ellie

wanda maximoff defender | she/her | 18

[w1dowatrace]

Purple Rain

Chapter 3: Friends With Benefits | 5.7k

Summary: If someone would ask her, this was the moment she started needing you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: Unconventional relationship, reader is in a talking stage with someone else and Wanda has a girlfriend, FWB (as a joke—mostly), minor medical anxiety, suggestive humor, sexual references, financial struggles, discussions of corruption, class difference, sleep deprivation, you put your own warnings on Wanda bc I am getting suspicious about her too...

Author's Note: Gaiz google finally recovered my email, GLB chap 13? :3

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Afternoon light poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the boardroom as Wanda stood beside the screen, calmly walking Pepper through her latest pitch.

"Senator Hartley's pushing harder toward infrastructure lately," Wanda explained smoothly, clicking to the next slide. "And considering his new relationship with a lobbyist connected to major construction firms, there's a good chance the next bill swings heavily in that direction."

Pepper stayed quiet, listening carefully while Wanda continued.

"If we move our assets now, we'll be ahead before everyone else catches on."

"Well, that's honestly a very good pitch," Pepper leaned back slightly, clearly impressed. "If this pays off, I'll personally talk to Tony about making you a partner."

Wanda blinked once, genuinely caught off guard.

A partner

She only came in expecting to present her pitch. Instead, this might've been the opportunity she'd been chasing for years.

"Wow…I mean, thank you, Pepper," she said, keeping her voice calm and professional even while her chest tightened slightly with adrenaline. "I won't disappoint you."

Wanda needs someone to share this good news with.

Which was honestly pathetic.

It was already 10 PM by the time she arrived at another work dinner, walking into another restaurant filled with people who smiled too much but trusted each other too little.

That was basically her entire industry.

A bunch of rich people drinking overpriced alcohol while secretly waiting for the perfect moment to screw each other over professionally.

The hostess led her toward the private dining area where her colleagues were already gathered around the table laughing like they actually liked each other.

Fake

Every fucking single one of them.

"Maximoff," one of them greeted with a grin the second she sat down. "Heard Pepper loved your Hartley pitch."

Wanda gave a small smile. "Guess she did."

Another guy laughed while pouring himself a drink. "Careful. That usually means someone's about to get promoted."

The table went quieter after that. Not obvious enough for normal people to notice but of course Wanda noticed. Those quick glances. The sudden shift in tone. The way they started mentally recalculating where she stood compared to them.

Competition

Funny how fast admiration turned into quiet resentment in corporate spaces.

By the time the gathering finally started dying down, it was already almost one in the morning and Wanda had mentally checked out at least an hour ago.

At some point the conversations all started sounding the same—fake laughs, fake compliments, fake interest. People talking just to hear themselves speak while subtly fishing for information they could use later. One coworker spent twenty minutes pretending to congratulate another guy for closing a deal while obviously trying to figure out how much commission he made from it.

It was exhausting.

Wanda gave a few polite goodbyes before she left. The cold night air hit her the second she stepped outside.

Finally—silence.

And the city was still awake like her. Not even a slight hint of sleepiness.

1:52 AM

She still had an hour before her usual drive around the city—one of the things she did whenever she couldn't sleep. But instead of driving aimlessly tonight, she found herself heading somewhere else.

By the time Wanda parked outside the coffee shop, it was already a little past three in the morning. The place was still open, warm lights glowing through the windows while the nearly empty streets stayed quiet around it. Wanda stepped inside, immediately catching the smell of brewing coffee.

A guy behind the counter looked up first.

"Uh, hi," Wanda said awkwardly, adjusting the suit jacket hanging over her arm. "Is Y/N here?"

The man immediately narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. "Why?" he asked slowly. "Who are you?"

Wanda blinked at his tone.

"I'm her friend."

The guy stared at her for a long second.

"You? Her friend?" he repeated like the idea itself sounded ridiculous. The man looked at her up and down—long sleeves, slacks, expensive pointed boots, her suit hanging neatly over her arm, and her phone with three burner cameras flexing in her hand.

"Why?" Wanda asked defensively. "I can't be friends with her?"

Before the guy who turned out to be your manager could answer, another voice suddenly cut in.

"Wait—"

A woman near one of the tables was staring at her with immediate recognition while another guy beside her practically looked ready to combust from panic.

"You're Wanda, right?" the woman asked carefully.

Wanda pointed slightly. "And you're Kate? Do you know where Y/N is?"

Then somehow, Wanda found herself parking outside a public clinic at nearly four in the morning. And she had barely turned the engine off when she saw you.

You were inside the gate of the clinic carrying a baby in your arms.

Wanda froze immediately. Her brain short-circuited so hard she genuinely considered driving away before you noticed her.

Unfortunately, you already had.

Your eyes landed on her car instantly before your face lit up with disbelief. You will never forget that 2025 Mazda 3. A second later, you walked straight toward her car with the baby balanced carefully against your chest. Then you knocked dramatically on her window so hard like a street beggar asking for spare change before immediately laughing at yourself.

Wanda stared at you for half a second before finally getting out of the car.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, still laughing a little like you genuinely couldn't believe she existed outside expensive bars and corporate buildings.

Wanda opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Instead, her eyes dropped toward the baby sleeping quietly in your arms.

"Is that your baby?"

You looked down at the sleeping child before immediately laughing.

"What? No."

You adjusted the blanket around the baby more securely before glancing toward the clinic behind you.

"Her mom is in the clinic. She's sick," Your expression softened slightly as you looked down at the baby again. "I just felt bad. She's been awake the whole time too, so I told her I'll take care of her while she naps."

Wanda just stared at you quietly for a second before slowly nodding once.

"What about you?" she asked after a moment. "Why are you here at three in the morning? Why is…why are there people in here at this hour?"

You immediately pointed toward the small scratch injected-like wound near your cheekbone.

"Oh, Manager scratched me. I was feeding them earlier. There were new cats." You sighed dramatically. "And I think Manager got jealous because I was giving the new ones more attention."

Her fingers reached your jaw gently which surprised you, she turns your head slightly so she could inspect the scratch properly.

"It might look small," she said quietly, her thumb brushing lightly near the mark, "but scratches and bites near the head and neck are dangerous. The virus reaches the brain faster from there." She finally let go and glanced toward the clinic entrance. "But…don't government clinics open at eight in the morning?"

You looked at her for a second before motioning with your head for her to follow you inside.

The moment Wanda stepped through the gate, her expression shifted.

The clinic was already crowded despite the hour. Plastic chairs lined the walls, nearly all occupied by exhausted people waiting silently under harsh fluorescent lights.

An old man sat slumped in a wheelchair near the wall, one foot heavily wrapped in gauze while his wife fanned him gently with a folder. A mother slept sitting upright with a baby against her chest while a little kid stretched across connected chairs beside her using folded jackets as blankets. Near the registration area, a construction worker with dried cement still on his clothes held an ice pack against his swollen wrist while staring blankly at the floor. A teenager coughed weakly into a towel beside his grandmother.

Nobody looked comfortable.

Nobody looked rested.

Just tired people waiting because they couldn't afford not to.

You adjusted the sleeping baby carefully before speaking again, your voice softer this time but Wanda could notice how tired you are.

"You have to come early if you want a chance to get checked fast," you explained casually. Then you smiled a little, though there was something quietly sad underneath it. "If you come at eight, you're already late." You glanced around the waiting area. "Some people stay here the whole day just waiting for their number to get called. And if the doctors run out of slots…" you shrugged lightly. "You just come back tomorrow and hope you still don't die before then."

Wanda stayed quiet while taking everything in. And somehow, underneath all that she's seeing, nobody was even complaining anymore. Like this was normal and suffering quietly had simply become part of the process.

She felt everything at once—pity, irritation, guilt she couldn't fully explain. Not because clinics like this shocked her—she knew places like this existed. Of course she did. She just never actually stood inside one long enough to feel it.

You were watching her carefully while she absorbed everything around her, almost like you were waiting to see what kind of person she'd become after seeing this side of the city.

Then after a moment, you looked away.

"What about you?" you asked quietly, adjusting the sleeping baby in your arms. "What are you even doing here?"

The redhead hesitated for a moment, then quietly said, "Uhm…I think I will become a partner now. Not just a partner, but a part owner of the company." She paused right after, almost like she regretted saying it here, in a place like this, at this hour. It felt a bit insensitive, like she was bringing up success while surrounded by people who are literally struggling.

You laughed lightly at that. "Why are you telling me this?" you asked. "Where's your girlfriend?"

"She's out of the country."

You clicked your tongue immediately. The sound was full of judgment. "Just admit it. You're not faithful."

That earned a small snort from her. But she didn't argue or defend herself. She didn't deny it either.

"Be like me."

That caught her attention.

"Oh?"

You nodded seriously. "I'm already faithful to her, even though we're only in the talking stage."

"You have a girlfriend?" her eyebrow slowly rose.

"Not yet, but hopefully."

There was something oddly dreamy about the way you said it, Wanda noticed. But for once, she didn't tease you about it. She just lets you keep that smile to yourself.

Then you tilted your head at her. "You really have no friends, do you?"

That made her look down for a moment, like she didn't know what to do with the question. Then her eyes met yours again, and there was something softer there—something almost embarrassed, almost exposed. This is a woman who had everything—money, power, looks. And yet, here she was, completely alone. It's kind of heartbreaking and pathetic.

"Okay," you said after a beat, exhaling. "We're friends now. But my rate will be higher—forty to fifty dollars per hour. And I will be strict on time too. If you go over three hours, there's an extra charge." You smirked at her slightly, watching her listen like she was actually considering it. "And no touching below the neck."

"Okay, deal." Her agreement came out fast—way faster than you expected.

You blinked at her. "Wait, what?"

She just nodded once like it was already settled. "Your terms are fine."

"You gotta be kidding me," you muttered under your breath, blinking at her. You were just joking, but this woman didn't even flinch. She said it so casually, like agreeing to your ridiculous pricing was just another line item in her day.

Wanda didn't hesitate for long.

"What about this?" she said suddenly. She glanced around the clinic before pointing toward a young kid in the corner who had been coughing nonstop for what felt like forever. "Give up your line here. Let the kid take it instead."

You followed her finger, then frowned slightly. The baby in your arms is still deeply asleep. You went straight here after work instead of going home to sleep, you were about to curse the shit out of her when she landed her offer.

"I'll pay for your vaccine at a private clinic. You'll get it faster, no need to wait here." She glanced at you briefly, unfazed. "And your paid three hours with me doesn't count," she added smoothly. "Let's just say this is your…HMO coverage."

You stared at her. "You're ridiculous."

"It makes sense," she said without looking up. "You get your vaccine—your HMO. You don't wait here until mister sun comes, and the kid gets your slot." She finally glanced at you again. "Everyone wins."

You bite your lip, glancing between her and the baby sleeping in your arms. You'd be stupid to decline that kind of offer.

"Fine," you said at last. "But I need to bring this baby back first."

Wanda tilted her head slightly, then said in a low, joking tone, "Don't. Let's keep her."

You shot Wanda a look, then walked back to the baby's mom without saying anything else. You made sure the baby was properly handed over, said a quick thanks, then headed straight out of the clinic.

Wanda was already waiting by her car when you came back.

You checked your phone before getting into the car. It was almost 5 AM, the sky started to lighten a bit but the city was still mostly asleep.

Wanda started driving and after a bit, you finally spoke. "How did you even know I was there?"

"I asked your coworker. Kate, right?" she said, eyes on the road.

You just hummed. "Hm."

Silence followed after that. A few minutes later, Wanda noticed you weren't endlessly talking—very surprising. She glanced over, she thought you were simply staring out the window or you just at one point, be silent. Her eyes lingered for a moment. You really had fallen asleep.

Your head rested awkwardly against the glass, arms loosely folded, breathing slow and even. Whatever energy had been keeping you upright earlier had clearly run out.

The next thing you knew, consciousness returned in fragments. Your eyes slowly opened. For several long seconds, your brain struggled to piece everything together through the lingering fog of sleep.

Where—

Oh yes, Wanda's car.

A groggy frown crossed your face as you pushed yourself upright, trying to gather your bearings. Your neck protested immediately, stiff from sleeping in an awkward position.

"Hey." Wanda's voice cut through your thoughts.

You turned toward her. The best response you could manage was a sleepy, half-conscious hum.

"Mmh."

Your arms stretched overhead instinctively. Every muscle in your body seemed determined to announce its existence all at once. Several joints cracked loudly as you twisted in your seat.

You rubbed your face. "How long am I asleep?"

"Almost two hours."

"What about you?"

"What about me?" she asked, though the answer seemed obvious.

"You really didn't sleep?"

"No." Wanda's fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel. "I really can't."

You blinked.

You studied her for a moment. The exhaustion from earlier was impossible to ignore now. Not just today. Thinking back on everything she'd told you, it sounded like she carried that exhaustion around constantly. You shifted slightly in your seat.

"Do you see anyone?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Anyone?"

"A doctor. A psychiatrist. Therapist. Something."

For a moment you expected her to dodge the question or brush it off. Instead, Wanda surprised you.

"Yes."

"Really?" your eyebrows lifted.

She nodded. "I've seen psychiatrists before." The answer came easily without embarrassment or defensiveness.

"As part of treatment?"

"Partly. But right now I am just on meds."

You nodded slowly. That made sense. Honestly, it was reassuring. A lot of people ignored things until they became impossible to ignore. At least she wasn't doing that.

You looked at her for another moment.

"I have a goal now."

"A goal?" Wanda immediately looked suspicious.

"Yep."

She sighed as she started the engine of her car. "I don't like the sound of that."

You pointed at her dramatically. "My goal is to make you sleep."

Wanda stared then barked out a short laugh. "Well, that's terrifying."

"It shouldn't be."

"It absolutely should be." She shook her head. "You saying you have a plan to make me unconscious is not comforting."

"Sleep, Wanda." You correct while rolling your eyes.

"How exactly are you planning to accomplish it?" She gestured vaguely with one hand.

You sat back confidently. "I'll have my ways."

Wanda laughed. "That is somehow even more alarming."

You waved her off. Then a thought crossed your mind. "Actually."

Wanda immediately groaned at that. But you just ignored her.

"You know they say sex helps people sleep."

In Wanda's mind she had already crashed her car with what you just said.

You continued anyway. "It is science. It releases endorphins, oxytocin. Apparently people get sleepy afterward because it helps reduce stress and relaxes the body which makes people fall asleep faster."

Wanda slowly turned her head toward you.

Not fully because she's still driving but enough to give you a look. A look that clearly said, Where exactly are you going with this?

Meanwhile, you appeared completely unaware of the effect your statement had. Or maybe you just didn't care.

"So, you should have sex."

She glanced over at you again before looking back at the road. The thing that made it difficult not to laugh was how genuinely invested you seemed in the explanation. You weren't being flirtatious or trying to be suggestive. You were talking the same way someone might explain the benefits of drinking tea before bed—completely earnest.

She shook her head slowly, one hand resting on the steering wheel while the city lights slid across the windshield in long streaks of gold and white. Wanda bit the inside of her cheek despite her obvious attempts to remain composed.

Then, without warning, she leaned toward to face you. One eyebrow lifted. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes.

"So, you wanna test that theory?"

Everything inside your brain immediately stopped working. You don't know if it was because her face was inches closer to yours or for what she just said. For one full second, you panicked. Your eyes widened before your finger flicked directly with the center of her forehead.

"Aw!"

Wanda immediately recoiled. One hand abandoned the steering wheel for half a second to clutch her forehead while she stared at you in disbelief.

"What the hell?!"

"Fuck you!" You pointed at her with genuine outrage. "No, seriously. Fuck you. You have a girlfriend and the first person your brain comes up to that idea is me? Pervert. You really aren't faithful!"

The accusation hung in the air for a few seconds before Wanda finally let out a laugh of pure disbelief. She wasn't offended, but she genuinely couldn't believe she was being scolded over what had been, in her mind, a harmless joke. Unfortunately for her, you were completely committed to this now. The more she laughed, the more serious you became. You sat straighter in your seat and folded your arms across your chest, looking every bit like a disappointed parent preparing to lecture a troublesome child.

"I was joking." Wanda groaned dramatically, still rubbing her forehead with exaggerated misery as though you'd inflicted a life-changing injury.

"You know," you said casually, "I actually have a better way to make you sleep."

"What is it now?" She groans.

"Punch. One good punch."

She barked out a laugh. "You can't be serious."

"Wanna test that theory?"

"Want me to crash this car?"

"Go. I would even say thank you."

The answer came so quickly that Wanda actually glanced over at you. You were completely serious. Or at least serious enough to make it concerning.

Your head rested against the seat, your expression carrying the exhausted look of someone who had already accepted too many responsibilities for one day. Between classes, work, and whatever sleep deprivation had convinced you to nap for two hours in a stranger's car, the threat apparently wasn't as effective as Wanda had hoped.

In fact, you looked mildly tempted.

"I'd finally get some rest," you added with a small shrug.

Wanda stared at you for a moment before letting out a disbelieving laugh.

"That is not a normal response."

You merely looked out the window.

"At least I wouldn't have to go to work."

The fact that you said it so casually somehow made it funnier and sadder at the same time.

The car pulled into the parking lot of a private animal bite and vaccination center. Five minutes later, you found yourself sitting inside a small consultation room while Wanda occupied the chair beside you. The room smelled faintly of disinfectant. A metal examination tray sat against one wall. Medical posters about animal bites, rabies prevention, and wound care decorated the room.

You were currently trying very hard not to look like someone who's out of place again because even as a clinic, this place looks luxurious.

The door opened and a doctor stepped inside carrying a clipboard. After exchanging brief greetings and questions towards you, the doctor took a seat across from you and adjusted their glasses.

"Since the scratch is on the face," they explained, "we'll need to administer ERIG around the area where you were scratched, okay?"

For a moment, you simply stared at the man. The words registered individually.

Face

Inject

Then your brain finally puts the sentence together.

He's going to inject your face.

Your eyes widened immediately. "Wait." You sat up straighter. Your heart rate seemed to double in less than three seconds. You shifted back in your chair instinctively, as though distance alone could somehow solve the problem.

"Do I need to call for an assistant nurse?"

The question was delivered with complete seriousness. You weren't causing trouble but he could very clearly see your panic.

You immediately shook your head, then nodded. You weren't even sure yourself.

Meanwhile, Wanda had been watching the entire breakdown unfold. At first there was amusement. She wanted to laugh at you but she knows you would really do that plan of yours to make her sleep with a punch. A small smirk tugged briefly at her lips before she pushed herself up from her seat.

"I got her, doc. Don't worry," she said as she stood beside you.

The moment the doctor prepared the syringe, every ounce of confidence you had been pretending to possess throughout the appointment vanished completely. One second you were sitting normally in the examination chair. The next, you were staring at the needle with the expression of someone who had just received the worst news of their life.

"Alright," he said. "Just stay still for me."

Stay still. As if that were a reasonable request.

Your survival instincts completely abandoned logic. Sitting in the examination chair, you immediately reached for the closest source of emotional support available. Unfortunately for Wanda, that source happened to be her. You immediately wrapped your arms around her, burying your face on her stomach. Before anyone could comment on it, you were fully hugging her while she stood beside your chair.

The doctor chuckled before gently positioning your head giving you a last warning.

"Okay. Hold still."

You immediately squeezed your eyes shut. Then you felt the first injection. Instantly, every muscle in your body locks. Your grip around Wanda tightened and she started caressing your head which surprisingly helped you.

The sensation wasn't unbearable. It wasn't even particularly painful. But the knowledge that a needle was involved somehow made everything ten times worse!

"Okay, it's done."

Only then did you cautiously lift your head. Your expression looked as though you'd just survived a major surgical procedure rather than a few injections around a scratch.

"Thank, God." You sighed.

The doctor shook his head with an amused smile while finishing his notes. "You know," he said casually, "you're terrified of a small needle." Then he added, in a tone that suggested he was entertaining himself more than anyone else, "But you're not afraid of the big needle."

Wanda immediately turned away and a laugh escaped her. She was trying very hard to suppress it.

Meanwhile, you simply stared at the doctor.

"What big needle?"

The doctor only smiled and Wanda was now covering her mouth. Neither of them answered. Which somehow made the situation even more confusing.

"What?" You looked between them.

The doctor simply wished you well and continued writing prescriptions. While Wanda refused to make eye contact with you. The entire exchange made absolutely no sense.

Several minutes later, the two of you were outside. The evening air felt nice after being stuck inside the clinic. You walked beside Wanda toward the parking lot while she still looked suspiciously amused about something.

Eventually, your curiosity won.

"What was that about?"

"Hm?" Wanda glanced back.

"What did he mean by big injection?" You frowned.

The moment the question left your mouth, Wanda stopped walking. For a second she simply stared at you and she freaking laughed again. Not a polite laugh. Not a small laugh. A full laugh that irritated you.

You waited—completely serious. "What?"

Wanda looked at you, still laughing. "You seriously don't know?"

"No."

Another laugh. Then she finally shook her head.

"A cock."

You blinked. "What?"

"A penis."

Your brain took a moment to catch up. Your face immediately twisted in disbelief.

The realization hit you all at once.

For several seconds, you simply stood there in the parking lot staring at Wanda as your brain replayed the conversation inside the clinic from beginning to end. The fact that you had stood there asking, "What big injection?" with complete sincerity while apparently being the only person in the room who didn't understand the joke.

"Is that even ethical?!"

The outrage in your voice only made Wanda laugh harder.

"No, seriously!" you continued, genuinely horrified now that everything finally made sense. "He said that to a patient."

At this point Wanda wasn't even pretending to hold herself together anymore. The image of your confused expression inside the clinic combined with your current outrage was simply too much.

Meanwhile, the more you thought about it, the more offended you became.

The look Wanda gave you suggested she couldn't decide whether you were being dramatic on purpose or whether this was simply how your brain naturally functioned.

"You're ridiculous."

"No. He is." You pointed toward the building again. "That man has a medical license."

"I know."

"He should know better."

"I think he was joking."

"That's what concerns me."

Wanda laughed so hard she actually had to lean against the side of her car for support. Eventually she managed to compose herself enough to unlock the car.

"Okay."

You looked over suspiciously. "Okay what?"

Wanda opened the driver's side door before glancing back at you. "Now, now." She made a small calming gesture with one hand. "Let's calm down."

You immediately frowned. "I am calm."

"Sure, darling." Wanda shook her head, smiling despite herself. "Get in the car."

You continued staring at her. "I still think that was unprofessional."

"Get in."

"I want that on record."

"Get in."

The smile never left her face. With one final grumble, you finally climbed into the passenger seat.

Wanda had parked the car again in a quiet area overlooking a stretch of city streets. You sat sideways in your seat, one arm resting against the door while Wanda stared through the windshield, absentmindedly tapping her fingers against the steering wheel.

A few moments later, she reached into her purse and pulled out a small stack of bills.

"We've been together for almost four hours. Fifty times four..." Wanda calculated. "Two hundred."

She held the money out.

You shook your head and laughed, but took the money anyway because refusing it felt pointless at this stage. The second it touched your hand, however, you peeled off some bucks and handed it back.

Wanda looked down. Forty dollars. Then back at you.

"What are you doing?"

"I was joking when I said my rates went up." You pushed the bills toward her.

"So the original package remains unchanged."

"Yeah."

Wanda shrugged and accepted the money back. "You have plans after this?" She glanced over.

"Yeah." You stretched slightly before answering. "Classes later and then I have a night shift at work.

That earned a small look from her.

"Again?"

"Unfortunately."

"You don't stop, do you?"

A laugh escaped you. Not a particularly cheerful one. A laugh someone develops after repeating the same routine so many times that it stops feeling unusual.

"In this economy?" you said, shaking your head. "I can't."

You leaned back further into the seat, one hand absentmindedly rubbing your jaw.

"I have a lot of children to feed, you know."

Wanda raised an eyebrow.

"The children of politicians."

That made her snort. But you weren't finished.

"Every time I work, every time I pay taxes, every time I buy something, every time I pay a fee for a document, a permit, a license, a registration, somewhere out there a politician's third child gets another thousand dollar Gucci bag."

Wanda laughed.

You pointed accusingly at the windshield as though the system of corruption itself was standing outside.

"I'm basically sponsoring private school tuition at this point." Your expression remained serious for exactly one second before cracking into a grin. "I don't even know their names and somehow I'm helping fund their future."

The amusement in your voice couldn't quite hide the truth underneath. Because as ridiculous as the joke was, it came from a very real frustration. The frustration of watching prices rise faster than wages. Of seeing people work harder and harder while somehow falling behind anyway. And hearing corruption scandals so often that they barely felt surprising anymore.

You started counting on your fingers.

"Food wants money."

Another finger.

"Transportation wants money."

Another.

"School wants money."

Another.

"Corruption wants money."

Another.

"Corruption isn't a bill." Wanda counters.

"It feels like one." You looked at her with complete sincerity, the joke still present in your voice but softer now. Less playful. More tired. "I never subscribed to it, but somehow the charges keep showing up. The second people elected those politicians, I started paying the price too."

For a few seconds, Wanda expected herself to laugh. The setup sounded like another joke but the laugh never came.

For the first time since you'd started joking, she didn't have a comeback.

Because you were right. About the rampant corruption. About how expensive it had become just to exist. About how hard people worked only to find themselves running in place or how some people had no choice but to keep moving because stopping simply wasn't an option.

The uncomfortable truth was that Wanda wouldn't really know what that felt like. She had worked hard in her life. Nobody could take that away from her. She had spent years building her career, surviving impossible hours, competing against people who wanted the same opportunities she did.

But even then—there had always been a safety net. A family with money, connections, resources.

The knowledge that if everything somehow collapsed tomorrow, she wouldn't end up wondering how to pay rent next month. She wouldn't have to choose between groceries and transportation. Or worry about having to work a night shift after classes just to stay afloat.

And because of that, she found herself unusually quiet.

You, meanwhile, seemed completely unaware of the effect your words had. You were still looking out the window, smiling faintly as though you'd just told a series of dumb jokes and nothing more.

The fact that you could still laugh about it somehow made it worse.

For a few moments, the car remained quiet. The money still sat in your hand, you looked down at it for a second before letting out a small breath.

"Thank you." You lifted the money slightly. "For this." The words came quietly. "It's a huge help." You leaned back against the seat and looked down at the bills again, absently straightening the edges with your thumb.

Wanda noticed how you sounded really tired.

"You're welcome." The words came softer than usual. "Thank you too for being my friend..."

You opened your mouth to say you're welcome but Wanda continued.

"...friends with benefits."

"Oh, fuck you." Your curse came automatically then a laugh followed immediately afterward.

The conversation had somehow drifted into comfortable silence again. Eventually, Wanda glanced toward you as you reached for the door handle.

"Wait."

You paused. "What?"

She pulled her phone out from her pocket. "Give me your number."

"Oh." You blinked then immediately grinned.

"Don't make it weird." Wanda rolled her eyes at the expression.

"I'm not making it weird."

"You are already making it weird."

You laughed but rattled off your number anyway.

A few seconds later she finished entering the last digit then she looked up. "What name should I put?"

The question should have had a normal answer. A reasonable answer. Your actual name, for example.

Instead, you immediately pointed at yourself.

"FWB"

Wanda stared. The silence lasted exactly two seconds before she barked out a laugh. The sound escaped before she could stop it.

"And that stands for what?" She giggles.

"Fabulously Wicked Baddie." You winked before reaching for the door handle.

A thoughtful hum escaped her.

"I think..." she began, a smirk slowly appearing on her face, "it's Frustratingly Wonderful Brat."

"Wrong, Frustratingly Wonderful Being." You shrugged. Your hand remained on the car door. "Just put whatever you want me to be." The air outside immediately greeted you as you stepped out of the car. "I'll head now. Thanks again."

And as you began walking away, you lifted the money one last time in a farewell wave before disappearing.

Wanda remained sitting behind the wheel for a few moments longer. Her attention remained fixed on her phone. Specifically, on the blank contact name waiting to be filled in.

She just ended up just typing your name.

But as she saved the contact and set her phone aside, she couldn't help hearing your voice one last time.

"Just put whatever you want me to be."

For some reason, that felt less like a joke and more like the beginning of a problem.

Purple Rain: Masterlist

[ilovemarvel97]

PILLOWTALK

My Life With You Series

Elizabeth Olsen x G!P Singer Reader

Summary: Y/N release a new song that goes viral immediately.

Word Count: 9,398

Request: Yes

Warning: Fluff, Little Smut, (18+), Reader has a P.

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

---

---

The internet didn’t explode right away.

It cracked first.

Like a glass under pressure—silent, subtle fractures spreading before anyone realized it was about to shatter.

Y/N’s name had already been trending that morning. That wasn’t unusual anymore. Ever since her debut, everything she touched turned into noise—charts, headlines, speculation. But this… this was different.

Because at midnight, without warning, she dropped a new single.

“Pillowtalk.”

No teaser.

No countdown.

No explanation.

Just a black cover, her name, and the track.

---

Lizzie’s POV

Elizabeth woke up to the sound of her phone vibrating relentlessly against the nightstand. She groaned, burying her face deeper into the pillow—Y/N’s pillow, she noted absently, still faintly smelling like her—before blindly reaching for the phone.

“...what,” she mumbled, eyes barely open.

Notifications flooded her screen.

Mary-Kate: DID YOU HEAR IT??

Ashley: Lizzie. Call me. Now.

Trent: Uh… so is this about you or—

Unknown Number: “Pillowtalk?? Girl???”

Lizzie frowned.

“…what did she do now…”

She tapped one of the links. A music app opened, and the song started.

---

Climb on board…

We’ll go slow and high tempo…

Lizzie froze.

Her eyes snapped open.

“…oh no.”

---

Y/N’s POV

Across the city, Y/N was very much awake—pacing, phone in hand. Regret? No. Nerves? Definitely. She stared at the ceiling of her apartment, jaw tight as notifications rolled in faster than she could process. Streams skyrocketing. Fans losing their minds. Speculation threads already forming.

And then—

Lizzie ❤️ calling…

Y/N stopped pacing immediately. “…shit.” She answered.

“Hey—”

“Did you write a sex song about me?”

Straight to it.

Y/N blinked. “…good morning to you too?”

“Y/N.”

There it was—that tone. The one that made her both want to laugh and immediately behave. She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Okay, first of all—”

“—it’s very detailed,” Lizzie cut in.

“I—”

“Second of all, my entire family just woke me up.”

Y/N winced. “…okay, that part I’m sorry about.”

“Y/N.”

“…yes?”

A pause. Then, softer—dangerously softer: “…is it about me?”

Y/N leaned back against the wall, staring at nothing. There it was. The real question. Not teasing. Not playful. Something vulnerable underneath it. And suddenly, all the confidence she had at midnight? Gone.

“…you tell me,” she said quietly.

Lizzie huffed on the other end. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m serious,” Y/N replied, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “You’ve been in my life long enough. You know how I write.”

Lizzie didn’t answer right away—because she did know. Y/N didn’t just write songs. She documented feelings. Moments. People. And this song—the intimacy, the tension, the want threaded through every line—

Her cheeks flushed. She pressed her lips together, pacing once before dragging a hand through her hair. “…you’re unbelievable,” Lizzie muttered, but there was no real bite to it now—just warmth, familiarity… recognition.

On the other end, Y/N smiled softly. Not nervous this time. Just… fond.

“You know,” Y/N said, voice quieter, steadier, “it’s about this girl I’ve been dating for over six months.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes immediately, even as her heart picked up. “Oh really? Tell me more,” she said dryly.

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh. “She’s kind of a menace. Steals my clothes. Judges my cooking. Wakes up grumpy if I’m not there—”

“I do not—”

“—and I’ve been in love with her for a while now.”

That stopped her.

Not because it was new—it wasn’t. Y/N had said it before, softly, late at night, half-asleep, pressed into her skin like a secret meant only for her. But this—hearing it now, wrapped inside a song the whole world was dissecting… it hit differently.

“…you’re really leaning into this, huh,” Lizzie murmured, quieter now.

Y/N smiled. “I mean, it’s not exactly breaking news.”

Lizzie let out a small breath, shoulders relaxing despite herself. “No,” she admitted. “…it’s not.”

A pause settled between them—comfortable, lived-in. Then Lizzie spoke again, quieter now. “…come over tonight.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There was a soft shift on the other end, like Y/N had straightened, like something in her had warmed at the invitation. “I’ll be there.”

Lizzie nodded to herself, even though she knew Y/N couldn’t see it. “…good.”

A beat. Then, softer—almost shy, but not quite: “And for the record…”

Y/N hummed. “Yeah?”

Lizzie’s lips curved, her heart steady now. “I really like the song.”

Y/N’s smile grew, slow and certain. “Good,” she said. “Because I wrote it thinking about you.”

Lizzie shook her head, huffing under her breath—but she was smiling. Of course she was. Because this wasn’t the beginning. It wasn’t some sudden confession. It was just them—six months in, already in love, and now, apparently… with a hit song to prove it.

---

Lizzie’s POV

The apartment felt quieter after the call ended. Not empty—never empty—but… full in a different way, like the air itself had shifted. I stared at my phone for a few seconds longer than necessary, Y/N’s contact still open, her last words lingering in my ears. Because I wrote it thinking about you.

God.

I dropped the phone onto the bed beside me and fell back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. “…she’s insane,” I whispered, but my lips were already curving. Because this wasn’t new.

That was the thing. Anyone else listening to Pillowtalk would think it was some bold confession, some reckless, romantic reveal—but they didn’t hear her the way I did.

They didn’t know how she sounded at 2 a.m., voice low and soft, tangled up in me as she murmured I love you like it was the easiest thing in the world. They didn’t know how she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.

They didn’t know the way she felt.

I did.

And somehow… that made the song feel even more intimate—not because it was the first time, but because it wasn’t. Because it was ours—just… louder now.

I turned my head, glancing at the nightstand—at her hoodie half hanging off the edge, at the faint imprint of where she’d slept last time she stayed over. My chest tightened, soft and warm. “…six months,” I murmured. It hadn’t felt like six months. It felt like something that had just… settled into place, like she had always been there and I just hadn’t noticed until suddenly I couldn’t imagine anything without her in it.

And now the entire world was trying to piece her together through a three-minute song.

I huffed, sitting up again and reaching for my phone. Big mistake. Notifications exploded across the screen the second it lit up, but curiosity got the better of me anyway. I tapped into Y/N’s page—and immediately, chaos. Comments flooding in faster than I could even read them.

“WHO IS THIS ABOUT???”

“SHE’S IN LOVE I CAN HEAR IT 😭”

“I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE—PICK ME Y/N”

“WHOEVER SHE’S DATING IS LIVING MY DREAM”

“GIRL WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER???”

I snorted despite myself, scrolling—thread after thread, fans dissecting every lyric like it was a crime scene. Some were sweet, some unhinged, most were… thirsty. 

My eyes paused on one: 

“I wish I was the one she’s singing about.” Another: “The way she sings?? I’d fold instantly.”

I shook my head, lips pressing together to hide the smile creeping in. “…you have no idea,” I murmured.

But then—another comment.

“Have you SEEN her Calvin Klein shoot?? Whoever she’s with is GOD’S FAVORITE.”

I froze. Oh. That. That week.

I groaned, dropping my head back dramatically. “…don’t remind me.” I could still picture it perfectly—those photos, the way she looked at the camera, the comments that followed, the absolute feral energy her fans had unleashed. 

I had been so annoyed—not at her, never at her—but at… everything else. At the fact that everyone got to look. At the fact that people talked about her like she wasn’t—

Mine.

I rolled onto my side, staring at my phone again. And yet… now? Now I was just smiling. Softly. Because the comments kept coming—

“WHO IS SHE AND HOW DID SHE PULL Y/N???”

“SHE MUST BE INSANE LEVELS OF LUCKY.”

“I’D NEVER SHUT UP IF Y/N WROTE THIS ABOUT ME.”

My chest warmed, a quiet, almost smug kind of warmth. “…yeah,” I whispered. Because they didn’t know. They didn’t know what it felt like to have Y/N’s hands on you, steady and sure. To hear her voice drop just for you. To be the one she *looked at* when the world wasn’t watching. They didn’t know how soft she could be—how gentle, how *hers* she was when it was just the two of us.

I locked my phone, bringing it down to rest against my chest. A small smile stayed on my lips. Because for all the noise—for all the speculation, for all the people wishing, hoping, imagining—

Y/N was mine.

Only mine.

And tonight?

I’d have her right here again. Not through a song, not through a screen—just…

Mine.

My phone buzzed again against my chest.

I groaned. “Please don’t be—”

Ashley.

Of course.

I unlocked it slowly this time, bracing myself.

Ashley:

So… we’re all just going to ignore the fact your girlfriend dropped the horniest love song of the year?

I snorted. Before I could even type back—another notification.

Mary-Kate:

Be serious for one second. Is this the same girl you’ve been secretly smiling at your phone about for six months?

“…I hate both of you,” I muttered under my breath, already typing.

Lizzie:

You’re both dramatic.

Three dots appeared instantly. Then—

Ashley:

That’s not a no.

Mary-Kate:

That’s VERY much not a no.

I pressed my lips together, fighting the smile that was trying to give me away—even though they couldn’t see me.

Lizzie:

You already know I’m dating her.

Ashley:

Dating is one thing.

Being the muse of THAT song is another.

I rolled my eyes, flopping back against the pillows again. God, they were relentless.

Mary-Kate:

Okay, jokes aside—

That made me pause.

Because Mary-Kate only said that when she actually meant something.

Another message came through.

Mary-Kate:

We need to meet her.

My fingers stilled over the screen.

Ashley:

Yeah. Before this whole thing goes public and suddenly she’s everywhere with you.

A small knot formed in my chest—not bad, just… real. Because they weren’t wrong. This—whatever this was turning into—It wasn’t going to stay quiet forever.

I sat up again, pulling my knees in slightly as I read the next message.

Mary-Kate:

If she’s important to you, Lizzie… we want to know her.

Ashley:

Also I need to see if she’s actually worthy of inspiring THAT song.

I huffed out a laugh at that, shaking my head.

“…you two are unbelievable.”

But my heart had softened. Because underneath the teasing—they cared about me. About who I was letting into my life.

And Y/N…

My gaze drifted briefly to the hoodie still draped over the chair. To the quiet presence of her that lingered everywhere.

“…she is,” I murmured.

More to myself than anything.

Then I looked back at my phone and typed.

Lizzie:

You’ll meet her.

A pause. Then I added—

Lizzie:

Soon.

The replies came instantly.

Ashley:

Oh my god it’s serious serious.

Mary-Kate:

Of course it is Ash! They’ve been dating for six months!

I laughed, shaking my head as I locked my phone again.

“Idiots,” I said fondly.

But the word soon lingered in my mind. Because tonight—

Tonight wasn’t about family. Or the public, or any of that. It was just us.

But after that?

After the song…

After everything it stirred up—things were changing.

And maybe—Just maybe—I was ready for them to.

---

At Night

Lizzie’s POV

By the time I got home, my head was full.

Meetings always did that—too many voices, too many opinions, too many versions of my future being laid out in neat little bullet points like it was something that could actually be controlled.

My PA had gone over scripts, scheduling conflicts, press timelines… the usual. I said yes to some things. Maybe to others. No to a few I already knew I didn’t want. But through all of it—there was this quiet pull in the back of my mind.

7 p.m.

I slipped my shoes off by the door, exhaling as the silence of my apartment wrapped around me again.

Finally.

Just me.

Well…

Me—and her, in all the little ways she seemed to exist here even when she wasn’t.

My phone buzzed in my hand. Right on cue.

Y/N ❤️:

Still alive? Or did your meetings kill you?

I smiled instantly, dropping my bag onto the chair.

Lizzie:

Barely. I think I signed my soul away to at least two projects.

The reply came fast.

Y/N ❤️:

Damn. Should I be jealous?

I scoffed, walking toward the kitchen.

Lizzie:

You wish.

Three dots.

Y/N ❤️:

I mean… I am the one getting you tonight, so I think I’m winning.

My cheeks warmed.

God.

I leaned against the counter, biting back a smile.

Lizzie:

Don’t get cocky.

Y/N ❤️:

Too late.

Another message followed right after.

Y/N ❤️:

I’ll be there around 7. Still at the studio right now.

I glanced at the time. Just past five. Two hours.

My chest did that annoying little thing again—tightening, but in a way that felt more like anticipation than anything else.

Lizzie:

Okay.

I hesitated. Then—

Lizzie:

Drive safe.

A pause. Longer this time.

Then—

Y/N ❤️:

I can’t wait to see you.

And with that I smiling stupidly. I stared at that for a second longer than necessary before locking my phone.

“…okay,” I murmured to myself.

Two hours. I pushed off the counter, looking around my apartment again.

Still clean.

Still… very obviously lived-in by two people, if anyone looked close enough.

I walked into the bedroom, opening my closet without really thinking about it.

My hand hovered over a few options.

Something casual?

Something comfortable?

Something that would absolutely get a reaction out of her?

I huffed a quiet laugh.

“…why am I like this?”

Because it mattered. Because she mattered.

I pulled out one of her shirts instead. Of course I did. Slipping it on, I caught my reflection in the mirror—hair a little messy from the day, her shirt falling just right on me.

My lips curved slightly.

“…yeah. That’ll do.”

I left the room, glancing at the clock again.

6:12 p.m.

Still time.

I tried to distract myself—turned on the TV, flipped through channels, didn’t actually watch anything. Checked my phone. Put it down. Picked it up again.

Scrolled. Locked it.

“…this is ridiculous,” I muttered.

But my leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. Because no matter how many times she’d been here—no matter how normal this should’ve felt by now—it didn’t. Not completely. There was always that little spark. That anticipation. That pull.

And tonight…

After the song.

After everything it stirred up—

It felt just a little more intense.

6:47 p.m.

I stood up.

Paced once.

Twice.

Then stopped in front of the door, like somehow that would make time move faster.

“…relax,” I told myself.

As if that was going to happen.

6:55.

The handle moved. I blinked.

“…wait—”

The door unlocked before I could even react, and then it opened—

And there she was.

Like she had just appeared.

Y/N stood there, slightly breathless, hair a little messy like she’d run a hand through it too many times, jacket still on—

And the second her eyes landed on me—

She smiled.

Wide.

Immediate.

Like it had been longer than three days. Like those three days had actually mattered.

My chest tightened.

“Hi—”

I didn’t even get to finish.

She stepped in, closing the door behind her without looking, already moving toward me—and then her arms were around me, pulling me in like she’d been waiting all day for this.

Like she needed it.

The height difference made it effortless. I barely had time to react before I was pressed against her, her warmth wrapping around me—her face burying into the side of my neck.

“Hey,” she murmured, voice soft, a little rough.

I exhaled, my hands coming up instantly, gripping onto her like I had something to prove.

“Hi,” I whispered back.

God. Three days. It wasn’t long. It shouldn’t have felt like this.

But it did.

She held me tighter, like she was making up for lost time. “Gosh, I missed you,” she mumbled against my skin.

And this time—I didn’t tease her.

“…I missed you too,” I admitted, quieter.

She stilled for half a second at that, like she felt it—really felt it—before pulling back just enough to look at me. Her eyes softened, something warm and a little undone flickering there. “Yeah?” she asked gently.

I nodded, not trusting myself to say it again without sounding… too much. But she already knew. She always did.

And then—she kissed me.

Not rushed. Not playful. Slow. Like she was grounding herself, like she was reminding herself I was actually here. My hand slid up to her jaw, holding her there as I leaned into it, letting it linger just a little longer than usual.

When we finally pulled back, my forehead rested briefly against hers. “…you’re early,” I murmured softly.

Y/N smiled faintly. “Couldn’t stay away.”

That did something to my chest. Of course it did.

Her gaze dropped slightly—and she paused. “…is that my shirt?” she asked.

I glanced down, then back up at her, completely unapologetic. “Maybe.”

Her smile returned, softer this time. “…looks better on you.”

I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t move—didn’t step away. Because after three days, this—this was exactly where I wanted to be.

Her smile lingered for a second longer before she finally shifted, like she’d just remembered something. “Oh—” Y/N pulled back slightly, one arm still loosely around my waist as she lifted the other.

A takeout bag.

I blinked. “…you brought food?”

She raised a brow, a hint of amusement slipping into her expression. “You just noticed?”

I glanced down at it, then back up at her, a little sheepish. “I was… distracted.”

Y/N huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah, I could tell.” She gently nudged the bag toward me. “Figured you wouldn’t have eaten properly,” she added, tone casual—but there was that underlying care she didn’t even try to hide anymore.

My chest warmed. “…I had a meeting,” I defended weakly.

“Exactly,” she said, like that proved her point.

I rolled my eyes, but took the bag from her anyway, peeking inside. The smell hit immediately. “…oh my god.”

Y/N watched my reaction, clearly pleased with herself. “Yeah?”

I looked up at her, genuinely impressed. “You got my favorite.”

“I know.”

Of course she did.

I shook my head, smiling as I walked toward the kitchen, setting the bag down on the counter. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” she cut in easily, shrugging off her jacket.

I turned back just in time to see her toss it over the chair, already making herself at home like she always did—like this place was just as much hers as it was mine. And honestly? It kind of was.

“You eat yet?” I asked, opening the containers.

Y/N shook her head, leaning casually against the counter across from me. “Not really.”

I paused, glancing up at her. “Then we’re sharing.”

She smirked. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

I grabbed two sets of chopsticks, handing one to her as I nudged the food between us. We stayed by the counter at first, eating straight from the containers like we always did when neither of us felt like being proper—comfortable, easy, familiar.

But it didn’t take long before the silence shifted—subtle, but noticeable. Because there was something sitting between us. Unsaid.

I glanced at her, catching the way she was focused on her food a little too much. “…so,” I started casually, leaning my hip against the counter. “The song.”

Y/N’s chopsticks paused mid-air for a second. Then she resumed eating like nothing happened. “Mm,” she hummed. “What about it?”

I narrowed my eyes slightly. “You really just dropped that,” I said. “No warning. No heads-up. Nothing.”

She glanced up at me, already reading the tone behind it. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said simply.

I blinked. “…a surprise?”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah.”

“For who?” I asked, half incredulous.

“For everyone,” she replied—then her eyes softened slightly when they met mine. “For you, too.”

That… did something to me. But still—

“You couldn’t have, I don’t know, mentioned it?” I pressed, though there wasn’t real anger behind it. “Like, ‘hey Lizzie, I’m about to release a very—very—specific song’?”

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh, scratching the back of her neck. “Okay, yeah… maybe I should’ve.”

I raised a brow. “Maybe?”

She exhaled, her expression shifting—more serious now. “I didn’t think it would hit like this,” she admitted. “The reactions. The speculation… all of it.” Her gaze flickered over my face, searching. “And I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she added quietly. “So if it did, I—”

“Hey.”

I didn’t even let her finish. My chopsticks clattered softly onto the counter as I stepped forward, closing the small distance between us.

She looked up, slightly caught off guard.

I didn’t say anything else—just moved.

One second I was standing in front of her—the next, I was settling onto her lap, turning slightly so I was facing her properly.

Her hands instinctively came to my waist, steadying me.

“Liz—”

“I liked it,” I said immediately.

She blinked.

“…what?”

“I liked the song,” I repeated, softer this time, my hands resting lightly on her shoulders. “A lot.”

Something in her expression shifted—like tension she hadn’t even realized she was holding started to ease.

“You did?” she asked, almost careful.

I nodded, a small smile pulling at my lips.

“Yeah.”

Her thumbs brushed absently against my sides, grounding, but there was still a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

“…it didn’t freak you out?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“No.”

A pause. Then, quieter—“It’s not the first time you’ve said those things to me,” I added. “It’s just… the first time the world heard it too.”

Y/N watched me for a second, really watched me.

“…and you’re okay with that?” she asked.

I held her gaze.

There was still that carefulness in her eyes—like she was bracing for something, like she didn’t want to push too far.

God.

She really didn’t get it sometimes.

My hands slid up slightly on her shoulders, grounding myself before I spoke.

“I love you too,” I said softly.

The words landed between us—familiar, but still heavy in the best way. Her breath caught just a little.

And I didn’t look away.

“I’ve loved you,” I continued, quieter but steadier now. “This doesn’t change that.”

Her eyes searched mine, like she was making sure—really making sure.

So I gave her more.

“And I don’t care if the world knows about us,” I added.

That did it.

I felt the shift in her hands immediately—tightening just slightly at my waist, like something in her had finally settled.

“Lizzie…” she murmured.

“I mean it,” I said, brushing my thumb lightly along her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s a lot. And yeah, people are going to talk and speculate and be… insane.”

That pulled the faintest smile from her.

“But they already are,” I added softly. “And none of that changes what this is.”

I leaned in just a little closer.

“What we are.”

Her gaze dropped briefly to my lips, then back up again. Something warm. Something certain.

“…you sure?” she asked, almost like she needed to hear it one more time.

I smiled.

“Yeah.”

A small pause.

Then, a little teasing—because I couldn’t help it:

“Besides,” I murmured, “if you’re going to write songs like that about me…”

Her lips twitched.

“…kind of hard to stay a secret.”

She let out a quiet breath, somewhere between a laugh and something more emotional.

“Fair point,” she said.

But then her expression softened again, deeper this time.

More real.

Her hand came up, brushing lightly against my cheek.

“…I meant what I said too,” she murmured.

“I know.”

And I did.

Because I could feel it—

In the way she held me.

In the way she looked at me.

In everything she didn’t even have to say anymore.

Her forehead rested briefly against mine.

“…you’re really okay with this?” she asked one last time.

I didn’t hesitate.

“I’m okay with you.”

That was the answer. That had always been the answer. And whatever came with it—the world, the noise, the attention—

None of it mattered as much as this.

As her.

Y/N smiled then. Not the confident, teasing smile the world knew. Something softer. Something only I got to see.

“…come here,” she murmured.

I was already there.

Her lips were already on mine before I could say anything else.

This time, it wasn’t slow. It wasn’t careful.

It deepened almost immediately—like something that had been building all day, all week, all three days apart finally snapping into place.

I inhaled sharply against her, my hands sliding up into her hair as hers tightened at my waist, pulling me closer—closer—until there was barely any space left between us.

“Y/N…” I breathed, but it came out softer than I intended.

She answered by tilting her head, kissing me deeper, more certain—like she didn’t want to stop now that she had me again.

And I didn’t want her to.

God, I didn’t.

My fingers curled slightly in her hair, holding her there as I leaned into it, completely giving in to the warmth, the familiarity, the pull of her.

Her hands shifted—one pressing firmer against my lower back, grounding me, keeping me right where she wanted me.

And somewhere in the middle of it, I start to grind down on her lap.

It wasn’t intentional. Not really. Just instinct. Just the way my body reacted to hers—

The way I shifted on her lap, closer, seeking more without even thinking about it.

A soft, breathless sound slipped out of me before I could stop it.  The sound was barely more than a ghost, but in the quiet of the kitchen, it felt deafening.

Y/N let out a low, rough groan against my mouth, and I felt it everywhere—vibrating through my chest, settling deep in my stomach. It was raw, unfiltered want. The kind of sound that never belonged in public, never belonged to the polished version of us the world saw.

Hearing it now, after everything today, made something in my blood spark.

I didn’t pull away. I leaned into it.

My hands tightened in her hair, and I started to move—slow, deliberate. A gentle roll of my hips, pressing myself down into the heat of her lap, testing, teasing.

Y/N hands, steady on my waist just seconds ago, suddenly gripped harder. Fingers digging into the fabric of the shirt—her shirt—that I was wearing.

“Lizzie,” she rasped.

Her voice cracked just slightly as she pulled back an inch, her forehead still resting against mine. Her breathing was uneven, her eyes dark and completely locked onto me.

I didn’t stop.

If anything, I slowed down, making every movement count. Every shift of my hips more intentional, more precise.

And then I felt it.

That firm, growing pressure beneath me—impossible to miss, impossible to misunderstand. The heat of her, even through the denim, sending a sharp, electric feeling straight through me.

My lips curved before I could stop them.

Not soft. Not shy.

A smirk.

Because I knew exactly what I was doing to her.

“Oh…” I whispered, letting it trail into a quiet hum as I shifted again, deliberately chasing that friction. “Is that for me?”

Her eyes fluttered shut, her jaw tightening like she was trying to hold herself together—and failing.

Another groan slipped out of her, deeper this time.

“You know it is,” she managed, her hands sliding from my waist down to my hips, guiding me—or maybe just holding on. “God, Lizzie… you’re going to be the death of me.”

I let out a quiet, breathy chuckle, the sound brushing right against her lips.

Leaning in, I nipped lightly at her jaw before murmuring into her ear, “Good. Because after that song… I think you owe me.”

I pressed down once more—slow, firm—feeling the way her breath hitched, the way her whole body reacted under me.

The rest of the world could keep talking, guessing, analyzing. Right here, in this dim kitchen—there was only one thing that mattered.

And I was sitting right on top of it.

The heat in the kitchen had become too much—too consuming, too intense to stay contained against the counter. I barely remember how we moved, only that I didn’t let her go for more than a second before we ended up in the living room, collapsing together onto the couch.

The change of space didn’t cool anything down. It made it worse.

The kiss deepened instantly—hungrier, more desperate—like the three days apart had left something aching under my skin that only she could fix. My hands moved over her without thinking, tracing the lines of her body through her clothes, relearning, needing more.

Too much fabric.

I grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, the motion urgent, wordless. She understood immediately, breaking the kiss just long enough to lift her arms so I could drag it over her head and toss it somewhere behind me.

The second her skin was bare, she was back on me—her mouth crashing into mine with a force that made my head spin.

Then it was my turn.

Her hands found the bottom of the oversized shirt I was wearing—her shirt—and tugged it up and off. The moment it cleared my head, our skin met, and—

God.

It was like fire.

I let out a shaky breath as I settled back into her lap, straddling her, my chest rising and falling against hers. Without the layers between us, everything felt sharper. Every movement, every shift of my hips—

I felt her.

Firm. Heavy. Pressing through the denim of her jeans. Familiar.

My lips curved slightly despite how unsteady my breathing had become.

“You’re so desperate for me tonight,” I murmured against her mouth, the smirk slipping back into place even as my voice came out softer than I intended.

Her hands slid down to the small of my back, pulling me closer—flush against her.

“Can you blame me?” she breathed. “I spent twelve hours in a booth singing about exactly this. Having the real thing is… a lot better.”

Then she moved.

Her hips tilted up, pressing against me in a way that made my head fall back, a sharp gasp tearing out of my throat before I could stop it. The directness of it—the way she reacted to me so openly, so unapologetically—it sent a rush straight through me.

My hands moved on instinct, fumbling slightly in my haste as I reached for the button of her jeans. I popped it open, dragging the zipper down, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room.

She exhaled—long, shaky—as she was released from the constraint of the denim, the tension eased.

And I felt it. Her cock, already slick and aching, sprang free, pulsing against my stomach. My eyes dropped, my breath catching as I took her in, my hand moving almost automatically, wrapping around her—warm. Soft. Alive under my touch.

I tightened my grip, drawing a slow, deliberate stroke that pulled a broken sound from her.

“Lizzie…” she warned, her head dropping on my shoulder, her voice strained.

“I’ve got you,” I murmured, my voice dropping—lower, steadier, something possessive threading through it without effort. I shifted slightly, moving in a way that teased both of us, letting the contact build just enough to make her react again.

“I’ve got you,” I repeated softly, closer this time, my lips brushing near her ear. “And I’m not going anywhere.” The “soon” I’d promised earlier—everything waiting outside this moment—felt impossibly far away. Right now, none of that existed. No public. No expectations. No noise. Just her beneath me—and the undeniable, electric reality of us.

The air felt thick—heavy with the scent of us, with everything that had been building since that song dropped at midnight.

I didn’t slow my hand.

I kept that same steady rhythm—firm, knowing—and I felt the exact moment her composure started to crack. She leaned into me, her hips lifting instinctively into my touch, like she couldn’t help it anymore. Our kiss turned messy—desperate, teeth catching, breath mixing—until she pulled away, like she needed air just as much as she needed more of me.

Then her face was in my neck.

Her breath hit hot and uneven against my skin, and I shivered as she started moving—slowly, deliberately—her lips dragging along my jaw, then down my throat. Every small bite, every soft press of her tongue after, pulled sharp, shaky breaths out of me before I could stop them.

“Don’t stop,” she murmured against my skin.

I felt it more than I heard it.

“God, Lizzie… don’t stop.”

I wasn’t going to. My grip tightened, my thumb sweeping over the crown of Y/N’s cock, catching the beads of moisture gathering there. I watched her—really watched her—the way her eyes rolled back, the tension in her arms as she braced herself against the couch.

It did something to me.Seeing her like that. Undone. Because of me.

But she wasn’t the only one losing control.

Her hands moved over me, sliding up my sides, fingers spreading over my ribs like she was feeling everything—my breath, my heartbeat. Then higher, thumbs brushing just beneath my breasts before her mouth followed.

I gasped softly, my head tipping back as she moved lower, her kisses turning slower, heavier, more deliberate along my collarbone. My fingers tightened in her hair, holding her there without even thinking.

And when Y/N reached my chest—She didn’t hesitate. The moment her mouth closed around my nipple, her tongue moving in a way that sent a sharp, direct pulse straight through me—I gasped, my hips jerking forward on instinct.

The movement pressed me harder against the base of Y/N’s pulsing length, the friction sudden and overwhelming, and for a second it was almost too much.

But I didn’t stop. If anything, I sped up. My hand moved faster, more urgent now, feeling the way she was swelling, the way everything in her was starting to give.

I could feel it—the way she was winding up again, every small break in her control finally collapsing into something much sharper, much heavier. And I held onto it. Pushing her right to the edge.

The room felt smaller, like everything had narrowed down to just us—the sound of our breathing, heavy and uneven, and the soft brush of skin against skin.

I barely had time to think before her hands moved to the clasp of my bra. Even with the slight tremor in her fingers, she was sure, steady. A quick flick—and it gave way, the lace loosening and falling from me. Y/N pulled back just enough to reach for the clasp of my bra, her fingers sure and steady despite the slight tremor of adrenaline. With a deft flick, she released it, letting the lace fall away.

A sharp, cut-off gasp slipped from my lips.

Y/N’s mouth was on me immediately—warm, firm, claiming—while her hand cupped the other one. The sensation hit all at once, overwhelming and grounding at the same time, like the only thing keeping me tethered while everything else blurred.

My hand never stopped. Still wrapped around her, still moving—firm, slick—feeling every pulse, every shift in her as she reacted. My other hand stayed tangled in her hair, holding her there, silently urging her not to stop.

“God, you’re so good to me,” she groaned against my skin. I felt it more than I heard it, the vibration running straight through me. She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes dark—heavy with something deeper than just want.

“Lizzie, you’re perfect. Everything about you.”

The smirk I’d been holding onto slipped away. All I could do was look at her, breathless, my chest rising and falling as I felt the way she harder and harder beneath me—the tension building in her thighs, her breathing turning sharp, uneven. Her cock starting to throb in my hand.

“Lizzie… I’m close,” she rasped, her voice breaking. “I’m so close.”

I didn’t answer. I just tightened my grip. My hand moved faster, more focused, every movement deliberate as I pushed her closer. My thumb brushed the crown focusing there, and her head fell back to my shoulder, a deep, raw sound tearing from her.

Then suddenly—

She surged forward, pulling me into a kiss that stole whatever breath I had left.

And I felt it. Her whole body tensed, a sharp shudder running through her as a hot, heavy release coated my fingers as she came in my hand—hot, overwhelming, the force of it making her go weak against me. She collapsed into me, arms wrapping tight, almost desperate, her face pressed into my shoulder as she rode it out.

I held her there, my own breathing uneven, my heart pounding against hers. For a moment, neither of us moved. Just that—our hearts racing, bodies pressed together.

Then she shifted.

Before I could react, her arms hooked under my thighs and she flipped us in one smooth motion. A breathless laugh escaped me as I landed back against the couch, her body now above mine.

Y/N reached for her bra, tossing it aside like it didn’t matter anymore, her hands already moving to the waistband of my jeans. I looked up at her—and the look in her eyes made my breath catch again.

Bright. Focused. Dangerous in a way I knew meant I was in trouble.

“My turn,” she whispered, her smile slow, certain.

My breath hitched as I felt her tug at my jeans, my heart already racing for what came next.

---

Next Morning

The next morning came softly—warm, quiet.

And then—

Ding dong.

I groaned, my face still buried somewhere warm and familiar. “…no,” I mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

Ding dong.

I shifted slightly—and that’s when I realized.

I wasn’t in bed.

I was… on the couch.

More specifically—on Y/N.

My eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light spilling through the windows. Y/N was still asleep beneath me, completely still except for the steady rise and fall of her chest. One arm was wrapped securely around my back, the other resting loosely at my side, like even in her sleep she hadn’t wanted to let me go.

And we were—

Oh.

Right.

Naked.

I huffed a quiet, sleepy laugh, my lips curving as I took her in. “…you’re going to have the worst back pain,” I murmured softly. Because somehow, at some point, we’d ended up here—half tangled, half collapsed—falling asleep in the middle of everything. There was a blanket thrown over us, barely covering anything, like one of us had tried… and then given up halfway.

I didn’t remember when. Or how. I must’ve passed out.

But still—she’d held onto me. Even like this.

My fingers lifted, brushing gently through her hair, slow and careful. God. She looked peaceful. Soft in a way the world never got to see.

Ding dong.

I groaned again, dropping my forehead lightly against her shoulder. “…whoever that is, I hate them.”

The bell rang again. Persistent. Annoying. Very much not going away.

I sighed, reluctantly pushing myself up—careful not to wake her as I slipped out of her arms. She shifted slightly at the loss, brow furrowing just a little, but didn’t wake. “Sorry,” I whispered, pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder.

Then I stood.

And immediately paused.

“…oh my god.”

The living room was a mess. Clothes everywhere—on the floor, on the couch, half hanging off the table. And—

I pressed my lips together, trying, and failing, not to smile. Used condoms. Two on the floor, one definitely on the coffee table, wrappers scattered around like we hadn’t even tried to be discreet.

“…wow,” I muttered under my breath.

I shook my head, heat creeping up my neck despite everything. “…okay.”

Grabbing a robe quickly, I slipped it on and tied it tight before making my way to the door, running a hand through my hair in a half-hearted attempt to look presentable.

Ding dong.

“I’m coming!” I called, still a little hoarse. I reached for the handle, pulling the door open—and froze.

“…oh my god.”

There she was. Mary-Kate. Standing on my doorstep like she hadn’t just flown across the country on a mission, looking way too pleased with herself.

Her eyes flicked over me instantly—taking in the robe, the messy hair, the very obvious context. Her lips curved. “Well,” she said casually. “Good morning.” She leaned slightly to peek past me into the apartment. “…I came to meet your girlfriend,” she added, far too calm.

I just stared at her.

“…you said soon,” she continued, completely unapologetic. “I interpreted that as immediately.”

I blinked once. Twice. Then glanced back over my shoulder—at the very naked, very asleep singer currently on my couch, and the very incriminating state of my living room—then back at her.

“…you have got to be kidding me.”

Mary-Kate’s smile only grew. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

I immediately stepped out just enough to block the doorway. “No,” I said quickly. “No, it’s not. You can’t just—show up like this—”

“Lizzie,” Mary-Kate cut in, already trying to peek around me again, “you’re wearing a robe at”—she checked her phone—“eight in the morning.” She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing just enough to take in the details. “…and your hair looks like that.”

I deadpanned. “Thank you.”

Her smirk turned sharper. “So she’s here.”

I crossed my arms. “That is not the point.”

“That is exactly the point.”

She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice just enough to make it worse. “…I can smell it.”

I froze. “…you can—what?”

Mary-Kate waved a hand vaguely. “Not literally. Just—” she gestured toward me, then past me—“the vibe.”

I stared at her. “…you’re insane.”

“Move,” she said simply.

“No.”

“Lizzie.”

“No.”

A beat.

Then Mary-Kate spoke again, calm as ever—“Is she naked?”

I choked. “Okay—nope—conversation over.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh my god, she is.”

I pressed my lips together, trying very hard not to laugh and scream at the same time. “You are not coming in here right now,” I said, lowering my voice. “She’s asleep.”

That made her pause. A small shift. Because despite everything—she wasn’t completely heartless.

“…I flew all the way here,” Mary-Kate said, softer this time—but still stubborn.

“And you’ll survive waiting five minutes,” I shot back.

She studied me for a second. Then, unexpectedly—she smiled. Small. Knowing.

“…you really like her,” she said.

I didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

No deflection. No teasing. Just—yeah.

Her expression softened, just for a second. “…okay,” she said, holding her hands up slightly. “I’ll behave.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t know how to behave.”

“That’s fair,” she admitted.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “…give me a minute.”

She nodded—reluctantly.

I stepped back inside, closing the door just enough to leave them outside, then leaned against it for half a second. “…oh my god,” I whispered to myself.

Then I pushed off and turned—and immediately softened. Because there she was. Still on the couch. Still asleep. Barely shifted from where I left her, except now one arm was stretched out where I had been, like she’d reached for me even in her sleep.

My chest tightened.

“…hey,” I murmured quietly, walking back over. I crouched beside Y/N, brushing my fingers gently through her hair again.

She stirred this time—brows furrowing slightly before her eyes blinked open, slow and heavy with sleep. “…Lizzie?” she mumbled, voice rough.

“Hi.”

She squinted up at me, clearly still half asleep. “…what time is it?”

“Too early,” I said.

That earned a faint, sleepy huff from her. Then her gaze focused a little more. “…why are you dressed?”

I smiled despite myself. “Because—”

I didn’t get to finish.

Her hand caught my wrist, tugging me forward before I could react. A soft yelp left me as I lost my balance, landing right back on top of her, the blanket shifting around us. “Y/N—” I started, but it came out more breath than protest. She was already smiling—sleepy, warm, dangerous in that quiet way of hers.

“Mm,” she hummed, eyes still half-lidded as her hands settled at my waist. “You left.”

“I was gone for like—two minutes,” I said, but my voice softened automatically as she pulled me closer.

“Too long,” she murmured.

Her fingers brushed the edge of my robe, slowly, like she was rediscovering me all over again. My breath caught slightly.

“Y/N…” I warned, though there wasn’t much strength behind it.

She looked up at me, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

“What?”

Her hands slid a little higher, pushing the robe open just enough to expose my shoulder. “You are not supposed to wear this yet,” she added, quieter now.

My breath hitched as her lips brushed just under my ear—soft at first, then a light nip that sent a sharp shiver down my spine. I bit my lip instantly, trying to keep quiet, but it barely helped.

“Y/N…” I whispered, already losing a bit of my resolve.

She hummed against my skin, clearly pleased with herself, her voice dropping as she murmured teasingly into my ear—“Thought you liked it when I take my time…”

That did it.

I turned my head, catching her lips in a kiss that was anything but slow this time—harder, needier, like the night before hadn’t been nearly enough. Her hands moved instinctively, sliding along my sides, pushing the robe further open—and then one of them lifted, settling against my chest—

“Wait—”

I caught her wrist gently but firmly, breaking the kiss just enough to breathe.

She frowned slightly, confused, still close enough that I could feel her breath against my lips. “…why?”

I let out a shaky exhale, pressing my forehead lightly against hers. “Because,” I said, trying—and failing—to sound unaffected, “my sister is outside.”

A pause.

Y/N blinked. “…your sister.”

“Mm-hm.”

Another pause.

Then her eyes closed briefly as she groaned under her breath. “…that is incredibly bad timing.”

I laughed softly, still a little breathless. “You think?”

She opened her eyes again, looking at me—really looking—like she was debating whether or not it was worth ignoring that fact. “…we have five minutes,” she said slowly.

I raised a brow. “Y/N.”

“I’m just saying—”

“No.”

She huffed, but there was a faint smile tugging at her lips. “…fine.”

I leaned in, pressing a quick, softer kiss to her mouth—gentler this time. “Later,” I murmured.

Her expression shifted instantly at that. “…yeah?” she asked.

I smiled. “Yeah.”

That seemed to satisfy her.

For now.

I pushed myself up with a quiet exhale, forcing my brain to actually function. “Okay—move,” I muttered, already stepping off her.

Y/N let out a soft, reluctant groan as I left her, but she didn’t argue this time. Instead, she ran a hand through her hair and sat up, blinking away the last of her sleep.

I grabbed the nearest thing—a shirt from the floor—and started picking up whatever I could reach. “…condoms,” I muttered under my breath, scooping up the very obvious evidence from the table and floor. “Great. Fantastic. Love that for me.”

Y/N snorted softly behind me. “Hey,” she said, voice still rough, “that’s teamwork.”

I shot her a look over my shoulder. “You’re helping.”

“I am helping,” she said, already leaning down to grab her boxers from the floor.

I huffed but didn’t argue, tossing wrappers into the trash as fast as I could. Behind me, I heard the soft rustle of fabric as she pulled on her boxers, then reached for the rest of her clothes—her bra, her shirt, her jeans—moving quickly but without that earlier rush. Now it was… focused. Real.

“We have, like, two minutes,” I said, glancing at the door.

“We’re fine,” she replied, way too calm for someone about to meet my sister for the first time.

“Easy for you to say.”

She smirked faintly. “I’m charming.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing the last of the mess before backing toward the hallway. “Bathroom,” I pointed.

“Got it.”

I disappeared into my room while she headed the other way.

---

A few minutes later, I stepped out, now fully dressed, hair quickly fixed, trying to look like I hadn’t just—well. Everything.

At the same time, the bathroom door opened. Y/N walked out, running a hand through her hair one last time, looking… annoyingly put together for someone who had been asleep on my couch five minutes ago.

She glanced at me immediately. “…do I look okay?” she asked.

I didn’t even hesitate.

I stepped closer, reaching up slightly before leaning in and pressing a quick, soft kiss to her lips. “You look perfect,” I murmured.

Her shoulders relaxed just a fraction at that. “…good.”

I smiled faintly, then grabbed the perfume from the table, spraying it quickly. “Okay,” I said, more to myself than anything. “We’re doing this.”

Y/N nodded once. “Yeah.”

I took a breath, reaching for the door. And then—I opened it.

Mary-Kate was still there. Waiting. Watching.

And the second she saw us, her expression shifted—curious, assessing, and just a little too amused.

I glanced back at Y/N briefly, then stepped aside.

“Alright,” I said. “You wanted to meet her.”

A small pause.

Then—

“This is Y/N.”

I stepped aside, giving her a clear view.

For a split second, everything went… still.

Y/N, standing just behind me, lifted her hand in a small, polite wave—calm, composed, like she wasn’t standing in front of my sister for the first time after… all of that. “Hi,” she said simply.

Mary-Kate didn’t wave back.

She just looked at her—up, down, then back up again. A slow, impressed hum left her.

“…okay,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “You’re hotter in person.”

“—Mary-Kate,” I snapped immediately.

Y/N blinked, clearly caught off guard—and then, just slightly, she blushed. Actually *blushed*. Which somehow made it worse.

Mary-Kate let out a quiet breath through her nose, clearly amused—but at least she didn’t push it further. “What?” she said, glancing at me. “I’m just being honest.”

“You’re being inappropriate,” I shot back.

Y/N cleared her throat softly, lowering her hand with a small, slightly awkward smile. “…hi,” she said again, a little more unsure this time.

Mary-Kate stepped forward then, shifting gears. “Hi,” she replied calmly this time, extending her hand. “I’m Mary-Kate.”

Y/N took it immediately, grateful for the normal interaction. “Nice to meet you.”

There was a brief pause. A weird one. Not uncomfortable exactly—but new. Everyone taking each other in.

I cleared my throat, stepping in before Mary-Kate could say anything else that would make this worse. “…so,” I said, forcing a small smile, “how about breakfast?”

