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ginnsbaker · 3 days

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (9/?)

Part Summary: You get more than you bargained for on Halloween

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 7.300+ | Warnings: Light angst, R and Leigh being obtuse | Author's Note: Longest chapter so far (and about 90% of it is just Leigh and R)! I have officially written another novel length fic with this update. From a two-shot to this? Wouldn't be possible without everyone's support. Thank you, everyone. I have a little treat for you at the end.

Despite Leigh's promise to bring Logan in for his vaccinations, she missed the appointment again for the second time. Understanding that life gets hectic, you decide that rather than seeing Logan miss another round of critical vaccinations, you'll take matters into your own hands and arrange a home visit at the Shaw’s.

On the day of the visit, you discover that Logan has gained 2.5 pounds in just two weeks. The drastic weight gain might indicate that he’s not a purebred Shih Tzu as you originally thought when you got him, or Leigh has been feeding him more than the recommended serving size. You can feel Logan’s solid back as you hold him in place while you administer the vaccine on his scruff. Leigh appears nervous, and if you weren’t determined to scold her after completing Logan’s immunizations, you might have found it adorable.

“Just a quick pinch, buddy,” you murmur soothingly to the anxious pup. Logan yelps as the needle pierces his skin, but within two seconds, it’s over. You rub his neck to distract him from the sting of the medicine, then return to your insulated bag to dispose of the syringe. Leigh watches closely as you finish with Logan, a slight frown creasing her forehead. You notice she's dressed in what you figure is her nightwear—a thin olive camisole and matching capri pants. It seems too dressed down for receiving a guest.

“Why are these vaccines so important, anyway?” she asks lightly, but you don’t miss her apprehension behind it. “I mean, he'll mostly be indoors…”

The frustration from her missing two appointments sneaks into your voice as you say, “Vaccines can mean the difference between life and death for puppies. Take the parvovirus—it's lethal and spreads quickly.”

Leigh nods, taking in the weight of your words. You notice her swallow, perhaps realizing the graveness of her oversight. “I didn't realize it was that serious,” she murmurs.

You catch yourself, realizing you might be coming across as harsher than necessary. “It's alright, Leigh. That's exactly why I came here,” you say mildly. You've dealt with many uneducated dog owners before, and Leigh is no different. You know you need to be patient with her, just as you have been with others, and you remind yourself not to let your personal feelings interfere with your professional opinions.

Logan wiggles happily at your feet, seemingly forgiving you for the shot already. “And another thing,” you add, glancing down at Logan’s round belly, “he’s put on quite a bit of weight. We need to watch his diet. Too much food isn’t good for him either.”

Leigh looks slightly embarrassed. “I guess I've been spoiling him with extra treats,” she admits. “I'll be more careful with that.”

“It’s okay. I know how hard it is to say ‘no’ to that face,” you say, smiling at Logan while you rub his chin. “Just keep to the recommended portions, and he’ll be in good shape.”

As you gather your things to leave, you remember Logan's vaccine card. After filling out the final details, you head towards the kitchen where Leigh has silently drifted off. She's busying herself with breakfast on the stove when you approach.

“Here's Logan's vaccine card,” you say, handing it to her. “He needs another dose in two weeks, so don't forget to schedule that in.”

“Thank you,” Leigh says, accepting the card with a nod. “I won't forget this time.”

The aroma of coffee wafts through the room, tickling your nose.

“I've just made some coffee. Would you like to stay for breakfast?” Leigh asks.

You hesitate, considering the offer, but you’re inclined to refuse, still irked by her missing the previous appointments. “I’m good, thanks,” you say, a bit too briskly. Leigh's face falls slightly, a look of disappointment flashing across her eyes before she gives you a small, resigned smile and turns back to the stove.

You start to leave but something stops you—the frustration from Leigh’s no-shows running over.

“Leigh, can I ask why you didn’t make it to the clinic? And not even a text,” you find yourself saying as you spin on your heels to face her. “It’s not just unprofessional—it hurts more coming from a friend.”

“If you have a problem with me, it’s perfectly okay to transfer Logan to another clinic as long as you’ll follow through with his appointments,” you suggest, noting her standing there, mouth agape, her vivid green eyes sharply focused. Getting that off your chest didn't bring the relief you expected. Instead, you're left with a sinking feeling of regret. Looking back on your words, you realize how petty they must have sounded.

Leigh on the other hand, is momentarily stunned by your outburst, her eyes wide as she absorbs your words. Then, something shifts in her expression, a flicker of intrigue crossing her features before she clears her throat and apologizes.

“I'm really sorry,” she says sincerely, turning off the stove and setting down her spatula. “I didn't handle things well, and you were right to call me out on it.” Leigh takes a careful step closer, causing you to instinctively step back until your lower back meets the edge of the dining table. You weren't expecting Leigh to be so understanding, leaving you unsure of how to react. Should you apologize for getting upset?

Fortunately, Leigh doesn't leave you to dwell on your thoughts for long. She continues, “Why don't you stay for breakfast? I can whip up something nice, and we can catch up like we used to. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Feeling like an absolute fool and still grappling with the aftertaste of your flare-up, you find yourself in a quandary. Rejecting her offer would just drag out this uncomfortable moment even longer, which is the last thing you want. Besides, your stomach is growling—you haven’t eaten anything since you got here, and the smell of brewing coffee is too good to ignore.

“Alright,” you relent, glancing down at your feet. “That sounds good.”

Leigh looks relieved. “Perfect, just give me a minute,” she says, clapping her hands together as she turns back to her cooking.

You linger awkwardly, still standing. “Need a hand with anything?” you ask.

“Just sit there, be all pretty, and relax.”

That little compliment makes your cheeks burn even hotter. If you weren’t so distracted by your hunger and embarrassment, you'd swear it’s almost as if she’s flirting with you.

Wait.

Is she?

Then, as if the universe can hear you thinking, Leigh’s phone buzzes loudly on the kitchen counter. She snatches it up, and even though you can’t see her face, you can tell she’s happy he called as she chirps, “Hey, Danny.”

Right. Danny Greer. That name shatters your brief daydream. Suzie was right—you're too close, and it's clouding your judgment. Leigh laughs into the phone, and you look away just in time for her to turn slightly and steal a glance at you.

Alright, you think, that's it. After this breakfast, it's time to really put some space between you and Leigh. You need to clear your head and let her have her space too. It's the best move, for the sake of your friendship and your sanity.

As Leigh busies herself in the kitchen, you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through your phone, not really focusing on anything. The sound of her laughter while she talks to Danny floats over to you, making you regret agreeing to stay for breakfast and blame your inability to say no to her.

She ends the call with a lingering smile and soon approaches with two plates in hand. Each has a stack of pancakes and two sunny-side-up eggs with the edges just crisped up how you like them. The fact that Leigh remembered leaves you speechless. It’s a small detail, but it makes you guilty for brooding and feeling all jealous.

“I hope you still like your eggs this way,” Leigh says as she sets the table.

“Thank you,” you say warmly as Leigh pours coffee for both of you. Recalling her preference, you offer to add two sugars to her cup, and she rewards you with a small, appreciative smile. She then grabs the syrup from the fridge, along with two sets of utensils, and places them on the table.

You take a bite of the fluffy pancakes, perfectly cooked and deliciously light. “These are amazing, Leigh,” you say enthusiastically.

Leigh beams, standing a bit taller with pride instead of dismissing the praise. “I'm glad you think so! I've been working on perfecting the recipe.”

“Seriously, Leigh, you could sell these.”

She laughs. “Keep the compliments coming and I might just make you breakfast more often.”

You almost choke at her words. You really should take a little break from Leigh until you can get this crush under control. Even simple remarks are starting to feel like a tightrope walk.

Leigh tilts her head slightly, a coy look crossing her face. “So…” she drawls, leaving the word hanging as she waits for you to look up from your plate.

You stop chewing once you sense her heavy gaze on you. “Hmm?”

Leaning in slightly, she lowers her voice as though about to share a secret. “This Sara... is she a friend of yours? Someone new around here?”

The piece of pancake suddenly feels like a mouthful of sawdust as you process her question. You grab your coffee and take a quick gulp to help wash it down. “I, uh, met her on a dating app, actually,” you say.

Leigh's eyebrow arches. “Oh?”

There’s a short, tense period where you repeatedly stab your pancake and tap your foot rapidly against the leg of the stool you’re sitting on, while Leigh twirls her hair around her finger, lost in thought.

“She’s gorgeous,” Leigh finally says. “I didn’t know you were into women.” That is, unless you and the person from her advice column are one and the same. She's chosen to approach what she's dubbed the “EspressoEyes conundrum” as a Schrödinger’s cat scenario, where you simultaneously do and do not have feelings for Leigh.

You fiddle with your coffee mug. “Yeah, I think I've mentioned that before,” you say, though your memory suddenly feels unreliable.

Leigh shakes her head, certain. “No, you definitely haven't told me that.”

“Well, yes, I'm into women, but obviously I like men too,” you say, deciding it's perhaps better to just be clear.

“We're the same then,” she says casually, as if discussing something as mundane as their taste in movies.

“Really?” You’re hoping Leigh is buying the faux surprise on your face, even though Jules had let slip about Leigh's college days.

“Yeah,” Leigh nods. “I had a serious relationship with a woman back in college. It's not something I talk about much, but it's part of who I am.”

“I see.”

Leigh takes a slow sip of her coffee, eyeing you over the rim of her mug with a slight tilt of her head.

“So, do you like her? Sara, I mean,” she asks.

“Yeah, she’s great. We get along really well.”

Leigh sets her coffee cup down with a small clink, not missing a beat. “Have you guys...you know, slept together?” she asks, more bluntly than before.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, feeling a bit like you’re under interrogation. “Um…no, we haven’t.”

A quick glint flashes in her eyes before it vanishes. Her shoulders relax as she leans back in her chair. “Sorry, that was out of line,” she mumbles with a curt, dismissive laugh. “I guess I'm just being nosy.”

The way she said it doesn't truly suggest she's sorry for crossing some lines, but you’re not focusing on that. Rather, you feel like you’ve earned the right to ask Leigh some questions about her own personal affairs.

“And you?” you start, trying to sound flippant. “How are things with you and Danny?”

Leigh matches your nonchalance as she stands up to gather the empty plates from the table. There's a smooth, practiced ease in the way she begins cleaning up, letting you know she's not about to let your questions corner her.

“Things are... going,” she replies, keeping it vague. “Danny's great. We're figuring things out as we go.”

“Where'd you meet him?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“He's Matt's brother,” Leigh says flatly, without flinching. You have to give it to her for being so straightforward about it. Not that you’re judging Leigh or anything—it’s just that moving from in-laws to lovers is quite an unconventional transition.

It’s also possible that you’re just bitter.

“Did you always find him attractive?” you ask, almost spitefully, curiosity getting the better of you. Leigh freezes, her back going rigid at your callous words. There's a moment of visible tension, but then she lets out a slow breath and lets it slide. She had been quite direct in probing about your dating life, so perhaps this levels the playing field.

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Leigh says slowly. “I—”

“Oh hey, Y/N, it's been a while!”

Neither of you heard the front door open. Jules bursts in, holding Logan who's wagging his tail wildly at the sight of familiar faces, both oblivious to the cutting atmosphere they've just entered.

“Oh hey, Y/N, it's been a while!” Jules exclaims. She looks between you and Leigh. “Am I interrupting something?” she asks, noticing the residual stiffness in the air.

“Y/N was just leaving,” Leigh says.

You don’t need to be told twice. “Hey, Jules,” you say with a short wave. “I just came to give Logan his shots.”

Jules frowns slightly as you start to leave so soon after her arrival. You reach over to give Logan a quick pat on the head. Turning to Leigh, you manage a tight smile and say, “Thanks for the breakfast.”

As soon as you're out the door, Jules turns to Leigh with a worried look. “What was all that about?” she asks softly.

Leigh shrugs, her expression inscrutable. “I don’t know what you mean,” she replies evenly, turning away to busy herself with the dishes.

You get into your car but instead of starting it, you just sit there motionless. Your hands rest aimlessly on the wheel as you lose yourself in thought.

Here’s the truth about Sara:

She's exactly your type on paper—blonde, blue-eyed, stunning. But despite all that, she hadn't managed to hold your attention. Her beauty just couldn't pull your mind away from Leigh, from her vivid green eyes that always seemed to see right through you.

The silence in the car allows you to realize what an odd question you had thrown at Leigh about Danny. You realize just how inappropriate it might have seemed, how it must have sounded coming from a place of jealousy rather than concern.

Why did you even ask that? The answer is uncomfortably clear: you can't be just friends with Leigh. Not anymore. You’ve been lying to yourself, hoping things would just sort themselves out. But they won’t. Not like this. You can’t keep doing this to yourself—or to her.

Because right now, this friendship, if you can even call it that, is doing more harm than good.

“It’s not working.”

Suzie looks up from her clipboard, startled. Her red locks tumble across her face as she tilts her head, brushing them back with a quick flick of her hand.

“Seeing other people, you mean?” she asks, already guessing the root of your distress.

You run a hand through your hair, messing up your low ponytail. Frustrated, you decide to let your hair loose from the tie altogether.

“I thought if I met someone like Sara—someone who’s practically a checklist of everything I find attractive—it would make things easier. But it’s just... not.” You massage your temples, as if trying to rub away the spell Leigh seems to have cast on you. “She's perfect, but she's not Leigh. And no matter how hard I try, I can't stop thinking about Leigh.”

“You're right about one thing though,” Suzie says, getting back to her task.

“Which is…?”

“That Sara’s perfect,” she chuckles, and you can't help but roll your eyes. “Look, you can’t force these feelings. If your heart’s not in it, it’s not in it.”

“So…Should I keep seeing her? Maybe she’ll grow on me or something.”

Suzie stops and gives you a serious look. “Maybe. But love shouldn't feel like an obligation, you know? It’s not fair to either of you if you’re just waiting to see if you’ll catch feelings.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” you acknowledge with a sigh. “She’s everything I thought I wanted. And I think she likes me.”

“Sometimes what we think we want isn’t what we really need,” Suzie answers. “Why not take a break? Give yourself some space to think. It might help you figure out what really works—whether it’s Sara, someone else, or just time to yourself.”

“You think so?”

Suzie gives a small shrug. “Look, I don’t have all the answers.”

Hearing that makes you feel a tad embarrassed. You’ve been leaning on her for advice a lot lately, and it’s probably awkward for her, especially since you're her boss. Maybe she’s just being nice because she has to be.

“Thanks, Sue,” you say, standing up from your chair to head back to your office. “I appreciate you listening to all this.”

She smiles back, and you can tell she’s relieved to move on from the subject. Suzie might not have all the answers, but maybe there’s another place you can find them.

That night, in your bedroom, you settle in front of your laptop, the cursor blinking expectantly on the blank submission form of the advice column. You type in your handle—EspressoEyes—a moniker you’d used before, thinking it would increase your chances of being noticed again. Quickly, you type out your query and hit send, watching as it disappears into the digital ether. No sooner have you shut your laptop than your phone rings. It’s your mom.

“Hey, Mom,” you answer, shifting to sit against your headboard.

“Hi, sweetheart! Are you coming home for Thanksgiving? We’re starting to plan the menu and would love to have you,” she says. Your chest tightens. Just hearing her voice makes you feel like you’re already home. You pretend to think for a second, considering your rather empty social calendar.

“Yeah, I’ll come home,” you decide, realizing it might be nice to get away for a bit.

“Oh good! It’s been too long. We’ll make sure to have all your favorites,” she chatters on, already listing the dishes that would normally make you salivate. But these days, you just don’t have the appetite for food.

“Sounds great, Mom. Really looking forward to it.”

You hang up with a promise to send your flight details soon. Setting your phone down, you feel a slight relief at the thought of escaping to a place where no one knows about the mess you’re in.

Leigh can’t sleep. She lies wide awake, staring at the ceiling while Danny's snores fill the room. The weight of his arm draped over her stomach feels stifling, trapping her in place. She can’t breathe. Carefully, so as not to wake him, she slips out from under his arm and tiptoes out of the bedroom. In the hallway, she grabs one of his shirts hanging over a chair and slips it on. It smells like sandalwood and something uniquely him—comforting yet somehow off-putting at the same time.

She pads into the kitchen to boil some water, the soft click of the stove burner igniting a comforting sound in the otherwise quiet apartment. With the kettle on, she wanders into the living room, pulling Danny's shirt closer around her. Even with the windows closed, the crisp chill of autumn seeps in.

Sitting on the couch, Leigh pulls her knees to her chest. The post-sex cocktail of oxytocin and vasopressin usually knocks her out, but tonight they fail her. Instead, her mind is filled with doubts and the urge to flee from any kind of closeness.

She remembers the last conversation with you, the disapproval on your face when you finally mentioned her relationship with Danny. It troubles her more than she expected. Were you right? Is she just scrambling to fit someone, anyone, into her life, even if it means ignoring the screams inside her head telling her to run?

The kettle whistles, snapping her out of her thoughts. She makes her tea and settles back into the couch, stirring slowly as she thinks about what it might mean to step back from everything—Danny, you, all of it.

With nothing but time until sleep takes her or the sun rises—whichever comes first—Leigh picks up her phone to distract herself. She scrolls through social media, news articles, anything to keep her mind off the spinning thoughts. Eventually, she wanders to the advice column inbox to check on the latest submissions.

Her breath catches in her throat when she sees another entry from EspressoEyes, a handle she recognizes—possibly yours. It reads:

“Is it wise to pursue other relationships if you have strong feelings for someone else? That someone is a friend, and staying just friends is becoming increasingly difficult. My feelings seem to be putting a strain on our relationship. Should I give myself some space?”

Leigh reads the message two more times. She sets her phone down, her thumb instinctively finding its way to her mouth where she nibbles at the nail, a nervous habit when she’s thinking long and hard. And the more she thinks about it, the more obvious it becomes. Of course, she's the friend you're talking about. This is you, openly struggling with your feelings for her. She had hoped things might change, might become less complicated when Sara came into the picture, but she was mistaken.

When she asked about Sara, Leigh was trying to gauge your feelings for her, wondering if Sara's presence meant she didn't need to worry about whether you were EspressoEyes or not. In her mind, if you were involved with Sara, it would imply you weren't interested in Leigh. But she surprised even herself by asking if you had slept with Sara, unsure why she needed to know that detail. Deep down, she couldn’t openly admit just how relieved she felt when you told her you hadn’t.

Leigh picks up her phone again and starts typing out a reply to the submission. When she’s done she tosses her phone somewhere on the couch and goes back to her tea. Sitting there, she watches as the sky outside shifts from dark to a wash of pastels.

A week later, Leigh’s phone vibrates incessantly on the table, the screen lighting up with Danny's name again. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, she turns it off and sets it aside. They've been cycling through breakups and makeups so often it's exhausting—a twisted routine, one that's leaving her more drained each time.

It's Halloween, and since she and Danny are off again, Leigh decides to take the night for herself. She picks Matt's favorite restaurant, which is fully decked out for the holiday, with jack-o'-lanterns lining the walls and eerie candles flickering on each table. She orders a pumpkin-spiced latte and a small plate of appetizers, settling in to enjoy her evening solo. Later, she’ll have that tiramisu that her late husband so adored.

Matt always loved this holiday because it was the one time of year Leigh would indulge him by dressing up as whatever comic book character he was into at the moment. They'd start the evening here for pre-dinner celebrations before meeting up with friends and family later on. But tonight, there are no costumes for Leigh; she's dressed simply in jeans and a cardigan, her face free of makeup, her hair tucked behind her ears to keep it out of the way while she eats.

As she waits, she watches families and couples in costumes come and go, a bittersweet creeping up at her.

Then, you walk in. You’re dressed sharply, scanning the room like you're meeting someone—on a date. Leigh catches her breath. Were you aware that this was Matt’s favorite restaurant? Moreover, it’s been almost two weeks since that awkward morning when you left in a haste. You haven’t noticed her yet. Leigh watches you for a moment, debating what to do. She’s torn between going over or staying put. The last she contributed to the advice column, she’d left a message she hoped you'd find useful if you were indeed the person she’s been advising to. From the look of things, maybe you were taking that advice after all.

Taking a deep breath, Leigh stands and walks over. As you turn and notice her, a small, tentative smile appears on her lips when your eyes meet.

“Hey.”

You return the smile, though it's imbued with a bit of wariness. She appreciates it nonetheless.

“Hey,” you say.

Leigh doesn't beat around the bush; she gets straight to the point of why she came over. “Look, I'm sorry,” she says, the words coming out almost demandingly. “About last time. I crossed a line asking about Sara.”

There's an unmistakable assertiveness to her apology, carrying the same confidence and directness with which she usually addresses any issue. She doesn’t bow her head or wring her hands; instead, she holds your gaze steadily, expecting her apology to be taken as seriously as she means it.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t exactly in line myself when I brought up Danny,” you say, looking up at her. Then, searching for something else to say, you ask, “So, are you here to meet Danny?”

Leigh seems unfazed by the mention of Danny, yet again. You feel a bit silly soon after, realizing that after just acknowledging the awkwardness of digging into each other’s romantic lives, here you are, doing it again. You just can’t help yourself, can you?

“No. I’m on my own tonight,” she replies. Then she mirrors your earlier question, a slight tilt to her head. “And you? Here with Sara?”

“No, things didn’t push through with Sara. I’m meeting someone new,” you say, the words feeling strange as they come out. It was a simple yes or no question, and you're not quite sure what compelled you to open up about the specifics of your dating life.

Leigh just nods, her face neutral, not giving away anything in reaction to your news. “I should let you get back to your, uh, date,” she says, then quietly returns to her seat.

Having a date with a stranger just a few feet away from the woman you truly care about is about as ironic as the universe can be.

You’re on your second americano, the bitter taste barely registering as you glance at your watch for the umpteenth time. It's been thirty minutes past the time your date was supposed to arrive, and there's still no sign of him.

The restaurant has filled up around you. Families are tucked into booths, laughing and sharing plates piled high with food. Groups of friends clink glasses in cheerful toasts, and couples lean close, whispering and smiling over candlelit tables. Sitting alone at a table set for two, you start to feel conspicuously isolated.

The last two texts you sent within the hour remain unanswered, their blue bubbles on the screen marking the time you spent waiting. Determined to find some explanation, you open the dating app where you met him, your fingers tapping nervously. There, his profile pops up, showing that he is currently online. Relief washes over you for a moment—maybe there's a reasonable explanation. He might still show up. But as you tap the message icon to send him a query about his whereabouts, a sudden notification stops you: you can no longer message this user.

Feeling disheartened and embarrassed, you can’t help but feel all kinds of ugly for being stood up by someone who doesn’t even mean anything to you. Did he see you waiting and decide not to meet? What about you turned him off? You find yourself scrutinizing everything about your appearance. Was it what you were wearing—perhaps not feminine enough for his taste? Your hair was pulled back, exposing your forehead; maybe he didn't like that look. Or was it your posture—too slouched or too stiff? You even wonder if he might have passed someone else on his way here, someone he found more attractive. It's unsettling to realize how quickly the self-confidence you've spent years building can be shaken in just one evening.

You signal the waiter for the check. Although your stomach is growling, the thought of eating anything seems impossible right now. You're just focused on getting out of there as quickly as you can. Just as you finish paying, Leigh appears at your table. Without a word, she slides into the seat across from you. You're surprised to see her, and although you're not really in the mood for company or conversation, her presence is somehow less intrusive than you would expect.

“I couldn't help but notice your date never arrived,” Leigh comments with an amused smile, inadvertently adding salt to the wound. You think to yourself, Way to rub it in, Leigh, but you're too drained to actually say anything confrontational, so you just mumble a small, “Yeah.”

Leigh leans in a bit closer, lowering her voice as if she's about to let you in on a secret.

“Want to get out of here?”

It’s definitely not a date. Far from it.

It’s just two friends winding up spending Halloween together by chance.

It’s what Leigh keeps telling herself.

Leigh didn’t know what came over her when she went back to your table. She hadn't thought she'd be asking you to ditch the restaurant and wander the city for the rest of the night—together. What she did know was that she had been eating unusually slowly, glancing over at you occasionally to see how your evening was unfolding. But as it became painfully obvious that your date was a no-show, she couldn’t take it; seeing you left to handle the disappointment alone was more than she could bear.

Turning to Leigh in your car, you ask, “Do you mind if we stop first at the 7-Eleven on Main? I haven't had dinner yet.”

“What kind of dinner can you get from a 7-Eleven?” she asks.

You shrug and say, “Donuts.”

At the 7-Eleven, you grab a box of assorted donuts, and on a whim, you also pick up a few cans of beer to go along with them. With snacks in hand, you drive to a spot that overlooks the city—the same one where Leigh took you after getting takeouts the first time around. It’s not secluded—there’s a small crowd, with several cars parked and groups of people lounging on their car hoods.

“I wasn’t always attracted to him,” Leigh murmurs, after finishing her first beer. You both sit side-by-side with the trunk of your car open, swinging your legs while Leigh’s are crossed over the edge of the trunk.

You glance over at her, a curious ‘Hm?’ escaping your lips, though they're still full of donuts.

Leigh chuckles at your reaction, finding the sight of your cheeks stuffed with food more endearing than she probably should.

“Danny,” she clarifies with a sigh. “I actually used to hate him. He was always such a burden on Matt. Always dragging him into trouble.”

You think about what she's said, then offer a perspective, “You know, they say hate isn't the opposite of love, it's indifference. So maybe there’s always been something there, something more than just annoyance.”

Leigh leans back, stretching her arms out behind her for support as she considers your point. You find yourself wondering what's going through her mind. Is your honesty drawing her even closer to Danny? You could have exploited her past feelings, suggesting that maybe she's always disliked Danny and is confusing her loneliness for love. But you choose not to manipulate her emotions, even if it might be easy to sway her. You won't take advantage of her vulnerability just to get what you want.

Though you can’t deny that the temptation is there.

“Leigh, can I ask you a question?” you say, watching her closely.

She nods, her face open and expectant as she pops open another can of beer.

“How did you find out about me and Matt?”

Leigh takes a sip before answering. “Didn’t I mention it before?”

You purse your lips and shake your head, maintaining a neutral expression as you encourage her to elaborate.

“Danny told me,” Leigh reveals after a brief pause.

“What exactly did he tell you?”

Leigh hesitates, her eyes flickering to the side before meeting yours again. She sets the can down, her fingers drumming against the aluminum in a slow, rhythmic pattern.

“He just flat-out told me one night. I didn't believe him at first, so he mentioned your name to prove it, and I pieced together the rest. I tried to learn everything I could about you, where you lived... and that’s how I discovered your clinic in the city. And I... well, you know the rest,” she says. From what Leigh said, you easily conclude that Danny hadn't come clean to her about his role in facilitating your relationship with Matt. He had conveniently removed himself from the narrative, leaving out his involvement entirely. Lost in thought, you don't realize you've grown quiet until Leigh's voice pulls you back.

