#wanda maximoff x monica rambeau

[togrowoldinv]

The Beach House

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader (and some Yelena Belova x Female Reader)

You spend your summers at a beach house with Natasha and Yelena. You’ve always had a crush on the oldest girl, but what happens this summer when Yelena starts crushing on you?

Note: This was fun to write! It’s partially based on the show The Summer I Turned Pretty, so if you’ve seen that you know things get messy and juicy 😂 It’s mostly Nat x reader, but Yelena can’t be ignored here. Enjoy it and let me know what you think!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

For as long as you can remember, you have spent every summer at the beach house with Yelena, Natasha, and their parents.

Your parents had been friends for a long time and growing up together you have always been close with Yelena and Natasha. Especially Yelena.

The blonde girl is close to your age, and you’ve clicked since day one. Running around the beach and baking cookies together before watching movies have been some of your favorite pastimes every summer.

Natasha used to join in, but last summer you noticed a change in her. She is older, and fresh out of college while you and Yelena are only in your second year. Natasha started acting like she was too old for your antics.

But you missed her. During those moments, you kept wishing she was there. And you had to admit to yourself that you liked her. There had been a summer a few years back when you realized that you were attracted to her, but the crush continued to blossom.

And now, this summer, it’s in full effect. You arrive at the beach house with your parents and hop out of the car to find Yelena waiting for you.

“Y/n! You’re here!” she shouts, pulling you into a hug.

“I missed you so much!” you tell her, burying your face in her neck.

Yelena pulls away from the hug and looks you over.

“Damn, you got hot,” she says. A heat rises up your neck. Nat may be the one you have a crush on, but Yelena is far from unattractive. “Alright come on in. My mama wants to see you.”

You follow the girl inside and Melina is waiting by the kitchen counter.

“Ah, dorogoy, come here!” Melina says, her accented voice sounds nostalgic. “My goodness, you grew up even more than last year!”

She pulls you into a hug and you greet her happily. She has always been like a second mother to you.

“It’s good to see you, Melina. Where’s Alexei?”

“Oh, he’s out with Natasha. They are fishing today,” she says.

“Sounds fun.”

“It’s not,” Yelena says. Her head is buried in her phone, and you make a mental note to ask her what that’s about.

After all the greetings, you go upstairs to put your luggage in your room. It’s the same one you’ve been using since you were a little kid, and it feels like coming home every time you step inside. The walls are lined with pictures from every summer before. And the dresser is littered with movie tickets, seashells, and a stuffed bear that Natasha won for you at the summer carnival.

You were only 10 at the time and wanted it more than anything. She spent over an hour playing a game to get enough tickets to cash them in for the bear. You miss that version of her.

“Y/n,” Yelena barges into your room and interrupts your thoughts. She plops onto your bed. “Let’s go to the beach.”

“I’m just settling in, Yel. Maybe another time,” you tell her.

“Come onnnnn,” she begs. “I haven’t been today, and I waited for my best friend to go with me. Please, please, please!”

“Fine,” you relent.

“Yes! Meet you downstairs in ten,” she says.

You grin at her antics and get changed into a swimsuit. Most summers you have been modest, but this year you decided to try out a new bikini. Your friend Jane had convinced you that it was about time. You slip on a Hawaiian button-up shirt and go downstairs.

As you open the front door, you are met with two people on the other side.

“Y/n!” Alexei yells. “I would hug you, but I smell like fish!”

“Nice to see you, Alexei,” you say.

He moves inside and reveals Natasha standing behind him. She doesn’t look like she’s been fishing all day. She looks perfect.

“Hey- hi Natasha,” you say.

Her eyes rake over your body and land back on yours.

“You grew up,” Natasha acknowledges.

“Yeah, I guess,” you reply, not really knowing what to say. “I’m going to swim with Yelena, so excuse me.”

“Have fun,” she says. You walk by her, and she watches you go. She kicks herself for not saying something better to you, but she didn’t know how to react. You were always beautiful to her, but something felt different when she saw you this time.

You spend the rest of the day with Yelena on the beach laughing and catching up with each other. She tells you about this new girl she’s talking to, Kate, and how she doesn’t know if the girl feels the same. Yelena explains that Kate is going to be at a party and practically begs you to say yes to going.

The first day ends like every day at the beach house does, watching the sunset with your friends and family.

The next morning, Natasha and Yelena are up early to go help Alexei at the docks. They tried to convince you to go with them, but you got out of it. One time of getting seasick years ago and they accept your excuse that it could happen again.

Instead, you go to town and buy drinks for the party tonight. At the store, you run into a beautiful girl.

“Are you new around here?” the girl asks.

“I’ve been coming here since I was a kid actually. But this,” you gesture to the drinks in front of you, “is new.”

The girl laughs gloriously and sticks her hand out for you to shake.

“I’m Wanda,” she says.

“Y/n,” you reply. “Are you going to the party tonight?”

“I was thinking about it,” Wanda answers. “If a pretty girl like you is going to be there, then I think I’ll make an appearance.”

“I’ll see you there then,” you say. You’re not sure where the sudden wave of confidence comes from, but you’re satisfied with yourself.

You bid Wanda a goodbye and drive back to the house. Later when Yelena and Nat return, they get dressed and you tell your parents you’re going out. They don’t love the idea, but Natasha promises to keep a watch on everyone.

Natasha drives to the other side of the beach and there’s already a good number of people at the party. A bonfire rests in the middle as everyone talks and music plays from the speakers.

“Don’t get into any trouble,” Nat says, taking her own bag of drinks and disappearing into the crowd. You try not to feel disappointed that she’s not going to hang out with you and Yelena.

“Oh, god, okay there she is,” Yelena says. She turns towards you to avoid staring directly at Kate.

“She’s cute,” you tease her. “Go talk to her.”

“No way,” Yelena says.

“Why? Don’t you text her like all the time?”

“Yes, but that’s different.”

“Fair enough,” you say.

Yelena takes a long sip of her drink, and you laugh. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the girl from the store today. Wanda.

“Oh shit, she actually came,” you mumble.

“Who?” Yelena asks.

“I forgot to tell you,” you begin. “I met a girl today at the store and kind of invited her.”

“Well, well, well. Y/n, the smooth talker,” Yelena teases. “Where is she?”

You point to the girl who’s standing by the bonfire and talking to a guy.

“Fuck,” Yelena mumbles.

“What?”

“That’s Wanda Maximoff,” Yelena says.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“She hooks up with like everyone, including Natasha.”

“Oh,” you say. The idea of someone else hooking up with Nat breaks your heart.

“Trust me, you don’t want to go down that path,” Yelena says. Her usual funny nature fades into a serious voice.

“I won’t,” you say. “Oh, look here comes Kate. You look great.”

The tall brunette approaches you and Yelena. She smiles at Yelena and the blonde’s legs threaten to give out.

“Hey I’m Kate, I don’t think we’ve met,” she speaks to you first.

“Y/n. It’s nice to meet you,” you tell her.

“Hey Yelena,” Kate says. Both girls blush.

“I’m going to grab another drink,” you excuse yourself.

Walking towards the drinks, you run into Wanda.

“There’s the prettiest girl here,” Wanda says. “I was looking for you.”

“Oh, hey yeah I was with some friends,” you say. You try not to sound too interested, but the woman is compelling.

You don’t notice Natasha’s eyes on you and Wanda.

“Nat? Are you even listening?” Maria asks the woman.

“Hm? Yeah, yes, I’m sorry,” Natasha says. She kisses the woman on the cheek quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

Natasha makes her way over to you and Wanda. Yelena notices and tries to interfere.

“Nat, I already told her to not get with her. She’s fine. They’re just talking,” Yelena says.

“I don’t fucking care. She needs to stay away from y/n,” Natasha says.

The redhead barges past Yelena. She places a hand on Wanda’s shoulder.

“Well hello Romanoff,” Wanda says with a grin.

“Don’t. Why are you talking to y/n? I thought I told you to stay away from these parties,” Natasha says.

“Natasha, hey it’s fine. I can handle myself. We were just talking,” you try to cut in.

“You heard the girl,” Wanda says.

“Leave her alone,” Natasha grits out. “Or I swear to god you will regret it.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Wanda asks, getting in the girl’s face.

“Alright, let’s just calm down here,” Yelena tries to diffuse the situation. “Why don’t you just leave Wanda?”

“I have a right to be here,” Wanda says.

The girl is taller than Natasha, but Nat doesn’t back down. Not even slightly.

They stare each other down for what feels like forever before Carol, whose party this is in the first place, comes over to the group of you.

“All of you have to go,” Carol says. “Come on, Natasha, I thought you were better than this.”

“Whatever,” Nat mumbles. You and Yelena follow her to the car. Yelena apologizes to Kate.

“Hey, you can’t just do that shit to me Nat! I was just talking to her!” You yell.

“Just get in the car,” Nat instructs.

“Get in, y/n,” Yelena says.

You relent and get into the car.

The next morning you see Natasha sitting on the balcony overlooking the beach. You take a deep breath and walk toward her.

“Hey Natasha,” you say. She lifts up her head from the book she’s reading. “Can we talk?”

She doesn’t reply but she pulls out the chair next to her and gestures to it.

“I don’t think it was cool that you interrupted me and Wanda last night,” you say. “Nothing was going to happen.”

Nat shakes her head. “You need to stay away from her.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I know. I know- it’s just that I have the urge to protect you,” Nat admits. “Maybe I did overreact though. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you say.

“So, are you going to the carnival tonight?” Nat asks. It’s the first effort she’s made at small talk all week.

“I think so, yeah. Yel wants to go,” you say. “What about you?”

“Maria wants to go, but I would rather just stay here and read,” Natasha says.

“Are you- um- dating Maria?”

Natasha seems to think about it for a moment. “No, but we’ve gone out a few times. She’s pretty and nice, but it’s nothing serious.”

“Right,” you say. You see Yelena come towards the balcony, so you excuse yourself. “I’ll see you later.”

Before Nat can reply, you’re out the door and Yelena fills the empty seat next to her. She sits in it sideways, and half of her legs end up in Natasha’s lap.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Natasha says.

“I know you are,” Yelena says. “But I do want to ask you why you got so defensive of y/n. We’re not little kids anymore, you know.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nat says. She looks out over the water and the morning sky.

“You do know.”

“I don’t.”

“Natasha,” Yelena says sternly.

“Yelena,” the redhead matches her tone. “Fine. I may possibly be somewhat into her.”

“I knew it!” Yelena says. “Ever since last summer you’ve been weird about her!”

“Shut up,” Natasha says. “It’s just a crush. It’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Yelena says. “She’s beautiful. I’ve even had my moments this summer where I think about her.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep,” Yelena says. “But liking your best friend is a shitty idea.”

“I don’t know about that,” Natasha says. “Odds are she doesn’t like either of us.”

“That’s probably true,” Yelena says.

The two sisters laugh and start talking about other stuff. You didn’t mean to overhear their conversation. And you definitely shouldn’t have stayed once they started talking about you, but you did, and you can’t believe both girls like you. You don’t even always like yourself.

For the rest of the day, you mostly avoid the girls. It wasn’t too hard since Melina and your mom asked you to go shopping with them. Melina always does too much and buys you more clothes than you could ever need. But it’s a fun day, nonetheless.

When you get back to the house, Yelena is waiting for you by the stairs. She is wearing a swimsuit and you can’t pretend not to notice. You never let yourself think of her like this, but God she is beautiful. She follows you up the stairs.

“Are you still down to go to the carnival tonight?” Yelena asks.

“Yeah. Who else is going?” You ask.

“I was thinking just us. Like old times,” Yelena responds. A cute smile is on her face.

“Sounds perfect. I’ll get changed.”

In your room, you wonder what you should wear. It’s just two old friends going to the carnival, you remind yourself. You slip on a dress and go to Yelena’s room.

You knock on the door frame. “You ready?”

“Yes,” she says, turning from her vanity. “You look good.”

“Thank you,” you reply a little shyly. “So do you.”

She’s wearing high-waisted blue jean shorts and a green crop top. Her eyes are perfectly accented by the color.

Yelena drives to the pier and you two enter the carnival. You play all of the usual games and eat way too much food. She asks you to go on the Ferris wheel with her.

“I’m scared of heights,” you remind her.

“It’ll be fun! I promise I’ll keep you safe! Please!” the girl begs.

“Alright, fine,” you relent.

You wait in line and sit in the seat together. It starts going up and you hold her hand.

“You’re good, detka. You’re good,” Yelena says.

“What does that mean?” You ask before you bury your face in her neck in fear.

She laughs and soon you come to a halt at the top.

“Y/n, look,” Yelena says. She uses her hand to pull your head from her and you peak out at the view. “Look how beautiful it is.”

“Oh, wow,” you say, looking at the way the moon falls over the ocean. You accidentally glance too far down and scare yourself again.

“Woah, hey you’re alright, malysh. Relax,” Yelena says. “Just look at me.”

And you do. You look at her eyes. And her perfect lips. Her hands on either side of your face brush softly against your skin.

“Yelena-”

You’re cut off by her lips on yours. They’re so soft and gentle. It doesn’t feel odd at all to kiss your best friend, but you’re not sure if sparks are flying either. The kiss breaks when the Ferris wheel starts moving again.

“That was-”

“Yeah,” you interrupt Yelena this time. “I didn’t know you- um- liked me like that.”

“I honestly didn’t realize it until this summer,” Yelena explains.

“Look Yelena, maybe we should just be friends?”

“Oh.”

“Not that that kiss wasn’t amazing or anything! But I just don’t want things to get fucked up, you know,” you explain.

“Right. No, you’re making sense,” Yelena says. She wonders if maybe Nat was right.

“You should text Kate,” you tell her. The ride is over, and you hop off. “I’m going to head out.”

“I’ll drive you,” Yelena says.

“That’s okay. Kate is here and you two should hang out.”

Yelena pulls you into a long hug. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Yelena,” you say.

You catch a ride with another friend of yours, Monica. She takes you to the beach house. You thank her and catch sight of Natasha in the pool.

“So, you didn’t make it to the carnival?” you ask her.

“Nah,” Nat says. “You did?”

“Yep,” you say.

You sit on the edge and put your feet in the pool. Nat swims over to you. Her red hair looks beautiful as it falls over her back.

“How was it?” Natasha asks.

“Eventful,” is all you supply. “How was your night?”

“TBD,” she says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Join me?” She asks.

“In the pool?”

“Where else?”

“I’m not in a swimsuit,” you say.

“So? Like old times, come on,” Natasha says. The alluring smile on her face doesn’t leave you room to argue.

You let her pull you into the pool. She holds you under the water like she did when you were kids.

“Hey!” you splash her with water when you come up to the surface. “Meanie!”

“Meanie? What are you seven?”

“Shut up,” you say.

Natasha tries to grab you to pull you under again, but you escape her grasp. She pushes you against the wall and you’re pinned by her. Her legs intertwine with yours. Natasha’s lips hover just inches from yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” Nat says. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart is screaming yes, but your mind is in dilemma.

“Y/n?” Nat tries.

“Yeah- yes please,” you say. Fuck it.

Natasha smiles and pulls you by the neck into a kiss. It’s rougher than the one with Yelena. It’s hungrier and more handsy. Nat’s hand slips under the neckline of your dress.

“Wait,” you say into the kiss.

Natasha pulls away and looks at you. “What’s wrong? I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I just- I can’t do this right now,” you say.

You get out of the pool quickly and leave Natasha there confused. And Yelena was watching the whole thing from the driveway.

God, what kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #kate bishop #carol danvers #monica rambeau

[acriminalmind]

The Housewife Killer

GN Serial Killer Reader x Housewife Wanda Maximoff

Summary: They call you the housewife killer as all of your victims are housewives, but your own sweet housewife has absolutely nothing to worry about...

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Dark themed fic, murder, blood, slight torture (with a knife), death list, manipulation, fluff, soft (not very detailed) smut.

Let me know what you think.

Enjoy!

AN: Should I post a sneak peek of Songs From the Wood?

Tears stream down her face as you drag the knife over her collarbone. Blood trickles down her body. Her breaths are shallow as she experiences gruesome pain. The white sleeping gown she had worn earlier that night had been torn off of her body and was, covered with various blood stains on it, thrown onto the concrete floor. The ropes around her wrists and ankles that kept her on the uncomfortable chair cut into her skin. Her voice had become raspy from all the screaming and begging she had done. Barely any sound came from it at this point, except from soft whimpering. She hadn't seen any danger when she had let you, her 'friendly' neighbor, inside.

One moment she walked to her kitchen to brew you some fresh coffee and the other moments you had her in a chokehold until she fell unconscious in your arms. You had dragged her to her basement where you took place on the washing machine, waiting for her to wake up so you could start your 'fun' time together. Another almost unhearable plea left her dry mouth. "Pleading won't make me stop, Honey. It will only make it more fun for me," You say as you cut into her arm. You made sure she wouldn't bleed out before you were done with her. She would die when you allowed her to. You circled around her like a predator would with a wounded prey, taking in your newest masterpiece. You twirled the blood-covered knife in your gloved hand before taking your stand behind her. She tensed as she felt your hand on her shoulder. The knife was pressed against her neck and as it slowly was pushed into her skin she cried with the last energy left in her weak body, "Y-you don't h-have to do this…" For a second you stopped your ministrations. You pulled the knife away from her neck and made your way around her. Kneeling down in front of her you grabbed her chin so she would look you in the eye when you talked to her. "That's where you are wrong, Geraldine. I do have to do this. She said your name." It was silent for a moment. The last sentence spins through her head. It was hard for her to think clearly, her eyes soon widened at the realization of who you were talking about. Who had said her name. "

Earlier that evening...

"Give me a name…" you whisper in her ear while you slowly thrust into her. With her arms and legs draped around you, Wanda holds your sweaty body tight against her own, not wanting to have any space between the two of you. She wants to feel your soft skin against her own while you make sweet love to her. Her head is thrown back into her pillow, with her eyes closed and mouth wide open while letting out the most beautiful noises. You kiss her neck, leaving multiple hickeys while patiently waiting for her answer. Different names go through Wanda's head. From Agatha who had 'accidentally' cut off her precious rosebushes, to Dottie who always gives her the worst book club tasks to take care of. Wanda felt herself getting closer as you move your hand in between your bodies to rub small circles on her clit. Her moans get louder with each second while your thrusts stay firm and steady. She knows you won't let her drop over the edge until she spills out a name. As she can feel her orgasm reach it hits her. Her eyes shoot open. Her green orbs stare at the ceiling while clawing your back as she says, "Geraldine". She can feel you smile against her neck before you say, "Good girl." You give her a few hard and coordinated thrusts until Wanda screams beneath you in euphoria. You help her ride out her orgasm before pulling out. Wanda lets out a soft whine at the loss of contact, but she knows that you'll be back in her arms soon, even if it's just for a short time before you take care of her 'problems'. You clean her up before taking your place beside her on the comfortable bed, pulling Wanda closer until she lays half on top of you. She can hear your rapid heartbeat as she plays with the wedding band on your left hand. "I love you," Wanda says half out of breath. You look down at her while playing with her red, curly hair. "I love you too, my love." Wanda wants to stay awake, she wants you to spend the night safe and sound in your shared bed. The moment she falls asleep she knows you'll leave. She knows she has nothing to worry about because you're always two steps ahead of the police and you always make sure to leave no trace behind that would lead them to you, but still. Before she can worry more sleep overtakes her and sends her on her way to dreamland. An hour later you silently leave the warm bed to get yourself ready to kill your next victim. Geraldine.

But not before you place a kiss on Wanda's lips with the silent promise that she has nothing to worry about.

"Wanda… It's all about Wanda…" A creepy grin overtakes your features as you watch her process the revelation. "She deserves a peaceful and happy life after everything she's been through. You don't bring peace or happiness so you need to go." Letting go of her face you get on your feet and walk back to stand behind her, placing the knife on her throat, "Bye-bye, Geraldine…". With one swift motion, you cut through her artery. Blood spurts out of her neck, decorating her wall. You make sure not to get any stray drops on you. After cleaning every piece of evidence that could lead the cops to you up, you look back at the pale body that stared back at you with dead eyes one more time before leaving the crime scene to go back home where your own little housewife was still peacefully asleep.

-

The next morning Wanda wakes up and smiles as she feels your muscular arms around her waist. She looks at the time and sees she has an hour left before book club starts. She rolls her eyes at the thought of Dottie complaining to her about how she could have done a better job at doing her tasks. Thankfully, soon that will be over... The corners of her mouth go up, forming a sinister smile as she thinks about the horrendous fate you will give Dottie. She carefully turns around so she faces your sleeping form. As she strokes your hair, red strings of magic leave her fingers to go into your mind.

-

Onto the Next!

-

Masterlist

#fanfic #marvel #wanda maximoff #dark fic #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff smut #scarlet witch x reader #monica rambeau #wandavision #dark reader #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda maximoff x reader

[wmarximoff]

Reader being Pietro’s bestfriend and Wanda having a crush on them but is too shy to say anything because she is popular and reader is apart of the unpopular dirtbags kind of group. The n reader confronts Wanda and it leads to Wanda’s first time. Pretty please with a cherry on top🥺🥺

freaks | w. maximoff

summary: high school isn't easy at all, especially for a kid as misfit as you. but just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, a bomb is dropped in your lap; because Wanda Maximoff, the popular, perfect girl with the kindest heart of all, actually has a crush on you. and she just happens to be your best friend's twin sister.

warnings (18+): underage characters, smoking, secondary characters using illicit drugs (weed), cursing, first time, smut, oral sex (Wanda receiving), penetration (Wanda receiving).

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

word count: 12k

A/N: sorry for the delay anon but i'm lazy as heck kjsfkjfs

anyway, this was fun to write (and actually pretty cute too). it's practically a romcom, really. hope you enjoy it!

|masterlist|

༺ᱬ༻

The cushions of the narrow couch you were sitting on felt cozy and comfortable under your thighs clad inside the material of a beat-up denim. But perhaps it wasn't for the furniture itself, which, although distinctly well maintained by a taste of carefully carved work, in no way appeared to be an expensive or even onerous piece in its cheap springs and foam.

It turns out that ever since your presence became something made frequent inside the Maximoff residence, you had found between those walls an air of coziness and reception that, like a warm maternal hug, dissipated the tense weight that was usual to fall on the muscles of your shoulders and your back.

