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inneedofsupervision · 6 months

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No Spilling Secrets

Spiderman/Avengers fanfic: Lee Peter / Ler Clint, Sam & Bucky

I kinda live for the idea of there being a thin line of Peter being a genius and a clumsy baby. This is probably the siliest fanfic I've ever written, but I wanted it to be less sober. Please let me know what you think.

Summary: It was supposed to be a chill and fun Tuesday afternoon, testing the new web-shooters. Well, until Peter found himself pulling the dumbest stunt of his sixteen-year short life apart from getting bitten by a radioactive spider.

Read on Ao3

"Friday, what are the risks of this blowing up on me?"

"The risks of the web shooters malfunctioning sits at 27%, Peter."

Peter carries a smug grin as he fastens the devices around his wrists, waiting for the click that tells him they are locked in place.

"Good thing 27 is my lucky number."

"Mr. Stark said to wait until he is back from his meeting-"

"Friday, come on," interrupts Peter with a whine. "I'm Spiderman. I use them every day. I'll have it under control, promise."

There is a short silence before Friday answers, sounding as unpleased as an AI can sound. "Mr. Stark will be informed as soon as you're safety is not warranted, Peter."

"Thank you, Friday! Couldn't ask for more," answers Peter with a bright grin. He had waited all day to test the new web shooters, annoying MJ as he wouldn't stop talking about it with Ned at lunch. He also didn't bother throwing the suit on, coming directly from the lab to the training grounds. As soon as the doors close behind him, Peter doesn't waste more time and jogs over to the wall that lies on the opposite. A few meters before reaching it, he speeds up and jumps. He crawls upwards with skilled movements.

"Let's see how these babies work."

With those words, Peter pushes himself from the wall and lets his arm shoot forward. A string of spiderwebs flings against one of the ceiling beams, hitting it with scary accuracy. Peter's fingers close around the web, and he uses the momentum to swing through the air. He lands with practiced ease on the ceiling beam at the other end of the gym, glancing down at his wrists with a thoughtful look. "The tensile strength is not bad, but I thought the elasticity would be better. Friday, can you please note that I have to look into that?"

"Noted, Peter."

"Thanks, Fri."

He continues testing the limits of the new webs by swinging around and jumping from high places to get a feeling for the strings' consistency, leaving it to Friday to take notes as he voices out his thoughts. Peter was about to climb down, satisfied with the information he had collected when something caught his eye. He squints at the ceiling near the bracing where the beam he stands on mends into the roof.

"Is that an arrow?"

As he steps closer, his suspicion is confirmed. The thing hanging from the ceiling is indeed one of Hawkeye's arrows. "How does no one notice that thing is still here?", wonders the teen loudly. It wasn't like Clint to leave his stuff lying around. Or, stuck in the ceiling in this case.

He stood on his tiptoes and reached for the shaft of the arrow, his inhuman sense of balance the only measure to keep the teen from tumbling down and breaking his neck.

"I recommend being careful, Peter. Those are one of Mr. Barton's new smoke-"

Peter didn't get the last few words as his fingers closed around the arrow, a winning grin growing as he gave the weapon a strong pull. The second his spidey sense goes off, he already holds one part of the arrow in his hands and stumbles when the air around him fills with a thick smock. He trips backward, trying hastily to get out of the space that fills with murky haze. Standing on nothing more than a two-inch wide metal pole, his next step back ends with his foot hitting nothing but thin air. With a surprised shout ripping from his mouth, the boy fell backward. Peter's arms flail around uselessly. In his panic, he blindly shoots a web upwards with both web shooters, praying that one of them would hit to keep him from busting his head. Both strings succeeded at sticking but in the most inconvenient way possible. In the chaos of the situation, Peter's aim had been off, causing the webs to ravel together as they lay diagonally on top of each other, sticking together as soon as they came in contact. Peter feels sick as the movement of his fall causes him to circle around like a spinning top, putting the ability of his stomach to keep his lunch to the test.

He ended up coming to a halt a few centimeters over the ground, dangling just above the floor, and although he knew his injuries would have healed quickly, he was more than happy to not have hit the ground, because that fall would have hurt like a bitch. To his luck, he had grabbed the web quick enough to avoid popping a shoulder, but with the newly developed webbing being more sticky and drying later than anticipated, he found himself stuck with bound wrists.

Peter's mouth stands open as he openly gapes, blinking a couple of times as the last few seconds start closing up on him before a low whine emits from the depths of his throat, heat rushing into his face.

"Holy frick. That was one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to me."

"Should I inform Mr. Stark?"

"Oh my God, are you nuts- ehm, I mean, no. Please don't. That's- that is really not necessary, Fri."

"If you say so, Peter."

He glances up at his wrists, assessing the situation. The web was enclosing his wrists completely, only his fingers sticking out of the gooey mess that hangs over his head. There was a solvent inside the web shooters, but he couldn't reach the trigger to spray it, a thick layer of web fluid lying on top. Peter puffs his cheeks before putting all his strength into his arms, trying to bust through the net. His face grew red with the force he put into his arms only to sack together in defeat.

Maybe the new webs are a tiny bit stronger than anticipated. Spiderman usually had no problem ripping his webs up, but dangling in the air and having his wrists bound at an awkward angle, Peter had a difficul time concentrating enough power to push through the strings. Peter throws a longing look at his backpack. If he could only get his hands on it. He always had a small amount of solvent in there for emergencies.

Peter lets out a sigh.

He needs help.

But not from Mr. Stark. Anyone but Mr. Stark. He wasn't ready for that level of embarrassment to hit on a simple Tuesday afternoon.

"Friday, can you ask Bruce if he has some time?"

"Dr. Banner is currently not in the tower. Would you like me to call him?"

"No, no thanks. What about Natasha?"

"Ms. Romanoff is currently not available."

Okay, now Peter realizes he does have a bit of a problem. While glancing up at his hands and testing again but without success the hold on his wrists, he contemplates how he could get out of this situation. Maybe if he manages to swing his feet upwards and wrap his legs around the string, he might manage to climb back up.

"Wow, how did the spider end up caught in his own web?"

Peter's eyes dart to the person who stands leaning relaxed at the doorframe of the gym, eyebrows raised in silent amusement.

"Clint, can you please help me?"

There was a fifty percent chance to get out of this unharmed if Peter played it right. He puts on the most hopeful and pitiful expression he can muster, silently begging the archer to show mercy. The corner of Clint's lip curls into a smirk that leaves Peter wondering if he did wrong in asking Clint to help out everyone. Not that he had much variety to choose from.

"Those are some cute puppy dog eyes you've got there, kid," comments the man as he walks over to Peter. "Any idea how to get you out?"

"There is some solvent in my backpack."

Clint turns and collects the bag. He pulls it open and roams through it while stepping back to Peter.

"How did you even end up like that?" the archer asks before pulling a small vial from the back and showing it to the dangling teen, who nods in confirmation. At the question, Peter pulls a grimace.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Clint looks up from the vial, a spark of interest glinting in his eyes. Catching on Clint's expression, Peter feels dread settling into the pit of his stomach. That had been the wrong answer.

"You don't want to talk about it?" asks Clint, and Peter keeps himself from whining as he watches the man putting the backpack down instead of helping him get the web off. The archer levels him with a knowing smirk, slipping the vial into his back pocket before crossing his arms over his chest. Peter knew that expression. He was 50% fucked.

"Care to explain what you mean by that?"

Peter didn't like how Clint's smile grew into a shit-eating grin as he tried pulling out an acceptable answer without adding fuel to the fire.

"Ehm, it's not that interesting, really. I wouldn't want to bother you with that story."

"I bet it was embarrassing," cuts Clint off, shifting his weight onto his right leg as he leans back, not looking like he's planning to help Peter anytime soon.

"Like I said, I'd rather not talk about it," mumbles Peter, avoiding the man's eyes. How the heck is he supposed to get out of this?

Clint was clearly enjoying this.

"I'll help you if you tell me what happened."

Yeah, no. Peter won't serve Clint high-class premium blackmail material of himself on a silver plate, thank you very much. Sensing the teen wouldn't spill, Clint let his hands fall as he stepped towards the teen, grin growing mischievous in a way that left the hairs on Peter's neck turn straight.

"Peter, I'm a trained spy and assassin. I have ways to make people talk. Now, do you want to tell me how you ended up like this?"

Peter knew Clint wouldn't hurt him, but the threat of what was about to come sent a shiver down his spine.

"Threatening teenagers now? That's low even for you, Barton," says Peter and tries to play the awful nervousness that spreads inside of him off, but Clint's trained eyes could read his unease like an open book. There was a reason Peter wears a mask when he fights. He sucks at keeping a straight face.

Clint chuckles before giving Peter a light push to the chest. The teen bites his lips as the spy's move acts like a reminder of the situation he's currently in, swinging helplessly back and forth, feet still hovering inches over the gym floor. His swinging stops with Clint grabbing the front of his shirt, keeping him from moving and simultaneously pulling him closer, bringing his mouth near his ear.

"Spill, little Spider," he whispers with a mock-threatening voice, but that was still enough to make Peter feel more than slightly on the edge. But he wouldn't back down now, not when the last shreds of his dignity are at stake.

"Over my dead body."

"Oh, Petey-pie," taunts Clint as he lets go of Peter's shirt, causing the teen to swing back. "I'll make you talk. Just you wait."

Peter eyes the man warily, who stretches his hand out, pressing it flat against his stretched-out midriff. He is left with no time to wonder what the archer was playing at when the fingers of the hand twitch suddenly, digging lightly into the flesh of his stomach. The movement makes him flinch violently, not expecting the ticklish spark shooting through his middle. His eyes dart up, ready to tell Clint to take his hand from him when he catches the man's expression.

He gulps.

Clint's face splits into an evil grin, and it dawns on Peter that the twitch of Clint's hand had not been an accident.

"What's gotten you so squirmy, Peter? You don't happen to be ticklish, do you?"

Flipping hell.

Clint knew exactly, how ticklish Peter was.

"That would be severely inconvenient, wouldn't it? You seem rather helpless right now."

Every muscle in the teen's body tenses at the words as his eyes are glued on Clint's hands that reach out for his sides.

"You can make this stop whenever you're ready," suggests Clint with the same shit-eating grin as before, hands around Peter's sides, ready to squeeze. Peter bites his lip to keep the tale-telling smile that threatens to slip onto his face in place. He could already feel Clint's fingers on his skin, knowing all too well what was about to come, and the anticipation was killing him. Clint seemed to know that too, the amused glint in his eyes making it harder for Peter to keep a straight face.

To Clint's credit, the spy gave him a few moments to change his mind before he started his attack.

The teen flinches as two hands tweak at his sides experimentally. A ticklish jolt ran through his whole body, and the muscles of his arms tensed up on instinct, but it didn't help make the squeezing that followed less ticklish.

"Are we trying to play tough?" teases Clint as he searches Peter's face for reactions, the latter biting his lips to keep from making noise. The chances of Clint stopping were low, but Peter's only hope was that the archer would get bored if he didn't break and let him go.

"Oh, Pete, you sure you want to do this? We both know how to get you to talk. All it takes is a little bit of this."

Peter didn't have time to wonder what kind of evil scheme the archer was planning. Even though his spidey sense warned him of something approaching, Peter couldn't do much in his current position but flinch like he got electroshocked when ten fingers unceremoniously dug into his rips. His facade crumbles instantly, loud laughter rolling from his lips as he flails around, trying to pull himself away from the wriggling diggets.

"Clihihhihihnt nohohohoh!" protests the teen through a wave of giggles before collapsing into himself when Clint claws at his stomach, vibrating his fingers into the sensitive area and sending the teen into a fit.

"Clint, yes!", teases Clint, mimicking Peter's high-pitched voice, grinning at the teen squirming helplessly under his tickling fingers.

"I didn't know our training included Spiderman."

Peter thanks whoever for getting a moment to suck in some oxygen when Clint lets up from him to glance over his shoulder.

"Oh, it doesn't. But I think training can wait. I have found something better than that."

"Something better than handing Sam his ass? I'm in."

Peter's head snaps up at the voices of the two newcomers. Peeking over Clint's shoulders, he catches sight of Sam and Bucky, clad in their training equipment, walking into the gym. His eyes fall back onto Clint, whose grin resembles a Cheshire cat when he sees Peter's expression and realizes who just joined them.

Now he was 1001% fucked.

Peter gulps when Bucky and Sam stand next to Clint, carrying similar amused but confused stricken expressions.

"Hell, how did you end up like that?" asks Sam, looking up at the string that keeps Peter in place. Clint pats him on the shoulder, shaking his head as if Peter were a lost cause.

"Don't try asking him. It seems there is some hot tea about how Pete-Pie ended up like this. Must be one hella funny story, but the squirt won't spill."

Sam snorts at Clint's words, eyeing the pitiful teen with a grin. The annoying bird-man found his predicament amusing and didn't even try to hide it.

"So you decided to torment him?"

Clint shrugs his shoulders as if the answer to that is obvious. Bucky crosses his arms, both metal and flesh bulging under his shirt at the movement as he gives a thoughtful look but not less amused than Sam.

"Why didn't you ask Friday if there is a video recording of it?"

At those words, Peter's eyes went wide. His reaction doesn't go unnoticed, and Clint's eyes sparkle at the realization that Bucky just found the answer.

Oh, hell no, he won't let that happen.

Before the spy can step into action, Peter all but shouts at the ceiling.

"Friday, activate protocol FTE-5!"

He waits with bated breath before Friday's voice echoes through the gym.

"Protocol FTE-5 is now activated."

The teen sags into himself in relief, chin leaning down onto his chest. That had been way too close for his liking. A finger pushes against his middle, making him flinch before looking up and into Sam's face, who looks down at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey now, what did you just do, kid?"

Sam squints at him.

"Nothing," Peter replies quickly, pointedly avoiding eye contact with the man. Clint eyes the teen hanging in front of him suspiciously. Peter didn't like the look he was receiving.

"Friday, is there a recording of what happened before I came in?" he asks without taking his eyes off Peter's face, the latter acting as if his shoelaces were the most fascinating thing he had seen all day.

"I am sorry Mr. Barton. I am not able to answer that question."

Bucky tilts his head. He glances at the teen, the latter focusing his eyes everywhere but at one of the three men.

"You did this."

Peter shakes his head, picture-perfect innocence written over his face.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Clint's expression turns sour.

"Friday, what did Peter do fifteen minutes before?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Barton, that is classified information."

The three men stare at Peter with various degrees of bewilderment and amazement.

"You manipulated Friday? Is that what that protocol was about? Does Stark know about this?"

Peter didn't like how clammy his hands felt at the moment.

"I don't know what you mean. Friday sounds alright to me," answers Peter, voice a pitch higher than usual.

Sam scoffs and throws his hands up, mumbling something about kids and the Internet these days while Bucky studies the nervous teen.

"What is protocol FTE-5, Peter?"

Peter presses his lips into a tight line, not going to lose a single word about it. He would take that information to his grave.

Protocol FTE-5 is the result of him spending more than half of his time with the Avengers, worst of all, Tony Stark. He should probably mention that he loved working together, but there was only so much teasing a sixteen-year-old could take from his literal idol before he combusts. Tony had developed the habit of using Friday to enjoy himself on Peter's behalf. He let the AI record some of Peter's embarrassing moments in the lab or during their fights and play them whenever Peter was too annoying. At first, it had been funny, but after some time, Peter realized with shock that he did a lot of dumb stuff that shouldn't, under any circumstances, be presented to a broader audience, and with that, he means anyone other than Mr. Stark. To avoid getting killed by finding a way for the ground to swallow him whole after embarrassing himself again, Peter decided to take matters into his own hands. Thus, Protocoll FTE-5 was born.

"You know I like you, Peter, but that's dramatic even for you. Hacking into Friday and putting in a protocol to delete every recording Friday did of you in the last thirty minutes? Isn't that a major safety threat?" had asked Ned during one of their decathlon meetings, words whispered behind his hand.

"You don't understand, Ned. I'll die if things continue like this!" Peter had been nothing but serious about the matter. Getting reminded by Tony through video clips of himself that he kind off blew up the lab three times in one week was stressing him out more than he liked to admit, even though he knew Tony was only poking fun at him and not mad.

Ned had given him a skeptical look before he glanced around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.

"What does FTE even stand for?"

Peter had given him his most serious expression.

"FTE - Fuck, that's embarrassing."

He had to admit, Ned's disappointed look kinda hurt his pride. He thought the name was good.

"That name is embarrassing. You are acting like a baby, Parker."

MJ had stood behind the two and rolled her eyes before throwing a ball of paper against his head to get his attention back into the meeting, leaving him with a beet-red face and his head in his hands. Ned had leaned over, poking his head with a pen to see if his friend was still alive.

"The name fits. That was really embarrassing."

Peter had wanted to die.

So, no, he wouldn't talk about it. Ever. Nothing could bring him to spill.

"We are back to not talking again? Well, tough luck, Parker. While I'm capable of mercy, I know someone who doesn't register that word in his dictionary." Clint tilted his head towards Bucky, who was sporting a menacing grin on his face.

Okay, Peter, don't let them intimidate you. They will let up if things get boring. At least, that is what he tries to tell himself as he holds his chin high, leveling Barton with a challenging smile.

"You're saying Bucky is illiterate?"

Sam honest to god, snorts at Peter's words and claps a hand onto Bucky's shoulder as he bends over, laughing into his fist. Although the joke is on Bucky, the ex-assassin's composure slips ever so slightly as a twitch of his lips upwards shows he was just as amused as Sam.

Clint, on the other hand, is for once lost for words. It doesn't happen often, but Peter just managed to leave the quickwitted spy flustered.

"I did not-, Bucky's is not-, oh, you know what, you'll regret that, kid."

Maybe sassing at Clint while dangling with bound wrists from the ceiling hadn't been his wisest idea. A nervous smile wound a way on Peter's face when Clint stalks over with a scowl, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows.

"Hey, how about we talk this out? Clint, please?"

If looks could kill, Peter would have died three seconds ago. Clint's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Oh, we will talk. After I'm done with you."

Oh my god, now he was utterly fucked. Like, absolutely inevitably fucked.

"You don't have to do this Clint, serious-NOHOHOHOHOHO!"

Peter violently pulls at the string holding him in place, a scream ripping from his mouth before a burst of hysterical laughter fills the entire gym. Fueled by the strong reaction, Clint continues digging his thumbs into Peter's exposed armpits.

"CLIHIHIHIHINT! PLEAHAHASE STAHAHAHAHAP!"

"What's wrong, Peter? Where is all of that sass now?" mocks the archer before he changes from using only his thumbs to all of his fingers to scratch and scribble along the sensitive pits, earning him a shriek and lots of bucking as Peter desperately tries to do anything to get the fingers away from his skin. Oh my god, it tickled so bad Peter thinks he's growing mad. The fingers dig into all his worst spots with deadly precision, rendering him into a squealing and widely kicking mess in mere seconds.

"Seeing this with my own eyes, I would almost conclude that he's ticklish," heard Peter Sam say over the sound of his laughter.

"What makes you think so?" asks Bucky with feigned surprise as the two just stand there, observing how Clint absolutely wrecks Peter. Peter doesn't know why their casual teasing causes him to grow even more embarrassed than he already was, but he feels his already reddened face heat up even more.

"Clint, I think you should let Mr. Tomato over here breathe. The kid looks like he's about to burst."

To his immense relief, the fingers retreated shortly after Sam's comment, giving Peter time to suck in precious air. He was panting, arms aching from straining himself in the unfavorable position. When his breathing calmed down and he didn't feel like his heart was about to burst from his chest, Peter dared to glance up. Nervousness washes over him as he realizes that the three men had been watching him collect himself.

