⊠You can call me Elle! I'm 20 and I use she/her pronouns.
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â àł ABOUT MY WRITING -
⊠I'm currently accepting requests for moodboards and drabbles, so if you have something in mind send it to me and I'll try my best, I love making them!
⊠I write more as a hobby when new ideas come up and that's why I prefer drabbles, because they're shorter and easier for me to write, so you're welcome to share your ideas!
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Word count: 11.2K words
Warnings: Porn with plot, threesome, mention of SA, kissing, biting, fingering (Wanda and reader receiving), strap penetration (Wanda and reader receiving), oral (Natasha receiving), not proof read
Summary: Back in high school, Y/N dated Natasha. When they broke up, Y/N started dating Wanda. When they broke up, Natasha and Wanda started dating each other. Now back for their high school reunion, Y/N is scared to see them both again and opening up old wounds.
I've never been one for reminiscing. What's the point of looking back when you can't do anything to change the past? So when my only friends from high school, Kate and Shuri, insisted that I go with them to our high school reunion, I resisted at first. Mostly because I hate to reminisce, yes, with the trophies in the hallways that have their names on them, art projects by other students, and teachers that know every student's name but mine. I always came second place. And you know what they say about second place, don't you?
Second place is the first to lose.
So no, I certainly did not want to go to our high school reunion. And that was before I even considered the fact that both of my ex girlfriends would be there.
I'd dated Natasha first. Strong, quiet, and overly protective. I loved that about her. How she would walk silently next to me in the hallways, her hand in mine, mean mugging anyone who dared look in my direction. I was hers, and everyone knew it.
Well, except for Conrad Hillsby. He tried to fuck me at a party sophomore year, and Natasha completely lost her shit. Turned into a little arsonist and everything, threatened to burn the house down if he didn't open the door he'd locked and let me out. He did so quickly when he saw the flame of her lighter through the cracks in the door. Natasha stormed in, walked straight to me and checked to make sure I was okay. I was half naked, clutching my ripped top to my breast and shivering as she caressed my skin, looking for injuries. When she knew I was alright, except for my top, she turned around and socked Conrad in the face. Then she scooped me up in her arms and carried me out of his bedroom door, throwing her lit lighter onto his bed over her shoulder. She was smug as we heard Conrad swearing and stomping all the way out his front door.
He never pressed charges. Conrad's rich parents would have cut him off if they found out he threw a party after they worked so hard to get him out of jail time for his third underage DUI, so when his parents assumed that he'd been smoking in bed, he took their grounding instead of telling them the truth.
Natasha and I broke up right after sophomore year ended. She said that she didn't have feelings for me anymore, and the incident with Conrad was a big part of it. Not going to lie, that hurt. Everyone in school knew I only liked women. That was part of the fun for Conrad, trying to 'turn' me. But Natasha said she couldn't un-see me sitting there, half naked and crying, huddled against the headboard at the far end of Conrad's bed. She said she looked at me different after that day, and she couldn't live with looking at me that way for the rest of her life.
I was angry at first. Sad, definitely. I spent the first week of summer at home, with Shuri and Kate coming by to keep me company. They said it was only to use my pool in the summer heat, but I could see their eyes on me as I wallowed away in my sadness for the first part of summer.
Then my parents sent me to a summer camp for smarty-smart kids or something, and that's where I met Wanda. She was transferring to my school from a different school in the district that year, and we were both going to be juniors. We were stuck together like glue for the entire month we were at camp. Then we continued to see each other throughout the summer, and by the time junior year came around, we were dating.
One could say that I have a penchant for redheads. But the color of their hair is the only thing that Natasha and Wanda had in common. Unlike Natasha, Wanda is bubbly, energetic, and sweet. I mean, Natasha was sweet too, but Wanda is gentler. Like being wrapped in a warm, fuzzy blanket instead of being guarded by a large dog with razor sharp teeth.
Wanda always brought me lunch that she made at home. Not because I asked her to or because I wasn't eating, but because she liked to cook. She told me that she always had leftovers, and couldn't think of anyone better to eat them. And I gladly ate her lunches. She's a great cook, and I would have been stupid to turn any of that down. And when I had to get my appendix out right after Christmas break, Wanda was with me every day after school, reading to me, feeding me soup, and helping me stay on top of my schoolwork.
I went with her to junior prom, and it was amazing. Wanda looked beautiful in her dress, and we just danced and danced, all night. The only awkward part was that Natasha kept staring at us the entire night, but I tried to ignore her.
The Monday after prom weekend sucked, though. Wanda broke up with me. No explanation, no hesitation, just 'I'm breaking up with you' and that was it. Once again, Shuri and Kate were there to comfort me, but I was still sad.
The situation was not made better by the fact that a week after Wanda broke up with me, she and Natasha were walking the halls hand-in-hand. Wanda would shoot daggers at me every time I passed them, but Natasha would avoid eye contact all together. So I stayed clear of them for the rest of junior year.
Senior year they were still together, so I had Kate get me their class schedules so I could avoid them as much as I could. I had one class with Natasha and one class with both of them, but they were easy enough classes for me to avoid them.
I graduated a loner, with only Shuri and Kate to keep me company. My graduation party was the three of us going to a small diner called Murry's in the Upper East Side. We exchanged gifts, and I even allowed them to reminisce on some memories. Admittedly, they were pretty good ones. But I told them that now that we've graduated, I wasn't looking back.
So color me surprised when they were surprised when I said no to our ten year reunion.
"So much time has passed!" Kate argued as she dug through her closet for a dress to wear. "No one but you remembers how you fumbled the Quizbowl State Championships."
"Or how you fumbled the last Lacrosse game of our freshman year," Shuri added with a smile.
"Except for the fact that the two of you just threw those instances in my face." My eyes had rolled so far to the back of my head, I thought they'd get stuck.
The truth is, I wouldn't have minded going to the reunion, if only as another excuse to hang out with Shuri and Kate. We continued to be friends after high school and we're still as close as ever, but we have our own lives as adults, so we don't hang out as often.
The problem is that I know for a fact Natasha and Wanda will be there, and I know for a fact that they're still together. Natasha became a police officer, and very quickly made her way to detective. Now she works with the Special Victims Unit and has the highest closing percentage in the state. Wanda started her own Eco-friendly energy company, some sort of new technology that transforms the sun into energy, but her stuff is smaller, cheaper, and better to look at than solar panels. And when she participated in a press conference to talk about her new water filtration system, who was by her side but her devoted girlfriend of ten years, smiling and proud of her partner.
I don't like to hold grudges. In fact, I think the only people I hold grudges against are Natasha and Wanda, and I don't really even have a reason to hold anything against them. Wanda maybe, as she didn't give me any closure, but at least Natasha told me there weren't feelings there anymore. So why am I so afraid to see them in person again after all this time?
I've been contemplating that question for weeks, ever since Kate and Shuri started their little campaign to get me to go to the reunion with them. But even now, as I'm standing to the entrance to my old high school gym with my hands nervously shoved into the pockets of the same teal pantsuit I wore underneath my robes at my PhD graduation last year, I still don't have an answer.
Kate and Shuri have gone ahead, mingling with people we haven't seen in a decade, while I'm stuck frozen at the entrance. My eyes scan the gym, searching for the two women I don't want to see so I can be sure to avoid them. I spot them by the drink table, making small talk with Danny Corniglio and Trisha Duncan. My nose wrinkles as if I smell a bad shit. As if she can feel me staring, Wanda looks up and makes eye contact with me before I can make my face normal again. She smiles and waves at me. I turn and make a beeline for Shuri as fast as I can.
"Abort," I whisper as I approach her. "Abort, abort!"
"Abort what?" Shuri responds, using only the corner of her mouth to speak to me. "You're acting like a weirdo right now."
"Wanda saw me," I say, the back of my head itching as if she's looking at me still. "I will not be able to handle myself if either of them try to come and talk to me."
"Don't worry about it," Shuri shrugs, looking up and motioning to someone. "If they do, you know Kate and I have your back."
"Of course we do," Kate says, walking up. "But what do we have your back on?"
"She made eye contact with Sweet Red." Shuri says, gesturing to me. Senior year, people had taken to calling Wanda and Natasha Sweet Red and Sour Red, respectfully. The nicknames have obviously stuck, but them having cute nicknames makes me feel even worse.
"Oh, sweetie," Kate pouts and rubs my back. Her eyes flicker to something behind me and her face drops to stone, her eyebrows furrowed seriously. The itching at the back of my head stops, and I know Wanda is no longer looking at me. "We've got you taken care of, don't worry."
"I'm sure Wanda's still worried you're going to shoot her down from across the gym," Shuri chuckles, referring to gym class our junior year when Kate misjudged a target and almost hit Wanda with an arrow during our archery unit. Kate had the worst scores in that unit out of everyone, which is ironic because she got involved with the archery team at NYU and is now ranked one of the best archers in the country.
"I don't even have my bow in here." Kate shrugs, but the look on her face says she would probably take a shot at the Reds if she did have her bow here. Shuri snickers and bows her head. When she looks back up, her face is serious.
"Red alert," she mumbles, stepping in front of me. "Literally." Kate steps beside Shuri so they're both in front of me, and I peak around them to see Natasha and Wanda walking towards us. I turn my back to them and back up against my friends, silently feeling their reassuring presence on my back.
"Shuri, Kate," Wanda greets them, her voice sickeningly sweet. After a moment of silence, she says my name. "Y/N."
"How can we help you ladies tonight?" Shuri asks.
"We just wanted to come over and say hi. It's been a long time, afterall." Wanda responds.
"Well, you said it." Kate says bluntly. "Now goodbye."
"That's a lot of hostility, Bishop." Natasha says, her voice smooth and monotone.
"Yeah, well, both of you fucked with our best friend, so forgive us if we're not all sunshine and rainbows when we talk to you." Kate spits out. I struggle to hold in a laugh.
"We know," Natasha says, her voice turning regretful. "We were hoping that Y/N would show up tonight, even if we were almost certain she wouldn't. We⊠we wanted to apologize."
"Your apology is about ten years too late, and would be more for your sake than for hers," Shuri says.
"So walk your happy little asses away from us and forget you know Y/N before I make you forget." Kate growls.
"Woah, Kate, slow your role," I say, turning slightly to place my hand on her back. "That was a little much."
"Sorry," Kate mumbles, more to me then to the Reds. "I'm just super hyped."
"I appreciate it, but please. Ex-nay on the eat up-bay. I'm not trynna have you get arrested and have me stuck with them."
"Excuse me?" Wanda chuckles, leaning back slightly. My eyes flicker up to hers and she shakes her had at me. "You're really that uninterested in speaking with us?"
"There's a reason I've been avoiding every return to school function since graduation," I say quietly. "And it's not because Jimmy Cordova 'spikes' the punch bowl at every function he can go to."
"Please just talk to us," Natasha whispers. My eyes dart to hers, and I see something in her eyes that makes my insides jump.
Natasha Romanoff, the woman with no regrets, has the most regretful look in her eye I've ever seen.
"The word 'talk' implies a two-way conversation," I say, turning back around. "And I have nothing to say to the two of you."
Silence follows my words, and I imagine my friends having an intense stare-off with the Reds. After a few moments I hear the sound of footsteps walking away, and I feel my friends turn back towards me, so I turn to face them.
"Thanks for having my back," I say, offering them a smile. Kate smiles back while Shuri grips my shoulder comfortingly.
"Always, Y/N." Shuri says. "You're our friend. We look out for each other."
"I'm glad I have you guys." I sigh. "But all this excitement has made me need to pee. I'll be right back."
"Wait, one of us should go with you," Shuri says, stepping forward.
"I think I can handle the bathroom on my own, guys, thanks. Just keep an eye on the Reds for me." I look over at my exes. Wanda is halfheartedly taking to someone I don't remember. Natasha is by her side, but she's looking at me. "They might try something when they see me separated from the pack."
"We've got you." Kate nods. "Go ahead." I nod a thank you and make my way out of the gym and down the hall to the bathrooms.
Admittedly I lose track of time, sitting on my phone watching TikToks of someone's shop cat wearing custom safety goggles. The door to the bathroom opens and two pairs of footsteps walk in. I watch as a pair of stilettos walks past my stall door and stands on the other side, while a pair of nice loafers stands on the other.
"Hurry up and finish shitting so we can talk to you." Wanda says from where the stilettos stand, a sound much harsher than how she usually speaks coming out of her mouth. I roll my eyes and stuff my phone in my bra, wiping myself and pulling my clothes back on before I walk out of the stall to the sink to wash my hands.
"I wasn't shitting," I say. When my hands are nice and clean I shake them in the air and head to the door. "Like I said, I don't have anything to say to you." I reach for the door and pull, but Natasha's strong hand slams on the door, pushing it closed.
"Please," she says quietly, pressing her body close to mine so she can whisper in my ear. "Let us explain."
"There is nothing to explain," I respond. "Why can't you guys just leave me alone? You're happy and in love with each other, I get it. I really don't want it shoved in my face."
"It's part of my twelve step program," Natasha sighs, her breath causing the loose hairs by my ear to sway. "After high school some⊠things were gnawing at me. I started drinking. It got bad. Wanda threatened to leave me over it a few times. And then she finally did, and I had to get sober. Part of that is making amends, and I need to make amends with you."
I stand at the door, my body completely still as I contemplate Natasha's words. I doubt anything she says will change how I feel, and I really don't want to hear her out, but I know I'm the better person. So I sigh and let my head hang.
"Okay." I say, but I don't turn around. "Make your amends."
"Please," she begs me, almost silent. "Look at me." I hesitate for another moment, trapping my bottom lip between my teeth. Then I turn around, my eyes looking down. Natasha's loafers are straddling my flats, trapping me in a way I haven't been trapped since Natasha and I were dating. Slowly I move my eyes upwards, getting a close up and personal look at how Natasha's body has changed over the past decade.
She's stronger, firmer in all the areas where it matters. Her arms are thick with muscle, and I'm sure her abs are rock hard under her dress shirt. Her shoulders are more defined, and her jaw is set but soft. When my gaze reaches her eyes I see sorrow and more regret.
"Tell me what you have to say, Natasha," I whisper. "I'm losing my patience."
"I lied to you." She says the words easily, but the tone in her voice tells me something else. Like she's been practicing the words, but it's still difficult for her to say. "When I broke up with you sophomore year."
"Natasha, that was a decade ago, I'm over it." I lie. But she shakes her head and presses her body closer to mine.
"There wasn't anything wrong with what happened at that party, not on your end. Conrad fucked up, obviously, but not you.
"The truth is that I felt unworthy of you after that night. Conrad's on again off again girlfriend Delia, you remember her? She cornered me in the kitchen when I left to get us drinks. She had me up against the counter, her hand on either side of me and her pelvis pressed up against mine. I admit, I was turned on and a little distracted, so I didn't fight as hard to get away. But I told her I needed to go, that I needed to find you, and at one point she got distracted and turned her head, her hand raising from the counter. I made a run for it. When I couldn't find you were I left you, I knew exactly where you would be."
"Natasha, I don't need-" I try to say, but she interrupts me.
"I ran up to Conrad's room, and all I could see was red." Natasha continues. "The lighter was in my hand before I even knew it. The threats of arson were out of my mouth before my brain could process them. And when I saw you on that bed, half naked and scared out of your mind, this uncontrollable fury came over me. My first priority was to check on you, obviously, but my next one was to beat the absolute shit out of Conrad.
"When I punched him, I knew I had to stop with one. If I kept going, I wouldn't have stopped until he was dead. Y/N, you were everything to me. And the way that you clung to me as I carried you out of his house⊠I knew I would do anything and everything to protect you.
"But over the next few weeks, all I could think about was how I let you down. If I had dragged you to the kitchen with me, if I hadn't gotten hot and bothered by Delia, Conrad would never have had the opportunity to torment you like he had. He wouldn't have left you with nightmares every time you closed your eyes, and he wouldn't have made it so I looked at myself differently in the mirror.
"I started to hate myself. I hated that I wasn't there to protect you. I hated that I wasn't strong enough to be the bigger person when I punched Conrad. I hated that I risked a life with you just so I could set his bed on fire as one more 'fuck you' to the guy. And I hated how tormented I was, when you were the one that had been through something tormenting and you needed me. I knew I wasn't there for you like I should have been, and that started to eat at me, too.
"So I broke up with you and told you it was because I couldn't look at you the same. But the truth is, that I couldn't look at myself in the same way. I had let you down, and I'd let myself down. And I was too much of a coward to tell you the truth, because I knew you would have wanted to stay with me anyway, and I couldn't let you do that. Not when you deserved someone better than me, someone who could actually protect you."
Natasha hangs her head and finally takes a breath. For the first time since I've known her, Natasha starts to cry. Against my better judgment, I place a hand on her chest, right between her breasts on her sternum. That always used to calm her down when she would get upset while we were together. Natasha's eyes snap up to meet mine, and I see a small flicker of hope dash through her pupils, like she's hopeful I'll forgive her.
"You're right," I say, curling my fingers over her sternum. "I would have stayed with you. It's something we could have⊠no, should have worked through together. And you're a cunt for not giving me the opportunity to decide for myself what I wanted for us." The hope in Natasha's eyes falls away, and I know she's feeling some distress. I decide to take the highroad, but take my time with it. I let her stew for a minute before I continue. "But I forgive you. You did what you thought was best. I guess I can't hold that against you." Natasha's eyes fill with relief and she lets out a breath.
"Wait on your forgiveness until you hear the next part." Wanda says. I look past Natasha's shoulder to Sweet Red. Her hip is cocked and her arms are crossed. Her face reads as upset yet uneasy, and I don't know why. But it sounds like I'm about to find out.
"Next part?" I ask Wanda, my eyebrow raised. Wanda looks at Natasha and nods, signaling that she wants Natasha to tell the story. Natasha opens her mouth to continue, but I raise my hand to her lips to stop her. "Does the next part have to do with our breakup, Wanda?" I ask. It takes her a moment, but she eventually nods. "Then you need to tell me."
"But-" Wanda starts, gesturing towards Natasha, but I shake my head, walking past Natasha and straight up to Wanda. Her arms fall to her sides as she backs up, and I keep going until Wanda's back is against the far wall and I'm invading her space.
"When you broke up with me Wanda, you just said that we were through, and that was it. I got no explanation, no warning, just a breakup with the most venomous tone I've ever heard come out of someone's mouth. So no, Natasha is not going to be the one to tell me why you broke up with me. That responsibility falls on your shoulders, Wanda. And you were the one who wanted to talk, so start talking." Wanda nods and takes a breath.
"I had the most magical night at prom, you have to know that." She starts. "Being there with you, dancing, letting Jimmy Cordova get us drunk and pretending we didn't know about it. Prom night was easily the best night of my life.
"That weekend, though? While you were with your grandparents? Natasha came over to my house. She told me that you had come to her a month prior, begging her to go to prom with you. Then you begged her to sleep with you because you missed her so much. I don't know why I believed her over you, I really don't have an excuse, but I did. I was so mad to hear you were trying t cheat on me, I didn't stop to think that I knew you would never do it. And then Nat was there to comfort me, and one thing led to another and we were together."
"I told her those lies to get back at you," Natasha says from behind me. "I saw how happy you were at Prom, how much fun you were having, and I hated that you were there having fun with someone that wasn't me. I wanted to ruin that happiness because I felt that if I was miserable, you should be, too." Natasha walks up behind me and places her hands on my shoulders, leaning down to smell my hair. "Dating Wanda after, that was just to hurt you more at first, and I'm sorry for that, too."
"Well neither of you are forgiven for that." I say, anger rising inside me. I shake Natasha's hands from my shoulders and twist my body so I'm behind Natasha and facing both of them now. Natasha turns so they're both looking at me. I point at Wanda. "You for believing someone you didn't know over me, and you," I point at Natasha, "for ruining my happiness a second time after you're the reason it was ruined the first time." I back up to the door and place my hand on the handle. Neither women move. "Maybe one day I can forgive you. But I lied earlier. I am still mad. And I'll forgive you when it serves me, not when it's convenient for your absolution." I push down the handle of the door, open it, and slip out, making my way quickly back to my friends.
Over the next few weeks I go on with my life, going to work at the lab and hanging out with Shuri and Kate when they're available. We went to brunch the day after the reunion and I told them everything that happened in the bathroom. Kate was pissed beyond belief, but Shuri was a lot more level-headed than Kate. They care about me in different ways, and I'm glad I have friends who have my back.
But I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about Natasha or Wanda since the reunion. They were both the loves of my life at one point, I know that for sure. And I could have lived with the anger over what happened having never spoken to them about it over the knowledge that they bestowed upon me at the reunion. It makes it harder to concentrate at work, harder to sleep at night, and harder to be honest with my friends bout my feelings.
Then, about a month and a half after the reunion, an intern at my work comes into my lab with an envelope addressed to me. I ask him who dropped it off.
"A spicy red head with a real attitude when I told her that she couldn't talk to you." He says, the corners of his mouth turning up. I have him set the envelope on my desk, knowing it's Wanda who dropped it off. I try to finish what I'm doing, but I can't focus. I sigh and rip my gloves from my hands, tossing them in the trash. I take the envelope and lean back in my chair.
The envelope itself is drenched in some sort of lavender scent, and I mean drenched. My name is written in Wanda's perfect hand writing on the front of the envelope, and there's a nice, sophisticated wax seal on the back. I break the seal and slip the note out from the envelope.
Y/N, the note says. It took me a long time to find out where you work to deliver this letter, so the least you could do is read it. Listen, Natasha and I are truly sorry for how our respective relationships with you ended and how ours began. We haven't been able to stop thinking about it. We talk about it constantly, and it has affected out sex life greatly, to my dismay. Anyway, the point is that we would like for you to come to dinner with us tonight. The same night this letter is delivered to you. Meet us at Corbella's tonight 8 p.m. We will talk about everything and discuss a way to make it up to you. Wanda.
I stare at the letter for a long time. Do I want to meet them? I'm not sure. A part of me feels like I don't need it, but another part of me knows that if I don't go, I'll be thinking about it, just like I've been thinking about it for the past six weeks. So I decide to go and let whatever is going to happen just happen.
I leave work at around 7:30 p.m with no time to go home and change. I'm wearing a nice pair of slacks, a dress shirt, and a blazer, so probably too fancy for Corbella's, but it's what I've got. I make it to the restaurant right before 8 and greet the hostess, opening my mouth to tell her who I'm there to see.
"Y/N!" Wanda says from a few tables away. Natasha's back is to me, but she turns when Wanda says my name. I thank the hostess and make my way slowly to the table. Natasha stands and pulls out a seat for me, and I thank her awkwardly. When Natasha sits back down, there's silence.
"Thank you for meeting us," Natasha says, breaking that silence. "It can't have been easy for you to come here."
"It's not," I admit. "I'm not really sure that you two deserve the time of day."
"And that's completely valid," Wanda nods. "But I'm glad you came anyway."
"See, we haven't been able to stop thinking about reunion weekend." Natasha says, adjusting her position in her chair. "I know that I feel absolutely terrible about everything I did to you, and I want to make it up to you."
"We both feel terrible, and we both want to make it up to you." Wanda says. "So we have a proposition for you."
"A proposition?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Wanda nods.
"During our⊠discussion on the reunion and what happened in high school, Wanda and I have come to realize that we still have very deep feelings for you." Natasha says. "So we would like to invite you back to our place for a night together, the three of us."
"And if you like it," Wanda says, "being with both of us, I mean, then we discuss what happens from there."
I stare down at my hands, unsure of what to say. The logical answer is no, don't get involved in their shenanigans. But I am largely not a logical person. I mean yes, for my job I am, but in my personal life I typically lean more on my emotions. And right now, my emotions are telling me to fuck dinner, fuck a conversation, and literally fuck the two people sitting with me at this table right now. So I quietly agree.
"What was that?" Wanda asks, almost surprised.
"I said yes," I say, just a little louder. I look up and make eye contact with Wanda, then with Natasha. "I don't know if anything will come out of it, but I think it would be a mistake to say no."
"Oh," Natasha says, sitting back in her seat.
"'Oh'?" I say, repeating her word back to her. "Is that all you have to say? Was it just an empty offer, something to make the two of you feel better about yourselves and laugh about later after I leave here?"
"Oh, no, not at all!" Natasha sits upright again, waving her hands in an x-like motion. "Honestly, I thought it'd be a lot harder to get you to agree, that's all."
"Oh," I say again, settling back into my seat and let my hackles lower themselves again. "Sorry."
"No, don't apologize," Wanda says, reaching out for me. I instinctively pull away, and when she pauses, so do I. After a moment I reach out and take her hand gently. Wanda squeezes my hand and smiles at me, and Natasha places her hand on my knee. I look over at her, slowly sliding my other hand on top of hers.
"Why don't we get out of here?" Natasha whispers, and it isn't a question.
It starts slowly. When the door to the Reds' very impressive penthouse apartment closes, Wanda offers to take my blazer. I shrug it off and let her take it. I watch her walk it over to the coat closet, but get distracted by Natasha walking up to me. I turn to face Natasha as she places her hands on my face, and I lift my hands to grab her waist. When Natasha looks at me, I can see the tension that's built up over a decade. All I want to do is release it.
When Natasha lowers her lips toward mine, I don't pull away. I close my eyes and tighten my grip on her shirt, lifting my chin slightly so my lips can meet hers.
Natasha is calm and soft, a stark difference to how she used to be. But when our lips touch, it's magical, a release that's been built up for a long time, maybe since before we broke up. Her tongue plays with my lip, not looking for permission to enter just yet, but gearing up for when she wants to make a move. I don't beg her for it, not yet. I just relish in the slow pace of catching up with an old lover.
Wanda comes up behind me and slides her hands around my waist, pulling herself close to me. I feel her pelvis press against my ass as one of her hands rides up my side and over my shoulder toward my neck. Wanda gently pushes my hair away from my neck and places her lips against my skin. Her hand moves back down to my waist as she takes another step forward, pushing me flush against Natasha's body and trapping me between them. My chest tightens as I feel their combined body weight against mine, and I moan against Natasha's lips when Wanda nips at the skin of my carotid.
Breaking the kiss with Natasha I turn my head and look at Wanda. She lifts her head to meet my gaze, and in that moment I realize something. Natasha is the love of my life, but Wanda is my soulmate. Both have enormous feelings attached to them, but the love is different, and they're meant to love me in different ways. But I don't want to lose either of them.
I remove my hand from Natasha's waist and slowly raise it to rest on Wanda's face. She leans into my hand, her lips puckering against my palm as she closes her eyes. I slide my hand toward the back of her neck as I lean in and take her lips with mine. Wanda welcomes me, sliding a hand up the front of my body and over my breasts. Her hand comes to rest on my neck, her fingers curling slightly so her fingernails just barely graze my skin.
Natasha runs her fingers through my hair and kisses my temple. She slides her fingers under the waistband of my pants and presses her fingers into the divots on my hipbones, making me squirm. I can hear the amusement in her voice as she lets out a chuckle.
"Still gets you hot, I see," Natasha mumbles against my hair. "Should we see what else gets you going?" I grunt quietly against Wanda's lips, my one hand tightening in her hair and the other sliding up Natasha's body, grabbing tightly to her shirt collar. Natasha accurately takes that as a yes and bends slightly, cupping her hands under my ass and lifting me into the air. My kiss with Wanda breaks as Natasha lifts me, and I cling to her as Natasha kisses Wanda. I watch the passionate exchange, a little surprised that I'm not jealous. I place a hand on the back of Wanda's head, but she doesn't need any encouragement to kiss her girlfriend.
Natasha breaks away from Wanda and starts walking deeper into the apartment. Wanda rushes forward and opens a door for Natasha that leads into a large room with a California King bed and a beautiful view of New York City. Natasha lays me down on the bed and crawls on top of me. Her lips connect with the pulse point on my neck and I instinctively buck my hips as I slide my legs up to rest on either side of her hips.
Wanda sits down a foot or so away from me, bending down to kiss me. My left hand snakes into Natasha's hair as my right grips tightly to their comforter as Wanda places a hand on my arm to steady me. Wanda isn't as patient as Natasha and slides her tongue across the part in my lips, begging for entry. I part my lips for her and let her inside, which awakens something else entirely in Sweet Red. She becomes aggressive, almost feral as she kisses me, her tongue with a mind of its own.
My focus keeps slipping between Wanda's lips and Natasha's, especially when the latter has started kissing down my neck toward my collar bone. When she reaches my shirt she removes her lips from my skin. I turn my head and look at Natasha as she sits up on her knees, Wanda moving to lay down completely on the bed now that our lips aren't in contact. Wanda plays with my hair as I watch Natasha's face, her hands sliding down my chest. Sour Red grips my shirt at the neckline then forcibly rips my shirt apart, buttons flying everywhere as she exposes my body. Natasha's eyes light up as she looks at me, her hands flying to cup my breasts through my bra.
"God I missed these," Natasha sighs, squeezing my breasts with enthusiasm. Her eyes dart up to mine, a smirk on her face. "And how you moan when your nipples are pinched."
"Oh, I love the sounds she makes." Wanda agrees, leaning in to nip at my earlobe.
Watching Natasha admire me makes my stomach flutter. I bolt upright in the bed and grab her face in my hands, kissing her fiercely. Natasha laughs through the kiss, but kisses me back. I shrug off what's left of my shirt and focus my attention back on Natasha, completely desperate for her. I feel Wanda's hands on my back as she unhooks my bra and I shrug that off, too, now half naked in front of the two of them.
Wanda starts rubbing her hands up and down my back, sitting behind me with her legs on either side. She starts placing kisses down my spine, and I let one of my hands fall to her leg. Wanda tightens her grip on my shoulders as Natasha's tongue slips between my lips. I practically swallow her tongue as she shoves it inside my mouth, begging her for more.
Natasha pushes me against Wanda, wanting me to lay back. I fall against Wanda's chest as she scoots back a little, giving me room. When I'm laying fully against Wanda's chest, Natasha reaches out and takes one of my nipples between her fingers. I let out a small moan, just like Natasha said I would. She smirks and leans down, taking my other nipple in her mouth. My moan grows louder, and Wanda leans down to quiet me.
My noises muffle against Wanda's lips, but the don't stop. Leaning against her at an angle I arch my back, shoving my nipple deeper into Natasha's mouth. She nips at my bud, at the sane time pinching my other one. I gasp into Wanda's mouth, and she sticks her tongue inside my mouth. I close my lips around Wanda's tongue and suck. Wanda reaches up and places a hand on my face, sighing over her tongue.
Natasha moves lower on my body, trailing kisses from my breast down my stomach, stopping every once in a while to nip at my skin. My body jerks every time her teeth prick my flesh, which just eggs her on even more. As Natasha kisses my lower stomach her hands fiddle with my slacks, unbuttoning them and pulling them down my legs. I lift my hips so she can easily slide my pants off, and I know that I'm already soaking for her.
As soon as Natasha discards my pants she untucks her shirt, calmly undoing the buttons and shrugging off the fabric to reveal more skin. I break my kiss with Wanda and glare at Natasha.
"I think you should let me rip your shirt off, Sour Red." I say, boosting myself up on my elbows. "You ruined my favorite shirt, I think it's only fair."
"Fuck your shirt," Natasha chuckles as she leans in, kissing me to shut me up. I moan into her lips, bringing my hand and tangling my fingers in her hair. After a minute I place my hand on her bare stomach and push her back, sitting up.
"Fuck your shirt." I growl playfully, turning around the face Wanda. Natasha scoffs, but I ignore her. I go for Wanda's neck, cupping one side with my left hand and sucking the other side of her neck. Wanda moans right in my ear and my stomach clenches. I raise my right hand to Wanda's back and slowly unzip her dress before sliding my hand back up the skin over her spine. She's not wearing a bra, and I sigh against her neck.
Natasha reaches out and places a hand on my waist, and I reach back and slap it away. She chuckles and moves closer to me, pressing the front of her body against my backside. She wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me to her, effectively pulling Wanda closer to me. Natasha kisses my neck from behind as I suck on Wanda's.
Wanda shrugs her shoulders, allowing her dress to fall from her frame and bundle at her hips. I press my breast against hers, and Wanda breathes heavily at the contact. My right hand trails around the front side of Wanda's body and trails up the inside of her leg toward her core.
"I don't wear panties, either." Wanda whispers into my ear, and I can hear the smirk in her voice. "Didn't want you to be surprised when you got there." I bite down hard on her neck and Wanda gasps, her hand flying up to rest on my left arm.
As my fingers skim the soft skin of Wanda's inner thigh, Natasha dips her hand below my panties and teases my clit, using her finger to place pressure right above my slit. I inhale against Wanda's neck, the sudden pressure sending more shivers through my stomach.
My fingers finally reach the apex between Wanda's legs, slick with heat. I refrain from diving straight in and tease her a little first, sliding the tip of my finger up her slit, barely parting her lips. Wanda exhales and grips my arm tighter. Natasha takes the hint and drops her finger lower, dragging it through my folds and gathering up my wetness on her fingers.
My lips pop off of Wanda's neck as I breathe deeply, Natasha's fingers placing heavy pressure on my clit. I press my face into Wanda's neck, trying to focus my brain just enough so I don't leave Wanda hanging while Natasha pleasures me. I breathe deeply into the crook of Sweet Red's neck as I let my fingers explore the area between her folds, finding exactly which spots are the most sensitive as Natasha does something similar to me.
Natasha's fingers find their way inside me, two at a time, and I let out a moan as I let my fingers find a home inside Wanda. Sweet Red moans with me, turning her head to press her lips against my temple. She breathes into my ear, and we start to breathe together.
Natasha doesn't start easy with me, pumping her fingers in and out of me and a harsh, steady pace right from the get-go. Her free hand moves my hair so it falls over my left shoulder before gripping my waist again, holding me in place. Then she starts sucking on my neck, biting hard and leaving marks along my neck. Her fingers curl inside me, finding the spot inside me that makes me moan the loudest. She pushes her fingers deep inside me, so deep I'm afraid she's going to tear me apart, aiming to hit that spot every single time.
