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MIDNIGHT VISITOR - (Red-Stained Fangs 2)

Pairing: Vampire!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: What happens when a breathtaking, dangerous vampire realizes that she's obsessed with you? Nothing good.

Warnings: Dark!Fic ; Top!Reader x Powerbottom!Natasha Romanoff ; Strap-on use; oral sex ; oral sex on strap-on; Daddy kink; slight mommy kink? ; mentions of murder (no character death) ; heavy blood mentions/ blood drinking/bleeding ; toxic relationship ; dub-con elements ; possessive dynamics; manipulation

A/N: Ok besties this hoe is pretty dark so be prepared. I listened to the Killing Eve soundtrack while writing this so... I am claiming no responsibility for when your therapists ask you why you want Nat to murder you

Word Count: 6k

Dedicated to my bestie @twilight-99-tm for just bein the best and being so patient with my constant cursed ideas, and also betaing this monstrosity

I have sharp teeth inside my mouth,

inside my dark red lips,

And lacquer slickly hides the claws

In my red fingertips.

- Angela Carter ‘Unicorn’

Moonlight converges on Natasha in an alleyway in the city. A place empty, and hollow, with the deceptive echoes of voices nearby bouncing on the walls. The man she follows does not quicken his steps. He doesn’t even know he needs to. He is fatally unaware that he should be running.

No one suspects her. No one could ever think she was as dangerous as she was.

Or as monstrous.

Her beauty is a beguiling of the worst kind.

A gentle, innoxious beckoning.

The false promise of safety. The lamb in a snare, pleading for help. An innocent, lost and confused, and a stranger is her only hope of salvation.

Until she is not the lamb, but the wolf. She is not the innocent, but the danger. And before they can blink, she moves.

They never see it coming.

They only realise what she is when the ground turns red.

……….

The body beneath her twitched, the throes of death just past. If you saw her like this, you wouldn't recognize her. Red hair wild, unkempt from effort and scuffle, fangs sunken into flesh, irises a bloody crimson, a sinister shine in the moonlight. The threat of promised execution in the darkness.

Her fangs pierced deeper still, penetrating skin and tendon, muscle and artery.

And she drank.

Drank til her prey was dry.

Her body reacts despite itself, and the thought of you begins somewhere illicit in her mind.

A low thrum of anticipation settles in her core, thighs flexing as she stifles the ache, or hushes it, at least, until you were near.

To satisfy a hunger of a different breed.

Night always seemed the darkest when Natasha was heading home after feeding. Inky blackness above, a sky void of light, of all its stars, a cimmerian reflection of her soul. Of her thoughts. It’s not guilt. She has long since eradicated any semblance of that pitiful emotion over her eclectic appetites, the light in her preys’ eyes which once shone like a beacon in the back of her mind, now dulled to an imperceptible nothing. There is not a face, a soul she’s taken, that keeps her awake at night. She runs the tip of her tongue on her fangs, reminiscing in the fresh blood that covered them just an hour before. She is what she is, and she’s made peace with that.

What does give her pause though, is her immortality.

The slow, deceptive budding of a thousand years ahead of her, more even.

Days, months pass, and she figures herself normal. She lives like everyone else around her.

Then on occasion, she looks in the mirror and finds that she’s looked at the same face for five hundred years. She brings delicate hands to soft, cold lips, a face without flaw or wrinkle, eyes as green as the pines. Hair red, and full, never a sliver of grey, always resting under her shoulders blades since the rise and fall of the Tsars of Russia.

And suddenly, the budding sprouts, and she is being dragged under.

Infinity weighs on her shoulders. Time crests above her, seemingly endless, an ocean eternal. And the wave crashes and she fears she will drown in it. She fears that her life will go until there is no pleasure to be found in it, no pain, no sorrow, no happiness. The fear of emptiness. Emptiness disguised so wickedly as grandeur, as boon.

She hasn’t blinked in 4 minutes. Her fingers are crushing the steering wheel beneath her grip.

She is drowning in the wave.

And then her phone rings.

Baby❤ is calling.

The wave releases her, and she swims to shore.

“Hi, baby,” she breathes, an easy relief in her voice.

“Hey sweetheart.”

Though she tried to resist it, a smile bloomed on blood-stained cheeks, and she focused intently to the sound of your voice on the line. In this moment, nothing else mattered but you.

You, the one who was so achingly hers.

You continued, “I’ve been kinda missing you.”

Her brow ticks upward playfully, “Kinda? Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you know. Just a little.”

“And why should I not hang up on you?”

“Okay wait, wait, I wanna come over.”

Her smile widened, and she flexed her fingers on the wheel. Even after all this time, you still make her blush. Though she would never let you know that.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’m coming over.”

She laughed, pulling her lower lip into her mouth, dragging her teeth on it. She put on the most teasing voice she could muster, “I can’t wait, Daddy.”

The anticipation began climbing in her lower stomach when she heard your low, wicked chuckle pour through the line.

“Good girl.”

Oh, it was going to be a good night.

Natasha barely had time to wash the blood off her mouth when your headlights flashed through the dark curtains of her house. Her thighs were already shaking, already fatigued from being so painfully clenched together as she tamped down her substantial arousal for the better part of two hours. She ran her fingers through her hair, taking a last minute check in the mirror when the doorknob turned.

She held her breath as the thrill of your nearness flooded through her. She was always excited to see you. Then you finally stepped through the doorway, and she was unaware of how unsteady her legs have been since you’ve been gone. How a slow, enduring coil that had been winding tighter and tighter suddenly released when she saw you.

Her breath left her in a rush, and she smiled at you as you met her eyes. You beamed, putting down your bag and stepping forward when you noticed that very new, very tight dress she was wearing. Dark grey, encasing her like a second skin, the fabric so thin that you could see the ripple of muscle in her thighs, and across her torso.

Natasha preened under your lascivious gaze, reading every thought, everything you wanted to do to her as it was being written all over your face. She gently pushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing the column of her neck, and that ocean of cool, creamy skin. No jewellery to interrupt the flow of the eye, to draw your attention to anywhere that wasn’t her. You watched as her breaths deepened in concealed excitement, and for a moment you were the predator and she was your prey.

As you took her in, openly admired her, all she could think about was how good your touch felt against her skin, and how she couldn’t wait for you to get your hands on her again, so she could drown in your caress, and lose herself in your ample, intoxicating affections. And no matter how good her skin felt under your grip, no matter the low blossoming excitement when goosebumps flourished on her skin at your touch, it always felt better when she was against your lips, against your mouth.

“I missed you, Daddy,” she whispered, a confession that had been simmering in her for hours, finally bubbling over.

That kindled something in you. Broke you from your trance and you met her eyes again. Her cheeks burned with arousal, and she fidgeted where she stood.

Nothing has ever had this effect on her. In over 500 years, nothing enchants her - possesses her - like you do.

“I missed you too. I’ve been thinking about you, baby.” You advanced, and that deep thrill in her core spiked.

She struggled to restrain herself, struggled to respond. Her voice was eluding her.

“What have you been thinking about?” she finally managed to rasp out.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you. About how good you look when you’re bouncing on my lap.”

Nat ached so hard that it was almost painful, and she had the distinct feeling of emptiness between her thighs. Missing your length. Missing how perfectly you fit inside her. She swallowed, that familiar tension coiling tight in her gut. A warmth settled low, and she kept your gaze as steady as she could.

Until she noticed the telltale bulge under your jeans. It was ready and waiting for her beneath the fabric.

Her lips parted at the sight of it, a deep inhale building slow in her chest. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. She didn’t anticipate how badly she wanted it. How badly she wanted you.

…….

Two nights ago, you and Natasha didn’t even make it inside. You were standing outside her house, holding her leg up around your hip, your pants around your ankles, as you fucked her against the wall. Her arms wrapped like a vise around your shoulders, and her tongue was far down your throat as you thrusted frantic hips against her. She was whimpering at your appetence, your dominance, how you gripped her like there was nowhere you’d rather be, and nothing else you’d rather be doing.

Desperation escalated between you, the heat of your bodies pressed against each other in the cool night air. She remembered the thrill of it. The thrill of being caught. Of someone passing by and seeing you take her. Of someone knowing what you do to her, knowing that you own her, and she owns you.

She wanted them to see. She wanted them to see how good she was for you. How good she took your strap.

She remembered her high ascending, spilling over, and she pressed her mouth against yours hard, making you taste her orgasm, the way you made her feel. She remembered moaning into your mouth, clutching at your face so desperately as you made her cum around your cock.

The night didn’t end there.

…….

Your voice pulled her from her flashback.

You smirked at her. "I know that you're soaking through that pathetic excuse for underwear."

Her back straightened, and she flashed her teeth. "Who said I was wearing any?"

That perfectly aimed line did exactly what she wanted it to do. Your eyes darkened by shades, and you dragged them down from her face, to where her legs parted.

Her thighs flexed, heavy muscle clenching as you walked up to her. Her nerves were alight with excitement, every sense heightened as she tried to contain herself. To restrain what lurks. And soon, you were on her. Her legs parted on instinct, making space for you, letting you stake your claim on her body again, as you’ve done so many times already. In so many positions.

Strong hands reached down to cup her ass, and grip the considerable muscle, pulling her hips into you. You were teasing her. Making her chase your mouth. Making her grind her core on the strap concealed by your pants.

She was already hungry for it.

It was already too many seconds since you stepped through the door. It was too many hours since you last filled her. Too long since you pounded her into the mattress.

She was growing tired of the game.

….

2 years ago

The air was thick with spirits, and laughter, and cigarette smoke. Strobe lights and neon penetrated the darkness, and music pounded in her ears.

She remembers how oblivious you were. Sitting next to her in a grungy club, completely unaware of the fact that beneath that beautiful, soft pout, there were 2 inch fangs.

You didn't know that she could smell your blood as it rushed through your arteries. She could hear the sound of your heartbeat, of the way it picked up in pace when you looked at her. The way that despite the darkness of the room, she noticed every single detail on your face. Every detail down your neck.

You didn't even know creatures like her existed.

You were so naive. So delicious.

She couldn't wait to have you.

Her nails could be sharp, could slice into you, but she is a master of control. Of restraint. She rests her hand on your leg purposefully, gripping the heavy muscle and inching up, fragment by fragment to your upper thigh.

You followed the hand, and your heart pounded furiously. She was well aware. You made yourself look at her, and she poured desire into her expression.

"Take me home."

She knew this game too well.

…………

You couldn't help yourself. Her skin was an opiate against your lips, and she knew just how to combine the need and the pain to make you ravenous. You were starved for her, lips quivering with avarice.

She was pleading for your mouth, imploring for a taste of your tongue. And you granted it to her, slipping it between her lips and she sucked on you and moaned against you. Your reach descended, fingertips teasing low down that short, tight goddamn dress, and you slipped a bold hand between her legs.

Fuck, her arousal was dripping down her thighs.

You groaned at the feeling of it, and even more when she whined at your touch. You'd never wanted anyone more. Never wanted anything more than to make Natasha cum until her thighs were shaking and her voice was overused into nothing.

She clutched at your face with such desperation, grinding her front against the bulge of your strap hidden behind your pants. She was begging for it. Desperate for you. For that decadent, vulgar completion your strap offered.

She ran her hand down your shirt, hand flat against your stomach, instinct and hunger driving her direction. She found what she was looking for, fingers immediately gripping the dense length of the strap and enticing it from its concealment. You took her hands in yours, stilled their movement, and a low chuckle rumbled in your throat.

“Impatient thing, aren’t you, baby?”

“Shut up.”

Before you could retort, she pulled her hands from your grip, and was on her knees in front of you. Whatever you wanted to say died on your tongue. You don’t know how she kept eye contact with you as she undid your belt, giving you that look of pure wickedness, that corrupting, one-sided smile that could make you bring down the moon and give it to her. She knew what she was doing, too. Making a show of it. The teasing peek of her tongue through her teeth, before it slithered out, and wet those sinful, intoxicating lips.

Finally, she had the strap free, in her hands, and she kissed the tip of it. You didn’t know how your knees were still holding you up, but they did.

She took your strap into her mouth as far back as she could, her eyes twinkling like starlight from her position on her knees. You ran your fingers through her hair and she moaned for you, her hips starting a slow grind at your attention.

"You look so good like that, Nat."

Pointed nails dug into your thighs as she bobbed her head up and down the length of your strap, scraping down the back of your legs. She released it with a lewd pop, taking it in her hands, teasing, naughty, and slapped it on her tongue. You groaned, and that wicked smile returned on her face, the smirk of a woman who was getting exactly what she wanted.

You got her off her knees, and then, incensed in a moment of pure animal impetus, picked her up, and powerful legs immediately wrapped around your waist. She grabbed your face, kissing you, drinking your lust, and meeting your tongue with her own. With her arms wrapped around your shoulders, you pressed her back up against the wall, giving you leverage to position the toy that was in her mouth just seconds earlier.

“Do you like being a little tease, baby?”

Still supporting her with one hand, you took the other and rubbed the tip of the strap against her core, and her breath caught and fractured in her throat. She rolled her hips as hard as she could, anything to encourage your movement, anything to make you put it inside of her. Green irises blazed white-hot, boring into your eyes and she whispered against your lips.

“Please, Daddy. I’ll do anything. Just fuck me.”

