Welcome to my blog! Here you can access all my published work on Tumblr. You might wanna check my AO3 and Wattpad as well, I strongly recommend reading the series on AO3 because it's easier.
Who do I Write for?
This blog is dedicated to Wanda Maximoff and Elizabeth Olsen Characters. Also includes other female characters from Marvel such as Natasha Romanoff and Carol Danvers. On my secondary blog (MarySandBox) I write about other fandoms and characters that also contain reader inserts and/or couples.
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The site's default configuration does not allow viewing adult content, so it is possible that some works are not visible to all of you. I suggest checking AO3 or Wattpad if you don't want to change this setting on Tumblr (as the change will affect your entire dashboard for any flagged post). If possible, during reblogs, don't flag my work.
Request Status: Closed
Last update: 15-FEB-2025
TAG List: Not doing this in most of the posts because this site has too many bugs regarding it. Turn blog notifications on and/or follow the fics on AO3. Most of my posts in this are fics since I have a main, so don't worry.
AO3 | Spotify | *Wattpad
MarySandbox (Other Fandoms Blog) | Main
What happened to my Wattpad? I abandoned the site because my stories continue to be reported by bots and deleted by moderation, and it is very tiring work that exhausts my patience. The only reason for uploading to that site was to avoid plagiarism, but apparently, the moderation gave the reason to the plagiarists instead of the original creators, so I left the site. My fics will only be posted/updated on A03 and Tumblr.
A/N: Something short I felt possessed to write while working on my other my other WIPS
Thereâs a hand on your throat and an arm wrapped possessively around the front of your waist, pinning you to the lithe form creeping behind you. With unmistakable strength, the hand at your neck guides your chin out, bearing the column of your throat and the thick jugular vein that pumps adrenaline-soaked blood through your body. Warm breath slides across your shoulder and though youâre vulnerable and blind from this angle, you know that behind you lies a predator waiting to sink twin ivory needles into your flesh.
âWandaâŠâ The whisper falls from your lips like a prayer, breathy and filled with an ache thatâs bone deep. Her dark chuckle, mocking in its tone, sends goosebumps rippling across your skin.
âEasy now, pretty girl. Just one bite?â You can sense the curl of her lips, the amusement on her face as she toys with you. Sheâs always had a habit of playing with her food.
A whimper escapes the back of your throat the moment her elongated canines slice through your skin, plump lips wrapping around your neck as she swallows down thick gulps of your blood. A heavenly moan reverberates the second a drop of that rich metallic liquid settles on her tongue, the sound lighting your insides on fire more than the euphoria that accompanies the bite.
Itâs impossible not to squirm, some long dead survival instinct screaming at you to resist, but whether your struggle has anything to do with your willingness to submit matters not underneath such unyielding power and strength.
âFucking delicious.â It rushes out of Wanda like a declaration, the thick muscle of her tongue lapping at the droplets of crimson that dribble past the initial puncture wound. Still it seems like hours have passed before she finally detaches from your neck.
Your head lulls onto her shoulder, heavy like it's been filled to the brim with bricks. Thereâs sweat on your brow and a shallowness to your cheeks, eyes fluttering to stay open as a wave of exhaustion hits you.
Wanda cradles your body like it's made of glass, something precious and delicate, âHush Malyshka, Iâve got you.â
Itâs hard to form words, but a soft whimper escapes as you roll your head to the side, your nose buried in her neck, drunk on her vanilla-like scent.
âYou did so well for me.â Her voice accompanies your slow descent into sleep, rich and warm, dripping with a satisfaction that only comes from having her fill of you.
I just read "Room Neighbors", and i REALLY loved it, such an amazing storyđđ»đđ» you are 1 of my fav authors on tumblr (and wattpad) and i really love all your stories, especially the 2 "Skam" stories, and you really didn't dissapoint with this story either. Something that sucks, is that I accidentally went from reading chapter 3, skipped chapter 4 and then read chapter 5, i got so annoyed at myself when I noticed, and had to go backđđđ
I look forward to your future work, when you some time get less busy with work, and im very interested in Wednesday stories.
Have a good day/night :)
heey sweetheart thanks for letting me know that, I'm glad you liked my work đđ also I do masterlists for each series I write so that could help you find the right chapter (I also just remember I forgot to update room neighbors to AO3 đ)
I can't wait to write Wednesday stories really, I'll probably post them on my secondary blog @marysandbox
today I'm sleepy đŽ I miss writing but I'm working waaay to much and I haven't been able to write a single word in weeks because I'm that tired. Also, I really want to write original stuff, other than fanfiction nowadays. With so many authors being proven to be awful people, my ego just told me "hey if those terrible jerks are creating amazing fictional words but you could do it as well" but yk I've been way to tired and busy for that. Maybe one day.
Alsoo, I really want to write wenclair fanfiction đ I adore them, but I'm so used to reader insert that whenever I'm thinking of a plot I just keep adding y/n to it, maybe I'll try some original characters so I can keep the story going, I think there's a lack of Addams oc's or just ocs in Addams family fanfiction in general.
oh if this is about my last series sorry I don't think I will continue room neighbors for now, I like the "open ending" that just allows the story to breathe in possibilities there, as if it was a sitcom.
heyyy i just wanted to say that youâre one of the first writer that iâve start following on here a few years ago and you never failed to make me LOVE every story that you published. You always have so much good plot and your way of writing it is just so good to read. You always describe everything so well and i really enjoy reading everything you do
btw i love the first couple fight in the last chapter omg the domestic side is always my fav
I hope this gets to you because my asks have been acting weird.
this might be a little awkward, but iâve wanted to say it for a long time.
your writing has been with me through some genuinely traumatic points in my life. Thank you. Like genuinely. I've keep found myself coming back to your fics over the years, just because the writing is so solid and familiar and good. it feels immediately immersive and cozy in a certain way.
One of my many favorites and the one I come back to the most is "the one where you punch tony stark" it's honestly a comfort pocket world for me, but honestly all of your writing has meant a lot to me.Â
I don't mean to be intrusive in any way so feel free to say no (I honestly just wanted to let you know the impact you've had on a random 19-21y old girl at the time) But I wanted to ask if you have anything that isnât wanda or natasha related. i love those stories , but i tend to emotionally tie things to memories and sometimes re-reading those can remind me of what I was escaping from, and sometimes iâm looking for a more risk-free way to keep reading whatever else you would enjoy writing.
thank you for sharing what youâve already shared. never stop writing please whatever or wherever it may be. it mattered more than i can probably articulate properly, but i wanted you to know.
I used here because your DMS are closed but If you ever want to reach out and let me know please respond privately on my account đ„° thanks for everything
-cuddleghostxo
đ€
wow... I'm shy now haha
I do have another blog @marysandbox for non marvel works but I confess I haven't write much there đ let's dream about the day I'll write original stuff other than fanfiction as well (maybe when capitalism stops killing artists).
Thanks for your kind words my friend, I'm glad to know my fanfiction were so appreciated â€ïž
Summary: After losing Vision once again, falling in love with you seems like the scariest thing Wanda has ever had to do. However, when the words are not reciprocated, your insecurities make it impossible for you not to confront her. (Requested)
Word count: 1094 || Pronouns: not used
Warnings: none
A/N: And look who's back! Again! I wouldn't count on me not disappearing again though Well, a lot has happened, but what matters is that I've finally come to terms with posting here again. I'm just a little short on ideas, though, hahaha but anyway, I hope you like it!Â
You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)
Masterlist | Library Blog
âââââ â âź â âââââ
The last few months have felt like a quiet hell at the Avengers compound.
After you learned what happened in Westview, you and Natasha took an abrupt break from the mission you were working on and went to the rescue of the Scarlet Witch.
Wanda was a mess, even worse than the last time you saw her. So you dealt with the military who were trying to capture her and took her to a safe place, a place that, many years ago, had been home to all of you.
You and Natasha provided support in your own ways. Natasha was more assertive and practical. She made sure Wanda was always fed and hydrated, and kept track of the other redhead's appointments with the therapist she had found for her through some friends.
You, on the other hand, offered the Scarlet Witch the emotional support she had never had before. You donât try to fix Wanda. You donât ask her to talk when her eyes glaze over or when her hands tremble faintly around a mug of tea. You just stay. You sit beside her on the couch when grief makes her curl inward. You walk with her through the compound gardens when being indoors feels suffocating.Â
You fit into that routine gently. And somewhere along the way, you end up falling in love.Â
Wanda never pulls away when you touch her. Never flinches when your fingers brush hers. At night, she lets you hold her like an anchor, her forehead pressed to your collarbone, breath slow and uneven like sheâs afraid of dreaming. She kisses you softly, reverently, as if love is something fragile that might shatter if handled wrong.
It's you who says it first. The words had slipped out the first time on a lazy afternoon, sunlight spilling through the windows, Wanda half-asleep against your shoulder. You donât even realize what youâve said until the silence stretches too long. She doesnât respond. Instead, she just tightens her grip on you slightly.
You tell yourself itâs enough. After all, sheâs been through hell. She needs time. Nevertheless, every time you say it after that, something in your chest aches when she doesnât. Until you reach a point where you can't take it anymore.
Today is a cold Wednesday like any other in October. Wanda is in the kitchen, leaning against the counter while the kettle heats, her sleeves pushed up, red magic flickering faintly around her fingers like a nervous habit. Natasha passed through minutes ago, exchanged a few unimportant conversations before leaving, saying she needed to call Yelena and check how things were going.
You show up not long after that, but before Wanda can offer you a cup of tea, you're grabbing your jacket from the coat rack. âHey, honey, I'm going out for a walk, okay?â I let her know, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek before heading to the door, âI love you!â
âTake care!â You stop on your tracks at her response and Wanda immediately notices the change in the atmosphere, frowning in confusion. âWhat's wrong?â
âI love you.â You try again turing back to face her with a knowing look. âI know.â She answers with a chuckle, averting her gaze from yours and focusing on the tea in her hand, using her powers to make the spoon stir the hot liquid inside the mug.Â
âWhy don't you say it back?â You question, hurt lacing your tone. Before you know it, your feelings build up inside of you like a crashing wave, stopping you from holding back your next words. âHonestly, Wanda, ever since the first time I said it, I've accepted your silence. Because I figured you just weren't ready to say it back. But I don't know, every time you leave me hanging I wonder if you just don't really feel the same way.â
âI do!â She hits back, her eyes pleading, but you shake your head, huffing heavily. âThen why don't you say it back?!â
âBecause I can't lose you too!â She shouts, taking you by surprise. âEveryone I love dies. Everyone. There hasn't been a single exception to that pattern.â There is a brief moment of silence after that, but the tears streaming down her cheeks leave you too stunned to speak, so she sighs heavily, wiping her eyes with the hem of her shirt. âI tried so hard not to feel what I feel for you, Y/n. The fear of getting hurt again was... too much. But not falling in love with you was inevitable, and I blame you for that. Still, saying those words out loud is scary because it feels like you'll disappear the moment I say them.â
âI won't.â You finally speak, moving closer to her and wrapping your arms around her in an attempt to reassure her. However, all she does is offer you a sad smile, the lifting of her cheeks making a few more tears fall.
âIt seems that way⊠And no matter how hard I try, I just... It's too scary.â She confesses in a shaky voice, resting her forehead on yours with your eyes closed. You mimic her action, swallowing the lump in your own throat. âI'm sorry, Y/n, for not being able to tell you how I feel about you. But know that I... Do. I really do. So much.â
âI'm sorry, love, for demanding that of you.â You apologize as well, leaning back just enough to gently brush a strand of hair from her face, a kind smile on your face. âI understand, okay? I understand, and I know how you feel. I just... Insecurity got the better of me, that's all.âÂ
âI'm sorry.â She repeats, her tone as sincere as you have ever heard. In response, you just nod lightly, closing the distance between the two of you with a gentle kiss. âWhat about we watch a movie together?â You invite when the kiss is over, making her frown. âI thought you were going for a walk.â
âI can do that another time.â You say with a shrug of your shoulders, winning you a sweet, grateful smile from the redhead.
