you and Peter both grew up as mutants. The only mutants that either of you have ever known of in your small town just outside DC. it doesn’t take an idiot to see that he has the biggest crush on you. One day, you find yourself on your porch locked out after forgetting your keys..he’s quick to help you out..and offer a stress reliever or two.
Warnings: smoking weed, mentions of smoking weed before, making out, grinding, finishing in pants, mentions of a shitty family life, peters a huge dork, use of his powers, reader doesn’t like to use her abilities and hides how she’s a mutant, very- I am not okay with this -based, set in the 70s.
you and Peter have known eachover since you were younger. He moved to town when he was 15 and officially met you when he was 16- you were 17 at the time..
you don’t have..the best relationship with your mom. She had you very young with a man who left her when you were a baby.
It’s usually just you and your younger brother since she’s very often at different bars and other men’s houses and she works a lot, but even that money normally goes to her drinking.
It’s why you had to get a job so young- at 14 -so you can feed both yourself and your brother. She only just has enough money to pay the rent normally and it’s not rare for you to have to chip in.
She’s not a fan of mutants. As in- she hates them. When you found out that you had your powers you hid them from her.
A mutant? In her house? She’d kick you out without a second thought and that wouldn’t be fair on both you and your brother. At this point you practically raised him.
You try to not to use your powers at all. you see your abilities as dangerous and life threatening he sees his as a chance to have fun and do stuff..you’ve seen the mat outside his door- it’s proof enough.
But have been times when your stress has gotten to the best of you and you’ve snapped and a dress of two (or 6) has been knocked down or windows have been smashed and doors blown in..there has been speculation all over town about a hidden mutant.
You’re just lucky enough that most people actually know you and they wouldn’t assume that you could possess powers so dangerous. Most people- the maximoff knew it was you almost immediately. He said so himself a week after an incident or two in the forest.
Peter though? He doesn’t give a fuck. Yes he doesn’t really use his powers in front of others but you know dammed well he uses it much more than you. To steal, play pranks, get out of trouble..he used to use it alot to skip lessons. He’ll speed across town and back then act like he didn’t move an inch. Hell rob and steal and openly win videos games in the arcades by speeding his hands up-
And his mom and sisters support him. Maybe not the..stealing bit, but the mutant part? Yes.
You’re not…friends per se but he moved in a couple of houses down and opposite from you about five year ago. Your one of the few people know who he’s a mutant like yourself- he’s constantly speeding by you and appearing out of nowhere to talk to you.
Peter…is..he’s interesting. He has pretty much no friends- not any you’ve ever seen anyway.
He doesn’t get out much. if you hadn’t seen his super speed for yourself you would have assumed he took on vampirish abilities instead. Even before you both graduated you almost never saw him in school and if you ever did it was in detention.
But he does walk home with you. Every. Single. Day.
It annoyed the shit out of you at first but soon enough he kinda..grew on you?
He doesn’t do much- just talks..and talks and talks- although you assume it’s mostly just nervous yapping. He waves at you when he sees you and smiles like an idiot when you wake back.
peter has always had what many, many, many people in town would call a crush on you. He stumbles over his words when he talks to you and trips over his own feet and rambles on about pointless bullshit just to keep the conversation flowing.
He always uses the lamest excuses to see you. For example, he goes to the cinema you work at just to ask about the movies that are on- only to leave not long after speaking to you.
He always just happens to be at the store at the same time as you and helps you with your bags whenever he can..
Pretty much everyone’s picked up on it. Even you- though you often ignore his terrible flirting and play it off as him being friendly.
It’s not that you aren’t ‘interested’ in him it’s just..it’s Peter. you’re not stupid, you’ve seen how genuinely attractive he is. Even if countless other people don’t.
From what you’ve heard- he’s never been seen with another girl and he’s apparently a ‘total virgin and a half’- coming from a friend of yours. And it doesn’t surprise you.
This morning, you were in a rush. You had spent all night with Issac finishing a very overdue project for school with him meaning you woke up an hour later than you normally do. Which meant you had to get him to school, your mom and you out of the door for work in twenty minutes.
You ended up ten minutes late for work- which led to a fifteen minute lecture from your boss about how important it is to be on time to work along with a warning.
You had spent the entire day dealing with stupid customers who didn’t know what films and snacks they wanted- kids screaming and crying for extra popcorn, you had to kick out about four teens for inappropriate behaviour and you clocked out an hour after you were supposed too- with no extra pay..
On the walk home, it started pouring down with heavy rain. Your hair? Messy. Your clothes? Soaked. Your favourite jacket? Ruined.
It’s safe to say it really wasn’t the best day you’ve ever had.
You’re finally home. You run down the worn path- not even glancing to see if Issac had left out his football on the dry, dead, grass- ignoring the loud creak that comes from each step of the stairs.
You stop at the door and go still when you see the note attached to the letterbox.
‘Issac at a friends I’m at work won’t be back till late. Don’t wait up- mom.’
You sigh softly and go into the right pocket of your jacket to get out your key- empty. Weird. You quickly check your left key..again- empty. Even weirder.
A panic fills you as you frantically check your pants pockets, finding nothing but spare change most people think is a ‘good tip’ and your bus ticket- “nononono-” You squat to the mat and look under it for the spare key- only to find nothing. Issac has probably took it. you reach for the handle and groan when you see its well and truly locked. You quickly go to the living room window and push- locked. Then the kitchen window- locked.
“Fuck!” You whisper as as you stand back up, putting your head against the door, fits clenched by your sides as you try to think..where could you go? What do you do?
There’s no way your going all the way to your moms work- not in this weather. And you’d rather die than ask your loud neighbours for help..
you can practically feel the flu creeping its way into your system.
“H-hey.” hes suddenly leant against the pillar just next to your door, trying and failing to look cool as he looks around. “is er- nobody in?..” he looks to the door hen to you- not a drop of rain on him. He takes in your..rather wet appearance and winces very slightly.
You turn to him, dripping wet. You take in his silver jacket, messy hair and muddy sneakers- his black jeans that fit him very nicely, the goggles that he moved to sit on his head..and you scoff.
“I’m stood out here because I like getting sick.” You say sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest, rubbing your arms with your hands to try and gain some warmth..
-when you realise that you might have been a little bit mean. “Sorry. My mom’s working late and my brothers at his friends..nobodies in and I forgot my key..so I’m locked out.”
He looks at you for a moment or two, taking in how..soggy you are. He almost admires you for a moment, a softer look on his face.
he looks towards his house just down the street then back to you- “w-well- there’s nobody..at mine?..you could- Y’know wait with me? For awhile? So you’re out of the rain..?” He raises an eyebrow, shifting as the rain starts to get to him too. “Unless someone’s back soon?..”
You know for a fact that peter would never do anything to you..as annoying as he is- he’s a sweetheart and the furthest thing from a jerk…and you can’t stay out here untill god knows when for your mom to get home or the rain to stop.
“I have some..weed?” he swallow- a hopeful look in his eye. “if your..into that.” he breathes out.
You’ve been in his house before. Your brother is friends with his younger sister and you normally go over to pick him up and drop him off. It’s not often you see Peter though- he’s normally in his room. According to his mom anyway.
…
“Fine.” A huge grin appears on his face and his eyebrow shoot up in surprise- “wait, really?”
“Yeah, I’m kinda desperate right now.” You take a small step towards him- and in a blur your suddenly on the maximoffs porch. The sped-on rug at your feet and the number 168 on the glass door.
you can’t tell if his super speed is the worst or best feeling you’ve ever felt in your life- dizziness with a side of relief that your finally going to get out of the cold.
“Jesus-” you close your eyes and hold onto his arm gently, steadying yourself. he brings his hand away from the back of your head and goes into his pocket..
“Sorry..I have to- hold on..or you’ll get whiplash- it’s a whole thing.” You let go of him as he moves to unlock his door for you and opens it, standing to the side to let you in. “And the nausea goes away after awhile.”
He closes the door behind you both and you take the chance to look around. It’s..surprisingly nice. A coat rack with about five jackets on it, wooden floors and pictures on the walls- one of Peter with a dopey grin on his face, his sister stood next to him. They both have cake all over them..
“My 15th. My hair smelt of chocolate for two days after.” He smiles as he puts his jacket on the rack, holding his hand out for yours.
You chuckle and take off your jacket. “It’s cute..that’s- Wanda? Right?” You pass him it and he nods. “Yeah, she moved out a couple of weeks ago. Went to college..” you nod- remembering her telling you about it not long before she left. “Must miss her.” You point out.
“Sometimes..the quiets nice though.” you watch as he puts your jacket next to his and he turns to you, standing awkwardly in the middle of the hallway..
You look around, your lips gently pressing against your lips as you wait for him to make some sort of move to guide you or lead you somewhere..
“Oh!” He walks towards the door at the end of the hallway- “I’ll get you a towel, stay there.” You watch him leave, a small smile on your face..
You hate to admit it- but his dorkiness is kinda endearing. In the most normal way possible.
He comes back with a..silver. It’s silver- “do you not own any colourful things?” You smile as you take the towel, quickly beginning to dry off your hair with it.
He walks towards a door in the middle of the walkway. “I like silver.”
“I can tell. You have silver hair, shoes, jacket, towel..I’m willing to bet anything you have like silver bedsheets or something.” You watch as he opens the door. “Where are you goin’?” You raise an eyebrow- is he taking you to the basement? Is he about to pull a psycho on you?!
“My room. Wanda and Claire got the bedrooms upstairs- which is cool, but the basement is much cooler.”
He walks down the stairs..and after a moment you follow him down, a suspicious look on your face- until you see the absolute wet dream that is Peter maximoffs room.
Ping pong table, countless arcade machines, big double bed, his own couch, posters on the walls, stash full of Twinkies..it’s all a little bit work out- a couple of rips on the couch, a T-shirt or two on the floor- his bed unmade with his sheets all over the place, that lingering smell of weed..but still- very cool.
Your jaw drops further with every step you take.
“This is your room?..” you scoff as you walk past him- ignoring the wet squelch of your shoes as you do.
“Yeah, pretty sick- right?” He moves to sit on his couch, putting his feet up onto the coffee table in front of it- one full of magazines and empty energy drink cans and takeout boxes.
“I mean- a little messy but..cool.” You look towards a certain part of his room- there’s a tall shelf full of vinyls with a little record/vinyl player on its own table next to it- it’s neater than the one he’s propped hit feet on and obviously well taken care off.
You smile as you walk towards the shelf, letting your fingers travel over the outside of them. “You have a lot of records, huh?” You gently flick one to see a pink Floyd album. “You like pink Floyd too-?” You turn and as you do a small gust of wind hits you and Peter is stood up, his hair swishing a little bit.
You look to the coffee table to see it empty- his bed is made and there aren’t any clothes on the floor..he cleaned up.
“Yeah- yeah, I..love pink Floyd.” He says as if he hadn’t done anything- putting his hands on his hips and reaching his body weight on one side of his body as he looks at you..
You smirk. “Same..” you mutter and turn back to his glorious display.
He swallows and looks you up and down- “you’re still wet.” He points out, awkwardly moving to cross his arms over his chest, shifting his weight around.
“No shit..” you flick through a couple of his records- he has a very..interesting music taste. Rush, ABBA, Queen, Blondie, Nirvana, Fleetwood Mac, the Beatles, Radiohead- some Elton John and a lot of Pink Floyd..
“..you want some clothes?..just while your clothes dry- we have a dryer so it’ll be quick- I just- you look uncomfortable and that’s the last thing we want so..”
“You don’t have too-” he shakes his head. “It’s no..problem- I have a lot of clothes anyway.” He wants to smack himself..why is he so dorky?
You smile slightly and look over at him. “Yeah, sure..and while I’m getting changed you could..make us a joint? You did mention weed.” You tease and he nods quickly.
“Yeah, of course- you can pick a song if you want?..I have a couple- as you know..” He walks towards his wardrobe- freaking out. You’re about to be wearing his clothes. In his room. Just the two of you.
You slowly flick through some more vinyls. He somehow has even more than you..you’re beginning to get why he never leaves this place- it’s great.
You settle on a Queen album. You gently take it out of its holder and place it on the slip mat of the player next to you, gently bringing the arm of it over to rest on it and good old fashioned lover boy begins to play through his room.
‘I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things. We can do the tango just for two. I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings, be your Valentino just for you.’
He stops in front of you with some plain black shorts and a faded band shirt. “They’re a couple years old- they’ll probably fit you better than most of the other stuff I have. Wanda took most of her clothes with her..”
‘Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy. What're you doin' tonight? Hey, boy. Set my alarm, turn on my charm. That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy.’
“Thanks.” You take the clothes, looking for somewhere to change-
“Oh- I’ll go- make it upstairs while you- yeah.” He’s gone in a flash. You snort softly but shrug as you walk towards his bed, putting the soft clothes on it and slowly unchanging..the music still plays and you sway your hips and nod your head to the beat.
‘Ooh, let me feel your heartbeat -Grow faster, faster- Oooh, can you feel my love heat? Come on and sit on my hot-seat of love. And tell me how do you feel right after all.’
You put your wet work-shirt and pants on the floor- and you pause..do you take your underwear off?..no- but they’re wet- would it be weird?..passing him- nope, your keeping them on. And your socks.
‘I'd like for you and I to go romancing. Say the word, your wish is my command.’
You quickly pull his shorts on then his shirt, sighing happily at the warmth they give you..
You look towards the stairs to make sure he isn’t there..before you pull the shirt up to your nose and inhale it- you let out a shaky sigh at how much it smells like him.
Since when did Peter smell so good?
‘Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy. What're you doin' tonight? Hey, boy. Write my letter. Feel much better. And use my fancy patter on the telephone.’
“Can I come down?” He calls from the top of the stairs and you quickly let go of the fabric, trying to act natural. “Yeah!” You move to sit on his bed, legs crossed as he walks back down, joint in his hand.
“Hey..” he walks towards you- he almost stops breathing when he sees you wearing his stuff but he tries not to show it, nodding his head slightly in time with the music..
‘When I'm not with you..Think of you always. -I miss those long hot summer nights- When I'm not with you. Think of me always. Love you. Love you.’
“Here.” He passes you the joint and gets a lighter out from his pocket, passing you it as he takes your clothes- speeding away then coming back less than two seconds later.
You smile and take the joint gently, bringing it to your lips as you light it up, inhaling softly and sighing through your nose at the familiar feeling.
‘Hey, boy, where do you get it from? Hey, boy, where did you go? I learned my passion In the good old-fashioned school of loverboys.’
“You’ve done this before then?..” he teases gently, taking the lighter back and putting it on his bedside table.
You snicker. “Once or twice. It’s a good stress reliever.” you take it between two fingers and hold it out to him. He takes it and takes a hit, closing his eyes and falling back onto his bed.
‘Dining at the Ritz we'll meet at nine -One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine o'clock- precisely, I will pay the bill, you taste the wine.’
You grin and fall back with him, your shoulder slightly grazing his.
“Obviously you have too..” you look over at him.
‘Driving back in style in my saloon will do quite nicely. Just take me back to yours that will be fine Come on and get it.’
He turns his head to look at you. “..it helps. With the whole- mutant thing. It’s the only thing that calms me down. Not exactly the healthiest stress relief- but it works..” he passes it back to you and you smile as you take a hit.
“Same..” you blow the smoke out into the air, letting yourself settle into the bedsheets below you.
‘Ooh, love -There he goes again. He's my good old fashioned loverboy- What're you doin' tonight? Hey, boy.’
You pass it back to him and his lets his fingers rest against yours for a couple of seconds before he takes it off of you.
You turn your head and looking at his room for a couple of seconds, taking in the details you missed when you first came in- and your eyebrow raises in surprise when you see a guitar.
‘Everything's all right, just hold on tight. That's because I'm a good old-fashioned (fashioned) loverboy.’
The song ends and you think for a couple of seconds- waiting in silence for the next song to play. “You play electric guitar?” You snort and look at him.
He hums- then looks towards the guitar then to you. “Yeah. You don’t think all I do down here is get high and eat, right?” He gives you a big, dopey, smile.
…did Peter just get hotter?
“That’s really cool. You’ve been holding out on me.” You joke and nudge him with your shoulder.
His cheeks flush slightly- taking another hit. “It didn’t take long to learn..it may not seem like it, but I’m actually pretty smart.” He whispers playfully, blowing the smoke into the air like you did.
“Probably the whole- being super fast thing.” You smirk. “makes you naturally fast at everything else..not to boost your ego or anything.”
He grins. “Don’t worry..ego not boosted.”
Somebody to love starts to play and you look towards the record player.
‘Can anybody find me somebody to love?’
“I like this one..” you can feel the effects of the weed starting to kick in and it makes a dopey smile that matches peters appear on your face. You both look at eachover for a couple of seconds..before you simultaneously burst out laughing.
It only takes about twenty more minutes until your both, truly, high as kites.
Creep by Radiohead of all things plays in the background of your laughs and giggles…as sad as the song is, it’s oddly..romantic?..Your hair is only half-damp now and you’re fully relaxed in peters clothes, on peters bed..how did your life get to this point?..
‘You float like a feather In a beautiful world’
“Okay- ok..” you turn to him. “I need to ask this- because- I heard from a friend..of a friend- that- your still a virgin?” You whisper-shout, your cheeks flushed pink. You have your elbow propped up on his bed, your head in your hand.
‘I wish I was special..You're so fucking special.’
His cheeks go pink and he giggles- “yeah..I am.” He laughs and turns to you- copying your pose. “Nobody in this town wants to kiss a mutant- never-mind fuck one…never-mind me.”
‘But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo.cWhat the hell am I doing here?’
“Well they’re idiots then.” You scoff. “You’re hot, dude..like- really.”
‘I don't belong here’
He laughs. “You?- you find me hot?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Can I tell you a secret?” You whisper. “I always have.” You smile and lean slightly closer to him. “I think the whole..thing you’ve got going on- is really..really hot.”
‘I don't care if it hurts. I want to have control.”
“I..think you’re hot too..” he whispers back.
“I know.” You laugh. “Everyone knows.” You mean slightly closer to him, he can feel the warmth of hour breath against his lips and it’s driving him crazy..
‘I want a perfect body. I want a perfect soul.’
“Fair enough..I er- I don’t do much to hide it.” He sighs..“I’m really into you.”
‘I want you to notice. When I'm not around.’
You smile and bring one hand to his hair, pushing some of it out of his face.
“I’m pretty sure..I’m totally into you too..” you admit, slowly running your hand through his soft, silver locks.
‘You're so fucking special. I wish I was special.’
He glances down to your lips..he’s suddenly a whole lot more confident than normal. “Can I kiss you?..”
‘But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo.’
he whispers, a pleading look on his face- he’s desperate for it. He’s been wanting this since he was 16- hes been yearning you for almost five years now..this is possibly his only chance to make some sort of move.
‘What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here.’
…“if you want too.” You whisper back, looking over his face intently..
‘Oh, oh’
“I..really, really want too.” He slowly leans in- giving you a good chance to back out if you want too.
‘She's running out again. She's running out. She run, run, run, run. Run.’
When you don’t lean back- and instead lean in a touch he leans closer and gently presses his lips to yours..the music evaporates for him the second you kiss him back, your hand moving to hold onto the curve of his neck- he whines softly as his hand automatically goes to your hip.
You feel a wave of heat shoot between your legs at just the feeling of him.
You lean closer, letting your bodies press together as you kiss him harder, loosing yourself in the kiss..you move so he’s on his back and you move to straddle him, keeping yourself as close as possible to him..
He moans the second your seated on his lap- his hands wrapping around you waist to pull you even closer to him. Fuck that moan was hot..
You let your instincts take over and you gently grind down against him, gasping softly when you feel him already half-hard beneath you. It feels so good- every movement against his jeans sends a jolt to your clit..“fuck, Pete..” you practically whimper against his lips, your eyes glossy with pleasure.
He jerks up against you, closing his eyes as he puts his head on your chest. He moans when you do it again, this time picking up a slow and steady pace. You tilt your head back slightly, looking down at him as you move faster- more eager.
He lets out a small gasp as his hips begin to quicken his pace under you, his mouth opening- “shit- you’re so fucking beautiful.” He blurts out, his eyebrows furrow as he tilts his head back- “you’re so pretty it’s weird-” he hands grip onto your thighs, hard enough to definitely leave marks. You can feel that tight knot inside you begin to slowly loosen- and from something so small..“Peter-”
When did Peter get so hot?! Genuinely- seeing him all hot and bothered for you- it’s doing something to you..like, really- really doing something, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer with every whine, whimper and gasp that escapes his lips.
You move your hands to rest on his chest, tugging and holding onto his shirt to attempt to ground yourself- “oh Peter-”
he whimpers at his name leaving your mouth, his hips twitching and eagerly moving against yours. “Oh- oh god I’m sorry m’ close- so close-” he pants against you- you can feel how hard he is and how obviously desperate he is and you nod quickly- “me too- fuck, me too-” you mutter, your thighs tensing against his.
“Oh-” he holds tighter onto you as he releases- right in his pants. His mouth opens in a moan and his hips rock more firmly-
You gasp and breathe heavily against him as you hit your clit one last time- “shit- hm!” You move at the perfect speed and hit the perfect angle- and that knot breaks loose, your hands stilling on his chest..“fuck.” You pant.
You look down between you to see a small dark stain on his jeans and a matching one on the shorts..
You move off of him and lie down relaxing once again in the bed. He follows suit and lets his back meet his sheets, panting and cheeks flushed..you let the tension in the air settle..and you both begin to slowly realise what’s just happened..
Summary: After the dark entity known as the Scarlet Witch takes control of Wanda Maximoff, she unexpectedly breaks up with you as a twisted reward for saving her. The pain of the breakup lingers for six long months as you try to cope and move on, finding solace in your own pursuits. However, just as you begin to find your footing again, you are revisited by old friends as they request your aid when the Scarlet Witch resurfaces.
✎
Pairing: Wanda x Reader
Warnings: none
Words: 3459
Heavy rain pummeled against the roof above you, but your attention was elsewhere. You marveled at the captivating beauty of your own veins, their emerald hue ensnaring your attention once more. The delicate skin on your forearm barely concealed the intricate network of verdant pathways pulsating just beneath the surface. It was a mesmerizing sight, an otherworldly shade of green that seemed to radiate with vitality. It was as if nature itself coursed through your very being, and you couldn’t help but be awestruck by the phenomenon as if you were seeing it for the first time again.
Your fingers wove through the thick fur of the small dog lying before you, a patient in need. Its shallow breaths and pained whimpers tugged at your heartstrings, yet the pain the animal was feeling caused a tightness to grip your muscles. As you touched the creature, you could feel its distress, intimately aware of every ounce of suffering it endured.
Drawing upon the energy within you, you channeled it toward the dog, willing healing and comfort to permeate its being. Gradually, its breathing steadied, the whimpers fading into silence. A surge of relief washed over you as the dog let out a joyous bark, springing to its feet on the metal examination table. A smile stretched across your features, mirroring the elation in the owner’s eyes as he stepped forward.