I take a different approach with Wanda. With her I'm slow, methodical. I gently push my fingers inside her, curling them at the end and scraping my short nails against the inside of her walls. She seems to love it, thrusting her hips into my hand as multiple high whines escape her throat. Wanda maneuvers her head to take my lips in hers, moaning into my lips as I finger fuck her. At one point she pulls back, breathing heavily onto my lips, which I find extremely attractive.
Natasha moves closer to me, pressing her breasts into my back to get a better angle to fuck my pussy with. I place a quick peck on on Wanda's lips before I turn my head slightly to address Natasha.
"If you're going to press up against me, Sour Red, I'm going to need that bra to come off." I give her a smirk, though I don't know if she can see it. I hear her chuckle and I instantly regret saying anything. Natasha removes her fingers inside of me. I grown in frustration as I feel the empty space she's left with the removal of her fingers, but Wanda quiets me by taking my lips in hers again.
Without being able to feel Natasha, I can focus solely on Wanda. I start moving my fingers again, feeling the large bundle of nerves inside of her with my fingers. Wanda's noises start getting louder and more frequent, and I know that she's getting close. I start to pick up the pace to match her breathing, and now Wanda's hand is clutching my face, sitting directly over my ear with her fingers gripping my hair.
Natasha comes back into the picture as Wanda approaches her climax, her bare breasts pressing against my back. I sigh into Wanda's lips as Natasha's hand slips around my waist and her fingers find their way back under the waistband of my panties and inside of me. She starts thrusting roughly into me, pressing her thumb against my clit for a little extra pressure.
"Is this more to your liking, Princess?" Natasha asks, her tone teasing. I buck my hips in response and Natasha chuckles. "Good. Now I want you to cum with Wanda. We both know she's close. I want you to finish at the same time." I glance up at Wanda who is looking past me, presumably at Natasha. Her mouth hangs open, but the corners of her lips are tilted upward in a smile.
"Then do your job," I tease back, pumping faster into Wanda to help her get over the edge. Natasha chuckles into my ear as she works my pussy hard, and now I'm as close to the edge as Wanda is. Now I'm looking at Wanda as she's looking at Natasha who paying attention to me with her lips on my earlobe. The three of us are completely connected as Wanda and I cum together, our screams so loud I'm afraid we'll shatter the windows.
Natasha pulls her fingers out of me as I pull my fingers out of Wanda, bringing my fingers to my lips to taste them.
"Just as sweet as a decade ago," I say quietly, and Wanda's eye flash to me. "I see now why they call you Sweet Red."
"I always hated that nickname." Wanda growls as she grabs me by the neck, not hard enough to suffocate but just enough to get a grip. She flips me onto my back on the bed and straddles me, leaving me to look up at her with an incredible view of her beautiful, bouncing breasts. Wanda grabs her wrinkled dress still bunched at her waist and lifts it over her head, leaving me looking at the entirety of her naked body. She holds out her hand to her side. "The strap, baby. I want it."
"Which one, baby?" Natasha asks without missing a beat. She walks over to a cabinet a few feet away from the bed and tosses the doors open, looking through it. "What size are you feeling tonight? The pink one, the blue one," Natasha gasps and reaches into the cabinet, pulling out a large, green dildo. It's bigger than I've ever seen before, and I wonder if that thing even fits inside Wanda. And if it does, how the hell does she stay so tight? "How about the green one?"
"No, I don't think Y/N is ready for the green one," Wanda says, sliding the palm of her hand down my breast and to my stomach. "We'll have to go with something smaller."
"Yeah, that thing isn't fitting inside of me," I chuckle nervously. Wanda lets out a short laugh.
"Oh no, honey, that one isn't going inside of you." Wanda leans down and kisses me, soft and sweet. "You're going to fuck me. You're going to watch as I ride you, as you draw out another orgasm from me, as you make me feel like you used to." Wanda kisses me again, cupping my face this time. I kiss her back, resting my hands on her hips. When Wanda pulls back she speaks to Natasha again without looking away from me. "I want the orange one, Natty. The one you were saving for our anniversary?"
At the word 'anniversary' I flinch, unsure if Natasha would be irritated that I was going to be the one using her special anniversary dildo for the first time. But she doesn't. She places the green one back in the cabinet and removes an orange one, about half the size of the green one but still pretty large, as well as a harness to attach it to. She walks over to us as she attaches the dildo to the harness and holds it out for Wanda. Sweet Red takes it and slides off of me before placing the strap on my chest.
I take the harness and get up from the bed, holding the harness in my left hand as I use my right to shimmy out of my panties. I toss them at Natasha who grabs them out of the air and tightens her fist around them with a smile. I smile back as I pull the harness up my legs and around my waist, tightening the waist to fit me just right.
I don't even have time to think before Wanda's mouth is on mine and she's pushing me onto the bed again. I don't fight her, just fall back onto the comfy surface and get myself settled into a good place. Wanda doesn't waste time, taking the dildo in her hand and swiping it between her folds to wet the tip before inserting it inside herself. She sits down slowly, her mouth open wide as she fills herself with the orange appendage. When it's fully inside her she starts to move, grinding on my pelvis like her life depends on it. I place my hands on her hips, helping her move comfortably on top of me.
Wanda places her hands on my stomach as she moves, tracing her fingers up and down my skin. Then she starts to bounce on the dildo, her breasts seeming to defy gravity. I grip her hips tighter, my clit gaining stimulation every time Wanda comes down. I can't stop staring at her face; how her mouth hangs open, how her nose and mouth look so relaxed, how her hair falls around her face and sticks to her temples from the sweat.
Then my view of Wanda is blocked by a completely naked Natasha as she straddles my face, adjusting to make herself comfortable. I pout and playfully smack the outside of her thigh.
"You're blocking my view," I say quietly, looking up at her.
"Yeah, Natty, I want her to look at me as I cum," Wanda says, her breath heavy as she continues griding on me. "That was the plan."
"Then you're going to have to hold it, Wands." Natasha says as she lowers herself onto my face. "I need a little taste of Y/N, too." Then Natasha completely sits, her pussy matching up perfectly with my lips.
As soon as I get a taste of Natasha, I melt. My hands grip Natasha's hips as I pull her closer to me, my tongue diving between her folds with vigor. Natasha starts to ride my face, gripping the bed frame to steady herself. She hangs her head, eyes closed and mouth open in pleasure as her clit scrapes against my tongue.
On my bottom half Wanda slows down, presumably to keep her orgasm at bay while Natasha has her fun. That doesn't stop her from running her hands up and down my stomach and trying to moan louder that Natasha. Wanda's hands travel up my stomach and over my breasts, her fingertips dancing on my nipples. I moan into Natasha's pussy as Wanda's fingers twist around my buds, my tongue flicking between Sour Red's folds.
Natasha opens her eyes and looks at me, a smile spreading across her lips as her hips gyrate on my face. I find her hole and push my tongue quickly inside, causing her to gasp and let out a little chuckle. My nose twitches as my mouth tries to smile, but I ignore it and flick my tongue inside her.
"How close are you, baby?" Wanda asks as she places one of her hands halfway over mine on Natasha's hip. "I'm close, and I don't want Y/N to miss this."
"Give me a little time, sweetheart," Natasha says, her voice gravely in her throat. "You've already gotten to cum once today and I haven't. It's been twelve years since I've had Y/N's tongue on me, I want to savor it."
"Natty," Wanda whines, and Natasha whips her head to look back at her girlfriend.
"Don't be greedy, Wanda." Natasha growls. "This doesn't work if you're greedy." I can't see Wanda's face but I can hear her panting as her hand slides from mine on Natasha's hip. I start to work my tongue faster, focusing more on Natasha's clit to help her get to her orgasm faster. I don't want to disappoint either of them, and that means making Natasha cum before Wanda does.
Natasha grunts and moans as she gets closer to her release, one of her hands coming down from the headboard and twisting into my hair. She grasps my hair tightly and pulls my head deeper towards her pussy. I don't fight her and just focus on working my magic.
Natasha's orgasm is magical. She starts moaning first, and I know that's my warning sign to take a deep breath. So I inhale through my nose and dig my nails into Natasha's hips. I'm glad I followed my instincts as Natasha's release starts to spill out of her and her legs tighten around my head. There's no way I would have been able to stay under her for very long if I hadn't taken that breath. But I let Natasha jerk and moan as her juices seep onto my tongue and face, not wanting to rush the best part.
When Natasha is spent she lifts a leg and moves off of me. I can hear Wanda panting with excitement as Natasha moves her body, but before I can fully see Wanda, Natasha leans down and kisses me, swiping her tongue across my bottom lip to gather up some of her juices. Our kiss is wet and sloppy, and I can't tell if it's from all the saliva or if it's from Natasha's cum. In the end it doesn't matter, of course. All that matters is that Natasha is kissing me again.
Finally.
When she moves out of the way so I can see Wanda again, Sweet Red collapses on top of me, holding my face in her hands as she kisses me too. I slide my hands up her naked back and let my fingers tangle in her hair. Wanda kisses me like it's her job, like she's got nothing else to do in this world but kiss me as she moves her hips on the orange dildo inside of her.
"I thought you wanted me to watch," I say breathlessly during a quick break for air.
"Fuck watching me cum," Wanda growls as she goes for my lips again. "There will be time for that again. But I want you too damn bad right now to not kiss you."
So I shut up and kiss her. Wanda whines into my mouth as she teeters the edge of ecstasy, her body hot with need. I keep one of my hands in her hair and bring the other one down to her ass, grabbing a handful of her backside and squeezing tightly. Wanda jiggles her ass for me a few times before she takes one of her hands and brings it down to her clit, giving herself some extra stimulation.
It's not too long after that Wanda lets go. She practically screams into my lips, the hand that's on her clit coming back up to grab tightly onto my hip for support. I wrap my arms around Wanda's back and hold her close to me, not wanting to let her get away. Wanda doesn't stop kissing me as she jerks on top of me, desperate to stay connected. I, too, want to stay connected to her and let her be the first one to break away.
When she finally does, she doesn't go very far. She slides off the dildo onto the bed next to me, panting hard. I place my hand on her upper thigh and give it a squeeze, telling her that I'm right there with her.
Natasha comes crawling on the bed, grabbing the harness for the strap and loosening it so it falls more easily from my waist. When she has it off of me she puts it on herself, tightening it to fit her. Then she crawls between my legs and leans over me.
"I always wanted to do this with you," Natasha says, stretching her neck to kiss my cheek. "But my foster mom would never have agreed to take me to get a strap to use on you. So we're just going to have to use it now."
"NatashaâŠ" I start, but she's inside me before I can finish. The dildo slips easily inside of me, my wetness mixing with Wanda's last release. I lean my head back and moan as Natasha pushes inside of me, my hand tightening so hard around Wanda's thigh that my nails start to draw blood. Wanda moans next to me and starts running her hand up and down my arm.
"How does that feel?" Natasha asks, tilting her head to try and catch my gaze. "You like me inside of you, huh?" Sour Red bottoms out in me and I groan, nodding my head. "You like how I can fill you up and make everything else go away?"
"Yes," I moan, allowing my free hand to drift up and clutch her shoulder. Natasha pulls out of me slowly and adjusts herself, ready to dive back in. "Yes, Natasha, you feel so good inside me!"
"God, you were always a good fuck," Natasha groans as she slams the dildo back inside of me. "I'm glad to see that hasn't changed."
"Just shut the fuck up and kiss me," I growl, lifting my head off the pillow to offer my lips to her. Natasha doesn't need to be told twice, taking my lips in hers as she starts to move inside me. Each time she pulls out to the tip, and each time she pushes all the way inside me until our hips touch. I let her fuck me as we kiss, enjoying the feel of her filling me up to the fullest.
At one point Wanda stirs, twisting her body to press against my side so she can be closer to us. She starts to kiss my cheek, slow and sensually, rubbing her hand over my breast as her girlfriend fucks me from above. I turn my head away from my kiss with Natasha and capture Wanda's lips with mine, reaching my hand up to caress her face. Wanda moans into my lips as Natasha starts to kiss my neck, and a whole new feeling starts to well up inside me.
I break away from Wanda and push Natasha into a kneeling position, following her so she never falls out of me. I straddle her lap and give her a quick kiss before I looks back at Wanda. I hold out my hand to Sweet Red, who gladly takes it, and I pull her flush against me. Wanda wraps one of her arms around Natasha's back and sets the other on my hip as I lean my head back and kiss her. Wanda swipes her tongue against my top lip and I reach my hand back to grasp onto her neck.
Natasha leans down and starts kissing my clavicle as I slowly move my hips on her. Natasha starts leaving bite marks on my neck and across my chest as Wanda and I kiss. Noises start to involuntarily leave my throat as an orgasm starts to build deep within my gut.
I turn back to face Natasha. She glances up at me before slowly raising her head up to look at me head on. I wrap my arms around her neck and start to bounce on her. Wanda starts to kiss my spine as Natasha leans in, placing her lips on mine again. I let out a whine as Natasha grips my ass cheeks, slamming me hard on her strap every time I lift myself up.
"Fuck, Natasha, I'm close," I whisper, pulling away from Natasha's lips to lean into the crook of her neck. I rest my lips against her skin and close my eyes as the tension builds inside me. I feel Wanda take her lips off my back and lean in closer to me, then I hear the sound of Wanda and Natasha kissing. I can barely move my body between the two of them with how sticky I am with sweat, but I make it work.
One more final movement from Natasha ramming the dildo hard inside me as I come down on it and I let go. I scream into Natasha's neck as I cum, listening to the sound of Sweet and Sour Red moaning against each other's lips. I shake on top of Natasha, and Wanda moves her hands to wrap around my waist to steady me. When I'm completely spent I fall back against Wanda's chest, and she catches me gracefully. I close my eyes and breathe as Natasha moves out from under me, taking the dildo with her. I can feel my juices leaking out of me as Wanda leans down and kisses my temples.
"How are you feeling, Y/N?" Wanda asks quietly. "Did we make you feel just as good as you made us feel?"
"Absolutely," I nod without opening my eyes. "I missed this." I open my eyes then and look at her. "I missed you." I look over at Natasha. She's looking at me as she dries off the dildo by the cabinet. "I missed you, too."
"I think I speak for both of us when I say we missed you as well, Y/N." Wanda says. I look back at her as she smiles down at me. "Even when I thought you cheated on me, I loved you. Even with Natasha, I've still held onto love for you."
"I second that." Natasha says. When I look at her, she looks away sheepishly. "I love you both." She continues, fiddling with the strap. "Just in different ways. Not one more than the other, just⊠different."
"So what does this mean?" I ask, sitting up so I don't feel like I'm imposing on Wanda, but she just scoots right back up against me, her legs on either side of me and with arm around my waist and the other across my chest. I can feel her still dripping wet pussy against my lower back. I reach up and grab onto her arm near my chest and let my arm dangle. "Honestly, leaving here tonight is going to have me all sorts of fucked up."
"Then don't leave." Wanda says, kissing my neck. "Stay with us. Be a part of us. We can make it work."
"You really think that?" I ask, looking over at Natasha. She closes the cabinet doors and walks back over to the bed, hoping up on it and kneeling in front of me. She reaches out with one hand and cups my face.
"Absolutely we can." She nods. "You, me, Wands. It'll be how it was always meant to be." Natasha leans in and kisses me, and I realize she's right.
Summary: Itâs been weeks since the relationship between Wanda, Natasha, and you have felt the same. Lately, youâve been the only one trying to repair things. When they both come home late one night, you find out why theyâve started to distance themselves from you. Â
Warnings/Tags: angst, break-up, hurt no comfort, no use of y/n, age gap relationship, r in early to mid-twenties, wandanat in mid-thirties, avenger reader, extraterrestrial reader, superpowered reader, non-canon timeline, lots of cryingÂ
Word Count:Â 4.45kÂ
A/N:  enjoy as much as possible, i'll think about putting a part two out within the next couple weeks after requests and a couple other things! i might do a poll for a happy ending or a sad one. Â
Masterlist
Wanda and Natasha have been quiet lately. Itâs more than a period of reservation; youâve found that itâs a withdrawal from you and a pull to each other. Â
The first few weeks, youâd told yourself it was just work. Their unit had suffered a loss on their last mission, and they were still recovering all the while planning a flawless extraction for captured S.H.I.E.L.D agents. So, you picked up the slack around the floor. Instead of letting either of them handle meals or trouble themselves with cleaning up, you decided to shoulder it all.Â
Sometime after, you were assigned a solo mission with logistics that had quickly worn you down. Dealing with an influx of responsibilities as the teamâs trust in you grew, pushed you into various team meetings, conferences, court appearances, and briefings. Coming back to a home that had to be reconstructed together with your dedication to the Avengers had become increasingly demanding. You fell sick from overwhelming stress by the end of the month. Â
If Wanda or Natasha had noticed your never finished meals, thinning hair and frame, booming coughs, blemished and feverish skin, or inability to stay asleep, neither of them had said a thing. Internalizing it all, you turned back to slowly redistributing household tasks, eager to nurse yourself back to health and feel like a unit inside your own home again. Â
That feeling never came back. Â
You had all but withered away alongside them. For the last six weeks, you have approached them countless times looking for answers, a way to fix whatâs been broken between the three of you. Each time, they had no response. Your distance continued to grow, and your relationship fractured. Â
You couldnât remember the last time youâd fallen asleep together, lingered in bed and begged each other for five more minutes before training, gone on a date, or sat around your dining room table accompanied by anything but the sound of utensils against dishware. The hope that the damage wasnât irreparable had begun to dissipate. But you wanted to give it one last shot. Â
Itâs Saturday. Theyâd told you their visit to Mariaâs would be a few short hours, that theyâd be back in time for dinner, and like the idiot you wereâyouâd believed them. Only as you sat in the living room, waiting for the elevator to ding and F.R.I.D.A.Y. to announce their arrival, did you remember the last time they promised you a swift return and failed to uphold it. Â
You grew wary the first time it happened. Blew up their phones for an hour. It took you pinging them to make Natasha finally call back and tell you not to wait up. Itâs been five weeks since.Â
You thought you knew better, starting dinner at half past seven, nearly an hour after the time you agreed on, now that you had a grasp on their new habit. But even two hours later, both of them were a no-show. Â
You stared at your phone, curled into yourself on the couch, television off, eyes strained, and heart aching. The last text you sent stared back at you, the word âdeliveredâ sitting just under it. Â
Had they even thought about you? Â
The dinner you plated had lost its warmth an hour and a half ago, the wine cork was waiting to be popped, and dessert sat in the ice box waiting to be served. You were unsure whether it had begun to freeze or not. You didnât really care anymore. Â
You turned your phone off with a click and turned further into yourself. You knew this would be another night without any sleep, just endless thoughts about what youâd done wrong and how nothing you did would be enough to fix it if neither of them could show up for you. Â
A part of you knew this relationship was coming to an end, but there was no way you wanted to let go. Wanda and Natasha owned you; both heart and soul. If it was over, what would be left for you to claim? In your mind, rebuilding your identity, your routines, your humanity, was an impossible feat if they werenât beside you. Â
If they cut this love short, would you go back home? Would you leave Earth, the friends and family made, the memories and its innocent people, behind?Â
Before you could decide, a familiar ding and your favorite artificial voice sounded out across the floor. Your heart jumps as the smooth and heavy door of the elevator works itself open. The sounds of boots clicking and low conversation come to a stop, presumably, at the sight of you and the dining room. Your name is uttered softly by Wanda, and you flinch, readying yourself for the excuses to fall from their lips. Â
âDonât worry about dinner, Iâll put it up so you can have it after training tomorrow.â Your voice was muffled by the pillow youâd stuck yourself onto, but you knew theyâd heard you. Â
âWe justââ You cut Natasha off, sitting up quickly and facing the two of them. Your eyes were red, not from crying, only pure exhaustion. Â
âI don't want to hear any excuses tonight. I understand. Could we just go to bed?â Natashaâs mouth stayed open, unable to respond. Wanda gives you a stiff nod and takes Natashaâs hand, dragging her to the bedroom. Â
You follow behind them sluggishly, your palm itching as you stared at their intertwined fingers. Your eyes watered as you tried to recall the last time theyâd held onto you with such mindless affectionâout of habit even. You blew out a silent breath as you urged yourself to put away any feelings of discontentment for tonight. Â
Instead of stripping along with them in the center of the room, you venture into the walk-in closet and drag your own clothing off its hanger and out of the drawer. You hear the shower turn on, and your lips tremble at the thought of them getting in together, without you. A tear slips down your cheek as you attempt to withstand the feeling of being left out once more. Â
As they wash up, you trudge into the kitchen. Almost robotically, you pull out a container for each of you, all the tops color coded, and begin to push dinner from their plates into the glass bowls. Not having the energy, you rinse the dishes and leave them in the sink, place the wine back in its fridge, and wrap dessert up properly, expecting it to be eaten sometime tomorrow or placed in the teamâs common room when Wanda and Natasha didnât touch it.Â
Yelena and Sam would surely be the first to start devouring it. Â
A small smile builds as you imagine crumb covered mouths, and their pupils blown wide from true delight after having your planetâs equivalent of a sugar-loaded dessert bark. Â
You linger in the kitchen for a bit longer, nails tapping over the marble countertop as you stare blankly at the backsplash. It was made entirely of stones from the forests of your home. In the middle of the night, it glowed just enough to pull out the right snacks for you and Natasha to share when neither of you could sleep. Â
You missed the nights when Natashaâs eye would pop open minutes after your own. Sheâd slide out of bed and help you escape Wandaâs arms without waking her. Youâd patter down the hall all while discussing which snacks to munch on and what package would make the least sound. Â
Your breathing evens as you think of when youâd sit beside her, sometimes in her lap, as you spoke quietly about your dreams or plans for the next day. How, when your eyes drooped too low, sheâd carry you back to bed where Wanda would receive you two with open arms. Her body was always warmed by sleep and a weighted blue comforter. Â
Before them, you had never known a love so tender.Â
Now, your midnight journeys to the kitchen were taken alone. Natasha feigned sleep these nights, you felt the way her heart would beat erratically against your back when she had nightmares; you knew sheâd awoken when the light snores would change rhythm and vary too widely in volume. Somewhere along the way, you convinced yourself she wasnât avoiding being alone with you, she just didnât want to bother you or Wanda anymore. Â
Not wanting them to come looking for you, though you doubted theyâd seek you out, you shake yourself out of these thoughts and make your way back to the bedroom. Â
You wish youâd chosen the couch that night. Â
âSurely, you arenât serious?â Â
You feel yourself sway slightly at the sight of them. They looked snug as they cuddled up. The problem wasnât how comfortable they looked without you. As you approached the bed, you expected them to separate. Your place had always been between them. Natasha on your left, Wanda on your right, rarely had it ever changed. For either of them to avoid separating from each other, especially as you lifted the covers, made you break. Â
It was insulting, the expectant looks on their faces as Natasha patted the space beside her. You didnât want to be left on the edge of things anymore. If anything, the only ritual holding you together these last few weeks was the space they made for you at the end of the night. If you couldnât count on it during the day, there was always a pillow between them waiting for you at bedtime. Always. Â
âWhatâs wrong?â Â
Your hand clenched the fabric, arm still in the air as you stared in disbelief. âWhatâs wrong? You must be joking? Please, tell me you are joking and I will ignore it all tonight. Please.â Â
You watch as Wandaâs brows furrow, and she shakes her head lightly before responding. Â
âWe donât know what youâre talking about.â Â
âYouâre lying!â You throw the comforter down and back away from them. Their faces screw up at the action, and you canât help but feel even more wronged by their growing exasperation. Â
Natasha chooses to pacify you instead of fueling your anger, but there was nothing she could say that would truly calm you. âDetka, weâre tired. Canât you just get in bed for us?â Â
âIs that what you really want?â You stare at them. Â
Wandaâs green eyes widen at your inquiry while Natashaâs darken at what feels like an accusation. It didnât matter if they felt accosted by your words. You needed to let everything out, to understand what was going on. Such a small act of detachment has broken you. There wasnât a dam strong enough to withhold your emotions in this moment. Â
You suffered a healthy silence before the tears started pouring out.  Â
âI have existed on the outside of this relationship for weeks and now you cannot do me the service of a space in our own bed?â You gesture forward to their still tangled limbs. Â
Wanda sits up then. âNatasha just asked you to sleep beside us, Iâm not understanding what the issue is right now.â She runs a hand through her hair as she stares up at you. Â
Despite standing above them, you felt as though no power was within your grasp. There were feelings of undiluted rage, resentment, and offense ready to spill forth with no true strength to hold back or tone correct. Â
âI always sleep in the middle! That's my place! Itâs mine! And youâre taking it away from me.âÂ
Your chest heaved as you yelled at them. You knew how immature you sounded; you must appear like a petulant child, you think. Regardless of how upset you were, none of it was starting to come out as you hoped. You wanted to be taken seriously. Â
âItâs just one night, detka. Can we please justââ Natashaâs voice was grave, irritation started to creep into her tone, and it infuriated you. You were the only one here who deserved to feel annoyance in this situation. Your yelling was the least of what you felt compelled to do. Â
âBut itâs not just one night, Natasha. It is every day and then this night. What did IâCan you tell me what I did wrong? Please, I will fix it right now. I promise you.â Â
âHoney...â Perhaps Wanda began to feel your power bubbling under the surface, how unstable your mind had become, how fast youâd gone from yelling to pleadingânear groveling. You felt her resolve breaking before Natasha interrupted her. Â
âWe can discuss this in the morning. Here.â Natasha crawls out of bed and chucks open the blanket, throwing a careless hand towards its middle. âGet in bed.â Â
You wanted to scream. It was as though she was telling you to shut up, and you couldnât take it after their constant dodginess around this conversation. You were fed up with putting their fear of confrontation before your own heart. Â
âI donât want to have this talk in the morning. I want it tonight. Why are you avoiding me? This game of evasion is ruining me, and neither of you seem to care. Do I not matter to you anymore?â Â
Your hands clenched and unclenched as you looked between them, Wanda in front of you and Natasha beside, both unwilling to speak first. Â
âRight.â You nod and turn away. Â
You begin to pace with your eyes cast down, chest heaving, and power thrumming within your veins. You didnât want to appear as a threat to them, so you willed yourself to take deeper breaths and started counting. Â
âThatâs not whatâs happening. We care about you, itâs justââ Â
Wanda couldnât seem to come up with the words. Â
You scoff and speak half-seriously. âWhat? You donât love me anymore?â Â
The silence that followed was one that could kill. That couldnât be the truth. You wouldnât accept it. Â
âYou donât?â Your voice trembled as you asked her, then turned to Natasha, searching conflicted eyes and taking in hesitant lips. âAnd Natasha?â Â
âWe do.â She found her voice. Â
âThen say it.â Your power flickered about your frame, golden wisps and sparks pulsing in time with your racing heart. All of you was on edge, your senses had enhanced themselves without a thought, and it started to hurtâattempting to dampen them. You would fall apart if you didnât hear it from them. Â
âWe love you, detka. But we canât do this anymore.â You felt your heart break in an instance. Â
They watch as you stumble backward, unable to fathom whatâd been said. Your eyes began to flicker, your humanity began crumbling in front of them, and your foreign skin itched to be shed in the center of the room. Â
Weaved into Wandaâs explanatory tone was bits of trepidation, understanding of the fragile state you were in, and a knowingness that her softness was needed in such a moment. âNatasha and I have been talking, and we think itâs best if our relationship ends here. We want different things.âÂ
âNo, we donât. We want each other. Thatâs enough. You told me thatâs enough, so what do you mean âdifferent thingsâ?â You growled out, voice booming and falling between something human and something terrifyingly feral. Â
âWe want a baby. We want a family.â Natasha pushed out the truth through gritted teeth, her stature losing its perpetual strength. Â
So thatâs what this is about. Â
Your eyes dimmed, losing its glow to the revelation. âSo, what then? Youâve just been learning to live without me for six weeks? I told you that we could be a family, I just need time. Weâve talked about this again and again, and yet this is where we end up?â Â
âWeâre both getting older.â Natasha threw her hands up. âEarth is calm and most importantly, safe. Half of our team is building families outside of this tower. Everyone our age is getting married and having babies. We donât wanna wait anymore and you have so much of your life ahead of you. Youâll live for half a millennium, of course our life paths wonât align. Any family we build together wouldnât last a quarter of your lifetime. This is a reasonable decision. Please tell me you understand where weâre coming from.â Â
When you donât respond, she calls your name out softly, further imploring you to see things from their point of view. Â
You blinked as you took in the assassinâs words, a dull ache starting to settle somewhere in your chest. Your tears wet the fabric of your night shirt as you sniffle. Â
âThe both of you have spent nearly a decade together. I ask for three years, and you find yourselves impatient?â You eye both women, disregarding their looks of remorse as you talk. Â
âChildren change everything and you know this. I wanted to share a life with you before we started a family. Our second anniversary is next month, and you couldnât wait? I can't even say you shouldâve thought about this before you committed to me, because you didâwe did! All three of us have had endless conversations about what this means.â You gesture between you all. âBeing together. And you promised me our love would come above all. You agreed to this and now youâre throwing it back in my face and asking me to understand how youâre abandoning me because of FOMO? I canât believe this.â Â
âI thought this could work, but we want more, and itâs not something youâre ready for. We love you, malyshka. We didnât want to pressure you into this by giving you an ultimatum. We wanted to end this cleanly.â Wanda wanted you to trust theyâd never intended to hurt you, but you couldnât imagine this ending any differently. You were bound to be heartbroken; there was no easing this pain. Â
âThere was never going to be a way to end this cleanly. I love you. I donât want to leave our connection behind. We can start a family, as long as itâs with you, it doesnât matter. Please donât leave me. We can have a baby!â You cried into your hands. Â
Wandaâs next words are chosen carefully; nonetheless, they tear away at you more than she could know. âWeâre doing this for you, as much as weâre doing this for ourselves.â Â
âOur relationship wonât account for ten percent of your lifespan. You are bound to move past us.â Natasha adds. Â
You didnât know if it was an attempt to assuage your anguish or to alleviate the gross amount of guilt thatâd been choking them from the beginning. Â
âStop saying that! Stop thinking you know whatâs best for me.â Â
Your legs had finally given out, and you slumped to the floor with wet palms covering your ears. They both move as if to catch you before drawing back outstretched arms, finding themselves too far and too late.Â
No matter how enhanced your senses had become, the sheer volume of your own bawling drowns out the sounds of Wandaâs not-so-quiet tears. With you curled into yourself, there was no way to observe how this was wrecking them as well. Natashaâs hands shook violently by her side, she tries folding them together, wanting to hide it, needing it to stop, but there was no use. She sits on the edge of the bed and Wandaâs head immediately meets her back and within seconds her shirt is dampened. Â
Her hands cover her face, mirroring your earlier position, and her elbows rest on her knees, evidence of her pain wets her wrists while she shakes, silent cries rocking her body. Wanda and Natasha knew theyâd gone about this the wrong way. Over the weeks, it ate them alive to see your face fall after every shot at confrontation and reconnection. Â
The room was filled with shuddering breaths and sniffles as you three spent minutes collecting yourselves. None of you could look at each other, afraid of choking up again and descending into hysteria.Â
You were the first to speak. Â
âSince the day we met, I was prepared to love you both for every second lived. Youâre demeaning the worth of our relationship, in my life, without truly considering me. This isnât a matter of statistics, Natasha, itâs just love. I see a full life with you. Both of you will age. I understand that. I will always take care of you, our children, their children, and their families. I would commit an eternity to doing so if I had to. All I have asked for is time, and you couldnât wait another year before bringing this up again?â You stared vacantly at the wood floors, your fingers scratched at your pajama pants, and you hiccupped between words. Â
Wanda wiped her nose. It glowed a sickly red, rosy and stuffed up by mucus. âThat isnât fair to you. You should be with someone to fulfill you for the rest of your days. Natasha and I canât give that to you.â Her voice cracks at the end, and again sheâs in tears. Â
You raise your head to look at them now, eager to make them hear the way you yearned for them. The women wiped their faces constantly. Their skin grew more and more flushed from friction. It was a tragic sight, something you knew would stick with you forever.Â
âJust the mere thought of either of you is sustenance. I want you and thatâs all that matters. Please, think this through.â Â
Natâs voice was thick with emotion, no longer able to stay strong for anyone in the room. âWe have. For six weeks, we have.â Â
A drastic wave of passivity crashed over you, bringing you to terms with your inability to hold onto a devastating love. âSo, this is why you wanted to talk in the morning? A little more time to absolve yourselves of this guilt?â Â
They both shook their heads frantically, not wanting you to misunderstand them, but it was futile. Nothing would get through to you anymore. You felt listless. Your body had experienced severe emotional whiplash within the last three hours, and the last thirty minutes had effectively killed any light inside of you. Â
âWe wanted each of us to have a clear head.â The witch muttered ruefully. Â
âRight.â Your lips twitched. Â
Then, with all the strength you could gather, you lifted yourself up and padded into the bathroom. You looked through cabinets and drawers until you found what you needed. At some point, both Wanda and Natasha had made their way to the ensuiteâs entrance, watching with tear-stricken faces as you packed up your toiletries. Â
âWhat are you doing?â Wanda whispers, somewhat apprehensive after witnessing you, void of emotion, work around the counters. Â
âLeaving.â You zip up the bag and brush past them into the room, heading for the closet. Â
You find a step stool somewhere near the door and unfold it, already scanning for what you needed on the high shelves. Â
âWe can sleep in the guest room, you shouldnât have to leave.â Natasha offered, making an effort to provide you with some kind of familiar comfort after such an intense night. Â
You didnât reply. They would have each other in an unfamiliar room. There was no way you would fall asleep, wrapped in sheets that once held together the love of three, alone. Â
Only when they saw you pull down a duffle bag did they understand you werenât just going down the hall, you were truly leaving. You donât pay mind to their stuttering heartbeats and withdrawn breath; instead, you fling clothing into the bag, not truly comprehending what was going in or staying out. You were unsure if half the clothes inside were even yours. You didnât know, you just wanted enough to cover your ass and get out. Â
âItâs late, detka. Stay home with us for now, please.â Wandaâs hand fell lightly on your shoulder as she begged you. Â
Your skin burned with her touch and gold flared under your skin. You craved her, your power craved her magic, and you could barely resist her. If Natasha touched you next, you werenât sure youâd be able to leave. Understanding this, you zip up the duffle overhastily and whip around with a cutting glare, hoping you looked as threatening as possible. Â
Your eyes flash gold as you bark out. âDo not call me that.â Â
âIâm sorry.â Wanda squeaked out, stepping back in submission.Â
It ought to have made you pause, the sincere apology and pitiful sound thatâd left your witchâthe witch. But you push the urge to double back aside, needing to escape this floor as soon as possible. Â
Natasha held herself back from reprimandâbecause what right did she hold nowâas she questioned you. âAre you staying in the tower at least?â Â
You didnât know before, but hearing it being asked aloud made you resistant to the idea. You wanted to be as far away from them as possible, but with a mission pending and the team counting on your participation, the option of going off-world was null. Â
âDonât worry about it. I can take care of myself, Natalia.â You catch the way she flinches as you slide past her and into the hall, making a beeline for the elevator door. Â
You were surprised she didnât voice her vexation at the way you addressed her. It always peeved her when you, or Wanda, would use the name non-affectionately. âThatâs not the point and you know it.âÂ
Theyâre both hot on your heels as you speed through the floor, calling out for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to send the elevator up. Â
âWell that kinda became the point when you decided to break up with me.â You bite back, anger starting to fight its way to the surface again. Â
Itâs easily swallowed down with Wandaâs next words, only leaving annoyance in its place. Annoyance at how a steady and warm tone could begin to pull you back into her so easily, annoyance at how she believed either of them were due any answers from you, and a annoyance that you knew would, eventually, only simmer into guilt.  Â
âWeâll be at peace knowing where youâll be.â Â
The elevator dings and you step in, unwilling to face them as you go. Â
âYou donât deserve it.âÂ
The two of them watch the door close, marking this chapter unfinished. They fought the ache as they stood there, along with the feeling that called them to chase after you, apologize, and make things right. A chill shot up Wandaâs spine as her body began to process her standing, barefoot, on the foyerâs tile. She walks over to the living room, seeking a plush warmth that would never reach her heart, when she spots it. Â
Summary: In a future where having a child must be earned through an assessment, you and your husband are willing to do whatever it takes to start a family. But as the assessment progresses, old wounds resurface, relationships are tested, and a shocking revelation forces you to question everything you thought was impossible.