The house of the family of four (just a mother and her three children, two teenagers and a child) was situated in one of the areas inhabited by the low-income citizens of the small town of Westview, beyond the gas station and the railroad tracks, a few blocks up from that trailer park that everyone knows from bad legends, but it's not like you need more than that to snuggle into the blandishments of that dark brown fabric sofa.

After all, it was enough to be accompanied by the presence of Pietro Maximoff, the eldest son (for twelve minutes, his sister occasionally reminded him of the fact in front of you), for you to know that the upheavals of the world would disappear inside your chest and, immersed in a bubble of comfort being with your best friend for about nine or ten months, there would be nothing that could hold you back for so long.

Pietro just had that effect on people; he was a good guy, a receptive young man of your age who used to be an esteemed figure by those who came in contact with the recurring good humor that guided him – but, like a typical misfit high school kid, there was nothing about him that pleased everyone at all. Not like his sister did so masterfully, at least.

The boy, dressed in khaki shorts and a long blue blouse as thin as a sapphire stone that showed off his similarly colored irises, was thus sitting half sprawled with his legs spread as if he had fallen there and not gotten up for a long time, parallel to you, in a small dark armchair that was only distanced from the sofa by a scrawny coffee table set there, of cheap pale wood that he used to prop his heels put into a pair of worn out running shoes.

To your right and to his left, perched in a chair pulled out from under the dining table, Darcy Lewis was the girl with long brown hair who had her upper back leaning against the back of her chair. Her clear, intent eyes so solemnly bound to the phone screen she kept blinking close to the tip of her nose, behind the thin glass lenses of a pair of dark plastic-framed prescription glasses.

Pietro and Darcy, then friends almost out of convenience because no one else was close to them (she being a weird amalgamation of a know-it-all geek and a half-inconvenient sarcastic little shit, he just an immigrant kid with a weird accent who slipped up at times and a sense of humor doubtful), they took you in because the others didn't seem all that interested in keeping you close – not when you were the only new kid around with a tattoo hidden somewhere on your body and a few more pairs of piercings than was acceptable for your neighbors dangling stylishly from your ears.

The boy dressed in the blue shirt, then seated opposite you, was expertly rolling a thin weed cigarette with his fingertips curled towards his athletic pecs in an intent gaze at the action exerted on his digits.

He then stuck his tongue out, sliding it down through the crack in his parted lips, using his saliva to glue the loose end of the rolling paper against the skinny little body of the cigarette which, when it was finally ready to be smoked, he tried to tuck it into the corner where his lips ended as if he wanted to perform a mobster from the height of the twentieth century.

But he was only sixteen-almost-seventeen, as young as he could be, and that was why Pietro only appeared to be what he was at that moment; a disheveled kid with poorly homemade bleached hair done with the help of his grumpy sister (the brown roots were showing in the crook of his head, giving him an air of sloppiness) with a long joint lying in the corner of his mouth.

He then leaned with his spine forward so his right hand went for the small pale blue plastic lighter set on the coffee table, before pouring his thumb across the stone so that the spark ignited the flame that lighted the end of the weed cigarette, from which he drew a long, lingering drag to spread the thick smoke through his nostrils in a state of mind imbued with a zealous tranquility, leaning his back against the armchair.

Behind your own red-filtered cigarette dangling between your lips, you raised an amused brow at your friend's slouched figure.

“Fucking stoner, man,” you mussed, albeit in airs of morose jocularity that inferred a little chuckle on Darcy's part, “That shit gonna fry all your brain cells someday, you know that? Make you dumber than you already are.”

He took another swig of the joint before fixing you with a pair of droopy blue eyes, since this was the second or third of the day he'd smoked – around his firm chin, the tiniest fuzz of an occasional dark beard was already threatening to arise with the emergence of age, each day closer to adulthood. One day, he would be a handsome man, because for now he was just a boy who promised to be a good-looking adult.

“And that shit gonna kill you someday,” with a little finger movement, waving his limp left hand, he pointed to the nicotine cigarette that was blistered between the index and middle fingers of yours, raised right at your face.

You smiled and so did he, half on his side, still lying on the armchair cushions like a misplaced decoration.

“At least I won't die stupid like you.”

“Just kiss him already man, for Christ's sake,” Darcy grumbled in a tone of shared humor, before reaching for the joint from Pietro's hand and bringing the small cylindrical body to her to draw a swig of weed for herself.

“Nah,” you expressed a small smile flanked by smoke, “As much as I know Piet wants it so much, he's not really my type, sorry.”

“What do you mean he's not your type, huh?” Darcy gave you a funny look from behind the glasses placed in front of her sharp blue eyes, as if she wanted to poke a small lump hidden inside you.

“I thought his last name was Maximoff. That sure is your type, sister.”

There was a second puff of smoke until the boy, then already in a somewhat lethargic action when clouded by the cognitive effect of the cannabis he was smoking, lifted the back of his head from the backrest and lowered his chin, squeezing with his eyelids that wandered from Darcy's smile to your brow furrowed in a bewildered slant, only to redo the act once again a little more confused, cinching a flash of fur from his forehead with the thick, dark-haired brows above the blue eyes sort of gleaming with a curious blaze.

“Y/n, what’s she talking about…?”

“Your mom, duh,” was your immediate response, a mock-masked deliverance dripping from your throat, a smirk taut in the unnaturally twitching muscles on your face, “Ms. Maximoff's got it going on, right? I mean, gosh, she really looks hot in her waitress uniform.”

“Dude, I always knew MILFs were your type, you totally look like you would do a MILF.”

Darcy looked back at you with an air of laughter as her chin tipped in your direction, the lack of sobriety evident in her airy actions, which in no way complied with the implications of the first comment bestowed on you.

“Well, and who doesn’t like MILFs?” you smiled burlesquely, to which Darcy readily acquiesced with a sharp nod.

“But yeah Pietro, your mom is like, hot. The hottest MILF among all MILFs. So hot.”

“So hot,” you repeated in a profuse drag of a cigarette, pointing to the girl sitting next to your right knee that showed a beam of skin through a long slit in the fabric of your pants.

“Very, very hot.”

“Like, super hot.”

The platinum-haired boy, meanwhile, only let out a loathsome grunt as his drunken face contorted in repulsive distaste for the idea you and Darcy offered him about his own mother, shaking his head firmly as if he wanted to shake off these thoughts as if they were really mosquitoes pestering him to sleep at night—something that brought on you, of a good-natured nature, and on Darcy, just too stoned for her own good, a long round of loud, juicy laughter that caused the muscles in you abdomen to ache in hot cramping.

“Dude, gross! That's disgusting, she's my mom! What the fuck!"

Though a little unsteadily, his left fingers hooked against the fabric of a red pillow that was brought up and then hurled toward him with just a flick of the tendons of the young man's strong shoulder, which depended on minor physical labor to add a little more on the household income.

It was a quick if somewhat lingering half second, when your gaze only caught a glittering blur pouring air to shatter against your face.

The fluffy object then collided with a soft thud against the top of your left cheekbone, pushing the muscle of your neck back against the back of the sofa, as your senseless fingers detached from the still-lit half-smoked cigarette, whose butt fell against the pillow that soon had its fabric sprinkled in a small hole with burnt and blackened edges.

“Shit, Pietro–!”

Darcy, with cheeks as rosy as a pair of ripe tomatoes against her usually pale, lifeless alabaster countenance, seemed a second away from writhing into a convulsive laugh that would soon take the form of a fit of choking vomit, and you soon treated catching the remains of the cigarette between your right index finger and thumb, before pressing the tip against the pale porcelain pot that was the makeshift ashtray to then stand on your knees, scrutinizing the damage done to the mobile.

“Shit,” you repeated, albeit in a slightly lowered tone, the palms of your hands resting on your bent and exposed knees, “Shit, see what you did, dickhead? You ripped a goddamn hole in the pillow, you jerk!”

“What–?!” the boy then scrambled to his feet in exasperation, suddenly slipping into a layer of momentary sobriety, rounding the coffee table to walk over to your side in rather worried steps, “What the– oh my God, oh my God, my mom’s going to kill me—”

The sound of the front door being opened so close and then being closed as it was before, was what spread throughout the house of close rooms, succinct and with a small and short square footage composition.

The walls of your stomach collapsed in on you as Pietro shot you an alarmed look that flickered a troubled blue, turning pale as if the blood was suddenly draining from his cheeks. For a second he looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car on the road.

“We're fucked.”

“I know.”

But desperation didn't rage among the three of you for as long as it would have; like a bucket of water dispersed in a still-igniting spark, putting out a coming fire, who came into the living room was not the figure of Ms. Maximoff dressed in her signature red and white ketchup-stained waitress uniform, but only a young Wanda Maximoff, Pietro's younger twin sister, who had a pair of headphones screwed into both her ears, under the profuse bundles of her dark-brown hair.

“Pietro…?” the low voice came from far away, as footsteps approached the room with heavy combat boots high-laced on her ankles, “What are you…?”

Wanda's irises wandered from Pietro to then you and Darcy, as her index and middle fingers, with extensions adorned in a series of silver rings, hooked onto the long wires of her headphones to pull them down from inside her ears.

“Wanda!” you muttered under your breath, because your unconscious was taken over by the image of her standing there, and there was nothing else to say but call her to you, “Wanda. H-hey, Wanda. Hi.”

“…Hi, Y/n.”

You gasped for a bit as you opened and closed with your lips, saliva hardening in the back of your throat at the pretty figure of the girl dressed in dark clothes and chains dangling from the belt that threaded around the waistband of her black skirt and around her milk-white neck, with pointy pendants that alluded to the mysticism she held dear.

And she just brought out something inside you. After all, Wanda Maximoff was affable, soft, beautiful and gentle as a bouquet of red roses, the prettiest of them all.

At Westview High, everyone knew who she was when she walked through the halls, the only girl who could walk shoulder to shoulder with the cool kids clique even if she hadn't gotten out of her Evanescence listening phase – even if her wealth was not as capital as theirs. Everyone wanted a little bit of her, from the kind, generous, gorgeous girl, essential member of the academic decathlon team and debate group.

A keen library goer, consumer of thick, hard-to-read books, who kept high grades as well as the good will of the people like it was second nature to her. A school prodigy. A popular necessity.

And Wanda went out of her way to be extremely considerate of her requirements. It just so happens that she was never quite able to share that said kindheartedness with you, something that has always given you doses of discontent inside your chest – after all, even after almost a whole year of seasons all past since your permanent installation in the small-town blandices, Wanda never bothered to look you straight in the eye for more than three or so seconds.

“This–this isn’t what it looks like, Wanda,” cried Pietro, who raised a hand to his sister across the room.

“We’re just,” you tried, “Well, we were—”

“Of course we sure as hell weren't smoking pot in your living room,” Darcy muttered to the ceiling, still sitting in her chair, “I mean minus Y/n, because she's such a boring bitch,” there was a snort on the part of the bespectacled girl.

“Darcy, shut up!”

“C’mon, what a fucking surprise Piet, everybody knows you smoke pot!”

And then when Wanda's gaze woven in a curious green latched onto yours, an air-tied knot whose ends met between you and her, you pressed your lips together in a single line, because a thin layer of blush turned pink on her high cheeks, which flushed like a little porcelain doll.

You straightened your posture, but the girl with the long, silky dark hair only looked away, aiming for the dirty porcelain bowl set on the cheap wooden table.

“I,” she whispered, like a shy little mouse with rosy cheeks, “I won't… I won’t say anything to mom, don't worry about it. Just… just clean this mess up before she gets home.”

There was a flash of green gaze that flashed into your eyes like a beacon on the horizon, but then it faded in less than a second because Wanda seemed to relinquish eye contact with you, again lowering her gaze away from your face, hiding her pretty pale eyes behind a thick curtain of dark hair.

She suppressed her lips in a thin, rosy line, seeming to shrink into her blackish-brown, long-sleeved blouse. Wanda opened her mouth as if to say something, but then clasped her lips together again in a sign of resignation.

“I–I'm going to my room.”

And the girl barely waited for an answer from any of the three parties before she left for the house, leaving like a deserting spirit. You blinked once, and then turned your nose towards Darcy.

“Dude, did I do something wrong…?”

“She’s probably just scared of you,” teased the girl with the glasses, “You know, she dresses all edgy and stuff but she's just so sweet and kind like this little black bunny and you... well, man, you spilled cigarette ash all over her mother's couch, what the heck.”

When she laughed at her own joke, something in you faltered for half a second.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” you mussed awkwardly, screwing the palm of your right hand against the skin of the back of your neck, “I… I guess.”

“Whatever, Wanda’s a weirdo,” Pietro's voice came from your side, even if half muttering to himself, “Just–just please help me clean this up, dammit. My mom’s going to kill me, I swear...”

ᗢ

A gust of annoyed air had left the gap between your lips open for what was perhaps the tenth time in a row allotted to that meager period of time that spanned a lengthy fifteen minutes of a rather dull morning – at least that's what you was, when your weary gaze sagged across the raised square screen of your phone, towards the upper right corner, and there you were faced with the digital clock marking the scorching hour of nine thirty-seven on a hot morning in Wednesday.

You sighed slowly, warm air draining from your lungs and your chest deflating into your unbuttoned flannel shirt, through the straps of your thin tank top, because there was nothing to do other than that.

You might as well proclaim your notes in your notebook as Miss Harkness, who was standing right in front of long rows of other bustling teenagers who, like you, huffed bored air out of their mouths into their faces, dictated to her history class to all the school kids in their seats.

However, as much as you were interested in the class (as, in fact, you were), it turns out that Miss Harkness just had a habit of getting quite carried away in her classical prose, and even though the middle-aged woman in the lilac waistcoat was one of your favorite teachers, nothing there was enough to capture your diverted attention.

Because you, moreover, barely had any thoughts floating around in your head that weren't entirely focused on Wanda Maximoff and the esoteric wonder that came along with her, as if it were her own shadow.

And, given the situation similar to yours in which Wanda found herself in that same class, it was she who was sitting there next to you, taking note of everything the teacher said about that historical event that honed the details of the modern country founding; Wanda was just a pretty smart type of student, it's true. The girl urged you on in a superhuman way.

Yet, at that morning and like every other morning before, the two of you hadn't even exchanged enough sentences for you to actually engage in a conversation with the other girl. In fact, you hadn't even spoken to her at all.

You knew she was deep enough in her notes to having someone to piss her off. With the chin supported by the hand supplanted by the left elbow raised to the face of your table, your gaze headed towards Wanda, who was seated to your right and attracted you like a damn lodestone, in an inevitable magnetic dazzle; in the same room in the company of several people, Wanda was always the one who caught your attention under her fingertips to keep.

Just the appeal, the idea, the unknown, they were enough to find you rambling about your classmate – Wanda interspersing her diligent attention between Agatha and her own dark-covered notebook where the digits of her fingers, lined with rings, wrote so cunningly in a black ink pen, one opalescent knee crossed by the other under the table, the miniskirt exposing her pale, firm thighs that were suddenly engulfed by high dark stockings that rose above the confines of her knees.

And it admired you, how her brown hair seemed to modulate accentuated shades of honey color when laid out by the rays of sunlight that entered the room through the thick glass windows that adorned the walls adjacent to the tables you occupied respectively. How her irises looked like two sparkling emerald stones when highlighted by a profuse smoky dark eyeliner liner around her waterline – her naturally thick, long lashes adorning her stylish, heavy makeup.

There was the leaf-shaped pendant in dark silver dangling from a thin chain that flowed across her attractive bosom, between the sharp collarbones that poked out of her thin black blouse, adorned with strands of long, silky light brown hair; the necklace between her breasts, the exposed skin there looking so soft, a tiny mole situated high on her right breast that you just wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss and feel through your tongue.

“Miss Y/l/n.”

The teacher's voice called out of your thoughts between the heads of young people, which caused a sea of eyes to all turn to you, like creatures from another world, a pack of animals in the forest looking to a flashlight.

Even Wanda's gaze got caught, which for half a broken second turned to you only for when, upon catching your face already turned towards her, she only turned to the filled pages of the notebook placed between her forearms, like if you really were just an eminent pest. She doesn't know who I am and yet she doesn't give a damn about me, huh.

“Can you answer the question, Miss Y/l/n?”

Miss Harkness's tight, dark curls swayed in your direction when you look at her, standing there on the other side of the classroom and in front of the blackboard cluttered with notes made all in powdered white chalk.

“Eh,” you mussed, somewhat unimpressed by the teasing smirks that were beginning to form on unfriendly faces, containing in your grunt a sudden roll of disinterested eyes.

“What's the question again, please?”

“Pff, sucker.”

A voice pierced the veil of silence that had fallen over the other youngsters, the voice of that smug boy Tony Stark, which soon erupted into group giggles that spilled back and forth into the classroom like a flock of flustered parrots.

“Alright, alright, cut it off for Christ's sake!” Miss Agatha Harkness cried out somewhat aggravated, waving both her hands in front of her body in a rather weary way.

“None of you here is in position to laugh and you all know it very well! Would any of you like to answer the question for Miss Y/l/n instead, huh? Somebody? Nobody? Well, that’s what I thought.”

The teacher's simple, elaborate tone sounded an octave higher than usual, drawing your attention towards the woman in question. You looked at her, but Wanda's gaze burned to the flesh of your right cheek, before glancing at Miss Harkness another time.

And then, a hand with nails tinted in dark polish rose above the others' heads, not at all hesitant in her actions as she did so. Wanda, of course, was willing to speak up when no one else did. You looked at her with an air of interest, straightening your posture against your hard, clear plastic chair.

“Yes, Miss Maximoff?” Agatha nodded, to which the young girl immediately lowered her right arm.

“The Church created the Court of the Holy Office in the thirteenth century, and it was supposed to prevent people who had deviated from Christianity from leaving. They used various mechanisms of persecution and punishment for that,” narrated Wanda with exquisite mastery.

“That's what led to the Inquisition and, after some time, the Salem witch hunt, which actually started in France in the fifteenth century.”

You focused your eyes on her for a couple of seconds longer than what would be considered healthy for the habit to do. It was because of looking at her so intently, however, that you found the other girl giving you a single, chaste glance out of the corner of her eye, which then retreated away, as if in an internal game with both parts of her brain; one wanted to look at you, and the other didn't.

“Finally, great,” Agatha brandished.

“At least someone here is paying attention in class. You are correct indeed, Miss Maximoff. See, Miss Y/l/n, this is what happens when you actually listen to your teacher and not just daydream looking at your classmates all morning.”

"I– what?! I didn't—!” A heat spread from the tips of your ears, all the way down to your cheekbones, your neck, and your shoulders inside your unbuttoned shirt.

Someone stifled a laugh on a cough from behind your seat. Fuck.

Wanda remained silent, and you wouldn't even dare look to the side, at her, who so relentlessly strayed her curious gaze in your direction, her chin slightly tilted at a broken angle to the side of her left shoulder. Mortification in bright crimson still burned the flushed skin of your cheeks at the pretty girl's gaze.

“That's what you heard, heartbreaker,” the teacher waved her witch-like hand, “Now, please, everyone pay attention here for another fifteen minutes until class is over, will you? I swear I want to be here as much as you kids do.”

And then there was another bout of chatter from Miss Harkness in a waistcoat buttoned over a white shirt printed with corny light blue flowers. Perhaps, if you hadn't covered your eyes with the open palms of both your hands, you would have caught the tiny fond smile that tugged at the corner of Wanda's peachy lips.

ᗢ

It didn't take long, with some minutes passed right after lunch time, for you to sneak into the four closed walls of a second-floor women's bathroom stall so that, in such a way, you could give yourself the courtesy of blowing smoke from your cigarette, scorching in peace. With your back resting peacefully against the laminated plastic of the scrawny cabin wall, you leaned your back, staring sluggishly at the pale plaster ceiling. It’s not like the time and space around your miserable existence matters all that much.

The cigarette that appeared between your parted lips had a flickering tip like a firefly in the night flickering in the dark night, and the smoke that just sailed up to the ceiling was thin and wavering, fading from reality like a utopian idea.

Near the flush valve, painted onto the white tile, an elaborate graffiti in black marker pen penned two names joined by a mathematical plus sign – something like “KATE + YELENA” etched near your right elbow, a promise perpetuated in the inerasable act of a young heart lacerated by a still budding idea of what warm love would be pulsing inside someone’s chest.

Behind an opaque veil of cigarette smoke, you considered doing the same with your own name and Wanda Maximoff's, until you suddenly gave up on the idea as it was supposed to be an impulsive lapse in need.

So you just sighed, shaking your head from side to side, getting rid of those silly thoughts as if you had quaked them out of your brain. The only sound that erupted through the silence encrusted in the cabins was that of the avid drip of a poorly closed sink. Dripping. And dripping. And stopping. Until a trio of female voices burst through the front door.

“Shit–!”

In an act of open desperation, you just dropped your still lit, half-smoked cigarette down into the open toilet, into the still water.

“I swear, that's what she said,” the evident tone of voice that reached your ear was distinctly that of Pepper Potts, the girl a year older than you who was the head of the cheerleading squad.

“Rogers dumped her because he's dating Barnes!”

“That's weird, I thought it was Wilson this time.”

Just behind her, the second voice couldn't be anyone other than Monica, the only child of principal Rambeau and that, like her friend, everyone knew who she was; a genuinely nice girl from the lacrosse team who turned out to be Pietro's crush for as long as you knew him.

“No, Wilson used to date Barnes who now dates Rogers. It’s hard to keep up, I know.”

Pepper clarified it to her friend, and for a second it sounded like she was planning to start a new sentence about the ups and downs of her peers' social-love life when, after a broken half lapse of silence within those with walls, the strawberry-blonde girl’s voice was then charged with a queasy tone, which indicated a nose twisted in repugnance that you couldn’t see behind the cabin’s closed red door.

“Ugh, what is that smell…?”

“Cigarette smoke, I guess.”

Your heart slammed and disarmed inside the middle of your chest, because the answer was based on Wanda Maximoff's delightfully low voice. She was there, in the company of her friends who reapplied makeup to their faces. Well, fuck. You gulped like a criminal in trial.

You scarcely dared to breathe accurately between your nostrils, but it's not like your lungs, at the sound of her melodic voice, know how to do anything but just inflate and deflate sparingly like a pair of flat tires.

“That’s disgusting,” Pepper clicked with her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

“It must have been Y/l/n, everyone knows she comes here to smoke after lunch,” said Monica, who seemed to have a crooked joyful smile in her voice.