“Why do you ask?”

If you answer that question, you don’t believe you can continue hiding the truth about Danny any longer. As you watch Leigh, relaxed in the back of your car, her hair tousled by the gentle evening breeze, you're torn. You're afraid of disrupting her peace. The truth, as it often has, seems only to bring her pain. So, you buy yourself some time to think.

“Do you ever wish he had just kept it to himself? That you never knew any of this?”

Leigh appears briefly disconcerted by the question. She takes some time to think about how to respond, and you give her the time she needs, reaching for another piece of donut from the box. At this rate, you're on track to polish off half a dozen all by yourself.

“Knowing the truth hurt—a lot. It felt like I was suddenly a stranger to my own life,” Leigh says, looking somewhere distant before her eyes return to you. “But then again, knowing has changed how I see things, how I see him—and even how I see you. It’s given me a chance to see things as they really are, not just how I want them to be.”

“You never would’ve met me,” you say with a light-hearted grin, almost suggesting that maybe it was better she hadn’t. But Leigh gives you a look, a gentle sadness in her eyes that makes it clear she doesn’t entertain the thought of not having met you.

“What about you? Do you wish things had stayed hidden?” she asks, turning the question back on you.

A part of you—a very significant part—trembles on the edge of laying bare your feelings for her.

Fiddling with the edge of the donut box, you let a small smile flicker across your lips, but it doesn't reach your eyes. “There's something to be said for not knowing everything. Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss,” you say softly. “I mean, not knowing can save you from a lot of unnecessary heartache.”

As you speak, you’re still weighing whether knowing Leigh is turning into an unnecessary heartbreak.

Leigh nods slowly, the corners of her mouth lifting in a bittersweet smile. “Well, when you put it that way, maybe not knowing some things is for the best.”

It feels like a silent agreement on that fine line between knowing everything and being happier not knowing. Perhaps what you can do for now is spare Leigh from her own unnecessary heartbreak. If what she has with Danny is working, why ruin it?

“You know what's missing here? Music,” Leigh muses, reaching for her third beer. “Oh, and you better keep up,” she adds, glancing at the single beer you’ve had.

“Or how about you pace yourself? I'd hate for the party to end too soon for you,” you quip slyly.

Leigh grins, unfazed by your warning. She leans closer, and her breath, warmed by the beers, brushes against your cheek. “Speaking of parties, I actually got invited to this Halloween bash tonight. Everyone's supposed to be in costume, and there will definitely be music. We should go. What do you say?”

You pretend to think about it, but you’re already clearing out your trunk and hopping off it as you reply, “Well, you did say you needed music.”

A party isn’t really your scene.

Leigh is already tipsy by the time you both arrive at it. People are either clad in bulky costumes or barely dressed at all. Halloween decorations dangle from the ceiling, a foot or two above the faces of the revelers as strobe lights flash in erratic bursts. You weave through a crowd of zombies and sexy nurses, the bass from the DJ's speakers vibrating under your feet.

As you're both making your way toward the bar, a co-worker spots Leigh and pulls her aside excitedly. “Leigh, over here!” they shout over the noise, grabbing her arm. She turns back to you with a slightly apologetic grin. “Just a sec, I'll catch up!” she promises, before being swallowed by the crowd, her hand slipping from your arm.

But that was half an hour ago.

Now, you're feeling dizzy from the alcohol that's been keeping you company in Leigh's absence, and the sea of masked and painted faces around you is starting to merge into a blur. You round a corridor that brings you back to the main room and finally, you spot her. Leigh is near the dance floor, laughing with a group dressed in characters you don’t recognize. She sees you and waves excitedly, her movements a bit too exaggerated. You make your way over, dodging a particularly enthusiastic witch.

“Found you,” you say, as you reach her side.

Leigh grins, her eyes bright. “Dance with me!” she yells over the music, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the throng of sweaty bodies. Too exhausted to argue, you let her lead you into the chaos. As the music takes over and you both start to dance, the rest of the party fades into the background. Leigh's hand is warm in yours, her other hand reaching up to loop around your neck. The music swells, and the crowd presses in, pushing you closer together. Her breath is sweet with the tang of alcohol, and her cheeks are flushed.

Leigh’s movements become less and less coordinated as she leans into you, her body heavenly against yours. Her lips come dangerously close to yours, barely brushing against them, and for a moment—surrounded by her warmth and scent—you're tempted. You want her, deeply, irrevocably—

But not like this.

You firm your hands on her hips, pushing her slightly away. “Hey, let's get some air, yeah?” you suggest calmly despite your heart going crazy in your chest.

She looks up at you, a bit confused but nods, her smile unfaltering. You take her hand again and guide her off the dance floor. Moving through the crowd proves to be a challenge with Leigh's unsteady steps. She stumbles, laughing as she clings to your arm for support.

“I almost ate it back there!” she exclaims, still giggling.

“Yeah, you did,” you mutter distractedly. As the festive sounds of the party fade behind the closed door, reality slaps you both with a sobering chill. Leigh is simply too drunk, and you’re almost a fool for nearly taking advantage of that. You can't concentrate on anything but what nearly happened back there.

You feel Leigh’s hand slip back into yours, slotting in place like magnets that just fit together. Her laughter has quieted, and she leans into you slightly, resting her head on your shoulder. It's then you realize that a drunken Leigh is more affectionate and less aware of physical boundaries—dangerous.

“You know, maybe we should call it a night? I can take you home,” you suggest, making an effort not to lean into her, even though the intoxicating mix of her shampoo and the faint scent of sweat beckons you closer.

Her reaction is immediate and surprisingly lucid. “I can’t go home like this,” Leigh protests, straightening up. “Jules has her own Halloween thing tonight, and I can't show up drunk and be seen like this by her. She’s been sober for a year now; I can’t just...” Her voice trails off, filled with worry.

You glance at your wrist and see it's already 2 AM. A sigh escapes you as the reality of your early morning responsibilities begins to weigh in. You have to be up in four hours to open the clinic at 8 AM, and staying out to make sure Leigh fully sobers up is far from feasible. Leigh appears exhausted, her eyes heavy, even as she tries to muster a smile.

“Listen, Leigh,” you say, eyeing a practical solution. “I have an early start tomorrow, and you look like you need some rest. How about you crash at my place tonight? You can sleep it off and head home in the morning when you’re feeling better.”

Leigh seems to consider this for a moment, her gaze drifting towards the street where groups of men glance their way as they pass by. Finally, she nods meekly, looking relieved.

“That sounds really good right now. My head feels heavy, and I just want to go to sleep,” she mumbles, letting out a weary sigh and rubbing her eyes. You help her to her feet and steady her as you both walk back to your car, which is fortunately parked nearby. Leigh curls up in the passenger seat, and you crack the windows to let in some fresh air.

Once home, you give Leigh some clothes to change into and then start setting up the couch for yourself, grabbing an extra pillow and blanket from the cupboard. As you turn back a while later, you see Leigh, in her slightly tipsy state, misinterpreting your preparations. She gives a small, tired smile and plops down onto the couch. Reacting quickly, you catch her just before she falls completely into it.

“W-What are you doing?” she whispers, surprised as she finds herself practically in your arms, half-carried in a bridal style.

You feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your chest, aware of how close she is. “This is for me,” you say, nodding towards the couch, “you’re taking the bed.”

To avoid any further confusion, you slowly lift her up, wrapping an arm securely around her waist as you guide her to your bedroom. Leigh’s head remains tucked in your neck, her body relaxed and yielding as you move.

“You really don’t have to do this,” she mumbles against your skin, though her tone suggests she’s grateful for your care. You don’t see the blush that has crept to her own cheeks, your eyes fixed straight ahead.

“It’s no trouble at all,” you assure her as you gently set her down on your bed. “Make yourself comfortable. The mattress’ much better for a good night's sleep.”

Leigh nods, pulling the covers around her. “Thank you,” she says, her voice soft and more sober now.

“Anytime,” you respond with a reassuring smile. “Good night, Leigh.” You close the bedroom door softly behind you and retreat to the couch.

“Good night, Y/N…” Leigh whispers to herself, a faint smile touching her lips as she nestles deeper into the bed.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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agoodfictitle-shadowban · 2 years

Text

The Price You Pay - Part 1

Wanda Maximoff x f!reader

[TPYP Masterlist]

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Life as a college student isn't always easy, so when the opportunity to make some money by pretending to date your best friend's sister arise, you decide to take it.

Tags: fake dating, paid dating, jealousy, possessiveness, Pietro's bestie, darkish!wanda, no Avengers, bad life decisions, college!au, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, divorced!parents, Vision is kind of a dick, other mcu characters apparition, no proofreading (lemme know if im missing something)

Warnings: Bad language, alcohol consumption, some violence, smuttyfruity (so, 18+, minors dni, dom!Wanda, bratty!reader, will add warnings when we get to it)

A/n: im very tired, but it was fun to write this, and it will certainly go in interesting places. Also, lemme know if we want powers wanda or no powers wanda

Tag List: @red1culous (sorry red, you'll have to worry a bit longer about Wanda being safe in Paperthin xD)

The sky above your head was grey from clouds heavy with rain, the water falling over you in a pattering pattern that left you relaxed in the pool. You liked doing that during hot summer days, just lie in the water when more was coming down on you. Your family certainly found that weird, but they were away for at least two more weeks, gone to see family somewhere on the other side of the world. You were content to stay home since you didn't get along with this side of the 'family' - or the asshole side, as you liked to call them.

"Y/n?" You heard a voice call behind you, and you immediately recognized it was coming from your best friend, Pietro Maximoff. You'd known him since he arrived in the country with his family, and the second you met each other spark started flying. Literally. It was during a workshop class, and since then you'd been inseparable. You even went to college together.

So, you looked up and here he was, his head popping above the wooden fence between your gardens, his stupid silver mop top barely visible against the grey sky.

"What is it, Piet?" You called, and he climbed the fence to jump on your side.

"I just wanted to see if you'd like to come spend some time at home, Wands and I are gonna get some pizzas and watch some tv or something."

"As long as you pay for the pizza," you said, finally rolling from your back to swim to the edge of the pool. You jumped it to sit on the side before extending your arm, grabbing your towel.

"Free food really is the best way to get to you, huh?"

You laughed as you stood up, towel in your hair as you went back inside your house, Pietro on your toes. "I've gotten used to the student life, free food is best food."

He rolled his eyes at that. You could have lived comfortably as a student, but you refused to accept the money your step-father offered you every time. Something in you made it really hard to accept it, you just never could pinpoint what it was. The man was a good guy, but you just couldn't get past it no matter how hard you tried. So in the end, you were happy to just side-step yourself from your family as you went on with your life, coming back only when your mother asked you to, so she could show to him that she had been a good mother to you - and you believed she tried, but never quite succeeded.

"So prideful," Pietro teased lightly and you threw your towel at him. With his reflexes he grabbed it before it could hit him in the head, so you simply gave him the finger before disappearing for your room.

"Gotta put some clothes on," you said.

You went for something comfortable since you knew no one important would be there, only you and the twins. You briefly thought of Wanda there and then, and thought that maybe you should make an effort before you thought better of it. You used to have a crush on her when you were in high-school, right before you realized she would never see you that way. To her, you would always be Pietro's best friend and nothing else, and maybe it was better that way.

In the end, when you came back downstairs, you were wearing sweatpants with a band shirt and a hoodie. That would have to do.

"Okay, let's go get pizzas!" You exclaimed and jumped on Pietro's back in a surprise attack. He almost fell forward but managed to keep you on his back until you were at his door. He judged that it was enough of a ride, and dropped you without any warning. Luckily, you had great balance and simply fell on your feet like nothing happened.

Once inside, you saw that the place was already darkened not only by the weather but also by the blinds that had been dropped to create a bit of a theatre experience.

"Okay, remind me why we don't watch it in the theatre room?" You asked Pietro who shrugged.

"It distands the image too much according to Wanda."

"But the seats are so much more comfortable!" You complained dramatically.

"We literally have two giant couches, just take one for yourself." That was a good rebuttal, so you didn't insist, simply dropping yourself on the couch perpendicular to the tv. "Hey Wanda," you said to the– "you dyed your hair," you pointed out. Instead of her usual brown chestnut hair, she now had ginger strands falling over her shoulders. Damn, she looked good, and you had to fight not to stare like a creep at her.

"Yeah. I thought it would be a nice change." She shrugged and you nodded with a small smile.

"Well, it looks good on you," you complimented before reaching for the popcorn on the table, missing the small blush on her cheeks.

"Thanks."

Pietro arrived with the pizza menu and his phone against his ear, asking silently what pizza you wanted. You mouthed "the usual" and he nodded before looping back to the kitchen to put the menu back down. He was fast to come back and he fell on Wanda's couch like a lump of wood.

"Always so graceful, Maximoff," you teased when he barely managed to avoid the coffee table with his feet.

"Shut up, Y/ln."

You chuckled at his comeback, and once everyone was settled, Wanda took command of the tv and pressed play on the sitcom she was currently binging - turns out it was Friends. After the pizza arrived, and once they were almost finished, you got rid of your hoodie and threw it on the armrest where your head was resting, feeling too hot with the whole digestion process going on. You also decided to take a bathroom break pretty much right after, and it had nothing to do with the soda you drank helplessly.

Then, when you came back, you didn't notice anything was amiss and kept watching the show. Actually, you noticed only after Wanda went to bed, after you stayed downstairs with Pietro to play a bit on his PS5, and after you decided it was time for you to go home.

"What the hell are you doing?" Pietro asked you as he saw you look everywhere around the couch you decided to declare yours, throwing pillows around.

"I'm looking for my hoodie, I can't find it anywhere," you muttered.

Your best friend looked at you for a second, trying to think about it before it finally hit him. "Oh yeah, Wanda borrowed it when you went to the bathroom. She must have taken it upstairs."

That caused a frown to crease your brows. Why would she do that? Pietro had a knowing smirk on his lips, but you missed it, too busy looking around yourself in confusion.

"Huh. I mean. Guess it's not lost at least. Just… hope she can bring it back tomorrow, it's kind of my favorite," you mumbled, unsure of how you should react at this point.

"I'll tell her that for sure."

You walked to the hallway, and put back your shoes. "Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, I'll come by," he nodded and you left the Maximoff household, feeling the cold seep into you as you walked home without your hoodie, missing the pair of green eyes looking at you through one of the bedroom windows.

The next morning, the doorbell woke you up and you frowned. You were fairly certain that you weren't expecting anything today except for Pietro, but it was way too early for him to already be awake - it was only ten. Which meant that it was also too early for you to be awake. You covered your face with your pillow, which quickly proved to be a very inefficient tactic when the doorbell echoed in the house once again, pushing you out of your bed. With your bedsheet around you, you walked downstairs like a ghost and opened the door only to blink a few times when you saw Wanda right in front of you.

"Wanda…?" You asked, perplexed, and missed the look she gave you when she noticed you were wearing your sheet around your shoulders. "What are you doing here so early?"

Trying to get rid of the morning blur, you rubbed your eyes with your hands as you awaited for an answer.

"I came to bring your hoodie back." But as you looked at her, you could see that she was actually wearing it. What the hell?

"Okay, yeah, I can see my hoodie is with you. Now, do I also put you in my dresser? 'Cause I'm not sure you'll fit." She rolled her eyes but still smiled, and it made your heart jump.

No. Bad heart. Bad, bad.

"Actually…" she pushed inside when you took a step to let her come in, since she seemed to want to talk. "I need you to do me a favor."

"Are you… is my hoodie your hostage?"

"It is your favorite, right?" She cocked her head, and you had to admit it was pretty intimidating, even if she was threatening a piece of clothing.

You sighed. You'd hear her out, then see what you wanted to do.

"What do you want?"

"I need you to go to a party with me." Yeah, okay, so far so good, but clearly there was something else going on. "And pretend you are dating me."

What the what? You blinked at her before laughing. But when she just tilted her head - almost threatening - you stopped laughing. "Oh, you're serious." You hummed, your brain trying to catch up on what the hell was happening. "Why?"

"Because I want to stick it to Vision." Ah, of course. You heard of the guy. Vision Stark. Rich people and their weird names. Whatever he did, he clearly managed to piss off Wanda. "He cheated on me right before finals, I almost failed because of him. No one messes with my studies."

Huh. That made sense. Mostly. The thing that made you incredibly perplexed was why she came to you for that. "So, I go to that party with you, we pretend to be dating, and then what?"

"And then you get your hoodie back."

"How… how is that working as revenge?" You adjusted your bedsheet to pinch your nose.

"Because this way he gets to see I don't care."

Ah yes, asking someone to pretend dating with you was clearly the right way to show that you didn't care. At this point you almost felt like a headache was coming your way, when an idea came to you.

"Okay, I'll agree. For a price." Because if you were to agree to a crazy scheme, you might as well get something out of it. And not just your clothes back.

Wanda narrowed her eyes. "Your price is your hoodie."

"Oh, come on Wanda, I know you can do better than that."

She bit her lip, knowing full well where this was going. But at this point, she might as well get there. "What do you want?"

"200 bucks an hour, and I'm yours for the night," you said like it was nothing.

She scoffed at that and crossed her arms, straightening her back. "100," she tried to negotiate, and you cocked an eyebrow with a smirk. So she was ready to pay.

"180," you went and she rolled her eyes.

"That's barely negotiating, Y/ln."

"Hey, what can I say, I like to drive a hard bargain. Come on, you know I'm a good liar. I'll make everything look like we're the real deal." You still sported your smirk as she looked you up and down. "175."

She looked like she was doing some math in her head. "150." She offered, her head tilting to the side. She was close to telling you off, you could see it in the way her eyes were glowering at you.

"165," you still dangled in front of her with bravado. Now she was chewing her lips, and all you could do was watch as she finally, finally, extended her hand.

"Deal," she said, and you took it firmly in yours.

A small jolt of electricity ran up your spine at the contact and almost took your breath away. "Perfect. When is the party?"

"Tomorrow night." She pulled on your hand so you would fall forward closer to her, her hand finding your chin to look in your eyes. "You better be ready."

You maintained eye contact despite the strength she put in holding you in place, refusing to back off. "Oh, I will be, trust me." She pushed you back after a moment when her gaze dropped on your lips, and despite the distance you could see her eyes had darkened. It elicited something in you that you preferred to ignore - no old crush would come in between you and your money.

"Good girl."

She released you, but you could still feel her grip on your jaw. This was a whole new side of her you had no idea existed until now, and it certainly made you feel things. You followed each and every of her steps when she left your house.

Then it hit you all at once. In what kind of bullshit did you walk in?

#wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #idk how to tag #tpyp fic

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lovelybarnes · 2 years

Text

drunk- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, natasha romanoff, wanda maximoff, sam wilson warnings: alcohol, being drunk, being hungover, embarrassment? about: request (DF31) “maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance.”+(DN43) “what did you just say?” a/n: this took so long, i’m so sorry, thank you so much for being patient, i hope you enjoy! i didn’t do the other part of the request just because i don’t think i could write that with it coming out well and legible, so i apologize for that! first of my installments for jamecember! @writingsbychlo (did not tag, sorry!!)

you look pretty.

it’s not like it’s anything unusual, you always look pretty, no matter if you're in the terrifyingly expensive floor-length stain gowns or in one of the shirts you'd stolen from him or steve or sam.

but there's just something about the carefree laugh you're gracing him with right now that makes you glow like the stars he saw in the dates in the desert that he’d plan.

you're not dressed in anything particularly spectacular but you look the part, with wisps of hair falling over your face and a beaming smile that makes him sport one of his own.

you're talking to natasha and steve, eyes shining when natasha deadpans something, and you burst out in beautiful laughter, a hand reaching to grasp steve's arm that makes an ugly spark of jealousy urge bucky to take his eyes off of you. but he doesn't, because even though you're touching his best friend and not him, you're magnetic; a light to the moths that are his attention.

you recover, crinkled eyes accompanying the remark you make that makes steve and natasha laugh. in turn, you look on proudly, visibly feeding off of the laughter you’d caused.

bucky is staring, a little starstruck as he observes you move with such effortless beauty.

“maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” a voice startles from next to him. it makes bucky peel his attention off of you and onto the person that had managed to sneak up on him through the daze of you he was stuck in. sam stands from bucky’s side, a raised eyebrow observing him as bucky lets an unbothered facade fall over his features, trying his hardest to clean away the lovestruck look that had brightened his eyes and pulled at his lips.

“‘dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” bucky shrugs, reluctantly turning to sam completely. sam exhales annoyedly, cocking his head to the side as his chin juts up and down in exasperated understanding.

“uh huh,” he replies, tongue poking through his cheek as he eyes you. “so why’re you starin’ at her so intensely?”

bucky purses his lips, “not intensely.”

sam grins in a way that lets bucky know he messed up, “so you were staring?”

bucky looks back at him tiredly, “not staring.”

“tell that to your face.”

“that’s just how my face is.”

“uh huh. so what you’re tellin’ me right now is that you aren’t interested in y/n?” sam asks.

bucky’s eyebrows pinch together, scanning the look on sam’s face as he thinks over his reply.

“yeah,” he says finally, “not interested.” he lies.

“so it’s not a problem if thor asks her out?”

sam’s words make bucky’s facade crack a little, but he forces a shrug anyway, even through the clenched jaw that sam is smirking at. “not a problem.”

“tell that to your face.”

“hey, buck,” you greet with a smile, settling into the couch next to him. he doesn’t fail to notice the way your thigh is pressed to his, although you don’t seem to give it too much thought as you look up at the television, sucking a drop of something sweet off of your thumb. you jut out a small bowl of sliced mango, pink with chamoy and doused in lime and chili, “want some?”

there’s barely a pause before he responds, but it seems too long for you, a pout forming on your lips, you shake the bowl enticingly, “c’mon, i spent ten minutes on it and everything, i swear it’s good.”

because the mango looks really good--and a little because bucky can’t bring himself to deny anything you offer--bucky gives in, two hesitant fingers reaching in your bowl to push a little cube of mango into his mouth. he hums when he tastes it, much more interested in the proud look on your face after you hear him. “you like it?”

“yeah,” bucky says a little breathlessly, observing the bright grin that overcomes your face.

“well, i can make you some whenever you want,” you offer, taking some mango for yourself and setting the bowl in between you two. bucky takes another piece mostly for the opportunity to see that look on your face again.

a few episodes of whatever it was bucky was watching pass by until your phone vibrates, the bowl of cut fruit empty on the table in front of you and bucky. you open it, humming to yourself before meeting bucky’s eyes.

“nat says we’re going out to some new bar today. all of us, i think. d’you wanna come?” you ask.

“are you going?” bucky asks, holding back a cringe when he realizes it sounds exactly like what it is, but you don’t seem to mind, a small smile on your lips instead when you confirm.

“oh. sure,” bucky says then, too busy observing you to concentrate on not being as obvious as he is.

“i gotta get ready, then,” you say, bouncing off the couch and heading for the elevator, “i’ll see you there, buck!”

“can’t wait, doll,” bucky half-lies.

bucky isn’t completely sure how you got so drunk.

he’d seen you at the bar, caught glimpses of you ordering drinks with natasha and wanda, declining and occasionally accepting others from guys that buy them for you between the conversations steve and sam drag him into. it’s almost frustrating pretending like the reason he came to this party was the drinks and dancing and not you.

early into the night, he manages to evade steve enough to meet you again, clearly tipsy as you stumble, a lazy grin on your face when you look up at him. “bucky!” you cheer, heading towards him, “hold my drink,” you instruct, handing him what you’d just been drinking. he immediately places his palm over the opening of it, holding it closer to him while you search for something in your bag. “aha!” you hurrah, pulling out a lip gloss. you apply it with a pop before you put it back, looking back at him until your eyes suddenly get caught on something and you dig into your bag again.

“what?” bucky wonders, an insecure hand reaching up to his cheek.

you ignore him, and with another aha, you present him with a small wipe, leaning close enough to him that he can smell your newly applied lip gloss. you wipe gently at his cheek until you’re satisfied, then pull at something on his shirt, “glitter,” you shrug, “such a hassle to get off.”

you ask for your drink again and continue mindlessly chatting with him, ignoring all advancements made on you as if they were never made in the first place until sam finds bucky again, pulling him away because he apparently just has to meet this guy. bucky grumbles while sam drags him away, promising to meet up with you again soon while you nod, sipping from your glass.

it’s not until he can finally get away from his friends again that he really sees you again.

your words are slurred together, a sheen covering your whole body that makes it seem like you’re shining in the lights of the bar. you’re warm, the heat from the hands you suddenly cup his jaw with startling bucky. excited, glittering eyes scan over his face, a wide grin taking over your face. you’re so open, words and wandering hands without the usual filter that would stop you from telling bucky how great his arms looked in that shirt that day or tucking that stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“you’re so pretty,” you murmur, unfiltered honesty in the way you look up at him with a distraught smile, attention never straying from him, as if you couldn’t stop staring at him and soaking him up. your pointer finger is tucked behind his chin and you press your thumb into the little cleft at his chin, eyes rising back to his. “you’re so pretty,” you repeat, “i want you to be my boyfriend.”

bucky knows you’re drunk, but he can’t stop the way his breath gets caught in his throat at your declaration. the hope that bubbles up in his stomach is shoved back just as soon in an effort to remain realistic.

“‘s why i always look at you and sit right next to you in the couch. so our thighs touch an’ ev’rything’,” you confess cluelessly, “why won’t you be my boyfriend, bucky?” you whine, a pout on your lips as you suddenly let go of his face and let your head drop against his chest. he can feel the warmth of your forehead through his shirt and hear your unintelligible babbles about him.

you begin to reach for the cup in his hand, but he draws it further away from you, a hand holding your hip so you don’t chase after it--not that you really could without falling flat on your face at the moment, “‘think you’ve had enough, doll.”

your shoulder slump at his words, a groan slipping past your lips as you go to press yourself against him again. “how d’you expect me not to fall in love with you when you say things like that?” you cry.

love echoes in his brain, almost as if to alert him. did you hear that?

“what--what did you just say?” he asks dazedly.

you ignore him, “callin’ me doll and dove and holdin’ my things and treatin’ me like a princess. god, bucky, why aren’t you my boyfriend? do you not like me?” you whimper, the liquor in your system making you go through a rollercoaster of emotions that brings tears to your eyes. “why don’t you like me? i cut fruit up for you and make sure tony buys that detergent you like.”

