Two Hearts Series (Formerly Mask) (Completed) [Angst]
It was suppose to be a special night, so how it end with you completely broken hearted?
Healing of a Broken Heart Series (Completed) [Angst, Fluff]
When Vision broke Wanda’s heart, you were left to heal the cracks, but how can you heal hers, when you risk breaking your own?
The Funny Thing About Love (On hold) [AU, Fluff, Angst]
When Pietro Maximoff made you promise to look after his sister, Wanda, you had carelessly agreed. Following his death, you find yourself leaving everything you know behind to keep the dying wish of your best friend, but things get complicated when you find yourself falling for the woman. You never meant to fall in love with Wanda Maximoff, but that's the funny thing about love...
Deja Vu - [Fluff, Oneshot]
You and Wanda broke up a while back and she’s moved on with Vision, but you can’t help but notice a few similarities in her new relationship with Vision and her old one with you. Of course you’re going to tease her about it, let her try to deny it.
Her Familiar Tune - [Fluff, Angst Oneshot]
What a beautiful voice for a beautiful girl. Everyone has heard of love at first sight, but falling for Wanda was love at first song.
The Color of Her - [Fluff, Angst, Oneshot]
From the night she saved you to the night you proposed, loving Wanda was always red.
The Night Before - [Chaos, Fluff, Part 1]
Nothing says, "I drank too much last night" like waking up in someone else's bed with the one person that hates you and no recollection of how you got there.
Kiss and Tell - [Chaos, Fluff, Part 2]
Keeping your secret hookups with Wanda a secret was a lot harder than you thought.
The Lies We Tell - [Angst, High School AU]
Highschool AU where you and Wanda are secretly dating, but nobody knows. Then, one day Vision asks Wanda out in front of everyone and you just have to pretend to not care so you don't expose yourselves.
Morning Kisses and Sleepy Hellos - [Fluff, Oneshot/Blurb]
There is nothing more beautiful than waking up in the morning next to Wanda.
======
Natasha Romanoff
Fleeting Love Series (Completed) [Angst]
You can feel Natasha slipping away, and you don’t know how to make it stop.
Emerald Eyes - [Angst, Fluff, OneShot]
After the Blip, you and Natasha only had each other left.
Liar - [Angst, Oneshot]
Love made Natasha Romanoff a liar.
Acceptance - [Angst, Oneshot]
Natasha Romanoff was dead and she would never be coming back, that was reality, but it was a reality that you didn't want to accept.
Natasha's Wrath - [Chaos, Fluff, Oneshot]
When faced with Natasha’s wrath, one only has two options: run or hide. And if she finds you anyways, no amount of praying will save your from your certain doom.
Chaos - [Chaos, Fluff, Oneshot]
Chaos is all the Compound has known since the introduction of Yelena.
When She Was Not - [Angst, Blurb]
The fears were there when she was not.
Belong - [Fluff, Oneshot]
The Avengers are such a tight knit family that it’s hard to feel like you belong sometimes, but with Thanksgiving coming up, maybe you could find your place among them yet.
Midnight Confessions - [Fluff, Oneshot]
“Natasha waking up in the middle of the night craving a snack, embarrassed when getting caught by you shuffling through their kitchen” + “The bed was lonely without you.”
When It's Over - [Angst, Oneshot]
Jealously, anger, secrets- you and Natasha truly had it all. One phone call and a car ride later, there you were again - in front of her door steps and back into her arms. But really, why had you expected differently?
======
Yelena Belova
An Uninvited Guest- [Fluff, Oneshot]
Who would be dumb enough to break into the apartment of a trained assassin?
Oblivious Series- (Ongoing) [Fluff]
Just how oblivious can a person be? Turns out, pretty damn oblivious if you’re (Y/N) (L/N).
In The Bushes - [Chaos, Blurb] NEW
Two assassins and a witch go out one day and...hide in a bush?
Happy early Valentines! Could I have a reader taking care of Natasha after a mission blurb? TY!
The Love I'll Give
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: When Natasha comes back hurt one mission, you wonder if you could be brave enough to risk the delicate balance of things to offer a hand.
For as long as you have loved Natasha, there had existed a wall - a barrier that surrounded the redhead and her heart, separating her from the rest of the world.
But you had a bridge - brittle and delicate, one wrong move from giving in and shattering away- but it was a bridge nevertheless. And it was yours.
With this bridge you were able to get close: close to the wall, close to her heart, close to the real Natasha.
