#Marvel x powered reader

[themidnightcrimson]

she's my collar ࿏ wm

summary: in which you make wanda wait to get what she so desperately needs.

words: 4.5k

warnings: top!wanda, power bottom!reader, dubcon, enhanced strap, cumstrap, orgasm denial, teasing, grinding, use of leash and collar, slight breeding kink, please wanda let me make you beg to fuck me pleaseee i cant oauidsuhfwoierhoquihr

this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni. read with discretion.

masterlist.

You knew that her mind wasn’t there all night. Distracted she was, eyes empty yet darkly full like the face of the moon, bouncing around the room with a blankness, but when they caught you… When they caught you, her pupils swarmed like a wolf’s, olive green irises hazy under dim light.

Of course, you recognized that look on her face—that look of pure desperation, of pure carnivorous need for you, nervous and impatient and dialed and lustrous. Wanda was not good at hiding it, not in the least bit. You could see right through her, which was something she was not used to, for in her view it was always the other way around. You could not boast her telekinetic powers, yet you flipped through the pages of her brain like a mastermind, fingers dog-earing the pages you knew tortured her most.

Wanda licked her lips discreetly, casting a shine on their soft pink surface. This was an act easily overlooked by everyone else at the table, but you knew exactly what it meant. It meant that she was getting needier and needier for you, getting so riled up to the point of near drooling. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, took a rushed sip of her drink and nearly spilled it. She’d been like this all night, ever since you leaned up on those little tiptoes of yours and whispered something so disgustingly unrepeatable in her ear in that innocent little voice you knew she loved.

It also didn’t help that now your foot was reaching under the table and massaging her enhanced cock over her pants. Wanda’s face twitched each time you stroked your foot up the inside of her thigh and right to the bulge in her crotch, the hard flat of your shoe digging as delicately as it could onto her.

You were sitting at a table surrounded by Wanda’s friends, all caught up in their own conversation, all completely unaware of the torture you were mercilessly laying on Wanda under the table.

Red hair curtaining her face and darkening her eyes, Wanda leaned her elbow on the table and rubbed her fist over her mouth, letting her teeth graze her knuckles. The great thing, and the twisted thing about it, was that Wanda could stop you if she wanted to. She was taller than you, stronger than you, undoubtedly more powerful than you. Wanda’s magic allowed her the ability to do whatever she wanted to you, or to anyone, for that matter. Most people feared her and avoided ticking her off like their lives depended on it because if she was in a bad mood, it certainly could.

Wanda could control your mind and make you stop. She could simply reach down and push your foot off her. You weren’t forcing anything on her.

She liked it.

You realized early on in your relationship that although Wanda puts up a front of nonchalant dominance and power, there was a part deep inside her that fed off the opposite. With you, and only you, Wanda let herself have no power. She let herself be vulnerable, be manipulated, be used. She let you have all the control. Only you.

And with that power she gave you, came great responsibility. And you used it to the best of your ability to absolutely positively torture the fuck out of this woman at every chance you got.

A grin shocked your face when Wanda’s face started to turn noticeably red. She squirmed in her chair as everyone else continued with their conversations and their eating and drinking, while Wanda’s cock bulged painfully at the fabric of her pants. She cursed herself for wearing sweatpants even though all her friends demanded that they dress cozy for their little casual dinner.

Wanda’s green eyes slowly rose to you, and there was a mix of desperation in them and also a tint of red. A warning.

You laughed out loud.

The red in her eyes faded as she looked around to make sure no one heard you laugh, a look of defeat coming over her face before that desperation came back again. Please stop, she communicated to you in your mind, her tender voice ricocheting off the walls of your brain. You winced a little—it still stung every time she used her powers on you after not using them for a while. She rarely did.

Why? you responded in your head, focusing all your energy on making your inner voice loud enough for her to hear. You could always feel it when she was inside your head. She didn’t like the power it gave her, so she rarely used it, but there was always a slight buzzing in your head when Wanda was in it. I love seeing you get so needy for me. What, you don’t like it?

You dug your shoe harder into her, and she almost squeaked.

I can’t… It almost hurts… Please- Everyone’s here- In public- It feels too good- I need you…

Wanda was losing her train of thought, her ideas coming out in punctuated, nearly incoherent sentences in your head. You smirked—she was going fuzzy for you. That was exactly where you wanted her.

Finally, you slowly released your foot from her crotch, letting your shoe drag along the inside of her leg until you finally dropped it. Wanda sighed in relief and took another shaky sip of her drink to cover it. Turning slightly away from everyone, she fiddled with the fabric of her pants, trying to cover the hard-on you’d mercilessly given her.

When dinner ended and your friends finally all got in their cars and left the restaurant parking lot that was now empty beside Wanda’s car, Wanda was on you.

Hands grabbing your hips, Wanda pushed you against the side of her car, instantly pressing her body onto you. You felt her cock against your hip, still hard, getting harder. She dug her hips against you as her lips devoured yours, slowly letting herself start to grind on you.

“Mmm-Wanda,” you murmured into her mouth before she shoved her tongue into yours, grinding herself so much onto you that she was basically humping you against her car in this empty parking lot. “Wanda, stop.”

“Mmmh-mmh,” she hummed into your mouth, panting breathlessly, her hands going to your jeans and trying to tug them down.

“Wanda, no,” you said with a laugh, using firm grip to shove her hands away from you. You knew that if you weren’t firm with her, she would fuck you right here in this public lot against her car. The thought was hot, but the federal offense wasn’t.

“Please,” she begged, pulling your hand down to her crotch and making you feel her. “I need you. It hurts. Pleaseeeee.” She went in for a kiss again, but you gently pushed her face away from yours.

“You have to wait until we get home, baby,” you told her, watching her eyes immediately widen in disbelief. To be fair, it was a half hour drive home.

“What?! No, please, just suck me off in the car,” she exclaimed, pushing herself harder onto you. As insistent as she was, that was exactly what you wanted her to be when you were building her up all through dinner.

“Nuh-uh, get in the car. You have to wait until we get home,” you said firmly, giving her some gentle taps on her cheek and ignoring the incredibly pouty look on her face as you made your way to the passenger side of the car.

Huffing, Wanda obeyed and got in the driver’s seat. You knew it was evil, physically working her up for hours just to make her wait even longer for release, but as much as she huffed and groaned, it only made her all the more desperate for you.

࿏

Your hand on Wanda’s shoulder pushed her onto the couch of the little apartment you shared. It was a cozy place which Wanda let you have full control over decorating, though you embedded a touch of her in everything. The wallpaper, appearing to be a pretty white and red floral pattern, was actually encrypted with runes. The couch, a nostalgic green and yellow plaid, was actually the same pattern as the shirt Wanda was wearing when you first met. All the kitchen spatulas and ladles were red silicone after her signature color, and watercolor paintings of different kinds of witches hung on the walls. It was your sacred space together.

Wanda landed on the couch with a huff, and you immediately straddled her, throwing one leg over her lap and nestling down as you held your hand behind your back. Wanda perked when she heard a familiar metal clink coming from behind you when you sat down on her. Smirking, you brought your hand in front of you, revealing the pair of handcuffs.

“Baby, no,” she instantly growled, her hands grabbing your wrists. She hated when you cuffed her so that she couldn’t touch you, not for the lack of control, but because not touching you was incredibly hard for her.

“Baby, yes,” you responded with a smirk, waiting for her to let go of your wrists so you could do what you needed to do. When she didn’t, you merely lifted your brow, eyes hardening.

Wanda looked at you with pleading in her eyes which also flickered to the silver shine of the handcuffs, her wrists buzzing as they remembered the cold, hard embrace of them. Finally, she gave in, slowly letting go of your wrists.

“That’s it,” you whispered with a sharp grin. “You listen so well.”

Wanda’s soft cheeks blushed a gentle maroon as she instinctively put her wrists behind her back and leaned forward, letting her chin rest on your shoulder. You could feel how warm her body was, so close to you.

Leaning forward, you cuffed her wrists behind her back and guided her to sit back against the couch properly. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you asked in an innocent tone as you moved to get up, letting your knee brush the thing in her pants that indeed was very hard.

The maroon in her cheeks deepened. Wanda watched you, her red hair slightly covering her lips which were already agape and letting out measured, heavy breaths. You stood before her, letting your knees touch her bent ones, and pulled your shirt over your head. Wanda’s eyes followed you the way a lion follows its prey, tracking every little movement, totally locked in for the kill, nostrils flaring with the scent of blood. There was no mistaking that where dominance lacked in Wanda, lust replaced it. If you didn’t make her follow your rules, you were sure she would be fucking you every minute of the day with her enhanced strap.

While you had spent working Wanda up all night, you had also worked up yourself. You could feel the wetness in your underwear as you stripped down to wearing only those lacy black panties, your clothes and bra left discarded on the carpet at Wanda’s feet. She was pitching a tent now, squirming at the mere sight of you. You’d trained her so well.

“I can’t recall you ever being this whiny,” you chuckled as you slowly and gracefully got back on Wanda’s lap, your core buzzing with the new exposure. As you straddled her, you let your buzzing core line with her crotch, settling down on her bulge and sighing deeply with satisfaction. Wanda made an incoherent noise and twitched, squirming more as you sat right on her strap. With the pressure, you could feel even more how wet you were at the center, your closeness with Wanda now increased with the absence of another layer.

Wanda, distracted from your slight as she struggled to remain calm with the incredible warmth of you directly on her, let her eyes graze over your bare chest. Her arms twitched behind her, cuffs clinking, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her obvious attempt to touch you before remembering she was tied. She let out a groan that escalated into another whine.

“See? Whiny thing,” you remarked. Letting your fingers tangle in Wanda’s hair, admiring just how pretty she was, you suddenly rolled your hips over her with the perfect amount of pressure. Wanda gasped, the cuffs clinking harder as her body jerked in an instinct to grab your hips. Chuckling, you rolled your hips again, feeling through the thin fabric of your panties and the soft fabric of Wanda’s sweatpants as your clit rubbed onto the hardness of her cock. Wetness gushed more out of you.

“Fuck, baby,” Wanda whined as you began to grind down on her cock, the mere image of your nearly naked body straddling her lap, your back arching just right, your tits so near to her face, would have been enough for her to get the release she desperately needed if you were not denying her of it.

And God how pretty she looked. Her green eyes so full of shadow now, brimming with lust, staring up at you from under her brows, something between a lip bite and a smirk on her face. Her red hair fell more in front of her face now, shadowing it further, brows creasing with frustration. That was what you desired most about Wanda—how deeply and with fiery passion she desired you right back.

A moan escaped your lips as you watched her, how worked up she was, the way she was trying not to buck her hips up to meet your grinding, her cock warm and twitchy under the tense fabric of her pants as you rolled your clit over it, feeling your folds slip together with how wet you were now. Torturing her, teasing her.

“I’m gonna—”

“No,” you instantly denied her, feeling her cock bulge more underneath your slit. “You’re not allowed.”

“But—” Wanda tried to argue breathily, her voice raspy and heavy, brows still creased with frustration.

“Hold it,” you demanded, letting your fingers tug harshly at her hair. “Be a good girl for me and hold it. You can wait, can’t you? Is this all it takes to make you spill?”

The whine that escaped from that woman’s lips was enough to push you three steps closer to the edge.

“I-I’ve been waiting all night,” she groaned, closing her eyes now, squeezing them shut hard. She looked so cute, wincing, gritting her teeth together, the cuffs clinking wildly as she squirmed and tried to not buck her hips into you.

“You can wait longer,” you harshly spat, breath heavy as you grinded yourself more wildly, bouncing on her bulge, tugging hard at her soft hair. “Fuck… fuck…” Your stomach tightened, hole clenching around nothing as you finally reached your orgasm.

Wanda threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut, teeth clenching so hard that sharp pains erupted in her jaws, as she used every ounce of strength in her to not cum. She was desperate for release, but she was more desperate to obey you and please you.

Nosediving into Wanda’s neck, you inhaled her glorious scent as you came down from your high, moaning softly in her ear that burned at the sound, slowing your hips down. She whined pathetically in your ear, practically trembling under you.

Pulling away, you got up slightly and saw that there was now a large dark wet spot right on Wanda’s crotch. First thinking she had cum without telling you but then remembering that she would never do that without telling you, you realized it was your wetness that had seeped through your underwear, mixed with a little bit of her precum helplessly leaking in her pants. Clear strings kept you connected to the wet spot as you lifted, standing up from her lap.

Wanda already looked like she was in incredible pain. Her lips were ajar, head leaning against the couch cushion, her crotch still bulged now with a pathetic wet spot on it.

“You’re pathetic,” you told her with a chuckle as you kicked your pants down your legs and to the floor. Wanda peaked at this, sitting up a little better.

“I need to be inside you,” she told you directly. Just because Wanda submitted to you did not make her unable to be lustfully honest with you. “It hurts, baby, I need to be inside.”

Heat washed over you at her declaration of need for you, hitting you right in your clit that was still throbbing. As much as you loved torturing her endlessly, you also always anticipated finally giving her what she wanted.

But you weren’t quite done yet.

Going closer to her, you uncuffed the handcuffs and instead pulled something else out of the drawer of the end table.

Wanda’s leash and collar.

An excellent scarlet leather, her leash and collar were tools you rarely used, but when you did, it made Wanda weak. She was already practically drooling as you clipped the collar around her pretty neck and clipped the leash to the ring at the front, letting the cold metal chain of the leash zip through your hands as you tugged on it, forcing Wanda’s head closer to you.

But now Wanda’s hands were free, and they were all over you. Grabbing at your tits, your hardened nipples, scratching your waist, groping your hips. Her eyes stared up at you blankly as you held the leash in your hand.

Power. Control. Authority. These were things that no one had ever been able to boast having over Wanda. She was always the one with the power.

Except with you. You now controlled her, leather and chain in palm, collar digging at the tenderness of her neck.

Smirking, you leaned down and pressed a soft, gentle kiss on Wanda’s lips before you slowly laid down on the other end of the couch, legs spread open, pussy red and glistening.

“C’mere,” was all you had to say, and Wanda was already lowering herself between your legs, frantically pushing down her sweatpants to reveal her scarlet enhanced strap that bounced and poked at your inner thigh.

“Wait,” you ordered right as she started to line herself up with you. She stopped, eyes snapping up at you impatiently but also expectantly, ready to take your orders but overwhelmed with physical need. “Beg,” you whispered, tugging on the leash in your hand, causing Wanda’s head to jerk forward. “I want you to beg for my pussy.”

Wanda melted, lowering herself down so she was closer to you. “Please,” she started, her hand coming to rest on your neck gently. “Please let me have your pussy.” Nearly panting, she left a hot kiss at the corner of your jaw. “Please let me fuck you. I need your pussy. I need to be inside you. Please let me.” There was pain in her voice, her cock poking again at your inner thigh, nearly hot to the touch from the intensity of the magic flowing within her. “Please, please, please.” She left rushed, heavy kisses all up and down your jaw, her hands slipping under you to grab at your ass, her hips trembling between your open legs. Your hole ached for her.

“Fine,” you whispered, turning your face to nip at the tip of her ear, causing her to yelp. “Fuck me, pathetic thing.”

With a groan of excitement, Wanda grabbed her cock and lined it with your entrance, recklessly snapping her hips forward to shove herself inside you. Though she was large enough to still stretch you, she slipped in with ease from how wet your cunt already was. Her cock filled you, swarming all the way inside until she landed at your cervix, causing you to yell out and throw your head back in a mix of pleasure and pain.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, her face feeling hot with embarrassment as she laid it on your cool chest. “Fuck, sorry,” she apologized as she started to wildly fuck you, every inch of her cock burying deep inside you. Since she was so large, she usually started off slow with you, but she was giving you every bit of her, her cock going as deep as it could physically go inside you. You could feel her in your lower belly, rearranging your guts as she pumped inside you with chaotic rhythm.

There was hardly any trace of rhythm as Wanda plowed herself inside you, gently biting at the skin of your chest and digging her nails into your hips to keep you still. You were sure that if you tried to leave now, Wanda might murder you whether or not on accident. Though she submitted to you, she took absolute hold of you once you gave yourself to her.

A shriek of pain escaped your lips, your hands scratching hard at Wanda’s warm back under her shirt. Her sweatpants were shrugged at her knees, her ass bare in the air as it plowed between your legs. The couch squeaked shamefully under the weight of your bodies. Her leash bounced against her chest, the other end held loosely in your palm still.

“Sorry,” Wanda mumbled over and over each time you made a noise of pain, but she made no effort to slow down until her hips started to catch. Wanda’s moans turned higher in pitch as she buried her face into your neck and suddenly stopped, pulling her cock out of you and hovering her hips completely still between your legs.

Catching your breath, you tried to turn your head to look at Wanda, but her face was buried in your neck. She was even holding her breath.

“Wanda, what’s wrong?” you asked with concern, tugging softly at her leash which made her let out a little hum.

“I… I have to stop for a second,” she breathed hard into your neck finally.

“Why?”

“Because I—I keep—I keep almost cumming.”

Your lips twirled into a curl as the woman trembled on top of you.

“Keep going,” you firmly demanded.

Wanda made no movement, only shifted her face in your neck. “I just need a—”

“No.” With a harsh tug on her leash, Wanda lifted her head and looked at you, eyes crazed. “I said keep going.”

Wanda made a face in argument, but you locked your legs around her hips and forced her down between your legs again, reaching down and grabbing her cock with your hand.

“Ah!” Wanda started as you basically forced her back inside you, sighing at the stretch as she filled you again.

Wanda hung her head and made no movement, breathing hard in an obvious effort to control herself. With how sensitive her enhanced strap was, even feeling the pressure of your tight cunt around her was too much to bear.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, yanking harder again at her leash and letting it slap against her. The skin of her neck around the collar was starting to blush red.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda slowly rolled her hips and pumped herself in and out of you, simultaneously letting out a whine. “Please, can I please c—”

“No,” you responded, grabbing her hips and forcing her to go faster. “You can’t cum until I say you can, and you can’t stop, either.”

Biting her lip so hard it turned white and squeezing her eyes shut, Wanda fucked you painfully. While it hurt her to hold back her orgasm that had been a long time coming all night, she was completely lost in total pleasure. You felt so wet and warm around her, so tight and welcoming, your walls clenching around her shaft. She was obsessed with you and being inside you. It was her favorite place to be, yet it was where she had the least control.

“Faster,” you demanded, and Wanda attempted to pick up her speed, but every single movement was an offensive attack on her control. She was almost pale, trembling above you and not daring to open her eyes in fear that the sight of you would make her spill.

Growing impatient, you grunt and push her away, her cock leaving you with a wet pop. Confused, Wanda let you grab her and push her to the ground, forcing her to sit against the bottom part of the couch as you found yourself straddling her again. Lining your entrance with her tip, you gave Wanda no time to prepare as you slammed yourself down on her strap, tugging her leash at the same time.

“Fuck!” Wanda yelled out as you fucked yourself onto her on the floor, bouncing up and down on her cock that now hammered harshly inside you. Wanda’s nails dug hard into your sides, drawing blood, but you continued forcing every inch of her cock inside you with sickeningly wet sloshing noises.

“Baby, baby, baby, baby,” Wanda breathed, panting, eyes closed. She started to push at your hips, kicking her legs and trying to get you off of her. “Baby, I can’t stop it, I can’t stop.” She pushed hard at you to get you off her, and you knew it was because she had to ask to cum inside you, and if you decided to deny her, there was no way she’d be able to stop herself. And oh, how Wanda wanted so badly to be good for you.

You’d only let Wanda do it inside once before, knowing the value of the reward that you so often hung over her head during sex. You would promise to let her cum inside then shove her off you at the last moment, forcing her to cum all over your stomach or tits instead.

Licking your teeth with your tongue, you cradled the back of Wanda’s head, leash held taut in your hand, and came close to her face to whisper, “Cum inside me.”

Wanda’s eyes snapped open, and as if your words were a remote control to the machine of her body, she released.

Expletives came rushing out of Wanda’s mouth one after the other, most of them mostly incoherent from the incessant moan that escaped her throat. Wanda’s cock finally bulged one last time before unloading inside you, her hot cum shooting deep in your tummy. You forced yourself down as far as possible on her cock so that her cum would go deep inside you, biting down on her trembling shoulder as she filled you up with a seemingly endless amount of cum.

It was several moments before Wanda was able to finally compose herself, head thrown back against the seat of the couch, her body basically limp. The skin around her collar was deep red now from how much you had tugged on the leash.

As much as you loved seeing Wanda being torturously teased, seeing her wonderfully relieved was almost equal in beauty. She was so relaxed now, a stupid smile on her slightly sweaty face, her cock gleefully limp inside you, her cum nestled in your tummy.

Humming, you kissed her neck and whispered, “You like cumming in my unprotected cunt, don’t you?”

If possible, Wanda’s skin blushed harder as she slowly nodded, her hands gently rubbing up and down your waist.

You grazed your smirking lips against her ear. “Wanna do it again?”

With that, her strap stiffened inside you.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Nobody Important

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 

Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.

When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 

Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them. 

Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”

Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was. 

“Who are you?”

“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”

“That depends. Who are you?”

“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”

Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 

However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”

You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”

“Okay, fine. What are you?”

You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Alright, listen bub-”

“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”

Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 

“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”

After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 

“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”

He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 

Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 

But he still had questions. 

Unanswered questions. 

Like who the hell were you? 

A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 

In the kitchens. 

The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 

Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 

And somehow

It was relaxing to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 

“Err, no. I was just-”

“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t really drink..tea.” 

Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 

You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 

“Here, try this.”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 

And he did. 

“Is this where you work?”

You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 

“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”

You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”

Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”

You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”

Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 

“Hey, what’s in this tea?”

“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”

Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 

“Hey, what did you put in this?”

Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 

Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 

Then he jerked up. 

With a grunt, he looked around him. 

He was in his room. 

The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 

Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 

The Professor’s office. 

Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 

“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

“What the hell happened?” 

“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”

Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 

“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”

Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 

“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”

Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”

Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”

“Are you always this blunt?”

You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”

“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”

Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”

“She started it!”

You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”

With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 

“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”

“Have to admit, though. I did help.”

Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 

Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 

Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 

But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 

Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 

It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.

Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 

“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 

“Are you going to drug me again?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”

“Really, like what?”

Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”

“They actually sell this stuff?”

You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”

Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 

Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”

Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 

“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”

“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”

You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”

“Will you?”

“Will I do what?”

“Go to bed, too?”

You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”

“What are you even doing?”

“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”

Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 

“Okay, fine.”

And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 

The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 

Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 

You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 

He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 

More so, when he saw your shoulder. 

From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 

Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 

“New recipe?”

You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”

“Better luck next time.”

And then you both just…talked. 

You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 

“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”

You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 

“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”

It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.

“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”

Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 

Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 

Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 

The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 

And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 

“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”

Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 

Fast asleep. 

He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you. 

Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 

Hell, even he needed sleep. 

But you were just constantly forever going. 

Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 

You were fast asleep. 

Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 

Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 

You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 

Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 

He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 

A heavy blanket. 

He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 

Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 

He turned around but you were still. 

Then you whimpered again. 

“No,” you whispered. 

Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 

He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 

Except you reached out for his hand. 

Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 

But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 

You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 

Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 

A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 

Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 

“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 

“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”

Your head shifted. You were searching. 

“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”

“L…Logan?” 

The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.

He was shocked. Maybe…

“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”

The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 

And glowed. 

They were still your eyes just…brighter. 

“Logan?!”

He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”

The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 

Then everything stopped. 

Everything went silent. 

Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 

Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 

You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 

“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”

He took you by your shoulders then your face. 

“It’s Logan.”

You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 

“Logan,” you breathed. 

“Yeah…”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 

“What happened?”

“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”

You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 

Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 

“What happened?”

You shook your head. “Nothing-”

“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”

You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 

Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 

“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”

“So what happened?”

“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”

“And that’s what the nightmares…”

You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”

You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 

Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 

“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”

Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 

“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”

“Was he the one that-”

You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”

“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”

You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”

The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 

“I just can’t.”

Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”

“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”

You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 

“Don’t let them win.”

You nodded, your head still in his hands. 

“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”

It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 

“You don’t-”

“I can stay.”