Pairing: Assessor Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader
Word count: 15k
Tags/Warnings: 18+ dark themes, SMUT, dubcon, strap-on use, familial roleplay (?), pseudo-incest, dystopian future, infidelity, all kinds of manipulation lol, forbidden pregnancy, obsessive yandere behavior
Author's Note: I am so scared for this one since it has incestuous undertones and we all know how detested this theme is around the fandom. But then again, it is already a warning so if you're not into it, don't read. Your thoughts about this fic are very welcome.
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"She has arrived." FRIDAY says, her voice carrying through the house without urgency.
Tony looks up from the counter. "Already?"
"Yes," FRIDAY replies. "She is currently waiting at the front door."
"I'll get it," you say. You've barely shifted your weight when FRIDAY speaks again.
"For your awareness," he says, "your heart rate has increased by twelve percent over baseline."
You stop for half a second, pressing your lips together as you let the fact settle. Of course it has, this is your home. FRIDAY knows your routines, your anxieties, the way your heart rate shifts about something. The difference between anticipation and fear, between excitement and the kind of tension that sits low in your chest and tightens your breath.
Before you can respond, Tony reaches for you. His hand wraps around yours. He squeezes once, firm enough to remind you that you're not alone in this, that whatever waits on the other side of the door is something you'll face together.
"I've got you," he says quietly, just under his breath. Then, without breaking that connection, he speaks to his invention. "FRIDAY, set the lights to neutral. Increase oxygen levels slightly."
"Already in progress," FRIDAY replies smoothly. "Lighting adjusted to neutral. Oxygen increased by three percent."
You look at Tony and manage a small smile. The kind you only wear for him. He returns it, quick and familiar. His thumb brushing once against your knuckles.
Hand in hand, you walk toward the front door.
And behind stands a woman.
She's slightly taller than youâmaybe three inches at mostâbut it's enough that you notice it immediately, enough to shift the way you hold your shoulders as your gaze lifts to meet hers. Her hair is red in a tight bun. She's wearing what looks like the standard assessor uniformânothing flashy. A neat pencil skirt, a blue and white top that comes all the way up to her neck, long white socks, and flat shoes that look comfortable enough to stand in for hours. It's practical, almost deliberately plain.
Her eyes move to you first. Not invasive, just simply attentive, like she's already registering details she won't comment on later.
"Hi, I am Wanda. Your assessor." She says.
You feel the moment stretch, your body a half-beat behind your thoughts. You're aware of your heartbeat again, of the careful neutrality of the light behind you, of the fact that this is the first real impressionâthe one that will quietly color everything that follows.
Before you can speak, Tony shifts beside you.
"Hi," he says, his voice warm but measured. "Welcome. I'm Tony and this is my wife, Y/N." He gestures toward you. "Please, come in."
You step aside and gesture her in and the three of you move through the house together. Wanda follows without hesitation, her attention taking in the room without obvious scrutiny. When you reach the living area, she sets her bag down neatly at her feet and sits, smooth and practiced, as if she's done this countless times before.
You and Tony take the seats across from her. You feel Tony stiffened when he sat straight, he never sat straight, he would always crouch every chance he got. You sit forward just a little, hand on your lap the other taking your husband's.
Wanda doesn't reach for anything when she begins. She simply looks at the two of you for a moment longer than is comfortable.
"So in the next seven days you'll undergo close observation and formal testing to ascertain suitability for parenting. Let's start simply." She says. "How long have you been together?"
You let out a small nervous laugh before you can stop it. Your fingers begin fidgeting against your lap almost instantly, twisting once against the fabric of your sleeve.
Your husband answers first, easy. "Three years." His hand shifts closer until his knuckles brush yours, grounding without making a show of it.
Wanda nods, then turns her attention to you. "And together?"
"Five," you say. Your voice sounds steadier than you feel.
She watches how you answeredânot the words, but the timing, the way you look at Tony for confirmation.
"Tell me how you met," Wanda continues.
Tony smiles faintly. "I hired her."
You shoot him a look. "You interviewed me."
"That's what I said," he replies, unapologetic.
"And did that dynamic carry into your relationship?" The woman's question lands more sharply than the tone suggests.
"At first, maybe. But not for long."
"Why not?" Wanda asks.
"Because it wouldn't have worked, if she doesn't have an equal say." Your husband answered for you in which you agreed in your mind.
Wanda doesn't write anything down. She doesn't even shift in her seat. She just watches you for a moment longer than she has before, her attention narrowing until it feels uncomfortably precise.
"You're quiet," she says at last.
The room stills.
"You let him answer for you," Wanda continues, "Is that always your dynamic?"
You open your mouth. Nothing comes out. Your thoughts trip over each other. You feel the familiar hitch in your breath, the way words line up faster than you can release them.
"Iâ" You stop. Start again. "I justâ"
Beside you, Tony shifts. You feel the immediate instinct, that reflex. He's about to step in, about to smooth it over and protect you from the silence like he always does.
Before he can, Wanda lifts a hand. "I'm asking her," she says gently.
Tony freezes.
You feel itâthe effort it takes for him to stay quiet. His jaw tightens and his mouth closes. He leans back just slightly, hands clasped together, eyes on you instead of Wanda.
The silence stretches.
Your heart pounds. You're painfully aware of every second it takes you to speak, of how exposed it feels to be watched while you gather yourself.
"It's notâŠalways," you manage, the words uneven but real. "He talks faster than I do. I think longer. He just fills the space for me.
Tony's fingers twitch once in his lap but he doesn't interrupt.
"Do you ask him to?" Wanda presses.
"No," you say. "He justâŠknows."
"And do you want him to stop?" she asks.
The question lands softlyâand devastates anyway.
You shake your head. Then add, more carefully, "Not always. But sometimesâŠI need the space first."
Wanda's gaze flicks briefly to Tony, then back to you. She moves on without another word.
"What scares you about being a parent?"
You knew this was coming. You'd rehearsed answers in your head. Thought you were ready. Still, your mouth feels dry.
"I'm scared I won't know when I'm doing damage," you say after a moment. "That I'll think I'm helping when I'm actuallyâŠshaping something that can't be undone."
"And what tells you that's a possibility?" she asks again.
You hesitate. This wasn't in the rehearsal. "Because that's how it happened to me," you admit. "No one meant to hurt me. But they still did."
The silence that follows is uncomfortably heavy.
Wanda shifts slightly, then asks, "What excites you?"
You glance at Tony without thinking. He doesn't speak. He just watches you, steady, letting you answer this one yourself.
"The chance to do it differently," you say quietly. "To give someone safety and love without control. To watch a person become themselves and not feel threatened by it."
"What do you think a child would cost you?"
You blink. "Everything," you say honestly. "Time, energy, parts of myself I'm used to keeping."
"And what would it give you?"
You answer without thinking this time. "Love."
You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You'd heard about this part, the intensity and the way it makes you feel smaller and clearer at the same time.
"What would you do for your child?"
"Everything."
Wanda lets the pause stretch just long enough for you to think everything is over. Then she shifts, folding one leg over the other as her questions turn inward.
"Let's talk about health," she says. She asks about sleep firstâhow many hours, who wakes first, who lies awake longer. Then diet and stress. Tony answers some of it easily, with numbers and habits and half-shrugs. You fill in the gaps when he glosses over things, the quiet ones he forgets count.
Then mental health.
"When one of you isn't well," Wanda asks, "how does the other know?"
You answer that one. Wanda nods slowly, as if placing each answer into an invisible structure.
"How often do you have sex?"
You freeze.
You were just about to look at your husband when he spoke.
"Regularly," Tony answered, easy enoughâand then he glances at you, a quick grin flashing across his face. He knows this one isn't yours to answer. You've always been the quieter one when it comes to things like this.
Wanda doesn't react. She simply tilts her head slightly, as if adjusting the lens she's looking through.
"How regular is regular?" she asks. Her eyes never leave yours. It's starting to make you uncomfortable.
You shift slightly on the couch, suddenly hyperaware of everythingâyour breathing, the warmth gathering in your face, the way Tony's knee is pressed against yours.
Then Tony steps in exactly the way you knew he would.
"Pretty regular," he says lightly. "We're married, not dead."
A quiet, startled laugh slips out of you before you can stop it. He can be sarcastic like that.
Wanda doesn't smile at that. "How many times a week?"
"Oh, wellâŠ" his grin tilts sharper for half a second before easing again. "Depends on the week."
"That isn't an answer."
Tony exhales softly through his nose, settling deeper into the couch like he's trying to make the conversation casual through sheer force of will. "Four?" he says. "Sometimes more. Sometimes less if one of us is busy." He finishes lazily.
Wanda nods once. "And who initiates more often?"
You can practically feel the moment he decides this is still his question to handle again.
He also very clearly thinks the question is ridiculous. But somehow, impossibly, he remains behaved. This is a test, he reminded himself.
"Me," he answers without hesitation.
Wanda's gaze finally shifts to him. "Why?"
Tony blinks once like the answer should be obvious.
"BecauseâŠ" he gestures his left arm vaguely in your direction. "I like my wife?" A beat passes before he adds, completely serious, "And she's beautiful, smart, and hot."
Then you cover your lip with one hand, already mortified. "Tonyâ"
"What?" he says immediately, turning toward you with genuine confusion. "You are."
"And that's enough reason?" Wanda asks sharply as if you two are forgetting she is there.
Tony looks back at her. "Shouldn't it be?"
You can feel the tension building again beneath Tony's composure now. He is not angry exactly but defensive.
He let out a heavy sigh realizing that the woman was still waiting for his answer. "She works herself into the ground," he starts. "Half the time she forgets what she needs because she's too focused on everyone else. So yeah, sometimes I initiate because she deserves to be wanted before she asks for it."
The room falls quiet again, and this time the heat creeping up your neck has absolutely nothing to do with nerves anymore. Wanda watches you carefully from across the couch, completely composed while you feel like you're actively dissolving into the cushions beneath you.
"Do you achieve a regular climax?" the ask is now directed to you.
Your mind buffered with the question but still you answered. "Y-Yes."
Wanda tilts her head slightly. "You sound unsure."
"Yes," you say in autopilot, "I meanâno. I am sure." You let out an awkward laugh under your breath out of embarrassment.
A quiet little laugh escapes Wanda before she can stop it, soft enough that it almost catches you off guard while she watches you struggle to recover from the question.
And somehow your embarrassment gets worse.
"Wow," he says, placing a hand dramatically against his chest. "You hesitated like I'm not sitting right here."
You immediately turn toward him, horrified. "Tony!"
"What? I'm just saying," he continues, clearly entertained now. "That answer was disrespectful to my entire career."
You just laugh again and when you look straight ahead again, you catch the last trace of Wanda's smile. Beautiful, your mind supplies before you can stop it. You become suddenly aware that you've been staring a fraction too long. You clear your throat softly and glance away. When you look back, Wanda is already watching you again with that same unreadable attentiveness, though something gentler lingers beneath it now.
She rises smoothly from the couch, straightening the sleeves of her uniform. "I think we're done for now," she says. "Shall I check where I'm staying?"
"Yeah, of course." Tony stands immediately.
You guide her through the quieter hallway of the house toward the guest suite prepared for her. Wanda walks beside the two of you calmly, her attention moving across the walls of the room, the lighting, the architectureâtaking in everything without ever seeming intrusive.
Wanda sets her bag down near the bed and nods once after checking the whole place. "Thank you. We'll begin medical collection shortly."
The tests are somehow worse than the questions. It was clinical, humiliating, and entirely too personal.
Tony goes first, trying to make light of it the entire time while Wanda records. Then it's your turn.
You swear the embarrassment burns hotter beneath Wanda's quiet observation than the actual procedures themselves. She remains perfectly professional through all of it, calm and composed while you try not to think too hard about the fact that you are peeing with a woman one meter away from you.
After the tests when you finally see your husband, he reaches for your hand. "Well," he murmurs under his breath, "this officially beats every weird thing we've ever survived together."
A small laugh escapes you despite yourself.
"Hey," he says softly.
You look up just as his hand slides around your waist, pulling you gently closer. Your hands settle against his shirt automatically, fingers curling into the fabric as he leans down to kiss you.
Tony's hand cups your jaw briefly, thumb brushing your cheek while you melt into him without thinking. Then his other hand settles at your waist and suddenly the kiss deepens just enough to steal your breath.
Then there's a movement not far behind you. The two of you pull apart at the exact same time.
Wanda stands at the end of the hallway watching the two of you make out. For one horrible second, nobody speaks. Your entire body goes hot with embarrassment.
Tony blinks once. "Jesus Christâ"
"Please," Wanda says evenly from the hallway, "go on."
The words should probably make it better but good Lord they absolutely do not.
You feel your entire face burn as silence crashes down around the hallway. Whatever warmth had existed a second ago evaporates instantly.
Tony stares at Wanda for another beat like he's trying to decide whether to laugh or to kill her from cockblocking him.
"Yep," he says finally. "No, see, now it's weird."
For the first time, Wanda looks genuinely confused by that.
"You are married," she points out calmly.
"That's not the issue," Tony murmurs to himself.
Her gaze shifts between the two of you again, observant as ever. "Then what is? I need to observe every aspect of your relationship."
You clear your throat awkwardly and step forward from Tony, you're aware you have this one covered knowing your husband's patience is coming to its limit.
"We're going to bed," you say while massaging his arm to soothe him.
Wanda nods once, "Good night, then."
"Good night, thank you," you say quickly.
The second Wanda disappears back into her room, you groan softly.
"Oh my God."
Tony, on the other hand, seems like he's about to burst into madness but he is controlling it perfectly.
"Hey, on the bright side," you say, reaching for his hands gently, "at least we know she's thorough."
He shoots you a look. "That is not comforting."
"Sorry, honey." You smile.
Seeing you smile made his anger start to fade, he grinned faintly as he laced his fingers through yours and led you down the hall toward your shared bedroom.
"You okay?"
You nod after a second. "JustâŠoverwhelmed."
His expression softens immediately. "No more assessment tonight. Just us. No more weird shit."
"You knowâŠ" you say quietly once the room settles again, "she looks at me a lot."
Tony glances up from where he's taking off his shirt. "What do you mean?"
"She barely even looks at you sometimes. Even when the questions are directed to you." You pull your knees closer against your chest as you sit on the edge of the bed. "It's always me she's watching."
He thinks about it for a second before shrugging lightly. "Maybe she's just looking for your reaction to what I say."
"No," you murmur, shaking your head immediately. "Earlier during the medical tests too, she didn't even come inside while you were taking yours. But with me, she's literally just half meter away while I was peeing."
That finally makes him pause. "HoneyâŠmaybe it's because you're both woman?"
You stare at him hard. "But still," you say after a second, frowning slightly. "Privacy, you know?"
Tony huffs a quiet laugh through his nose. "Yeah, okay point on you, honey."
Your shoulders sink again though, anxiety creeping right back in. He notices immediately. Without saying anything else, he gently takes your wrist and pulls you farther onto the bed until you're sitting properly between his legs. His hands settle on your hips, grounding you there while he looks up at you patiently.
"What if she doesn't like me?" you ask suddenly.
Tony's expression softens at once.
"What if there's already a result?" you continue quietly, words spilling faster now. "What if she already decided something the second she walked in? What if we're doing everything wrong and I don't even realize it?"
"Hey." His hands tighten gently. "Look at me."
"I really want this," you whisper.
"I know."
"No, I really want this, Tony." Your voice shakes slightly now. "I want a child. I want a child I can call my own."
His grip tightens gently.
You look at him then, eyes already glassy with worry. "We're good, right?" you ask softly. "We deserve it."
The words come faster after that, like if you stop talking the fear will swallow you whole.
"We're stable. We've done everything they asked." Your fingers twist nervously in the fabric of his shirt. "We would be good parents."
Tony's face changes slowly as he listens not because he disagrees but because he hates hearing you sound like you need to convince someone. Especially him, he is not Wanda. He is not an assessor.
"You don't have to sell me on us," he says quietly.
But you keep going anyway.
"We deserve this," you whisper again, almost like you're trying to make it true by saying it out loud. "Don't we?"
Tony's hands move up to cradle your face immediately.
"Hey." His voice is firmer now, enough to make you really look at him. "There is nobody on this planet more deserving of being a mother than you. You are kind, patient, ridiculously loving, and honestly the only reason this house feels like a home instead of a tech bunker."
A small breath escapes you. Your husband leans closer.
"And if that assessor can't see how incredible you are, then she's bad at her job."
And for the first time that night, the fear in your chest eases just a little.
What you don't know is that the door didn't fully close. Enough for your voices to slip through into the hallway. Wanda came back quietly to lurk on the two of youâit's a part of her jobâto hear everything.
She stands there quietly outside your room, she looks back toward the crack in the door. She watches you, the way you fidget his shirt, the way you rests on your husband's lap, the way you lean into him without thinking.
Her jaw tightens faintly; she doesn't know at what.
Carefully, she steps back from the door and walks away down the hallway.
ᱏ
You wake up early the next morning. Way too early, honestly. Tony's still asleep beside you, face half buried in the pillow, completely unaware that your brain has already been spiraling for the last twenty minutes. You stare at the ceiling for a second before finally getting up.
Because now it feels real. The assessment starts today and you don't know what to expect.
You throw on one of Tony's sweaters and head downstairs, deciding to make breakfast. The kitchen is quiet except for the soft sounds of coffee brewing and the knife against the cutting board while you prepare fruit. You keep catching yourself fixing things that don't need fixing. Straightening plates and wiping already clean counters.
You glance up immediately when you hear footsteps.
Wanda walks into the kitchen looking like she just woke up, hair slightly messy, wearing a dark jacket and loose pants instead of that assessor outfit from yesterday. Somehow she looks softer like thisâless intimidating.
"Hi, good morning," your voice comes out all soft and warm without you even thinking about it.
Wanda blinks at you. Her eyes stay on you for a second too long and something about your voice catches her completely off guard. Her chest tightens unexpectedly, heart skipping once before she can control it, it's stupid. Then she just nods once and sits at the table without saying anything. The silence after that feels ridiculously loud.
You suddenly become hyperaware of everything you're doing. The way you move, the way you pour coffee. The fact that she's sitting there watching quietly while you try very hard to act normal.
And the worst part? You can't tell anymore if you're making breakfast because you want to or because you want her to think you'd make a good mother.
Wanda sits quietly at the table while you move around the kitchen making breakfast. You place the bowl of freshly cut fruit in front of her carefully. She watched everything you did, how you glance at her every few seconds like you're trying to figure out what she's thinking.
Then came your husband. You immediately look up toward him and Wanda sees it happen in real time. Your whole face changes.
Your eyes light up before Tony even fully walks into the kitchen. Your shoulders relax instantly, like your body finally stopped being tense the second he appeared.
"Morning, honey," you say softly.
Tony barely even says good morning before walking straight to you, pressing a lazy kiss against your temple while stealing a strawberry from the cutting board.
"Morning, pretty girl."
You laugh quietly and shove at him with your hip while he grins like he's proud of himself.
And Wanda feels something ugly spark low in her chest. Hot and sudden enough that it almost pisses her off. She can't stop staring at the way you look at Tony. And the worst part is realizing she wants that look directed at her too not the nervous smiles you give her because she's the assessor. She doesn't like you being so careful and polite. She sat quietly at the table while you moved around the kitchen finishing up plates and Tony hovered nearby, stealing pieces of fruit and pretending he was helping.
"You know there are easier ways to get attention," you mumble when he steals another strawberry.
Tony grins immediately. "Yeah, but this one gets you to look at me."
You roll your eyes so hard it almost makes him laugh. Then he turns your face slightly toward him and kisses you.
That's when it starts.
SLAM.
The sound cracks through the kitchen hard enough that both you and Tony jump apart immediately. You turn around fast, Wanda is sitting at her chair gripping the bowl of fruit tightly in both hands. And then she slams it against the table again.
You blink in complete shock. "Wandaâ?"
She doesn't answer. Her face is tight, jaw clenched, eyes fixed downward at the bowl while she keeps hitting it against the table over and over again. The fruits you prepared for her were flying everywhere.
Tony straightens instantly beside you. The joking mood disappears from his face immediately now that he recognizes what's happening.
Assessment behavior, regression testing. The assessor acting out emotionally the way a difficult child would to test parental responses under stress.
"Wanda," you say again but nothing. She just slams it again.
Your husband has gone quiet behind you now, watching carefully, but before he can say anything you move closer and gently grab Wanda's wrists to stop her from doing it again.
"Wanda, no."
Wanda slowly looks up at you.
"Slamming food around isn't nice," you tell her firmly. "We don't do that."
The whole kitchen goes silent. Even Tony looks a little surprised hearing you sound like thatâfirm and strict. But what catches you off guard is Wanda's face, her eyes start glossing over.
Your grip on her wrists softens immediately. "HeyâŠI am not mad," you say softer this time. "Okay?"
For a second, you think she's going to pull away completely or snap again. Instead, she suddenly leans forwardâright into you. You let out a tiny sound of surprise when her forehead nudges against your neck, arms stiff at first like she didn't fully mean to do it either. The movement feels awkward and desperate at the same time.
You freeze, eyes immediately flick toward Tony. He's still standing near the counter watching the two of you carefully, he gives you a small nod to go aheadâthat you are doing great. And slowly, carefully, you wrap your arms around Wanda.
For a second, Wanda just stays there against you and then suddenly she pulls away so fast it catches you completely off guard. She pushes at your shoulders hard enough to make you stumble back before immediately turning around.
"Wandaâ?"
But she's already running straight out of the kitchen like an overstimulated kid.
"You haven't finished your fruits!"
Her footsteps thunder in the hallway.
You just stand there blinking for a second, still trying to process what the hell just happened. Your husband looks equally stunned.
Tony snorts immediately, dragging a hand down his face while trying not to laugh. "She absolutely just toddler-ran away from you."
You cover your mouth, half shocked, half trying not to laugh too. "Should we check on her?" you ask carefully.
Tony sighs dramatically. "See? This is what I mean. You already sound like a parent."
ᱏ
Having a grown adult act as your child turns out to be way harder and weirder than either you or Tony expected.
Because it's not just the tantrums.
It's everything else.
It's Wanda following you around the house constantly like she's waiting for attention every second of the day. If the two of you are talking too long without including her, suddenly she's there hovering nearby with crossed arms and an annoyed expression. If your husband hugs you for more than ten seconds, Wanda somehow appears out of nowhere looking irritated.
And the messes.
God, the messes.
At one point she leaves half-empty cups everywhere around the tower like she physically does not understand how tables work. You walk into the living room and there's socks on the couch, one shoe near the stairs, and somehow yogurt spilling on the counter that nobody remembers seeing her eat.
Tony stands there staring at the disaster one afternoon looking genuinely exhausted.
"How," he says slowly, "does one person create this much chaos in under twelve hours?"
You're trying not to laugh while picking up Wanda's abandoned sweater from the floor. "This is part of the test too."
"Honey, if it is, I'm failing emotionally."
Then there's the attention thing where Wanda constantly needs attentionâyour attention. And your husband notices it before you do.
At first he thinks maybe he's imagining it. Wanda's an assessor, after all. Observing you more closely could just mean she's focusing on your emotional responses because you're more expressive than he is.
But then it keeps happening.
If you leave the room, Wanda somehow ends up leaving too a few minutes later. If you're working in the greenhouse, she's suddenly sitting nearby pretending to read while very obviously watching you work. If you're cooking, she appears in the kitchen. If you're folding laundry, Wanda's somehow sitting on the bed looking quietly while you do it.
And the weirdest part? She barely interacts with Tony unless she has to. One afternoon Tony walks into the living room and finds Wanda sitting on the floor beside the couch while you braid little pieces of her hair absentmindedly because she asked if you knew how. The second Tony enters, Wanda visibly shifts away from himânot dramatically but enough that he notices and you don't.
Later that night, after you put Wanda to bed, Tony finally brings it up.
"Honey."
You look up from your book. "Hm?"
"Remember when you brought up thatâŠthe assessor was looking at you all the time?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, I think she likes you more than me."
You blink immediately. "What?"
Tony flops dramatically onto the bed beside you. "She follows you around like a lost cat."
"She does not."
"She absolutely does." He points toward the door. "Yesterday you went to get water and she appeared in the kitchen thirty seconds later with absolutely no reason to be there."
"She was probably thirsty."
"She was holding an empty mug upside down."
You try not to laugh.
Tony rolls onto his side to look at you properly now. "No, seriously. Have you noticed she barely talks to me unless you're involved in the conversation?"
You think about it for a second. "She's not rude to you though," you say carefully.
"Yes, because she doesn't talk to me at all. Honey, earlier I asked her how she slept and she looked at you before answering."
That actually makes you laugh.
Tony squints at you immediately. "Don't encourage her weird little attachment issues."
"I'm not!"
"You absolutely are. Every time she acts emotionally unstable, you pet her like a nervous rescue animal."
"She likes affection. And hey, don't call her a pet, she's acting as our daughter."
"She likes your affection." He clarified, the teasing in his voice fades slightly after that.
"She's probably attached to me because I'm kind ofâŠher mom right now, you know?" You start rambling a little when he doesn't answer immediately. "I meanânot literally obviouslyâbut here she's acting as the child and I'm the maternal figure, so maybe that's why she follows me around more." You shrug lightly. "Kids usually get more attached to whoever comforts them the most."
"She's emotionally manipulative," Tony insists.
"She's emotional like a kid," you argue back immediately.
"She slammed fruit at us."
"This is just a test, honey." You say as if the entire thing barely bothered you, effectively ending the conversation.
ᱏ
The next morning begins with FRIDAY announcing a delivery downstairs. Your husband circles it slowly with his coffee.
"There is absolutely no reason a play pen should come in a box this big."
You're already trying not to laugh. Watching Tony Stark get intimidated by toddler furniture is easily one of the funniest things you've ever seen.
"It looked smaller online," you defend weakly.
"Honey, small countries have less infrastructure than this."
Nearby, Wanda watches quietly over the rim of her mug, you made her milk and cookies for breakfast. The atmosphere between all three of you feels different after days have passedâsofter somehow.
Tony dramatically slices the box open. The second it falls apart, metal bars, fabric panels, connectors, and approximately a thousand screws spill across the floor.
He freezes. "Why does it have this many parts?"
You unfold the instruction manual and immediately regret it. It looks less like furniture instructions and more like an engineering blueprint.
Tony stares at it in disbelief. "This is not a play pen. This is an exam."
"We're assembling it together," you tell him. "No FRIDAY."
He sighs dramatically and drops to the floor beside the parts. "Fine. Let's start building this child prison unit."
"It's a play pen." You correct him.
"That's exactly what she wants you to think." Your husband whispers to you while secretly looking at your assessor, you gave him a jab before settling beside him.
Wanda quietly observes from a distance. But over time she unconsciously drifts closerâfirst leaving the armchair for the couch, then eventually ending up on the floor nearby while Tony argues with the instructions.
You hand Tony screws while he assembles panels, leaning against his shoulder to check the instructions while Wanda still watches closely. Every now and then you catch her staring at you absentmindedly whenever you smile or laugh.
Tony notices tooâespecially when he reaches across you for a screwdriver and Wanda visibly stiffens before relaxing once he pulls away.
It's subtle, but impossible to miss now.
After nearly an hour, Tony finally stands proudly. "There," he declares. "Perfect engineering."
And the entire left side immediately collapses inward with a horrible metallic crash.
Tony stares at the wreckage like he's been personally betrayed. Soon the play pen collapses for the third time, leaving the living room looking like a battlefield of toddler furniture and wounded pride. Tony sits surrounded by screws and metal bars, glaring at the instructions.
"This thing hates me personally," he mutters.
"You attached the panels backwards."
"They should've adapted."
"Honey, that's not how engineering works."
"Says who?"
"The laws of physics?"
Tony opens his mouth to argue, but stops the second you lean closer to fix one of the connectors. His whole expression softens immediately when you smile at him, you are so calm and patient. And that smile of yours? That's his weakness.
Wanda notices that. She's been noticing it all morning. At first she tried ignoring it. Then she tried focusing on the assessment. She even tried helping with the play pen for about four minutes before Tony accidentally called her "kiddo" and irritated her again.
Now she's sitting nearby watching the two of you together while something hot and restless twists in her chest every time your attention drifts back to Tony.
Before either of you can react, Wanda suddenly gets up, walks over, and drops down beside youâresting her head directly in your lap.
You freeze and Wanda doesn't look embarrassed at all. She just curls slightly against your side, staring at the broken play pen with the most exhausted expression imaginable.
"Hungry," she mutters.
The silence afterward is deafening. Then she nudges closer against your stomach like an upset child refusing to ask for comfort properly.
"I'm hungry, mommy," she repeats quieter this time.
Without even realizing it, your fingers start moving gently through her hair.
"Okay, sweetheart," you say softly, brushing hair away from Wanda's face. "I'll make food." The words come out so naturally you don't even think about them.
You guide Wanda up gently by the wrist and she follows without resistance, looking at you like she's waiting for something more than instructions.
"I'll be in the kitchen," you call to Tony while leading her out.
Tony looks up from the destroyed play pen parts scattered everywhere. He watches the two of you for a second too long.
"Yeah," he says slowly. "Okay."
You don't notice the tone since you're already focused on Wanda.
But Tony stays sitting there after you leave, staring at the empty space where you both were. Something about this suddenly feels off to him. Just this small, uncomfortable feeling in the back of his head that he can't quite name yet. He glances toward the kitchen doorway where you disappeared. He can still hear your voice faintly in there, calm and easy, talking to her like it's nothing. Wanda's answering too, quieter, more contained, like she only needs to be loud or difficult when she's not with you.
"It's just her job," he mutters to himself, like he's trying to convince his own brain.
But even as he says it, he's not fully buying it anymore. Because whatever is going on doesn't feel like assessment behavior alone.
And the worst part is, he can't exactly point to why it feels personal.
ᱏ
You're up early the next morning, already settled into a routine that feels dangerously domestic. Pancakes cook on the stove while you cut fruit into neat little pieces for Wanda without even thinking about it anymore. Tony's coffee is already brewing behind you, exactly how he likes it, strong and slightly too bitter for normal people.
It feelsâŠdomestic in a way that's starting to feel too normal.
You're reaching for another plate when arms suddenly wrap around your waist from behind.
Warm weight presses against your back. A face nuzzles lightly into your neck. You smile instantly, already assuming it's Tony. He does this all the time when he's half awake and clingy in the mornings.
"Good morning to you too," you murmur with a laugh, still slicing fruit.
The arms tighten slightly around your stomach. You lean back into it automatically.
"Coffee's almost ready," you say softly.
You feel a warm, hard bulge press firm against the curve of your ass through your thin sleep shorts. You huff a soft laugh and grind back playfully against it, the hands splayed wide on your hips suddenly tighten their grip, fingers digging in just a little harder. Wanda's still asleep, you think, so you and Tony could squeeze in a little quickie before she wakes up. You were about to tilt your head back to turn for a kiss only to see a pair of bright green orbs meet your gaze, warm and hungry. You jump back hard, your elbow knocking a fruit bowl on the counter.
It's Wanda.
You immediately pull away. "Wandaâ!"
"Hi, mommy," she says casually, almost confused by your reaction.
For a second she just stares at you, hands hovering awkwardly in the air after being pushed away.
You gulp hard and you drag your gaze slowly down from her face to her pajamas. You swear you felt a hard bulge pressed firm against your ass seconds ago. But you just convinced yourself that maybe it's just the way her shirt is slightly tucked in inside her pants. Or maybe you were just freaking horny that you felt ashamed.