"So Spidey, you think you can last against three Avengers?" asks Sam as he steps closer, a predatory grin on his face. The hair on his arms and neck stands up when Bucky starts moving. The taller man walks around him until he stands out of his vision, but Peter can feel him hovering over him from behind, and the knowledge does nothing but send his senses on edge.

"Are you ready to talk yet, Peter? If not, you don't see it, but Bucky here is ready to get into interrogation mode," informs Sam with a sadistic glee in his eyes. As on command, a pair of hands come into view, hovering just above his stomach, and Peter bites his lips, trying to keep the smile down that's forcing its way on his face. The hands begin to inch closer, barely hovering over his tummy, and Peter sucks his stomach in, trying hard to keep it together. When the hands shot forward, fingers wriggling tauntingly but not actually touching him, Peter's resolution breaks. He is immensely embarrassed by how quickly he crumbles.

"Get awahahahahy from mehehe!" squeezes Peter out between his panicked laughter. Clint grins in amusement, watching the squirming teen from the sidelines, giving Sam and Bucky a chance to have their fun but not leaving a moment to poke fun at Peter.

"He hasn't even started, kid. You won't last a minute, but you can make him stop now. You simply have to spill your dirty little secrets."

The three men wait, but Peter stubbornly shakes his head, not giving in.

"Well, we tried it the easy way. Bucky, go on."

Clint grins at the way the kid's eyes grow wide as the hands start coming into contact with his middle, and begins ruthlessly tickling him.

"NAhahahah BUHUHUHUCKY DOHOHON'T!"

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut tightly as an assault of ticklish sparks shout right from the place Bucky's fingers dig into his skin into his brain, leaving him in stitches.

"Let's take this up a notch." Sam grins and walks over to the screeching teen, ready to join the party. Peter's eyes shoot open as he feels a second pair of hands beginning to tickle him, seizing his hips and giving them a quick succession of well-timed squeezes. The feeling of four hands tormenting him became unbearable quickly. Peter's body acts on its own when he tensed his arms and pulled his feet up towards his chest. Before Sam could register what was happening, a pair of thin but strong legs closed around him, catching and trapping his arms against his waist and rendering him immobile.

"How did you manage that?" asks Bucky from behind Peter with amusement as he catches Sam's predicament.

"Come on, Peter. Let Sam go. You should stick to catching bank robbers or flies and not birds."

"Thehehere are spidehehrs thahahat cahahtch bihihirds!"

"Alright, nerd," teased Bucky and rolled his eyes before he claws with his right hand into Peter's ribcage while the other scratches teasingly into his exposed armpit.

"No, no, no, Buhuhuck, pleahahase dohohn't!"

"Let him go, and I'll stop," he suggests, tone playful.

"Youhu're lyhyhying!"

"Oh, how did you know?" asks Bucky, smirking and kneading into the kid's lean sides, earning more trashing and shrieking.

"Bucky, stop tickling him for a moment. I think he's going to break my spine at this point."

Sam pulls a grimace as Peter's legs squeeze tighter around his middle with every second.

"I think I can help with that."

Clint approaches the man, glancing over Sam's shoulder at Peter.

"Peter, let go of Sam."

Peter shakes his head violently, not thinking about giving Sam another chance to attack him.

Clint lets out a sigh before shrugging his shoulders.

"You leave me no other choice, kid."

Clint stands behind Sam and glances down where Peter's legs close around the man's midriff. He reaches out and quickly scribbles his fingers over the soles of the teen's feet. With a high-pitched shriek, the legs let loose, and Sam was about to let out a sigh of relief when a foot came in contact with his chest and sent him flying back a few meters.

"Shihihit! Sohohohrry Saham!"

He hears Bucky let out a shocked but not less amused laugh.

"You should wear shoes in the gym, Peter. Bruce or Tony will kill you if they find out you walk around here in just socks."

"I wahahas juhuhst testing out my geahahahar."

"Still, that's dangerous. Something could happen to your feet."

Clint reaches out to catch one of the flailing feet to give it a quick tickle, but Peter sees it coming and pulls them quickly close to his chest, scowling at the man as threateningly as he can while laughing his head off. It wasn't very threatening.

"Leahahahave them alohone, Clihint!"

Clint puts his hand up defensively, carrying a smirk on his face. "Okay, okay. No need to pull a Sam on me, kid."

"Hey!" shouts Sam from his place on the ground, grimacing as he rubs his chest.

"Clint's right, that's still dangerous," comments Bucky, and it drives Peter mad how the three were talking this causally while the ex-assassin did everything that leaves Peter laughing his head off.

"I dohohon't wear shohohes in the suhuhit eithehheher!" he protests as well as he could.

Sam frowns at that when he comes to a halt next to Clint, sending Peter a disapproving glance. "Don't let the public hear that. I can already see CPS getting sent after us. Excuse me, your enhanced spider toddler doesn't wear shoes while fighting DoomBots. We need to do a home visit. "

"I ahaham nohohot a toddlehehrr!" growls Peter, glaring at Sam.

"You are not? I'll bet I can make you sound like one."

Before Peter can ask what Bucky is talking about, a muscled arm wraps around him, finger hoking under the hem of his shirt and pulling it up. The arm stays wrapped around his chest, holding the shirt in place and exposing his middle to the cold air while simultaneously taking the last bit of room Peter had to move. He was now rendered completely immobile, and whatever Bucky was planning to do to him, Peter didn't know how much more he could take.

"Would you look at that? Is that a cute little tummy that begs for attention?"

Peter's eyes grew twice in size at the words and the tone of voice Bucky was using. Bucky cannot be serious about doing this.

"Does Pete-Pie's tummy want some tickles? Hmm?"

Peter didn't need to see the man's face to know he was wearing a massive shit-eating grin. If Peter had thought he had been embarrassed before, this was taking the meaning of being embarrassed to a whole new level. The worst thing about Bucky teasing him and talking to him like he was a three-year-old was the fact, that Peter couldn't shake off the nervous anticipation as he watched the metal arm creeping closer, fingers wriggling playfully just above his stomach.

"You still won't talk Pete-Pie?"

"Fuck off, Buhuhucky!"

Sam shakes his head as he watches Bucky messing with the kid.

"You see Barton, that is what I talked about earlier. I don't care about people telling me Spidey is a genius, that just now didn't sound very genius to me."

Clint grins at the words, shrugging his shoulders.

"Maybe he likes getting tickled?" he asks.

"Is that it, Pete? Do you like tickles? Like the little toddler, you are?" teases Bucky and starts scratching the tips of his fingers ever so lightly over his bare navel, causing Peter to scrunch his nose up as he tries to hold back the giggles that were building up in his throat. What Bucky did to him was nothing like the ruthless attacks from before. This was all gentle and teasing touches, dragging and wriggling fingertips lightly over his sides and stomach, searching for spots that made Peter twitch.

Peter was biting his lips, dreading to give Bucky the satisfaction of making any sound after getting humiliated like that, but the ex-assassin really knew how to fish for a reaction. It got harder and harder to keep the noises from escaping as the fingers wandered upwards, dangerously close to his ribcage. Catching onto the way the body in his arm tenses up, Bucky's smirk grows even wider, and he pulls his hand away, creating a false sense of security before he brings his head closer to Peter.

"I found your weak spot, little Spider," he growls into the teen's ear, and his hand shoots up, pressing his fingertips under the highest of Peter's ribs, and vibrating his hand but not in a ruthless manner from before. It did create just the effect he had gone for, breaking the last of Peter's walls down, and soon high-pitched giggles poured out of the teen's mouth. A wide grin splits Peter's face, and the childlike giggles cause the three men to grin at the sound filling the gym. As much as they liked teasing Peter, they all had to admit that his high-pitched giggles were nothing but adoring.

"Sure, you're sixteen and not three, Peter?"

Peter couldn't form an answer, too busy giggling his head off as the claw-like hand started vibrating into his belly, sending ticklish waves through his whole body. He could feel the heat in his head spreading down to his neck and chest, and he probably looked more flustered than ever before. The worst thing was that Bucky didn't seem to even think about stopping anytime soon, and Peter felt close to giving up.

"Okay, Gentleman, as fun as tormenting the kid is, we will end this here."

Peter had never felt more relieved to hear Tony's voice before. He listens half-heartedly as the man approaches the group before coming to a halt in front of him, glancing at him with a twitch of his lips.

"You're still alive."

"Just peachy, Mr. Stark."

"Good. Because I have a few things to discuss with you, Peter."

Peter catches himself as the string of web is cut and catches sight of Bucky, Clint, and Sam exiting the gym while Tony beckons him to follow him to one of the benches standing at the side.

Peter sits down while Mr. Stark pulls out one of the extra vials with the solvent for the web fluids. He holds his still bound together hands out, waiting for the man to spray the solvent and free him when he gets pushed back onto the bench.

"Mr. Stark?" asks Peter, staring wide-eyed at the man who had pushed him down.

"Oh no. You are not off the hook yet, Parker."

"I don't know what you are tal-"

"Ah ah ah," interrupts Mr. Stark and presses his finger against Peter's lips to keep him from talking.

"Care to explain why you hacked into Friday, Peter."

Oh fuck.

"Not the words I would use, but that sums it up well enough."

Peter didn't mean to say that out loud. He gulps when Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain himself.

"These three didn't manage to, but I know how to make you talk, Peter. Don't let it come to that," warns Tony and places a hand on Peter's stomach, keeping him from getting up.

"You saw all that?"

"This is my tower kid. What did you expect?"

Now Peter was seriously fucked.

#marvel tickle fic #ticklish! peter parker #tickling #tickle fanfic #spiderman #peter parker #bucky barnes #sam wilson #clint barton #falcon #winter soldier #hawkeye #marvel fanfic #ticklish peter parker

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 2 years

Text

Make it a Challenge

Word count: 2,400

Pairing: Clint x reader and Kate (platonic mentor relationship)

Reader pronouns: none used (gender neutral)

Warnings: mild cursing

After Skill of a Valkyrie Part 2 came out to 13k words, I'm planning on making the next few prompts more drabble-ish length (I say 'ish' because I can't seem to write anything under 1000 words 😂). Less backstory, more just diving right into the prompt request. Hopefully this will be helpful for you readers out there with less time on your hands compared to reading through my 10k plus novellas 😅😅

This Prompt was for a mentor-mentee relationship between Clint and reader. Featuring Kate Bishop also!

"You think you got it this time?"

"Yeah, yeah I've got it."

You raised your bow up to shoulder height as you'd practiced dozens of times today. Arrow docked in place. String taut. Arm straight. Feet apart.

"How's this?" you asked, glancing to your mentor. Clint pinched his chin between his thumb and index finger for a moment, scrutinizing your stance. "What's wrong - having trouble finding fault this time?"

"Your elbow is pointed up again," Clint stated flatly, stepping closer so he could gently press down on your elbow with his palm. You scoffed. "Hey - you can be annoyed with me all you want, but you won't hit the target with that elbow all crooked like that."

"I can't help it - that's the direction it wants to go!"

Clint laughed warmly, lowering your elbow once again as it tilted upward seemingly of its own accord. "Here - I'll hold it in place, and you shoot."

You took in a slow, steady breath through your nose and held it, locking your gaze on the target fifteen feet away from where you stood. A slight breeze caressed your cheek, but nothing gusty enough to alter the course of your arrow. Tightening your grip on the bow, you released the string and arrow simultaneously with your breath.

Thwap.

"See? That's better than last time," Clint encouraged.

"Yeah but it's still only hitting the edge of the target," you argued with a groan. "I'm not convinced your methods work for me."

"Hitting the edge of the target is better than completely missing the target by a few feet, don't you think?"

You shoved his shoulder playfully at his teasing tone. "Yeah, yeah. I'm still not convinced."

"How about you watch Kate shoot one next, and you tell me if her elbow is all stuck up in the air like a chicken wing?" Clint called after you as you stalked across the yard to retrieve your arrow. You made a rude gesture at him without even turning around, grinning to yourself when he balked at you. "Oh, aren't you the mature one?"

"What, like you've never done it before?" You spun on your heel to walk backwards, throwing an impish grin his way. He responded by mimicking your rude gesture in return. "Point proven."

"Hey Kate! Why don't you come over here and show us how it's done, hmm?" Clint called across the yard toward the front porch. "I'm getting tired of the whining!"

"Hey!" you hollered, feigning insult. Kate glanced up from the book she was reading to Nate, grinning at the banter between the pair of you.

"You think you'll get less whining with me? Wow. You must be losing your memory, old man," she called in response as she handed Nate the book and rose from her seat.

"You know... I think you're having a bad influence on her," Clint griped as you returned to his side with your arrow in hand.

"But it's so easy to get under your skin!" you countered, sheathing the arrow in your quiver. "How could we not find enjoyment in irritating you when you get to tease us all the time for our form?"

"Uh, yeah. I think it's only fair we get to pick on you sometimes too," Kate concurred as she approached the pair of you. Clint rolled his eyes, clearly attempting to suppress an endeared grin.

"Alright, enough chit-chat. Kate - show us your shooting stance."

Kate hoisted her bow off her shoulder and raised it in one smooth, sweeping motion, docking an arrow. She pulled the string back and held it in place, allowing the two of you to observe her form. Clint immediately gestured to her notably straight elbow, shooting you an 'I-told-you-so' look.

"See? No crooked elbows here," he emphasized.

"Yeah? Well... Kate's shorter than me. It makes sense."

"Whahat?? No, that doesn't make sense at all!" Clint laughed. "Alright, Kate - take the shot."

Kate released the arrow and let it sail toward the target, burying itself straight in the center of the bullseye. You sighed in frustration. She turned to offer you an encouraging smile.

"Don't worry - I've been training since I was a little kid," she reminded you. "We've both got a lot of years on you in archery experience. You'll get there." Your expression softened at her words of wisdom. Satisfied, she turned and shot Clint a cocky grin. "Honestly, Hawkeye - you've really got to make this a challenge for me someday. It really isn't fair that we're both training on the same target with such a gap in experience."

"Last I checked, I wasn't training you today," Clint bantered. "You were here to help mentor. And keep Nate out of shooting range."

"He's fine, he's hanging out on the porch," she assured, gesturing to the young boy where he sat reading the book she'd left with him. "You never give me a challenge even when you are mentoring me! Make a smaller target, let me play with trick arrows... something!"

Clint pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. "You want a challenge? I'll give you a challenge. Go on and line up your shot."

Kate shot him a confused look, nevertheless sliding an arrow from her quiver and docking it in her bow once again. She turned to look at Clint with an exasperated expression. "How is this a challenge?"

"Just focus on the target. I'll tell you when to shoot." Clint sidled up behind Kate as she returned her attention to the target, reaching around her to cover her eyes with his hands. She yelped in surprise, lowering her bow. "You wanted a challenge!"

"Yeah, but warn me next time you're gonna blindfold me with your sweaty hands, alright??" She repositioned her bow, this time not flinching when Clint blocked her vision. "This isn't a challenge," she boasted, releasing the arrow and striking the target mere millimeters from the previous arrow in the center.

"Oh you want a harder one? Go ahead, I'll come up with something."

Kate scoffed. "Yeah, alright. Whatever you say." She realigned her shot with a fresh arrow, rolling her eyes with a bored expression. As she prepared to shoot, Clint placed his palm on the crown of her head and mussed her hair. She whined as her arrow sailed, still striking its target despite the added distraction. "Don't mess with my hair! Ugh, you're a child!"

"Thought I was an 'old man' a few minutes ago?" he retorted with a teasing lilt.

"You're a childish old man, clearly," you chimed in in Kate's defense. Clint shot you a half-hearted glare.

"You'd better watch yourself, you're still not done training for today. I can make your life miserable too."

"You wouldn't try to blindfold me, you know I wouldn't hit the target," you argued. "I can barely hit it with my eyes open."

Kate removed another arrow from her quiver, holding it up with a challenging stance toward Clint. "Well? You gonna make this actually hard? Or are you giving up?"

"Just turn around and shoot the damn arrow," he groaned. She raised her bow once again, lining up her shot. Swiftly, Clint stepped up behind her and prodded her sides with his index fingers. "Ha-hehey!" she yelped, doubling over slightly and lowering her bow.

"How's this for 'childish' hmm?" He continued to poke and prod at her sides at random, much like a younger brother might do to their older sibling. Kate giggled, twisting to avoid his ticklish pokes. "Are you giving up now, Kate?"

"Noho! Just - ack - juhust stop tickling me-hee!" she pleaded. He ceased as requested, waiting patiently with his arms folded for her to reposition herself to shoot. "I can totally still hit the target."

"Oh yeah? Even when you're dancing around like that?" he asked facetiously, throwing in a poke to her stomach. She swatted his hand away with a sharp look.

"Just watch me."

Kate eyed Clint warily as she shifted back into her shooting stance. He flashed her a smirk, slowly moving his hand toward her side with wiggling fingers. She bit down on her bottom lip to maintain her focus, releasing the arrow the moment his fingertips connected with her side. Admittedly, the shot was slightly off kilter, but she still managed to hit the very edge of the bullseye.

"HA!" she exclaimed triumphantly, turning to accept a high-five from you. "Nice try, old man!" she added with a smirk in Clint's direction.

"Alright, alright... you win this round," he admitted in defeat, grinning fondly at the two of you. "Don't think I haven't forgotten about you," he added, pointing at you accusingly.

"Me?? On the list of 'unsafe things to do,' I think trying to distract me while shooting an arrow is probably towards the top."

Clint responded by sliding your quiver off your shoulder and tossing it aside, kneeling to dig around in his bag while you protested. He removed an arrow from inside, handing it to you with a haughty smirk.

"Wha- you're gonna make me train with a Nerf arrow??"

"Excuse me - that is not a Nerf arrow," he responded in offense. "It's called a training arrow - I built them to have the same specs as any standard arrow, but with a foam arrowhead for safety."

"You've let me shoot with real arrows since I started - where were you keeping these then?"

Clint shrugged. "I trusted you enough not to shoot anyone's eye out with a real one. And I was right, wasn't I?"

"So how am I supposed to know where I hit the target with this? It'll bounce right off."

"You've still got work to do on your form." He winked cheekily. "When you show me you've perfected your shooting stance, I'll give you the real arrows back."

"My form is just fine."

"Then you should have no problem demonstrating it for me." He motioned toward you in a silent request to demonstrate. You shot him a wary look in return.

"What are you up to?"

"You two wanted a challenge today. And this 'childish old man' is more than happy to bring it."

You let out a huff of air through your nose, pretending to be annoyed rather than hyperaware of where Clint stood behind you as you lifted your bow and docked the foam-tipped arrow. Carefully, you pulled the string back and held your stance, waiting a few moments for his critique.

"Well? How's this?" you asked after the silence lingered a bit too long for your liking.

"Stance is good... shoulders are straight... that damn elbow is really getting you, though." He poked your bent elbow for reference.

"I told you, it just goes that way! I can't help it!"

"Oh no?" Clint reached out and wriggled his fingertips into the exposed space under your arm. With a shriek of protest, you instinctively lowered it to protect the vulnerable spot. "There you go! Keep it just like that."

"You're the wohorst!" you griped, readjusting yourself into a more firm stance. Seconds later, his fingers were dusting underneath your arm once again. "CLIHINT!"

"Keep that elbow down. How many times do I have to tell you?" There was an air of amusement in his tone that made you turn and stick your tongue out at him. "Ah-ah! I said keep it down!"

