#limarieb wanda maximoff

[limarieb]

so high school

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Growing up, you could never understand how people your age were so romantically interested in other people. You begin to understand for the first time, however, when you encounter a certain Sokovian during your first semester of university.

Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, college!au, friends (?) to lovers, college au, making out, slight angst (but not really)

Word Count: 4.0k

Author's Note: everyone say thank you taylor swift for the spontaneous new fic! also this is lightly proofread, so edits might be made later oops

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Growing up, you never truly dated anyone. Sure, you had crushes on fictional characters in the media you consumed, and you allotted arguably too much time to admiring celebrities online; but, you never saw anyone in your personal life in such a light. At various hangouts and sleepovers over the years, you noticed just how much your friends discussed their love lives. Hushed whispers and sighs of the same phrase, “I really like them,” flooded your ears in the hallways at school. You had originally tried to join in on the conversations, not wanting to be excluded, but you simply couldn't engage in them wholeheartedly; eventually, the inability to relate began to upset you. You naturally boiled it down to something that must have been wrong with you — how could it possibly be normal to be like this when everyone else around you seemed to share these romantic sentiments?

Thankfully, you became completely preoccupied, both mentally and physically, by the prospect of university. By the time your junior year of high school had started, your love life — or lack thereof — no longer held too much importance to you. Instead of keeping whimsical love letters on your desk like others your age did, you opted to pile various books. From Camus to Aristotle, you discovered a deep fascination and affinity to the field of philosophy and the metaphysical discussions it posed. Therefore, when your senior year had arrived, you threw yourself head first into your studies, determined to build up your application in order to get into a top university.

After accepting your offer into one of the best philosophy programs in the nation, you anticipated your time at university, daydreaming about all of the things you would study and all of the people you would meet there.

But never could you have anticipated someone like Wanda Maximoff.

You had met her during one of your introductory courses in your first semester. Wanda was the type of person that, upon first glance, you would be scared. Not just because she was undeniably pretty, but she also had this stone cold exterior to her. Her lips were permanently etched into a slight frown, and she never really showed too much expression while she spoke during class. To put it simply, she intimidated you; so, you settled on admiring the brunette from afar (two seats up, one to the left — if you were to be specific).

Your plans changed, however, after the two of you got assigned to be partners for a class project. It was just a presentation, but it required you both to meet outside of class to work on it. You would be a liar if you said your heart didn't skip a beat at the thought of seeing Wanda outside of these four walls of your classroom, even if it was just to work on this assignment.

Seemingly unbothered by it all, she gave you her number for you to set up a date and time to meet. Her messages were all business, but they still made you feel like a dopey teenager every time her name showed up on your screen.

The day quickly came for you both to work on the presentation. Ultimately, you had settled on the two of you meeting in your dorm, which you made sure to deep clean before she came. You were not necessarily messy by any means, but the idea of Wanda, the most daunting person you could imagine, stepping into the safe space of your room made your blood run cold for some reason.

As Wanda knocked on your door, you rushed to open it. The two of you stood face to face for a moment, divided only by the doorframe. She still had her typical frown, but you noticed it shift into the slight uptick of a smirk. After a moment had passed, she finally broke the silence. "Are you gonna let me in, or...?" she asked, teasing you and your awkward nature.

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you stepped aside for her to enter, "Oh, right... Sorry."

You led her to your side of the room, where she stood for a moment analyzing all of your possessions. You felt small as she did so, like a tiny insect under a bright, unsettling microscope.

She suddenly turned to face you, dropping her bag on the floor, "So, are we gonna work on this or not?"

That is how you found yourself on the floor, her laying on her back and you on your stomach. You had your computer in front of you, typing furiously as she provided you the words and ideas. You glanced over at her every now and then, especially if she was being awfully silent.

Most times, she would just be looking up at the ceiling in thought, her brown hair sprawled in random patterns underneath her; however, after a particularly long bought of silence, you looked over at her to find her gaze directly on you. You quickly returned your eyes to the screen of your computer and began typing whatever came to your mind. You hoped she did not notice the blush rise to your face.

She did.

She sighed, turning her body to lay completely facing you. "You're very quiet, you know," she stated, closely observing your reactions highlighted by the light of your screen.

Unsure of how to respond, you simply say, "So I've been told."

"Oh," she exclaimed, her smirk from earlier returns. "She has jokes."

You hum in agreement, "Just a few, unfortunately."

With the project now finished, the two of you abandoned it in favor of simply talking to each other. Never would you have guessed that Wanda could be this... warm. Unlike what you had witnessed in the classroom, she was very friendly and sarcastic in the privacy of your dorm.

You discovered a lot of information about the brunette during this conversation, such as how she loved coffee but only if its iced, how she never loved texting (preferring to call or talk in-person) but will do so if she must, how she immigrated with her twin brother from Sokovia when they were children. As she recounted her memories from Sokovia, you could hear the accent she once had poking through the surface; although, you did not point it out, afraid it was an insecurity of hers. Maybe you would tell her another time how nice it sounded, but for now, you bonded with her about collecting CDs and vinyl records from various artists.

While the two of you casually spoke, all you could think about was her — how pretty she was under the dimmed lighting of your dorm, how every joke she told was the epitome of humor, how much you wanted to stay in this moment with her. She was perfect.

Is this what people were talking about in high school?

As the night came to an inevitable end, you found yourself feeling quite sad, for you no longer had an excuse to hang out with Wanda. Though she had her number, you did not have the confidence to use it and ask if she wanted to meet up again.

You did not have to worry too much about it. As she packed her belongings back into her bag, swinging it over her shoulder, she spoke, "You know, you're pretty cool, Y/N."

You tried to hide the shock caused by her words, "Thank you, I think?"

She chuckled lowly, "My friends are having this thing at my place this weekend, if you wanted to join?"

Your head perked up, eyes blinking rapidly in shock. Unable to deny her offer, you nodded, "Yeah, sure... okay."

“Great,” she replied, walking toward your door. You followed behind her and reached around to open for her. She smiled at the gesture before speaking again, “I’ll text you later with the details and everything. See you in class.”

“Yeah, see you,” you returned. As you closed door behind her, you feel your mind finally catch up to reality: you, the stereotype of a nerd with very few friends, are going to hang out with Wanda and her friends.

You close your eyes, leaning your head onto the back of the door. “Oh, shit,” you whisper aloud into the open air. What have you just gotten yourself into?

Decoding your own thoughts and feelings about the Sokovian in the days leading up to your next class had revealed just how infatuated you had become; yet, you didn't even know how to act upon them. For years, you had only observed romantic behaviors from the outside looking in, whether it be through your friends' dating experiences or the words on a page from whichever sapphic novel you had picked to read. Now that you finally found yourself in the loop, what were you supposed to do?

Should you message her about whatever? No, that would come across as needy and overbearing.

What if you found her after class and ask to hang out again? No, that's even more overbearing than the text message.

The internal war waged on, resulting in your mind and body being paralyzed out of anxiety. For now, you have settled on simply waiting for her message regarding this weekend and presenting your assignment with her this week during class.

Days later, you walked into the class, practically shaking from your nerves about the presentation and the girl that you had to present with (who had just so happened to become your first teenage crush over the span of weeks).

You sat down in your unofficially assigned seat. Being so focused on the way your leg bounced repeatedly, you failed to notice the familiar brunette enter the classroom. Instead of sitting in her typical seat, however, she dropped her bag on the floor by the seat directly next to you.

Wanda instantly noted your nervous demeanor. While she had her own anxieties regarding the presentation and such, hers remained within her mind. She never showed such things outwardly, unless she was with someone with who she felt undeniably comfortable expressing those thoughts.

She slid into the seat and reached over to place her hand on your bouncing leg. Immediately, you noticed the feeling of someone's hand, breaking the chain of your anxious thoughts; upon glancing to your side, you discovered the culprit: Wanda.

"Hey," she started. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise."

Unable to find the words currently, you opted to remain silent, but you provide her with a uncertain nod in return. With a squeeze of her hand as a final attempt at reassurance, she placed her hand back within her lap and waited for the class to begin.

As always, Wanda was right. Your presentation went well; there were a few instances of stumbling words on your part, but otherwise it went great.

When the two of you returned to your seats, she leaned over and muttered under her breath for you to hear, "Told you so."

As you began to do your typical nighttime routine that evening, you heard your phone go off. Unsuspecting to who it was, you tapped on the screen under the assumption that it was just another email added to your overflowing inbox. You were wrong yet again.

Wanda: hey y/n !! are you still able to make it to the thing this weekend?? its gonna be on saturday at my place... lmk !!

You stared at the message for a moment before confirming you would still be in attendance, of course. Was it normal for your heart rate to speed up this much from mere words on a screen?

Saturday night rolled around quicker than you had anticipated. It was almost time to leave, yet you were currently standing still in your pajamas, surrounded by the miscellaneous clothing items you had thrown around. Ultimately, you had settled on the outfit you had first chosen, resulting in a bunch of unnecessary cleaning afterwards.

When you arrived to her place, you promptly knocked on the door. A moment passed before the door creaked open to reveal the Sokovian. Her outfit was considerably more casual than others you had seen her wear around campus. She stood in front of you, adorned with an oversized band tee and jeans; her fingers were still littered with her usual assortment of rings. However, the thing that surprised you the most was her lack of makeup. Not that she needed it, of course; in fact, it was quite the opposite. Tonight she seemed to have abandoned her typical heavy eyeliner and rose-colored shade of lipstick, choosing to only use her mascara and some chapstick.

"Sorry for the jumpscare," Wanda joked, her nose scrunched in amusement from your reaction. She continued to explain, "I know I'm dressed down compared to class. I just don't like putting in the effort to get ready sometimes, especially to just hang out with friends."

"No!" you exclaimed, quickly trying to backtrack the way she took your shocked expression. "No, you're fine. You're beautiful, actually, I just- I was just surprised to see you without the eyeliner and all."

Her cheeks became flushed at the compliment, but you seemed to miss it being overly concerned with your own response. She chuckled at your awkwardness, "Thanks. Oh, you can come in, by the way. I think everyone is here now."

She introduced you to each friend, after which you gave an insecure wave in return.

As the night progressed, you gradually loosened up. Whether it was time or the alcohol in your bloodstream, it frankly did not matter to you. You were not drunk by any means but definitely buzzed enough to not worry about every single decision you made. You even talked to one of Wanda's friends, Natasha, for awhile without the Sokovian present (given that she had left to use the restroom, but it still counts in your mind).

Suddenly, you were sat on the floor, playing childish party games with the others. It was fun, you couldn't lie... until it wasn't. You had already survived Truth or Dare, but someone (Tony) had suggested Spin the Bottle. With no romantic history, it was practically a given that you subsequently had not kissed anyone yet. For your first kiss to be during a stupid game of Spin the Bottle would be depressing; but, you didn't want to be the loser who said no to playing because the reason would be too humiliating to explain.

So, you elected to power through the hesitation, hoping the bottle just would not land on you.

At first, you were confident. The game was now three rounds in, and you remained lucky.

Eventually, the group had noted your lack of participation and had chosen to give you a "free spin." You silently prayed it would at least land on someone with whom you had become somewhat acquainted. With a shaky hand, you reached forward, spinning the emptied beer bottle. In the moment, it felt like the bottle would never stop spinning, but, once it did, it felt like time froze altogether.

It landed on Wanda.

Though you liked the brunette, you truly did not want your first kiss to be this way, especially with her.

She instantly noticed your apprehension. Turning to where Tony sat in the circle, she offered, "Hey, what if we did a hybrid of this and Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

Your eyes widened at the question, feeling unsure about all of this.

With a smirk on his face, Tony agreed, "I like the way you think, Maximoff. Alright, new girl, go follow Maximoff, and don't have too much fun while you're gone."

Before walking off with Wanda to the nearest bathroom, she briefly turned around to aim her middle finger at the boy. Though you were extremely overcome with anxiety about what was about to occur in the bathroom, you released a chuckle at her response.

She pulled you into the bathroom, flipping the lights on. As the door clicked shut, you faced her with your back against the wall.

"So, um, what are we supposed to do?" you asked.

"We don't have to do anything, Y/N," she replied, leaning against the bathroom counter. "I just noticed you weren't very comfortable with the idea of kissing me out there, so I improvised a little bit."

"Oh, okay," you breathed out. "Just for the record, it was not the idea of kissing you that made me uncomfortable. You- You're cool, so, it's fine."

Wanda tilted her head in curiosity, clearly not expecting that response. "Oh?" she questioned. "What was it then? Because I could clearly tell you were not very comfortable in there... I mean, you were visibly stiff."

"It's not you, I just..." you looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

"'It's not you, it's me'?" she joked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes! No! I mean..." you exhaled. "It's not that the idea of kissing you makes me uncomfortable because, believe me, it very much doesn't. I just- I've never done this before."

The blood rushed to your cheeks during your admission. You felt utterly embarrassed, wishing you could just be back in your dorm in this moment.

"Y/N," she called softly. Despite every ounce of your body screaming at you to not do so, you returned your gaze to the Sokovian. "Do you want to kiss me?"

You couldn't read her tone. A part of you was nervous, maybe this was all some sick joke between her and her friends; yet, the other part of you was thrilled by the proposition alone.

"I wouldn't oppose," you muttered, automatically employing humor as your defense mechanism.

Wanda rolled her eyes at your antics, "Ok, then, let's play a new game." She looked down at her phone, checking the time. "We have less than four minutes in here."

Confused by the sudden change, you acquiesced in her request, "Okay?"

She stepped closer to you, standing a foot away.

Her tongue escaped her mouth, briefly licking her lips, before she proposed, "Are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me?"

Your eyes widened at the unexpected question, but you attempted to recover in order to return her playful energy, "Can I choose all three?"

Her eyebrow had risen, the infamous smirk forming on her lips. Slowly, she inched closer and closer to you until you could feel her breath on your skin. One hand found refuge on your hip, while the other she brought to the side of your face. She used her fingers to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear then cradled your face. You licked your own lips and closed your eyes in anticipation.

Then, you felt it. Her lips brushed against yours, softly and slowly as if she were testing the waters. It was only a peck, but you swear your heart burst from the experience.

A moment passed before she pulled away enough for her to speak.

"Was that okay?" she inquired, ensuring you were still interested in this.

"More than," you affirmed.

She smiled, "Good, because we still have a few minutes left, and I intend to use them."

Without another second, she connected your lips once again. This time was different, however; there was a newfound fervor behind it. Her kisses started slow like the initial pace, gradually becoming quicker and deeper. Uncertain about what to exactly do, you continue to follow her lead. You felt her slide her tongue across your lips, asking for entrance. How could you ever deny her that? As her tongue began to clumsily caress with yours, a familiar feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, but you ignored it and kept kissing her.

A knock at the door pulled you both back into reality.

"Time's up, lovebirds," the voice called. "Clothes better be on and straightened when you leave."

Wanda chuckled at her friend's words and bit her lip. For the first time, you think you see her outwardly nervous. She swallowed as she shifted her gaze from your lips to meet your eyes, "Hey, I um- I hope this wasn't a one time thing."

You sighed in relief, "With you? Never."

She leaned forward once more, placing a final peck on your lips before grabbing your hand to return to the circle. Instead of your prior placements on the floor, in which she sat on the other end, Wanda refused to let go of your hand, instead pulling you to where she had been sitting.

Thankfully, no one mentioned how your cheeks were now incredibly plagued with a pink hue, allowing the game to continue onward.

After the group decided to finish playing games and turn on a movie, you followed Wanda to the couch in order to sit next to her. As soon as you found your place at the end of the sofa, she gravitated closer, leaning into your side. Her head rested on your shoulder as if you both had been close for years.

The movie American Pie started playing, all of her friends too engrossed in it to note how the two of you were cuddled up together. She picked her head up from its place on your shoulder. You didn't think too much of it, imagining her neck must have simply gotten uncomfortable in that position.

However, she turned her head to face you, taking in the sight of you and her friends all hanging out and watching a movie. Unable to resist herself any longer, she leaned in closer, her breath hitting your ear as she whispered to you, "I can't focus on the movie. All I can think about is kissing you right now."

You rotated your head to face her, biting your lip at her words. "Shush, your friends are here," you quietly argued, but you were secretly enjoying her antics. You peered over her shoulder, observing her friends who sat quietly with their attentions fully focused on the film.

