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#Daisy Rogers
terry-perry · 2 months
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Loki: I’m truly honored that we’ve built such a bond!
Daisy: Aww!
Loki: You’re like the child that I wish that I had.
Steve: Uh, what?
Loki: I care for you just like a daughter I spawned.
Steve: Hold on now!
Loki: It’s a little funny, you can almost call me Dad!
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POV: Loki has been mentoring Daisy and uses this to tease Steve every now and then
Also yes I just binged all of Hazbin Hotel and it may or may not be my current obsession 😅
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navybrat817 · 2 months
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Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️
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A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.
It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.
With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.
Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.
Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.
His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.
Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.
A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.
The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.
You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.
The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.
He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.
Who wouldn’t fall for him?
You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.
“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.
You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.
“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?
The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”
Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.
“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”
Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”
“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”
“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”
You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.
You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.
“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”
“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”
“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”
“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.
Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”
Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.
He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”
You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.
Because why would he like you?
“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”
Which you did.
Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.
Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.
And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.
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They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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ginnsbaker · 7 months
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Bulletproof (5/?)
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Part Summary: Daisy's fingers intertwined with yours isn't a sign of a budding romance, but rather the result of a game... The explanation has been long overdue, but in the days since your return, Wanda has made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing to do with you.
Chapter word count: 3.2k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Still Unresolved Sexual Tension, Still Gay Disasters, Wanda is in denial, So are you
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader
Next Part | Series Masterlist
-
Daisy's fingers intertwined with yours isn't a sign of a budding romance, but rather the result of a game. 
On the flight back to the compound, you, Daisy, Vision, and Natasha, played a card game to kill time. You and Daisy, unfortunately, were on the losing side. Natasha, with her ever-sly grin and penchant for mischief, came up with a penalty—whichever team lost had to hold hands for the rest of the day. 
The explanation has been long overdue, but in the days since your return, Wanda has made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing to do with you. Initially, you thought getting out of her way would give her the space she needs after you revealed to her that you willingly participated in her sex dream—something you still constantly beat yourself up over.
But it has become evident that she requires more than just physical distance; she wants you completely out of her life.
On top of this, despite Daisy having moved out to her own room a week after she put in the requisition, your sleep hasn't improved much. Every time you close your eyes, memories flood in: Wanda's voice, her warmth, even her distinct scent, all haunting your dreams just as vividly as they do during your waking hours. 
The lack of sleep begins to take its toll, especially during training sessions. You're off your game, your reactions slowed, and your focus wavering. It's hard to stay sharp when your brain feels like it's swimming in a haze. 
Natasha, always direct, just told you straight up that you look like hell and that you should get more sleep.
Easier said than done.
One evening, after another training mishap, you finally decide it's time to face the root of your sleeplessness. Clearing matters with Wanda isn't just for your peace of mind now; it's essential for the team's safety.
Taking a deep breath and gathering your thoughts, you make your way to Wanda's quarters. In your hand, a small olive branch: her favorite snacks, hoping it might soften the forthcoming confrontation. As you near her door, the muffled sound of laughter stops you. It's her voice, paired with another's—a voice you don't recognize. 
As you inch closer, discreetly peeking into the slightly ajar door, the scene before you sharpens. The unfamiliar man stands closer to Wanda than anyone has in recent memory. Their laughter, her bright eyes, the casual touch of her hand on his arm—it's evident she's enjoying his company.
But it's not just any company, it looks like a date. And to make matters more intimate (and worse), they're headed into her quarters. The man holds a bottle of wine in one hand, suggesting a night in, and she's leading him, her fingers lightly grazing his as they move.
The snacks in your hand suddenly feel out of place, almost childish in the face of the mature, romantic scene unfolding before you. You spin on your heel, a new mission in mind, and beeline straight for Steve's office. Pushing through the door without knocking, you find him hunched over some paperwork.
“Steve,” you start, your voice edged with urgency. “What's the protocol for late-night visitors?”
He looks up, surprised by the sudden interruption, and takes a moment to process your question. “Well,” he begins, scratching his head, “As long as they're not on any criminal or watch lists, they're allowed in the compound.”
“Even this late?”
Steve's eyes dart away from yours for a moment, his cheeks tinting a soft pink. “We're all adults here,” he mumbles, the tips of his ears turning red. “As long as they're... respectful and discreet.”
Feeling the sting of frustration boiling over, you grit your teeth, barely getting out a terse “Fine,” before making your way out of his office.
On the way out, your gaze lands on a bottle of wine perched on a shelf, an apparent relic from a past era given the thick dust on its label. Without a second thought, you snatch it up.
“Hey!” Steve calls out, rising abruptly from his chair. “That's been aging for decades!”
But you're already gone, the echo of your footsteps a testament to your swift departure. Steve stands still for a moment, listening to the diminishing sound. Shaking his head, he mutters an exasperated, “Kids these days,” before turning back to his desk with a sigh.
Draining the entire bottle solo does little to coax sleep. Your healing powers, frustratingly, tend to neutralize the effects of intoxication almost immediately.
Still, you appreciate the brief, fleeting buzz. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the shadows morph and play tricks on your eyes. You consider maybe you should've joined Sam on his night flight practices. At least then you'd be physically tired enough to drown out the noise in your head.
Shifting in your bed with a sigh, your thoughts drift to the first time you saw Wanda Maximoff.
Rogers had you cornered, your back on the cold ground, his knee pressing firmly into your chest. The skirmish had been intense, your side versus theirs, and one by one, your allies had been captured or incapacitated. You were the last holdout, defiant to the end.
With Rogers' weight pinning you down, and your arms restrained, you could only tilt your head to the side, ears picking up the sharp, rhythmic clicks of boots against concrete.
Wanda Maximoff made her entrance, and even in your vulnerable position, her presence commanded attention. Those signature boots, the flow of her skirt, the cascade of mahogany hair—all of it painted a picture of power and poise. But it was her eyes that held you—a deep, entrancing gaze that seemed to see right through you.
And now it’s those same eyes that keep you up at night. The same ones that used to lazily open each morning, taking a moment to adjust before locking onto yours, almost lighting up when they did.
And fuck it—you really want to see those eyes right now.
With a sudden surge of boldness, you spring from the bed, with every intention to barge into Wanda’s room and throw out the man from earlier. 
But as you violently yank the door open, you're met with the most unexpected sight: Wanda.
She's standing there, fist raised, poised to knock. The proximity is startling. You can sense the faintest heat coming from her, so intimate it's almost intrusive. Her eyes widen in surprise, but you're too entranced to even process it. Your breath hitches, time seems to slow, and a million thoughts race through your mind.
Before any words can leave your lips, she closes the distance, her hands finding your face as she pulls you into a searing kiss.
Thrown off by the intensity of her kiss, you stagger back a few steps. On instinct, your hands slide down to the back of her thighs, lifting her with ease. She responds instantly, her legs wrapping around your waist, her grip on you tightening. The world blurs for a moment as your focus narrows down to the sensation of her against you.
With a swift kick, the door to your room slams shut, and you quickly reach behind to lock it. Your steps falter when the back of your knees hit the bed, causing both of you to tumble onto the soft mattress. The sudden change in elevation doesn't deter Wanda; she swiftly positions herself, straddling your hips, her hands exploring the contours of your face and neck. 
Drawn to the warmth of her skin, your lips meander down her throat, eliciting soft sounds with every touch. The moment you nip at her pulse point, a deep moan escapes her, its vibrations going straight to your own core.
The sound causes you to pull back slightly. “Wait, Wanda–”
Wanda's brow furrows in annoyance, her crimson lips parting in a soft pout. “Why are you stopping?” she huffs, her tone sultry but also slightly slurred.
That's when you realize it—the faint but unmistakable scent of alcohol on her breath, the slight glossiness of her eyes, and the way her movements, while passionate, are also a tad uncoordinated.
“Wanda, have you been drinking?”
Her head tilts slightly, as if trying to understand the question, her lips parting in a lopsided smile. “Just a little,” she admits, her fingers playing with the collar of your shirt.
You gently cup her face, thumbing away a stray strand of hair. “We shouldn't do this if you're not sober, Wanda.”
“Me being unconscious didn't stop you before,” she hisses, a dark undertone to her voice. The air in the room suddenly grows thick and heavy. Wanda's words, stinging like a slap. 
Your stomach drops, guilt and regret flooding through you. Carefully, you slip from Wanda's hold, swinging your legs off the bed to sit with your back turned to her. That night was something you'd replayed in your mind over and over again, beating yourself up for crossing a line you never should have. The hurt in Wanda's voice only exacerbates the pain.
“Wanda, I—” you start, risking a glance over your shoulder.
“I shouldn't have said that,” Wanda whispers, looking as if she's on the verge of tears. “I'm sorry.”
“No,” you quickly counter, a lump forming in your throat, “You meant that. And you have every right to. It's something we should've confronted a long time ago. Whatever happens next, I'll accept any consequences for my actions.”
Wanda reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder, her voice shaky, “If you're ready, then I'm ready too. I'm not innocent in all of this. I took advantage of the situation as well.”
You shake your head firmly, turning to face her and then grabbing her chin gently, making her eyes meet yours, “No, Wanda. You weren't aware. I was. I knew better. That's on me, not you.”
In response, Wanda dithers, then gently kisses the fingers you have placed under her chin. But she doesn’t stop there. A fire still kindling in her veins, she surges forward to claim your lips once again.