Fuck, you could never say no to that.

“Is this what you want, baby?” You slapped the strap against her folds, and she winces and whines at its touch. "You think you deserve my cock?"

She whimpered, nails scraping through your shirt as she clutched at you.

"Yes, I fucking deserve it. Please-"

Without warning, a smirk plastered on your face and sated with her delicious begging, you slid the strap with tremendous ease into her, and she gasped against you, legs tightening like a vise around your hips. At your first thrust, her nails pressed harder and you heard the fabric of your shirt rip under her claws, but you were too occupied on the heaving breasts in front of you to care.

You craned your neck down, straining, desperate to bestow kisses onto her tits, and she pushed them up for you, as you licked and lathered the creamy, cool skin with your tongue. She mewled at the feeling of your mouth, overwhelmed with sensation, her whole body jerking with your thrusts, slow at first, and you switched your attentions to the side of her neck, licking up her throat, tasting the bare-metal hint of her sweat.

She was moaning now, whimpers from before stamped down to make room for the cresting pleasure in her dripping pussy. Your strap hammered in, deep, long strokes and Natasha couldn't hold on any tighter. She grabbed your face, wrenching you free from your attention on her neck and pressed her mouth onto yours, forcing her tongue between your lips.

Nat's moans muffled into your kiss, you held her tighter and thrusted harder, faster, till those moans turned into choked whines, and her body stiffened up, pussy clenching around your strap as you delivered her first orgasm. She released your mouth, pulling away in a silent scream, eyes shut tight as your thrusts started to slow.

"Fuck, baby," she hissed, kissing your shoulders and your neck, her legs relaxing by leagues as she panted.

"You took me so well, sweetheart," you whispered, holding her up again and walking her to bed.

You put her down on the bed gently, your precious thing, marvelling at the way her thighs shook, and the green returned to her eyes. She smirked at you as you undressed, moving to help you, but you laid a steady hand on her stomach.

"Oh no, love. You're going to get out of that tight little dress before I tear it off you. You don't want that, do you?"

She shook her head, obedient, and began to unzip the side of her dress as you had finally rid yourself of your own clothes.

You could see the anticipation in her fingers as they shivered, her eyes on you, watching your every movement, flicking between the mischievous grin that had found itself on your face, to the way the strap teased her as it sat attached to your hips.

Legs pressed against the mattress, you leaned forward, hovering over Natasha, both arms on either side of her. She held her breath, patient, waiting to see what you were going to do, eager to please. Eager to be used.

You bent lower, and pressed your lips to the skin between her breasts, kissing a line lower and lower until you were right above her mound. Her breaths were coming faster now, her hands clutching, knuckles white with her grip on the sheets. You looked up at her and tilted your head in faux question.

Her eyes flashed red, and you smirked.

"You know what I want, Y/N," she snarled, frustration swelling in her voice.

"And what's that?"

Defiance and need swirled in her eyes, and she raised her hand, reaching for you.

"To cum on your tongue."

Before you could respond, she clutched at you, grabbing your jaw, and you knew the powers had shifted in your encounter, as they always do. She held you firmly, demanding, and pushed you flat onto your back in the bed. Want is a powerful beast, and in Natasha, it was untenable. But God, you enjoyed it. You loved how much she wanted you. How much she desired you. How much you could see it in everything she did.

She loves you. So much so, that in the beginning, it scared you. But now, you’re drunk on her.

You grab at her hips, eager, excited, aching to put your mouth on her, and she glimmers at your anticipation. Straddling your torso, she inches up, and you can’t help the way your mouth waters. Your arms wrap around her thighs and you pull her down, so she can finally rest herself onto your mouth.

As soon as your tongue presses against her clit, she keens, and trembling fingers find purchase in your hair. Her hips buck wild, and your tongue flattens and rubs against sensitive flesh, too far gone to tease. Too hungry for dalliance. Your lips wrap around her clit and suck, gentle at first, and then harder, and she moans, eyes pinned shut, her body quaking above you. Strong hands steady her position and your eyes are locked onto that beautiful face, moaning against her pussy at the addictive, intoxicating taste of her.

“Right there,” she sobs out, and her hands grip harder in your hair, almost painful, as you continue your ministrations.

“Yes right there, Y/N, I’m going to cum,” she whines, and you feel the unmistakable twitching of her pussy against your tongue.

Nat’s body locks above you, her eyes blinking open and vermillion raging in her irises, and suddenly your tongue is covered in her, as she screams out. You chuckle against her core, and she moves downwards, bending at the waist so she can taste herself on your mouth. You happily oblige, and she smiles gently against your lips.

When she pulls away, she brings her thumb to your lips, and you kiss the digit, taking her hand in yours and bestowing another kiss on her soft, cool palm. She cups your face, inching down, and you know where she’s headed.

Holding herself up right above your strap, she keeps her gaze unwavering on yours, lining up the cock with her entrance. This woman was truly insatiable, you mused silently, smirking with wicked intention, and you moaned when she sank herself down onto you. Immediately you were aware of her cool, liquid arousal soaking onto your skin.

You reached for her, but she grabbed your hands and pressed them down above your head.

Her hips coiled and slammed down, over and over, too painfully slow for your liking.

You wanted to say something, but she beat you to it.

“You know that you belong to me?” she whispered.

Immediately, you nodded, avid and besotted. Yes, I belong to you.

Her head tilted, and a strange, disconcerting look crossed her face.

Natasha’s smile was different then.

There was something else rippling beneath the typical softness in her eyes. Something deep, and jagged. Something dark.

“I want you with me, always, Y/N.”

There was something about the way she pressed the word ‘always’ between her teeth. Sinking her fangs into it and bleeding it for every last drop of its meaning. You were mesmerized by her mouth when she said it, or when she said anything, honestly. But there was a strange undertone in this sound.

Always.

Always. Always. Always. Always. Always.

ALWAYS.

“I will be, babe, you know that.” You tried to appease her, to reassure her, but that glassy, distant look in her eyes focused on you. And hardened.

“Will you?” she asks. “Forever?”

You nod, sincerely, yes, but cautiously too. You’ve never seen this look on her face before. She studies you, and her mind turns and turns. You can’t tell what she’s thinking anymore. At this moment, she is a stranger to you.

A face of Natasha you do not know.

“How do you know that?”

Odd. Everything about this is odd. There was a misplaced causticity in the question. An undertone of veiled distress. You blink, try to find the right words in your mind, but you can tell that you’re taking too long for her to be satisfied.

Her head tilts, and you feel like you’ve failed to prove a very important point.

“Exactly,” she whispers, and the word skitters along your spine. “You don’t.”

She raises up, red hair falling down her naked chest. You never thought someone could look so intimidating while they were bare, but Natasha was a lot of firsts for you. She stares down at you, admiring your body, running her cool hands down your stomach. You feel a gentle tug on your strap as she sits herself down on your hips more comfortably.

She does not meet your eyes when she speaks next. It’s almost like she’s talking to herself.

“We have to make sure.”

You fight to understand. You don’t have the slightest idea what she means.

“Make sure of what, baby?”

She grips your sides, firmly, like she was about to tell you something consequential. Then when she looks at you, you realise that it is. It is very grave indeed.

“We have to make sure that you are gonna be with me forever.”

There was a haunting lilt to her voice, a wispy, lurking hiss that slithered into your mind. You chuckled awkwardly, a light sound, grating against the strange tension in the air. She smiled at you, her brow ticking up with cryptic amusement.

You decided to play along. Nervousness thundered through you, and the once delicious weight of her body sitting on your hips, paired with the grip of cold hands on your sides were beginning to feel heavier with every passing moment in the silence.

"How are we gonna do that?"

If you had blinked in that moment, you would have missed the almost indistinguishable flutter of her features. Her expression settled into a calm, gentle mask, and the iron hold on your sides released as she stroked her hands up to your chest, and across your shoulders.

"You're going to live forever. With me."

It took you a second.

Live forever.

Forever.

An echo, a gnawing thing, parasitic and invasive, found itself in your mind when she said it. Forever tasted the same way 'Always' tasted on your tongue. It only truly dawned on you when you saw that rogue ember of red spark in her eyes.

She was going to turn you.

You had never pondered the future of your relationship with Natasha. With this vampire that would possess and overtake you every night. And maybe that was to your own detriment. Where else would a love affair with an immortal predator go? Did you think she would just live with you until death and then move on to another love? Did you think the relationship would have fizzled before you even had the chance to find out?

Maybe this was your own fault. Being so goddamn reckless. Getting tangled into a vampire's web.

You try to plead, to convince her that you just want some time to think about it, but she just runs her thumb over your lips, and shushes you silently.

“We'll always be together, Y/N. It will be perfect. Just you and me, always.”

Her eyes ripple, pools of viridian green distorting and corrupting to a haunting, brilliant yellow.

That was a new colour on her, and suddenly your hair stood on end. Your gut began to roll and protest against whatever was about to happen, and an innate panic set in. You were going to become a vampire, whether you liked it or not.

And that yellow in her eyes, that burned so bright, blazed like the sun– you vaguely feel a sick familiarity in its hue. Your mind flashed back to months ago, you wanted to go see your friend Christine. Natasha wasn't having it.

You were adamant to see your friend. It had been months, maybe a year, since you last hung out. And it was innocent. But Natasha didn't like it.

I see the way she looks at you, she said. I trust you, I don't trust her.

You were ready to argue your point, to make her bend to this seemingly simple request, and you saw it then. A flicker of yellow in her eyes. You thought it was a trick of the light. A passing car. The TV.

And then suddenly, you changed your mind. In a split second, your solid decision didn't seem so solid anymore. You didn't really want to see Christine. You were just stir-crazy and needed to get out of the house. And Natasha smiled at your agreement.

But when you remember it now, it wasn't her usual smile. That gentle pull at the corner of those plump lips. This was different. A satisfactory gleam in her eye. Like she just accomplished something.

You see the look again now.

And that yellow drowned the green in her irises, flooding it completely. Her grip and press on your arms intensified like lead weights. You cannot move.

"Nat, please. Let's just think about this."

She tuts, as if you asked her the silliest question. "There's nothing to think about, sweet thing. You love me, don't you?"

You balk at her inference. "Of course I do, Nat. You know that."

"Don't you know I'm doing this for us?" Her brows knitted, and her eyes seemed to glisten on purpose.

Your choice, if you could call it that, slipped from your fingers.

"I- yes. I know you are, love."

Her expression changes like someone turned off a light switch, and her smile stretched across sharp teeth.

Suddenly, she is a predator.

A vampire.

And now you truly understand what that means.

You felt her shift above you, and she leaned forward. She brushes her tongue against your lips, and you can't believe you still give in to her mouth. Her tongue slipped between your lips, and you would never deny her a moan at the taste of it. She inched closer, her lips on yours as grinded against you, feeling the flex of those smooth, cool thighs as she rolled her hips, coating you in arousal, pumping down on your strap as it plunged in and out of her.

This was exciting her.

Her hair brushed against your shoulders, feather light, and everything of hers that touched you set you on fire. She intruded you and encompassed you, her whimper chasing the bite of your teeth on her lips. Your bodies rocked, entangled and entwined together in your bed, and your mind began to empty.

Her kiss was effortlessly comforting, and you suddenly started to forget what you were afraid of. All you were thinking of now was how badly you wanted her to cum again. You couldn’t think about anything else, until you realised that you had started to forget… almost everything. The kiss was a slow erasure, a treacherous sleight of hand as you abandon everything. Everything that wasn't her.

You want to be with her always.

ALWAYS.

The thought of that word started to uproot you from the moment. Ripping you out like a weed.

But every time you refocused on Natasha, paid attention to her on top of you as she rode harder, pulling away from your kiss for a moment so you would surrender to the amber in her eyes, your conscience wiped clean. How could you feel afraid about something that felt so good? Could you feel fear for enjoying her moan when your tongue brushed against hers? When you swallowed her every inhale and her nails pressed into the skin on your shoulder, pink crescents blooming on you every time they dug in harder. She bounced on your strap harder now, shaking the bed beneath you as she muffled her moans into your mouth.

“That’s it, baby. Make me cum for you.”

ALWAYS.

“Yes, Y/N, fuck…”

You felt her fangs as they grazed against your tongue.

No. This can't be happening.

ALWAYS.

"Just let me in, baby."

You felt afraid.

ALWAYS.

"Let me in."

FEAR

ALWAYS.

"Yes… that's it."

Love.

“You’re mine.”

LOVE.

WANTING.

NATASHA.

Always.

Your mind blanked for a split second, emotions dulled like a blanket of Novocaine. Your fear vanished, traceless, never there and nowhere to be found again. But your lust for Natasha, and the deep love, ever-pervading and transfixing, was being wrenched to the front of your mind, and suddenly… You knew nothing else. All you knew was Natasha. Your emotions amplified stronger and sharper than you've ever felt them, their vague shapes now a well defined form, specific and tangible.

Love and lust and wanting and eternity was all you felt and all you wanted to feel.

Everything you felt, smelled, tasted was her, the redheaded siren who was whimpering at your every touch, who was gripping your arms so hard that they bruised as she approached her orgasm, her hair wild across her chest. You were acutely aware of this brutal overtaking, and yet, you couldn’t get enough of it.