That seemed to break the tension just enough. Mary-Kate shrugged. “I flew here. I’ll take food.”

“Great,” I said quickly, already turning toward the kitchen—and, without thinking, reaching back to grab Y/N’s hand and pull her along with me.

The second we were out of direct view, I let out a quiet breath. “…oh my god.”

Y/N chuckled softly beside me. “That went well.”

I shot her a look. “Did it?”

She smiled, relaxed despite everything. “I’m still alive, so yeah.”

I huffed a laugh, moving around the kitchen to grab plates. Then, out of nowhere—

“You know,” Y/N said casually, leaning against the counter, “you really do look like her.”

I paused. “…what?”

She gestured vaguely toward the living room. “Your sister. You look like twins.”

I stared at her for a second—then laughed. “Okay, first of all—rude. And second, she has her own twin.”

She grinned. “I’m serious.”

I shook my head, still smiling as I turned back to the counter. But then—I glanced at her again, a thought clicking into place.

“…wait,” I said slowly, narrowing my eyes. “Is that why you blushed?”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“Earlier,” I pressed, pointing slightly. “At the door. When she said…” I stopped myself, rolling my eyes. “When she said you were hotter in person.”

She immediately lifted her hands in defense. “No—no,” she said quickly. “That’s not—”

I raised a brow.

“I was just caught off guard,” she added, a little more carefully this time.

I studied her for a second. “…uh-huh.”

“I was,” she insisted, softer now.

Then she stepped closer—and just like that, the teasing faded a little.

“Yeah, you look alike,” she said, voice quieter. “But…” Her eyes met mine. “…you’re different.”

Something in my chest shifted. “How?” I asked, before I could stop myself.

Y/N smiled—small, but real. “You’re you.”

Simple. But the way she said it—like it meant everything.

“…smooth,” I muttered, but there was no bite to it.

She huffed a quiet laugh. “I mean it.”

I looked at her for a second longer, then shook my head, turning back to the counter to hide the way I was smiling. “Yeah, yeah,” I murmured. “Help me before she comes in here and starts judging my cooking.”

Y/N pushed off the counter immediately. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, stepping beside me.

And just like that—it felt normal again.

Well.

As normal as it could be—with my sister in the other room, and the girl I loved standing right next to me.

---

Everything… actually went well.

Surprisingly well.

There were a few teasing comments—mostly from Mary-Kate—but nothing Y/N couldn’t handle. In fact, she handled it better than I expected. Calm, easy, just the right amount of charm without trying too hard.

Mary-Kate warmed up to her quickly. That quiet, observant way she had? Y/N met it with the same kind of steady presence, and somewhere between breakfast and coffee, they just… clicked. Mary-Kate, of course, still tested her a little. Pushing. Waiting to see if Y/N would crack.

She didn’t.

And by the time they were both laughing over something stupid I’d said—completely at my expense, obviously—I realized something.

Y/N fit.

Not perfectly. Not instantly. But naturally.

Like she wasn’t forcing her way into my world—she was just… stepping into it.

---

Later, after MK left—after the apartment finally went quiet again—my phone buzzed.

I glanced down.

A message from Mary-Kate.

Mary-Kate:

Y/N is approved! I really like her.

I smiled before I could stop myself. Then—another message came through.

Ashley:

So you’re telling me you met her WITHOUT ME?

A second one, almost immediately—

Ashley:

I’m offended.

…another.

Ashley:

Actually no, I’m jealous.

I huffed out a quiet laugh. Of course she was.

Mary-Kate:

You were busy.

The reply came instantly.

Ashley:

That’s not the point and you know it.

I shook my head, locking my phone. “…unbelievable.”

But I was smiling. Of course I was. I looked up from my phone—and there she was. Y/N, sprawled comfortably on my couch like she belonged there, scrolling through something on her own phone, completely unaware of the messages I’d just gotten.

My chest softened.

“…hey,” I said.

She glanced up immediately. “Yeah?”

I shook my head, smile still lingering. “Nothing.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly. “You’re smiling.”

“Am I not allowed to smile?”

“Not like that,” she said, already suspicious.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Just—come here.”

She didn’t question it—just got up and walked over, settling beside me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Which, at this point—It was.

---

Outside our little bubble, though—the world hadn’t slowed down.

Pillowtalk kept climbing. Streams rising, charts updating, the buzz getting louder. It hit Billboard.

And the speculation? It only got worse.

Fans digging through interviews, clips resurfacing, every glance, every interaction, every *moment* being picked apart.

“WHO IS SHE???”

“SHE HAS TO BE SOMEONE FAMOUS.”

And all the while—we stayed quiet. Stayed in this space that was still ours, for a little while longer.

---

Until few weeks later—we were spotted.

Just a simple moment. A walk, a laugh, a hand that lingered a little too long.

And suddenly—we were everywhere. Viral.

But that?

That’s a story for another day.

---

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[w1dowatrace]

Purple Rain

Chapter 2: Friendless | 4.1k

Summary: You'd do anything for ten bucks—what more for forty an hour?

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: Cigarettes were harmed in this chapter, alcohol consumption, mentions of prostitution, socioeconomic differences, excessive staring and laughter from Wanda, reader roasts people for a living

Author's Note: How many cigarette do you consume in a day?

Navigation | Masterlist | Tip jar

ᱬ

The digital clock hanging on the coffee shop wall blinked 2:33 AM in dull red numbers.

Wanda sat at her usual table, one leg crossed over the other, a thick book spread open in front of her while a cup of black coffee steamed quietly beside it. Her dark red hair was messily pushed back; she's dressed simply in black slacks and a plain white shirt beneath her suit jacket.

She looked calm, untouchable.

Which only made it funnier when someone knocked against the coffee shop window.

"I love you."

Her eyes lifted immediately. There you were outside, grinning at her like you already knew her. Mouthing the words through the glass.

Wanda frowned slightly, glancing around the nearly empty coffee shop to make sure you couldn't possibly be talking to someone else. But no, at this hour, she was the only customer left. Her gaze shifted back to you. You only smiled wider, a cigarette pack visible in your hand as you motioned for her to come outside.

Suspicious but intrigued, Wanda slowly closed her book, grabbed her jacket, and stepped out into the cold night air.

You already had a cigarette between your lips by the time she approached. The ember glowed faintly as you took a drag, smoke curling around your face before disappearing into the darkness—still smiling.

"Hey," she greeted cautiously.

"Hey, you," you replied with an easy chuckle, holding out the pack and lighter toward her. "Want one?"

Wanda hesitated for half a second before taking a cigarette from the box. You leaned forward automatically, shielding the flame with your hand while lighting it for her.

She inhaled slowly, eyes never leaving yours. The tension should've felt awkward. Instead, it felt strangely natural.

"See those two inside?" you asked, tilting your head toward the coffee shop window.

Wanda followed your gaze. Near the counter your two friends were doing inventories, completely unaware they were being discussed.

"That big guy?" you continued. "That's Vision. He has a crush on you. We all thought you were beautiful, actually," you admitted shamelessly. "So we made a bet. Whoever managed to say I love you to you first wins."

A corner of her mouth twitched. "How much did you win?"

"Five bucks each." You shrugged casually. "Ten in total. Honestly, if I knew you'd actually come talk to me, I should've made it twenty."

Wanda let out a quiet scoff through her smoke. "So that job interrogation before?" she asked, giving you a pointed look. "That was a bet too?"

"You remember that?" you laughed, almost guiltily, exhaling another cloud of smoke. "Listen, money is money."

The streetlight above flickered softly, casting gold across her features. You noticed the sharp line of her jaw, the way exhaustion sat subtly beneath her eyes, the cigarette glowing red between her fingers every time she inhaled.

She was intimidating…and beautiful you have to admit. And she looks like she goes to the gym—she's a bit muscular for a woman.

"Y/N, by the way," you said after a moment. "And you are?"

Wanda looked at you through the smoke she exhaled, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make you squint at her dramatically.

"I'm just asking for your name," you protested. "Not your social security num—"

"Wanda."

You repeated it immediately, like testing how it sounded in your mouth. "Wanda," you echoed with a grin. "No I love you too? That's cold."

And finally—she laughed. Low and warm and sudden enough to completely break through the composed, unreadable expression she'd been wearing whenever she's in the coffee shop.

"See?" you pointed at her like you'd accomplished something important. "I definitely should've made it twenty."

Wanda shook her head, still smiling despite herself.

"You know," you added more quietly, watching her carefully now, "you should smile like that more often." Your eyes lingered on her expression for a second longer. "Not like when you're here, you always look so serious, so formal."

And she did smile at that.

"Aren't you scared of that?" she asked after a moment, glancing down at the cigarette pack in your hand before looking back at you. Smoke slipped from between her lips slowly as her brows pulled together. "You don't look like a smoker."

You let out a quiet laugh through your nose. "My ex taught me how."

"Your ex taught you?" Wanda repeated immediately, something sharper slipping into her tone. "Some guy seriously thought it was a good idea to get a girl like you addicted to this?"

You looked down at the cigarette between your fingers, a smirk slowly forming. "Who said it was a guy?"

That caught her off guard.

You shrugged casually, though your eyes stayed fixed on the glowing ember. "Got lied to by my ex. So this?" You lifted the cigarette slightly before dropping it to the ground and crushing it beneath your shoe. "This is from her. She gave me this habit." Then you looked back at Wanda with a crooked smile. "Besides, everything forbidden is good, right?"

Wanda watched you quietly for a second before shaking her head faintly. "Not really," she murmured. "Some things just take their time killing you."

The words settled between you heavier than expected.

She looked away first, staring across the empty street while smoke curled around her face. Then she asked, "How long have you been here? I think you're new. I've lived here for about a year," she continued, gesturing lazily with the cigarette toward the luxury condominium tower a few streets away. "Ever since my condo got turned over."

You followed where she pointed, eyebrows lifting. "That building?" You let out an amused laugh. "Damn. You're rich rich."

For the first time all night, Wanda actually looked entertained instead of composed. Most people got weird around her money. Too polite, too careful. But you? You just said whatever came to mind.

Before Wanda could say something, your attention was already diverted to an orange and white cat brushing against your legs.

"Oh, there you are."

You crouched immediately, your entire tone softening as you scratched under the cat’s chin. The cat purred loudly, rubbing against your knee like it owned the sidewalk.

"He hangs around the café all the time,” you said casually. "His name is Manager because he acts like one."

You dug through your backpack and pulled out a cat treat stick.

Wanda stared. "You always carry cat food around?"

"Only if I have extra money."

You tore the packet open and fed the cat while Wanda watched in quiet amusement. When the cat finished the treat and you carried it without hesitation.

"I have been working at the coffee shop for almost two months now." You continued, you offered her the cigarette pack again out of habit while balancing Manager, Wanda shook her head once in refusal, and you tucked it back into your pocket with a nod. "Alright," you said, stepping backward slightly. "I should probably go collect my prize money before your boyfriend in there changes his mind."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Oh?" you grinned.

Wanda rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched again.

You smiled properly then. "Thanks for the extra income, Wanda." You say, waving the cat's hand to her.

And with that, you turned to leave.

Wanda stayed standing there longer than she should have, staring at the spot you'd just walked away from. Maybe it was because you were beautiful in a way that didn't seem forced. Maybe it was because of the nicotine-filled conversation, how talking to you had been surprisingly easy and enjoyable. Maybe it was how you baby-talked to the cat—how gentle you are. Or maybe, as her psychiatrist would likely analyze, she saw a glimpse of herself in you.

But she didn't know what she saw or for what reason, she just all of a sudden came up to you and asked before you could even cross the street as you got out of the cafe.

"Hey."

You turned around.

Wanda hesitated for exactly one second before blurting out, "How much if you stay with me the whole night?"

You froze, then slowly looked offended. "Excuse me?" you said flatly. "I'm not a prostitute."

The embarrassment hit Wanda immediately.

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath, dragging a hand through her auburn hair. "That came out wrong."

"Yeah, no shit."

She huffed out an exhausted laugh before meeting your glare again. "Okay. Let me try that again." She pointed vaguely between the two of you. "How much if you come with me for…three hours?"

Your expression somehow got worse. "To do what exactly?" you asked incredulously. "You basically just reworded the first sentence. What do you think people do at this hour? Only sex, right?"

That actually made her laugh properly. And when she looked at you again, the amusement faded just enough for you to notice the exhaustion sitting behind her eyes.

"No," she said softly. "No sex."

Her voice dropped quieter after that, sincerity replacing the teasing tone completely.

"I just…" she exhaled slowly, glancing away for a second before looking back at you. "I can't sleep."

The street suddenly felt quieter.

"I just need someone to talk to."

And somehow, that's how you ended up sitting across the woman in a terrace bar at almost three in the morning.

The music was low, drowned beneath the hum of distant conversations and clinking glasses. Warm lights hung above the rooftop, soft enough to blur everything around the edges and make the city below look prettier than it probably was. Wanda sat comfortably across from you in the booth, suit jacket discarded beside her, whiskey sour resting loosely in her hand like this place was second nature to her.

Meanwhile, you were trying very hard not to look like you'd never been somewhere like this before.

Because you hadn't.

You kept glancing around without meaning to. At the expensive-looking drinks being carried around by waiters. At people laughing too loudly in clothes that probably cost more than your monthly rent.

Everything about the place screamed money.

And this woman in front of you fit into it effortlessly—you didn't.

And to make things worse, you were still carrying your bag, not even a cool freaking bag. A worn-out backpack that you literally looked like Dora. Honestly, the entire bag looked like your whole life was inside it—your charger, taxation book, sticky notes, barely passed case study papers, and probably some emotional damages too.

Wanda watched you shove it further as you looked at your cigarette pack. "You brought your whole house with you?"

"I came straight from work…and school just so you know," you muttered.

"Still." Her eyes flicked toward the bag again. "You look like you're about to ask me if I've seen Swiper."

You looked offended immediately. "First of all, that's Boots. Second, don't disrespect my bag, you ignorant."

And this woman just laughed. And somehow, hearing her laugh made the entire situation feel even more ridiculous.

You finally found your Marlboro blues and pointed it towards her warningly. "If you do something bad to me, I'm letting Vision handle you."

Wanda immediately threw her head back and laughed—again.

God, you were funny without even trying.

"I mean," she said once she calmed down, amusement still lingering in her voice, "Isn't it obvious I'm gay? I'd rather have the other girl handle me."

You shrugged casually. "It is obvious. And honestly? If Kate's the one handling you instead of Vision, you'd probably enjoy that more."

That earned another laugh from her.

You pulled a stick from your pack, sliding one between your lips before lighting it. Smoke drifted lazily upward while you squinted at her suspiciously.

"Wait," you said slowly, forehead creasing. "How much was your offer again? Just so we're absolutely clear here."

"Forty dollars an hour."

The silent what the fuck that crossed your face made Wanda hide a smile behind her glass.

"Forty?" you repeated.

"Per hour."

You leaned back against the booth, genuinely stunned. For someone juggling three jobs just to stay afloat, that amount of money sounded insane. Three hours with her would already be more than what you made in a week in your one part-time job.

"Forty dollars an hour for company," you murmured, staring at the cigarette between your fingers. Then you looked up at her properly. "You must be really sad and friendless if you're willing to pay someone that much just to talk to you."

Wanda didn't laugh this time but she didn't look offended either. She simply took another sip of her whiskey sour, eyes lowering briefly to the amber liquid in her glass.

"You know," you continued after a moment, "that drink's only gonna knock you out for a couple hours max. Then you'll wake up again."

Wanda listened silently.

"Your body needs deep sleep, not drunk sleep," you said, leaning your elbow against the table. "Warm milk helps, apparently. And I read somewhere that insomniacs usually can't sleep because they think too much. I'm used to staying awake anyway. Remember my ex? She said, she was from New York, so the time difference was awful. I kept adjusting my sleep schedule just so we could spend time together."

Your laugh this time was quieter. Bitter around the edges.

"But the whole thing was bullshit in the end." Smoke slipped from your mouth slowly as your gaze drifted toward the neon lights behind the counter. "Turns out I was basically losing sleep for someone who lied to me the entire time."

Wanda stayed quiet through all of it but not in a dismissive way. Still, after a while, it started getting on your nerves.

You narrowed your eyes at her slightly. "Hold on," you said, sitting up straighter. "Is it also a part of my job to just talk and overshare my life while you just...stare?"

That finally made Wanda glance up.

"What about you?" you asked. "Why are you rich? What do you even do?"

Wanda leaned back against the booth, her gaze briefly flicking toward the city skyline outside the window. "I'm a stockbroker," she answered calmly, gesturing toward the tall building across the street. "I work there. Stark Capital."

You turned slightly to look at the massive glass tower behind you before facing her again.

"So basically," Wanda continued, "I convince people to invest their money into industries—technology, telecomms, food companies. Shit like that." She swirled the ice in her drink absentmindedly. "I negotiate deals all day. Meetings, presentations, clients, investors. A lot of handshakes and pretending to like people." Her tone stayed casual despite the exhaustion underneath it. "High stress. High stakes."

You watched her quietly while she spoke.

Everything about Wanda screamed control. The perfectly tailored suit she has. Her calm voice. The unreadable expression she wore like armor. Even her posture looked expensive. She barely reacted to anything emotionally, always composed, always measured.

No heart, you found yourself thinking.

She belonged in an entirely different world from yours. Wanda was the kind of person who probably spent more on one dinner than you made in days. She lived in a luxury condo, worked in a glass tower, and talked about million-dollar deals like they were normal. Meanwhile, you worked yourself to exhaustion just trying to survive. Three jobs, cheap coffees, cigarettes. You dreamed about having money someday. Not even luxury—just enough that life would stop feeling like a constant emergency.

But Wanda?

Wanda looked like someone who had already won at life and still couldn't sleep at night.

"You know," Wanda said quietly, reaching over to take the cigarette from between your fingers, "you should stop smoking."

Her fingers brushed yours briefly before she brought the cigarette to her own lips instead, taking one slow drag before putting it out in the ashtray.

"Because the things we love usually end up ruining us."

You looked down at the dead cigarette in the ashtray before shrugging lazily.

"Well then, it is what it is."

Wanda let out a quiet laugh through her nose. "That's such a terrible mindset."

"And yet people keep surviving with it."

"Barely."

You pointed at her glass. "You're drinking whiskey at three in the morning. I don't think you're exactly the poster child for healthy coping mechanisms either."

"That's different."

"How?"

She opened her mouth, then stopped.

You grinned immediately. "Exactly."

Wanda shook her head, before finishing the rest of her drink in one go. "You always argue this much?"

"Only with rich women who kidnap me into bars."

"I will pay you."

"You implied prostitution first."

"That is not what I meant."

"That's exactly what it sounded like."

Wanda groaned quietly, she's already afraid someone would hear. "Can we please move past that?"

"No," you said instantly. "That humiliation stays with me forever."

That finally got another real laugh out of her.

Music pounded through the speakers, people laughed too loudly, glasses clinked nonstop somewhere behind the counter. The place was crowded now compared to earlier, full of drunk conversations and messy flirting.

You ended up sitting alone near the railings overlooking the city while Wanda disappeared into the crowd for another drink.

Your cigarette glowed orange between your fingers while you stared absentmindedly at the city below—it looked completely different from up there.

Headlights moved endlessly below like glowing rivers, cars slipping through intersections in slow streams of white and red. Buildings stretched across the city with hundreds of tiny lit windows, each one probably holding somebody still awake at this hour.

You leaned further against the cold railing, smoke slipping slowly past your lips as your eyes wandered across the endless maze of lights below. Somewhere down there were people working late shifts because they had no choice, students trying to stay awake long enough to finish requirements, exhausted employees calculating whether they could still afford rent after groceries and bills. Somewhere down there were people counting coins before buying dinner while others worried about gas prices, tuition fees, hospital bills, and overdue payments.

And then there were places like this—high above everyone else, where alcohol cost more than an entire day's salary for some people, where conversations revolved around investments, businesses, vacations, and opportunities instead of survival. It almost felt like the city itself had a hierarchy. The higher you went, the farther away you became from struggle. Down below was noise, pressure, and desperation—people rushing to catch trains, working double shifts, trying to keep themselves afloat financially while life kept demanding more from them. But up here, there was soft music, expensive glass tables, and people pretending life wasn't hard because money had made it quieter. The divide felt embarrassingly obvious from this height.

So this was what it looked like to be on top.

Across the room, Wanda stood near the bar laughing with a blonde woman who clearly had no concept of personal space—the blonde kept touching Wanda's arm. You looked away with a scoff before taking another drag.

Then suddenly a shadow fell beside you.

"Hey."

A tall guy with tattoo sleeves slid onto the stool next to yours. He smelled strongly of alcohol and bad decisions.

When Wanda brought you here, you genuinely thought rooftop bars like this only accepted rich people with sleek hair, expensive watches, and faces that looked moisturized by generational wealth. Everyone inside looked polished in an exhausting kind of way.

But this man is looking like a divorced mechanic who fights security guards recreationally.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he shouted over the music, grinning at you.

You stared at him blankly. Then deliberately exhaled cigarette smoke straight into the air.

"No thanks."

And just like that, you turned your attention back to the skyline. Apparently that wasn't clear enough for him because a second later, he reached out and grabbed your arm.

Your reaction was immediate—you caught his ear between your fingers and twisted hard enough to make him yelp.

"OW—what the fuck?!"

"I can literally make you sleep with one punch," you hissed, leaning close enough for him to hear every word clearly despite the music. "Try touching me again."

Wanda had been mid-laugh with the blonde when she noticed the commotion at the bar. Her eyes narrowed as he saw the tattooed man trying to extricate himself from your painful grip. Without hesitation, she pushed through the crowd, her hand reaching out to grab your wrist firmly.

"Let him go."

She pulled you away from the man, her arm wrapping around your waist. Her other hand extended towards the man, a warning gesture just to keep him at distance.

"You fucking pervert!" you shouted, not even bothering to look back when the man retreated.

Wanda trailed behind you. "Are you okay?"

You leaned at the railings as you grabbed your bag to get a pack of your lights. "I didn't know you weren't loyal to your girlfriend." You said accusingly. You had asked about her relationship and she told you she's dating somebody.

She blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by your sudden statement. "What? What did I do now? Where did that come from?" she asked defensively.

"What do you think you did?" you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest, finally looking at her.

Wanda scoffed, tearing open a pack of gum and popping a piece into her mouth. "You're judging me," she said around the gum, her tone implying that you had no right to criticize her. "Look, I don't know you. And I pay you to accompany me tonight."

"Why don't you ask that chick you've been eye-fucking to accompany you?"

Wanda's eyes flicked briefly toward the blonde still standing near the bar before returning to you. A slow, knowing look spread across her face as she watched you struggle to light your cigarette against the cold wind outside.

Then she smirked. "You're affected."

You scoffed immediately. "Me? Affected? You wish."

The lighter finally sparked. Just as you brought the cigarette toward your mouth, Wanda suddenly reached over and stole it from your fingers.

"Hey—"

She casually pulled the gum from her mouth, pressed it onto the cigarette tip, then flicked the whole thing over the railing without a second thought.

You stared at her in complete disbelief. "Did you seriously just assassinate my cigarette?"

"It was irritating me."

"You're irritating me."

Wanda's smile only widened at that, completely unbothered by the glare you sent her. The wind pushed loose strands of her auburn hair across her face while she leaned lazily against the railing beside you, looking far too pleased with herself.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. "You asked me because this is simple," you muttered.

Wanda's brows lifted slightly. "Simple?"

"You pay me. I stay. End of story." You shrugged casually, though your eyes stayed fixed on hers. "With girls like her, there's expectations attached."

"You think I'm avoiding complications?"

"I think you're avoiding emotional responsibility."

Wanda tilted her head slightly, quietly studying you for a moment. You talked too much, but worse—you noticed too much. It was irritating but strangely funny. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she looked away briefly.

"God," she muttered softly, shaking her head. "You really love attacking me."

You smirked immediately. "You make it easy."

Then her watch buzzed softly—three hours had already passed. Finally, the war is over, she thought.

Later, the two of you ended up sitting on the hood of Wanda's black Mazda in the parking lot, the cold air biting at your skin.

You watched her thumb through the cash with practiced ease. "Do you always walk around carrying this much money?"

"There's always something to pay for." Wanda shrugged casually as she handed you the bills. "One hundred twenty."

You stared at the money for a second longer than you meant to. It was ridiculous how much that amount mattered to you. Meanwhile, Wanda handed it over like it was nothing. You can't help but let out a smile even if you don't want to, this is the money you make for a week!

"You know, this really does make me look like a prostitute."

"Sorry," she admitted, leaning back against the windshield. "I am really a kind of a swindler. I literally make money by screwing people over professionally." She smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "One way or another."

"Well no wonder you can't sleep," you said casually. "You should resign."

"I will if you quit." She countered, pointing at the stick between your fingers.

"Hey, this is my lungs. I fuck my own body. While you, you fuck people over."

Wanda shook her head, laughing softly.

God, you were unbelievable.

You lift the cigarette to your lips and inhale deeply. The red tip glowed brighter as you held the smoke in your lungs for a moment before exhaling slowly.

You smoked like someone who didn't care what happened tomorrow.

Unfiltered. Reckless. Honest.

Wanda couldn't stop watching you.

"What about you?" she asked quietly and curiously after a while. There's just something mysterious about you even if you already told her one-fourth of your life. "Would you really do any job as long as it pays?"

You exhaled smoke directly toward her face before smirking.

"If I feel like it."

Then you hopped off the hood of the car, waving the money slightly at her.

"Thanks for tonight, rich lady."

Wanda stayed leaning against the car as you disappeared into the empty street, cigarette smoke trailing behind you in thin ghost-like ribbons.

Purple Rain: Masterlist

[w1dowatrace]

Purple Rain

Chapter 1: Bet | 1.5k

Summary: Neither of you could sleep, but for entirely different reasons.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: None yet

Author's Note: I will post this series first while we wait for that Wanda one-shot🫶

Navigation | Masterlist | Tip jar

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Ruthless, relentless, fucker.

Someone like her couldn't sleep.

Insomnia, that cruel thief, came from too many places at once—regret, overthinking, depression, anger, self-blame, loneliness.

And you.

She cannot pinpoint where it all started, the first time she saw you, the middle part of the story, or the part where it all ended. There are so many fragments in her mind, she recalled every detail of her time with you—the memories, the vivid dreams—you know?

The kind that you want to forget.

Ruthless, relentless, fucker.

Wanda Maximoff was a predator in the corporate jungle—business shark, the woman who never lost. Failure was not in her vocabulary. Every negotiation was a battlefield, every risk a gamble where the only acceptable outcome was her victory. She built her reputation by crushing competition without mercy.

So when the knock came at her condo door, she didn't break her stride. Still on the line, still playing her million-dollar chess match. She yanked the door open with one hand, phone to her ear with the other—her hard expression was replaced with a smirk instantly when she saw her girlfriend standing at the other side.

"You should give me your keys."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Rogers. Glad we could make this deal happen—just like old times," she muttered, hanging up. Another victory was secured. Now, she had another matter to win.

Wanda pulled her girlfriend inside by the waist, lips already finding hers.

"You wanna move in? I thought that was against your rules."

The woman grinned against her. "You know I love bending rules." She kissed her harder.

In Wanda's world, you are what you ride, who you ride.

And who you fucking ride.

But even in her girlfriend's arms, Wanda couldn't escape her disease—wakefulness. While she slept naked, tangled in her sheets, Wanda slipped out into the night. The city air was sharp, biting, but it cleared nothing. She walked aimlessly until she found herself at her old haunt—the cafe that once served as her insomnia refuge, her second home.

The woman was deeply engrossed in her book, the pages turning quietly as she sipped her coffee that she didn't notice the crew talk behind her back—literally.

"She's in med field, I think," Vision said, his voice low. "She's always here every damn night. She's probably a nurse or a doctor, I'd say a doctor."

"No she's not," Kate corrected Vision. "She's a lawyer." She pointed her finger at the nocturnal customer, who was still unaware of their conversation. "She's always reading books, you see?" then snapped her fingers as if to tell Vision to think.

You had just clocked in for your shift, the smell of roasted coffee beans doing little to soothe the pounding in your head. Three hours of class earlier—three hours of standing because you failed another recitation that is half of your grades. You weren't even sure how to fix it anymore. The thought of balancing school and work felt heavier than the trays you carried every night.

You couldn't sleep. Maybe it was your failed recitation once again or maybe it was the exhaustion that ran so deep it looped back around and kept you awake. You told yourself you were just tired—but there was a difference between being tired and being drained.

You worked three jobs because in this economy, one job is a joke, two is a privilege, and three is barely enough. Unless, of course, you're one of the lucky ones—a nepo baby, or worse, a daughter of a corrupt official who sleeps on silk sheets paid for by the same people skipping meals to afford rent. That while you get burnt from hot coffees that you serve and count loose change, your taxes, your sweat, end up in their pockets. The same public officials smiling on TV, preaching about public service or their projects plastered with their names and faces on it, with mouths that only ever feed themselves.

So no, you couldn't sleep. Not when you spent your nights fueling the very system that kept you awake.

And when the bills came—piling higher every month—you just stared at them for a while. You'd pay what you could, delay what you couldn't. Some things couldn't be delayed, though. The body keeps score, after all. The headaches came more often now, sharp and pulsing. The dizziness hit at random, sometimes mid-shift, sometimes mid-sentence. You'd been losing more hair too—clumps at a time—but you can worry about that later on.

You tied your apron, exhaled sharply and tried to shake it off. You needed this job. You needed the paycheck. So you breathe gaslighting yourself as you walk at the back doors, even if all you wanted to do was collapse and scream into your arms.

You spotted Vis and Kate bickering by the espresso machine the moment you walked in. Same as always. Vision was wiping a cup like it had personally offended him, while Kate leaned on the counter, gesturing animatedly with a spoon in hand. They didn't notice you right away, too caught up in their quiet argument.

"Some things never change." Part of you wanted to laugh, but exhaustion tugged heavier at your face. So you just slipped behind the counter, brushing past them with a tired sigh, "What's the debate tonight?"

"Hey stop with your pre-law shit, okay? No more debates, just some…bet." Kate grins, eyes glinting with mischief.

Vision groaned beside her, already shaking his head. "You're unbelievable," he muttered, but Kate only smirked wider.

You blinked, half-amused, half-tired. "Bet? On what now?" you asked, though you already had a sinking feeling where this was going.

Kate pointed her chin toward the woman sitting by the window—same one who'd been coming every night for weeks. "On who guesses her deal first. Doctor or lawyer. I'm team lawyer, because I love you so much and I just love the craft that you do."

You slightly jab Kate as a soft laugh escapes you. Truth is, you really wanted to be an engineer but you didn't make it to the slot that's why you ended up taking a pre-law.

"Team doctor here." Vision says while pointing at himself.

You crossed your arms, your brows furrowing as you studied the woman from a distance. "I don't think she's either," you murmured, tapping your fingers on your arms. The two looked at you curiously. You bit your lip thoughtfully before speaking up again. "I think...something about business." You were having a good feeling about your guess and that only implies one thing.

"Okay, how much for the bet?"

The two looked at each other before landing their offers.

"One dollar." Kate started, her tone was so punctuated as if what she was offering was a million dollars.

You scoffed at the lame offer. "Hey, what I will do is not easy, I will go and bother her you know? And can you see her arms? What if she'll make me a punching bag?"

Vision raised the stakes. "Four each."

You let out a successful chuckle, satisfied, "Fine," you agreed. "Four each. Losers will cover all the dishes and inventory for the whole week." Your body still ached from the three-hour class you'd barely survived, and your brain was fried from all the cases that made zero sense—but somehow, the small spark of competition and money lit you up again. At least this way, you thought, the week might actually go by a little easier—less counting, less scrubbing, more breathing, more sleep, more review, more money. You needed a win, even a small one.

"You know, if she ended up being a lawyer I will set you up with her." Kate teased, feeling so strong about her bet.

"Lawyers dating lawyers is actually a curse, Kate. So no thank you."

The two looked at each other at your snappy remark before watching you take a few breaths. You walked towards the woman seated alone, you pointed at her half-eaten croissant with a smile.

"Ma'am, is it okay if I take this now?" you asked, trying to sound polite despite your exhaustion.

No response—just the soft flick of a page turning.

"Ma'am," you tried again, "there are a lot of kids dying of hunger, you know?" It was your go-to line—part joke, part guilt trip, and it usually worked like magic. You could even launch into a ten-minute rant about people dying in hunger in Palestine if needed.

Finally, the woman sighed, closing her book with a quiet thud. She looked up at you, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

"I'll just take it out."

You blinked, caught off guard—not by her words, but by the way her voice sounded. It was deep and raspy…tired.

"Okay, doc," you said, seizing Vision's bet, you stare at her long enough as if to wait for her to correct you and voila, she did.

"Uh…I'm not a doctor."

"Oh, so a lawyer?" Pulling out the next alas, leaning your body slightly in the direction of your friends, looking subtly at Kate cheering for her answer.

She shook her head slightly. "No."

You smirked and pulled the final card, which is your card. "A businesswoman then?"

She hesitated, then allowed a small nod. "Something like that."

Triumphant, your smile widened. "Thank you, Miss Businesswoman." You made sure to say it loud enough for your friends to hear before snatching up the croissant and strutting back to them, hand outstretched for your winnings.

They groaned, shoving the bills into your palm.

Wanda isn't interested in knowing people she doesn't need.

And that night? She didn't need you.

Not yet.

Purple Rain: Masterlist

[ilovemarvel97]

Marked By You - Chapter 9

The Red Face Thing

Wanda Maximoff x G!P Wolf Reader

Summary: The forced proximity of a long road trip is finally wearing down the walls between Wanda and Y/N. Trapped in a cramped car with an incredibly perceptive Yelena Belova, the unspoken tension reaches a boiling point.

Words: 13k+

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Soulmate AU, Mentions of Past Hydra Abuse/Experimentation, Reader has a P, mention of smut. 

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

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Yelena’s POV

The road stretched endlessly ahead of them beneath heavy grey clouds that turned the late afternoon dim and cold. Trees blurred past outside the windows in dark smears of green and black, occasionally broken by tiny gas stations or forgotten roadside towns as the car pushed steadily south.

Inside, it was quiet except for the hum of the engine and the faint music drifting from the radio. Yelena drove with one hand resting lazily on the wheel, sunglasses pushed into her hair despite the lack of sunlight. Wanda sat in the passenger seat with one knee slightly pulled up, staring out at the distant hills passing by. In the backseat, Y/N sat sideways behind Wanda, one arm draped across the top of the seat. Her attention seemed split between the scenery outside and Wanda beside her. Even now. Always.

Yelena had noticed it in the rearview mirror probably a hundred times already. How the taller woman acted around Wanda. A faint smirk tugged at Yelena’s mouth before she finally broke the silence.

“Tell me again what happened.”

Wanda blinked and looked over. “The mission?”

“Yes, mission,” Yelena replied dryly.

Y/N snorted softly from the backseat.

Wanda ignored it, shifting slightly before answering. “We were ambushed during a retrieval mission. Hydra knew we were coming.”

Yelena’s amusement faded immediately. “That is bad already.”

Wanda nodded faintly. “There were too many of them. Too organized. They knew exactly how we’d move.” Her jaw tightened slightly at the memory. “It wasn’t random.”

“Someone leaked information,” Yelena said.

“Maybe,” Wanda admitted quietly. “Or they’ve been studying us longer than we thought.”

In the backseat, Y/N’s posture stiffened almost instantly.

Wanda noticed immediately. Her fingers twitched faintly in her lap before she continued. “We escaped. Barely. But during the escape we had to split up.”

“Nat, Steve, and Bucky went one way,” Y/N added quietly. “Me and Wanda went the other.”

Yelena glanced toward the mirror again. “And Natasha told you to run.”

“A week ago,” Wanda said. “She contacted us through an encrypted burner. Told us to stay off-grid, keep moving, change locations constantly, and not go near the compound.”

“Until they figured out what happened,” Yelena murmured.

Wanda nodded. Silence settled inside the car again as light rain began tapping softly against the windows. The windshield wipers swept once across the glass.

“And after that?” Yelena asked.

Wanda’s expression dimmed slightly. “Nothing.”

Yelena’s grip shifted slightly on the steering wheel. That bothered her. Natasha never stayed silent unless she had a reason. Or couldn’t answer. The thought lingered heavily in the car for a few seconds, mixing with the sound of rain against the windows and the steady rumble of tires against wet pavement.

Wanda noticed the slight tension settling into Yelena’s shoulders. “…Where are we going exactly?” she asked quietly.

Yelena blinked once, pulling herself back from the thought. “South coast.”

“That narrows it down so much,” Wanda muttered.

Yelena ignored the sarcasm easily. “There’s a place,” she said after a moment. “Old safehouse Natasha used years ago after Red Room.”

That immediately got Wanda’s attention. “You think she’d go back there?”

“No,” Yelena said simply. “Which is exactly why she might.” A faint smirk tugged at Yelena’s mouth. “Yes.” Yelena adjusted her grip on the wheel before continuing. “It’s near the coast. Small town. Forgettable.” Her expression dimmed slightly. “One of the first places Natasha brought me after we escaped Dreykov.”

Wanda’s gaze softened.

Yelena shrugged one shoulder casually, though there was something quieter beneath it. “She used it sometimes when things became... too loud.”

In the backseat, Y/N listened silently, chin resting against her folded arm near the window while rain streaked across the glass beside her.

The silence thickened again after that. Rain continued tapping softly against the windows while the car pushed farther south through long empty roads. Yelena drove one-handed again, though this time her eyes kept flicking toward the rearview mirror, but because she was studying Y/N now. Curious.

Eventually she spoke again.

“So,” Yelena said casually, “how were you able to smell Natasha on me?”

Wanda glanced over slightly.

In the backseat, Y/N blinked once. “…What?”

“At the alley,” Yelena explained. “You said I smelled like her.”

“Oh.” Y/N shifted slightly. “You do.”

“You can smell family connections?”

“No. I just have a good nose.” Y/N hesitated briefly, like she was trying to explain something obvious to someone who lacked the context for it. “I can turn into a wolf.”

Silence. Yelena stared at the mirror for a full second.

“Wait.” She glanced toward the backseat. “Like actual wolf?”

“Yes.”

“Big wolf?”

“…Yes.”

“How big?”

Y/N paused slightly. “…Big.”

Wanda smiled faintly despite herself.

Yelena barked out a laugh immediately. “That is amazing.”

Y/N relaxed slightly at the reaction. Then Yelena’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she looked at Y/N through the mirror again. “So are you enhanced too?”

Y/N frowned. “What?”

Yelena gestured vaguely toward her. “You are giant. Strong. Dramatic. Broody. I’m trying to determine if you are enhanced or just hot.”

Wanda’s head snapped toward Yelena instantly. A visible frown formed on her face.

Y/N, meanwhile, looked deeply confused again. But answered anyway, “It’s part of the wolf,” she explained quietly. “Strength. Senses. Healing.”

Yelena tilted her head slightly. “And Hydra did this?”

Y/N shook her head. “No.” A small pause. “I was born this way.”

That got Yelena’s full attention immediately. “…Seriously?”

Y/N nodded once.

For a second, Yelena just stared at her in the mirror. Then a grin spread across her face. “That is coolest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Wanda’s frown deepened.

Y/N looked surprised by the enthusiasm. “…Really?”

“Yes,” Yelena said immediately. “You are giant magical wolf woman.”

Another pause.

“Can I see later?”

Wanda turned sharply toward Yelena again.

Y/N blinked once. “…The wolf?”

“Yes, the wolf.”

“…Okay.”

Wanda’s jaw tightened slightly. Yelena caught it immediately finding amusing.

Wanda stared ahead at the road in complete silence now.

Yelena smirked to herself before continuing to poke at Y/N. “Can you understand people while wolf?”

“Yes.”

“Can you talk?”

“No.”

Wanda pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yelena.”

“What?”

“You are interrogating her like she is a zoo exhibit.”

“I am learning,” Yelena corrected.

Y/N tilted her head. “I don’t mind.”

“See?” Yelena pointed triumphantly.

Wanda made a noise of irritation and looked out the side window again.

Yelena was absolutely certain now. The more she complimented Y/N, the grumpier Wanda became. And Y/N was somehow too oblivious to notice any of it. Which only made it funnier.

“This is amazing,” Yelena continued.

Y/N blinked once, slightly unsure how to respond to that level of enthusiasm. “…Okay.”

“No, seriously.” Yelena pointed dramatically toward the backseat. “Do you understand how cool this is? Natasha never told me the Avengers had an actual werewolf.”

“I’m not a werewolf,” Y/N corrected automatically.

Yelena waved a dismissive hand. “Close enough.”

“It’s not.”

“What is difference?”

Y/N frowned slightly, genuinely considering it. “…I’m not cursed.”

Yelena barked out a laugh loud enough to echo through the car. Wanda stayed facing the window. Silent.

“You are funny too,” Yelena informed Y/N.

Y/N looked mildly alarmed by that statement. “I wasn’t joking.”

“That makes it better.”

Another soft laugh escaped Yelena as the car rolled down the road. In the backseat, Y/N relaxed a little more into the seat, one arm resting against the door while she watched the road ahead through the windshield.

Yelena glanced toward the mirror again. “So how does it work?”

Y/N tilted her head slightly. “What does?”

“The wolf thing.”

“Oh…I shift.”

Yelena stared at her reflection for a second. “…You are terrible at explaining things.”

Wanda’s lips twitched faintly despite herself before she forced the expression away again.

Y/N noticed immediately. Her attention shifted toward Wanda for a second longer than necessary, lingering there briefly before returning to Yelena.

“Okay!” Yelena glanced back again. “Do you chase things?”

Y/N looked genuinely confused. “…What things?”

“Cars. Squirrels. Tiny annoying animals. A ball.”

“No,” Y/N said immediately, mildly offended. “I’m not a dog.”

Wanda covered her mouth quickly to hide another laugh as she very briefly—and disastrously—imagined throwing something just to see what Y/N would do.

Y/N looked immediately pleased by the sound. That tiny shift in her expression didn’t escape Yelena either. God, these two were obvious.

“So,” Yelena said casually, still grinning to herself, “if I buy squeaky toy later—”

“No.”

“Very fast answer.”

“Because it’s stupid.”

“You thought about it though.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

Wanda let out another quiet laugh before she could stop herself. Y/N’s attention snapped toward her again immediately, expression softening all over again like flipping a switch.

Wanda looked away toward the window quickly before Y/N could notice the heat returning to her face.

Unfortunately, Yelena noticed both.

The car slowly settled into a quieter rhythm after that. Rain tapped softly against the windows while the highway stretched endlessly ahead of them, illuminated only by distant headlights and occasional road signs flashing past in the dark. Yelena hummed quietly along with the radio. Wanda stayed turned toward the window, though the faint smile never fully disappeared from her mouth. And in the backseat, Y/N relaxed deeper into her corner, calm and content in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. Mostly because Wanda kept laughing.

---

Wanda’s POV

By the time they finally stopped, Wanda felt like her entire body had gone numb from sitting in the car for so many hours. The road had long since emptied into stretches of darkness, civilization thinning until there was barely anything left except trees, old gas stations, and occasional flickering signs glowing weakly in the distance.

When the motel finally appeared, it looked like something pulled straight out of a horror movie. A buzzing neon VACANCY sign flickered unevenly near the road. Half the letters were dead. Wanda stared at it through the windshield. “…Absolutely not.”

Yelena parked anyway. “Perfect hiding place,” she declared.

“It looks like we’re about to get murdered.”

“Exactly. Nobody searches for someone in murder motel.”

That was... annoyingly logical.

The gravel crunched beneath the tires as they pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. The motel itself was old and weatherworn, paint peeling along the doors and railings. A single dim light buzzed outside the office. Wanda climbed out of the car slowly, stretching her arms above her head with a quiet groan. Cold air hit immediately. Before she could even react properly, warmth settled at her back.

Y/N.

She had moved beside Wanda almost instantly after getting out, standing close enough that their shoulders brushed lightly while golden eyes scanned the parking lot carefully. Wanda tried very hard not to notice how automatic it had become.

Yelena absolutely noticed. Again. The blonde grabbed the car keys and headed toward the office with an amused little hum under her breath. “I’ll get the rooms,” she announced.

Wanda watched her disappear inside before exhaling quietly. Beside her, Y/N tilted her head slightly. “Tired?”

Wanda glanced up at her. Even exhausted, Y/N still looked unfairly good. Which was a problem Wanda was aggressively not thinking about.

“A little,” Wanda admitted.

Y/N nodded once, gaze flicking briefly toward the dark edges of the parking lot again before settling back on Wanda.

“You should sleep.”

Something about the simple certainty in her voice made warmth spread through Wanda’s chest again. Dangerous. Very dangerous.

A few minutes later, the office door opened again. Yelena stepped back outside, twirling two keycards between her fingers. “One room for me,” she said casually. Then tossed the second card directly at Y/N. “One room for the couple.”

Wanda nearly inhaled her own soul. “We are not a couple!”

Yelena raised one eyebrow slowly, visibly amused. “…Okay.”

The way she said it somehow made it infinitely worse.

Wanda’s face burned hotter instantly. “We’re not!”

“Mhm.” Yelena smirked faintly before turning away, already walking toward her room with her duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

“Goodnight, married people.”

“Yelena!”

The blonde only waved dismissively without looking back.

Wanda stood frozen in the middle of the parking lot for a full second, absolutely mortified before she grabbed her own bag quickly. “Come on.”

The motel walkway creaked softly beneath their footsteps as they crossed the parking lot. The farther they moved from the office lights, the darker everything became, shadows stretching long between the doors. Y/N walked slightly behind Wanda this time, close enough that Wanda could feel her presence without looking.

It made her chest ache in that confusing, dangerous way again.

Wanda unlocked the door quickly and pushed it open. The room was exactly what she expected.  Old and small with a single buzzing lamp cast soft yellow light over faded floral wallpaper and worn carpet that had definitely seen better decades. There were two bedside tables, a tiny bathroom tucked near the back, an old TV mounted crookedly on the wall—and one bed.

Wanda stopped walking and slowly, she turned toward Y/N.

Y/N blinked once. “…What?”

“There’s one bed.”

Y/N looked at the bed. Then back at Wanda. “…Okay?”

Right. Of course that wouldn’t bother her. They’ve been sleeping on the same bed this whole time.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “We’ve shared beds before.”

Y/N nodded immediately. “Yeah.”

Because for Y/N, this really was normal. Wanda hated how much that calmed her.

Y/N quietly locked the door behind them before setting her bag down near the wall. The room immediately felt smaller afterward. Quieter.

Wanda busied herself taking off her jacket, avoiding eye contact completely. But unfortunately, Y/N noticed her mood almost instantly. “…Wanda?”

“I’m fine.” The answer came sharper than intended.

Y/N went still for a second.

Wanda immediately regretted it. She rubbed a hand over her face tiredly. “Sorry. I just—”

Before she could finish, warmth suddenly wrapped around her making her freeze. Y/N had stepped closer without a sound and pulled her gently into a hug. Not tight. Not restraining. Just there. Warm arms around her shoulders. Y/N chest against hers. Steady heartbeat beneath her ear.

“I don’t want to fight,” Y/N murmured quietly.

Wanda’s breath caught.

Y/N held her carefully, like she was afraid Wanda might pull away if she moved too suddenly.

“I just want to know if you’re okay.”

The honesty in her voice shattered something soft inside Wanda immediately. Because there was no accusation there. No frustration. No confusion. Just concern.

Wanda felt herself melt against her before she could stop it. Her forehead slowly dropped against Y/N’s shoulder as tension drained out of her body all at once.

“I know,” she whispered tiredly.

Y/N’s arms tightened slightly around her at the sound. Warm and safe.

Wanda closed her eyes.

God.

This was becoming a serious problem.

---

Wanda stayed there longer than she meant to, pressed against Y/N’s chest while the motel room hummed quietly around them, the old air conditioner rattling softly somewhere near the window.

Y/N didn’t rush her. Didn’t ask questions. Didn’t push. She just held her. One hand rested carefully between Wanda’s shoulder blades while the other stayed warm against her waist, grounding and steady in that effortless way only Y/N seemed capable of.

Wanda hated how much she needed it.

After a long moment, Y/N spoke quietly. “Did I do something wrong?”

The question was so soft, so genuinely worried, that Wanda’s chest tightened painfully. She pulled back just enough to look up at her.

Y/N’s expression was open, uncertain now in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. Like Wanda’s reactions mattered more than her own comfort.

“No,” Wanda said immediately. “No, you didn’t.”

Y/N studied her face carefully, searching for any sign she was lying. “…Then why are you upset?”

Because you smile every time I laugh. Because you look at me like I’m something precious. Because I can’t breathe when you touch me anymore. Wanda swallowed hard. “I’m just tired,” she said instead.

Y/N kept looking at her for another second, then slowly nodded. “…Okay.”

She believed her enough not to push further. That somehow made Wanda feel even worse.

Y/N finally loosened her hold, though one hand lingered lightly against Wanda’s waist for a second longer before falling away completely. The loss of warmth was immediate.

Wanda tried very hard not to notice.

Y/N stepped back and glanced around the room before wrinkling her nose slightly. “This place smells weird.”

The abrupt change nearly made Wanda laugh.

“It’s a motel.”

“It smells like cigarettes and sadness.”

A startled laugh escaped Wanda before she could stop it. Y/N’s entire expression softened instantly at the sound again.

There it is. That look. Wanda felt heat crawl back into her face immediately. Wanda turned away quickly before Y/N could notice her spiraling again and dropped her bag near the bed. Behind her, she heard Y/N moving quietly around the room, checking windows and locks automatically out of habit. The familiar sounds settled something anxious in Wanda’s chest.

A few minutes later, Wanda sat near the edge of the bed while Y/N disappeared briefly into the bathroom to wash up. The second the door closed, Wanda dropped her face into her hands with a groan.

“This is bad,” she whispered to herself. Very bad. Because now every little thing affected her. The hugs, the smiles, the protective instincts, the way Y/N looked happier whenever Wanda laughed. And the worst part?

Wanda liked it. A lot.

The bathroom door opened again. Wanda looked up automatically—and immediately regretted having eyes. Y/N stepped back into the room wearing loose grey sweatpants and a black sports bra, hair still damp from washing it quickly in the sink.

Wanda forgot how breathing worked. Again.

Y/N glanced at her immediately. “…What?”

“Nothing.” That answer came way too fast.

Y/N stared at her for a second. Then, to Wanda’s absolute horror, a small smirk appeared.

“Why is your face red?”

Wanda nearly choked. “It’s not.”

“It is.”

“It’s warm in here.”

Y/N glanced around the room. The ancient air conditioner rattled loudly from the window. “…No, it isn’t.”

Wanda hated everything.

Y/N took another step closer, still looking genuinely curious despite the faint amusement lingering on her face.

“You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“The red face thing.”

Wanda grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at her. But Y/N caught it automatically. And the smirk got slightly bigger.

Wanda wanted the floor to open and swallow her whole. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you know something.”

Y/N frowned slightly, clearly trying to understand what Wanda meant. Then, instead of backing off, she stepped closer.

Wanda immediately regretted saying anything.

“Why?” Y/N asked.

Wanda opened her mouth but nothing came out.

Y/N tilted her head. “Am I the one making you blush?”

The question hit Wanda like a freight train. Her entire brain stopped functioning. For one horrifying second, neither of them spoke. Y/N watched her carefully. Wanda stared back completely frozen. Y/N kept watching her, golden eyes focused entirely on her face. There was no teasing there. No smugness. Just curiosity. Which somehow made it ten times worse.

Slowly, Y/N reached out and took Wanda's hand.

Wanda's breath caught. “Y/N—”

“You keep doing it.”

“What?”

Y/N shifted a little closer. Far too close. Wanda could feel the warmth radiating from her.

“Your heartbeat.” Y/N's brow furrowed thoughtfully. “It keeps getting faster whenever I'm around.”

Wanda's entire body locked up.

Y/N tilted her head. “Is it?” The question came out quiet. And somehow that was the problem. Because Y/N wasn't trying to corner her. She actually wanted to understand.

“You blush when I get close,” Y/N continued carefully. “And when I touch you.”

Another inch closer.

“Your heartbeat gets faster.”

“Y/N.”

“And when I hug you—”

“Y/N.”

“Is it because—”

“Stop.”

The word came out sharper than Wanda intended.

Y/N immediately fell silent.

Wanda hated the flash of uncertainty that crossed her face. This was exactly why she couldn't do this. Because one more second and she was going to say something she couldn't take back. Something that would change everything.

Wanda pulled her hand free and stood abruptly. “I need a shower.”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“A shower.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

Y/N glanced toward the bathroom. Then back at Wanda. Still confused.

“Did I say something wrong?”

The guilt hit instantly.

“No.”

“You seem upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“You pushed me.”

Wanda groaned and scrubbed both hands down her face. “I just need five minutes, okay?”

Y/N studied her for a moment.

Then nodded slowly. “…Okay.”

The disappointment she tried to hide made Wanda feel even worse. Without trusting herself to say anything else, Wanda grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom. The door shut behind her. The lock clicked.

For a long moment, Wanda simply stood there staring at her reflection in the mirror. Then she dropped her forehead against it.

“Oh, this is a disaster.”

---

Y/N’s POV

The bathroom door clicked shut.

Y/N remained exactly where she was on the edge of the bed, staring at it. Very confused. A few minutes ago she had been certain she was finally understanding what was happening. Wanda’s heartbeat accelerated whenever Y/N got close. She blushed, she looked away and she got nervous when Y/N touched her.

Those signs seemed obvious. At least, they did to Y/N.

So why did Wanda keep denying it? It didn’t make sense.

Because Wanda was her imprint. The certainty of that sat deep inside her bones. Unshakable. The moment Y/N had seen Wanda for the first time, something had changed. Every instinct she possessed had immediately recognized her.

Protect. Stay close. Keep safe. Make her happy.

It wasn’t something Y/N had chosen. It simply was. As natural as breathing. As natural as her heartbeat. Which was why Wanda’s reactions confused her so much.

Y/N wasn’t afraid.

Why would she be?

Wanda was Wanda. Her imprint. The person her instincts trusted more than anyone else in the world. Even now, with a locked bathroom door between them, Y/N could hear Wanda moving around inside. Running water. Soft footsteps. Safe.

The knowledge settled her immediately. So why wasn’t Wanda settling too?

Y/N rubbed the back of her neck.

Maybe other people were just complicated. That seemed increasingly likely. She thought back to the car ride. The way Wanda smiled when Yelena was being ridiculous. The way her face turned red. The way she’d melted into Y/N’s arms earlier. And then five minutes later acted like Y/N had asked her to dismantle a bomb with her teeth.

None of it made sense. Y/N’s frown deepened. Maybe Wanda was afraid Y/N didn’t feel the same way. The thought made her sit up straighter.

Was that it?

Normal people needed things said out loud sometimes. Maybe Wanda couldn’t feel what Y/N felt. Maybe she didn’t understand.

Y/N stared at the bathroom door.

Of course she didn’t understand. She didn’t even know what imprinting was.

The realization hit all at once.

Y/N had spent so much time assuming Wanda knew. Assuming she could somehow see it.

But Wanda wasn’t a wolf.

She had no reason to know why Y/N always ended up beside her. Why Y/N watched every room for threats. Why her attention always drifted back to Wanda no matter what else was happening. Why hearing Wanda laugh felt better than winning a fight.

Y/N exhaled slowly.

Maybe Wanda thought those things were choices. Not instincts. Not something woven into the very core of Y/N’s existence.

The thought made her chest ache unexpectedly. Because if Wanda didn’t know…

Then from her perspective, Y/N probably looked insane. 

Y/N frowned, then sighed.

Humans were confusing. Wanda was confusing. And somehow she was still the easiest person in the world to be around.

---

Wanda’s POV

The next morning, they were back on the road before sunrise.

Wanda had barely slept. Not because of the motel. Not because of the old mattress or the rattling air conditioner.

Because of Y/N.

After escaping into the shower the night before, Wanda had spent nearly twenty minutes standing under lukewarm water trying to get her thoughts under control. By the time she finally came back out, Y/N had been sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her.

Wanda had immediately announced she was tired before Y/N could continue whatever conversation they'd almost had earlier. Y/N had looked like she wanted to ask something, but after a second she'd simply nodded and said okay.

Then they'd gone to bed.

One bed. One very small bed.

Wanda was refusing to think about that too.

The motel coffee had been terrible, Yelena had insulted the complimentary waffles for five straight minutes, and somehow Y/N had still eaten four of them.

Now the three of them were driving farther south beneath a cloudy grey sky. This time, Y/N was driving. Wanda was absolutely not thinking about that. Not thinking about the way Y/N's hands looked on the steering wheel. Or the way she drove—steady, calm, one arm resting loosely near the window while the other guided the car effortlessly down the empty road. Wanda sat in the backseat behind her, staring out the window while trying very hard not to focus on the sound of Y/N laughing. Again.

For the past few hours, Yelena and Y/N had been talking almost nonstop. At first it had been practical things—roads, Natasha, safehouses, possible routes. Then somewhere along the way it had devolved into complete nonsense. And Y/N was participating.

Willingly.

Wanda still didn't understand how Yelena had managed this so fast.

When Y/N first joined the Avengers, it had taken months before she willingly joined conversations with the others. Even longer before she started joking back.

But now?

Yelena said one ridiculous thing and suddenly Y/N was relaxed enough to laugh every five minutes.

It was ridiculous.

“See?” Yelena said from the passenger seat, gesturing dramatically with half a granola bar. “This is why I don't trust goats.”

Y/N glanced at her briefly.

“…Goats?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“They look like they know secrets.”

A quiet snort escaped Y/N before she could stop it. Wanda stared at the back of her head in betrayal.

“That’s not a reason,” Y/N said, still amused.

“It is absolutely a reason. I saw one stare at me for twenty straight seconds once.”

“Maybe it didn't like you.”

“Exactly. Suspicious.”

Y/N laughed again. Wanda frowned harder at the passing scenery outside. How was this happening?

Yelena leaned back smugly in her seat.

“You laugh because you know I’m right.”

“I laugh because you sound insane.”

“Thank you.”

“That was not a compliment.”

“In my culture, it is.”

Y/N shook her head slightly, smiling to herself as she focused back on the road.

Wanda crossed her arms tighter. This was really ridiculous. She should've been happy Y/N was comfortable.

And she was. Mostly.

So why did something unpleasant twist in her chest every time Yelena made her laugh?

Wanda frowned deeper.

No. She was not jealous. Yelena was just... easy to talk to. Loud, blunt and strange. And Y/N responded well to that apparently.

---

A few hours later, they stopped at a gas station somewhere in the middle of nowhere. The place looked old and tired, tucked beside a long empty road with faded signs and only two working pumps. A tiny convenience store buzzed beneath fluorescent lights while bugs repeatedly sacrificed themselves against the windows.

Y/N had gone inside a few minutes ago after muttering something about needing the bathroom and “more snacks.”

Which really meant: Many snacks.

Wanda stayed leaning against the side of the car while Yelena finished pumping gas. The air was cooler now, carrying the smell of asphalt and distant rain.

For a minute, neither of them spoke. Until Yelena starts—“So,” Yelena said casually, screwing the gas cap back on.

Wanda immediately narrowed her eyes. That tone never meant anything good.

“What.”

Yelena leaned against the pump. “What exactly is your deal with giant wolf woman?”

Wanda nearly choked on air. “What?”

“I ask simple question.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Yelena looked deeply unconvinced.

“You sleep together.”

“We do not—”

“You literally share a bed every night.”

“Because we’re hiding!”

“Mhm.”

“And there’s usually only one bed!”

“Convenient.”

Wanda glared at her immediately. “Nothing is happening.”

Yelena hummed. “Okay. Then explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain!”

“So you are really not a couple?”

“We’re not,” Wanda said quickly.

“Very convincing.”

“We’re just—” Wanda stopped. What were they?

Yelena noticed instantly. “Oh my god.”

“Stop.”

“You don't even know.”

Wanda hated that she was right.

Yelena folded her arms. “You hold hands. You sleep together. She watches you like emotionally damaged guard dog.”

“She does not.”

“She absolutely does.”

Wanda looked away. Because the worst part? A small, traitorous part of her knew Yelena was right.

Yelena stepped closer, lowering her voice. “She looks at you like you hung moon.”

Wanda's face heated instantly. “That’s not true.”

Yelena stared at her flatly. “You know I was trained from childhood to read people, yes?”

“…Unfortunately.”

“And you”—Yelena pointed directly at her—“look at her like you want climb her like tree.”

Wanda nearly died. “Oh my god!”

Yelena burst out laughing. “You should see your face!”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t care.”

Wanda dragged both hands down her burning face miserably. This was horrible. Because now that Yelena had said it out loud, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

The touching. The closeness. The way Y/N smiled every time Wanda laughed. The way she always seemed happiest when Wanda was happy. The way Wanda immediately relaxed whenever Y/N touched her. And worse—how much she wanted it.

Yelena's amusement faded slightly.

“So why are you fighting it?”

Wanda blinked. “…What?”

“You are very obvious,” Yelena said more gently. “Both of you.”

Wanda swallowed hard. “It’s complicated.”

Yelena snorted. “No. It is actually extremely uncomplicated. You like giant wolf girl. Giant wolf girl likes you.”

If only it were that simple. Wanda thought about the motel room. About Y/N asking if she was the reason Wanda blushed. About those golden eyes looking at her with absolute sincerity while trying to understand. About how confused Y/N had seemed when Wanda ran away to the shower.

Wanda looked away. “It’s not that simple.”

“Is because of robot guy?”

Wanda's head snapped toward her. “How do you know about him?”

Yelena looked completely unbothered. “Giant wolf woman told me.”

Wanda blinked. “…What?”

“The motel.”

Yelena shrugged.

“You went to the bathroom this morning. I asked her the same question I am asking you now.”

A feeling of absolute dread settled over Wanda immediately. “You asked Y/N if she liked me?”

“Obviously.”

“And?”

Yelena stared at her. “Wanda.”

“What did she say?”

“She spent ten minutes looking confused that it was apparently not obvious.”

Wanda felt her face heating already. “Oh my god.”

“She talked about you the entire time.”

That did absolutely nothing to help.

“What exactly did she say?”

Yelena thought for a second.

“Mostly things that sounded concerning.”

“That is not an answer.”

“She said she likes being around you. That you make her happy. That she feels calmer when you are nearby. That she worries when you are upset.” Yelena paused. “And then she looked at me like I was stupid for asking.”

Wanda suddenly found the cracked pavement very interesting. “Right.”

Yelena watched her for a moment.

“She also asked why you seemed afraid.”

That hit harder than it should have.

Wanda looked away again. “She doesn't understand.”

“No,” Yelena agreed. “She really doesn't.”

Because how could she? Y/N didn't know about the guilt.

About Vision.

About the part of Wanda that still felt responsible for everything that had happened. That it hasn’t been long since the break up. The thought twisted sharply in her chest.

“…Partly,” Wanda admitted quietly.

Yelena leaned back against the car, some of the teasing fading from her expression. “You know Natasha told me once that love is not always dramatic thing.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes it is just a person who feels like home.”

Wanda's chest tightened painfully. Because that was exactly the problem. Before she could answer, the convenience store door opened.

Y/N stepped back outside carrying two bags absolutely stuffed with snacks. She paused immediately after seeing their expressions.

“…What happened?”

Wanda straightened so fast she almost injured herself. “Nothing.”

Yelena grinned. “Wanda was just telling me how much she enjoys your company.”

Wanda made a horrified sound.

Y/N blinked once. Then—very softly—she smiled.

Wanda’s face burned instantly. “Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath.

Y/N blinked once, still holding the overloaded snack bags in both hands. “…What?”

“Nothing,” Wanda said quickly. Far too quickly.

Yelena’s smirk widened. Wanda refused to look at either of them. She immediately turned and walked toward the car before this conversation could somehow become even worse.

Behind her, she heard Y/N following automatically. Wanda climbed into the backseat without a word, pretending to be deeply interested in literally anything outside the window.

A second later, the back door beside her opened. Wanda looked over automatically—and found Y/N holding out a candy bar.

“…I got you this.”

Wanda blinked.

“What?”

“You liked it yesterday.”

“…Thanks,” she murmured softly, taking it from her.

Y/N nodded once, visibly pleased by her reaction before closing the door and heading back toward the driver’s seat. From the front passenger side, Yelena watched the entire interaction with the expression of someone having every suspicion confirmed in real time.

Neither of them noticed.

A few minutes later, the car pulled back onto the empty highway. The sky had darkened further while they stopped, low clouds hanging overhead as distant thunder rumbled somewhere far away. Inside the car, the atmosphere felt different now. Softer.

Wanda unwrapped the candy bar quietly while trying very hard not to think about the fact that Y/N had remembered her favorite snack after a single offhand comment the day before. Or the fact that, according to Yelena, she'd apparently spent the morning talking about Wanda.

That thought refused to leave.

In the front seat, Y/N drove with one hand resting loosely on the wheel while the other occasionally disappeared into one of the snack bags. Every few minutes, her eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror automatically. Toward Wanda.

Every single time their eyes met, Y/N smiled a little without seeming aware of it. And every single time—Wanda’s stomach flipped embarrassingly hard.

Beside her, Yelena looked out the window to hide another smirk.

---

Nobody’s POV

They reached another motel long after dark. This one was somehow worse than the last.

The neon sign buzzed loudly overhead, missing half its letters, and the entire parking lot smelled faintly like gasoline and old cigarettes. A trucker smoked near one of the vending machines while static crackled from a tiny radio somewhere nearby.

Y/N parked the car and immediately started scanning the area automatically. Four occupied rooms. Two people near the ice machine. No immediate threats. Safe enough.

Beside her, Yelena stretched with a groan.

“If I die in sleep tonight because of cursed motel ghost, I blame both of you.”

“You’d fight the ghost,” Wanda muttered tiredly as she climbed out.

“Obviously.”

Y/N grabbed their bags from the trunk while Yelena headed toward the office to get rooms.

A few minutes later, she returned twirling keycards between her fingers. “One for me,” she announced. “One for emotionally repressed couple.”

Wanda immediately groaned.

Yelena smirked and handed Y/N the second keycard before disappearing toward her room.

Y/N barely paid attention to the teasing this time. Mostly because she was tired. Partly because Yelena had spent the entire day making comments like that. She adjusted the bags over her shoulder and followed Wanda across the parking lot toward the far end of the motel.

The night air was cold enough that Wanda folded her arms tightly across herself almost immediately. Without thinking, Y/N moved a little closer. Then—

“Actually...”

Y/N looked down immediately at the sound of Wanda's voice.

Wanda wouldn't meet her eyes. “You should sleep with Yelena tonight.”

Y/N stopped walking. “…What?”

“You can stay in her room.”

Confusion hit instantly. “Why?”

“It just makes more sense.”

“It doesn't.”

Wanda exhaled sharply, already sounding frustrated. “Y/N—”

“No.” Y/N frowned slightly, genuinely confused now. “I want to stay with you.” The words came out before she even thought about them.

Simple.

Obvious.

True.

Wanda's face immediately turned red. Again.

Y/N stared. There it was. The thing she'd been trying to understand since the motel the night before.

“That’s not the point,” Wanda muttered.

“Then what is the point?”

Wanda looked away.

Y/N stood there holding both their bags while trying to understand why Wanda suddenly seemed upset again. Just a few hours ago things had been fine. Wanda had laughed. They talked. Y/N bought her favorite candy bar. And Wanda had smiled. Everything had felt normal.

Now it felt like she'd somehow missed an important conversation.

Again.

A thought occurred to her. “…Is this because of yesterday?”

Wanda froze.

Y/N immediately knew she was right. “The bathroom thing?”

“Y/N.”

“I wasn't trying to upset you.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

Wanda closed her eyes briefly.

Y/N's confusion only grew. Because she wasn't avoiding Wanda. She wanted to be around Wanda. Always.

That was the problem. At least, it seemed to be the problem from Wanda's perspective. And Y/N still had absolutely no idea why.

Now suddenly Wanda was pulling away again. It made something uncomfortable twist in Y/N's chest.

Wanda rubbed a hand over her face tiredly. “I just want some privacy...”

The words hit harder than they probably should have. Y/N went quiet immediately.

Oh.

For a second, she just stood there beneath the dim motel lights, trying to understand why her chest suddenly felt tight. Then she remembered what Yelena had told her earlier.

Humans needed space sometimes. Especially when they were confused. And Wanda was definitely confused.

Y/N looked down briefly before nodding once. “…Okay.” Her voice came out quieter than before. She shifted the bags in her hands and stepped forward, handing Wanda hers.

Their fingers brushed. Usually Wanda unconsciously leaned toward contact. This time she pulled her hand back first.

Y/N immediately noticed. Something in her chest sank.

“…Goodnight,” she said softly.

Then she turned before she could ask another question she wouldn't get an answer to.

Wanda watched her walk away toward Yelena's room, shoulders slightly tense, steps quieter than usual.

And for the first time since they'd met—Y/N didn't look back. The realization hit Wanda immediately. A sharp ache spread through her chest as she stood alone outside her room. That wasn't what she wanted. Not even close. The motel suddenly felt colder.

Wanda looked toward Yelena's door just as it opened.

Yelena stepped out, took one look at Y/N, then looked across the parking lot toward Wanda. The assessment took less than two seconds. Y/N's expression.

Wanda standing alone. The distance between them. Understanding flashed across Yelena's face immediately. Her amusement disappeared.

“…What happened?”

Y/N shook her head once. “Wanda wants privacy.”

Yelena glanced at Y/N. Then at Wanda. Then back again.

“Come on.”

Y/N hesitated for one last second. Not looking at Wanda. Not checking if she was following. Then she stepped inside.

The door clicked shut behind them. Leaving Wanda alone beneath the flickering motel light while guilt settled heavily in her chest. Because somehow, in trying to create distance, she'd managed to hurt the one person she least wanted to hurt.

---

Y/N’s POV

Yelena’s motel room looked almost identical to other motels. Same dim yellow lighting.

Y/N stood near the door for a moment after stepping inside, one hand still loosely holding her bag while Yelena quietly locked the door behind them.

The silence stretched. Usually silence around Wanda felt easy. This one didn’t.

Yelena noticed immediately.

“…You look like someone’s kicked puppy.”

Y/N frowned slightly. “Nobody kicked me.”

“Mhm.” Yelena tossed her jacket onto the second bed before sitting down cross-legged against the headboard. She watched Y/N carefully for another second.

“You are upset.”

Y/N shook her head automatically. “…No.”

“Very convincing.”

Y/N stayed quiet. Because she didn’t really understand what she was feeling. Her chest just hurt. A little, not physically. Something tighter than that.

Yelena’s expression softened slightly. “She didn’t mean it badly.”

Y/N nodded. “I know.”

And she did know. Wanda wasn’t cruel. Never cruel.

But—

Y/N sat slowly on the edge of the second bed, shoulders lowering as exhaustion finally started catching up to her. “She wanted space,” she murmured quietly, more to herself than Yelena.

Yelena hummed.

“And you do not like space.”

Y/N immediately shook her head. “It’s not like that.”

Yelena raised one eyebrow. “No?”

Y/N frowned, trying to explain the uncomfortable feeling twisting inside her chest. “I just...” She hesitated. “I like knowing she’s okay.”

That part was true.

If Wanda was nearby, Y/N could relax. Sleep deeper, breathe easier. Distance felt wrong in a way she couldn't fully explain to people who weren't like her. Or people who didn't know what an imprint was.

Yelena watched her quietly. “You are aware normal people do not look physically distressed because they sleep in different room for one night?”

Y/N blinked. “…Oh.”

“Mm.”

Y/N looked down again. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”

Yelena’s expression softened further. “You didn’t.”

“But she wanted space.”

