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notjustjavierpena · 1 year

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Three Times You Didn’t Kiss Joel - And One Time You Did - Part I: Introductions

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A/N: Enjoy the beginning of a four-chapter fic, where a cute summer romance starts! This is the same universe as Hurried Morning but before! Chapter two and three are just waiting to be posted.

Summary: Joel helps you restore your grandparents' house over the summer. He has big strong arms.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 no smut but mature thoughts (minors DNI), pining, summer romance, DILF Joel, sexual tension, idiots in love

Word count: 2.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47914783/chapters/120803500

Chapter One: Introductions

The house had been empty for a while when you had moved in. The location was good, somewhat quietly charming as the suburbs were, but the house’s neglect called desperately for a loving hand to bring out that charm again, which had been allowed to fade for too long. It wasn’t that the house had been willfully neglected by you, no you had wanted the house for a long time, but the whole scenario of you ending up here had been long and ridiculous: Your older brother had finally, out of the goodness of his heart, offered it to you, but only after a few years of having been in doubt about whether or not to move into it with his family. He had only gotten first say in the fate of the old place, because he was the oldest of the two of you, a thing that he liked to remind you of.

The house was overly suburban, missing only a wisteria bush and a fresh coat of paint, additionally, perhaps, a good amount of effort put into the garden as well. It was going to be a time-consuming summer project, but one that you were excited about because of its potential end result.

The house was all paid off by your grandparents, but after the passing of your grandfather some years ago, your grandmother had felt like the house was too overwhelming to live in all by herself, so she had found some place smaller and left the fight of inheritance to your mother, who had then passed it onto you and your sibling. The fact that you had now won that fight was ironic; you would end up alone in a house that your grandmother found too overwhelming to be alone in.

You step out of your car after parking it in the driveway, walking around its back to open the trunk and start unloading its contents. It is half your latest salary worth of a Home Depot haul.

You head to the garage door, knowing that your grandfather used to have a workbench inside and you need tools to assemble some of the things you have bought, amongst other a stepladder that you hope to build without too much trouble.

Though the lock at the bottom of the garage door is already doing its job of causing trouble, and you curse quietly as you have to put everything onto the ground at your feet to use both hands on it. The lock struggles for a moment but then clicks, and you finally pull up the garage door until you can duck underneath it with ease.

You get a feeling of someone watching you as you drag two buckets of white paint into the garage, following with a new set of brushes and paint rollers.

The feeling grows stronger as you reemerge from the garage and you start to hear muffled voices nearby too, but you ignore it due to how much you have scheduled for today. Additionally, you would admit in all honesty that you would be staring at the single woman neighbor too, if she was struggling with the garage door and making a fool of herself. You push your curiosity away and reach into the car trunk again.

“Hey,” it’s the voice of a teenage girl. You jump and nearly hit your head against the roof of the vehicle, and she chuckles a little in a way to seem cooler than she is, “Oh, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you, but you just looked like you needed a little help and I wanted to offer. Well, my dad told me not to.”

“It’s alright, I’m grown. I can handle myself,” you stand up a little straighter to properly look at the teenager, giving her a smile to reassure her that you’re cool too. She’s around fifteen, kindest eyes you’ve ever seen in a girl her age, a mess of curls and her thumbs tucked into the belt loops on her jeans. She looks shy, but something tells you that she isn’t. You realize that you are staring, then hold out a hand and introduce yourself.

“I just moved in, inherited the place from my grandparents,” you add as the teen shakes your hand.

“I’m Sarah, we live just a house away. There,” she points to a nearby home, where a man is standing against one of the posts on the front porch. He has his arms crossed over his chest but you’re too far away to read his expression. Sarah continues, “Oh, right, that’s my dad. Yikes, that stance makes him look like a jerk.”

“Perhaps a little,” you laugh genuinely and Sarah beams at your approval. She raises her arm and waves her father over, who protests against it at first by waving his arms no, but then capitulates and walks over to you.

“Joel Miller,” he states as he approaches, holds out his hand and you repeat your name, trying to grab his hand for a shake, but it ends up the other way around with the size of his palm. Joel’s hands are huge and rough, calloused in a way that makes you guess that he doesn’t sit in an office all day. He has a firm grip, and you catch yourself watching the way that the muscles of his underarm flex when he holds your hand in what feels like an instant.

He doesn’t notice you staring at all, but you wonder if it’s because he is so used to it; Joel Miller is gorgeous, scruffy and sexy in his washed-out jeans and a simple army green t-shirt. You wish that you had worn something other than your dark blue t-shirt with a Batman logo, but a sundress would not have been practical for assembling stepladders and carrying tools.

“We were wonderin’ when we were gonna see someone move in,” he speaks with a Texan accent. It suits him very well, “I’ve wanted to paint the surface several times last summer, would be a shame to have it crack if you had the opportunity to save it.”

“I could use some help, honestly. My grandma moved somewhere smaller because it was too much work to be alone here,” you run a hand over your hair, brushing a strand behind your ear. Sarah looks from you to her father, and then back to you again.

“Maybe that’s our summer vacation!” She exclaims. Joel turns quickly towards her.

“Sarah, honey,” he warns but she just continues without a hint of hesitation, sporting childlike enthusiasm and innocence.

“But you said that we needed something to do together this summer, and we couldn’t afford a trip somewhere,” she reasons excitedly, “This is perfect. Very movie-esque, you know.”

“But it’s not our house,” Joel adds, smiles at you apologetically and makes your pulse spike.

“But she says she needs help,” she doesn’t let it go. It’s sort of sweet, “Come ooon, dad.”

“I do actually need help,” you back her up.

“You don’t have a boyfriend who knows how to swing a paint brush? Or who you’ll hurt by not letting him do the heavy lifting?” Joel asks casually. Sarah scrunches up her nose beside him.

“Nope, no boyfriend with a masculinity complex,” your cheeks blush a little as Joel chuckles, hidden by a smile as you shake your head no. You wish you did have a guy in your life, but right now only so you could see if there’d be any detectable disappointment on Joel’s face when you said yes.

Joel reaches up to scratch his beard. He looks like he is weighing the pros and cons, but a part of him also drags out the anticipation to tease his kid. He smirks, “Fine then, but you better be up early every day for a day’s hard work, Sarah Miller.”

“Oh, he used your whole name. You’re in trouble now,” you point out with a grin. Joel eyes you from beside you.

“Yes! Better than summer camp,” Sarah removes her fingers from the belt loops of her jeans to grab her father’s arm and press her forehead against it, “Thank you.”

“You’ve never been to summer camp,” Joel rolls his eyes but wraps an arm around his daughter.

“I sleep in though, so don’t come knocking at eight in the morning,” you point out.

“Dad sleeps in too, don’t worry,” Sarah keeps going.

“Sarah, what’s wrong with you?” Joel is the one who looks embarrassed now. He pushes her gently away, “Go back home, kid. Let the grown-ups sort out the details. You can call for pizza, yeah?”

“Ugh,” you hear her say to her father but she gives you a sweet smile, “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, Sarah,” you reply but she’s already walking away with her back towards you. Joel, on the other hand, doesn’t move from his spot in front of you, suddenly stuffing his hands in his pockets and almost entirely mirroring Sarah’s stance from moments before.

“Tell me what you need help with?” It’s meant more as a question or a suggestion than a command.

“Right,” you wonder how long you have been staring at his mouth. It’s been a while since you’ve been kissed, so you allow yourself the fantasy of Joel Miller being interested in kissing you. His beard tells you that it’s been a day too many since he would normally trim it, and you can almost imagine the feeling of the hairs tickling your chin and jaw as he kisses your mouth and neck—

Stop.

“Well, I have some work to do on the house facade,” you blurt out after the silence has gone on for too long.

“Clearly,” Joel nods in acknowledgement, crossing his arms over his chest and spreading his legs a little where he is standing. Like this, he looks like he is a good listener, “I should see if I can find some cheap but good wood protection, looks like it’s going to be more expensive in the long run if it doesn’t get some kind of coat.”

“That’s so nice of you,” you give him a soft smile. It is confirmed then; the man is clearly not the office-type with how he talks about restoring the construction of the house to its peak.

He goes on: “Don’t worry about it, yeah? I’m sure you can pay me with hot dinners for Sarah and I or something. I can do this, the work on the house, but I’m terrible at getting her to eat other things than takeout with my normal schedule.”

Suddenly very open. Interesting.

“I wouldn’t mind that, no. It’s going to be a lot of dinners though. I have a whole lot of ideas,” you reply, still trying to not drop your gaze to his mouth again as he talks, “Garden needs to be weeded out, replanted, lawn mowed— oh, you don’t have a lawnmower, do you?”

“Sure do,” he answers, nodding towards his house, “I can get it. You need help with that now?”

You blame the Texan sun for how breathless you feel as you have time to really look at him. He has his hands on the handle of his old lawnmower, gripping firmly to the point of unintentionally showing off his biceps in the form-fitted shirt that he wears as he pushes the lawnmower around the wild grass.

You are sitting on the back porch, legs crossed with a screwdriver in hand and the instructions to the, by now, stupid stepladder. You’re more creative than practical, and it shows in the way that you tighten one screw but the stepladder still wobbles as you test it out.

Frantically, you go through the instruction manual front to back and then back to front until you accidentally rip the thin paper, but you don’t feel any smarter about what you are doing. You throw the screwdriver onto the wooden boards beneath you, fighting the urge to scrape a bad word into the grayish wood.

You lean back on your arms and close your eyes almost all the way, soothing yourself by taking in the sun and letting yourself look at Joel work without him noticing too much. Your eyes travel down his frame, looking at the jeans that have green patches around the base of the legs before going upwards again. You try to convince yourself that looking at his clothes makes up for how you’re ogling him now.

Subconsciously, you stretch out your legs from underneath you, then cross one leg over the other and lean further back on your elbows instead. Joel’s knuckles are slightly white from gripping the lawnmower and his t-shirt has started to form a patch of sweat at the base of his spine, supposedly caused by sweat dripping from the back of his neck because the hair there is damp. You curl your toes a little, press your thighs together. You want to know how strong those hands are, how they work at his daytime job, which you guess by now has to do with construction work. It feels wrong to think these things, but you allow them as long as they don’t leave your head.

You close your eyes fully then, not needing to feel even more warmth prickle at your skin, radiating from your core instead of being caused by the sun. You lay like this until the lawnmower stops.

“Woah, what happened here?” Joel walks over and looks down at you and then to the crime scene you’ve left open on the back porch flooring. You stare at him with a sheepish expression on your face as he shields the sun from you with his body.

“It didn’t want to do it the way that I wanted,” you simply say.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” he jokes and shifts where he stands until the sun hits your eyes again. You grin up at him, holding a hand over your eyes to not be forced to close them and miss how he looks as he smiles back.

“Thanks by the way,” you add a moment later, “I’m honestly happy that I don’t have to do it myself.”

“Yeah, no problem… Look, I’m gonna go back to Sarah, have a shower, then the pizza that’s probably cold by now,” he lingers for a moment before starting to move.

“Sorry about the pizza,” you say and start to get up again, leaving behind the mess of screws, ripped pages and stupid tools.