“Thank you,” he uttered, his voice laced with a mixture of gratitude and awe. His laughter mingled with relief, and he extended his hand for his furry companion to shower with affectionate licks. “That was incredible.” You drew in a low, shuddering breath, your arms trembling as you attempted to shake off the residual pain you had absorbed from the dog. As he embraced his pet, his fingers finding solace behind its ear, his gaze locked with yours, brimming with wonder. “I must admit, I was skeptical at first, thinking it was just another one of those scams. But witnessing your work… I’m glad I went with my gut.” He pressed his lips tenderly against the top of the dog’s head, a thin layer of tears glistening in his eyes as he inhaled deeply. With a determined nod, he raised his chin, composing himself. “I’ll see you around, doc.”
You chuckled softly, the sound laced with warmth and camaraderie. “Hopefully not too soon,” you replied, a gentle jest dancing in your words. A soft smile adorned your face as the owner departed, the room enveloped in a sense of profound gratitude and hope.
You lingered in the lobby, your gaze fixed on him as he hastily pushed open the glass door and scurried towards his car, seeking shelter from the relentless downpour. The heavy droplets cascaded from the sky, each one threatening to soak him to the bone. The urgency in his movements was palpable, his determination to avoid the drenching rain evident in every hurried step.
A jolt of thunder rattled the building, forcing you out of your stupor. You exhaled heavily as you approached the door. Through the rain-streaked surface, you peered out into the desolate parking lot as your last patient drove off into the night, your lips pressing together in a tight line. With a firm grip, you clasped the bottom of the OPEN sign, flipping it to CLOSE, while your other hand swiftly secured the deadbolt.
Standing there for a moment longer, you observed the heavy raindrops pummeling the pavement under the dim glow of the streetlights. A sense of foreboding weighed upon your shoulders, causing your gut to knot with unease. Determined to shake off the disquiet, you turned on your heels, ready to retreat back into the safety of your establishment.
But as you spun around, your heart leaped into your throat, freezing you in your tracks. A figure materialized in the doorway to your only examination room, shrouded in darkness. Steadying your voice, though your heart hammered against your ribs, you spoke with a measured tone, “Sorry, but we’re closed.” You moved to the side, taking refuge near the desk on your left. Your hand traced the inside of the counter, inching closer to what it sought. “You’re welcome to return tomorrow to make an appointment.”
A soft voice, laced with intrigue, cut through the tense air. “Or we can do it now.” The figure moved forward, stepping into the light, and relief washed over you as you met the familiar, piercing gaze of Natasha Romanoff. Releasing the handle of the concealed gun beneath your desk, you crossed your arms tightly over your chest. “Hey, Y/N. It’s been a while.”
“Nine months.” You shrugged nonchalantly, nodding subtly as you added, “Approaching ten soon.”
A faint smile tugged at Natasha’s lips as she gracefully approached, taking in the surroundings of your humble business. Her eyes wandered, absorbing every detail, as if memorizing the essence of your new life. “I imagined you doing a lot of things when you left,” she remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of astonishment. “Being a vet wasn’t one I anticipated.” Her gaze flickered back to you, her eyes meeting yours as you leaned against the desk. “Do you even have your license?” She arched an eyebrow teasingly, evoking a huff from you.
“What do you want, Natasha?”
Her lips curved into a more prominent yet gentle smile, but her eyes betrayed a hint of mischief. “What makes you think I want something?” she returned, feigning a wounded expression.
A trace of annoyance flickered across your face as you cleared your throat, not easily swayed by her act. “I haven’t heard from anybody on the team since I left,” you stated.
Natasha’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a more earnest expression. “I know,” she admitted, her voice carrying a touch of remorse. “We’ve all been… busy. But that doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten about you.”
A pang of vulnerability resonated within you, a mixture of yearning and the lingering sense of abandonment. You had made the difficult choice to walk away from the team, to forge a different path for yourself. Yet, a part of you had always hoped for a connection, a reassurance that your absence hadn’t rendered you completely forgotten.
“So why now?” you asked, your voice holding a hint of uncertainty. “Why reach out after all this time?”
She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering and earnest. As she poised herself to respond, a voice interjected before she could utter a word. “Because we need you, Y/N.” Startled, your eyes darted towards the source of the second voice, your attention suddenly drawn to another figure standing at the entrance of your examination room. Lost in the sight of Natasha, you had failed to notice the presence of a companion.
Your curiosity piqued, you shifted your focus towards the newly arrived figure, taking in their appearance and attempting to piece together the puzzle before you. Who was this unexpected partner accompanying Natasha, and what role did they play in this unfolding situation?
A scoff caught in your throat as Vision stepped into the room, his presence commanding and analytical. His unwavering gaze remained fixed upon you, intensifying the unease that simmered within. Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but release your disbelief. “You couldn’t have waited a few more seconds?” Natasha’s low question resonated in the room, its undercurrents of exasperation and frustration unmistakable.
“You were drawing it out,” Vision claimed, his tone devoid of emotion. “Time is of the essence, and we have little to spare.”
Your attention shifted, focusing your gaze squarely on Vision, a flicker of resentment igniting in your eyes. Your question, however, was directed towards Natasha, a mixture of confusion and disdain permeating your words. “Why is he here?”
The Russian’s response was steady, her voice tinged with a sense of understanding. “He insisted on coming,” she explained. “She’s back, Y/N.” It took a moment for the weight of her words to sink in, for the significance of their presence to fully register. Your gaze reluctantly shifted from Vision to meet hers, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach as the realization dawned upon you. “The Scarlet Witch has returned.”
A surge of sensations swirled within you, a maelstrom of recollections, regrets, and feelings. The return of the enigmatic and powerful being known as the Scarlet Witch held implications that stretched far beyond your current circumstances. It signified the revival of a chapter you had hoped to leave behind, a chapter that had left its mark upon your very soul.
As the gravity of the situation settled, a wave of emotions crashed over you, leaving you gasping for air. The resurgence of the past had brought forth a flood of unwelcomed memories and unresolved pain, and the mere thought of confronting it once again threatened to suffocate you. In that moment, you knew you couldn’t face it head-on with the Avengers.
You pushed past them, making your way to the hidden staircase around the corner. Their footsteps echoed behind you, their presence a constant reminder of the choices that lay before you. You remained silent, determined to retreat to the solace of your apartment, to gather your thoughts and find a momentary respite from the chaos unfolding.
Entering your kitchen, you could feel them looming behind you. Natasha’s voice cut through the air, her concern discernible. “Y/N, did you hear me?” Her gaze fixated on you as you retrieved a box from the freezer, allowing the door to swing shut. Her brows furrowed in confusion, Vision standing by her side. “Y/N-”
“I heard you,” you asserted, avoiding direct eye contact as your focus shifted to a frozen meal, the instructions becoming a temporary refuge. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”
Vision, his voice filled with urgency, interjected, “Wanda is in danger. How can you let her suffer-”
You cut him off, your gaze finally meeting his. Anger burned in your eyes, a testament to the pain that still lingered within. “The same way she let me suffer,” you declared, your voice laced with bitterness. The words hung heavily in the air, a raw truth that underlined the depth of your hurt. “You two wasted your precious time coming here. I’m not going back.”
A tense silence settled in the room, the weight of your decision palpable. The Avengers, once your allies, now stood before you, their expressions reflecting a mix of concern and disappointment. The path ahead seemed uncertain, and while part of you longed to join them, to embrace the cause once more, the scars of the past held you back.
With a heavy sigh, Natasha’s gaze softened, her words carrying a weight of understanding. “I know what she did to you. I know the pain she caused, but you also know how dire the situation can become. It’s going to escalate, and without your help, more lives will be at risk. More lives will be lost.” Your eyes locked onto hers, imploring you to remember the purpose that once drove you. “You were an Avenger, Y/N, because you believed in putting an end to that agony.”
Her words reverberated in the air, stirring a mix of emotions within you. Memories of your past life as an Avenger, the camaraderie, the shared purpose, surged to the surface. The weight of responsibility and the desire to protect innocents clashed with the scars of your own personal pain.
You hesitated, torn between the desire to shield yourself from further harm and the realization that your abilities could make a difference in preventing a greater catastrophe. The echoes of Natasha’s plea resonated in your mind.
Taking a deep breath, you met her gaze once more. “You don’t know anything,” you expressed flatly. “I hope you can find a way to save her without me.” With those words hanging in the air, you turned away from them, putting your focus back on the frozen meal in your hands as you stepped over to the microwave.
“She still loves you.” You felt yourself freeze at the android’s voice, your grip tightening and ultimately crumpling the box. Natasha’s voice was low when she attempted to stop him, but he continued with no regard for her. “She never stopped loving you, Y/N.”
“Don’t do that,” you claimed, your voice barely above a whisper, yet you knew he heard you. You dropped the meal onto the counter with a loud thunk as you leaned against it, bracing yourself. “Don’t manipulate my emotions so you can have your happy ending.”
The memory you had fought so hard against managed to trickle in through the cracks Vision’s words caused, and tears pricked the backs of your eyes as you looked at Wanda in your mind. Her soft features, usually filled with warmth and love, were now only filled with sorrow and agony. The pain of the past surged through your veins, threatening to consume you once again. You closed your eyes, desperately trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you, yet it only gave you a clearer view of what had happened.
“You’re wrong,” you sneered, pivoting to face the pair. “Wanda never had any true affection for me, and the Witch only aimed to exploit my vulnerability.” With your arms tightly folded across your chest, you leaned against the countertop behind you and subtly shook your head. “Picture this, Vision: rescuing the person you cherish from a… an ominous force, only to have her confess that she’s never reciprocated your love.”
The weight of those words hung heavy in the air as you paused, your gaze fixed on a distant point. The bitter taste of betrayal lingered on your lips, and a mixture of hurt and anger etched itself on your face. The truth had been unveiled, revealing a painful reality that shattered the illusion of love and trust you had held onto.
The memories flooded your mind, each one a piece of the puzzle that now formed a clear image. You recalled the moments of tenderness, the stolen glances, and the whispered promises of forever. But now they seemed like mere illusions, a cruel facade that masked the true intentions of the Scarlet Witch.
A surge of conflicting emotions coursed through your veins. On one hand, there was a sense of disbelief, a desperate desire to deny the harsh reality that had been thrust upon you. On the other hand, a wave of seething anger swelled within, fueled by the profound sense of betrayal. How could someone you loved so profoundly deceive you in such a way?
You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as you continued to steady yourself against the counter. The pain in your voice was undeniable. “The two of you can relax here for the night and wait out the storm, but I expect you to be gone in the morning.” Leaving your untouched dinner behind, you moved past Natasha and Vision, disappearing into the recesses of your apartment. The heavy thud of the closing bedroom door echoed, and a deep exhale escaped your lips as your back pressed against it.
In the quiet solitude, a whispered “I’m sorry” lingered in the air. The memory of her apology played like a haunting film on the back of your eyelids. You recalled the way she looked at you, a mix of remorse and helplessness, and your naive laughter that had once dismissed her regrets. At the time, you hadn’t fully grasped what she was apologizing for… until she mustered up the confidence to continue.
Shaking your head, you pried yourself away from the door, crossing the room to the edge of the bed. As you began to untie your shoes, you grappled with memories that threatened to overwhelm you. You tried to push them back into the vault you had constructed, sealing it shut to prevent the flood of emotions. Yet, despite your efforts, the vault had opened, and you allowed yourself to remember - her smile, the depth of her eyes, the infectious laughter that once filled the room.
A vice tightened around your heart as you recalled the tender moments, like the gentle sweep of her hand through your hair, a simple touch that held profound meaning. The recollection of nights entwined together, limbs and blankets creating a comforting chaos, brought both warmth and pain.
The struggle to forget was real, but the past insisted on resurfacing. With each memory, the walls you had built threatened to crumble, exposing vulnerabilities you had meticulously hidden.
The soft knock barely registered in your mind, lost beneath the weight of your thoughts. It wasn’t until a voice - steady, familiar - cut through the haze that you blinked back into the present. Your gaze lifted, sluggish and unfocused, until it landed on Natasha standing in front of you.
Your eyes flickered, landing on the frozen meal - now fully cooked - resting in her hands. The same one you’d abandoned in the kitchen. The same one you had no energy to make for yourself.
You hesitated. Accepting it meant letting her stay, meant listening to whatever argument she’d prepared to drag you back into the fight. But when your stomach let out a low, insistent growl, the choice was made for you.
Wordlessly, you took the meal.
She sat beside you without invitation.
“You’re right,” she murmured as you shoveled a forkful of food into your mouth. “I don’t know anything.”
You chewed slowly, your eyes fixed on the meal rather than the woman beside you. But she wasn’t finished.
“I don’t know what happened between you and Wanda after everything,” she continued. “I just know that whatever it was, it was bad enough to make you leave. To move across the country. To try to disappear.”
You swallowed, the food suddenly feeling heavy in your throat. “How’d you even find me?”
A low chuckle slipped from her lips, quiet and knowing. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”
You huffed, shaking your head as you lifted another bite to your mouth. “Too busy to stop by, but not too busy to spy.”
She exhaled through her nose, but there was no denial. Only quiet acknowledgment.
“You know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” she said, her voice steady, unwavering.
And the worst part?
You knew she was right.
You let Natasha’s words settle in the space between you - heavy, unshakable. She never wasted time on trivial things. If she was here, it meant things were worse than she was letting on.
Your grip tightened around the fork as you forced another bite past the growing lump in your throat. “I already told you - I’m not going back,” you muttered, barely above a whisper.
Natasha didn’t argue. She didn’t scoff or roll her eyes. She just sat there, hands resting on her thighs, watching you with that quiet patience you hated. She knew you too well. Knew you’d be the first to break…
And you did.
“Is she really that far gone?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, quieter this time.
She inhaled, slow and measured. “She’s unraveling.”
A shiver crawled down your spine.
You remembered it too clearly - the way Wanda’s power frayed at the edges when the Witch began to take control, the way she trembled beneath its weight, fighting a battle no one else could see. You had been there, helpless as the Scarlet Witch whispered promises and lies in equal measure, clawing her way to the surface mercilessly.
And you remembered the way Wanda looked at you before she lost the fight - eyes wild with desperation, fingers twitching as if reaching for something… for you…
And then—
She let go.
But you held on.
The memory burned through you, a sharp ache settling deep in your chest. You swallowed hard, blinking against the image, forcing yourself back to the present.
“She’s looking for something,” Natasha said, her voice quieter now, almost secretive. “Or someone.”
A bitter laugh escaped you. “And let me guess - you think it’s me.”
She didn’t answer right away. Just held your gaze, steady and unflinching.
You scoffed, setting your meal aside. “I left for a reason.”
“I know.”
“She made her choice.”
“I know.”
Jaw clenched, you exhaled sharply through your nose and pushed off the bed. Sitting felt suffocating. Pacing was better—movement was better than feeling.
Natasha stayed silent, watching as you wore a path into the floor. Then, finally, she spoke, “She’s not just looking for you, Y/N.” A pause, weighted and deliberate. “She’s calling for you.”
Your stomach twisted. Whether you wanted to believe it or not, she was right. And you both knew it.
“You might be the only one who can reach her before it’s too late.”
Kinktober Day 5 | Sexting/Phone Sex - @becs-bunker
FEEDBACK IS GOLD AND APPRECIATED
You hadn’t expected him to text you, you hadn’t expected any form of communication from him but you weren’t really surprised. You had been teasing him all day. Small touches here and there, starting with his fingers. Then it was his thigh. Then there was a time when you sneakily stepped in front of him, hand pressing against his crotch adding enough pressure to make him groan. Thankfully, the other Avengers hadn’t noticed that he made a sound.
It was two am when you got back from the debriefing after the mission and it was time to turn in to your room.
“Take care of yourselves, recuperate and let's prepare to save the world.” It was the words that you had come out of Steve’s mouth routinely after a mission. He knew there was always a next time when it came to saving anyone and everyone.
“Night, guys. Night, Pietro” You whispered your last words, hands sliding underneath his shirt to trace over his chiseled abs before you retreated to your room. And that is when you found yourself reading a text from the man you had teased all day.
“You’re lucky the others were there otherwise I would have bent you over the table and fucked you already.” Pietro started, his words brazen for the fast running Avenger.
“Oh really, I bet you couldn’t even make me come over the phone.” You texted back, tossing your phone onto the bed before pulling down your shorts and climbing under your bed sheets.
He didn’t text you but your phone did vibrate, Pietro’s stupid face popping up. “You taking me up on the bet and trying your luck?”
“I bet you are rubbing yourself right now.” His voice deeper than you expected, his thick Sokovian accent dripping through the phone, filling your ears like soft honey.
He wasn’t wrong, his voice was making you throb and you needed some immediate relief and your hand was as good as any.
“Yup. I guess I should call you Sherlock for that solve.” You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to scoff into the phone. Your fingers rolled over your clit, circling it to pleasure yourself as you heard Pietro speak.
“How about you put your finger in there? Or two?” You noticed his voice drop and you didn’t want to admit it but god he did stuff to you, you could feel your pussy get wet with just his words; you would have to hide that very fact from him.
You complied, two fingers slipping into your wet pussy, hearing a grunt on the other end of the phone.
“Is your dick out, Pietro? You jerking yourself off?” You moaned, over exaggerating the volume of it. You loved fucking with him but your pussy wanted him to fuck your brains out. “My fingers aren’t enough for me and I’m sure your fist isn’t enough for you either.”
“Want me to join you, Princess? Is that what you want? Want my cock in your tight cunt.”
God, he was so good at that. How did he have so much of an affect on you?
“If you’re not in my room in two seconds, don’t bother talking to me.” There was a whoosh of cool air and you knew it was him. It was about to get hot and fast in your room.
Idk who to tag, please tag someone who may enjoy this?
an ! kinda short, but I felt like cutting it there was better, feedback is always a good idea !!!
summary ! The youngest of the Maximoff siblings had lived through heartbreak twice now. First her parent’s death and then her older sibling’s abandonment. She did not know what she had done wrong, only that she searched for them for 3 years before HYDRA recruited her. She joined them when she learnt Pietro and Wanda had came here after leaving her. Now 6 years after their departure, she was in the process of becoming HYDRA’s best asset ever.
part one part dos part tres part quatro part cinco part seis
As if the tension had vanished, The Avengers were all gathering around, ready to land on Ukrainian soil.
“There’s a clearing not far from the border, we’ll land there, and Tony, Sam and Pietro will scout the area. No mistakes allowed okay. You see her, or a Hydra agent, you report back to the team before doing anything.”
The instructions were clear, everyone knew what their job was and their role on this mission. But it felt reassuring for the most part to hear them being said one last time before arriving. Comforting glances meeting stressed stares, the jet would be landing in seconds now.
“guys, we’ve got a problem” Bruce was frowning when he turned towards the team.
They all tried to approach him at the same time, but all of them not fitting in the cockpit, they let Tony and Steve go through, knowing they were leading the mission.
“What’s happening Bruce?” Tony’s usually casual tone was nothing but down to business and it meant naught except for the fact that he was probably freaking out just as much as the others right now.
“There’s lots of movement coming from the border and something’s down in the middle of the clearing.”
The look Steve and Tony exchanged did nothing to help Bruce come down to a decision. They knew what the movement could mean, and it augured nothing good. As for the thing it the middle of the clearing, the scan showed it was still, unmoving, it could be a frightened animal or just a glitch.
“We have to land, Bruce land the quinjet” That was Pietro talking, but his determination was only followed by agreeing hums. Everyone on the team was ready for whatever they would encounter once they had touched down, at least if they landed now, they would just get it over with.
“Pietro-” Steve didn’t have time to reason with him that Bucky interrupted him.
“No time to argue, we could already be down there” The serious look in his friend’s eyes was enough to convince him, he knew there was nothing more he could do to prepare his friends for what could possibly happen once they landed.
He nodded towards Bruce who immediately took matters in hands and started the quinjet’s descent.
Mal had always had trouble at the beginning to control her new-found abilities, she could never fully understand just how it all worked. But after years of training, she now mastered the art of hiding her powers away, she was so hell-bent on keeping them from everyone around her even when she was at the facility and everyone knew what was running through her veins, she never was one to make a show of her powers.
She liked them, they made her feel powerful and important and that kind of feeling could never be replaced by anything else. Although Mal loved being special amongst the ordinary people, she was almost if not all self-doubt.
That doubt had been eating her alive her whole life, because the feeling of power that came after her experiment did nothing to erase the disappointment and questions she had always had.
So, she kept her powers to herself because they were hers, and if she couldn’t have anything else, not even friends or a loving family, at least she had them. They were always there, buzzing at the back of her head or flowing in her veins. They were always there for her, and she intended to keep it that way. They were hers, and she didn’t want the last thing she had to be taken from her.
But there were times, like this one, when those powers couldn’t be restrained. They asked, no, they didn’t ask they just made themselves known and pushed and tugged at Mal’s restrains, pushed and pushed until she couldn’t handle all the back and forth and had to let them out.
Strangely enough those times almost never happened at the facility, she assumed that it was because she had to use them every day, but now with almost three weeks on the run, three weeks without ever using them. She could just feel them take over her body, she knew she was losing control and fast, unfortunately for the young girl, when it all came rushing down, she wouldn’t be able to stop them.
But maybe for the first time ever, she didn’t want to stop them. Maybe they all deserved to feel her wrath, Hydra had made her this way and she was tired of all the control, of all the pain and manipulation. She had been naïve and weak but now that was all over, she knew now, that the world was cruel and offered no relief for people like Mal.
She might not have been able to understand just how much damage she could do, nor did she know the extent of her powers, but she was fully aware of the fight that was about to happen.
The jet had landed, she didn’t seem to recognize Hydra’s logo or colors or anything that had to do with their organization but if it wasn’t them who could it have been. After all, right now, it didn’t matter, those people hadn’t landed in the exact clearing she was in all while pursued by agents just to bring her to safety. She could only count on herself and those people would suffer the same fate the agents would.
Even though she was aware that the moment the agents arrived she would be surrounded, not an ounce a fear could be felt, all that was radiating from her body was power.
The gates opened and her vision immediately focused on the group of people walking down the aircraft. At first, it felt like they hadn’t even noticed her presence, which funnily enough made Mal chuckle because she could have hit them by surprise. But this wasn’t the way she wanted to do this, she wanted them to see what she could do. Not hide behind her mentor this time.
Once they realized that it was indeed a person standing in the middle of the cold and wild clearing, it seemed they stilled. All of them.
As if trying not to scare her away, one of them took two steps forward and was about to talk when a first wave of agents was heard running and shouting from the other side of the clearing.
The buzzing in her veins intensifies at the notion of danger, it sizzled right under her skin and she was trying so hard to keep it there.
Upon seeing the twenty or so guards which were previously guarding the border run towards her, Mal’s resolve dissolved into nothing. Their faces all contorted in anger they sure didn’t expect when Mal started advancing towards them.
The determination in her pace and her aura dominating their fake masculinity, they still didn’t stop because after all, what could a 16-year-old possibly do to them. They should have been more careful.
The shouts of the individuals behind her were unheard and she stopped dead in her tracks, her hands extended towards the dark night sky, The Avengers wished they could have been ready for this.
Unleashing her power into the air felt liberating, the electricity shooting up in the sky in violet-like lighting strikes, just to shoot back down straight onto the group of agents. Her arms tingling from the sensation, it’s like she couldn’t get enough of it, it felt addicting to her. Her power had been locked up for too long in her flesh prison, to let it roam free and wreak havoc was a sight she wanted to imprint in her mind.
Seeing as some of them had been only grazed by the shocks and only a few of them were laying still on the floor, she wasn’t satisfied. When would they learn the lesson, she hadn’t left all those men at the facility because she thought it would be pretty, it was a warning for them not to come find her.
