Summary: [Y/N] has been living in Westview for a month when a couple that is just as attractive as it is strange moves in across the street. Not long after, strange events begin to occur, and [Y/N] can’t help but be intrigued by the couple in more ways than one. What will happen when [Y/N] falls headfirst into the mysterious world that revolves around the married Maximoffs and maybe even head over heels in love with not only Wanda Maximoff but her husband, Vision? Tune into Subtitles to fine out!
Episode 1, Filmed Before a Live Studio Audience
Episode 2, Don’t Touch That Dial
Episode 3, Now in Color
Episode 4, We Interrupt This Program
Episode 5, On a Very Special Episode...
Episode 6, All-New Halloween Spooktacular!
Episode 7, Breaking the Fourth Wall
Episode 8, Previously On
Episode 9, The Series Finale
Captions
Summary: Captions is a mini-series of stories within the Subtitles universe. This mini-series covers events that are important to the story and Reader’s relationship with the Maximoffs, such as Vision teaching them to play ukulele or their first Valentine’s Day together, but did not fit into the structure of the main story, whose chapters actively follow the show’s events; there will also be a few alternative scenes that ended up not being in the main series but were considered. While still following the general storyline of Subtitles, these short stories are written with a much looser structure and thus can be read on their own.
Ukulele Practice (Setting: Before Episode 2)
Night Watch Meetings and Gum-Drunk (Alternate scene, Episode 2)
The Vision, The Witch, and the Baby Wizard (Setting: After Episode 3)
That One Valentine’s Day Special (Setting: After Episode 4)
Summary: A nondescript amount of time has passed since [Y/N] has met the Maximoff couple and the trio has since then gotten better settled in Westview, although none of them have yet to make the best impressions with their neighbors. [Y/N], Vision, and Wanda have found friends and confidants in each other when they haven’t much elsewhere but [Y/N]’s crush remains, begging the question, ‘Is there anything more to come?’ Meanwhile, the people of the cul-de-sac are planning a talent show and the atmosphere in Westview appears to be shifting. Follow along as the happy little world of Westview begins fraying at the seams while strange happenings occur and an unseen power desperately seeks to stitch it back together…
Word count: 13,766
Warnings: This one’s even longer. Fluff, sappy rom-com vibes, more possible second-hand embarrassment. It’s just as weird as the episode.
Tag List: @madamevirgo
~~~
“[Y/N], hon. I really think you should cool it on the coffee for the rest of the day.”
It’s possible that Agnes was right. The tiredness that was caused by a windy, sleepless night has recently been replaced by chaotic, synthetic energy that had your eyes wide and hands shaking slightly. You were on your fourth cup now, which you’d brought with you from the diner you and Agnes had had breakfast at. The two of you were going to pick up Wanda and go over to Dottie’s for actual breakfast—well, brunch—but you both had rocky relationships with the queen of the neighborhood and needed to mentally prepare. You had been up for a better part of the last night due to bushes and tree branches rattling against your windows, not to mention all your previous encounters with Dottie have been disastrous; you needed the caffeinated courage. Agnes just wanted to have something on her stomach beforehand so the alcohol hidden away in her handbag would sit better.
You hummed around your mouthful of coffee in response to Agnes’s mild worrying. You swallowed, then threw back the last of the no longer hot beverage and scurried over to a random trash can to toss the cup away. “There, see? All done. All nifty.” Just as an extra bit of proof, you gave her some jazz hands and shimmied as you walked back over to link your arm with hers.
Agnes tried to hold down a smirk but broke into a laugh when the shimmying started. “You look as jittery as a squirrel.”
“Not as fluffy as a bunny?” you asked with a wide-eyed pout, then reached over to poke a finger in the cage that your companion held; the rabbit inside, Agnes’s pet, immediately offered his head to be scratched. “Señor Scratchy, more like Mr. Cutie Patootie.”
“Fluffy too, of course,” Agnes offered, giving your curled updo a ruffle. “In a good mood too, which I suppose isn’t a bad thing. With Dottie around, we’ll need it.”
You almost cracked a grin but then thought about how you’d feel hearing someone say that about you and felt somewhat sad. Luckily, you found a quick reason to grin anyway as Wanda’s house came into view up ahead—
Only for the grin to turn into a look of confusion as a buzzing suddenly started in your ear.
You stopped cold, cocking your head as you strained to listen. The buzzing sounded almost like a lawnmower but coming from the sky—a helicopter, perhaps, but there was something off about it like it was happening inside your head—and the sound grew louder until it stopped with a sudden bang, making you jump.
“[Y/N]?” Agnes’s voice called. “[Y/N], are you alright?”
Drawn back to your surroundings, you felt a cold sweat on your back and noticed your hands had become clammy; the hair on your neck and arms stood straight up and your body felt suddenly achy, almost have you had come down with a cold out of the blue. You looked at Agnes with wide eyes and saw her staring at you, concerned with both arms gripping your sleeve.
It took you several moments to recover and when you did, you asked, “Did you hear that?”
Agnes looked at you incredulously, shaking her head just slightly. “Hear what?”
She hadn’t heard it? You felt like the strange sounds had happened right next to you.
The woman at your side continued, “I didn’t hear anything at all, except for Wanda coming outside. Then you just stopped walking and stood there, I couldn’t even budge you.”
Agnes nodded in the direction in Wanda’s direction and you looked that way. Wanda was indeed outside now, though she hadn’t seemed to notice you two coming up the sidewalk yet. Instead, she was looking down in the bushes near her fence, seemingly distressed. You followed her gaze and saw something glittering in the sunlight there.
“Well,” Agnes said loudly, officially snapping you out of your daze, “you seem fine now, at least. I told you all that caffeine was going to make you go looney!” She picked up the rabbit cage she apparently put down while you were… doing whatever it had been that you were doing, then kept walking as if nothing had happened.
You watched her for a moment before following. Then you noticed Wanda lean over and pick up whatever it was she was looking at but you couldn’t see what it was as Agnes obscured most of the view. You could, however, see Wanda’s distraught expression and it made you want to run and make sure she was okay; you noted that Agnes still had no reaction, though, and decided perhaps all that caffeine was the actual cause of all these weird feelings.
You felt the familiar pang of a headache as you and Agnes got closer.
“Look, it’s the star of the show!” Agnes chirped, leaning against the fence bordering the Maximoff lawn. You saw Wanda gasp and drop the thing back into the bushes but Agnes just grinned.
“Agnes!” Wanda replied in a way that seemed a little strained. She leaned over and covered the bush with an arm. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Then she noticed you, still a little ways behind Agnes, and the tension in her shoulders seemed to relax slightly. “And [Y/N]!”
You gave her a sheepish wave, still trying to recollect yourself. The faint headache was still there, getting a bit stronger whenever your eyes or thoughts drifted to the object Wanda was obviously trying to hide. At least you weren’t sweaty and clammy anymore, though. Not that that would matter. It’s not like you would be holding anybody’s hand on the way to Dottie’s.
You wouldn’t mind doing so if it happened to happen though.
Stop, you chided yourself, Bad. No holding hands with Wanda.
Unless you hold hands with both her and her husband, your brain decided to think on its own, which is totally cool too.
No, you chided your brain this time, no holding hands with married couples.
Fine, your brain conceded. Then after a moment, Just kiss them instead.
No!
Good god, that had been too much coffee.
You shook your head slightly and watched and Agnes handed Señor Scratchy over to Wanda who headed back to the house with him, though you hadn’t been paying attention to what they were saying prior.
“...he played baby Jesus in last year’s Christmas pageant!” Agnes was saying, to which Wanda looked over her shoulder and answered, “Ah!”
Then Agnes looked over her shoulder, and yours, and said, “Oh, morning, Dennis!”
You side-stepped to let the man pass and took the advantage to move to Agnes’s other side as she chatted the mailman up. You couldn’t help laughing a bit as she made finger guns at him and told him to stick ‘em up.
“Ho,” Dennis responded, putting his hands up momentarily and smiling, “Don’t shoot, I’m just the messenger.”
“Pew pew!” Agnes sounded, waggling her “guns” at him.
You offered your own, less theatrical greeting to Dennis as he walked by, then leaned over and bumped hips with Agnes when you caught her watching him walk away.
“Please tell me you’re not having an affair with the mailman,” you said.
Agnes choked, then threw back her head and did what you could only describe as a cackle. “What? Heavens no!”
“Good,” you replied, then slid a bit closer. Shimmying your shoulders at her, you teased, “Because I’m the only one you need.”
Agnes snorted and swatted you over the head but she was smiling. “You bird dog, get out of here. I’m married!”
“And I will duel your husband at dawn,” you cried, “I am the only one who gets to fight bar stools for the lady’s affections!”
The two of you chortled and separated as Wanda came walking out of the house and back towards you. She looked rather lovely in the pants and cardigan combo that she wore; you also quite liked the pattern of her shirt.
She looked between the two of you—you felt like her eyes settled on you for just a second longer but that was probably the caffeine too—and as she got closer said, “Shall we?”
“Oh, we shall,” Agnes replied, stepping back from leaning on the fence and offering Wanda her arm.
You saw Wanda glance back at the bushes and she linked her arm with Agnes’s and before you could think about your headache and stop yourself, you followed her gaze. You were now standing on the other side of the fence of the bushes that Wanda had tried to hide the object she’d found in and with a quick peer, you could make out a toy helicopter within the branches.
There was something very off about the helicopter, as there had been about the sound earlier. Looking at it was like the effects of one of your worse migraines but without the intense pain. Time appeared to slow way down and your head somehow felt like it was both floating and behind crushed at the same time. When you tried to look around it was like you were moving outside of your body, as if you had turned around to look at your own house across the street and yet hadn’t moved at all. Images of Wanda and Agnes’s faces, the Maximoff house and your own, faces and places that you didn’t quite recognize, the helicopter all floated through your line of vision, mushing together or overlaying on top of each other, and you couldn’t be sure whether you were actually looking around or if you had closed your eyes and this was all happening behind your eyelids.
After what seemed like a century but you were sure was only a very slow second, the helicopter came into focus again, and you felt like you were gasping or squinting or both, but without actually doing either. The toy had a very bizarre color scheme as if the colors didn’t exist in this realm of existence; you couldn’t quite place the names of them no matter how hard you tried. The helicopter’s bright colors—almost too bright to you; it felt like looking at the sun but you couldn’t look away—appeared to turn the entire world around you to shades of gray, including yourself. Yet again, you felt like you moved without actually doing so as you raised your hand, a shade of gray instead of your skin tone. Looking further, your entire outfit wasn’t the combination of your two favorite colors that you thought it was but a variety of grays, as well as the sidewalk you stood on and the fence and bushes you stood next to.
Your gaze settled on the toy helicopter again even though you were pretty sure you’d never actually looked away.
Blood? The helicopter was the color of blood and sand, with a touch of the color you suddenly hated with every fiber of your being, shimmery gray.
Then there was a sound like a thunderclap happening directly inside your head and everything was back to normal.
Wanda has just finished linking arms with Agnes and the girls were stepping to one side so you could join their line. Looking at Wanda’s smile directed at Agnes, and Agnes’s scheming look directed at you, the world didn’t seem so out of sorts anymore. You felt both very solid and like you needed to steady yourself but you didn’t have time for the latter and instead, you stepped forward, seeming much more confident than you felt, to link arms with Agnes.
Agnes, with her scheming look, clearly had other ideas. She suddenly stepped off the curb, jerking herself and Wanda to the side, not only blocking the way you were walking but pulling Wanda directly in front of you. Agnes herself settled easily but Wanda, who had no idea what just happened, stumbled and tripped; she tried to catch herself on Agnes’s arm she held, only to find it was no longer there and ended up falling backward.
Your arms shot out reflexively and caught her around the waist. Wanda, in response, reached behind her and braced herself by throwing one arm around your shoulders while the other caught one of your wrists and twisting in such a way that caused her to turn towards you and kick one leg up so she could steady herself on the other. The result was an almost picture-perfect dip, with you cradling Wanda’s upper body in your arms, her embracing you, and the two of you staring at each other in pure shock.
Then there was Agnes, standing next to the curb and brushing out a crease in her dress, looking oh so pleased with herself.
A deep blush bloomed across your face as you looked down at the woman—the very married and greatly loved by her husband woman—and your outsides and insides had the same idea of wanting to curl in on themselves and… either scream in joy or die, you couldn’t be sure. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of Wanda right away; along with the longing you often felt when seeing either her or her husband, though it was multiplied by infinity in the current moment, you felt a sudden fierce protectiveness over her come almost out of nowhere. You wanted Wanda Maximoff to be as happy and as safe as could be and it felt like if you let her go any moment before she was properly standing and solid on her feet that something very bad would happen like she would tip and fall and shatter into a million pieces.
Holding her was just very nice in general too.
You felt your fingers twitch at her waist and it drew you back out of your head. You noticed Wanda hadn’t yet pulled away either or moved in general, and you felt like you were going to spontaneously combust when you focused back on the face looking up at you.
Although she couldn’t possibly as red as you were, Wanda was flushed from her neck to the tips of her ears—she had the prettiest blushing face you’d ever seen, you were sure of it—and she was looking up at you from under her lashes, the expression on her face a mix of surprise and embarrassment and something softer than you couldn’t quite place. You felt her arm, warm and strong against the back of your shoulders, and her hands still tightly gripping your shoulder and wrist. For a moment, you felt the hand on your shoulder lightly knead the fabric of your jacket, as if testing something, before her entire grip on you loosened.
“Um,” she started, her voice sounding as dry as your throat felt, “thank you. For catching me.”
“Happy to help,” you croaked, then mentally kicked yourself and cleared your throat; the slight smile that appeared on Wanda’s lips wasn’t lost on you, though.
“Oh, lovebirds,” Agnes hollered over her shoulder as she walked ahead of you and Wanda, “the Queen of the Cul de Sac will order off with our heads if we don’t hurry!”
I had no idea that the devil wears plaid, you thought. Then you weren’t how long you and Wanda had been standing like that, or who had seen, and you were panicking.
You thought that maybe the two of you might scramble away from each other but it was quite the opposite. Wanda lowered the leg she still had raised and in one fluid motion, Wanda was back standing upright; in another, you twirled her around to your side and linked arms with her, and then the two of you were hustling after Agnes, who stopped and waited with her arm out so that you could link up with her too.
It was like something out of an old rom-com movie. Except it was a rom-com movie where the main character fancied both the love interest and her husband, something far too farfetched to end happily.
“Dottie can’t possibly be as bad as you say,” Wanda said. She looked from Agnes to you and you gave her a sympathetic look.
“Well, you’ll notice her roses bloom under penalty of death,” Agnes affirmed as the three of you made it to the outskirts of Queen Dottie’s castle and paused there. “If you don’t believe me, ask [Y/N].”
Wanda’s eyebrows raised.
You sighed. “The first day of meeting her I spilled wine on her dress and now I’m ninety percent sure that she thinks I want her dead. She also very much dislikes the idea of a lone stray cat living in her neighborhood.” You unlinked your arms with the ladies to gesture at yourself. “I was getting home late from work one night and she saw me, stepped outside to make sure I wasn’t going to dig through her trash bins.”
“Oh,” Wanda said with a grimace, “goodness.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine, though,” you added quickly, “You’re lovely; I can’t imagine anyone not loving you.”
Agnes rolled her eyes while you blushed and scratched your neck. You could already see her gearing up for a pre-Dottie tutoring session.
And then she started with a look-over of Wanda’s outfit. “Wanda—”
“Hm?”
“—can I give you a bit of friendly advice?”
Wanda must have caught the look too because she glanced over her outfit, the outfit you quite liked. Raising a hand to her chest, she asked, “Is it about the way I’m dressed?”
“Yes, but it’s too late for that.”
You scowled as worry bloomed on Wanda’s face. Unfortunately, you yourself had to learn how important dress was at these social events. You’d expected it to be just a gathering of friendly neighbors but it’s much more like a secret society and you had to look just right to fit it. Now you regretted not telling her sooner; you’d failed your first and only attempt at making a good impression so were content wearing whatever you wanted for the most part but Wanda definitely deserve the poor treatment she was going to get.
“Dottie is the key to everything in this town,” Agnes continued, unphased. “Country club memberships.”
Something you didn’t have.
“Parties.”
Something you didn’t go to.
“School admissions.”
Something you didn’t have to worry about any time soon but the way Agnes’s gaze drifted towards Wanda’s stomach made you wonder if the Maximoffs did. The thought made your stomach churn but you couldn’t figure out why.
“Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Wanda interjected with a smile and roll of her eyes. She happened to look your way and you thought the smile softened with her gaze just a tad.
You relaxed your shoulders.
Agnes trudged on. “You get in with Dottie and it’ll be smooth sailing from here on out. Just mind your P’s and Q’s and you’re gonna do just fine.”
“Or maybe I could just be myself, more or less.”
“I quite like that idea,” you offered. A wide-eyed glance from Agnes went unnoticed as you were too focused on the smile Wanda definitely gave you that time.
“Oh, Wanda, [Y/N]” Agnes said with a laugh, “that’s good.”
Wanda’s excitement for the event today seemed to lessen and you, apparently still high off the moment you thought you two had, gave her arm a gentle squeeze and an encouraging look.
She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she gave you an appreciative glance and pat on the hand. Your and her hands lingered for perhaps a second or two too long before they dropped back to your sides.
And then the queen and her merry homemakers sauntered their way out the front door.
“Everybody, hurry up please!” Dottie sang over her shoulder as she quickly walked down the front steps, followed by a line of housewives carrying various covered dishes.
Agnes twisted to look her way and waved. “Hiya, Dottie, your roses are divine!”
Both you and Wanda offered a polite wave as Dottie thanked Agnes, although she didn’t stop to chat. Her eyes did do a scan of your trio, though, and you felt your ears burn when a distasteful look was sent your way.
Agnes gave you a sympathetic smile and Wanda a look that said “Good luck; you’ll need it!” before sliding her arms under one of each of Wanda’s and yours and tugging the two of you along.
Your eyes wandered as one of the wives, Bev, talked animatedly about the setup for the talent show happening this weekend. Bored and feeling out of place, you looked over the group of women sitting a circle underneath the canopy tent by Dottie’s pool, purposely excluding Dottie and the woman talking, then the man jumping into said pool, then the man cleaning said pool.
You shouldn’t be here. This gathering really was a secret society of women of the neighborhood—not only women but wives in particular—to discuss homely and neighborhood business matters; you weren’t a wife and after screwing up with Dottie, you certainly weren’t involved in any of the other important business, nor did you have any interesting household gossip since you lived alone. The main you were here was because while out of place, you got along more decently with the wives than the husbands and when you’d first moved to town, Agnes thought you would be entertaining company to keep. She’d immediately hung you out to dry by telling her fellow women about you calling out their husbands’ poor attempts at comedy, which amused some of them enough to welcome you; in fact, Dottie had been one of those people, impressed by your initiative if nothing else, until you ruined your chances by ruining her dress. At the current meeting, you’d been specifically invited only because you were taking part in the talent show performance, which had also happened because Agnes heard you singing while doing garden work one day and somewhat strong-armed you in.
Your bored eyes eventually settled on watching Wanda, who sat a couple of chairs away on the other side of your mutual companion, and you were no longer bored. While you watched Wanda, she was watching Dottie like a hawk, awkwardly but cutely trying to mimic everything the other woman was doing. She stopped when Dottie started speaking, gripping the cup she was holding a lifeline and you chuckled moments before catty laughter erupted around you. You hadn’t heard what caused it, so you decided to tune back in.
“The devil’s in the details, Bev,” Dottie criticized, masking disdain with the lightness of her voice.
You heard Agnes mutter to Wanda, “That’s not the only place he is.” You couldn’t help but snicker.
Dottie was standing now and continued on, “As you all know, the talent show is the sole fundraiser for Westview Elementary…”
Agnes passed a flask to Bev with a cheeky grin as she sat down next to you and after taking a sip, Bev offered it to you. You didn’t have to think twice before snagging a drink of your own and handing it back over to its home.
“I hear you’re singing,” Bev chirped quietly to you, “For the talent show? I bet you’re a lovely singer, can’t wait to hear it.”
You blushed slightly and thanked her but didn’t say much more to avoid Dottie’s wrath.
The wrath that Wanda and her current companion, a woman with dark skin who looked oddly familiar but whose name you couldn’t place, weren’t able to avoid themselves, apparently.
“We only have a few hours until showtime,” Dottie said, “so a little less cross-chatter and a little more focus.”
As Dottie prattled on, you observed the two women curiously.
“...is for the children,” Dottie finished.
“For the children,” the other women echoed.
“For the children,” Wanda added after everyone else had already spoken, earning several displeased looks.
You didn’t bother to say anything, opting to take Agnes’s flask and have another sip.
“So, I want you all to give yourselves a big hand—”
Wanda, looking petrified, stopped in the middle of taking a bite of a cookie and started clapping. You hid your laugh behind a hand; she still had an entire cookie hanging from her mouth.
“—at the appropriate time, of course,” Dottie chastised, then continued on yet again.
Oh, darling Wanda, you thought with a grin, you poor, sweet thing, you. You rested your chin in your hand and watched as she made herself proper until Bev nudged you to take your elbow off the table. You huffed slightly but did so anyway, then tried to catch Wanda’s eye for a moment of solidarity, only to see her talking to the dark-skinned woman again.
Your gaze shifted from Wanda to the other woman and your brows furrowed. You swore you knew her from somewhere though try as you might, you just couldn’t place that face, those eyes, that awkward but friendly smile. Perhaps another newcomer to the area that you’ve seen t on the streets or at a shop? You couldn’t imagine where she moved into, though, as you were sure the last two open houses had been the ones occupied by you and Wanda and Vision.
You felt a sharp pang in your temple and grunted softly. You weren’t about to have an episode here of all places, so you quickly looked away and put the thoughts aside.
Just as Wanda and the stranger shook hands over their table. Uh-oh.
“I’m Wanda.”
“I’m, uh, Geraldine!”
“And I’m irritated!”
After getting scolded by Dottie a second time, Wanda locked her jaw and resigned to sitting in her seat with her hands tucked in her lap. She finally looked over at you with helplessness in her eyes.
You responded with a mouthed “I told you so” and a wink, then silently told her that you’d talk to her after the meeting.
A comforting face seemed to be what she needed because she relaxed again, though not completely. She settled in for the rest of the meeting and, finishing off Agnes’s flask, so did you.
After the meeting was over, Dottie asked Wanda to sit back and help her clean up, which you knew meant Dottie doing nothing but being condescending while Wanda did all the work. While Agnes tried to get you to walk her home and then warned you against your plan, you were adamant about staying back and making sure Wanda got through the rest of her first Dottie encounter in one piece. At this point, you knew fitting in and having people’s positive opinions was important to Wanda; you oftentimes felt like that yourself. Unfortunately, Dottie wasn’t the type of person to give out positive opinions easily—you had to earn it, which was hard enough without accidentally interrupting the main meeting multiple times—and that protective feeling for Wanda that had come out of nowhere earlier today still hadn’t faded. You knew Wanda Maximoff of all people didn’t necessarily need you but you wanted to stick around, just in case she did.
Maybe you were hoping that she would.
That and you couldn’t help but take one last shot at getting on Dottie’s good side.
“...and that is why you never do a seating chart on an empty stomach,” Dottie was finishing from her perch on the edge of a pool chair.
Wanda walked over to where you stood organizing a cart of dirty dishes so they didn’t all come tumbling down when whichever pretty busboy that Dottie paid finally came to take it away. She was huffing, carrying over yet another pile of dirty plates on a large tray; you skirted around the dish cart and quickly came to her aid, taking as much as your hands could carry from off the top. She offered a grateful smile that you returned before you both unloaded onto the cart.
Who owned or even used this ungodly amount of dishes?
A person who paid various pretty people to just be around, you concluded a moment later.
As you continued to organize, Wanda turned back around to grab a pair of three-tiered dessert stands, both of which had a decent amount of desserts left on them. “Golly, you’re a wiz at all this committee stuff, Dottie. Thank you for choosing me to help you clean up today, I feel so lucky.”
“You are,” Dottie agreed.
Wanda turned back to you again and made a face, then stuck out her tongue. You choked down a laugh after catching Dottie’s steely gaze over Wanda’s shoulder, settling for a smile as you took the trays.
Dottie was just as displeased as you’d expected she’d be that you insisted to stay behind and help.
“I really should try to make amends before this is over, shouldn’t I?” Wanda muttered. She caught a few plates slipping from the top of a pile and rearranged them.
“If you manage to do so, you really would be a Westview miracle,” you replied, taking a cup Wanda managed to catch before it tipped off the cart. “But first, how about I make you look ten times better, hm?”
Wanda gave you a confused look but you just patted her hand before switching places with Wanda and going to grab another tray of dishes.
You put on your friendliest smile as you began stacking as many cups as you could balance in one arm. “Say, Dottie—”
“Be careful,” Dottie chimed back, “or at least let me get out of your way first. Wouldn’t want a repeat of our first meeting, hm?” She ended her sentence with a venom-laced laugh, then gave you a tight smile.
You were pretty sure your eye twitched but you carried on, chuckling with her, “No, I suppose not. I really do apologize about that but you really shouldn’t hold such grudges. Worrying so much causes early-set wrinkles, you know.”
Dottie’s smile tightened further. You heard Wanda gasp and choke from behind you.
“Anyway, though, I really would like to make it up to you some time. My boss’s wife gave me two tickets to a food tasting event in town next weekend. I thought it might be something nice to do, plus it might give you some ideas for catering during the next event—”
“My husband and I would love to go out next weekend, thank you so much. Feel free to drop the tickets in the mailbox the next time you come around.” Dottie paused, then added. “Mailbox, on the opposite side of the porch than the trash bins.”
Your eye definitely twitched, maybe even both of them. You feigned an appreciative look as you finished stacking your dishes, then scowled as soon as you turned around and walked back to Wanda.
“Now,” you grumbled, “I beg the sweet release of death to come in a more timely manner. Oh, and whatever you do can’t possibly be worse than me, although I’m sure that was the case either way.”
“You poor thing.” Was all Wanda could manage, giving your arm a squeeze. “Guess it’s my turn.”
“Good luck, darling,” you said, then almost immediately regretted it. You don’t know why you decided to fake a British accent, nor why you felt the need to call her darling, but you couldn’t take back either of them now.
Wanda blinked, then laughed— before it was cut off by Dottie telling you both to get back to work.
“It’s more dahrling, less dahling,” Wanda teased. “British people do still use R’s.”
“Fascinating.”
Wanda grinned, gave you a final pat on the arm, then turned around to take her shot with Dottie. “I can’t help but wonder if you and I haven’t gotten off on the wrong foot, Dottie, and I would like to correct that if I can.”
A much better approach than you, you noted with an impressed nod. You walked a little ways off to grab another cart to even out the load of dishes; the current one seemed to sag under the weight.
“And how would you do that?” Dottie asked and you heard the rustle of fabrics rubbing together as she stood. “I’ve heard things about you. You and your husband.”
You stopped from your place behind the canopy’s pulled-back curtain. What on earth could she be talking about?
Wanda has the same thought. “Well, I don’t know what… you’ve been told… but I assure you, I don’t mean anyone… any harm.”
Your brows knitted together and you shuffled around the canopy’s aluminum frame to hear a little better. You couldn’t imagine Wanda hurting anybody, not on purpose anyway.
A pang in your temple. A surge of that fierce protectiveness.
You poked your head out just slightly from behind the canopy. All you could see was Wanda’s back and Dottie’s determined expression from beyond Wanda’s shoulder, and the fact that they were standing very close together.
“I don’t believe you,” Dottie stated simply.
As if on cue, the radio on the table started acting up, the music cutting to static combined with a jumble of noises. Like many things today, though, it sounded strange, as if it was coming from all around you, or directly from inside your skull. It stopped almost immediately as it started and music, regular-sounding music, returned. Normal, you thought, until you focused harder, and noticed a voice creeping from the background. It continued to creep closer, get louder like a person walking towards you would, until it was as loud as the static had been and the music was no longer audible. Your head throbbed as the voice sounded like it was coming out of your brain instead of into your ears but you couldn’t anything other than tighten your grip on the canopy.
The voice said, “Wanda. Wanda. Who’s doing this to you, Wanda? Wanda. Wanda. Wan—”
The radio shorted out, there was the sound of the glass Dottie was shattered, and there was another thunderclap in your head as the world around briefly flared into color. Color, not shades of gray, but then the gray was back as quickly as it had left. You didn’t know whether Dottie or the bizarre radio’s frequencies had crushed the glass or whether it had just been dropped, but you were walking over with a cloth in hand before you’d even gotten your senses back in order.
“Dottie,” Wanda gasped, her eyes flitting about.
Dottie caught a glimpse of the overly saturated blood spreading out from the gash in her palm—and seemed only mildly annoyed.
Wanda kept making sounds like she was trying to speak but didn’t quite know how to. She spun around to grab something to press to the wound and almost ran into you. She stared at you, cloth in hand, with wide eyes filled with equal amounts of fear and surprise, like your existence had been completely forgotten until that moment. Then Wanda grabbed the cloth, and your hand in the process; she gave you a silent thank you, your hand a squeeze so tight you felt her fingernails dig into the skin, then turned back to Dottie and pressed the cloth to her bloody palm.
Dottie grabbed her hand and said, somehow completely aware of the situation and also seeming totally spaced out, “Pop quiz, Wanda: How does a housewife get a bloodstain out of white linen? By doing it herself.”
Then she smiled and walked into her house.
You and Wanda stood in silence and it was then that you realized you felt the same way you figured Dottie did, similar to how you felt earlier today when you saw the toy helicopter in Wanda’s yard. You felt light and spacey and almost dizzy but without the world spinning, almost like you were a mind outside of your body, or a consciousness inside of a body that wasn’t yours. Time didn’t slow but rather sped up; you didn’t know when you’d started walking to Wanda’s aid and you didn’t remember the feeling of ever grabbing the cloth that you’d given her, and the whole event seemed to have fixed itself as soon as it started with the end result being your mind painfully aware of something being wrong but your body refusing to act like anything was.
All you’d really felt was your head throbbing, not with pain but with pressure, and the desperate urge to help Wanda. Then you did and everything was over.
Wanda.
You repeated her name in the form of a question; it felt different this time. She didn’t respond or really even move aside from reaching back towards you. You rushed over and grasped her arm and she let out a choked gasp.
“[Y/N].” She said it as if trying it out for the first time. It took her a bit longer to pry her eyes away from the spot where Dottie had been, then she held a hand to her mouth and looked at you. “What just happened?”
“I’m… I’m not sure myself.”
It took a bit longer again for her to speak, her eyes darting from you to the door Dottie had disappeared to and back. “Would you walk me home? Please?”
“Of course, Wanda.”
The walk home was quiet. The two of you had your arms linked as you did on the walk over but now Wanda gripped your arm with her other hand too. Like at Dottie’s pool, it was almost eerily silent except for your and Wanda’s footsteps. Tou could have chalked it up to being because everyone was already in town setting up for the talent show, something about it had you glancing around ever so often, as though you could catch someone peering at you through the bushes or through the crack of a partially opened manhole at any moment.
When you got to Wanda’s door, you had a quick chat about the talent show—as if none of the day’s earlier events had happened; she was very excited to hear you sing—and then she headed up the steps to her door. You gave her a wave and turned to walk home.
“[Y/N]?”
You stopped and turned back around, eyebrows raised slightly.
Wanda walked the three steps back down from her door and gave you a hug. “Thank you for being around today.”
“‘Scuse me, coming through!”
Of course, you’d be late. Of course, you’d get home, start practicing for your performance, pass out on your couch, and wake up five minutes before the show started with a suit and dress combo to still pull on and a few instruments to properly secure in their trunk.
You weaved your way between folks who were either going to the talent show or trying to ignore it and stumbled your way upstairs to the backstage.
Wanda was standing there in a magician’s assistant costume that almost had you on your knees and begging for mercy before you remembered you had a show to do that you were also very late for. She and the Black woman she’d been talking to at Dottie’s meeting—Geraldine, Wanda had informed you later—spun on you with an expectant gasp, only to slump in disappointment when they saw it was you.
“Golly, thanks for the warm welcome,” you muttered, setting your trunk down and popping it open. “Suppose I deserve it for missing most of the show, though.”
“I’m so sorry, [Y/N],” Wanda said as she paced over, “You look fab and I’m sure your performance will be a blast—”
“If I’m still performing?” you asked, directing the question at Geraldine with a hopeful smile.
“If you’re ready before the husband gets here, you can take their place,” Geraldine offered, “If not, you can finish the show off.”
Finishing the talent show, not nerve-wracking at all.
“Vision’s not here?” You gave Wanda a questioning look as you walked past her to look
at yourself in a full-body mirror on the other side of the stage to make sure your look was still in order. The top half of your outfit was a full, simple, black and white tuxedo with a matching black fedora that slightly offset on top of your hair; one of Dottie’s white roses, which you acquired after stuffing her and her husband’s food taster tickets in her mailbox on your way into town, poked out from the hat’s band. The bottom half was a simple skirt—actually, the skirt and undershirt of your outfit was a dress that your mother had pieced together and sent you for your “big night”—that was fashionable for the time but in a sleek shade of black that matched the rest of your tuxedo and with a white band around the hem, paired with a sheer stocking of a plaid pattern and low-heeled shoes that you would return to the shop tomorrow. Finally, for a little touch of color and a little for pop, a golden bejeweled broach was pinned to a crimson pocket square poked out of the chest pocket of your tuxedo jacket, golden geometric earrings hung from your lobes, and a couple of bejeweled bracelets and rings in the same colors adorned your hands. You wore bright, unglossed lipstick and nail polish to match, despite that not being in fashion. Luckily everything still seemed in order.
Wanda gave an exaggerated shrug as you walked back over to your instrument trunk. “Nowhere to be found, like he vanished!”
As if summoned, Vision came wobbling around the corner and up the steps. Well, he almost did; it took him two tries to get up the steps without falling back down.
“Oh, is that him?” Geraldine asked, her face twisting into a look of concern. “Looks like he’s gots a little hitch in his giddyup. Whoa!”
You twisted around, ukulele in hand to check if it was tuned, just as Vision was making it upstairs the second time. You smiled, quirking an eyebrow, only to stumble as the British man threw his arm around you to steady himself.
