[xenaizogie]

Hey there! 👋🏾 Hi! 👋🏾 Hello! 👋🏾 I'm LT, she/her, 38, woman lover🫶🏾✨✨ Asks are open, go on don't be shy! ☺️☺️ I wanted all the things in one place so...

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The Things

Izogie

Insatiable Desire: Chapter 1 Chapter 2

A Day In The Life

One Rule

Carol & Maria

Will you stay?

Random

Rosvolio

Rosaline Edit

Rosvolio Edit

Funko Pops!

Funkos!!

[black-culture]

Reblog if you’re Black for good luck

[lostatsea-blog]

The Moments Between - Part 1

The Quiet Between Missions.

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Romance/Friendship

This is a new ship to me and one that I currently seem to be obsessed with. This is a slow burn story in which the two woman get to know each other in the moments between saving the world.

Being an avenger was not always about the mission. That was certainly what they were known for but what people didn’t see was the empty space between each existential criss, between each Earth destroying bad guy. This was the time when the almighty force, known as the Avengers, were just people. It was in these in between times when the team really got to know each other.

Natasha Romanoff was a woman of routine. Regardless of any mission, she lived her life in an orderly fashion, with a familiar routine. One element of that routine was training. Unlike some of the other members of the team, she didn’t have any enhanced abilities, any special suits or any super strength. Natasha was just an ordinary girl, training by secret Russian operatives to be an assassin. Okay, maybe not that normal but in order to maintain her abilities, training was essential. Which is why, most mornings found her in the tower’s gym.

Usually, it was easy to find someone to spar and grapple with. Most of the guys jumped at the chance to go head-to-head with the Black Widow, even if only for bragging rights. Occasionally, Natasha let them win. Recently, she had been training with one of their newest members, Wanda Maximoff. The young Sokovian, had phenomenal magical ability but also needed to be able to fight hand to hand, which is why Natasha had offered to be her training partner.

Wanda had been sceptical at first, sure that Natasha had an ulterior motive and just wanted an excuse to punch her for things that had happened in the recent past but to her surprise, Natasha had been a patient and knowledgeable teacher. She had gone at Wanda’s pace and seemed to instinctively know if she was pushing the young witch too far. Wanda had found herself enjoying the training sessions with the Russian. There had even been times when Natasha had found the young Sokovian in the gym before she got there. Which is why Wanda’s absence this morning felt unnerving.

Natasha glanced at the clock on the far wall, the digits glaring back at her 7:06.

Wanda wasn’t someone who was late. Not because she was obsessive about timekeeping or keeping to a schedule but because she was someone who hated to disappoint others. Wanda had this obsessive need to apologise for her very existence as though her presence in the compound was an inconvenience to everyone. It was something Natasha had noticed early and it was also the reason why Wanda’s current absence alarmed her.

With one last glance at the door, Natasha rolled her shoulders and stepped towards the heavy bag in the corner of the room. She started with a gentle warm up combo, which activated her muscles and had the bag rocking slightly. The familiar rhythm settled easy into her muscles as she started to increase the intensity. Training was almost meditative for Natasha. The one place where her mind became blissfully quiet – Except today it refused to cooperate.

As she moved, her eyes kept drifting towards the door, waiting, expectant but nothing.

Ten minutes later, Wanda still hadn’t arrived and Natasha was finding it difficult to settle into her training. Her mind told her to leave it, that Wanda might need to the rest but she knew that the young witch would never just not show. She valued people’s time; she would have sent a message.

“You waiting for someone?” The voice of Steve Rogers pierced the silence. She had forgotten that she wasn’t alone in the gym and he had noticed the glances she was sending towards the door.

“Just taking a minute.” The spy shrugged not wanting to share her thoughts with the man.

“I thought you had been training Wanda.” Steve commented, also noticing the absence of the young witch.

“Apparently not today.” Natasha shrugged moving back towards the bag. Steve was not an idiot and could tell when the Russian wanted him to go away so that was exactly what he did. Natasha threw a few more punches at the bag but it was futile, her mind would not allow her to settle. She pulled the wraps off her hands and headed back upstairs.

The tower was starting to wake up now. The smell of pancakes, bacon and fresh coffee drifted from the communal kitchen. Somewhere nearby, music played from hidden speakers controlled by Tony Stark who was always about the ambience.

Natasha’s eyes swept the room automatically. Clint was balancing an enormous pile of pancakes on a plate while trying to pour juice. Tony was talking animatedly to Bruce about something while the latter was just trying to read the morning paper while Vision stood beside the coffee machine as though observing a social experiment as he watched the humans interact.

No Wanda

“You lose someone?” Clint asked, having noticed her sweep of the room.

“Maximoff.” Natasha replied, “You seen her?”

 “Why don’t you ask Shakespeare over there.” Clint answered pointing to vision, the nickname coming from the synthezoid’s current fasciation with the English writer. Vision spoke before Natasha had even started walking

“I have not seen Miss Maximoff this morning so I can not assist you.” He replied

“When did you last see her?” Natasha asked

“Yesterday evening.” He tilted his head to the side as though retrieving a file “her appearance and vital signs suggested she was fatigued.”

The words lingered in Natasha’s thoughts as she remembered yesterday’s training session. Wanda had been sluggish, her reactions slower than usual, her punches less impactful. She had noticed but had chalked it up to recent missions and Wanda needing more rest. Now, she wondered if she should have checked in with the young witch.

Without explanation, Natasha turned, her feet guiding her down the corridor following a familiar path towards Wanda’s room. She stopped outside the familiar door and hesitated. Wanda had chosen not to come out for breakfast and not to go to training and she was entitled to privacy. She might not want Natasha checking on her.

Her concern overrode her brain and she knocked gently.

The silence beyond the door stretched long enough that she considered walking away but then she heard movement and the sound of someone shuffling towards the door before the door was pulled open slightly.

Wanda’s face was downturned, her auburn hair was loose around her shoulders and she was wearing a loose, oversized jumper that swamped her small frame. Almost immediately, Natasha noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes and the heaviness in her posture. Inside, the curtains were still drawn against the bright light of the morning. Natasha opened her mouth to speak but Wanda beat her too it.

“I know, I missed training.” She muttered, still not lifting her head to meet Natasha’s gaze. “I was going to send a message.” She said eventually, “let you know I was going to be late.”

“And then?”

“Then it became easier not to come.” She replied with a shrug. She let go of the door and turned back towards the bed. Her movements were slow and sluggish. The young Sokovian hadn’t closed the door, so Natasha followed her in. Her eyes scanned the room taking in the details. The untouched plate of food from last night, cups of tea with one mouthful taken and left to go cold. The rumpled bed, that indicated restlessness.

“You didn’t sleep last night.” Natasha stated

Wanda looked up, surprise flickering across her features, “How did you know?”

“Details.” Natasha answered with a wink and watched as a feint smile tugged at the corner of Wanda’s mouth. She shouldn’t have been surprised, Natasha noticed everything, weather you wanted her to or not.

“I notice the things that matter.” The Russian replied honestly before she had the chance to consider her words. For a moment, both woman fell silent, the words settled in the air between them. Natasha was rarely careless with her words and yet that admission had escaped before she’s had the chance to process it. She almost took them back but the brief light that flashed in Wanda’s eyes stopped her. Natasha searched the green eyes before her and could see a person who had forgotten how to exist and was only just finding her way back.

Wanda lowered herself down onto the bed. Her eyes travelling around the room looking everywhere except the woman that now stood before her.

“I didn’t mean to worry you.” She said quietly.

“You didn’t.” The lie came out automatically. Natasha had been trained to never show her emotions, to never let someone know that they affected her. Wanda lifted an eyebrow unconvinced, challenging the woman before her. Natasha quickly amended “not at first.”

“So, it is not worry that brings you to my door.” Wanda challenged further and Natasha remained quiet. “You are a terrible liar.”

A dry laugh escaped Natasha “It is actually something I am very good at.”

“Not with me.” A simple line, delivered with precision and it had Natasha straightening without thought. Despite all of her training, she was being undone by a little red haired witch.  

[passiko6]

[the-grassy-hill]

sorry if i come off as rude my mother didn't like me for several years

[romanoffsbish]

A Beautiful Mess

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

College AU; Nat x Yelena x Sibling!R

Warnings: Wanda is a bit of a Fuckboy, aka, Angst -> Fluff | Themes of Insecurity | Violence/Injury. |

Smut: Switches. Mommy(Slip) (W), Detka/Good Girl (R) Oral/Fingering (W), Face Riding (R). Tribbing. Degradation. Praise. Overstim. Marking. | WC: 9,198

When Valkyrie had invited you out tonight you were hesitant to accept the offer, and when she simply reiterated her words with an emphasis on date you were stunned into breathlessness.

You weren't known as a party person, you were a homebody that joined at the most random of times, as in when forced by Yelena or Wanda.

——

Your little sister always wanted to keep you included, because she loved having you around, and well, you made her feel safe. Instead of saying this, she'd get you to go by telling you that staying home with your books and studies made you too boring like Natasha and she couldn't stand to have another her.

You knew, without a shadow of doubt, that Yelena would not approve of this date, she is a fan of vetting your potential suitors—all one of them that you've had, and she's good at the job. She expressly warned you just how bad news that devilish woman was. You brushed her off though, and by the following weekend you were ugly sobbing over a pint of ice cream with your sisters. Natasha held you, and Yelena held a smug grin until the redhead swatted it away.

Doubling down, the blonde had sworn you off from her Rugby teammates, she knew how they got down, and she'd warned you of their severe inability to commit to a game plan most days, let alone to another human being. So trusting the woman tonight was a gamble, you'd always been told that that was what love was. It was meant to, hypothetically, be well worth the risk. Your mother Melina's lengthy divorce an example of the potential fallout, but even with the odds stacked against you, you're gonna try.

Which is probably why you don't gamble much.

Then there's the problem of Wanda Maximoff, the woman that makes your heart beat wildly in your chest. Like now, just the thought of her gets you excited beyond words, but you've got no right to feel this way, she wasn't yours. At least not the way you want, you were merely friends with exponential benefits, like sex. 

You trust her wholly, you've known her since middle school, she was Nat's best friend, so the unwelcome feelings of love sadly made sense.

You'd always been just as close as you were all in the same grade, but where their relationship was a strong platonic field of friendship that was oh so easy to navigate, the two of yours was more like a shakily crafted dance, there was an obvious mutual attraction, but it was usually disregarded for the sake of peace. Nat was fiercely protective of you along with Lena, and truth be told so was Wanda, you were too nice, so they always had to look out for you.

It was exactly why when you set off for college, instead of the military like Natasha, that you'd ended up with the woman as a dorm mate. Nat had pleaded with the school to make it happen, and though Wanda was nonchalant about the whole making it happen part, she was ecstatic when move in day came. After the first set of frat parties you'd all attended there was a shift between the two of you, it was as if with your minds clouded that invisible barrier fell away.

The following morning came with headaches, and before you could express how happy you were that this finally happened Wanda spoke up first, and made you grateful you never did.

It was well known to you that she enjoyed her freedom, and that included being able to sleep with whomever, whenever she pleased. You also knew that no one else got to cuddle her afterwards, so you took that as a win, she clearly loved you, she just didn't know how to.

She came from a broken family too, her father died when she was younger, and her mother eventually remarried an asshole for his surplus of money, she couldn't fathom finding love if it was so easily lost, and the way her mother tried to replace her dad left a bitterness in her heart.

So for a little over two years now the two of you've been sleeping together casually, well as casual as two people can be when ignoring the glaring truth. The feelings you have for her continue to grow by the day, but you expertly keep them locked away in a vault located beneath your heart. Ignorance is bliss right?

Most importantly though, neither of your sisters know about the sex. They loved Wanda, but they loved you a hell of a lot more. You knew if your sisters figured it out the whole thing would come crashing down, and you couldn't risk that. You'll take Wanda in whatever way she presents herself to you.

The only problem you face here though is the brunette's jealousy, she tries to mask it when she sees you swiping on apps, but you see it. Every time without fail she'd find a way to wave off the people on the app, "They're too ugly for a pretty girl like you Y/N," or "I know them, trust me, you're not missing much," and her favorite is, "Aren't we having enough fun?"