Her arms descending towards the men, an electric flow coming from deep within her crushed every man’s spine. Frying their brains, they fell like flies leaving the snow almost untouched.
The rage and power still clouding her vision and judgment, she turned around ready to show the weird costume-y guys what was waiting for them.
But she surely didn’t expect them to be standing so close to her, all with mouth agape. She thought she could take advantage of the situation when a voice stopped her.
“Amalya…” Wanda’s voice was pure hurt, seeing her little sister kill those men with little to no regret just felt like a horrifying scene for her.
Mal turned to look at the woman and her knees almost gave out from under her when she recognized the two people looking straight at her.
Here they were her so-called brother and sister. Here they were, still looking almost like the last time she had seen them except a bit older. Her eyes watered but she refused to let the tears fall, they didn’t deserve another one of them. She had spent so many nights and days crying for them.
“It’s us Amalya” Pietro’s heart hurt, the only rational thought for him would be to run and hold her for god knows how long, but the things she had just done prevented him from doing so. She probably was scared right now and even if they were family it had been a while since they had seen each other.
Mal felt anything but afraid.
Mal recognized them, but she didn’t know who they were anymore. Who leaves their 10-year-old sister to fend for herself in a poor and corrupted country? The tears were long gone now, the electricity buzzing once more, but this time it was even stronger.
The whole team could feel it in the air, hair going up because of static electricity, Mal’s eyes shining purple, a mist started enveloping her. She felt intimidating. The whole lot of them, they almost wanted to take a step back, the atmosphere way too tense to breathe properly, they all wondered how a teenager could express such dominance.
“Please come with us honey, we’ve missed you” Wanda didn’t have time to utter her words that they went straight to Mal’s core, just like fuel she erupted, electricity crackling all around her, lightning coming from all around her.
She looked at them dead in the eyes, her own filled with nothing, her stare was blank and that’s what hurt the twins the most.
“It’s Mal now” Her cold demeanor matched her tone, not wasting a second more she started the fight back up.
Summary: Your mind will never find peace, for the tales within this compilation offer no conclusions.
Pairing: multiple
Warnings: mind manipulation
Total words: 3,323
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you do not have permission to repost/translate my works or claim them as your own.
Piece Of Mind ᗢ - Running into strangers while on a shopping trip with your girlfriend seems to leave you with a lot of questions. But, don’t worry… Wanda has a way to answer all of them at once.
So Far So Fake ⧗ - Your relationship with Natasha seems to be on thin ice, but when she returns from her mission earlier than expected, that ice seems to start suddenly thickening. (coming soon)
Summary: When a casual one night stand develops into a deeper, forbidden love, you and Wanda try to keep your relationship a secret as you navigate the challenges of balancing your growing emotions with the fear of being caught.
⚠️IMPORTANT ARTHOR’S NOTE: The following story (or following chapters) will not include detailed moments of smut. However, it does contain enough sexual content that I feel more comfortable labeling it NSFW/18+/MDNI. With that being said, read at your own discretion. Enjoy.
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The extremely comfortable bed you were laying on beckoned you to stay put, the weight of the covers over your body engulfing you in a warmth you didn't want to disrupt. It was hard to stay awake when you were so perfectly nestled in like a swaddled newborn. You had to find the energy to toss the covers off of you, though your limbs didn't seem to want to really move at the moment. Yet, with the seemingly loud vibration hammering away on the nightstand next to you, you were being signaled that it was time to get up.
Wait a minute… you don't own a nightstand yet.
You turned your head, the confusion evaporating quickly as you realized exactly where you were. You remember the bar, the attractive woman you knew you wanted the second you were aware of her presence, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. And you couldn't help but smile when you remembered just how successful you were in accomplishing that. But now it was almost six in the morning and you had to get ready for work.
You didn't want to wake her up. The slivers of light sneaking past the curtains to show the peacefulness across her face in the midst of slumber was the best thing you've ever seen. You didn't want to be that kind of one-night stand, being unnecessarily loud, not even being thoughtful of the one who doesn't need to wake up at the ass crack of dawn. No, you were going to be considerate and make a quiet move to the bathroom.
You kicked your feet over the bed, but you still weren't entirely used to the fact that a nightstand was present. You bit your tongue when your leg smacked into the front of the bedside table with a loud thump, and you weren't quick enough to catch the falling lamp, flinching when it fell to the floor with a crash.
A peal of light laughter came from behind you as you stood up, bringing the sheet along with you and using your phone to survey the damage done to the lamp. And, boy, that lamp did not survive that fall.
"I'll pay for that," you said, looking toward her. How does that even happen? The one time you wanted to make a smooth exit and the nightstand wanted to put up a fight. An inanimate object was your downfall this early in the morning and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. "I'm sorry to wake you."
You were defeated.
"Are you getting in the shower?" Her voice was soft with no hint of annoyance in her tone. Was she not mad at you for pulling her out of the pits of her deep slumber? You'd be pretty annoyed that you were woken up by your one-night stand at six in the morning because they couldn't handle the nightstand.
She should at least be mad about the lamp.
"Uh, yeah?" You wonder if that was okay. This wasn't your place, after all. Yours wasn't completely unpacked yet and you didn't want someone as gorgeous as her to see that storage container apartment you got going on.
She moved to flick on the lamp resting on the nightstand that hasn't embarrassed you (yet), replacing the morning sunrise slipping through the closed curtains with a brighter, artificial light. She ran a hand through her hair, getting some of it out of her face, as she sat up in the bed. You couldn’t help but stare at her - the way she tugged those locks brought memories rushing into your mind as you subconsciously brought your bottom lip in between your teeth in a gentle bite. "I'll join you," she said.
"You'll… what?" The smile she sent you at your confusion made your heart skip more than just a couple of beats. "Uh, we just met last night… in a bar, no less."
She raised an eyebrow, though the smile still remained on her face. "We also just slept together, Y/N. It's nothing I haven't seen."
You swallowed the saliva forming in your mouth so hard that it made the actual gulping noise. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment once more as you looked away from her, scratching the back of your neck. "That's fair," you confessed. You looked back at her and laughed as she hopped out of the bed with a smoothness that you wished you had earlier. It would've saved you from a lifetime of embarrassment.
She raced you to the bathroom, making you laugh harder at her little victory yelp when she beat you there. You wrapped your arms around her, bringing her close as you used your foot to close the door behind you.
It has been only a few hours since you parted ways. You walked down the halls, your mind occupied by… her. Her face, her hands, her smile and touch and laugh. You remembered every single second about last night and you just wanted to do it all over. Relive it once more. But you know how a one-night stand works, and there's a high possibility that you'll never see that woman ever again.
"Ma'am." You turned your head on instinct to see someone running up to you, holding a clipboard out along with a pen. "Just need a quick signature."
"What's your name?" you questioned as you accepted the items she was holding for you.
"Jennifer, ma'am," she answered, even throwing a little bow in there. You couldn't help but shake your head with a smile, quickly scanning the paper before scribbling your signature over the line, turning your head to meet her gaze.
"It's nice to meet you," you told her. Your eyes were drawn to something over her shoulder like a magnet to metal, your next words getting caught in your throat when you saw her leaning against the wall, focusing intently on the person she was talking to. You handed the woman the clipboard (her name was irrelevant now, you couldn't think of anything coherent at the moment) as you walked past her like a zombie ambling toward fresh brains.
You reached Wanda, looking at the agent she was conversing with. It only took mere eye contact for the man to send you a stiff nod before immediately walking away, turning to look at her.
"What're you doing here?"
She crossed her arms over her chest, almost just as confused as you were. "I work here." The crease in between your eyebrows only deepened with more confusion. "I'm an Avenger." Even with her clarification, it didn't make it any more clear to you. You don't remember her name on the list. She must be a new recruit. "Why are you here?"
You opened your mouth to answer but were interrupted when someone stepped up to you.
"We're ready for you, Director." You looked at the older man, reading his name badge as Phil Coulson. That answered her question for you, your eyes going back to Wanda to see the raised eyebrow and tight lips.
"Director?" She looked away from you, getting herself lost in thought. "Well, that's not going to work well."
You cleared your throat, your jaw clenching tightly as you turned to the agent. "Thanks, Coulson. I'll be there in a moment."
Coulson sent you a nod and left the two of you be, turning back to Wanda. As she tried to wrap her mind around what was happening, you waited for Coulson to be completely out of earshot.
"Why didn't you tell me that you're a new Avenger?"
"Probably the same reason you didn't mention that you're the new director," she countered.
You opened your mouth on instinct to rebuttal but closed it when you realized she had a point. You groaned, running your hands down your face. This is the worst-case scenario. It would've been better if you never saw her again compared to this, though just the thought of that pulled your heartstrings. You don’t really know how to imagine never meeting her.
"You're the boss," she said, once again pulling you out of your thoughts, "aren't you supposed to at least know who the Avengers are?"
"They sent the files, but I didn't read them," you confessed. "I wanted to meet the team members face to face." You did, however, read the names on the files and she wasn't there. You said her name so many times last night, you'd definitely remember seeing it on a folder. She must've been a last-minute addition, SHIELD not having enough time before your first day to compile and send over a file.
At the same time, would you have been able to stop yourself from approaching her at the bar? No. The way her lips formed a pout made you want to do anything to wipe that away, so you would've ignored logic and spoken to her. You still would've made her laugh. You still would've made her smile for the first time in what seemed like forever. You still would've made her moan and pant your name as your skins melded together underneath her blankets, lightly scratching her back as she made you-
"Where did you just go?" She snapped you out of your thoughts again, but this time you were a bit upset about it. Your cheeks flushed red, burning hot. The smirk on her face told you that she had an idea, but you shook your head and ignored her question.
"You are aware that this… thing can't happen anymore, right?" As your finger bounced in between you and her, her smile expanded, tinged with a mischievous glint that hinted at something devious lurking beneath. You found yourself needing to bite your tongue harshly in hopes that the pain would distract you from the warmth igniting in your gut.
"Obviously," she assured you and you sighed with relief. Now that the two of you were on the same page, maybe now you can stop stressing out about it. You knew for certain that you wouldn't be able to hold back when it came to her, so it was nice to see that at least one of you had some self-control. Quite honestly, the only thing stopping you from dragging her to your office and feeling her right then and there was the fact that you don't exactly know where your office was located just yet.
Maybe someday…
No. The relationship between you and Wanda Maximoff could not come to be. No matter how strong the connection, how tempted you’d be, it could never come to fruition. The unfortunate reality was that your relationship with the woman standing in front of you had to end before it even began.
That thought abandoned your mind when you watched her teeth catch her bottom lip, raising an eyebrow at you seductively. Your breath caught in your throat and your thoughts immediately became a jumbled, contradicting mess. She laughed as you finally managed to utter, "You're going to get me fired, Wanda."
"Director." You didn't turn, losing yourself in her eyes. You wanted to touch her. To take her face in your hands and connect your lips right at this moment, in front of everybody. New job be damned. And the annoyance that demanded your attention cleared their throat impatiently.
You turned your head to look at the addition to your conversation to see Coulson standing there, nodding his head at Wanda, a sign for her to skedaddle.
"I'll see you later, Director," Wanda hummed as she walked away, your head turning back so you could watch her leave.
"It's been more than a moment," Coulson pointed out, forcing yourself to tear your eyes away from Wanda's retreating figure to look at him.
You blinked. "What?"
"You're late," he clarified.
Your eyes widened. "Oh, right! What are you waiting for, Coulson? Let's get a move on." You gestured for him to lead the way, patting him on the shoulder when he rolled his eyes and turned his back on you.
"It's a good thing you're getting acquainted with the Avengers," he said as you walked alongside him. "You two know each other?"
"Not at all," you stated.
He hummed thoughtfully, clearly not believing you in the least bit. "That was Wanda Maximoff. She's got magic hands."
The snort that escaped your nose was involuntary. "She does indeed." You hadn't realized you said it until Coulson stopped moving to stare at you, his eyebrows bunched together, bewildered. You cleared your throat, your back straightening as you clarified, "That's what she told me earlier. She just didn't really tell me what she meant by it." You were right, there is no longer any more doubt in your mind that she was definitely going to get you fired. "Why don't you tell me more about Maximoff?" Though phrased as a question, he knew it wasn't one.
He continued forward and you easily matched his speed, walking alongside him. "She has a long list of powers," he started. "Telekinesis, energy and mind manipulation, and she can read thoughts. I’m willing to bet there’s more, she just hasn’t unlocked them yet."
You stopped walking this time, trying hard to keep your composure. "Mind reading?" So, she definitely knew what you had been thinking about earlier. "That's… nice to know."
Observing your reaction to the subject being discussed, he quickly decided to switch gears. “Well, she’s not the only one on the team. There are other Avengers you have yet to meet. We’ll start with…” He gestured for you to follow as he led you through a set of doors, revealing a sprawling laboratory that occupied most of the floor.
Pausing at the entrance, you watched as Tony Stark worked intently on a holographic keyboard. It was only when Coulson began walking deeper into the lab that you followed, cautiously advancing until you stood in close proximity to the brilliant inventor.
"Who's disturbing my bubble?" The hologram vanished as his fingers moved away from it, turning his head to look at you.
"New director," Coulson explained. "We're just making the rounds and you're the first stop."
"Y/N," you extended your hand towards him. His gaze shifted from your hand to your eyes and, in that moment, it became abundantly clear that he was not going to meet the handshake. You quickly withdrew your hand and let it fall to your side.
"Tony Stark, but you already knew that." He smiled at you, though it seemed a bit forced as his eyes assessed you from head to toe, sizing you up. "You're a bit young to be a director of something like SHIELD, aren't you?"
You couldn’t help but feel a surge of annoyance at his comment. Without thinking, the words slipped out before you could sensor yourself, "You're a bit old to be playing dress-up, aren't you?" As soon as your response left your mouth, you realized the potential consequences of your remark. Insulting the man who was throwing a lot of his money into this agency was not the smartest move. All it would take is a simple “adios” and you’d be out of a job.
To your surprise, Tony simply smiled widely and extended his hand toward you. Stunned, you accepted the strong handshake. “It’s refreshing to have someone bite back," he said, glancing at Coulson. "Take notes."
"Yes, sir," Coulson agreed, nodding with a forced smile. You couldn't help but grin, crossing your arms over your chest.
As Coulson gestured for you to follow him, you lingered for a moment to watch Tony go back to work, biting on a pen when he watched a small simulation of his suit taking on a battle, to which the suit loses. He huffed in exasperation, taking the pen out of his mouth and tossing it aside. It made you wonder how long he had been tirelessly working on this project.
"I know someone who specializes in nanotech if that's something you're interested in," you confidently suggested, capturing the billionaire's attention. Ignoring Coulson’s constant attempts to guide you away, you continued, "I can introduce you to her if you'd like."
A spark of curiosity ignited in Tony’s eyes as he reached for the pen he had just thrown, handing it to you along with a scrap of paper. With a grin, you swiftly scribbled down the specialist’s name, eager to offer a valuable connection. Tony glanced at Coulson with piqued interest, “Where’d you find this one?”
“She found us, sir,” Coulson replied, monotonously, before subtly guiding you out of the lab with a hand on your back. "The rest of the team would be a lot easier to please."
"I'm not looking to please them." Well, not all of them, at least. There was one person you found yourself wanting to please more than most. She did things to you that you just can't ignore. "My job is to lead them. I'm not here to make friends." Or lovers, but you refrained from adding that.
"Nice to know," he stated, leading the way into the training room. "Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, meet your new director."
The pair, entangled in a fierce sparring session, paused and separated as Coulson made the introduction. It was evident that they were skilled fighters, evenly matched and fully engrossed in their training. Or they were just taking it easy. Friends normally don’t beat the shit out of each other just for fun. You shook their hands.
“Directors usually don’t properly introduce themselves,” Clint remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he rested his hands on his hips with a heavy breath. “They just read our files and assume they know us.”
“They sent the files, but I didn’t bother with them,” you confessed, shrugging loosely. “Bonds grow stronger when everybody’s on the same page, not reading personnel off of a piece of paper.” Glancing at Coulson, you added, “I’m making this guy walk me around the building to introduce me to the team face-to-face.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips as her arms folded over her chest. “Did you meet Steve yet?” Coulson fidgeted for a moment beside you, and one of your brows quirked up with interest at the sound of her teasing tone.
“I’m sure he’s next,” you replied, a faint smirk lifting a corner of your mouth when the redhead’s smile only grew wider. “I’m sensing an inside joke here.”
“Coulson is a bit of a fan of Rogers,” she explained.
“I have all his trading cards,” Coulson interjected, cutting the conversation off before it went much further. “We should get to it.”
“Can’t wait to see him, huh?” she joked, her grin turning sly as she stepped back. While they returned to their sparring, you and Coulson made your way out of the room.
“All of his trading cards?” you asked. “Do you have them laminated?”
“Each and every one of them,” he confirmed, and you could sense the pride hiding in his words.
He led you into the war room, where Steve Rogers stood, engrossed in a discussion with other agents about an ongoing mission. As the two of you entered, the captain’s attention shifted, and he straightened up, displaying his characteristic posture.
“Captain Rogers, this is Y/N, the new director,” Coulson announced, adopting a more professional demeanor in front of the patriotic hero. Natasha’s description of him being a fan seemed under-exaggerated, but maybe that was the point. You’re relieved to see that the team wasn’t all as serious as Coulson here.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Steve greeted respectfully, offering a small nod from his position across the table.
You pressed your lips together, a mischievous grin forming as his eyes traveled up and down your figure. “I know you all think I have big shoes to fill,” you began, acknowledging the weight of the previous director’s legacy. “Nick Fury was one of the best, but I’m here to bring about change. I’m not looking to repeat history.”
“I can respect that,” Steve commented, crossing his arms over his chest. A slight smile tugged at his lips, and you could feel Coulson’s subtle restlessness next to you. He was clearly worried you might embarrass him.
“What’s your current mission?” you asked, leaving Coulson’s side to join Steve at the table, studying the scattered papers.
“We’re dealing with drug dealers hijacking ambulances for narcotics,” he explained, arranging the papers to give you a better view.
You looked up at him, a hint of surprise on your face. "I didn't expect a big-time Avenger to be doing a simple drug bust," you commented.
"You’re not the only one around here looking to make changes," he said.
You grinned. "I can respect that."
Coulson cleared his throat and you both looked over him. "If you'll excuse us, Captain. We have a busy day ahead.”
"Of course," Steve said. "It was a pleasure meeting you."
"As you, Cap." You accepted his hand when he offered it over the table, giving a strong, brief handshake before releasing you. You walked behind Coulson as you left the room, grinning widely as you moved to his side. As soon as you were clear from Steve's earshot, you spoke. "You're jealous." It wasn't a question, and Coulson didn't show any expression in the statement. What did it take to coax a genuine smile out of this stoic guy?
"Thor is off-world dealing with some other stuff," Coulson said, ultimately ignoring your comment. “Banner has been MIA since the incident in Sokovia. And, since you’re already acquainted with Maximoff, I’ll show you to your office.”
Your heart fluttered at her name, immediately looking away from him to hide the faded blush forming on your cheeks. Why did her name make you feel this way? You had just only met her last night, so there weren't any long-time feelings between the two of you. But just thinking about her is taking away your ability to breathe. You didn’t struggle to follow your tour guide, but you did have trouble straightening your mind. You had hoped these introductions would last longer, giving you more time to avoid having to deal with everything. But without any distractions, you were forced to succumb to the realization that Wanda Maximoff was going to be in your life for as long as you were the director.
"Here." You released a deep sigh when Coulson finally stopped to gesture towards a door, giving you the distraction you needed to catch your breath. “This is your office.” You released a puff of air at the closed door, your name engraved on a plate nailed in place. You couldn’t let the emotions get to you - not in front of Coulson, at least - but this seemed to have made your title a lot more official. “The door’s unlocked.” If you didn’t know any better, that was a passive way of rushing you. “We also left you a little treat as a welcome present.”
Your hand pressed down on the handle, pushing slowly against the door with the agent right on your heels, and you managed to look up just in time to see something in your office that was most definitely not Coulson’s “little treat.” You quickly backed out of the room, bringing the door with you as you turned to face him. A nervous laugh nearly crawled out of your throat, but you managed to swallow it just in time. “I’m pretty sure I can handle this part on my own, Coulson.” The man didn’t argue with you, shrugging and walking away without another word as you slipped into your office. “What are you doing?”
“This isn’t the kitchen?” Wanda sat at your chair, not even bothering a glance in your direction as she casually ate what looked like a croissant (most likely the treat Coulson was referring to). You huffed, glancing over your shoulder as you made your way to the desk. Finally, she looked toward you, a smirk tugging a corner of her lips. “I could’ve sworn it was…”
With every step you took, your heart raced harder and faster. You couldn’t deny the intense attraction you felt towards the woman occupying your desk, even though it seemed so sudden and unexpected. She leaned back in your chair, crossing her legs and taking another bite of the croissant, slow and drawn out as she maintained eye contact with you. You couldn’t help but notice how the crumbs fell onto her lap, biting the inside of your cheek rather harshly as your breathing hitched in your throat.
“Is there something you need, Agent Maximoff?”
She quirked an eyebrow at you, though that smirk still lingered on her lips as she hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Agent Maximoff?”
You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “That’s your name, isn’t it?” you replied.
“It is,” she answered, shrugging as she added, “but it’s a much different turn from what you were calling me last night.”
Her words hit you with surprising calmness, as if she were merely commenting on the weather. You struggled to hide the impact they had on you, the way they made your stomach twist and turn in a way that would make a professional dancer jealous. You had a job to do, and engaging in whatever this was with one of your employees was definitely not part of the job description.
You took a deep, steadying breath and reminded yourself of the boundaries that needed to be maintained. This was the type of position people would kill for (literally) and you didn’t want to blow it away by fraternizing. No matter how tempting the allure of a forbidden connection might be, you had to separate yourself from the matter. “I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression,” you expressed, your voice composed but firm. “Our interactions last night were outside the scope of our professional relationship. Neither you nor myself could’ve predicted this kind of… predicament. As of now, we need to focus on our respective roles within SHIELD.”
Wanda’s smirk faded slightly, and she leaned back in the chair. “Is that what you want?” she questioned, her tone holding a hint of defiance. “To just pretend like it never happened?”
You met her gaze - the way her eyes were soft nearly made you take back everything you had just said - but you maintained confidence in the matter, your expression determined to just rip this Band-Aid off and toss it in the garbage. “We have to be realistic, Agent Maximoff. We can not carry a personal relationship. It’s for the best if we maintain a professional distance moving forward.”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly, and a flicker of disappointment passed through her eyes. “I understand,” she said quietly. She stood up, popping the rest of the croissant into her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. “You want to carry on like strangers.” A friendly smile lifted her lips, and you could feel a tug against your heart at the sudden loss of warmth.
You nodded, standing your ground. “It’s the right thing to do,” you affirmed, but your voice wavered slightly as you cleared your throat. As you spoke, you couldn’t help but notice how slowly Wanda was approaching you, as if she were a lioness hunting a gazelle. Panic fluttered in your chest, causing you to take a small step back. You made the mistake of meeting her intense, dangerously hungry green eyes. “I’m the Director, you’re an Avenger,” you stammered, your confidence suddenly faltering. The realization of the inappropriate proximity between the two of you struck you like lightning as the back of your legs bumped into a couch you didn’t bother to notice when entering the office, stepping to the side so your back hit the wall behind you instead. Wanda was now mere inches away, her presence enveloping you. Panic and desire wrestled within you, making it hard to form coherent thoughts. “I’m your boss. We…” You trailed off, a sharp breath catching in your constricted throat.