In response, Wanda intertwines her fingers with yours, guiding you to the TV room. For the rest of the day, you lie cuddled on the couch, her hand on the back of your neck, running her fingers through your hair.
She doesn't say the words, not yet. But her breathing is in sync with yours, and her lips often find yours during the movie.
And for now, thatâs enough.
âââââ â âź â âââââ
And that's it for today! I hope you enjoyed it, thoughts and comments are always welcome ă
Room Neighbors - Chapter Nine - Wanda Maximoff Series
series summary: A flood at the Nexus frat house requires its members to be relocated across all shared apartments of NYU. You and your roommates have a quiet routine, but everything is turned upside down when new students move in.
chapter summary: the car wash for fundraising, the nexus building is finally getting fixed.
warnings: (+18) semi-public smut (things get handy in a car wash), kissing, college drama.
a/n> so this was the nine chapters i had ready for this fic (i finished them about three years ago) and now i'll try to work on an epilogue. i hope you all liked this story so far :)
General Masterlist | AO3 | Series Masterlist
-x-
A heat wave had pushed much of the university outdoors.
You would have loved to spend the day hanging out with the girls - especially your girlfriend - maybe wandering through the local market or just relaxing. But after months of living, theoretically, as guests, most of the Nexus crowd was eager to seize any opportunity to raise funds.
Mrs. Harkness seemed more willing to make deals lately. Wanda had explained that the pressure from investors - who also happened to be the fathers, mothers, and caretakers of many Nexus students - was mounting. They were unhappy with the delays in fixing the buildingâs plumbing. Though Mrs. Harkness had grown somewhat flexible, accepting alternative fundraising methods, she still insisted that everything had to happen on school grounds. She justified that direct private donations from families would be inappropriate and inadequate since the rest of the campus wouldnât benefit.
So it was decided: the students would raise the extra money needed to keep the Fraternityâs work going - and thatâs how you found yourself dragged to a car wash on a scorching Saturday morning.
Technically, you didnât have to work. But it was kind of fun to be around your gorgeous girlfriend - someone you were genuinely happy to have close by. Wanda seemed to enjoy showing you off to all her former Nexus colleagues, her pride making you blush more than once.
Adding to the surrealness was the fact that the young people supervising your work - like your former supervisor, Lena Luthor - were basically Wandaâs rich, well-connected friends.
âItâs nice your brother decided to help out, Lena,â Wanda commented beside you as the two of you filled bucket after bucket with water to carry back to the makeshift warehouse.
The university parking lot was packed with students and cars, while a few professors who were supposed to supervise lingered instead by cold drinks and barbecues. At least three speakers blasted music across the area. Wanda had just handed you another bucket and nodded toward a nearby group where Lex Luthor was busy changing a tire.
Lena - the youngest of the Luthor siblings, her hair pulled back into a bun that made her delicate collarbone more visible and had once made Kara Danvers stumble over her words - didnât smile as she replied, âHe was more like⊠compelled to be here. Mom told him to keep an eye on me, you know? As if Iâm some child.â
âGod, I know that feeling. My dad does the same,â Wanda grumbled, and surprisingly, that sparked a bond between her and Lena. They launched into a long, conspiratorial conversation about controlling parents, leaving you to excuse yourself to haul more buckets - full ones back in, empty ones out.
While Wanda was busy venting with Lena, you helped Kate and Maria wash cars. It was actually fun - until you spotted the driver of a sleek sports car heading toward your station.
Vision gave you a polite nod as he parked, but the boys with him werenât so friendly. One of them, with shoulder-length black hair, pushed it back behind his glasses and snapped his fingers at you like you were a dog.
âHey, cutie, howâre you?â His tone made it clear he wasnât asking. He jumped out of the car with the door still closed behind him, clearly not caring about your answer. âTake good care of my friendâs car, yeah? Not like you could afford to fix it if you scratch it.â His taunt earned laughter from the others.
Steve, who was helping at your station, grimaced and stepped forward with a rag - but the boy blocked him with a smirk.
âHey, let the girls do their work,â Steve said evenly. âNobody wants a bunch of shirtless wet guys strutting around here. By the way, Vis, whereâs your girl? Maximoff and those legs are worth the price of the wash - and then some.â
Maybe Steve sensed you were two seconds away from throwing the bucket in the guyâs face. Maybe thatâs why he stepped in first.
âThe ticketâs for a car wash, not a license to harass people, asshole,â he said, jaw tight.
The guy - shoulder-length hair, smug attitude, and glasses he probably wore for style - chuckled and gave Steve a slow once-over. Then, likely realizing the size difference between his head and Steve Rogersâ bicep, he took a step back.
âRelax, man. Weâre just messing around.â He raised both hands in mock surrender. âIâm Victor Von Doom, by the way. Youâre Steve Rogers, right? Captain of the football team?â
âThe very same,â Steve replied with no warmth at all. âAnd this is - â
âOh, we know exactly who she is,â Victor interrupted, eyes sliding back to you with a smirk. âNow that youâve got the girl, Murdock, whatâs next? Gonna steal his car, too? Hide your keys, Vis.â
That earned more laughter from the group. Steve sighed and glanced at you, clearly giving you silent permission to throw hands if you wanted. Honestly, he looked like heâd back you up.
But instead, you smiled - tight and fake - and turned to pass your bucket to the next person in line.
âIâm taking a break, Rogers. Can you finish up here?â
âYeah,â he said immediately, tone making it clear he supported your exit strategy.
You walked off without another word, heading back inside where Wanda was now helping at the cashierâs table. She lit up when she saw you.
âHey, detka, lunch in twenty?â she asked.
You didnât answer right away. Instead, you stepped behind her chair, placed your hand gently on the backrest, and leaned down - then kissed her full on the mouth.
Wanda gasped as your tongue found hers - a kiss far more heated than she expected in public, much less at a school fundraiser. Her hand flew up to grab your collar, but before she could pull you closer, you were already pulling away.
She was left panting, flushed, blinking up at you with wide eyes.
âLunch sounds perfect,â you said casually, flashing her a wink as you stood straight again. âSee you in twenty.â
You strolled off with the confidence of someone who had just set a record for boldest PDA on campus. Wanda, still catching her breath, didnât even notice the shocked expressions across the courtyard from Vis and his friend - or the way Steve Rogers tipped his head at you in amused, almost impressed acknowledgment.
-&-
Generally, Wanda had nothing against public displays of affection. In fact, she used to enjoy the attention - loved showing off. Back then, everything was about appearances. It mattered that people saw how wealthy and charming Vision was, how perfect he made her life seem. Even if it wasnât true.
She used to smile through his distant hugs, nod along when he spoke over her, pretend she was happy in his cold, calculated orbit - until she finally learned why it all felt wrong.
Now, there was you.
And you were warmth, and ease, and sincerity. Wanda didnât feel the need to prove anything anymore. If she could, sheâd keep you all to herself - hide you from the world like her most precious secret. There was also the physical part: the attraction she felt for you hit her like nothing ever had. It made her dizzy. It made her crave.
She loved the way you touched her when you were alone, but when you got handsy in public - like now - Wanda completely lost her ability to focus. You werenât usually this clingy, especially in front of others, but in the past thirty minutes, you hadnât left her side once. And your hands? Constant.
Not that she was complaining. It was just... hard to count change when your hand was on her thigh, squeezing softly.
Wanda fumbled the cash for the fourth time in a row. The man she handed it to walked away looking far too pleased with himself.
âWanda,â Jean called out, exasperated. âFor the love of God - did you even charge that guy?â
Wanda jumped slightly, cheeks flushed. Your hand had just moved up two inches.
âUm... I - no idea,â she muttered, voice unsteady, trying not to breathe too deeply.
Jean rolled her eyes. âThatâs it. You two are officially banned from the cashier. Back to the wash.â She pointed a pen at you, all authority.
You laughed beside Wanda and raised both hands in surrender. âYes, boss.â
You stood, still grinning, but didnât leave until Wanda got up, too. She tried to ask for another break, hopeful, but Jean shot her down immediately.
âYou just had one. Keep this up and the fundraiserâs not happening until next year.â
Defeated but smiling, Wanda followed you back to the wash area.
You seemed dead set on turning her into a puddle. Whispering flirtatious nonsense in her ear, spinning her playfully under the sun, pressing your body to hers at every opportunity. Wanda tried to resist, but there was only so much a girl could take. She kissed you back like you were the only thing holding her together.
âPlease,â Natasha called as she walked by, deadpan, âno making out on top of the clientâs car.â
You didnât stop. If anything, the kiss deepened.
Natasha rolled her eyes and raised the hose.
A second later, you both shrieked, laughing as water sprayed your backs. Wanda ducked behind you, using your body as a shield, and you twisted away to grab the nearest hose. In seconds, it was a full-blown war. The fundraiser was forgotten. Everyone was wet and howling with laughter.
At some point, you caught Wandaâs hand and tugged her inside, away from the chaos. Her laughter was still bubbling when you kissed her again - deep, slow, all heat. She sighed, clutching your shoulders to steady herself, heart pounding.
The music was loud. The water war raged on. But all Wanda could think about was how your lips moved down her jaw and onto her neck.
She bit her lip, trying to suppress a noise, just in case some teacher or nosy student walked by. The thrill of maybe being caught only made it worse - more intense.
Between kisses, you whispered near her ear, voice low and breathy, âI have a confession to make.â
Wanda could only hum, eyes still shut, dizzy with the feel of you.
Your lips brushed behind her ear, and she shivered. But when you pulled back to look at her, your expression had softened. The teasing grin remained - but beneath it, something tender bloomed.
âI saw your ex outside,â you said, voice calm but unexpected enough to make Wanda frown, confusion flickering in her eyes. Before she could respond, you reached up and gently tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, letting your fingers linger there for a beat.
âHe was being a jerk, as usual,â you added honestly. âAnd... I got super jealous.â
The admission surprised her - not because of what you said, but because of how vulnerable you sounded. There was no bitterness in your voice, just honesty.
You sighed, your lips curling into a faint, almost sheepish smile. âIt was silly, I know. I wanted to show him how happy I make you. But the truth is, I donât care what he thinks. Or anyone else, really. Only you matter to me.â
Your smile grew a little more playful as you added, âAnd seeing the top student in Statistics fumble the change just because Iâm touching her? Thatâs all the reassurance I need.â
Wanda giggled despite herself, then gave you a light nudge in the ribs, her smile matching yours - even if her cheeks were a little pink.
"You're lucky I lo-like you⊠so much," Wanda murmured, stumbling over the word and blushing furiously beneath your gaze. Her breath hitched as she let the words settle between you.
You smiled - soft, sure, completely unfazed by the stumble. She didnât have to say it. You already knew.
âOh, lucky me indeed,â you teased back, voice low and flirtatious, your lips just a breath from hers. You leaned in, close enough that Wanda leaned forward instinctively⊠waiting for the kiss that didnât come.
Her anticipation built with every second, her pulse fluttering as your fingers trailed down, sneaking under the hem of her skirt with practiced ease. When your hand brushed over her panties, she gasped, her lips brushing yours in a near-kiss.
âWhat made you this wet, babe?â you whispered against her mouth, your tone playful and dark. âWas it the game... or was it me?â
Wanda didnât answer. She didnât need to. Instead, she surged forward and kissed you - hungry, impatient, and commanding, as if to remind you exactly who had her like this.
You grunt softly into her mouth, deepening the kiss just as your fingers slip past the fabric and sink into her warmth. Wanda melts against you, a moan spilling from her lips as her hands clutch your shoulders for balance, her body already threatening to collapse from the intensity of it all.
The kiss becomes a tangle of tongues and soft, desperate sounds. The slick echo of her arousal fills the small space around you, heightening the heat between every breath.
Sheâs close - too quickly, too easily - and part of her wants to be embarrassed. But the pink flush dusting her cheeks only makes your grin grow. You can feel her walls fluttering around your fingers already, her thighs trembling. Wanda pants against your lips, struggling to keep up, and you canât help but sigh softly at how undone she looks⊠and youâve barely begun.