You kiss her back for a fleeting second, getting lost in the softness of her lips. But then you pull back, placing a palm against her chest. “Wanda, you need to sleep. You’re not…We'll talk. I promise, in the morning.”
She sighs, her fight melting away as the weight of the alcohol and exhaustion take over. Relenting, she nods, and you help her get situated under the covers.
You start to arrange some pillows on the floor, intending to make a bed for yourself. But as you're about to lie down, Wanda's sleepy voice stops you.
“Stay with me,” she mumbles. “I've been having trouble sleeping without you. I just... I want you near.”
Drunk Wanda feels like a whole other person, wearing her heart on her sleeve in a way that just makes you want to wrap her up and protect her.
After all that's transpired tonight, you're wary. But seeing her there, curled up and looking so small in that big bed, it's hard to resist. You exhale, "Just for tonight," you murmur, more to yourself than to her.
Climbing into the bed, you maintain a respectful distance at first. But, as minutes tick by, you find Wanda inching closer, until her head is nestled into the crook of your neck. Her warm breath tickles your skin, and you can't help but wrap an arm around her, pulling her close.
With everything that went down tonight, you'd think sleep would be impossible. But with the bed being so comfy and Wanda so close, you feel your eyelids getting heavy. It’s strange how having someone next to you can make things feel a bit better. Even with all that’s happened between you two, Wanda’s still your calm in the storm. 
And you hope, deep down, you're that for her too.
-
The next morning dawns, and you find the space beside you empty.
It's not entirely unexpected.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you notice the other side of the bed is empty. It’s quiet, and the room feels a bit colder than before. Splashing cold water on your face helps you wake up a bit more, but it also makes everything from last night crash back into your mind.
Alright, deep breath. You've got this.
For now, giving Wanda her space feels like the right move. You can't even begin to imagine what's going on in her head. But you–
You've got a pretty clear picture of what you want, and if that means waiting a bit longer for her to figure things out, so be it.
Pulling on some clothes, you decide to bury yourself in work and maybe hit the gym later. A distraction is just what you need right now. But as you leave the room, you can't help but hope that once everything cools down, you and Wanda can finally sort things out. 
Whatever that might look like.
-
The timing couldn't have been worse. Of all the moments for disaster to strike.
The piercing shriek of alarms tears through the compound right before dinner.
It is quickly followed by an earth-shaking rumble. 
The compound is under siege, and this isn't a regular assault. It's planned, strategic, and designed for maximum devastation. The ground quivers beneath you as you scramble to your feet.
Missiles rain down from all directions, their impacts causing blinding explosions and sending shockwaves that rattle the building's foundation. Dust and debris cloud the air, limiting visibility. The familiar hum of the building's defenses rises, but it's evident they're struggling against the barrage.
Steve's voice, steady yet urgent, sounds over the intercom. “All hands on deck! Secure the compound. Natasha, Clint, get the personnel out now.”
You grab your gear and rush out, adrenaline surging. The corridors are chaos—agents, staff, and superheroes all trying to restore order while dodging blasts and the intruders now inside.
You take a sharp turn, making a beeline for Wanda's quarters. As you approach, your heart sinks. The area is a mess of crumbled concrete, twisted metal, and shattered ceilings. The sight is gut-wrenching, and a cold dread fills your chest.
“Wanda!” you shout, your voice raw with fear. Debris crunches under your boots as you race towards the wreckage of her room, trying to find any sign of her.
Distant explosions and shouts echo down the corridor, but they're just background noise to the panic tightening in your chest. You start to dig through the rubble, tossing aside chunks of wall and broken furniture.
“Wanda!” you yell again.
Suddenly, a muffled groan reaches your ears, and you zero in on its source. Frantically clearing away the debris, your hands finally find the familiar fabric of her jacket. Pulling with all your might, you manage to free her from the wreckage.
Her face is smudged with dust, a small cut bleeding on her forehead, but her eyes—those eyes you had lost sleep over—flutter open, meeting yours with a mixture of relief and pain.
“Hey,” she coughs weakly, a small smile forming on her lips despite the situation.
As you reach to help her up, she lets out a sharp, agonized scream that stops you dead in your tracks. Your gaze shifts down, and horror sets in as you spot a length of steel rebar protruding from her side, clearly having pierced through her abdomen. Blood seeps around the intrusion, staining her clothes a dark, foreboding shade of crimson.
“Wanda!” The name escapes your lips in a choked whisper, panic overtaking your every thought. Dropping to your knees beside her, your hands hover above the injury, unsure of what to do. Removing the rebar might cause more damage, but leaving it could be just as lethal.
The anguish in Wanda's eyes is almost too much to bear, tears spilling down her face as she clutches weakly at the protruding metal. “I–It hurts,” she manages to gasp out, her voice trembling.
Distant footsteps grow louder, echoing through the shattered hallways. The approach is too rapid, too relentless. Friend or foe, you can't determine. You don’t have the luxury of time to find out.
With urgency mounting, your eyes, stinging with tears of your own, dart around the destroyed corridor, searching for an exit, a hiding spot, any kind of advantage. But every moment counts. “Hold on, Wanda,” you whisper, your voice thick with desperation. “Just hold on.”
But she's weakening fast. You know you need to act, and quickly. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you place one hand above the wound and the other below. “I'm going to pull it out, okay? I need you to stay with me.”
With a nod from Wanda, albeit a weak one, you summon all your strength, both physical and emotional, and in one swift motion, you remove the metal. Blood flows more freely now, and Wanda's scream fills the corridor, echoing off the walls.
Using your powers, you immediately start to heal the wound, the warm glow surrounding your hands as they work their magic on her injured torso. Wanda's once steady heartbeat is now all over the place under your touch. 
The process is agonizingly slow, and every second feels like an eternity. You literally feel your powers leaving your body, as you concentrate on focusing all your energy on the gaping hole on Wanda’s stomach. You dig deep, pulling out energy you didn't even know you had. It's like trying to stay afloat when every wave tries to drag you under. But bit by bit, you watch the wound start to close, the bleeding halting, and the raw edges of her skin fusing back together.
Wanda's shaky breaths slowly stabilize, but her complexion remains worryingly pale. By the time you've healed the wound to just a scar, you're on the brink of passing out, every bit of energy sapped from you.
“Y/N…” Wanda weakly squeezes your hand. “You... you saved me again,” she says, her voice a raspy whisper.
Your head leans into hers, and you muster a faint smile. “Always for you,” you whisper back. 
You both start leaning in, faces just a few inches away, when–
When suddenly, a sharp pain lances through your chest, quickly followed by another agonizing jolt in your stomach. Not so long ago, you shrugged off a sniper's bullet like it was nothing. But now, these bullets burn, and the shock of not being invincible all the time hits you harder than the actual shots.
Wanda's eyes, previously filled with gratitude, are now wide with horror. The transition from relief to shock to rising fury is evident. Her eyes blaze a menacing shade of red, her powers swelling with her emotions.
“You... you were bulletproof,” she stammers, a trembling hand reaching out to you.
“I thought I was,” you choke out, blood pooling in your mouth and trickling down the side of your lips.
Your strength is fading fast, and everything's starting to go fuzzy. All around, the place is falling apart, but there's this sudden burst of red energy. 
Wanda. 
She's letting it all out, and the power's intense. 
The last thing you hear, right before everything goes black, is Wanda's voice, raw and choked with emotion, screaming your name. “Y/N!”
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gaycicada · 3 months
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The only takeaway I got from A Stern Look is that Elias Bouchard is in fact Shaggy. Okay now here me out-
- The man smokes pot
- He comes from money
- His parents expect something greater of him
- He investigates strange and inexplicable happenings
- Green is a major part of his color scheme
- He lives with a roommate fixated on solving some kind of mystery (I think)
- He’s all powerful
I mean-
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momentofch-aos · 3 months
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M's Marvel Thought of the Day
Daniel Sousa, now settled in the 21st century, looks up what happened to his friends from his own timeline.
Daisy had already gently broken the news about Peggy's death to him. They visited her grave site and talked about the adventures and missions the two had been on.
He read the case file on Howard and Maria Stark's death, the Winter Solider case and knowledge of who he was sending him for a loop. He'd met Sergeant Barnes once, that day when he thought he would die on the battle field. He had never been Howard's biggest fan but no one deserved that.
He read the obituaries of Ana and Edwin Jarvis, found they were buried in New York, side by side as they'd been in life. He left pink flowers - Ana's favourite colours of peonies - on their grave, and thanked them for their friendship and support.
There had been two people he'd been somewhat surprised to find out were still alive and unbelievably in the same old people's home in DC. He'd been unsure whether visiting would be a good idea but after some gentle investigating from Daisy and Mack, he found himself entering a rec room. There was various elderly people around, reading newspapers or napping in high backed armchairs. But no-one looked familiar. Daisy squeezed his hand before getting the attention of one of the nurses, who led them around the corner of the room.
As they make their approach when Daniel hears a far too familiar voice, making him stop in his tracks.
"Ha! Got you again Thompson, pay up!" Rose Roberts, with now grey hair but with the same thick glasses, smirked triumphantly across the top of the checkers board.
The older man across the table groaned. "We go through this every damn day Rose. Can we go back to Chess?" Daniel took in the older man he'd known a life time ago, hair still slicked back in the way it had always been. A cane leant against the wall behind him and he coughed after laughing at Rose's comeback.