At that moment, Wanda’s grin transformed into a wicked smirk, her eyes seemingly penetrating your very soul. The air between you crackled with tension, and you could feel the heat radiating from her body, or perhaps it was the fire building up behind your flushed cheeks.
You were torn between the weight of responsibility and the magnetic pull of desire. The line between professional boundaries and personal longing blurred as the intensity of the moment consumed you both. The electric pressure hung in the air, captivating you and her in a web of conflicting emotions. Time seemed to slow down as you battled with the overwhelming desire and the consequences of succumbing to it.
“We can’t…” you managed to utter, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feeling feeble against the mounting temptation. Every fiber of your being yearned to give in, to explore the forbidden depths of this connection with Wanda. But the weight of your position as her superior, the potential repercussions, and the need to maintain professionalism weighed heavily on your conscience.
Wanda’s smirk only grew more wicked, her eyes gleaming with mischief and raw hunger. She leaned in closer, her breath brushing across your lips as she whispered, her tone dripping with seduction, “Who says we can’t? Sometimes rules are meant to be broken.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between reason and desire. You could feel the fire burning within you overwhelming any remnants of restraint. With a surge of courage, you closed the gap between you, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of her presence. The world around you faded away as your lips met in a fiery embrace, unleashing a torrent of passion that had been brewing beneath the surface. Walls crumbled, and the pressure of responsibility melted away as you both embraced that forbidden desire that had blossomed between you. In that stolen moment, you chose to abandon caution and surrender to the allure of a love that defied expectations.
Wanda didn’t hesitate to return the kiss, making it more intense, more fervent. You were ultimately pinned against the wall by her body when she moved to get closer to you, feeling the tip of her tongue swipe your bottom lip, silently asking for permission, and she swallowed your moan when you granted it. Her hands gripped your hips to tug you flush into her, sparking a burning sensation in your core, and it only seemed to get hotter when her fingers danced up your body, slipping under your shirt to surf the smooth skin of your curves.
You pulled away breathlessly, your head falling back to the wall as her lips landed on your neck with no mercy, licking and sucking any spot she could touch. You attempted to say her name, to bring these overwhelming feelings to an end, but the only sound you could produce was a groan when her nails dug into you to leave crescent-shaped imprints on your shoulder blades.
“You’re not doing a very good job at keeping things professional, Director,” she whispered, her lips suddenly brushing against your earlobe. She laughed, and your stomach tightened at the breathy sound so close to your ears. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were enjoying what I’m doing to you.” You gasped when her knee squeezed itself between your legs, pressing against you in a way that nearly had you whimpering. “I love the sounds you make for me, Y/N.”
“W- Wanda,” you whispered. “Ple…”
“That’s it, baby,” she breathed, laughing gently as she pulled away slightly to meet your gaze. Her eyes were dark with desire, hooded by a smoldering intensity that mirrored your own. “Tell me what you want.” She smirked, thoroughly enjoying this moment. “Do you want this?” She picked her knee up higher, pressing into you harder, causing your body to jerk forward at the feeling of her touch. Everything inside of you burned painfully, desperately. One of her hands descended across your spine, bringing it around to drag a finger down your gut until it reached the hem of your pants. Chills covered your arms when you felt her dive in without a second thought, an inhuman sound getting caught in your throat. The wide smile crawling on her face told you she found exactly what you wanted.
The sound of a knock on the door shattered the fragile bubble of intimacy that had enveloped you and Wanda. Time seemed to slow down as she moved away from you, your hearts pounding in sync. The handle turned, and your chest tightened with a surge of panic, fearing that your secret would be exposed.
With a casual nonchalance, Wanda stepped aside, effortlessly transitioning into a composed state. She sauntered over to the couch you had already forgotten about, settling herself as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, you seemed to struggle to regain your composure, attempting to mask any signs of the passionate encounter that had just taken place.
The interrupter entered the room without a second knock, Phil Coulson pausing at the door when his eyes landed on Wanda before they flickered to you. He cleared his throat, crossing his hands in front of him as he said, “Am I interrupting something?”
“Just a meeting, Coulson,” you claimed confidently, fully collected at the sight of your deputy, raising an eyebrow at him as you folded your arms over your chest. “We just finished.”
“Not really,” Wanda countered, and you didn’t need to look at her to know there was a teasing smirk faintly tugging a corner of her lips, “but I’m more than willing to wait to thoroughly finish later on, Director.” You managed to fight the shivers that rode your body, but the chills that erupted across your spine were a different story. You wondered if Coulson could hear the way she calls you Director, or if it was all in your head. She stepped into your field of vision when she made her way toward the door, giving Coulson a happy smile as she rested her hand on the door handle. She looked at you over her shoulder, and you could feel your cheeks flush when you saw the darkened look in her eyes.
The door seemed to echo when she closed it behind her, sealing you and Coulson in the room. His words cut through the lingering tension, bringing your attention back to him. “I apologize for interrupting, ma'am,” he began, his voice laced with urgency, “but we have a bit of an emergency.” He stepped closer, holding a tablet that illuminated with an image on the screen. “It seems that Thor’s notorious brother, Loki, has returned to Earth.”
The weight of the situation settled upon you, dispelling the remnants of desire and reminding you of your responsibilities as a leader. As Coulson played the video, you watched a seemingly ordinary scene: Loki calmly walking down a sidewalk. It felt odd to watch. Loki’s presence seemed to always bring a catalyst for chaos and destruction, so you find it difficult to believe that his return could just be taking a stroll, enjoying the sunshine.
Coulson’s gaze met yours, and you could see the faint colors of concern clouding his eyes. “We need to assess the situation and determine his intentions,” he expressed. “While it may seem inconspicuous now, we can’t underestimate the threat he poses.” The memory of Loki’s previous misdeeds lingered in your mind, a vivid reminder of the destruction he had wrought. It was clear that immediate action was necessary to prevent another catastrophe.
“I don’t want to waste time waiting for him to make a move,” you declared, your arms crossing firmly over your chest. Your gaze shifted back to the tablet, a sense of urgency seemingly squeezing your heart. “Loki didn’t return just to enjoy the scenery. Bring him in.”
Coulson nodded, tucking the tablet under his arm. “I’ll mobilize our resources and initiate the necessary protocols,” he affirmed, determination steeling his expression. “We’ll do everything in our power to locate and apprehend Loki swiftly.”
You strode purposefully past him, making your way to your desk. With a swift motion, you brushed away the loose croissant crumbs from the chair before settling down. As you took your seat, your voice carried an air of authority, “I trust you understand the importance of conducting this mission covertly.” Your attention moved away from the man standing in front of the door to one of the papers resting on the surface of your desk. “We cannot afford to have the public become aware of Loki’s presence, not after the chaos that ensued during his previous visit to our planet.”
He nodded in agreement. “I will assemble a team that can operate discreetly,” he replied.
“Make sure Maximoff is included in the roster,” you stated unequivocally, your voice firm and decisive as you reached for a pen.
Coulson hesitated, stepping forward to stand on the opposite side of your desk. He cleared his throat, attempting to voice his concerns, but you were quick to shut him down, “She may be fresh, but, from what you’ve told me about her, her powers have the potential to match Loki’s.” Your eyes locked onto his, and the next words that came from your mouth held a hint of a challenge. “Did you mislead me about her abilities, Deputy Coulson?”
His head shook vigorously. “No, ma'am,” he responded quickly, his tone filled with conviction.
“Then what seems to be the problem?” you pressed, a brow arching with curiosity.
He squirmed under your scrutinizing gaze, his discomfort palpable. “She hasn’t fully gained the trust of the others,” he claimed.
A smile played at the corners of your lips as you leaned back in your chair, assessing Coulson intently while tapping the tip of the pen against your palm. “This mission presents the perfect opportunity for her to earn that trust,” you countered. “I don’t recall my orders being up for debate.”
“Understood, Director,” he responded, resolved. You could see the way his jaw tightened in irritation, but you chose to overlook it as he added, “Agent Maximoff will be included in the mission.” You nodded, acknowledging his commitment, and watched as he walked away, disappearing through the closing door.
As soon as the door clicked shut, you released a heavy sigh, feeling the full weight of being director bearing down on you. Exhaustion crept through your body, and you sank deeper into your chair, running a hand over your face in an attempt to dispel some of the weariness that had settled upon you. You tossed your pen back onto the desk when a realization dawned on you…
Summary: After decades of being HYDRA’s most prized possession, you’re finally free and find yourself under the protective eye of the Avengers. But with a piece of one of the Infinity Stones embedded into your heart, you’re never truly safe…
Pairing: Wanda x Reader
Warnings: mentions of death, mind control, panic/anxiety attacks
Words: 22,897
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a/n: The add-ons are not necessary to be read to understand what's going on, but they are very subtly mentioned (the "what if" ones are not canon). You're not missing anything if you don't read them, I promise you. However, the events of the main storyline will be mentioned and will connect with this chapter. It's been a long time since we've been here. If y'all need a refresher, I recommend rereading them. Also, don't be afraid to comment! Your thoughts and opinions always motivate me to write more.
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2023
You took it with you when you left. And, for the longest time, it wandered lost and wounded; the heart that she misplaced. But it didn’t give up. It kept beating, albeit with a dull ache, as it searched for a place where it could belong once again. It encountered moments of despair and moments of hope, but it never stopped yearning for the one who had taken it away. Through trials and tribulations, the heart carried on, fueled by the memories of a love that had once been so strong yet so… incomplete. A love that had never gotten the chance to blossom into its full potential. The scars left by the absence of that love were etched deep within, a constant reminder of what could have been.
And, just when it had almost given up hope, destiny intervened, leading the heart on a path of an unexpected reunion, where it would finally find solace and healing in the most astonishing way.
“Do you know what a… a supernova is?” She couldn’t help but smile at your soft-spoken question, and it was extremely easy for her to turn her gaze away from the night sky to look at the side of your face. How untroubled you were in this moment, relaxed in a state of bliss that was nearly contagious. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm wash over her as she gazed at you, her healing heart beating steadily in her chest. “When a star… A star can run out of fuel, and that triggers a series of- of explosive events.” She could feel her stomach flip when your cheeks stretched against your lips as a smile formed. “It can briefly outshine an… entire galaxy.”
“Tell me more.” Her voice was lower than yours, a mere breath in the scant space between you and her, but she knew you heard her when your grin only grew wider.
“It marks the end of a- a star’s life,” you continued, “but it also creates new… elements that can be used to form new stars and… and planets.” Finally, you turned your head to meet her gaze, and she had to fight every fiber in her being to not close the little distance. “The end of something old, but… the beginning of something new. Like a… a rewritten story.”
No need for her to utter a sound, no need to fill the new quiet with meaningless words. Instead, she preferred to simply enjoy the view, to bask in the beauty of you. Your face, illuminated by the moonlight, gave you an ethereal aura. The soft light of the stars embraced you as if they were shining solely for you, creating an image of a heavenly being in her mind.
“You could be an angel.” The whispered words slipped past her lips before she even realized it, and she saw your expression change. Your features, once warm and relaxed, now creased with wrinkles of confusion. Your eyebrows knitted together, and your head tilted slightly, but a faint smile still lingered on your lips. However, the uncertainty in your eyes was unmistakable.
“But I… I don’t want to die, Wanda…” you said softly, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern.
Her throat constricted almost as tight as her heart did when she gasped lightly at your words, a thin yet obvious layer of tears glossing over her eyes. She found herself inching toward you on the blanket, desperate to get close enough for your nose to brush across hers. “You won’t,” she declared, the bewilderment riddling your features washing away at the determination in her voice. “Nothing will happen to you. Nothing will ever hurt you.” She shook her head, swallowing a mouthful of saliva thickly. “I won’t let it, dove.”
She leaned forward, but her movements were interrupted by the appearance of your hand in front of her face. Her eyebrows furrowed tightly together, confusion washing over her like water, yet it was all dried out when she noticed all of your fingers tucked into a fist, with your pinky standing tall and proud. “Do you… promise?”
A soft smile lifted the corners of her lips as she wrapped her pinky around yours tightly. “I promise I’ll keep you safe.” As you nodded, her eyes fluttered closed long before she pressed her lips against yours in a deep kiss that ignited a fire in her soul. She broke the hold your pinky had on hers to move her hand toward you, the tips of her fingers gently caressing your jawline in a delicate touch. The tenderness of her gesture sent a shiver down your spine as if her fingertips carried a soothing warmth that spread throughout your body.
In that moment, it felt as if time stood still. The world faded away around her, replaced by a sense of peace and security. It was just the two of you, connected by the gentle touch of her hand and the soft, passionate pressure of your lips. And, even when you parted to catch your breath, her fingers remained, eyes locked in a hypnotic trance.
Her touch spoke volumes in the silence, conveying a depth of love and affection that words couldn’t fully capture. It was a dialect only the two of you understood, a silent conversation that transcended the boundaries of spoken language.
“I… I want to stay here. With… you. My Wanda.” Your eyes somehow sparkled brighter in the darkness, making the stars above envy your shine. The vulnerability in your voice tugged at her heart, and a gentle smile graced her mouth. She brushed the pad of her thumb across your bottom lip, featherlight yet warm all the same. “I like… the stars.” Your movement was reluctant, not wanting to turn from her touch, yet you ultimately returned your gaze to the night sky above. Wanda’s heart swelled with a mixture of adoration and longing.
She shifted closer, her body pressing against yours as if to bridge the gap between the stars and your souls. Her voice was barely a whisper, filled with an unwavering determination and tenderness, “Then let’s stay.” She wanted to feel you, to relish in the warmth a single touch brings. She brought her hand back up, tracing gentle circles on your cheek. The chills that overtook your body caused you to shiver underneath her fingertip, and she smiled softly at you when you pulled your attention away from the stars to meet her gaze. “Right here.”
Your lips pursed together, your eyes unmoving as your mind raced through words. “Aren’t you… tired?”
“No, my dove,” she answered warmly, her voice filled with affection. “I want to hear more about the stars.” As her words danced through the air, she couldn’t help but feel her stomach twist with joy. The way your eyes lit up, a radiant smile spreading across your face, was a sight that made her heart skip a beat.
You extended your arm, a silent invitation for Wanda to move closer, and instinctively she leaned into you. But instead of resting her head against your shoulder, she nestled her ear over your chest, finding solace in the rhythmic thumping that reverberated through her being. It was as if she sought refuge in the steady cadence, the comforting song that echoed within your body. When you spoke, your voice was low and husky, “Some stars are so far away that… that their light takes thousands of years to… reach us.” The steady beat in her ear, your lulling voice in the other, she felt a profound sense of calm and tranquility. Every word that slipped from your lips was like a gentle caress to her soul, painting vivid pictures of serenity and peace. “We’re actually gazing into the past… Seeing the remnants of… the stars long gone.”
Wanda’s fingers gently intertwined with yours, deepening the connection between you and her. “Show me some constellations.”
Gently, you guided Wanda’s hand, pointing to the night sky speckled with stars. Your fingers traced invisible lines, connecting the celestial dots to form constellations. “There…” you said softly, your voice filled with a mix of enthusiasm and admiration. “That cluster is… Orion. The hunter. Do you see how the three stars in the… middle form his belt?”
Wanda’s eyes followed your guidance, her gaze fixed on the starry canvas above. She leaned in closer as if trying to capture every detail of the constellations you were unveiling. “And what about that one?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity, as her fingers traced the outline of a different group of stars.
“That’s… Ursa Major,” you replied, your voice holding a touch of wonder, “the Great Bear. The seven stars that form the… the Big Dipper- They’re part of it.”
Gradually, the tranquility of the night and the lilting beat of the drumming in your chest began to soothe Wanda into a peaceful slumber. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her, but in your embrace, she found solace and safety. With a gentle sigh, her eyes slid closed, her head nestling further against you. Your heartbeat, the steady rhythm that had provided her comfort through the night, now served as a lullaby, lulling her deeper into sleep.
Your ancient tales of the stars faded to a pause when you looked down at her, a soft smile tugging your lips as you watched the rise and fall of her chest with each tranquil breath. The sky above continued to twinkle as if keeping watch over the two of you, the celestial light casting a gentle glow upon your peaceful tableau.
Carefully, you adjusted your position, ensuring Wanda was comfortable against you, as you leaned your head against the warm blanket beneath you. You gazed up at the stars that had become witnesses to your love story, and, as the night embraced you both, you surrendered to its tender embrace, knowing that tomorrow would bring new adventures, new constellations to discover, and a love that would continue to shine brightly… just like the stars above.
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Wanda’s eyes fluttered open, greeted by the gentle caress of sunlight on her face. As her surroundings came into focus, she found herself sitting on the blanket, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric beneath her. A sense of disorientation washed over her as she realized the space beside her was empty.
Brows furrowed with confusion, she searched the immediate vicinity, hoping to catch a glimpse of your familiar presence. But all she found were the remnants of the night’s stargazing adventures, the memories still fresh in her mind.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she recalled the warmth of your embrace, the comforting thump of your heartbeat, and the whispered words that had filled the air. Had it all been a dream? The doubt lingered, tugging at her heartstrings. Questions swirled in her mind as she tried to make sense of the situation. Had you left while she was lost in slumber? Was it all just a figment of her imagination, a manifestation of her longing and desire?
As she rose to her feet, determination mingled with trepidation in Wanda’s gaze. She turned her attention towards the front of the house behind her, her eyes scanning the windows in search of a glimpse of you. Her stomach twisted with anticipation, knowing that the next few moments held the answer to her unspoken question.
Leaving the blanket behind, a testament to the fleeting moments shared, Wanda made her way toward the quaint home. Each step felt like an eternity, yet she couldn’t help but feel drawn to the possibility that awaited her inside. Reaching the front door, her trembling hand grasped the doorknob. With a deep breath, she turned it and pushed it open, allowing the familiar creaking sound to fill the air. The weight of her anticipation was palpable as she stepped across the threshold, her eyes daring around the still room.
“Y/N?” Her voice was barely a whisper, catching in her throat as she called out your name. The silence that followed was deafening, echoing the emptiness that mirrored her heart. It threatened to swallow her whole, fueling the fear that she was too late, that you had slipped away.
But then, a sound reached her ears. A clanging noise emanated from the kitchen, a hint of life amidst the stillness. Her pulse quickened, and a glimmer of hope sparkled within her. With renewed determination, she followed the sound, her steps becoming more assured with each passing moment.
Rounding the corner, her eyes fell upon you. And there you stood, amidst the chaos of bubbling pots and sizzling pans, a concentrated expression on your face - seen underneath the smudges of flour coloring your complexion - as you were oblivious to her arrival. Smoke wafted through the air from the burnt bacon that sat on the hot stove, and it was then that Wanda noticed the broken fire alarm sitting next to the sink, silent and useless.
Amusement washed over her as she took in the scene, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorway. A playful smile danced on her lips as she watched you navigate the confusion of the kitchen, your movements an uneven blend of purpose and panic. Pots and pans clanged, ingredients were scattered haphazardly, the nose-burning smell of charred meat… There was a certain charm in the disarray.
She observed your furrowed brow and the occasional look of perplexity that flickered across your face. It was evident that this culinary endeavor was challenging, but your enthusiasm remained unwavering. She couldn’t help but be captivated by your perseverance to tackle something new, even if it resulted in a temporary state of chaos.
As you reached for a spice jar, knocking over a measuring cup in the process, Wanda couldn’t contain her laughter. The sound echoed through the kitchen, filling the room with contagious joy. The sound brought a momentary pause to your frantic activity, causing you to look up and meet her gaze. And though your eyebrows shot up in shock, it seemed as if her presence brought a sense of calm amidst the culinary storm.
An embarrassed smile tugged your lips as your arms fell to your side, looking down while she walked further into the room. “I- I wanted to… surprise you.” You rested your hands on the counter, digging your thumb nervously into your palm. Wanda’s laughter subsided, replaced by a tender expression. “You… You cook for me all the time. I wanted to…” You huffed, shaking your head and, though she couldn’t see it, she could see the signs that your bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “I’m… I’m not very good at it. Maybe I should just… stick to peanut butter sandwiches.”
She rounded the island, placing a delicate hand over your nervous ones upon reaching you as she swiftly flicked the stove top off. “It’s not about the perfect meal, my dove. It’s about the effort and intention behind it.” You looked up at her through your lashes, and seeing the warm smile on her face caused you to relax further. “And, in my eyes… you’re already succeeding.”
Your posture straightened with newfound determination. The embarrassment that had made a home on your face washed away as a bright smile turned that frown upside down. “Will you… teach me?” The words slipped from your lips, laced with eagerness and vulnerability. Wanda’s eyes softened as she looked at the culinary disaster spread out on the counter - from the charred strips of bacon to the watery pancakes sitting on a plate - and she nodded her head in agreement.
“After we clean up,” she offered with a soft laugh, her voice gentle and reassuring. Her hand moved from yours to rest against your cheek, her touch both comforting and electrifying. The warmth of her palm against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but lean into her touch, reveling in the affectionate connection between you. Her thumb moved in soft circles, wiping away some of the flour painting your features.
With a shared understanding, you both set aside the wreckage of your cooking attempt and began the task of cleaning up. It became a shared endeavor, a dance of laughter and gentle touches as you worked side by side, turning a chaotic kitchen into a space of order and cleanliness.
As the last dish was placed in its rightful spot, Wanda turned towards you, a playful glimmer in her eyes. “Now, let the real culinary adventure begin,” she claimed, your face lighting up with excitement.
You watched carefully as she turned the stove back on, the flame flickering to life beneath the burner. She grabbed the pan and placed it on the now-heated surface, the metal hissing with anticipation. With a graceful motion, she picked up a few strips of bacon and expertly placed them onto the skillet, the sound of the sizzle filling the kitchen.
Your eyes were fixed on her hands, marveling at the precision and confidence with which she handled the task. Each movement was deliberate as if she had done this a hundred times before. It was a simple act, cooking bacon, but the way she did it made it seem like a work of art.
As the aroma of crackling bacon filled the air, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for Wanda’s skills. She had effortlessly transformed a chaotic kitchen into a space of culinary magic, and you were grateful to be a witness to her expertise. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you leaned against the countertop, content to watch her work her magic. The clattering of pots and pans, the occasional laughter, and the tantalizing scent of cooking filled the air, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.
In that moment, it didn’t matter that the pancakes had been watery or that the fire alarm had been broken. What mattered was the connection between you, the shared experience of learning and growing together. And as you watched Wanda cook, you knew that every adventure would be an opportunity to strengthen your bond and create beautiful memories. Together, you would navigate the world, supporting each other, laughing at the mishaps, and savoring the delicious results. It was a journey you were excited to embark on, hand in hand, knowing that with Wanda by your side, every day would be a celebration of love, passion, and shared experiences.
As Wanda turned off the stove and stacked the dirty dishes into the sink (once again), a realization struck you. Lost in the mesmerizing sight of her, you hadn’t paid attention to the details or learned anything from her culinary expertise. The awareness brought a sheepish smile to your face.