“Yes.”

Y/N's chest tightened again. Because Wanda had never asked for distance before.

Not really.

Even during the strange, confusing moments lately, Wanda still stayed close. Still leaned against her when tired. Still reached for her without thinking.

Tonight felt different.

Y/N rubbed her thumb absently against the edge of her sleeve. “She sounded...” Her voice lowered. “…frustrated.”

Yelena sighed and leaned back against the headboard. “She is frustrated.”

Y/N immediately looked up. “With me?”

“No.”

The answer came so fast that Y/N blinked. “Then with what?”

Yelena stared at her. For a long moment. Then groaned, “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“You genuinely have no idea.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“I know.”Yelena pointed at her. “That is the problem.”

Y/N frowned deeper.

Yelena dropped her hand over her face dramatically. “Natasha is never going to believe this.”

“Believe what?”

“That two smartest people I know are somehow both idiots.”

Y/N looked mildly offended. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Debatable.”

Y/N stared at her. Completely lost.

Yelena stared back. Completely exhausted. After several seconds, Yelena sighed heavily. “She is not frustrated with you.”

“Then why does she keep running away?”

The question slipped out before Y/N could stop it.

Yelena's expression softened immediately. Because there it was. The real problem.

Y/N looked away. “She keeps getting close.”

Closer. Laughing. Smiling. Leaning against her. Looking at her like she wanted to say something. Then the moment Y/N tried to understand, Wanda would panic and retreat. The pattern was becoming impossible to ignore.

Yelena was quiet for a moment.

“Have you considered she might be scared?”

Y/N frowned. “Of me?”

“No.” Yelena pointed at her again. “Of this.”

Y/N blinked. “This what?”

Yelena dropped backward onto the mattress with a groan. “Unbelievable.”

Y/N remained exactly as confused as before. Which somehow made Yelena groan even louder.

“With herself.”

That confused Y/N even more.

“…How?”

Yelena stared at her for a long moment. “See, this is why I asked if you liked her yesterday.”

Y/N frowned. “I do like her.”

“Yes, I know.”

“No, I mean I like her.”

Yelena pointed at her. “That. That right there.”

Y/N looked even more confused. “What?”

“You say it like it is obvious.”

“It is obvious.”

“To you.”

Y/N hesitated. Then slowly sat back against the edge of the bed. “Maybe because she’s my imprint.”

The room went silent. Yelena blinked. “…Your what?”

“My imprint.”

“What is imprint?”

Y/N frowned slightly, surprised she didn't know. “It’s a wolf thing.”

That explained absolutely nothing. Yelena waited.

Y/N seemed to realize that. “Oh.”

A pause. Then she tried again.

“When wolves find their person.”

Yelena immediately sat up straighter.

“Their person?”

Y/N nodded.

“The one they're meant to protect. Stay with. Take care of.”

Yelena stared. “Oh my god.”

Y/N tilted her head. “What?”

“You never told me that part.”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Nothing about this is obvious.”

Y/N frowned again. “But Wanda is my imprint.”

Yelena pointed both hands at her.

“Does Wanda know this?”

“No.”

“Have you told her?”

“No.”

“Then how is it obvious?”

Y/N opened her mouth. Paused. Then slowly closed it again. For the first time, she looked uncertain. “…Oh.”

“Exactly.” Yelena dropped back against the headboard. “From Wanda's perspective, you are just showing up everywhere and looking at her like she invented happiness.”

Y/N looked down. That explained a few things.

After another moment, Y/N quietly stood and gathered her clothes. She paused near the bathroom door.

“…Do you think Wanda’s upset with me?”

The uncertainty in her voice softened Yelena’s expression immediately. “No,” she answered honestly. “I think Wanda is trying very hard not to be upset with herself.”

Y/N absorbed that silently before heading to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, the sound of running water filled the small motel room.

Yelena leaned back against the headboard with a long sigh and stared at the ceiling.

“This is painful,” she muttered to herself.

Because somehow these two idiots had managed to fall catastrophically for each other while operating with completely different instruction manuals. It was honestly impressive.

---

Wanda’s POV

The room felt wrong without Y/N in it. Wanda realized that approximately three minutes after closing the door. Which was completely ridiculous. She sat on the edge of the motel bed, still fully dressed, staring at the muted TV while silence pressed heavily around her.

The room suddenly felt colder than it had before. Wanda rubbed both hands over her face with a frustrated groan before falling backward onto the mattress. “This is stupid.”

Because this was what she wanted, wasn't it? Space. Distance. A chance to breathe. So why did her chest ache now that she had it?

Wanda stared at the ceiling while Yelena's words replayed mercilessly in her head.

You like giant wolf girl.

God.

The worst part? Yelena wasn't wrong. Wanda turned onto her side with another frustrated sound, burying half her face in the pillow. Everything had become too much too fast. The touching, the closeness, the way Y/N always noticed her first, the way she smiled every single time Wanda laughed, and now there was something else she couldn't stop thinking about.

The conversation Yelena had told her about.

The fact that Y/N had apparently spent a long time that morning talking about Wanda. The fact that she'd been confused when Yelena asked if she liked her. Like the answer was obvious. Because to Y/N, apparently, it was.

Wanda groaned into the pillow. Because once she admitted that to herself, everything else became harder to ignore too. The jealousy. The way seeing Y/N with Yelena all day had made something ugly twist in her stomach.

The realization made Wanda sit upright immediately.

“Nope.” Absolutely not. She stood and started pacing the tiny motel room instead. Because this was dangerous territory.

Vision had barely been out of her life for a month. And now Wanda was spiraling because a giant wolf woman smiled at her too sweetly?

It made her feel guilty. Confused. Excited. All at once.

Wanda stopped pacing near the window, arms folded tightly across herself. Outside, rain had started again, droplets tapping softly against the glass beneath the flickering motel lights. Her eyes drifted automatically toward the neighboring room.

The ache in her chest returned immediately. Because now all Wanda could picture was Y/N's face after she'd asked for space. That tiny shift in her expression.

The way she'd gone quiet, the way she'd said goodnight, the way she hadn't looked back. That part hurt most. Y/N always looked back. Always checked. Always made sure Wanda was there. Tonight she hadn't.

Wanda pressed a hand against her forehead. Maybe she'd been too harsh.

No. Not harsh. Just—panicked. That was the problem. Because every time Y/N got close, Wanda felt herself wanting things she wasn't ready to want. And every time Y/N pulled away, it felt worse. A miserable realization settled over her.

She missed her. She'd sent Y/N away less than twenty minutes ago. And she already missed her.

“This is insane,” Wanda muttered to herself.

Finally, with a frustrated sigh, she grabbed her clothes and headed toward the bathroom before she could think herself into another crisis. 

---

Y/N’s POV

Something woke her up. Y/N’s eyes snapped open instantly. For a second, she stayed completely still on the motel bed, listening. The room was dark except for faint moonlight leaking through the curtains. Across from her, Yelena was asleep sprawled diagonally across the mattress with one arm hanging dramatically toward the floor.

The motel itself was quiet. No footsteps outside. No strange engines. No weapons clicking into place. Nothing dangerous. And yet—something felt wrong.

Y/N sat up slowly, frowning. Her chest felt tight. Restless. Like an instinct tugging somewhere deep inside her. Across the room, Yelena shifted slightly in her sleep but didn't wake. Y/N looked toward the wall separating this room from Wanda's. Her heartbeat. Still there. But the uneasy feeling didn't leave.

Y/N quietly swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. The floor creaked softly beneath her bare feet as she crossed the room and pulled on her hoodie.

A few hours ago she'd told herself she would give Wanda space. That she'd stop pushing. Stop making things harder. But now she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Not danger. Something else. Something she couldn't explain.

Cold night air wrapped around her the moment she stepped outside. The parking lot sat silent beneath flickering neon lights while distant thunder rolled somewhere far away. Y/N's eyes drifted automatically toward Wanda’s room. Her chest tightened immediately. Before she could stop herself, her feet were already moving. She crossed the parking lot and stopped outside the door.

Silence.

Y/N stared at it. Wanda wanted privacy. The reminder sat heavily in her stomach. She shouldn't bother her. Especially not after tonight. Y/N rubbed the back of her neck and paced once in front of the room. Maybe Wanda was sleeping. Maybe she was finally getting the space she'd asked for. Maybe she was happier without Y/N hovering nearby every five minutes.

The thought hurt more than it should have.

Y/N stopped again. Her instincts screamed at her to check. Just once. Just make sure Wanda was okay. She lifted her hand toward the door—Then froze.

Because what if Wanda opened it and looked disappointed to see her? The thought made her immediately lower her hand.

No. Don't push. She stepped back.

Paced once more. The feeling refused to leave. Y/N glanced around the empty parking lot before exhaling quietly through her nose. Then an idea occurred to her. A familiar one. Something she'd done dozens of times before. Back at the compound. When Wanda couldn't sleep. When nightmares woke her up. When neither of them wanted to talk.

Decision settling into place, Y/N stepped into the shadows beside the railing. Bones shifted beneath skin, and a second later, a massive wolf stood where she'd been. Golden eyes catching the faint motel lights. The wolf padded quietly back toward Wanda's door. This felt different. Safer. Not pushing. Not asking questions.

The wolf lifted one massive paw. Then, Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Three soft scratches against the motel door. The exact same pattern she'd always used at the compound.

A silent question. Are you okay?

Then the wolf sat down outside the room patiently. Golden eyes fixed on the door while distant thunder rolled across the night sky.

Waiting.

---

Wanda’s POV

Wanda jolted upright in bed with a sharp breath, heart hammering violently against her ribs. The nightmare still clung to her. Fragments of it flashed through her mind. Darkness. Loss.

Watching people disappear and being unable to stop it. The familiar panic sat heavy in her chest even after waking. Then again—Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

For one disoriented second, Wanda thought she was back at the compound. Back in her room. Back when nightmares still woke her almost every night. Back when a giant wolf would quietly scratch at her door before curling up beside her bed until she fell asleep again.

Then reality caught up.

Wanda was already moving before she fully processed it. She threw aside the blankets and hurried toward the door, pulse racing for an entirely different reason now. The second she opened it—she froze.

A massive wolf sat quietly beneath the flickering motel light. Golden eyes lifted immediately toward her.

Y/N.

Relief hit Wanda so hard her knees almost weakened. Immediately followed by guilt. Because she'd sent her away. And somehow Y/N had still come.

“Oh my god—Y/N!”

The wolf's ears flicked backward slightly. Wanda grabbed the door quickly and looked around the parking lot. Empty. Thank god.

“Inside,” Wanda whispered urgently. “Now.”

The wolf immediately stood and slipped past her into the room. The second the door shut, Wanda turned toward her with exasperated disbelief.

“What are you doing?” she hissed quietly. “You can't just turn into a wolf outside the motel!”

The wolf lowered slightly. Ears flattening immediately.

“What if someone saw you?”

A soft whine escaped her. Wanda crossed her arms. “I’m serious.”

Another quieter whine. The ears lowered even further. And instantly—all of Wanda's frustration evaporated. Because somehow Y/N looked guilty. Even as a giant wolf.

Wanda let out a long sigh. “You can't do that,” she repeated, softer this time.

The wolf lowered her head. God. Wanda's chest ached. Not because of the nightmare anymore. Because she'd spent the entire evening missing her.

Without thinking, Wanda stepped forward and wrapped both arms around the wolf's neck, burying her face deep in warm Y/H/C fur.

Immediately, warmth surrounded her. The wolf made a soft sound deep in her chest and leaned into her instantly. Like she'd been waiting for permission.

Wanda closed her eyes. “You scared me,” she whispered into the fur.

The wolf huffed softly against her shoulder. For a long moment neither of them moved. Wanda simply stood there holding her while her heartbeat gradually slowed from the nightmare. While the lingering fear drained away. While the horrible emptiness she'd felt all evening quietly disappeared.

Her fingers threaded slowly through thick fur.

“You know,” she murmured after a while, “I think you were right.”

The wolf's ears twitched. Wanda smiled weakly. “The room was awful without you.”

The wolf immediately perked up. Wanda actually laughed. A real laugh. The wolf's tail thumped once against the carpet.

Wanda stared. “Don't.”

Another thump.

“You are enjoying this.”

The tail thumped again.

Wanda rolled her eyes fondly before resting her forehead against soft fur. Then, more quietly—“How do you always know?”

The wolf tilted her head.

Wanda swallowed against the last remnants of the nightmare.

“…When I have nightmares,” she murmured. “How do you always know?”

The wolf stared at her silently.

Then stepped closer until her large head pressed carefully against Wanda's chest. Like the answer was obvious. Like she'd always know.

Wanda's expression softened painfully. She reached up and cradled the wolf's face between her hands before pressing her forehead against soft fur again. And just like that—the room didn't feel cold anymore. Neither did she.

---

Wanda stayed wrapped around her for another long moment, fingers buried deep in soft dark fur while the last remnants of the nightmare slowly loosened their grip on her chest. The wolf stayed perfectly still for her.

When Wanda finally pulled back, golden eyes were already waiting for her, focused entirely on her with that same endless attentiveness that always made her chest ache.

“You really scared me,” Wanda murmured softly.

The wolf's ears lowered immediately. Apologetic.

Wanda sighed. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Y/N ears twitched upward again. That made Wanda laugh quietly.

Without really thinking about it, she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against the wolf’s muzzle.

The reaction was immediate. A quick warm lick swept instinctively across Wanda’s lips.

Both of them froze. Silence filled the motel room.

Wanda blinked. The wolf stared at her with wide golden eyes. Then suddenly— a distressed whining sound escaped Y/N while her paws shuffled anxiously against the carpet.

I DIDN’T MEAN TO DO THAT.

Wanda blinked again. The whining got louder.

I’M SORRY. OH MY GOD.

Another panicked sound.

THAT WAS A REFLEX.

Wanda stared at her for one long second—then burst out laughing. Not a small laugh. Bright and helpless and exhausted all at once.

The wolf looked absolutely horrified.

I DIDN’T BITE YOU, RIGHT?

That only made Wanda laugh harder. “No,” Wanda managed between laughs, covering her mouth. “No, you didn’t bite me.”

The wolf immediately shoved her nose against Wanda’s shoulder miserably like she wanted to disappear into the fabric of her shirt. Another embarrassed whine escaped her. Wanda’s entire chest warmed painfully at how genuinely mortified she sounded.

“Oh my god,” Wanda laughed softly, rubbing both hands through her fur. “You’re adorable.”

The wolf made an offended sound at that word. Which somehow made it worse. Wanda shook her head, still smiling helplessly before stepping back slightly. “Shift back,” she murmured softly.

The wolf paused. Golden eyes lifted toward her carefully.

Wanda’s heart squeezed immediately at the uncertainty there. Then softly—“Come to bed with me.”

The wolf went completely still. For a second, Wanda thought maybe she’d imagined how intensely Y/N reacted to things in wolf form—until the giant tail behind her thumped once violently against the dresser.

Wanda smiled helplessly before waving one hand lightly. Scarlet magic flickered around the room lamps. “Okay,” she murmured. “Shift back.”

The wolf hesitated. Then slowly stood.

Wanda turned around immediately to give her privacy as the familiar sound of shifting filled the room behind her—bones moving, breath catching softly, claws retracting against carpet.

A few seconds later, silence returned.

Wanda lifted one hand and used her magic automatically, summoning one of Y/N’s shirts and sweatpants from the other room. The clothes appeared and floated gently backward through the air.

“…Thanks,” Y/N murmured quietly behind her.

Wanda’s chest squeezed at how soft her voice sounded now. Still embarrassed.

“You’re welcome.”

Wanda climbed back onto the bed while Y/N got dressed behind her. The mattress dipped softly a minute later as Y/N carefully settled beside her. Not touching. Leaving space which Wanda noticed immediately.

Y/N sat tense near the edge of the mattress for a few seconds before finally speaking quietly into the darkness. “…Is this really okay?”

Wanda turned her head slightly.

Y/N was staring down at her hands now. “You said you wanted privacy,” she added softly. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

The guilt hit Wanda immediately.

Wanda rolled onto her side with a quiet sigh until she was facing her fully.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable.”

Y/N looked up immediately at that. Moonlight from the window softened her features, silver-blue across tired eyes and damp dark hair. Wanda reached up without thinking and brushed her fingers gently through that hair. Y/N immediately leaned into the touch.

Wanda’s chest ached painfully.

Her hand slid lower until she was cupping Y/N’s cheek softly, thumb brushing warm skin. Y/N visibly melted beneath her hand.

“I just panicked,” Wanda admitted quietly.

Y/N frowned slightly. “…Because of me?”

“No.” Wanda smiled faintly. “Well—yes. But not in a bad way.”

That only confused Y/N more. “I don’t understand.”

“I know.”

Y/N’s eyes searched hers carefully before words suddenly started tumbling out all at once. “I didn’t mean to crowd you and I know I stay close a lot and Yelena keeps teasing and maybe I should stop doing that and I know I hover sometimes but I just—”

Wanda leaned forward suddenly and pressed a soft kiss right against the center of Y/N’s nose.

Y/N froze instantly.

Wanda smiled a little despite herself. “There,” she murmured softly. “That stopped you.”

Y/N stared at her with wide eyes.

Wanda’s heart skipped hard in her chest.

God. She was so beautiful like this.

Wanda’s thumb brushed slowly across Y/N’s cheek again.

“…Did it only work because you were in wolf form?” she whispered softly.

Y/N’s breath caught.

Wanda leaned closer before she could lose her nerve. Then gently, but carefully, she pressed her lips against Y/N’s.

Soft. Barely there. A question more than a kiss.

Wanda felt Y/N stop breathing entirely. Their lips lingered together for one suspended second.

Then Wanda whispered softly against her mouth—“…What about there?”

It did. The second the words left Wanda’s lips, Y/N moved. Like instinct finally snapped.

Her hand came up carefully—almost hesitantly at first—cupping Wanda’s jaw as she kissed her back immediately. Not soft this time.

Wanda made a small sound against her mouth, surprised by the sudden intensity of it. Y/N kissed her like she’d been holding herself back for weeks and finally couldn’t anymore.

Which—God. Maybe she had.

Y/N shifted closer instinctively, one hand sliding carefully to Wanda’s waist while her other stayed against her cheek like she was afraid Wanda might disappear if she let go. Wanda melted instantly. Her fingers tangled into Y/N’s dark hair while she kissed her back harder, deeper this time, heart pounding violently against her ribs.

Y/N made a quiet sound low in her throat at that. The noise went straight through Wanda. Every kiss after that became less careful. Though still tender and hesitant in places, it was desperate underneath. All the restrained affection between them suddenly had somewhere to go. Wanda felt Y/N’s hand tighten slightly against her waist when she kissed her deeper, and god—that warmth, that need. It made Wanda dizzy.

Because suddenly every thought she’d been trying to bury for weeks came rushing back all at once.

Budapest. The way she’d imagined pulling Y/N closer beneath her hands. The way she’d woken up flushed and breathless after that stupid fantasy she absolutely should not have had. And now—Y/N was actually here. Kissing her. Wanting her back.

Wanda made another soft sound against her lips before instinct took over completely. Her hands slid from Y/N’s hair down to her shoulders, gripping firmly as she pulled her closer across the mattress. Y/N came willingly immediately. Like she’d been waiting for permission. The movement pressed them flush together, chest against chest beneath the blankets, and Wanda physically felt Y/N shudder at the contact.

God. That reaction alone nearly destroyed her.

Y/N kissed her again instantly, deeper this time, careful restraint cracking apart little by little with every passing second. One of her hands slipped around Wanda’s waist while the other stayed cradling her face like something precious.

Wanda couldn’t stop touching her.

Her fingers dragged through soft dark hair, down the back of Y/N’s neck, across warm shoulders beneath the thin shirt Wanda had summoned earlier.

Real. This was real.

Y/N pulled back just enough to breathe, forehead resting against Wanda’s while both of them tried and failed to calm down. Her eyes searched Wanda’s face carefully. “Is this…Okay?” Y/N whispered softly.

The concern in her voice right after kissing her senseless made Wanda’s chest ache so hard it almost hurt. Instead of answering normally, Wanda slid one hand up into Y/N’s hair again and pulled her back down into another kiss.

A soft sound escaped her as Wanda tugged her fully on top of her this time, their bodies fitting together against the motel mattress in a way that felt almost terrifyingly natural. Wanda’s heart pounded harder the second Y/N settled between her legs.

Y/N kissed her deeper almost instantly, one hand braced beside Wanda’s head while the other slid carefully along her waist like she still couldn’t believe she was allowed to touch her like this.

Wanda definitely wanted her to. Her fingers moved down Y/N’s back slowly, dragging over muscle beneath the thin shirt before gripping the fabric firmly. Y/N shivered against her mouth.

Wanda tugged upward instinctively. Y/N immediately lifted enough to let her pull the shirt off completely without breaking the kiss for more than a second. Wanda’s breath caught instantly at the feeling of Y/N’s bare chest against hers through the oversized shirt she slept in.

Her hands roamed before she could stop them, sliding across toned shoulders and down Y/N’s back again, nails scratching lightly against warm skin. Y/N gasped softly into her mouth. The sound made heat coil low in Wanda’s stomach immediately. Every touch after that became hungrier. Still messy and inexperienced in places. But desperate. Y/N kissed like she felt things too deeply to hold back once she started.

Wanda could feel it in every movement.

Every rough inhale.

Every trembling touch against her waist.

Her fingers curled harder into Y/N’s back when Y/N pressed closer instinctively, and—

Y/N suddenly froze. The kiss broke abruptly. Wanda blinked up at her, breathless and confused. Y/N had pulled back just enough to stare downward, visibly panicked now.

“What?” Wanda whispered immediately.

Y/N looked horrified. “I—”

She swallowed hard and tried shifting backward quickly like she wanted to put distance between them.

Wanda’s brows pulled together instantly. “Y/N?”

Y/N wouldn’t look at her. And then Wanda realized why.

Oh.

Heat rushed straight into her face again. Because pressed between them, unmistakable now, she could feel how hard Y/N had gotten.

Y/N looked mortified. “I’m sorry,” she blurted immediately, panic flooding her voice. “I didn’t mean—I wasn’t trying to—I can stop—”

“Hey.” Wanda caught her face gently before she could spiral any further. “Hey.”

Y/N finally looked at her. Absolutely terrified she’d done something wrong. Wanda’s chest tightened painfully at the sight. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Wanda whispered softly.

Y/N still looked unconvinced. “But—”

“You’re turned on,” Wanda said gently, trying not to smile at how scandalized Y/N looked by the concept. “That tends to happen when people are making out.”

Y/N stared at her. “…Oh.”

Wanda laughed softly despite herself. “You really don’t know what you’re doing, huh?”

Y/N’s face flushed immediately. “…Not really.”

Wanda’s expression softened at once.

Y/N looked away again, visibly embarrassed now, her hands planted awkwardly against the mattress like she suddenly didn’t know what to do with them. “I know what it means,” she said quietly. “I just…”

She stopped.

Wanda stayed still beneath her, waiting patiently.

Y/N swallowed hard. “I don’t want you to think that’s all this is.” The words came out rushed, almost panicked. “That I just—I don’t know—got excited and that’s why I kissed you or—”

“Y/N.”

“I mean I did get excited obviously, but that’s not why—”

“Y/N.”

That finally stopped the spiral. Wanda reached up, brushing her fingers gently against Y/N’s cheek until those anxious eyes finally met hers.

“I know.”

Y/N’s shoulders loosened slightly. Only slightly. Because there was still fear there.

Real fear.

Wanda could see it now beneath all the embarrassment.

Y/N hesitated before speaking again, quieter this time. “I’ve never done this properly before.”

Wanda frowned softly.

Y/N immediately looked away again. “I just...” Her jaw tightened. “I was thirteen when Hydra took me…They did things.”The atmosphere shifted instantly.

Wanda’s chest tightened hard.

Y/N’s fingers curled against the blankets like she already regretted saying anything. “They wanted more of me,” she murmured quietly, voice flattening in the way it only did when she talked about Hydra. “More wolves.”

Wanda felt cold all over.

Y/N stared somewhere over her shoulder instead of at her. “And when they couldn’t...” She swallowed once. “They tried other ways.”

That was enough. Wanda understood immediately. Pain ripped through her chest so sharply she almost stopped breathing.

Y/N laughed once. Bitter.

“So technically I know what sex is.” Her voice dropped even quieter. “But not like this.”

Not safe. Not wanted. Not hers.

Wanda’s eyes burned instantly.

Y/N shook her head quickly, like she wanted to take the words back. “I don’t really like talking about it.”

“You don’t have to,” Wanda whispered immediately.

Y/N finally looked at her then.

For a moment neither of them spoke. The motel room felt impossibly quiet.

Then Wanda reached up and gently took one of Y/N’s hands in both of hers.

“You never have to explain those things to justify yourself to me.”

Y/N blinked.

Wanda squeezed her hand softly. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

Something fragile crossed Y/N’s face. The kind of vulnerability she almost never allowed anyone to see. “You’re not... bothered?”

The question shattered Wanda’s heart.

“Y/N.” Wanda lifted their joined hands slightly. “You survived.”

Y/N looked down.

“That’s not something you need my forgiveness for.”

Silence.

Y/N’s throat worked once. Twice. Then she laughed softly through her nose. A little unsteady. “You make everything sound simple.”

“It is simple.” Wanda brushed her thumb across Y/N’s knuckles. “What happened to you was wrong.”

Y/N’s eyes closed briefly.

“And none of it changes how I feel about you.”

When Y/N looked at her again, something in her expression had softened. A little less alone.

But suddenly Wanda heard, loud and clear.

Dirty.

Wanda reached up immediately, both hands cradling Y/N’s face firmly.

“Hey.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered uncertainly between hers.

“You are not dirty.”

The thought had barely crossed Y/N’s mind before Wanda answered it out loud. Y/N froze. Fear flashed across her face so quickly Wanda almost missed it. Not fear of Wanda. Fear of what Wanda might have seen. Her breath caught.

“Did you—” She stopped.

Wanda understood instantly.

Y/N’s eyes searched hers anxiously now, bracing for disgust. For pity. For horror.

Wanda’s heart broke all over again. Very gently, she leaned forward and kissed her. Soft. Slow. When she pulled back, she kept their foreheads touching.

“I didn’t look,” Wanda whispered.

Y/N visibly stilled.

“I only heard that thought because you were thinking it so loudly.” A tiny, sad smile touched Wanda’s lips. “Your brain practically shouted at me.”

A horrified sound escaped Y/N immediately. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.” Wanda brushed her thumbs beneath Y/N’s eyes. “I would never go digging through your head like that.”

Y/N stared at her quietly. Still scared and uncertain. So Wanda kissed her again.

A tiny kiss. Then another against the corner of her mouth.

“You hear me?” Wanda whispered softly. “I don’t need to see anything to know Hydra hurt you.”

Y/N’s throat moved.

Wanda’s hands remained steady against her face.

“And I don’t need to see anything to know none of it was your fault.”

For a second, Y/N just looked at her. Then her eyes dropped. Like hearing the words was somehow harder than saying them. Wanda felt her chest tighten.

“You survived,” she continued quietly. “That doesn’t make you dirty.”

Y/N closed her eyes. Wanda could see the fight happening behind them. Years of shame, of pain. Years of being treated like something that belonged to other people.

“You are still you,” Wanda whispered.

Y/N’s breath shook.

“And I still see the same person.” Slowly, Y/N opened her eyes again.

Wanda smiled faintly. “The person who brings me my favorite candy bar.”

A tiny huff escaped Y/N.

“The person who scratches at my door when I have nightmares.”

Another tiny huff.

“The person who accepted Yelena, even though she doesn’t stop talking.”

That finally earned the smallest laugh. Wanda’s smile widened.

“The person who always notices when I’m upset.”

Y/N’s expression softened immediately.

“The person who somehow knows exactly what I need before I do.” The laugh faded into something quieter. Something warmer. Wanda brushed her thumb gently across Y/N’s cheek.

“The person who makes me feel safe.”

Y/N froze. Wanda felt her own heart pounding now. Because this part was terrifying. But not nearly as terrifying as losing the chance to say it.

“The person who made me miss her after twenty minutes.”

A startled sound escaped Y/N. Wanda laughed softly. “It was very annoying.”

Y/N’s eyes never left hers. Like she was afraid to blink. Wanda swallowed. 

Then Wanda reached up and gently pulled Y/N down toward her.

“The person who I can't stop thinking about.”

Y/N’s breath caught.

“The person who makes me nervous.”

A faint smile tugged at Y/N’s mouth.

“You?”

“Yes, me.”

Another tiny laugh. Wanda’s chest squeezed painfully.

“The person...” She hesitated, suddenly feeling far more vulnerable than she had during any fight she'd ever been in. “The person I think I'm starting to fall for.”

Silence. Complete silence. Y/N stared at her. For one horrible second, Wanda wondered if she'd broken her.

Then Y/N's eyes softened. Not with surprise. With certainty.

“I know.”

Wanda blinked. “You know?”

Y/N nodded once. “You blush every time I get close.”

Despite everything, Wanda groaned. “Oh my god.”

A tiny smile appeared on Y/N's face. “I like you too.”

The words landed so gently that for a second Wanda almost missed them. Then her heart stopped.

“What?”

Y/N looked embarrassed immediately. But she didn't look away.

“I like you.” Simple. Honest. Like she'd been carrying the truth for a long time.

Wanda stared at her. Then before she could overthink it, she grabbed the front of Y/N's shirt and pulled her down into a kiss. Y/N made a surprised sound against her lips before kissing her back immediately. All the fear that had been sitting between them seemed to disappear at once. Wanda smiled into the kiss. Y/N kissed her again. And again. Neither of them seemed capable of stopping. The world narrowed down to warmth, laughter, and the relief of finally being honest with each other.

After a moment, Y/N shifted closer instinctively. The movement was completely automatic. Unthinking. She moved further between Wanda’s legs, pressing closer as the kiss deepened.

Wanda felt it immediately. The firm pressure of Y/N’s arousal brushing against her through their clothes. For a split second, neither of them seemed to process what had happened. Then Y/N shifted again without thinking and accidentally pressed more firmly against her. Both of them froze.

The kiss breaking apart.

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror as realization crashed over her. Wanda stared up at her, equally stunned. For one long second, neither of them moved. Then Wanda buried her face against Y/N’s shoulder as a breathless laugh escaped her.

“I think...” she managed between embarrassed laughter, “maybe we should sleep tonight.”

The mortified sound Y/N made only made her laugh harder. Y/N went bright red. Immediately.

“Right.”

“Very much right.”

“Sleep.”

“Yes.”

Y/N nodded so fast it was almost impressive.

“Definitely sleep.”

Wanda laughed again and brushed a kiss against her cheek.

Neither of them moved for several seconds. Still tangled together, smiling.

Eventually Y/N carefully settled beside her beneath the blankets. But Wanda immediately rolled toward her anyway. Y/N's arm wrapped around her without hesitation. Safe. Home.

Within minutes, the tension that had haunted the entire day finally began to fade. And for the first time in a long time, both of them fell asleep smiling.

---

Yelena’s POV

By the next morning, Yelena knew something had happened.

Not because anyone said anything. Because both of them were acting weird.

Well—weirder.

Yelena leaned against the hood of the car, sipping terrible gas station coffee while watching Wanda and Y/N approach from the motel office carrying breakfast.

Y/N was smiling. Not occasionally. Constantly. At Wanda talking.  At Wanda handing her coffee. At Wanda literally existing.

It was honestly disgusting.

And Wanda—

Wanda wasn't much better. Yesterday she'd been tense. Guarded. Pretending not to stare. Today she kept drifting closer without even realizing it.

When they reached the car, Y/N handed her a coffee. Wanda accepted it, then immediately reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair out of Y/N's face. The movement was completely natural.

Neither of them seemed to notice.

Yelena nearly threw her coffee into traffic. Interesting. Very interesting.

Also—Y/N never came back to her room last night. Which already told Yelena something important.

Not what she'd originally assumed.

Because one look at them made it obvious neither of these idiots had gotten much farther than finally admitting their feelings. They had the exact same energy as two people who had stayed awake all night talking and then spent the morning staring at each other like they'd discovered fire.

Yelena hated it.

Y/N opened the passenger door for Wanda automatically. Wanda rolled her eyes but smiled anyway before getting inside.

Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.

Y/N started walking around toward the driver's side when Wanda reached out instinctively and caught the sleeve of her flannel. Tiny movement. Barely noticeable.

But Y/N stopped immediately. Turned around without hesitation. Wanda said something too quiet for Yelena to hear. Y/N's entire face softened.

Oh my god. They were unbearable already.

Yelena climbed into the backseat with the exhausted expression of someone trapped between two people who were one shared playlist away from becoming completely insufferable. The engine started a moment later.

And immediately—Wanda reached over and stole one of Y/N's hash browns without asking.

Y/N looked offended for approximately half a second before sighing dramatically and handing her the entire bag.

“You said you weren't hungry.”

“I changed my mind.”

“That's my breakfast.”

“You're big. You'll survive.”

Y/N muttered something under her breath, but there was absolutely no annoyance behind it. Worse. She looked fond.

Yelena stared at the back of Y/N's head in horror. Oh, they were down catastrophically bad.

A few minutes later, Wanda noticed a smear of ketchup near the corner of Y/N's mouth. Without thinking, she reached over. Y/N immediately stopped talking. Wanda wiped it away with her thumb.

“Thanks,” Y/N said softly.

“You're welcome.”

Then Wanda went right back to eating Y/N's breakfast like she hadn't just short-circuited the driver's brain. Yelena considered jumping out of the moving vehicle. The car rolled back onto the empty highway while morning sunlight slowly spread across the road ahead.

Nobody said a word. Nobody had to.

By then, Yelena had reached to a conclusion. Natasha absolutely owed her money for putting her in the middle of this emotional disaster.

---

Unknown POV

The motel looked almost abandoned in the afternoon light.

Most of the guests had already left hours ago, leaving behind an empty parking lot shimmering beneath the heat. Somewhere nearby, a broken ice machine rattled loudly while insects buzzed lazily around the flickering neon sign. A motel room door opened quietly. A man stepped outside, shielding his eyes briefly against the sun before looking toward the far end of the parking lot. His gaze slowly lifted toward the old security camera mounted above the motel office. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. The call connected immediately.

“Yes,” he said calmly. A pause. “The wolf was here.”

His eyes drifted briefly toward the motel rooms again. “The camera caught it.” Another pause. “No. I’m certain.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small flash drive between gloved fingers. “The fur color changed,” he continued quietly. “H/C this time.” Silence answered him for a moment. The man’s expression shifted slightly at whatever was said next. “Yes,” he murmured. “That’s what I thought too.”

A truck rumbled loudly past the motel on the distant highway. The man watched it disappear southbound. “They left this morning,” he said. “Heading south.” Another long pause.

Then—“No. They didn’t notice surveillance.” His gaze flicked once more toward the camera above the office. “The Maximoff woman is still with her.”

A faint crackle came through the speaker. The man listened carefully before nodding once. “…Understood.” The call disconnected.

For a few seconds, he remained standing there in the afternoon heat, thumb resting lightly against the flash drive in his hand. Then slowly—he smiled.

---

[anki-of-beleriand]

Without words

Gif is not mine – taken from tenor

Name: Without Words

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x female!Reader

Summary: Y/N is the new recruit, and Wanda finds herself drawn to her.

Warnings: Female!Reader has powers, fluff, a little drama, Reader doesn’t speak too much, Pietro makes a couple of appearances.

Author’s notes: So this is a little story I was working on, one shot with Reader and Wanda because this is my new obsession I hope you all enjoy.

The room was completely silent, everyone was reading on the files Coulson brought in with the details for the next mission. 

Wanda was not paying attention to the long explanations, she just glanced at the pictures. Whatever happened in that place, it was a carnage. The young witch furrowed her brows, apparently someone made sure this group of men was completely obliterated. Her eyes went from one picture to another, then another until…her green eyes caught sight of a young woman, she was standing in the middle of the carnage. 

She was beautiful, but even through the pictures Wanda could see the loneliness behind those dark eyes, She could even see the cold sadness dripping off of her, yet she stood stoic as if the sight of blood and death was her everyday routine.

It probably was.

“This is a capture and rescue mission.” Coulson said, breaking Wanda’s concentration.

"Rescue?" Wanda asked with a hint of disbelief in her voice. 

Coulson nodded pointing to the screen behind him. 

"She is the target. And whatever you do, don't engage if it is not necessary." 

The meeting continued but Wanda silenced everything else, her mind going over the reports and the pictures. Her eyes unable to look away from the young woman, a traitorous voice whispering words of curiosity, of wonderment, of attraction. Wanda tore her eyes away from the pictures as soon as she thought this, the young woman was beautiful, of that there was no doubt. But she looked like a psycho, and Wanda was not about to enter into such a dangerous game.

She was better than that.

 ____________________________________________________________ 

In retrospect, Wanda was not better than that.

They had gotten to their target on time, and Wanda had been the first one to jump in and save the day. The mission could have gone really wrong if it wasn’t for her quick thinking, and the heavy fall from the young girl they were carrying back to the Compound.

Wanda learnt her name in the Quinjet. Y/N.

A trained assassin. A soldier. A weapon.

An object.

Y/N was brought unconscious to the Avengers Compound, but Tony and Natasha had been right on top of her tending to her wounds and soothing the panic that gripped her in the midst of sleep.

For Wanda, curiosity was the first emotion that made her approach the newcomer. There was something about Y/N that made her curious. And it had nothing to do with the natural beauty Y/N held in person, or the mystery about her past or those deep eyes that glanced into hers moments before she fell asleep again. Sedated by Natasha while they approached home.

There was just something so…unique about Y/N that, with curiosity in mind, Wanda decided to get close and discover what was so special about her.

"You look antsy, why do you look antsy?" Pietro narrowed his eyes, Pietro had always wondered why his sister was so weird. There was just something about Wanda when she got in such a mood that told Pietro she either was looking for something, or had lost something.

Wanda made a face, her eyes flickering towards the training room. She really tried to hide away her emotions, to prevent Pietro from even getting a glimpse of what was worrying her. Or, better yet, what had her so antsy. But as she turned to her brother, and saw the flash of realisation gleaming in his eyes with that wicked smile adorning his face Wanda knew she was in trouble.

"The new girl?" Pietro whistle impressed, his grin only growing when Wanda was incapable of hiding her blush at having been caught ogling the new recruit training with Natasha. “Little sister, you don't waste your time…”

The grin on Pietro’s face dropped when Wanda used her magic to hit him on the abdomen, he grunted bending over though the teasing was still in his stare. Both twins looked at one another, Wanda rolled her eyes trying to brush off the knowing glint in Pietro’s eyes. Even if she pretended to not be interested, to not have been watching…Pietro knew, and that was enough. 

The sound of a body falling hard against the mats called the twins' attention, Natasha was hovering on Y/N who was trying to stand up and attack the older woman with a scowl on her face.

“Don’t lower your defences! Pay attention! You’re getting distracted.” Natasha exclaimed, going at it without any mercy, her right fist connected with Y/N yaw and the young woman was once again on her back breathing hard.

Pietro raised a single eyebrow when he caught Wanda clenching her fists, his sister clenched her jaw glaring at the scene unfolding before their eyes. The young man pursed his lips crossing his arms in deep thought, this was completely unexpected but he was not sure what to make of this reaction from Wanda. In all the years they had been side by side, she had never been this…expressive about anyone.

The room was charged with tension, Wanda could see as Natasha stood beside Y/N unimpressed by the young woman still on the ground.

“I seriously hope this is not all you can give me, Y/N.” Natasha spoke firmly, Wanda could see how Y/N tensed looking away from the other woman. “I heard the stories, and I read the reports…if you are holding back I will hurt you until you fight me for real, is that understood?”

Wanda shivered when a cold breeze went right through her, Y/N stood up on shaky legs before taking a fighting stance. Natasha tilted her head, and while to many she might be looking angered and ready to kill, Wanda had been around long enough to see Natasha was actually enjoying the training session. What’s more, Natasha was enjoying the company.

Y/N pouted and Wanda couldn’t help but think how utterly adorable that look was on her. The perfect posture for the fight, while showing off a petulant pout was something Wanda wanted to comment on. 

The scene itself was just cute.

“Now, that’s cute, you gonna kill me with that pout?” Natasha drawled with sarcasm, and Wanda had to shake herself awake when a pair of eyes settled on her.

Y/N and Natasha both were looking at the young witch with the same bewilderment on their faces. Wanda shook awake from her staring, a frown settling on her face while she went back to train with her brother.  Pietro narrowed her eyes at Wanda, he got ready to stop her punches, and Wanda hit him as hard as she could trying to shake her mind from the scene of moments ago. 

Y/N was a psycho, and Wanda wasn’t allowed to think her name was cute, and she was breathtakingly beautiful when closeby. 

___________________________________________________________________

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N was about to reach her second month in the Avengers Compound.

She had adapted herself to the new life. It was different and confusing, she had read about friends, and relationships of all kinds but never before she had allowed herself to be part of anything. Her interaction with humans had been…deathly. 

Nevertheless, Y/N liked life at the compound. Everyone was nice, and they were not afraid of her though they were severe with the rules and the training they were also nice, and kind. Y/N might not understand many things about the world, but she had learnt something and that was to distinguish between a bad person and a good one.

She had been ordered to kill both types of people. 

She especially liked Natasha. The older woman was like a mother, she was kind and attentive, her voice was soothing and relaxing, she was always scolding Y/N whenever she didn’t organise her room or didn’t take a bath, or used the same clothes for three days in a row.

Natasha Romanoff was the mother Y/N never had, and that was something Y/N valued more than anything. 

Then, there was Pietro.

He was funny, and he was always talking nonstop which was an advantage because Y/N was not overly found in conversations unless the situation demanded it. Y/N knew that Pietro was the brother she never met, or perhaps, the brother she never had; and he was not only funny but also quite helpful. He had been right on board when Y/N had asked to learn sokovian. He had been very helpful when, in secret, she asked about Wanda.

Now, Y/N relationship with everyone was nice, and amicable. Some meant more to Y/N than others, but she had learnt to call them family. 

Wanda however…well, she was family. But she was also someone else. Something else.

Y/N didn’t know how to define it, it was difficult to do so. 

Wanda was beautiful, and she was intelligent and sarcastic and, according to Tasha and Tony, sometimes she was a little brat. And all of that, combined with those green eyes and that killer smile made Y/N all warm and fuzzy inside. It made her weak on the knees and her heart speed as if she had been running for miles.

Yet, Wanda was so reluctant to even get closer to her. Sometimes she didn’t understand why Wanda didn’t like her. She could tell she was tolerated, and sometimes whenever they found themselves alone, Y/N could see traces of a smile or a kind gesture from her. Sometimes, she was nice and some others she was not but in all that time, Y/N got to know Wanda and the more she could see about the other woman, the more she felt her heart speed up at the thought of her.

It was confusing, and Natasha had refused to say or explain anything at all. You have to figure it out for yourself, Malysh (Kid)

Y/N sat on a stool munching a cracker looking at nowhere in particular, she pursed her lips pouting without meaning to. How was she supposed to figure it out if she wasn’t sure what was happening?

Wanda entered the kitchen without a care in the world, she had been so distracted she never noticed there was someone in there as well. For a brief moment she bounced happily around until her eyes met with those of Y/N, the young woman munching on her cracker glancing at Wanda with curious amusement. 

“Uh, hi.” Wanda greeted, her heart caught in her throat and there was a flutter in her abdomen. Her eyes went from her dark eyes, to the hair, the face and the top she was wearing. 

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips pursing slightly though her eyes twinkled with curiosity. Wanda stood there for a moment, shaking her head when she realised she had been staring waiting for an answer.

“So, you have a good night?” Wanda almost cringed at how stupid her question had been. Really, did she have brain damage? 

Y/N offered a tiny smile, nodding as a way to answer the question, it had been that way from the very beginning. There was not a single moment Wanda remembered Y/N speaking at all, but her face and gestures were expressive enough for Wanda to understand. 

And for some reason, Wanda liked it. She wished she could hear Y/N, but she liked the way she would try to communicate with her in ways that Wanda never considered. The young woman would bring notes to her, written with perfect sokovian with a smile and a flush, or she would just brind Wanda’s favourite sweets, her favourite flowers, her favourite music…

Y/N cocked her head to one side, her lips curled in an easy smile though there was a glint of curiosity on her eyes. Wanda noticed she had been staring for far longer than she should, and she hated the fact her face warmed up when her eyes met Y/N’s ones. The young witch tried to smile, before looking away rather fast.

“Hey guys!” Natasha came running into the kitchen, she made her way to the fridge and Y/N diverted her eyes to follow Natasha with her eyes.

Wanda didn’t miss the interaction, a tug at her heart when Y/N seemed to just follow Natasha wherever she went.

Natasha turned around with a bottle of water on her hand, the Black Widow raised an eyebrow in amusement when she noticed Y/N eyes on her and Wanda’s eyes on Y/N.

“So, any plans for the afternoon?” Natasha asked, holding back her smile.

Wanda felt her cheeks warm up when Y/N turned to her, catching her in the act of checking her out. Y/N furrowed her brow turning to Natasha shrugging.

“I see, and you Wanda?” Natasha asked and Wanda scowled since she was pretty sure Y/N didn’t say anything.

“I was…I think I’m going to watch some sitcom reruns, or something.” Wanda observed as Y/N pressed her lips together, grabbing another cracker from a plate.

Natasha nodded, walking towards Y/N and putting a hand on her shoulder, “would you mind watching something with Y/N?”

“What?! Why?” Wanda exclaimed before she could censor herself, it wasn’t that she didn’t want Y/N company. It was the fact she liked her company too much, that she wanted to be a part of her life so much it scared her.

Wanda’s reaction was unexpected and, without even realising it, she had hurt Y/N. Wanda saw as Y/N furrowed her brows, the young woman shook her head huffing before storming out of the kitchen. Natasha sighed, directing her eyes to Wanda, the older woman concealed her emotions though she made sure Wanda could not look away from her as she spoke.

“You know? She has a rough start, and she is just trying to fit in.” Natasha said harshly. “I know you didn’t like her at first, Wanda.”

Wanda tensed waiting for Natasha’s next words, hating the knowing glint in the older woman’s eyes. 

“I know that you like her now.” Natasha revealed leaning forward. “But you seem reluctant to get closer to her, and she is confused about it.”

“I don’t like her, that’s ridiculous.” Wanda shifted on her feet, turning away from the knowing stare of Natasha. “And, I just…barely tolerated her. And she…well, she…”

Natasha pursed her lips making her way to the younger woman, “she thinks you don’t like her, but she is trying to at least make friends with you.”

“How would you know that? She doesn’t even speak…” Wanda started shaking her head, walking away from Natasha.

“She does, you just are not ready to hear her yet.” Natasha said simply just before leaving the same way Y/N left.

Wanda wasn’t sure what happened, she really didn’t know. And she was left alone, confused and hurt.  

__________________________________________________________________

Wanda couldn’t sleep well that night, or the next one. 

She was being tormented by her conversation with Natasha, by the confrontation she had with her own emotions. By the fact, Natasha thought she was not ready to hear Y/N. And, without really realising what she was doing, and while trying to ignore the real reason behind her actions, Wanda started meeting with Y/N at all times. 

Whenever they met, Wanda made sure to call her by her name. Y/N. Everytime she would get the same reaction, Y/N’s eyes would lit up and she would wave as a way of greeting, just before going back to whatever she was doing. Wanda hated the thought that crossed her mind, she hated thinking Y/N looked cute. And that smile made her look even more beautiful than before. 

Their meetings would always be the same, sometimes it would be just the two of them, some others with the whole team. Wanda liked the lone encounters because she could relax some, her interaction with Y/N would be just casual and relaxed. In those moments, they both would just enjoy the company of one another, words or not words, and it had become a moment in which Wanda could be herself. If only for a moment.

Then, came the encounters with the team, which Wanda found annoying for two reasons.

First there was her brother.

Pietro was an annoying idiot. He would not shut up, and as soon as he noticed Wanda's gaze lingering on Y/N his teasing became impossible to the point Wanda either shut him up with magic or they ended up arguing like five year olds. 

Then, there was the fact you were always following Natasha everywhere. What was more, it seemed as if Natasha was the only one capable of either hearing you or reading you to attend to your every need. 

It bothered Wanda, and she wasn't sure why but a wave of determination went through her when one morning you came to her with her favourite dish for breakfast. You offered the plate, cheeks pink and a nervous smile on your face. 

Wanda couldn't help but melt at the gesture, and as she ate and saw you walk away with Natasha… well, Wanda decided that she too wanted to be near you, and that she too would love to read you the way the Black Widow did. 

The next time Wanda met with Y/N alone during breakfast, she took her chance. 

“I heard everyone went on a mission,” she drawled leaning against the counter, Y/N nodded pursing her lips. “And we are alone.”

Wanda wanted to hit herself, she really wasn’t meant to sound so…needy. Y/N furrowed her brows confused shrugging. Wanda took a deep breath tilting her head.

“I was wondering, would you like to see a movie with me?” Wanda waited expectantly, Y/N was shocked by the sudden invitation. 

It took a moment, and Wanda was about to leave and say it didn’t matter when Y/N appeared right beside her, her hand was warm against Wanda’s. Wanda smiled when Y/N lit up, her lips curled in a smile nodding, her hand grabbing yet another cracker from a box.

“Good, then…” Wanda walked backwards, her lips curling slowly. “I…I get everything ready.”

They ended up watching a romcom, and Wanda had laughed not only at the absurdity of the movie but the faces Y/N ended up doing in some scenes. She was wide eye observing those soft sex scennes between actors, a dust of red adorning those cheeks while she observed carefully as the actors got into it. Then, there were the scenes in which the protagonist would try to swoon the women of his or her life. 

It was obvious she was enjoying the movie, but also she was just too focused on every detail. As if she was analysing everything that was happening in there. And her concentration, along with the furrowing of her brows, the gleaming eyes and the surprise and amusement that went through her face made her cute. And Wanda never even noticed that her attention had been claimed but the other woman until right after the movie had ended.

The next time they met for a movie day Wanda had put on an action movie, and Y/N was just too excited watching the action and the explosions. Sometimes, when there was blood or dead scenes, she would crunched up against the sofa grabbing a pillow tightly against her chest, and Wanda had to wonder…

Movie night became a habit, and it was a habit that Y/N would start sometimes. She didn’t speak with words, but she would show up early in the morning with a DVD case and push it towards Wanda with a huge smile.

And Wanda understood that would be the movie they would watch that day. It was cute, and soon Wanda was eagerly waiting for her meetings with Y/N.

And, just like that, their relationship changed.

Y/N was just different.

The fact that she didn’t say anything at all meant nothing, because while there was not a single word coming from her she tended to be attentive. She would write little notes to Wanda in Sokovian, would bring her flowers or send her desserts. Sometimes she would make these delicious milkshakes she would only give Wanda or Natasha.

It was so…different.

And it was confusing. So confusing to think about Y/N all the time, to want to be by her side and share every second with her. To want to get to know her, or just be there for her. 

Wanda knew she was in trouble. She knew there was something there, but she wasn't ready to admit her feelings. 

So, after another sleepless night filled with Y/N dreams and thoughts, Wanda stood up ready to go to the kitchen for a coffee. 

As soon as she left her room she stood dead on her tracks, Wanda saw as Y/N stood nervously in front of Natasha’s room, the older woman opening the door and soon Y/N was in Natasha’s arms, the door closing behind her.

Wanda felt numb.

Her heart shattered bringing a strange pain piercing her chest and soul.

With a blurry stare, she turned around and went back to her room.

_________________________________________________________________

For some reason, Wanda avoided Y/N and Natasha like the plague.

She wouldn’t admit to anyone, even less to herself, that seeing Y/N go in the room with Natasha hurt.  She couldn't explain why, and actually she didn't dare to explain it. She just wanted to get away from your dark eyes and your shy smile. 

Wanda however couldn't hide for far too long.  Y/N was persistent, and in her innocence she didn't understand Wanda's mood or reluctance to be too close to her, not after having spent more than eight months sharing her time with her. Getting to know her. Getting to…to like her.

Y/N was driving Wanda crazy, with her details, with her smile and with the way she looked at Wanda. 

"You are what the Americans call a pussy." Pietro laughed evading his sister's slap, his eyes twinkling with mischief. 

"don't you have other people to go bother?" Wanda rolled her eyes trying to avoid Y/N while waiting for the rest of the team to show up in the meeting room. 

There was a loud conversation coming from Bruce and Clint, Natasha was absent on a mission from SHIELD. Y/N sat quietly shooting glances to Wanda, before settling on a confusing frown pouting at the lack of attention. 

"As your older brother, it is my duty to bother you and only you." Pietro replied playfully. 

"12 minutes, Pietro, only by 12 minutes." Wanda snorted though she broke into an easy smile allowing Pietro to wrap his arms around her. 

Pietro made a dismissive gesture, leaning in to make sure his conversation with Wanda would be private. His eyes flickered to Y/N, then back to Wanda where he caught her stealing glances at Y/N.

"Did you two have a fight?" Pietro could be really sweet and attentive when he wanted to, he asked softly to Wanda waiting for her sister to speak up.

“No, we didn’t. Why are you asking?” Wanda felt her heart skip a beat when Y/N turned sharply to the right until her eyes met Wanda's. 

Pietro observed as Y/N lifted a hand waving slowly, but Wanda just huffed looking away. The young man could see the flash of hurt crossing Y/N, then only sadness and inadequacy. 

“Because you have been avoiding her,” Pietro could see the mind of his twin working slowly around his words. "And you just ignored her attempts to be nice."

"I have not." Wanda replied weakly, Pietro offered her a crooked smile. 

"You have, everyone has noticed it." Pietro leaned back, pursing his lips before speaking again. "Is there a reason why you have been avoiding her?" 

"She is with Natasha." Wanda didn't mean to reveal so much, she was supposed to brush it off with some lame excuse. 

Wanda hated the understanding crossing Pietro's face. Her brother turned to Y/N then back to his sister. 

"How did you come with such a foolish conclusion?" There was an infuriating smirk coming from Pietro, she knew even if she was trying to glare down at her brother she was blushing. 

Embarrassed and humiliated. 

"I have eyes, Pietro. And wiped out that smirk." Her words came with a flicker of her hand and red mist showing on her fingertips. 

"Wands, are you jealous?" Pietro asked teasingly, before Wanda could use her magic on him Steve and Tony entered the room. 

Tony began the meeting with a quick announcement, Pietro let go of his sister not before whispering in her ear. 

"She really is quite conflicted because you have been distant." Pietro offered a half smile, one born out of tenderness and understanding Wanda was surprised to see there. "And you are an idiot, Natasha is like a mother to her. There is nothing else there." 

"How do you know? She did spend the night in her room, they spend almost every single moment together." Wanda couldn't help but ask, her heart skipping a beat while a bubble of hope grew in her chest. 

Pietro shrugged, "I just know it is not like that. Besides, she wouldn't shut up about you and ask about what you like and…" 

“She talked to you?” Wanda couldn’t explain the sudden ache in her heart, her whole face fell and her eyes held a glimpse of hurt Pietro was not used to seeing in his sister’s face.

“She…” Pietro trailed off not really sure if he should say what he was thinking, it didn’t matter though. As soon as he locked eyes with Wanda, he knew Wanda had read his thoughts.

She always talks to me.

But not Wanda.

The both of them had spent mornings and nights enjoying breakfast and movies, they had shared special moments in which they would laugh and just…be silent. Yes, Y/N writes notes in perfect sokovian, she always seemed to know what Wanda liked or what she prefers being in a movie, book, music…anything!

But she never said a single word!

Wanda was fuming, and she really was waiting for the meeting to be over so she could just get away from those doe eyes of Y/N that were looking at her trying to catch her attention.

“Wanda, wait!” Pietro caught his sister before she could leave the compound, the tears were a complete surprise to her and to Pietro who leaned in to wipe them away.”Sestra…”

Wanda lifted a hand shaking her head, “I just want to be alone, Pietro.”

Pietro didn’t insist, he saw as Wanda left to walk around the compound. The young man followed her with his eyes until she disappeared behind the wooded area, then he turned to the compound and found Y/N standing by the gates. And her face was just as miserable as that of Wanda.

He sighed.

Why were they so complicated?

____________________________

Wanda had disappeared most of the day and part of the night. 

She tried to put her thoughts in order, it was evident she needed to solve her insecurities and the sudden turmoil that took place in her mind and heart the moment she set her eyes on Y/N. Wanda had reached a conclusion, Y/N was attractive, yes. And even in the midst of all the unspoken words amongst them, Wanda found herself falling for your young woman.

But, it was quite obvious the other woman didn't feel the same way, thus Wanda needed to put distance for her own good.

Distance didn't work, though.

Y/N made it her duty to be even more adorable and special than ever. Wanda would find random notes or details around the places she liked to spend her time in. Sometimes it would be a book with a note and a doddle of her using her powers. Some others she would find mix up tapes with an old walkman and songs Wanda had yet to listen to but that she ended up loving.

Some others she would find a flower, and everytime it was a different flower.  All of them with different meanings and in all that time even though Wanda and Y/N would cross stares and come face to face Y/N never said a word and Wanda found herself even more drawn and in love with the young girl. 

"I'm being surrounded, guys."  Wanda flickered her hands covering three of her attackers and throwing them away. "And sure, I can deal but with a little help…" 

She trailed off, a set of bullets coming her way. The young woman tried to lift some rubble to cover herself up, she was fast but not fast enough. A piercing pain went from her right arm, she turned red eyes to the wound that was pouring blood at the moment. 

"Shit, I'm wounded." Wanda whispered with a tinge of disbelief in her tone. 

"Wanda hold on…" 

The communication cut out and Wanda felt the ground tremble under her feet. There was a truck, more soldiers and she was surrounded. Wanda made a face, her arm was hurting and she was getting exhausted. 

Then, it happened.

Darkness. Pure and unadulterated darkness, followed by a chilling breeze. 

Wanda gasped at the sight of Y/N, eyes completely black walking just a few inches above the ground. The shadows surrounding her, her hands spread wiggling her fingers. 

The world stopped for a brief second, Wanda had heard of Y/N power. She knew what Y/N could do, she had seen the pictures and read the reports. But one thing was knowing and another was seeing. 

For a brief moment Wanda locked eyes with Y/N. No longer was she the shy, almost playful woman Wanda was used to, there was a coldness that Wanda was sure came along with the training and her line of work in the past. 

A blurry of black came from her back, Wanda broke the stare to look around. The young witch opened her eyes when she realised time had stopped, or at least soldiers and the heavy truck were halted by a single shadow spreading out from Y/N fingers.

Wanda shivered but she wasn't sure if it was due to the low temperature, the emotionless face from Y/N or her voice. 

"Are you alright?" it was a sweet, concerned tone. Nothing like the person Wanda was seeing at the moment, nothing like she imagined a trained assassin sounded like. 

Wanda never thought the first time she heard Y/N talking would be like this. But her heart fluttered when the question about her well-being came, when she realised Y/N was not only worried but also interested in her being okay. 

Y/N tilted her head, breaking her concentration enough for Wanda to see a shadow of the young woman she was falling in love with. 

"Yes, you?" Wanda asked, taking a step forward, Y/N flickered her eyes to Wanda’s wound. 

"You are bleeding." Y/N  eyes darkened even more, the shadows spread out until Wanda heard the gasp and whimpers of pain coming from the men around them. 

Wanda stepped closer, she watched the changes in Y/N how she went from a Y/N to someone Wanda was not eager to meet. 

Y/N noticed the flash of fear in Wanda, her heart breaking at the sight. Before she could do or say something Wanda was invading her personal space, Wanda's hands on top of hers. 

The warmth coming from the young woman spread as fast as lighting through Y/N's body. The moment of contact cost Y/N her concentration, her eyes locked with those of Wanda. 

"I really am fine, Y/N, just sore." She tried to explain, offering a half smile. 

Y/N let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, her own lips breaking into an answering smile until a loud bang broke the silence around them. 

"Y/N!" Wanda screamed her name before anything else, her hands and eyes glowing red just as a great darkness engulfed her. 

Everything happened too fast, Wanda freed herself only to find everyone on the ground. Bleeding and shredded to pieces. 

Y/N was breathing hard, she turned around and there was no more darkness there. Wanda saw how scared the other woman was, how confused she looked. 

"Y/N…" Wanda whispered and then she was holding onto the young woman falling to her arms. 

Wanda was about to speak when she noticed blood, a bullet wound on Y/N. 

"I am a monster." Y/N said mechanically. "Monsters don't feel, monsters don't bleed."

"Guys, Y/N is hurt, you better come NOW!" 

Wanda didn't notice the trembling on her voice, or the tears rolling down her cheeks. She just held onto Y/N repeating the same words like a mantra until… she spoke no more. 

"No, no, no, please, Y/N, please baby wake up…" Wanda was desperate, afraid to move and hurt her even more. 

The young witch could hear the rest of the team coming her way, she could hear the exclamations when all of them saw the scene in front of them. 

"Please, baby, just wake up, they're here and you're going to be fine." Wanda whispered, her arms wrapped protectively around Y/N. 

Wanda watched as Tony and Natasha helped Y/N on a stretcher. Pietro had his arms around her. 

"She is going to be okay, don't worry." He tried to reassure Wanda, but the young witch was afraid this would not be the case. 

__________

Wanda found herself in Y/N’s room everyday for over a week.

She would come to check on her status, to read to her, to put on some music or a movie. Wanda would stay late at night teling Y/N about her day, about the missions, but she would never tell Y/N she missed her. How her world turned to be just cold and lonely without her around it. 

Wanda never told Y/N about her feelings, how she didn't think she was a monster. How Wanda herself thought she was a monster once, a long time ago. 

"Steve is looking for you," Natasha placed a hand on Wanda's shoulder, the young woman turned startled furrowing her words.

Natasha offered a rare smile filled with understanding. 

"He is worried about you and the amount of time you spend here."

Wanda couldn't hide her blush, she opened her mouth to explain herself but nothing came out. 

"I know why you stay here, Wanda." Natasha flickered her eyes to the sleeping form of Y/N. "Perhaps, you should tell her."

Wanda sighed looking away, "I don't think… I'm not…" 

Wanda was not sure she should do it, she wasn't even sure Y/N felt the same. There was so much fear in a single act of confession, Wanda was not sure if it was the right thing to do. 

Natasha squeezed her shoulder tenderly.

"Sometimes, we need to hear those words, Wanda. Sometimes we really need to know there is someone out there that loves us for who we are. What we are." Natasha said with so much understanding in her words, Wanda felt her throat clenched with unshed emotions. "Don't wait too long because time is an illusion, and you could regret tomorrow what you didn't do today."

Natasha saw as Wanda left with silent tears rolling down her cheeks. The redhead turned to Y/N pursuing her lips in disapproval. 

"I know you are awake," Natasha reprimand, Y/N eyes fluttering open and Natasha shot her a soft glare. "The same goes to you, stop hiding, stop running and do something or you are going to lose the girl you can stop thinking about."

Y/N pouted looking away, Natasha snorted brushing Y/N with a tender hand. 

"I expect something to change for the better once I am back, Y/N. You deserve to be happy as much as she deserves it."

Y/N huffed, shooting a quick glance at Natasha, "I'm not used to this, Tasha, I don't want to mess up."

Natasha softened her features, her hand went to Y/N head caressing her softly. 

"Think about you, how would you like to be approached or to feel…" Natasha then shrugged, "then think about her and how you want her to feel. Then, you will have your answer."

___________

Wanda couldn't help the goofy smile on her face. 

That very morning a breakfast had been set up for her, a flower, her favourite breakfast and a single note. 

Have a good day, Little Witch

It read in perfect sokovian. Y/N had woken up and at the moment was in deep conversation with Steve and Tony. While Wanda knew she wasn't in any trouble, the conversation was necessary to assess the damage she had inflicted on the Hydra minions, and the damage to her own psyche. 

But the morning turned to afternoon, and then that afternoon turned in night and Wanda had yet to see Y/N. Once again, Wanda felt the piercing pain of rejection, of having created false expectatives around someone that only thought of Wanda as a friend. Nothing else. Nothing like Wanda wished for.

The next day Wanda woke up empty.

She considered if standing up was necessary, it was Saturday so she knew the compound would be empty at least until they decided if it would be movie night or party night. If Wanda was to be honest, she didn’t want to do nothing at all. She just wanted to…lay there.

It was not possible, and she knew that. 

Soon, Wanda was getting ready to go to the kitchen and grabbed something to eat when she first came face to face with her brother. The young man had a huge grin in place, his eyes twinkling with mischief and Wanda was dreading that expression.

“Sister of mine, I received a note for you…” Pietro bowed mockingly, stretching his hand with a red piece of paper.

“For me?” Wanda grabbed the paper, opening it slowly, her breath caught in her throat as she read the words over and over again. “What…?”

“I’m not sure. But if I were you, I would follow what they said.” Pietro offered a sincere smile, Wanda chewed on her lower lips hesitating until she felt the hand of her brother on hers. “Wands, do you want to?”

Wanda didn’t need to read minds, or to even ask Pietro what he meant to know what he was asking. The young woman nodded shyly, and Pietro engulfed her in a hug.

“Then little sister, go for it.”

“12 minutes, Pietro, only for 12 minutes!” Wanda could hear his laughter, though he had disappeared in a matter of seconds. 

Wanda read the note again, she chewed on her lower lip knowing the warmth she was feeling on her face was due to her own embarrassment. Her heart was pounding against her chest, and there was a tingling all over her abdomen travelling up her chest to her limbs. 

You are the light to my darkness, it is just through your eyes and your smile that I can take on my worst nightmares and know that there is a chance to happiness. 

I know I don’t deserve you. I am a monster, you are an angel…

I don’t presume to know what you want, or what you think…but if you feel as I feel…would you meet me by the hill overlooking the compound? 

It was a beautiful morning, warm and fresh, with the compound gleaming peacefully under the sun of Spring. The hill Y/N had mentioned in her letter was overlooking the compound and the lake, right before a great forest that spread out to the mountains. It was a beautiful place that they rarely went to, missions and the life of a hero didn’t allow for excursions or more everyday experiences. 

Wanda was nervous, her hands wriggling in front of her playing with the rings on her fingers. Her green eyes sweeping around the terrain, she knew her heart was just beating too fast, too loud that probably anyone could hear it. Her body was trembling with anticipation, Wanda felt as if she had jumped off of a hill to an endless pit of uncertainty. She didn't know what she would find, and while her mind was trying to play tricks on her, whispering lies and doubts, her heart was telling her this was the right decision.

Y/N sat at the steep of the cliff, Wanda was tempted to call out to her. Fear grasped her heart at her closeness to the precipice, but the young witch knew Y/N would not jump, much less fall due to clumsiness. 

“I received your note.” Wanda said lamely, she wanted to hit herself when Y/N turned back with a teasing smile in place. “Obviously.”

Y/N chuckled patting the spot beside her, Wanda hesitated. Y/N might be an expert with extreme emotions, but Wanda preferred not to experience them. However, the young woman couldn’t say no to those doe eyes, that pull of the lip and that pleadingly glance. 

“I think you are far too comfortable with getting away with anything you want,” Wanda said while sitting right beside her, Y/N shrugged smuggly tilting his head so he was looking directly at Wanda.

Wanda was about to speak, but Y/N's sweet and deep voice stopped her.

“I like you, Wanda.” It was a simple declaration, and it described perfectly the type of person Y/N had been so far. “I think that I may be in love with you, but…I’m not sure.”

Wanda swallowed down her emotions, the tears pricked at her eyes though she was not completely sure what to feel. What to experience. Y/N furrowed her brows lifting a hand to brush away the tears, she was being so tender Wanda felt the tugged in her heart as a painful reminder that perhaps this was not a real declaration.

“Oh, I think you are not understanding,” Y/N finally said though there was still confusion in her dark eyes. “I cannot tell you if I am falling in love with you because I have never…I have read about it, and the movies and shows we have seen are good research material but…”

“I am in love with you.” Wanda didn’t know what possessed her to make the declaration, she could read the surprise in Y/N's face and Wanda decided this was the best time to come clear with her emotions. “I have fallen in love with you, and I’m not sure if this is a good or a bad thing, I’m not sure you…”

Y/N pursed her lips turning away from Wanda, “Tasha told me that I should be honest, that I should know my emotions before coming forth and reveal them to you.”

Wanda could see the conflicting emotions in Y/N’s face, her hand twitched hesitantly before she took Y/N warm hand in hers. Y/N lowered her stare to her join hands, her lips curling slightly.

“I was raised to be a monster, to be an assassin.” Y/N continued. “And that’s what I was. I learn about human emotions, but I have never had anyone. No family. No friends. No lover.”

Wanda squeezed her hand, and Y/N sighed facing Wanda with determination.

“You are so pure, Wanda.” 

“I am not pure, Y/N.” Wanda replied and there was a hint of humour in her tone, perhaps her interpretation of the word completely different to the one Y/N brought into the conversation. “And you are not a monster.”

Y/N snorted, “I am, and I make peace with that. And you are pure, Wanda. You have never seen or experienced what someone like me had. You…even in your mistakes, you feel everything, you experience emotions in a way I can only envy.”

Wanda played with those words in her head, she was trying to read between lines and understand everything Y/N was experiencing at the moment.

“You are beautiful, and like a light in the midst of so much darkness and coldness.” Y/N leaned in getting so close to Wanda the other woman couldn’t help but part her lips, her eyes going from Y/N’s lips then to her eyes.

“And I am afraid of you finding…perhaps, it is not me who you want. Who you wanted. I am afraid of not knowing how to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

Wanda softened with that declaration, with some hesitation she lifted a single hand to cup Y/N’s cheek in her hands. Her eyes gleaming with all the emotions she was experiencing at the moment, to make sure Y/N could read the honesty behind her gestures.

“I love your voice, I can’t believe you have deprived me of hearing you talk.”

“You make me nervous.” Y/N revealed sheepishly, “I was…afraid I would mess up. Sometimes, my voice and my words…are not so functional. I sound like a soldier, like what they made me.”

Wanda leaned further in, she could see the suffering and the uncertainty in regards to what Y/N was going through. 

“You make me nervous too,” Wanda confessed to a surprised Y/N. “I thought…maybe I was not enough, that you couldn’t feel the same and…”

Wanda was cut off by a pair of lips against hers, the kiss was soft and tentative, a brush of lips trying to learn her taste to memorise her lips. It didn’t last more than a couple of seconds, and it felt like an eternity of bliss. 

When her eyes fluttered open, Wanda saw Y/N looking back at her with a huge grin and dust of pink on her cheeks. 

"You're not a monster, Y/N. I learned a long time ago that my powers, our powers, don't define us." Wanda brushed a strand of hair out of Y/N's face, the young woman smiled stroking Y/N's cheek. 

"You are an amazing woman, and you are becoming an amazing fighter. A hero." 

Y/N dipped her head shyly, and Wanda had to wonder how this woman sitting in front of her could be such a dangerous assassin, a stoic fighter and at the same time looked so innocent, so bashful and young. 

"I don't feel like a hero," she said softly, "I am damaged, and I need some work…perhaps, at some point, I would believe it."

Y/N's words were accompanied by a sheer honesty Wanda was sure was one of her best traits. 

"We can try working on that and… if you want, we can try working on us." Wanda gave a nervous smile, flustered at her own boldness. "If you want, of course."

This time around Y/N, and her laughter was like a fresh breeze on a heated morning. 

"I think I do want to, Wanda."

Wanda shivered when she said her name, the young witch smiled and this time around it was her the one acting shyly. Y/N leaned in with a serious expression, her eyes gleaming with an unfamiliar light. 

"I am ready to learn about being with someone, in a relationship." Y/N's voice dropped, it turned invitingly and this time around whatever tingles Wanda had felt on her abdomen and chest they were travelling all the way down to her crotch. 