You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 

Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 

“Thank you for staying.”

It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 

Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”

You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 

As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 

The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 

Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 

From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 

And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 

Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 

Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 

And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 

Because Logan already knew. 

And so did you. 

And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 

[rivalswrites]

HELLO Could you do headcanons with Magik, Lin Lie and anyone you want with a reader who has ice powers? I LOVE YOUR BLOCK PLEASE KEEP DOING THIS🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

How they are with your ice powers!

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

My first request (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Masterlist

Having mystical powers isn't anything new to Illyana, but she won't treat anyone any differently because they do or don't have magical abilities. Her whole life she's been around mutants, so it's something she's used too.

With that said, she doesn't at all mind your powers- and in fact, even enjoys them sometimes. They're very useful to her, in battle and in everyday life. Useful as in she appreciated them and wants to keep you close for that extra support, not so she can straight up use you as a puppet.

Being basically the queen of hell, and just how she is in general, Illyana tends to run a bit on the hotter side, even when it's freezing out. Like a portable heater. And in all honesty? She likes it when you use your ice powers on or around her, the coldness is a nice comparison to how she usually is.

And, in battle she enjoys watching you freeze people, it makes her smile at the funnier moments that happen. She takes advantage of people being frozen, easier targets and all that, but also uses the ice as a distraction for her to come up behind people.

Overall: Illyana appreciates your company, and tends to try and keep you around. Not just for the ice powers, obviously, but they're a bonus.

Ice is nothing new to him, having been on a team with Luna (who famously has ice powers too), but that doesn't mean he pushes your powers off to the side just because he's seen it before.

He actually enjoys seeing what you do with them, how differently you use them compared to how he's seen them be used. Training goes well with him, oftentimes he likes to watch as you practice whatever it is you do with your powers. He likes watching people train, to see if he can incorporate it into his own skills (though there's not much he can do since he doesn't have ice powers).

Sometimes he asks for you to make Ice targets for him to train on.

In battle he tries to stick by you, but he's a very mobile person so it's not always easy. He does check up on you though. Don't take it as something offensive, he knows you and take care of yourself- those enemies didn't freeze themselves- he's just worried about you, as he does with all his friends.

After a long day of whatever it is you two did- be it training, fighting, or even just doing chores- he enjoys sharing a chilled drink with you; courtesy of you. If you fought or trained, he finds it funny that you make his own icepack for him to put on his sore muscles or any bruises he got.

Overall: Lin has no issue with it, and really enjoys being in your company. He knows when he's training for has gotten hurt, he can come to you for help, and he really likes that.

[orellazalonia]

Borrowed Gifts, Steadfast Love

Summary: You accidentally trigger a moment of amnesia in Bucky after giving him precognition during training. In the aftermath, Bucky, gentle and vulnerable in his confusion, asks if you’re someone important to him. When his memory returns, the two of you gradually confess what you’ve both been holding back. (Bucky Barnes x Avengers!reader)

Disclaimer: Reader has the ability to temporarily bestow powers to other people.

Word Count: 3.5k+

A/N: It has been a while since I’ve had something for this series. Though, I’ve mostly covered my favorites so far, so I’ll need to brainstorm ideas for other abilities lol. Happy reading!

Main Masterlist | Whispers of the Gifted Masterlist

You had a rare and unnerving gift. One that terrified some of the Avengers more than it reassured them. With a touch, you could grant powers to others. Temporarily. Specific abilities, curated like items on a menu but always with a cost. The more potent the power, the more unpredictable the side effects. Some people got migraines. Others felt emotionally drained. And a few… well, a few forgot their names for an hour or two.

That last one had landed Tony flat on his back once, insisting he was a ballet dancer named Cheryl.

You hadn’t been born with powers yourself. You were experimented on briefly, in your early teens by a defunct program obsessed with replicating the abilities of others. Their tests failed to give you any power of your own. Instead, your body became a kind of channel, like a living transmitter. You couldn’t fly, lift tanks, or shoot lasers but you could let someone else do it. For a while. Ten minutes, fifteen if you really focused. Maybe twenty, but that always came with a nosebleed or worse.

SHIELD picked you up after the facility fell, though you never quite belonged in the field the same way the others did. You weren’t a soldier. You were a tool they deployed when someone needed an extra edge.

Bucky Barnes was one of the few who treated you like more than that.

You met him a year after he rejoined the Avengers, still finding his footing in a world that changed too fast. At first, he was quiet and standoffish, not unlike you. People like Steve and Sam tried to loop you in with group dinners, training sessions, or "team bonding" game nights that only made you feel more like a guest in someone else’s home. But Bucky? He never pressured you. He saw your silences and matched them. Sat next to you on the sidelines without needing to fill the air. Slowly, like frost melting under careful sun, you two grew close.

You trained together sometimes. Your power fascinated him in a way you didn’t expect. He’d ask questions no one else thought to: Did it hurt you? Did the powers you gave others come from somewhere, or from you? Could you give him one and take it back before it fully formed?

He was the first one to ask if you liked using your powers.

Most people just expected you were fine with it, already having some idea of what you were supposed to like, do, or be. But you never felt that pressure nor those expectations with him.

Therefore, you spent more time together after that. Coffee in the kitchen before morning briefings. Patrolling side by side, because he said he liked your “measured pace.” Evenings where you’d sit outside on the Tower balcony and he’d talk about Brooklyn before the war, or ask you what it felt like to see someone else use what wasn’t truly theirs. Sometimes you didn’t answer. Sometimes you did. Regardless, he never pushed.

Even with these shared moments, you didn’t dare name whatever was forming between you. Not yet. There was comfort in the undefined, in the quiet understanding between two people still trying to trust themselves again. You weren’t healed, but neither was he. However, you were there and that mattered.

The only time he ever raised an eyebrow was the day he caught you sketching in the rec room. It was an old habit you formed from before the facility, something you rarely indulged in. You tried to hide the notepad, but he saw it before you could. You were fully prepared to defend yourself.

Until he saw the page. A portrait of him. Focused. Sharp lines. Gentle shading.

He didn’t tease you.

He just said, “You made me look like someone worth drawing.”

You had to look away.

“I draw things I don’t want to forget,” You whispered.

That moment hung between you like an unspoken truth. One neither of you were ready to face. Not yet. Not until later. Not until the day you gave Bucky the ability to see a few seconds into the future and he forgot the past. Including you.

It started with a sparring match.

You weren’t planning to use your powers. You rarely did in training, unless asked. But Bucky was frustrated and off his rhythm. He was distracted and getting increasingly impatient with himself. You’d watched from the edge of the mat as he shook out his shoulders, jaw tight, and muttering curses under his breath.

“Want to cheat?” You asked, casually tossing him a water bottle. “I’m offering a limited-time preview of danger-dodging.”

He arched a brow. “What, like Spider-sense?”

“Closer to precognition. A few seconds ahead.” You shrugged, trying to downplay it. “Enough to give you an edge.”

He hesitated. You could see the thought wheels grinding behind his eyes, then he stepped forward and extended his hand. “Hit me with it.”

You reached up and pressed two fingers gently to the side of his neck, just under his jawline. A safer place than the wrist, less prone to backlash. A flicker of gold shimmered under your skin, then transferred into his.

“There. Ten minutes. You’ll feel it kick in.”

He blinked, eyes fluttering slightly, then his pupils dilated. His stance changed instantly into something more grounded. Lighter and alert. You backed up and watched as Sam moved in to spar with him, a little too eager to knock Bucky off his game.

But Bucky didn’t miss a beat.

He dodged Sam’s attacks before they landed, twisting just out of reach, predicting moves before they were even made. You saw Sam frown. Then grin. “Okay, okay, cheating is kind of cool.”

“Don’t get used to it,” You warned, arms crossed, already feeling the beginnings of a tension headache.

Everything was going fine until the timer ran out.

You didn’t notice right away. Bucky had stepped back, grabbing a towel and breathing a little hard. But then you saw him frown, glance around the gym like something was wrong. Like the lights were too bright. Or the air too thin.

“Bucky?” You asked cautiously.

He turned to you and blinked, staring at you like you were a stranger. Not the kind he feared, not someone threatening, just someone whose shape should’ve meant something. His brow furrowed like your presence itched at the back of his brain, like a song he almost remembered.

“Sorry,” He said again, voice quiet. “You look… familiar.”

You gave a tight smile, hiding the panic behind your eyes. “It’s okay. You’ve had a bit of a power hangover.”

“Power?” He looked down at his hands, then flexed his vibranium fingers. “Did I… hurt someone?”

“No. You were training. You asked me to give you a temporary ability.” You moved in front of him, trying to keep your voice steady. “Precognition. It lets you sense movements a few seconds ahead. You handled it like a pro.”

“Guess I didn’t handle it that well,” He said with a weak, lopsided smirk. Then his smile faded. “I really don’t remember.”

He sounded more concerned now. Not panicked yet, just… vulnerable. That was rare for him, especially in front of others. But now, it was like something raw had surfaced under his skin. The carefully constructed guard he wore every day had holes punched through it, and he didn’t know why.

You glanced to the training room door, where Sam was now standing uncertainly with a towel slung around his neck, unsure whether to intervene. You gave him a small shake of your head. This wasn’t something that needed a team.

“Come sit,” You murmured, gently taking Bucky’s arm and guiding him to a bench in the corner. He followed without resistance, like you were the only thing anchoring him.

Once seated, he studied your face for a long moment. His eyes were softer than usual, curious and searching. Like he wanted to remember you but didn’t know how.

“So we… know each other?” He asked carefully.

You nodded. “We work together. Trained together. Talked… a lot.”

He tilted his head. “Are we… close?”

Your throat tightened. “Yes.”

There was a long beat, and then, completely sincere, he asked, “Are we dating?”

You blinked, startled. “What?”

“I’m just asking,” He said, sheepish but oddly confident in a way the real Bucky never was. “You seem like someone I’d… want to be close to.”

Your heart jumped into your throat. He doesn’t remember you, You reminded yourself. He’s just reaching for familiarity. Don’t fall for the illusion.

Still, you answered, “No. We’re not.”

Bucky looked disappointed, genuinely. “Are you sure?”

You gave him a half-hearted glare. “Even amnesiac, you’re a flirt.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t feel like me. It’s like I’m dreaming with my eyes open.” He looked down at his hands again. “I hate this.”

“I know. And it’ll wear off. Soon.”

He turned back to you, brow knitting. “You said you gave me a power? You… can do that?”

“I can lend them out. For a short time. Sometimes there are… side effects.” You hesitated. “You usually remember everything just fine.”

“Usually,” He echoed. “Lucky me.”

“I’m sorry, Bucky.”

His eyes lifted back to yours again. “You said my name.”

You smiled softly. “Yeah.”

He blinked slowly, taking that in. “And yours is…?”

You gave him your name and he repeated it quietly. The way he said it nearly undid you. It was gentle in the way as if he wanted to commit it to memory now, before it slipped through his fingers again.

“I don’t want to forget you,” He whispered, without thinking.

Your breath caught. You reached out then, almost instinctively, placed your hand over his.

“I won’t let you. I’m going to fix it,” You promised quietly. “Just… give me a minute.”

It took concentration, channeling the right counterbalance of power, guiding a mild recall ability through touch. When your hand met his again, you saw flickers of your face, training sessions, shared coffee. The sketch. His smile when he saw it. His voice, gentle and real: “You made me look like someone worth drawing.”

And then, the power flickered back before either of you were ready.

One moment, Bucky was holding your gaze like he was memorizing every detail of your eyes, your name, and the warmth of your hand covering his. Then the next, his fingers twitched beneath yours and his breath caught.

You saw it in his expression immediately.

Like a floodgate creaking open too fast, memory rushed back into his mind. You watched him blink once, twice, his face flickering through confusion, realization, then… guilt.

“It’s you,” He said softly.

You nodded slowly, afraid to speak first.

He sat up straighter, pulled his hand from under yours. Not harshly, but more so like he was grounding himself. His brows furrowed as his eyes darted around the training room, checking every shadow, and every sound. You could see his instincts coming back online.

“I remember,” He said.

Your shoulders slumped slightly. Relief mixed with… something sharper. A part of you had cherished that fragile, disarmed version of him. It felt wrong to miss it, but you did.

“I’m sorry,” You said. “I should’ve stopped the transfer sooner or done something-“

“No,” He interrupted quickly, looking at you again. “Don’t. Don’t blame yourself. I asked for it. You warned me. And besides, I’ve had worse side effects from coffee.”

You huffed a breath of dry amusement, though you didn’t quite smile.

Bucky’s gaze lingered on you. “What… did I say?”

Your eyes dropped to the mat. “Nothing terrible. Just…” You fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve. “You forgot me. Asked who I was and if we worked together.”

“And?”

“And then you asked if we were dating.”

He stiffened slightly. “Did I?”

“Mm-hm.” You tried to play it off lightly. “You also asked if you hurt anyone, so clearly your priorities were intact.”

He didn’t laugh. He was still watching you too carefully. “And what did you say?”

“That we weren’t.”

He tilted his head. “And was I disappointed?”

You hesitated, wondering why he would ask that. “You said… I seemed like someone you’d want to be close to.”

Bucky was silent for a moment. Then: “I wasn’t wrong.”

Your eyes lifted to his, startled. There was something cautious in his voice, yes, but it was also honest. Maybe that amnesiac version of him didn’t just say things out of confusion. Maybe it said things he usually didn’t let himself say.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” You murmured, voice quieter now, rawer. “But… I didn’t hate it. Sitting with you. Talking without all the walls.”

His jaw tensed, eyes flicking down for a beat. “I don’t always know how to be soft on purpose,” He admitted. “But I want to, with you.”

A long silence stretched between you. And then, slowly, he offered you his hand. Not out of confusion. Not because of borrowed power. Just his hand. Open, steady, and inviting.

You took it.

“I may not remember everything at times,” He said quietly. “But I won’t forget that part.”

You gave a small nod, sitting in silence with him for a moment. Reality slowly began to creep back in like a fog settling over warm ground. The gym lights felt too bright. The air too still. Sam had already quietly slipped out, leaving the two of you alone to untangle the strange, fragile thread left behind by the power’s fading echo.

So, you made the decision to stand slowly, brushing your palms on your pants as Bucky followed suit.

Neither of you quite knew what to say. The rawness of the moment still lingered between you like something unspoken, and neither of you dared break it yet.

“I should… probably check in with Bruce,” You muttered. “Make sure there aren’t any lingering neurological disruptions. It’s been a while since I gave someone that particular ability.”

Bucky nodded. “Right, yeah. I’ll shower. Try to not stare into space too long.”

You huffed softly. “Good plan.”

Then came that moment, the moment. The one where your eyes met just before you both turned away. You caught a flicker in his gaze, something he wanted to say but didn’t. Something you wanted to hear, but couldn’t ask for. So instead, you both retreated to your corners of the compound.

-

In your room, you sat cross-legged on your bed with a cold compress on your forehead, scrolling through your tablet with one hand and letting the other rest uselessly in your lap. You weren’t reading anything. Not really.

Your mind was stuck in the echo chamber of You seem like someone I’d want to be close to and Maybe you should’ve said not yet.

You told yourself not to read into it. It was just scrambled-brain honesty. He wasn’t thinking straight. People say things when they forget their walls.

Still… he remembered now. And he hadn’t pulled away.

You ran a hand through your hair and dropped your tablet on the bed, then stared out the window. The sky had shifted from orange to deep navy. The tower was quiet. Too quiet.

Meanwhile in Bucky’s quarters, he had showered and dried off. Now sitting on the edge of his bed in sweats and a black T-shirt, staring at the cup of water he hadn’t touched.

His mind replayed the way your hand had felt in his. The nervous quirk of your mouth. The devastation in your eyes when he didn’t remember your name. The tenderness when he did.

He knew what he wanted to say. He had known it for a while. But now it felt like the air was thinner around you. Charged. He wasn’t sure if that was because of the power or because it exposed something deeper between you. Something neither of you had dared voice before.

He stood, opened his door, and walked down the quiet hall. Looking to end up in the one place he hoped you’d be.

-

Later that night, you were sitting alone on one of your favorite balconies, legs pulled up to your chest, and the air cool against your skin.

A quiet shuffle of boots sounded behind you.

You didn’t have to turn to know who it was. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Bucky settled down beside you, offering a second cup of tea. You took it without question.

“I keep thinking,” He said, “About how easily I forgot you. Like one wrong spark and poof.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He nodded slowly. “Still… I don’t like that. I’ve worked so hard to build this life. The idea that someone could take a piece of it and I wouldn’t even know what was missing?”

Your fingers curled around your cup.

“I’ve spent years being forgettable,” You said. “By choice or by design. It’s safer that way, less… risky.”

Bucky turned his head to look at you. “You’re not forgettable to me.”

You finally met his eyes.

“I don’t care what kind of power tries to take that away. You’re not something I’d lose easily.”

And just like that, you didn’t feel like a tool anymore. You felt like someone worth remembering.

The night was hushed between the two of you, save for the faint hum of the city far below and the way Bucky’s thumb lightly tapped against his tea cup. Nervous energy. Not from fear, just hesitation. Like he was weighing each word before he let it out.

“I don’t want to forget you again,” He added quietly.

You watched him, and something in your expression whether it be gentle, surprised, or open, made him go still.

“Not from power backlash, not from time, not from fear. And if I’m being honest…” He trailed off, then exhaled. “I don’t want to waste time pretending you’re just a teammate. Or just someone who gives me an advantage in combat. You’re not that to me.”

You set your cup down slowly, the heat of it fading from your hands, replaced by the thrum of something warmer beneath your skin. “Then what am I?”

He looked at you fully and deliberately.

“You’re the person I look for in every room,” He said, voice low and sure. “The one I feel calm with. The one I trust when everything else gets loud in my head. You matter to me more than I’ve let myself admit.”

The words hit softly, like the first snow, but carried weight. Real and steady. You blinked, unsure if your heart had always beat this fast or if he’d just jump-started it.

“I thought maybe…” Your voice came out smaller than you expected. “If I let myself believe you might feel the same way, I’d mess everything up. That you’d need someone steadier. Someone who wouldn’t make you forget your own name when they touch you.”

His lips twitched into a quiet smile at that, but he didn’t joke. He didn’t downplay it. Instead, he leaned in slightly. His shoulders brushing yours.

“I won’t do anything unless you want me to. You’ve always given everyone else power. Maybe it’s time someone gave you the choice.”

There was no pressure in his tone, no coaxing. Just offering.

And something in you, long hidden and cautious, stirred.

You turned toward him fully, the dim light casting soft shadows across his features. You could see the tired but hopeful gleam in his eyes. You lifted one hand slowly, tracing your fingers along the line of his jaw, anchoring yourself in this moment.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time,” You admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“Then I’m all yours,” He replied, breath catching slightly as he leaned in.

You closed the gap.

The kiss was gentle at first. Something that could be described as cautious, exploratory, or like a question answered in a language both of you had forgotten how to speak. But then his hand came to rest at the side of your neck, warm and steady, and yours slid over his chest, feeling the weight of everything he wasn’t saying but always meant.

It wasn’t fireworks. It was better. It was safe, solid, and real.

When you both pulled back, neither of you spoke right away. But then Bucky’s voice broke the silence, low and steady:

“I’ve wanted that for a long time.”

Your lips quirked into the faintest smile. “Me too.”

His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek, almost reverent. “I don’t know what happens next,” He admitted, eyes meeting yours, vulnerable and unguarded. “But I know I want it with you.”

You nodded, fingers still curled into the fabric of his shirt like you weren’t ready to let go. “Then stay. That’s all I need right now.”

A breeze stirred your hair, and he leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to your temple this time. Gentler, more certain.

“I’m not going anywhere,” He whispered.

And under the quiet sky, for the first time in a long while, you believed it.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Idiocy

Why is it when I have a fever I have motivation to write? Anyways, more Hunter x Bucky content, this time with Hunter in action.

Summary: You barely get out of a trap alive and give Bucky anxiety.

You really should have smelled the trap. Gifted with an enhanced sense of smell, enhanced eyesight, and yet you really just wandered straight into this trap. A nice room with metal walls, filled with the scent of machinery, gun powder, and goons surrounding you in a circle. The room is empty, with no sources of cover, a plain battlefield upon which to obliterate the enemy.

Letting out a laugh, your grip on the pistols in your hands tightens and you exhale deeply. Your muscles tense, gaze flicking around and your eyes turn gold. The goon at your nine will move first, followed by the goon at your two, so you plot a route around that and release your power, pushing off with your right foot.

A bullet whizzes past your ear as anticipated and you grin, feeling the adrenaline kick in. Raising the pistol in your left hand, you fire, putting a bullet between your target's eyes before moving to duck the next shot you know is coming.

Your powers flare once again the moment the bullet flies past and time comes to a standstill, golden afterimages shimmering into view. Quickly taking in the scene that will play out for the next two seconds, you release your powers before a headache can kick in and move accordingly. This time, you close the gap between you and the goon, pressing the muzzle of the gun to his forehead.

"So much easier to aim when I'm up close and personal." You grin, pulling the trigger. His face contorts into one of fear just before the bullet pierces through his skull, embedding itself in the brain matter beneath. Blood splatters across your face and you spit out the ones that got into your mouth, grimacing at the taste.

"Don't worry fellas, I'm not a vampire." Your words do nothing to reassure your foes. Instead, they seem to frighten them even further and you sigh. "You guys are no fun."

You turn around and lunge at the nearest goon, eyes flickering golden. The goon screams in terror, blindly firing the rifle in his hands but you dodge, your lips curling into a grin as you focus, aiming one of your pistols at his neck. Your index finger brushes over the trigger and squeezes it as you exhale, lodging a bullet in a major artery that sends more blood spurting all over the scuffed floor.

Turning your attention to the next goon, your eyes flicker golden but quickly turn back to normal as a bullet finds its way into your ribs. Blood blooms in the spot, staining your undershirt red, and now there's a hole in black leather jacket Bucky had gifted to you last year for your birthday.

Shit.

One of them cheers shakily but freezes the moment you growl in annoyance. Another one takes aim but he's too slow. You push the pain aside, focusing on your breaths and move, firing a couple of rounds with the pistol in your right hand before tossing the now empty weapon away, picking up a dead goon's gun as replacement. You would reload your beloved pistol, but there's no cover here to duck behind and buy time, so the only alternative is to pick up a gun that still has bullets.

Your eyes flicker golden for a split second, enough for you to tell where the next attack is going to come from and you exhale sharply, forcing your body to move despite the amount of blood you're losing.

Three more. Three more and you've won.

Another bullet lodges itself in your left shoulder and you grunt, hating the taste of iron in your mouth. It's one thing to taste the blood of your enemies, it's another to taste your own blood. Forcing your injured shoulder to move, you barely manage to hit one of the goons in the leg before you go down on one knee.

Breathing heavily, you look up, seeing a rifle pointed at you from a distance. Even greviously injured, they dare not come close to the Hunter, and it makes you laugh despite the pain.

"Still so afraid of a badly injured person?"

One of them, the one who cheered before, takes the bait and angrily charges at you, dagger raised but your eyes turn golden and your own dagger slams upwards into his chin first, his dagger clattering uselessly to the floor.

"Maybe you're right." Cough. "To be afraid."

The pointed rifle fires and you grin, silently sending an apology to Bucky.

Sorry handsome, guess I'm going first.

You stare straight at the bullet, willing it to hurry up and end your suffering when suddenly a shadow looms over you and the bullet collides with something metal.

"On the scale of 1 to 10, how much idiocy did you leave the house with today?"

"0?"

"The correct answer is 20!" The man known as James Buchanan Barnes, formerly the Winter Soldier closes the distance between him and the goon who fired their rifle, knocking them out with a single punch from his metal fist. He then whirls around, rifle in hand and lands a shot in the last goon's leg before angrily storming over to slam the butt of the rifle into the goon's head.

"Heh. I almost won." You laugh, blood bubbling from your lips.

"Almost won? What part of this do you call almost —" The last thing you see is the panicked face of your fiance before the world spins and turns black, but you're pretty sure he caught you before you hit the floor. He would. He's your overprotective and ever worrying fiance after all, the man called James Buchanan Barnes.