“All good, I think Sarah will forgive me. She likes you,” he waves back at you as he leaves. You wave after him too, something feeling like it’s about to implode inside of your stomach and you know what it is. It is butterflies. It is the beginning of a crush.

In the morning, you find the stepladder assembled to perfection on your back porch.

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 8 months

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Take Care

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Everyone tries to warn Wanda what a bad idea it is to fall in love with the big, bad, scary spy.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language.

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When Wanda joined the Avengers she was sure she had just walked herself into some type of military team so strict and uptight that she was half expecting their fancy airplane to land in the middle of the desert surrounded by barbed wire and heavily armed men. They were, after all, the main ones responsible for keeping Earth safe from every type of villain that might come to them. Aliens, humans, and anything in between. Their team, formed by a literal God, a super soldier, a man who could turn himself into a green monster, a man whose big ego could barely fit inside his iron suit, and two humans - who, really, were probably better than all the other four combined - should live and breath for training, follow routines and focus on getting better and better every time.

Wanda realized pretty quickly that she had been wrong - very wrong - about her assumption.

Tony Stark was a kid stuck in a man’s body. He could barely keep a serious conversation with anyone and spent most of his time making jokes and provoking his colleagues. Bruce was one of the gentlest souls Wanda ever met - though, admittedly, she hadn’t met many of those during her lifetime - but he was a bit like an erudite and lived inside a lab. Thor assembled Wanda as that overly excited kid who got dropped at the amusement park with too much money. Steve was probably the only one among all of them who took this “hero” job as seriously as they should, though it was a bit wasted on him since he didn’t need to train to keep his shape and he was almost unmatchable. And Clint, well, Clint had so many dad jokes in his pockets that Wanda was as impressed by it as she was by his archery skills.

Less than a month of living with them and Wanda already realized that the men who were the most powerful and skilled people on Earth were just like every other man - but with powers and skills no one else had.

It did wonderful things for her because, for once, she didn’t walk into a military base camp like she thought she was going to when Steve and Clint convinced her to tag along after Sokovia, but also because the grief after losing Pietro was very consuming and it was good to have people around her who made her laugh or roll her eyes. It was good to feel things other than sorrow. She got closer to Steve more than anyone else since he was the calmest of them - centered and sweet - but, after a rough start when Wanda could barely get out of bed, she managed to form a bond with the entire team.

The point is that Wanda was aware that those people sometimes acted like the teenagers she often saw on the sitcoms she used to watch with her family. That, of course, did not prepare her to find out that, above all of that, their team also seemed to be keen on keeping updates to their comrades' private lives. In other words, they were gossipmongers.

“So…” The first one to bring it up had been Thor, surprisingly so because the God of Thunder was spending less and less time around nowadays. “I noticed you have a thing for the widow.”

Wanda was not at all surprised that the team picked up on the little signs that she might have taken a different liking to Natasha - of all people, really, and her heart had decided to beat a bit faster to the woman who could kill on two hundred and God knows how many different ways. There were spies on the team and most of them could, somehow, hear better than everyone else too. Also, they would never have gotten that far in battling the bad guys if they had been oblivious to things around them.

What did surprise her, however, was that someone decided to point it out. To her face. While they were trying to choose the movie for that night - Tony’s idea because he was insisting they should pretend to be some type of dysfunctional family who had movie nights or something like that.

With her eyes wide and heart beating fast inside her chest, Wanda glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone in the communal area where the largest TV known by man was. She could hear Tony and Clint bickering in the kitchen because they both had different ideas of what the night snack should be, and she knew Steve, Natasha and Sam must still be in the training room, so obviously Bruce was in his lab yet probably talking with Vision. Even so, Wanda didn’t look even a bit relaxed when she looked back at Thor.

“What?” She breathed out and then, because the nerves were eating her inside, she let out an awkward chuckle while shaking her head.

Wanda really thought the tall muscular man would let it go. He didn’t, of course. “No need to lie to me, shorty,” he said with a large smile that would’ve been charming if he wasn’t so damn daunting. Wanda also wanted to point out that everyone next to Thor would be short and that she was taller than most, but he didn’t give her a chance. “I can see the way you stare at her.”

Oh, God.

Wanda opened her mouth to try and come up with something to say but there was nothing her brain could use to get out of that situation. She wasn’t surprised people noticed but she was surprised Thor noticed. Because, if he did, so did everyone else. And, God, it was terrifying to have people knowing the things she felt.

She had a very complicated life until that point - and it still was, honestly - and Wanda learned when she was still a kid inside an orphanage that anything people knew about you could be used to hurt you. When Hydra started to make experiments on her, it became even more evident. Wanda proved it herself when she invaded the minds of the same people she now shared a roof with and used their worst memories and fears against them. And, after going through training with Natasha, Clint and Steve, Wanda could immediately panic thinking someone knew her deepest secrets.

Thor must have seen the panic on her face because his teasing smile turned more soft and he actually lowered his voice a bit - not that it would make such a difference since his timbre was so deep. “Hey, I’m not going to judge. Humans have so many rules and what they think is moral or not is based on things I can’t understand.”

It took Wanda a few seconds to understand what he was talking about. Thor thought she was afraid he would have a problem with Wanda having feelings for a woman when, in reality, she was scared that he knew she had feelings at all. If she wasn’t so tense, Wanda would’ve laughed.

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about, though,” Thor kept talking and Wanda was amazed he had a plan on what he wanted to talk with her about. Thor was not the type of guy who planned those things. Still holding the remote in her hand, Wanda waited for him to continue. “Look, Natasha is… very brave.” He made it sound like that was the most important quality someone could have. “And scary.” Wanda raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I mean, she’s a good woman. Very beautiful too.”

Okay, he didn’t have a plan.

Wanda slowly nodded. “Sure,” she mumbled, unsure what else she could say.

“She’s also not the woman who do dating,” Thor finally declared, suddenly looking proud of himself. “If you want, I’m pretty sure she would be down to sex, but take care, okay?” Wanda felt her face heating up in a way it had never done before and her eyes glued to the TV in front of her with renewed interest. There was no way that conversation was real. “If you do the sex, don’t get attached,” he warned her gently. “You might end up getting hurt. So, maybe, the best idea is to not have sex. Unless you want to.”

Wanda thought she wanted to disappear, maybe be swallowed whole by a portal or something that would take her away. She had magic and she certainly could make it happen if she tried hard enough but Wanda felt so shell-shocked that she couldn’t move. “Thor…”

The God interrupted her, though, which was good because Wanda wasn’t sure what she could even say. “I just mean that having feelings for someone like Natasha can be very tricky. But, if you ever get your heart broken and need someone to talk to, just come to find me. Unless I’m in Asgard, of course.”

Thor then used one of his ridiculously big hands to pat her on the back, a friendly gesture, but Wanda almost got thrown out of the couch because of how strong the man was. Wanda grimaced and moved away a few inches so he couldn’t reach her again if he tried, and she was about to finally snap and tell him to mind his own business when Tony and Clint entered the space with several popcorn bowls.

“Where is everyone else?” Tony asked and, just like that, the conversation was over.

Wanda couldn’t say she had forgotten all about it after it happened because it was hard to forget that Thor, the God of Thunder, decided to give her love advice, but she was sure it would never happen again. Sadly, Wanda didn’t have superspeed like Pietro to run away if it ever did but she could think about a few other things to escape if she had to.

That said, she didn’t expect that conversation to happen with someone else instead on the very next day. And with Tony of all people.

He had called her inside his lab to help him make some tests on his suit - he was trying to make it strong enough to support Wanda’s magic - and then allowed Wanda to use one of the robotic arms to blow one of the training dummies. Wanda had laughed after that, feeling like a kid playing with things she wasn’t supposed to, before telling him she still preferred the red flow that came from her own hand and giving him the suit piece back.

“Yes, not all of us can shoot explosive balls from our palms,” Tony replied with a scoff while pulling away his things.

“No need to be so jealous,” Wanda taunted him. They walked a long way until Wanda felt comfortable enough around the man and it took a little more time to be able to joke around him, but Tony had a place inside her heart as well.

“Jealous, honey?” Tony teased her back, taking a look at her from over his glasses. “I invented a thing that is pretty much the same you can do.”

“Well, yes,” she conceded before turning one of her palms up and letting a small red ball form just above it. “But you have to carry that suit everywhere.”

Tony sighed and didn’t argue back, which made Wanda smile and put her hands back inside her back pockets. She was about to ask him if he needed help with anything else since she had planned on going out with Vision to show him the ducks by the lake when Tony started talking before her.

“So, you wanna do funny business at workspace, huh?” Wanda had no idea what he just said and just kept staring at him with a blank expression on her face. Upon hearing nothing from her, Tony looked up from where he was typing on the computer and rolled his eyes impatiently. “You know, knock boots.” Tony kept looking, Wanda kept staring, and it became clear she was still lost. He sighed and started waving a hand while he came up with other things to say. “Have some horizontal refreshment, get down and dirty, shake the sheets, practice the act of darkness, have some adult naptime, make an assault with a friendly weapon, do the Devil’s dance, feed the kitty, hit a home run, join amorous congress - Steve would like that one - go cave diving.” Wanda felt like the man had just thrown a bunch of words that had no meaning at her and expected the girl to form a sentence. Tony groaned and his head dropped for a moment before he looked up at her again and declared: “Sex, Maximoff. I’m talking about sex.”

Wanda’s eyes widened, her cheeks became as red as the magic that winded around her fingers, and she took a step back out of shock. Yes, that wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have with Tony Stark of all people. In fact, Wanda would rather stay still as he blasted her with his Iron Man suit instead of having that particular conversation.

Though, as usual, it could get much worse.

“Let me tell you this, you could have chosen someone better to want to do the fun thing,” Tony huffed and shook his head, although he looked quite impressed. “That’s some dangerous place you want to hide your hot dog at.” Wanda wondered if anyone had ever passed out for blushing too hard because she felt a second away from doing it. “Well, guess that’s not the best euphemism for you. Let me think for a second.”

“You don’t need to,” Wanda murmured mostly to herself since, obviously, Tony didn’t pay her any mind.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Tony called out and Wanda watched with her eyes still wide as the artificial intelligence came to life to wait for what its creator wanted. “Can you tell me some euphemisms for lesbian sex?”

“Of course, Mister Stark,” the robot replied and Wanda reacted before it could get completely out of hand.

“Okay, I’m out of here.” Wanda turned around to walk to the door, eager to escape and be anywhere other than there.

She still heard F.R.I.D.A.Y. declaring: “Play rock, paper, scissors with only the scissors.”

“Come down, kiddo,” Tony called out after her. “I’m just trying to help!” Wanda opened the door and took a step out, ready to flee - run if she had to. “Romanoff is a very dangerous place to try to get funny, especially if you are totally smitten by her.”

Wanda glared at him in surprise. She wondered if Thor said something or if Tony also couldn’t keep his own business - and she knew the answer to that. “Tony, please, don’t ever talk to me again,” she pleaded because, honestly, she would never recover from the conversation they just had.

Tony laughed, though, and gave her a playful wink. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that you’re head over heels for our most dangerous, and hot, spy.”

“Bye, Tony.”