You force yourself to breathe. "Hi," you say shakily. "I'm sorryâI thought it was your dad."
She stares at you for a second too long, jaw tightening slightly while her gaze flicks toward the hallway behind you like she suddenly hates the fact Tony exists somewhere in the house at all.
You didn't notice it, of course you wouldn't. "Okay," you murmur softly as you pull back. "Come on."
You guide her gently toward the dining table by the wrist, trying to act normal even though your heart is still racing. Wanda sits without complaint while you return to the counter, keeping your hands busy like that'll somehow steady you again.
Breakfast is already halfway through when Tony finally wakes up.
"So, our friends are coming over later."
You pause mid-cutting your fruit and look at him. "Tonight?"
"Yeah," he shrugs. "Just the gang."
Tony glances at Wanda, then leans back slightly in his chair.
"And Wanda," he adds, tone lighter but clearly intentional, "you can behave, right?" He stopped adding some pet names because he realizes that it just makes her act up, only you can do that.
Wanda doesn't look up and just keeps eating. Like she either didn't hear him or decided she didn't need to answer.
Your husband waits a beat. Then another. "That's not exactly reassuring," he mutters under his breath, mostly to you.
You feel him getting frustrated so you try diverting the atmosphere, "So Steve, Bucky, and Clint, right?"
By the time the conversation really starts to heat up, you've already moved to the bedroom.
"So Pepper's coming too?" you asked very seriously.
Tony looks up like it's the most normal thing in the world. "Yeah."
Your brows lift immediately. "I thought you cut off Pepper."
Tony exhales, already sensing where this is going. "We didn't cut her off. We justâ"
"No, I cut her off. I stopped talking to her," you cut in.
"We took space."
"Wow, a fucking space? After you fucked each other behind my back?" you say flatly and straight up.
Tony groans, dragging a hand down his face. "It's been so long, Y/N why do you keep bringing it up!"
You don't answer immediately because there's nothing new to say anymore.
You've had this conversation too many times already. You've told him exactly why it still hurts. And every single time, it ends the same wayâhim calling it a mistake, saying it only happened once, reminding you that you're the one he married.
Like that's supposed to erase what it did to you? Like betrayal becomes smaller just because he chose to stay afterward?
And the way he talks about it now, so casuallyâso carefully reasonable. Making you look as the irrational one for still carrying it when he's already decided it's in the past.
You just look at him for a second, completely still with nothingness.
Wanda moves quickly the moment she hears your bedroom door open again. She steps out a few paces from your door like she was just passing by, not standing there and literally eavesdropping on your argumentâjust casually existing in the right place at the right time.
The moment you see her, your expression softens immediately. Whatever heaviness was sitting on your shoulders a second ago dulls just enough when your attention lands on her instead.
"Hey," you say quietly.
"Hi, mommy," Wanda smiles, hoping she would see you smile as well.
"Do you want to help me cook?"
Something shifts in Wanda instantly. She'd been waiting for that exact kind of attention without knowing how to ask for it herself. She nods once, her smile widening softly.
By the time the front door chimes and FRIDAY announces your guests have arrived, the entire house smells like food.
Steve is the first one through the door, and the moment you see him, you smile automatically. "Hey, Steve," you say softly, stepping forward to hug him briefly.
"Good to see you," he replies warmly, squeezing your shoulder once before pulling back.
Bucky comes in right after him, quieter but just as familiar.
"Hi, Bucky," you greet with an easy smile, and he gives you one of his small rare smiles back.
"Hey, doll," he says softly.
"Okay, I better see snacks or I'm leaving," Clint announces immediately, and before you can even respond he's already pulling you into a hug. You laugh into it, arms wrapping around him just as easily as always.
"Hi to you too," you mumble.
Behind him is Nathaniel, a little older now but still clearly Clint's kid in the way he walks in looking curious and slightly chaotic. You crouch a little to greet him properly, smiling. "Hey, Natty boy," you say, and he grins back at you, already looking around like he's planning something.
"Is there still that room with the weird training stuff?" he asks immediately.
Clint groans. "Please don't encourage him."
You laugh, standing back up just as the last person walks in.
Pepper.
The energy shifts slightly the moment you see her.
You feel that small tightening in your chest that you can't quite ignore. You straighten a little anyway, polite instinct taking over.
"Hey," you say.
Pepper smiles. "Hi."
And that's it.
Behind you, Tony moves in smoothly, greeting everyone like there's no tension in the air at all, pulling Steve and Bucky into conversation, clapping Clint on the shoulder, immediately slipping into host mode like he wasn't just arguing with you earlier in the bedroom.
And then Pepper.
Your husband's posture shifts slightly when he sees her. He was very careful.
"Pepper," he says.
"Tony," she replies just as evenly.
There's a beat where they just look at each other. Not long enough for anyone else to comment on it. But long enough for you to feel it and then it's over.
"Glad you could make it," Tony adds smoothly, already shifting his attention to the next person in the room.
"Of course," Pepper says.
Tony turns slightly like he's about to call you over, say something casual, include you in the flow of the group again. But you don't wait for it. You just step back a little instead, turning away from the cluster of people and heading toward the kitchen like it's the most natural thing in the world to do.
Everyone's finally settled in the living room now. The usual chaos of arrivals has softened into background noiseâSteve and Bucky talking on one side, Clint already halfway through whatever food he managed to steal from the kitchen, Nathaniel wandering around like he's inspecting the place, and Pepper sitting a little more reserved near the edge of the group, polite smile on but not really inserting herself into anything yet.
Tony is in the middle of it all, as usual, switching between conversations like it's second nature. You're sitting on a couch just watching everyone exist in the same space, trying to mentally keep track of everything still left to do.
Then Wanda appears.
She doesn't announce herself or anything. Just steps into the living room, eyes scanning the room slowly. There's a brief pause in conversation when your friends notice her.
You straighten slightly without thinking and step forward a bit.
"Ohâyeah," you say, voice a little lighter as you gesture toward her. "Guys, this is Wanda, our assessor."
Steve nods first, polite as always. "Hey."
Bucky gives her a short, quiet look of acknowledgment. Clint pauses mid-bite like he's trying to decide if this is a new threat or not. Pepper just watches carefully and smiles.
Wanda just takes a step further into the room, eyes moving briefly across each person before landing back on you for a second too long. Then she gives you a small, polite smile.
You smile at her automatically, soft and familiar that it has become second nature now. Behind you, the conversations pick up again slowly, people adjusting to her presence.
She quietly settles beside you on the couch, close enough that her knee brushes yours. Honestly, it feels easier and safer this way. You already have a plate ready for her before she even sits down, and without really thinking about it, you slip right back into taking care of her automatically. You pull her water closer when she doesn't reach for it herself, fix the napkin on her lap after it slips, feed her bites between conversations when she gets distracted looking around the room.
It's become disturbingly natural now.
Across the room, Steve watches the whole thing with slightly raised brows while Clint mutters something under his breath to Bucky about how you've fully entered "mom mode." Tony only shakes his head with a tired little smile, though there's something more thoughtful underneath it now whenever he watches how attached Wanda has become to you.
Then you notice Wanda staring at your drink.
Her eyes stay fixed on the wine glass in your hand while you continue half-listening to Steve talking about something across the room. Earlier, when she asked what it was, you'd casually lied and said it was juice. Apparently that was a mistake.
Wanda lightly tugs at your sleeve.
You look down immediately. "Hm?"
Her eyes flick toward your glass again. "Mommy, can I have your juice?"
"Oh no, baby," you say quickly, gently moving the wine glass farther away from her reach. "This one's only for mommies."
Wanda blinks slowly. "Because it's special juice?"
"Yeah, sweetheart, mommy needs this juice to survive tonight."
She surprisingly didn't push after that. But then she stands up and suddenly starts walking around.
You call for her. "Wanda?"
She keeps going, slow and casual. She circles the coffee table once, still munching her food as she moves. You stare for a second, before getting up as well.
"Hey, sweetheart, come sit back down," you call, voice gentle but confused.
Tony looks over from across the room, already noticing the shift. "Is sheâŠdoing laps?"
You ignored him and Tony took that as a sign that you're still mad at him.
She turns slightly and glances at you, but then continues walking again like she heard you but decided it wasn't relevant.
That's when it fully turns into chaos.
Because now you're following her around the living room, still trying to feed her, still calling her name in this irritating tone while she just keeps movingâaround Steve's chair, past Clint's feet, behind the couch, completely unbothered. At one point she even slows down just enough for you to catch up, take another bite from the spoon you are holding, and then immediately starts walking again.
"Man, I didn't know that this assessment shit is hard but I think you should help your wife." Steve says to Tony, taking pity on how you have been trying to catch Wanda.
"Okay," you say softly, trying to keep your tone calm even though you're very aware that your friends are watching this unfold. "Wanda, come back."
All of a sudden Bucky steps into Wanda's path near the hallway, blocking her next lap around.
"Hey," he says evenly, crouching slightly so he's more in her line of sight. "Listen to your mom, alright? Sit down and eat."
Wanda just stared at him very hard before shoving him. Bucky stumbles backward from the unexpected force and the side of Wanda's head clips sharply against his mouth as she jerks away from him at the same time.
"Shitâ"
Bucky immediately grabs his lip, stepping back as the metallic scent of blood hits the air almost instantly.
"BuckâŠ"
The bowl in your hands is forgotten instantly as you rush toward him. Bucky's already pressing the back of his hand against his mouth.
"Let me see," you say quickly, gently pulling his hand away from his lip.
There's a small split at the corner, already bruising dark around the edge, a thin streak of blood against his skin. Not serious for someone like Bucky, probably gone in a day for him, but the sight still makes your chest tighten anyway.
"Oh my God," you murmur softly. "I'm so sorry."
Bucky shakes his head immediately. "Hey, it's okay," he says, voice calmer, "I'm fine, doll don't worry."
But you're already fussing over him instinctively, brows pulled together with genuine guilt, completely focused on him for the moment.
There was never actually anything between you two. Never crossed lines, no betrayal. But years ago, before you and Tony got married, before everything settled into what it is now, Bucky had admitted onceâquietly, honestlyâthat he had feelings for you.
He never pushed after that. Never made it weird, never tried to come between you and Tony.
But sometimes, in moments like this, there are still traces of it in the way he looks at you when you're worried about him.
"You're bleeding," you whisper, clearly upset.
Bucky gives a tiny smile despite the cut. "Pretty sure I've survived worse than an angry girl with a spoon."
Normally that would make you laugh. But now you're just ashamed of what just happened.
And Wandaâthe suspectâis staring completely still in the kitchen doorway. Watching your hands on Bucky's face. Watching the way your friend is looking at you back and his hands unintentionally settling on your hips. Her expression doesn't change much outwardly, but her eyes do. Something ugly twists sharply in her chestâjealousy hits so hard it almost feels physical.
And Tony notices that, too. Because while everyone else is focused on Bucky's split lip, Tony catches the look on Bucky's face first. And suddenly he feels it as well. Not jealousy exactly, it is something more complicatedâthreat.
Because he remembers. Of course he remembers.
Bucky admitting that he had feelings for you for years had nearly destroyed him at the time. Because he can still remember it clearly as the day that Bucky was the man your family had wished you'd ended up with, especially after he cheated and you still chose to take him back despite everyone telling you he didn't deserve a second chance. And now, watching you run toward him gets under his skin immediately.
Tony moves before he can think too much about it.
"I got it," he says suddenly, already grabbing your arm.
You yanked your arm away that even Bucky was stunned. Tony just steps in close, like he's taking over the situation now, but the second your eyes meet his, something inside you hardens again.
You just remember the bedroom argumentâPepper and everything unresolved sitting between you two.
Your attention goes right back to Bucky. "I'm really sorry," you whisper again, still guilty, "I will get you an ice pack."
Bucky gives you that same soft look despite the bruise forming on his lip that looked like he got into a bar fight.
"It's okay, doll, thank you," he murmurs quietly.
The petname lands badly in the room. Tony's jaw tightens almost instantly. Everyone notices but you barely react because your brain has already moved to Wanda.
After getting some ice pack and handing it to Buck, you immediately find Wanda in the living room. She's beside Pepper again. She is not just sitting near herâpressed against her side so closely that Pepper is practically leaning away without trying to make it obvious. Wanda's shoulder keeps bumping into her arm every few seconds, her knee pushed against the woman's leg.
Pepper looks up the second she notices you looking and the relief in her expression is immediate. Because she's been trying to tolerate this on her own while the rest of the room awkwardly pretended not to stare.
"She came back," Pepper says carefully, trying to keep her voice even. "I thought she finallyâŠbehaved."
You're already walking toward them before she finishes talking.
"Wanda," you call gently, trying not to sound frustrated even though you can feel exhaustion starting to sit heavy in your bones now.
Wanda doesn't answer.
She just keeps staring down at her plate for a second too long. Then suddenlyâshe drags the spoon harshly across it. Food splatters immediately. A wet smear landing across Pepper's sleeve and lap.
She jerks back with a startled sound. "Fuckâ"
But before anyone can react properly, Wanda does it again. This time it was worse. Her hand pushes directly into the food, shoving fruit and sauce over the edge of the plate carelessly until it spills across Pepper's clothes, the couch, even onto the floor.
Steve and Clint look genuinely shocked.
Tony's already walking again from across the room, tension written all over his face now.
"Wanda," you say more firmly now, stepping directly in front of her. "Enough."
That finally makes her pause.
"Okayâno, this is getting out of hand!" Pepper interrupts, shifting forward as she brushes food off her sleeve. "I don't know what this is supposed to be, but this is notâthis is not acceptable behavior."
But you barely even hear her anymore because your attention is completely on Wanda. Your hand clamped around Wanda's wrist before she could even move away. You grabbed a napkin and wiped sauce from the corner of Wanda's mouth yourself, then cleared every dish off her lap in one swift motion.
Pepper kept yelling but it blurred into background noise until finally, your patience snapped.
"You're never gonna be a fit mom!"
Maybe it was the wine sitting warm in your system making your patience thinner than usual or the years of resentment toward this woman who'd inserted herself between you and your husband. Or maybeâŠit was the phrase that she just said a couple of seconds ago. Your palm connected sharply across Pepper's faceâthe sound cracking through the living room.
Her hand flew to her stinging cheek. Her eyes wide with shock, then burning with rageâlocked onto you.
"Y/N!" Tony shouted, at first you thought he was gonna run towards you but instead she ran towards Pepper.
A small smirk slowly pulled at your lips then. You gave this tiny nod to yourself, eyes lingering on the two of them. Without another glance at them, at Pepperâwho was still shouting behind you now, voice cracking into something almost hystericalâor at Tony whose face had gone completely pale, you tightened your grip around Wanda's wrist and walked straight out of the living room.
The hallway upstairs felt colder somehow, quieter, the muffled chaos downstairs fading the further you pulled Wanda away from it. Your heels hit hard against the floor while she followed silently behind you, allowing herself to be dragged.
"What you did wasn't nice," you suddenly snap the second you reach the hallway corner, finally turning toward her. Your voice comes out sharper than intended, strained and uneven from alcohol, anger, and frustration all mixing together into one ugly mess inside your chest.
Wanda says nothing, she just looks at you.
"You hurt my friend," you continue immediately, words starting to tumble out faster now. "You pushed Buck, you threw food everywhere, you kept acting out and everyone was trying so hard to be patient with youâ"
Your breathing shakes.
"And PepperâGod, Wanda, what was that downstairs?"
The irony of that question hits somewhere in the back of your mind considering you were the one who slapped Pepper in the end, but your emotions are too tangled right now to process your own guilt properly.
Maybe it's the wine talking.
Maybe it's heartbreak.
Maybe it's the fact that your entire marriage feels like it's cracking apart underneath your feet tonight and Wanda somehow became the easiest target to pour all that hurt onto.
"You can't just ruin everything whenever you're upset," you ramble on, voice quieter now but more emotional. "People get hurt. People get uncomfortable. And I'm trying so hard to help you and understand you but you keepâ"
Her eyes stay fixed on your face while tears gather helplessly in your eyes again, your hand violently wrapped around her wrist.
"You're hurting me."
The words immediately snap you back to reality.
"Oh my God," the faint scent of wine clings to your breath and your skin when you speak, subtle but noticeable enough this close. "Baby, I'm sorry."
You immediately pull her into your arms before thinking too hard about it, hugging her tightly against your chest. The second your arms wrap around her, Wanda melts into you almost instantly, like she'd been manipulating you to do exactly that. Even though she wasn't really hurt.
"I'm sorry," your voice shakes, tears threatening against your eyes. You are drunk, emotional and exhausted and barely holding yourself together anymore. "Tonight's justâŠbad. Okay? Mommy's just having a bad night."
Her arms slowly slide around your waist beneath the embrace, holding onto you quietly while you continue rubbing her back like you're trying to comfort both of you at once.
"Come on," you whisper gently.
You slowly guide her down the hallway toward her room. The moment you step inside, you close the door behind you with a soft click. You immediately turn away from Wanda and head toward the dresser to somewhat avoid her, you feel ashamed and guilty for pouring your anger out on her.
Your fingers fumbled slightly against the drawer handle as you pulled it open harder than intended. Your movements feel slower now, heavier somehow, and you suddenly realize just how much the alcohol has settled into your system.
But still you kept moving.
Back to the bathroom. Open the dresser. Grab clothes. Back to the bedroom. Towel. Pajamas. Watergun toys, is that even needed? You pace around like if you stop for even one second, everything from tonight is going to hit you all at once.
"The bathtub's done," you say shakily, embarrassed as you rub tiredly at your forehead. "You can go in now, sweetie."
"Will you come too?"
For a second you genuinely don't understand the question.
Your brain feels slow now, the alcohol humming through your system only makes the numbness worse, wrapping everything in this warm hazy fog that keeps pulling you away from reality every few seconds. You stare at Wanda while confusion twists inside your chest again.
Is this still part of the test?
"Mommy?" The sound of Wanda's voice pulls you back immediately.
You blink hard and finally look at her.
Of course it is. You need to bathe your child.
"Yeah, sure sweetie, of course."
When you finally stepped into the bathroom again, Wanda was already sitting inside the bathtub, water high against her chest while steam curled softly around her.
You carefully stepped closer, but the second your foot hit the wet tile, you almost slipped.
"Whoaâ"
Wanda caught you immediately.
Her hands grabbed your arm from inside the tub to steady you. The sudden contact made you flinch automatically again, your whole body tensing for half a second before you caught yourself.
And Wanda felt it.
You laughed nervously, "Sorry," you mumbled softly.
Still holding your arms carefully, Wanda guided you closer until you finally sat down on the edge of the bathtub.
And somehow your heart is beating faster than it was. Your fingers tightened unconsciously around the edge of the bathtub while Wanda stayed close between your knees in the water, eyes fixed on your face.
Then suddenly, her hands pressed lightly against your legs.
You almost shrieked just as Wanda gently pushed your knees farther apart. She looked up at you quietly before settling there between your legs in the warm water, resting her cheek against your thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Your breath caught awkwardly in your throat at the position. So just to distract yourself you quickly reached for the shampoo bottle sitting nearby. You poured some shampoo into your palm before gently working it into Wanda's damp red hair, fingers moving carefully through the strands.
Wanda stayed quiet while you worked the shampoo slowly through her hair, warm water shifting softly around her in the tub. Your fingers moved lazily now, slower from the wine and exhaustion settling deeper into your body.
Then you felt her fingertips tracing absent little patterns against your thigh underneath the water.
After a long silence, she spoke softly.
"I'm sorry, mommy."
Your fingers paused briefly in her hair. "Hm?"
"The way I acted earlier." Her voice was quieter now, almost sulking. "With your friend."
You blinked down at her. For a second you almost forgot what she meant until Bucky flashed back into your head.
Wanda's fingers slowed against your thigh. "He just keeps touching you," she muttered softly. "And he calls you doll."
"What?" The wine in your system made an incredulous little giggle slip out of you before you could stop it. You shook your head a little while your fingers continued slowly working through her hair. "Baby, Bucky's my friend."
Wanda didn't laugh with you.
"You ran to him," she muttered after a second, almost sulking now. "And he touches you a lot, mommy."
Your smile weakened slightly at that. "Because he got hurt," you explained tiredly. "You pushed him pretty hard, sweetheart."
Her jaw tightened just slightly.
"But you always tense when I touch you."
The alcohol buzzing through your head made your reaction slower and another disbelieving little laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
Because suddenly the way she was looking at you didn't feel childish anymore. It didn't feel playful either.
"I...I'm just stressed," you whispered, lips trembling. "I'm sorry."
Wanda carefully climbed onto her knees on the porcelain tub so she could look at you properly. Her hands rested lightly against your legs to steady herself.
"Do you want to destress, mommy?"
The bathroom light gilds the soft edges of Wanda's hair where she kneels between your thighs. Your wine-warmed breath comes fast, gaze darting from her wide dark eyes down to her full, waiting lips. You swallow hard before you speak, voice thin and already giving out.
"IsâŠis this still just part of the test?"
"Whatever you want this to beâŠmommy."
Every instinct you have screams it at you. The assessment. The role you've been playing and the role Wanda has been playing. The way Wanda looks at you and the way you've started looking back. Somewhere along the way, the lines became so blurred that you stopped seeing where they were.
You were supposed to be proving you could build a family, that you're capable of taking care of a child. Now, you're losing yourself in the process.
Her lips seal over yours before you can answer, one palm sliding up to cup your breast through your dress, the other working open the buttons down your front slowly. She pushes your open dress back to bare your skin to the warm bathroom air, her mouth closing soft around one nipple while her hand kneads the other. Her full breasts press warm against your lower stomach as she leans in, sucking gentle, the quiet hum of her pleasure vibrating through your chest.
Your head falls back against the tiled wall, a soft, breathy moan spilling from your lips before you can bite it back.
She now shuffles lower and locks your legs separately between her arms. Her dark eyes lock on yours, hot and hungry, before she goes down and licks a slow, broad stroke up against your pussy.
Your back arches off the wall, a sharp shriek tearing out of you.
"Wanda!"
Her fingers dig soft into the flesh of your thighs to hold you open, mouth working slow and hungry against you. She flicks her tongue over your sensitive pussy in steady circles, groaning soft against your skin when your hands tangle tight in her hair, your hips jerking up against her face unbidden.
The stray thought nips at the edge of your fuzzy, pleasure-drunk brain, but it dissolves the second she sucks harder and harder. All you can hold onto is the heat coiling in your gut, the way your assessor feels between your legs, the assessment completely forgotten under the wave of what she's doing to you.
One minute you're braced against the cool porcelain tub, the next you're sinking into a soft mattress and warm sheets. Wanda's all over you, breaths hot against your face, every hard thrust forcing your cunt to clench tight around something you couldn't identify.
Your tits bounces as she fucks you, soft flesh jiggling with every move. She drops her mouth to suck a dark mark over your nipple, groaning low when you arch up into her, your hands tightening in her messy hair.
"You deserve this. You deserve to have a child of your own. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their mother."
All you can do is gasp out broken moans, her name and soft yeses tumbling out over and over, no matter what she says.
"And I get to be your little one first, don't I, mommy? Get to make you feel how good I can be for you."
She nips at the supple skin of your chest all the way to the base of your throat, voice rough and hungry.
The tight knot in your belly snaps a second later, white hot pleasure crashing over you so hard your vision whites out. The last thing you feel before you go limp and completely pass out is warm, thick liquid flooding deep inside you.
For a long moment, Wanda simply watches.
The room is dark, quiet except for the steady rhythm of your breathing. You look peaceful for the first time after everything that happened, completely unaware of the thoughts moving behind her eyes.
A strange smile slowly appears on her face. A certain kind of smile.
For the entire duration of the assessment, you had been nothing but sweet, patient, and understanding. You comforted her after every outburst. Wrapped your arms around her when she was upset. Spent your energy making sure she was okay while your own world was quietly falling apart around you. And somehow, no matter how exhausted or heartbroken you became, you never stopped taking care of her.
Because that's what every mothers do.
You spoke gently when she was difficult, stayed calm when she was disruptive, and offered comfort when it would have been easier to walk away. Even on the days when she pushed boundaries or when she made your life harder. Wanda tested every ounce of your self-control and you never truly gave up on her.
Just now.
"You really would do everything for your child," she whispers. "You don't even realize you're doing it already."
Her fingers brush a strand of hair from your face.
"You're going to be such a good mom."
ᱏ
You blink awake to the dull ache of numbness crawling up your forearm, the weight of something warm pressing down on it through the sheets. When you turned your head, your eyes widened as you stared at Wanda whose arms wrapped around your waist, your brain scrambling to remember how the hell you'd ended up hereânothing. Just a headache, a few blurry flashes from last night, and a growing sense of panic.
The last thing you can remember isâŠ
IsâŠ
What was the last thing you did last night?
You slipped out of the bed carefully, making sure not to wake Wanda. She was still asleep, curled beneath the blankets. You watched her for a moment before quietly leaving and made your way to your room. When you pushed open the door the first thing you noticed was that Tony wasn't there where you expected himâthe bed was untouched on one side. No sign he'd slept there at all. Your stomach tightened, but you forced yourself not to think about it. You moved toward the dresser, grabbing a fresh set of clothes before catching sight of yourself in the mirror.
You froze.
Just above your chest was a faint mark you didn't remember getting.
"What the hell?" you muttered.
Your fingers brushed over it instinctively. The second you did, something flashed through your mindâa fragment of a memory.
Warm water.
A voice.
A hand reaching toward you.
Then it was gone so fast you almost convinced yourself you only imagined it.
You immediately shoved the thought away and got dressed as quickly as you could. Whatever this isâit could all wait. Right now, you need to find your husband. The absence from his side of the bed was already making your stomach twist.
The moment you step downstairs, you are welcomed by a disaster. Dirty plates were still scattered around the living room and dining area, half-finished drinks abandoned on tables, remnants of last night's chaos left exactly where they had fallen. Nobody even had cleaned a thing.
Then your eyes landed on the kitchen counter.
Two glasses of wine.
You found yourself walking toward them before you could think better of it. One sat beside the other. Slowly, you picked one up. The second your eyes caught the faint lipstick stain smeared across the rim, something inside you dropped.
"Tony?" you called out as you stepped away from the counter, but still no answer came.
The silence felt heavier than it should have. Swallowing hard, you glanced around.
"FRIDAY, where's Tony?"
There was a brief pause before your husband's invention answered calmly.
"Tony departed at 11:43 PM last night. He accompanied Ms. Potts to take her home."
The thought hit you so hard you had to grip the counter.
A bitter laugh escaped you.
Instead of checking on his wife, he went with Pepper. The same woman who had already caused enough damage to your relationship. The same woman he once cheated on you with. Out of everyone in the house, that was the person he chose to accompany.
And what were you supposed to think about that? That it was innocent? That he was just being nice? That he somehow didn't realize how bad it looked?
You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. God, you always did. But standing there with the wine glass and the lipstick stain staring back at you, all you could think was that when you needed him most, Tony had chosen someone else.
Again.
For a second, you just stood there staring at nothing. It felt like everything was falling apart all over again.
You and Tony, the assessmentâthe future you had been fighting for. The dream of finally having a child with your husband after years of waiting, years of defending and choosing him, years of trying to build something stable enough to bring a family into. It suddenly felt like someone had grabbed that future and started tearing pieces off it right in front of you.
You pressed both hands against the counter as you tried to breathe. But the harder you tried to hold yourself together, the worse it got. Because you had done everything right? Every-fucking-thing.
A broken laugh escaped you before turning into a sob.
You could feel it building now. That horrible pressure in your chest. Your hands were shaking and your breathing was uneven. You were seconds away from crashing out right there in the kitchen but when you looked up you saw Wanda standing at the doorway. You wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, your voice cracking.
"Are we both needed to withdraw from the assessment?"
The assessment itself had been hard. God, it has been hard. It tested your patience, your marriage, your ability to keep going even when you felt like falling apart. You had poured so much of yourself into it because you wanted that future so badly. You wanted the child at the end of it. You wanted the family. But ending it? Ending it took less than five minutes. Somehow, that hurt more than anything else.
You sat across from Wanda in complete silence, the screen glowing in her hands as she handed it to you. Your eyes barely focused on the final confirmation prompt as your hand hovered over the screen. Wanda didn't say a word, she just watched. The room felt strangely still as you took a shaky breath and clicked CONFIRM. Just like that, it was over.
Wanda stared at the darkened screen for a long moment after you clicked the final confirmation.
"The assessment is over."
You nodded and didn't say a word.
Wanda watched you carefully. She looked down for a moment before nodding slowly. "I should probably start packing my things now."
This wasn't how Wanda imagined things would go. The assessment wasn't supposed to end this early and you definitely weren't supposed to be pulling the plug on it. Everything had gotten messy way too fast. Tony, Pepper, the withdrawalânone of it was part of the timeline she had in mind, well maybe Tony and Pepper was. But as disappointing as it was to see everything cut short, Wanda couldn't bring herself to be too upset about it. Because at the end of the day, the important part was already done. Whatever she needed to happen had already happened. The rest would unfold on its own.
Wanda quietly started packing her things upstairs while you stood in the kitchen feeling completely lost on what to do next. There were bigger problems waiting for youâTony, your marriage, the assessment you had just ended, the fact that you will never ever have a childâbut somehow your mind kept drifting back to the fact that Wanda was leaving. Somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, you'd grown attached to her. You felt like you and Wanda had connected in a way you hadn't expected, and now the thought of never seeing her again felt heavier than it probably should have.
You knew you should probably be downstairs cleaning up the disaster left behind from last night but instead, you found yourself lingering in Wanda's doorway before quietly offering to help her with her stuff. It was a simple excuse and you both probably knew it. The truth was you weren't ready for her to leave yet. You feel like there was still so much unresolved between the two of you or maybe you're just assuming.
You reminded yourself that she was a professional. An assessorâthis was her job. Everything that happened here was part of the assessment, part of a process she'd probably gone through dozens of times with other candidates before you. The connection you felt, the attachment, the comfort of having her aroundâit wasn't supposed to mean anything beyond that.
"Mrs. Stark, it's fine," Wanda said quietly, reaching for the shirt you were already folding.
"You're too formal," you said with a nervous little laugh, shaking your head as you continued folding one of her shirts.
Wanda paused what she was doing and looked up at you.
"Do you prefer when I call you mommy?"
Your fingers fumble the shirt you're holding, heat creeping up your neck fast, and Wanda just watches you, quiet and patient, her dark eyes soft but unblinking, waiting for your answer. You are suddenly very interested in organizing the contents of her bag.
"You would've been a good mom." She said all of a sudden.
The words almost broke you.
You laughed once, shakily, looking away before the tears could start again. "Doesn't really matter now, does it?"
Wanda wasn't supposed to do this. Once the assessment ended or withdrawn, assessors were meant to remain professional, detached, and impartial. They observed, recorded, and delivered resultsâthat was all. Comforting candidates wasn't part of the job description. Getting emotionally involved certainly wasn't. Yet as she sat across from you, she found herself doing exactly what she was never supposed to do.
"You'd still be a good mom." Wanda said quietly, and although something about the way she said it felt strange, you were too exhausted and heartbroken to think much of it, brushing the comment aside without realizing what she actually meant.
Because even now, with everything seemingly falling apart, Wanda knew things were moving exactly where she wanted them to go.
Like how she set the black silicone peeking out of her open duffel bag for you to see only for her to yank the bag shut, pulling the object out of your line of sight fast.
You blink hard a couple of times, squinting at the closed duffel sitting on the floor, wondering if the bright morning light tricked your eyes. You clear your throat awkwardly, words tumbling out nervous and fast. Your hands twisting in the hem of her folded shirt in your hands before putting it down.
"Iâuhm, I'll go now. I gotta fix all the mess downstairs."
You hear the sharp zip of her duffel opening behind you just as you reach the door. Her soft voice follows, warm and low.
"You looked tense. Wanna destress again?"
You turn, and she holds the unmistakingly black silicone strap-on out, tilting her head.
"Mommy?"
The memory ends there.
Or maybe your brain refuses to remember the rest.
Now, weeks later, you're standing in your bathroom with trembling hands, your mind completely blank as you stare at the impossible reality in front of you, not knowing what the hell you're supposed to do next.
FRIDAY has informed you that your recent biometric scans indicate several anomalies. You laughed it off at first. Maybe because of stress, grief, exhaustion, your husband barely talking to you. God knew you'd been dealing with enough of that lately. But when FRIDAY flagged it a second time, and then a third, and then there's morning sickness and puking around.
That's what led you here, standing in the bathroom with two black-market pregnancy tests sitting on the counter in front of you because tests like these weren't supposed to exist anymore, not legally nor in your world.
Natural pregnancy had become obsolete decades agoâpainful, unpredictable, unnecessary. Children were approved, assigned, and monitored by the government. If you were deemed suitable after assessment, the government will provided everything. Including confirmation, the child, the future you'd spent years dreaming aboutâright up until the moment you withdrew from the assessment.
Your eyes flicked back to the tests.
Positive.
Positive.
Two positives.
The assessment was over. The government never approved you because you yourself had terminated the process.
So how the fuck were you pregnant?
One trembling hand flew to your mouth while the other instinctively pressed against your stomach. Not because you could feel anything thereâGod, it was far too early for thatâbut because your brain couldn't seem to process what your eyes were seeing.
You didn't tell Tony or FRIDAY but you knew FRIDAY would know, at this point he's acting more like your husband than your real husband. The second the panic wore off, one thought kept repeating in your head over and over until it drowned out everything elseâWanda.
If anyone had answers, it was her.
The address took you clear across the city, far away from the polished towers and government housing districts you were used to. By the time you arrived, your stomach was in knots. The building in front of you was old, cramped, and worn down by years of neglect. Nothing like the places assessors were usually associated with.
You were hesitating as you stared at the apartment number in front of you. Then, before you could lose your nerve, you raised your hand and knocked.