She loved you. That much you knew. And you loved her. That much you made sure she knew. Everything else about your relationship with Natasha, however, felt just as fragile as the glass bridge that connected you.
Standing by the entrance of your shared bedroom, you peered into the dimly lit room. The only source of light was a flickering bedside lamp that had seen better days. Natasha was sitting by the foot of your bed, back turned slightly away from you. You could just barely make out the explosion of red on her shirt, growing darker with each passing moment, but you knew immediately she had been hurt.
Too focused on her task at hand, however, Natasha didn't notice you. The very failure of which, serving as testament to her current state. Eyes trained on her wound, the Russian's concentration was unbroken. She carefully dabbed at her injury with a cloth, wincing slightly as she worked.
Despite the pain, she remained dead silent.
From your place at the entrance, you watched, unsure if you should announce your presence. You knew Natasha's independent nature all to well. She was strong, resilient, and frustratingly stubborn. You didn't want to make things worse by barging in uninvited. But the sight of her tending to her injury alone was enough to break down the last of your resolve.
Hesitating, you cleared your throat- fear of rejection at the forefront of your thoughts.
"Natasha." You managed out, voice barely above a whisper. The dread that filled you immediately was almost enough to make you want to retreat.
Guarded eyes snapped around to meet your gaze - dark, untrusting. The Russian didn't respond, but you could see her palpably tense up. You immediately regretted speaking, fearing that you had just overstepped.
"Hey," she offered back, voice as cold as the room. It was clear she was not in the mood for company.
You gulped, feeling sick, "Are you alright?" With a weak gesture you nodded to her wounds. You tried your best to keep your voice from shaking, hoping to not expose your nerves.
"Yeah. It's just a scratch." She replied, turning back away from you. You didn't miss the way her jaw clenched through her lie.
Taking her in more fully - the way she was holding herself, the way she avoided your gaze - you could tell Natasha was really hurting, and it spoke volumes.
"Let me help." You offered, a small surge of courage coming over you. You took a step into the room, crossing the undrawn boundary that had separated you from the redhead mere seconds ago.
Natasha flinched at your movement. Visibly flinched. And you knew that whatever had hurt the woman clearly did worse than just make her bleed.
"I'm fine." She insisted, recovering from her slip. Her expression grew cold and it stung like frostbite.
"Natasha, please." You tried, hoping to reason with her. From what you could see of her injuries, you knew that it would be difficult for her to stitch up on her own, "I know you don't need my help. I know you're strong," Your voice was caving in, but you refused to acknowledge it, "But let me help? Even the strongest people need someone to lean on sometimes."
Natasha only stared back at you, gaze filled with stubbornness, but for a moment, just a moment, you saw her exterior crack and caught the glimpse of a woman drowning in her pain.
You took another step closer, reaching for her.
This time, the redhead jerked back with intention. Her gaze turning deadly, "I said I don't need your help, Y/N." She snapped, voice clipped.
You caught onto her emphasis and recognized she intended you to, but you still couldn't stop the pang of hurt that arose from her words. Arms falling back to your side, you stopped in your tracks.
"I'm sorry," You immediately apologized, suddenly filled with regret, "I didn't mean to push."
You knew you had gone too far. Taking a step back, you created distance between the two of you, feeling like you had just shattered your glass bridge.
Natasha glared- anger evident in every morsal of her being, making you wish you were dead. Regret from your actions bubbled in your throat, and you swallowed back the desire to vomit.
But as her gaze remained on you, the fight left Natasha's body. A million emotions seemed to flashed through those green eyes of hers. The same ones you could never seem to truly figure out. After a long silence, one that felt like an eternity, she let out a sigh, "I'm sorry."
Her words surprised you, allowing you to raise your head back up to meet her gaze. You watched as she attempt to take a deep breath, a small wince escaping her lips as she did. Without a word, you moved forward again, this time much more cautious. You stopped in front of her, kneeling so that your eyes were level with hers.
"Please, Natasha." You begged, not knowing why you were expecting a different answer, "Let me help you. I just want to take care of you."
Natasha's eyes locked onto yours, searching for something you didn't quite understand. You prepared yourself for rejection. But it never came.
Instead, your girlfriend reached out a hand, bloodied and bruised, but tender as she placed it on your cheek, "I know," She sounded so tired, so broken, and your heart ached with pain for her, wishing it could hold even just a fraction of her suffering, "I just... don't know how to let anyone take care of me."