“Just saying that, if you want to love her with all your heart and soul, you should know Natasha is all about afternoon delights and nothing else.”

Wanda could only pray no one heard the man’s raised voice while she walked away. Thankfully, Tony didn’t follow her but Wanda didn’t go find Vision right away. She needed a few minutes to get over the fact that another person from their team decided to step out of their way to give Wanda a warning about Natasha Romanoff. Gosh, that was a bit humiliating.

However, Tony hadn’t been the first and wouldn’t be the last either, something that made Wanda want to go back to the rubbles of Sokovia. It felt like a better alternative than having her feelings rubbed into her face like they were public domain.

It was definitely better than having that conversation with Bruce Banner for sure.

“I guess I should give you my condolences,” Bruce said out of nowhere about a week after her weird conversation with Tony.

Half of the team was away on some type of mission, to which Wanda and Bruce hadn’t been needed, and both of them had ended up inside the man’s lab while he worked on something while Wanda read a book. She could’ve gone to the back of the Avengers’ compound where she could sit under a tree and enjoy the breeze, but Bruce was interested in some of the Hydra’s experiments and she decided to tag along with him in case he had any questions she could answer. Bruce and her weren’t that close, though they didn’t have problems with each other.

Wanda looked up from her book with a frown. “For what?” She asked. Pietro had died a while ago and Bruce had said he was sorry about it as soon as they landed after it happened, even going as far as giving her a gentle hug and a sad smile.

Bruce’s dark eyes glanced at her in sympathy, though he didn’t stop mixing whatever he was mixing inside a vial. “For falling in love with Natasha Romanoff,” he explained and, above all, he actually sounded sorry for her. “We should start a club for unrequited love or something.”

Wanda’s eyebrows rose comically as her jaw dropped in surprise. She had seen inside both Natasha’s and Bruce’s heads and she knew that it had happened, however, they never spoke about it and, as far as Wanda knew, they both preferred to pretend it never happened. So, to have the man address the fact that he had feelings for Natasha at some point in time was a bit disturbing. Especially because, yes, Wanda knew about it too and, all people considered, she was the one who tried the hardest to pretend she didn’t.

It was none of her business, to start with, but to think about it made her stomach churn uncomfortably.

And now Bruce Banner wanted to talk with Wanda as if they had both been cursed by some terrible catastrophe.

Which, Wanda supposed, was understandable yet extremely unfair.

“Surprised I know?” Bruce asked with a hint of humor.

“I’m starting to think the entire world has been watching me,” Wanda groaned as she closed her book but her voice was too low for Bruce to hear it.

“I too once looked at Natasha as if we could have a future together, just like you do now,” Bruce kept talking and, despite the harsh words, he didn’t sound like a jerk while saying it. It was probably his gentle nature saving him. “And that’s the problem, you know? Natasha doesn’t think she deserves to have a future, so she won’t even try to build one,” Bruce sighed and looked back at the vial. “We have that in common. Neither of us thinks we can have what Tony found with Pepper, or build something like Clint has.”

Bruce was fine talking about Natasha but he wasn’t comfortable looking at Wanda while he spoke about himself. The girl felt some rush of anger inside her and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying all the things that ran inside her mind at that moment. She knew Bruce meant well in the end.

“Maybe you’re both too harsh on yourselves,” Wanda pointed out softly.

When Bruce looked at her, it was pretty clear he couldn’t disagree more with what she just said but, maybe to take the spotlight away from him, he nodded. “Perhaps,” he said with a shrug. “I just wanted to warn you. You’re still young and I’m sure one-sided love won’t take you down. Just take care of yourself, okay? Don’t dream too much, keep your feet on the ground.”

It was the most direct way of saying “don’t be in love with Natasha Romanoff” without actually saying it.

Wanda didn’t reply - mostly because that’s not how feelings work, after all - and Bruce dropped the subject right after that. Wanda waited a few more minutes out of respect before excusing herself from his lab, taking her book with her, and that had been it. She would do a lot of things to prevent herself from having that conversation with Bruce again because the last thing she wanted was to hear the man talk about a time when he and Natasha talked about running away together - even if it never happened or if neither of them actually meant it.

The rest of the team returned by the end of the night and Wanda found a seat as far away from Bruce as she could manage when Tony declared they should watch a movie together. Turns out that Wanda realized she would rather hear Tony Stark come up with a thousand different ways to address sex than talk about feelings with Bruce Banner. Who would’ve guessed?

After that, Wanda got a break from the entire “let’s talk about your feelings” thing. Wanda left to join a mission with Steve and Vision, then it was time for Steve to leave with Clint and Natasha for something else. It was some nice good two weeks of not having to talk about how bad she was at hiding her crushes but it didn’t last forever, obviously.

“Hey, Red,” Clint said as soon as he was done eating after returning from his mission. It all went well enough that no one had a bruise or a more serious wound but Clint still had enough adrenaline rushing through his veins that he assured everyone he didn’t want to take a rest like Natasha and Steve wanted to. “You and me, training room. You game?”

It was hard to understand Clint at first when she first met him. Wanda’s first language wasn’t English and it could be hard to keep up when he wasn’t saying all the words. She always thought he would get along with Pietro just fine because of that. As time went by, and the more Wanda had English and accent classes with Natasha, it became easier to follow along, though.

So, she simply nodded and followed him to the training room after changing into something more comfortable. Natasha and Steve had been the ones to give her hand-to-hand combat training when she first joined the team but Wanda now sparred with everyone else since she proved she wouldn’t get herself killed accidentally. Clint was already inside waiting for her and they soon got on the training mattress. Clint wasn’t as good as Natasha but he was still better than Wanda, even more so since she wasn’t allowed to use her powers inside the room, and she quickly started to get her ass kicked.

“You’re still not that good at the whole kicking butt thing,” Clint teased her as he reached out with a hand for her to take it.

She grabbed it and got up with a groan when her muscles protested. “I could throw you across the street with a flick of my finger,” Wanda argued.

Clint simply laughed. “Yeah, right. Come on, try again.”

By the seventh time Wanda landed on the matt, Clint was starting to get tired finally and didn’t try to get her to get up. Wanda lay there, sweaty and out of breath, arms open and staring at the ceiling while cursing herself for never being able to keep up with him. Clint was drinking some water, staring down at her with a smug grin, and Wanda was waiting for him to tease her about it too.

He went to another approach, though. “You know, I thought you would’ve learned more things about it since Natasha was the one teaching you. Thought you would want to impress her or something.”

Wanda groaned because, by now, she knew what was about to happen and she wasn’t thrilled by it. “Not you too,” she complained.

Clint’s smirk told her he had heard her but he didn’t ask any questions about it. “Lemme tell ya,” he paused and pointed at the girl laying on her back, “Natasha would not be impressed.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and grunted as she set down so she wouldn’t feel so damn vulnerable. “You shouldn’t gloat. It’s bad luck.”

The man laughed even harder at that. “Right. Keep that in mind if you ever manage to fulfill your wildest dream to get Natasha to pin you down in a more fun way.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Wanda replied and used one hand to prop herself up. She got to her feet and glared at him. “Do you still want to fight or can I go take a shower?”

“You wish you could share a shower with-”

“Bye, Clint,” Wanda interrupted him so abruptly that he just laughed while she walked away.

Wanda was out of the door before he could say anything else but she had just stepped into the hallway when she walked right against a wall. Well, not a wall, she noticed when she looked up after letting out a small squeak. Steve Rogers.

“Oh, hi, Steve,” she greeted him. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“No problem,” Steve assured her with his sweet smile. “I also wasn’t looking. Are you done training?”

“Yes. Clint is trying to be funny.” Wanda rolled her eyes and heard his deep chuckle. “I thought you were resting.”

“I was but I’m kind of hungry now. Do you want to join me in the kitchen?”

“Yes. You and cap should have a tea party,” Clint said as he walked out of the room as well, not even trying to not hit her with his shoulder.

Wanda frowned and glared at him but the man simply laughed and walked away. Seriously, it was like sharing a house with a bunch of kids.

“I do make some pretty good tea,” Steve commented while giving her a little smile.

And Wanda was hooked.

She went down to the kitchen area with him, happily listening to him tell her about the mission and how it went. Wanda sat on one of the high stools, putting both of her elbows on the kitchen island and her hands clasped together while she watched Steve move around at ease to put some water on the kettle. He then walked to the fridge to find some leftovers he could warm up and Wanda couldn’t help but smile at the scene. A super soldier making some tea and eating old spaghetti.

“How were things while we were gone?” Steve asked after leaning back against the counter so he could eat and look at her at the same time.

“Normal,” Wanda replied, even though nothing had been very normal since the entire team decided to watch her every move because they thought it was so fun to see her little crush on Natasha. “Tony tried to make another movie night and was mad when Bruce fell asleep in the middle of what he called the best movie ever made.”

“Yes, sounds normal.” Steve rolled his eyes although the smile on his lips was fond. “Did you train with someone?”

Wanda shook her head. Ever since her training got less rigid - it happened after Natasha declared she was better in her combat skills enough to hold her own against their usual share of villains and after Steve was confident she could run without having a heart attack - Wanda didn’t go to the training room every day anymore. She liked to run in the mornings because it felt nice to clear her mind for the usual two miles she took and she enjoyed sparring sometimes just to learn some new move she might have missed before, but that was it. She relied a lot on her magic and Wanda was truly fine with it even if she knew Natasha would rather otherwise.

Steve too, though luckily he didn’t give her another long speech about the importance of training. “Well, I’m back now. We could train tomorrow morning.”

Wanda grimaced despite her best tries not to. “Sure,” she replied however because, well, she was a part of the team and people had to trust her. The man seemed amused by that, at least. “Maybe we could do that pair thing again,” Wanda suggested mainly because it was more fun to be paired up with someone while both of you tried to take down the other duo.

“I doubt Clint will be up before noon,” Steve said and finally put the now empty container down on the counter. The water was warm enough by now and he moved to grab two cups from the top cabinet - where Wanda could reach but where Natasha couldn’t, much to her disdain. “You want some too, yes?”

Wanda nodded in agreement. “We could ask Nat and Tony to join us, maybe.” Tony hated those sparring things but Wanda still wanted to make him suffer after making her painfully listen to him talk about sex.

Steve put one of the mugs in front of her, placed his palm on the marble and took a sip of his drink while looking at Wanda with amusement in his eyes. He waited until she drank some of it, watched her small grimace, and then chuckled when he pushed the sugar toward her. Wanda grabbed a cube and dropped it on the hot liquid before taking a spoon to swirl it.

“I once knew someone who put four sugar cubes in her tea,” Steve told her, grabbing her attention again.

Wanda’s eyes moved up when she noticed how much his voice had changed when he said that. Steve’s tone was something between longing and heartache, and his face showed something similar by the way his smile lost all strength. Wanda knew who he was thinking about. She had been inside his head once, she saw the woman’s face, and she felt his sorrow for the life that could have been.

It still took her breath away sometimes because Steve had loved that woman so dearly and then someone decided to transform him into a deadly weapon for the military and he lost it.

Since she didn’t know what to say - and because there was nothing she could come up with that would be truly helpful - Wanda reached out and placed her hand on top of his on the counter, squeezing his fingers tightly. Steve seemed surprised by it but he quickly offered her a small smile and squeezed her hand back.