"You're close, aren't you, babe?" you murmur, planting a kiss on her cheek as your hand steadies her by the waist. She shudders in response, knees buckling, and can only manage a breathy moan.
With a flick of your wrist, your thumb finds her clit - still untouched, still aching - and you press against it just right. Her head drops instantly, forehead landing in the crook of your neck as her nails dig into your skin. Her moans change - higher, needier, almost pleading. Sheâs bracing herself for you to pull back, to tease her as youâve done before.
But you donât.
You quicken your pace, fingers moving in a rhythm thatâs both skilled and merciless. Wanda gasps, and then sheâs gone - her pleasure spilling onto your wrist, her body convulsing as she cries out your name in a voice thatâs nearly primal.
"Yes, yes, yes!"
When it finally hits her, it's breathtaking. The sound that escapes Wanda is raw and unrestrained - almost feral - and it reverberates through you like a strike to the core. For a moment, youâre left speechless, utterly captivated by the way she trembles in your arms, every part of her unraveling under your touch.
She lets out a breathless laugh, the sound dazed and delighted. Her pupils are blown wide, consuming every trace of green in her eyes until theyâre nearly black.
âHi,â she whispers, dreamy and half-drunk on pleasure.
Your heart stutters. There are three words burning at the tip of your tongue, aching to be spoken, but you swallow them down for now. Instead, you grin softly and echo, âHi.â
Your fingers slip from her slowly, deliberately, and the quiet sigh that escapes her doesn't go unnoticed. Her slick clings to your skin, and you wipe it gently on her inner thighs, stealing a quick glance at her flushed face as you lick your lips. You're trying - failing - not to be so affected.
A quiet stillness settles between you. The world narrows to the space you share, to the gentle weight of her gaze and the things neither of you are quite ready to say aloud.
You exhale shakily and lean forward, resting your forehead against hers. The silence speaks for you both. And then - itâs Wanda who closes the distance, lips brushing yours with the tenderness of something real.
Thereâs a clumsy tangle of hands and clothes as the kiss deepens again, heat flaring back to life between you. Wandaâs fingers are just beginning to wander, sliding lower with unmistakable intent -Â
But then footsteps echo nearby.
And a familiar, mocking voice cuts through the haze:
"You two better not be using break time to make out!"
The sudden interruption makes both you and Wanda break into startled laughter, the intimacy shattered in an instant. Your hidden alcove - just barely secluded enough to pass as private - offers no real cover now that Jeanâs found you. She stands a few feet away, arms crossed and an exaggerated look of disbelief on her face.
"Weâre short-staffed, you know. Get decent and get back to work," she groans, clearly unimpressed but not entirely surprised.
You're the first to peel yourself off the wall, still catching your breath, and flash Jean a cheeky smile.
"I'm decent, jerk."
Jean raises an eyebrow.
You gesture toward Wanda, who's still catching her composure. "But I donât think Wandâs feeling so well. Maybe we should go home, for⊠recovery purposes?" you add with faux sincerity, barely suppressing your grin.
Still hidden from Jeanâs view, Wanda bites her lip, stifling a sigh as your hand wanders teasingly beneath her blouse.
Jean rolls her eyes with theatrical impatience. âNice try. Get back to work before the dean gets an anonymous tip about your favorite hook-up spot,â she warns before turning on her heel.
You burst into laughter. âYouâre a menace, Jean Grey!â you call after her, only to be answered by a casually raised middle finger as she walks away.
Your attention shifts back to Wanda, who's quietly giggling at the exchange, though her flushed cheeks betray her lingering fluster.
âWe really do have to get back to work, dear,â you murmur, noses brushing in a soft, affectionate nuzzle.
Wanda cups your face, pulling you into a kiss - gentle, slow, the kind that says everything without a single word. You smile against her lips.
Best car wash ever.
-&-
The news that the Nexus building repairs were nearing completion shouldnât have surprised you. Between the constant complaints from students longing for their luxurious rooms and wild, unsupervised parties, the pressure from wealthy families demanding the return of exclusivity, and the relentless fundraisers, it was inevitable that the renovation would happen sooner or later. Still, the announcement didnât land with the excitement the College Council had clearly expected.
Wanda - and the rest of the sorority staff - had adapted to the roommate routine so seamlessly that the thought of returning to the old building felt less like a celebration and more like the end of something quietly special.
In just a few weeks, Wanda would move back into the gleaming, renovated sorority house. And you⊠you'd return to your single room.
Once, that wouldâve been the best possible outcome. Months ago, before you fell in love with her.
Now, it felt like stepping into an entirely different reality.
And you werenât the only one who felt that way. Wanda hadnât smiled at the news either.
"Obviously, Lucky is coming to live with me," Kate declared, making a dramatic gesture from the middle of the room. She was facing Yelena, who raised an eyebrow in pure disbelief.
"He's our dog," Yelena corrected firmly. "Just like Fanny. They're family, Kate! You canât just split them up!"
From the couch, Natasha let out a long, weary sigh. The âdivision of assetsâ conversation had now entered its sixth day, ever since the announcement that the Nexus buildingâs plumbing would be repaired. As far as Nat and Maria were concerned, everything had already been settled rationally and peacefully. Hill would take most of the records, DVDs, and knick-knacks back to Nexus, since the equipment there was better and the rooms were larger. No drama.
But Kate and Yelena were a different story. Every shared item - down to spare dog toys - became the center of a full-blown debate. It was clear to everyone that the bickering wasnât really about the stuff. They just didnât want to part ways. That much was obvious. Still, it wasnât anyoneâs place to interfere. So watching the two argue had become its own kind of entertainment.
While Natâs patience wore thin, you and Wanda - who was curled up in your lap as you casually braided her hair, couldnât stop laughing.
"For Godâs sake, Iâm not splitting them up!" Kate exclaimed, just as indignantly as Yelena. "Iâm literally staying on the same campus!"
Yelena crossed her arms. "Iâm not subjecting my dogs to the trauma of divorce, Kate Bishop. Iâm afraid you canât take any of them."
âYelena, for Godâs sake - â
Eventually, Natasha stepped in and separated them, assigning each to a different side of the apartment to pack moving boxes or - honestly, youâd stopped paying attention by then. You were too caught up in a quiet conversation with Wanda.
She had just mentioned wanting to have lunch with you, and though she didnât say it outright, the subtext was clear: you needed to talk about the move. As soon as you finished braiding a loose strand of her hair, the two of you slipped out of the living room.
Seeking a little privacy, you brought your lunch to the sunlit balcony table. While you arranged the plates, Wanda slid the door closed behind you, muffling the sounds of the chaos still unfolding inside.
âThis reminds me of our first date,â she said suddenly, settling into the chair across from you.
You smiled at the thought. âSometimes it feels surreal how far weâve come.â
Wanda giggled softly, a fond sparkle in her eyes. âIt was surreal how much we fought. I still canât believe you kissed me after stealing my mug.â
You laughed, the memory warm and clear. âI didnât steal anything! I borrowed it - without asking.â
Lunch stretches on like this for minutes - filled with laughter and nostalgic jokes. The day is perfect: sunny but pleasantly mild. The closed glass door muffles the noise from inside, where you can faintly hear Kate and Yelena tussling on the carpet over band T-shirts theyâd bought together at the last concert. You and Wanda exchange quiet giggles at the scene, until a soft sigh escapes you.
âDamn, Iâm really going to miss those girls,â you say.
Wanda bites her lip thoughtfully, her gaze locking on yours. âWhat about me, darling? Will you miss me?â she teases.
You hum, pretending to ponder. âWell⊠Iâll finally have my room back...â you begin.
Wanda snorts, feigning offense, and reaches out to pinch your ribs, making you burst into laughter. Before she can pull away, you catch her hand and weave your fingers through hers in your lap.
âOf course Iâm going to miss you, princess. Youâre right here now, and I already think youâre too far away.â
A soft blush colors her cheeks, and Wanda holds onto your hand as she rises. âWell, letâs fix that,â she whispers, sliding onto your lap. Her hands find their way around your shoulders as your arm wraps around her waist.
âHi,â she murmurs.
âHello, you,â you reply.
She looks down at you, a storm of emotions hidden in her eyes. You swallow the tension and smile gently, offering silent reassurance.
âWeâll be fine, Wanda,â you assure her softly. âYouâll be just half a campus away. Nothingâs really going to change.â
But you both know the truth - this move pulls Wanda back into a world youâre no longer part of. Still, for now, she chooses to believe your words. She smiles gently, resting her forehead against yours, savoring the closeness in that quiet moment.
Sheâs about to say something thatâs been weighing on her heart for a while when a sharp knock on the glass makes her startle softly.
âHey, lovebirds, we need some help here,â Maria calls from inside. Apparently, Yelena had bolted from the apartment clutching a record signed by Don McLean that belonged to Kate.
You and Wanda share a confused laugh.
âBack to the kids, I guess,â Wanda sighs with a smile. You gently pat her thigh, signaling for her to stand, but she only moves after you lean in and press a tender kiss to her lips.
Room Neighbors - Chapter Eight - Wanda Maximoff Series
series summary: A flood at the Nexus frat house requires its members to be relocated across all shared apartments of NYU. You and your roommates have a quiet routine, but everything is turned upside down when new students move in.
chapter summary: the aftermath of the trip.
warnings: some angst but then healthy communication (i know, shocking, right?), avengers still quite chaotic in this.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Series Masterlist
-x-
This had to be the most embarrassing moment of her life.
Caught having sex with her girlfriend by the one man she wasnât yet comfortable discussing any kind of sexuality with - on what should have been a perfect weekend. Wanda and her damn luck.
Despite everything, you seemed to handle it better than she was. Or maybe you were just better at faking it, skillfully distracting yourself with packing and preparing an afternoon snack to avoid the awkward scene. Wanda wanted to tell you sheâd feel better if you stayed by her side, but her attention was pulled instead by the bigger question: What the hell was her father doing here?
âNo need to keep that face. Iâm not mad or anything.â
Erikâs voice was calm, accompanied by a small chuckle as he leaned casually against the porch railing.
He had excused himself shortly after a brief, polite introduction: a few exchanged words about names, professions, studies. Then he said he had to make a phone call, leaving you in the kitchen.
Wanda had wanted to follow but caught your warning glance - âI can run away because heâs not my dad, but you shouldnât.â Resigned, she turned away and headed outside.
With a sigh, she approached him. âWhat did you come here for anyway?â
Erik laughed again softly. âThis house is mine, Wanda.â
She rolled her eyes impatiently. âDad.â
Instead of responding right away, Erik sighed and turned to look out over the landscape, his elbows resting on the railing. Wanda mirrored him in silence.
âCharles and I are taking a break.â
The words hit Wanda like a punch. She stared, stunned. Erik didnât meet her eyes, a faint, sad smile playing on his lips.
âI havenât said anything to you or your brother because itâs not childrenâs business.â
âWeâre not - â
âI know,â he cut in gently. âBut to me, you will always be.â
Wanda exhaled softly at her fatherâs weary posture and didnât press further.
After a long pause, Erik spoke again, as if gathering courage. âItâs only for a while, dear. Retirement forced us back into a closeness we werenât used to. Old conflicts resurfaced. Charles and I decided some time apart would be best - but thatâs our business. I didnât want to burden you or Pietro unnecessarily.â
Wanda bit her cheek, steeling herself. âYou can tell me whatâs bothering you, Papa. You donât have to keep everything inside.â
Erik chuckled briefly, nodding as he turned toward her.
âI know. But thatâs funny coming from you, donât you think, young lady?â His eyebrow rose. âFor example, you never mentioned youâd be bringing girls here. Especially here, Wanda.â
It shouldnât have surprised her how easily her father could deflate tender moments - they always ended like this - but still, Wanda huffed in irritation.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
Erik shrugged and glanced inside the house as if checking if you were still nearby. Then he leaned in, voice dropping.