"Chief Thompson? Agent Roberts?" The nurse asked drawing their attention. "You have some visitors."
Both former agents looked across to see Daniel standing with an indecipherable look on his face.
"Fucking hell..."
"What the hell..." Their voices overlapped suddenly.
"Hey Rose, hey Jack." Daniel said stepping forward. Rose struggled to her feet, using the table to leverage herself up.
"Chief? Is that really you?" Rose looked up at him, his arms coming up to help balance her.
"It's me. It's good to see you Rose." And he found himself engulfed in her arms, wrapping his back around her and holding her tight. "God it's good to see you Rose."
"How the hell are you here?" She said as she looked back up to him. "And who's the beautiful woman you brought with you?" She fixed him with that same mischievous look she used to shoot at him all the time after glancing to Daisy who stood off to the side. Always so invested in his love life, so he chuckled.
"I can explain everything I promise. Why don't we sit?" He helped her back to her chair, glancing across to Jack who had his hand's in fists on the other side of the table. "Hi Thompson."
"Who are you?" He demanded. "You're sure as hell not Daniel Sousa. He died in...55." He paused remembering the exact year. "We buried him. We... mourned him. You sure as hell aren't him."
"I can explain that I am Jack."
"I am 102, not stupid." Rose scoffed, making both men turn to her.
"Jack do be serious. What about Rogers? He came back to Peg did he not?"
"How can we be sure? It may be some traitor. Davey was telling me just the other day about those shape shifting aliens Fury was palling around with..." Jack started saying.
"How about this Jack? I'll prove it to you." The older man looked puzzled but let him continue. "Before you went to Russia with Carter, met the Howling Commandoes when we were investigating Stark. You tricked me in the locker room, into seeing Carter changing. You asked me to get your compass from..."
"Locker 42." Jack finished his sentence and looked Daniel up and down, his gaze resting on the prosthetic leg.
"I've still only got one leg but the future makes a better prosthetic than Stark by a mile." Daniel joked, and Jack stood at that, pulling Daniel into a hug that he was not expecting. "It's good to see you too Jack."
They sat back down, chairs pulled up for Daniel and Daisy, as they told the story of faking his death, and pulling him out of time. Of their adventures into space and the weird and wacky things he'd discovered in the 21st Century.
They told him stories from their own lives after his death, cases he'd missed out on, Howard's ridiculousness. Peggy's rise to power. The three old friends spoke fondly of her, recalling stories from throughout the time they spent with her.
Rose grilled him and Daisy on their story and relationship, telling Daisy all the embarrassing things that Daniel had been happy to leave behind in the 50's. The unlikely pair giggled and formed a friendship.
Rose told her stories of her first and second marriage, her daughter, son-in-law and grandson who would visit every weekend.
Jack had been married when Daniel died, to Peggy's lovely personal secretary Ruth who knew how to put him in his place. They'd only had a daughter the year or two before Daniel supposedly died. Jack talked about how they'd gone on to have three more daughters, now had 8 grandchildren, including a grandson who had joined SHIELD recently (Daniel promised to keep an eye out for him). Then, his Ruth had passed a few years ago and Daniel expressed his condolences.
At that moment, a young boy, probably 5-years-old barrelled into the room and to Jack's side. "Pops, Pops!"
"Hey there, Danny. How's my favourite guy?" With surprising strength for a man of his years, Jack swung the young man up till he was sat on his knee.
"I'm good! Momma's coming now." He pointed to where a pretty blonde was making her way across the room, shaking her head as she stooped to kiss Jack on the cheek and ruffle her son's head.
"Sorry Grandpa, the traffic was horrendous." She greeted Rose much the same way, passing her a package. "Fudge from that place on 4th for your Rose, Danny over there insisted." She turned to the guests who sat between them. "Hello, I'm Ruthy." She shook their hands.
"Ruthy, this is Daniel and Daisy. Daniel, Daisy, my granddaughter Ruthy and her son, Danny." Jack smirked at Sousa as his great-grandson played with the watch on his wrist.
"Danny? Huh." Was the only thing Daniel came up with as he watched an old friend acting like a goofy grandparent.
"Yeah, Grandpa had a friend called Daniel who saved his life a bunch of times when he was younger. Used to tell us stories all about Sousa and Carter and their adventures. We never believed him until we found out where he worked." Ruthy filled in nonchalantly, sitting on the opposite side of the table, digging through her bag to produce a water bottle for her son unaware of the look on Daniel's face. Jack smirked massively. "Here, Grandpa. I managed to grab that album from storage that you wanted." She handed across a large leather bound photo album to the older man, who flipped through a few pages.
"Here you go Daisy, you'll like this one." Jack smirked, that old charming smile creeping onto his face as he passed the now open book across to her, Daniel peering over her shoulder and scoffing.
"Woah." Ruth finally looked up, glancing at the photo and then back up to Daniel and back again. "Well. I cannot believe it took me that long. I knew you looked familiar. I thought it was just Quake that had me thinking that."
Daisy smirked. "You don't seem surprised?"
"Oh I've worked at Stark Industries for a long time, I'm so used to superheroes and weird tech not much surprises me anymore. You see Tony Stark walking round in Iron-Man pants one too many times and you get over stuff pretty quickly." She levelled Daniel with a look. "Time travel huh?"
"Yes. But I haven't seen these in literal years." He said his hand tapped a few photos. One from the first day of opening the first SHIELD base, Thompson and Howard Stark stood either side of Peggy and Daniel. Another of Peggy, Daniel and Rose throwing confetti at Jack's wedding. One of Daniel and Thompson with Peggy on her Wedding Day. An outtake of that one where Howard was attempting to jumping into frame and Jarvis dragging him out, while the three of them laughed lay below it.
He could still picture that party, he could hear the band playing, memories of Peggy dancing with Rogers, happy and content. He remembered how happy he was for her.
Daisy squeezed his knee beneath the table and brought him back to the present. He pressed a kiss to her temple and continued the conversation. They had coffee and cake and Rose shared her fudge. Daisy made lunch trolley roll across the room, making Jack's great-grandson shriek in delighted laughs and push it back into a position where she could do it again and again.
They left hours later and Daniel felt more settled than he had done in a long time. Daisy squeezed his hand as they drove away.
They'd return to visit every time they were in town, which was more often these days now SHIELD HQ was there, sometimes together, sometimes alone. They met all of both of their families, attended Ruth's 100th birthday. Brought presents for Daniel's namesake's birthday.
When Daisy and Daniel tied the knot, two reserved seats on the front row of the groom's side were filled my two of his oldest friends some of their families just a couple rows back. They 'snuck' them into new SHIELD HQ to see all the new tech and planes, the memorial wall that included people they'd known a lifetime ago.
Daniel loved the future, loved living his life alongside Daisy and her family. But knowing his friends were there, getting to spend time with them was an unexpected but valuable thing for him. It gave him a link to the past, someone to shoot the breeze with, with some similar experiences from the past. A taste of a previous life he was grateful for as he lived his new one.
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terry-perry · 2 years
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Y/N: Daisy, you don’t know how good you have it here. Your uncles are in jail because they dare to express their opinions.
Steve: That’s not why they’re in jail.
Y/N: I’m making a point!
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ginnsbaker · 8 months
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Bulletproof (4/?)
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Part Summary: There's a new recruit who seems to have taken a liking to you. If things were normal between you and Wanda, maybe she wouldn’t feel so…threatened.
Chapter word count: 2.6k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Enemies to Lovers to Enemies, Gay disasters
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader
Part Five | Series Masterlist
-
The newest recruit, Daisy Johnson, seems to have taken a liking to you.
At least, that's what Wanda Maximoff has observed since Daisy's inclusion earlier this week.
From the corner of her eye, Wanda constantly catches the newbie stealing glances at you during training, meals, and even debriefing sessions. It's not that she keeps tabs on you or anything, but she can't help but notice when you catch someone’s attention, especially when that someone seems to be nearly everywhere you are.
In every training session, Wanda notes Daisy choosing to partner up with you or standing close by during briefings. Even in the more relaxed moments within the compound, Daisy seems irresistibly drawn to you. Wanda doesn't miss how Daisy occasionally throws prolonged glances your way, or how she laughs a tad too enthusiastically at something you say.
And it doesn't help that you and she walk on eggshells around each other since your confession in your old cell.
Neither of you has made any attempts to talk to the other again. Not even a glance, as if pretending the other doesn't exist will make that fateful night disappear. But for Wanda, the more she tries to push it out of her mind, the more sharply it edges back in, refusing to be forgotten.
She can't help but wonder: Was it wrong of her to move like that in her sleep? And were you out of line for not waking her up right away? 
And more importantly: Were you so repulsed by it that you chose a prison cell over sharing her bed?
All these questions keep swimming in her mind, to the point where she has considered going to whoever handles this sort of stuff at the compound—kind of like an HR Department, but for Avengers. Perhaps a course on understanding boundaries might help you both move past this and start anew.
But then again, addressing it means dealing with it, and right now, just avoiding the whole mess seems so much easier.
As Wanda turns a corner in one of the compound's sprawling hallways, her eyes catch sight of you and Daisy. You’re both laughing, heads thrown back, not a care in the world. Wanda's eyes involuntarily narrow at the sight, taking note of the negligible distance between you two. Daisy's hand is resting lightly on your arm, fingers dancing along the fabric of your shirt as she emphasizes a point in her story.