You leaned into her touch, letting her know you heard her, "You don't have to know," Reaching your own hand up, you took her hand into yours, "Just let me show you."
Natasha took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. The years seemed to disappeared from her face as she did. When she opened her eyes again, her expression was softer than before, "Okay," she whispered, relenting, "But be careful."
You nodded, relieved at last, and took the cloth from her hands. With gentle hands, you began to clean the wound, careful not to hurt her further. Natasha winced once or twice, but she never pull away. Instead, little by little she relaxed, as if finally allowing herself to be vulnerable in your presence.
As you worked, telling her about small details of your day, the things that had happened at work, the funny things you'd seen on the way home, Natasha listened quietly, eyes never leaving you. Slowly, you felt your glass bridge begin to rebuild itself, brick by brick.
Finally, you finished tending to her wound and sat back, looking at her. Natasha looked back at you, her eyes filled with a strange mix of emotions. You could see the wall around her heart still there, but it seemed to be a little lower, a little more fragile.
"Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Anytime," you replied, smiling.
For a moment, you sat there in silence, just looking at each other. It was different from the conversation that had filled the room just moments before, but it was in the silence that you finally understood that your glass bridge wasn't nearly as fragile as you had thought it was.
Instead, it was strong enough to bear the weight of your love for each other, and for whatever lay ahead.
AN: Pretty short. Very little time investment. Why not give it a read?
Summary: Natasha was late. Again. And again. Always when it mattered.
Dead were the flowers that laid on the window sills of your dining room.
A plate of food sat upon a burgundy table, the contents having long gone cold.
Glancing up at the clock on the wall, barely lit by a flickering candle on its last dying breath, you noted the time.
12:30.
Sighing, you looked down to your plate, the food upon it as lifeless as the room you sat in. The colors looked drained from what was in front of you, what had once been a vibrant and colorful meal, now a dull, mix of mashed pieces.
It had been five hours.
You had waited. Just like she had asked.
You silently chided yourself for always doing as she had wanted.
She was late again. Or worse yet, she wasn't even going to show.
Again.
To say you were disappointed wouldn't have even began to encompass what you truly felt.
But...
From the distance then, the soft, but ever distinct hum of a car engine caught your interest- straight beams of lights from abnormally bright headlights growing brighter as they penetrated through thin silk curtains of a dusty door panel.
Someone was coming.
Could it be?
Almost leaping up from your seat, you pushed your chair out, ignoring the way it screeched against the floor. Rushing to the front door, you felt like the whole world suddenly got brighter with the approaching light.
For a moment, just a moment, everything seemed right.
Your steps hurried, almost in sync with the beating of your heart.
You were upset of course that she had made you wait. Even after she had promised. God, had she promised. Over and over again. That she would be on time. That she would be there. That she would be better.
But for that moment, a small peek of hope flickered back to life inside you. And everything seemed to be okay.
She was just late. Late but at least here at last.
But...
But the car didn't stop. Instead, it came, and it went. Until there was nothing left but the quiet, emptiness of the night again. Until you were nothing left but a sad, desperate shell with nothing again.
And with the car, left the breath you had been holding without even realizing.
She wasn't coming after all.
The soft pitters of rain began sounding themselves against your window by the flower; more evident in the silence, and you caught the way they raced down the glass; almost cruel in the way they danced themselves infront of the limp plant.
Shriveled. Crumbling. Dying.
When had the room gotten so cold?
Almost shivering, you pulled on the jacket you wore, attempting to pull it tighter against you. Fighting against a phantom chill that only seemed to get worse. It was like the heat was being drained out of you.
When had your relationship gotten so bad?
The attempt to warm up was fruitless though. It was impossible to escape the cold.
///
From what seemed a world away, Natasha sat at the counter of a bar, nursing a half finished glass of whiskey. She considered flagging down the bartender for another before deciding to just steal some more herself.
All around her, the room was buzzing with life. An inescapable blur of colors and lights dancing and contorting themselves around Natasha until it made her dizzy.
Beside the redhead, some freshly picked flowers had been placed by her, ornamental and beautiful by all means; however, the scent of which so sweet it was almost sickening.
Glancing up at the clock, Natasha's blurry eyes took in the time.
12:30.
Shit.
She was five hours late.
Hands going to her jacket pocket, Natasha dug for her phone, searching for it. No matter which pocket she searched, however, her phone seemed to not be there. When at last she found her little device, she groaned immediately upon seeing it dead.
What did it matter anyways?
Natasha felt her arm drop back to her side.