“i don’t-- i didn’t--”

shiny tears fall down your cheeks as you shove your face into his chest, and bucky goes to put your cup on the bar, leaving both hands free to hold you while you cry. “okay, baby, think it’s time to go home.”

the unintentional nickname makes you cry a little harder, drunkenly strung together words telling him how unfair you think everything is.

bucky motions to the bartender to put everything on tony’s tab as he nearly carries you to the space where the rest of the team was, unsurprised to find everyone dispersed. he spots wanda and nat talking to each other at a table, and he makes his way over there with you in front of him, firm hands around your waist guiding you and arms keeping away any elbows or limbs that threaten to touch or trip you.

they hear you before they see you, your squeals at seeing them too loud to ignore.

“nat! wan!” you exclaim excitedly, their names dragged out.

“you’re drunk,” natasha observes with an amused raise of her eyebrow.

“very drunk,” bucky adds, “are you guys heading home yet? i think it’s time for her to go back.”

“not yet,” natasha shrugs, “this girl has been checking me out all night, and i think it’s time to act on it.” then, turning to wanda, “what about you?”

wanda shakes her head, “i have to make sure pietro won’t die of alcohol poisoning.”

“why don’t you take her?” natasha asks.

“uh…” bucky remembers the feel of your hands on his cheeks, lips so close they would be touching if you moved a millimeter, the drunk confessions of love falling from your lips. “don’t think she’d really let me drive.”

you’re hanging off his arm and nuzzled in his chest, cheek against his bicep, a large smile on your face.

“clingy,” natasha states, “which is strange… considering there are many avengers to hang off of but she chose you.” a knowing smirk pulls at her lips, and it doesn’t go away when bucky sends her a look. “it’ll be fine,” she says after a pause, “just make sure to put on her seatbelt.”

“goodnight,” wanda tells you, and you repeat her words without a thought, too busy telling her something about bucky. he hears the word boyfriend again and a red flushes his cheeks.

natasha chuckles, tilting a beer at him, “starting to see how similar you and rogers are, barnes.”

“i’ll see you tomorrow,” bucky grumbles, taking your hand to lead you out.

it’s a struggle to get you settled in the car. you can’t seem to stop touching him, some part of your skin pressed against some part of his all the while he tries to sit you down in the backseat. you pout and whine about how you want to sit next to him in the passenger seat, hands on the back of his neck as he leans over to get the seatbelt around you. “i promise i’ll be good, bucky, i promise.”

after your hands remove themselves from his neck and instead tangle with the fingers trying to click the seatbelt closed, he sighs softly and looks up at you, all pleading eyes and wobbly lip as you swear you’ll keep your hands to yourself as long as you’re next to him.

bucky purses his lips, unable to hold back the breathy chuckle and lovesick smile that grace his lips when you frown at him, your thumb softening the lines of his lips.

“do you promise, y/n?”

you nod, holding out your hand, pinky outstretched, “pinky promise.”

curling his own finger around yours, you squeal, grabbing his face and kissing his nose. he ignores the raging blush that overtakes his face as he helps you out, opening the door of the passenger seat for you.

you obey for the rest of the night. for the most part, at least. the only thing you insist on is holding one of his hands while he drives, humming happily along to the radio as you observe the night sky, his hand in yours. your eyelids droop a few minutes in but your fingers never untangle themselves from his.

you wake up the next morning with a throbbing headache and the lingering warmth of bucky’s skin on yours, your fingers aching to wrap around hands you only remembered the feel of. you groan and squeeze your eyes closed the second after you pry them open, slapping a hand on your face and rubbing at your eyes to soothe the pulsing.

slowly sitting up, you’re startled to feel something hot and solid underneath the hand you use to support yourself, retracting it back to your chest immediately and staring in horror at bucky barnes laying next to you. “fuckfuckfuck…” you mumble, small snippets of memories shattering your brain, “what did i do…” your brain barely registers that bucky is fully clothed, looking like he never changed out of his clothes from yesterday, or that your fingers are still lightly hooked before you unconsciously remove them while you straighten.

bucky’s eyes flutter open after a second, going to meet your widened eyes as you scan him.

“what are you doing here?” you ask in surprise, not giving him a chance to answer when your mind goes in another direction, “did we…”

it’s never been something you’re particularly against, but the fact you can barely remember last night is not the way you wanted it to happen with bucky.

luckily, bucky shakes his head, the fact he’s not hungover clear in the way he doesn’t pause or his eyes to calm the dizziness that threatens to tip him over on the bed. “no, no, of course not. you were really drunk last night.”

“very drunk,” you echo, beginning to nod in understanding until you’re hit with a wave of nausea. he nods, repeating your words. “okay. so what are you doing… here? in my bed?”

bucky chuckles a little, a light blush beginning to taint his cheeks as a hand reaches out to scratch his neck, “uh. you wouldn’t exactly… let me leave last night. each time i tried to tuck you in and go to bed, you would pull me back and refuse to let go.”

you decide to not ask about the ‘tucking you in’ portion of his response in favor of looking horrified, “oh my god, bucky, i’m so sorry, i usually glom onto natasha or someone… i can’t believe i did that.”

“it’s okay, i was kinda expectin’ it after the whole night.”

at the discovery that you were like that the entire night, you press a palm to your eyes, “i am so sorry. i must’ve been so annoying to take care of. why didn’t you just leave me with nat or wanda?”

you’re aware before bucky can even respond and you mutter a curse against them, making bucky laugh.

“i can’t believe they just dropped me off with you like my babysitter, i hate them, god--was i really…” you poke your tongue through the skin of your cheek, “i’ve been told i get clingy when i get drunk.”

bucky nods, “that matches up.”

your head falls into your hands, “i am so sorry. did i say anything too embarrassing?”

“well, you did ramble a lot about how pretty i ame,” bucky chuckles, red blooming in his skin, the tremor of nerves in his playful tone unnoticeable to your hungover self.

with a panic much too real to be a lie, you freeze, “did i?”

bucky nods, “uh huh.”

“i’ve never done that,” you mumble, ignoring the annoying voice in your head that reminds you that you’ve never been this interested in anyone before, never yearned as much as you are right now, with bucky so close in your reach yet so far. “what’d i say?” you ask nervously, fearful your drunk self had ruined the relationship you had with bucky. you don’t know if you want him to shrug off your question and say nothing important, or tell you every word you’d told him, some certain look in his eyes that told you he wanted it to be real.

“‘asked me to be your boyfriend a couple’a times. made me blush a little, all the things you were saying.”

you blink, catching the glint in his eye, “did i?”

bucky hums, careful eyes on your face to watch for your reaction, “uh huh. you started cryin’ at one point, scared the crap out of me.”

you scrunch your nose, “oh, i really do wish you stay away from me when i’m drunk, i’m gonna start revealing all my secrets.”

“like the fact you make stark buy that detergent i like? or that you ‘sit close to me so our thighs touch’ purposefully?”

“i told you that?” you gasp, bringing a hand up to your mouth, “did i completely destroy our friendship?”

with a confidence only rooting from the way you acted with him the night before and the tone that makes him believe something he’s been hesitant to for so long, he licks his lips, “i hope so, doll. ‘been wantin’ to be more than that for a while.”

maybe nat and wanda aren’t all that bad.

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book-place · 2 years

Text

What Happens in Sokovia

This is a prologue to ➝ This ➝ but it can be read as a part 1 or a part 2 it doesn’t really matter for me I guess

Warnings: Cursing, Age of Ultron spoilers, violence, blood, character death, sad avengers (yes that is a warning), let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Avengers x reader platonic

*not my gif*

Summary: Lots of things took place during the Battle of Sokovia, many stories about what happened were yet to be told, especially your story

A/N: I know that a couple of you may have been waiting for this and I’m sorry it took so long, I kept losing the will to write it so it took me a while- Also, comment if you feel like it; feedback is always appreciated :)

Extra: @natswife-marvelicious @wayward-river sorry I forgot to tag you guys when I first published, you both had asked or mentioned that you would like a part two

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You gave Wanda’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, seeing her fidget with her rings, something you realized she did whenever she was nervous.

In return she looked over at you and gave you a weary smile, appreciating your attempt to comfort her.

“You’ll do great.” You said softly, making her smile turn more genuine.

Just then Pietro came speeding into the room with that wide, stupid grin of his, “I look good, no?” He asked cockily, doing a small spin to show off his new shirt.

You playfully rolled your eyes, nudging Wanda lightly, “Oh yes, Peit. You really dress to impress.”

It was then his turn to roll his eyes playfully as you and Wanda giggled.

Since Wanda and Pietro’s leave from Hydra, you had been there for them. To show them the ropes to life outside of that awful place.

While the other avengers had been weary of the twins, you had welcomed them with open arms and a kind smile.

You introduced them to your favorite pizza places, showed them all your favorite movies and tv shows, as well as lending them your favorite books.

Because of this, you quickly became their first best friend, besides each other of course. They quickly grew as fond of you as you did them.

You had been part of the avengers since the Battle of New York. They immediately became like the family you never had. All of them loving and adoring you as you did them.

You glanced down at your watch, “Come on. Let’s go see the others, they’ll be waiting.”

The two nodded before following you out of the room and down the hall into a large room where all of the avengers stood.

Steve gave you all the briefing on the mission and you kept trying to reassure the twins with glances and smiles as they fidgeted and shifted all throughout the talk.

You all gave a final nod to Steve’s plan before starting to exit the room, Nat gave your shoulder a squeeze before walking out with Clint who playfully threw you a wink.

You were quick to usher Wanda and Pietro out of the room though, as Tony and Steve began arguing.

“Do they always have to fight?” Pietro asked with a groan, probably from getting headaches from the two always yelling at each other.

You giggled softly and gave him a goofy grin, “It never stops.”

-•-

You pushed the robot to the ground with one final kick before finally turning visible again.

Pietro, who was fighting next to you, jumped a little bit as you reappeared, “I am never going to get used to that.”

You smiled and shrugged, “What can I say? It comes with the power of invisibility.”

He laughed before racing off.

Looking over, you saw Steve with his hands full so you quickly turned invisible again and rushed to the super soldier's aid.

The blond haired man turned in confusion as the robot seemed to be fighting thin air, thinking it was maybe malfunctioning, before a smile came onto his face in realization.

“Thanks n/n!” He called into the general area that he thought you might be in.

“You’re welcome!” You called back, still invisible.

Once you saw that he could handle it, you quickly bid him a goodbye before rushing off to see if another one of your teammates needed help.

Turned out one of them did, Tony Stark.

You let out a low chuckle and called out to him as you swept a robots legs out from underneath it.

“I’m always saving your ass, Stark!” You joked, continuing to fight off the robots.

He scoffed playfully and dramatically, “This wonderful ass never needs saving!”

You let out a laugh, finishing off your small group of robots before smirking as an idea popped into your head.

You casually strolled over to the Iron Man, after turning back invisible, who stood in his suit, looking around for any upcoming robots.

“TONY!” You yelled.

The man jumped at least a foot in the air and whipped around to see you now visible and laughing so hard that you were clutching your stomach.

He rolled his eyes, “Ha ha, n/n. Very funny.” His voice was void of all humor.

What you didn’t know though was that he was trying to hide his own smile.

You always had a way to lighten the mood and make people laugh, even in the hardest of times.

You giggled and hurried away before Tony could try and get his revenge.

You were by yourself for about five minutes before you came to a stop and started helping Clint.

“Hey, Birdman!” You called, joining his fight.

“Sup, Violet!” He called back.

Violet became your nickname with him after the two of you watched the Incredibles one day while the rest of the team was on a mission.

“How are the twins holding up?” He yelled over all the noise after a couple of minutes.

You shrugged, “I should probably go check up on them.”

“You do that,” He called, pulling his bowstring back, “I can handle it over here.”

You nodded, knowing he could in fact handle it, and hurried off to go check on the Maximoffs.

You found Pietro first whom, despite everything, seemed to be having the time of his life.

“How you doing, Piet?” You asked.

He flashed you a cocky smile, “Why I am doing wonderful, Y/n, never been better.”

You let out a laugh and took another robot down.

“These things keep multiplying!” You huffed.

You were so focused on finishing off one robot that you hadn’t even realized that another one was sneaking up right behind you.

Pietro noticed though, and called out your name in fear.

You whipped around in confusion and let out a little yelp as you jumped back and fell when the robot tried to grab you.

The man quickly ran over the destroyed the robot in one go before speeding to your side and helping you up, “Are you okay, Y/n?” His eyes swam with concern for his best friend.

You quickly brushed him off and gave him a goofy grin, “Why I am doing wonderful, Pietro, never better!” You tried to imitate his thick accent causing him to chuckle and sigh in relief.

“I better go check on your sister.” You said, bidding him a farewell before once again turning invisible and hurrying off to find a Maximoff.

As you rushed through the city, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, something bad was going to happen, but you just brushed it off. Of course something bad was going to happen, people were losing their homes and their lives in this battle.

You let out a small breath of relief when you finally spotted Wanda, and you were about to call out to her when you stopped yourself short.

She looked around in panic before quickly running through the door to the closest building, closing the it behind her.

You didn’t hesitate to quickly run after her, closing the door softly behind you.

You were met with the sight of her cowering against a wall in a corner, her head in her hands.

As soon as she heard you coming in, her head quickly snapped up with wide eyes and hands raised, ready to fight you off. Until her eyes flashed with recognition once she realized that it was just you and she dropped her hands to her sides with a sigh of relief.

“Wands,” You called out softly, squatting down in front of you, placing your hand gently on her leg, “What’s wrong?”

It was a stupid question, you knew that, but you wanted her to know that you were there for her.

Her eyes once again went wide, “They were- so much- couldn’t- how did-“ She started stuttering out, before putting her hands in her hair and beginning to pull on it.

“Hey, hey, hey,” You said soothingly, gently grabbing her hands and pulling them away from her hair, “Don’t go messing up that beautiful hair on me, Maximoff.”

Your joke at least got a small laugh out of her, which you counted as a huge victory, “It’s okay to be overwhelmed.” You reassured her, “It’s also okay to not want to go back out there.”

She looked up at you in surprise, silently wondering how you had known that what she was thinking, “It just doesn’t make any sense.”

She didn’t elaborate on what part of it she was talking about, but you nodded along anyway, “You’re right. None of this makes sense. I’m fighting robots in a floating city, and just two weeks ago I was a normal girl with the power of invisibility.”

She laughed a little bit again, so you continued in a soft voice, “You don’t have to go back out there, Wanda.” You assured her, and she seemed to relax a little bit at hearing that, “But if you go out there, you can help save so many people- your people. If you end up choosing to walk out that door, you become an avenger.”

When she stayed silent, you gave her leg a little squeeze and stood up, going back out into the fight.

You started immediately helping a woman and her child who couldn’t get out of a small shop, before you saw Wanda march out of the building, looking as badass as ever, destroying every robot that even dared come near her.

You smiled softly, “That’s my girl.” You said softly before finishing helping the woman and child and then moving on to check up on another one of your teammates.

Invisibility on, you swerved through the city helping people and taking down robots along the way, on a mission of finding an avenger.

Your sights finally fixed on a familiar mop of red hair, which still seemed to be in pristine condition, despite the raging battle.

“Nat!” You called, kicking a robot sideways.

She smiled in your general distraction as she ripped a robots head off, “Hey, n/n!”

You giggled, “You’re so badass.”

“So are you, honey!” She called back over her shoulder, ripping an arm off another.

After a couple more minutes of fighting, you decided that you had to move on.

You quickly became un-invisible and ran over to Natasha, giving her a quick hug.

“Love you, Nat!”

She quickly recuperated the hug, giving you a quick kiss on the head, “Love you too, n/n. See you in a minute, sweetie.”

It was something that became an inside joke to the two of you, see you in a minute, because one day you made such a big deal about leaving Natasha in the tower as you left for a mission, only to show back up exactly a moment later because you forgot your suit.

She watched you run away until you were no longer visible with a small smile before turning around and diving right back into the fight that she had put on hold for you.

You waved to Vision as you continued running, giving him a small smile, “Hey, Vis!”

He did his best wave back, which came out as an awkward, stiff hand movement, “Hello, Y/n.”

You smiled and continued on your way, knowing full well that he could handle himself.

You weaved through the buildings and rubble before coming face to face with the blonde god.

“Hey there, Thor!” You called up to his tall figure.

He looked down at you with a beaming grin, “Hello, Lady Y/n! How are you doing this evening?” His voice boomed and echoed through the street.

You laughed at how casual he made the question sound, “I’m doing okay, all things considered. Thanks, Thor.”

His head suddenly turned to something behind you, “Duck, Lady Y/n.”

You did as you were told without question, just in the nick of time too, because Thor swung his hammer as hard as he could right where your head had been just a second ago, as a robot was trying to sneak up on you.

You quickly jumped up right afterwards, “Thanks, Thor.”

He grinned in return, going back to fighting and you ran off to go find the last member of your team.

It wasn’t very hard to find Hulk, “Hey, big guy!” You called up to him as he was whipping around, ready to fight any robots that came his way.

As his head snapped down to face you, no fear was felt coursing through your body as it normally was for people who stood in front of the green creature, you knew he would never hurt you.

He grunted at you in return, a sign you knew to be a hello.

“How’s it going up there?” You continued yelling over the noise.

Again came a grunt and then a curt head nod.

You sensed a robot behind you and quickly turned around to hit it out of the air, when a large green hand came down and knocked it with full force into the closest wall.

You stood there for a moment, blinking, before turning with a grin, “Thanks!”

Another grunt and nod.

You turned and began running again, looking for anyone who needed help.

After about three minutes of running, the same unsettling feeling took place in your gut just like it had earlier.

Something was wrong.

You were now invisible and you weaved at a full blown sprint through the buildings, not knowing where you were going, just following where your instincts told you to go, praying that you weren’t too late for whatever was happening.

As soon as you came to a clearing you stopped and sucked in a sharp breath. What you saw horrified you to no end.

Clint had a kid in his arms, using his own body to try and shield the younger one from any harm. A robot was a couple feet behind them, in the air, ready to shoot at them.

Your eyes wandered over to Pietro, and you knew what he was going to do before he did it.

And you would not let that happen.

Still invisible, you ran to where you knew you needed to go, and you shockingly got there right before Pietro did.

The gunshots rang out.

Clint and Pietro both had their backs tense, waiting for a painful impact that never came.

Slowly, Pietro peeled his eyes opened and he turned around as if in slow motion, Clint did the same, the kid still securely tucked in his arms.

The sight in front of the men made both of their eyes widen.

You were slowly turning visible, blood seeping through your clothes in multiple different spots.

Your eyes were wide as you looked down at your stomach, putting a hand on it and wincing, pulling it away and examining your now blood soaked hand.

You looked up with slight surprise, as if seeing Pietro and Clint for the first time, managing a painful smile at them, that even then looked reassuring and kind.

“Hey guys.” You said breathlessly, before falling forward, doing nothing to try and brace yourself for the impact of the ground.

Pietro was the first one to come out of his shock, he unfroze and ran over to you faster than his powers should have allowed.

“No,” he whispered, kneeling down beside you, “No, no, no, no, no, no!” He pulled your body against his, rocking it back and forth, “It was supposed to be me!” He sobbed, “Me! Not you!”

Clint had put the kid down and absentmindedly told the kid where to go, who took off running in that direction, and heavily fell to his knees, putting a hand on Pietro’s shaking form.

“Wake up!” He continued to sob, refusing to believe that he had just lost his best friend.

By then, the others had caught wind that something was wrong, and all came rushing to see what had happened.

Wanda was the first to reach them, and fell against the side of a building with a gasp and sob.

Steve was next, he came up behind Clint and seemed frozen, unsure of what to do.

Then came Nat, her hands automatically went to her hair and she pulled on it, tears slipping down her face almost automatically, “Damn it.” She whispered.

Vision suddenly appeared frowning slightly at the sight in front of him.

Thor flew down from above, a big grin on his face, not yet sure what was happening, “My friends! What is the meaning of-“ He cut himself off as he caught sight of you, still in Pietro’s arms, his eyes quickly went wide.

The Hulk came next, he took one look at you and let out a deafening roar before taking off running in the opposite direction, but no one seemed to have the energy to notice or care.

Last one to come was Tony, flying in just as Thor had done a moment before, and immediately dropped to his knees next to you.

“Scan vitals.” Tony told his AI.

“Sir, she is gone-“ it tired to tell him.

“Don’t give me that shit!” Tony screamed, “Scan her vitals and tell me how the hell I can save her!”

“Tony,” Steve said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “She’s gone.”

“No,” Pietro continued to sob, “No!”

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #platonic avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers x platonic reader #wanda and pietro #tony stark #steve rogers #vision #the hulk #bruce banner #clint barton #natasha romanoff #mcu x reader #mcu #marvel

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upat4amwiththemoon · 3 years

Text

The Scary People Next Door part 3

Summary: Two women move to the neighborhood, it seems like there’s more to them than meets the eye.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: nightmare (let me know if there are any!)

Word count: 2299

a/n: Finally a new part! Hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated :)

Tags: @madamevirgo @fishlikestuff @hi-i-1 @d14n4ol @simpforwandanat @diaryoflife @emilyprentissslut @idek-5

Y/N declines Darcy’s call for the fifth time in the span of an hour. She has been trying to call her the whole day, even Monica called her a few times, but Y/N hasn’t answered to any of them. She knew Darcy would eventually end up knocking on her door and possibly breaking in with the help of Monica’s tech if she didn’t answer soon. She couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone and talk to Darcy, yesterday’s events still clear in her head.

Groaning, Y/N plays a voicemail Darcy just left her. “Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you right now, but I don’t appreciate you ignoring me. So, you better answer my next call or I’m coming over with Monica. And if you even think about not opening the door, I’ll call Jane and drag her here to drag your ass out of the bed!” The voicemail ends.

Jane Foster, Y/N and Darcy’s best friend, who neither of them have seen in years. Y/N met her and Erik Selvig through Darcy while she was helping with Jane’s astronomy research for college credit. Y/N decided to tag along and help as much as possible. They became close, and still are to a certain extent, but things happen. Darcy had to leave to finish college and become an astrophysicist, Jane got a new job at S.H.I.E.L.D and Y/N had to find an actual job that is in her skill set rather than being strung along with different doctors.

Jane was always known to be a bit bossy. It wasn’t always a bad thing, she needed to be bossy as a woman in that field of work to be heard and taken seriously. For Y/N that meant doing things that she didn’t want to do, like getting a job. If it wasn’t for Jane, she'd most likely still follow Darcy around like a lost puppy, which isn’t necessarily a good thing. She is very grateful for Jane pushing her into getting a job. That being said, she knows Jane would come over and make her spit out everything if Darcy did call her.

Her phone goes off. Y/N rubs her eyes frustratedly before picking up the phone and answering it. “Hi.”

“Hi? You ignore my calls the whole day and all you say is hi?”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N sighs. “I really just don’t feel like talking today.” She mumbles while laying in her bed. She has been laying on her bed the whole day, only getting up to go to the bathroom and get something to drink. She tried to convince herself that yesterday didn’t affect her, but it did, a lot more than she’d like to admit.

”That’s usually the time you need to talk to people the most.”

She did need someone to talk to. The feeling of rambling everything she feels to Darcy was strong, but the guilt of making her problems Darcy’s problems was bigger.

“I’m just tired, nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Would you like me and Monica to come over?”

Y/N bites her tongue, Darcy’s words bringing her close to tears. The damned question: Are you okay? That one question makes her want to spill out her guts instantly. “No, I’d rather be alone.”

Darcy mumbles something that Y/N can’t hear, probably to Monica. They have a silent conversation while Y/N waits for Darcy to answer her. “We’ll come over tomorrow.”

Knowing Darcy wasn’t asking her whether or not that’s okay, Y/N just hums in confirmation before saying her goodbyes and hanging up the phone. After throwing her phone somewhere to the table, she closes her eyes, ready to fall asleep.

“Hello!” She yells to the abyss, her voice echoing through the never ending emptiness. “Anyone there?” When Y/N’s only answer is her own voice bouncing back to her, she starts walking. At least she thinks she is walking. The space she’s in is pitch black, so Y/N wasn’t sure if she was moving anywhere.

Suddenly she starts falling. Y/N screams as her body flies down with no signs of stopping. She desperately tries to hold on to something, anything to stop her from falling, but to no avail. There’s nothing around her to grasp onto, only darkness and quiet apart from her screams.

A punch to the face changes her scenery. She groans, trying to lift her hand up to her face but gasping when she isn’t able to. Y/N’s eyes snap open in panic. She looks at her surroundings, noticing it’s the same room she was in not too long ago. However, now it was just a little more unsettling. She didn’t know what it was that made her feel so different from the real thing, nothing was visibly wrong. It just felt bad. Perhaps it was because she knew she was in a dream and she had gone through this already.

“Pay attention!” A very distorted voice shouts, punching Y/N to the face once again. She lifts up her head. The what’s supposed to be one of the men that hurt her definitely didn’t look like one. Its whole body was blurry and it moved to every direction. Its voice sounded like someone spoke through a broken megaphone, the voice cracking every now and then.

“What the fuck are you?” Y/N’s voice was a mere whisper compared to the creature.

The thing doesn’t answer, simply smirks, or at least it looks like a smirk. It starts walking around her, glitching when it takes a step forward. As it stops behind the chair, it sets a hand on top of Y/N’s head. She screams, all the pain she felt during that day going through her body in seconds.

Y/N screams as she sits up and looks around her, hands swatting away any remaining feelings of the thing. Her room is darker now, the clock being almost 11 pm. She stands up, runs downstairs and out the front door. This most likely isn’t the best idea, but Wanda did ask her if she wanted to stay at their place. If the question was genuine or not wasn’t clear to Y/N, but right now she’d like to think Wanda meant it.

She didn’t even know why Wanda and Natasha’s house was the first place she thought of. Maybe it was because she felt weirdly comforted by Wanda’s presence, or because they simply were the only people who know what happened.

Knocking on their front door, Y/N starts doubting herself. She almost turns around and leaves, but Wanda opens the door before she can.

“Hey, are you okay?” Wanda’s concern fills her ears. And so the waterworks start. Wanda gasps lightly, pulling Y/N into her arms as she sobs. She whispers sweet nothings to her ear while guiding her inside to sit on the couch. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Y/N leans more into Wanda, putting her head on Wanda’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She mumbles. “I couldn’t sleep, I just can’t be alone.” She sniffles, backing away from the hug as she tries to stop crying.

“That’s okay.” Wanda has a gentle smile on her face that melts Y/N inside.

The feeling makes her question everything. Why is she feeling this way? She met Wanda only a week ago. These kinds of feelings weren’t supposed to awaken so soon.

“What’s going on here?” Natasha, who neither of the two noticed coming in, asks.

Y/N looks down, letting Wanda take control of the situation. “She’s staying the night.” She says as if it was obvious, which makes Y/N frown. It wasn’t her plan to stay the whole night, not wanting to bother the two, but she isn’t opposed to the idea.

“Only if that’s okay.” Y/N adds, lifting her head to look at Natasha, who only glances at her before turning to Wanda. They seem to have a silent conversation going on. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing for Y/N if they were talking telepathically, knowing Wanda did have some kind of powers.