“Wanda, my little cabbage, you look smashing!” Vision exclaimed, his words slurring together just slightly. He began swaying and decided to lean almost his full weight on you; when you grunted and moved the instrument you were holding out of the danger zone of getting smacked is when Vision appeared to notice that he was balancing against a person instead of the railing by the stairs. He leaned his face closer and squinted at you—now that you weren’t concerned about going onstage immediately, it was significantly easier to get flustered by Vision and his, yes, absolutely smashing wife—then grinned and said, “Why it’s [Y/N] too, and looking equally as ravishing!”
You tried to keep yourself in check. “Heya cool head, not your wife. That being said, I’d say you look smashing yourself but you just seem positively smashed.”
“Oh, I know,” Vision replied, “I already told her that she looked nice. You heard me right, honey?” He went from so close to your face that his bangs were getting in your eye to only a hand gripping your shoulder as he flung his limbs wide, which was apparently a necessary move to look at his wife’s face.
You gave Wanda a look that was equal parts worried and amused. The look she returned was just worried.
Wanda walked over to you and helped maneuver you out of Vision’s grip so you could continue tuning your ukulele—actually, it was Vision’s that you were borrowing—then tugged her husband so you were at least a couple feet out of reach. “Vis, where have you been?”
“Oh, uh… me and the boys were playing a rather thrilling game of horses and shoes,” Vision responded, talking in a way that sounded like he was trying to talk under his breath while still speaking at full volume. “No, wait, that’s not it. Shoe horses! Oh, hrn… Ah! Horse’s shoes!” He put two thumbs up and smiled lopsidedly, clearly pleased with himself.
“Horseshoes,” you offered from your corner by the railing. You were done playing with the ukulele and checked to make sure your tambourine was safe and sound.
“Oh, yes!” Vision was his thumbs up towards you, both arms stretched out as far as they could reach. “Brilliant, you’re absolutely brilliant, [Y/N]! Aren’t they brilliant, Wanda, very brilliant and very nice-looking?”
“Well, uh, yes, I suppose,” Wanda agreed awkwardly, glancing over at you before pulling Vision back to face her; you swore you even saw her cheeks turn a shade darker. “Listen, something strange happened with Dottie.”
You were too busy biting back a smile to hear the rest of the conversation. You rearranged your hat and jacket back into place from Vision knocking them askew, then brushed any wrinkles out of your skirt. You glanced over at Geraldine, who was peeking through the curtains at the main part of the stage.
“I was just playing with his shoes!” Vision suddenly hollered, as the members of the previous act, including someone dressed in a horse costume, made their way around the stage.
“What is going on?” Wanda cried.
Geraldine responded in kind, “You are!”
You considered taking their places so Wanda had time to knock some sense into her husband but you knew if you went out now, you would sound like fingers on a chalkboard, and going out on stage at all was bad enough. Instead, you walked over and gave the couple an encouraging pat on the shoulder and a “Good luck!” before making your way down the steps and around to the viewing area to find a place to sit.
Dottie was onstage. Her hand seemed fine now. “I want to thank you all for coming out to support Westview Elementary, for the children.”
“For the children,” the crowd echoed, mostly deadpan.
“I have yet to see a child,” you stated at the same time, sitting back in an extra chair off to the side of the stage as to not annoy audience members with the vocal warmups you were about to start doing.
Dottie continued, “And for our final act—”
Geraldine scurried out from behind the curtains at muttered something in Dottie’s ear before rushing away again.
Dottie quickly picked you on the sidelines and gave a strained smile, although the daggers she was glaring made you sink down in your chair. “Sorry, everyone. For our next to final act, I give you Wanda and Vision.”
Wanda sauntered out from behind the curtains and down to the front of the stage, then planted herself slightly off to the side and threw one hand up as an entrance cue to Vision. At first, he didn’t appear and Wanda’s bravado faltered slightly as she looked out into the crowd.
You caught her eye and gave her an assuring nod.
Then Vision flying out of curtains and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Hello Westview! Good afternoon!” Still introducing, he stumbled down to the main part of the stage, bumping into a railing at some point and apologizing to it. He sort of settled and continued, “I am Glamour and this is my delightful assistant Illusion.”
“I am Glamour,” Wanda chimed in, talking and moving with even more animation than she normally would, “and he’s Illusion.”
“Yeah, what she said,” Vision said simply, then rambled on, “Tonight, we will lie to you, and yet you will believe our little deceptions because human beings are easily fooled due to their limited understanding of the inner workings of the universe.” He ended this definitely off-script statement with a matter-of-fact shrug and nod.
You regretted not going on first.
“Flourish!” Vision suddenly hollered, waving his hands in such a way.
This was going to be chaos, you decided, and it was.
Wanda and Vision’s act was a mess but at least it was an entertaining one. While the act did go on, Vision spent most of his time prattling on and yelling “Flourish!” while Wanda tried to keep things in check. Some of the tricks were good and even impressive at times before the “inner workings of the universe” became clear moments later. Vision’s first trick was to float up into the air, only for a pulley system to be revealed as Wanda moved a sign offstage. For the second, he picked up a piano with one hand only for the jarringly realistic instrument only for Wanda to slip up while carrying the one-dimensional prop away and show its bare wooden back with a large handle to grasp.
At one point, though, Vision trotted offstage and tried to perform a card trick for a friend while Wanda was helpless to stop him, but the end result was him going through an entire deck of cards trying to find the correct one. Then he went to pull Señor Scratchy out of his hat, only to find his hat laying on stage and Agnes’s rabbit hopping across it until Wanda managed to catch him and take him backstage.
Regardless of which tricks hit and which went wonky, the crowd, you included, seemed to love the Maximoff duo and hung onto the entire act. There were gasps and awes and you were personally still dumbfounded by the one where Vision pulled a hat through his body; the backstage curtains happened to fall at the perfect time to reveal a multitude of mirrors, only one of which that you knew had been back there previously, but a dull throb in the back of your head warned you to just let the mystery slide. After all, it wasn’t as fun if you spent the entire show pondering.
For Vision and Wanda’s final trick, Wanda brought out a large box called the Cabinet of Mysteries. At first, Vision stated that he was going to make his wife disappear but then he started locking up the Cabinet without her inside.
You caught Wanda’s act begin to slip again as her smile faltered and she began scanning the crowd. No else did, though, because Agnes suddenly hollered an offer of audience participation in the form of her husband, which caused everyone including Vision to laugh.
Then Vision was back to his trick, slapping the Cabinet’s side with a plastic wand and yelling, “Abrakadabra!”
“Uh, sweetheart,” Wanda murmured without breaking her pose.
Vision responded loudly, “Yeah?”
“Hi.”
“Oh.”
There was an awkward pause and you chewed your lip as you glanced around. People were waiting for the finale and Vision had just messed it up big time.
A chant of “What’s in the box?” started up.
Then you happened to look back to the stage just in time to make eye contact with Wanda as she looked around.
She grinned.
And then you were somewhere else, surrounded by darkness and wood panels.
You were only there for a moment but your eyes still needed a moment to adjust as Wanda and Vision open the Cabinet of Mysteries’ doors and you were greeted with a gasping and then applauding crowd. You blinked and, disoriented but not wanting to ruin Wanda and Vision’s successful grand finale, you put on your best smile and hopped out of the wooden box to strike a flourished pose.
“Ah-ha,” Vision voiced, seeming just as surprised as the crowd before grinning walking stepping up to your side.
Wanda stepped up to your other side and when you raised an eyebrow at her, she gave you a cheeky grin and mouthed, “Magic.” The wink she gave you afterward could have sent you to the moon but you still had your own performance to do. She made sure you were reminded of that by holding up a microphone.
Wanda and Vision each slipped an arm around your waist and you did the same to them despite their touch feeling very warm underneath the jacket of your uniform, and with one last “Flourish!” from Vision, the three of you bowed.
The three of you bowed two more times before standing fully again. Wanda and Vision began to move away from you but you slid your arms to grab their own, keeping them there.
Wanda leaned in slightly, talking through her smile. “What are you doing?”
“Grab the tambourine in my trunk and go sit by Agnes. Ask her to inform you and wait for the cue.” When Wanda looked at you with a raised brow, you mimicked her cheeky grin and wink, mouthing, “Music.”
Vision leaned in now, although way too close. “What are we doing?”
“Tambourine, apparently,” Wanda responded, stepping away from you. You figured they were going to go and do as you asked but instead, Wanda continued, “Vis, take the cabinet and grab the tambourine; I have an introduction to do.”
Vision stood around for a moment before doing what Wanda told him to and Wanda slipped her arm around your waist once more and brought you a few steps farther to the front of the stage.
Now sitting at the edge of it was Vision’s ukulele and the mic stand, probably courtesy of Geraldine.
With you close at her side and you unsure where to put your hands, Wanda attached the microphone she held to the stand and turned it on. “As Dottie has said several times tonight, thank you once more for coming to support Westview Elementary, for the children.”
“For the children,” the audience echoed, still mostly deadpan.
“I still haven’t seen a single one,” you muttered. This earned you a pinch to the hip from the hand around your waist and you suddenly felt like your body was the same temperature as the surface of the sun.
“Now,” Wanda continued without missing a beat, “allow me to introduce helper of Illusion and Glamour’s grand finale and the final final act of tonight’s talent show, [Y/N]!”
The audience clapped and Wanda did with it as she detached from your side and slipped backstage after giving you an electric smile. Suddenly, you were much more aware of being on a stage in front of your entire town, save for the two people you actually wanted to see in it.
“Um, yes, hello,” you said into the mic, standing a little too close. You didn’t know it was possible to feel the amount of heat burning behind your cheeks and ears, and you wished to could shed your jacket but figured that would ruin the ensemble. You shook your head to clear it as you bent down to pick up your ukulele—
—and when you stood back up, you spotted Wanda and Vision—who seemed to have sobered up somehow—sitting at Agnes’s table with a tambourine on the table between them.
You bit back a smile as your gaze flitted between them; they each gave you a smile in turn before you continued, “Um, so, as you heard, I am the final act. My name is [Y/N] and I will be performing a song, “Can’t Take My Eyes off You” by Frankie Valli, acoustic on ukulele.”
You strummed the ukulele once, just to make sure it was still in tune, then you began to play. You leaned back from the mic to clear your throat and after a couple of bars, you came in:
“You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you
You'd be like Heaven to touch
I wanna hold you so much
At long last, love has arrived
And I thank God I'm alive
You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you
Pardon the way that I stare
There's nothin' else to compare
The sight of you leaves me weak
There are no words left to speak
But if you feel like I feel
Please let me know that it's real
You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you”
You were a bit pitchy in the beginning but it didn’t take you too long to find where you needed to be, then it was smooth sailing from there; you even put a bit of a beat into it with a tap of your foot, which with a hard heel on a wooden floor in front of a silent crowd wasn’t too difficult to hear. At first, you kept your gaze pointed directly ahead and slightly above the crowd but as you began to relax and get into it, you couldn’t help but catch glances of a tapping foot here or a finger tapping on a glass cup there. Finally, your eyes drifted to where they wanted to be and you couldn’t look away from the pair seated next to Agnes even if you’d wanted to.
Vision was bopping along as he would when he was teaching you the chords and notes you were looking for, both feet and all ten fingers tapping, though his smile was particularly bright. Wanda was looking at you some type of sweet way, with that soft expression she’d had when you’d caught her in a dip earlier just today.
“I love you, baby
And if it's quite alright
I need you, baby
To warm the lonely night
I love you, baby
Trust in me when I say
Oh, pretty baby
Don't bring me down, I pray
Oh, pretty baby
Now that I've found you, stay
And let me love you, baby
Let me love you”
You wanted the first part of the song to be softer but as you hit the second part of the chorus you smoothly added in a little action. You put a little flourish in your strumming—and almost missed a word because the idea of calling it a flourish made you almost laugh—added a little more power to your voice, and cued Agnes in, who began clapping along to the proper beat. It didn’t take too long for your audience, especially those who’d you caught tapping along earlier, to join in until the entire crowd was doing it, and happened you catch Vision’s eye while he clapping along a little more animated than everyone else. He grinned, a little bashful by the look of it.
Once she’d gotten everyone in, Agnes stopped clapping herself and instead pulled a tambourine of her own out of her handbag. You watched her nudge Wanda, who stopped her clapping and picked up the other tambourine, then followed Agnes’s lead until she got a hang of it. You’d think two tambourines would be a little hard to hear over a sea of clapping but it was Agnes and Wanda and as usual, they figured out a way.
You knew you’d chosen a popular song and you knew that some people would know it in full but despite Agnes trying to convince you that she’d have everyone joining in, you definitely didn’t expect the entire crowd to be able to stay in sync and follow the ebbs and flows of the entire song. It really was a bit of a magical moment and you found with that thought, you found your eyes settling on Wanda, who was jamming away on her tambourine and dancing in her seat, without missing a beat.
She must have noticed because she raised her head and looked back at you.
The song ended not long after and you couldn’t help clapping for the crowd as they did for you. You took your second set of bows on stage that day, hollered a “Thank you” to the crowd, and took off to the section of backstage that was still hidden by curtains with a wave as Dottie took your place to do the talent show’s conclusion. With layers of dark fabric now between you and the rest of the talent show, you could only hear muffled voices, which was perfectly fine with you as you were too busy tossing your tux jacket and hat aside and shaking out the tautness in your limbs caused by the nerves of performing on your own in front of a decently sized crowd. Although, technically, you and the crowd were performing by the end of it.
You tried to tune in to Dottie’s voice as you bounced over to look yourself over in one of the mirrors left over from Vision and Wanda’s performance. Your outfit was intact, albeit a little bit ruffled from the dancing around you just finished doing, with your hair looking a bit flat from being stuck under a hat. Your face was flushed with a warmth that you felt from your toes to your hairline but what little makeup you wore looked just as it did earlier minus your lipstick having faded somewhat. The best and worst part of your current state, you thought, came from that part; the smile you were wearing was radiant but it was lasting so long that your cheeks were starting to hurt, and even if you purposely tried to frown it away, it popped back up a few seconds later.
Especially when you thought about how much Wanda and Vision were enjoying themselves, because of you.
“Um, excuse me.”
Your gaze turned its attention to look at the reflection of Geraldine, who was standing behind you, in the mirror. “Oh, hey.”
She smiled, pleased that you didn’t seem disrupted. “Your singing was really twitchin’, you had the whole crowd into it!”
“I think that was more Agnes’s glaring than anything, but thanks.” You sent a less starstruck smile at her in the mirror, then picked up your hat to fan yourself as you turned around to face her.
“Agnes is way out herself,” Geraldine agreed, though you saw her smile falter and caught her fingers tapping nervously on the clipboard she held. “She could probably out-power Dottie if she really wanted to.”
“She doesn’t,” you affirmed, “she likes to use Dottie as a reason to sneak drinks into social gatherings too much.”
Geraldine smiled again but she wouldn’t fully look at you and when she did, her eyes looked like they were searching for something.
“You okay?” When Geraldine looked at you, surprised, you nodded to her hands that couldn’t seem to keep still. “Seem a little unglued and you keep looking at me funny.”
“Oh, uh, well,” Geraldine stammered a bit, then stopped. She took a deep breath, then tried again, “I know we saw each other at Dottie’s earlier and before you went onstage but… Do you know me?”
Your eyebrows rose high up on your forehead.
“It’s just,” she continued, sounding like she was forcing herself to talk slower, “you look familiar to me and I’m wondering if you think the same thing.”
“I… I suppose I did when I first saw you,” you said, setting your hat aside. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, you couldn’t help glancing around; specifically, you looked towards the curtains separating you and Geraldine from the outside world and wished that wasn’t the case. “I figured we’d met in passing, tooling or something.”
When you looked back at Geraldine, it was as if your personalities had changed. You were the meek one, shifting around unsettled, while she stood watching you with a thoughtfulness that was far from the nervousness you saw in her earlier. “I don’t know where I’m from or why I’m here. Do you?”
You couldn’t be sure whether she was asking you about yourself or her but your head was suddenly too foggy to care. Foggy and throbbing with a pain that made darkness tinge the corners of your vision. You went to step to the side and steady yourself on a nearby chair but found yourself reeling backwards. You smashed into the mirror behind you, which smashed into the wall behind it and shattered; you managed to stumble away from it before you got too badly hurt but you still felt shocks of pain up your right arm and a particularly bad one in your hand as you caught glass.
Before you could run into something else or completely lose balance and fall to the ground, you slowly maneuvered to the floor and braced yourself on one knee and your unharmed hand and you were vaguely aware that Geraldine had disappeared. You squinted through blurriness at your other arm and watched as spots of blood bloomed across the white fabric of your sleeve, weeped from the gash across your palm.
No, wait.
Not only blood but color spread out your bleeding wounds. Flesh tone bled from your palm and color wetted the jewels on your bracelets and rings, color seeped from a tattered tear in your shirt and faded into the wooden floor in your line of vision, as if everything was on one piece of paper and watercolor paint was bleeding across the lines of a sketch.
“[Y/N?]” Vision’s voice called, “Are you back here?”
You tried to hide your hurt arm behind your back and jerked your head in the direction of voices getting closer. You immediately regretted the sudden movement and tried to blink away pain—
When you opened your eyes, you were standing, completely fine, in front of the mirror, completely unbroken, and fanning yourself with your hat with your other arm, completely unharmed, at your side. When your eyes flitted around, looking for Geraldine in the mirror’s reflection, she was nowhere backstage.
Instead, your eyes settled on Vision and Wanda walking through the curtains, smiling and animatedly chatting and holding a small trophy between them.
Once they were through the fabric they looked around, Vision’s bright eyes settling on you just a moment before Wanda’s did.
You could have melted. Whatever concern or worries you had just a moment earlier certainly did.
“[Y/N],” Wanda beamed, “look at what we won!” She pointed and Vision raised the trophy for you to properly see; you managed to read “Inaugural Comedy Performance of the Year” etched into its base before the pair walked over.
You turned to meet them, placing your hat back on your head and snagging your tuxedo jacket to slip back into. “A trophy, congrats!”
“We tried to get you to come up on stage with us,” Vision said, “but we couldn’t find you!”
He certainly seemed to have sobered up since you last stood face to face with him.
You apologized, “Sorry, I had to come backstage. I was overheated and far too overwhelmed by the crowd, I don’t think I could have it up there again either way!”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Her expression shifted from proud to worried in a moment and she went to press a hand to your forehead before she seemed to decide against it. “Are you feeling any better?”
You felt the need to take a quick glance around backstage, though you couldn’t explain why. Then you nodded. “I am, much. Actually, since I wasn’t able to join you on stage and congratulate you there, how about we all get changed into clothes a little less eye-catching and we have dinner at my place, hm? I’ll cook and everything.”
“They can cook?” Vision teased to Wanda without lowering his voice at all.
“They can,” you responded, giving his side a quick jab, then smiled and slid around them. Stopping at the edge of the stage, you offered out your arms to them both. “At least a little bit. Shall we?”
Wanda faked a thinking pose and when Vision caught on he did the same.
“We-ell,” Wanda sang, tilting her head from side to side, “Oh, alright, we shall.” She walked over, tugging Vision along with her, and they each linked arms with you.
The three of you headed offstage.
“I disagree about changing, though,” Vision claimed suddenly; both you and Wanda gave him a look. “I think we all look—”
“Smashing?” offered Wanda.
“Ravishing?” you suggested.
“—absolutely neato,” Vision finished, nodding. “And I think we should show off to the town!”
You shook your head but you were smiling. “I already showed off to the town enough today.”
“And I’m still showing off too much,” Wanda agreed. She kicked one stocking-covered leg out for good measure.
“Oh, fine.” Vision scoffed.
He certainly did not admit defeat, though, and spent the rest of the walk home trying to convince the two of you.
Wanda and Vision, without his human disguise, danced into their home after a lovely dinner at [Y/N]’s—they could cook a bit!—and as they walked through the door, Wanda spun herself into Vision’s arm.
Vision slightly dipped her and said in a voice that was an octave or two lower, “You were tremendous Glamour.”
“As were you, Illusion,” Wanda responded with a pearly smile. She stood up straight and walked over to put their new trophy on the coffee table as Vision shut the front door. “Oh, I don’t know what I was so worried about. It wasn’t so hard to fit in after all!”
Wanda sat and got comfortable on the couch and Vision soon followed. “And all we had to do was be ourselves.”
“Well, with a few modifications,” Wanda said as she curled in closer under her husband’s arm.
“And it was all for the children,” Vision said. Halfway through the phrase, Wanda joined in, then they chuckled and gently bumped their foreheads together.
Then Wanda leaned back into the couch and Vision’s side, quiet. She glanced around the room, absentmindedly playing with Vision’s fingers.
“Wanda, darling, is something wrong?”
Vision’s voice brought her attention back to him. She smiled, leaned in, and gave him a peck on the lips, then looked at their joined hands. Her smile faltered; she felt like something was missing.
“[Y/N] made this funny point at the talent show, about the ‘for the children’ thing; ‘I haven’t seen one yet’ or something like it,” she said out of the blue. “They were an angel with me today.”
“Oh?” Vision responded softly. He seemed to cue into her befuddled emotions and leaned back, looking at her intently.
“At Dottie’s,” she clarified, then added, “They also walked me home because I was a little shaken up. Very sweet.”
“That’s right,” Vision said, “You said something strange happened at Dottie’s today?”
“More like a few weird things,” Wanda confirmed, then recounted the details. Most of them anyway; she kept out the part about the radio talking to her for the sake of her and Vision’s sanity. It sounded legitimately insane and was probably the result of her fear at the time making her imagine things.
Then again, Dottie had heard it as well… She couldn’t confirm that [Y/N] had.
“My, that is indeed bizarre,” Vision said. His hairless brow furrowed. “Is Dottie alright?”
“Well, she must be,” Wanda replied, “She was perfectly fine at the show today and didn’t say a word about it, so…”
Vision gave a thoughtful nod, then shrugged. “Must be.”
They both faded into cozy, albeit wondering, silence. Wanda began playing with Vision’s fingers again and she happened to look towards the front door.
“Hey Vis?”
“Hm?”
“Do you think [Y/N]’s attractive?”
Vision took in an unneeded breath so fast that he almost choked on his tongue. He spluttered, “Pardon?”
“You know,” Wanda continued, turning back in his direction but not looking at him, “A fox. A hunk. Ravishing.”
If Vision could blush he probably would have. He removed his arm from around Wanda’s shoulders and scratched the side of his face. “I was feeling weird when I said that. You know, the gum. I didn’t mean—well that’s not to say they’re not attractive either! Because they are. I mean, they look fine, I certainly wouldn’t say unattractive by any means, and I quite like their company. But love, I didn’t mean anything serious by it, I didn’t mean to offend—”
“I think they’re attractive,” Wanda stated simply, bringing Vision’s rambling to a quick halt. Her gaze drifted back towards the front door and she briefly used her magic to view the home across the street. Some of the lights were still on; she imagined their dinner companion was in the kitchen, washing up the dishes from their meal.
She wouldn’t mind cooking with [Y/N] or washing dishes with them after meals. Or having both Vision and them coming home in the evenings.
“Oh. Um, well… Oh?”
“Quite like their company too,” Wanda went on, agreeing with one of Vision’s earlier statements. Her eyes moved to the plant [Y/N] had brought them not long after they’d first moved in; the plant had outgrown its old pot at this point but had its original ribbon still intact on the current one. “And they’ve always got manners and compliments and they’re always getting so nervous that they're going to come off the wrong way.”
“Yes,” Vision said slowly, “They treat me the same way. Sometimes, if I’m not working, I’ll come to work the next day and have files on my desk with little notes clipped to them. And they’ll sometimes even bring me a snack or a water cup after coming back from their break or lunch, even though I’ve never even pretended to drink or eat in front of them.”
“Well, to be fair,” Wanda said, “regular humans do just randomly eat and drink things, and they do think you’re a regular human.”
“I often wish they didn’t, though,” Vision mumbled, rubbing his jaw, “because I’m not a big fan of lying to them and pretending as I do. I keep their snacks in my drawer until I’m heading home and then throw it out on the way because I don’t want them to see and feel bad.”
Wanda nodded, understanding. “I’m not exactly jazzed about lying to them either.”
They simultaneously sighed and slumped together.
What odd feelings, Wanda thought, for a married couple to have about their neighbor across the street.
“Wanda?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Do you feel the same way about them as you do me?”
Wanda tilted her head from side to side and tapped her chin as she thought. “Not how I feel about you now, no. But how I felt about when I first met you? Maybe. Or, at least, something like it.”
Vision hummed. “They feel a bit familiar, don’t they?”
“And we have such a good time together, the three of us,” Wanda added.
A small spell of silence again.
Then Wanda said, “I think we should ask them on a date.”
Vision almost choked on his tongue again. “You think we should— I mean— You and me? As you and me together or you and me separately?”
“Why not both?”
Wanda’s husband’s eyes bugged out of his head. If they weren’t in the middle of a serious conversation, she may have laughed.
“Can we… Can we even do that?” Vision asked.
“I mean, I don’t see why not,” Wanda answered, shrugging. “It’s not illegal to date another person. Just marry them, I think. Actually, I’m not even sure if it’s illegal to do that.”
“But isn’t that… An affair? Of sorts?” Vision squinted, quickly glancing between his wife and the window, whose curtains shielded his view from the person in question’s home. It almost felt disrespectful talking about [Y/N] without them present, which was odd in itself.
“No, not if we’re both dating the person in question, I don’t think,” Wanda said. Her brows knitted together a bit but then she perked up and placed her hands on Vision’s thigh. “I know when we can do it!”
“When?”
“We forgot to get your ukulele back,” She responded with a big smile. “We can go get it and ask them on a date.”
“What would we even do on a… three-way date?” Vision cringed at himself. He would never call them a three-way again.
“Picnic,” Wanda offered, then listed off, “Dinner out. A walk. Trip to a passion pit for a movie. Dancing but that would require one of us to know how to dance. Maybe [Y/N] knows how to dance!”
“I know how to dance,” Vision said with a scowl.
“No, hon, you don’t, but you’re wonderful all the same,” Wanda said and kissed him on the nose. “Besides, the three of us have almost been attached at the hip since we’ve gotten to know each other; it wouldn’t exactly be odd for us to go out and do things together. Hell, we did the talent show together today and it went very well!”
“The gum?”
“It went decently well!”
Wanda could see Vision warming up to the idea just as much as she was. She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to come up with dates fit for three people.
After a moment, Vision gave her a solid nod. “Alright then! When we see them to get my ukulele, we’ll ask them on a date.”
“Yay!” Wanda clapped. “A date!” She hopped up from her seat and, drifting back to their previous conversation, she said, “Well, I think the children need some popcorn!” Vision said her name and she spun back to look at him. “Hm, what?”
Vision slowly stood and looked pointedly down at her stomach. She did too, then gasped and touched her ballooned out stomach. She looked as if she were a few months pregnant and after holding her stomach for a bit longer, she knew she was. Wanda looked up at her husband with a mixture of fear and wonder in her eyes; the look on his face mimicked her own.
“Vision,” she said softly, “is this really happening?”
Vision searched her face as he gently grasped her hands. His mouth quirked up just slightly as he answered, “Yes, my love, it’s really happening.”
They leaned for a kiss.
They were interrupted by a crash outside.
Both Wanda and Vision jumped as they looked towards the door. Then Vision scowled and released Wanda’s hands to walk over to the door.
“If it’s that damn tree again,” he loudly grumbled, “I am going to… rip it out by the roots!”
He walked outside and Wanda quickly followed.
You jumped back from your sink, almost dropping a dish in shock from the crash that had just come out front. You couple a couple breaths to calm yourself, then put your dish and drying rag down and headed to the living room.
“I swear,” you warned, loud enough so the trees outside could hear you, “I’ll come out there with a chainsaw! I don’t have one but I’ll find one and I’ll do it!”
You walked to the front door. You peeled back the curtain hanging from its window to see Wanda and Vision—who looked strange, though it was too dark outside to tell why—walking outside their own home and out to the sidewalk. You watched them, debating on whether to walk outside as well and help investigate or not.
“I don’t see anything!” you heard Wanda holler. Almost immediately, her and her husband’s gaze were drawn to a manhole cover in the middle of the street.
You followed their gaze and your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as the three of you watched the manhole slowly move out of place. From the corner of your eye, you saw Vision closer to Wanda, and you wished you could too, but you were stuck watching as someone climbed out of the now gaping hole in the road.
A… beekeeper?
A beekeeper and swarm of bees climbed out of the manhole.
You felt that now-familiar feeling again, foggy-headed but not in pain and fiercely protective of, this time, both her and her husband and her children.
Children?
You scrambled to get your front door open as the strange beekeeper of the sewer turned to look at the Maximoffs. You looked down to mess with the doorknob—
When you looked up again, you were standing on the front porch of the Maximoff house.
How weird.
You spun and looked around wildly, your eyes settling on the manhole cover closed tightly shut it in the street for just a few seconds longer than the rest of the environment, but everything seemed in order. Slowly relaxing, you turned back to your task of returning Vision’s ukulele.
You raised your right hand to knock, then stopped.
Color began blooming across your arm, beginning from the same spots you vaguely remembered cutting yourself on a broken mirror recently. This time, though, there were no cuts or blood, just gray tones coming to life in bright, vivid color. Gray turned to the color of skin and the green of your blouse—you’d thought it’d been green before but now you could properly see it—and when you spun around to observe the rest of the neighborhood, it was suddenly in color too. When you slowly, awestruck, turned back to Wanda and Vision’s house, it was wonderfully colored too, as was the ukulele in your lovely, now-in-color hand.
You grinned and excitedly knocked on the door, only for it to be opened moments later by Vision, wearing a very nice yellow and blue sweater or a white-colored shirt.
“Oh, [Y/N]!” He said it in a way that was a little too loud and he nervously glanced over his shoulder at Wanda, who stood a few feet back in a beautiful outfit of bright red with her hands on her expecting stomach.
You really did like her shirt.
You just liked her.
You just liked her and her husband quite a lot.
“Sorry, bad time?” You held out Vision’s ukulele to him. “I finished cleaning up and was about to go to bed when I noticed this still sitting on my coffee table.”
“Oh, that’s perfect!” Vision chirped, still just a little too loud than necessary.
“Oh, goodness, Vis, come inside.” Wanda walked over and nudged Vision out of the way, then smiled at you and took the ukulele out of your hand.
“Remember when we first met and you said he wasn’t always like that?” you quipped with a crooked smile, which broke into a cheek-hurting grin when Wanda giggled in response.
“Suppose I hadn’t realized it yet,” Wanda teased back. She offered the ukulele to Vision, who was still standing nearby and who was now pouting, then she moved to do the side. “Would you like to come in for a drink? We were just talking about you.”
Now you were the awkward one. “Um, yeah, sure.” You stepped inside and, glancing again at Wanda’s belly, added, “I can’t believe I forgot a baby gift. Congratulations, if I haven’t said it already.”
Wanda blinked, then shut the door behind you. “Oh nonsense. There’s plenty of time left for that.”
“I feel like it came out of nowhere; they might be here sooner than you think!”
Summary: [Y/N] is still recovering from one of the worst migraines they’ve ever had and they have the scars to prove it… Wait. Those scars weren’t there before and they certainly weren’t from passing out on the sidewalk a few days prior!
Word count: 9,361
Warnings: Mentions of (not super graphic) death and mental illness. Also Reader being just a little horny on main, but what’s new; almost 9.5k words and they’re simping for most of them. Lots of dorky fluff and also talking about insecurities.
Tag list: @madamevirgo @ravennight41 @multifandomgirl16 @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend
~~~
In the black void of otherwise dreamless sleep, voices were conversing.
“[Y/N] [L/N]…” one started.
[Y/N] [L/N]. Age twenty-five. Born to Killian and Alice [L/N] in [city, state] but Dad wasn’t in the picture. No siblings, no living relatives. They wanted to go to school for botany but Mom was diagnosed with early-onset dementia while they were still in high school, so they changed their career path to neurology in hopes of finding a way to help her. She still lives in their hometown.
“Oh, wait,” another voice chimed in, almost indistinguishable from the first, “I know this one. Oh, God.”
[Y/N] was an Honors student, at the top of all their classes. A degree in neurology with phytotoxicology on the side. They took an internship in Europe one year and somehow found themselves in Sokovia. HYDRA was still laying low at the time, caught wind of them.
“Wait,” a third voice, this one easier to differentiate from the other two. “They’re HYDRA?”
The second voice responded, “Former.”
[Y/N] had no idea what they were getting into. HYDRA, always good at hiding in the shadows; they brought [Y/N] in under the guise of an assistant job studying new forms of neural regeneration. A job that paid well enough to live comfortably and even send a little extra home, while developing something that just might solve all their mother’s problems? It was a dream come true.
Fortunately for HYDRA but unfortunately for [Y/N], they were very good at their job too. They helped HYDRA develop all kinds of nasty stuff. Nanobots that changed brain chemistry, near foolproof brainwashing tech— They even helped develop special toxins, one of the world’s deadliest poisons. All the while, thinking they were doing something good.
“How is that possible?” the original voice asked. “How could they have been so oblivious?”
“One-track mind?” the second voice offered, “Plus misinformation on HYDRA’s part and ‘routine health checks’ with something a little extra mixed in.”
“They were tested on?”
“A victim of almost everything they’d helped create, except the fatal stuff and anything that would disrupt business as usual. IVs and shots full of toxins, nanobots being released into their room while they slept.”
The third asked, “What changed?”
“Wanda.”
[Y/N] stumbled upon Wanda and her brother by pure accident. They’d been late that day and in their hurry, ran through a wrong door to where HYDRA was keeping Sokovian volunteers for testing. The twins were the youngest in their group, [Y/N] was only a couple of years older and the youngest in their division. It was a match made in heaven, really.
“Try hell,” the first voice suggested with a scoff.
The other voices offered their murmured agreements.
“So they knew each other,” the third voice said, “Before.”
That’s when [Y/N] started pulling at threads and HYDRA’s costume began to unravel; their one-track mind had switched gears. There was something too weird about the whole thing, these Sokovian civilians had stories that didn’t line up with [Y/N]’s own.
“And they believed them?”
They believed Wanda. She and her brother were just two more Sokovian citizens suffering at the hands of war and wanting to help their people. They had no reason to lie. They had more reason to be honest to [Y/N] than HYDRA ever did, actually. It was just a bonus that for Wanda and [Y/N], being around each other was like being a moth drawn to a flame.