Five hours? Ten hours? It could be twenty.
She was always late. It wasn't like anyone was really waiting for her anyways.
"Another Miss. Romanoff?" The bartender came back, having caught the Russian reaching for another bottle of alcohol.
It was a formality. Nothing more. Everyone knew that the tab had already been paid for and Natasha was welcomed to everything she desired.
"Yes, another." She agreed.
There was no rush to leave. Not for Natasha. Not anymore.
Once. Once there had been, though.
Once there had existed someone who would have been waiting for her. Someone who would've been sitting by the front door of her house refusing to leave until the redhead would return. Someone who would have lectured the Russian about being late, throwing around faux threats of giving up one day, but ultimately giving in to the simple satisfaction and happiness that Natasha had returned safely.
Once, Natasha had had someone to come home to.
But she had been late.
Five hours late.
Five hours that you had laid by the front door bleeding out after they had found you. The people she was suppose to have protected you from.
Five hours that you had been clutching your wound, praying that Natasha would arrive sooner and rescue you.
Five hours that she could've had to save you, if she had only been there.
Feeling her hold suddenly tightened around her drink, Natasha fought back the tears that threatened to escape.
12:31. Five hours and a minute more.
It didn't matter.
No one was waiting.
---
AN: Yikes, I am rusty. But what the hell, its for fun anyways. Will I edit this? Probably. Maybe. Well....
The day you realized your feelings for Wanda was the day the secrets began.
It seemed so stupidly simple now - how easily you fell for the girl.
A shared smiled and a short hello.
And even more stupidly funny how long it took you to realize your feelings.
Neighbors since birth, best friends since forever.
But what wasn't simple nor funny was the fear that came with the revelation of your feelings. A cruel, twisted uneasiness that followed every grazing touch and shy smile - a slow, stomach churning nervousness serving no other purpose than to remind you of how unexplainably wrong it was for you to feel such way towards Wanda.
You didn't really know why:
Why you found yourself falling for your best friend.
Why you felt so guilty about it.
Why exactly everything was so wrong.
But from the very onset of your discovery, you just knew that your feelings would have to be a secret.
And so a secret it became. Between the countless sleepovers and random late night talks about people you honestly could not have cared less about, you became pretty good at hiding your feelings, at pushing them away.
It was a secret that was yours and yours only. To keep. To hold. To take to your grave.
And you were okay with it.
But then one day things changed.
One day, in the blur and confusion of a late night where nothing really seemed to matter yet everything also seemed to matter too much, Wanda had kissed you - a soft hesitant kiss so haunting in its uncertainty and so full of quiet yearning that it dug up years of buried feelings in the two seconds it lasted.
One kiss... and you were no longer alone.
Looking over at the sleeping girl now - her head rested on your shoulder, a hand intertwined tightly with yours on your lap - you wondered how you had ever been happy before her.
Almost like she had somehow read your mind, Wanda stirred then, and slowly, sleep dazed eyes opened to meet yours.
"Hey." You whispered, keeping your voice low to accommodate her still waking form.
A gentle smile, soft enough to melt your heart all over again, rewarded your greeting, "Hey." Wanda echoed back, voice cracking ever so slightly. Her speech dripped with evidence of sleep. "Did I fall asleep?"
Chuckling softly, you shook your head, moving to press a small kiss onto her forehead, "No." You harmlessly lied, rubbing at the marks that had appeared on the girl's cheeks from where her face had been pressing into your shirt.
Squinting her eyes, Wanda's brows drew together in answer to your obvious lie, but you could tell she was too tired to do anything beyond that, "I might have been a little tired." She admitted, mumbling against your touch.
"Really? I couldn't tell." You sarcastically responded, the words leaving your lips before you could really think them through.
The comment earned you a well deserved pinch to your side.
"Ow!"
"Dummy."
Huffing out another chuckle, you slowly caressed your thumb across your now grumpy girlfriend's cheek, apologizing for your sarcasm through the touch. Glaring up at you, albeit very cutely in her drowsy state, Wanda could be seen fighting the urge to accept your apology.
"I'm sorry." You verbalized for good measure, though you could tell the brunette had long forgiven you.
"No." She tried to mumbled through a yawn, the sight making you elicit a yawn of your own, sleep suddenly feeling overwhelmingly enticing, "I don't accept it." Despite her words, Wanda visibly leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering as the beginnings of sleep started to creep up on her once again.
"Oh, really?" You teased, watching how the girl melted into your touch with every passing second.