Natasha dominated your mind, and every thought now was red.

She gasped then, cumming all over your cock, her wetness dripping down your thighs and drenching the bed below you. A wicked chuckle fluttered in her chest.

"Mmmm… my sweet, sweet thing," she whispered, and your smile, intoxicated and hazy, widened at her words.

You were too out of it to notice her fangs lengthen.

Didn't know they were unsheathing from where they hid behind her soft, deceiving lips.

And then she bit you.

You felt the puncture in your artery, cold teeth piercing into your skin. You felt the heat of your blood pour from you, felt her lap at it with her tongue.

It was flooding the sheets.

And still, she was all you could think about.

She moaned at the taste of you, whimpering, her noises rumbling her fangs as they pushed deeper. Her hips started to pump onto your strap once more, hunger escalating, and you felt her wetness coat your lower stomach. She rolled your hips against you, pressing downwards, pushing your cock deeper and deeper. You heard the bed crack under her force.

Her moans muffled into your neck, as she stifled the sound and drank.

And drank.

Your hands grabbed onto handfuls of her ass, and you pressed her harder onto you. The sheets beneath you were soaking through, crimson dampness smearing onto your skin. You knew Natasha would lick you clean.

You could feel yourself draining. Feeling your head get lighter and lighter. She pulled off your neck for a moment, staring into your eyes.

"It'll be alright, my love. I love you so much, you're doing so well. You just need to rest."

You nodded and she kissed your mouth so tenderly that you couldn't take it. Her fingers threaded into your hair, and you tried your best to focus on her, only barely registering the way that crimson covered her mouth. Your eyes felt impossibly heavy.

"Just let it overtake you, baby. Mommy will take such good care of you."

She licked your lips, kissing your jaw, her eyes intently focusing on yours. The way they sparked red.

Your eyes finally closed, the last thing you saw was Natasha kissing your lips as you faded.

…..

In the slow blooming light, your body felt different. But that didn't matter as much as when Nat got out of bed, and you watched her hips sway, as she crossed the room to pull heavy metal shutters low.

You remember the way sunlight burned, reddening your skin for a split second before the sun was extinguished behind the shutters and the curtains. You remember the way the white sheets beneath you were now crimson, blood soaked.

Natasha returned to your arms, and you enveloped her, kissing soft red hair. She tucked her head under your chin, and held you tightly, nuzzling into your chest. The smell of jasmine and bergamot mixed pleasantly with the metallic tang of blood in the air.

You remember being able to feel Nat's heartbeat slow down as she relaxed her body atop you. You wrapped your arms tighter around her and she moaned gently in contentment.

“Mine,” she whispered.

You kissed her forehead.

"Always."

don't look at me

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Not Today

Poor Grandma

This is both madness and beauty combined into one and I fuckin love it so much.

Left Behind - Final Chapter - As the World Cave In

Gif was made by @abimess

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

Series Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader || platonic bucky barnes x reader, mentor!natastha romanoff and mentor!steve rogers, bruce banner x reader (friendship), pietro maximoff x reader (friendship).

Words: 5.958 K

A/N> This series finally comes to an end. My only warning for this chapter is that I was on crack if you hate it you can pretend the previous one is the real ending.

All Works Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Series Masterlist

//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-//

Chapter 11 - As The World Cave In

Wake up.

Murmuring softly, you turn your body in bed.

"Baby, wake up, we're going to be late." You hear the whisper, but all you do is bury your face deeper into the pillow, muttering under your breath. "Come on baby, it's your brother's birthday."

"Five minutes." You ask, your voice muffled against the mattress. Your wife laughs, her hand reaching your waist and her fingers running up your back.

You smile when you feel the caress, even if you are asleep, your body responds to touches with light shivers. And she knows it.

"Wake up babe." She asks again, this time moving closer to place several kisses against your face, but you don't give in. When her hands go down to your waist, and she starts tickling you, you laugh trying to block her hands.

You move you around the bed quickly, standing on top and sitting on her belly, your hands pin her wrists to both sides of her head.

Wanda smiles with her cheeks reddened.

"That wasn't fair." You warn with false annoyance, and your wife just stares at you with bright eyes, briefly resisting the position before relaxing completely.

"But it woke you up." She teases, making you roll your eyes in amusement.

"Actually I'm still sleeping." You joke with a mischievous smile, approaching your face and noticing her holding her breath in anticipation. You dodge your way to kiss her cheek, and Wanda grumbles under her breath. Your kisses run down her jaw, too chaste and fast in her opinion. When you kiss the skin of her collarbone, she sighs and you smile, pulling away to look at her. "Sorry, weren't you the one who said we were going to be late?" You tease and Wanda giggles before lifting her face towards your, pressing your lips together.

You smile against her lips, there was no point in resisting it.

You two share a soft kiss, and you melt. She takes advantage of the loosened grip on her wrists to get on top in a quick move, fitting against your legs and you sigh in surprise at the sudden movement, but you don't have time to react because she's kissing you again, with greater intensity this time.

When your body starts to heat up, Wanda's mouth on your neck, you try to push the wave of lust and mutter between your unbalanced breathing "Wanda, the kids..." in a warning tone, but Wanda smiles against your skin , her face rising to the level of your ear.

"We better be quiet then." Her hot, wet whisper makes your body shiver and you sigh, surrendering.

But suddenly you hesitate.

Something is wrong.

Wanda knows exactly where to touch you. As if you've already done this a thousand times, and she knew it by heart. Something in the back of your mind is screaming wondering how could she know that if you only did it once? There’s a ghost of a memory. A flash of giggles and experimental touches, a shy Wanda learning where to touch, asking between her breath where would you like her to kiss, how she was your first.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

But the memory and the hesitation vanishes the next second, and you're getting lost in her lips and her touch, soft moans escaping your mouth as you push the doubt away.

When you two reach your highness, you against her fingertips and her against your tight, she whimper your name against your ear, your hands entwined on hers in the sheets.

And as you two try to normalize your breathing, you hear noises in the kitchen, and you exchange giggles.

"Someone else is awake." She mumbles against your cheek, moving her face away next. She kisses your mouth before pulling away completely. "I'll make us breakfast. Don't go back to sleep."

You just chuckle softly, missing her warmth as you stay in bed.

When Wanda leaves the room, you sigh before sitting up in bed, stretching.

Your gaze wanders around the room.

Home.

There are pictures on the walls, and on the shelves. Photographs of a lifetime. A shiver runs through your body. You sigh lightly, pushing away the discomfort. It's just the cold. Sokovia is cold in the fall.

You walk out of the room with lazy steps, and when you reach the kitchen, someone is jumping on you.

“Good morning, mommy!” Greets the little four-year-old boy, smiling, two teeth missing in the front. You smile as you pick him up.

"Good morning, Billy." You say as you carry him towards the table. Wanda looks at you from the counter, gives you a wink before turning her attention back to the pancakes she has started to make. "Did you sleep well, sweetheart?"

"Yes, I dreamed about Tommy. We were astronauts!" He tells with a smile, making you let out an understatement noise as you sit down. You pull away only to kiss the other child sitting at the table on the cheek, who smiles before turning back to the video game.

"Tommy, what did I say about games at the table?" You say in a warning tone, and the boy sighs before turning off the phone.

"Sorry, Mom." He asks while putting it away. You mess his hair before walking to the kitchen counter.

When you turn around however, you stop. You can see, through the kitchen door, a man sitting on the porch with his back to you.

"What is the problem, sweetheart?" Wanda asks and you look at her before looking back at the door.

"There's someone out there."

"Maybe it's the milkman, he's late." She says casually, serving the pancakes on a plate.

You feel weird. There is a little pressure behind your eyes. You look at your family for a second.

"I'll be right back." You let them know before walking to the door. When you touch the doorknob, Wanda's hand is on your forearm, and you blink in surprise. How did she move so fast?

"I'm just going outside, sweetheart." You say with a smile. There's something in Wanda's eyes that makes you consider not leaving. She doesn't smile back.

"You're not coming back, are you?" she asks and you frown, watching the tears form in her eyes.

"What?"

But the moment ends at the same speed as it begins. She gives a short laugh, wiping away her tears and the same soft energy comes back to her.

"Bring the milk and the newspaper please, love." She says before moving away, going back to the counter and grabbing the pancakes. She sits down at the table and serves the children next, as if nothing has happened.

You blink in confusion and look at them one last time before opening the door and walking out.

The man doesn't turn around and you clear your throat.

"Sorry, can I help with something?"

The man turns his face to you. You never met him.

"Good morning, Y/N." He says politely. "Quite a place you set up here."

“Sorry?”

“I admit I expected Vormir, but this is good too.”

You frown in confusion, but then cross your arms.

"Look, sir, I think it is best if you leave."

He turns his head front, looking at the landscape. You're ready to tell him to leave again when he gets up, and you take a defensive step back.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" He asks as he looks at you again.

"I don't know you. And I think you should go."

"Can you take a walk?" He asks with a mixture of curiosity and impressionism. "How far are you able to go?"

"Please, sir, leave."

"Honey?" Wanda asks from the door, and you startle, turning to look at her. "Who are you talking to?"

You notice her confused and curious look as she looks around. You frown.

“I’m…”

“She won't talk to me, miss." The man calmly warns. “But I admit that even this is almost completely faithful.”

"What?"

"Almost." He comments with a smile. "If I'm not mistaken, Miss Maximoff has brown hair."

Only now do you become aware of the fact that Wanda at the door has long red hair.

Wake up. Wake up.

You sigh lightly, lifting your hands to your wife's shoulders.

"Honey, come back inside, alright?" You ask without understanding because you feel despair growing in your chest. "I'll be going for a walk"

"Don't be long, or we'll be late for your brother's party." She says tenderly. "You know your dad hates it when you're late for things."

Wanda kisses your cheek before stepping back inside.

Something is wrong, but you don't know what it is.

"You're coming with me, then?" The man asks as soon as you turn to him again.

"Who are you? What do you want here?" you ask impatiently and frightened.

"I came for you, of course." He clarifies. "And my name is Yao."

“Well, mister Yao.” You starts. “I’m not going anywhere with you because I don’t know you and I think you should leave my property.”

"Oh yes, we haven't met yet." He comments thoughtfully. “But don’t worry, we will soon enough.”

"Please leave."

“Don’t worry, we got time.” He says as he turns his back to you again, leaving the porch and stepping in the grass. “Let’s start with the beginning.”

He's walking away, and you want to go back inside, but something is begging you to follow him, so that's what you do.

Yao takes a deep breath before speaking again, his gaze on the landscape.

"You were very hard to find, miss." He counts. "I was about to give up."

"Why were you looking for me?"

"Because of what you did before you disappeared." He responds by looking at you for a moment before he stops walking. You fold your arms and stare at the landscape too. Kilometers and kilometers of plantations and mountains. A funny thought occurs to you and you giggle, which catches the eye of man, who raises his eyebrow in curiosity.

You roll your eyes slightly.

"It's just that I thought something ironic." You comment and he turns to face you. "Wanda said we are going to visit my brother, but there is no road. I just thought it would be difficult to drive on the grass."

Yao has a small smile at the corner of his lips, and you swallow hard, realizing that this really was weird.

And then you look around.

Your home is a cabin in the middle of the mountains. No road, no car, no nearby civilization. With nothing visible but grass and rocks. Even if you try to squint your eyes, everything gets a little blurry further away. The shivers you felt earlier were back.

"Where am I?" You ask confused. Yao turns the body towards you.

"I need you to stay calm."

"No, I'm serious." You counter starting to despair. "Where am I? Why there’s no road? Or Car? How are we leaving without a car?”

"Please miss.”

Then you understand.

“I’m not going anywhere am I?”

Yao sighs, and shakes his head in denial. You step back.

"You never do." He counts. "I think the limit is the front-yard."

"What the hell are you talking about?" You rage with tears in your eyes. "Where am I?"

"Well this is more complicated." He retorts seriously, but his eyes are tender. "Your physical body is on a stretcher in the Infirmary of Avengers's Compound, in New York City, in the year of 2015."

"I-I'm..."

Yao steps forward, raising his hands to your chest height as if trying to calm you down.

"But your spirit form, what you are right now, is in between." He says it as if the words make any sense to you.

"I don't…I don't understand."

"It will be easier if you remember how you got here." Yao says with a pleading expression. You shake your head slightly. "Try. Try to think where you were before you woke up this morning."

You look at him in confusion.

Suddenly, you remember.

Your conscience stumbling in nothingness, trying to grab onto something. You thought someone was calling you, that you should come back. But come back to where?

Home. You thought. Home was where you should be. Home was where the soft female whisper was telling you to go.

And so everything was forming around you and when your knees gave up, you felt in a bed.

You gasped in surprise, starting to freak out.

"Where... Where am I?" You whimpered looking around. None of this makes sense. "I just…I just remember this... emptiness. I was so sad. Sad and weak."

"Why were you sad?"

"I..." You tried. Yao waited anxiously and you gasped. "Pietro died."

You put your hand on your chest, trying to normalize your breathing as all your memories came back at once. Yao just looked at you.

“He died!” You cried. “He died in my arms. I… tried to save him. I did. What happened to him? Please, sir, tell me I saved him.”

You begged between sobs, Yao sighed.