"I am really ready to learn everything there is to know about being with you,” Y/N was so close, and her voice was just so inviting. “I know I want to experience everything with you…but Tasha told me to do this right, we have to be married. Outside of that sacred bond, it would be…meaningless.

Y/N observed carefully as the young witch's face changed at those words, her green eyes darkened slightly, her cheeks red and her breath laboured, though her mouth was hanging open at the last part. 

"Who said… I mean marriage is.. I guess some people…" And could Wanda sound more of an idiot at the moment?

Y/N laughed again, her arm wrapped around Wanda pressing closer to her careful with the position they were in. The teasing in her eyes easy to read at the moment, Wanda was still trying to process what had happened until Y/N spoke again. 

"Pietro said if I mentioned something like that you would short-circuit." The teasing smile didn't go, and Wanda felt the need to kill her twin at the moment. 

"Does it mean you though of us having sex before marriage?" Y/N inquired feing innocence. 

"Oh God, I'm going to kill Pietro" Wanda mumbled looking away in embarrassment, Y/N chuckled before leaning back 

Wanda didn't dare to look back at Y/N, but she ended up returning the smile the other woman was wearing. 

“I wouldn’t mind doing something before marriage,” Y/N chuckled when Wanda just rolled her eyes at her.

“You really are enjoying this teasing.”

“I am, yes.” Y/N answered seriously, “and I like it more because it is with you.”

Wanda offered a half smile, Y/N squeezed her hand tenderly.

“And, while I would love to make love to you, and I think for now I just want to…be with you.” Y/N revealed and Wanda melted right away trembling at the close proximity of the other woman. At the tender kiss, and the loving words. 

“I think I want to be with you as well.” Wanda revealed and the both of them knew it was more than a physical attraction, that there was something else they needed to build before their relationship could change.

Silence overcame them, and it was comfortable. Both of them contemplating the morning, the sun sneaking out of the heavy clouds. 

Slowly, and without planning it, their hands joined again. A simple gesture, a moment of solitude before they had to go back to the real world. 

This time around together. 

[anki-of-beleriand]

The Best Kept Secrets ch.8

Summary: Wanda was on the verge of breaking down when she was called to attend her brother's engagement party. Alone and unable to keep up with her mother's expectations she makes a deal with the devil that would lead her to discover a side of her that may either destroy her or bring the happiness she so craves for herself.

Pairing: Female!Reader x Wanda Maximoff - Carol Danvers x Natasha Romanoff - Pietro Maximoff x Gwen Stacy - Jessica Jones x Vision.

Warnings: AU, Modern setting, No powered characters, cheating, idiots in love, unrequite/requited love, jealousy, drama, angst, broken hearts, homophobia, enemies to convenient allies to lovers, denial, slow burn, smut, obsession, toxic relationships, alcohol, drunk people, fake relationship more warnings as chapters come in. TW: mentions of emotional abuse and some physical abused in a relationship.

Author's Note: It is time to pretend, it is time to change.

I wanted to thank you all for being loyal to the story, for liking it and being patient with me. This chapter was challenging, I wanted it to make it as real and as emotional as I could. I hope you like it.

Please remember English is not my mother tongue, so I apologize for any grammar, spelling or funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Art of Pretending

The sound of a car horn made you jerked around, the traffic light changing into green just as you disassociate with memories of that Halloween night.

You shifted on the seat, the sky above your head was turning into shades of purple and dark blue, not a single cloud could be seen and night started consuming the daylight that had accompanied you half the road.

You glanced out at the rear mirror shaking your head to try and scare away the memories of the first time you met Wanda Maximoff. Halloween of 2024. With a sigh, you pushed the gas pedal and your car started advancing through the streets leaving behind the busy centre of the city and entering the suburban world you had been introduced to by chance.

It never occurred to you that night would come back to haunt you, at that time you opted to forget those green eyes and the experience the night brought to you. You cocked your head to the left then to your right, your eyebrows shooting up at the great, fancy houses erecting on each side of Chelsea streets. As you drove further into the neighbourhood and the houses became bigger with fenced entryways and high security you became aware of the world you were getting dragged into.

This world did not forgive nor did welcome people like you. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, not for the first time you regretted having agreed to such an idiotic plan. Not only was this a bad idea due to the amount of people that already knew you, but you also risked the wrath of the redhead that, day by day, seemed to just despise your mere existence.

At some point you asked yourself why it matter so much to you that Wanda continue with her angry stance against you. You pursed your lips trying to concentrate on the streets and the houses, and the fancy decor of the neighbour; your memory playing tricks with you, bringing back the memories of Wanda arriving that day at work acting as if you were invisible. Cold, detached, and a tad upset, her nonchalant attitude towards you that day was even worse than her constant bickering and misplaced angry against you.

This newfound attitude in which you were non-existent told you perhaps Bishop had told her something about their fake girlfriend deal for that night. This could only mean the night would be long, just as your day had been unbearable that day.

You sighed parking right beside the intercom of a huge black fence leading to the Stacy household.

“Good afternoon and welcome to Stacy Manor, may I know your name and the reason for your visit?” A male voice inquired through the metal box; you blinked a couple of times trying to remember what you were doing here. “Miss?”

“Oh, right, sorry. I'm Y/N Y/L/N, I was invited to the…pre-wedding dinner?” You kept your eyes on the black box; you could hear the static and then after a couple of minutes the man talked again.

“The parking courtyard is to the left of the fountain. Welcome to Stacy Manor.”

You mumbled a quiet thank you watching as the fence slid silently to the left. Not for the first time you asked yourself why you were doing all of this. Why did you accept this deal? Why were you coming to Wanda’s aid when it was obvious she hated you.

The answer eluded you, and you dared not to dive into the reasons behind your actions. This question would come into your mind whenever you found yourself around Wanda but, by the time you decided to answer it, it was already too late.

For now, you were happily ignoring your reasons, and getting into a world that most certainly didn’t want you there.

The clock showed it was 6:30pm.

Everything was being set up to be ready by 7:30pm when the guests were actually scheduled to arrive. Kate Bishop stood by the garden in the courtyard, her gaze traveling around the beautiful setting where Gwen was fussing around with her mother and Eleanor who had offered a friendly hand before dinner. The normalcy of the scene almost made her smile; this is what life used to look like when they were younger. 

Hell, this was what their lives used to look like before Halloween 2024. Kate spotted Wanda inside the house, her hands grabbing the phone against her ear, her face a mask of pure irritation and stress. Kate didn't need to ask who was at the other end of the line, there was only one person that could prompt such a reaction out of her friend and, not for the first time, Kate begged the skies she wasn't adding fire to an already burning Wanda.

There was a beep coming from her phone, Kate gasped, opening her mobile and glancing at the new message.

I'm here, Bishop, are you coming with my sweet pumpkin to welcome me?

Kate felt her lips twitch upwards at the nickname. Then, she winced, she really hoped Wanda would not kill Y/N and that Y/N would behave during dinner.

With a heavy heart, and some determination Kate started walking towards Wanda, the young woman putting a hand on her face while ignoring the set of messages assaulting her mobile at the moment.

There were days in which she felt as if her world was crumbling under her feet, her body falling while hitting some of the debris waiting for that last hit that would drag her into a cold void where she would never find an exit. Today was one of those days in which she felt her world just falling apart. Her mother had been calling nonstop, asking her about her girlfriend, what said girlfriend should be wearing for the dinner, how if Natalya didn't approve of her Wanda needed to be ready to accept Victor as her companion.

Wanda had tried to answer the questions. But she didn't know the answers. Kate had been secretive since Monday when Wanda called her in the middle of her drunken meltdown, and the only thing her best friend had said was that she ‘had everything under control’. But, even Kate had been distant and distracted, and not for the first time Wanda’s mind played on repeat and with full high-quality video the little scenes between Y/N and Kate.

Y/N half naked in the kitchen, the intimate kiss. Kate asking for Y/N phone number. The Lunch. The second kiss. Kate being secretive with Wanda. Y/N acting all weird that day at the office. Jarvis calling her, Jarvis whispering promises. Jarvis telling Wanda he needed her. Jarvis kissing Jessica and proposing to her. Wanda waiting for Jarvis at their hidden flat only for him to cancel last minute.

The memories of everything that had happened to her in the last year, all coming together making her dizzy, her body was trembling, her hands sweating while a piercing coldness went through her chest down to her abdomen.  Everything was moving fast, and Wanda was losing control, then…

Wanda jerked around when a hand placed itself on her shoulder. She opened her eyes, her heart hammering in her chest, while her green eyes found the blue ones of Kate glancing at her worriedly.

“Wands, are you alright?” Kate tilted her head; her brows put together in a familiar gesture that Wanda hated to see on her best friend at the moment.

“Yes, yes, I am fine.” She snapped, stepping back while putting her hand on her forehead, she winced at the hurt flashing Kate’s eyes.

Wanda closed her eyes before opening again, “mother has been calling me nonstop since she scheduled this dinner to meet my ‘girlfriend’”

Wanda made quotation marks around the girlfriend's word. Kate winced with a hint of understanding in her smile; she lowered her eyes to Wanda’s mobile then back to her friend who had an eyebrow raised at Kate.

“Kate, tell me you got someone, you told me to not worry, that I…”

By then Wanda had started breathing hard, tears forming in her eyes while desperation drew on her features. Kate put her hands on Wanda’s shoulders, she squinted her eyes at her, not knowing how to reach out to Wanda who seemed to just get lost little by little in an emotional turmoil.

“Hey, Wands, I told you I have your back, and I do.” Kate offered a half smile, her voice soft and reassuring. “Wands, are you sure you are okay? I mean, it's just lately…”

Wanda wrapped her arms around Kate, whatever Kate was about to say was cut off by the sudden gesture. Kate gasped but returned the hug softening, she knew Wanda had been at a crossroads and all she wanted to do was to make things easier for her, to make sure Wanda did not fall into the hands of Jarvis once more and finally could just be her old self.

“Wanda.” Kate whispered, but Wanda stepped back offering a practice, pearly smile fixing her hair and clothing.

“I trust you, you know how I get when mother starts pressuring me.” She tried to explain, but Wanda could see Kate was not convinced. They stood like this for a moment, before Kate decided to not press the matter for the time being.

“I know.” Kate could see the relief washed over Wanda, the gratefulness in her stare. Kate just hoped this expression would still be on once she told Wanda who was waiting for them in the courtyard.

“So, about my fake girlfriend…” Wanda bounced on her feet, she glanced around making sure they were alone in the living room before setting her eyes on Kate. “I know you prepare everything, I’m just anxious and…”

“She is here.” Kate blurted out, Wanda blinked a couple of times, her lips twitching with uncertainty.

“Oh, you mean…” Wanda waved her hand glancing back at the entrance as if expecting a young woman would jump out of the sofa spreading her arms in a surprised gesture. “Where is she? Come on, I would like for her to meet me properly before mother comes here, perhaps give her a couple of tips…”

Kate tittered, grabbing Wanda’s hand in hers, her eyes wandering around refusing to look at Wanda while she started guiding them to the main entrance. Wanda didn’t notice this change, she was still babbling away the things she would need to share with this stranger, while also trying to make sure no one caught them on that first meeting. Everything seemed to be falling into place, a normalcy that was familiar and manageable until they finally reached the house’s entrance and Wanda found herself standing in front of none other than Y/N.

“There you are, my sweet precious angel, did you think I forgot about this dinner?” You gave Wanda a lopsided grin, your hands inside the pockets of your trousers looking specially relaxed and just a tad smug.

Wanda stood there for a moment unable to do or say anything besides the choked gurgle grunt mixed with an exclamation that didn’t quite resemble any human speech. Kate opened her eyes standing in between the both of you, she lifted her right hand as if trying to placate Wanda while shooting you a warning stare.

“Now, Wands, this…”

“You brought her?! What the hell is wrong with you, Kate?” Wanda finally exclaimed, she shot you a withering stare clenching her jaw close when the memories and thoughts Wanda had tried to suppress came crashing down and all her misfortunes came to be represented by a single figure.

Y/N.

“There is no way in hell I will pretend to even like her.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, her green eyes growing wide and wild. “You told me to trust you!”

“Wanda, hear me out…Y/N…”

“No!” Wanda exclaimed, almost screaming while glowering at you. “Get out! I prefer to go with Victor or anyone for that matter than spend a single minute with yo…”“Y/N, dear you look absolutely dashing!” Eleanor Bishop came out of nowhere wrapping her arms around you, her lips curled into a content smile while her eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Eleanor, you look beautiful, as always.” You replied rather thankful for the sudden interruption, Kate let out a sigh of relief while offering a shaky smile to Wanda.

Wanda was wearing her scold quite firmly, but this time around there was uncertainty in her eyes, when did Y/N meet Eleanor? Why were they looking so familiar with one another? Why did Wanda even care?! Wanda looked around at you, then Eleanor, and finally Kate who had her right hand wrapped around her forearm, her eyes glistening lightly with a hint of sadness and hurt in them.

“Wh-what…” Wanda started but the words tangled inside her throat when you stepped closer to her, your eyes locking with hers in a single demanding stare.

“Kate asked me to pretend to be happy with you, and I will pretend that you are a decent human being and that I am in love with you.” You said and for the very first time in forever, Wanda could see the cold anger emanating from you, her breathe caught in her throat when you mentioned being in love and pretend. This was turning out to be a strange nightmare and Wanda was not sure how to get out of it.

You continued speaking making sure Wanda could not look away from you, “Kate all but begged me because you were in trouble, she knew this probably was not what you had in mind but she knew, unlike you, that I would try to make it work so you and her could get away with whatever it is you both need.”

Wanda turned to Kate, her heart breaking at the sight of her best friend trying to hold it together. Eleanor stood wearing a half-smile, impressed by the young woman that was talking rather forcefully to Wanda.

“Now, I can go if that’s what you want, Maximoff. But I won’t let you hurt Kate or mistreat me anymore.” You finalized. “I sure as hell don’t know why Kate is so worried about you, last time I met you and your toy boy you seemed to enjoy being treated like nothing.”

“How dare you…? You…” Wanda whistled, stepping closer to you, defiant and letting go of her frustrations only to be stopped by you standing in front of her, closer than was probably necessary.

“Look you are the one needing help, not me. You can continue with the insults, hell even with the slaps and it won't change the fact that you have a fucking huge attitude problem.” You shrugged without being affected by her withering glance. “Kate is only worried about you, and I am doing this because Kate asked me to. Not because of you. If I'm honest, you pretty much deserve this. But, I'm not a bad person so, I came here, ready to pretend but I won’t submit to you or your abuse.”

Wanda opened her eyes in utter disbelief, hurt and even angrier than she was before. But by then she was well-aware of Kate and Eleanor looking at her waiting to see what she would do. Wanda could also see, out of the corner of her eye, that Pietro had arrived with their mother, that he was parking and soon Wanda would need to face Natalya and everyone. 

She just couldn't get a rest. Not a single moment of respite.

You read every single thought and emotion that went through Wanda in those few seconds you two faced one another. With a snort you step back letting out a heavy sigh tilting your head to look at Kate, your eyes softening lightly when they discover how hurt and sad Kate was looking at the moment.

“I told you this wouldn’t work, Kate. Sorry, but I am not about to play this part with someone who clearly despises me and doesn't want me here.”

Then you turned to Wanda once more, the sound of a car approaching making all four of you turn to the entrance to see a black car circling the fountain in the parking courtyard. Wanda gasped clenching her fist closed, her eyes went from you, then to Eleanor and finally to Kate who was looking at her with confusion, hurt and just a tad bit of understanding.

Time seemed to slow down, the world before her eyes twirled in a kaleidoscope of emotions and images she could hardly control. Her ears caught the sound of a parking car, doors getting closed, footsteps approaching; Wanda found herself locking her eyes with yours with her lower lip quivering lightly.

“Wanda, dear, I can't imagine what you are going through.” Eleanor spoke gently, approaching the redhead while placing a single hand on her shoulder, “what I do know is that Natalya won't stop at nothing to ensure you end up with whoever she has chosen for you, and that will make you even more miserable than you are right now.”

Wanda looked away only to find herself facing her best friend, Kate took a tentative step and hugged her.

“I know this is not what you hope for, Wands. But believe me, I wouldn’t have done so if I didn’t think this would work.” Kate whispered, Wanda closed her eyes hugging Kate back before nodding.

“I know.”

Wanda stepped back, her world spinning out of control as she took a step closer to you. Her trembling hand grabbing yours, she was trembling, and her eyes were a storm of conflicting emotions you couldn’t read properly.

“Let’s pretend then.” Wanda stated it as if it was a heavy burden, her green eyes locking with yours.

Wanda froze for a moment; her breath caught in her throat when her nose caught the sweet aroma of your perfume and the smell of your shampoo. Her eyes locked with yours, and for a brief moment, Wanda thought you were going to kiss her, you could see the panic in her eyes so you tried to offer a half smile that didn't quite reach your eyes then you leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“Let’s pretend, then.”

Pietro Maximoff had never understood the animosity his mother felt against Wanda and everything his twin sister did in life. It was not a mystery to anyone, Pietro had always been able to practice the sport that he wanted, to take the classes he desired, to get everything he wanted. Whereas Wanda had to work for it, Natalya always made sure it was something she approved or else Wanda would never get it unless their father intervened. Pietro had tried to speak about it with his mother, he had tried to be a bridge between the two women, but all his attempts had been futile and, at some point his father had told Pietro to just give up.

Unfortunately, your mother sees things differently. Do not waste your time trying to change their relationship. Instead, support your sister and never let Wanda get lost in pleasing your mother. Nor lose yourself trying to please her either.

After that conversation Pietro found it easier to be there for his sister while trying to jiggle up the relationship with their mother. Some days were just harder than others.

“Frankly, I do not understand her aversion to going out with Victor.” Pietro had been hearing the same discussion for over a week, her mother continued rambling about Wanda and the perfect life she would have if only she went out with von Doom.

“He is handsome, a gentleman, he has money, and a name, and…”

“...he is an arsehole.” Pietro chimed in grinning, his mother glared at him shaking her head.

“Language.” She scolded Pietro who chuckled while nodding.

“I'm sorry mother, he is a butthole.” He could see his mother holding back a smile, trying to keep her scolding expression.

“Pietro, he is not that bad, and he will be good for your sister.”

Pietro flickered his eyes to his mother; there was a twitch in her eyes and the muscles of her face were tense.

“Mother, Wanda has a partner already, and it wouldn’t kill you to try and be nice with her and her girlfriend.” Pietro held back his emotions, he acted like the protective brother he had always been even though he knew there was no girlfriend and Wanda better come up with a good excuse for this mess.

Natalya pursed her lips crunching up her nose in distaste.

“Yes, the lesbian girlfriend.” Natalya spat the last word with disdain. “We will see how real this girlfriend is, and how well-behaved she is…”

“We need to make sure she is vaccinated as well, and perhaps if she can go potty properly?” Pietro rolled his eyes making sure to drive the car into the Stacy Manor entranceway reaching the parking courtyard in no time. “She is a woman, not a dog, mother.”

“Please, Pietro, not you too. I am only looking out for your sister! I thought you would understand that you of all people would be on my side.” Natalya looked out of the window, her eyes falling on the group standing by the entrance of the Manor.

Pietro parked the car, he turned to his mother, placing a hand on hers.

“Mother, I am on nobody's side.” He stated clearly, his mother pursing her lips. “I will support Wanda with her decisions because she is my sister and I love her. I won't force her or convince her of going out with someone she clearly doesn't like. Now, this is my wedding, can you at least give us this moment without trying to set her up?”

Pietro wanted to say something else, he wanted to tell his mother to stop messing with Wanda’s life. To leave her alone, but he remained silent, his father's words dancing inside his head while the pressure of the oncoming wedding weighed him down a little.

“Very well, Pietro. I will behave.” His mother said rather coldly, “let's go, I believe your sister is dying to introduce me to her girlfriend.”

*****

The courtyard lights lit up one by one, igniting the porch with clear yellowish light.

As the night descend upon the neighbour, the temperature dropped with a gust of wind messing around with clothing and hair of the people still standing by the stairs leading to the main entrance. The afternoon had changed into a terse night, and the subtle changes were quite evident to you by the way Wanda straightened up, her green eyes losing all glimpse of fire giving way to a cold detachment you were not familiar with.

It wasn’t as if you knew her too well, you had seen Wanda angry, upset, confused, irritated, lost and some more angry. You could tell there was a fire in her that would be amazing to be a part of without getting burn, and you could tell by how loyal Bishop was that Wanda was a really good friend. A good person.

Which is why you were confused, now more than ever, to see her so weak. So meek. You had seen her at her worst, what happened on Halloween was something you found yourself thinking it was disgusting, before going through pity for the young woman, and finally wondering how someone as smart and beautiful as Wanda could be in such a dire situation with an arsehole.

Now you knew why.

Natalya Maximoff was a woman in her late fifties, that exuded power and money with her gestures, her clothes and her words. It was quite evident in the way she looked physically that she was Wanda’s mother, but their likeness ended in the physical appearance. Unlike Wanda, Natalya was a cold, calculating woman, and she had little to no sympathy for her daughter or those she deemed inferior to her and her family.

And, by the way she was looking at you, Natalya Maximoff had already formed a judgement against you. By the time you turned to Wand, your eyes crossed with those of Kate who had a frown in place, you pressed your lips together turning to the redhead, watching her reaction.

Wanda stood completely rigid with the tension pulling back on the skin around her eyes and lips, her eyes were dulled with just a hint of tiredness and submission, something you were not familiar with. It was quite evident by the way she was standing and grabbing her left forearm with her right arm that she would prefer to be anywhere but there.

Once more, Wanda found herself standing at the edge of a cliff in which everything she thought was her perfect life was crumbling down her perfect life was crumbling down right in front of her eyes threatening to take her down without giving her a chance to be happy. Wanda hated the situation she found herself in, she hated the fact she had no control over what she could do, and what was expected of her. She was at the mercy of everyone, forced to submit herself to their whims to try and just…

…she didn't even know it anymore.

Natalya Maximoff approached the entrance stairs with her eyes hardened as she inspected you from her to toe before turning to Wanda. The woman squinted her eyes, pursing her lips while raising a brow.

“Today was going to be a semi-formal dinner, Wanda. I told you to wear something proper for the occasion.” Natalya stated lifting her chin, Wanda held back his expression.

“Good afternoon to you to, mother.” She said softly, her hand tightening on her forearm. “I was at work; I didn’t have a chance to change.”

“I think she looks cute.” You commented stepping closer to Wanda, the young woman opened her eyes slightly while her cheeks burned under the sudden proximity of your face to hers, you offered a wink putting a stray of red hair behind her ear. “She looks all businesslike without being unnecessary fancy.”

Then you turned to face the woman who was looking even less impressed than before, you offered a half-smile stretching your hand to her.

“You must be the mother, Mrs. Maximoff, right?”

The tension was quite palpable, you could teel the woman held a defiant glint that was not about to give under your own stare. The woman returned your smile, though hers was colder, calculating.

“Ah, this must be the girlfriend,” Natalya delivered each word with surgical precision, her eyes slightly opened with a glint of intelligence that actually made you smile. The woman lifted a brow before centring her attention on Wanda who seemed frozen in place. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Wanda?”

“You must be the mother, Mrs. Maximoff, right?” You didn’t give Wanda time to answer, stepping forward your hand stretched out. “I’m Y/N, the girlfriend, pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Maximoff.”

Pietro chortled, putting hand on his mouth to cover his laughter, Natalya lifted her other brow and her lips twitched. She grabbed your hand with the same care, and reluctance as one would do when picking up a dirty napkin. Kate opened her eyes, while Eleanor was smirking at the audacity of this newcomer who really didn’t know Natalya at all. Wanda was just about ready to bolt, or throw up, she hadn’t decided yet.

“Unfortunately, I can’t say the same, I have always had high hopes for Wanda to choose her partners properly,” Nataly pursed her lips trying to walk past you, but you stepped in her way never losing your smile, “but I guess you will do. For now.”

Your eyebrows went up, and then you started laughing, shaking your head, surprising not only Natalya but everyone else. You winked at the older woman, tilting your head before turning to Wanda making sure your eyes locked with those green pupils that were a storm of fears and uncertainties at the moment.

“I can see where Wanda got her wit, her intelligence, and her looks…” You said grabbing Wanda’s hand in a gentle gesture, Wanda was tempted to pull away but she knew her mother was glancing their every movement. Then, you turned back to Natalya, never losing your smile though your eyes hardened, “…from her father, Mr. Lerhnsherr. You don’t seem to have a good sense of humour, Mrs. Maximoff.”

Wanda opened her mouth, her eyes opening wide while Pietro put a hand on his mouth and Kate put her hand on her forehead. It was Eleanor the one who saved the day by stepping closer, laughing lightly, her hand placing firmly on Natalya’s arm, squeezing lightly in a silent warning to the older woman.

“She sure has fire in her, smart, witty, and certainly not afraid of you, Natalya. The perfect partner for your daughter.” Eleanor winked at you before giving a quick warning to Wanda that, up until that point had been silent.

“Mother, this is Y/N.” Wanda offered a tiny smile, but everything in her posture and expression seemed rehearsed, and even if she was trying to sound chirp her voice remained taut.

It took you but a second, but you stood by Wanda’s sight intertwining your hand with hers and giving her a comforting squeeze. Kate was standing away from the group, at that moment she couldn’t determine if her actions would turn out in something positive; everything was so uncertain Kate could only hope.

Eleanor started talking with Natalya guiding the other woman inside the house while Pietro started laughing high-fiving Y/N before giving her a huge hug and talking animatedly with her. Wanda was still standing, trembling under the cold wind of the afternoon; Kate stepped closer to her timidly typing on her shoulder.

“Peny for your thoughts?” Kate winced when Wanda turned to her with a hint of anger and tiredness in her eyes. “Wanda…”

“I hope this really works.” Her voice trembled by the end; she shook her head and was about to leave when a hand wrapped around hers.

Wanda turned sharply only to find herself a breath away from you.

“Look, I don’t like this any more than you, but…” You trailed off pressing your lips together before shrugging, “…let me help. I promise I will be in my best behaviour.”

“That means no munchies or inappropriate touching with my sister.” Pietro wagged his finger teasingly; you snorted rolling your eyes while Wanda looked almost panicked at the idea.

Kate stepped forward, “no funny business, we swear, Wands. It’s just…”

“I mean, you will have to kiss me, eventually.” You said putting a hand on your chin thoughtfully, “or else…”

“Yes, it can’t be that convincing.” Pietro agreed laughing when Wanda was looking really out of place trying to speak.

“N-no..ye-no! I what? Kiss?”

Kate shot you and Pietro a warning glare, she wrapped her arms around Wanda trying to calm her down while Wanda closed her eyes feeling a headache coming over.

“Wands, please…it’s only for a couple of days, but if you want we can finish this right now.” Kate whispered, stepping back.

“I am not…I…” Wanda finally dared to look at you, understanding crossing her eyes while her heart skipped a beat at the sight of your carefree smile.

“Mate, the way you dealt with mother…I have never seen anyone come at her the way you did.” Pietro finally said, patting your back, “that was amazing. I love my mother, but she can be…”

“Intense?” You helped him out when he trailed off, he smiled sheepishly.

“A nightmare.” Pietro lifted his hands when Wanda glared at him. “You know it’s true. And she is especially vicious to you, so at least I know Y/N won’t let her get to you while we are in the celebrations of my wedding.”

Wanda put a hand on her face; she tried to get her thoughts organized to find a solution to her problems. But all she found was darkness, and emptiness. A sudden wave of warmness engulfed her back and arms, she lowered her hand finding herself in front of you once more, your white shirt and black tie completely visible, while your black jacket rested on Wanda’s shoulders.

“Nothing will happen that you won’t allow me to do, Maximoff.” You stated sharply, “I am here as a favour to Kate, so we can play the part, or I can leave.”

“I already told you, didn’t I?” Wanda clenched her jaw; she took a deep breath grabbing your hands in her dragging you inside the house. “Let’s pretend.”

The moment your feet touched the inside of the house you knew you were entering a different world.

Everything inside the Stacy Manor was out of this world. It wasn’t so much that everything looked expensive, but that everything seemed to hold onto a piece of history and tradition you had only seen in movies or magazines.

Hell, even Stark's house held a corner in which you could tell half the stuff in there was inherited instead of bought.

“Close your mouth, it's as if you have never been to a house before.” Wanda whispered beside you, rolling her eyes when you distracted yourself with the wooden model of a spider that had strange markings on it.

“Oh, sorry, Maximoff, but this is the first time I entered a house where half the stuff seemed to be trophies from the colonies.” You whispered back pointing to a large mask with tribal designs decorated with red and black wood. “That looks like a traditional Maasai Mask! A real one!”

“How do you know…?” Wanda started shaking her head letting go of your hand to gesture with her hands. 

“I know my history! Well, history! Look at that! Is that a museum tag?” You crossed the hall to glance at the metal tag under the mask. “See? Maasai.”

“Stop acting like…” Wanda trailed off pressing her lips together, you smirked at her.

“Like I have never seen a real one outside of a museum? I haven't. I was raised by wolves.” You snorted walking towards Wanda. “Flash news, Maximoff, I have only seen them in a museum not a house.”

Wanda snorted, turning towards the hall leading to the backyard.

“Well hopefully you have seen cutlery and plates outside of a museum and you show some manners during dinner.” Wanda remarked, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness matched by an exaggerated terse smile.

You feigned a posh laughter, rolling your eyes at her, “Oh, my sweet, precious, and quite adorable Wanda Bear, I was raised by wolves but educated by humans, so I learnt how to use the silver spoons.”

“What a sweet deal Kate got me, bad puns, and pure sarcasm for a girlfriend.” Wanda scoffed trying to move past the main hall towards the entrance leading.

“Hey! I am a sweet deal! You just don’t know how to appreciate me without a couple of drinks on and…” You trailed off lifting your hands in the air, never losing your smile, you stepped closer to Wanda who was shaking a little, one foot taking her back and away from you. “No slaps, Maximoff, we're supposed to be dating not fighting.”

“I’m not going to…I’m… GOD, you are so infuriating!”

You softened slightly watching as Wanda tried to storm off towards the closest hall, but unable to do so knowing they were being expected to make an entrance together. She stopped trembling before turning her sharp, irritated stare towards you.

“Are you coming, Dear?”

“I wish.” You laughed when Wanda opened her mouth, a light blush forming on her cheeks at the obvious innuendo in your comment. “Oh, come on, loosen up, Punkin.”

“Call me that again, and you may have an accidental fall.”

You stood right in front of Wanda surprising her and you at how daring, and how close you decided to stand to her. You could see her green eyes opened wide, her lips quivering a little and whatever weight she had been carrying in the last couple of hours was suddenly back on her stare.

“Come on, Pumpkin,” You smirked at her, Wanda narrowed her eyes grunting annoyedly, “I bet your mother and the rest of your friends are waiting for us.”

Everything Wanda had forgotten for a few minutes while talking and arguing with you came back. She closed her eyes for a moment; her breath caught on her throat when she felt your left arm hooking up with her right arm. When she turned to face you, all she could see was a real smile. Not the infuriating smirk you usually wore when addressing her, or the annoyed one you got whenever you two discuss anything at work.

It was different.

It made her heart flutter lightly; thus, it scared her a little.

“Let go.” Wanda whispered frowning, she tried to pull away but you held her firmly.

“Nu-uh, Wanda Bear, love of my life, Rose to my Jack, remember we need to pretend…” Wanda narrowed her eyes at you pressing her lips together, your winked at her. “Come on, I promise I will behave this time around…”

“God, I hate you.” Wanda all but mumbled grabbing you tightly by the arm, you laughed shrugging.

“Hate you too.”

In all that time, not even once did Wanda nor Y/N noticed the two people watching the interaction from afar. Kate couldn’t shake the frown off of her face, while Pietro was grinning widely with his arms crossed over his chest; there was something there the interaction was so volatile that all bets were on either Wanda killing Y/N, or Y/N actually breaking into Wanda’s stubborn emotional blockage and…

Well, Pietro was not sure. Yet.

“So, this was your idea?” Pietro finally asked, turning to Kate who winced sheepishly.

“Yeah, I am starting to wonder if this was the wisest one…”

“Well, in hindsight they are acting like an old, married couple so…kudos to you?” Pietro wrapped his arm around Kate’s shoulders, the young woman giggled nodding.

“They are, aren’t they?” Kate turned to Pietro chewing on her lower lip, “do you think this was a good idea? I mean, you remember what happened last year on Halloween, and well with your mother and that idiot still bothering her…”

Pietro nodded gravelly looking around the room before turning to Kate.

“I don’t think we will actually know if it is a good idea or not until…well, later.” Pietro let out a heavy sigh. “She is not looking good, you know? I could see the bags and the cloud of pure misery around her.”

“It has been difficult.” Kate mumbled, shrugging, “but you know I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”

“Thank you, Kate.” Pietro nodded, giving away a half-smile. “Come we better join the others; I don’t want to give mother enough time to bother Wanda or Y/N too much.”

*****

The backyard in the Manor had been decorated with a round table that would host 25 guests; your eyebrows went up at the sight of the yard heaters surrounding the set-up alongside the lights illuminating the place to make everything comfortable and quite lively for everyone.

You held Wanda’s arm in yours comfortingly, the moment the both of you stepped into the backyard all eyes were on you. Wanda tensed up, her eyes sweeping around the yard before they found Jessica alone talking to Pietro’s best man. You glanced at Wanda out of the corner of your eyes, hearing the sigh of pure relief that left her lips, the tension leaving her body for a moment.

“Wanda!”

Gwen Stacy wrapped her arms around Wanda, her smile brightening her face up. Wanda relaxed into the embrace, missing the warm on her right arm after you let go to step aside. Gwen stepped back beaming at Wanda before turning to you, her smile never faltered but her eyes squinted with her brows lifting a fraction.

“You are…I remembered you. You were with us at the school meeting and the bar!” Gwen exclaimed turning to you then to Wanda, for a fraction of a second of both you tensed waiting for Gwen to mention Sersi or the slapping incident back at the club. Gwen however went to you hugging you tightly.

“Oh, I can't believe Wanda has someone as cute as you!” 

You chuckled, sighing in relief. “What can I say? It's me who is lucky.”

You locked eyes with Wanda who held herself back from any negative reaction before approaching the both of you.

“Gwen, this is Y/N.” Wanda hesitated before mumbling the next part, “she is my girlfriend.”

You snickered, winking at Gwen, “someday soon I hope she can say that without looking so pained.”

Gwen giggled mock scolding at Wanda.

“Wanda, that's not nice.” You wiggled your eyebrows to the redhead, before turning back to Gwen. 

“Well, Y/N I'm glad you could make it in such a short notice. We were surprised that Wands here did have a date and, oh God, I'm sorry we tried to pair her up with Victor, and that…”

You kind of disconnected for a moment, though Gwen was holding your hand babbling away until a black-haired girl approached you smiling. Wanda stirred on her spot, and you could see those eyes glancing around anxiously before she grabbed her mobile and started typing. 

“Gwen, let the poor woman go.” Jessica came to you stretching her band for you to take, she was looking at you with a hint of curiosity and something else you couldn’t pinpoint at the moment.

“I'm Jessica and I'm so happy to finally meet you.”

“Happy to finally meet Pumpkin's friends.”

You laughed whereas Gwen and Jessica giggled at the look of pure horror that crossed Wanda’s face at the nickname.

“Oh, Pumpkin, don’t look so horrified. You know you like it, you never complain.” You said winking at Wanda who narrowed her eyes at you, you turned to the other women. “Of course, it is kinda hard to complain when you ufffgh…”

“Dear, sweetie, if you finish that sentence, you will be in the doghouse for a year.” The fake sweetness didn't go amiss to you, but it seemed for Gwen and Jessica it was part of the couple's banter they had never seen Wanda act out.

You chuckled, placing a kiss on Wanda’s cheek, the young woman tensed her breath caught on her throat.

“Sorry, Wands, it's just you make it easy to mess with you.”

You winced when Gwen squealed, putting a hand to her mouth, the sheer happiness in her friends’ faces was enough to put Wanda at ease. In that moment Wanda could see how honest they were in their reactions; how happy they were to see Wanda had finally brought someone to their meetings. For a brief moment her heart stopped twisting painfully in her chest knowing she wasn’t only lying to them, she was also living a lie. She had been living a lie for so long, she actually didn’t remember the time in which she allowed herself to be free. To meet other people. To let others get close to her, to let herself love and be loved.

“Hey, you okay?” You whispered furrowing your brows, Wanda blinked a couple of times noticing they were alone with Gwen greeting Pietro and Jessica now engaged in a hug and conversation with Kate.

“You don’t need to pretend all the time, Y/N.” Wanda replied, stepping back, looking everywhere but at you.

“I’m not pretending, Maximoff, you were just…” You trailed off shrugging, “never mind, come let’s join the others and get this night over with.”

Diner itself was quite uneventful.

You couldn’t help the surprised in your facial expressions whenever they brought food, or people around the table started talking about the wedding itself. In all this time, you could feel Natalya’s eyes on you, while Wanda seemed to be in another world always focused on her phone with frustration and sadness coming out of her whenever she grabbed her mobile.  You tried to play the part, crossing stares with Kate, you sneaked your hand around a couple of times only to have Wanda tensed squeezed you tightly before letting go and going back to her phone.

At some point it was getting frustrating, and you decided to stop trying.

In all that time, Gwen also made sure you were included in the conversation and the introductions. You got to meet every single member of the wedding entourage, all but one. Jessica offered an apologetic smile pointing to the empty spot by her right side.

“Jarvis is working, right now he got a good deal and has to entertain his clients. I am dying for you to meet him.” Jessica said beaming, “I know he will be happy to know Wanda is finally dating with someone, he has been worried about her.”

You held back your face’s response, grabbing the glass of wine and drinking some before speaking.

“Has he? Why is that?” Your question came lightly, and Jessica giggled putting a hand on your forearm.

“Oh, they have been best friends since high school, and since all of us are getting married and she has never brought a boyfriend…” Jessica opened her eyes wide in panic. “Or...or girlfriend. I mean, we never thought…”

“It’s okay, she told me you guys didn’t know about me. Or her preferences.” You eased the other woman; Wanda dropped her phone furrowing her brows noticing for the first time you were speaking with Jessica.

“Did I miss something?” She asked grabbing her wine, Jessica shook her head leaving the fork on the table.

“Oh, not really, I was telling Y/N that my Jarvis is working, and that he has been worried about you and that you two have been best friends since high school.”

Jessica turned to the other side to answer a question, and you have enough time to see Wanda’s eyes twitching, her brows knitting together. You snorted lifting a brow.

“I remembered him.” You all but whispered to her. “He is the arsehole from last year. So, best friends?”

Wanda turned sharply to you, her body trembling lightly only to have her heart dropped at the sight of your serious face. There was a hint of knowledge and understanding she hated seeing reflected in your eyes, in the way you spoke to her.

“You better start acting better, Wands, your mother has not stop looking at us through the dinner.” It was all you said, hesitating before leaning in and kissing her cheek. “You should leave the phone alone.”

Wanda tightened her hold on her phone, you merely offered a tiny smile leaned back and turned your attention to Gwen who was speaking excitedly.

“Oh, Y/N since you will be in the wedding entourage, well…I am not sure of your preferences, but I guess you will look so pretty in the tuxedo Pietro chose for his groomsmen.” Gwen was bouncing on the chair; you chuckled leaning back.

“Oh, she will look just fine.” Kate said earning a glare from Wanda, while Pietro wiggled his brows at you.

“What do you say, Wands? Will your sweet pumpkin look hot in a tuxedo?” Pietro leaned in, Kate hid her smiled behind her glass of water while Wand looked as a deer caught in the headlights when all eyes turned to her.

“She will look…” Here Wanda trailed off turning to you squinting her eyes, and you knew right there and then that the young woman was trying to imagine you in a tuxedo. Her cheeks dusted pink, she cleared her throat offering a shaking smile to the table.

“She would look nice.” Then as an afterthought, “I am afraid if I said she will look hot I would not hear the end of it afterwards.”

You couldn’t help the grin on your face, dipping your head you puffed out your chest.

“I would look hot, did you hear her?”

The table erupted in laughter while Wanda covered her face and you poked her playfully, everything seemed to be lightened up when Natalya cleared her throat setting her eyes on Wanda.

“A tuxedo on a woman that likes women, how original.” Everyone shifted, Gwen opened her mouth to say something when Natalya spoke once more. “I will expect you have the money to pay such an attire, or is Wanda going to cover the expenses?”

“Mother!” Wanda exclaimed glaring at Natalya. “She is perfectly capable of buying her own stuff, and even if that was not the case, what would be the problem if I gift her the clothes?”

Wanda was trembling, hating the fact everyone was now in the middle of a very old and usually powerplay between herself and her mother. Nataly shrugged, her cold eyes turning to you then to Wanda.

“I worry for you, Wanda. It is clearly your companion may need extra help to fit in.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much, Mrs. Maximoff. I have my own money, and getting this won’t be an issue.” You commented trying to grab Wanda’s hand in yours, but at that moment Wanda’s mobile vibrated and she went to her phone right away.

This gesture didn’t go amiss by the older woman, who narrowed her eyes at you and Wanda.

“Very well, I am just concern.” Natalya stated leaning back.

“I understand, Mrs Maximoff. But there is no need.” Before you could add something else Eleanor asked Gwen something related to the wedding and soon the tension broke and everyone was back, once more, into the topic that reunited them that night.

It didn’t go amiss to Natalya that Wanda was, once more focused on her phone while whispering harshly at you who would just back off and tried to engage in the conversation happening around the table. You went into the conversation quite easily, and at some point Wanda couldn’t help but shot you a quick exasperated stare at how you just engage with everyone while also trying to keep with the act of being her girlfriend. For Wanda it was proving to be quite difficult, more so since she had Jarvis writing nonstop demanding her to leave the dinner and meet with him.

Meanwhile, Gwen and Pietro were quite excited about the final arrangements and the schedule of the dinner, the rehearsal and the actual wedding. The table soon erupted in multiple conversations and you were left, for a brief moment, alone beside Wanda who had been as distant and as upset as she had been as of late in the office.

All in all, you could say that dinner had not been as bad as you thought it would turn out to be, and everyone seemed to have bought the girlfriend act. Everyone but one person, the same one that had her eyes on you and was waiting for the right time. You pretended to not notice, you glance around looking for salvation, you even dared to try and engage Wanda in conversation only to have the redhead dismissed you unaware of what was about to happen.

*****

Nothing could go wrong. This was the thought dancing around Wanda’s head when she decided to pretend. She could get through the night pretending.

Right?

Well, the night was turning out to be normal.

The first thing Wanda noticed was the lack of Jarvis. According to Jessica, he was attending an important business dinner with some foreign client; according to Wanda and the constant influx of messages, he was waiting for her to meet him at the same hotel.

Wanda was not supposed to have him on her phone; she had promised Kate she would block him and end this situation once and for all. But Wanda couldn't do it, and at that moment Jarvis was bombarding her with messages and promises, with the same words he had wiggled his way into her heart to get her to rush to him, consequences be damned.

Wanda felt the weight of the mobile on her hand and her pocket all through the dinner. The vibrations announcing a new message only increased her heartrate, it made her feel dizzy and nauseous detached from what was happening during the dinner while also hyper aware of her mother looking at her and her interaction with her fake girlfriend.

“If you continue like this, you will either faint or throw up. I’m not pretty sure the contract I signed for this covers medical or damage expenses.” You leaned in whispering to Wanda while pretending to fix a lock of hair and while to everyone it seemed a simple gesture, but for Wanda it was another task she needed to check in the long list of obligations in her life.

“You signed a contract?” Wanda shook her head, you chuckled nodding.

“Bishop was very thorough.” You continued evading Wanda’s eyes while focusing on her pale skin, the sweaty hands, and the mobile she had not been able to let go off since they sat at the table.

“So it seems.” Wanda couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice, her posture tense while she tightened her hold on her phone.

You rested your cheek on your right hand, your elbow resting comfortingly on the table while you shot Wanda a calculating stare. How could someone so smart and beautiful look so miserable? Wanda felt the weight of your stare on her, shifting slightly and she turned to you annoyed.

“What?”  

You smirked, “tsk, Pumpkin is that a way to talk to the love of your life?”

“God, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Wanda finally said, letting out a tired sigh. “You’re loving the fact I can’t slap you and do anything about this!”

“Pumpkin,” You laughed when Wanda threw a napkin at you glaring annoyed, “you really should loosen up. You really are missing the point and asking all the wrong questions.”

Wanda scoffed, letting her phone on the table to cross her arms, lifting a single brow she pursed her lips.

“So, according to you, what should I be asking?”

Before you could answer you saw the lone figure of Natalya Maximoff approaching the both of you, the woman’s stride exuded power with her eyes cold and calculating she made sure Wanda was pinned to the chair with her body completely tense. The more you observe the dynamics of mother and daughter, the more you remember the dynamic you discovered last Halloween between Wanda and whatever the guy was to her.

“A lover’s quarrel? And it has not been more than an hour since we met.” Natalya stood in front of you, pursing her lips while inspecting you with her green eyes.

“Mother…” Wanda clamped her mouth shut when Natalya lifted a hand, you raised a brow at the gesture.

“Gonna teach me that?” You winced when Wanda looked daggers at you, “sorry bad joke.”

“It seems you have many of them.” The woman put a chair closer sitting down while crossing her legs, you straightened up well-aware the woman had not taken her eyes off of you and Wanda since you made your appearance.

“Oh, Wanda has me on a leash, you know? Tell me to better hold my tongue so I will make a good impression.”

“You should hear my daughter more often, regardless of her lack of judgement and desire to be better,” Here Natalya turned to Wanda, “she does know and understands how our world works. What we want.”

The backyard filled with the sound of muffled conversations happening all around the dining table, whatever warm and cosy atmosphere you had experienced during dinner was long gone and there was a dark cloud hanging above your head. Natalya smiled with her eyes pinning her daughter, all her attention on the young woman that seemed to give her one disappointment after the other.

“Are you ready to give up, Wanda?” Your brows lifted up, Wanda clenched her jaw lifting her chin towards her mother who narrowed her eyes. “If you could only put this much energy and effort in getting a good man to keep you, and not being a constant disappointment to me, I will be assured that I didn’t fail you by allowing you to destroy your life.”

The woman’s voice held a hint of irritation, but there was mostly anger and disappointment meant to make Wanda feel small. The young woman sat frozen in place, her lower lip quivering while trying to come up with the right words, perhaps with the right retort to what her mother was trying to say.

“You are going to stop this charade, you will pay this woman whatever money you promise, and you will get ready to go with Victor…” Natalya stated slowly, dangerously low towering on Wanda without standing up. “To think you dare to bring her to your brother’s dinner, Wanda, this is getting ridiculous.”

“I think that’s enough.” You said leaning over putting your elbows on your knees cocking your head to make sure the woman couldn’t look away from you after the sudden interruption.

Natalya didn’t look impressed, if anything, she looked even angrier and annoyed. Her attention went back to you, waving her hand with a flourishing gesture.

“Your services will no longer be required; I will pay you double if you leave right now.” Each word was emphasized with a commanding tone that made Wanda winced, you could see the panic in Wanda’s eyes and the tension around you grew while the conversation around the table seemed to increase in volume.

Natalya lifted a brow at you, impatient she opened her mouth to say something else and this time around it was you lifting your hand, open palm, in a gesture meant to stop and shut the older woman up.

“I said that’s enough.” You lifted your chin, your eyes hardening as they focused on the older woman in front of you. “I don’t know why or how you can come to such a conclusion, Mrs. Maximoff, but let me clarify some things to you.”

The older woman hesitated for a fraction of a second, then as soon as the anger and annoyance had shown on her face, it transformed into something else. More dangerous and calculating, Wanda had been alternating her attention between you and her mother, her heart almost giving up while she couldn’t get a grasp of her bodily functions, her thoughts going to dark places just as she clenched her fists trying to control her breathing. 

“Please, clarify these things you speak of.” The older woman spoke slowly, with each of her words measured with the right voice influx to denote her scepticism about you and your role in her daughter’s life. 

“You can’t afford me.” You stated simply going back to put your elbows on your knees offering a half-smile to Natalya. “You really do not have enough money to get me to breakup with Wanda, or to leave her here, alone, with you. There is not a price you can pay me to make me do that.”

Wanda opened her eyes wide, this time around her attention went back to you with her lower lip quivering lightly. 

“Believe me, there is nothing you can offer me that can get me away from her.”

You never turned to look at Wanda, but Natalya had a good glimpse at her reaction and yours- She could see the utter disbelief in Wanda’s face, the relief and then something else, something strange she had never seen in Wanda before. Then, there was you. There was conviction behind your actions and your words, you held Natalya’s stare while holding onto Wanda’s hand in a protective gesture. The older woman was confused, but a part of her had not given into believing this girlfriend and this sudden relationship was nothing more than a setup.

This time around you straightened up grabbing Wanda’s left hand in yours, at first you could sense the tension in Wanda’s hand, the intake of breath while the young woman refrained herself from flinching away from your touch. You offered a gentle smile, then turned back to Natalya who was analysing your interaction with Wanda. 

“Y/N–” Wanda started with her voice trembling, her eyes fluttering close while her body tensed up under the sudden warmth of your body against hers. 

You stood up beside her passing your arm in a protective gesture, but then you knew Kate and Pietro and apparently everyone in the room were looking at you three waiting for whatever it was happening to just explode.

“I was afraid of this.” You said firmly, you didn’t need to speak loudly to make sure everyone was listening to you. “Of coming over and having my intentions with Wanda questioned.”

“So, you were not paid to pretend to be her girlfriend?” Natalya let out an exaggerated sigh standing up, her frame far taller and more intimidating than yours. “My daughter has never shown any interest in women, at least, not in the sexual way. You are telling me all of a sudden she changed her mind?”

“Mother, I can…” Wanda started her voice shaken while she tried to make a gesture with her hands, to make an explanation to her mother’s accurate assumptions. 

You were not sure why you did what you did.

It could be the fact the older woman was looking at her daughter like no mother should, or that you could feel Wanda trembling under your hands or how her voice broke and it was so foreign to you because you were used to her fire and her wit, and she was looking just so meek and miserable. 

You kneeled in front of Wanda, grabbing her hand in yours with your thumb drawing circles on the back of her hand in a slow, soothing motion. Your eyes locked with hers, and while you could see she was utterly confused and panicking, you could also see the glint of helplessness in there. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to let you bring me into your life, I am so sorry, Love.” you softened your features kissing Wanda’s knuckles. “I promise you it will never happen again, I just…wanted to make you happy and now I understand.”

There was no reason for you to explain exactly what you understood of the situation, Wanda could read it in your face and your gestures and your words. Her heart twisted painfully inside her chest, and soon she just sat there, her eyes fluttering closed when her lips found yours in a single, quite innocent peck. 

“I asked Wanda to keep our relationship a secret because I didn’t want anyone thinking I was with her for the money, the name or the position.” Every word leaving your mouth was measured and well-thought of you never left Wanda’s hand and even in that position you made sure Natalya Maximoff had not a single doubt that there was something going on between you and her daughter.

“I am no one.”

“Y/N…” Wanda spoke without thinking, she squeezed your hand furrowing her brows but you just smiled gently.

“I am.” You chuckled. “My last name is as common as they come, and I do not have a family history, nor do I have paraphernalia from the colonies in my living room.”

Here Wanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes letting out a breathy laugh, you winked at her kissing her hand once more.

“I am just smart. I have a good job. And I care for Wanda.” You stepped forward, your shoulders back and head tilted defiantly. “I really don’t care what you think of me, but you won’t be talking to Wanda the way you just did, you are not going to continue setting her up with some arsehole just because you think it is the proper thing, we are in the middle of the Twenty-First century, Mrs. Maximoff, not the Middle Ages, so you better back off.”

The room stood frozen in time.

Gwen and Jessica interchanged stares, while Kate had hers wide open with a hand on her mouth and Pietro was looking torn between being mad at you for treating his mother that way and being proud at you for standing up to his mother and protecting Wanda in that way. Wanda from her part was just awestruck, your words, your protectiveness…her heart fluttered strangely when you helped her up from the chair. 

“Gwen, it was a pleasure to meet you, I do apologize for my behaviour right now.” You said glancing at the blond-haired woman who was just nodding shocked. “I promised you I will be on my best behaviour next time, now if you excused us, I would like to make sure my GIRLFRIEND has a good night.”

You announced making a good emphasis on the word girlfriend, Wanda didn’t even hesitate to take your hand to help her up from the chair. It took her a moment, but Wanda finally composed herself, straightened herself up while intertwining her hand with yours, making you break the facade with the surprise that showed on your face.

“Mother, I don’t want to fight with you, I don't want to make this about me or my relationship.” Wanda was trying to make her mother understand, she found herself looking into her mother's eyes trying to find the same affection and understanding Natalya showed Pietro whenever he wanted to follow his heart.

But there was nothing there, not a single glimpse of understanding or love. Just reproach, annoyance and disappointment.

Natalya nodded briefly, well aware that all the presents were now waiting for her to give her verdict on the situation. The older woman turned to you, her lips curling slightly though you could read the scepticism in her, the calculation of something she wasn't speaking of yet. Without too much effort, Natalya stood up putting two fingers under her daughter’s chin and lifted her face.

“Wanda, stop slouching and don't cry, dear, what I did, I did it out of love for your well-being. I wouldn't want anyone taking advantage of your innocence and naivety.” Natalya spoke slowly, as if talking to a child. “I hope you know what you are doing. Make sure she is well-dressed for the wedding.” 

“Don't worry, Mrs. Maximoff, I will make sure to be well-trained for the event.” You replied cheekily, Natalya narrowed her eyes at Pietro who was laughing and soon the tension broke and conversation was back. 

You stood beside Wanda watching Natalya join Eleanor who was shaking her head pursing her lips to her friend. 

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered, her voice shaking a little.

“You want to leave?” You asked her, seeing the young woman seemed to be shaken up.

“I came with Kate, and…” Wanda trailed off when she found herself looking at you.

“I am offering, Wands, do you wanna go?” 

Wanda offered a crooked smile, “yes.”

Wanda was saying goodbye to Pietro and Gwen while you went to Kate. The young woman had her face in a rictus of faux smiles, trying to pretend everything was alright but wanting to smack you and hug you at the same time.

“Hey, don't worry, I promise to behave and take her home.” You said chuckling when Kate made a sound at the back of her throat before slapping your arm playfully.

“God! You are taking advantage that I can't say much without being too obvious.” Kate crossed her arms, pouting.

“God! You rich pampered women are impossible.”

You snickered when Kate poked you playfully on your abdomen before wrapping her arms around you.

“Take care of her?”

“Yeah, I'm taking her home, no naughty business.”

“As if, Wanda will smack you.”

“That doesn't sound so bad.”

“Are you two quite done?” Kate jumped back waving her hands around with her cheeks taking into a nice shade of red.

“Wanda! You…we…”

You rolled your eyes patting Kate on the back before drawing soothing circles like one would do to a baby. 

“Okay, Bishop, no need to get your knickers in a twitch.”  

Wanda huffed, crossing her arms, “can we go?”

There were eyes on them, people around had started talking, and while Natalya Maximoff was still doubting the veracity of their relationship, she couldn't afford to make a mistake while approaching this topic. 

Natalya would need a new strategy.

“Sure Pumpkin,” you smirked when Wanda’s left eye twitched.

The car drive was done in silence.

There was no music, and the streets of London soon brought the noise of the nomal life in one of the busiest cities in the world. It was a cold night, with not a single cloud in the sky but with a cold wind announcing the oncoming winter. The tension inside your vehicle was strange, to say the least. There was a white elephant hanging around, but Wanda refused to acknowledge it, and you were too tired to even pay it any mind.

The sound of an object vibrating made your eyes flickered to Wanda’s lap. The young woman hesitated before grabbing her mobile, unlocking it and reading the message there. Her hand trembled, her lips parted, exhaling some air before she placed her hand on her eyes.

You pressed your lips together with a frown in place, your hands grabbing the wheel turning the car to the street leading to Wanda’s and Kate's flat.

“Are you okay?” You finally asked, trying to sound casual.

Wanda was looking out of the window, the phone forgotten on her lap. She remained silent, and for a moment you thought she would not answer but then her voice filled the car and you were left confused.

“Thank you for what you did today.” Her voice was shaken; it was barely a whisper. “You were not the person I was waiting for, but even after how I behaved with you…you helped me today. So, thank you, Y/N.”

Your eyebrows went up while your lips twitched lightly. You cleared your throat looking out of the corner of your eye to the young woman sitting beside you, but she was firmly focused on the landscape outside your car window.

“I have to ask, are you alright?” 

This time around Wanda snorted turning to you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She opened her mouth, then closed it again chewing on her lower lip while wiggling her hands.

“My relationship with my mother is complicated.” Every word came with a memory, tiredness marking her narration without facing you but glancing into the empty space in front of her.

“She can be difficult, but I guess she means well.”

“The fact that you call her mother tells me just how complicated the relationship is.” You pursed your lips shaking your head. “And the fake girlfriend trope…”

“There is this guy, Victor Von Doom.” Wanda nodded, noticing your expression of surprise and recognition of the name. “I see that you've heard of him.”

“Obviously.”

“Well, he is trying to get into business with my dad and Uncle Charles.” Wanda closed her eyes leaning back on the chair. “Mother dreams of me being married, tied to a man that can tame my unruly nature to make me into a proper society lady.”

“Of which century?”

That earned you a small smile, Wanda shrugged.

“Preferable with a man of her choice.” Wanda finished chuckling at the face of pure horror you had on. 

“You rich people and your archaic ways.” You parked the car in front of Wanda’s building, turning to face the young woman you couldn't help the teasing glint in your eyes or the half-smile on your face, “You know? This is the first time we have had a real conversation since last year?”

Wanda stiffened, her lips tight into a grimace. You leaned back on the car seat tapping the wheel, while ignoring the fact Wanda’s phone was vibrating once more.

“You can't even fathom what you did that day, what you destroyed.” There was no bite behind her words, only tiredness and uncertainty.

People walked past their car, the security guard standing by the gates of the building speaking with one resident. Life continued as if nothing had happened that night, the big picture of a world that could not see the two women facing up a storm while sitting inside the car. 

“You didn't look happy that day, you are not looking happy at all right now.” You remarked softly, without turning to Wanda. “I'm pretty sure the one keeping your phone so active today was the man absent from the party, Jarvis, right?”

“I don't want to talk about this, and certainly I won't discuss this with you.” Wanda bristled, grabbing her phone and the door handle, “thank you for today. But I won’t be requiring your…wh-what are you doing?”

Wanda sat frozen when your hand closed around hers, the contact was warm and comforting sending a shiver down her back, before it twisted her abdomen and finally made her heart flutter. Your face was a mask of pure seriousness, those eyes that usually held a glint of mischief or unconcerned gone as your eyes found those of Wanda.

“Stop being so stupid and prideful.” Your voice was firm, but gentle. “I will keep playing my part now that I understand why Kate was so concerned about you. I won't ask anymore about your situation with that arsehole you were with last year, but to me it is evident you need help.”

“And what? You are going to help? Be my shoulder to cry on? Pretend to get into my pants to…”

“Stop it.” You commanded, this time around your eyes were inflamed with anger. “Don't flatter yourself, Maximoff, you are beautiful but I am not attracted to you, you are not my type and certainly I wouldn't even entertain the idea of being with someone like you.”

Your words hurt.

Wanda wouldn't admit it right there and then, but her heart stopped beating and then it actually shrank in pain. The young woman tried to offer a defiant stance but she could feel her lower lip quivering, you sighed closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again.

“Look, I was as fucked up as you are right now. We all are at some point. But what makes a difference is if we look for help.” You hesitated before grabbing your phone, with a quick sequence of tapping you sent her a message that soon was making Wanda’s phone vibrate. 

Wanda frowned confused, you went back to your seat.

“When you decide you have hit rock bottom, call him.” 

“What…”

“I am not qualified to help you, and you just said you don't want my help even if I was.” You said softly. “He is good, and he helped me at some point. It is your choice, Wanda.”

Wanda left without saying goodbye, and you waited until she was safely inside the building before igniting the gear and driving away.

The flat was dark and cold, Wanda sat on the sofa with her eyes on her mobile. For a brief moment she entertained the idea of just turning it off and leaving, but her hand twitched and she grabbed it again. This time around, however, instead of going to her conversation with Jarvis, she went to chat with you.

For the first time ever, she paid close attention to your picture, your grin while wearing a gladiator helmet with a redhead standing behind you smiling as well. Wanda couldn’t help but match the smile, you looked so childishly happy, as if you had done a great deed wearing an oversized metal helmet meant for a roman soldier and not a woman of your size.

Then, her gaze drifted to the message.

Doctor Robert Reynolds DipPsych - Sentry Institute

Another message.

Wanda could see the beginning of Jarvis' demands; he was still adamant on Wanda meeting with him that day. The young woman could feel her resolution breaking, her heart and body needing the comfort and the control Jarvis usually had over her. Closing her eyes Wanda put a hand on her mouth holding back a sob.

She hesitated before leaving the phone on the coffee table, standing up and going to her room the events of that night, your words dancing inside her head. The last thing she thought as she was falling asleep was that, pretending with you had not been so bad at all.

______________________________________________________________

Next chapter: Wanda and Reader get to meet one another. Jarvis is startig to get desperate. The first real fire trial comes in the form of a Golf tournament, and Wanda decides she needs help.

[katehopecore]

Hi! Can I request a Wanda x masc!female reader where Wanda owns a bookstore and reader is the masc lesbian always loitering in her store. I would love for it to give TOTAL grumpy x sunshine or like suave x nervous wreck energy (I think that’s a thing, but I’m probably not explaining it right lol) thank you! 🧡

you got me (head over heels for you)

˚‧ ɞwanda maximoff x masc lesbian!reader

now playing: ꒰you got me // the aces꒱

˚‧ ɞ𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Wanda isn’t the type to get crushes. But for attractive and charming masc lesbians who loiter in her bookstore, she might just make an exception

˚‧ ɞ𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: FLUFF, MAJOR grumpy x sunshine vibes, reader is a masc lesbian, gay panic, a pietro cameo, wanda not knowing how to flirt back, YEARNING, 2.8k words

˚‧ ɞ𝐚/𝐧: FINALLY managed to write something after nearly three weeks of writers block 🫠 i don’t know quite if my block is cured yet, but managed to get some wanda fluff out of it, so i can’t be that mad. thank you for this request and i hope you enjoy! <3

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Wanda loved her bookstore the same way most people loved their pets: a living thing with a beating heart and feelings that Wanda would protect with her life and maybe even die for. Maybe that sounded dramatic, but she didn’t care.

Wanda loved everything about her bookstore, from the uneven wood floors that creaked in the same places everyday, to the one leaky window that always seemed to drip when it rained no matter how often she got the roof repaired. She loved how the smell of espresso always drifted in from the tiny cafè corner that she’d fought tooth and nail to include when she bought the place two years ago.

Most of all, Wanda loved the people her bookstore attracted.

Her bookstore sat tucked between a vintage record shop and a plant store, and the plaza was just off a college campus. Which meant that Wanda spent most days surrounded by artsy college students with obscure majors and even more obscure fashion choices. Wanda’s seen it all: patchwork sweaters in the middle of July, chunky boots with tiny silver charms tied to the laces, and rings. They all loved oodles and oodles of rings. Wanda always felt like an outlier with her basic outfits, which typically consisted plain long sleeves and a skirt with tights every day.

And yet somehow, everyone was always so painfully polite. Everyone always cleaned up after themselves, they’d tell Wanda “thank you so much” at the end of their transactions. And the tip jar at the cafè counter was always flooded with $1 and $5 dollar bills.

The bookstore has become a strange little haven for people who lingered. Students typing away at essays in the corner, couples sharing headphones in the poetry aisle, someone inevitably curled into the armchair near the window pretending to read whilst actually sneaking a nap in. (Wanda totally got it. Though she’d never enrolled, she could imagine college was exhausting)

But there was one returning customer who was the biggest question mark to Wanda. And when the bell above the door chimes, yanking Wanda from her thoughts, her eyes lift from the register to see that very question mark walking through the door. You.

Something in Wanda’s chest betrayed her instantly, a familiar little flutter she absolutely refused to examine too closely. You stood in the doorway wearing a dark bomber jacket over a white tank top, rings glittering beneath the afternoon sunlight spilling through the windows. Your hair looked a little messy, purposefully wind-tossed, and a pair of sunglasses the same color as your jacket are tucked into the collar of your tank top.

You glance up the moment you step inside, smiling the second your eyes lock onto Wanda. It wasn’t even a big smile. Just a small tug at the corner of your mouth, but it was debilitating enough that Wanda immediately looked back down at the open book in front of her like she hadn’t noticed it, or you, at all.

Of course Wanda made it a point to greet every customer who walked through the doors, a rehearsed chirp of, “Hi, welcome in!” ready on her lips. But it’s like you were the one anomaly. Every time she tried to greet you, she’d get tongue-tied, those three stupid words suddenly impossible to say.

Wanda follows you with her eyes as you step into the cafè, and she also notes how the barista Sammy blushes immediately the second you’re at the counter. Wanda supposed you just had that effect on people.

“You know,” Pietro, Wanda’s twin brother who actually was enrolled at the university down the street and, much like the other college kids, also came into Wanda’s bookstore to loiter, suddenly appears to Wanda’s right. “One of these days, you’ll have to swallow your pride and just ask for her number,”

Wanda slammed the book shut in front of her. “I don’t want her number.”

“Right. And I don’t come in here just to eat all the chocolate chip cookies in the cafè,” her brother teases with a roll of his eyes.

Wanda’s brows furrow. “Yes you do, Pietro. You’ve said before that there’s crack in those cookies—“

“I know, Wanda. I was being sarcastic. Thank you for proving my point,” Pietro barks a laugh.

Wanda’s cheeks flare even hotter, making her curse her nervous system. “She’s just another customer,” she argues.

“Just another customer who comes in here five days a week at minimum,” Pietro counters. “Just another customer who buys exactly one coffee and then spends three hours wandering around and pretending not to stare at you,”

Wanda frowns down at the register. “She does not stare at me,” she mumbles. Though what she doesn’t say is that she can’t even count on her two hands just how many times she’s caught you staring. And she definitely can’t count how many times those stares had given her butterflies.

Before Pietro could tell Wanda she was full of shit, your cologne reached the checkout counter before you did, your boots sounding on the hardwood a moment later.

“Afternoon, Maximoff,” you greet Wanda warmly, then nod in Pietro’s direction. “What’s up, Pietro? That sub professor in German 2 today was weird, right?”

“Total weirdo,” Pietro agrees with a shake of his head. Wanda glares daggers at her twin, a look that says ‘you never told me you had a class with her!’ And Pietro smiles back with a shit-eating grin that replies, ‘You never asked’. Wanda continues to glare at Pietro’s retreating back as he walks away.

Wanda turns back to face you to find you already grinning at her. She ignores the way that her stomach flips in response. “It’s 2:30,” are the first brilliant words out of her mouth.

“That it is,” you say before bringing your coffee cup to your lips for a sip. “Aren’t you observant,”

Wanda huffs. “My point is that you typically come around noon,” she says. “What, find a better bookstore than mine?”

Your eyebrows lifted, followed by a slow grin that spreads across your face. “Didn’t realize you were keeping tabs on me, Maximoff,”

Heat crawled up Wanda’s next instantly. “I am not keeping tabs on you!” she defended quickly. “I just happen to have memorized the comings and goings of my customers. Plus, I know how much you like to loiter, so you coming in at two-thirty only gives you six hours of loitering instead of eight…” she trails off, wincing. What the hell was she even talking about? Pietro snickers from somewhere inside the stockroom, definitely having heard his sister’s rambling, and Wanda makes a mental note to kill him with her bare hands later.

When Wanda risks a glance back in your direction, your small smirk has transformed into a full-blown grin. “So, you’re saying you missed me?” you ask, leaning your elbows on the counter.

“I am saying no such thing.”

“Mm,” you nodded thoughtfully, clearly not absorbing what Wanda just said. “Interesting.”

Wanda points an accusatory finger at you. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you chuckle.

“That thing where you decide what I mean instead of listening to the words I’m actually saying.”

“Well, in my literature class, the professor is always going on and on about how we should pay attention to hidden meanings, so that’s what I’m doing here,”

Wanda folds her arms across her chest. “Fine, so what exactly is the hidden meaning here?” She challenges.

You don’t answer at first, but your smile goes a little soft, and Wanda’s heart starts to sound like a drum-line in her chest. The atmosphere dissipates completely when Pietro calls from the other room, telling Wanda that a customer on the phone wants to speak to her. When Wanda returns from the phone call however, you’re gone, and she’s completely blindsided by the visceral feeling of disappointment she feels. She also can’t shake the image of that soft smile she’d seen on your face.

***

The next day, you didn’t show up right around noon like you always did. Wanda told herself she’d only noticed your absence because the bookstore was unusually quiet; much less foot traffic than there usually was on a weekday afternoon. But then, you didn’t come in the next day either. Or the day after that.

Every tiny bell chime tugged Wanda’s attention upward before she could stop herself. But it was always just another cool-dressed college kid. Every laugh from outside made something hopeful spark in Wanda’s chest. But it was never you.

Wanda didn’t care. She couldn’t. So what if you stopped coming in? People drifted in and out of the bookstore all the time. College kids graduated. They got new routines, new cafès, new favorite haunts. Wanda had seen it happen before. It didn’t matter. That’s what she told herself anyway.

She threw herself into work instead. She reorganized the fantasy section that was constantly in a state of disarray, brought order back to the Funko Pop display, even vacuumed the stockroom, which was the only part of the bookstore that still had carpet for some reason. She did anything she could to avoid thinking about the fact that a certain girl with windswept hair and an affinity for clunky statement jewelry hadn’t shown her face in the past few days.

By the fifth consecutive day, Wanda almost asked Pietro if he’d seen you around campus. Which was humiliating, because that would require admitting she cared at all. And Pietro would never let her live it down. But Pietro had a way of knowing that Wanda was thinking about asking it anyway.

“If you’re worried about your girlfriend—“ Pietro starts.

“She is not my girlfriend,” Wanda interjected.

“Well, if you’re worried about the girl who’s not your girlfriend, but whom I know you’re attracted to,” Pietro amends his statement. “She’s not dead or anything. She’s been in German 2 every day this week. She just hasn’t been coming here,”

Wanda ignores the sting she feels. So you were safe, you just…what? Found a new bookstore? Didn’t want to see Wanda anymore?

Not that you were seeing her at all. Not that Wanda cared if she ever saw you again. Wanda fights to stay aloof, managing a cool nod in response to Pietro’s news. “Okay. Great,” she says. “I’m glad she is safe.”

Pietro looks at Wanda, an annoyingly sympathetic expression on his face. “I’m sorry, Wands. I don’t know why she’s stopped coming here. I guess I could ask her the next time I see her in class—“

“No.” Wanda snaps. “You will do no such thing, Pietro. But what you can do is stay out of my business, alright?”

Wanda doesn’t wait for Pietro to answer. Turning away from him, she grabs the stack of books off the register, and storms off to put them back on the shelf.

Wanda finds herself in the romance section, because of course she does. Her brain is on autopilot as she puts each book back where it goes. The last book in her hands catches her attention. It’s a sapphic romance, an art design of two girls holding hands on the cover. Wanda stares for a long time at the dark-haired girl with tattoos depicted on the left side, and suddenly she’s thinking of an attractive smile and a bomber jacket. Wanda clears her throat and shoves the book back on the shelf.