[Y/N] may have been naive but they were far from stupid. When they figured out what was going on, they wriggled their way deeper into HYDRA’s ranks under their own disguise of loyalty. They became a full-fledged HYDRA agent, tasked with assisting in neural and poisonous weaponry. They weren’t able to protect Pietro and Wanda from testing, obviously—not that Wanda would have let them; she and her brother still believed they were being tested on for the greater good—but they did their best to stay nearby and keep the Maximoffs’ sanity intact for as long as they could. They even managed to save a couple of the other test victims by injecting them with temporary poisons that lowered their heart rate to the point of appearing dead. When the bodies were dropped off, the poison wore off not long after and some of the victims were able to escape. No side effects to be seen.
“I have a question,” Original voice said abruptly. “Why do we know this much information on one person? Like, this is some in-depth, intimate stuff. Why do we know that [Y/N] and Wanda had the hots for each other since day one?”
Second voice answered, “We’ve done extensive research on [Y/N]. The result of an investigation on the person who caused the apprehension of an entire faction of HYDRA after successfully poisoning them.”
The tests that were done on [Y/N] were not without their outcomes. They gained the ability to transform almost any matter into almost any other form.
“Huh,” Third voice hummed, “That reminds me of a series of disappearances a few years back. One house was replaced by rose bushes and another—get this—burned down because the roof had been turned to lava. Whoever it was, they either stopped on their own or died. What were they called?”
“The Alchemist,” Second stated simply, much to Third’s dismay. “And those were incognito HYDRA agents.”
After Pietro died and Wanda disappeared—not really disappeared, just left with the Avengers—[Y/N] had a choice to make. They were far too deep into HYDRA’s work now, the awful things that they had done were beginning to weigh on them, as Wanda and her brother had been just as grounding for [Y/N] as [Y/N] had been for her. After she was gone, they had a hard time dealing with the horrible business going on around them. So they did what they knew how to do; they mixed up a combination of poison and nanobots.
[Y/N] had fully committed to perishing with the rest of their coworkers but apparently, the poison hadn’t been quite strong enough. They’d made a miscalculation in a time of poor mental state and woke up the next day to hear that not all of the HYDRA agents had died either. At least the survivors had been taken in for the time being but that just wasn’t enough for them; they’d had a right to be concerned too because HYDRA had a habit of getting themselves out of sticky situations. This case was no different.
[Y/N] most likely felt responsible for having a hand in HYDRA’s dirty work, for not doing more, and they must have felt even more responsible when they learned that HYDRA was a much bigger problem than they could have ever imagined.
First blurted, “Well, what happened next?”
Second answered, “They went after agents until they got caught, the only way they knew how.”
The second miscalculation that they’d ever made got them caught. The agent put a gun to [Y/N]’s head and pulled the trigger.
“So are they dead too?” First asked. The voice seemed to quiver.
The third voice hemmed and hawed a bit before saying, “They must have, with the way all this weirdness had been going. Oh my god, poor Wanda, not one dead partner but two—”
Second spoke over the other two voices’ rambling, forcing them to calm down and listen. “They didn’t die, though, they—”
The voices started cutting out like the dream was a TV program being interfered by a poor connection and static.
“—Found by—Barely alive—Hospital—Braindead—Westview—Find a doct—”
Suddenly gunshots sounded, one followed by several more, and the darkness cracked and shattered, revealing blinding light behind it. A silhouette walked silently through the wall of light; it was Geraldine—no, Monica—poised with a gun in the outfit she helped deliver Maximoff twins in. As she walked forward, crossing from a plane of burning white to one of void black, the image of her warped and distorted until it changed. Monica, looking much more modern, in a uniform that included a bulletproof vest and a lanyard with S.W.O.R.D. printed at the top, moving carefully towards a broken and bleeding body on the ground with another in a heap behind her. The image distorted and changed again, and the first body was sitting on their knees and looking up defiant defeat. The person they were looking at was no longer Monica but a bulky figure in a dark outfit with straps in the form of an H across their chest, the body that had been laying in a battered pile behind Monica just a moment earlier. The H-adorned assailant held a still-raised gun to the kneeling person’s forehead.
[Y/N] could only spit at their feet before another gunshot sounded and the image disappeared to black.
You woke up sweating and choking on your breath. Your brain, throbbing with a pain that shot through it like a bullet, didn’t register fast enough that you were standing instead of laying down so when you flailed, you threw yourself off balance and fell forward. Catching a quick glimpse of your surroundings on your way down told you that you were somewhere outside and that it was the dead of night. You tried last minute to brace yourself for a concrete-laden impact.
You were instead greeted with soft fabric and arms wrapping tightly around you.
“Goodness, [Y/N], are you quite alright?”
You squinted at the striped sleepwear for a moment before looking up where Vision’s worried gaze and whirling irises were waiting for you; it took your eyes a moment to fully focus as the pain in your head faded but left a faint ringing behind. Then you looked around at your surroundings; not only were you outside but you were standing in Vision and Wanda’s driveway. Your gaze settled on a particular section of the house’s exterior where you vividly remembered a vaguely human shape exploding out of its walls.
You were standing in the exact same place you had been when it happened.
“[Y/N]?” Vision said again, drawing your attention back to him.
“Oh, cosmo, I’m sorry,” you said but your throat was too dry and you had to stop and clear your throat halfway through. Being in Vision’s arms, you were keenly aware of the fact that you were both in your bedwear and that yours had been sweated through. You slumped against him, partially to hide your embarrassed face but also because you felt like you hadn’t slept at all.
“Vis?”
“Yes, my favorite teacup?”
You snorted softly at that. “You don’t even drink tea.”
“Oh, I know,” Vision lilted back. Then he nuzzled his face into your hair. “I do like the patterns and the daintiness of them though.”
That time you laughed a bit. Feeling his warm breath against your scalp and his strong arms holding you safely in place against him, you almost instantly melted into the embrace. You wrapped your own arms around him and pressed your face into his chest. “What are we doing outside?”
“Ah, yes, about that. You appeared to be sleepwalking again.”
You groaned. “Again? This is a nightmare.”
One of Vision’s hands moved to run itself through your hair and down your neck. “That accident you had the other day certainly did a number on you.”
The accident. In other words, that time where you walked off in the middle of a conversation with Vision, Agnes, and Herb to mumble at a wall and then faceplant onto the sidewalk. Not only was your nose still recovering but your mind and dignity as well.
“The only time I’ve slept well since is when I fell asleep on your couch,” you whined. Then you lowered your voice and grumbled into Vision’s chest.
Vision chuckled. “What was that?”
You looked up at him and scowled. “The four of you are over here in your stupid, big, warm, cozy house. Meanwhile, I’m across the way, alone and uncomfortable, with only Bernard to keep me company. Bernard’s terrible company.”
“Truly,” Vision agreed, grinning slightly. He loved your strange, cute, not at all challenging struggles.
The both of you turned to give the lawn ornament in question a pointed look. Bernard seemed to glower back.
“Well,” Vision said as he pulled away from you a bit, “why don’t you come inside then? Wanda’s up with the babies anyway. You might as well join us, especially if it means you’ll be able to sleep better.” Not taking no for an answer, the synthezoid was already tugging you towards the lit-up porch.
You were too tired to argue and, quite frankly, you didn’t want to, so you allowed yourself to be pulled along as you admired the soft cotton of Vision’s matching pajama set.
“Oh, my.”
“What?” You looked at Vision’s face again only to catch him staring at a spot above your eyes. The porch light glinted off the gem embedded in his own. “What, do I have something on my face?”
“No,” Vision responded slowly, “but you must have done something to it. You have quite the scar.”
Your eyebrows raised. You moved away from him to look at your reflection in one of the windows and surely enough, you had a raised scar on your forehead, near your hairline. You gingerly pressed your fingers against it; it certainly wasn’t new.
A seemingly random thought popped into your head. Is that… a scar from a bullet?
“What on earth did you do to yourself?” Vision asked. Him walking up to stand directly behind you and press his hands to your neck, under the collar of your shirt no less, was more than a little distracting. “You’ve got one back here too.”
You reached back to where Vision was touching and when he removed his fingers, you could feel a similar scar at the base of your neck.
You thought again, Bullet… exit wound…?
Something about the dream you were having earlier called out to you but you couldn’t remember anything about it. When you tried to think about it further, the excruciating pain came back in waves and you had to steady yourself on the windowsill to prevent yourself from collapsing.
“No, I don’t think so. They don’t hurt at all, though.” To make a point, you pressed down hard on the raised scar on your forehead, watched the skin turn a few shades lighter before releasing the pressure and dropping your hand again. Under the thick, stiff tissue, you barely felt the pressure at all.
Vision thoughtfully hummed, placing his hands back on the curves of your neck; you prayed to whatever deities existed that you didn’t make any sounds you’d regret.
“Well,” your partner said, “I suppose that’s better than nothing.”
A pause. Your eyes stayed trained on the window’s reflection, specifically where you could see Vision’s fingers gently cupping your neck.
Then he abruptly leaned down and pressed a kiss on the scar tissue, missing a pulse point by a hair. “We should head inside then.”
You had to take a solid minute to recover from the shockwave of tingles that briefly made your veins turn into lightning. Then you shuffled after Vision into the ever so inviting house.
Stepping out of chilly darkness and into a home of cozy furniture and warm light that turned the entire place a golden brown felt like walking into another world. An extra added layer of comfort to the usually perfect home was the slight disarray of baby equipment almost everywhere that wasn’t the floor itself, most of which you had gone out and bought during the babies’ day of birth and all of which Vision and Wanda appreciated; somehow, you had prepared for the babies’ accelerated growing on a panicked whim better than the Maximoffs. Tiny baby blankets and stuffed animals were strewn about and each visible part of the house—the living room, the dining area, and the kitchen, although the kitchen was partially blocked off by a drying rack of baby clothes and swaddles of various patterns and sizes—had a designated Baby Tray. These trays, perched on whatever flat surface had been previously free of decor or clutter, held bottles, nonperishable treats, diaper-changing equipment, teething toys, a mini first aid kit for each, and other useful trinkets; the new parents had apparently completely forgotten that almost all their house’s rooms were openly attached to each other and that, if one singular Baby Tray was designated to the dining area, it would take the same amount of about five steps to get to it from either the living area or the kitchen. It was almost comedic, the number of baby care items that were laying anywhere but the floor or in proper storage because, according to Vision, god forbid something gets a speck of dust on it and have to be washed or, according to Wanda, one of the babies be without their favorite toys easily accessible at every given moment. The only thing allowed to touch the ground, aside from feet, was a playpen that now replaced the usual coffee table in the living room area and a play mat in the babies’ room with its attached toys for the twins to play with. A final touch to the hominess was the soft light that you could see streaming out of the baby room’s open door, and the gentle voice of Wanda, singing a Sokovian lullaby, fluttering out of it.
It felt like coming home.
Vision stepped away from your side to clean up somewhat, picking up a few toys and folding baby blankets and onesies to move them aside in case you wanted to make yourself comfortable on the couch. Standing inside now, you could much better make out Vision’s dark blue terry robe over a pair of bright yellow pajama pants that no doubt had a shirt to match hidden beneath dark blue fabric. The yellow of his pants matched the yellow gem that was embedded in his forehead, glittering with an unused power that you had yet to experience and that felt warm whenever you went to place a kiss on it. Poking out from the hems of his robe and pants were perfectly human hands and feet, despite their deep red color that matched the rest of his body; you found the continued presence of fingernails when not in his human disguise—absolutely unnecessary to his design, he’d pointed out when you initially asked about them—weirdly cute and continuously felt the urge to grab nail polish and paint them to match either the color of the gem or the same silver as the plating that started at his scalp and trailed down beneath the collar of his shirt. You briefly wondered how far that plating traveled across his body before mentally kicking yourself.
The greatest thing about this still-fresh reveal of Vision’s inhuman identity—aside from the fact that he was no longer hiding something important from you, obviously—was that you now knew that he wasn’t just difficult to make blush but rather he quite literally couldn’t blush. You wondered what else he could and couldn’t do, only to mentally kick yourself again.
I can’t tell if I’ve gotten worse or better since I’ve started dating them, you thought.
Oh, your brain responded on its own accord, so much worse.
Shhh!
Vision was still puttering why while you stared and inwardly argued with yourself. At this point, he’d cleaned up most of the chaos and moved the stuffed animals and now-folded blankies to sit neatly on the dining area table.
“Vis,” you said.
Before you could continue, the man perked up and looked in your direction. “Yes, duck?”
You blinked. “You make my heart go rainbow-colored. Anyway—” You broke off into a laugh when Vision went flustered, his hands flapping about while he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “Did I win this round?”
Sometimes Vision got into the habit of ending all of his sentences around you and Wanda with a pet name. When you had first noticed this feat, you’d decided to start doing the same, just to see what would happen. He noticed and began purposely doing it back, where he had previously done it unintentionally, and now doing the occasional back-and-forth conversation that ended in pet names more than punctuation was somewhat of a competition between you two.
Vision scoffed at you, picked up a plushie, and tossed it at you. “Not fair!”
Being in the house that was beginning to feel more like home than your own, around your partners and their sweet baby boys, seemed to shield and reenergize you from the exhaustion you felt after first waking up that night. You caught the stuffed animal, a plushie of a wizard, grinned and tossed it back at him.
“Oh,” Vision chirped, catching the plush wizard again, “I see how it is.” He puffed out his chest and gave you a warning, albeit amused, glare, then picked up a couple more plushes. In a lower, sort of growling voice that made your heart leap out of your chest and into your stomach, he continued, “If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you shall get.”
You yelped as he started in your direction and dived across the front of the couch to get some stuffed animal ammo of your own. He nailed you in the foot with a cream-colored bunny and you returned the favor with a plushie of a witch in a red dress after taking cover behind the playpen. Now each of you was standing where the other had previously been, with you poking your head over the playpen’s sheer wall and Vision slowly pacing around the back of the couch for his second lap. You pulled the playpen with you with one hand as you moved away from him and the two of you began circling each other.
Oh, if Wanda could see her partners now.
“Oh, Wanda—” you started to stand, only to get smacked in the face with a blue teddy bear; luckily, it was of the very soft variety. You stared at Vision in disbelief.
Vision stared back, eyes bulging, unsure of whether he should apologize or prepare for an attack. He was too torn to do either, though, and had to scramble back to avoid an onslaught of stuffed bullets flying his way.
Still aware that it was very late at night, your war-cry was softened, “Revenge!”
Then your attack quickly diminished, partially because you were running out of ammo and Vision wasn’t throwing anything back and partially because Vision was now floating off the ground and heading towards you, arms full of said ammo.
Wow, didn’t know it did that, you thought randomly, eyes fixed Vision floating in general, before specifically fixating on the devilish grin he wore while doing so. He looked like a very handsome, well, vision.
A handsome Vision, if you will, your brain offered. You almost snorted before remembering you had not yet moved to avoid Vision’s floating plushie attack. You stumbled backward and scrambled out of the living room just as Vision started throwing.
“No no no no no nonononono—” You were choking between laughter and squawking as you got up and began running down the hallway to save yourself. “Not fair, not fair not fair, not fair—!”
You ran past the baby room and caught Wanda mid-turnaround, saying, “What on earth is going on out there?” You reeled back to pause in the doorway, caught a glimpse of the babies in their one large crib, smiled, went to pant out an answer—
Only to feel arms wrap around you and drag you back down the hallway. You started to shriek, then forced it into a startled laugh as to not disturb the babies, and flailed around in Vision’s arms as he lifted you off the ground. It was brief, though, because then your struggling caught Vision off balance and the two you tumbled to the ground. There, you both harmlessly pummeled each other until you both were out of breath and snickering, and you somehow ended up with his top half under you but his legs pinning down your own.
“You can fly?” you bubbled. You grabbed his face and squished his cheeks in your hands. “What the hell?”
He laughed and nodded, and one of his hands caught your own. He glanced up at you as he kissed your palm and replied, “Yes, just a little.”
“Just a little—”
“And his wife can move things with her mind, like the crib she just finished rocking to put the boys back to sleep, and if she has to do it again because of her partners’ roughhousing…”
You and Vision quickly disentangled yourselves from each other and looked up at Wanda, whose face said serious but whose eyes twinkled with amusement and who looked no less terrifying in a pale pink, puff-sleeved nightgown.
You got up and straightened your clothes, with Vision following closely behind. “I will very happily take over the next shift because I started it and I’m very sorry.”
“What? Nonsense, [Y/N], I threw the first stuffed animal.”
“I threw it back,” you pointed out.
“Neither of you better have thrown and hit something,” Wanda warned.
You glanced at Vision for confirmation; you didn’t exactly see much when you were chucking plushies aplenty and then running from your flying boyfriend.
Vision nodded. “Nothing at all, although I did make the evaluation that we do have a plethora of plushies and baby blankets.”
“I thought I was the one who pointed that out when you first gave me the shopping list, but okay,” you huffed under your breath, then grinned with Vision lightly bumped you with his hip. “So, the babies having a bad night?”
“Actually, they were apparently worried about you,” Wanda said.
That made your head do a confused tilt. “Me?”
“Ah, yes,” Vision nodded, “We fell asleep with them in the living room and Billy started crying. We woke up to figure out what was wrong and Wanda saw you standing outside.”
Wanda added, “Tommy started crying shortly after I walked to the door with him like he wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Aww,” you cooed, peering over Wanda’s shoulder to see the babies. She stepped to the side so you could walk in and shuffle over to the crib, and she and Vision stood nearby as you crouched down to brush a hand over their little sleeping heads. You continued, much softer this time, “Were the boys trying to make sure I was safe? Are they my little protectors? My little superheroes?”
Tommy gurgled happily in his sleep. Billy remained quiet but his head leaned into your hand.
You looked up at their parents with big, awestruck eyes to see them leaning comfortably into each other, watching you with the same level of affection you felt for them and their babies.
“Heroes indeed,” Vision said. He walked over as you stood up again and lightly rocked the crib; Wanda strolled over to join the group. He continued to the twins in baby-talk, “But no hero-ing until after college, my little honeydews. For now, leave the protecting to your parents.”
“Especially this one,” Wanda chirped, making her way over to your side and slipping her arm around your back. “They’re a handful.”
You faked a gasp, “I’m a treasure.”
“You’re a putz,” Wanda said simply, with a smirk and a light pinch to your hip.
You gasped harder and stared at her with utter betrayal.
“A goof,” Vision chimed in. He slipped his own arm around you, the final piece of your three-person puzzle.
You gasped harder still— and almost choked on air. Then you looked to the babies. “Bullies! Bullies, both of them! Billy, Tommy, you must protect me!”
Very enthusiastically, neither baby did anything.
“I’ve been betrayed yet again,” you cried, not too loudly, though. You slumped against Vision and Wanda’s waiting arms. “Betrayed by my own brood!”
“Your brood?” Wanda questioned, quirking a brow. Vision was giggling softly at your other side.
“Yes,” you whispered, looking at her with wide, distraught eyes, “My brood. My pack. My murder.”
“Your what?” Vision said.
“It’s a group of crows,” you explained under your breath, before slumping down farther and continuing your distraught monologue. “I’m all alone! Oh, the horror—”
“Well,” Wanda said, “We’re supporting you very well a family that has completely abandoned you.”
You flopped your head back in her direction. You were so far to the ground now that you were practically on your knees, only your arms and shoulders being held by Wanda and Vision. You traced fingers lamely across each of their arms. “So strong, those who once held me…”
The married couple exchanged an amused but mysterious look.
“Wanda, darling,” Vision said, “They seem to have gone delusional.”
Wanda nodded sagely in response. “Clearly lost their mind.”
You squinted, glancing between them. What were they up to?
“To the ward with you,” Wanda suddenly announced.
Then you caught a red glow by your feet, but not fast enough before you were swept up into the air on a cloud of red mist. You burst into startled laughter but quickly slapped a hand over your mouth so you didn’t wake up the children. Once you relaxed—enough to stop laughing anyway, not enough to not be freaking out about being magically escorted out of the nursery—you waved your hands through the red; it felt like waving your hands through the open air. The only thing actually felt was the pressure on the back of your body that was holding you afloat and carrying you out of the room, but when you tried to balance on it and move to a different position, all you did was squirm and twist awkwardly in the air before flopping back down. You craned your neck, mostly to make sure Tommy and Billy hadn’t woken up from your outburst, but you only caught Wanda, hands glowing red, following you out of the room and Vision trailing after wishing his babies a goodnight.
You looked back at the ceiling for a moment. After you heard the nursery door shut, you asked at a normal volume, “I’m not gonna fall, right?”
“Not unless I let you,” Wanda reassured you. You couldn’t see her but the teasing tone of her voice made you imagine her with a smirk. A smirk, narrowed eyes, her pretty nightgown floating around her, magical powers that she could definitely use to crush you if she wanted to and you’d probably thank her if she did.
Wow, okay, I either need to confess my sins or go to sleep.
“Why?” Wanda asked suddenly.
“Why what?” you choked back, heat rushing to your face. Surely, she couldn’t read your thoughts…
“Why ask if you would fall?”
Oh.
“Oh.” You started flopping around in the cloud of magic, testing the proverbial waters; you were being taken to the living area now. You heard both Wanda and her husband laughing from beneath and behind you when you settled again.
Vision asked through chuckling, “What could you possibly be doing?”
You suddenly flung yourself to one of the magic surrounding you, thinking maybe you would fall through, but the magic held. You huffed and laid back again but not before you caught a glimpse of the couch that you now hovered over. You grasped at the magic again, watching it wisp through your fingers but feeling nothing at all. “This is so cool.”
Wanda’s voice was softer when she spoke this time. “You think?”
You couldn’t hold back the disbelieving laughter that bubbled up. Suddenly breathless out of sheer excitement of learning more about the people you cared for most, you sighed, “Wanda, baby, you must know that you’re amazing.”
Then you squawked as the magic suddenly disappeared around you, but instead of falling straight to the couch below, Vision flew up to catch you. He held you bridal style as he gently dropped back to his feet next to the couch, grinning—he very rarely just smiled, it was always a big, happy grin when it was directed at you or Wanda or the babies—and giving you a peck on the forehead when you stared up at him, doe-eyed.
“Got my own Superman, too,” you said, “Damn.”
Vision plopped you down on the couch. “Who?”
“Comic book character,” you responded with a wave of your hand, “Doesn’t matter. You’re far better looking than him anyway.”
You shifted a bit to get more comfortable and watched as glowing red magic started swirling all around you. The magic was misty, red around the edges and glowing orange-white in the center, picking up the scattered toys from your and Vision’s scuffle and tossing them into the playpen, pulling said playpen out of the way and sliding the original coffee table back from its place against the wall, picking up any other stray blankets or baby items and placing them neatly out of the way; it also straightened out Vision’s robe and ruffled your hair. Part of the magic moved out of your line of vision, so you twisted to follow it and saw it taking the baby clothes off the drying rack to fold and put on the counter next to it, then continued watching as it folded the rack itself and moved it out of the way.
Wanda was now in your sight again too; she was standing still, palms up with magic flowing outward from the red clouds around them, and looking around to see if there was anything else she needed to put away. She was also blushing, from you calling her baby or saying she’s amazing, you couldn’t tell. After staring for probably way too long, probably looking at her with the same starry-eyed, dopey look that a teenager had at their first concert or after a first kiss, her gaze flitted to yours and made a nose-scrunching face at you before finishing her magical cleanup and making her way over to the couch as well.
You slumped back in the pile of throw pillows behind you, covered your face with your hands, and flutter-kicked your feet few times. “This is so cool!”
You felt a nudge at your feet and you raised your legs so he could sit, then did the same with your head when you felt Wanda’s hand brush across your forehead. When they were both seated, you laid your legs and head on their respective laps and the three of you settled into the comfortable position that had been adopted long after your relationship had started.
That is until you quickly sat up again. “Is that how you unpacked your house so quickly?”
Wanda smiled and nodded. She rested a cheek in the palm of her hand, endeared by your wonderment towards her powers.
“Is that you unpacked my house?”
Another nod.
“And the magic show was real— Wait.” You scowled. “But all the pulleys and stuff.”
“That was, ah, my bad,” Vision offered with a raised hand.
“Covering for him actually using his powers,” Wanda explained.
“I knew the mirrors didn’t make sense with you putting your hat through your body!” you exclaimed. “So flight, super strong, and… not sure what to call that last one. What was with you that day, by the way? You acted drunk, but you can’t get drunk!”
“I swallowed some gum,” Vision muttered, glancing away and rubbing the side of his neck. His other hand waved towards his torso as he continued, “It got all… stuck. Gummed up my gears, if you will.”
Wanda rolled her eyes at the pun. You snickered at it.
“I had to magic it out of him,” she added.
Your gaze flitted back and forth between your two superhuman partners multiple times as you took in the information. Because you were sitting between the two, this involved the turning of your head various times, which made your head swim a bit. You almost wished that they were both sitting to one side of you.
Instead of suggesting this, you settled your gaze to stare aimlessly ahead and said simply, “I’m dating two of the weirdest, coolest, most stellar people in the world. How the hell did I manage that?”
“Charisma,” Vision offered, even though you and him both knew at this point how you’d weirdly creeped on him at the office the first day the two of you met.
“Sheer force of will,” Wanda suggested, but you guaranteed she was remembering how, for the few dates you went on with them, you’d had to be reminded that you were actually on dates and that they weren’t just casual friendly hangouts.
You looked between them once more and then you wished you had suggested they sit to one side of you. Despite their steady, comfortable voices, Wanda was in the process of hiding her flustered face behind the curtain of her hair and Vision was chewing on his lip and couldn’t seem to keep his hands and feet from tapping away.
“Okay,” you said after a moment, patting your thighs to do something with your hands. “I’m grasping that you guys don’t agree with me here. Wanda, go sit by him so I don’t get whiplash from trying to look at you both.”
You and Wanda quickly switched places. You sat cross-legged on the couch to face them and Wanda and Vision shifted around to sit in a way that allowed them to face you without one blocking the other. After a moment, you waved your hands at them; the cheery air has since faded into something more somber. “What is it? Tell me why you get all quiet like that when I tell you, with evidence, why you’re the actual grooviest people I’ve ever met.”
There were a few more moments of silence before Vision went to speak first, which surprised Wanda. She looked at him, eyebrows raised high on her forehead, and lightly grasped his wrist.
“Vis?” she murmured.
He sighed softly and placed his other hand over hers. “Oh, it’s really nothing dear, I promise. It’s just… Well, you’ve heard how the people of the cul-de-sac talk about us sometimes.”
“Mean girls,” you grumbled under your breath with a nod, “the lot of them sometimes.”
Wanda seemed to suddenly sag with sadness and both you and Vision reached over quickly to hold her.
“Oh, darling,” Vision said, “It’s not your fault—”
“That’s not true,” Wanda whispered.
“It is true,” Vision said, and this time he said it with a fierceness that was familiar to you, whenever Wanda was being treated poorly by people like the Queen of the Cul-de-Sac, Dotty, or when Wanda decided to get down on herself. He grasped her shoulders tightly, squeezed them until she looked up at him. “Wanda, darling, love, I didn’t exist before I meant you. I mean, I did, of course, I did, but I was just this strange, non-human, non-machine thing that was just… kind of… there. It was you that gave me an existence, Wanda. You made me human.”
Both you and Wanda stared at him, surprised. Wanda stared because she obviously didn’t fully agree with his opinion of her. You stared because of course, you were dating two of the weirdest, coolest, most stellar, and most romantic people ever.
Get yourself a man like that, you thought. Then after a moment, Wait, that is in fact also my man.
“And you—” Vision said, turning his head in your direction.
“Oh, I’m next?” you stammered. “I thought it was Wanda’s turn.”
Vision still held Wanda but also reached over to tightly grasp your hand and bring it to his mouth. “I just wished we could have confessed to you sooner. I just hate, hate, hated lying to you and now you’re involved with all this too—”
The synthezoid with the English accent looked up at you with eyes begging forgiveness as if he’d committed one of the worst sins imaginable. You let out a hoarse laugh and ran your thumb across the side of his hand.
“I’m sorry,” you said, still chuckling as you wriggled closer to your couple, “but as much as you might like to think you’ve subjected me to something I didn’t sign up for, I’d like to point out that I’ve been about a month ahead of you. I was here before you.” You felt a nagging urge to look at Wanda and repeat the last sentence, and there was something extra special about saying it that second time like there was a double and then a triple meaning behind it, but the way you both furrowed your brows afterward made it clear that neither of you really knew what those meanings were.
Not yet, anyway.
You cleared your throat and removed your hand from Vision’s grasp to place it on the back of the couch. “I moved into this town with no husband or wife, no family, nothing but a pile of letters and a new deed to a new house that happened to be the smallest in the neighborhood. My first week here I told one man in front of the entire night watch that I thought the joke he made about his wife was distasteful, and then the week after I tripped and spilled wine all over his wife. Agnes brought because she thought I’d be a form of entertainment and we somehow ended up becoming friends over a flask that she hid in a pocket sewed into the inside of her skirt.” You offered a look to Wanda again while you mentioned that Agnes never thought your “for the children” jokes were all that funny, though. “I’ve dealt with the comments and the rumors and the ‘what’s wrong with them, they don’t have no kids!’ People are weird and they’re mean and they’re fun and they suck. You want human, dude? You got it. If I was still bothered by comments that are nothing but a bummer, I think I’d be trying a little bit more than wearing clothes that I enjoy over the clothes that are expected of me, telling Dotty she needs to stop being awful before she gets frown lines, or, you know, pining over two people—a married couple nonetheless—until I somehow seduced them with my staring at them from around corners and just generally horrible, awful attempts at eye contact.”
The married couple in question chortled at that.
You used your hand on the back of the couch to hoist yourself up on your knees so you towered over Vision just slightly.
“Here’s the thing, sunshine,” you continued, “I’m not in your boat on this one, you dorks, you’re in mine. I was here first and I don’t give a fuck.”
Wanda gave a sudden laugh. “What language.”
“Has he not told you about the time I said ‘Fuck you’ to a plastic bird in my garden?” you asked. “Multiple times? His name is Bernard and he’s plotting to kill me, I swear.”
Wanda’s troubled expression was split by a wobbly smile.
You threw up your arms in the dramatic fashion that you knew the two people in front of you loved and hollered—then quickly quieted back down to not disturb Billy and Tommy in the other room—“All this for my rambling putz ass to say, who cares about what’s outside this house! You two, and your kids, and I are the only people that matter here. Here being the house, Westview, whatever! Everyone else? Nonexistent.
“Also, just to clarify,” you paused to wave your arms around, gesturing at the entire house, “Love it here. Love this shit.”
You suddenly caught Vision’s slacked jaw in your hand and gave him a peck on the cheek. “This face? Love it.” You moved to peck a spot of silver on his skull. “Love this too.” You pecked the gem on his forehead and swore it glowed brighter in response. “Love this.” You pecked one of his ear plates. “Love these goofy things.” You pecked the tip of his nose. “Love this and the fact that you have it even though you don’t technically even need to breathe. Oh, speaking of which!”
You lifted one of his hands with one of your own and tapped on his red fingernails with your other. You caught a glimpse of his face now that yours wasn’t directly in front of it and noticed him trying to hold back a giddy smile—and failing—while he watched you from underneath red lashes; your whole body would have tried to twist itself in knots under that look if you weren’t too busy swearing to kiss those eyelids and lashes too, at another time. Instead, you pecked each fingertip of the hand you were holding. “Love these ‘useless to my design’ things too. You know what, just speaking of hands—” You dropped Vision’s hand, which made itself to your waist as you went to grab Wanda’s; you were vaguely aware that you were practically leaning into their laps at that point but that could be dealt with when you weren’t trying to make a point.
When you went to touch her, she let you hold her wrist but quickly squeezed her hand into firsts before you could hold it like you had with Vision’s. She was looking away.
You pressed a kiss to her whitening knuckles. “Wanda.”
She looked at you, her perfect face distorted by a deep sadness that almost shattered your heart on the spot. She tightened her first further. The deep emotion appeared to make her slip back into her natural Sokovian accent when she spoke again. “You don’t know the pain it’s caused.”
“I’ve done my fair share,” you affirmed even though you weren’t quite sure why. Then you kissed her knuckles again. “And maybe I don’t, but I know what good it’s caused, that you have.”
Her face twisted into an ugly grimace. She asked hoarsely, “Like what?”
“The first time I saw your face, I wanted to go to space, grab the moon, shrink it down—so it looked like one of those cool little lava rocks, you know? But prettier—and get it put on a ring,” you offered, then kissed the back of her hand and whispered, “and that’s after I found out you were married to a very attractive man too…”
Vision snorted. Wanda cracked the smallest of smiles.
You whispered lower, “And I may or may not have even been interested in marriage before that…”
That time Wanda rolled her eyes; you smiled and grabbed her other clenched hand to share the attention with. You continued, “You’re also so nice, like so nice. You are so kind and care about what people think so much, it’s almost buggy—and bordering on self-destructive but that’s not what we’re talking about— And I sort of get it now, you know, but wow, making your magic show worse for the sake of people’s sanity? Wouldn’t even be on my radar.”
Another little smile.
“I’d be like, ‘Who wants to see me turn this entire table into a rosebush! Dotty’s rosebush specifically; Dotty, I stole your rosebush.’ I actually did steal a rose from her bush that day.”
Wanda blinked and you noticed the lines of her expression weren’t as deeply etched into her face anymore.
“That was Dotty’s?”
You grinned and nodded, then kissed both of her hands. “Also, I love your hair and the way it perfectly frames your perfect face, and I love your little nose scrunches, and I love your eyelashes and the way you look at me from under them sometimes, and I’d kiss all those things but I’m not going to because I gotta get these stubborn, always-working, never-wanna-take-a-break, always-somehow-perfect-nails-having hands to relax before they hurt themselves even though it’s very clearly hard enough to make who woman who owns them do the same. Oh, I did I mention that smile—hoo, Wanda, that foxy smile…”
Wanda was blushing now and bringing up her smile made it happen again, just slightly. You took advantage of the moment anyway and flung yourself back onto the couch with a hand over your heart. “Be still, my pounding heart!”
Vision, who was watching by your and Wanda’s sides, laughed a bit. Wanda herself rolled her eyes again; the smile didn’t disappear afterward.
You sat up again and pointed at Vision, now that he’d brought attention to himself again. “And I don’t know whether you heard any of the stuff this guy said! You made him exist? You made him human? What? You two also do this thing where you just look at each other and have a whole conversation, I don’t know if you guys know you do that or not. You do, though, and I don’t know if either or both of you are psychic but if you are and still love me? With my unhinged brain? Migraines and all? I wouldn’t understand, even if you explained it to me.”
Vision offered, “Neither of us is psychic but anyway, please continue.”
“Have anything to add?”
“You’re doing wonderfully.”