When you wake up, it's in a sterile white room and the sharp scent of disinfecting alcohol hits your nose. You wince, holding your breath for a bit before slowly exhaling, letting your senses adjust to the new environment. After blinking a few times, you notice the mop of brunette hair next to you and feel a warm hand resting in your left hand, left of the mop of hair. A metal arm rests on the other side of the mop of hair, metal fingers curled around the pristine white sheets.

"You're gonna crumple the sheets." You don't know why that's the first thing you say, but there's no taking it back now. Bucky's head shoots up, ice blue eyes wide and he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees you staring right back at him.

"You idiot!" He exclaims, metal fist clenching tighter around the sheets. "I — I thought I was going to —"

Tears stream down his cheeks, staining the white sheets and your heart aches at the sight.

"Buck —"

"I can't lose you! You don't get to die before me, you hear that?" His voice cracks, and so does your heart. "You — you don't get to die before me."

"Bucky —"

"I can't afford to lose you, not when I've already lost everything else. You're the only one I have left, you're my entire world, I need you." The words come tumbling out and he holds you as close as he can, forehead pressing against yours. His hair tickles your cheeks and you strain to raise your right hand to gently cup his face.

You feel terrible about what you've put him through, rightfully so considering how you promised never to hurt him.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I'm sorry for scaring you, for hurting you."

He breaks down sobbing, clutching you tightly. "I've never been afraid of anything until I saw you collapse to the ground, bleeding all over the floor. Don't you ever do that again."

"I promise," you murmur, gently kissing his tears away. He sniffles, nuzzling into your hair before pressing kisses all over your face. You hum softly, threading your fingers through his hair and smile at him, ignoring the burning pain in your side that has kicked in.

Right on cue, a doctor steps into the room and Bucky moves to make space for him. After administering some medicine and checking on your condition, the doctor leaves, informing Bucky that you should be discharged in a week or less. Bucky nods, thanking the doctor for his help and sits back on the stool.

"Hey, Buck?"

"Yes, love?"

"I'm sorry for ruining the jacket."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "You got shot multiple times, almost died, and you're apologising about the jacket?"

"Well it was a nice jacket and now it's ruined." You shrug, hissing when the motion causes a sharp twinge of pain in your injured shoulder. Right, yes, you have an injured shoulder.

"You're an absolute idiot, you know that?" He huffs in mock irritation.

"And yet you love me." You grin cheekily. He rolls his eyes, giving your cheek a poke.

"When you're discharged, you owe me a meal as compensation for scaring me like that." He gives your forehead a flick. "So hurry up and get better fast, I want the Italian down the street from the bookstore."

"So demanding," you snort. His lips curve into a split second grin as he turns away, heading for the door.

"No more trying to die, alright love?"

You watch as he leaves, closing the door behind him.

"I suppose not, sergeant."

[j-eryewrites]

Enemy

Chapter Four of Under Pressure: A Thunderbolts Fic

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SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Word Count: ~5.8k

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Warnings: Canon typical violence, THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS, language, mentions of manipulation, vivid descriptions of pain and violence, Sentry and Void, angst and hurt, no comfort. (Let me know if I missed anthing)

Author's Note: We're getting to the good stuff now. I had a lot of fun writing this. Again this wasn't really proofread. I'll go back an edit the chapters, but my motivation for writing has really kicked in so I'm following the high. Anyway, please enjoy this next chapter! (Also I mixed up the chapter titles for this and the previous chapter. It's fixed now, so no need to worry ;) )

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Your eyes flung open. White blinding light filled your view. Blinking a few times, you groaned the sound falling short in your mouth as you saw your reflection on the white linoleum flooring. A cold chill crept down your spine, sending waves of fear throughout your body. Whipping your head up you found yourself in a long colorless hall. Walls lined with observation windows and blinking locking mechanisms. Your lip began to tremble as a sickening recognition filled you. You had gotten out. Escaped. The Avengers had taken you in and made sure you never saw the walls of this place again. Yet here you were. 

Standing up, your eyes darted around the hallway. They seemed neverending as the blaring light created a mirrored surface. One thing was for sure. You had to get out. Quickly, your feet dashed down the hallway. Sprinting, you felt your lungs heave with exhaustions. With each step you felt as if the hallway extended further and further becoming a labyrinth. You didn’t know how long you ran. Knees buckling under you, you fell to the ground coming face to face with your reflection once again. 

“Begin the simulation,” a deep voice commanded. You heard the murmurs of the other assisting scientists. A shiver rippled underneath your skin. Using the wall as leverage, you pushed yourself to a stand coming face to face with a window into a lab. As if a sudden drought overfell you, your throat dried up, your voice hoarse as you cried out at the scene. 

There you were, sitting on a gurney hooked up to a vast machine. Wires were strung from your head and fingers. The maze of wires intermingled with the others that were connected to the other children. Fast asleep under the spell of anesthesia, you all were subjected to the tests. But this test was different. It was the one that changed everything. 

Your fist banged against the mirror pane. The glass ripples from the impact of your fists, but never breaks. 

“No, no, no.” Your vocal chords grinded against the other. You had to get in there. You had to stop this, but the glass would not give. “No!” You screamed as the lights in the lab and hallway flickered around you. You helplessly watched as the scientists scrambled to adjust settings and shut the test down. Wires sparked and one by one the children surrounding the machine bodies erupted in seizures. Eyes rolled back, drool and foam trickled from the mouth. Their veins splicing, the blood spilling out mimicking the shape of the electrical current flowing through them. Heart monitoring screeched, blaring red. With one final flash, everything went dark. 

It was a few moments before the backup generators flickered on. You knew what came next, but still you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene. Bodies of scientists and children littered the room. All dead except for one. Turning your head away as your sleeping body aroused from the drug induced slumber, you noticed a figure standing beside you. Jumping back, you came to face dark blue eyes. The tears pooling in his eyes mirrored yours. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

“Jesus, how long does it take to wake someone up?” A disdainful voice questioned. 

Your vision blinked in and out of focus. Two dark figures zoomed in and out. Your brain was foggy and everything was sore, your body fighting the rising conscious state. 

“The medical staff stated that it shouldn’t be long now,” a soft voice tried to explain. 

You watched the fuzzy scene as the shorter figure approached you. You tried to make sense of it all, but your mind kept growing blanks. It took a moment before any semblance of movement displayed from your limbs. At the twitch of your fingers you heard the excitement from the soft one. “Valentina,” she said. You watched with clearer eyes as she pulled the other’s sleeve. Soon the view bloomed to life. “She’s awake.” 

“Ah, there you are Ms. Stark. We were starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up. Oh and don’t think about doing your little energy thing.” Perfectly manicured nails pointed to two bulky bracelets thrumming with power. “The tower wasn’t the only thing I bought from your father’s company.” 

You knew that voice. Without a second thought you shot up from the bed you lay in. Tubes and wires connecting to monitors hung attached to your fingers and arms. “Valentina,” you hissed. Upon seeing her dark hair and white strands framing her heart-shaped face everything came back to you: the vault, and the others, Project Sentry and Bob. 

“Where’s Bob?” You coughed. Valentina’s assistant, Mel, handed you a cup of water. You scowled at the cup of liquid. Noticing your hesitation, Valentina assured you it wasn’t poison. “I wouldn’t put it past you. Now, where's Bob?” 

“Robert is fine,” Valentina began. You couldn’t help how your eyes narrowed at how she said his name. “In fact he’s perfect.” A soft smile flashed across her face as a calculated hand reached out to yours. You yanked your hand away, causing Valentina’s expression to falter. “Look, I think the two of us got off on the wrong foot.” Flicking her hair out of her face, she continued. “I’m here to help both Robert and you. I–” 

“His name is Bob,” you corrected. 

Valentina let out a strained laugh. “It’s so sweet you think you know him after your little stint in the vault.” She leaned closer to you, her voice growing dangerously low. “But you know nothing about him. At least not as well as I do.” 

Your gaze remained unwavering as you stared at her, but she caught the tiny tremble in your eyes. Could you really say you know him? You’d only known him for a few hours and in that time you had no clue he was Project Sentry. You began to wonder how much you really did know about him. Your eyes flickered to Valentina’s triumphant grin. You shook your head, throwing your doubts about Bob to the wind. “We’ve got you Valentina. The evidence in the vault. The others. I notified Bucky, and he–” 

“Lets stop with the threats, Ms Stark, and talk about this like adults.” You fell silent, eyeing both her and Mel. “Good. Now as I was saying, I’m here to help. The world has felt a void since the Avengers left. Everyone has grown uncertain about who is coming to save the day. I’m sure you’ve felt that hole more than anyone.” Valentina motioned for Mel to hand her the tablet. “Project Sentry, the one you reported to the authorities, is there to fill that ache in your heart.” She handed you the tablet. Your eyes fell down to the screen scanning the information there. It was a picture of Bob alongside concepts and various notes. You had seen these before in the vault, taken photos of some as evidence. “I hope you will welcome Robert as the world’s mightiest hero. All the Avengers bagged into one perfect specimen.” 

“What?” You asked, your tone a caution for Valentina’s next words. 

“I need you, the daughter of Tony Stark and the girl raised by the Avengers to help introduce Sentry,” she pointed to the sketched photos of Bob in a super suit,” to the world. The people, they’ll believe you. They trust you. After all, who wouldn’t believe the child of the Avengers, the heroes we all hold close to our hearts.” 

“No,” you swore,” You tried to kill me in that vault.” 

Valentina asked. “No, I tried to kill criminals. Pests infesting our country. You were swept up with the dirt. An accident.” 

“Pests?” Your jaw clenched at her words. 

“Ms. Stark,” Valentina calmly addressed you. “I want to bring in a new era of peace. In this new world there can be no trash hiding under the bed. We need a clean slate. A fresh start–” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed. Valentina jumped slightly at your voice. “I won’t help you and you sure as hell won’t succeed. They’ll come and–”

“Who? Your little delinquent friends from the vault?” Valentina scoffed. “It’s a miracle you even worked your way out of there in the first place, but to take on me? The Sentry?” She cynically laughed, her words cutting deep against your skin. “They’ll be arrested or dead the moment they step foot near me.” Sitting up straight, she adjusted her matching suit. The fabric pulled taught against her. With a flick of her fingers, Mel had snatched the pad away from you and the two of them stood up opening the door to your strange cell. Just as Valentina was about to exit, she turned back to you. “Oh, and about your help? Let me just say that the media is more susceptible to my charms than you are.” Without another word, she left. The door locking shut behind her. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It had been hours since anyone entered your room. You weren’t really even sure if you could call it that. The empty coloring and design brought you back to your past. Unease boiled in your stomach. You tried to not let Valentina get to you. She knew your past and had used it against you before. But that was long ago. You were older now, smarter, and you’d go through hell and back before you’d let Valentina use you again. 

The only thing keeping you company and letting you know the passing of time was the monitor beside your bed. Every fifteen minutes it’d beep and the strap around your arm would squeeze tightly before releasing. You hated the quiet of the room. You hated the quiet. In the quiet you would think, your mind would be free to remember and remember hurt. Questions and worries filled you. What was Valentina doing to Bob? Was he okay? Did the others make it out? Has Bucky gotten your message? You knew your suit was destroyed, one of the last things you had left that Tony had made for you. Pulling at the sleeve of the medical garment you wore, you felt yourself become lost in your thoughts. 

All of a sudden, the door’s locks were released. Mel peaked her head in. Her songbird necklace clinked against the frame of the door. “Good,” She said. “You’re still awake.” Pushing the door further open, she stepped inside followed by a few others. You eyed the contents of their hands: freshly ironed clothes, makeup, hair products. 

“What’s this?” You asked, scooting back on the medical bed until your back hit the wall.

“Valentina said to get you ready.” 

You frowned. “I told her I–”

“You weren’t going to help?” Mel finished. “Yeah, I know. Still. I’m just doing my job.” 

Without another word she gave the go ahead for the team of people to approach you. Mel took her leave and closed the door. One man in a nurse uniform began to remove the wires and medical devices attached to your person. The bracelets dampening your abilities remained on. Next a woman grabbed your arm, pulling you off the bed. Her hands made quick work of the medical garb’s tie in the back before handing you a change of clothes. 

“Change into these,” she instructed. You slowly eyed her, noting how she didn’t back away from you or turn her head. Realizing she and the others weren’t going to offer any semblance of privacy, you began to change into the new clothes. The shirt hugged your body tightly. Long sleeve clung to your arms and at the end was a small hole for your thumb to slip through. Your pants were high waisted and were of a looser design. It reminded you of lounge wear, but clean and fashionable. Next you slipped on the shoes provided for you, regular white sneakers. 

Once you had changed, you found yourself being dragged to a nearby chair. A man with nicely trimmed hair, began to fiddle with your locks. All while another woman began to pepper your face with makeup. There was no mirror to see what they were doing, but you could guess what they were told to do. Make her look presentable, not enough to debunk the story, but enough to make them all look good. 

You tried making conversation, putting the pieces together to give you a better idea of Valentina’s plan, but none of them spoke other than to tell you to look straight and hold still. Instead, you opted to gain as much as you could from what your eyes and ears were telling you. You couldn’t use your powers and sense the flows of energy nearby, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something for you to go off of. You had gotten glimpses of what lay outside the door as they had all trickled in. The scene was half baked, a construction site. From there you remembered what you had drawn up in your initial investigation of Valentina. She had bought the Avengers tower. Your childhood home. And she was renovating it, but halted the project once the Senate began their investigation. It was probably a long shot, but if it was the tower. You could get out and find Bob. You just needed the opportunity to. 

“Ms. Stark?” Mel’s voice called out to you. You peered over your shoulder at her, not realizing the make and hair artists have completed their jobs. “We’re ready for you.” For a moment, you stayed sitting in your chair, before coming to a stand. Mel motioned for you to follow her as she walked out of the room. Hesitantly, you trailed after her. Your eyes darted around for any sign she was tricking you, but none came. No one stopped you as you walked by. They hardly paid attention to you. 

You nearly tripped over Mel as she came to a stop. “Inside, Ms. Stark,” She told you. It was an elevator. Large and spacious. You glanced at the glowing button pointing up. You nodded your head at Mel as you stepped inside, hoping that you’d be able to figure out what floor you were going to be on. Soon the thrum of the elevator stopped. The doors opened and you stepped out. The room was a husk of what it had been before. Once filled with seating and a long bar along the east wall. It was a room of comfort and welcome arms. A place where you spent many a night playing board games, joking and laughing with your family. Now it was stripped bare. A cold earthen design along the walls accompanied by a few stray chairs and a small bar and seat are to the west. Beside you, the walls held tokens from your past. Weapons and fragments of armour were displayed like a museum. 

“Ah, Ms. Stark,” Valentina greeted. A chute of champagne in her hand. “Speak of the devil, Senator Barnes was just asking about you.” 

Surrounding her were four familiar faces and a scruffy giant man. You blinked a few times, in disbelief of their appearance. 

“Bucky? Guys?” You questioned their presence. “What are you doing here–”

“Is this Tony Stark's daughter?” The bulky man bellowed. You offered a small wave as Yelena groaned into her hand. “Alexei Shostakov. Red Guardian. Pleasure to meet you.” He stepped forward to grasp your hand, taking it into a firm handshake. Retrieving your hand from him, your arm felt like jello. “Yelena talked about you alot. You two are very good friends,” Alexei added. You glanced at Yelena with a shocked expression. She thought you were friends?

“Dad, what did I say about–sorry Stark. He’s just like that.” 

“Uh, no problem,” you muttered a bit bewildered by the attendance of your vault mates, Bucky, Yelena’s dad and Valentina. 

“Jesus, Stark,” Ava gasped. “Why do you look like you're about to go on the front page of a magazine.”  You glanced at your reflection in the display case. Ava was spot on with her assumptions. They’re scruffed up and dirty looks were a stark contrast to your light and innocent look that the artists had dressed you in. 

Before you could respond, Valentina clinked the side of her glass. “While I hate to cut your heartwarming reunion short, but there are more important matters we should be discussing”

“Yeah?” Yelena cocked her head to the side. “You want to talk important, Valentina, you tell us where Bob is.” The others nodded their heads in agreement. 

“She’s got him,” You interjected. “Bob’s project Sentry.” 

“Thank you, Ms. Stark for that…mediocre introduction.” Valentina cleared her throat, brushing her hair over her shoulder. She blinked, glancing around the room at everyone. “Robert,” her voice sang over you all followed by a thud of boots down a set of stairs behind the bar, Valentina leaned against. With a cocky, ear-splitting grin, she soaked in your varied expressions of shock and confusion. 

You stood stunned, eyeing Bob strut down the stairs. His hair bleached blonde and streaked back with a light covering of gel. His body was scarce of any sweat or dirt he collected in the desert vault. Clothing his body was a near skin tight suit. The golden and blue fabric showcased his defined muscles. A dark blue cloak floated behind him. He looked unrecognizable, like a Greek god from the past. 

“Oh my god,” Yelena enunciated. 

“That’s Bob,” Ava muttered. 

Walker nodded his head. “Yes, he’s changed a bit.” 

Valentina clasped her hands together then waving to Bob, she began. “It is my great honor to present to you, the Sentry.” 

Bob stood tall and proud. You swore he grew a few inches. Searching your faces, he shyly smiled. “Hi, guys,” he greeted. His dark blue eyes landed on you, and you swore you saw his breath catch in his throat. “Hi, Y/N,” he said sheepishly. 

“Oh, that’s great,” Walker cursed, adjusting the grip of his shield. 

Smiling, Valentina continued with Sentry’s introduction. “All-powerful, invincible, stronger than all the Avengers combined into one, and soon to be known as Earth’s mightiest hero.” 

Ava’s face scrunched up. “Did you dye your hair?” She asked Bob. 

Bob nodded. “Yeah, well, it was–”

“It was my idea,” Valentina bragged, dragging a hand up Bob’s arm. “People love a classic hero.” 

Bucky’s blue eyes flickered between Bob and you. His eyes noted how the man seemingly couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. You on the other hand scowled at Valentina. “Alright,” Bucky stated. “I’ll bite.” Valentina’s hand drew away from Sentry. “What’s the plan?” 

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Senator Barnes?” She questioned him. Bucky shook his head. “Well at least you’re somewhat cute.” 

“You’re not going to hurt people,” Alexier announced, puffing his chest out. The group began to close in on Valentina. You watched as she stepped behind Bob, the Sentry. 

“No, I’m not going to hurt people,” Valentina corrected. “I’m going to hurt you. You see, the press is on their way up here now and they’re going to witness,” She turned to Bob and smiled, “the amazing power of Sentry as he takes out a ruthless group of rogue agents hell bent on taking out our dear Ms. Y/N Stark.”  You felt all the air in your lungs leave. Yelena and the others glanced at you with varied looks. Some expressed betrayal, others hurt. “Thus beginning a new era in which I decide how to keep the American people safe. Answerable to no one. I will be untouchable and unimpeachable.” 

“That’s not going to happen, Valentina,” you stated. 

“And that’s not for you to decide, Ms. Stark,” Valentina finished. Turning to Bob, she relayed her first command. “Sentry,” he leaned closer to her, “your first mission is to take these criminals out.” 

Bob nodded, accepting the order. Your expression faltered. “I don’t want to hurt you, guys. So why don’t you just surrender?” 

“No,” Walker shook his head. “You don’t want to do this, Bobby.” 

Bob tensed at the nickname. His jaw clenched tightly as he spoke slowly. “You can call me the Sentry.” He took a step forward towards all of them, his fists clenched. 

“Please,” Yelena pleaded. “Don’t do this. You don’t need to listen to her.”

“Robert,” Valentina called out, demanding his attention which he willingly gave to her. “They don’t think you’re good enough.” 

“That’s not true, remember?” Yelena corrected. “You can trust me.” 

For a moment, Bob paused. His dark blue eyes turned into whirlpools of gold. Bob was no longer there. He was only the Sentry. “I don’t think so.” 

Grunting, Alexei cried. “Enough talking! Nobody messes with the West Chesapeake Valley Thunderbolts!” Then he charged Sentry like a rhino, only for Sentry flick his wrist sending Alexei flying into the wall behind him. The sound of concrete shattering filled the air. 

All of a sudden, everyone flew into combat. Next Walker threw his shield. Sentry quickly raised his forearm to block it. The shield bounced off him knocking Walker in the chest. Focused on Walker, Bucky shot his gun. Four bullets shot. One by one they stopped just in front of Sentry. Floating, Sentry eyed the bullets before shooting ricochets back at Bucky, which Walker deflected with his shield. 

From beside Ava appeared. One hand swung at his head. The knives never scratch the surface of the Sentry. Getting back up, Bucky and John charged, coming at the Sentry from all angles. You could only helplessly watch as the Sentry pushed them back, knocking them to the ground. 

Running over to Bucky, you held out your wrists. “Their dampeners, I need the–” Before Bucky could snap them, Yelena crashed into him. Whipping your head around, you saw Ava and Walker continuing their attacks. Alexei came up the rear screaming a battle cry. One by one they fell and got back up. Each time slower and weaker than before. 

Sentry danced around them. Flying, punching, and maneuvering around each of them. His face filled with unwavering confidence as they continued their assault. He swatted them away like pesky flies. His ego and attacks were growing more violent. Ava cried out as Sentry grabbed her out of her phased state, taking her knife out of her hand and chucking it to the side before tossing her into a pile with the others near the elevator. 

You glanced over your friends. They weren’t getting back up. Your eyes darted over to Ava’s discarded knife. You couldn’t use your powers, but you could give them time. Dashing over to the knife, you slid across the ground picking it up. Dust and specs of shattered glass dirtied your clothes. You stood behind Bob, knife drawn as he had his back turned to you, stalking closer to the others. 

“Bob!” You called out his name. The Sentry froze in his pursuit, clicking his lips together he turned to face you. His eyes fell down to the knife that trembled in your grasp. From behind Sentry, Yelena, wide eyed, shook her head at you. 

The Sentry chuckled at your attempt to engage with him in combat. “Y/N,” he tsked. “Don’t do this. I’m supposed to save you.” His pupils went wide with gold flames. 

“This isn’t you, Bob.” The Sentry winced at the name. “Please stop, we’re–”

“It’s Sentry.” He surged towards you. Feet inches off the floor, he grabbed your wrists raising them above your head as he pushed you against a wall. You cried out in pain as his grip on your wrists tightened. The dampeners’ light flickered on and off. Your fingers turned white as you released Ava’s knife. It clattered to the floor in a deafening silence. “Why can’t you just let me save you?” Sentry asked. His head lowered closer and closer to your face. 

“You’re hurting me,” You whimpered. Sensing your fear, Sentry pulled back just enough for you to see the deep blue of his eyes. You gasped as you felt him place a hand against your cheek. His thumb wiping off the dust that had smeared your makeup. In that moment of hesitance, you sensed it. The dampeners crushed by the hand of Sentry, you felt his energy call out to you. Your powers were back. Sentry’s thumb froze beside your lips. His eyes trickled down lower and lower. 

You gulped, closing your eyes. Energy was not meant to stay put. It was meant to be used, redirected. That’s why you had trained to redirect instead of drain. Purely absorbing fried computers and weakened defenses but without anywhere to go, the energy flared up inside you, fighting your own energy like weeds trying to overtake a garden. Smaller and weaker weeds were easier to fight. Larger ones with deeper roots took time to drown it out. You could only wait as your body fought the foreign currents. A struggle that only got worse with the remnants of the mind stone staining your energy flow.  You knew the risks. The dangers that came from trying to tackle his energy, swallowing the overflowing wisps that glowed brighter than the sun. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, barely loud enough for the Sentry to hear. Suddenly, his feet touched the ground. He blinked a few times, noticing the faint glow from streaming down from your hands and the top of your head. You were draining his energy, weakening him. His hand dropped to his side, releasing you. His energy inside you was fighting yours, begging to be let out and redirected. You collapsed to the floor clenching your stomach. It burned. 