âSheâs a pretty girl, sure. And your brother likes to impress his flirts too. But here, Wanda? This was your motherâs house. A place we respect because itâs special.â
âSheâs special, Dad.â Wanda cut in indignantly. âSheâs my girlfriend.â
Erikâs chuckle was soft, surprised. âOh, girlfriend? Really, Wanda?â
She crossed her arms defensively, trying to hold back her frustration. âYes. Girlfriend. Do you have a problem with that? Iâd say itâd be pretty hypocritical of you, considering youâve been married to a man for ten years.â
Erik rolled his eyes, the laugh that escaped feeling anything but genuine.
âObviously, Iâm not homophobic, Wanda. Donât be ridiculous.â Erikâs tone sharpened, irritation barely contained. âIt just caught me off guard, considering the last relationship news you cared to share with your father was your breakup with Vision.â
âYeah, when he cheated on me - if you remember.â Wandaâs voice dripped with irony.
Erik rolled his eyes again, unimpressed.
âYouâre all too young. The boy made a mistake, but weâve been over this. Vision comes from a good family, with a solid future aheadâŠâ He spoke over her indignant snort. âAnd youâre about to graduate, Wanda. You need someone who can offer financial stability, a good life. Before you throw accusations, I had the same talk with Pietro. I donât mind his college adventures; we all had those, but choosing someone worthy to be by his side, be it a boy or a girl, is what matters.â
âMy god, do you even hear yourself?â Wanda snapped, voice sharp enough to startle him. He was more used to commanding respect than facing this kind of defiance.
âDoesnât it matter how much Vision hurt me? Is it just about the money his family has? What the fuck is your problem?â
âWanda, watch your tone. Iâm your father- â
âA father who only wants to control my life and never cares how I feel!â she cut him off, tears suddenly glistening in her eyes, raw with anger and pain. âI couldnât breathe around him! He crushed my wishes, my dreams! Made me feel worthless! And I wish youâd stood up for me, taken my side. But all you did was defend a stranger instead of your own daughter! Itâs because of you we donât talk anymore, Dad. I donât trust you at all!â
Erikâs posture softened, his usual sharpness fading as he absorbed her words in stunned silence. Wanda wiped her eyes quickly and let out a short, bitter laugh.
âHoney, IâŠâ he began, but trailed off with a frustrated sigh. Wanda nodded, understanding. You canât force an apology from someone who doesnât believe theyâre wrong.
âI donât want to talk to you right now.â She said firmly. âIâm going back to Uni - with my girlfriend, probably the best person Iâve ever been with, and you have no idea. Until you can apologize, you wonât know anything about me or my life again.â
Erik clenched his jaw, eyes flicking away. âIâm entitled to my opinions. Youâre young and privileged, and you donât understand how the real world works. But if you want to make mistakes, go ahead. Learn from the pain. Letâs see how long this crush lasts when reality hits.â
âThatâs none of your business anymore,â Wanda said coldly before turning her back and leaving the balcony.
Inside, you were still in the kitchen, coffee ready on a tray.
She swallowed the emotion and forced a smile when your eyes met hers.
âWeâre leaving.â She told you quietly, satisfied with your understanding nod, before heading upstairs to gather her bags.
But your mind didnât ease when Erik appeared at the doorway. You swallowed nervously, unsure how to break the silence.
He sighed, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Lighting one, he said quietly, âI just want you to know - I have nothing personal against you, Miss Murdock.â He says. âIâm a practical man. Iâve made many sacrifices so my children could have opportunities I didnât have at their age.â
You nod slowly, sliding your hands into your pockets.
âI really care about your daughter, sir. I have no intention of hurting her in any way.â
Erik chuckles shortly, taking a slow drag from his cigarette.
âIntentions donât mean much over time, youâll see. Feelings fade once the bills start coming in.â
You clear your throat, nervously scratching the back of your neck.
âI know I donât have your familyâs wealth, but I work hard. More than that, I care about Wandaâs well-being - more than anything.â
Erikâs eyes narrow slightly, voice hardening with a trace of defiance.
âAnd to be well, you need what, child? Money, of course. Do you think this incredible house - with the pool, the food - all of it was a gift? No, itâs paid for, and itâs expensive. But Wanda and Pietro? Theyâve been shielded from that reality. They think it just fell from the sky.â
He sighs, shaking his head bitterly.
âThatâs Natalyaâs doing. Their mother. I would have had them working for the company from the start, but she wanted them to be comfortable. And now? Look at how âgratefulâ they are - running around with the nobodies they meetâŠâ
Erik clears his throat when he notices your eyes drop in embarrassment, then exhales deeply.
âAgain, itâs nothing personal.â
You bite your lip, voice low and steady.
âI think youâve said enough, sir.â
Erik opens his mouth, but Wandaâs footsteps interrupt him as she reappears.
Her gaze immediately lands on you, tension in your posture, and then zeroes in on her father with a deadly glare.
âI better not find out you were harassing my girlfriend. Or I swear, we are done for good.â
You step forward quickly, placing a hand gently on Wandaâs arm before Erik can reply.
âHe was just saying goodbye, Wanda.â You lie again, the familiarity of the excuse gnawing at you.
She looks at you, uncertainty and concern flickering in her eyes, but you offer a reassuring smile.
âItâs fine.â Another lie. âLetâs just go.â
Wanda doesnât pull away when you take her hand, and together you step outside, leaving the tension inside the house behind.
-&-
Wanda couldnât shake the feeling that Erik had said something deeply wrong to you, but she only became certain as days passed and you didnât return to your usual self.
On paper, nothing had changed. You still shared the apartment, were still dating, and you still hugged her at night until she fell asleep.
But you were quieter. Distant. Busier than ever. Working overtime to avoid her was something she accepted - until every mention of the weekend made you tense, irritable, and closed off.
Wanda held on for two whole weeks before she hit her limit and issued an ultimatum.
The first real fight as a couple knocked her off balance.
âWhy wonât you just talk to me?â
âBecause youâre not talking - youâre screaming!â
âYeah, well, Iâm angry and tired of being ignored!â Wanda shouted back. âWhat crime is it to show any emotion to the person Iâm with?!â
Pressed against the door of Mariaâs room, four girls tried to give the arguing couple some privacy. But as the voices grew louder and more intense, they couldnât resist listening in.
âIâm afraid weâre going back to square one,â Yelena muttered, drawing a collective sigh of frustration from the others.
âDonât be so pessimistic. Couples fight,â Kate tried to reason.
Natasha, leaning on her sisterâs shoulder, raised a finger. âShush, Iâm trying to hear what theyâre saying.â
The room fell silent, and then your voice came first - lower, firmer.
âWanda, Iâm working late. Please step away from the door.â
âYou always have to work! When was the last time we spent any time together?â
âYeah, I have to work. That might be a difficult concept for someone like you, but itâs the reality for most people.â The sting in your words shut Wanda up immediately, and the girls exchanged uneasy glances. After a pause, you sighed. âIâm sorry. I shouldnât have said that - â
âJust go.â Wandaâs voice was cold, final. âDonât waste your valuable time on some futile rich girl.â
âWanda, for heavenâs sake, I didnât mean that - â
A heavy slam echoed as the door shut, and the girls assumed Wanda had stormed off to her room. A moment later, another door slammed shut, and silence fell. It was clear you hadnât followed her.
Kate broke the quiet. âI canât believe Y/N said that.â
Natasha shrugged, unfazed by the othersâ shocked looks. âI love Wanda, but Y/N wasnât lying.â
Kate frowned, uncertain.
Natasha met her gaze evenly. âKate, we love you too, but our realities are different. Sometimes you and Wanda say things that come from a place of privilege without realizing it. Even before Nexus crashed, when I went to those parties, it was insane to watch kids like Stark spend a whole yearâs tuition on one weekend.â
Yelena nodded. âYeah, and when we go shopping with you guys, it feels like a totally different world.â
Kate shifted awkwardly. âShit, I didnât mean to make this an embarrassing situation. Itâs not my fault Iâm rich.â
The girls giggled, and Yelena patted her shoulder. âWe know. Just like itâs not our fault we arenât.â
Natasha nodded, adding, âItâs not about blaming anyone. Itâs just the difference between our lives. Weâre all adults here; fighting over that would be pointless. But Y/N and Wanda are in a relationship, which is different. Theyâre going to get deeply involved in each otherâs lives, and they have to talk about these things. Like, what does Wanda plan to do after graduation? Have they even discussed where theyâll live? Whether Y/Nâs comfortable living somewhere paid for by her girlfriend? What life together really looks like.â
Maria snorted. âThatâs why we told them to have a proper conversation before dating. I donât want to switch rooms again.â
The girls laughed weakly until Kate spoke again.
âI hope they work it out soon. I donât want to lose the friendships weâve made here.â
âLetâs hope so,â Yelena said, but Natasha and Hill exchanged knowing glances.
âOr we could just lock them in a room tonight until they stop fighting,â Natasha joked, sending the group into laughter.
What started as a joke stuck with Natasha as the day wore on, filled with tense exchanges and passive-aggressive texts both in the apartment group and between the girls. By evening, she was seriously considering locking you and Wanda up until you worked it out.
To make matters worse, you didnât join the group for dinner, and Wanda seemed determined to avoid any conflict by staying away altogether. She didnât even return to the apartment - just said she was going to sleep over at Monicaâs.
Natasha was about to plan an intervention when, the next morning, she woke up to find you asleep in the hallway.
âHm, should I be worried?â she asked, stifling a grimace as she stumbled over your outstretched ankle on her way to the bathroom. You rubbed your eyes and adjusted the blanket draped over you.
âNo,â you murmured. âIâm waiting for Wanda to open the door.â
Natasha sighed, sympathy softening her voice. âHoney, she didnât sleep here.â
âShe said she was staying at Monicaâs,â she explained, but you frowned.
âMonicaâs not at uni,â you replied, grimacing. âShe went to her motherâs for the holiday. Wonât be back until next weekend.â
Natasha scratched the back of her neck, thinking. âMaybe sheâs with her brother?â
You were already pushing yourself up, pulling your phone out of your pocket and tossing the blanket onto an armchair as you took a determined step toward the living room.
The redhead watched quietly as you dialed Wandaâs number again and again, each time getting that same frustrated expression when the call went unanswered.
Clearing her throat, she caught up with you. âI donât mean to pry, Y/N, but for the sake of our coexistence as roommates, make things right.â
You let out a dry chuckle without looking up from your phone. âThanks for assuming everythingâs my fault.â
Natasha sighed. âI donât care whose fault it is.â Her tone grew firmer, undeterred by your continued dialing and likely sharp texts to Wanda. âWhat matters is that youâre my best friend, and youâre the one I talk to first. I warned you to be careful, to think before starting a relationship with the girl you share an apartment with. You listened more to your hormones than to me, so just... please fix this. And no more sleeping in the hallway, okay? Besides catching pneumonia, you couldâve tripped someone.â
She used your hesitation to slip away toward the kitchen to start coffee.
You tucked your phone away and followed her a moment later.
âYou know youâre wrong, donât you, Nat?â you said softly. She shot you a warning glance but didnât reply, focusing on the coffee. You found courage, sitting on the empty countertop. âYou talk like itâs just sex. Like Wanda and I are teenagers who canât keep our pants on. But I...â
You sighed, shutting yourself up. Natasha glanced over her shoulder, waiting. After a deep breath, you finally admitted, âI think I love her.â
Natasha turned away, a teasing smile lighting up her face. âYou think?â
You looked down, and she smiled wider.
âI know I do,â you muttered shyly. âBut I donât know how to do this.â
Amused, Natasha left the coffee on the sink, crossed her arms, and gave you a pointed look. âHm, donât you know how to love someone? Itâs easy. Itâs like riding a bike - starts with friendship...â
You cut her off with an awkward laugh. âShut up.â
She grinned at you, and you settled more comfortably on the countertop.