“Thank you.” You looked back and Wanda, noting that her face had almost completely softened now, as she was too busy being flustered to be sad at this point. You quickly scooped her hands before they could curl into fists again placed kissed on each of the crescent moon-shaped marks now dug into their palms. “Your magic rocked your babies to sleep. Your magic cleaned up all their and put it all in one nice, neat place. You floated me around the house with your magic and even protected me from falling when I was wriggling around up there; bet that was fun for both of you to watch. Vision said earlier that that was your job, to protect me, and while I don’t fully agree because I consider it the other way around, is that not what you did?”
“I thought it was cute,” Wanda replied softly to the second to last sentence you said. She watched as you gave her hands a few more pecks.
“So, you agree then,” you said, “that your magic protected me and also made me cuter?”
She laughed and the sound made your heart soared, performing an aerial performance in your chest. She tried to wriggle her hands free from you but then you scowled and tucked them protectively under your chin.
“Gotta say it. Gotta say your magic made me cute.”
“I’m not saying that.”
You shrugged and got comfy, laying your head in her lap with her hands still hidden. “Have to. Otherwise, no hands for you. Oh, did I not mention how good you are to your kids yet? You’re so good—”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Wanda forfeited through a wet laugh. Hearing said laugh, your head shot up in concern, but the woman was smiling as she snagged your hands back; what she chose to do with them next was grab your face and place a kiss directly on your mouth.
It was quick and soft and sweet and absolutely none of that prevented the fireworks that went off in your skull and your chest and your stomach and your veins that made tingles shoot all the way down to your toes. She pulled away as quickly as she had moved in and you blinked; your brain was still short-circuiting, like a robot—like a Vision with his gears all gummed up, and your dazed brain thought that was a very funny connection, so it repeated the joke verbally.
Luckily, Vision was close enough to the level of dork that you were and he laughed at it with you.
It took a deep breath and a head shake to de-gum your brain—if only Wanda could magic that—but after the excitement wore off, you felt sleepiness start creeping in and decided to make your final push. You curled a hand around both of your partners’ necks and brought their faces closer to nuzzle your noses together; they responded by each of them wrapping an arm around your waist and returning the affectionate action.
“So, in conclusion,” you stated, which caused Vision to laugh lightly and Wanda to grin just slightly, “I love both of these perfect faces.” You kissed each of their noses. “And these funky, magical brains.” You kissed Wanda at the base of her hairline, then Vision just below his forehead gem. “And these equally funky, magical hands.” You grabbed the hands not looped around your waist and kissed the back of them. “And both of those babies, and this house, and y—”
You sucked in a sudden breath to stop yourself so hard that you almost choked and you reeled back to the other side of the couch only to drag Vision and Wanda with you. The three of you tumbled into a flustered heap on the couch and over their shoulders, you could see early morning light filtering through the windows. This barely registered, though, as you were too busy focusing on the fact that you almost L-worded them on a silly, tired whim.
Despite the awkwardness of the moment and the unspoken words, no one made a move to remove themselves from the warm, cozy entanglement. One of both Wanda and Vision’s arms was pinned under your back, keeping them solid in place against you while simultaneously and successfully enveloping you in between them; your own arms, which had instinctively wrapped protectively around their shoulders in the tumble, kept them in a similar state. Wanda’s hair fanned found and covered the three of you like a blanket, and you were keenly aware of her breath softly wafting over the exposed skin of your neck from where her head now rested on your shoulder. Vision’s rested slightly lower, on your chest, and you felt a quickened pulse where his gem pressed into your neck, but you couldn’t be sure whether it was yours or his.
You stared past their shoulders and watched as sunlight shone through the curtains and dappled the ceiling. You tried to figure out whether you were stupider for stopping yourself from finishing that sentence or for not saying it at all.
Then you felt a kiss being pressed to your clothed shoulder.
“You’ve said so many things that you’ve loved tonight [Y/N],” Wanda murmured, her hot breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. “What’s two more?”
“I—” you started, then bit your tongue again. There was something about saying that phrase that made you worried; you felt like if you said it now, the happy little world you lived in would begin to crumble, like it would all end far too soon. You sighed softly and said instead, “I don’t know how I would live without you.”
There were a few moments of silence where you watched more sunlight filter in and wished you could take it back because what a way to talk a big game and then not follow through—
Then Vision’s head appeared above you and he pressed a dizziness-inducing kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, he nuzzled your nose with his own as he murmured, “I love you too.”
In almost the same moment, Wanda was mumbling the same phrase against your jawline.
Sleepy and hazy-brained you couldn’t do much else but stare at Vision like a lovesick puppy that struggled to say that L-word, then snuggle back down with both him and Wanda when they relaxed against you again. That seemed to be the last of what needed to be said, though, because everything was cozy and warm and golden brown in your home again and, one by one, the three of you fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.
In the black void of otherwise dreamless sleep, you heard the vaguely familiar First Voice finish chewing something and then go, “Aww…”
Summary: Things are going well between [Y/N] and their new partners but what shenanigans will ensue as the Maximoff baby’s arrival quickly approaches and they’re pulled into the throughs of building a nursery and… child delivery?
Word count: 10,640
Warnings: Cotton candy fluff, chaos, baby. So the usual, plus babies.
Tag list: @madamevirgo @ravennight41 @multifandomgirl16 (It won’t tage you for some reason, I’m sorry ;-; ) @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend
~~~
You huffed and sat back on your heels, slipping a sore finger into your mouth. “Stupid bird.”
The bird in question, a pink flamingo made of plastic and wire, seemed to sneer at you from its position sticking a few inches farther out of the grass than it should be. Because of this, you could still see the main stake sticking out of the bottom of the bird’s standing foot, which, much to your distaste, made the pink plastic-feathered creature look like it was trapped on a piece of wood impaled in its foot rather than lounging on one foot in the lush green grass of your yard.
You had spent a good portion of today working on your yard and garden and waiting for a member of the household across the street to step outside and beckon you over. Dressed in overalls stained by grass and dirt, a brightly colored T-shirt, a sun hat, and working shoes, you forced yourself to keep busy by planting new flora and putting down new garden fences and decor while Vision and Wanda were tucked away indoors, preparing for a baby. You were the only one so far to know about the Maximoff bun in the oven outside of the parents and although it seemed like just last week that Wanda had gotten pregnant, the baby had finally big enough that the couple had to involve a doctor to make sure all was going well.
It also felt like not long ago that the couple had asked you out for the first time. Both of them. At the same time. It was news to you that they had felt even remotely felt the same way about you as you had about them but the rest of that conversation had gone swimmingly with you being too nervous and dumbstruck to do much more than blubber questions. The first date and then the second went a similar way, with you not being completely sure that you were on a three-person date or even awake. Luckily, your new partners were just as unnerved as you were and the three of you agreed to simply play it by ear and communicate a lot.
Some time and a few sporadic dates later and things were going smoothly. Almost every bit of free time was spent at either their place or yours; if it wasn’t free time, you were giving Vision rides to work and leaving cute messages in the files you left at his desk—you always hoped they were cute, anyway, and not annoying, only to be reassured when you got a smiley back or your favorite treat from the breakroom left with the file when it was returned—or trying to help Wanda clean or cook or take a break despite her stubborn fussing against it. Vision was the first to give you a pet name, Wanda was the first to hold you in place when you attempted to pull away from a normally quick handhold or hug, and you were the first to press kisses to both their cheeks after walking them home from dinner. Wanda fell asleep on your couch first, you on theirs second, and Vision went ahead and turned cheek pecks into lip kisses. You weren’t quite ready to initiate them yourself yet but you hadn’t been complaining when Vision caught you on your porch steps and kissed you on the mouth; the rain that had just started had either been just a bonus or his initial inspiration.
As nice as everything has been, though, you were still worried about overstepping boundaries with the married couple so when Vision invited you over to be a part of the doctor visit, you politely declined. Instead, after the doctor left, you were to head over and bring your tools to help set up the nursery; it was also your joint job with Vision, who was now a baby book reading master but also increasingly bugged out about Wanda and the baby’s health, to try and convince said woman to relax for once in her life—a task difficult enough to be on the list of Hercules’ Twelve Labors, you were convinced at this point.
For now, though, you were sitting with your feet beginning to cramp and your knees getting damp and most likely more grass-stained, glaring at the devil in pink whose foot-stake had left your finger with a prick from a splinter and whose one visible dark eye stared at you with sadistic mirth.
“Oh, you wanna go, Bernard?” you scoffed at the bird-shaped plastic, dropping your hand from your mouth and pushing yourself up into a squat. “I’ll call you out. Let’s go!” You raised your hands in a fighting stance and bounced on the balls of your feet as you prepared to strike.
The sound of a chainsaw starting up caught you off guard mid-bounce and you lost your balance but what caught your eye when you twisted around while rubbing your now-bruised tailbone was Vision walking outside his front door with an older gentleman, presumably the doctor. However, you paid very little attention to said other man as you laid in the middle of your yard, twisted into what was probably a partial yoga pose, resting your chin on your arm and making lovey-dovey eyes at the former.
Not that it was surprising at all, Vision looked very nice today. He was wearing dark blue pants and a similarly colored sweater over a collared shirt and tie, with a honey-brown jacket topping everything off; you couldn’t imagine wearing a shirt plus two outerwear items in the heat of the day but you certainly didn’t mind seeing him all dressed up. His hair was somewhere between jaw and shoulder length and wavy as ever and while you weren’t a fan of the popular 70s cut, he not only pulled it off but made it look incredibly attractive. He greeted his next-door neighbor Herb, who started up the chainsaw, then spoke animatedly, as he always did, to the doctor. Talking about keeping the baby news to themselves, no doubt.
Vision watched as the doctor walked off down the sidewalk and as he happened to pass in your direction, Vision’s gaze refocused to settle on you instead. The expression on his face changed from purely friendly to something deeper and you felt the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach as he waved over to you.
“Hello, perfectly platonic neighbor!” he hollered, to which you responded in kind after snorting and then disentangling yourself from your strange position.
No response from Herb about the odd greeting. The cul-de-sac, and in Westview in general, people didn’t seem concerned with your trio’s out-of-place shenanigans as long as it didn’t directly affect them, you had noticed over time. You could have probably walked over and planted a brazen smooch on Vision’s perfect mouth while out in the open, with other neighbors milling about, and no one would bat an eye.
But that’s exactly what we’re not going to do, you thought stubbornly as you stood and brushed yourself off. Not yet, anyway. I want to make sure they’re both comfortable with it first.
Vision seemed to grasp what your plan was because he waited for you as you gave Bernard the flamingo a fight postpone notice and then a light kick before walking across your yard and heading across the street. If you had been more rational, you would have grabbed your tools so you could have just come inside when you reached the Maximoff house but your brain, muddled with the pink mist of freshly requited affections, could only think of getting closer to the man, maybe even holding hands or nuzzling noses.
A sound that was equal parts loud and awful caught both your and Vision’s attention as you reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Looking over, you both saw Herb cutting away with his chainsaw, only now he wasn’t cutting through bushes but the stone wall separating his and Wanda and Vision’s homes. The stone blocks of the wall weren’t super heavy-duty, you supposed, but the sound made you cringe, and the sight was a little jarring. Herb didn’t seem to realize was he was doing despite the lack of hedges in his path.
“Hey Herb,” Vision yelled over the noise, “think you might’ve taken the hedge trimming a little too far there, old chum!” As he spoke, he glanced over at you and, seeing you nearby, instinctively shifted in your direction; you moved to meet him halfway and you each gave the other’s hand a quick affectionate squeeze, though both pairs of eyes were trained on Herb.
Herb, who looked up, smiled, and responded, “So I have! Thanks, buddy.” Despite saying this, he continued to cut through the bordering wall and stare glassily ahead as if none the wiser.
The expression gave you an unnerving sense of familiarity but you couldn’t quite put a name to the vague memory of a person you’d seen wearing it. Acquiring a migraine medication and forcing yourself to not look too hard into every strange thing that happened in this town helped but your headaches appeared to never quite go away. This was proven by the muted throb across one side of your head that came with looking at the bizarre scene.
“Yeah,” Vision said a little quieter, “don’t mention it.”
The action only happened briefly but when you caught him chewing his lower lip, you felt your innards tie themselves in knots and had a particularly hard time tearing your gaze away. Now that you were closer, you also noticed that the blue and brown ensemble he wore perfectly matched his hair and eyes. That hair that you always desperately wanted to brush your fingers through.
Fingers carefully slipping around your hand, like if they held you any tighter your own would break, managed to catch your attention as Vision turned to lead you inside.
“Oh,” you chirped, tugging your hand back to point a thumb over your shoulder, “I forgot my tools. Meet you in a minute?”
Vision seemed persistent to bring you inside, even going so far as to catch both your arms and doing a playful series of shimmies and sways to dance the two of you closer to the front door. Now that you were out of Herb’s frozen line of sight, the two of your found yourselves standing so close together that there wasn’t a single pocket of space between your bodies. When you inhaled, you smell cologne that wasn’t too light or too heavy and a scent that you could only describe as the heat of a warm, sunny day. Thinking as he would only smell sweat and dirt and grass if he did the same, you blushed and made a note to change before you came back over.
Whatever Vision thought about how you smelled or the clothes you wore, he didn’t seem to care enough, if at all. He took advantage of being out of sight to move his hands from your hours to your waist—a much more convincing position indeed—and nuzzled his nose to your hairline, now exposed as your hat rested farther back on your head.
“You know very well that you can use ours,” he said.
You felt his warm breath on your forehead. If you weren’t standing up and didn’t have the nagging feeling that you were getting dirt on his nice sweater, you would have been perfectly comfortable simply hugging him and dozing off in the cozy embrace right there.
Vision continued in a lilting voice and with an added shimmy that brought the two of you directly to the front door. “They’d love to see you, you know.”
They? Your brows furrowed a bit, then rolled your eyes. Oh, Wanda plus baby.
Still, you steeled your resolve and leaned away from him. He looked at you like he was a puppy that had been kicked, to which you responded with a faux scowl. “Mr. Vision Maximoff, I said I was going bring my tools, and [Y/N] is no flake. Besides,” you paused as your scowl melted into a smile, “I don’t want to get dirt and grime all over the new room. It’ll only take a minute; you act like we can’t see each other through our living room windows if we wanted to.”
Making his last attempt, Vision leaned into your arms, which were now around his own, and pressed his cheek against your temple. Still pouting, he muttered, “It only took Wanda and I going around a few times before we moved in together.”
The idea of you living under the same roof as your couple and their new baby made you giddy as much as it made you feel like you wanted to throw yourself into a lit fire pit to save yourself from embarrassment.
“Ah, yes, a spectacle to behold,” you said as you leaned away again, “A new baby and a new roommate!” You saw Vision open his mouth to speak, no doubt to respond with a quip, and quickly continued, disentangling yourself from him as you did, “Gotta skitty, I’ll be back momentarily!”
“Well,” Vision replied, dragging out the last consonant as if you were going to change your mind if he did so long enough; when you didn’t, he huffed a bit. “Alright then. Hurry back!”
You gave him a smile and two-fingered salute then bounded down the steps and back across the street. You only stopped once on the quick trip back home and that was to give Bernard another swift kick, which somehow lodged the bird the rest of the way into the ground, and a “Fuck you, Bernard!” You heard sputtering laughter from across the street that made you grin as you marched inside to change and grab your toolkit.
The tools were the easy part; they had been sitting out on the table in your dining area since last night when you’d originally suggested the idea so you were sure to not forget them. It took a bit longer to struggle your way out of your clothes, especially while simultaneously trotting to the bathroom to wash your hands and splash water on your face. It took longer still to jog back to your bedroom without slamming yourself into an end table or plant along the way and then also go through every piece of clothes you owned; when bright colors and eccentric outfits came into style, you were, for once, ahead of the fashion game with your regular closet, and your wardrobe only continued to grow as the rest of the country’s interest in the style did. You were particularly interested in peacock fashion and it showed in your array of ruffled, brightly colored, and loudly patterned shirts and blouses.
Of these blouses, you threw on one in a burnt orange and yellow paisley pattern, choosing one without ruffles in fear of ripping them while working. You paired the shirt with matching yellow walk-shorts that ended just above your knees and a pair of honey-brown clog sandals whose color made you think of Vision’s outfit. Thinking about this further, you decided to accent your ensemble with a touch of blue, wrapping your hair that was still damp with sweat back with a satin scarf that was a vibrant blue and some handmade jewelry pieces in the same color to match. Finally, you added a woven belt and, after looking in the mirror for a moment, decided to tie your blouse off an inch above the waist of your shorts instead of tucking it in before booking it back across the street.
Standing at the door of your couple’s house, you took a final glance at yourself in the reflection of one of their windows before knocking. You let yourself in after Wanda invited you with a holler through the door and you were greeted with the interesting sight of Wanda, in all her stunning, colorful, mother-to-be glory standing by the long dark-wood dining table; Vision, half-hidden behind her belly that seemed significantly larger than the last time you saw her, was taking an awkward knee while holding up a variety of fruits.
“I’m never not uniquely surprised when I walk into this house,” you said mostly to yourself and you made your way over. Reaching Wanda, you sat your bag of tools on the floor by her feet and gave her a gentle hug. “Hey, sunshine, you’re looking foxy.”
You certainly had gotten a lot more comfortable with them recently.
Wanda visibly blushed, giving you one of her signature fake irritated looks—a tilted head with tight-knit brows and tight lips that broke into a smile less than a second later—and lightly swatted your arm before carefully returning the hug. “Hey sunshine yourself. Look at you, you’re glowing! And those threads, you’re a regular Casanova.”
She made a point of eyeing your partially exposed midriff and you almost blushed—but not quite.
“Glowing,” you repeated, playfully patting your face, “I’m not even the pregnant one! Thank you, though. Some of the colors were inspired.” You took your turn eyeing her, particularly the bright red of her striped dress that was a common color in her palette, then you caught Vision’s bright blue gaze as he stood and placed a couple of fruits back in their rightful place in the basket on the table. You moved to Wanda’s other side to help him. “Why the fruit?”
“Oh, well, the doctor said it helps the mothers keep track of the baby’s progress.” Vision explained. He added another fruit to the basket’s tower, although he was giving the last one in his hand an odd look.
“What he actually said was,” Wanda added, grasping your shoulder and tugging you over two put an arm around your waist and give you mildly strained look, “it helps make things ‘simple’ for us ‘little ladies.’”
You recognized the glint in her eye and nodded understandingly. “Well that’s mildly condescending, must’ve been just groovy.”
“Out of sight,” Wanda agreed in the same tone. She then looked in Vision’s direction with raised brows; you followed her gaze and saw the man toying with the large green fruit in his hand. “Hey, honey? What’cha doin’?”
Vision met both of your equally puzzled gazes with barely contained glee. Voice tight from holding back a giggle, he raised the fruit and pointed at it. “I can’t wait… to be… a proud… papa-ya.”
Wanda looked amused at the future father’s pun and Vision grinned, clearly happy with the reaction. You actually laughed before quickly throwing up a hand to cover the titter.
“Well, that just proves it,” you said after composing yourself even though your company seemed perfectly pleased with your reaction to the joke, “you’re going to be a wonderful one. Look at you, turning into a proper one already.”
Vision went from smiling to flusteredly chewing at his lip quite quickly; he would always get easily flustered but never enough to blush. Instead, he’d twist his head a certain way and rub his neck and shoulder, maybe even avoid eye contact if he was embarrassed enough. He’d always tug his bottom lip between his teeth too, something you couldn’t help finding just a touch more endearing than the other mannerisms; at least it gave you a much more rational reason to stare at his lips for longer than generally accepted.
“You really think so?” he asked.
You scoffed as you moved to pick up your tools again. “Of course, you and Wanda will make absolutely stellar parents. The two of you are more prepared now than I’ve seen some people after they’ve already had the kids. Now,” you paused as you stood up straight and looked at your couple with a cheerful smile, “shall we head to the nursery?”
You were partially convinced that you had been invited solely to help Vision wrangle his wife. You certainly hadn’t been invited to help decorate; even pregnant, Wanda made faster work of your tools than you did. You were huffing while maneuvering a rocking chair in the room and by the time you got it settled in the corner, Wanda had already pieced together the changing stand that was to sit next to it. You turned to grab a tool to open the cans of paint only to turn back around and see all of them opened and Wanda with a brush in hand, painting away. You managed to get the crib up before she could get her hands on it but when you looked around for the yellow mattress and bumper cushions, you looked up to find Wanda already putting on the finishing touches.
Now, you were kneeling on the ground by the crib and painting a delicately rendered stork while Vision was getting to his feet after reading all the reasons Wanda should be resting instead of doing what she was doing, which was pulling a mobile of colorful plastic butterflies out of a box and shifting ever so closer to a stool so she could hang it.
“Darling,” Vision tried, shifting ever so closer to her, “you should probably sit down.”
“You really should,” you offered your help, almost half-heartedly because you already knew the outcome before she said it.
“Don’t be silly,” Wanda assured him, “all I feel is excitement, happiness, and— huhnf! Oh!”
You were on your feet and spun around to give her a wide-eyed stare before her gasp even finished, but instead of pain or worry, Wanda’s face was lit up with wonder as the hand not grasping a plate fluttered around her stomach. Vision also moved quickly, to step forward and pressed his hand on her stomach.
He breathed, “Kicking already?” and they shared an excited stare.
You stared awkwardly from the side with a paintbrush in hand, feeling more out of place you’ve ever had in your life.
Until Wanda, without missing a single beat, turned her head in your direction and grinned. “[Y/N], you have to feel this!” Then she spoke to Vision, “Oh, it’s such a strange sensation, it’s kinda fluttery!”
She was breathtaking. Then her nose scrunched up and she giggled in a way that could also be described as fluttery, and you were wondering in which states polygamy was legal and where was the best jeweler to get a ring.
Still, you were trying to refrain from overstepping boundaries.
“Oh, I don’t know…” you mumbled, shifting your weight from foot to foot and glancing around the room. You noticed the mobile she had been retrieving the last time you’d looked at her was already hung up above the crib; of course, it was.
Wanda scoffed and made a gesture at Vision, then he was walking over and coaxing you to her side with an encouraging nuzzle to your temple.
“I just don’t want—” you started.
“To overstep, we know,” Wanda finished, the giddy look on her face replaced with a scowl. “Trust me, this is probably the one and only time I’ll ask for someone to feel my stomach while everyone else in the town just does it willy-nilly and besides, you are a part of— Oh!”
Her gasp and glance over your shoulder, combined with the sound of movement behind you was enough to make you turn your head, only for Vision to catch your attention in the opposite direction.
“Another kick!” he exclaimed, just a little too loud. You thought you caught his gaze flitting over in the same direction as Wanda’s but then he was grasping your wrist and placing your hand against Wanda’s stomach. At the same time, his arm that was hovering politely around your back pressed against the naked small of your back as he pulled you closer into the little triangle of space you, Wanda, and he made; the sudden heat there made your blood boil in the best way and when his hand accidentally caught on the hem of your shorts and dipped a little lower over the fabric, you choked while sucking in a breath.
Vision’s hands flew up to the sky and he scrambled away, apologizing profusely. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his hands fluttering around, could imagine his eyes doing the same, and you were vaguely aware of Wanda moving at your other side, the fabric of her sleeve brushing against yours as she waved her arm. You also heard a sound that you chalked up to being a breeze coming from the open window and rustling the drawn curtains. You, usually the final piece of the chaotic puzzle, were instead staring down and softly gasping as the sudden tap against your palm.
“I felt it,” you whispered and the chaos that was happening around you seemed to still in the same moment as Wanda and Vision settled back around you to feel themselves. You repeated the phrase, brushing your thumb across the patch of clothed skin, and the baby responded with another kick a moment later. You couldn’t help looking up at Wanda a face frozen in almost childish wonder, and state the obvious, “You’re gonna have a baby.”
Wanda nodded at you with shining eyes and a wet smile. She wrapped her free arm around her midsection and looked back down on her belly. The expression on her face radiated an intense, loving tenderness and you felt a billion non-plastic butterflies make a comfortable home in your chest.
You followed her gaze and felt your face break into a grin so wide that your cheeks started to hurt almost immediately. Your hand, along with Wanda’s own and Vision’s, created a loose but ever so protective triangular shield over the place where you had felt your first baby kick, promising to move the universe for them should it ever be required. Despite the overlapping mess of fingers, you noticed how Vision’s hand was the perfect size to envelop your own and that even with a ring on one of them, Wanda’s fingers fit perfectly in the spaces between yours.
The nervousness and insecurities that seemed to bounce around your head whenever you observed your couple, in their perfect world with their perfect dynamics, melted away in the comfortable warmth that came from your trio’s cozy huddle. This wasn’t a story about you or them separately but the three of you together and it was a wonderful one in the making.
Then, “Oh.”
Wanda looked up at her husband and echoed, “Oh.”
You looked up second, adding your own questioning “Oh?” before your gaze settled on the butterfly lightly perched on the tip of Vision’s nose. “Oh!” Watching the monarch’s delicate wings fluttering, you were surprised he hadn’t already sneezed.
“Hello, little fella,” Vision softly said. He was the first to separate your group, stepping away and leaning down a bit for your and Wanda’s better viewing. His smile was blinding for the brief moment you caught it, before tilting your head away to snicker at the way his eyes were crossing to view his insect passenger.
Wanda gently coaxed the butterfly onto her fingertip and walked over to the window to release it. That’s when you noticed a group of the bug type coalesced around the same area; the sudden visit from Mother Nature must have been what she had seen earlier.
“Oh, my,” you said, “that’s something you don’t see every day.”
The smile on Wanda’s face tightened for just a moment as her gaze jumped around the baby room, then relaxed as she maneuvered the various colorful butterflies outside. “Bringing good vibes, hopefully. They must have been enticed by the mobile; why, they even tried to free their plastic friends!”
You looked towards the crib curiously and saw that the mobile hanging above it was only a series of transparent hanging strings. Walking over, you found the butterflies that had once been attached to it scattered around the mattress. You picked a couple of them up and carefully pinched the thin material between your fingers. “Hm, strong butterflies.”
“Clearly,” Vision agreed. He walked over to the rocking chair he had been sitting and reading baby books earlier and picked up his most recent read.
Meanwhile, you began gathering up the scattered butterflies, then climbed up the nearby stool to retrieve the rest of the mobile. “You wouldn’t happen to have a good adhesive laying around, would you? I can have this fixed up and rehung lickity-split.”
“Not laying around but I’m sure there’s one in the cabinet under the sink.” Vision seemed to find the page he was looking for. He glanced over the words, tensed up immediately after, and paced over to Wanda’s side as she shut the window. “If that was first kick, that puts you at about six months! Why I can’t keep up!”
Has it been that long already? You silently wondered as you made your way over to the exit, careful not to crush any of the delicate pieces you were holding. While Vision was thinking in terms of babies, you were surprised that you had already been dating him and his wife for almost half of a year.
In a signature dad-to-be fashion, Vision waggled his head down to give Wanda and the baby a kiss. Then he said in an equally identifiable dad’s voice, “Please don’t misinterpret. I can’t wait you meet you, little Billy!”
You leaned against the doorframe as you offered Wanda an amused look; you had been previously graced with the conversation of baby names and Billy wasn’t exactly on her roster.
“Billy?” she questioned, to which Vision gave a smile and an affirming noise. Wanda continued, “Well I was thinking Tommy. Just a nice, classic American name.”
Vision gave an exaggerated, head tilting nod that suggested a mild disagreement. Then the higher-pitched tone he took when he replied confirmed it. “Hm, Tommy! Hm, mm… then there’s Billy, isn’t there? Named after William Shakespeare, all the world’s a stage, all the men and women many players!”
Wanda went to speak but you beat her to it. “You’re sure it’s a boy, then?”
Your partner seemed mildly embarrassed as she turned her attention to you. “Strong intuition?”
You offered casually, not thinking about your lack of say in the matter, “What about Victor? Vin? Little Vinny’s certainly a cute nickname.” Almost immediately after you finished, it was your turn to be the embarrassed one. You stumbled over your words a bit as you started to apologize, only to falter when you saw both Vision and Wanda’s gleeful stares.
“Well, those are wonderful names too,” Wanda assured you, clearly pleased you had chimed in, “but I’m not hoping for quadruplets. I guess we’ll need the next best thing— A girl.”
Your shoulders relaxed from their hunched places that you hadn’t noticed they took. You chuckled and strolled out the door, throwing a couple more ideas over your shoulder, “Vivian! Virginia! Nadia!”
Vision’s voice floated after you as you walked to the kitchen. “Ooh, Vivian’s quite good…”
When you returned to the bedroom with good-as-new mobile in hand, only final touches needed to be added to the nursery, and Wanda and Vision’s excitement over the baby’s coming was suddenly amped up to eleven. The two were pacing around and frantically listing off the all things that they had left to do or buy. It was a very drastic change from the casual playfulness that you had experienced between them earlier, as the new parents were keeping themselves—and you—busy with a thousand new tasks. Eventually, Vision had a list about as long as he was tall of every bottle, diaper, blanky, binky, children’s book, and stuffed animal that they had yet to get.
Deciding you were now the more sane member of the group, you decided to take the list and go shopping for them; if you didn’t, Vision may have been swept up in the baby section of a clothing store and never return. That’s how you ended up where you were now, at the front of an ever-growing line of department store customers, waiting anxiously as the workers tried to get the lights back on and the cash register back in working order.
You rapped your fingernails on the countertop—not intentionally, just out of worry about how your parents-to-be were managing at home—and glanced from your bloated shopping cart to the cashier, who was talking quietly with a manager then back several times. You were antsy about being stuck in a store when you were much useful elsewhere and being concerned about whether you were making the cashier uncomfortable with your mannerisms, for they were probably three times as unsettled as you were, wasn’t doing anything but adding on to the stress.
Finally, the cashier turned back to you and the rest of the shoppers and announced, “Good news, everybody! The register is still down but it’s a quick switch to manual; we’ll have each and every one of you checked out and on your ways home soon!”
A cheer erupted around you but you were too frazzled to join in.
“Unfortunately,” the cashier continued as the noise died down, “we’re not the only store experiencing this. It’s the whole town.”
While the crowd’s disappointed “Aww” only appeared mildly disgruntled, you went rigid and your mind began racing, all thoughts revolving around a particular household.
One random thought of wondering What if Wanda went into labor right now? had the hair on your arms sticking straight up.
You slammed your hand down on the counter, spooking both the cashier and yourself.
“Ma’am,” you started, then paused to quickly apologize for your rudeness before continuing, “I need you to check me out as fast as humanly possible; I think my—” Wife seemed way out of line but girlfriend felt too out of place. “—pah-art-ner’s having a baby.”
You were struggling to your car with a small mountain of baby items in the arms in a matter of minutes, mentally kicking yourself for being bad at talking the entire way there. You threw your bags in the back, scrambled into the driver’s seat, and were getting ready to pull away from the curb when a ringing from your mobile phone sounded.
“Goddammit,” you huffed. One hand was pulling up an antenna and pressing the technological brick to your ear while the other gripped your steering wheel so hard that your knuckles turned three skin tones lighter. “Yeah, hello?”
“[Y/N]?” Agnes’s voice was a welcome surprise but her worried tone wasn’t.
“No, it’s your husband, I’m on my way home now, dear,” you snarked, then mentally kicked yourself again. “Sorry, that was rude, I’m in a rush. What’s crackin’? Besides the town going into blackout, that is.”
“The neighborhood’s flooded,” Agnes said simply.
You blanched. “I’m sorry?”
“The cul-de-sac? Something’s happened and all the pipes have burst. Mine, Herb’s, Dotty’s, everyone’s!”
How on earth the day’s mood has changed so quickly, you had no idea. What you did know is that you desperately had to get back to Wanda’s side, your house be damned.
“Thanks, ‘Nes, good to know,” you hissed through clenched teeth. You rested your phone between your ear and shoulder as you put both hands on the wheel and started driving.
“Do you want me to do anything?” Agnes asked; her voice sounded as frazzled as you and the rest of Westview looked. “Go over to your place, grab anything important?”
You huffed out a sigh as your car flew around a corner. “Agnes, you know I adore you, but I really, really have to go.”
“[Y/N]—”
You hung up and tossed the shoe-sized device in the passenger’s seat.
Vision met you on the curb as you were parking your car and he had the doctor from earlier that day in tow, now dressed in vacationing attire and very seeming very underprepared. Within a few words and as if you had accidentally wished it into existence back at the department store, you were informed that Wanda was in fact about to have little Billy or Tommy or who-have-you. Of course, this messy day would come to a peak in such a way.
The taller man was half-escorting, half-hauling both you and the doctor to the door, and the bags in the backseat of your car were completely forgotten as concern chewed away at your insides. Loud, strained sounds coming from inside only added onto it.
As the three of you reached the front door, Vision flung it open and pressed the doctor inside. Then he grabbed your wrist and began tugging you in after himself.
You couldn’t help your feet freezing to the concrete. “Vis, are you sure?”
The distress on his face softened just slightly and he pressed the back of your hand to his lips. “Of course we are.” Then he wrapped an arm around you and properly, albeit quickly, brought you into his and Wanda’s home—
—where Wanda was laying on the floor, panting and shimmering with sweat and holding a baby wrapped in a blue and white dishtowel while Geraldine perched awkwardly over her.
You and Vision shared a bug-eyed look before Vision’s turned into one of sadness. You wanted so badly to hug him and tell him it was alright but he was already releasing you and slowly walking over; you trailed a couple of steps after him.
“Oh no,” he murmured, “I missed it?” However, when he took a look at Wanda’s softly smiling face and their happily cooing baby, whatever brief grief he was experiencing was replaced by a proud smile and new fatherly glow.
“Hey, doc,” Geraldine spoke suddenly, “why don’t you help me out in the kitchen there?” She nodded in your direction as well.
You wondered why she was there, in Wanda’s home or Westview, at all. The idea made your stomach flip but you just couldn’t place why.
The only response the doctor gave was blubbering about speeding as she took his arm and led him away. You began to follow when Vision stopped you with a gentle tug on your arm.
“No, [Y/N],” he said, “it’s alright. Stay and come see.”
You didn’t even think as you smiled and took his hand. You took a glance towards the kitchen to make sure the other company was occupied, then kissed the back of his hand as he had done only a moment earlier. Squeezing it and letting it drop, you responded, “Go say hello to your baby. I’ll always be here.”
Given the current situation, Vision wasn’t up for arguing much. He gave you a quick peck on the temple before gingerly making his way over to where Wanda rested happily on the living room floor.