With an amused smirk, Wanda met your gaze, her eyes twinkling with mirth. It was as if she were reading your thoughts this very moment, knowing that you had been too captivated by her presence to absorb any practical knowledge. She took a step closer, her hands gently cradling your face. She couldn’t help it, thriving on the way your touch warms her insides.
“Why don’t you go freshen up while the food cools down?” she proposed, her voice filled with affection and a hint of playfulness. Her suggestion was accompanied by a tender gesture, her thumbs moving in delicate circles against your skin. The intimacy of the moment made your heart skip a beat, and you found yourself getting lost in the deep emeralds of her eyes, feeling a connection that went beyond words.
You nodded in agreement, appreciating her for just a moment longer before taking the opportunity to collect yourself after the whirlwind of emotions and sensations. As you turned your head towards the kitchen door, you couldn’t resist stealing a quick glance at Wanda, admiring her in that moment. The way her eyes crinkled at the corners, the soft curves of her lips, and the gentle touch of her hands on your face - they were all reminders of the affection and tenderness you shared.
A light laugh parted her mouth after you stole a sneaky kiss before making your way out of the room.
With a couple of fixed plates in her hands and a hint of intrigue in her eyes, Wanda set aside the task of arranging the meal and walked toward the front of the house. The knock grew slightly louder, slightly more impatient, as she approached the door, filling her with curiosity. When she opened it, a soft smile formed on the Sokovian’s lips, yet the unfamiliar face didn’t sate her confusion.
“Hello, dear.” The woman beamed widely, a potted plant held carelessly in her hands. “I’m Agnes, your neighbor to the right.” Wanda’s soft smile strengthened at the friendly greeting. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block! My mother-in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.” She walked further into the house, plopping the housewarming gift into Wanda’s arms. “What’s your name? Where are you from? And, most importantly, what is that fantastic smell?”
“Well, I’m Wanda.”
“Wanda. Charmed.” Agnes chuckled softly as she looked around. “Golly, you settled in fast! Did you use a moving company?”
“I sure did,” Wanda claimed, quickly nodding as she placed the plant on the table. “Those boxes certainly didn’t move themselves.” She wiped her hands across the front of her shirt, watching Agnes lean forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with interest.
“So, what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house?”
Wanda’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly, her mind briefly wandering to you just upstairs. “Oh, no. I’m not single,” she replied, her voice a touch softer.
Agnes raised an eyebrow playfully, her gaze shifting to Wanda’s left hand as she sat down on the couch. “I don’t see a ring,” the neighbor pointed out.
The Sokovian cleared her throat, her cheeks growing warmer. “Well, I- I assure you I’m happily married.” She placed her hands on her hips in hopes of hiding her fingers, though she knew there was no use now. “As a matter of fact, she’s just upstairs.”
“Wands, I-” The two women turned their heads at the sound of your approach, and you froze in the middle of the stairs upon making eye contact with Agnes. Wanda was quick to move toward you, catching one of your hands before you could bother the scar marking your palm to gently tug you down the rest of the way as the unknown woman stood up respectfully. Your lips seemed to glue shut the moment you processed the guest, your hand squeezing Wanda’s fingers.
“The woman of the hour!” Agnes announced, stepping up to you. “Always in the know, that’s me. How are you, dear?” She laughed heartily, and you glanced at Wanda uneasily, who was looking at you with care and concern. Agnes’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she beamed at you with the widest smile you had ever seen on a stranger. “Aren’t you a precious little thing,” she claimed, tapping the tip of your nose in a quick and unexpected move that caught you off guard. “I could just eat you up!”
You took a small step to the side, instinctively trying to protect your nose from further attacks, and peeked over Wanda’s shoulder, hoping to find some sort of shield from Agnes’s playful teasing. “Please don’t…” you whispered, and her robust chuckle told you she heard you.
“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I don’t eat people.” A smirk played at the side of her lips, leaning forward slightly as she added in a low voice, “At least, not anymore.”
Feeling a surge of apprehension, your hand squeezed Wanda’s gently once more, seeking comfort and support. Sensing your need, she cleared her throat, redirecting Agnes’s attention back to her. “Y/N and I were just about to sit down for breakfast,” the Sokovian clarified, her voice steady and composed.
The neighbor’s eyes lit up with curiosity, and she nodded in understanding. “Ah, breakfast! Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt such a delicious affair! I’ll leave you two lovebirds to enjoy your meal.” She winked mischievously, her playful demeanor evident. “But remember, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to knock on my door. I’m just to the right.” You stayed behind Wanda as your eyes followed the retreating woman, watching her pull open the door as she turned to face the two of you. “My right, not yours!” She chuckled softly this time as she stepped out, leaving you and Wanda alone.
The witch turned to you, a gentle expression on her face. “Are you okay?” Her fingers intertwined with yours as you nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Did you want to do something today?” Wanda used her hold on you to tug you to the table, leaving you to take your own seat for a brief moment before she returned with the two plates piled with the food she had cooked moments before the interruption.
“Can… Nat come over?” Your hopeful eyes met her bright green ones almost instantly as you picked up a fork. “I… I want her to see our… home.”
Wanda could feel her posture weaken as her shoulders sagged at your question, her bottom lip finding its way in between her teeth as you turned your attention to the food in front of you. “Oh, sweetheart…” She eyed you carefully. “She’s not in the country, you know that.” The prongs of your fork poked at the slices of toast on your plate, and she could feel the sharp tug of her heart at the sight of your frown. She reached toward you, placing her hand gently over yours to offer comfort. “I know how much you miss her,” she said, her voice filled with empathy. “I miss her, too, but she’s on a mission. We have to respect that.” Her thumb traced soothing circles on the back of your hand, trying to ease the disappointment you felt. “How about we take a walk this afternoon?” she continued, her tone growing more cheerful.
Your eyes brightened a little, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “That… sounds nice,” you replied, your voice carrying a glimmer of enthusiasm. “Just the… two of us, right?”
Wanda’s grin matched yours as she squeezed your hand gently. “Of course,” she stated. “We can even go to that little place we went to the other day. What was it called again?” Her heart skipped a beat when your small smile grew wide, a comfortable knot forming in her stomach when you flipped your hand over to intertwine your fingers through hers. It was the source of the warmth radiating throughout her entire body.
“For… For Art’s Sake?” She couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your enthusiasm, wondering how it was possible for a human to hold more light than the sun. “I… We can go?”
“Anything for you, my dove.” She moved her hand to rest her palm against your cheek in a delicate touch, feeling just how quickly she relaxed when you leaned against her.
With renewed optimism, you picked up your fork and resumed eating, savoring each bite of the delicious meal. As you enjoyed the breakfast together, the anticipation of exploring the neighborhood filled the air, creating a sense of excitement and possibility. In that moment, you knew that no matter what the day had in store, being with Wanda was all you needed to make it special.
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As the afternoon sun painted the neighborhood in golden hues, you and Wanda embarked on a leisurely stroll down the charming streets, reveling in the beauty of your new surroundings. Towering trees line the sidewalks, their branches swaying softly in the breeze. The houses, adorned with charming facades and well-tended gardens, exuded a sense of warmth and tranquility.
A symphony of colors greets your eyes as vibrant flowers bloom in every yard, splashing the landscape with nature’s artwork. Roses in various shades whispered sweet scents, while daisies and tulips danced in the morning light. The air was alive with the melodic chirping of birds, their songs interweaving harmoniously to create a serene soundtrack.
But Wanda’s attention wasn’t captured by the picturesque scenery alone. Her gaze was fixed on you, captivated by the way you eagerly absorbed every detail around you. She didn’t fight the feeling, becoming enchanted by the way your eyes darted from one beautiful sight to another, like a child in a candy store. She smiled warmly, filled with affection as she observed the way your features sparkled with excitement. The gentle breeze tousled your hair, and she couldn’t help but be drawn to the way your face lit up with joy. It was in these simple moments that she found herself falling in love with you all over again.
“Witnessing the world through your eyes is a gift,” Wanda murmured, her voice filled with admiration. “You have an incredible ability to find wonder in the smallest things.”
You turned to her, a bright grin gracing your lips. “It’s… It’s hard not to be amazed when everything around us is so… beautiful.” Your arms swayed by your sides as you walked, and there was no mistaking the intentional brush of your knuckles against hers. “But… it’s even more special because I… I get to share it with you.” Her heart fluttered at your words, warmth swallowing her insides as she looked away to hide the dark red coloring her cheeks. “It’s… surreal.”
Her gaze returned to you, eyebrows pinched together tightly with confusion. You noticed the change, the sign of her perplexity, and it made you pause for a moment as you realized your words might have come across as ambiguous. Your lips pursed together, your eyes bouncing back and forth between hers as you worked your mind to come up with a better explanation.
“I- I mean… being here with you. It’s like a… a dream come true.” You breathed out as you slowly reached out for her hand, looking down to watch your fingers intertwine through hers, and the way her heart skipped a beat was serene. “I never imagined I’d be able to… touch you like this.”
Her brows unfurrowed slightly, the confusion giving way to a glimmer of understanding. Wanda’s lips curved into a tender smile, a mixture of relief and affection shining in her eyes. She hooked a finger under your chin, delicately guiding your head up to meet her gaze once more. “Being here with you feels like a dream for me too,” she murmured lowly, feeling a surge of warmth flow through her arm when you gave her hand a subconscious squeeze. “To hold your hand, to feel your touch… I never thought we’d see the day when I’d be able to do that.” The gentle breeze continued to brush against her skin, almost as if nature itself was encouraging her to bridge the gap between you. And she did.
Using her finger under your chin, she gently steered you closer, closing the distance between your lips. As they met in a soft kiss, the warmth that lingered in her arm expanded, spreading like wildfire through her entire body. Time seemed to stand still, and the world around you faded away. With each lingering touch of your lips, the warmth only intensified, enveloping them in a cocoon of bliss and contentment.
When you finally parted, a shared breathless smile danced on your lips, and Wanda’s eyes sparkled with a newfound certainty. “I never want to let go of this feeling,” she whispered. “Being with you, touching you… It’s everything I’ve ever longed for. And I won’t take it for granted.”
With a nod of her head, you continued your stroll, hand in hand. “I-” You looked down, watching your feet move you forward. “I don’t want to… take it for granted either.” You picked your head up, turning toward her to catch her small smile and twinkling eyes. “Wands… I l-”
“Hey there, Wanda.” Her smile tightened as she turned her head at the sound of her name. The mailman, with a cheerful expression, approached you with his cart in tow. He reached into the cart and retrieved a single card, instantly recognizable by its appearance. Wanda’s heart skipped a beat, and a sense of anticipation filled the air. “Just this today,” he confirmed, extending the card towards you. However, after a moment of hesitation, Wanda reached out and took it instead.
“Wh- Where?” you asked, your eyes fixed on her as the man walked away. She laughed lightly when you eagerly accepted the card from her outstretched hand, your fingers grazing hers. Your gaze shifted to the picture on the postcard, revealing a serene beach lined with people and what appeared to be a castle hidden behind trees dancing on the space between sand and grass. As you studied the image, Wanda’s gaze was glued to you, observing the emotions flickering across your face. “Spain… She’s in Spain.” Your voice was laced with excitement, yet there was a tinge of longing minced in your words. Handing the postcard back to Wanda, you watched as she delicately flipped it over with another soft chuckle, tracing the curves of the handwritten message with her eyes. “Wh- What did… she say?”
“‘Thinking of you from the shores of Spain. Wish you were here to explore the enchantment together. Until then, let this postcard be a glimpse into the magic we’ll experience when we reunite. Sending love across the distance. Nat.’”
“She’s… She’s…” Your eyes shimmered with a mixture of joy and wistfulness. Excitement overwhelmed your entire being, leaving you rendered incapable of speaking.
“She’s thinking of you,” Wanda finished your thought with a soft smile, her eyes filled with fondness. “Nat always had a way of making every place magical, whether she’s on assignment or not.” You let out a contented sigh, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you. The weight on your shoulders seemed to lighten, and watching them relax helped Wanda do just the same.
She extended her hand, a silent invitation to continue exploring the city together. You gladly accepted, intertwining your fingers with hers. The postcard, now safely tucked away in your pocket, held a cherished place in both your hearts as you walked hand in hand.
“What’s… that?” Wanda hadn’t realized she had been lost in your smile once again until you spoke, pulling her out of her reverie. She followed your gesture and looked in the direction you were pointing. In the distance, a lively scene unfolded before them. Tents were pitched, colorful balloons adorned tables, and the sound of music gradually grew louder as they approached.
It was a block party.
A mix of excitement and curiosity bubbled within Wanda as she observed the gathering. Laughter filled the air, and the aroma of delicious food wafted through the streets. Adults of all ages mingled, dancing to the upbeat rhythm and indulging in the festive atmosphere. As you slowed to a stop, her hand tightened around yours, a silent expression of her anticipation and willingness to join in the celebration, before the connection between you fell away. You looked at her, captivated by the longing in her eyes, and took a deep breath before walking forward.
“Y/N?” Wanda tailed after you, her face pinched up in confusion. “We don’t have to-”
“I’m…” You pursed your lips together, contemplating the next few seconds, before saying, “I see your new… friend.” Wanda, momentarily taken aback by your sudden determination, followed your gaze and spotted Agnes among the partygoers. A flicker of recognition crossed her face, and she couldn’t help but have her curiosity overwhelmed with intrigue. With a small nod, she understood your intentions and followed you to the festivities.
As you entered the lively atmosphere of the party, Wanda couldn’t help but notice the subtle glances you would steal in her direction. It reminded her of the way you used to look towards Natasha, seeking her support and comfort in public settings. The memory stirred a bittersweet feeling within her, as she understood the significance of those stolen glances. Realizing that you now sought solace and reassurance in her presence warmed Wanda’s heart. It was a testament to the bond you had developed and the trust that had grown between you. She felt a deep sense of gratitude and a renewed determination to be there for you, just as Natasha had been.
“Wanda!” Agnes, leaving her little group behind, made her way toward you with her signature grin. “And Y/N, a pleasure.”
Wanda’s gaze shifted towards Agnes as she approached, her curiosity piqued by the woman’s loud but friendly demeanor. She quickly glanced toward you, but your eyes were drawn to the neighbor’s nearing figure. She couldn’t see what you were thinking if you wouldn’t look at her.
“You two look absolutely fetching,” she claimed, crossing her arms over her chest with a touch of enthusiasm. “I’m thrilled you joined us! A block party just isn’t complete without the whole block, am I right?” Her laughter boomed, causing a faint twitch in your expression, a subtle reaction that Wanda’s observant gaze didn’t miss. Agnes’s piercing blue eyes seemed to fixate on you, making you instinctively tense up beside the Sokovian.
“We actually weren’t aware that a party was planned today,” Wanda confessed, luring Agnes’s attention away from you and onto her, “but it’s a pleasant way to get to know the neighbors!” Her chuckle was soothing and melodic - a stark difference to Agnes’s - and the sound of it melted away the tension that had gripped your muscles. “How about we explore the food options together? I’m sure they’ll have your favorite…” Her words trailed off as she realized you were suddenly no longer by her side, an instant knot of worry forming in the pit of her stomach. Swiftly, her eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for your familiar presence amidst the crowd.
“You’ve got quite the crafty spouse, huh?” Agnes teased, her laughter carrying a light, playful tone. But she could see panic slowly overtaking the color of Wanda’s eyes and she gestured towards her with a reassuring wave. “No need to fret, dear. I’ll help you find her.”
Wanda gently moved past Agnes, her brain not quite registering the words the neighbor had just spoken. A heavy sensation settled in her chest, constricting her breathing and causing her heart to beat in slow, heavy thumps. The party’s atmosphere was warm and inviting, filled with friendly faces, but she hardly noticed them as she pushed deeper into the gathering. Her thoughts spun in a whirlwind, waves of worries and scenarios flooding her mind. How had you managed to step away from her without her noticing? Where could you have possibly gone in this small space? And, more importantly, what’s going to happen when you bump into a stranger who is overly friendly?
She let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head gently. The party scene wasn’t exactly your forte, and that was one of the aspects she cherished about you. Your preference for cozy nights indoors, where you’d spend time doodling in your notebook or sitting together, engrossed in her favorite sitcoms, had its own kind of charm she absolutely loved. The sight of the lively party, though, had stirred a fleeting thought in her - a desire to proudly present you to the neighborhood, to walk in together with her arm intertwined with yours, showing off the treasure she had found. However, it was a fleeting thought, gone almost as soon as it had surfaced. A brief moment, a flicker in her eyes, which you had perhaps misconstrued for something else.
“Oh! I’m so sorry.” Wanda snapped out of her daze to focus on the woman in front of her, her hands resting on the witch’s shoulders as if she were keeping her up. “I should’ve been focusing on where I was walking!” The woman laughed generously, awkwardly, releasing the gentle hold she held on Wanda. The stranger sighed, shaking her head lightly as she fanned herself with her hand. “I actually don’t know what I’m doing here.”
“I’m starting to feel that way myself. I’m Wanda.” She held out a hand, smiling politely, yet the expression felt forced as the panic that had formed in her stomach only seemed to grow tighter the longer she went without seeing you.
“I’m, uh… Geraldine.” Geraldine accepted Wanda’s hand, giving her a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Say, I’m pretty new to town and I-” She interrupted herself when she noticed the lack of attention she was receiving from Wanda, an eyebrow raised slightly with curiosity as she watched the Sokovian’s eyes dart around the party behind her. “Are you-” She maneuvered her way to get in front of her, cutting off her line of sight to gain her attention. “Are you looking for somebody?”
“What?” Wanda blinked, focusing her gaze to meet Geraldine’s. “Oh, yes. My wife.”
“Your wife?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “I lost track of her a few minutes ago and I’m just worried she might be…” Wanda’s voice faded as her gaze landed on you. You were seated at a picnic table with Agnes beside you, positioned at your preferred distance. The sight of you began to untangle the knot in Wanda’s gut. Her yearning to be closer to you was palpable as she watched you dig your thumb into your palm while Agnes chatted with you. However, she wondered if the neighbor’s words were even registering with you.
Agnes picked up a fry between her fingers delicately from the plate in front of her. “So, what made you and your wife move to our charming little town?” You blinked, muscles freezing as if you hadn't expected her to break the silence. Your eyebrows knitted together as you processed her sudden question, a hint of uncertainty playing on your features. Your mind worked quickly, trying to recall the answer to this seemingly straightforward icebreaker. A slight unease settled in as you searched for the words. You pushed your thumb into the scar riddling your palm slowly, breathing out deeply through your nose as you focused intently on the empty space before you. Agnes watched you for a moment longer, chewing thoughtfully. It didn’t seem like you had any intentions of answering the question. Hell, it didn’t seem like you had any intentions of talking at all. There had to be something Agnes could do to make you more comfortable around her. She leaned back, her wide grin shrinking to a softer, warmer smile. “No pressure, dear,” she assured, sliding the plate closer to you. “Are you hungry?”
For a fleeting moment, your gaze moved towards the food before you raised your head to lock eyes with her, a spark of curiosity coloring your irises. As her nod of encouragement came, your fingers moved, and by some accident, they brushed against Agnes’s. The connection was brief, but it sent a puzzling warmth flowing through you as your muscles locked. She moved her hand as she cleared her throat, and that managed to pull you out of your panic state. You grabbed a fry, bringing it to your mouth to let the salty flavor dance across your tongue. A sensation of ease embraced you at the taste, your shoulders falling as you relaxed. However, as you reached for another, the plate seemed to move away from you, as if you had unintentionally pushed it. Confusion knitted your brows together as you looked up at Agnes, only for a tightness to return to your muscles at the sight of her crooked smile.
“How about we indulge in a little game?” she proposed, keeping the plate - complete with a hotdog, though your attention was riveted on the fries - closer to herself. “I’ll happily provide you with more of these,” she gestured toward the food, “in exchange for an answer.” You found yourself chewing on the inside of your cheek, your gaze darting quickly across the party as you searched for Wanda in a moment of unease. Unable to locate her, you relented, nodding in agreement with Agnes’s offer, a subtle grin of satisfaction gracing her features.
“I-” You cleared your throat, a bit of discomfort lingering as you gathered your thoughts. “We… We were looking for a… change. A quieter place to… to settle down.” Your eyes flickered toward Agnes before your hands found their way onto the table, tracing an idle pattern with your nail across your palm.
Agnes nodded appreciatively as if you had just shared a fascinating tidbit. “Ah, the quest for a peaceful haven. It’s something we can all relate to. Westview is the perfect place for that.” Her lips curled into a knowing smile as she noted your subtle interest in the plate, the way you’d look at it from the corner of your eyes. “A deal’s a deal.” She inched the food closer to you, her chuckle soft as she observed the way you eagerly reached for another fry. Leaning in slightly, she added, “Have the two of you explored the town a bit? Discovered any hidden gems I ought to be aware of?”
Your enthusiasm surged, and a radiant smile painted your face as you eagerly nodded. “We found a little… art museum,” you began, your gaze lifting to meet Agnes’s, where you found her typically piercing blue eyes now soft and gentle. “It’s… uh, a l- local place.” You glanced around the party once more, your gaze seemingly searching for your other half, but this time it wasn’t in need of comfort. It held an air of secrecy, as if you were about to share a juicy secret with your nosy neighbor. You turned back towards Agnes, your voice lowering an octave to keep your next sentence out of the ears of any bystanders. “I’m trying to… get my art displayed so… so I can surprise Wanda.”
“For Art’s Sake?” Agnes wore a sly smile when you cautiously nodded, her voice suddenly tinged with excitement. “Can you believe it, my husband, Ralph, is the one who runs that place. Isn’t that a marvelous coincidence?” She playfully wagged her finger, adding, “In fact, there’s an empty spot in the gallery he’s been itching to fill.”
“R- Really?” you responded, perking up.
“Absolutely!” She beamed, sliding the plate of fries closer to you. “It’s a charmingly small town, darling, just teeming with delightful surprises.” She leaned in even closer, her tone conspiratorial. “How about we make a little reverse art heist? You and I can swing by your place to grab that painting. Meanwhile, I’ll discreetly pop over to the museum and set it up. By the time you return with Wanda, it’ll be a wonderful surprise waiting for her.”
You scanned the lively gathering, but amidst the bustling crowd, you were still incapable of locating Wanda. A nagging thought in the back of your mind urged you to seek her out, to share the scheme you were hatching. After all, she was your confidant, your partner in navigating life’s twists and turns. Yet, here you stood at a crossroads, torn between the instinctual desire to include her in your plans and the wish to keep the surprise intact.
Agnes had a fleeting concern that you might change your mind as moments stretched in silence, so imagine her surprise when you finally nodded, returning your gaze to her with newfound determination. “Okay…” As you began to rise from your seat, it became clear that there was no room for her to do or say anything else; you had made up your mind, and you fully expected her to follow your lead.
To her credit, she did indeed follow. And, soon, she found herself standing in front of a map of the world hanging up in your living room. A few postcards were pinned to it, marking the locations from which they were presumably sent, although the pictures on the front held no names of the states. Agnes, being the nosy neighbor she is, couldn’t help but sneak a peek at what was written on the other side, but the sound of you descending the stairs quickly made her abandon her attempts.
“I… I’ve got it.” You presented a canvas as you looked toward her, your eyes landing on the map she was standing in front of. You made your way over to it, reaching into your pocket and leaning the artwork against the wall. She watched with curious eyes as you pinned a new postcard over Spain, now totaling four in all. “We can… We can go now.” You picked up the painting as you turned to leave, but her curiosity got the better of her.