The door opened after a few seconds.
Wanda stood in an oversized shirt and a pair of sweatpants, looking far different from the polished assessor you'd known during the assessment. Her hair was slightly messy, like she'd just gotten out of bed or had been lying on the couch.
Her eyes widened the second she recognized you.
"Y/N?" she said quietly.
Your throat tightened.
Seeing her again felt strange. Too familiar and too distant at the same time. Weeks had passed since she'd left, yet somehow it felt like no time had passed at all.
Something shifted behind her eyes. The surprise disappeared quickly. And when her eyes slowly lifted back to yours, there was a strange look on her face you couldn't quite place.
"Come in," she said softly, stepping aside.
Like she already knew why you were there.
The moment you stepped inside, the door hadn't even finished closing behind you before the question came out.
"What did you do?" Your voice shook. The apartment was small, barely bigger than a studio and it felt suffocating. Your pulse was roaring in your ears. "What did you do to me?" you repeated.
Wanda stared at you for a long second. "Y/Nâ"
"No." Your voice cracked. "Don't do that. Don't act like you don't know why I'm here."
Your hands were trembling now. You hated that they were trembling.
"I withdrew from the assessment." You say letting out with a disbelieving sound. "I ended it. I signed everything. It was over."
Wanda's eyes never left yours.
"And then I got morning sickness, FRIDAY had detected it. I had to buy illegal pregnancy tests." The words spilled out faster with every breath. "I took two. Both are positive, Wanda."
For the first time since you arrived, Wanda's expression changed. And suddenly, that terrified you more than anything.
"I am fucking pregnant. What did you do?! BecauseâŠbecause this can't be! I can't be!"
The silence that followed felt suffocating. Your chest rose and fell too fast, your hands shaking at your sides as you stared at her, searching her face for anythingâdenial, shock, guilt, anything that made sense of the impossible mess you were standing in. But nothing.
"What did you do?!"
She steps closer, a soft, slow smile spreading across her face that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. She doesn't look surprised at all, just calm and sure, and her voice is gentle when she says the words that make your skin prickle with cold.
"You deserve to be a mother."
"That doesn't answer my question! I couldn't be pregnant. No one can! Iâ"
Wanda took a careful step toward you. "Y/Nâ"
"Don't you dare come at me."
Her expression softened, but it only made your skin crawl.
"Please," she said quietly. "Just listen to me."
The gentleness in her voice felt wrongâmanufactured, rehearsed, like someone trying to soothe an animal caught in a trap.
"People were told pregnancy had become impossible. That the human body could no longer sustain it naturally. It was easier that way. Easier to govern a population that believed reproduction belonged entirely to the State."
Wanda's expression softened trying to get you to listen and understand, though it did nothing to lessen the horror settling over you.
"The government issues every assessor a conception device," she said quietly. "Officially, it's classified as genetic transfer equipment. Unofficially...no one is allowed to call it what it really is." She let out a humorless laugh. "Each device is registered to a single assessor. It carries only that assessor's genetic material, encrypted and traceable. Every use is logged, every activation recorded, every pregnancy tied back to the file of the mother deemed suitable."
You stared at her, unable to speak.
"Every assessor is told the same thing before they're sworn inâYou're not creating a child. You're preserving humanity. That's how they justify it. That's how they convince us we're serving a greater good."
"You stole my choice!" You wailed, not caring about what she's saying now.
A slow smile spread across Wanda's face.
"No, I gave you a future. You deserve this. You deserve to be a mother."
The day she'd left your apartment, you'd said it was just a one time thing, a choice born of loneliness and all the unresolved hunger no one else had bothered to feed. She'd just smiled, kissed your cheek, and told you she understood, even as she'd pressed her government-issued equipment strap onâdeep inside you one last time, slow and soft like she was marking something as hers.
She'd made love to you that morning like she already knew what would happen weeks later. You'd thought it was just a final goodbye, when she finished and pulled out, when you felt that warm cum drip slow down your thigh, and wiped it away with your hand and thought nothing of it, just another messy leftover of a secret you planned to bury.
Not knowing that it would bloom into a life you didn't expect. A life that you thought was impossible to make in this world.
You sink onto the hardwood floor, hands pressed against your temples as the memory finally clicks into place. That last night before Wanda leftâthe wine, the exhaustion, the gaps in your memory. You'd passed out somewhere between the bathtub and her bed, too drunk and overwhelmed to remember much of anything. When you woke up sore the next morning, you'd blamed it on the alcohol, the stress, and everything that happened the night before that. You never questioned it. Never dug deeper. Not until now.
Your stomach is twisting so hard you think you might be sick right there in front of her. The memories and the words came back to you, clear as the night she whispered them against your lightly conscious mind while you were passed out, when you were still playing the parts of a mother and an assessorâher as your child.
"You really would do everything for your child."
"You don't even realize you're doing it already."
It was so wrong, how you'd never have chosen this, never have crossed that line on purpose. You'd never do something so dirty and wrong with your child like what she just said.
"You give so much. You deserve to be a mother."
Fuck, it sounded so wrong! You were so disgusted. It is so fucking wrong you wanted to puke.
But in the dark quiet of her home, the truth hangs heavy and scary. You took Wanda in, gave her every part of yourself, crossed every line no rule book ever dared to name, all out of the soft, generous love that lives in your bones. You never hesitated, never pulled back when she needed more than what a proper mother should give.
You already loved her like your child.
Cared for her like your own.
And you even fucked her while she was acting like your own.
That is the proof no assessment could ever properly captureâyou were made to be a mother, through every line you crossed, every need you filled, no matter how forbidden it was supposed to be.
The bass thumped low through the underground club like a second heartbeat. Dim red lighting washed over velvet booths and bodies pressed too close together. You tugged at the hem of the dangerously short dress Natasha had squeezed you into, the silk clinging to every curve like it had been painted on. A slit ran high up your thigh, and the neckline plunged low enough that you felt exposed in the best and worst ways. Heels taller than anything youâd ever trained in made your legs look endless.
âRemember,â Steveâs voice crackled softly through the tiny comm in your ear, âyouâre the distraction. Get close to the target, get him talking, and weâll handle the rest. Wandaâs on overwatch.â
Your stomach flipped at her name. Wanda Maximoff. The woman who barely spoke two words to you since youâd joined the team almost two months ago. The woman whose green eyes followed you across every briefing room but never held yours for long. The woman you were stupidly, hopelessly in love with, even though she clearly couldnât stand you.
You swallowed and adjusted the delicate pendant around your neck. It was meant to make you stand out as an easy target: wealthy and stupid. "Copy." Your voice crackled through the comms for everyone to hear, and you had to steady your breathing to keep it from shaking. You couldn't risk sounding like a little bitch during a mission where everyone, including Wanda, was counting on your performance to distract the target.Â
Pietro had tried to reassure you once before. He had cornered you in the compound kitchen with that knowing smirk. "She doesn't hate you, printsessa. Trust me." He had promised you. But then he'd zipped away before explaining, leaving you more confused than ever.
Across the club, you spotted the target: Victor Hale, arms dealer with a weakness for pretty girls who looked like they enjoyed trouble. You painted on a sultry smile and started toward him, hips swaying with every step. You could feel eyes on you. Not just the ones you wanted.
Since you had started living at the compound, you'd gotten along surprisingly well with the team. Natasha always offered to spar with you and hyped you up during training. Bucky made a habit of bringing you coffee every morning exactly how you liked it. Pietro cracked jokes and teased you, ruffling your hair after every training session. They were all so welcoming and kind in their own ways, which made adjusting to your new life easier.
You reached Hale's booth and leaned against the table, letting the dress do half the work for you.Â
"Mind if I join you?" you purred, voice low and honey-sweet. "It's too crowded out there for a girl like me."
Hale's eyes raked over you, his gaze slow and predatory. "For a woman who looks like she could be my sweetest sin? Always."
You laughed softly, sliding into the booth beside him. Close enough to smell the overpowering cologne he had covered himself in. Close enough to feel Wanda's gaze burning into the back of your neck from her shadowed position near the bar.
She too was undercover. Her only job was to monitor your live interactions with Hale and intervene quickly if things went sideways. But she had strict orders not to draw any attention to herself or interrupt your conversation unless there was an emergency. It meant that she'd had to change outfits as well. From the quick, stolen glance you'd allowed yourself, she was wearing a sleek black cocktail dress that hugged her figure with elegant restraint. It was modest enough at the neckline to blend in, but short enough to show off her long, toned legs, paired with a leather jacket that gave her an edge of dangerous sophistication. Her red hair fell in soft waves over one shoulder, and the subtle smokiness around her eyes made her look effortlessly lethal.
God, she was stunning. Your mouth went dry for a second, heat pooling low in your belly as you tried to force your focus back onto Hale. Stay on mission, you scolded yourself. But the image of Wanda in that dress lingered, making it far harder to concentrate on the delicate situation you were stuck in.
You moved forward with your mission, creating flirty conversation while sneaking in subtle questions about his business, your fingers brushing his arm while you listened to him brag about his illegal affairs.Â
Every time you leaned in closer to Hale, laughing at one of his weak jokes, you caught glimpses of movement near the bar. A flash of red hair shifting, shoulders tensing. Scarlet red energy flickering faintly at the edge of your vision before vanishing completely. You wondered, just for a heartbeat, if something was wrong. Maybe someone had tipped Hale off and he was playing along. Maybe it was all too easy. Maybe Wanda had spotted an unseen threat. Seconds passed, and you held your breath for a moment, waiting, but she stayed in position. Professional. Silent. Like always.
Twenty minutes later, Hale's hand landed high on your thigh under the table. "You're wasted on the dance floor, sweetheart. Come somewhere quieter with me. I've got a private lounge in the back."
Your pulse spiked. The plan had been clear: stay in the open bar where Wanda could watch and extract you if needed. Get the intel on his shipments, slip away, and let the team track the warehouse for a coordinated assault later. But Hale was finally opening up, and this was an opportunity. If you got him alone, you could take him down quietly, drag him back to the compound for questioning, and cut the whole operation short. It went against protocol; it was risky and impulsive, but you were confident you could handle it.
You smiled, slow and inviting, ignoring the way your comm stayed suspiciously quiet. âLead the way.â
He guided you through a dimly lit hallway, past velvet curtains, into a luxurious back room with a leather couch, low lighting, and a locked door. The second it clicked shut, his demeanor shifted. Greedy hands reached for your waist, pulling you flush against him. His palms roamed lower, squeezing your ass roughly as he ground against you, one hand sliding up to grope your breast through the thin silk.
âYou feel even better than you look,â he growled, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. The strap of your dress snapped under the force, the fabric tearing down the front with a sharp rip that left you exposed, lace bra barely covering you as cool air hit your skin.
You moved faster. A sharp elbow to the ribs, a knee to the groin, and a whack over the head with the wooden clock left on a desk near the door. Hale crumpled with a groan. Your hands fumbled into your dress, pulling out zip-ties. You tied his wrists quickly, heart hammering.
âTarget down,â you whispered into the comm. âHeâs out. Iâm fine.â
No response. "I repeat, target down. All clear." High-pitched static answered instead. Your comms had cut out.
You exhaled, rolling your shoulders, trying to tug the ruined dress back into place when the door burst open with a crack of splintering wood.
Wanda stood there, eyes glowing bright scarlet, chest heaving like sheâd sprinted the entire way. For one terrifying second her gaze locked on you, topless except for the lacy black bra, skin flushed and marked with fingerprints, the shallow cut bleeding sluggishly on your collarbone. Then she was on you.
Her hands grabbed your shoulders, firm but trembling. She pulled you against her chest, one arm wrapping around your back as the other frantically checked you over. Her fingers ghosted over the cut, the bruises forming on your ribs, the torn strap of your dress. She tilted your chin up, green eyes wide and desperate as they searched your face for any sign of serious injury. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts against your hair. She didnât speak, she just held you tight, hands roaming with a gentleness that contradicted the chaos magic sparking at her fingertips. For a moment, all you felt was relief in her touch.
Then she pulled back just enough to look at you properly. The relief in her eyes hardened into something sharper, hotter.
âWhat the hell do you think youâre doing?â she whisper-shouted, voice low and cracking with barely contained fury. âYou were supposed to stay in the bar! I had eyes on you, I was ready to pull you out, and you just- just walked off with him? Alone? Do you have any idea what could have happened?â
Her hands were still gripping your arms, tight enough to anchor you but shaking with the aftermath of fear. You opened your mouth to explain, but the roar of the Quinjetâs engines cut through the hallway as Tonyâs voice crackled over the backup channel.
âPackage secured. Weâre pulling you both out right now. Move!â
Wandaâs jaw clenched. She didnât let go of your arm as she half-dragged, half-guided you toward the extraction point, her silence now heavier than any words. The team was waiting, expressions shifting from victory to confusion as they took in the scene from your torn dress and the blood to Wandaâs rigid fury.
The ride back to the compound was agonizingly long.
You sat wrapped in a blanket someone had tossed over your shoulders, shivering more from the weight of everything than the cold. The team tried to celebrate at first. Steve clapped you on the back (gently), praising the intel youâd already gathered. Natasha offered a small, proud smirk. But the tension rolling off Wanda was impossible to ignore. She sat directly across from you, arms crossed tight over her chest, jaw locked, eyes burning holes into the floor⊠then flicking to the cut on your collarbone⊠then to the blanket slipping off your shoulder. Every time her gaze lingered, her lips pressed thinner.
No one dared speak directly to either of you. The usual post-mission banter died quickly. Pietro shot you a worried glance, then looked at his sister and wisely stayed quiet. The Quinjet hummed on, minutes stretching into what felt like hours. You kept your eyes down, stomach twisting. Youâd broken protocol. Youâd scared her. She already avoided you, now sheâd never look at you again. The silence dragged, thick and suffocating, every second amplifying the ache in your chest.
By the time the Quinjet finally landed at the compound, you felt raw and small. Wanda stood first, storming down the ramp without a backward glance, red leather jacket flaring behind her as she headed straight for the living quarters.
You followed before you could talk yourself out of it, heart pounding in your throat.
âWanda, wait-â
She didnât slow down, boots echoing sharply down the corridor. âLeave me alone.â
âWanda, please, just let me explain-â
âI said leave me alone!â Her voice cracked as she kept walking, shoulders hunched like she was holding herself together by sheer force of will. âPiss off, Y/n. I canât do this right now.â
You kept chasing, voice desperate and breaking. âIâm sorry! I know I fucked up, I went off plan, I shouldnât have gone to the back room, but I thought I could handle it and bring him in and-â
She shoved open her door but didnât slam it in your face. You slipped inside after her, closing it softly.
The room was dim, lit only by a single lamp. Wanda stood with her back to you, shoulders rigid, fists clenched at her sides.
âIâm sorry,â you whispered, voice cracking. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. âI know I went off-plan. I thought I could handle it. I didnât mean to ruin the mission or make the teamâs job harder-â
Wanda spun around, eyes blazing with unshed tears and raw fury. âYou didnât mean to? Do you have any idea what I went through watching that? His hands on you, that dress ripping, you disappearing where I couldnât see you-â
You flinched, assuming the worst. âI know. I broke protocol. Steveâs going to be pissed and I deserve it. I put the whole operation at risk because I got cocky and thought I could finish it myself. Iâm so sorry if I made you look bad in front of everyone or complicated things for the team-â
âThatâs not-â Wanda cut herself off, breathing hard. She took a shaky step closer, then another, until she was right in front of you. Her hands hovered like she wanted to grab you but was afraid to. âYou think this is about the plan? About Steve or the team?â
You blinked, the disappointment in your voice seeping through. âWhat else would it be about? Youâve barely spoken to me since I got here. You've known from the start that I'm not cut out for this. Tonight just proved it.â
Wanda stared at you for a long moment, something pained and disbelieving flickering across her face. Then the words started pouring out.
âI was terrified,â she choked. Her voice low as she took the slightest step towards you. She looked up and you could see vulnerability spilling out of her light green eyes. âNot about the mission. About you. I watched him pull you away and my mind wouldnât stop showing me everything that could go wrong. You bleeding out on the floor. You not coming back. I couldnât reach you, I couldnât protect you, and I thought-" her voice cut off abruptly, thick with emotion.
"Wanda," her name fell from your lips gently as you reached out for her. She shook her head, continuing.
"I thought I was going to lose you." You froze, the air leaving your lungs.Â
"Lose me?"Â
âIâve been terrified since the day you joined,â she continued, voice trembling as she stepped even closer. âTerrified because youâre brilliant and kind and so fucking beautiful it hurts. You remember the little things about people, like Natasha's favourite movies because I know you've watched them all, or how Pietro needs someone to laugh at his dumb jokes so he doesnât feel alone. You stay late in the training room helping people even when youâre exhausted. Youâre so sweet it makes my chest ache, and then you walk into a room looking like a literal goddess and every idiot on this team starts circling you. Sam with his âjust the two of usâ sparring. Bucky with the coffee. I watch it all, but I wanna be the one who does all that for you. I want to be the reason you smile like that.â
Her voice dropped, thick with emotion again. "Being around you makes my magic easier to control. It feels like I can direct it, instead of it directing me. You make the compound feel like home. And tonight I thought I was going to lose the one person who makes me feel like I could still be good. Like I could still have something real."
Her confession hung between you, heavy and electric. The tension in the air was palpable. All the distance, the silence, the jealousy, it had never been what you assumed. For moment you didn't reply, too stunned speak, and Wanda hung her head ever so slightly, accepting your silence as an answer.Â
"Wanda..." You closed the gap, cupping her face with trembling hands. You let your thumb gently caress her cheek, tilting her chin up so you could see her eyes. "I'm right here. And I've wanted you for so long. I just never knew... I thought you couldn't stand me."
Her control shattered. She kissed you like she was drowning, desperate and claiming, hands sliding under the ruined dress to pull you flush against her. The kiss was messy, wet with tears, teeth clashing and tongues sliding as months of longing poured out. Wandaâs fingers dug into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as she walked you backward toward her bed.
You gasped into her mouth when the backs of your knees hit the mattress. Wanda didnât stop kissing you- deep, filthy, devouring -as she pushed you down gently. Her leg slid between your thighs, pressing firmly against your core through the remnants of your dress and panties. The pressure made you moan, hips rolling instinctively against her.
The kiss only grew more desperate as Wanda ground her thigh against you, the friction sending sparks through your entire body. Your hands fisted in her red hair, tugging just hard enough to make her groan into your mouth.
âYou have no idea what you do to me,â she panted against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip before soothing it with her tongue. Her hands roamed greedily, cupping your breasts through the lace bra, thumbs teasing your nipples until they peaked. She unclasped the bra with one smooth motion and tossed it aside, mouth descending to latch onto one nipple, sucking hard while her hand kneaded the other.
You arched with a broken moan, grinding harder against her thigh. âWanda⊠pleaseâŠâ
She moved lower, kissing down your stomach, nipping at your hips before hooking her fingers into your panties and dragging them down your legs. Her breath ghosted over your core, making you shiver.
Wandaâs hands immediately gripped your thighs, spreading them wide and holding you open. âNo hiding from me, detka,â she whispered, voice low and commanding, laced with dark hunger. âIâve waited too long for this. Youâre going to let me take my time with you.â
She was completely in control. Her eyes glowing faintly scarlet, red hair cascading over her shoulders as she settled between your legs. Every touch, every lingering kiss designed to pull more pleasure from you. She got off on it, you could tell. The way her own breathing hitched whenever you whimpered, the soft, satisfied hums she made against your skin.
Wanda started at your inner thigh, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, licking slow stripes upward only to pull away right before she reached where you needed her most. She repeated the motion on the other thigh, teeth grazing lightly, tongue soothing the faint marks she left. Your hips twitched desperately, but her hands held you firmly in place.
âWanda⊠please,â you begged, voice already wrecked. âI need you.â
âNot yet,â she murmured against your skin, kissing just beside your dripping pussy, so close you could feel the heat of her breath. She licked a long stripe up one thigh again, then the other, deliberately avoiding your center. Her fingers traced feather-light patterns on your hips, your stomach, everywhere except where you were aching for her.
You were trembling, hips rolling uselessly as arousal dripped down your thighs. âPlease, Wanda-I canât- I need your mouth. Iâm so wet for you, pleaseâŠâ
She looked up at you with blown pupils, lips shiny, a wicked little smile playing on her face. âSo pretty when you beg. Look at you⊠dripping for me already and Iâve barely touched you.â
Finally, she dragged her tongue slowly through your folds, a single broad lick from your entrance to your clit. You cried out, back arching sharply. But she didnât stay. She pulled back and kissed your thigh again, licking up the wetness that had spilled there, savoring you.
âWanda- fuck- please donât stop,â you whined, hands fisting the sheets.
She hummed, clearly enjoying how desperate you sounded. Only then did she return, licking slow, lazy circles around your clit but never quite giving direct pressure. She teased her tongue at your entrance, dipping just the tip inside before pulling out again, over and over, driving you higher without letting you tip over.
Your moans turned into broken sobs of pleasure. âPlease, baby, I need more. Iâll be good, just please let me come-â
Wanda finally took mercy, sealing her mouth around your clit and sucking gently while her tongue flicked in perfect rhythm. Two fingers pressed inside you at once, curling deep and stroking that spot that made stars explode behind your eyes. She didnât rush even now, thrusting slowly, deliberately, drawing it out as long as possible while her mouth worked you perfectly.
âYou gonna come for me, darling?â she teased, voice muffled against your pussy, green eyes flicking up to watch your face. âThatâs it, pretty girl. Let me taste how much you need me.â
Her dirty words sent you over the edge. You came hard with a sharp cry of her name, thighs shaking around her head, walls clenching rhythmically around her fingers. Wanda moaned against you, clearly getting off on your pleasure, and worked you through every wave until you were whimpering and oversensitive.
But she wasnât done.
She climbed back up your body, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on her tongue. âSuch a good girl for me,â she praised, voice husky. âBut Iâm nowhere near finished with youâŠâ
Wanda flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up so you were on all fours. She kissed down your spine, nipping at the curve of your ass before spreading you open again. Her tongue returned, slow and teasing, licking from your clit all the way up and circling your entrance.
âLook at this pretty pussy,â she murmured, voice thick with lust. âSo wet and needy for me. Youâre going to give me another one, arenât you, baby?â
Wanda ate you out like she had all night, because she did.
She started with feather-light flicks of her tongue against your swollen clit. Her movements were quick, barely-there touches that made your hips jerk forward desperately. Then she switched to long, slow, flat licks from your entrance all the way up, dragging through your folds and savoring every drop of your arousal like it was the sweetest thing sheâd ever tasted. She hummed in approval against you, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
âFuck, you taste so good,â she groaned, pulling back just enough to kiss the inside of your thigh, licking up the slick that had dripped down your skin. âSo fucking sweet for me.â
She teased her tongue at your entrance again, dipping just the tip inside, shallow and slow, fucking you with only the smallest movements before pulling out completely. You whimpered, pushing back against her face, but she held your hips firmly in place.
âPatience, detka,â she whispered, voice dark and amused. âI want to enjoy every second of this.â
She returned to your clit, licking lazy circles around it, still never giving you the direct pressure you craved. Every time your moans grew louder and your thighs started to shake, sheâd pull away and kiss along your folds or suck gently on your inner lips instead, always keeping you right on the edge without letting you fall just like before.
âMmh, Wands, I'm so close again-â you sobbed, fingers twisting in the sheets. âI need more, I need you," you moaned out, calling for her.
"Yeah? You need me, baby?" She taunted you again, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on her lips. You whimpered and nodded. Wanda flipped onto her back and pulled you on top of her, straddling her thigh. She gripped your hips firmly, guiding you down so your soaked pussy pressed flush against her toned thigh. "Ride me." She ordered, eyes dark with lust. "Use my thigh to get yourself off. I want to feel how desperate you are for me."Â
You obeyed instantly, grinding down against her. The slick, hot friction was perfect, your clit dragging along her skin with every roll of your hips. Wanda's hands stayed on your waist, helped you move faster, harder, while she watched you with hungry eyes.
"Fuck, you feel so fucking good." You whimper into her shoulder.Â
âThatâs it, baby,â she groaned, flexing her thigh beneath you. âLook at you, soaking me like such a needy little thing. So fucking pretty riding my thigh. You gonna come all over me again?â
The praise and the delicious pressure sent you spiraling. You ground down harder, moaning loudly as your second orgasm hit, flooding her thigh with fresh wetness. Wanda moaned with you, clearly getting off on your pleasure, and kept guiding your hips through every wave until you were trembling and breathless.
She climbed back up your body, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on her tongue again. âSuch a good girl for me,â she praised, voice husky. âYou can take more.."
Wanda reached into her nightstand and pulled out a sleek red harness with a thick, realistic silicone cock attached. It was veiny, girthy, and perfectly curved. Your mouth watered instantly. She fastened it around her hips with practiced movements, adjusting the straps so the base pressed firmly against her swollen clit. The sight of her like, this naked, flushed, cock jutting out proudly, made fresh arousal drip down your thighs.
âOn your knees, baby,â she commanded softly, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs spread.
You slid off the mattress immediately, settling between her thighs on the floor. Wanda cupped your cheek tenderly, thumb brushing your lower lip.
âSuck it for me,â she murmured, voice low and dark. âShow me how badly you want me to fuck you with it.â
You leaned in eagerly, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to the tip before swirling your tongue around the head. Wandaâs breath hitched sharply. The harness shifted, pressing the base harder against her clit. You took more into your mouth, sucking slowly, hollowing your cheeks as you bobbed your head.
âFuck⊠just like that,â Wanda groaned, one hand threading gently into your hair. âYou look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, detka. So eager for me.â
You took her deeper, relaxing your throat until your nose brushed the harness. âMmmph..â you moaned around the thick length, looking up at her with watery eyes. Wandaâs hips twitched, grinding the base against her clit.
âGod, yes- take it deeper, baby. Let me feel that pretty throat,â she panted. âYouâre doing so good for me. Such a perfect little cocksucker.â
You hummed loudly in response, the vibration making her moan. âWanna make you feel good,â you gasped when you pulled off for air, strings of saliva connecting your lips to the strap. âWant you to fuck me so bad after this.â
Wandaâs eyes darkened. âKeep talking like that and I wonât last. Suck it again, baby. Make me come so I can ruin that pussy properly.â
You dove back down, sucking harder, faster, one hand stroking the base while the other gently massaged where the harness pressed against her. âPlease come for me,â you begged between bobs, voice hoarse. âI need you to use my mouth and get yourself off.â
Wandaâs thighs trembled around your head. âFuckkk- yes, just like that. Iâm so close, baby. Donât stop- gonna come down your throat-â
She came with a broken cry, hips stuttering as the harness ground hard against her clit. Her whole body shook, thighs clamping around your head as waves of pleasure rolled through her. You kept sucking gently, moaning encouragement until she was whimpering and oversensitive.
Wanda pulled you up into a filthy, desperate kiss. âMy perfect girl,â she whispered against your lips, voice wrecked. âNow get on the bed. Hands and knees. I need to be inside you.â
You scrambled into position, ass up, chest pressed to the mattress. Wanda knelt behind you, running her hands reverently over your ass and spreading you open. She teased the thick head of the strap up and down your soaked folds.
âSo wet for me,â she murmured. âThis pretty pussy is going to take every inch. Tell me how bad you want it.â
âI need it so bad,â you whimpered, pushing back against the tip. âPlease fuck me, Wanda. Iâve been so empty without you.â
She pressed in slowly, just the tip stretching you open. You moaned loudly. âOh God- yesss, more. Fill me up!"
âInch by inch, baby,â Wanda groaned, sinking deeper. âFeel how full Iâm making you? Thatâs my cock stretching this tight little cunt.â
When she bottomed out, hips flush against your ass, the fullness was overwhelming. âFuck, youâre so deep,â you gasped. âIt feels so good. Please, I need you to move. Fuck me.â
Wanda started with long, deep strokes, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. âYou feel incredible,â she panted. âSo hot and tight around me. This pussy was made for my cock.â
âHarder,â you begged, pushing back. âPlease, Wands, I can take it.â
She picked up speed, hips snapping harder. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. âYeah? You want it rough, baby? Want me to fuck you stupid?â
âYess- please- fuck me stupid,â you cried out. âIâm yours. Use me.â
Wanda fucked you harder, pounding into you relentlessly. Her hands groped your ass, feeling you up. âThatâs my good girl. Taking my cock so well. Look at you, pushing back like you canât get enough.â
One hand slid around to rub your clit. âCome for me,â she demanded. âCome on my cock like the needy slut you are for me.â
You came hard for the final time, vision whiting out as pleasure overwhelmed you. Wanda fucked you through it, grinding deep until she came again with a broken moan, hips stuttering against your ass.
She didnât pull out.
Instead, Wanda stayed buried to the hilt inside you, collapsing carefully over your back. Her cock remained deep, stretching you open as she rolled her hips in slow, lazy circles, grinding the base against her own oversensitive clit while keeping you full.
âStay just like this,â she murmured against your ear, voice rough and possessive. âI want to feel you fluttering around me. This pussy is still mine.â
You whimpered at the overstimulation, clenching around the thick strap as aftershocks rolled through you. Wanda groaned low, pressing deeper, savoring the way your walls pulsed.
âThatâs it,â she whispered, kissing the back of your neck. âKeep squeezing my cock. Feel how deep I am? No one else gets to have you like this. Ever.â
She kept the slow, grinding rhythm going for long minutes, hips rolling lazily, cock nestled deep inside you as you both came down. Every small movement sent sparks through your over-sensitive body. Wandaâs hands roamed possessivelyâsqueezing your breasts, pinching your nipples, gripping your hips to hold you exactly where she wanted you.
When she finally pulled out, it was slow and deliberate, drawing a broken moan from you at the emptiness. She tossed the harness aside and pulled you flush against her, one thigh slipping between yours so you were still pressed together, slick and warm.
âMine,â she said simply, voice low and satisfied, lips brushing your shoulder as she held you close.
You shivered in her arms, utterly spent and claimed, a small, wrecked smile on your lips.
note:
You guys voted for smut (which I've never really written), so I thought it would be easier to write something filthy and just go for it lmao
Summary: The journey to the coastal safehouse takes a sweet but unbearable turn for Yelena, who finds herself trapped in a car with Wanda and Y/Nâs relentless, domestic pining.
Words: 9k+
Warnings: Canon-typical violence and blood, Angsty, Heavy pining, domestic fluff.
A/N: Sorry everybody in took me a long time to update this one. Hope youâll all enjoy it.
Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
---
---
Yelena's POV
The road stretched endlessly beneath a bright blue sky, winding through forests that slowly gave way to rolling hills. According to the map on the dashboard, they were only two days away from the old coastal safehouse.
If nothing went wrong.
Which, considering her life, probably meant something would.
Yelena rested one hand lazily on the steering wheel while the radio played quietly in the background. Beside her, Wanda sat unusually peacefully, one elbow resting against the window.
For the fifth time in the last ten minutes...She looked into the backseat.
Y/N was asleep. One arm was tucked behind her head while the other rested across her stomach. Her head leaned against the window, hair falling over her forehead, completely unaware that someone had been staring at her for the past hour.
Wanda smiled. Again.
Yelena watched the reflection in the windshield. There it was. That stupid smile. Then Wanda quietly looked back out the window.
Thirty seconds later...She looked back again. Still asleep. Another tiny smile.
Yelena made a face. She'd enjoyed teasing them before. Back when they were both hopeless idiots dancing around each other.
Now?
Now they were just...Sweet. Unbearably sweet. Every time Y/N reached for something, Wanda handed it to her before she asked. Every time Wanda shifted in her seat, Y/N instinctively adjusted the air conditioning without looking away from the road. Every time one of them laughed...The other looked like they'd personally invented happiness.
It was annoying. Cute, sure. But annoying. Yelena physically shuddered.
"I miss when you were both emotionally constipated."
Wanda looked over. "...What?"
"You heard me."
"I don't even know what that means."
"It means this." Yelena gestured dramatically between Wanda and the sleeping wolf in the back. "All this..." She waved both hands. "The smiling."
Wanda blinked innocently. "What smiling?"
"The smiling you keep doing."
"I haven't smiled."
"You smiled three seconds ago."
"I did not."
"You looked at sleeping beauty back there and smiled like you were in romance movie."
Wanda's ears turned pink. "I wasn'tâ"
"You were."
"I just looked."
"Mhm."
"I did."
"You looked lovingly."
"I did not look lovingly!"
Yelena sighed dramatically. "This is exhausting."
Wanda crossed her arms, trying very hard not to smile again. It lasted exactly twenty seconds. Then she glanced back once more. Y/N had shifted slightly in her sleep, brows furrowing before relaxing again. Wanda's entire expression softened.
Yelena let out the loudest groan she'd made all week. "Oh my god."
"What?"
"You did it again."
"I didn't evenâ"
"You looked at her like she is baby deer."
"I was making sure she was comfortable."
"You are proving my point."
Wanda huffed. "I can't win with you."
"No."
Yelena looked ahead. Then suddenly spotted a weathered sign beside the highway.
DINER â NEXT EXIT
Perfect. She flicked on the turn signal. "We're stopping."
Wanda looked over. "Why?"
"Because if I spend another hour watching you two make heart eyes at each other, I will intentionally crash this car."
"I don'tâ"
"No."
Yelena pulled into the gravel parking lot before Wanda could finish defending herself.
The diner looked like it had been standing there since the seventies. A faded red sign hung crookedly above the entrance, and three pickup trucks were parked outside.
Yelena killed the engine. "Let's go eat."
The sudden silence woke Y/N immediately. Golden eyes snapped open. She looked around once. Twice. Then focused on the front seats. "...Did something happen?"
"No," Yelena answered while already climbing out. "I'm hungry." She slammed the door behind her and marched toward the entrance.
Y/N watched her disappear through the glass doors. "...Is she upset?"
Wanda climbed out of the passenger seat just as Y/N stepped onto the gravel beside her. "I don't know."
Y/N frowned slightly toward the diner. "She sounded grumpy."