This was ridiculous. Wanda didn’t get crushes. She didn’t get weird and gooey about people. She was better off alone. Her stomach was wrong. Her heart was even more wrong. Wanda can’t flee the romance aisle fast enough.

***

It has now been two weeks since Wanda had last seen you in her bookstore. You would think that after fourteen full days, her body would stop reacting. That eventually she’d stop glancing up every time the bell above the door chimed. That the tiny spark of hope in her chest would finally die out instead of reigniting over and over and over again. But it never did. Every single time the door opened, Wanda’s stupid heart still leapt before her brain could catch up. And every time it wasn’t you, the feeling fizzled out just as quickly, leaving behind something hollow and embarrassing.

It was pathetic. Especially because Wanda still didn’t even know why you’d stopped coming. Maybe you found another cafè. Maybe you got bored of flirting with the awkward bookstore owner who could barely string a sentence together around you.

It had been a slow day from start to finish, and by the time closing rolled around, Wanda had already sent everyone else home. Now it was just Wanda alone behind the register, counting the tills and organizing receipts. The silence is broken by the bell chime of the door.

“We’re closing in ten minutes,” Wanda called automatically without looking up.

“That’s okay,” a familiar voice said warmly. “I only need one thing.”

Wanda’s heart did something fizzy in her chest. Her head snapped up so fast, she nearly gave herself whiplash. And there you were.

Rain droplets dappled the shoulders of your dark jacket and the ends of your hair were damp too like you narrowly escaped the downpour. You shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, and gave Wanda a cheeky smile. And just like that, two miserable weeks of pretending she didn’t care evaporated.

Something must’ve shown on Wanda’s face because your expression softened almost immediately. “There she is,” you murmur quietly.

Wanda realized, distantly, that she was staring. “You just disappeared,” she blurts before she can stop herself. Your eyebrows lifted, and Wanda wanted to throw herself directly into traffic. “I mean…” she backpedals. “You-you haven’t come in and Pietro said classes were still in session, so I thought maybe—“

Your expression melted into something so unbearably fond that it made Wanda’s stomach flip. “You noticed I was gone, huh?” you ask.

Wanda crosses her arms defensively even as heat rushes to her cheeks. “Well, you loiter in my store for eight hours a day. It would’ve been difficult not to notice your absence,”

You chuckle, stepping closer to the counter. “I missed you too, Maximoff,”

Up close, Wanda notices two things about you: that you have the prettiest eyes she’s ever seen…and that you look exhausted. Something tugs in her chest.

“So where were you?” she asks before she can stop herself. She’s hoping more than anything that you’re not about to mention a longtime girlfriend that you’ve been spending all your time with.

“My mom was in the hospital,” you admit softly, scratching at the back of your neck. “She’s okay now. It was just…a rough couple weeks.”

Oh. Instant guilt crashes into Wanda so hard it nearly makes her dizzy. All this time she’d been spiraling, thinking you’d just gotten bored of her when you’d been dealing with something so real. Was she really that much of drama queen?

Your smile suddenly turns sheepish. “I kept meaning to come by, but things got kinda crazy, both with my mom and with classes,”

Wanda suddenly doesn’t know what to do with herself or her nervous energy. You hadn’t been avoiding her. You’d wanted to see her all this time, you were just busy dealing with a sick mother and ruthless college classes. Wanda steps out from behind the counter to talk to you, and is struck immediately by the height difference. You were a good four inches taller, to the effect that Wanda had to tilt her head a bit to meet your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, that all sounds really stressful,” Wanda says. “But I’m glad your mom is okay now,”

“Yeah,” you smile. “Me too. Now, I can spend more time here figuring out a puzzle,”

Wanda frowns. “I don’t sell puzzles here,”

You chuckle. “I know, Maximoff. I meant you,”

Wanda’s heart jolts in her chest. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” you reply, shameless. “I know you’re a little prickly, but I think you’re cute. And I hope you know I’m not gonna stop flirting unless you tell me to back off,”

Wanda swallows hard. “I’m not…good at that, though,” she stammers. “At-at flirting back. I’m not good at it.”

“Yeah, I’ve gathered that,” you laugh. “But don’t worry. I think that’s cute too, and I can definitely work with that,”

“You can?” Wanda asks.

“Yeah,” you say. And then you reach for Wanda’s hand. Your skin is warm against hers, and the touch sends a spark up her entire arm. Wanda relaxes into it, letting her fingers lace with yours.

“Are you hungry at all?” you ask next.

“Starving, actually,” Wanda replies. And she was. All she’d had for sustenance today was a fruit smoothie around six a.m in the morning. And she could finally admit to herself that she’d been thinking of you all day, and that’s why her stomach had been in knots.

“Wanna get out of here? Grab a bite? Actually have a conversation now that you’ve admitted to digging me?” you tease.

Wanda tilts her head. “Did I admit that?” she asks coyly.

You smile down at her. “Well, you haven’t dropped my hand yet, so I think that counts for something,”

Wanda’s smile widens. “Hmm. Well, just let me lock up and I’m yours,”

You wait for Wanda as she locks up her bookstore. When she’s done, her hand finds yours and she lets you lead her to your car. Wanda can’t shake the dopey smile that plays on her lips, and all she can think about is how she’s just so damn glad she finally stopped pretending.

[anki-of-beleriand]

The Best Kept Secrets ch. 7

Summary: Wanda was on the verge of breaking down when she was called to attend her brother's engagement party. Alone and unable to keep up with her mother's expectations she makes a deal with the devil that would lead her to discover a side of her that may either destroy her or bring the happiness she so craves for herself.

Pairing: Female!Reader x Wanda Maximoff - Carol Danvers x Natasha Romanoff - Pietro Maximoff x Gwen Stacy - Jessica Jones x Vision.

Warnings: AU, Modern setting, No powered characters, cheating, idiots in love, unrequite/requited love, jealousy, drama, angst, broken hearts, homophobia, enemies to convenient allies to lovers, denial, slow burn, smut, obsession, toxic relationships, alcohol, drunk people, fake relationship more warnings as chapters come in. TW: mentions of emotional abuse and some physical abused in a relationship.

Author's Note: This is what happened on Halloween and how it has affected Wanda until the present time.

I wanted to thank you all for being loyal to the story, for liking it and being patient with me. This chapter was fun and hard to write, I knew where I wanted to take it, but trying to put it into words was difficult.

I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it. By the way, Wanda is dressed up as Megara from Hercules, Yelena is a pirate, and Reader is Phantom of the Opera.

Please remember English is not my mother tongue, so I apologize for any grammar, spelling or funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Halloween 2024

“We got in!!!” Natasha Romanoff came barging into the living room startling you and Yelena out of your game.

You hissed like a cat covering your eyes with Yelena chuckling and rolling her eyes at the sudden excitement coming from her sister. The full horror-based atmosphere of the living room was completely spoiled by Natasha who was grinning as if she had won the lottery. Yelena cursed in Russian glaring at Natasha who was smirking waving around a black envelop as if it was the most important piece of paper in the world.

“What do you mean? What is that?” You asked pausing the game giving Natasha your full attention.

Natasha didn’t lose her smirk, if anything it only grew as she sat down on the spot right beside yours wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

“This, my dear Y/N, is an invitation for the party of the century.” Natasha continued waving the envelope, the satisfaction on her face was enough to make you wary and curious.

“The party of the century?” You sounded amused, and Natasha gave you a single kiss on your cheek.

“God, if I have known that we could use your connection to Stark earlier for this kind of shit, I would have done so a long time ago.”

“Language!” Melina chastised Natasha while passing by you chuckled with Natasha merely rolling her eyes.

The older woman raised a brow as she grabbed the envelope turning it around before setting her eyes on Natasha and then on Y/N. Melina gave a half smirk shaking her head before giving Natasha the envelope turning a stern stare to the three young women sitting on her living room.

“Dinner is almost ready. I want the living room impeccable.” She warned before walking out of the room into the kitchen once more.

You grabbed the envelope, turning it around in your hand, there were no markings, no return address, it was only a black piece of paper that, apparently, had more pieces of paper inside. With utter care, you removed the seal flap looking at what was inside; you could count three more pieces of black paper, but when you pulled it out it was only that. Black paper. You blinked, turning to Natasha who was chewing on her lower lip, Yelena was putting the PS controllers away.

“How do you know these papers are invitations? How did you use Tony for these?” You finally asked your best friend, Natasha was turning the paper around putting it under the light of the living room.

“Stark things, and I agree, that you need a social life.” Natasha pursed her lips trying to get another glimpse of the pieces of paper, Yelena snorted nodding in the back ignoring the glare you sent her way.

“I have a social life.” You grumbled crossing your arms.

 “We and the people from the library don’t count.” Yelena replied grabbing one of the black pieces of paper from Natasha. “I agreed, you need to go out more often.”

You crossed your arms pouting a little, “I think I have a very healthy social life.”

“You don’t talk to anyone!”

“See? Healthy!” You smirked lifting your arms to stop the pillow Yelena threw your way.

“Now, we only have to find a way to…read this.” Natasha put the pieces of paper back on the envelope, she turned to you expectantly until you just shrugged.

“What?”

“Well, you are the genius!”

“I am smart, not a genius.” You answered dryly, “and I’m pretty sure that being smart doesn’t mean I know all the answers, much less how to read a black piece of paper.”

“You are useless.” Yelena drawled, laughing as you threw the pillow back at her. Natasha huffed standing up before putting the envelope on the pocket of her jeans.

“Come on, let’s have dinner and then figure this thing out.” Natasha said grabbing you by your hand, you rolled your eyes eying your friend warily.

“What is all the hype for this party?” You finally asked entering the dining room and taking the lead to help Natasha set the table while Melina and Alexi spoke in the kitchen.

Natasha turned to you with an incredulous stare until she remembered that, while you two have been friends for more than five years you really didn’t have a social life, and most importantly, rarely go out. You only went out to that gay, Latin bar in the city, and even then, it was only when Yelena was dying for a good party; Natasha tilted her head breaking into an easy smile.

“This is an exclusive party.” She started trying to explain, “many think it is a rumour, some that it is an urban legend. But it does exist. Not many are allowed to talk about it, and believe me, almost no one that it isn’t someone is invited.”

You frowned, “how do you know about it, then? If it is that exclusive…”

Yelena snorted sitting down, “she does have a point.”

Natasha hesitated before answering, “I went there with Maria, three years ago.”

No one said anything for a moment, you glanced at Yelena then back at Natasha who put on another flirty smile.

“Anyways, this is huge! And you will get me and Yelena in, and then you will get laid.” Natasha finished her speech with a clap.

“Finally! Y/N will get laid in a party!” Alexei boomed entering the dining room with a bowl of salad, you winced while Yelena laughed and Natasha wiggled her eyebrows at you.

The older man patted your back grinning, “I told my Melina we should start looking for a girl that will take your beautiful façade from the books! But Melina told me to not meddle.”

The last part was said with a hint of sadness, you winced glancing at Melina while mouthing a ‘thank you’ to the older woman.

“Oh, because you are good at paring people up,” Yelena mumbled while Alexei nodded dismissing his daughter’s sarcasm.

“Of course I am! I did get you that boy…”

“We are going to have a peaceful, and rather happy dinner.” Melina sat down glancing at Alexei and Yelena, she then settled her eyes on Natasha and then on you. “Now, I think the party is a good idea, I also think you should get laid Y/N…”

“Oh, dear God…” You mumbled covering your face with your hand.

“…Yes! A fine party…” Alexei trailed off under the warning stare from Melina.

You tried to cover your blush while the rest of the family started stirring conversations into a different topic. After a while conversation about studies, about family and holidays, about Christmas and normal family quarrel filled the place and you couldn’t help but smile. These people had opened their home to you, and after a while you were just one of them as well, family.

“So, did you figure it out?” You asked Natasha once both of you were back in your house, Yelena poured a glass of water while Natasha put the envelope on the counter.

“Not yet. But it must be invisible ink, I just don’t know what type.”

You shrugged yawning, “well, we have four days to figure it out.”

Four days later, Yelena figured it out, and you and your friends ended up at a party that would change your life.

______________________________________________________________

The music boomed through the concave space; strobe lights crossed the room mixing up with the darkness surrounding the people in full costumes dancing in the room. There was laughter, loud conversations mixed up with cheers and hollering; everyone seemed to be dancing pressed closer to one another, not really leaving space in between for people to move freely around.

There was a lot of people dancing, and even more people drinking and eating right outside the dance floor. There were so many people, you actually realized they didn’t know the meaning of exclusive or secret.

It was your mistake, really.

When Natasha said exclusive you misinterpreted it as fancy, not as a secret location to get the most unhinged young people in the city to reunite at a costume party. 

In the middle of nowhere.

By invitation.

Yelena laughed letting her hand sneak around your hips pressing her body to yours, you winced when she spoke into your ear to make sure you heard her through the music.

“That's the third man that you scared away with that look.” You snorted dancing with Yelena, the young woman speaking again, “I'm pretty sure they will call security any moment now.”

This time around you laughed alongside Yelena, you turned to face her rolling your eyes while trying to keep the mask on your face. You winced feeling the rolling sweat on your face wetting your chin and neck.

“I'm going to the bathroom.” You mouthed to her; Yelena grabbed your hand shaking her head.

“No!! I'm coming too!” 

You almost tripped as Yelena grabbed your hand firmly following you in the ocean of people to the closest exit. After a couple of minutes, some spontaneous dancing with strangers and pushing past some people you made it to the outer hall.

The wind sneaking inside the hallway hit your face with cold, refreshing air. You took a deep breath catching the scent of alcohol, different perfumes, and you were most certainly someone was smoking weed somewhere inside the building.

“I didn’t know how much I needed a time out of that zone until now.” Yelena all but scream at you, you winced putting a finger on your ear.

“Right, I can see that.”

“Sorry.” Yelena offered a sheepish grin, glancing around the hall filled with people before turning to you while putting her hat on. “Where is Natasha?”

You almost choked on your spit trying to look everywhere but to Yelena who narrowed her eyes at you crossing her arms. You lifted your arms in a surrender gesture before grabbing Yelena by her hand.

“Come on Captain Belova, your sister is around here conquering new horizons.” You chuckled when Yelena snorted putting her phone out of her pocket ready to write to Natasha.

“We came together; not fair she gets a chance to hook up while we are stuck with one another!”

“Ouch?” You rolled your eyes, lips curling up while Yelena didn’t have any success in connecting her call with Natasha.

“You know what I mean.” Yelena put her phone away letting you take her to the bar, the blond-haired woman huffed turning to you. “I think it is time.”

“Time for what?”

“For you and me to get someone else for the night.” Yelena smirked asking for two beers, you laughed taking one of the beers while sweeping the bar and the tables around the room. “Not fair Natasha always get all the fun!”

“I agreed, it is not fair.” There was amusement in your words, Yelena was in full seeker mode standing by the bar, arms crossed and her three-cornered pirate hat tilted to the right.

“Okay, I think we can grab our drinks and go over the window leading to the backyard, I heard they do this maze contests every hour or so.” Yelena nodded resolutely grabbing her drink and your hand and dragging you down the room towards the balcony.

The place was crowded; it was easier to walk and to actually enjoy some conversation without the need to scream. You strolled alongside Yelena, for a brief moment, crossing stares with a single figure with the most alluring, and deep forest eyes you have ever seen. Then, as suddenly as those eyes had locked with yours, they disappeared and you returned your attention back to Yelena.

________________________________________________________________

It was quite difficult to find a place in which they could have a private conversation; while the place was enormous for a castle, it had only a few sectors open to the public and most of them were packed with party goers.

However, when the tension had mounted into something Wanda could barely hold, she found herself being dragged by Jarvis to a hall she had not seen before. Their footsteps tapped into the empty hallway, while the music continue blasting through the rocky walls; Jarvis had his jaw clenched, with just a hint of red colouring his cheekbones and his hand tight and firm around Wanda’s forearm.

By the time they reached the seclude area, Wanda yanked her arm away from Jarvis’ grasp turning to the man with a defiant stance that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Wha-what the hell was that?” Her voice was trembling; she could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage with sweat covering her palms and face.

Jarvis pinned her to the spot with his eyes, those blue eyes that were like ice at the moment with the tension pulling on the skin around his mouth and eyes. Wanda hesitated, she lowered her gaze before lifting it once more to face the man she loved with all her heart, with all her mind, and soul. The man that didn’t even belong to her.

“Vis, what was that? You told me she was not coming.” Wanda tried to hold her voice strong, to shake off the little tremors in her words. “I…I thought, you told me today was going to be for us! That…that you were going to end it…that…”

Jarvis continued looking at Wanda with a blank expression, his eyes never leaving her form. The man stood there as if weighting his next action; he could see Wanda almost breaking over. The tears glinting in her eyes, the trembling of her body, the desperation drawing on her face; whatever he was going to do next, he needed to be smart about it.

“I don’t remember telling you Jessica wouldn’t come, Wanda.” He spoke softly, almost musically while standing still never wavering in his stance or his stare.

Wanda frowned opening her mouth to retort but Jarvis lifted a hand, she winced one foot stepping back while Jarvi’s lips twitched upwards for a second before going back to their original neutral position. The hand set itself on her forearm, the same one Jarvis had grabbed forcefully to pull her out of the party. He softened his expression, relaxing the muscles of his face while his finger made a quick drawing of the bruised he left without his intention. Wanda’s attitude had gotten the best of him, and that petulant tantrum had almost made him lose his cool.

“I told you she would probably say she didn’t want to come,” Jarvis continued stepping closer to Wanda. “In the end, Jessica decided to come, and I could not deny her, Wanda. Would you have denied your best friend this party? This moment of relaxation?”

Wanda opened her eyes in disbelief; she tried to form her thoughts in her head and debated Jarvis logic but nothing came out.

“Jessica doesn’t know about us, Wanda. About you.” Jarvis said softly, his fingers brushing the skin of her forearm. “Do you think it was fair with her that you were so rude? That you throw that tantrum. That you almost ruin everyone’s fun because you didn’t get your way?”

“You promised me!” Wanda exclaimed stepping back looking away. “Jarvis, I can’t…I can’t continue like this…I love you! I want to be with you!

“What are you talking about? We are together, you are with me, Wanda.” Jarvis cupped her cheek offering a half smile. “I feel you, only you.”

“Then why won’t you break up with her and be with me? Jarvis…”

Jarvis took his hand away, and Wanda almost broke under his heartbroken stare.

“I told you already, Wanda. I can’t. Not Yet.” He said softly, as if wounded. “There is nothing more for me than you, Wanda. You have been so patient, so loving…give me time, all we need is time.”

“Meanwhile I am just…what? I’m supposed to wait! To just…be here and see you be happy with her! Kissing her! Touching her! Dancing with her!” Wanda exclaimed placing her hands on Jarvis forearms. “Jarvis, I can’t! It breaks me!”

“I know. I am sorry, Wanda.” He whispered pressing his forehead against hers, he spoke and as soon as those words left his mouth he knew he had miscalculated. “But you agreed to this. You will always be my heart, and regardless of how physical I am with Jessica, I am yours. As much as you are mine, and I will reward your loyalty, Wanda. But, right now, I can’t break up with Jessica.”

Wanda nodded curtly. Tears falling, her heart breaking.

Another promised broken.

“Fine! Fine! I guess…my fidelity, and loyalty ends here. I mean, if you can go around fucking Jessica after you fuck me, I can go around and fuck whoever I want, right?!” Wanda was breathing heavily by now, tears rolling down her cheeks ruining her makeup. She stood there for a couple of more second before turning around ready to leave.

Jarvis grasped her wrist with more force that was necessary, Wanda yanked her hand free without looking back and left.

She was trembling, her mind was a complete mess.

She was hurt. She was angry. She was heartbroken.

She was going to fuck the first person she came across and showed Jarvis she could also find someone to distract her from their relationship.

________________________________________________________________

You glanced at the mirror fixing the mask on your face, you stretched out your shoulders and arms before putting up the ponytail and securing the mask on once more.

Yelena had gone missing ten minutes ago, and you finally got to go to the bathroom while trying to just find your friends once more. Once you made sure the mask was really on, and in perfect position on your face you turned around only to have the door of the bathroom slammed on your face making you staggered backwards.

“Shit!”

“Oh, my God, I’m sorry!” Wanda didn’t intend to barge in so violently, much less that in her sole act of violence there would be an innocent bystander. “I…I’m sorry, I -I-just…”

“No, please continue babbling away, I do not need you to pass me any toilet paper for the bleeding nose or anything.” You mumbled putting your mask away trying to see if there was anything broken, or it was just your ego the one really bruised.

“I’m sorry I…” Wanda’s voice broke unable to continue saying anything at all just as she let out a sob, you lifted your eyes to see the woman for the very first time.

You cocked your head taking in the Greek-like, pleated dress with the curly hair now all out of place, and the sash around her hips almost falling down. The make-up was messed up and there were tears still rolling down her cheeks, and those eyes…they were familiar. You straightened up glancing around the bathroom shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“So…I was exaggerating, you didn’t break my nose…no need to cry about it.” You mumbled; the young woman made a choked noise placing her hand on her mouth. She was trying to hold back the tears and the sobs, the door opened once more, a group of young women stood there glancing at you then at the crying redhead.

The young women stopped their conversation and laughter; they glanced at one another before turning around and leaving with laughter and some more conversation living you two alone. Wanda winced mortified, standing on weak legs to wash her face but unable to raise her hands as her eyes glance at her reflection and more tears rolled down. You shifted the weight of your body to one foot, then the other, your eyes drifting around the bathroom before turning around and entering one of the bathroom stalls and coming out with some toilet paper.

“I’m Y/N.” You said raising your voice above the buzzing of music and conversation that reverberated in the bathroom.

The young woman snorted, her lips breaking into a tiny smile turning to face you and grabbed the toilet paper you were offering.

“Wanda Maximoff.” Wanda offered a half smile, that soon changed into a look of pure panic. “Oh, my God! Your nose!”

Her warning came too late.

You felt the tingling of something liquid rolling down your nose, the white shirt you were wearing received the impact of two drops of blood. While your mask got partially smear with some more drops, Wanda came at you placing a piece of toilet paper on your nose putting your head back while helping you down on one of the toilet seats.

“I thought you said you were exaggerating.” The young woman clicked her tongue, and you couldn’t help but smile a little.

It wasn’t until then that you had a chance to actually check her up.

She was beautiful. With the most incredible green in her eyes, a hair that was a mixture of coppery colours, and a nice voice. You were hooked by her looks, and a part of you wondered what could have happened to her to make her so sad and cry in the middle of a party.

The door to the restroom opened, and in came another group of women. These ones were laughing and talking loudly, their eyes met but they decided to ignore the both of you and continue with their conversation and the beginning of their grooming session. Wanda pressed her lips together helping you lower your face while ignoring the storm in her heart or the loud conversation of the newcomers.

“Does it hurt?” Wanda asked you.

“Falling from Heaven like a beautiful angel? Always.” You grinned when the woman in front of you scolded and one of the young women that had entered the restroom giggled glancing your way through the mirror.

“I guess that means your fine now.” Wanda let go of the toilet paper and stepped back, you chuckled wincing a little while checking to see if more blood would come.

“I think it was just a little scare, you know? I suffered from allergies; my nose is quite delicate.” You approached the sink, the young woman that had laughed at your comment was chewing on her lower lip giving you side-glances.

“Right, sorry about the door…” Wanda let out a sigh, she kept her eyes on the floor while you washed your face and tried to clean up the mask. The shirt was a lost cause, but the mask at least was salvageable.

“No problem.” You mumbled distractedly, your eyes shifting to glance at her for a brief moment. “And you, are you alright?”

The question came casual, as if you were asking for the weather. The conversation of the young girls grew, your eyes found those of the young woman that had been trying to catch your attention for a while.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” Wanda offered a practice smile, that made her looked weird.

You nodded putting the mask on, your eyes found those green eyes.

“Okay then, nice to meet you, I guess.” You waited for a moment before lifting your face, you winked to the other young woman and then left the restroom.

Wanda stood firmly in place for a moment.

Her mind was a kaleidoscope of different emotions, thoughts, and memories. Her fight with Jarvis left her drained of all social battery, she wanted nothing more than to go back to Jarvis and asked for forgiveness. For him to understand how hurt she was, how the situation had become unbearable and she just wanted to be with him without being a secret. Without lying and having to hide.

Then, there was the small part that was still Wanda.

The one small part that always rebelled against her mother’s expectations, that small part that would stand up to Jarvis and demand to be heard, to be seen, to be considered as a partner. A lover. A girlfriend. A potential wife. The part that had tried to date until Jarvis convinced her otherwise.

I feel you, Wanda. Only you.

Wanda found herself looking into her eyes.

Why couldn’t he just be with her? Why couldn’t Wanda just be with him? Why couldn’t Wanda just leave? She should find someone. She could easily pick up a random guy out there and they would be fortunate to have her!

I feel you, Wanda. What do you feel with me?

 Wanda opened the tap to pour more water on her face, her ears twitching as she finally caught the conversation happening right beside her. The young women were still having a tipsy conversation, giggling while freshened themselves up and touching their makeup.

“…oh, please, did you see her? She was like…this cute, mysterious…older woman.” One of the young women said, the brunette that had set her eyes on you the moment she entered the bathroom chewed on her lower lip. “You like them older.”

Wanda refrained herself from rolling her eyes, there was a light annoyance in her mind at how the young women giggled and continue talking about the woman Wanda had crashed into in the bathroom.

“You should go for that woman, I bet she can change your world and certainly shake your bed.”

The young women giggled while talking about the mask, the cloak, the voice. They were describing every single detail while encouraging their brunette friend to give herself a chance to have a wild night. It wasn’t until that moment that Wanda found herself entertaining the craziest of thoughts; Wanda was looking for an escape. She was confused, she was sad, she was desperate to run, to hide, to feel desirable, to feel anything that wasn’t Jarvis.

And hearing these women talking about Y/N, Wanda couldn’t help but think: why not?

Wanda almost broke Y/N’s nose, and the young woman had been nice and quite funny and flirty. She could be what Wanda was looking for.

An escape.

Wanda poured water on her face, make sure she was completely freshened up before grabbing paper towels and getting out of the restroom with a thought in mind: looking for Y/N.

It wasn’t until she was out and face the reality of the people that had attended the party, Wanda felt her heart dropped. How would she find Y/N? The place was huge, and so many people had come. With a hint of determination, she started walking around the place until she found herself in the hall leading to the dance room and the bar.

You were there standing in the middle of the room, frozen as if you were waiting for something. Or someone.

Wanda took a deep breath strolling towards Y/N until she reached out and placed her hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, sorry…” Wanda started, you turned around startled only to blink away confused when Wanda found herself looking into your eyes.

“Oh, hey.” You gave off a tentative smile, tilting your head, “are you okay?”

You finally asked when it seemed Wanda was just gesturing with her hands instead of actually speaking.

“Look, this has been a really awful night. Halloween is…was…I guess, it still is my favourite day of the year, today has been—” She was hunting for the right word in her mind, you followed her hands with your head until you tried to help her out.

“Awful?”

“Yes, It has been awful. I did hit you with the door, and then you were helping me, a complete stranger and, I was wondering…if I can invite you a drink?”

You hesitated for a moment, your lips quirking up though your hand went to scratch the back of your head.

“Uh, sure, that…that’s okay, I guess.” You replied shrugging, trying to hold back your laughter when the redhead opened her eyes.

“Oh, Unless, are you---did you come with someone? Should I expect an angry, jealous girlfriend? Or…boyfriend? Girlfriend?” Wanda asked rather fast, wiggling her fingers together.

“No.” You chuckled tilting your head, “is that your way to ask me if I am with someone or you are free to hook-up with me?”

Wanda started stuttering, dipping her head while the movement of her hands became erratic as she tried to explain what exactly she meant. It wasn’t as if she really was trying to hook-up with you, she wanted to just be with someone that night that would help her forget Jarvis. She wasn’t necessarily looking for sex. Not that she would have sex with a woman. At these rushing thoughts, and the obvious laughter coming from you, Wanda opened her eyes in panic.

“No! I…No, that’s not my intention. I just wanted to have a drink with someone that has been nice so far.” Wanda winced at how lame her explanation sounded out loud. “I’m not into women…you…I just…I was asking I…”

You laughed rolling your eyes playfully, “okay, Meg, no need to stutter your way out of this mess.”

Wanda put her hand on her face trying to hide away her blush and how mortified she was feeling at the moment.

“I swear I can be eloquent.” Wanda lifted her face clearing her throat while looking away, then she frowned turning to you, “Meg? My name is Wanda.”

You blinked a couple of times before bursting out laughing, you couldn’t help but laugh as Wanda was looking even more mortified and confused than before. At that point you decided to take pity on her fixing the mask on your face.

“I can see you would be a person far too easy to tease.” You could see the young woman mock glaring at you, you stepped back stretching your right hand pointing at the bar. “Come on, I accept the drink. I know your intentions are pure, and out of the kindness of your heart.”

Wanda let out a sigh of relief, she made her way towards the bar with you following close behind. Once seated, you two order one of the multiple cocktails in offer on the menu before engaging in easy conversation.

“So, you wouldn’t think I wanna get you drunk and have my wicked way with you?” Wanda asked after a while, you gave her a once over before laughing. “Hey! I am offended!”

“Look, that’s a nice thought,” you leaned forward, the music and other noise in the room making you leaned closer to the young woman sitting beside you. Your voice just above the normal volume, Wanda leaned forward as well, her cheeks tainted with a dust of red while her eyes were glistening merrily. “You gave a ‘straight as an arrow’ vibe. I can’t imagine you have any experience kissing or being with a woman.”

Wanda rolled her eyes taking another sip from her drink, “Very well, you win, then. I have never been with a woman…I am just inviting you a drink because I…”

Here Wanda trailed off, her eyes drifting around before she creased her brows and took a long sip from her glass. You shifted on the seat.

“Got it.” You lifted the glass clinking it to the one Wanda was holding. “To new friendships and running away from the problems!”

“Amen!” Wanda mumbled before emptying the glass and asking for another drink.

_____________________________________________________________

You and Wanda were laughing, the conversation flew easily after that initial drink and 40 minutes later the both of you had talked about childhood memories, what did you study, how was your life in the U.K. how was Wanda able to play Golf as a semi-professional player. It was a conversation about anything and everything that felt natural and for just a couple of minutes made Wanda forget what was happening in her life. For the very first time, Wanda lowered her guard, her dark thoughts went away and all that matter at the moment was the conversation and the drinks she had been enjoying with this beautiful stranger.

Wanda shifted on the seat, her eyes flickering around while her mind started circling around the same dark thoughts she had been trying to bury all night. The memory of Jarvis came as subtle, as it always did, and Wanda’s heart twisted painfully hard on her chest at the thought perhaps that was the last night she would ever see or talk to Jarvis as a lover. As the love of her life.

A dark cloud settled on her green eyes; you tilted your head noticing the change in the young woman sitting in front of you.

“So…we have talked about my life, my job, my vacations,” You started then you tried to pretend to be looking everywhere but at the young woman beside you, “you decide to invite me a drink because you have a bad night with your boyfriend?”

For a brief moment Wanda did nothing, she sat there taken aback by the directness of your question, then straightening up she turned to you with a blank expression.

“What made you think that? Why would I have a bad night with my boyfriend?”

You snorted pointing with your head to the glass Wanda was nursing, “That’s your fifth cocktail in the last 40 minutes, you have drunk them as if they were juice while I still have my one drink here.”

Wanda had the sense of looking embarrassed, her green eyes flickering to the glass on her hand that was almost finished. She hesitated finishing it in one go, she tapped the glass for a few seconds feeling the weight of your eyes on her. There was a moment of silence filled by the music, the laughter, the loud conversations happening around you two. You decided to finish your drink while bobbing your head at the rhythm of the music; then a warm hand placed on top of yours and when you faced the young woman sitting beside you there was only tiredness and sadness in those green eyes.  

“I…Yeah, it’s not a good night today…I didn’t know how to deal with it so…” Here Wanda shook the empty glass, “-are you going to criticize me and tell me that alcohol doesn’t solve my problems?”

You examined her for a long time, behind the brave façade was someone who had already cried and suffered in a way. Your eyes drifted to her left forearm where you could see the bruised left by a tight grip, something in your chest and abdomen stirred with cold anger. The woman sitting in front of you was someone trying to drown herself in nothingness, whatever it was she was living at the moment, she looked like someone who needed a scape. If only for that night.

“No, sometimes you need alcohol. Sometimes you need something to forget so…” You called to the bartender who soon brought two pints of beer, you grinned at Wanda grabbing your glass at the same time Wanda grabbed hers clinking glasses. “Cheers! To forget our troubles with a pint!”

Wanda hesitated before laughing loudly, she clinked her glass with yours before drinking from her beer locking her eyes with yours before the conversation stirred towards safer topics. Nevertheless, and in the midst of the conversation, you couldn’t help but be concern; from time to time, you would go back to the bruise on Wanda’s forearm, the sadness behind those green eyes, and your heart would twist uneasily. In the back of your mind, you knew sooner or later you would need to help Wanda look for her companions, and you were going to make sure Wanda left with someone that could keep her safe.

“…and then, you know she said, everyone has closing schedule tomorrow! And you can believe all of us arrived around 9 a.m. for our shift, some of us still hangover from the night before..” You laughed shaking your head under the memory, Wanda laughed out loud trying to hold onto you.

“I can’t…believe, and all of you…the walk of shame…” She said between breaths of laughter, you shrugged laughing as well before focusing on the redhead.

“The walk of shame! I couldn’t have said it better.” You said offering a toothy grin then, as an afterthought, “I have to say, you have a weird laugh.”

Wanda opened her eyes slapping your arm playfully, “what kind of comment is that? Do you usually use that pick-up line with your conquests?”

“Hey! I didn’t know I need to use my best pick-up lines with you.” You said shaking your head.

“Well, you might as well, I am dying to go around and dance or do something besides drinking.” Wanda fell easily into the banter, once more wanting nothing more than to forget her sadness.

“Very well, you have a weird laugh,” you lifted a hand stopping her before Wanda could retort to you, “but you have a beautiful smile. I can certainly see myself getting lost in that smile.”

You softened your features, your lips curling lightly while your eyes squinted a little to show the easiness of your smile. Wanda almost choked on her drink, her heart fluttering strangely while an explosion of overexcited butterflies expanded on her abdomen.

“That…that was good.” You patted her back as she cleared her throat and tried to breath once more

“I know! I can’t believe I’m single still.”

“Oh, so now you’re telling me you’re single to tell me I shouldn’t feel guilty for trying to get you to flirt with me?”

“Nah, I am telling you I’m single so you know you have a possibility.” You winked at Wanda and once more she laughed.

“That was really smooth, that’s how you flirt? Were you flirting with me to see if I fall for your charm?” Wanda asked offering a half smile, you lifted your hands standing up.

“Whoa, I was just showing you my moves! You are not my type.” You said shrugging stretching your hand, the redhead frowned lightly grabbing your hand before speaking.

“What do you mean I’m not your type?”

“I’m not into hetero-confused people. That tends to be messy for me, and it certainly is a door to a whole world of trouble and pain.” You clarified, Wanda crunched up her nose and you couldn’t help but think she did look cute like that.

“Hetero-what?” Wanda tasted the word tilting her head while you chuckled.

“Hetero-confused. You know? When it is so obvious you are straight as an arrow but after a couple of drinks, or a sudden spark of curiosity you decided to try out a homosexual experience.” You pursed your lips trying to decide if you choose the words correctly for the explanation; by the face Wanda made you did the right thing.

“Okay, I didn’t know there was a term for that. I will need to ask this to my gay friend; she is the expert.” Wanda said, you nodded.

“Of course you have a gay friend, you can ask her. She will clarify everything.” Wanda chuckled bobbing her head glancing around the bar then at you.

There was a part of Wanda that was still thinking about revenge, about using someone to get her frustrations of her system. But finding you had changed her mind, so far you had been nothing but kind and understanding, and the banter and conversation the both of you had share was enough to help Wanda forget and relax. Wanda was happy she came across someone like you, the young woman was hearing you while her mind went fuzzy and foggy with the alcohol overwhelming her senses and helping her forget.  Wanda realized in this state it was so much easier to pretend Jarvis was not there, it was easier to pretend she didn’t think or feel Jarvis.

Alcohol had made everything easier for Wanda.

She found your eyes more alluring, she appreciated your laughter and your conversation, and she found herself relaxing under your subreptitious touches. Everything was easier, and her mind was happy to forget the mess that had became Wanda’s life.

“I think that we have known long enough to move forward with this growing situationship,” Wanda slurred making you lifted a brow, “how about we dance?”

You opened your eyes at how abruptly Wanda change the conversation, the young woman stood up emptying her glass of drink grabbing your hand with a half-smile. You stood up but stopped her with a gesture of your hand.

“No, no, no!” You exclaimed winking at her, “for what I can see, you haven’t really enjoyed the perks of this party, I bet you haven’t even gone to the games they have on the backyard.” You said guiding her towards the closest exist.

“There are games on this party?” Wanda asked, you opened your eyes exited.

“Yes! Can you believe it?! Come on!”

Wanda laughed squeezing your hand and pressing herself closer to you, her body warm all over, while her eyes unable to look away from your lips, the alcohol taken hold of her mind and her body making her feel clumsy, but so free and relaxed.

For the next hour, Wanda could do nothing but enjoy herself.

She went around the games with you drinking, laughing and having meaningless conversations, holding onto you while, from time to time, she would cross her paths with her friends. At some point, you and Wanda came across Pietro who was puzzled trying to understand the slurred speaking from his sister, before Wanda dragged you away laughing and ignoring her brother calling out to her and the confused stare from Gwen. You could do nothing much but to follow the young woman holding your hand, your mind filling away people you came across to make sure you could locate them as soon as the hype form the party, and the alcohol and her own emotional avoidance caught up with Wanda.

“Oh, not over there…” Wanda turned around as soon as she saw Kate dancing with some random blonde-haired woman, and then she ran through the dance hall never noticing the eyes of Jarvis in the distance following her and the strange woman Wanda seemed reluctant to let go.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity the both of you found a comfortable corner to dance.

The music buzzed around the room; your heart was beating at the rhythm of the bass and the electronic frequencies. Arms above your head, eyes closed while Wanda pressed her body against yours, the undulation of bodies followed the frequency of the music blasting through the speakers, the lighting surrounding creating mirages that overwhelmed your eyes.

None of you knew when exactly it happened.

It was fussy in your minds, confusing even.

Wanda would blame it on you and the alcohol.

You would blame it on her and the alcohol.

In the end, no one was sure how it happened.

Only that it happened.

Her lips were warm, wet and needy against yours.

Her body was radiating heat, her hands holding onto you like a lifeline, tilting her head deepening the kiss that was lust, alcohol, and a tad desperate. You couldn’t help but kiss her back, your hands rubbing her sides lowering themselves to set on her hips to pull her closer to you. She let out a gasp, your tongue playing with hers following the patterns of the music playing in your ears; she kissed you in a way that she wanted to lose herself in the kiss. She was looking for something, and you were there giving it to her.

By the time you both broke the kiss, her green eyes had taken into a darker shade. Her cheeks warm and flustered, her breathing coming in shallow breaths making it easier to look at her cleavage. Sweat covered your faces, her breath on you filled with alcohol. She smiled at you, your knees buckling lightly; she giggled leaning in her lips brushing your earlobe ready to whisper the question that would lead to a new set of trouble you never could have predicted.

“I have always been curious if a woman can make me cum as hard and as fast as a man usually can.” And then she was kissing you dragging you away from the dance hall, your hands on her keeping her from tripping on the steps leading to the hall.

At some point Wanda let out a moan, her back crashing on the wall. You leaned back, eyes wide open.

“Are you alright?” Wanda snorted crashing her lips with yours pulling you to her by your shirt, you kiss her back pressing her to the wall, your thigh finding its way between her legs applying the right amount of pressure on her crotch.

Wanda was throwing her head back to give your lips, tongue and teeth space to explore her jawline, dancing around her skin, tasting the sweat on her neck. Everything was messy, the kisses, the hands, the moans and mewls coming from the woman you had pressed against the wall. Your mind was completely blank, only thinking how to touch, how to bring pleasure. The redhead held onto you, her hands mapping your form not as certain and as confident as your hands, but equal passion and need.

Things were getting very heated up.

Everything became a full override of senses, and the only thought in your mind was to get away from Wanda long enough to drag her into private and more secure area in the building. One more kiss, one more touch and then…

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” A male voice boomed into the hallway; it was as if that sole voice had broken through the hazy lust the both of you were experimenting.

One moment you were kissing Wanda, and the other she pushed you so hard you staggered backwards crashing your back against the wall. You were breathing hard, the mask on your face fell down, sweat rolling down your forehead and your cheeks were flustered. Your eyes glanced at the mask before they flickered to the young woman standing in front you, she was staring at the man with wide, panic-stricken eyes with her lips swollen from the kissing and the strap of her dress rolled down her right shoulder.

The man was standing his full height, his eyes a cold shade of blue that glowered at Wanda before sending daggers your way. Your breathing was laboured, while your mind was trying to catch up with the situation; Wanda opened and closed her mouth.

“Jarvis!” She exclaimed in a high-pitch tone. “This is not…This was not...I…”

The man, Jarvis, stepped forward very slowly towards Wanda.

Without any warning, and with the same cold anger he had shown so far he locked his eyes with Wanda’s, tilting his head he lifted his hand and grab her by her left forearm.

“Is this what you were looking for today, Wanda? Is this how you want to get back at me?” His tone of voice was loud enough for you and Wanda to hear clearly, there was coldness in his voice, and something else, something so uncomfortable that sent a shiver down your back and made you stepped forward. “Is this how you decided to break my heart?”

The last part made you clenched your fists, taking another step closer to them. Wanda opened her eyes, a hint of panic crossing her green irises. She gapped trying to look for the right words, flinching when his grip on her arm tightened, before you could do or say something to stop Jarvis, Wanda spoke with a tremble in her voice.

“N-No! Of course not! Jarvis, Vis…” She spoke trying to place her free hand on the hand holding her forearm. Wanda was trying not to flinch or show any discomfort with the way Jarvis was holding her, the way he was looking at her.

At that moment, her main concern was Jarvis. Her real concern was to make him understand everything he saw was a misunderstanding.

“I wasn’t trying… Jarvis, please, I was…I drunk too much! I was hurt, yes…but I…I’m not trying to get back at you, this was a misunderstanding! It was nothing.” She clamoured trying to control her breathing, and the beating of her heart. “I drank too much, I was dancing, I just…she…And she was…”

As soon as she mentioned you and pointed at you, you could see the plead in her eyes to go along with her story. To make yourself the villain, so she would be saved. Jarvis turned to you, lifting a brow before narrowing his eye at you with such animosity that something inside you stirred. You were never good at following social standards, and much less to allow such a dangerous situation to go out of hand; your eyes went from the man looking at you with anger, to the woman pleading with her green eyes to the hand holding Wanda’s arm with such a tight grip you were pretty sure there would be a much bigger bruise the next day.

Your eyes drifted locking themselves with Jarvi’s blue eyes. The man clenched his jaw when your lips curled up, and then with as much diplomacy as you could show, you spoke.

And all hell broke loose.

“I think you were pretty much into this situationship, Wanda.” You drawled your words, wide smirk adorning your features while Wanda opened her eyes. “I think that more than break your heart or getting back at you…” here you pointed to the man disdainfully, “Wanda was finally getting what she could not get from you, mate.”

Not sooner had you said this Wanda was trembling in disbelief, with her eyes wide opened she sent you an angered stare.

“What? No! That’s not…!”

Wanda tried to defend herself, her voice trembling with her eyes seeking out those of Jarvis. The young man, however, had his eyes set on Y/N. He let go of Wanda’s forearm standing in between Y/N and Wanda; his face transformed completely, with his lips drawing a disdainful smirk, putting his shoulders back.

“How pathetic you have to be,” he drawled dangerously loud, “to get someone drunk and drag her around to take advantage of her? It is that the reason you drag Wanda to this corner? I guess, I am lucky I could see through your mask, isn’t that right, Wanda dear?”

Even though the music had not stopped, and conversation and screams and laughter still resounded in the building, you could only hear a buzzing beep in your ears. The accusation made your blood ran cold, you took a step closer to the man with your smirk in place. Jarvis from his part stood tall, pushing Wanda behind him still standing as a dominant figure.

You raised your eyebrows, flickering your eyes between Jarvis and Wanda. Instead of answering to Jarvis, Wanda stood frozen trying to catch up to the situation.

“Jarvis…” Wanda mumbled with a hint of plea in her tone, Jarvis ignored her, for him this had become a problem he needed to crush.

You chuckled, eyes gleaming dangerously at the man.

“I have to be honest with you,” you commented sweetly, “I must have done something right when we started kissing because, she actually like. A lot. So much, Wanda was the one dragging me here…so…”

You shrugged pointing with your chin to Wanda, “and if I were to be more honest with you…the one leaving bruises in her arms to assert dominance was you not me. I know who I am, and what I do…I do not have to force anyone to be with me. I don’t have to go around grabbing her like rag dolls, or push them back, as if they were dogs…you know, they way you seem to be doing right now.”

Jarvis clenched his jaw, his eyes ablaze with his fists ready for action. Wanda jumped in placing a hand on Jarvis hand, softening slightly when crossing stares with him before turning a cold, angered glare at you.

“Stop it!” Wanda finally directed herself to you, when you finally found her eyes you knew that somehow you were the one who messed up and miscalculated the situation.

Wanda turned to Jarvis once more, her voice trembling but so full of warmth trying to make the man understand the real situation that, in Wanda’s mind, was the truth of what had happened that night.

“This is what happened, Jarvis, let me explain it…” Jarvis lifted a hand silencing Wanda.

“Save it, Wanda, I do not want to hear it.” The man turned his attention to Wanda. “I came here because your brother was worried you were being taken advantage of, because he saw you a little tipsy…drunk…as I find you, in a very intimate position with this…”

He trailed off before saying, “…this thing.”

This time around you took it personal, “Pardon me? Thing?”

Without any warning you pushed the man with more strength that Jarvis thought you possessed, his eyes opened lightly while Wanda tried to get in the way, Jarvis pushed her away just as you stood confronting him without a hint of fear or caring that he was obviously taller and probably stronger than you.

“My name is Y/N, Mate. And this Thing…” You sneered, “just gave your girlfriend the best kiss and night of her life ever. Perhaps, if you weren’t such an insecure arsehole, she wouldn’t have to look around for someone to give her what you so clearly are incapable of giving to her. Love, self-respect, and pleasure.”

You never saw the hand coming your way.

The slap resounded in the hall making you staggered and go back two steps. Wanda stood with her hand lifted still, breathing hard with a mixture of disbelief, regret and anger. You lifted a hand to your cheek, disbelief written all over your face, Jarvis smirking with satisfaction at the scene.

“How dare you!” Wanda snapped. “I told you I’m not into women…”

“I know! I know you like dicks, literally and figuratively,” You said pointing at Jarvis, your cheek was red and it was stinging a little, yet you couldn’t help but continue smirking not showing any weakness.

“You know? People like you…” Wands started, you lifted a finger wiggling it to stop her.

“People like me?” You repeated, Jarvis stepped forward.

“Yes! People like you, people who don’t have money, who don’t have a name, who are trash.” Jarvis stated. “You are always wanting to take advantage of us.”

You were trembling with fury trying to understand when did this conversation turned into a series of accusations that did not make any sense. You had spent a very good night; Wanda had seemed so different and open. You didn’t entertain the idea of even kissing her the way you kissed her, but it happened and the way she was acting due to the appearance of this arsehole. You could see it clearly. And you could understand it.

You couldn’t help but pity Wanda.

“I know you are not into women, Wanda.” You spoke loudly making sure she could not look away from you. “I know that what happened in here was partially because you were drunk, I know that what we did was a result of the alcohol, the dancing, the fact that you were enjoying yourself.”

Wanda was about to speak, Jarvis snorted. But you continued.

“But I won’t allow you to change the story, to tell me or anyone else, that you were forced or taken advantage of because, if I remember correctly, you kissed me first.” You ended with a huff stepping forward.

Wanda took a deep breath; she tried to grab Jarvis by his hand but the man yanked his hand so violently Wanda flinched away in time so as to not be hit by him. Once more, you jumped in pushing the man away from Wanda.

“Hey! What is your problem? Do you like hitting women? Is that it?” You said standing at the ready. “I dare you to try that with me!”

Jarvis offered a half smile when Wanda put a hand on your shoulder turning you around. Her eyes found yours, and all the fight you had in you went away with that single stare.

“Stop it, just stop it.” Wanda closed her eyes before opening again. “Whatever happened here meant nothing. It was nothing. It was the alcohol and misunderstandings. Jarvis, this is not what you think it is. It didn’t mean anything, I…this was just…”

“Yes, I understand, you were taken advantage of by this woman.” He snarled grabbing Wanda by her hand, tightening her hold. “Let’s go. Your brother and your friends are waiting for us. I am so disappointed in you, Wanda. Today, you have broken my heart, you stomp on my love for you, and instead of being a grown up and understand my point of view, you behave like a whore…”

Wanda was taken aback, her heart breaking a little at those words. Once more you stepped forward your voice breaking into Wanda’s thoughts.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?” You sought her eyes softening your tone, “Wanda, you don’t have to…”

“Stop it!” Wanda exclaimed angrily. “This has nothing to do with you! you were a mistake! I regret the moment I decide to talk to you! I regret the moment I …I invite you and the drink!! God, just get out you…you fucking freak!”

Jarvis had started walking away, and Wanda hesitated with her eyes gleaming slightly with what you thought was regret until the young woman merely huffed turned around and started calling to Jarvis.  You stood there for a brief moment, putting a hand to your head highly confused about the situation.

What the hell happened?

You cocked your head finding the pairing walking close by, your eyes soon found the man holding Wanda by her arm, leaning in and whispering to the young woman who was wincing while pressing her lips together. Jarvis looked furious while Wanda was looking defeated it, scared and sad trying to speak, trying to justify herself.

You picked up your mask, frowning while trying to quiet down your thoughts and emotions. You had seen this type of pairings before; you had heard stories and hand friends that had been under the influence of a toxic and rather abusive relationship. But there was nothing you could do, nothing at all.

Yet, your feet started taking you down the hall towards the pair that had reached the bar.

You grabbed a red cup that was on the floor, it was full of some dark beverage of some kind that you dared not to identify. With a smirk, you started walking faster, people were filling the bar, music was still blasting through the speakers and you could see still the way the man was trying to assert his dominance on the redhead. You frowned as he let go of Wanda’s arms all of a sudden, his lips still moved as he spoke, and Wanda was trying to hide her face, you pursed your lips and made a quick decision to stop the obvious berating he was giving to a crestfallen Wanda. To stop the verbal abuse. To at least protect the woman, if only for a moment.

You stumbled over coming in between Wanda and Jarvis, your hand went up throwing the beverage on Jarvis face and chest while Wanda stumbled backwards completely taken by surprised. You held back your smile, people around the three of you stopped talking, the people of the bar were looking at the scene. You could hear people calling the name of Jarvis and Wanda, out of the corner of your eyes you could see a group of people coming your way.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You said pretending to be drunk, slurring your words and giggling like a fool. “OH, MY GOD! I’m so sooooryyy. I didn’t see you…Goosh”

The man clenched his jaw shaking with pure, unaltered anger.

“You little bitch…”

People around you gasp at the reaction from the Jarvis, you tried to continue apologizing leaning over cocking your head while drawing a smirk with your lips.

“Oh, you really are a piece of shit.” You laughed waving your hand, “no wonder your girl has to go around looking for someone to let her experience human decency…To actually show her how she should actually be love…”

For the second time that night, Wanda turned you around and slapped you hard.

“Hey! What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you do that to…my friend?” Wanda trailed off her lower lip quivering when a black-haired woman came rushing in throwing her arms around Jarvis.

“Baby, are you alright?” Jessica said looking over at Jarvis, while the rest of the group came closer.

Your eyes opened lightly, there was a glint of understanding that Wanda hated the moment she could read it in you. Soon the rest of the group came closer, all of them asking what was happening, looking between Wanda, Jarvis and you.

Just as you were going to react, Yelena’s voice was heard through the bar.

“Hey! You! THAT’S MY FRIEND! Why did you slap her?” Yelena exclaimed rushing over, you came in between Yelena and Wanda stopping your friend before this turned into something impossible to handle.

“Yelena, calm down!”

“She slapped you! I am so going to re-arrange that pretty face.” Yelena exclaimed, you couldn’t help but snort.

“This was a misunderstanding, stop it.” You said holding back your laughter, you turned around glancing at Wanda, “Lena, this was a misunderstanding, right Maximoff?”

Wanda huffed, “yes, a complete misunderstanding.”

Yelena stopped shaking her head pointing at Wanda, “how is she slapping you a misunderstanding?”

You shrugged, “I just trip throwing a drink on this dick.”

You said pointing to Jarvis, the man lifted a brow.

“It is so typical of people like you to use vulgar words to try and win an argument.”

You smirked glancing at him then at Wanda, “I didn’t win the argument with words, I did it with my tongue.”

You chuckled in triumph when the man shot you a murderous glare, Wanda pointed a finger.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Get out of here! This is not the place for you---or---or your kind!” She exclaimed.

You laughed and stopped Yelena from throwing herself to the redhead, you shook your head locking eyes with Wanda.

“You really are a piece of shit.” The casual way you said those words made Wanda flinched, everyone was just so confused as to what exactly was happening no one dare to intervene.

“I was trying to help! Sorority and women protecting women…but damn Maximoff. I pity you.” You shrugged shaking your head. “It is really dad. Goodbye, I hope someday you can get out of there.”

“Out of where?” Jessica inquired confused, Gwen had her hand on her mouth while Pietro came closer.

“Wands, are you alright?”

With those last words, you grabbed Yelena and left.

Kate Bishop couldn’t help but frown, her eyes went from her best friend to Jarvis and then to the woman who was just leaving. Kate had never seen Jarvis looked so hateful or angered at anyone the way he was looking to this woman. Her eyes finally found those of Wanda, and Kate knew right there and then that something bad had happened.

“Are you okay?” Yelena finally asked when the both of you reached the entrance of the castle, some cars were already leaving.

You stood there taking a deep breath, closing your eyes while allowing your body to regulate the blood pressure and your thoughts.

“Yeah, I am.”

“What happened?” Yelena finally asked pursing her lips, “I guess, this means no sex for you today?”

You turned to your friend before laughing, “No! Unless you consider a couple of slaps some kind of twisted foreplay?”

Yelena snort, “of course not. Melina is going to be mad; you were supposed to get laid or get to know someone new.”

A young man came your way offering easy transportation back to downtown London, you glanced at Yelena who nodded.

“Natasha did find someone.”

“At least one of us will have a fun night.” You replied grinning while accepting the young man’s offer.

Once the both of you were inside the van with some more people you turned to Yelena.

“In retrospective, I did get to know someone new.” You chuckled when Yelena rolled her eyes.

“We need to work on your social skills, when you meet someone new they’re not supposed to scream at you much less slap you.”

You sighed leaning back against the seat, your eyes taking into the shadows and the blurry forms of the countryside. Yelena rested her head on your shoulder.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” She finally asked, and you identified the concern in her voice.

“Of course.”

“Are you alright?” Yelena asked a second time.

You considered the question first.

Were you alright? Yes, you were.

The night had been unexpected, everything that could go wrong went wrong. Yet, everything that could go fine, went the way it was supposed to go. You sighed still thinking about those green eyes, that smile, the sadness and then the anger.

“I am fine, it was just confusing, you know?” You pressed your lips together before speaking again. “I think I was used today and I didn’t play right in with the script.”

Yelena nodded as in understanding.

“Okay, we still have a long way, I’m all ears. I really want to know what you did to get slap like that.”

You chuckled fixing your position on the seat in the van before starting your story. You knew Yelena was going to get angry once you had finished the story; but what you were really dreading was Natasha’s reaction.

________________________________________________________________

Halloween came and went.

Things did not change much for Y/N and her friends.

Yelena did get mad once Y/N finished narrating her story, and Natasha had reacted the way you expected her to. She found Wanda Maximoff in record time, and her mind was already planning on giving the young woman a piece of her mind, while promising retribution against Jarvis. You waited until they had calmed down to just finish the business of the Halloween party there and then and never talk about the topic ever again.

They agreed. Reluctantly.

And for you, the event ended there.

You never thought you would come across Wanda Maximoff ever again; you came from different worlds and you were okay with that.

For Wanda, however, the story was completely different.

That night changed everything. And her encounter with you, and what had happened even if it was just a small mishap made her world crumble little by little.

The situation had been so incredible strange that when asked for explanations, it was quite surprising both, Wanda and Jarvis, decided to be non-committal about it. Something had changed, of that none had any doubt, Jarvis seemed colder and more detached from Wanda than usual, and Wanda was pretending to not be affected by it. But it was obvious she was.

For more than a month, Jarvis refused to talk to her, to seek her out, to even extend the courtesy of an adult conversation.

He made Wanda suffer his absence, and the young woman couldn’t help but feel she had been the one to blame. If she had been better at controlling her emotions, if Wanda had been better in understanding perhaps Jarvis would have never be so angry at her, much less threatening to end their relationship because of her mistake.

It was as if she had been fighting against the current.

Wanda tried to make amends, but Jarvis started putting some distance while Wanda felt her whole world came crushing down in the way of her mother expectations, her relationship with Jarvis, and the lack of control she had on the situation.

Wanda wished she could fix everything. In her mind, her life had gone to hell after she met you and what happened that night.

In her mind, her world had crumbled down like a house of cards the moment she came across you on that fateful night of Halloween 2024.

And now, one year later Wanda was even more convince that you, Y/N Y/LN/ were the harbinger of her ruin, and there was nothing Wanda could do to stop you or her from falling deep into the void unfolding in front of her green eyes.

___________________________________________________________

Next Chapter: Reader meets Nathalya Maximoff. Wanda has to give a lot of explanations. Reader is having the time of her life teasing and making Wanda squirm and Kate has hope for the future.

[ilovemarvel97]

Disturbance

Elizabeth Olsen x G!P Cop!Reader

Summary: Y/N receive a call of a disturbance and she goes to check not knowing she will find none other than the Elizabeth Olsen. 

Words: 15k+

Request: Yes

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, (18+), Angst

A/N: Thank you for requesting for cop!reader. Hope everybody will like it!

Main Masterlist

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Y/N’s POV

The night shift was usually quiet in this part of town.

Y/N rested one hand loosely on the steering wheel, the other near the radio, eyes scanning the dimly lit street. The glow of the dashboard lights reflected faintly off her jawline—calm, controlled, focused.

Dispatch crackled through the speaker. “Unit 24, we’ve received a disturbance call. Possible loud argument, 400 block of Sycamore. Any unit nearby?”

Y/N glanced at the street sign she had just passed and pressed the radio button. “This is unit 24. I’m two streets over. I’ll take it.”

“Copy that.”

She turned the cruiser smoothly, lights flashing briefly before she shut them off near the address—no need to escalate unless necessary. The house was quiet from the outside. Large windows, warm lighting inside. No shouting. No visible signs of damage. Still, protocol.

She stepped out of the cruiser, boots hitting the pavement with quiet authority. The cool air brushed against her uniform as she approached the front door and knocked firmly.

A pause. Then footsteps.

The door opened—and for half a second, Y/N forgot why she was there.

Elizabeth Olsen stood in the doorway, barefoot, wearing an oversized sweater that slipped slightly off one shoulder. Her hair was loose, slightly messy, like she’d run her fingers through it in frustration. Or distraction.

Her eyes flicked to the badge on Y/N’s chest, then up to her face. “Oh,” Lizzie said softly.

Professional. Stay professional.

“Good evening, ma’am,” Y/N said calmly. “I’m Officer Y/F/N. We received a call about a disturbance.”

Lizzie leaned lightly against the doorframe, looking slightly amused. “A disturbance?” she repeated. “That’s interesting.”

“Neighbors reported raised voices.”

A small smile tugged at Lizzie’s lips—not embarrassed, almost playful. “Well,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “I do talk to myself when I’m reading scripts.”

Y/N’s eyes flicked past her shoulder, scanning the living room. No overturned furniture. No broken glass. No sign of anyone else. “Anyone else inside?” she asked.

“Just me.”

There was something about the way Lizzie held eye contact—confident, curious, studying her.

Y/N shifted her stance slightly. “Mind if I step in and take a quick look, just to confirm everything’s alright?”

Lizzie hesitated for a second, then stepped aside. “Of course, Officer Y/F/N.” The way she said it lingered a little longer than necessary.

Y/N stepped inside, senses alert despite the quiet house. The place smelled faintly like vanilla and something floral. Soft music hummed somewhere deeper in the house. Lizzie closed the door behind her.

“Like I said,” she continued casually, “no fight. Just me being dramatic.”

Y/N walked through the living room, eyes trained, taking in every detail out of habit. Everything looked normal.

When she turned back, Lizzie was watching her—not nervously, but openly.

“You always this serious?” Lizzie asked.

“Comes with the job.”

Lizzie took a small step closer—not enough to invade her space, but enough that Y/N noticed the warmth coming from her. “And what if I said I feel much safer now?” she murmured.

Y/N’s jaw tightened slightly. “Safety’s the goal,” she replied evenly.

Lizzie’s smile deepened. “Well then, Officer… I suppose I should thank you for responding so quickly.”

Y/N held her gaze for a second too long before stepping back toward the door. “This is just a warning check. If neighbors call again, we’ll have to escalate.”

Lizzie nodded slowly. “I’ll try to keep my dramatic monologues quieter.”

A beat of silence hung between them—charged.

Y/N reached the door. “If there’s nothing else—”

Lizzie moved to open it, but paused with her hand resting on the knob. “There is one thing,” she said.

Y/N raised a brow slightly.

Lizzie looked up at her, eyes bright with mischief. “Will I be seeing you around again, Officer Y/F/N?”

And there it was—not accidental, not innocent.

Y/N kept her voice steady. “That depends on whether you keep causing disturbances.”

Lizzie’s smile turned playful. “Maybe I will.”

Y/N stepped outside, composure intact—barely. She didn’t look back, but she could feel Lizzie watching her from the doorway. And as Y/N slid back into the cruiser, something told her this wouldn’t be the last time she was called to this address.

Not by accident.

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The next time Y/N saw Elizabeth Olsen was in the last place Y/N expected herself to be.

Comic Con.

The convention center was louder than a stadium. Thousands of fans packed the halls, many dressed as superheroes, villains, or characters from every universe imaginable. Bright lights flashed from camera phones while excited voices echoed off the high ceilings.

Y/N stood near the barricade separating the main walkway from the celebrity panel stage, arms folded loosely behind her back. Her uniform was crisp, badge catching the overhead lights as she scanned the crowd with practiced focus. Security for large events wasn’t unusual for the department—extra presence kept things organized. Still, this wasn’t exactly her usual patrol.

A group of cosplayers rushed past dressed as Avengers, plastic shields and foam hammers bouncing as they laughed. Y/N barely reacted. Professional. Alert. Calm.

After nearly an hour on her feet, she finally stepped away for a moment, heading down the quieter hallway that led backstage. The noise of the convention faded behind the heavy doors, replaced with muffled chatter and the distant hum of equipment. She pushed open the restroom door, splashed some cold water on her face, and straightened her uniform before stepping back into the hallway.

That’s when someone tapped her shoulder—light, deliberate.

Y/N turned immediately, instincts sharp.

And froze.

Elizabeth Olsen stood there, smiling. Not the casual, teasing smile from the doorway of her house—this one was warmer, like she’d been hoping it would be Y/N.

“Well,” Lizzie said softly, tilting her head slightly, “if it isn’t Officer Y/F/N.”

For a moment, Y/N said nothing.

Lizzie was dressed for the event—fitted jeans, boots, and a simple black jacket. A convention badge hung around her neck, and a few strands of her hair had escaped the loose ponytail behind her head. But it was her eyes that caught Y/N again—bright, curious.

“You’re the disturbance from Sycamore Street,” Y/N finally said.

Lizzie laughed quietly. “That’s how you remember me?”

“It’s in the report.”

Lizzie stepped a little closer, clearly amused. “I didn’t realize you worked events like this.”

“Extra security detail,” Y/N replied. Her posture remained straight, hands resting casually near her belt, though she was suddenly very aware of how close Lizzie was standing.

Lizzie’s gaze flicked over the uniform—slowly. “You look good in it,” she said.

Y/N’s expression barely changed, but the corner of her jaw tightened. “It’s a uniform.”

“Still,” Lizzie shrugged lightly, “not everyone makes it look that intimidating.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “I’m not trying to intimidate anyone.”

Lizzie smiled knowingly. “You intimidated me a little.”

“Did I?”

“A little,” Lizzie admitted, her voice softening slightly. “But I also kind of hoped I’d run into you again.”

That caught Y/N off guard more than she expected. “You intentionally came over here?”

Lizzie lifted one shoulder. “I saw you from the hallway. Hard to miss the tall officer standing by herself watching the crowd like she’s guarding the President.”

“That’s my job.”

Lizzie leaned lightly against the wall beside her. “Well, Officer Y/F/N… I’m glad your job brought you here today.”

A group of staff members walked past down the hallway, briefly interrupting the moment. Neither of them moved.

“You here for a panel?” Y/N asked.

Lizzie nodded. “Marvel panel in twenty minutes.”

Of course.

Y/N had suspected, but hearing it confirmed made the situation feel slightly surreal.

Lizzie studied her again for a moment. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I never properly thanked you.”

“For what?”

“For making sure I wasn’t getting into trouble that night.”

Y/N huffed faintly. “You weren’t in trouble.”

“Not yet.”

That teasing tone was back—and somehow even more distracting in person.

Lizzie pushed herself off the wall. “Well,” she said, glancing toward the direction of the stage entrance, “I should probably go before someone comes looking for me.”

She took a step away, then paused, turning back toward Y/N. “You still on patrol tonight, Officer Y/F/N?”

“Yes.”

Lizzie’s smile returned—slow, slightly mischievous. “Good.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes slightly. “Why?”

Lizzie took another step backward down the hallway. “Just wondering,” she said lightly, then added, almost like an afterthought, “Maybe I’ll cause another disturbance.”

And with that, she turned and disappeared down the hallway toward the stage.

Y/N stood there for a moment longer than she should have. Then she exhaled quietly and adjusted the collar of her uniform. Somehow, the convention suddenly felt much louder again. And something told her that Elizabeth Olsen was about to become a very regular part of her patrol route.

---

The rest of the convention passed without incident—mostly. Y/N remained stationed near the barricades for the Marvel panel, eyes scanning the crowd out of habit. Fans cheered loudly when the actors stepped onto the stage, cameras flashing like lightning across the hall. From where she stood, Y/N could see Elizabeth Olsen on stage—smiling, laughing with the other cast members, answering questions from the moderator. To everyone else in the room, she looked completely at ease.

But once—just once—Lizzie’s gaze drifted toward the side of the stage. Toward the security area. Toward Y/N. The look lasted barely a second. Still, Y/N noticed.

She forced herself to look back at the crowd. Professional. Focus on the job.

---

Y/N shift ended a few hours later.

By the time she got back into her patrol car, the sky had darkened completely, streetlights flickering on across the quiet neighborhood streets. For a while, nothing happened—just routine patrol. Checking intersections, driving past closed stores, responding to a minor parking complaint.

Then the radio crackled again.

“Unit 24, disturbance complaint. Loud music reported, 400 block of Sycamore.”

Y/N froze for a split second.

Sycamore.

Dispatch continued, “Neighbors reporting excessive noise.”

Y/N pressed the radio button slowly. “Unit 24… I’m nearby.”

A pause. Then—“Copy that.”

Y/N exhaled through her nose.

Unbelievable.

She turned the cruiser down the familiar street, headlights sweeping across the quiet houses. Sure enough, the music was audible before she even parked—not blaring, just loud enough that the bass carried across the neighborhood.

Y/N stepped out of the cruiser, already knowing exactly whose house she was walking toward. The same warm lights glowed from the windows. The same porch.

She knocked. Once. Twice.

The music stopped almost immediately. Footsteps approached. The door opened.

Lizzie stood there again.

This time wearing soft lounge pants and a loose tank top, hair slightly messy like she’d just taken it down from a ponytail. Her smile was completely unapologetic.

“Well,” she said softly, leaning against the doorframe again, “Officer Y/F/N.”

Y/N crossed her arms slowly. “We need to stop meeting like this.”

Lizzie bit back a grin. “Do we?”

“Your neighbors filed another complaint.”

Lizzie glanced back inside casually. “Oh.” Then she looked at Y/N again. “Was it too loud?”

“Yes.”

Lizzie nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll turn it down.”

She didn’t move.

Y/N raised an eyebrow.

Lizzie’s lips curved. “You came pretty fast,” she added.

“I was nearby.”

“Convenient.”

Y/N stared at her for a moment. “You knew I was on patrol tonight.”

Lizzie didn’t even try to deny it. “Maybe.”

Y/N exhaled slowly. “You can’t call noise complaints just to see me.”

“I didn’t call it,” Lizzie said innocently. “My neighbors did.”

A pause.

Then Lizzie tilted her head slightly. “And… who said I wanted to see you.” She say with a smirk. 

Y/N ignore her comment and rubbed her temple briefly. “This is not a good use of police resources.”

Lizzie stepped a little closer, lowering her voice. “And yet you’re here.”

Y/N met her gaze. “Because it’s my job.”

Lizzie held eye contact. “And because you wanted to see if it was me.”

That landed closer to the truth than Y/N liked.

She didn’t respond.

Lizzie’s smile softened just a little. “You could come in, you know,” she said quietly.

Y/N immediately shook her head. “No.”

“It’s just music.”

“Still no.”

Lizzie leaned against the frame again. “Coffee, then?”

“I’m on duty.”

“You’re very difficult, Officer Y/F/N.”

“I’m professional.”

Lizzie studied her for a long second, then sighed dramatically. “Fine.”

She reached back into the house and turned the music completely off. “There,” she said. “Disturbance resolved.”

Y/N nodded. “Thank you.”

She started to turn toward her cruiser.

“Wait.”

Y/N paused.

Lizzie stepped forward onto the porch. “You never answered my question earlier.”

Y/N looked back at her. “What question?”

Lizzie crossed her arms lightly. “Will I be seeing you around again?”

Y/N considered her for a moment, then said calmly, “That depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether you keep causing disturbances.”

Lizzie smiled slowly. “Well,” she said, “I suppose I’ll just have to behave then.”

Y/N nodded once and walked back toward the cruiser.

But as she opened the door—

Lizzie called out behind her. “Goodnight, Officer Y/F/N.”

Y/N paused, then glanced back over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Ms. Olsen.”

Lizzie’s smile lingered long after the cruiser disappeared down the street.

And for the first time that night—The house on Sycamore was completely quiet.

---

One Week Later

A week passed without another call from Sycamore Street. No loud music. No disturbance complaints. Which, if Y/N was honest with herself, was… slightly disappointing.

Tonight, however, she wasn’t on patrol. The club was packed, music vibrating through the floor and up into the walls. Colored lights flashed across the dance floor while people crowded the bar, shouting orders over the bass. Y/N leaned back in her chair at a small table with three other officers from her precinct. Her uniform was gone for the night, replaced with dark jeans, boots, and a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her forearms—still unmistakably cop energy.

One of her coworkers, Marcus, raised his glass. “To surviving another week of paperwork and noise complaints.”

Y/N smirked faintly and lifted her own drink and they clinked glasses.

“Speaking of noise complaints,” another officer said with a grin, “didn’t you get called to some celebrity’s house last week?”

Marcus leaned forward immediately. “Oh yeah, that story! The actress, right?”

Y/N took a slow sip of her drink. “It was a routine call.”

Marcus snorted. “Sure it was.”

