Limited Time Only
WandaNat x GN!Reader
Summary: It’s been weeks since the relationship between Wanda, Natasha, and you have felt the same. Lately, you’ve been the only one trying to repair things. When they both come home late one night, you find out why they’ve started to distance themselves from you.
Warnings/Tags: angst, break-up, hurt no comfort, no use of y/n, age gap relationship, r in early to mid-twenties, wandanat in mid-thirties, avenger reader, extraterrestrial reader, superpowered reader, non-canon timeline, lots of crying
Word Count: 4.45k
A/N: enjoy as much as possible, i'll think about putting a part two out within the next couple weeks after requests and a couple other things! i might do a poll for a happy ending or a sad one. also idrk how to fix the odd formatting, i just paste everything from my word files onto here, does someone know how to correct the weird spaces and shit?
Masterlist
Wanda and Natasha have been quiet lately. It’s more than a period of reservation; you’ve found that it’s a withdrawal from you and a pull to each other.
The first few weeks, you’d told yourself it was just work. Their unit had suffered a loss on their last mission, and they were still recovering all the while planning a flawless extraction for captured S.H.I.E.L.D agents. So, you picked up the slack around the floor. Instead of letting either of them handle meals or trouble themselves with cleaning up, you decided to shoulder it all.
Sometime after, you were assigned a solo mission with logistics that had quickly worn you down. Dealing with an influx of responsibilities as the team’s trust in you grew, pushed you into various team meetings, conferences, court appearances, and briefings. Coming back to a home that had to be reconstructed together with your dedication to the Avengers had become increasingly demanding. You fell sick from overwhelming stress by the end of the month.
If Wanda or Natasha had noticed your never finished meals, thinning hair and frame, booming coughs, blemished and feverish skin, or inability to stay asleep, neither of them had said a thing. Internalizing it all, you turned back to slowly redistributing household tasks, eager to nurse yourself back to health and feel like a unit inside your own home again.
That feeling never came back.
You had all but withered away alongside them. For the last six weeks, you have approached them countless times looking for answers, a way to fix what’s been broken between the three of you. Each time, they had no response. Your distance continued to grow, and your relationship fractured.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d fallen asleep together, lingered in bed and begged each other for five more minutes before training, gone on a date, or sat around your dining room table accompanied by anything but the sound of utensils against dishware. The hope that the damage wasn’t irreparable had begun to dissipate. But you wanted to give it one last shot.
It’s Saturday. They’d told you their visit to Maria’s would be a few short hours, that they’d be back in time for dinner, and like the idiot you were—you’d believed them. Only as you sat in the living room, waiting for the elevator to ding and F.R.I.D.A.Y. to announce their arrival, did you remember the last time they promised you a swift return and failed to uphold it.
You grew wary the first time it happened. Blew up their phones for an hour. It took you pinging them to make Natasha finally call back and tell you not to wait up. It’s been five weeks since.
You thought you knew better, starting dinner at half past seven, nearly an hour after the time you agreed on, now that you had a grasp on their new habit. But even two hours later, both of them were a no-show.
You stared at your phone, curled into yourself on the couch, television off, eyes strained, and heart aching. The last text you sent stared back at you, the word ‘delivered’ sitting just under it.
Had they even thought about you?
The dinner you plated had lost its warmth an hour and a half ago, the wine cork was waiting to be popped, and dessert sat in the ice box waiting to be served. You were unsure whether it had begun to freeze or not. You didn’t really care anymore.
You turned your phone off with a click and turned further into yourself. You knew this would be another night without any sleep, just endless thoughts about what you’d done wrong and how nothing you did would be enough to fix it if neither of them could show up for you.
A part of you knew this relationship was coming to an end, but there was no way you wanted to let go. Wanda and Natasha owned you; both heart and soul. If it was over, what would be left for you to claim? In your mind, rebuilding your identity, your routines, your humanity, was an impossible feat if they weren’t beside you.
If they cut this love short, would you go back home? Would you leave Earth, the friends and family made, the memories and its innocent people, behind?
Before you could decide, a familiar ding and your favorite artificial voice sounded out across the floor. Your heart jumps as the smooth and heavy door of the elevator works itself open. The sounds of boots clicking and low conversation come to a stop, presumably, at the sight of you and the dining room. Your name is uttered softly by Wanda, and you flinch, readying yourself for the excuses to fall from their lips.