Wanda pressed a soft kiss to the base of your neck prior to returning to its original position on your shoulder. You sighed at the feeling of her affection, wondering if it would linger forever.

Soon enough, the movie ended, and it was time to go home for the night. Her friends had left moments ago, but not without saying how you should "come around more often." Honestly, you were deeply excited that you received their approval, especially after the recent developments with Wanda.

You stayed behind for a little, attempting to garner as much alone time with Wanda as you could without being interrupted.

With the others now gone, you allowed Wanda to be more affectionate; or rather, you allowed her to give in to her desires and kiss you again, and again, and again.

After the final peck, you pulled away with the cheesiest smile and swollen lips. She loved seeing you this way: giddy and carefree.

"I really like you, Wanda," you proclaimed with a sigh, effectively breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. "Like, a lot."

"I really like you, too," she replied. "You know, in case it got lost in translation with the kissing and everything."

You playfully slapped the side of her arm. "I'm serious," you started. "You make me feel so... high school."

She raised her brow, gesturing for you to continue.

You resumed, "I never felt like this, especially during high school. For a while, I actually thought something was wrong with me." Her lips formed a slight pout at your past conflict. "I was always so... jealous of others my age, having all of these teenage experiences with crushes and romance. Since I never did, I just assumed that it was my fault, that something was wrong with me. It was isolating; it felt like some inside joke that everyone else knew about except me. But, I'm happy I waited, truthfully, because now I can experience all of those high school feelings with you."

End.

#limarieb #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #marvel imagines #limarieb wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff

[limarieb-18]

was lifting at the gym today, remembered this video existed, n had the most sinful thoughts about cw!wanda…

[ wanda maximoff x fem!reader blurb below ]

[ 18+ | warnings: non-descriptive mentions of oral (w receiving), non-descriptive mentions of fingering (r receiving) ]

it starts off innocently: the two of you going to the gym together for your usual daily workout. since you started dating, you found that going together was a nice way to spend time together but still feel productive.

you like to begin with cardio (since it’s not your favorite most days, you like to get it over with as soon as possible), so the two of you typically begin on the treadmill with a steady jog. during the run, you both chat about whatever comes to mind, finding it makes the time go faster.

(in the meantime, you try to ignore the way her flushed cheeks and sweaty skin remind you of late nights with her in your bed — you between her legs, her hands tangled in your hair pulling you as close as possible. if you allow yourself to fully indulge in the thoughts, you swear you can hear her moaning your name.)

after you finish on the treadmill, you finally get to do exercises that you actually enjoy: weight lifting. though wanda prefers alternatives to lifting like boxing, she will never turn down the chance to see you strength training, with the way your muscles flex on each curl or the manner in which your brows automatically furrow together as you focus intensely on your form.

when you feel yourself getting tired in the middle of your last set, you sense a presence enter your mind: wanda. you don’t hesitate to drop any barriers, allowing her to enter it freely in order to communicate.

“don’t stop, detka,” she orders. “if you stop now, there’s no reward for you after.”

if your face was not already reddened from the exercise, it definitely was now. you simply nodded and finished your set with as much strength and haste as you could muster.

the two of you leave the gym in a blissful silence. although, wanda could tell you were anticipating the reward she had promised you; but, you knew better than to be a brat by pushing her to inquire further.

so, she drives you both back to your shared apartment. as she gets settled, dropping her keys on the counter, she can feel your presence — your eyes following every single one of her movements.

wanda loves how she does not even need to say anything, verbally or mentally, for you to know to remain quiet until she was ready. when she begins walking to the bathroom, you follow a few steps behind.

after stripping you both of your dirty, sweaty clothes, she takes your hands and brings you into the steamy shower. the water cascaded your skin as she pressed her lips to every inch of your body. her hands began moving south, gradually getting closer to where you needed her the most.

maybe you would continue going to the gym with her every day, even if the exercise and the rewards made your muscles a little sore.

#limarieb-18 #wanda maximoff #marvel #mcu #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #limarieb-18 wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader

[mionemymind]

Wait do u enjoy making us sad? This was great can’t wait for part 3 🤔 hopefully if not totally cool it is always up to u. And, Emma like Emma Frost would not mind exploring that possibility, she was one of many obsessions I had when I started reading comics. But there isn’t anyone quite like the Wanda Maximoff. A little fluff would be nice but who doesn’t love angst. Anyway have a lovely day and let’s see what u come up with on a full nights sleep.

-S

Are you in my house???? Because S, I literally thought of Emma Frost at first but I just stuck with the first name because details didn’t quite matter.

But Wanda Maximoff is my wife. The tattoo on my left bicep should prove that enough.

But now, I really need to focus on the @thatdudeusimpfor one shot request for F1 Driver!Reader.

And I also got inspired by @limarieb ‘s So High School to continue my College AU Wanda!

#s anon #ask #mionemymind response

[limarieb]

i come around (when you least expect me)

Pairing(s): emo!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: After a one-night stand during a party, you find yourself in an odd gray area with your best friend's sister. It just so happens that your best friend's sister is also the person that has been making your life a living hell for the last few years... all without your best friend knowing.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, mentions of drinking/parties, high school au, Wanda lowkey kinda mean but i SWEAR its lowkey, non-graphic scenes of kissing/making out (no smut... yet...?)

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: sorry for my lack of posting, but i promised it would come soon(ish)! here's that 100 follower special i promised — oh, and thank youuuu all for the follows and support... i love you all <3 (title from 'heartbeat' by childish gambino) ... also, requests/asks are still open!

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Pain. Throbbing, aching pain. The discomfort from your current hangover surrounded every inch of your mind, physically and metaphorically. Well, almost every inch... because memories from last night were finally reaching the surface now that you have awoken, conscious and, unfortunately, sober.

The sweet lips on yours.

The feeling of skin, hot and sweaty, against your own.

The perfect dichotomy of soft hands on your body as they gripped at your skin roughly, almost primal in nature.

And they all belonged to your best friend's twin sister.

You started to get ready for the day — whoever talked you into attending a party the day before the school year began should be arrested and fined for such a disservice.

Thankfully, you planned enough ahead to bring clothes to the twins' house for today. The outfit you had chosen was relatively casual: the worn-down, navy blue sweater that had been your father's during his college years and the comfiest pair of jeans you could find.

Venturing downstairs to the kitchen, you finally felt the extent of how poorly your stomach felt due to the heavy drinking from the previous night. You opted for something easy, pulling the first box of cereal that your fingertips touched out of the cabinet. You never liked cereal too much, but anything went during difficult times like these.

As you poured yourself a bowl of the bland cereal, footsteps sounded throughout the house. They were coming closer and closer to your location. You assumed it had been Pietro.

You were... close — it was her.

When you looked up from the bowl to see who the person was, you were displeased to find the girl standing there, simply observing you with a smirk on her face. It reminded you of the villainous expressions from the television: conniving and mischievous.

"Stop staring at me like that," you sneered, trying to keep your volume low enough that Pietro would not hear you but loud enough that she would sense the harsh seriousness of your tone.

Wanda maintained her gaze, simply tilting her head as if to challenge you, "Like what?"

"Like you know what I taste like."

The faux innocence in her expression slightly faltered. Her eyebrows rose, the shock from your words evident on her face. As Wanda opened her mouth to form another witty remark, the sound of a door opening made the two of you go effectively silent. Wanda looked toward the direction of the sound, awaiting his entrance in a way that demonstrated her indifference toward last night's events. You, on the other hand, completely averted your gaze from both of the twins due to the shame that coursed through your veins.

The rational part of your brain begged for you to tell Pietro about what happened last night; it would resolve the guilt that clawed at you with each passing minute, lifting the weight off of your shoulders entirely. Yet, each time that you began to plan the exact words of your apology, any ideas you had conjured seemed to fall short. It was not as if you could search the internet for a script concerning "how to tell your best friend that you mistakenly (but not so mistakenly that you stopped it) hooked up with his emo, bitchy twin sister at a party."

Your eyes swiftly returned to Wanda, watching her inch closer to where you stood by the counter. She reached her arm behind you, leaning in close enough that your breath mingled with hers. If asked, you would completely and utterly deny that part of your mind was anticipating the vibrant feeling of her lips on yours again; however, the fleeting glance at her lips revealed otherwise.

Wanda noticed. Of course, you would fall into her trap, and she noticed. She smirked in response to your reaction before leaning away and taking a few steps back. A banana was in the hand that had been behind you. Scoffing at yourself, you cannot believe that you let her tease you again.

"See you at school, Y/N," she declared with narrowed eyes, looking you up and down once more before waltzing out of the front door.

You took a deep breath, attempting to recuperate your mind for the day ahead of you. As soon as Wanda had left, Pietro walked into the kitchen, ignorant of what had just occurred.

Standing still as if in a daze, you could only sense Pietro race around the kitchen, grabbing various items he needed for the day ahead. After a few minutes, he slowed to a stop after closing the door to the fridge. He must have sensed your unusual stillness, then he asked, “You okay? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shakily nodded. “All good,” you forced yourself to stutter out. Not even you believed your words, but it seems as if Pietro was too busy in his own world to truly notice the lack of honesty in your reply. “I’m all good. Now come on, we’re gonna be late.”

The two of you scurried out the door in the hopes that you had not missed the bus. It was a bad habit that you both had been trying to break for years now but remained relatively unsuccessful.

As the two of you approached the classic, yellow school bus that sat on the corner of the street, Pietro raced ahead in order to save you the extra minute of running. He gracefully entered the bus, climbing its stairs with ease; meanwhile, you were audibly out of breath and tried to ignore the glances the bus driver gave to the two of you.

Pietro, like most mornings, found himself sitting with some of his friends from the cross country team, leaving you to fend for yourself. You quickly scanned the bus for an empty row so you could sit by yourself, but you quickly realized that was a luxury you could not afford after such a late arrival. While you could not find an empty row, you were about to find a single empty seat towards the back of the bus.

You shuffled your feet to the empty seat but stopped as soon as you noticed its other inhabitant: Wanda.

Bile suddenly formed in your throat at the thought of having to spend more time with her — more specifically, without her brother, your friend, and coincidentally the only person to keep her dangerous, spontaneous nature in check, present. You approached her, simply attempting to take the bus ride silently and one minute at a time. You swore to yourself internally that you would not respond to her, irrespective of whatever she may say or do.

The bus slowly pulled away from the stop and started its route toward the high school. For the first few minutes, everything seemed to be going unusually fine. Wanda sat silently beside you, wired earphones trailing from her phone to her ears. As her gaze remained fixed toward the window, you wonder if she had even noticed that a person had now occupied the seat next to her, let alone that person being you.

You naively took her initial lack of response as a victory. With a sigh of relief, you allowed your body to relax in the seat and closed your eyes for the remainder of the ride.

Then, you felt something.

The brush of something on your thigh.

You opened your eyes to scope the scene, making sure you had not imagined the sensation; however, it seemed to be just that: nothing. The only thing positioned in your lap was your backpack filled with your books for the upcoming year. You closed your eyes and began to drift away once again. Maybe you were going crazy, you pondered. (Maybe you could blame your irrational behavior last night on such insanity. Would the insanity defense work for things like that, too?)

Then, you felt it again.

Without much hesitation, your eyes shot open once more. Only this time, you were met with the sight of a hand, decorated with several rings and chipped, black nail polish, situated comfortably, almost possessively, on your upper thigh. You peered toward Wanda's face, which was still facing the opposite direction, attempting to gauge her reaction. Yet, you saw nothing; her expression was rather unchanged, leaving you more confused than anything.

Before you could think about what to do about the situation, the bus drove over a mountainous bump on the road. You internally cursed the local government officials for the obstacle, for whether it occur by accident or intention, Wanda's hand flew directly into the apex between your thighs. Eyes widened in shock, your lips drift open as you gasp from the sensation.

It finally gave you the courage, however, to shove her hand away, but not without seeing the signature smirk she acquired in the process. Anger began to boil inside you. You repeated to yourself that it was because the brunette's touches were unexpected — not that she had been victorious. In the end, you just silently thanked yourself that you had chosen jeans, or else that could have ended much differently knowing the Sokovian.

Days turned into weeks, each bringing the routine of snide comments and less-than-playful banter between you and Wanda. You still had not found a way to enlighten Pietro about your issues with his sister (both the endless torment and... that night), given that (1) she was his twin sister and (2) she always seemed to be around. The cynical part of your brain believed that her unusual proximity was purposeful — she probably just wanted to see the fallout.

While the two of you had not gone further than your typical banter again over the past few weeks, though, you still felt incredibly agitated. (You chalked it up to anger because it definitely could not be the possibility of pent-up sexual frustration between the two of you.)

However, one day differed from the rest.

You noticed early in the day that Wanda was being extraordinarily quiet. Part of you was thankful, praying that her silence would continue until the end of the school day.

It was a Thursday in late October. Like most days, you followed Pietro to his home after school, venting to him about how you were excited it was Friday tomorrow because you were simply over all of the midterms being assigned and just wanted time to relax.

(You continued to ignore the underlying guilt that sat in the pit of your stomach from remaining silent about everything that happened with his sister weeks before; you attempted to ignore it even more by rationalizing your silence, stating it was "only one time" and a "mistake that would never even happen again.")

As you entered the house, Pietro immediately drops his bag on the floor and runs up to his room. You rolled your eyes at this typical, teenage-boy messiness, and opted to place your bag on the hooks that Agatha designated for such items.

Feet padding across the wooden floors, you wandered into your happy place of the home: the kitchen. You opened the fridge, looking for a small snack that could satiate your hunger until dinner. Finding nothing of interest, you closed the door. Your body jumps, though, at the figure that had been hiding behind it: Wanda.

The patience you once had had officially worn invisibly thin.

“What the fuck, Wanda? What do you want from me?” you asked exasperatedly, the energy you once had for such shenanigans having become completely depleted after a difficult week of school. "Listen, I don't know what I ever did to you for you to treat me like this, but I'm over it."

“Are you…” She started but quickly cut herself off. Her head tilted, trying to figure out if you really did not know the answer. You noticed the way her mouth opened and shut out of pure bewilderment; while you normally would make a comment about it in an attempt to tease her in return, you figured now was not the time. When Wanda found no evidence of lies in your expression, she continued to speak, “You really don’t remember, do you?”

You threw your head back, a chuckle escaping from the back of your throat, primarily due to the exhaustion caused by this long-awaited conversation. “No, Wanda, I don’t remember! If I had, don’t you think I would have apologized by now! Don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, I would have given you an “I’m sorry” so we could have avoided all of this? So that I would not have to deal with your bullshit for the past decade? So tell me, Wanda, what did I do to deserve this?”

“First day of school. Second grade. Recess," she spat out. Her words were so quiet but uttered with such venom.

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the seemingly random series of words, "What?"

She rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated with your lack of memories. While you could not remember what made her act this way, it had evidently stuck with her for years.

"It was my first day at this school," she began, her expression turning from red, hot anger into a stoic and collected nature. "Pietro and I had just moved to the States after losing our parents a few months before. Agatha was the only family member, albeit a distant family member, who was alive and willing to take us. So, we left everything behind and moved here."

You already knew the majority of this information, mostly after hearing it in brevity from Pietro. He had never truly talked about his time in Sokovia in depth, finding it distressing and uncomfortable to recall. You only discovered this one day when you both were 9, and you had followed him to his house after school for a play date. In a state of innocent curiosity, you asked him why he called (what you had assumed to be his mom) by her first name upon entering the house. He explained the basics, and that was the end of that. You understood and respected his quietness on the subject since then.

"Pietro has always been the better twin — better at school, better at sports, better at making friends. And, I'm just... me. So, he has always been better at the whole 'socializing' thing, even as an immigrant child with little knowledge of the States. Everybody seemed to like him, I guess. I, on the other hand, refused to talk... well, for the most part, at least. Anyway, on the first day of the second grade, my first day of school here, I was sitting on the edge of the concrete, picking at the grass."

She paused her speech, shifting her gaze to meet yours. "Then, this girl approached me. I thought, 'Wow, maybe I will have friends, maybe I will have friends and will finally be like Pietro.'” Wanda shook her head, shutting her eyes as if to remember each minute, each second, of that fateful day. Her accent was unconsciously growing thicker by the minute. “So, I greeted them, introduced myself like our mama had taught, and asked if they would like to play with me. You want to know what she did, Y/N?"