You made your way to the kitchen, where you slumped against the kitchen counter as exhaustion overtook you. You were close enough to both parties to hear Geraldine’s blatant attempts at distracting the doctor to your left and Vision and Wanda’s cozy rumblings to your right, but too out of sorts to make out anything tangible. You didn’t realize until now how badly your feet ached from the combination of gardening, decorating, and running around and how your outfit had lost its cute playfulness in place of wrinkles and feeling slightly damp from sweat. You were sure you were looking more worse for wear than Wanda, despite Wanda having had a baby, but when you thought about it for more than a second or two, you felt like you wouldn’t trade the day for any other in the world.
Especially when thinking about that cutie patootie, you thought with a tired smile. He’s gonna have such good parents. Such a good life.
Suddenly, your train of thought was stopped by the sound of Wanda yelling and your whole body jerked in her direction, energetic as ever.
Wanda was going into labor a second time, you could see easily see. Something somehow more surprising was going on in the living area, though, and that something was Vision’s skin. While he still wore his regular clothes, that was the only normal thing about him. Instead of light skin, his flesh was a deep red and you weren’t even sure it could be called skin; it looked more… mechanical than that, with symmetrical lines etched into some places and silver plating covering others. Instead of a full head of wavy hair, he had none, and his ears and parts of his bald skull were also covered in silver. Silver came to a peak at the top of his forehead and at the end of it was a golden gem.
Vision was holding his baby and yelling along with Wanda as she began pushing a second time. He happened to glance up and catch your bewildered eye and then he started yelling because of you.
You stood frozen in place, not sure what to do until you heard a commotion behind you.
“Well, what’s going on now?” Geraldine started.
Your brain kicked back into full gear and thinking quickly and somewhat stupidly, you yelled and pointed in the opposite direction, “Jeepers creepers, is that a stork?” You couldn’t imagine why your poor attempt at a distraction worked but you considered it a success as Geraldine and the still-disoriented doctor’s attention settled elsewhere. Not missing a beat, you grabbed another cloth from the kitchen and raced to Wanda and Vision’s aid, skidding to a halt on your knees.
“[Y/N],” Vision said, though nothing else followed. He stared at you in pure shock, mouth flapping and the bright blue irises of his eyes twisting and shifting like a camera lens as he looked at you. Still, his body worked despite his befuddled mind as he took the cloth you handed him and offered you a newborn baby to hold instead.
“[Y/N],” Wanda gasped through her current endeavor. When you dragged your head to look at her, she was staring at you with a clenched jaw and equally wide eyes, which were filled with a mixture of surprise, horror, and… relief? Then she was screaming and pushing again, eyes squeezed shut, and her hand flew to your own.
You grabbed it and held on tight, even when her fingernails dug in enough to leave marks for days. While a red and silver-skinned Vision handled the delivery like a champ—a bugged out, stammering, robotic champ who couldn’t figure out whether he should be looking at you, his wife, or the baby he was helping into the world but a champ nonetheless—you switched between offering encouraging words to the tiring new mother and cooing calmly at the newborn swaddled and resting cozily in the crook of your arm. Soon enough, Wanda was slumping back into the pillow behind her head and Vision was sitting back on his haunches with another quiet baby snuggled against his chest; your taut muscles sagged and the exhaustion you hit in the kitchen came rushing back.
You made sure Wanda was lucid enough to take her baby back and carefully transferred from your arms to hers. It was only after he was safely in his mother’s grasp that you were able to fully relax, tossing an arm around Vision’s shoulders and leaning heavily against him while you shook out your other hand, which was red and covered in deep, crescent moon-shaped marks.
“So,” you puffed, “Billy and Tommy?”
Wanda’s tired face lit up as she nodded her head towards her baby. “Tommy.”
Vision, who was leaning on you as much as you were on him—something in the back of your head noted that the two of you held each other very well and that something sent a little pang of affection straight to your pounding heart—used his turn to nuzzle the forehead of the baby he held and grumble in a half British, half baby-talk accent, “Billy.”
You hummed while stretching a hand down to give Billy a very ginger boop on the nose; he didn’t seem to mind. Then you said, “Vinny and Vivian will just have to be next time.”
Your group shuddered with a mess of tired, soft laughter. Then you began to relax further but as the excitement of childbirth began to wear off, you a new variation of tension settling into your couple. The new parents were sharing increasingly worried looks and if they were communicating telepathically, and it was then that you remembered that the man sitting next to you was for less human than you’d previously made him out to be.
The realization seemed to hit him at almost the same time because his head swung to look at you just as you had turned to observe his new appearance. On his robotic face—was robotic even the word; was he a robot?—was an expression of outright fear but also something that looked like he was mentally being torn in two different directions. He went to speak several times—his mouth and teeth looked the same, perfect and familiar—only to verbally scramble and backtrack, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders since his hands were too occupied to scratch his neck. Finally, he appeared to get himself in order and he started, “[Y/N], I can— we can explain—”
You ran your hand over his scalp and down to rest at the base of his neck; the silver plating felt like metal, while the thick red epidermis was warm and softer to the touch. Not only warm but damp from exertion, and pulsing softly to some form of a heartbeat where you ran a finger over a common pulse point.
While your mental energy was rapidly declining, you still managed to quip at the man, “As much as loved the idea of running my fingers through your hair, I think I prefer this over that awful cut that’s in style right now.”
That left Vision dumbfounded and silent, his mouth flopping open and closed like a fish out of water. On your other side, who had been otherwise quiet and already snoozing as far as you were concerned, broke into a burst of loud laughter that was music to your ears.
You grinned in response but your muscles were too tired to make it reach your eyes. You shifted over slightly to be closer to Wanda now and brushed your thumb over little Tommy’s cheek before resting doing a similar action to his mother’s. Wanda relaxed her head against your palm and the way she looked up at you from under her lashes made you do mental gymnastics about the ethics of blurting out the L-word then and there.
Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last much longer because then Geraldine’s voice floated over from the kitchen, getting louder as she and the doctor made their way back from the wild stork chase you sent them on. You quickly looked to Vision, only to see him looking as human as the day you first met him, and noted the sad little string you got from seeing simple blue irises instead of the intricately shifting blue ones that swirled mechanically as he focused on something. It only lasted a moment, though, before you and your trio were busy readjusting yourselves into what you considered normal poses but in reality, probably made the three of you look much more awkward than you previously had.
You’d just finished settling as Geraldine and her companion walked into the living room and, thinking tiredly and definitely stupidly, you blurted, “Jeepers creepers, another baby!”
“Twenty fingers and twenty toes, you’ve got two healthy baby boys on your hands.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Wanda responded as the man handed Billy back to her. Vision stood watchfully next to her, holding Tommy.
You poked your head up from behind the second crib you were finishing assembling and as the doctor turned to thank Geraldine for her delivery help, you said to the Maximoff couple, “And a second crib all ready to go. If they’re not fans of sleeping separately, let me know and we can exchange the ones you have for one big one.”
Wanda held out her hand to you as you stood and you walked over to hold it only briefly as she thanked you before leaning over and crooning at Billy and Tommy in turn. You were in the company of others, after all, and there had been enough excitement for one day without revealing your polyamorous relationship to a neighbor and a random doctor.
It was weird how different the energy felt standing with them now than it had earlier just that day alone. Things still felt new and strange but you no longer felt like a separate unit from the household you were standing in or the people standing and smiling oh so sweetly at you. Then again, maybe that’s just what being involved in the arrival of an unexpected set of twins and making a superhuman discovery about one of your partners did to all blossoming romantic triads in the seventies.
Speaking of the doctor, as he began to finish up chatting with Geraldine, Vision beckoned you closer, and after getting an okay to do so, he carefully laid the baby he held in your arms. He gave Tommy a nuzzle and a light tap on the nose, then straightened up and headed towards the door.
He said to the other man, “Allow me to walk you out, doctor.”
“Oh, alright,” the doctor responded with an odd quiver in his voice. Said quiver was confirmed to be restlessness, which you had no doubt was attached to some sort of superhuman business Vision had involved him in when picking him up, when he continued, “As long as we actually walk this time?”
You would definitely have to delve into the mystery of Vision’s sometimes inhuman appearance at a later date but at that moment you were remembering how the entire neighborhood’s pipes had burst. The neighborhood of which your house was a part of and an event you were sure you hadn’t been lucky enough to avoid.
“Oh, shi—oot,” you stammered, “I should probably get back to my own pad and save what I can from getting water damage. I haven’t even been home to see how bad everything is.” You provided Tommy with a very important explanation in very serious baby babble terms before placing him in his crib. “I’ll just leave my car on this side of the street and bring the other stuff in sometime later this evening if that’s alright with you, Wanda?”
When you looked at her, she was giving you a confused head tilt. She blinked, then her eyes shot wide open. “Oh, the pipes!” She paused and turned her gaze to the far wall of the living room as if she could see your house through it, then looked back at you with a smile. “Your house should be fine. In fact, I think the entire neighborhood is back intact!”
Something about the way she looked at you assured you that she was right. You wondered whether Vision wasn’t the only one with a unique secret under this roof and if all the strange happenings that had gone on today couldn’t be traced back to Wanda herself.
Not that any of that really mattered in the grand scheme of things.
“I should still go,” you insisted, “You should really rest for a while, and I am a mess for the second time today. Maybe I can pop back over in a little bit?”
Wanda pursed her lips in a subtle doubt before giving in. She nodded and after taking a glance around to make sure the company was occupied, she grasped your hand and leaned in closer. “Come over for dinner tonight. Stay and help us get the babies settled in? We can talk about today.”
“Wanda, you need rest—”
The woman interrupted, a teasing look making her eyes glitter. “Which is why either you or Vision will be doing the cooking! And you know how much I love the man but there’s a reason the only thing he handles in the kitchen is water from the faucet.”
You had to nod in somber agreement at that statement, then sighed and gave Wanda a pout of your own. “Fine. Now, is anyone looking?”
Wanda was smiling triumphantly. She took another quick look around, then shook her head; her silky hair fanned out slightly from its position perfectly framing her head as she did.
You shuffled a little closer and slipped an arm around her waist in an intimate hug. Leaning in, you gave her one quick smooch on the cheek and another on the forehead then mumbled against her skin, “You did amazing.” Another kiss. “And you’re going to be a wonderful mother. Please, though, promise me that you’ll rest, at least for a little bit. The world will not crumble around you if you take one break.”
Wanda, who had immediately leaned into your embrace and giggled as you kissed her, scoffed slightly. She gave you a tight squeeze and murmured back, “I suppose you’re right. Fine, but only because you promised to cook.”
“Well, technically,” you said as you broke away from her, “I only said I’d come over. I can’t wait for Vision to make us burnt water and boiled bacon!”
Wanda stared after you, frozen in a mock gasp. “[Y/N]!”
You grinned and waved before spinning on your heels and trotting over to where Vision was perched, holding the door. “Bye!”
When you got to the door, Vision’s hand played lightly down your back as he followed you outside after the doctor.
“Well, Dr. Nielson,” Vision said, “I hope you’re still able to make your trip.”
The doctor, apparently Dr. Nielson, slowed as he stepped off the porch and onto the sidewalk. He turned towards Vision with a glassy look in his eye that he hadn’t had before but you’ve been seeing more and more often in Westview residents these days. When he talked, his speech became slower as well.
“Ah, yes, about my trip,” he drawled, “I don’t think we’ll get away after all. Small towns, you know. So hard to… escape.”
You frowned, suddenly uneasy. Glancing at Vision, the man just looked confused.
Dr. Nielson’s glassy gaze shifted from Vision to you. He spoke deliberately to you, “Don’t you think, [Y/N]?” Then he blinked, turned, and walked off down the sidewalk.
You weren’t sure exactly why, but you flinched and reeled back. You would have tripped and fallen up the porch if it weren’t for Vision catching you. Then the two of you stood gripping each other and staring as the doctor disappeared around the corner.
You didn’t even realize that your ears had started ringing until the sound began to fade. You started, “Well, that was…”
“Yeah,” Vision said with a slow nod. “Very. Are you alright?”
“Fine, I think.”
“No migraines?”
“No migraines.”
The two of you stood holding each other for a moment longer before you forced your fingers to loosen their death grip on Vision’s jacket. As the two of you relaxed slightly and readjusted yourselves, several questions rushed through your head, like why was that so unnerving and why did the doctor speak directly to you.
How had he known your name?
A particularly sharp pain made your vision swim temporarily but it was gone as soon as it came. Before you think any further on the subject, other voices floated into your range of hearing.
“What is she doing in there?”
“I don’t know.”
You followed the voices with your eyes and found Agnes and Herb talking quietly by the wall Herb had been cutting into earlier; actually, Herb looked like he’d barely moved an inch, still standing in the gap between his wall of shrubs. At least he appeared more lucid, but now he and Agnes were huddled together like they were having a secret meeting. Neither of them noticed you yet.
Vision decided to change that by throwing up a hand and hollering, “Howdy neighbors!”
Agnes spun around so quickly you were wonder if she’d given herself whiplash, but the strained greetings and even more strained expressions that both she and Herb gave were what really piqued your interest.
Well, not so much piqued your interest than their actions gave you a second dose of uneasiness that made your head spin and filled you with a sense of somewhat morbid curiosity.
Then they stuck their heads back together and continued muttering.
“Did you see her go inside?” Agnes questioned.
Herb responded, “She went right in.”
Vision leaned his head closer to yours; he didn’t seem to catch what they were saying. “Do they seem… a little off to you?”
“Just a tad.”
You silently deliberated with each other before casually strolling over.
“Remarkable day we’re having, no?” Vision tried again.
Agnes and Herb looked up again, also trying to look casual but there was something definitely worrisome about their equally strained smiles.
Vision continued, “Did you lose power too?”
You snapped your fingers, joining in. “That’s right! Agnes, you called me about the pipes bursting. I hope nothing got too damaged?”
“Oh, sure did,” Agnes said to Vision, “but Ralph looks better in the dark, so I’m not complaining. And you’re right, I did, [Y/N]! Luckily, everything’s just fine.”
There was an awkward pause and even though you were out in open air, you felt like you were struggling to breathe in a sauna.
Vision said, “Hi, Herb.”
Herb responded, “Heya, buddy.”
More awkward silence.
“Well,” Vision said slowly, lightly clapping his hands together, “I’ll get back to Wanda. [Y/N], you’re heading home?”
“Right,” you affirmed, a little too quickly.
What is going on?
Vision placing his hand on your back brought back some sense of normalcy as he began escorting you to the curb.
“Vision,” Agnes abruptly said halting your exit. You and your partner turned back to her and Herb and she continued after a long-winded pause and adjusting her awkward stance leaning against the low wall, “Is Geraldine inside with Wanda?”
“Yes. Why?”
Herb piped up, “She’s new to town. Brand new.”
Wait, that’s not right. Your brows furrowed and you felt the sting of your own bite as you chewed your bottom lip. You felt pressure in your skull as you tried to recall where you’d previously met the woman, because you knew you had, but trying to do so had a similar feeling to trying to grip water as it rushed through your fingers.
Agnes went on, “There’s no family. No husband.”
You would have scowled, said something in defense of your circumstances of moving to Westview without a family or marriage, but you were too busy trying to clear away the fog that quickly encroaching your headspace. Vision, on the other hand, was able to say something, “Well there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Agnes hummed, gave a half-hearted nod, then steadily met his gaze. “No home.”
Come to think of it, you knew very little about Geraldine. While you were positive that you’d met her before today, you couldn’t for the life of you place what she did for work, when she first appeared in Westview, what house in the cul-de-sac she lived in—
You could list off the names of everyone who lived in your neighborhood. Geraldine wasn’t one of them.
Your brain felt like it could expand and explode from the intense pressure at any moment but the dread pooling in the pit of your stomach from the idea of not being able to retrieve memories bothered you far more. You couldn’t bring yourself to push the thoughts away and instead mentally leaned into the pain. The harder you pushed, the more pressure pushed back, as if you were fighting against an invisible barrier that was barring you from your own memories.
At the same time, you attempted to keep yourself grounded by staying tuned into the conversation at hand. Vision asked Agnes what she meant by Geraldine having no home and Herb kept stumbling over the same beginning of a sentence—She came here because… She came here because… She came here because we’re all…—like he was a record on a broken player that just wouldn’t let him get out what he wanted to say.
Vision tried to urge him on. “She came here because what? What are trying to tell me?”
With Agnes and Herb bickering briefly about whether or not to tell Vision whatever it was they had been speaking about, Vision completely tuned into them, and you fighting to remember things without succumbing to your migraines, you had an underlying feeling of being out of place. You’ve felt out of place before, of course, but this was something different and weird and wrong. Your entire perfect—but not so much, you were gradually learning—little town suddenly seemed like it was out of place in its state, its country, its world, its reality. Out of nowhere, Westview felt like it was trapped in a claustrophobic little bubble that wouldn’t let anyone escape and the longer anyone was here, the warped things would become—
A memory came rushing back of a black and white talent show and a smashed mirror and an arm oozing blood and color and Geraldine was there but she was an eerie Geraldine, out of place and time and reality and asking if you knew who she was or who you were and you didn’t know the answer and then Wanda and Vision appeared and everything was okay again, and now the name Monica throbbed against the base of your neck and the air around you radiated electricity and it was itchy and no one around you was noticing anything and instead of darkness, a weird bright light was tinging the edges of your vision white and—
There was a crash coming from the house and none of the people standing next to you were any the wiser but even though you felt like you were swimming through honey while doing it, you turned just in time to see a portion of a nearby wall explode as something shot out from inside and continued flying until it disappeared into the distance. Then there was a sound similar to a sonic boom that followed and a wave of nausea crashed over you as the electric air rippled and distorted right before your eyes, and then you could see the dome of TV static-looking energy that encapsulated your town and the dome seemed to peak directly above the Maximoff house.
Your ears rang. Your mouth flapped open closed but you couldn’t force a single word out. You looked around and everyone else in your group seemed trapped in a strained conversation that they couldn’t escape from if they wanted to.
You didn’t so much walk as you floated over to the gaping hole in the side of your couple’s house, or at least, that’s what it felt like as the ground grew soft and wobbly under your feet and you swayed as you moved. You reached the hole and peered through it, then waved aimlessly when you saw Wanda staring wide-eyed at you from a couple of demolished rooms away. She said or mouthed something—she’s sorry? Why?—but you couldn’t tell which it was over the thrumming of your own pulse in your ears. You cocked your head, more out of curiosity than confusion, then blinked and stared glassy-eyed as the hole in the house reversed itself.
“Huh,” you said dumbly as the last brick fell back into place. “Cool.”
Then your body felt as if it were slammed back onto very hard, solid ground and that’s because it was. You weren’t sure if you whined or groaned or screamed as you collapsed to the ground, succumbing to your worst migraine yet.
Summary: Halloween is afoot in Westview and it’s a must to partake in the festivities. Unfortunately, things are a little rocky in the Maximoff house with Wanda’s brother Pietro visiting, [Y/N] moving in, and Vision and Wanda’s rough patch continuing. Can Halloween relieve some tension at home or will things continue to crumble?
Word count: 7,760
Warnings: None! Just maybe a possibly poorly made Rocky Horror Picture Show reference because I’ve never actually seen it, lol. Also a slight change in format because I just realized now that Tumblr wasn’t taking my page breaks between scenes; sorry for that in previous episodes.
Living in Westview after having your memories partially restored was a very strange experience and you quickly realized why Vision would “turn people back off” after jogging their memories; things just didn’t quite make sense when you had the combined knowledge of the outside world and the bubbled Westview and it was almost more confusing and uncomfortable to experience it this way. For example, you couldn’t be sure whether it had been days or weeks since you’d regained your memories and Wanda and Vision had decided to have you move in with them, or why all of Westview had changed from an 80s aesthetic to a 90s one. What was especially weird was how people would randomly stop and talk into space as if they were talking to a camera in a TV show, but there was nothing to see when you looked in that direction. With your memories not fully intact even now, it hadn’t done much to help your and Vision’s investigation into what was going on in Westview or outside of it either—before whatever Wanda had done to Westview, you were a bit of a recluse and had suffered dementia in the past, so what memories had been returned was mostly irrelevant—and Wanda, who was still perfectly happy with living in almost ignorant bliss, wasn’t much help. The two of you continued seeking out the strange and trying to put pieces together but it was becoming increasingly difficult and the chaos of making space for you, Wanda’s brother returning, and now Halloween wasn’t helping.
There was also the desire to ignore it all and go back to playing house. Like now, as you were heading back into the house from the backyard—you had been finishing up repairs on Vision’s failed attempt at building the kids a treehouse—when you heard Tommy and Billy chatting. Their voices faded in further as you opened the back door.
“Wrong!” Tommy was saying into space. When you looked, there was still no person, no camera like in a sitcom. “Halloween’s about candy. And scaring people, but mostly candy.”
“Where’s your costume, Tommy?” Billy asked his brother. As you stepped inside, he looked over Tommy’s head at you and smiled.
“This is my costume. I’m the cool twin.”
You put your hands on your hips and made an exaggerated surprised face in Billy’s direction, pretending as if this was the first time you’ve ever heard Tommy tease his brother. Billy’s smile widened slightly before he looked away, acting like you weren’t there except for a glance or two. Tommy didn’t seem to notice your presence quite yet.
“What does that make me?” Billy said.
Tommy hummed and cocked his head to one side; you could almost picture the flashback going on in his head before he looked back at Billy and replied matter-of-factly, “A dorkasaurus rex.”
“Not a real dinosaur,” Billy said with a scowl, then went back to his task of scooping his and Tommy’s lunch into bowls.
“And mean,” you piped up.
Tommy squealed and jumped away from where you were standing behind him. He spun around and almost flung himself into the kitchen counter but jerked away just quickly enough. Then he stumbled back in the opposite direction, resulting in running into your legs. Or, he would have, if you hadn’t caught him by the shoulders and stopped his floundering. He looked up and you with wide eyes.
“Oh, hey, [Y/N],” he said casually, trying to cover up his embarrassment with coolness.
“Heya, kiddo,” you chirped back with a smile. You ran a hand over his hair and leaned down to give him a peck on the forehead. He responded with a grossed-out face and a “Blech!” so you decided to mess up his hair by ruffling it. You grinned as he flailed his way to freedom, then pointed and said, “Don’t be a little shit to your brother.”
Tommy grinned, most likely because of your use of a curse word, and attempted to flatten his hair back in place.
“[Papa/Mama/Nopa]!” Billy, who was much less like his uncle and much more like his parents than Tommy, was perfectly fine with getting a kiss on the cheek after trotting over and throwing himself into your waiting arms, despite still making a face when you did so. He laughed when you hauled him into your arms and cradled him like a baby, something you didn’t get to do nearly enough before they’d aged themselves up, and happily kicked his legs.
Tommy rushed over to be included and you adjusted to holding Billy around the stomach with one arm and picked his brother up with your other. Holding them both with their backs against your chest now, you spun around a few times and the boys laughed and kicked their feet out. You were careful to swing them high enough off the ground that they wouldn’t hit anything and hollered, “My boysss!”
Then a snore came from the living room, reminding you that there was still someone in the house that didn’t wake up at a reasonable hour. You made a cringing face at the twins as you stopped and they covered their giggling mouths while you put them down. They scrambled back over to the kitchen counter to finish getting their food while you paused and looked over at the couch with hands on your hips. “He sure knows how to sleep, huh?”
Pietro Maximoff had shown up on Wanda and Vision’s doorstep the same night you’d regained your powers, the same night that they’d asked you to move in. As soon as you’d seen him in the doorway from your blanket nest on the couch, something about him was off. You were aware that you weren’t supposed to know him yet by Westview rules, so it wasn’t all that strange that he didn’t recognize you from Sokovia—or maybe you just hadn’t been as memorable to him as you had to his sister, which would make sense since he wasn’t the one you were kissing and sleeping in the same bed as—but what mainly bothered you was that the face in front of you and the face in your memories didn’t match… at all. Westview’s Pietro was a completely different person than the one you remembered from a HYDRA testing base, you had been sure of it, although now that you’d lived with the man for however long it’s been, this new face was becoming interchangeable with the old one in your mind. Not only was the confusion about his appearance weird but there was something about his energy that was just wrong; when he’d introduced himself to you that night, you’d seen and felt yellow, burnt at the edges by a soul-sucking black, radiating from him.
All this to note and nothing to come of it so far. Pietro was a bit of a troublemaking deadbeat, albeit a good-natured guy, who slept on the couch and didn’t wake up until anywhere from noon to four in the afternoon. He got along well with the twins, especially Tommy, and other than seeming disgruntled about him taking up space, Vision didn’t seem too bothered by his presence. Wanda didn’t seem threatened or bothered by Pietro being around at all either, except for worrying about him causing trouble; she hadn’t reacted any type of way to him showing up on her doorstep that night at all, other than inviting him inside, which was the only reason you were able to relax around him for the time being.
Tommy and Billy walked past you with bowls in their hands. You gave them each a pat on the head as they went and only stopped Billy to complement the Halloween costume that he wore. He smiled and asked what you were wearing and you were surprised to realize that you hadn’t yet come up with one. You told him to keep a suggestion in mind and sent him after his brother, who was looking on at the snoring mess of a couch-Pietro in admiration.
“Man,” the longer-haired boy said, “he even snores cool.”
You made a face. You weren’t so sure about that.
“I’m gonna wake him up.”
“Don’t!” Billy startled, holding his twin back with a hand on his chest.
Tommy grinned. “You scared?”
“He’s our uncle. Why would I be scared?”
“‘Cause it’s four o’clock in the afternoon and you’re secretly afraid he’s a vampire.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
You looked on at the bickering boys with mild amusement while you got yourself a fruit from the kitchen until movement from the couch drew your attention. Pietro, who was awake now, was slowly shifting around and getting into a sitting position. When he was where he could see you, he gave you a smirk that spelled out nothing but trouble, then winked. You rolled your eyes but stayed quiet.
In less than a minute, Pietro went from tangled in his blanket on the couch to standing in front of Tommy and Billy, yelling something about blood. The boys unsurprisingly screamed, and then the three of them were running around the living room in Halloween-fueled chaos.
You stood at the kitchen counter, cutting your fruit of choice into slices and unreactive other than a little smile toying at your lips.
“Oh,” came a mildly irritated voice as Wanda descended the stairs from the house’s second floor, “somebody better be bleeding, broken, or on fire.”
You attempted to catch a glimpse of her from your place in the kitchen but all you could see was a flash of a red cape. You grinned and hurried to finish slicing and clean up so you could join the others in the living room.
“Whoa, Mom,” Billy said, “Are you old Red Riding Hood?”
There was a moment of silence and you could easily picture the surprised look on your partner’s face before she responded, “No, I am not old Red Riding Hood. [Y/N]’s mother made my costume. Said something about a goddess…?”
Just as you were coming around the corner with your bowl, Wanda trailed off and leaned in your direction for confirmation. You had to force yourself not to stare at the simple but delicious costume she wore, the form-fitting red unitard and pink leggings, for the sake of the other company in the room. Instead, you walked over and slipped an arm around her hips underneath the cape and gave her a nod. “Aphrodite, specifically. She was so excited to hear about my girlfriend that she just couldn’t help herself. Gorgeous and powerful costume for a gorgeous and powerful woman, yeah?” You paused to give Wanda’s shoulder a smooch and waggle your brows at her, much to the twins’ and Pietro’s grossed-out dismay, before you adjusted Wanda’s headpiece and continued, “This rendition of Aphrodite, I think, is actually from a drawing I did of her as a kid, because yes, I was never not a nerd. Mom was so focused on you that she practically forgot about me.”
You knew that for the most part, the story wasn’t true. You knew that beyond the barrier of Westview, your mother was in so state to do such work, nor could she remember you if she wanted to, but something was unnaturally comforting about putting that aside for the time being.
“Wow,” Pietro started, his tone unimpressed, “That is so…”
“Rad!” Tommy exclaimed with a grin.
“…lame.”
“Lame.”
Wanda huffed a bit.
“If it means anything,” you said, pecking Wanda’s cheek, “I think it’s quite well-made.”
Hidden from view behind her cape, you gave her hip a light pinch. That earned you a light slap on the wrist and a look that was equal parts warning and teasing.
Pietro made a gagging noise. “I think it’s worse than the costumes Mom made us the year we got typhus.”
You quirked a brow in Wanda’s direction but as Tommy had done earlier, she tilted her head and stared off into nowhere as she presumably thought back on the subject. Then she squinted and shook her head as she said, “That’s not exactly how I remember it.”
Pietro nodded in understanding. “You probably suppressed a lot of the trauma.”
Well, that was entirely out of left field. You tucked that away in the growing mental file titled “Why New Pietro is Weird.”
Tommy, Billy, and Pietro then broke off into their own conversation. Tommy and Billy went to sit on the couch and eat their food and Pietro went to go get something of his own, while you and Wanda moved out of the way of the stairs.
You took a slice of fruit and popped it into your mouth, then offered her one. She took off one of her long, red gloves and happily took it.
“You do look just… very attractive in that costume of yours,” you said in a low voice after you finished your fruit.
“Is that so?” Wanda gave you another flirty look and casually shimmied her bare shoulders at you and scooting a bit closer. “I can’t wait to see what both of my partners have in store for me.”
You winced slightly but tried to cover it up with a questioning look and a tease. “Was that—? Is that—? Is this flirting, Mrs. Maximoff?”
You couldn’t get anything past her.
“What was that look?” she said, then gasped. “No. [Y/N] [L/N], fashionista, lover of all things bright and colorful and weird, doesn’t have a Halloween costume?”
You glance away, embarrassed. “I’ve just been so busy with moving and getting my house on the market, and it’s been hectic here at home… I forgot! Oh, speaking of which—” You raised your voice a bit. “Billy, costume suggestion?”
“A wizard!” Billy chirped from his place on the couch where he and Tommy were now setting up a video game.
“A ninja!” Tommy suggested.
“A spy!” Pietro hollered as he walked back out of the kitchen with a bowl in hand, which he should in your direction. “By the way, sibling-in-law, mind super-sizing this?”
You scowled at him. “I very much do mind and that’s not at all how my power works, thanks.”
Tommy paused what he was doing on the couch and mumbled, “That would have been such a good idea…”
You rolled your eyes and turned back to Wanda with raised hands and a curious look as the boys settled in to their own world again. “Thoughts? Three ideas, right there.”
Wanda hummed thoughtfully and slowly looked you over. The way her eyes traveled down your body made you shiver.
“Or,” you said quieter, setting down your now-empty bowl on the table behind you and slinked your arms around Wanda’s waist, “I could just be a devotee that is very invested in their work with their goddess, who does their absolute best to follow Aphrodite’s wishes…” You paused and waggled your head a bit as you thought. “Or, you know, a scientist or something.”
Wanda hummed and her hands absentmindedly explored your chest. Before you could focus too much on the way heat followed the path of her fingers, she suddenly perked up and pulled them away to clap once and then waggle her pointer fingers at you. “I know!”
“Oh?” Even as you said it, you felt Wanda’s magic take effect on your current casual work outfit. While the magic wasn’t affecting your body at all, you could feel the tickling of magic and fabric twisting and brushing against your skin.
As you watched, your outdoor clothes transformed into a costume. The sleeves of the simple and somewhat dirtied T-shirt you wore twisted down the length of your arms until they ended at cuffs that were adjustable via silver buttons. The color of the shirt darkened and changed and became red and honey yellow plaid, and a line of usable silver buttons erupted down the center of the shirt’s front; the collar of the shirt flared and stretched into a folded collar of a button-up dress shirt. Not only did your shirt change but another layer appeared on top of it, this being a suede black and white dappled vest whose pattern looked like it was trying to mimic a cow while also trying to avoid infringing on said cow’s copyright. You felt a light pressure around your throat, then something bump against the base of your neck, and upon further investigation, you found a red handkerchief tied around your neck and a dark russet cowboy hat hanging from a leather tie. Your long shorts lengthened and changed color and material into denim jeans, accompanied by a thick leather belt with a large buckle, conveniently accented with a swirling design that involved a W and a V, and two gun holsters that were occupied by plastic versions of the weapon. Finally, on your feet appeared brown cowboy boots with golden spurs to match a golden, comically fake sheriff’s star pinned to your chest.
A couple of thoughts popped into your head as you examined your outfit. First, you couldn’t help but make the connection between the specific shades of red and yellow used on your outfit and the same shades that your partners’ powers took on, plus the WV brand attached to your waist; it was enough to make you snicker. The other thought was how familiar the costume looked, despite mild design changes.
“Am I a knockoff Woody from Toy Story?”
Wanda blinked. “Not… my intention but we did take the boys to see it a couple of weeks ago, so.” She shrugged, then brightened again. “What do you think, Sheriff?”
You leaned back on your heels and rested your hands on your belt—then snorted at how you easily fit into standing like someone out of an old Western movie. Narrowing your eyes at her you said, “Why?”
“It’s fun,” Wanda stated simply, then added, “and colorful. And…” She stepped closer and toyed with the hem of your vest. With a lowered voice, “… I like the cowboy look.”
You forced the smirk pulling at your lips to keep at bay, instead squinting at Wanda and waving your hands around generally. “Is this— Is this your thing? Is Halloween what does it for you?”
Wanda turned her head away as she laughed out loud, which may have brought attention to the two of you if Tommy, Billy, and Pietro weren’t too busy hollering over their game.
“I’m just curious,” you carried on. “It’s fine, I just need to know! For future consideration. Depending on what the preference is, I might just have to put on a little Rocky Horror Picture Show— which isn’t exactly Halloween but you know what I mean.”
Wanda continued to snicker and lightly swatted your chest. Her gaze drifted to look past your shoulder and almost at the same time, you picked up the sound of footsteps making their way downstairs; the last member of your household was finally arriving.
“Now what is going on here?” Vision’s chipper British voice was music to your ears as he made it to the ground floor.
You and Wanda shifted your attention to him—and you immediately started laughing. Vision’s green bodysuit paired with a golden cape and wrestling shorts, and the lopsided paper gem stuck to his forehead to cover his real one, was just too much.
“What?” Vision said, sounding offended, as you had to lean against the table behind you while continuing to cackle. While you looked at him through teary eyes, he put on his best fighting face and threw up his fists to make a few boxing motions. “You think it’s smart to laugh at a world-famous wrestler? I’ll show you!”
You continued to snicker but forced yourself to settle. Wiping your eyes, you quipped back, “We’ll fight and then I’ll use my lasso to tie you up, seems fair to me.”
That made Vision, who was still taking a little time to get used to your boldness, freeze.
