Only You (Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader)

The Kingpin

I woke up to darkness.

I just opened my eyes, and the first thing I see is.. nothing. The room is pitch black. I'm sat in a chair and my hands are tied behind me. I can lightly feel the rope burns on my wrists.

My instincts immediately tell me to analyze the room. There are no windows but I can feel the freezing air conditioner in the corner of the room, by the ceiling. Right across from it, in front of me to the left, I can see a camera indicator. It must be a live feed.

I seem to be okay, other than my shirt being ripped in a few spots, and the stabbing pain in my ribs. Other than that, I seem to be fine. The conditioner is killing me, though. I feel like I'm freezing to death.

The next thing I see, the door opens. There's a bright light that comes from the other room, causing my eyes to hurt. I squint, seeing a tall figure enter the room. The man is what would be considered wide and quite tall, he has a bald head and what seems to be a suit, but I can't really tell with the terrible lightning.

''Hello, Y/N.'' the voice says. I try to struggle my hands out of the ropes, but to no avail. Then the lights turn on. My eyes start hurting by the sudden light, and I close them. My head starts spinning a little, as well. It takes me a minute to get somewhat used to the lights.

When I feel someone comfortable opening my eyes, I look up. The man really is quite tall, wide, and bald. And I wasn't mistaken when I thought he was wearing a suit. And it does look quite high quality. His face seems familiar, but I can't quite place it. He has a little fat on his face and all around, but he looks scarily strong.

''I don't usually do this, face to face isn't really my thing.'' the man says. Even his voice sounds familiar.

''But after my failed attempts to better this city, I realized it was time to change my strategies. The people of New York don't want what's better for them. They want what's worse for others.''

''Who the hell are you?''

''It's always fun when they find out. Other than the fact that I ran for mayor a few years back - even though it failed - just a little while ago I was paying for your lifestyle.''

''What the fuck are you on about?'' I ask. He's making no sense. Paying for my lifestyle?

''I was supposed to help this city, make it better for everyone.'' he starts talking ''But then that damned 'Devil of Hell's Kitchen' threw me away. He tossed me into prison like garbage!''

''Wilson Fisk.''

''In the flesh.'' He smirks, finally seeing me realize who he is.

''How did you get out? I heard your situation was pretty shitty.'' I tease him with an annoying grin on my face. The next thing I know, his front 2 knuckles collide with my left cheekbone, and my ears start ringing, as everything becomes blurry for a few seconds.

''What do you want with me?'' I ask, after spitting out some blood and trying to ignore my pulsating cheek.

''I realized that the way to win over this city.. wasn't with politics. That's what my father believed, but no. The only way you can come out on top, is to beat the guy that's above you.'' he started talking again.

''And in this case, it's the Avengers.''

It all started to make sense.

''After you left The Den, I was very disappointed. You were my best fighter. My best source of income.''

That's it!

''You're the one that runs that shithole!''

''I am, indeed. And when I found out that my best fighter has gotten a VIP ticket from the streets, to the Avengers' penthouse, I knew exactly how to get to them.''

''So all of this is just to get to them? Through me?'' I asked him.

''Finally catching on.''

''I'm not giving you shit, bitch.'' I said. He just looked at me and laughed.

''You think I need anything from you? Oh, no. I just need you to be alive. For all I care, you can be blind, deaf, paralyzed, and retarded. All I need is your mere existence.'' he chuckled.

''So how about we send a little greeting to your friends? Right after we roughen you up a bit.'' he left the room, and a second later 3 guys with masks came in.

Wanda's POV:

We've been frantically searching for Y/N the past 2 days. Yesterday, when I woke up, he was gone. I had fallen asleep on top of him, and woken up alone. I had informed the others, saying he was gone from his room, and when we asked Friday for information, we found out she had somehow been deactivated.

So for the last 42 hours, we haven't slept, at least me, Tony, Steve, and Peter haven't. Tony tried many times to put Peter to sleep, but he wouldn't give up, saying he wants to help. Eventually, Tony gave up and let him stay.

It's been 3 months since Y/N and I got together, and I'm the happiest I've ever been. He makes me feel so special, so loved, even worshipped. He does absolutely everything for me, even when I try to tell him he shouldn't. He hasn't let one Sunday pass, without bringing me breakfast in bed. He hasn't missed one night to come and comfort me, when I wake up from a nightmare, in the middle of the night.

And now he's missing.

Some of the guys believe that he just left. They think he took advantage of our help to get back on his feet and just walked away. I don't believe that. He's the sweetest soul I know, and I know for a fact he wouldn't do that. Especially after the countless times that I've seen him feel like a burden. He doesn't always talk about it, but I can see it. I know him. He wouldn't do that.

I was currently in Tony's lab, along with Steve, Peter and Tony. Natasha is here too, but she fell asleep. This is the 3rd time we're going through everything that could help us find him. Traffic cameras, security feeds, even police scanners. And still, nothing has given us a clue of where he might be.

Just when I finished combing through the security feed of the last 48 hours in the Avengers' Tower, a notification popped up on the screen. It said there was an incoming live stream.

I called Tony and the others. They all came to the desk I was sitting at, and I opened the link. It took us to a sketchy website, somewhere in the dark web. When I clicked play, my heart shattered.

There was a man, sitting in a chair, with a torn shirt. Half of the white shirt was bloodied, and you couldn't even see his eyes properly. Partially because of the hair that had fallen in front of his face, but partially because of the cuts and bruises that covered him. Not only his face, but all over his body. It was a terrifying sight. He was beat up and bloodied, seemingly tortured and slouched over, his hands behind the chair. You could see blood running down his shoulders and arms. 

That was my boy.