"You did." His words brought an immediate rush of relief, but he didn't look happy. "That's why I'm here."

You took a deep breath, trying to stop crying and waiting for Yao to explain.

"Bringing someone back to life causes instability in the timeline." He says turning to you. "And it's my job to protect and ensure that doesn't happen."

"Are you here to punish me then?" You ask unsure. "I'll pay what you need, just let Pietro live."

Yao raises his eyebrow, impressed.

“I’m not.” He says. "I'm here to study you actually."

"Study me... what?" You ask confused.

"The variant you created in the timeline disappeared the next minute after it appeared." He says next. "I went to the Avengers right away when I noticed the change, but by the time I got there, there was nothing else to fix. Pietro was alive, and you were in a coma. And the timeline is intact."

"Am I in a coma?" You ask in surprise but Yao ignores you and continues talking.

"Pietro Maximoff was meant to die in the battle of Sokovia, for you later to die in Wakanda." He counts and you look at him with wide eyes in confusion and indignation. "All for Wanda Maximoff to become the scarlet witch."

You stare at Yao for a moment before letting out a humorless laugh, wiping away your tears.

"Are you for real, right now?"

"I am." He insists. "My job is to maintain the stability of our reality's timeline. And Wanda's destiny is..."

"Lose her brother?" You interrupt with indignation. "Or even lose me? What the hell are you talking about?"

The man sighs deeply and crosses his arms.

"Miss Maximoff reaches the fullest of her powers with your death." He continues seriously and you sigh in disbelief. "She becomes able to manipulate chaos magic and alter reality to build a life with you..."

You shake your head, turning away as you massage your temples with your fingers.

"You're fucking with me, is that it?" You accuse angrily. "None of this makes any sense. Telling me Wanda is destined to lose the people she loves to become a witch? Where did that come from? Why don't you tell me where I am?"

"I already told you, you're in between." He repeats and you're ready to interrupt angrily, but he continues quickly. "The celestial dimension of nothingness, Miss Y/N."

You frown and he looks around before continuing.

"I thought you would be in Vormir." Yao continues. "The realm of death at the center of celestial existence, that is. But no. I also looked for you in Valhalla, with no success."

"I died." You whisper in shock, looking away at the floor. Yao sighs lightly.

"You should have, but no."

You raise your eyebrows and look at him quickly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"In my universe, you die." He says. "You die when the mad titan, Thanos, attacks Wakanda. And Wanda Maximoff witnessed."

"This is ridiculous."

Yao shakes his head slightly.

"You die saving sergeant James Barnes from a fatal blow." He continues. "Which is useless by the way, since the titan snaps his fingers and James is one of the people who disappears."

All you can do is stare at Yao like he's insane, and seeing your expression, he takes a deep breath and goes back to talking.

"Wait, what?" You interrupt when you see the worry in the old man's eyes. "Wanda, is she...?"

"Destroying worlds in blind rage?" He completes making you gasp in surprise, but Yao doesn't look angry, just tired. "All she knows is pain, Miss Y/L/N. So pain is all she causes."

"That’s not Wanda. She 's not cruel." You retort. "She's sweet and funny and good."

"She used to be like that, I'm sure." He tenderly nods. "But that person no longer exists. Some of that kindness has gone with her brother, and the rest has been buried with you."

You swallowed hard, falling silent and trying to imagine a Wanda who lost Pietro. Who lost you.

"I don't believe you." You declare then, ignoring the tears in your eyes. "She wouldn't."

Yao just nods at something behind you. You frown as you follow his gaze, noticing that your kids are playing on the porch, oblivious to the conversation you're having.

"I don't understand." You tell Yao. "My children..."

"Yours?"

And then you understand. And you let's a short incredulously laugh.

"They’re her children." You say. "Please don't say she lost them too."

"She lost everything."

"Why?" You plead but Yao just shrugs slightly, looking just as upset as you do.

"Life isn't fair, for any of us."

"This is absurd." You retort indignantly. "And how do you know all this? Why didn't you stop it?"

"We can't change our destinies, Miss Y/N..."

"Bullshit!" You interrupt, annoyed. "Think I'm going to watch Wanda lose everyone? I may have no idea where I am, but rest assured I'll do my best to make sure she's never alone like this, ever!"

Yao looks at you impressed.

"I knew you were different."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I pass some sick moral test?" You retort mockingly and Yao gives a short laugh.

"In a way, yes." He says. "I've been pretty busy the last few months, you know, a war between realities caused by the disproportionate use of chaos magic in my world. And only your universe wasn't in dimensional warfare."

You looked at him in confusion, but Yao continued to talk as if all those strange words made a lot of sense to you.

"Miss Maximoff will not cooperate with me, we will face each other and I will die." He declares with a certain nostalgia and you widen your eyes. "But that doesn't have to be the fate of all universes."

"I'm really not following."

"You're a life keeper." He tells you. "Or should I say, a guardian of Life?"

"Am I what now?"

"A being capable of forging, creating, giving and even taking life as they please."

You look at him stunned, shocked about his confession. Yao chuckles lightly, waving to the land with his hands.

"Don't you see it?" He asked. "You made this. You made here."

"But how?" You wonder, ignoring the way your eyes were tearing.

"You unlock a great potential of your magic after emotional distress." He answered. "Which is highly unrecommended, I must tell."

"No, sir." You correct yourself. "I meant, how did I do all this? Why, even? Is this supposed to be a heaven or something?"

"Well, that I'm not exactly sure." He says as he assumes a thoughtful posture. "You see, you push your magic far from the limit back there. Giving life to Pietro again cost your own, but since you cannot die, your consciousness just moved away."

"I beg your pardon?" You interrupt with shock. "What do you mean I cannot die?"

"Oh, yes." He says with a smile. "It’s because of the nature of your powers, miss. Guardians of Life cannot die because they are life itself, forming in eternity. It’s pure order magic."

"Okay, this is too much." You say as you move to sit down on the porch.

Yao signs and takes a seat next to you.

"I know it is." He says. "I remember when I learned all about magic and the universe and the infinite. I thought none of it was real or made any sense."

You just give a short laugh, moving your hands to your hair in a nervous tic.

As you try to calm your thoughts, Yao waits. You two are silent for several minutes before he speaks again.

"I came here for you." He says. "And I assure I have the best of intentions.”

You frown in disbelief as you look up to him.

“I don’t trust you, sir.” You say. “But I get a feeling you have things to tell me, so please, be my guest.”

Yao smiles before he continues.

“After what you did there, I needed to be sure you weren't someone trying to destroy the equilibrium of the universe. And turns out that you're not. It turns out you're one of the people meant to save it."

"I'm not following it…"

"The guardians of life? It is written that they are the ones destined to fulfill the emptiness with life." He explains. "They are not meant to end wars or start them, like most of the other prophecies. No. They bring life to the places that were either gone, or were never born yet."

"That 's insanity."

"Yes, it is." Yao agrees with a smile. "Just like bringing your dead friend back to life with a gold wave of healing energy."

You grumble softly, burying your face in your hands for a moment.

"But your destiny starts before that." He continues. "Before this greatness, your existence is enough to prevent the worst." He smiles as he takes a pause. “You’re the only thing keeping the Scarlet Witch from destroying the multiverse.”

You look at him in surprise, but he just continues to explain.

“Your powers will develop to the point where you become a being capable of manipulating order magic. That is, the opposite of Wanda's magic. Some say that while one brings death and destruction, the other brings life and prosperity." He tells you. "That’s why you're the only one who can stand up to her.”

"I wouldn't."

He blinks in surprise.

"Don't say what you don't know."

"I mean it." You insist. "I wouldn't fight Wanda."

"You've already fought her, miss." He says and you move back. "You just don't know that yet."

"You are lying."

Yao looks at you for a moment shaking his head slightly.

"There's no point in arguing about it now, you're just a girl."

"Don't patronize me!"

He gives a short smile.

"I'm not." He says. "You just aren't yet."

"What does that mean?"

He checks his watch, sighing.

"There is no time." He says. "If you don't go back, Wanda becomes the scarlet witch through grief and pain. Even with Pietro, she creates the hex through chaos magic. You need to go back. You need to stop her from causing this imbalance in reality and stopping the universe from falling into ruin."

"I don't believe you, Yao." You retort. "She is not evil.”

"I came here to help you, because I know you don’t want this for her too." He insisted. "You're a variant of the multiverse. You die in millions of them, but the one you survive in is the only one where Wanda doesn't become a villain. So I need you to come back."

"Back where?"

"Your body." He says. "Your mind. And more importantly, get back to her.”

You blink in confusion, and look back.

"Wanda is already here."

Yao swallows hard, and shakes his head slightly.

"This is a fantasy, Miss Y/L/N." He says. You cross your arms, standing up and moving away for him. He sighs as he stands too. "Honestly, the stubbornness of seeing the truth is something you two seem to share."

"I died, mister." You retort. "I saved Pietro, and now I'm dead. I'm at peace here."

"You are not dead." He counters. "Can't you see it? Can't you hear her crying beside your bed?"

Your mind is a mess. You tighten your fingers around your forehead with your eyes closed before sighing.

"None of this makes sense. All this stuff about universes and reality, and Wanda being a villain. I need you to leave. I need silence!”

Everything went quiet. You open your eyes to see that not only the wind noise, but every sound was gone. You gasp, but Yao just stands there while looking around impressed.

“How…?”

You start out in a sigh, also moving to look around. Nothing has changed in the landscape, but there is no sound. You look at Yao with despair.

"Impressive skill set I must say." He says. "But I've never seen anyone use order magic for personal use before."

"Order...what?"

Yao checks his watch on his wrist before speaking.

"I'm running out of time Y/N, forgive me." He says. "I need you to make your choice soon."

"I don't know what I'm choosing."

"It's very simple actually." He starts with a tender smile. ‘

"You go back to your body and fulfill your destiny. Or continue in this celestial lie for the next what, five years? Until Wanda creates the hex in your world and becomes the scarlet witch. When she does, she will use the darkhold. And she won't be happy to find you resting while she was alone."

You frown.

"Is there any version of me that stayed?"

"Yes." He replied simply.

"And Wanda?"

"She never forgave you for leaving her behind"

You swallowed the urge to cry.

"Is there a reality where we are enemies?" You force yourself to ask and Yao can see the pain in your eyes so he just nods in agreement. You let a few tears flow, but quickly wipe them away. "What do I have to do to avoid it?"

"Love her."

You let out an ironic laugh.

"I already do." You say. "Or did the heaven I build with her give you a different impression?”

Your joke makes him laugh.

“Okay, smarty pants.” Yao retorts and you manage a short giggle beyond the tears. “I need you to make a choice now, i can stay here for any longer.”

You take a pause, sighing softly. Where you are is really beautiful. The landscape looks like a living dream.

“Can I say goodbye to them?” You ask as you look back to your house. Yao checks his watch again before nodding to you as he puts his hands on his pockets.

You gave him a weak smile before turning towards the porch again, walking home.

Billy and Tommy look away from their toys to you as soon as you reach them. You realize how strange that was. You had no memory of a life with them, but you knew they were yours, that they were your family, your baby boys. Everything was a bit numb in your brain, like a distance dream you couldn't really focus on.

“Mommy, are we leaving for uncle’s house now?” Tommy asked as you bent down to mess his hair. You smile at him.

“Yes, sweetheart.” You told. “I’m just gonna talk to mommy first, okay?”

“Alright, mommy.” He agreed as he turned his attention back to the wood horse he was playing with. You took one last look at him and Billy before going back inside.

You hold your breath as you see Wanda, moving around as she is looking for the things you two were supposed to take for the party.

“Honey, I’ll be outside in a minute.” She warns as she looks around. “I just gotta find our keys.”

You bite your lip to avoid saying that there’s no car. You don’t mean to scare her. So you just lay against the wall as you cross your arms.

You realize that you know she will find the key in the last kitchen cabinet drawer, but when you leave the house, you’re back in bed. You wonder how many times you revived this.

“Wanda?” You call her with hesitation, and she stops moving around to look at you with a worried expression due to the cracking in your voice.

You just look at her. Memorizing her image. Soft eyes, mature expression. She’s different from the Wanda you know. She’s older, maybe a couple of years, you can tell for the soft marks on her face. The hair is different too as you noted before. Red is a good choice for her.

“I love you.” You whisper with a sad smile. Wanda frowns as she comes closer, and you sigh when she touches the sides of your face with both of her hands.

“Darling, I love you too.” She confessed. “But what’s wrong?”

You wonder how much of this is real. If this world, this fantasy, will fade away once you leave. Or if whatever this is, will always be a prison for them. Both options seem unfair.

“It’s nothing, my love.” You lie as you place your hands on hers, your thumbs caressing her skin as you look at her beautiful emerald eyes, shining with confusion.

You remember Yao’s words. About fighting her.

“You know I would never hurt you, right, Wanda?” You say and she gives you a shy smile.

“I do.”

“Would you ever hurt me?”

“I already have.” She answers with a guilty smile and you frown slightly.

“If you mean Sokovia, I’ve forgiven you for…”

“No.” She interrupts as she swallows hard, her gaze moving away. “I kept you here.”

You frown in confusion. Wanda waits until you realize what she's saying. When you do, you take her hands off your face.