It was usually then that you'd lock your phone and leave the dorm in a hurry. The last thing you wanted was to blow up on her, but it also hurt to be treated this way by the one you love.

As if you were meant to rely on her for all your affection, but she could seek it out elsewhere.

Wanda was good at making you forget the hurt when you'd return, she'd pout at you as soon as you entered the dorm, then without words she would apologize. Usually with dinner, and a movie that led to you beneath her, her plans of one sided exclusivity working once again. But in this scenario she wasn't able to stop the ball from rolling as your majors were opposite.

Wanda couldn't keep Valkyrie from getting to you when she was unaware of her interest, and as you told her about it in a rush to get ready she was left stunned on her lumpy mattress.

"Y/N/N," she whined, "I had a movie set up, and all the junk food in the world for us!"

Wanda was missing you like crazy as of late, you'd been neglecting her insatiable need for you without intending to as midterm season set in. Nearly every day now you'd stumble in a little after midnight truly exhausted, and she'd have to watch you slump into your bed with hardly a mumble of good night before snores filled the dreadfully boring room, she hated it.

She hated the way you overworked yourself, but she found she hated this much more. Val knew, hell, majority of the campus knew you were logistically unspoken for, but you were not, you were Wanda's. "I love you Wands, but I am not skipping a date for the Barbie movie."

"I'll have you know this is part of a feminist movement!" She gasped as she threw a pack of little bites at your head, it was her last chance to reel you in, but it failed as you set it back on her tray of snacks. You offered her a sad smile, "I'll be back around 12am if I don't get lucky, if that's the case we can gorge out and watch it."

Wanda watched you leave with a scowl, you most certainly wouldn't be getting lucky tonight if she had anything to do with it, there's not a chance in hell someone else gets to have you when you fit so perfectly in her arms.

—

Wanda didn't have much to worry about it turned out, as not even fifteen minutes into the party did you find yourself all alone. Nobody paid you any mind as they brushed by, except for the few sleazy guys sizing you up, probably determining if you'd give it up or were a prude.

After a few more moments of solitude you left the table of drinks Valkyrie left you at, and awkwardly went in search of her only to find out Yelena was right. Valkyrie wasn't to be trusted, and you learned that as you witnessed her tongue down the throat of an innocent bystander, Darcy Lewis, while sat in the lap of her smirking ex girlfriend Carol Danvers lap.

"Um, can you tell me where you left my coat?"

Valkyrie turned to you with a dazed expression, clearly she held no regrets. But it just as soon morphed into one of terror at the unconsidered realization when she'd asked you out, the idea of Yelena finding out was a tad worrisome.

Val had every intention of showing you a good time, then she saw Carol flirting with Darcy and left you at the table in a jealous rage.

"Y/N, I," she lazily began to defend herself as she clamored off her tumultuous lovers lap, and you watched with pity as the science nerd from your Wednesday course scrambled off.

"Save it Valkyrie, I knew you were a sleaze, but I needed the distraction so I accepted the date," you spat, "What a shame I didn't get any head."

"There's still time," Carol offered, chuckling softly to herself when you only flipped her off.

"Please, don't tell Yelena," she tried to appeal to you, she knew from high school experience that you were the more gentle of your sisters.

You snorted, "We both know it doesn't matter, she always finds out, you're already doomed."

"You have to have some pull," Carol tried, she appeared calm, but you could see the sweat on her brows. "Cute, how much of a pushover do you take me to be Danvers? I'll let her find out, and I'll make sure to cry really good for her."

Before the jocks could catch you by the arm to try and plead their case you'd slipped through the crowd of sweaty bodies, and out the front door. Aimless as you were the day you were born as you quickly left the fraternity house.

You sniffled as you walked across the dimly lit football field of your campus, an after effect of streaming tears that had since dried up under the influence of the brisk winter wind. Dread filled you at the prospect of going home, you knew that if you went to Mama Melina's your sisters would be at the frat house in seconds.

That made you grimace just at the thought, sure they hurt you, however your heart will mend in due time, but you fear that if your sisters got to the jocks their bones wouldn't.

You also knew that if you returned to your dorm before two am, the one you share with your sometimes lover, she'd still be awake. Then she would be doing much of the same.

Neither option suited your fancy, so after you used the sleeve of your worn down hoodie to wipe at your raw to the touch nose you pulled out your phone to try for Kate. But as if fate had a funny way of working its magic you met not only the aforementioned woman, but also the grassy ground as you tumbled over her.

"Sestra, what's happened? Why are you crying? Why are you out wandering all alone this late?! Do you have no sense of safety? Hello??"

Great, Yelena was here too, you found out as she now hovered over you. It was hard to make out her features as her curled hair shielded her face from the stadium lights, but you could see her bright eyes full of concern. "I-I," you tried to give her some excuse, but when you saw her pouting down at you empathetically you lost your resolve; the shifty dam broke once more.

Yelena looked to Kate in a panic, the archer jumped into gear when she heard your sobs. The couple rearranged you so that Yelena could sit down and hold you tightly from behind, one of the few fond memories you held close to your heart from your time in the orphanage.

Kate sat down beside you two, settling down to the left of your bodies. Ever the prepared one she had reached into her bag and pulled out some tissues, water, and some chewing gum.

After you practically melted into your sister, you felt Kate dabbing away the tears and snot that now dripped down your face, and neck. The embarrassment you felt was immense, but as if she knew—she always did, she shushed you like a mother hen does her hoard of chicks.

"Shhh honey, it's okay, trust me, I've dealt with so much worse when your little sister is sick," Kate coo'd softly with a silly smirk following her words, and to both of the women's delight you giggled hoarsely.

"I'm not little."

Your sisters serious grumbling from behind you caused you to cackle brokenly, as funny as she was your throat was far too parched to produce the proper sounds. Kate took that as her sign to lift the bottle to your lips, and you gulped it down appreciatively, and so she tilted it with you to ensure you got every last dribble.

"All better?" Yelena asked concernedly from behind to which you nodded while smiling at her girlfriend who extended you a piece of gum, "Can you tell us what happened sestra?"

Kate sent her lover a glare as she watched your lip wobble again, tears once again brimmed, and you spun in your sisters arms to try and offer her an explanation, but she could see by the guilty look in your eyes you'd broken rules.

"Who did it?" her voice was level, there was a lilt of danger to it though, and you shivered.

You nearly said Wanda, because though it was Valkyrie who set you off tonight, it was Wanda that you saw with every intrusive thought.

"Valkyrie," you hiccup, "a-and Carol."

"Ya ub'yu ikh," the blonde growled, her arms now significantly tighter around you. "Net."

(I will kill them / No)

"What do you mean no? They knew better!"

"So did I," you remind her with a heavy sigh, "You warned me, and I still accepted the date."

Yelena didn't plan on fully letting this go, but for the sake of your happiness she dropped it for now and with the help of Kate she got you back on your feet, "Where were you going?"

You shrugged, and the blonde was perplexed. This obviously wasn't the way to your dorm, she once again brushed passed the unknown though, and instead she pulled you in close to keep you warm, "We'll go to mama's then, I know how much you have missed Natasha."

"Okay," you smiled softly as you agreed with her, Natasha only just returned from her tour in Germany, and you were all going home next weekend to see her, but sooner sounded better.

You quietly walked in the middle of the couple, both of them holding your hand in a protective manner that made you feel so warm that the frigid cold air stopped bothering you as much.

Natasha was posted at the front door, her arms opened a mile away and you sprinted up the driveway until you were sobbing into her chest.

"What am I? Chopped liver?" Yelena groaned, but she smiled at your older sister who nodded to her that she was safe to take Kate to bed.

Their plans of partying long over, and as Kate had always wanted, they were cuddled up watching cheap reality television while you were right next door in Natasha's bed.

"Wanna talk about it krolick?" You nodded against her arm, moving to sit up so you could properly look at her as you poured your heart out. "I just want someone to love me Natty."

Natasha instantly frowned. "Lena, Mama, Kate, Wanda, and I all love you Y/N. Like, a lot!"

You wanted to scoff, to tell your sister that the only reason this mess exists is because the one person you wish loved you didn't. The same one she listed off, but that wasn't fair to the redhead who was just trying to comfort you.

"I know you guys do Natty, but I want more."

"Well, there's no rush on that," Natasha tried to reason with you. "Love takes time, and I think college frat parties are the worst place to go looking for the real thing. Let it find you."

"That's easy enough for you to say Nat," you sighed. "Lena has Kate, and you found Maria. There's always been someone waiting for you guys, I've never had that, nobody wants me."

"That isn't true Y/N, you're wanted."

"By my family, sure." You grimaced at the thought of seeming so pathetic. "When does someone want me for more than sex? When am I someones person to come home to, huh? To tell about their day? To miss? To love!!!"

"I don't know Y/N," Natasha confessed as she shrugged, then she pulled you back down onto her bed, and you instinctively tucked into her warm side. She smiled with the offer of hope as she went on, "All I do know is that they'll find you when it's the right time. Not everyone falls in love in their twenties, and that's okay."

"I sure hope you're right Natty, because I'm tired of longing for someone who'll never want me the same way that I've always wanted her."

The redhead's brows furrowed, but you were gone before she could seek clarity. As far as she'd been concerned this was the first attempt on the dating scene since Riley Thompson, that retched strawberry blonde from your first year. She knows that's a foolish train of thought, but still, it also makes no sense for you to be this torn up over Valkyrie, who'd been a grade A douche ever since she won the puberty lottery.

Once she knew you were out, in true protective big sister (by three months) fashion, she found a way to make it better as she called the uni cops on the jocks. Mutual friends of yours on social media began to post snippets of flashing lights and she beamed at the mess she made.

If she couldn't knock their lights out she'd introduce them to an array of red and blue.

Feeling content with the situation she settled her phone down, along with her glasses before clapping to get the bedside lamp to turn off.

"Goodnight krolick," she whispered, the sweet release of sleep had nearly consumed her too, but then a loud knocking came from the front door and she figured it was the jocks with silly plans of retaliation. So she gently left your side, grabbed her high tech taser batons she built in high school, then swung the front door open.

"Wanda?" Natasha stepped out into the cold winter night with a deep scowl at the sight of her distraught friend, "Why are you here knocking so loudly at three in the morning?"

"Where is she Nat? She didn't come home, then she left me on delivered, an-and I-I saw the." Wanda paused suddenly as she tried to refrain from leaving and punching the jocks again. Natasha saw the way her bruising hands reflexively fisted, and she knew what'd likely happened here. "You know what happened?"

Wanda nods, "Yeah, and I handled them."

"You could lose your scholarship Wanda," Natasha scolds the girl halfheartedly, she knew that you'd say the same, so she mentioned it.

"I couldn't give a fuck less Natasha."

Natasha nodded in understanding, she too was one sob of yours away from knocking their teeth in, but she couldn't risk losing her job.

"I need to see her, please," Wanda grabbed her best friends shoulders in a panic, their eyes met and in a flash Natasha saw the secrets unfolding, and for a moment she felt betrayed.

Why would you both keep this a secret?

Then she saw the love the woman held for you, and part of her wonders if your groveling over heartache was rooted in your clearly hidden relationship with the brunette more so than it had been any of Valkyrie and Carol's doing.

Natasha was about to speak, to deny her access to you, at least for tonight in her frazzled state, because you didn't need anymore grief tonight. She however didn't get the chance as the front door opened and cast a light upon her back. Your soft sniffles an indicator on who it was, and Wanda wasted no time shoving passed her to get to you. The sight of you so sad broke her, but she didn't give that away, you needed her.

So with shaky hands she cupped your cheeks, she continuously wiped away the tears that ran from an unending well, she smiled so softly at you that you momentarily forgot the audience.

It reminded you of all the times she'd held you as you cried in your dorm. When you were overwhelmed with your classes, and she'd spend the entire day trying to make it better. Cracking lame jokes, and holding you extra close just to hopefully make you smile.

So for a fleeting moment you leaned into her touch as you slipped into your delusional fantasy that this was more than sex, then you looked at your gobsmacked sister and took a step back as you remembered the harsh truth.

"What are you doing here Wanda?"