Wanda tries to walk past nonchalantly, yet can't seem to dispel the feelings that bubble up each time she sees you with Daisy.
It's maddening. If things were normal between you and Wanda, maybe she wouldn’t feel so…threatened. 
But they aren't. 
And she does.
-
Wanda's patience is tested to its limits one Saturday afternoon. 
Tasked with joining Sam to whip up dinner for the team's weekly movie night, she's diligently chopping vegetables in the expansive kitchen when Daisy sidles up to her.
“Hey, uh, Wanda, right?” Daisy begins, a casual tone to her voice.
Wanda doesn’t even look up as she answers, “Yes?”
“Can I ask you something about Y/N?”
Wanda's grip on the knife tightens just a fraction, her posture stiffening. “I think it’s better if you ask Vision–he monitors all of us even more closely than the cameras we have everywhere.”
As the words leave Wanda's mouth, Vision, who’s been quietly tinkering with a device on the other side of the kitchen, looks up suddenly, his usually stoic face showing a hint of surprise.
“I assure you, I do no such thing,” he starts, his tone a touch defensive. “Monitoring everyone is not part of my programming or my personal interests.”
Daisy raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Sure, Vis. Everyone needs a hobby, right?”
Vision clears his throat, looking somewhat flustered, “It is not a 'hobby' of mine.”
Wanda can't help but smirk slightly at Vision's discomfort, her attention briefly diverted from the awkwardness with Daisy. “It's just a joke, Vision. Relax.”
He gives a curt nod, turning his attention back to the device in his hand, though he remains noticeably quiet.
Daisy chuckles lightly, but her curiosity remains unsated. “Anyway, back to Y/N?” She prompts, looking expectantly at Wanda. “Steve mentioned that if anyone on the team knows Y/N best, it'd be you, considering you two shared a room.”
Fucking Steve.
Wanda takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She finally glances up to meet Daisy's eyes, her expression guarded. “What do you want to know?”
“Is Y/N... you know, single? And what do you think of them?”
Wanda's eyebrows shoot up, her eyes sharpening immediately. She places the knife down on the countertop with more force than necessary. “Why do you ask?”
Sam whistles softly, making it obvious he's eavesdropping. “Damn, getting intense over here,” he comments with a grin, making no effort to hide his amusement.
Daisy shoots him an exasperated look, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Trying to have a conversation here, Wilson.”
Ignoring Sam's teasing, Wanda presses, “I just want to know why you're asking.”
Daisy sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. “We've been talking a lot, and I was just... curious.”
Sam, not missing a beat, chimes in, “Curious or interested?"
Daisy rolls her eyes. "Nosy much?"
Wanda reaches for the shredder and starts grating all the remaining vegetables rather aggressively.
Sam laughs before lifting the spatula to his lips to sample the soup he’s making. “Just trying to get the lay of the land.”
“Why don't you focus on your soup, Sam?” Wanda retorts, though her eyes never leave her task.
Sam smirks, catching the hint of jealousy in Wanda's tone, and decides to push just a little further. “You know, Wanda, if you have something to say about Y/N, now's the time.”
Wanda's eyes flash red for a brief moment. Sam holds his hands up in mock surrender, but the smirk doesn’t leave his face.
Daisy looks between them in confusion. 
Taking a moment, Wanda sets the shredder aside and faces Daisy squarely. “Y/N almost risked their life to save mine. If you're looking for a testament to their character, well, actions like that are rare to come by.”
“And as for Y/N’s relationship status,” she continues, a bit reluctantly, “I believe they're single.”
Daisy's gaze becomes gentle, a dreamy quality entering her eyes. “That's... truly heroic,” she whispers, almost to herself. Wanda feels a sudden urge to throw up.
She then flashes a grateful smile at Wanda. “Thanks, Wanda. That means a lot coming from you.”
Wanda merely nods before clearing her throat. “Well, now that that's settled, could someone pass the salt?”
It’s Sam who hands it over, but not before saying, “Try not to add too much. We wouldn't want dinner to be as salty as some people's moods.”
-
Tony is, unsurprisingly, first in line, eagerly eyeing the roasted vegetables. “If the taste is half as good as the smell, we’re in for a treat tonight.”
Steve chuckles, replying, “I think we can trust Wanda and Sam's culinary skills by now.”
Natasha and Clint are engrossed in a deep conversation about an upcoming mission, while Bruce discusses some new upgrades with Tony. Vision, for his part, is explaining to Peter the intricacies of using Wanda's food processor.
As the chatter continues, Wanda moves to retrieve the centerpiece of the dinner: a golden-brown roasted chicken. She feels everyone's eyes on her, awaiting the moment the chicken will land on the table. However, her gaze is involuntarily drawn to the table where she sees you and Daisy sitting next to each other, laughing about something. 
In that split second of distraction, her fingers graze the scalding metal rack of the oven. A sharp hiss escapes her lips, the sudden pain evident on her face. Dropping the oven mitts, she mutters a quick “Excuse me” and dashes off to the nearest bathroom, intending to run the burnt area under cold water.
You notice her quick exit and, after a brief moment of hesitation, quietly follow her. As you near the bathroom, the sound of running water reaches your ears.
Without knocking, you enter. Wanda is cradling her hand, trying to soothe the burn. 
Your voice is soft with concern when you speak, “Wanda? Let me help.”
Wanda quickly pulls her hand away from the water, her eyes widening as she registers your arrival. “I’m fine,” she snaps, her posture tensing further. Water drips from her fingers onto the porcelain sink.
You take a hesitant step forward, your intent clear. “I can heal it. Just let me—”
“I said I'm fine,” she interrupts, her voice sharp. “Sometimes it's good to feel pain, you know, heal the natural way. Not everything needs a... quick fix.” She glances pointedly at you, an obvious jab at your abilities.
Your eyes narrow slightly at her comment, but you keep your emotions in check. “It's not about the quick fix, Wanda. It's about helping someone in pain, even if that someone is stubbornly pushing everyone away.”
She sighs, her defenses visibly waning. “Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be out there with Daisy?”
“What’s Daisy got to do with any of this?”
Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, averting her gaze. Even if she has an answer ready, she's not sure she'd want to voice it.
With a sharp exhale, your frustration bubbles over. 
“Fine,” you say tersely, pointing at her burned hand. “Let it scar then. See if I care.” 
Moving swiftly, you leave the bathroom without waiting for her response.
Wanda stays there for a few minutes, taking deep breaths and trying to steady herself. When she finally decides to rejoin the team for dinner, she notices the empty spot beside Daisy. You're gone, probably to your room.
Regret coils in her stomach. She didn’t mean for things to escalate like that, especially when all you were trying to do was help. 
-
She hasn't felt this anxious in a long time.
It reminds her of the days after she lost everything that truly mattered.
Checking that everyone is probably asleep, Wanda takes a deep breath and heads towards your room. Her mind races, trying to figure out what to say, how to apologize. 
She stops in front of your room and then gently raps on the door, listening intently for any sign of movement inside. “Y/N?” she calls out hesitantly. She doesn't expect the door to open immediately, and when it does, it's not you who answers. 
Instead, Daisy stands there, looking a little startled too.
“You…” Wanda hisses slowly before she can catch herself.
Daisy quickly registers Wanda's reaction and raises her hands in a placating manner. “Oh, right. Sorry, this must be weird. My apartment had a plumbing issue, a flood actually. Since I'm joining the team permanently, I made a request for a new room. But until that's sorted, Y/N offered me theirs.”
Wanda's insides churn with a jealousy she can't quite place, but she masks it swiftly, painting on a polite smile. “And where's Y/N now?” she asks, her voice deceptively calm.
Daisy bites her lip, appearing somewhat embarrassed. “They're asleep,” she admits. Stepping aside, she reveals you, nestled in a makeshift bed on the floor, blankets arranged around you for some semblance of comfort.
Wanda's eyes soften at the sight of you, but her heart also tightens in anger. You've given up your bed, your comfort, for Daisy. You’re doing for someone else what she’s done for you. It feels like an invasion of something she thought she exclusively shared with you.
Daisy shifts, catching Wanda's stare. “They wouldn’t listen to me,” she explains, a bit embarrassed. “Kept saying it's fine and that I should take the bed.”
Wanda just nods, a tightness in her voice. “Sounds like them, alright.”
Trying to ease the tension, Daisy adds, “Y/N always talks about you, you know. In a good way. Maybe you two should just... chat.”
Wanda raises an eyebrow, a little surprised. “They do?”
Daisy chuckles. "Yeah. Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Night."
“Night,” Wanda murmurs, still looking at you.
Once Daisy’s gone, Wanda hesitates. Part of her wants to barge in, shake you awake, and have that long overdue talk. Instead, she absentmindedly touches the burn on her hand, its sting a reminder of how you tried to help her earlier. It's jarring to think that you, even after avoiding each other for days, were ready to heal her.
And damn, it hurts. Not the burn, but the realization of how much she misses you. 
-
Wanda doesn’t get any chances to talk to you for the next several days because you–along with Natasha, Daisy and Vision are called away to a mission. 