“You are her.” You whisper, putting the pieces together. Wanda takes a deep breath. You move away to the kitchen, looking back to the door for a second, seeing tha Yao is checking his watch. “But how?”

“I lost you once.” She says but she doesn't take a step further. “I couldn’t lose you again.”

“Am I not real?”

“Of course you are!” Wanda exclaims almost desperately. "You are the only real thing I have here. I…I couldn't bring you back. It didn't work because of your magic. So I had to look for you in another reality."

You run your hands over your face for a moment.

"Why this version of me?" You ask.

"Because you saved my brother." She responds with a sigh. "When you did that, I used the timeline variant to keep you to myself."

You widen your eyes.

"How long?"

"Not enough."

You give a short laugh, which turns into a sob halfway through, and you notice that Wanda also has tears in her eyes.

"What happened to you, my love?" You ask. "My Wanda doesn't hurt or kidnap people."

"Maybe you don't know her well enough." She snaps and you bite the inside of your cheek, letting the tears flow. She sighs, crossing her arms. "How did you wake up?"

"A traveler." You answered. "He's out there, can't you see him?"

She looks at the door immediately with a frown and then back to you.

"No." She says. "He must be projecting his aura through his physical body."

"How are you doing this, dear?" You ask. "He told me I'm in New York."

Wanda sighs, leaning forward to lean on the counter beside her.

"I looked for you in the time-space of the multiverse." She explains. "I found your consciousness wandering in the void. Our magic did the rest."

"This is insane." You mumble. "I remember the emptiness. I don't remember seeing you before waking up."

"I'm always with you." She declares and then gives a humorless laugh. "Or I used to be."

"The traveler told me I made this place."

"You did." She clarifies. "With my help. As soon as my magic came into contact with yours everything got mixed up. This place appeared, my boys were back, you were back. I couldn’t let go."

"Yao said your world is at war." You continue, Wanda tenses but then sighs.

"It is."

"And you are causing it."

"I am."

"Why?"

Wanda looks at you with a sad smile.

"I'm tired of losing everything."

You stare at her for a moment before looking back into the room.

"Are you going to let me leave?"

"I can't keep you."

You reach for her hand on the counter, interlacing your hands together and placing them on her thigh as you turn your face to face her.

"I'm sorry my love." You whisper and watch the thick tears run down her face. "I feel like there's nothing I can say to stop you from fighting."

She shakes her head slightly.

"This is who I am now." She whispers back. "You can only help your Wanda."

You sigh, resting your forehead against hers.

"There is no version of me that would hate you, Wanda. I will always forgive you, and understand you." You say. "And most importantly, I will always love you."

Wanda sobs, breaking the distance.

She tastes different. It's almost imperceptible, but now that you've got your memories back, you know.

You break the kiss, using your free hand to wipe the tears from her face.

"Goodbye, Wanda."

"Don't leave her side." She asked last, her hand squeezing yours before letting go.

You smile and turn to leave.

As you walk outside, the environment starts to blur around you, like a ghostly glow. You imagine it's your magic separating from hers.

When you step outside, you are in emptiness again. Everything is white around you, and Yao is waiting with his arms crossed.

"Are you ready to wake up?" he asks, looking nervous.

"Yeah." You say. "You'll be okay?"

He hesitates with a nervous laugh. "No, Miss Y/L/N. She's almost reaching me. This will be our last fight."

You swallowed dry. The Wanda of his world was no longer just Wanda. She was the scarlet witch now. Again having lost her family and searching for her revenge.

You then realize that if Yao is dying, someone is going to have to face this Wanda.

"It's going to be me, isn't it?" You ask, feeling an overwhelming urge to cry. "That's why you set me free. You don't beat her. And she won't stop. So you found someone who could."

He looked at his watch again.

"Maybe" He says. "Or maybe your Wanda will fight her. Or maybe the little conversation in the kitchen will be enough to make her stop."

You sigh.

“It won’t.” You say. "Just…take me back please."

He smiles.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, friend."

“Likewise, Yao.”

When it becomes difficult to keep your eyes open again, you surrender to darkness.

But it's alright. Because there is warmness in your chest. There is someone sleeping on top of you. The smell of shampoo is familiar. You don't need to open your eyes to know that Wanda fell asleep while waiting for you to wake up.

Before waking up, before hugging her and before assuring her and all the avengers that you were okay and that they had nothing to worry about, you said goodbye to the memories you had with Yao and Wanda from the other reality, realizing that they were disappearing as you returned to your body.

You didn't need those memories. You don't need to know the future, because loving Wanda will be enough.

//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-////-//-////-//-//

Tag List> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @mjaudrey

*crosses leg ummm gawd dayum*

Come party just with me

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: It's Saturday night and you're at a party with your friends. But maybe there's a better place where you can be. [3.898 words]

Warnings: smut (+18!), alcohol, milf, top!Reader, bottom!Wanda, strap on (r giving), oral (r giving), praise kink, ass slapping (r giving), hair pulling [let me know if there’s more]

To close the Halloween stories, a smut (because in the end we're all just horny, aren't we?) Also, this story is inspired by the song Mommy by Betta Lemme. Enjoy!

For this request || Masterlist

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It's Halloween. Honestly, you didn't care much for the date. It had its plus points, of course, but nothing to do with the meaning or the candy.

You liked the parties, being able to go out drinking with your friends. And mainly about how free people felt at this time of the year, allowing themselves to dress and do whatever they wanted.

Today, for example, you are at a party with your friends where you have not even arrived thirty minutes ago and you have already kissed six different people, people you had no idea who they were and that you would probably never find out.

Your gaze wanders intently around the party, searching for the next mouth to kiss (and hopefully other parts too) when you feel your cell phone vibrating inside your pocket. You pull it out with one hand, unlocking it afterwards. When you see the notification, you clench your jaw.

Hi. Wanna come over?

The simple message comes from the contact saved only with the number, no name whatsoever. But you know very well whose it is, this being one of the few numbers you have memorized.

Wanda Maximoff is a rather unstable part of your life.

You met the redhead a few months ago. Your aunt introduced you to her co-worker at an unpretentious Sunday lunch and you two got along pretty well right away.

Little did Natasha know, however, that this friendly approach concealed something more. Something instinctive and intense that neither you nor Wanda were able to contain on the first occasion you were left alone.

You had been meeting in secret ever since, the need that bordered on addiction for each other seeming more and more difficult to fulfill.

But it was all merely casual. Wanda was much older than you, had children, and a job that cost her almost her entire day. You, on the other hand, had just started college, in your second semester.

Wanda was not going to give up her obligations as a mother for a youthful romance. And you were not going to give up all the possibilities that early adulthood was capable of offering.

So you and Wanda carried on casually, with no obligations to each other, no plans for the future, and no exclusivity.

This, however, did not send away the possessive feeling you had for each other. It's not healthy, you both knew it very well, but it was uncontrollable, before you knew it, you were already being consumed by it.

Recently, you went to an ice cream parlor with a group of friends and, to your misfortune, you saw Wanda there, accompanied by a blond man whom you instantly hated.

You both noticed each other's presence in the establishment, but pretended not to know each other in order not to arouse suspicion.

Wanda felt your gaze on her constantly, your eyes glaring at the man accompanying her. The redhead then decided to tease you, brazenly flirting with her date and smiling every time she saw the effects of her actions on you.

Since that day you have avoided all her attempts to contact you, your blood boiling in your veins at the mere memory of the occasion. But even though you ignored messages and calls, the redhead still persisted. And even though you were angry, you couldn't help but relish her eagerness to see you.

But today you were in a good mood, so you decide to give her an answer, even if it wasn't the one she wanted to receive.

I can't, Wanda, I'm at a party.

You put the cell phone back in your pocket after that and walk over to the drinks table. You take some more of the dubiously colored punch for yourself, containing a grimace as the strong liquid comes in touch with your palate.

With your senses slightly affected by the amount of alcohol you have ingested that night, it takes a few seconds for you to process the new vibration of your cell phone.

You take the device out of your pocket once more, opening the messaging app, and a mischievous smile takes over your lips as soon as you see the picture.

On her bed, a carefully placed red lingerie stands out even more against the white of the sheets. You groan at the mere thought of Wanda wearing it, and the next message makes you weak in the knees.

Come party just with me.

With alcohol intoxicating your mind and your imagination wandering free and wild, you don't even bother to answer.

Shoving your cell phone back inside your pocket, you leave the party and take the first cab you can find, heading towards your longed-for destination.

-----

As soon as you reach Wanda's house and knock on the door, the redhead pulls you inside, capturing your lips with hers fervently.

"So needy." You tease with a giggle amidst the kisses, but Wanda doesn't inhibit herself, her long fingers unbuttoning your blouse as her mouth devours yours.

"I've been thinking about you all week." She confesses, moving her kisses down your neck. You bring your hands to her waist, squeezing the flesh there and making the redhead whimper by your ear.

"Oh yeah? What you've been thinking about, baby girl?" You ask, your tone of voice low as your fingers move up to her chin, guiding her to look at you again. An involuntary whimper escapes Wanda's lips at the name, and you smirk at the outcome.

The effect you have on her is clear, her body touching yours in every possible place and her eyes locked on yours pleadingly. Finally remembering your question, Wanda bites her lower lip, dragging your eyes to the action.

"About your hands." She replies in a whisper, holding your hands and bringing them to her ass. You give a squeeze there, pinning her body even tighter to yours, and Wanda moans, bringing her hands to your neck and stroking the back of it with her fingernails.

"About your lips, all over me." She continues, capturing your lower lip with her teeth and pulling you toward her. You lean forward, trying to kiss her, but the redhead is quick to deflect, bringing her face close to your ear.

"About me screaming your name with your head between my thighs." She whispers, nibbling on your earlobe, and you groan, your whole body shivering.

"Fuck, Wanda." You breathe out, holding her by the waist and reversing positions, pressing her harshly against the door, and Wanda moans in both pleasure and pain as her back slams against the hard wood.

Bringing your lips to her neck, you trail kisses and nibbles on the soft skin. Wanda sighs heavily, her hands firmly in your hair, encouraging you to continue, and pushing her hips down in search of your leg.

You decide to give her what she seeks, pressing your thigh against her center, and Wanda moans at the new contact, rocking her hips in search of friction.

Feeling the fabric of your jeans getting wet with her arousal, you feel lust coursing through your veins and you suck on a sensitive spot on her neck, the redhead sighing in response.

Wanda pulls your face up next, kissing you eagerly, and you bring your hands to her ass again to pull her up, holding her in your lap and pressing her against the door.

The redhead wraps her legs around your waist tightly, moaning against your lips as she feels the solid bump under your pants, indicating the clothed strap.

You walk away from the door then, your mouth never leaving hers as your feet lead you with familiarity to her bedroom.

Once there, you place her on the bed, her legs spreading for you as you stand. As you remove your blouse, which Wanda has unbuttoned, you take your time to admire the woman before you.

Wearing an almost transparent white robe, the redhead watches you with urgency, her eyes pleading with you to return to her as soon as possible. You can't wait to reveal what's underneath that garment.

With your blouse now dropped to the floor, you lie on top of Wanda, your knee meeting her center and making the redhead moan at the contact.

You kiss her next, your tongue exploring her mouth as if it had never been there before, and Wanda once again rolls her hips against your leg, desperately seeking to relieve the growing discomfort at the pit of her belly.

Wanda brings her hands to your back, pressing your skin down with her nails, and you shiver at the sensation, your lips descending to her neck.

Unexpectedly, Wanda holds the strap over your pants with her full hand. With the sudden movement in your center, you moan, and Wanda watches the action with a smirk. "What's this, baby? Is it for me or for some slut that was with you at that party?"

"What if it was? What you gonna do about it?" You tease with a smirk, relishing the obvious jealousy on every one of her features. Wanda, however, tries to disguise the feeling by putting an even wider smirk on her lips.

"I'm gonna remind you you'll never find anyone better than me." She replies, pushing you by the shoulders immediately afterwards and reversing positions, straddling you, and you gasp in surprise.

As Wanda brazenly rubs herself against your clothed strap, you bring your hands to her waist, assisting her in her movements while you admire her mesmerized.

The redhead then undoes the tie that held her robe closed in an agonizingly slow pace, and you watch her with anticipation.

When the item is removed and discarded on the bed, your breath gets caught in your throat at the sight of Wanda in the lingerie she had sent you the photo of earlier.

Red is her color, clearly, and the garment, despite covering almost nothing, highlights her body perfectly. You wouldn't be surprised if you were drooling right now and Wanda watches you devour her with your gaze with a proud smile on your lips.

"What is it, baby?" Wanda asks feigning innocence, swaying her hips against yours again, "do you like what you see?"

Instead of answering you sit up, bringing your hands to her back and laying her down on the bed afterwards, returning to your previous position.

"You look so fucking hot in it, Wanda, but I can't wait to rip it off of you." You say, your lips mere inches from her swollen ones, and the redhead's breath hitches with craving.

"Do it then." She encourages, and you don't think twice before kissing her fiercely, Wanda's mind spinning with the intensity.

As Wanda holds your face with both hands, keeping you as close as she can, you move your hand down the side of her body to her leg, pulling her against you next, and the redhead wraps it around your waist in response.

You move your kisses down Wanda's neck, and she brings her hands down to your shoulders, encouraging you to continue.