The question came off almost accusingly, as if she were a stranger, but she paid it no mind, you had every right to feel the way you did.

"I had to see you, I was worried sick detka," she rushed forward to bridge the gap, and wrapped her arms around you to hug you close to her, "You didn't come home, or answer my calls."

"It was late, and I didn't want to disturb you."

Wanda stiffened as you lied, you'd never lied to her before, and she can't understand why now.

"You could never disturb me Y/N, I promise you that much," she instantly moved to squash the intrusive thought that kept you away, "You should also know better than to lie to me."

"Wa—."

"No, I saw the party Y/N, I went through story after story looking for a sign of you, and I grew worried when there was none; after awhile I stumbled upon your date locking lips with that skank ex girlfriend of hers, your absence there made sense, but it didn't back at home. Why?"

"It was embarrassing, okay?" You practically shouted as you ripped yourself out of her hold, "My first date since Riley and I couldn't even manage to keep this dates attention either."

Wanda instantly frowned at your outburst, she desperately tried to reach for you but you held her away with a firm grip on her shoulders.

"Do you know what it's like Wanda?" You stared right into her soul, "To be the girl everyone is down to fuck, but never to love?"

Wanda's eyes filled with tears, because sure you were speaking in generalizations with Nat stood only a few paces away, but she knew you were speaking to her directly at this juncture.

"Who am I kidding, of course you don't," you shook your head with incredulous laughter, "When you walk in a room everyone's eyes are on you, they want a shot with you, they want to win your affection, and that's where we differ."

Your hold on her fell as you picked up the blanket to rewrap it around you, you were about to ask her to leave, loud enough so that Nat would make her, then your eyes fell to her clenched fists and you gasped, your face etched with concern, "Wanda, what did you do?"

"What needed to be done," she replied with a venom in her tone you were unfamiliar with, "Nobody hurts you without consequence."

The brunette lifted her gaze to send you a soft smile, but when you peered into her eyes all you saw was guilt. Something you now felt sorry for causing. "I'll see you back at home."

Wanda walked away too fast for you to even say anything, let alone stop her, but Natasha saw the panic steadily building in your gaze.

"How did you get here Wan?" Natasha asks as she gently placed a hand on her to stop her.

"I walked here," she shrugs the redhead off, and once again she tries to walk away, but Natasha grabs her shirt from behind and pulls her towards the house, "You'll have the couch."

Natasha lightly shoved Wanda passed the threshold, the animosity clear in her gesture, then she pulled your stunned form indoors and into her much warmer body for a brief hug, "Go back to bed krolick," she kissed your cheek, then silently ushered you up the stairs.

As soon as you were gone the redhead sat across from her best friend with a stern glare, "How long have you been fucking my sister?"

Wanda grimaced, it sounded so dirty when she said it like that, and you were anything but. Engaging with you sinfully was never a dirty experience, it was always a heartwarming one.

"Don't say it like that," she spat, and met her glare with one of her own, "It's not like that."

"How is it not?" Natasha pressed, "People don't let their girlfriend go on dates with other girls."

"She's not my girlfriend," Wanda's tone was much quieter now, she was clearly ashamed, and that was enough to settle Nat's worries.

"Fix this mess Wanda. You're my bestfriend, but Y/N is." Wanda cut her off, "Everything."

"Da," Natasha nodded as she stood, glad they could come to such an agreement. Nat quietly moved towards a chest near the stairs and pulled a blanket from it to give to the brunette, "Get some rest Wanda, tomorrow's a new day."

Natasha returned to her room, and upon seeing it empty of you she couldn't help but to smile. Of course you couldn't just wait for tomorrow.

You initially did return to her bed, but you were restless the more you thought about the way this night had played out. As much as you tried to remember your agreement, you could not shake the fact that Wanda was here for you. She walked here in the dead of night just to get to you, she recklessly paid no mind to her future's stability when she punched those girls, nor to her safety when she walked here alone.

The image of her busted hands is what made you leave the comfort of your sister's bed as you went to collect the first aid kit, and once you heard Natasha's door close you descended to make your way to the living room. With a cautious step you entered to see Wanda with her eyes closed, but you knew she was awake. You'd spent too many mornings trapped in her arms to not know when she's merely resting.

"Wands," you lightly brushed your fingers over the arm that now laid over her closed eyes, "You need to sit up for me." She slid her arm up so that she could peak up at you, "Why?"

You sighed through your nose as you held up the kit, she softened her eyes, but she didn't move, she felt too undeserving, "I'm okay Y/N, you should go to sleep, you must be tired."

"I'm not," you relayed a half truth, because you were truly exhausted, but you couldn't sleep, not with her hurting just a floor below you.

When Wanda realized you weren't going to give up she sat up, pulling her legs to her chest in a protective position and you settled down next to her and began to unpack what you needed.

After her hands were disinfected and wrapped you looked into her eyes, and momentarily melted. Then, under the dim lighting in the living room you finally noticed Wanda's busted lip, and the deep cut overlaying her eyebrow.

It infuriated you to think that they'd retaliated so brutally, "They look worse detka," Wanda cockily muttered, her green eyes had yet to leave your face, so she easily read your troubled thoughts. You rolled your eyes at the sight of her smug, ego inflating smile.

"Doesn't help," you grumbled, with a clenched jaw you reached up to trace a soaked gauze pad over her brow, her eyes fluttered shut, and your heart broke further at the soft breath she sucked between her teeth. She was trying to downplay the hurt, but it wasn't working.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, and her eyes shot open within an instant. It was easy enough to believe you meant it over the first aid, but she knew you well enough to know it went deeper.

"Don't," she warned, "You have no reason to be. I never should've let you go out with her."

"Wanda," you sighed softly, "I'm not yours."

Her lip wobbled as you spoke the truth, it was her biggest regret to date. "Do you want to be?"

"Goodnight Wanda," you easily deflected, standing up to retreat, you suddenly felt overexposed under her gaze, but she rounded the couch and blocked you from leaving. Far too desperate to let you just slip away again.

"Y/N," she pleaded, "Don't run, I'm begging."

"Wanda please move, I'm tired."

"You just said you weren't," she challenged, and you whined in frustration, "Now I am."

"Y/N.."

"People can change their minds Wanda," you spat while brushing passed her, as guilty as you felt over her physical state, you weren't going to just give her a pass for her transgressions.

"Yeah, I know, that's what I'm trying to do."

"Until the next pretty girl traipses passed you in a skirt at a party, then you'll go fuck her."

"No," Wanda rejected, dulled eyes now glazed over, it's true what they say, the truth hurts.

You scoffed, "Oh, sorry, does she fuck you?"

Wanda looked up at you in disbelief, you were getting bold here, and as much as she deserved it that one especially hurt. Because the truth was no, she never let anyone but you touch her.

"Of course not, Y/N, I-I," she tried to tell you, but it was proving hard. Vulnerability wasn't exactly her strong suit, not romantically that is.

"I can't do it anymore Wands," you admitted, the fury in your tone replaced with exhaustion.

"Wait, what are you saying?"

"I talked to Mama, she said I can move back in, my old room is still the same," you smiled at her sadly, "I think this is best for us both."

"No," she was now clinging to your shirt, you saw the way she winced while gripping your shirt and it hurt you to see her so broken. It was all your doing, she was truly better off.

"I love you," the words flew out of her mouth desperately, she clung to you even harder, and continued to whisper the hypnotizing words.

"Wanda, I love you too, but—."

"No, I mean it in the sickening way in which I wake up before our alarms go off just to watch you sleep," she rushed the words out in a panic, failing to see the slight twitch at the corner of your lips. "An-and sometimes I want to dance with you in the middle of the street, like after one of Lena's games because you just always look so damn pretty under the street lights."

You cut her off with a kiss, it was fleeting, and earned you whimpers of disappointment as you pulled away, "Do you mean it Wanda? This isn't just some weird way to get me to stay?"

She instantly shook her head, "I've never meant anything like I do this Y/N, I want you."

"Ask me again." Your lips ghosted dangerously over hers, teasing her with the possibility for more if she'd just speak her heart. "Marry me?"

"Woah, Wanda chill," you cackled in a whisper, "You're skipping like so many of the steps."

The brunette smirked at you, "Why play by the fixed rules when I know how it ends detka?"

"Oh, so you are a fortune teller now?" She nodded. "Yeah, let me tell you how this goes." Her smile was wicked as she lowered her tone, "Tonight, you're going to take me to bed, and hopefully you'll make the wedding bells ring."

Wanda squealed quietly when you lunged forward and attached your lips to hers. Convenience was on your side tonight as you walked Wanda back until she met a door, you opened it with ease, and she stumbled as she lost the support of the wood as you pushed her passed the threshold and onto your mattress.

Wanda giggled maniacally, effectively breaking the kiss. "What's so funny?" You questioned with a smirk as you stared down at her, you very much understood her amused expression.

"Barney is staring into my soul," she mused, truth be told the idea of you making love to her in your childhood room wasn't a fantasy she ever indulged in back in high school, but it was one she repeatedly had, especially after one of your softball games. It always got her heated.

"He'd approve," you reasoned and she quirked a brow at you, "What? I love you, and you love me, and that's like his entire monologue."

She slapped your shoulder and gasped, "Y/N!"

"Shall I stop then?" You began to lift off of her but she shook her head in the negatory so fast you moved your lips to the soft skin of her neck instead. "Good, because I didn't want to."

"Never do," she whimpered, her body shaking with excitement as you lightly touched her.

Wanda was wearing a zip up jacket, as you marked up the sensitive skin of her throat your hand wandered up to the zipper. She clasped her hand over yours in a pleading manner, her not so subtle attempt to urge you on quicker. She guided your hand down, unzipping the grey jacket that you now recognize to be your own only to reveal her bare chest to you.

A wave of arousal surged through you seeing that she wore nothing beneath your jacket. "Fucking hell Wanda," you groaned a moment later as you removed a pair of your sweats to find the same reality. You realize now that she must've been waiting for you to return to your dorm in only one of her many oversized shirts.

You chuckled, "Oh you are such a fucking slut." Wanda whimpered affectedly, you always knew just how to get the brunette going with your taunts, as well as your touches. She squirmed as you focused in on her breasts with your mouth. Swirling your hot tongue around the cooled metal that pierced through her extremely sensitive nubs, all while your hands were feather light as they roamed her body.

"Please," Wanda hadn't even been a prisoner to your teasing touches for a minute before she was canting her hips up and begging for more. "I need you detka, please! No one else can touch me like you do Y/N... Only you..."

Wanda smiled insecurely as you stared at her a bit dumbfounded. The answer to your question was in her glistening eyes, she's being honest.

A new wave of pride surged through your chest at the knowledge. Something almost feral took over your mind at the idea that only you've had Wanda beneath you. Nobody else will ever get to see her like this, a total beauty to marvel at with her hair splayed across the sheets as she desperately sought your touch. They'll never know what it's like to kiss her breathless, or to taste her divined nectar, or get to masterfully bring her over that edge of bliss like you do.

Wanda's body trembled with delight as you sloppily kissed down it, you were moving at a speed she wasn't accustomed to. Normally you were slow, and teasing, but it was as if a switch went off and you lost control of your urges.

You stopped just as you reached her cunt, hot breaths fanning over her mound from your nose after each stuttered inhale you took in. Saliva slowly accumulated in your mouth as you breathed her aromatic arousal in. It was like second nature the way you moved, surging forward and licking up her juices, trailing your tongue up the entirety of her slit with a moan.

You used your tongue to part her folds, exposing her stuttering entrance to you, it amused you to no end to see her this desperate.

Wanda Maximoff, the campuses notoriously known player has fallen for you. Even with her endless supply of girls to fuck she chose you. It doesn't sound all that romantic to an outsider, but to you, someone who knew Wanda wholly, you knew this was the best possible outcome.

Thoughts tumbled around your head as you worked out what to do next, you took a deep breath, and upon release you bit your lip as Wanda's back arched at the cool sensation.

"Y/N, detka, please stop teasing me..."

After a brief moment of silence you shocked her as you entered her with three fingers, there was no resistance either as she was slicked up.