“Who are they from?”
“Nat.” You looked at the map, your expression briefly clouded by sorrow. “She’s… on an assign- mission. But she’s going to take me and Wanda to… see the world when she’s done!” A grin spread across your face, eyes lighting up with excitement as you pointed at the postcard you had just pinned. “She’s in… Spain right now. She’s tracking down a… a rogue agent.”
Agnes tilted her head to the side as she looked at you. “Who’s Nat?”
“Natasha,” you expressed, meeting her gaze, “Romanoff. She’s…” Your smile turned rueful. “She’s my mom. I- I miss her… all the time, but… she’s doing her job. And her job… It’s important.” She watched as your gaze quickly shifted back to the card on the wall, your lips caught between your teeth. There was a sense of innocence about you that Agnes almost found endearing, a childlike wonder that time hadn’t managed to erase.
“Well, this painting isn’t going to hang itself, dear!” she declared, extending her hand. “May I?”
You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek as you stared at her opened palm. It was as if you had momentarily forgotten the plan altogether, pulling the painted canvas against you to prevent Agnes from reaching it. She released an impatient sigh but maintained a small, warm smile as her hands fell away. “Do you… Be- Be careful with it,” you quietly pleaded, passing the artwork to her. You felt a momentary tension in your muscles as her fingers brushed lightly across your knuckles. Yet when she pulled away, a perplexing warmth flowed through your veins, leaving you somewhat bewildered and frozen.
She rewarded you with a radiant grin. “I’ll be extremely delicate with it,” she assured you. “Give me an hour.” She passed you to make her way toward the door, pulling it open before glancing back over her shoulder. “It’ll be perfectly set up by then.” With a wink, she vanished behind the closing door, leaving you frozen with deep breaths to steady your racing heart…
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“There you are!” Wanda’s voice resonated with relief the moment you joined her. If that wasn’t enough to convey her emotions, her arms wrapping around you in one of the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced certainly did the trick. “Where did you wander off to?” She pulled back slightly so she could look into your eyes, yet her wrists still lingered on your shoulders with the tips of her fingers dancing across the bottom of your jaw.
“I, uh… I- I was with-” You attempted to explain, but your words were interrupted.
“Sorry, Wanda, but I can’t seem to find her anywhere.” A newcomer approached, and you turned to regard her, eyebrows knitting and head tilting slightly with curiosity.
“Geraldine, meet Y/N.” Wanda introduced you with evident pride, her posture radiating confidence. “Y/N, this is Geraldine. She’s new to Westview, too.” Geraldine extended her hand, but you only glanced toward Wanda, eyes pleading for assistance. She chuckled softly, intertwining her arm with yours and pulling you closer. “Thank you for your help, Geraldine, but I think we should be heading home,” Wanda remarked, steering you away before any further conversation could ensue. You felt a mixture of relief and lingering uncertainty.
“You… We should’ve stayed,” you ventured, clearing your throat as Wanda continued to walk down the sidewalk, her arm still linked with yours. “They- You were making… friends. Why not stay… hang out?”
She looked at you for a brief second before saying, “I’m quite tired. You know someone can only withstand so much social time before getting burned out.” She smirked, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Besides, I’d much rather cuddle on the couch with you and get some TV in.”
“Are you… really tired?” you questioned, looking down at the way her arm wrapped through yours. “Are we really going… home?” You picked your head up to meet her gaze, and you had trouble fighting the smirk teasing your lips when you saw the way one of her eyebrows was quirked.
“Why?” Her voice held a hint of playful skepticism.
“Can… Can we still go to the art gallery?” You straightened your form just slightly, yet it gave you the confidence to continue, “I- I heard that there’s a… a new piece there!” You flashed her a wide smile, one she always had a hard time saying no to, and she chuckled softly, knowing exactly why you were giving her that grin.
“Of course, Y/N,” she expressed, “but let’s take the long way there, shall we?”
The charming art museum came into view not long after, filling you with overwhelming excitement. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you courteously held the door open, allowing Wanda to step inside before you.
Once again, the museum appeared just as it had before, but that didn’t diminish the sense of awe that washed over you, reminiscent of the very first time you’d set foot in this place. And, as before, Wanda paid no attention to the art on display. After all, why would she when the most beautiful artwork she’d ever bear witness to was holding her hand?
Then she saw it. And, when she did, she couldn’t seem to look away.
The painting presented an enthralling tapestry of colors and forms, orchestrating an enchanting ballet where lines and edges converged and blurred, weaving an almost dreamlike quality into the portrait. At the heart of the canvas stood a solitary figure, radiating an air of enigma and power. Her hair cascaded around her like a fiery halo, and her expressive eyes held a deep emerald hue that seemed to move, capturing the endless ebb and flow of emotions.
The indistinct strokes that shaped her features conveyed an evasive allure, as if she were in an everlasting state of metamorphosis, perpetually shifting between an array of sentiments. Behind her, a blend of hues swirled into existence, employing a rich combination of reds and blacks. This vivid palette created an illusion of chaos and magic, as though the very essence of reality was bending and undulating in response to the figure’s presence.
It was clear that she had momentarily lost her ability to use her lungs, her breath having been caught in her throat the moment she laid eyes on the painting. However, when you gently squeezed her hand - as if you were reminding her that she was actually awake - it brought her back to reality. She quickly glanced at the plate beneath the artwork…
“The Scarlet Sorceress”
Y/N Maximoff
…and in an instant, her gaze locked onto yours. “Y/N,” she gasped, her eyes wide with astonishment. “H- How?”
You cleared your throat, feeling a sudden wave of nervousness under her intense gaze. “I- I can’t cook… for you, Wanda,” you stammered as her focus returned to the painting, “but I can… I can paint for you.” Your eyes stayed fixed on the side of her face, noting the subtle part of her lips and the sparkling of her eyes as they remained locked on the artwork as if it were the only thing in the room. “I just- I wanted to… surprise you,” you added quietly, but as she continued to remain silent, your anxiety grew. “Is it… too much?”
“Absolutely not,” she quickly declared, turning her head to focus her gaze on you. “It’s… beautiful, Y/N.” Bringing your intertwined hands up, she pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, causing the anxious knot in your gut to begin to untie. “It’s the best thing anyone has ever done for me.” Her smile illuminated the green hues in her irises, making them even more vibrant. “I love it.”
“I… didn’t name it,” you whispered, and she followed your gaze back to the painting as she pulled you closer to her. “But it… fits.” Your smile nearly matched Wanda’s brightness as the two of you stood there for a while longer, because at that moment, nothing else seemed to matter…
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“I’ve made us some hot chocolate,” Wanda announced as she entered the living room later that night, carefully carrying two steaming mugs topped with overflowing whipped cream. A soft smile played on her lips as she recalled the first time you had tasted the drink, the look on your face when your entire body had relaxed the moment the rich, chocolaty liquid touched your tongue. “Remember when-” Her voice caught in her throat when she spotted you on the couch. Your legs were drawn up to your chest, your arms tightly wrapped around your knees, and your thumb pressing harshly into your scarred palm. She pursed her lips, then placed the cups onto the end table, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s wrong, my dove?”
“A- Agnes.” A tightness formed in her gut as the name left your lips, and she took a step closer to you, her jaw clenched tightly, feeling as if it were nearly impossible to pry it open again. You had filled her in on your little “art heist” with the nosy neighbor on the walk home, yet it only left her mind to race through all the possible scenarios of what might have transpired during the time between. Did Agnes make you feel uncomfortable? Nervous? Did she make you feel scared, or even unsafe? The possibilities seemed endless to Wanda, and she was already planning a warpath to the house to the right- “She… She called you my… wife,” you continued, and a small smile tugged at the corner of Wanda’s lips. Her tension eased, and she continued listening as you spoke about the nameplate at the museum, realizing that Agnes had merely echoed Wanda’s own words toward you. “Is… Is that what… we are?” You looked up at her, seemingly melting into her brilliant green eyes as you softly asked, “Married?”
Wanda felt a sudden wave of nerves wash over her as if she had popped the life-altering question right then and there and was waiting for you to give her an answer. She shifted closer, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of you. Her voice, low and warm, broke the silence. “Is that what you want to be?” she asked gently.
Your response was equally soft, tinged with doubt. “We… don’t have rings… And I- I never… proposed.”
“What if I propose?” Wanda suggested, leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees, and her chin cradled in her palms. She smiled at you kindly.
“Is… Is that what you… want?” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with hesitation.
She bit her lower lip, her warm gaze locked onto yours, momentarily lost in their depths. Then, she blinked herself back to the present, moving closer until she was perched at the edge of the table. Wanda gently took hold of your wrists, coaxing you out of your curled-up posture. “Y/N Romanoff,” she began, her voice filled with emotion as she enveloped your hands within her own, “will you marry me?” Now she had popped the life-altering question, and she was waiting for you to give her an answer… which felt like forever. It seemed as if you could only manage to stare into her eyes as if you had lost your voice and didn’t know how else to give her a response. She could feel her heart picking up speed in her chest, beginning to thump against her ribcage as it gradually picked up the urgency to escape this tense silence. She was going to be sick, her stomach twisting angrily. She just needed to hear your voice. She didn’t care what the answer was, she just needed you to break the silence…
“I- I do,” you finally said, granting her reprieve as she visibly relaxed.
And then she chuckled softly as she interlaced her fingers with yours. “You’re not supposed to say that yet,” she teased, leaning closer to you, a mischievous smirk playing at her lips. “You’re supposed to wait for the wedding.”
A glint of excitement filled your eyes as you perked up. “Can… Can Nat come? I want her to… walk me down the aisle.” It was impossible to fight at this point, she lost the smile that had stretched her lips, yet you didn’t see it as you were already on your feet, making your way to the map on the wall. She was slow to follow you, watching as you tapped your finger against the new postcard. “She’s… here now,” you claimed, “so… it should take…” Your finger drew away from Spain, tracing a line towards America, but she was quick to catch your hand with hers, clearing her throat with a newfound nervousness.
“Y/N…” She sighed out, rubbing the top of your hand with her thumb. “We should talk about Nat…” She was hesitant to meet your gaze, watching her fingers twirl seamlessly around yours, her stomach twisting as her nerves caught fire. She needed to address the issue, to face it head-on. There was no point in dragging it out any longer. “Dove-”
“I… I know,” you assured in a hushed tone, prompting her to slowly raise her head, meeting your eyes. They held a kindness, a softness, an aura of forgiveness that unraveled the knot in her gut. And your smile, so innocent and just as forgiving, further eased her. “I… She came here and we… we talked.” Wanda’s brows furrowed with curiosity. She tilted her head slightly but remained silent as you went on, “I’m not… sure how she appeared, but… she told me not to… worry about her. That death is just a… a one-way ticket to a distant star.” Your face reflected intense concentration, momentarily distant, before reconnecting with her as you asked, “Is… she right?
Lost in the depths of your eyes for the millionth time, Wanda found solace in the gentle squeeze of your hand. You looked at her with a hopeful expression, waiting for an answer. “She is,” she whispered, nodding solemnly. Using your grip, she tugged you closer, savoring the warmth as your arms instinctively wrapped around her waist. “She got taken away, but it doesn’t mean she’s gone forever.”
Your lips pressed together in contemplation, your narrowed pupils seeming to gaze through her, despite the mere inches that separated your faces. She resisted the temptation to delve into your thoughts, instead patiently waiting for you to express your feelings aloud.
However, the warmth that had been steadily enveloping her began to dissipate when you stepped back, leaving an icy void. It was evident that you struggled to find the right words to express your feelings, and you chewed the inside of your cheek as your thoughts raced without capturing the depths of your emotions. She trailed after you as you slowly moved past her, making your way to the front door and then stepping out into the yard.
“Y/N….” Her words trailed off as you stopped and gazed up at the night sky, your shoulders slumping. She stood beside you, and despite the countless twinkling stars decorating the dark canvas above, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, your fingers wrapping around hers when you felt their presence at your side, seeking solace in her touch. “I- I wanted… to see her.” You exhaled a heavy, soft breath as Wanda tilted her head toward the sky with you. “Just… Just one more time.”
She gently squeezed your hand, sharing the moment of silence with you as you both stared up at the vast expanse of the night sky. The stars above seemed to twinkle with a knowing grace as if they held secrets of the universe. “I understand,” she whispered gently, her voice carrying a soothing tone. She turned her gaze toward you, her eyes reflecting the starlight. “Would you like to stay out here for a while, just the two of us?”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of your lips, and you spared another second to gaze up at the starry canvas above. When your eyes returned to meet hers, they shimmered brightly. However, the smile that slowly graced your face contradicted the sadness she had expected. “No,” you spoke softly, gently shaking your head. “We… We have hot chocolate waiting for us. I don’t… want it to get cold.”
Wanda began to speak, her voice laced with concern, but you interrupted her.
“It’s…” Your smile held a touch of melancholy, yet your shoulders relaxed as you turned your head back to the bright dots coloring the night sky. “It’s okay, Wands. This… This was my goodbye.” You punctuated your words with a firm, confident nod, signaling a sense of closure and acceptance that enveloped the both of you like a comforting embrace. You flashed her a smile before being the first one to step away, gently releasing Wanda’s hand as you made your way back into the house.
However, Wanda lingered for a moment longer, releasing a long, low breath as her eyes locked onto the brightest star above her. With a soft smile directed at the beacon, she mouthed the words, “Thank you,” while pressing her palms together in a silent expression of gratitude.
“Wands!” Her name rang out, causing her to turn with a soft, amused laugh as she walked through the door, closing it gently behind her. You were back on the couch, your legs folded comfortably beneath you, cradling one of the mugs of hot chocolate in your hands. “I… Thank you for the… the hot chocolate,” you said, tilting your head back against the couch to look at her from an upside-down perspective. You shot her a small smile, your eyes sparkling vividly.
Observing you closely, she noticed the way you watched her, and her expression became pensive. There was something wrong, a question lingering in her mind. Were you truly okay? She knew the profound significance of Natasha in your life, which was why she had initially chosen not to reveal the truth. Yet, in less than five minutes of stargazing, you appeared to have accepted her death with an unexpected ease. Shouldn’t you be more emotionally affected by the passing of someone you regarded as a mother? How could you seemingly be so composed? Furthermore, you continued to carry on the illusion of her being alive even after discovering the truth. If Wanda hadn’t mustered the courage to reveal the reality, how long would you have maintained that pretense?
She cleared her throat, and your eyes attentively followed her graceful movements until she settled beside you. Sitting up, you reached for the second mug, offering it to her. “We should talk, Y/N,” she asserted, her voice firm yet gentle, as her hands enveloped the cup.
“Am… Am I in trouble?” you asked in a faint tone, your arms lowering to rest your drink in your lap.
“No, my dove,” she assured with a soft laugh, removing a hand from her cup to press her warm palm gently against your cheek. Her heart fluttered with warmth as you leaned into her touch. “I just think we need to talk about Nat.” She sighed, her thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. “It’s going to be a very long time before you see her again, sweetheart.”
Your lips formed a thin line, and she felt her heart tighten when she noticed the hint of tears glistening in your eyes. Your next words were barely a whisper, and she had to strain her ears to hear you, “What if I… forget her, Wanda?”
Her heart swelled with empathy, finally seeing the pain and vulnerability in your face. “You once told me that looking at the stars is gazing into the past,” she reminded you, and you nodded in agreement. “So, whenever you gaze upon the night sky and see her star shining with all its might… it will be as if you’re experiencing those cherished memories with her once more.” Her hand tenderly ascended, her fingertips softly caressing your forehead. “You will never forget her, baby. Not as long as she’s up there.”
She managed to wipe away the tear that had escaped its confinement with her thumb, and your subtle but unmistakable smile warmed her heart. Leaning against her, you allowed her to wrap her arm around you, drawing you closer in a comforting embrace. You rested your head on her shoulder, your gaze fixed on your untouched drink. “I’m… I’m going to miss her… forever,” you confessed softly.
“I know, love,” Wanda whispered. “I’m going to miss her, too.”
“Wands,” you murmured. She responded with a low hum, gently rubbing your arm as you took slow breaths. “I… I want to keep… her name.” A smile tugged at her lips as she leaned her cheek against the top of your head. “Is… Is that okay?”
“Of course, my dove,” she assured quietly.
“Can you… Can you fix another problem?” A mischievous glint sparkled in your eyes as you tilted your chin up to meet her gaze. “You’re my wife” - Wanda’s heart skipped a beat at the word, excitement fluttering in her stomach as she eagerly awaited your next words - “but… but we don’t… We need… rings, Wands.”
She laughed softly, a proud grin dancing on her lips as you picked up your left arm to showcase your bare finger. In response, she positioned her hand next to yours. “I can certainly fix that,” she declared. With a wave of her wrist and a shimmer of scarlet light, your once-bare finger was now adorned with a magnificent band. “A beautiful ring for my beautiful wife.” Your chuckle filled her body with warmth as you looked up to meet her gaze once more, but instead of saying something, you inched forward to bring your lips against hers.
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Each night, darkness and silence enveloped the room as bedtime approached. You and Wanda would assume your familiar sleeping positions - she always insists on resting her head on your chest - and she would gradually succumb to slumber, guided by the rhythmic thump of your heart. Meanwhile, you counted the seconds, matching them with her gentle breaths, until you, too, surrendered to the world of unconsciousness. However, it wasn’t the restful slumber most experienced; instead, it was a void of dreams, a peaceful yet empty serenity…
But tonight was different. Your descent into that bottomless abyss was extremely short-lived, interrupted by an unfamiliar yet unmistakable sound, jolting you awake. Your eyes darted around the room, quickly detecting the absence of Wanda on her side of the bed. Panic gripped you for a moment before you threw off the blankets, eager to find the source of the distress. Peeking around the door of the bathroom, your brows furrowed deeply with concern, you found your wife on the floor, clutching the toilet bowl as if it were her lifeline.
“Wands?” You cautiously moved to stand in the doorway, but she quickly raised her hand, signaling you to stay put. You paused, nervously pressing your thumb against your palm as you watched her heave into the toilet. “Are… Are you okay?”
She drew in a deep breath, resting her cheek against her arm for a moment before slowly regaining her composure enough to rise to her feet. Stepping over to the sink, she turned on the faucet, and you remained silent as she washed her hands. “I’ll be fine, dove,” she reassured you in a soft voice, barely audible over the rushing water. “I think it’s just a stomach bug.”
She stood up straight, freezing when she noticed you were no longer in the doorway. Frowning with confusion, she took a step toward the hallway and gasped when she almost collided with you when you turned the corner back into the bathroom. Her laughter was soft, and she placed a hand over her heart while the other gently rested on your shoulder. “I- I’m sorry,” you whispered, your face briefly showing guilt before a smile lit it up. “I… I got you a ginger ale.” With a cup in hand filled with fizzy soda, you extended it toward her. “It almost always helped when… I get an upset tummy.”
“Thank you, my love,” she expressed, her fingers curling around the cool glass. “You should go back to bed. I’ll be okay, I promise.” She placed her free hand gently against your cheek in case her words weren’t enough, but the frown on your face made her tilt her head in curiosity. “What’s wrong?”
You looked away, focusing on your thumb tracing your scar. In a hushed tone, you confessed, “I don’t… I don’t like going to sleep.” She sighed, her eyes softening with sympathy as she placed her drink on the sink.
“Why not, baby?” She added her second hand to your other cheek when it was clear you were hesitating, gently guiding your head up until your eyes met hers. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” You nodded in response. “Why don’t you like sleeping?”
You chewed your bottom lip, taking a moment to gather yourself while the greens in her eyes offered you comfort. The warmth radiating from her fingertips encouraged you to share your feelings. “I… When I… close my eyes now,” you began, your voice barely more than a breath in the quiet room, “I don’t see you… anymore. It’s just… darkness.” Your hands moved to cover hers. “I… miss dreaming.” Wanda regarded you with a soft, understanding gaze. “It feels more like I’m sitting in a… in a dark room instead of sleeping. I… I'm always tired.”
“How long has this been going on, Y/N?” she inquired, her tone tender and empathetic. Her thumbs glided smoothly across your cheeks, and you found yourself melting further into her touch. “You know I could have helped you.”
“I- I know,” you replied, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly. You offered her a soft yet melancholic smile. “I just… I’ve been enjoying sleeping with… you.” Then your eyes widened, and Wanda burst into laughter, her amusement contagious as you stammered to clarify, “Not- Not like that. I- I mean… I do en- enjoy sleeping with you… in that way, b- but in this case, I…” Your expression shifted to a frown, your bottom lip jutting out, a telltale sign that you felt like you’d messed something up.
“It’s alright, my love,” she comforted, her hands sliding down to grip the nape of your neck, a smile growing on her face, unstoppable and unhidden. Leaning closer, her lips brushed across your earlobe, sending a wave of shivers down your spine as she whispered, “I enjoy sleeping with you as well.” Pulling away, she left a ghost of a kiss against your cheek. But her mischievous grin was cut short as waves of nausea hit her, sending her rushing back to the toilet.
You snapped out of your stupor, moving to her side, a hand on her back as you gently held her hair out of the way. “Did you eat… something?” you asked quietly when her convulses paused. “I… I noticed that the milk… went bad.”
She sat up a bit, looking over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “And when did you notice that?” she returned, but you only managed to send her a sheepish smile in response before she returned to the retching.
You had lost track of the time the two of you spent in the bathroom, but the sun was high in the sky by the time Wanda’s sickness seemed to ease a bit, allowing you to finally persuade her to lie down. Your nerves were palpable; taking care of someone when they were sick was uncharted territory for you. Natasha had always been the one to care for you when you fell ill, and she consistently downplayed her own illnesses, refusing your attempts to return the favor. In an attempt to distract your anxious mind and keep busy while sleep remained elusive, you found yourself rummaging through the refrigerator, searching for expired foods to dispose of.
The milk was the first to go.
Your distraction with reading expiration labels had been so effective that you hadn’t noticed the back door open, let alone any knocks, if they had occurred at all. You turned around, attempting to place an expired bottle of salad dressing onto the kitchen island when you suddenly spotted Agnes standing right behind you. Your heart jumped in your throat at the unexpected sight of your neighbor.
“Sorry, dear,” Agnes chuckled. “I’ve been told I can be awfully quiet on my feet!” She shifted to the side, allowing you to place the bottle down, and cast a curious eye over the assortment of perishables on the counter as you returned to the fridge. “Am I interrupting some spring cleaning?”
Your brows furrowed, and you turned to face her again. “It’s… It’s not spring.” Then, shaking your head, you stepped closer to her, closing the fridge door behind you. “Wanda. She’s not… feeling well.” Your lips pressed together as you glanced at the food, uncertain about what to do now that you’d isolated it. “I… I don’t know how to help.” Meeting Agnes’s gaze, you asked, “Y- Have you ever… taken care of someone with a… a bug?”
She laughed lightly, waving her hand as if the question was absurd. And, to be honest, it kind of was. “Of course,” she replied. “Ralph always manages to catch the latest stomach bug going around.” She cupped her hand around the side of her mouth and added with a wink, “Sometimes I’m pretty sure he’s even patient zero, if you catch my drift.”
You perked up, eyes widening with hope. “Wh- What can I do… to help Wanda?”
“Well,” Agnes mused, “I know chicken noodle soup does wonders.” She offered a reassuring smile, but her expression turned quizzical when she noticed you seemed a bit hesitant.