"Don't- AHARGH!" You lowered both arms as he dug into your uppermost ribs this time, allowing the string of the bow to loosen. "You are insufferable!"

"I'm insufferable??" His hands latched onto your ribs from behind, digging into the crevices without relenting this time. You burst into a fit of laughter, allowing the bow and arrow to fall to the ground beside you as you re-targeted your focus toward blocking the ticklish sensation. "When the kids can't follow simple directions, they get punished - maybe that's what you need."

"CLIHIHINT! Plehease!!" you pleaded helplessly as your knees buckled beneath you. He followed you down as you sank to the ground, fingers darting randomly up and down your sides to keep you squirming.

"You gonna keep that elbow down now?" he urged teasingly.

"YEHEHES! Oh my gohod!" You toppled over sideways as he scribbled into your belly, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally ceased his attack. "I-hi... I feel bahad for your kids, dahamn!"

"Oh, they're not nearly as ticklish as you are," he jested, earning a glare. "Come on - let's shoot one more real one. Show me what you've got."

He held out a hand to help you up, which you accepted. Once on your feet, you scooped up your bow and turned toward the target. Clint placed a regular arrow in your hand.

"No tickling this time - I have a sharp object now," you chastised with a grin.

"Wouldn't dream of it. Now - get into your stance, elbow down, and shoot."

You breathed in and out slowly, refocusing on the target. Carefully, you raised the bow and docked your arrow, this time ensuring your elbow remained level with your shoulder despite how foreign it still felt. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Clint nod with approval.

"Let it fly," he instructed.

It struck dead center.

"Holy hell, that was amazing!!" Kate praised, throwing her arms around you in a congratulatory hug. You were beaming ear to ear as you returned her hug, glancing at Clint over her shoulder. He had a fatherly smile lighting up his face.

"Told you - it was all in that rogue elbow," he boasted.

"Yeah, yeah..." You rolled your eyes, unable to wipe the smile off your face. "All this archery has made me hungry."

"Oh? You cookin'?" Clint teased as he started to head toward the house.

"Nah, I thought Kate could cook."

"Hey! Why should I have to cook?"

"Because you're better at it than he is."

"Don't push your luck," Clint warned, prodding your side and chuckling at your squeak. "I think I'm gonna call you 'mouse' after that noise."

"I'm still gonna call you 'old man' then."

All of you knew very well that Laura would already have dinner on the table for the family plus you and Kate by the time you got inside. She was kind like that. But you'd never pass up an opportunity to banter with your mentor.

#ticklish!reader #tickle fic #marvel tickle #tickle fluff #sfw tickle fluff #clint x reader #ler!clint #lee!reader #lee!kate

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harrystylesboobear · 11 months

Text

Winning hand

First fic!! I am new, and don't know how to work tumblr so... any advice helps!!

This is a tickle fic btw so if you don't like that sort of thing then keep scrolling!!! Short as it is my first time!

Y/n and Clint are playing a game of crib. Ler Clint Barton, Lee Y/n, Fandom: Marvel Y/n is She/her

Y/n and Clint were playing a game of crib. Y/n suddenly got a really great hand, with a grand total of 24 points . But what made this the greatest hand of her life was the look on clints face when those points made you win and skunk him.

"Clint I beat you! I guess you aren't as good as they say you are. "

she was surprised when she won, because he is quite the crib player, so of course she had to tease him a bit. But she quickly regretted it when she looked up from her winning hand to see the death glare that clint was giving her. She knows this look all too well.

"cLihihnt nohoho dohont"

"Why are you giggling, I didn't even say what im going to do yet" he said slightly giggling at your panic.

"Ihi knohow whahat yohohor gohoing toho doho"

"well you shouldn't of teased me and insulted my crib ego. He said as he quickly pulled you into his lap and dug into your sides

Clihihint!! Stohohopp

"I'm not going to stop until you say that your not going to tell anyone that you won against me! Besides, I know you love thissss." As he said this he switched to wiggling his finger in her armpits. On instinct you closed your arms down effectively trapping his fingers in, and so he wiggled his fingers faster.

CLIHIHINT OHOHOH MYHAHAHY GOHOHOHD

"Aww your blushing"

HAHAHAHHAHA she was just cackling

Clint tried to switch tactics but quickly relised he couldn't as his fingers were trapped.

"yyyy/nnnnn you have to let my fingers outtttt" he said in a sing song voice.

IHIHIHIH CAHAHAANT

Clint slowed his fingers so she could but as soon as she did he dug back in twice as hard

" CLIHIHIHIHINT OHOHOHO MYAYAY GOHOHOHOD" you said in absolute suprise.

" I know im evil"

HAHAHAHAHAH OKOK IHI WOHOHNT TELEHEHELELL ANYHEHEWONENE

Clint had slowly stopped his fingers ad slipped them out of your armpits

'Ohohkay giggles calm down" he said as he rubbed you to get the residue giggles out

" Your so mehehean"

" I know you love it though"

" ugh your so obnoxious"

" I know, and also you can tell whoever you want I really don't care"

' YES! Im telling Tony! He is so never gonna let this go!"

Clint groaned but laughed as you ran away to tell tony.

#tword content #ticklish reader #tickle fic #marvel #marvel tickle #Ler clint barton #tickle

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nhasablogg · 2 years

Note

Would you be open to writing a platonic Kate and Clint fic where Kate is feeling alone for the holidays so Clint shows her she still has family? Maybe Kate can retaliate after and tickle Clint and then Clint can get her back

Words: 650

It took Kate three beers, one sappy Christmas movie and a bowl of buttered popcorn to realize the ache in her chest was due to homesickness and not exhaustion. Iowa was a well-known cold, but it wasn’t as busy as New York, and so it didn’t provide them with the warmth that rushing around did. She kept shivering under her blanket.

“I’m just tired after everything,” she’d told them, but as the kids went to bed one by one on Christmas Day, she discovered she had no desire to sleep.

Clint and Laura lingered so obviously for her sake, but she kept her eyes on the TV screen, refusing to let them worry about one more person this holiday season. When Laura finally left with a squeeze to her arm, Kate felt herself relax just a little.

“Are you sure the couch will work?” Clint asked for the second time that night. “Nate can sleep with us, it’s fine-”

“No, no, I’m okay! I promise.” She patted the cushion. “The couch will be fine, don’t worry.”

He hummed. Clint had been a kinder version of his snarky self since they’d arrived, sprinkled with such loving smiles directed at his family but also sometimes at her that Kate had no idea how to react. She wasn’t surprised when he sat down beside her now, although she was when she found she didn’t mind it.

“The kids adore you,” he said, not looking at her as he spoke. “As does Laura.”

“And you?” She grinned at him, but found that something in her cared more about his reply than she cared to admit.

He huffed out a laugh. “You’re a pain in my ass.” Something softened when he met her gaze. “But you’re growing on me.”

“Oh, I knew you were sappy underneath all that snark,” she said, poking his side automatically and finding it very interesting when he flinched. “Oho.”

But Clint, a superhero after all, was quick to turn and grab her wrists. “Don’t you dare.”

She jutted out her chin. “Or what?”

“I’ll have you regret it.”

“I’d like to see you try.” She tried to slip her wrists out of his grip, but he held on firmly, not tight enough to hurt, but enough to not give her any room to escape unless she gave it her all. “Hey-”

Clint was also a dad, which he proved when he let his fingers flutter over her own vulnerable side so skillfully he had to be doing this on the daily. She was surprised by the sound that left her lips, something loud and desperate, much too similar to a giggle for her liking.

“Ah, this could land you in trouble,” he said, as if he himself hadn’t shown signs of sensitivity just a moment prior. “Better teach you how to endure it.”

“Stop,” she choked out, twisting and failing to escape his unbearable touch. She hadn’t been tickled in years and wasn’t sure how to react to it.

“See this as an opportunity to learn. Can you overpower me? Escape? Counterattack?”

“Oh my god, shut up- no!”

He’d left her side and started prodding her belly. Kate regretted having shed her sweater, but it was hot in here and her t-shirt was thin enough that it almost felt as if he was touching bare skin. She dissolved into something more hysterical, something even louder, which made Clint place his palm against her lips.

“You’ll wake the whole house,” he said, laughing as his fingers stilled.

“I don’t see how that’s my fault.”

“Eh, fair enough.” He let go of her wrists and she rubbed at her midriff to get rid of the ghost tickles. “That’s a cute laugh you got there.”

“I’ll punch you,” she threatened, but she felt warm with a sudden surge of joy. Maybe this wasn’t her biological family, but she felt safe this holiday season. Clint had made sure of that.

#ticklish!kate #kate and clint #hawkeye #hawkeye fic #marvel #tickling #n writes #holiday joy

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abbyromanoff · 8 months

Note

Can I please request intersex Maria Hill x shield agent!reader. Reader is like EXTREMELY pretty like goddess level pretty and practically everybody’s in love with/attracted to her. And she met Maria at one of Tony’s parties? Thanks in advance

HALLOWEEN NIGHT

PAIRINGS: kidnapper!Maria Hill x Barton!reader

WORD COUNT: 2747

WARNINGS: dark fic, Maria has a dick, kidnapping, R sleeping with Wanda and Nat, flirting, jealousy, pretty rushed ending tbh, smut, thigh fucking, belly bulges, daddy (M), breeding kink, virginity loss, parties, kinda fem!R but no pronouns are used, drugging, needles, age gap (legal), restraints, gags, cumming on R, petnames, Maria honestly can’t last long at all, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Your foot tapped gently with the beat of the music, your drink in hand as you took occasional sips. You hummed at the taste, oblivious to the watching eyes surrounding you, Maria being one of them.

All throughout the night you’ve had people coming up to you, trying to find any excuse to talk to you or look at you up close. To them, it was like a fallen angel had walked through the doors and greeted them with your presence, you were that angel. Maria couldn’t help but agree with them, but it didn’t mean she liked it. She thought, no, she knew you belonged to her, she just wished you knew it too.

“Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to my oldest, Y/N,” Clint spoke with a grin, allowing the spotlight to land on you as you shyly waved. Maria’s breath was practically shot out of her, her heart thumping quicker than ever.

“It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” Wanda shook your hand and gave you a small grin as she looked you up and down. Nat did the same as Wanda, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm before smirking. She sent the witch a knowing look and returned to her seat, patting the spot between the two, signaling for you to sit.

“And how come I’ve never met this one, huh, Clint?” He rolled his eyes at her antics, well aware of the thoughts hidden beneath layers of their head.

“They just moved back home after college, they’re a psych major.” They all nodded as your father boasted about you, Maria remained silent. She was eyeing you, but you didn’t look much into it. You feared she was doing so because she didn’t like you or was trying to profile you, but that was proven to be wrong the moment her voice came to surface.

“I’m Maria,” The sweetness shocked you, but you appreciated her willingness to let another into the bubble the team seemed to form.

“Hey, Maria, it’s nice to meet you.” You calmly retorted, giggling as you felt Nat’s fingers brushing over your soft skin. Your inner thigh was just barely showing under your dress, and they both used that to their advantage, most had throughout the night.

“You ticklish, dove?” You bit your lip to stop yourself, and Maria internally groaned at the sight. She wanted to tear that lip from beneath your teeth and bite it as she let her tongue explore your mouth.

“Just a little bit.” She chuckled, images flashing through her mind of you beneath her, biting that lip as you came around her fingers.

“Would you like a drink, Y/N?” The agent's voice boomed, bringing you out of your trance as you forced yourself to look around, noticing your father was no longer nearby. You didn’t expect him to watch you the whole night, but you didn’t expect him to leave and strike up conversations with others so quickly.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You mumbled, your nerves rising under her gaze. She gave a short nod before walking towards the bar, her eyes occasionally glancing your way.

“So, what do you say about coming with us? If you’d like to dance, we’d love to join you.” Wanda suggested, brushing her shoulder against yours with a knowing grin. Her hot breath fanned against you, leaving goosebumps to trail your skin.

“Oh, a-alright.” You didn’t expect so much attention, but you were happy they seemed to enjoy you.

“Good choice, dove. It’s alright if I call you that, right?” The blush on your face was all the answer she needed, but she still awaited your worded response.

“Yeah, I think it’s kind of cute, actually.” The two led you to the floor, Nat placing her hand on your bottom while Wanda’s grazed up against your lower back. She stood behind you, letting her body grind against yours while Nat stayed in your view. She smirked as your lips parted when feeling Wanda’s breasts pressing into you.

“Can we kiss you, dove?” You didn’t get to speak as Nat instantly pressed her lip into yours, Wanda’s landing on the soul of your neck as a moan threatened to leave you. Your hips involuntarily went with the witch's movements, resulting in a deep groan from the redhead.

“Fuck, such a good girl.” You gave in to their shared compliments, basking in the warmth they offered you. You forgot about the offered drink from earlier, causing Maria to scowl with displeasure when seeing where you stood. She didn’t understand why she felt so predatory over you, she just met you, after all, but there was something about you she had never seen before. Not only did your beauty outshine the room, but your heart was filled with a pureness she’d never expect someone your age to have. You were a college graduate, most students would be fucking their brains up with alcohol and drugs while they slept with anyone who offered themselves, but you were different.

“Why don’t we ditch this party, yeah? I can think of a few things we could do instead.” You gulped, suddenly aware of the proximity you lacked between the two.

“Oh, I- I don’t know.”

“C’mon, dove, it’s not like we’d ever hurt you. If you want to stay here like this then that’s more than fine, but we’d love to make you feel as good as you deserve.” Wanda snaked her hand over your front, placing it undeniably close to your breasts. You gasped, licking over your lips before sharing glances between the two.

“I’ve never, you know.” Her eyes widened slightly, but it was enough to cause your brain to spiral. You hoped she didn’t think wrongly of you now, especially not when you got so far with the two. You weren’t a kid anymore, you hoped she didn’t see you as such now.

“Mm, that’s alright, we’re not here to judge you, dove.” It was made clear they still wanted to continue, and you took that as the okay to move forward.

“Please take me upstairs, I want you both so bad.”

You woke up with a small headache as the sun blared through the windows, reminding you where you were. The two women were still sleeping next to you, their peaceful snores making you grin. You didn’t know what to do going forward, you just lost your virginity to two strangers at a party. Sure, they knew your father, but that only made it worse.

“Fuck,” You groaned out, trying your best not to wake both Wanda and Nat as you scooted out of the comfortable bed. You wished you could go back to bed, but you weren’t sure if they even wanted to see you in the morning. You gathered your small pile of clothes on the floor and loosely tossed them on before exiting quietly.

“Good morning, Y/N.” You jumped, turning to the voice and spotting a tired Maria with a cup of coffee in her hand.

“Jesus, you scared the fuck out of me!” You chuckled. “What, uhm, what are you doing up so early?” You leaned against the wall, brushing the strands of hair out of your face and remaining in a neutral stance.

“I could ask you the same, couldn’t I?” Her calmness sent shivers down your spine, but you didn’t know why.

“I think we both know the answer to that,” You noticed her jaw clench and her nostrils flare slightly, making you fear that you spoke wrong.

“Would you like some coffee? I think you’ll be needing the energy after last night.” Your cheeks brightened, a snort coming from your end as you followed her into the kitchen. The place was so large, you didn’t know how anyone got around.

“I suggest you change your clothes.”

“Oh, I didn’t bring a spare, I kind of expected to be going home after last night.” You wondered if your dad went back home without you or stayed, but you were kind of hoping he headed back so you wouldn’t be stuck with his questions on the ride home.

“You can pick some from my room, I don’t mind.” You felt bad for accepting the offer, until you realized it was that or walking around in high heels and a dress the rest of the day. You found her room with the help of a small direction from her and Jarvis, rummaging through her dresser the moment you found it. You took a minute to glance around her room, the soft yet blank aroma causing your curiosity to grow. You had the clothes in hand, but you wanted to see more. Maria gave off such a tough, cold exterior, you wanted to know what was behind that.

Her bedsheets were perfectly set, not a wrinkle in sight. Her pillows were perfectly aligned and her bedside tables were close to empty, only sporting a lamp on one and a book on the other. There wasn’t even an alarm clock, how did she wake up so early? Maybe it was nightmares, but there was no way she could remain so relaxed and calm if she experienced such on a daily.

You felt the urge to go to the bathroom settling in and assumed she wouldn’t mind you using hers, seeing as she was allowing you to borrow her clothes. What you didn’t expect to see was a knife in the sink, hints of red still covering it. You gasped, only to feel a body behind yours and a hand coming to your mouth.

“You shouldn’t have gone in here, pretty girl.” You tried screaming beneath the coverage but only managed to release a weak whimper as your eyes started growing heavier. You looked down, noticing a needle drawing out of your waist before you fell limp in her hold, unable to fight her off like your thoughts screamed at you to do.

“Perfect, you’re awake.” Came the same voice from earlier, leading you to look around and take in the surroundings. You laid on a bed, it wasn’t as comfy as Nat and Wanda’s but it wasn’t as bad as the one you spent your college years on. Your mouth was still covered by a gag, your legs and hands tied as you tried to wiggle away from her. She stood in your sight now, her shirt gone as her abs shined under the dim lighting. Her left side was patched up, and you were able to get a closer look as she climbed on top of you. Her hands came to your chin, bringing your eyes in line with hers while she smirked.

“I’m going to remove this now, but if you scream, cry, yell, anything, I won’t hesitate to cut your fucking tongue out, got it?” She all but growled, causing tears to rim your eyelids. You nodded nonetheless, taking multiple deep breaths when she did as promised.

“How’d you get that?” You asked after moments of silence, your voice so silent it was practically a whisper.

“Don’t worry about it, alright? All I want you to do is sit there and look perfect for me, you don’t need to think.” You complied, your eyes fluttering as her camera’s flash shocked you. She let the polaroids dry before taking a few more, smiling as she admired each one. She licked her lips, cupping her semi-hard cock with a groan.

“Fuck, you have no idea how badly I need you.” She unbuttoned her pants slowly while stalking towards you, lowering her undergarments before stroking her length, chuckling darkly as you shuttered, your thighs instinctively clenching.

“Don’t move a single fucking muscle, I want to see how wet and needy you get for me.” You bit your lip, a desperate attempt to calm your nerves that rose.

“Are- are you going to put that in me?” You eyed her crotch, taking in every vein that pulsed.

“Mhm, and you’re going to take every last inch, Princess.” Your legs were lifted into the air, the rope forcing them to stay bound together as she put them over her shoulder. A slap came to your ass, causing your body to jolt as you cried out.

“God, I love it when you cry.” A moan found its way past her lips when her length came in contact with your plush thighs, her tip sneaking past the skin as you spotted the pre-cum drooling onto your waist.

“Fuck, please, Daddy!” You regretted the words the moment they left your lips, but your desire seemed to overpower you. She stilled, and you could hear every breath she panted.

“My beautiful baby, my angel…no one else gets to see you like this, yeah? Only me? Mhm, good. Let’s see what other pretty sounds you can make, Princess.” She looked back on the night before, the sight of Nat kissing your sweet lips while Wanda marked your neck only fueling her anger. Seeing them lead you to their room made her want to do things she could never repeat, but now that she had you in her hold, you were safe from everything and everyone else, she convinced herself. It wasn’t your fault you were so lustful, anyone who saw you instantly fell to their knees, begging to even hear your voice. But no one got to see you the way she did, and she’d make sure the two Avengers never got to see you again.

“I’m so close, can’t wait to paint your body with my fucking cum.” Spurts of hot liquid shot onto you, Maria’s head being thrown back while you took in the sight. She had never cum so quickly, whatever you were doing to her was something she couldn’t control, and she wasn’t displeased.