“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll put it up so you can have it after training tomorrow.” Your voice was muffled by the pillow you’d stuck yourself onto, but you knew they’d heard you.
“We just—” You cut Natasha off, sitting up quickly and facing the two of them. Your eyes were red, not from crying, only pure exhaustion.
“I don't want to hear any excuses tonight. I understand. Could we just go to bed?” Natasha’s mouth stayed open, unable to respond. Wanda gives you a stiff nod and takes Natasha’s hand, dragging her to the bedroom.
You follow behind them sluggishly, your palm itching as you stared at their intertwined fingers. Your eyes watered as you tried to recall the last time they’d held onto you with such mindless affection—out of habit even. You blew out a silent breath as you urged yourself to put away any feelings of discontentment for tonight.
Instead of stripping along with them in the center of the room, you venture into the walk-in closet and drag your own clothing off its hanger and out of the drawer. You hear the shower turn on, and your lips tremble at the thought of them getting in together, without you. A tear slips down your cheek as you attempt to withstand the feeling of being left out once more.
As they wash up, you trudge into the kitchen. Almost robotically, you pull out a container for each of you, all the tops color coded, and begin to push dinner from their plates into the glass bowls. Not having the energy, you rinse the dishes and leave them in the sink, place the wine back in its fridge, and wrap dessert up properly, expecting it to be eaten sometime tomorrow or placed in the team’s common room when Wanda and Natasha didn’t touch it.
Yelena and Sam would surely be the first to start devouring it.
A small smile builds as you imagine crumb covered mouths, and their pupils blown wide from true delight after having your planet’s equivalent of a sugar-loaded dessert bark.
You linger in the kitchen for a bit longer, nails tapping over the marble countertop as you stare blankly at the backsplash. It was made entirely of stones from the forests of your home. In the middle of the night, it glowed just enough to pull out the right snacks for you and Natasha to share when neither of you could sleep.
You missed the nights when Natasha’s eye would pop open minutes after your own. She’d slide out of bed and help you escape Wanda’s arms without waking her. You’d patter down the hall all while discussing which snacks to munch on and what package would make the least sound.
Your breathing evens as you think of when you’d sit beside her, sometimes in her lap, as you spoke quietly about your dreams or plans for the next day. How, when your eyes drooped too low, she’d carry you back to bed where Wanda would receive you two with open arms. Her body was always warmed by sleep and a weighted blue comforter.
Before them, you had never known a love so tender.
Now, your midnight journeys to the kitchen were taken alone. Natasha feigned sleep these nights, you felt the way her heart would beat erratically against your back when she had nightmares; you knew she’d awoken when the light snores would change rhythm and vary too widely in volume. Somewhere along the way, you convinced yourself she wasn’t avoiding being alone with you, she just didn’t want to bother you or Wanda anymore.
Not wanting them to come looking for you, though you doubted they’d seek you out, you shake yourself out of these thoughts and make your way back to the bedroom.
You wish you’d chosen the couch that night.
“Surely, you aren’t serious?”
You feel yourself sway slightly at the sight of them. They looked snug as they cuddled up. The problem wasn’t how comfortable they looked without you. As you approached the bed, you expected them to separate. Your place had always been between them. Natasha on your left, Wanda on your right, rarely had it ever changed. For either of them to avoid separating from each other, especially as you lifted the covers, made you break.
It was insulting, the expectant looks on their faces as Natasha patted the space beside her. You didn’t want to be left on the edge of things anymore. If anything, the only ritual holding you together these last few weeks was the space they made for you at the end of the night. If you couldn’t count on it during the day, there was always a pillow between them waiting for you at bedtime. Always.
“What’s wrong?”
Your hand clenched the fabric, arm still in the air as you stared in disbelief. “What’s wrong? You must be joking? Please, tell me you are joking and I will ignore it all tonight. Please.”
You watch as Wanda’s brows furrow, and she shakes her head lightly before responding.
“We don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re lying!” You throw the comforter down and back away from them. Their faces screw up at the action, and you can’t help but feel even more wronged by their growing exasperation.
Natasha chooses to pacify you instead of fueling your anger, but there was nothing she could say that would truly calm you. “Detka, we’re tired. Can’t you just get in bed for us?”