“I swear, Wanda, she was practically drooling on you earlier today. Heart eyes and all, totally head over heels. It was actually kinda cute to watch.”

“She… she was?” it was small, almost inaudible from your listening hiding position, away from the eyes of those who spoke.

There was something shy that could be pointed out in Wanda's voice, but there was something also glistening with the tiniest glimmer of hope that you couldn't help but notice. Something that lulled your senses and made you ponder about the direction of this conversation so intimate that, for a second, you felt like you were crossing an invisible line of common sense. Maybe it was wrong. A mistake. Or perhaps it was just a weird type of unconventional luck, even.

It was like you couldn’t be there at all. Because you, in the wrong place at the wrong time, were just invading Wanda’s privacy; that’s how it felt, at least. It was as if the walls of the cabin were going to swallow you and squash you to death like the stomach of a dark creature.

“I really don't understand what you see in that girl, Wands,” it's Pepper's turn to say, “You should just give Jarvis a chance. He asked you out to eat Indian food, didn't he? You love Indian food.”

“I hate Indian food,” Wanda reiterated to the other girl, “And he doesn’t give a damn about me, anyways. He just likes hanging out with people who have high grades. And you just want me to date him because he's Tony's brother, and if I do date him you'll have someone to go on a stupid double date with.”

“It's not that, geez,” was the head cheerleader's reply, “It's just that he's on the decathlon team like you and he's graduating this year, so you can date a college boy in your senior year. Damn, I'd like to date a college boy my senior year."

“You're already in your senior year,” Monica reminds her, “And you’re dating Tony.”

“Yes, for that very reason.”

Something about that suggestion didn't appeal to your taste at all, still tucked inside the cabin as you were. Just the thought of Wanda dangling from Jarvis Stark's arm, a known prick among the students other than those who made up his intimate circle of handpicked relationships, was enough to ignite an acrimonious revulsion in you, which even seemed to want to devour your muscle cells from the inside out.

That bitter feeling running down the side of your tongue, pouring out between your teeth, was nothing to do with your half-smoked cigarette which then floated down the toilet like a sunken ship. And you just didn’t want to think so hard about why the slightest mention of the idea of Wanda dating Jarvis fueled such a revolting feeling within your ribcage.

“Besides,” the Potts girl continues her own line, oblivious to your deep displeasure.

“Unlike that Y/l/n girl, Jarvis has a guaranteed future in his father's company for when he finishes his graduation. And look, don't get me wrong, but that girl is either going to end up in jail or dead or both, and that's probably before she even turns thirty. Ugh, c’mon Wanda, she's just another freak. You can do way better than that. I mean, you even have a shot to be prom queen this year if you start dating Jarvis.”

“I don't wanna be prom queen, Pepper. Everyone already knows it's going to be you and Tony, anyways,” said Wanda, in a tone that emulated lapses of discomfort towards the other young woman, “And don't say that about Y/n, that's not true.”

And it surprised you, in fact, because you had never heard Wanda be so incisive with her words before. Or even someone using such a tone of voice when addressing Pepper Potts.

“She's not… a freak, she’s funny. And smart. And she’s actually pretty sweet when you really get to know her. I... I never talk to her much when she comes over to my house because she's always hanging with Pietro and Darcy, but... she just... she just seems nice to have around, you know? Something about her is… soft. She once made me laugh until juice almost came out of my nose.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your memory traveled back to that day, at a dinner night guided by the traditional house stroganoff, were Ms. Maximoff made sure that your presence was there, at the dinning table with her and her children. The tips of your ears and the skin of your shoulder burned to embers that carried the ashes of that night, but it was as if that heat itself soothed the anxious twinges in your bristling veins.

It was the first time your eyes were ever pleased to witness a sincere laugh burst from within Wanda’s lungs.

And no one had ever looked as stunning in front of you as she did back in that day so many weeks ago, with her head thrown back and her eyes squinted, cheeks flushed in such a lovely rosy layer of flesh, shoulders swaying inside an ancient rock band shirt, peach mouth open only to reveal the two front teeth partially larger than the rest, like a scrunched nose bunny.

So genuine and so pure that your heart turned on itself – and if you dared to do so, you would say it was that day she usurped the rights of your feelings.

“And, uh...” Wanda's voice was small this time, in a timid, measured edge, “She's... she... she's pretty. Like, really… really pretty.”

It was like an electric current that ran from your ribs to the flesh of your cheek, heating the tops of your cheekbones. The saliva in your mouth, still vicious like a full-bodied drink, only evaporated and disappeared, making the wetness pooling in the palms of both of your sweaty hands even more evident. It was as if fireworks erupted in a hot red roar inside the walls of your stomach.

“She’s hot! I once heard that she had a hidden tattoo somewhere,” it was Monica's turn to cry out in an air of laughter.

“She’s a freak,” growled the Potts girl again, in an eye roll, “And you two are just too squeamish for your own good. She’s not the only person with earrings out there, Jesus.”

“Seriously, Pep, look at Wanda, her type is obviously not those preppy boys like that Stark douche. Girl, her type is delinquents. Bad girls. You know, just girls as a whole. Someone to listen to, I don’t know, Iron Maiden with her or whatever emo shit she listens to.”

“Yeah, got it, geez,” muttered the older girl in a bad way, “It's just what I think.”

“Well, you thought wrong then.”

“Really, Monica, just shut up–”

A few more frivolous conversations drifted over the trio of girls, who took off out of the bathroom minutes later, striding farther and farther away when the subject in question strayed into something that was of no interest to you at all. You blinked once, and then twice. It was like being at the bottom of the ocean and coming back to the surface abruptly.

You breathed. You just breathed. Soundlessly, your right hand slipped to the latch of the laminated plastic door, which opened out in a continuous squeak.

You gulped down the saliva sitting on the back of your tongue. Meeting your eyes in the quadrangular mirror placed in front of the cabin from which you exited, the air still reeking of the remnants of your cigarette mixed with Wanda's perfume, it did not surprise you at all that your cheeks reflected in the glass were like two reddish cherries burning over your boiling flesh.

“…Fuck.”

ᗢ

A few succinct days were passed one after another in front of your secret incident in the girl's bathroom stall (there was no more dignified labeling for such an occurrence than an incident as pleasant as it was also uncomfortable, it's true).

The entire seventy-two hours that followed were then grounded in several thoughtful cigarettes burning between your aching lips, the lighter's flame flickering in the ashes of broken reasonings, considerations and daydreams taking puffs of smoke, all which circled in your brain as if it were the moon that gravitates around the planet, as if space itself had usurped the oxygen from your bloodstream and changed it to Wanda’s name.

Wanda. Your cigarette smoke burned Wanda's name in your lungs. Your eyelids blinked Wanda's emerald gaze out of your sleepy eyes. Just Wanda. Only Wanda. Wanda Maximoff, red, green and black, a dream and a doom.

Your everyday contemplations then became the shelter of the other girl's tender jadish irises blooming in shades of a cordial green, like the green of spring pastures, and only the Maximoff girl could have been able to capture your attention even when you were within the walls of your own room, away from her piercing vision.

You couldn’t help but glance so assiduously at her when she was wearing nothing but partially buttoned black shirts on her chest and increasingly revealing miniskirts, whose fabric didn't even bother to cover the hollow of her soft, pale thighs worn down in tall, dark stockings.

Like a delightful reverie, she came in a spectral crimson form at night, only to disappear early in the morning sun. Four days were enough for you to bury your face in the middle of your pillow and let out a cavernous and frustrated yell vanish there, in vain trying to engage in a battle already lost since its beginnings against something that.

 Like the addictive nicotine contained in the extensions of your countless smoked cigarettes, every cell in your body clamored for more of her. It was as if your lips would bleed if you lacked the taste of her kiss for even one more day.

If Wanda were a witch endowed with mystical gifts, you would sure be bewitched by her addictive charms with an intangible scarlet grip around the outline of your neck – for the length of the halls between class periods, the cafeteria packed with students heads at lunchtime (campaigns for prom royalty were starting to brew little by little) or even on the bleachers smeared out of the faculty buildings by the warm sun, you searched with intent eyes for the slightest trace of her stunning presence, like a hungry dog hunting something down to satisfy its starvation.

And you could barely be sure in your own limping functions of what it was that led you there when it was that your feet, in untied shoes, marched under a stifling blanket of the scorching spring sun, even if the excuse paramount was that you just wanted her brother's company by your side to smoke a cigarette – even if Pietro wasn't into smoking conventional cigarettes at all, just like you also weren’t into smoking what he had to offer either.

 Stepping hard on the concrete of the sidewalk without a definite purpose at the heart of your rash actions, like a maze with only one exit, your feet instinctively led you up the two entry steps of the Maximoff residence – the newly painted one storey house that contained within its structures two bedrooms and only one bathroom.

That's where your right index finger, so accurate, searched for the bell to press with the tip of your digit and, after the miserable seconds that followed the act, who came to meet you was that same brunette girl who stole the gift of sleep during the nighttime.

Wanda looked a little different on that scorching Sunday afternoon of sunny skies and wispy clouds sprinkled around the cerulean sky dome, without any hint of dark makeup to adorn the moss-colored puddles that flanked her sharp pupils to be found in her natural beauty, albeit the long coffee-colored strands that were tucked behind the contours of her ears, in the usual casual way she liked to stylish them.

“Y/n?” it was a stunned tone at your offered smile as her chin tilted toward her left collarbone, one corner of a dark brow cocked in an expression nothing short of stupefied, her eyes enlarged in size.

“Hey, hi Wanda. How’re you doing?"

“I–I,” she huffed for a bit, “I'm fine... I'm fine, thank you. You?”

“Oh,” you smiled, “I’m great, thanks.”

Wanda's rosy mouth tightened into a line at your sight, and you couldn't help but notice the fact that the way she shifted her weight from one bare leg to the other beneath the dark material of her front-buttoned skirt, as if she wasn't quite sure what to do there at the door of her own home – surely you weren't a face she expected to find there.

Seconds passed in a slow swoop when a bird hummed in a nearby tree. Wanda just played fidget with the handfuls of rings that adorned the pale extensions of her right fingers, twisting, pulling and touching them with her left fingernails carpeted in dark nail polish chipped at the tips. There was a cigarette leaning behind your right ear.

“So,” you then began rather casually, and your voice drew her attention from her own clean shoes, as the other girl saw herself as being imbued with a somewhat restless silence, “Is Pietro at home? I sent him some texts, but he hasn't replied for a while.”

“No, he… he left a while ago,” she hissed a little too quickly, like a hamster's squeak, “He's grounded. You know, from burning a hole in the pillow that day.”

You cinched a flash of fur between your brows in a funny way, breaking a curious little smirk at the corner of your lips.

“He's grounded,” it was echoed slowly, as if to get your bearings, “But he left...?”

“Yeah,” Wanda shrugged into her plain blouse, “My mom took the afternoon shift at the diner and Lorna went out to play at her friend's house, and he's been bugging me for ages about setting up a date with Monica... and she agreed to go out with him today, so… he went out with her.”

“Huh,” you mumbled thoughtfully, “That's cool, I guess. I mean, he talks about her all the damn time… it’s kinda annoying actually. Even if it’s cute.”

“Yeah,” she half-chuckled, not moving her lips that much, “I know.”

There was a silence that bordered the two of you for a few more seconds as in an intangible fence made of mutual discomposure, a view a bit awkward to witness from afar, almost like a lighthearted conversation taken disinterestedly between two strangers inside a crowded bus or in a long bank line just to pass the time.

Wanda was still fidgeting with her own fingers, soundless in a dull quietness as if a lump stuck in her throat forbade her to speak words to you, and you just unpretentiously shoved the palms of both your hands into the back pockets of your baggy jeans, your side teeth nibbling the flesh on the inside of your cheeks as you did.

“I,” you muttered under your breath, nodding your head at an unasked question, filling the gap of silence between you and Wanda, “I think I'm gonna go home then—”

“You–you can wait for him here if you want!”

You blinked for a second, lifting your eyebrows to the middle of your forehead, almost touching your hairline. Wanda's pink lower lip was pressed between a wall of her upper teeth, and her cheeks flushed with a remarkable heat. Cute, you thought with yourself. So goddamn cute, oh my God... you wanted to hold her in your arms just to place a warm kiss in the middle of her forehead skin.

“Fine,” was a casual agreement, “I'd like to stay, then. If that doesn't bother you, of course.”

She then shrugged, “No, being alone at home is kinda boring sometimes. And, well,” her right fingertips swept behind her ear a strand of hair that had come loose from its previous spot there, “You… you're cool, Y/n.”

Your lips tightened when, even with her head aiming halfway down the floor, Wanda looked at you in a flash of moss green that flowered between her dark, thick, heavy doll-like lashes. Into the crop top you wore over your shoulders, your chest heaved and deflated severely against your ribs.

“Right. You're cool too, Wanda.”

She smiled in a singularly kind way because you did too, before closing the door behind you as you entered your newfound hostess's house together. As you passed close to her shoulder, there was the scent of strawberry shampoo and a cheap, lightly woody perfume like cinnamon that intoxicated your bloodstream as the scent wafted through your nostrils.

There was at you core the stimulating temptation of your perceptions to stick the tip of your nose through her long locks, only to further indulge your senses with her scent, but you held back your actions before skidding into a lapse of daring to definitely do it.

“You... You want something to eat?” Wanda spoke a little tenderly, half-cumbersomely even, not sneaking a glance at your face as you followed her into the walls of the small house, “I baked a cake.”

“Wait, wait, you cook?” you turned your gaze to the girl next to your left shoulder, who let a chaste smile crack between her lips.

“Well,” she muttered, “Sometimes, yeah. Not as often as I would like to, though. It's usually only when Lorna asks me to do it.”

“Cool,” you reciprocated her small grin, “I'd like a slice, if it's not too much trouble.”

When you went to sit on the springs of the dark sofa, out of the way of Wanda, who in turn headed for the nearby kitchen, your eyes proceeded to a small square television set in the corner of the room, above a somewhat rustic wooden furniture with silver handles, which on its monochromatic screen flashed a reprised episode of some old sitcom in shades of an artificially colored image like in one of those advertising flyers from sixty years ago.

Wanda came over to you a few minutes later all filled with a corny, fun-to-watch script between a blonde actress and a tall actor wearing a suit, in rather quick strides in her converse sneakers, carrying with her, in her right hand, a glass plate that contained a generous slice of white cake that looked like a feather-flavored pastry.

“Here,” she then handed you the utensil that was gladly accepted by your hands along with a grateful smile on your face, before sitting in the sofa to your right, with her bare knees joined together like a pair of magnets.

“Thanks, really. But hey, Bewitched, huh?” With a jerk of your chin, you pointed at the television in the corner of the room, under the open glass window that let aureate glimmers of a cozy sunlight take over the room.

Wanda acquiesced with a nod that shuddered her soft, dark locks, her lips twisted into a shy little smile. The rehearsed laughter of an unseen audience cluttered the four walls of the living room.

“Yeah, my mom always liked all that old American stuff when I was a kid, so I guess it got passed on to me somehow,” she finally looked at you, sounding even a little more undisturbed when engaged in narration about her most intimate tastes.

“I mean, Pietro doesn't like it very much… he says it's boring. And Lorna is just too small to pay attention to anything that lasts longer than five minutes, so… someone had to keep my mom company when she got home late from work. But it never bothered me, really. I... I like sitcoms.”

When a chuckle escaped between your parted lips at her own revelation, Wanda soon tried to justify herself in a quick, slurred speech, like a sinner validating her confessions in the eyes of the Lord.

“I–I mean, I, I know it's silly, but–”

“Hey, who said it's silly?” you offer her a succinct, complacent look that has her reaching for a sip of oxygen, “That's actually pretty sweet of you, Wanda.”

“You… You really think so…?” she looked at you, waiting for a hesitant answer.

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged, “My mom used to watch these old sitcoms all the time too when I was younger. So I think it's cool. It's really nice of you, Wanda.”

“Right,” there was a blistering twinge that brushed her pale cheeks, as her lips echoed a “Cool,” rather pleased with herself.

The tines of the tip of the aluminum fork in your possession, then pressed between the face of your right index finger and thumb, made to dip and break the loose dough of the plump cake placed right on top of the small plate that was supported by your left hand, before taking a significant amount of the sweet dessert so that it could be taken all the way up to your half-open mouth.

You hummed fortunately against the softly sweet taste on the face of your tongue. It was delicious on the palate, in fact, still warm as if fresh from the oven, with a comforting touch of nostalgia for something you had never experienced before – it was as if Wanda was sharing a tiny fraction of her Sokovian childhood with you. It tasted of sunny country afternoons and homemade desserts dotted with a coat of maternal affability. Tasted like pure, simple happiness of old infantile days to the sharpest feeling of the sentence.

Realizing that you were indeed eating something she had so selflessly prepared just a few minutes earlier, an emerald spotlight with an expectant green gaze engaged your facial expressions, as in an analysis project by Wanda, whose subject matter of study was none other than yourself.

“Man, this is really, really good!” it was a cry bordered by a half-child affinity, before you went back to reaching for more of the cake with the tines of your fork.

“You liked it?” Wanda's face glowed with exultant euphoria, shimmering a veil of pale green on her pretty irises, “It’s ptichye moloko, my mom used to bake it all the time when Pietro and I were kids back in Novi Grad.”

“Right, don't tell her I said that but I'm sure yours is better.”

“What?!” Wanda smiled a little dumbfounded, as her left shoulder bumped against your right bicep in a light-hearted way, witty in her comfortable good-humor that was slowly unfolding in front of you, “You haven't even tasted hers, Y/n!”

“Yeah, sorry, but as much as I’d be willing to literally die for your mom's cooking, you baked it, so I'm automatically sure yours is better.”

The high flesh of her cheeks burned in deep shades of rosy-crimson at your utterly sincere statement.

After a few episodes of the old television series (no less than five, but certainly more than two and a half), with the walls of your stomach already satisfied in your abdomen with that generous piece of cake made with a strictly followed recipe in the traditional Sokovian style, Wanda's gaze, who was then chuckling softly at some harmless silly joke made by the main character, dropped to your right profile, burning the bone in your jaw in scheming thoughts.

“When did you start smoking?”

Sweeping your eyes away from the colorful figures on the television, you glanced at the girl sitting next to you, finding a pretty face brightening before your gaze, “Sorry, what?”

“Your cigarette,” her index finger pointed at the small cylindrical object blistered behind your ear, skimming against your silver earrings, “When did you start smoking? If... if you don't mind talking about it, of course. Sorry if I'm being invasive."

“Oh, that,” you recalled suddenly from the presence of your addiction, bringing your right fingers to pick it up between your digits.

“It’s okay, I don't mind talking about it. But... I think it's been a while, actually. When my mom left my dad started smoking again and, well... I wanted to sneak some from him to see what it was like. About two years ago or so, I guess. Something like that."

You shrugged it off, because the matter had been over for longer than you cared to remember, and there wasn't much you could do if your mom just didn't want to stay anymore. But a warm grip slid across your skin as Wanda's right hand settled over the bare skin of your forearm, and there the tip of her thumb gave a cordial caress in affectionate circular motions, when her eyelids flicker so courteously into your face.

She was just a sweet girl after all, albeit under dark, torn clothes and dangling chains. Such a virtuous soul in the face of the oppressions of such an overwhelming world. When your eyes locked in midair, one trying to understand the glimmering behind the other, even the rehearsed lines coming from the television in the corner weren't enough to loosen the knot that was tied between you and Wanda.

“I… I get it, Y/n,” she mussed, leaning a little closer to your body, “I mean… it was hard when my dad left as soon as we arrived in the country. Quite hard, actually. My mom, she... she bought wine, for a while. Lots of wine bottles. I mean, she's better now, but I think that's when Pietro started doing... those things he does.”

The girl nibbled on her lower lip, and you, up close, just followed her with your eyes as she did.

“I didn't mean to bring you bad memories, it's just that...” her voice trailed off, getting smaller and smaller, as the tips of her ears reddened like two ripe peppers, “You... you look pretty when... when you smoke.”

Your heart missed a beat, and the oxygen just became unpalatable there inside that scrawny room filled with some disembodied laughter chuckled by the television set long forgotten in its sunny corner.

Setting the unsmoked cigarette aside, your right hand then dared to reach up on your forearm to search for what you've been searching for in the last few months, just snuggling your open palm against Wanda's soft cheek where, like the caresses bestowed by her finger, your own thumb tried to stroke a tiny freckle high up on her sharp cheekbone.

“Hey, look at me,” you asked in a tone bathed in tenderness, which she matched in a trace of pale green in her flickering irises, “It's okay Wanda, you didn't do anything wrong, don't worry about it. And on top of that," you half-giggled, “I think you're pretty too, you know.”

The thick dark lashes flickered out of her eyes, a half-formed mantilla of limping anguish, setting the stage for a color imbued with traces of what would be dizzying hope, flushing bright red on the pale alabaster skin of her accentuated face.

“You think I'm pretty...?”

“Of course I think so,” you nodded, your pupils dilated in close juncture with hers.

“You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, Wanda. I wish I could make you laugh every day of my life just to see you smiling. Your... your smile is beautiful. And the way you sit and fiddle with your hair, or the way you care so much about everyone… everything about you is beautiful. Not a single day goes by that I don't notice how beautiful you are.”

She swallowed when you did too; an abyssal gaze that slanted magnetically down your face, to the outline of your lips as close to hers as they were.

“Can I…” she breathed beneath her ruffled voice, “Can I kiss you, Y/n? I really want to kiss you...”

What happened next, on the initiative of a Wanda who didn't even wait for half a second when you nodded in restraint, was a needy kiss that tasted like cake, cinnamon, cigarettes and, at the end, a hint of crystalline need not contained. Your upper teeth kind of clashed with each other at first, though that didn't stop you or Wanda, who just hooked her gentle fingers into the outline of the skin on your neck. Your brain needed oxygen, but your chest just needed her; her touch, her tongue, her red.

“Please,” Wanda mussed with her swollen lip against your, her eyes heavy, warm air caressing the pulp of the commission in your mouth, “Please tell me this is as important to you as it is to me.”

“It is,” you muttered, going back to more of the taste of her tongue, “God, Wanda, you don't know how long I've been wanting to do this…”

The girl kissed you again with excruciating need, as if she really wanted to keep your soul tied to hers between the flicks of your tongues, as you felt the commission of her lips against yours twitch in a goofy smile, both hands roaming in search of the strands of your hair to hold them between her fingers, as if she wanted to breathe in from them the scent of cigarettes that so soothed her heart.