Wanda rocked her hips in unison with your fingers thrusts, she was dripping down your palm in only a matter of seconds. Had you not had her feeling so euphoric she might've even been embarrassed, but she admittedly wasn't.

All she felt was bliss, and she expressed as such when she screamed your name aloud as you sucked her clit between your lips. You began softly nibbling the bundle of raging nerves to urge her release on. Wanda absolutely lost her mind, frantically thrusting off the bed to meet your fingers, which is something you'd usually control with a hand on her hip, but tonight you felt generous, her desperation was welcomed.

Her slick smeared across your lower face as you continued to shower her clit with attention as your fingers pace picked up. Wanda's tears and drool soaked through your pillowcases as she lost herself to the building pleasure inside.

"Is my precious little slut close?" You asked the question, but with the way her walls gripped you into a state of near stillness was already enough of an answer. Still, you wanted her reply, but she was a bit too lost in the pleasure so you slapped her thigh. "Answer me slut!"

Wanda mewled shakily, "Fuck, yes, 'm so close, please detka." You couldn't deny how much her breathless pleadings turned you on, it was so damn hot and you were consequently dripping.

"Go on then baby, let go for me like the whore we both know you are," you commanded this right above her clit, offering a subtle vibration that drove her up the wall. Her thighs tensed, and she gushed around your fingers as they curled within her just right, her back arched off the bed, and the two of you moaned in unison.

No amount of sex with Wanda would ever leave you bored, the sight of her with those hazy eyes and mouth agape as you continued to thrust into her was a sight worthy of the Louvre.

"You taste so good baby," At the sight of your glistening smirk, the brunette smiled wide, Wanda absolutely adored your cockier side.

"Come here please," she rasped, her hands lazily reached for you, and you obliged. Leaving love bites on her sweaty skin before you were kissing her languidly. Wanda sighed, "Perfect."

"Yeah?" You chuckled, effectively breaking the kiss to show her your amusement with a smile. Wanda nodded, her hands quickly fell to rest atop of your ass, and that's when she frowned.

So lost in the throes of pleasure she'd never gotten you out of your clothes. Her greatest joy is to feel your skin against hers, your warmth grounding her as she gives into pleasure, and it was taken away by her overtly needy nature.

"Take it off detka!" She commanded, her hands harshly gripped your ass cheeks, softly wincing as it caused her injured hands pain, but she ignored that ache because you moaned, she only continued to massage the covered skin.

"Now," the low, domineering grumble of her voice shook you, it felt like your wetness was seeping through your sleep shorts, and as you stood up you saw it did as her thigh glistened.

Wanda leaned up on her elbows, watching you with lust blown eyes as you hastily slid out of your bottoms. A raspy cackle came from her as you nearly fell flat on your face, "Careful love."

"Bite me," you grumbled as you slowly pulled the fabric from your body, in part because you wanted to tease her. “Oh sweetheart, I will.”

She threw her had back with laughter, her abs more defined as she tensed with each inhale. Your face was priceless, you might be topping right now, but she always had to remind you just how easily the script could be flipped.

Then she fell silent when she looked back at you, her chest rose unsteadily as the light of the moon casted over your bareness. Fuck, nobody would ever compare to you, you were the woman of her every fantasy. Her body and mind craved you in different ways, something that had never happened to her before you.

"Come on detka, I want to feel you up."

“Nope.” Wanda scowled as you told her she couldn't use her hands, you’d informed her of as you crawled up to hover her. She went to protest, but it died on her tongue as she felt your pert nipples brush over her hot skin. It became apparent that it didn't matter how she had you when she needed you this bad; more than a man stranded in a desert needed water.

"Then ride my face instead," she panted, clearly affected by the feel of your slicked cunt. She found herself feeling a bit too impatient to have to wait to have you another moment longer with your warmth all over her milky thigh.

She nearly melted into a puddle when she saw your concerned orbs staring into hers, "I don't want to hurt you Wan, maybe we wait for you to heal, and until then I'll tend to your needs."

"Y/N, I need you," she sternly stated, "I might combust if I can't taste you, please detka?!"

"Okay," you acquiesced easily, it wasn't like you weren't equally as desperate for the relief.

Wanda licked her lips once your cunt hovered over her mouth, as if she'd been served a five star Michelin meal. Traces of your slick befell her lips, and she breathed a sigh through her nose as she finally got a taste of you. In her expert opinion your divined essence exceeds such notorious perfection. Wagyu steak, and stuffed lobster could never compare here.

Now that you hovered over her you worried about her overall safety. This was like a godsend to the brunette, the one who's begged you for months to try this, but you always had an excuse. Primarily being the twin mattress.

You both always knew it was more than that, but you never had to voice that before. But as you knelt on your queen size mattress with the squeaky boxsprings you found you were still nervous. Riding her felt like an exhilarating idea, but you weren’t ever really one for an adrenaline rush. You liked to play it safe.

Wanda’s never been safe. You loved her for who she was, but who she was, was a mess. With that chaos though came new experiences. New, pleasure filled worlds. Taking your vanilla experience and leaving it in your past. Just to bring you to nirvana almost every night.

Obviously you could say no, but disappointing Wanda was the last thing you wanted to do. It also appeared disappointing to you as well.

You didn’t want to hurt her. You’d never forgive yourself. You knew she would.

"Don't be scared," she whispers against the skin of your tense thigh, "Just lower yourself onto my face and I'll make you feel so good." Wanda saw hesitation flicker in your eyes, and she smiled softly upwards. "Please detka."

Wanda sighed in defeat, "It's okay." She tapped your thigh tenderly, waving her metaphorical white flag so you didn't feel any pressure. That made you panic though, "No, I-I can do it."

"Only if you want to," Wanda reaffirmed. "I'd love for you to ride my face, using me for your pleasure, but I can eat you regardless. I'd never want you to do something you didn't want to." She looked deeply into your curious eyes, her honest disposition settled most of the doubt.

"I do want to," you whimpered, "Just, promise me you'll tell me if I'm too much, I—."

"None of that," Wanda tutted, "You'll never be too much of anything detka." Her arms looped around your thighs, and she grinned. "God, you smell so delicious," she groaned as the scent of your arousal increased as she tugged you down.

"Feel free to suffocate me darling," she teased with an attractive wink before she pulled you down the rest of the way and plunged her tongue right on in to your pulsing heat.

Wanda was dripping unendingly onto the mattress as you moaned, and took over almost instantly. She wanted to be in control, but she was far too thrilled to see your fears had faded with the pleasure she offered you to take it.

With every hurried thrust of your hips the tip of Wanda's nose would brush your clit, and you'd mewl, she felt like she was in a porno. It became apparent you were close, handling Wanda earlier had left you teetering. Your hips would still at random now, usually spurred on by a swish of her tongue. Her expertise left you immobilized by a blinding pleasure, it pooled low in your abdomen, you were at the edge.

Wanda's tongue slid from within you, she ran it up your slit, flicking over your clit teasingly. You pressed down, hopeful for more relief, and the brunette appeased you with a hum. The vibration sending you crashing into your orgasm hard. You'd instantly lost your balance, falling into the oak headboard with a deep moan as your slick trickled down her throat.

A deep growl of dissatisfaction left your lovers lips as you fell beside her on the mattress. She wasn't done with you, not even in the slightest. However, she knew neither of your bodies had much left to give after such a draining day.

Still, she found the strength to hold herself up with an elbow on either side of your head. You were so lost in the haze of your afterglow that you couldn’t even hear her. You saw a blurry mouth moving, but didn’t come to until you felt her barely pressing her pelvis into yours.

Wanda pleaded with crazy eyes, “Fuck, detka, can I try something?" You blinked up at her, trying to see through your bleary eyes as you were definitely still coming back down. "I just," she paused, unable to stop herself from kissing the pout that formed on your face. "I know you're tired, but can I rub our pussies together, please? I’ll be quick" Her eyes darkened as she saw the flicker of desire return to your eyes.

"Yes." Wanda smirked. "Such a smart girl, this will feel so damn good, I promise you detka."

Wanda pressed her cunt into yours with more force, you watched her mouth fall agape with rapt attention. She always looked so gorgeous when she was coming close. It turned you on to think that this had been a fantasy of hers. Just like the one you’d had floating in your mind.

“Shit,” you breathed, “Mommy please…”

Wanda’s hips stuttered, “Fuck,” she felt a gush of wetness on her thighs, your Freudian slip aroused her beyond normalcy. “You’re such a good girl,” she coo’d, “Letting your mommy use you likes this.” She sighed, “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you mommy,” you beamed, genuinely flattered at her tenderness. You’d barely got the words out before her lips slammed into yours.

With her tongue down your throat you went mindless. Hips moving on autopilot against your lovers as you got closer to bliss. Wanda was meeting you with the same fervor. Her lips had moved to your throat now as she’d needed something to bite, her teeth sunk into the juncture between your throat and collarbone.

“Need to cum,” you choked out, “Mommy you feel so good, please, can I cum for you?”

Wanda’s breath hitched, she wasn’t used to it yet, but fuck, it was growing on her fast.

“Go on, be a good girl and cum with me,” she groaned, the vibration against your throat made you feel exponentially dizzy. “Mommy!”

“Oh shit,” she brokenly sobbed, “Mommy’s good girl,” her lips laid a trembling kiss over the bruising juncture, “So fucking beautiful…”

“Don’t stop,” you cried. She wheezed, “I won’t.”

The both of you cried from the overstimulation, but neither of you stopped as you lazily spread your wetnesses around. Wanda’s hot tongue soothed your new indents, the taste of copper telling her just how deeply she’d claimed you.

Her lips softened their intent, gentle kisses being left behind on your face. Feeling as your cheek shook beneath her lips as you tried to stifle a laugh. Then you lost your resolved and giggled as she continued subtly tickling you.

Wanda loved your laugh, so she kept it up for a few minutes before her tired arms gave out. Her body collapsed into yours, and she just spent the next five minutes breathing heavily against your neck. Her hair boxing her in, and leaving behind a sparing layer of condensation.

With your eyes closed, and body still you began to drift into a state of mid-sleep. Then you felt a not so gentle tug of your skin between teeth.

Your girlfriend was insatiable… Girlfriend?

Wanda leaned back up with reinvigorated strength. Her wrapped hand lay awkwardly against your throat as she began to ramble, “As soon as these bruises yellow I'm grabbing you by the throat and fucking you against the wall of our dorm." Her eyes were wild with lust, there was no doubt that she was being honest. "Gotta consummate the fact that you're mine."

You’re sure that confirms you’re girlfriends.

Your heart fluttered joyously. She was yours.

Arousal that lingered in your belly pulsated as her eyes filled with possession. You are hers. All she wants is to claim you wholly. "If I wasn't so tired I'd slip the harness on now and fuck you dumb." You felt your pussy throb, body lightly writhing and catching her attention as it jolted her numb pussy back to life. She was considering powering through, then she turned to check the time and saw the morning sun was filtering through the sides of the curtains.

Distorted, bright red lines flashed: 6:00AM.

On a Monday, both of your busiest school day.

Wanda chuckled tiredly against your shoulder, “This is why you don’t party on Sunday’s silly girl.” She turned back to face you after seeing the time. "Mr. Coulson is going to throw a fit."

"Oh shit, I can't miss another Biology lecture," you groaned in realization and the beauty on your chest laughed shortly. "Mrs. Potts will understand detka, I was her TA last semester, and I'll just tell her that I gave you the flu."

"Dishonesty is grounds for expulsion Wanda."

Wanda snorted, "Then let's hope we don't get caught." You frowned further, hand holding her wrapped one. "What if they tell on you?"

"They won't," she murmured with confidence. "They got their licks in too, if anything, the assholes probably found the fight arousing."

"I sure did," you breathlessly say, regretting it just as soon as her smirking face hovers yours, warm lips pressed into yours gently, starkly contradicting her tongues electrifying touch.

The kiss ends with a soft pop, Wanda gazes at you with sparkling eyes, and an adoring smile.

"You still shouldn't have done it," you remind her, and she merely shakes her head. "Listen close Y/N. I will never let anyone disrespect what I hold dear to my heart. Defending you against creeps is the easiest decision ever."

"Our future depends upon you graduating."

Wanda beams at your words. "Is this you accepting my proposal?" You giggled softly when her face fell as you shook your head.