Behind Sentry, stood for one final push. Stripping off his leather jacket he charged Sentry whose eyes wavered with betrayal. You had weakened him. Not enough to beat him, but enough to give them a chance. Bucky punched his arms against Sentry. Relentless, Bucky fought Sentry, who stood eerily still. 

After a minute of Bucky’s attack, Sentry caught Bucky’s metal arm. His fist made the metal groan before he tore it off Bucky and hit him with it. 

Chucking the arm to the side, Sentry stared down at you, as you trembled with pain. A part of him ached at the sight of you struggling to keep Sentry’s energy at bay. It was one thing to absorb the energy of a supercomputer, but when it came to the energy of a thousand suns it hurt. Sentry’s eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to you, cocking his head to the side to study your pain. Your skin was flaring up with a gold light as your typical iridescent lighting flickered in and out. As time passed, the gold light got brighter, scorching your veins. 

In your pain, you made eye contact with the others. “Go!” You yelled through clenched teeth.“Go!” Bucky was the first to take action, pulling Walker and the others to their feet. His  glacier blue eyes flickered to yours. They saw your determination behind the sweat and tears that trickled down your face. You were giving them a chance to run, a chance to fight another day. You watched as they quickly trickled into the elevator. Bucky pausing to look at you before fleeing. Sighing in relief as the elevator doors closed, your fingers tensed against the ground. 

The clicking of heels echoed across the floor covered in debris did little to draw Sentry’s attention from you shriveled up on the floor. “You should’ve listened, Ms. Stark.” You whimpered as the pain of Sentry’s energy coursed through you. Is this what Bob felt when they injected him with this power? The power seared everything it touched, making it hard to see or hear anything. “Finish the job, Robert,” Valentina commanded, glowering at you with disgust on her face. She could secure Sentry’s future without you. 

Sentry’s eyes flickered away from you. “Finish the job?” He glanced down back at you. The ache in his chest before was getting stronger. You were like this because of him. He was meant to save you, not this. Now Valentina wanted him to kill you. That wasn’t the plan. “No.” 

Valentina blinked once. Then twice. Her eyes dragged from your struggling figure to the Sentry. “What?” 

“That wasn’t the plan,” he stated. 

Valentina’s voice rose. “You have to do what I tell you, Robert.” She sounded like a mother scolding a child’s disobedient act. 

“Why?” Sentry asked, challenging Valentina’s words. The confidence of a god that Bob possessed before faltered, leaving cracks of insecurity and uncertainty. Even crumpled in on yourself glowing like a ticking time bomb, you felt the shift in power. Valentina grew more and more fearful, desperate to regain control. “It has to be more of a collaboration,” Bob began to pace around the room as the pain inflicted by Sentry’s power began to ease up on you. “The hair, for example. Maybe I should have had more of a say.” 

“Don’t let those idiots get in your head,” Valentina tried to soothe this new breaking foundation Sentry stood on. “The blond is great.” 

His mind turned to the skepticism Ava and the other had at his hair. They hated it? Didn’t they? “I don’t know, I thought I liked it and now I’m not so sure,” Bob mumbled under his breath. 

“Enough about the hair,” Valentina demanded. “Are you still mumbling about the hair?” 

“No,” Bob shook his head. The shakiness that was present in his hands before returned. “It’s everything. My suit, my name, my missions.” He raised his head, putting a halt to his pacing. His eyes lightly twitched before settling on Valentina. A shadow of darkness crept onto his face making his blue eyes seem more like the darkest depths of the sea. “I mean, why would a god take orders from…,” Bob stalked closer towards Valentina. With each step he took she took one back. As Bob cornered Valentina, you managed to crawl away towards the side. The pain still flared up every so often, but it was more manageable than before. Your energy had begun to fight back against his energy, and it was winning. “Anyone at all?” 

Valentina scoffed. “I think you're using the word God a little loosely there.”

Bob shook his head. “No, no, because you said I was. All-powerful and invincible and stronger than an entire Avengers team, which includes at least one god.” He noted how Valentina’s eyes widened, briefly flashing with fear. Her hand slowly drew behind her back. “So I thought I was starting to...I think maybe you don't know what I am. Or what I'm capable of.”

“Oh, damn it,” Valentina cursed. 

“Perhaps I need to show you,”Bob challenged. 

“This is very irritating–” Valentina exclaimed, but found Bob’s hand around her throat flying her back into a nearby wall. Startled, she dropped a small device. You eyed it and the small red light atop the device. Valentina gasped upon impact.

“You were going to turn on me,” Bob accused. His grip on her neck tightened. Valentina clawed at Bob’s hands as she choked for air. “Just like the rest of them.”

“I'm not afraid of you, Robert.” Valentina choked, trying to gain some power in the situation. 

Bob shook his head, eyes a fire with the challenge he presented to her. “That's not what you need to be afraid of.”

Click. 

Bob’s eyes rolled back into his head. He fell limp, falling to the floor. 

Gasping for air, Valentina peered up. Kneeled on the floor, with the kill switch in hand was you. You weren’t sure how you got to the device. You knew it held some importance, that it could stop Bob. You didn’t want him to have her death on his hands. Bob was a hero. A misguided one, manipulated by Valentina. Despite it all, you knew what lied underneath. After all, you had seen it, the hero in Bob, as he sacrificed himself so that you all could escape the vault. That’s why you pressed the switch, but why was he still? Why was Bob not breathing?

The elevator door dinged behind you. A light of recognition and relief filled Valentina as she stood up and approached the person behind you. As she passed by you, she paused. Her heels clicked together. “Call clean up. We need to get rid of the body,” Valentina announced loudly. You froze. Your heart was pounding thunderously in your ears. You didn’t see the smirk on Valentina’s face as she walked away. “Tell Holt it’s finally time to go lethal on these losers.” 

You didn’t move even after the elevator doors closed carrying Valentina far away from you. You could hardly breathe. The pain from before was nothing to how your body constricted itself. Your lungs tightened forcing all air out in cries and gasps. You had killed Bob. You hadn’t realized it was a kill switch, instead thinking it was something equivalent to a super power shock collar. Staring at his lifeless body, you sobbed. Chucking the switch away, you crawled over to Bob muttering useless apologies. His eyes were closed as you took his head into your lap. No energy flowed beneath your fingertips. Instead lay a void absent of all light. 

As you mourned Bob’s death and your actions, you didn’t notice how the room grew darker. Shadows from the corners crept closer reaching out spreading like ink tainting the room around you. The tendrils of black drew closer, swirling around and reaching out to Bob. Wiping your eyes clear from tears, you saw the darkness swallowing him whole. Startled, you backed away, watching the shadow around you be soaked up by Bob’s body. You eyed the body void of all light, shape or definition. The lights in the room flickered and the building quaked. You tried to stand up, but your knees buckled under you, still weak from your attempt to weaken the Sentry earlier. 

“Y/N Stark,” a voice coldly called out your name. You looked up from the ground to find Bob’s body floating in the air. A gasp left your lips at the sight. Whatever was before you wasn’t Bob. It took his form, but was empty of everything that was him. Where once blue eyes lived were piercing white pupils. Small and dagger like they stared at you, taunting you. “You thought you could save him. Be the hero your father always wanted you to be, but you know the truth. You’re weak. Scared. Not worthy of the legacy they left you.”

His words sliced deep, cutting loose the fears and insecurities you tried so hard to push down. “How can you save anyone if you can’t even control your powers?” He floated closer to you. The air around you turned cold and menacing, stealing away your breath. “You really just a Jinx.” He hissed your title like a slur. A name given in love now flipped around to stab you deep in the heart. 

“Bob, stop it,” you pleaded, trying to crawl away from him. 

“He can’t hear you,” it said. Raising a hand up to you, he cocked his head to the side. “You can’t escape me, can’t escape the void.” You braced yourself for an attack that never came. Darkness drowned out all light, swallowing up your vision. 

Suddenly the room burst with a white light. ““Begin the simulation.”

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Kinktober (11)- Power Imbalance

Boss Natasha X Employee Reader 18+

Summary: When you were called into your boss's office, you were expecting to be fired, not fucked on her desk.

Warnings/Tags: SMUT MDNI, Boss/Employee relationship, Fingering, Oral, Brief Spanking, Desk Sex, Multiple orgasms 

Kinktober Masterlist

“Miss Y/L/N,” you look up when you hear a woman say your name, a soft smile gracing her lips, “Miss Romanoff would like to see you in her office.” Fear ran through your body at the sympathetic look the woman gave you afterwards, your mind running a million miles an hour as you tried to figure out why your boss would want to see you in her office. When the woman turned and walked a few steps, looking over her shoulder at you expectantly making your eyes widen.

“N-now?” you stuttered out, not ready to face one of the most intimidating women you’ve ever met, especially when all your brain can think about is her firing you.

“Yes Miss Y/L/N, now,” there's a slight smile tugging at her lips, “I’d hurry if I were you, she doesn’t like to wait.” Papers go flying off your desk as you scramble out of your seat to catch up with the woman, following her confident stride with anxiety coursing through you. Once you reach the door with a sign saying Miss Romanoff, you take in a deep breath before turning to the woman for some support only to find her gone. Nervously, your knuckle raps against the door as you wait for a response, a professional ‘come in’ muffled by the door.

“Take a seat Miss Y/L/N,” she says to you without even looking away from her paperwork, fingers swiftly flicking through the pages before closing the file and turning her attention to you. You listen to her, an apology and mini speech ready in your mind in case she does fire you as you sit in the surprisingly comfortable seat. “I suppose you’re wondering why I called you in here?” Her tone is full of professionalism as she addresses you, her posture amazing as you try and not focus on the suit she’s wearing and how amazing she looks in it.

“Yes Miss Romanoff,” you manage out, feeling small under her intense gaze, a blush tinting your cheeks.

“Well, we’re here to discuss your work here at Avengers so far and what you have done,” your mind dreads what’s to come, you thinking you have horribly messed up all the paperwork you have done for the company so far. “Can you tell me when you handed in the completed file regarding the Strucker case?”

“Uh,” you search for the answer in your brain, taking a moment to remember fully what happened. You remembered staying after your shift had finished to complete the case file, being the last worker in the building to make sure you had it done a few days prior to the deadline. “I handed it in on the 5th, the deadline being the 10th,” you watch her reaction closely but to no avail as her face remains strictly professional.

“The Hydra case?”

“Handed in on the 11th but it was re-evaluated on the 12th, so um the 14th would be when it was handed in, the deadline being the 20th.” Your hands play with each other, a nervous habit you could never escape.

“Are you aware that the 11th and 12th was a weekend?”

“Yes?”

“Ok,” her fingers open the file once more, eyes scanning over the information present, “And what about the Ultron file?”

“Completed by the 25th, the deadline being the 30th,” she asks you many more questions regarding other cases you completed, your nerves building after every question.

“Are you also aware that you managed to complete eight high level priority cases within two months when it would have taken others at least three to four?” Your mouth parted at her words, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“No Miss Romanoff, I wasn’t,” you say, still a little confused.

“Well, you should be extremely impressed by yourself Miss Y/L/N,” a smile takes over your face at her compliment, your eyes watching her as she stands from her seat, walking around her desk until she could lean back on the front of it, standing directly in front of you now. “For doing so well, I have a little offer for you,” her tone drops an octave, the blush on your cheeks darkening as her green eyes look you up and down. “I can either shake your hand and congratulate you on your work, or I can find a more satisfactory way to thank you.” Her hands wrap around the metal arm rests of your seat, her body towering over yours as a wave of heat and arousal washes over you. “What will it be, Miss Y/L/N?”

You answer by slowly and cautiously leaning up to press your lips to hers, her hands cupping your jaw and tilting your head up to deepen the kiss. You moan into her mouth when her tongue slides across your bottom lip, seeking entrance to which you happily gave. Hesitantly, you placed your hands on her waist as she guided you out of the chair, spinning you around so your back hit her desk as her body pressed itself into yours. Her knee slotted between your legs, a groan escaping you at the action and breaking the kiss apart.

“Fuck,” you hear her sigh out, hands going to the back of your thigh and lifting you onto her desk. “Do you know how hard it’s been to resist you?” she pants out near your ear as she peppers kisses along your jaw, her hands sliding under your skirt and softly massaging the skin of your thighs. “My good, innocent little employee who’s so desperate to please?”

“Natasha,” you moan out, deciding to ignore formalities as you can feel her hand creeping high up your leg, fingertips ghosting your embarrassingly wet panties. “Please,” you can feel her smirk against the skin of your neck, her tongue licking a stripe up the column of your throat before she pulls back to look at you.

“Hush little one,” she rasps out, “Let me take care of you.” A whimper leaves your lips as she descends to her knees, a sultry smirk present on her face as she unzips your skirt and pulls the item off swiftly, your panties following suit. “You’re so wet for me,” she murmurs, kissing along your inner thighs to make your body throb with want and need for her.

“Please don’t tease me,” you whine out at the feeling of her warm breath fanning over your dripping core. She seems to take pity on you, mouth going straight to your clit and sucking gently, fingers running through your folds and gathering your wetness before effortlessly sliding into you. “Oh shit,” you moan out when her tongue swirls around your clit expertly, her fingers curling inside you perfectly as she hits all the right spots inside you.

Soon, she’s thrusting her fingers into you mercilessly, your knuckles bleeding white as you grip the edge of her desk for support, her tongue relentless on your sensitive clit. Your hands release the desk of their death grip, moving to tangle into her red locks. However, Natasha pulls back at this briefly and looks up at you, your arousal coating her lower face.

“Hands off Kotenok,” she husks out, the sound of her native tongue slipping from mouth makes you somehow even wetter. You listen to her words, moving your hands out of her hair and back to the poor table beneath you, mind clouding with pleasure as she adds another finger into you. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to approach, her name falling off your lips like a chant as she continues to eat you out like she's starved.

“I’m gonna-” you cut yourself off with a scream, one of your hands clasping over your mouth to muffle the noise while the other instinctively goes to her hair once again as you come all over her mouth. She lets you ride out your orgasm before pulling back and letting her hand connect with your core, spanking your pussy making you cry out.

“I told you to keep your hands off,” her tone dangerously dominant as she looks up at you, sending a shiver down your spine. Her mouth goes back to your core, merciless as she listens to the pathetic noises that leave your lips as she drives you to another orgasm. Just as you're about to come again, she pulls back and spanks your core again, a guttural moan echoing around the room as she sends you straight into your second orgasm with the slap, body shaking on her desk. “Fuck, you like it when I spank you?” she taunts, standing up right and claiming your lips, “If I knew that I wouldn’t have hesitated to call you in here and bent you over my desk.”

“Please do,” you whimper out, her shaking her head softly and gently kissing you, letting you calm down after two intense orgasms.

“Not today little one,” she murmurs, “This was just meant to be a thank you but I got carried away.” You wish she would do it today but the rational part of you knew you shouldn’t rush into anymore, especially after only just finding out you liked to be spanked. “How about you have a meeting with me on Friday, we can discuss whatever you want?” Her hands comfort you by roaming your body before she helps you redress, a blush on your face as you anticipate what could happen.

“I’ll see you Friday, Miss Romanoff,” you say teasingly but before she can say anything else in response, the woman from earlier, who you realise is her secretary, knocks on the door to alert her of the meeting in a few moments.

“Don’t be a brat or maybe you’ll end up bent over this desk sooner than Friday,” she purrs into your ear, gathering the file from her desk and walking you to the door. “Enjoy the rest of your day Miss Y/L/N,” she softly says with a smile, you smiling in response before watching her walk away to the elevator, hips swaying subtly before looking over her shoulder to send a wink your way as the doors closed.

Only three more days till Friday…

[wandanatsbrat7]

❆COLD LOVE❆

summary: After your parents death, it’s finally time for you to become queen. Your younger sister, Wanda, is more excited than you. Unfortunately, becoming queen requires you to hide your deepest darkest secret from not only your little sister, but the entire kingdom of Eldoria as well. It also requires you to have your own personal protector… a certain redheaded knight per se…

pairings: intersex!knight!natasha x enhanced!queen!reader (romantic), princess!wanda x enhanced!queen!reader (siblings), intersex!knight!natasha x toddler!peter&yelena (siblings), princess!wanda x prince!bruce (faux romance), princess!wanda x iceworker!jarvis (romantic)

warnings: beefy!intersex!nat (bc thats a warning itself), bruce is prince hans in this story, duke of weaseltown😐, mean!reader for like one sec…four chaps, yes olaf Oleg is a talking snowman…imagine him, sven Bullet, and the trolls in cgi like pickachu/sonic/stitch, use of y/n…ikr ew🙄, mentions of death, near death experience (r&w), death, angst, fluff, smut (one chap cause i’ve never written it b4), foul language, violence….lmk if i missed anything

a/n: this is basically frozen but grown lmaoo, tbh i love this movie and am almost always watching it for comfort, and this time i just so happened to combine a few universes and wound up w this idea so🤷🏽‍♀️also this is my kinda-first fic so bare w me plz!! i accept criticism and help, just don’t be rude abt it!! i am writing this for my own benefit/imagination so if you don’t fwi then leave💋i hope yall enjoy tho🫡

ps: if you are a bruce lover this might not be the story for you…js

pps: don’t mind how crooked my pic-collage and snowflake heart thing is lol, it’s my first time making something like this

| - do you wanna build a snowman

|| - first time in forever

||| - let it go

|||| - in summer

||||| - deep, deep, snow

|||||| - fixer upper

||||||| - capture the queen

|||||||| - if only

||||||||| - if only pt.2

|||||||||| - an act of true love

||||||||||| - the end??

[themidnightcrimson]

good morning ࿏ wm

summary: in which you decide to get what you want first thing in the morning.

words: 3.9k

warnings: top!wanda, power bottom!reader, dubcon/noncon, breeding kink, cumstrap (r receiving), somno (r giving), blowjob on cumstrap (r giving), enhanced strap, brief choking, just imagining slutting top!wanda out like this woeidbsibfwioe its the power bottom in me

this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni. read with discretion.

masterlist.

The room was cool and the bed warm by the time you woke up. Legs shifting smoothly under the crisp sheets, you could hear the faint chirp of a lone bird outside the window along with what sounded like a gentle spring morning rain shower.

Plat plat plat plat the rain softly tapped against the window and quietly onto the roof above you. It was a sleepy rain, an early morning rain whose clouds blocked the sun from glaring through your window. It made waking a little easier, a little more soft.

The other thing that made waking a peaceful experience was the warm body you were tangled up with. The soft, curled ends of light brown hair tickled your bare shoulder, and it was the first thing you saw in the dim room as you opened your eyes. Your head rose and fell slowly with Wanda’s steady breath. It was resting on her bare chest, the skin there hot against your ear. She always slept so hot.

Your legs were tangled with hers, your arm thrown across her torso. As you blinked your eyes awake, you tilted your head upwards to get an angle of her from below. The stretch of her jawbone, the mountain of her cheekbones just beyond it. Heavy eyelashes fluttered closed, deep pink lips pursed in her sleep. The crinkle between her eyebrows that was always there when she slept. She was starting to get a permanent wrinkle from it, and while she was embarrassed of it, you told her it was just the imprint of all the dreams she’d ever had right there in one wrinkle between her brows so she would never forget them. Wanda was always a deep dreamer, for better or worse.

The puffy comforter you shared rested right below her breasts, likely pushed down during her overheated sleep. Her hair was splayed over her chest, barely covering the peaks of her soft pink nipples. Her skin looked pale and soft under the dim gloomy morning light. You let your hand glide over the soft expanse of her tummy, fingers pressing into her flesh as you shift, waking up a little more. Letting out a silent yawn, you casually let your hand stroll further down beneath the blanket, being thrown off guard a little when your hand touches cool silicone between her legs.

It was Wanda’s new creation still left strapped around her hips via harness from last night’s endeavors. It took a lot of research and magical effort for Wanda to create her enchanted strap that functions like a biological part of her body. Using her magic, she enchanted the strap so that she can feel through it and cum through it. Let’s just say the first few tries once she perfected it could be described as very quick, hot, and wet on her end. It was the most mind-blowing feeling she had ever felt, being able to feel you inside. Even now, a few weeks later, she still warns you how sensitive it still is, which you could tell from the beginning because of how fast she came with you.

Wanda’s magic was very powerful—spontaneous creation. For that reason, she insisted on wearing a condom the first several times using the enchanted strap out of fear of accidental pregnancy, though you knew she secretly had a breeding kink. Finally, she stopped using condoms, but she still pulled out of you every time. It was hot, seeing her get so close to just doing it, to just letting go and planting her cum deep inside you. You could see it on her face every time. But every time, milliseconds before release, she pulls out and chooses to spill all over your tummy or back instead. Of course, that was also hot in its own right. But you desperately wanted her to cum inside. You weren’t sure if it was the risk or the ownership aspect of it, but you fucking needed it.

And you knew she wanted it too. She had a tendency to hold you down when she’s about to cum, almost as if she is about to force you to take her cum, which you willingly would take every single drop. You even told her in a heated moment of passion to cum inside you once, and she almost did accidentally. Hearing you say that made her orgasm immediately, and she had to frantically pull out right as she spurted all over your mound, making sounds you’d never heard her make.

And now, in the dim morning light with cozy rain coming from outside, and Wanda’s soft, warm sleeping body with her cock in your hand as you thought over all these times with the new magical piece, you wanted it.

But she was so pretty and peaceful in her sleep with her crinkled brow of dreams and her slowly rising and falling chest. You wouldn’t wake her.

Licking your lips, you shifted your body so that you hovered over her, taking great care in slinking down her body without moving the blankets or the bed too much. With the hem of the blanket resting at the back of your neck, you rested your elbows over her plush thighs, eyeing the strap that now sat right in front of your face.

Humming, you trail your fingers to the harness straps, fiddling with the fabric on her hips for a moment before you carefully let them trail to the base of her cock, taking it in your fist gently. Glancing back up to her, you saw the same image—her head resting on the pillow, turned to the side, sleeping peacefully like an angel. The warmth between your legs grew as you formulated the plan of your desires, licking your lips and coming closer to her strap.

You placed Wanda’s length in your mouth. It surprised you every time how big she was—an advantage she smugly gave herself when crafting her piece. Suctioning your lips, you began to swirl your tongue around the tip of the strap with a gentle but purposeful pressure.

It didn’t take long before your mouth ignited the spell within the strap, and her magic peered through the silicone in cracks that looked like molten lava in a crimson hue. That’s how you knew she was aroused now, and as you looked up at her again, she was still sleeping as peacefully as ever.

It took some practice for you to understand how to give your girlfriend a blowjob since it was your first time, but Wanda was patient and could get off with basically any touch you gave her with how sensitive the strap felt when she wore it anyways.

So you lowered your mouth further down on her strap that was warming up between your lips, keeping your hand on the base to keep it steady. Letting your other hand gently squeeze her thigh, you sucked her gently, wanting to make her feel good but not wanting to wake her up. It startled you when, as you took her entirety in your mouth so that the tip of her cock poked the back of your throat, Wanda’s legs twitched under you. It was only once and, looking up as you deepthroated her, you saw that the sleeping look on her face remained unchanged.

The depth with which you took her in your throat prompted tears to form in your eyes and saliva in your mouth. Sniffling, you kept taking her all the way in and then suctioning as you lifted your mouth from her, letting your tongue flick around her tip before deepthroating her again. You were slow and gentle, but she was hot and throbbing with magical arousal. You could even smell it on her now and, reaching down under the base where her slit was, you found that she was wet there, too.

Getting excited, you bobbed your head perhaps a little too hard, and she twitched again, this time letting her head sway to the other side. You paused, waiting for any sign of further movement or signs of being awake, but she was still deep asleep, the crease in her brow deeper now. You went back to sucking her off dutifully, and as wet sounds filled the air, Wanda moved again, this time arching her back. The movement sent her hips bucking up, which shoved her cock into your throat unexpectedly, causing you to choke on her girth.

Recovering, you continued carefully and watched as she twitched and squirmed in her sleep, somehow still staying deep asleep even as you could feel her throb faster. Her lips fell open at one point, soft gasps of air filling the quiet, dim room along with your wet sucking sounds. Her body heated up even more under your hands, and she started to buck her hips more.