"Yes...really."
Knowing that sleep was mere moments away from overtaking her, you gently started pulling the Sokovian further into you: carefully positioning the two of you so that you could better hold her in your arms. There were a few muted muffles of protest from your girlfriend as she insisted that she wasn't sleepy.
Nevertheless, it wasn't long before her sleepy breaths overtook the room again, filling it with a serenity like no other. With the girl you loved in your arms and the cozy warmth of her presence, you knew that you weren't going to be far behind - the calling of sleep too alluring to ignore.
In moments like these, it was easy to forget about all the troubles of the day: of the secrets and lies that took up so much of your life. You would be lying if you didn't admit to having it keep you awake at times.
Too many nights were spent alone in your bed, with nothing but the loneliness of the day in your head. Where Wanda was during those times? God only knows.
It was impossible to keep up with her: between all her clubs, practices, and more. And even when you were with her, you might as well not have been: the reminder that in public you were nothing more than friends constant in the way the brunette would all but ignore you.
That was reality of your situation. To have Wanda only in secret. To hold her only when no one else could see nor perceive you.
It wasn't easy: constantly having to hide how you feel in fear of facing what everyone else might think of your relationship. Not being able to hold her. Not being able to love her. Sometimes you wonder if you'd would've been better off not having her at all.
But the worst of it all was Vision.
Vision, who would flirt with Wanda shamelessly, oblivious to her disinterest. Who would call her name out from across the hallway, ignoring all the stares just so he could catch up and walk with her to class. Who would invite the Sokovian out to thinly veiled excuses for a date on the daily. Vision, who would do all of that and more simply because he could. Because Wanda let him.
"It's a good cover." She had told you, the first time she agreed to go out with him, "It'll keep everyone from getting suspicious, plus... my parents might finally get off my back." The plead in her voice was evident. She had to convince you. She needed to.
"Alright, I guess its okay."
You hadn't like it, of course, the idea of your girlfriend on a date with someone else (even if simply to keep up appearances). But regardless of how you might have felt, the smallest part of you knew too that she was right.
"One day, moya lyubov." She had promised, interlacing your finger with hers. The touch felt foreign and manipulative, as if they knew their effects on you," One day, we won't have to do this."
Every part of you wished the day would just come already.
"One day." You had simply repeated back.
And with each passing day, and each fleeting moment, you only found yourself hating that you had ever agreed to Wanda's suggestion more and more; the height of your anger peaking when you would see the way Vision was around her - whispering in her ears and lingering touches that you could only do behind close doors and in the sanctity of your dreams.
The bitterness of your situation could not be escaped.
From her spot on your chest, the brunette stirred then, calling out your name softly, and the suddenness of it pulled you out of your thoughts.
"(Y/N)?" A barely audible voice called out.
Glancing down at the still sleepy Wanda in your arms, you caught sight of her snuggling closer into you, as if making sure you were still there, "Yes?"
There was a moment of complete silence.
"Just...checking." She whispered, so quietly that you almost didn't hear her.
You would be lying if you didn't admit that her words confused you, "Checking what?"
There was no response, only silence like before. But just as you were about to repeat your question, the return of the familiar breathing of a sleeping Wanda became more audible, and you knew immediately she had fallen back to sleep.
A small bubble of amusement escaped you, and you found yourself tenderly pulling the girl closer again.
Her peace was admirable, so precious and pure. It almost hurt to see her like this, the love you felt painfully constricting your heart with every beat.
Maybe...just maybe... it was worth it?
As much as you hated it, everything was for a reason. If the hurt and pain you had to suffer was necessary so that you could have moment like this: maybe, it would all be worth it.
"Good night, Wanda." You whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of her head as her familiar scent washed over you.
Maybe one day, you would have the courage to tell the Sokovian how you felt. Of how truly unhappy you were sometimes.
Moving to situate yourself more comfortably, you stretched to get the blanket beside you and drape it over the two of you, now completely intertwine into a mesh of limbs.
But, at that moment, all you knew was the comfort of her Wanda's presence and the warmth of her touch.
Careful to not wake the sleeping girl, you reached to your side and turned off the light.
And so, for another night, you kept your secret, just so that when you woke up the next morning, you could at least still be Wanda's.
///
AN: GUYS, give Wanda the benefit of the doubt. I know she doesn't seem so good right now.
I would more than be hap-pea to pea your Valentine this year<3. For the celebration, could I request a soft Wanda blurb with the two early in the morning. There's just soft kisses on bare shoulders and really fluffy and loving gestures.