Wanda ran her hands down the length of your back, the roll of frigid rings feeling icy against your warm, bristly skin, hugging you around the waist as you wrapped your arms around her waist, your noses touching, mirrored smiles on your lips broken by kisses that were increasingly equipped with a mutual meaning that pointed to a need pulsing in your veins. 

“Can I...?” she understood the meaning behind your little question when your left palm brushed lightly against her enclosed breast, covered by the thin material of her dark blouse.

“Yes...” was a breathy sigh, “P–please, yes...”

There was consent in a tiny nod of the head, and a tiny groan breathed out from the back of her throat that reverberated through your bones as you pressed your palm lightly against her mound, one erect nipple protruding behind the fabric for, there, you've found her lacking the material of a bra to slip between your skin and hers, massaging the warm, soft flesh between the lengths of your cunning fingers.

“Fuck Wanda,” you groaned because she did too, “You're so beautiful…”

You just can't help but do it when your teeth came into contact with the pale sensitive skin of Wanda's throat, where you captured between your lips a pinkish lump of flesh glistening with a thin layer of sweat and buffed it with the tip of your tongue as if it were just a sweet dessert, feeling the burning saccharinity of the girl's naked skin as the caresses aimed at her breast became somewhat more continuous and erratic in the movements of your left forearm.

But you caught yourself surprised, when you felt a gentle grip on both your shoulders and saw that Wanda, with care as if handling the most fragile of flowers, was pulling you to fit over her, guiding you to the top.

She laid the length of her spine against the inconvenient length of the sofa, causing your wandering eyes to land on the piece of alabaster skin that had become exposed as the hem of her blouse rose, revealing, there, a band of abs marked by tiny dots sprinkled here and there, like a particular galaxy.

“You're so fucking beautiful, Wanda” was said between kisses and strokes of tongue over Wanda's abdomen, when you writhed inside the clothes that seemed too stuffy for her there, laying under your body.

“Y/n...” she moaned, but there was no word that could complement your own name whispered through her peachy lips.

Blood burned hot on the sharp red cheeks of Wanda's ivory face, her lids closed as if to hold back the tears of arousal that threatened to slip down her doll face. The rosebud mouth with the brief traces of your lustrous saliva was, every now and then, moaning in the form of a shy, smothered request.

Her lips were apparently forming delusional words, but your conscience no longer registered them, because you were too busy just watching her. Wanda was rosy, dusted with droplets of sweat, covered by the veil of ardor without realizing she was surrounded by a red haze of lust. Perfect, really. Your fingers hooked on the hem of her dark blouse, and in a slow flick of your wrist you pulled it over as you tucked the garment under Wanda's bared collarbones, revealing a pair of bare breasts there.

Watching with delight the flushed girl's unrestricted enjoyment of her satisfying freedom from the pieces of cloth that covered her silhouette, you propped yourself up on your elbows for a voluptuous view of full breasts partially covered by cascades of dark hair, blushing breasts in its perfect contours, of clear and erect nipples which you found yourself seized by a desire to squeeze between your lips and encircle it between your tongue.

However, as you threatened to resume the posture so that he could have those desirable breasts between your teeth, Wanda put a hand on your collarbone, preventing you before you even completed the act. You blinked at her face, lifting your head.

“Are you okay…?" you whispered, to which Wanda only looked away with her dark green gaze to the side, “Wanda, what is it…?”

“It's just that I've never,” she stifled, but at your encouraging gaze, something in her compelled to continue her speech, “I've never done… you know, that… with anyone… before.”

You bit your bottom lip. Well, fuck.

“It… It's all right. I've only done it once or twice, too, and I don't think one of them even counted properly,” and then, a hesitant half second passed, as you looked at her again, “You… do you want me to stop here? I don't mind stopping if you want me to. I want this to be pleasurable for you, not that you feel pressured to do it.”

“No, it's just that,” Wanda looked at you with two dark pools outlined in earnest green, pink eyelids and puffy lips, “Could this… not be a one time thing? I… I don't want to do it if it's just a one time thing.”

Your heart rose high in your chest as the idea dawned on you that Wanda wanted more than you did because you were willing to do what she wanted.

You just smiled small as you brought your face close to hers; you studied her carefully in a brief sunny moment (your crush, half-naked and fragile, had a lock of dark hair falling over her forehead and her brows furrowed, but her eyes were simple and sincere), drinking in her radiant red beauty like a drug addict – the feminine silhouette splashed with sun and, in a way, even with a synoptic veil of purity that accompanied your muse in the utopian world of dreams, like a poor helpless girl.

Gently, you kissed the corner of her rosy mouth.

“It was never intended for this to be a one time thing, Wanda,” you kissed her again, and then again and again, “I… I really like you, you know? I... I care about you. Much more than you can imagine, I promise.”

“I like you too, Y/n,” she mussed in a low voice, her forehead pressed against yours, “Really like you.”

But then, your touch approached the hollow of her groin.

“Y/n...” Wanda's tone softened, as if she was slightly embarrassed, “Y/n, please...”

“You touched yourself before, Wanda?”

The middle of her legs fluttered as it was that, even if in a partially measured way, Wanda just nodded shyly, her warm forehead still touching yours.

“Damn, you're so hot… so hot, pretty girl…”

Mouth wide and swollen, you let out a knowing smile, and gently lowered your head in a languid, lingering action, a withdrawn ecstasy making you feel compelled to bring your full lips to Wanda's soft mouth, who returned you in a wavering and sloppy kiss.

Making yourself helpful, you dipped your fingers towards the legs not completely closed under the hem of the other girl's skirt, locating between them, shrouded by the thin silk of an underwear, the fragile and swollen aroused clit, inciting a delicious moan that popped out of the girl's mouth to crash into your parted lips.

Your mouth throbbed at the sight of her like this, the gloomy, empty pupils doubling in size at the work of art that was born out of Wanda's orgasmic experience – her dark hair swept back in a purely sensual gesture, the tight mouth swallowing desperately sucking in a hiss of air, the length of her pale neck completely exposed. Her round, perfect breasts with erect nipples of a strong rosy hue, her eyelids closed and her dark brows furrowed. So desirable. So intoxicating.

You wanted to have her right there, on that little couch that would be the witness of your willingness to give her everything you had in you. You increased the pressure on Wanda's little bundle of nerves through the rising damp garment, almost even torturing her at your whim, only to see her writhe beneath your own body and groan indecently and disconnected.

A yelp was raised as your mouth closed around her right nipple, which you pampered for a while, still lingering in your low caresses, until you migrated to the other to lick and suck it into the hollow of flesh inside your cheeks. But something in you wanted more; you wanted to taste her, feel her run down your throat. And she shivered in anticipation as your mouth sailed south of her body, fitting your nose beneath her dark skirt.

“Red, huh,” you thought aloud, at the tiny wet wedge of clothing that was the only barrier erected between you and Wanda's source of pleasure; a thin lacy panty of crimson fabric, whose middle gained wet tones that made it darker at that specific point, “It suits you.”

Fingers tightened in a firm grip on the ridge of your scalp as you placed a chaste kiss on Wanda's clit, albeit over the fabric of her panties, who choked on a sudden loud yelp.

“Y/n, fuck–!”

“I don't think I've ever heard you curse like this before,” you mussed, licking the skin of your own lips, “This is new. I'll take them off, okay? Wanna taste you.”

You threaded your fingers around the inside of Wanda's black skirt, and bringing the straps of the red underwear to you, you had the girl completely naked, exposed, desirable, as soon as you moved your elbows and made your way towards what you were looking for.

From that intimate region flowed a honey of pleasure, exhaling a bittersweet odor, pink as the inside of a strawberry, bringing water to your predatory mouth. Wanda's fidgety pale legs were spread apart, and her partially shaved pussy was on display. You took your index and middle fingers to the sensitive area, and dragging the tip against the entire pink and wet extension of the inside of Wanda's labias, you collected the viscous liquid with strong flavor, drawing a strangled moan from the other girl.

You brought your smeared middle finger to your lips, fervently sucking Wanda's nectar, tasting just as you supposed it would be on the tip of your tongue; as addictive as the nicotine in your cigarette. You took them out of your mouth with a violent pop, only to then unroll your tongue to slide it into the other girl's untouched hole, which pulsed and throbbed, rubbing against the purest nothingness.

Wanda moaned, dripping against your chin. Your pace was slow at first, but you searched for more of her, and Wanda gave you what you wanted. She squirmed and grunted and squeezed your hair between her fisted hands, tangling them in the circulation of her silver rings. And your tongue wasn't very experienced indeed, but you knew what to do. The tip of your right index finger pressed against the rosy entrance as your head came out from under her skirt.

“Can I put in…?”

You felt her cunt pulse against your digit.

“Y-yes,” she yelped, “Please–!”

You kissed the inside of her thigh before carefully dipping your finger into that warm grip. And there was some resistance at first, her furrowed brow glistening in a layer of sweat, and you kept your wrist steady when it was when you again got on top of Wanda, who buried her head in your chest as you did.

“It hurts?” you asked against her ear, and she just shook her head in a hesitant move.

“N–no, but it's... it's weird,” she sighed, “I never... when–when I did, I never...”

“It's okay, pretty girl” you kissed her hair, “Gonna move now, okay? Let me know if it hurts or if you want me to stop.”

A cunning finger reached across Wanda's intimate region, reaching for what you begged to be reached, making its way towards what it sought, and, as an inevitable consequence, penetrated her through her point of entry.

In the face of the action, Wanda arched her entire spine, splitting a visceral groan from her vocal cords – for she had barely become familiar with the finger when the movement began, giving her something new to feel.

You skimmed her, filled her and understood her as nothing more than a girl with needs (needs that only yours could supply). Then Wanda squeaked; the hungry hands for something to keep within themselves searched for your shoulder blades tucked inside your crop top, and there, over your back muscles, the nails dyed in black dug breaking into the skin. Your foreheads supported each other, because during the carnal act, each other was just what you both had and what you both were.

Your forearm pumped down Wanda's skirt towards a hot, dripping grip, and as you hooked your single finger inside her tight walls, there was a moan from the other girl as you kissed it back down the inside of her throat. You kissed her sweaty forehead, then the prominent cheekbone of her flushed cheek, and a sliver of skin down the tip of her jawbone.

“Here?” touching her on a specific spot that caused a dizzying reaction, that's what you asked.

“Y–yes, please don't stop Y/n, please don't stop, please... I–I, I'll–”

“Fuck, come for me, pretty girl.”

“Y/n!”

Her velvety walls squeezed your finger before Wanda came in a loud weeping moan against your ear, pressing you against her body as if this were the last day on Earth, and she would never see you again. Silently, you just held her back, inhaling her scent from the shirt balled up over her exposed chest. You just stayed there, drinking from the moment, because you belonged to her.

The serenity that came from the unspoken heartbeats coming from Wanda's breastplate was enough to establish, at your core, the most complete and genuine feeling of latent rest that you could bear.

With your eyes closed, the room immersed in a pool of accentuated silence, you were able to hear her breathing for much longer than you could count, as she brought you unparalleled peace and immeasurable calm as nothing else had done before. She was there, and she was yours.

With your head resting on the girl's chest, lying on top of Wanda was like basking in a ray of sunlight – tender and cordial like coming home after a long journey.

The unclothed skin superimposed over the open palms of both your hands was warm and sunny, as smooth as the finest silk, and your hips were hitched in a precise, if not perfect fit—the remnants of the apex ascended in a moment of pleasure smeared the inner sides of her thighs, like a ghost of what had once been the height of the carnal act in which you were so vividly engaged minutes before.

The austere digits of your fingers amused themselves with ruffling the ends of her dark hair, cradling them around your index and middle fingers, until finally Wanda descended from her apex, her chest heavy beneath your face.

“Y/n,” she called out to you, as the seconds ticked by and the minutes settled in, “I think I wanna date you.”

Because you couldn't help but smile at such a modest return, bordering the ethereal innocence of a legitimate child, you brought your mouths together so that you could press, to the pearly lips of Wanda, a long, tongueless kiss. You ended it only to laugh, the tip of your own nose brushing the other girl's.

“You think?”

“I-I’m sure of it,” she blushed.

“I wanna date you too, Wanda,” you confessed, even though it wasn't a secret, “Is that okay with you?”

 “Yeah...” she smiled – weakly and languorously when in a wave of post-orgasm fatigue, but still a genuine and sincere smile, “Yeah, it is. You’re cute.”

“Nah, pretty girl,” you shrugged, “You’re cute. I’m… something else. I’m a freak.”

“No, no, don’t say that. You’re the most beautiful girl that I’ve ever seen, Y/n,” she whispered, “And I wanna kiss you again.”

“Well, then,” you smiled towards her jadish irises, “Let me do the honors, pretty girl.”

In such a way, you approached Wanda so that you could kiss her jaw, while your hands, clasped between the sofa and the shoulder blades of your beloved, held her in a soft and pleasant embrace. Then you kissed Wanda on the patch of skin that joined her neck to her shoulder, her collarbone and her throat. And on her lips, over and over again.

And neither of you, in that newly found little bubble of love in each other's arms, even heard the front door open.

#wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #wanda reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x you #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #agnes wandavision #agatha harkness #pietro maximoff #quicksilver #darcy lewis #monica rambeau #pepper potts #tony stark #wanda maximoff x reader

[lowkeyerror]

Drunk

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Notes: Underaged drinking, college Au, funny at times

Summary: Wanda goes to her first college party with a few friends. You're the one they call when something goes wrong.

Masterlist

You were nervous. It was apparent by the bouncing of your leg. Truly, it was more like your whole body was vibrating. Everything felt like it was in high definition. The walls were a pale green, the threads of the furniture stood out, the ticking of the clock was loud.

It was funny how thinking about her made you nervous. It was as if she had been in the room with you. Her hair shines brilliantly to match her smile. You'd listen as she spoke animatedly about whatever it was that she liked. You tried your best to focus on her words and not her lips, but it was a challenge to you.

Loving Wanda made you nervous because you weren't supposed to love her. Not to this extent, at least.

She was your best friend's younger sister. You had known Wanda and Pietro just about your entire life. The three of you were a good group of friends. Being two years younger than you and Pietro mean that Wanda didn't always mesh well with your other friends. She eventually found her own group and started spending more time with them.

The three of you still hung out regularly, but not as much as you did when you were younger. You think that you always had a crush on Wanda, though you may not have been aware at the moment.

" So, ya, I'm just really excited. My first college party."

You frowned as you tuned back into what the red head was saying," Who's going with you?"

She wasn't privy to your dismay," You know the usual girls."

You nodded your head hesitantly, trying to remember their names," Ok, just be careful. Your first time can be pretty overwhelming."

Wanda rolled her eyes," Whatever, you and Piet literally party all the time."

" Yes, but our first time was a mess."

" You're just trying to scare me," Wanda ignored your words.

" She's not. Our first party, I came home with my hand fractured. And by the end of night, Y/n had traded all her clothes for duct tape armor."

" It was way less fun to take off than it was to put on," you chimed in.

Pietro gave his sister a stern look," Just be careful, sestra, and call Y/n if anything happens."

" Why me?"

" Because unlike you, my dating life is flourishing. Monica and I have reservations at some fancy restaurant she wanted to go to. I'm planning on making it official tonight," he smiles brightly as he speaks.

" My dating life is fine, but I'm happy for you."

" Whatever you say Y/n," he turned his attention to Wanda," Be safe. If anything happens, call Y/n. If it's an emergency, you know you can always call me. Have fun, but not too much."

Pietro kissed both of you on the forehead before walking straight out of the door.

" You're having girl trouble," Wanda sounds like she's trying to hold back her surprise.

" Try not to sound so surprised, Wands."

A blush spreads across her face," Sorry, I just- Piet didn't have any issues. If he could find someone as good as Monica, I was thinking that-"

You stop her mid-ramble," I'm just teasing, Wanda. The truth is, I've had a few girls and boys interested in taking me out. I just usually say no."

" Are you not looking for someone?"

You look into her eyes, maybe for a second too long. A shaky breath spills out of your lips," Let's just say that I know what I want and none of them are it. Now, don't you have a party to get ready for?"

She looks at the time on her phone and basically bolts up the stairs. She pokes her head back down the stairwell for a second," We're finishing this conversation later!"

Then she's gone in a flash, leaving you with your thoughts. You weren't lying. There were plenty of people who had hit on you, but you just weren't into them.

The last date you had was months ago with Darcy. Everything had gone well. The two of you actually went steady for about two months, but you just saw each other as friends.

After that, you didn't try with anyone else. You wanted Wanda, and there was no denying it. Your conscience was stopping more than Pietro was. If anything, you knew that he'd approve of you two being together.

The doorbell rang, causing you to get off of the couch. When you opened the door, the girls that you assumed were Wanda's friends were standing there.

You analyzed the group as you felt them do the same with you.

" You're Wanda's friends?"

" You have got to be Y/n," the one with dark brown hairs speaks first, earning a nudge from the blonde standing beside her.

A smirk took over your features," In the flesh, what are your names?"

You step aside to let them in the house. They file one by one.

" I'm Kate," the brunette speaks.

" Yelena," the blonde says shortly.

The redhead doesn't give you an answer. You don't mind pressing her for it.

" And you, sweetheart?"

Her eyes scan over you, and it makes you a little nervous.

" Natasha... sweetheart," she sends a wink your way.

There's a tension between the two. It stays until Wanda appears in the stairwell. She looks amazing. You gulp as your eyes rake her outfit. There's no doubt in your mind that she's going to have eyes on her. The thought makes you clench your jaw.

Her friends whistle as she makes her way down the stairs.

" You look... good, Wands." Your tongue grazes your bottom lip as you speak.

She blushes and that makes you smile," Thanks, Y/n. Are you girls ready to go?"

" Not so fast, let me see your phones," you stop the girls.

Kate is the first to pull out her phone and eagerly hand it to you, it makes you chuckle to yourself. You put your number in her phone, then Yelena's, and lastly Natasha's.

" If anything happens, call me. I don't care what time it is, I don't care how minor it is. If you're too drunk to drive, if you just want to leave, or if some guy is being a weirdo. Anything, and that goes for all of you, not just Wanda."

The girls nod in understanding before heading towards the front door. Natasha, Kate, and Yelena walk out, but Wanda lingers for a moment. She turns back to give you a quick hug, you kiss her temple, similarly to how Pietro did earlier in the night.

" Be safe, I'll hold down the fort."

While she's walking out of the door, you can't help yourself," DON'T FORGET TO CALL, IF YOU NEED ANYTHING."

In the hours that passed, you found yourself switching between watching tv and being on your phone. Nothing too interesting. You had dozed off at some point, at least that what you assumed when you were jolted to reality by the sound of your phone ringing.

" Hello?"

Your eyes shot open as the phone speaker was filled with loud music.

" Hey... hottie, we- we're a little. Whoops, sorry. We- could you just come. Please, hot Y/n. Really, really hot Y/n," Kate's words were barely coming out of her mouth.

" Katie, share your location with me. Can you do that, while we're on the phone, lovely?"

" Mmmm. Ya- ok, I- did I do it," she chuckled as her location appeared on your phone.

" Just sit tight for me, ok, Katie?"

Katie let a vulgar moan slip through her lips," You- you're so hot Y/n. The nicer you are, the mo-more I want you t-to taste my- I think I'm going to puke."

" I'll be there as quick as I can," you repeated into the phone before hanging up.

You shook your head before laughing a bit at the brunette's words. You were quick to hop in the car and drive to the location Kate sent you.

From the outside, you could tell that the party was definitely a level 5 on the chaos scale. The amount of people in the front yard alone, sent a little more urgency in your movements.

4 girls amongst hundreds. How hard could it be? You pulled out your phone and made 3 phone calls. Within 15 minutes, you had assembled a team to help you search for the girls.

" Thanks for these guys. Carol, we're going to have you grab Natasha, Valkyrie you're going to get Yelena, Darcy you'll handle Kate. Everyone clear?"

They nodded.

" Just bring them to the car once you find them. BREAK."

The four of you quickly dispersed. The only thing on your mind is finding Wanda.

You checked outside first. Not really wanting to go inside of the house unless you had. As far as you could tell, she wasn't in the front or the back.

Going into the house almost made you want to give up immediately. There were people from corner to corner. You had to push through bodies just to move. The floor took about 20 minutes for you to search properly. You didn't see Wanda anywhere.

When you got to the kitchen, the population of people was a little less dense. You saw Val struggling to get Yelena off of a table. The blonde kept kicking out her foot every time Valkyrie tried to grab her.

You got close enough to where they could both hear you," Yelena, would you just go with my friend please!"

The blonde turned to you," Oh, this is your friend. I thought she was a kidnapper. Obviously, I did not want to be kidnapped. Ok, strong warrior woman, let us leave."

" I've been telling you I was a friend of Y/n for 10 minutes," Val huffed as she yanked the blonde off of the table.

" Wait! Do you know where I can find Wanda?"

Yelena's eyes squinted and she pointed behind you. Following her gaze, you saw Wanda trying her best to get up the stairs. You took off in that direction, scared that you'd lose sight of her.

Going upstairs at a party like this only led to trouble. You'd stopped it from happening too many times not to have a pit of fear in your stomach. After shoving your way through the crowd, you ran up the stairs.

You didn't bother knocking and started just opening doors. To your surprise, a lot of the rooms were actually empty. The last door you opened is where you found Wanda.

She was sprawled out like a starfish on the bathroom floor. Her head turned in your direction and a wide grin spread across her face.

" Hi."

The way she was looking at you made your heart stop. There was something in her eyes that you couldn't quite decipher.

" Come on, Kate called, so I came to get you guys."

She laughs, eyes not moving from yours," I- I don't think I can stand up."

You shake your head, but nonetheless pick the girl up off of the ground. Her arms lock around your neck, while her legs do the same to your waist. Her head is buried in your shoulder. You can feel her warm breath tickle your neck.

Carrying her out of the party was a trying task, but you were able to manage. When you got to the car, your friends stood, waiting with the other drunk girls.

" Where'd you find her?" Carol asked.

" Bathroom floor. Let's get them in the car."

Natasha was the most coherent, so she sat up front with you, while Kate, Yelena, and Wanda took the back seat.

" Thank you guys for helping me. Lord knows, doing it on my own would have been a pain in the ass."

" You're definitely going to need help with them," Darcy says.