“Is that what you really want?” You stare at them.
Wanda’s green eyes widen at your inquiry while Natasha’s darken at what feels like an accusation. It didn’t matter if they felt accosted by your words. You needed to let everything out, to understand what was going on. Such a small act of detachment has broken you. There wasn’t a dam strong enough to withhold your emotions in this moment.
You suffered a healthy silence before the tears started pouring out.
“I have existed on the outside of this relationship for weeks and now you cannot do me the service of a space in our own bed?” You gesture forward to their still tangled limbs.
Wanda sits up then. “Natasha just asked you to sleep beside us, I’m not understanding what the issue is right now.” She runs a hand through her hair as she stares up at you.
Despite standing above them, you felt as though no power was within your grasp. There were feelings of undiluted rage, resentment, and offense ready to spill forth with no true strength to hold back or tone correct.
“I always sleep in the middle! That's my place! It’s mine! And you’re taking it away from me.”
Your chest heaved as you yelled at them. You knew how immature you sounded; you must appear like a petulant child, you think. Regardless of how upset you were, none of it was starting to come out as you hoped. You wanted to be taken seriously.
“It’s just one night, detka. Can we please just—” Natasha’s voice was grave, irritation started to creep into her tone, and it infuriated you. You were the only one here who deserved to feel annoyance in this situation. Your yelling was the least of what you felt compelled to do.
“But it’s not just one night, Natasha. It is every day and then this night. What did I—Can you tell me what I did wrong? Please, I will fix it right now. I promise you.”
“Honey...” Perhaps Wanda began to feel your power bubbling under the surface, how unstable your mind had become, how fast you’d gone from yelling to pleading—near groveling. You felt her resolve breaking before Natasha interrupted her.
“We can discuss this in the morning. Here.” Natasha crawls out of bed and chucks open the blanket, throwing a careless hand towards its middle. “Get in bed.”
You wanted to scream. It was as though she was telling you to shut up, and you couldn’t take it after their constant dodginess around this conversation. You were fed up with putting their fear of confrontation before your own heart.
“I don’t want to have this talk in the morning. I want it tonight. Why are you avoiding me? This game of evasion is ruining me, and neither of you seem to care. Do I not matter to you anymore?”
Your hands clenched and unclenched as you looked between them, Wanda in front of you and Natasha beside, both unwilling to speak first.
“Right.” You nod and turn away.
You begin to pace with your eyes cast down, chest heaving, and power thrumming within your veins. You didn’t want to appear as a threat to them, so you willed yourself to take deeper breaths and started counting.
“That’s not what’s happening. We care about you, it’s just—”
Wanda couldn’t seem to come up with the words.
You scoff and speak half-seriously. “What? You don’t love me anymore?”
The silence that followed was one that could kill. That couldn’t be the truth. You wouldn’t accept it.
“You don’t?” Your voice trembled as you asked her, then turned to Natasha, searching conflicted eyes and taking in hesitant lips. “And Natasha?”
“We do.” She found her voice.
“Then say it.” Your power flickered about your frame, golden wisps and sparks pulsing in time with your racing heart. All of you was on edge, your senses had enhanced themselves without a thought, and it started to hurt—attempting to dampen them. You would fall apart if you didn’t hear it from them.
“We love you, detka. But we can’t do this anymore.” You felt your heart break in an instance.
They watch as you stumble backward, unable to fathom what’d been said. Your eyes began to flicker, your humanity began crumbling in front of them, and your foreign skin itched to be shed in the center of the room.
Weaved into Wanda’s explanatory tone was bits of trepidation, understanding of the fragile state you were in, and a knowingness that her softness was needed in such a moment. “Natasha and I have been talking, and we think it’s best if our relationship ends here. We want different things.”
“No, we don’t. We want each other. That’s enough. You told me that’s enough, so what do you mean ‘different things’?” You growled out, voice booming and falling between something human and something terrifyingly feral.
“We want a baby. We want a family.” Natasha pushed out the truth through gritted teeth, her stature losing its perpetual strength.
So that’s what this is about.
Your eyes dimmed, losing its glow to the revelation. “So, what then? You’ve just been learning to live without me for six weeks? I told you that we could be a family, I just need time. We’ve talked about this again and again, and yet this is where we end up?”