âHey. Whatâs all this then? You find out you love her and now youâre fighting her?â Natasha asked gently, concerned in her voice. âIs this some kind of intimacy crisis?â
You shook your head quickly. âNo, no, thatâs not it. It has nothing to do with my feelings.â Despite your shyness, you sounded determined to set the record straight. âThe weekend started out amazing, you know? I think Iâve known what I was feeling for a while, and spending some time alone with her just made me sure. Then her father showed up and started saying things - things that shouldnât bother me but somehow brought up insecurities I didnât even know I had.â
Natashaâs posture stiffened immediately. âWhat the hell did he say to you?â
You sighed, defeated. âIt was nothing,â you muttered, avoiding her insistent gaze. âJust stupid stuff. Elitist talk, okay? Nothing... nothing that should bother someone whoâs been studying political science since forever.â Your laugh was hollow, not reaching your eyes.
Natashaâs expression turned worried. You exhaled heavily. âWandaâs father just wants the best for his kids. He had to work so damn hard for everything he has. And sure, itâs a whole long conversation about privilege and opportunity, but thatâs what matters to him. I think Iâve heard my parents stress enough about jobs and money crises to get where heâs coming from.â
Natasha stepped closer, uncrossing her arms.
âWait, are you seriously telling me Mr. Lehnsherr thinks you canât date Wanda because youâre not rich like her?â she said, incredulous. âY/N, thatâs absurd. Itâs so old-fashioned and petty.â
You gave a sad smile and shrugged. âYeah, but he has a point, doesnât he?â you admitted, frustrated. âWandaâs used to a princess lifestyle. We even joke about it. But what happens in the future? Here at uni, itâs easy to ignore the differences between our lives. But if I want a future with her, I have to face the fact that there are things I wonât be able to keep up with.â
Natasha sighed thoughtfully but didnât seem fully convinced. âI get what you mean, but at the same time, Wanda has enough money for both of you.â
You laughed shortly and nodded. âShe does, but I could never depend on her. Not that thereâs anything wrong with that for people who donât mind, but itâs just not me. Iâd always feel like I was taking advantage of her... and I know sheâd hear cruel things from others, and Iâd feel even worse. Just like Mr. Lehnsherr fears, reality would hit us hard, and weâd end up resenting each other. I donât want that to ever happen.â
Natasha twitched her nose softly. âWell, in a way, itâll be like going back to the beginning...â she teased lightly. But when you laughed, it was the kind of laugh that felt like it might break into tears.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to hold yourself together. âIâm trying really hard right now, Nat,â you said quietly. âIâm exhausted. I took this job because of some silly insecurity. I thought Iâd work short hours and have time with my girlfriend, but what that idiot said got to me. I jumped on the first project that looked like it might change the world, hoping to get rich overnight, to be enough for Wanda... but Iâm just so tired.â
âOh, honey, come here,â Natasha said softly, moving around the countertop to wrap you in a warm hug. You buried your face in her sweatshirt, clutching her tightly. As you massaged her arms, Natasha sighed. âYou need to be honest with Wanda, Y/N. Or you two are going to get hurt. And by all thatâs sacred, get some sleep.â
You laughed through your tears, nodding.
Eventually, you left the kitchen to sleep while Natasha stayed behind to review some lessons and finish her coffee. The apartment filled and emptied with the coming and going of the girls and boys - everyone treating the place like their own home. Mugs gave way to soda glasses at lunch and afternoon snacks.
Wanda didnât come back until evening.
An exchange of encouraging glances passes between Natasha and you - now in the living room - while Yelena and Kate share looks filled with doubt and uncertainty, unsure whether to leave or stay and witness the inevitable confrontation.
Natasha finally clears her throat, deciding to break the silence, while Wanda takes much longer than necessary to remove her jacket and hang it by the door.
âThereâs some chicken in the oven, Wands. If youâre hungry,â Natasha offers from her seat at the table, laptop open in front of her.
Wanda feels your gaze burning into her back but keeps her attention fixed on the stubborn zipper. Her hands tremble too much to manage it smoothly.
âIâve already eaten, thank you,â she replies quietly, finally slipping out of the jacket.
Natasha hums understandingly and returns to her studies, while Yelena shoots a quick glance at you, her best friend.
âWhere were you all day anyway, Maximoff? Your literature teacher asked about you earlier,â the blonde comments casually.
You whip your head around, remote control forgotten in your hand.
âYou skipped Munroeâs class? You? Itâs literally your favorite class.â Your surprise and indignation only seem to make Wanda tense even more.
She inhales deeply, drops her purse by the door, and turns to leave the room without so much as a glance your way. You snort incredulously.
âWanda, really? Silent treatment? How old are you, five?â you squawk, jumping to your feet. The remote lands on the couch as you follow her, ignoring the girlsâ watching eyes.
âYeah, so Iâm a rich snob and a child. Great combo you got there,â she retorts wryly, attempting to close the door in your face, but your hand stops it.
âIâm pretty sure I said you were privileged, not a snob,â you snap, stepping inside and shutting the door with your ankle despite her annoyed grunt. âBut seriously, where the hell were you all day?â
âNone of your business - â
âWanda.â
âGet out of my room.â
âItâs our room.â
âI swear to God - â
Before you can continue, a knock interrupts. You sigh, staring at Wanda, then turn and open the door - bumping into Maria in pajamas.
âWeâre all studying for exams,â she says quietly, âCould you please keep the volume down? Or maybe take the fight outside?â
Wanda huffs behind you and immediately sits on the bed to angrily pull off her shoes. You offer Maria a corner smile - feeling better now that youâve slept properly.
âI promise weâll keep it down, Miss Hill,â you say with a teasing grin that makes Maria roll her eyes and chuckle. She raises a finger in warning before heading back to the table where the girls study together.
Closing the door, you turn to find Wanda barefoot, staring ahead, unfocused.
âHey... can we talk about this?â you ask, much softer and quieter, hands slipping into your pockets.
Wanda exhales shakily, eyes shimmering with tears she clearly refuses to let fall. Her jaw tightens as she looks away, like sheâs holding herself together by force alone.
âI feel horrible,â she chokes out.
You stay still, watching her closely, afraid that even the smallest movement might shatter whatever fragile balance sheâs clinging to. She swallows, then covers her face with her hands for a moment, fingers pressing against her temples as if the feeling is too much to contain.
âWhat are you doing to me?â she whispers, voice breaking. âIt feels like Iâm going to die, and all weâve done is fight about something that feels so vague now.â
You let out a quiet sigh - not in frustration, but in recognition. Slowly, carefully, you sit beside her on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, the space between you closing but still tentative, like neither of you is sure whatâs allowed yet.
âIt was our first fight as a couple,â you say softly. âItâs expected to feel awful.â
You manage a small, crooked smile. Wanda lets out a weak, breathy laugh in response, but it dissolves almost immediately. She sniffs, swiping hurriedly at the tears that escape before she can stop them, still avoiding your gaze.
âWanda, Iâm sorry,â you say, your voice low and sincere. âI never meant to hurt you.â
She shakes her head gently, curls brushing her cheeks.
âYou didnât hurt me,â she murmurs. âWe just argued. Thatâs what couples do.â A pause. âAnd you didnât lie.â
âBut I was mean,â you admit. âAnd distant. Iâve been pushing you away since the weekend.â You hesitate before sliding your hand over her thigh, slow enough that she has time to pull back if she wants to. She doesnât. âI want to apologize for all of that.â
Wanda releases a quiet breath and places her hand over yours. For a split second, you think she might retreat - her fingers tense, uncertain - but then they curl around yours, lacing together like muscle memory.
âI want to apologize too,â she says. Her voice is so small it makes your chest ache. âI thought my father said something terrible to you⊠and knowing him, he probably did.â She exhales through her nose, eyes shining again. âI shouldnât have left you alone. Or acted like it didnât matter. You were clearly upset.â
She swallows, gathering herself.
âSo⊠Iâm sorry. For whatever it was.â Her thumb rubs against your knuckles in slow, nervous strokes. âBecause the moments weâve shared - alone, and all the others over the past few months - theyâve been the best of my life.â
âWanda - â
She keeps going, afraid you might stop her.
âAnd Iâll understand if Iâm too much. If my family is too much. If youâre tired of dealing with all of it.â Her voice trembles. âBut I needed you to know Iâve never felt like this with anyone else, and - â
âWanda.â
You tighten your grip just enough to ground her, gently guiding her attention back to you.
She falls silent, breathing unevenly, eyes wet and searching. Your free hand rises to her cheek. The warmth of her skin seeps into your palm, and you smile softly when she leans into your touch without hesitation, like sheâs been waiting for permission.
âIâm not tired of you, sweetheart,â you murmur. âYouâre not too much.â
Your thumb brushes slowly over her cheekbone.
âAnd Iâve never felt this way before either. We understand each other in ways no one else ever has.â Your voice grows steadier the longer you speak. âEvery silly fight, every misunderstanding - itâs only brought us closer. To a place of trust and intimacy I didnât even know was possible.â
You huff a quiet laugh.
âEvery little thing about you - your poetry, the way you set half a dozen alarms and still snooze all of them - Iâve come to love.â
Wanda lets out a shy chuckle, shoulders relaxing just a little. Your heart stutters painfully in your chest. Thereâs something you want to say, hovering right at the edge of your tongue, heavy and terrifying.
âThatâs why I - â you start.
She looks at you with bright, expectant eyes.
You swallow, courage failing at the last second. The words stay lodged in your throat.
Wandaâs lips curve into a knowing smile. You donât say anything - and somehow, she understands anyway. She nods faintly, closing the distance to press her lips to yours. The kiss is slow and intense, careful but full, like a promise held between breaths.
You sigh when she pulls back, eyes still closed.
âWhenever youâre ready, babe,â she whispers. âWe have all the time in the world.â
You open your eyes to her, to the green irises you adore - the ones you love so much it almost scares you.
Swallowing hard, you trace her cheek with your fingertip.
Then, softly:
âNow tell me⊠where have you been all day?â
Wanda groans and buries her face in your neck, curls brushing against your skin. You chuckle, a little breathless, curiosity flaring.
âItâs stupid,â she murmurs against you.
For a moment, the conversation nearly slips away entirely as her hands trail down your torso, sliding beneath your blouse. Your breath hitches, all you manage is a quiet hum to show youâre listening. You shiver as her fingers move to your belt, deft and familiar.
âJean used to hang out with this guy, Logan,â she continues, voice muffled against your skin. âHe was also kind of her dealer.â
Her nails scrape lightly down your sides, sending sparks up your spine and making it very hard to focus on anything sheâs saying.
âHeâs a pain in the ass to be around,â she continues, words tumbling over each other, âbut he has the best weed. And I was so stressed, and I just wanted to forget we were fighting, so I texted him.â She groans softly, forehead dropping against yours. âHe thought it was about Jean.â
You snort, unable to help yourself.
âAnd I spent almost the entire afternoon,â Wanda presses on, clearly mortified now, âlistening to his plans to win her back over a damn reefer.â
You laugh, the sound easing some of the leftover tension in your chest. Your hand slides to the one sheâs already used to unzip your pants, gently stopping her before she can reach further. You lace your fingers together instead, grounding the moment as you lift your gaze to meet hers.
âSo,â you say, amusement dancing in your eyes, âyouâre telling me youâre high right now?â
You donât really need an answer. Now that youâre paying attention, itâs obvious - the softness to her focus, the extra looseness in her limbs, the way she sways just slightly where sheâs kneeling between you.
Wanda pouts.
âNo, itâs⊠wearing off,â she insists, lips pushing forward in a way she knows you canât resist. Then she giggles when you narrow your eyes at her. âIâm fine. I am fine.â
She shrugs sheepishly.
âHe sold me one joint and talked for, like, four fucking hours,â she adds, rolling her eyes. âIâm good enough for some⊠reconciliation making out.â
She leans in to kiss you, but you laugh and turn your face, wrapping your arms around her instead. You pull her with you as you fall back onto the bed, the mattress creaking softly beneath your weight. Her indignant pout doesnât last long - she groans in contentment as she sinks onto your lap, and you adjust her easily, hands sliding over her back in slow, reassuring strokes.
The room settles around you - dim light, rumpled sheets, the quiet hum of the city outside. For a moment, itâs just you and Wanda, tangled together, breathing in sync.