“Love is a funny thing,” he whispered after a few seconds where he was probably debating with himself if he should keep talking or not. “It can give you the drive to be better, to do better, to fight more, to keep going. But it can also take away all of that,” Steve sighed, looked into her eyes, and tilted his head a little. “It can be a blessing and it can be a curse.”

“I know that,” Wanda replied carefully. “I thought I would never be able to smile again when I lost Pietro.” And there were still days where it was hard, where it was impossible to smile or eat or get out of bed or be reminded that she was still alive and her twin brother wasn’t. But there were days when she would be hit by the sudden wish to live for both of them, to try every milkshake and go to every beach and watch every movie. “I know they’re different situations, but I understand.”

“I know you do,” Steve smiled sadly. “You went through a lot already. More than most people would even be able to take.”

Wanda said nothing because she learned very soon that life wasn’t a competition of who had a more traumatic past, especially when she was part of a team where no one had an easy path to where they currently were. No one there had an easy life.

“Like I said,” Steve kept talking after he realized Wanda wasn’t going to say anything, “love can heal and it can hurt.”

“Steve,” Wanda smiled at him, “if you have something to say, just say it.”

He had the decency to look embarrassed and he averted his eyes for a moment, cheeks flushed and lips curled at the corners. “That was it,” Steve said eventually with a shrug. “That was all I had to say. Love can heal and it can hurt,” he repeated while taking the mug to his mouth again. “We need to be careful about it.”

After saying that, he took a sip of his tea and Wanda copied his movement just to keep herself busy for a while longer. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“It’s not my business, I know,” Steve admitted. “I just worry.”

“That I will break down and screw the team over if Natasha wants nothing to do with me and tells me to shove my feelings somewhere else?” Wanda asked without beating around the bush like Steve was. It was better when people were more direct about it, she decided.

The old man, though, grimaced and pursed his lips. “You’re spending too much time with Tony.”

“You should hear some of the things he said,” Wanda huffed but didn’t explain what she meant.

“I just worry, that’s all,” Steve said. “You went through a lot and… and some people might not be able to know how to deal with it.”

Wanda put her cup down. “That’s what every girl wants to hear, I suppose.”

His eyes went wide open after that. “No, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean like-”

“That’s okay, Steve,” she stopped him and slid out of her seat to go wash the mug on the sink.

“Let me.” Steve approached her to stop Wanda from reaching for the soap. He offered her a smile when she glanced up at him.

She could’ve argued if he hadn’t decided to join the large list of people trying to get their noses on her business. Instead, she let him take the sponge and the mug, thanked him for the tea, and left the kitchen. As she walked to the elevator, Wanda couldn’t help but wonder just how easily people could read her. It appeared like everyone living under the same roof as her could read her like an open book. It was very unsettling, to say the least. She wasn’t a spy like Clint or Natasha but Wanda was sure she should be better at keeping things inside if she wanted to join their hero thing club.

Wanda asked the artificial intelligence to take her to her floor and, seconds before, she was walking down the hallway on the floor she shared with Natasha. It was an entire floor just for them since they were the only women on the team but they barely ever used the small kitchen or the living room area. Wanda remembered being new to the team and seeing Natasha walking that corridor all sweaty after a training session, how her mouth felt dry and how her heart beat fast. She wondered if any of the people who had spoken with her before knew about that.

Tony and Clint would never let her live it down, Bruce might try to form some type of connection with her, Thor would probably give her a high five or something, and Steve would blush for days. How any of those men managed to be superheroes was beyond her.

Wanda sighed as she pushed the door open and then closed it behind her after she walked inside the room. She kicked off her shoes out of habit while debating with herself if she should jump into the shower already or rest for a couple of minutes, though that became an easy decision when her eyes landed on the bed. Wanda fluffed her pillow before her hand found a shoulder to gently push against.

She heard an unhappy groan that made her smile before the body on the bed turned around so Wanda was staring at the muscular back. There was a bruise and a small cut there, probably a memoir from the last mission, and she made a mental note to rub some healing ointment later. With another sigh, Wanda slipped under the covers, wrapping her arms around a slim waist and pressing her body against another one in a big spoon position she knew so well. Her nose immediately found the back of a neck between red locks and she took a deep breath in even if she knew there wouldn’t be any perfume to smell - people remember smells, she had been told once, and the goal is to go unnoticed.

“Where were you?”

Wanda smiled at the husky tone caused by drowsiness. “Your friends were either trying to kick my ass or to give me a shovel talk in reverse.” Tony had taught her what ‘shovel talk’ meant when he was telling a story once and Wanda was proud to finally be able to use it in a conversation. There were many American slang she was still learning about.

“Do I want to know?”

“Maybe later, after you had enough rest. You just came back,” Wanda said and then pressed her lips between shoulder blades.

That made Natasha sigh and grab Wanda’s hand that was resting on her stomach. The redhead pulled her closer, impossibly closer. “I’m awake now. Tell me about it.”

Wanda hesitated for a moment because she really wanted the other woman to be able to rest after returning from a mission but she also knew Natasha wouldn’t drop the subject. “Well, it appears that the entire team seems to think I have a crush on you.”

Natasha’s body shook with a chuckle against her. “Where on Earth did they take that idea from?” She joked while pushing herself back against Wanda’s body.

“I guess I’m an open book or something. Everyone has accused me of being in love with you or wanting to sleep with you.”

“They must be insane,” Natasha replied with a smile clear in her voice.

“They think I’m the insane one,” Wanda huffed a laugh and was about to tell the woman to go to sleep again when Natasha started to move. She removed her arm from around the redhead and patiently waited until Natasha turned around to face her, putting a space between them to be able to talk.

“How come?” Natasha wondered. “Please, don’t tell me these people think I’m literally a black widow or something.” She rolled her eyes at that because she could see it happening way too easily.

Wanda laughed. “No, but they do think you’re going to let me down gently. Or not so gently, I suppose. Bruce is pretty sure you’re going to break my heart in a million pieces, Steve thinks I’m too fragile to handle you, and Tony thinks it’s very likely that you would use me for sex and throw me in the gutter.”

Green eyes closed, which made Wanda pout a little because she loved staring at them. “Are any of them wrong?”

There it was. The self-doubting thing returning full force. They had talked about it many times before and Wanda never liked hearing Natasha put herself short. Bruce had made her a bit nauseous but he hadn’t lied about what Natasha thought of herself and her future. Wanda had only a few months to try to make Natasha see that she was allowed to be happy, that she deserved to be happy, that she shouldn’t punish herself for her past, but it was months against a lifetime of beliefs. Wanda knew she still had a long way before her words started making sense to the other woman.

“All of them, actually,” Wanda pointed out. “They didn’t even think you would ever spare me a look.”

“They’re stupid then. You’re a very nice thing to look at,” Natasha teased with a smile and cracked one eye open, which made Wanda chuckle and lean closer to kiss her nose, before she closed it again.

“We agree your friends lack some sense.”

“They’re your friends. For me, they’re coworkers.”

Wanda scoffed loudly at that. “No one believes that. You have a soft spot for them.”

Natasha sighed. “Just because they can’t figure out how to keep themselves alive without me having to save their asses all the fucking time.”

“Well, whatever is the reason,” Wanda said even if she knew Nat wasn’t serious, “they certainly aren’t my friends. They keep telling me to stop looking at you like you hung the stars or something like that. It didn’t make sense when Tony said it.”

“Maybe they tell you that because they’re your friends and because they care,” the redhead commented and opened her eyes again. “They don’t want to see you hurt. They care about you.”

Wanda didn’t have anything to say about that. She was a part of the team for a while now but it felt different to know those people cared for her, that they liked her, that they wanted her around. It was a strange feeling the whole ‘being wanted’ thing. Pietro used to be the only one to make her feel like that and it was hard to feel anything remotely like that ever since he was gone.

“They act like a gossip magazine,” Wanda said instead.

“They do, don’t they?” Natasha chuckled and silence fell around them for a few moments. Wanda was starting to feel sleep wanting to creep in and she knew she had to get up to take a shower before allowing herself to sleep but she felt so comfortable that it was impossible to move. She was about to ask Natasha to roll over again so they could sleep when the woman started talking. “And they think I don’t deserve you. That’s why they keep warning you to stay away.”

“No one warned me to stay away,” Wanda corrected her gently.

“They did and you should.” Natasha bit her bottom lip, looking too much like she was trying not to get emotional at that moment. “I’m broken. All sharp ends and hard edges. You’re soft, you can bruise and bleed.”

“Natasha, with all due respect, I spent the last few weeks hearing our friends try to say how I should or should not feel, sticking their noses in my business and basically saying I was too naive to make my own decisions.” Wanda paused to look deep into Natasha’s eyes. “I won’t hear it from you too. Not after I set there in silence and listened to them talk because they have no idea that you would be laying here in bed waiting for me to join you after you returned from a trip. We agreed not to tell them a thing, I get it, but you can’t agree with them in something like this. Not when you’re living this with me.”

Natasha’s green eyes filled with tears that never fell before she tilted her chin up to kiss Wanda’s forehead. Her lips lingered against her skin for a few seconds until they formed words. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Wanda whispered back.

“And I’m sorry we hadn’t told them yet,” the redhead added.

They talked about it before - about safety, about how it was better if no one else knew, about how keeping them under wraps was better so no bad guy could use it against them - and Wanda now had more arguments to validate that decision. It would be great to see their reactions to find out how wrong they had been but it was also good to know they could keep living their lives without having them trying to get a say about everything. They all meant well, she knew that, though it was hard to remember that sometimes.

“It’s for the best,” Wanda declared with a shrug.

“Suppose it is. I mean, they all think I’m one step away from breaking your heart.”

“They only think that because I’m too soft,” Wanda told her when she noticed the slight pain in the woman’s voice again. “It’s me, not you.”

“You need to stop talking with Tony,” Natasha scoffed before she started to turn around again, apparently tired of the conversation.

“You just wait until I tell them that you bring me flowers sometimes,” Wanda teased her as she wrapped her arm around Natasha’s waist one more time.

“Don’t you dare,” the spy argued fervently. “I have a reputation to keep.”

“And you’re doing a great job at that because everyone thinks you would use a flower to poke my eye or something.” Wanda chuckled at the thought. “Oh, they will never believe it when I tell them about you taking care of me after a nightmare.”

“I’m warning you, Maximoff.”

“And that you rub my feet every time you kick my ass at training.”

“I’m starting to feel like kicking your ass right now,” Natasha groaned.

Wanda just smiled. “How violent. Maybe they’re right and I should take care.”

“Yes, I’m dangerous.”

As she said that, Natasha hugged Wanda’s arm between her breasts to kiss the back of her hand and Wanda thought how lucky she was to be sharing a bed with the big, bad, scary spy.