"I noticed."
Y/N closed the car door before looking toward Wanda. "...Did I do something?"
"I don't think so."
Before Wanda could say anything else, she found herself gently pulled forward.
Y/N wrapped one arm around her waist, the other sliding carefully around her shoulders.
"Whaâ"
A low, content rumble vibrated through Y/N's chest. The familiar purr.
Wanda laughed softly. "Someone's in a cuddly mood."
Instead of answering, Y/N leaned down and rubbed her nose gently against Wanda's cheek. A slow, affectionate nuzzle. The motion was so natural that it almost made Wanda forget they were standing in the middle of a parking lot.
She smiled helplessly.
"There you are..."
Y/N hummed happily, pulling her a little closer. "You smell nice."
"Thanks."
Another soft nuzzle. Wanda's cheeks warmed immediately. "You've become very affectionate."
Y/N blinked. "...Is that bad?"
"No." Wanda reached up, smoothing a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear. "It's very nice."
Y/N smiled. A real one. Not shy anymore. Not uncertain. Just... happy. She dipped her head again, brushing another tiny nuzzle against Wanda's temple before kissing the side of her forehead.
Wanda melted.
"I think," she murmured against Y/N's shoulder, "Yelena might actually kill us."
Inside the diner, Yelena happened to glance through the front window while waiting for the waitress. She froze. Outside...The giant wolf woman was nuzzling Wanda's face.
Again. And Wanda was smiling like an idiot again.
Yelena slowly closed her eyes. Then opened them. They were still doing it. She looked toward the ceiling. "Natasha," she muttered under her breath. "You owe me."
The elderly waitress approached with a warm smile. "Table for one?"
Yelena sighed. "...Unfortunately, three."
As if summoned by fate itself, the front door opened. Y/N held it open for Wanda. Of course she did. Wanda thanked her with another smile.
Yelena pinched the bridge of her nose. This was going to be the longest two days of her life. She followed the waitress to a booth near the window before sliding into one side with a quiet sigh. Reaching for the menu, she looked up as the waitress smiled.
âCoffee?â
âPlease, three.â
The waitress nodded and disappeared toward the kitchen.
A moment later, Wanda and Y/N joined her. Y/N instinctively waited for Wanda to slide into the booth before taking the seat beside her. Yelena watched the entire thing happen and simply rolled her eyes.
Of course.
The waitress returned with three mugs of coffee, setting them down before leaving them to decide on breakfast. Silence settled over the table as everyone looked over their menus. After a minute, Y/N leaned a little closer to Wanda, angling her menu just enough for Wanda to see.
âThey have blueberry pancakes.â
Wanda glanced to where Y/N was pointing, a small smile spreading across her face. âI see them.â
Y/N nodded once, looking quietly pleased she'd found them.
Across the table, Yelena looked between the two of them before shaking her head with an amused smile. âAnd there goes the lovesick smiles again.â Yelena comments.
Wanda groaned softly. âJust leave us alone Yelena!â
âI wish!â Yelena replied with a small shrug.
The waitress returned a few minutes later with a notepad tucked beneath her arm. âReady to order?â
Wanda nodded. âI'll have the blueberry pancakes with a side of bacon.â
âI'll take the country breakfast,â Y/N said. âAnd... another side of pancakes.â
The waitress smiled as she scribbled everything down before looking at Yelena.
âThe western omelet. Hash browns instead of fries.â
âI'll have that right out.â
She disappeared toward the kitchen, leaving the three of them with the smell of fresh coffee drifting through the diner.
Wanda wrapped both hands around her mug before looking at Yelena. âSo... how much longer?â
Yelena thought for a moment before answering. âIf the roads stay clear...â She took a sip of coffee. âTwo more days.â
Y/N quietly listened while stirring cream into her coffee. âYou think Hydra knows where we're going?â
Yelena shook her head. âNo. But I still don't like staying anywhere too long.â
âWe'll keep moving if we have to.â
Y/N nodded once. âI'll keep watch tonight.â
âYou've kept watch every night,â Wanda reminded her.
âI know.â
âYou need sleep too.â
âI sleep.â
âWolf naps don't count.â
âThey do.â
Yelena smirked into her coffee. âI am staying out of this one.â
A comfortable silence settled over the booth until the waitress returned, balancing three large plates on her arms. âBlueberry pancakes.â She placed Wanda's breakfast in front of her. âWestern omelet.â
Yelena thanked her before reaching for the hot sauce.
âAnd the country breakfast.â The enormous plate landed in front of Y/N, piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, toast, and pancakes.
âI'll be right back with the extra pancakes.â
Y/N nodded politely. âThank you.â
A minute later, the waitress returned with another plate stacked with fluffy pancakes. âThere you go, sweetheart.â
âThank you.â
Yelena looked from the second plate to Y/N. â...You know, I always forget how much you eat.â
Y/N glanced down at the table. ââŠThis isn't that much.â
Wanda laughed softly. âIt really is.â
âIt is?â
âMhm.â
Y/N looked genuinely unconvinced before picking up her fork.
Breakfast began quietly. The only sounds were forks against plates, coffee cups settling back onto saucers, and the low murmur of conversations from the other customers.
Halfway through her pancakes, Wanda noticed Y/N had already finished nearly all of her eggs and bacon. She cut off a small piece of pancake, dipped it into the blueberries and syrup, then held the fork toward Y/N without thinking.
âHere.â
Y/N looked over before immediately leaning in to take the bite.
âMm.â
Wanda smiled. âGood?â
Y/N swallowed. âVery.â
A few minutes later, Wanda did it again, this time with a piece of bacon. Y/N accepted it just as naturally. Yelena watched over the rim of her coffee before quietly shaking her head. âI knew this was going to start.â
Wanda looked over. âWhat?â
Yelena only roll her eyes and say âNothing.â But the smile on her lips betrays her.Â
Wanda roll her eyes back and reach for Y/N plate stealing one of the crispy bacon strips.
Y/N noticed immediately. ââŠYou took my bacon.â
âI did.â
âYou could've asked.â
âI knew you'd say yes.â
Y/N considered that for a moment before nodding. ââŠThat's true.â
She simply took another strip from the untouched side plate she'd ordered.
By the time Yelena had finished her omelet, Y/N had already cleaned her first plate completely. Not a crumb remained.
The waitress happened to walk past just as Y/N pulled the second plate of pancakes closer.
âOh, honey,â she said with an impressed smile. âIâve never seen anybody eat that much!â
Y/N looked up. âI was hungry.â
âI can tell.â
The waitress laughed warmly before continuing on to another table.
Wanda watched with quiet amusement as Y/N finished the second stack of pancakes, then reached for the remaining bacon and eggs she'd ordered on the side.
âYou really were hungry.â
âI slept well.â
âI've noticed.â
Within another few minutes, the second plate was just as clean as the first.
Yelena leaned back in her seat, looking at the two empty plates in front of Y/N. ââŠWhere does it all go?â
Y/N looked down at herself. âI don't know.â
âThe wolf,â Wanda answered with a smile.
Y/N nodded thoughtfully. ââŠProbably.â
Yelena couldn't help smiling. âI should've guessed.â
She picked up her coffee again, watching Wanda absentmindedly brush a smear of syrup from the corner of Y/N's mouth with her thumb before returning to her own breakfast as if she hadn't done anything unusual.
Yelena simply rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.
Still ridiculous.
But... she supposed there were worse things than watching two people who'd finally found a little happiness after everything they'd survived.
---
Soon they were back on the road.
This time, Yelena insisted on driving again.
âI've had enough of being trapped in the backseat watching you two flirt,â she'd declared before tossing Y/N the keys to lock the car instead.
So Y/N sat in the passenger seat while Wanda settled into the back. It wasn't ideal. Every now and then, Y/N glanced into the rearview mirror just to check on Wanda. Every time their eyes met, Wanda smiled, and Y/N couldn't help smiling back before returning her attention to the road ahead.
Yelena noticed every single exchange.
She chose not to comment.
The day passed much like the ones before it. Long highways. Small towns. Forests gave way to open farmland before disappearing behind more stretches of empty road.
Around noon they stopped at another roadside diner for lunch before continuing south. A few hours later, they pulled into a gas station to fill the tank.
While Yelena paid for the fuel, Y/N disappeared into the convenience store. She emerged several minutes later carrying two bags absolutely overflowing with snacks.
Yelena looked at them, then at Y/N. ââŠPlanning for winter?â
Y/N peeked inside one of the bags. âI got hungry.â
âYou haven't stopped eating.â
âThe wolf burns a lot of calories.â
âSo apparently.â
The snacks disappeared surprisingly quickly over the next few hours. By the time dusk settled over the countryside, only a few empty wrappers remained on the floorboard beneath Y/N's seat.
The sun finally disappeared below the horizon just as another faded neon sign came into view.
MOTEL
DINER
VACANCY
Yelena let out a relieved sigh. âFinally.â
She pulled into the parking lot and switched off the engine.
For a few seconds, nobody moved.
Then, almost in unison, all three doors opened.
Yelena climbed out first, stretching both arms over her head until her back cracked. âOh...â She rolled one shoulder. âI think I've been sitting for ten years.â
Behind her, Wanda stepped out more carefully, immediately stretching her legs before letting out a quiet groan. âI never want to see another highway.â
âYou'll see one tomorrow.â
ââŠDon't remind me.â
Y/N rounded the front of the car carrying all three duffel bags over one shoulder as if they weighed nothing.
âYou can give me mine,â Wanda offered.
âI've got it.â
âI know you do.â
Still, Wanda slipped closer anyway, leaning lightly against Y/N's side. Without even looking, Y/N's free arm settled naturally around her waist.
It happened so automatically neither of them seemed aware of it. Yelena noticed. She simply shook her head with a small smile before leading the way toward the diner attached to the motel.
Warm air and the smell of grilled food greeted them the moment they stepped inside. The diner was small but cozy, with only a handful of occupied booths. Country music drifted softly from an old radio somewhere behind the counter while a waitress welcomed them with a tired but friendly smile.
âEvening, folks.â
âEvening,â Yelena answered.
âBooth okay?â
âPerfect.â
She led them toward the back of the diner.
Yelena slid into one side while Wanda and Y/N took the other. Wanda barely made it halfway across the booth before leaning against Y/N again. Y/N shifted closer without interrupting her reading of the menu, one arm remaining loosely around Wanda's waist beneath the table.
Yelena watched them for a second before looking back at her own menu. ââŠRoad trips are exhausting.â
âThey are,â Wanda agreed. âI cannot wait to lie down.â
âYou've been saying that since lunch.â
âBecause I meant it since lunch.â
Wanda laughed softly. âI think we've all reached our limit.â
Y/N nodded. âI could sleep for a day.â
Yelena looked over. âYou? Sleep?â
âI do sleep.â
âBarely.â
The waitress returned with her notepad. âWhat can I get you?â
Yelena ordered first. âThe chicken fried steak.â Wanda chose the grilled chicken with vegetables. Y/N studied the menu another moment. âI'll have the ribeye.â
The waitress nodded. âOkay...â
Y/N glanced down once more. âAnd!âŠanother ribeye.â
The waitress smiled surprised. âComing right up.â
Once she left, the three of them settled into the comfortable silence that only came after spending an entire week together. No one felt the need to fill every quiet moment anymore. Sometimes simply existing together was enough.
Their food arrived surprisingly quickly. The waitress carefully distributed the heavy plates across the table.
âNeed anything else?â
âWe're good,â Wanda said with a smile.
âJust holler.â
The smell of grilled steak immediately filled the booth. Y/N thanked the waitress before cutting into the first ribeye.
For several minutes, the only sounds were cutlery against plates and the quiet conversations drifting from the rest of the diner.
Halfway through her first steak, Y/N suddenly stopped chewing. Her fork froze halfway to the plate.
A second later, the bell above the diner's entrance jingled. Three men walked inside. They looked like ordinary travelers. Work boots. Baseball caps. Dust-covered jackets. One of them laughed at something another had said.
The waitress greeted them with the same warm smile she'd given everyone else.
âEvening, gentlemen.â
âTable for three.â
âRight this way.â
She led them deeper into the diner before seating them in a booth three rows behind Yelena's.
Close. Too close.
Y/N's breathing slowed almost imperceptibly. She inhaled once through her nose.
Then again. The scent hit her all at once.
Gun oil.
Cheap aftershave.
Hydra.
Her muscles locked. Wanda felt it immediately. Y/N didn't look at the men again. Instead, she slowly turned toward Wanda.
Golden eyes met green.
Hydra.
The single thought brushed against Wanda's mind like ice. Wanda's expression didn't change. She simply looked across the table. Yelena was finishing the last of her juice.
Their eyes met.
Wanda gave the smallest nod.
Yelena didn't ask a single question. ââŠGot it.â
She calmly reached into her jacket and pulled out several folded billsâenough to cover dinner and leave a generous tip. She tucked them beneath her empty glass without drawing attention.
None of them looked toward the three men again.
None of them needed to. Because if Y/N recognized that scent...Then they'd already stayed one minute too long.
Yelena didn't rush. That was the first thing Wanda noticed. No sudden movements. No panic. She simply folded her napkin, stood from the booth, and slipped on her jacket. âReady?â
Y/N rose first, her eyes never once drifting toward the three men behind them. Wanda stood beside her.
The waitress happened to pass by just as they reached the register.
âEverything alright?â she asked warmly.
Yelena smiled with practiced ease. âFood was great.â
âI'm glad to hear that.â
She tucked the cash beneath the receipt holder. âKeep the change.â
âThank you, sweetheart. Have a safe night.â
âYou too.â
Nothing looked unusual. Nothing sounded unusual. Three tired travelers paying for dinner before checking into the motel.
Yelena pushed open the diner's door. Cold night air rushed over them. The parking lot stretched beneath buzzing neon lights.
Y/N immediately swept the area with one slow glance. Empty. Too empty.
âCar,â Yelena said quietly.
They didn't run. Running attracted attention. Instead, they walked briskly across the parking lot. Wanda climbed into the backseat, Y/N slid into the passenger seat, and Yelena was already starting the engine.
The SUV roared to life. She shifted into reverse. As they backed out of the parking spaceâThe diner's front door burst open.
The three men stepped outside. One looked directly toward them. Another reached beneath his jacket.
âGo,â Y/N said.
Yelena didn't need to be told twice. The tires squealed across the asphalt as the SUV shot out of the motel parking lot and onto the highway.
For several seconds there was nothing.
Just darkness.
Headlights cutting through the empty road.
Y/N twisted in her seat, checking the passenger mirror. The motel was shrinking behind them. ThenâHeadlights.
Two vehicles exploded out of the motel entrance.
âThey're coming,â Wanda said.
âI know,â Yelena answered calmly, pushing harder on the accelerator.
The engine growled.
Eighty. Ninety. One hundred.
The speedometer climbed relentlessly.
Behind them, the two SUVs matched every increase.
âThey're gaining.â
âI see them.â
Yelena's knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. The road ahead curved sharply through dense forest. She took it without touching the brakes.
The tires screamed.
The SUV leaned dangerously before gripping the pavement again.
Behind them, the first pursuing vehicle drifted wide before recovering.
âThey're trained,â Y/N said quietly.
âI noticed.â
Gunfire shattered the night.
CRACK!
The rear windshield exploded inward. Glass showered across the backseat. Wanda ducked instinctively. Another shot punched through the tailgate.
âThey're shooting!â
âYou think?â Yelena barked.
She swerved violently left. Then right.
Another volley cracked through the darkness.
Bullets skipped across the asphalt. One struck the rear bumper.
The second SUV suddenly pulled into the opposite lane, trying to overtake.
âOh, no you don't.â
Yelena jerked the wheel left, forcing the pursuing vehicle back behind them just before an oncoming truck thundered past.
The truck's horn blared.
The Hydra driver barely avoided a head-on collision.
âNice.â
âThank you.â
More gunfire. A bullet punched through the passenger-side mirror, exploding it into fragments.
Y/N didn't even flinch. âThey're trying to disable us.â
âThey're about to become my problem.â
Yelena took another hard corner before shouting, âSwitch!â
Without hesitation, Y/N unbuckled. Wanda immediately grabbed the steering wheel with her magic from the backseat, keeping the SUV straight just long enough.
Yelena climbed halfway across the center console while Y/N slid behind the wheel in one smooth motion.
The transition took barely three seconds. Y/N caught the wheel.
Yelena was already hanging halfway out the passenger window. Wind whipped violently through her blonde hair as she drew one of her pistols.
âLittle closer!â
Y/N understood immediately. She eased off the accelerator just enough.
The pursuing SUV closed the gap.
Closer.
Closer.
Yelena steadied herself against the roof.
âPerfect.â
BANG!
The first shot shattered the enemy's windshield.
BANG!
The second struck the front tire, exploding it. Rubber shredded across the highway. The SUV jerked violently sideways. Its driver fought for control.
Didn't get it.
The vehicle spun twice before smashing through the guardrail and tumbling down the embankment.
Yelena climbed back inside. âOne down.â
She looked into the side mirror.
ââŠAh.â
âWhat?â
âMore.â
Headlights appeared over the hill behind them.
Not one. Three.
Then another.
âOh, come on.â
Yelena slammed a fresh magazine into her pistol.
âHow many people did you make angry?â
âI don't know,â Wanda answered.
Y/N's jaw tightened. âThey've been waiting.â
The first of the new SUVs closed rapidly.
Then another. Four vehicles now, spread across both lanes.
Yelena cursed under her breath. âThis is getting ridiculous.â
The nearest SUV pulled alongside them.
Its passenger rolled down the window.
Gun raised.
âWanda!â
Scarlet energy erupted from the backseat. The red glow flooded the SUV. The entire vehicle lifted off the road as though grabbed by an invisible giant.
The Hydra agents inside had just enough time to scream. ThenâThe SUV flipped, crashing onto its roof before skidding across the highway in a shower of sparks.
The second vehicle swerved to avoid the wreck.
Wanda caught that one too. With a sharp motion of her hand, it rolled violently into the ditch.
Silence.
For exactly one second.
Yelena stared into the mirror. ââŠYou could've done that earlier.â
âI was trying not to draw attention!â
âLittle late for that!â
Before Wanda could answer, Y/N's instincts screamed.
âLeft!â
A black SUV burst from a side road hidden by the trees.
It had been waiting.
The vehicle accelerated straight toward them.
âNoâ!â
CRASH!
The impact slammed into the driver's side with bone-rattling force.
Metal screamed. Glass exploded. The entire SUV spun violently across the highway.
Rubber screamed against the asphalt.
The driver's side slammed into the guardrail with enough force to fold steel inward. Glass exploded across the cabin as every airbag deployed at once, filling the vehicle with white fabric and the smell of burning propellant.
Wanda's head whipped sideways.
Crack.
Her temple slammed against the edge of the window before she was thrown into the opposite side of the backseat.
White flashed across her vision. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Only the ticking of the ruined engine echoed through the night.
Yelena was the first to react. âThis is not a good way to die. You two okay?â
Wanda pushed herself upright with a groan, one hand immediately flying to the side of her head. Her fingers came away streaked with blood. The world tilted violently before settling again.
â...I'm fine,â she managed, though her voice sounded distant even to herself.
Y/N looked over immediately. âYou're bleeding.â
Wanda blinked several times, trying to clear the ringing from her ears. âJust... hit my head.â She pressed harder against the cut, ignoring the throbbing behind her eyes.
âI'm okay.â
Y/N wasn't convinced. The words had barely left Wanda's mouth when blinding headlights flooded the highway.
One SUV screeched sideways in front of them. Another blocked the road behind, doors bursting open. Hydra agents poured onto the asphalt with military precision, rifles already raised.
âThere!â one shouted. âMove!â
Yelena kicked her door open before the first shot was fired.
Gunfire erupted.
Bullets ripped through the windshield as everyone scattered from the vehicle.
Yelena hit the ground in a combat roll. Her pistol barked twice before she was fully upright. Two Hydra rifles spun from their owners' hands.
She never stopped moving.
A third soldier rounded the hood of the SUV. Yelena met him with the butt of her pistol, smashing it across his nose before driving a knife beneath his arm. The man collapsed.
Another replaced him instantly.
Hydra had learned. They didn't attack one at a time. They moved in coordinated pairs. Suppressing fire. Flanking positions. Communication. But Y/N charged anyway.
A baton crackled with blue electricity as one soldier swung toward her head. She ducked beneath it, seized his forearm, and snapped it across her knee.
The scream barely escaped before another rifle stock crashed into her ribs from behind.
She didn't even turn. Her elbow shot backward into the man's throat. He folded instantly.
Another agent rushed from the left. Y/N caught him by the tactical vest and hurled him straight into the windshield of the lead SUV. Glass burst outward in a glittering explosion.
Across the road, scarlet energy exploded through the darkness.
Wanda caught three rifles at once, wrenching them from Hydra's grip before spinning them into the trees. An agent lunged at her with a combat knife.
She sidestepped. The blade missed by inches.
Her magic wrapped around his ankle, slamming him headfirst into the pavement. Another fired from behind. Before Wanda could turnâYelena shot the rifle from his hands.
âI've got your back!â
âThanks!â
For several brutal minutes, the highway became chaos.
Gunfire.
Magic.
Flying bodies.
Sparks.
Shattered glass.
ThenâSilence.
Eight Hydra agents lay unconscious across the road. Yelena lowered her pistol. â...That felt too easy.â
Almost immediately, engines roared through the darkness. More headlights.
Three.
No...
Four.
Y/N looked up first. âThey're not finished.â
Black SUVs surrounded them. Doors opened and more Hydra soldiers stepped out.
Then two figures emerged from the final vehicle. Neither carried a weapon. Neither looked concerned. Both were enormous. Broad enough to block the open door behind them. Dark tactical armor covered their bodies from neck to boots. Their expressions remained perfectly blank.
Y/N's heartbeat slowed. â...Enhanced.â
One of the men smiled. Not confidently.
Hungrily.
He disappeared. Not literally. Just impossibly fast. One instant he stood thirty feet away. The nextâHis fist crashed into Y/N's guard with enough force to create a shockwave.
The impact blasted her off her feet.
She flew backward through the air, smashing completely across the hood of a wrecked SUV before hitting the pavement hard enough to leave cracks in the asphalt.
She rolled twice, then forced herself upright.
The enhanced soldier hadn't moved. He simply waited.
Y/N wiped blood from the corner of her mouth.
â...Strong.â
âSo are you.â
He smiled again.
Then attacked. The road beneath them exploded as they collided. Every punch sounded like a car crash. Y/N landed three clean strikes to his ribs.
He barely reacted. His knee slammed into her stomach. The air exploded from her lungs. A backhand sent her skidding twenty feet across broken pavement.
She'd never been hit that hard. Not since Hydra.
Across the highway, the second enhanced soldier crashed straight through Wanda's telekinetic barrier. It shattered like glass.
âWhatââ
Wanda instinctively reached out again, scarlet magic flaring around both hands. A sharp spike of pain exploded behind her eyes. Her vision doubled just for an instant the spell faltered.
It was enough.
The enhanced soldier burst through the half-formed barrier before it could solidify. He caught her wrist and twisted.
Pain shot up her arm. Wanda tried to throw him backward, but another wave of dizziness hit her. The ringing in her ears grew louder, making it harder to focus her magic.
Scarlet energy flickered wildly instead of striking cleanly.
His fist crashed into her ribs.
Wanda cried out as she slammed into the side of the ruined SUV, leaving a deep dent in the metal.
âWanda!â
Y/N lunged toward her but the first enhanced intercepted. His shoulder drove into Y/N's chest. She hit the ground. Before she could riseâa boot slammed into her ribs.
The enhanced wasn't trying to beat her. He was keeping her away from Wanda.
Behind them, Yelena fought desperately to keep the remaining Hydra soldiers off both of them, firing, reloading, and switching to knives whenever someone got too close.
âWe're getting circled!â
Wanda staggered upright, one hand braced against the SUV. Blood continued to trickle from the cut on her temple, dripping onto her collar. Every heartbeat made the pounding inside her skull worse. She shook her head once, trying to clear the haze.
It didn't help. The concussion slowed everything. Her thoughts. Her reactions.
Even her magic.
Normally, she would've stopped him before he got within arm's reach. Tonight...She was always a fraction of a second too late.
The enhanced soldier closed the distance again. He caught her by the throat. Lifted her completely off the ground.
Scarlet magic erupted around his arm, but Wanda struggled to maintain her concentration through the dizziness. The energy surged unevenly instead of crushing him outright.
He slammed her into the SUV again. The impact sent another burst of agony through her head.
Stars exploded across her vision. Blood ran freely down the side of her face.
He pulled back his fist. Y/N saw it.
Saw Wanda's unfocused eyes. Saw the blood. Saw her struggle to even keep her magic steady. Saw the fist descending.
Something ancient inside her shattered.
The growl that erupted from her chest didn't sound human. It shook the trees. Hydra agents froze. Even the enhanced soldiers hesitated. Bones cracked. Muscles expanded. Dark fur burst through skin.
Within seconds, a massive wolf stood where Y/N had been. Golden eyes burned with pure fury. The wolf didn't roar. She attacked.
She hit the enhanced soldier like a freight train. Massive jaws crushed his armored shoulder. Steel folded between her teeth.
He screamed.
The wolf flung him nearly forty feet. He crashed through the windshield of his own SUV before the entire vehicle rolled onto its side.
The second enhanced charged. The wolf met him head-on. Claws tore through reinforced armor. He punched her ribs hard enough to splinter nearby asphalt.
She answered by driving him into the highway with both forepaws. The pavement collapsed beneath them. He tried to stand but she didn't let him.
Claws.
Teeth.
Another slam.
Again.
Again.
Again.
She fought like an animal protecting its mate. Not a soldier. Not an Avenger.
A wolf.
Every strike became more vicious than the last.
Nearby, Wanda forced herself onto one knee, clutching her side.
âY...Y/N...â
One Hydra soldier hadn't joined the fight. He'd gone back to the SUV.
Carefully...He unlocked a reinforced case. Inside rested a long silver weapon covered in Hydra markings and glowing blue conduits.
Yelena's stomach dropped. â...Wanda.â
Wanda looked up. The barrel was already charging. âNo...â
The soldier smiled. He wasn't aiming at the wolf. He was aiming behind her.
At Wanda.
The wolf couldn't see him.
âY/N!â Wanda screamed.
The wolf turned, saw the weapon, then Wanda.
There wasn't even a moment's hesitation. She leapt. The blue spear erupted from the launcher.
It struck the wolf square in the chest.
The weapon didn't explode. It punched through. Clean through. The force carried the wolf backward several feet before she hit the ground.
Silence.
The wolf remained standing for one impossible second. Blood poured from both sides of the wound. A broken whine escaped her throat. Then her legs gave out.
As she collapsed, the transformation unraveled.
Fur disappeared. Bones shifted. Claws became trembling fingers.
Y/N lay motionless on the shattered highway. A gaping hole tore through the center of her chest.
âWanda...â Yelena's voice broke.
Wanda didn't answer. She couldn't.
The world had narrowed to one impossible sight.
Y/N.
Still.
Bleeding.
Not breathing.
Something inside Wanda broke beyond repair. Scarlet energy exploded from her body with a force that split the highway apart. The night turned crimson.
Cars lifted into the air. Hydra soldiers screamed as invisible hands seized every one of them simultaneously. The enhanced soldiers fought against it.
It didn't matter.
With a single, grief-filled scream, Wanda unleashed everything. The shockwave tore across the highway. Every Hydra vehicle crumpled like paper.
The launcher was ripped apart atom by atom. The enhanced soldiers were hurled hundreds of feet into the darkness. The remaining agents slammed unconscious into trees, concrete barriers, and overturned wreckage.
When the red light finally faded...Nothing moved. Nothing except Wanda.
She was already on her knees beside Y/N, her hands shaking as they reached for the wound that no healing magic in the world should have been able to fix.
âNoâŠâ Her voice barely existed.
Scarlet energy poured frantically from her palms, wrapping around the gaping wound in Y/N's chest.
âCome onâŠâ
The magic trembled violently.
âCome onâŠâ
It wasn't working.
Blood continued to seep between her glowing fingers, warm against her skin.
âNo, no, noâŠâ
âWanda.â Yelena's voice sounded distant.
Wanda didn't hear her. She pressed both hands harder over the wound as though she could physically hold Y/N together.
âPleaseâŠâ
Her magic searched desperately for something to mend.
Broken ribs.
Torn muscle.
Collapsed lung.
The hole through Y/N's chest.
Every spell unraveled the moment it reached the wound, as though something was consuming the magic itself.
Yelena knelt beside them, breathing heavily from the fight. She glanced over her shoulder, pistol still raised as she scanned the dark highway for movement.
Nothing. Only wrecked vehicles. Unconscious Hydra soldiers. Smoke rising into the night.
She looked back at Wanda.
ââŠWanda.â
Nothing.
âWanda.â
Still nothing.
Yelena reached out, carefully placing a hand on Wanda's shoulder.
The witch flinched violently.
âDon't touch me.â
âWanda.â
âI'm fixing her.â
Her voice cracked.
âI'm fixing her.â
Yelena's heart sank.
Because Wanda wasn't speaking to her anymore. She was pleading with herself. With her magic. With the universe. Anything that might be listening.
Scarlet energy intensified until it illuminated the entire highway. Wanda gritted her teeth.
âYou heal,â she whispered to Y/N, tears falling onto her face. âYou always heal.â
Nothing.
âYou heal.â
Nothing.
âYou promised meâŠâ
Another desperate wave of magic surged into the wound.
It vanished like pouring water into an endless abyss.
Wanda's breathing became ragged. âNoâŠâ
Yelena's expression tightened. Something about the weapon...It wasn't just a projectile. It had done something else.
She stood abruptly. âI'll find it.â
Wanda didn't answer.
Yelena hurried toward the shattered remains of the launcher scattered across the road. Pieces of silver alloy still glowed faintly blue.
Nearby lay the soldier who had fired it. Still alive but barely conscious.
Yelena was beside him in an instant, grabbing him by the front of his tactical vest and dragging him upright.
âWhat was that weapon?â
The man laughed weakly. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. âYou... don't knowâŠâ
Yelena slammed him against the overturned SUV.
âWhat. Was. It.â
He smiled. âA... wolf killer.â
Yelena's blood ran cold.
âIt stopsâŠâ He coughed violently. ââŠregeneration.â
âNo.â
âIt destroysâŠâ Another cough. âThe healing responseâŠâ
Yelena stared at him.
âNoâŠâ
The man laughed again. ââŠBy morningâŠâ
He never finished. His head rolled limply to one side.
Unconscious. Or dead.
Yelena didn't care.
She looked back toward Wanda.
Toward Y/N.
Toward the pool of blood slowly spreading across the broken highway.
âWandaâŠâ
The witch still hadn't moved. Her forehead rested against Y/N's.
âI'm here,â she whispered brokenly. âI'm right here.â
Another pulse of scarlet magic.
Another failure.
âYou don't leave me.â
Silence.
âYou hear me?â
Nothing.
âYou don't get to leave me.â
Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. The blood on Y/N's chest refused to stop flowing.
ThenâAlmost too faint to hear...
A tiny hitch.
Not a breath.
Not quite.
More like...
A weak, wet gasp.
Wanda froze.
Her entire body went still.
ââŠY/N?â
Another tiny sound escaped Y/N's lips. So faint it could have been imagined. But Wanda had heard it. Hope exploded through her chest so violently it almost hurt.
âYelena!â
Yelena spun around immediately.
âWhat?â
âShe's alive.â
Yelena was beside them in seconds. The two women held their breath. Several agonizing moments passed.
Then...
Another shallow, ragged breath.
Painfully weak. Barely enough to move Y/N's chest. But it was there.
Yelena let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
âSheâs fighting.â
Wanda's tears fell freely as she gently cup Y/N's face with one hand while the other still pour her magic into Y/N chest.
âI knowâŠâ she whispered, her voice trembling with relief and terror all at once. âI know, my little wolf. Just keep fighting. I'm not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.â
---
Y/N's POV
Pain.
It was everywhere.
Not sharp. Not dull. Just... everywhere.
Every breath burned. Every heartbeat sent something warm spreading through her chest. She couldn't move. Couldn't open her eyes. Couldn't even tell if she was lying down or standing.
There was only darkness.
And voices.
"...Y/N..."
Wanda.
She knew that voice anywhere.
Soft. Shaking and crying.
Y/N tried to answer but nothing came out.
Her lips refused to move.
"...stay with me..." Another voice.
Further away.
"...we need to move, Wanda." Yelena.
"They'll send more."
"No."
Wanda's answer came immediately.
"I'm not leaving her."
"We're not leaving her."
A pause.
"We're taking her with us."
Y/N wanted to tell Wanda she was okay. Wanted to reassure her. But all she managed was a weak twitch of her fingers. Or maybe she imagined it.
Something warm squeezed her hand. Immediately.
Like Wanda had been holding it the entire time.
"I'm here," Wanda whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm right here."
Y/N tried to smile. She wasn't sure if she did. The darkness swallowed her again.
---
The next thing she knew...
Movement. Everything hurt. Every bump rattled through her body. The steady vibration beneath her told her she was in a vehicle.
The smell of gasoline.
Leather.
Blood.
The SUV.
Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy. She forced them open. Only a sliver. The world was nothing but blurred lights streaking past the window.
"...Slow down!" Wanda shouted.
"I'm trying!" Yelena yelled back.
"They're behind us!"
The SUV suddenly jerked hard around a corner. Y/N's body slid several inches across the backseat despite the hands desperately trying to keep her still. Pain exploded through her chest.
A broken groan escaped her lips.
"...Ngh..."
Her eyes rolled back before she could stop them.
"Shit!"
Wanda caught her immediately.
"What the hell, Yelena?"
"There was a truck!"
"I don't care!"
"I'd rather not die tonight!"
"You almost killed her!"
"I almost killed all of us!"
Y/N barely understood the words. Everything sounded underwater. She felt warm hands press gentlyâbut firmlyâagainst the wound in her chest.