You felt the restraints around your legs loosen before they fell onto the bed, Maria instantly grasping onto them and putting one on either side of her body. She rubbed her cock against your folds, lips parting as your hips thrusted with each movement. Your clit throbbed in delight before she allowed her length to tease the bud, relishing in your sounds of pleasure that were meant only for her.

“Eyes on me,” She demanded when seeing your eyes fall shut, a gulp of fear traveling through your throat. “No, I don’t care if you’re scared, you’ll keep those eyes on me, got that? I want to see the very second I break you, my sweet doll.” She stroked your cheek, her gaze stuck on your cunt that slowly accepted her tip.

“Ah- it’s so much, Daddy! I- I don’t think I can take all- all of it.” You sniffled, hands struggling against the restraints as you tried to play with your pleading nipples that hardened in the cold.

“I want to see how much you can take, impress me, Princess.” You mewled out pleas. “I don’t care if it hurts, you’re here to please me, I could care less if you get off or not.” She pressed her palm against the bulge on your stomach, your sounds bringing shots of heat to her body. She could feel her coil's tightness returning, bringing a small gasp from her end.

“Oh- fuck! I- I’m close again, baby, I’m gonna cum inside you so fucking much!” Her thrusts became animalistic, her grunts causing your brain to fog. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mind going hazy as drool threatened to dribble onto your chin. She was now completely inside of you, causing clapping sounds to elicit throughout the room with each moving of her hips.

“You wanna carry Daddy’s babies, sweetheart? Yeah, you want me to knock you up?” You nodded, unable to comprehend the words she spoke.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck- I’m cumming! Mhm, take all of it! Going to get this greedy little cunt filled to the brim with my fucking cum.” Her lips found your neck in a hurry, desperate to replace your previous marks with ones of her own. You felt spurts of her seed shooting into you, her thrusts becoming slower and sloppier the longer she stalled inside of you. Your warm walls were clenching onto her, gripping for dear life in ways no one has. No one has brought as deep of pleasure as you have, proving her point as to you being the best target she could equip.

“I’m never letting you go, baby, you’re mine now.” But the truth was, you didn’t mind.

#maria hill x fem!reader #maria hill #maria hill smut #maria hill angst #maria hill imagine #maria hill x you #maria hill fluff #maria hill marvel #maria hill x reader smut #maria hill x reader #maria hill x gender neutral reader #maria hill x fem!reader smut #maria hill x reader angst #maria hill x y/n

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ageofevermore · 7 months

Text

BRIGHTER THEN CHRISTMAS LIGHTS

SUMMARY — you’ve been with kate for years, but on your first christmas in your new apartment, she decides to make you hers forever

The room smelt like pine and peppermint, you could thank the six foot tree in the corner, decorated with candy canes and assorted purple ornaments for that. As the morning sun bled into your quiet bedroom, painting the walls and everything else it touched golden, your heart fluttered in your belly at the simplicity of this moment you earned. After months of endless battles, there was finally peace to be enjoyed, and you would milk every second of it while it lasted.

Kate was flush against the bedsheets, satin pillow on the floor and heavy blankets tangled at her hips like she’d kicked them off in the middle of the night. She was always a quiet sleeper, but with her face pressed into the bed, soft snores escaped her parted lips. Her cheeks were flush, tinted pink, an accent to the all purple room she adored. Her deep brown hair that was almost the color of a raven sat twisted into a single braid in the middle of her head, frizzy at the roots as a result of restless rustling all night. Her plaid purple pajama top had ridden up in her sleep, exposing the softest parts of her hips and belly. You sat in the quiet for a while, admiring her even breaths and innocent face, wishing every morning could be this easy.

Just last week, you’d spent your nights alone while she fought alongside Clint somewhere in Brooklyn. When she did finally come home, she was sore and not nearly herself, not that you could blame her, but you were finally back in a routine, and your favorite holiday awaited you downstairs in full swing. If there was one thing Kate was known for within your small community of friends, it was her full-out commitment to decorating that could rival her high energy personality. Your bedroom was full of purple accents, from the blankets on the bed to the little trinkets she collects on the shelves, the apartment was a different theme in every room, not a single space left unfinished. You had assumed she’d go the generic Christmas route, not holding your expectations too high knowing how busy this time of year got for her, but you’d been severely wrong. So perfectly she found decor that matched every theme, and so proudly she’d put up a Christmas tree in every room that would surely have the place smelling like pine for months to come. It so perfectly fit who she was at her core, and the day it all came down would break your heart.

The ornaments on the tree reflected purple shadows against the wall, the candy canes were sweet and the pine was light, the sun warm against your skin that felt flush just watching her breathe. She looked so peaceful, you couldn’t even think about rousing her from that state, content with the silence around you and the heavy snow that fell outside of your window. It was a perfect snowglobe moment that you had waited days to have.

You lean back against the headboard, letting the cold flush wash over your warm body. Reaching a hand out tenderly, you caress the side of Kate’s face, pink cheeks warm to the touch but nothing out of the ordinary for her, always running hot when in the deepest depths of her slumber. You wondered what she dreamed about, but much to your dismay, she always woke without a single memory, only a smile on her cherry lips and wonder in her icy eyes. She wore your most favorite shade of blue so easily, everything about her was captivating, even in this moment. You didn’t mean to wake her, but the ticklish sensation that spread through her face was what brought her back down to earth, her eyes squinting before she stretched her entire body out like a clumsy puppy, smiling up at you with closed eyes.

“G’morning.” She rasped, snuggling deeper into the bedsheets, using her folded arms as a pillow once she realized that hers had fallen sometime during the night. You laughed quietly at her gravely morning voice and sleep slurred words, trailing your gentle fingers down the side of her neck and over her exposed shoulders. The tank top she slept in fit tightly to her muscular build, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d seen in a while. She’d been frolicking around in your biggest sweater, hiding her perfect body from you, but it was all yours to oogle now, and you did so selfishly.

“Good Morning, baby.” Your hand slipped beneath her purple plaid tank top, nails scratching along her skin gently. She hummed in pleasure, wiggling closer to you until her head fell onto your soft thighs, her braided hair tickling the skin of your arm.

“Merry Christmas.” She smiled sleepily, finally peeling her blue eyes open to find yours in the sunlit room. You would never know how you got so lucky to have her, to call her yours and to spend every moment at her side knowing so many people wanted her for themselves, but you would thank your lucky stars until the end of time.

“Merry Christmas, Kates.” You chuckled lightly, letting your lips brush against the palm of her hand as it came up to rest on your cheek. “You slept well, if the pillow on the floor is any indication.” You giggled, belly jostling her head much to her displeasure. She grumbled mopily, digging her face further into your thighs like that was the answer to her problem.

“Always sleep well when you’re next to me.” She admitted in her delirium, unaware of how she melted your heart like a snowman in summer. Retracting her warm touch from your face in favor of rubbing out her tired eyes, she sat up straight once she felt the slightest bit of energy course through her body, finally starting to remember that today was the day she’d been counting down to since October. Her knees knocked yours, both sitting criss-crossed on the bed like kindergarten children, and with as much glee as you’d ever seen her wear, she reached for yours hands. “Merry Christmas!” She beamed brighter than a thousand ultra bright Christmas lights, perky and alert now as she really let this moment wash over her. It wasn’t the first Christmas you’d spent together as a couple, but it was the first year you’d woken up together tangled in bedsheets, in a place that you could call only your own. Clint’s little farmhouse had been home for a while, and while little kids made the holiday even sweeter, this was something new, something well deserved, and you were grateful for it everyday. Even if it lacked Lila jumping on your bed and Laura cooking waffles downstairs.

You giggled, leaning in close until your lips brushed together, fireworks exploding around the room when her lips reciprocated your movements. “Merry Christmas! Do you think Santa came?” You teased, cupping both of her cheeks in your hands and holding her close to your face, not ready to let her go just yet.

“I don't know. I think we have to check it out.” The presents had been slowly accumulating beneath the extravagant tree in the living room for weeks, both of you knew what awaited you once you descended down the stairs and made a sharp left, but that didn’t squander your joy as you raced out of bed and haphazardly shoved into each other just to say you got there first. Kate let you win, she always let you win, but it didn’t dampen your pride as you bounced around and kissed her face in a teasing celebration. “Santa came!”

“And his name is Katherine Bishop.” Your girlfriend jutted out her chest goofily, scratching at an imaginary white beard. You shook your head in fondness, taking a seat in front of the tree and the color coded presents beneath it. Ironically, both of you had chosen purple wrapping paper, though hers was a few shades darker and matched the pajamas she wore with its checkered print. You had gone a separate route then the traditional Christmas print, buying as many rolls of Hawkeye themed paper you could find once you realized it existed and sported a cartoon version of her face. Kate had laughed so loudly the first time she’d seen it, you’d do anything to hear that sound again, and you weren’t disappointed. When you handed her the first box, her face contorted with happiness, and contagious belly laughs escaped her.

You opened your presents at the same time, neither one of you having enough patience to sit around and watch the other. It didn’t take long for the living room to become a disaster of ribbons and crumpled paper, but that would be a cleanup project for later. Right now, you were just enjoying the small things.

“Last present!” Kate declared, reaching deep behind the tree and pulling out a small box you hadn’t noticed before. She had hidden it well, not that you would’ve gone around and snooped, but you could appreciate her commitment to surprises, even if she was horrible at them, always wanting to loop you in and dissect everything that had happened.

“Gimmie!” You reached for the little box, beaming from ear to ear when she placed it in your waiting hands and watched you intensely. You thought nothing of it, tearing into the paper like a madwoman. The velvet box you found beneath was no different then the boxes you’d acquired throughout your years together. Kate loved getting you nice things, and most often that was in the form of diamond bracelets or pearl necklaces. You appreciated them every time, but nothing had led you to believe that this box was different. When you flipped the lip, eager to see what awaited you, and whether it would be a gorgeous new charm for your collection or an elegant diamond bracelet, your mouth hung open in shock and tears breached your gentle eyes.

You never wanted an elaborate proposal. You had always told Kate that. You weren’t elaborate people, you didn’t need the big speech and the thousands of dollars spent on photographers and videographers to know that she meant it, but somehow this little moment was even more perfect than you could’ve anticipated. Looking up at her and away from the breathtaking engagement ring, you couldn’t help the single tear that fell down your face.

“Kate?” Your voice trembled, coming out a breathy whisper as you watched her watch you. Her eyes were the deepest shade of blue you had ever seen, a nervous grin on her face as she looked between you and the navy blue velvet box. “Are you-”

“Will you marry me?” She asked shyly, nothing but admiration in her icy eyes.

Not knowing what to say and not trusting your voice, you nodded through tears as you let her take the box and reach for your left hand. The ring fit like a glove, shimmering on your finger like that was exactly where it belonged. And it was. Blubbering like a fish out of water, you attacked the woman in a bone crushing hug, only pulling away to trap her lips in a deep kiss that couldn’t even begin to explain every emotion you were feeling.

“Merry Christmas, fiance.” She giggled against you, and you couldn’t help but laugh with her as you pulled your hand up to admire the diamonds.

“Merry Christmas, fiance.”

#kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop fic

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naturesapphic · 14 days

Note

hihi!! can you write agere cg!nat with a little who had an accident /nsxl

if not no worries 😄

Accident

Caregiver!natasha Romanoff x little!fem!reader

Warnings: age regression, bathroom accident, diapers

It was early in the morning and you were still asleep while nat woke up and went to spar with Clint. The sunlight shines through the curtains and goes over your face, illuminating your features. You open your eyes and sit up in the bed confusion written all over your face. You wondered where Natasha was and why you felt smaller than usual.

Usually your age regression age determines but it seems like today is one of those days that your age is lower than you are used to. You felt yourself needing to use the bathroom but for some reason your brain wasn’t working right and you had a accident in the bed. You felt yourself get wet by your own accident and with Natasha no where to be found you start to cry.

Friday heard your cries and reported it to Natasha immediately as she was still sparring with Clint in the gym. She heard Friday and told Clint that they can resume tomorrow and bolted towards y’all’s shared room. She went into the room to find you in the bed crying and squirming around.

She lifted the covers and found out why you are so upset and immediately lifted you into her arms. She carried you to the bathroom and sat you down on the toilet seat as she starts a nice warm bath for you. After she got the bath ready she picked you up again and placed you in the bath.

Natasha started to wash your hair and body and put a bunch of bubbles in the bath. When you saw the bubbles you started to giggle and play with them. “You go ahead and play some babygirl, I’m gonna clean the bed. I’ll be right back okay angel?” Natasha said as she leaned over and kissed your forehead.

You nodded your head in understanding and continued to play with your bubbles and toys as Natasha went out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. She stripped the bed and put the sheets and everything into the washer. As everything was washing, she put one of her big sweatshirts into the dryer to make it warm for you when you get out of the tub.

She went back to check on you and saw that you were still playing with your toys. She went back to where the washing machine was and took the sheets out and put them in the dryer. She took out the sweatshirt and laid it out on the mattress. Natasha went back in the bathroom and told you it was time to get out.

You pouted and whined, not wanting to get out just yet but Natasha raised her eyebrow and gave you THE look and you immediately stopped whining. Natasha bent down and lifted you up in her arms and started to dry you off with your fluffy towel. In some spots you were ticklish so while she was trying to get you dry, you started giggling which caused your mommy’s heart to skip a beat.

“Okay pumpkin. Let’s get you dressed. I warmed up my sweatshirt that you love to wear.” She said as a big smile came upon your lips, showing her your excitement. Natasha walked into the bedroom and helped you get dressed. She helped you put on the sweatshirt and decided to put a diaper in for you just in case. “What a good girl. Let’s go downstairs and I’ll fix you your favorite breakfast okay angel?” Natasha said and you nodded your head fast which made her chuckle. No matter what you did or how embarrassing it is, Natasha will always love you and never make you feel bad about anything.

A/n: I didn’t know how to end this but I hope the anon enjoys it and I hope the rest of y’all enjoy it too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! :)

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widowsistersandfriends · 1 year

Text

Tickle Traditions

Request: Can I request a Clint x family x Kate fic, maybe it’s set when Kate comes home with Clint for Christmas and she learns all about their traditions specifically their Christmas tickle fight? 🥰 (if you don’t want to write this prompt that’s totally ok!! Xo)

Note: To the person who sent this prompt, I am so sorry it took so long to get to. However, I think this was a good time to write it! It was a really cute prompt, and I hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!

Word Count: 1077

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It was cold and snowing outside, as a familiar car pulled up in front of the Barton household. Kate hopped out of the passenger side, helping Clint unload all the gifts for his family.

“So where’s my present?” Kate asked jokingly.

“Me bringing you here is already a gift,” Clint replied, knowing that by now Kate understood his sarcasm and snarkiness.

Kate smiled to herself, eager to spend Christmas with the Bartons for the first time in a while.

“Hello Kate, it’s so nice to see you again,” Laura said sincerely, opening the door for the two archers.

“DADDY!” Nate cried out, running over to hug his father. Clint set the presents down and picked up his youngest son, who was giggling with excitement.

Cooper and Lila came over, both giving Kate and Clint hugs.

After the hugs and greetings, they all sat down in the family room, drinking hot coco.

“So Kate, I know you haven’t been here for many Christmases, so I haven’t been able to teach you all of our traditions,” Clint said, breaking the silence.

“I’d love to learn all of your traditions!” Kate said excitedly.

“We like to build snowmen!” Nate cheered excitedly.

“No, the best part is the snowball fight!” Cooper chimed in.

“I like baking and decorating cookies the best!” Lila said, as Clint nodded in agreement.

“Me too Lila. It’s the least rowdy of them all,” Clint said, as Kate rolled her eyes playfully.

“What should we start with first? Kate, why don’t you choose?” Laura suggested.

“I think I want to start with making cookies,” Kate said, as Lila high fived her.

A few hours later, there were delicious cookies cooling down on the table. A mix of chocolate chip, sugar, and peanut butter cookies awaited. They each took a sugar cookie and began decorating it, with a variety of colored icing and sprinkles.

After decorating their own cookies, they sat down to enjoy them with glasses of milk to go with it.

“These cookies are delicious!” Nate shouted, sporting a milk mustache with crumbs on his face.

Kate giggled at the messy boy, ruffling his hair to add on to the cuteness.

After enjoying the cookies, the six of them went outside to build snowmen.

Kate made hers an archer, after herself, and was proud of her work.

“You forgot something on your snowman,” Clint said flatly.

“First of all, it’s a snowwoman. And second of all, it’s perfect,” Kate replied, turning her nose in the air.

“No, if it’s made after you then you forgot the goofy grin on its face,” Clint replied with a smirk.

“I don’t have a goofy grin!” Kate exclaimed, as she was hit in the stomach with a snowball.

“OOF!” The archer doubled over.

“Who threw that?!?” Kate questioned, with the silly, goofy grin that Clint was talking about.

“See, there it is. All you need to do is add it,” Clint said while laughing.

“Oh that’s it,” Kate said, throwing a snowball at Clint, as Cooper declared a snowball fight.

Snowballs were fired, as everyone tried their best to dodge them. Kate snuck around, hiding behind a bush, waiting for her chance.

She saw Clint was distracted, so she quickly snuck up behind him and dumped snow down his back.

“AAAHHH,” Clint yelped, as Kate quickly ran towards the kids to protect herself.

“Oh you’ve done it Kate,” Clint said, shaking his head with a smile.

“You guys are on my side, right?” Kate asked the kids.

“No!” Nate shouted bluntly.

Kate’s eyes widened, as she was then chased inside of the house, where the three kids tackled her onto the couch.

“What are you—AHAHAHAAHAHAHA,” Kate laughed, as she was now being tickled by all three Batron children.

“We forgot to tell you about our traditional Christmas tickle fight,” Lila said, as they tickled all over her upper body.

Clint eventually came inside, helping pin Kate while the kids continued to tickle her.

“NOHOHOHO THIHIHIS IHIHISN’T FAHAHAIR,” Kate yelled out.

“Hey this is on you. You put snow down my back,” Clint replied, now letting her up and temporarily having mercy.

Kate now got her revenge, tickling the kids worse than she got.

Their laughter rang out throughout the house, mixed with squeals and lots of shouting.

“Clint, you’re the only one who hasn’t been tickled,” Kate said teasingly.

Before Clint could escape, Kate and the kids pinned him, as Kate began to tickle his armpits.

“KAHAHAHTE NOHOHOHOHO,” Clint cried out, unable to squirm away, as his children were stronger than he thought.

“Awwww the big bad archer can’t handle a little tickling?” Kate asked, now tickling his stomach and sides.

Clint was lost in laughter, as Kate switched off with the kids so they could also torture him.

They eventually let him go, as he lay there panting.

Kate quickly tried to run away, but Clint caught her foot, causing her to trip and fall facing downwards.

Clint quickly pinned her, digging into her ribs and sides, causing the poor girl to squeal with laughter.

“CLIHIHIHINT STAHAHAHAHAHAP,” Kate screamed, squirming to get away unsuccessfully.

“Welcome to the family tradition!” Clint said teasingly, as Kate was still hysterically giggling and laughing.

Clint began to tickle her armpits, while the kids got her sensitive feet.

“OHOHOKAY MEHEHEHERCY PLEHEHEHEASE,” Kate cried out, as they eventually let her up.

“That was fun!” Nate said, as Clint pulled him into his lap to give him a few more tickles, making the little boy squeal with laughter.

Kate threw a playful glare at Clint, as he just shrugged.