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theycallmeinterstellar · 2 months

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"Reminder that even if your parents aren’t proud of you if Tony stark found you he’d probably adopt you in two seconds flat"

OKAY SO WHERE IS HE? I NEED HIM, ALWAYS SAW HIM AS A FATHER FIGURE

#tony stark #avengers assemble #avengers thoughts #avengers #writerscommunity #poems on tumblr #writeblr #peter parker #mcu #marvel #rdj #mcu comics #iron man #iron dad #tony stark as dad

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themidnightcrimson · 2 years

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Present—w. maximoff

summary: in which wanda wants to give you your birthday present at your party.

warnings: top!wanda, fingering, cumstrap, slight voyeurism, lots of groping, wanda being horny and feral, tony stark is our father

this post is for 18+ only. minors: do not interact.

masterlist.

Your father was addicted to showcasing. His new iron suits, each time they were thoroughly assembled and polished, were showcased in glass cases throughout the mansion. Each time his AI helpers (more like nannies for adult men) learned a new skill that he precariously programmed into them, he would drag the whole team down just to watch. And when it was his daughter’s birthday, he had a mission to showcase you to everyone he knew.

Your living room was filled with people you had never even met before. Tony had friends from all over the world and in every subculture of science and technology and millionaires. He’d been introducing you to everyone ever since you were a toddler on his hip, but there were just too many to remember.

An array of “Look how much you’ve grown!” even though you’ve been able to legally vote for years and are a fully formed, fully functioning adult, goaded you to leave your father’s side and head towards the bar. It was like you were only known as Tony’s daughter and not as a valid and serious member on the Avenger team.

Your short black dress did nothing to exacerbate people’s childish views of you, and it certainly left nothing to the eye as you rest your elbows on the bar top, leaning over slightly at the waist and waiting for the bartender to finish making a drink for a few people down the row.

With your eyes incrementing across every bottle in the row of liquor displayed behind the bar, you didn’t see or hear someone come up behind you. In fact, before you could catch a head of red hair sneaking behind you in the mirror that walled the bar, you felt a hand embrace one cheek of your ass, an upper body pressing hard against you to keep you still so that the hand could squeeze your flesh bruisingly hard.

Gasping at the flash of heat that embroidered your skin with their touch, your preliminary worries of being faced with one of Tony’s weird old friends faded away simply from your body recognizing who that hand belonged to. You straightened, hearing a feminine voice hum into your ear, and that was when your eyes focused on the woman through the mirror.

“Wanda,” you whispered, shimmying your way out of her grip, though her hand was insistent to stay locked on your ass.

She gave you no room between her body and the bar as you carefully turned around, and in fact, she took a step closer, conclusively trapping you and giving you no space to breathe.

Your friendship with Wanda had spanned a number of years, ever since she joined the team, but the new spark between you was fresh and exhilarating. It was only a few weeks ago that she approached you rather aggressively, and between several makeout sessions and a few rendezvous of fucking, she seemed to be rather obsessed with you. Luckily, she was beautiful and persuasive, keeping you just as hooked as she was.

You gave her a reprimanding yet gentle slap on her shoulder, trying your hardest to ignore her deep red suit and an off-centered wrinkle in her pants. “You can’t just come up and grab my ass in front of everyone—an in front of my dad!”

“He’s clueless,” Wanda whispered, her deep pink lips crawling into a smirk as she nodded towards where Tony was standing across the room, not even having to look at him to check his head. He was, indeed, blabbering to some woman, most likely showcasing some feat of his to her. “And you…” Wanda continued, her thick eyelashes fanning downwards as her gaze followed in that direction. She grabbed your hips and swung you closer to her. “You shouldn’t be wearing that.”

Her green eyes met yours again with a sultry look that plucked whatever remark you had loaded right out of your mouth. Rolling your eyes coyly, you moved away from her hold.

“I’m starting to think you’re just a teenage boy hiding in a grown woman’s body,” you joked, finally getting the bartender’s attention and ordering a drink while Wanda sat down on the barstool near you, ordering herself one too.

“You don’t appreciate the extra attention on your special day?” she asked as you hesitantly sat next to her, originally considering sitting a seat away so that she couldn’t reach you with her grabby hands.

“It’s not a special day,” you huffed as you crossed your legs, pulling the end of your short dress down to cover your thighs, but you caught Wanda already looking.

“Sure it is,” she enthusiastically said as your drinks were set in front of you. “It’s the day the most beautiful girl in the world was born.” She tilted her head and smirked, but there was an aching twinkle in her eye that proved her words were more than true.

“Shut up,” you dismissed her as you took a sip, but it was only because your cheeks were tingeing pink.

“Hey,” she quipped, reaching forward and placing her hand dangerously north on your thigh. Her fingertips landed right under the fabric of your dress, and it took everything in Wanda’s will to not glide her hand straight upwards. “Really, I’m serious. It’s your birthday, and I want to celebrate it.”

“We are celebrating,” you lulled, gesturing to the room filled with people and balloons and music. “This is a celebration!”

Wanda rolled her eyes and scooched closer to you, tilting her head and seductively whispering, “I have a present for you.”

Her grip on your thigh tightened, and you watched her tongue playfully line her top row of teeth before her lips broke into a devilish smile—she had something planned. You could hardly start to guess what her plans were because she was letting her hand slip farther up. She let one of her fingers press down on your flesh, targeting a bruise under the thin fabric that reminded you of your night with her a few nights ago. The bruise was still there on your thigh, and Wanda knew exactly where it was, and she was trying to tell you in your mind that she wanted more.

Before the message could fully conceptualize, someone suddenly stepped between the two of you. Wanda gasped and snatched her hand away, nearly falling off the stool as your father seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“Dad—” you gasped, suddenly sitting up straight and feeling awkward tension fill all the space in your lungs.

“Ladies,” he greeted, leaning up on his toes and looking between the two of you with a firm smile. You looked at Wanda past Tony and saw the terrified look on her face as Tony’s stare landed on her. He looked her up and down for a moment before snappily remarking, “So Wanda, tell me more about that terrorist group you were in. I am just so interested—”

“Dad!” you exclaimed, and he looked back at you innocently. You widened your eyes to tell him to fuck off, seeing Wanda grow more and more uncomfortable and guilty by the second.

“What? No anti-freedom organization talk? You guys are such party poopers.” The sarcasm in his voice was evident as he snatched your drink out of your hand and took a drink from it, taking a few slow steps backwards, his eyes trained on Wanda. The speed with which he backed away was so slow that it was a good ten seconds before he was finally out of proximity, rhythmically whispering a quick, “Don’t grope my daughter in front of me if you know what’s good for you,” before turning and speedwalking away with your drink still in his hand.

You let out the breath you were holding as Wanda only chuckled, knowing that Tony did approve of her but was nonetheless a protective albeit invasive father.

“You were saying?” you sighed, feeling aggravated at Tony’s need to insert himself in every situation with Wanda. A week ago, he tried to implement a three-feet distance rule between the both of you at dinners and meetings.

“Well,” Wanda chuckled, recovering from the awkwardness that Tony brought. It still didn’t kill her vibe apparently, because she smirked at you again and said, “I’m wondering if you want to see your present.”

“Okay…” you began, noticing that she wasn’t holding any box or bag. “Where is it?”

“It’s in your room.”

You paused, confused. You’d lived in the Avengers compound for a few years now, and surely Wanda wasn’t wanting to drag you all the way to the compound just to show you her present for you. “Wait, my room here?”

Wanda nodded and smiled deviously. “Come on.” Standing up, she grabbed your hand and tugged you off your seat, leaving you no choice but to scramble to catch your balance as she started dragging you up the stairs.

“Why did you put it in my teenager bedroom?” you questioned on the way up the stairs. “Did you go into my room when you first got here? Why couldn’t you just put it on the table with all the other ones? If it’s a ring for you to propose to me with, I’m telling you right now it’s gonna be a no.”

Opening the door to your room, Wanda placed her hand on your back and guided you in first. You looked around at the room you lived in as a teenager. The purple walls and boy band posters were so far gone from your current tastes that the sight made you wonder if you were ever sane in your teenagerhood. You heard the door close behind you which reminded you to search for a present, but the room looked completely normal with no present in sight. As you opened your mouth to ask what was going on, you felt Wanda press against your back.

Your breath stifled as Wanda’s hands rested on your waist and slid up your sides, traversing to your upper arms until they were resting on your shoulders, her fingers nestled under the thin straps of your dress.

Wanda’s lips came close to your ear, her warm breath fanning over the expanse of your neck as she whispered huskily, “Are you ready for your birthday present, babygirl?”

Unsure of what exactly she was referring to as your present, you nodded anyway, her voice putting you under her trance. Her hands slipped farther under the straps of fabric on your shoulders and held them, slowly pulling them apart so that she could let them slide down your shoulders. Pressing closer to you, she reached down to the already low neckline of your dress and pulled it down further until your bare breasts were out, her hands immediately cupping them as she moaned behind you.

“So soft,” Wanda whispered, consuming your neck with hungry kisses and setting your body ablaze with the way she groped and fondled your tits, her thumbs pressing over your hardening nipples as she massaged the tender flesh.

“Wanda,” you gasped, turning your head to the side so that she could access more of your neck to sloppily kiss, and you gasped softly when her teeth sunk into your skin a few times.

“Baby,” she groaned, pressing herself even closer against you. When she dug her hips right against your ass, your eyes, which had remained closed as you endured her gentle touches on your body, popped open as you felt something hard pressing against your ass from under the fabric of Wanda’s pants.

A warm shiver bloomed throughout your body as Wanda grunted and dug her crotch against you, her hands on your chest keeping you still. You now began to realize what your birthday present was as Wanda started moving you towards the bed. Shuffling towards it, your thighs hit the mattress and Wanda immediately pushed you over at the waist, your face hitting the sheets as a pair of hands groped your ass.

“I know how much you like to be fucked like a dirty slut,” Wanda’s labored voice spoke as she kneaded the flesh on your ass, keeping her groin right against the back of your thigh. “Are you?” She slowly peeled the fabric of your dress over your ass between her words, settling the end of your dress at your hips and leaving your behind completely bare. “My dirty slut?”

She punctuated her question with a slap to your cheek, and you squeaked and jumped forward, more warmth developing in the pit of your stomach. “Y-yes,” you bashfully admitted, earning a hum of approval from Wanda as she entertained herself with your ass.

“Good girl, you are my dirty slut,” she spoke as her hand roamed down to your thin panties, pushing them aside so that she could suddenly cup your slit, groaning as she felt how soaked you were. “Already so wet for me.” She swam her fingers through your folds, every movement earning a soft gasp from your lips.

She dragged her fingers down to your clit, finding it instantly and rubbing it for a moment before she slid her hand back up until she found your entrance, slipping two fingers in without warning.

Your hands grabbed at the sheets as you felt Wanda’s fingers explore you, your face pressed against the mattress as you reeled at the helpless position you were in which only added to the moisture that Wanda was exploring. She pushed her fingers all the way inside, pressing around all of your pulsing walls before she slid them out, and when she pushed them back in, there were three fingers this time, as well as resistance.

“So fucking tight,” Wanda groaned, pressing her hardness against you. “I’m gonna need to stretch you before you can take my cock.”

Her mere words were enough to get you squirming on the bed as the woman behind you violated your hole, stretching her three fingers out wide inside you and pumping them just like that. Whines filled the room as you squirmed on the bed, your noises only adding to Wanda’s desire as she grabbed at your ass and fingered you, nearly drooling in anticipating for when she could finally put her new strap inside you.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Wanda groaned, removing her fingers from you and wiping the wetness on your ass, leaving you empty and unfulfilled. Internally throbbing, you listened to the sound of a zipper and fabric shuffling before Wanda pressed against you again, and this time you felt the tip of her cock rest against your entrance.