She opened her eyes, locking them with yours in a harsh stare. "'You talk funny,'" she hissed. "That's what the girl had said before running back to her group of friends. Truthfully, it's not even that deep of an insult, but it somehow spread like wildfire how the 'new girl' was abnormal, how she couldn’t even talk normally, how she was dirty with her dirty shoes and probably had fleas from her even dirtier home country, how no one could touch her or else they would be 'infected' by her."

“Why are you telling me this?” you stuttered out. “What does this have to do with you being a complete and utter bitch to me for the past ten years?”

Wanda huffed, “That girl was you, Y/N.”

Every breath you had suddenly left your chest. Your eyes widened, unsure of how to respond, “What?”

“You say I made your life a living hell? Bullshit. You ruined mine. You have everything I have ever wanted: friends, good grades… parents,” she said, her tone becoming soft with insecurity toward the end. “You even got my brother, my fucking twin brother! For fuck's sake! And yet, you still had to ruin my life."

"Wanda, I'm..." you began, but all of the words you have acquired in your seventeen years of life were failing you. "I'm sorry. I- I don't..."

This time, Wanda laughed, but it was not the depressed, low chuckle like before. No, this was something else entirely, a burst of maniacal laughter that indicated an unfound level of absurdity. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"'You don't' what, Y/N?" the brunette taunted.

You decided to be honest with her, "I don't know what to say."

"Of course not. 'Little Miss Perfect' never knows what to say when she finds out she's not so perfect after all."

Your sympathy gradually faded to the original anger you had been feeling. Your eyebrow involuntarily quirked, "Hold on, now... I never claimed to be 'perfect.'"

“Oh, please,” she replied, belittling your attempts to argue her predetermined notion of you. She began to mock you, “My name’s Y/N. I have the best grades in the entire school, all my friends love me, and, at night, my parents tuck me into bed and call me their little princess…”

Slowly but surely, your vision turned red. You stepped closer to Wanda, hoping the proximity would deter her from making additional snide comments about you.

“We all have our shit, Wanda,” you sneered. “You better quit now before I give you a reason to.”

She scoffed, “Oh, really? What are you gonna do? Tell mommy and daddy I…”

Her words were cut short by the placement of your lips on hers.

Truthfully, you were unsure of why you decided that this was the best course of action; perhaps your brain was simply shut off by the rage coursing through your body. Yet, that confusion did not stop you from continuing. In fact, it did not hinder either of you from continuing.

The kiss was forceful, containing all of the emotions you both have felt since that fateful night. Her mouth pushed and pulled roughly against yours; you returned the energy just as much. There were no thoughts, no rationality, behind both of your actions — only pure lust and passion.

Your hands started at her jaw but slowly drifted upwards toward the roots of her brown, messy hair, gripping and tugging at the strands. Parting from your lips for the first time in what must have been minutes, she released a moan from the sensation and continued to drift southwards toward your neck. As her teeth scraped at your pulse point, you were finally brought back to the reality of the situation.

You used the hands that were still threaded within her hair to pull her away from your neck; although, neither of you immediately stepped away from the other. You took the opportunity of your closeness to note how swollen her lips had become, how hot she looked under the dimness of the kitchen lighting.

"What are we doing?" you mumbled into the open air, not exactly expecting a response from the Sokovian in front of you.

She remained quiet, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. Her tongue darted out briefly, licking over her own lips in (what you assume to be, at least) preparation for more.

So, you seized the opportunity of her quietness to continue, "I'm not... I'm not perfect, okay? My parents... it's complicated. Sure, they're alive and whatnot, but... they don't care. Honestly, half of the shit I do — the grades, even — I do it so that they might finally pay attention. So, like I said, we all have our own shit to deal with."

Her lips parted, eyes stilled and staring into yours.

"And, l am sorry that that comment fucked you up as a kid. If I had known, even as a kid, I would've not said anything like that. I know I can't reverse time but..."

This time, her lips effectively ended your speech; however, the kiss was much softer than earlier, showcasing a newfound appreciation and, perhaps, feelings.

"I know," she acknowledged in a whisper after pulling away. "I'm... I'm sorry, too, by the way. I shouldn't have acted like that — it was cruel. We can talk more about it, about our... issues, later, but um- I just want to start over. Just us."

You nodded in affirmation, a blush flooding your cheeks.

"Just us."

The two of you sealed the agreement with a soft peck.

The sound of a glass shattering on the floor captured the attention of both of you, ending the kiss with the redirection of your heads in order to discover the culprit.

In the doorway of the kitchen, Pietro stood surrounded by broken glass splattered across on the wooden floor.

With widened eyes, you said the first and only thing that came to mind: "Oh, shi—"

End.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #limarieb wanda maximoff #limarieb #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff

[limarieb]

there is no other love (it’s only yours)

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: About seven months into your relationship, you meet one of Wanda's friends for the first time. As she watches you freely converse with her friend in sign language, she begins to doubt if she is truly enough for you.

Request: "For the “sweet” au with wanda can you write something with yn meeting wanda’s friends and one of them being fluent in asl. Wanda gets jealous when she sees how excited r is to communicate with them OR a hurt/comfort where none of them know asl and r’s hearing aids hurt her head after a while so she just doesn’t feel like she fits in with Wanda and her friends."

Warnings: a bit of angst and hurt/comfort (balanced by even more fluff)

Word Count: 2.2k

Author's Note: thanks for the request, and i hope this meets all of your expectations, anon! i had so much fun returning to this au to write this, and so many feelings. something about this one just hits different... also, requests are still open!

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

…

The first time you met one of Wanda’s friends — excluding her aptly described "goofy" coworkers from the coffee shop — was a little more than seven months into your relationship. It was not as if she was keeping them away from you, or vice versa. She could never be ashamed of you; in fact, you were all she thought about most of the day, if not the whole day. Instead, the lack of meetings was simply due to the fact that the two of you always seemed to be busy during the previous months and never had the chance to set up such meetings. With splitting your time between work, family, and your barista girlfriend, you barely had time for anything else.

One day, Wanda had approached you with the question. It was during one of your Friday evenings, which was strictly for binge-watching movies and ordering takeout. She tapped the side of your arm, given that your hearing aids were not on at the moment, and waited for you to turn your head to meet her eyes.

You smiled but immediately took notice of how she was obviously hesitant about whatever was on her mind currently. With a slight tilt of the head, you remained still and waited for her to start.

My friend came to the coffee shop today, she signed, her apprehension evident even in the way she used her hands. I told her about you, my girlfriend, and she wants to meet you. Is that okay?

Your eyes widened, unsuspecting to the question. You begin to realize that she was probably hesitant to ask because she did not want to force you to be in any situation that would make you uncomfortable. In spite of your nerves, however, you nodded your head. Any friend of Wanda's would be a friend of yours, so you trusted her enough to not introduce you to someone who was less than nice.

I would love to meet your friend, Wands, you answered. Tell me when and where, and I will be there.

She smiled, eternally thankful that she had acquired a wonderful girlfriend such as you. As a token of her gratitude, she leaned up to lay a kiss on your cheek. You grinned bashfully and redirected your attention back to the screen while Wanda pulled out her phone to begin setting up the meeting with her friend.

That was how you found yourself sitting with Wanda and her old friend from college — Darcy, you had found out — at some restaurant you had never been to before.

For the sake of everyone involved, you tried to push through the varying volumes of noise coming through your hearing aids; you tried to prevent the occasional eye twitch and furrowed brows when the glassware and ceramic plates would constantly clink and clack together; and you most definitely tried to not clench your fists so that you would not ruin this for Wanda.

But she could tell. From your first encounter in the coffee shop to now, she could always tell when you were feeling overwhelmed from the constant input of disruptive sounds.

You were attempting to drown out the noise, planning to focus on listening to the two of them speak about some story from college; but, it was not working. As the minutes passed, you were becoming increasingly frustrated, mostly with yourself. Wanda noticed the silence, not only of your words but of your actions. You remained uncharacteristically still, eyebrows furrowed; in your lap, your hands were clutching at the fabric of your pants.

Trying to get your attention, Wanda placed one of her hands on top of your own. You stopped the movement of your hands and looked at Wanda. She knows how stubborn you are, that you would never want to take your hearing aids out merely because they were bothering you; however, given the way in which you were already considerably distressed, it was the only thing she could suggest to help. So, she indicated for you to take your hearing aids out.

Your eyes widened, shaking your head slightly. You wanted to appear as normal as possible for Wanda’s friend, as worthy as possible. If taking an hour or so of hearing annoying, mind-numbing sounds was what was required, then so be it.

Wanda rolled her eyes at your typical stubborn nature but leaned in closer for you to hear her as clearly as possible when she said, “It’s okay, I promise. If they’re bothering you, we can just use our notes app to talk or something.”

You were weary but decided to listen. Upon finally removing your hearing aids, you took a sigh of relief at the peacefulness that came with the silence. Wanda smiled at the sight, seeing you become more and more comfortable with not wearing your hearing aids (with a few obstacles, of course).

You feeling better? she asked, through a few signs of her hand.

Returning the smile she wore, you nodded your head. You rotated to face Darcy again, wishing to pick up where she had left off in the story (hoping to also pick up on some of the details you missed from the previous few minutes through context clues). However, as you shifted your body to retrieve your phone from your pocket, you noticed her sign: Are you deaf?

Your eyes widened once again, shocked to see someone else sign fluently off the bat. You turned to Wanda, flickering your gaze from Darcy to Wanda in a “did you know she could sign?” type of way. Yet, Wanda looked just as surprised as you did.

Despite the shock, Wanda nudged you to reply.

Yeah, you replied, the surprise still evident on your face. How do you know sign?

She chuckled at the expression on your face but continued to sign. I have an older brother who was born deaf, she started. He got hearing aids like you, eventually, but we all used sign to communicate growing up so he wouldn’t feel left out. To be honest, sign is my first language, even before English.

From that point on, you and Darcy simply signed everything. Both of your hands were allowed to speak freely and, for one of the first times, it felt great to go out and talk to someone without having to actually talk (because that would require hearing).

Wanda tried to keep up with the conversation to the best of her abilities, even throwing in her own comments here and there; given that she was a beginner, though, she could only really capture the gist of what you two were discussing. She bit her lip and resigned herself to pushing the food around her plate, allowing you to experience this moment of elation even if she feels excluded. Maybe this simply was not meant for her.

It was not until the two of you stepped into Wanda’s apartment that you began to notice something was off. You were trying to tell her (via a typed note) that you enjoyed tonight, raving about meeting her friend who was fluent in your language; however, all you received was a nod in return. While she was normally silent around you (especially when you had your hearing aids out), she was currently exhibiting a different type of silence. It was as if she was giving you the silent treatment through her actions, constantly zoning out and looking away. To you, it was becoming increasingly clear that something was wrong with her.

You tapped her arm, but she didn’t face your direction. So, you grasped her arm and made her turn fully toward you. Her expression was unusually stoic, making your stomach churn at the thought that she was upset with you. Contrastingly, Wanda saw the frown that adorned your face. She wanted to feel bad, to take you into her arms in the most loving hug and tell you that it would be okay; though she did feel bad to a certain extent, the bad did not outweigh the nerves of inferiority coursing throughout her body.

Are you okay? you asked with your hands.

Wanda remained still, making no effort to respond to you through sign or the typical digital methods. Her breathing became quicker, demonstrating she was not as calm on the inside as she appeared with her faux, collected exterior.

Wands? you signed her name sign that you assigned to her, the concern evident on your face and in the desperate moves of your hands. What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I do something to make you upset?

Wanda finally lifted her head further up to meet your gaze. I’m sorry I’m not like her, she signed.

You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at what she meant.

Slowly, you responded, I don’t understand.

You could see the way her throat bobbed as she gulped. Whereas she was nervous about opening up, you were petrified as to what she was going to say. You had never witnessed Wanda be so... isolated before. She had always urged you to talk to her when you were in distress, so why would she think that does not apply in reciprocity?

I’m sorry I am not Darcy, she reiterated. I’m sorry I don’t know sign language as well as she knows sign. I saw your eyes, your face. You were so happy. I’m sorry I am not good enough for you.

You watched intently as she stumbled through her words. By the end, you were attempting to suppress the laugh bubbling in the back of your throat from the absurdity of it all. You had failed, though.

As a tiny chuckle slipped through your lips, Wanda rolled her eyes and returned to her stoic, still state.

You tried to grasp her arm again in order to pull her close, but she pulled her arm out of your hold. While it hurt your feelings, you understood and respected her boundary.

Wands, I’m sorry, you began. You held a finger up to indicate you needed a moment as you tried to get the phone from your pocket. Given the nature of the conversation and Wanda’s stress, you figured it would be easier for the two of you to clearly and effectively communicate through typing in your notes app.

You tried to type your message with haste:

Wands, I am truly sorry for laughing. I promise I was not laughing at your feelings. I was only laughing at the words, which probably does not sound better but I swear it was just because I thought it was so… crazy, for lack of a better word, that you would think you aren’t good enough for me. In fact, I often think you’re too good for me. You are the most beautiful, empathetic girlfriend in existence. I could never be as good as you.

As for you not knowing sign language like Darcy, you didn’t grow up knowing it like she did. But that’s not your fault. And, in spite of that, you still make every effort to learn sign which is more than most people have done or would do. You literally took secret classes at the local college just to surprise me! So, you better be nicer when you talk about my girlfriend, or I might have to fight you next time, except maybe not because I need these hands in good shape in order to talk. >:(

You finished typing the message and turned the phone around to face her. Wanda took it into her own hands and began to read it. You observed the movement of her eyes as they scanned each word. A lone tear flowed down her cheek. You were worried that that was a bad sign; however, toward the end of your message, you saw her lips twitch into a slight smile at your humor, even during serious conversations.

When she lifted her head up from reading, sniffling and wiping her cheeks dry, you held your hand up with the sign that was essentially shorthand for ‘I love you.’

Forming her hand to be similar to the letter ‘Y’, Wanda slid it back and forth from you to herself, indicating ‘I love you, too.’

You took the hand that she held out, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Then, in a surprising move, you used your firm grip on her hand to pull her closer. Letting her hand go, you wrapped your arms around her waist. She grinned widely at your antics but nevertheless allowed herself to be embraced, needing the comfort your proximity provided her. With her hands resting on your shoulders, you leaned your face closer to hers: forehead resting against forehead; then, nose nuzzling against nose; and then, your lips gently brushed hers.

The two of you allowed yourselves to fully experience this moment, not feeling the need to deepen the kiss. The softness, the warmth, the intimacy of the moment were sufficient for you both.

As you pulled away, you cheekily pressed a quick peck on her lips. You pulled your hand away from its place at her side to sign one more thing: Green is not your color. Your color is red, not green.

She blushed at the accusation but questioned, My color is red?

You nodded confidently, Red is love. Red is warm. You are red.

If the blush on her cheeks could redden more, it definitely had. You loved the way she flushed simply from your words. It was one of the many reminders about why you loved this woman so deeply.

End.

#wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #limarieb #limarieb wanda maximoff

[limarieb]

currently thinking about reader, who’s notoriously grumpy and angry all the time, being tough around everyone except their girlfriend, wanda…

although you’re seemingly grumpy with everyone else, you never appear to have any complaints about her. (maybe you’re biased, though... or maybe she's just better than everyone else.)

your anger never manifested physically, though; you only ever fought with your words or actions, like the silent treatment or harsh glares. after years of therapy, you have gotten better at keeping your comments to yourself until you were in a safe place to vent them out. you used to write in a journal before wanda; however, now that she’s in your life, she has offered to be your sounding board for all of your issues because she knows how much it all truly affects you.

while she completely and utterly loves you for who you are (personality and issues included), there are some things that she tries to implement in your daily life in order to further help you with your irritability. for example, she introduced a system for creating healthy dialogue so you avoid getting too heated, either at someone else or when you're simply ranting to her, and saying or doing something you might regret. she also implemented a traffic light system in regard to your emotions and irritability levels: red meaning "don't want to talk" or "too pissed to speak," yellow meaning "i'm not very happy right now, and i want to get it off my chest," and green meaning "i'm doing okay at the moment."

after a few weeks of doing a trial run with the system, she also began to use it; not only with her own issues, but for setting a boundary for herself if she was not in the headspace to provide you the support you may have needed.) so far, these changes have truly worked wonders for maintaining a healthy relationship with wanda, promoting the necessary honesty and communication.

when you do decide to talk to her about something that was bothering you, she would always make the time to listen to all of your rants about everyone and everything being dumb and stupid, whether it be over text or in person. it wouldn’t be mere passive listening, either; she would actively listen to your voice and try to provide advice when needed. if she figures advice isn’t what you need in the moment, she’ll just affirm your feelings and cuddle with you until you calm down a bit.

and you just accept all of her affection — no questions asked. with wanda, you find you actively seek physical touch and words of affirmation, unlike in the past. the second she touches you, even in a non-sensual manner, you absolutely fold. she can't help but adore how soft you have become around her, and she's grateful you have grown comfortable enough with her to simply feel your feelings around her.