Morning Kisses and Sleepy Hellos
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
WC: ~1k words
---
There were plenty of beautiful things in the world - a list of which that could probably wrap around the entire Earth and then some if they were to be written down - but if you were to be asked to choose the single most beautiful: you would argue it to be the sight of waking up in the morning next to Wanda.
Her auburn hair delicately draped across her shoulders, the woman was still asleep when you awoken - her soft, even breaths evidence to that. And with only the faintest of the morning light peeking through the blinds of your covered window, you knew that she would remain asleep for much longer too if not disturbed.
Simply lying there, you chose to remain still in place, fearing that any movement on your part, however minuscule, would stir the Sokovian awake from her blissful state.
It was a fruitless worry, you knew: Wanda was one of the heaviest sleepers on the team, not even a crashed plane would likely have awoken her up once she was out. But at that moment, the smallest fear of destroying the sleepy peace that currently enveloped the two of you took front and center.
A leg hooked over your waist pulling you close and an arm sprawled across your chest keeping you close - the way the Sokovian was so thoroughly intertwined with you was impressive, her hold on you simultaneously iron tight and gentle.
If it had only been up to you, you would've chosen to stay in bed forever. To stay in Wanda's arms forever.
But unfortunately for you, the fate of your morning had already been determined the night before. A small huff of disapproval escaped your lips at the realization.
You nevertheless allowed yourself a few more minutes of indulgence, - relishing in Wanda's warmth and drowning in her touch, simply enjoying her - before letting the reluctant memories of the day's responsibility begin to sober you up.
When the last of the sleepy fog was gone from your mind, you turned to Wanda.
"Hey Wands," You whispered, nudging the woman gently with the arm you had wrapped around her shoulders. The smallest flutter of a reaction was all that you got in response, "Wands, love, we have to get up." You tried again, more insistently this time. The low grumble of a sleepy protest vibrated from where Wanda laid by your side.
Smiling as the Sokovian attempted to bury herself deeper into the bed in an attempt to ignore your calls to wake, you brushed some loose strands of hair off her shoulders, "Come on, we have a meeting to attend." You reminded her, tracing your thumb across her skin. Small goosebumps trailed your path. Leaning in, you gently pressed a kiss to her shoulder, "If we don't get up, the team will send Natasha..." You warned. Wanda didn't answer, only moving her hand up to your head, tangling her fingers into your hair as you peppered kisses along her skin, "We both know she won't be happy if she has to fetch us."
Something along the lines of "I won't be happy if I have to get up" was muttered into your side.
Chuckling, you next pressed a tender kiss to Wanda's collar.
With a small tug, the Sokovian pulled your head up to meet hers. Upon seeing her still sleep dazed state and wild hair, a wide smile split across your face, "Hey, sleepyhead," You kissed her nose in greeting, "Good morning."
Half lidded eyes met yours, "Hello." A soft smile graced Wanda's face at your kiss, affection lighting up her eyes, before her lips fell into a pout, "It's way too early to be awake right now." She softly declared.
You melted at the sight of her pout but knew that was her intention, "I agree, but we really do have to get to that meeting."
An adorable scrunch of Wanda's nose in distaste rewarded your answer, "Do we though?" She posed.
"Yes." You grimaced.
Wanda's brows drew together, "I would disagree."
Shaking your head in amusement, you snorted, "Have I ever told you how endearing you are when you're half awake?"
"Have I ever told you about how uncompromising you can be sometimes?" She jokingly retorted.
This time it was your turn to fake a pout, "But we promised..."
Wanda's eyes flicked down to your lips, staying there, "Promises are worthless compared to sleep."
You held back a smile at noticing her newfound interest in your lips, "Everyone else will be going."
The hand behind your head started pushing you forward towards Wanda, "Everyone else doesn't matter."
Feeling her breath now, fanning over your face, you raised a brow, " And what about- " The Sokovian craned up then, interrupting you. You tried to finish the rest of your sentence, but inevitably couldn't, forgetting all thoughts in your head as Wanda's lips molded perfectly with yours.
Easy butterflies awoke in your stomach.
"Why don't we just...stay in bed a little longer?" She suggested between kisses, speech slow and slurred. Your eyelids fluttered as she began to massage your scalp with experienced hands, "I'm sure no one would even notice." She continued, pulling you to her chest - her movement so slow you didn't even notice what she was doing until you suddenly found yourself back in her arms, tangled with her limbs, "No one." She muttered, words barely above a whisper. Her nose snuggled into the top of your head.