" We'll follow you," Valkyrie chimes in.

You try to stop them," You guys don't have to. I know you probably have better things to do with your night."

Carol snorts," And leave you alone with 4 drunk 20-year-olds, absolutely not. We're coming whether you like it or not."

You smile at your friends," I love you guys. We're headed to the Maximoff's."

They all mutter 'love you' back before getting in their cars. The backseat of your car was loud and vibrant due to Yelena and Kate.

" Y/n," the woman in your passenger's seat said.

You glanced at her briefly before turning your attention back to the road," Natasha."

" Thank you for picking us up."

" It was nothing, you guys can call me anytime. Your safety is important to me."

You hear the girl sniffle beside you," But... you don't even know us. The fact that- that you came is so," she starts sobbing in the middle of her sentence.

" Hey, hey, you're ok. You're Wanda's friends, and by the transitive property you're my friends too. I'll always be there when my friends need me."

" You're- You're so kind," she cried even harder.

" HEY! STOP MAKING MY SISTER CRY," Yelena yelled from the backseat.

" They're prob-bably happy tears, Leny. I know if I was in the fr-ront seat with really, really hot Y/n, I'd be crying too," Kate said dreamily.

You did your best to hold in your laughter. With a quick glance in the rearview mirror, you caught Wanda's eyes. She was already looking directly at you. Her expression was something you recognized, but not on her. Her gaze seemed lustful.

When you pulled up to the house, you waited for your back-up to get there before trying to unload the girls from the car.

Wanda was still convinced that she couldn't walk and wanted to latch on to you. You let her as the other girls were helped by your friends. As much the drunk girls wanted to just crash on the couch, you made them shower and change first.

If Wanda had been on a stranger's bathroom floor, who knows where the others had been.

After the showers, the girls seemed to be ready for bed. The Maximoff's were well off, so the house was pretty big. Wanda's friends slept in her room. While your friends took one of the guest bedrooms close by. They wanted to be able to check on the girls.

You and Wanda were the only ones who hadn't retired for the night. The two of you sat in the living room watching tv as you had done hours ago.

Wanda was close to you. She left no empty space between the two of you. Her skin was touching yours.

" Y/n," her voice was deep when she said your name. You were scared to look at her.

" Ya Wands," you tried to focus on the tv to ignore your heartbeat.

" What do you want?" She said it like it was an obvious question.

" Earlier, you said you knew what you wanted and none of them were it. So what do you want?"

" Wanda," there was a warning edge to your voice.

It didn't deter the woman. She carefully slung her leg over yours to straddle your waist. The ends of her hair tickled your face as she looked down at you.

" I think I know what you want."

Your body feels stiff under hers. Every muscle is tensing, and you don't know what to do.

" You're drunk," you tell her, avoiding eye contact.

" Tell me I'm wrong." Her finger starts in the middle of your chest and trails all the way up until she's lightly gripping your chin. She's forcing you to meet her eyes.

" Wanda, you are going to regret this in the morning. We can't have this talk right now. You're drunk and I'm not. It's wr-"

She leans down so that her lips are close to yours. It stops your sentence in its tracks. You swallow hard, fighting the urge to connect your lips.

" I'm not that drunk, Y/n. I know what I'm doing," her lips brush against yours as she speaks.

It takes all of the strength that you have, but you lift the red off of you and get to your feet.

" I'm going to bed. If you want to talk in the morning, we can do that." Your feet carry you up the stairs, but you stop when you hear Wanda call your name.

You lock eyes with her. A sly smile lies on her lips. " You didn't tell me I was wrong."

You hold eye contact with her for another minute and make your way to the second guest bedroom, which is basically your room. The first thing you do is lock the door behind you. Then you face plant on the bed. Your body is hot from all of Wanda's advancements.

Eventually, your breathing evens out as you fall asleep with the redhead running through your mind.

The next morning, you are woken up by the sound of banging on the door. In your groggy state you open the door, still wiping the sleep from your eyes.

The silence makes you stop wiping your eyes to see who disrupted your sleep. Wanda is standing at the door with her eyes glued on you. That's when you realized you are only wearing a bra and some boy shorts.

You clear your throat, expecting a blush to spread across her face. It doesn't. Instead, her eyes snap to yours, seemingly darker than usual.

" You just gonna stare at me or did you want something sweetheart?"

She takes her time answering you," Can I come in?"

Reluctantly, you let her in the room. She closes the door behind her, and you swore you heard the lock click.

" So..."

" It's the morning," she says, and you know exactly what she's referring to.

You take a seat on the bed and motion for her to sit next to you. She does and waits for you to speak.

" You're wrong," you say simply. You can see her confident demeanor leave as she tries to leave the room. Your hand reaches out to grab her wrist and pull her back to the bed.

" Listen. You're wrong because I think that you think that I'm just attracted to you. I am attracted to you, I mean, you have always been drop-dead gorgeous."

You pause to make sure she's listening to you.

" So you like me?"

" No."

She tries to leave again, but this time you get up to block her path. " You've got to let me finish, Wands. I know you too well to like you. I'm light-years past liking you."

Her eyebrows furrow," Then what are you saying?"

" SHE'S SAYING THAT SHE LOVES YOU!" A voice that sounds suspiciously like Kate's yells from the other side of the door.

Her outburst is followed by loud whispers and shuffling feet. You laugh at the invasion of privacy.

" Is- is that what you're saying?"

You give her a genuine smile," Wanda, I've been in love with you for a while now. I just didn't know what to do. We've known each other so long, and Pietro's like a brother to me. You guys are the most important people in my life, and I was scared to fuck that up."

Wanda's hand caresses the side of your face," I love you too."

Your eyes shine as they peer down into hers. It felt like you had more to say, but then Wanda's lips were on yours. The words were now irrelevant.

Her lips were the softest you had ever encountered. She was certain in her movements. She was certain about you. The sensual pattern in which she kissed you made you feel like you were floating.

You had never known such peace. You had never felt something so right. In this moment with Wanda, you felt like you were complete.

" I want to do that forever," your eyes shot open to look at the beautiful woman in front of you.

" Me too."

There was a knock on the door," I'm glad you two finally sorted things about, but I spent a lot of money on this breakfast."

Pietro's voice sounded from the other side of the door. You could feel the heat rushing to your face.

Wanda giggled at your state and told Pietro you'd be right down. She kissed you one more time.

" Put some clothes on, I don't know if I want everyone seeing what's mine."

" Yours?"

She nods, her hand plants it on your bare stomach. It rubs the area up and down," Mine."

You smile," I don't mind that at all."

You slip on a shirt and some sweatpants. Then the two of you head downstairs. All eyes are on you, when you make it to the kitchen.

" Took the two of you long enough. I mean both to get together and come to breakfast," Pietro smiles teasing at the two of you.

" Don't tease them hard. I mean, it took you entirely too long to ask me to be your girlfriend," Monica shoots back at him.

He pouts," Why must you tease me so, my love."

" Enough sickly romantic couple behavior. Let's eat."

Together you all sat at the table and ate. The smile wouldn't slide off of your face for anything. Here you were surrounded by people that you loved. The woman that held your heart was right beside you. Her hand intertwined with yours under the table. The light chatter made the atmosphere even more warm. This was the happiest day of your life. You'd be having a lot of those now. With this group of people as your friends, and Wanda as your other half, you could see many happy days ahead of you.

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #kate bishop #yelena belova #valkyrie #carol danvers #darcy lewis #monica rambeau #pietro maximoff

[i-writes-things]

Bring You're Kid To Work Day Maria Hill Edition

Maria Hill x (15 year old) daughter!reader

Request:

Warnings-NOne, fluff, a sugar rush, giggles, protests, whining.

Extra Pairings:

Avengers x Hill!reader

Not my Gif*

Steve walked in with a plate of cookies. COOKIES! Maria swiped them from Steve, hoping to hid them from-

"COOKIES" Y/n, Maria's 15 year old daughter shouted from her spot on the ground.

"Oh god." Maria picked her head up, smiling at her little girl. "Yes, my friend Steve brought them for-" She looked at Steve.

"B-both of you guys." He smiled at Y/n.

"Oh my gosh, I have wanted cookies since last week." Y/n shot her mom a quick glance.

"I told you I looked down that aisle four times. How am I suppose to know they are behind a big box of healthy snacks."

"It's their tactic to keep us on a diet. But I've told you about this before."

"Okay, well I can't remember everything. You know that." Taking a cookie and going back to her seat, Y/n says,

"Well you should." And to make sure her mother doesn't hear she adds a quick, "Thanks Steve."

"You're welcome." Steve gives Maria a nod before ducking out and almost instantly someone else walks right back in.

"There she is! The infamous Y/n Hill. If only Maria told us she had a kid. Maybe you'd be an Avenger by now."

"Really?"

"No." Maria butts in, giving Tony Stark a look. "I think Fury needs you, he is on the other end of the hall." She points down the way. Tony hands Y/n a crusty popsicle that he probably found on the ground and leaves the room. Maria walks over and hands her daughter a cookie in exchange for the lolly. She throws it away, despite Y/n's protests. "No, you're not eating that thing. It's not even food."

"Mooooooom!" Y/n huffs.

"Hey, no whining, come on, we're in public. And you're a big girl." Y/n pouts at Maria. "My big girl." She ruffles your hair. Y/n takes another cookie and walked out the door and down the hall. Maria listens from her desk. She hears people greet her and her daughter's laughter as she traveled down the hallway. Hearing Tony again, and Monica, Carol, Wanda, even Vision's, offering her a brownie. And Maria knew bringing her kid to work was gonna be more mothering than work as Y/n walked in with a plate of cookies, a smile and Vision with Wanda on his heels. Come to say hi.

"Hi!" Wanda cheers!

"Mom look what I found!" She showed her mom the plate, offering her one. Which she declines, seeing the chocolate smeared on Y/n's face. She goes to wipe it off, which Y/n avoids, scrunching her face.

"Okay, I have to be at training, 3 minutes ago. She kisses Vision on the cheek and gives Maria and her daughter a smile as she exits.

"I shall be on my way too. Good to see you, Miss Hill." Vision waves good bye to you and your mom.

Over the next few hours it seems you just started to bounce off the walls after finishing BOTH the brownies and cookie plates. With Maria's help, but mostly your own.

"Mommomomomomomomomom-"

"Babe." She held one hand out to you, the other trying to hold herself together. "Please. If you don't specifically need me, don't call my name."

"Mom?" Maria took a breath.

"Yes?"

"I don't know I just wanted to say your name"

"That's-" You were now running down the hall saying, as it echoed across the walls,

"Look mom nooo haaaaands!" Running with your arms flailing about behind you. Giggling you ran back into her office running around to jump into her chair, trying to, but fitting awkwardly in her lap. Maria just let you go, knowing you would crash soon enough. And 30 minutes later you were asleep on the ground. Thor had come in to gift you surprise birthday cake flavored pop tarts but you asleep. So he left. Maria wasn't even able to greet him before he was marching back down the hall. He came back in, gently putting a small blanket on your back. Maria smiled. She finally felt how the rest of her colleagues did. She realized that they were all just big family. And they all love Y/n just like she does.

After Thor left again, Maria took a photo of her sleeping baby. She smiled and watched her sleep peacefully. Turning out the lights she left to go talk with her family right down the way.

🏷️

@ravensinthedaylight @may-z3@youre-a-total--poser

#avengers #platonic #platonic avengers #maria hill #tony stark #tony stank #thor odinson #thor of asgard #wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x vision #vision #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #maria hill's daughter #monica rambeau #carol danvers #captain marvel #maria hill x daughter #maria hill x you #maria hill x y/n #maria hill x reader #aos #maria hill x daughter!reader #mother daughter relationship #daughter!reader

[sycamorelibrary754]

Guardian Angel

Chapter 9: When in Rome

Summary: I have no idea how to summarize this chapter besides saying buckle up. 🫣

Warnings: Danger, angst, claustrophobia.

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: My apologies for how long it took to get this chapter posted. I wanted to take my time on it because it’s essential to the rest of the story. I hope you enjoy it!

Guardian Angel Masterlist

You walked into your room, anxiously shutting the door behind you. Your mind races as you pace back and forth. Running your fingers through your hair, you struggle to comprehend why Onyx Petroleum would be interested in Sokovian land. Your mental spiral is interrupted by a knock on your door, followed by Tony's voice asking if you're okay. You open the door, and the billionaire walks in, quickly shutting the door behind him.

"I can't believe I didn't clock it before," Tony said, holding up the newspaper. "Those con artists from Onyx Petroleum are your parents - sorry."

You force a smile and respond, "It's okay. They deserve the title, trust me."

"I know firsthand," Tony muttered.

“You know my parents?” 

“Your father was a regular visitor of the Stark Expo in the old days.” You're taken aback, wondering how you never knew that. “Dear old dad rarely spoke to me growing up, but I remember he once said that Y/F/N Y/L/N was the only person who made him believe that humanity was doomed to extinction.”

“Sounds about right,” you said.

“Oh, and then," he recounted, "A few years ago at a September Foundation grant presentation at Cal Tech. Your mother, as usual, was doing her thing - schmoozing with everyone. She cornered Pepper and started rambling about how a partnership between Onyx Petroleum and Stark Industries could transform the global oil exploration and production industry. Pepper kindly reminded her that Stark Industries no longer partners with companies or individuals that harm the environment or the population. So your mother called Pepper a fraud and threw her drink in her face! Can you believe that?"

You sigh as you sit down on the edge of the bed, “Unfortunately, yes.”

"Any idea what this is about?" Tony asked, holding up the paper again.

You shake your head, saying, "No clue. They've never shown any interest in foreign oil.”

"Do you have access to anything that would give us insights into their business dealings?" Tony inquired.

You shake your head again, feeling helpless. "Not anymore. My parents removed me from all of their bank accounts and company mainframes when they kicked me out," you say with a huff, throwing yourself back onto the bed. “I don’t get it. Sokovia was destroyed. What’s left for them to find.”

“Vibranium.”

“What?” You said as you sat up. “That doesn't make sense. Sokovia was a war zone.”

“What do you think they were fighting over?” the billionaire asked rhetorically. 

“How do you know this, Tony?” 

“After Ultron's attack on Sokovia and the subsequent sinking of Navi Grad, FRIDAY performed an extensive deep-sea mapping of the ocean—every square centimeter. Seven hundred thousand images were captured at a depth of almost 4,000 meters,” Tony explained, tapping the screen on his watch. “The mapping exercise was aimed at locating the submerged remnants of the destroyed city and ensuring the safety of any underwater vehicles or divers exploring the area. Doing so would provide insights into the underwater topography of the region and assist in the reconstruction efforts.” 

You rise to your feet as a hologram of the 3D map materializes before your eyes.

“Instead, FRIDAY found something else,” Tony explained, shifting pieces back and forth through the air. “Outside of Wakanda, Sokovia has the largest natural vein of Vibranium anywhere in the world, but no one has been able to mine it yet because…,” zooming in on the composite. “It’s underwater.”

You studied the 3D image carefully, trying to comprehend how Onyx Petroleum would go about mining the most potent substance on Earth. 

“This much Vibranium in anyone’s hands is frightening,” Tony said. “In the hands of a company notorious for unethical business practices, it’s perilous.” 

“Does Wanda know?” Your mind was racing with concern for your girlfriend.

“No, and I don’t think we should tell her,” closing the hologram. 

“What? Why not? She has a right to know! It was her home. We can’t just—“

"Easy, Willy Wonka," Tony said. "I know she needs to know, but we need more information before we can act. I need to do some more research and figure out the next steps. In the meantime, tell the rest of the team what we know. Wanda is running point on a full-team, large-scale mission the day after tomorrow, and it benefits no one for her to be distracted, right?" 

You nod hesitantly in agreement, still processing everything. "Trust me, Y/N. If we take our eyes off the ball, bad things happen. We need to be strategic and focused if we're going to keep everyone safe." 

After a moment of silence, you let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, you're right," you concede, looking down at your hands. "I just don't feel good about keeping this from Wanda. We've always been honest with each other, and I don't want to ruin that." 

Tony places a reassuring hand on your back. "You're not lying to her. You're just postponing the truth to protect her," he explains calmly. 

You slowly nod, taking in his words. It made sense, in a way. But the guilt still lingered in your mind, gnawing at you. You knew that, eventually, you'd have to come clean.

*^~^*

You stirred from your sleep two days later, but the uneasy feeling in your stomach lingered. Your conversation with Tony was still vivid in your mind. You peered outside and saw SHIELD agents hustling and bustling around the grounds. You felt lost, unsure of what to do or where to be, so you did your best to keep a low profile and stay out of everyone's way. This was your first time seeing a mission play out before you. Sure, team members had come and gone before in the three months you had been living at the Avengers Compound, but being so focused on your recovery, you hadn’t paid that close attention. 

FRIDAY interrupted your train of thought as you stood by the window. “Ms. Y/L/N,” she said, “Ms. Maximoff requests your presence in The Overwatch.”

You were confused. “The Overwatch? Where’s that, FRIDAY?”

“I’ll escort you there, Ms. Y/L/N,” FRIDAY said, opening the elevator doors.

As you stepped into the elevator, you noticed it was going down. The compartment sprang to life, and you counted at least three floors before it finally stopped. The door opened, revealing a futuristic virtual command center. Wanda stood with her back to you, looking up at a wall of monitors.

You couldn't help but exclaim, "Wow!"

Wanda turned at the sound of your voice, and her smile was enough to melt you into a puddle. "Impressive, isn't it?" she said.

You nodded, still in awe of the sight. "What is this place?"

"This is The Overwatch," Wanda explained. "It's a command center that allows Fury or other Avengers who aren't on a mission to provide support in real-time."

You walked over to where Wanda was standing. "It's only used when everyone gets called away or on big-scale operations," she added.

You looked up at the bank of monitors, each displaying a name in the corner. Your eyes quickly found Natasha's, labeled N. Romanoff. Next to her, you spotted T. Stark, S. Rogers, B. Banner, T. Odinson, C. Barton, B. Barnes, S. Wilson, K. Bishop, Y. Belova, P. Parker, and C. Danvers. 

"Am I even allowed to be in here?” You asked.

"Technically, no," Wanda replied with a smirk, "but this is my first time running point on a mission, and I could use the company."

Curiosity getting the better of you, you asked, "Who are they after?"

"Unfortunately, that information is classified," Wanda replied, typing away on the keyboard and pulling up a map, "but I can tell you they are in Europe."

"Well, that narrows it down," you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Wanda sighed and sat before the command module, motioning for you to join her. "I wish I could tell you more," she said, "it's so much more stressful sitting in here than being out in the field with the team."

You tried encouraging her, saying, "Hey, at least you're safe here."

“Yes, but I feel so helpless," Wanda admitted while monitoring the team's vital signs. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to Fury for agreeing to let me ease back into the swing of things, but the loss of control scares me.” 

The tense atmosphere was palpable in the comms as Steve's voice cut through, "Wanda, we're on our final approach. ETA, 30 seconds."

Natasha's raspy voice chimed in, "How are we looking?"

"The approach is clear—five guards in the courtyard outside the building.

"I got it," Tony interjected. You heard muffled groans on the other end of the comms as Tony dismantled the threat in a matter of seconds. "We're clear outside."

Everyone, turn on your body cameras," Wanda commanded as the monitors rose to life, giving you a first-person point of view of what everyone on the team was seeing.

"Nat, the security office is two doors down on your left," Wanda directed.

"Noted, I'm on my way," Natasha confirmed.

"When do I go in?" Peter's voice sounded eager on the comms.

"Hold your position, Spider-Boy," Yelena said. "Patience is key."

"Yeah, Peter. You're too eager. Just slow your roll and wait for the signal," Kate Bishop said.

"So is being quiet, Kate Bishop." Yelena cut in again.

I can't believe this is happening," you said involuntarily.

"Shh," Wanda whispers.

"Who is that?" Thor asks as he catches his hammer flying towards his monitor screen.

"Is that Y/N?" Carol asked between shots.

"No, it's not," Wanda lied to protect you.

"It is Y/N! What are you doing in The Overwatch, Willy Wonka?" Tony asked.

“Aww, they’re having a date night,” Clint joked sarcastically as you watched an arrow fly away from his camera and out of sight.

"Everyone, please be quiet. You're clogging the comms," Bucky demands irritably.

"Let's all be civil," Sam adds.

“I concur,” Bruce agreed.

"How are we doing, Nat?" Steve asked as he knocked out another security guard.

"I'm bypassing the firewall, Natahsa replied, typing away on the keyboard. “There. The Iris Detectors are down.”

"On my signal," Wanda spoke calmly. "Disabling the dome cameras in 3, 2, 1. Go.”

Sitting in front of the bank of monitors, you found yourself momentarily bewildered. You weren't sure which of the screens to focus on as the team moved in unison. Each one displayed a different angle of the action, and you didn't want to miss a single moment of what was unfolding before you. You watched with bated breath as they efficiently made their way through the building, their movements purposeful and precise. It was a sight to behold - you had never seen such determination and skill in your entire life. 

Despite seeing footage of the Avengers on the news over the years, watching them firsthand was an entirely different experience. You felt incredibly fortunate to be able to call them your friends. As they worked towards the second level, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over you. These were some of the most powerful beings on the planet, and yet they were risking their lives to protect others. It was a humbling and inspiring sight to behold.

As the team entered the building, you watched Bucky effortlessly kick in a door. "I'm in the lab," he announced, his voice calm and collected.

Tony's voice crackled through the comms, "Do you see the mainframe?"

"There's two, which one is it?" Bucky replied, scanning the room.

"Open the silver panel," Tony instructed.

With a few hard pulls, Bucky managed to pry off the front of the mainframe. Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass filled the air as Carol crashed through a nearby window with a guard's arms wrapped tightly around her neck.

Without hesitation, Bucky turned to assist her. "Keep going! I got this," Carol shouted, her voice slightly strained.

Tony's voice cut through the chaos, "You should see the mainframe HiperSockets that provide high-speed TCP/IP connectivity within the central processor complex."

"For fuck's sake, in English, Tony!" Bucky shouted, his frustration palpable.

"Language,” Steve reprimanded.

An alarm began to blare as red lights flashed, signaling the imminent arrival of more guards.

"Bucky and Carol, eight more guards are heading your way," Wanda's voice sounded over the comms. "Thor, you're the closest."

"I'll be right there," Thor answered.