Y/N ignored him.

After a while, the group decided to grab another round. Y/N pushed her chair back and stood. “I’ll go.”

Marcus handed her his empty glass. “Bring back something strong.”

Y/N made her way toward the bar, weaving through the crowd. The bass was loud enough that she could feel it in her chest. She reached the counter just as someone else stepped into the space beside her.

Both of them spoke at the same time. “Can I get—”They stopped.

Y/N turned her head. And there she was.

Elizabeth Olsen

Lizzie blinked in surprise before a slow smile spread across her face. “Well,” she said over the music, “Officer Y/F/N.”

Y/N raised a brow, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Ms. Olsen.”

Lizzie’s gaze moved slowly over her outfit. “You’re not in uniform tonight.”

“Nope,” Y/N replied, relaxed against the bar. “Off duty.”

Lizzie tilted her head slightly, clearly taking that in. “Interesting.”

The bartender approached.

“Tequila,” Lizzie said.

“Whiskey,” Y/N added.

A moment later, the drinks slid across the counter. Lizzie picked up her shot glass but paused, eyes drifting back to Y/N. “You clean up well, Officer.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “You’re still flirting.”

“Maybe.”

Y/N leaned one elbow on the bar, looking directly at her now. “Well,” she said calmly, “I’m off duty tonight.”

Lizzie’s brows lifted slightly. “Oh?”

Y/N lifted her whiskey glass, taking a slow sip before answering, “So technically… I’m allowed to flirt back.”

Lizzie laughed, clearly pleased. “Good. Because I was starting to think you just enjoyed pretending you weren’t interested.”

Y/N smirked. “I don’t need to pretend now.”

That made Lizzie pause—only for a second. Then she took her tequila shot and set the glass down. “My friends dragged me here after filming wrapped today,” she said, glancing over her shoulder toward a table where a group of actors sat laughing.

Y/N followed her gaze. “Co-stars?”

“Unfortunately.”

Y/N chuckled.

Lizzie turned back toward her. “And you? Who are you here with?”

“Coworkers.”

Lizzie’s eyes sparkled slightly. “Police officers?”

“Yeah.”

She leaned a little closer so she wouldn’t have to shout over the music. “That explains the intimidating table in the corner.”

Y/N laughed under her breath. “They’re harmless.”

Lizzie studied her for a moment, then smiled slowly. “You know,” she said, voice softer now, “you keep showing up in places I’m not expecting.”

Y/N shrugged. “Maybe you just have a habit of running into me.”

Lizzie leaned her shoulder lightly against the bar. “Maybe I do.”

A brief silence settled between them as the music pulsed through the room. Then Lizzie tilted her head. “If you weren’t here with coworkers,” she said, “I’d probably try to steal you for a dance.”

Y/N met her gaze without hesitation this time. “Who says you can’t?”

Lizzie blinked. “You’d abandon your colleagues?”

“They’ll survive.”

Lizzie laughed again, clearly enjoying this new version of Y/N. “You’re very different when you’re not in uniform.”

“Less rules,” Y/N said simply.

Lizzie took a small step closer. “And what other rules disappear when you’re off duty, Officer Y/F/N?”

Y/N leaned closer as well, voice low enough that only Lizzie could hear. “Depends who I’m talking to.”

For the first time since they’d met—Lizzie looked slightly flustered. Then she recovered with a grin. “Well,” she said, “maybe we should test that theory.”

Y/N picked up the drinks she’d ordered. “Let me drop these off first.”

Lizzie crossed her arms casually. “I’ll be right here.”

Y/N stepped away, weaving back through the crowd toward her table. Marcus immediately leaned forward when she arrived. “Why did that take so long?”

Y/N set the drinks down. “Line was long.” Marcus glanced toward the bar, then his eyes widened. “Wait… isn’t that—”

Y/N grabbed her whiskey. “Don’t start.” Marcus grinned. “Oh you are absolutely leaving this table again.”

Y/N shook her head but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips. Because across the room—Lizzie was still standing at the bar. And she was watching her. Not casually either.

Her arms rested lightly against the counter, one shoulder leaning into the bar as if she had nowhere else to be. Her eyes stayed fixed on Y/N through the shifting crowd, the corner of her mouth tilted in a knowing smile.

Marcus followed Y/N’s line of sight to check the girl properly. Then he choked on his drink.

“Holy—”

Y/N set the glasses down on the table. “Don’t.”

Marcus pointed toward the bar. “That’s Elizabeth Olsen!”

Another officer turned around immediately. “No way.”

Y/N grabbed her own whiskey glass and took a quick sip. “Relax.”

Marcus leaned closer. “Relax? She’s staring at you.”

Y/N glanced back again. Lizzie hadn’t moved. If anything, the smile on her face had gotten slightly more amused.

Marcus slowly looked back at Y/N. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Why are you still here? She’s waiting for you!”

Y/N shrugged casually. “If you stop talking to me, I would be there already!”

Marcus dropped back into his chair dramatically. “This is the best night of my life.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, finishing the rest of her drink. “Don’t wait up.” Before anyone else could say anything, she turned and started walking back toward the bar. The crowd shifted around her as she crossed the dance floor, lights flashing across the room in bursts of blue and red.

Lizzie noticed immediately. Her smile widened just a little as Y/N approached.

“Took you long enough,” Lizzie said.

Y/N stopped beside her, leaning one forearm against the bar. “Had to make sure my coworkers didn’t follow me.”

Lizzie laughed softly. “They seemed very interested.”

“They’re nosy.”

Lizzie studied her for a moment. “You came back.”

“You said you’d be here.”

Lizzie lifted a brow. “And you always do what people tell you?”

Y/N smirked. “Only when I want to.”

Lizzie tilted her head slightly, clearly enjoying the shift in tone. “So,” she said, glancing briefly toward the dance floor, “were you serious earlier?”

“About what?”

“The dancing.”

Y/N looked toward the crowded floor—bodies moving under flashing lights, music pounding through the room—then back at Lizzie. “You still trying to steal me?”

Lizzie stepped a little closer. “Maybe.”

Y/N pushed herself off the bar. “Well,” she said calmly, “let’s see if you can.”

Lizzie blinked, then laughed. “You’re challenging me?”

Y/N held out her hand slightly. “Thought you wanted a dance.”

Lizzie didn’t hesitate. She placed her hand in Y/N’s—her fingers warm—and Y/N led her through the crowd toward the dance floor.

As soon as they stepped into the lights, the bass vibrated through the floor beneath them. Lizzie moved closer so they could hear each other. “You know,” she said, smiling up at her, “this is definitely not how I expected our third meeting to go.”

Y/N’s hand rested lightly at her waist as the music pulsed around them. “Disappointed?”

Lizzie shook her head slowly. “Very much the opposite.”

The space between them grew smaller as people moved around them, the dance floor pulsing with bodies and flashing lights, bass rolling through the club like a heartbeat. At first, they danced close but still respectful—Y/N’s hand steady and warm at Lizzie’s waist, Lizzie moving easily with the music, occasionally glancing up at her with a playful look that made Y/N’s chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with the noise or heat.

Then the song changed. The beat dropped into something slower. Heavier.

The kind of song that made the crowd instinctively press closer together.

Lizzie looked up at Y/N, eyes sparkling with mischief. Before Y/N could ask what that look meant, Lizzie turned around, catching Y/N’s hand and guiding it more firmly to her waist.

The message was clear.

Don’t move it.

Y/N’s fingers tightened slightly where they rested against Lizzie’s side.

Lizzie leaned back against her, body fitting easily as she began to move with the rhythm—hips rolling slowly to the beat, controlled, confident, like she knew exactly what she was doing.

And maybe she did.

Y/N swallowed, her other hand instinctively settling more securely at Lizzie’s waist to steady her as the space between them disappeared completely.

Lizzie kept moving against her—slow, deliberate. Y/N started to move as well.

Lizzie reach a hand up, hooking on y/n neck as she turn her head to whisper in Y/N ear, “you dance well officer.” 

Y/N squeeze lightly Lizzie’s waist, making the latter smile wider. Lizzie continue to roll her hips back, still in the beat. 

Then suddenly—She stilled.

Just for a second.

Lizzie glanced down slightly, brows knitting in confusion. Then she turned, stepping close enough that Y/N could feel her breath when she leaned up toward her ear.

“Are you packing?” Lizzie murmured, voice teasing over the music.

The question hit Y/N like a spark. Heat rushed up her neck. Y/N shook her head quickly. “No,” she said quietly, leaning down so Lizzie could hear her over the bass. “I’m… intersex.”

For a second, Lizzie just looked at her. Her eyes widened slightly—not shocked, more surprised in a way that made curiosity bloom across her expression.

Then something in her gaze shifted.

Something bold. Something intrigued.

Before Y/N could read it fully, Lizzie grabbed her hand.

“Come on.”

Y/N blinked. “Lizzie—”

But Lizzie was already moving, weaving through the crowd while still holding her hand tightly. People parted as they pushed their way off the dance floor.

“You do realize,” Y/N said with a breathless laugh as she followed, “you’re dragging a police officer out of a club.”

Lizzie glanced back with a grin. “You’re off duty.”

They burst through the doors and out into the cool night air. The sudden quiet after the pounding music made the moment feel almost surreal.

Lizzie didn’t slow down. She lifted her hand, flagging down a cab pulling up to the curb.

The taxi stopped.

Lizzie opened the door and pulled Y/N inside with her. They slid into the back seat together. Lizzie leaned forward. “400 block of Sycamore, please,” she told the driver. The cab pulled away, city lights sliding past the windows.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Lizzie leaned back against the seat, turning slightly toward Y/N—her hand still wrapped around Y/N’s. She didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she did. Her eyes drifted slowly over Y/N again—the dark shirt, the strong line of her shoulders, the way she filled the seat beside her.

Lizzie smirked softly.

Slowly, almost absentmindedly, she shifted closer. The cab wasn’t big to begin with, but somehow the space between them shrank even more.

Her hand slid from where it had been resting on Y/N’s.

Lower. Not rushing. Just exploring. Her fingers brushed along Y/N’s thigh first, light and curious, as if testing whether Y/N would stop her.

Y/N didn’t move. If anything, she leaned back deeper into the seat, watching Lizzie with a calm that didn’t quite match the heat building in her chest.

Lizzie’s hand moved a little higher along Y/N’s thigh, stopping just short of the obvious tension beneath the dark fabric of her jeans.

Close. Very close.

Her fingers hovered there for a moment before resting lightly against Y/N’s leg.

And all Y/N could think about was how far Lizzie’s house was—because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold back. 

---

The cab ride felt like an eternity, the hum of the engine and the flickering streetlights providing a rhythmic backdrop to the tension thick enough to touch. By the time the taxi screeched to a halt in front of the familiar house on Sycamore Street, the air between them was practically electric.

The moment the front door clicked open, all pretense of patience vanished. Y/N didn’t even have the door fully closed before Lizzie’s hands were in her hair, pulling her down. They collided in a kiss that was frantic and hungry, a desperate release of the tension that had been building since that first disturbance call. It wasn't polite; it was a collision of teeth and tongues and stifled groans.

Lizzie didn't break the connection for a second. She moved backward into the darkened foyer, her hands gripping the collar of Y/N’s button-down to pull her along. Y/N followed blindly, her foot hooking the door and slamming it shut with a heavy thud before her hand found the deadbolt, locking the world out without ever taking her eyes off Lizzie.

The moment the lock clicked, Lizzie shifted. With a surge of energy, she jumped, her arms winding tightly around Y/N’s neck. Y/N reacted instantly, her hands sliding under Lizzie’s thighs to catch her, hoisting her up and pinning her against the closed door.

Lizzie’s legs wrapped firmly around Y/N’s waist, her body molding perfectly against the officer's strong frame. The friction was immediate, a sharp reminder of the confession in the club that had sent them spiraling toward this moment.

Lizzie pulled back just an inch, her lips swollen and her breath coming in ragged hitches. Her eyes were dark, blown wide with a mix of adrenaline and pure, unadulterated want.

“Upstairs,” Lizzie whispered against Y/N’s lips, her voice a low, gravelly command that sent a shiver straight down Y/N’s spine. “Second room on the right.”

She didn’t wait for an answer before diving back in, her kiss even more demanding than the last. Y/N didn't need to be told twice. Keeping her grip secure on Lizzie’s thighs, she began to navigate the hallway, her boots heavy on the hardwood as she carried the actress toward the stairs, neither of them willing to break the contact for even a heartbeat.

Each step up the stairs felt like a challenge. Y/N tried not to bump as she navigated the climb without breaking the kiss. Lizzie was a whirlwind in her arms—fingers tugging at Y/N’s hair, her chest heaving against Y/N’s as they crested the landing.

When they reached the second door on the right, Y/N didn’t bother with finesse. She nudged the door open with her shoulder, the moonlight from the large windows spilling across a messy bed and a discarded script on the floor.

Y/N carried her straight to the mattress, lowering her down but never fully letting go. As Lizzie’s back hit the soft linens, she didn't pull Y/N down with her—not yet. Instead, she sat up on her elbows, her eyes tracing the silhouette of the officer hovering over her. “The uniform was good,” Lizzie breathed, her voice dropping into that sultry, deliberate tone she used on stage, but this time, it was entirely real. “But I think I like this version better. The one who doesn't follow the rules.” Y/N reached down, her thumbs tracing the line of Lizzie’s jaw. The "professional" facade had been stripped away, replaced by a raw, focused intensity.

"You've been asking for a disturbance all week, Ms. Olsen," Y/N murmured, her voice vibrating low in her throat. She leaned in, her lips hovering just a breath away from Lizzie’s ear. "I'd hate to disappoint a citizen."

Lizzie let out a shaky laugh that turned into a gasp as Y/N’s hands moved from her jaw down to the hem of her tank top. Lizzie arched her back, helping Y/N slide the fabric up and over her head, throwing it blindly toward the corner of the room.

The playfulness from the club was gone, replaced by a heavy, magnetic pull. Lizzie reached for the buttons of Y/N’s black shirt, her fingers fumbling slightly in her haste. Y/N took over, snapping the buttons open with efficient, practiced movements until the shirt was tossed aside, leaving her in just her undershirt, her physique highlighted by the pale moonlight.

Lizzie’s breath hitched as she looked at her—really looked at her. Her hands came up to rest on Y/N’s shoulders, feeling the solid heat of her skin. “No more talking,” Lizzie whispered, pulling Y/N back down into the pillows.

Lizzie’s hands locked behind Y/N’s neck, pulling her down with a strength born of pure desperation. The kiss was no longer a tease; it was a battle. Their tongues tangled and fought for dominance, a feverish exchange that tasted of whiskey, tequila, and the sharp electricity of the last two weeks. Lizzie let out a muffled moan against Y/N’s lips, her back arching off the mattress as she sought more friction, more contact.

Y/N’s free hand didn’t stay still. It wandered with a slow, agonizing intent along the curve of Lizzie’s ribs, her fingertips dancing over the sensitive skin and making Lizzie shiver violently. The touch was grounding yet localizing the heat, moving upward until Y/N’s palm finally cupped the soft weight of Lizzie’s breast.

The sensation made Lizzie’s breath hitch, her rhythm breaking for a split second as she melted into the touch. Y/N finally broke the kiss, her breathing labored as she trailed a path of wet, searing heat down Lizzie’s throat. She moved lower, her nose brushing against the lace of Lizzie’s bra. With a steady, practiced hand, Y/N hooked her fingers under the edge of the cup, slowly peeling the fabric back.

The lace gave way, revealing Lizzie’s breast to the pale moonlight. Her nipple was already peaked, a testament to the chill in the air and the fire in the room. Lizzie’s head fell back into the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a long, shaky exhale. “Y/N...” she whimpered, her fingers digging into Y/N’s shoulders, "Please."

Y/N didn't make her wait. She leaned down, her warm breath ghosting over the bared skin for a heartbeat before she swirled her tongue around the tip, savoring the way Lizzie’s entire body jolted at the contact.

Lizzie’s fingers tangled deep into Y/N’s hair, her knuckles white as she held Y/N’s head against her chest. A choked, breathless curse left her lips—something raw—as Y/N’s tongue continued its deliberate, swirling torture. The contrast of Y/N’s warm mouth against the cool night air sent waves of heat crashing through Lizzie, making her toes curl into the expensive silk sheets.

"Oh god, Y/N," Lizzie gasped, her hips rolling up instinctively, seeking the solid weight of the woman above her.

Y/N didn’t let up. She increased the pressure, her tongue flicking across the sensitive peak before she drew the entire length into her mouth, sucking firmly. The sound of it, wet and intimate in the quiet room, broke whatever was left of Lizzie’s composure. Her back arched violently, her breath hitching in a high-pitched whine as she pressed Y/N closer, as if she were trying to pull the officer right through her skin.

Y/N’s hand, still cupping Lizzie’s other breast, began to knead the soft flesh, her thumb mimicking the rhythm of her mouth on the opposite side. The double assault was too much. Lizzie’s hands shifted from Y/N’s hair to her shoulders, her nails digging in slightly as she tried to find some kind of anchor in the storm.

"You're... you're doing this on purpose," Lizzie managed to ground out, a shaky, desperate laugh bubbling in her throat even as she shivered.

Y/N pulled back just enough to look up, her eyes dark and heavy with a focus that was far more dangerous than any professional stare she’d given on the street. A stray drop of moisture glistened on her lower lip, and the sight of it made Lizzie’s heart skip a beat.

"I just can’t stop," Y/N murmured, her voice a low, gravelly vibration that Lizzie felt in her very bones. “You taste so sweet."

Y/N leaned up, capturing Lizzie’s lips in a kiss that was slower this time, deeper—tasting the surrender in Lizzie’s breath. It was a silent promise of what was coming next. As they pulled apart, Y/N’s gaze lingered on Lizzie’s flushed face before she began her descent, her lips trailing a path of fire down the center of Lizzie’s stomach. Each kiss was a deliberate mark of intent. Lizzie’s breath came in short, jagged hitches, her hands clutching at the blankets as Y/N moved lower.

When Y/N reached the waistband of the lounge pants, she didn't hesitate. Her hands hooked into the fabric, and with a smooth, firm tug, she pulled the pants and the thin lace beneath them down Lizzie’s long legs. The cool air hit Lizzie’s skin, but it was immediately replaced by the radiating heat of Y/N’s presence.

Lizzie felt completely exposed, the moonlight illuminating every curve, but the way Y/N looked at her—with a raw, hunger-filled reverence—made her feel powerful instead of vulnerable.

Y/N knelt between Lizzie's knees, her hands sliding up to grip Lizzie’s thighs, spreading them slightly. The sight of her there, the "intimidating" officer now completely focused on Lizzie’s pleasure, made Lizzie’s head light.

"Y/N," Lizzie breathed, her voice a mix of a plea and a command.

Y/N looked up, a dark smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You wanted to see the off-duty version of me, Lizzie," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous level. "I think it’s time I showed you exactly how I handle a certain disturbance." She leaned forward, her breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of Lizzie's inner thigh, making the actress cry out and arch her back in anticipation.

Y/N didn’t make her wait another second. She leaned in, her tongue finding the center of Lizzie’s heat with a slow, broad stroke that made Lizzie’s entire body go rigid. A sharp, broken gasp escaped Lizzie’s throat, her fingers instantly finding Y/N’s hair again, but this time her grip was frantic, pulling her closer.

Y/N let out a low, vibrating moan against Lizzie’s skin, the sound muffled by the intimacy of the act. "God, Lizzie," Y/N breathed, the heat of her words ghosting over the sensitive folds. "You taste so sweet... better than I imagined."

She dove back in, her pace picking up. Y/N used her tongue with the same practiced focus she used for everything, but there was a raw hunger here that was anything but professional. She licked deep and rhythmic, swirling around the hypersensitive peak before dragging her tongue back down.

Lizzie was coming apart. Her head thrashed against the pillows, her hips rolling and lifting off the bed in a desperate attempt to get more of Y/N. The sound of wet, rhythmic sliding filled the quiet room, punctuated by Lizzie’s high, melodic whimpers.

"Y/N... please, oh god," Lizzie sobbed out, her nails scratching lightly against Y/N’s scalp.

The air in the room was thick with the scent of vanilla and the raw, heavy musk of desire. Y/N ignored the frantic tugging on her hair, her focus narrowing down to the center of Lizzie’s heat. With a steady, deliberate motion, Y/N used her thumbs to spread Lizzie’s folds, exposing the glistening, sensitive skin to the moonlight. Lizzie let out a broken sound—half-gasp, half-sob—as the cool air hit her, but the chill didn't last long.

Y/N leaned in, her tongue sliding deep into Lizzie’s entrance. The contact was electric. Lizzie’s back arched so violently her shoulders almost left the mattress, her fingers digging into Y/N’s scalp as she tried to anchor herself. Y/N didn’t pull back; she moved with a rhythmic, taxing pressure, her tongue mimicking the slow, deep slide Lizzie had been begging for.

As she worked, Y/N’s nose brushed against the swollen bud of Lizzie’s clitoris. The accidental friction sent a jolt straight through the actress.

"Y/N! Right there," Lizzie screamed, her voice cracking.

Recognizing the shift, Y/N pivoted. She kept her tongue moving deep inside, but began to rhythmically flick her nose upward, catching that hypersensitive peak with every stroke. It was a dual assault that Lizzie wasn't prepared for. Her legs shook, her knees threatening to give out even as she lay flat, and her hands moved from Y/N’s head to the sheets, gripping it so hard that her fingers became white.

Lizzie was no longer the composed movie star; she was a live wire, sparking and crashing under Y/N’s expert touch. "I can't... I’m going to—" Lizzie’s voice trailed off into a series of incoherent stutters as her internal muscles began to clamp down around Y/N’s tongue, the first ripples of a massive climax beginning to take hold.

Just as Lizzie reached the precipice, the sudden absence of Y/N’s tongue made her let out a whimper of pure, frustrated protest. Her eyes snapped open, hooded and glazed with heat, ready to beg—but the words died in her throat.

Y/N stood at the edge of the bed, the moonlight carving out the sharp, powerful lines of her silhouette. With a fluid, athletic motion, she gripped the hem of her undershirt and pulled it over her head, discarding it along with her bra.

Lizzie’s breath hitched. She had seen Y/N in the uniform, and she’d seen the hints of her strength in the club, but the reality of Y/N’s bare skin—the broad shoulders and the lean, functional muscle of her torso—was almost too much to take in.

Y/N didn't waste a second. Her fingers flew to the button of her jeans. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet, and from there a small, foil square, which she brought to her mouth, catching the edge of the condom pack between her teeth. There was something undeniably primal about the gesture, her dark eyes never leaving Lizzie’s as she gripped the waistband of her denim and boxers together. With one firm tug, she kicked the clothes away.

Lizzie’s hands instinctively slid down her own damp inner thighs, her fingers tracing the skin Y/N had just been worshipping. Her gaze was locked on Y/N, taking in the sight of her, fully aroused and undeniably ready. The weight of the moment shifted; the playful teasing of the past week had finally culminated in this raw, physical truth.

Lizzie didn’t wait for Y/N to move. Fueled by a sudden, bold surge of adrenaline, she crawled across the mattress toward the edge of the bed where Y/N stood. Her loose hair fell forward, framing her face as she leaned in, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of Y/N’s length. She didn't break eye contact, her gaze simmering with a mix of mischief and pure hunger.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her hands finding purchase in Lizzie’s hair as she let out a low, guttural groan. Lizzie didn't stop there; she leaned in further, bobbing on Y/N’s length a few times, the sensation and the visual of the famous actress so completely devoted to her pleasure nearly breaking Y/N’s resolve.

Then, Lizzie pulled back and rose to her knees, bringing them eye-to-eye. She reached out and took the foil packet from Y/N’s mouth, her teeth catching the edge to rip it open with a sharp snap. She moved with a slow, deliberate confidence, rolling the rubber down Y/N’s length until she was fully protected and ready.

The moment it was on, Lizzie lunged forward, capturing Y/N’s lips in a kiss so hungry it felt like she was trying to consume her. Y/N met her with equal fervor, her arms wrapping around Lizzie’s waist to lift her back onto the center of the bed. They tumbled onto the pillows, a tangle of limbs and frantic heat, the kiss never breaking as Y/N settled between Lizzie’s spread legs.

The playful banter of the street and the club was a distant memory. Y/N reached down, her fingers steadying her member as she guided it to Lizzie’s entrance. The contact was electric, both of them gasping into the kiss at the first touch of friction.

"Look at me," Y/N whispered against her lips, her voice thick and commanding. Lizzie’s eyes flew open, bright with tears of anticipation, as Y/N began to push forward, slowly merging their bodies into one.

The sensation was overwhelming. As Y/N pushed forward, the slow, steady stretch forced a long, broken moan from Lizzie’s throat. She arched her back, her fingers digging into Y/N’s biceps, feeling every inch of the connection as they became one. It was a perfect, tight fit. 

Y/N stayed still for a moment, buried deep, her forehead resting against Lizzie’s. Both of them were breathing as if they’d just run a marathon, their hearts hammering a frantic rhythm against each other’s chests.

"You okay?" Y/N rasped, her voice thick with the effort of holding back.

Lizzie answered by wrapping her legs around Y/N’s waist and pulling her closer, her heels digging into Y/N’s lower back. "Don't you dare stop," she hissed, a desperate, beautiful command.

Y/N didn't. She began to move, pulling back until she was almost all out before driving back in with a soft thud of hips meeting. The rhythm was slow at first, deliberate and agonizingly deep, each thrust drawing a high, melodic sob from Lizzie.

"Y/N... oh god, Y/N," Lizzie chanted, her head tossing from side to side on the pillow. The pace shifted as the friction built. Y/N gripped Lizzie’s hips, her thumbs pressing into the skin to hold her steady as the movements became faster, more urgent. The sound of their bodies meeting and the soft, wet friction filled the room, a private symphony of the disturbance they had both been craving.

The slow, deep rhythm fractured into something far more primal. Y/N’s grip on Lizzie’s hips was bruisingly firm, her thumbs anchoring into the dip of Lizzie’s waist to meet every frantic roll of her hips. Each thrust was punctuated by the wet, slapping sound of skin on skin, a steady beat that matched the hammering of their hearts.

Y/N leaned down, capturing Lizzie’s mouth in a kiss that was less of a greeting and more of a claim. Their tongues clashed, sliding against one another as they traded gasps and broken moans. Amidst the chaos of the kiss, Y/N’s hand moved upward, her palm grazing over Lizzie’s ribs before cupping one breast. She squeezed the soft weight, her thumb flicking repeatedly over the already sensitive nipple until Lizzie let out a high-pitched whine against her lips.

Breaking the kiss, Y/N trailed her mouth down Lizzie’s throat, leaving a line of searing heat before she latched onto the bared nipple. She sucked hard, her tongue swirling and teasing the peak while she continued to drive into Lizzie with a relentless, punishing pace.

"Y/N... please, please," Lizzie sobbed, her back arching so high her chest pressed harder into Y/N’s mouth.

Y/N suddenly shifted. She pushed herself up, sitting tall while still buried deep inside Lizzie. The change in angle hit a spot that made Lizzie’s eyes roll back into her head. Y/N gripped Lizzie’s waist with both hands, using her strength to lift and pull Lizzie’s hips up to meet her as she accelerated.

The movement was blistering—fast, deep, and rhythmic. Y/N watched Lizzie’s face in the moonlight, seeing the raw vulnerability and the sheer pleasure written in the tension of her jaw. Lizzie’s hands flew to her own stomach, her fingers digging in as her internal muscles began to pulse and clamp around Y/N in a rhythmic, desperate squeeze.

"I'm—I'm going to—" Lizzie’s voice broke into a series of jagged cries as she spiraled over the edge, her body shuddering with the force of a massive, toe-curling climax.

Y/N didn't stop, but she leaned down, her chest heavy against Lizzie’s as she slowed her hips to a grinding, agonizingly deep pace. She captured Lizzie’s mouth again, kissing her deeply, their lips bruising as they shared the taste of the salt on their skin. The kiss was hard, desperate, a silent conversation between the officer and the woman who had finally caught her.

As the waves of Lizzie's release began to settle into a soft tremor, Y/N felt her own limit approaching, but she paused for a moment, her forehead resting against Lizzie’s, both of them panting in the heavy, scented air of the room. Lizzie didn’t let her stay still for long; she reached up, her fingers tangling into the short hairs at the nape of Y/N’s neck, pulling her down into a kiss that was surprisingly soft, slow, and devastatingly intimate.

It was the kind of kiss that shifted the room from a frantic disturbance to something deeper. Lizzie’s lips moved against Y/N’s with a lingering hunger, her tongue tracing Y/N’s bottom lip as if she were trying to memorize the sensation.

"Y/N," Lizzie breathed against her mouth, a soft, shaky whisper.

Y/N reluctantly broke the kiss, the separation of their lips feeling like a physical pull. She withdrew slowly, the sudden absence of her weight making Lizzie let out a small, needy sound of protest. But the protest died in her throat as she watched Y/N move in the moonlight.

Y/N didn't go far. She shifted her weight, the bed creaking under her athletic frame as she moved to the center of the mattress. She reached out, her hands firm yet gentle as she gripped Lizzie’s waist, silently guiding her.

Lizzie understood the unspoken command immediately. She moved with a fluid grace, turning over until she was on her hands and knees, her hair spilling over her shoulders like a silk curtain. The view from behind was devastating—the curve of Lizzie's back, the flush of her skin, and the way she looked back over her shoulder with an expression that was half-dazed and entirely expectant.

Y/N leaned down, her hands sliding over the smooth curves of Lizzie’s thighs to pull her back just an inch further. With a low, appreciative hum, Y/N used her fingers to spread the delicate skin of Lizzie’s core, exposing the glistening heat she had just been worshipping.

The cool air of the room hit Lizzie first, but it was immediately replaced by the searing warmth of Y/N’s tongue. Y/N licked her with long, slow strokes, tasting the sweet, salt-slicked reality of her. Lizzie’s breath hitched, her fingers digging into the pillows as her back arched into the contact.

"You taste so good, Lizzie," Y/N murmured against her skin, her voice a rough, gravelly vibration that made Lizzie’s knees tremble. "I could stay right here all night."

Lizzie let out a broken, needy sound, her head falling forward as she struggled to keep her balance. "Y/N... please... I need—"

Y/N didn't let her finish. She stood back on her knees just enough to position herself, her hands returning to Lizzie’s hips with a grip that was steady and grounding. With one smooth, powerful surge, she slid back in from behind.

The depth of the new angle was staggering. Lizzie let out a sharp, high-pitched cry that was lost in the quiet house, her body yielding to the intrusion as Y/N filled her completely. Y/N didn't give her a second to adjust before she began to move, her chest pressing against Lizzie’s back, her hands sliding up to lock onto Lizzie’s waist to drive the rhythm home.

The sound of their bodies meeting was louder now—rhythmic, wet, and relentless. Y/N buried her face in the crook of Lizzie’s neck, inhaling the scent of vanilla and sweat as she picked up the pace, determined to bring Lizzie to the edge one more time, and this time, herself as well. 

The rhythm became a frantic, desperate thing. Y/N’s hands moved from Lizzie’s waist, one sliding up to grip her shoulder while the other reached forward, her fingers finding the sensitive, swollen bud of Lizzie’s clitoris.

The double friction was the breaking point. Y/N began to drive into her with a relentless, heavy pace, each thrust bottoming out and sending a jolt through Lizzie’s entire frame. The sound of wet, rhythmic contact filled the room, a private symphony of the "disturbance" they had both been chasing since that first night.

"Y/N, I'm—I can't—!" Lizzie’s voice was a ragged, high-pitched sob. Her head thrashed against the pillows as she tried to find air, her internal muscles pulsing and squeezing around Y/N in a rhythmic, desperate trap.

Y/N groaned, the sound deep and guttural, vibrating through her chest and into Lizzie’s back. She didn't slow down. She leaned forward, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin of Lizzie’s shoulder as she delivered several hard, final thrusts.

"Go for it, Lizzie," Y/N rasped, her voice thick with her own looming release. "Come for me."

Lizzie screamed into the pillow, her body stiffening as she spiraled over the edge. The tremors started in her core and radiated outward, her legs shaking so violently she could barely stay upright. Seconds later, Y/N followed her into the abyss. She buried herself deep one last time, her muscles locking as she poured everything into the condom. 

The room fell into a heavy, ringing silence, broken only by the sound of their labored breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. Y/N didn't pull away immediately. She collapsed forward, her weight pressing Lizzie into the mattress, her face buried in the crook of Lizzie’s neck. They stayed like that for a long time—two bodies tangled and cooling in the moonlight—while the adrenaline slowly bled out of the air.

Lizzie was the first to move, her fingers reaching back to weakly stroke Y/N’s arm.

"So," Lizzie whispered, her voice a beautiful, wrecked mess. "Should I... call dispatch and tell them the disturbance has been handled?"

Y/N let out a low, tired chuckle against her skin. "I think the report is going to be a little late tonight."

---

The shift in their relationship was as sudden as it was intense. What started as a "neighborhood disturbance" evolved into a covert, high-stakes arrangement. Elizabeth Olsen, the world-famous actress, and Y/N, the steady-handed police officer, found a rhythm that existed entirely in the spaces between Lizzie’s filming schedule and Y/N’s patrol shifts.

One time was during Lunch Break.

Lizzie had a rare afternoon off during a local shoot. Y/N was halfway through a double shift when her personal phone vibrated in her pocket.

Lizzie: I'm reading a script for a horror movie. I think I heard a "suspicious noise" in the kitchen. Better come investigate. Now.

Y/N showed up twenty minutes later in full uniform. She didn't even make it past the foyer. Lizzie met her at the door wearing nothing but one of Y/N’s discarded gym shirts. The "investigation" took place against the closed front door, Y/N’s utility belt clinking rhythmically against the wood as Lizzie wrapped her legs around her waist, demanding a different kind of service. Y/N had to straighten her tie and check her face for stray lipstick in the cruiser mirror before heading back to the precinct.

Another time was right before one of Lizzie’s Red Carpet. 

Before a major premiere, Lizzie’s house was a whirlwind of stylists and publicists. Y/N stayed tucked away in the bedroom, watching the chaos from a distance. Once the glam squad finally cleared out, Lizzie ducked back into the room, looking breathtaking in a floor-length, backless silk gown.

“I have ten minutes before the car gets here,” Lizzie whispered, backing Y/N up against the bed.

Y/N’s hands were careful not to wrinkle the designer fabric as she hiked the skirt up just enough. The contrast of the high-glamour gown and the raw, frantic pace they shared was a dizzying rush. When Lizzie walked out to the waiting limo, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, leaving Y/N to catch her breath in the quiet house.

Sometimes, it wasn't about the heat—it was about the comedown. After a particularly grueling shift for Y/N, she’d arrive at Sycamore Street at 3:00 AM. Lizzie would be awake, waiting with two glasses of wine or a pot of tea.

They’d sit on the oversized couch, Y/N’s head in Lizzie’s lap. Lizzie would run her fingers through Y/N’s hair, listening to the mundane details of the shit shift Y/N had and the paperwork she had to do after that, while Lizzie talked about the pressures of the industry. These nights usually ended in slow, languid movements under the heavy duvet—intimacy that felt less like a "disturbance" and more like a sanctuary.

---

They crossed paths again at another convention, but this time, the secret was theirs. As Y/N stood post near the green room, Lizzie walked past with her entourage. She didn't stop, but as she brushed past, her hand "accidentally" grazed Y/N’s hand, her pinky hooking Y/N’s for a split second.

Lizzie leaned in as if to ask a security question, her voice a low purr:

“I’m thinking about that night in the cab. You’re wearing the boxers I like today, aren't you?”

Y/N had to maintain a stone-faced professional expression while her heart hammered against her ribs, watching Lizzie walk away with a triumphant sway in her hips.

---

Two months later

It was barely 1:00 PM, and the sun was beating down on the pavement outside, but inside the house on Sycamore, the curtains were drawn, and the air was thick with the sound of heavy breathing and the rhythmic creak of the sofa.

Y/N had a sixty-minute lunch window. She had spent ten of it driving and another five simply trying to get her boots and utility belt off as Lizzie practically pulled her through the front door.

Now, Y/N was sitting on the edge of the plush living room sofa, her uniform shirt unbuttoned and hanging open. Lizzie was straddling her, her knees tucked into the cushions on either side of Y/N’s hips. Lizzie’s head was tilted back, a long, shaky moan escaping her as Y/N’s hands gripped her waist, lifting and lowering her with a focused, relentless pace. "You're... you're going to be late," Lizzie panted, her fingers digging into Y/N’s shoulders, her nails scratching lightly against the skin.

"Then stop moving like that," Y/N rasped, her voice dropping into that low, authoritative register that always made Lizzie’s pulse spike.

Y/N leaned forward, burying her face in the crook of Lizzie’s neck, inhaling the scent of expensive perfume and the salt of her skin. She increased the tempo, her hips snapping upward to meet Lizzie’s downward slide. The friction was perfect, a wet, sliding heat that made the rest of the world—the precinct, the paperwork, the city—feel like a distant memory.

Lizzie’s hands shifted from Y/N’s shoulders to her face, cupping her cheeks and pulling her into a kiss that tasted of desperation. They were right on the edge, the tension in Lizzie’s thighs tightening as she prepared to shatter.

Then, the sharp, digital chirp of Y/N’s department radio cut through the air like a siren.

“Unit 24, come in. We’ve got a 10-16 at the station, Sergeant needs eyes on that evidence log immediately. Break your 10-7 and head back.”

Y/N froze, her forehead resting against Lizzie’s. She didn't pull out, but the rhythm stopped.

"Ignore it," Lizzie whispered against her lips, her hips giving a small, hopeful hitch.

“Unit 24, Y/F/N, you copy? I know you’re on lunch, but this is a priority.”

Y/N let out a long, frustrated groan that sounded more like a growl. She pulled back, looking at Lizzie—whose hair was a mess, lips swollen, and eyes wide with interrupted bliss.

"I have to go," Y/N said, the words tasting like lead.

"You're joking," Lizzie gasped, her hands still locked behind Y/N’s neck. "You are literally inside me, Officer. That has to be a higher priority than a logbook."

Y/N let out a rough chuckle, reaching up to gently detach Lizzie’s hands so she could lift her off. "If I don't answer, they'll send a supervisor to check my GPS. And as much as I like this house, I don't think we want the Sergeant seeing the 'disturbance' I'm currently handling."

Reluctantly, Y/N stood up, her body aching with the sudden lack of contact. She reached for her radio, keyed the mic, and kept her voice remarkably steady despite her racing heart.

"Unit 24. Copy that. Heading back now. Ten minutes out."

Lizzie stayed on the sofa, slumped back against the cushions, her shirt rumpled and her legs still draped over the edge. She watched with a mix of amusement and genuine frustration as Y/N hurriedly buttoned her shirt and tucked it back into her pants. "This is police brutality," Lizzie teased, though her voice was still thick with desire.

Y/N leaned over, pinning Lizzie’s wrists to the sofa for one last, searing kiss that promised a very long night later.

"Leave the door unlocked at 10:00 PM," Y/N murmured against her lips. "I’ll finish the report then."

---

The clock on the dashboard of the cruiser ticked over to 21:58 as Y/N pulled onto the station. 

She rushed inside to get her things. She didn’t even change. She only put on a jacket over the uniform and ignored everybody who tried to talk to her. In 10 minutes she was back at the Sycamore Street for the third time that week. This time, she wasn’t responding to a call; she was finishing what the department had so rudely interrupted.

She killed the engine and the lights. She through the jacket to the back seat before stepping out into the cool night air. True to her word, the front door was unlocked. The house was quiet, lit only by a few low lamps that cast long, amber shadows across the hallway.

Y/N didn't even make it to the stairs before she was intercepted. 

Lizzie appeared from the shadows of the living room, already moving toward her with a predatory grace. She was wearing a silk robe that looked like it would slide off with a single breath. The moment they collided, it was a mess of hands and teeth, the frustration of the afternoon boiling over into a frantic greeting.

"God, I've been thinking about this since one o'clock," Lizzie breathed against Y/N’s neck, her hands immediately going to Y/N’s uniform shirt.

Y/N groaned, her hands finding Lizzie’s waist and hoisting her up onto the heavy oak dining table. The wood groaned under the weight, but neither cared.

"You have no idea how hard it was to sit through a briefing after leaving you like that," Y/N rasped.

Lizzie’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of the shirt, her eyes roaming over the crisp lines of the dark fabric, the silver badge, and the way the sleeves hugged Y/N’s forearms. She paused for a heartbeat, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her lips.

"You know," Lizzie murmured, her voice dropping into that low, enchanting tone she used when she wanted something, "I know I teased you about the 'seriousness' of it all, but you look so incredibly good in this uniform. It makes me want to break every law just to see you come after me."

Y/N let out a rough laugh, her hands moving to her belt. "Is that so? Well, consider yourself under arrest."

They moved to shed the layers, but as Y/N’s hands reached for the heavy utility belt, she paused. The metallic clink of the equipment reminded her of the one thing that didn't belong in a moment this intimate.

She pulled back for a second, the heat between them momentarily suspended as she unholstered her sidearm. With a practiced, heavy thud, she placed the gun on the far end of the dining table, followed by her handcuffs and radio. The silence that followed was heavy, the sight of the weapon on the table serving as a stark reminder of the world Y/N had just stepped out of.

Lizzie stared at the equipment for a second, then looked back up at Y/N, her eyes darker than before. The transition from "Officer" to "Y/N" was complete.

"Now," Lizzie whispered, reaching out to grab Y/N’s tie and pulling her back into the space between her knees. "No more interruptions."

Y/N didn't need to be told twice. She stripped the uniform shirt off, the buttons straining before the fabric hit the floor, and she dove back into the heat of Lizzie’s kiss, finally delivering the "full report" she had promised.

---

Next Morning

The next morning felt strangely quiet.

Y/N had barely slept. After leaving Elizabeth Olsen’s house just after sunrise, she’d driven home with the windows down, the cool air doing little to calm the restless energy still humming through her body.

Now she stood in her apartment bathroom, toweling off after a quick shower. The hot water had helped clear her head—at least a little.

She pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a simple black shirt, running a hand through her still-damp hair before grabbing the things she always carried before a shift: keys, badge, gun. She checked the chamber automatically before holstering it, years of routine making the motion second nature.

Then she reached for her phone, but the counter was empty.

Y/N frowned.

She checked the kitchen table. Nothing. The couch. Still nothing.

Then it hit her.

“Damn it.”

Lizzie’s house.

She must have left it there sometime during the chaos of the night before. Y/N glanced at the clock. She still had time before reporting to the station. With a quiet sigh, she grabbed her jacket and headed back out to the car.

---

Sycamore Street looked peaceful in the morning light. Birds chirped somewhere in the trees as Y/N pulled up in front of the now very familiar house. She stepped out of the car and walked up the path to the front door. For a brief second she hesitated—then she knocked.

A few seconds passed. Footsteps approached. Then finally the door opened.

“Hey, Liz! Sorry I forgot my phone here last night and—” The words died in Y/N’s throat.

A man stood in the doorway.

Y/N froze immediately.

He looked just as surprised to see her. Tall. Well-dressed. Early thirties, maybe. The kind of guy who looked like he belonged in Hollywood circles.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then the man tilted his head slightly. “Uh… may I help you?”

Y/N straightened instinctively. “I was looking for Lizzie. Is she home?”

The man nodded casually. “She’s in the shower.”

Something in Y/N’s chest tightened slightly.

She kept her face neutral. “I left my phone here last night.”

“Oh.” The man glanced briefly over his shoulder into the house. “Alright. I’ll grab it.” He stepped back and closed the door.

Y/N stood there on the porch. Waiting.

The quiet morning suddenly felt heavier than it had a few minutes ago.

After a couple minutes, the door opened again. The man stood there holding her phone. He handed it to her. “Here you go.”

Y/N took it slowly. “Thanks.” 

The man gave a polite nod. “No problem.” Then—He closed the door. Right in her face.

Y/N stood there for a moment, staring at the door. Her jaw tightened slightly. Inside her chest, something unfamiliar twisted. Not anger. Not exactly. Something closer to confusion. Maybe even disappointment.

After a few seconds, she exhaled quietly and slipped the phone into her pocket, then turned and walked back to her car. As she drove away from Sycamore Street—for the first time since meeting Elizabeth Olsen—Y/N realized she had no idea what she actually was to her.

---

Later That Day

The precinct locker room smelled faintly of detergent, metal, and the lingering exhaustion of a long shift. Y/N shut her locker with a dull metallic clang and sat down on the bench in front of it, rubbing a hand over the back of her neck.

It had been a long day. Paperwork. Patrol. A minor traffic accident. Two noise complaints that had nothing to do with Sycamore Street. Which, strangely enough, had bothered her more than she expected.

She finished changing out of her uniform and into her normal clothes—dark jeans, boots, and a loose gray shirt. Her badge and gun rested on the bench beside her while she organized her things back into her bag.

Her phone buzzed. The vibration echoed slightly in the quiet locker room.

Y/N glanced down. The name on the screen made her chest tighten.

Lizzie.

She stared at it for a moment. Then she let out a quiet sigh and locked the screen without opening the message.

Across the bench, one of her coworkers—Marcus—noticed immediately. He leaned back against his locker with a grin. “Problem in paradise?”

Y/N slid the phone into her pocket. “Don’t start.”

Marcus raised both hands innocently. “I’m just asking.” He nodded toward her pocket. “That the actress again?”

Y/N grabbed her jacket. “Drop it.”

Marcus smirked. “Ah. So it is.”

Y/N shot him a look.

Marcus laughed. “Okay, okay. Relax.” He grabbed his own bag but couldn’t resist adding— “Still… if Elizabeth Olsen is texting you and you look that annoyed about it, something interesting definitely happened.”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. Instead she reached into her pocket and pulled the phone out again.

The screen lit up.

Lizzie: Is your shift over?

Y/N stared at the message for a moment. Earlier that day Lizzie had already texted her.

Can you come over tonight?

Y/N had replied shortly and simply.

Busy. Can’t.

At the time she hadn’t trusted herself to say anything else. Now the phone felt heavier in her hand.

Marcus noticed immediately. “Well?” he asked, leaning against the hallway wall as officers passed by them.

Y/N exhaled slowly through her nose. “She’s asking if my shift is over.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “That sounds pretty harmless.”

Y/N didn’t respond.

Marcus studied her face for a second. “Okay… what happened?”

“Nothing.”

Marcus crossed his arms. “That is definitely not a ‘nothing’ face.”

Y/N locked the phone and shoved it back into her pocket. “Drop it.”

Marcus tilted his head. “Did you two fight or something?”

“No.”

“Did she ghost you?”

“No.”

Marcus frowned slightly. “Then what?”

Y/N stopped walking. For a moment she looked like she might say something. Then she just shook her head. “Forget it.”

Marcus squinted at her. “You’re acting like someone kicked your puppy.”

Y/N scoffed quietly.

“Relax.” Marcus leaned closer. “Did you find out she’s seeing someone else?”

The words landed a little too close. Y/N’s jaw tightened for half a second.

Marcus noticed instantly.

“Oh.”

He straightened slightly.

“Oh.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You done?”

Marcus lifted both hands. “Hey, I’m just connecting dots.”

Y/N started walking toward the exit again.

Marcus followed. “So… what are you gonna do?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re not gonna ask her about it?”

“No.”

Marcus laughed. “You’re terrible at this.”

“At what?”

“Communication.” Y/N pushed open the precinct door and stepped outside into the evening air.

Marcus stepped out beside her. “So the plan is just… pretend it doesn’t bother you?”

Y/N leaned against the side of her car. “It doesn’t.”

Marcus stared at her. “Sure.”

Her phone buzzed again.

Marcus pointed at her pocket immediately. “There it is.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment. Then she pulled the phone out again. The screen lit up.

Lizzie: I wanted to see you tonight.

Marcus leaned slightly, trying to peek.

Y/N turned the screen away instantly.

Marcus groaned. “Rude.”

Y/N stared at the message. Something complicated twisted in her chest.

Marcus waited. “So?” he asked.

Y/N locked the phone again. “I told her I was busy.”

Marcus blinked. “You’re seriously not answering that?”

Y/N opened her car door.

Marcus leaned on the roof. “You realize ignoring people usually makes things worse, right?”

Y/N paused. For just a second. Then she slid into the driver’s seat.

Marcus knocked lightly on the window before she closed the door. “You like her,” he said through the glass.

Y/N didn’t answer.

Marcus grinned. “Oh you definitely like her.”

Y/N started the engine.

Marcus stepped back from the car. As she pulled out of the lot—Her phone buzzed again in the passenger seat.

As Y/N drove, the phone continued to buzz on the passenger seat. She kept her eyes on the road for a moment, jaw tight, fingers drumming once against the steering wheel before she finally glanced down at the screen during a red light.

Another message.

Lizzie: Did I do something?

Y/N stared at the words.

The light turned green. She drove another block before pulling into a quiet parking lot across from a closed café. The engine idled as the city moved around her.

Her phone buzzed again.

Lizzie: You’ve been acting weird since this morning.

Y/N stared at the message for a moment, her thumb hovering over the screen. For a second she considered just ignoring it again. But that would only make it worse. With a quiet sigh, she typed back.

Y/N: Just stuck at work.

The typing bubbles appeared almost immediately.

Lizzie: Your shift isn’t supposed to be this long.

Y/N leaned back in the driver’s seat, staring at the dashboard as the engine hummed quietly.

Y/N: Things came up.

Another pause. Then—

Lizzie: Are you sure that’s all it is?

Y/N rubbed her temple with one hand. She could almost hear Lizzie’s voice in her head saying it. Soft. Curious. A little suspicious.

Y/N: Yeah.

The reply came slower this time.

Lizzie: You’re a terrible liar.

Y/N huffed quietly under her breath. Her fingers hovered over the screen again. Before she could respond—Another message popped up.

Lizzie: Did something happen this morning?

Y/N’s jaw tightened slightly. For a moment she didn’t type anything. Instead she locked the screen and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. The car was silent except for the faint ticking of the engine. She stared through the windshield for a long moment. Then, the phone buzzed again beside her.

Y/N glanced at it but didn’t pick it up right away. She knew who it was. After a few seconds, she finally grabbed the phone and unlocked the screen. Another message from Lizzie.

Lizzie: Y/N… talk to me.

Y/N stared at the words, her jaw tightening slightly. For someone who spent most of her job questioning people, she suddenly had no idea what to say. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard.

Finally she typed.

Y/N: I told you. I’m at work.

The reply came almost instantly.

Lizzie: You’re not.

Y/N frowned slightly. Another message appeared.

Lizzie: Your friend told me your shift was over.

Y/N blinked.

Marcus.

It had to be Marcus. Her phone buzzed again.

Lizzie: You’re avoiding me.

Y/N leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes for a second. She typed slowly this time.

Y/N: Not avoiding you.

Three dots appeared again almost immediately.

Lizzie: Then come over.

Y/N opened her eyes and stared at the message. Outside the windshield, the evening traffic moved steadily down the street. Her fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel.

The phone buzzed again.

Lizzie: Please.

That word landed differently. Y/N stared at the screen for a long moment, the soft glow lighting up the inside of the car. Her jaw tightened slightly as she leaned back against the seat. She could ignore it. It would be easier.

Cleaner.

But the truth was… she already knew she wasn’t going to. Y/N let out a quiet sigh and dropped the phone onto the passenger seat.

“Damn it.”

She started the engine. The car pulled out of the parking lot and merged into the evening traffic, city lights flickering across the windshield as she drove.

The route to Sycamore Street was familiar now. Too familiar. Every stoplight felt longer than usual. Every slow driver in front of her made her grip the steering wheel a little tighter. Her mind kept replaying the morning. The door opening. The man standing there.

Y/N exhaled sharply through her nose and pushed the thought away.

Ten minutes later she turned down the quiet street. Lizzie’s house sat exactly the same as always—warm light glowing through the windows, the porch light casting a soft halo over the front steps.

Y/N parked at the curb and sat there for a second. Her phone buzzed again. She didn’t even need to check. Another sigh left her as she opened the car door and stepped out. The night air was cool against her skin as she walked up the familiar path. This time she knocked.

A few seconds passed. Footsteps approached from inside. The door opened and Lizzie stood there. Barefoot. Hair loose around her shoulders. Wearing an oversized sweater that looked suspiciously like one of Y/N’s.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

Lizzie studied her face carefully.

“You came.”

Y/N crossed her arms lightly.

“You said please.”

Lizzie’s lips twitched faintly at that. “Yeah.”

Another small silence stretched between them.

Then Lizzie stepped aside, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

Y/N hesitated for half a second before walking inside. The door closed quietly behind her.

Lizzie turned to face her again. “So…” she said gently. “You gonna tell me what’s actually going on?”

Y/N looked at her for a moment. Then she said flatly—“I came by this morning.”

Lizzie blinked. And then—realization hit her face all at once.

“I came to get my phone that I forgot…” Y/N continue. “…and you had a guy over.” Y/N looked at her for a long moment. Then she ran a hand through her hair and looked away toward the living room instead of Lizzie.

“I know I don’t really have a right to say anything,” she started, her voice lower than usual.

Lizzie stayed quiet.

Y/N continued, words coming slower now. “We never talked about it. About… whatever this is.” She gestured vaguely between them. “So you can see whoever you want. That’s not supposed to be my business.”

Lizzie’s expression softened slightly, but she still didn’t interrupt.

Y/N exhaled slowly. “And I know what this probably looks like from your side,” she went on. “We hook up. We have fun. That’s probably all it is.”

She let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’re probably thinking I’m stupid for catching feelings over something like that.”

Lizzie’s brows pulled together immediately. “Y/N—”

But Y/N kept talking, like if she stopped now she wouldn’t finish. “I walked up to your house this morning thinking…” she shook her head slightly. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Her jaw tightened a little.

“Then some guy opens the door and tells me you’re in the shower.”

A small silence filled the room.

Y/N finally looked back at Lizzie. “So yeah,” she said quietly. “That threw me off a little.”

Lizzie stared at her for a moment. Then she let out a breath. “First of all,” she said, stepping closer, “you’re not stupid.”

Y/N didn’t respond.

Lizzie folded her arms loosely. “And second… that guy was my publicist.”

Y/N blinked.

“My publicist,” Lizzie repeated. “He came over early because we had to go over press stuff for a project.”

Y/N studied her face, trying to read whether she was joking.

Lizzie gave a small, incredulous laugh. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“You got jealous.”

Y/N scoffed automatically. “I didn’t—”

“You absolutely did,” Lizzie said, though her tone wasn’t mocking. If anything, it sounded… a little pleased.

Y/N rubbed the back of her neck again. “That’s not the point.”

Lizzie tilted her head slightly.

“Then what is?”

Y/N hesitated. “The point is… I didn’t expect it to bother me.”

Lizzie watched her carefully.

“And now?”

Y/N met her eyes again. “…Now I know it does.”

For a second the room was completely quiet. Then Lizzie took another step closer. Close enough that Y/N could see the faint smile tugging at her lips. 

“Well,” Lizzie said softly. “That’s interesting.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “How is that interesting?”

Lizzie shrugged slightly. “Because I thought I was the only one catching feelings.”

Y/N frowned slightly. “You?”

Lizzie gave a small, almost shy shrug. “Yeah. Me.”

Y/N looked genuinely confused now.

Lizzie leaned back against the edge of the table behind her, crossing her arms loosely as she watched Y/N process that. “You think I’ve been inviting you over every chance I get just because the sex is good?” Lizzie asked.

Y/N opened her mouth—then closed it again.

Lizzie laughed softly. “Okay, don’t answer that.”

Y/N rubbed the back of her neck again, suddenly looking less like the confident officer and more like someone who’d just realized she’d misread the entire situation. “I just assumed…” she muttered.

“That I do this with everyone?” Lizzie finished.

Y/N immediately shook her head. “No… of course not,” she said quickly. She looked down for a second, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. “I just… I just…” she exhaled softly. “I don’t know.”

Lizzie waited.

Y/N rubbed the back of her neck again, clearly uncomfortable now. “You’re famous,” she said finally. “You can date anyone you want.” She gestured vaguely toward Lizzie. “Actors. Models. Directors. Whoever.”

A small, awkward shrug followed. “I didn’t think you’d actually be interested in someone like me.”

Lizzie blinked at her. “Someone like you?”

Y/N nodded once. “Yeah.”

Lizzie stared at her for a moment like she was trying to process what she’d just heard. Then she pushed herself off the table and stepped closer again. “Okay,” she said slowly. “We need to unpack that sentence.”

Y/N frowned slightly. “What sentence?”

“The one where you somehow decided you’re not interesting enough for me.”

Y/N scoffed quietly. “I didn’t say that.”

Lizzie pointed a finger at her. “You absolutely implied it.”

Y/N opened her mouth—then stopped.

Lizzie folded her arms. “Let me get this straight,” she said. “You’re a almost six-foot tall, police officer who literally walked into my house during a noise complaint and somehow managed to flirt with me while telling me to behave.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “I did not—”

“You did,” Lizzie cut in. A small smile crept onto her face. “And then you showed up at a convention looking like you stepped out of some ‘hot cop’ fantasy and acted like you weren’t aware of it.”

Y/N looked mildly offended now.

“I was working.”

Lizzie ignored that.

“And then,” she continued, stepping even closer, “you danced with me at a club and had me leaving with you in a cab ten minutes later.”

Y/N coughed lightly.

Lizzie tilted her head. “And somehow you think I wouldn’t be interested in you?”

Y/N shifted her weight slightly. “When you say it like that…”

Lizzie leaned forward just enough that their faces were close again.

“I’m saying it exactly like that.”

Y/N studied her for a moment. Then she muttered quietly, “…You could still do better.”

Lizzie’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Oh really?”

Y/N shrugged.

Lizzie reached up and grabbed the front of Y/N’s shirt again, pulling her closer until they were almost chest to chest. “Listen carefully, Officer Y/F/N,” she said softly.

“I’m the one who gets to decide who I want.”

Y/N held her gaze.

“And right now,” Lizzie continued, “that person is you.” A small silence settled between them.

Then Lizzie smirked slightly. “Also… for the record?”

Y/N raised a brow.

“You’re ridiculously attractive.”

Y/N let out a quiet huff of amusement to hide her smile.

“Good to know.”

Lizzie smiled. “Very.”

Y/N shifted slightly, clearly gathering the courage to say something. Her hand rubbed the back of her neck again—a habit Lizzie was starting to recognize whenever she was nervous.

“So…” Y/N began.

Lizzie watched her with quiet curiosity.

“If I asked you on a real date…” Y/N said slowly. “Wi—”

She didn’t get to finish.

Lizzie reached up, pulling Y/N down into a kiss.

The words disappeared against Lizzie’s lips. For a second Y/N froze in surprise, then immediately kissed her back.

Lizzie pulled away just barely—close enough that their noses brushed—her lips still hovering against Y/N’s.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Y/N blinked.

“You didn’t even let me finish the question.”

Lizzie smiled, still holding onto her shirt. “You were going to ask me on a real date.”

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“That confident, huh?”

Lizzie nodded once.

“Very.”

Y/N chuckled softly under her breath. “Alright then.”

Lizzie tilted her head. “Alright what?”

Y/N slipped one arm around Lizzie’s waist, pulling her a little closer.

“Friday night,” she said. “Dinner.”

Lizzie pretended to think about it. “Hmm.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes slightly.

“Don’t start.”

Lizzie grinned. “I’m a very busy actress, Officer.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I might need convincing.”

Y/N leaned down slightly, her voice lowering just enough to make Lizzie shiver. “Dinner,” she repeated. “No disturbances.”

Lizzie smirked. “That sounds suspiciously boring.”

Y/N shrugged. “You asked for a real date.”

Lizzie looked at her for a moment. Then she leaned in again and kissed her—slower this time. 

When she pulled back, she smiled. “Friday night,” she agreed. “But I’m picking the place.”

Y/N nodded. “Deal.”

Lizzie studied her face for a moment before teasing. “You know,” she said softly, stepping closer again, “for someone who acts so confident on the street… you’re surprisingly shy when it comes to this.”

Y/N scoffed lightly. “I’m not shy.”

Lizzie raised a brow. “Really?”

Before Y/N could answer, Lizzie grabbed her hand and started pulling her toward the hallway. “Hey—” Y/N laughed quietly, letting herself be dragged along. “Where are we going?”

Lizzie glanced back over her shoulder, her smile mischievous. “Well,” she said, “you did just come straight from work.”

Y/N frowned slightly.

“And?”

“And you probably smell like the inside of a patrol car.”

Y/N looked offended. “I do not.”

Lizzie laughed. “Relax, Officer.” She tugged Y/N a little farther down the hall toward the stairs. “Why don’t you take a shower,” Lizzie said, her tone softer now. “And then come to bed.”

Y/N stopped halfway up the stairs, raising an eyebrow at her. “That sounds suspiciously like you’re trying to skip the whole ‘date’ thing.”

Lizzie stepped up one stair so they were nearly face to face. Her fingers slid into the front of Y/N’s shirt again. “Friday is the date,” she said quietly. Then she leaned up, brushing a quick kiss against Y/N’s lips. “Tonight,” she added with a small smile, “you’re just staying over.”

Y/N studied her for a second. Then a small smirk tugged at her mouth. “Bossy.”

Lizzie shrugged. “Confident.”

Y/N shook her head slightly but let Lizzie pull her the rest of the way upstairs.

At the top of the stairs, Lizzie pointed toward the bathroom. “Shower,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am” Y/N smile.

---

A little while later, the bathroom door opened. Steam drifted softly into the hallway as Y/N stepped out, drying her hair with a towel. She had changed into the only clean things she could find in her bag—just a pair of dark boxers and a black sports bra. Comfortable. Casual.

Very much not trying to impress anyone.

“Hey, Liz,” Y/N called as she walked toward the bedroom. “Do you know where the shirt I left the other night is? The gray one?”

She stepped into the room. And stopped.

Lizzie was sitting on the bed, legs folded under her, flipping lazily through a script. But she wasn’t wearing her sweater anymore. Instead—she was wearing Y/N’s gray shirt.

The one Y/N had just asked about.

The sleeves hung a little long on her arms, the fabric loose and soft against her frame, clearly much bigger on her than it had been on Y/N.

Lizzie looked up slowly. A small, guilty smile tugged at her lips. “Oh,” she said casually. “This one?”

Y/N stared at her for a second. “…You stole my shirt.”

Lizzie glanced down at herself as if noticing it for the first time. “Huh,” she said thoughtfully. “I guess I did.”

Y/N crossed her arms, trying very hard not to smile. “You were supposed to give that back.”

Lizzie shrugged lightly, completely unapologetic. “It’s comfortable.”

“It’s mine.”

Lizzie tilted her head. “You weren’t using it.”

Y/N shook her head, walking a little closer. “That’s not the point.”

Lizzie closed the script and set it aside, watching Y/N approach. “You want it back?”

Y/N stopped at the edge of the bed.

“Yes.”

Lizzie hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm.” She leaned back slightly on her hands. “But I kind of like it.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You’re unbelievable.”

Lizzie grinned. “Or,” she said slowly, “you could just come to bed and remove it from me.”

Y/N tried to maintain a serious expression. It lasted about two seconds. Then she huffed out a quiet laugh. “You’re impossible.”

Lizzie patted the mattress beside her. “Come here.”

Y/N climbed onto the bed beside her, shaking her head. As she settled in, Lizzie leaned slightly against her shoulder, the oversized shirt shifting softly with the movement. Y/N glanced down at it. “…You’re definitely keeping that, aren’t you?”

Lizzie smiled sleepily. “Probably.”

Y/N sighed dramatically. “I’m never getting that shirt back.”

Lizzie looked up at her. “Nope.”

Then she added, softer this time—“It’s mine now, just like it’s owner.”

---

Leave your comments!

[ilovemarvel97]

Marked By You - Chapter 8

Warmth in the Cold

Wanda Maximoff x G!P Wolf Reader

Summary: Wanda and Y/N start to search for Nat and the others. 

Words: 8,484

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, mention of smut,  Soulmate AU

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

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A Week Later

Y/N’s POV

Budapest was busy—too busy. 

Crowded streets, overlapping scents, too many voices blending into one another. It made tracking harder—not impossible, just less precise. Everything needed more time, more focus. And for once, they weren’t rushing.

Y/N sat at a small café table near the edge of the street, back to the wall out of habit, but her posture wasn’t as rigid as before. One arm rested loosely along the back of her chair, the other around a glass she hadn’t really touched. Across from her, Wanda stirred her drink slowly, the spoon clinking softly against the cup. They’d been there a while—long enough for the noise of the city to fade into something almost normal.

“It’s strange,” Wanda murmured, watching people pass by. “How everything just keeps going.”

Y/N followed her gaze—couples walking, someone laughing too loud, a kid chasing pigeons across the square. “…Yeah,” she said quietly.

A pause settled between them, but not heavy this time—just quiet. Wanda took a small sip of her drink, then glanced up at Y/N. “Anything?” she asked.

Y/N shook her head, but there was no tension in it. “Not really. Too many people. Too much overlap.” She leaned back slightly. “If Nat’s been here, it wasn’t recent.”

Wanda nodded, accepting it easier than before. They’d had a week to adjust to that answer. Her fingers tapped lightly against the side of her cup. “We’ve been here longer than we planned,” she said.

“Yeah.”

Neither of them sounded urgent about it. Y/N glanced toward the street again, more out of habit than necessity, then looked back at Wanda. “We should probably move soon,” she added. “Just to be safe.”

Wanda hummed softly but didn’t argue. “Tonight?” she asked.

“Tonight’s good.”

Another pause, then Wanda’s lips curved faintly. “…At least the coffee’s better here.”

Y/N huffed softly, a small smile pulling at her mouth. “Yeah. That’s true.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something. For a moment, they just sat there—no immediate danger, no running, no gunfire. Just two people in a café, blending into the world like they were supposed to. Y/N watched Wanda for a second longer than necessary—relaxed, a little tired, but here, with her.

“…We’ll find them,” Y/N said quietly.

Wanda looked up, meeting her eyes. This time, she didn’t hesitate. “I know.”

Her shoulders eased slightly as she said it. And for now, that was enough.

---

Wanda’s POV

They left the café without rushing. The sky had already begun to dim, the last of the daylight slipping behind the buildings as the city shifted into evening, streetlights flickering on one by one and casting warm pools of light along the sidewalks. Budapest felt different at night—quieter in some places, louder in others. They walked side by side, blending into the steady flow of people heading home, out to dinner, or nowhere in particular.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. Y/N’s attention moved between the street, the people, the sounds—but not as sharp as before, not on edge, just aware. Then a small movement beside her—Wanda’s shoulders pulling in slightly, a faint shiver—and Y/N noticed immediately. She glanced at her. “You cold?”

Wanda shook her head automatically. “I’m fine.”

Y/N didn’t argue, just reached up and started shrugging off her jacket. Wanda caught the movement and frowned. “No.”

Y/N paused. “You’re shivering.”

“And you’re not wearing anything under that except a shirt,” Wanda pointed out. “If you start walking around without your jacket, people are going to notice.”

Y/N blinked once, considered it… fair. She nodded slowly. “Okay.” But she didn’t look convinced.

They walked a few more steps before Y/N slowed slightly and held out her hand. Wanda glanced down at it, confused for a second. “…What?”

Y/N tilted her head just a little. “Here.”

Wanda looked at her hand, then at her, then back again. A small smile tugged at her lips before she reached out and took it. Y/N’s fingers closed around hers immediately—warm, firm, grounding—and then she shifted their hands together, slipping them both into the pocket of her jacket.

Wanda stilled.

Because now their fingers weren’t just touching—they were intertwined, fully pressed together inside the warmth of the pocket, hidden from view, insulated from the cold. Y/N didn’t react, didn’t seem to realize what she’d just done. She just kept walking like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“…Better?” she asked, glancing down briefly.

Wanda’s face had gone warm—very warm. “…Yeah,” she said softly.

Y/N nodded once, satisfied, and that was it. No hesitation, no second thought, just continued forward. Wanda, meanwhile, was very aware of everything—the way their fingers fit together, the warmth, the steady, absent-minded way Y/N’s thumb shifted slightly against her hand. Her heart picked up just a little, and she turned her gaze forward quickly, hoping the dim streetlights hid the color rising in her cheeks.

They kept walking, hands still tucked safely inside Y/N’s jacket pocket, moving in quiet sync through the evening crowd. The air had grown cooler, but the city felt warmer somehow—lights strung between buildings, voices rising and falling, the distant sound of music drifting through the streets.

At some point, the street opened up—and with it, a night market. Rows of stalls lined both sides, glowing under hanging bulbs. The smell hit first—grilled meat, spices, something sweet frying in oil. Voices overlapped in different languages, vendors calling out, laughter spilling into the open air. Y/N slowed slightly, and then—her stomach growled. Loud.

Wanda blinked, then laughed—not a quiet laugh, but a bright one that slipped out before she could stop it, cutting clean through the lingering tension from earlier. Y/N stiffened beside her. “…Don’t,” she muttered, a faint flush already creeping up her neck.

Wanda turned to her, still smiling. “Didn’t you just eat three slices of cake?”

Y/N looked away immediately. “That was… earlier.”

“That was twenty minutes ago,” Wanda said, amused.

Y/N’s blush deepened. “I burn energy faster,” she defended, a little quieter now.

Wanda’s smile softened instantly—adorable. Without really thinking about it, she lifted her free hand and reached up, fingers brushing gently through Y/N’s hair, soft and lingering for just a second longer than necessary. Y/N froze completely. Wanda noticed—and didn’t pull away right away.

“…Come on,” she said softly instead, giving her hair one last light stroke before lowering her hand. Then she tugged her forward, still holding her other hand in the pocket. “Let’s get food.”

Y/N blinked, still slightly stunned, but followed without resistance as Wanda led her toward the stalls. “Anything specific?” Wanda asked, glancing back at her.

Y/N shook her head. “Anything.”

A small huff of amusement. “Figures.”

They stepped into the market together, lights brighter here, warmth wrapping around them from every direction. The first stall they stopped at was already crowded—skewers sizzling over open flame, fat dripping and hissing as it hit the coals. The smell alone was enough to make Y/N’s stomach growl again. Wanda raised an eyebrow. Y/N pretended not to notice.

“Two,” Wanda said to the vendor, pointing.

Y/N leaned slightly closer, eyes tracking the movement of the grill. “Four.”

Wanda glanced at her. Y/N didn’t look away. “…Four.”

Wanda smiled faintly. “Four.”

They stepped aside to wait, the heat from the grill fading quickly once they moved out of the stall’s glow, the cold creeping back in almost immediately. Wanda’s shoulders tensed—just slightly. Y/N noticed. Of course she did. Without saying anything, she shifted closer, then closer still, until there was no space left between them. One arm came around Wanda’s shoulders, pulling her in against her chest—natural, easy, like it wasn’t even a question.

Wanda blinked, caught off guard for half a second as warmth wrapped around her again, stronger this time. “Y/N—”

“You’re cold,” Y/N said simply.

Wanda hesitated, then relaxed into it. “…A little.”

Y/N hummed softly, her grip adjusting just enough to be more comfortable, her chin almost brushing the top of Wanda’s head. They stayed like that while they waited—close, warm, the noise of the market fading just a little around them.

When the food was ready, Wanda stepped forward to grab it, but Y/N didn’t let go completely. Her arm lingered loosely around Wanda’s shoulders as they moved aside again. The first bite barely lasted a second. Y/N ate fast—not messy, but efficient, like she was fueling more than just hunger.

Wanda laughed under her breath as she took a slower bite of her own. “You’re not even tasting it.”

“I am.”

“You inhaled that.”

“I tasted it fast.”

Wanda shook her head, smiling.