Her eyes widen. Is she able to read minds? Has she ever read her mind?

Wanda pulls Y/N up from the couch, bringing her back to the present. “Come on. You seem tired.” She leads her upstairs to her room. “You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the floor.”

“What? No, I can’t let you do that.”

Wanda smiles, taking Y/N’s hands to her own. “You’re my guest.”

Y/N stares at Wanda’s green eyes, finding herself mesmerised by them. They are beautiful, she could look at them all day. It feels like Y/N is transferred into a whole new world as she feels herself falling deeper into her gaze. Soon she starts relaxing her muscles, Wanda’s gentle smile and sparkling eyes bringing her comfort. Y/N glances at her lips, wondering if they are as soft as they look. Judging by Wanda’s widening grin, she is listening to her thoughts. Y/N averts her eyes back to Wanda’s.

“Go ahead.” Wanda says with a playful tint in her voice. Y/N frowns, making Wanda giggle. “Ask what you want to ask. I don’t mind”

She blushes, trying to drop her head down to look at the floor, but Wanda’s hand on her chin stops her. Wanda knowing what she wanted should have scared her more than it did, but right now she didn’t care.

Y/N gives Wanda a shy smile. “Can I kiss you?” She whispers. If Wanda hadn’t been so close to her, she would’ve missed it. When Wanda nods, Y/N pulls her closer and kisses her. Wanda sets her hands on Y/N’s waist, while her hands travel through Wanda’s hair.

Wanda pulls back, tightening her grasp on Y/N’s hips. Her eyes are a darker shade of green as she kisses Y/N again and again.

For the next two weeks Wanda and Y/N take it publicly slow, hiding whatever they have going on from their friends. Of course, Natasha being a literal spy, she caught on pretty quick. Not that the couple were that good at hiding it. Wanda spent a lot more time at Y/N’s house, sometimes even nights. Natasha wasn’t mad per se, Wanda was so much happier now, but she was hesitant. Dating someone outside of their field of job always proved to be difficult, no matter how many times one of them tried to have a successful relationship. It always failed one way or another.

Wanda didn’t want to think about that. She had heard a lot of dating horror stories from the other Avengers, but she knew she could make it work. She just needed to be careful and choose the best approach of telling Y/N what she really did. She already knew she had magic, that’s one difficult conversation out of the way, and she knew Wanda’s job is something dangerous because of the kidnapping. Not the way Wanda would’ve wanted Y/N to find out, but it’ll make the actual telling easier.

“I’m going to check up on Y/N!” Wanda tells Natasha as she opens the door. She had different excuses to tell Natasha. Checking up on Y/N, helping her cook or fix something, comforting her through hard times and so on. Sometimes they were true. Wanda did help Y/N during a nightmare or a difficult day many times after the unfortunate event.

Natasha hums, her eyes never leaving the television. “Make sure to check her neck better this time, it had quite many bruises on it last time.” Her voice was completely monotone, but she had the tiniest smirk on her face.

Wanda freezes, almost dropping the piece of cake in her hand. “I’m sorry?” She squeaks out.

“I’m just saying.” Natasha turns to look at Wanda. “You two are doing an awful job hiding the signs.”

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so someone else must’ve done them. Or perhaps a mosquito, hair straightener, a match... I know all the tricks, Wanda.”

Wanda closes the door, sighing. “Fine, you’re right. What now?”

“That’s not up to me, it’s your call. Just be careful. These kinds of pairings don’t usually last.” Natasha didn’t want to be so pessimistic of their relationship, she has actually started liking Y/N, not that she’d ever let either of them know. She still wanted Wanda to know the hardships these kinds of situations brought into their lives. “Besides, we can’t live here forever, the mission is almost over, then we go back.”

“I know, Nat, I do. I’m not letting that stop me though, because I really want this to work.”

Natasha nods with a smile. “Then I’m rooting for you two.”

“Thank you.” Wanda’s smile returns to her face as she opens the door again. “Now, I’m going to go and spend some quality time with Y/N, don’t wait up.” She steps outside and closes the door, not waiting for Natasha’s answer. It would’ve been something witty.

Wanda knocks on Y/N’s door, feeling nervous. Natasha was right. Soon they’d have to go back to the Avengers compound and she couldn’t see Y/N whenever she wanted. It also meant going back to no contact missions. They could last months. Wanda didn’t want to disappear for months with Y/N having no way of knowing whether she was okay or not.

Y/N opens the door, but not with the excited look Wanda was waiting for. Her brows were furrowed and she looked almost angry. “Why didn’t you tell me you are an Avenger?”

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanoff #the black widow #darcy lewis x monica rambeau #darcy lewis #monica rambeau #jane foster #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel

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hiiraya · 3 years

Text

didn’t know what i had (rewrite)

masterlist

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

words: ~3,216

warnings: angst, break-up (pls lemme know if there's anything else i should add!)

requested: nope :p

a/n: this is my one and only nat series (because i suck at writing series, and continuity - bad memory gang represent - in general) but pls lemme know what y'all think! (also i think i got a little carried away bc this used to be 2k+ words and now it's 3k+ words)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

“Marry me?”

Despite your voice shaking from the nervousness running through your veins, you stayed hopeful, looking up at Natasha from where you were kneeling on the ground, almost dropping the velvet box in your hand from how anxious you felt.

“…what?”

"Uh-, w-will you marry me?”

You can already feel the dread starting to settle in your stomach when she takes your hands and pulls you to your feet.

She doesn't meet your eyes when she lets go of your hands, looking at everywhere else but you.

“Y/N… I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you.”

It felt like the universe was mocking you ever since Natasha said no to your proposal 4 months ago.

Neither of you had told anyone on the team that you had tried to ask her to marry her and you preferred it to stay that way.

Tony and Pepper went and got married (which of course, you were elated about, you'd been rooting for them from the very beginning), and then what seemed like only a few months after that Wanda and Vision decided to tie the knot too.

Being their close friends, of course, you and Natasha were invited to both of the ceremonies.

You were happy for your friends (how could you not be?), but you couldn’t help but feel like you were missing out.

Sure, you two were still together, but compared to before where you would always be attached at the hip, it was like the two of you suddenly became polar opposites. Whenever the newlywed couples were in either of your vicinities, you found yourself actively trying to avoid your girlfriend and vice versa.

No one but the two of you knew the reason why.

"I just want to know why, Nat."

You hadn't meant to bring up the topic of marriage again, but Tony decided to call you and Nat out on why you hadn’t gotten married yet.

To put it in his words, “you guys have been together for what, almost six years now? You're already practically married at this point!”

And even though you respected her decision to say no, there was always a tiny part of you that wanted to know the reason as to why she said no in the first place.

"I'm just not ready and you know this, Y/N," she sighs, shaking her head.

It was always like this now; constant sighing, the cold shoulders, the both of you getting irritated with the other that lead to yelling and arguing about the tiniest things.

"Marriage isn't in the cards for me; a family isn't in the cards for me. I’m sorry if it is for you, but I can’t give you that.”

You should’ve know better than to expect more of an explanation from her. In fact, you were surprised that she even said that much considering she found every excuse to leave the room when any of your friends even so much as hinted at the topic of marriage.

Your shoulders sag at her answer, but you nod anyways.

“You’re right, that's my bad," you mutter, "I'm sorry for bringing it up again.”

You're too lost in your head as you leave the room to see the wary glance Natasha sends your way.

“It's like we're walking on eggshells, Wanda. We’re acting like we don’t even know each other anymore.”

Natasha didn’t mean to eavesdrop in on your conversation with Wanda. Clearly you thought it was only you and Wanda in the living room, especially because everyone else had announced that they were doing their own things for the day.

“Asking her to marry me was a stupid idea," she hears you sigh, "I should’ve just kept my stupid mouth shut.”

A sigh is heard all the way from where she was hiding in the kitchen, knowing that the younger girl was most likely frowning at your words.

Wanda could feel the regret and uncertainty emanating from you as you sat next to her, your thoughts practically screaming at her for her to take a peak inside your mind.

(Wanda didn’t mention to you that she could hear someone else’s thoughts just a room away.)

You’d never spoken to Natasha about how you felt (granted, she didn’t talk to you about how she felt either), and she couldn’t help but agree with your words from earlier.

You two were walking on eggshells; you rarely spoke to one another ever since she said no to your proposal, the air becoming tense and awkward whenever the two of you were in the same room.

As much as you tried to show just how much it didn't affect you, she could see it in the way your mannerisms changed, the jokes you used to share with her slowly coming to an end, like you were back to being strangers all of a sudden.

“Please don't say that, Y/N/N. You’re not stupid, asking her wasn't stupid, you didn't know that she was going to say no.”

Judging from the lack of response from you, Nat took that as the end of your conversation.

Taking a peak from her spot, she saw you sitting beside Wanda, looking visibly troubled.

Deciding not to violate your privacy any longer than she already had, she starts to walk back to her room. It’s the defeated tone in your voice when you speak up that stops her in her tracks.

“Why doesn’t she want to be my wife?”

Arguing seemed to be the norm nowadays whenever you two were alone together.

“So, you’re talking to Wanda about our problems now?”

She came back to the living room after hearing Wanda leave, promising that she would be back later with food, leaving you sitting alone on the couch with your thoughts.

“What are you talking about, Nat?”

She watches you sag further into the cushions while she walks over to you, standing over you with her arms crossed over her chest.

“‘It's like we're walking on eggshells, Wanda. We’re acting like we don’t even know each other anymore.’”

She parrots your words from before and watches the realisation fall on your face when you realise that she heard your conversation with Wanda.

“What do you want me to say, Nat?" You frown. "We are walking on eggshells, and whenever we’re alone we just end up arguing. We keep going in circles, and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Then don’t do anything," She bites back, "clearly we’re going nowhere.”

It’s not the right words to say and she knows it, but she was just as tired of the fighting as you were.

“What do you mean 'we're going nowhere'?”

Was she really willing to throw away the a six-year relationship she shared with you?

"I'm done talking with you."

She's deflecting and you both know it, but before she can say anything else you scoff, something she's noticed you doing more often whenever she was around.

“Well you don't have to worry about that," You retort. "You don’t ever have to talk to me anymore about anything, Natalia.”

She can't explain the way her heart drops to her stomach, the feeling like she's just lost something inherently important to her as she watches you walk away from her.

As cliché as it sounded, you wanted to run away from everything. Well, more specifically someone.

So you did just that.

“Are you sure that you want to join me on this, Y/N?" Maria asks you for the nth time in the past 10 minutes. "I don’t even know when we’ll be back.”

You liked the think that it was the universe trying to make it up to you for all the shit it's put you through in the last months when caught Maria leaving Fury’s office, asking her if there were any missions that you could tag along to.

Luckily for you, she was leaving for a recon mission and you jumped at the chance to leave with her.

Maria hadn’t heard about what happened between you and Natasha, everyone but Wanda had still yet to find out, and frankly you’d wanted to delay telling her for as long as you could.

The less questions asked the better.

You’d leave it to Natasha to explain your sudden absence to your friends. Or not. You really couldn't care less at this point.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Agent Hill.”

Maria looked like she wanted to say more but decided against it. After all, you two had been friends for years, and working with you as closely she did, she could easily read you like an open book.

Which meant she knew when to call you out and when to drop the conversation.

“Pack a bag then," She nods. We leave tonight.”

“They’re back.”

Clint looks across the room to where you were standing with Wanda and Maria, watching you smile as you caught up with the younger girl.

You and Maria had just arrived back from your recon mission which had taken longer than expected, with what was supposed to be a six month mission became twice as long (not that you were complaining, it gave you more time to heal and recover from your heartbreak) because of an issue with the intel.

“I heard that they got back this morning.” He tells Natasha, pausing to look at her. “How’re you feeling?”

Giving him half-hearted shrug she looks at him, subconsciously moving away from your view. If Clint catches on to what she was doing, he doesn’t call her out on it, instead moving to stand in front of her to block her view of you.

“The last thing I said to Y/N was that I was done talking with them. I didn't expect them to stay, but I didn't expect them to leave without a word.”

The older of the two sighs as he glances back at you briefly.

"Sometimes you tell someone that you're done, that you never want to talk to them ever again, but then the phone rings and there's a part of you that hopes that it's them. It's the most twisted logic of all time."

Clint doesn’t miss the way Natasha keeps looking over his shoulder, right where he knew you were standing, almost as if she was holding herself back from walking over to where you were.

There were so many things she wanted to tell you, but a year of distance and silence was too long, and she didn’t want to risk getting shut down the moment she had a moment alone with you. She didn't want to have to watch you walk away again.

“You should talk to Y/N.”

Clint gives her a reassuring smile, squeezing her shoulder before excusing himself to head down to the training room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

“I don’t understand why you and Clint want me to talk to Y/N so badly, Wanda.”

The witch throws her head back in slight frustration before meeting the redhead’s eyes once again.

“You’ve been ignoring Y/N ever since they got back, and don’t even try to lie to me about it." Wanda frowned at her friend. "From what you’ve told me in the past, Nat, you want to talk to Y/N. You know you do.”

After finding the normally stoic woman crying in the training room months after your departure, Wanda was the first person Natasha opened up to about her feelings, just like you had.

Since Wanda was close to you as well, she'd heard the story from both sides and acted as the mediator between you two.

Seeing as the older girl was still apprehensive, Wanda took it upon herself to speak up again.

The younger girl speaks to her in a motherly tone, looking at her friend with sympathetic smile. ”Sometimes all you need is 20 seconds, Nat. 20 seconds of insane courage to tell Y/N/N what’s been on your mind for the past year."

"Wanda, they probably don't want to talk to me."

Shaking her head, Wanda puts her hands comfortingly on Nat’s shoulders.

"Not talking to each other is what caused this in the first place. You don't know that they don't want to talk to you." She reasons. "And you also don’t want to regret not saying anything at all either, we don’t know the next time they’ll be back.”

Giving her friend’s shoulders a gentle squeeze, she waits until their eyes meet once more to speak again.

"Just-, think about it, okay? I heard that they’re getting ready to leave again soon.”

“I’ll leave you two to talk.”

The air is tense after Maria exits the room, telling you that she’ll be back to get you when it’s time to leave and Natasha watches your gaze turn to the ground for a moment before clearing your throat.

“So, if there's nothing here to talk about, I still need to pa-"

“Wait, Y/N.” She interrupts before you could finish, knowing that once you found a reason to leave, there was no way she would get another moment alone with you.

You sigh as you look at her, and Natasha can see just how uneasy you are being in the same room as her after such a long time. After all, last time didn't end too well.

It wasn’t like you were trying to avoid her (though the same couldn’t be said about her actively trying to avoid you like the plague ever since she saw that you and Maria were back), but she knew why you didn’t go out of your way to come talk to her.

"The first time you proposed-"

“Nat, do-"

"Just let me say this," She pleads. "Please."

She’s had a lot of time to think in the past year, had a lot of time figure out what she wanted and what she really needed. No matter where she started or what she thought about, everything always led back to you.

You tried so hard to hold onto the threads that was holding your relationship together while she was all but ready to throw in the towel the moment it got too much.

Natasha's never regretted anything so much in her life before.

"The first time you proposed," She starts again. "I said no because I thought I wasn't ready and that I didn’t want to get married. And I spent a really long time regretting saying no to you."

Judging by the look on your face while she was talking, she could tell that you would rather not relive the memories of her rejecting your proposal.

“But then everyone around us was getting married; Tony and Pepper, Wanda and Vision. I could see how much you wanted what they had, even though you always told them that you were happy with the way we were.

"They all seemed to happy, it made me think that maybe getting married wasn’t the worst thing in the world, even if I kept saying that I wasn't ready, that it wasn't in the cards for me. And even though I was being so adamant about my choice, I kept hoping, kept wondering if you would ever ask me to marry you again.”

She gages your reaction to her words, seeing that familiar furrow in your brow that she always used to kiss away whenever you were feeling frustrated or confused.

"But it never came."

She knew that it wasn't fair put all the blame on you, she was just as equally guilty - she knew she pulled back and distanced herself from you after you proposed to her. It was never in her intention to cause a strain between the two of you but that’s exactly what ended up happening.

"I wasn't going to push you into something you didn’t want, Nat.”

You’d been quiet ever since Nat started her spiel, so hearing your voice break the silence startled her. You spoke to her in a soft tone - you were never one to raise your voice, only this time you sounded too tired and defeated, like you’d been hurt for so long that nothing really affected you anymore.

“Y/N-“

“I should’ve known that you didn’t want to get married. It was stupid of me to just assume that you would say yes. I guess I just didn’t enough pay attention to realise that marriage wasn't in the cards for you, and I should have. So, I didn’t ask you again after that.”

It wasn’t stupid, Y/N. You’re not stupid for wanting things too.

She could only stare at you, letting you say your piece and unknowingly giving you the power to make or break her with what you had to say next.

“I asked you and you said no, all of a sudden our friends were getting married too. I wanted that, but I would never force you to marry me just because I wanted it. Whatever you were willing to give, I would've gladly accepted. But then one thing led to another, and the next thing I knew we weren’t talking to each other anymore. Whenever we did, we were always arguing. It got to the point where we were just going in circles.”

You were still talking in that soft tone, the timbre of your voice would have been calming to Natasha had it not been for the words coming out of your mouth. It seemed to her that the more you talked, the more exhausted you looked, like discussing this with her was draining you of your energy.

"You told me you were done talking to me. The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to make you happy, Nat, and if me leaving made you breathe a little easier and relax a little more, then I made the right choice. I didn’t want to make things any harder for you, for us, or for anyone.”

It’s breaking her heart all over again to hear you say those words, as if you thought that you didn’t mean everything to her. You’ve always been too good for her, and she was lucky enough that you shared six years of your life with her.

She could’ve spent more if she just didn’t fuck everything up.

Tears stung her eyes at the thought of not having you in her life, in her future, unwilling to even entertain the thought of seeing you with someone else.

“I was so focused on myself that I didn’t even think about what you were feeling, how this affected you. You were hurting too, yet you were trying to make things work, and I didn’t even bother to talk to you. I told you that I was done, Y/N, but the last thing I wanted was for you to leave.”

She paused as you ran your fingers through your hair before rubbing your eyes, taking the chance to gather her thoughts.

“I let the best thing that ever happened to me go.”

She didn’t even know if you still felt the same like she did for you, but if what Wanda had told her meant anything, she knew she had to try.

“What are you trying to say, Nat?”

“Please give me another chance.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #avengers x reader #black widow imagine #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #myfics.txt #i really got carried away with this #whoops #happy reading my loves

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9tzuyu · 3 years

Text

children of tragedy [pt.2]

note: hi. i totally did not mean for this to be a filler chapter but thats what it ended up being :(. i hope you guys still like it though. this is mostly natasha x reader (platonic), so maybe that’ll make up for it? lmk your thoughts!

mistakes are mine as always.

warnings: talk of alcohol abuse

pt. 1 | pt.3

🏷 @peggycarter-steverogers @blackxwidowsxwife (tagged since its nat centric)

when you left in the middle of the night while wanda slept in the other room. you didn’t bother waking her to say your goodbyes, instead wanting things to be quick and simple. telling wanda goodbye would only prolong that process.

you did, however, leave one last sticky note on the kitchen table for her to see when she woke up. it was nothing over the top, just a reminder to make sure she ate and took care of herself.

(and of course your signature smiley face at the bottom of the paper. she loved your odd little version of a smiley face.)

you packed a bag separate from everything wanda put together and stuffed it to the brim with bare necessities. clothes were replaceable. what you had with wanda was not. besides, she probably wouldn’t mind keeping a few of your sweatshirts. they were always her favorite.

rummaging in the side pockets of your jacket you found the last twenty dollar bill you had and used it to catch the next bus across town.

in all honesty you would’ve texted natasha to tell her you were on your way, but your phone had been dead for three days and you didn’t bother charging it after last night’s conversation. natasha wouldn’t mind though, you’ve been friends with her for over seventeen years. she was the only person who knew about your upbringing and all the abusive relationships between. she’d been there countless times to pick you up from the hospital your exes put you in, never once blaming you for what happened.

similarly to wanda, natasha never judged you for your decisions or ways of coping. she worried just as much as wanda did, but knowing you hated having to talk about things she kept silent. there were only a handful of times natasha could think of where you talked to her about what happened.

with a deep breath in, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and stepped off the bus. the walk to natasha’s house from your drop off area was only about fifteen minutes, but within that short amount of time you managed to get worked up over wanda. your thoughts were so loud that by the time you made it to natasha’s door step you had tears streaming down your face, your nose red from wiping it with the sleeve of your jacket.

natasha was quick to answer, but she hadn’t expected you of all people to be standing right in front of her. snapping herself out of shock, she pulled you in for a hug before moving back to check you for any signs of bruising.

there were a few, but they were fading nicely against your skin. and the cuts she found looked like they had been treated with care, which only confused the redhead. she hadn’t heard from you in over eight months, so it wasn’t surprising that she missed out on hearing about wanda.

what a shame, you thought to yourself. she would’ve loved her.

natasha closed the door behind you and brought you over to her sofa. you laughed remembering that you were in this very same position last night; although it wasn’t like natasha could break up with you or anything of the sort.

“stay here, i’ll be right back.”

you glanced at the clock on natasha’s wall seeing that it was three in the morning.

it was only when natasha came back when you noticed her disheveled hair and chapped lips. it was clear she was sleeping prior to you knocking on her door. she immediately noticed the guilty look on your face and quickly went to stop you from overthinking.

“none of that now, i don’t care at all that you woke me up at three in the morning. i haven’t seen you in over eight months, i’d be angry with myself if i hadn’t heard you knocking.” unsure how to reply, you nodded solemnly.

she smiled, “are you hungry?” you licked your lips, food hadn’t crossed your mind in hours. “very.”

you followed her to the kitchen where she brought out a can of soup and set it to cook on the stove.

“i don’t have much, i keep forgetting to go to the store.” she shrugged, leaning against the counter top.

“s’okay.”

you awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, arms folded as you stared off into space. natasha took this opportunity to really get a look at you.

she could see the outlining of a bruise on the side of your cheek, and judging by the size, you had to have taken a pretty bad hit. there were also a few bruises around your neck as if someone had tried to choke you.

she bit her lip, wincing internally at the thought of you getting choked so violently that it left marks as dark as the nail polish natasha once used as a teenager. it hurt her even worse knowing that this person was supposed to love you.

you caught natasha’s gaze and shifted yourself further away from her. she tried not to frown, but you saw the slight downward movement of her eyebrows before she had a chance to look unbothered.

“the soup, tasha. it’s going to burn.” you reminded her.

“ah!”

she stirred the liquid content with a spoon and brought it to her mouth. “just right.” you watched her pour a safe amount into a bowl before giving you a spoon she hadn’t wrapped her lips around.

“lets go sit down so you can eat, yeah?”

you followed her like a lost little kid back into the living room. if it hadn’t been for such serious issues at hand, natasha would’ve commented on how adorable you looked clutching the bowl with two hands while you unconsciously bit the insides of your cheeks because you were scared of breaking something.

she gave you time to finish eating. you ate slower than she remembered, but she didn’t think too much of it. the last bite was when natasha when noticed the large scar across your hand.

(god did she hate herself for not seeing it sooner because what the hell?)

you moved to go put the dish in the sink, but natasha stopped you, gently grabbing the scarred hand to keep you from leaving.

“don’t worry about that right now. set it on the coffee table and i’‘ll take care of it when we’re done here.” her voice was soft enough for you to feel safe, an affect only one other person could do.

natasha didn’t say anything else, she wanted you to feel in control, to feel comfortable enough to talk about it.

the crack of your knuckles could be heard after a few short seconds of silence. there was no reason for you to feel so nervous. it was just natasha after all. she would never hurt you.

(you were brave. you were okay. you can do this.)

“she was so good to me, nat.” the redhead scoffed, but you were quick to defend your now presumed ex.

“she was! this time i really mean it, and i know that sounds redundant but i would put the love i have for you as a friend, as a sister, on the line.” she seemed to believe you after that. the look in your eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“what happened?”

your lip started to quiver, “i ruined it.” natasha moved closer to you, wrapping her arms around you so that your body rest against hers. “how’s that?”

“i can’t stop drinking, couldn’t, and she had to do the right thing for herself.” her grip tightened around your frame. she hated not knowing you were drinking again. the first few times weren’t too bad, but she had a feeling this time was more than she could help with.

“she was so good to me, tasha and i ruined it. i fucking ruined every bit of it because i’m too weak to-”

“stop. do not finish that sentence or else i’m going to give you a sisterly lecture for the next three hours about every good thing that makes you who you are.” her threat came off as a joke, but if needed, natasha would actually hold herself to her own word.

you sighed and visibly deflated, natasha allowing the tiniest smile grace her lips from behind you.

“what was her name?” your eyes found their way to natasha’s hands and the rings that clung to the base of her fingers. “wanda.”

“how did she treat you? i mean really treat you.”

you fiddled with her rings, twisting them back and forth absentmindedly, “she used to bandage my wounds with like, five layers of gauze, i swear. i always thought she was just being over dramatic, but sometimes the bleeding would even seep through that.”

your breathing began to slow down. “she would always come when i needed her, whether that be when i blacked out from drinking or if i was sick and needed help taking a bath.”

“she sounds like a good person.”

“she is.”

natasha hummed, “you really scared me, you know?” you moved to try and face her, but she kept her arm wrapped securely around your torso. “i didn’t hear from you in over half a year and now you’re here. you’re my best friend and i thought you were dead.” there was a crack in her voice. god knows she didn’t want you to see her cry.

(that’s why she held you in place, but most of all because she missed having you close.)

“i’m sorry, tasha...”

“just don’t ever do that to me again or i will kill you myself.” you rolled your eyes at her reply. “i’m not, i promise.”

you moved off her lap, turning your body so you were face to face with her. “where do i go from here, nat?”

she thought dor a second, “can you make it through tonight without a drink? or will withdrawls be too bad?”

you paused, surely you hadn’t gotten to the point where withdrawls were as serious as you’d seen in all the medical shows and documentaries. “i think i’ll be good.”

natasha nodded in approval, “do you want help?”

it was the question of the century for you. the answer should be a simple yes, but it never failed to amaze you how much weight could be carried behind a three letter word. there was a chance for you though, something you might not ever get again. and honestly, natasha’s heart couldn’t take another relapse like this. eight months of not knowing if you were alive or not was bad enough, she couldn’t imagine not seeing her dearest friend for the rest of her life.

“yes,” you exasperated, “yes, i wan’t help.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #marvel fanfiction

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thesecretwriter · 3 years

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consume (bruce banner).

Disclaimer: This blog is strictly 18+, minors please do not interact as that is not something I am comfortable with. Thank you!

