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maximotts · 12 hours
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Confessions Wanda I saw it and all I could think of was her, she's a cutie patootie
I’m dying at the caption lmaooo yes she’s definitely the type to be doing this, probably completely unaware how it affects you, but she’d know soon enough 😌
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maximotts · 2 days
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maximotts · 3 days
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maximotts · 3 days
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Post something or i will.... Scare you
Like that...
BOO 👻
Scared ?
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maximotts · 9 days
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X-Men: The Wedding Special #1 - "Something Borrowed, Something Blue" (2024)
written by Kieron Gillen art by Rachel Stott & Michael Bartolo
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maximotts · 9 days
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𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 | natasha romanoff
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pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!singlemother!reader
summary — ‧₊˚ after a series of misfortunes, a knight in shining armor saves you and exacts retribution for you.
word count — ‧₊˚ 4.8k
warning(s) — ‧₊˚ tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort(?), pet names (sweetheart, love), cursing, gambling, natasha and reader having a crush on each other, mentions of alcohol, punching, reader getting hurt, bruises, reader having the cutest moments with daughter, mentions of guns, clint being such a w in this fic, implied character death (not natasha or reader), mentions of drugs
authors note — ‧₊˚ finally finished this request sent a month ago :’) this isn’t the best i’ve written, but awjfjaw the amount of soft fluffy moments between reader and daughter is absolutely adorable :3 <3
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The dimly lit basement was illuminated by flickering neon lights outside, which created an unsettling colour through the stained glass. Even though it was late, the passing of time didn’t seem to matter as hopeless souls gathered to drown themselves in their sorrows. It was almost suffocating, the smell of cigarettes mingled with human perspiration and the tainted air from spilt alcohol.
Natasha surveyed the room, her keen eyes taking in the shabby decor — mismatched furniture, cracked tiles, and worn-out leather chairs. Her eyes then darted to the motley collection of people surrounding a table. Their murmurs blended into the low hum of an old jukebox playing a melancholic tune. Her eyes moved from one weary face to another. Huddled together, an older woman with a permanent scowl etched into her face, a burly figure with a nervous tic in his left eye, and a muscular man — a sleek, smooth-talking gambler known only as Victor. 
But amongst all of them, her gaze lingered on you, the youngest woman in the group, whose eyes never left the cards in hand. 
Natasha could sense your frustration, the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat and the way your hands trembled slightly as you placed your bet, the deep sigh that escaped your lips. It was clear you were in over your head, just like so many others around the table.
Natasha took a slow sip of her cup of water, letting the liquid warmth quench her thirst. She knew that she couldn’t afford to get distracted by alcohol, not tonight. Victor, her target for tonight, was slippery, a master at evading the law and anyone who dared to challenge him. Not only did he like gambling and taking money away from the poor, but he was rumoured to be involved in something much darker — involving a new drug that was beginning to surface on the streets. It was whispered about in hushed tones, but S.H.I.E.L.D. caught wind of it, of its effects unknown but rumoured to be potent and addictive.
Furthermore, it was obvious to Natasha that Victor was cheating. The man dealing the cards was one of his henchmen, subtly slipping him the cards he needed to win. Natasha’s keen observation skills caught the sleight of hand and the coded signals exchanged between Victor and his accomplice. 
She had been assigned to a solo mission to capture him. Not only was she doing her job as an Avenger, but she also wanted justice. She wanted to exact revenge for those who couldn’t fight for themselves, for those whose lives Victor had ruined.
Her eyes flicked back to Victor, who was grinning as he raked in another pile of chips. His smooth demeanour masked the predator within, but Natasha could see the calculating glint in his eyes. She’d spent days tracking him, gathering evidence, and now she was finally confident and close enough to take him down.
But first, she had a pull in her gut to ensure you got out of this mess. A feeling to help the weak, perhaps. Natasha couldn’t shake the feeling that you were here not by choice but by necessity. Perhaps you had debts to pay or were trying to find a way out of a bad situation. Either way, she couldn’t just stand by and watch you fall deeper into an abyss.
She pushed off from the bar and made her way towards the table. 
“Mind if I join?” Natasha asked in a firm but calm voice. She pulled out a chair beside you and sat down without waiting for an answer. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash, placing it on the table
 Victor’s smile widened for a brief moment before he regained his composure. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “The more, the merrier.”
Natasha glanced around the table. “I don’t have the money in chips,” she said, “but I think this should cover it.”