Gentle fingers brushed damp hair away from Y/N's forehead.
"We're almost there." A kiss touched her temple. "Stay with me."
Y/N tried.
God...
She tried.
But the darkness pulled harder. Everything disappeared again.
---
Cold.
That was the first thing she noticed.
Then...
Sheets. A mattress. The faint smell of old wood, medicine and rain.
Y/N groaned quietly.
"...Mm..."
Her eyelids fluttered open. Everything was blurry. The ceiling swayed strangely above her.
Where...
Where was she?
She inhaled instinctively. Trying to find something familiar.
Wanda.
Usually Wanda's scent grounded her immediately. But all she could smell was antiseptic.
Dust.
Old furniture and her own blood.
Confusion settled heavily in her chest. She blinked several times. Nothing came into focus.
"...W..."
Her throat hurt. She slowly turned her head. Just find an empty room and no signs of Wanda.
Her heartbeat spiked instantly.
Panic.
She pushed herself upright. The movement sent unbearable pain through her chest.
"...Ah..."
Her vision blackened around the edges.
No.
No, whereâ
"Wanda..."
Her voice barely came out. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. The second her feet touched the floorâŠthey gave out.
Y/N hit one knee hard against the wooden boards. Pain shot through her body but she didn't care.
"Wanda..."
She forced herself up using the bedside table. The room tilted violently. She stumbled into the wall.
Caught herself and kept moving.
Her hearing rang loudly. Somewhere nearby...
Voices.
Muffled.
Someone was talking. She couldn't make out the words. Only that people were there. She staggered toward the bedroom door, one hand pressed against the wall to keep herself upright.
Every step hurt. Every breath burned.
Her chest felt tightly wrapped beneath thick bandages.
She reached the hallway. The voices became clearer. Still distorted beneath the relentless ringing in her ears.
Another doorway. Light spilled through it. She stumbled toward it.
Almost there...She leaned against the frameâAnd froze.
Wanda.
Standing across the room talking to someone.
Yelena.
There was someone else too but Y/N didn't register who. All she saw was Wanda. Alive.
Before anyone could reactâShe lurched forward. Her legs completely gave out.
"Wanda..."
Wanda turned at the sound just in time to catch her.
Y/N practically collapsed into her arms.
"W-Whoa!"
Wanda wrapped both arms around her immediately before she hit the floor.
"Y/N!"
Y/N buried her face against Wanda's neck.
Frantically.
Desperately.
She inhaled over and over.
Finding her scent. Making sure it was real.
"You..." she whispered hoarsely, panic still evident in every word. "You're okay..."
Her nose brushed frantically along Wanda's neck, her shoulder, her hair.
Checking.
Confirming.
"You weren't..."
Another shaky breath.
"...hurt..."
Wanda's eyes immediately filled with tears.
"Oh, babyâŠâ
Y/N clung tighter despite how badly it hurt.
"I couldn't..." Her breathing hitched. "I couldn't smell you..."
"I know."
"I thought..."
"I know."
Wanda carefully cradled the back of her head, tears already slipping down her cheeks.
"I'm okay."
Y/N pulled back just enough to look at her face.
Still blurry. Still doubled. She reached up with trembling fingers and cupped Wanda's cheek.
"...You're okay?"
"I'm okay."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
Only then did some of the panic leave Y/N's body. Her shoulders sagged. Relief washed through her.
"...Good..."
The single word was barely audible. Then her knees buckled again.
"Y/N!"
She completely went limp in Wanda's arms, unconscious once more before Wanda could finish calling her name.
---
Pain greeted Y/N before consciousness did. Not the unbearable agony from before.
This was different.
A deep, dull ache spread through her chest every time she breathed, as though every muscle had been torn apart and stitched back together.
She frowned.
The light behind her eyelids felt too bright. SlowlyâŠshe opened them. The room blurred for only a second before gradually sharpening into focus.
The ceiling was wooden.
Old beams.
Stone walls.
A fireplace crackled quietly somewhere nearby. Nothing spun this time. She squinted against the sunlight filtering through the curtains.
A gentle hand brushed through her hair.
âEasyâŠâ
Wanda.
Y/N turned her head.
Wanda was sitting in a chair pulled right beside the bed. Dark circles rested beneath her eyes, and her hair was tied back messily. She looked like she hadn't slept properly in days.
Despite thatâŠthe moment their eyes met, Wanda smiled.
A shaky, relieved smile.
âHi.â
Y/N's lips felt dry.
ââŠHi.â
Her voice came out rough, almost unrecognizable.
Wanda immediately reached for the glass on the bedside table.
âEasy.â
She slid one arm carefully behind Y/N's shoulders, helping her sit just enough to drink. The cool water soothed her throat.
Y/N sighed softly.
ââŠBetter?â
She nodded.
Wanda helped her lie back down before brushing another strand of hair from her forehead.
For several moments, neither of them spoke. They simply looked at each other. Making sure the other was really there.
Y/N was the first to break the silence.
ââŠHow long?â
Wanda's smile faltered.
âYou've been asleep...â She swallowed. ââŠThree days.â
Y/N blinked slowly. ThreeâŠdays?
âI thought...â she whispered.
âI know.â
Wanda reached for her hand immediately, lacing their fingers together.
âWe made it.â
âThe safe house?â
Wanda nodded.
âWe were only about forty minutes away.â
âWhat happened?â
For a moment, Wanda didn't answer. Her thumb continued tracing slow circles across the back of Y/N's hand.
âYou passed out again in the SUV. We couldn't stop. They kept sending more patrols, so Yelena drove...â She let out a tired breath. ââŠLike a maniac.â
Despite everything, the corner of Y/N's mouth twitched.
âI believe that.â
âIt wasn't funny.â
âI know.â
âWe got here just before sunrise.â
Y/N listened quietly.
âThe weapon...â Wanda's voice caught. ââŠIt wasn't normal.â She looked down at their joined hands. âIt went straight through your chest.â Her breathing became uneven.
âI tried healing you. I tried everything. Closing the wound. Stopping the bleeding. Repairing the damage.â Her voice broke. ââŠI couldn't.â
Tears welled in her eyes again.
âMy magic just...â She shook her head helplessly. âIt wouldn't work.â
Y/N squeezed her hand as much as her weakened body allowed.
âThe man who fired it,â Wanda continued quietly, âYelena found out it was designed specifically for enhanced people.â
Y/N frowned.
âIt stopped your healing.â
The words hung heavily between them.
âFor almost two days,â Wanda whispered, ânothing happened.â
âI thought...âShe couldn't finish. Her lips trembled. âI thought I'd lost you.â A tear escaped despite her efforts to stop it.
âI kept checking your heartbeat.â
âEvery few minutes.â
âI was terrified it would stop.â
Y/N's heart clenched. âWanda...â
âThe wound finally started closing yesterday.â Wanda laughed softly through her tears. âJust... a little. But it was enough.â
She looked down at Y/N's bandaged chest.
âThen this morning... your healing finally came back. The hole closed. The lung repaired itself. The ribs started knitting back together.â
She smiled through her tears.
âYou're still healingâŠBut you're healing.â
Y/N couldn't stand seeing her like this. She slowly tried to push herself up. But a sharp pain ripped through her chest.
ââŠAh...â
She immediately collapsed back against the pillow with a pained groan.
âHey.â
Wanda was beside her in an instant.
âDon't. You've got a hole that only mostly closed.â
Y/N winced.
âI just...â Another painful breath. ââŠWanted...â
She reached up anyway. Her fingers brushed against Wanda's cheek.
ââŠCome here.â
Wanda didn't hesitate. She leaned forward immediately until their foreheads rested together. Y/N's thumb gently brushed away one of the tears still clinging to Wanda's face.
âI'm sorry...â
âNo.â
Wanda shook her head immediately. âDon't apologize.â
âI scared you.â
âYou almost died.â
âI'm still sorry.â
A watery laugh escaped Wanda.
âYou really are impossible.â
âI know.â
They stayed like that for several quiet moments. Just breathing. Just existing.
Neither wanting to let go.
ThenâA familiar voice spoke from the doorway.
âWell...â
The voice was hoarse. Warm. Carried the unmistakable hint of amusement.
âI leave you two alone for a month... and this is what happens?â
Both of them turned.
Standing in the doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame with her arms loosely crossed, was Natasha.
There were fresh bruises along her jaw. A bandage wrapped around one forearm and she looked tired but she was smiling.
A real smile.
Her green eyes landed on Y/N.
âThey said you'd wake up today.â She pushed herself off the doorframe. âI was starting to think you were trying to sleep through my welcome home.â
Y/N stared at her for a long second.
Then...ââŠNat.â
Natasha's smile softened.
âHey, pup.â
The nickname alone was enough to make Y/N smile weakly.
Natasha let out a quiet breath, some of the tension finally leaving her shoulders.
Y/N looked between Natasha and Wanda. ââŠHow?â
âWe got here first,â Natasha explained, stepping farther into the room. âSteve, Bucky, and I reached this safe house two days before you three did.â
ââŠThen?â
âYelena came crashing through the front door just before sunrise.â A smirk tugged at Natasha's lips. âLiterally.â
Wanda sighed. âShe almost drove through the fence.â
âI was in a hurry,â Yelena called from somewhere down the hallway.
Ignoring her, Natasha continued, âYelena was covered in dirt. You were covered in blood.â Her gaze settled on Y/N. ââŠAnd you looked dead.â
The room fell silent.
âWanda wouldn't let anyone touch you.â
Y/N looked at Wanda, who lowered her eyes to their joined hands. âI thought if I let go...â she whispered, ââŠyou'd stop breathing.â
Y/N gently squeezed her hand.
âWhen none of us went back, after that missionâŠâ Natasha continued, âClint came to me immediately. Didn't tell anyone. Just left. Classic Clint. A few hours later, Sam showed up too, looking for Steve and Bucky. Fury had managed to reach him.â
âFury?â Wanda asked.
Natasha nodded. âHe knew something was wrong inside SHIELD but didn't know who he could trust. His orders were simple: find us, stay off the grid, and don't trust anyone claiming to be SHIELD until he says otherwise.â
ââŠSo officially?â Y/N asked.
âWe're all missing,â Natasha replied. âFury listed every one of us as MIA. That buys him time to figure out who's compromised.â
âAnd while we stay hidden...â Y/N murmured.
âWe figure out what Hydra is really planning,â Natasha finished. âAnd how deep this goes.â
A knock sounded against the already open door.
Yelena leaned against the frame with an apple in one hand. She looked at Y/N, took another bite, and said, âOh. The corpse woke up.â
Natasha rolled her eyes. âThere she is.â
âI was getting bored talking to Sleeping Beauty.â
Y/N huffed a quiet laugh. ââŠHi.â
âHi.â
Yelena wandered over to the bed and, for once, dropped the sarcasm. ââŠThanks.â
Y/N blinked. âWhat for?â
âFor jumping in front of that thing.â Her voice softened. âIt wasn't just Wanda you protected. It would've hit both of us.â
Silence lingered before she shoved her free hand into her pocket. ââŠSo... thanks.â
âI'd do it again,â Y/N said.
âI know.â Yelena sighed. âThat's what worries me.â
Natasha clapped her hands once. âAlright. Mission briefing can wait. You've been unconscious for three days. Your only job right now is recovering. We'll catch you up later.â
Y/N nodded. âOkay.â
Natasha gave her shoulder a careful squeeze. âCome on, Yelena.â
Yelena took another bite of her apple. âDon't do anything dramatic while we're gone.â
Y/N looked genuinely confused. âI'm in bed.â
âExactly.â
The sisters disappeared into the hallway, leaving only the crackling fireplace to fill the silence.
Y/N turned her head. âWanda.â
âHm?â
âCome here.â
Without a word, Wanda kicked off her shoes and carefully climbed onto the bed beside her, taking care not to jostle the bandages around Y/N's chest. The mattress dipped as Y/N slowly lifted an arm despite the pain and wrapped it around Wanda's waist, pulling her close.
Wanda melted against her, resting her head beneath Y/N's chin.
For a long moment, neither spoke. Y/N simply breathed her in.
ââŠDid you sleep?â she finally asked.
âI did.â
Y/N looked down at the dark circles beneath Wanda's eyes, her tangled hair, and wrinkled clothes.
ââŠLiar.â
âI slept.â
âYou closed your eyes,â Y/N murmured. âThat's different.â
Wanda said nothing.
âYou stayed here.â
A small nod.
âThe whole time?â
Another nod.
âYou barely left.â
ââŠOnly when Nat or Yelena made me.â
âWanda...â
âI couldn't.â Her voice cracked. âWhat if you woke up and I wasn't here?â
Y/N's heart ached. She tightened her arm around Wanda despite the sharp protest from her ribs.
âEasy,â Wanda whispered.
Ignoring the pain, Y/N rested her cheek against Wanda's hair. âI'm awake now.â
âI know.â
âSo now...â She kissed the top of Wanda's head. ââŠyou need to sleep.â
âI'll sleep later.â
âNo.â
Wanda looked up to find Y/N watching her with quiet determination.
âYou took care of me. Now let me take care of you.â
Wanda smiled tiredly, cupping her cheek. âI'll let you... after you're recovered.â
Y/N opened her mouth.Â
âNo arguments.â Wanda glare softly.
âI wasn'tââ
âYou were about to.â
ââŠMaybe.â
âI've spent three days making sure you stayed alive. Now you stay in bed until you're healed.â
Y/N sighed dramatically. âI don't like staying in bed.â
âI know.â
âI feel useless.â
âI know.â
âI can walk.â
âYou can barely sit up.â
ââŠThat's temporary.â
âIt is. Until then...â Wanda kissed the tip of her nose. ââŠyou're listening to me.â
ââŠYou're bossy.â
âI learned from Natasha.â
Y/N laughed, immediately wincing as pain flared through her chest.
Wanda rested a hand gently against her side. âSee?â
âI'm fine.â
âMhm.â
âI am.â
âYou just proved my point.â
Y/N sighed and settled deeper into the pillows, still holding Wanda close.
ââŠThen sleep here.â
Wanda blinked. âHere?â
âWith me.â
âYou need space to heal.â
âI need you.â
Silence settled between them as the words lingered in the air. A faint blush colored Wanda's cheeks.
ââŠOkay.â
She carefully lay beside Y/N on top of the blankets, mindful of every bandage. The bed was small, but neither cared. Wanda rested her head lightly against Y/N's shoulder while Y/N held her just tightly enough to keep her close.
âThere.â
âThere,â Y/N echoed.
For the first time in days, Wanda's body finally relaxed. The tension eased from her shoulders, and the fear that had kept her awake every time Y/N's breathing changed slowly melted away.
Y/N buried her face in Wanda's hair. ââŠSleep.â
âI will.â
âYou promise?â
A soft smile spread across Wanda's face.
âI promise.â
Within minutes, her breathing became slow and even. Y/N smiled faintly. It had taken nearly being torn apart for Wanda to finally rest. She pressed one last kiss to the top of Wanda's head before closing her own eyesânot to sleep, but simply to listen to Wanda's heartbeat.
Summary: You grew up in a foster care facility until you were six years old. Happy memories were distant, until a new, green-eyed high school volunteer started one day. You became her precious baby, and she became the first, and last, mother figure in your life. You wish you remembered her name, but you were suddenly placed with a foster family one day without ever getting to say goodbye.
Now, you're a quiet university student. But why does your regular customer, Wanda, make memories of the facility swirl in your head? Why does her touch feel so familiar? And when was she going to tell you she's married?
Word Count: 8.7k
Warnings: 18+, age gap, mommy kink, heavy Freudian themes, pseudo-incest, dom/sub undertones, suggestive, a little emotional regression, angst and fluff, finding comfort in each other in a possibly unhealthy way
A/N: first time writing something like so pls be gentle and read the warnings
â
The memories of the foster care facility had been popping into your mind more often lately. They were usually a mixture of sad or painful events. Prospective parents passing you over for kids who were brighter, more talkative, or openly craving affection. Volunteers assuming you didn't want to be bothered, leaving you to read or draw alone at the table. The facility staff scolding you, frustrated that you didn't try harder to be chosen.
It wasn't that you didn't try on purpose.
You had been there since the day you were born, spending six years inside that building. When you were a newborn, people thought you were too much responsibility. A blank slate where one slip-up could ruin a life. Then you became a toddler, making friends with the other kids. You would play outside, screaming at the top of your lungs and laughing until you couldn't breathe.
But then one day, your best friend left with a foster family. Then another. And another. You were happy for them, but beneath it all, you started to close in on yourself. You grew scared of the pain of opening up to someone who could leave at any moment. So, you started to keep your distance. You talked less, stayed inside, and kept your head down.
But one day, shortly after you turned six, a happy memory formed.
You were drawing at one of the tables by yourself. The sleeves of your oversized t-shirt were folded up, and the hem fell past your shorts. The other kids were talking excitedly with one another, a noise you were used to drowning out.
Suddenly, a hand larger than yours, adorned with rings, appeared next to your crayons.
"Hi," a soft, slightly accented voice said.
You turned your head, meeting wide, green eyes. The corners of them crinkled as she smiled brightly, her face level with yours from where she crouched beside the table. You scanned her face, noticing her dark brown hair before looking down at her name tag. It listed her as a volunteer.
You wish you had committed her name to memory, but assuming she would be like the rest, you hadn't looked closely.
"Hi," you mumbled, wanting to get back to your coloring.
She picked up a blue crayon, twirling it between her fingers. "I'm a new volunteer here. I saw you coloring and wondered if I could join you."
You looked down at your drawing. She would probably get bored and leave to play with the others. The thought made you pout as you stared at the yellow duck you had drawn.
"I guess..." you responded quietly, continuing your coloring to distract yourself.
She giggled softly. Before you could react, she lightly pinched your cheek between her index finger and thumb. You turned to her, her fingers still holding your cheek, and gave her a little glare. She only giggled more.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said, trying to sound apologetic despite her grin. "You just looked too cute."
You looked away, your cheeks heating up. You shook your head, forcing her fingers to fall away. "If you're gonna draw, do it quietly," you said with the biggest sigh your small body could muster.
With one last giggle, she pulled out the small, plastic chair beside you. She settled in, grabbing a sheet of paper from the stack in the center of the table. You could see her glancing at your drawing repeatedly before finally starting her own.
You sat silently, trying to keep your lines smooth even though they always wobbled in the middle. Other kids came up to her, asking her to play and wanting to get to know the new volunteer. Your chest tightened every time, even when you tried not to care.
But she always rejected them kindly, telling them she was in the middle of spending time with you. Your heart warmed just a little, despite your best efforts to act indifferent.
Half an hour into drawing, she started to speak to you. She acted as though you were answering her questions even when you stayed silent, the smile never leaving her voice.
You learned she was a high school senior completing volunteer hours. You found out she had an annoying twin brother who always brought up that he was a few minutes older. She told you about being from Sokovia, how she had only been in the States for a few years, the foods she liked, and the classes that bored her. She talked about her plans for the future, wanting to do something meaningful with her life.
Time passed like thatâher talking about herself while you sat there, pretending not to listen but absorbing it all.
When she stopped talking, you peeked up. She was holding her drawing out to you with a shy grin.
It was a drawing of you. More specifically, of you sitting right in front of her, the little splotches of color from your own paper captured in her sketch. Even though there were other kids behind you, you were the only person in the drawing.
Your eyes widened as you looked between her and the paper. She was about to speak when one of the workers called your name, announcing it was bath time. Disappointment washed over you. Surely she would find someone more interesting after this.
You gathered your drawing, but her warm hand enveloped yours completely, stopping you. Your eyes met her green ones.
"Can we trade?" she asked, smiling softly as she looked down at the paper in your hands.
You weren't attached to your drawing. You had messed up the lines far too many times for it to look like anything, and it wasn't anywhere near what she had made. But you found yourself nodding shyly before you could think twice.
She swapped the papers but kept her hand on top of yours, holding it there for a moment. "See you later, alligator," she said gently. Her eyes didn't waver, and somehow, you believed her.
"See you," you whispered.
Her hand finally released yours. You hopped off the plastic chair and walked across the room toward the worker. You looked back, fully prepared to see her talking to another kid. Instead, you found her watching you leave with delicate affection in her eyes.
She started coming every other day. Sometimes she wore her backpack, arriving straight from school. On colder days, she would stop at the coat rack to hang her jacket. But despite those little differences, her searching for you was a constant. She would locate you with a single glance, walking over quickly with a bright smile that lit up the room.
You always ignored her for the first few minutes while she told you about her day. She would join you in whatever you were doing, even if you were just sitting silently outside, staring at the sky. At first, she sat an arm's length away. But as the months went on, the distance closed. And your heart opened.
You remember the first time you sought her out. It was right after a nap with the other kids your age. Bad dreams had plagued youâmemories of the friends who had left, telling you that you would never be loved. You had gripped the front of your oversized shirt with small hands, your chest aching because you believed them. Tears streamed down your cheeks, even as you tried to swipe them away with the back of your hand.
It was then that she showed up. The door opened just a crack so the hallway light wouldn't flood the dark room. You could recognize her silhouette easily by that point. Shimmying out of your blankets, you quietly stepped over the other kids, your vision blurred with tears.
You remember her surprised face. Her eyes widened when she saw you standing right in front of her, forcing her to look down. Your fingers curled into the denim of her jeans while you sniffled. She crouched down, her eyebrows furrowed with worry as she brushed the tears off your cheeks with her thumbs.
"What's wrong, baby?" she whispered, keeping her voice low so she wouldn't wake anyone.
You shook your head, staring at her with shiny eyes. You let go of her jeans and lifted your arms. She scooped you up immediately, rocking you back and forth. Holding one hand against the back of your head, she pressed your cheek into her shoulder. You breathed in. The comforting scent of sweet flowers, like the ones that grew by the swing set outside, washed over your senses.
More bright memories formed after that, multiplying over the weeks. You started talking a little more, telling her what you planned to draw. You sought her out whenever your shoes were untied. When you watched the sky, you sat in her lap instead of leaving that empty space between you.
In the picture books you read, the mom was always there for her child, whether they were sad or happy. Always wiping away tears after a bad dream. Always listening to them talk, even if it was nonsense about nothing at all.
Just like she did for you.
You remembered when one of the other kids got fostered. Their foster parents had come to pick them up from the facility, and the way the new mother beamed when the child called her "Mommy" always stuck with you.
Wanting to see that same look on her face, you walked up to her the next day just like you had after your nightmare. You tugged on the hem of her shirt to make her look down, tilting your chin to meet her smiling eyes.
"Hi, mommy," you said quietly, your voice shy.
Her eyes widened. Tears immediately began to shine in them before she scooped you up, hugging you tightly. She held you like that for a long time, her breathing shaky against your shoulder. You remember wondering if you had done something wrong. But then she spoke, her voice watery and thick with emotion.
"If only I were older... more stable..." she whispered, her voice shaking. "Then I could take you away from this place."
You hadn't understood why she was crying. She didn't have to take you away from there. You were happy as long as she came to visit. You thought it would last forever.
After that day, you became her precious baby. She would call you that every time she greeted you. She started staying past her volunteer hours, right up until the moment you had to go to sleep. The farewell was always the same.
"See you later, alligator."
"Bye-bye, mommy."
She would smile brightly whenever you called her that, as if you had given her the greatest gift in the world. Holding hands while walking, sitting in her lap while she read to you, her pushing you on the swings. They were pure, happy memories.
But the sunny days ended abruptly.
A couple who had visited you a few weeks prior appeared out of nowhere one afternoon. You had assumed they would choose someone else, since they had stopped talking to you weeks ago. Instead, they walked up to you with small smiles that didn't reach their eyes and told you that you were leaving with them.
She wasn't there that day. You never got to say goodbye. All you had from her was the drawings she'd trade with you that you begged to take with you.
You were in another state by the next day. In a spacious new apartment, a new room, a new school. You tried to be grateful for it all, but your foster parents weren't parents. You would try to get their attention, showing them your grades or asking for help, but their polite, distant smiles made you realize something quickly. The love you had read about in picture books wouldn't be found here.
It was more of an arrangement of convenience. They received money from the state for fostering you, and they got to look like a complete family from the outside. Even after they adopted you once the six month period passed, inside the home, you were just a guest.
That's how you lived for the next twelve years until you became an adult. And for the two years after that, you were on your own, refusing to accept their charity anymore.
Frankly, it wasn't something you chose to reminisce on. The ache in your chest from remembering her, from never being able to see her again, would always feel too painful.
But it's the green eyes in front of you that had been awakening these memories lately.
"Hi, honey, not too busy today?" Wanda asks, pulling an array of fruits and vegetables from her reusable bag and placing them onto the conveyor belt.
You pick up a package of cherry tomatoes, scan it, and set it to the side. "No, not today. It's been pretty quiet," you respond, continuing to scan the rest of the items.
You make a conscious effort to keep your head down, not wanting her to see the excitement on your face from her arrival.
You met Wanda a few weeks ago when you first started this job as a checkout clerk. It fits into your university class schedule well and pays decently because of the nicer neighborhood it's located in.
Your first day had been horrendous. In the last few minutes of your shift, a customer began complaining about their total, claiming they had a coupon that should reduce the price significantly. You tried scanning the coupon they held out, but it came back invalid every single time. Even when you tried to explain the situation calmly, they began to raise their voice until everyone in the front of the store was looking your way.
Situations like these have never been easy for you. You hated being the center of attention. You hoped they would just get it out of their system, pay, and leave so you could go home, but they wouldn't budge.
It wasn't until a voice came from behind them that the situation resolved itself.
"If you can't afford it, then just say so and move on so the rest of us can have our turn."
You craned your head back, meeting a pair of green eyes that you could swear you've seen before. It reminded you instantly of the volunteer who doted on you when you were still at the facility. But this woman had reddish-orange hair and no accent in her voice.
The customer's face turned beet red. They finally tapped their card against the reader, grabbed their bags, and walked away muttering under their breath.
The woman stared the customer down all the way until they exited the sliding glass doors. The moment she looked back at you, her expression instantly softened into something bright.
"I'm sorry you have to deal with customers like that, sweetheart. I don't think I've seen you here before. I'm Wanda. What's your name?"
There was something about the cadence of her voice that made your heart beat faster. The array of crayons on the small table back at the facility immediately came to mind. You quickly shook the thought off when she gazed at you expectantly.
You introduced yourself shyly, admitting it was your first day.
It took off from there.
Wanda visited a few times a week on random days, except for Fridays, which were a constant. You'd share short conversations with her. She'd stay longer sometimes on days where there was no line, chatting about her own time in university and letting you vent about stuck-up professors
Thankfully, today is Friday.
Unfortunately, you're exhausted from classes and your roommates being loud in the living room. It was taking everything in you to not close your eyes. The sunlight glinting off the cars in the parking lot were simultaneously blinding you and keeping you awake, but it was getting harder to keep your shoulders upright.
You take a breath, forcing a smile onto your face when you notice Wanda helping pack her groceries. You've reminded her over and over that this is part of what you're paid to do, but she never listens.
"They might replace you with me at this rate," you say jokingly, the tiredness dulling the inflections in your voice.
Wanda looks up from one of the bags, raising a brow. "Then would you be the customer?"
You huff out a little laugh. "This grocery store is a bit out of my price range."
"Then that arrangement won't do," she responds with a small smile, looking back down. "How else would I see you and that shy smile?"
Your gaze drops down to the scanner, heat rising up your neck to your cheeks and ears.
"See?" Wanda points out, laughing brightly.
Suddenly, her voice drops into something quieter. "Are you sleeping enough, darling?" she asks, gathering her bags nonchalantly. You see her peering at you when she thinks you don't notice.
Don't bother her with your problems, the rational part of you reminds you. It was one thing to complain about professors. It was a whole other thing to tell her about your living situation.
"I slept enough," you respond, meeting her gaze with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes.
She stares at you, scanning your face carefully before giving you a quick smile, like she's thought of something satisfactory.
"Do you get off soon?" she asks, glancing at the watch resting on her left wrist.
You glance at the register screen, finding that you're almost at the finish line.
"I only have around ten more minutes." You breathe out a sigh of relief.
She looks to the side for a moment, nervously biting her lower lip.
You can't help but find her beautiful with the way the sunlight shining in splays perfectly across her face. She's wearing a plain blue blouse and white trousers. No logos. No heavy gold rings or designer bags like the women who usually patronize this neighborhood. Just a silver watch on her left wrist. That modesty was one of the things that had made it easier for you to talk to her.
"I know your parents probably told you not to follow strangers. But hopefully, I'm not a stranger at this point," she starts, speaking quickly. "Would you like to take a walk with me after this at the park across the street? I saw there were a few food trucks, so maybe we could grab an early dinner?"
Frankly, your parents hadn't told you much of anything. You had figured out how to navigate the world on your own. But Wanda isn't a stranger, and the park across the street is always crowded. You wouldn't be in any danger. Perhaps it was naive of you, but with Wanda, you never felt afraid. Just her presence made you feel safe.
The prospect of spending more than a few minutes with her makes something in your chest flutter. It's a feeling you haven't felt since you were six years old.
"O-okay," you stutter, mentally cursing yourself for the slip.
Wanda beams at you, adjusting the bags of groceries hanging on her wrists. "I'll be waiting outside for you, honey. Take your time coming out," she calls out, already turning around and walking out the door.
You watch her walk away before finally turning back to the register. You stare down at the scanner in front of you. Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth, but it doesn't stop the smile forming on your lips.
The sound of footsteps approaching cuts the moment short. You quickly smooth down the front of your apron, erasing the smile from your face before looking up to meet the next customer a few paces away.
"Next," you call out politely.
â
You step out into the parking lot, squinting against the blinding rays. Lifting your arms, you stretch your tight shoulders and release a yawn. Your t-shirt rides up with the motion, the hem resting just above your belly button before you finally let your arms drop.
Looking around, you find Wanda leaning against her car a few paces away. She's already staring in your direction, but her gaze is low. It takes a few steps in her direction before she finally glances up, her eyes widening slightly before she quickly slaps a smile onto her face.
"Ready to go, darling?" she asks, her voice a bit breathless.
You adjust your bag hanging on your shoulder before responding. "All set."
It's a quiet, comfortable walk across the street. You and Wanda stroll between the food trucks, pointing out options before ultimately deciding on sandwiches. Wanda pays for the food before you even have a chance to unzip your wallet.
"I-I could've paid for my own food," you mumble, a stubborn pout forming on your lips.
You both take a seat on an open bench facing the pond. Wanda turns her torso toward you, her expression softening into something you can't quite name. There's a distant sadness in her eyes that doesn't match the small smile on her face.
Before you can think to look away, she reaches out and pinches your cheek gently between her index finger and thumb.
"Let's just say I wanted to treat you. I'm the one who invited you out, after all," she says gently.
Her hand falls away, but her fingers linger close for a moment. Her gaze remains locked on your face, watching you quietly, as if she's studying you.
You stare back at her, your eyes wide. The familiarity of the gesture has your mind racing, your thoughts rushing straight to the one person you could never forget. You never allowed anyone to touch your face like this. Even when friends tried to do it jokingly, you always flinched away. It felt like if you allowed anyone else to repeat the gesture, you would start forgetting her. The memory of the first person who loved you.
Wanda isn't her, you chastise yourself internally.
Your heart twists sharply in your chest. A wave of guilt washes over you, eating away at your stomach just for letting Wanda cross that line without a fight.
But for some reason, it didn't feel uncomfortable. Usually, when others even reached for your face, you felt a wave of unease. If anything, Wanda's touch felt like coming home. The realization makes your heart acheâyou don't want the volunteer to fade from your memory.
You look down at the bench, focusing on the arm's length of distance separating you two. The sandwiches she bought sit untouched between you. For a few long moments, the chatter of people walking by the pond fades into background noise as your thoughts consume you.
It isn't until Wanda speaks that you finally snap out of it.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, darling," she starts quietly. Her expression looks distant, as if she's watching old memories float past.
You open your mouth to tell her the truth, that it didn't make you uncomfortable at all, but she continues, forcing your jaw to snap shut so you can hear her clearly.
"There's someone I've been missing for a very long time. Your smile and that cute pout... they remind me of her so much," she whispers, meeting your eyes with a sad smile. "She would be your age by now. Sometimes I wonder what she's doing. If she's eating okay, if she's receiving the love she deserves... if she still remembers me. But I always hope she's happy, even if that happiness didn't come from me."
The ache in Wanda's voice is almost palpable. It makes your chest tighten in the same way it does whenever you let yourself look back at the past.
Wanda's expression suddenly morphs into a grimace. "Maybe this is just me easing my own guilt. I'm sorry if this is bothersome, sweetheart. It must be weird, being compared to someone you've never met. But talking to you recently... it's been making me think of her more."
Her eyes widen suddenly, her posture stiffening as her voice turns frantic.
"That's not why I've been talking to you, though!" she exclaims, her voice rising enough to draw a glance from a passing couple. "I love our conversations. Genuinely. Seeing you so tired today just made me want to do something to help, even if it wasn't much."
You look out at the pond, watching the light breeze track ripples across the surface.
So she's missing someone too, you think.
The realization eases the guilt churning in your stomach. The puzzle pieces fit together now. The comfort and protection you only ever found from one personâthe most important person in your lifeâhad suddenly reappeared in a matter of weeks through Wanda. It makes sense now.
Wanda reminds you of her.
Secretly, you've known this all along. Probably from the very moment you locked eyes with her at the register.
You're not replacing her. The thought immediately making your frantic mind rest. She'll always be your mommy.
You and Wanda are just finding comfort in each other.
"Can we keep meeting like this?" you ask shyly, turning your head toward her. You let your eyes drift up to the sky. "There's someone I've been missing too. When I talk to you, I feel like I remember her more clearly."
You let your gaze drop back to Wanda's face. She's staring at you, her green eyes bright, as if she's looking right at a memory.
"Of course," she breathes.
You shift on the bench, scooting a little bit closer to her. It reminds you of when you were youngerâthe distance closing slowly, piece by piece.