One of your favorite things about Vision’s awakening, as you liked to call it, was the gradual change in personality that had come with it. Regaining your past and your abilities also brought a great bout of self-confidence. You couldn’t be sure whether this had been your personality pre-Westview or simply a product of finally putting together a lot of the foggy pieces you’d once been missing but either way, you certainly weren’t complaining. You were still awkward and sometimes just a look from either of your partners could make you turn the color of a strawberry but at least you could manage a tease or flirt without immediately cringing in on yourself, and you certainly weren’t afraid to initiate a smooch.
“Behave,” Wanda scoffed in your direction. She gave Vision a comforting pat on the shoulder, which seemed to set him back on track.
“You started it,” you said with a grin, then stepped closer to try to straighten the fake diamond to no avail. “So. Wrestler?”
“Cowboy?” Vision questioned.
“Sheriff, thank you very much.” You tapped on the badge to make a point.
“My apologies.” Vision said in a teasing tone.
“My wrestler and my cowboy,” Wanda said with a pleased smile.
You squinted at her again. “Seriously. Wrestlers too? I’m fascinated.”
Wanda slapped your shoulder.
Three of you must have caused enough ruckus to break up the house’s other trio because then Pietro appeared at your sides.
“Woah!” the silver-haired man said, “Sweet costume, bro-ham-in-law.”
Your nose scrunched up in a mild cringe. Ew, hated that.
“Let me guess,” Pietro went on, “uh, traffic light.”
Vision sighed. You snorted.
“Half-shucked corn?”
Also a good one.
“A booger!”
And back to ew.
Vision rolled his eyes and gave a begrudging “Yes.”
Pietro fist-pumped the air and danced away in victory.
“By the way,” Wanda said, “thank you for humoring me and wearing this ridiculous get-up, honey.”
“Well, there were no other clothes in my closet, so…” Vision trailed off with a suddenly somber expression, only to break into a teasing smile a moment later. “You are incorrigible, darling. I know you have a secret thing for wrestlers.”
You cackled again as he and Wanda got closer and continued to coo at each other in a way that you found equal parts cute and disgusting. You moved away from them to collect yourself, only to catch their attention.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Wanda said teasingly, “you’ll get your pony-talk too!”
“Please,” you begged with a shaking head and shaking hands, “dear god, no.”
Then Vision waggled his brows at you, hit you with a bad Southern-British combo accent and a pointed “howdy” and you screamed before breaking into laughter yet again.
Vision laughed with you before turning his attention to the boys, while Wanda walked over with a grin and to help you off the ground.
“What do you say, boys?” Vision hollered. “Who’s ready for that first hit of high fructose corn syrup?”
The kids and Pietro kept hollering over their video game.
“I hated every second of that,” you said to Wanda as she helped you to your feet.
Wanda gave you a playful pout, then her smile returned as she straightened the handkerchief tied around your neck. When she was satisfied, she moved the hat from behind your back and onto your head. “You chose this.”
“Mm.” You hummed and nodded while fixing your vest. “I did in fact do that. Lucky me, two for one nerd deal.”
“So, about that Rocky Horror idea…”
You stared at her, bewildered. “What has this day done to you?”
Vision’s attention slowly refocused on you and Wanda as he was getting nowhere with Billy and Tommy, though his eyes still lingered on them and their uncle. “Wanda.”
“Yes, dear?” Wanda chirped, turning her smile to her husband.
“Never told me much about your brother,” Vision said with eyes still trained on the three. “I had no idea he’d be so…” He trailed off as the two boys and one man-child started shotgunning sodas; Vision made a face and gave a thumbs-up as he continued sarcastically, “…great with kids.”
“Yeah,” Wanda replied in a tone that shared his exasperations, “He’s just… full of surprises.”
At this point, you were watching the trio as well. After a pause, you piped up, “I don’t know what you guys are talking about. I think he’s a wonderful role model. Such manners.”
You received the gaze of two pairs of narrowed eyes. You gave them a cheerful smile and quirk of your eyebrows in return.
Vision rolled his eyes and began making his way to the door. “Well, you have fun tonight, darling. [Y/N], will you be joining me later?”
“That’s the plan, beanstalk,” you said. You pinched and tugged the stretchy fabric of his bodysuit and let it snap back into place, earning you a glinting glare.
Then Wanda was following after him, confusion wiping the happy expression off her face. “What? What do you mean? You’re all dressed up and ready to go, where the two of you going?”
Vision stopped faux-boxing your hands away as you continued to try to pick at his outfit to wave his arms around his head. “I’m undercover! Halloween is bacchanal for adolescent trouble-makers and the neighborhood watch is the only thing that stands between the trees and the toilet paper.”
“No,” Wanda said and her eyes blinked rapidly in the way that they did when she was trying to comprehend something that didn’t seem right, “that’s not what you’re supposed to—”
“What?” Vision interrupted in a stern voice, with a pointed look.
“Well…” Wanda crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. Her bewildered eyes darted in your direction just briefly before she turned a scowl on Vision. Lowering her voice a bit, she said, “You didn’t tell me you had plans.”
Vision’s hands rested steadily on his hips and his eyes pointed dull daggers back at her own; it was a stand-off. “Well, I am telling you now.”
I should probably step in, you thought.
“It’s their first Halloween. You have to be there.” Wanda’s gaze turned on you, as did Vision’s in the same moment. “And you too?”
Oh boy.
Your eyes bounced between your one partner’s gaze and then the other’s before it settled between them, where you could see Billy, Tommy, and Pietro’s gaming session had slowed. Billy was talking into a nonexistent camera and you could pick out enough words that what he was talking about were his mom and dad. Pietro was glancing around like he was supposed to be doing something and he even began to stand and make his way over—before you hit him with a warning glare and mouthed “no” that had him glued back to his couch seat.
“Not to throw shade at Vision,” you offered, stepping closer and directing Wanda and Vision a few steps farther away from the rest of the household, “which I’m not doing, FYI, but I will be around for most of the festivities. A surrogate Vision, if you will.”
Both of their gazes softened a bit and Wanda opened her mouth to start her tri-parent inclusive spiel but you smiled and waved both her and Vision off.
“I know already, I know, I was just teasing. Wanda, my love,” you continued and turned your attention to her as you moved your hand from her shoulder to her own, “Vision is a neighborhood watch member and I do believe that all the dads of the cul-de-sac are taking part in… watching over the neighborhood during Halloween. You know how kids—and crazy uncles—can be. And I’m just trying to offer my help because let’s face it, I still haven’t exactly made the best of impressions like you two have managed to.”
Wanda tilted her head from side to side, no doubt remembering your interactions with Dottie that she was present for or perhaps your horror stories of previous attempts at impressing the watch, before giving a resigned nod.
“So, I’ll be here, Pietro will be here, Vision will be around and just doing his job, and everything is going to be fine and fun and… the bomb— Ew, did not like that, and if I ever say it again, please send me to the gallows or whatever cowboys punish people with.”
“Guns, usually,” Vision mumbled.
You snickered. “Well, mine are plastic, so my bad, but anyway—”
Wanda huffed a bit gave you a dismissive wave before you could ramble further. “Fine, fine. But you have to promise that we’ll at least spend the night together afterward.”
That last part was directed at Vision, who responded with a nod. Then he cupped a yellow gloved hand around the back of her neck and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Of course, I promise, darling.”
Wanda, still upset, reacted very little but she didn’t stop him.
Vision straightened up and directed his attention to Tommy and Billy, who were back to loudly playing their game. Making an ominous gesture with his arms as he backed towards the door, he said to them, “You have a spoo-OO-ooky time tonight, kids.”
“Goodnight, Dad!” Billy hollered, with Tommy saying “Bye, Dad” at the same moment. Neither boy looked away from their TV screen.
“Wanda,” Vision said softly to her, “be good.”
As he passed you, he leaned down to give you a peck as well, but you caught him by the cape and kissed his jaw first. As you pulled back, you grumbled, “Be back, Vis.”
His gaze quickly trailed across your face before he gave you a nod and a kiss on the lips. Then he stepped away—and jumped into a strange, half-pouncing pose and said, “I smell crime,” before shuffling his way out the front door.
“I smell bellyaches in the morning,” you said to no one particular as you shut the door behind him.
Wanda trailed after you, frowning, and her hand lingered on the door.
“Hey.” You took her hand and brought it to your lips to kiss each fingertip as she turned your attention to you. “It’ll be okay.”
Now Wanda’s eyes traced a path across your face before meeting your eyes. “How can you be so sure?”
You replied simply, “I have faith in you and Vision more than I do in anyone else.”
Wanda nodded slowly and took her hand back. She turned around, was greeted by Pietro with a scary face and a bottle of shaving cream in each hand, and screamed. She jumped back against you and you circled your arms protectively around her waist. She scolded her twin, “Don’t do that!”
Pietro snickered. “Where do you keep your water balloons?”
“What?” Wanda’s brows furrowed. “We don’t have water balloons.”
“Where are we gonna put all this shaving cream?” Pietro asked, raising the large cans for her to see. He glanced at you where your chin was resting on Wanda’s shoulder.
You gave him a slight nod, then lightly jutted your chin in the direction of the kitchen. “Backyard,” you mouthed, “Shed.”
Pietro grinned.
Wanda scoffed and gave your cheek a light swat. “Don’t encourage him!”
You snickered and smooched her cheek.
Tommy walked over with an opened plastic bag in hand; Pietro used this as an excuse. Pointing a finger at the boy, he said, “It was Billy’s idea.”
“I’m Tommy.”
“And I’m heading back to the house,” you added in. You peeled yourself away from Wanda after giving her a couple more teasing kisses, despite Tommy and Pietro’s gagging responses, and continued, “I’m going to try to get a couple more boxes packed, want to be done by the weekend. See you in an hour or so?”
“How dare you leave me with these monsters,” Wanda said goodnaturedly.
You shrugged as you opened the front door and began backing out of it.
“Don’t worry,” you said, then gave your partner a smirk and a wink, “you’re a goddess, after all.”
===
===
===
You were humming casually as you walked down the street. You kept a close eye on Tommy and Billy as they walked slightly ahead of you, chatting about candy, and a familiar tug in your stomach told you that Wanda and Pietro were still walking just behind you.
Suddenly Tommy and Billy ran off. Pietro yelled the mildly concerning encouragement of “Unleash hell, demon spawn!” Wanda let out a worried holler of your name but you were already heading after the boys.
“I got ‘em!” you hollered with a wave over your shoulder. You jogged after them and scooped them into the air from behind, shaking them around as they giggled. Setting them down again, you followed them up to a house, narrowly avoiding other kids and parents. “You’re not supposed to run off, you know.”
“It’s okay,” Billy stated, “Mom will take care of us.”
“Yeah,” Tommy agreed, “she’s magic!”
You snorted. “That doesn’t mean give her a harder time just because of it.”
The three of you reached the opened door of the house. An older woman dressed as a fairytale queen stood in the doorway, holding a bowl full of candy goodies that she lowered for Tommy and Billy to grab from. You glanced at them to see Tommy shoveling twice as much candy as he should into his bag and rolled your eyes before looking back to the woman. She smiled and said, “Good evening, Sheriff, how’s patrol going?”
You put on your best Southern accent and responded with a tip of your hat, “All’s well, Your Highness. Nothing can get past me and my band of… wizard and lightning bolt.”
Finished with their looting, Tommy and Billy spun around and ran back to their mother and uncle. You gave the woman another hat tip before running after them, chuckling.
“Next house, Mom!” Tommy cried as the three of you reached her and Pietro.
“What am I,” you huffed, “chopped liver?”
“You,” Pietro replied pointedly, “don’t have super speed. Whaddya say, boys? How about you let Uncle P maximize your candy acquisition, huh?”
“Yeah,” Tommy exclaimed, “kick-ass!”
“Language,” you warned with a tousle of his silver-painted hair. You stepped over to Wanda’s side as Tommy grasped Billy’s hand, then reached out for Pietro’s.
“I feel the need,” Pietro started.
“For speed!” Tommy finished. They grabbed each other’s hand and then the three of them were gone in a silvery blue streak.
“Kick-ass,” Wanda said. She stared at you incredulously.
“I see the double standard I’m setting,” you stated. “Also, we’re going to regret letting them leave.”
“Probably.” Wanda gave you an empathetic pat on the shoulder, then spotted someone behind you. She made her way around you and walked over to Herb, who wore a fantastic Frankenstein’s Monster costume, and you walked after her. “Oh, hey, Herb.”
“Oh, hey, Wanda, [Y/N],” Herb responded.
You noticed as you got closer, waving absentmindedly, that he had a wire in his ear, probably set up to communicate with the other neighborhood watch members. You wondered if Vision had thought his cover through and actually told anyone that he was going to help out the watch tonight.
“How’s the patrol going?” Wanda asked.
“Eh, quiet so far,” Herb replied, only for a crackle to sound in his ear. He asked for the two of you to hang on for a moment, then put a finger to his ear. “Say again. All the candy has disappeared?”
As if on cue, Pietro and the twins went zipping by behind him, leaving no candy in their wake. You and Wanda exchanged nervous glances.
“And now all the jack-o’-lanterns have been smashed,” Herb continued. “And now everyone’s covered in silly string?”
“I said we’d regret it,” you muttered to her.
She anxiously looked about, trying to follow the streak flying up and down the street. “[Y/N], honey, could you maybe…?”
“I’ll get the pumpkins and silly string,” you offered, your powers already beginning to warm your fingertips, “you get the candy?”
“Deal.”
Wanda pretended to fix her hair and used the action to mask a subtle power-conjuring gesture. In response, the insides of bowls and bags being held by the people around you began to glow red as their candy was replenished.
Now that you had a handle on your own abilities, it was easy to manage with no hand movements required. The power itself was fairly simple: you could transform matter from one form to another. It came with a couple of other quirks, like a heightened awareness of certain energies—such as Wanda’s magic or Vision’s overall synthezoid being—and being able to use that awareness to find a person if you focused hard enough and paid attention to the pull in your gut but overall, you didn’t find it particularly special and it was nowhere near as powerful as Wanda’s. You could also drain your powers if you used them too long or focused on them too hard, and had to keep a constant source of energy intake to keep both your body and ability’s energy in check; in other words, you were almost always snacking.
It was useful in times like these, though, where you had a target object or objects that needed to be covered up. All you had to do was focus—not too little and not too much, you found through trial and error; that was the trickiest part—and let the prickling heat coat your hands, and then thin wisps of black appeared to float around smashed pumpkins or entangle themselves with lines of silly string. Black turned to white as the transformation began to take place—silly string into fake cobwebs, Halloween-themed strings of light, or sinking into peoples’ clothing to become part of the pattern, and pumpkins into sturdier variations of themselves or other Halloween decorations—before white turned to red and then faded altogether.
You’d think at least one person of Westview would notice such feats of glowing magic and decorations appearing before their very eyes but no. The only indication that anything had changed at all was another crackle in Herb’s ear.
“Oh, nice,” Herb said in response to the talking in his ear, “everything seems to be all good now.”
“Huh, weird,” you said as you casually shook off the tingling sensation in your hands, “I wondered what happened.”
“Pranks, probably,” Wanda suggested after clearing her throat and dropping her hands. “Of course, the watch probably handled it. I’m sure Vision had a hand in it.”
“Vision?” Herb questioned. “Oh, he’s not on duty.”
Nice job, Vis.
“Oh,” Wanda said, “I… I thought…”
“Is there something I can do for you, Wanda?” Herb asked, suddenly staring intently at her. “Do you want something changed?”
Wanda became visibly uncomfortable and she chuckled nervously. “No. It’s fine. Nevermind.”
You eyed Herb; his eyes weren’t quite glassy but they stared with an emptiness that made your intestines twist before they snapped back to normal when Wanda indicated that everything was fine. You placed a supporting hand on Wanda’s back and slowly ushered her away as Herb smiled, waved, and walked off down the street.
“Strange,” Wanda said with a few rapid blinks.
“Very.” you agreed as the two of you walked on. “Are you okay?”
Wanda blinked once more, then stopped walking. “Did Vision lie to me?”
You slowed and turned to face her before stopping altogether. “Well, he’s technically doing his job.”
Wanda stared at you. “Do you know where he is? What he’s doing?”
You winced, then shook your head. “I don’t. I’m sorry. I told him that he should talk to you and he must have decided he didn’t want to ‘get me in trouble’ or something.”
Wanda frowned and mumbled, “What is wrong with us…?”
“I’m sorry,” you tried again as you anxiously toyed with the hem of your short vest, “I want to help.”
Wanda sighed and gave you a small, sad smile. “You tried.”
===
===
===
Later that night, while you and Wanda were back walking with the group, Tommy found himself to have developed super-speed like Pietro because of course, he had. As you’d done for most of the day, you tasked yourself with watching over the kids while Wanda used her time to catch up with her estranged brother. This time, you were watching Tommy zip Billy and himself around to test out his new ability while Wanda and Pietro wandered a little further down the street. Now that Tommy had an energy similar to that of his parents, even if you couldn’t see him, you could hone in on him and follow a familiar pull.
You were leaning against the side of the local cinema, which was currently showing The Incredibles—Westview had apparently shifted decades again—and attempting to make a mental map of Tommy’s speedy travels while using the compass-like pull when the pull suddenly yanked your attention upward. Your eyes shot open as you sought out the call of your attention and against the starless night sky, you could see a pinprick of familiar golden light hovering over a floating silhouette.
You glanced over to Wanda and Pietro, who were deep in conversation. Then a flash of silver light zipped across your field of vision; you stopped Tommy and Billy by turning a section of the street in their path to wet cement.
“Hey, no fair!” Tommy whined.
“My costume…” Billy mumbled sadly.
You tugged them out of the wet cement, turned it back to asphalt, and transformed the mess on their shoes and pants into grass clippings that could easily be brushed off. After doing so, you straightened up and took the toy guns out of your holsters. You thought about turning them into squirt guns and setting the twins loose, then decided that wouldn’t make you any better than Pietro and settled for transforming them into massive chocolate bars instead. You held them out to the twins.
“Take these,” you said, “and be on your best behavior for the rest of the night. Go with your mom and Pietro to the movie showing. Tell them I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”
Tommy eyed the chocolate skeptically before shrugging and taking it anyway. “Where are you going?”
“To make sure Vision gets home on time,” you replied. Tommy shrugged again and walked off, and you started to turn away when you felt a little hand grasp your wrist and the slight spark of magical energy that came with it. You looked down to see Billy staring up at you with wide eyes.
“Do you think they’ll be okay?” he asked softly. “Mom and Dad?”
You took his hand and squeezed it. “Of course, hon’. If anyone can make something work, they can.”
Billy stared for a little longer before nodding. He squeezed your hand back, then dropped it. “Stay safe.”
“That’s the plan.”
===
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You were following your inner compass to Vision, who was no longer flying overhead when you began feeling the weird sensation of something non-physical trying to clamber inside your head. You were tempted to try to block yourself from whatever it was trying to reach you but it didn’t feel threatening. Instead, it felt somewhat familiar and it felt scared.
You paused and try to figure out what exactly it was and as you did so, your head filled with radio static, struggling to get in tune. You focused harder, invited whatever was trying to connect with you to do so, and just as the familiarity clicked as Billy, the young boy’s voice rang inside your skull.
It’s Dad, Billy’s voice said and then the radio static was reappearing. Before it completely overtook him, you could hear, He’s in trouble.
Just as Billy’s voice and then the radio static disappeared from your head, a section of the barrier shielding Westview from the outside world exploded into view. From your previous experience with going through the barrier yourself, you recognized the warping of the static wall as trying to bend around something trying to leave to prevent it from doing so.
Burning heat suddenly flared in your palms, strong enough to envelop your entire arms and lick at your shoulders and neck. Then you were running to Vision’s aid, throwing bolts of glowing energy ahead of you to transform obstacles like trees and signs into harmless items that were no longer in your way as you beelined to your partner. While the visible section of the barrier was easy enough to follow, it didn’t tell you anything about the condition of the person it was fighting against. Instead, the normally steady pang that was now quickly shattering and fading told you Vision was not just in danger but dying, and fast. You attempted to quicken your pace further.
By the time you reached the edge of Westview, you felt sweaty and exhausted, and the numbness of falling asleep limbs was setting into your hands and arms; you’d overused your abilities. Still, when you saw that Vision was nowhere to be seen, meaning he’d managed to make it through the barrier, you pushed forward and started forcing your way through it as well. Although your powers were weak from overuse and nothing compared to Wanda’s they did help make the passage somewhat easier. Just before you broke through to the other side, you felt what could only be described as the magic version of the pullback of a wave before a tsunami was about to hit.
Then you were collapsing on the other side of the barrier. It was hell there—a high-tech military base was set up, trucks and soldiers were swarming around, a woman was being handcuffed to one truck by a familiar man—but all you could focus on was the body of your dying lover laying on the ground barely a foot ahead of you, pieces of him tearing from his body and flying backward to be absorbed by the energy field just behind you. You felt yourself choke out a sob from seeing him in such a state and forced yourself to crawl one inch, then two inches, then three inches forward until you could wrap a weak hand around his ankle and attempt to feed what little bit of energy that you had left into him. You drained yourself little by little of everything you had left until dark spots appeared in your eyesight and you didn’t have enough strength to lift your head or keep a tight hold on Vision’s ankle.
You were about to pass out when Wanda’s magic hit crashed into you like a wave and traveled outward. Then everything went black.
Summary: As they seek out Vision a Westview that doesn’t seem to want them to find him, more memories from [Y/N]’s past begin to appear. They almost seem drawn out of the dark depths of their mind by some unseen force but it’s hard to tell whether it’s friend or foe. Who is forcing [Y/N]’s memories to the forefront of their mind--Wanda or someone else?--and is it tied to the suddenly hostile Westview blocking them from finding Vision? Who is trying to keep them distracted?
Word count: 6,584
Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of death and declining mental health. Mostly angst, tbh.
You were too busy trying to calm the anxious gnawing in your stomach to notice Westview subtly changing around you. It wasn’t until a vine wrapped tightly around your ankle and made you almost trip and fall face-first into a fire hydrant that you looked around with a frown.
The vine itself—thick, spiky, and definitely not native to the suburbs of New Jersey—had sprouted from cracks in the sidewalk, which spread and opened further as other vines crept after it. After tearing the one holding you off and stepping out of its reach, you noticed the fences of houses reaching far past their yards to create maze-like paths that covered the sidewalks and street ahead of you. The houses that these fences belonged to were also warped in a way that made them look like you were viewing them through funhouse mirrors, stretching far into the sky and bending overhead in your direction like they meant to block you from leaving in that direction—or meant to block you from being seen by anyone flying overhead.
Your eyebrows arched so far up on your forehead that you weren’t sure that they were still there. “What the fuck is going on?”
You weren’t as concerned about the magic happening itself—if some random civilian walked by, they’d barely react at all and the maze and houses weren’t causing any actual damage, just being incredibly annoying—as you were by the fact that you couldn’t tell who was doing it. Your first thought was Wanda, naturally, but it made no sense that she’d be trying to keep you from finding Vision when she was the one who’d originally sent you to go get him; not to mention that she’s never created such a bizarre display of magic, at least intentionally. You considered yourself next, as you’ve known yourself to cause random transmutations when you get too antsy, but this wasn’t the type of power that you controlled and when you tried to reach out to interact with the energy, you received opposition instead of energy bending to your will. It was somewhat difficult to pick out because it seemed to hide away under the blanket of Wanda’s magic that reached across everything in Westview, but the aura of the twisted architecture surrounding you was dark and hostile.
You first attempted to humor whatever magic was at play and made your way through the maze but as you did so, the fences shifted around you to extend their white picket prison. You stopped and sighed. “The end is nigh… and I am not going to spend it dealing with this shit.”
A little voice in the back of your head told you that you could probably set fire to the whole magic mirror setup and be done with it but you ultimately decided against it; Wanda would probably find out and definitely wouldn’t be happy when she did. Instead, you placed your hands on the fence and as you did so, posts morphed into gates that you could easily pass through. You continued through the maze via this method and were surprised to feel the opposing magic back away from you after your pushback.
“Oh, thank god,” you grumbled under your breath as you made it through the last of the maze.
Unfortunately, you celebrated too early as the cement underneath your feet suddenly began to melt back into its liquid form. It would have been fairly easy to use your powers to reharden the cement but exhausting yourself fighting with the opposing force until the sidewalks of Westview shifted into grassy fields on its outskirts seemed like a bad idea in the long run, especially with the twins’ disappearance, Wanda dealing with Agnes’s strange behavior, Monica’s return, and the warning churn of your stomach telling you to stay alert. So, you settled for trudging along through wet cement until the magic decided to back off again.
Not so much trying to cause damage as it’s trying to mildly inconvenience me, is it? you thought.
Just as before, once the magic trying to keep you distracted was rivaled by your own, it receded and you were soon walking on the regular, hard sidewalk once more. You cleaned your pants and shoes up by turning the wet cement still clinging to them into something much more manageable—water—and continued on your way. Sorting through the mix of concern, nips of mild hunger, and the energy-seeking compass in the center of your now twisting in every which direction, you managed to eventually focus back into the feeling of Vision somewhere in the distance. It got stronger as you walked, so you began to pick up the pace.
Then your unseen opponent returned, stronger and now in the mental realm instead of the physical. At first, you thought the kickback was just Westview’s borders—the Hex, Monica had called it—trying to right the wrongs of someone within it having memories of the outside world, something you’d experienced before. However, you felt the menace rippling underneath the surface of the haze and when you tried to fight back this time, you were met with an angry strength. The fog making your head feel heavy seemed to spread through your bloodstream and take home in your bones, weighing your body down until you stood still and lame in the middle of a random neighborhood. You were a prisoner in your own body; you couldn’t move even if you wanted to, but you didn’t even know if you did because your brain was so full of dark storm clouds that you couldn’t think straight. You knew that you stared slack-jawed into space but it felt more like you were sitting in a dark room inside your skull and watching the outside world from a TV screen. As you watched on, the fog that took over your mind and body took your eyesight too.
===
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===
The first few memories were fleeting.
You were a few years old and holding your mother’s hand. It was much less boney and knotted than you remembered your mother’s hand being, as was the rest of her. She was younger and stronger, standing next to you in a worn nurse uniform and overcoat and staring ahead with a scowl, concealing whatever emotions she was feeling otherwise. You were in a bedroom that was only vaguely familiar to you and the two of you watched an old man that was barely more than a skeleton slept under a heap of fraying blankets. As you stared on through the wide eyes of your child self, your grandfather heaved a final breath before falling into a deep, eternal slumber.
A couple of years older, you were in the old but cozy, sunny yellow kitchen that your mom love to cook in. You sat at the dining room table, kicking your legs and picking at the splitting wood as your mother and a stranger argued in the other room. You had never heard your mother raise her voice to such an extent before but at the time, you were much more concerned about what kind of sandwich you were going to help her make for lunch. You never saw the stranger aside from a flash of [H/C] as he left and he was never seen or heard of again.
You were still in the kitchen but its appearance had changed ever so slightly. Yours did too, as you were a teenager now, and now your mother sat across from you at the table. Though she was still healthy now, her overall haggard appearance would be one that she carried on for years to come. She was telling you about her doctor’s appointment but you were only somewhat listening as you were stressed about high school drama and final assignments to be turned in before summer break. You heard words like “dementia” and “Alzheimer’s” but the meanings were lost on you in that moment.
Then you were in a nursing home. You could feel the harsh lighting, hear the TV from the lounge behind you. The smell of cleaning supplies burned your nostrils but the smell of your mother’s stale perfume soothed it. Unfortunately, nothing could soothe the ache that made your heart feel like it was going to shrivel up and die when you came to tell her that you changed your major in college so you would be better equipped to help her, only for her unable to recall having a child at all.
You were pinned against a wall in a Sokovian HYDRA base, although you didn’t know the organization that you were studying with was HYDRA at the time. Shivers of equal parts fear and exhilaration made your entire body quiver and the clipboard you’d been holding clattered to the ground. While a large group of Sokovian war protestors had to hunch together to fit in the cramped and cold holding room, Wanda seemed to take up the majority of the space just from her spot of holding you into place. Her hair was a mess and her face and clothes were dirty but her eyes were full of more life than you’d experienced during your entire time working in the base. She was angry and determined and powerful and gorgeous, and she told you that if you ever ran into her again that she’d kill you—and you were surprised with how okay you were about the idea, as long as you got to see her again. When she let you go and you apologized, she told you what she and the others were doing here; this was the catalyst that sent you investigating into HYDRA and finding out about their much more sinister nature, as well as the pain you’d helped cause.
Finally, the slide show of memories slowed and instead of being confined to your brain, you were back in your own body—or so you thought until you looked around and found yourself staring at a younger copy of yourself. Instead of Westview, you were in a HYDRA testing room, and instead of simply re-experiencing, you were quite literally watching a memory unfold around you as if you were an unwanted audience member standing around the active set of a TV show. Or a ghost, you decided, as the younger you walked through you as if you were nothing but air.
Your younger self was dressed in an all-black work uniform and lab attire, with an identification card clipped to your chest that granted you high-level clearance. You’d worked immensely hard playing HYDRA’s game to get to where you were now, which was standing in the control room with two other agents and preparing to analyze the test about to unfold on the other side of a large glass window. In the test chamber, a door slowly slid open and Wanda, unkempt and spacey, entered.
You wanted to break her out. Judging by the way your younger self tensed up—not enough to be noticed by your superiors; you’d mastered your mother’s emotional lockdown of a scowl at this point—your feelings weren’t far off from the initial experience.
Wanda made her way farther into the room, closer to a scepter with a glowing blue stone that was being held on a pedestal. As she did so, the younger you readied their clipboard and pen to take notes and one of the two agents spoke, “For our notes, Miss Maximoff, can you please state your name and confirm your status?”
The younger copy of your current partner did as she was told. “Wanda Maximoff. Volunteer.”
“Begin experimentation,” the other agent—a doctor and one of your immediate superiors—stated.
“Doctor,” the first man said, “with respect, not one subject has survived direct contac—”
He was broken off as the doctor flicked on the intercom to speak to Wanda again. “Touch the sample.”
Wanda made her way forward but before she could do much, the stone suspended in the scepter—the mind stone, you knew now—detached itself and floated towards her. As it got closer, its glow grew brighter and bright blue magic wafted over Wanda as she stared before reaching out to touch it. While you remembered this situation thus far, what happened next was completely new to you. The mind stone shattered before Wanda’s eyes, revealing yellow golden yellow magic that poured from the remains. There was an explosion of light and within it was a flash of a shadow. From where you were standing, you couldn’t quite make out the shape.
Then the light died and Wanda collapsed, and the rest of the memory ran as you remembered. The scientist and doctor ran out to check that Wanda was still alive, while your younger self recollected themselves enough to take pictures of notes and research reports from the control desk with an old school digital camera that they’d managed to sneak in.
“Well,” a familiar, incredibly out-of-place voice sounded from behind you, “that’s a surprise. I had no idea you and [Y/N] went so far back.”
You spun around to see Agnes and a modern Wanda standing just behind you. Agnes watched your echo with mild curiosity as they carefully rifled through the control desk and gathered as much information as they could to examine at a later time. The dark energy that radiated off the woman was the same that you’d sensed earlier, hiding just underneath Wanda’s own. Being this close to the unhidden source now, the magic felt sharp and acidic and tasted like bile on the back of your tongue. The anxiety that had been gnawing at your stomach increased tenfold as your guts twisted around themselves. It had been Agnes all along.
Past you finished their investigation as they were called in to take Wanda to solitary by one of the other HYDRA agents. When they rushed out of the control room, they passed through Wanda and Agnes, confirming that the women were in a similar state of being to you.
Surprisingly, Agnes was completely unaware of current you’s presence. She walked casually over to the desk and attempted to make sense of younger you’s rummaging before making a face and shrugging.
Wanda, on the other hand, was staring directly at you. To anyone else, it could be said that she was simply looking through you who the commotion happening in the test chamber, but when you met her gaze, the slightest of jaw clenches told you otherwise. While it was Agnes—Not Agnes, a ghost of a whisper in sounded in your head—whose magic had been toying with you, it seemed that it was Wanda’s doing, at least to some extent, that brought you to watch this scene with them.
“You know,” the ravenette said, “I really did like them for a while. They were fun to string along for entertainment, and they were a hoot at events and to run errands with. Such an awkward little thing. I could see their crush from a mile away whenever you three were around each other. I just thought they’d be the out-of-place, pining neighbor whose love was unrequited, a comedic plot device of sorts. I didn’t think you would actually return their feelings, let alone both you and your husband, you naughty dogs. I should have known sooner that something was up.”
You and me both, sister, you thought with a soundless snort.
“Oh well,” Agnes—question mark?—said with another shrug, “our friendship was fun while it lasted. Let me know if you ever get bored with them. We did often flirt a bit, [Y/N] and I.”
“What do they have to do with any of this?” Wanda asked, throwing a mild glower in the other woman’s direction.
“Why don’t you tell me?” Agnes responded with a sickly sweet smile, then walked past Wanda and out of the testing room. “Come along, dear! We’ve got much more digging to do.”
Wanda glanced at you one last time before following. After a moment, you trailed after them.
===
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Past Wanda was sitting and watching sitcoms via the one amenity she had the dungeon-like room she was held in when your past self walked in.
“Wanda,” past you gasped and moved to rush to her side before freezing and throwing a glance towards a security camera in one corner of the room. The faintest blue-black light danced appeared to dance around your echo’s fingers as the lens of the camera warped and changed into a round silver disc, then the light disappeared and you watched yourself hurry to younger Wanda’s side.
She didn’t acknowledge you until you placed a gentle hand on her back. She jumped a bit and turned her glassy-eyed, hollow-cheeked face towards you; in the same instant, the TV turned off.
Past Wanda offered past you a wobbly smile that you returned. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a candy wrapped in colored foil that looked neon in comparison to the dull coloring of the rest of the environment.
“Hey, look, Wanda,” you tried, offering the candy to her, “I brought you something. Remember these? You told me once that they’re your favorite.”
Wanda stared blankly at your gift. After a moment, she took it and began picking at the foil.
Past you gave past Wanda another strained smile. Your furrowed brows caused deep lines to be etched into your forehead, showing no lack of concern, but you tried to stay positive. Gingerly running your hand up and down Wanda’s back, you carefully looked over as she freed the chocolate-covered candy from its wrapper. “You look good. You’re doing much better than you were when we brought you back.”
Wanda’s eyes lazily traced the pattern of the room’s stone walls as she brought her treat to her lips and carefully nibbled at it. When she found it free of tampering, she relaxed a bit and popped it into her mouth.