(and may the gods above forbid any of the team members mention your newfound softness with the witch, for then they must face the wrath of your anger and her protectiveness.

sam entered, discovering her cuddling you on the couch in the compound's living area one day and decided it was the funniest sight. so, he naturally made a joke about it, stating how she must be the one who "wears the pants in the relationship" despite the personality differences.

"you better start running," the only words that left the sokovian's lips, eyes turning scarlet red.

he scrambled away, and you simply snuggled her closer.)

one of the best dates she planned, in your humble opinion, was “stress-reliever” themed. you both were having a… not very good week, so she decided that the two of you would take the day off to focus on yourselves. she took you to a rage room, in which the two of you took turns smashing everything. afterwards, she drove you both to a secluded picnic area, where you both wrote your deepest woes and secret onto a plate and then smashed them into tiny pieces and proceeded to eat your feelings with all of your favorite foods, which she packed.

she has learned over the course of your relationship that your anger and irritability was a product of both your genetics and your family. not that it has bothered her, because truly it hasn't — you've been nothing but kind and loving toward her. although, wanda, with her inherent empathetic nature, can't help but feel upset sometimes that you had to endure all of that unhealthy hostility while growing up. she just internally hopes that she has helped heal some of your inner child, at least.

occasionally, you have doubts about yourself, thinking you, in all of your 'darkness' and rain-like moods, were not worthy enough to be dating someone like wanda, who you viewed as the practical embodiment of sunshine. she reaffirms the depth of her feelings for you (and all of your various rants) each time you begin to feel like this, stopping the negative thoughts before you begin to truly spiral. she also takes the time to remind you her life is not always ‘sunshine and rainbows,’ given her history in sokovia and then hydra; and, yet, you still love her the same — so why would it be different for you? (it's during times like these that you appreciate how your girlfriend is a literal witch.)

...

a/n: well, i promised, didn't i? enjoy this "little" drabble as a little treat since my interview for that graduate school program went well!

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #limarieb #limarieb wanda maximoff #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff headcanons #drabble #wanda maximoff fluff

[limarieb]

love is a double-edged sword

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader (Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision)

Summary: Falling in love with your presumed-to-be-straight best friend could have been possibly the worst, most cliché thing you have ever done. But, it could also have been the best.

Warnings: internalized homophobia, coming out, occasional swearing used, brief mention of non-consensual kiss

Word Count: 4.5k

Author's Note: ahh my tumblr debut! this was the first mcu fic i ever wrote — i hope you guys enjoy.

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Since the age of six, if anyone asked you who your best friend was, you would proudly respond, “Wanda Maximoff”; she would do the same with your name.

But, you’re not exactly sure when your feelings for her become less friendly.

Maybe it was one of those times she had gone off on a tangent and explained the latest book she read, saying how much you’d “love it if you just listened to her and read the damn book.” You found her passion for stories endearing, perhaps even admirable. Maybe it was Field Day during the seventh grade; the outside air was plagued by blistering heat, but — with her long, brunette hair tied up in a high ponytail — she made sweating look good . Maybe it was the fact that, when you came out to your family last year, she had comforted you afterward; she held your face in her hands, wiped your tears with her two thumbs, and told you any girl would be lucky to have you.

You were sure at this moment that you did not want “any girl,” however, because the only girl you wanted was the one sitting in front of you.

You mistakenly let out a scoff. Of course, you would fall victim to the “lesbian falls for the straight best friend” trope. Wanda, on the other hand, thought the scoff was a response to her; thus, she pulled you into a tight hug, trying to convey how deeply she cares for you.

“I’m serious, Y/N,” she whispered into your ear. “One day, some girl is going to love you for you .”

You didn’t reply.

It was the second to last day of your junior year in high school. Thankfully, you had finished your exams, but the school required everyone to attend until the last day anyway.

It’s not like you could’ve done much for summer anyways; it has been raining all week, and it’s not like you got your license, nor do you even own a car. Additionally, you reasoned there could be far worse places to be in this moment, like home.

As you closed your locker, a mischievous brunette was lingering on the other side.

“Hello, Wanda. What can I do you for on this very fine day?” you said, sarcastically putting emphasis on the “very fine” part of the question.

She chuckled as she shook her head, “Nothing, at least not with that attitude.”

“Fine,” you gave in quickly, in pursuit of the real reason behind this conversation. “Seriously, though, what has Wanda Maximoff in such a chipper mood during school hours?”

Somehow, your question made her smile grow wider. “You’ll never guess what happened this morning,” she began. “Vision asked me out.”

Now, that caught your attention, “What?”

“Yeah, you know Tony, right? He’s that annoying rich kid in our class. Anyways, he’s throwing some sort of party for the end of the year and, since he and Vision are essentially best friends, Vision asked me to go to the party with him.”

You were only able to get one word out: “Wow.”

Noticing your lack of enthusiasm, Wanda turned her body completely towards you, “What? What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited for me?”

Truthfully, you were not excited for her. It’s not as if you did not know of Wanda’s infatuation with Vision; in fact, you could probably never forget the number of times she would talk to you about his “beautiful, blonde hair” and “pretty eyes.” Vision was not necessarily a bad kid, but you just hate that she just couldn’t like you like that.

It’s not like you could share this desire with your best friend either; ergo, you opted to put on a brave face and say, “Of course, I’m excited for you.” And, in case she didn’t believe you, you playfully elbowed her side, “If it goes well, I better be the maid of honor.”

You know that had convinced her, for she bit her lip and nodded excitedly.

“Oh,” Wanda started. “One more thing…”

As you looked at the mansion that stood before you, filled to the brim with a plethora of drunk teenagers, you uttered to yourself, “I don’t know why I let her talk me into coming to this. One day, I am going to have to stop agreeing with her on everything.”

You know you wouldn’t — if she wanted something, you’d make sure she’d get it. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from finding situations such as this annoying.

You walked through the front door. Immediately, your senses were overwhelmed by the strong smell of alcohol and the loud music blasting in the atmosphere. You attempted to push through to get through the crowd of people and find the person responsible for your presence. Before you could get much further, you felt another person grab and pull your wrist from behind, forcing you to turn around.

Wanda.

“Y/N, you came!” she tried to yell over the music. You could tell she wasn’t drunk, but she had definitely consumed something alcoholic. You failed to get a word in before she continued to pull you by the hand to venture further into the crowd of people, “Come on, let’s go dance!”

Moments later, you found yourself awkwardly “dancing” with your best friend. Although, she seemed to be having the time of her life. When she noticed your stiffness, she brought you closer to her, allowing you to hear her say, “Don’t worry about everyone else… Just dance with me!” 

So, you did. You let go of any apprehensions, allowing yourself to move freely with the music and the girl in front of you.

Meanwhile, Vision stood across the room with a drink in hand. Not really thrilled by what he was seeing occurring between you and Wanda, he decided to end it. Drunkenly strolling over to you two, he pulled her from your grasp and into (in your unbiased opinion) one of the grossest, sloppiest kisses you had ever witnessed. 

You weren’t exactly sure how to respond, partly due to the fact that there wasn’t exactly a reason to be envious of him anyways. So, you stood there awkwardly once more, pushing the jealousy down within you.

Wanda, on the other hand, was not thrilled by the action either. She knew he was drunk, tasting the alcohol the minute he forcefully placed his lips on hers. Quickly, she pulled away, “What the fuck, Vision? What was that?”

With a smirk aimed at you, he replied, “What do you mean?” She scowled, “You can’t just do that! Why would you ever think that was okay?”

“I should ask you the same thing.”

Now, she was the one in a state of confusion, yet hers was not fake, “What do you mean?”

“Y/N,” his retort made you look down at your old, worn-out sneakers. You weren’t entirely sure what direction this was all going, but you already knew that you did not like it.

“What about her, Vision?” “She’s obviously into you. I saw how you two were dancing together. My friends saw it, too. How is that supposed to make me feel, Wanda?”

Despite not being able to look up due to the embarrassment, you could feel the anger rolling off of Wanda’s body, “That is so not true, Vision, and you know it! Why are you acting so insecure about it, anyway? She’s my best friend, and I’m not even gay !”

You know she didn’t mean it like that , but something about the way she yelled the last part at the teenage boy came with a sort of venom — as if “gay” was synonymous with “bad.”

“You know what, Wanda? I’m done with this argument. You choose now : me or Y/N.”

That took Wanda aback, “What?”

“You heard me.”

“No, Vision,” she began. “That’s not fair, I refuse to choose between you and my best friend.”

“Either you choose me, and we can continue dating, or you choose her .”

A moment passed. In an attempt to not outwardly demonstrate the pain, you clamped your eyes shut. Honestly, you were about to walk away, accept defeat, and simply pretend this night never happened in the first place; you would have let her know later that it was alright, that if she wanted him, she could have him without someone like her standing in her way. Before she could move her feet to leave, however, she heard Wanda finally speak: “Fine, then. I choose her.”

Upon her decision being made, you finally looked up with wide eyes. Vision had the same wide eyes as you, but his face was paling from the initial rageful red that painted it moments earlier. Now, you shared two things with him: your love for Wanda and the visible shock that she chose you over him. It took every fiber of your being to not smile, as you knew now was not the time to celebrate such a victory.

Before another poisonous comment could be passed between the two, Tony stepped through the crowd that had surrounded you three. “Okay, man. That’s enough. Let’s go,” he ushered Vision away from the scene.

The crowd dissipated, leaving your best friend standing there alone. You took their exit as an opportunity to make sure Wanda was alright. You tried to reach out to her, to touch her shoulder. Maybe it was to pull her into one of your two’s infamously tight hugs; maybe it was to just let her know you were just there . You don’t know why you reached for her, but you didn’t really think before acting since it just felt like the most natural thing to do for you. Immediately, your hand was shrugged off by the brunette. Your body began to feel hot, and tears started to form in your eyes. You refused to cry, though, instead choosing to look down at your feet once more and begin your journey back home.

Within minutes you were back in the comfort of your own bed. With a harsh swallow, you continuously replayed the events of tonight over and over again. You laid there, reminiscing on just how utterly humiliated and alone you felt.

Even then in your state of depression and self-pity, you only hoped Wanda was doing okay.

Wanda left the party soon after you did. Similarly, she went home and found herself collapsed in her bed.

She didn’t bother changing out of her clothes, nor did she take off her makeup. Internally, she wishes that the bed would swallow her in order to leave the ramifications of tonight as a “potential” occurrence rather than an “actual.” She just doesn’t understand why: why he would do something like that; why the universe hates her; why she turned you away when she knew you did nothing wrong.

A brief, soft knock at her bedroom door removed her from her cyclical round of thoughts. “Come in,” she whispered, not trusting her voice to carry across the room like it usually does. 

The door creaked open slowly, revealing her twin brother standing on the other side. “Hey, сестра,” he began, approaching her bed with caution and sitting beside where her legs laid. “How are you doing?” [sestra | sister]

She doesn’t acquire the information about how exactly he learned about the events of tonight, perhaps from some friends of his that went to the party. Instead, she chuckled humorlessly, “How do you think I feel, Pietro? I think I just lost my best friend and the guy I liked in one night.”

“‘The guy you liked’? You mean, Vision?” he wondered. “Honestly, I didn’t like him anyway. You didn’t lose much on that front. But, what happened with Y/N? You guys never fight.”

“I don’t even know, Pietro. One minute, we’re just dancing and having fun because you know Y/N — she never comes to parties. I wanted to make the most of the night. As we were dancing, though, Vision walked up to us, stole me from her, and just kissed me. Not only was it without my consent and out of spite, but it was just gross.”

The latter statement made the twin brother laugh. She continued, “I pulled away quickly because I was just so angry , you know? Like why did he think he could just do that? So, I asked him, which caused us to have an argument in the middle of the party. In the end, he gave me an ultimatum: him or Y/N. Of course, I chose her because… I don’t know, Y/N is Y/N.”

He sat there next to her, listening intently. He sighed, “Yeah, but what happened between you and Y/N ?”

She closed her eyes, “I don’t know .” The statement wasn’t a lie because she truly did not understand why she reacted the way she did towards you, her best friend. The tears started flowing again, soon turning into a set of sobs that ultimately racked her body. Her brother swiftly leaned down, taking his sister into his arms; she continued to cry into his chest for what felt like hours.

After some time had passed, the sobs slowed down and transformed into sniffles. Pietro looked down at his sister, “What’s wrong?”

She refused to look up, but she knew she had to get this off her chest. “Pietro,” she released in a single breath. He affirmed to her to continue, “I think… I think I’m gay.” There was another beat of silence before she slowly proceeded once more, “I think I like Y/N.”

There it was: the beast of the truth that was unknowingly weighing her down was finally released. 

If it was even possible, Pietro pulled her closer in his embrace. Though he was aware that discussions of sexuality were becoming increasingly accepted and treated as an insignificant portion of someone’s life, he also knew that this was a big deal for her . He acknowledged such a fact, “I’m proud of you, Wanda, and I’m glad you told me, especially because I know it must have been difficult for you to realize and go through this on your own — even without Y/N… is this what caused the rift between you two? Did you tell her, and she rejected you?”

She scoffed, “Quite the opposite, actually; Vision accused her of liking me — which she probably doesn’t — but I just stood there, screaming at him that we were ‘just friends’ and that I ‘wasn’t even gay.’ You should’ve seen her when I shrugged her away after, Pietro. She looked so hurt . I hurt her.”

“You want to know how to fix this?” he asked, quickly followed by a confident nod from her. “You have to talk to her. Even if she didn’t like you, this is not something to lose such a close friendship over. For the record, though, she does like you. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and that is definitely someone in love.”

Her head snapped up at the accusation, meeting the smirk that was plastered on his face. If he was right, she really messed up. She urgently needed to see you, to tell you once and for all how she truly feels about you; thus, she told her brother that she was going to find you and left him and his smirk behind.

Wanda didn’t have a clue about what she was going to say when she saw you; she didn’t have a script, nor did she have any guidelines to follow. She just knew she had to see you , only then would everything make sense for her.

You were on the verge of sleep when you could feel the vibrations coming from your phone. In a sleepy haze, you picked up the phone. The brightness made you unexpectedly squint your eyes, but the Caller ID was unmistakable: Wanda Maximoff. 

You weren’t sure what exactly to do in this situation. On one hand, you knew you could not face another rejection, specifically from her. It would probably break you beyond repair. On the other hand, you could never say no to Wanda, even if it meant answering her calls at the most random times of the day. 

So, you shakily tapped the green button and pulled the phone close to your ear.

“Hello? Y/N?” you could hear Wanda ask on the other side of the line.

“Hi,” you responded back. Wanda noted how soft your voice sounded. Normally, she would consider such softness an adorable trait of yours, but she knows the reason behind it. She knows it was her fault that you felt insecure at that moment.

“I’m– Um, I’m outside; can you come downstairs to open the door?” Wanda asked. Now, you were almost completely awake; the question made you raise your eyebrows in astonishment. 

Despite your initial surprise, you muttered a quiet approval that you would meet her at the door and made your way downstairs. 

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You don’t know what she’s going to say to you. You unlock the door and reach for the handle of the door, slowly turning it and pulling the wooden door towards you until you’re able to see Wanda on your front doorstep. Even with the low amount of yellow light coming from the bulb outside the door and the makeup visibly smeared on her face (probably from crying, you note), all you can think about is just how pretty she looks.

Her eyes look up to meet yours, causing your breath to hitch for a second. You weren’t certain about how to go about this, “Uh, do you want to come in? We’d have to go up to my room quietly because my parents are home.”

She accepted the invite, nodding her head hesitantly. The two of you walked upstairs, through the hall, back to where you had initially been laying in your bed and wallowing in your pity. You got back in your bed and crossed your legs as you sat against the headboard. Wanda, however, did not sit alongside you like she usually does; instead, she paced around your room. It was obvious that she was stuck in a state of stress and anxiety that you had never seen, even when she failed that one test back in sophomore year.