"Conditionally," you decide. "If you want to marry me, then you have to show me that you're serious about our future. Less partying, no more other people, and no more violence."

Wanda sighs with perceptible conviction, "I promise you Y/N, there's no way in hell I'm ever watching you leave. We're endgame." Then after she watches understanding flash through your gaze she kisses your lips once more before burrowing into your chest.

"I'm all in then." Wanda's body relaxed as you followed your words with a kiss to her cheek.

Then in a blink she was fast asleep.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, drooping eyes trained on Wanda's beautiful face your phone dinged, and you picked it up, only to see your group chat with your sisters was active.

*Natasha, make it stop! My ears are bleeding*

*Yelena, turn on some music like I did every time you and Kate did this in HS and sleep.*

*You're lucky Mama's out of town,* Natasha wrote, directed at you, *Good problem solving skills, glad you're learning something in school, but please, leave sex for your dorm.*

*Tell Wanda to sleep with one eye open!*

Yelena's message wasn't as cordial, it was a clear threat, and enough to make you snort. Somehow Wanda remained asleep, soft snores blowing across your chest a direct reassurance.

You were thankful for that, the poor girl was wiped, and didn't need the embarrassment, you'd save that for the awkward breakfast.

*I love you guys. I’ll buy donuts, okay, bye.*

*2 dozen! Mostly maple bars, obviously! 👀*

*We love you too. (Cherry danish please) ❤️*

You smiled, shaking your head free of any surges of embarrassment. For now you’d decided to close your eyes, forget all the noise, and slip into a world of endless possibilities.

Snoring in tandem with your girlfriend.

Wanda Maximoff was your girlfriend.

If only teenage you could see you now. She’d be so excited, she’d likely faint. Then wake up hours later concussed, wearing a dopy smile with a thumbs up. You finally took the risk.

It paid off—you won the lottery.

——

[splattynatty1984]

Natasha pulling you away from the party…

Your hands scramble to find anything to hold on to against the cold wall. You hadn’t expected to be in this situation, but really, you should’ve.

“Fucking dragging me in, malen'kaya shlyushka.” Natasha’s voice is mixed with her panting into your ear, rough and quick. She knows she only has a few minutes with you before you both have to go back to the party. She’s making the most of them. The degradation—little slut—hits where it normally does, somewhere deep in you, but somehow it’s more arousing than normal, pulling you closer and closer to an orgasm. Perhaps it’s because there are people right outside the storage closet you’re getting fucked in. You can hear them discussing the music playing, can clearly make out one man’s distaste for Taylor Swift.

“Nat—please—fuck—“ You moan and try to hold the orgasm back, rising up on your toes. From behind you, Natasha chuckles and bites down on your shoulder, her hips continuing to pound the strap deeper into you.

“Shh, baby,” she growls, one hand holding your hip and the other twisting one of your nipples. “Don’t let people hear you. I’ll leave you desperate and stretched open, won’t even fuck you properly later.”

The threat is enough. You bite your lip hard enough to taste copper, but it’s the only thing stopping you from screaming out as you cum. Your vision goes white for a moment, and you’re barely able to hear Natasha’s moans as she cums as well because of the ringing that floods your ears.

“Good girl. Such a good girl. Fuck, you’re so good for me.” Natasha sounds as wrecked as you feel, especially as she pulls out of you and tugs her pants back up. Your dress is pulled back down and into place right after, and just as you’re catching your breath, Natasha grabs your hips again and turns you to face her, catching your lips in a kiss. It’s just as full of want as you’ve both been for the last six minutes, but there’s a softer quality to it, something like a silent thanks.

When she finally pulls away from the kiss, Natasha brushes your hair out of your face, smiling at you like she hadn’t just fucked you thoroughly in record time with people right outside.

“Just needed to remind you who that pussy belongs to.”

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Ghost (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Summary: sometimes ghosts never truly leave you.

Words: 351

Warnings: major character death implied, smut, angst

A/N: Sad smut is my jam.

-X-

Kneeling in the center of bed, Wanda’s right hand slowly trailed over her throat while its twin skimmed her belly, inching closer to damp curls. Her eyes closed, breathing stuttering when her hands were replaced with yours. Your hand cupped her mound and a broken little whine escaped her parted lips, head tipping back.

Your fingers were colder than normal, but she didn’t mind. All that mattered was your hands on her body — one gripping just below her jaw, the other beginning to explore her folds.

“Please, detka…” she whispered, eyes clamped shut like she’d shatter if she dared to open them.

“Shhh.” Your breath ghosted over her cheek as two fingers dipped into her cunt, crooking in that familiar way that drove her mad.

She was panting, grinding her hips into every thrust and curl of your fingers, the thinnest string of spit leaking from the corner of her mouth. Your thumb found her swollen clit, massaging it in a circle-eight as your hand sped up.

“You feel so fucking good, baby. I’ve missed you,” you murmured into her ear, the tips of your fingers finding that perfect, sweet spot inside her pussy.

A stray tear fell from the corner of her eye, but she couldn’t respond, too lost in the feeling of your touch. Hips jerking erratically as she chased the sensations.

“That’s it, princess. Cum for me.”

The words were so fucking soft, almost lost beneath the sound of her moans as her body locked up, shuddering as her cunt clenched around the fingers buried inside. Her hips jumped forward, once, twice, before she slumped backward in exhaustion —

Her back landing softly on the sheets of her bed, her own hand still trapped between her thighs.

As the tears finally began to fall, the sounds that filled the room were no longer ones of pleasure. These were a dam breaking open.

“…please, come back,” she whispered up to the ceiling, eyes refusing to open. Because if she opened them, she’d have to accept the truth. “I miss you.”

And the truth was something she couldn’t handle.

Not tonight.

[toysandmoretoys]

[isthatmyjacket-rhiyo]

Wanda knows exactly what she's doing

[sapphicsleepywriter]

i would hate you if i could

ᥫ᭡wanda maximoff x reader

ᥫ᭡summary: Every night since the breakup, Wanda has found her way back to you through your dreams. You just don’t realize she’s been doing it on purpose

ᥫ᭡content: angst; hurt/comfort; post-breakup depression; mutual pining; Wanda manipulating reader’s dreams; a natasha cameo; reconciliation; idiots (still) in love; not proofread; around 3k words

ᥫ᭡a/n: i feel bad for how long this request has been sitting in my inbox, but i’ve FINALLY managed to breathe life into it ❤️‍🩹 enjoy

ᥫ᭡masterlist

You’re dreaming of Wanda again.

Standing in the middle of an empty field beneath a pale pink sky, with the grass brushing against your ankles and warm wind hitting your skin, Wanda stands several feet in front of you. Neither one of you have broken the silence yet, but the expression on her face makes your chest ache. You wondered when your subconscious would stop torturing you like this.

The silence continues to stretch, and just when you think you’re the one that’s going to have to break it, Wanda smiles, and suddenly, she’s close. Her fingers brush yours and her touch is so soft, so familiar, and so achingly realistic from the calluses on her palms to the warmth of her skin.

You lift your hand to her cheek and her breath hitches just for a moment before she leans into your touch. Soft wind blows around you, amplifying Wanda’s addicting cherry blossom scent. Wanda looks up at you through her lashes and you swallow around the lump in your throat.

You press your other hand to Wanda’s other cheek, wanting to frame her face in your hands. But suddenly, your sense of touch has grown weaker and she doesn’t feel real.

Tears prick your eyes and the wetness of Wanda’s eyes mirror yours.

“Wanda…” you manage around the thickness of your throat. “Why can’t I…why can’t I feel you?”

Wanda shakes her head and a single tear slips down her left cheek, gleaming in the setting sunlight. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“Sorry? For what? Why—“ but you cut off as the field begins to dissolve around you. Colors blur. The sky melts. Wanda’s eyes flash red and then everything goes dark.

And then, you wake up. Bolt awake is more like it as you sit up quickly in your bed, gasping for breath. The room comes into focus slowly. Morning light spills through your blinds. Your heart is still pounding against your ribs. For several seconds, you just stare into the middle distance, trying to get your breath back to normal.

You try to shake off the remnants of your last dream, but the waking world isn’t much better. Your bedroom feels charged, staticky, like the air before an impending thunderstorm. A faint prickling sensation still dances across your skin.

You rub a hand down your face and groan. Another incredibly vivid dream to add to the tally. Since your breakup with the other woman three months prior, it seemed to be the only thing you were dreaming about, and to say it was driving you crazy would be an understatement.

They’ve become impossible to ignore, the dreams. Sometimes, they’re simple: you and Wanda merely standing across from one another, a silent standoff. Other nights, they’re far worse. Wanda crying, collapsing into your arms, begging you not to leave her, begging you to forgive her. Dreams so vivid that they leave you emotionally exhausted for your entire day.

You sigh heavily. Your apartment was quiet except for the ticking of the analog clock on your wall. You hated that silence. It was times like these that you wish you’d insisted on Glitch staying with you. Glitch was the calico that you and Wanda had adopted together soon after your one-year anniversary. Glitch had immediately stood out to you because of his heterochromia—one gray eye and one brown eye.

Wanda has sort of gotten custody of Glitch in the breakup. You figured it was for the best since you were actually just the slightest bit allergic to the little guy. But man, what you wouldn’t give for Glitch’s company right about now.

Dragging yourself from your bed, you pad down the hallway toward your kitchen, your stomach growling the entire way. The moment you open your refrigerator, you groan. There wasn’t much in the way of sustenance aside from half a carton of milk and one container of meatballs that have probably since gone bad. Fantastic.

The pantry isn’t much better: a single pack of ramen and what’s left of a family size bag of tortilla chips (that might’ve been your salty snack of choice when your breakup was fresh). You stare at your shelves, then at your reflection in the microwave, and once again back at your shelves. You hadn’t intended to leave the house today, but a grocery errand would need to be made soon unless you wanted to starve. With a sigh, you head back to your room to grab your keys.

***

The grocery store is packed, which you suppose you should’ve anticipated for a Saturday morning. You maneuver your cart through the store, avoiding the cereal aisle altogether where three young children are wreaking havoc with their parents or guardians nowhere insight. You remember just how much you hate grocery shopping, and grocery stores in general. And with a pang, you realize that Wanda used to do the shopping. Not because she had to, but because she genuinely liked it, and she knew you dreaded it.

You remember the detailed lists she used to make, the snacks and foods that she knew to be your favorites always at the top of the list. You shove the thought away and head toward the pasta aisle. But then, you freeze, your heart stuttering painfully in your chest. There, standing halfway down the aisle, was the very woman who’d been haunting all your dreams. Wanda.

For one terrifying second, you think you must be dreaming again. As if sensing your stare, Wanda looks up, and her gaze zeroes on you. That look. The same one she’d given you in last night’s dream. You swallow hard, your pulse roaring in your ears. You have every inclination of ditching your cart altogether and making a break for it. But you can’t move your feet.

You see Wanda’s lips part, as if maybe she wants to say something. But then, a man pushes a shopping cart between you. The interruption lasts maybe two seconds, three at most. But after he passes, Wanda is gone.

You blink, turning a full 360, glimpsing your surroundings for any sign of the auburn-haired woman. But there’s no sign of her. Just more strangers everywhere you look.

A small, disbelieving laugh escapes you. “Okay,” you say to yourself. “So, there is a very real possibility that I’m losing my fucking mind,” Maybe dreaming about your ex-girlfriend every night has officially broken your brain. Maybe you’d just seen Wanda in a random woman, and from her perspective, you were just some creep in Hello Kitty pajama pants staring her down and freaking her out. That would explain how quickly she disappeared. She’d probably never feel safe shopping here again, and it would be your fault. Whatever the answer is, it doesn’t stop your hands from trembling for the rest of your shopping trip.

By evening, you’re no closer to convincing yourself that you imagined it, so instead, you’ve switched tactics, which is to say doing anything you can to push the weirdness of the day out of your mind. You finally clean your apartment, which includes scrubbing the baseboards. (Here, you hear Wanda’s voice in your head saying, “You know your house is clean if even the baseboards are spotless,”). You make yourself a home-cooked meal so you wouldn’t fall on your crutch of ordering in. And finally, you put on a movie.