The dealer nodded, exchanging her cash for a stack of chips. Natasha arranged them in front of her, drawing the attention of everyone around. You shifted again in your seat, trying to focus on your cards, but the sight of Natasha only made you lose more focus. Her beauty was captivating, with her striking features framed by waves of red hair that fell elegantly around her shoulders. Her green eyes, sharp and piercing, reminded you of the vivid colour of an emerald gemstone. You could get lost in them.
It was hard not to be mesmerised by her, especially when she kept turning her gaze towards you, her expression softening with a hint of encouragement as she offered a reassuring nod. The action made your stomach flutter, and you could almost feel your heart beat faster. Her beauty was a distraction, and you felt a pang of frustration as you realised you were going to get distracted by someone as beautiful as Aphrodite.
Fuck, how were you going to win and pay off your debts if you were this weak to attraction?
Natasha seemed to sense your struggle. She leaned in slightly, whispering. “Focus, love.”
The nickname sent a shiver up your spine, and you let out a shaky exhale as you gripped your cards tighter. Natasha knew she was beautiful, there was no denying that, but she didn’t realise that it’d have such a huge effect on you. She rubbed her teeth against her lower lip, a light blush colouring her cheeks.
Victor’s eyes flicked between you, his interest piqued by Natasha’s involvement. He could see your distraction, and it amused him. To him, you were just another easy prey. He leaned back, confident that the game was in his favour.
And he was right. Despite Natasha’s encouragement, your bad luck continued. As the last of your chips disappeared, you slumped back in your chair, defeated. Natasha frowned, reaching over and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.
 “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
You shook your head, giving Natasha a feigned smile. “It’s fine.”
Victor leaned back smugly, watching the exchange in front of him. “Tough luck,” he said, his tone dripping with false sympathy. He shrugged his shoulders, smirking. “Maybe next time.”
Natasha’s eyes locked onto Victor’s, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t count on it,” she replied. 
She stood up, helping you to your feet. As you left the table, a permanent frown etched on your face as a series of thoughts swirled in your mind. You couldn’t shake off the bitterness of your defeat, the image of all the money you’d earned slipping away like leaves in the wind. You replayed the game, doubt gnawing on you as you questioned every decision you made at the table. 
As Natasha and you stepped outside, the flickering neon lights from the street lamps cast an even brighter eerie hue over the street. 
Natasha looked at you, an expression of concern on her face. She didn’t know why she made a split-second decision to help you instead of taking down her Victor. She had her chance. She was right there. She could’ve waited at the bar longer until he’d gotten his fill of money for tonight, before capturing him quietly in the alleyway. But when she saw you — dishevelled, your hair a mess, and your knee jumping nervously — desperation radiating from your every movement, she knew she couldn’t just focus on her primary goal. You needed a lifeline, and she couldn’t deny that. Natasha knew that helping you was the right choice, even if it meant delaying her mission. She had to believe that some things were more important than revenge.
She’ll get him the next time.
“You okay?” she asked softly. 
You nodded, but your eyes looked so void of life. 
With a sigh of sympathy, Natasha added. “Listen, I know I’m just a stranger, but-”
You glanced at her and interrupted her, sounding sceptical. You spoke, your voice hardly audible above a whisper, “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me”
Natasha’s mouth opened and closed as she searched for the right words. She didn’t have a simple answer. She had spent so long focused on her mission that this unexpected detour caught her off guard. It wasn’t like her to lose sight of her mission’s goal this easily.
After a moment, she finally spoke. “You looked like you needed help,” she said simply, her tone even, almost indifferent. She didn’t want to show the hurricane of emotions inside her. 
You stared at her, trying to read her expression, but her face easily concealed her feelings. She was frustrated at herself for getting distracted, of course. But the only person she could blame was herself.
Natasha looked away, scanning the street as if assessing the surroundings for any potential threats. “Let’s get you home safe,” she said.
You nodded, still unsure of what to make of her. You knew it was reckless, bringing a stranger into your home, especially with your daughter inside. Or maybe you wanted to spend a few more minutes with Natasha before she’d just be another stranger on the streets. A combination of confusion and exhaustion clouded your judgment. You were too tired to care, too drained to weigh the potential negative consequences. You just wanted to get through the night before your shift tomorrow.
You led Natasha to your apartment building, a run-down structure that seemed to sag under the weight of its disrepair. The smell of decay and neglect permeated the air. The stairwell echoed with sounds of a couple arguing and a baby crying as the both of you climbed the creaking stairs.