Your mouth soon reaches one of her breasts, and you lift one hand to the other, cupping it with your full hand while teasing the other with your lips. Wanda sighs heavily, arching her back and bringing her chest even closer to you.

You continue down your kisses then, Wanda's breathing becoming more erratic as your lips move closer to her core.

When you reach the bottom of the lingerie, you look up again, smirking at Wanda's expectant eyes. You then deposit a soft kiss on her covered clit, and hear the redhead sigh heavily in response, her hands instinctively finding your hair.

You reluctantly remove the item, thinking it a crime to take such a beautiful item from her. Revealing Wanda's glistening cunt, your mouth fills with water again, and Wanda bites her lip at your hungry gaze.

Wanda watches you intently as you remove your pants and underwear. The redhead's breathing hitches with the sight of the strap, her walls clenching against nothing in anticipation.

You return close to her next, placing yourself on top of her, your face mere inches from hers again.

Capturing her lips on yours once more, you feel Wanda run her hands down your back, pressing you down, and you smile at her impatience.

With the closeness and absence of clothing, Wanda feels the strap rubbing against her center, and the redhead moans in anticipation, pushing her hips down to increase the contact.

Deciding to give her what she wants, you bring your hand up to the strap, pressing it up her pussy. Her slick coats the tip of the strap as the redhead whimpers, squeezing your shoulders in response.

When you line up the strap with her entrance, Wanda holds her breath in anticipation. And when you thrust the toy all at once inside her, the redhead moans loudly, the sound echoing through the room.

"So ready for me," you tease, pushing the strap inside her with ease, "I guess you have been thinking about me after all." You add, delighting in the way Wanda barely processes your words, too overwhelmed by pleasure. She manages to nod though.

"Y-yes... Fuck, don't stop." She lets out in between moans, but she didn't even have to ask. You continue with the thrusts, the sight of Wanda so helpless already, and the other end of the toy buried inside you working you up just as you do to her.

After a moment, you straighten your posture, the strap going even deeper inside her, hitting the spot that drives her wild. Wanda moans loudly in response, her hands gripping the sheet tightly at the sides of her body, and you smirk at the result.

No matter how many girls you hooked up with in your life, none of them would ever come close to Wanda. The redhead had the perfect reactions, every move, every sound, every look branded in the back of your mind like a burning tattoo, preventing you from sleeping or functioning properly for the next few days.

And you knew she felt the same way about you, you wouldn't be here if she didn't. But then flashes of the other day at the ice cream parlor cross your mind and you clench your jaw. You knew the effect you had on her, but you wanted to hear her say it. You'd make her say it.

"Tell me, princess," you start, and you look at her with an intensity so fiery that Wanda's whole body seems to catch fire, "does your friend fuck you like I do? Does anyone make you feel this good?"

Her walls clench against the toy vigorously. You had nothing serious, Wanda knew that very well. But there was something about your possessiveness that drove her crazy. She wanted to be yours, even if she wasn't.

"N-no... Only you-" the messy response as a result of the redhead's state of ecstasy is interrupted when you push the strap hard, hitting that spot inside her that makes her see stars. The redhead moans loudly, arching her back instinctively, "fuck, Y/n, right there... Don't stop."

She is close, you can feel it not only by her walls throbbing ever more fervently against the strap-on, but also by her expressions. When Wanda closes her eyes, surrendering to the pleasure, you smirk.

"Oh no," you rebuke, holding Wanda's face in your hand, and the redhead looks at you in confusion, "open your eyes, pretty girl, I want you to remember who's the face that makes you fall apart."

That's more than enough to send her over the edge, and Wanda falls apart beneath you, her cries louder and louder. You reach your high soon after, and you both moan together through your orgasms.

You lean down again, capturing the redhead's lips in a sloppy kiss. Wanda struggles to respond, but the numbness of her entire body and her completely ragged breathing make the action impossible.

Bringing your hand down, you pull the strap from her slowly, and smirk against her lips at the way she trembles intensely.

You move your kisses down her neck once more. Wanda lazily takes note of your kisses moving down her body, leaving marks in places you knew she would be able to hide. But just the thought of her remembering this night when she saw them was enough to make your core throb.

Making your way between her legs, you deposit soft kisses along her inner thighs. Wanda, finally realizing what is happening, frowns. "What-"

"I gotta taste you," you promptly interrupt, and before she can object, you stick your tongue out, giving her a long lick all over her pussy. Wanda sighs heavily, the air coming out shaky. You hum at her taste, raising your eyes to her again, "so good. Always so wet for me, baby."

The redhead's breath hitches with the praise, and you smile at the reaction. You run your tongue along her folds, savoring the taste of her arousal and the way her muscles respond to each new touch.

Being honest, Wanda wasn't ready for another one, not having had time to fully recover from her previous orgasm. But you explore her so eagerly, your lips and teeth providing her with a painful pleasure she never wanted to miss... She would never be able to say no to you.

You start with slow movements, teasing her clit just enough to make her want more. Soon you feel Wanda jerking her hips down, looking for less shallow strokes, and you smirk before providing her exactly what she wants.

As your movements become faster and more intense, the redhead feels her whole body break into increasingly powerful spasms, the discomfort in the pit of her stomach becoming more and more unbearable.

Wanda brings her hands to your hair then, guiding your head exactly where she wants it to be, and you don't object, giving her exactly what she wants.

Soon enough her legs close against your head, her inner thighs muffling the loud, desperate moans that escape the redhead's mouth. Wanda was sure she would be hoarse the next morning, but she didn't care. With all the heavenly sensations you provide her, it was more than worth it.

When she reaches her limit and the stimulation in her clit becomes too much, Wanda begins to push your head back with what little dexterity she has left. But you don't stop, her taste and smell overwhelming you in the best possible way.

"S-stop, Y/n/n, I can't anymore." She pleads breathlessly, a tired giggle escaping her lips, and with one last lick you pull away from her center, climbing your way up to her again.

As soon as your face is close enough, Wanda pulls you into a sloppy, eager kiss. The redhead moans as the taste of your mouth mingles with her own, and you feel a chill in your stomach that only she can provide.

You continue like this for a while, the kiss becoming more and more intense and desperate as the minutes tick by.

Eventually, the tip of the strap brushes against Wanda's pussy, lining up against her entrance, and the redhead's breath hitches, her hips immediately jerking downward in an attempt to increase the contact. With the movement, the toy enters into her ever so slightly, but she moans lustily against your lips.

"I thought you couldn't do it anymore." You tease, a smirk playing on your lips that only increases when Wanda smiles wickedly at you. "Maybe we should wait a bit? Or just stop for now."

You knew you couldn't stop now, your addiction to the redhead was too intense to be cured so quickly. The suggestion was merely an attempt to get a reaction out of her, and, boy, you did.

Wrapping her legs around your waist tightly, Wanda thrusts her body forward, reversing positions to straddle you.

With the change of stances, the strap-on is thrusted inside the redhead at once, eliciting a throaty moan from her. You watch the scene in awe, unable to do anything but admire the woman on top of you.

"We only stop when I say so." She warns, moving her hips as her eyes remain locked on yours in defiance. A hoarse chuckle escapes your lips at her speech and you sit up, bringing your hand to the back of her neck.

Wanda's eyes flutter shut at the feeling, her hips never stopping rocking against the strap. In one sudden movement you grip her hair tightly, forcing her to look at you, and a moan of both pleasure and pain escapes the redhead's lips as she obeys.

"You're not in charge here, princess." You remind her, your lips brushing against hers as your low tone of voice sends shivers throughout Wanda's body.

"But I enjoy fucking you too much, I won't object." You speak next, stroking her jawline. But Wanda doesn't move, she wouldn't dare. You smirk at the effect you have on her.

"Go on, keep riding me." You demand, your hand meeting the soft skin of her ass in a firm slap. A surprised gasp escapes Wanda's lips, her breathing visibly uneven.

You bring one hand to the back of Wanda's neck, pulling her into a hot kiss, while the other massages her ass to soothe the sting of the slap.

That interaction alone made lust run fervently in Wanda's blood. She loved the way you established dominance. But more than that, she loved it when you claimed it.

Wanda's walls clenched vigorously against the toy at the mere thought of you putting her in her place.

But that would have to wait. She could provoke you at another time. Now all she could think about was you fucking her hard, guiding her through her third orgasm of that night.

Wanda keeps riding her high, the swaying of her hips becoming increasingly uncoordinated and desperate.

You lie down on the bed again, bringing your hands to her waist and guiding her movements.

A series of loud moans escape Wanda's lips with the exponential increase in pleasure, her hands instinctively finding the sides of your stomach, her nails digging into your skin desperately.

You project your hips upward next and a loud cry escapes Wanda's lips, her back arching back immediately.

The sounds and the scene, again in conjunction with the strap against your center, guide you over your limit, you seeing stars each time Wanda pushes her hips down again.

You can tell that she is close too, not just being able to see it, but to feel it as well. As her moans become louder and more desperate, you smirk.

"Why don't you let your neighbors know who's the only person who can drive you to the edge like this?" You ask, your hands pulling her waist down faster and faster, and Wanda smiles, biting her lower lip at the idea. "Cum for me, baby."

You didn't even have to ask. The next moment Wanda reaches her high, her nails nearly ripping your skin as she moans your name out loud, the sound making your whole body shiver.

As Wanda collapses exhausted on top of you, you watch her in ecstasy. You wouldn't admit it, but being alone with her was undoubtedly better than any party you could ever go to.

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Built From Memories

Natasha x Reader, Yelena & Reader (Platonic).

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: This is fluff I think. But it does include head trauma and a funeral. Part of a prompt off with @cuinaminute229 @writing-house-of-m and @wandsgale

Natasha died in May 2023. This is not a story about someone who died. 

She was your best friend. A fellow Avenger. Your favourite person.

That’s how you came to know her sister. 

Yelena had been snapped by Thanos. Missing for 5 years, when she came back her sister was already dead. Then, she wished she was too. 

You’d been to one to host a small memorial for Natasha in the Old Stark Tower. Noone had recognised the blonde girl who’d shown up, nursed a drink and kept her distance. This hadn’t been surprising, a lot of Natasha’s friends were mysteries to each other. 

It was only when the girl didn’t leave, staying past even Clint’s family, that you decided to speak to her.

Her Russian accent was obvious. Her grief was even more apparent. 

Eventually, you had the courage to ask. 

‘Who was she to you?’

Yelena started crying. The grief inside you came to the surface and you felt tears slide down your cheeks too.

‘My sister.’ She told you at last.

You watched Yelena crying, your heart twisting with memories of Natasha. Of a love that you didn’t know how to get rid of.

‘Oh.’ You said dumbly. ‘We’re like family.’

It made everything easier after that. Yelena came back to your house that night. You talked about Natasha for hours before she crashed on your sofa. 

Yelena looked at you like she’d finally found someone who understood grief. The world was in chaos with its suddenly doubled population. And here you both were, wishing only for the one person who didn’t come home. 

That night also gave you the chance to tell her about one more piece of Natasha.

Natasha had left her a house. Well, technically, Tony Stark had left a house to Natasha. But, May 2023 hadn’t been a good month for the Starks either. 

So, that meant it was Yelena’s.

You outlined what you knew. It was an older building, late 1800s. More a mansion than a house, it had been in the Stark family for years. Tony had told you once, that he’d spent summers there when he was a child. 

Yelena listened, her expression wary. You watched indecision battle on her face. 

‘Where is the house?’ She asked at last.

‘Ohio, I think.’ You answered.

‘I want it.’ Yelena decided, expression clearing into one of determination. Her hand gripped yours, almost unthinkingly.

Yelena seemed both strong and fragile in the same breath. You squeezed her hand back. You’d known someone like her before.

—---

A few weeks later, Yelena was still sleeping on your sofa. You knew she could afford a hotel. Technically, she had a Stark approved mansion waiting for her. You didn’t wonder why she preferred your sofa.

Yelena loved Natasha and that’s what made her family.

(Then, alcohol had bonded you like nothing else could.)

One morning, she’d disappeared into the chaos of a New York City with double the population. A solicitor had arranged to give her the new house keys.

That evening, you’d found her on your doorstep, already half-drunk. She was holding a bottle of vodka, a handful of keys and a determined expression. 

‘Fuck the house.’ Yelena told you drunkenly an hour later, shoulder clumsily bumping yours.

‘Fuck the house.’ You echoed, clinking your shot glasses and downing the drink. 

A blur of time later, you were standing in the middle of the room. Yelena was gripping your shoulders to stay steady. You could feel yourself swaying regardless.

‘Move in with me.’ Yelena suggested, eyes glassy.

‘Absolutely.’ You agreed enthusiastically, before stumbling to the ground. 

—---

You woke up miserably the next morning. You were sprawled on the sofa, Yelena’s legs were dangling across you. Your head pounded, your mouth was uncomfortably dry. Squinting, you surveyed the mess you’d managed to make.

Open suitcases littered the room. Heaps of your clothes were half deposited in. 

‘Where are we going?’ You croaked a minute later, covering your eyes with your hand.

‘Ohio.’ Came a faint groan in response. 

—-------

It took two days to get to Ohio. You still couldn’t believe it had happened.