You watched as The God of Thunder bounded down the stairs and into the lab. In a thunderous flash, he took out all eight guards, leaving the room eerily silent.

"Cut the blue cable!" Tony finally shouted.

Bucky pulled out a pocket knife and quickly sliced through the blue cable.

The rest of the team arrived on the scene, and the lights inside the mainframe went out, plunging the room into darkness.

"How do we know for sure it's down?" Kate asked, her voice laced with concern.

Natasha fired three gunshots into the mainframe, causing the container to smoke.

"That ought to do it," she said, lowering her gun.

"Well done, everyone," Wanda praised. "I'm no longer seeing a heat signature from your location, which means the building is offline."

"Thanks, Wanda. Nice job on the point," Steve said. "We'll reconvene at 1800 hours to go over Phase Two."

Wanda looked exhausted as she removed her earpiece. The monitors had gone dark again; she leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath to calm herself down. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and looked at you.

"Wow, sweetheart. That was amazing! I've never seen anything like that in my life. You were great,” you said, touching her shoulder. 

Wanda smiled weakly, feeling a sense of satisfaction mixed with exhaustion. "Thanks," she said, "it was touch and go. But I'm glad they were able to get the job done."

You nodded in agreement. "Are all the missions that intense?"

Wanda thought for a moment before answering. "Not all of them," she said, "but this is one of the most challenging ones we've had in a while. But that's what we're trained for, right?"

“Do you miss it? Being out there, I mean,” you asked hesitantly. 

Wanda’s expression was pensive as she spoke, her gaze fixed on the ground. "It's a complicated situation," she began slowly. "On the one hand, I don't want to leave my boys. After we lost their father, I made a promise to Billy and Tommy that I would always be there for them, no matter what." She paused for a moment as if lost in thought. "But on the other hand," she continued, her voice growing softer, "sometimes I feel like I'm denying who I am. Like my magic knows, I’m turning away from that part of myself.”

As you sat beside Wanda, you suddenly realized something that had never occurred to you before – you had never seen her use her powers. You searched your memory for any instance where you had witnessed her abilities in action, but you drew a blank. The only thing you could recall was being in her arms after the accident before you passed out, but even then, you couldn't remember if she had used her magic to keep you safe.

You took a deep breath and reached out to hold her hand. "I know we've never talked about this, but is there a reason you've never used your magic in front of me?" you asked, your voice gentle and curious. You hoped she wouldn't take offense to your question, but you couldn't help feeling a little curious about this aspect of her life that she had kept hidden from you.

"I was wondering when you would finally ask me about this,” Wanda sighed softly. “Since Westview, I have had difficulty trusting myself to use my powers safely. I lost control in a way that I never have before, Y/N, and the thought of putting anyone through that again is unbearable." Her voice was tinged with remorse and sadness as she continued, "I don't want to be a danger to those around me or myself. I’m afraid to use my magic again, and I don't know how to overcome that fear."

As you stroked her hand, you spoke reassuringly to Wanda. "I know you're feeling guilty about what happened in Westview, but that was only one aspect of your powers. You've done so much more good in the world than bad, and the magic that courses through you is a testament to that. Remember all the times you used your abilities to save lives, protect innocent people, and bring hope to those in need. That is the true measure of who you are, Wanda. Don't let a single mistake define you or your legacy."

Wanda nodded as she looked at you. “Thank you, Y/N,” wiping the tears away that threatened to fall. “I know I can’t avoid using them forever,” she looked around the room, “I also know I can’t hide down here for the rest of my life.” 

“Why don’t you show me?” 

“What?”

“Show me your powers. Come on, let’s see what you got, sweetheart. It’s just us, and we’re three floors underground. Nothing can go wrong, I promise.”

She looked at you hesitantly before she finally agreed, “Okay.”

Wanda rose from her seat and walked to the middle of the room. She took a deep, cleansing breath, held out her left palm, and began slowly circling it with her right hand. You watched as an orb of red energy materialized in her palm. Pointing her hand in your direction, you felt the chair you were sitting in move underneath you as you quickly rolled across the room and stopped on a dime in front of the redhead.

“Woah,” you said in amazement.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” she smirked.

Slowly but surely, she rose above you, her body glowing with a vibrant, otherworldly red magic that seemed to envelop you completely. Despite your shock, you felt a sense of calm wash over you as you basked in the warmth and comfort of the magic surrounding you. It was as if Wanda had wrapped you in a cocoon of pure energy, and you felt safe and protected in her presence. Her eyes were fixed on you, glowing like twin stars in the night sky. For the first time, you knew without a doubt that you were in the presence of a powerful being beyond your understanding. Yet, despite her immense power, she was your Wanda—gentle and kind.

The redhead reached down and gently touched your cheek. For a moment, you closed your eyes and basked in the warmth of her touch. You couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same sense of warmth and safety with you that you felt with her.

I do, Y/N," Wanda said with nothing but adoration in her eyes.

You were confused and asked, "Do what?"

"Feel the same warmth and safety you feel with me," she replied.

You wondered, "I, did I - I don't think I said that out loud, did I?"

"I heard your thoughts, love," she answered.

You repeated, "You heard me - you can hear my thoughts? Oh, God."

Wanda reassured you, "Oh no, no, Y/N. It's okay. This was the first time I've ever listened to your thoughts. Outside of work, I never invade anyone's privacy that way and never would with you without your permission or unless it was an emergency."

The redhead reached for you as she floated down. The red magic swirling around your joined hands.

"That was incredible, sweetheart. I know it will take some time, but don't hide this part of yourself away. It's wonderful.”

The sudden sound of the elevator whirring through the walls startled Wanda, breaking her concentration and causing her to dismiss her red magic hastily. "Shit! Quick, hide in that storage cabinet," she urgently whispered, pushing you towards the stainless steel structure.

"What?! Why?" You asked, confused and alarmed.

"I told you, you're not technically supposed to be here. The security clearance is off the charts," Wanda explained as she urged you towards the cabinet.

You sprinted towards the cabinet and quickly shut the door just as Maria exited the elevator. "Hey, Wanda. Great job on Phase One. Everything looks good on our end," she said, scrolling through her tablet.

“Thanks,” Wanda said, nervously tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear as Maria continued.

"I'm going to go brief Fury, but I'll be back for the check-in call at 6 pm to discuss Phase Two."

"Okay, see you in a bit," Wanda replied, relieved she hadn't noticed you.

As Maria stepped back into the elevator, she teasingly called, "Oh, and Wanda? If Y/N is going to be down here with you, at least give her a key card."

Wanda blushed at being caught. "I don't know what you're talking about," she fibbed.

"Of course, you don't," The Deputy Director chuckled. "Ask her to bring some Candy Bar chocolate for us later when she comes out from the storage cabinet," she added with a giggle as the doors closed.

You cautiously opened the door to the cabinet and stepped out, your cheeks reddening as you met Wanda's embarrassed gaze. She fished a blank white key card out of her pocket and handed it to you. "Here, now you can legally be down here with me."

You took the card and turned it over in your hands. 

"Thanks," you said softly. “Tell Maria I'll bring some chocolate truffles later," you winked.

"Hmm, sounds good," Wanda smiled, leaning in to give you a gentle peck on the lips.

*^~^*

You arrived back at The Overwatch a few hours later, your white key card and a bag of truffles in hand. Maria was sitting next to Wanda in front of the wall of monitors. You sat down next to the redhead, passing the bag of chocolates to Maria. 

"Aww, Y/N. How did you know? This is exactly what I wanted."

"Shut up,” you smirked. “So, what's happening here?" As you pointed toward the dark screens.

"We had the check-in call about forty-five minutes ago, and Steve should be reporting in any minute to confirm they've reached the target,” Wanda explained.

As if on cue, Steve's camera turned on, followed by the rest of the team. "Speak of the devil!” Maria exclaimed. 

You could tell immediately that the team was in an underground passage, evidenced by the rough stone masonry surrounding them. Their footsteps echoed through the tunnel, adding an eerie quality to the tense atmosphere.

"Hey, Cap, you ready to go?" Maria asked, glancing up at the screen.

"Affirmative," Steve replied. “Although some of us are feeling a bit claustrophobic."

"Speak for yourself,” Clint chimed in.

"Tony, you want to take that one?" Wanda asked, typing away on her keyboard.

"Sure thing, Red," Tony replied. "Everyone, reach inside your suit pockets. You should find an object the size of one of Morgan's Legos."

Yelena, ever the skeptic, held up the miniature object Tony had referred to. "What the fuck is this?" she asked, her voice laced with annoyance.

"Language," Steve admonished.

"Oh, tell it to someone who cares," Yelena retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Sestra," Nat scolded, her voice echoing through the tunnels.

"It's a bit of technology I borrowed from our friendly neighborhood ant, and subsequently made even better,” Tony smirked. "Press the button on the top."

As one, the team pressed the button, and a small oxygen mask grew to fit in their hands.

"And we couldn't have worn these on the walk down here because?" Sam asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Because they only have a 24-hour oxygen supply," Tony explained. "We need to conserve as much as possible."

"Do I have to wear this?" Carol asked. "I can breathe in space. I'm pretty sure I'm fine down here."

"The vacuum of space is very different from underground," Maria said. "We don't want to take any chances. Put it on, please, Danvers."

“Why doesn’t the billionaire genius have to wear an oxygen mask?” She asked. 

“There’s an oxygen supply built into the suit,” Tony smirked.

With a resigned sigh, Carol donned the mask, and the rest of the team followed suit. Wanda went over the topography of the catacomb, identifying key landmarks and intricacies that could help them navigate the maze-like structure safely.

In a hushed tone, you turned to Maria and asked, "Have they ever had an underground mission before?" 

Maria shook her head and replied, "No, not like this. This is completely uncharted territory for them.”

"Okay, as we discussed," Steve said, pointing to the left. "Group one with me down the left tunnel; group two with Tony down the right tunnel."

As you observed intently, you saw each group setting off towards their designated directions, down the ancient corridors. The walls were adorned with intricate archways, illuminated by sporadic pockets of light that added to the mystique of the surroundings.

“Mr. Stark, this is amazing! Have you looked at these carvings and art? Easily third century—” Peter started. 

“This isn’t a history field trip,” Natasha interrupted. “Pay attention to your surroundings.”

The group had been walking through a tunnel for some time when, without warning, felt the ground beneath their feet shake. A low and ominous grumbling noise echoed through the air, and everyone was thrown into the tunnel walls. 

"FRIDAY, what's happening?" Tony asked urgently.

"Accessing the wave radar and enhancing the thermogenic signature," FRIDAY responded.

“Do you feel that too, Steve?” Wanda asked

Steve grunted as he struggled to regain his balance. "Yeah, is it an earthquake?" he asked.

"It's an energy surge, Boss," FRIDAY replied to Tony. "A core reactor holds together the primary stabilization of the tunnel structure."

"That's not first-century tech," Peter mumbled, face down on the ground.

Kate helped him up. "Yeah, no kidding, Sherlock."

Just as the group was getting back on their feet, Sam's voice cut through the tense silence.

"Hey! Hold it!" he shouted.

"What is it, Wilson?" Tony asked.

"Someone is watching us at the end of this tunnel," Sam exclaimed as he ran ahead of the group.

"Sam, wait!” Steve shouted.

"Lock onto Wilson," Maria said, standing up.

Wanda quickly shifted to Sam's primary camera and enlarged the visual. The mystery figure took two quick turns to the left as if they knew exactly where they were going. A third turn to the right, and Sam lost sight of the man for a split second. Looking around quickly, but to no avail, he said, "I lost them."

"How will he get back to the rest of the group?" You asked.

"Good question, Y/N," Sam replied.

Maria glared over at you. "Sorry, I keep forgetting they can hear me too."

"Sam, you're closer to Tony than Steve," Wanda said. "I'm pinging his tracker right now. Two lefts and a right should do it. And Steve and company, follow your tunnel about a half a mile down and then take a right, and you should meet up with everyone else."

The team wandered through the catacomb tunnel in silence, only the sound of their breathing and the stone under their feet breaking the stillness. When they were finally reunited, Tony broke the silence, "Okay, new plan. We're staying together." 

Peter quickly agreed, "I'm with Tony on this one." 

Yelena, standing nearby, murmured to Kate, "Color me surprised." 

“Oxygen masks stay on, Nat,” Maria said pointedly. 

"Yes, detka,” Natasha replied.

Yelena couldn't resist mocking her sister, "Yes, detka," she repeated sarcastically. But before she could carry on, Natasha pinched her arm, causing her to yelp in pain. 

Thor shouted, "Knock it off, Lady Widows!" 

Wanda added, "Thor is right. The catacomb can be disorienting, but you need to keep moving. Tony, I'm reviewing the National Geophysical Data Center records to assess your declination value and sending them to FRIDAY. Keep true north." 

You turned to Maria, puzzled, "What did she say?" Having no clue what your girlfriend was talking about. 

"They should turn right," Maria whispered. 

You watched as everyone walked in a single-file line to the right, trying their best to keep their footing on the uneven stone. Suddenly, a second energy surge echoed loudly through the comms, causing everyone to turn their cameras downwards. Your heart raced as you gasped at the sight of cracks quickly forming between everyone's legs. Before anyone could react, the ground gave way beneath them, accompanied by screams and the sound of broken gravel. 

Maria gasped, and Wanda put her hands over her mouth in shock. 

"Oh my God!" You exclaimed. "What the hell just happened?" 

Wanda asked urgently, "Steve? Tony? Can you hear me?" 

Maria followed with a shaky voice, "Natasha? Come in! Anyone?" 

"Shit," she said anxiously, picking up the phone in front of her. "All SHIELD agents, Romeo, Echo, Delta." 

"FRIDAY, Code Red. Initiate Emergency Protocol 3000," Wanda ordered, running back towards the elevator and flipping a red switch under a glass cover. 

"Compound shutdown initiated. Director Fury and Mrs. Stark have been notified and are en route to The Overwatch," FRIDAY responded.

You stood there, frozen, not knowing what to do with yourself. The shock of what you had just witnessed was so intense that your vision started to blur, and you felt as though you were about to pass out. Suddenly, you felt someone's arms on your shoulders, and you jumped slightly. 

"Y/N? Y/N, love, stay with me, okay?" Wanda said, her voice soothing.

You looked up at her and then back at the monitors, pointing at them with a shaking hand. "They... it..." you stammered, struggling to form coherent sentences.

Wanda nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I know," she said, rubbing her hands up and down your arms in a gesture of comfort.

She slowly led you back to your seat, still holding onto your shoulders, and conjured a glass of water out of thin air. Taking it in your hand, you felt the coolness of the glass against your skin, which helped ground you and bring you back to the present moment.

*^~^*

Fury furrowed his brows and asked Maria, "When was your last point of contact?"

"Five minutes ago."

"Maximoff was running point?"

You didn't appreciate the way Director Fury was speaking about Wanda as if she wasn't in the room, but as an outsider, you chose to hold your tongue.

Wanda stepped forward before Maria could respond, "Yes, sir."

"What happened?"

“Two energy surges of unknown origin, but we didn’t have time to assess the cause before-." Wanda’s voice trailed off as she struggled to continue.

“Before you lost them,” Fury finished the sentence for her. Wanda nodded silently, unable to look the Director in the eyes.

“She didn’t lose them! It was an accident,” You suddenly heard yourself shout.

Pepper placed a hand on your shoulder as Fury’s gaze shifted over to you. 

“Who is this?” Fury asked, pointing at you.

“I'm Y/N Y/L/N, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you,” you said, slowly reaching out your hand to shake his, but the gesture went unreciprocated.

"The car accident victim," looking you up and down. "She looks fine, why is she still here?"

You wondered why you were still here yourself, but Maria jumped in before you could respond, "She’s still recovering, Sir."

"Do you have clearance to be down here?"

You fumbled in your pocket for the white card Wanda had given you earlier. Fury looked at the card but gave you no response before turning back to Wanda.

“Are we still picking up pings from their trackers?”

“Yes, faintly,” Wanda said.

"Do we know how deep the catacomb goes?" He continued.

“Roughly 65 feet, but the fall could have taken them another 50 feet at least," Wanda stated.

“They were wearing oxygen masks?” Fury asked.

“Yes, but they only have a 24-hour oxygen supply if they haven’t been damaged,” Wanda explained.

Fury turned back to Maria, “How fast can we have a team of agents on the ground in Rome?”

Your ears perked up at finally knowing where everyone was.

“Four hours,” Maria responded.

“Make it three,” The Director said.

“Yes, sir,” Maria replied as she started to walk away.

Wanda interrupted calmly, "No. I’m going."

“Out of the question, Maximoff. You haven’t been back in the field since your return, save for her accident," Fury pointed at you. "I’m not sending you out there by yourself in the most dire moment in the history of SHIELD. You don’t know what you’ll find down there, and you’re still too unreliable."

“Unreliable,” Wanda repeated. “With all due respect, Director Fury, no one is more reliable than me. There is no one more powerful than me, and you and I both know that it will take someone who can move heaven and Earth, literally, to bring everyone home!”

Fury looked over at Pepper, who had yet to say a word—doing her best to keep her calm.

"Wanda can do it," Pepper declared, fidgeting with her wedding ring. "I have faith in her." 

"You leave in 20 minutes,” Fury said, turning to Wanda. “But you're not going alone.”

“I’ll get changed right away, sir,” Maria assumed.

“No, you’re staying here, Hill. You’re too close to the situation with Romanoff.”

“Nick, I-“

“No, you’ll run co-point from here. That is final."

“Co-point? Who is-“

“I need to make a couple of phone calls. In the meantime, Maximoff, you get suited up. We’ll meet you in the hangar,” Fury ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Wanda acknowledged.

You followed Wanda out of the elevator and into the locker room, feeling nervous and determined. Wanda suited up with a look of solemn determination on her face. You didn't want to show your nervousness; Wanda had enough on her plate. She took out her phone, frowned at the screen, and then turned to you with a serious look.

“I need you to do something for me,” the redhead said.

“Of course, anything,” you replied, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

“I need you to pick up Billy and Tommy and stay with them at my house. I know you have only met them once, but they liked you,” she started to ramble, her voice tinged with anxiety. “Pepper offered to take them, but I just can’t let her do that while Tony is…” she paused, her voice breaking with sadness.

You nodded understandingly, realizing the gravity of the situation. “I’ll do it,” you said, grabbing both sides of her face. “The boys will be okay, I promise. You bring everyone home.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I I already called the school to let them know you’ll be picking them up. I know I can trust you,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion. Your lips met in a kiss—one of comfort and reassurance.

The word trust was all it took for Onyx Petroleum and Sokovia to rush back to the front of your mind. But then you remembered Tony’s words. “If we take our eyes off the ball, bad things happen.” Wanda needed to focus. But God, it was killing you to keep this from her, even under the most dire circumstances.

You walked with Wanda to the hangar, an area of the compound you had yet to visit. The mood was a stark contrast from this morning. SHIELD Agents moved about the space with the same purpose and direction, but the energy differed. It was anxious.

You caught sight of Director Fury standing next to one of the Quinjets with two women you didn’t recognize, but it was clear Wanda knew both of them. She ran a few steps ahead of you and wrapped her arms around both of them in an emotional embrace.

“Y/N, this is Dr. Darcy Lewis and Captain Monica Rambeau,” Wanda said, motioning to each woman. “This Y/N Y/L/N, she said, touching your back.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both,” you said as you shook their hands, trying to keep your composure.

“Hi, nice to meet you too, Y/N,” Darcy replied warmly.

“It’s a pleasure,” Monica said, giving you a small smile.

"Captain Rambeau will be accompanying Ms. Maximoff to Rome, and Dr. Lewis will be running point with Deputy Director Hill from The Overwatch," Fury explained before glancing at his watch. "It's time to go."

Wanda looked at you with a mixture of anxiety and determination in her eyes. You tried to hide your nervousness, not wanting to add to her stress.

After a deep breath, Wanda spoke, "Billy and Tommy will be off from school in a couple of hours," she said, handing you her house keys. "Let them know that I'm working with the rest of the team, but don't give them any details. I’ll try to check in if I can.”

"Okay, sweetheart," you replied, taking the keys and putting them in your pocket. "Just make sure everyone comes home safe."

"I will," Wanda said with a nod, her eyes shining with determination.

As you leaned in to kiss the beautiful redhead, you felt a rush of emotion wash over you. Her soft lips met yours, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away. When you pulled away, you wrapped her in a tight embrace, holding her close to your chest. You watched as she walked towards the Quinjet, accompanied by Monica. Darcy and Fury were waiting by the side of the hangar, their faces solemn. You couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as the jet's engines came to life and slowly lifted off the ground. You stood there, watching as it climbed higher and higher into the sky until it was nothing more than a speck in the distance. As it disappeared from view, you felt a pang in your chest, as if a piece of your heart was flying away with it.

#guardian angel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x you #marvel mcu #the avengers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #tony stark #bucky barnes #sam wilson #yelena boleva #kate bishop #peter parker #carol danvers #bruce banner #thor odinson #clint barton #darcy lewis #monica rambeau #nick fury #maria hill #angst

[indigosabyss]

The Marvels Spoilers///

It just occurred to me that if Monica indeed landed in the XCU, she's going to freak out when she meets Quicksilver. Who looks exactly like Ralph fucking Bohner.

Before that, she's calm and reasonable, cooperative with the X-Men and their questions. Peter Maximoff enters the room and she looks him dead in the eye, "if this is some witch hex bullshittery again im going to lose it."

and power walks to the closest bathroom to have a breakdown. Peter has no idea what he did.

#pietro not really being back was prolly so heartbreaking for her #bc he was proof that wanda really could bring back the dead #that her mother could be brought back too #but it wasn't true #and now she has her mother back. and he's here too. pretending to be pietro all over again #which means this isn't true either #wanda maximoff #monica rambeau #pietro maximoff #peter maximoff #wandavision #x men movies #the marvels

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Lightning Bug - Chapter 13

Master List for Lightning Bug 

Warning: mention of human traffiking, mention of abuse, guilt, nightmares, fluff, 

Word Count: 6.1 K

Natasha walked out of her room and was welcomed by the scent of bacon and cinnamon. Her stomach growled. She stretched, winching slightly. Her muscles were still stiff but she was alive. She and her team came home alive and that was what mattered. She heard laughing as she walked into the kitchen. America, Kate, and Yelena were sitting down with a plate of food and the teen was flipping a pancake. It was becoming such a normal right that the Black Widow missed it when she was on the mission. More laughter echoed against the walls, it was mostly America’s laugh at what Kate said. “If you keep standing there the food is going to get cold,” Yelena said, looking over her shoulder. Natasha rolled her eyes, walking over to the group. A plate was set down in front of her. 