“I… I’m not exactly a… skilled cook,” you confessed, your gaze drifting to the battered smoke detector that had been moved to the table, a reminder of your last culinary adventure. She followed your gaze and let out a sympathetic sigh, placing her hands on her hips as she turned her attention back to you. “Is… Is there something else I can… do? Maybe I… I can run to the store a- and buy it-”
“I can teach you,” she offered with a broad grin. “Trust me, dear, it’s going to make her feel so much better knowing it came from you and not some store.” Her gaze shifted back to the array of food on your counter. “We can use some ingredients from my house. Let me go get them, and I’ll be right back.” She playfully winked at you before turning on her heels and heading out.
She wasn’t sure how long she had drifted into sleep, but the sun still painted a glow through the sliver in the curtains when Wanda opened her eyes. Inhaling deeply, one hand resting on her upset stomach, she stretched the other across the bed. Turning her head, she noted your absence, prompting her to sit up and strain her ears. Muffled voices reached her, guiding her to rise and follow the source of the commotion.
“Exactly like that, dear!” Agnes’s voice, unusually enthusiastic, was more animated than Wanda had ever heard it. Apparently, the neighbor could be even more energetic. “Now, let’s get that chicken into the broth.”
Turning the corner into the kitchen, Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, a soft and slightly confused smile gracing her features as she observed you with curiosity. You were handling a bowl of chicken with deliberate caution, slowly pouring the contents into a pot of bubbling broth. “What’s going on here?” Wanda’s voice broke through your focus, and your eyes snapped to meet hers. It was as if you’d been caught in the act of doing something you’re not supposed to be doing, and the bowl you were holding slipped through your fingers, making a metallic sound as it hit the counter before spinning to the ground. A flush of red spread across your cheeks, and you cleared your throat.
“Y- You…” You huffed. “I- I was making you chicken noodle soup be- because you’re sick and Agnes… She said that it… helps.” Your voice wavered, and the confused smile on Wanda’s face transformed into a bright grin. The tension in your muscles visibly eased when she laughed softly.
“We did lose most of the chicken, dear,” Agnes claimed with a downward glance towards the mess at her feet, “so now it’s just noodle soup.” Your hand reached for a towel resting on the counter, seemingly coinciding with Agnes’s attempt. The tension in the room seemed to swallow you when your fingers brushed against hers, causing a noticeable stiffness in your muscles. That familiar perplexing warmth flowed through you, and it was only when Wanda’s voice reached your ears that you managed to release yourself from the unintentional discomfort once again.
“Thank you, baby,” she said, moving further into the room. “It smells delicious.” You had to look away to hide the blush that burned your face.
Turning to Wanda, Agnes sized her up with an assessing look. “How’re you feeling, Wanda? Y/N told me all about your morning adventures!”
As the two women chatted, you knelt down to address the spill. Their conversation formed a comforting backdrop as you efficiently scooped the chicken back into the bowl and stood up, placing it aside. Gazing into the simmering pot, you pondered if this simple remedy would suffice. It wasn’t a permanent solution, you knew that, but you hoped it might provide Wanda some relief, easing her nausea. Catching a bug was unpleasant, and it frustrated you that you couldn’t do more for her.
The ladies’ talk returned more prominently to your awareness, Agnes’s next words snapping your attention to them. “Oh, honey. You’re not sick.” Frozen, confusion etched across your face like a painting, you locked eyes with Wanda. There was no doubt she was! You held her hair back while she was- “You’re expecting! Congratulations.” Applause echoed through the room, but your mind struggled to process the revelation while your gaze dropped to your fingers as if they were magic, eyebrows knitted together tightly. Could that even be possible?
“Surely I’m not pregnant, Agnes!” Wanda scoffed, shaking her head. “It’s-” The abrupt pause in her sentence drew your attention back, and as you looked at your wife, you noticed her staring at her stomach. Following her gaze, you realized Agnes was right. The small bump that had formed under Wanda’s shirt attested to that. Your heart started to burn. Was this what a heart attack felt like? “Could that even be possible?” Wanda echoed your previous thought in a faint tone.
Whatever Agnes said to Wanda only became more background noise as your mind raced. You hadn’t received the most ideal education when you were younger, but you weren’t ignorant about the basics of human reproduction. You and Wanda? Well, that’s definitely not how that works. However, the evidence was undeniable. The sudden morning sickness, now coupled with the noticeable bump you had somehow overlooked until now, painted a vivid clear picture. Wanda was pregnant - a little bundle of joy was on the way, a child that would be part of both her and you. A newborn. Panic set in. How were you going to take care of a baby when you struggled to care for Wanda, an adult? A child would need much more, unable to do things for themselves. This wasn’t something you had ever thought of before. Children? You and Wanda had just decided to get married a few days ago. Children? You’re not ready. Would you ever be ready? What’s going to happen when the baby arrives? You struggled to talk confidently, would your child pick up on that? Would your child pick up on your other traits? You became uncomfortable with physical contact. Would you be able to pick up your child? You had gotten accustomed to Wanda’s touch, would you do the same for your child? You sure are thinking your child a lot. Because that’s what this was going to be. Your child. Your child. Your-
“Dove.” Wanda’s voice was a soft murmur, and the feel of her breath caressing the side of your neck caused you to snap out of the whirlwind of your thoughts. You turned, finding her unexpectedly close. Her green eyes shimmered with concern, a faint shine highlighting the contours of her face. It was a familiar glow, one you hadn’t seen in what felt like ages. You dropped your gaze to see the yellow hue matching the brilliance of the sun coloring your veins, enveloping your arms. It wasn’t a heart attack. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, her fingers leaving goosebumps as they gently traced your cheeks. “Take deep breaths.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, seeking release. As you looked back into her eyes, your nose tingled, the yellow glow only intensifying. “Wands…” you choked, shaking your head subtly, unable to tear your gaze away from her. “I- I can’t… I-” Your eyelids squeezed close tightly.
“Listen to me,” she urged, her palms tenderly cradling your face. Her touch worked like a tranquilizing agent, pacifying the chaotic thoughts in your mind. “We’re going to get through this together, you hear me? Just the two of us.” She rested her forehead against yours, your noses lightly grazing. “You don’t have to go through this by yourself. You never have to face anything alone, my dove. Not as long as I’m here. And I’m here to stay.” Your eyes fluttered open, locking with hers as she teased with a playful smirk, “You’re stuck with me.”
You nodded, finally feeling the grip of panic loosening as her hands moved down to your shoulders. Her fingers intertwined behind your neck, and the yellow glow in your veins gradually faded. Your racing heart slowed, and you sniffed harshly. “T- Three.”
“What?” She furrowed her brows slightly, a hint of confusion in her expression as she pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, trying to decipher the meaning of the singular word before you voiced the explanation out loud.
You rested a hand against her stomach, inhaling deeply. “Just… Just the… three of us.”
In that moment, an overwhelming wave of emotions engulfed Wanda - joy, pride, excitement, and, at its core, love, all flooded her entire being. Leaning in, she captured your lips with hers in a tender, passionate kiss. It felt as if this kiss was imprinting the moment, sealing your future. She realized now she needed you as much as you needed her, and the two of you were going to embark on the journey of raising this child. Together. And she wouldn’t change that for the world.
“The doctor’s here.” Agnes’s voice cut through the air before she strolled into the room. You instinctively distanced yourself from Wanda, a flush of red coloring your cheeks. Agnes eyed the two of you, folding her arms with a knowing smirk. “Didn’t realize I was interrupting a celebration, dears.”
“Doctor…?” You furrowed your brows, sharing a glance with Wanda, who took your fingers into her hand to give them a gentle squeeze.
“It’s just a precaution, dove,” she reassured softly. “We need to make sure the baby’s okay.” Your lips pursed, nodding in understanding. Wanda guided you into the living room, and a glance at the doctor left your heart racing. If she weren’t tugging you, you would’ve been frozen at the doorway.
“I’ll give you three some privacy,” Agnes declared, lingering in the kitchen. “Just holler if you need anything!”
Wanda settled onto the couch, drawing you down beside her as the doctor delved into his bag, retrieving his stethoscope. Her grasp on your hand remained steadfast, sensing both your unease and the unconscious desire to fidget.
As the doctor pressed the instrument against Wanda’s belly, your breath caught, and a surge of nervous questions flooded your mind. Why were you so anxious? What was the source of this nervous energy? Were you more afraid of the possibility of a baby or the absence of one? The idea of a mistake crossed your mind. If Wanda wasn’t pregnant, she would be devastated. Her excitement at the notion was unmistakable. But how about you? Just five minutes ago, the news didn’t excite you. No, they made you panic. Had your feelings changed so swiftly? Were you… excited now? A baby - Wanda’s and yours.
A small smile tugged at your lips at the thought.
“Yep, definitely pregnant,” the doctor confirmed, and you felt a surge of… relief. Your smile grew as you gazed down at your intertwined hands.
“We pretty much guessed that,” Wanda commented. “It’s just taken us by surprise. It’s sudden. Overnight, practically.” You glanced at her, a slight furrow in your brows at her unexpected nervousness. Was she not ecstatic earlier? “How… How does this even happen?”
The doctor looked between the two of you as if contemplating the complexity of the situation himself. He then broke into a wide smile, attempting a light-hearted approach. “You see, when two people love each other very much-” He halted his joke mid-sentence, knowing how impossible it was, and straightened his form to place his hands on his hips. “You’re about four months along, right?” Wanda nodded, though you absentmindedly shook your head dubiously… until she sent you a look, causing you to switch your doubt to agreement. “I thought so. At this time, the fetus is about the size of a pear.”
You cleared your throat, leaning forward. You had to ignore the doctor’s stare, focusing on the feeling of Wanda’s fingers still interlocked with yours to say, “Wh- What… size would it be at, uh… twelve hours?”
“Pardon?” He smiled, hesitating. “Twelve hours?”
Wanda laughed lightly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it to pat your knee. You looked at her with curiosity as she said, “She’s just concerned.”
“Every new mother-to-be gets nervous,” the doctor claimed happily. “Don’t worry; that feeling will go away when you look your newborn in the eye!” He picked up his bag.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you see the doctor out?” Wanda’s eyes met yours, and it took you a moment to process her words before you blinked yourself out of her hypnotizing gaze, standing up. As you walked away with the doctor, Wanda’s face lit up with a smile, and she rose from the couch, her hands gently caressing her belly as she made her way toward the kitchen.
“It’s a stroke of luck you caught me in time,” he claimed as the two of you stepped out onto the porch. You looked away from him as he stopped to turn to you, eyes landing on the neighbor trimming his edges with curiosity. “I’m taking the wife on vacation this afternoon.” You watched him - you were pretty sure his name was Herb - as he ran his trimmers across the hedges. “Oh! This should be of great use for you.” You looked back at the doctor in time to see him reach into his bag, pulling out a book with an animated picture of a stork on it. You slowly accepted the gift. “It has all the answers to everything you need to know about being a parent. Maybe even help you with those nerves a bit.” He waved his fingers at you as he started to walk away, yet your eyes were too focused on the book to notice. “I’m off to Bermuda!”
Your attention returned to the neighbor, his wide smile contrasting the odd scene of him driving the hedge trimmers through the wall. Stepping backward, the book clutched in your hands, you closed the door before turning around. “Hey… Wands? Our… neigh-” Wanda pivoted to face you, your voice catching in your throat as you noticed her expanded belly. “You… You got… bigger?”
“Did I?” She looked down as you approached slowly. “It’s kind of hard to tell from this angle.” Her hands cradled her stomach as she picked her head up to meet your gaze, her eyes sparkling brightly as you stopped in front of her. “I have a surprise for you!”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “Was… Was the pregnancy not the… surprise?” She rolled her eyes with a playful smirk, bringing your wrist in a gentle grip, and guided you to the room off to the side.
The room off the living room was a familiar mystery, a door you’d seen countless times but never put much thought into it. It seemed like just another storage space or perhaps unused territory. Until now. The assortment of wood, varied in shapes and colors, drew your attention immediately. A lone rocking chair sat to the side, and the walls were adorned in cheerful, childlike paint. It begged the question - how did this room come into existence? The pregnancy revelation had been mere moments ago, so how had Wanda managed to set up this nursery so quick?
“Sit down.” Wanda’s directive wasn’t optional, and you found yourself complying. Seeking comfort in the rocking chair, you observed as Wanda worked her magic, fingers wiggling to deftly assemble the pieces of wood into a crib. Your thoughts shifted from questioning the room’s origin to wondering where all this baby furniture had come from. It’s not like you had a dismantled crib lying around… did you?
Your gaze dropped to the book in your hands, lips pressed together in contemplation as you opened it.
“What does the book say?” Wanda’s soothing voice cut through your thoughts, prompting you to lift your head and meet her warm eyes. Her smile was soft, giving no hint of concern. She seemed genuinely happy about this whole parenting journey, and it left you grappling with the enormity of it all.
“You’re, um…” Your eyes flickered back to the book, scanning the page you’d opened to. “Morning… sickness.”
“We’ve already dealt with that stage,” Wanda breathed out, a soft laugh woven into her voice. With a casual wave of her hand, decorations levitated about the crib. “What else?”
“Uh, m- mood swings,” you mentioned, raising an eyebrow. “Aching back and… and feet.” Glancing back up at her, you swiftly rose from your seat. “Do… Do you hurt?” You gestured toward the rocking chair, then placed a firm hand on its back to halt any inadvertent rocking. “You shou- Sit down.”
Wanda dismissed your concern - and your attempt at being assertive - with a shake of her head. “Don’t be silly, dove. All I feel is excitement!” Her wide grin soon dimmed, forming an ‘O’ of shock as her gaze dropped to her belly.
“Wh- What? What’s wrong?” You took a tentative step toward her, then redirected your attention to the book, rapidly flipping through the pages. The doctor had claimed all the answers, but how were you supposed to find them if you didn’t even know the right questions?
“Y/N, sweetheart…” Wanda’s fingers delicately wrapped around your wrist, halting your quest through the book. Your body melted at her touch as she drew you closer and closer, until your palm pressed against her belly. A gasp caught in your throat as you felt the baby’s kick against your hand, your eyes wide… and smile even wider.
You leaned in closer to her, the tip of your nose gently brushing against the fabric concealing the bump of her stomach. “D- Do it again,” you whispered, laughing excitedly when you felt the push against you once more.
“He’s certainly a mama’s boy,” Wanda murmured softly, her eyes filled with a radiant warmth as you sank to your knees. The book lay forgotten on the floor as you pressed your other hand against her, and Wanda sensed a soothing calmness wash over her, seeing the joy she felt mirrored on your face. No more traces of concern or anxiety hiding in the lines around your eyes; just pure, unadulterated happiness.
“What… What does it… feel like to you?” You lifted your gaze to meet hers over the bump.
“It’s a… strange sensation,” she admitted, gently moving her hands to cover yours. “It’s kind of fluttery.” She chuckled, and as her laughter filled the room, the butterfly mobile hanging above the crib came to life, wings flapping in a graceful dance to the melodic sound emanating from Wanda. “Oh, did I do that?” With a sense of wonder, you eased one of your hands from beneath Wanda’s to hold a finger up, marveling at the beautiful insect as it perched lightly on you. Moving with delicate care, you placed the butterfly on top of Wanda’s belly, a proud and tender smile gracing your face.
“She’s… She’s going to be… gentle,” you murmured, meeting her gaze once more, “like you, Wands. A… butterfly.”
“She?” Wanda watched as you rose to your feet, briskly rubbing your hands together.
“I… I’m hoping for a… a girl,” you confessed sheepishly. “We can… name her after Nat. Is… that okay?”
Wanda reached up, the tips of her fingers delicately tracing the contours of your forehead and down your cheek. “We can definitely do that,” she assured with a tender smile, “but what if we get a boy?”
Your lips pursed together briefly before saying, “Wh- What would you… name him?”
She pondered for a moment, then leaned forward. “Tommy,” she answered. “A nice, classic, all-American name.”
“T- Tommy.” She felt her heart flutter as the name rolled off of your tongue. And she could’ve sworn she had flat-lined when you smiled after taking a moment to process it. “I… I like it.”
“But you’re still hoping for a girl,” Wanda pointed out, and you nodded unashamed, a broad grin of pride on your face as you walked out of the room with your head held high, causing Wanda to chuckle happily.
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“Wands.” She lifted her head at the sound of your voice, noticing you standing in the doorway of the kitchen, your nose buried in that book in your hands. A small smile played on her lips as she wiped her hands onto a towel, humming a response. “A- Are you going to the… bakery?” you inquired, picking your head up to meet her gaze as you stepped further into the room.
She furrowed her eyebrows slightly, tilting her head with a hint of confusion. “No?” A light chuckle accompanied her answer. “Why would I go to the bakery?”
You grinned, “Because you… you have a bun in the… oven.” Her soft laughter filled the air, a sound that brought a flutter to your gut as you moved closer. Placing the book onto the counter, you leaned against it. “Do you need… help? Are you… hungry? The book says that pregnant women get… weird cravings.”
“I’m okay, dove,” she assured lightly, smiling warmly as she reached over to stroke a thumb across your cheek. “I’ll tell you what, though. How about I make us some popcorn, and we can catch up on some-” Suddenly, she grasped her belly, a gasp escaping her lips. You straightened up, eyebrows furrowing with concern as you reached out to support her.
“Wands?”
“Does your book say anything about this?” she asked, gripping the edge of the counter. “It’s not painful, but it’s odd.” Panic flickered in her eyes, her worry evident.
Before you can say anything, the lights in the room began to flicker. The microwave behind you beeped rapidly, and the smell of popcorn filled the air. The kitchen faucet started to run, water building up in the sink and pouring over the edge onto the floor. Despite everything happening around you, your focus remained on your wife. You took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She watched you closely and followed your lead, grabbing your hand as the two of you took a moment to breathe.
The easing of contractions was evident as the vice-like grip she had on you gradually loosened. Simultaneously, the appliances around you ceased their malfunctioning, returning to their off state as she let out a deep exhale. A moment of relief passed, and her eyebrows twitched, a wide smile gracing her lips as she cleared her throat.
“How’d you do that?” she questioned.
“B- Braxton Hicks. Fake… False labor. I read it- The book says it can help with your… breathing exercises.”
But she shook her head, and your gaze turned into confusion. “How’d you manage to stay so calm,” she chuckled lightly. “That was… pretty impressive.”
You shrugged sheepishly, feeling you lose yourself in her shining emerald eyes. “I just… I saw you panicking and… and I wanted to help.” You placed another hand over hers, relishing in the comfort her touch brings to your palms. “We’re in this together… you and me. So… at least one of us has to stay… calm and think straight.” You released her, sending her a tender smile as you brought her face between your hands. “It was… It was my turn.” She blew out a soft sigh, and your small grin grew as you felt her breath caress your chin like a delicate breeze. The way your eyes lit up, emitting a cozy warmth no fire could replicate, she knew what needed to be said…
“Y/N-” Her voice caught, noticing the small yawn you tried to conceal. Your exhaustion was now unmistakable, reflected in the weariness coloring your eyes. She pressed her lips together, exhaling softly before a small smile graced her face. “You need sleep.” Bewilderment took over your expression, evident in the deep furrow of your eyebrows. She laughed, placing her hands over yours to gently pull them away.
“Wands-”
“Come on.” With her fingers wrapped around yours, she led you out of the kitchen and into the living room. With each step, the stress that had built up over the day seemed to gradually evaporate into a sense of relaxation.
Sitting on the couch, she gently led you to lie down, guiding you effortlessly. Your head found a comfortable spot on her lap, and as you breathed deeply, content, you looked up into her soft, warm eyes. Her fingernails traced soothing patterns across your forehead, lulling you into a deeper tranquility. “There’s…” You chewed the inside of your cheek, your thoughts momentarily scattered as if erased by the magic of her gaze. “There’s no… point,” you whispered.
“Trust me, baby,” her tone as gentle as her gaze. “Just try.” You sighed softly, adjusting your position before allowing your eyes to flutter closed. Oblivious to the crimson wisps of smoke disappearing into your skin, and with Wanda’s soft hums reaching your ears, you felt yourself drift away into the void of dreams… only, it wasn’t quite so empty anymore.
Wanda always found solace in watching your peaceful slumber, even if it did sound a bit creepy. In sleep, you weren’t burdened by the conscious efforts you made while awake. The realm of dreams she had opened for you offered a sanctuary where you could be entirely yourself, free from the shadows of anxiety that haunted your waking moments. It was a place where the exhausting overthinking ceased, and you could simply let go.
She cherished this moment, yearning for it to stretch into eternity. The gentle caresses of her nails against your forehead, the soothing hums that filled the air - she didn’t want to stop any of it. Above all, she dreaded the mere thought of you waking up, shattering this serene intermission. So delightful. So calming. So… soothing…
An elusive shift unfolded, as she shut her eyes for what she thought was a brief moment, only to open them to a radiant light. It appeared she had slept through the night and into the early morning, with the rays of sunshine illuminating the room. The weight on her lap almost tempted her back into slumber. As her hand, nestled in the crook of your collarbone, meandered downward, she jolted awake when her fingers met an unexpected searing heat.
Wait… heat?
Her eyes shifted downward, and her heart surged into her throat. The luminous glow she had mistaken for daylight was emanating from you. The warm, yellow light gently bathed the room, casting a surreal ambiance that mimicked the morning sun perfectly. Wanda’s concern deepened as she focused on your sleeping form, realizing that something potentially worrying was unfolding right beneath her.
Your face contorted with subtle twitches, and your eyes moved restlessly beneath your closed lids. It hadn’t occurred to Wanda until now that her ability to unlock the dream realm didn’t necessarily shield you from unsettling nightmares. After all, nightmares were dreams as well. Her protective instincts surged, and she gently rested a hand against your cheek, whispering your name with a mix of worry and care.
“Y/N.” Her voice was a hushed murmur.
Your eyes fluttered open, and the soft glow surrounding you seemed to dim as you blinked, evidently disoriented. Confusion etched your expression as you gazed up at Wanda, furrowing your brows in bewilderment. Scanning the room as if trying to piece together where you were, your thoughts ran rampant, quietly grappling to make sense of the situation.
“Y/N?” Wanda’s hands instinctively retreated as you sat up, confusion lingering on your features as you rose to your feet. She mirrored your movements, tension tightly wrapping around her heart as she observed the careful way your eyes traced the protective placement of her hands around her belly. “Dove.”
In an instant, your grin surfaced. The uncertainty that had clouded your face vanished as if it had never existed. Your eyes sparkled with a newfound light, your smile radiated warmth, and your shoulders relaxed. Nevertheless, Wanda’s unease lingered, and she couldn’t divert her curious gaze from you.
“Are you… Are you hungry?” You perked up, but she wasn’t oblivious to the glimmer of concern in your eyes. “I… I can make you a sandwich.” Without waiting for her response, you swiftly made your way to the kitchen. But just as you reached the doorway, you heard her gasp from behind. “Wands?” You turned, your hands nervously rubbing together. “Wh- What is it?”
“This is a real one,” she expressed.
“A- Already?”
“Y/N.”
“Wands, I… I thought there was more… more time.” Panic started to seize your eyes, your arms once again taking on that vibrant yellow glow. She slowly guided you into doing some calming breathing exercises, moving closer to take your hands in hers.
You followed her lead, taking deep breaths until the glowing subsided. “Better,” she whispered.