They didn’t stop there. Next stall—something fried, crisp and golden, dusted with sugar. Y/N took a bite and paused for half a second. “…This is good.”

Wanda grinned. “High praise.”

Then something savory wrapped in thin bread, then dumplings, then something sweet again that Wanda insisted on trying—only for Y/N to end up finishing most of it anyway.

“Hey—that was mine,” Wanda protested lightly as Y/N took the last piece.

“You weren’t eating it.”

“I was going to.”

“You hesitated.”

Wanda stared at her. “…You’re unbelievable.”

Y/N shrugged, completely unbothered. “You can get another one.”

Wanda huffed—but she was smiling again.

At some point, their hands slipped back together naturally, no hesitation this time, fingers finding each other like it had already become habit. They walked slower now, weaving through the stalls, sharing bites here and there—well, Wanda sharing, Y/N mostly eating. But it didn’t feel one-sided. It felt easy, comfortable, normal.

Y/N slowed near another stall, watching as something was prepared, her attention fully caught again. Wanda glanced up at her—at the way her eyes tracked everything, at the faint flush still lingering from earlier, at how relaxed she looked now.

“…You’re happy,” Wanda said quietly.

Y/N blinked, like she hadn’t realized it. “…Yeah,” she admitted after a second.

Wanda smiled.

They stood there together, waiting for yet another order, Y/N’s arm slipping back—this time around her waist without thought. It was different, closer, and Wanda felt it immediately. Her breath hitched just slightly as Y/N’s hand settled at her side, thumb resting against the fabric of her jacket, steady and warm. There was no hesitation in the touch, no question—just instinct.

Wanda didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned into it, subtle but enough that the space between them disappeared completely.

The vendor called out something in Hungarian, and Y/N’s attention shifted forward again, focused on the food. Wanda watched her instead—the way her jaw moved slightly as she waited, the way her eyes tracked every motion behind the stall, the way her hand stayed right where it was on Wanda’s waist.

Like it belonged there.

Wanda swallowed softly. She didn’t say anything, didn’t point it out. Instead, she watched her.

Y/N’s attention had already drifted back to the stalls, eyes moving from one display to another, tracking everything with quiet focus. Every now and then, her gaze would linger just a second longer on something specific. And then—a small, unconscious movement. She licked her lips.

Wanda’s breath caught.

It was subtle, barely noticeable, but once she saw it, she couldn’t *unsee* it. Y/N did it again a moment later, eyes fixed on another stall further down, clearly already planning what she wanted next.

Wanda felt warmth creep up her neck. God.

She forced her gaze away—then back again without meaning to.

The vendor called out, pulling Y/N’s attention forward. Her hand slipped away from Wanda’s waist as she stepped up to grab the food. And just like that, the warmth disappeared.

Wanda felt it immediately—the absence, her body registering it before her mind could catch up. For a split second, she missed it. Actually missed it. The realization made her blink, a flicker of something like disappointment settling in her chest.

But before it could linger, Y/N turned back, already splitting the food in half. “Here,” she said, handing a portion to Wanda without hesitation, like it was automatic—like sharing with her was just part of the process.

Wanda smiled instantly—soft, real. The feeling from before easing just a little as she took it, their fingers brushing briefly. “Thank you,” she said.

Y/N nodded once, already taking a bite of her own, attention shifting back to the taste, to the moment, to everything around them.

Wanda watched her for a second longer, then took a bite herself—and stayed close.

She smiled even more when, the second Y/N finished her portion, she stepped right back in—closing the space again without hesitation. Her arm slipped around Wanda’s waist like it had never left, warm and steady, pulling her gently back against her front as if it was the most natural place to be while she waited.

And then she just… watched.

Not subtly, not even a little. Her eyes tracked every movement of Wanda’s hand as she ate, attention locked onto the food like she was already calculating her next bite. Wanda tried to keep a straight face—she really did—but the longer it went on, the harder it became.

“You’re staring,” she said, amused.

Y/N didn’t even deny it. “You’re eating slow.”

Wanda huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe because someone already ate everything else.”

“I didn’t eat everything.”

“You ate most of it.”

Y/N shrugged slightly behind her, completely unapologetic.

Wanda took another bite, but her attention drifted for a moment—because they were close, very close. Y/N’s body pressed lightly against her back, her arm firm around her waist, holding her in place without force. Anyone passing by would’ve seen it instantly—a couple. The thought slipped in without warning.

Wanda didn’t pull away, didn’t even realize how much she’d leaned into her until her shoulder brushed Y/N’s chest again. She laughed softly under her breath and lifted the food slightly. “Do you want some?”

Y/N shook her head. “It’s yours.”

“It’s fine,” Wanda said easily. “I’m not that hungry. And you’re going to keep eating anyway.”

A small pause, then Y/N nodded. “Okay.”

Wanda held the piece up—and Y/N didn’t take it. Didn’t reach for it. Instead, she leaned down, close—too close—and took a bite directly from Wanda’s hand.

Wanda froze.

Her breath caught as she felt it—the warmth, the proximity, the way Y/N’s focus didn’t waver even for a second as she pulled back, chewing like nothing had happened, like that was normal. Wanda’s heart kicked hard against her ribs, heat rushing up her neck and across her cheeks.

“…Y/N,” she murmured, a little breathless.

Y/N glanced at her. “What?”

Wanda blinked. She had no idea what she was going to say. “…Nothing.”

Y/N nodded, accepting it immediately, already leaning in again slightly as if considering another bite. Wanda swallowed, her hand still raised, still holding the food, and suddenly she was very aware of it—of everything. The closeness, the way Y/N’s arm was still around her waist, the way her body hadn’t moved away.

Her heart didn’t slow down.

But she didn’t stop her either.

Instead, she lifted the food again just a little—and let Y/N take another bite.

Wanda held the food there for a second longer than necessary, watching Y/N take another bite like it was the most normal thing in the world—and maybe for her, it was. Y/N chewed, swallowed, then leaned back just enough to give Wanda space again, but her arm never left Wanda’s waist. Still there. Still warm. Still grounding.

Wanda lowered her hand slowly, her fingers feeling a little unsteady.

What is wrong with me?

Her heart was still racing—too fast, too loud for something this simple. She forced herself to take another bite, but she barely tasted it this time, her thoughts already turning inward, spiraling in a way she didn’t like. Why was she reacting like this? It was just Y/N—the same Y/N who had been beside her for weeks, who had carried her through forests, kept her warm, made sure she ate, stayed close without ever asking for anything in return.

So why did her chest feel tight? Why did her stomach flip every time Y/N got closer? Why did something as simple as being held—being looked at like that—make her feel like she couldn’t breathe properly?

Wanda swallowed, her grip on the food tightening slightly.

Then the thought came, quiet but impossible to ignore.

Am I catching feelings?

Her breath hitched.

No. That didn’t make sense. It couldn’t. She had just gotten out of a relationship. Everything was messy. They were on the run. Of course things would feel intense. Of course she’d cling to the one person she had right now.

That had to be it.

Right?

Her eyes flicked sideways. Y/N was still there—close, steady, watching her again with that same quiet attentiveness. Not intrusive, not demanding—just present.

Wanda’s heart skipped again.

She looked away quickly, heat rising to her face.

Why did she like this so much?

That was the worst part—not the confusion, not the racing thoughts. It was the fact that she didn’t want Y/N to move, didn’t want her arm to leave, didn’t want that warmth to disappear again.

Wanda exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself, but her body betrayed her—leaning just a fraction more into Y/N without thinking, seeking it.

God.

Her lips pressed together as she stared down at what was left of the food in her hand.

This wasn’t good. This was complicated.

And yet—

She didn’t pull away, didn’t step out of Y/N’s hold, didn’t stop herself from offering another bite a moment later.

Because whatever this was—confusing, unwanted, too much—

It also felt right.

---

Y/N’s POV

The rest of the night blurred into movement and light. They drifted from one stall to another, the rhythm easy now—stop, look, eat, move again. Some places had sizzling grills, others rows of sweets stacked in neat displays, and further down, small tents selling handmade things—bracelets, scarves, little trinkets that caught Wanda’s attention more than the food sometimes.

Y/N followed wherever Wanda went. She didn’t even question it. If Wanda slowed, she slowed. If Wanda stopped, she stopped. If Wanda lingered at something, Y/N stayed beside her, one arm still loosely around her waist more often than not. It felt right. Simple.

Wanda laughed more tonight—that was the first thing Y/N noticed. Not the food, though it was good. Not the lights, not the noise, not even the fact that they were standing in the open without immediately scanning every shadow. It was Wanda. The way her shoulders weren’t as tense, the way her eyes lit up when she saw something new, the way her voice softened when she pointed things out—small details most people would’ve ignored.

Y/N liked that. A lot.

She didn’t say it, but she stayed close.

At one of the stalls, Wanda paused in front of a display of small handmade charms, picking one up to examine it. Y/N watched her instead of the items, her gaze softer than usual. “You like it?” she asked.

Wanda glanced back at her, then down at the charm again. “It’s cute.”

“Get it.”

Wanda shook her head lightly. “We don’t need extra things.”

Y/N didn’t argue, but a few seconds later she stepped forward anyway, quietly paying for it while Wanda was distracted by something else on the table. 

They kept walking after that, stopping for more food because Y/N kept finding things she “hadn’t tried yet.” Wanda teased her about it but didn’t stop her. If anything, she encouraged it, occasionally stealing small bites just to prove she could.

At some point, Wanda leaned into her again without thinking. Y/N noticed—of course she did—and her arm tightened slightly around Wanda’s waist in response.

They didn’t talk about it.

Didn’t need to. The night stretched on like that—easy, warm, almost normal.

On the way back to the Airbnb, the noise of the market slowly faded behind them, replaced by quieter streets and softer light. The air had grown colder again, but neither of them seemed to mind. Their hands found each other somewhere along the way—no hesitation, no second guessing, just fingers slipping together naturally like it had already become something familiar.

They talked lightly this time, nothing about Hydra or plans—just small things. The food. Wanda teasing Y/N for how much she ate. Y/N defending herself with quiet seriousness.

“I still think you could’ve eaten more,” Y/N said.

Wanda laughed softly. “I had plenty.”

“You had half of what I had.”

“That’s because you ate like five people.”

“Four,” Y/N corrected.

Wanda shook her head, smiling, their hands tightening slightly around each other as they walked. Neither of them acknowledged it—but neither let go either.

By the time they reached the Airbnb, the city had quieted. The hallway was dim, and the silence settled around them as soon as the door closed. Inside, it was warm and still.

Wanda slipped off her shoes, stretching slightly as she stepped further in. Y/N lingered by the door for a moment, watching her, then reached into her pocket.

“Wanda.”

She turned. “Yeah?”

Y/N walked toward her, something small in her hand. “I got you something.”

Wanda blinked, surprised. “You didn’t have to—”

Y/N opened her hand.

A necklace. Simple. Dark chain. And at the center—a small black wolf pendant.

Wanda stilled. She recognized it instantly—the stall, the moment she had paused, the way she had picked it up just for a second because it reminded her of Y/N.

Her eyes lifted slowly. “…You saw that?”

Y/N shrugged lightly. “You looked at it.”

Wanda’s chest tightened. She stepped closer, fingers brushing over the pendant, tracing its shape. It did look like her—strong, quiet, a little dangerous, and somehow comforting.

“It’s… really beautiful,” Wanda said softly.

Y/N’s gaze softened just a fraction. “Yeah. I thought so too.”

A small silence settled between them before Wanda looked back up, something gentler in her expression. “…Will you help me put it on?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah.”

Wanda turned, lifting her hair slightly. Y/N stepped closer, her fingers careful as she fastened the clasp behind Wanda’s neck, lingering there for just a second longer than necessary.

Wanda felt it. Her breath slowed.

Y/N’s hands dropped. “…Done.”

Wanda turned back, fingers immediately finding the pendant again. She smiled—soft, real. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Y/N nodded, but didn’t step back. Didn’t create distance.

They just stood there, close.

And the necklace rested right over Wanda’s heart.

Wanda turned slightly, her fingers still resting on the pendant.

Y/N’s hand lifted without thinking, brushing gently against it where it lay against Wanda’s chest. Her fingertips traced the small black wolf, adjusting it so it sat properly, centered. Wanda’s breath caught. She looked up.

Too close.

Y/N was right there—closer than before, her hand still lightly holding the pendant, her gaze dropping for just a second before lifting to meet Wanda’s.

And then they froze.

No movement. No sound. Just the quiet hum of the room and the space between them suddenly feeling too small. Wanda could feel it again—that pull, that tight warmth in her chest, the way her heart started racing for no reason she could explain.

Y/N didn’t move either. Their eyes locked.

And for a second, neither of them looked away.

Wanda’s breath slowed, then faltered.

This is—too much. Too close. Too—

She snapped out of it, abruptly turning away so fast it almost felt like she broke something fragile between them.

“I—I’m going to shower,” she said quickly, her voice just slightly off. “And… get ready for bed.”

She didn’t wait for a response, didn’t look back—just moved, fast, grabbing her things and heading straight for the bathroom. The door shut with a soft click.

Silence filled the room again.

Y/N stood there for a second longer, her hand still half-raised where the pendant had been. Her fingers curled slowly—confused. Then she lowered her hand, her gaze lingering on the closed bathroom door.

“…Okay,” she murmured quietly.

Y/N stayed where she was for a moment, eyes still on the closed bathroom door. Then slowly, a small smile formed.

Wanda was wearing it.

The way the pendant had looked against her skin, the way Wanda had touched it like it meant something. Like she meant something.

Y/N exhaled softly, then turned and walked over to the bed before dropping onto it—not properly, just flopping across it sideways, one arm hanging off the edge, legs still half bent. Relaxed, for once. She stared up at the ceiling, the faint hum of the room settling around her.

And she smiled. A real one, unfiltered.

Because Wanda had liked it. Because Wanda had stayed close. Because Wanda hadn’t pulled away. Her chest felt warm, full, and her thoughts drifted—inevitably—back to the same place they always did when it came to Wanda.

My Imprint.

The word settled in her mind, certain, unchangeable.

Wanda was hers.

Not in a possessive way, not something forced or taken—just meant. Like gravity. Like instinct. Like breathing.

Y/N lifted her hand slightly, staring at it like she could still feel the warmth of Wanda’s skin from earlier, the way her fingers had fit between hers so easily, the way she had leaned into her, the way she hadn’t moved away.

Her smile softened.

Maybe… maybe she could tell her.

The thought came carefully this time—not rushed, not overwhelming. Just there.

Wanda deserved to know. She deserved to understand why Y/N stayed close, why she noticed everything, why it felt impossible to let her out of her sight for too long—why being near her felt like home.

Y/N exhaled slowly, one arm coming up to rest behind her head. “…Maybe,” she murmured to herself.

Not yet. Not like this.

But soon.

She turned her head slightly, eyes flicking toward the bathroom door again—waiting, patient, and still smiling.

---

Wanda’s POV

The shower didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse.

Wanda stood under the water longer than she needed to, letting it run over her shoulders, her face, trying to quiet the storm in her chest—but her thoughts kept circling back. To the pendant. To Y/N’s hand. To how close they had been. To how, for a split second, she had almost leaned in—almost closed the distance.

Almost—

Wanda exhaled sharply, pressing her palm briefly against the cool tile. “…God.”

She couldn’t pretend anymore. This wasn’t just stress, not just proximity, not just survival instincts clinging to the only person she had. This was feelings—real ones. And that realization sat heavy in her chest as she turned off the water, dried off quickly, and got dressed.

By the time she stepped out of the bathroom, her hair still slightly damp, her expression softened—but the tension hadn’t completely left. She was going to say something. She had to. At least… something.

“Y/N, it’s your—”

She stopped.

Y/N was already on the bed, half on it, half off, like she had just dropped there and never bothered to move properly. One arm hung loosely off the side, her breathing slow and even.

Asleep. Completely.

Wanda blinked, then let out a quiet, breathy chuckle. “…Of course.”

The tension in her shoulders eased almost instantly. She stepped closer, slower this time, and sat down gently beside Y/N’s head. For a moment, she just watched her—the way her face softened in sleep, the way all that constant alertness finally disappeared, the faint rise and fall of her chest, steady, calm.

Peaceful.

Wanda’s expression softened.

Her hand lifted without thinking, fingers threading gently into Y/N’s hair, brushing through it slowly—familiar, comforting. The same way she used to when Y/N was in her wolf form, when she’d sit beside the bed and Wanda would reach down to run her fingers through soft fur.

Y/N leaned into the touch, even in her sleep.

Wanda’s breath caught. “…What are you doing to me, little wolf?” she whispered.

Y/N shifted slightly, leaning more into her hand, chasing the contact instinctively. Wanda’s heart stuttered, then picked up faster. Her hand stilled for a second, then moved again, slower this time. Her fingers drifted lower, brushing along Y/N’s temple, then her cheek.

Soft. Warm.

Her thumb hovered, then traced lightly over Y/N’s lips.

Wanda froze, her breath hitching.

She should stop. She knew she should stop.

But she didn’t.

Her eyes dropped to Y/N’s mouth, her thumb still resting there, and something in her chest tightened, pulling her forward before she could think it through. Before she could stop herself, she leaned down and pressed a soft, quick kiss to the corner of Y/N’s mouth.

The moment it happened, Wanda jolted back like she’d been burned. Her hand snapped away, her heart slamming violently against her ribs.

“Oh my—”

Her eyes widened, panic flooding in instantly as she stared at Y/N, still asleep, still unmoving.

“I—”

She pressed her hand to her mouth, her breath coming faster.

“What did I just do?”

Wanda’s heart wouldn’t slow down.

It felt like it was trying to break out of her chest, loud and frantic, every beat echoing in her ears. She stared at Y/N—still asleep, still completely unaware—and somehow that made it worse. How was she just… sleeping? After that? After Wanda had just—

Wanda dragged a hand down her face, pacing once in place before stopping again, eyes snapping back to Y/N. “…Are you serious right now?”

Nothing. Y/N didn’t even stir.

The calm of it, the peace of it—it irritated her. Not really at Y/N, but it had nowhere else to go.

“Unbelievable,” Wanda muttered under her breath, heat still burning across her face.

Before she could think better of it, she grabbed a pillow and threw it. It hit Y/N square in the head.

Y/N jolted up instantly—fully alert, eyes sharp, body tensing like she was ready for a fight, gaze snapping around the room in less than a second. “What—?”

Her eyes landed on Wanda.

Confused.

“…What happened?”

Wanda froze for half a second, caught between embarrassment and panic, her face still bright red. “I—nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly.

Y/N frowned slightly, still trying to assess the situation. “You threw a pillow at me.”

“I didn’t throw it,” Wanda snapped, then immediately regretted how sharp it came out. “I just—”

She cut herself off, turning away abruptly. “Just go shower.”

Y/N blinked. “…Okay?”

There was a pause. Y/N glanced down at herself—still in the same clothes from outside, a little wrinkled, maybe slightly dusty from the bed. Realization clicked in her head.

“…Oh.”

She stood up without arguing. “Sorry,” she said simply. “I didn’t mean to get the bed dirty.”

Wanda pressed her lips together, guilt flickering briefly, but she didn’t turn back.

Y/N didn’t question it further. She just grabbed her things and headed toward the bathroom. The door closed behind her.

And the second it did, Wanda let out a long, frustrated groan, dropping onto the bed and covering her face with both hands.

“…What is wrong with me?”

---

The sound of the shower cutting off was the only warning Wanda had.

She had been staring at the same paragraph for ten minutes, the words blurring into meaningless shapes as her mind replayed that reckless, impulsive kiss over and over. She needed to be normal. She needed to be the cool, composed Wanda Maximoff who hadn't just had a minor heart attack because her “friend” was sleeping.

The bathroom door creaked open.

Wanda looked up, ready to offer a casual, distant nod. Instead, the book nearly slipped from her numb fingers.

Y/N stepped into the room, a cloud of steam following her. She wasn't wearing a shirt—just a tight black sports bra that left very little to the imagination and a pair of loose athletic shorts. She was focused on her hair, vigorously rubbing a towel over her head, her muscles shifting and rippling with every movement.

Wanda froze. Her breath didn't just hitch; it died in her throat.

"Why..." Wanda’s voice came out as a strained squeak. She cleared her throat, trying again. "Why are you shirtless?"

Y/N pulled the towel away, her hair a messy, damp halo around her face. She looked at Wanda with those steady, honest eyes, completely oblivious to the internal meltdown she was causing. "I'm hot," Y/N said simply. "The shower was steaming, and my internal temp is higher anyway. Is it a problem?"

"No," Wanda managed, though her brain was screaming yes.

Despite her best efforts to look literally anywhere else, Wanda’s eyes betrayed her. They traveled. She saw the damp skin of Y/N’s shoulders, the way the sports bra hugged her chest, the defined, powerful lines of her abs that flexed as she moved to toss the towel aside. And then, her gaze dipped lower—following the trail of water droplets past the waistband of the shorts toward Y/N's crotch.

The heat that flooded Wanda’s face was instantaneous and agonizing. It felt like her skin was actually on fire.

The heat that flooded Wanda’s face was instantaneous and agonizing. It felt like her skin was actually on fire, the blood rushing to her cheeks with such force it made her ears ring.

"Wanda?" Y/N’s voice was low, vibrating with that steady, grounding tone that usually calmed her, but right now it only made the fire spread. "Your face is really red. Are you having a reaction to something?"

Wanda didn't answer with words. Instead, she moved with a frantic, jerky speed, snapping her head away and nearly fumbling her book onto the floor. She shoved it onto the nightstand without looking and scrambled further down under the covers, pulling the duvet up until only the very top of her head was visible.

"I'm fine!" she muffled into the fabric, her voice sounding strangled even to her own ears. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force her heart to stop hammering against her ribs. She was a Master of Chaos Magic, a woman who had faced down titans, yet she was currently hiding from a pair of shoulders.

Then, she felt it. The mattress dipped. The heavy, solid weight of Y/N shifted the bed behind her. Wanda stiffened, her breath hitching as she felt the heat radiating from Y/N’s body—a heat that had nothing to do with the shower and everything to do with the proximity.

"Wanda, look at me," Y/N murmured.

Suddenly, a face peeked over the edge of the duvet, looking down at her. Y/N had propped herself up on one elbow, her damp hair hanging over her forehead, those intense eyes searching Wanda's for any sign of injury or illness. From this angle, the sports bra left even less to the imagination, the curve of her collarbone just inches from Wanda’s nose.

"Go to sleep, Y/N," Wanda hissed, clutching the blanket tighter.

"Not if you're sick," Y/N countered stubbornly. She didn't move. In fact, she lay down fully behind Wanda, her front pressing dangerously close to Wanda’s back. "You're warm. Let me check." Y/N reached out, her hand sliding over the silk of Wanda’s sleeve to find the bare skin of her arm. It wasn't a grab; it was a caress—slow, firm, and devastatingly gentle.

Wanda snapped. The friction of Y/N’s palm against her skin was the final spark. Driven by a mix of frantic embarrassment, overwhelming desire, and the sheer exhaustion of hiding, Wanda whipped around to face her.

"I told you I'm—" The words died.

She froze. Turning around had been a mistake. Y/N was right there—breath-to-breath, skin-to-skin. The sight of her shirtless, the scent of rain and cedarwood clinging to her damp skin, and the raw, honest concern in her eyes stripped away the last of Wanda’s defenses.

Y/N opened her mouth to ask one more time if she was okay, her lips parting just a fraction. But Wanda didn't give her the chance.

She lunged forward, her hands tangling into Y/N’s damp hair, and pulled her down. She kissed her hard—desperate and bruising—silencing the questions and the logic and the world outside the room all at once.

The kiss was a sudden, violent collision of everything they had been holding back for weeks. But as quickly as the spark had ignited, Wanda’s mind caught up to her body. She pulled away with a sharp gasp, her chest heaving as she scrambled backward against the headboard. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide and shimmering with a sudden, sharp panic.

“I—I’m sorry,” Wanda stammered, her voice trembling. “Y/N, I shouldn't have—I didn't mean to just—”

She didn't get to finish the apology. Y/N moved like a shadow, closing the distance before Wanda could even blink. She didn't ask; she didn't hesitate. She surged forward and captured Wanda’s lips in a kiss that was deeper, hungrier, and far more demanding than the first. It wasn't a question—it was an answer.

Wanda let out a soft, broken moan against Y/N’s mouth, her panic dissolving into pure, unadulterated heat. The kiss was intense, flavored with the lingering sweetness of the market treats and the sharp, clean scent of the shower. It was a desperate exchange, their tongues tangling as they tried to make up for every moment they had spent pretending they didn't want this.

Wanda’s hands, which had been trembling with fear a second ago, now gripped Y/N’s bare shoulders with a bruising force. She felt the damp, smooth skin, the hard muscle beneath, and it wasn't enough. She wanted more. She wanted the weight.

Driven by a sudden, fierce need, Wanda hooked her fingers into the waistband of Y/N’s shorts and pulled. She guided Y/N up and over her, and Y/N followed the movement without a second of resistance, sliding between Wanda’s legs until she was hovering directly over her.

The contact was electric. Wanda wrapped her legs around Y/N’s waist, pulling her flush against her. The feeling of Y/N’s sports bra-clad chest pressing into her own, their heartbeats slamming together in a frantic, syncopated rhythm, made the world outside the room vanish.

Y/N’s hands were everywhere—clutching Wanda’s waist, sliding up to cup her face, then tangling deep into her hair to tilt her head back and deepen the kiss even further. They were both gasping for air, their breaths hitching and catching, but neither would break the contact. It was a scramble of limbs and desperate, wandering hands. Every touch felt like a brand. Wanda’s fingers traced the line of Y/N’s spine, marveling at the strength there, while Y/N’s thumb grazed the line of Wanda’s jaw, her touch firm and possessive.

The air in the room felt thick, heavy with a heat that was quickly spiraling out of control. Every time their lips met, it was like a fresh jolt of electricity, leaving Wanda’s head spinning and her body humming with a desperate, localized ache.

They continued to kiss frantically, their movements uncoordinated and driven by pure, raw instinct. When Y/N shifted, grinding her crotch firmly between Wanda’s legs, the friction sent a jolt of pleasure so sharp through Wanda’s system that she couldn't stop the long, broken moan that escaped her throat. The sound was swallowed by Y/N’s mouth, fueling the fire even more.

Through the thin fabric of the athletic shorts, Wanda could feel the unmistakable, rigid heat of Y/N—she was hard already, responding to Wanda with a ferocity that made Wanda’s heart skip a beat. Desperate to close the final bit of distance, Wanda’s hand wandered down, her fingers trembling as they slipped beneath the elastic waistband of Y/N’s shorts. The contact with skin—real, hot, bare skin—was almost too much to bear.

“Wanda…”

Y/N’s voice was soft, a mere breath against her ear. Wanda didn't stop; she leaned into the sound, letting out a soft, affirmative hum as she tilted her head to give Y/N better access to her neck. She wanted this. She wanted all of it.

“Wanda?”

The name was louder this time, tinged with a note of confusion that didn't fit the rhythm of the moment.

“Wanda!”

The world shattered.

Wanda’s eyes snapped open, and the weight of Y/N’s body, the heat of the kiss, and the friction of the sheets vanished in a heartbeat. The suffocatingly hot air of the Budapest night was suddenly replaced by the cool, quiet stillness of the bedroom.

Wanda blinked, her breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches. She wasn't pinned under a beautiful, shirtless wolf; she was sitting upright against the headboard, her knuckles white as she gripped the edges of her book. The pages were crinkled where her fingers had dug in, and she realized with a jolt of horror that she hadn't moved a single inch.

Beside the bed, Y/N was standing perfectly still, the towel still draped over her damp hair. She was wearing her sports bra and shorts, just as she had been when she walked out of the bathroom, but there was no hunger in her eyes—only deep, furrowed concern.

“Wanda?” Y/N asked again, her voice low and cautious. “Are you okay? You were… you were staring at that page for like three minutes without blinking. Your heart rate just went through the roof.”

Wanda felt the phantom sensation of Y/N’s skin still lingering on her fingertips. Did she really imagine all of that? Her face, which she thought had reached its limit of redness, somehow managed to burn even hotter.

“I—I…” Wanda stammered, her eyes darting to the book, then to the floor, then anywhere that wasn't Y/N’s bare midriff. “I just… the book. It got very… interesting.”

She snapped the book shut with a loud thwack, her hands shaking so much she had to tuck them under the covers. “I’m fine,” she managed, though her voice was a octave higher than usual. “Just… got lost in thought. I’m fine!”

Y/N didn’t look convinced. Her brows were still slightly furrowed as she stepped closer, slow and careful, like Wanda might bolt if she moved too fast. Without asking, she lifted her hand and pressed it gently against Wanda’s forehead.

Warm.

But not that kind of warm.

“…You’re really hot,” Y/N murmured, more to herself than anything.

Wanda’s entire body went rigid.

“I said I’m fine,” she insisted quickly, maybe a little too quickly, her voice still higher than usual.

Y/N’s hand lingered for a second longer, then slid slightly to the side of her face, thumb brushing her temple in a way that was meant to be grounding—

But only made Wanda’s heart spike again.

“I’m not sick,” Wanda added, softer this time but firm, pulling the blanket up slightly like a barrier. “Just tired.”

Y/N studied her for another moment. Searching. Listening.

Then, slowly, she nodded. “…Okay.” She didn’t fully believe it. But she let it go.

Wanda didn’t wait for anything else. She turned onto her side quickly, facing away from Y/N, pulling the blanket up just a little higher as if that could hide the heat still burning across her face. “Goodnight,” she murmured, quieter now.

Behind her, there was a brief pause, then the subtle shift of the mattress as Y/N moved, settling into the space beside her. Not too close. Not touching. Respecting the distance Wanda had just created.

“…Goodnight,” Y/N replied.

Silence followed, but it wasn’t empty.

Wanda’s eyes stayed open longer than she wanted, staring into the dimness of the room, her thoughts still racing—replaying everything: what she had imagined, what she had almost done earlier, what she was feeling now. Her heart hadn’t fully calmed, and the worst part—she could still feel it.

Phantom touches. Lingering warmth. The memory of something that hadn’t even happened.

Wanda squeezed her eyes shut.

Get it together.

Beside her, Y/N’s breathing slowly evened out—calm, steady, unaware.

And somehow—

That made everything harder.

---

Y/N’s POV

The next morning felt quieter—not awkward, not tense, just softer. Wanda didn’t bring up the night before, and Y/N didn’t push. Whatever had happened with Wanda, stayed unspoken.

They spent the morning walking through Budapest one last time, retracing familiar areas but taking different routes. Y/N slowed often, letting her senses stretch, filtering through the overwhelming mix of scents and sounds. Still nothing—no trace of Nat, no sign of Steve or Bucky, nothing recent enough to follow. By early afternoon, the city had grown louder, crowds thickening, the hum of life swallowing any chance of picking out something specific. Y/N exhaled as they paused near a quieter street corner. “…Nothing,” she said.

Wanda nodded, not surprised. “It was worth checking.”

Y/N glanced at her. Wanda didn’t look disappointed—just resolved. That made it easier.

“We should go,” Y/N said.

“Yeah,” Wanda agreed.

No hesitation this time. They went back, grabbed their things, and within an hour were at the station. The bus wasn’t full—just enough people to blend in. Y/N took the aisle seat automatically; Wanda chose the window. The engine rumbled to life, and slowly, Budapest slipped away behind them.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The scenery shifted from crowded streets to quieter outskirts, buildings thinning into open land. Wanda leaned her head lightly against the window, watching it pass. Y/N sat beside her, posture relaxed but attentive, eyes scanning out of habit—just not as sharp as before.

After a while, Wanda shifted slightly, her shoulder brushing against Y/N’s. She didn’t move away, and neither did Y/N. A few minutes later, Wanda’s hand slipped between them—not fully reaching, just there. Close.

Y/N noticed.

After a second, her fingers moved gently, carefully finding Wanda’s and intertwining them like it was something they didn’t question anymore. Wanda didn’t look at her. She just let it happen, her hand settling in Y/N’s as she kept her gaze on the road ahead.

The bus carried them forward—away from Budapest, toward the next city, toward whatever came next.

Together.

---

The next city blurred into motion. They didn’t stay long—just enough to step off the bus, move through the station, and buy another ticket heading further out. Keep moving, no patterns, no time to settle. It had become routine—efficient, safe.

By the time they stepped back out into the streets, the sky had already begun to darken, lights flickering on across storefronts as people moved in steady evening rhythms—heading home, meeting friends, living normal lives that still felt slightly out of reach. “We still have time,” Wanda said, glancing around. “We should eat.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah.”

They moved through the streets side by side, not rushing, blending into the flow. The air was cooler here, sharper than Budapest, carrying different scents—cleaner in some places, heavier in others. Y/N’s hand brushed Wanda’s briefly, then stayed. Wanda didn’t pull away.

They walked like that, quiet but comfortable, scanning casually for somewhere to eat—and then Y/N stopped. Abruptly.

Wanda took another step before realizing, her hand pulling slightly as Y/N didn’t move. “Y/N?”

No response.

Y/N’s head tilted slightly, her grip on Wanda’s hand tightening—not painful, but firm. Focused. She inhaled slowly, deep, again. The world around her shifted instantly—background noise fading, scents separating, layering, organizing—

And then—

There.

Faint, but unmistakable.

Y/N’s eyes sharpened. “…Nat.”

Wanda stilled. “What?”

Y/N turned slightly, scanning the street—not with her eyes, but with something deeper. “Scent,” she said quietly. “Faint. But it’s hers.”

Wanda’s breath caught. “Here?”

Y/N nodded once, then her head shifted again, following, tracking. “…Moving,” she added.

That changed everything.

Wanda’s posture straightened instantly, tension snapping back into place. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

No hesitation. No doubt.

Y/N’s grip on her hand tightened again. “Come on.”

And then she moved—not running, but fast enough to weave through the crowd with purpose, pulling Wanda along with her. Her focus locked forward, every step guided by something only she could sense.

The scent shifted—subtle at first, then faster.

Y/N’s pace adjusted instantly, weaving tighter through people, cutting corners sharper. Wanda followed without question, her grip firm in Y/N’s hand as the city blurred around them.

“They’re moving,” Y/N said under her breath.

Wanda nodded, already scanning ahead, behind, above—anywhere someone could disappear.

The trail pulled them off the main street, into a narrower one—then narrower still. Until—a back street. Dimly lit, quiet, empty.

Y/N stopped abruptly. The scent stopped right there. Her eyes narrowed. “…No.”

Wanda turned in a slow circle, scanning every shadow, every doorway, every rooftop edge. “I don’t see anyone.”

“They’re here,” Y/N said, voice low, certain. “They didn’t vanish.”

She stepped forward slightly, head tilting, breathing in again—deeper this time, searching for any trace of movement.

Nothing. Too still. Too—

Her head snapped sharply to the side.

Movement.

Before Wanda could react, Y/N moved—fast. She yanked Wanda behind her with one arm while the other shot forward, catching a wrist mid-motion.

A gun.

Y/N’s grip locked around it instantly, stopping it cold before it could aim properly. Her body shifted between Wanda and the threat, shoulders squared, stance grounded. A low growl tore from her chest.

“Don’t.”

The person froze.

Small. Blonde. Her arm trapped in Y/N’s hold, the gun still in her hand but completely useless now.

Wanda’s heart pounded as she peered from behind Y/N’s shoulder, red energy flickering faintly at her fingertips.

Y/N’s growl deepened for a second—then she inhaled mid-growl and stilled.

Her grip didn’t loosen, but her expression changed—confusion cutting through the aggression. Her nose flared slightly, taking in the scent again, closer this time, stronger—

But wrong.

“…Why,” Y/N said slowly, her voice dropping into something more controlled, more dangerous in its quiet, “do you smell like her?”

The blonde woman didn’t move, didn’t fight.

Y/N’s eyes sharpened, golden flickering faintly at the edges. “Why do you smell like Nat?”

The blonde woman didn’t flinch—not at the growl, not at the grip tightening painfully around her wrist. Her eyes flicked from Y/N to Wanda, calm, too calm, taking everything in with sharp precision. Then they dropped briefly to Wanda’s hand, where faint scarlet energy still pulsed.

Recognition clicked.

“You are the Avengers,” she said, her accent unmistakably Russian, voice steady despite the situation.

Y/N’s grip tightened further. “Who are you?” she demanded, low and dangerous.

The woman’s wrist was still trapped, the gun caught between them, but she didn’t hiss, didn’t struggle. If anything, she looked mildly unimpressed.

“Relax,” she said flatly. “I’m not a threat.”

Before Y/N could respond, the woman twisted her wrist just enough—not breaking free by force, but slipping out with controlled precision. Y/N let her go, but didn’t step back, her body still firmly between Wanda and the stranger. The gun stayed in the woman’s hand, lowered but not gone.

She adjusted her stance slightly, then looked directly at Y/N again. “If I smell like Natasha,” she said, “it is because she is my sister.”

Wanda’s breath caught.

She stepped out from behind Y/N, moving to her side, eyes narrowing as she studied the woman more closely now—the blonde hair, the stance, the confidence.

Recognition hit.

“…You’re Yelena?” Wanda said.

The woman’s gaze shifted to her, a small tilt of her head. “Yes.”

A beat.

Then, dryly—

“Now care to explain what happened to my sister?”

---

Leave your comments! 

[fortuositywritings]

Wanda x Reader (series), Complete

Summary: You spend every summer at your cousin Laura Barton’s house. Only this summer, you aren’t the only guest.

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10

Additional/Side Stories

The Great Animal Rescue

The Yelena Incident

House Map

[captains-simp]

Wanda Maximoff ~ Fake It Till You Make It

Wanda version of this fic as requested by @yeetus-thyself

7.7k words

Warnings: shitty family and homophobia

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Pleeaasse, Wan" You pouted once again. You had been begging Wanda for the favour for an hour now; her stubborness was proving hard to overcome.

"I'm busy." Wanda said, her accent strong as she walked around her appartment to collect things for her next mission.

"But will you be busy on the 10th?" You asked from the couch where you watched her disappear into various rooms as she talked.

"I thought you said it was a few days." Wanda quipped, seemingly only giving you half her attention.

"It is." You confirmed with some hope.

"So I'd need to clear my schedule for more than just the 10th." You huffed and rested your head on the back of couch.

"Yes you would. I'm sure Natasha can manage without you for a few days."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." She muttered.

"Please, Wan." You tried. "I need a win." Wanda stopped by the kitchen counter and gave you a long, considering look. You had long given up on your puppy dog eyes and instead copied her expression as you chewed on your bottom lip.

"I'll think about it." Wanda finally said before grabbing something from the cupboard. It was the best response you had gotten all night and you knew you wouldn't get anything more. So you accepted it and hoped for the best.

Your parents had invited you to their cabin for a few days just like they did every year. It was a beautiful place. You could spend your whole visit in the forest along the back. Or swimming in the clear lake that was a short walk away. The cabin itself was the cosiest place you had ever been and had been where some of your best memories had happened as a kid.

As you got older things changed. Being around your family, especially your parents, wasn't as enjoyable. They had high expectations for their children, expectations that your siblings had met without a problem but ones that you had struggled with. You enjoyed your life. You had the kind of relationships you had always hoped for, you loved your job and you had the perfect balance of the two. But you could never shake the feeling that you had failed.

Your brother was a surgeon who always told you all stories of the lives he saved and the close calls he had swooped in to save people from. One of your sisters was some hot shot lawyer who had done great things like help people wrongly convicted but still put dangerous people back on the street. And your other sister was the CEO of an energy company that you never quite understood. They even all had equally successful partners who loved to talk about themselves as much as your siblings did. You didn't have any of that. But you did have Wanda.

Knowing the Avengers was the only thing about you your family took interest in. They were always subtly hinting at wanting to meet your friends. But you knew the Avengers had to endure enough fan service and didn't want to push your family onto them, especially with how annoying they all were.

However as your family's unrealistic expectations reached their all time high you were sure you wouldn't be able to handle another trip with them without a win, and you were far too petty to take the moral high ground and just not go. Not to mention that was a huge part of you that was dying to see what the Wanda girlfriend experience would entail. Yep, that was what you were asking of Wanda. To pretend to be your partner for the duration of the trip.

You knew it wasn't a smart choice. That if Wanda agreed your crush on her could get out of hand. You knew you would end up getting too caught up in the act. You could have, no - should have - asked Natasha or Yelena or even Carol if she was around. But your family knew you were the closest with Wanda and she would be the one it felt the most natural with, and the most believable. At least, that was what you told Wanda.

"When are you going?" You asked, changing the subject in hopes that Wanda wouldn't suddenly conclude she didn't want to do it (then you really would have to ask one of the others).

"Tomorrow." She answered, keeping her focused tone.

"When will you be back?" You attempted to keep the concern out of your voice but the glance the redhead gave you told you you hadn't done a good job.

"The day after." She said, softer this time. You nodded as you looked down at your lap and tried not to think about everything that could possibly go wrong on her mission.

"Be safe." Wanda strolled over to you and placed her hand gently ontop of yours and gave it a quick squeeze.

"Always."

*

"Got any plans Saturday night?" Natasha smirked knowingly at her friend as they preped for their mission.

"No." Wanda replied as she adjusted her earpiece.

"Nothing with y/n then?" Nat asked, partly genuinely but mostly knowing Wanda would still say no.

"Nope." She said again, biting the inside of her cheek in consideration before speaking again. "Not this Saturday."

Natasha raised an eyebrow in surprise and interest. Wanda rarely made any kind of special plans with you as you would always hang out casual and it was never anything fancy or different. She had always wanted to though.

"Plans for another time?" Nat continued as she double checked her pack.

"Maybe, I'm still thinking about it." The redhead turned fully to her friend at her words, confused at why Wanda was hesitant to spend time with you. "She wants me to go to the cabin with her and her family." Nat had heard all about the infamous cabin and your family.

"That sounds fun." Nat nodded. The cabin sounded fun. Your family did not.

"As her girlfriend." Nat's eyes widened excitedly but before she could speak Wanda clarified. "Her pretend girlfriend."

Nat paused and looked as though she was going to speak for several seconds until she stuck to just giving a confused look.

"Yeah." Wanda sighed. "Thinks it would seem impressive." Wanda had tried not to be hurt over that. She knew you weren't just friends with her to show her off to people, because you never did. But it hurt her to think the only time you could see her in a romantic way was when you were pretending.

"Well," Nat muttered as she adjusted the zip along the front of her catsuit. "Fake it till you make it." It was Wanda's turn to give Nat a questioning look. "Maybe it'll be an eye opener for her."

"You think I should do it?" She asked, fully open to hearing and accepting her friend and mentor's advice in that area.

"Definelty." Nat confirmed. She wasn't sure about it for the reasons she said though. Wanda's crush on you was obvious to everyone except you, just as it was vice versa.

*

You had been overjoyed when Wanda told you she would come with you to the cabin and play along as your girlfriend. She had told you when she came back from her mission, in fact it was the first thing she said after she had let herself into your appartment. It was never really brought up after that, but you couldn't deny you were incredibly anxious on the week leading up to the visit.

On the drive up to the cabin you and Wanda stayed in a comfortable silence most of the time, clearly both lost in thought. You had the radio on for background noise more than anything else, but you would occasionally lightly tap the steering wheel if there was a tune you recognised, oblivious to Wanda's acknowledging smiles.

"So what's the plan?" Wanda asked as she looked at you expectantly. Right, of course the Avenger wanted a strategy.

"Keep things simple, I guess. They know how we met already so we can just say at some point we took things a step further than friendship." Wanda didn't seem convinced at the simplicity of that. "Look they're not going to want to hear about us, not much at least. They prefer the sound of their own voices, they'll be trying to impress you is all."

"Impress me?" Wanda asked.

"Yeah, hope you warm up to them so one day they can invite you to their snobby parties." Wanda chuckled her heart warming laugh as she glanced out of the window, knowing there was a lot of truth to what you said.

"And what are those like?" She enquired curiously.

"I wouldn't know, I've never been invited." You said simply. You had gotten over that a long time ago, gotten used to being forgotten. Wanda clearly hadn't though.

"It will be an honour to turn them down." Wanda said. You shook your head and smiled at her. That did sound pretty nice.

When the cabin came into sight between the trees your nerves spiked. You figited in your seat and bit your lip when you saw some of your family gathered outside, their attention instantly on you. You shot Wanda a quick smile which she returned before you got out of the car.

"Y/n! So nice of you to come." You mum said as her eyes flickered to Wanda more than you. She opened her arms for the shortiest hug in human history before turning to Wanda. "You must be Wanda, we've heard so much." You mum insisted as she brought the redhead in for a hug too. She raised her eyebrows at you over your mum's shoulder and you bite back a laugh.

The others came over to greet you and mainly Wanda in a rush, overwhelming both of you.

"You two will be in the upstairs bedroom on the left." Your mum told you as you went to grab your bags. You did a double take, convinced you had heard her wrong. That was the best room in the house. A big difference from being in the small room in the basement every other time you had been there.

"First one on the left." Your dad confirmed. There was no way your parents were going to be in the basement so you wondered who else had been moved around but didn't ask, knowing whoever it was wasn't going to be happy.

You and Wanda made your way up to the room and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of the spacious room and the door you knew led to your en suite.

"That was...a lot." Wanda summarised as she said her bag under the bed.

"I would tell you it gets better but I don't want to get your hopes up." You sighed as you got a couple of things out.

"It's just a few days." Wanda said despite the fact you should have been assuring her.

"Yeah." You nodded and stared down at the floor. "Now c'mon." You suddenly said as you took ahold of Wanda's hand and laced your fingers together. You missed the startled blush that crept onto her cheeks when you turned around.

Your family were sat outside whispering amongst themselves when you returned. Their interested gaze fell to your entwined hands in an instant.

"So you work with the Avengers?" Your brother, Dalton, said as soon as you both sat down.

"I do, I'm one myself." Wanda said as she continued to hold onto your hand.

"Must be crazy, what are they like?" He enquired.

"They're good." Wanda said simply. Everyone clearly expected something more but Wanda pretended not to notice making you smile.

"I almost did business with Stark once, decided against it in the end." Claire announced proudly. You and Wanda exchanged knowing glances. Stark had told you all about his encounter with your sister, it definetly wasn't her turning him down.

"I was invited to one of his parties." Anna said quickly. "I was busy that night unfortunately."

Bull. Shit.

"Yes I remember working with Doctor Strange when he was still in the medical profession." You gave Wanda an I-told-you-so look as your family erupted into conversation over who had the most contact with the heroes. That had to be a new record of how quickly they started talking about themselves.

They continued like that until your mum called everyone in for dinner. The food smelt undeniably amazing as you took your place at the table next to Wanda and eyed the dishes infront of you. Your parents efforts to impress the redhead weren't all that bad.

Your family continued to catch up and and you and Wanda half listened as you ate. They were all doing as well for themselves as ever and still hadn't learnt any modesty.

Although you were proud of your siblings for what they had all achieved, Wanda had contained four potentially devastating bombs from going off in the space of half an hour a week before but she wasn't going to bring that up anytime soon. Eventually though, the attention turned to you to bring you out of your silence.

"And you're still working in that little café, y/n?" Your mum asked curiously.

"I own it, mum." You corrected quietly as you stabbed some pieces on your plate.

"Ah yes, quite the contrast though, isn't it. Between you two." She said as she pointed at you and Wanda with her fork. You didn't say anything to that because you felt there really wasn't anything to say in response. It wasn't like you hadn't thought that exact thing every now and then.

"The team loves it." Wanda said suddenly making everyone, including you, look at her in slight surprise from speaking up. It hadn't taken your family long to learn Wabda wasn't much of a talker, not to them anyway. You couldn't get her to shut up half the time. "At least one of us goes everyday. If we're lucky we all can. Nothing beats it." She defended simply before turning back to her food to show she wasn't going to say anymore. You smiled down at your plate at her words and the truth of them.

No one said anything in response, clearly shocked from this new information until Dalton spoke up.

"But doesn't Stark like fancy, top of the line, restaurants? I can't imagine him in some random coffee shop, no offence sis." He nodded towards you though you knew he didn't mean it. He couldn't let you have just one win.

"That random coffee shop has catered some of Stark's parties. Not that many though." A smug smile crept onto Dalton's face as he opened his mouth to make a snarky remark but Wanda cut him down again. "Because y/n's invited to the rest as a guest and a close friend." Your family stared at you with open mouths.

"You've been invited to Stark's parties?!" Anna exclaimed. In your defence, your family never wanted to hear about your life so you never got the chance to tell them anything.

"It's not really my crowd." You shrugged. "I just go to hang out with them after." Dalton's jaw clenched in annoyance and he didn't say anything for the rest of dinner. It was only really your mum who kept talking. Telling everyone about her latest travels that fell on death ears.

It was certainly a first for your family.

When everyone had finished their food you and Wanda excused yourselves and said goodnight before retiring to your room. Wanda shut the door gently as you collapsed onto the bed on your back and glared at the ceiling. The redhead shuffled around quietly to get her toothbrush and toothpaste and some other things you weren't really paying attention to and went into the bathroom.

When she came back out she was in her bedclothes and lifted your feet off the floor to turn you so you could fully lay on the bed. You smiled at her weakly.

"You should go get changed." Wanda said as she got her laptop out her bag. "Then you can pick a movie." She announced when she had gotten under the covers and started her laptop. You smiled more and nodded.

You tried not to think about your family and everything they had said at dinner as you got changed but it proved difficult. Everything they had said echoed around in your head but most of all you couldn't shake the disregarding ways they said it. It was as though you could do no right with them. Maybe they would never be proud no matter what you did.

You placed your toothbrush back I'm the holder and rinsed your mouth before heading back into the bedroom to an awaiting Wanda.

You got under the covers next to her and rested your head on her shoulder as you glanced at the Netflix screen and pointed to one of the comedy movies.

About ten minutes into the movie Wanda spoke. "You okay?" She whispered as she continued to look at the screen although that wasn't where her focus was.

"Yeah." You whispered back.

"You can talk to me." She said after a second." You moved your head away so you could see Wanda clearly.

"I'm so glad you're here." You said honestly. She smiled and nodded as her eyes searched yours.

"I'm glad I'm here too." You knew Wanda wasn't glad she had to spend the time with your family. She was glad that she could support you despite their efforts to bring you down. You were incredibly lucky to have her.

You rested your head back on her shoulder and neither of you spoke for the rest of the movie. Or the rest of the night. You must have fallen asleep about half an hour in.

*

Wanda was one of the most intimate people you had ever met. It was mainly something she aimed towards you and Natasha but didn't refrain from comforting others and giving hugs to anyone who would take one. She never held back at all with you, as far as you knew. But when you woke up and couldn't tell where your limbs started and Wanda's ended, you were still surprised to find yourselves like that. Butterflies flew around in your stomach in a way you knew was dangerous but couldn't help but love.

You were resting your head on her rising chest and had your arm slung across her stomach. Your legs were tangled together and her arms were holding onto your waist. A warmth spread through you and you decided to settle back into her hold and closed your eyes with a content smile.

You had about ten minutes to enjoy that before Wanda woke up. You could feel the moment she realized you were so close, she physically froze. You waited in anticipation for something for several moments until your friend very slowly unhooked her legs and guided your body to lay against the mattress and pillows as she slipped out of bed towards the bathroom.

You sighed when you heard the door close and rubbed your eyes slowly, knowing you should get up but wishing more than anything that you could return to how you woke up.

"Morning." Wanda croaked when she left the bathroom and saw you sitting up in bed.

"Morning." You said back with a smile and tried not to focus on how ridiculously attractive her voice sounded.

You gathered some random clothes into a bundle and went into the bathroom to change again and brush your teeth. When you came out Wanda was pulling her shirt over her head and gave you a generous view of her toned stomach. That training with Natasha really was paying off. Your face heated up when you saw it and you turned away to pretend you hadn't seen when Wanda noticed you.

"Don't make a sound." Wanda warned. You glanced up at her with some confusion. "I don't think your family's awake yet, that means we get the kitchen to ourselves." She grinned and you did too.

You and Wanda had gotten so used to getting up early for your jobs you forgot other people would still be sleeping. It was hard to break out of the habit but it proved useful.

The pair of you made a quick breakfast and ate it outside thanks to the warm weather even at that time. But soon enough your parents came downstairs and ruined the peaceful atmosphere with the clanging of pots and loud convosations.

You wandered around the side of the house and saw the old table tennis table that bad been folded away years ago and hadn't been set up since. You went over and started setting it up when Wanda joined you and eyed the table with a glimmer of mischief.

The redhead wasn't all that competitive, in fact you were pretty sure she let other people win games on the regular to make them feel better about themselves. But there was an undeniable spark of mischief in her eyes when she saw the table.

"You played this before?" You asked convosationally.

"I have." She said as you both automatically took up your positions of opposite ends of the table.

"Me too." You said confidently. "A lot." Wanda hummed in acknowledgment and swivelled her bat in her hand and stood ready. You smiled at her seriousness for the game.

You served surprisingly well for someone who hadn't played in a few years and Wanda was able to hit it back with ease. Once you had developed a steady pace you started hitting the ball more daringly to Wanda who was caught off guard before she started doing the same.

The moment you missed the ball a small smile tugged at the corner of Wanda's lips, her celebration was short lived when you suddenly sent the ball back her way until it was too late.

"That wasn't fair!" She exclaimed childishly.

"That was tables tennis." You said seriously but started smiling again.

Wanda huffed dramatically and flipped you off as she trudged back to the table and served the ball with force. You managed to send it back but took a step away from the table in caution.

You continued like that for a while. The competition tension rising as you picked up the pace, one of you occasionally getting a point before the other evened it out.

At one point you were vaguely aware of Dalton sauntering over to see what you were doing and arched his brow at the sight of the table.

"We still have this thing?" He questioned and you hummed quietly in response, too focused on the game.

"Hey Claire! Get over here, we're playing table tennis." You rolled your eyes at the intrusive and could sense Wanda refraining from doing the same until an idea popped into your head.

You caught the ball in your hand and smiled at Wanda's protests as you moved round to her side of the table just as your sister came out.

"I didn't even know we still had this." Claire laughed as she picked up another bat from the box.

"Maybe we should take it back with us." Wanda whispered to you and you bit your lip to contain your smile because yes, yes you should.

Inevitably, your siblings sucked at table tennis. You had suspected as much you just never thought they would be as bad as they were. They missed almost every hit and everytime they did they got increasingly angry, which meant they ended up flaring their arms around like idiots. It was a memory you would be sure to treasure.

"Stupid game" and "probably broken" kept echoing across the table until your siblings finally stormed off to throw a tantrum.

The rest of the day went by quietly. You and Wanda sat by the lake for most of the afternoon to enjoy the sun and heat. You reveled in the most recent memories of your siblings embarrassment and had to keep hushing down to childish whispered whenever one of them was nearby.

Surprisingly, dinner went by peacefully too.

You weren't asked anymore questions at the table. Instead, your family were content with talking about their upcoming plans between stealing glances at you and Wanda that the redhead never failed to notice.

The pair of you slipped off to your room the first moment you got and easily fell into bed besides one another. Wanda picked out a DVD from her bag of an old Sokovian show she used to watch as a child and had you hooked on as well as teaching you the language.

She settled down beside you and within the first few scenes she wrapped an arm around your shoulder so you could sink into her further like she did sometimes when you watched things together. You were barely paying attention to the series after that.

Despite trying to keep your focus on understanding what was happening in scenes of the show, you couldn't help but want to melt under the warmth of your best friend. You hoped it was something you got to experience more, you felt safer than you ever had in Wanda's arms.

Little did you know that having you in her arms was the most comforting feeling Wanda ever experienced and she always tried to do it as little as possible to refrain from falling for you more. It never worked.

*

You had thought waking up in Wanda's arms the morning before had been the best thing to awake to. But that day when you woke up not only were your legs tangled together again but the redhead was slowly stroking your hair while your head rested on her chest.

It was a gradual gesture that maintained a perfect rhythm and made you want to fall back asleep. But you were afraid you would mistake it for a dream later on. No, it was definitely real.

Luckily, your head was already tilted upwards slightly so when you secretly opened your eyes to risk a peek at your friend you saw her staring out the window as though she was in a trance. She was clearly so deep in thought she hadn't noticed you wake up, you had never seen her like it. But the feeling was too good to ignore, too compelling.

Soon enough, you found yourself drifting off back to sleep.

*

When you woke up again Wanda was gone. Her absence left an emptiness you knew wasn't good for you. As the days of your visit went on your fake relationship with Wanda was going to effect you even more when it was over.

Over...you couldn't think about that.

Once you got up and got changed you found Wanda in the kitchen looking at the news on her phone as she sipped her coffee.

"Morning, honey." You grinned. Wanda blushed slightly into her coffee, something you thought was undeniably adorable.

"Morning yourself." She tried to play off smoothly making you grin more.

You made breakfast for you both just as your mum came into the kitchen and greeted you both with an overplayed smile, already talking to Wanda about an upcoming party that she should go to. Wanda mumbled something about a busy schedule as you managed to whisp her away outside with your food.

Eventually, you and Wanda became bored with sitting around in the house when you had such amazing surroundings on your doorstep. You declared that you were going on a walk with the redhead and left before any of your family could invite themselves to go with you. Especially as you had told your friend to wear her swimwear underneath her clothing as you had a surprise for her.

You made a point of holding Wanda's hand as you left and once you were far away from the house went to take it back only for her to hold on tighter.

"You never know where they could be lurking." She joked as an excuse, so you starting swinging your arms playfully as to assure her you wanted your hands to stay linked together too.

You spent hours in those woods and was thankful for having a spy best friend who of course knew to pack the essentials like food and drinks so you could stay away from the house as long as you wanted.

The redhead brought so much you were able to have a small picnic on top of a hill that overlooked the large lake that stretched out all the way back to the house. You remembered thinking up stories as to explain the strange shape and curves to it as a child.

"It's beautiful here." Wanda said as she picked some grapes from the bunch between you.

"It is." You agreed with a fond smile.

"I used to want to live in a place like this." She muttered, sparking your interest.

"In the woods?" You asked curiously and she nodded.

"I thought I could retire to the woods and get a small cabin and I could grow my own food and that was all I needed." You hummed with a smile as you studied Wanda's features.

"Sounds lonely." You thought aloud.

"I'd have a cat." She said simply making you laugh. "I never used to think that but now when it crosses my mind and I picture that life... I picture someone else there with me." You knew she was imagining it as she spoke and you wished you could see exactly what it was she wanted.

"We could always downgrade the holiday house." You half joked as you nodded in the vague direction of the house. "Make it a simple cabin."

"We?" Wanda asked hopefully, the emotion clear before she had a chance to conceal it.

"There's no one I'd rather run away and live in the forest with." You joked although there was a lot of truth to your words. The redhead considered you for a while before smiling and nodded as though she had reached her own internal conclusion.

"Come on." You said suddenly as you stood up and dusted yourself off.

"You want to go back?" Wanda asked and you grinned.

"I'm going to show you that surprise." You declared and packed the remaining food away. Wanda did the same, eager to see the surprise you kept secret the whole way.

It was quite a way back to the house. The whole time Wanda kept asking more questions about it but you wouldn't say. She could only make guesses based on the swim wear which should have left only a few options, non of which she got right.

Finally, you arrived where you wanted to and grinned at Wabda before starting towards the edge. The redhead frowned as she watched you approach the ledge and became worried when she invisioned the steep slope that didn't always lead to water straight down. If you were to fall... your friend didn't have to wait long to see that. You slipped along the edge and disappeared from her view as she gave a startled cry and sprinted towards the edge and knelt over with wide eyes, expecting to see something that could haunt her forever but instead she saw you on a wide ledge but seven feet below her.

To your left was part of the ledge that had been dug into randomly and acted as perfect aid to get back into the woods above.

"Come down here." You beckoned as you starter to take your top off. Wanda's eyes widened more and quickly turned around and dropped down next to you steadily.

She glanced over the side of the small ledge to glance at the fifty foot drop into the water. There was nothing in the way to fall onto but there was no telling how deep that water was.

"You can't go in like that." You laughed as you kicked off your shorts and pushed them to the side.

Wanda's face heated up at the sight of you in your y/f/c bikini as you assessed the view. But even in her flustered state she was able to put it all together.

"You want to jump down there?" She exclaimed making you laugh.

"I've done it tones of times." You assured. "It's fun."

"It's a death wish! What if the waters not deep enough?" She questioned making you laugh more.

"Are you scared, Wan?" You teased as you took a step towards her making her avert her eyes from your form. She scoffed to play it off.

"Of course not." You hummed in faux belief.

"Well then I'll see you down there." You grinned and took a couple of steps back until your feet were no longer on the platform and you were plummeting down towards the water where you landed with a splash.

Wanda held her breath as she waited for you to resurface for a few agonising seconds. When you did with a gasp and started kicking around frantically to keep yourself afloat with your built up adrenaline the redhead sighed in relief and started taking off her own shorts and shirt and placed them next to your things.

You've jumped from higher. She told herself as she rocked on her feet. And you have powers! She argued back before she shoved those thoughts aside and threw herself off the ledge and into the water below. You laughed as she came back up and pushed her hair away from her way. You swam closer to her and saw her wide smile.

"Fuck." Wanda whispered with a laugh as she looked back up from where you had both come.

"Told you it was fun." You teased as you tried not to focus on the low cut on her bikini bra.

"Yeah yeah." She laughed and paused when she looked past you and saw you were surprisingly close to the house. She could see the outline of your family sat outside.

"They're looking." Wanda muttered. You could tell by the look on her face who she was talking about. It wasn't like there was anyone else around either.

"Do you think they've caught on?" You asked nervously as you stared at Wanda's brown eyes to stop you looking at your family.

"Maybe..." She considered and glanced around. "It's not like we've been acting like that much of a couple." You scoffed at that.

"At home everyone assumes we're dating and the one time we need it be believable it isn't." You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile.

"I know." Wanda laughed for a second but then paused. "Then let's give them something believable." She gently placed both her hands on your waist and pulled you slowly towards her. You let her guide you and took extra notice of the water droplets across her face. You almost trembled when your bare stomachs pressed together in the water lightly.

Wanda's soft hands left your waist and gripped your thighs to pull you up to wrap your legs around her own waist. You couldn't help but giggle at the gesture as you wrapped your arms around the redhead's neck and held onto her waist with your legs in a lock.

"Can I?" Wanda whispered when she lifted your chin with her finger and her other hand came round the back of your neck.

"Just shut up and kiss me." You demanded with a playful smile and leaned in to do it yourself.

You smiled into the kiss and felt Wanda do the same. It was everything you had ever imagined it to be. Her lips were soft and fell into place perfectly against your own as they moved together. Your mind was hazey and your stomach was doing flips at the realisation that you were actually kissing your long time crush. You forced yourself to remember that it was all a show. That Wanda didn't mean it. But she put on a believable act and kissed passionately, even slipping her tongue through your parter lips to explore your mouth further.

When she eventually pulled away you rested your foreheads together to catch your breath and grinned as you closed your eyes.

"You're a really good kisser." You blurted out making Wanda chuckle.

"Not too bad yourself." She teased.

"I hope not, we're gonna have to do that again." You smiled and instantly realized that sounded like a confession you desperetly wished you could claim. "You know because...Once probably wasn't enough to make it entirely believable." You rambled and Wanda nodded somewhat stiffly and let your legs drop back down. You wanted to say something to her, anything but it was all stuck on the tip of your tongue.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a small murmurarion of starlings flew across the lake, some of them skimming the water then gaining height again as they got closer to you and Wanda. You both ducked instinctively as they flew over your heads and off towards the forest again as you watched them in awe until they disappeared. You glanced up at the sky and noticed the sun had gone behind a cloud, ableing you to continue looking up at the other birds higher up.

You kicked your legs up slightly so you could lay on your back and outstretch your arms to keep you afloat in the water so you could stare up at the sky without hurting your neck.

You didn't realise Wanda mimicked you until her hands brushed against yours. She withdrew it as soon as you touched and went to murmmer an apology but you smiled and held onto her hand as you both lay watching the birds.

Neither of you had to say anything. It was a comfortable and peaceful silence that was occasionally filled with birds chirping or the sound of a calm breeze. Of all the things you expected to feel on that trip, relaxed was not one of them.

You stayed like that for a while until you were both snapped out of your daydreams by the distant yell that declared dinner. Well, you had to go back to them eventually.

Both of you took your time swimming back to dry land and only felt a shiver when you left the water and the breeze hit you. Wanda spotted and reached the towels before you and wrapped yours around you tightly. You thanked her with a small blush as you both sauntered up to the house where the mouthwatering smell of a barbecue greeted you. Your dad was leaning over it while shooing your brother away as he tried to offer his 'help'.

You and Wanda went inside to change swiftly and came back outside as the food was being placed on plates and your mum finished setting up the buffet. Everyone starter helping themselves and you piled as much food as you could onto the plate. You parents had asked what food Wanda liked and when you gave them a brief list you added in a few things you knew you both loved.

"You gonna eat all that?" Anna asked as she eyed all the food on your plate. Guilt and insecurities washed over you until Wanda purposefully grabbed a large handful of small sausage rolls and put them on her plate that was piled with a considerable amount more food than your own. You smiled at the reassuring gesture as she sat down with a satisfied grin on her face when she saw Anna close her mouth to stay quiet.

"Thanks." You whispered to her as you sat down.

"If you don't eat all that I will." She declared. You were pretty sure she went back for seconds.

Instead of disappearing back to your room like you did the previous nights, you and Wanda stayed with your family for a while after dinner. It wasn't to do with their company, more the mesmerising fire in the firepit you all sat around. You were cuddled up into Wanda's side with a blanket over both of you as you stared at the flames, smiling at their small flickers and dances.

"So Wanda," one of your sisters began, "are any of the other Avengers...you know." She nodded her head in the direction of you both.

Oh boy you though.

"I don't think it's my place to say." Wanda said because yes, a lot of the Avengers were queer.

"Oh come on, you can tell us." Anna encouraged as she sat forward eagerly.

"I could, but I'm not going to." Wanda continued to defy.

"Lay off it guys." You mumbled but was ignored. Your family took it in turns saying her teammates names in hopes of sparking a reaction, clearly forgetting they were facing someone who had been trained by Natasha Romanoff.

"Stark!" Claire said but was instantly shut down by the others.

"He's married!" Dalton objected.

"Could still be bi though." Claire tried but Dalton just scoffed.

"I suppose there's going to be more surprises."

"What does that mean?" Wanda asked with narrowed eyes, feeling protective of her teammates. Dalton met her gaze with his own challenging one.

"I just never thought one of the Avengers would be a dyke." You felt Wanda stiffen as you all held your breath. There was no way to tell what was going through the redhead's mind, especially as after all those years of friendship you still didn't even know what team she batted for. She was an ally at least, but would she see this as her battle to fight?

Upon getting no reaction, Dalton continued. "It makes sense why you'd hang out with y/n though, we always knew something was wrong with her but-"

"That's enough." Your mum snapped with a guilty expression she failed to mask. You swallowed hard and moved to get up, deciding you had heard enough.

"Then you're idiots." Wanda stated as she glared daggers at your brother while you sunk down.

"I'll have you know I have a doctorate-"

"Your idiots." She repeated. "There's nothing wrong with y/n, which is impressive considering she's grown up around you lot." You looked at your friend in awe as she continued.

"She's the most amazing person I've ever known, including any of the Avengers. She's everything that you're not and I'm lucky to call her my girlfriend. It doesn't matter what any of you think of her, I love her and I always will." She declared as shot daggers at each individual family member who had fallen silent. She took your hand and pulled you up from your seat to take you inside.

You couldn't get her saying she loved you out of your head. You reminded yourself over and over again on the way to your room that it was just an act. That the redhead was making her point. But God, how you wished it was real.

She was so gentle with you as she guided you through the house. When you got to your room and broke down sobbing she held you on the bed for a long time until your cries turned to sniffles. The thing was, you weren't sure what you were crying over. Sure, what Dalton had said had hurt. As did the confirmation that your whole family had always looked down on you. But you had known that was the case for a long time, you had moved on from it.

Instead, you may have being crying over what you didn't know and didn't have. How much of what Wanda said was true? It was all based off of something that wasn't real. What if she saw you the same way your family did?

When you stopped crying you became aware of Wanda gently stroking your hair as she rested her head on yours and held you close to her. You remembered the memories you had accumulated over the past few days with her. The kisses, the hand holding, the nights together, how she stood up for you like no one ever had. You loved her so much.

"I think we should go tomorrow." Wanda mumbled and you nodded into her shoulder.

"I'm not going to leave you though, you know that right? You can stay at mine and we'll watch more of those crappy American movies you like." She mocked lightly making you chuckle against her. "Whatever you want."

"I just want you." You said honestly. You knew you shouldn't have said that, but you were too emotionally drained to care.

"I just want you too, y/n." You pulled away from the redhead to look at her clearly.

"I don't think you know what I mean." You sniffed and she smiled at you fondly.

"I mean what I said earlier, around the fire." Your eyes widened slightly and you held your breath.

"It was all an act though." You whispered and Wanda chuckled as she exhaled sharply.

"No y/n." "I think I am inlove with you." She said as she took ahold of your hand and searched your face for any signs of a reaction to her confession.

"Me?" You questioned, not quite believing it.

"Yes you, idiot." You smiled and sighed in relief, not being able to find the words to express your overflowing happiness and numerous other emotions you couldn't quite pinpoint. You let go of Wanda's hand and brought them both up to cup her cheeks. You had done a lot more handholding than kissing in the previous few days. It needed to be evened out.

You closed the gap between you and kissed Wanda with just as much passion as you had in the lake, except all hesitation and questions were gone. Because you knew she loved you. Oh God she loved you. You grinned into the kiss at the thought and felt her hand fall to your hip while the other caressed the side of your neck in the most gentle manner you had ever seen from her.

When you eventually pulled away you rested your forehead against hers, a smile still playing on both your lips.

"Told you we'd have to do that again." You said and and laughed. "I love you too."

"Well I hoped that wasn't a pity kiss." She joked and you smacked her arm playfully.

"It definetly was not and I'll prove it to you by taking you on a date when we get back." You promised as you sat back to look at her clearly.

"Oh yeah?" She asked with a playful smirk and leaned over so her face was inches away from yours.

"Yeah." You said back.

"Well until then, my real girlfriend should definetly just keep kissing me." She said as she pushed you down gently and kissed you again. You smiled against her gleefully.

"Your girlfriend would love to."

[loqov]

Maybe Baby

Modern AU

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: Slight Angst, Fluff.

Summary: After years of friendship, some things slip out here and there.

Italics: Character’s thoughts

Bolded italics: Flashback/Memory

You had never even thought this could ever happen, not in your sixteen years of friendship. Your body was not trained to deal with this type of thing.

This high of a level, and it was boss level.

Or maybe it was all in your head? Just overthinking? Reading too much into something that could have been easily explained?

But explained how? What exactly would be the explanation? That was the hard part to figure out.

It would be easier to have an answer on how wrong you were with your assumption. Maybe you went with it because that was what you really wanted.

Who would not want it tho? A dumbass would not.

And you were not one of those. At least, you hoped so.

What if you were tho? There was no way she had meant it like that. She could not have.

And after all these years? She surely would have said something sooner if it were real.

But how else were you supposed to take it?

You had been spiraling, pulling a lever to spin your thoughts even more than they already were, and they had been rolling through your head for the last hour.

Maybe two?

You were not sure how much time had passed with your ass glued to the bar stool and eyes to the spot on the quartz kitchen island.

The words kept ringing in your head, only adding more to the insanity.

“I’ll see you later, baby.”

Baby.

She had never called you baby. Not like that.

Babe? Sure, you had been best friends for over a decade.

But baby? In that tone? No.

She had been rushing to work, the kids had still been getting ready and had to be dropped off at school.