You watched as your past self rested their chin on her shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m going to get you out of here, Wanda. I promise that I’m going to save you. I just… wish you’d let me help you more.”
Well, young me, you thought, you certainly broke that promise, then went off and murdered a bunch of people. Nice job.
Wanda’s past self finally fully acknowledged yours; she rested her head on top of yours and her thin fingers brushed brushed over the knuckles of one of your hands. She shook her head and mumbled, “I have to do this. For my people.”
Your echo sighed. The two of you sat like that together for a few moments longer before you separated yourself from her and headed out of the room. As you walked out of the room, the silver that blocked the security camera transformed back into a lens. Wanda looked back to the TV and blinked, and the television turned back on.
“Huh,” Agnes piped up to Wanda again, “they were just as piney here as they are in Westview then. Weird. I thought they had a reputation as a crazy psycho killer outside? Hoo boy, did you see any of the work that they did after Sokovia? I looked into it when I figured out that they weren’t just another ordinary townee. The Alchemist? Wished I’d managed to keep them on my side; I’d love to sit down and talk about all the ways they tore up those agents.”
You grimaced. You never regretted going on a HYDRA manhunt but it wasn’t exactly one of your most redeeming qualities.
Wanda frowned. “Trying to cope with all they had done while working with HYDRA was too much and they had to do it alone. I told [Y/N] I would return but then I never did. They thought it was their only solution.”
You were surprised to hear her empathize with you, let alone know about your revenge spree at all. You hadn’t realized how much it felt like a secret that you had been keeping from her until a weight was lifted off your shoulders when she talked about it.
“Still,” Agnes said nonchalantly, “turning an alive former HYDRA agent into a very much not alive scarecrow and leaving posting him up in his own field? Genius and I love the creativity. And the way they turned the guy who shot them into a bloody bag of bones? Delicious.
“But anyway,” she went on, the glee in her voice shifting to something more pensive, “little orphan Wanda got up close and personal with an Infinity Stone that amplified what otherwise would’ve died on the vine. The broken pieces of you are adding up, buttercup. I have a theory, but I need more.”
With a wave of her hand, a dark wood door appeared in the room’s far wall. Wanda’s eyes widened slightly with recognition and she immediately walked forward and through it. Agnes trailed cheerfully after her.
You made a move to follow them but you didn’t make it before Agnes shut the door behind her. You jiggled the doorknob but the door wouldn’t budge, and then it melted back into the wall and vanished altogether. While you were relieved to be away from Agnes’s acrid magic, panic rose in the back of your throat at the idea of Wanda being alone with Agnes and you being trapped in a bizarre memory realm with no idea of how to get out. You ran your hands along the wall in hopes of finding the door’s outline once more, to no avail. You spun around to search for another route—
—and you were suddenly standing on a street in Westview.
This wasn’t Westview as you currently knew it but Westview before Wanda had turned it into her special little safe haven. Instead of watching this memory like a movie, you were now involuntarily reliving it as a prisoner of your head again as your body and mouth move on its own accord.
You were paused mid-walk across the street and staring at a breathtakingly gleeful Vision for the very first time. He was standing out in the open without a human disguise of any kind, wearing a very attractive form-fitting turtleneck and looking over an empty plot of land. He must have felt you staring because he turned his warm, earth-shaking gaze towards you.
“Hello there!” he hollered with a friendly wave and a smile that made you wonder if one look from a stranger could make you weep over how attractive they were. He stepped from the dirt plot to the sidewalk, then made his way to the curb. He held a slightly crumpled piece of paper in one hand and you could see a red heart in its center out of the corner of your eye.
For whatever reason—maybe because of the fact that there was a very inhuman-looking man, who was causing your body to have all sorts of reactions, walking towards you—you felt compelled to walk over and meet him.
“Excuse me,” Vision said as you got closer and pointed to the lot behind him, “I’m looking to buy this spot here. Do you live around here?”
Temporarily, while I try to look for a cure for my dumb-bitch memory disease, you thought. Instead of saying this aloud, though, you said something much more stupid. “Are you aware that you’re red?”
Vision blinked. He looked at his hands if he was in fact just now realizing this, then looked back at you with wide eyes. One hand moved to touch the golden gem embedded in his forehead, which you now connected to the mind stone on the previous memory that you had experienced—Wanda’s memory.
“Oh, goodness,” Vision said, “yes I am. I’m sorry, I hope my appearance doesn’t make you uncomfortable. If it does, I could make a more appealing one—”
You felt yourself break into a grin and one of your hands waved itself dismissively at him. “Not sure there’s a way to make yourself any more appealing than you already are. It’s just unusual is all.”
Vision chewed on one side of his bottom lip before smiling sheepishly at you. If only you’d been able to tell when this interaction had actually happened that he was “blushing” in the only way his synzethoid body allowed over you complimenting him; you would have had a field day with making him flustered.
Then his eyes drifted slightly above your eyeline and the hand touching his forehead gem fluttered slightly to the right—his left. Without thinking of how it might come off, he said, “You’re unusual-looking yourself.”
Luckily, you weren’t too easily offended. You briefly touched the gunshot scar on your forehead with one hand, the exit wound scar on your neck with the other, before dropping them both and shrugging. “Got shot in the head once. Operation gone wrong.”
“A soldier?”
Unfortunately, the version of you in this memory was already struggling to recall memories. Instead of telling the pretty stranger that, though, you said, “Something like that.”
Vision nodded and awkwardly fiddled with the paper in his hands. His gaze flitted around before settling on you again, “Well, I think you’re appealing too.”
You felt your cheeks grow warm but you hid your embarrassment with a snicker. “Thanks.”
The man cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that’s good then, isn’t it? That we both like each other’s looks just fine. Not… that I want you to find my visuals appealing. Not— not that that’s a bad thing to be doing so either! It’s just that—” he paused to collect himself. “I have a partner. A girlfriend of sorts.”
“Of sorts?”
“It hasn’t really been discussed,” he clarified, “but we are deep in the throughs of our relationship.”
“Congrats? Also yeah.”
Vision blinked. “I’m sorry?”
You pointed over your shoulder. “I live around here. In a hotel more often than a home but I’m considering getting a rental a couple houses over.”
Because if I don’t find who I’m looking for—a doctor? Scientist maybe?—I’ll be stuck here until I remember where I came from.
You were brought out of your grumbling thoughts by the childish excitement that erupted from Vision’s shining smile and spread throughout his body until he was practically vibrating. He quickly scrambled the rest of the way over and flashed the paper he held at you, then almost immediately folded it up before you could actually see anything other than a flash of red on white. He told you how wonderful it was to be meeting someone from the neighborhood and before you open your mouth to say anything in response, a billion questions seemed to pour one after the other from his mouth. You caught a few—did you know why the plot he was looking at was open, if there was a nefarious reason behind it lacking any home already? Was the neighboorhood safe, did you like it there?—but you soon found yourself distracted by the way the gear-like patterns in his blue irises swirled faster as Vision became increasingly giddy.
Then one word came flying out of his rambling mouth and you felt like you had been hit in the gut with a sack of bricks. You actually had to stop yourself from choking on a gasping breath and steel yourself in preparation in case he said her name again. Luckily, Vision seemed too deep in his his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you blanching from the kickback of yours.
Wanda? It couldn’t be. It wasn’t like there weren’t any other Wandas in the world. Then again, you’d never met another Wanda since your Wanda and there was something about her name coming from his mouth that assured you that his Wanda was yours too.
Is that why you had come to Westview? Was Wanda the one you were looking for?
You placed a hand on Vision’s shoulder, both as a way of grounding yourself and grabbing the man’s attention. It worked and Vision’s bumbling died off as he looked at you with wide eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, and lifted his free hand to scratch at the side of his neck, “I got quite carried away there, didn’t I?”
This past version of you wanted so desperately ask about the Wanda he spoke of, to confirm that she was the Wanda that you’d known in what seemed to be a past life at this point. You wanted to know if she was safe, happy, and if he was taking care of her in the way that she so needed after everything she had been through. When you looked at Vision, though, and the plot plans in his hand and the place of his and her future home, you bit your tongue. Something told you that it wasn’t your time to ask nor was it your right to do so. It had been so long since you’d tried to help the Sokovian woman escape a dingy HYDRA base and failed, and wherever she was now, she was probably better off without you intruding.
You put on a mask of a friendly smile to hide the way your heart was being picked to pieces by a thousand imaginary needles and gave Vision’s shoulder an equally friendly pat. “No worries. I do have to stop you, though, have an appointment to get to. I’m really not the person to ask about future home life—like I said, usually a hotel—but if I have anything to tell you, it’s that this is a good place to settle.”
Vision beamed. “Really?”
You dropped your arm and stepped away from the robotic stranger to take your leave. “This place is easy to turn into a home. You’ll love it here.”
Vision heaved a sigh a relief and he waved to you and you gave a parting nod and began walking. “Thank you! Oh, and it was nice meeting you, neighbor! Hope to see you again soon!”
Something deep in your heart told you that you wouldn’t be seeing the British gentleman again, or maybe you were finally coming to terms with the fact that your brain would drop yoru memory of him before the day was over. You cast one last glance over your shoulder, trying to commit every detail of Vision to memory the best that you could, before heading back across the street.
“Looking forward to it!”
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One minute you were walking and the next you couldn’t feel any part of your body that was below your waistline. The scene had shifted again and you now found yourself staring spacily off ahead. You were outside and you felt the familiar presence of a large facility behind you but you couldn’t place what the building was for or why you were there. In fact, try as you might, you couldn’t place much meaning to anything. Your brain was blank aside from several questions that you had no answers to.
Why were you in a wheelchair? What had happened to your legs? Why were you outside? Why were there old people and people in scrub uniforms milling around you and talking to you in passing as if you had any idea who they were? Where was your mom? You had classes to attend and needed a ride.
You took a sighing breath and felt a tanginess of citrus on your tongue that sent shockwaves throughout your body—or what left of it that you could feel. Your eyes shot open wide and you swung your head around, looking for the source of the taste of candied citrus, the feeling of thin fingers carefully brushing across your knuckles. There was a memory there, clawing just under the surface of thought-killing fungus that seemed to have taken over your head over… however long it had been now. You just had to remember—
Before you could could remember, you saw her appear before your very eyes. She was walking down the street past you with only a green yard and strip of sidewalk separating the two of you. She wore a dark outfit and her hair cascaded behind her in the breeze, fluttering like flames. You couldn’t see her face well because of the distance you could feel the deep, powerful sadness radiating off her in waves; it was almost strong enough to force you into tears. Still, she walked with purpose and she held a piece of paper in her hand that she glanced at every other second. She happened to turn her head to toss a stray chunk of her back over her shoulder and for a brief moment you thought that her dark eyes met yours.
You screamed her name and attempted to chase after her. However, in that moment, you forgot that you were paralyzed from the waist down and stuck in a wheelchair, so when you lurched forward to stand, you were quickly greeted by hard earth knocking the wind out of you. You hissed in pain but the impact didn’t stop you, nor did your lack of working legs. You shoved the wheelchair away in a fit of irritation, then began crawling your way across the public yard, following a trail of a very specific shade of red as you dragged your body along.
You didn’t make it very far before you felt strong hands grasp your shoulders. You flailed around, prepared to fight whoever was trying to disrupt your mission, only for you stop struggling altogether when a flash of reddish hair appeared in the corner of your vision. You looked up at and stared at the only face that held solidity in your mind with eyes the size of dinner plates as she knelt next to you and helped you into a decent sitting position. Once you were settled, her hands moved from your arms to cradling your face and when you could see the heartbreak in her eyes this time, you actually did feel a few tears wet your cheeks.
Your eyes fluttered shut as her gentle hands caressed your face, brushed away the tears that were now flowing like a waterfall. Your own hands found their way to her waist and you held on for dear life. With a wobbly voice that was barely above a whisper, you gasped her name again, “Wanda…”
You felt the warm touch of her forehead pressing against yours, her nose ungracefully bumping against your cheek as she held you. “[Y/N]?”
Hearing your name on her tongue sent you into a fit of sobbing laughter, though you weren’t sure why. Goosebumps erupted across your skin and you felt the stuttering of a billion bird’s wings in your stomach, pounding against your ribcage. You had so many things you wanted to say and yet you could remember a single word, so you merely fell into a bumbling chant of “My Wanda, my Wanda, my Wanda, my Wanda…” Your eyes stayed squeezed shut for fear that if you opened them, she would no longer be there.
Wanda’s lips brushed against your eyelids and then your cheeks, not quite leaving kisses but a warm, tingly feeling nonetheless. A smile was there, you could feel the curve of it as her mouth traveled from your temple to your hairline, but it was one of the same sadness that you’d seen in her eyes. She mumbled against your scarred forehead, “Oh, [Y/N], what happened to you…?”
You finally opened your eyes—luckily, she didn’t vanish into thin air once you did—and finally met her gaze again. You moved your hands to cover hers that still held your face and pressed them harder against your cheeks, as if you could imprint her fingerprints into your skin.
After a moment of just silently basking in her presence, you sighed softly and replied, “I don’t know.”
Pain further etched itself into the lines of Wanda’s face; you quickly reached out to smooth them out with your fingertips.
“You don’t remember anything?”
“Not much,” you replied. Then you smiled. “I know you. All I know for sure is you.”
Wanda looked like she was on the verge of bursting into tears herself but she swallowed her sobs instead. She adjusted her position and sat back slightly, scrubbed her hands over her eyes and looked around at your surroundings. She glanced at the paper she’d once been holding but now sat in the grass next to her before her gaze settled back on you. Sadness shifted into determination as she took your face her hands once more.
“I’m going to get you out of here, [Y/N],” she said, “I promise I’m going to save you.”
You went to nod but the sound of something flying overhead caught your attention, then a flash of yellow light over Wanda’s shoulder.
A powerful jerk in your stomach seemed to control your entire body, forcing your head and body upward. Then you were standing on the sidewalk on the outskirts of a neighborhood with a maze of twisted houses and picket fences behind you. You were no longer trapped inside your own head, watching or reliving memories, but standing mid-step in the Westview that was bubbled by a Hex of modern Wanda’s own creation.
Vision was flying through the air nearby and approaching fast.
Your powers seemed to move one step ahead of your mind; before you finished the thought, one of the fun mirror houses was turned into a staircase that led to nowhere in the sky. As you turned and began racing up them, you waved your arms in Vision’s direction and hollered, “Hey! Toaster oven!”
Vision was clearly on a mission home but you managed to catch his attention before he flew too far past you. He rounded back around and met you at the top of your stairs. He quickly surveyed your immediate surroundings, taking in the bizarre scenery before casting a concerned look your way. “What in the world is going on here?”
“Uh, well,” you paused and took a glance around yourself, then rambled off, “I just spent a nondescript amount of time trapped in a mental live-action remake of my past and I’m pretty sure Agnes is not Agnes but some unpleasant, magic-y person who kidnapped our kids and now is trying to get… something, I’m not sure what, from Wanda. Also, I think she might have a crush on me and I’m pretty sure she caused the carnival set-up next to us.”
Vision blinked. “Well, that’s… a lot.”
You hummed your agreement and nodded. Then you held out your arms to him. “Shall we?”
Vision eyed you from your place on a freshly mutated staircase then snorted softly as he gathered you into his arms, bridal style. “Surely there must be a way for you to travel with those powers of yours.”
“There is,” you affirmed, “but this is probably faster and I should probably keep my strength to save our kids and your wife. Oh, by the way.”
Vision gave you a questioning him as he prepared for flight. You wrapped your hands around his neck and brought your lips to his in an quick kiss. When you pulled away, you met his curious gaze and said, “I’m so happy to have met you.”
Vision’s expression grew warmer and returned your kiss with a softer one of his own. He briefly nuzzled his forehead against yours before pulling away.
“I’m glad to have met you too,” he said softly. Then he shifted his gaze to look past you, towards home, and he said, “Now, let’s go get our family.”
Anon said: “Hello!! I saw that your wandavision requests are open and I had to request something! I’m so obsessed with Vis right now, it’s very bad. I can’t think of any specific plot ideas, all I know is that I would really love to see some fluffy Vision just head over heals in love with reader. Kisses, cuddles, all that jazz. Thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️”
Anon said: “maybe a request where it’s valentines and the reader and Wanda team up to get really dressed up and make an amazing dinner to surprise Vision, but when he comes home and sees them both he’s so flustered that either like has a shutdown or faints? And then obviously Wanda and the reader panic and spend the evening taking care of him and also teasing him for being so adorable/fainting? Thank you!!!”
A/N: Combined aspects from both of these requests to make an ooey gooey Valentine’s Day special (which got belated because I lost half of the writing when I transferred it from doc to Tumblr post :’D)!
Don’t think this is the type of dressed up you meant but I hope you like it, either way! The type of nightwear I was going for with Wanda was something like this.
Subtitles/Captions Masterlist
Tip Jar
Word count: 7,117
Warnings: Valentine’s Day sap. Lingerie, passionate kissing, and everyone being flirty (nothing graphic). Reader makes a really, really, just terrible pun in order to compliment Wanda. This was edited very late at night, so there might be a few errors.
Tag list: @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend (These were the only two on the tag list who confirmed that they wanted to be tagged in everything WandaVision-related; if anyone else on the Subtitles list does, just let me know!)
~~~
“Hey, Wanda?” You hollered to the woman in the other room. You were standing in front of the mirror in the Maximoff bathroom, adjusting the collar of the somewhat too-big shirt you wore.
“Yes, dear?” Your girlfriend hollered back from a couple of rooms away.
“While I definitely get the why we’re doing this,” you continued, tugging the shirt’s shoulders farther to one side, then back to the other, before giving up and moving onto your hair, “with Valentine’s Day and all, you know--”
Wanda piped up, probably to assure you that she was listening more than anything, “Yes, I do.”
You snorted. “--but is there a reason we’re doing so… much?”
As you spoke, you ran your hands through your hair, ruffling it to give it a bedhead type of look. You faltered a bit when your eyes settled on the ugly scar on your forehead that your hair couldn’t cover without being in a bizarre style. You frowned and dug a finger into the scar tissue, feeling very little other than mild pressure when you did so.
There was a pause on Wanda’s end. “You don’t think he deserves it, working so hard this past week?”
You reeled back, insecurity forgotten, and quickly left the bathroom. You walked down the hall to where Wanda was working on her own outfit in the bedroom she shared with Vision, rambling away, “No, no, no! I mean no as in no, you’re wrong, not as in he doesn’t deserve what we’re doing. Of course, he does! To be completely honest, he probably deserves it more than anyone in town--aside from yourself, of course--but… For example, we did a lot revolving around food and… Vis doesn’t eat.”
There was another pause and you halted by the closed bedroom door, mainly to pick a rose petal from where it stuck itself to the bottom of your stockinged foot but also because you didn’t want to walk in on your partner.
“But Valentine’s Day revolves around food quite a bit, doesn’t it?” Wanda said from the other side of the door. At this point in your relationship, you could pick up pretty easily how Wanda was feeling by her tone of voice. She spoke thoughtfully, which wasn’t all that concerning, but there was a certain edge to her voice that made you worried; she was going to start overthinking and scrapping the entire idea if you didn’t interfere soon.
You tilted your head from one side to the other while considering her statement before giving a nod she couldn’t see and responding, “I suppose you’re right there. Lots of holidays do, now that I think about it. Thanksgiving? Turkey. Easter? Candy. Christmas? Just… food in general.”
You glanced around as you spoke. You couldn’t see much of the house from where you stood in the hallway but you knew what to expect when you walked to the main part of the house. All of the house’s lights were off, save for a few lamps that washed the house with what would have been a low, cozy, get-comfortable-before-bed sort of light if Wanda hadn’t used her powers to turn the lightbulbs in said lamps from yellow to a red; because of this change, the dim light gave off a much more romantic energy that fit with the rest of your and Wanda’s decorating. Red, pink, and white rose petals were scattered all across the floor, starting from the front were, where Vision would be when he walked in after work and making a trail to different rooms of the house. One path led to the kitchen and dining area, where you and Wanda had spent a good part of the day preparing various sweet, Valentine’s Day- and romance-themed treats plus dinner and setting up the table with candles and flowers and a pink tablecloth that matched the pink rose petals. Another led to the living room, which was decorated in a similar nature. Thanks to Wanda’s ability to conjure, she was able to quickly clean up the area that was usually hidden under a mess of baby equipment, change the color of the throw pillows and blankets to the correct red and pink theme, and even had “floating” heart decorations that danced across the ceiling on transparent strings; the babies themselves were gone for the night, safe under Agnes’s care once she and you had been able to convince Wanda. Finally, a rose path, accompanied by ceiling hearts, led down the hallway until it made a fading stop at where were you currently stood, leaning next to the bedroom door. The bedroom itself wasn’t decorated and neither of you had really talked about the assumptions that could be made from looking at the trail, but what you had discussed was how many romantic movies Wanda was going to project onto one of the walls after dinner while cuddling would most certainly take place on the couch.
The third path was mainly to guide you down the hallway while Wanda greeted Vision from the kitchen. It was also to lead Vision to go change into his own set of comfy pajamas when you and Wanda would ultimately have to push him to do so after him grumbling about too tired to do so.
Poor thing, you thought while pushing yourself away from the wall.
Being the company’s fastest and best worker, Vision had become victim to Mr. Hart doubling his workload and as a result, the gentleman had been working like a dog for the entire past week. His days had consisted of getting up way too early only to go into work and be worked to the bone, then come home and relieve Wanda of the babies--regardless of her assuring him that she’d be fine while he rested--until he passed out on the couch sometime later into the night. You’d been surprised, after learning of his synthezoid identity, that he’d need to sleep at all but you supposed anyone would need to recharge after a day like that.
You, on the other hand, had racked up some vacation days and, after a chat with Wanda about the upcoming romantic holiday, decided to add an extra day to your weekend so the two of you could do something nice for her husband. You’d probably regret this on Monday but for now, you were just happy to have spent the day working with Wanda and were hoping the rest of the night went well.
Speaking of the woman, Wanda had been quiet for some time now, other than the sounds of rustling fabric. You decided now was a good time as any to get involved before she decided that she should do something completely different and cause all the previous work to go to waste, so you knocked. After getting a verbal invitation, you strolled in, only for a sharp inhale to almost propel you back to slam into the doorframe.
Wanda was standing in front of a full-length mirror against the far wall of the bedroom, anxiously fiddling with what little clothing she had on. She wore what looked like a bathing suit but was made out of a sheer, body-hugging, baby pink fabric and embellished with a subtle pattern of roses. Her back was turned to you but you could see from the mirror’s reflection that the piece still left plenty to the imagination with a more opaque version of the same fabric keeping her chest, the bit of fabric held snugly between her thighs, and even an upsidedown V-shaped panel that was framed by silky white bands and reached from the middle of her torso to the lower part of her hips covered. This lovely piece, clothing an even lovelier woman, was paired with similarly colored stockings of the same fabric, minus the rose pattern, and you were both surprised and amused by the addition of a string of pink pearls around her neck and one wrist with matching earrings and a pair of white low heels with a bow on the toe strap. Wanda’s hair was styled in loosely curled waves, making it look shorter than it actually was, and pushed back with a headband that could be mistaken for a minimal tiara, which was also embellished with pink-tinted pearls.
You knew that you were staring, flushed, and with eyes almost bulging out of their sockets--you knew only because you could catch part of your own reflection in the mirror, not because you could feel anything other than goosebumps-inducing tingles travel across your body--but it took Wanda laughing softly and catching your eye in the mirror to pull your slacked jaw off the floor and close your suddenly dry mouth. You eventually also tried to speak but not much other than a stammering “Uhhh…” came out and you gave up, instead choosing to scrub your hands over your face so you would at least look away.
Then Wanda dared to ask, “So, do I look okay?”
You stared at her again but this time it was one of disbelief. “I’m sorry, what?”
Wanda rolled her eyes and chuckled again at your utter belief before nervously running her hands down along a perfect set of curves. You fully believed she had no intention of torturing you by doing so but here she was, doing just that. If it hadn’t been for the awkward look on her face, makeup-free except for light lipstick and a little mascara, your gaze probably would have stayed with the path her hands made over her stomach and down to rest on her hips. You watched her gaze jump worriedly from one part of her body to the other instead.
“Look,” she continued, “I know I look okay, I know I look fine--”
Fine? Only fine? If Wanda asked you to strip naked and run through Westview while screaming her praises, you would do so without a second thought. Well, you probably would have done it regardless of what she was wearing but you wouldn’t be complaining about the extra bit of help.
“--but ever since the twins were born, I feel a little… hmph… wearing something like this.”
While you couldn’t possibly fathom how she could see herself as anything but one of the most beautiful living creatures ever, but you’d also figured out quite a while ago that she didn’t exactly see herself the same way you did. You chewed the inside of your cheek a bit before walking over and wrapping your arms around her; her own hands settled to rest on top of yours. You rested your chin on her shoulder and met her gaze in the mirror one last time.
“I suppose even goddesses have their insecure days, huh?”
Wanda laughed and rolled her eyes so hard you were vaguely worried about them rolling back into her skull. She lightly slapped your arms but still leaned back into your embrace as she scoffed, “Be quiet.”
“Wanda,” you said, “you had kids. You still look great. You look so good. So, so, so good. Insanely good. Earth-shakingly good. So pretty. Very gorgeous. Amazingly foxy. Incredibly stellar. Your mom body? Could demolish Aphrodite in a beauty pageant.”
You rambled on a bit longer before Wanda was smacking your arms again. She looked more at ease now, though, completely relaxed in your arms with her head leaning into the crook of your shoulder and one ankle loosely crossed over the other.
“Mom body.” She snorted. “Please, enlighten me further about this mom body I have.”
You quickly shook your head and gave her reflection a warning look. “Can’t. If I say much more, it’ll upset the gods. Every single one of them. I’ll be thrown into the pits for all the sinful things I’d have said.”
Wanda’s head fell back as she laughed again; you felt the tickle of her hair against your exposed neck as you grinned against her shoulder. When she settled again, you gave her a serious look, moved your lips to kiss the shell of her ear, then muttered, “But let’s just say you’re a foxy mama in absolutely every sense of the word.”
The woman in your arms erupted with laughter once more, though this time it was short and accompanied by a gentle slap to the cheek. Then her hand rested there, holding your head close as she leaned her forehead partially against yours.
“You and my husband,” she said with a little shake of her head, “and those ridiculous puns of yours.”
You nodded slightly in agreement, then tilted your head to peck her cheek. “That one really was just…”
“Awful?”
“Yeah, no, not good.” You chuckled and reached a hand up to poke her cheek. “Made ya smile though.”
Wanda hummed, squinting at herself in the mirror, then huffed. “I suppose.”
There were a few moments of the two of you just holding each other and soaking up each other’s presence.
Then Wanda just had to ask again, “Do you really think I look okay?”
It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Wanda! You’re so pretty! You’re so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so--”
“You tell me I’m pretty all the time,” she pointed out.
“I have yet to be wrong,” you countered.
She looked herself over again. Tilting her head and glancing up at you from under her lashes, she said, “You could call me sexy.”
“I could,” you agreed, “Don’t want to make you uncomfortable though.”
Wanda raised a brow. “Did I not just say you could?”
You snorted. “Was my foxy mama joke not enough? Do you know what havoc me doing so would release onto the world? Would you want the gods to reject me because of my filthy language?” You leaned your head into her neck while keeping your eyes on hers. You waggled your eyebrows and lowered your voice. “‘Cause I’ll do it.”
Wanda made a face at you, scrunching up her nose and pursing her lips in the special, incredibly cute way that only she could. Then she smiled and ruffled your hair slightly. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind you calling me sexy once.”
“Oh, nay,” you insisted, “if it happens once, it shall happen a million types! An unholy, unhinged, affectionate monster shall be released from its mortal prison!”
Wanda hummed thoughtfully and made a show of tapping her chin and tilting her head. “Okay, deal.”
You rolled your eyes and smiled. Giving her cheek another quick smooch, you said simply back, “‘Kay, you’re sexy.”
She smiled back at you and did a single clap. “Yay.”
“And, hey,” you said, tapping the scar on your forehead, “even if you weren’t a level of beauty that matched an immortal otherworldly being--impossible--at least you don’t have a scar on your face.”
You saw Wanda’s gaze soften in the mirror before she twisted around in your arms to face you. She gently took your face in her hands and your eyes fluttered shut as she leaned up to kiss you directly on said scar.
“I like the scars,” she said softly, “It means you survived something, even if you don’t know what it was, and I’m happy that you did.”
Your eyes blinked back open. “Why?”
“You wouldn’t be here for me otherwise.”
You huffed out a little breath, somewhat involuntarily, and were suddenly very aware of the fact that you two were practically tangled around each other now. You squished your nose against hers in a nuzzle and said in a lower tone, “Lucky you then.”
She dropped her hands from your face to wrap her arms around your neck. She matched your tone and bumped her nose back against yours, tilting her head a bit. “Very lucky.”
It was almost like a mutual decision when your lips crashed against each other.
Having been prone to the feeling of floaty dizziness as a result of your migraines, the feeling itself wasn’t particularly jarring. What replaced the usual undercurrent of pulsing pain, however, was what made this dizziness feel heavenly instead of hellish. When you kissed Wanda, it was like immediate intoxication but instead of booze, it was the taste of the gloss on her lips and the strawberry flavor that still lingered on her tongue from your cooking session earlier that day and the mix of citrusy sweetness from her perfume and shampoo that made you think of candied orange slices whenever you inhaled. You’d always be too busy to mentally describe it while in the moment, far too concentrated on committing whatever part of Wanda’s body that you were touching to memory via your grazing fingertips and adding new scents, words, feelings, images, and whatever else to the catalog of things that reminded you of her in your head, but when you thought about the love-drunk dizziness that followed the initial intoxication after the fact, you equated it to being a little tipsy and stumbling into a warm home. Only this time, home was a woman whose arms and mouth kept drawing you back for one more kiss, and then five more, and the thing that made you tipsy was the way the air crackled with invisible electricity and magic, and the look in her eyes when your eyes fluttered open after parting.
While time seemed to slow to a stop during your and Wanda’s moment, it hadn’t actually done so at all. This was proven when you heard the front door begin to open, causing you and Wanda to practically leap away from each other. She stared at you with wide, startled eyes and you couldn’t help but note your handiwork; her entire face and neck were flushed a deep red, her hair was significantly messier than it had been previously, that the lip color she’d been wearing had been partially transferred to your mouth.
The admiration could only last a moment. “You’re supposed to be in the kitchen.”
“I’m supposed to be in the kitchen,” Wanda repeated. “My lipstick is all over your face.”
You brushed a thumb over your bottom lip and it came away with a glossy pink. “Your lipstick is on my face.”
Wanda stood in front of you, suddenly frozen except for flitting eyes and hands grasping at the air while she tried to think of something. Then, with a couple of snaps of her fingers, she remembered her magic a moment later. “Oh, I can just-- You look amazing, the shirt’s a nice touch. See you out there!” She snapped once more and disappeared in a puff of red smoke just as you heard the front door swing open and Vision’s voice drifted down the hallway.
“Darling, I’m ho-- Oh.”
Then Wanda’s voice also bounced back your way from where she was probably now perched in the kitchen. Her tone was one part frazzled, two parts cheery, and five parts flirty teasing as she spoke. “Hiya, honey! Whaddya think?”
You drew your attention from their voices to the mirror that you now stood in directly in front of. The outfit you wore wasn’t nearly as polished as Wanda’s, but it had its intimate charm. While the two of you both wore stockings, that was where the similarities stopped. Your stockings were a sheer brownish-black and you wore no form of shoes with them nor any other accessories aside from your lightly ruffled mess of hair. In contrast to Wanda’s overall body-shaping attire, the pair of high-waisted silky shorts that you wore were flowy and loose, and instead of the shorts’ matching tank top with uncomfortable lace straps, you wore one of Vision’s pajama shirts that was a similar shade of red with vertical yellow and dark brown stripes. Posing a couple of different ways for yourself in the mirror, you were pleased to find the red and yellow were an almost match to Vision’s skin and the glowing gem in his forehead; with a little more pondering, you were a tad upset that the shirt you were wearing had yellow stripes instead of yellow spots.
If it had spots, you thought, I could look like a strawberry with a thigh-high chocolate dip.
Pleased with your look otherwise, you aimlessly moved about the bedroom before hovering around the doorway where you could almost make out the rest of Vision and Wanda’s conversation. The plan in place was that Wanda was going to give Vision the itinerary for the night--gifts and cards, dinner, because there was food to be eaten whether Vision ate any or not, an indoor movie theater that Wanda would magically whip up, and the rest of the night spent in romantic snuggling bliss--and then would give you a cue. When the actual process of getting the gifts came about, you were to bring said items to the living room, being somewhat of a surprise gift for Vision in your own right. You glanced towards the bed, where a white clothing box wrapped in a red ribbon sat with a trio of cards, one each from you and Wanda and one Wanda had made on behalf of the twins, who were still too young to do much on their own.
You couldn’t be sure whether it was because Wanda had slipped up and mentioned you--it was much harder to hear them from the other part of the house after their loud introductions finished--or if Vision, clever and curious man that he was, had caught on to your and Wanda’s plan already and decided to uncover it ahead of time. Either way, you suddenly caught a glimpse of Vision turning down the hallway, hovering a few inches off the ground to probably preserve the rose petal trail underneath his feet, and jumped away from the doorway before he could see you. While you couldn’t quite make out what Wanda was saying, you could hear a slight strain in her voice as she tried to get Vision to back down from his cause, to no avail. You only had a few moments to think of something and you decided to hop onto the bed and get comfortable in a casual sitting position, moving the small stack of Valentine’s Day goodies and looking coolly off to the side just before Vision floated into the room.
The soft thud of Vision landing on his feet your attention back over to the doorway and you saw him standing there rigid in his work suit, his gaze roaming over you before respectfully glancing away--only to be slowly dragged back less than a minute later. After watching this process continue a couple more times, you decided to tease him.
“Oh, hey there, crimson toaster oven,” you quipped nonchalantly, reaching up to toy with a stray piece of hair as you did, “how was work?”
Vision’s eyes settled on yours as you watched him with a cocked head. You expected some sort of reply, and for a moment he seemed like he was about to speak. Instead, though, he settled into an almost completely frozen state, jaw clenching slightly.
At first, you were amused. Then you realized he was quite literally frozen, nothing moving aside from the whirling of gear-like shapes in his irises, and your facade broke down a bit.
“Vis?” you questioned, sitting up straighter and moving the Valentine’s Day gifts aside, “you okay?”
No response.