“What- Should I get the… doctor?”
Before she could answer, thunder violently shook the house, and the room was suddenly drenched in rain. She met your wide-eyed gaze and offered you the softest smile you’d ever seen in such an intense moment. “I’m pretty sure my water just broke, dove, so I do believe it’s time to get the doctor.”
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You found yourself rooted at the front door, almost paralyzed by the sudden realism. It had all happened so quickly. Everything. It was like blinking and finding yourself here. How could you have seen this one coming? Confined within the walls of a HYDRA lab, never daring to dream of a life beyond. And then, out of nowhere, fate had found you. Like a lost child at a local flea market, you were scooped up by a patient woman and a suspicious man. It felt like just yesterday. As if you had only just tasted your first French fry. As if you had witnessed the sunset for the first time. And now… here you were, listening to the cries of a newborn and watching your wife cradle the other one. Yes, the other one.
Twins. Could you believe it?
“Dove.” You snapped out of your daze at the sound of Wanda’s voice, her soft smile a balm to your racing thoughts. “Come meet your boys.” It shouldn’t have caught you off guard with how many times you had thought it, but it did. Your boys. Hearing it out loud from someone else made it different. It made everything more real, more tangible, in a way that your own thoughts hadn’t.
Your steps were hesitant, slow, as if you were walking into a moment you’d long been preparing for (which, in reality, was only two days). The moment to meet one of your children face to face, to let the panic subside, just as the doctor had assured you…
But as you reached the bassinet, as you looked into the eyes of your baby, that panic which had become your unwanted companion seemed to intensify. His tiny hands appeared to reach out for you, and you found yourself frozen once more. Your fists clenched, your jaw locked. What if holding your own child triggered an uncontrollable overload? The idea of putting your children in danger was unthinkable. How could you protect them when you were the weapon?
Wanda was suddenly next to you, the other baby still cradled in her arms, her focus fixed on the one lying in wait in the bassinet before you. “Y/N-”
“I- I- I- I… can’t.” Disappointment, shame, and guilt, all flooded through you as you shook your head adamantly, tears pricking your eyes, tugged at your nose, and painted your cheeks a deep shade of red. Wanda’s gaze snapped onto you, her irises soft with understanding, but you were walking away long before she could speak a word.
You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a resounding click, then leaned against the sink and stared down at the faucet. What were you doing? You were allowing your fear of potential overloads to keep you from even attempting to hold your newborn child. You had mastered your control over your powers, hadn’t you? …hadn’t you? Were you willing to test that?
A soft knock echoed through the room, and you lifted your gaze to meet your reflection in the mirror. Your complexion appeared pale, bearing a bluish hue. A chilling sensation seemed to wrap around your body. It suddenly felt as if you couldn’t breathe as you slowly lowered your gaze, an eerie emptiness occupied the hole in your chest where your heart should be.
A hand gently landed on your shoulder, pulling you out of whatever nightmare you had fallen into. In the mirror, your image reverted to your usual self with your heart intact. “Y/N?” You met her reflection’s eyes for a fleeting second before you pivoted to face her. You cleared your throat, mustered a half-smile, and focused. “Did you hear what I said?” She regarded you with a hint of skepticism as you shook your head. “I know physical contact makes you uncomfortable, but there are other ways to express your love for them.”
“Like… what?”
“Well,” she hummed, gently taking your hand and directing you out of the bathroom, leading you on a leisurely stroll back to the living room, “what did you do with the boys at the compound?”
Furrowing your brows, you concentrated on her question, and she chuckled softly as she noticed your struggle to give her a response.
“You spent time with Tony in his lab.” You always sensed a hint of loneliness in Tony. You even picked up a thing or two from him since he did all of the talking. “You listened to Clint gush about his family all the time.” Learning more about Clint’s family and the gleam in his eyes when he spoke about them always brought a smile to your face. “You lightened Steve’s load by going through all the mission reports.” Not being on the team gave you a glimpse of the tremendous responsibility Steve carried as the captain. You thought helping him by taking on some of the mission reports would make his life a bit easier. “You’d bring Bruce a coffee whenever he worked late.” Bruce often got lost in his work, and though you only ever had one-way conversations with him - much like the others - you recognized that he couldn’t be pulled away from it. Bringing him coffee was your way of offering support. “You even made everybody your delicious peanut butter sandwiches when they returned from a mission.” They were always too exhausted to make something themselves, and you’d noticed just how hungry Natasha was after an assignment. You presumed the rest of the team felt the same.
With a hint of confusion, you looked at her. “What does… that have to do with anything?”
“Those are all ways to express affection without physical touch, Y/N, because you showed you cared enough to go out of your way to be there.” She guided you to stand in front of the bassinets, where the boys slept peacefully. “You don’t need to hold them… You just need to be there for them.”
“I… I can do that,” you expressed firmly, nodding confidently. Wanda smiled softly, entwining her arm with yours and drawing you close. “I’m sorry I… missed the birth. I was trying to find the… doctor, but he was already…”
“It’s okay, my dove. You didn’t miss anything exciting,” she assured with a soft chuckle, stepping back to sit on the couch, pulling you down next to her. “Just a lot of screaming and crying. Mostly from me.” You grinned, laughing lightly as she rested her head on your shoulder.
“How did you… do it by yourself?” You nestled your cheek against the top of her head, and she inhaled deeply.
“Geraldine helped me.” It was said automatically, and you felt her hold on your arm tense very briefly before she added, “It’s a shame she had somewhere to be, though. You would think you’d want to spend a bit more time with the babies you helped deliver.”
You stared at the two bassinets sitting in front of you, holding your twin boys. “I didn’t… expect two.”
“We still need to name the other one,” she pointed out, picking her head up to look at you, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes off of the cradles. “I know you were hoping for a girl, but-”
“W… William.” You sniffled as you finally turned to meet her gaze, showing her the way your eyes glistened with fresh tears. You smiled at her, but she wasn’t oblivious to the sorrow you were trying to hide in that grin. “After my first… friend.” Her lips pursed together tightly as memories resurfaced.
“Tommy and Billy.” She settled back on the couch, leaning her head against the cushion. “I don’t think there’s a better pair of names than that.”
Your smile broadened, the earlier sadness she had noticed now replaced by genuine happiness. “Wanda and… Y/N.” She tilted her chin to look at you to see a teasing glint in your eyes. “A… A close second… right?”
She chuckled lightly, the melodious sound warming the room. “You’re adorable,” she whispered. Leaning closer, your noses brushed, and your lips hover tantalizingly close. But the sudden cries of the babies broke the moment. Wanda let out a sigh, still smiling, and rose to attend to their needs.
You followed her, standing by her side as she scooped one of the babies in her arms, swaying gently as she held him against her chest. You cleared your throat, looking away from Wanda to lean over the bassinet in an effort to soothe the other little one, but your attempt at rocking the cradle just seemed to make it worse as his wails only grew louder in unison with his brother.
Wanda tried everything in her repertoire to calm down Tommy. She hummed soft lullabies, swayed gently, rubbed his back, and even attempted some bouncing, but nothing seemed to ease his crying. She felt a growing sense of helplessness as her boys’ sobs echoed through the room.
Then, a hushed relief passed her lips as Tommy’s cries began to wane. However, as she shifted her attention from the baby in her arms to the one she had left with you, it was then that she realized it wasn’t Tommy that had settled down, but Billy, and her heart skipped a beat when her eyes landed on you.
You were standing beside the bassinet, your arm extended, eyes squeezed shut incredibly tight, and a soft, yellow glow emanated from within the cradle. Panic initially surged within Wanda, but it swiftly receded as she took a step forward to take in the full scene.
Billy was eagerly reaching out one of his tiny hands, aiming to touch the bright, glowing object before him. His wide eyes radiated a contagious joy, and an adorable smile painted his little face. Wanda couldn’t help but exhale softly, a smirk playing on her lips as she observed you just being there for your son.
“Y/N,” she began gently, her hand resting on your shoulder.
“I… panicked. I’m so… I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, dove. Just take a look.” You hesitantly obeyed her, opening one eye, then the other, a sigh of relief escaping as you realized that your child was unharmed. You stood up, your grin returning, but as you pulled your arm away, Billy’s cries resumed, matching Tommy’s once more.
“Well, it was nice while it lasted,” Wanda mused, gently laying the baby back into his own bassinet. She smiled, glancing over at you. “Do you think you’re willing to do that all day?”
You met her gaze. “We… We’re new at this, Wands. I… I think we just need more time.”
“We just need some help.”
The front door swung open, and both of you turned to see Agnes confidently striding into the room. “Hello, kiddos,” she chimed, casting a broad smile toward the sobbing babies. She nonchalantly dropped a duffel bag onto the couch before approaching the two of you, resting her hands on her hips. “I was just on my way to yoga when I heard your new little bundles of joy were on a sleep strike.”
A perplexed frown creased your forehead. “Who… told you that?”
“Uh… my ears,” she retorted matter-of-factly, causing you and Wanda to exchange a bemused glance. Agnes leaned over the cribs. “Anyway, Auntie Agnes has arrived, and I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve to settle fussy newborns.”
“A- Auntie…?” you began, your curiosity piqued.
“You’re a lifesaver, Agnes!” Wanda interjected.
You watched as your nosy neighbor eagerly rubbed her hands together, ready to work her magic in soothing the bawling babies. Clearing your throat, you cautiously stepped forward to gain her attention. “Okay, but just… Don’t forget to… support their heads.” You gave Agnes a pointed look as you took another step closer. “And… When was the last time you… washed your ha- Wait, Wands, I… I don’t think we should let her…” You moved yourself in between her and the cribs, shielding your children from the woman.
The once wide smile on Agnes’s face faded, replaced by a hint of uncertainty. In the meantime, the incessant crying that had been dominating the house for hours began to gradually subside. “Um…” Agnes hesitated, then turned to Wanda, and the room fell into complete and utter silence. “Do you want me to take that again?”
“Sorry?” Wanda’s expression bunched together with confusion as you looked at her, exchanging perplexed glances with you and Agnes.
Agnes tilted her head, scoffing out an awkward laugh. “You want me to hold the babies. Should we just take it from the top?” She casually picked up her gym bag, her gaze shifting between you and Wanda.
“Wh- What?” Your own confusion mirrored Wanda’s.
Wanda couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle, waving her hand dismissively as she approached you. “Don’t be silly, Y/N,” she encouraged you with a smile. “Let’s let Agnes give it a try.” The babies’ cries grew once more, and Wanda guided you aside, her hand gently resting on your shoulder. You observed Agnes behind her, rocking the cribs, mixing her baby-handling duties with lunges.
“Wands-” you began, your concern still evident.
“I’m pretty sure we’re both going insane from the crying, Y/N,” Wanda remarked.
“They… just started,” you pointed out, studying her emerald eyes. “Did you… really not see that?”
Wanda’s brows furrowed subtly, her lips forming a tight line. She laid a delicate hand against your cheek, rubbing soothing circles with her thumb. “Dove, the boys haven’t slept in days,” she reasoned. “We’re all tired and we all need a break.”
“It’s… It’s been less than a… day…?” You shook your head, gently removing her hand from your face. “Wands, I- Do you… hear that?”
“I don’t hear anything,” Wanda said, walking towards the cribs, perplexed by your sudden shift in focus. However, movement on the stairs pulled your eyes in a different direction.
You turned to find two young boys, side by side, standing on the bottom step, gazing at you and Wanda with wide, expectant eyes.
“Mommy?”
“Mama?”
“Kids,” Agnes chuckled, her tone filled with amusement as she sat on the counter, a glass of dark amber liquid in her hand, which she raised in a toast. “You can’t control ‘em! No matter how hard you try…” She took a long sip of her drink, and you furrowed your brows as you turned your attention back to your sons.
“Do they… usually grow this fast?” you whispered as both boys rushed towards Wanda, eagerly wrapping their arms around her legs in a tight hug. You watched, running a thumb across the scar marking your palm.
“At least they’re not crying anymore, sweetheart,” Wanda pointed out with a smirk. She met your gaze, and a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as she added, “We can finally get the sleep we all desperately need.”
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Wanda descended the stairs with a gentle, measured stride. Her eyes found you almost instantly, curled up on the couch with your sketch journal resting against your knees. A pencil danced graceful across the pages, creating professional, elegant strokes. She tried to sneak a peek at your latest artwork, but the creak of a floorboard under her weight dragged you from your creative trance. You swiftly pulled the journal out of her view, and she regarded you with curiosity but chose not to press further.
“Where are the boys?” she inquired.
“They’re in… the kitchen,” you responded, using the eraser-end of your pencil to indicate the other room. “I heard the… sink running. It seems like they’re doing the… the dishes.”
She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Just so you know, kids never willingly do chores, dove.”
“Oh… Well, I…” You dropped your journal on the vacant cushion beside you and quickly rose, setting the pencil atop it. “I can go… check on them.” You flashed her an innocent smile, your eyes bright and enthusiastic. Wanda crossed her arms, giving you a skeptical look. “I… I got this.”
“Alright,” she agreed, nodding. “I’ll give you five minutes, but you better be bad cop this time, Y/N. The last time I let you try to discipline them, you gave them ice cream before dinner.”
“They… They have your eyes, Wands,” you confessed quietly, causing her to laugh lightly as you made your way into the kitchen. The boys stood at the sink, turning at the sound of your approach to block whatever was happening behind them.
Wanda watched you cross your arms over your chest, and she smiled softly as she watched you attempt to be assertive. She knew she was going to have to walk in before the five minutes were up otherwise you’d end up giving the boys a unicorn, but curiosity nagged at her as she turned to look at your art book. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she reached over the cushions to grab onto the journal, flipping to the last page you were drawing… and she felt her stomach tighten at the nearly-finished, monochromatic image on the paper.
Your eyes remained closed, the hushed sadness in your face accentuated by the delicate graphite strokes. A lone tear meandered down your cheek, a poignant contrast against the muted backdrop. But the most striking element was the chasm in your chest, a vividly rendered void that laid bare your absent heart with a stark yet haunting elegance.
A gasp caught in her through, and a rush of emotion welled up, stinging her nose with the threat of tears. Her body froze, as if turned to stone, her feet anchored to the ground. But then, a single, unexpected bark pierced through the wall of fear that had started to build, shattering it and snapping her out of her daze. With a quick, decisive motion, she tore the paper from the journal and tucked it safely into her pocket.
She steeled herself, cleared her throat to dispel the lingering remnants of fear, and ventured into the kitchen. Her movements halted abruptly as her eyes fell upon the small dog cradled in your arms.
“And who’s this?” She stepped up beside you, resting her hands on her hips as she assessed the dog and then her sons.
“We haven’t named him yet,” Billy explained.
“Name him?”
“Mama said we can keep him,” Tommy chimed in, his excitement evident. This news prompted Wanda to slowly turn toward you, her brow arching impressively, her arms crossing over her chest. Your eyes widened, and you cleared your throat as you faced the boys.
“I-” The back door swung open, and once again, Agnes entered the room, brandishing a dog collar in her hand.
“Hey, kiddos. I noticed you two got a new pooch! I’ve got just the thing you need.” She extended her arm, offering the collar to you, and you began to reach for it. But Wanda swiftly intervened, snatching the collar from Agnes.
“If we put a collar on him, then it’s official,” she pointed out, giving you another meaningful look.
“Uh, boys… Your mother and I… We don’t think you’re ready to… care for an animal until you’re at least…”
“Ten,” Wanda coughed under her breath.
“Ten… years old,” you confirmed with a firm nod.
As the twins exchanged a sly glance, Wanda made an effort to halt their rapid aging, but your attention flickered toward Agnes as they persisted. She remained unphased when Tommy and Billy transformed from innocent five-year-olds into mischievous ten-year-olds. Her response was far from astonished; she simply chuckled, folded her arms, and remarked, “Let’s hope that dog stays the same size.”
While the boys engaged in a spirited debate over a name, you peered down at the little creature cradled in your arms, completely oblivious to Wanda’s keen observation. When you gently set the dog onto the floor, she grasped your elbow before you could leave. Leaning closer, her voice was a hushed murmur in your ear, “What’s going on?”
“I… don’t…” Your head swiveled to meet her inquisitive gaze. “I just… I need some… air.” You exhaled softly, your arm slipped from her grasp as you continued toward the door, just as Tommy called for her attention.
Wanda’s search for you was swift, but her escape from the house proved more challenging. Every time she made a move toward the door, the boys required her assistance with something. By the time she finally set foot in For Art’s Sake, the moon had already claimed the night sky.
A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she felt relief flood over her like a gentle stream as she spotted you seated on the bench across from your painting. Her eyes flickered to the plaque underneath it.
“The Scarlet Sorceress”
Y/N Romanoff
It was nice of Ralph to change the nameplate. Your gaze wasn’t fixed on the artwork, though; instead, you were gently rubbing your palm, as if the scar was a mere pencil mark and your thumb, the eraser. You didn’t look up when she took a seat beside you, nor did you react as she cleared her throat to make her presence known. Her eyes met her own in the painting, and she chewed the inside of her cheek.
“Where are… Are the boys okay?”
“They’re sleeping, but Agnes is still at the house.”
Nothing. Your refusal to meet her gaze hung heavily in the air, creating a tension that could suffocate her if it were able to. She disliked the sudden distance that had grown between you.
“Care to talk to me?” She broke the second wave of silence this time, her tone gentle but concerned. It was evident that you were making no effort to provide any response. The longer you stayed quiet, the tighter the knot twisted in her stomach. She needed to do something, say something to encourage you to open up. It was unfamiliar territory; usually, you were more than willing to share your thoughts with her. But this time, things had shifted. You were closing yourself off, and she could see the protective walls you were constructing.
She needed to destroy them before you finished.
Releasing a short breath, she dipped her hand into her pocket, producing a folded piece of paper. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and began to unfold it, her peripheral vision catching the slight turn of your head. “Is it this?” She unveiled your self-portrait, turning her attention to you, observing that you were now fixated on the artwork in her hands. “Y/N-”
“I… died… didn’t I?” You returned your gaze to your hands. “I… I remember. Nat. She showed me. In my… dreams.”
Wanda furrowed her eyebrows. “Nat seems to be showing you a lot of stuff,” she commented.
“T- Thanos. He… got the stone, didn’t he?” You sniffled, your brows knitting together in thought. “I… I died. And… Nat died…” You cleared your throat. “You… brought me back?”
She let out a deep sigh, relief washing over her once more. But why was she feeling relieved?
“You left a hole where my heart should be, Y/N, and I just… wanted to fill it up.” Your eyes shifted back to the drawing in her hands, and you emitted a dry chuckle. She exhaled in frustration, reaching out to grasp your hands to prevent you from fidgeting with your scar. But you swiftly withdrew from her, standing up and pacing forward. “Are you angry with me for bringing you back to life?”
“I- I don’t know.” You inhaled shallowly, exhaling rapidly. “I just… I… I need to… breathe, Wands… Please.” She leaned against the wall, her shoulders slumping, as you headed for the exit. She glanced back at the drawing in her hands once more, then shook her head, clenched her jaw, and began to chase after you.
“Y/N.” She caught up to you outside as you stepped onto the street. You paused, her voice holding you back, and she disregarded the single, cool raindrop landing on her cheek as she crossed the distance to reach you. “Please just talk to me, baby.”
“Why… me?” You turned to face her, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. More raindrops fell from the sky. “You c- could’ve brought anybody back. Like… V- Vision. But you… you chose me- Why didn’t you change me? Make me more… more confident. M- More… better? Why am I still… me?” you asked, your voice tinged with insecurity and self-doubt. Wanda moved closer, her eyes radiating warmth, her expression gentle. “I… I can’t be who you want me to be, Wands.” You huffed. “I’m… I’m not a people person. I can’t even… hug our own children.” You shook your head as if trying to shake the tears away from your eyes, but they continued to well up. “We tried- I tried. You… You deserve somebody who can… be with you, inside the house… and out.” Rain now poured down, a storm enveloping you both. Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning briefly illuminating the area. You sighed, your gaze drifting away from her to your hands. “You could’ve… made me that kind of- of person.”
Her head tilted to the side as she watched you intently. She gently clasped your wrist, ignoring your surprised look, and brought your hand close to her mouth. “I didn’t change you because I didn’t want you to change. You are exactly the person I want, just the way you are,” she declared, her voice ringing above the rain but her words a soft breath against your skin. “The Y/N I met all those years ago was already better than anyone I’ve ever known. And you’ve only become more perfect with time.” She placed a tender, affectionate kiss on the permanent mark on your palm, a smile gracing her lips as she added, “Scars and all.”
She couldn’t tell whether you’d finally let those tears escape, not with the raindrops tracing down your cheeks. Yet, the way you exhaled and gazed at her indicated that perhaps you had. She sensed those emotional barriers you’d been constructing beginning to crumble as you moved closer, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that felt like a blaze amidst the cool rain shower drenching both of you.
Amidst the brief symphony of thunder overhead, she knew that the sensible choice would be to break the kiss. To seek shelter from the rain. But instead, she defied this logic, her arms winding around your neck, pulling you closer to her, deepening the embrace as raindrops continued to fall and lightning continued to streak the sky.
Soon, she found herself chasing your lips as you pulled back slightly, and you ultimately rested your forehead against hers to quell the temptation. “We should… go home,” you whispered, and she nodded, your breaths mingling as you locked eyes. “Wands, I-” Just then, a louder clap of thunder seemed to shake the ground, forcing you apart. She beamed at your laughter, reaching for your hand as you looked up at the sky. She tugged you down the street, hand in hand, heading home. Together.
The door closed just as lightning illuminated the sky behind her, casting playful shadows on the wall. The rain had left you both drenched, but you paid little attention to it as you tugged her close, caught up in the embrace. The world outside faded away, and the fact that you were dripping wet ceased to matter, all except for a pair of eyes that observed you from the kitchen.
“Looks like you’ve figured things out in paradise,” Agnes chimed in, her voice breaking the intimate moment. Your muscles tensed, and Wanda let out an embarrassed laugh. “Don’t worry about me, dears. I’m just glad to see you both okay.” She grinned knowingly before adding, “I should get home. Thunderstorms don’t only affect the two of you, you know.” With a wink, she slipped out through the back door into the kitchen, leaving you with a sense of curiosity. You turned to Wanda, confusion written across your face.
“You don’t want to know,” she reassured you before you could question further.
You pursed your lips together, hesitant, conflicted. She watched you with patience as you worked the situation out in your mind. And then you finally spoke, “Do you think that we can… There’s something else I- I need to tell you.”
“Okay, dove,” she said, pulling you back to her. “But let’s dry off before we turn our home into a puddle.”
“I’ll grab… some towels,” you replied and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. Then, you dashed upstairs, leaving her with a contented smile as she took a step forward.
However, the moment was interrupted by a knock at the front door. Wanda turned to open it, and her gasp matched the rain’s now-gentle patter outside. Before her stood a man, his presence triggering a mix of emotions. She couldn’t find her voice, and her heart raced as she watched the man throw his arms up in the air.
“Long lost bro get to squeeze his stinkin’ sister to death or what?”
“Pietro?” Her voice quivered as her brother stepped forward, enveloping her in a tight hug. “Oh.”
While they embraced, the floorboards behind them creaked, and you emerged on the scene, towels in hand. Uncertainty was etched across your features. As the siblings broke apart, Pietro sent you a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow. “Who’s the maid?”