Each day you’re away, Wanda feels the weight of anxiety pressing down on her chest. She can’t help but worry, replaying every worst-case scenario in her mind. She catches herself multiple times pacing by the control room, asking for updates, or staring out at the landing pad, waiting for the quinjet to return.
When word finally arrives that the quinjet is en route back to the compound, Wanda finds herself in the hangar before she’s even consciously made the decision to be there. Steve stands next to her, his face betraying his own relief. A few other team members have gathered too, all awaiting the return of their comrades.
The roar of the quinjet’s engines fills the air as it makes its descent. As the ramp lowers, Wanda's eyes scan the disembarking figures, and they lock onto yours. You look a little worn, a fresh bruise marring your cheek—oddly enough, one you've chosen not to heal. But beyond that, you seem okay.
Her heart swells with relief.
You seem to pause for a second, looking genuinely shocked to see Wanda amongst those waiting. For a moment, your eyes lock. She offers a tentative smile, full of hope, and it seems you're about to approach her. But then, as you step further out of the quinjet, Daisy appears at your side. The way she comfortably intertwines her fingers with yours sends a sharp pang through Wanda's heart and her smile falters.
Steve claps his hands together, attempting to reign in the team's focus. “Alright, debrief. How did it go?”
Natasha, with a deadpan expression, shoots back, “Could’ve gone smoother if you’d packed me a flask, Rogers.”
Steve smirks, shaking his head. “Alright, Romanoff. Just don’t make us wait too long.”
As you approach Wanda, your expression gives away nothing. “Hey,” you murmur, voice neutral. But Wanda’s eyes have darted down to where your hand is connected with Daisy's. Her eyes harden, and when she meets your gaze, they’ve become unreceptive.
Misreading the tightening of Wanda's features as coldness, your frown deepens. You'd thought some time apart might've helped ease the strain between you two, but guess not.
Just as you're about to say something to her–maybe an explanation as to why you’re holding Daisy’s hand–Daisy gives a playful tug on your hand, breaking the moment. “Come on,” she chirps. “Let's head in. I heard there's pizza, and I intend to eat more slices than you.”
You allow Daisy to pull you along, throwing one last glance at Wanda over your shoulder, wishing she'd say something–anything. 
But Wanda's back is already turned to you. Her posture rigid, fists clenched at her sides, the knuckles going white. In that moment, Wanda is making a silent vow to herself, one of emotional self-preservation.
She walks away, her heels clicking against the ground with each firm and decisive step. Deep down, the walls she'd slowly been dismantling brick by brick in the face of a potential future with you were being hastily reconstructed. 
She’s survived worse things.
Of course, she’ll survive you.
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i know there's so many interpretations of the proxy trio of masky/hoodie/toby as best friends or lovers which. valid. there are many possibilities there. but have you also considered: they're coworkers that absolutely fucking hate each other. i'm talking a "have to talk themselves down from brawling every other mission" ass trio. the only reason they haven't killed each other is because their boss won't fucking let them quit this shit ass job
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messedupfan · 9 months
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Chapter 5
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Summary: Reader and Wanda hang out together with some of their friends and get to know each other a bit better.
A/N: So sorry for the late chapter but this thing is almost 7k words and it was very difficult to find a stopping point. Chapter 6 is most likely going to be late as well, hopefully I can get back to my schedule. Thank you all for your patience and for reading. I truly appreciate all of you! Enjoy!
Masterlist | All Chapters | All Stories Taglist
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Spending a week in the woods, camping with Rachel, has been a tradition since she could walk. Jean only participated in the first two. After the divorce you weren't sure you wanted to keep the tradition but Jean made a few good points on why you should continue it. Now, years later, it's the best way that you get to bond with Rachel beyond the distracting devices and all of her shows and music. You do your best to keep up with all of it but she is constantly changing. You encourage it, of course. But it's hard to feel connected with your daughter. Except on these trips. 
You rent the same spot every year. The two of you build the tent together and make it cozy inside. Then you set up the fire pit and she finds the best spots for the chairs. The two of you make food together over the fire. Tell jokes and scary stories. Remain completely unplugged for the entire trip. At night she snuggles close and you cherish the way she holds you tight because you know there will be a day a few years from now when she won't. She'll be upset with you because you'll be upset with her. Things will get tough, as they do with growing up, and you won't get as many hugs as you do now. And she'll continue to grow up and find her own way in life and her snuggles and these camping trips will be nothing but a distant memory. 
Between meals the two of you make up games, talk to each other, and you teach her what you can think of at the moment.  The two of you swim in the lake nearby and have fun splashing each other. A dog runs up to her when she’s eating her food and you already know that she's going to start asking for a dog. Luckily, you're able to convince her that she's still too young for one. 
All too soon, it's Friday morning and the two of you are packing up the campsite. It's sad putting away the fun week but it's what has to be done. Once your truck is packed up, you hit the road and she's finally able to use her phone again. The entire drive home she is blasting her favorite songs and singing at the top of her lungs. Once you're back in town you're reminded of your plans and at a stop light you message Wanda to see if she's still up for drinks. You don't get a reply until you're pulling up to your apartment building. 
Too nervous to check, you unload the car and get Rachel comfortable before you check your messages. I’ll see you at seven? Your shoulders drop from the relief. You call your sister, Kate, and ask if she can babysit for a couple of hours. 
“Oh… does someone finally have a date?” She inquires and it makes you roll your eyes. 
“No, I'm just grabbing drinks with some friends,” you clarify. 
“You’re so boring,” she groans. “Alright, I'll babysit. I don't mind spending some one on one with my favorite niece!”
“She’s your only niece,” you laugh at her enthusiasm. 
“Exactly,” she says. “I’d have other favorite nieces, maybe even nephews, but no. You refuse to make anymore.”
“Gross, you do realize that you're upset with me for not getting laid, right?” The line goes quiet and you wonder if she's even there anymore. “Hello? Kate?”
“I’m here, I just had to go scrub my brain with bleach to remove the last few minutes from my memory.” She says nonchalant, as if that was the most normal thing to do. “Anyway, I'll be there in a few. You better leave me some money for food.”
“Of course, I'll see you in a bit. Thank you so much,” you say your goodbyes and hang up. You walk to Rachel’s room and knock on her door and enter once she says you can. “Hey kiddo, aunt Kate is coming over to watch you for a bit. I have something… I mean I will be… uh, I have to do something.” You cringe at how you’re fumbling telling her that you’re going out. Normally, to avoid this, you would plan to do something on a night you don’t have her. But you only have yourself to blame for this. 
“Okay, have fun,” she says as she scrolls through her phone. 
“Okay,” you almost want to laugh at how easy that was. “Okay,” you repeat yourself. “I’m going to shower so can you let your aunt in if she gets her before I’m out?” 
Rachel nods, “Yeah no prob, now go! You don’t want to smell gross for your date.”
“It’s not a date,” you clarify and Rachel mutters something to herself that you can’t decipher but decide you don’t want to know anyway. “Please don't ever grow up,” you say with a smile and she looks up at you with big eyes like her mother. 
“I have to someday,” she says seriously and it crushes something in you. As a parent, that is possibly the best and worst response to ever hear. “Now go, please,” she says with a small wave of her hand. 
You finally leave her room, closing the door to the point that it's left to a crack. Just to mess with her a little. Then you head to the shower because you haven't had a proper one in several days. Your daughter is right, you do smell pretty gross. When you step out you hear your sister and Rachel laughing at something playing on the television. You finish getting dressed and when you walk out with a smile to greet the two girls they look up at you with horror. 
“What?” You ask as you look at your t-shirt and jeans. Your usual attire. 
“Is that what you're wearing?” Kate asks as she slowly eats the popcorn from the bowl between her and Rachel. 
“Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?” You laugh at their judgmental eyes. 
“Nothing, it's just so… you,” Kate replies with disgust. 
“That’s a bad thing?”
“No,” she pauses as she continues to look you up and down. “It’s just not a good thing.” 
You shake your head with a laugh, “Gee thanks, little sis. But it's nothing to get bent out of shape over. It's just drinks with some friends. I highly doubt Steve or Phil are going to have anything to say about my outfit.” You grab your jacket and put it on despite Kate's commentary about not wearing it. “What? I checked the weather.  It might rain tonight.” 
“I’m sorry, Rach. You’re not going to get another step-mom anytime soon,” Kate says. 
Rachel is hardly paying attention to the conversation anymore so when her aunt speaks to her it takes a moment for her to respond. She shrugs, “It’s okay, Ms. Wanda likes their work uniform. She won’t mind this, I guess. I just thought she deserved better from them.” 
“Oh, she has a name? And she knows Rachel?” Kate says in surprise, happy to be getting the good details now. “This must be serious.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose as you shake your head. “No, it’s not. I’m not dating anyone, Kate. Stop encouraging this kind of behavior.” You say, frustrated from having to repeat yourself constantly. You never liked this kind of teasing. It makes you uncomfortable and feel like you have something to prove. Besides, it's not fair to the other person who can't defend themselves. You grab your wallet, phone, and keys. “I don't have cash on me so I’ll send you the money for dinner. Thank you for watching her.” You say as you get a text from Wanda that she's already at the bar and sends you her location to double check that it's the right one. You send her a thumbs up. “I’ll be right around the corner so if there's any kind of emergency do not hesitate to call. Okay?”
“Of course,” Kate says. She hands Rachel the bowl of popcorn and gets off the couch. She stands in front of you and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m sorry, I know I tease you a lot but… I just want you to be happy.”