“Wanda…” you breathed as you calculated how big it was just from the tip teasing your hole. It was definitely bigger than anything you’d ever taken.

“It’s your birthday, slut, and you’re gonna take my present like a grateful whore, right?” Wanda halfway mumbled through her heavy breaths of excitement. When you didn’t answer, she slapped your ass, earning a shriek and an incoherent noise of confirmation.

Wanda spat into her hand and rubbed it on your entrance before she grabbed both of your hips to steady you, easing her cock inside you. Your mouth fell open as her girthy size stretched you out around her, and the stinging pain made you hiss and grab a fistful of the sheets.

“That’s it,” Wanda gently whispered, spreading your cheeks open to help spread you more. “Take my cock like a good girl, baby.”

“Wanda, it hurts,” you whined as she stopped halfway in to let you breathe. You already felt so full, but Wanda continued to push further inside you.

“You can take it,” she firmly said, stifling a groan as she pushed herself all the way inside you until her hips were flat against your ass and her cock pressed against your cervix.

“Fuck,” you groaned, clenching your teeth at the pain as she dragged herself back out halfway and slowly thrust in again.

Wanda continued her slow thrusts for a while until you finally eased up, and she marked her new objective with a sudden snap of her hips which drove herself deep inside you and elicited a sharp moan from you, and then she started to thrust her hips wildly into you.

“Look at you, taking me so well,” she said as she leaned forward and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your upper body off the bed and arching your back which sent her cock hitting a new angle inside you.

She fucked you like that, bent over the bed, dress only covering your midsection, grabbing your hair, fondling your breasts and rubbing your clit, until your body had had enough of all the pleasurable sensations, and a coil of pressure formed in your stomach and threatened to snap at any moment.

“Wanda, I’m close,” you whined, and from the sounds Wanda was making behind you and the lack of pace in her wild thrusts, she was too.

“Cum for me, babygirl,” she grunted, leaning down and nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck and finding a patch of skin to bite as your orgasm unleashed simultaneously with hers.

For a moment, you didn’t realize Wanda reaching down and squeezing the base of her strap until you felt liquid gushing deep inside you, prolonging the aftereffects of your climax.

“Take my cum,” Wanda groaned as she kept short thrusts into you, making sure she was as deep as possible inside you as she filled you with her faux cum. “Take every drop, whore.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, feeling like you could cum again just from the feeling of her pounding her cum deep inside you.

Finally, her strap was emptied, and you both were coming down from your highs, Wanda panting against your neck and holding your breasts, resting her full weight on top of you. You panted under her, your walls twitching around her cock that lay still inside you.

After a few minutes, Wanda finally moved off you, slowly pulling out of you and finding her strap covered in a mix of your juices. Not only were your inner thighs a complete wet mess and your panties ruined, but a drop of Wanda’s cum was already starting to leak out of you. She reached forward and used her finger to push her cum back inside you, taking your legs and pressing them closed.

“Better keep your thighs shut for the rest of the night, baby,” she coyly said as she pulled your dress back down over your ass, helping you to stand up which proved hard because of how weak and shaky your legs felt and how sore you were between them.

As you stood, you could feel her cum move inside you and threaten to gush out. Wanda fixed the top of your dress for you and fixed your messy hair before wiping away some of your makeup that had smeared. As much as she tried to fix you up, it was still evident that you had just been fucked.

“Wanda,” you whined when you could feel wetness seeping out of you, trying to shut your thighs to keep it from coming out. “I can’t go back to the party.”

“Oh, but you have to, baby. It’s your own birthday party,” she said with an edge of amusement as she smirked deviously. This was her plan all along, to give you her little (big) present and then spend the rest of the party watching you miserably try to keep her cum inside you.

“You’re evil,” you whined, throwing yourself against her as she chuckled and wrapped her arms around you, letting her hands fall down to your ass and grab you. If you didn’t have a party to attend, she could have easily taken you again.

“Happy birthday, angel,” Wanda whispered with a kiss to the top of your head.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #marvel #lgbt #lesbian #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #top!wanda #dom!wanda

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callsign-rogueone · 7 months

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part of the family - d.a.

Dain Aetos x marked!reader The marked ones have been your only family since your parents were executed — until now. [request] words: 3.7k 🏷: IRON FLAME SPOILERS. she/her afab reader in an established (but secret) relationship with Dain, descriptions of fainting and loss of vision, talk of contraceptives, periods, and pregnancy, you love Dain but he still has his problems (you’ll see), featuring bestie Bodhi (who is the captain of this ship lmao) and older (foster) bro Garrick. went totally overboard on this one but like. girl dad dain 🥺🥰

You slip into the meeting quietly, pressing yourself against the wall -- most assembly gatherings are open to any who wish to attend, but you’d rather them not know you’re here.

Xaden stands before the elders, in the thick of an argument that is very obviously about Dain.

“He’s clearly here as a spy. Why else would he side with us?”

You can’t hold back your response. “Because I showed him everything. Resson, Liam, the wyvern, the fliers, the dagger drops… all of it.”

So much for staying incognito. All heads turn to you, different emotions on their faces. Xaden looks as if you’ve stabbed him. Two of the elders look like they want to kill you where you stand. You can’t quite read the look on Brennan’s face.

“I say we confine her with him,” one says, eyeing you with contempt. “She is clearly a danger to the movement, if she was willing to take such a risk.”

You step forward to address them properly. “It was a calculated risk,” you say carefully. “Of all the marked Tyrrish, I am the one he trusts most. And I was prepared to kill him, had he not changed his mind about us.”

“Does he know that?” Xaden asks.

“No,” you answer, ashamed. You still don’t know if you could have gone through with it — could have lifted the dagger you’d held behind your back while he watched the last year’s events through your eyes and struck true, stopped the heart of the man you love.

Acid rises in your throat at the thought. You swallow it back down, continuing. “He may have hurt us in the past, but he was not raised as we were. A hundred others we brought with us can attest to the history that he was taught, the side of the story he was led to believe until I showed him otherwise.”

The assembly is silent.

You lower your head, unable to look at them. “Lock me up if you wish, kill me if you must. All I ask is that you spare his life.”

Brennan is the first to soften — he knows Dain, regarded him as a younger brother for years. That and the fact that you’re willing to die for the boy is evidence enough for him. “Very well. He may join the rest of us and keep his position as wingleader.”

Nobody dares to disagree with him.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. You bow to them, taking your leave.

It’s easy enough to swipe a plate of food from the kitchens, carrying it up to the room Dain has been locked in all weekend. The guard posted outside sees the mark on your arm, letting you enter without question.

At least two people in this fortress still trust you.

Dain’s head snaps up when the door opens, visibly relaxing as he sees it’s you.

You set the plate aside, moving to embrace him for the first time in days.

“Hi, my love,” he says softly, wrapping his arms around you.

“Hi,” you sniff, eyes watering.

You had told the assembly that you were prepared to kill him, but now that you’re in his arms, you know that you could never do anything to hurt him, no matter what he had decided.

Your tears are falling steadily now — you’ve cried nearly every day these last few weeks, constantly overwhelmed with emotion. You climb into his lap, needing him close.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothes, resting his hand on the side of your neck and stroking his thumb over your pulse. This is the closest he’ll come to touching your face since the night he discovered his signet — save for the other day, when you’d taken his hand in yours and pressed it to your cheek, showing him everything.

You’d cracked open your heart for him, spread it onto the table and let him see it all, and he had stood and watched, seen the other side of the story. It had hurt him then, to realize that you’d hidden all of this from him for almost two years, but the warm saltwater dripping onto his hand had snapped him out of it quickly.

He wants to dry your tears again now, to brush them away with a gentle sweep of his finger, but he won’t cross that line with you again. He can’t.

“I love you,” he says softly.

“I love you too,” you answer, rubbing at your eyes with the back of your hand.

He shushes you softly, holding you closer. There’s a moment of calm quiet, the two of you just breathing each other in.

“I told them,” you say in a cracked whisper, unable to keep it from him any longer. “I told the assembly that I showed you everything.”

His eyes widen. “Why did you…?”

“I couldn’t stand silent while they talked about you that way. I convinced them that you are truly our ally, that it wasn’t your fault that you were taught only one side of the story.”

He leans down to rest his forehead against yours, your noses brushing. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you reply. “For doing the right thing. I don’t think I could have bared to leave without you.”

He smiles softly. “I would follow you anywhere, my love.”

-------------------------------------------------------

You are so sick of this hike, and you aren’t even halfway done. For team-building, the leadership had said. Yeah, right. You feel like you’ve been herding a pack of wild animals all morning.

“If we press on for twenty minutes, there’s another flat section,” Bodhi explains, showing you the map that Brennan had given you.

You can’t hear the rest of his explanation through the ringing in your ears, the map blurring at the edges. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision, but it’s no use — the tiny black spots won’t go away.

“Hey,” Bodhi prods, waving a hand, “are you hearing me?”

“Give me a minute,” you pant, reaching out to touch the wall of rock behind you. Your legs feel too heavy, your upper body too light — your heart is racing, but the beats feel too shallow.

Something is wrong.

“You should sit,” he and your dragon offer at once.

You shift your left leg, moving to lower yourself to the ground, and the black spots grow until you can’t see anything. You lose the last of your balance, crumpling into the dirt.

Bodhi stops your head from hitting the rocks just in time.

-------------------------------------------------------

You don’t remember how you got here, nor much of the physical exam; don’t know if it took five minutes or an hour, but the healer is incredibly gentle with you; speaking softly, giving you water to drink and medicine to take, encouraging you to rest.

You shut your eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to sleep, not when the rest of your friends are still out climbing that mountain, crossing a trail littered with death traps.

“They’re doing just fine,” Cosa soothes. “They’ll be back faster if you sleep.”

You feel much better when you wake up.

The sun is starting to set. You must have been out for hours.

The healer comes back a few minutes later with Dain in tow. You reach for him instantly, relieved to see him in one piece. He stands at the side of the bed, wrapping an arm around you and letting you lean into his side.

“It could be a circulation issue, but since it hasn’t happened before, I’d say it was likely just dehydration and overexertion,” the healer explains.

That’s probably it. You were too busy making sure your section was moving quickly enough, that they were avoiding the traps and staying out of trouble. You’d spent your two rest breaks preventing the riders and fliers from coming to blows, having to physically restrain one of the first-years. Your jaw still aches from where you’d taken an elbow to the face in the process.

“There’s another thing,” she says, hesitating as she looks between you and Dain, appearing to debate if she can say this in front of him -- whatever it is, it clearly isn’t good.

Dain takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and looking up at her, waiting.

You nod in permission.

She overcomes her nerves, spitting it out. “You’re… expecting.”

The air in the room stills completely as you take in the information, the soft tick of the clock on the wall the only indication that time hasn’t frozen solid.

“I’ll give you two a minute,” she says quietly, darting out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

You still haven’t moved. You’ve forgotten how to speak.