Pairing: Bruce Banner x female reader

Summary: Bruce and you work together in the lab; you usually tag a long on missions in case they need medical help. Bruce doesn't like this very much but keeps it to himself since he sees how happy it makes you. On one mission you get hurt while trying to help an injured Peter Parker. Bruce goes all hulk.

Warning: Angst? - not really sure, Fluff - we love a soft Bruce, Hulk? - is he considered a warning?, Mild description of an injury, Features some avengers.

Marvel masterlist.

“I feel like this mission is too dangerous for y/n to be going on.” Bruce says to Steve as they all gear up for the mission to take down a HYDRA base.

“She is capable of looking out for herself.” Steve states and grabs his shield getting ready to leave.

The whole time Steve and Bruce are talking, you are with Natasha and Wanda waiting at the quin jet.

“This is the first time I get to come with y’all on a mission that involves a HYDRA base, I always wanted to see what it was like. Steve and Bucky talk about it all the time after a mission.” You say smiling at Natasha.

“I suggest you stay close to whoever you’re assigned to be with, because HYDRA can be unpredictable and dangerous.” Wanda explains as she recalls the time she walked into a bunch of HYDRA agents waiting to take them down.

“I’ll be careful, I hope to be of use on this mission. I don’t just want to stand aside while you all fight or get injured. I work in the lab and medical wing for a reason.” You send a wink to a smiling Natasha who laughs at your little remark.

Your conversation with Natasha and Wanda is cut short once you see Pietro, Steve, Peter, and Bruce walking towards y’all.

You stand up a bit more straight when you see Bruce and a smile automatically makes its way onto your face.

“Are we all ready?” Steve asked looking around at everyone.

Everyone says a yes and walks towards the quin jet.

When Steve offered to take you on this mission, you were beyond excited. Yet you didn’t miss the way Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed and the change in his posture.

He had insisted on accompanying you on it as he said you’d get bored.

This came as a surprise to everyone, usually Bruce insisted on staying at the tower cooped up in the lab working on something.

The jet leaves the tower and soon everyone has settled in to doing their own thing. Bruce however is being particularly quiet and not saying much, which concerns you. He is normally quiet, but you seem to notice the slight change in him.

You walk over to him and sit down beside him, “You doing okay?” the question startles him since he is in deep thought.

“Uh-... yeah I’m okay.” He struggles to say.

You’re not convinced.

“You’re not being honest with me.” You sigh out.

“I know, I’m sorry there’s a lot going through my mind.” He admits with a sad smile.

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask taking his hand in yours.

“How about when we get back to the tower?” He asked with a small smile.

“That’s fine by me.”

The rest of the ride you remain at his side and discuss some stuff about what he has been working on in the lab.

You first realized you had a crush on Bruce when you were both alone in the lab late at night, he was explaining something to you and your mind slowly drifted away from what he was saying and you focused more on him.

There was a spark in his eye as he happily explained things to you. If it was one thing you knew about Bruce, it was that he loves working at the lab, no matter what time it is.

He had a passion for it.

When you finally arrived just outside the HYDRA base, Steve was going through the plan with everyone. You were to stay beside Wanda and Peter. They had an easy task; help any hostages they see escape.

Bruce was visibly not happy when he found out you and him would not be on the same team.

“Y/n, be careful. Please.” He takes your hand in his and gives it a light squeeze.

And so, everyone was off to do their part in the mission. There was time when you, Wanda and Peter would come across HYDRA agents, but you handled it all well. Wanda used her powers, as well as Peter. Thankfully, you had enough training to defend and take down the few agents who came your way.

Everything seemed to be going as planned until Peter had opened the last door down the dark hallway that held some hostages.

He webbed his way down to the last door and saw someone behind it. Y’all had assumed it was another hostage, the person had looked disheveled and in need of help.

That was until the HYDRA agent pulled out a gun and shot at an unprepared Peter. A scream left your mouth catching Wanda’s attention.

She ran your way and saw the commotion, Peter lay unconscious and you were beside him trying to wake him up, completely forgetting about the HYDRA agent behind you.

You could hear Bruce call your name through the ear piece that helped you all communicate.

He shot you around your waist and all you could remember seeing Bruce turn into Hulk as he rushed past Wanda. Steve was behind Bruce looking at you with guilt.

Then everything went black. You just remember hearing Hulk growl, a growl so loud and dangerous that if you were conscious, you’d be scared.

On the ride back to the tower, Bruce refused to let anyone near you. He carried you all the way back to the quin jet. He never spoke a word.

Steve felt guilty for bringing you on this mission. If he listened to Bruce, you wouldn’t be hurt.

Natasha and Wanda also remained quiet, looking towards Bruce and you unconscious in his arms.

Pietro had Peter laid by him, he had also been shot and was unconscious.

Even though the mission was a success, it didn’t feel that way.

The first thing you saw when you woke up was a white room. You look around the room and see that it is the medical wing in the tower, a place you’re familiar with.

It took you a minute before you saw the sleeping figure on the chair beside the bed you were in.

It was Bruce, sleeping with his hand in yours.

A small smile made its way onto your lips. You carefully took your hand out of his and gently ran it through his hair.

He jolted up and looked at you startled for a moment, but then a relieved look made its way to his face.

“Y/n you’re awake... oh my god you’re awake!! I’m going to get the doctor.” Before you could even say anything, he was already of the room.

You let out a sigh and wait for him to return with the doctor. It doesn’t take long for your check up to be done.

The doctor concluded that you had a mild concussion from falling down and your waist was as good as new. They used the same thing Clint was treated for when he was shot.

Bruce was at your side the entire time.

“How’s Peter doing?” You asked concerned.

“He is doing okay. Pretty much the same as you. He woke up a few hours ago.” Your nerves ease a bit and you relax.

“Steve came by earlier and wanted to apologize for what happened.”

“It wasn’t his fault. It was no one’s fault.” You conclude.

Bruce thinks otherwise.

“As soon as we arrived... I took off with him.” He explained.

“It’s okay. I’m fine.” You assure him, by taking his hand in yours.

“It could’ve been worse.” He whispers.

“But it wasn’t.” You squeeze his hand gently and smile at him.

The rest of the time you spend there, Bruce pretty much doesn’t leave your side. He stayed there till you discharged the next day.

This may have been the longest you’ve seen him away from the lab.

Steve had come and apologized, but you assured him that it was no one’s fault. What mattered was that everyone was okay and alive.

A few weeks went by and Bruce and you were closer than ever. It was pretty obvious he had a protective side to you now.

You spent most of your time together in the lab after all.

“So, y/n when did you and Bruce become a thing?” Natasha asked with a knowing smile.

“Don’t be silly. He doesn’t feel that way.” You scoffed and continue to have your morning tea.

What you were unaware of was that Bruce was around the corner and heard everything.

He couldn’t quite understand your words.

Did you feel the same towards him? He thought it was pretty obvious how he felt towards you.

That day he spent working on a plan, and this time it wasn’t something in the lab.

You walked into your room and was about to collapse on your bed when you saw a note lying on it.

“Dear Y/n:

I know it may not seem as though I feel anything like this to you, but nothing can be further from the truth. You always manage to make me feel something that is not being angry,

When I’m around you all I can do is smile and embrace your positivity and the smile that you carry with you wherever you go. I’ve felt this way for quite a while, and I can’t go on anymore without having you know how I feel.

To put it simply, I am in love with you. I may not be very familiar with the aspect of love, but of you feel the same even the slightest bit. Meet me on the roof top.

- Bruce Banner.”

You were at a lose for words and couldn’t believe what you just read.

It was clearly from Bruce; you knew his writing anywhere. You read over the note again and it occurred to you that you needed to go to the roof top immediately.

Of course you felt the same way, but it was a coincident that you receive this note the same day that Natasha asked about you and Bruce.

He must’ve heard you both this morning, you didn’t really see him the whole day and it was really unusual for that to happen.

You pretty much run out of your room and to the elevator. You keep pressing the button that takes you to the roof top.

The whole ride there felt like the longest time you’ve spent in an elevator.

When you finally make it there you rush out before the doors even open and at first you don’t see anything, your heart stops and you think that you’re too late.

Then you suddenly see a figure standing not too far away.

A smile makes its way to your face and you walk to him.

“You came.” He says when you’re close enough to him.

“How could I not.” You smile at him and stand in front of him.

“Bruce, your note... it really touched my heart and it came as such a surprise when I read that you felt the same. For so long I thought you viewed me as a child, or co-worker.” You explain not looking up at him.

“I feel so much for you, that it is scary for me to think of anything happening to you. Whenever you go on those missions, I pray that nothing happens to you...” He trails off and take your hands in his.

“When you were injured, I felt my world come to a stop. I hulk’ed out and as much as I care for you, so does he.” He chuckles at the last bit.

“Well I care for him to, for both of you.” You take a step forward and slowly put your arms around Bruce, he does the same, you feel his lips lay a soft kiss on your forehead and you hug him a little tighter.

You pull away from him when you look behind him and see a blanket spread on the ground with some food atop of it.

“You did all this?” You ask looking at him.

“I planned this the whole day, it’s not the best but it is what I can remember from all the times you talked about your dream date. I got your favorite food and... “ he points towards the sun, “the sunset that you always love seeing.”

Your heart is filled with happy emotions and your tummy is filled with butterflies.

“Oh Bruce, it’s more than perfect. The fact that you remember all of this means so much to me.” You take him by surprise and kiss him.

He immediately returns the kiss. It’s filled with passion and emotion.

“You consume my thoughts.” You whisper to him with a smile.

#bruce banner #bruce banner fanfic #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner angst #bruce banner fluff #bruce banner fandom #bruce banner x you angst #bruce banner x you fluff #bruce banner x reader angst #bruce banner x reader fluff #mcu #marvel #the avengers #avengers #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #fluff

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i-drink-and-i-write-fics · 3 years

Text

Let It Die

Chapter 2: If You Love Me

Summary: Loki makes a plan with Thor to win back Reader’s heart.

Your room had become your personal ice castle. Small frozen ice sculptures were decorating your window sills while a light ring of frost surrounded the window panes. Snow lightly covered your dresser and nightstand while your bed was piled high with thick blankets. Not that you really needed them. As an ice queen once said: the cold never bothered you anyway.

Not that your were like the ice mutant on the X-Men team; you couldn’t turn your whole body into movable ice. But you thrived when the temperature dropped. Which was also a downside. You could never go on missions in desert areas. No moisture in the air meant no powers for you.

When you met Loki, you felt all your dreams came true. You never had to worry about accidentally freezing him in your sleep. And with your mutation, his frost giant skin never harmed you. Not that he showed that form very often.

He had a sweet side to him no one else had seen and could make you feel like the most important person in the world. Loki also had the bad habit of cutting you into pieces, as if dissecting you would help him understand humanity better. All he accomplished was cutting into your self esteem.

You couldn’t understand why you were so upset. It was no secret that he would have outlived you without even trying. There were rumors, whispers that there were ways to make a mortal live as long as an Asgardian - er, frost giant. But since Loki never once brought it up in the two years you had dated, you just assumed there was no truth to them. And you hated the idea of looked so old and worn next to him in 50 years while he looked untouched by time.

There was a gentle knock on the door followed by a familiar voice. “Hey hon. Can we come in? We promise mortals only.”

You smiled and shook your head before opening the door to let Natasha and Wanda in. “Hey guys. Sorry about earlier. I just wasn’t in the mood to look at yet another gift from the dumbass.”

“Don’t worry about it. If anything, it’s been the liveliest we’ve seen you in months!” Wanda sat down on your bed and immediately wrapped a blanket around her. Nat followed suit. Both of their breaths were visible.

“Well, sorry about the temp in here, then.” You chuckled as you sat back down. “I guess I don’t have many guests in here as of late.”

“It’s ok, really. Your comfort is number one right now.” Nat tried to reassure you. “Besides, we were hoping to get you to leave your igloo tonight.”

You laughed again. “Ok, ok. I get it. My powers have been out of control lately. Every time I think I’m back to normal, Loki comes around and fucks it up all over again.”

“Want me to kill him?” Nat asked, deadpanned.

“Thanks, but that won’t help. My problem is I still love the asshole. And I don’t even know why! Yeah, he could be really romantic at times and-“ you paused and gave the girls a side glance, "other reasons as well. I’ll spare you.”

“Thanks,” Nat pretended to gag. “I personally don’t see it, but I also had to battle against him at one time.”

You smirked. “Fair. But man, he could really be a douche at times. I don’t even think he realized he was doing it half the times. I’d do something and instead of being proud, he’d point out what I did wrong. Made me want to punch him in the nuts.”

“So why do you hang on?“ You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I mean no offence, but it seems like there a small part of you that still hangs on. Like I get you still love the guy, but what’s there that’s making you hang on instead of trying to move on?”

You sighed and leaned back into your chair. “Ok, so maybe I do know why I still love him. Loki…. has this side that no one but Thor and I have seen and I wish he would let it out around more people. He has an amazingly kind heart. Yeah, I know, I know.” You held up your had as Nat opened her mouth. “I literally just said the man could be a douche at times. The times he criticized me, it was for things that pertained to our job. I didn’t throw the knife right. My stance is too wide. I breathe too loud, the enemy will hear me. But when it came to everyday life…. he could’t praise me enough. He loved to watch me cook and listen to me sing. Snow days…” you sighed, “those were my favorite. But I wanted his approval for work. How could we work together on a mission when all I could think about was how I wasn’t doing something correctly? And then the mortality thing….”

“It all comes down then to if he can reign in how much he criticizes your work would it be worth it to try again when he’ll just outlive you?”

“Pretty much. But I doubt that will happen. That man likes to think he’s the best when it comes to fighting and war. Just because he’s a freakin’ god.”

Wanda looked over at Nat and nodded her head. “Ok, sweetie. Enough moping! We’re getting your out of here and clearing your head. So get dressed, it’s time for a night out!”

You couldn’t help the smile. “Yeah, maybe that is a good idea. If I clear my head maybe I’ll be able to control my powers better even if I never make a decision about Loki.”

“That’s the spirit!” They left you to change your clothes and you opted for dark black pants, black and silver boots, and a icy blue top.

You met the girls in the common area and Nat had opted for a stunning tight, black dress while Wanda wore a dress the same shade of red as her hair. The three of you piled into a car Nat had hired for the night and headed into town. Wanda picked out a very upscale club and the three of you managed to talked you way in past the bouncer and the incredibly long line. The place was packed but the three of you managed to make your way over to the bar to grab a drink before trying to find a table.

“Man, it’s hella packed in here! Maybe we should have invited Stark so we could abuse the VIP section.” You shouted over the music.

“You rang?”

You whirled around to find Tony at your side. “What are you doing here?”

“Night out, of course! I even brought my own lady.” Pepper looped her arm in his. “Actually, Nat told us what she had planned for tonight and we decided to tag along. We’ve been worried about you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Tony leaned over and kissed your forehead. “Don’t worry about it, kid. We’re all here tonight.”

“We?”

Tony just smirked and held out his other arm. You couldn’t help the grin as you took it so he could lead you across the crowded club. People immediately parted out of the way of your entourage as you made your way to the VIP corner. There a mix of your friends were waiting for you: Sam, Steve, Bucky, Thor, Rhodey, Vision, and Maria.

“Young Mr. Parker sends his regards. He was dying to come here, but I wasn’t about to break the rules to sneak him in.”

“Glad to hear you’re trying to be a good influence on the kid, Stark.”

“I have my moments.”

You climbed into the booth next to Thor while Tony and Rhodey pulled over another set of table and chairs. “So you guys subjected yourself to an overly crowded club just because you were worried about me?”

“Of course, Dear ____!” Thor’s voice easily boomed over the music. “We are your friends and we care about you.”

You looked down at your drink as you spoke to Thor. “And what about your brother?”

“Loki sends his regards if you’ll have them. He acknowledges he has been an ass to you lately.”

A corner of your mouth twitched upwards. “It’s what he does best.”

“If I may, I would like to say something on his behalf.” You took a deep breath but nodded your head yes. “My brother is not the best at expressing his feelings. A trait, I am afraid, he learned from Odin. You do not have to give him a second chance, but I would hope you could at least have one last conversation with him before making your finally decision.”

You took a long gulp of your drink before answering. “Alright, I will. For you, Thor. You’ve always been like a brother to me. If this means so much to you, then I will.”

Thor’s face lit up as he smiled at you. “I was hoping you would say yes. Now we can get to your surprise!”

“My what?”

Before Thor could answer, the DJ’s voice rang out through the speakers. “This next one is a request. Dedicated to the Icy Monarch from the Frost Giant!”

You whipped your head to look at Thor. “Loki’s here?! What’s going on?”

Thor held up one hand. “Just listen, Dear _____.”

The song began to swirl around you:

I cut you into pieces Searching for your imperfections I had plans to make you whole But all my threads couldn’t stop the bleeding There’s nothing left, but I’m not leaving When all I know is you

You’re breath caught in your throat as you listened to the lyrics.

I’ve been looking for a way To bring you back to life And if I could find a way, then I would bring you back tonight I’d make you look, I’d make you lie I’d take the coldness from your eyes But you told me, if you love me Let it die

Your eyes stare right through me Ignoring my failed attempts to Breathe back life into your veins But I can’t start your cold heart beating You’re so far gone, but I’m not leaving When all I know is you

It was like your relationship and the last two months following the break up coming to life in front of your eyes. And then he walked into your line of sight and goddamn, he could always make a suit look good. Black suit, black shirt, a tie as green as his eyes, and a small black box in his hands. Your heart raced as he quietly walked up to you and set the box by your drink. Everyone at the table sat as still as statues, not wanting to disturb the scene in front of them.

You reached for the box and began to open it as the end of the song rang out:

And you left me more dead Than you’ll ever know When you left me alone I’ve been looking for a way To bring you back to life And if I could find a way, then I would bring you back tonight I’d make you look, I’d make you lie I’d take the coldness from your eyes But you told me, if you love me Let it die

Inside the box was a single gold apple. It was the oddest thing Loki had ever given you and you weren’t sure as to what it was. Picking it up, it was instantly clear that the apple was far lighter than you expected and softer as well. As if you could actually eat the golden fruit.

You raised your eyes back up to the Trickster God. “My dear, I have behaved horribly towards you. You loved me more than I ever deserved and I couldn’t even give you what you needed. If it is possible, I would like a second chance to prove I can be worthy of your love. And in exchange, I present the Golden Apple of Idun’s orchard.”

“I’m-I’m sorry. A what?”

“A golden apple. It is to be consumed by a mortal wishing to extend their life. Forgive me, I never brought them up before as I feared you would only want the apple. Not me. No one has ever wanted me for what I was.”

You looked up into his eyes. “I did. In any form you would give me.”

He knelt down by your side. “I know that now and I am a fool for not seeing it sooner. I know it is asking for the world, but I would love to give us a second chance. Because you are my world.”

Your lower lip trembled and you placed the apple back before closing the lid on the box. Loki’s face fell. “I cannot accept this apple.”

“Of course. I understand.” He lowered his eyes.

“Loki, please let me finish.” You placed your hand under his chin and lifted his face so he was looking at you again. “I will not accept this apple at this time. We first need to talk about the problems we have and if it’s possible to fix them. Only after we have gotten our footing back will I eat the apple for you.”

“So…”

“Yes, Loki. I will give us a second chance.”

Loki’s joy was clear on his face and beyond words. He stood up, pulling you with him, so he could engulf you in a hug. “I promise to make myself worthy of this chance. You are my love.”

“And you are my Frost Giant.” You gave him a quick kiss.

#fanfic #fan fic #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #let it die #loki x gn!reader #loki #gn!reader #gender neutral reader

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ginnsbaker · 2 months

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (1/?)

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat. Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.” Or the one where you fall in love with the widow of an ex-lover you never knew was married.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6k+ | Warnings: None for now | A/N: I wrote about 30k words of the Succession Wanda but hit a wall in terms of plot progression. So that's on hold. Allow me to apologize with this two-shot. P.S. I've always wanted to write for Leigh, and this idea came out of nowhere. Loosely based on canon.

Masterlist | Next Part

Leigh wakes up in a bed that’s not hers for the first time in months, and the unfamiliar scent of freshly cut grass and cedarwood almost immediately overwhelms her senses, suffocating her with its cloying sweetness.

“Jules?” she croaks out, her mind clawing its way through the fog. When it lifts a few seconds later, Leigh realizes where she is and what she’s done.

And how she’s very, very naked underneath the sheets.

The person lying next to her in the bed starts to move. Right away, she knows it's not her sister, unless she's somehow caught up in a prank she doesn't find amusing at all. And so, she braces herself for her dead husband’s brother's voice to shatter the silence.

But it never comes. Instead, an arm drapes itself across her stomach, pulling her towards warmth. Leigh gets the sudden urge to vomit, except she skipped dinner and there isn’t anything to bring up. Last night, in a desperate attempt to fill the void left by Matt's absence, she had reached out to someone she shouldn't have. Someone Leigh didn’t even like to begin with. A knot tightens further in her stomach as she considers what her husband’s ghost would think.

Would he approve? Would he feel betrayed or disgusted as she does?

Careful not to disturb Danny, who still sleeps soundly beside her, Leigh slips out of bed with the grace of a cat. She gathers her clothes from the floor and dresses herself with heavy limbs, each garment reminding her of how Danny had taken them off her body.

As messed up as it sounds, Leigh can't help but draw parallels between him and Matt. They share the same blood, but there's not a single trait in Danny that triggers memories of Matt. With Danny, it's all about his own desires, his movements reflecting his wants. But with Matt, it's like he's always bending to Leigh’s will, submitting to her.

It tears Leigh’s heart anew.

As she finishes dressing, Leigh glances around searching for her watch. She second-guesses whether she even wore it last night, the disarray of her thoughts mirrored in the disarray of the room. Her eyes scan the bedside table, the floor, and the dresser, but there's no sign of the timepiece.

A sudden sound from Danny startles her, and she freezes in place. She doesn't believe she can prevent herself from literally bolting out of the house if he so much as breathes her name. She’s rooted in her spot however, waiting for his breathing to steady, her heart pounding in her ears. Only when she's certain he's in a deep slumber does she release a pent-up breath, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. In that moment, she mentally curses herself once more, acutely aware of the mess she's created, before tiptoeing towards the bedroom door and abandoning the search for her watch altogether.

As she considers her options, she entertains the idea of escaping town altogether. Maybe if she leaves, she can avoid Danny for the coming days, possibly forever. Leigh wonders if she ever made Matt feel this trapped, inadvertently pushing him to leave in the only way he knew she could never follow.

Several days after ignoring Danny’s calls and attempts to talk to her, he retaliates by telling her the most absurd thing about his brother.

He tells Leigh she wasn’t the only one. There had been two others in the last year.

And the last one, he fell for hard. Or at least that’s what Danny believes.

“I don’t believe you,” she says, her eyes beginning to sting a little. “If you think making me hate Matt would change my mind about us, then—”

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Leigh,” Danny interrupts calmly, shaking his head. “I just believe you deserve to know the truth. Maybe it'll help you stop blaming yourself and move on.”

“It just seems a little too convenient that this 'truth' works in your favor to tarnish Matt's reputation, doesn't it?” Leigh points out with a humorless smile. She’s always thought the worst of Danny, but she never imagined he’d go as far as fabricating a story just to get her on his side.

“I understand your skepticism, I do. I couldn’t believe it at first either,” he says, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the transgression he’s confessing were his own, not Matt’s. “But think about it. Have you ever walked in on Matt just as he's ending a call? Noticed how he's suddenly started spending more time at work, consistently twice a week? And what about his sudden interest in going to the gym and being conscious about what he eats? These are all signs, Leigh.”

His words push her to think about it, even though she doesn't want to. Leigh starts to reflect on how Matt had stopped leaving his phone unattended during showers, how he had suddenly logged off his social media accounts from her laptop, or the noticeable enhancement of his physique—all juxtaposed against a lingering decrease in his appetite for intimacy with his wife.

“I…” Leigh hesitates, searching for a rebuttal but finding none. Then Danny gives her a look—one of pity and longing that makes her want to crawl out of her skin—and suddenly she finds herself vehemently denying all of it.

“I still don’t believe you,” she says, desperately clinging to the last shreds of the illusion she had crafted around her marriage.

Danny's expression remains unreadable and it drives her further up the wall. “Fine. Believe what you want, Leigh. I'm just trying to look out for you.”

Leigh's jaw tightens. “Regardless of what you say—whether it’s real or not—I know what I want, and it's not to be with you.”

He keeps up the stony facade, opting instead to pull a card out of his wallet and hand it to her. Leigh accepts the card, her fingers quivering, as a solitary tear finally breaks free and trails down her cheek.

Danny begins to reach out, intending to brush away her tear, but hesitates at the last moment, withdrawing his hand.

“See for yourself. Goodbye, Leigh.”

Just two days later, Leigh finds herself in front of the small animal clinic you own, situated a short walk away from Beautiful Beast—the fitness studio her mom owns and where she works.

Though the sun hangs low in the sky, she's been awake long before it began to rise. She waits for the receptionist to flip the sign from “Sorry, we’re closed” to “Come in, we’re open,” ignoring the curious glance directed her way when the receptionist notices she isn’t accompanied by a furry companion. With a determined smile on her lips, Leigh pushes open the door and steps into the clinic knowing she'll leave it with answers—whatever they might be.

The receptionist looks up from her computer, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern when she sees the look on Leigh's face. “Can I help you?”

Leigh clears her throat, trying to steady her voice. She tells her she’s looking for you, her words coming out in a rush.

The receptionist furrows her brow. “Do you have an appointment?”

Leigh shakes her head, blinking rapidly as she comes up with an excuse. “No, it's... it's urgent,” she stammers. “I need to speak to her right away.”

The receptionist appears mildly annoyed, but it doesn’t faze Leigh in the slightest. “I'll check if she's available. Please take a seat,” she says.

Leigh nods mutely and sinks into one of the chairs. She clasps her hands together tightly in her lap, trying to quell the rising tide of panic threatening to consume her. She imagines Matt’s ghost watching her this very second, frowning at her doubts about their relationship by coming here in the first place.

And what if she’s wrong? What if Matt wasn’t cheating on her after all? But Leigh had to come here to put the issue to rest. Matt would understand why she needs to do this. He always did.

A few moments later, the door behind the reception desk opens and the receptionist emerges from it, motioning for Leigh to enter.

Leigh finds you standing behind your desk, your back to her, arranging a stack of medical records on the shelf.

“Dr. Y/N?” Leigh calls out softly.

You turn around at the sound of her voice, and when she sees you for the first time, Leigh immediately knows.

Danny was telling the truth. It takes everything in her not to break down in front of a stranger her husband fell in love with.

You, however, don’t recognize the woman standing before you, thinking perhaps she's simply one of your past clients. You offer Leigh a contrite smile. “You wanted to see me? Miss…?”