“We’re both getting older.” Natasha threw her hands up. “Earth is calm and most importantly, safe. Half of our team is building families outside of this tower. Everyone our age is getting married and having babies. We don’t wanna wait anymore and you have so much of your life ahead of you. You’ll live for half a millennium, of course our life paths won’t align. Any family we build together wouldn’t last a quarter of your lifetime. This is a reasonable decision. Please tell me you understand where we’re coming from.”
When you don’t respond, she calls your name out softly, further imploring you to see things from their point of view.
You blinked as you took in the assassin’s words, a dull ache starting to settle somewhere in your chest. Your tears wet the fabric of your night shirt as you sniffle.
“The both of you have spent nearly a decade together. I ask for three years, and you find yourselves impatient?” You eye both women, disregarding their looks of remorse as you talk.
“Children change everything and you know this. I wanted to share a life with you before we started a family. Our second anniversary is next month, and you couldn’t wait? I can't even say you should’ve thought about this before you committed to me, because you did—we did! All three of us have had endless conversations about what this means.” You gesture between you all. “Being together. And you promised me our love would come above all. You agreed to this and now you’re throwing it back in my face and asking me to understand how you’re abandoning me because of FOMO? I can’t believe this.”
“I thought this could work, but we want more, and it’s not something you’re ready for. We love you, malyshka. We didn’t want to pressure you into this by giving you an ultimatum. We wanted to end this cleanly.” Wanda wanted you to trust they’d never intended to hurt you, but you couldn’t imagine this ending any differently. You were bound to be heartbroken; there was no easing this pain.
“There was never going to be a way to end this cleanly. I love you. I don’t want to leave our connection behind. We can start a family, as long as it’s with you, it doesn’t matter. Please don’t leave me. We can have a baby!” You cried into your hands.
Wanda’s next words are chosen carefully; nonetheless, they tear away at you more than she could know. “We’re doing this for you, as much as we’re doing this for ourselves.”
“Our relationship won’t account for ten percent of your lifespan. You are bound to move past us.” Natasha adds.
You didn’t know if it was an attempt to assuage your anguish or to alleviate the gross amount of guilt that’d been choking them from the beginning.
“Stop saying that! Stop thinking you know what’s best for me.”
Your legs had finally given out, and you slumped to the floor with wet palms covering your ears. They both move as if to catch you before drawing back outstretched arms, finding themselves too far and too late.
No matter how enhanced your senses had become, the sheer volume of your own bawling drowns out the sounds of Wanda’s not-so-quiet tears. With you curled into yourself, there was no way to observe how this was wrecking them as well. Natasha’s hands shook violently by her side, she tries folding them together, wanting to hide it, needing it to stop, but there was no use. She sits on the edge of the bed and Wanda’s head immediately meets her back and within seconds her shirt is dampened.
Her hands cover her face, mirroring your earlier position, and her elbows rest on her knees, evidence of her pain wets her wrists while she shakes, silent cries rocking her body. Wanda and Natasha knew they’d gone about this the wrong way. Over the weeks, it ate them alive to see your face fall after every shot at confrontation and reconnection.
The room was filled with shuddering breaths and sniffles as you three spent minutes collecting yourselves. None of you could look at each other, afraid of choking up again and descending into hysteria.
You were the first to speak.
“Since the day we met, I was prepared to love you both for every second lived. You’re demeaning the worth of our relationship, in my life, without truly considering me. This isn’t a matter of statistics, Natasha, it’s just love. I see a full life with you. Both of you will age. I understand that. I will always take care of you, our children, their children, and their families. I would commit an eternity to doing so if I had to. All I have asked for is time, and you couldn’t wait another year before bringing this up again?” You stared vacantly at the wood floors, your fingers scratched at your pajama pants, and you hiccupped between words.
Wanda wiped her nose. It glowed a sickly red, rosy and stuffed up by mucus. “That isn’t fair to you. You should be with someone to fulfill you for the rest of your days. Natasha and I can’t give that to you.” Her voice cracks at the end, and again she’s in tears.
You raise your head to look at them now, eager to make them hear the way you yearned for them. The women wiped their faces constantly. Their skin grew more and more flushed from friction. It was a tragic sight, something you knew would stick with you forever.