You hold your sister for a second and pull away and smile at her. “I am happy, kiddo. You don't need to be in a relationship to find happiness.” 
She pats your check with a fake expression of pity. “Oh, you are so single. It's sad.” 
You shake your head with a hearty laugh. “Whatever, weirdo.” You step away from her and go to join Rachel on the couch to give your daughter a hug. “I love you, nugget. I'll see you in the morning.”
“Morning? You’re going to be out all night?” She asks in surprise. 
“No, sweetheart. You’ll be in bed by the time I come home.” You tell her with a soft laugh. “I’ll be back here tonight and will be making your favorite breakfast in the morning. Don’t worry.” You tap your finger to her nose and she scrunches her face with a giggle. 
“Okay, have fun!” She gives you one last side hug, careful to not spill the bowl of popcorn. 
Finally, you leave the apartment building and walk a few blocks down to your favorite bar. You used to work there when you turned twenty-one and learned many skills that you don’t use anymore unless it’s to try and impress someone you’re interested in. Especially since the owner has a soft spot for some of his former employees and will let you behind the bar to let you do a trick or two. 
Walking inside The Hub you grow nervous because this will be the first time you and Wanda intentionally hang out together. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to talk about. What if there is nothing to talk about? How are you supposed to continue to go to her house and eat her food if she hates you after this? Steve is sitting at the bar talking with Phil. You met Steve when working here, he was the one who trained you in mixology. 
Steve served in the military before you met him here. His usual story is that he only enlisted because he didn’t have a direction at eighteen and needed something to help him make good money early in life. The real story is that he spent the majority of his life training to be in the military. His entire family is in the military, it was all he knew. But once he was actually in battle he realized that life wasn’t for him. When he finished his six year commitment to the Marines, he didn’t renew his contract and hasn’t spoken to his family because of it. To say they didn’t approve would be an understatement.  
“Rogers!” You greet him happily. You do a quick handshake and pull each other into a half hug. “It’s been a while, I’m glad you could make it out.” You sit next to him. 
“I’ve been good, Peggy and I just got a place together,” he says with a grin as he takes a sip from his beer. 
“That’s awesome man,” you congratulate him. 
“Wow, it’s like I don’t exist,” Phil says as he sets a glass down in front of you and pours your favorite drink for you. 
“I was going to get to you,” you laugh at his impatience. “How’s it been, Coulson? The place looks busy. I can’t even find the person I invited out.” You look around to find Wanda and her friend but have no luck from where you’re sitting. 
“Yeah, business has been good,” he says with a frown as he throws his rag over his shoulder. 
“Why does that sound like it's a bad thing for you?” Steve picks up on the bar owner's mood. 
Phil leans on the bar and sighs. “My daughter is home for the summer and she needed a job but no one was willing to hire her so I thought what’s the worst that could happen? Turns out, it’s this.” He points to the crowd of guys that keep looking over at the bar to catch a glimpse of Phil’s daughter and you laugh as you realize that the ratio of males to females is not what you’re used to at this place. 
“Where is she?” Steve asks and you nudge him as you shake your head. “What? I just want to see her. It’s been a while. Geez, I’m in a committed relationship, Y/n.” 
Phil looks at Steve, “No one is seeing my daughter tonight. She isn’t scheduled to come in. I’ve made sure to give her all Friday’s to Sunday’s off.” He says proudly. You point out the room full of customers that don’t know and he laughs. “I’m not going to tell them that. I still need to keep this business afloat.” You nod with a smile as someone comes up from behind him and you recognize her from the photos that Phil has in his office. She is much more mature now than she is in those photos and you can see why she draws in a crowd. You clear your throat to get Phil’s attention and point her out to him. He spins around. “Daisy! I gave you the day off! Why are you here?” 
“Calm down, Grant asked me to cover his shift. Besides, these are the busiest nights and I can make great tips,” she explains as she ties her apron on. Her and Phil have a quiet argument and you and Steve watch in amusement. 
As guys come to crowd the bar you and Steve step away and you are reminded why you’re there in the first place. She is across the room, sitting in a booth in the corner chatting with her friend. Wanda looks up and the two of you make eye contact and you smile as you grab Steve’s attention. A soft blush warms her cheeks and she looks away from you. “There she is,” you tell him. Steve isn’t sure who you’re looking at so he lets you lead the way. You join her and her friend in the round booth. “I’m sorry it took so long to find you. This place isn’t usually this busy. Believe me, I used to make the worst tips here.” 
Wanda laughs, “Okay, I’ll just have to take your word for it.” The two of you stare at each other for a moment. Not sure how to act around each other in this setting. She takes a drink from her cup and points to her friend. “This is my best friend, Carol Danvers. She’s in the Air Force.” You reach your hand across the table to introduce yourself, mentioning that it was an honor to meet her.
“An honor?” Steve scoffs in offense. “I served six years and you never said it was an honor to meet me.” 
“That’s because you’re a nightmare,” you retort. 
“I will have you know, I am a delight,” Steve defends himself. “I’m Steve Rogers by the way.” He offers his hand to Wanda first then Carol. “I know, it's an honor to meet me.” The girls laugh at his joke and you shake your head. 
You turn to Wanda, “I’m sorry about him. Now you can see why I'm in search of some new friends.” 
Wanda nods with her eyebrows raised, “I won't lie, I half expected you to bring Rachel's mom or my brother.” She admits in a laugh. “So, how'd the two of you meet?” 
“Here,” you state as you sip your beverage. “We used to work together here.” You tip your glass to her friend who is engrossed in a conversation with Steve about basic training and sharing war stories. “How did the two of you meet?” 
Wanda looks at Carol and then looks back at you. “We met at a party in high school,” she shrugs. “We didn't go to the same school, we just knew a few of the same people and became friends that way.”
“Oh that's cool. Which high school did you attend?” Wanda tells you about the high school she attended in another state. Then she goes into how she made her way out here. That she got into the university here and that's where she met Vision. How she got into architecture. She talks about how her parents weren’t ever married and that her father moved out here when she was in middle school. Which is part of what influenced her choice in university. Explains how Pietro followed along shortly after and worked under their father to prepare to take over the construction business for him. 
Before she can continue on with her life story, Daisy comes over to the table with a notepad and a few menus. “So my dad is having a bitch fit and now I'm your personal server tonight. Here,” she tosses the menus onto the middle of the table. “I will be back every five minutes. Go.” She walks away and you laugh. 
“The service is wonderful here,” Carol says sarcastically. 
“Oh yeah, definitely employee of the month,” Wanda chimes in and the two women share a look before laughing at each other. Steve makes a funny face to you and you shrug because you have no clue what their inside joke is. Wanda grabs a menu and turns to you. “What would you recommend?” 
“The loaded nachos and that’s it,” Steve cuts into the conversation. 
You nod, “Yeah, that’s the only thing that doesn’t go in the toaster oven.” 
“A toaster oven?” Wanda scoffs at the idea that an establishment would be allowed to get away with such a thing. But you nod, not showing any sign of the information being a joke. “Wow, okay. Loaded nachos then.” 
“My goodness! There you two are!” A woman says as she gets close to the booth. “I have been to three bars looking for you guys. What are we doing here?” She slides in next to you on the booth and she gives you a flirty smile. “Oh, hello,” she winks at you then she leans on the table to talk directly to Wanda. “Now I know why you were ignoring my texts.” She returns her attention to you, “Tell me cutie, are you single?” 
Wanda bursts out laughing at your uncomfortable expression as the strange woman strokes your arm. “Agatha, pump the brakes. This is the friend I told you about.” 
Agatha stops trying to flirt with you and her eyes widen. “Oh! You’re them! Oh, honey why didn’t you say anything,” She swats your shoulder as she lets out a boisterous laugh. Agatha holds her hand out to you, “Agatha Harkness, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 
You accept her hand and shake it quickly before dropping it. “Nice to meet you as well, I’m Y/n.” 
“Oh honey, I know who you are.” She directs her next words to Wanda. “You told me they were cute but you didn’t say they were hot!” 
You look at Wanda with raised eyebrows and a teasing smirk. “Yeah, explain yourself, Wanda.” 
Wanda opens and closes her mouth as she blushes. She knew she shouldn’t have used any sort of compliment as a descriptor. “I never said Y/n is cute.” She says as she points her finger at Agatha. 
“Right, you didn’t say cute,” Agatha gives her a big wink. 
“If it evens the score, Y/n told me that Wanda is very pretty,” Phil chimes in as he comes over with a tray of drinks. You had told him the kind of drink you wanted Wanda to try when you texted him earlier about being here. He said that he’d have them ready once you lasted more than ten minutes at the table with her. “If you ask me, Y/n is a little smitten.”
You shake your head, “It’s a good thing no one asked you then.” Steve makes an ooh sound, Carol laughs and Wanda appears a little impressed. “Thank you, Phil. I appreciate everything you do.” You rush out with an apologetic smile. 
“You’re lucky I know you,” he says after he clears the tray. “Otherwise I’d pay Steve here to throw you out of here.” 
“Oh please, you wouldn’t have to pay me.” Steve says as he grabs his glass, “I’d gladly do it for free.” 
You nod your head, “Yup, these are the people I call my friends.” 
The two men laugh and Daisy returns to the table. “Know what you want yet?” She asks with her notepad and pen ready. 