“Leigh Shaw.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell either, but you keep a friendly smile on your face.

Leigh hesitates for a moment before continuing, her voice sounding fragile. “I need to talk to you about my husband,” she says, studying your clueless face. You're stunning and accomplished—a doctor and a businesswoman. You have a smile that could brighten even the darkest room.

Matt never stood a chance, did he?

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat.

Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.”

After leaving your clinic, Leigh heads straight to Matt’s grave, stomping angrily on the sparse sheet of grass that has begun to sprout from his resting place.

“You're such a fucking liar!” she spits out at the unsusceptible headstone, the heat of fury spreading through her veins and to every molecule in her body. The cold wind lashes through her hair as Leigh drops to her knees, feeling like the entire world is bearing down on her. She reaches out to touch the cold marble of the headstone, still seeking solace from the one who caused her so much hurt.

“Why, Matt?”

She knows there will be no answers—only the cold silence of death.

Leigh feels a surge of anger rise within her once more as she recalls the way you looked at her—the pain in your eyes when she revealed to you that Matt had died. What you two had was real, as real as what she had with him. She had been hoping it was at least just a fling, but alas, she couldn’t be further from her assumptions.

“I can't believe I ever loved you,” Leigh mutters bitterly. She wants to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But all she can do is clutch at the grass beneath her, her nails digging into the earth as if trying to anchor herself against the torrent of pain crippling her chest. Tears stream down her face as she finally collapses to the ground, assuming a fetal position, whispering, “I can't believe I still do.”

You continue to stare at the space that Leigh previously occupied for a good ten minutes, not moving an inch from where you stood—shocked, hurt, confused. Matt, the man you had been seeing, was dead. And not just dead, but married. Married to someone else, someone named Leigh Shaw, a name so important but he managed to hide from you for weeks.

Matt had never mentioned a wife, never wore a ring, never hinted at the existence of someone waiting for him at home. If he had, you would never have let him get as close to you like he did. You've always respected boundaries and families—and now you've discovered that unwittingly, you've destroyed one.

Leigh's departure was swift, just as soon as you confessed to having feelings for her husband and how Matt reciprocated those same feelings. Leigh, ruthless in her questioning, demanded to know if you had slept with Matt. You swore you never did, detailing how Matt abruptly ghosted you after your first kiss, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and missed calls.

You wanted so badly for Leigh to believe you, and you think she did. However, none of it mattered in the end. He cheated all the same. He hurt the woman he made a promise to love and stay faithful to.

Because of you.

You feel sickened by your own naivety; by the way you have allowed yourself to be fooled by his lies. And yet, amidst the anger and self-recrimination, there is a profound sense of loss. Despite the circumstances of your relationship, you had cared for Matt deeply. Maybe even loved him.

But how much of it was real? How much of it was not about him running from his problems with his wife and using you as a distraction? The ease with which he slipped out of your life suddenly fits into place.

While his passing deeply rattled you, it's now largely overshadowed by thoughts of his widow.

Leigh Shaw.

Earlier, even though you said sorry over and over, it felt like it wasn't enough, and you wanted to do more to make her feel better. What stopped you was the realization that you're likely the last person she would want comfort from. A sense of helplessness washes over you as you come to the conclusion that there's nothing you can do to undo the damage that's been done. Matt is gone, and Leigh's world has been shattered in ways you can't even begin to imagine.

Moving on from Matt is something you know you could do. He wasn’t the first person to break your heart, be it through deceit or demise. But the situation with Leigh is unfamiliar territory.

How do you fix this for her?

Will she even let you?

When Leigh tells Jules about Matt’s infidelity, her sister fixates on the detail that she slept with Danny. It’s not the response Leigh expected. She anticipated shock, and maybe even a bit of outrage on her behalf. But instead, Jules latches onto the one detail that seems to pale in comparison to the enormity of Matt's betrayal.

“But how could you?” Jules asks, her voice incredulous as she chews on a dumpling. “How could you sleep with Danny?”

Faced with her sister's disapproval, Leigh finds herself clamming up. “Are you kidding? I just told you that Matt was cheating on me, and your response is to judge me for hooking up with a single guy while I'm single?” Leigh retorts, hastily wiping her lips with a napkin.

Jules just shakes her head, putting down her chopsticks. “Leigh, I get it. Matt’s betrayal is awful, and you have every right to be angry. But the ‘single guy’ you hooked up with isn't just any guy, and you know it. You don't think it's weird? What would people think? That all this time, sleeping with your husband’s brother has always been an option?”

Leigh's eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, she's speechless. She hadn't—didn't want to entertain the idea of what sleeping with Danny would imply. She was chasing a feeling; any feeling that wasn’t emptiness. And with Danny, she did feel something, even if it was regret and shame. At least it proved she was still capable of feeling at all.

“It… just happened,” Leigh murmurs, rubbing her temples. Hollowness and migraines, she's almost forgotten.

“And? Is it going to be a ‘thing’?” Jules probes, eyebrows raised.

Leigh lifts her gaze, biting back a defensive retort. Instead she simply says, “Absolutely not.”

Jules seems satisfied with that, knocking back the rest of her beer. “Good.”

But as Jules moves on, Leigh’s left stewing in her own thoughts. Telling Jules felt like yelling into a void—exhausting and utterly pointless. Now she’s dreading the thought of breaking the news to Drew. If Jules’ reaction was any indication, she’s in for another round of disappointment.

Being a young widow already sets her apart, but nothing makes her feel more alone than her family's inability to truly grasp her grief. She guesses she's been feeling alone for years, long before Matt came into her life and subsequently left it.

Jules, catching the tail end of Leigh's distant look, leans in and asks, “So, what's the plan now? You still going to that grief counseling group? Danny's been showing up there, right?”

Leigh's gaze sharpens, a bit taken aback by the sudden shift back to practicalities. “Are you asking about my plans with Danny? Because I already told you, that's over. I'm never seeing him again.”

Jules raises her hands in a placating gesture, mindful that one wrong move could tip Leigh over the edge for good. “Not really, no. I'm asking if you're still keen on processing your grief. Now that it turns out Matt was... well, a snake.”

Jules calling Matt a snake doesn't sit well with Leigh even with his cheating coming to light. But she supposes it's Jules' way of being on her side every once in a while. It's a clumsy attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.

“Yeah, I'm still going,” Leigh finally says, her gaze dropping to her lap before meeting Jules' eyes again. “Not for Danny, not for anyone else, but for me. Turns out, finding out your rotting husband was living a double life does a number on you. Who knew, right?”

Jules cracks a small, rueful smile at that and says, “Who knew indeed.”

Leigh thinks back to the time when she believed she knew Matt inside and out, a belief so deeply ingrained it felt like a cornerstone of her identity as his wife. She prided herself on their connection, convinced that they shared everything—every thought, every fear, every dream. It was a pride rooted in the belief that she knew him better than anyone else could, and he, her, in the same intimate manner.

It was the kind of recognition that’s not only about knowing his favorite color or the way he took his coffee. It’s deeper and more layered. She knew the exact tone of voice he'd use when he was about to apologize, the look in his eyes when he was holding back tears, the subtle shift in his posture when he was trying to be braver than he felt. And she thought he knew her just as intricately—the silent language of her sighs, the meaning behind her quietest smiles, the small, everyday details that they believed only they could understand about each other.

“It's hard, you know? Feeling like you're mourning someone who never really existed,” Leigh mumbles after a long pause.

“Yeah, I can't even imagine,” Jules responds, reaching across the table to give Leigh's hand a brief squeeze. “But I'm here, okay? Even if I don't always get it right.”

Jules, Drew, Danny, her mom—all of them—rarely get it right. It has always been Matt.

He has always been all she has and needed.

Even if Leigh wasn't aware that she was probably just getting his scraps.

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps thinking over the next several days. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It doesn’t help that there’s a new member who has also been widowed, and she’s sharing about her late husband who had quite a number of mistresses throughout their eighteen years of marriage.

Leigh listens, her fingers twisted together in her lap, as the woman talks about the signs she missed, the lies she believed.

“I just keep thinking,” the woman's voice breaks, “if I'd been more attentive, more... I don't know, less demanding, maybe things would've been different.”

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps screaming inside. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It took Leigh a long time to return to the apartment she shared with Matt after his passing.

Mostly, it's because Leigh found it difficult to confront the scattered remnants of him that would remain untouched in his absence. No longer would he be picking up his favorite shirt or completing another page of his crossword puzzle book. Yet, these belongings would remain his, just as Leigh felt she still belonged to him.

So it’s ironic that now, surrounded by the same belongings in her bedroom at her mother’s home, she's being overwhelmed by the impulse to turn them all into ashes. In a sudden frenzy, Leigh grabs a box and begins to throw everything inside. The sound of her ragged breathing fills the room, only matched by the soft thuds of objects landing in the cardboard.

“Stupid fucking toys!” she shouts, tossing a figurine with more force than necessary.

“And this shirt—what were you thinking?” She grabs a garishly patterned fabric, shaking it at the empty air as if expecting an answer.

Her voice cracks, “You're not even here, and you're driving me crazy!”

As Leigh's wrath burns through the remnants of Matt’s life, her thoughts take a dark turn. The things he owned, the pieces of his life flying from her hand—it all leads her back to the one person who had a piece of him, a piece that was never hers.

The thought of your face, the one that belonged to him too at one point, flashes in her mind, and she's on the edge of losing all control.

If only Leigh could throw you into the box too.

Finally, she finds the book he gave her for her last birthday, the one she never read, and for a moment, her movements pause. Then, with a cry of anguish, she tosses it in as well. When the box is full, she kicks it. Once, twice, thrice—each kick releasing a burst of pent-up fury until she's gasping for breath.

A knock at the door startles her. It's soft but persistent, making it obvious that whoever is outside has heard the commotion in her room. “Leigh, honey, are you done in there?” Amy's voice seeps through the wood.

Leigh wipes at her eyes. “Almost. I, uh… just give me a minute,” she calls back. She’s not done—not really. But she’ll probably set the house on fire if she doesn’t stop here.

Pushing herself up, Leigh opens the door. She knows the sight she presents isn't pretty—eyes swollen red, nose a mess, and those dark circles. But her mom has seen this look more times than either would care to count.

“You okay?” her mom asks, though the answer's written all over Leigh's face.

Leigh shakes her head, no energy to pretend.

“Want some breakfast?”

Again, “No,” slips out.

Then, “Need a ride to the studio?” her mom tries again.

“Yes,” Leigh finds herself saying, clinging to the offer like a lifeline, a small acknowledgment that life, somehow, must go on.

The following day, Leigh looks at the box, then at everything around her. She mutters, “Screw this,” and starts pulling everything out of the box, putting it all back where it came from.

Leigh's back at running, not because she loves it, but because the sun insists on poking her awake before the rest of the world stirs. It's an old hobby, dusted off to fill the gaping mornings before her first yoga class.

It’s easy to do because she realizes she’s good at it. Leigh’s only been at it for just a couple of weeks and already she's feeling fitter, faster. She likes the pain too, not being aware before that there are different kinds of pain, and some of them do feel good—addicting even.

Mid-thought, her routine jog takes a wild left turn: stranded in the middle of the bustling traffic is a French Bulldog, looking decidedly out of place. Ignoring the honks and the near misses, Leigh bolts across the street. It's a bit of a mad dash, dodging cars that are swerving and braking hard. She scoops him up in her arms and doesn’t stop to think about the close calls.

It hits her then—she's surprised at her own gutsiness, not even pausing to think that she could've been clipped by a car not paying attention. Maybe all this time spent wrestling with thoughts of death has brought her to a strange peace with it and is no longer scared of it. It's like she's danced with death so much, it's just another shadow she passes by—not something that paralyzes her in place anymore.

Leigh’s not sure if being this fearless is actually a good thing though.

After cooling her heels on the sidewalk for half an hour, with no owner in sight, she shrugs and decides he’s coming home with her.

Jules gives her a scrutinizing look the moment she walks in. “What, you went out for a run and decided to get a dog?”

“Rescue mission,” Leigh shoots back, setting the dog down. “Found him in the middle of Second Street. Seems he’s lost.”

Jules doesn't miss a beat, heading straight for the newcomer. She kneels, her hands gently petting the dog, her eyes softening in a way that Leigh rarely sees. The dog, clearly pleased with the attention, wags its tail vigorously. Her eyes are practically giving her away, so it sounds almost funny when she looks up at Leigh and says, “Just don't get too attached, okay?”

“I won’t, which is why I named him Visitor. It’s temporary,” Leigh says with a smile, looking very proud of the name she came up with.

Jules chuckles, standing up and brushing off her knees. “Nerd. Matt would've gotten a kick out of that.”

The room just freezes at the mention of his name. Talking about Matt is like walking into a glass door you didn't see.

Jules tries to backpedal, “Hey, sorry, I—” But Leigh's quick to brush it off with a shrug.

“Don't worry about it. Let's just figure out where Visitor here belongs, okay?”

As they refocus on Visitor, Jules can't help but notice the way the dog favors one leg as he trots over to sit snugly between Leigh's legs, looking up at her with those big, trusting eyes. “Looks like he's got a bit of a limp,” Jules points out.

Leigh frowns and leans down to get a closer look, her fingers gently probing around Visitor's leg until she finds a tender spot. The moment she applies a little pressure, Visitor yelps, pulling away sharply and retreating a few steps.

Jules winces at the reaction. “Yeah, that's not good. Maybe we should take him to a vet?”

Leigh can barely hold back a grimace as her brain immediately links you to the situation.

“What's wrong?” Jules notices the sudden shift in Leigh’s mood. “There's St. Mary's Animal Clinic nearby. I heard they're great.”

That's your clinic. Leigh's throat tightens at the thought, the memories of her visit flooding back. “Are there others around here?”

Jules looks puzzled at the question. “I mean, I can look it up, but what's wrong with St. Mary's?”

Leigh considers whether she should tell Jules about meeting you. Part of her really knows it’s unfair to dislike you, especially if you genuinely didn't know Matt was married. But she knows Jules too well—tell her, and it'll turn into a whole thing. Leigh's not sure she's up for that drama.

Despite her reservations, Leigh decides to bite the bullet, her curiosity getting the better of her. Besides, if she can’t be brave enough to talk about this in her counseling group, she should probably at least tell Jules.

“Actually, Jules,” Leigh begins, “St. Mary's Animal Clinic is where... where she works.”

Jules's eyes widen in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “Wait, you mean... you mean her, as in…?” she stammers, disbelief written all over her face.

“Yup,” Leigh confirms, smacking her lips forcefully.

“Oh my god—that bitch,” Jules spits out, her voice dripping with disdain before Leigh can even brace for impact.

“She didn’t know Matt’s married,” Leigh clarifies quickly.

“And you bought that?”

“I had a feeling she was telling the truth. Besides, I can’t imagine Matt being that brazen to pursue someone while married. He can be a little self-righteous sometimes,” Leigh says, only half-sure of her statement. Recently, she has to remind herself that maybe she never really knew him at all.

Then, an idea sparks in Jules's mind. “You know what?” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Maybe this is a good opportunity. After all, she owes you one, right? Maybe she'll treat Visitor for free, to make up for being... well, you know.”

Leigh rubs her nose, skeptical of the idea. “I don't know, Jules. I don't want to impose…”

Jules leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I mean, if she's the reason you're hurting, maybe she should make it right?”

She isn't hurting because of you, not directly. That's why Jules’ suggestion hangs in the air, unappealing. Leigh remembers the pity in your eyes from that morning, and she doesn't want it. She doesn't want anything from you at all. Her resolve instantly hardens like ice.

“No,” Leigh finally says. “I don't want her charity. I'll pay for Visitor's bills myself. And I'll keep the receipts for when his real owners show up.” It's a decision that feels surprisingly empowering, a small reclaiming of control in a world that's felt off-kilter for too long.

Jules merely sighs; she knows better than to push Leigh when her mind’s made up.

“Have it your way.”

Leigh brings Visitor to St. Mary’s the very next day.

There's a certain set to her jaw, a readiness for something less than pleasant. She doesn’t need to go through reception this time because she spots you right away, escorting a client to the door, cradling their puppy in your arms. Seeing you with a pet makes Leigh realize why you’ve chosen this profession. You fit right in among the animals, she muses bitterly.

It's with a sense of satisfaction that she watches your smile dissipate as soon as your eyes land on hers.

She strides confidently towards you, dog in arms, forcing you to quickly hand off the puppy back to its owner. Yet, you recover with a swiftness that's begrudgingly admirable as you give her a look that’s equal parts professional and friendly—like you were actually looking forward to seeing her again.

“Good morning, Leigh. How can I help you?”

Without a word, Leigh extends the dog she’s carrying towards you, a silent transfer of trust, or perhaps, necessity. You gesture towards the consultation room, an invitation she accepts with a terse nod, following you into the space where you effortlessly shift into doctor mode.

As you begin to charm her dog, she can't help but narrow her eyes. It irks her, watching Visitor take to you instantly, as if you were old friends. “What's his name?” you ask, looking up at Leigh.

“Visitor.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the name, just in time for your irises to capture the light seeping through the office blinds. They glow a hazel-brown, disarmingly so. Leigh forces herself to focus back on the purpose of her visit.

Leigh continues, “He’s limping on his left hind leg. I’d appreciate it if you can prescribe him something. I'll try not to take up too much of your time.”

Ignoring the undercurrent of Leigh's insinuation, your attention remains undividedly on Visitor. The well-being of the dog before you eclipses any personal sentiments, as it always does.

“I'm sorry, but before we can consider any medication, I need to examine him thoroughly. It's possible he might require some lab tests to rule out anything serious,” you tell her. Despite sounding apologetic, Leigh interprets it as your polite way of telling her to fuck off and let you do your job.

As you palpate the dog's leg carefully, you begin your routine questions. “Can you tell me his birthday? Any vaccination history?”

They’re basic, but they seem to catch Leigh off guard anyway. “He’s not mine. I found him on the street yesterday,” she reveals with a reluctant sigh.

The news prompts a more detailed response from you.

“I see. In that case, we should definitely line up some tests for Visitor. We need to ensure he doesn't have distemper or any other airborne virus that could be affecting his mobility,” you suggest, already mentally cataloging the necessary procedures.

You start detailing the tests you intend to perform, explaining their purposes and associated costs. Leigh is clearly deluged by it all and you decide to take pity on the poor woman by adding that it’s still up to her which tests to proceed with, if any at all.

“Your call, Leigh,” you tell her.

Leigh can't shake off the vibe that you're throwing a gauntlet down in front of her. It's like her inner competitor wakes up, refusing to back down. “Do all of them,” she declares, tipping her chin up towards you. “Whatever you think is best.”

“That’s a good decision. We’ll take care of it right away,” you say, already picking up the phone to call the reception for assistance.

Leigh's still trying to get a read on you. Was her arm twisted into this choice, or did you genuinely have Visitor's best interest at heart? She's not about to hand out trust like free samples, especially when she could end up misjudging you. It’s a tricky spot, especially because she’s clearly been wrong before.

The tests take their time, roughly an hour, after which Leigh finds herself pacing the lobby. An additional quarter-hour trickles by before the receptionist finally calls her back into the consultation room.

“Good news,” you start, making sure to catch her eye. She meets your look briefly before her attention shifts to Visitor. “It's only a sprain. The X-ray revealed no breaks or other issues. But,” you pause, checking to see if she's still fully engaged, “his blood tests indicated a low platelet count and evidence of an infection.”

Leigh listens intently, nodding along.

You explain what this means in a clear, concise manner, avoiding medical jargon as much as possible. “It's something we can manage with medication. I'll prescribe some antibiotics for the infection and pain medication to help with his discomfort. It's important that he completes the course of antibiotics to clear the infection completely.”

You watch Leigh closely, gauging her reaction and ready to answer any questions she might have. “We'll need to keep an eye on his platelet count, so I'd like to schedule a follow-up visit next week. This will also give us a chance to check how his leg is healing.”

“Will he be okay?” she asks without looking up from Visitor, busy scratching behind his ears.

“He'll be just fine,” you reassure her, adding, “Any questions about what we discussed?”

Leigh stays silent and you take it as your cue that she doesn’t have any thoughts on the matter. As she wraps up without saying much more, you realize it's time to wrap things up too. But there's something niggling at you, something that's been on your mind since the last time she was here. You're about to let her go, but then, out of nowhere, you feel this urge to clear the air about that whole mess with Matt.

“So, uhm, about the other week when you…” you trail off, suddenly feeling like you're balancing on a tightrope without a net. You’re not so easily spooked by confrontations, but Leigh makes you nervous in a way you can’t explain. “I guess I just wanted to say sorry… for your loss, and for—”

“Does he really need to take pain medication for seven days?” Leigh cuts you off suddenly. It’s sharp enough for you to shut your mouth and abandon your attempt to get personal.

“Yes, the full course is important to ensure he's comfortable and that the inflammation goes down properly. It's just as crucial as the antibiotics for his recovery…”

Leigh nods, carefully scooping Visitor into her arms, preparing to leave.

You try one last time. “Leigh, I really am sorry–”

“I’ll see you next week, Dr. Y/L/N,” she says dismissively and then she’s gone.

580 notes · View notes

wolfish-trickster · 3 years

Text

Advent kisses

5/24

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 1 353

Summary: Instead of chocolates, kisses are going to be recieved everyday until Christmas.

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @modestlyabsurd @winterfrostsarmy @spaceyempress @thefridgeismybestie

Loki wiped the single tear off his face. That movie of yours hit too close to home. A dark haired boy rejected and hated for his differences. Linked to snow. In love with a beautiful young lady. But unlike Edward, Loki was cuddled under a blanket with the girl of his dreams. Who was fast asleep.

He couldn't count how many times you 'aaawed' or giggled during the movie. Whenever Edward did something cute or clumsy. You were adorable.

After the credits he just sat there. With you leaning on his shoulder, heat radiating from your skin, warming him. The temptation to kiss you again was big. But that would mean no kiss tomorrow. You didn't know about these kisses being replacement for chocolates, of course. But still, Loki couldn't betray himself like this.

He slowly shifted your weight, pulled your upper half so you would fully sit on his lap with your head under Loki's chin. This felt good. He stayed like that for couple of minutes, enjoying your closeness. He then slipped his hand under your knees, the other one supporting your back. He carried you bridal style all the way to your room. Under invisible charm, just like the one you were under the whole day. 'To hell with Stark.'

He gently placed you in your bed and covered you with your blanket. He slightly caressed the side of your head and went to his own room.

"Come on, you'll feel better."

"What do you not understand on the word 'no'?!"

Loki has been awake for only half an hour and he was already arguing with someone. Today that someone was Sam.

"Just try it Loki. You're always grumpy in the morning, after a run you'll be relaxed and full of energy. Plus you need to move, i haven't seen you exercise in at least five days."

"It's saturday, I don't need to be full of energy. Besides, do you really think it's wise to go outside right before rain?"

"Sam, we're ready, we can go," came a voice behind Loki. It was Bucky and Steve. Those two are always together.

"Yeah right, before we go explain to Mr. Know-it-all he has to spend more time outside of library. And what makes you think it's going to rain? We watched forecast, they didn't mention any changes in weather. Or did you magically gain powers to see into the future of the clouds?" Sam mocked Loki a bit. As someone who grew up with a guy who made it rain everytime a girl dumped him Loki could say he has gained those abilities. But it's his duty as God of Mischief to make a little fun.

Loki put on his, as Sam called it, grumpy face. "No, I did not. I just know humans make mistakes, it's very likely they made one in a forecast too."

"You know what? You're not gonna ruin my good mood. Of we go Team Awesome Morning Runners!"

"Sam," Steve could only cringe through Sam's bubbly antics as the three of them went to elevators.

Loki thought a little bit. Sam was right about something: he hasn't gone to gym for at least a week. He didn't like to work out with potential audience. He has always exercised alone. To surprise everyone who thought 'no visible muscle=no strength'. Everyone was out of that area of the building. Tony was taking a nap after a long sleepless night, Thor dragged Natasha to jewelry store (he has no idea what tastes midgardian women have and needs an expert), Clint and Bruce went to buy Christmas presents, Vision and Wanda did god knows what (the trickster god certainly didn't want to know) and you haven't even got out of your bed yet.

Loki made you tea and some light breakfast and left it on a table with a paper with your name.

Loki trained long and hard. His whole body hurt, but he felt stronger. After a long hot shower he dressed in the softest sweater he could find and loose sweat pants. Not the most elegant, but comfortable nonetheless.

When he stepped into the kitchen to hydrate himself he saw you. You were cutting something. Probably a bread. You had your earphones blasting music to your ears. He heard you hum to yourself. He just stood there and watched you. He didn't want to scare you, so he just waited until you turned around and saw him yourself.

Just as you turned around you jumped upon seeing him. "God you scared me," you chuckled.

"Apologies. Might I ask what are you doing?"

You hung your earphones around your neck and held up your phone. "Natasha called. Her and Thor are coming back. Somehow Thor found out what scrambled eggs are and wants to try them. I didn't have other plans so I volunteered to make him some. It's been months since I've cooked something. Do you want some? I can make more if you'd like to."

Loki knew of those 'scrambled eggs' but has never tried them." Yes, it would be lovely if you made some more for me. Can I watch you making them?" he asked sheepishly. Just as he didn't like audience during training, you didn't have to like it during your cooking.

Your eyes light up. "Of course, you can even help, if you want to."

He moved from the corner he was previously leaning on and walked to your side.

He looked at all those ingredients: onion, eggs, bacon, salt, pepper, bread. "So how do we start?"

"It's easy. First we cut the onion to tiny cubes and let them roast on the pan for a while, then we add bacon and at the end some eggs. Then we just have to mix it and add a little salt and pepper to it. I know everyone does it differently, I do them like this. I hope both of you will like them."

'Of course I' ll like them, you're the one making them after all.' Loki thought.

You gave him a knife and huge chunk of bacon. You instructed him how big the pieces needed to be and started to peel the onion. Loki was finished in matter of seconds. Working with knife was like a second nature to him. He looked over at you. You were clumsily cutting onion, evident you haven't done it in a while. He caught your hand before you could make another slice. If you did you would've cut yourself.

You looked at him apologetically. "I guess I should cook more, otherwise I'll forget how to make tea one day," you laughed.

"Nonsense. It takes time and skill to cut precisly. You still have that skill, you just need to find it. Here, let me help you," he stepped behind you, adjusting your hand on the half of the onion. He wrapped his hand around yours, squezed it so you would hold the knife more firmly. He pressed his chest to your back and looked at that vegetable over your shoulder. He started to cut, slowly. "You need to bend your fingers on the onion, so you don't cut them," he breathed into your ear.

"Okay," you whispered. He cut the whole onion like this, just to be sure you didn't hurt yourself. Just as he wanted to let you go you opened your mouth. "Thank you for the breakfast, by the way."