Your eyes trailed back and forth as you observed her pacing; suddenly, she came to a stop in front of the bed. Her body was not facing you, rather it faced the way that she had been walking moments prior. She started to play with the rings littered on her various fingers, which you had learned early on that it was a nervous habit of hers. You chose to remain quiet and to let her speak when she was ready due to the evidently difficult subject matter, but you couldn’t help your own anxiety rising. 

Without looking at you, she finally broke the silence: “I need to tell you something, Y/N. I need to tell you a few things, actually. I’m not sure how you’ll react, but I also know that you didn’t deserve what happened to you tonight, to be put in that situation. You deserve more than that; honestly, you deserve everything good, and I’m so sorry that I put you through that. I completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me or be friends with me anymore, but I would not forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to salvage us.”

You sat silently in shock but continued to let her speak: “I thought I knew myself. In fact, I was so sure I did. Yeah, I may not have known the answer to some stupid math equation in school, but I knew the kind of clothes I preferred to wear, my favorite food to eat when I’m sad or stressed out, my go-to karaoke song. I thought I knew myself , inside and out. But, I don’t, or at least not as well as I thought I did. And, honestly? That’s freaking me the fuck out because, if I don’t know myself , how can I know anything else? I know that probably makes no fucking sense, but… yeah. I’m just really scared right now, but I talked to Pietro, which helped a bit. Um, he was right. Vision was right.”

Your face fell. You thought this was it, she was finally going to reject you and leave you. 

In the deafening silence swirling around the two of you in your bedroom, she eventually decided to look at you. She saw the way your body sagged, how utterly defeated you looked; the brunette realized that you took her statement in the wrong way, “No! No! No! I didn’t mean it like that! Fuck ! I’m fucking this up. Okay, no, Vision is not right about anything other than the fact that I don’t like him. I don’t like boys… Truthfully, I’m not sure. I just feel so confused and stupid for not realizing such a big thing sooner. That’s what I meant when I said I thought I knew myself: I thought I knew that I liked boys, which I feel like is something that many people know from the beginning.”

“So, you’re… gay?” you quietly asked. You might be almost as confused as Wanda claimed to be.

You watched as the brunette nodded slowly, “I think so? As I said, I don’t know.”

“Okay,” you bit your lip, concentrating on forming something insightful to say next. “Thank you, Wanda, for telling me. I know how difficult and confusing it all is — believe me. Some people figure it out relatively early; others don’t realize it until they’re married with kids. There’s no timeline to any of it, okay? I know we’re kind of in this weird state right now because of tonight, but no matter what, I’d always support you.”

In a brief moment of confidence, Wanda turned her head to face you. You could see the water in her eyes that threatened to fall, her lip beginning to quiver. You rapidly stood up and walked over to her. With the two of you finally facing each other within a two-foot radius, she threw herself at you, wrapping her arms tightly around your neck. Your arms found their way to her waist, snaking around her and finding placement on her back. Both of you kept holding on tighter and tighter, afraid the other would try to leave. You could feel her chest rising and falling relatively fast as she cried into your neck and shoulder, repeating the phrase “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

You removed one hand from her back; instead, you placed it on her head. With a trembling hand, you tread your fingers through her long hair. In an attempt to calm her down, you whisper things of assurance like “It’s okay,” “You’re okay,” or “It’s going to be alright.” You’re not confident they worked, but you could feel her breathing begin to slow down again. You moved the hand from her hair to her shoulder and pulled back in order to ensure she was okay enough to continue; shifting from the shoulder to her hand, you grasped it and squeezed. 

You moved to sit on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to you. Wanda was noticeably apprehensive, but she sat anyway.

“Are you okay?” you inquired, your eyebrow slightly raised in concern.

“Yeah, I am. At least, I will be eventually,” she trailed off. “There’s one more thing, though… probably the hardest for me to tell you out of all of them.”

Your eyebrows raised slightly as your interest peaked, but you knew to stay quiet again. She proceeded, “I told you that I don’t like men, implying that I do like women, which is true to an extent, I guess. Um, but it’s not ‘women' as in plural. All I know is that I like one, but I’m not sure how she feels about me. I want to tell her so badly so that we could try to be more or something, but I don’t know if she feels the same. I just don’t want to ruin us.”

You nodded your head for her to continue, “Can– Can I ask which lucky girl caught your eye?”

She moved her gaze upwards, resulting in your eyes locking once more. You could tell she was battling with herself internally about whether or not to answer with the truth, for she was harshly biting her lip. Yet, what you didn’t expect was her quiet, albeit one-word, response: “You.”

At this moment, with your eyes locked and her confession having been spoken, you swear your heart skipped a beat. Wanda Maximoff, your best friend and untold love of your life, just admitted she liked you as more than a friend.

Her eyes grew concerned and her face paled since you weren’t responding. “Please, say something… Y/N?” she pleaded.

If there was a time to deal all of your cards on the table, this was it: “I like you, too, Wanda. In fact, I love you. I love you so much, Wanda Maximoff. You don’t have to say it back or whatever; I know tonight has been a lot for you to deal with, but I’ve just wanted to say that to you for so long.”

A toothy grin grew on her face, reaching from ear to ear, “Really?”

“Yes, really. Um, can I kiss you? You don’t have to say ye—“

You were stopped effectively and prematurely when a pair of lips touched yours. Not just any lips, though; they were the softest , purest pair that was owned by your love , Wanda Maximoff. It’s slow at first, neither one of you sure of the other’s boundaries and not wanting to cross wherever they lie. But, as your lips part further allowing her to deepen the kiss, you just think, Wow.  

You continue to kiss her for a minute or two before you’re out of breath and need to pull back for air. Before she can pull back completely, you give her a quick peck on her rosy lips that was probably filled with more intimacy and confidence than that initial kiss.

Pulling the brunette closer to you, you lean down and get the two of you comfortable in your bed. You’ve cuddled like this before during past nights where one of you spent the night with the other girl: you as the big spoon and her as the little one. You deeply appreciated nights like these, but you loved them even more so now that they hold a different context.

Your hand finds its spot on her hip, going beneath the shirt she wore. The two of you know it’s nothing sexual in nature, rather it’s a result of your need to just feel her. As you both began to nod off to sleep with your thumb continued to rub circles on her soft skin, you heard her voice call your name softly once more, “Y/N?”

“Yeah, Wands?”

“I love you, too.”

End.

#wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff #marvel imagines #limarieb #limarieb wanda maximoff

[limarieb]

currently thinking about dating cw!wanda and her opening up to you during your first holiday season as a couple by introducing you to her family’s hanukkah practices…

she’d be shy about it at first, nervous that you’d find it “silly” or “boring”; but, as you begin to ask her more questions and become increasingly intrigued by the traditions she explained, her worries would begin to fade into amusement from your curiosity.

given that you had typically celebrated christmas (as well as many of your childhood friends), you were considerably clueless about it all. so, without her knowing, you did more research on hanukkah, eager to please your girlfriend and ensure that she knew her cultural upbringing was as appreciated and valued as your own in your relationship.

on the first night of hanukkah, wanda had definitely not expected to return to the compound after her daily stroll to be met with the delightful scent of freshly cooked latkes.

“i hope they taste alright… you were always the better chef out of the two of us, so I had to look up the recipe.” you held the plate out to her, a hesitant smile forming on your lips, “but, um… happy hanukkah!”

if her eyes had not formed tears from your thoughtfulness, she would have chuckled at your visible apprehension. with stomachs full of latkes and other treats, it is safe to say you and wanda both enjoyed the first night of your very first holiday season together.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #limarieb #marvel imagines #limarieb wanda maximoff #limarieb thoughts

[limarieb]

“i don't care,

i’d rather tell the truth (truth),

than make it worse for you, mm (you).

if the sun refused to shine,

baby, would I still be your lover?

would you want me there?

if the moon went dark tonight,

and if it all ended tomorrow,

would I be the one on your mind, your mind, your mind?”

intro (end of the world) by ariana grande

[this part of the song is def wanda maximoff core, esp during wandavision. no, i won’t be taking questions at this time.]

#wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #limarieb #limarieb wanda maximoff #limarieb speaks #marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #eternal sunshine #ariana grande #intro (end of the world)

[limarieb]

(shades of) maroon

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x (implied) fem!reader

Summary: The development of your relationship with Wanda from its glorious beginning to its bitter end. (Inspired by 'Maroon' by Taylor Swift.)

Warnings: strangers to friends to lovers, fluff... to angst, no happy ending (this is my weak attempt at writing angst), character death

Word Count: 6.2k

Author's Note: im still in the process of writing new stuff, so i hope you can enjoy some old writing from my ao3 in the meantime... also, requests are still open!

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

When the morning came we, Were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf, 'Cause we lost track of time again, Laughing with my feet in your lap, Like you were my closest friend...

The stench of alcohol plagued the air surrounding you. You were not one to drink much, but Tony insisted on organizing another party — what was to be celebrated, you never really figured out. As the moment thirty minutes had passed since your arrival, the several shots you had done with Natasha were beginning to take effect. You were not drunk yet, but the shots definitely acted as a stepping stone. Beneath your skin, an underlying buzz was being contained.

You were talking to Natasha about the latest news in your life, considering the two of you do not always get to talk as much as you do since she is constantly on missions across the globe. As you raised your cup to your lips, you realized it was too effortless to lift. You excused yourself, making your way through the various attendees to get to the bar for a refill.

When the bartender asked you what you wished to order, you requested your usual: "Vodka Coke, please."

You remained where you were, but you elevated your left arm vertically enough to be placed on the counter. Slightly leaning, you use the angle to reach with your right hand into your pocket to retrieve the phone being stored there. Before you could, however, an unknown voice seemed to acknowledge you, "Interesting drink-of-choice... most go for a Rum and Coke."

You turned around, expecting to find out who this opinionated person is. What you did not expect, though, is said person being a beautiful brunette. Her eyes were one of the brightest shades of green, but they were dulled by the dark eyeliner outlining her eyes. The lengthy, brown hair cascaded down her back and shoulders. You even admired her sense of style; it was edgy — to say the least — but still very fashionable in your opinion. "I like to think I'm interesting," you began. "Otherwise, I'd be boring, and that's no fun. Even so, I refuse to accept that vodka is not the better one, especially compared to rum."

She let out a small laugh when you added a theatric gag at the end, showing your distaste for the latter drink. It was a bit dramatic, but you would do it again just to hear that laugh once more. With a slight smirk forming, she returned: "Coming from a place of people who praised that drink on their hands and knees, I am sure that I'm obligated to agree."

It was your turn to provide a chuckle at her joke, "Russia?"

"Close," she replied, tilting her head from left to right. "Sokovia."

Within seconds, the mood dampened a bit. You saw the numerous news reports of what had happened to the small country: ultimate destruction. There was a sharp intake of your breath, confused about how to properly respond in this situation (especially when you are intoxicated). The girl began chewing on her lip, which you assumed to be a nervous habit due to your lack of an immediate reply.

Once you finally opened your mouth, the bartender returned with your glass. You wrapped your hand around the glass, lifting it to take a sip. It was relatively sweet, yet it still contributed to the increasing levels of liquid courage.

The awkward tension was still present between you two. You could have simply left and returned to Natasha; instead, you opted to ignore it before she had the chance to leave you at the bar. "So," the word started to become drawn out. "Wanna get out of here?"

Her eyes widened, evidently thinking something entirely different than what you were expecting. "Not like that! I just mean, do you want to hang out at my apartment or something, instead of here? It's quite loud, and parties aren't really my thing, anyway. I just come because the alcohol is free. You don't have to, of course, but..."

The anxiety was starting to overpower the liquid courage, causing you to trail off as you finished your question; you left the hope that she accepts your offer to come with you unspoken. Finally, you could see the smile return to her face, removing most of the nervousness from your body. It was small but there nonetheless. "Ok," she agreed. "Under one condition, though. I want to know your name."

"Y/N. But, I'll also need to know yours."

"Wanda. Wanda Maximoff."

"Well, Wanda," you placed your now empty glass back on the counter. "We better get going."

Nothing necessarily happened that night. It was purely innocuous fun away from the overwhelming crowd at the party. Nonetheless, it was still one of the best nights of your life. You put some records on the turntable that sat on your bookshelf, allowing your favorite songs and scents of incense to fill the room. Wanda sat at the top of your bed with her back up against the wall. She was busy observing the decorations in your room, inferring the various quirks you possessed.

The two of you talked about many things that night. In the days after, you preferred to blame the openness on the alcohol; however, you knew it was because of her. It was simply easy to talk about anything and everything with Wanda. The Sokovian even shared some of her own stories, albeit with some difficulties. You ensured her it was alright if she didn't want to share, and she admired the respect you gave.

That is not to say it was all sad, traumatic memories being shared. You found out a few things about Wanda when she is tipsy and tired: she can be quite the comedian; she likes physical touch if she is comfortable with the person, resulting in the legs that were laying on your own; and her accent — which is incredibly enticing, you might add — becomes more prominent.

It was like you two had known each other since childhood; if another person had been present, they would assume you were best friends. And, honestly, you wouldn't disagree.

That was the night Wanda had both entered your life for the first time and risen the ranks to "best friend" status.

How'd we end up on the floor anyway? You say, "Your roommate's cheap-ass screw top Rosé", that's how, I see you everyday now...

A month had passed since the night of Tony's party, otherwise known as the night you befriended Wanda. You had seen each other practically every day since then, specifically in the evenings when you do not usually work. A few significant developments had taken place since then, including — but not limited to — the Sokovian becoming an Avenger. You could tell she was apprehensive about it all, concerning the relatively unstable powers she holds; thus, you tried to reassure her whenever you could in moments when her anxieties became overwhelming.

You texted her, letting her know that you were coming over to make her dinner that night. Thankfully, she had training, so the surprise you had planned wouldn't be ruined. A couple of days prior, you researched different Sokovian recipes. You vaguely recalled something she said about her favorite food being from home, but you couldn't exactly recall the name of the dish. After a few minutes, you finally found it: Chicken Paprikash.

As the cooking was coming to an end, you heard your phone ding from the counter, indicating that you had received a text message. Quickly, you wiped your hands of the food remnants on the towel that was closest to you. When the screen lit up, you noticed the message was from Wanda, saying she would be down in a few minutes. Panic began to bubble within you, as the food wasn't done yet and you haven't even gotten the drinks poured. Surely, it is not actually the time you planned to meet—

6:00 PM. That was the time staring back at you on the kitchen clock. Although, you did not have the time to think about how to rectify the problem. Footsteps were heard behind you, and you heard the mystery person inhale deeply through the nose. "Wow," they exclaimed. You knew that accented voice from anywhere: Wanda.

Slowly, you turned on your heels. "Hey, Wanda," you replied, unsure of what to say considering you were not done cooking let alone planning on what to say once she arrived.

"Is that Paprikash?" she asked as she approached the pot on the stove to take a glance for herself.

You gave a shy nod in return, "Yeah, I know you've been stressed lately with this and all." You used your free hand to motion to the surrounding building, referring to the fact she became an Avenger. "So, I wanted to do something to help, to bring you comfort. And, I know you said once that your favorite food was something from home, but I couldn't remember the name of it. But, fortunately, I was able to find it with my expertise in searching things on the internet. Ok, wait... that sounds weird—"

You stopped rambling once Wanda turned away from the stove to face you. Immediately, you noticed the tears forming in her eyes. Being the anxious person you were, you had assumed this was because of something you had done wrong. "No, no. Please don't cry, Wands. Did I make it wrong? I can make something else, or I— I can change it if I need to..."

It appeared to be quite the opposite, though. Wanda walked toward where you were standing only a few feet away. She looked up at you, taking in the genuine expression of concern on your face. No one has ever cared this much for her, excluding the family she once had when they were alive. So, she wrapped her arms around your abdomen and pulled your body as close to hers as possible. With her head resting on your shoulder near the collarbone (and your head laying on her own), you both relished in the comfort of the embrace. You brought your arms to her back, alternating between trailing your hand in up-and-down motions and in circles. Never had a hug felt so warm and relieving.

"No," she broke the silence after a moment had passed. "It's perfect, truly, Y/N. It's everything. I— I don't know how to thank you."

"You being here is enough."