Then you feel her tense.
The shift is subtle, but unmistakable. Your stomach tightens.
âI think my father said something very bad to you that day,â she murmurs. Itâs not an accusation - itâs careful, aching curiosity. âDidnât he?â
You exhale slowly, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there. Wanda doesnât look away from you, waiting patiently, hand resting over your heart.
You sigh once. Then again.
And you tell her.
You tell her how the day had started perfect - laughter, warmth, the promise of something lasting - and how it all cracked apart the moment her father arrived. You repeat his words without embellishment, without drama, just the raw truth of them. When you finish, your chest feels hollow, exposed.
Wandaâs eyes glisten, her lips parting as if she might cry - but you donât want tears. You shift, sitting up abruptly, already half-considering retreat. The living room couch sounds tempting, distant, safe.
She moves with you immediately, following your motion like gravity.
âIâm sorry,â she says quickly. âI shouldnât have left you alone with him. Or been so wrapped up in the internship. Iâm so sorry - I had no idea - â
âWanda, itâs okay,â you interrupt, heat creeping up your neck. âPlease, just let it go. It happened.â You give a weak smile. âYou donât have to pity me. Iâm a big girl.â
She shakes her head, curls bouncing, then searches blindly for your hands until she finds them and forces you to meet her eyes.
âIâm not pitying you,â she says firmly. âIâm furious. Furious at my father - and at myself for letting it get this far.â Her brows knit. âAnd honestly? Iâm a little mad at you for not telling me why youâve been working yourself to death lately.â
You let out a soft, humorless laugh, gaze dropping to your intertwined fingers.
âIâm going to talk to Dr. Octavius about shorter hours,â you admit. âI really missed spending time with you.â
Her expression melts. Wanda smiles gently, nodding.
âWe need to stop letting other people mess with us,â she says.
You smile back, lifting your hands between you in an exaggerated, solemn gesture that makes her chuckle.
âPinky promise?â you whisper, lacing your fingers with hers and lifting them near her face. âThat nothing and no one will tear us apart.â
âPromise,â she breathes. Her accent thickens, voice low and emotional.
This time, youâre the one who leans in first. She kisses you back immediately, smiling into it, soft and warm. Youâre just beginning to let yourself melt into it - just barely letting your tongue brush against hers - when a sudden tugging noise at the door startles you both.
You break apart with matching gasps.
You exchange a knowing look with Wanda before scrambling toward the door. When you open it, youâre greeted not by silence, but by a tangled pile of limbs on the floor. Apparently, Kate lost her balance - and took everyone else down with her.
You cross your arms, trying very hard to look stern.
Behind you, Wanda presses a hand to her mouth, shoulders shaking as she struggles not to laugh.
From the floor, Kate lifts her hand and gives you an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
I've been reading your stories for years now, and I always appreciated the hard work. I haven't been much into Tumblr for a while but your roommate series literally bought me back here lol
I was wondering when the next chapter was coming, the 8 one, if you already know I mean
I spent the whole weekend playing resident evil and forgot to post the next one, sorry haha I'll do it right now :)
Ngl I've been a bit absent in the Wanda Maximoff random but your stories especially Room Neighbor brought me back and I'm loving every second of it, so thank you haha
we need wanda back in the mcu so people start writing about her again!! also i'm glad you're liking the story <3
iâm starting room neighbors and itâs so good! i just wanted to ask if the story is gender neutral reader or female reader? aaaaaa looking forward to more chapters! đ€
heey, most stuff i write is female reader 'cause i write in portuguese and almost nothing is gender neutral in my language so when i translate the text a lot goes to the female form.
Room Neighbors - Chapter Seven - Wanda Maximoff Series
series summary: A flood at the Nexus frat house requires its members to be relocated across all shared apartments of NYU. You and your roommates have a quiet routine, but everything is turned upside down when new students move in.
chapter summary: you and wanda go travel.
warnings: (+18) first time together, making out, conversations about feelings.
a/n-> pretty sure i wrote this during a work meeting lol
General Masterlist | AO3 | Series Masterlist
-x-
âI need your car this weekend,â Wanda announced, her tone deliberately casual, though the tension in her shoulders betrayed her.
Across from her, Pietro let out a short, dry laugh as he stabbed a piece of breaded chicken with his fork. âAnd Iâm guessing Iâm not supposed to tell Dad where itâs going?â
Wanda didnât look up. She continued to swirl her lunch around with mechanical focus, pushing the fusilli through the tomato sauce like it hadnât already been stirred three times.
Pietroâs smirk faded as he leaned slightly forward, elbow resting on the table, eyebrows arching with a teasing lift. âSo, Iâm an accomplice now?â
Her eyes flicked up briefly, unamused. âDonât be dramatic.â
He chuckled again, leaning back and letting his chair creak beneath him. âItâll cost you.â
Wanda narrowed her gaze, already expecting that answer. âWhat do you want?â
He shrugged, that same annoying, vague gesture he always used when he was still thinking of ways to be difficult. âIâll think about it. But no scratches. And absolutely no strangers driving my baby.â
Wanda scoffed and mirrored his shrug with theatrical exaggeration. âY/N is not a stranger. Werenât you the one calling her your best friend like, three days ago?â
Another shrug, but this time he grinned around a mouthful of pasta. Wanda rolled her eyes hard enough to see the inside of her skull.
Still, she nodded, lips twitching as she pulled out her phone beneath the table and typed a quick message: All set for the weekend. I can't wait.
Almost immediately, your reply lit up her screen - a picture of your sneakers, nervously bouncing against the linoleum floor of Oscorpâs waiting room. Wanda smiled, soft and brief, her thumb lingering over the screen. She could practically hear the jingle of the receptionistâs desk bell and smell the too-strong industrial cleaner from the image alone.Â
âWhere are you running off to with your girlfriend anyway, Juliet?â Pietro quipped a moment later, mocking the nickname with theatrical flair.
Wanda didnât even lift her head. âPlease, donât start with this nickname,â she muttered, stuffing a bite of pasta in her mouth before continuing. âDadâs cabin. Hudson River Valley.â
Pietro gave a low whistle. âIsolated. Woodsy. A+ for âromantic hideaway vibes.â Also a solid place to scream into the void... or into a pillow.â
Wanda gave him a sharp look, cheeks beginning to pink. âYouâre disgusting.â
He only laughed harder, leaning into her discomfort like a cat in a sunbeam. âCâmon, donât act innocent. I bet - â His teasing halted as he studied her face more closely. Her brows had pulled together subtly, and her fork now sat idle in her hand. âOh my god,â he said, slowly grinning wider. âYou actually like her.â
Wandaâs eyes darted away. Her hand clenched around her napkin. âWhat are you even talking about, idiot?â
Pietro tilted his head, feigning innocence. âYour face. Youâre blushing. And sweating. At the thought of being alone with her for 48 hours.â
She groaned and buried her face in her hands. âI hate you.â
His laughter quieted slightly, though the smile remained. He reached across the table and gently tapped her wrist. âRelax, little sister. Iâm just messing with you. But if it helps, I bet Y/Nâs just as nervous.â
Wanda didnât answer. She couldnât - her mouth was suddenly dry, her fingers twitching near the edge of her phone.
âAnd judging by that reaction and all my knowledge of your life,â Pietro added, tilting his head with mock thoughtfulness, âit is your first time with a chick.â
She jerked her hand away like heâd burned her. âWe donât need to talk about that.â
He only shrugged. âJust saying. Use protection. Or sage. Whatever girls on girls do.â
She groaned again, louder this time, grabbing her tray. âIâm going to class.â
âHave fun with your existential crisis!â he called after her, watching her storm off with theatrical amusement.
But for all the noise she made on her way out, Wanda was quieter than ever when she sat down again in the locker room, gym bag hanging off one shoulder, water bottle pressed against her lips like it might cool the heat in her chest.
And then she missed the ball. Again.
By the third time she botched a pass, Coach Wilson called for a water break with a concerned frown, and Wanda collapsed onto the bench beside Monica, cheeks still flushed, not from exertion.
âYouâre a little off today, Wands. Is everything okay?â Monica asked, crouching slightly in front of her, brows knitting together.
Wanda hesitated for one long sip, then pulled the bottle from her lips and stared at the floor tiles like they might have an answer. âDo you think I seem like someone whoâs... good in bed?â
Wanda sighed again, dragging her hands down her face as if trying to physically pull the right words out of herself. âI meanâŠâ Her fingers laced together nervously in her lap. âDo you think I give off... confidence? Or, like... general sexiness?â
Jean blinked, then broke into a grin. âIf youâre asking if we think youâre hot, then yes.â
Monica laughed under her breath, nudging Jean. âNo hesitation.â
Wanda gave a breathy chuckle, but it was tight, restless. Jean leaned closer, her tone softening. âYouâre beautiful, Wanda. Seriously. Total girlfriend material. Is this a crisis of self-confidence orâŠ?â
âNo, itâs not that,â Wanda interrupted quickly, grateful for their words, but still agitated. She fidgeted with the strap of her water bottle, twisting it until her knuckles turned white. âI just - ugh, I invited Y/N to spend the weekend with me at my dadâs cabin in Hudson. And weâve never... done anything yet. I mean, not that. And the only person Iâve ever been with is Vision - a guy. So I have no idea what Iâm doing.â
Monicaâs brows lifted slowly in understanding.
Wanda continued, her voice dropping. âY/N is so confident in her sexuality. Sheâs been with girls before. She's... experienced. And Iâm just... me.â Her throat tightened around the last words like they embarrassed her to say.
Jean and Monica exchanged a look - part surprise, part amusement, part sisterly concern.
âWanda,â Jean said gently, scooting closer on the bench. âYouâre overthinking. Seriously. Being with girls isnât some secret club with a manual. You already know what feels good. Just bring that energy.â
Monica bit back a smile at Wandaâs deer-in-the-headlights expression. âAnd talk to her,â she added helpfully. âCommunication is kind of... vital.â
Jean smirked. âOr porn.â
âOh my god,â Monica groaned, laughing. âDonât send her to that mess. Itâs all fake and weird.â
Wanda groaned into her hands, her voice muffled. âThis is not helping.â
âOkay, okay,â Jean said, raising both palms. âJoking aside - just relax. If something happens, it happens. If not, it doesnât mean anythingâs wrong. Sex isnât some mandatory checkpoint.â
Wanda huffed, her cheeks flushed. âYeah, but... I want to. I really want to have sex with her.â
Monica snorted. âWell then, do it.â
Jean grinned. âNow thatâs the spirit.â
Monica gave her shoulder a squeeze, speaking more earnestly now. âYouâve got nothing to worry about. Youâre sexy, Wanda. You carry it without even trying. I bet Y/N assumes you totally know what youâre doing. And honestly? Sheâd probably think your freak-out right now is adorable.â
Wanda opened her mouth to retort but froze as Monica suddenly turned her by the shoulders, forcing her to face the gym entrance.
âAlso, look who just walked in.â
Wanda blinked, heart stalling. You had just entered, hands tucked into your jacket pockets, eyes scanning the gym. When they found her, your entire face lit up. You raised your hand in a wave.
Her heart did a cartwheel.
She waved back before the whistle blew, signaling the end of break. A sigh escaped her lips, but she was already reaching for her pom-poms with new energy.
Practice resumed - and this time, Wanda barely missed a beat. She moved sharper, landed firmer, smiled wider. You were watching, and that changed everything.
The second Coach dismissed them, she didnât even wait for the squad to fully disband. She practically sprinted toward the bleachers where you stood. You opened your arms just in time as she launched into your embrace, nearly knocking you backward with the force of her hug.
You laughed, flustered but delighted, your hands settling instinctively around her waist.
And then she kissed you.
Fast and hungry, like she couldnât help it. Her fingers curled in your collar as your lips met, and you kissed her back just as urgently - soft, then slower. Around you, the squadâs hooting and teasing echoed in the background, but it might as well have been static.
When she finally pulled back, breathless and grinning, her eyes sparkled under the gym lights. âHi,â she whispered, forehead resting against yours.