After squinting at the mess in your apartment for nearly an hour, you’d gotten to your feet. With your pounding head, it had really just seemed easier to move.

The next day, as you drove cross-country with Yelena, you could admit that it was more than that. 

Noone knew Natasha like Yelena did. You didn’t want to lose that.

There was nothing left that you wanted. Not in this world. Being an ex-Avenger with no friends in a too crowded city seemed like the worst option. 

You knew Yelena was thinking about similar things. 

You talked for hours as you drove. It was easier to stare ahead at the road and say everything that was hard to say.

Yelena told you about a jacket that she’d given Natasha. She started to describe the green material and you’d finished her sentence.

‘I remember. She wore it a lot.’ You told Yelena carefully, watching the way her jaw tightened at your words. 

‘I didn’t know.’ Yelena said at last, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

You felt sure then, that Yelena shouldn’t be alone either.

When you entered the state of Ohio. Yelena started to tell you about her childhood. About the mission that had made them sisters.

‘Why did you want to come back here?’ You asked at last.

Yelena looked at you. She gave you a half-hearted smile.

‘I’m tired of running from my past.’ She said simply.

Your heart stung with a memory of her sister. You nodded, too choked to speak. You turned to stare out the window, willing the overwhelming pain to lessen just a little. 

Sometimes, it was still hard to breathe without Natasha.

—-------

When you first drove up the long driveway to the Carbonell House, it felt like a journey’s end. Yelena got out of her truck and surveyed the front of her new property. 

You watched in amusement as she considered the exterior of the mansion thoughtfully.

‘Yes.’ She decided at last. ‘I think I could live here.’

You snorted, reaching into the back of the truck for some bags. 

‘What a relief.’ You commented sarcastically, throwing a heavy bag over to Yelena.

—----

The first few nights in the new house were a big adjustment. The house was coated in thick dust and the air was stale. Old fashioned furniture littered every room.

Yelena settled remarkably quickly, reminding you suddenly that she was an assassin with no previous address. You remembered the way Natasha would sit absurdly in a chair, unintentionally claiming any space she was in. 

You’d been impressed by her ability to make any place seem like her home.

Yelena had inherited the same trait.

She wandered around the dilapidated kitchens with the air of a professional chef in their high end restaurant. 

When she served up questionable mac and cheese, you smirked, realising her cooking talent was also shared with Natasha.

—----

It was a relief having someone else in the large, empty house. Little moments felt infinitely more comfortable. Working together on bigger tasks, making snarky comments at each other in passing, bringing each other coffee in the morning. The pair of you felt perfectly suited to being housemates. 

Every day, Yelena went out to explore the grounds surrounding the property. The Carbonell house was extremely private, thanks to the large gardens on all sides. Once in a while, you’d look out a window and try to imagine a young Tony Stark stuck here with only a nanny for company. 

Although, you’d quickly learned with your own explorations inside the house, that Tony had actually spent all of his time here in the basement.

You’d found a lab down there, a low tech version of the ones back in the Old Stark Tower. This lab was much more hyper-personalised to the interests of a 14 year old. There was even a faded poster of Ghostbusters on the wall, dating the set up perfectly to 1984. 

When you told Yelena about your discoveries, she snorted loudly.

‘What a loser.’ She commented, adding extra hot sauce to her mac and cheese.

It turned out Yelena had much more important plans on her mind.

One Tuesday, she left in her truck before the sun had even risen. When she returned, you watched her busy herself with a project in the grounds behind the house. 

You turned back to the lunch you were making. A pasta salad, the only thing you could make with the ingredients Yelena had bought from the grocery store, that wasn’t mac and cheese. 

Yelena came in for lunch. Dirt streaked across one of her cheeks, but her smile was beaming. She ate the pasta salad enthusiastically, ignoring your cringe when she added hot sauce.

After you’d stacked the dishes in the sink, Yelena took your hand.

‘C’mon.’ She urged you, with a glitter in her eyes. ‘I want to show you something.’

She led you confidently through the long grass to the cherry blossom tree, like she was walking a well-worn path. 

You stopped in your tracks as soon as you saw it.

The headstone underneath the tree was new. You knew what it would say before you were close enough to read it.

Natasha Romanoff, Missed always by those who loved her.

You hugged Yelena without warning. Holding her tightly as the feeling overwhelmed you. Yelena’s arms wrapped around you too. 

‘Thank you.’ You mumbled. A ray of sunlight fell across the garden and, for the first time in a long time, you felt warm. 

—----

You didn’t hate the house until after that.

It was an accumulation of little things that began to aggravate you. You hadn’t anticipated the realities of living in such an old house. 

The lights flickered almost every time you entered a room. You would grit your teeth, trying to stave off the rush of fear at the momentary darkness. 

Most nights, you’d hear strange noises outside. You’d peered out of every window, but there was never anything out there. You were starting to miss the luxury of sleeping through the night.

When you told Yelena about the strange noises, she’d explained to you in a purposefully patronising tone about the nature that existed outside of New York City. 

In fact, Yelena seemed to be flourishing more and more in this old space. 

You’d always wondered with Natasha, if she could ever feel truly at home, after a life as an assassin.

Yelena had begun to answer that question herself. 

A week after the gravestone’s arrival, you woke up again to the sound of Yelena’s truck driving away. You knew you should be frustrated by her abrupt departures. Strangely, you found yourself liking it. Sparks of spontaneity were something you missed the most from your life with the Avengers. 

She came back with a dog. Giant, fluffy and entirely impractical for the lifestyle you knew she’d been considering returning to.

‘This is Fanny.’ She told you proudly. 

‘Did she come with the name?’ You asked dryly.

‘No, she’s named after someone famous.’ Yelena answered elusively.

Your initial scepticism at your new housemate soon faded. There was no doubt that Fanny was saving Yelena’s life. 

You watched them training for hours at a time, in the meadow between the house and Natasha’s gravestone.

Some afternoons, you’d sit outside by the headstone and watch the latest display of obedience from Fanny. Yelena’s satisfaction and pride also made your chest feel warm.

One night, you heard Yelena crying. You paused by her bedroom door. She was mumbling in Russian, words you couldn’t piece together, except ‘Sestra’. Fanny whined slightly and Yelena responded. You felt the aching relief that Yelena had found someone she could cry with.

—--

Fanny’s only downside was her propensity to bark and howl. She’d fixate unexpectedly on different parts of the house, howling furiously until whatever invisible offender had moved on. 

Yelena seemed to have largely trained her out of the habit, except for the occasional early morning when you’d wake in alarm to manic barking at the foot of your bed. 

Despite the frustrating old house and the morning barking fits. You couldn’t help but feel that you were finally in the right place. 

Nothing had seemed to make sense after Natasha’s death. You’d been left with an emptiness that had never really left. 

Here in this new chaos, with Yelena and Fanny and a house to fix up,  breathing got easier.

—-----

A few months into your new life, Yelena announced at breakfast that she wanted to clear out the basement. You felt yourself getting defensive before she’d finished speaking. 

‘I like that he used to live here.’ You told her bluntly. ‘I like having those memories nearby.’

Yelena patted your arm. She’d started doing it ironically to calm you down, but now she did it so often it was second nature.

‘Don’t worry.’ She assured you. ‘We can box up the important stuff. I just want to see what we can salvage from the real tech.’

You nodded, relieved by her suggestion. 

‘Maybe, I’ll put the Ghostbusters poster on my wall.’ You decided with a smile. ‘What do you want with his tech anyway?’

Yelena looked at you, expression sober except for the tiny glimmer in her eye.

‘I want to clone Fanny.’ She told you seriously.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a laugh. ‘Uh huh.’

Fanny looked up from the wooden floor at the sound of her name. 

Yelena stood up, cupping Fanny’s face between her hands.

‘You’re so perfect, we need two.’ She told Fanny, who wagged her tail.

You started humming The Addam’s Family theme tune under your breath. 

Around lunch, Yelena called you from the basement asking for your help lifting something.

You were alarmed to find her holding a large steel beam. Her back was to you as you walked in. 

‘Isn’t that something important?’ You just about had time to ask, before Yelena turned around in surprise. 

The steel beam caught the side of your head, and before you knew it you were falling. 

Just as the hazy darkness fell, you heard a familiar voice.

—----

A week later, you were sitting in a hospital bed.

Yelena was complaining about hospital food and you were reminding her that she didn’t have to eat your leftovers.

It was strange to see the transformation in Yelena that had happened since your accident. You’d regained consciousness after a brief stint in a coma, and the first thing you’d seen was Yelena looking back at you, pale and sick with worry.

Yelena had told the hospital staff that she was your sister, so they’d let her stay. You thought about that a lot at night. You wondered if the shadow of Natasha would always sit between you and Yelena. If she’d be happy about the messy family you were beginning to form.

Yelena slept over in the hospital too. In fact, other than her regular checks on Fanny, she stayed entirely by your side.

You watched her, curled up in the fold-out bed provided by the hospital. She looked impossibly young when she was sleeping. Her hands twisted into the sheets. 

Part of you didn’t want to go back to the old house now. Not after the accident. Still, you knew you had to. It was home. It was where your family lived.

—----

Yelena supported your arm as she led you out of her truck.

Carbonell House stood grand and entirely unaffected by your absence. You could see the silhouette of Fanny, paws on the windowsill as she excitedly awaited your return.

Just as you reached the front of the house, you saw another silhouette appear behind Fanny. Natasha Romanoff stared back at you, eyebrows drawn in concern. You vomited into a bush. 

‘Dizzy?’ Yelena asked, worry obvious. 

‘Mmhmm.’ You mumbled, eyes stinging with tears. The doctors had said you may have some lingering symptoms. You prayed this wasn’t going to last long. 

Yelena walked you slowly to the living room, settling you into one of the old armchairs. She disappeared for a few moments, then returned with an old metal bucket. She placed the bucket on the floor and nudged it over to you with her foot.

‘Thanks.’ You mumbled, covering your eyes as you tried to breathe through the nausea. 

‘Hi Fanny.’ You heard a voice call a moment later. It took a half second for you to realise that it wasn’t Yelena speaking.

You gasped, hands falling from your face.

Natasha stood in the corner, talking softly to the akita. Her voice was low, and you recognised the familiar tone of her worry. 

Her head lifted at the sound of your gasp. Your eyes locked and you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate.

Gasping breaths racked through you loudly, startling Yelena entirely. 

‘What is it?’ You could hear her panic. Yelena’s hands touched your shoulders.

‘I can see Natasha.’ You admitted, with barely enough breath to speak. Natasha’s eyes widened, her hand touched her chest.

Yelena moved away from you.

‘Why would you say that?’ She whispered angrily. 

‘I think I’m hallucinating.’ You told her miserably, hating the absurd pain you must be causing her.

‘Stop.’ Yelena demanded.

Natasha was still standing by the door. You squeezed your head between your hands. 

‘I don’t know how.’ You whispered.

Yelena made a sound, and you knew she was crying too. Guilt rolled through you.

‘Don’t imagine something like that.’ Yelena demanded again, voice full of hurt. 

You didn’t respond, you stared at the ground, afraid to look up and see Natasha again. 

You heard Yelena leave the room, the soft trot of Fanny following behind.

You closed your eyes. It was easier to calm down without the hallucination staring back at you. You decided to take ten deep breaths before you opened them again.

You did, and Natasha was still standing across the room. Eyes wide, arms wrapped around herself. She stared at you.

With no other plan to hand, you closed your eyes and tried a hundred breaths this time.

—----

A hundred breaths later, you opened your eyes again. 

Natasha remained. She was sitting in an armchair across from you now. Her legs were sprawled familiarly over the side.

Your heart skipped a beat. She looked so real. How could this be built from memories?

You said her name and Natasha’s attention snapped to you. 

You stood up, hand shaking as you tried to touch her. You heard Natasha’s breath hitch too. Your fingers touched the worn fabric of the armchair beneath her. 

Definitely a hallucination.

You turned away, hoping to leave Natasha behind.

—-----

She followed you. 

In fact, Natasha followed you all day. You could hear Yelena crying in her room. You didn’t go in to apologise, knowing that you could only make it worse.

It was impossible to ignore your hallucination. Especially now that she was talking. 

Natasha spoke to you all day. Old memories and new commentary mixed together in her constant monologue. She stayed by your shoulder, asking questions about Yelena, about you, about life since the snap.

At first you tried pacing, walking laps through the house and trying to shake her off. 

When that didn’t work, you tried to distract your brain. You opened your laptop and scrolled through some current events, eventually playing a short news programme.

Your heart skipped with relief when silence fell. Then, you looked over your shoulder and saw Natasha right behind you, watching the laptop screen too. 

The hallucination held a sickening level of realism. Natasha touched her lip thoughtlessly, lost in concentration at the news. You snapped your laptop shut, unnerved. 

You took the medication for your head injury with religious devotion. You decided that if the hallucination was still there in the morning, you’d ask Yelena to drive you back to the hospital.

—--

That night, you stared up at the dark ceiling, willing yourself to get some sleep.

Natasha came into your room quietly. She knelt on the floor by your bed, her hand resting near you. You felt sick again.

You closed your eyes.

Natasha kept talking, her voice low.

‘I’m sorry you’re scared.’ She told you. ‘I promise I’m not in your head. I don’t know how you can see me, but I really am here.’