Picking up your speed, you deepthroated her more and more, choking yourself on her strap while she grew even more restless. You knew she was seconds away from cumming, so you grabbed the base of her strap and sucked harder and faster. Finally, with a whispery, sleepy moan, and a more violent twitch of her hips, Wanda came in your mouth. You kept your mouth around her, feeling her warm cum gush at the back of your throat and ooze down it. You waited, letting her twitch and gasp and push out every last drop of cum before you finally swallowed it and took her out of your mouth. She was sweet to the taste with just a hint of metal, an interesting mix of her magic that reminded you of the taste of her real arousal.

There were many benefits to this magical creation of Wanda’s, one of many being that there was an unlimited supply.

Her cock now wet and shiny and slightly glowing, you carefully crawled back up her body and straddled her. She had almost immediately fallen back into utter stillness as soon as she came, except for her chest that was rising and falling much faster now. Biting your lip, you reached down and took her breasts into your hands, squeezing and letting your thumb roll over her nipples that were already rock hard for you. You could feel her cock, resting below your thigh, twitch and throb, basically vibrating with magic. All you could taste was her cum that coated the inside of your mouth, the taste still soaked into your tongue.

She just looked so pretty, even more relaxed now, having just helplessly cum in your mouth without even knowing it. Leaning down, you pressed a chaste kiss to her still lips before moving your mouth to her neck and pressing soft, wet kisses there. You let your hand grope her breasts for a moment before sliding it down and rubbing her tummy, lowering it further and further until you reached below yourself and took her strap in your hand again.

Still kissing her neck, and feeling her twitch once below you, you adjusted yourself over her cock and rubbed your throbbing, wet slit down her length, not letting it go inside. You remember the first time you did that, before she ever went inside you with the new strap, and she had prematurely came. She had been so embarrassed, taking off the cum-filled condom and tearing the strap off of her and getting up, but you’d found it so hot. You loved having this control over her. You loved knowing that you held this power over her, that you could make her cum so easily, that she desired you so much that she found it hard to even have any control. You wanted to tease her constantly, to degrade her and embarrass her by using her desire for you against her.

Wanda’s sleepy breaths hitched as you rubbed your warm, wet folds up and down her length, leaving a wet, sticky trail on the strap. She shifted under you, turning her head back to the other side. Her eyebrows creased deeper, her face contorting into a look of neediness as she subconsciously bucked her hips, pushing herself harder onto you. Chuckling, you gave her one last kiss on her neck before sitting up fully, unable to control yourself anymore. You wanted to get what you truly wanted out of her before she woke up.

Your breathing growing heavier, along with the rain pattering much harder on the window outside, you lined Wanda’s cock up with your entrance, letting it sit there pressed against it for a moment. You took a deep breath—her size still surprised you, and you still needed to relax and prepare yourself before taking her in. Thanks to the blowjob and how wet you were, there was enough lubrication for you to lower yourself down on her cock, feeling her slide right in and stretch your walls around her.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you stopped halfway, feeling a tinge of pain. Wanda shifted beneath you, which didn’t help, so you just took another deep breath and basically slammed yourself down on her, Wanda’s entire cock ramming deep inside you.

As if on cue, right as you let out a louder shriek than you meant to because of the way her cock hit your cervix, Wanda also let out a sleepy form of a moan, her head swaying to the side as her legs shifted under the blankets below you.

Placing your hands on her shoulders, you stayed still and felt her throb inside you as she squirmed, watching her eyes scroll side to side behind her eyelids. Biting your lip, you slowly lifted yourself off halfway before coming back down again, nearly seeing stars when she hit your deepest point again.

It was obvious that doing this wasn’t going to keep her asleep for much longer. She was still moving, eyelids fluttering, lips twitching as if trying to speak between her growing breaths. She was breathing faster now, redness blooming on her cheeks.

There was no point in being careful now. Grinding your teeth together, you rolled your hips, throwing your head back as she hit your sweet spot in your lower tummy. She was so big that her cock was basically all you could feel as you rode her, feeling pure pleasure bloom inside you as you anticipated the ending you were dreaming about.

“Mmmm-nnnn” Wanda murmured as she squirmed more beneath you, kicking at the sheets covering her feet and arching her back. “Ahhh…” She was starting to come to, being lured by your actions into an in-between state between sleeping and waking. She was arching her back off the bed and bucking her hips up into you, natural instinct to have more friction and be as close to you as possible coming through.

Power filled you as you stared down at the helpless witch, her cock lodged deep inside you, throbbing as you bounced on it. You bit the tip of your tongue and squeezed her shoulders, digging your nails into her skin as you rode her cock.

The feeling of your nails in Wanda’s skin was the one thing that brought her into awareness. Her eyelashes fluttered, mouth dropping open. Finally, her eyes opened fully, exposing those pretty irises that were usually green but were now a deep, sleepy crimson red from the magic she was subconsciously using.

A grin slashed across your own face, your tummy filled with excitement as you watched the look of confusion on Wanda’s once peaceful face. This was the second moment you were anticipating the most. Her eyebrows contorted in confusion as she stared up at you, her eyes blank with dumb sleepiness at first as her mouth let out heavy breaths. Then she blinked a few times, her eyes falling down over your body and to her own. She saw her cock, glistening with wet, appear halfway with every other bounce you made. She watched it appear as you lifted up, and then disappear again as you slapped yourself down on her lap.

Then she felt it. The tight, wet warmth. The squeezing of your walls around her. The more textured parts around your cervix, how much warmer and tighter you felt the deeper she was. Your lips smushed against the base of her cock when you had her fully inside. The ridges of your cunt massaging her length as you jerked up and down on her, the friction feeling like a white hot flame of pleasure with each stroke.

Her mouth fell open wider with a loud, startled moan, her hands immediately slapping onto your hips and holding them. “Baby!” she exclaimed in surprise, trying to blink the bleariness out of her eyes as you continued fucking yourself on her.

You giggled at her reaction, how she was confused but so turned on and so obviously overwhelmed by the feeling of you milking her cock as soon as she woke up, this being the very first thing her consciousness experienced this rainy morning. You felt her cock swell a little inside you, now that she was awake with her magic.

Her breathing turned into gasps, her eyes squeezing shut as she hissed through her teeth, her hips trembling as you slammed down onto them. “Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck,” she croaked, her voice sleepy and husky and burning hot in your ear.

“I always wanted to wake you up like this,” you whispered, scratching down her chest and over her nipples, causing her to let out the cutest little high-pitched whimper.

“Fuck,” was all she could whisper, holding your hips as they bounced up and down on her length.

You could see the sweat breaking on her forehead, the flush in her cheeks, the way her tummy tightened under your palm. She was getting close.

“D-Did you use prot-protection?” Wanda stammered, her brown hair starting to stick to her temples. She knew the answer. She could feel it, but she needed to ask anyway.

Chuckling, you let out a pornographic moan just to make her shudder and then said, “Nope.”

Wanda’s eyes widened a little in panic. She could already feel herself leaking a little, or maybe it was just your wetness, which was also dripping down her shaft and onto her thighs. Through the slight panic in your eye you could see the desperation, the idea she always dreams about sitting right there in her brain.

You purposefully clenched, and she bit her lip and threw her head back, her body lifting off the bed as she pushed herself into you. You gasped at the depth but used your strength to pin her hips back down to the bed.

“Baby,” she breathed, her eyes barely open. “Baby, get up.” Her voice grew breathy with quickness. “I’m gonna cum. Get up.” She slapped your hip a few times to make you get up, but you kept riding her.

“No,” you purred, leaning down closer to her face and smirking. “You can easily push me off if you want to.” You watched her, struggling to keep her eyes open, her body moving with your bouncing, look up at you with such a strong mix of horror and desire on her face. You waited, but she only continued to struggle beneath you, not making any effort to use her magic or strength to push you off. “So why don’t you?”

Wanda whined, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as if just looking at you was going to make her bust. Her nails dug into your hips as she trembled, looking like the pleasure was turning into pain as you continued to ride her. There was no way she would actively deny you. She could stop herself all she wanted when it was her in control, but if you were going to take it from her, she couldn’t not acquiesce.

“Baby, please,” she murmured through gritted teeth, tears forming in the corners of her eyes from the struggle to keep herself from cumming. You knew she could stop it if she wanted to—you didn’t have her physically wrangled, and even if you did, her magic could put an end to it immediately. “Please, get up, I can’t hold it.”

Grinning, you slam your hand over her throat, and she gasps, choking slightly as you squeeze her throat. “You’re so cute like this,” you whisper, “Begging me to stop. You’re the one who can’t control yourself.”

Tears were falling down her cheeks now. “Please, please,” she begged, her eyes squeezed shut. “Please, baby, I can’t—I can’t hold it—I’m gonna cum, fuck, please…”

“Do it. Give me all your cum,” you hiss, riding her harder to the point where the bedframe slams against the wall. Wanda, choking on the pressure of your hand around her throat, trembled and violently twitched below and inside you as she tried her hardest to hold it. But she was hot to the touch, and so were you, and your cunt felt so good squeezing around her cock, and you were taking complete advantage of her which she found to be so hot, and she hadn’t been able to stop dreaming about breeding you for weeks now, and it was all too much for her to even stop it.

“Fuck, baby, fuck, get off, I’m gonna… fuck, fuck fuck!”

Wanda’s nails dug into your hips as her words turned into incoherent babbles, her mouth falling wide open and her body lifting completely off the bed as she finally lost all control. You tried to watch her as long as you could, but your eyes fluttered closed when finally you felt her cock give one last hard twitch before loads of her burning hot cum went gushing deep inside you, splashing the wall of your cervix and filling your tummy all up.

The feeling made you cum, shivering on top of her and squeezing around her which only prolonged her orgasm even more. Wanda saw flashing images of you pregnant, which had been fueling what she thought was fear for weeks now, but she was learning just now that that fear was pure fetish. She tugged your hips down onto her and pushed herself as deep inside you as possible as she loaded you with her cum, surprising you with her strength as she kept you in a complete hold.

After a few moments, when she had filled you with all she had to give, which was a shocking amount this time because of how long she had held it, and you were limp against her chest, recovering from your own orgasm, Wanda finally relaxed, letting go of your hips and closing her eyes.

“Fuck,” she breathed, panting as sweat rolled down her tear-streaked face. You were quiet for a minute, relishing the feeling of a full tummy of Wanda’s cum, her cock throbbing gently in your cunt. You were so glad she’d enchanted that strap.

Finally, you hummed, looking up at her. She looked dazed and fuzzy-minded, her eyes hooded and cheeks blushing red from embarrassment. She sighed and grinned sheepishly, placing her hands over her face. You smirked. “That was a lot better than cumming on my tits, right?”

Wanda breathed. “Well, good morning to you, too.”

[iwanttoscr3am]

- behind the mask - p.p.

summary: what happens when Y/N Stark attends the same school as Peter, unaware that he is Spider-Man?

➜ pairing: Peter Parker (MCU) x fem! stark! reader

➜ warnings: fluff, KISSING, and mentions of smut BUT no actual smut.

a/n: this is my first fic so, this might not be the best, and the character named ‘Tessa’, she is the blonde girl who first gave her opinion on fmk, I gave her a name because she is considered a background character. (this will be taking place in the homecoming era and, Tony has barely taken peter in)….. ENJOY!

Spiderman, a person you had been very openly fond of, some of your friends had been playing a game you were familiar with in P.E., that game being the infamous yet childish game ‘Fuck, Marry, Kill’. I mean who doesn’t know that game? But you, on the other hand, had been so distracted by thinking about Spiderman. Sure, your dad had worked with the Avengers, which is a big deal, but all you had on your mind was Spiderman. You tried to imagine how he would look under that mask just for a moment. Until.

“Y/n, you still there?” Tessa says shaking your shoulder a little, awakening you out your thoughts “huh?” “we’re playing fuck marry kill, remember?” Tessa slightly furrows her eyebrows at you “of course, I was just a bit distracted, but that’s besides the point go on.” You encouraged Tessa “okay, now see for me it would be fuck Thor, marry iron man-” “GROSS” you cut Tessa off then start fake gagging “MARRY IRON MAN, and kill hulk” Tessa cut back into where she left off probably just to annoy you. “Well what about the Spiderman?” You question.

Little did you know just by saying that, you caught someone eye, but it wasn’t Spiderman, it was instead Peter Parker so it didn’t matter right?“I mean doesn’t it give you guys a thrill to crush on someone not knowing how they look” you explained “you don’t even know what he looks like, what if he’s like seriously burnt” one of Liz’s friends teased “bitch, don't tell me you have a mask kink” Liz asked “I don’t have any kinks, or at least i don't think so, but thats besides the point, come on guys hear me out on this” you claimed “yeah i don’t know if I can hear you out on this one y/n, like you literally get to stay in the avengers compound filled with the most hottest men in our time yet you pick the Spiderman” Tessa tries stating the facts, which don’t appeal to you.

“Okay, but you guys have to take a good look at him, like his abs, phenomenal, his everything simply amazing, and don’t even get me started on what he’s probably hiding down there”you try to persuade your friends.

But are quickly cut off by Tessa “yeah okay, lets change the topic” Tessa insists “uhm, sure totally” you add on. “Lets talk about Spiderman?” You mumbled lowly or so you thought because all of your friends head slowly turn to you “i’m joking” you say putting your hands up in surrender.

﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊

P.E. ended and the hallways were buzzing with that familiar chaos only high school could deliver—the constant slam of lockers, random shouts echoing down the corridors, and the unmistakable squeak of sneakers scraping against the linoleum floor. Somewhere in the distance, a group of juniors was probably arguing over something dumb, like who stole whose pencil or who got the better grade on the last test. It was all part of the soundtrack that made Midtown High feel like both home and a mild form of torture.

You hugged your binder tighter against her chest as you walked side-by-side with MJ. While you scanned the crowd, trying to dodge the usual traffic of rushing students, MJ’s attention was split between keeping pace and absently flipping through the pages of her sketchbook. Her expressions were calm, almost bored, but there was that subtle spark in her eyes that told anyone paying close enough attention she was mentally filing away everything she saw.

“I swear,” you muttered, “if Mr. Harrington makes us sit through another safety video, I’m out. Dropping chemistry and probably school while I’m at it. I’m not even playing.”

MJ didn’t look up from her sketchbook. Her voice was flat but dripping with sarcasm. “You say that like you’ve ever actually followed a safety rule in your life.”

You shot her a pointed look, eyebrows raised. “Okay, rude. That was one time. And it was literally just baking soda—”

MJ cut her off mid-sentence, flipping the page like your explanation wasn’t worth listening to. “You made a whole mini volcano in the lab sink. With fire. Do you remember that?”

Your grin spread wide, proud of the chaos you caused. “Yeah, but it worked, didn’t it? I mean, come on—that was science.”

MJ raised an unimpressed brow. “You also almost set Flash’s hoodie on fire, and I’m not sure whether to be amused or terrified. But hey, whatever floats your boat.”

You laughed. You both approached the Chemistry classroom door, and MJ suddenly slowed, her gaze locking onto the small window set into the door. She let out a heavy sigh like she was about to march into enemy territory.

“Ugh,” MJ muttered, sounding like she was gearing up for battle. “You ever notice Peter’s always gone when something in here goes sideways? Like the second the class turns into a disaster zone, he disappears.”

You shrugged, peering through the glass herself. “He’s probably just lucky. Or maybe he’s really good at ducking explosions.” Your state confused from the sudden topic change.

MJ snorted softly. “Or maybe there’s more to that luck than we realize. What if he’s hiding something?”

You chuckled, bumping MJ’s shoulder playfully. “Okay, conspiracy queen. What’s next? You gonna tell me he’s Spider-Man?”

MJ didn’t smile. Instead, she gave her friend a look so serious it was almost chilling. “…Wouldn’t be the worst theory I’ve heard this week.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “MJ, no. Please. You can’t just say that like it’s normal.”

MJ turned to her, deadpan. “I can and I will.”

You raised her hands in mock surrender. “‘I can and I will’—you, sound like the villain in a YA novel.”

MJ shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Maybe I am.”

﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊

The second the last bell rings, you’re done. Your backpack feels like it gained ten pounds throughout the day, your feet are screaming, and the noise in the hallway is giving you a migraine in slow motion. If one more person yells across the lockers like they’re in a sports arena, you might actually snap.

You make your way through the crowd of students spilling out the front doors of Midtown High, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands as the breeze hits you just right — cool and sharp. The sun’s already dipping behind the taller buildings, throwing long shadows across the sidewalk. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you don’t even need to check the name.

“Outside.”

Of course he is.

When you hit the curb, you spot the black Audi parked across the drop-off lane like it owns the road — smooth, polished, and completely out of place between the yellow school buses and dented family minivans. You can already hear whispers: “Wait, is that Stark’s car?” Someone’s filming it on their phone like this is TMZ.

You pull the door open, climb in, and let the door shut behind you. The smell of leather and overpriced cologne wraps around you instantly — the exact scent that always lingers in your dad’s office, like money and metal and something faintly burning.

Tony Stark is in the driver’s seat, of course. Wearing sunglasses even though the sun’s nearly gone. Classic.

“Well,” he says, glancing over at you with that signature Stark smirk, “you survived another day in teenage purgatory. I’m impressed.”

“Barely,” you mutter, dropping your bag between the seats and pulling on your seatbelt. “Pretty sure the cafeteria pizza tried to kill me.”

He snorts. “Sounds like high school’s still thriving.”

The car glides away from the curb, quiet and smooth like it doesn’t even know what a speed bump is. You lean your head back for just a second, soaking in the silence — until he speaks again, casually, which is never a good sign.

“So listen,” he says, one hand on the wheel, “I’m making a quick stop after I drop you off.”

You crack one eye open. “Where?”

“Queens.”

Your head lifts off the headrest a little. “What’s in Queens?”

He glances at you, all nonchalant like this isn’t about to be weird. “Just a kid I’ve been tracking. Think it’s time to pull him into the big leagues.”

You blink. “Tracking?”

Tony’s mouth twitches like he’s barely holding back a grin. “He’s good. Real good. Quick, clever, solid instincts. I’ve been watching him for a while. He’s young, but the potential’s insane. I’m sure you seen him before, the spider kid swinging around in red spandex’s ”

“Wait,” you say slowly, you instantly knew who your dad was talking about. “You’re going to pick him up?”

He shrugs. “I figure it’s time. Get him to the compound. Suit him up. Introduce him to some real structure.”

You stare. “You’re bringing some random kid to the Avengers compound like it’s bring your child to work day?”

“Please. I’ve run background, surveillance, analytics — I’ve got more data on this kid than I do on most world leaders. I practically know what he’s dreaming about at night.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. “So you’re just gonna pull him out of his home, throw him in a suit, and call it a day?”

“This is easing him in,” he says. “You should’ve seen the onboarding process for Captain America. Glacier, punching, frozen for seventy years. Very dramatic.”

You groan and pull your sleeves over your hands tighter. “You are the most dramatic person I know.”

“Says the girl who once made national news because of a lab experiment.”

“That was not my fault.”

“Never is,” he mutters with a small smile. He flips on the blinker as he turns onto a quieter street. “Anyway. I’ll be home in like twenty. Try not to blow anything up while I go play superhero Uber.”

You glance out the window, his words still bouncing around in your head. Some kid from Queens. Smart. Quick. Around your age.

The thought should be simple, but something about it sticks — like there’s a piece of the puzzle floating just out of reach, maybe it was the person behind the mask you were longing to know.

But you just shake it off.

“Don’t scare him,” you say, grabbing your backpack while stepping out the car.

“No promises,” he says, grinning as he changes lanes.

﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊

After Tony dropped you off, the compound was dead quiet.

You spent the first hour doing absolutely nothing productive. Walked through the hangar. Raided the kitchen. Tried (and failed) to convince Friday to give you the passcode to the prototype lab. It wasn’t that you were bored — okay, you were bored — but the quiet made it worse. The halls echoed. The tech buzzed too loudly. Even the sunlight spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows felt… still.

So, naturally, you ended up on the lounge couch, stretched out with your phone halfway on your face, scrolling through nonsense and pretending you didn’t keep glancing at the front entrance like something interesting might happen.

You’re halfway through your millionth scroll through your phone when the glass doors hiss open.

You don’t sit up right away — just glance toward the noise, expecting an agent, maybe even Tony himself.

But it’s both. Kinda.

Tony’s voice echoes into the room like always. Loud. Unbothered. “Y/N!”

You groan without looking. “You ever heard of texting?”

“Not as dramatic,” he says easily, footsteps getting closer. “Besides, I brought company.”

That makes you sit up.

Trailing behind him is a boy you’ve never seen before. Brown hair, a hoodie that looks like it’s been through a few years too many, backpack hanging off one shoulder. He walks like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to breathe too loud in here.

You blink. He’s definitely your age. Maybe a little younger. Definitely nervous.

He stops cold when he sees you. Like full freeze, mouth halfway open, eyes locked like he wasn’t expecting you to be standing in the middle of this high-tech fortress.

Tony keeps moving, unbothered. “Parker, this is Y/N. Y/N, Parker.”

You tilt your head. “…Parker?” You hung out with Peter time to time because MJ would sit and talk with him and his other friend Ned.

The boy swallows like his throat’s dry. “Uh—yeah. Peter.”

You nod, eyes narrowing slightly. “Right.”

Tony claps his hands. “Cool. Ice broken. I’ll be back after a call or two — maybe make sure he doesn’t blow something up while I’m gone?”

And just like that, he’s gone.

Now it’s just the two of you.

You raise your eyebrows as Peter awkwardly shifts his weight, still standing near the entryway like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to sit.

“This isn’t a job interview y’know?” you ask. “Take a seat next to me.”

He lets out a breathy laugh and steps forward, finally dropping his backpack onto the couch as he sits down. You sit too, but you’re watching him — not in a rude way, just… curious. Trying to figure him out.

He glances around the room, jaw slightly slack. “This place is insane.”

“Alright,” you say, voice calm but pointed, ��cut the crap.”

Peter flinches like you just threw something at him. “What?”

“You were doing sit-ups with Ned,” you start, tone sharp but casual, “on the gym floor, maybe five feet away from the bleachers. You remember that?”

He pauses. Blinks. “Uhh… kinda?”

You lean in slightly. “Mmhmm. And while you were definitely not paying attention to anything except your perfect form or whatever, I happened to say something. Something about Spider-Man.”

His face goes pale immediately. “Oh—uh”

“Yup,” you say.

You don’t break eye contact. Not once.

“You were right there,” you continue, cool and steady. “Right next to the bleachers. Tessa, Liz and I were sitting up top, Flash was being his usual loud self, and Tessa started the game Fuck, Marry, Kill or whatever. And then I said something.”

Peter’s already fidgeting, shifting in his seat like the cushion turned to lava.

“I mean—I was doing sit-ups,” he says, way too fast. “You know—counting. Breathing. Focusing on fitness—”

You raise a brow. “You heard me.”

He opens his mouth, closes it, then just sinks a little deeper into the seat. “…Maybe.”

You narrow your eyes. “So you did hear me say that I wanted to see what he was hiding down there”

Peter immediately starts glitching.

“I—I mean—only kinda! It was loud! People were talking! I wasn’t even trying to listen—Ned made me laugh so I lost count, and then Flash was yelling and then you said that and I was like—wow—uh—I didn’t know if I was supposed to—”

You hold up a hand. “So. Yes?”

Peter covers his face with both hands, muffling a groan. “Oh my God.”

You smirk. “So you’ve been walking around all this time knowing what I said was about you. And just… kept it to yourself?”

He drops his hands slowly. His face is red. His voice is tiny. “I didn’t know what to do with that information y’know?”

“Peter, I wasn’t joking when I was curious on what was down there” you say leaning closer and closer into Peter. “Uhm— no, because I thought you were joking because your a Stark thats like your thing, jokes right?”

“Peter” you say leaning even more closer “what do you think about me?”

“Uhm your pretty, funny and… I really want to kiss you right now” Peter huffs out. Your eyes widen “I mean-” but before Peter can finish your already latched onto his mouth.