When you reached your floor, you stopped in front of your apartment door with a sigh of relief. Natasha’s gaze wandered to the door across from yours. It was her apartment, but she didn’t think it was worth mentioning for now. Instead, she noted the rusty doorknob and peeling paint on your door.
You fumbled for your keys, trembling slightly, and unlocked the door. As it swung open, you were greeted by the sight of your daughter standing just inside, her wide eyes filled with worry and relief.
“Mama,” she whispered, rushing forward to wrap her small arms around your waist. You hugged her tightly, the tension in your shoulders easing in her embrace.
“Everything okay, sweetheart?” you asked your daughter, your voice straining to mask the exhaustion in your voice. “You should be asleep.”
She nodded, her eyes still wide with concern. “Had a nightmare. Couldn’t sleep without you.”
Your heart ached at her words. “I’m here now,” you reassured her, stroking her hair gently.
Natasha watched the scene with a softened expression. Despite her tough exterior, the sight of your daughter’s innocent concern and your tender actions tugged at something deep within her. She felt a tingling deep in the pit of her stomach, and an endearing smile appeared on her face. She followed you quietly, clicking the door closed behind her.
“Mhm.” Her gaze shifted to Natasha. “Who’s this, Mama?” she asked curiously, tilting her head to the side.
“This is…” 
Shit, you didn’t even know her name. 
Natasha smiled, crouching down to your daughter’s level. “Hi there,” she said warmly. “My name’s Natasha. I’m… your Mama’s friend from work. I love your toy lion.” She said, pointing to your daughter’s stuffed toy lion held tightly to her chest.
Your daughter perked up a little. Natasha stood up, her expression shifting back to one of attentiveness as she looked at you.
“Alright, sweetheart,” you said, gently guiding your daughter towards her bedroom. “It’s time for bed. Go get in bed and I’ll tuck you in shortly.”
Your daughter smiled, giving Natasha a wave of her hand before excitedly heading to her room. You watched her go and made sure she went into her bedroom before turning to Natasha.
You finally introduced yourself. “I’m sorry for all this… And I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Y/N. Thanks for accompanying me home tonight.”
Natasha gave a small, understanding smile. “It’s alright. I had to make sure you got home safe.”
“I appreciate it, but you don’t have to stay. We’ll be fine.”
Natasha hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll leave you be, but if you ever need anything, I’m just across the hall.”
You looked surprised. “You live here?”
Natasha gave a slight shrug. “Yeah, I just moved in a few days ago. It’s a small world, I guess.”
You managed a tired smile before taking her hand and squeezing it. She squeezed your hand back. You pressed a gentle, soft kiss to her cheek which, in turn, made her smile. “Well, thank you, again, Natasha, and goodnight. I hope we cross paths again.”
Natasha’s cheeks flushed as she nodded, quickly making her way to the door. “Goodnight,” she said softly, giving you one last reassuring look before stepping out into the dimly lit hallway.
As the door closed behind her, you felt a strange mix of relief and gratitude. You turned back to your daughter’s room, the faint sound of her getting ready for bed pulling you back to the present. For now, you could move on from your streak of bad luck tonight, and you could focus on what mattered most — taking care of your little girl.
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Natasha made her way back to her apartment, leaning against the door as she let out a slight squeal of happiness. She touched her cheek, feeling the lingering warmth on her skin where you had kissed her. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, an unexpected rush of emotion making her feel like a schoolgirl experiencing her first crush. She felt a sense of protectiveness and a growing bond with you, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.
Shaking the thoughts away, she remembered what she wanted to do. She pulled out her phone and dialled Clint’s number.
Clint answered on the second ring. “Hey, Natasha. What’s up?” 
“Hey, Clint,” Natasha replied, her voice low. “I need you to do a background check for me.”
“On who?”
“Y/N,” she said, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “I don’t have her last name, but she lives across the hall from me.”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing yet,” Natasha replied, choosing her words carefully. “But I have a feeling she might need some help.”
“Alright, give me five minutes. I’ll see what I can find,” Clint said, his tone serious.
“Thanks, Clint. I owe you one.”
“Just looking out for you, Nat. Take care.”
Natasha hung up the phone, feeling a combination of apprehension and determination. She may have left you and your daughter for the night, but she wasn’t about to let you slip through the cracks.