âHi, you,â you murmured, brushing your nose against hers and stealing another quick kiss. Her smile deepened.
âHow was your interview?â she asked, her arm slinging over your shoulder with easy affection as you began to walk together.
You shrugged, a little dazed by how close she was. âI think it went okay. If I get the job, Iâll start next week.â
Wanda pouted. âDoes this mean youâre going to be busy all the time?â
You nodded. She sighed dramatically. âI hate that your lack of money keeps you away from me.â
You burst into laughter, your forehead dropping to her shoulder. âWanda!â
She chuckled too, biting back a grin as she felt your arms tighten around her waist. The way you held her - it wasnât even sexual. It was tender. And it made her feel so seen, so wanted, it was almost unbearable.
After a beat, she asked softly, âYou okay?â
You looked up again, your expression thoughtful. Something unspoken lingered behind your eyes, but then you smiled, warm and real, and gave her a slow nod.
âI am now.â
âDo you have a class now?â Wanda asked, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face with the back of her fingers.
You shook your head. âNo, but I arranged with Maria to review some papers for Economics. Why?â
She hesitated, eyes lingering on you like she didnât want to blink. âI just wanted to spend some time together,â she admitted quietly, her voice soft with something almost bashful beneath it. Your heart flipped at her sincerity. âCan I join you two? I have some delayed papers from Mr. Pymâs class.â
Instead of answering, you leaned in and kissed her. The kind of kiss that spoke instead of her, that said of course you can, that said I want you near me always. She smiled into it, already used to how often you used your lips to say what words couldnât. But your breath hitched as her teeth gently caught your lower lip - pulling, teasing, claiming.
You let out a shaky exhale as you pulled back just enough to look at you with that wicked glint in her eyes. âYou donât even have to ask, darlingâ you murmured, voice sultry and affectionate all at once.
A full-body shiver ran through her. The pet name. The way you said it. The way it felt.
Her cheeks burned as she whispered, âO-okay,â barely able to keep her voice steady.
You grinned, then pressed your lips to hers again, slower this time, with a tenderness that lingered.
-&-
Wanda didnât mind that you werenât a morning person - on the contrary, she secretly adored it. The way your body naturally leaned toward the passenger-side window, limbs soft and face slack with sleep, gave her time to simply watch you. Each red light on the scenic drive through winding country roads became an excuse to glance at you with affection too tender to show while you were awake.
Youâd both left campus earlier than planned on Saturday, skipping the usual weekend chaos for the serenity of Hudson. Wanda had told herself to believe Jean and Monica, to trust that she didnât need to plan every second, to not obsess over what might or might not happen. But with each passing mile, the weight in her chest only grew. You, meanwhile, had promptly fallen asleep halfway through your iced coffee and hadn't stirred since. Quite the pair indeed.
The car slowed again - this time for a turn - and Wanda smiled at the tiny grunt you made, your brows twitching before your eyes fluttered open, sleepy and unfocused.
âHey, sleepyhead,â she greeted, her voice light with affection. She glanced sideways at you before turning back to the narrow gravel road ahead. âWeâre almost there.â
You yawned deeply, stretching with the lazy grace of a cat and rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palm. âSorry for sleeping on you,â you mumbled, voice still hoarse from sleep. Your hand landed on her thigh - absent, casual, grounding. You squeezed gently and didn't even notice the way Wanda's breath hitched.
She bit the inside of her cheek, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. It wasnât like you meant anything by it. But that didnât stop her brain from momentarily short-circuiting, hyper-aware of the warmth of your fingers on her bare skin.
You remained completely oblivious, chattering lightly about the changing scenery and how the houses were spaced out like something out of a movie. Wanda nodded along, eyes flicking between you and the road, lips pulled into a tight smile that didnât match her hammering heart.
When the Victorian house came into view - its dark brick walls nestled at the end of a gravel path surrounded by lush greenery - you sat up straighter in your seat, breath catching.
Wanda laughed, the sound of it light and a little relieved. âPlease, itâs just old money and some renovations.â
You were already halfway out of the car, grabbing your bag before she could reach it. âLet me. You paid for this whole trip, remember? Iâm carrying everything.â
She tried to argue, but you were already spinning on your heel toward the porch, calling over your shoulder that sheâd better hurry up if she wanted pancakes.
Inside, the house was the perfect balance of classic architecture and modern luxury - elegant moldings and original hardwood floors mixed with massive TVs and a surround sound system. The living room opened into a lake-view den with wall-to-wall windows, and your eyes lit up as you spun in place.
âIâm marrying you,â you declared playfully. âThis place has a game room.â
Wanda only rolled her eyes fondly and made her way to the kitchen, where she placed the keys on the polished marble counter and relieved you of a few bags. âAre you hungry, detka?â she asked, glancing at the sunlit windows. The lake sparkled in the distance, framed by budding trees in full spring bloom.
âHm, a little,â you admitted, distracted as you explored.
âI told the housekeeper to stock the cupboards. Make yourself at home.â
Wanda left to take the bags to the bedroom and sent a quick text to Pietro and the apartment group chat letting them know youâd arrived. She ignored the flood of replies - mostly crass jokes from Pietro - and shut off her phone before she could be tempted to respond.
When she returned to the kitchen, she froze in the doorway.
There you were, barefoot and humming, your back to her as you rummaged through the cabinets. You moved with domestic ease, pulling out ingredients with quiet purpose. Wanda felt something in her chest tighten - something warm and dangerous and overwhelming all at once. You looked like you belonged there. Like you belonged with her.
She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, chin resting lightly on your shoulder.
âHey,â you murmured, glancing back at her with a soft smile. âIâm making your favorite.â
Wanda let go so you could keep working, but her gaze lingered. âYouâre my favorite.â
You chuckled. âSuch a flirt.â
âIâm serious,â she said, more quietly now. Her eyes scanned the curve of your jaw, the way your hair fell slightly messier than usual. âYou have no idea how happy I am that youâre here.â
You glanced at her over your shoulder, soft affection in your eyes. âIâm glad Iâm here too.â
Wanda hopped onto the counter and let her legs swing slightly, content to just watch you for a few minutes - how you moved around her space like you were used to it, how your humming drifted lazily through the air, blending with the soft breeze from the open kitchen window. Outside, birds chirped and the trees swayed gently.
She found herself thinking that she didnât need a perfect plan for the weekend. Maybe just this would be enough. Maybe it already was.
You broke the silence a moment later, glancing at her as you stirred batter into a bowl. âWhat do you wanna do later? Besides the obvious âbeat you at Mario Kartâ thing.â
Wanda laughed, her eyes twinkling. âWeâll see who wins. But I was thinking we could go down to the lake before dinner. Thereâs a little trail through the woods.â
You nodded with a smile. âThat sounds perfect.â
You exchange casual comments in the warm lull of late afternoon, your voices mingling with the soft hum of cicadas outside and the faint clatter of utensils behind you. Wandaâs fingers trace idle shapes on the kitchen counter as she watches you move with easy confidence - barefoot on the tiled floor, sleeves pushed up, the smell of something sweet and comforting rising from the bowl in your hands.
âWe could go for a swim later,â she offers, her voice light but edged with a certain wistfulness. Her teeth catch on the inside of her cheek when you turn to look at her, presenting the finished batter with a quiet pride. She watches as you swipe a finger through the mix, then suck it into your mouth - lazy, thoughtless - but it knocks the air from her lungs anyway.
Her imagination trips.
âWe canât,â you reply, soft amusement tugging at your lips as you set the bowl beside the stove and make your way toward her.
Wanda's brows lift slightly, a question perched on them even before she speaks. âHm? Why not?â
You're already stepping between her parted legs, palms warm on the outside of her thighs where the hem of her shorts rides up. The worn wood of the bar stool creaks under her as she shifts, letting you closer.
âBecause I donât know how to swim. The confession slips out, quieter than your earlier words - almost shy.
Wanda blinks at you in surprise before a grin blossoms across her face, wide and disbelieving. âWhat? But youâre practically a doctor,â she teases, laughter caught in her throat, tangled in her affection for you. Her hands reach for your arms, thumbs rubbing slow circles over your sleeves. Sheâs trying - and barely managing - to keep things light.
âIâll teach you,â she murmurs. âWe have a pool.â
âOh, of course you do,â you reply, tone full of mock exasperation, your grin mirroring hers. âWhy doesnât that surprise me?â
You donât give her time to respond. Instead, you close the space between you and press your lips to hers.
It starts slow. A lingering, exploratory kiss that carries more weight than the playful words that came before. Wandaâs breath catches, fingers curling around the edge of the counter behind her like she needs something to hold onto - like you arenât already pulling her under. Her chest rises in a shallow rhythm, mouth parting against yours with a soft, involuntary noise that betrays just how affected she is.
The house is still - all sun-filtered light and lazy shadows - and the silence only makes the tension louder, thicker. You pull back a breathâs width to look at her, eyes darker now, your thumb absently stroking the inside of her thigh.
âWerenât we eating?â she asks, voice low, hoarse with the weight of want.
You donât answer. Not with words.
You grab her waist and pull her back in, the kiss losing any pretense of patience. Itâs teeth and tongue and need.Â
She swallows the sound you make, deep in your throat, as her legs hook around your hips and draw you closer - hips meeting in a slow, shuddering grind that tears a gasp from both of you.
Your hands brace beneath her, fingers digging into the backs of her thighs like youâre afraid sheâll slip away. Wandaâs moan vibrates against your lips, and everything else - the cooling batter on the counter, the golden sky outside the window, the quiet world beyond the walls - disappears into the heat between your bodies.
Sheâs the one who grabs your blouse, yanking it open with a swift pull - buttons clattering across the kitchen tiles like startled beads of rain. You gasp, more surprised than alarmed, but it melts into a sigh the moment her hands find your bare skin. Her touch is hungry, nails raking softly down your stomach before sliding around to your back. She squeezes your ass with both hands, pulling you flush against her body, her kiss deepening as your hips press together.
Your groan vibrates into her mouth, hands already slipping under the hem of her skirt. She gasps into the kiss - caught off guard - when your fingers find the edge of her panties and play idly with the fabric, not quite giving her what she wants.
âYou can take them off,â she whispers between shallow breaths, her voice uneven with need.
You smile against her lips but donât obey right away. Instead, your hands retreat, and your kisses grow softer until you finally pull back to meet her gaze. You're breathless, pupils blown wide, and yet your tone is nothing but calm affection.
âWhatâs the rush, sweetheart?â you murmur, brushing your thumbs gently over her thighs. Thereâs a softness in your voice that disarms her more than anything else. âWeâve got the whole weekend. And we havenât even had breakfast.â
Wanda lets out a quiet, frustrated breath through her nose and leans back on her elbows against the counter. The angle tilts her hips toward you, and the subtle shift exposes the darkened patch on her silk panties - undeniable evidence of how ready she is. You catch it instantly.
âI know something you can eat,â she whispers with a smirk, watching your breath hitch and your eyes darken as they trail down her body.
You chuckle, low and full of heat, and lift her skirt slowly - like unwrapping something precious. The fabric pools at her hips, and you pause just to take in the view, hunger sharpening your features.
âGod, Wanda...â you whisper, reverent, fingers curling at the waistband of her panties. You glance up for permission, and when she nods, you hook your thumbs into the red silk and slide them down with care.
She swallows hard as cool air grazes her exposed skin. Her legs part with quiet urgency - a silent plea - and it pulls a sound from deep in your throat.
You start slow, fingertips drawing lazy patterns along the insides of her thighs, deliberately avoiding where she wants you most. Every flick of your touch sends a new tremor through her, and Wanda has to bite her lip to keep from begging. Her breath grows ragged.
You grin - just slightly - as you continue teasing her with featherlight strokes, trailing closer, until she lets out a choked moan and meets your eyes, pleading without a word.
Still, you take your time. You press your fingers to her slick heat, parting her gently, tracing slow, deliberate circles. She lets out a broken sigh, head tipping back with the sensation.