â
You step into your shared apartment, barely sparing a glance at the kitchen counter littered with dirty plates and utensils. You make your way down the hall, feeling the heavy bass of music vibrating from beneath one of your roommates' doors.
Closing your bedroom door, you lean your back against it and finally breathe out. You let your bag drop to the floor, the heavy thud of it barely audible over the noise outside.
Reaching up, you let your fingertips brush slowly across your cheekbone. You can still feel the lingering warmth from where Wandaâs hand had cupped your face before you parted ways. Her eyes had locked onto yours for a long second before she finally turned around.
You can't help but wonder who it is that she's missing so desperately. But you didn't want to ask. You know that if she threw the question back at you, you would have a hard time answering.
How do you explain to a woman you just met recently that you miss a teenage volunteer from fourteen years ago? How do you explain that you still can't forget her? It would be like admitting to Wanda that she reminds you of the only person you ever viewed as a mother.
You walk across the small, cold space of your room and pull open the bottom drawer of your desk. Reaching inside, you run your fingertips across the rough, waxy lines of the papers hidden at the bottom.
All of her drawings are stored here. Some are messy pieces you had colored together. Most are the clean, detailed sketches drawn just by her.
You miss her so much it aches. The parallels between her and Wanda are almost eerie, pulling your heart in entirely different directions.
But it's exactly that conflict that makes you want to see Wanda again. You want to feel that safety you haven't felt since you were six years old.
You pick up the very first drawing she ever gave you. The sketch of you sitting and drawing at the table.
"Is this okay, mommy?" you whisper into the quiet room, the memory of her smiling green eyes flashing behind your eyelids. Wanda's face appears for a split second before fading away.
â
You start meeting with Wanda every Friday after your shift. She's always waiting for you, leaning against her car, her smile dazzling the moment she notices you.
The second time you meet, she takes you to a cute bakery down the street. You've noticed the inviting exterior before, but knowing the area, you knew it would be far out of your budget. Wanda doesn't let you pay, even when you try handing the barista your card. She just glances at you, raising a single brow. Your arm automatically lowers, and Wanda pays anyway.
It reminds you instantly of the look She would give you when you tried to avoid bedtime at the facility, just wanting to spend more time with her. You would automatically listen back then, wanting to be her obedient baby.
With Wanda, you get to experience many of the things you never could in the city. A flaky, buttery croissant at the bakery. A French restaurant you always wanted to try but could never get a reservation for even if you could afford it. Even just sitting peacefully on the park bench. You're always in a rush, jumping from classes to work, then back home to study. This is the first time you've truly gotten to take in the city you've lived in for fourteen years.
You and Wanda always end up at the park, no matter where you go first. You sit on the same bench in front of the pond. It's where you have the deep conversations that aren't just about university or daily life. It's there that you find out Wanda is the chairwoman for a massive charityâone even you've heard of. She tells you it was something she always wanted to do. To do something meaningful with her life.
The phrasing is so familiar. You remember Her saying the exact same thing. It makes you look at Wanda differently. The passing interest you had because of her looks and her similarities to the person you miss, growing into something much greater with every meeting.
It's your third meeting when you learn more about the person she's missing. You make a passing comment without really thinking. It's only then that you realize how much more willing you're to speak lately, usually being so reserved.
"When I was a kid, I used to think all ducks were yellow," you recount, your voice airy from reminiscing. "Then I found out only the ducklings are."
You let out a little giggle. Staring at the ducks slowly crossing the pond with little ducklings following behind, you think of the yellow duck drawing you made the day you first traded drawings. Your feet swing back and forth beneath the bench, your fingers curled tightly over the front edge of the wood.
It's a few moments before the heavy silence really hits you. You turn your head to look at Wanda. She's staring straight ahead at the pond. You track her eyes, finding that she's fixed on the tiny ducklings trailing behind the mother duck.
Her voice is shaky when she finally speaks.
"My precious baby thought the same thing," she says, a watery smile stretching across her face.
Precious baby.
You close your eyes, biting the inside of your mouth to stop the emotions threatening to surface. You haven't heard that phrase in fourteen years. Her smiling face immediately comes to mindâthe way she would look down at you, crouching to be at eye level before gently stroking your cheek.
"My precious baby."
You always loved it when she called you that. Your lips would immediately curve into a wide grin before you called her your mommy.
Remembering it makes your heart ache for Wanda. From what she's told you, it seems she had to let go of someone she loved, just like you did.
You scooch a bit closer to Wanda, though a sliver of distance still remains between you. As you move, the scent of sweet flowers suddenly washes over your senses.
The swing set. Your cheek pressed against her shoulder.
Your head snaps up, looking for the source, but the tree branches above you just sway gently. It must be the breeze, you think wryly.
But it's that familiar, comforting scent that gives you the confidence.
You reach out, your fingers gently tugging on the hem of Wanda's blouse.
She turns to you. Her green eyes are wide, glimmering with unshed tears, and her mouth is slightly agape. She looks at you as if she's staring straight at a ghost from her past. You figure she must be reminiscing just like you are.
"I'm sure she's out there thriving," you say, your voice adamant despite the slight tremble of your shyness.
Wanda holds her gaze on you, not saying a word. You peer up at the sky, anxiousness setting in the longer she stays silent. Maybe you shouldn't have said anything.
It's only when you feel Wanda's warm palm settle against your cheek that you meet her eyes again. Her expression is soft, her lips curved into a gentle smile. But it's the delicate affection in her green eyes that makes your heart jump. It's how you know she's only looking at you, completely tuning out the crowds of people sitting on the grass and walking by the pond.
Her thumb brushes your cheekbone before tracing lower, brushing slowly against your bottom lip instead.
You feel her movement freeze suddenly. The affection in her eyes remains, but you can see a layer of guilt churning just beneath the surface. She pulls her thumb away from your lip but keeps her palm resting against your cheek.
"I'm sure she is," Wanda whispers. Her voice sounds hopeful, but it's swirling with an array of heavy emotions you can't decipher.
â
With every meeting, you and Wanda only become closer.
Sometimes youâd catch her staring at you in your peripheral vision whenever you looked up at the sky. Watching the clouds drift by and finding shapes in them had become a habit again, just like when you were younger. On clear days, letting the blue expanse amaze you cleared your mind.
You figure that maybe the person Wanda misses used to do the same. The first time you noticed her doing that, youâd honestly felt a bit uncomfortable, but a mixture of guilt lay within that as well.
Because you weren't the person she was thinking of. Maybe seeing you was hurting her more.
It wasn't like you couldn't relate.
After the day Wanda had brushed your lip with her thumb, her touches became more constant. Sometimes sheâd rub away the crumbs at the corner of your mouth after you ate a pastry. Sometimes sheâd run her fingers through your hair and carefully move stray strands out of your face. Sometimes, when you were sharing a funny customer interaction, her hand would land on your thigh, squeezing it gently as she laughed.
Shame would creep up your neck when your body reacted. Youâd press your thighs together, trying to ignore the ache settling in your lower stomach. Your chest warmed from the familiar, comforting touch that you'd only experienced from Her, but now you were feeling the exact same way from Wanda.
Some days, you felt like you were betraying the person you had been forced to leave behind. Even after you were fostered, you had never found that same love. It was a rare, safe feeling that you had reserved just for Her.
But here you were, opening your heart up in the exact same way to someone else.
It was a constant push and pull. You keep reminding yourself that Wanda is a completely different person. They just happen to be similar. You weren't replacing Her. You refuse to.
And it wasn't like you could just walk away from Wanda now. Even in the short period of time you've known her, you've become deeply attached. You sought Wanda out whenever you needed advice, had questions about your university classes, or really just wanted to talk about anything at all. She listened every single time, even when the things you said didn't make much sense or lead anywhere.
Wanda's touch was always kind, but slowly, it began to cross the blurry boundaries between you two. Her hand began to linger higher up your thigh, holding it there and squeezing occasionally. You remembered the intense heat burning through your skin the first time she did it. But whenever you looked up at her, her green eyes were always full of that same gentle, consuming affection.
Sometimes when she looked into your eyes in these moments, her gaze would immediately avert, her lips curving downward like she was upset with herself. She'd blink a few times, her eyes brightening more with every blink before she'd look at you again and let her fingers curve around your thigh confidently.
You know this desire you feel for Wanda is twisted. Wanda reminded you of the only mother figure you had in your life. But, you like Wanda, and being around her feels like you're creating memories that you should've had with Her.
â
It's a month and a half later when you first slip up and tell Wanda a little bit about Her.
You're sitting on the park bench like usual, your arm pressed against Wanda's. You and Wanda had started a book series together. Wanda had the second volume in her hand, reading aloud to you. Your head slowly drifted to the side until it landed on Wanda's shoulder.
You noticed you'd been doing this more often, subconsciously, finding comfort in Wanda whether it be emotionally or physically.
You could hear the smile in her voice as she continued reading. Birds chirped in the distance. Children giggled behind you. But Wanda's voice drowned them all out. It reminded you of sitting outside with Her in front of the swing sets, sitting in her lap as she read one of your picture books to you while pointing at the pictures she liked. You found yourself speaking before you could even think to stop.
"This reminds me of when I was a kid," you murmur wistfully, closing your eyes.
"Did someone else use to read for you?" Wanda asks, her voice unusually tight.
You nod softly, your cheek swishing against her shoulder. "Mhm," you confirm, your voice relaxed. "My moâ"
Your eyes widen. Your posture straightens out. Gnawing lightly on your bottom lip, you look away. You've never talked about Her with anyone before. It felt sacred, like something that was just for you. Your hand tightens around the front of your shirt.
It's confusing. All these habits you used to have starting to come back since you met Wanda.
Wandaâs hand envelops yours, her touch gentle but firm as she coaxes your fingers to release the fabric of your shirt. Sliding her palm against yours, she interlocks your fingers together. She rubs her thumb in slow circles against the back of your hand.
"It's okay if you don't want to talk about the person you miss," she starts slowly. "But if you do... I'm always here, darling." You turn your head automatically, wanting to see Wanda's face that always manages to comfort you.
You don't know how she knew who you were talking about. It feels like Wanda is able to read you with a single glance. It makes you a bit anxious if she can see the feelings you have for her that are muddied by your past.
You meet Wanda's eyes. She's looking at you with an aching softness that you can feel in your bones. Your shoulders droop, melting at the comforting warmth coming from her hand.
Tears glisten in your eyes despite yourself.
It's confusing.
The complicated, messy feelings swirling inside you. There's the intense comfort you're receiving from Wanda, slammed right against the terrifying feeling that you're somehow betraying Her.
But you find your fingers tightening, squeezing Wanda's hand anyway. The motion reminds you instantly of when you used to swing Her hand back and forth while walking around the playground. You tilt your chin up, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill over your lashes.
You hear Wanda inhale shakily. Maybe this is too troublesome for her, you think, trying even harder to rein in your rogue emotions.
Suddenly, Wanda pulls you in closer by your interlocked hands. Her free hand rises to rest firmly against your cheek, her fingers spanning your jaw as she tilts your face up to force you to look at her.
"It's okay to cry," she whispers, her tone incredibly low and soothing. "My baby."
Your eyes widen, a wave of panic hitting you. You know Wanda is probably just seeing someone else in you. You know you shouldn't be letting her call you that. Only one person was ever allowed to use that title.
But you don't stop her.
Instead, a consuming warmth blooms from your chest and outwards. You squeeze her hand tighter. Her thumb brushes slowly against your lips as she gazes down at your mouth. You expect her to freeze like she usually does after a few moments. For the guilt to make her pull away.
But this time, she just continues.
â
Every time you come back to your apartment after meeting Wanda, you always go straight to your desk. You pull out the bottom drawer, running your fingers along the rough, waxy lines of the crayon sketches.
The guilt is starting to ease the longer you meet with her.
This isn't you replacing her, you remind yourself, staring down at the stack of drawings. You're finding something else in Wanda.
You try to ignore the nagging question in your headâthe one threatening to shatter the fragile resolution you've finally found.
But what is it that you're finding in Wanda, then?
â
You're sitting on the park bench with Wanda. Your legs are stretched across her lap, your hand locked firmly in hers. Her other hand rests on your knee, her fingers pressed against the bare skin of your inner thigh.
She's telling you about her day while you listen silently, absorbing every word. Your gaze tracks the ducklings as they follow the mother duck across the surface of the pond. Something about the scene makes you speak up suddenly, cutting Wanda off right in the middle of her sentence.
"âand then he told the staff that he knew me, and that I wouldâ"
"Wanda," you interject.
Her eyes widen, her mouth parting slightly as she turns to look at you. You're normally polite, always staying quiet and listening intently until she finishes her thoughts.
"Yes, baby?" she responds, her voice soft but clearly confused by the interruption.
You turn your head toward her. Your heart hammers against your ribs, the sudden rush of adrenaline making your throat tight as the question finally slips past your lips.
"What are we doing?"
She tilts her head, her expression full of feigned confusion, but her eyes tell you everything. She knows exactly what you're referring to.
"We're spending time together," she says with a light chuckle. She brings your joined hands up to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss against the back of your hand.
"I⊠I know that," you start, your confidence beginning to wane. "I just mean..."
You trail off. You can't bring yourself to say it out loud. You can't ask if she's projecting, or tell her that she somehow makes you feel the exact same safety your mommy did while you also crave a romantic connection. Instead, you just freeze under her gaze, your lower lip trembling slightly.
Wanda leans in closer to you. Her hand slides higher up your thigh until her index finger rests right in the deep crevice where your leg meets your hip. Your breath hitches when she taps her finger in slow, rhythmic beats against the sensitive skin there.
"I know I shouldn't feel this way," she starts. Her face showing the conflicting, messy emotions that are churning inside you. "Not when you remind me..."
She trails off, refusing to finish the sentence. Her lips curve into a soft, vulnerable smile.
"But being with you brings me so much joy," she whispers, her thumb grazing your hip. "I love when you get crumbs all over your lips and I have to brush them away for you. I love when your feet swing under the bench when you're happy. I love hearing your little ramblings. Can that just be enough for now?"
She looks at you, her green eyes wide, desperate, and hopeful.
"Being with you makes me happy too," you admit in a whisper.
Wanda beams at you, the warmth of her hand making your own lips curve upward as well.
Suddenly, a sharp vibration buzzes against your side. You pull out your phone, finding a new text message from your parents. They've been reaching out more often lately. Something about wanting to make up for the time they should've spent being real parents to you.
Are you okay for rent this month? We can send money if you need. Let's meet sometime to catch up over a meal.
You release a tired sigh as you read the text from your adoptive dad.
"Everything okay?" Wanda asks, her voice tinged with worry.
You lock your phone screen without responding to him, looking up with a small smile that falls flat. "Everything's okay," you respond, trying to keep your tone bright. "It's just my parents."
Wanda's hand tightens around your upper thigh suddenly, making you jolt slightly on the bench.
"Did they need something?" Wanda asks.
Her voice is colder than you've ever heard it. The gentle, soft lines of her face are completely gone, her lips pulled into a rigid line.
"Yeah..." you start slowly, still in shock from the sudden shift. "They were just checking to see if I have enough for rent. And... if I want to meet up for a meal."
Her fingers tighten even more against your skin, making a sudden swarm of butterflies erupt in your lower stomach. You try to look away, but Wanda releases your joined hands, bringing her palm up to scoop your jaw and tilt your chin back up.
Her eyes are incredibly dark as she stares down at you. You know you should probably feel afraid of the intensity radiating off her, but instead, the butterflies morph into a low, throbbing ache that makes you shift slightly.
"If you don't have enough for rent, then I can take care of it," she says. Her gaze never wavers, making you realize she's dead serious.
You release a shaky laugh. "I'm okay for rent, Wanda. I promise."
"Then are you meeting them for a meal?" she asks quickly, her tone demanding as she watches your eyes intently.
You shake your head as much as you can while she holds your face in her palm. "No. There's no need to," you start, a wry smile pulling at your lips before you grin up at her. "I'd rather eat with you."
You wonder if she knows just how true that is.
Her tight grip finally releases on your face and your thigh. She uses her thumb to softly stroke the skin of your chin where she had held a little too hard. Before you can even blink, she leans down, pressing a lingering kiss against your chin before pulling back with a thoroughly satisfied smile.
"I'll have to take you somewhere nice then," she says simply, the warmth returning to her voice.
She pinches your cheek lightly between her index finger and thumb. Your eyes close automatically, your head leaning heavily into her hand at the familiar gesture.
You both sit there like that for a long while. Her hand remains resting on your thigh, while her other hand releases the soft skin of your cheek, pressing her warm palm against your face instead. You giggle brightly when the tiny ducklings try to snuggle up against the mother duck's feathers.
Wanda chuckles beside you, her thumb stroking your cheek delicately like you're something precious.
"What's funny, baby?" Wanda's voice raises a pitch, like the way you naturally do when you're speaking to a child. But for some reason, it doesn't bother you. It reminds you of Her and the way her voice would brighten when she'd see you.
You turn your head, giving Wanda a cute, little smile without really thinking about your words.
"They look like us."
Her eyes soften immediately, and she leans forward to press her lips softly against your cheek. "They do," she agrees, pulling back just enough to give you a smile filled with pure affection.
You both stare at the pond for a while, until Wanda glances down at her watch. You hear her take in a sharp breath before she finally releases your face. Her hand slides away from your inner thigh, leaving a sudden, chilling patch of cold skin behind.
"I'm sorry, baby, but I have to go now," she says quickly, though the profound softness remains in her voice.
Your lips instantly jut out in a pout. You move your legs off her lap, shifting on the wooden bench so you're sitting properly again. "Okay," you respond, your voice quiet and tinged with sadness. "I'll see you next time."
You force a wide smile onto your face, desperately reminding your frantic mind that you'll see her again soon.
She stands up, turning around to give you one last bright smile. "See you later, alligator," she says, her voice raised to that higher pitch again.
"Bye-bye, mommy," you respond automatically, waving your hand at her.
It's only when Wanda takes a few slow steps down the gravel path that your blood turns to ice.
Wanda freezes, suddenly coming to a stop. It feels like everything around you has paused, only Wanda's motions continuing. She turns around slowly to face you.
"S-Sorry," you stutter, your pulse hammering in your throat making your mouth turn dry. "I don't know why I said that."
She stares at you. Her green eyes are blown wide, her mouth agape as she looks at you with breathless intensity.
"Are youâ"
"Moya lyubov, I'm here to pick you up," a raspy voice sounds from right behind Wanda.
Wanda's mouth freezes, but she doesn't turn around, her eyes staying on you. Your heart is beating erratically, the pounding of it almost making your ribs ache.
"Wanda?" the voice asks, but she still doesn't move, like her gaze can't leave your body.
You lean forward slightly, meeting a pair of green eyes, slightly more vibrant than Wanda's. Her hair color is similar to Wanda's, but this woman wears a power suit, nothing like the comfortable, modest clothing you see Wanda wear.
The woman walks past Wanda to you, shaking Wanda out of her stupor.
"Natashâ"
"Hi, you must be the one that Wanda's been talking about," the woman starts. "I'm Natasha. Wanda's wife." Natasha lifts her hand up to you for a handshake.
Your hand lifts automatically, though it feels like your mind has gone completely blank. You shake her hand, her firm grip doing nothing to bring you back to reality.
Wife? you think frantically.
Your gaze darts down to Wanda's left hand, tracking a gold band resting on her ring finger. A ring you're absolutely certain you've never seen on her hand before today.
Then what was all of this? Eating together at restaurants, sitting side by side. Holding hands at farmer's markets because Wanda didn't want you to get lost. All the conversations you've had here a this bench.
Natasha's hand continues to hold yours in a firm grip. She scans your face, observing you closely.
"I can see why Wanda is so taken with you," she says with a small smile, though there's something else brewing behind her eyes.
You look past her to Wanda. Her eyes are wide, her face pale, like she's been caught in a terrible lie.
But Natasha knows about you. Wanda's talked to her about you.
You look back at Natasha. She doesn't look angry. Rather, she looks down at you with pity in her eyes, her lips pulled downward. The betrayal you expect to see on her face, replaced by something else entirely, sends your mind into a blur.
"WhatâŠ" you start, your voice barely a whisper.
What did you just get yourself into?
â
A/N: *laughs nervously* a bit morally ambiguous here huh? i was going to make it a bit spicier, but i felt like it was a waste of the concept to rush it. idk if i'm going to leave this as a one-shot or make it into a miniseries of sorts. let me know what you think âĄ
WHERE THE CHILDREN ARE BURIED - MOODBOARD
(ft. Demon!Wanda Maximoff x Sacrificed!Reader)
| Summary - When another human sacrifice ends up at her home, Wanda's first instinct is to take her to Rio so her soul can be reclaimed. Yet, there was something about this girl lying at feet that draws the demon to her; Wanda knows what she must do, but will she able to bring herself to do it?
Today, you were wearing your prettiest dress.
It might not have been as pretty as the ones worn by the women smiling on the covers of fashion magazinesâthe ones that had been clumsily hidden under teenagersâ mattressesâbut it was prettier than any dress youâd ever owned.
Summary: Y/N thought escaping the Red Room meant leaving it behind forever. But when the voices of former instructors begin haunting her mind, old trauma resurfaces in ways she canât ignore. As her mental health spirals and the line between memory and reality blurs, Wanda and Natasha realize the woman they love is suffering in silenceâand theyâll do anything to help her find her way back.
The first voice appeared on a Tuesday. You remembered that because Tuesdays were boring. Nothing special happened on Tuesdays. No missions. No world-ending catastrophes. No alien invasions. Just training. Paperwork. Dinner. Sleep. Normal. The kind of day that should have been forgettable. The kind of day that shouldnât have changed your life. You had been standing alone in the Avengers Tower kitchen making coffee when it happened. The room was quiet. The only sounds were the hum of the refrigerator and the soft drip of the coffee machine. Comfortable. Safe. Ordinary. Thenâ
âYour posture is slipping.â
You froze. The mug nearly slipped from your hand. A cold sensation crawled down your spine. The voice had been clear. Female. Sharp. Familiar. Too familiar. For one horrible second you thought someone was standing behind you. You spun around. Nothing. Empty kitchen. Empty doorway. Empty room. Your heart hammered against your ribs. The voice didnât come back. You told yourself youâd imagined it. Stress. Exhaustion. A weird memory. Nothing more. Nothing less. You finished making your coffee and forced yourself to move on. Because thatâs what you did. You always moved on.
ââ§áąâ
Three days later it happened again. This time during training. You were sparring with one of your girlfriends, Natasha. One of your favorite things. Something that usually helped clear your head. Natasha threw a punch. You blocked it. Countered. Moved. Everything normal. Everything routine. Untilâ
âToo slow.â
The words slammed into your skull. You missed Natashaâs next attack completely. The impact knocked you backward. Pain exploded through your shoulder. âY/N?âNatasha immediately lowered her stance and fell to her knees next to you. Concern flashed across her face.
âYou okay?â
You blinked. The training room returned. Bright lights. Rubber mats. The smell of sweat. Reality.
âIâm fine.â
Lie. But Natasha accepted it. At least for now.
ââ§áąâ
The voices became more frequent after that. Always female. Always familiar. Always sounding like someone from the Red Room. Instructors. Handlers. Trainers. Women who had spent years breaking you apart and rebuilding you into a weapon. Women who should have remained buried in the past. Instead they lived inside your head. Every day. Every night. Every waking moment.
âAgain.â
âNot good enough.â
âFailure.â
âStand up.â
âYou can do better.â
âWeak.â
The worst part wasnât hearing them. The worst part was that a tiny piece of you still believed them.
ââ§áąâ
Natasha noticed first. Of course she did. She had lived through the same nightmare. Maybe not exactly the same. But close enough. Close enough to recognize the signs. You stopped eating meals with everyone. Stopped laughing. Stopped making sarcastic comments. Stopped lingering in common areas. Stopped sleeping. The last one worried her most because Natasha knew what happened when former Widows stopped sleeping. She knew what nightmares could do. What memories could become.
One night she found you sitting alone in the gym at three in the morning. The lights were dim. The Tower silent. Everyone else asleep. You were hitting a punching bag so hard your knuckles were bleeding.
Punch. Punch. Punch.
Again. Again. Again.
The voice echoed through your head.
âFaster.â
Punch.
âPathetic.â
Punch.
âAgain.â
The bag swung violently. Your breathing became ragged. Your vision blurred. The voice grew louder.
âAgain.â....
âY/N.â
Natashaâs voice. Real. Present. The hallucination shattered. You looked up. She stood in the doorway wearing sweatpants and a faded SHIELD shirt. Her expression was unreadable. Which somehow made it worse.
âHow long have you been awake?â
You shrugged. Bad answer. Very bad answer. Natashaâs eyes narrowed.
âY/N.â
âCouple hours.â
Lie. You hadnât slept in nearly two days. Natasha knew it immediately. You saw it in her face. Saw the realization settle into her expression. The worry. The fear. The understanding. She approached slowly. Like she was handling a bomb. Or a wounded animal. Or both.
âYou need sleep.â
âIâm fine.â
Another lie. Natasha looked exhausted. Not physically. Emotionally. As if she was watching someone she loved slowly disappear.
ââ§áąâ
The nightmares started getting worse after that. Far worse. Because exhaustion made everything stronger. The voices. The memories. The fear. All of it. You woke up screaming three nights later. The sound ripped through the room before you could stop it. Instantly your girlfriends sat up in bed. Wanda. Natasha. Both terrified.
You sat upright in bed gasping for air. The nightmare still clinging to your skin. The Red Room dormitories. The cold floors. The punishments. The endless training. The feeling of never being enough. Never being safe. Never being free.
Wanda pulled your head to her chest without hesitation. One hand finding yours immediately.
âYouâre here.â
Simple words. Gentle words. Grounding words.
âYouâre home.â
Your chest hurt. Because part of you didnât believe her.
Wanda became increasingly worried over the following weeks. Not because of the nightmares. Not because of the exhaustion. Because she could feel your emotions. Not your thoughts. She would never invade your mind. But emotions slipped through sometimes. Especially powerful ones. And yours were becoming impossible to ignore.
Fear. Panic. Guilt. Shame. Constantly. Relentlessly. Every day. It was like standing next to a storm. And Wanda couldnât understand why. Not yet.
You became good at hiding things. The Red Room had taught you that. Smile. Perform. Function. No matter what was happening internally. So thatâs what you did. You trained. Completed missions. Attended briefings. Answered questions. Everything looked normal. Until you paid very close attention. And Wanda always paid close attention.
ââ§áąâ
One evening she found you standing frozen in the hallway. Completely still. Not moving. Not blinking. Not speaking. Just staring at nothing.
âDetka?â
No response. Wanda approached carefully. Concern growing with every step.
âY/N?â
Your breathing was uneven. Your hands trembling. Eyes focused on something that wasnât there. Then suddenlyâ You flinched violently. As if someone had shouted. As if someone had struck you. Reality returned. You looked at Wanda. Terrified. Absolutely terrified. And for the first time Wanda realized this wasnât stress. This wasnât burnout. Something was deeply wrong.
ââ§áąâ
The confrontation happened two days later. Not because you wanted it to. Because your mind finally gave out.
The team was running a routine training exercise. Nothing complicated. Nothing dangerous. Just simulations. Practice. You should have been fine. Instead the voices were louder than ever. Every step. Every movement. Every mistake.
âAgain.â
âToo slow.â
âWorthless.â
âAgain.â
Your breathing accelerated. You couldnât focus. Couldnât think. Couldnât separate memory from reality. The simulation room suddenly felt different. Smaller. Colder. Familiar. The walls looked like the Red Room. The instructors sounded real. The past wrapped around your throat. And thenâ You heard her. The handler. The woman who had spent years tearing you apart. The voice was crystal clear. Standing directly behind you.
âLook at you.â
Your blood ran cold.
âStill disappointing.â
The world tilted. The room disappeared. Reality fractured. You werenât an Avenger anymore. You werenât in the Tower. You were seventeen. Trapped. Broken. Terrified. Back in the Red Room.
âY/N!â
Someone grabbed your shoulders. You screamed. Instinct took over. You shoved them away violently. Chaos erupted. The simulation stopped. People shouted. Everything blurred together. Until suddenlyâ
Red energy. Warm hands. Green eyes. Wanda. Natasha. Both standing in front of you. Neither afraid. Neither angry. Just worried. Devastatingly worried. And somehow that hurt most of all.
ââ§áąâ
The panic attack lasted nearly an hour. By the end you were curled up on the floor shaking. Unable to meet anyoneâs eyes. Unable to explain. Unable to pretend anymore. The team quietly left. Giving space. Giving privacy. Leaving only Wanda and Natasha behind. The three of you sat in silence. The training room unusually quiet. Until Natasha finally spoke. Softly. Carefully. The way someone approaches a wound.
âAre you hearing voices again?â
Again. The word shattered something inside you. Because she already knew. She had known for weeks. Maybe longer. And she had been waiting. Waiting for you to trust her enough to tell the truth.
Tears burned behind your eyes. You hated crying. Hated vulnerability. Hated feeling weak. The Red Room had conditioned those reactions into you. But you couldnât stop it. The first tear slipped free. Then another. Then another. And suddenly you were crying so hard you couldnât breathe. Years of pain. Years of fear. Years of pretending. All breaking apart at once.
Natasha moved first. She always did. She sat beside you. Pulled you against her chest. Held you together when you felt like you were falling apart.
âItâs okay.â
You shook your head violently. âNo.â Your voice cracked. âNo, itâs not.â The words spilled out before you could stop them. âThey wonât stop.â
Natasha stiffened. Wandaâs eyes filled with tears immediately. You laughed bitterly. Broken. Exhausted. Hopeless.
âTheyâre always there.â
The confession hung in the air. Heavy. Painful. Real.
ââ§áąâ
For nearly an hour you told them everything. Every voice. Every nightmare. Every panic attack. Every moment of terror. Every hallucination. Everything. The words felt poisonous leaving your mouth. Like dragging shards of glass from old wounds. But Wanda and Natasha listened. Never interrupting. Never judging. Never looking away. Just listening. Because they loved you. And because they needed to know how much pain youâd been carrying alone.
When you finally finished speaking, silence filled the room. You couldnât look at either of them. You expected disappointment. Fear. Maybe even disgust. Instead Natasha cupped your face. Forced you to meet her gaze. And what you saw there nearly broke you all over again. Love. Pure love. Nothing else. No fear. No judgment. No pity. Just love.
âYou should have told us.â
The words werenât angry. They were heartbroken. Wanda reached for your hand. Her own shaking slightly.
âWeâre your family.â
You started crying again. Because family had always been a complicated word. The Red Room had stolen that concept from you long ago. Yet somehow Wanda and Natasha kept rebuilding it. Piece by piece. Day by day. Teaching you what love was supposed to look like.
ââ§áąâ
Recovery wasnât immediate. It wasnât dramatic. It wasnât easy. Some mornings you woke up convinced everything was improving. Other mornings the voices returned before your eyes even opened. Some days you couldnât leave bed. Some days you felt almost normal. Healing wasnât a straight line. It was a battlefield. And every day felt like a fight.
The difference was that now you werenât fighting alone. Natasha started checking in constantly. Never overbearing. Never controlling. Just present. Always present. A hand on your shoulder. A cup of coffee. A quiet conversation. A reminder that someone cared. Someone noticed. Someone stayed.
ââ§áąâ
Wanda became your anchor during the worst episodes. When the voices grew loud. When reality blurred. When panic consumed you. She would sit beside you. Hold your hands. Guide you back. Patiently. Repeatedly. As many times as necessary. One particularly bad night the voices became overwhelming. You sat on the bathroom floor shaking. Hands covering your ears. Trying desperately to make them stop.
âWeak.â
âFailure.â
âAgain.â
âAgain.â
âAgain.â
Tears streamed down your face. The room spun. Your chest felt too tight. Too small. Too painful. Then the door opened. And Wanda found you. She didnât ask questions. Didnât demand explanations. Didnât tell you to calm down. She simply sat beside you. Wrapped her arms around your shoulders. And stayed. The voices continued. But Wanda remained. Warm. Steady. Real. Eventually that mattered more.
ââ§áąâ
Months later things werenât perfect. The voices still appeared occasionally. The nightmares still happened. The scars remained. But something had changed. You had changed. The voices no longer controlled you. They no longer defined you. Because every cruel thing they said had to compete with reality. And reality was stronger. Reality was Wanda kissing your forehead before missions. Reality was Natasha pulling you into her lap while watching movies. Reality was laughter. Safety. Home. Love.
ââ§áąâ
One evening you sat between them on the couch. A movie playing quietly in the background. Your head resting on Wandaâs shoulder. Natashaâs fingers intertwined with yours. Comfortable silence. The kind that only existed between people who knew each other completely. Then a voice whispered. Soft. Familiar.
âYou donât deserve this.â
For a moment old fear stirred. Old pain. Old doubt. Then Natasha squeezed your hand. Wanda kissed your temple. And the voice lost its power. Because they were real. The Red Room wasnât. The past wasnât. Those women werenât here. But Wanda and Natasha were.
Years of conditioning had taught you that love was earned. That mistakes deserved punishment. That weakness deserved cruelty. Wanda and Natasha spent every day proving otherwise. Teaching you. Showing you. Reminding you. Again and again and again. Until eventually you started believing them. And whenever the bad days returned â Whenever the nightmares resurfacedâ Whenever the voices whispered from the shadows of your mindâYou no longer faced them alone. Because Natasha would sit beside you. Because Wanda would hold your hand. Because both women loved you enough to stay. Even when things got ugly. Even when recovery became messy. Even when you struggled to love yourself. And sometimes, during those difficult nights, Natasha would brush a strand of hair from your face. Wanda would wrap a blanket around your shoulders. And one of them would ask quietly:
âAre you hearing voices again?â
Not with fear. Not with judgment. Not with disappointment. Just love. Just concern. Just a gentle reminder that you didnât have to carry the weight by yourself anymore. And for the first time since escaping the Red Roomâ You believed it. â€ïž