“I think we all know Kate’s favorite Christmas tradition,” Clint said, as Kate rolled her eyes playfully.

“You’re lucky I’m nice,” Kate said, giving Clint a look of warning.

“Nice? You’re the one putting snow down my back,” Clint retorted.

Kate pouted in defeat, knowing that if she said the wrong thing, she would get tickled to pieces again.

After a few moments of silence, Kate spoke up.

“Thank you for having me over for Christmas. I really enjoyed all the traditions,” Kate said shyly.

“Anytime Kate. You’re always welcome here,” Laura responded.

“And she makes a great tickle target,” Lila teased, as Kate reached out to tickle the younger girl.

With that, round two of the traditional Christmas tickle fight resumed, filling the air with laughter. Kate knew that she had finally found her place, and Clint knew that he had just gained an extra child.

#kate bishop #clint barton #marvel tickle fic #marvel tickle #mcu tickle fic #mcu tickle #hawkeye #ticklish!kate bishop #ticklish!kate #ler!kate bishop #ler!clint #ticklish!clint #barton family #tickle fic #avengers tickle #tickle fight #tickle fanfiction #christmas #christmas fic

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supermarvel-fics · 2 years

Text

Tickletober Day 24: Don't Move

fandom: marvel

word count: 770

pairing: clint barton x reader (platonic)

summary: clint helps you with your stance.

As you got back in your stance, you briefly thought if Steve and Nat were this tough on Sam and Wanda. Clint was a great mentor and you were grateful that he decided to take you under his wing, but he was tough on you and after your sessions with him, you left feeling defeated.

Clint assured you that he wasn’t hard on you because he thought you were bad, it was only to make you better and your subconscious knew that, but as you kept hitting the arrow just outside of the target time and time again, you couldn’t help the surge of disappointment.

“What am I doing wrong?” You shook your head, turning to Clint. Your bow was gripped tight in your hand to keep yourself from throwing it across the room. “I feel like everything I do here is wrong and that you think I’m shitty at archery or something.”

Clint chuckled a little—more out of pity than out of genuine amusement. “I don’t think you’re shitty. I’ve seen what you can do in and out of this room. You’re a force to be reckoned with and if you tell Kate I said any of this, I’ll kick your ass, but you’re better than her. You’re stronger and you’re sharp-witted and you have an amazing work ethic. Square up and start again.”

He pointed to the target and grinned slightly when you blushed at his compliments before sighing and turning back around. You planted your feet firmly on the ground and pulled the arrow back with vigor.

“Don’t move!” You heard Clint shout as he footsteps marched up behind you. You were caught off guard, flinching a little before registering what he’d said and pausing exactly where you needed to.

“Why?” You asked.

“It’s your hips. They’re not squared off,” He replied, gruffly placing his hands on your hips to put them in the right place. He squeezed them a bit when you resisted out of habit, causing you to squeak and buckle away from his touch. “I said don’t move!”

“I’m sorry! You surprised me!”

Clint took his hands off of you and backed away. “Reset and go back to your stance.”

Sighing, you relaxed your shoulders, dropping them and letting the tension in your body release. Again, you put your feet where they were supposed to be and got into position.

“Good. Now, don’t move,” He ordered. You nodded and held your breath to ensure you wouldn’t move even an inch. He nudged your back foot, silently telling you to shift it to the right. You did it without hesitation.

You heard him hum just before gripping your hips again, pushing them into the correct position. He accidentally squeezed them again, a giggle slipping from your lips this time. You tried to stay still, but Clint moved his hands a little higher to turn your torso and you weren’t able to stop yourself arching away from him.

“What about ‘don’t move’ do you not understand?”

“You keep tickling me! It’s instinct!” You yelled back at him. “Be more careful!”

Clint pinched at your sides rapidly, smiling when he heard the bubbly laughter come from your throat. “That’s very cute, but you need to be more professional.”

“PROHOFESSIONAHAL? You’re the ohone tihickling me!” You squealed, stepping away from his hands and turning to face him. “I’m pretty sure I’m the mature one in this scenario.”

“Watch it! I know you’re ticklish now and can use it against you,” Clink winked at you, your face heating up at the thought of it. “But seriously, reset one more time, I’ll be more careful.” He held his hands up in surrender to show that he was true to his word.

You did as you were told, setting up for the third time, mentally preparing yourself for his hands on your hips. Only they never touched you.

“Nice. Now twist your hips a bit to the left so that they’re facing the target head on while keeping your shoulders exactly where they are,” Clint instructed. You followed his words to a T, grinning when you heard him praise you. “Perfect. Now, shoot.”

You let the arrow fly, surprised to see that it was mere inches away from the bullseye. You gasped in delight, turning to Clint with a toothy smile.

“Do that every time. Turn your hips to the target and you’ll hit it every time.”

“Thank you, Clint, for not giving up on me,” You said shyly, dropping the bow so you could wrap your arms around him. He slowly reciprocated the hug, chuckling in response.

“Anytime, kiddo.”

#marvel #marvel tickle #mcu #tickle fic #tickle prompts #lee!reader #ticklish!reader #sfw tickle fic #ler!clint #clint barton #augtickletober2022 #tickletober prompts #tickletober2022

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valiantphantomangel · 1 year

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hey! here’s a sentence starter for ya!! ik u wanna do ler!bucky&steve and lee!reader, so maybe they could like get mad at the reader for eating the last two cookies, and then chase them around and end up tickling them to pieces on the couch!! :D

sentence starter: “wait… steve, why are the last two cookies gone? did you eat them?”

Yes!!! I love this!!

Hope you like it💟

The cookie thief

"Wait... Steve, why are the last two cookie's gone, did you eat them?".

You were just about to walk into the common room with a cookie box in your hand when you heard bucky say that, quickly looking at the front of the box you saw in very clear letter's 'property of the super soldiers'.

Dammit why didn't I see that you cursed, taking the sugar from them was almost as serious when someone took Thor's pop tarts.

Looking for a good place to hide the evidence was a jacket from Clint hanging there. Perfect.

Hiding the box was a bit tricky since the stupid guy wore such thin jacket's but it worked.

Trying to act casually, you walked to the kitchen to get something to eat and sure enough double trouble was there.

"Hey guys" you said trying very hard not to let your voice crack.

"oh hey Y/N have you seen if anyone has taken out cookie box"? Steve said it like it was a war crime which made it even harder not to laugh.

"Now that you mention it, i did see Clint walking past me with a cookie box, but I'm not sure if it was yours".

By dumb luck you knew that no one was on a mission which came in handy when it was needed to blame someone.

The two super soldiers's speed walked away and a few minutes later Clint's bright laugh ring around in the compound, letting out a small laugh you opened the fridge, sneaking out a cola.

Sitting down on one of the many couche you zapped through the channel's until you found f/s (favorite show) and laid back in the couch cushions.

About two episodes later Steve and buck came in, when they sat on either side of you, panic started to set in.

"So did you find your sweets"? You innocently asked.

"Yes we did and found out something very interesting when we tortured Barton" bucky replied, with that very troubling smirk.

You swallowed, "Really"?

"When Barton was in need of a break he said something of quit importance, what was it again Steve"

"I believe it was "It was Y/N" he screamed it very loud, do you know why he would say that"?

"N no" damn why would I stutter now!!

"We think you do and besides" buck leaned forward and whispered in your ear "You have the crumbs on your hoodie".

Knowing that there wasn't a second to waste you jumped to your feet and made run for it.

The thundering of their footsteps was nerve wracking, a place to hide that it what you needed and fast.

Deciding that your closet was so obvious which made it the safest you hide there.

After about 10 minutes it was silent in the hallway, no footsteps, no whispering, no nothing.

The coast was clear.

Knowing that if you made it to the lab, thanks to your clearance, you could lock down the lab.

Getting out of the closet as quickly as possible, the journey to the lab began.

Sneaking was never one of your talents, but when it's needed everything becomes a talent, making the echo's of your footsteps silent and ducking away when there was another pair of footsteps, was doing very well.

The lab was right around the corner, you almost made it, almost.

"Well, well, well what do we have here" you jumped at the sound of Steve's voice, before you could even make a step you were trapped in a bear hug.

"Bucky, i got our little thief" he screamed and not a minute later mister smug face came around the corner.

Steve laced his hands in your ribs and a scream of laughter came over your lips, knees bucking from underneath you.

The stupid ass soldiers immediately pinned you down on your back and attacked your weak spots.

"AHHHHAHAHHAHAHA IMHIHIHI SORRY"

"What was that Y/N i didn't hear you" buck said blowing a raspberry on your tummy making you arch your back.

"I SAID IM SORRY AHHHHAHAHHAHAHA STOPPHHAHAHA"

"Look at you all cute and adorable" Steve said pinching your knees.

"I see you found her" said Clint from the doorway.

"Ah Barton would you like some revenge".

"HELP AHAHAHAHAHA" you screamed out hoping that he would have mercy.

"I dont really need revenge" and he walked away "But before you let her go make sure that she has all of her ribs" the grin in his voice was easily heard.

The one dead spot that only Clint knew was on the bottom ribs and the bastard basically just told them that.

"DAMNNHAHAHAHAHA YOU CLINTHIHIIH"

Your tormenters looked at each other and with out saying a word the duck into the bottom ribs.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA" the scream of laughter that came over your libs echoed through the halls.

After a few minutes of torture you fell into silent laughter and they let up.

"You good kid" buck asked, you only huffed in responsible causing the soldiers to laugh.

A pair of arms lifted you of the ground and carried you back to the common room, where the were watching Harry Potter.

They set you next to Thor who wharped a arm around you.

"What happend to you young one" he asked with a laugh.

"Stole some cookies didn't end well" you mumbled and the god let out a loud laugh.

"What did you do to her"? Nat asked

"She stole our cookies so we tickled the hell out of her" buck answered.

"Language".

Secretly you enjoyed every second of it and believe me the two assholes knew very well.

A/N yes finally finished this fic, it was the first time doing such a long fic but i believe it turned out okay.

#ler!bucky #ler!steve #lee!reader #tickle fic #tickle punishment #cookie thief #ticklish!reader #marvel tickle #clint barton #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #bucky barnes #tag team #mcu tickle fic #ticklish ribs #raspberries #request #not proofread

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inneedofsupervision · 5 months

Text

Masterlist

Here you can find all the fanfics I have written. Feel free to reblog, like and comment on whatever you enjoyed reading. You can find all of them on Ao3 too.

Short Info: All relationships in my fics are strongly platonic and without sexual themes unless explicitly stated otherwise.

Marvel

So, you got Detention - Lee! Peter Parker / Ler! Steve Rogers (Read on Ao3)

The Big Bad Wolf And The Itsy Bitsy Spider - Lee! Peter Parker / Ler! Bucky (Read on Ao3)

Suit Up - Lee! Peter Parker / Ler! Ned (Read on Ao3)

An eventfull Tuesday Afternoon - Series (completed)

Part 1: No Spilling Secrets - Lee! Peter Parker / Ler! Clint, Sam, Bucky (Read on Ao3)

Part 2: Hey Mister Villain - Lee! Peter Parker / Ler! Tony Stark (Read on Ao3)

Non-Tickle Fics

Marvel

An Enemy? A Friend? No, just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3

Summary:

Are the Avengers a Team? Yes. Are they on good terms? Not necessarily. Has the public caught up on that? Maybe a little. When Fury sends the team on the mission to investigate the identity of New York's favorite vigilante, they have to learn to work as a team and not damage their already battered image. Or, the story of how the Avengers have to earn the public's trust back with the help of a certain crime fighting Spider.

(Read on Ao3)

#masterlist #marvel fanfic #marvel tickle fic #tickling #spiderman #peter parker #ticklish! peter parker #avengers fanfiction #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america #clint barton #hawkeye #sam wilson #falcon #bucky barnes #winter soldier #tony stark #iron man

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 2 years

Text

In a Past Life

Word count: 3,400

Pairing: Wanda and Clint x female reader (platonic)

Warnings: None that I can think of - some mild swearing maybe

This was based on a recently changed Prompt by a lovely anon requesting a fic where Wanda and the reader learn Clint was in a band. I had no idea Jeremy Renner actually sings songs - I've learned something new!

This was cute and fun to write, I hope you enjoy!

Nostalgia was spreading through the team like wildfire nowadays.

It seemed as the years went on, the crime rates only escalated. People were frustrated. Angry. Hateful. Days off from 'avenging' seemed to be few and far between lately. There was always a new crime ring, or a new wave of political unrest to attend to.

Naturally, it had you all longing for the good old days.

You happened across Clint seated in the common room one afternoon during one of those moments where the nostalgia flame was burning inside him. He was seated on the end of the sofa, a photo album spread open in his lap. There was a wistful smile on his face as his eyes roamed across the glossy pages, his hand occasionally lifting to run a finger along the edge of a photograph as though longing to touch the people pictured in the image.

"Whatcha got there?" you queried, wandering into the room and catching the archer's attention. He grinned up at you as his eyes lifted from the pages to meet yours.

"Just some old pictures of the family. Look - this was from when Cooper was just a baby." He beckoned you closer, shifting the photo album so you could get a better look at the photograph he was referring to. You took a seat on the sofa beside him, leaning over the page.

"Aww, look how young you looked!" With a chuckle, you pointed to the younger version of Clint standing beside his wife holding his first born.

"I was pretty damn good looking, wasn't I? Still am, of course," he boasted jestingly.

"Eh... you still gave off dad vibes even back then." You nudged him with your elbow teasingly. "Where was this one taken?" you asked, pointing at a photo on the next page with just Clint and his wife.

"That was our white water rafting trip in Maine. Without the kids, of course."

"You went rafting? Now that I can't picture."

"Hey!" he exclaimed indignantly. "I am an Avenger, thank you very much. I'm more than capable of handling a few rapids."

"Don't let him fool you," Wanda's voice echoed suddenly from the doorway. "Natasha told me he nearly landed himself in the hospital after falling out of the raft on that trip."

Clint scoffed. "I told her not to go around telling that story!" he muttered under his breath. You patted him hard on the shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

"Aww, don't worry, Clint... I wouldn't have believed you anyway."

"Ha, ha." He shoved your hand off his shoulder, rolling his eyes. "Remind me, again, why I hang out with you two?"

"Obviously you just use us to fill the void when your own kids aren't around."

"Uh-uh. If you two were my surrogate kids, you'd be much better behaved."

"What fun would we be if we were well-behaved?" Wanda joked with a wink. Before Clint could respond, his phone began ringing in his pocket.

"It's Laura - I'd better take this. Try not to make too many jokes at my expense while I'm gone, alright?" He slid the photo album off his lap onto the sofa cushion beside him, exiting the room as he brought the phone up to his ear and answered it.

Wanda took Clint's vacated spot on the couch beside you, scooping the photo album into her lap and flipping forward a few pages. "Aww, look! Laura must have been pregnant with Lila in this one," she cooed, pointing to a picture of the growing young family at the park where Laura's belly had the telltale roundness of pregnancy.

"Yup - look, there's baby Lila right here," you confirmed, pointing to another photo of a newborn on the following page. You pinched a few of the glossy pages in your fingers and flipped them, making a noise of surprise when a loose photo fluttered out of the page you'd just turned to. "Wait... what's this?"

"Oh, now this is interesting..." Wanda snatched up the photo and brought it closer to her face, an incredulous grin spreading across her lips. "Take a look!"

You took the photo from her, squinting a bit to see the grainy faces better. It was a photo of a rock band on a stage, complete with an electric guitar player, a bassist, and a drummer. And there, standing in the center of the stage with a microphone pressed to his lips...

"No. Way." You glanced up wide-eyed at Wanda, grinning with elated surprise. "Clint was the lead singer in a band??"

"He's never mentioned it before." She leaned over your shoulder to view the photo once again. "But that's definitely him."

"How old does he look in this? Like... late twenties?" Scanning down to the bottom of the photo, you could see the edge of a shadowy sea of heads of the audience in front of the stage. "It's hard to tell, but it looks like there's a lot of people watching. You think they were famous?"

"Maybe not famous... we'd have heard by now if a fellow Avenger was also a world famous lead singer," Wanda pondered aloud.

"Well maybe they were a local sensation?"

"Must have been, with that many people. Didn't he grow up in a small town?"

"I think so." You glanced up as you heard heavy footsteps approaching the doorway to the common room, grinning as Clint reappeared. "Hey Clint!" You waved the photo for him to see. "Why have you never told us you were in a rock band??"

"What??" His face tinged red as he came closer to view the photo, snatching it from your outstretched hand. When he registered what was pictured in the image, he grimaced. "Damnit. You weren't supposed to see this... how did it get in there??"

"Why don't you want people to know?" Wanda probed, an equally sly grin on her face.

"Because I was young and stupid back then-"

"Hey! You couldn't have been that far from our age in that photo," you protested indignantly.

"-and anyway... it's embarrassing." He folded the photo and slipped it into his pocket.

"I don't know, you looked a lot cooler then than you do now," Wanda teased. "Can you still sing?"

"Ooh, yeah, sing something for us!" you urged.

"No. Absolutely not." He leaned over and seized the photo album from Wanda's lap, snapping it shut. "You two just forget that you saw that photo, you hear me?"

"Mm... nope, sorry, it's already burned in my brain."

"Yep. Not going away anytime soon." You glanced at Wanda with a smirk, chuckling as Clint groaned in frustration.

"Why did I leave that photo in there..." he muttered under his breath as he turned on his heel and left the room.

This sort of banter wasn't uncommon for the three of you. While you enjoyed teasing Clint that you and Wanda were like his surrogate kids in the compound, he truly had become a mentor for the both of you. Maybe it was that fatherly instinct in him that made him gravitate towards the role. Even though you loved to push his buttons, you appreciated his advice and guidance, and he secretly enjoyed taking the two of you under his wing.

He had naturally adopted Wanda as his mentee when she and her brother defected from Ultron to assist the Avengers. There was no way he could have known at the time, but having Clint to turn to as Wanda navigated the confusing and tumultuous changes in her life was incredibly important to her. Without Pietro, she had no familiar faces, no comforting shoulder to lean on. Clint was able to provide her with a sense of stability while she grew accustomed to her new life.

When you joined the team years later, you became fast friends with the young witch. Consequently, you'd spent a lot of time with the archer during your early training sessions. He certainly wasn't someone you'd go to for more personal matters, like dating advice, but Clint was incredibly helpful when it came to post-mission debriefings and arguments with other team members. And, truthfully, you both enjoyed each other's company.

With all the teasing he did of you and Wanda, there was absolutely no way the two of you were going to let this go. So, naturally, you did what any self-respecting surrogate kids would do, and irritated the hell out of him for the next few days.

"Hey Clint - I thought I heard you humming while you were cooking breakfast this morning, was it one of your old songs?"

"Did you have a cool singer name when you were in the band? I mean, 'Clint Barton' is hardly rock star material..."

"How are we supposed to know if your voice was any good if you won't sing for us?"

Usually, your snide, teasing comments were quickly followed by Clint chasing you out of the room or swatting at you with a spatula while he cooked. Still, you and Wanda were bound and determined to get him to sing something for you. The curiosity only continued to build every time he refused.

One evening, you were finally able to corner him.

Neither of you had planned it. The two of you had headed to the common room to watch a movie, and just so happened to come across Clint where he sat watching the six-o-clock news. It was far too perfect an opportunity not to jump on it.

With a knowing glance at one another, you and Wanda simultaneously rounded the sofa and took a seat on either side of the startled arrow wielder. Once he realized who it was that had suddenly accosted him, he let out a heaving sigh and leaned back against the backrest.

"What do you two want?"