The morning had been completely crazy. A new client had called her at 6 am, demanding an emergency meeting. She’d barely had time to eat the breakfast you’d made for her in the short time you had been given.

Maybe it had all been the adrenaline, the stress, the time-sensitive case.

It could’ve just slipped out.

Accidentally.

Probably.

Mmm…unlikely.

Nodding to yourself, your brain started calming down the storm that was running through it.

Just a small accident.

She was not one to do things by accident.

For sure.

Not at all.

Turning on the stool, it was time to stare at the fridge as your hand ran through your hair.

“Fuck me.”

Fishing out your phone from the pocket, it almost fell out of your hands as you anxiously typed in the password when the facial recognition did not want to recognize you.

“Stupid shit.” Angrily mumbling to yourself and scrambling to find the contact you needed, your fingers clicked on letters in an attempt to send a coherent message.

A cry for help more like.

You could definitely cry depending on the outcome of this ordeal.

In the end, you knew there were two options.

You would either have to move out or die.

Or both.

“So, what does it mean?” You could not stop pacing back and forth, your hand tapping against the top of the chair. “She loves me? She hates me?” Your eyes were wide as crazy thoughts were spilling from your mouth. “She is joking around? Maybe making fun of me?”

So many questions and so few answers. You needed answers.

“Just sit down, okay?” Your friend was slowly sipping on a drink while your little breakdown was still in motion.

He had seen this a million times before. Had it been a job interview, a new crush, or your new boss calling you in to the office.

Bucky had mastered the art of your spirals. The first time, he had fallen into the loop of insanity along with you when he'd had no idea what to do.

You both had ended up sitting in a corner of your room, eating ice cream while staring at nothing.

But it had been in high school, he had more knowledge now. He knew exactly how this process would go.

“Sit down?! Are you mad?” Your eyebrows were pulled together as you looked at him like he was crazy. “Fine, yeah, could be good.”

The mood swings were nothing new either. He could only shrug his shoulders when you took a seat next to him. Your fingers began anxiously tapping all over the glass as your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth.

Bucky was observing you from the corner of his eye, trying to determine what level of emergency it was this time.

“Okay, okay.” He assumed a high one when the blood started coming out of your lip from how hard you were chewing on it. “What happened? You were just rambling, I could barely understand a word—”

“She called me baby.” You burst quickly, turning your head to face him before going back to staring at the glass.

“Who?” He could not be this dense.

“Wanda!” You yelled out in a cry. “Oh, God.” It was time for fear, rejection, and fear of rejection play with your head as you started about the million ways she could crush your heart as soon as she would come back home.

“Listen, you need to take a few breaths—”

“That’s what she always says too.” Your face scrunched up in agony before shielding it with your arms.

Bucky’s eyes rolled at your antics, his lips pressing in a thin line before he put his hand on your shoulder. “She is your best friend, right?”

A quick nod of your head was the only answer he got. There was nothing more he could get out of you at this early stage of your self-sabotage.

“You had lived together for the last eleven years and it has been great, right?” Another nod of confirmation. “She loves you, you’ve been helping her with the kids before they were even born.”

The snort that escaped you was impossible to keep in.

You knew she loved you. As a friend. You had never doubted that.

Ever since you had met in high school, you had been attached to each other’s hip. She’d always been the most precious human in your life. You’d always done everything to keep her safe and help her.

Something as easy as homework? No problem.

Sneaking out when her parents would say no? Of course, even if you had felt guilty after for going behind their backs.

They had always been nice to you and treated you like their own.

It did not matter what it was, you would always be there for her.

But there was one bad time.

Vision.

You hated that name.

Your hand tightened around the glass as you clenched your jaw in anger at the memory.

She had been dating him for a few months, gushing all the time about how amazing he’d been.

And then, she had gotten pregnant.

Even though you had warned her about him multiple times.

He had been an asshole. You could bet your entire arm he still was.

But she would not have stopped defending him and calling you ‘overprotective’.

It had been one bad argument.

Long story short, he had not wanted anything to do with the child. So, there you had been, taking care of your pregnant friend just to move in together and make it easier for both of you.

Just to find out there were two.

And it had been ten years since they’d been born. Wanda and the twins still were living in the house you had bought a few years ago.

“What do you want the answer to be?”

Bucky’s question caught you off guard, making your head whip to him with a confused look.

“Huh?”

“If you ask her what she meant by it, what do you want the answer to be?” His eyes were focused on you.

And you were losing your focus.

What did you want it to be?

Did you want her to want you?

Of course, you did.

You had never given much thought to being together. But now that the possibility was peeking through?

You wanted it more than anything.

However, could you ever be more than friends after so many years? What if it ruined everything?

You loved the boys like your own, it would be impossible to survive if you never got to see them again.

“Y/n?” Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I—” Your eyes were stinging as you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly. “I’ve always loved her, but—” The words died in your mouth, your face scrunching as you had no idea what to think.

“But?” Bucky kept pressing the matter.

“Everything’s always been easy with her.” Your lost eyes looked at him like he would have an answer. “But how do I know I won’t ruin it?”

And maybe he did.

His smile looked like he did.

“Well, you two fell into a domestic life pretty easily.” He lightly tapped your shoulder. “Maybe it’s the familiarity of it.” He shrugged his shoulders before taking a sip of his drink and puckering his lips. “Or maybe it’s always been easy with her because she’s your person.”

Your head tilted in thought.

My person?

He gave you a look like the case was solved, like you just had to think a little bit more with your little brain before getting it.

Well, you still had an entire day ahead of you for that.

And you would think about it more than needed for sure.

It had been the most exhausting day of your entire existence. Not only had you had a rough morning, but work could not have gone worse as well.

Your boss had not been too happy with the recent choices you had made for one of the clients.

It was his lucky day that you had been in your head for hours, otherwise, you would not be able to contain your anger.

You had done exactly what the clients had asked for. Nothing more, nothing less. Not without their approval.

You had barely done any work as the only thing you could have done was thinking over and over again about Wanda’s words.

“—baby.”

The rest of the sentence was gone, only one word haunting you even on your way back home. Even as you picked up the kids from their friend’s house.

They had talked enthusiastically about what had happened at school, how they’d been on the same basketball team during the PE class and destroyed the other one.

Their math tests had been graded and they’d both aced them. Obviously. They had always aced them.

Their mother had always been more excited about history class than anything else, but she would be proud of every grade they’d gotten.

Just like you.

“And then Ms. Altwell said our project was spectacular!” Billy yelled out in happiness, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“And Kyle’s volcano did not go off! I knew it wouldn’t.” Tommy’s cheeky smirk almost made you laugh as you tried to keep up with all of their stories.

Everything had been mentally exhausting, but you did your best to make them feel heard.

You would not let your own problems get in the way of being there for them.

“I know, you were right!” You told Tommy. “And good job, you both nailed it!” Their small hands reached up before smashing with yours in high fives. “What do you want to eat?”

They put their backpacks away before going to the kitchen, you following behind. “Can we have ice cream?” Tommy asked in a sweet voice as both boys took a seat at the kitchen island.

“Ice cream?” Your eyebrow raised.

They knew better than that.

Just as you were about to answer, your phone vibrated in your pocket, making you take it out.

The smile you had slowly started vanishing when you read the message.

Won’t make it before dinner, I need to stay late.

You read it five times in your head, letting your dark thoughts take over again.

“What about waffles?” Billy’s suggestion broke you out of your trance, causing you to blink rapidly in confusion.

You forgot what they were talking about already.

“What about spaghetti?” Your lips puckered, fingers drumming against the quartz surface as you waited for their answer.

Doing their twin stare, they looked at each other with squinted eyes before slowly turning their heads to you.

“Mom is not coming, is she?”

They were getting way too sly lately.

“And why would that be?” Trying not to let them get the upper hand, you counter-asked.

“Because you never propose spaghetti over pizza unless she’s not coming.” They were too smart and too observant for their age.

You were impressed, but also in shit because you knew they would try to get their way. And it could work. You were not as unflinching as Wanda.

“So, what if we have waffles and then we can also have ice cream with waffles.” Tommy began, the smirk back on his face as he already looked like he won. “It’s the only right way to eat them.”

You could not give up. You would not.

You knew Wanda would not like it.

And it was not the time to do anything that would anger her to any extent.

“Spaghetti it is.” Clasping your hands together, you quickly turned around to get the pot as unhappy groans sounded from behind you.

Now, you only had to gather enough courage to have another difficult conversation with someone else.

But not tonight.

You were not sure how you felt about her staying late.

Did she actually have more work or maybe she was just scared because of what she called you?

You had no idea what could be going through her head.

Maybe it was not serious at all and you were making it a huge deal for nothing.

But not knowing was eating you alive.

“What do you want the answer to be?”

Bucky knew very well what you wanted it to be.

You just had to say it to yourself.

Nobody but her could make you feel like yourself.

”I fucked up! I so fucked up, Nat!” The panicked ramble was so loud that the redheaded woman had to cover her ears to protect her eardrums from bursting.

It’d been so long she was not sure how much time had passed ever since the brunette woman had barged into her office with terror all over her features.

Wide eyes that looked like they were about to cry a waterfall at any moment with shaking hands running repeatedly through the brunette hair.

She was frantic.

She looked like a wild animal.

“Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? Say ‘love you’ like always and just leave?” She was pacing around the room, scolding herself with an angry face while throwing her arms in every possible direction.

You did not know it, but she had almost died when the word had slipped out of her mouth. If it had not been for the fact she'd been rushing out of the house, she would’ve actually died on the spot.

She had been lucky to turn around and disappear behind the wall when the word had already gotten out to the world.

Her face had become completely pale and she did not even remember how she had gotten to school and then to work.

Everything had been a big blur since she had run out the door.

She’d been trying to bury herself in work the whole day just to avoid facing the problem that was unavoidable.

The problem she had created by not keeping quiet and not sticking to the routine.

She hadn’t even been able to risk a second just to see your reaction. She had no idea if you had even heard what she’d said.

She hoped not.

A part of her did.

Another part would give everything to make you finally notice.

It’d been a war in her head ever since she’d realized her love for you hadn’t been only platonic. She was still not sure when exactly it had changed.

But she did not care about when or how. She loved you and wanted you so badly. She’d been hiding it from you for long enough now.

Maybe it was the universe forcing her to finally take action.

Or maybe the universe wanted her to fail and be miserable without you by her side.

“They will leave me.” Her blank eyes stared at the floor as she anxiously chewed on her nails.

A huff-like chuckle escaped her mouth and Natasha immediately looked at her in fear that the woman would start crying.

“Okay, you need to stop there.” The redhead was serious as she pointed an accusing finger at her friend. “They will not leave you.” She tried her best to prevent the river from spilling. She could not deal with tears today.

“But—”

“No buts, Wanda, they love you. They have been raising kids with you for the last eleven years.” Natasha tried to reason and put some sense into the Sokovian.

She was overthinking the situation, making it look like a horror scene in her head.

It was only you.

Nothing scary.

Besides the fact that you could literally hate her for wanting you and never speak to her again.

The tears brimmed in her eyes at the thought as she stared at her redheaded friend, her chin scrunching with the bottom lip curling inwards.

“No! Wanda, no.” Natasha quickly got up from her seat before rounding the desk and coming up to the woman. “You need to talk to them. It’s been four years since I found out and who knows how long you have felt like this.”

The Sokovian knew her friend was right.

She needed to talk to you.

But what if you hadn’t heard the pet name? What if she would start the conversation just to be completely humiliated and rejected?

And boys? They would not survive if you two drifted apart.

“Do you think anyone would be running around like a madman to cater to their pregnant friend? And then move in together for, so far, eleven years? Just to raise their friend’s kids?”

Wanda’s head tilted, debating how possible it could be for that to happen purely from friendship.

“No one, Wanda.” Natasha answered for her when the other woman was taking too long to get the obvious answer. “They probably don’t realize themselves. Just like you didn’t know until something struck you.”

The Russian’s hands went to Wanda’s arms, rubbing them in a comforting way.

Could she be right?

Wanda wanted her to be right.

It would make everything so much easier.

It would finally put an end to her acting, to pretending like she was fine with just the friendship.

She wanted your touch, your body against hers. She wanted your lips whenever she felt like it. Not only imagining those things in her head.

“Okay, yeah.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I will talk to them. I can do it.” Giving herself a pep talk, she started feeling a little bit better.

The world was not crumbling underneath her feet anymore.

Natasha’s proud face scrunched up in thought a second later. “Shouldn’t you be home now?” Her eyes went to the watch around her wrist, seeing how late it was.

“Oh.” Wanda chuckled, waving her hand dismissively as if nothing happened. “I told them I had work and had to stay late.” She kept staring at the redhead with a smile, blissfully unaware of the consequences.

Until Natasha’s eyes widened in shock and panic. The Sokovian looked at her confused before she mimicking her expression.

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.” The Russian said quickly. “If they heard you today, they are probably losing their mind right now.”

You probably were.

Fuck.

“I have to go.”

You’d been asleep by the time Wanda had come back home. It’d been a rough battle between your thoughts and tired eyes which had eventually been resolved when the darkness had taken over.

You were making breakfast in the kitchen for everyone while they were still in their beds.

Last time you had checked on the boys, their little mouths had been drooling all over their pillows.

It was too frightening to open Wanda’s bedroom door. You did not know what you were so scared of seeing there, but it was easier to walk past it and to the garage.

Her car was there, so you knew she was here too.

You still had bed hair. Normally, you would not get up so early. 6 am was only for emergencies, but here you were, mixing the waffle batter and trying to make any sense of yesterday.

There was no point in plaguing your mind with horrible thoughts anymore.

You needed to talk to her regardless of the outcome.

You needed to know what to do next.

“Hi.” Your head whipped around in shock upon hearing a small voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her pure face, her innocent laugh—you were already melting on the spot.

“You didn’t!” A quick and quite loud response came from you before you remembered the boys were still sleeping. Your eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing up so early?”

Grabbing the bowl and placing it on the kitchen island, you stood facing the brunette you’d had a breakdown about just yesterday.

“I could ask the same.” Your gaze dropped to her hands when you saw them grasping for the sleeves.

She was slowly walking farther into the kitchen before stopping at the corner of the island.

The silence completely took over and it was killing you. You wanted to say something, your head battling you once again.

The pep talk was not helping too, no boost of confidence could help now that she was right in front of you.

Your eyes dropped to the bowl as you kept mixing. Poking out your tongue, you ran it over your lips before biting the bottom one.

“Listen, Wanda—” You began, looking up and at her just to catch her eyes below the line of yours. Her mouth parted as her vision seemed blank. “Yesterday—”

“I love you!”

The quick words hit you like a ton of bricks before an entire truck would add to the damage.

“I—” Her face instantly became anxious, her hands playing with the material of her long-sleeve again, eyes darting all over the room. “I was so scared you would hate me and leave me.” Her chin scrunched and the whisker fell out of your hand at the sight. “And the boys, and I just—” She looked panicked as she ran her fingers through her hair.

She kept rambling about everything and nothing while you could only stare.

In shock.

In surprise.

In confusion.

And happiness.

She loves me.

Your lips were slowly curling into a smile as it was impossible for you to take your eyes away from her.

“—and then it slipped out yesterday, I thought the ground would swallow me, it was terrifying.” Her chuckle barely sounded amused. “But—” She swallowed thickly, finally meeting your gaze.

Her eyes, you loved those eyes.

You could look into them forever.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore.” Her expression changed to determined, but you could see anxiety was running through it as well. “I love you.” The way it sounded from her was music to your ears. You wanted to put it on replay. “And it’s okay, if you don’t—”

“Wanda.” She immediately went quiet when she heard your voice. Her fearful eyes stared into yours with hope. “I won’t lie, yesterday, it caught me off guard.” Wetting your lips, you glanced down at the bowl. “And I freaked out.” You laughed dryly, meeting her eyes again.

Just in time to see the despair pushing through on her features.

You were about to make her day better very quickly.

“And I realized, after a long spiral, that—” That you could not imagine your life with anyone else. That what you were looking at now was the only thing you wanted to keep looking at for the rest of your days. “That you are my person.”

A choked cry sounded in the room before her hand went up to her mouth. “I—”

“I love you too.” You quickly cut her off. “And it’s taken me way too long to figure it out.” You both chuckled with tears brimming in your eyes. “But I do.” Stepping away from the island, you rounded it and went up to the Sokovian. “And if you’ll have me—”

“Yes!” She almost yelled out, her mouth opening widely in a smile as she stared at you with glossy eyes. “Yes, I will.” Her hands grasped onto your shoulders before cupping your face like she wanted to make sure you were real.

You couldn't help the stupid grin.

All those horror stories your brain had played in your head yesterday were for nothing.

The dread, the fear of rejection.

It was all unimportant right now.

She loved you.

“I guess I should take you out on a date first.” The words made her laugh, her hands sprawling on your face as she moved them to cup your jaw.

“I’ll make an exception just this once.” Your entire body felt like on fire when she kept looking at you like this.

You felt like a teenager again with her lips so close to yours, making a million things run through your body.

And when they finally connected, it was like fireworks erupted in you. The softness of her lips surprised you and your hands went to grab her waist, causing her to gasp at the feeling.

It had felt like nothing before. The way her lips fit with yours could not be better. The way her body would press against you could send shivers down your spine.

The way her touch could awaken all of your dirty feelings and thoughts was driving you crazy.

Every fiber in you was screaming for more.

And your blood was boiling hot.

None of you wanted it to stop as your heads turned, switching sides. It stayed gentle and calm, but full of desire.

You could feel it by the way her palms were holding onto your face.

But eventually, you had to pull away when the air became the problem. Your foreheads connecting as grins on your faces were impossible to be wiped off.

That was how it felt to be loved.

To have your soulmate.

“Now, I finally get to do this every day.” Her teeth trapped her bottom lip in a seductive way, making your cheeks heat up.

It was nothing new to you how confident of a person she was once her fears were gone.

“I bet you can’t wait.” The tough act was not really working when her hands slid down your front, her head tilting up slightly.

“Oh, you’ll see how long I’ve waited.”

She sent you a wink before stepping away and leaving you completely frozen and hot in your spot.

She was already so bold.

You were not sure if you were excited or terrified of what she could do.

But you knew one thing.

It all would be worth it.

[fandomnerd9602]

Parent Trap

Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Wanda always had you. Her best friend. In truth, you secretly carried a torch for her. But she loved Vision, your friend and fellow Avenger.

That love led to marriage and two little boys in a baby carriage. Sadly, Vision passed in battle not long after Billy and Tommy were born. But Wanda always had you.

And as the little boys grew, they knew you as part of their family. You made sure they always knew of Vision, you’d tell them stories of you, Wanda and Vision in battle.

Wanda always found her heart fluttering as she saw you interacting with the boys. But she felt it wouldn’t be possible. You had slowly worked your way deeper into her heart. But could she be allowed to? What would the boys think of that?

One day when the boys were four years old, they found themselves talking together.

“I want (Y/N) as daddy” Billy said softly.

“We should tell momma” Tommy said in agreement.

“She smiles around him”

“Yeah. And he gives the best hugs”

That night, you were cooking in Wanda’s little kitchenette while she was playing with the twins.

“Boys, your birthday is coming up soon.” Wanda said softly, “what do my little detkas want for your birthday?”

Billy spoke up immediately, “I want (Y/N) for my daddy”

Wanda froze. You froze. Did you really just hear that?

“I-umm…” Wanda tries to formulate what to say, the young mother was a practical blushing mess.

“What your mother is trying to say is…” you step in, “I will always be here for you, boys. And it’s because I love you both so much.”

“Yeah,” Tommy speaks up, “but we want you to stay”

Wanda looks at you, blushing. You and her would definitely have a talk about this later.

That night, you put the boys to bed and told them of how Wanda met their father. Deep down, a long dormant part of you, wished that these two wonderful boys were yours. But at the same time, you were theirs. And that was all you needed.

You walked down stairs to find Wanda pacing nervously.

“I-I’m so sorry about that” she laughs softly

“No no it’s fine” you reassure her, gently rubbing her arms, “I’m honored”

“Really?”

“Wanda I love your boys.” You give her a soft smile.

She finds herself leaning into your touch, “I-i never allowed myself to really feel this way after Vis passed…but—“

Wanda tried to think thru her words. “But I can’t ignore how I feel when I’m around you anymore, (Y/N)”

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest.

“I’m in love with you (Y/N)” she found herself giggling as tears rolled down her cheek.

“I’m in love with you too, Wanda” you whispered back softly.

“A couple fools we are, huh?”

“Very much.”

The two of you shared a little laugh before sharing a gentle kiss. The mere touch of her lips sent jolts of electricity through your body.

You and Wanda found yourselves in your own little world. Both of you were unaware of the fact that the boys had snuck downstairs and watched the whole scene.

Little Billy and Tommy were practically ecstatic. Their little minds were already thinking of the next thing they wanted - a little sister.

[ilovemarvel97]

Rumors

My Life With You Series

Elizabeth Olsen x G!P Singer Reader

Summary: Lizzie has been anxious with people finding out about her pregnancy.

Word Count: 7,338

Warning: Fluff, Little Angst, Mention of Smut, Reader has a P.

A/N: With Lizzie’s new picture, I needed to write this one!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

---

---

“—there! Did you feel that one?!”

Lizzie’s voice was bright and breathless, a mix of surprise and excitement as she grabbed Y/N’s wrist and pressed her hand firmly against her stomach.

Elizabeth Olsen was practically glowing—hair messy, one of Y/N’s oversized shirts draped over her frame, the fabric barely disguising the curve that had become impossible to ignore.

Y/N barely had time to react before—

A kick. Strong. Clear.

Her eyes widened instantly. “…Oh—wow.”

“I told you!” Lizzie laughed, her whole face lighting up. “They’ve been doing that all morning.”

Y/N didn’t pull her hand away. If anything, she pressed closer, her palm spreading over Lizzie’s stomach like she was trying to memorize the exact spot.

Another kick followed, lighter this time.

Y/N let out a quiet huff of amusement. “Okay, that one’s got attitude.”

“Oh?” Lizzie tilted her head, amused. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

“It means,” Y/N said, lowering herself slightly, her voice softening, “one of them is definitely going to keep us up at night.”

Lizzie snorted. “One of them?”

Y/N grinned faintly. “Okay, fine. Both.”

Another small movement shifted under her hand, and this time Y/N didn’t just feel it—she leaned in. Slowly. Carefully. Her lips brushed against Lizzie’s stomach through the thin fabric.

A soft kiss.

Lizzie went still.

Y/N lingered there for a moment before pressing another kiss, softer this time, more deliberate. “Hi, babies…” she murmured against her skin.

The response was almost immediate—a small, distinct kick.

Y/N pulled back just enough to laugh under her breath. “Yeah, okay. Message received.”

Lizzie’s fingers slid into her hair, gentle and grounding. “I think they like you.”

“I would hope so,” Y/N teased quietly, pressing one last kiss before resting her forehead there instead.

For a moment, neither of them spoke—just feeling, living in it.

---

A few minutes later, Lizzie shifted slightly on the couch, adjusting until she was more comfortable, one hand still resting protectively over her stomach.

“…Can you make tea?” she asked softly.

Y/N looked up immediately. “Of course.”

Lizzie smiled, small but warm. “Thank you.”

Y/N leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips—soft, familiar—before standing. “I’ll be right back.”

Lizzie watched her disappear into the kitchen, the sound of cabinets opening and the kettle being filled quickly following. For a second, everything felt… normal. Quiet. Safe.

Then—

Her phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Three times.

Lizzie frowned slightly, reaching over to grab it from the table. The screen lit up—notifications, mentions, articles. Her thumb hesitated… then tapped.

And there it was.

Photos from the Avengers: Infinity War press tour. Zoomed in. Analyzed. Circled.

“Is Elizabeth Olsen Pregnant?”

“Hidden Bump? Internet Thinks So”

“Loose Clothing Sparks Rumors”

Lizzie’s stomach dropped.

Her free hand instinctively moved over the curve of her belly, protective.

They had been careful. So careful. Baggy clothes. Angles. Timing. She thought they had more time.

Another notification popped up. And another.

Her jaw tightened slightly as she locked her phone, exhaling slowly. “…Okay,” she whispered to herself.

From the kitchen, Y/N’s voice drifted in, casual, unaware. “Chamomile or green?”

Lizzie blinked, the tension softening just a little at the sound of her. “…Chamomile,” she called back.

“Got it.”

The kettle clicked on. Water began to heat.

Lizzie looked down at her stomach again, her expression shifting—still worried, but softer now. Her hand rubbed gently over where the kicks had been.

“They’re figuring it out,” she murmured quietly.

Another small movement answered her.

Lizzie let out a shaky breath, a faint smile breaking through anyway. “…Yeah. I know.”

Footsteps approached.

Y/N appeared a moment later, carefully balancing two mugs, steam curling softly into the air. “Chamomile for you—”

She stopped mid-step.

“…Hey,” she said quietly.

Lizzie hadn’t realized her expression had given her away—but of course it had. It always did, with Y/N.

Y/N set one mug into Lizzie’s hands anyway, guiding her fingers around the warmth before placing the other on the table. She didn’t sit yet. She stayed right there, eyes searching her face.

“What’s wrong?”

Lizzie hesitated.

Then her lip wobbled—just slightly.

“They’re talking again,” she admitted softly. “Online… articles, comments… people trying to figure out if I’m pregnant.”

Y/N’s expression didn’t shift in surprise. Only softened.

Lizzie looked down, blinking quickly, but it didn’t stop the tears from gathering. “We were careful,” she whispered, voice catching. “I thought we had more time…”

That was all it took.

Y/N immediately set both mugs aside, barely caring about the tea anymore as she sat down and gently pulled Lizzie into her lap, wrapping her arms around her like instinct.

“Hey… hey,” she murmured, one hand cradling the back of her head, guiding her close. “It’s okay. It’s okay…”

Lizzie melted into her, burying her face into Y/N’s shoulder with a small, frustrated sound.

“I didn’t want this yet,” she mumbled. “I just— I wanted it to be ours a little longer…”

“I know,” Y/N whispered, pressing a soft kiss into her hair. “I know, baby.”

Her hand slid down, resting protectively over Lizzie’s stomach, thumb brushing gently back and forth.

“We both knew this would happen eventually,” she continued softly. “It’s… kind of impossible to hide forever. Not with the lives we have.”

Lizzie nodded faintly against her, though her pout didn’t fade. “Still…”

“I get it,” Y/N said immediately.

She pulled back just enough to see her face, her thumbs brushing away the tears that had slipped free. Then she leaned in, pressing gentle kisses to Lizzie’s cheeks—one, then the other.

“I understand,” she murmured.

Lizzie sniffled, her hands gripping lightly at Y/N’s shirt. “I just wanted it to be ours.”

Y/N’s expression softened even more. “It still is.”

Lizzie looked at her.

Y/N smiled faintly, nudging her nose against hers before continuing, “We don’t have to confirm anything. We don’t owe anyone that. Let them guess. Let them talk.”

Her hand slid back down to Lizzie’s stomach, resting there like it belonged.

“Because this?” she added quietly. “This is always going to be ours. No matter who figures it out.”

Lizzie’s shoulders slowly relaxed. Her breathing evened out.

“…Yeah?” she asked softly.

Y/N nodded, leaning in to kiss her properly this time—slow, grounding. “Yeah.”

A small kick followed beneath their hands.

Both of them paused.

Then Lizzie let out a quiet, teary laugh. “…I think they agree.”

Y/N smiled against her. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I think they do too.”

Lizzie’s laughter lingered for a moment, soft and breathy, before it faded into something quieter.

Her fingers twisted lightly in Y/N’s shirt as she looked down, voice small again. “…I’m sorry.”

Y/N frowned immediately. “For what?”

“For… this,” Lizzie gestured vaguely, her nose scrunching as she wiped at the last of her tears. “Crying over things like that. It’s stupid, I just— I get so emotional lately and I can’t control it.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She shifted her grip slightly, one hand coming up to cup Lizzie’s cheek, guiding her to look at her.

“Hey. No,” she said gently. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Lizzie huffed softly. “Even if my moods are all over the place because of the pregnancy?”

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. “Especially then.”

Lizzie blinked. “…What?”

“I love it,” Y/N said simply.

Lizzie stared at her like she’d just said something ridiculous. “You love it?”

Y/N nodded, completely serious—at first.

“I love every mood swing you have,” she continued, her thumb brushing over Lizzie’s cheek again. “The soft ones, the clingy ones, the emotional ones…”

She paused.

Then her expression shifted—just slightly. A smirk.

“And especially the ones where you wake me up in the middle of the night because you’re in the mood.”

She wiggled her brows.

Lizzie froze for half a second—then burst out laughing.

“Oh my God,” she groaned, hiding her face briefly in Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re unbelievable.”

“But I’m right,” Y/N shot back, clearly pleased with herself.

Lizzie shook her head, still smiling, before pulling back just enough to look at her again. There was something softer there now. Warmer.

Her hand came up to rest against Y/N’s jaw, thumb brushing lightly over her skin.

Then she leaned in—and kissed her.

Slow. Deep. Not rushed, not teasing—just full of everything she couldn’t quite put into words.

Y/N melted into it instantly, one arm tightening around her waist, the other sliding up to cradle the back of her neck, holding her there—grounding her.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling.

Lizzie’s eyes stayed on hers.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Y/N smiled softly, brushing her nose against Lizzie’s.

“I love you too.”

Another small kick nudged between them.

And this time—

Neither of them missed it.

The kick lingered between them like a quiet reminder.

Lizzie’s breath hitched softly, her eyes flickering down before she let out a small, amused exhale. “…They really have timing.”

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh, her hand instinctively sliding back over Lizzie’s stomach, fingers splaying gently. “Yeah. Already interrupting.”

“Rude,” Lizzie murmured, though her smile gave her away.

They stayed like that for a moment—foreheads resting together, bodies close, Y/N’s arms secure around her, grounding her in a way nothing else quite could. The tension from earlier had softened into something warm again. Safe.

Lizzie shifted slightly, getting more comfortable in Y/N’s lap, one arm looping loosely around her neck. “We’re really doing this,” she said quietly.

Y/N tilted her head. “Doing what?”

Lizzie glanced down at her stomach, then back at her. “…This. Us. Them.”

There was no fear in her voice now—just awe.

Y/N’s expression softened completely. “Yeah,” she said gently. “We are.”

Another small movement brushed against her palm, and Y/N smiled, absentmindedly tracing slow circles over the spot.

Lizzie watched her for a second, something fond settling deep in her chest. “You’re going to spoil them.”

Y/N didn’t even look up. “Absolutely.”

Lizzie laughed softly. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

That made Lizzie shake her head, but she leaned in anyway, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Y/N’s mouth. “We don’t even know who they are yet,” she murmured.

Y/N finally looked at her again, eyes warm. “Doesn’t matter.”

Lizzie’s lips curved. “…Yeah,” she whispered.

A quiet pause settled between them before Y/N glanced toward the table. “Your tea’s getting cold.”

Lizzie made a small noise of protest, tightening her hold slightly. “Don’t move.”

Y/N smirked. “Bossy.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” Y/N admitted easily.

Still, she leaned just enough to grab the mugs, carefully handing one back to Lizzie before settling again, keeping her tucked close with one arm.

Lizzie took a small sip, sighing softly as the warmth spread through her.

For a while, neither of them spoke—just quiet sips, soft touches, the occasional tiny movement beneath their hands reminding them they weren’t alone anymore.

Lizzie rested her head against Y/N’s shoulder again, voice softer now. “…Do you think they can hear us?”

Y/N hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe.”

Lizzie’s fingers traced absent patterns against Y/N’s collarbone. “Then they should know…”

She trailed off slightly, like she was choosing her words carefully.

Y/N glanced at her. “Know what?”

Lizzie smiled faintly, her hand drifting back down to her stomach. “That they’re already loved.”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. She just leaned down, pressing another gentle kiss to Lizzie’s temple, her hand covering Lizzie’s over her stomach.

“…Yeah,” she said quietly. “They definitely know.”

———

Y/N’s POV

I should’ve known it was a bad idea the second we stepped out of the car.

Not because of her—never because of her.

But because of the way the air shifted.

You get used to it, living this kind of life. The subtle change. The feeling of being watched before you actually *see* anyone. The quiet clicks in the distance that don’t belong.

I closed the car door and glanced around casually.

Yeah.

We weren’t alone.

“Y/N?” Lizzie’s voice pulled my attention back instantly.

I softened without thinking. “Yeah, baby?”

She adjusted the tote bag on her shoulder, one hand resting low on her stomach—absent, natural, like she didn’t even realize she was doing it anymore.

God.

Even with the oversized cardigan, the bump was there. Not obvious to everyone—but to me? Unmistakable.

“Are we getting everything for dinner tonight?” she asked.

I forced myself to focus, pushing the awareness of cameras to the back of my mind—for now. “Yeah. You wanted pasta, right?”

“And fruit,” she added quickly. “And that tea I liked.”

“The chamomile?”

She nodded.

I smiled faintly. “Got it.”

I reached for her hand without thinking, lacing our fingers together as we started toward the store entrance.

A camera clicked.

Then another.

I didn’t look. Didn’t react. That was rule number one.

Inside, things were quieter—but not safe. Never safe.

Still, the normalcy of it settled something in my chest. Fluorescent lights. Shopping carts. The low hum of people minding their business.

For a moment, it almost felt like we were just… us.

“Okay,” Lizzie said, grabbing a cart. “We’re not leaving without snacks this time.”

I raised a brow. “We?”

“Yes, we,” she shot back, already steering the cart. “You eat them too.”

“I eat what you buy,” I corrected.

“Exactly.”

I huffed a quiet laugh, falling into step beside her.

She moved slower these days—not in a bad way. Just… careful.

And I matched her without thinking. Always did.

We made our way through the aisles, picking things up one by one—pasta, sauce, fruit, tea.

Normal. Simple. Mine.

At some point, she paused in front of a display, one hand pressing lightly against her lower back.

I noticed immediately.

“Hey,” I murmured, stepping closer. “You okay?”

She nodded, giving me a small smile. “Yeah. Just… stretching a little.”

My hand moved before I could think—settling gently against her stomach, instinctive, protective.

There it was again. That curve.

This time, there was no hiding it. Not in that fitted top. Not with the way she was standing. Not with my hand right there.

I felt it before she even spoke—a small movement under my palm.

“…Hey,” I whispered, my voice dropping automatically.

Lizzie’s eyes softened. “They’re active today.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

She smiled—really smiled this time—and then, without warning, she leaned in.

Just a little. Just enough.

Her lips brushed mine—soft, quick, but real.

And for a split second—

I forgot where we were.

Forgot everything except her.

The warmth of her lips. The way her body leaned into mine like it was the most natural thing in the world. The quiet little breath she let out against me that I felt more than heard.

I almost chased it when she pulled back.

Almost.

Then—

A sharp click. Too loud. Too close.

Reality snapped back into place.

My eyes lifted instinctively, scanning past her shoulder—and there it was.

A camera. No—multiple.

Across the aisle. Near the endcap. Reflections in the freezer doors.

All pointed at us.

At her.

At my hand still resting on the gentle curve of her stomach.

Shit.

I felt Lizzie shift slightly in my arms, but she didn’t pull away fully. Didn’t hide. Didn’t turn.

Instead, her fingers curled into my shirt, grounding herself.

“…Well,” she murmured softly, almost amused despite everything. “That answers that.”

She gave a small shrug like it wasn’t the end of the world—then reached down and took my hand.

“Come on,” she added, tugging me gently. “We still need snacks.”

I blinked at her for half a second, then huffed a quiet laugh.

Of course she would react like that.

“Yeah,” I said, letting her pull me along. “Snacks are definitely the priority here.”

Behind us, the clicking picked up again—faster, more desperate now that they knew.

But it didn’t last long.

A sharp voice cut through the air near the entrance.

“Alright, that’s enough. You need to leave—now.”

Security.

I didn’t even have to turn to know what was happening next—protests, a couple last-second clicks, shuffling.

Then—

Silence.

Real silence this time.

Lizzie glanced back briefly, then forward again like it didn’t matter anymore. “They’re gone,” she said simply.

I nodded. “Good.”

My hand squeezed hers once before I let go, reaching for a basket instead. “Alright. What are we craving today?”

Her eyes lit up immediately.

“Okay—don’t judge me.”

“That already sounds suspicious.”

“I want those chocolate-covered strawberries,” she said, already turning down the aisle. “And the spicy chips. And—oh!—those little honey cakes.”

I stared at her.

“Spicy chips and honey cakes?” I repeated.

“Yes.”

“In the same sitting?”

She looked at me like I was the unreasonable one. “Absolutely.”

I shook my head, grabbing the strawberries anyway. “Pregnancy is wild.”

“It’s valid,” she corrected, plucking the chips off the shelf and dropping them into the basket.

“Uh-huh.”

“And I want pickles.”

“Of course you do.”

“And ice cream.”

“Obviously.”

She bumped her shoulder into mine lightly, smiling.

I watched her for a second—really watched her. The way she moved slower, but with purpose. The way her hand kept drifting back to her stomach without thinking. The way she still looked like herself in every way that mattered.

My chest tightened—just a little.

In a good way.

“Anything else?” I asked, softer now.

She paused, thinking, then glanced at me with a small grin. “Yeah.”

“What?”

“You.”

I snorted. “You already got me.”

“Good,” she said, satisfied, continuing down the aisle.

I followed right behind her, basket in hand, shaking my head.

The cameras were gone. The noise was gone.

And just like that—

It was normal again.

Just grocery shopping. Just us.

Even if… it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

——

Getting her home felt like a mission.

Not because it was far—but because I refused to let her carry a single thing.

“Y/N, I can take at least one bag—”

“No.”

“Just one—”

“No.”

Lizzie huffed behind me as I grabbed the last of the groceries from the car, balancing more bags than I probably should’ve. “You’re being dramatic.”

I kicked the door shut with my foot. “You’re pregnant.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re growing two humans.”

She went quiet for a second.

“…Okay, that’s fair,” she muttered.

I smirked to myself as I carried everything inside, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter in one trip before heading back for the rest.

By the time I came in with the last load, the house was quiet.

Too quiet.

“Liz?” I called out.

“Bathroom!” she called back.

Of course.

I shook my head, starting to unpack things—fruits in the bowl, cold stuff in the fridge, snacks off to the side. Normal. Grounding.

A few minutes later, I heard the bathroom door open and soft footsteps padding back into the kitchen.

I didn’t turn right away. “Hey, can you—”

I stopped mid-sentence when I finally looked up.

Lizzie stood by the counter.

Holding a jar of pickles.

And a tub of ice cream.

I blinked.

“…What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she casually unscrewed the jar, grabbed a pickle—and dipped it straight into the ice cream.

I stared.

Actually stared.

“No,” I said immediately.

“Yes,” she said, completely unfazed.

“Lizzie—”

She took a bite.

And hummed.

Hummed.

“Mm.”

I looked at her like she had completely lost it. “That is a crime.”

“It’s good,” she shot back, already going in for another bite.

“There’s no way that’s good.”

“You’re just scared.”

“I’m not scared, I have taste.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping closer and holding it out toward me. “Try it.”

I leaned back slightly. “Absolutely not.”

“Y/N.”

“No.”

“Y/N.”

I narrowed my eyes.

She raised a brow. Challenge. God.

“Fine,” I muttered.

I took the pickle from her, eyeing it like it might personally offend me, then dipped it—just slightly—into the ice cream.

Lizzie watched me expectantly.

I took a bite.

Paused.

Chewed.

…Huh.

Lizzie’s grin grew instantly. “Right?”

I swallowed, trying very hard not to look impressed.

“…It’s okay,” I admitted.

“It’s good.”

“It’s—” I pointed at it. “—confusing.”

She laughed, bright and satisfied, taking it back from me. “I told you.”

I shook my head, but I was smiling now, watching her lean against the counter, completely content with her bizarre snack combination.

“You know,” I said, crossing my arms as I leaned against the island, “your anchovies bruschetta was still worse.”

Lizzie gasped like I’d just insulted her entire existence. “Excuse you—that was gourmet.”

“That was a cry for help.”

“It was art.”

“It was fish on toast, Liz.”

She pointed the pickle at me. “And this isn’t?”

I glanced at the ice cream-covered pickle, then back at her. “…Okay, fair point.”

She grinned, victorious, before taking another bite.

I watched her for a second longer, softer now, before reaching out and brushing a bit of melted ice cream off her thumb. “Messy,” I muttered.

“You love it.”

“Unfortunately.”

She smiled at that, leaning into the counter a little more comfortably—

Then her phone started ringing.

We both glanced toward it.

Lizzie frowned slightly, setting the jar and tub down before reaching for her phone. Her expression shifted the second she saw the name on the screen.

“…It’s my publicist,” she said quietly.

I straightened a little, my smile fading just enough. “Yeah,” I murmured. “That tracks.”

Lizzie answered, putting it on speaker as she leaned back against the counter again. “Hey.”

“Lizzie,” the voice came through—professional, a little tight. “I assume you’ve seen what’s already circulating?”

Lizzie exhaled softly. “Yeah. We got spotted.”

“Not just spotted,” her publicist replied. “There are clear photos. You and Y/N. And—” a slight pause, “—your stomach. With her hand on it.”

My jaw tightened slightly, but I stayed quiet.

Lizzie’s hand instinctively moved back over her bump, her fingers resting there protectively. “…Okay,” she said calmly.

“There’s already speculation picking up speed,” the publicist continued. “Which brings me to the next issue—your interview next week. The host has reached out asking if they’re allowed to address the rumors on-air.”

Silence stretched for a second.

I looked at Lizzie.

She didn’t hesitate.

“No,” she said.

Clear. Firm. Not even a second thought.

“…You’re sure?” her publicist asked carefully.

“Yes,” Lizzie repeated. “No questions about it. I’m not confirming anything.”

Another pause on the line.

“Understood,” the publicist said finally. “We’ll make that clear to them.”

Lizzie nodded faintly, even though they couldn’t see her. “Thank you.”

“We’ll keep monitoring the situation,” they added. “Call me if anything escalates.”

“Okay.”

The call ended.

The kitchen fell quiet again.

Lizzie stared at her phone for a moment longer before locking it and setting it down.

I stepped closer without saying anything, my hand finding her waist again, grounding.

She leaned into me immediately.

“…You okay?” I asked softly.

She nodded, though her fingers tightened slightly in my shirt. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I just… meant what I said.”

I tilted my head. “About?”

She glanced down at her stomach, then back at me. “I’m not giving this to them,” she said quietly. “Not yet.”

Something in my chest eased.

I nodded. “Then we don’t.”

Simple as that.

Lizzie exhaled, her shoulders relaxing as she rested against me again.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then—

I shifted slightly, reaching for my phone on the counter.

Lizzie glanced at me. “What are you doing?”

“Looking,” I said.

“At what?”

“The damage,” I muttered under my breath.

She made a small face but didn’t stop me, just leaning into my side as I unlocked my phone and typed quickly.

It didn’t take long.

Of course it didn’t.

Images flooded the screen almost instantly—angles, zooms, headlines already forming around them.

My jaw tightened at a few of them.

Too invasive. Too close. Then—

I stopped scrolling.

“…Huh.”

Lizzie tilted her head, trying to see. “What?”

I turned the phone slightly so she could look.

It was that moment.

Her leaning up toward me, lips just brushing mine. My hand resting low on her stomach—natural, instinctive. The curve of her bump visible—not obvious, not confirmed—but… there.

Enough to make people wonder. Enough to make them talk.

But the picture itself?

It didn’t feel invasive.

It felt… soft. Real.

Lizzie went quiet beside me.

“…Oh,” she whispered.

I studied it for another second, then glanced at her. “…I actually like it.”

She blinked, looking up at me. “You do?”

“Yeah,” I said simply.

My thumb brushed lightly against her side as I met her eyes. “My wife looks beautiful.”

Her expression softened instantly.

I tilted the phone back toward us, nodding at the image. “You’re glowing,” I added quietly.

Lizzie’s breath caught just slightly, her hand drifting down to her stomach again as she looked at the picture—at herself, at us.

“…We look…” she trailed off.

“Happy,” I finished for her.

She nodded faintly. “Yeah.”

I locked the phone and set it aside, stepping closer so there was no space between us now.

My hand slipped back to her waist, thumb brushing lightly against her side as I looked down at her.

“…You know,” I murmured, “watching you eat all that just made me hungry.”

Lizzie perked up immediately, already shifting like she was about to move. “Oh! I can make you something—”

I stopped her with a kiss.

Soft. Quick. Certain.

“No need,” I said against her lips, smiling faintly as I pulled back just enough to look at her. “You sit. Enjoy your… very questionable snack.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, eyes warm. “Rude.”

“Accurate.”

I nudged her gently back toward the counter, guiding the tub of ice cream back into her hands. “Go on,” I added. “I’ve got it.”

Lizzie watched me for a second, something soft settling in her expression again before she nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly.

I leaned in one more time, pressing a quick kiss to her temple—lingering just a second longer than necessary—before stepping away to grab something for myself.

Behind me, I heard the faint clink of the jar opening again.

I smiled to myself.

Yeah.

Everything else could wait.

Right now—

We were home.

———

No One’s POV

The steady whoosh-whoosh filled the room.

Y/N didn’t think she’d ever get used to it. Or maybe… she didn’t want to. She sat close beside Lizzie, one hand wrapped around hers, the other resting gently over her stomach as they both stared at the monitor.

Two heartbeats. Strong. Clear. Perfect.

The doctor smiled as she adjusted a few things on the screen. “Everything looks great. Growth is right where it should be, heart rates are strong, and both babies are very active.”

Lizzie let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “That’s… good. That’s really good.”

Y/N squeezed her hand. “Told you.”

The doctor chuckled lightly. “You’re both doing everything right. Just keep resting, eating well, and we’ll see you at the next appointment.”

Y/N nodded. “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, they were out of the clinic, the calm reassurance of the appointment still settling warmly in their chests.

Lizzie walked a little slower, one hand naturally resting on her stomach again as they made their way to the car.

“Two strong heartbeats,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Y/N glanced at her, smiling softly. “Yeah.”

Lizzie looked at her, eyes bright. “We’re really doing this.”

Y/N opened the passenger door for her, steady as ever. “We are.”

---

The drive home was quiet.

Comfortable.

Lizzie leaned back in her seat, one hand still on her stomach, the other resting lazily on the center console—close enough to Y/N that their fingers brushed every now and then.

Y/N drove with one hand, the other occasionally reaching over just to touch her.

Grounding.

Then—Her phone rang.

Y/N glanced at the screen, brow lifting slightly. “It’s my mom.”

Lizzie turned her head. “Want me to get it?”

“Yeah, please.”

Lizzie picked up the phone, answering as she put it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Oh—Lizzie, sweetheart!” her voice came through warm and familiar. “Hi, honey.”

Lizzie smiled instantly. “Hi! How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. I was actually calling to see if you two were free for lunch today?”

Y/N glanced over briefly, one hand still on the wheel. “Lunch?”

Lizzie laughed softly. “She heard you.”

“Of course I did,” her mom replied playfully. “So? Are you busy or can I steal you both for a bit?”

Lizzie looked at Y/N, silently asking.

Y/N shrugged lightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’m free.”

Lizzie nodded. “We’re free.”

“Oh good,” her mom said, clearly pleased. “I’ll make something nice. You two just come over.”

Lizzie’s hand drifted back to her stomach again as she smiled. “We’d love that.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

The call ended.

Lizzie set the phone back down gently, her fingers lingering on it for a second before she leaned back into her seat again.

There was a small smile on her face.

Y/N glanced at her briefly, then back at the road, a knowing look already settling in.

“…You know she just wants to see you, right?”

Lizzie let out a soft laugh. “What?”

“My mom,” Y/N said, one hand tapping lightly against the steering wheel. “She just wants to check on you. Make sure you’re okay. Make sure you’re eating. Resting. Breathing correctly.” She paused. “Existing correctly.”

Lizzie laughed a little harder at that. “I am existing correctly.”

“I know,” Y/N said, amused. “Tell her that.”

Lizzie shook her head, smiling. “She was just here two weeks ago.”

“Exactly,” Y/N pointed out. “And clearly that wasn’t enough.”

Lizzie’s hand drifted back to her stomach again, thumb brushing gently over the curve. “She worries.”

“Yeah,” Y/N said softly. “She does.”

There was no annoyance in her voice—just familiarity.

Lizzie glanced at her, her expression softening. “I don’t mind.”

Y/N looked over, just for a second. “I know you don’t.”

And that was part of it too.

Lizzie didn’t just tolerate it—she welcomed it. The care, the attention, the quiet way Y/N’s mom had already slipped into that role without hesitation.

“How much food do you think she’s making?” Lizzie asked after a moment.

Y/N huffed. “Too much.”

“For three people?”

“For ten.”

Lizzie smiled, settling more comfortably into her seat. “Good.”

Y/N raised a brow. “You say that now.”

“I’m serious,” Lizzie said, glancing down at her stomach. “They’ve been hungry all day.”

Y/N’s hand immediately reached over, resting there like it belonged. “Yeah?” she murmured.

Lizzie nodded. “Yeah.”

A small pause.

Then—

“…Also,” Lizzie added, almost casually, “if she made dessert, I’m not sharing.”

Y/N snorted. “Of course you’re not.”

Lizzie grinned.

And just like that—

The car filled with quiet laughter again as they drove on.

——

The rest of the drive passed easily, the kind of quiet that didn’t need filling.

By the time they pulled up to Y/N’s mom’s house, Lizzie was already smiling.

“You’re excited,” Y/N pointed out as she turned off the engine.

Lizzie didn’t even try to deny it. “I like your mom.”

“I’m aware,” Y/N muttered, grabbing the keys.

“And she likes me,” Lizzie added, unbuckling.

Y/N gave her a look. “She loves you.”

Lizzie grinned. “As she should.”

Y/N shook her head, but there was no hiding the fondness as she got out and quickly moved around to Lizzie’s side, opening the door for her out of habit. “Careful,” she murmured, offering her hand.

Lizzie took it, stepping out slowly. “I’m not fragile.”

“You’re carrying two tiny humans.”

“…Okay, fair,” she admitted.

They walked up to the door together, fingers loosely intertwined.

Y/N barely had time to knock before the door swung open.

“Lizzie!”

Her mom lit up instantly—completely bypassing Y/N as she stepped forward.

“Oh, sweetheart, come here!”

Lizzie laughed softly, letting go of Y/N’s hand just in time to be pulled into a warm hug. “Hi,” she greeted, hugging her back easily.

Y/N stood there, watching with a raised brow. “Wow,” she deadpanned. “Nice to see you too.”

Her mom waved a hand dismissively without even looking at her. “Hi, honey.”

Then immediately back to Lizzie—

“Let me look at you,” she said, pulling back just enough to gently hold Lizzie by the arms, eyes scanning her face with concern that quickly softened into relief. “How are you feeling? Are you tired? Are you eating enough?”

Lizzie smiled, completely at ease. “I’m good, I promise.”

Y/N leaned against the doorframe slightly, arms crossing. “Told you.”

Her mom shot her a look. “You don’t count, I need to hear it from her.”

Lizzie laughed, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach again. “I’m really okay. We just came from the appointment actually—everything’s good.”

That got her attention.

“Oh?” her mom’s expression brightened even more. “Everything’s alright?”

“Yeah,” Lizzie nodded. “Both babies are doing great.”

Her mom’s face softened immediately, something emotional flickering there before she reached out, placing a gentle hand over Lizzie’s. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.”

Y/N watched quietly, her expression softening despite herself.

“…Can we come in or is this a doorstep interview?” she teased lightly.

Her mom finally looked at her again. “Get in here.”

Y/N smirked, stepping inside with Lizzie right beside her.

The door closed behind them.

And just like that—

They were home again.

In a different way.

——

Lunch settled into something warm and easy. The table was full—just like Y/N said it would be. Too much food for three people.

Lizzie didn’t complain. If anything, she looked very pleased as she sat beside Y/N, already halfway through her plate while Y/N’s mom hovered just enough to make sure she kept eating.

“See?” her mom said, pointing lightly with her fork. “This is exactly how it was when I was pregnant with you two.”

Y/N groaned softly. “Here we go…”

Lizzie perked up immediately. “No, no—I want to hear this.”

Y/N shot her a betrayed look. “Of course you do.”

Her mom ignored her entirely, smiling at Lizzie. “I was constantly hungry. Didn’t matter what I ate, I’d be hungry again an hour later. And the cravings?” She laughed lightly. “Don’t even get me started.”

Lizzie leaned forward slightly, fully invested. “Bad?”

“Pickles and peanut butter.”

Y/N blinked. “…Okay, that’s worse than yours.”

Lizzie gasped. “Hey!”

Her mom laughed. “See? It runs in the family.”

Y/N shook her head, but she was smiling, watching the two of them like this—so natural, so easy.

“…And carrying twins,” her mom continued, her tone softening just slightly, “it’s a lot. You don’t realize how much your body is doing until you’re in it.”

Lizzie’s hand drifted to her stomach again, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah… I’m starting to feel that.”

Her mom reached over, resting her hand gently over Lizzie’s for a second. “You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

Lizzie smiled softly. “Thank you.”

A comfortable pause settled over the table before her mom leaned back slightly, studying them both.

“…So,” she said, a hint of curiosity slipping in, “I assume you’ve seen what people are saying?”

Y/N let out a quiet sigh. “Yeah.”

Lizzie nodded. “We got spotted earlier.”

Her mom hummed knowingly. “I figured. It’s everywhere.”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, arms crossing loosely. “Of course it is.”

“They’re going crazy,” her mom added, not unkindly. “Speculating, analyzing… you know how it goes.”

Lizzie gave a small, resigned smile. “Yeah. We do.”

Another pause.

Then—

“We’re not announcing anything yet,” Y/N said, more firmly this time.

Lizzie glanced at her, then nodded. “We wanted to keep it to ourselves a little longer.”

Her mom considered that, nodding slowly. “That makes sense.”

“But…” Lizzie added quietly, “it’s getting harder to hide.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, but her hand found Lizzie’s under the table, giving it a small squeeze.

Her mom watched that, thoughtful.

Then she tilted her head slightly.

“You know…” she said carefully, “there are ways to handle that without… announcing it.”

Both of them looked at her.

“What do you mean?” Lizzie asked.

Her mom smiled faintly. “You don’t have to confirm anything with words.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Go on.”

“You can just… show it,” she said simply. “Naturally. On your own terms. No statements, no interviews. Just—exist. Let people see what they’re already trying to figure out.”

Lizzie blinked slightly, processing.

Y/N leaned back a bit, considering. “…So we don’t say it,” she murmured.

“But we don’t hide it either,” Lizzie finished.

Her mom nodded. “Exactly.”

Silence settled for a moment.

Not uncomfortable.

Just… thoughtful.

Lizzie glanced down at her stomach, her thumb brushing lightly over it.

Y/N watched her, then looked back at her mom.

“…That’s not a bad idea,” she admitted.

Lizzie looked up at her, something soft in her eyes. “It still stays ours.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah.”

Her mom smiled, satisfied, reaching for her glass again. “Just something to think about.”

And as the conversation drifted into something lighter again—

The idea lingered.

Quiet.

Possible.

Theirs.

---

And that’s exactly what they did.

The next morning felt… intentional. Not staged. Not forced. Just—decided.

Lizzie stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of her long-sleeve light blue shirt. It draped loosely in places, but not enough to hide anything anymore.

Not today.

Today, the curve was there.

Soft. Visible. Real.

Y/N leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her quietly.

There was something about this—about the way Lizzie held herself—that made her chest tighten.

Pride. Awe. Love.

“You ready?” Lizzie asked, glancing at her through the mirror.

Y/N pushed off the frame, stepping closer. “Yeah.”

Lizzie turned toward her, grabbing her sunglasses and slipping them on, that familiar confidence settling into place.

“I want brunch,” she said simply.

Y/N huffed a small laugh. “Of course you do.”

“I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”

“I’m sure you have.”

Lizzie smiled, reaching for her hand. “Come on.”

---

Now they were walking side by side, fingers intertwined, the late morning sun warm against their skin.

No rushing. No hiding.

Just… walking.

Some people noticed, glancing twice. Some whispered. Some tried to be subtle and failed.

Y/N ignored all of it.

Because right now?

All she saw was Lizzie.

The way the shirt moved with her. The way her hand occasionally drifted to her stomach. The way she walked like she’d made peace with something.

Y/N squeezed her hand gently.

Lizzie glanced over. “What?”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, taking her in. “You look beautiful.”

Lizzie’s lips curved instantly. “Yeah?”

Y/N leaned in just a little closer, her voice dropping so only Lizzie could hear. “And sexy.”

Lizzie stilled mid-step.

Then slowly turned her head toward her, lowering her sunglasses just enough to peer at her over the rim.

The look she gave her?

Dangerous.

“Oh?” she murmured.

Y/N smirked faintly, unbothered.

Lizzie stepped a little closer, their shoulders brushing as she spoke under her breath. “You better behave,” she warned softly. “Or we’re turning right back around and going home.”

Y/N’s grin widened. “That sounds like a reward, not a threat.”

Lizzie let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she nudged her lightly. “Stop it.”

Y/N raised her hands slightly in mock innocence. “I’m not doing anything.”

Lizzie shot her a look over her sunglasses.

Y/N leaned in just a little, voice softer—but still teasing. “What? Is it bad to find my wife sexy?”

Lizzie groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Oh my God…”

Before Y/N could say anything else, Lizzie grabbed her arm and turned sharply—

Back the way they came.

“Lizzie—” Y/N laughed, letting herself be pulled along. “Are you serious right now?”

“You asked for it,” Lizzie muttered, though there was no real heat behind it—just flustered amusement.

Y/N’s laughter followed them down the sidewalk, light and easy. “Best brunch plan ever,” she teased.

Lizzie shook her head, still tugging her along.

But she was smiling.

And she didn’t let go.

---

The room was quiet except for their breathing.

Soft. Uneven.

They were still tangled together in the aftermath—skin warm, bodies bare, both of them breathless in that quiet, hazy bliss that followed sex.

Y/N lay on her back, one arm wrapped loosely around Lizzie, the other brushing gently through her hair as she pressed slow, lingering kisses to her forehead.

Lizzie hummed faintly, eyes half-lidded, completely melted into her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Just… floating in it.

Then—

“…I’m hungry,” Lizzie murmured.

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh against her skin. “You are?”

Lizzie nodded lazily, her fingers tracing absent patterns along Y/N’s chest. “…Mhm.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly. “What are we craving now?”

There was a pause.

Then—

“…Caviar.”

Y/N blinked. “…Caviar?”

Lizzie nodded again, completely serious. “Yes.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You know we were literally on our way to brunch, right?”

“I know,” Lizzie mumbled, snuggling closer, pressing her face into Y/N’s shoulder. “But I don’t want to move anymore.”

Y/N’s hand slid down her back, slow and soothing. “You just dragged me all the way back home.”

“Worth it,” Lizzie said instantly.

Y/N smiled faintly, pressing another kiss to her hair.

A quiet beat passed.

“…I’m still hungry,” Lizzie added, a little more insistent this time, though she made no move to get up.

Y/N hummed, amused. “I can tell.”

Lizzie made a small protesting sound, tightening her hold on her. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” Y/N said softly.

Another second.

Then Y/N shifted slightly. “Alright. I’ll make you something.”

Lizzie groaned immediately, clinging tighter. “Nooo, don’t move…”

“I thought you were hungry.”

“I am,” Lizzie whined softly, contradicting herself completely as she pressed closer.

Y/N chuckled, gently prying herself free. “I’ll be quick.”

Lizzie reluctantly let go, watching her with a small pout as Y/N sat up, reaching down to grab her boxers from the floor and pulling them on, followed by a loose shirt.

Lizzie’s eyes followed every movement, still dazed, still soft. “…You’re really going?” she mumbled.

Y/N glanced back at her, smiling softly. “Yeah. Stay there.”

Lizzie huffed, sinking deeper into the pillows, still watching her. “Bring me something good… with caviar!”

From down the hall, Y/N’s voice came back, amused and easy—

“Got ya!”

Lizzie smiled to herself, the sound of her voice lingering as she shifted under the sheets, pulling the blanket higher over her body, cocooning herself in warmth.

The bed still smelled like them. Felt like them.

She sighed softly, one hand resting over her stomach as she reached for her phone with the other.

A few taps.

And there it was.

Pictures.

From earlier.

Already everywhere.

Headlines, posts, fans zooming in, circling, pointing out the curve beneath her shirt.

“SHE’S PREGNANT???”

“Look at the bump!!”

“Y/N’s hand—OH MY GOD”

“I’m crying they’re going to be parents 😭”

Lizzie let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head slightly as she scrolled. “They’re fast…” she murmured.

Her hand drifted lower, palm flattening gently over her bump as her gaze softened.

“…What do you think, huh?” she whispered. “You’ve already got fans.”

She rubbed slow, soothing circles. “They’re very excited about you.”

For a second—

Nothing.

Then—

A kick.

On one side.

Lizzie’s breath hitched, her smile widening instantly. “Oh—”

Another kick followed, from the other side.

She laughed softly, eyes shining as she pressed her hand there, feeling both of them.

“Okay, okay,” she murmured. “I get it.”

Her thumb traced gently over the curve of her stomach, her voice softening even more. “You two are already making yourselves known, huh?”

Another small movement answered her.

Lizzie leaned back into the pillows, her expression warm, full, completely at peace as she held her stomach.

“…Yeah,” she whispered.

And for now—

That was enough.

A sudden bang echoed from downstairs.

Lizzie startled slightly, head lifting. “Y/N?!”

There was a brief pause—

Then Y/N’s voice carried up from below, casual as ever.

“It’s nothing! I got it!”

Lizzie blinked, then let out a soft sigh, sinking back into the pillows.

Of course.

A small smile tugged at her lips as her hand returned to her stomach, thumb brushing gently over the curve.

“…Your other parent,” she murmured fondly.

Another faint movement answered her.

Lizzie’s smile only grew.

And just like that—

Everything felt right again.

---

Leave your comments!

[marvelselfinserts]

Hii! Can I request a Wanda x reader where Wanda isn’t able to fully control her powers so she tries out new spells but accidentally turns into a cat

Kitty

Wanda Maximoff x Reader [A/N] Love this request, so cute and unhinged 😂 Hope you enjoy this one my lovely 😘

Wanda doesn’t like arguing with you. Knowing that you’re upset with her makes her feel awful so usually she caves quite quickly, wrapping her arms around you and pressing kisses to your face until you forget you’re cross with her. Today though she was the one who was cross – she’d been in a bad mood anyway but when she found out you’d gone out for breakfast without her she felt even worse. Part of her knew she was overreacting but you laughing at her when you’d gotten back, telling her to stop being so pouty had irritated her even more. You should’ve invited her, she was your girlfriend!

Too wound up to train in the gym with the others she’d booked out one of the meeting rooms in the compound to work on her spells. A close encounter with Agatha Harkness had shown Wanda that she was more powerful than she’d been led to believe, and she’d been practicing hard to try and cast different types of spells. Today she’s working on transfiguration – if she can turn enemies’ weapons into something harmless that would be really helpful on missions.

A lot of what Wanda is working on is guess work and she focuses on the gun in front of her – not loaded of course, in case anything goes wrong. As she’s working her mind flashes back to you laughing at her and she feels annoyed again. Frustrated, her powers surge and her vision turns red. A weird sensation comes over her before finally her vision clears.

Meanwhile, you’re feeling a little guilty about not inviting Wanda out for breakfast. Usually Wanda’s up earlier than you and this morning was a rare day where you’d gotten up first. Natasha and Carol had been going out and had invited you along, so you’d decided to join them. Maybe it had been mean not to go and wake up Wanda, see if she wanted to go too. This morning you’d made fun of her because it wasn’t like it had been pre-planned and you’d deliberately left her out. While you were working out you remembered the times she’d been invited to things and had sought you out, checking whether you wanted to come instead of just leaving. It was mean of you to not consider even asking her. You’d gone out with Natasha and Carol without a second thought.

Realising you need to apologise you go in search of her. You hadn’t noticed her in the gym but when you check the rota you find out which room she’s hired for the morning. As you walk you try and rehearse what you’re going to say in your head. You don’t like the thought that you’d upset Wanda and the guilt is growing. Tonight you’ll take her out for a nice dinner, as a way to show her that you really are sorry. You’d read online about a new restaurant in New York serving traditional Sokovian food, maybe that will cheer her up. Wanda often talks about how homesick she is.

When you reach the meeting room that Wanda was training in you pause in the doorway, surprised to find the room empty except for a gun on the table and a ginger cat, pawing at it. You raise your eye-brows and call out “Uh… Wanda?”

There’s no response other than the cat looking up at you and meowing loudly. It pads across the table and bats its paws towards you. You laugh “Aww you’re cute. Where’d you come from, hmm? Do you know where Wanda is, hmm?”

The cat meows loudly again and you pick it up, sitting down on one of the chairs to wait for Wanda as you scratch behind the cats ears. It lets out another loud meow and you laugh again “You’re really cute. Wanda mentioned wanting a cat. I didn’t think we were allowed pets but it wouldn’t surprise me if she snuck you in, huh?”

You lean back in the chair as the cat reaches up its paws to bat at your face again. You make smoochie noises, laughing as the cat meows again “You’re a friendly little thing, huh?” You look towards the door, your eye-brows furrowing. “Wanda’s been gone a while. Weird that she’d just leave a cat alone in here with-”

Your eyes widen and you look down at the cat, who meows at you, the creature’s eyes searching yours. “Maybe I’m crazy…” You glance back over at the gun then look down at the cat in your arms. “Are you… There’s no way but… Wanda?”

The cat meows loudly again and you stand up, placing the cat back on the table. She bats her paws at you and you run a hand through your hair “How the fuck- Why did you- Can you change back?”

Wanda shakes her head. Normally you would find it quite comical to see a cat empathetically shaking its head like that but you’ve got bigger problems. Wanda’s a cat. Where do you even begin…?

You lift Wanda back up into your arms, trying to sound calmer than you feel “Okay, okay, no problem. If you can’t change back, then… We’ll just find someone who can help you change back.”

Who has powers? Steve, Tony, Natasha, no… Carol? Well, she does, but not really the kind of powers that would help Wanda right now. Stephen! Stephen was a relative newcomer to the Avengers but if anyone could help Wanda turn back into herself again then it would be him. “Steve?” You call out as you step into the gym. “Where’s Stephen training today?”

Steve looks up at you from where he’s doing push-ups. “He’s not in today. He had to go back to the Sanctum Sanctorum, some kind of emergency. But he said he’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Can we like… Call him back sooner? Or can I go see him? If you give me the address-”

“Sorry, probably not wise right now, he seemed pretty stressed,” Steve glances over at you, raising his eye-brows. “Where’d the cat come from?”

“It’s-” You hesitate, cradling Wanda in your arms. “Don’t worry about it. If anyone asks, you didn’t see me with a cat.”

“But-”

You rush out of the gym, heading back to your bedroom with Wanda held carefully in your arms. You let her down onto your bed, watching as she looks up at you – you’ve never seen a cat look so indignant before. “I know, okay? But you heard him, Stephen’s away until tomorrow. And he won’t give me the address and I didn’t know if you wanted him to know that you’d accidentally turned yourself into a cat so I just figured- Ow!”

Wanda nips gently at your arm and you pull away, huffing at her “Maybe it’ll wear off while you’re asleep or something like that. Or maybe… Oh, maybe it’s like The Princess and the Frog. All I have to do is kiss you and then you’ll turn back into you again.”

You lean down, pressing a kiss to the top of the cat’s head. Nothing happens and you sigh “Well it was worth a shot.”

As you sit down on the bed Wanda patters over to you, batting her paw at you. “You only need to spend one night as a cat. Okay? We’ll just stay in my room until tomorrow and then I’ll go find Stephen.” You suddenly snort with laughter. “I hope you are Wanda. If I’m just talking to some random animal under the assumption it’s actually my girlfriend then-”

You double over, practically wheezing with laughter whilst the cat blinks at you slowly. Maybe you really have lost it and Wanda’s somewhere else in the compound, wondering where you are. It’s difficult to think of another explanation for why a random cat was hanging around in the room Wanda had occupied though. You lift Wanda into your arms, stroking your fingers over her fur. “I’ll take care of you. Promise.”

Hours go by and you do your best to entertain Wanda in her cat form. You dangle a piece of string in front of her and that seems to irritate her so you quickly suggest watching a movie. It’s strange watching a cat intently watch a movie and you take a photo, ignoring the way she bats her paws at you again, shrieking when she gives you a little scratch. At dinnertime you bring your food back to your room, and watch as Wanda glares at you for bringing her a plate of tuna “I don’t know, I don’t know what cats can eat! This seemed like a safe bet. I didn’t think you’d be thrilled if I brought you actual cat food and I’m worried your little cat stomach won’t be able to digest steak and vegetables.”

Reluctantly the cat begins to lap up the tuna on the plate and you watch her with a fond smile. You also brought a bowl of water which she laps up thirstily before climbing into your lap, curling up as you eat your own dinner. When you’re done you both watch another movie, your fingers stroking over her fur as she purrs happily.

“Hey…” You mumble as the movie finishes. “I was going to wait until you were you again but I figure I might as well say something now. I feel bad about going out for breakfast without you this morning.”

Wanda’s big cat eyes blink up at you and you sigh, stroking her fur again. “Natasha and Carol invited me. I’ve always been a bit worried because… Well, they’re so much cooler than me. You all are. Sometimes I get the impression that they don’t really like me that much and I guess I was so excited to have been invited that I just went without thinking. It’s no excuse though; I should’ve remembered you and asked. I’m really sorry Wands. And I’m sorry for acting like you were overreacting.”

You scratch behind her ears “Tomorrow, when you’re back to being you, God willing, I’ll take you out for dinner. My treat. To apologise for being such a lousy partner.”

Wanda bats her head against your fingers, purring again and you smile, figuring that you’re forgiven. You lie down; one arm wrapped around your cat girlfriend protectively “I love you Wands. Even if you’re stuck as a cat for the rest of your life, I'll be right here. Giving you head scratches and making sure you have plenty of tuna.”

Wanda bats her paw at your nose and you smile, pressing a kiss to her little head “Night Wands. Love you.”

The next morning you wait by the entrance, getting irritated when Stephen doesn’t make an appearance. Eventually you realise that he portalled here and you find him meeting with Natasha and Tony. When you eventually get him alone, it takes you a while to convince him that the cat in your arms is actually your girlfriend and he rolls his eyes, irritated. He’s not sure of the exact spell off the top of his head so he takes Wanda to the Sanctum Sanctorum, promising they’ll both be back before you know it.

You struggle to settle on anything as you wait for her to return. Eventually you end up in the gym, working the punching bag until you feel a tap on your shoulder. When you turn around you find Wanda, giving you a small, awkward smile and you wrap your arms around her immediately, pulling her close. “You’re back! Wait, you were the cat, right? Or did I have a really strange night with a random stray?”

“Yes, it was me,” Wanda smiles, kissing your cheek affectionately. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.”

“I had to redeem myself, given I’d been such a shit partner,” You say, leaning your forehead against hers. “I’m sorry Wands.”

“It’s okay. Just… Don’t forget me next time.”

“I’ll never forget you again. And I’m taking you out tonight, just like I promised.” You kiss her, savouring the feeling of her lips against yours, glad that she’s her again and no longer a cat. “Now tell me what the fuck happened and how on Earth you ended up as a cat?”

Wanda grins, taking your hand in hers as you both head towards the kitchen. Wanda’s looking forward to eating some proper food again. For a moment she’d been worried she’d be stuck as a cat for the rest of her life but she’s in no doubt that if she had, you’d have taken care of her. She's relieved to be human again though. It'll be a while before she attempts any new spells!