“Breathe, love,” Dain soothes, rubbing your back. The warmth of his hand brings you out of your stunned haze.

You take in a lungful of air, letting it out slowly.

There’s no denying it, no pleading innocence or wondering how this could have possibly happened — it makes total sense, even through your dull headache and the fog still clouding your mind.

You’ve spent two nights a week in his bed for the last year and a half, and you haven’t had one cup of contraceptive tea since you arrived at Riorson house, or in the month before that either — you’d been out in the field every weekend for your third-year classes.

You’d missed a period or two, but you had chalked it up to the stress of your responsibilities as a section leader and the final straws that had led half the quadrant to desert with you. It would definitely not have been the first time that Basgiath had messed with your cycle; hardly any of the girls in your year got their period until after Threshing.

“Talk to me,” Dain coaxes quietly, looking at you with softness in his eyes.

“Why are you not freaking out right now?” You ask after a moment.

He manages a soft laugh. “I am, but I know you are too, and I’m more worried about you right now.”

You blow out a breath. “I don’t know how we’re gonna do this. None of our friends have kids. My parents are dead, and yours…”

“Have probably already disowned me for being here,” he finishes for you, shrugging, but you can tell it hurts.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, guilt tugging at you. Had he stayed behind, he would have been able to keep them, he’d still have the thing you’ve desired most for six years now.

But then you’d be completely alone in raising this child.

The thought sends a sharp spike of fear into your chest. You’ve already lost so many friends in your two years at Basgiath, and you’re headed straight for a war, fighting against dark magic that none of you really understand. What if Dain doesn’t make it through?

“We’ll figure it out,” he reassures you, “together.”

-------------------------------------------------------

Dain doesn’t leave your side all night, keeping one hand on you whenever he can. He treats you like a princess, going so far as to kneel down to lace your boots for you in the morning, despite your quiet insistence that you could do it yourself.

You’re prepared to resume your usual routine; strict professionalism by day, gentle words and soft touches after dark, but he takes your hand, walking down the hall with you to the mess for breakfast.

You get shocked looks from a few of your classmates, but it’s nice being able to be seen with him for once instead of keeping the two of you a secret. Not that you’d be able to for very much longer, anyway — two is quickly going to become three.

It takes all of five minutes for your friends to spot you.

“I called it!” Bodhi exclaims, elbowing Imogen.

“I already knew,” Imogen says, unamused.

You’re deathly still, heart racing.

Dain rests a hand on your lower back as he speaks. “Knew what?”

“About you two hooking up. Do you have any idea how many times you idiots have shown up to morning formation with your shoes untied, wearing each other’s knives?”

You laugh at her bluntness — you thought you’d been slick, always arriving to class five minutes apart and from different directions, avoiding eye contact at all costs… evidently not.

“You two look good together,” Bodhi decides. “It’s weird, but it’s cute.”

You sigh in relief. Bodhi is the one that you knew you could count on to be nice about this; the one you’ve wanted to tell about you and Dain for months now.

Dain blinks. “Why are you guys being so chill right now?”

“Do you not want me to be chill?” Imogen challenges, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I just… I was expecting the shovel talk. You know, the whole “I’ve got a sword and a shovel and I know how to use both” thing?”

“Oh, that’s Garrick’s job,” she supplies, almost too cheerfully. “And I think he’ll be a little more detailed than that.”

Dain pales, realizing that your foster brother likely won’t be as calm about this as your friends — and that there’s another very important thing that you’ll have to tell him, too.

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll be there to hold him back.”

Imogen nearly gags at the sight, but straightens her face quickly enough. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” you respond, smiling for the first time this week.

Maybe this won’t go as terribly as you’d thought.

-------------------------------------------------------

Word travels fast in the rider’s quadrant.

Garrick approaches you in the main hall that afternoon.

You begin the speech you’d rehearsed in your head all morning. “I need to talk to you about something. I-”

He raises a hand, and you fall silent. “Bo already told me, and he made sure I was unarmed for this conversation.”

You let out a sigh of relief — he’s missing his two longswords and the array of daggers he normally keeps strapped to his body.

If you survive the next seven months, you’ll name Bodhi the kid’s godfather for this act alone.

You still place yourself in front of Dain as subtly as you can as Garrick starts a speech of his own.

“You’re an adult, and you can make your own decisions. It’s not my place to tell you what to do off the battlefield. Even if I did, I know you wouldn’t hear it. You’ve always been your own person; it’s one of the things I admire about you.”

You’re actually touched.

“Do you love him?” He asks, looking over at the wingleader, who has remained uncharacteristically silent, probably too terrified to speak.

“I do,” you answer, smiling softly. “I have for two years now.”

Garrick believes you.

It’s clear that the words pain him, but he says them anyway; “Welcome to the family, Aetos.”

Dain extends a hand to shake. “Thank you.”

Garrick takes it, gripping it hard enough to hurt as he tugs him forward, clapping his other hand onto the younger man’s shoulder. “Know that if you ever do anything to hurt her, you’ll be answering to me and me alone.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dain says, and the Lieutenant knows that he means it.

Garrick leaves before you can work up the courage to tell him the other news.

-------------------------------------------------------

Dozens of riders pass by, ready to head to the flight field and assume their positions — but Dain keeps you locked in place.

“You really expect me to stand idle while you and all of our friends fight for their lives? I should be out there with them!” You huff. You’re ready to fight, fully dressed and heavily armed, and you couldn’t give a damn what he thinks.

“Absolutely not,” Dain says. “I won’t let you risk it.”

You bristle. “That isn’t your call, and you know it!”

“What are you two bickering about at this hour?” Garrick asks, one eyebrow raised.

You cross your arms over your chest, looking at your brother like a child tattling to their schoolteacher. “Please explain to the wingleader that we’re at war, and that he can’t just bench me whenever he feels like it. I’m a grown woman, and I can decide what is and isn’t safe for myself.”

“But it isn’t just you we’re talking about here,” Dain says quietly, genuine hurt in his voice.

You’re silent. Dain has a point — you don’t want to admit it, but he has a point.

Garrick doesn’t follow. “What is he going on about?”

Dain looks at you, standing his ground. “If you won’t tell him, I will.”

Your heart drops. Is he really going to force your hand here?

You have to tell Garrick eventually — you can’t keep this a secret much longer. You decide to rip the bandage off, turning to face your foster brother, though you can’t seem to raise your voice above a whisper as you speak. “Please don’t freak out, but…”

His eyes drop to the hand you have placed over your stomach, a nervous habit you’ve developed in the last week, and he puts it together before you can say the words aloud, lunging toward Dain — he’s going to kill him.

You jump between them, wrapping your arms around Garrick tightly and planting your feet to the floor, pushing him back.

He relaxes at your touch, unfolding the fist that was aimed for Dain’s jaw and resting his hand flat on your back; he could never hurt you, especially not now.

“Please don’t be mad at him,” you say into his shoulder, your eyes still squeezed shut. “This is as much my fault as it is his. We’re both adults, we knew that this could happen, but we acted anyway, and now we’re facing the consequences, together.”

Dain nods in agreement behind you. “I have every intention of marrying your sister and spending the rest of my life with her after this is over.”

You turn back to look at him, stunned.

He's never told you that before. You’d never discussed life beyond graduation — had lost too many of your friends over the years to make any promises about the future, and there was never any guarantee that you’d be stationed together after graduating, either.

“If she’ll have me, that is,” he adds, nervous.

You nod, letting go of Garrick and moving to hug Dain, hiding your face in his neck.

“Are you… crying?” Garrick asks.

“Of course I’m crying,” you sniff. “It’s the hormones.”

Dain laughs, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple. “I love you, and I’m sorry for overreacting. If you want to fight with us, I won’t stop you.”

“Love you too,” you say quietly.

“Holy shit,” Bodhi breathes from across the room. “I’m gonna be an uncle?”

Oh, gods.

“Congratulations,” he grins at you before running off. “Hey guys! Guess what?”

Three seconds pass, and then there’s a loud “What the fuck?” from down the hall — that can only be Imogen.

You laugh through your tears as the ruckus continues, the rest of the marked ones reacting to the news one by one.

“At least we won’t have to tell everyone ourselves,” Dain jokes, still holding you. “Bodhi will have informed the entire army by noon.”

Garrick shakes his head, laughing too, but he sobers up quickly enough. “The circumstances may be shitty, but this kid is going to have two dozen aunts and uncles who will protect them with their life.”

“And a riot of dragons,” Cosa adds. “We will care for your young like one of ours.”

Dain is right -- you’ll figure this out together; all of you.

-------------------------------------------------------

“A perfect baby girl,” the older of the two healers tells you, smiling warmly.

You sigh in relief, resting back against the pillows and loosening your grip on Dain’s hand.

He presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead, murmuring soft praises; how strong you are, how amazing you were…

“Hi, pretty girl,” the healer coos down at her. “Let’s meet mom and dad, hm?”

It finally sets in for both of you, that you two are mom and dad now — you’re parents.

She slowly transfers the babe into your arms. You’ve never held anything this carefully in your life; afraid to move or breathe, utterly silent.

A tiny hand wiggles free from the blanket, fingers grasping at the air.

“She’s so little,” Dain whispers in awe, extending a finger. She’s quick to wrap her hand around it, latching on to him.

He looks like he’s going to cry.

“She’s not marked,” you breathe.

You’re the first of the marked ones to have a child of your own, and while you knew it was probably irrational, your biggest worry over the last six months — aside from the venin and wyvern or anything terrible happening to you or your friends — was that you would somehow pass down your relic to her, that she would live her whole life with others instantly assuming the worst of her.

“She’s free to be whatever she wants to be,” Dain says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “She won’t be forced into conscription like we were.”

You still haven’t decided on a name -- until now.

“Saoirse Álainn,” you say softly. “It means beautiful freedom, in the old language.”

“Saoirse Álainn,” he repeats, still gazing down at her. “I like that.”

She’s beautiful indeed — the best of both of you; the gentle warmth of her father’s skin and a dusting of his dark brown hair, your eyes and nose.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, “for showing me that what I’d been taught was wrong, and giving me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.”

You can’t help but melt into him, the exhaustion finally starting to overtake you. It’s been a long night — you’d woken up around two in the morning and realized what was happening, quickly rousing Dain, who carried you down here. It’s almost noon now, soft June sun filtering through the drapes.

“I got her. You should sleep.”

He takes Saorise from you gently, careful to support her head like the healers had taught you as he cradles her in his arms.

The tiny girl makes a soft sound of complaint at the movement, but quickly relaxes, content to fall asleep against his chest.

“Get some rest, my girls,” he whispers. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

#dain aetos #dain aetos x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine

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hoppityhopster23 · 4 months

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Facts about Frederick VI that live rent free in my head (that I simply must share) ft. a super sleepy Hopster

One of my current interests is a Danish King by the name of Frederick VI. I'm currently really tired, but really wanting to post about him. so this wont be as organized as i normally do. i'll try to avoid making it a wall of words, but this is probably going to be a word vomit.