You screwed your eyes shut tighter. 

Then, Natasha told you some impossible things.

She told you about the way she felt. How she’d always hoped for something more than friendship with you. That she loved you in a way that never seemed to stop.

You could hear the tears in her voice. It cracked when she mentioned Yelena.

She talked about the family they’d never quite had the chance for. Could you tell her that Natasha loved her? That she was an idiot for naming Fanny after her old fake ID.

‘Please go away.’ You begged at last. ‘I know you’re not there.’

This time, Natasha left.

—--

You slept fitfully. When you woke, Yelena was lying next to you in your bed.

The first thing you saw was her wary stare looking back at you. You startled violently in surprise.

‘I thought you might actually have some terrible hallucination causing injury and then die in the night.’ Yelena told you bluntly, a slight waver in her voice giving away her worry.

You started crying again. Slow and silent tears slid down your cheeks. You hated the stress you’d caused for her.

You stared back up at the ceiling, remembering all the things that the hallucination had told you in the night. 

‘Please tell me that at least a part of it was real.’ You whispered to yourself.

‘What happened?’ Yelena asked after a moment. Her voice was weary, prepared for the pain of your broken imagination.

You told her everything, a miserable confession.

Yelena stiffened, sitting up in the bed as you continued to speak.

When you finished talking, Yelena was silent.

You forced yourself to sit up too. A sobering realisation hit you. You covered your face with your hands again.

‘Oh no.’ You groaned. ‘I’m falling in love with my hallucination. This is so fucked up.’

Yelena’s hand covered your arm. You turned to her when she started to grip it tightly.

‘I never told you about Fanny.’ She said quietly. 

Your head tilted automatically in confusion, you ignored the slight stabbing pain the motion brought.

‘She’s named after Natasha’s fake ID from Budapest.’ Yelena continued. ‘How could you know that?’

‘I didn’t.’ You answered, feeling alarmed. ‘It was just the hallucination.’

Yelena turned to you, her eyes wide.

‘What’s my favourite insect?’ She asked you suddenly.

‘How the fuck am I supposed to know?’

Yelena dragged you out of bed.

‘Where is Natasha now?’ She demanded.

‘Gone.’ You answered, scanning the room in relief.

Suddenly, Yelena whistled an unfamiliar sound. You briefly started to wonder if you were still in a coma. 

Natasha appeared suddenly through the closed door. She looked uncertain. She whistled softly.

‘Oh.’ You breathed, still floored by the sight of her. ‘She’s back and she’s making that same whistle.’

‘Fuck.’ Yelena whispered, eyes scanning blindly over the space where you were looking. ‘Ask her my favourite insect.’

You cleared your throat, ready to ask. But Natasha was already answering. 

‘Easy.’ She told you with a half smile. ‘Fireflies.’

‘Fireflies.’ You echoed. 

Yelena swore creatively.  ‘It’s her.’

‘You’re a ghost?’ You asked Natasha, not believing Yelena’s conclusion.

Natasha nodded.

‘I tried to get you to see me when you first arrived.’ She said quietly. ‘But nothing worked. It took weeks before I could even get the lights to flicker.’

‘You love me.’ You said dumbfoundedly, as the final pieces clicked together.

Natasha wiped silent tears from her cheeks.

‘Yeah.’ She answered simply.

‘I love you too.’ You told her, heart thudding in your chest. Natasha looked at you like you were a miracle. You knew your expression matched. 

Inside you, unbearable loneliness warred with a spark of hope.

‘How do we get you back?’ Yelena shouted blindly across the room.

You and Natasha both flinched at the sound. 

‘She still has her ears.’ You commented dryly. Yelena rolled her eyes. A small laugh of strange joy escaped her and you squeezed her hand.

Natasha cleared her throat and your attention returned to her.

‘Have either of you read Tony’s notebooks?’ She asked.

—---

Natasha explained everything as you walked down to the basement. She’d read through everything in the basement with painstaking slowness. It had taken the best part of a day to successfully turn each page. 

Tony’s Ghostbusters phase had been based, inevitably, in a lot of science.

The level of technological jargon from Natasha was soon beyond you, and so you became a vessel of communication between the sisters.

You narrated Natasha’s conclusions from Tony’s work, her ideas for altering the machines that Tony had built. Her plan to get home.

Yelena nodded as if it all made perfect sense.

She started taking apart the machines around you immediately, a look of absolute concentration on her face.

Yelena worked with a diligence that you had never seen before. You realised that she was someone entirely new when she had hope.

—--

It took Yelena over a day to build the machine. You stayed with her, as a means of communication and company, only leaving the basement to bring back hastily made sandwiches and to let Fanny run outside. 

As the hours passed, the sisters communication devolved into snarky comments, old in jokes and light teases. You realised with sudden clarity, just how familiar they were too each other.

You had known them separately, but they were not meant to be apart.

—-

At last, Yelena and Natasha both agreed that the machine was complete. 

Just as you began to prepare for attempting the impossible, Yelena started muttering about checking the calculations one more time.

Natasha's eyebrow raised in confusion and you knew that it wasn't necessary.

You watched Yelena's hands shaking as she scribbled a note and understood. You took her hands between yours, Yelena looked up at you, seeming younger than ever.

‘Hey, Dr. Frankenstein.’ You called carefully. ‘I think it's ready.’ 

Yelena gave a shaky breath and nodded. She squeezed your hands back.

Natasha moved to stand beneath the long crane-like arm of the machine.

You and Yelena stood behind a large screen as Yelena began to touch the carefully decided sequence of dials. At last, she pressed the final one.

A bright flash of light and Natasha was no longer there.

—---

Fear bubbled up immediately inside you. You exchanged a look with Yelena and saw the same panic in her eyes. You both hurried from the room. At a jog, you searched through the house, calling out Natasha’s name. A sick sense of hopelessness filled you.

Then, you heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

Fanny was barking outside. 

You forgot how to breathe as you ran across the meadow, Yelena by your side. 

—----

Natasha and Fanny were standing under the cherry blossom tree.

Natasha was smiling. Elation burned through your chest.

As soon as you were close enough, she dropped something into your hand.

The strange sensation threw you. You looked down at the earthworm squirming in your palm.

‘Thank you.’ You said stupidly.

‘I just picked that up.’ Natasha told you, eyes gleaming. 

Your mouth dropped as you understood her meaning. 

You reached out, and touched her shoulder.

Natasha died in May 2023. This is not a story about someone who died.

------

Tagging:

@wonderingnerd  @whofan88 @lostandsearching @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo

@xxromanoffxx @b-5by5 @peggycarter-steverogers @iblameitonclint @red1culous @reminiscingtonight @mindofwesley @blackxwidowsxwife @wandaromanova @peabrain112 @theperfectlovestory @wellsayhelloaagin @owloftheshadows @strangegardentaco @hallecarey1 @marvels-writings @alexzz13 @ic-4u @007giuliastonem @natashabelovas @iliketozoneout @chasethemoon @p0orbaby @rightwereyouleftme @whataloadof @fxckmiup @women-am-i-right @pleasantbearscissorstoad @blackwidow-3 @nowthisisliving27 @wandastan-2 @jedi-luca @blackwidowismylove @i-wanna-be-a-deer

Just read this fluffy masterpiece 🥺

Poppins - Scarlett Johansson

Warnings: fluff, refers to Scarlett’s children throughout (I obviously mean no disrespect and do not personally know these children, I am simply referring to them via names and have no intent behind it other than to simply write something cute)

POV: Scar gets caught up at work so you offer to pick Rose up from school and Cosmo up from daycare and watch them until she got home. Reluctantly she agrees, having no other option. Scarlett had only recently introduced you to the kids and whilst she trusted you 100% to look after them, she worried about what could happen without her there. She didn’t want you to stress or feel any obligation towards her children.

You loved babies but you could not for the life of you understand why that baby would not fall asleep for you. You had almost exhausted all options until little Rose came to your rescue. Sleepily she wandered into the nursery and whispered

“You have to sing to him”

Turning around, cradling the baby and simultaneously bouncing every which way as the cries drowned your ears.

“Huh?”

“If he doesn’t go to sleep when he’s held, mommy puts him back in the crib and sings to him. He goes to sleep like that” she said with a snap of her fingers

You hummed in acknowledgment.

“Thank you little one, you are a true superhero!” She giggles slightly and you smile to yourself, she looks just like her mother “Why don’t you go and choose a bedtime story and as soon as I’m done here I’ll come and read it to you.”

“Can’t I stay here with you? Just until Mom comes home? I don’t want to go to sleep until she’s back”

Weighing up your options, you eventually agree to let her stay.

“Why don’t you go and grab the guitar from downstairs honey? You can help me sing to this little monkey” you smile before pulling a funny face at the baby and just like that, she excitedly runs to find the guitar, her laughter echoing through the halls.

When she returns, you slowly put Cosmo back down into the crib and seat yourself in the large rocking chair. Rose jumps up onto the small couch next to you with a blanket wrapped tightly around herself and a stuffed animal tightened in her grip.

“Alright Rosie posie, you’ve gotta pick the song okay?”

“Ummm… I want ‘A Million Dreams’ from The Greatest Showman! Mom sings that one all the time, it’s my favourite!”

“Ok, I think I know that one. You ready? Now we’ve got to sing quietly, we’re trying to make him sleep remember, not stay awake”

Rose nodded back at you and you began to quietly strum the guitar.

The two of you started to sing the song together, occasionally alternating lines and singing the chorus together. Eventually, Rose started yawning to herself, turning away from you to hide her tiredness - probably in attempt to steal a later bedtime from you without her mother being there to prevent it. You carried on singing and as you reached the end of the song, the soft humming of the guitar beneath your fingertips faded into complete silence.

You looked down at the sleeping baby, entirely thankful that Rose had stepped in when she did and told you the trick to getting him to snooze. Then you turned to the small blonde, tucked up into a ball beside you.

Putting the guitar down as quietly as you could you stood up from the chair. Reaching down to pick up the girl, you carried her out of the room as silent as a mouse and headed towards her own bedroom.

When you had repositioned her beneath the covers, she stirred a little

“Y/n…” she murmured

“Shhh, honey… go back to sleep. Your mommy will be home soon and I’ll send her in to say goodnight to you okay?”

“But you haven’t read me a bedtime story yet”

“Okay, do you want me to stay and read you one?”

She nodded into her pillow.

“Can you read Rapunzel?”

“Of course.” You started to read the book but as soon as you finished the first page, you could already hear the soft snores from the girl and you rolled you eyes playfully. You walked quietly to put the book back on the shelf and as you turned around you noticed a figure standing against the doorframe.

How did you not notice Scarlett standing there sooner? How did she manage to get upstairs without you even hearing her?how long has she been stood there?

She smiled at you and you followed her silently towards her bedroom.

“God, you really scared me then I thought someone was in the house” you joked when you had closed the door

She chuckled as she pulled you in for a hug. This hug was different than any other hug you two had shared before. It was urgent, passionate - it felt as though she was squeezing you much tighter than usual.

“You okay?” You asked as you pulled away, noticing the small tears clouding her eyes

“Yeah” she smiled “I am very much okay”

You looked at her confusingly before she placed her hands on either side of your face and kissed you so tenderly.

“Thank you for being here today, I’m so sorry you had to have them so late on your own”

She started to move around the room, changing into some pyjamas and pulling up the covers of the bed as you climbed in.

“What are you talking about? I loved it. After I picked them up, Rose and I made cupcakes for her school bake sale tomorrow and Cosmo even help to decorate some with us after his nap, don’t worry I got the most adorable pictures to show you. Rose ate all of her vegetables at dinner and even asked for more so I promised her we’d watch a Disney film and she picked Encanto, of course,” you rolled your eyes jokingly, knowing that she had already subjected you and Scarlett to watching it 3 times that week and it was all she could talk about “Then she fell asleep in Cosmo’s room whilst we were singing to him so I carried her back to her room and”

“You sang to Cosmo?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hope that’s okay?! Rose said you did it whenever he couldn’t sleep and she wanted me to play ‘A Million Dreams’ and I couldn’t think of any other way to- I’m sorry, should I not have done that? Of course I shouldn’t of, it’s not my place to-”

“Y/n, calm down honey,” she smiled, bring herself close to you as she got under the covers “I’m glad you sang to him. It’s cute actually. And watching you read to Rose made my heart explode into like a million tiny little pieces. She really likes you”

“You think so?”

“I know so” she corrected as she brushed away the stray hair that framed your face, the two of you lay impossibly close to each other. “I love you y/n”

“I love you too Scarlett”

“And I’m glad that the baby monitor I have installed in Cosmo’s room has such good quality video and audio playback” she smirked, pulling up an app on her phone

“Uh- what?!” You asked embarrassingly as she pressed play on the video

“Don’t worry, Poppins!” She joked “I’m sure you’re singing isn’t a bad as mine”

“Oh my god y/n I’m gonna cry this is so cute. Look at the way she looking at you!” She fawns as she points to her daughter - her head in her hands and her eyes wide as she watches you play the guitar. You smile at the image. You had no idea. “Oh my- I’ve got to get that printed out or something holy…”

The night continued with Scarlett watching and rewatching the footage of you in the nursery, smiling to herself and feeling nothing but complete adoration for your relationship with her children. She was so lucky.