You frowned and got up to walk over to him. “Um, Wanda?”
The Sokovian woman appeared a moment later shimmying around Vision’s form to stand next to you.
“Is he okay?” you asked.
“Oh, dear,” Wanda murmured. You watched as her gaze turned red and she looked him over, using her powers to check that his internal functions were still working properly. Eventually, her gaze stopped at his face and after squinting at him, Wanda said, “Ah. [Y/N], it appears we broke him.”
“I’m sorry?” you choked, “Broke him?”
Wanda seemed much less worried than you felt about the implications of Vision being some form of broken. She instead smiled and stepped up to him, giving you a simple “Yep” before pressing her fingers to his temples. Her eyes flashed red again and a second later Vision’s body sagged into a much more human position. “There we go.”
You blinked and watched as Vision shook himself out, flapping his hands and then rotating his arms and neck with a grumble.
“Ah,” he said, “much better.”
You eyed him. “Everything’s chill then? His gears got, ah, de-gummed, so to speak?”
Wanda snickered. She was now tucked against Vision’s side and helping him shimmy out of his jacket.
Vision seemed to remember where he was and what was going on because his eyes flitted from Wanda to you and back. When he settled a bit more, he looked at you both in turn, his gaze making a slow, deliberate path down both your and Wanda’s bodies as he took in what each of you wore. Finally, his eyes jolted back up to meet yours, and he responded in a low, gravelly voice, “Well, right now, I’m doing absolutely marvelously.”
You grasped that everything was back on track again and a smirk graced your face. “Well,” you said, clapping your hands together and turning back towards the bed, “as long as the short-circuit didn’t fry anything, the step of the night is gifts.”
Then you were being dragged back to Vision’s side by your wrist and he had an arm around both your and Wanda’s waists. “Now, just hold on there, [Y/N]. Shouldn’t I get to spend some time with my lovely partners, especially after seeing all the effort they’ve put in? Besides, I haven’t even gotten to compliment you about your looks.” He paused and pressed a kiss to Wanda’s temple, then nuzzled the side of your neck. When he moved his head away again, he eyed the way your shirt hung loosely off your shoulders. “Is that my shirt?”
You and Wanda shared an amused glance. She’d told you earlier that day about the anniversary-Hart family dinner mishap she and Vision had had when they’d first moved to Westview, the same day you’d met the couple, and how Vision and the Harts had come home to Wanda wearing an intimate nightdress that had made Vision more than a little flustered; the story is what sparked the idea for the evening’s current attire. She ignored his comment about you wearing his clothes and decided to nudge him back to the plan as hand, brushing a hand over the suit jacket now hanging from her arm. “I don’t know about that, honey, your eyes were certainly saying something.”
Vision pouted and hummed, probably trying to come up with another reason to keep hugging you and Wanda close to his body. After a moment, he chirped, “Ah, well! I brought you each something and something for the boys, and I left everything out in the living room. We can’t open gifts without all of them, what a pity. We might as well--”
“I have an idea.” Wanda interrupted. When you looked from Vision to her, she was still smiling but her eyes sparked with a playful warning. She freed herself from Vision’s hold, much to the tall man’s dismay, and walked over to the bed. She picked up the cards and tucked them under the arm that also held Vision’s jacket, then brought the clothing box over and held it out to you. “How about I go and make sure the food is warmed up and the table is set, then get all the cards and things into one place while, [Y/N], you give Vision the one gift he should still have.”
You raised a brow as you took the box from her and watched her saunter to the door, consciously moving out of Vision’s range. “You don’t want to see him open it?”
“I saw you open one I bought for you, you get to see the one you bought him,” Wanda said simply. “And I have a feeling that we’re better off if we’re not all in the same room until things get back on track, Vision might run the risk of shutting down again.”
You gasped dramatically and pressed your free hand to your cheek. Looking at Vision with wide eyes, you whispered, “How will I warm my bagels?”
Vision narrowed his eyes and made a grumbling sound from so deep in his chest you could feel the rumble where you were still held against him. Said sound and Vision’s overall reaction so far made you perfectly happy with the idea of the night derailing a bit off course, but you knew how much of a stickler Wanda could be when she made a plan and this was just as much a night for her as it was for Vision or you.
With no further objections, Wanda walked out of the room. The heels she wore gave her a sashaying step and neither you nor Vision were particularly upset as the two of you watched her go. Then the door was shut and you two were alone.
“So,” Vision said slowly as he turned his attention fully to you, “this is what you’ve been up to instead of going to work today.”
“It is indeed,” you confirmed, “and before you say anything else, I know full well what I’ll be getting into when I go in on Monday.”
“I hope so. You’ll be working harder than I have all week.”
You hummed and chewed on your lip as you thought. “Maybe… I could just… quit my job…”
“Hah!” Vision laughed and waggled a finger at you. “No, no, no, no, no. If I have to endure it, then so do you.”
You grinned and turned away from his finger as if to avoid his complaint. He chuckled and tried to catch your eye, rambling away about Oh, the work we shall both do, but you merely twisted away further, feigning beautiful, blissful ignorance. You even went so far as blocking Vision’s face from your sight with the box you held, which made Vision break off briefly to laugh again.
“--and then, maybe someday you will come home,” Vision continued, catching you in his arms again and tugging you close to him, “and see both of your partners, looking very fetching and being even more wonderful than usual because they’ve set up and entire romantic evening, not only because it’s a romantic holiday but because they specifically wanted to plan something to help you relax after a particularly busy week.” He paused, then added, “And it might even be a little better for you than it will be for me because you actually get to eat the food that’s taken up the entire kitchen.”
You tittered, tilted your head in mock thought even though Vision couldn’t see it, and then lowered your chipboard shield just far enough for your eyes to poke out from over it. “Mm, now that does appealing. Just one question though.”
“Of course, darling.”
You waggled your brows at him. “Which outfit will you be wearing, Wanda’s or mine?”
Vision smirked just slightly but it was enough to set off a volcanic eruption of heat throughout your entire body. You felt his fingers suddenly brushing against yours as he started to gently pry his gift out of your hands.
He said, “Depends on what’s in the box.”
He snagged the box from your hands, revealing your blushing face, but instead of opening it right away, his arm moved around your waist to be with the other once more. He pressed his forehead against yours and you felt a different sort of warmth as the golden gem in his forehead touched your skin. He tilted his head closer still to nuzzle his nose against yours then--
You quickly turned your head away again, flashing him a wicked grin when he stared at you, dumbfounded. You draped your now free arms loosely around his neck, fingered brushing lightly against his neck and fiddling with the collar of his button-up shirt. You shuffled closer to him to eliminate what little space left there was between your body and his, looked him in the eye, and teased, “Careful now, Mr. Maximoff. Wouldn’t want to knock another screw loose in that gorgeous, handsome head of yours.”
Vision’s low chuckle vibrated in his chest, feeling almost like a purr against your own body.
“Or,” you added, “knock one too many screws in?”
“[Y/N].”
“Wind the gears too tight?”
“[Y/N].”
You looked at him innocently; the irritated scowl on his face was contradicted by the mischievous twinkle in his pretty blue eyes. “I can keep going.”
“Oh, I’m very aware of that,” said Vision in that grumbling voice that would probably make you implode every time if it were his regular speaking voice, “but we are never going to get out of this room.”
“Interesting hypothesis,” you said with a very serious nod. “You are welcome to test it or stop me at any time. Now, where was I?”
It took a smirk and a raised brow to kick Vision back into gear but then you were grabbing his face and laughing against his mouth as he all but threw himself at you.
Kissing Vision was quite different than kissing Wanda, although no less addictive. Wanda’s kisses always felt needy but not in the way that one would think. Her kisses always felt like she had been lost up until the very moment your lips would touch hers, and then she was finding refuge and trying to absorb every bit of warmth and comfort that came from the way her mouth melded against yours before the kiss ended and she was alone and lost again. She almost always felt soft and sweet against you but you could feel a wild, restrained power brewing just underneath, and her power seemed to draw out and entangle itself with a power of your own, whatever that power was; the kisses never seemed to last long enough for you to figure that piece out.
When you kissed Vision, you could never get the idea that you were kissing someone not totally human out of your head, but in the best way. One of your favorite things to do whenever you kissed him was to run your hands over his skin and explore every single uniquely intricate thing about him, like the way his skin somehow felt soft and dense at the same time and how it was just slightly textured with lines and grooves that felt inhuman or the way that he didn’t really have a heartbeat or a pulse but rather a gentle constant rumbling of whatever gave him life doing its job, and sometimes this rumbling would jolt or slow depending on where you focused your ministrations. No matter his current state of being--exhausted, flustered, distressed--he was always strong and steady under your hands like he was ready to catch you if you suddenly misstepped or fly you to safety at a moment’s notice should the need arise. You couldn’t help equating the way his mouth worked against yours with the phrase “built to please”; he was always curious and searching in the way his hands and mouth roamed, and he seemed to get the most pleasure when he figured out exactly what you needed and did that--and he was much more often than not oh so very right.
While Wanda felt wild, Vision felt grounding. When you were kissing Wanda, you were so focused on her body and yours and the energy that wrapped the two of you up in a magical cocoon that you felt like you could start bursting at the seams at any moment. Kissing Vision got you much more out of your head, to the point where you were merely exploring him as much as he was you, which led to the occasional knocking of teeth or finding a ticklish spot that caused the kiss to break into giggles and teasing; maybe you would go back to kissing or maybe the two of you would slip into a conversation so seamlessly that you wouldn’t even notice until a couple of hours had already passed.
You often wondered if, when you weren’t around and your partners kissed each other, if either of them felt the same thing that you did. You wondered even more often how Wanda and Vision felt kissing you.
This time, though, it was Wanda’s voice from a couple of rooms away, muffled but noticeable, that finally broke the two of you apart.
“Any day now,” she hollered, although there was no trace of irritation in her tone. “It’s not like we only have a few hours left to celebrate Valentine’s Day or anything.”
Vision’s face scrunched up and he eyed the wall that separated the kitchen and bedroom via another room in between. “Mm, she’s got a point.”
You pursed your lips and squinted at the wall as if you would see red magic permeating it if you did so for long enough. “Do you think she X-rayed us?”
Your partner let out a short little chortle as he disentangled himself from you and looked over the box he’d managed to hang onto during your kissing session. “Even if she did, not like it’s going to be any different once we’re all in the same room together.”
“Good point,” you said. “Mm, more kisses.” You were still curious, though, so you hollered back to Wanda, “Hey, magical girl, did ya see me kiss your husband?”
All you got was a laugh back, which had you smiling.
Then you turned back to Vision, who was toying with the box’s bow, and said, “Alright, Vis, happy Valentine’s Day. Now give me your tie and your pants.”
You and Vision joined Wanda in the dining area shortly, Vision now dressed in a dark blue set of silky pajamas that matched your own shorts of the same shimmery fabric. Wanda had lit the candles not only at the dinner table but also around the rest of the house and she’d set proper places for three at the dinner table, although only two of the places had been served with simple dinner and various sweet, gaudy treats. After the three of you sat, Wanda gave Vision his cards: a beautifully designed one with a poem on the front and a lengthy handwritten letter on the inside from Wanda, a handmade one with bad Valentine’s Day puns and flustered ramblings all over it from you, and a “hand-drawn” one from Tommy and Billy that had really been drawn childishly by Wanda again as the babies were still too young to do so themselves. As he’d mentioned earlier, Vision had gifts of his own, which included a Valentine’s Day cupcake of your favorite flavor that he had snuck from work for you, cards and flowers for each of you, and a pair of inversely colored, Valentine’s Day themed stuffed puppies for the twins. With Tommy and Billy mentioned, Vision questioned their whereabouts and was surprised that Wanda had even let them out of her sight, though somewhat appreciative.
Dinner was next and went fairly quickly. You and Wanda ate a late dinner while the three of you conversed, mainly about Vision’s day and overall week but also you and Wanda explaining how you’d planned and prepared for the date without Vision being any the wiser. Vision made a comment that he, as an incredibly smart individual with a very expansive range of knowledge, should have noticed something sooner, which led to another bout of teasing from primarily you about how he’d fried his batteries when he saw his partners dressed up in pretty clothing and one of his shirts. Then topic conversations bounced around aimlessly for the rest of the time until both you and Wanda had cleaned your plates and even helped yourselves to some of the other goodies. Vision absolutely refused to let either of you do cleanup work, so you convinced Wanda to go change into something a little comfier--“At least take off those pearls and heels. Don’t really mind the rest of the outfit, though.”--and then went over to prepare the living room for movies by bringing over a few more treats to snack on, cleaning off an area for Wanda to magically project movies on the wall without clutter, and turning the couch into less of a decorative scene and more of a nest of red, white, and pink pillows and blankets.
Finally, the three of you settled onto the couch with Vision in the middle. That wouldn’t last for long, though, as you each grabbed a blanket or pillow and shifted yourselves into a big, fluffy, snuggle pile. You and Wanda managed to end up squished between Vision’s arms, where both of you could comfortably rest your heads on his chest. You could also slip an arm around Wanda and absentmindedly run your fingertips underneath the hem of the pajama shirt she now wore--another of Vision’s; it was a light blue and white striped button-down--and over the rose patterns of the sheer fabric hugging her hips. Instead of starting the movies right away, the three of you laid in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company.
Vision briefly had to unwrap his arms to stretch and yawn, the yawn something that wasn’t entirely necessary for him. After placing them back, he murmured, “We don’t normally celebrate these types of things, do we, Wanda?”
Wanda’s eyes fluttered open; you had been watching her lay in quiet, cozy peace and she smiled sweetly at you when she caught you. “Goodness, no. We’ve proven time and time again we’re not exactly the remembering type when it comes to holidays. Holidays, events--”
“Anniversaries,” you offered with a little grin. “Especially those that coincide with meetings with bosses.”
Vision groaned softly. “A minor disaster.”
“Ended well though,” Wanda pointed out.
“And provided the idea for this whole thing,” you added.
Vision hummed thoughtfully and you felt his hand run down your back. “That so?”
“You getting flustered over sexy nightwear?” you said. “What potential.”
Wanda snickered. “What potential indeed. We broke the man.”
“Well,” Vision grumbled, his arms tightening slightly around both of you, “I assure you I’m doing fine now.”
You whispered into his chest, “Only because Wanda put on a shirt.”
Your trio broke into tired chuckles, which then faded into warm silence. It continued for a few moments before Vision pointed out that the movie-watching part of the night didn’t necessarily need to happen.”
That you sitting up and reaching for a movie list you’d compiled much earlier in the day.
“We must watch at least one movie,” you demanded, “and that movie is Grease.”
The Vision, The Witch, and the Baby Wizard (Captions)
Masterlist
A/N: Okay, well, two anons had very similar "Subtitles WandaVision taking care of recovering Reader" requests but for some reason when I made this post, those asks disappeared from my drafts, so... Thanks for the requests, anons, and sorry Tumblr wouldn't let me respond to your asks. >:T Also, thank you for being patient with meeee...
Word count: 4,188
Warnings: Reader suffering from a concussion, broken nose, and other mild injuries after eating concrete at the end of Episode 3. Crying babies and baby babble. Fluff.
Under any other circumstances, you would have loved to be spending the day at the Maximoff home, relaxing and spending time with Wanda until Vision got home from a night watch meeting. The two of you could cuddle and chat, you could help Wanda cook; you imagined that there would be lots of kissing and teasing either way. You could play with the babies while Wanda took a break and maybe a nap or, more likely, you could at least watch over them while Wanda busied herself with errands and other chores.
But no. Instead, you were laying on the couch in the living room with an ice pack covering your entire face—which you’d just accidentally dropped on your head after falling asleep—and bandages wrapped around scraped-up limbs. You were nursing a broken nose and mild concussion, the dull throb pulsing from your aching head and bruises lulling you in and out of restless sleep, and Wanda was, unfortunately, taking care of three babies for the time being.
Speaking of babies, while you groaned and checked your nose to make sure you hadn’t made it bleed, the oh-so melodic sounds of the crying twins grew louder as Wanda made her way down the hall with them.
“Hey, baby, how are you feeling?” the woman said as she finally appeared in your field of vision. She held a crying Tommy in the crook of one arm and a sobbing Billy in the other, and exhaustion was written across her face and in the frizz of her hair. Instead of the comfortable dresses she often opted for, Wanda was wearing a pair of shiny, dark green palazzo pants with flared legs and a simple white peasant blouse, perhaps to prevent any dresses from getting snotted or spit up on. Her hair, once cheerfully curled but now flat, was held out of her face and babies’ pulling reach by a scarf of a lighter shade of green and she wore a pair of what were clearly Vision’s house slippers.
You stopped gently pressing at your nose after confirming that it hadn’t been injured further from you dropping an ice pack on it. You readjusted the ice pack that was slumping over one eye back to its spot on your nose and attempted to squirm into a sitting position before dizziness had you slumped back down again. You groaned again at the weird, nauseating feeling of every organ in your body writhing around inside your torso like a bag filled with angry snakes.
Once your insides settled and the only thing keeping you from opening your eyes was the same baby cries that have been present for the past three days, you answered Wanda with a whine, “Please don’t pair me with them, I already feel awful having you take care of me too.”
You thought you heard Wanda snort, then you felt a light tap on one of your feet. Moving very slowly, you shifted to curl up on one side of the couch so she could sit as well.
Wanda said, “You know that’s not what I meant. It was an endearment. Besides, it’s not your fault that you fell in the driveway a few days ago.”
You sent a close-eyed scowl in what you hoped in her general direction. You opened your mouth to respond to what sounded like a quip to your ears only to feel something soft press against your lips. Your brows furrowed and you opened your eyes, then flailed away sputtering; Wanda had stuck out a leg to cover your mouth with the sole of a slippered foot to keep you from talking.
Over your distraught mouth sounds, scrubbing your lips with a hand, and another wave of nausea caused by sudden movement, you heard Wanda struggling to keep her snickers to herself. After a few more moments of you making sure fuzz wasn’t stuck to your mouth and that your lips didn’t taste like dirty shoe—whatever that tasted like—you received a light kick to your hip.
“Wow, Wand, way to kick me when I’m down—literally,” you grumbled. You grabbed the ice pack, which had once again slid out of place and fell into your lap instead, and looked over at Wanda again while pressing it to the side of your face that felt the most out of shape.
Wanda was stuck in a wacky position and staring at you with wide eyes. One leg was still outstretched from lovingly muzzling and then kicking you, and the other was bent into a half cross-legged position with a peacefully swaddled Tommy nestled in the crook it made. The arm that used to be holding Tommy now had a hand clasped over Wanda’s mouth while the other still held a cozy Billy.
You said, “You look insane.” When your partner didn’t respond or even move aside from her eyes glancing wildly from baby to baby, you gave her an incredulous look and followed her gaze as it bounced around. “What? What? I’m missing something—” Your sentence broke off into a silent gasp. After a third glance at the twins—the quiet and peaceful and not crying twins—you finally figured out why Wanda was refusing to move a muscle.
You mouthed at her, They’re sleeping!
Wanda gave you the slightest of nods. After a long moment of all four of you frozen in place and silent, she very slowly dropped her hand from her mouth to mouth back, The first time in almost forty-eight hours.
Thirty-six, you corrected. You grinned at Billy and Tommy in turn and then moved in a sloth-like fashion to give them both a couple of silent claps. Tommy seemed to be dozing finally but Billy, who had been staring at you since you’d opened your eyes, responded with a baby grin and a kick of his little blanketed feet. Since he hadn’t seemed to mind you talking a minute ago you decided to risk a whisper, “Unreal job, you groovy little badasses!”
“[Y/N]!” Wanda whisper-yelled and gave you another gentle kick.
You returned her glare with a cheeky grin before looking back at Billy who managed to free an arm from his blanket cocoon. “It was a compliment, and he doesn’t seem to mind! Do you, Bill? Little Billy-Boy. The Billiest. Magical, partially synthezoid little boy. You know you’re a little troublemaker, huh? Or maybe you just got tired like the rest of us.”
You leaned over, careful of your swimming skull and the awkward entanglement of your and Wanda’s legs, and took Billy’s tiny hand to give it a gentle squeeze. The tiny hand squeezed back in response, which paired with a big-eyed, wondering baby stare was enough to make you break into another aching grin. You kept your personal discomfort at bay long enough to give Billy’s hand a peck before tucking his arm back into his swaddle, then turned your attention to Tommy who received a light head pat.
It was then that you felt Wanda’s gaze following you. You tried to focus on Tommy for a bit longer but your cheeks grew warm when you felt your partner still intently watching you as you finally relaxed back onto your side of the couch. Once you sunk back into the pillows underneath you, you heaved out an exhausted breath as dull aches began resurfacing from your various minor wounds. Just moving around slightly and mumbling to the babies had been enough to drain you of almost all of your energy.
“They haven’t been this quiet since the day they were born,” Wand murmured, and you lolled your head to rest on the beck of the couch so you could still look at her without using any more muscles than you had to. “Now they’re as exhausted as you are.”
“Well, what can I say,” you tiredly mumbled back, “I’m quite the trendsetter.”
Wanda snorted and looked down at the twins, her unkempt hair falling out of its loose scarf and over all three of them like a curtain. Now that the excitement of your sons no longer crying had slipped away, you could see, like before, that Wanda was just as exhausted as the rest of you. Her whole body seemed to sag with the weight of her head and shoulders and her clothes were rumpled. When she sighed, it was heavy, and when she looked back up at you, you saw the tired lines of her face and dark circles under her eyes.
Still, the smile she gave you, albeit strained at the corners, was radiant enough to light up the entire room, to the point where you almost felt like you had to squint, although maybe that was just the concussion-induced migraine. The brightness of it paired with the delighted sparkle of an excited new mother that danced in her eyes were enough to tell you that regardless of what she had to suffer through, screaming babies or whatever else, living in Westview with her husband and babies and—hopefully—you was worth it.
You didn’t realize you were stuck in a lovestruck daze until Wanda saying your name snapped you out of it.
“[Y/N]?” Wanda said suddenly; her cheeks were tinted pink. “Did you hear me?”
You blinked and heat rushed to your own face. “Hm? Sorry, what?”
“I said they look up to you in some capacity,” Wanda repeated. “The twins. Vis and I can’t get them to stop crying for the life of us. I sit down next to you? Not a tear.”
You stared at her.
Wanda snorted and broke into a half-laugh before quickly quieting herself again. “What?”
Trying to hold back a grin, you whispered, “They look up to me because they’re tiny. They have no choice.”
Wanda gave you a shove with her foot and rolled her eyes so hard that, if you hadn’t broken into a giggle fit at your own joke, you would have been worried that they’d roll right out of her head.
“Shh!” Wanda whisper-yelled, only to snicker a bit herself, “And if that’s the case, would you tell them that we’re both taller than you are?”
“Hah! And lose the only power I have? Never. Now c’mere.”
Wanda raised an eyebrow.
You gave her a beckoning nod of your head, then groaned because you moved your head, then weakly reached your arms out towards her. “Gimme babies. Come lay with me for a bit.”
Wanda pursed her lips in thought but ultimately shook her head. “I shouldn’t. I’ve got some cleaning to do, cooking before Vis gets home. I should put them down and get some housework done while I can.”
She picked up Tommy and moved to swing her legs off the couch but you hooked one of yours around hers before you could. When she scowled at you, you arched your eyebrows and made grabby hands at the babies.
“What if they start crying as soon as you get up?” you questioned, “We’ll all be miserable all over again. Don’t forget, I’m the baby wizard. You’ve got magic, Vis is… well Vision. And I’m the wizard of babysitting.”
“Is it babysitting if they’re your babies?”
“Don’t change the subject! I may not be of much use right now but the least I can do is take care of them while you rest and then go back to your Super-Mom duties.”
Wanda chuckled and watched you continue your grabby hands and soft chant of “Ba-by wiz-ard, ba-by wiz-ard.” The chuckle turned into another brief laugh and she finally caved, scooting closer to pass off the babies to you. You happily took them and nestled one each in the crooks of your arms, then snuggled farther down into the couch as Wanda disentangled your legs and crawled over you.
“One hour,” Wanda said. She jabbed a finger at you then settled between your legs, wrapping her arms around your torso and resting her head on your chest.
“One hour,” you grumbled back. You gave each twin a light kiss on your forehead, then nuzzled your face into Wanda’s citrus-scented hair. Now all cozy and warm and snuggled up, sleep had an easy time persuading you. Still keeping a solid hold on your babies, your eyes fluttered shut as you slowly sank into a doze.
You weren’t sure how long it was until Wanda’s sleepy voice caught your barely conscious attention again.
“What do you see when you stare at me like that, [Y/N]?” she asked. You felt her readjust her position a bit so that her head was nuzzled under your chin.
You hummed until you could get your mouth back in order enough to properly talk. Hopefully, the little words you managed to get out before falling asleep managed to get your point across. “You. Happy.”
===
===
===
You were awoken by the savory smell of food that had your mouth watering before you were fully conscious. It took you a second to remember where you were or what decade it was but two little bundles in your arms and the lack of weight on your torso quickly brought you back. You blinked your eyes a few times to get the sleep out of them, then took a quick look around. Tommy and Billy were still safe and sound in your arms, breathing softly with not a tear in sight, and as you expected, Wanda was no longer laying on the couch with you.
“How long did you end up sleeping?” you asked through a yawn. You gingerly shifted into a more comfortable sitting position and looked around again; this time you noticed that the living area’s coffee table had been dressed up like the dinner table, with a makeshift tablecloth and a few sets of dinnerware. You quirked a curious eyebrow and looked towards the kitchen, where Wanda was busy preparing food.
“Like I said,” she replied, “one hour. You were still knocked out, so I let you and the twins sleep.”
“One hour exactly?”
Wanda looked over at you and gave you a pleased nod. “Yup.”
You hummed, then gingerly tilted your head towards the coffee table. “What’s with the coffee-slash-dinner table?”
Wanda set a couple of small dishes on a table tray and made her way over to you with it in hand. Setting the tray on the table—you caught a glimpse of several small portions of what she had been cooking and your stomach growled—Wanda squatted down next to it and picked up a spoon. “You haven’t been able to move much, so I figured we’d eat out here tonight.”
“What, are you and Vis gonna sit on the floor?”
“When he gets home, he’ll help you take the babies to bed to prevent any outbursts,” Wanda said, then grinned as she pulled a couple of large cushions out from under the coffee table, “and I snagged a couple of Agnes’s meditation cushions earlier today. Apparently, they’re also good for your posture!”
“Great,” you said, “I’m useless and I get to take up all the sitting space.”
Wanda scoffed and lightly swatted your arm with the spoon she was holding, then used the spoon to scoop up a spoonful of what appeared to be a thicker, more seasoned chicken soup. “You can’t help being injured, [Y/N]. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to taking care of yourself sometimes, I swear.”
“That’s why we look so good together,” you grumbled, “Everyone in this household is a mess in one way or another.”
Wanda ignored you and raised the spoon to your mouth. “All you have to do is let us take care of you for a while. Now, try. Chicken stew. One of my mother’s recipes.”
The smell of the stew made you want to drool. It was your turn to give in this time, so you let Wanda feed you the spoonful. “Holy fu— I mean holy heck. Sorry, babies. Wherever you are, Mama Maximoff, thank you.”
There was a tinge of sadness in Wanda’s next smile but then she perked up as she reached for a spoonful of another dish. “It wasn’t something we had often but it was always something magical. Get-well food.”
“Dear, food,” you prayed aloud, “please send help, I want to die.”
Wanda snickered and held up a spoon of the second taster dish, this one having a spicy aroma that stung your eyes and made your stomach growl again. “Good then? Let me know if I should change anything.”
“Perfection and also I want so much food.” You paused, then added, “Actually, I don’t know if I’ve eaten today.”
“You tried breakfast this morning and almost got sick. The fact that you can eat this time must be a good sign.”
You ate the second spoonful, then said, “Yay, good sign. Healing food help.”
You and Wanda chatted a bit longer as she had you taste-test the last of her dishes, then she carried the tray back to the kitchen to finish up cooking. You asked what time it was and found out you had slept significantly longer than one hour and that Vision would be getting some quite soon. Eventually, the two of you settled into a comfortable silence and you listened to Wanda casually hum as you gently bounced the babies in your arms and, when you were feeling somewhat emboldened, tested how much you could move without getting winded or nauseous. Then, at some point, Tommy decided to wake up have a very important discussion about taxes in baby babble.
“I do agree,” you replied as Tommy wriggled in your arm and cooed at you, “tax fraud is a reasonable crime.”
“[Y/N],” Wanda said, “stop teaching the children about breaking the law.”
“He started it,” you said, only to get angrily goo’d at. “Well, you did! I wanted to talk about why paisley is the worst fabric pattern.”
Wanda’s laugh was drowned out by the front door unlocking and Vision making his way inside.
“Hello, family!” Vision from behind you. You heard the door close and some light thuds as the man kicked off his shoes. “Oh, where my house shoes?”
“Sorry dear,” Wanda said and briefly stuck one leg out from behind the counter, “Borrowed ‘em.”
You gasped at Tommy and bounced him in your arm. “Daddy’s home, Daddy’s home. Look who it is, even though neither of us can see him because we’re facing the opposite direction. It’s Mr. Dad!”
Tommy cooed.
You scoffed back. “Always taxes with you.”
“Who’s talking about taxes?” Vision sounded much closer now and luckily, you didn’t have to twist your head around to see him. Instead, he moved around the side of the side and into your field of vision, then knelt next to you and gave Tommy a grin and a little wave.
You nodded your head at the talkative twin. “This one. He wants to be an accountant.”
“Oh?” Vision reached over and took one of Tommy’s waving hands to hold. “Is that so?”
Tommy kicked his tiny legs in protest.
“My mistake,” you said, “he wants to fight an accountant.”
Vision laughed softly at your nonsense. He gave Tommy’s hand a shake before releasing it, then used the same hand to ruffle what little hair Billy had. Finally, he smiled at you, which you returned, and leaned over to give you a gentle kiss. When he pulled back, he carefully ran his fingers through your hair and lightly massaged your skull and neck. “How’s the head and nose and everything else, my love?”
You groaned happily and leaned into his hand, especially when he found a particularly tight spot in your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut as you responded, “I can manage three positions thus far. Slumpy because I can’t lay down all the away, partially sitting, and almost completely upright sitting.”
“Almost completely upright sitting,” Vision exclaimed, “That’s almost sitting. Congrats!”
“Oh, I so do miss the days where I could sit completely upright without feeling like my head was going to pop off my body and fly around the room like a deflating balloon,” you said, opening your eyes again and gazing wistfully into space.
“Very visual,” Vision commented. His eyes drifted towards Billy and you followed his gaze to find that the second twin had now also woken up and was staring at his dad with bewildered eyes.
“Who’s that?” you crooned at the baby, “Hm? Who is that, little man? It’s your dad! Oh, by the way—” You turned back to Vision and switched back to your normal voice “—you’re supposed to help me maneuver them to the bedroom so we can have floor-dinner.”
“Floor-dinner,” Wanda reprimanded from the kitchen and you could easily visualize the roll of her eyes happening. “[Y/N]!”
“Sorry, dinner on the floor,” you corrected and directed the confused Vision’s attention towards the dressed-up coffee table. “You know, because of the whole not sitting completely upright thing. Wanda made healing food.”
“I’m going to assume that’s also an exaggeration on your part,” Vision said as he got back to his feet.
“It’s stew,” Wanda explained. “Mom’s old recipe.”
“Magic stew,” you agreed.
“Just stew.”
“Well it’s nice to see you feeling better again,” Vision said as you cackled. He offered his arms and you handed Billy and Tommy off to him, then attempted to move into a better position to put your feet on the ground.
“Why can’t I just put the babies away?” Vision questioned as he watched you carefully move to your feet.
“Because,” you started, then paused to steady yourself as your stomach suddenly started to churn. You flinched and held onto Vision’s arm and took a few more moments to collect yourself before trying again. “Because if they get even a couple of feet out of my presence, we suspect that they will cry and then, naturally, unleash the apocalypse.”
“Ah.” Vision nodded. “Completely understandable. Shall we shuffle at a slow and steady pace to the nursery then?”
“I think we shall.”
As you and Vision did just that, half-clinging to each other as you slowly shimmied your way across the floor and towards the hallway, you felt Wanda’s gaze trail after you. Not long after you and Vision turned the corner down the hall, you heard Wanda burst into giggles. You grinned and glanced at Vision, who was smiling as well.
“We must look like quite the pair, eh?” your sythezoid partner asked. “Two people, two babies—”
“And a whole lot of pain and nausea,” you finished with a somewhat strained laugh.
You saw Vision’s expression soften a bit as the two of you entered the twins’ bedroom. Vision helped you settle into the nearby rocking chair while he placed Tommy and Billy in their crib. After placing them down, Vision froze in place to see whether or not they would react to being without a parent holding them. When he didn’t he very carefully backed away from the crib and backtracked to where you sat.
Both of you stayed silent for a bit longer, then Vision asked in a voice barely above a whisper, “Do you think we’re safe?”
You didn’t respond right away and instead eyed the crib. You made a few random movements, like tapping your feet and waving an arm in the air, and when no babies burst into tears. You gave him a nod. “Think we’re alright.”
“Fantastic, let’s beat feet then.” Vision moved to help you stand but you suddenly stopped him. Thinking you saw the babies beginning to stir, he froze again, and you took the opportunity to sling your arms around his neck.
“Carry me,” you said with the sweetest smile that you could muster.
“Why, you…” He broke off into a chuckle and easily hauled you into his arms, careful to not jostle you too much in the process. Then he carefully made his way out of the nursery, tugging the bedroom door closed with his foot.
“My hero,” you sang at normal volume when the two of were free and batted your eyelashes at him.
“I think I would make quite a good hero,” Vision responded. “Quite a dashing one, don’t you think? In fact, I think I was one in a past life.”
He gave you a cheeky smirk and little eyebrow wriggle, which you responded to by grabbing his face and squishing it in your hands. You slowly leaned up and kissed his forehead, quickly replied with “The most dashing,” and then gave him another full kiss on the lips.
He paused his walk to the living room to briefly kiss you back, then gave you your own kiss on the forehead, and walked over to where Wanda was finishing up serving dinner at the coffee table.
“We’ve returned!” Vision chirped. He helped you sit back on the couch and get comfortable again, then moved to one end on the table.
“The boys?” Wanda asked as she gestured for Vision to sit on the nearest meditation cushion.
“Safe,” Vision answered, sitting.
“And sound,” you added.
Wanda lightly clapped and sat as well. “Great! Mealtime then. Here we have the chicken stew and…”