Loki smiled, let your hands go and hugged you. "Any time my sweet," and kissed you on the back of your head. Your hair smelled like fruit. He hugged you a little more after he ended the kiss.

"Are we interrupting something?"

Loki never wanted to murder as much as now. However when he turned around he laughed. The team of awesome morning runners stood there, drenched. Loki didn't even notice when it started raining.

You were chuckling behind him."Bucky, go dry yourself, before you start to rust."

"Well ha ha, very funny Y/N."

"ARE THE EGGS DONE YET?"

"Hi Thor. And no, they're not. Sorry."

'And there goes my romantic day with Y/N....'

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki fluff #fluffy loki #christmas fic #the avengers #fluff

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marvelfansince08love · 4 years

Text

Helpless

Word count: 2304

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warning: A small part is NSFW 18+

Prompt 9 - “You pull a stunt like that again; you won’t be coming for a month”

A/N: For @xxxtwilightaxelxxx I hope you enjoy love! Sorry it took so long x

Tagging a few: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @imnotasuperhero @j-does-life @the-enamorando-deity @missmonsters2 @veteranwerewolf95

Prompt 9

“Y/N DO NOT ENGAGE. I REPEAT DO NOT ENGAGE.” Steve’s authoritative voice crackles through the comms and into your ear, making you shake your head in defiance.

“No can do, Cap. I have no other choice but to take out the west wing, there are people in that room.” You argue back, grunting as you swing a right hook into the guy's jaw, knocking him out cold.

You continue to move forward taking out any and all enemies that cross your path. Muffled arguments continue on in your ear as you elect to ignore the orders and make your way to the west wing.

“Listen to Steve Y/N, or so help me God I’ll make my way over to you myself.” That beautiful Sokovian accent drips low into your ear, making you falter ever so slightly from your task.

“Wanda, I have no choice. I can’t wait around for you to get here, it’s a ticking time bomb in there. I’m sorry.” You justify, before taking the small piece out of your ear and throwing it onto the floor. The angry voices of your girlfriend and friend/captain slowly get quieter as you move further down the hall.

Once you’ve reached the secret office door, you search the now unconscious guard for his pass before entering the room.

“You shouldn’t be in here, little lady.” The man mocks, smirking criminally at you. He goes to remove his gun out of his holster but you clock the movement quicker than his reaction to reach for it, ducking quickly and with one leg out ready to sweep him to the floor you use one of Nat’s widow bites to finish the job, ignoring the pleading and screams of the civilians. You move forward to the small group tied together in the corner and hush them gently.

“Hey hey, we got you guys. We’re gonna get you out of here, but I need you to stay quiet as there are still people like him on board, alright?” The silent nods of acknowledgement is enough to reassure you as you move towards the ticking bomb, making quick work to try and disable it. The time quickly descends as sweat begins to pour down your forehead.

“Fuck! Why isn't this working?!” You growl, quietly to yourself. Fingers fumbling with the red and blue wires.

“Y/N!” Natasha’s voice panicked as she entered the room with Sam and Bucky flanking either side of her. You refuse to turn your head to acknowledge their presence as you continue to work at the ticking time bomb.

“Widow get them out of here, now!” You shout, your patience suddenly running thin as you realise you don’t have enough time to escape before the explosion. Hurried footsteps behind you, tell you they are following your order. A hand grips your shoulder tightly, snapping you out of your work.

“That includes you as well Y/N. Wanda will kill me if I leave you here,” Sam’s voice, grunts close to your ear. You nod in agreement before standing quickly and rushing out behind them. A gunshot close to your head makes you stumble to the side and turn quickly at the assault.

“You think you can just leave? I needed those people and you freaks in suits having ruined everything! Now, you’ll pay.” The man from the office spats, holding out his gun pointing straight at you. You gulp realising that within the midst of chaos you had dropped your only weapon on hand after scuffling with the man in front of you.

“What you did was wrong, Andrews. You think killing me is going to stop you from going to prison? Human experimentation doesn’t go down well here.” You try to reason, keeping your eyes trained on the gun in front.

“But it would feel so good to put a bullet through your narrow minded head.” He smirks, hand tightening around the gun. You blink quickly, trying to clear your now wet eyes.

‘He’s going to kill me’ You think, frightened at the thought.

“Over my dead body he will,” That sweet angelic voice that you love so much, growls from behind you as you watch the swirls of red mist travel past you and wrap around Andrews like a vice. You watch as his eyes widen in fear, his hand loosening around the gun as Wanda lifts him up into the air, her hand twisting ending his life. You turn around quickly to face her, smirking slightly ready to tease her on how hot she is when she’s angry but the red glare she throws you makes you pause and gulp.

“That window near the far corner is open, yes?” She questions not fully acknowledging your presence as she moves towards it.

“Yeah, it broke through after the first explosion. Did the others make it out?”

“Yes, luckily. You on the other hand..” she stops, shaking her head as to visibly stop her train of thought.

Before you can apologise for your reckless behaviour, Wanda grabs a hold of you, pulling you tight against her as she jumps through the window using her magic to make our landing as safe as possible. Once on the ground Wanda pulls away from you and walks towards the Quinjet silently, you clench your jaw trying to hold back the frustrated tears. Before you could go and chase after her Steve blocks your path, arms crossed with that ‘I’m disappointed” look he wears whenever we go against his orders, you make a good effort to not roll your eyes at him.

“What the hell was that, Y/N? You went against every order I gave you. How reckless could you be? You were lucky Wanda got to you in time.”

“Hey! I knew exactly what I was doing Steve, I assessed the situation and realised we wouldn’t have enough time by the time the others got to me and I was closer to the room! I knew Wanda would get to me in time,” You lie, knowing full well that you doubted you were ever going to get out of there breathing and alive.

“Well you know what, one of these days Wanda isn’t going to be able to get to you on time or anyone in fact. You have to be more careful Y/N! Consider this a warning.. You do it again, you're off the next mission.” He threatens, but you can see the fight in his eyes. On one hand he needs to be authoritative but he knows deep down he would have done the same. You sigh in defeat knowing that he is right.

“You got it Steve. It won’t happen again, I promise.” You swear, he nods and sighs in relief before pulling you in for a brief hug before walking side by side with you to the Quinjet.

Once you walk inside, the others lecture and tease you about being so reckless and that you’ll end up like Tony if you aren’t careful, earning an offended ‘Hey!’ from the man himself at the front of the jet. You laugh at their joking but your eyes stray to the brunette figure in the corner of the jet, who seems far more interested in her magic that swirls around her slender fingers keeping herself away from the group and you as much as possible.

You go to sit next to her and place a hesitant hand onto her knee, making her grab a hold of your hand and subtly shake her head in rejection. Your stomach drops at the thought of having an upset Wanda, knowing her silence is never good, you sit silently near her, never touching until you arrive back at the compound.

You follow after her out of the Quinjet like a lost puppy as you hear quiet snickering from Sam and Clint.

“Someone’s on the couch tonight.” Sam jokes to Clint, who chuckles before Nat walks between them, slapping them across the back of their heads at the childishness making them whine and wince. You continue forward hoping that she will talk to you but just as you go to speak she walks through the door of her floor and shuts it closing you off from her. You drop your head against the wooden door and sigh in defeat, a soft hand lays gently against your back.

“Come on Myshka. Let’s leave our Little Witch alone to cool down. She’s more scared than angry Y/N, she didn’t think she’d get to you.” Nat soothes, guiding you away from your girlfriend's floor and to the communal area.

“Okay, who wants a drink?” Tony asks, already scanning the liquor cabinet. Everyone cheers tiredly, while you continue to look down the empty hallway where Wanda’s floor is, hoping for her to come and join.

‘Just give her time.’ You lecture yourself.

***

You lie in your big, cold king sized bed, facing the ceiling as your mind reels from the day's events fresh from a well deserved shower. You had tried Wanda’s a few more times after a drink with the team but your brunette lover never responded. Sighing in defeat, you slumped your way to your own floor that you haven’t been using much since you and Wanda started dating over three months ago. The room feels cold and bare without the warm and softness of the witch. You lie in bed just hoping that tomorrow you can finally talk to her and make up for your reckless behaviour. With that, you slowly close your eyes and hope for tomorrow.

The feeling of cool metal pinches slightly against your skin, stirring you awake suddenly at the thought of an intruder. Your eyes open wide and wild, ready to attack before they lay upon emerald eyes with a tint of red flickering around her iris. You open your mouth to speak but with the simple lay of her finger to your lips, you stay silent as she hushes you.

You look towards your left wrist noticing a pair of shining metal handcuffs attached to it as she brings your arm up towards your headboard, bounding you to it before moving to your right wrist.

“Wanda baby, what are you doing?” You question with a twitch of a smirk already knowing the answer, you watch as a devilish smirk appears on her delicious red lips as she clicks the last pair into place, the weight of her on your stomach welcoming as a deep fire sets low within your navel. She leans down towards your ear and whispers softly with such command and lust.

“You pull a stunt like that again; you won’t be coming for a month.” Before taking your earlobe between her teeth and dragging it out and licking around the shell of your ear making you moan.

“Wanda, I’m sorr-” Her lips press against your own silencing your apology. Her red lips placing a small delicate kiss across your cheek and down your neck, never missing an inch of skin.

“Mmm, I love satin lace on you.” She comments above you, her hands dipping low and under your top trailing her fingers across your stomach and up towards your breasts. The action causes your stomach to become exposed to the cold air in the room making you gasp at the change in heat against your skin before she dips her head low and places a wet kiss against your navel. She looks up towards you, her mouth still hovering over your stomach as she smirks a little.

“I’m going to ravish you until you are seeing stars in the night sky, my love. But before that, I want to tell you something.” She informs, leaning back up into a sitting position upon your waist.

You got to place your hands upon her thighs but wince and grunt at the restriction, feeling helpless against the cuffs.

“Wanda, untie me so I can feel you.” You whine.

“You feel helpless, don’t you? To be restrained by something and be unable to reach out and touch me. That’s exactly how I felt today Y/N, I have never felt such terror and dread in my life… to be so helpless. If I had missed you by a split second, that would have been it. I would have lost you.” She confesses, you watch as tears build in her beautiful eyes as she follows the pattern her fingers are creating on your stomach, her chin trembling as she continues to feel you, her touch soft and slow as if trying to memorise every feeling, every touch of you.

“Wanda please, untie my hands so I can hold you.” You plead, snapping her out of her thoughts. With a flick of her wrists the cuffs become loose as they limp to your sides at the sudden lack of restraint. You quickly pull her to you and hold her close, while she cries into your chest.

With your hands cradling her face, you bring her lips towards your own in a desperate kiss.

“I promise, I will never go against you or the team again baby. I’m sorry.” You vow, through breathless kisses. With that said, Wanda pulls you closer to deepen the kiss as tongue and teeth clash in desperate need for one another.

“I’m going to make love to you, moya lyubov and I want you to feel every moment of it.” She whispers against your lip as she grinds low on top of you, her panties under her oversized tee doing nothing to hide how wet she is underneath. You watch as her eyes spark a blood red as she grinds again against you making her groan in pleasure as you feel the rush of arousal hit you.

“Make me feel, Wanda.” With a mischievous smile, she does exactly that.

#wanda maximoff x female!reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elisabeth olsen #scarlet witch x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n

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mostly-marvel-musings · 4 years

Text

Trust

Square Filled: Riding

A/N: See now, I have zero experience writing about ‘horse riding’ if that was expected here, but the other riding however…I know a thing or two ;))

Thor Bingo Masterlist

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Reader

Tags: @swaggysposts @bitchycherryblossomlove @another-stark-sub

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, SMUT, teasing, little angst but a happy ending.

Word count: 2100ish

Written for @thorbingo

…

“Well maybe if you weren’t so damn controlling I wouldn’t have to lie about going out Thor!” you fumed, marching towards your shared bedroom.

“I don’t like it when you hang out with Barnes. He flirts with you all the time.” Thor bellowed from behind, following you.

“You know he’s like that with every girl. How many times do I have to repeat myself? And don’t you trust me?”

You turned to face him, tired of having to explain yourself yet again.

“Of course I trust you love, it is not about that.” Thor’s voice softened as he cautiously approached you, extending his arms to perhaps pull you closer but you pushed them away.

“We wouldn’t be having this argument for the tenth time if you did Thor.” You shook your head and turned, closing the bathroom door behind you.

The whole thing had started when Sam, Bucky, Wanda and you had found yourselves hanging out with each other more and more. The four of you just clicked, it was instant.

Tonight was no different, it was one of those parties Stark wanted to have just because, and your gang had drifted away from the crowd to have a good time, drink and laugh over the stupidest things.

Your boyfriend however, thought there was something cooking with you and Bucky. According to him, Bucky was always ‘around’ and made flirty comments whenever the team hung out. You tried your best to pacify his worries, even tried telling him that no person in this universe would think about laying eyes on the girlfriend of a literal God. But you would always end up fighting, followed by make-up sex after reconciliation.

You had plans to make this man let go of his ego…

You took your time showering and getting into your sleepwear, when you finally walked out Thor was leaning against the wall next to the bathroom, head hung and by the looks of it ready to make an apology.

Take no notice of him, you wandered out into the kitchen to grab some water before turning in for the night. Thor followed you out and back in wordlessly, trying to gauge your mood, unsure of what to say.

Pulling the sheets back, you got in sighing dramatically as your head touched the pillow.

“I trust you (Y/N) without a shadow of doubt, but I—I just don’t—” his voice had gotten significantly quieter, eyes searching yours as he walked closer to the bed still in his formal clothes.

“Just don’t want me having fun with my friends? Good night Thor.” Emphasizing the word friends, you gave him one final glance before turning off the bedside lamp.

Replying to Wanda’s concerned text, you placed your phone on the side table, facing the bedroom wall as you shut your eyes. You sensed the bed dip beside you, however you remained still.

“Good night love.” Thor whispered and placed a soft kiss to your shoulder, which almost made you feel bad for not kissing him before you slept, but you resisted the urge to turn around, pretended to be asleep.

After all a lesson was to be taught.

…

Next morning, waking up earlier than usual, you put on one of Thor’s large white T-shirts purposely removing all other pieces of clothing including your panties, and headed in the kitchen to make breakfast.

“What are you doing?”

Thor’s sleep-ridden voice reached your ears. You were standing on your toes to reach for the box of pancake premix, his shirt had effectively ridden up, revealing your bare ass for him to see. Smiling to yourself, you turned and blinked at him innocuously.

“Oh I need that box up there, could you help me please?”

He walked closer gradually, still studying you as you did him, shirtless, sweats hung low over his hips, morning tent clearly visible through them. Coming up next to you, he could see your pebbled nipples through his shirt, which he found himself staring at before you cleared your throat to get his attention.

Placing the box on the counter, Thor walked over to the breakfast stool and took a seat, watching you like a hawk. Every move you made, the deliberate twirls, dramatic stretching, and the way your hips swayed while you mixed the batter made his cock twitch. You weren’t one to tease, he knew that.

What game were you playing?

Perhaps you were still mad about last night. He wasn’t exactly forgiven. He wanted to confront you, but he was intrigued by this on-going show immensely.

“Thank you love.” He murmured, as you placed a plate loaded with pancakes, syrup and fruit in front of him. Thor went to grab your hand but you swiftly pulled away, placing pancakes and whipped cream on your own plate.

You ate in silence as you sat opposite him. When Thor pointed out you had cream on the corner of your mouth, you deliberately took your time, wiping it off with your tongue, making him squirm in his seat.

“I will take care of the dishes.” He insisted standing up with you, as you cleared the plates. Thor grabbed you by your waist, this time you couldn’t escape, and made you face him.

“Why are you teasing me, my love?” whispering, he pulled you closer to press his hard-on against your core, a gasp left your mouth without your permission. You still avoided his scrutiny, keeping your eyes on the firm plains of his broad chest instead.

Will power wavering, you pushed him away with all you had and turned to stroll towards the bedroom once more.

You could feel his burning gaze on your back as you pulled the tee over your head and threw it on the floor, heading to take a shower mumbling,

“I would never tease.”

…

As evening rolled by, Thor was miserable. All day, your torment made him more and more frustrated and turned on as the day progressed, and the fact that you refused to speak to him made him contemplate of things he could do to get you to talk.

He saw you stirring a pot of soup for dinner and all Thor could think about was the lacy lingerie you wore underneath your robe. He walked up behind you, waited silently till you turned the stove off and turned to find him staring at you, dejected.

Thor took hold of your hand and wordlessly walked you into the bedroom. He kneeled on the bed, facing you and dropped his head to his chest in a submissive stance.

You were stunned. The goal had been aimed towards a confrontation but this took you by surprise.

“What’re you doing Thor?” unlike your strong, unyielding façade all day, your voice came out quiet and reserved.

“Whatever you want me to do.”

His eyes never lifted their gaze from the mattress below him as he said those words. They sounded like something you’d never have imagined coming from a literal God, who at this moment was completely at your mercy.

This was dangerously powerful and all arousing at the same time. You had to take charge.

“Look at me.”

When he did, you saw silent pleads and desire in those forlorn beautiful blue eyes that you loved so much.

“Do you trust me?” you tested.

“Yes.”

Thor’s voice barely over a whisper. That was another first.

“Lie back.”

He did as he was told, like an obedient puppy eager to please. You undid the belts of your robe and let it fall over your shoulders, revealing your black lace bra that left little to the imagination and matching panties.

Strolling over to Thor’s side of the bed as if you had all the time in the world, you watched him. Chest rising and falling in anticipation, cock tenting against the restrictive sweats, eyes trained towards the ceiling.

“Look at me. Pull that shirt over your head, keep your arms up and hold onto it, you understand?”

He gulped, nodding his head as he did as told yet again. You didn’t think compliant, submissive Thor would be so exciting, you could already feel the wetness dampening your panties.

Thor felt the bed dip on his left, his body eager to be touched. You took your time grazing your fingers lightly over his happy trail, cock twitching in attention.

Hooking your fingers over the sweats and boxers, you gently peeled them down freeing his erection, chuckling when he readily lifted his hips to aid your actions.

A needy groan escaped his lips when you wrapped your hand over his throbbing cock, you could tell he was struggling to keep his hands above his head.

“You want me to take care of you baby?” you couldn’t recognize your own voice at this point. Thor nodded willingly.

“I need to hear you.”

“Yes please.” His deep voice thick with want and desperation spurred you on as your thumb swiped over the tip, collecting precum.

Licking agonizingly slowly along the length of his shaft, you felt him move his hips involuntarily. Taking him in your mouth, your tongue swirled around the tip, relishing the explicit noises coming from him.

You released him with a pop, his neck craning to see why you halted your actions, shirt visibly crumpled in his hands. Thor practically sighed in relief when you straddled his hips, your clothed core hanging just inches above his ready, aching cock.

“Do you trust me?” you whispered yet again.

“Yes.” Came a prompt reply as Thor watched your every move with lust-blown eyes.

“Do you really?” tilting your head to one side, you let your hands caress your breasts over the soft fabric of the bra, hips still hovering over his, not touching yet close enough.

“Yes I do, my love. I’m sorry for the way I behaved, I trust you. I trust you completely.”

Rough but truthful, his words tugged at your heartstrings making you lean forward to kiss him for the first time that day.

Tentative at first, Thor sighed into the kiss, tense shoulders relaxing under your touch as your fingers slid up to grab his face. Your tongue danced with his in a push and pull of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I forgive you’. Somewhere around it, you unclasped your bra and threw it behind without bothering.

You parted from his lips long enough to murmur, “Touch me Thor.” When he seemed unsure of moving his arms from their place. Needy for his hands on your body, you gripped his wrists and placed them on your back.

He touched you everywhere leaving your skin burning for more, it was as if he were touching you for the very first time. When he reached the waistband of your panties, he ripped them in two, the sound of a fabric tearing had never sounded sexier.

Jerking his hips upwards, you moaned when his cock made contact with your dripping core. Sitting back, you wrapped a hand around him once again, this time positioning it over yourself and sinking down on it, toes curling as you did.

Breathing hitched, mind concentrating on nothing but the fullness you felt as your walls clenched around him possessively. After what seemed like an eternity staying still, you rolled your hips, eyes closed in pleasure as rode him, and his hands went to knead your breasts, pinching your nipples drawing series of profanities from your mouth.

You knew you wouldn’t last long as rolling turned to bouncing on his cock, chasing your release. Thor’s large hands gripped your back securely, as he sat up and replaced his hands with his mouth over your nipple. He thrust into you hard and fast, sending you closer and closer to the edge, as the room filled with grunts and moans.

Pulling the ends of his hair, you shuddered as your orgasm crashed over you with one final scream. Your climax pushed Thor towards his, as he came emptying himself into you, holding you as your bodies quivered and trembled. You felt him soften inside you, but you had no intentions of being away neither did he.

When the dizziness disappeared, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your flushed face in it. Gently rocking on the bed, you sat there embracing one another close, not uttering a word for what felt like hours.

“I love you.”

Thor’s deep voice resonated from his chest, making warmth bloom in your belly, as he traced random patterns on your naked back.

“I love you too Thor.” You whispered, connected your lips yet again.

…

#thor odinson x reader #thor bingo #thor odinson smut #thor odinson imagine #thor odinson fluff #thor angst #thor feels #mcu thor #thor odinson fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mostly marvel musings

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marvelyningreen · 3 years

Text

Aftershocks - From the Series Finale (a deleted scene)

Night 1 | Night 2 | Night 3

[Summary: You’d traveled to Westview to rescue Peter. Getting locked away by some sinister witch might’ve delayed you a bit, but you’d escaped, and you weren’t going to be stopped again.

Warnings: mild language, references to injury / mind control / death

Notes: Peter Maximoff x reader. This was meant to be a flashback during Night 2, but it turned into way too long of a digression. So, here it is: presented as a deleted scene while I finish Night 3. It’s a bit sparse in the places where I would’ve just been summarizing the episode, but I figure you already know the details. Into Tomorrow is a continuation of the scene, more or less.

Tag list: @cowboyenorgy ]

After an indeterminate amount of time sneaking around Westview, trying to find your way back to the street where Vision lived, you’d finally done it. It might’ve taken days, or maybe it’d only been hours. It was so hard to tell here.

One minute it was spontaneously Halloween. The next, the entire layout of the town kept shifting around you until you were completely lost. But you’d made it.

As much as you’d wanted to go straight to find Peter, you knew you couldn’t do it on your own. You didn’t know how to counteract the witch’s powers. Vision seemed to know something, though. He was your best chance.

Unfortunately, his house seemed to be deserted. From your hiding place, you couldn’t see any lights on, or any signs of movement. Maybe he was at work? You’d waited this long already; you figured you might as well stay put until he came home.

And just as you’d decided on that course of action, the sound of breaking glass erupted from the neighbor’s house. The attic window shattered outward, and two people crashed through it, landing on the lawn.

One of them – a woman you hadn’t seen before – stuck a perfect three-point-landing more or less facing your direction. The second – a man – didn’t land nearly as gracefully, but still seemed unhurt. You couldn’t see his face, but you were certain it had to be Peter.

He stood, moving as though to cut off the woman’s escape route. He gestured for the woman to get up.

“I can do this all day, babe!” he called.

Scowling, the woman straightened up, dusting herself off and clearly getting ready for round two. The witch was nowhere in sight. Maybe you’d have a better chance of getting through to Peter if he was on his own. You scrambled out of hiding.

“Peter!” you shouted.

Confused, they both turned to look your way. You didn’t have a chance to say anything more before Peter sped over to you – and you just then noticed how weirdly slow he was moving. Instead of almost appearing to teleport, he was a visible blur that your gaze could follow as it approached you.

Peter stopped directly in front of you. He smiled.

“Hey again,” he said, and cheerfully threw you halfway down the block.

You landed hard, skidding another yard or so before coming to a stop. You thanked your lucky stars that you’d landed on somebody’s lawn, not on the pavement. When the hell had Peter gotten superhuman strength, anyway?

As you sat up, the woman ran to your side.

“Are you alright?” she asked, casting a wary glance back towards Peter, who was strolling casually towards you both.

“I’m okay,” you said. You were winded, and you could tell already that you’d added some new scrapes and bruises to your growing collection, but it didn’t seem like you’d been hurt.

“Captain Rambeau,” she introduced herself, offering a brisk handshake.

“You can call me Ace,” you said, “I’m… a friend.”

“Of his?” The captain raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“Yeah, well, he’s not exactly himself at the moment.”

Peter had stopped a ways away from you. You weren’t sure why he didn’t try to attack again.

“You called him ‘Peter,’” said Captain Rambeau. “Is that his real name?”

You nodded.

“Listen, ladies, if you wanted to make this a threesome, all you had to do was ask!” Peter called.

“And I’m guessing that’s not his real personality,” said the captain, catching sight of your disgusted expression.

“Not remotely,” you said.

The captain shrugged. “Well, guess we know what Agnes is into. The witch,” she explained. “The one who’s controlling him.”

“Why’s he just standing there?” you asked. You weren’t opposed to getting a second to breathe, but it was weird.

“I think he’s just supposed to stop us from getting to Wanda,” she said.

At that point, you hadn’t the faintest idea who Wanda was or how she was part of this whole mess, but you figured you could ask later. As you looked over at Captain Rambeau, you noticed her eyes glowing an unearthly blue. That was… unexpected.

“It’s that necklace,” she said. “That’s how Agnes is controlling him. If we can find some way to break it… But he’s too fast.”

Fast? Maybe by normal human standards, but he was moving at a crawl compared to his usual speed. Wait. That was it.

Your abilities didn’t work well in this world, but maybe they’d be more effective against something from your own world.

“Listen,” you said. “I think I can slow him down for you, if you think you can get that necklace. Act like you’re going to make a break for it, and when he tries to go past me, I’ll catch him.”

Captain Rambeau nodded, and took off down the street. Peter immediately gave chase.

Back home, Peter was far too fast for you to ever catch. But here, with him moving like he was running through quicksand? You might actually stand a chance.

You took a deep breath, reaching out. You felt a familiar resonance, and the sensation of something setting like a fishhook.

Peter slammed to a halt like he’d hit a brick wall. He paused for a moment, seemingly confused. He tried to run, but only managed a casual jog. It was working.

Then Peter turned back towards you, his expression something between furious and impressed. Your arm began to shake as you felt him struggling against you.

You really hoped this Captain Rambeau wasn’t going to leave you hanging.

“Well, looks like you’re good for something after all, huh, babe?” he said, strolling towards you.

“Peter would know,” you said, trying to keep his focus on you. “I don’t just break the laws of reality. I can enforce them, too.”

Peter sighed, shaking his head. “I really wish you weren’t complicating things so much. You could’ve just walked away, but-”

At that moment, Captain Rambeau dashed in, grabbing hold of the necklace and tearing it from Peter’s throat.