Soft, sweet and perfect, the only ways you can describe the kiss. It’s magical. “We can go to my room you know, incase my dad just walks in and goes full dad mode on me” you mumble between the kiss

And all Peter can do is nod, not wanting to break the magical moment.

﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊

Your room’s quiet, dim, and warm. The kind of quiet that makes every breath feel louder than it should. Peter’s hoodie is bunched up slightly under your hands, his lips moving with yours like he’s afraid to stop — like if he pulls away, he’ll lose whatever spell you’ve both fallen into.

You’re straddling his lap on your bed, knees on either side of his thighs, the blanket bunched beneath you. His hands hover at your waist — unsure if they’re allowed to stay, but too captivated to let go.

He kisses you like he means it. Like he’s wanted to. Like it’s been sitting on the edge of his mouth for days.

Then, mid-kiss, he pulls back — just barely. His lips are swollen, his breath uneven, his hands still warm on your sides.

“Wait,” he says, voice low and nervous. “Do you want me to… put the mask on?”

You blink, caught off guard.

He swallows, looking everywhere but your eyes. “I just—I heard what Liz said earlier about a mask kink, and I didn’t know if—if maybe that’s what you actually wanted…”

He trails off.

Your hands stay where they are — fingers curled lightly in the fabric of his hoodie, chest still rising from the kiss. You don’t move for a second. You just look at him.

And then you lean in, brushing your nose against his as your lips ghost over his.

“No,” you whisper.

“It’s what’s behind the mask I want.”

Peter freezes — like his entire brain just hit a system error.

Then, like a wire reconnecting, he exhales shakily. You feel the way his grip tightens slightly at your waist, his lips parting again like he wants to say something but you’re already kissing him again, slow and sure and real.

Not for the suit. Not for the idea.

For him.

a/n: HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! Remember this is my first ever fan fiction so ITS NOT THE BEST😭. But remember If you ever want to request an idea for a fan fiction for me to write, don’t be afraid to ask! I LITERALLY WILL WRITE FOR ANYTHING… anything. OKAY BYE MY ANGELS HAVE A BLESSED DAY💕!!!

[rivalswrites]

Could you do headcannons for poly w Reed Richards X Reader X Susan Storm? I love them both sm <3

Throuple with Reed and Susan

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

A single suggestive comment is made, but it's not serious or goes into detail. Susan is called Sue

Oml I love them both so much, let me be their third 😭🙌 wrote a little more than I thought I would.

Masterlist

Two words. Power. Throuple.

Not only do you three dominate the bedroom, but also the battle field and laboratory. Three big geniuses and strong fighters.

The three of you make the greatest support system, not only for each other but for others around you as well. When either of you are down, the other two know just how to brighten the day, your optimism in any situation spreading to those around and bringing their mood up- intentional or not.

Reed is an airhead at times, but that doesn't stop you and Sue from loving him as he loved you. He's been getting overwhelmed as of lately, the weight of saving the entire multiverse was heavy on his mind more than anyone else. Working day and night while also fighting to keep things at bay, it was a lot for him. You and Sue could see that. So it's more often than not that during free time the two of you would sit in the laboratory and watch over him. Both of you would take turns making sure he ate something and giving him affection to keep him sane.

Sue is strong minded, she believes in what she knows is right and won't back down to anyone who dares say otherwise. The multiversal problem is stressful for her too, but she knows when to ask for help when she feels it's all too much for her. Her favorite activity to relax is a cuddle pile, believe it or not. She'll lay on the bed, and enjoy the pressure of both you and Reed laying directly on top of her; Reed’s arms wrapped tightly around the both of you.

That's often how you guys sleep, on top of Sue and in the arms of Reed. Though the person being dog piled on would alternate on occasion, it was usually Sue.

When Reed can't make it to bed (even with you and Sue taking the time to try and convince him to get some sleep) the both of you find it hard to sleep without his arms around you two. The solution? Burrito blanket. You take the biggest blanket you can and roll around until it's tight and the both of you are giggling face to face in each other's arms.

When Sue can't make it to bed, for whatever reason, you and Reed make it work. He still wraps his arms around you like usual, but he lays on top of you now. He isn't used to not having someone underneath him, so if it isn't Sue it's probably you. Sue’s pillow rests in between you two, it somehow brings comfort to you.

When you can't make it to bed, Sue and Reed suffer, but make due. They lay facing together on your usual spot on the bed, wrapped up in all the blankets and only using your pillows. When you come in later to finally rest, they slightly wake up (like they have some sort of 6th sense) and happily welcome you in between them. No sleeping on anyone needed, just a squished sandwich because the both of them refuse to move off of your side of the bed.

Meals are special, a time uninterrupted by anything. Usually meals are held at the table, plates set and food displayed for anyone to grab as much as they wanted. Conversation flowed easily about every topic, be it work or a hobby, anything brought up is welcomed by the others. But sometimes meals are less formal, usually dinner. It'd be held in your room, sitting on the bed with takeout containers sat on everyone's laps while totally binging some dumb reality show. You all laugh and call the people in the show dumb, and it's just a time where the three of you can fully relax and enjoy time in your spouse's presence.

Reed is more affectionate than Sue, his stretchy body playing a great role in it. He'll wrap his arms around you, Sue, or both (much like during the night), and nuzzle his dumb face into your shoulder. He likes to muzzle, and he does it very often; in bed, as a greeting, as a goodbye, while hugging, any time he has the chance he'll take the opportunity to do it. His beard scratches against your skin or hair, but it doesn't feel as uncomfortable as you'd think.

Sue has taken up Reed's nuzzling habit, having been around him for so long. She doesn't do it as often, and only in private. Usually in solitude when she's down or comforting you/Reed. Sometimes in bed, when it's just her and either of you, she gets embarrassed if it's both of you and doesn't do it. Her hugs are strong and extremely comforting.

Never is one person in the relationship left to do all the work, even when they ask for it. Cooking is never a one person job, nor are chores. It's all split as evenly as possible, and if someone is behind on anything the others are there to help. If you can't find the time or effort to do something, Sue and Reed will do it for you if possible- saying you'll just have to return the favor later (the favor being extra affection or a one on one date).

Speaking of, one on one dates do happen. Both you, Sue, and Reed understand that sometimes there are times where three is a bit much, or that there needs to be separate bonding time. You and Sue will have shopping dates, you and Reed will have walks outside together, Reed and Sue will catch up on a hobby they both share, you've all got something special for the separate dates.

Celebrations are taken very seriously. Anniversaries, birthdays, big milestones, you name it they'll celebrate it. Reed has taken it up on himself to perfect each and every cake flavor to exist, so every celebration has a homemade cake that the three of you have to give to Johnny and Ben the next day to help finish it. Sue on the other hand takes the time with you to plan dinner, be it take out or making a warm meal together.

[callalillywrites]

Further Enhancement Training

Written for @steverogersbingo. B2 - Serum gives even more powers over time.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Steve Rogers Bingo | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader (doctor)

Word Count: 2788

Summary: Steve wasn't sure what was happening. His senses have heightened as had his strength. He's gotten boosts in ways he couldn't define, but he knew exactly who could possibly help him. You.

Warnings: lots of feels; Steve grows closer to you; reciprocal feelings; Steve experiences doubts and insecurities/anxiety with all that's happening; medical mystery

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

****

Your relatively quiet morning came to an abrupt end when JARVIS said, "My apologies, doctor, but your presence is requested in exam room four."

"Who's the patient?"

You checked your appointments for the day and found nothing scheduled during this time.

"It's Captain Rogers. He doesn't have an appointment, but he does seem to be in a bit of distress based on my vitals scan."

Your curiosity piqued at hearing Steve's name.

"I'll be right there. Thank you, JARVIS."

You grabbed up your tablet and strode from your office. Your comfortable shoes barely made any noise against the tiled floor, quickly covering the short distance to the exam rooms. You couldn't be more grateful for that when a muffled groan sounded from the room where Steve waited.

A quick knock on the door was the only warning you gave him.

Pushing the door open and stepping inside, you soon spotted Steve hunched over and trying to clean up a snowy-white floor. Dented containers sat against the wall, their lids crushed beside them.

"What happened?" you asked softly, setting your tablet on the chair near the door.

Steve's shoulders hunched more. He almost seemed to be trying to make himself smaller, which was near impossible with his size. His voice wavered, too, as he finally said, "Accident. I didn't mean to make a mess."

"Does this have anything to do with why you came to see me?"

You kept your voice gentle even as you slowly knelt near the containers. The dents you'd noticed before were far worse than you'd thought. The metal had been gripped and pinched until cracks split and open within the deeper creases. There was no way you'd be able to bend them back out. They'd need to be tossed and replaced with new ones.

Your curiosity surged as you glanced around the room. However, nothing obvious gave you a clue as to what caused such damage.

Well, there was one thing, no, person, who could potentially do this, but that wasn't like him at all. No, Steve usually went out of his way to be as gentle as he could with others' property.

You caught his single nod and the cough that tried to hide his affirmative answer.

Watching his hands, you caught the way his fingers tried to grip the cotton swabs and cotton balls. They never got very far though as each one either splintered or disintegrated. If you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, you wouldn't have believed it.

"How long has this been happening?"

"A couple of days," he said so low that you struggled to hear the words.

You nodded. "Anything happen on your last mission? Touch anything? Maybe it didn't seem odd at the time, but it's now giving you some pause?"

His head shook once, but he froze as if considering your words. It took him several moments before he finally said, "Dust fell on me when I opened an old door. It covered the entire room."

"Okay, that's good. You're doing so good," you gently set your hands over his, stilling them from attempting to pick up anything else from the already broken pile between you. He tensed under your touch, but he didn't shy away from it. You'd been almost worried he would, so it was with some relief that he actually seemed to relax after another moment. When you were certain you had his attention, you asked, "Anyone else go in the room with you?"

This time, his head shook without hesitation.

"Okay, so we know this is limited to you then. That's very good. Anything else I should know about before we do some tests?"

Steve nodded after a moment.

Over the next minute or so, he went on to describe how everything he sees is sharper than before. His hearing also picks up more noises than it did before. Everything he eats has a slightly different taste as if he can pick up all the flavors and additives compared to before. He can also tell when something isn't quite consistent, too, and has been turning his appetite a bit. While he can't speak to his healing factors, he does know his speed has also greatly increased. To your surprise, he recounts the unofficial race he and Pietro had just yesterday. He'd not only kept up with Quicksilver, but he'd actually tied with the speedster superhero.

"I haven't touched anyone in two days," he admitted softly.

Tilting your head, you studied what you could of his face. Sadness seemed to ooze out of him as he continued, "The last person I shook hands with, I heard minute cracks. He didn't scream, but his hand started swelling so fast. We took him to the ER and they confirmed it. I fractured his hand with a simple handshake."

His hands shook under yours before he clenched them until his knuckles turned white. You could hear the soft pops within the joints of his fingers from how tightly he clenched them.

Running your own over his, you kept your voice soft, calm as you said, "We're going to figure this out together. Even if this turns out to be permanent, we're not going to stop until you trust yourself around others again."

That brought Steve's gaze colliding with yours.

You offered him your most comforting smile. "Come on, let's get started."

*****

Over the next week or so, you learned the dust he'd discussed had been merely dust. Nothing nefarious lingered within its particles, which was quite the relief. Getting your hands on any type of antidote from Hydra always proved more difficult than it should be.

Further tests revealed the reason for his increased senses and their further enhancement came from his original serum. It had boosted itself for some reason that continued to elude you and the others who worked his case. After trying to pinpoint the cause and finding no reasons, you caught the resignation on Steve's features. It broke your heart to see him as down as he was.

That'd been enough to switch your focus to helping him cope.

You took it slow with him.

Ear plugs for the noisier areas of the compound. Keeping away from textures and flavors that bothered him, especially certain foods. More tests on his new sprinting capabilities as well as his healing factor. That one hadn't really been on your list, but he'd missed a stump during a run and gashed his knee up pretty good. Before you could do much for it, his healing factor had already closed up the wound and left the smallest of nicks on his skin.

Focusing his energy on things he could control became the ultimate goal.

Even with all the progress you'd made with him in these regards, there was one area where he continued to struggle—touch.

He'd made great strides in controlling his new strength. Within the first few days, he figured out how little pressure he needed to use for a variety of objects, including delicate glass. He could eat a meal without worrying bending the silverware or shattering the glasses or dishes they used. He could even take on some of his favorite downtime activities again.

The smile he'd given you as he finally managed a sketch had you breaking your professionalism and hugging him.

He didn't reciprocate though.

That was his sticking point.

Others could touch him, but he refused to touch others.

Longing etched over his features every time he denied himself this, but then steeled resolve would wash over him. It never quite erased the longing though, and by the end of the second week, you were tired of seeing him deny himself any longer.

"Alright, soldier, hands palm up and extended out," you ordered.

He readily did as you asked.

You smiled at his eagerness.

He'd come to trust you over the last two weeks. Probably more so than he had in the past few months since you joined the medical team at the compound. You had no intention of betraying that trust as you set your own hands on top of his. Letting them rest there a moment to let him adjust to your touch again. The more he relaxed, the more you hoped this wouldn't undo all your hard work.

How could you know though if you didn't push as you were about to?

With him fully at ease, you allowed your thumbs to wander over his, grazing his skin lightly in linear motions. Back and forth until he relaxed further under your watchful gaze.

Until you stopped.

His gaze met yours with a lifted brow even as his lips thinned into a thin line when you said, "Your turn. Same motions, soldier, soft and smooth."

He shook his head. "No, I could hurt you."

"I doubt you will. Just do as I did, and it'll be fine."

His mouth opened to argue, but you shushed him, your voice dropping, "Trust me, Steve. Please, try for me."

"If I hurt you—"

"You won't," you assured, speaking over him.

His thumbs twitched, just barely brushing against your hands. The war within himself took several moments before he finally blew out a harsh breath. His gaze focused sharply on his hands as though daring them to defy him and his efforts to be as gentle as he could.

The first touch barely grazed against your skin.

The second touch lasted a moment longer, but he quickly withdrew. His brows pinched together even as he blew out another breath.

The third time, he allowed his thumb to skim across yours before he retreated just as quickly as before.

Grinning, you couldn't help saying, "You're doing great, soldier. Try again. One more time."

He returned your grin, feeling much more at ease than he looked just moments ago.

This final time, he allowed his thumb to skim across your skin a few times, only retreating when you twitched because it sent an electric zing through you. A horrified expression wiped away his smile as his hands fell to his lap where they clenched into fists again.

"I'm—"

Your lips pressed against his cheek, breaking all levels of professionalism. That didn't matter as much to you in the moment as his comfort did. You needed him to not finish his statement while also shocking him enough to hear as you murmured, "You didn't hurt me, soldier. That wasn't a pain response."

Deep red had flushed his cheeks at your unprofessional kiss, but his gaze met yours with pure disbelief.

"You didn't hurt me, Steve; you merely found a ticklish spot even I didn't know about."

"I did?"

"You did," you assured softly. "If anyone should apologize, it's me. I acted too familiarly with you, and for that, I am sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you even if it worked to distract you."

"I, uh, I didn't mind."

*****

While that session had ended on a slightly awkward note, Steve continued to see you and grew more comfortable with his newer, more enhanced abilities. His progress grew in such a way that you found yourself unable to deny his time to graduate had come. It was time for him to rejoin the others on the Avengers team and resume his duties as Captain America.

You'd even made him a small cake to celebrate all he'd accomplished over the past few weeks.

His hearing had come to accept and tune out the excess noises. His taste had shifted to find the right textures and flavors once more. His eyesight could focus on what it needed while continuing to process and pick up information he could later access better than before. His healing factor continued to surprise you with how much quicker it worked. So did his speed, now surpassing Pietro on the track a bit more each day.

The last hurdle of touch had even been surpassed.

He could touch others again without fear of hurting them. You'd seen to that over these past few weeks, working up from those simple thumb touches to full-on hugs. This included the bear hugs he and Bucky seemed to favor.

You doubted you'd ever forget the look of pure joy that spread over his features when he bested both Thor and Hulk in an arm wrestle. The other two had been flabbergasted, but Steve hadn't rubbed their noses in it, either. He played the good sport he always was and thanked them for helping him, too.

The simple fact was you were going to miss seeing him.

After you'd let your professionalism drop, the two of you had gotten closer. At least, it seemed like you had. Steve proved a harder read on the situation, keeping his thoughts to himself.

"My apologies once more, doctor, but you have a patient waiting for you in exam room four. Captain Rogers seems quite piqued about something and has been pacing in there for the last ten minutes."

"Why wasn't I notified of his presence sooner?"

"He said he required a moment, but then, he seemed to grow more and more agitated."

Fearing a relapse of all your progress, you dashed from your office towards the exam rooms. As much as you'd miss his company, you hadn't wanted to see him relapse after all his hard work. It would only disappoint him, and you'd blame yourself. Surely, you hadn't missed something these past few weeks you'd been working with him.

You tapped a hasty knock while shoving the door open this time.

Unprepared for the bulk that was Steve to be on the other side, you slammed into him and would've landed hard on your bottom without his faster reflexes. His hands gently cradled your arms and kept you upright.

"Hey, where's the fire?" he asked, his voice coming off teasing despite the slight waver you heard once more.

The déjà vu was almost too much.

Your gaze raised to meet his and found yourself getting lost in his deep blue eyes with their smallest hint of green. Something you hadn't noticed until these past few weeks.

"You okay?"

You nodded, stepping back and straightening your clothing. Now was the perfect time to regain the professionalism you'd dropped the past few weeks. Maybe then, you'd feel easier about not seeing Steve around so often. "I should be asking you that. JARVIS said you were exhibiting anxiety. Any new symptoms?"

He shook his head.

"Are you uncertain about any of the progress you've made? You shouldn't be. I've never had a patient quite so determined as you to get better or follow my instructions so readily. Honestly, I dream of someone like you."

His head tilted at your words, a possibly hopeful but shy smile gracing his features. "You do?"

Realizing the implications of your words, you squeaked even as you nodded, refusing to lie to him. It wasn't your fault that you also maybe dreamed about him a time or two, not as a patient. How could you not? Not only was Steve easy on the eyes, but you'd gotten the chance to know him. You'd seen the sweet and the sass that make up who he was.

Your response seemed enough to shore up whatever brought Steve back to your exam room. The same steely determination you've seen in him since you two began working together reappeared though his charming smile stayed in place.

"I, uh, I have a mission in a few days, but I'm free tonight." He took a moment to swallow while also taking your hand in one of his. The gentle hold was proof that he'd figured out his new strength and wielded it as you knew he would. "I was hoping you might let me take you out to dinner. Somewhere nice but quiet. A place that'll properly show my appreciation for all the kindness and patience you've shown me."

"Are you asking me as your doctor or…"

You let the words deliberately drop off, hoping he might fill them in. The need for reassurance that you both felt nearly overwhelmed you. The last thing you needed at that moment was the realization that you'd broken all professionalism and made everything up in your head.

He didn't disappoint as he finally said, "As a friend who I hope might become so much more."

You couldn't keep the grin from emerging on your features.

His words had been close enough to what you'd hoped to hear.

There was no hesitation as you said, "Then, I accept your offer."

It was a small miracle you didn't swoon when he lifted your hand and pressed the softest of kisses to your knuckles.

"I'll let you get back to work, but I'll see you tonight."

"Looking forward to it, soldier."

[stillinraccooncity]

❝ When you've been fighting for it all your life. You've been struggling to make things right, that's how a superhero learns to fly. Every day, every hour, turn the pain into power. ❞

[j-eryewrites]

Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

Chapter Six of Under Pressure: A Thunderbolts Fic

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Previous | Next

Word Count: ~6.8k

Warnings: Mentions of death and violence, THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS?, mentions of childhood trauma, language, mentions of Pepper and Morgan, Bucky acts like a dad/concerned uncle(let me know if I missed anything)

Author's Note: Went on a trip for my birthday and finally got back, so sorry for the late chapter. I'm hoping to at least post once a week. Anyways, this chapter is a fun one, and the beginning to the speculating (basically, I get to make stuff up, so yay!) The team gets food and finds a place to crash for the day, more Bob and Reader moments...I hope you enjoy!

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The restaurant was practically empty besides the seven of you in the wake of the Void incident, yet if you were to close your eyes, it’d be just as loud as rush hour, when everyone trickled in from their lunch breaks with the time clicking until they returned to work. Beside you, Alexei was chewing. His mouth was wide open, letting more food fall onto his plate than what was actually swallowed down his throat. He was chipper, even though you all had risked your lives, nearly died numerous times, and had been up for more days than were healthy. Still, he loudly jumped from conversational topics, starting with his disdain for the Avengers title, saying he liked the Thunderbolts more, then somehow ended up telling everyone the story of an after-mission party in Russia.  You were glad there were no children in the restaurant due to the lewd direction Alexei’s story was taking. You were hardly paying attention, instead watching Walker’s face contort as he tried to swallow his next bite of food. Watching, you tried to hide your snicker as John gagged on a bite of his food at Alexei’s next words. 

“Oh no,” Yelena groaned into her hand. Her fingers dragged down her face, elongating her embarrassed expression. “No, no, Alexei,” she called out. “No one wants to hear about that as we eat.” 

“Yelena,” Alexei exasperated, throwing his arms up into the air, shooting bits of food at all of you. Flinching, you narrowly missed the chunk of lettuce coming your way. “It’s natural. You feel the glory of the battle and want to share success with others. Huh?” His eyes widened with enthusiasm, seeking agreement from the men at the table. Walker shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure whether to encourage the man. Meanwhile, Bucky waved his hand dismissing the notion entirely, which left Bob; And Alexei singled out poor Bob. With a clap, Alexei patted Bob’s back, wiggling his brows. In turn, Bob arched his back, wriggling out of Alexei’s hold. “You understand Bob. I see in eyes.”

“I-uh-I don’t-sure?” Bob managed to stammer out. His eyes fell on you for an escape, to which you simply shrugged, not wanting to be a part of this. An action Alexei didn’t miss.

“See!” Alexei stood up triumphantly. A smirk appeared on his face in a not-so-whisper, and he leaned into Bob. “Let me guess, you share success today with–” 

“Dad!” Yelena pleaded. “Can you stop?” Alexei’s face fell at his daughter's words. 

“I thought it was never going to end,” Ava muttered under her breath before taking a sip of her soda. 

“Tell me about it,” Walker added. 

By now, there was no sign of any staff members. You didn’t blame them for making themselves scarce. However, it didn’t take long for Alexei to bring up another story to share with the others. This time, more PG-friendly. 

“Pst,” Bucky called out to you, stopping you mid-bite. He nudged his head, asking you to follow him. If the others noticed you two leaving, they made no note of it. Walking to the corner by the bathrooms, Bucky stopped you with a firm expression printed onto his face. You knew that look well. It’s one that you've had a plethora of experience with, seeing it from Tony, occasionally Steve, and the others. You cleared your throat, crossing your arms over your chest to prepare for the upcoming reprimand. “Now that we have a chance, care to explain your involvement with the…,” Bucky motioned to the others at the table, “Bob ordeal?” 

“Bucky–” you sighed, but he cut you off with a wave of his hand. 

“You said you were going to get evidence–”

“Which I did,” you interjected. Bucky’s eyebrows raised at your words. “Look, can we talk about this later, cause I’m-”

“No, Y/N. We won’t talk about this later. You know why?” His hands were resting at his hips now. You rolled your eyes at him, glancing back at the table as Yelena and Ava snickered at Walker choking on his food again. Bucky cleared his throat, awaiting an answer from you. You grumbled a “why,” allowing Bucky to continue his scolding. 

“Because you nearly got yourself killed, and from what the others told me, at least three times. One of which I witnessed.” You winced as each word left Bucky’s mouth. You understood his concern, but you were no longer the kid who ran and hid with Steve and Bucky all those years ago. You were an adult and had been for a while. 

“Look, I get you’re concerned–” 

“That puts it lightly.” 

“Bucky, I’m not a child anymore!” You yelled, your voice carried over to the now-silent table. You tried to ignore how their eyes bore into the back of your head, their ears itching to hear more of Bucky’s and your private conversation. “I–I can handle myself.” Your eyes finally met his icy blue ones. “I got the evidence for the trial. End of Story.” 