“Want a cup of coffee?” The young girl asked. 

“I can get it,”

“Sit,” she said. “I’ve already eaten.” Natasha sat down with much protest as she watched her pour a cup of coffee. 

“We got the same treatment,” Kate said, taking a piece of bacon from the plate. “I’m not complaining. It’s like we are VIPs.” A warm cup of coffee was set in front of her. 

“Milk, cream, or sugar?” 

“Just black,” she blew on it and took a sip. She didn’t miss the way the teen’s nose scrunched in disgust. “What?” 

“Nothing,” she raised her hands innocently. “I’m not here to judge how people like their coffee even if it’s gross.” America laughed. 

“What you drink shouldn’t be considered coffee,” the teen gasped, clutching her heart in mock offense. 

“You are never getting my pancakes again,” Kate laughed as America tried to correct the mistake she made. But Yelena didn’t join in. She was pushing her last piece of pancake around in the syrup. Natasha bumped her shoulder against Yelena’s. 

“Ty v poryadke (Are you okay?)” She asked. Her sister didn’t verbally answer but her shoulders moved up and down. “Koshmar? (Nightmare?)” Yelena nodded. She knew this mission was going to be tough. “Vy khotite pogovorit' (Do you want to talk?)” 

“Mozhet byt' pozzhe (Maybe later),” she answered, joining in on the conversation on the correct way to drink coffee. Natasha caught eye’s looking at her. She offered Natasha a kind smile and a nod of her head. Natasha smiled back, letting their laughter fill a part of Natasha that was missing. 

*

You weren’t sure what Natasha and Yelena were saying due to them speaking in Russian but you knew it had to do with Yelena. It didn’t take an Avenger or a Black Widow to notice the shift in her mood. She looked like she didn’t sleep at all. After breakfast, Kate and America helped clean up and Yelena took off. You knew she was safe, the team was on strict orders from Helen to rest and recover. But there was a part of you that was anxious to know where the blonde ran off to and make sure she was safe. So, you asked FRIDAY where she was. The AI informed you she was in the shooting range and wanted to be left alone. Well, rules were meant to be broken. The worst thing she could do is turn you away or shoot you. Your hand rested on the door handle. Let’s hope she chooses to tell you to leave as you open the door. 

You didn’t know much about guns but you knew it wasn’t good to be shooting in the dark. It smelt like fireworks so you knew Yelena had just recently fired. You felt the wall to find the light switch and you flipped it on. The room was illuminated. One wall was covered with lockers and a few benches. Across the lockers were stalls facing the targets. You saw Yelena sitting on the ground, her knee to her chest and her elbows resting on her knees. She didn’t look at you, didn’t notice that the lights turned on as she stared at her hands. Her green eyes were glossy, she had a far-off look in her eyes. 

“Yelena,” you said softly. She made no move if she heard you. “Yelena,” Still nothing. You wondered if you should call Natasha or Kate but more people could overwhelm her. “Dorogoy,” the Russian word still felt thick and unnatural on your tongue. But the usage of her primary language snapped her out of the dissociative episode she was in. She looked at you, eyebrows together. 

“I came in here because I didn’t want to be found,” she said. Her Russian accent was thicker. 

“Right,” you said. “But I need your help.” She waited for you to continue. “I’m learning Russian,” you held up your phone. “But I don’t know where to start so here I am.” Her gaze softened as she looked from your phone to you. 

“You're learning Russian,” you nodded. “Why?”

“Because you, Nat, and Wanda speak it,” you said. “If you’ve learned English so it’s only fair I try to learn your language.” It was why you were learning Spanish because of Lucia. 

“Oh,” she whispered. 

“Can I join you?” You asked, pointing to the empty spot next to her. She nodded. You sat down next to her and showed her your phone. “So I downloaded Duolingo.”

“Duolingo?” She questioned. “What is that?” 

“It’s a green animated owl that teaches you languages,” she gave you a confused look. “I don’t understand it either. Here let me know you.” You took your glove off your left hand and opened the app. You showed Yelena the profile you created before you made the walk down here. You struggled at first - selecting the wrong verb to complete the sentence and incorrectly matching the word to the picture. But Yelena was patient. She gave you time to think and figure it out on your own then provided you tips to get the answer right the next time around. “You're a good teacher,” you said to her. 

“You’re not the first person I’ve taught the language to,” you looked at the blonde. “Lila wanted to learn. Laura and Clint speak the language. Not sure if she kept up with it.” You nodded, returning to the app. It was quiet between the two of you. It wasn’t awkward but rather nice and peaceful. Koshmar. Koshmar. You repeated the word over and over again in your head. It was the word Yelena nodded to when Natasha said it. 

“What does koshmar mean?” You asked, looking at Yelena. You tripped over the word but you knew she understood by the way her shoulders tensed up. 

“It’s pronounced koshmar,” you repeated the word a couple of times. “Better. It means nightmare.” You hummed, returning your attention to the app. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“I wasn’t going to ask,” you said. You continued to learn simple words and basic grammar rules but you felt Yelena’s eyes on you. “What does suka mean?” You asked. Yelena laughed. 

“Suka means bitch,” you gasped, looking at the blonde. 

“Natasha called Maria a bitch! That’s so mean!” Yelena laughed again which made you smile. 

“That sounds like my sister,” you fell back into silence. “What are you doing?” She finally asked. “Why are you here?” You closed the app and tapped your phone against your hand. 

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” you said, glancing at her and then looking forward. “You don’t have to talk about it but I’m here if you want to.” Yelena sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Do you want to hear about one of my nightmares?” She didn’t say anything as she looked at you. 

“Well, when my parents were alive they liked to have parties, show off the house or celebrate something,” you said, looking forward. “The issue was no one knew my parents had a second kid so I helped set up the party, cooked, cleaned, and did anything my mother needed. Right before the party, I would be sent down to the basement. My nightmare was about a Christmas party. My brother was going to bring me food when the door opened and Natasha and Wanda came down the stairs. They taunted me and dropped the plate of food they brought down for me. 

“I grabbed onto Natasha’s arm and she got bad and threw me down the basement stairs. I ran down the stairs and pleaded for them to help me but when the door opened America was there. She told me we weren’t friends,” you cleared your throat. “Told me no one cared about me.” You were leaving out some details of the nightmare but it wasn’t important. 

“Minus my sister and Wanda, did that happen to you?” You nodded. 

“Sort of. I was promised food if I stayed quiet and good but the power went out and I was blamed for it,” you shrugged. “A car accident caused it. It didn’t matter, my father was upset.” You saw Yelena’s jaw clench. 

“He hit you,” you nodded. You noticed a fire form in her eyes. You smiled. 

“He’s dead,” you told her. “Died in a fire along with my mother.” 

“Death doesn’t erase the pain,” you agreed with her. Yelena rested her forearms on her knees and stared ahead. You waited for her to collect her thoughts. You were in no rush. “Natasha and I aren’t biological sisters,” you figured that much but the blood didn’t make a family. “A mission brought us together and when the mission was over we got separated. I remember her arms around me as the shipping containers opened and I was ripped out of her arms,” she looked down and you saw tears running down her cheeks. Your heart was breaking for the blonde sitting next to you. 

“I’m guessing the nature of this mission is to bring back some memories.” Yelena nodded. 

“Yeah,” her voice cracked. “I don’t understand why the world is so mean and cruel.” You sighed, leaning your head against the wall. 

“I don’t know why either,” you said. “But I’ve been told that in the darkest moments, you’ll find the brightest stars.” You helped out your hand up for her to take. Unlike Natasha or America, she didn’t hesitate to take it. “You aren’t alone, Yelena,” she smiled, whipping away a few of her tears. 

“You aren’t either,” you smiled, letting go of her hand and reopening the app to practice. You gasped suddenly looking at the blonde. “What?”

“Can you teach me how to shoot a gun?” Yelena looked, disbelief all over her face. 

“No!” you pouted. “1, Natasha would kill me, and 2, why do you need to learn how to shoot a gun?” You shrugged, standing up. 

“I think it would be cool,” you headed for the door. “Are you going to stay down here?” Yelena nodded. 

“I’ll be up shortly,” she paused. “Thank you.” 

“No problem,” you turned around to leave. “Oh thank you for not shooting me,” you said over your shoulder. “I was worried about that when I opened the door.” Yelena’s laughter echoed after you as you opened and closed the door behind you. 

“Shit,” you heard followed by a crash. You spun around to see Sam trying to pick up one of his crutches that fell. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, walking over to him. A shy smile formed on his face as you picked up one of the crutches that fell. 

“I was going to do a light workout,” you blinked at the man standing in front of you. 

“Your leg is broken,” you said. He rolled his eyes and adjusted the crutch underneath his armpit. 

“I was going to do arms,” you continued to stare at him. Sam sighed and sat down on the bleaches. “Don’t look at me like that, I'm fine.” You sat down in front of him, pulling your knees to your chest. 

“Are you fine?” You questioned. He looked at you. 

“It's those eyes,” he said. “They stare into your soul and force you to reveal all my secrets,” you giggled. “And yes I am deflecting.” You smiled. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course,” you said. “I may not answer but you can ask.” Sam laughed. You liked the sound of it. It was warm and comforting. A reminder of home. You kept eye contact as you waited for him to ask his question. 

“When you were younger, what did you want to be when you grew up?” You didn’t expect that question. “Look I know you are still a kid but humor me.” You sighed, resting your chin on your forearms. 

“I wanted to be an astronaut,” you loved looking up at the moon and imagining what your life would be like up there. 

“Why an astronaut?” You smiled. 

“Because it was the only thing I could think of to get far away from my parents,” you leaned back on your palms. “Now that I say it out loud, that seems sad.” Sam nodded, offering you a sad smile. “What about you? Did you always see yourself being an Avenger?” Sam laughed, shaking his head. 

“I was a boy from Louisiana. Being a ‘superhero,’ he added quotations around the word. You frowned at that. “Wasn’t on my radar. I wanted to be a fisherman and take over my parents’ seafood restaurant.” 

“What changed?” You asked. It was his turn to sigh. 

“My parents died. I joined the military,” you waited for him to continue. “I served two years and was a test pilot for their EXO-7 Falcon,” you watched as his eyes became lost in the memory. It reminded you of Yelena. 

“Did you lose someone over there?” You asked. He nodded. 

“His name was Riley. He got hit with an RPG and fell out of the sky,” he sighed. “There was nothing I could have done.” You remember what America said about how Sam got hurt - something hi Sam that knocked him out of the air. You stood up and sat down next to him. You wondered if he felt like Riley, helpless and scared. Or did he feel guilty that he couldn’t do more while he was hurt? You smiled. 

“I sometimes forget how human all of you are,” you felt Sam watching you. “I’ve seen you guys on the news and in the newspaper doing impossible things to save us normal folk,” you finally looked at Sam. “But you are human, with human emotions and human limits.” Sam looked away from you and stared at the empty training room. “I’ll say the same thing to you as I said to Nat, you can’t save everyone.”

“What’s the point then?” He asked. “Why were we granted these gifts if we can’t save everyone?” It was a tough question and one that made sense. 

“I don’t think you're supposed to,” you whispered. “Good and evil, superheroes and villains, it’s a balance. One can’t exist without the other.” Sam let what you said to sit with him. 

“Have you seen Avatar: The Last Airbender?” You shook your head. “It’s a good show. My nephews like it and I think you would as well.”

“I’ll check it out,” he smiled, nodding his head. 

“You are wise beyond your years, young Avatar,” you giggled, making a mental note to watch the show. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you stood up and offered your hand to help Sam stand. He took it and used the extra assistance to get this balance and pick up his crutches from the floor. “When I leave here you better not go try to work out and I’ll have FRIDAY tell me and I will come back down here,” Sam laughed. 

“Yes ma’am,” he gave you a mock salute. You turned to leave the training room but stopped and turned to look at the Avenger. 

“And Sam,” you said. “You are a hero. Please don’t think you aren’t. Riley would be proud of you.” Sam looked down, his brown eyes glossy with tears. 

“Thank you.” 

*

You left the training area and walked into Tony’s lab, watching the billionaire and the doctor tinker with Sam’s wings. They had a whole lineup of suits to work on, the mission must have been a hard one. “Hey kid,” Tony said, lifting his safety goggles and turning off the blow torch. “What are you doing in our neck of the woods?” You smiled. 

“I was seeing if you had something. But if you are busy then it can wait. It’s not that important.”

“Of course it is,” he said. “What do you need?” 

“Do you have an extra notebook or a pad of paper I can have?” He blinked at you. You could see the gears turning in his head. 

“You want a notebook,” he said slowly. You nodded. “To write on.” You nodded again. “Like paper.” 

“Yes!”

“Why not use a tablet?” You sighed as Bruce chuckled. 

“I have one that you can have,” he stood up and went to go get it for you. You sat down on a stool Tony pointed at. The top spun. 

“Why do you want a notebook?” He asked. You didn’t miss his smile as you began to spin in a circle.  

“I’m teaching myself Russian,” you liked the way the world looked as you spun. The colors were blurring together. 

“You're teaching yourself Russian,” you nodded. 

“I taught myself how to read and some Spanish, Russian can’t be too hard. Especially when so many people in the tower speak it,” Tony grabbed onto the chair to stop spinning. “Whoa dizzy.” The billionaire chuckled. 

“You’ve never been to school,” he said. “Even before you were homeless.” You shook your head. 

“Nope. It’s hard to send a kid to school you wanted no one to know about,” Bruce came back and handed you a small notebook. “Thanks, Bruce,” you smiled. “I’ll see you guys at dinner tonight,” Natasha told you there was another team dinner tonight and you wanted to be there. 

“Kid, wait,” you turned back to look at Tony. “Have you thought about homeschooling since you live here now?”

“Homeschooling?” You questioned slowly.

“Yes! You would have to take a placement test to see where you are at but we would be the best teachers. Tell her,” he hit Bruce on the shoulder. He glared at the man, rubbing the spot he hit. 

“It should be your choice but we could help you,” Oh. You’ve never thought you’d have the chance to go to school. You’ve read about it; all the cliques, school dances, and football games. 

“I feel like you have more important things to do than homeschool me.” 

“Look, you don’t have to make a decision now. Think about it. The options will always be there.” Tony said. 

“Thank you, Tony,” you said. “And thank you Bruce for the notebook.” 

“Of course. See you at dinner.” You took the stairs back to your floor as you pondered his offer. You watched your brother go to school. You saw him stress over upcoming tests, read from textbooks, and do homework. Some kids loved not going to school but dreamt of it for so long. But you couldn’t accept Tony’s offer - they had far more important things to do. The Avengers were superheroes. They saved people from imprisonment and stopped those that want to take over the world. They didn’t have time for that - they’ve done so much for you already. 

You sighed, quicking grabbing your headphones from your room, and sat down on the couch. You pulled up Youtube and found videos on Russian grammar. You lost track of time as you took notes on each video, filling the notebook with grammar and vocabulary. You were in the middle of a video on vocabulary and verbs used in a house when you felt your body tense up. 

It was a weird feeling as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Three people entered the kitchen, and that feeling was normal. People gave off energy, you could tell how many people were in a room, what they were doing, and if they left. But this felt different, goosebumps formed across your skin. You knew it was America, Yelena, and Kate without having to pause the Youtube video and America was walking over to you. What was going on? 

America jumped over the back of the couch, carefully not to land on you. You paused the video and took your headphones off. “Whatcha doing?” She asked. 

“I’m learning Russian,” you smiled at the confused look on her face. “It’s slow work. Do you need something?”

“Lena, Kate, and I are going to get ice cream. Do you want to come?” She asked. You smiled. 

“Yes!”

“Peter is going to meet us there,” you looked at Kate, who was texting on her phone. “Is that okay?” 

“Of course, it is,” you said. “Let’s go!”

*

It was a different ice cream place than the one Natasha brought you to. Peter was already by the door, scrolling through his phone. He looked okay minus a cut on his cheek. He smiled, putting his phone away when you got closer. “Hey, how are you guys?” He asked, hugging Kate and America. 

“Ready to eat my weight in ice cream,” America said. Peter laughed, holding the door open. You were about to follow but you stopped. They were there, Michael and his crew. Michael waved at you, smiling. His smile ran a chill down your spine and the color drained from your face. You could still feel his hands on your wrist as he pinned you to the wall. Why were they following you? What did they want? 

“Hey,” you looked at Peter. “Are you okay?” You nodded, looking back down the street and they were gone. 

“Yeah,” you said, walking into the ice cream. America and Kate were ordering while Yelena got a table. You waited for your turn to order but your mind was focused on Michael. When it was your turn, you got a hot fudge sundae and waited with Kate to get everyone else’s order. You brought your ice cream, America, and Yelena’s to the table and sat down next to the Black Widow. Soon Peter and Kate joined you. Yelense sensed your mood change and kept making jokes under her breath that caused you to smile. 

Finally, you joined in - laughing and smiling as the stories got told. You smiled at Yelena, thanking her silently. She nodded. Your stomach was still in knots and your heart was pounding but you knew you were safe for the moment. Michael wouldn’t do anything if you were with the Avengers. With them you were safe. 

*

Natasha watched the elevator doors open and her sister, Kate, America, and Y/n walked onto the floor with ice cream in their hands. “Just the trio I’m looking for,” Maria said. The teen pointed at herself. “Not you.” She smiled, sitting down on the couch next to Wanda. “I need mission reports on my desk by tomorrow afternoon,” America groaned, flopping on the couch. “It’s not coming from me, kid.” 

“You’ll get them,” Kate said, sitting on the couch. “Thanks, Maria.” Natasha watched as Y/n laughed along with Wanda as the scenes played out. It was such a nice change, watching the teen show more of her personality. She must have felt eyes on her because she turned around. She smiled, watching the Black Widow. Natasha waved back and the girl’s attention went back to the TV. 

“It’s strange,” she said to Maria, quietly to not disturb the movie. “Something changed within. I don’t know what happened.” She looked back at Maria, who was unwrapping a Hershey's kiss.  

“I do,” Maria said. “You could have died on that mission, Nat. Any of you could. Maybe it was a wake-up call she needed.” More laughter drew them back to the TV. “FRIDAY alerted her as soon as we got back that you were hurt and ran to med bay. She didn’t leave your side.” Maria opened another candy and offered it to Natasha but she turned it down. “Whatever you're doing, it's working.”  

The sound of the young girl’s laughter filled the room again. It sounded so free. Natasha smiled. The Black Widow always wanted kids but the Red Room stripped that right from her. Motherhood was a concept that scared and fascinated her. She was taken from her biological mother, the woman was killed because she was trying to get her back. Melina was a mother given to her because of a Red Room mission then taken from her when it was over. But she’s seen Laura love her kids with everything in her. So her concept of motherhood was skewed. 

Natasha sighed, picking up a piece of chocolate and opening it. The girl wasn’t even hers and she hadn’t been here for long but Natasha knew she would do anything to protect her. 

*

Dinner was barbeque food. You sat between America and Yelena with Sam and Maria sitting across from you. You thought dinner on your floor was crazy; this was a whole new level. Everyone was talking over one another as the food was being passed around. You could barely keep up. “Are you doing okay?” America asked. 

“You guys are crazy,” the statement caused Sam to laugh. 

“Welcome to the family,” he said. “You have to be equally as crazy to join.” You smiled, rolling your eyes. Family. You had a family. Something you dreamed about for yours. It was an overwhelming feeling but it didn’t scare you, which surprised you. You enjoyed it. You had a long way to go to open up and tell them the truth about what you were capable of but that was okay. Your left hand was underneath the table and felt America grab it. She sent you a small smile and you squeezed her hand back. 

A stream of light and color appeared in the living room. You jumped to your feet, the chair falling to the ground. You weren’t the only one on their feet. Tony stood up, with part of his Iron Man suit on his arm and Steve was facing the light. Soon it disappeared and a group of people was standing there. The table seemed to relax but you were still unsure of who these people were. 

“Ah! It appears we’ve arrived at the perfect time,” a man said. He had short dirty blonde hair and he was holding an ax. “Dinner!”  

“Thor, what are you doing here?” America fixed your chair and you sat back down. 

“We were in the area,” Thor said. Wanda conjured up another table that was added to the other end. “And FRIDAY informed us you were back from a mission.” The man sat down. “What a better time to celebrate.” You were watching the new additions. There were two older women; one with dirty blonde hair down to her shoulders and the other had curly black hair. 

“Carol Danvers and Monica Rambeau,” America mumbled, loud enough for you to hear. You nodded. “They aren’t around a lot because they deal with more off-world threats.” You weren’t sure what she meant by that. 

“And that guy is Thor, right? The God of Thunder?” You questioned. America nodded. 

“He can be.” She paused. “A lot.” You giggled. Thor, Carol, and Monica sat down while the other member of their group went over to talk to Peter. She was young, maybe around your age. She had black long hair that went to the middle of her back. Before you could ask America who she was, the girl looked away from Peter and looked your way. She smiled, waved, and walked over to you. You felt your heart pound. 

“Hi,” she said. “Peter said you're the new addition to the tower. I’m Kamala.” 

“Hi,” you said softly. “I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” You found her smile infectious. 

“Same to you,” she clasped her hand together. “Well, I’m starving. Maybe we can hang out after dinner.” Before you could say anything she ran over to Peter, plopping down in the empty seat. You shook your head. 

“Like I said crazy,” Yelena and America laughed. Once dinner was over you helped gather the few leftovers, bringing them into the kitchen. 

“So you must be Lady Y/n,” you still jumped at the sound of God's voice directed at you. Wait. Did he just call you a lady?

“Uh yes sir,” you said. “It’s nice to meet you.” You turned to Carol. “You too ma’am.” Carol scrunched her nose. 

“Call me Carol. That made me feel old,” She said, taking a sip of her beer. 

“That’s because you are old,” Monica teased, sitting down next to Thor. “Monica Rambeau.” She introduced herself. She didn’t offer her hand as you had your hands full of food. 

“Here,” Thor pulled up an empty chair. “Sit with us.” You sat down on autopilot. You heard Natasha laughing. 

“Take it easy on her, Thor,” she took the food from you. “I don't want you scaring her off.” She looked at you, asking a silent question if you were okay. You nodded. The god frowned. 