With a gasp, Peter’s smug expression shifted into a look of horrified panic. He looked at his hands like he was shocked he could move them. Then his gaze snapped back to you.

Your name – your real name – burst from his lips in a strangled cry. He rushed towards you, but stopped short, eyes widening as he took in the state of you.

“Oh, God… What did I-?”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you said. “I’m okay.”

You took his hands, and for a second you were worried that he was going to collapse.

Peter shook his head vehemently. “But you’re hurt!”

“Are you kidding?” you said. “Raven’s kicked my ass worse than this in training.”

Which was a lie, but at that point, you would’ve said just about anything to calm him down. It seemed to work, but only just.

“You’re here,” he said. His voice was quieter now. “You’re actually here.”

“Of course I’m here,” you said. “I came to bring you home.”

That wild look hadn’t left Peter’s eyes as they stared into yours. Gently, you took his face in your hands. At your touch, his eyes closed, and his head bowed just a little. You moved closer, pressing your forehead to his. He laid his hands on yours. His shaky breathing began to grow steadier.

Before either of you could say anything else, you were interrupted be the honking of a car horn.

Or rather, a funnel cake truck horn, to be exact. The driver – a bespectacled brunette – leaned her head out the window.

“As adorable as this is – and hi, by the way,” she called, “I think we’ve got bigger problems right now.”

Peter blinked rapidly, trying to pull himself together. He turned to Captain Rambeau.

“She’s right. Those kids are in danger. We have to do something. I’ll explain everything later,” he said, looking back at you, clearly distressed. “You’re already hurt. Just… stay safe until we get this under control, okay? Please.”

It killed you to think of letting Peter out of your sight after you’d only just gotten him back, but you nodded. You didn’t know what was going on or what kids were in danger, but you and Peter were X-Men. The safety of civilians always came first.

“It looks like they were headed downtown, Darcy,” Captain Rambeau called back to the driver. “Take Ace and follow us there, alright?”

With one last backward glance, Peter took off after Captain Rambeau.

As quickly as you were able, you climbed into the passenger side of the truck, smiling awkwardly at the driver as she put it back in gear and started off.

“Dr. Darcy Lewis,” she introduced herself, side-eying you. “Not the kind of doctor you clearly need, though. Sorry.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said. There was silence for a moment.

“So…” she said, “You and fake Pietro, huh?”

“His name is Peter,” you said, “But, yeah. I came to rescue him. We’re… not from around here.”

You were honestly too tired to explain more than that, but Dr. Lewis seemed to accept that explanation.

“Well, it’s not the first time I’ve met people who aren’t from around here.” She shrugged. “You ever heard of Thor? God of Thunder? He’s a friend of mine. Nice guy; great muscles.”

She said it so casually. Any other time, you would’ve thought this woman was nuts. But after time in Westview? Her claims didn’t sound that outlandish.

“Huh. Nice.” You nodded, impressed. Then, “This is gonna sound like a stupid question, but, uh… Who’s Wanda?”

Dr. Lewis gaped at you incredulously for a moment.

“Oh, boy…” she sighed.

Dr. Lewis gave you the rundown on the whole situation, and frankly? It was a lot. Parts of it – stuff about Avengers and Infinity Stones and snaps and blips – didn’t make any sense to you. But you did manage to grasp some of the more immediately relevant bits. Namely:

Wanda was immensely powerful. She had a twin brother named Pietro who – like your Peter – had superhuman speed, and who had died saving lives, leaving Wanda completely alone in the world.

Vision was apparently some sort of android, and also technically dead…?

But some real piece of work named Hayward had recreated a brainwashed zombie version of Vision and brought it to life using Wanda’s powers, and he was now trying to kill Wanda to cover up his crimes.

How the witch named Agnes and her kidnapping and mind-controlling Peter played into this, Dr. Lewis wasn’t entirely sure.

“Finally!” she said, apropos of nothing. “I swear, Wanda must’ve changed the whole layout of the town. The center is just up ahead.”

There was some sort of commotion overhead, and on the ground, too. Two young boys (probably the kids Peter had mentioned) stood in the street, facing down some military-looking types.

You and Dr. Lewis both shouted in alarm as one man pulled out a handgun and aimed it directly at the kids. From around the corner, Captain Rambeau and Peter ran in, and –

Shots rang out. You could only watch in horror as the man opened fire.

The strange blue blur that was Peter struggled to catch and redirect as many as he could, but it wasn’t enough. Two rounds tore through Captain Rambeau’s midsection, but…

You were still too far away to see exactly what happened, but Captain Rambeau seemed to glow, or phase out of sight for a second, and then she straightened up – unharmed. One of the boys raised his hand, evidently catching the single bullet that had gotten past Peter and the captain.

The man – Hayward, judging by the doctor’s lurid swearing – threw down his gun and hurried to climb back into his vehicle.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Dr. Lewis said under her breath. “Ace, hang onto something.”

“What are you- Oh, shit!”

You grabbed the door to brace yourself as Dr. Lewis gunned it down the street. Before Hayward could begin to make his escape, the funnel cake truck slammed into the side of his Humvee, pinning him inside.

Hayward turned, glaring daggers at Dr. Lewis.

“Have fun in prison,” she said cheerily.

You know what? You take it all back. Dr. Lewis was, in fact, kinda nuts. It was still a pretty badass move, though.

As steam began trickling from the truck’s busted radiator, Dr. Lewis unfastened her seatbelt.

“Well, looks like this thing’s not going anyplace, and neither is he,” she said, nodding at Hayward. “We might as well – I dunno – see if we can help or something.”

As you followed her lead, you heard Peter shouting: “How was that in any way ‘staying safe?’”

“Yeah, well, that’s what seatbelts are for,” Dr. Lewis called back. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”

Peter was there beside the truck as you stepped down out of it. You shifted your weight experimentally onto your injured leg, and let out a strangled yelp. Okay, bad idea. Peter immediately looped your arm around his shoulders and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Lean on me, lean on me,” he said, “I got you.”

You fought the impulse to collapse against him completely. You’d spent… days? You didn’t know how long – scrambling and searching and breaking out of hospitals and hiding in hedges just to get back to him. You just wanted to hold him and sleep for at least a week.

But the whole business wasn’t over yet. As Peter helped you limp around the truck, you saw that there was another man standing by the kids and Captain Rambeau, talking to Dr. Lewis. He skin was an unnatural shade of red (was that face paint or something?), and he was wearing this strange caped costume. Catching sight of Peter, the man’s eyes narrowed.

“No, it’s okay,” said Dr. Lewis. “He’s cool. He’s with us now.”

The man didn’t seem convinced. His gaze shifted to you, and he tilted his head curiously.

“Ace?” he said.

You blinked. “Vision?”

The voice was the same. The eyes, too. You wouldn’t have recognized him otherwise. He was the only friendly face you’d seen in this place. You couldn’t help but smile at seeing him again. Still, you remembered what Dr. Lewis had said – you’re talking to a ghost.

“Do you two know each other?” asked Dr. Lewis.

“We met, briefly,” you said, “When I first got into town. I’m glad you’re alright.”

“So, the friend you were looking for…?” Vision inclined his head inquiringly towards Peter.

You nodded. Peter waved, letting out a stilted, rueful laugh.

“Your children…?” you asked, gesturing to the boys.

Vision put his arms around them both, a proud smile brightening his worried expression.

“My children,” he said, “And… up there is my wife.”

As one, the whole group looked up to the two women still locked in combat above you.

Captain Rambeau frowned. “Can’t we do something?”

“I tried,” said Vision, “But it seems that Wanda wants to finish this on her own terms, unaided.”

The others kept worried eyes on the proceedings, but Peter turned his attention back to you, helping you to sit down on a nearby bench. He knelt in front of you.

“Scale of one to ten,” he said, “How worried should I be?”

“One,” you said. “I’ll be fine. I don’t think anything’s broken, so I’m calling that a win.”

“Hmm, nope. Still worried. Less dire question – why is everybody calling you ‘Ace?’”

“The professor said not to tell anybody my real name,” you said. “There was no way of knowing what I was walking into. We didn’t think we should tell anyone too much.”

“Oh…” Peter’s mouth twisted into a guilty grimace. “I kinda told Monica everything when we were running over here.”

Red light flashed blindingly above you, drawing your attention upwards.

[The battle proceeds as in canon, ending with Agatha’s defeat.]

Wanda turned back to the others, smiling. The boys ran to hug her, and Vision was close behind. You were too far away to hear what was being said, but at Vision’s words, Wanda’s smile faded. Putting their arms around each other, the family walked a little ways down the street.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

Peter shook his head. A pained expression crossed Captain Rambeau’s face. She closed her eyes, turning away.

“This Vision was never real to begin with,” said Dr. Lewis, her tone oddly solemn. “I think he’s saying goodbye.”

At that, she, too, turned away. Whatever passed between Wanda, Vision, and their children – their farewell wasn’t for prying eyes to watch.

Peter seized your hand and leaned his forehead against your shoulder. You bowed your head over his, closing your eyes. After a moment, you felt something pass over you.

It was that same feeling of overwhelming grief that’d struck you when you first entered Westview, but you understood it now. If you had lost Peter – truly lost him, for good – you imagined that it’d feel something like that.

It only lasted a second, though. In its wake, everything felt brighter, colder.

When you looked up, you cast an uncertain glance back down the main street. There stood Wanda and her children.

Vision was nowhere to be seen.

Wanda pressed her hands to her mouth and slowly sank to her knees. The boys knelt beside her, crying openly, and she pulled them close.

Your heart broke to see them, and you turned away again. It felt wrong to intrude on their grief, even from a distance. Westview had changed. The town seemed faded and dull, somehow desaturated.

Peter had changed, too. His hair was silver again, instead of that strange dirty-blond shade, and his clothes were the same ones he’d been wearing when he was taken.

“You’re all yourself again,” you said.

Peter looked down at himself in surprise. His eyes widened, and he frantically felt his pockets before letting out a sigh of relief. Something about him looked too bright for your pale surroundings. Maybe it was the fact that neither of you belonged to that world, or maybe it was the fact that you were so damn glad to have him back.

Or it might’ve been that this was the first time you’d seen him smile since he was freed from the witch’s control. You leaned in and kissed him.

“God, I missed you,” he said.

Before he could say anything else, another conversation interrupted him.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Dr. Lewis was saying. “I was just trying to keep him from getting away.”

She and Captain Rambeau surveyed the dented Humvee in which Hayward was still trapped.

“Well, we’re gonna have to get him out of there somehow,” said the captain.

“Can’t you do some sorta…” Dr. Lewis extended her arms, wiggling her fingers in the direction of the vehicle, “Now?”

Captain Rambeau laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Darcy.”

Suddenly, the former funnel cake truck lurched. With a strained metallic groan, it was dragged slowly back and away from the Humvee, leaving just enough space for someone to hypothetically get through and apprehend Hayward.

“What the-?”

Captain Rambeau turned to look back towards you and Peter, or rather, to the street behind you. You caught Peter’s eye just before turning to look yourself, and smiled. Of course.

Peter’s eyes widened again. “Dad?”

“Professor?” you exclaimed.

You might’ve expected Mr. Lehnsherr to come after Peter when he found out what’d happened, but you certainly didn’t expect to see him standing on the main street of Westview with Professor Xavier at his side. Peter stood up, but anything he might’ve said was cut off – once again – by Dr. Lewis.

“Hey, cheekbones!” she called out. “Nice one.”

Upon realizing that he was the one being addressed with that remark, Mr. Lehnsherr gave her a perplexed smile and lowered his arm. But his expression turned serious again at the sound of approaching sirens.

“It’s okay,” said Captain Rambeau. “Agent Woo is with is. I’ll talk to him.”

She and Dr. Lewis went to meet the approaching vehicles, while Mr. Lehnsherr and the professor moved quickly towards you.

“Are you two alright?” the professor asked.

“We’re fine,” you said.

“I’m fine,” Peter corrected. “You can barely walk.”

The professor’s brows furrowed in concern. “I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

“I’m glad you did, though” you said frankly. “I wouldn’t wish this experience on anybody.”

Peter turned his attention to Mr. Lehnsherr, eyeing him with an expression that seemed a little incredulous, but pleased.

“So. you really came all the way from Genosha for me?” he said.

“I heard you’d been abducted to another reality; of course I came back. Something this ridiculous could only happen to you, Peter,” said Mr. Lehnsherr. Then his expression softened, “I’m glad you’re alright, son.”

“What happened here, exactly?” asked the professor, as he surveyed the street.

“Well, my perspective on events might be kinda limited, but you can see for yourself.”

You leaned towards the professor slightly, offering your thoughts. He touched your temple, and that odd dreamlike sensation washed over your mind as he sifted through your memories of Westview. You were glad you’d asked Dr. Lewis to explain things to you. Maybe the professor could glean more meaning from the story than you’d been able to.

When you opened your eyes, the professor looked pensive, and no less concerned.

“I think it’s high time we get the two of you home,” he said.

“Not that I want to distrust government agents,” said Mr. Lehnsherr, keeping a wary eye on Hayward’s arrest in progress, “But I’m inclined to agree with Charles.”

Peter frowned hesitantly. His gaze had drifted to Wanda and her sons.

“Just… give me one minute, alright?” he said. “There’s something I wanna say first.”

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff fanfiction #wandavision fanfic #those moments when you ask yourself ‘how do I keep this oc out of the way to preserve canon?’#I also had to give you a nickname/code name to get around using the y/n placeholder XP #just shouting into the void

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abbyandersonbicep · 4 years

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REQUEST TIME!! Forever and Always by Parachute with my baby Wanda. Or Nat. Or both. You choose. Thank you Pauli ✨💕

A/N i really hope you enjoy this, it was so much fun to write!!💞i tried my best to follow the song

Wandanat x reader

„Miss Romanoff has arrived back from her mission, she is going to surgery in this moment” Fridays voice echoed trough the halls of the Avengers complex.

Your mind instantly wandering off to a state of worry, looking over at Wanda you could see she was just as worried as you.

Arriving in the med bay, Steve was already waiting for the two of you.

„What happened to her?” you rushed out already on your way into the little room with a window attached to the surgery room.

Feeling a hand on your arm, holding you back from entering the room.

„You won’t wanna see this” Steve told you, worry visible in his eyes.

Looking up at your other girlfriend, tears forming in your eyes, she pressed a comforting kiss to your forehead, even if she was just as worried about your lover as you were.

„Steve what happened?” the brunette asked the soldier

„There was a trap in the basement with the files, the building collapsed on us, I’m sorry I did everything in my power to get us out as soon as possible” he said, his words holding sincerity

„What did the doctors say?” your hand finding your girlfriends lacing your fingers together, giving her hand a squeeze.

„A few broken ribs, a concussion, internal bleedings and a bullet wound, but she is gonna be okay” he explained

Taking in a shaky breath, you nodded, hearing a small “thank you” coming from your girlfriend.

Pacing up and down the hallway, you waited for Natasha to come out of surgery. Wanda sat on the small couch, in her own thoughts, from time to time checking on you, knowing that your own thoughts could overwhelm you sometimes.

Getting tired you sat next to the brunette, carefully cuddling into her, your head finding its place on her shoulder, drifting of to a light sleep.

Your slumber didn’t last for long, being soon awoken by Wanda telling you that Nat was out of surgery.

Taking her hand and dragging her towards your girlfriends room.

The sight of your shared girlfriend broke your heart, seeing machines attached to her small frame, cuts and bruises all over her body.

She was still sleeping and probably would be for a while, but knowing that she was alive and breathing on her own was enough to calm your nerves a little bit.

Both of you sitting down on each side of your injured girlfriend, Wanda pressed a small kiss on her cheek, while you took her surprisingly soft hand, gently playing with her fingers, careful not to hurt her.

With the steady beeping of the heart monitor your sleepy self returned rather quickly, causing you to lay your head down onto the bed next to the redhead, drifting off once again.

By the time you awoke it was dark out, the room lit up by only the moon shining outside of the window, glowing onto your lovers, letting their features appear even softer than usual.

Leaning over pushing a hair strand out of Wandas face behind her ear, pressing a soft kiss to Natasha’s head.

Moving over to the windows, trying to open one without waking up your two sleeping girlfriends.

Your eyes still feeling heavy you let your lungs take in the fresh air of the night, your hand finding the small necklace that you three shared, Wanda had gotten these for all of you on your one years anniversary with the promise she’ll love you “forever and always”

...”forever and always” you mumbled the words a small smile on your lips, glancing over at the sleeping figures of your partners.

Pulling your chair over to the opened window, your eyes wondering over the clear night sky, taking in all the stars and occasional clouds.

You sat there for hours, just thinking and watching the sun rise slowly, lighting up the small forest behind the compound.

You were so mesmerised by what was happening outside at the moment, that you didn’t hear Natasha slowly waking up, a small cough ripping you from your trance.

Immediately making your way over to the redhead, reaching for a cup of water on the way

„Hey, baby take it easy” you whispered to her as she sat up reaching for the water in your hands, gulping it down in a few breaths, as you soothingly ran your hand across her back.

Propping up the pillows against the headboard, so she could sit up comfortable, you pulled your chair next to her bed taking her hand in your, your fingers tracing the small cuts and bruises.

„How are you feeling ?” you questioned quietly, not to wake up the brunette who was still sleeping

„Groggy, i wonder how much drugs they pumped into me” she groaned

„Considering how long you slept, many” you chuckled at her.

A soft huff coming from the other side of the bed, announcing that Wanda was waking up too.

Lifting her head, looking around confused about where she was, noticing Natasha sat up a relieved smile appeared on her face.

„Thank god you’re okay” Wandas voice softening, kissing Natashas head, careful not to hurt her.

Helping Nat change into her own clothes, so she could be more comfortable.

Helping her lay down again, she suddenly looked guilty

„My necklace broke” the redhead mumbled, guilt visible in her eyes

„Hey it’s okay, no need to feel bad about this baby, stuff like that happens” Wanda was quick to calm your girlfriends nerves.

„Yeah accidents happen, it’s not your fault” you added squeezing Natashas hand.

„Do you still have it?” Wanda asked

„Of course” she handed Wanda the broken jewellery.

Letting her powers lift the pieces in the air, the red mist swirling around them forming a small ring, slipping it on the redheads finger

„See all good” Wanda smiled

Natasha took a closer look at the ring, the small stone that was once on the necklace was now resting on top of the small silver band, which still had the structure the necklace once had.

„it’s beautiful thank you” she said

„forever and always right “ the brunette smiled at the both of you.

tags: @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @marvels-writings @dynnealberto

#wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x natasha #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Thin Line

Summary: You’re wild and free. She’s strict and trained. You and Natasha are polar opposites and it drives her crazy. Each move you make annoys her to no end. But, there’s a thin line between annoyance and adoration.

Rating: 18+ Violence, Language, Blood, Death, and Smut.

Chapter 7

The amount of silence in the compound the last couple of days made you want to scream. It took all of one day to completely change the dynamic of the Avengers.

You all had been a family, you being the newest member. You can’t remember a day when there wasn’t laughter in the air and conversation flowing freely. And now you’re struggling to hold on to those very memories.

You haven’t seen Steve or Sam since the day the Accords were brought to you apart from avoiding the tension, he was in London for Peggy’s funeral, Tony stops by every once in a while to check on things(mainly you and Wanda), and Natasha is in and out of everyday, working with Tony and the Government to get the Accords all squared away.

Today is the signing of the Accords. Natasha asked you to go with her to represent the Avengers and you agreed, also agreeing to pay your respects to Agent Carter. She was a hero in every way that mattered and while you had never had the privilege to meet her, S.H.I.E.L.D and Steve told you everything you needed to know.

“Well don’t you clean up nicely.”

Your eyes scan your body in the mirror, taking in the simple black pant suit and white button up, before turning around to face Natasha. She’s in a matching black skirt suit, the top open just enough to make you fantasize.

“As do you Miss Romanoff.” You smile softly.

She steps closer to you, fingers smoothing down the collar of your jacket, hands resting on your hips after,“ you don’t have to come to the funeral with me you know.”

“No I want to. Pay my respects and to be there for Steve. He’s my friend and we’ve been divided enough lately, I’d like to stand with him for this at least.”

An adoring smile crosses her face, the emotion flooding her eyes as well, before she’s pulling you with her to leave.

It’s as your passing Wanda’s room that you stop Natasha,“ go ahead, I’ll meet you at the jet in a second.”

She raises her eyebrow at you but you only smile and press a small kiss to her forehead. As she walks away, you knock on Wanda’s door, waiting for the soft ‘come in’ before you enter.

Wanda sits on her bed, eyes staring out the one sided window, knees pulled up to her chest. She looks over at you as you come in.

“You’re leaving?” You take in the sadness in her green eyes and the hidden fear.

It’s almost enough to make you change your mind. Go throw on some sweats and a t-shirt and just bake with her all day and watch movies until she’s smiling.

But you know it’ll be easier to keep her safe if you’re on the government’s side than if you’re against them.

“Uh, yeah. The um, the signing is in Vienna tomorrow.” You tell her, walking over and sitting on the bed beside her.

She hesitates, but ends up moving to the spot beside you.

“Y/N, be honest, do you think everything is going to be okay?”

Lying to her is not in the slightest an option. But the truth is you don’t know.

“Everything, no, not at all.” Her shoulders instantly drop at your words and her almost broken expression hurts you.“ And I don’t know if the whole team will be okay either but you know what I do know?”

“What?” Teary eyes look into yours.

You give the most reassuring smile you can,“ I know that I’m always gonna be here for you Wanda. It’s a lot to promise but I’m gonna do everything I can to keep you safe.”

“I don’t think keeping me safe is what the government wants from you. It’s probably the opposite.”

She’s scared. Not just of the government and what these Accords mean, but of herself. It’s why she hasn’t decided on signing or not. She doesn’t know what to do because signing allows the government to do whatever they want to her and not signing means she could hurt more people.

You squat in front of her to catch her down trodden eyes, hands grabbing hers and holding them,“ I don’t give a damn what the government wants, you’re my friend and if it comes down to protecting you and fighting them I’m on your side, no questions. You are not the monster people want you to think you are Wanda.”

Her eyes widen in the slightest at your words and she finds nothing but conviction in your eyes.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Cause I know you silly,” she smiles a little,“ you are one of the most compassionate, selfless, hopeful people I know. Yes there have been some accidents but those don’t define who you are and I’ll be damned if I let you believe that they do.”

In the blink of an eye Wanda throws herself into a hug with you, using her powers to keep you from falling.

You wrap your arms around her and squeeze,“ I’ll be back in no time so whatever you bake, you better save me some.”

She laughs but it’s watery. She’s getting choked up cause you both know, you both feel, that things aren’t going to be okay. But you try, as you squeeze her one last time, to reassure her, even if you aren’t sure yourself.

“I’m holding you to that.” She whispers, eyes lingering on you long after you’ve disappeared from her room.

*******

You sit through the funeral beside Natasha on the second floor balcony, away from everyone else, but still able to see everyone.

After the funeral’s done you and Nat wait around for Steve. Sam gone.

You let them talk alone for a moment, only approaching when they both look your way. Natasha’s telling him where you two are going and telling him the status of the team’s decision.

“Just because it's the path of least resistance doesn't mean it's the wrong path. Staying together is more important than how we stay together.”

You watch her as she speaks and you see the hesitance in her eyes. Her words aren’t just for Steve, she’s trying to convince herself as well. But you thought she had already been convinced.

“What are we giving up to do it?” His blue eyes look from Nat’s to yours.“ I'm sorry, guys. I can't sign it.”

“We know.” Natasha tells him.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“We’re still your friends Stevie,” you offer a comforting smile,“ we didn't want you to be alone.”

Steve’s eyes soften and his body visibly sags.

“Come here.” Natasha pulls him into a hug.

You two don’t leave Steve’s side until Sam comes back, even then they walk you two to the jet.

“Hey,” he stops, gently grabbing your arm.

Watching Natasha walk into the jet with Sam right beside her, talking about whatever.

“Sup Cap’n.”

Steve shakes his head, laughing a little,“ I just wanted to thank you for coming, despite everything.”

“Look, I meant what I said. You’re my friend and if you need me, I’m here for you.”

“I know.” He’s quiet for a moment, glancing at Natasha,“ so you and Romanoff.”

Your eyes widen. It’s not a question, he knows.

“You two- you’re good for each other.”

Since there’s no use in lying, you smile at the red head,“ she’s the greatest, most unexpected thing that’s ever happened to me. I love her.” You admit for the first time ever.

As if knowing that, Steve smiles sweetly at you, that all american boy, charming as ever, smile.“ She loves you too. Just be patient with her.”

“Y/N, we should go.”

You and Natasha leave with a final hug to Steve and Sam.

It had become a thing for Natasha to sit in your arms during long flights, as she does after she’s changed clothes for the signing.

You’re both quiet for a while, lost in your heads. Natasha breaks the silence, asking,“ what did you and Wanda talk about this morning?”

Of course she knows you spoke to Wanda.

“All this craziness. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Which was kind of stupid now that I think about it. Of course she isn't, I don’t think anyone is.”

She eases even closer to you, allowing you to tighten your hold on her,“ I have my moments when everything is okay even if it really isn’t.”

You bite your lip, hopefully asking,“ would those moments have anything to do with little ole me?’

“Every last one of them.”

Not being able to fight your cheesy grin, you hide your face in Natasha’s neck, placing kisses there and up her jawline.

She laughs and throws her head back, long red hair falling over your shoulder, and slightly tickling your cheek.

It would be so easy to tell her you love her. This particular moment almost makes you slip and say it.

That smile and laugh of hers makes your heart pound and, admittedly, gives you butterflies.

“Be my girlfriend.”

You’re asking but you feel so sure about wanting this that it comes off a bit like a command.

Natasha stops laughing but her smile remains, even as she turns to hide it from you,“ you never cease to surprise me.” She hums.

“Well I’m nothing if not spontaneous. But more than that I’m crazy about you Romanoff and I know the timing could one hundred percent be better, but I want you to be mine. Officially.” You kiss her cheek.

“If I say yes what’s in it for me?”

You gasp, leaning back in the slightest,“ you get me. My charm and spontaneity.”

She scoffs,“ you’d give me that regardless.”

“You get it times, like, a million. Plus you get my unconditional adoration, which is a lot more than other people can say. On top of all that you get the weighted obligation of laughing at all my lame ass jokes, which is a responsibility that I believe, only you can handle.”

Turning around to look in your y/e/c eyes, she nods,“ it is a difficult task, but I’m more than willing to take it on.”

“Yeah?” A smile plays at the corner of your lips, just waiting to turn into a full grin.

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend, though, I’m pretty sure I already was.”

Rolling your eyes, you pull her into a kiss, your hand cupping the back of her neck.

“You better not break my heart Y/L/N,” she murmurs against your lips.

"Wouldn’t dream of it Pretty Girl.”

*******

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