“Two orders of loaded nachos please,” Steve says. “And a side order of your number,” he winks. Phil smacks the back of Steve’s head. “Ow! I was joking!”
“Behave, I won’t tell you twice,” Phil says unamused while the rest of you try to not laugh. 
Steve salutes him, and then looks at Daisy. “I’m sorry, we’ll just have the nachos, please.” 
The night continues like that, with humorous bits and teasing. Daisy returns every few minutes to check on the table and you order a couple rounds of shots that you want Wanda to try.  You watch her to see if she likes them and when she makes a comment about how you know good drinks Steve points out that you have a home court advantage. To which Carol suggests a change in venue for an even playing field. You pay for the nachos and some of the drinks as Wanda refuses to let you cover the entire bill. 
As you’re leaving The Hub, Daisy pulls you aside while everyone else walks out. You look at her confused and she writes her phone number on a paper in the notepad. She rips it out and slips it in your pocket with a sultry, “Call me.” You find the gesture to be a little funny but you don’t reject her right there. You figure that you’ll probably never use the number. Out of respect to her father and to her. You thank her and walk out the door to catch up with your group. 
As they’re walking Wanda thinks of something to ask you and turns around only to find you missing from the group. She looks around and sees the interaction between you and Daisy through the window. Her eyes widen when she sees the girl stick her fingers in your front pocket. She feels a pang of jealousy but she isn’t sure that’s exactly what she is feeling. Maybe she was feeling off from all of the alcohol they were mixing. Why would she be jealous of you getting some girl's number? You seemed close with her father, so you could be receiving that number for any reason. And yet, she couldn’t shake the fact that seeing that intimate interaction bothered her. When you appear in front of her asking where the five of you are headed off to next, she has to snap herself out of her head. She shrugs because she was so focused on herself that she wasn’t paying attention to the rest of them.
Steve points to a place a few buildings down that the group of five make agree to and their way over. This place was more of a nightclub and there is a crazy long line to get inside which you were completely fine with. It gave you some time to talk with Wanda while waiting. She asked you a lot of questions this time, to get to learn more about you. All you talk about is how you’re from this city and go into the details of your family. How you didn’t like being a child of a bitter divorce and that you wanted better for your daughter. Then you talk about the different types of jobs you’ve had since you were fifteen. And you reveal how you’re working towards a business degree at the community college because you’ve always wanted to start your own handmade furniture business. Steve hypes up your work when he overhears that part of the conversation. You awkwardly thank him and next thing you know, the five of you are inside the club. 
Once inside, you hate it immediately.  The music is loud making it difficult to hear. It’s hot and the air is thin. It was hard to breathe in anything other than the aroma of alcohol and the smell of other people’s sweat.  The place is full and cramped with sweaty bodies knocking into or grinding on each other which makes it hard to stick together. The flashing and rapidly moving lights are unpleasant and difficult to see through. Wanda grabs the collar of your shirt and roughly pulls you close so that you can hear her, “Can we leave?” 
You nod without hesitation and turn around to tell the rest of them that it’s time to go but Carol, Agatha, and Steve have disappeared in the crowd. Wanda grabs onto your jacket with a tight grip so she doesn’t lose you while you search for the other three. You spot Agatha first, she is grinning as she dances provocatively with some random man. Next you spot Carol smiling at a woman as she leans against the bar. Lastly, you find Steve getting excited about spotting a group of guys he recognizes. It’s as if those three were in this place for longer than a few minutes and made themselves very comfortable in the environment. 
You wrap your arm around Wanda’s waist to pull her close to talk, “I think we’re just going to have to wait outside for them.” Wanda nods and agrees telling you that she just wants to get out. You guide her through the many bodies that are colliding together as they dance to the booming music until the two of you are finally outside. “Oh my goodness I never thought I was going to breathe fresh air again!” You exaggerate once you’re free. 
Wanda laughs, “Oh man I had no idea that’s what those were like! I don’t really see the appeal of a place like that!” 
“We’re not drunk enough to enjoy it,” you shrug. 
“I guess not,” Wanda looks at you. “Were you a person that could handle a club like that?” 
You look back at the building and know that there are photos of you in that place somewhere online so there was no point in lying, it was a part of your life that you’re not proud of but a part no less. You nod, “Before my divorce, no way. I was a full-time parent and spouse. After my divorce however…” you drag out as you’re not sure how else to put it. Wanda nods in understanding but you feel like you still have to explain yourself. “Those first few weeks with no family to come home to were so lonely. I’m sure you know how it is. That quiet and isolation is so suffocating. So, yeah, I lost myself in a place like this.” You think back on that time and your reaction to going into that place back then is very different from how you reacted just now. “It’s been a while though and honestly, I cannot tell you how I did it. I don’t know how they’re doing it now!” 
Wanda laughs in agreement, “I guess it’s fun for some people. A nightmare for others. And an escape for those who need it.” 
“That’s an interesting observation,” you say. “Did you ever do stuff like this before having the boys?”
Wanda makes a face and looks back at the building then back to you, “No,” she drags the word out.“It always seemed like my worst nightmare and well… I was right.” 
You nod, “Yeah, it doesn't seem like your kind of thing. Sorry about that, I probably should have shut this idea down.”
“Don't be, I could have said something, I mean we were waiting in line for like an hour. I was curious and now I'm not.” She says with a shrug. Wanda looks around the street and spots another bar with a calmer setting that also has an outdoor option. “Want to go there?” She points it out and you look it over a bit. If you get a spot close to the railing, Steve and the girls will be able to see the two of you from the club when they exit. 
“Sure,” you offer your elbow for her to take. Wanda accepts it and makes a comment about chivalry and you laugh. The two of you cross the street and enter the establishment. It’s the type of place where you have to wait to be seated. So you tell the hostess two for outside and she grabs a couple menus and leads you to the empty corner table you had spotted from the club. You thank her and pull the chair out for Wanda, she looks at you funny. “What? You’re the one who said chivalry wasn’t dead. I have to continue to keep it alive.” 
“That’s too bad,” she pulls the other chair out, “because now it’s my turn.” She pats the back of the chair, “Have a seat, Y/n.” You look at the gesture and happily accept it. Wanda walks around to claim her seat, “There, now we’re even.” 
“Are we? I wasn’t keeping score,” you open the menu and start to look it over. You have only been here a couple of times and are still relatively unfamiliar with what they carry.
Wanda sits there and stares at you for a moment as read the menu. Not knowing the impact your words had on her. Most of her life has been an ongoing score board. If someone did something nice for her she made certain to do something even nicer, expecting them to do something in return. That’s just how relationships and friendships seemed to happen in her life. It wasn’t until halfway through her marriage with Vision that she realized that behavior wasn’t exclusive to good deeds. The amount of bad things they did to each other until the end of it when Vision won and continues to win… Cracks are starting to break through the rose colored lenses. 
“Can I get you two anything to drink to start?” A handsome waiter with a winning smile asks, breaking Wanda out of her thoughts. You tell him that you’re going to have a glass of water and one of the local IPA’s. “And for the pretty lady?” The man doesn’t hide that he is checking her out and though Wanda is flattered by the attention, she wasn’t comfortable with it being from him. 
“I’ll just have water,” she says shyly. 
“Actually, cancel the IPA, I’ll just have the water,” you change your order. You don’t want to be drinking anymore alcohol if Wanda is stopping. “And I’ll add an order of the grilled bread and good olive oil.” You notice that the waiter isn’t taking his eyes off of Wanda and you notice how she seems to shrink under his gaze. “Would you like another appetizer, honey?” you clear your throat as you ask. Not comfortable with using the term of endearment. Wanda sits up as it sounds foreign from you but she notices that the waiter has finally stopped looking at her. 
“Oh um, yeah, babe, you know what I like,” she tries her best to play along as she looks over the appetizers. “You’re so silly, you know that I like the-the… oh! White truffle garlic bread. That’s what I’ll have. For us,” she reaches across the table for your hand, “to share.” You bite your lips to keep from laughing as you nod and throw in a wink. 
“Will that be all for now?” The man’s flirty demeanor has changed to a more professional one and you know that although the both of you are horrible at pretending, you’ve been able to pull it off. 
“Yes, that’s all for now, thank you,” you say politely. He walks away and once he’s gone, you can’t help but laugh a little. “Oh I think we hurt his feelings.” 
Wanda smiles and hums, “That’s what he gets for being creepy.” She removes her hand from yours. “Thank you for that, by the way.” 
You wave her gratitude off, “It’s nothing. He should be focused on his job and not making his customers uncomfortable.” 
Wanda crosses her arms and leans on the table, “Did you ever pick anyone up when you were a bartender?” 
You laugh and shake your head, “No, I was still married when I started the job and then I was enjoying being out of a relationship when the divorce happened. I got to learn a lot about myself in that time.” 
“Have you dated since your divorce?” 
“I have been on a few dates. But I haven’t committed to a relationship since Jean,” you admit. “And it’s not because I still have feelings for her. Things between us ended for a reason and we’re still friends. That’s what we were always meant to be. But I haven’t met someone that I could introduce to her.” 
Wanda makes a face, “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, when she started dating, she kind of made up a system to weed out the people she wasn’t sure if they would work out or not. If she didn’t think she could introduce them to me without a doubt that I would be comfortable with them being around Rachel, then she wouldn’t pursue it. Now she’s happily married to the woman of her dreams,” you elaborate. 