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The next morning, you woke up feeling slightly refreshed than the night before, but you could still feel the exhaustion in your bones. You rubbed your eyes and stretched, trying to shake off the grogginess. As you glanced around the room, you noticed your daughter curled up beside you, still fast asleep. You accidentally fell asleep in her bedroom.
Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her face. “Mama’s gotta get ready for work. Sleep well, sweetheart.”
She stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. With a sigh, you reluctantly removed yourself from the warmth of the bed and made your way to your bedroom to get ready for work. You were in need of a much-needed shower to wash off the grime from last night. But as you reached for the doorknob, a series of knocks from the front door interrupted your thoughts, causing your heart to race with anticipation. 
Could it be Natasha, returning to check on you?
With a hopeful smile, you swung open the door, only to be met with a sight that sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t Natasha standing there. It was Victor, the smooth-talking gambler from the night before, and also your debt collector. Your smile dropped instantly.
“Where’s the money you owe me, huh?” Your throat tightened with apprehension as you stepped out into the hallway, closing your door behind you. You didn’t want to wake up your daughter. “I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered, your words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “I don’t have it right now, but I’ll get it to you as soon as I can, I promise.”
But Victor wasn’t interested in apologies or promises. His eyes narrowed with disdain as he cut you off, his tone seething with anger. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t pay bills. You’re also behind on rent. I gave you a chance to win some money last night,” he spat, his words like venom. “This is the second time you haven’t gotten me my money on time. You think I’m running a fucking charity here?”
You knew you were in deep trouble. 
“I’ve had enough of your excuses,” he growled, his voice a menacing rumble. “You’re out of chances.”
Before you could react, Victor’s fist collided with your jaw with a sickening thud, sending shockwaves of pain coursing through your body. Stars danced in your vision as you stumbled backwards, the taste of iron filling your mouth.
You tried to defend yourself desperately, but Victor’s relentless onslaught on your body left you helpless, your attempts futile against his brute strength. Blow after blow rained down upon you, each one driving you further into agony.
He didn’t stop until you lay battered on the floor. 
Victor spat at your feet. “You have until tomorrow,” he snarled, his voice dripping with malice. “Get me my money, or next time, it won’t just be a beating you’ll receive.”
As he turned to leave, you struggled to push yourself up from the ground, pain shooting through every limb as you clung to consciousness. You struggled with each breath, your body screaming for mercy. Your vision was blurred, sounds muffling into a distant echo as you succumbed to unconsciousness.
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Natasha returned from her morning run, her breath coming in steady puffs of steam in the chilly air as she walked up the stairs to her apartment. As she approached the corridor, her eyes landed on a figure slumped against the door of the apartment across from hers. She quickened her pace, her heart hammering in her chest at the sight before her. You lay unconscious on the ground, your body broken and bruised. She rushed to your side, dropping to her knees as she assessed the extent of your injuries.
“Y/N!” She exclaimed, her voice filled with panic. “Can you hear me?”
Gently, Natasha cradled your head in her lap, shaking your shoulders with urgency to rouse you from your unconscious state. “Come on, wake up.” she urged.
You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering open. “Natasha?” you mumbled weakly, recognising her voice easily. Confusion was evident in your voice as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.
With a groan, you attempted to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you back down. Natasha’s expression softened with concern as she gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Easy now,” she said soothingly. “You’re injured. Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”
Natasha managed to get you to your feet, albeit unsteadily. You leaned against her as she helped you into her apartment. Once inside, she guided you to her couch, where you could rest while she fetched an ice pack.
You scanned your surroundings. Your eyes widened in surprise as they landed on the dining table. Stacks of reports and files littered the surface, but what caught your attention were the numerous guns laid out neatly beside them. You couldn’t help but gulp nervously at the sight.
“What’s all this?” You asked, your voice weak but curious, gesturing towards the array of firearms.
Natasha didn’t have to look at you to know that you were talking about the guns. She paused, stilling herself before she sighed. She turned to face you, her expression unreadable as she returned with the ice pack from the freezer compartment of the fridge.
“Work stuff.” She replied cryptically. It was obvious to you that she didn’t want to continue the conversation further. She handed you the ice pack. “Here, hold this against your cheek, it should help with the swelling.”
You accepted the ice pack gratefully, pressing it against your sore cheek with a wince.
Natasha had a frown on her face as she watched you silently for a moment before finally speaking up. “Who did this to you, Y/N?”