The two of you ate the dish together in the peace of your own company. You found a spare bottle of rosé in Tony's cabinets, taking it to the table to be poured as needed. She loved it, as she had anticipated; yet, she loved your reaction almost as much as the food itself. You had told her that you had never had Paprikash before, that this was the first time you had eaten the dish let alone make it (which is one of the reasons why you were nervous). So, she waited impatiently with her bottom lip between her teeth as you took the first bite.

You had to admit, it was very good. In fact, it was so good that you let out a moan due to the combination of flavors currently occurring in your mouth. Upon realizing the sound you just realized, blood began to rush to your cheeks; the wine did not help the involuntary blush forming. The Sokovian laughed, not noting the latter events, and the two of you resumed eating the food and drinking the wine as conversation flowed easily.

It felt like you were transported back in time to the night you first met, feeling a similar buzz radiating under your skin. It took a similar effect on Wanda; therefore, you two decided to retire to her bedroom in the compound for the evening. It was late and you were not exactly the most sober, so she didn't want you driving home.

"Well, how could I say 'no' to a sleepover?" you supplied, humorously.

She smiled, and a sort of gleam came into her emerald eyes. Having been practically raised by sitcoms, she had always wanted something like this during her youth: a cliché sleepover with her best friend. She told you as such, "Good. I'm excited... I've never had a sleepover before, so..."

The shock you felt from that statement must have been evident on your face, for the gleam began to fade a bit while her expression slightly fell. "Well, that just won't do. We have to make this the best, classic, all-American girl sleepover. We need movies, snacks, blankets, and pillows. Do you have a game? Actually, never mind that. We can just do a verbal game like Truth or Dare or 20 Questions."

The plan you began drafting out loud caused the shine to return to Wanda's eyes. For hours, you spent your time in a fort you two built out of several blankets and pillows on the floor. The space was confined, requiring the two of you to lay as close as humanly possible. You watched two movies on your laptop, then switched to playing some games. You ended up playing 20 Questions, wherein you discovered some interesting things about each other. To summarize the most important conclusions, it was found out that: she has a guilty pleasure for stealing other people's clothes (specifically, oversized items like sweats or shirts), and you often took smoke breaks when you got stressed or overwhelmed (she liked to joke, saying she could tell that you were a "little stoner" at heart). However, the most intriguing discovery that was unearthed during the game was the potential that the other was not straight. During a round in which you were asked about your celebrity crush, you quickly gave your answer: "Florence Pugh or Brittany Snow. I don't know; they're both hot, honestly."

While you weren't exactly ashamed of your sexuality, you weren't sure of her opinions regarding the subject and didn't want to risk losing her. It never really came up in past conversations. As you registered what you just admitted, you kept your gaze down toward the carpet where you two were sitting. She gave a hum of approval, "I totally get it. Brittany in Pitch Perfect? Stunning. Florence in the Little Women remake? Perfect."

You looked up, finally allowing your eyes to meet hers. Obviously, she could tell you were succumbing to the nerves of your mind (it also helps when her powers make sensing others' strong emotions very easy). She remained in the same position from before, but her hand reached for the one resting in your lap. Taking it in hers, she gave it a gentle squeeze; the grasp strong enough to let you know she's not going to leave you. "I do not care if you're gay, Y/N. You know that, right? I don't mind women myself from time to time. It honestly depends on their personality more than their gender, you know?"

You have never felt so relieved and understood by another individual. You acknowledged her with a quick, almost unnoticeable nod. "Good," she continued with her classic smile on her face. "Wanna watch another movie?"

Sheltered by the blanket structure, you two resumed the positions of laying on the floor. This time, as the movie played on the computer in your lap, you felt her head lean on your soldier. Then, her right hand gradually crept closer to your left hand. Minutes later, her fingers were threaded between yours. At first, your heart was beating fast because you were nervous — she was making you nervous. As if she sensed this (which she did), she was able to calm you by using her thumb to rub the back of your hand.

You didn't have time to think about what it all meant that night; the two of you immediately fell asleep, and the rather serious elements of the night were seldom mentioned. Although, you only had one thought relating to Wanda before succumbing to slumber: Oh God.

And I chose you, The one I was dancing with, In New York, no shoes, Looked up, at the sky and it was...

Honestly, you were not sure if you were going to ever mention these newfound feelings you felt for the Sokovian. You wanted her to come to you, relying on whether or not she felt comfortable. While you wanted nothing more than to know whether or not she returned the sentiment, you also recognized she is in a fragile position. For instance, what if you tell her, and she totally freaks and doesn't want to be friends anymore? Or, what if she thinks that you don't want to be friends if she doesn't like you back, leaving her thinking she'll lose you? To say you were spiraling oftentimes about the situation was an understatement.

It didn't occur all of the time, though. In fact, the times you were simply spending moments with Wanda were enough to satisfy you, for that's all you truly wanted at the end of the day: her and her happiness.

About four months after you had met at the party, you were laying in Wanda's room at the compound. You were scrolling through your phone, looking at emails from the past few days that you had missed. Wanda, on the other hand, was reading a book she had just bought from a local bookstore. The room was under a comfortable silence; that is, until Wanda broke the silence with a random question: "Have you ever seen stars? I mean, in the sky... as the movies show them?"

"You haven't?"

It was not the best reply, looking back on it. The surprised tone could come across as judgmental — and, it definitely must have. The Sokovian began to sink into herself, her gaze lowering and the volume of her voice almost completely reduced. "No, I haven't," she said in a shaky response. "When I lived near Novi Grad, there were rarely nights where the sky was clear of clouds and fog enough to see any stars. Also, being locked in a cell made it quite difficult in terms of getting outside to see them. I haven't really stopped to think about it again until now."

You realized your mistake, "Sorry, Wands. I didn't mean to say it like that, like I was judging you. It's just weird to think, I guess, that you haven't seen them." There was a slight pause in your speech, "You know what? Come on." You grabbed her arm, pulling her off of the bed with you. The sudden action caused her to drop her book, but she was too occupied with trying to figure out what you were up to care about the forgotten novel.

"Where are we going, Y/N?"

"You'll see," you replied in a confident but excited tone.

"Y/N," she chuckled, loosening up. "We don't have our shoes on."

As the two of you entered the elevator, you pushed the button to take you to the highest possible floor. "Eh, shoes are for losers, anyway."

The ride took a minute or two, but the doors eventually opened in an achingly slow manner. You knew the sky would be clear tonight, therefore there would be stars visible in the upstate New York region. You took her hand in yours and dragged her outside to the rooftop.

"Well, look up!" you said, surely.

Wanda took a deep breath, then she hesitantly lifted her head. She gasped at the sight: hundreds or thousands of little white dots littered the dark, night sky. It was beautiful; there was nothing to compare it to in that regard.

She hugged you, similarly to how she did the night you made her favorite dinner for the first time.

"Do you like it?" you whispered into the ear that was conveniently located close to your mouth.

The Sokovian gave a slight nod, "I love it. I don't think I have ever seen something so extraordinary."

You nodded your own head in an unspoken agreement. The two of you just stayed there, remaining in the comfort of each other's arms as you took in the sights around you. After several moments passed, Wanda suddenly lifted her head to look directly into your eyes.

"Dance with me," she unexpectedly requested. It was not posed as a question, so you didn't think you had a choice in the matter (not that you'd deny her of anything she wanted anyways).

You moved your arms to be placed on her shoulders, encircling her neck; her arms maintained their positions around your waist. She moved her body closer, leaning near to the point that her forehead was resting against yours. This position should've been awkward — it would've been had it been anyone else; with Wanda, it felt so natural. Under the stars, the two of you simply swayed in the cool breeze of the August air.

"Y/N?"

You hummed.

"I choose you."

Your heart must have skipped multiple beats at that moment, but it did not stop you from giving your own confession: "I choose you, too."

In a speed that can only be deemed as torturous, you waited as Wanda slowly leaned in closer. Her eyes were constantly switching between your eyes and your lips. "Can— Can I kiss you?"

"Please," you practically whimpered.

Her head finally tilted and got closer until it hit — absolute fireworks. As her lips gracefully touched yours, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut to fully experience the moment in the most sensual way. It was not rushed or needy; it was the opposite, defined by the intimacy and passion that cannot possibly be found elsewhere. You could not think about anything other than how her rose-colored lips felt against yours. It is like the moment in which you finally find that missing piece that perfectly fits, bringing the puzzle all together; she's the missing piece, and your life is the completed puzzle.

As the kiss ended, you reluctantly pulled away. Her eyes remained closed at first, but they opened soon after. Her piercing green eyes never failed to stun you, not since the first day your own eyes landed upon her. You took your right hand, pushing a few strands of hair that had fallen to go behind her ear. She took her bottom lip between her teeth.

"What are you nervous about?" you inquired, noting the habit.

Her eyebrows furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"You were biting your lip," you explain. "You only do that if you're nervous about something, like when you first talked about Sokovia or when you just wanted me to like the Paprikash because it's your favorite."

It was not the response she expected, but something about it made Wanda like you even more than she had previously. "Nothing, truly. I just really like you... just in case the kiss we had did not prove that enough."

"I can't even begin to describe how much I like you, Wanda. You make me so inexplicably happy; you have for a while now."

"A while, huh?" she teased, her signature smirk forming.

Unfortunately, so did your blush as you conceded, "About three months, give or take."

The Sokovian tried to do the mental work to deduce the time period, "Around the night of the sleepover?"

The blush on your cheeks brightened, and you gave a nod to affirm her response.

"We got there, eventually," she offered.

"Yeah," you agreed with a grin. "We did."

You couldn't resist the temptation any longer and shifted your head to give her more kisses. You started with light butterfly kisses on her jawline. Slowly but surely, you transferred to her cheek, to her forehead, to the tip of her nose, then — finally — locked your lips to hers.

If you could kiss her for hours, you would; so, you did. That night under the sea of stars, you two repeatedly exchanged kisses loaded with all of the feelings that had been pent up inside for a while.

The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me, And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was- The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust it grew between telephones The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon...

You weren't sure exactly when you knew it was love. Obviously, you have known you loved her as a person for a while considering she was your best friend; but, romantic love — loving her as a partner, your supposed other half — is entirely distinct from that sort of platonic love of friends and family.

In retrospect, you think it has to be New Year's Eve. It was below freezing outdoors, leaving residents confined to the inside of their homes. This was not an issue for you and your girlfriend, for you two would never complain about the need to cuddle with each other for extra warmth.

Due to the holiday, Tony was throwing another extravagant party, which you two had obviously been invited to attend. That is how you found yourself in this predicament:

You had been standing out on the balcony for about fifteen minutes; it was getting a bit hectic inside with many people being in attendance. Normally, you'd just seek Wanda for comfort; however, you couldn't find her, leaving you to your own devices. The only immediate solution you could think of was to exit the situation by standing on the balcony in the cold air.

Though you'd been lost in thought for a while, a pair of familiar hands brought you back to the present. They tangled around your waist, one pulling you close to the front of the body behind you and the other holding a glass of red wine.

"дорогая, what are you doing out here? It's freezing," she moved her face closer to your neck. You tilted your head to the side in order to give her more access. She took advantage of this offer, peppering sweet kisses to the side of your neck. "Are you okay?" she asks, the concern evident in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm okay now," you confirmed, trying to ease her mind in the way that she does yours. "I just felt overwhelmed in there... a lot of people."

She gave a hum of agreement, "I don't even know how he knows that many people."

Her comment elicited a small laugh from you, which she took as a good sign of your emotional well-being. You let out a whine of annoyance when she briefly let go of you. As you turned to face her, though, your arm must have nudged the hand holding the glass of wine. Before anything could be done, the red liquid began to seep into your attire.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," Wanda raised her empty hand to cover her mouth in shock. "дорогая, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spill it. Oh my God, I ruined your clothes."

Meanwhile, you tried saying her name multiple times to try to stop her ranting. You understood it was not her fault; if anything, it was mainly yours for lacking basic spatial awareness. Eventually, you realized she would not stop on her own accord; thus, you placed your lips on hers in a final attempt to get her to slow down before she officially spiraled.

When you finally pulled away, she kept her eyes close because she was afraid of your rejection. "Wanda?" you pleaded. "Wanda? Baby, can you please open your eyes for me?"

In an apprehensive manner, she revealed her eyes to you. If the tears were not sufficient in proving her internal panic, you could feel the anxiety that was radiating from her body. "It's okay. I promise that it is okay, baby. Accidents happen, okay?"

She sniffled, clearly upset but relieved that you were not mad at her for the mistake. You raised your hands to her face, using your thumbs to wipe the lonely tears that began to slowly roll down her lightly-freckled cheeks. As you did so, the two of you stared into each other's eyes in an endless endeavor. You could barely make out the sound of a countdown coming from indoors:

"10..."

You moved to be as close to her as you could.

"9..."

"Wanda..." you said.

"8..."

You kept your thumbs stagnant now, simply cupping her face between your hands.

"7..."

"Y/N?"

"6..."

She followed suit, circling your torso with her hands.

"5..."

"I— I want to tell you something."

"4..."

"What, дорогая?" she pondered aloud, genuinely curious as to what you were about to say.

"3..."

"I love you, Wanda Maximoff. Not even with just my heart, I love you with my whole being."

"2..."

Your novel confession caused her breath to hitch in her throat. The tears that you had just wiped away were now returning with fervor.

"1..."

"I love you, too. I love you so much."

Thus, as the clock struck midnight signaling the start of a new year, you kissed the woman you loved with such a deep, irreplaceable passion. You felt like you could never come down from this high.

When the silence came we were shaking blind and hazy, How the hell did we lose sight of us again? Sobbin' with your head in your hands Ain't that the way shit always ends?

Looking back on your relationship, it was evident that you were susceptible to naïveté. When the clock strikes midnight, it does not stay midnight. The minutes will keep passing, for time does not stop for anything or anyone. Unfortunately, you had to find this out the hard way:

"Y/N?" you heard your girlfriend call you from a nearby room.

"In here!"

As she walked into the room, there was an unusual heaviness in her step. The atmosphere around you, too, was spoiled; it made you feel uneasy.

"Is something wrong, Wands?"

Given that she couldn't meet your gaze and continued to play with the rings on her fingers, it was evident that she didn't want to say whatever she had to, or that she simply didn't know how to do it in the first place: "I have to leave. I won't be back for a while."

"What do you mean?" you became even more confused. "Wanda, what the hell? What do you mean you have to leave? You have to go where? Go... Why?"

She stepped further back in favor of pacing the room. "I— I don't know, Y/N. They want me... the government, I mean... because of this mess between Tony and Steve. Natasha is setting up a safe house and a fake identity for me somewhere, most likely not on this continent. I'm so sorry. I don't want to go, but you're not safe as long as I'm here. I can't let you get hurt because of me... that has happened enough times in my life."

"No, Wanda," you cried out, not believing the words were actually true. "No! I— this isn't happening. No, you're not leaving."

"дорогая..." she trailed off, unsure of how to express her sympathy.

"No!" you began to yell, officially beyond upset. "You can't leave me; I refuse. I don't care whether you think I'm safe or not. You don't get to make that decision for me; we make that choice together. I want to be with you, Wanda! I love you; please don't leave me."

The sight unfolding before the Sokovian was heartbreaking. She could only repeat her earlier words, "I'm sorry, дорогая... I will always love you, Y/N, no matter what."

With your arms shakily encircled around your noticeably trembling body, you attempted to find solace. Further, your red face had tears flowing with no end. Wanda eventually gathered the encourage approach you. Initially, you tried to resist it by pushing her away or shrugging her off. You were so frustrated, wanting to show her that you were upset she was leaving you when you two could have stayed together. But, you gave in, for you'll always need her comfort in the end. You probably looked pathetic as you held onto her, sobbing into her chest with your arms clutching hers as if she'd fade away at any moment. Then again, you have never felt your heart physically break as much as it did that day.

Unfortunately, that sentiment didn't last very long. Only a few months later you received a call from an unknown number. Before the Avengers left and began to hide around the globe, you never would have answered the call of an unknown number. However, you know Wanda was also told not to contact you. At least, she would not be able to contact you with her personal phone, which she had left at your place with you.