"But - we promised." You held on, only to have your words dampened by an unavoidable yawn.
Wanda hummed in satisfaction at the sound.
"Don't worry." She dismissed, moving her hand down your neck, "They won't mind."
Your body began to betray you, a sleepy fog beginning to creep back into your mind, each brush of Wanda's nail against the back of your neck lulling you deeper.
"I don't know..."
Your words were again paired with a yawn.
"Just a few more minutes..." Wanda proposed.
Your lids started feeling heavy, too heavy, "Just a few more minutes..." You repeated.
A nod could be felt above you, "Yeah. Just a few more." She promised.
You felt the first wave of sleep wash over you - the combined ministration of Wanda's fingers and soft words winning you over.
"Okay." You relented, fully melting into Wanda's touch, "Just a few more."
The two of you ended up missing the whole meeting.
Summary: Two assassins and a witch go out one day and .... hide in a bush?
Warning/s: Literally no plot whatsoever, blurb
One second Natasha was casually strolling down the streets of New York City, the next, she was being roughly pulled into a large bush.
"What the-?!" The Russian exclaimed in surprise, lashing out at her attacker on instinct.
A firm hand quickly clasped over her mouth, muffling the remainder of her sentence, and another stopped her punch mid-air.
"Shhh, sestra, don't worry. It's just me, Yelena." A familiar voice reassured, calm and collected despite the situation.
Natasha whipped her head around towards the voice, greeted with the unusual sight of her younger sister, Yelena, and the Sokovian, Wanda, crouched suspiciously behind the base of a large hedge, ridiculous hats atop their heads.
"Hey, Natasha!" The Sokovian politely waved in greeting, the leaves on her hat rustling from the small movements of her action.
"Hey...Wanda..." Natasha returned hesitantly, trying to process the scene before her, “What are you doing here?” The redhead's eyes snapped over to Yelena, "Actually - let me try again, what are YOU doing here, Lena?" She demanded from her sister instead, sensing that whatever mischief was happening... it had most likely been Yelena's idea.
Yelena's face dropped in a second, eyes widening fearfully as she urgently gestured for the older Russian to quiet down, "SHHHHHH! Stop. Talking. So. Loud." She hissed, looking truly stressed as she sliced the air with a "silence" motion.
Natasha quirked a high brow at the request, thoroughly unimpressed with her sister's flair for dramatics, but reluctantly obliged the command nevertheless, "Fine. But answer the question, what are you two doing hiding in a bush?" She tried again, this time in an obedient, hushed whisper much to Yelena's approval.
"We're on a mission." The blonde explained, her voice low and ominous like she was afraid someone would overhear her - who though, Natasha would never know.
"What mission?" The redhead probed, not remembering hearing about any missions recently.
Yelena ignored her sister for a second, shooting up from her crouched position to quickly peek over the edge of the hedge, shooting back down only a second later, "Just... a mission." She answered vaguely, casually avoiding her sister's questioning gaze.
Natasha began to feel her patience wear thin, "Lena..." She warned, narrowing her eyes.
Catching sight of Natasha's glare, Yelena sighed in exasperation, "Fine, if you have to know, it's not really a real mission, per se, it’s of a more...personal nature." She started clarifying, the beginnings of a faint blush crawling up the back of her neck.
Natasha was still lost, getting nothing from the explanation, "What does that even mean-"
"Oh, here they come!" Wanda suddenly interrupted, practically hopping in anticipation. Yelena's eyes lit up and Natasha closed her mouth, knowing that whoever or whatever was coming, she would be getting her answer soon.
"Here, Talia, put this on." Yelena turned back to the redhead, offering Natasha a hat identical to the one that she and Wanda currently had atop their heads.
The older Russian looked down at the cap with a mix of disgust and concern.
A collection of leaves had been roughly glued to the top of a standard ball cap, creating an intertwining mass of leaves and twigs that just vaguely resembled a hedge, “What in the world is this ugly thing?" She asked, holding the object wearingly away from her body, "Is this one of Morgan’s arts and crafts projects?”
A flash of offense immediately ran through Yelena’s face, “No, actually I - oh nevermind, just put the hat on!” She ordered, pushing the bush cap roughly towards Natasha.
Grumbling discontentedly, the redhead reluctantly pulled the ugly hat over her head.