You hesitated, unsure of how much you should reveal. You kept repeating to yourself that Natasha was a stranger, a beautiful and potentially dangerous stranger in fact, but no one had ever cared for you as much as her. Not even your ex-husband gave you this much concern. Seeing the genuine worry in Natasha’s eyes, you sighed, leaning back against the backrest.
“It was Victor,” you said, your face cringing as you uttered his name. “He’s been pursuing me to get the money I owe him.”
Natasha’s jaw tightened with rage as her expression darkened. She whispered under her breath, “That fucking bitch.” Her imagination was already running wild with all the things she would do to him if she got her hands on him. 
She turned to face you again, her gaze softening. “Would you like me to call the hospital? Or perhaps bring your daughter here?”
You shook your head, feeling sick to your stomach at the idea of bringing your daughter into this mess. “No hospitals,” you firmly declared.  “And I don’t want her seeing me like this.”
Natasha respected your choice and nodded understandingly. “Alright, then,” she softly answered. “You should get some rest.”
“I have work today,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself to push yourself up from the couch. “I need to get the money for Victor.”
You really couldn’t afford work today, not with Victor’s threat hanging over you. You couldn’t even begin to think about what would happen if you didn’t get his money ready. Fear gripped you as you thought about your daughter. What if he came after your daughter? You couldn’t bear the thought of Victor hurting her. 
Natasha gently placed a hand on your chest, pushing you down to the couch. “You can’t go to work looking like this,” she said, huffing. “You need to rest and heal. I’ll handle things from here.”
You looked at her, trying to argue. “But-”
“No buts,” Natasha interrupted, softening her tone. “You’re in no condition to work. I’ll figure something out for you. Just focus on getting better, alright?”
Seeing no point in arguing, you sighed and nodded, letting yourself relax back on the couch. “Alright,” you conceded, wincing as another jolt of pain shot through your body. “Thank you, Natasha.”
Honestly, you couldn’t fathom what you had done to deserve kindness from someone like Natasha, particularly considering the constant stream of misfortune that seemed to follow you like a shadow. Gratitude was a foreign emotion to you. Unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. It warmed your heart. You were grateful that some higher being brought her into your life at your lowest point.
“Don’t mention it, love,” she replied, giving you a reassuring smile. “Now, get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”
Natasha stepped out of the apartment and pulled out her phone as she closed the door. She quickly dialled Clint’s number, her mind already formulating a plan.
“Hey, Nat,” Clint’s voice came through the line. “What’s up?”
“I need your help,” Natasha said, her voice laced with urgency. “There’s a situation with Victor. He beat up my neighbour, Y/N, and things might be getting dangerous. I need you to come here with the Quinjet and get her and her daughter back to the Avengers compound. They’re not safe here anymore, and she refuses to get treatment from the hospital.”
Clint didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Hang tight, Nat.”
“Thanks, Clint,” Natasha replied, relief washing over her.
Natasha hung up and returned to your apartment. She found you lying on the couch, eyes closed but not quite asleep. You opened your eyes when you heard the door close, giving her a questioning look.
She sat down beside you, her expression serious yet gentle. “My friend, Clint, he’s coming to get you and your daughter out of here,” she began. “He’s one of my closest friends, and he’s someone I trust with my life. He’s on his way with the Quinjet. It’s a high-tech aircraft and it’ll get you to the Avengers Compound safely and quickly.”
You gave her a confused look. “Avengers Compound?”
Natasha nodded. “Mhm. I guess I haven’t really explained what I do. I’m… an Avenger. I’m in a team with other individuals with special abilities and skills who protect the world from threats. My job is to keep people safe, and right now, that means you and your daughter.”
“Are you sure it’s okay? Won’t I be in the way?”
“You won’t be in the way,” Natasha assured you. “The Compound is probably the safest place for you, and you can get the treatment you need there. You’ll be safe there, and I’ll figure out how to deal with Victor so he can’t hurt you again.”
“Alright… Thanks, again, Natasha. I really owe you twice, now.”
“It’s fine, love. Just get the rest you need.”
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You woke up, and immediately you could feel your head pounding. The sterile smell of antiseptics hit you like a brick. As your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, you realised you were in an unfamiliar place. The room was quiet, save for the soft beeping of medical equipment.
Panic started to set in until you spotted Natasha, a familiar figure slumped in a chair beside your bed. She was asleep, her head resting on her arm. The position she was in looked really uncomfortable, you could imagine the strain she’d feel on her neck once she woke up. At least she was here, and the sight of her made you relieved.