Actually, you were on her phone when it happened. Oddly, you were feeling okay that day. It felt like the weight of the sadness was lifting, beginning to understand this situation would all be temporary. So, you allowed yourself to finally open her phone and scroll through all of the pictures and videos she had of you two. As you were watching a video that she took of you and her at Christmas last year, the call from the unknown number came through on your own phone. You stood silent for a moment, as if the phone would sense your presence and stop ringing if you moved a muscle. Your subconscious freeze ended, and you scrambled to the phone upon thinking about the possibility that Wanda is finally calling you after these past few months on the run.

You were close; the phone call was from Natasha. You knew she had been keeping tabs on Wanda in the beginning. You assumed she was currently acting as the middleman for a message from Wanda — you were very wrong.

"Hello?"

"Y/N?" the voice came through the speaker.

"Natasha? Is that really you? Hello? Oh my God, is everything alright? Wanda... how's Wanda? Have you heard from her? She hasn't contacted me at all this whole time, and I'm starting to get worried. Has it been too long? Natasha, what is happening? I'm scared..."

"Y/N..."

You didn't like that tone. It's the one someone uses when they know something is wrong, but they don't want to tell you that said thing is wrong. It was at that point you knew something was really wrong.

"No, Natasha. No. Tell me. I need to know. I love her, Natasha. I deserve to know."

"Wanda... she's— she's gone."

Time will never stop for anything or anyone; that principle was evident long ago when you two first confessed your love for each other on the balcony on New Year's Eve. That does not mean time cannot exponentially slow down. For at this moment, that is exactly what happened. As if your body took over for your mind, you went on autopilot: hanging up the phone on Natasha without any words being said and falling onto your knees in a fit of despair. The sob released from within can only be described as primitive, and the feeling as permanent. You clutched your chest, similar to the way you did when Wanda first told you she'd have to leave months ago.

That is not to say you blame Wanda or anyone around you, including yourself, for the outcome of today. You know there was no way of knowing, so logically nothing could've been changed in the end nor the beginning.

You were bound to be alone. Wanda wouldn't be there to hold your hand when you watched a movie, gently kiss the side of your neck when you were overwhelmed, or worry herself at the silly mistakes she made; she wouldn't be there to roll her eyes at your admittedly stupid jokes, kiss your lips while you made dinner for the two of you, or hold you in bed after a long day or a terrible nightmare. But, most importantly, Wanda — the love of your life — wouldn't be there to get married to you, raise the three children you two always wanted (because "one is not enough and two is average, but four is definitely too much"), or experience the other joys of spending the rest of your lives together as you two had intended.

At first, you were just sad all of the time. It was an endless pit of despair, rendering you hopeless. You had your whole life planned with her being in it; how could you ever live that same life, especially happily, now that she's not here to experience it with you?

Then, a switch occurred in your mind one day. The sadness quickly faded into a wave of hateful, vengeful anger. It felt like your body and soul were constantly plagued with so much anger and hurt, because how dare this happen to you two? How dare this happen to her after she's already been through and lost so much? And, how dare this happen to you after you finally found your person?

The worst of it all is it felt like you still see her everywhere, from the compound to the grocery store. Even today, there are constant reminders making it impossible for you to escape the maroon lens Wanda had left on your life. You had once perceived the maroon to be a sign of warmth and love, of Wanda herself; how could you possibly have known that one day all it would come to mean was the seething red of anger?

End.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #marvel imagines #limarieb #limarieb wanda maximoff #taylor swift #songfic

[limarieb]

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist

[click here to return to the main masterlist.]

a: angst; f: fluff; s: smut; h/c: hurt/comfort ☆: personal favorite

One-shots

☆ love is a double-edged sword (f, h/c)

Summary: Falling in love with your presumed-to-be-straight best friend could have been possibly the worst, most cliché thing you have ever done. But, it could also have been the best. [high school!au]

sweet [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 ] (f, h/c)

Summary: You were born completely deaf, unable to fully learn how to read lips and constantly finding your hearing aids uncomfortable. On your venture for coffee, you find yourself overwhelmed (to the point of escape) when you are being spoken to by a (very pretty) woman who you cannot understand. Confusion and chaos arise on both ends. You return that same week, ready for the hateful confrontation that might take place. Fortunately, that "hateful" confrontation does not happen. [barista!wanda au]

(shade of) maroon → (f, h/no c)

Summary: The development of your relationship with Wanda from its glorious beginning to its bitter end. (Inspired by ‘Maroon’ by Taylor Swift.)

i come around (when you least expect me) → (a, f)

Summary: After a one-night stand during a party, you find yourself in an odd gray area with your best friend's sister. It just so happens that your best friend's sister is also the person that has been making your life a living hell for the last few years... all without your best friend knowing. [high school!au]

so high school → (f)

Summary: Growing up, you could never understand how people your age were so romantically interested in other people. You begin to understand for the first time, however, when you encounter a certain Sokovian during your first semester of university.

Headcanons/Drabbles

wanda maximoff headcanons [01] → (f)

Summary: Headcanons about first meeting Wanda and how you got together.

wanda maximoff headcanons [02] → (f)

Summary: Headcanons about grumpy!reader and your relationship with a (mostly) pure, happy Wanda.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel imagines #limarieb wanda maximoff #limarieb #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #limarieb masterlist #limarieb wanda maximoff masterlist

[limarieb]

wanda maximoff headcanons [01]

Warnings: brief mention of loss (it is canon compliant…), brief mention of internalized homophobia

A/N: these headcanons are canon-compliant and are independent of my one-shots and such. please let me know if you want more of my headcanons (compliant or non-compliant) thru this link — i have so many lol.

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

…

when you first meet her, it was after coming home from the fallout in Sokovia. the two of you never crossed paths on the ground, but you knew she was powerful from the burst of energy you felt when Pietro had fallen (you did not know this until later, though).

you hesitated on introducing yourself and trying to get to know her at first. part of you wanted to give her space, given the course of recent events, but the other part of you could not help but be utterly fascinated by her.

therefore, the first time the two of you spoke was two days after returning to the compound. Wanda had limited herself to her bedroom and brief appearances in the kitchen and the training room. in a moment of bravery, you decided you were finally going to formally introduce yourself and put your best foot forward.

you spent that morning researching Sokovian cuisine. you were not the best cook, but you were not the worst either. thus, you settled on a relatively simply dish and decided to make two servings: one for you, the other of your new teammate.

it is shocking that you do not drop the two dishes on your way to her bedroom. shaking from anxiety, your knuckles barely tap the door. you wonder if she could even hear you knocking. before you can knock again, though, the door is cracked open.

Wanda is surprised to see you on the other side. it is not that she is inherently opposed to your presence; it's just that she does not know you very well. to say she does not like strangers, especially within the confines of her bedroom, was an understatement.

however, her eyes drift downwards from your face, and she notes the dishes in your hands. the familiar smell is comforting. two days ago, it would have probably made her sob; today, though, she is able to provide a soft smile with her tears contained. so, she widens the door and allows you to enter.

you take the chance to walk into her room cautiously (not because you are afraid of her but because you are afraid of scaring her in some way). Wanda watches your actions closely, almost quizzically, as you set the dishes on a nearby desk, finally turning to face her.

the two of you bonded on some level that night. you told her some stories from your past, from growing up in the States to your journey with joining SHIELD. Wanda did not share as much in return (and you understand why); but when she did mention some part of her past, you listened attentively.

as weeks pass, the two of you only grow closer and closer. you watched her favorite sitcoms together, and she made dinner for the two of you each week. most times, she would choose a Sokovian dish, and you loved each one.

(when you moan from the delicious meal and tell her as such, she smiles, and a soft blush floods her cheeks. you were too engrossed in the food to notice.)

your favorite thing that you introduced her to was spotify. from a young age, you loved music. there was something about certain songs that made you feel something like nothing else could. so, you made sure to download it for her and show her how to use it.

(you made her a playlist titled "for my little witch," inspired by the nickname you recently branded her with. each morning, Wanda would listen to each song you added throughout the previous day.)

her current favorite artists include taylor swift, phoebe bridgers, lorde, and fiona apple.

Wanda starts to develop feelings — romantic feelings — for you about two months after you had come to her door with dinner. at first, she wonders if it is simply codependency — perhaps she was merely attached to you due to the fact you made an effort to get close to her earlier than others on the team?

however, she knows it is more than friendship (at least, on her end) when she watched you lay out the food items out on the blanket. the sun was in the process of going down, creating this hazy orange appearance in the sky. you had decided that day to take her out for a picnic, except this time, you were preparing all of the foods — more specifically, you were preparing all of the foods you grew up with as a child. there was something about the glint in your eye when placing the ham and cheese sandwiches on the blanket that made Wanda's heart skip a beat.

(that does not mean she was keen to accept her feelings at first. given her upbringing in eastern europe during the 90s, she was always taught a woman should only feel this way with a man. moreover, it is not like she had much experience in the romance department due to her years with HYDRA. she gets over this issue somehow, having this odd, albeit vivid, dream one night of her talking to Pietro about you, about her feelings for you. 'i did not see that coming,' he had said. 'you falling for an avenger? wow. she sounds nice, though.' he noticed her apprehension. 'it is okay to let yourself be happy, Wanda, even if it is with her. that is all i could ever want for you.')

(it is safe to say she cried the following morning.)

she begins to wonder if you feel the same once you add a few new songs to the playlist one day: 'sparks fly,' 'we fell in love in october,' '400 lux,' 'crush culture,' and 'you are in love.'

(she definitely does not lay in her bed that next morning with butterflies floating throughout her entire body about what this could possibly mean.)

you were a coward. you knew you could not confess your ever-growing feelings for Wanda verbally, afraid you would spill your guts out if you even tried. so, you opted to do it the only way you knew how: hint at your feelings through the songs you added. retrospectively, it was so stupid.

thankfully, Wanda was not, and she got the hint. though she was often relatively quiet, she could be unusually confident around you. maybe it was your constant awkwardness around her (which she found endearing and, sometimes, entertaining). she decided she would bring it up later went the two of you had your weekly dinner in her room.

"so, i listened to the songs you added yesterday."

"oh? what um- what did you think?"

"i liked them..."

(you stayed silent, continuing to eat the food she made, still shocked that she was bringing it up right now.)

"... i couldn't help but notice they all had a common theme, though."

"hmm."

"if i didn't know better, i would think this was your way of saying something... to me."

you began rambling, apologizing if you made her uncomfortable and promising to not do anything like that again. before you can get very far, however, she stops you by grabbing your hand, weaving her fingers between yours, and squeezing it.

(your mind is screaming at how soft her hands are. then, it is screaming at the fact that she is holding your hand.)

Wanda does not say anything, looking directly into your eyes.

she takes this as her chance to lean closer toward you, noses lightly brushing. knowing you would not be the one to officially break the distance (not only were you a coward, but you were a 'self-proclaimed believer in chivalry'), Wanda finally leans forward enough that your lips graze hers, softly but surely.

it only lasts for a few seconds before she pulls away with a smile on her face, but those were the best few seconds of your life thus far.

(she had vowed to never read your mind without permission, but your mind is practically screaming past its mental walls and into hers: 'oh my god. oh my god. she kissed me. she actually kissed me.')

she chuckles at your internal response and leans forward to place a peck on your lips before grabbing the (now) empty and dirty dishes from dinner and taking them back to the kitchen. in her exit, she leaves you in her room, dumbfounded but ecstatic at what had just occurred.

End.

#wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #limarieb wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff headcanons

[limarieb]

100 Followers One-shot Celebration! (POLL)

thank you guys for following me :,) i hope every story i write gives you each a little reprieve from your daily life and whatnot. to celebrate, i wanted to give you guys the choice about which story i write/publish next! both are au's and will be released eventually (so which ever one is not picked WILL be written and published at some point i swear!)

(requests are still open btw if none of these tickle your fancy)

(p.s., sorry i haven't posted much recently -- as it turns out, work, university applications, and the holidays keep you VERY busy lol)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #limarieb #marvel imagines #limarieb wanda maximoff

[limarieb]

it's so sweet knowing that you love me (though we don't need to say it to each other)

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You were born completely deaf, unable to fully learn how to read lips and constantly finding your hearing aids uncomfortable. On your venture for coffee, you find yourself overwhelmed (to the point of escape) when you are being spoken to by a (very pretty) woman who you cannot understand. Confusion and chaos arise on both ends. You return that same week, ready for the hateful confrontation that might take place. Fortunately, that "hateful" confrontation does not happen.

Warnings: none (a bit of angst, but then it's all fluff)

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: this little collection of one-shots is still one of my favorite things to think about occasionally... perhaps i will consider making a third part if you give me some of your ideas on what the third part should consist of...

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

Click Here for Part 2 to the 'Sweet' One-Shot Collection

...

From an early age, you realized that you were different from other people. When you would go to various places with your parents, random strangers always tried to talk to you. You couldn’t hear them, of course, considering the fact that you were born entirely deaf; adults and children alike never seem to understand that, though, and continued their quests of trying to get you to talk with your mouth rather than your hands.

Due to your innate inability to hear, you grew up learning sign language as your primary language. It wasn’t until you were four years old when you were lost in the supermarket, frantically trying to find your parents, that you realized the majority of people do not comprehend your language. Growing up in upstate New York, there weren’t exactly many people like you. There were not many people that felt ostracized by their community for something beyond their control, nor were there many individuals jumping at the opportunity to make accommodations for situations like yours. Thus, the most you were able to do in terms of communication was writing and reading in English and ‘speaking’ in sign language. Unlike some other people who were deaf, you were never able to learn how to read others’ lips, which frustrated you to no end.

And, honestly? It sucked. It was a lonely experience, and you spent many nights of your childhood (and adulthood) crying to your parents about it. It broke their hearts seeing their child experiencing such a cumbersome set of emotions and experiences that most do not even witness in a lifetime, and you knew they carried a pang of guilt about it all. You wish they didn’t, though, because you know it’s not their fault and that they have been trying their best to help you thrive despite your challenges. 

It wasn’t all bad, darkness, and negativity. In fact, there are many moments where you found your deafness as a sort of power or unique ability (instead of an inability). It allowed you to sense things differently. Your favorite way to decompress was feeling certain textures, especially the yarn blanket your mother made years ago, and putting on loud music so the vibrations would flow through the medium of the speakers and into your body via your fingers or your feet. Something about it all was therapeutic.

You received a pair of hearing aids as a child, but you did not necessarily prefer them. In circumstances where there were a lot of people in a given room, the sensations would become quite painful and confusing for your brain to untangle and compute all at once. Ergo, you only really use them on the occasion where you know prior that there were gonna be few people and low amounts of background noise, like when you are working one-on-one with a client.

Given that you were going to the local coffee place, you elected to leave hearing aids at home. You use your phone to place a mobile order, effectively removing the barrier of needing to talk to an employee to order. You walked into the shop and began your path towards the pick-up area. Reaching and sorting through the other orders, you eventually come to the realization that yours is not there. You figured that the staff was simply behind on crafting the drinks, so you wait for a few minutes.

As you anxiously played with your fingers, one of the employees approaches you. She was slightly taller than you, but she was also undeniably beautiful. Her long auburn hair was tied back, held in place by a mere tie. You caught a brief glance of her eyes, quickly noticing how green they were. In the presence of such a pretty lady, your anxiety began to rise. She gave a shy smile and began moving her lips to form words. Due to your overly anxious state and inability to read her lips, you rapidly became overwhelmed. You look behind her to see her coworkers behind the counter snickering at you two. Immediately, you assumed they were laughing solely at you, talking about how the only reasonable explanation for your lack of response was stupidity beyond any repair. 

So, you turned around and walked out of the door. You felt so embarrassed , more than you have ever felt since high school. All you wanted to do was go home and decompress.

Wanda stood there in a state of shock. One second, she was there trying to explain to you how she couldn’t make your drink because they were out of oat milk; the next, you were gone.

Did I say something wrong? Wanda thought to herself as she watched you escape her workplace.

Hanging her head in shame, she retreated to behind the counter where her coworkers, Bucky and Sam, were still laughing at her failed attempt to have a conversation with you. The brunette has watched you for a while from afar; she knew your favorite drink like the back of her hand, and she always tried to make sure your favorite spot in the corner of the café was kept neat and tidy for you. In her eyes, you were the most beautiful creature to walk on this planet. She would give up anything to know you as something more than just a customer.

Wanda let out a sigh of frustration mixed with sadness, leaning against the counter with her head in her hands. She finally broke the monotony of the undying laughter, “Would the two of you stop laughing? It’s not funny. Oh my god, that was so embarrassing.”