Bucky opened his mouth to refute your words, but you shut him down. “Look, I’m sorry.” Bucky’s eyes lowered. “I got a live location and message from FRIDAY, only for it to disappear with no updates. Then you go and sacrifice yourself to buy us time to get out. So yeah, I’m concerned.” Guilt floods your system. Gently, you place your hand on Bucky’s arm. He reciprocated, lightly patting your hand in return. 

“So?” You asked, breaking the silence. “What’s next? With the impeachment, I mean.” 

You watched as Bucky’s face scrunched up. His jaw clenched tightly. “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” you tensed. You shook your head. This isn’t how the story was supposed to go. You got the evidence, and now Valentina gets sent to jail—end of Story. “I sent you the evidence. We–” You pointed back to the table at the others. Yelena waved to you before turning back to her food. “Can testify against her. Hell, maybe even put her in federal prison for attempted murder.” 

“Yeah?” Bucky raised his brows at your words, his shoulders tensing by his ears. “Well, she just tied all of us to her.” You felt every drop of blood in your body go cold. The New Avengers, the live broadcast. Hell, she got you and Bucky on screen as well. You two hadn’t said anything, but your presence was enough. “Doesn’t help, she wiped O.X.E’s slate clean. The investigation came up clear. Nothing.” 

“Fuck,” you cursed, fingers reaching into your hair to clench tightly at the strands. “She’s gonna get away scotch free…and we’ll be screwed if we try anything against her.” You fought the urge to kick the wall beside you, but your willpower wasn’t as strong as you thought it had been. Your foot kicked out. The wall thudded, and a framed photo fell to the ground, shattering. 

A chorus of ooo’s erupted from behind you. 

“Someone’s in trouble,” Yelena teased. 

Your ears flushed as you bent down to pick up the frame. Dusting off the photo, you took a step towards the counter, firstly to apologize, but then to clean up the mess you had made, but something stopped you. It had taken you a moment to recognize the faces in the photo, but you’d know them anywhere. The picture was dated to the Battle of New York and was signed by each member of the original Avengers. Your finger traced over their faces, stopping on your Father’s. 

“You’re more like him than you think,” Bucky whispered into your ear. You whirled around to face him again, a chuckle escaping your mouth. 

“Yeah, sure, you’re just saying that,” you disagreed. The frame dropped to your side. “He was a hero. Sometimes a bit of an overprotective asshole, but a hero…” You trailed off. “Nothing like me.” Your eyes trailed back to the table, unconsciously meeting Bob’s. He offered you a small smile before turning his gaze back onto Walker, who now took the opportunity to share one of his war stories. “I just don’t want to fail them. It’s funny,” you chuckled. “We’re a bunch of messed-up, traumatized people who were alone but found each other and made this,’ you whirled your hands trying to conjure up the word. “This team…it just,” You grew quiet. “Reminds me of them–The Avengers.”

Bucky took a step closer to you. His hand came to gently pry the photo from your hands. He held it up to you. The photo mirrored the team sitting at the table. Your eyes widened at what he was trying to get. You quickly snatched the frame back from him, shaking your head. “No. Bucky, no–”

“I think we have a shot–” 

“Then Valentina would fuck us over. Remember? We’re chained to her.” 

“Then become strong enough to steal those chains out from under her,” Bucky enunciated. You frowned. “There’s a reason Valentina wanted you to help her little PR stunt with the Sentry. You’re the daughter of the Avengers. Your name holds power. It’s time you took it back and made them proud.” 

You shook your head, stepping into the shadows of the corner, your shoulders caving in on themselves. “But–but what if I fail? What if I just give Valentina more power and–” 

“Then we’ll be beside you. Together as a team.” Bucky had never seemed more determined. A light flickered in his eyes at the proposal. You bit your lip, thinking it over and over. Your eyes darted back and forth between the others and Bucky. 

“Okay.”

A thunderous chorus of “Yes!” filled the air. It came from Alexei, who had quite the set of lungs on him. As his yell filled the air, you made a note to leave a large tip once you all left. You winced, noticing all of the others had been listening the whole time. 

“Were you…” You trailed off, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“Listening to the entirety of your conversation? Yes.” Ava blatantly said.  “You’re not very subtle.”

“But it’s fine,” Yelena finished. “As Bucky said, we’re a team now. No use in fighting Valentina alone.”

“Hate to cut the conversation short…” Walker added. You all turned to look at him as a humongous yawn crept out of his mouth. Like wildfire, the yawn ignited a chain reaction in all of you; Your minds remembering your lack of sleep. “But can we talk about the whole team and Beat-Valentina's operation once we’ve, you know, slept?” 

Nods and murmurs of agreement echoed from all of you, but an important question hung in the air. Bob was the first to voice it. 

“Uh, where exactly are we supposed to sleep?” He raised his hand in the air like a student asking permission from a teacher.

“That’s a great fucking question, Bob,” Walker announced. His eyes fell on you. 

It took you a moment to realize, they were all looking at you. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“You do live in New York—“ Bucky added. You shot him a glare. The New Avengers were sleeping at your place for the night.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

As you all lined up to enter your home, you wished you could turn invisible from all the looks your neighbors were giving you. You could only imagine how they felt: seven bloodied and beaten up, heavily armoured people, many of whom held terrifying demeanours, didn’t fit the prim and polished look the wealthy neighbor standardized. You offered tight-lipped smiles, occasionally acknowledging your neighbors until everyone had shuffled in. 

You took in a sharp inhale of breath, scooting behind those still removing their shoes in the entryway, only exhaling when you got to the open living room. 

“Now this…is home,” Alexei complimented, glancing around your house. His eyes fell on the various photos lining the walls. Some of which brought a smile to his face.

“Thanks,” you muttered, unsure of how to respond to the wave of visitors in your home. You weren’t one to have guests, even though you had numerous guest rooms and an air mattress in case anyone did come to visit. There had been some talks long ago for Pepper and Morgan to come visit, but they didn’t amount to much. Other than the occasional dinner with Bucky, Sam, and Clint, no one really stopped by. 

“Shit your rich,” Ava noted, taking in the sight of your high end home decor. Walker laughed at Ava’s comment. His eyes lit up as he patrolled the room as if he were picturing himself living in a place like this.  

Meanwhile, Yelena had made herself at home, plopping onto your couch. With a loud groan, she sank into the cushions. The grim and dirt from her armour rubbed into the fabric of the couch, but you didn’t care. “I’m stealing this couch, Stark.” You raised your brows at her comment. Part of you wouldn’t be surprised if you woke up one day to find it gone. 

The only one who didn’t welcome them into your home was Bob. He stood by the entrance of the living room, lingering on the edge. You turned to him, opening your arms. “You’re welcome to make your home, Bob.” 

“Oh, uh–” his eyes widened, taking a small step into the living room. Immediately, his eyes peered around the room in awe of it all. Glancing at the books and DVDs that lined the shelves along the far wall, you watched him stop and read all the titles. Occasionally, his hand would reach up to his mouth to wipe away something, his eyes finding something interesting on the ceiling. 

Clearing your throat, you began to speak. “The kitchen is just past the living room.” Everyone’s eyes followed past your finger into the kitchen. “Feel free to help yourself to food. Uh–” you rubbed your temples, feeling a headache forming. “Two bathrooms, one on each floor. There’s showers if anyone, you know–Bedrooms, I got two guest rooms, and can inflate an air mattress in the office if–”

“I call the couch!” Yelena calls out, already draping an arm across her face. Soon after, the others began to stake claims to which bed they’d sleep in. Alexei took the guest room with the bunk bed, and Walker begrudgingly volunteered to take the bottom bunk. Ava snatched the other guest room, leaving Bucky the air mattress in the office. Once they all dispersed to their respective rooms to rest, clean up, etc., you realized Bob was still standing, with nowhere to go. 

“You can take the couch with me, Bob,” Yelena murmured. Her voice was full of sleep. She was too tired to see the wave of discomfort Bob had to share the couch with her. 

“There’s also my room,” You offered. Bob’s eyes squinted at you. 

“Oh-uh, no, I can’t–”

“It’s fine, I’m not even tired,” you insisted. It was a lie, but Bob didn’t need to know that. 

“I-uh, don’t sleep,” Bob shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head. “I mean–I have a hard time sleeping in places I’m not familiar with…sorry.” 

“I get it,” you explained, trying not to overwhelm him. After all, his memory was still foggy from before. You weren’t sure he even remembered how he got to New York in the first place. “Do you want to take a shower or–” 

“Nah,” Bob assured you. His eyes moved back over to the books on your shelf. His feet waddled closer to get a better look. 

“You can read one if you’d like.” Bob looked back at you, and you felt another dismissal coming. “I’m serious. Most of ‘em are children’s and young adult novels. It was all I could read for the longest time…still, they’re a fun read.” You moved to stand beside him, reaching for one of your favorite novels. “This one is really good. Called The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse. Granted, it's a bunch of pictures and poems, but I loved it.” You smile at him, offering the book as a passage of time. Bob glances down at your hands, gently taking the book from you. Hugging it to his chest as if he were afraid of dropping it, he thanked you before turning away to take a seat on a nearby lounge chair. 

Steps descending the stairs pulled you away from the bookcase. Walker shuffled down, approaching you with a question on his lips. “Got any extra toothbrushes and a change of clothes?” He asked you quietly, eyes narrowing on Yelena’s passed-out figure. 

Your eyes widened. You hadn’t thought of that when offering your place for them to stay and sleep. You’d have clothes for the other women, but Bob, Alexei, Bucky, and John? Maybe you had something of your dad’s, but you weren’t inclined to give those shirts away just yet. “Oh, no. I can run out and grab something from the store, if you’d like.” 

“All good,” Walker began to apologize. “I was just–”

“I’m sure the others want to change and get clean as well.” Walker was still trying to refute your generosity. “I don’t mind,” you insisted. Reluctantly, he nodded, stepping back towards the stairs as he thanked you. 

Without wasting a moment, you had grabbed your keys and were on your way out the door when a passerby’s judgmental stare caught you. Groaning, you closed your front door and shuffled up the stairs. You snuck into your room, snatching a pair of clothes heading to the bathroom to wash up. 

Your skin stung as you pulled up the shirt. All the cuts and scabs that now littered your body had practically sewn the fabric to your skin. Peeling it off, you fought back a wave of wincing. God, it hurt. With all the adrenaline drained from your body, the entirety of the situation hit you like a train. Luckily, the steamy hot strings of water pumping from the shower soothed your aches. You peered down at your feet, observing all the dirt, blood, and grime taint the water a dark brown. The water swirled at your toes, pooling at the drain before slipping out of sight. Blinking, you wipe some droplets of water from your face, reaching for your hair wash. You had a meticulous and efficient way of bathing: tackling your hair first, then your face, and your body. It didn’t feel right to wash yourself in any other way. If you washed your hair last, there’d be lingering remnants of shampoo and conditioner on your back, so then what was the point of washing your body before? Clint had given you some strange looks as you explained your routine to Nat one day. Granted, he probably still used three-in-one body wash for all his needs, but even so, it worked for you. 

Rinsing the remaining bubbles of soap from your skin, you turned off the shower, stepping out to dry yourself. As if on cue, your phone screen lit up. Snatching it from its place on the counter, you answered the call. It was from Pepper, your mom. 

“Hey,” you answered, using the towel to dry your hair, squeezing the water out. You had an inkling as to what she was calling about. Pepper never really called you for anything unless it was important or unless Morgan wanted to chat. You doubted Morgan was there since it was the middle of the day during the week, which meant school. 

“So,” Pepper began. You could hear the tension in her voice from a mile away. “I saw an interesting news clip not long ago. Something about the New Avengers?” You sighed. “Care to explain?” 

With a click of a bottle cap, you began to put on your skin care. Your skin let out a breath of relief, feeling the soothing and healing products coat it. “It's…a long story, Mom.” 

“Well, I’d like to hear it, and don’t tell me you’re busy. I can see you are at your house.” You bit your lip, wincing. You had forgotten she had your phone’s location. Something about keeping track of the family. You didn’t blame her, knowing the shenanigans you and Dad had gotten up to. 

You let out a huff of air. Your hands came to rest on the cool surface of the sink. You took in your appearance before taking a deep breath to explain everything to Pepper. “You remember I was helping with the impeachment trial?” You asked her. Pepper hummed. “Well, we needed evidence, not just…hearsay. So I went to get evidence. One thing led to the other, ended up saving New York City with a bunch of…” Friends? Superhumans? You couldn’t think of a good word, instead opting to just skip it over. Pepper would understand you anyway. “Valentina saw her opportunity and used it. Now the impeachment will lead to nowhere and…” You couldn’t help the audible sigh that escaped your mouth. 

“And you’re just going to let her get away with it?” Pepper asked you. 

You shook your head, realizing Pepper could see it. “No, I just–How did Dad do it?” 

“Do what, Y/N?” 

“Gain the favor of the public? Lead? Make a successful team in the first place? Do it all?” You took in a shaky breath, reaching for your clothes to offer some distraction from it all. “ Bucky said I should make him proud, do what they would want me to do, but–I don’t know what I’m doing and if I shou–”

“You already do make him proud,” Pepper interjected. “You always did.” You scoffed at that. 

“Sure, it’s not like I went off and went rogue after…” Shame swallowed up your next words. “I failed him. Thought I was doing something good, and it just turns out I was hurting more than helping.” 

“You were young, still a kid–”

“And that makes what I did okay? Pepper, I killed people with my–I hurt Morgan and Dad.”

“That’s not your fault. You know the mind stone did something to your powers–”

“Still.” You tensed. “It’s been years, and I should be able to control it, to touch–” Immediately, you opened the bottom bathroom drawer, pulling out a pair of gloves, pulling them over your hands and fingers. 

After a pause on Pepper’s end, she began to speak. “You want to know how he did it?”

“Y-yeah,” your voice broke. 

“He played the part and worked the people, never stopping for a moment to achieve his goal and protect his family. To protect you. It’s hard, Y/N. It took its toll on him, but there’s a reason the name Avengers is something revered and respected.” After a moment, she continued. “If anyone can do it, Y/N, it’s you.” Pepper’s voice was gentle and reassuring. Like how a warm blanket and cup of cocoa snap you out of the trance of a raging stormy night, Pepper pulled you out, grounding you. 

“I gotta go pick up Morgan from school in a little bit–”

“Oh, I can let you go,” You sputtered. 

“She misses you. I do too. It’s been a while since you came to visit. Maybe you can drive out here sometime soon? We can talk about this more–” You thought about it. The cabin by the lake. The warm walls that comforted you and held the remaining pieces of your family. It was a place where only rest and peace were found–the place where you said your final farewell to your Dad. Maybe a break would do you good. A place for you to find your bearings before tackling Valentina off her pedestal.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you interjected, cutting Pepper off. She let out a soft chuckle. 

“We’ll talk later.”

“Tell Morgan I said hi,” you managed to say before the call ended.

 Slowly, your eyes found your reflection in the mirror. You looked normal now. Fresh cuts still covered the skin of your cheeks, but you were clean and fresh. You took in a deep breath, muttering an affirmation to yourself. Cracking open the door, steam from the bathroom snuck out, clouding the air. You trekked down the stairs, snatching your wallet and keys from the bowl on your hallway cabinet. As you slipped on your shoes, a pair of footsteps crept up behind you.  

“Uh–mind if I join you?” Bob asked, pulling at the end of his sleeve. “I can carry the bags, you know, help.” 

You turned to look at him, smiling, “Book too boring for you?” 

Bob shook his head. “Finished it actually.” Your eyes widened. Just how long had you been in the shower? “It was really good,” Bob added. 

Shaking yourself out of your daze, you nodded, opening the door wide enough for the two of you. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind the company–or the help.” Bob smiled back at you, slipping on his shoes before shuffling out the front door behind you. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

80s music blasted from the rickety speakers in the grocery store ceiling. It always played during the slow business hours. Where no one really was in the store besides those who no longer had better things to occupy their days, such as work, family, school, and more. It seemed you and Bob fell under that category with the numerous elderly folk roaming the long aisles searching for the best deal for their buck. 

Bob strolled the aisles beside you, pushing the cart. He quietly hummed along to the current song playing from above as you perused the shelves. You already had three tubes of toothpaste chucked into the metal cart, each a different brand of a minty fresh variety. You were unsure if any of your house guests had a preference or not. You squinted at another brand, which advertised as eco-friendly. You raised your brow, shrugged, and placed it in the cart with the others. Better safe than sorry, you figured. Next came the toothbrushes. You never understood the reason for all the different brands and varieties. They all did the same thing, yet it seemed there was a meaningful difference in the shape and design of the toothbrush bristles. You frowned, trying to figure out the difference between the Ultra Soft Bamboo brushes and the Micro Nano toothbrushes. Sighing, you placed both back on the racks, reaching for the cheap three-dollar ones. They came in a pack of 12. Each with different cartoon characters plastered onto them. Granted, they were marketed towards children, but you were sure they’d care less. 

Watching you place the toothbrushes into the cart, Bob let out a chuckle. You cocked your head at him as he wiped his mouth. “You put four different toothpastes in the cart and just a basic bag  of toothbrushes.” 

You glanced down at the cart, noticing the irony. A soft shrug left your shoulders. “I don’t know, it’s just people have different tastes and tooth brushes just…” You snickered, trailing off, not really having a reason for the diverse set of toothpastes. “Oh well, do you want to add anything?” 

Bob shook his head. “Nah, I don’t have a preference. Just whatever works, I guess.” 

“Same,” you agreed. “Never can understand the difference between all of these. Just too–”

“Overwhelming?” Bob finished. 

You nodded. “Yeah, overwhelming. I get that we don’t want products to be in a monopoly, but why are there all these differences? Like, what even is the difference between…” You grabbed two random toothbrushes off the shelf. “...Essential Fresh Clean or Advance Clean, like they both clean, or at least I hope they do.” 

All of a sudden, Bob let out a loud snort as waves of laughter rippled from his chest. You watched a large smile etch itself onto his face, as his nose scrunched up, hands doing the same, tucking in close to his body. You couldn’t help but soften at the sight. He seemed so carefree and so full of light. Like a lighthouse on a stormy night, his eyes lit up, shining their way through the dark. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by them. 

“S-sorry,” Bob managed to mutter in between his chortles. “It’s just–you’re so funny. You know that?” 

You felt your ears growing hot from all the attention. Shyly, you glanced away, looking anywhere but at Bob. “Yeah, yeah. How ‘bout we move on from toothbrushes and onto the other things.” You said, reaching into your pocket to retrieve the list you had made. Your eyes scanned the different clothing sizes, and you had managed to figure out with the help of a very tired Yelena and a very intelligent AI. Who knew FRIDAY could deduce the approximate clothing size of everyone? With a click, you crossed out the toothbrush and paste section. “How’s your fashion sense, Bob?” You asked. 

Bob shrugged before glancing down at his clothes. “Not great. I mean, I just wear…well, whatever.” 

“Good enough for me,” You muttered, before telling him John’s, Bucky’s, and Alexei’s clothing sizes. 

You figured you two could divide and conquer, leaving him to tackle the men’s section while you trekked through the women’s. As you perused each aisle of clothing racks, selecting items that Yelena or Ava might like, you navigated the sizing like a pro. While just as confusing as an ancient grimoire written before time itself existed, you took to understanding the language of women’s sizing well. Something you had Natasha to thank for. Meanwhile, the men’s sizing was too simple. It made you feel like there was some hidden agenda. You didn’t trust it. After you had grabbed a few shirts and pants in the sizes of your female house guests, you paused. Did Ava even wear anything besides her suit? You remember her mentioning something about how it helped her hold her body together in the physical realm. You glanced down at the clothes you got for her, contemplating whether you should put them back or not. Instead, you chose to leave them. She wore them if she wanted to, and if not, well, you had a few extra sets of clothes for the future.  

Rolling the cart from the colorful women’s section into the beige and blue men’s section, you searched for Bob. Occasionally, you stopped to snicker at a strange quote plastered onto a shirt before moving on. It didn’t take long for you to find Bob, hiding behind a rack of pants. His eyes darted between the comfortable fabric of the sweat pants and the stiffer, nicer-looking trousers. 

“Get both,” you spoke, coming up beside him. 

Bob nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jesus!” 

You chuckled. “Someone’s jumpy. Who’re these for?” You asked, pointing to the pants as you gently pried the pile Bob held in his hands, placing them into the cart. 

“Uh, I got everything for the others, except–Does Walker seem like a sweatpants guy to you? I don’t know.” 

You pursed your lips, excessively jutting out your bottom lip. “John’s definitely a pants kind of guy. I doubt the man’s worn anything other than shorts when lounging around. If you’re talking sweatpants, Alexei’s your man. Bucky…he’s a pants man, but also wears sweatpants.” 

Bob cocked his brow at your words. “You seem very sure about Bucky’s taste.” 

You scoffed. “Only had to live on the run with him for a while. Of course, Steve was there, but you learn a lot about a person living under the radar with them.” You noticed the questions popping up from Bob’s throat, waiting at the tip of his tongue. “The Sokovia Accords Debate?” Bob shook his head, unsure of what you were talking about. “It’s this set of agreements that regulates superhumans. Some of the Avengers were all for it; it held us accountable for our actions and their consequences. But others…well, they knew it meant the government would hold power over us.” You grew quiet as you took a pair of pants in John’s size and placed them in the cart. “I was scared and didn’t want to be under the government's control again. I suppose some of the others felt the same way. But it created a…divide amongst us.” You felt Bob’s eyes stare right through you. The pity, the sympathy, you didn’t want it. Shaking your head, you peered up at Bob with a tense smile. “They were repealed in the end. You know, after…the blip.” 

Biting his lip, Bob reached out to grasp your arm and offer comfort. He couldn’t remember much about the blip, being in and out of intoxicated states. He had a hard time remembering anything from the haziness of his memory.  But before his hand could touch you, you stepped back, taking a sharp inhale at the sight of his hand, his bare skin. “S-sorry,” Bob hurriedly said, pulling his hand back into his body. 

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry, I just–I don’t like touching people with my ability and all. Sometimes it’s fine and other times it’s…dangerous.” You stepped to the cart, taking the steering bar in your hands to push it to the grocery section of the store. You needed something other than some week-old beers and microwavable mac and cheese in your home. “It wasn’t always like that, you only had to worry about electronic things frying, but now…it’s everything—anything with energy. Anyway,” You muttered, trying to bring a more cheerful tone to the conversation. “Want to help me pick out something for dinner?” You didn’t give Bob time to answer before you had pushed the cart out of the men’s section. 

Little conversation passed between you two as you selected some ingredients from the vegetable aisle. A simple pasta was easy enough to make and filling enough for seven people. You figured you’d also get some stuff to make sandwiches and some stuff for breakfast, unsure of how long everyone would be staying. Bob occasionally selected a few things to place into the cart. As the silence deepened between you two, you felt shame rising, boiling to the surface. The only sound accompanying the tension shifting in the air was the squeaking of the cart’s wheel. It had decided the weight of everything in the cart was too much for it. You couldn’t take one more deafening squeak, but couldn’t find it in yourself to say anything. Soon, you found yourself finished with the checkout, your card in hand. The cashier handed you your receipt as Bob placed the bagged goods into the cart, replacing you at the helm. 

“Uh, I-” You kicked yourself, folding the receipt into a tiny little square. What were you going to say? Sorry for unconsciously dumping trauma onto you. Sorry for shutting down your help. Sorry for being a dick? None of the options your mind came up with sat well with you. Instead, you found yourself addressing a different topic. “Want to help me make…dinner?” 

“You don’t sound very sure about that,” Bob noted, sensing the uncertainty in your voice. 

“No, I want your help–I just meant–Is it really dinner? God,” you groaned. “I’m exhausted.”

“Thought you said you weren’t tired,” Bob repeated, unconsciously leaning into you. Not quite brushing shoulders, but close enough, you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. “Offered me your room to sleep in and everything.” 