You took in your surroundings, noticing the high-tech medical equipment and the pristine cleanliness of the room. This wasn’t a regular hospital. Where were you?
You shifted slightly, wincing at the pain, but the movement was enough to wake Natasha. Her eyes fluttered open and she quickly straightened up, her gaze locking onto yours.
“You’re awake,” she said softly.
“Where am I?” you asked, your voice hoarse.
“The Avengers Compound,” Natasha replied. “We got you out of there. You’re safe now.”
You relaxed further into the bed, closing your eyes for a moment. “You’ve done so much for me, Natasha. I really don’t deserve this,” you whispered.
Your words barely scratched the surface of how you felt.
She reached out and gently held your hand. She held your hand to her lips, kissing your knuckles with gentleness. “It’s alright, love.”
You pulled the blankets to your cheeks, covering the redness seeping up your cheeks at her tender and sweet action. “What happened with Victor?”
“Let’s just say he… won’t be disturbing you ever again.” Natasha shrugged.
Before you could respond, the door to the infirmary burst open, and a small whirlwind of energy barreled into the room. Your daughter ran straight to your bedside. Behind her, Clint stood in the doorway, waving at Natasha.
“Mama!” Your daughter cried, throwing her arms around you as carefully as she could. “I was so scared!”
You hugged her back, ignoring the pain that flared in your body. “I’m okay, sweetheart,” you whispered, stroking her hair. “Everything’s going to be okay now.”
Clint stepped forward. “Not sure if you remember me, but… I’m Clint. I’m sure Natasha has spoken to you about me.” He pointed to your daughter. “Your daughter’s been worried sick about you. Couldn’t keep her away from this room forever.”
Natasha gently lifted your daughter from under her armpits and placed her beside you on the bed. She couldn’t help but soften as she watched the reunion. 
Your daughter looked up at Natasha. “Thank you for helping my Mama,” she said earnestly.
Natasha ruffled your daughter’s hair. “It was my pleasure. Your mom’s a tough cookie, just like you.”
Clint stepped closer, giving your shoulder a kind and supportive squeeze. “You’re in good hands here in the Avengers Compound. You’re part of our family now and we’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”
Your daughter nestled closer to you, her presence a comforting reminder of what mattered most. “Thank you, Natasha. Thank you, Clint. I don’t know how to repay you.”
Natasha smiled softly. “Just focus on getting better. That’s all the thanks we need.”
You laid back on the bed, one arm wrapped around your daughter and the other holding Natasha’s hand. You realised, that maybe, finally, your string of bad luck had finally run its course. You closed your eyes, peace washing over your body as you let sleep overtake your body. You and your daughter could finally start a new chapter in your lives, hoping it was one with Natasha by your side.
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maximotts · 9 days
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women stories matter
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maximotts · 9 days
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i would surrender my 10 years of good luck for that younger private hire wandanat fic 🫡 pls im begging on my kneeeeeeees
Oh goodness, don’t surrender your good luck!! I would genuinely love to finish it, I wish I wasn’t bogged by life to where I could finish anything these days ugh I miss writing 😪
If I get a moment, I shall work on it because I’ve been on a real Wanda’s Tits Brainrot™️ lately 💖
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maximotts · 9 days
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ten favourite female characters - 6/10 wanda maximoff aka the scarlet witch
"don't look back, the past is exactly where it belongs."
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maximotts · 9 days
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maximotts · 9 days
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KRISTEN STEWART Porter Magazine (May 2024)
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maximotts · 10 days
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mutual to walk around museums with (mtwamw)
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maximotts · 10 days
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I would like to nominate "You promised" "I know" as one of the most heartbreaking exchanges in the english language
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maximotts · 10 days
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Wanda whose nipples are so sensitive that one day Nat is teasing her and playing with her tits and before she realizes what's happening Wanda is cumming and gets super shy and embarrassed but Nat just finds it incredibly hot and uses it to her advantage
I’ve had a Private Hire draft of this type idea with younger girlfriends WandaNat for so long now and you’ve just reminded me that I uhm… had forgotten about it
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maximotts · 14 days
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Oops
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maximotts · 18 days
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if you’re offline or away and i message you something (like a link to a meme or a picture or w/e) honestly just assume that i’m just leaving it there for when you get back and not expecting you to answer straight away. i don’t need you to respond with “hey, sorry, i wasn’t at the computer!” or anything. i was leaving u a gift for later.
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maximotts · 18 days
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women in STEM (shenanigans, tomfoolery, escapades, and mischief)
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