âP-please,â she moans, voice thin, âstop teasingâŠâ
But all you do is lean in, brushing your lips over her cheek, your voice a quiet tease against her skin. âI thought this would happen in a bed,â you say, fingers still working with infuriating gentleness. âWho wouldâve guessed youâd be so needy, huh?â
Your words melt into a soft groan as you finally slip two fingers inside her, slow and steady. Wanda arches into the touch, her fists clenching at the edge of the counter, a moan spilling from her lips as her body opens around you.
You push your hair back with one hand and lean in, your face close to hers. âHey, baby,â you whisper, your breath warm on her cheek, âeyes on me⊠or Iâll stop.â
She forces her eyes open, pupils glassy, jaw slack as she watches you through half-lidded lashes. You reward her with a gentle thrust, your fingers finding a rhythm that makes her legs tremble against the stool.
Youâre in no rush. The way she squirms beneath your touch, the way her breath catches in her throat with every pass of your thumb - itâs all the answer you need.
âHas anyone everâŠâ you begin, voice dipped in heat, ââŠeaten you out before?â
She manages a nod, but itâs weak - distracted - her body strung tight like a wire.
âAnd did they do it right?â you ask, a little softer.
Her head gives a small shake, cheeks flushed not just with desire but something more vulnerable. A kind of doubt. As if sheâd done something wrong by not being satisfied.
You lean in, kiss her temple, and comb your fingers tenderly through her hair even as your other hand continues its slow, focused rhythm inside her. âOh, poor needy girl,â you murmur, âyou deserved better. Let me show you.â
The words fall over her like silk, and whatever tension she held onto breaks - her sounds grow louder, body trembling under the rising pressure you build so carefully, patiently, like sheâs something sacred in your hands.
You lean in to kiss her softly, and thatâs when Wanda first comes undone - trembling against your fingers as your tongues dance together, your mouth gently claiming hers. Her body stiffens all at once, gripping your shoulders as waves of an intense orgasm ripple through her. You whisper tender, hushed words into her ear, a soothing murmur meant to steady her racing breath. Wanda feels something deeper stirring in her chest - a heat that goes beyond mere desire.
Aware the precarious position on the kitchen countertop isnât comfortable for either of you, she wraps her arms around your neck and murmurs, âDetka, letâs go to bed.â Her voice is soft but urgent, and she closes her eyes briefly as you slide free from her still-pulsing heat.
You manage to navigate to the bedroom without stumbling - a small victory considering Wandaâs half-naked weight pressed against you, her hands tracing slow circles over your belly, the lingering proof of her pleasure glistening between you. Once settled on your lap, she kisses you again - hungry, teasing, and full of promise.
In bed, your touches grow slower, more deliberate. Your mouths explore each other between breathless kisses, fingers tugging lightly at clothing as impatience simmers beneath the surface. Wanda is the first to shed every last barrier, leaving you free to discover her skin inch by inch - hands and lips marking every curve, every soft plane.
By the time she wrestles your belt free, sheâs already left a fresh, damp stain on the thigh youâve nestled between her legs.
Your jeans and remaining shirt come off in one swift motion. The bare skin pressed to bare skin is electric, and Wanda lets out a soft mew beneath you, knowing full well that the next brush of your thigh against hers could send her spiraling over the edge again.
âDetka,â she breathes - a warning and an invitation all at once.
You lower yourself, lips tracing a slow path from the valley between her breasts down to the flat plane of her stomach, teasing her skin until you reach the place where she burns for you most. Wandaâs sudden shyness flickers as she tries to close her legs, but you catch them, fingers curling around her thighs with a look of hunger that makes her shiver.
âNever hide from me,â you murmur before diving in.
The house is quiet, secluded - the perfect sanctuary for the sounds she can no longer contain. Wandaâs hands find whatever they can grasp - the comforter, the edge of the headboard - until one latches onto your hair, pulling you closer.
Your breath hitches against her, savoring the taste of her as she whimpers beneath your attentive tongue, on the brink of surrender. Youâve teased her long enough; it isnât long before you guide her to a second, even more powerful release. This time, you only pull away to praise her.
âGod, youâre perfect,â you whisper, kissing and sliding your tongue through her folds, spreading the wetness of her climax. Itâs overwhelming, almost too much - yet never enough. Wanda tries to retreat from the intensity, but you hold her close, returning eagerly to your ministrations until she collapses back against the mattress, spent.
Your breathless praises are muffled against her as you continue, mixing sucking, licking, and fingers to coax her over and over again.
She doesnât notice when the room dims around her, but she knows her legs have gone numb when she wakes - only the gentle, chaste kisses on her jaw reminding her youâre still there.
You pause as soon as she stops making sounds, and when Wanda turns to look at you - cheeks flushed and eyes heavy with exhaustion - you break into a breathless giggle.
âHello, you,â you greet her with a smile. It takes her a moment to register, and when she does, she lets out a shy grunt and buries her face in the pillow.
âI canât believe I passed out⊠Fuck, thatâs so embarrassing,â she murmurs, voice still thick with sleep and satisfaction.
You cup her cheeks and tilt her head to meet your gaze. âDonât be silly. I think itâs a fantastic ego boost,â you tease, coaxing a soft giggle from her before kissing her again. This time, the kiss is slower, calmer, but no less charged - igniting a fresh wave of warmth when she tastes herself on your tongue.
Just as she moves to deepen the kiss, her hands reaching to pull back the sheet, you pull away with a gentle smile.
âEasy there, tigress,â you murmur, amused by her small grunt of protest. âLoss of consciousness requires a break - for food. And water.â
âBut - â
âNo buts,â you interrupt with a quick kiss and slip free of her grasp. Wanda bites her lip as you stand, fully aware that her body aches pleasantly from the intensity of your time together, and admiring the marks you left on her skin - the hickeys and scratches that speak of your passion.
âIâm going to make us some coffee now. Though itâs more like lunch...â you murmur, scanning the room for loose clothes while Wanda watches, bold and brazen.
âWhen weâve eaten, we can pick up where we left off,â you add with a knowing smile.
Wanda chuckles, nodding. âOh, we will,â she promises mischievously, enjoying the rosy flush coloring your cheeks.
You offer her one last smile before leaving the room, and Wanda sighs dreamily, sinking back into the mattress.
She feels completely at peace - fulfilled, joyful, and safe. When was the last time sheâd felt this way? If ever.
Biting back a silly, love-struck smile, she contemplates getting dressed or maybe preparing a bath for the two of you. But first, she needs to text the girls - tell them she was foolish to worry. This was more incredible than she ever could have imagined.
-
âIâve never been with a girl before.â
The confession slipped out low and hoarse, hours later - after you and Wanda lay tangled and utterly spent in the king-size bed. Lunch had been forgotten, half-eaten in a corner of the room, while the afternoon light shifted gently around you.
You paused your handâs caress on her back, surprised, and looked down at the girl resting her head against your chest.
âWhat?â you murmured.
Wanda lifted her chin, resting it softly on the hand perched at your collarbone. A shy smile tugged at her lips, and your legs twined together beneath the sheets.
âYou were my first, detka,â she whispered, eyes dreamy as if replaying the moments that had just passed.
Your fingers found her cheek, tracing the softness there, matching her small smile.
âYou shouldâve told me. I wouldâve been more⊠I donât know, less rushed,â you said awkwardly, drawing a gentle giggle from Wanda that made butterflies flutter in your stomach.
She looked stunning now - tousled hair, pupils dilated, the effortless curve of her smile lighting the room. Wanda shifted slightly to brush her lips against yours again, and you both smiled at the tender exchange.
Hovering just above you, she spoke with quiet sincerity. âIt was perfect. Iâve never felt this way with anyone before.â
Her words settled deep inside you as she kissed you again softly. You sighed into her mouth, feeling her settle against your hip, skin warm against your own, and your hands slipped down to rest on her thighs.
âIâm glad to be doing a good job,â you teased between kisses, savoring the smile she pressed against your lips.
Neither of you was ready to start again - too tired, and after everything youâd shared, you knew Wanda needed rest before things could become overwhelming. But that didnât stop her from kissing you with that intoxicating hunger, the slow, sensual dance of your tongues sending shivers from head to toe.
When you finally parted, both breathless and flushed, Wandaâs fingers had tangled in your hair, and the look she gave you made three words hover on the tip of your tongue - too real, too soon to say.
So instead, you smiled at the girl in your arms and swallowed the stirring emotions as she nestled closer against your chest.
Part of you hoped she could feel the meaning behind your gentle touches, even if you didnât speak it aloud.
The weekend passed faster than either of you wanted - entirely because of the effortless joy you found together.
You cooked meals side by side, played board games sprawled in the living room, and explored the vast house while Wanda told stories of past vacations there. And, of course, you learned how to swim.
Wanda was a relentless tease, never letting go of your body, keeping herself close enough for you to kiss her pretty face every few seconds. She explained the strokes carefully, but your attention was drawn irresistibly to her lips moving.
At least on Sunday, when you tried the heated pool, you managed to float. Wanda stayed beside you, beaming with pride, and you lingered in that moment, weightless and content.
Diving in and racing against each other was more fun, though - the pool echoed with your giggles as you splashed and chased.
At one point, you dove in together, facing each other underwater, eyes wide, breath held, laughter bubbling between you even beneath the surface.
And there, beneath the water, you tell her the words youâve barely dared to admit to yourself: I love you. Wandaâs face crumples into a confused expression - she canât quite understand, and so she breaks the surface, blinking up at you.
You surface a moment later, chuckling softly at the way she questions what you just said.
âI said I was cold,â you lie casually, though thereâs a brief hesitation in your voice that Wanda catches, her eyes narrowing for just a second. But you donât notice. Turning away, you leave the pool.
Wanda pushes aside her own uncertainty and follows you toward the towels.
Your heart races still as you return inside. The silence between you is heavy - meant to be comfortable, but it isnât. Wandaâs mind replays your last few moments together, searching for what she might have done wrong to make you suddenly so quiet. Meanwhile, you swallow down the overwhelming urge to scream the truth of what youâre feeling.
Itâs too soon. Too soon. Too -Â
Wanda interrupts your spiraling thoughts. As you cross the yard back to the living room, she slides one hand into yours, the gentle tug an invitation - no, a demand - for your lips to meet hers again.
For a moment, the words you meant to say vanish, replaced by the certainty of how you feel.
She sucks your tongue into her mouth, and you nearly let out a moan. Her hands toy with the straps of your bikini, sending fire coursing through your body as youâre pressed against the hallway wall.
Wandaâs mouth distracts you completely, kissing you with a fierce intensity that makes you gasp in pleasure - as her fingers slip inside your panties.
Her smile against your lips is wicked, teasing before she slips inside you all at once, nearly buckling your knees.
You try to return her kiss, but her mastery leaves you powerless. You melt against her, gripping her shoulders, grateful for the wall keeping you upright.
Her eyes watch you adoringly as her free hand brushes your hair back from your face.
âYou feel so warm, moya lyubov,â she whispers, feeling your fingers tighten around hers.
âLet it go for me, Iâve got you, detka.â
Almost like a mantra, you obey, and Wanda swallows the moan that escapes you.
She strokes you gently beyond the edge of your orgasm, but you raise your hand to stop her, signaling you need a moment.
A mischievous glint flashes in her eyes, as if sheâs ready to turn you into a mess right there in the hallway - until the sharp clatter of something falling shatters the moment.
Wanda releases you instantly, but only to cover your body with hers protectively.
âShit.â She gasps, eyes wide. âH-hey, Dad.â
You glance over her shoulder at the figure frozen in the hallway entrance. A suitcase lies overturned at his feet, and the man looks strikingly like both the twins - especially Pietro. He recovers from his surprise with more grace than you could manage.
âOh, Wanda? I saw Pietroâs car, so I thought... well, never mind what I thought,â Erik says, clearing his throat and avoiding her eyes. âIâll give you and your friend a moment to get dressed, then come meet me in the living room.â
Wanda nods silently, but you have to press a hand over your face to hide the flush of embarrassment - youâve just met your future father-in-law in the worst possible way.