“Just the mere thought of either of you is sustenance. I want you and that’s all that matters. Please, think this through.”
Nat’s voice was thick with emotion, no longer able to stay strong for anyone in the room. “We have. For six weeks, we have.”
A drastic wave of passivity crashed over you, bringing you to terms with your inability to hold onto a devastating love. “So, this is why you wanted to talk in the morning? A little more time to absolve yourselves of this guilt?”
They both shook their heads frantically, not wanting you to misunderstand them, but it was futile. Nothing would get through to you anymore. You felt listless. Your body had experienced severe emotional whiplash within the last three hours, and the last thirty minutes had effectively killed any light inside of you.
“We wanted each of us to have a clear head.” The witch muttered ruefully.
“Right.” Your lips twitched.
Then, with all the strength you could gather, you lifted yourself up and padded into the bathroom. You looked through cabinets and drawers until you found what you needed. At some point, both Wanda and Natasha had made their way to the ensuite’s entrance, watching with tear-stricken faces as you packed up your toiletries.
“What are you doing?” Wanda whispers, somewhat apprehensive after witnessing you, void of emotion, work around the counters.
“Leaving.” You zip up the bag and brush past them into the room, heading for the closet.
You find a step stool somewhere near the door and unfold it, already scanning for what you needed on the high shelves.
“We can sleep in the guest room, you shouldn’t have to leave.” Natasha offered, making an effort to provide you with some kind of familiar comfort after such an intense night.
You didn’t reply. They would have each other in an unfamiliar room. There was no way you would fall asleep, wrapped in sheets that once held together the love of three, alone.
Only when they saw you pull down a duffle bag did they understand you weren’t just going down the hall, you were truly leaving. You don’t pay mind to their stuttering heartbeats and withdrawn breath; instead, you fling clothing into the bag, not truly comprehending what was going in or staying out. You were unsure if half the clothes inside were even yours. You didn’t know, you just wanted enough to cover your ass and get out.
“It’s late, detka. Stay home with us for now, please.” Wanda’s hand fell lightly on your shoulder as she begged you.
Her kind touch caused your skin to burn and fine gold lines to stretch out just beneath, this small wave of power appearing as though it was reaching for her. You craved her, your power craved her magic, and you could barely resist her. If Natasha touched you next, you weren’t sure you’d be able to leave. Understanding this, you zip up the duffle over-hastily and whip around with a cutting glare, hoping you looked as threatening as possible.
Your eyes flash gold as you bark out. “Do not call me that.”
“I’m sorry.” Wanda squeaked out, stepping back in submission.
It ought to have made you pause, the sincere apology and pitiful sound that’d left your witch—the witch. But you push the urge to double back aside, needing to escape this floor as soon as possible.
Natasha held herself back from reprimand—because what right did she hold now—as she questioned you. “Are you staying in the tower at least?”
You didn’t know before, but hearing it being asked aloud made you resistant to the idea. You wanted to be as far away from them as possible, but with a mission pending and the team counting on your participation, the option of going off-world was null.
“Don’t worry about it. I can take care of myself, Natalia.” You catch the way she flinches as you slide past her and into the hall, making a beeline for the elevator door.
You were surprised she didn’t voice her vexation at the way you addressed her. It always peeved her when you, or Wanda, would use the name non-affectionately. “That’s not the point and you know it.”
They’re both hot on your heels as you speed through the hallway, calling out for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to send the elevator up.
“Well that kinda became the point when you decided to break up with me.” You bite back, anger starting to fight its way to the surface again.
It’s easily swallowed down with Wanda’s next words, only leaving annoyance in its place. Annoyance at how a steady and warm tone could begin to pull you back into her so easily, annoyance at how she believed either of them were due any answers from you, and an annoyance that you knew would, eventually, only simmer into guilt.
“We’ll be at peace knowing where you are tonight.”
The elevator dings and you step in, unwilling to face them as you go.
“You don’t deserve it.”
The two of them watch the door close, marking this chapter unfinished. They fought the ache as they stood there, along with the feeling that called them to chase after you, apologize, and make things right. A chill shot up Wanda’s spine as her body began to process her standing, barefoot, on the foyer’s tile. She walks over to the living room, seeking a plush warmth that would never reach her heart, when she spots it.
“She didn’t take her phone, Nat.”
There would be no way to track you.