Finding a movie to watch isn’t easy, though. You’re in the mood for a comfort movie, but it’s hard to find one that you haven’t also watched with Wanda. So you finally settle on a silly buddy-cop movie that will be easy to turn your mind off to. Eventually, exhaustion wins, and the film becomes background noise as your eyes drift shut.

~

You’re at home. Not in your current apartment, but your old one. The one you shared with Wanda. The realization hits immediately. The walls, the furniture, the photographs, everything is exactly as it used to be. Except the apartment is a mess. Books litter the floor, cabinets hang open, blankets spill from the couch. Red motes of magic drift through the air.

You startle as you feel something brush up against your legs, and you look down to find Glitch staring up at you with one gray eye and one brown eye. He meows at you.

“Hey guy,” you say, reaching down to brush the knuckle of your index finger against his tiny, furry head. Glitch purrs, leaning into the touch. It’s only for a few seconds though and then he dashes away as if he’d just spotted a mouse or a bird.

You watch Glitch go, but then a voice comes back to you in reverb. Wanda’s voice saying your name, “Y/n…”

Your stomach twists. “Wanda?” You call. No answer.

You move deeper into the apartment, feeling the magic dust thickening around you. There’s a familiar hum in your ears, Wanda’s voice again, you know, but now you can’t make out what she’s saying.

And then, you find her. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed the two of you used to share, her head bowed and her hands clasped tightly together. Your heart breaks for her immediately because she looks so vulnerable like that. Like someone who’s been carrying the weight of the world for too long. Probably just as emotionally spent as you’ve been feeling for weeks on end.

“Wanda?”

Slowly, she lifts her head. Her eyes find yours, and the relief on her face is immediate. “Hi,” she says.

You swallow. “…Hi,” You don’t know why tears are suddenly burning behind your eyes. Maybe because this is the most real, the most lucid that these dreams have ever felt. Maybe because you’ve just missed her. Maybe because you still love her and you know you’ve never stopped.

“I saw you today,” Wanda says quietly.

You blink at her.

“In the grocery store,” Wanda explains.

Your breath catches. “So, that was you,”

A shaky laugh escapes her. “I thought maybe I’d imagined you,”

The admission pulls a reluctant smile from you. “Funny. I thought the same thing, actually,”

Wanda smiles back, but it wanes just as fast. Neither of you look away.

“I miss you,” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them.

Wanda’s eyes immediately fill with tears. “I miss you too,” her voice cracks halfway through her sentence. The sound nearly destroys you.

Wanda stands slowly, crosses the room, and stops directly in front of you. Close enough to touch. Her hands reach up to frame your face, mirroring your actions from last night’s dream. Your breath catches and you lean into the touch, placing your hands over hers. You close your eyes as your forehead presses gently against hers.

Wanda’s thumb strokes your cheekbone, and then she pulls back, far before you’re ready for her to. “Wake up,” she says softly.

“Wanda—“

“Shhh,” she squeezes your hand. “Wake up. I’ll see you soon,”

~

Your eyes snap open and you bolt upright on the couch, heart racing. On the TV, the ending credits for the movie you’d put on roll across a black screen. You stare at the credits, trying to process what just happened. You weren’t sure how you didn’t put the prices together before, but now you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that that wasn’t just a normal dream. And the hundreds you’d had before weren’t normal either. Wanda had infiltrated your dreams. She’d been trying to talk to you, trying to find you.

You exhale heavily and rise from the couch, and despite the late hour, you needed to go for a jog. You needed to think.

The air outside is cool, perfect jogging whether. You typically liked your jogs during daylight hours, but this would have to suffice. You needed literally anything wise from your own thoughts. Halfway through your run, your phone rings. You fish it out of your pocket, taking note of Natasha’s contact name.

You slow to a stop and accept Natasha’s call. “Hi,” you greet her, slightly winded from the run.

“How bad is it?” Natasha asks by way of a greeting.

You blink. “Huh? How bad is what?”

“The breakup.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Nat, please don’t—“

“You deflecting tells me everything I need to know.”

“Why are you even asking, Nat?” you huff, defensive.

“Wanda talked to me.”

You shed your defenses immediately like a chrysalis. Of course Wanda spoke to her, you didn’t blame her. Natasha had somehow become the unofficial mediator for every relationship within the Avengers.

When you don’t reply immediately, Natasha goes on to say, “She’s hanging on by a thread, y/n,”

Your chest tightens. But of course, you didn’t need to be told this. Wanda manipulating all your dreams was proof enough of that.

“I’m guessing you’re not doing much better, no offense,” Natasha says.

“Well, that’s offensive,” you huff. “What would you say if I said the opposite? If I said that I’m actually doing okay right now?”

“Then I’d strongly advise you not to bullshit me because you know I have a low tolerance for it.” Natasha counters.

You let out a dry chuckle. “Right.”

“Look, I know you’re a grown adult and I don’t run your life. But I’m also your friend and I don’t want you to suffer, so…just consider it, alright?” Natasha says.

You feel that telltale prickle in the back of your eyes. God, you were so sick of crying. “Okay,” you sigh. “Okay, yeah, I will,”

The call ends and you continue jogging, but if you think there’s any hope of clearing your mind now, you’re sorely mistaken.

The last thing you’re expecting to find when you return from your jog is someone standing outside your apartment door. You slow immediately, on edge. The figure turns, and startles at the sight of you, and suddenly your heart is trying to escape your chest. “Wanda?”

Wanda looks equally shocked. You approach carefully. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,”

“It’s okay, I just…thought you were inside. I just rang the doorbell,” Wanda says, her words coming out a little breathless.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, though you think it’s fair to say that’s a dumb question.

“I was hoping we could talk,” Wanda replies. “Can we? Please? I’ll even be quick,”

You smile and step past Wanda to unlock your door. “Of course. Come on in,”

Several minutes later, you’re sitting on opposite ends of your couch. The irony isn’t lost on either of you. There was a time when sitting this far apart would’ve been blasphemy. Wanda was a snuggler, and so were you.

Wanda fidgets with her hands. “I did want to see you, but first, I wanted to apologize for…the dreams. I’m sure you’ve picked up on the fact that—“

“You’ve been causing them,” you fill in the blanks.

“Yeah,” Wanda breathes. She looks up, meeting your eyes. “I’m so sorry, I’m sure it freaked you out. At first, I was just trying to cope. I told myself I’d only do it once, just once to make sure you were okay. But then…I sort of got addicted. I wanted to see you and I couldn’t stop.”

The confession hangs between you. Wanda studied your face, her shoulders hun he’d like she’s waiting for you to yell, to throw her out, to say how violated you felt. But the truth was that you weren’t surprised. You’d already figured it out. It would be hard not to know after that last dream you had. But moreover, you weren’t mad. You were honestly sort of relieved. Shaken, but relieved.

“It’s okay,” you say finally.

“You’re really not mad?” The question comes out so small. So uncertain.

You shake your head, a small huff escaping you. “How could I be?” you say, searching Wanda’s face too. “Knowing that you missed me just as damn much as I missed you,”

Tears immediately gather in Wanda’s eyes and in a flash, you closed the distance, scooting closer until your thigh brushed hers. You reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind Wanda’s ear.

“You don’t hate me?” She asks, her voice catching.

“God Wanda, no,” you reply, your own voice catching now. “I could never hate you,”

Wanda sniffles as tears begin to chase each other down her cheeks. “I could never hate you either,”

Your chest aches because of course she couldn’t. If either of you hated the other, moving on would’ve been easy. Instead, you spent months loving each other from separate apartments, separate beds, separate lives. Both remaining miserable the entire time.

A watery laugh escapes Wanda and she finally lets her head drop on your shoulder. Your wrap your arms around her, pressing a kiss into the crown of her head.

“Can we try again?” Wanda asks. The question is barely audible.

You don’t answer immediately, but you know what you’ll say. You’ve known for months what you’d say if faced with this decision.

You take Wanda’s hand in yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing your joined hands to your lips to kiss her knuckles. “Only if we’re both honest this time,”

She nods quickly. “Always.”

“And we actually lean on each other,” you add. “No more suffering in silence,”

“No more,” Wanda parrots.

You smile at her. “In that case, I’d love to,”

Wanda smiles back, lifting her hands to smooth away the fly always that have escaped your ponytail. You lean into her touch, permission granted. Your own hand slides to the nape of Wanda’s neck and you pull her in for a kiss. And it feels exactly like coming home, especially when Wanda smiles against your lips. Especially with the knowledge that maybe this time, you’ll get it right. And you’ll do it together.

[fandom--girlie]

Wanda Maximoff

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Voting ended onJul 4

[themoonhauntedmyillusionss]

𝑶𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 - 𝑵𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫, 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝟑𝟒 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝟐𝟎, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓞𝓷𝓮

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓣𝔀𝓸

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓕𝓸𝓾𝓻

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓕𝓲𝓿𝓮

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓢𝓲𝔁

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[azaablue]

the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be apart of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.

[gugumbathraw]

Lashana Lynch in The Woman King (2022) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood

[verainviolet]

Silence

Teacher!Wanda x Children Welfare!Natasha x Child!Reader

Summary: Ms. Maximoff, your teacher, notices something is wrong so her wife helps her find out what’s going on

Warnings: Implied child abuse/neglect, food insecurities, hurt/comfort

W.C: 4.8K

A.N: an unrealistic ending to a story that’s true for many. This one I’ve been meaning to write for a while; it felt like a hug 🫂

You don’t like loud classrooms.

They make your chest feel tight, like the air is too thick to breathe properly.

The other kids don’t seem to notice the chatter, the scraping chairs, or the laughter that comes too easily.

You sit at your desk near the window, fingers curled around the edge, eyes fixed on the trees outside.

It’s easier that way.

“Y/N?”

Your shoulders tense.

You know that voice.

Soft.

Careful.

Like it doesn’t want to scare you.

You turn your head just a little. Your teacher, Ms. Maximoff, is kneeling beside your desk now.

Her red hair falls forward slightly as she tilts her head, studying you with gentle concern.

“You’ve been awfully quiet today,” she says. “Is everything okay?”

You nod immediately.

Her expression doesn’t change much, but something in her eyes softens even more, like she doesn’t believe you, but she won’t push. Not yet, at least.

“That’s alright,” she murmurs. “If you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

You look back at the window, not wanting to continue the conversation.

Wanda notices patterns. It’s something she’s always been good at. Like, small shifts, quiet changes, the things other people overlook.

It’s part of what makes her such a good teacher.

And you… You don’t fit.

Not in the way the other children do. You don’t laugh loudly. You don’t raise your hand. You flinch when someone moves too fast near you. You freeze when voices get too sharp.

And sometimes—this is what unsettles her the most—you look tired.

Not sleepy.

Tired.

That deep, bone-heavy kind of tired no child should carry.

She tries again a few days later.

“Y/N,” she says gently after class, when the other students have left.

You pause at the door, your small backpack hanging off one shoulder.

“Can you stay for a moment?”

You hesitate.

Then nod.

You step closer, but you don’t meet her eyes.

Wanda keeps her voice soft. “I just wanted to check in. I’ve noticed you’ve been a little… quiet lately.”

Silence.

Your fingers tighten around your sleeve.

“You know,” she continues, “sometimes when something is bothering us, it can help to talk about it. Even a little.”

You shake your head.

Still not looking at her.

“I’m okay,” you whisper.

The words sound practiced.

Rehearsed.

Wanda feels her chest tighten.

“Alright,” she says, just as gently. “You can go.”

You leave quickly.

Too quickly.

-///-

That night, Wanda doesn’t stop thinking about you.

Her wife, Natasha, notices.

She always does, too.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Natasha says from the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug in her hand.

Wanda looks up from the couch. “What thing?”

“The ‘I’m worried but trying not to say it out loud’ thing.”

Wanda exhales softly, rubbing her hands together. “There’s a student in my class.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Only one?”

Wanda almost smiles, patting the seat next to her.

“She’s… different. Quiet. Withdrawn. But it’s more than that.” She hesitates, meeting Natasha’s eyes as she moves towards the couch. “She flinches. A lot. And she looks… exhausted.”