You gasped, feigning insult. "Wow. My feelings are hurt."

"Yeah, don't you love us anymore, Barton?" Wanda added with a fake pout. Clint rolled his eyes, but the suppressed grin was visibly tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Depends on what you're here for. You gonna watch the news with me?"

"Pshh. Ew, no. There's nothing but depressing stuff going on nowadays."

"Yeah, well... I like to keep up on it anyway." He held the remote out toward the television, turning the screen off so he could give you his full attention. "Now, what do you want?"

"You know exactly what we want," Wanda responded with a smirk.

"When are you gonna sing for us?" you added. Clint folded his arms across his chest.

"You two are annoyingly persistent, you know that?"

"Yeah... it's one of my best qualities," Wanda jested.

"You could make it stop if you'd just sing something..." you hummed, prodding his side with your finger.

"Ack- hehey! Don't do that!" he scolded, swatting at your hand. Your gaze met Wanda's across the sofa, a knowing grin spreading across your faces.

"What, this?" Wanda poked his other side, snickering when he jolted away from her hand.

"N-now, cut that out."

"Clint - I never knew you were ticklish!" you exclaimed, pinching his side a few times in rapid succession. He barked out a laugh, folding away from you until Wanda began prodding at his other side.

"Okahay! Yes, I'm ticklish!" he confirmed reluctantly, suddenly standing up and stumbling a couple steps away from the two of you. "That does not mean I'm going to sing anything for you."

"Clint, you know I'm much stronger than you are," Wanda warned as he spun around to face you both, wriggling her fingers teasingly in the air in his direction.

"Yeah, plus she's got magic. You don't stand a chance," you added with a devious smirk. His eyes darted between the two of you as you gazed pleadingly up at him, finally groaning defeatedly.

"Alright, alright... come with me. I'll do you one better." He beckoned you both to follow him with a wave.

Clint led you up to his own room, stepping inside and crossing over to his closet where he began rummaging through a dusty-appearing storage bin. You glanced at Wanda with your eyebrows raised in confusion, to which she merely shrugged in response.

"I know you're in here... aha!" Clint pulled out a CD case from the bin, turning back to give you both a firm look. "Now - this is not to leave the three people standing in this room, you hear me? You are privileged to be borrowing this."

"Your secret is safe with us," you assured, holding your hand out expectantly for the CD. Hesitantly, he placed the case in your hand. You observed the title on the cover of the case, nearly snorting out loud. "Your band was called the Screaming Sharks??"

"Yeah, yeah, I know... make fun all you want." He rolled his eyes. "You've got one hour to listen to that and then I'm taking it back. Hope you still have a CD player somewhere."

"Don't worry, Vision has one." Clint scowled as Wanda grinned cheekily at him. "Come on, we'd better get going so we can listen to the whole thing."

And so, you found yourself sitting on Wanda's bedroom floor as she popped the CD into Vision's old CD player, completely shocked at the music that began to play. Judging by Wanda's slackened jaw, she, too, was quite surprised.

"Wow - they were... really good!" you exclaimed, bobbing your head to the 90s-style rock music. "I would have never known Clint could sing."

"Me either!" Wanda leaned her back against her bedpost, shutting her eyes as she listened. You fell silent, trying to wrap your head around the fact that this incredible music was created in part by Clint Barton.

It took nearly the full hour Clint had offered you to listen to the whole CD. Rather than waiting for him to come hunt you both down, you and Wanda headed back to the common room where Clint had thankfully found a sitcom to watch instead of the news.

"Why do you hide this from everyone? You were amazing!" you praised, handing the CD case back to your mentor. He couldn't hide the grin that spread across his face.

"That was me in a past life. I just don't dwell on the past too much."

"But you were so much cooler back then!" Wanda teased.

"Hey - I like to think I'm still cool! I am an Avenger, you know."

"Just being an Avenger doesn't automatically make you cool. You've gotta look and act cool too," you argued.

"Oh, and I don't?"

"Eh..." You shrugged, laughing as he scowled and rolled his eyes. He wrapped an arm around each of you, squeezing you affectionately.

"You two are lucky I like you," he grumbled. "Anyway - now that you've finally gotten your wish and heard me singing, there's something I have to ask you both."

"Oh?"

"And what might that be?"

His eyes darted between the two of you for a moment, ducking his head as if to tell you a secret. Instinctively, you both leaned in a bit closer to listen to what he had to ask. His voice was a low, gruff rumble when he spoke.

"Are you... ticklish?"

Before either of you could react, he'd dug his fingers into your side where they rested, presumably doing the same to Wanda as she burst into laughter along with you. You shoved helplessly at his hand, trying to pry his fingers off your side. Clint tightened his grip with a ridiculous, evil-sounding laugh.

"CLIHINT!!" Wanda protested.

"Don't 'Clint' me! You two have been royal pains in the ass for the last few days! It's time I get some well-deserved payback!"

With a sudden burst of red light, Wanda freed herself from Clint's grip with ease using her magic. Taking advantage of his moment of surprise, you twisted harshly to try to break free as well, but his arm tightened around your waist just before you could stand.

"You know very well that I'm stronger than you," Wanda touted with a smirk.

"Yeah, yeah... only because you've got those magic powers of yours," he grumbled. His gaze turned to you with an impish smirk. "But you aren't stronger than me."

"I- but- Wanda will protect me, though!" You shot her a pleading look. "Right?"

"Well... you have been teasing him for days, you know," she hummed, a smirk pulling at her lips.

"What?? So have you!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She took a seat on a separate chair, crossing her legs and leaning back as though preparing to watch the show.

"Oh-hoho! She betrayed you!" Clint laughed, digging his fingers into both your sides now that his other arm was free. You screeched and curled your knees up to your chest instinctively.

"WANDA! Yohou TRAHAITOR!"

"Bet you regret it now, huh?" Clint teased, slotting a hand between your legs and your torso to claw at your belly and bypass your defenses.

"N-ahah-nohope!"

"Oh yeah? Guess I'm not trying hard enough." He swiftly shifted to dig his hands into the middle of your ribcage, earning himself an explosion of laughter as you thrashed in his grasp. "Wow, you're worse than my kids, aren't you?"

"Oh, she's ridiculously ticklish," Wanda declared.

"SHUHUT UP- NO, NOHO, NO!" You squeezed your arms tight to your sides in protest as Clint tried shoving his fingers up under your arms.

"You can't hide from me - I have years of tickle monster experience. You should never have messed with me." Clint succeeded in his efforts, wriggling his fingertips into the narrow space you'd left under your arms. You attempted to let yourself topple over sideways to escape his tickling fingers. He held fast, shifting his grip to pin your back to his chest while continuing his torment.

"OK, OKAHAY! I GIHIVE!" you pleaded, muscles growing weak with laughter.

"Oh, she just doesn't want you to find your weak spot," Wanda interjected.

"Oh yeah? Where's that?"

"WANDA! DOHON'T YOU DAHAHARE!"

"Try the front of her ribs," she suggested, ignoring your protests. Without giving you time to react, he tugged his hands free from under your arms and began pinching rapidly at your lower front ribs. One final shrieky protest was all you had left before you fell silent with breathy laughter, tapping desperately at his hand to tap out. After another moment, he ceased his torment and released you from his hold. You leaned against the back of the couch in complete exhaustion.

"Let that be a lesson for you - don't mess with Hawkeye." Clint poked your side, chuckling as you squeaked.

"Noho! No mohore!" you whined. Shooting a glare at Wanda, you added, "And you are a traitor!"

"What? One of us had to bear the brunt of his payback, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be me."

"You're lucky you have magic on your side..." you grumbled. "Damn, I feel bad for your kids - you're ruthless."

"It's a required skill in the 'dad' job description," he jested. "Now - you two are going to keep this little band thing to yourselves, right?"

"Oh, of course."

"Absolutely."

"Good." He stood up, moving toward the door. "I've gotta go call the family, say goodnight to the kids. See you tomorrow."

"G'night, Clint!"

You listened as his footsteps faded down the hallway out of earshot, turning to Wanda.

"So... are we really gonna keep this secret?" you asked.

"Oh, absolutely not." She tilted her head toward the door. "Let's go tell Tony. Then everyone will know about it."

"Wait, hang on a minute." You reached around behind the throw pillow on the end of the couch, pulling out a blank CD case with Clint's band's CD inside. Wanda's jaw fell open in surprise, her eyes flashing with pride.

"You sneaky little witch!"

"Not that sneaky," you shrugged humbly, "He's just really easy to pull tricks on."

You were certain, as the two of you hurried to Tony's lab to share Clint's secret band music, that you'd be in trouble the moment Clint discovered the CD was missing. But honestly, Clint wasn't going to brag about his own accomplishments to the team, so somebody had to. And, after all -

You couldn't call yourselves his surrogate kids if you didn't push his buttons from time to time.

#ticklish!reader #tickle fluff #tickle fic #marvel tickle #clint barton x reader #wanda x reader

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katethewriter · 2 years

Text

Last Wish

Pairing: WandaNat x Barton!Reader, Clint Barton x Reader(siblings)

Words: 10k

Summary: Wanda has known grief, but not like this.

Warnings: angst, all of the angst, major character death, Vormir, survivor’s guilt, no happy ending, grief and mourning, please let me know if I missed one

A/N: this is the one I told you to grab tissues for. I'm not sorry, you were warned lol, it’s a long one, and I’m actually really proud of this one, so I hope you like it ☺️

NOW

Sunlight beams through the window, landing fully on Wanda’s face. She groans, wincing when the light burns her eyes.

A set of arms reach out and wrap around her waist. A smile stretches across her face as she lets herself be pulled back into the cocoon that she rolled out of sometime in the night. A trail of kisses is left by a familiar set of lips across her shoulder.

“Good morning, lyubov,” Natasha whispers into her ear.

The Sokovian rolls over to face her girlfriend, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips once they are face to face. “Good morning,” she bumps noses with the assassin.

The sound of a clearing throat comes from the other side of Natasha. “Good morning to you too,” you scoff sarcastically. “Where’s my good morning kiss?”

The two women giggle.

In less than a second, Natasha has scooped you up and switched spots with you. Now, with you settled between them, the Russian playfully raises an eyebrow, “I woke you up with good morning kisses.” She leans down to press her lips to yours to further prove her point.

“You may have, but there are those amongst us who refuse to do so,” you pout.

Grabbing your chin, Wanda guides you to look at her and smiles, “I am so sorry, my love. Please accept my deepest apologies. Allow me to remedy the situation.”

The kiss she gives you is soft and slow and thorough. By the time she lets you come up for air, you feel dizzy and completely under her spell.

“Good morning, my beautiful detka,” Wanda gazes down at you, eyes full of adoration, “was my apology to your satisfaction?”

Smiling giddy, you reply, “I think it will do.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, a grumbling sound comes from your stomach. Your girlfriends laugh as you attempt to cover your face.

“Well, I guess we know Y/n’s hungry,” Natasha teases. Her fingers dance across your ticklish sides.

Wanda watches happily but does not partake. She learned her lesson the time she tried to tickle you and ended up with a stray elbow to the stomach.

When Natasha finally gives you a break, Wanda leans down to kiss your head, “I will make us some breakfast.” She grabs Nat’s chin to kiss her as well before rolling off the bed.

The moment her bare toes meet the cold hard wood floor, an almost electric pulse runs up her body, and everything goes black.

The witch jolts awake in an empty bed and cold sheets. She peers at her surroundings reminding herself where she is…

The bedroom of a cabin in the middle of nowhere, completely alone.

She cries, lying there contemplating the series of events that led her here. The downfall of her relationship.

One lover gone from Wanda’s life, while the other is just gone.

Both made the choice to leave her. After all that’s happened, all that she has said and done, the guilt weighs heavy on the witch, but she can make it right. She can fix it.

Wanda walks through the rows of trees, trimming along the way. You had planted them before you left.

The three of you chose this place because it was beautiful. You wanted somewhere beautiful to call home after your time as Avengers came to an end. But now, Wanda lives here alone.

Soft steps on the grass alert Wanda to the arrival of another.

“Apples?”

She turns to find Stephen Strange approaching. “Eventually,” she offers the small limb out for him to take.

The Doctor takes branch, bringing the flower to his nose to smell, “it smells…..”

“Sweet,” Wanda finishes, “but that’s not why you came.” She plucks the limb from his hand and turns to place it in a box with the others, “what are you here for?”

She suspects why he is here, but she needs to hear him say it.

Stephen slightly cocks his head to the side, “I just came to see how you are doing.”

The Sokovian turns to face him, “and why would you do that?”

“We’re friends. That’s what friends do.”

Wanda folds her arms, “We fight one purple titan together, and that makes us besties?” She adds a twinge of petulance to last word. “Come now, Stephen,” she continues her walk through the trees, “let’s discuss what you really came to discuss.”

The Sorcerer falls into step with the her with a sigh, “alright, we’ve detected a growth in dark energy congregating in this area. I do some investigating, and I end up here. You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t have the slightest idea,” Wanda shakes her head, “I left the magic behind me.”

Stephen huffs, “so it seems.” He stops walking and lets Wanda get a few steps behind before she notices. “This magic you are meddling in, it is the kind to corrupt everything and everyone it touches,” he warns. “Whatever you are trying to do isn’t worth what could happen.”

“Why do you assume I am trying to do something?” Wanda takes a step closer to him. “The only thing I am trying to do is to find some peace in my life. After everything I have been through, don’t I at least deserve that?” The pain is ebbing again. The gaping hole in her life making itself known.

The Doctor retreats a step, “of course, you do, but destruction with dark magic won’t help you achieve it.”

“I have nothing left to destroy. Is there something else I can help you with?”

Stephen sighs. He knows this conversation is going nowhere. She isn’t ready to give it up, and he can’t convince her. The only thing he can do is continue to monitor the situation and pray he can intervene in time if necessary.

The Sorcerer opens a portal back to the sanctum. Before he walks through it, he turns one last time, “just don’t let it destroy you, Wanda. She wouldn’t want that.”

After he is gone, Wanda returns to the house and into the basement. Her eyes dance over the pages as she searches for a way to fix this mess. She reminds herself of her mission and repeats over and over to herself.

“I will get her back.”

THEN

A tear falls from your eye as you look out over the horizon. The floating red man’s words play on a loop in your head.

‘A soul for a soul.’

Your heart breaks at the thought of not getting to be there when Wanda returns. You think of Clint and his family, your family, how this will affect them.

But your soul grows angry at the thought of that purple giant winning. You fear the possibility of failing again, of everyone you love and half of the world remaining dead. You take a deep breath and step towards the edge of the cliff.

You are brought to a halt by an iron grasp on your arm pulling you back.

“Over my dead body,” Natasha looks you in the face. Your partner stares into your eyes as intensely.

“Natasha, if we don’t get that stone, billions of people stay dead. Wanda stays dead,” your voice cracks at the mention of her name. Your third that you both have missed desperately since the snap. “I can’t allow that.”

The widow places her hands on your shoulders to get your complete attention, “and I cannot allow you to do this.”

“You have to,” you shake your head sadly, “it has to be me. The team needs you. The world needs you. Wanda will need you.”

“You don’t think she’ll need you too?” Tears gather in her eyes, “Y/n, she loves you so much.”

“She loves you more.”

“NO,” the redhead denies firmly, “and what about Clint? How am I supposed to face him and tell him his baby sister is gone?”

A sad smile graces your lips, “he’ll have his best friend to help him through it.”

“You’re his best friend.”

You shake your head, denying her statement.

“It’ll be ok,” you pull her into your arms, “you’ll be ok. You and Wanda and everyone, you all will be ok.”

She cups your face, tears streaming down both of your cheeks, “we wouldn’t, ever.”

You bring her in to gently press your lips to hers. She deepens the kiss, and you both know what this means. This is goodbye. You can feel it.

Only question is who is leaving.

Pulling back, the two of you hold each other for the last time.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

In a second, you grab her wrist and spin her to cuff her hands behind her back. You knock her off her feet, and she crashes to the ground in a heap. The terror on her face nearly breaks you, but you steel yourself and dash for the edge.

You don’t even make it halfway before you collapse to the ground in pain. Reaching for the source, you eventually find and rip off a widow bite. Looking up you see Natasha nearing the cliff.

Out of desperation, you pull out your gun and hit her in the back of her calf. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, as you sprint the final distance to the edge.

You jump and wait for an impact that comes much sooner than you had predicted. Natasha’s body collides with yours midair, then you both slam into the side of the mountain. You cling to her as she nearly slips from your hands.

The two of you hang from the side of the mountain. You look up to see the wire that is firmly attached to your belt.

“Damn you,” you look back down to Natasha, “why did you do that?”

Her face is calm as she looks back up at you, “let me go.”

“NO!”

“Let me clear my ledger,” the widow asks.

“Your ledger is clean!” You try to reach for her with your other hand, but you fall short, “baby please, don’t do this.”

Natasha smiles, “Its ok.”

All you can do is shake your head.

“I love you,” she knows this is it. She waits for you to repeat it. When you don’t, she prompts you, “say it.”

“Please,” you whimper.

“Say it,” her voice cracks. She needs to hear it, “please.”

“I love you, Natasha.”

“I love you both,” your partner smiles, “tell Wanda.”

Your face screws in pain, but you nod, “I will.”

“I’m so sorry,” Natasha whispers, then she kicks away from the mountain and slips through your fingers.

“Did this actually work?”

The team looks around with smiles on their faces, but their celebration is interrupted by a bone chilling scream. They turn to the source and find your crumpled form on the ground.

No one needs to ask what happened or where’s Nat. They can all see the answer when you writhe in indescribable pain.

Natasha is gone.

NOW

The pages flip one after the other as Wanda continues to search the book for a way to bring her love back to her.

For months, all she has done is search for a solution. There must be one. How many times have they cheated death? She should have died all those years ago in Sokovia, but she didn’t. Steve was buried in ice for nearly 70 years, but he came back ready to fight. Bucky survived cryo-sleep and torture, but he’s still around. Hulk was missing for two years, presumed dead, playing gladiator on some ridiculous planet, but he came back. They all came back.

So there has to be a way, and Wanda won’t stop until she finds it.

She’s already scoured every book on Earth relating to magic and nonhuman abilities. Every scrap of classified information that the Avengers, former SHIELD files, and any other organization of this type she could find.

It is here that she was introduced to the multiverse. There’s an infinite number of alternate realities just floating around out there. There are realities where the team never fought Thanos, the snap never happened, Natasha never sacrificed herself on Vormir, and the three of you were still together.

Somewhere out there are universes where you’re all happy.

All she has to do is find a universe with her lost love still alive and bring her back to this one. The problem is crossing between the universes is impossible, at least for now.

She searches day and night for a way, and her searching led her to a magic book, the Darkhold. They call it the book of the damned. It’s made of dark magic, Wanda is well aware of that. It’s the means to an end and nothing more.

The Darkhold speaks of a Scarlet Witch that is powerful enough to rule or destroy the entire universe, but Wanda doesn’t want that. She just wants to get her love back.

She flips the page again, unaware of the way her fingers have begun to lose their normal coloring. Her eyes scan over the lines, and she halts.

Dreamwalking. A way in which one can enhabit the body of their alternate self, living in that universe while also remaining in their own.

This is it. A chance for her to access another universe, to find the one she needs.

The book floats in front of Wanda as she sits on the ground. With a wave of her hand, she surrounds herself with a circle of candles. Her hands and eyes glow red as she reads the words out into the air. Red wisps stretch out all around.

Wanda blinks twice slowly before actually closing her eyes and slowly rising from the ground.