“Cheer up, little witch,” Bucky started. “There are more fish in the sea.”

“I don’t want other fish, though. I want her,” she tried to reason. “She’s so pretty, Bucky. And, after months, I finally worked up the courage to talk to her, and she just walked away from me.”

The latter part made Sam raise an eyebrow, “What do you mean she just walked away from you? Did you say something that could’ve upset her?”

“I don’t think so,” Wanda tried to think back. “I was just starting to explain how we were out of oat milk, so I couldn’t make her drink. But, before I could even give her some alternative choices, she just… left.”

Sam let out a hum, unsure of what exactly to reply. The three employees went back to work, yet Wanda was definitely not thinking about her encounter with you while making the various orders.

A few days had passed since the incident. Even though you vowed never to return to the coffee place (your favorite coffee joint), a conversation with your mother left you feeling more empowered and confident about it all. Her facial expressions and rapid hand motions displaying her anger at the workers forced a smile out of you. 

Thus, you decided that you were going to return to the coffee place the next morning. You repeated the same mobile order but decided to keep your phone in hand in case you needed to type something mean and vulgar at the employees who left you feeling humiliated the other day.

You grasp the handle and pull the door forward, granting yourself entry into the once comforting setting.

With a fleeting glance to the counter, your eyes briefly meet hers. It was too late to turn back now, so you cautiously walked to the familiar pick-up area. However, your drink seems to be missing again today. Great.

You look up to see the same woman from before warily approaching you, and it takes everything you have in your body to not flee the scene. Similar to the previous time she walked up to you, the girl began to speak again. She did not get very far before you opened the notes app on your phone and started to furiously type. By the expression on her face, you could tell she was surprised at the sudden action but waited for you to stop typing. 

After a minute passed, you finally turned the phone to show your message to the woman:

Hi, there. I’m deaf, and I don’t have hearing aids on at this moment. Anything that you’ve said, I did not hear… at all. 

You watched with patience as the other girl slowly and carefully skimmed the message. Her head tilted and her mouth opened to form an O-like shape, and you could pinpoint this moment with exact accuracy as the moment she realized that you were not (and were never) purposefully ignoring her — you couldn’t hear her; that’s why you must have left suddenly.

She shyly smiled and nodded towards your phone. With a quirked eyebrow, you offer it to her. She happily takes it from you to begin typing a message of her own:

Hi! I’m so sorry I didn’t realize before… I’m sure it must’ve been frustrating to just have someone talking AT you rather than WITH you. Is that why you left suddenly last time?

You weren’t really sure why you were surprised by her message, specifically the last part. Did she remember? After thinking for a few minutes, you form a reply:

Yeah, I guess… I was just very overwhelmed, and I saw some of the others laughing. I just felt bad, idk. So, I left.

You definitely did not expect the frown that appeared on her face when you walked in there today. She pointed to the phone, and you gave it to her once more. 

I’m sorry… if it makes you feel any better, they weren’t laughing at you or anything. Actually, they were laughing at me, not you.

As you read the new message, your face visibly contorted into confusion and disbelief.

What do you mean?

With the phone in her hands again, she typed: 

I’ve been wanting to talk to you for months, Y/N. The last time you were here, I finally tried to talk to you - at least about how we were out of oat milk for your drink. I guess they found you walking away without saying anything VERY comical. 

It was your turn to be in a complete and utter state of shock.

Oh… Wait, how do you know my name? 

She wrote her reply fairly quick: 

Who do you think makes your drink every time? ;)

As she passes the phone back to you, she personifies the wink in real life. Immediately, you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

Well, I feel like it’s fair to ask for your name now - an 'eye for an eye’ type of thing.

She subconsciously bites her bottom lip as she slid the phone over with her reply:

Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.

Something about her name and connecting it to her made you feel… light. 

Well, Wanda, I’m here talking to you now, aren’t I? Why did you want to talk to me before? Am I that intimating?

It was her turn to fall victim to blushing, reading your questions regarding her apprehension of talking to you.

Intimidating? No, not really. Really pretty, though? Can neither confirm nor deny.

You released a small, quiet chuckle at her compliment; Wanda, on the other hand, has to remember for a second how to breathe because she heard you for the first time. She loved it, and she only wants to hear more. 

Give me your phone?

You sit there in confusion but comply with her unspoken request nonetheless. You give you her unlocked phone again, except you notice there’s no new message in your notes app conversation. You raise your eyebrow, showing you don’t really understand what just happened. Wanda, however, just winks at you again and slowly returns to her spot behind the counter. 

You never found out what she did at that moment on your phone until you receive a text a few minutes later from a foreign contact labeled “Wanda ;)”:

Wanda ;)  [9:47 AM]

Hey, sorry to cut our convo short - I had to help the customers. Meet me for dinner after work? 6 pm? :)

How could you say no to a request from her? You look up from your phone to see her biting her lip, hiding a smile as she makes drinks for other people. You look back down at your own device to respond:

You [9:48 AM]

I’ll be there. :)

You don’t remember being treated with such care and understanding before, especially by who was merely a stranger moments ago and has seemingly little experience with a person who is deaf. Wanda was different, though — a good different. She initiated a feeling of happiness and freedom within you that had not been experienced prior to that day. Most people did not consider trying to help you or finding different ways to talk to you, but Wanda did; moreover, she did so because she wanted to — she wanted to actually know you. 

It was increasingly evident that you were beyond infatuated with her. The night went so well, in fact, that you changed her contact from “Wanda ;)” to “Wanda <3” after you met her for your date that same evening.

End.

#wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #limarieb #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader

[limarieb]

when you're above feeling it still, tell me it's love (tell me it's real)

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You and Wanda have been dating for six months now, and it has been a constant feeling of bliss. When Wanda fails to acknowledge your anniversary, you feel quite heartbroken. Fortunately, your Sokovian barista of a girlfriend has an excellent reason for not showing up. (continuation of the "sweet" one-shot universe)

Warnings: none (a bit of angst, but then it's all fluff)

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: thank you all for being patient! i have been in the process of completing an 8 day work week... so, it's not very fun, but at least i am able to post this now! p.s., requests are open! (send anything — it makes work more tolerable lol)

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

Click here for Part 3 to the ‘Sweet’ One-shot Collection

...

Dating Wanda Maximoff has been nothing short of amazing; she has made the past six months considerably the best six months of your life.

Despite having little to no experience with people who were hearing impaired, she was able to quickly pick up on certain things with relative ease. She could easily read the meaning behind some of your body language and facial expressions: furrowed eyebrows meant you were confused, frustrated, or angry; clenched fists were a sign you were becoming (or already were) overstimulated and needed to be removed from the situation; or, Wanda’s personal favorite was your habit of taking her hand in yours and using your fingers to delicately play with the various rings that littered her own whenever you were anxious or simply wanted your girlfriend’s attention.

You initially were going to try wearing your hearing aids around her, but you both got used to you not wearing them — there was no point. You found little ways to communicate without any spoken language, ranging from little handwritten notes that Wanda leaves you (which you save all of them in a shoebox under your bed because you absolutely adore the heartwarming gesture) to simply typing in the notes app or on any electronic document for effortless methods of dialogue. Wanda was even able to pick up some signs here and there from spending so much time with you and your family. They were simple signs, such as ‘Hello’ , ‘How are you?’ , ‘Are you okay?’ , but — even so — you found it comforting that she would learn, remember, and utilize them when she could. Most people did not consider assuming the extra, albeit very little, effort.

She even developed and became a part of your ‘decompress’ routine. If you two were in a crowded space or a space you could not leave, she would take your hand and run a single digit down each of your fingers. Her finger would slowly and softly graze your own, grounding you within minutes. If you did have the opportunity to escape or be alone with her, she would wrap you in a tight hug from behind. Her arms would encircle your body around your ribs, and her legs would similarly trap your hips in place. Oftentimes, you both fell asleep during those moments; the comfort she brought you by wrapping you up tightly in her embrace, and the comfort you brought her simply by having you near was unbeatable.

Over the past month or two, you noticed some changes regarding Wanda. For instance, within the first month of you two being exclusive, you had her work schedule practically memorized like the back of your hand; thus, you found it odd when she would decline your request for dinner on account of “working late” later in the evening… when she wasn’t working.

Though you found it strange, you tried not to dwell on it. You didn’t want to come off as some jealous girlfriend stereotype and end up driving her away; at the same time, however, you cannot deny yourself that she was obviously keeping a secret from you. It hurt, but you wouldn’t say anything — at least, not yet.

The final straw came when you had planned a special evening for you two, given it was your six-month anniversary. You had never had a partner of any sort — you barely even had friends — so, this was something very special to you. You had waited for this date for weeks now, allocating every minute into perfecting the day for her. You were going to surprise her by making a romantic meal for dinner: paprikash (her favorite dish), candlelight, soft lights. You had prepared your bedroom for a marathon of her favorite sitcoms, which had taken you forever to find Dick van Dyke with accurate subtitles. And, if the night went well, then…

Unfortunately, you guess you’d never find out. She barely reached out to you that day, let alone come visit you for a date on your anniversary. It seemed as if she did not believe the day held the same weight as you, or she didn’t remember. Either way, it had you feeling down. You continued preparing the food and setting for the dinner whilst trying to remain calm, but your nerves were getting the better of you. You whip the phone out of your back pocket, thinking a quick text to her couldn’t hurt:

You [5:38 PM]

Hi, baby - free for dinner with me tonight?

Several moments pass before you get a response from her. As soon as you felt the vibration from your phone indicating a new message had come through, you practically jumped for it. Reading the message forced your slight smile into a frown.

Wanda <3 [6:03 PM]

Hi, Y/N… I don’t think I’ll be there in time :( I’ll come over after work, though? 8:30ish? Save me something good. ;)

While her flirtatious mannerisms — even over text messaging — would normally put you in a good mood, this text did the exact opposite…

Firstly, she barely calls you by your first name anymore. It was always some sickeningly sweet pet name like “baby,” “babe,” or “darling.”

Secondly, she didn’t even work today; she told you as much two weeks ago.

What was she hiding from you?

You couldn’t even muster up the energy to clean up the remnants of the failed dinner; instead, you elected to go upstairs to your room and sulk in a much-needed decompression session with your favorite knitted blanket — you try not to wish it was her helping decompress you.

Wanda waltzed into your home using the key you gave her for emergencies. The brunette hated lying to you, but she deemed it necessary, at least this once. 

She made her way past the kitchen and dining room, not without releasing an almost inaudible gasp about the sight before her: the empty dishes, the unlit candles, the food — her favorite food, because of course you would remember it and learn how to make it for her. She stepped on the worn floorboards with her toes, as if she were intruding on someone else’s special occasion; her eyes scanned her surroundings, but she failed to find you no matter where they viewed.

You had to have been there since your car was in the driveway, so Wanda decided to check upstairs next.

When she hesitantly opened your door, her gaze was met with your body laying on your bed. You were curled up in a ball facing away from her, wrapped up with the blanket. Unaware of her presence, you continued sniffling. The scene shattered Wanda’s heart into millions of pieces.

Deciding to finally let you know she was there, she went to kneel in front of where your head lay. Even when her absence is what caused your distress, it was her presence that currently brought you comfort. She tilted her head, which you recognized as her analyzing the situation before her. 

Before you could figure out a way to say anything, she lifted her left hand to hold the right side of your face. Instinctively, you pushed your cheek into her palm, seeking out as much of her comfort as possible. Then, she lifted her right hand. Instead of bringing it to you like with her left hand, she used it to sign:

Are you okay?

With that, your bottom lip trembled, and the dams holding all of the emotions relating to Wanda and her absence broke.

When you finally became calm enough to a point of reply, you simply stated with signs:

You weren’t here. Where were you?

You weren’t even sure if she’d completely understand, but she shockingly did:

I know. I’m sorry. I was working.

However, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew she was lying, so you shook your head and rotated your body to face away from her. Initially, you wished to avoid any confrontation, but with her here now in such a sympathetic state conflicting with what you know… it’s all so confusing and frustrating .

Although, Wanda would not give up. You were visibly in a state of distress, relating to something she did. Pushing her own sentiments aside for the moment, she placed her left hand on your shoulder. It allowed you to know she was still there — still trying — before she grasped it in order to pull you back to your original position. 

What is wrong, Y/N?

You shook your head again. 

No work.

Wanda’s eyes widened a bit, a result of confusion and nervousness of what you meant by that. She returned the phrase as a question to you with furrowed eyebrows, attempting to show confusion — she had to clarify what you were trying to say.

“No work?”  

This time, you nodded shakily. 

I know you didn’t work today. You said.

At this point, Wanda couldn’t lie anymore — even if it meant ruining the surprise that she had planned for you herself. She had to come clean.

You are correct. I did not work today. 

Honestly, you did not expect her to admit to it as quickly as she did. You raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue: 

For the past two months, I have been taking classes with the local college here after work. Sign Language.

It was your turn for your eyes to widen in shock; your girlfriend had never spoken in sign language for more than a few basic phrases. Even though there were a few errors made on her part, your heart couldn’t help growing a few sizes at what was happening before your own eyes.

Y/N, I wanted the first time I said this to be in your language. I wanted to learn for you. It was a surprise for our anniversary. I know I am late tonight, and I’m sorry. Class ran late tonight, and-

As it turns out, Wanda rambles in English and sign language. It made you smile, but you needed to hear what she had to say. You cut off her rambles with a quick peck of your lips to hers. It was short but reflected the abundance of intimacy in your relationship. You pulled away while maintaining the small smile, gesturing for her to hurry up and get to the point of this speech.

She took a deep breath, releasing it with a slight grin that came from your lips touching hers.

Happy anniversary. I love you, Y/N.

And, just like that, it felt like your lungs stopped. You weren’t sure if you’d ever felt such a feeling — such an unconditional love — before in your life. Some lone tears began to escape your eyes again, but this time the love of your life was there to wipe them with her thumbs.

I love you, Wanda. Happy anniversary. I want to marry you one day. 

Wanda, still being a novice to portions of sign language, did not capture the last part of your love declaration:

What was the last thing you said?

You gave her a smirk as your only reply. Guess she’ll have to take more classes , you thought.

The brunette rolled her eyes. You knew you’d (figuratively) be in trouble when she learned the sign for ‘marry’; for now, you just wanted to lay in your bed with her, your love.

End.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff #limarieb

[limarieb]

☾main masterlist☽

*updated as of April 24, 2024

Welcome to my blog! Some of you may know me from ao3 (limarieee) or from Wattpad (mackiebeth); however, I figured I should expand my works to Tumblr. Here, you will be able to access all of my available works as they are released on the platform.

Click here to visit the b-side of limarieb [18+ only].

FAQ

Who even am I? That is a very good question! My name is Beth, and I am a student from the US. Given my age (21), I advise that minors tread carefully around my content. Though I tend to stay around the 13+ range of maturity with my writing, I will state which posts are strictly NSFW (or otherwise claimed to be "minors DNI"). Purposeful avoidance of this rule will result in a ban from my blog. Otherwise, please feel free to reach out on any platform — I love to talk to everyone!

Who do I write for? I mainly write for Wanda Maximoff, but I also write for Natasha Romanoff and other Elizabeth Olsen characters. Some other characters in non-MCU fandoms I dabble with include Beca and Chloe (Pitch Perfect).

Can I request a fic? Of course! As long as my requests are open, you can send a request a fic with the aforementioned characters through this link, or down below.

REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY: OPEN

MARVEL (MCU)

Wanda Maximoff

[click here for my wanda maximoff masterlist.]

Natasha Romanoff

Nothing to see here yet!

Elizabeth Olsen

high in your arms (*coming soon*)

lonely enough to let you treat me like this (*coming soon*)

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

One-shots

Series

"angels like you" masterlist → hurt/comfort & fluff

Summary: Looking forward to this moment for years, Wanda Maximoff had many feelings and anticipations regarding her transition to university: nervous, yet excited. Despite spending half of her adolescence dreaming about her time at university, she truly had no idea how it would go; however, never in her many dreams would she encounter somebody like Natasha Romanoff, her roommate, for the next year. [college roommate!au]

PITCH PERFECT

Beca Mitchell x Chloe Beale

Nothing to see here yet!

#elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #leigh shaw x reader #limarieb #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #scarlet witch #pitch perfect #bechloe #beca mitchell #beca mitchell x chloe beale #chloe beale