Natasha’s expression shifts instantly. Sharper now. Focused.

She sits down next to Wanda, knees touching her thigh as she tucks her legs underneath herself.

“How old?”

“Six.”

Natasha sets her mug down.

“Has she said anything?”

Wanda shakes her head. “Every time I ask, she shuts down. It’s like she’s… afraid of saying the wrong thing.”

That’s what does it.

Natasha straightens slightly, something cold and precise settling behind her eyes.

“Tomorrow,” she says, “I’m coming with you.”

Wanda blinks. “Nat—”

"Wands, I work in children's welfare. What you said is reason enough for me to look into it,” Natasha says calmly. “And if something’s wrong…” She trails off, but she doesn’t need to finish.

Wanda nods.

She trusts her.

Always has.

-///-

The next day, you notice her immediately.

She doesn’t belong in a classroom.

Not like Ms. Maximoff does.

This woman is… different.

She stands near the doorway at first, speaking quietly with your teacher.

She’s dressed simply, but there’s something about the way she holds herself, straight, alert, like she’s always watching.

Her eyes scan the room.

And then they land on you.

You look away quickly.

But it’s too late.

She’s already noticed.

Natasha takes her time.

She doesn’t approach you right away.

Instead, she observes.

The way you sit too stiff in your chair. The way your gaze flickers toward the door every few minutes. The way you hesitate before answering even the simplest question.

And then—

A boy runs past your desk too fast, and a chair scrapes loudly.

You flinch.

Not a small reaction.

Not subtle.

A full-body recoil, like you were expecting something worse.

Natasha’s jaw tightens.

Yeah.

Something’s wrong.

Later, during lunch break, Wanda sits beside you on the bench.

Natasha lingers a few steps away, pretending to check something on her phone.

“You remember my wife, Ms. Romanoff?” Wanda asks gently.

You nod.

“She works with children, too,” Wanda continues. “She just wants to make sure everyone is safe and happy.”

Safe.

The word makes your stomach twist.

Natasha steps closer, crouching down so she’s at your level.

Her voice is calm and steady.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Natasha.”

You don’t answer.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

You glance at her.

Just for a second.

Her eyes are different from everyone else’s.

They’re not soft like Wanda’s.

But they’re not harsh either.

They’re… certain.

As if she already knows something.

“Can I ask you something?” she says.

You hesitate.

Then shrug slightly.

It’s not quite a yes.

But it’s not a no.

Natasha nods once, like that’s enough.

“Do you feel safe at home?”

Your heart stops.

The world goes very, very quiet.

You stare at the ground.

You don’t respond.

You can’t.

Because if you say the wrong thing—

If you say anything—

Your fingers curl tightly into your sleeves.

Natasha watches the silence stretch.

The way your shoulders tense.

The way your breathing changes.

And that’s all she needs.

She doesn’t ask again.

Instead, her voice softens—just slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” she says. “And whatever is going on… it’s not your fault.”

Your throat tightens.

You blink hard.

Still, you say nothing.

But Natasha doesn’t push.

She stands slowly, exchanging a look with Wanda.

A silent understanding passes between them.

This isn’t nothing.

This is something.

And they’re not going to ignore it.

-///-

That afternoon, as you sit by the window again, the classroom feels a little different.

Not louder.

Not quieter.

Just… different.

Because now, someone has seen you.

Even if you didn’t say a word.

And for the first time in a long while, you’re not completely invisible anymore.

The man introduces himself as Steve.

He doesn’t stand over you like most adults do when they want something. Instead, he pulls a chair out slowly and turns it so he’s sitting across from you—not too close, not too far.

Just enough that you know he’s there, but not enough to make you feel trapped.

“Hi,” he says, offering a small, careful smile. “I’m Steve.”

You don’t answer.

You keep your eyes on the desk, tracing a faint scratch in the wood with your fingertip. You’ve already counted it before—three fingers long, slightly curved—but counting it again feels easier than looking up.

“That’s okay,” Steve says gently, like he expected the silence. “You don’t have to say anything right away.”

The room is quiet. Too quiet.

Outside the classroom, you can hear the distant noise of other students—chairs moving, someone laughing, a teacher calling out instructions. It feels far away. Like it belongs to a different world.

“I heard you like sitting by the window,” Steve continues after a moment.

Your finger stills.

He notices things.

You don’t like that.

“It’s a good spot,” he adds. “Lots of light. And you can see outside.”

You don’t respond.

But you don’t move away either.

Steve shifts slightly in his chair, resting his forearms on his knees. He doesn’t take out a notebook. Doesn’t write anything down.

He just… sits.

“I work with kids sometimes,” he says. “Mostly I just make sure they’re okay.”

Okay.

You swallow.

“I talk to teachers. Sometimes parents. Sometimes kids, if they want to.” He pauses. “But only if they want to.”

Silence stretches again.

Your shoulders feel tight.

Your chest feels tight.

“Do you feel safe at home?”

There it is.

The question.

It drops into the room like something heavy.

Your heart starts beating faster. You can feel it in your throat, in your ears, and in your fingertips.

You nod.

Too fast.

Too automatic.

Steve doesn’t react right away.

He just watches you.

Not in a scary way.

Not like he’s angry.

But like he’s… thinking.

Like he’s trying to understand something you didn’t say.

“Okay,” he says finally.

That’s it.

No follow-up.

No pressure.

But somehow that makes it worse.

-///-

He comes to your house two days later.

You know it’s him before anyone says his name.

There’s something about the knock, firm but not aggressive.

Steady.

Your stomach twists so hard it almost hurts.

“Stay in your room,” your parent says sharply, already moving toward the door.

You don’t argue.

You never argue.

You close your door quietly and sit on the floor, your back pressed against the side of your bed. It feels safer down here. Smaller. Like, if you make yourself small enough, you won’t be noticed.

Voices drift through the house.

Muffled at first.

Then clearer.

“…just a routine check…”

“…she’s a quiet child…”

“…always been sensitive…”

You pull your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, pressing your face down.

You try to make yourself even smaller.

“…we would never…”

“…of course, we understand your concern…”

Their voices sound normal.

You know that tone.

You’ve heard it before.

It’s the voice they use for other people.

Not for you.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

If you don’t move, if you don’t make a sound, maybe he won’t come up here.

Maybe he’ll just leave.

Maybe everything will stay the same.

You don’t know if that’s what you want.

But it’s what you’re used to.

After a while, the voices fade.

The door opens.

Closes.

Footsteps.

Silence.

He’s gone.

Nothing changes.

At first.

Then everything does.

You don’t go to school the next day.

Or the day after that.

At first, you think you’re sick without knowing you were.

Or maybe in trouble.

You don’t ask.

You’ve learned not to ask.

“There’s no need,” your parent says when you linger near the door on the third morning, your backpack hanging loosely from your shoulder. “You’ll stay home for a while.”

“For how long?” you whisper.

They look at you.

Just look.

Your throat closes.

“…okay,” you say quickly.

Your backpack stays by the door.

You go back to your room.

-///-

Days blur together.

You lose track of time.

Morning feels like evening. Evening feels like nothing.

The window doesn’t help anymore.

You stop looking outside.

There’s no point.

No one is coming.

-///-

Wanda notices on the first day.

The empty chair.

Your chair.

She pauses in the middle of attendance, her eyes lingering just a second longer than they should.

“Y/N?” she calls out automatically.

Silence answers.

A student shifts in their seat.

“She’s not here,” someone says.

Wanda nods slowly, marking it down.

Absent.

It happens.

Kids get sick.

But something about it doesn’t sit right.

On the second day, she asks the office.

“No call or note,” they tell her.

Her concern sharpens.

On the third day, she calls.

No answer.

By the fourth day, she’s pacing.

“You’re wearing a path into the floor,” Natasha says from the kitchen, watching her with quiet focus.

Wanda doesn’t stop. “She hasn’t been in school all week.”

Natasha sets her mug down. “Did the office hear anything?”

“No. No call. No email. Nothing.” Wanda runs a hand through her hair, frustration and worry tangled together. “That’s not normal.”

“No,” Natasha agrees. “It’s not.”

Wanda turns to her. “What if something happened?”

Natasha doesn’t answer right away.

Because they’re both thinking the same thing.

“What if we missed something?” Wanda whispers.

Natasha’s gaze softens slightly. “You didn’t miss anything.”

“But she wouldn’t talk to me,” Wanda says, her voice tightening. “She wouldn’t talk to Steve either, and now she’s just—gone.”

Natasha straightens. “Then we go find her.”

Wanda blinks. “Nat—”

“I mean it,” Natasha says. “This doesn’t feel right. Not after what we saw.”

Wanda hesitates.

Then nods.

“I’m going there,” she says.

Natasha doesn’t argue.

“I’m coming with you.”

The house looks normal.

That’s the first thing Wanda notices, and it makes something deep in her chest twist uncomfortably.

The curtains are neat. The garden is trimmed. The front step is clean.

Everything looks… fine.

Too fine.

“She lives here,” Wanda says quietly.

Natasha stands beside her, eyes already scanning windows, corners, and small details most people would miss.

“Okay,” she replies.

Wanda steps forward and knocks.

The sound echoes too loudly in the still air.

They wait.

Nothing.

Wanda knocks again, harder this time. “Y/N? It’s Ms. Maximoff.”

Silence.

It presses in from all sides, heavy and wrong.

Natasha’s gaze flicks upward. “Second floor. Curtain moved.”

Wanda’s heart stutters. “She’s here.”

“Yeah,” Natasha says, already moving. “She is.”

The door is locked.

Of course it is.

Wanda’s hands are shaking now, panic rising fast and sharp. “Nat—”

“We saw movement,” Natasha says, calm but firm. “We’re not leaving.”

That’s all it takes.

Upstairs, you freeze.

You didn’t mean to make a sound.

You were trying to be quiet.

You’re always quiet.

But when you heard her voice—

When you heard your name—

Something slipped.

Now your heart is pounding so loud it feels like it might give you away.

They’re here.

They came.

You press your hand over your mouth, trying to silence your breathing.

Maybe if you stay still—

Maybe if you don’t move—

They’ll leave.

Like everyone always does.

The door downstairs opens.

Footsteps.

Voices.

Your stomach drops.

They didn’t leave.

Wanda barely registers how they get inside. The house feels too still, too empty in a way that doesn’t make sense.

“Y/N?” she calls, stepping forward.

No answer.

Natasha moves ahead of her slightly. “Upstairs.”

They climb quickly.

Each step creaks.

Wanda winces at the sound, like she’s afraid it might scare you.

At the top of the stairs—three doors.

Two open quickly.

Empty.

The third stays closed.

Wanda’s chest tightens. “This one.”

Her hand trembles on the handle.

“Wanda,” Natasha says quietly behind her.

Wanda pauses.

“Whatever’s on the other side,” Natasha adds, “we handle it together.”

Wanda nods.

Then she opens the door; the room is dim.

Curtains drawn tight.

Air stale.

And there in the corner.

You.

Small.

Curled in on yourself like you’re trying to disappear.

Wanda’s breath catches.

“Y/N…”

You don’t move at first.

Then slowly, your head lifts.

Your eyes find hers.

And something in her chest breaks instantly.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she says softly, stepping closer. “It’s okay. It’s me.”

You flinch.

Even at her voice.

Natasha steps in behind her, taking in everything in one sharp glance—the room, the stillness, you.

Her jaw tightens.

But when she speaks, her voice is gentle.

“Hi, Y/N.”

Your lips part.

“I didn’t say anything,” you blurt out suddenly, panic cracking through your voice. “I didn’t tell him anything, I promise, I didn’t—”

Wanda drops to her knees in front of you. “Oh, honey—”

“I didn’t—” Your voice shakes harder. “I didn’t say anything—”

“Hey,” Natasha says, crouching down in front of you. “You’re okay.”

“I didn’t tell—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she says, firm and steady.

You freeze.

Your breathing stutters.

“I promise,” she adds, softer now.

Wanda’s hand settles carefully against your arm.

“You haven’t been at school,” she says gently. “We were worried.”

“I’m not supposed to go,” you whisper.

The words are small.

Fragile.

But they hit like something heavy.

Natasha’s expression sharpens slightly. “Who told you that?”