She is sent through a network of sorts, almost a red tunnel. There’s a struggle. As if she has to remove an obstacle from her path. It’s difficult, but suddenly the fight is over. The tunnel seems to open and so do Wanda’s eyes.

Looking around, Wanda stands in a kitchen. There are crayon drawings on the fridge and colorful dishes in the sink. She’s wearing a black dress that shows a little more cleavage than she would normally.

Across the room, she spots a framed picture of herself, Natasha, and you. She approaches it to get a closer look. You’re all dressed in white, smiling ear to ear. The bottom of the frame reads: Mrs. & Mrs. & Mrs.

“We were so happy,” she whispers to herself, completely unaware that she has an audience.

“Everything ok, love?”

Wanda holds her breath at the sound of that melodic voice that she hasn’t heard in so long. She turns quickly and finds Natasha standing behind her. She’s wearing a very nice dress suit, and she looks amazing.

All Wanda can do is stare.

The Russian smirks in that way that makes Wanda’s insides turn to mush.

“What?” she approaches the younger woman, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She wraps one arm around Wanda’s waist, while the other hand strokes her cheek, “what’s wrong?”

Wanda smiles and shakes her head. Nothing, absolutely nothing is wrong. She revels in Natasha’s touch, one she feared she would never feel again.

Natasha leans in to kiss her quickly.

“Peter just got here,” she says as she fixes Wanda’s lipstick. “The twins are begging him to let them stay up and play video games all night,” she chuckles. She wraps her arm Wanda once her makeup is fixed, “he probably will. Maybe we should have picked someone else babysit.”

The younger woman can barely pay attention to what she is saying. She is too busy staring. She watches those perfectly kissable lips open and close to form words. She gets lost in emerald eyes that she only gets to see in her dreams.

“…Detka sent me to find you. Are you ready?” Natasha finishes.

Wanda is brought out of her thoughts and quickly comprehends what was said. “Detka…” she whispers reverently.

As if on cue, your voice floats around the corner, “if we don’t get going soon, Tony will come personally escort us to this party.” Both of your wives turn to the doorway which you enter. You stop only a few feet into the room, taking in the sight of them still in each other’s arms with their faces only inches apart. “Am I interrupting?” you ask playfully.

Natasha laughs, while Wanda just takes in the sight of you. Just like them, you are dressed to the tens. You wear a long magenta dress that hugs you in all the right places. The slit that runs to your hip allows a delectable view of your right leg. Your hair is expertly pulled up, with small strands falling loose to frame your face perfectly. You look stunning, and she can’t take her eyes off of you.

Wanda is sure you’ve never looked more beautiful. Tears gather in her eyes, “you could never.”

In an instant, everything is gone. She is sent back into the tunnel, fighting to get back through.

Wanda lands on the ground with a thud. “What?” she looks around wildly looking for her lovers, but she is alone.

“No,” she exclaims as she crawls over to the book that is now laying closed on the ground, “no, she was there! She was right there!”

Desperately, she opens it back up and tries to recite the words again. She has to get back. That was only a second. Wanda only got to be with her for a second. It wasn’t long enough.

She raises herself into the air again and is able to reach the network, but when she reaches the obstacle she is unable to fight through. Groaning, she lands on the ground again.

The other version of herself is resisting her. That’s the obstacle she can’t fight through. She isn’t strong enough, but she will be. Or she’ll just find a reality with a weaker Wanda.

Either way, she will see her love again.

THEN

Tree leaves rustle in the wind, and that is the only thing to be heard. The small group stands silent as the dirt is thrown back into the hole it came from.

There’s no service for Natasha. No gathering of people who fought beside her. Not like what they held for Tony. No.

All she gets is a handful of people and an empty casket. A stone that reads her name.

Natasha Romanoff

Daughter – Sister – Lover – Avenger

This was Clint’s idea, to help you and Wanda find some kind of closure. Somewhere to go to say goodbye, even if there is nothing to bury. You had agreed hoping he was right. That this would help, but it seems not.

Wanda hates it. She hates the stone, the casket, the idea that Natasha is really gone, and she’s not coming back. Wanda hates a lot of things these days, but who can blame her. She just lost the love of her life.

The two of you stand side by side, silent tears roll down your cheeks. You’ve stopped wiping them away along time ago. You’re breaking. You’ve been trying to stay strong for Wanda. That’s what Natasha asked you to do, but your strength is wearing thin.

The Sokovian wants nothing to do with you seemingly. She barely talks to you and when she does it is almost always some passive aggressive remark. Her resentment is apparent.

As the last shovel of dirt falls to the ground, you feel another pang of grief. The finality of your time with Natasha hitting you full force. You grab Wanda’s hand for support, but she snatches it from you.

The pieces of your heart break again, and it takes everything you have just to stay standing.

She walks away, leaving you there alone.

Alone. That’s all you feel now. The past two months have been spent sharing a house with the partner you still have, but you still feel entirely alone. Natasha had wanted you to come together, but all you’ve done is drift further and further apart.

Clint comes beside you, wrapping an arm around you.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

You brother looks at you with concern, “you have every right to be here, just like her. You loved Natasha too; you deserve to say a proper goodbye.”

“No Clint,” you can’t lift your eyes off the ground, “I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come back.”

“Don’t say that,” he turns you to face him straight on.

Your voice breaks, “Wanda thinks it. She won’t say it, but I know she thinks it’s my fault.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is!” you whisper yell, not wanting Wanda to hear you from where she stands a few yards away. “I don’t blame her. She needs Natasha, not me. But Nat’s not here, and that is all my fault.”

Clint grabs you by the shoulders, “no, it is not. It was that purple bastard. Natasha made a decision to bring Wanda and everyone back. She wanted you to be here for that.”

You shake your head and shrug sadly, “it doesn’t change the fact that the wrong person died on that mountain…. It should have been me.”

NOW

Audience laughter fills the bedroom as you, Natasha and Wanda lay on the bed watching I Love Lucy reruns.

Natasha leans against the headboard with Wanda’s back pulled flush to her front. You rest between their legs with your head in Wanda’s lap. She cradles you, gently stroking your cheek and playing with your hair. She nearly puts you to sleep.

Natasha’s arms wrap so tightly around her, she’s not sure where Natasha starts and she ends.

It’s perfect.

The only thing that would make it more perfect is if this reality belonged to her.

Wanda can feel the alternate version of herself fighting to regain control, but she is stronger now. She can hold her at bay while she basks in the presence of her lovers, surrounded by Natasha with you in her arms.

From somewhere, someone knocks on a door. Wanda waits, but when neither you nor Natasha react, she ignores it. When the sound pops up again without reaction from either of you, she knows the knocking is not from this reality. It’s from hers.

Mentally, Wanda groans. She doesn’t want to leave, not yet. She still hasn’t found a permanent solution for bringing back her girlfriend. Dream-walking is just a place holder. A nice distraction to get her through the long nights and keep from losing hope.

She leans her head back against Natasha’s shoulder to put this Wanda to sleep.

When she opens her eyes, she is back in the dark confines of the house she shares with no one. The runes she cast on the walls preserve the exterior from the destruction of the Darkhold, but she must quickly throw up a hex to disguise the interior as any other home.

The visitor knocks on the door again, and Wanda mutters under her breath, “I’m coming.”

When she opens the door, she finds quite possibly the last person she expected to see… well maybe the second to last.

“Clint,” she stands in the doorway, “I figured you never wanted to see me again.”

The archer shrugs stiffly, “Y/n asked me to check on you.”

Wanda hums quietly. Of course, you did. After everything she has done, you still thought about her first. He heart breaks all over again. She never deserved you.

The tension is thick in the air between them. He clenches his jaw. This is harder than he expected, after the way she treated you. He nods into the house, “may I?”

She stands aside, lifting an arm to invite him in. Her hex stands well. The house looks just as it did when you still lived here with her.

Clint looks around. He remembers the day he helped you move in. Smiling sadly, he lifts a photo of you and Natasha from a side table, “this is a good picture.”

“Yeah,” Wanda agrees. Her lips tremble.

He returns the frame to its place, “how have you been?”

She smiles tight lipped, “I’m staying busy. The trees are a lot of work.”

Its not a complete lie. They do require quite a bit of upkeep. You had cared for them before you left. Wanda wants to take care of them while you’re away. She just uses magic to do that. Then she can stay focused on her main task.

“I saw those. They’re looking good,” Clint nods. Small talk was never his specialty, but he just has to make sure she’s taking care of herself. “You take care of them all by yourself?”

“Did you really come all the way out here to talk about apple trees?” She is a bit over the pleasantries. He interrupted a very lovely dream-walk that she would love to get back to.

The archer straightens, “I came all the way out here because I love my sister.”

“and I don’t?” the witch asks curtly.

The archer pauses and considers his next words carefully. He relents with a sigh, “I never said that.” Whatever happened between you, you still loved Wanda with everything you had. As hard as it is, he wants to respect that. “She didn’t want you to be out here all alone.”

Wanda smiles genuinely this time, “you won’t have to worry about that much longer.”

Clint furrows his brow, tilting his head down, “what are you talking about?”

Wanda shakes her head with a sly smile, “wouldn’t you like to get your best friend back?”

It takes a few seconds for what she is implying to really sink into his brain, but when it does, deep concern floods his entire system.

“She is dead, Wanda,” he states flatly, “she’s gone forever.” His voice cracks as he forces the tears away.

“I’m gonna bring her back,” she whispers.

Clint shakes his head angrily, “it can’t be undone. It was an everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul-”

“I’m not talking about that damn mountain,” she yells. She takes menacing steps towards him, but your brother manages to stand his ground. “I am the most powerful magic wielder on the planet. There is a way to bring her back, and I will find it.” Red wisps begin to dance between her fingers.

He searches her eyes for the person he once knew, but he is fairly certain she is lost. “How do you plan on doing that?” he asks.

The witch takes a step back, shrugging nonchalantly, “with this.” Slowly she brings down the hex to reveal the Darkhold and all its destruction.

Clint looks around frantically, trying to find something he recognizes, but the only thing he can find is Wanda and even she has been corrupted nearly beyond recognition.

“What is this?” he asks exasperated, “dark magic?!”

“Chaos magic, it’s the way I’m going to bring her home,” Wanda stands resolute.

The archer looks to her incredulously, “you can’t be serious. Have you even thought about Nat?”

“I think about her every day. I’m doing this for her.”

“Nat wouldn’t want this!” he tries to break through to her.

“Natasha’s not here!” Wanda takes a deep breath to calm herself. She can’t let her anger take over. If she ever harmed your brother (accidentally or not), you would never forgive her for that. Then all of this would be for naught.

“I am going to bring her back,” she states leaving no room for doubt, “and once we’re all together again, maybe we’ll invite you over to visit.”

Clint shakes his head attempting to approach, to try and reason with her, but he is quickly swept out of the house by a red mist.

Wanda’s voice follows him out the door, “it was nice to see you again, Clinton.”

Once he is out of her house, she returns to the Darkhold, more determined than ever to find the permanent solution to her problem. There has to be a way to bring her love home to her, and she must not stop until she finds it. She can’t afford to waste any more time dream-walking.

“I’m going to bring you back, my love,” she promises, “don’t worry, I’m going to bring you back.”

THEN

The lump in your throat appears to be permanent at this point.

Reaching into the cardboard moving box, you pull out an old worn-out SHIELD hoodie.

It was Natasha’s.

Bringing it to your nose, you inhale deeply, filling your lungs with her scent. You clutch the garment tight to your chest, as if it could fill the ever-gaping hole in your chest.

Without a fight, you lose the battle against the tears. Sobs rock your body as the wounds of grief open wide again. This pain is never-ending. Everywhere you look you find something that reminds you of the fact that Natasha’s not here.

Everything hurts all of the time, and you don’t even have Wanda to help when it does.

You both moved into the house not long after the final battle, and the only boxes left to go through were the boxes of Natasha’s things. Wanda had been helping, but she only lasted about 5 minutes before storming out of the house.

She won’t cry in front of you. Because if she does, she knows you will comfort her and the last thing she wants is comfort from you. She still resents you even if she won’t say it. You know she feels it.

The front door slams, and you are startled from your tears. Quickly, you wipe your cheeks and stand to put the hoodie away. You listen as heavy footsteps make their way through the house until they reach the door of the walk-in closet.

You turn and before you can say anything, Wanda has captured you in her arms, pressing her lips against yours frantically. At first, you lean into the touch, kissing her back. You’re starving for any kind of touch since the dry spell that she has subjected you to.

This is what she does now. She inflicts radio silence with no physical contact, until something happens and she needs to feel something other than grief or anger.

Every time she does this, you know who she really wants. She tells you when she whispers her name in your ear.

..and every time the pain comes back tenfold.

Still, you give her this. You let her strip you and have her way with you because it means you at least have her for a short while. If this is what she needs, you give it to her. You wrap around her and hold her bare body to yours knowing full well in the morning she will act as though it never happened.

Today, however, you can’t. The tears are still drying on your cheeks. The pain in your chest drowns out anything you could possibly feel between your legs.

When she reaches for the hem of your shirt, you grab her hands, “no, Wanda.”

She tries to kiss you through your protest. She holds you tightly as you push her shoulders.

“Not now, Wanda, please,” you pull yourself away from her enough to step back.

“I need this,” Wanda steps towards you, reaching for your face.

Shaking your head, you back away again, “I need you.”

She rolls her eyes, “then stop pushing me away.”

“No, Wanda!” you wipe away the tears that threaten to fall, “I need you here, actually here. I can’t keep living like this.”

You walk out of the closet, and Wanda follows you into your bedroom. “I am trying to be here for you, to help you when you need me, but I am grieving too, and I need you to actually be here with me.”

“You’re grieving?” she scoffs, “you don’t know grief. I have lost everyone I ever loved. All I had left was you and Natasha. You knew that, and still, you let her die!”

You release a long sigh. Finally, here it is. The moment she finally says what she has been thinking for the last several months.

“No, I didn’t,” you deny, “I tried to take her place. I wanted to jump, but she beat me. I did not let her die! I fought her for it-“

“Not hard enough,” she interrupts, “yeah, you fought, but you made sure that it was you who came back with that stone.” Her accusation hits you in the chest, and you have to catch your breath for a second.

“You think I want to be here?” you ask incredulously. “Do you honestly think I wanted to lose the love of my life, just to come back and have the other love of my life hate me?”

You wait for an answer, but she can’t give you one.

Wanda can’t even look at you. She doesn’t hate you. She knows she still loves you, but the pain and anger she has felt for months have festered and boiled until now they’re ready to blow. Grief clouds her judgement every second of the day. Even though she knows deep down that you aren’t really to blame, you’re the only one here to receive it.

“I didn’t want to be here! I would have gladly followed her over the edge of that cliff, but then you and everyone else would have stayed dead. Natasha would have given her life for nothing.”

“So, I came back to bring you back. Wanda, you're the only reason I have to left to be here. I just need you to meet me halfway."

When all you receive is silence, you whine in exasperation. You’ve met your end, “if there was some way, I could trade myself to bring her back to you, Wanda, I swear I would.”

Time stands still. Wanda looks up with ice in her glare. Before she can stop them, the words just tumble out, “I would too.”

The last remnants of your heart shatter. What was left of your heart belonged to Wanda, and she doesn’t want you here. The pain falls away, and all that you are left with is a numbness that spreads over you entirely.

You take a few heavy breaths and nod your head, “I’m gonna go.” You walk out of the bedroom, but before you leave the door, you turn back to face Wanda one last time, “I love you.”

Silence stretches as you wait for a response that never comes. Crying, you quickly grab your keys and head for the front door. You didn’t grab a single thing. Tears blur your vision as you drive away from the home that was supposed to be your forever with Wanda and Natasha.

Wanda stands frozen in the bedroom until she hears the car engine start and then slowly fade as you drove further and further away.

Now she is really alone. There is no one to hide her emotions from, so now she has no choice but to face them.

Wanda screams as she finally expresses everything she has held off for months. No one is here to stop her, so she lashes out. She throws everything her hands land on. She topples furniture, crying as her angers finally finds its outlet leaving her empty inside.

NOW

A red cloud extends in front of the Sokovian. She repeats the words she found in the book and watches as the cloud expands and forms an arch in front of her. A wild wind picks up around her. Unsuspecting items are lifted in the breeze and circle the witch as well as the quickly growing red mist.

The cloud grows through the house. It tears a part a wall, followed by the deconstruction of the rest of the house.

Wanda doesn’t care. She repeats the spell, red magic pouring from her hands.

“Wanda!”

Wanda hears yelled at her from the right. She turns away from the book to find Stephen Strange standing in the middle of her spell. Now thoroughly distracted, she loses her focus, and the red cloud shrinks back into nothing.

“What are you doing?” the sorcerer questions with his hands raised ready to intervene.

Her eyes glow bright red as anger courses through her. She was so close. “I am going to another reality to bring back my love,” she takes a deep breath and magic begins to flow from her hands.

“NO!” Stephen conjures magic cuffs that hamper Wanda’s powers.

She turns to him with daggers in her eyes, “let me go.”

“Wanda, this is a flagrant violation of every natural law,” he tries to reason, “you could destroy both universes. I cannot allow you to do this.”

Now, Wanda has had enough. She will get her partner back. Nothing and no one is going to change that. She clenches her jaw and breaks the magic restraints from her wrists, “and how are you going to stop me?”

With a wave of her hand, she sends the sorcerer flying away. Quickly she returns to the spell. The magic pours from her hands forming another red cloud in front of her. The longer she repeats the words, the cloud begins to take shape, creating an arch. The cloud begins to thin in the middle, and Wanda can almost see vague shadows of the reality she is connecting to.

Suddenly, a magic chain wraps around Wanda’s arm, pulling her focus from the portal again. She easily breaks it and redirects Stephen’s magic back towards him, but by the time she returns to the spell the portal is open to the alternate reality.

…the wrong alternate reality.

Wanda stares at the sight. This new Earth’s Natasha and you cuddling on a couch with two young boys. One boy is curled into your side, while the other lounges across both of your laps.

This isn't the universe she meant to conjure. She was looking for one where the three of you weren’t together yet to cause the other Wanda the least amount of suffering as possible. She didn’t want to break up a family.

“Wanda, you can’t,” Stephen calls from behind her. He is going to stop her. Its now or never. This reality will just have to do.

Wanda steps through the portal. “Detka,” she smiles.

Instantly, you and Natasha’s heads snap to the intruder. Panic and protectiveness flood your body. In an instant, the two of you jump from the couch, dragging your sons with you.

“Wanda!” Natasha calls for her wife who runs in from the kitchen.

“No!” this Wanda yells. Before she can do anything, the Scarlett Witch sends her flying into the back wall.

“Boys, get behind me!” you place yourself between this witch and the children. You slowly back them to the far side of the room as Natasha attacks the intruder.

“Wait, Natasha,” the witch blocks the widow’s hits and kicks, but won’t retaliate, “I don’t want to hurt you!” She uses her magic to lift the Russian into the air and hold her there in the center of the room.

You run and kick Wanda’s hand, “let her go!”

Wanda’s loose hold on Natasha releases, and the red head falls to the ground with a groan.

The boys run to check on her, but once they reach her, she quickly stands to guard them again. “Billy, Tommy, this way!” she pushes them back to the far side of the room.

You fight the witch, trying to drive her back through the portal she came from.

“Stop fighting me,” she blocks your attacks, but will not use her powers. “Please, Y/n,” she tries to speak with you, “wait, love. Stop.”