Nodding in satisfaction, the younger Russian slowly moved to stand again, motioning for the other two to carefully follow her lead.
Slightly crouched, all three stopped their incline up the second their chin passed the upper horizon of the bush, their eyeline just high enough from the plant to allow for full view of the restaurant in front of them without obstructions.
Natasha wondered if her ridiculous hat actually blended in with the bush.
"What are we-"
"Shh."
If looks could kill, Yelena would be six feet under.
"Did you jus-"
"Shhhh"
Clenching her jaw, Natasha gritted her teeth.
"Would you please just-"
"Shhhhhhh!"
Taking in a deep breath, Natasha had to use all her willpower to resist the urge to hit her sister at that moment.
"Oh, fine."
Scanning the horizon and taking in the busy scene before her, Natasha wondered what exactly she was supposed to be seeing right now.
Then, her gaze landed on a familiar pair making their way into the restaurant.
I read The Lies We Tell and I loved it! The pain was just soooo well done, but now I have to admit that I'm all sad. Could I request maybe a little High School AU blurb where Wanda and Y/N aren't secretly dating? Just like a short snapchat of how they would be? This is no pressure and I'm sorry is this crosses any boundary. I love your work
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Blurb, High School AU
Warning/s: incomplete story
---
[First Day of School]
You ran into the halls of your high school, already ten minutes late to meeting Wanda. Muttering the occasional “excuse me” and “sorry” to the people around you, you wove your way through the crowd.
Spotting the familiar reddish-brunette hair of your girlfriend against your locker, a grin broke across your face.
“Wanda.” You called out, slightly out of breath from all the running.
Wanda's eyes rose to meet yours, and her beautiful smile matched yours in seconds.
Running to her, you swept her up into your arms, pulling her tight against you. “Ugh, I missed you so much.” You groaned into her hair, letting out a sigh of contentment.
“I missed you too, milyy.” She muttered against your shoulder. After not seeing her for the whole summer, your heart fluttered happily at having her back in your arms. Pulling back, you captured her lips into a sweet kiss.
“Break it up, you love birds.” A voice suddenly interrupted, and you rolled your eyes in greeting to Pietro. The other Maximoff only gave you a teasing smile, opening his arms for his own hug like the child he was. You reluctantly pulled away from the giggling Wanda to hug her brother, “What, don't I get a kiss too?” He asked with a pout as you pulled away.
You playfully pushed him with a chuckle.
Chuckling himself for a moment, Pietro then launched into a long recounting of everything he and Wanda had been up to throughout the summer - including, much to both you and Wanda's immediate disgust, a recitation of the long list of girls he had hooked up with over the break.
You were lucky Wanda was there with you. She made hearing about your best friend's tmi stories just a bit more tolerable.
Soon, the morning bell rang and the three of you made your way to homeroom.
///
Sliding in the desk next to Pietro like you always did, you conversed with your other friends, catching up on their summer.
Tony insisted on telling his stories first, loud, obnoxiously so as Wanda often described, and incredibly dramatic in every way; Steve was desperately trying to quiet the brunette down.
Natasha was sleeping in her desk two seats away from yours - or maybe she wasn't - the large sunglasses covering half her face either a new, bold fashion statement or a testament to a severe hangover from the night before; Clint was determined to find out which it was.
Wanda sat in your lap, fingers lazily running up and down the back of your neck as your hand rested atop her knees; Pietro pretended to gag at the casual affection between you and his sister.
You, for your part, just smiled, intently listening and watching everything around you while basking in the simple pleasure of being in your girlfriend's presence.
Everything felt so perfect at the moment that you wished you would've taken a photo then, capturing the calm before the storm.
But that was the thing about the calm - no one ever knew they were in it until the storm hits, and by then it is too late.
“Class we have a new student joining us.” Mr. Fury announced as the first bell rang, drawing everyone’s attention up to the front of the classroom. Wanda shifted in your lap, turning so that she could see the front of the room more comfortably, “His family just moved into down last week so he is a rather new addition to our school, but everyone, let's welcome Vision Jarvis.”
The new kid, Vision, awkwardly waved to everyone as sparse applause echoed off the otherwise silent room.
He was a tall teen, with a mop of untidy blonde hair atop his head and piercing blue eyes that made you strangely uncomfortable. Or maybe it was the way he was staring at you that made you shift in your seat, or the way his attention seemed so focused in your direction, or maybe, just maybe, it was the way that his gaze seemed to land on Wanda, still in you arms, and not move after.