You shake your head quickly. “I just—I’m not—I don’t—”

The words won’t come.

Your chest feels too tight.

Everything feels too big.

And then—

The front door downstairs opens.

The sound is loud.

Final.

Your entire body goes rigid.

You try to pull away instantly, panic flooding through you.

“They’re back,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “They’re back—”

Footsteps.

Voices.

Getting closer.

“No, no—” you start, trying to move, trying to make yourself small again, trying to get away—

Natasha doesn’t let you.

Her hand steadies you immediately.

“Hey,” she says, low and firm. “Stay with me.”

You shake your head frantically. “I can’t—”

“You can,” she says.

And then she shifts.

Just slightly.

But enough.

Enough that she’s between you and the door.

Solid.

Unmovable.

Wanda moves closer to your other side, one hand on your back, grounding.

“You’re okay,” she murmurs. “We’re right here.”

The footsteps reach the stairs.

Each step is louder than the last.

Your hands are tight in Natasha’s shirt.

You can’t breathe.

The hallway creaks.

Then—

The doorway fills.

“What is going on?”

The voice is sharp.

Demanding.

Wrong.

You flinch hard.

Instinct.

Natasha notices.

Of course she does.

She rises slowly to her full height, placing herself fully between you and them.

Her posture is calm.

Controlled.

But there’s something underneath it.

Something dangerous.

“We came to check on Y/N,” she says evenly.

“You can’t just break into our house,” your parent snaps, stepping forward.

Natasha doesn’t move.

Doesn’t give an inch.

“You left a minor alone,” she replies, voice still calm—but colder now. “No school. No contact. No supervision.”

“That’s none of your business—”

“It is now.”

The words land hard.

Final.

Wanda feels you shaking beside her. She pulls you gently closer, one arm wrapping around you protectively.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. “You’re okay.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you whisper again, clinging tighter. “I didn’t tell—”

Wanda’s heart cracks all over again. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

“Don’t talk to her,” your parent says sharply.

You flinch.

Natasha sees it.

And that’s it.

Something in her expression settles completely.

Decision made.

“She’s coming with us,” Natasha says.

“No, she’s not.”

Natasha steps slightly forward.

Just enough.

“You can argue that with child services,” she says, voice low and controlled. “But right now? She’s not staying here.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Tense.

Heavy.

Your parent hesitates.

And that hesitation is everything.

Natasha turns slightly, her voice softening instantly when she looks back at you.

“Hey,” she says gently. “Come on.”

You don’t hesitate.

You move straight into her, clinging tightly, your fingers gripping her shirt like it’s the only solid thing in the world.

“I’ve got you,” she murmurs.

Wanda stays close, her hand never leaving your back.

“You’re safe,” she whispers again.

And this time—

You believe her.

-///-

The car ride is quiet.

You sit in the back at first.

For all of thirty seconds.

Then—

“No.”

Your voice is small.

Panicked.

“I don’t—I don’t want to sit back here—”

Wanda turns immediately. “Okay. That’s okay.”

Natasha has already pulled the car over.

“Come here,” Wanda says softly, opening the door.

You move quickly, climbing out and into the front, into her side, before you even realize what you’re doing.

You cling to her.

Hard.

Your face pressed into her shoulder.

Your hands gripping her sleeve.

She wraps both arms around you instantly.

“I’ve got you,” she murmurs, pressing her cheek gently against your hair.

Natasha glances over.

Something in her gaze softens.

Then she starts driving again.

Slow.

Careful.

Like she’s carrying something fragile.

Like she knows she is.

-///-

Their home is warm.

That’s the first thing you notice.

Not just the temperature.

The feeling.

It’s quiet—but not empty. Soft—but not suffocating.

Wanda guides you inside, her hand never leaving you.

“You’re okay,” she murmurs again.

Natasha locks the door behind you, quick and automatic. Then she looks at you.

Really looks.

Her gaze lingers, taking in your face, your hands, and the way you’re standing.

“Hey,” she says gently, crouching slightly so she’s closer to your level. “When was the last time you ate?”

You blink at her.

You don’t know.

Or maybe you do.

But it feels too far away to explain.

Your shoulders lift in a small shrug.

That’s enough.

Natasha glances at Wanda.

Wanda’s expression softens immediately. “Okay. Food first.”

You sit at the kitchen table, feet dangling slightly above the floor.

The chair feels too big.

Everything does.

But the kitchen smells warm.

Safe.

Natasha sets a plate down in front of you.

Dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.

You stare at them.

Really stare.

“Don’t worry, it’s chicken, not dinosaur,” Wanda says softly, a small smile tugging at her lips as she folds laundry at the end of the table.

Your eyes flick up to her.

Then back to the plate.

“Mm,” Natasha hums, settling into the chair beside you. “You say that, but you also insisted heart-shaped pasta tastes better.”

Wanda glances at her. “It does taste better.”

“It’s the same pasta.”

“It’s not the same experience.”

Natasha huffs quietly, something almost like a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “Right. Of course.”

You let out a small sound before you can stop it.

A soft, surprised giggle.

Your hand flies to your mouth immediately, like you need to hide it.

But it’s already there.

They both look at you.

Not sharply.

Not suddenly.

Just… gently.

Wanda’s smile softens.

Natasha’s expression shifts—something warmer, quieter.

Neither of them makes a big deal out of it.

They just… let it exist.

And then Wanda goes back to folding.

Natasha stays beside you.

Like nothing’s changed.

Like everything has.

Your hand moves slowly toward the plate.

Careful.

Uncertain.

You pick one up.

Take a bite.

You try to go slow at first.

You really do.

But your hands move faster than you mean them to.

Bite after bite.

Like if you don’t eat it now, it might disappear.

Natasha doesn’t interrupt.

Doesn’t reach in.

Doesn’t tell you to slow down.

She just shifts slightly closer.

Grounding.

Present.

Wanda notices next.

Her hands still for just a second before she quietly reaches for a napkin, placing it within your reach without a word.

No pressure.

No attention drawn.

Just… there.

“Hey,” Natasha murmurs after a moment, her voice low and steady. “It’s okay.”

You freeze for a second.

Still chewing.

“There’s more,” she adds gently. “You don’t have to rush.”

You nod quickly.

A little too quickly.

She doesn’t comment.

Just stands, moving back to the counter.

There’s a quiet clink of a plate.

The soft sound of more food being set down.

No hesitation.

No questions.

When she sets it beside you, her hand lingers for half a second near your shoulder.

Not touching.

Just close.

“I’ve got you,” she says quietly.

Something in your chest tightens.

But it’s not sharp.

Not like before.

Wanda glances up at Natasha, then at you.

And there’s something unspoken in the look she gives her.

Something soft.

Something certain.

Wanda steps closer, brushing lightly past Natasha as she moves.

Her hand rests briefly against Natasha’s side—familiar, absent-minded.

“You’re hovering,” she murmurs.

Natasha exhales softly. “I’m not hovering.”

“You are a little,” Wanda says, but not unkindly.

A pause.

“…it’s okay, though,” she adds quietly.

Natasha doesn’t answer.

But she stays right where she is.

Close.

And you keep eating.

Slower now.

Because for the first time—

You believe it won’t be taken away.

It’s only after you’ve finished eating that Natasha notices.

The smudge of something on your cheek.

The dirt still caught under your nails.

The way your sleeves hang stiff.

Natasha moves to look at Wanda, only to find Wanda already watching her.

“Okay,” Wanda says gently, stepping closer. “How about we get you cleaned up a little?”

You hesitate.

Just a second.

Then nod.

-///-

The bathroom fills with steam.

Warm.

Soft.

You sit in the tub, water wrapping around you, and for a moment you just… stay still.

Let it happen.

Wanda kneels nearby, her voice soft and steady as she talks about nothing—about school, about flowers, about things that don’t hurt.

Natasha moves quietly in and out, grabbing what she needs.

Towel.

Cream.

At one point, she pauses, watching you for a second.

Making sure you’re okay.

You glance at her.

She gives you a small smile.

It stays.

After, everything feels… lighter.

Not fixed.

But softer.

You stand in the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, while Wanda gently helps you into one of Natasha’s shirts.

It’s huge.

It swallows your form.

You glance down at yourself, unsure.

Wanda smiles. “Looks perfect.”

“Alright,” Natasha says, leaning lightly against the counter. “Come here a second.”

You step closer.

She holds up a toothbrush.

You hesitate.

Then step closer anyway.

“Open,” she says gently.

You do.

And then—

She starts brushing your teeth.

Carefully.

Slowly.

And—unexpectedly—

She starts humming.

Then quietly singing.

“Brush, brush, make them shine, Top and bottom, take your time…”

Your eyes widen slightly.

You weren’t expecting that.

“…little circles, nice and neat— Gotta take good care of teeth.”

A small sound escapes you before you can stop it.

A giggle.

It surprises you.

It surprises her too because she pauses for half a second, then—she smiles.

Really smiles.

Soft. Warm. A little amused.

“There it is,” she murmurs. “Knew you had more of those.”

Your face feels warm.

But not in a bad way.

-///-

Afterwards, stand awkwardly in the hallway.

“There’s a room you can use,” Wanda says gently, opening a door.

You look inside.

The bed.

The space.

The quiet.

Your chest tightens.

Too quiet.

Too alone.

You take a small step back.

“I—”

Your voice shakes.

“I don’t want to be by myself.”

The words come out barely above a whisper.

But they’re clear.

Wanda doesn’t hesitate.

“Okay,” she says immediately.

Natasha nods once. “That’s okay.”

They don’t question it.

Don’t push.

Just… accept it.

-///-

You find yourself in their bed, full and clean.

Your legs are tucked under you while you absently play with the wedding ring on Natasha’s finger as she sits beside you.

You twist it gently, careful, like you’re not sure you’re allowed but hoping you are.

She doesn’t stop you.

Doesn’t even comment.

Just lets you.

Wanda stands behind you, gently brushing your hair.

Slow strokes.

Working through tangles without pulling.

“You’re being very patient,” she says softly.

You nod a little.

Your focus is on the ring.

The way it catches the light.

The way it spins.

Natasha and Wanda talk quietly above you.

Low voices.

Calm.

You don’t understand all of it.

Something about calls. Paperwork. Tomorrow.

But their voices are steady.

Not sharp.

Not scary.

Just… there.

Wanda’s fingers begin to braid your hair, movements careful and rhythmic.

You lean slightly into the feeling without realizing it.

Into the warmth.

Into them.

And for the first time, everything feels slow.

Safe.

Yours.

Even if just for tonight.

-///-

The cake is a little uneven.

You notice that first.

The frosting swirls aren’t perfect, and one side dips slightly like it leaned too long, but it’s still the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.

Because it’s yours.

“Okay,” Wanda says softly, setting it down in front of you, a small smile on her face. “Ready?”

You nod, even though your chest feels full in a way you don’t completely understand.

Natasha stands just behind you, one hand resting lightly on your shoulder.

“Make a wish, baby,” she murmurs.

You close your eyes.

You don’t even have to think about it.

Then you blow out the candles.

Wanda claps softly, laughing a little. Natasha’s hand squeezes your shoulder once, and when you look up at her, she’s smiling—small, but real.

“Presents?” Wanda asks.

You nod again, a little more excited this time.

There aren’t many.

But that doesn’t matter.

Wanda hands you a small box first. Inside is something soft, a sweater in your favourite colour.

You smile, hugging it close.

“Thank you, Mom,” you say quietly.

Her eyes soften instantly.

Natasha hands you the last one.

It’s not wrapped like the others.

Just a folder.

You tilt your head slightly. “What’s this?”

“Open it,” she says gently.

You do.

At first, the words don’t make sense.

They’re too big. Too official.

Then you see it.

Your name.

Their names.

Together.

Something shifts.

Something settles.

You look up, your hands tightening slightly on the paper.

“…Mama?” you whisper.

Natasha’s expression softens completely. “Yeah.”

You turn to Wanda, your voice smaller now but steady.

“…Mom?”

She nods, her eyes shining. “Yeah, sweetheart.”

Your grip on the paper loosens as you move forward without thinking, wrapping your arms around both of them.

And this time—

You know you’re not going anywhere.

Not ever again.