“Huh,” Wanda says. The waiter returns with a pitcher of water to fill two glasses and the two plates of appetizers. When he disappears she continues the conversation. “I’ll probably be single forever then,” she says before she drinks her water. 
You laugh as you chew on the bread, “Oh yeah, that system is not designed for people like Vision.” 
Wanda shakes her head, “Nope. I’m sure he already has a file of every bad thing you’ve ever done prepared for drop off on Sunday.” 
“Oh gosh, so you’re saying I shouldn’t have accepted that follow request from hotgurl69?” You say with a smirk. 
Wanda stops chewing and stares at you with uncertainty, “You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not,” you grin as you pull out your phone to show her the obviously fake account that followed you during the week. It had a couple of posts of an objectively attractive woman but not someone that is your type. You hand it to Wanda and she shakes her head in disbelief as she looks it over. “I didn’t actually allow the account to follow me but oh that was something to see when I got back.” 
“He is a nutjob,” Wanda says under her breath. She blocks the account just for her sanity. “I am so sorry about that,” she returns your phone to you. “That’s ridiculous, he is such a child.” 
“There you guys are!” Carol says with a girl under her arm. “These are my friends. That’s Wanda and that’s… Wait. What’s your name again?” She points to you and you smile as you introduce yourself to the girl. 
“Hi, I’m Maria Rambeau,” she says with a grin. “It’s nice to meet you guys!” 
“Likewise,” Wanda smiles. 
“We’re about to head out, I just thought I’d tell you so you didn’t assume the worst. Also, Agatha went home with some Ralph guy. I don’t know. But have fun,” Carol waves as she walks away fast so that Wanda can’t convince her to stay. You and Wanda laugh as the group has gone their separate ways for the night. 
You look at your phone to send a message, “I should probably check on Steve and oh! His girlfriend had an emergency and he went home.” You close the phone and put it in your pocket. “I guess it’s just you and me, that is unless you’re ready to go home.” 
Wanda looks at the half eaten bread on the table, then to the busy street full of people walking by and businesses that are alive, and then at you. Smiling at her with kind eyes that make her feel special. Eyes that make her nervous in the best possible ways. “No, I’m okay to stay a little longer,” is what she wants to say. But she isn’t sure what would happen if she did stay. How would the night end with just the two of you past this point? Would the two of you go on a stroll and continue to talk? Will there be a moment where the two of you get swept up by some romantic setting and she does something stupid like kiss you? She doesn’t want to risk this growing friendship for something so silly. Besides, you and her brother will be at her house tomorrow fixing her wall. She has already looked foolish in front of you plenty of times in the few weeks that you’ve known each other. She doesn’t need to add to that list tonight. 
“Actually, I am a bit tired. Knowing Pietro, I’ll be waking up at six in the morning to let him in,” Wanda explains. “This was really nice, thank you for inviting me out. I haven’t had the courage to do something like this in a while. We should do it again sometime.”
“Yeah, and hopefully something that keeps everyone interested and engaged,” you reply. “I’ll cover the bill, we don’t want to give prince charming over there any reason to make some move on you because I can’t pay for your meal,” you say as you pull out your card.
“Ah well, it’s only appetizers,” she remarks. “If I were him, I’d probably say something about the lack of a three course meal.” 
“Oh, no worries,” you say as you wave the waiter over. “I’m two steps ahead of you.” The waiter approaches and you ask for the bill. He makes a face stating that you’ve only ordered appetizers. “Yeah, we got a call from the sitter,” you start and glance at Wanda to see her start to smile. “Six kids is a lot to handle for one person. We rarely ever get to have an uninterrupted evening like this,” you lie easily and Wanda tries to hide her amusement. 
“Yeah,” she adds with a disappointed sigh, “And can you believe we’re expecting seven and eight?” She reaches across the table again for your hand and squeezes it with excitement. 
The waiter's eyes widen, “Wow uh, congratulations! You could never tell. Since this was a celebration, you know what, the meal is on the house.” You are surprised and insist on paying but he clears the table and allows you and Wanda to leave without paying. 
The two of you walk to the end of the street where you’re headed in opposite directions. “My apartment is that way,” you point to the building you’ve called home for the past year and a half. Wanda nods as she makes a comment about the building looking nice. Then she turns and points to the parking garage where she parked her car. “I will see you tomorrow then,” you say awkwardly, not really sure how to end the night. 
“Tomorrow,” she repeats, “Goodnight, Y/n.” Wanda walks away and you head home after bidding her a goodnight as well.
When you walk in, the place is quiet other than the soft volume of the television that Kate is watching. “So? How’d it go?” she asks in a whisper. 
You shrug as you remove your jacket, “It was fun. Her friends ended up finding people to go home with and Steve had to head back to Peggy. Wanda and I got to spend some time alone and it was nice. Plus, do you remember Daisy? Phil’s daughter?” You are sitting next to your sister on the couch now. Kate nods as the name rings a bell. “Well she’s home from school and she gave me her number.” 
“Oh, she has had a crush on you forever,” Kate admits. 
You make a face, “Really?” You don’t want to believe your sister, especially not since she is constantly making comments on your lack of a love life. But it does explain why she made the move on you when you hadn’t shown any interest in her all night. “Oh well, I’m not going to call her anyway.” 
“Why not? Things go well with Wanda?” She tries to see if you’ll admit that there is anything more than friendship between you and Wanda and you roll your eyes at her attempt.
“You’re insufferable, you know?” Kate shrugs and asks again why you’re not going to use Daisy’s number. “One, it’s none of your business and two she’s Phil’s daughter. That’s weird, I consider him a friend. I can’t just date his little girl without him knowing. Then I can’t end things with her if he does. It’s way too complicated.” 
“Is it? Or are you making it complicated?” Kate challenges and not having the energy to even try to argue with her, you get off the couch. 
“I’m going to bed. You know how to use the pull out,” you walk to your room. “Goodnight,” you call out to her behind you.
Chapter 6
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smolvenger · 7 months
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i know u have been feeling stressed and hopefully this might make u feel better but for a request steve rogers x reader and theyre on their honeymoon
Hi there nonny!!!
Awww, I love that! Steve is the sweetest cinnamon roll so of course we have to write it!!!! This is so sweet, I have to!!! I hope you like it and it's accurate enough, it's my first time writing for him!
No warnings, just tooth rotting fluff!
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Honeymooning with America's Ass, Steve Rogers, would include...
Poor boy has never flown before so you have to arrange the details. Once you are packed up and ready to go, he is fascinated by a modern airport. You have to hold his hand so he doesn't get lose because he likes looking in all the shops and different restaurants!
You finally get in and he gets nervous when the plane takes off so you laugh and hug him. You go "darling...you fought Red Skull, but a plane going up makes you scared?!" teasingly and kiss his cheek.
It's a long flight so you show him how to watch movies and play games on the little device thingies that are on airplens and he stays awake the whole time playing on it.
So then you guys...spend the honeymoon in ITALY!!!!
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You go around to see such tall, ancient buildings. Far more ancient than Mr. Brooklyn has ever dreamt. At one point, the tour guide calls this building young since it was built in 1673 and he just stares dumbfounded!
But Steve would pick up Italian quickly. He likes calling you Italian terms of endearment like "mia/o carino/a" or "mia/o angelo/a" to make you smile.
Of course, he has to start the day by cuddling you! Though he is too excited to get up and can only take so much cuddling- like an excited puppy!
He remembers enjoying Italian places in Brooklyn when his mom and he would go to celebrate something. So he loves trying Italian cuisine. Telling you stories about his mother- and about how much she would have loved you.
He always holds your gelato like a gentleman <3 As tempted as he is, he never takes a bite of yours, he wants his new spouse to enjoy them.
However, at one point, a pickpocket creeps by you and grabs your wallet. You let out a shout and gasp as he breaks into a run.
Boy did that asshole make a mistake considering your supersoldier hubby.
Steve just fucking BOOKS IT. The pickpocket turns around and gasps. He tries to run, but Steve gets closer to him in a few steps and decks the guy until he falls easily, kicking him until he's flying like a soccer ball through the air. He then grabs your wallet throws the pickpocket to the cobbled ground and returns your wallet.
You go to all sorts of incredible art museums. Steve himself loves to doodle and when you take sitting breaks, he tries to make little copies of them. You put his hand gently over his and lean into his cheek as he does, holding his free hand.
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Of course, since a lot of Italian people tend to have darker hair, they make huge eyes at his blonde locks. Some even try to flirt with him, but he quickly pushes them aside to give you a hug or flash them the new wedding band, assuring you with small kisses. There are smiles and looks of jealousy- the incredibly handsome blonde man is your husband and yours alone, as you are his.
He talks to and befriends everyone. Old ladies in cathedrals praying and kissing their crucifix necklaces. Children running around streets and jumping sunburnt into the sea. Fellow tourists in wide hats and billowy shirts. Chefs of mom-and-pop shops with rosy cheeks and loud, boisterous voices and stories in every dish.
It only makes you love him more.
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tsuru88 · 1 month
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☆+.*Welcome to ToonTown*.+☆
*イラストの使用・転載禁止 / Any use or reproduction of these illustrations is prohibited.
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comicsiswild · 18 days
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Scooby Apocalypse (2016) #13
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