Family/Romantic Life

this guy was a pretty caring dad, and I love that for him. This man fathered. generally a great dad. dare I say the epitome of a good dad from the time. especially given his less-than-good start in life.

his romantic life was one hell of a ride. like- he had a long-time mistress (of like- 30 years) with whom he would have an affair. but, during the Congress of Vienna, he cheated on both his wife and his long-time mistress with another woman. his mistress, Rikke, then cheated on him. That led to ever more soap opera-like stuff happening.

Man not only had legitimate (2) and illegitimate (5?) kids but took on another nine kids. Well, some of them were adults at the time, but still. basically, when his brother-in-law (a duke) died, he and a friend of said duke became the legal guardians of said kiddos. and from the sounds of it, it wasn't just throwing money at them. he actually interacted with them to a certain extent.

to piggyback on no. 3, he had agreed with his sister-in-law that one of the boys, Christian, would go to Copenhagen and attend the land cadet academy. Christian would go to Copenhagen one year after the decision. he didn't live with the monarch but did spend a fair amount of time with them. it is said the king was fond of him. unbeknownst to all of them, Christian would turn out to be Christian IX, the father-in-law of Europe.

he was a parsimonious guy, at least when it came to himself. he would wear his clothing until they were worn out. only then did he get a new one? two of his desks, both his personal one and the one for his aide are simplistic, and so are his things in general. even his rolling chair- which is in Fredericksborg castle, is worn out looking. hell- what I'm pretty sure was his own bed was nothing but an Iron camp bed! granted, he only spent a few days a week in it, as he was staying with his mistress. or his wife.

regarding his mistresses, he took really good care of them. I'm only uncertain about one- which is the French one he had at some point, which did produce a daughter. For the other two, however, it's pretty clear. the one woman he met in Vienna, Caroline Seufert, was granted a large pension from him. his long-time mistress, Rikke Dannemand, was given an apartment near him, and enough money to live a bourgeoise life. That was a far cry from Rikke's former life in Nyboder. My only problem with this was the sheer age gap between them. with Rikke, there was a 22-year age gap. with Seufert, it was 29 years. both women were under twenty when all of this started.

Political

he tended to not threaten people's lives. there was a case where one of the members of the chancellery, Anders Sandø Ørsted, who was a prominent critic of Frederick, and would often write about such criticisms. instead of exiling, punishing, or hell- even executing the guy, he just gave him the choice of his job or his pen. Ørsted chose his job.

was a gruff man (likely due to his upbringing) but quite generous with his people. notably, some of the most realistic small gifts I've seen in assorted Danish museums were given by him. For example, there is a little golden snuff box sitting in the National Museum of Denmark that he had given to somebody as a reward. It is small, intricate, and made of gold. but most of all, it was usable.

His reaction to the July Revolution was good. the November after it, constitutions were made for Schleswig and the Kingdom of Denmark- but the absolute monarchy was still in place. on top of that, 4 Advisory assemblies were created. One for each major region of Denmark. this was a very primitive version of what was desired (and what would come not long after) as the king still appointed a number of the members, and only 3% of the population got the right to vote.

He tended to overwork himself. sometimes until he got sick (like during the Vienna congress). he died still working. he also had the belief that no matter was too small for the king. this meant that he stuck his nose into a lot of paperwork he didn't necessarily need to worry about. this tended to elongate the completion of paperwork, but it did make him more aware of what was going on in the country, so there was some benefit.

Other

he built one of the finest gardens I have ever strolled in in Copenhagen. If you are on any servers with me, there's a 99% chance you've seen the pictures.

It's obvious that his strongest gene was his hair. In every portrait I've seen of his children, they're blonde. like- super blonde.

The man was stubborn as hell, not wanting to change too much. this tended to rear its ugly head from time to time, but he wasn't too stubborn to not kind of acknowledge his mistakes.

that was a word vomit... I do apologize. but thats all my sleepy brain can think of. I'll likely have more when i wake up tomorrow. and if i actually find the time, I can go into more detail. I just need to check the copyrights on a few of the books i have.

#personal #historical #napoleonic wars #19th century #frederick vi

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keerysfreckles · 2 years

Text

saving you - peter parker

pairing: tom!peter x stark!reader

warnings: use of y/n, she/her, swearing, mentions of blood and fighting (scenes used from endgame)

a/n: i love peter parker sm i just HAD to write another blurb (also for my bexi boo mwah)

y/n never thought she'd fight a giant purple alien from space, let alone fighting him twice. five years ago she was on titan fighting the alien, then she blipped, alongside half of the world.

five years later she's on the same planet fighting the same purple asshole.

herself and others all came out of different sized portals created by doctor strange. y/n walked out with peter parker, her best friend. she looked around, seeing the army of avengers, ready to fight the battle.

her and peter, and everyone else, got in their positions as they heard steve, "avengers. assemble."

and with those two words, the team of most likely one hundred people ran towards thanos' army.

sam and valkyrie ended up in the sky at some point during the battle, while everyone else mostly stayed on the ground. scott turned huge again since the fight in germany, and immediately started stomping on the evil aliens.

the rest of the avengers started fighting the aliens that remained on the ground. bucky snd rocket shooting them together, with groot branching his arms through the aliens' bodies.

y/n and peter never left each others side as they ran towards the battle. the avengers' goal was to get tony's gaunlet away from thanos once it had all six infinity stones in it. all they had to do was get thanos' gaunlet, easy.

ten minutes pass and most of the avengers are injured while lying on the ground, the only few remaining are tony, steve, thor, peter, y/n, clint, valkyrie and pepper.

dealing with the team of eight they have, they create a plan to beat thanos.

"y/n, sweetheart i know you can fight and i know you can fight well," tony starts, placing his hands on his daughters shoulders, "but i need you to run away, i don't want you anywhere near here when we get the stones, capisce?"

a concerned look shows up on y/n's face, "what? dad, no, i'm not just leaving you guys here. let me he-"

y/n got cut off by tony hugging her, followed by pepper hugging her as well.

the family of three backed up from each other. tony looked back to the rest of the remaining avengers, giving y/n the signal to walk away.

yes, she was going to walk away from the problem, but as she saw her father, and peter start running towards thanos she knew she couldn't just watch.

taking out the ninja stars she has in her suit, she throws them at thanos' wrist to try and get his gaunlet off.

"what- y/n! i told you to run!" tony yells from inside his suit, while blasting thanos.

"i told you, i'm not just leaving you guys!" y/n yells.

tony backs away slightly, before finding clint with the red iron man gauntlet. tony takes it from him and passes it to peter. "peter run!" tony yells before going back to fight with thanos.

y/n watches as peter runs from thanos with her dad's gaunlet.

peter runs as fast as he can before he gets knocked down into a pile of rubble. a giant blue and yellow beam comes down in front of him.

"hi- hello," peter stutters to the blonde woman, "i'm peter parker."

"well peter parker," the woman starts, "you have something for me?"

peter nods as he hands her tony's gaunlet before she flies off.

peter stands up from the rubble, and watches in shock as y/n is on thanos' shoulders trying to fight him.

"y/n!" he yells as he watches thanos throw the poor girl at least 100 yards away. peter immediately runs after to look for her, "um- mr. stark, sir i'm going to try and find y/n."

"oh you better find my daughter alive parker," tony grumbles into the teams shared intercoms.

finally seeing the sight of y/n rolled over onto her side, holding her stomach, peter removes the nano-tech mask from his face.

he rolls y/n over to see the girl with dust and small marks of blood on her face. "hey, hey y/n you gotta wake up. your dad's gonna kill me if you don't," peter laughs, shaking the girl.

"cmon, please wake up."

tears brim peter's eyes, seeing the girl he's fallen in love with get hurt right in front of his eyes.

the only thought going through the boys mind was that he never got to tell her how he felt.

as he talked on his com, his voice was weak. "mr- mr stark i need help! she isn't waking up!"

tony's heart rate drops. disregarding the giant purple alien in front of him, he flies over to where he saw peter run off to. he flies down to the ground to be met with an unconscious y/n in peter's arms.

"friday, read y/n's vitals," tony instructs his ai.

"vitals steady. oxegyn decreased 20%. heartbeat decreased 10%."

"shit," tony mumbles. "you stay with her kid, i have to beat this asshole," he gestures back to thanos. "keep her alive!" tony yells as he flies back to the main fight going on.

peter looks down at y/n again, still with tears threatening to spill over. "y/n," his voice cracks, "please don't leave me."

the tears mentioned before finally spill, leaving peter's cheeks hot and lips trembling. he leans down and presses his lips to hers, while holding her jaw in his hand.

"please, please, please," peter kept mumbling against her lips, tears not decreasing in pace.

peter notices y/n start breathing heavier, he starts shaking her again. "hey, hey cmon, y.n wake up. i cant lose you, i just can't y/n."

peter sighs, "i love you."

y/n starts coughing slightly, before rolling over onto her hands and knees and coughing more than before.

peter immediately starts rubbing his hand up and down her back, "hey, thatta girl," he laughs slightly, glad she's okay, "cough it all up."

"oh my god," y/n gasps, before sitting on her knees on the ground.

"are you okay?" peter asks, keeping his hand on her lower back. y/n only nods, while peter places a kiss on the top of the girls head.

"i love you too," y/n whispers after leaning her head against peter's shoulder.

breaking away from each other, the two teenagers turn around to see a giant multicolored beam shoot up into the sky, yet the two didn't see thanos with the gaunlet at all.

y/n gasps lightly, before running to where the others were. peter followed after, "no, no, no," y/n keeps mumbling to herself as they got closer to the rest of the team.

peter got in front of y/n, incase anything was a threat to them. y/n couldn't see what was going on, but she saw the group surrounding someone lying on the floor.

she looked around, not seeing her father anywhere. a thousand thoughts flooded the girls' mind.

she heard peter talk to someone, but his words were muffled as her brain wouldn't let her think the worst possible solution happened.

pepper holds peter in her arms, comforing the boy, which left a small pathway for y/n to go through.

"dad," y/n whispers, jogging to her father who was leaning against a piece of a broken ship. "dad hey, cmon, get up. we have to go back home."

y/n grabs his hand as she starts crying, she couldn't hold her tears back any longer.

tony looks up at his daughter weakly before placing his other hand on the side of her face, "tell parker he better take good care of you," tony says weakly, making y/n nod and smile softly.

tony leans up with the rest of the energy he has left and kisses y/n's cheek. y/n and the rest of the group watch as tony leans back against the broken ship, and see his arc reactor light dim.

"no, no, no, no," y/n keeps mumbling tapping on the arc reactor.

her heart drops when the light fully turns off. everything around her goes quiet as she leans her forehead on her fathers chest.

this was it. she'd never see him again. never talk to him again. never tell him how her first day of senior year was. never tell him how amazing her first date with peter went. nothing.

pepper lets go of peter to go bid tony a final goodbye. peter helps y/n up off of her father and immediately holds her head to his own chest.

he tries his best to calm her down by cooing to her.

"shhh."

"it'll all be okay."

"you're so strong, you're going to get through this."

"i'll always be here for you."

"i'll always protect you y/n."

y/n lifts her head to look peter in the eyes. "you better not leave me parker," y/n kisses his cheek.

"never in a million years," the boy replies, holding the girl close to him, kissing the top of her head again.

#peter parker #tom holland peter parker #tom holland #marvel #spiderman #the avengers #marvel studios #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader

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