Unable to avoid your attacks any longer, Wanda reaches out and wraps you in her magic. She restrains you as gently as she can, trying to get through to you, “Y/n, listen to me!”

“WANDA, STOP.”

The witch halts. Nearly shocked still, she turns to see her Natasha stepping through the portal.

“Let her go,” The widow looks to her lover with a heavy sadness. The frown lines around her mouth and between her eyebrows are deeper than the last time Wanda saw her. Her eyes a dull shell of the light they used to hold, “that’s not our Y/n. Our Y/n is gone.”

“But I…” Wanda’s voice breaks. Her magic fades away and releases you from her hold. A tear falls from her eyes, and her lips tremble, “I have to bring her back.”

THEN

"I'm on my way."

"No, Clint," your hand is shaking as you hold the phone to your ear, "you don't have to do that."

You can hear him moving, talking to someone, most likely Laura. The sound of his keys jingling in his hand fill your ear, "I'm not letting you be alone right now."

"No, don't leave Laura and the kids," you have to hold him off. If he gets here, he will stop you. "Just check on her," you ask.

"Y/n-"

"Please Clint," you cut him off before he can object.

The archer sighs in frustration. He'd much rather lay into the Sokovian for hurting you, his baby sister with a heart three times too big for your little body. But, if you want him to check on her, then that's what he'll do.

"Ok," he yields, "I'll call her."

"Thank you, Clint," you whimper, "so much."

He thinks your thanking him for showing Wanda mercy, but you're thanking him for so much more than that, for being your protector, partner in crime, shoulder to cry on.

You're thanking him for being your big brother and best friend.

"Everything is gonna be ok," he comforts you, and your heart aches.

"I love you."

"I love you too kiddo."

You end the call and take a moment to accept that was the last time you'll speak to your brother.

Taking a deep breath, you turn to your friend, "ok, I'm ready."

“Y/n, I can’t,” Bruce shakes his head.

You stand in front of him in a Pym suit ready to do what needs to be done, “I have to do this, Bruce.”

You hand him three envelopes, each of their names written on one of them, Clint, Natasha, Wanda. “Give these to them after, please.”

“But…” he swallows, “they won’t survive this. You have to know that.”

Swatting away the tears, you smile sadly, “they’ll have each other, like it should have been in the first place." You hold out the envelopes again, "please, Bruce."

"Ok," he takes them and nods. “How do you know this will work?” he asks as you stand in the center of the platform.

"It has to," you shrug, “goodbye Bruce.”

Not knowing what to say, if there is anything to say, he begins his count down, as he finalizes the last of the settings, “in three, two, one.”

Bruce presses the last button, and you’re gone. He looks down and sighs at the loss of yet another friend.

“Goodbye, Y/n.”

The phone picks up after the first ring.

“Have you heard from Y/n?” Wanda asks hastily as soon as the call connects.

It’s been 3 hours and 27 minutes since you walked out of the house. The argument had exploded faster than either of you could comprehend, and you both needed space.

After half an hour, Wanda had calmed down enough to think about what happened, and the guilt followed immediately.

She was horrified. She is horrified with herself and the words that came out of her mouth. She hurt you when you were already broken. She’s been hurting you this entire time, and she hates herself for it.

In tears, she paced around the home and clutched her phone waiting for any word from you. She called. She texted. She sent voice messages, emails, private chats on every social media platform. Hoping for any response from you.

When you still weren’t home an hour later, Wanda grabbed the keys and started driving. She checked every bar, every restaurant, every coffee shop, anywhere you possibly could have gone. She’s called everyone, but no one has seen you.

She answered the phone desperately when she saw the caller ID. If anyone had heard from you, it would be your brother.

“I’ve been looking for her everywhere,” her voice is distraught and panic riddles her body, “she won’t answer any of my calls, and she turned off her location on her phone and I need to find her ……. we got in a fight, and-“

“Yeah, I know,” Clint interrupts, “she called me. She asked me to check on you.” He tries to treat her how his sister asked him to but knowing how Wanda has treated her makes that near impossible. “I think its best if you give her some space-“

“Please Clint,” the witch begs, “I have to talk to her. I said something horrible. I didn’t mean it. I have to tell her I didn’t mean it. Please, Clint. She has to know.”

The archer takes a deep breath. When the three of you got together, he thought that your love was indestructible, but how could he have ever predicted this. A tragedy like this and its ripple effect are unpredictable.

“She said she was going to stay at the compound for a bit,” Clint admits. He’s not sure if telling Wanda is right or not, but if there is a chance to save your relationship, he has to risk it. You and Wanda need each other if you’re going to heal from this.

The Sokovian lets out a cry of relief, “thank yo-“

“Wanda,” he stops her with his voice cool as ice, “you either fix this or stay the hell away from her. Don’t hurt her again.”

“I’m gonna fix it,” she whips the car around and drives straight for the compound.

“I’m gonna fix it.”

Rocks crunch underneath your boot as you climb.

You look straight ahead. You’ve seen enough of this mountain in your nightmares.

“Y/n, daughter of Edith,” the floating black cloaked man greets.

Coming to a stop in front of him, you stare into his eyes, “I’m here for a trade. Me for her.”

He chuckles morbidly, “child, what you seek is impossible.”

“Bull shit,” you interrupt, “you said to take the stone, one of us had to die. A soul for a soul. Why do you care who’s soul it is?”

He stares at you silently, expression almost bare.

"I was here that day. I jumped too," you argue, "I jumped first. It should have been me."

Your suddenly filled with anxiety. This has to work. You have to make it work.

"I am going over that ledge," you assert, "and there's no one here to take the stone, so you'll have an extra soul. That has to have some negative affect according to the laws of universal balance or some shit. So, what are you gonna do about it?"

The wind blows all around, while you watch the guide weigh his options in his head.

He releases a deep breath, “as you wish.”

You turn to the cliff.

“but know, Y/n, daughter of Edith,” he calls. You look over your shoulder, “this will be an everlasting exchange. There will be no reversal this time.”

Clenching your jaw, you nod and walk to the edge.

When she runs through the compound doors, Wanda’s not sure where to go. She darts up to the shared room you and Natasha had stayed in for the 5 years she had been gone. Opening the door, she finds the room empty. She checks the common area, the kitchen, the library, and still you are nowhere to be found.

Frustrated, she turns to the AI hoping it is still functional, “Friday, where is Y/n?”

There is a long pause before the monotone voice rings through the room, “Agent Y/L/N is in the hangar with Dr Banner.”

Before Friday has finished the sentence, Wanda has taken off through the compound. She cannot get through the building fast enough. She pushes every door open with her magic before she gets to it. The elevator takes the longest, and the Sokovian paces the small space the entire time. When the doors open, she runs.

Wanda is nearing the hangar doors when a familiar voice stops her in her tracks. It’s a voice she thought she would never hear again.

“What happened? How did I get back? Where is everyone?”

“Hold on, there’s something I need to tell you. Wait, Nat.”

At the sound of her name, Wanda bursts through the doors and whimpers at the sight in front of her.

Natasha is walking away from Bruce, well the hulk technically, and towards the exit. She stops when her eyes fall upon Wanda. Her lover she hasn’t seen since Thanos snapped his fingers. She’s still confused, but that can all wait.

“Wanda,” she whispers through a watery smile.

The witch is snapped out of her shock and runs for the Russian. She wraps her arms around her girlfriend’s neck. “Tasha,” she cries into the older woman’s neck.

"It worked," Natasha whispers with a grin, "we won."

The two hold each other tight, tears of relief streaming down their faces. Neither of them believed they would ever see the other again, and yet here they both were.

"How?" Wanda pulls back to look up happily confused, “how did you get here?”

“You got what you wanted.”

The two women turn to Bruce who they had honestly forgotten was there. His eyes bear into Wanda.

During the whole reunion, he sat back and watched solemnly. Everyone had seen the tension between you and Wanda since Natasha had sacrificed herself. He had no idea how bad it actually was until you came to him with tears in your eyes and a request.

No one else knew. They would have stopped you.

“What?” Wanda asks breathlessly.

“You got what you wanted,” he repeats with a bitter aftertaste to his words, “or should I say who you wanted.”

The momentary relief is shattered as Wanda stares back at her lover, speechless.

"What are you talking about?" Natasha looks past the witch expecting to see you right behind her, but there’s no one. She looks to Wanda, “where’s Y/n?”

Wand falls to her knees as the ground is seemingly ripped from under her. Natasha catches her and lowers them both to the ground, looking between her friend and her lover, “what’s going on?”

The pieces seem to fall in place, and Wanda is faced with pure horror. “No, no, no, no, no, I didn’t…” she looks up to Bruce, pleading that this isn’t true. It can’t be true. “Please, I didn’t mean it. I came here to tell her I didn’t mean it!”

“It's too late,” the doctor feels his anger melt into pity. Looking at her, he can see how sorry she is, but it’s too late for regrets, “you said it, and she loved you enough to make it happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha asks. She’s still waiting for an answer to where her other partner is. Her brain works overtime, and she eventually catches up to their vague conversation. She puts the pieces together herself.

Then the terror sets in. “Where is Y/n?” she asks Bruce desperately. With tears already brimming in her eyes, Natasha looks to Wanda, “what did you say?”

The younger woman tries to bury her face in her hands, but the widow pulls them away.

"Wanda, what did you say?!"

What’s left of Wanda breaks. She crumples even further into the ground as a primal scream is torn from her chest.

NOW

“She’s gone, Wanda,” Natasha speaks calmly, trying to talk her partner back from this ledge, “our Y/n is gone. She’s not coming back.”

The Scarlet Witch shakes her head. She can’t give up, not when she is this close.

“No, I can bring her back. See!” She motions towards this Earth’s version of you, “I found her. We just have to take her back with us. We just have to bring her home.”

She turns back to you. The other Wanda stands in front of you protectively. With the flick of a wrist, she sends her flying and reaches out to you. “Come, detka,” she says sweetly. You’re finally here, in front of her.

She walks towards you but stops when you step back. Her smile waivers, “come with us, Y/n.”

“No, mama!” young voices plead.

You and the Scarlet Witch look over to the boys in the corner. They reach out for you, while this Natasha shields them with her body. The other Wanda has made it back to her feet and quickly resumes her position in front of you.

The witch takes a step back, and the rest of your family surrounds you. Tommy and Billy each cling tightly to your sides. Natasha wraps herself around all three of you, while also guarding you from the intruder.

“Come with us,” Wanda turns her attention back to you. She only has to convince you, but the conflicted look in your eyes makes her falter.

Why would you come with her? With your family fighting and clinging to you, why would you choose to leave them?

Her lips tremble in desperation, “please Y/n, please come back with us.” She falls to her knees and continues to beg, “I’m sorry, come back with us please... I’m sorry, Y/n please… Please come back to us.” Her anger falls away and she shakes with tears, “come back to us. I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m sorry, please come back.”

As her pleas fall into sobs, you can tell she is no longer speaking to you. She is calling for the one she really wants, the you that is gone.

“COME BACK, Y/N,” Wanda cries out into the multiverse as if you could hear her, “I’M SORRY, Y/n... I’m sorry. I love you; please come back.” A massive sobs washes over her body and she doubles over in pain. The tears are endless. She has no choice but to finally accept it.

She lost you.

The sight of her broken is too much for this Earth’s you. She’s not your wife, but she was obviously yours in this other world. You can’t stand to see her in pain.

You start to step out of your family’s arms, and they all protest. “She's grieving. She won’t hurt me,” you reassure them, "its ok."

Approaching slowly, you get a closer look at this version of your wife and your heart breaks. The discoloration of her hands. The way her thin frame tells you she isn’t eating. The shake of her shoulders as she sobs. The way this pain has devoured her.

Gently, you caress her face with one hand, using your thumb to wipe away tears as they fall. With renewed sobs, Wanda brings her black tipped fingers to cover your hand.

It doesn’t feel like you, not her you, not exactly, but its close enough. She’ll cherish whatever you give her, knowing after this she’ll never feel your touch again.

“You’ve lost so much,” you lower yourself in front of her and look into her eyes, “I’m so sorry I’ve added to your suffering, my dear.”

Wanda cries, “I hurt you. I should have held you and told you how much I loved you. I didn’t. I hurt you, and now I…. I can- I can never take it back. I can never apologize.”

You take her face into both of your hands, “you are forgiven.”

Wanda pulls away from you, shaking her head, “you don’t know what I did."

“No,” you sigh, “but I know the fire with which every version of me loves every version of you. I promise, you are forgiven.”

Wanda’s fingers reach for you tenderly hoping to feel some of this love, even if only by proxy.

You don’t move as she closes the distance and wraps her arms around your shoulders. You let her hold you, let her take the comfort she needs from you.

“Please, don't leave me. I need you,” she whimpers against your shoulder, “I have nothing.”

Gently, you rub her back, “you will be ok; you have each other.”

Wanda shakes her head against your shoulder in a silent denial.

You look up quickly to find the Natasha from the other reality, still standing at the portal entrance. The pain you find in her eyes nearly brings tears to your own.

Natasha swallows thickly, the dull ache of betrayal weighing heavily on her. What hurts the most is the way her betrayal is pointed to the partner in your arms.

THEN

The ringing in Natasha’s ears feels like it’ll drive her deaf. The thundering of horse’s hooves might as well be a lullaby compared to the pounding of her heart at this very moment. Drying tear tracks cool the redness of her cheeks.

"Show me."

Wanda shakes her head, "please, not again." She can't rewatch that memory anymore. She just can't.

The widow stares blankly ahead as her mind numbly takes in all that has transpired in the last hour. “I’m just trying to understand…”

The fight had erupted wildly. It began with Natasha asking Wanda to tell her what happened yet again, and it ended with the swapping of memories.

Natasha showed Wanda what happened on Vormir.

Wanda showed Natasha that last conversation with you.

This was the spark that lit the bomb. Natasha’s feelings of betrayal and Wanda’s growing guilt battled it out until they were both wounded.

Wanda was grappling with the consequences of her actions, and Natasha pressing her for answers she didn’t have.

“How?”

“I don’t know,” Wanda whimpers. How many times had she said those three words tonight? She can’t understand it either.

“…I know you loved her. I know how much you loved her,” Natasha says with an even tone. Her voice is scratchy from yelling, and her throat is hoarse.

“I just don’t understand how you can love her that much and still do what you did. I was at peace knowing you would lean on each other and love each other through the pain and still heal and find happiness. I trusted you with her, and I just don’t understand how I was this wrong.”

“I don’t know,” Wanda replies, “I was hurting so much. I lost you just like I lost everyone else-“

Natasha stands, “but you didn’t lose everyone! You still had her!”

“I know!”

“She was right there, Wanda, and she was in pain,” the widow paces the living room. Her words are angry daggers that hit the other woman right in the heart, “she was drowning in guilt, she was begging for you to help her, she needed you and you hurt her.”

Her tone raises as she continues, and the emotion builds as she tries to imagine what you went through. “You punished her and blamed her for something I did. I jumped off that mountain. I SAVED HER... and you told her she should have been the one to die. That wasn’t your decision to make!”

“I know!”

“How could you say that?!”

The witch stands, feeling as though she’ll burst any minute, “I DON’T KNOW!”

Her voice echoes against the walls, “I’ll never know! I’ll never understand why I didn’t cling to her, thanking every god that I still had her. I don’t know how I could have pushed her away or hurt her that way. I will hate myself for the rest of my life!”

The widow was going to interrupt, but she pauses. The witch’s self-loathing causes her to take a step back.

“If I could go back and change it, I would!” she yells, “I would hold her and tell her that is wasn't her fault. I would tell her how much I love her. But I can’t, and I am never going to forgive myself!”

Natasha sighs in despair. She sits down, tightly grasping the letter you left her.

In it, you apologized for reversing her sacrifice. You apologized for not being enough to get Wanda through this like she had said you would. You tell her how much you love her and hope she will be happy. At the end, you ask her to forgive Wanda, to please not blame her for your decision.

… and she is trying.

“Would you have said it to me?” the assassin asks quietly. “If she had beaten me on Vormir, and I was the one who survived, would you have said it to me?” She doesn’t know which answer would be better. At this point, she’s not entirely sure that it matters.

“I can't believe I said it to her,” fresh tears fall down the Sokovian’s face. The guilt is suffocating her. She just wishes it would drown her already, so she can be with you again.

In your letter to her, you promised that you didn’t blame her and that she shouldn’t feel guilty. You say you love her and just want her to be happy, but she never will be. Not without you. You loved her and forgave her, but she knew she didn’t deserve it.

“I love you, Wanda,” Natasha breaks the silence. There’s a finality in her tone.

Wanda’s blood runs cold.

She’s been expecting this. They have danced around each other for over a month. They’re trying to do what you asked them to, but maybe the cracks run too deep.

“I love you,” she repeats softly, “and I want to forgive you….. but I need time.”

With that, Natasha grabs her keys and leaves.

Wanda stares at the door blankly. This is her worst nightmare. Now, she really has lost everyone.

This, she ruined this. She has no one to blame but herself.

NOW

“Forgive her, Tasha,” you reach out for the redhead. She kneels in front of you, shuddering when you reach out to wipe a tear from her cheek. “Please, I can’t bear the thought of you being alone.”

She rests her forehead against yours.

You cup her cheek sweetly, “I know I would want you to be happy, together. I would die for it.”

“You did,” Natasha’s voice is barely over a whisper.

You nod in understanding. Your heart breaks even more for them. Their universe has been so unkind to them. Smiling sadly, you lift Natasha’s hand for her to look at you, “then grant me this last wish?”

She cries freely, but nods, “I promise.”

You look back to Wanda in your arms, "time to say goodbye, my love."

She holds you tighter, trying to memorize the feel of holding you against her.

Natasha gathers Wanda in her arms, “you have to close the portal, lyubov.” The two of them watch through the slowly closing window, as your family surrounds again in a tight embrace.

You smile to them, wanting that to be the last image they hold of you.

Once the portal has completely dissipated the Darkhold falls to the ground, closed.

Stephen approaches it carefully, lifting it from the ground, “we must destroy this.”

Wanda nods in understanding.

“Can we not do this now?” Natasha’s exhausted voice questions.

“Of course,” he steps back, “we’ll guard it in the sanctum until you are ready.” Quietly he opens a portal and leaves.

Left alone, Wanda breaks all over again. She clings tightly to Natasha as the sobs shake her entire body. The older woman holds her, rocking back and forth soothingly. She chokes out reassurances as she tries not to cry herself.

“It’s gonna be ok,” she whispers, but the Sokovian shakes her head against her chest, “it will. We’ll get through this.”

“How?”

“Together,” she rubs her back, “I promise, we’re both staying right here.”

The witch looks up slightly. She assesses the damage she has caused with Darkhold. The house she shared with you is in pieces, practically gone. A whine slips up her throat. You loved this house, and she’s destroyed it.

“What have I done?” she cries, “our home.”

“We’ll rebuild.” Natasha sits resolute, being the support her partner needs.

Wanda curls into Natasha as a fresh wave of grief hits her. “Y/n,” she whimpers into the Russian’s chest.

The widow can only hold her tighter, “I know.”

Natasha and Wanda sit there for a very long time. Nat holds her while she breaks down. Wanda eventually calms down enough to talk about how she is feeling.

Sitting in the rubble, they take the first step towards healing, together.

Clint’s Letter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: ...and yes, they rebuild the home. Apples do bloom on the trees. Many years later, maybe they have the twin boys they saw in the alternate reality. They also maybe have a baby girl. Her name is Y/n, and they hold her just a bit tighter.

.... :) anyway, I hope you guys liked it! let me know what you think!

-k❤️

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