“Right. I did.” You sighed, glancing up at him. “Well, Bob, I lied. I fucking tired. Yeah, I was unconscious after crashing down from the sky, but there’s a difference in resting and being in an unresponsive state–”

“Wait, you what?”

You paused, having arrived at your car. You clicked the button that lifted the trunk. Your nose scrunched up slightly. “Do you…remember?” You shook your head. “What do you remember?” 

“Uh,” Bob muttered, placing two bags into the back of your car. “Last I remember, I ran out, distracting everyone, and I saw you…” His eyes locked onto yours, his eyebrows pinching together. “You were calling out my name. They were–” He looked away. You watched as the muscles in his jaw clenched. You gulped. “You were supposed to be in the car with the others, but you came after me. W-why?”

You unloaded the last bag into the trunk, pulled the trunk closed, and began to push the cart into its designated spot in the parking lot. “That’s a…big question, Bob.” 

“We’ve got time,” Bob muttered. 

You took in a deep sigh as you two split; he entered the passenger seat and you the driver’s seat. Putting the key into the ignition, you turned it, your car humming to life. “I–” you looked down at your gloved hands. You had already told Bob more in a few hours than you had managed to spit out to Bucky in months. There was something about him that made you want to talk. Maybe it’s because you knew he’d understand, or that maybe he’d listen to you and not just hear your words. Whatever the reason, you began to speak just as the radio began to play a 90s rock song quietly in the background. “In the vault, I guess I made a promise to myself that I’d make sure you made it out. Told myself if I got you out, safe and sound, maybe I was what my dad thought I could be–a hero. And when you took off, drawing attention away from us so we could escape, I ran after you.” 

“But you are a hero,” Bob said. “At least, I think you are.” 

You smiled at Bob’s words. “Thanks, Bob.” You turned your attention away from him and to the road. You didn’t feel like now was the time to drop any more stories of your past. Instead, you cranked up the volume, allowing the music to fill the air. 

Before you knew it, you had returned to your place, groceries unloaded and covering the countertop. Slowly, you began to unpack, placing everything in its place. Bob was kind enough to deliver the change of clothes and tooth brushes to their respective owners while you got dinner started. Yelena had woken up first, quickly showering before sauntering into the kitchen to peer over your shoulder, peering at the pot of boiling water. 

“You’re making…?” Yelena asked, her accent seemingly thicker with sleep. You glanced over at her. Droplets of water trickled off her hair and onto the new shirt you had gotten her. It was a light grey with cute doodles of puppies on them. 

“Pasta.”

“Pasta.” She repeated your words, slightly shaking her head back and forth like a bobblehead. “Just Pasta? No special sauce or–”

“Just pasta.” 

“Alright, no,” Yelena stated, snatching the wooden spoon from your hand. “There is no ‘just pasta’. That is so wrong. Sit back, I’ll make dinner. ‘Just pasta,’ she grumbled, the words like it was a slur. Too tired, you stepped away from the stove, allowing Yelena full control of the cooking process. “What else did you get from the store?” You shrugged. “Please tell me you got some vegetables. Some meat?” You pointed over to a brown paper bag on the counter. Yelena skipped towards the bags, pulling out what she wanted. She gave you an approving look before asking you where everything in your kitchen was located. But before you could answer, she cut you off. “Never mind, I’ll find it. Just go to sleep and rid yourself of those…” She used her finger to draw tiny circles around your eyes. “Raccoon eyes. A bit too emo if you ask me.”

“They’re not that bad.”  

Yelena smirked at your defensive reaction. “They’re bad. So bad. Bob, tell Stark how bad her eye bags are.” 

You whirled around to find Bob sneaking back into the kitchen. His eyes widened, hovering over your dark circles. He peered over at Yelena, who was waiting for his agreement. “I–You do look tired,” Bob replied. 

Quickly, you brought your hands to cover your eyes. “Alright, I got it. I’ll go sleep,” You turned to Yelena. “Just don’t burn my house down.”

“No promises,” Yelena smiled, shooing you out of the kitchen and up the stairs. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been sleeping. Once your head hit the soft plush of your pillow, your eyes closed, welcoming in well-deserved rest. Your lullaby was the loud rumbling snores that escaped through the wall you shared with the guest room, where Alexei and John were sleeping. You doubted John Walker was the kind of man who snored. Instead, you selected Alexei as the source of the thunderous noise. Any other day, the snoring would put you off sleep, yet the exhaustion that ached deep from within your bones overcame you. You didn’t even manage to pull your comforter over your body before falling asleep. It was a decision you regretted upon waking up. A chill crept up your body as Yelena shook you awake. Your eyes peered open. You groaned, of course, everyone was now occupying your room. 

“Whatisit?” You mumbled, your words slurring together. 

“Stark,” Yelena called out to you in your slumber. “It’s Valentina. She wants to talk.” 

You were wide awake now. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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[unholyhelbig]

any chance for a kate x reader angst?

Title: Firecrest (Part 1/???)

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4075

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual activities, fire, mentions of childhood abandonment, horrible grammar (I don't proofread lol), and things I'm sure I'm forgetting.

[A/n: how about enemies to lovers angst? How about Enemies to lovers with a little fake dating sprinkled in there? Let me know if this is something you all would like to see continued!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Your mother had the in-depth beauty of a street dog. Her features were angular, yet soft and welcoming. People were often tempted to reach and run their fingers through her fur. But she tended to gently correct. She had the perfect demeanor for a government spy. However, you had always known her as a brilliant biochemist. Alluring in her brilliance.

The soft lights of the city shaded her face in the back of the taxi. The air had warmed significantly, but the low hum of the air conditioner made you pull your suit jacket close to your breast. The maroon had felt like too much at first. But the impressed nod from the woman next to you was enough to ebb away any doubts.

Your mother popped open her compact and swiped her finger against the corner of her mouth, taking away the smudged gloss that wasn’t noticeable in comparison to her presence. There was not much you feared in this world, but her wrath. Her annoyance. Her disappointment. None of which she flashed often.

“Remember what we talked about, y/n.”

“Of course. Would you like me to repeat it?”

She snapped the compact and leveled you with amusement. Her eyebrow lifted, the start of a smile at the corner of her lip. She couldn’t be serious. You made eye contact with the taxi driver in the mirror. He showed the same amusement that your mother did, yet somehow, hers stung more.

A groan escaped you, but bled into the mantra that was drilled into you for the past two weeks. “I will be the perfect lady who is grateful for the success of Lance and his political circuit.”

“And?”

“I will not start anything I can’t finish with Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, And I’m an adult perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“That wasn’t part of it.” Your mother corrected softly. Her hands were suddenly on you, smoothing down the lapel of your suit. “But It’ll do. Mostly, because we’re here.”

Eleanor Bishop often held her galas in the historic buildings of downtown Manhattan. There were small pamphlets lingering by the extensive hand-carved doors. They’d detail the rich family that had built it from the ground up. The architecture was always admittedly beautiful, and Eleanor had a subtle, expensive taste.

This venue was no different; stretching hallways and men in suits that mirrored yours in a tasteful black. Your mother never stepped ahead of you, instead holding a hand out and helping you from the back of the taxi. You’d left a generous tip, careful not to shove your hands into your pockets.

“This used to be a museum for fine arts and culture. The last I heard; the city was going to tear it down but made it a historical site. They use it for banquets now, I suppose.”

“Oh? You’ve read the informational booklet, then?”

She jabbed her elbow into your ribs and mocked a scowl. “No. I robbed it. How do you think we paid for your college tuition, kiddo?”

That was an exaggeration. You were 90% sure- maybe 75%. Bobbi Morse was a force to be reckoned with, and that was something you had learned from a young age. She’d let you sit on the counter of her lab while she worked, and you’d watch her with absolute awe.

Your mother had taught you, without fail, a variety of fighting skills. Starting with Aikido and ending with Taekwondo. She was a master at her craft, both in the field and in her lab and had worked with you since you could walk to train you in the same.

“Mm,” You hummed your response, “Which priceless painting did you take?”

“It was a vase, smart-ass.”

You pulled in a breath to retort before effectively being rendered silent by the performance hall. Eleanor Bishop had gone all out for the benefits that she backed. This was a vast space that was adorned in white sheer and glittering lights. A slideshow of the sponsored bird sanctuary flashed on the televisions scattered throughout the space.

There was a band on the stage, string instruments that you could feel in the center of your chest. The low notes shuddered through you as you took in the crowd. There were few that you actually recognized, usually hazed in expensive alcohol and lingering by the food, or some form of fresh air.

“It’s ironic that it’s about birds, right?”

She leveled you with an unimpressed look and squeezed your shoulder fondly. It didn’t take long for Lance to make his way over to the both of you. His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his freshly-shaved face. He gave you a small wave, gently exiting the conversation he was having with a congressman, a millionaire, or an architect that was just the right amount of desperate.

Lance Hunter had stolen your mothers heart when you were ten years old. You always assumed it was the accent, but the more you got to know him, the more you understood his charms. Lance had never forced things with you, had never claimed to be your father.

There were quiet moments when he’d join you on the wrap-around porch of your family home and just sit. The two of you would watch the way the sun dipped behind the horizon, sipping on syrupy cans of soft drink. Eventually, you talked to him, and he listened with diligence.

“My girls,” he said, placing a chaste kiss against your forehead before sidling up next to Bobbi. They had effortlessly matched in a deep and royal blue that contrasted the ignited red of your own suit. You were the perfect epitome of a political family.

Eleanor Bishop had given you a brief nod of the head, signifying your presence. It was a silent warning told through blackened eyes: Behave.

Her diligent attention was enough to split your family up. You preferred to linger away from the stuffy socialites. Bobbi and Lance were required to mingle. You plucked a flute of bubbling champagne from a passing tray and moved towards one of the elegant support beams decorated with what you now learned, was real foliage.

The floral scent tickled the back of your throat, so you took a generous swallow and let the alcohol warm your stomach diligently. There had to be something interesting around here, away from the rest of the party. A plague or two that would further explain the venue.

A burst of forced laughter greeted your parents as they sidled up next to Jack and Eleanor. Lance had produced some campaign buttons, which the group took without hesitation. You had to admit, he was loveable and politician-worthy.

“Look at us, we match.”

You swallowed back a groan, not bothering to look over. A small noise still escaped you, and the grumble conveyed your exact disposition towards Kate Bishop. Disgust. Annoyance. The slightest bit of attraction. She overwhelmed your senses with her crisp, winter scent.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you glanced over at her. She was in red too, incredibly vibrant against her soft expanses of exposed skin. The dress had a dipping neckline, revealing the freckles that created constellations against her collarbone. She beamed with irritation. You’d never admit that she was captivating.

“I thought you were given explicit instructions to leave me be.” You said between gritted teeth.

She hummed and grasped the drink from your hand. Kate was calculated in her movements, wrapping her lips around the smudge of lipstick that you’d already created on the rim of the glass. She didn’t break eye contact, those slate orbs boring into you.

“We both know you’re the most interesting thing at these parties.”

“I’m not falling for your… charms, Kate Bishop. Your mother may have bought you out of our consequences last time. But, I have more at stake.”

She scoffed and set the now empty glass down on the nearest table. You knew damn well that Kate wasn’t absolved of accountability after your run-in a few months back. She held herself differently now, and it was a minute expression of her posture that caught your attention.

There was a small split at the corner of her lip, and a healing bruise just at her hairline. She’d attempted to use makeup to cover the abrasions, but you had a trained eye. You were your mother’s daughter. These were defensive wounds. And for just a moment, you worried that the Bishop’s had a heavier hand than you’d anticipated.

But then, Kate’s muscles flexed and her head lilted to the side, dark curls splaying over her shoulders. She had grown stronger. It wasn’t noticeable, or at least, it shouldn’t’ have been. But you knew every inch of her body and despite your forced separation, she’d grown steady of herself.

“Why should I be punished, when you’re the one who set the curtains ablaze.”

You leaned close enough to feel her body heat. To her credit, she didn’t step back. A ghost of a smirk was on her lips. You snarled your words. “And who’s fault was that?”

“I don’t see how I was supposed to know you’d get trigger happy with your powers when I went down on you.” She gave you a cocky pout. “Is that a new thing, or have you never been able to handle yourself in moments of pleasure?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from grasping at the strap on her dress, pulling her closer to you out of a burst of anger. The phantom look of confidence spread into a full-blown grin. You were exasperated, the familiar heat burning just under your skin.

It was true, you’d lost control for just a moment, with Kate Bishops head between your legs, one hand buried deep in her mess of tangled hair. As an orgasm washed over you, thighs shaking, your other hand had drifted too close to the drapes and had caught them ablaze.

Despite the both of you being adults, you were separated within an instant. Dragged embarrassingly away by your respective parental units after the fire was put out. The last you’d seen of her was reflected with the flashing red lights of a rumbling fire engine.

Kate had a devilish look in her eyes. “Harder, baby.”

“Ladies,”

It was a resolute sound that had you pulling apart as if she was a toxic entity. In your book, she was. Both hands landed in your pockets and the two of you looked sheepishly at Eleanor. She’d been keeping an eye on you, you were sure. And had made a direct line to you the second Kate had given you that salacious look.

“Good evening, Mrs. Bishop. It’s a pleasure to see you.”

Kate coughed out something that sounded like ‘Kiss ass’ and covered it up with a doe-eyed look of innocence. She may not have been afraid of her mother, but you were terrified. Bobbi had a soft hand. It commanded you like a weapon, and you were happy to do what you were told.

Your own punishment had consisted of heavier training. Both mentally and physically to perfect control that you’d had mastered years ago when you were nothing but a girl with streaks of tears dripping from your chin. The fire had been too strong then, overwhelming and horrible.

“Good evening, Miss Morse, I trust you’ve found a way to entertain yourself during the benefit that isn’t antagonizing my daughter.” Before you could answer, she turned her attention to Kate. “And you. I specifically allowed you to bring a guest in attempts to keep you away from Bobbi’s little arsonist.”

She had been under the full impression that you’d taken a zippo to the hanging drapes. It was the white-hot flames that leaked from your own fingers that had done the damage. Kate was thankfully tight-lipped about the fact, and you let the socialite think whatever she wanted. She hadn’t pressed charges.

Kate pulled her shoulders back, almost looking offended at the name you were tagged with. Almost. “Clint got stopped at the front for an autograph, mom. I’m just biding my time.”

“Bide it somewhere else. We’ve talked about this.”

Eleanor gave you a tight-lipped smile that had noticeably softened compared to the venomous expression she held for Kate. A light squeeze was delivered to your arm. It had always scared you how quick she could switch like that. Her shoulders pulled back as she wandered back over to her group.

Lance lifted his chin in your direction. Silently asking if everything was okay, and it was. His quiet reassurance brought the heat licking at your stomach to a bubbling halt. Why you cared more about Eleanors disposition towards Kate, then her acidity directed at you, was beyond something you were willing to confront.

“Who’s Clint?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Can we have a normal conversation, please. Is it so shocking that I’d take interest in your friends?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Yes. If you must know, he’s not a friend. He’s a mentor. He’s, my partner.”

Both of your eyebrows lifted. Partner in what? It wasn’t something you would audibly voice, save you show any concern past the normal amount that you usually had for Kate. The tautness of her muscles, and the superficial injuries made that discomfort return to the pit of your stomach.

Kate was an archer. You knew such from the trophies that littered her dresser the one time you’d been privy to her room. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid much attention. You were backed against her door and her teeth were scraping against your pulse point. But the little gold figures and the child-sized bow on the wall was enough to of a giveaway.

You only knew one archer, and you knew him distantly; from photos that your mother had blacked out with a sharpie. She’d later told you that she regretted the fact because the memories of the three of you would always remain.

The taste of bile filled your throat and Kate lilted her head to the side, like a golden retriever that had heard a piercing noise. There was a surprising amount of concern in her voice. “You okay? You’re looking a little green.”

“Hm? Yeah. Totally. The champagne is just sitting weird.”

A frown had found its way onto your face, and you directed your attention back to the crowd. It seemed that Eleanor was satisfied enough with the two of you lingering in silence. You were trained to know where the exits were in any venue. Kate’s stare shockingly darted in the same pattern as your own.

People had trickled in until the floor was bustling with conversation. You let your shoulders relax in the slightest bit, swallowing back the acrid taste in your mouth. Eleanor had lost her viewpoint of you and her daughter, and you weren’t much in the mood for fighting her on pure proximity.

“There you are, god, I didn’t know this many people cared about birds.”

This time, you couldn’t stop your narrowed eyes from flashing to the intrusion. Whatever distracted Kate was enough to be deemed a savior in your book. But the voice was familiar, painfully so. It was as if your body reacted by busting out in goosebumps, chills rushing down your spine.

Now, you wanted your mother to be able to see you. You were a strong, and capable adult that knew at least six different ways to kill a person without a weapon. You’d gone on missions with your mother, with your Aunt Daisy, too. A simple man in a simpler suit should not make your knees weak.

Yet- here he was. In a charcoal black ensemble with a pocket square that was a flash of purple. It was a color you’d grown to despise. It was an eyesore, as was the man that stood at a height taller than Kate, but just a few inches.

You’d found a singular picture of him that wasn’t defaced in your mother’s nightstand. A polaroid of the three of you on the beach. The sun had turned your cheeks a flushed pink. He had you in his arms and beamed at the camera. Eyes matching the blue of the ocean.

They were the same now, the same vibrancy that you’d thought about. He looked other, worn from parenthood and the effects of time. Of course, you’d seen him on television, but Bobbi had always been quick to flick it off, only lingering during the Sokovia accords.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, but you were careful to keep your jaw stock still. You weren’t going to give Clint Barton the satisfaction of rattling you. Not here, not if he ever decided to show up when you had a family of your own. Not on your deathbed. He couldn’t invoke that from you.

Kate had learned to pick up on body language, and she had learned fast. Her stare shifted between both you, and Clint. She had the right amount of perception to keep her mouth shut, even taking half an inch step back. She was in a position to hold the two of you apart, if need be.

“Holy shit,” He breathed out, “Sparky.”

“Don’t call me Sparky.”

You were taken aback by your own ability to produce words. They were pinched and had dropped down an octave to true anger. Not the type that Kate Bishop was used to. Sure, you had aggravation directed towards her, but nothing short of teasing.

Clint took a slight step towards you, and you took a large one back, nearly bumping into the support beam wrapped with vines and vibrant flowers. Your hand reached out to grab onto it for support, but Kate’s fingers wrapped gently around your wrist. Right. Yes. That would be the safe bet.

You needed to find Bobbi.

Chances were, Clint hadn’t seen her with the growing attendance. You could slip out through the large storm doors that were a few feet behind you. At least then, you could burn scorch marks into the grass and not into this historical building.

“What is happening?” Kate said, refusing to remove her hand from your wrist. You didn’t wrench it away, either. It was a force, a grounding factor. You refused to let the fire move past your fingertips in fear that it would burn her. “Clint?”

“She uh… She’s…”

The words died in his throat. You couldn’t’ stand looking at him, pale as ice and wringing his hands nervously. He couldn’t hold still, but you were like a stone. Almost as if he would vanish the second you averted your stare.

“I’m his daughter.”

Kate’s hand did move from your wrist and to your hand, almost out of instinct. Your relationship, or lack-there-of, had never required this kind of closeness. But She was hanging on tightly, nails digging into your skin. The slight sting brought you back.

Clint croaked “How’s your mother?”

Kate winced and you felt the spring in your spine loosen. He was more nervous than you were and that gave you an advantage. “You can ask her yourself. She and Lance are mingling.”

“Lance is here?”

“Of course.”

He was running for congressman. It would damage his campaign if he hadn’t shown up. The gossip blogs that followed the lives of New Yorks Elite had picked up on the rift between you and Kate. There were a few grainy photos of the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, wrapped in foil blankets that made you look like Baked potatoes. There was soot on her chin, and you had wiped the darkness away with your thumb. Of course, that had been the moment they caught and wrote about, and plastered all over the internet.

Clint worked his jaw and cupped the back of his neck with a tepid smile. It wavered incessantly. He was boyish in his charm and that would always be the case, no matter how old he got. You knew he had a family now. A real family that didn’t’ consist of a secret agent and their match-happy daughter.

You gave Kate a squeeze with your free hand, signaling that you were fine. The last thing you wanted to appear was weak. She seemed to get the message loud and clear, wrenching her touch away with a nervous clearing of her throat.

“I’m sorry… Can we back up for a second?”  

Clint had a dejected look in his eyes that almost made you feel a twinge of guilt. Almost. Your own ego often got in the way of things, and this was one of them. There was a flood of emotions between both of the archers, a silent pleading to hear him out.

“You and Mrs. Morse dated?”

“They were married.” You snatched another glass of campaign, this one all for yourself. You swallowed the acrid drink and let the bubbles assault your throat. “When did the divorce finalize, again?

“Y/n”

“No, I was never really privy to the details myself.”

“We shouldn’t do this here.”

You finished off the rest of the drink, a certain amount of your defenses lower. You felt warm, but not warm enough to do something stupid. He was right. You shouldn’t do this here and if you had your way, you wouldn’t’ do it anywhere. You were perfectly content to let this man slip back into oblivion and train the Bishop heiress that you had a habit of bedding.

Clint seemed to let out a sigh of relief when you nodded in agreement. He scrutinized you both, the rush of initial shock ebbing away like a melting lake. Chunks of ice broke off and gave way to the familiarity and closeness the two of you held. It was relaxed, despite the rivalry that landed you here in the first place.

“No,” he drawled out, “No, no, no. Kate, you didn’t’.”

The tips of her ears were red enough to match your suit and the color that painted her own lips. She hid her face in her hands with a groan. But you wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her against your side.

“Does that bother you, old man?”

It clearly did. Kate leveled you with a delicious glare that was unmatched but didn’t’ move from your hold. Was she letting you have this? You weren’t entirely sure. He was whipping his head back and fourth with enough force to break his own neck. It was making you dizzy, but giddy all the same.

Your moment of joy at his dismay was short lived. You caught the sharp scent of your mothers perfume. She’d cut through the crowd and furrowed her brow at your closeness to Kate. It took her a few moments to realize that Clint was here. To realize that he was the man that had spurred your act of rebellion in doing the exact opposite of what she’d requested at the start of the night.

Her cool eyes took him in just as yours had. Kate was still next to you, swallowing a dryness in her throat that you could nearly hear. Bobbi didn’t attempt to separate you as Eleanor had. Instead, she gave you a quiet stare. “Darling, I think it’s time we go. There’s a situation we have to attend to.”

“Of course. It’s been a pleasure.”

It hadn’t been, but you shocked yourself and Kate by leaning in and pressing a kiss just behind her ear, still blazing with blush. She froze but gave you the slightest bit of nod. Clint opened and closed his mouth like a surfaced fish, but kept quiet.

Your mother walked with a purpose, her shoulders pulled back and an elegance to her sway. You didn’t look back, keeping time with her as she weaved through the crowd and towards the lobby that was ten degrees cooler and much, much more welcoming.

“Is there actually a situation, or is this your attempt at a rescue?”

She ignored your question, stopping and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a soft look in her eyes that made your stomach squirm. “Are you okay, sweetie? I had no idea that he’d be here. I never would have made you come.”

“I’m fine, mom.” She didn’t seem convinced, so you added “Really.”

Eventually, Bobbi relented with a shaky sigh and cupped your cheek in a comforting manner. “Good. Okay. Good. Because we do have a situation.”

[fandomnerd9602]

Sequel to Galacta X Male Reader I remembered that she had or has a kid (I don't know what happened to it let's say it's ok) since it's a baby the kid is always hanging onto Male Reader feeding off of him like Galacta because unlike Galacta the baby can and will eat everything in existence if given the chance

Also the baby is wearing those little baby onesies with the words "Little Tapeworm" because that's what the baby is a cosmic tapeworm to Galacta just like she was to her father Galactus before seperation

Galacta gently rocks her baby as Y/N walks in with a little onesie…

Galacta: Mommy’s Little Tapeworm? Oh I love it!!!

Their baby whines…

Galacta: babe, the baby’s hungry

Y/N puts their thumb towards the baby and sends out a beam of cosmic energy…