“I’m not scaring her,” he looked at you. “Am I?”

“No-no, sir,” Thor smiled. 

“Perfect!” He said. “Now, how do you like living at the tower? Are the others being nice to you? I will strike them with lightning for you, Lady Y/n?” Your jaw dropped, unable to contain your surprise. Carol laughed. 

“He’s very protective of the Young Avengers,” she said. 

“I’m not an Avenger,” you said, finding your voice. “I just live here.” Monica shrugged. 

“Technicalities,” she said with a wave of her hand. “So, are you enjoying it?” You nodded. 

“Yeah, they’ve been great,” you began to fiddle with your gloves. “They saved me.” You admitted. 

“They tend to do that,” Before you could question what Carol meant, Thor slammed his hand on the table. The sound made you jump. 

“We should celebrate!” 

“Celebrate?” You questioned softly.

“Yes! I’m guessing you didn’t get a proper welcome home party and the others just returned from a successful mission that is a call for drinks.” Carol rolled her eyes. 

“You never need to find a reason to drink.” It wasn’t hard to convince the others to throw an impromptu party. The tables were cleared and soft music was playing to fill the quiet space, not that it was quiet at all. A pool game broke out between Bucky and Steve vs. Sam and Thor. Carol and Tony were going head to head in a game of darts. Wanda, Vision, and Monica were sitting on the couch. There was music and laughter and a lot of noise. You were watching Peter and Kamala set up a table to play beer pong when Pepper sat down next to you with a sigh, a glass of wine in her hand. 

“Are you playing the winner?” She asked. You shook your head. 

“I’d prefer to watch first then play,” you looked at the CEO. “I’m surprised you're over here and not cheering on Tony.” Pepper laughed. 

“He’ll be okay. I wanted to talk to you before the night got too rowdy,” you giggled. “I’m leaving for Paris tomorrow morning for a week.” Oh.  

“I’m kind of jealous,” you voiced instead of you saying that you were going to miss the CEO. “Bring me back some chocolate.” Pepper rolled her eyes. 

“Of course. Do you want me to leave you some work to do?” She asked. You nodded. 

“Yeah!” You said excitedly. “I mean if you want to leave me stuff to do.” You calmed down your excitement. Pepper smiled, standing up. 

“Behave,” you smiled. 

“Yes ma’am,” she walked away as America and Kate came over. 

“We weren’t sure what you wanted,” America said. She had a red fizzy drink in her hand and the archer’s drink looked like orange juice. 

“That’s fine. I’ll go get something,” you walked over to Natasha, who was making a drink for Yelena. The blonde took the glass and winked at you as she walked passed. You jumped onto the bar stool. “Give me your strongest liquor,” you teased. The Black Widow rolled her eyes. 

“A Shirley temple then,” you shrugged as she put a glass down and filled it with soda and red syrup, and placed some cherries on top. “So, how are you doing with all of this?” You took a sip of the drink. It was sweet and the carbonation tickled your nose. 

“Okay,” you admitted. “It was very unexpected.”

“That’s Thor for you,” you looked at the God. He was laughing at something Sam said. “He isn’t on Earth a lot but when he is he’ll always find a reason to celebrate.” You glanced at Natasha, who leaned closer to you. “He’s gone through a lot, lost a way to many people that is why he’s protective of them,” she gestured to the ‘Young Avengers’ as Carol called them. “And all of us.” You looked back at Thor, who met your eyes and raised his glass as a greeting. You smiled and waved back at him. It was so strange, having someone that just met you has a strong sense of protection for you. 

“Thanks for the drink, Nat,” you stood up and walked back to the beer pong game. You watched the game between Peter and Kamala then Peter vs Kate, the archer won by a landslide. The archer beat America and the game between her and Yelena was close but the Black Widow came up on top. You didn’t understand them. One minute you thought you had them figured it out but then you were thrown a curve ball and someone would join the group through your understanding. Still, you were jealous that they had this for so long and you knew you were a part of it now, so why were you jealous?     

*

Yelena found Y/n right away, it wasn’t hard she chose the spot to be out of the way. So she could sit back and observe what was happening around her. Yelena saw her doing it at the Bartons. She walked over to the teen, who was sipping on a Shirley temple Natasha made for her. “Are you not enjoying the party?” Yelena asked, sitting down next to her. She was drinking a mojito. 

“No I am,” the teen said. “I don’t know.” Yelena nodded. 

“You do this thing,” Yelena said, slowly not wanting to offend the girl. “You stay on the outside of any social gathering and just watch. I’m not sure if you realize you do it.” She nodded, sipping on her drink. Yelena watched her ponder what she said. 

“I guess I’m still trying to understand all of you,” she said, looking at Yelena. “I think I have you all figured out but then something like this happens then I don’t understand.” 

“What are you trying to figure out?” Yelena asked. Again she didn’t answer right away. 

“I guess,” she said, slowly. “I’m jealous.” Yelena waited for the girl to continue. “I know I’m part of this now but sometimes I wish I had this with my own family,” she looked at Yelena. “It’s just -”

“Complicated,” the teen nodded. 

“Emotions are stupid,” she mumbled, finishing her drink. Yelena chuckled. 

“Yes, they are. But they are a reminder that we are free.” The girl smiled, nodding her head. Before she could respond, America ran over to them. 

“Hey,” she said. “We are going to hang out on Peter’s floor. Do you guys want to join?” Y/n nodded. The elevator ride was a little crowded as they rode up. 

“I invited MJ and Ned,” Peter said, walking onto the floor. “Do you want to watch something while we wait for them?”

“Sure,” Kamala said, sitting down on the couch. “I’ve been off-world for a bit, catch me up on all the funny videos I’ve missed.” Y/n sat down on the floor with her back against the couch as Kate connected the phone to the TV. She pulled up Youtube and played a video of a dog riding a skateboard. Once the video stopped, she passed her phone to America. Her video of choice was a compilation of Avenger Interview moments where the team was goofing around or when they messed up. The video pulled a laugh out of the young girl. Next, it was Peter, he put on a video of pandas being clumsy around their enclosure. It continued like that, Kate’s phone being passed around the group, and a chorus of laughter followed each video. The elevator opened and MJ and Ned walked out. “Yes!” Kamala said, throwing her hands up in the air. “Let’s play truth or dare!”

_

Taglist:  @aestruvx,  @toouncreativeforausername,  @modedddd, 

#wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wandanat #wandanat x daughter #wandanat x daughter!reader #wandanat x you #wandanat x y/n #kate bishop x yelena belova #america chavez x reader #yelena belova x reader #sam wilson x reader #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #avengers x reader #lightning bug #peter park #thor #carol danvers #monica rambeau #yelena belova #tony stark #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #kamala khan #maria hill #Marvel AU #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

[neuroprincess]

Simili - Agatha Harkness/Female Reader

Summary: A series of murders start to scare the small town of Westview when young university students turn up dead on campus, soon Y/N seems to be connected to the victims somehow. Determined to find the author of these atrocities, she can trust no one, not her family, friends, and even less the local police, except the only person really willing to help her, the professor Agatha.

(slasher; psychological thriller)

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter 2: The Executioner

#agatha harkness x reader #female reader #wandavision #wanda maximoff #darcy lewis #jimmy woo #monica rambeau #agatha harkness #fanfiction #simili

[frostedfaves]

I kinda wanna start a discord server 😭 it would be a place where we could discuss fics/writing, fav characters, video games and everything else really. 18+ only of course because even if there’s no nsfw things posted there I still wanna keep minors safe and make sure everyone’s comfy there. if there are at least 15 people here (or on tumblr in general) that are interested I’ll start it up. what do we think??

update: you can join here if you haven’t already!

#avengers x reader #marvel x reader #b99 x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #kate bishop x reader #yelena belova #monica rambeau #carol danvers #rosa diaz x reader #wandanat x reader #amy santiago x reader #maria hill imagine

[lesbian-deadpool]

Monica, cleaning out the attic: Why do we have this box of doll heads?

Wanda: I guess you think it’s a coincidence that we’ve never had evil spirits in this house??

#source: modern family #incorrect marvel quotes #monica rambeau imagine #monica rambeau #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x monica rambeau #avengers imagine #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel #MCU imagine #MCU

[silver-pieces]

Marvel Girlfriend May!

Pairing: mcu!women x reader (both gn! and fem!)

Synopsis: One Marvel girlfriend for each day of the month of May!

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT READ OR INTERACT, general warnings for smut, angst, fluff, content will vary so please read the individual warnings!

A/N: I don’t know where this idea came from, but here we are!

Starting with May Parker and ending with Melinda May, I will write and post a drabble for a different marvel woman for each day.

Please feel free to tag me in your mcu!women x reader stories - even if we’ve never interacted before, I’d love to read and reblog any mcu!women x reader stories that come my way!

Divider ❊ Guidelines ❊ Masterlist ❊ Taglist

1. May Parker ~ a friendly neighbour ~ 2.1k

2. Wanda ~ you will beg ~ 4.3k

3. Sersi ~ firelight tryst ~ 405

4. Kate Bishop ~ purity curbs my tongue ~ 890

5. Maria Hill ~ sleight of hand ~ 1k

6. Claire Temple ~ tunnel of you ~ 1.4k

7. Natasha Romanoff ~ you could do better ~ 3k

8. Sarah Wilson ~ my best friend’s sister ~ 940

9. Okoye ~ these abundant skies ~ 677

10. Sif ~ bathed in light ~ 868

11. Ravonna Renslayer ~ again ~ 461

12. Jemma Simmons ~ a cute dress ~ 593

13. Misty Knight ~ onto you ~ 2.6k

14. Carol Danvers ~ divine gifts ~ 1.2k

15. Nakia ~ fresh water ~ 2.1k

16. Jessica Jones ~ burn eventually ~ 1.6k

17. Makkari ~ blue ~ 588

18. Bobbi Morse ~ who’s your daddy? ~ 493

19. Karen Page ~ kiss me? ~ 554

20. In progress

#marvel #may parker x reader #melinda may x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #valkyrie x reader #brunnhilde x reader #monica rambeau x reader #carol danvers x reader #nebula x reader #jane foster x reader #xu xialing x reader #colleen wing x reader #karen page x reader #makkari x reader #sharon carter x reader #bobbi morse x reader #daisy johnson x reader #yelena rodriguez x reader #sylvie x reader #ravonna x reader #nakia x reader #jessica jones x reader #misty knight x reader #mercedes knight x reader #jemma simmons x reader #lady sif x reader #okoye x reader #sarah wilson x reader #claire temple x reader

[evangelines-heart]

Bitches, help, so like I'm writing a book called the widow. And girl is getting no where, sooo like can my local marvel fans check it out. I'm busy with chapter 3 currently and it's going in order from all Avengers movies, and the side tracks like CATWD and CACW, even iron man 2 . - starts off with that kinda.

Might be adding characters who aren't in the Avengers movies. But from other movies. Like Thor love and thunder. Or the marvels, but all will fall within the proper plot

But yeahhh

#mcu #natasha romanoff #maria hill #blackhill #bucky barnes #marvel #wanda x reader #yelena belova #mommy wanda #vision #tony stark #captain america #captain marvel #kamala khan #monica rambeau #nick fury #sharon carter #sam wilson #bruce banner #pietro maximoff #pepper potts #morgan stark

[wmarximoff]

Hi!

For the requests, I’d like to ask you if you could write something with Wanda, fem!reader and the twins where one of them has a nightmare and his mothers comfort him. Then the next day turns into a family day full of love and funny moments!!

take a break | w. maximoff

summary: ever since you left on a mission far away, Billy has been having nightmares that have been worrying Wanda. all your family needs is for you to come home soon.

warnings: none, actually. this is just pure family fluff.

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

word count: 4k

A/N: sorry for the delay anon (this really took a long time to come out), but my classes haven't been helping much. but even with the delay, here it is! hope you like it!

|masterlist|

༺ᱬ༻

Wanda's right thumb had its cheek pressed against the long screen of her phone, in that digitized green icon found right in the center of the device's screen glass that indicated the beginning of a phone call. The name of the contact marked her wife's – there, next to it, was a small red heart emoji to distinguish her from the others, a symbolic trophy for having married her. And it was calling, the vibration of the device possible to feel through her fingers.

Wanda then lifted her forearm beneath that unbuttoned cardigan made of fine crimson wool, fitting the face of her phone against the length of her right ear. For a brief second, her upper teeth clenched and chewed the length of her rosy lower lip, in an act that served to replace the usual fidget she was used to doing with her fingers when faced with somewhat agonizing situations.

When she was younger, she'd do it with a handful of silver rings that she liked to carry around her fingers, twisting and tugging at them with her fingertips, but it had been a good few years now (certainly a decade or even little more than that) that the only adornment to be found there could only have been the thin golden band of a wedding ring, placed there by her wife, whose simple ornament was a small cut ruby gemstone that used to shimmer scarlet in the sunlight on summer days like that.

The phone, therefore, was held diagonally close to the high, sharp of Wanda's firm cheekbone, beneath a long strand of brown hair like a smooth coffee wave. And, with her hips leaning against the edge of the dark marble kitchen counter, her eyes a sizable glint of tension spreading around the jadish irises, Wanda waited.

She just waited, listening to her own breathing – the call unfolding, awaiting the reception of that person on the other end of the line whose call was directed.

She wouldn't like to say that she was restless, even a little schismatic, but it was kind of how her nerves felt as they bristled at that moment in question, being inside the tiled, pale-walled kitchen, an open window that allowed the glow of daylight from the backyard to flood the room in a golden pool of warm sunlight.

From where she stood, just a few feet away that crossed the ground floor of that domestic environment, her field of vision reached the back of the heads of the two dark-haired twin boys seated well on the living room sofa, both facing away from their mother, while on the television shined the color of some video game with wild explosions and bursts of digitized powers.

So she waited. She waited because there was nothing to do but wait; an agonized vein brandishing within the walls of her skull.

It didn't take more than seconds for the answer to come, however - even though, to Wanda's apprehensive perspective, the seconds took the form of minutes, and the minutes made up the whole of an hour, until your voice came from the phone pressed to your wife's intent ear.

“Hey, baby,” was what you said at first, to the deepest delight of your wife's spirits.

For Wanda, her heart blew out and she snorted, exhaling a limp sigh through her nose.

“Hi, honey,” had then greeted the enchantress, slowly dissipating the simple grip of her fingers against the phone, “Hi… hi. Hi malyshka. Hey.”

“Hey...?” there was an intonation of confused questioning, sort of as if you were smiling ambiguously on the other end of the line.

“Wanda, honey, is everything okay? You sound kinda... weird. Did something happen? Are the boys okay?"

“We’re okay yeah,” she sighed, the tips of her left fingers sweeping a strand of long hair behind her free ear outline, “It's just…I'm just relieved you're okay, baby.”

“Ah, my love,” you smiled small, even though so far away she didn't see it, she only felt it.

“Of course I'm fine, Wands. The mission is going well and so far I've only had to kick one colonizing alien ass, so... I consider this a victory. Hah. But I’ll be home to you and the boys soon, right? Soon, baby.”

“They miss you. And I... I miss you too, malysh...” Wanda hummed, releasing the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding in her lungs.

“I miss you too, baby,” you sighed, half apologetically, even if nonverbally doing so, “You and the boys. But I'll be right back, okay? Be right back. Just a few more days, honey. By the beginning of next week we will be back to Earth and I will be home at the first opportunity. Promise.”

“Yeah, I… I know,” she repositioned her lower back against the hard marble counter, “I'm sorry I called like that and worried you, but it's just… Billy's been having those nightmares again, and... I wish you were here, Y/n."

“You don't need to apologize for anything, Wands. You know I love talking to you. And I… I wanted to be there too,” at your words she smiled lovingly against her phone, just moving up the corner of her peach lips.

“But hey, is Billy having these nightmares again? Damn, he must be scared. He’s fine? Is Tommy okay? He tends to worry a lot about Bill at these times.”

“He's fine, both of them are. But, he... he dreamed of you, Y/n. That you were having problems with the mission. And you know he has this magical connection to the astral plane, that sometimes he sees things that no one else sees, so I... I got worried, malysh. I thought it might be real this time.”

Her voice was stung, a thread sustained by a feeling that, even on the other side of the galaxy, she knew how to say that it hurt inside your chest.

“I'm fine, Wands,” you reassured her in a tiny tone, matching hers, imbued with affection as if you were even cuddled there with her on the blandness of your own bed, whispering security words in her ear.

“I promise I'm fine. We're all fine around here. And soon I’ll return to Earth, right? Just one more week, honey.”

“Okay,” Wanda mussed in a comfortable echo, recalling the facts as if to soothe her own worries, “Just one more week.”

“I love you, my little witch. I can't wait to go home and kiss you all over that pretty face of yours."

“I love you too, Y/n,” she smiled. “Very, very much. Just be careful out there, okay?”

“I'll be careful, honey. I’ll come home in one piece for you, I promise.”

With the eventual termination of the call, there was a measly second that Wanda took to look down at the blistered ruby in the outline of the wedding ring on her left finger.

With her right thumb she stroked the crimson-cut gemstone, studying it in an affectionate gaze that mirrored the first time she'd done it so many years ago, allowing a small, chaste smile to creep into the pulp of her lips. Only one more week was the intended promise. Wanda could always wait for you for just one more week.

But it was in a wide, crackling globe, flames still tender in their avid assiduous incandescence, just around the corner of the galaxy, where you found yourself so far from Westview, New Jersey – from Jersey to the world, and from the world to the vast longitude of the universe.

A enormous structure, blazing in stubborn embers, it projected a warm orange luminescence (like a stone of carnelian) straight into the macrocosm around it – the sun was a dwarf star situated in the wilderness of planet Earth for about forty-light-years of distance between their sidereal bodies, surrounding a giant, dead carcass that floated in space without a definite purpose in its principle.

In its orbit, in front of a triad of extrasolar rocks (the carcass of a deceased and monstrous Celestial creature), a celestial body integrated along its system a rotund belt of asteroids coming from the enormities of that dead being, heterogeneous cosmic dust circulating closely, like embers sprawled across the vastness of the eternal cosmos.

However, in the midst of such malformed rocks that had come loose from the body of the Celestial being, metallic infrastructures suspended like bridges were interconnected with each other in the spaceport of Exitar, in Knowhere, in a single chain of mercantilism in the local trading post, like a copious trade point erected in the most profuse concave of outer space.

With traffic areas branching from the spaceport towards the rocky edges of the asteroids, prefabricated housing complexes were crammed into multiple open circuits; shacks made of sheet metal, establishments no less than clandestine, saturated with an immoderate frenzy of travelers from all corners of the universe.

As a former member of the Nova Corps, born and raised on the planet of Xandar, located just outside the Tranta System, in the middle of the Andromeda galaxy, your life before Wanda was adorned by intergalactic travel on behalf of the Nova Empire that had given birth to you, until the moment when one of those missions to search for an interplanetary criminal guided you to the remote planet Earth, to meet the Avengers (and, consequently, with them, that beautiful girl with the piercing emerald eyes who would one day become your future wife).

It was customary in your nature, therefore, to venture into hyperspace. But that was your past, a long time, so far from your current reality – now you were a wife and a mother. The universe around you rotated at a different rotation than the others. Your whole life was back in New Jersey.

The spaceship had been parked there for you to enjoy a drink at a bar near the spaceport by an informal invitation made by that Quill guy, the Star Lord of the Guardians of the Galaxy himself, where the bay was integrated into amidst the caliginous vastness of hyperspace.

But those who descended behind the harbor, however, where the urbanization of buildings in vivid neon flourished (city and docks were segregated by a narrow border of space dust), were that admired young girl who was Kamala Khan, the teenage superhero then named as Miss Marvel, in the company of Monica Rambeau, to which you chose to stay behind and keep an eye on the ship.

“Hey kid. What are you still doing here, Y/n?”

The voice that reached your ears was that of Carol Danvers, however, as the golden-haired Captain in a beer-colored funnel cut approached you in relaxed strides, right into the spacecraft's cockpit.

Though she had lived long enough for her age to be even comparable to your mother's, Danvers was still decorated with exalted features in her firm jaw and well-shaped brows, appearing in her physique a healthy time in her life close to yours, and may even pass for a woman of similar age to your own. No soul who glanced at her would suppose that she was already closer to sixty years of age than thirty, or even approaching the graces of being forty.

“Wanted to stay here and miss out on all the fun? I heard that Kamala’s gonna challenge Quill to a dance off.”

“And I bet she's gonna crush him. She’s got the moves.”

Your giggle was half-airy, rehearsed, which Carol didn't miss, as she sat with both her elbows on her two bent knees inside the red, blue, and gold tactical outfit she so honorably wore, in a high-chair next to the one you were sitting on. The alien city sprang up in glowing neon enormities in front of the windshield of the parked spacecraft.

“So,” muttered the Captain, always so direct in her speech, her vision interspersed with a lock of medium-length, dirty-blond hair.

“Problems at home, kid? I saw your wife called you earlier. Is everyone okay? Did something happen?"

"No... I think?" you sighed.

“I mean, yes? They're fine, I think. I don't know. It's just that I'm kinda worried, Cap... Billy's having those nightmares of his again. It happens sometimes when I spend a lot of time away, he's a really worried kid. And, well… it's been almost a month, hasn't it?”

"Billy... your little boy, right?"

“Yeah, the youngest,” and then you sort of laughed, something that prompted a good-natured hoist of a dark brow from Carol.

“I mean, they're twins, but he's the youngest. Tommy keeps reminding him of this when they argue. I try to keep my composure, but… it's funny to watch.”

There was a goofy smile, with a healthy air of nostalgia that lit up the irises in your eyes as your chest swelled into your own blue and gold tactical outfit characteristic of the Nova Corps, little by little like a balloon, of maternal, affable, love of unparalleled uniqueness – it was your children you spoke so proudly of, after all.

Your children with Wanda, a unique combination of your best and hers too. Your greatest prize to keep and treasure in life.

“Sorry, it's just that… I miss her. Them.”

“It's okay, Y/n,” Carol reassured you, giving you the tiniest smug smile, “I… I know how it is. You know, being away from your family for so long. Your wife, your kid. To be… be away from the people you love.”

And then there was a look with a meaning you had no idea how to unravel, whereupon the Captain's smile faltered into a wavering shiver, fading like a scribble on the beach's edge washed by a wave of salt water. In the crimson material that made up the upper part of her suit, her Herculean shoulders seemed to tense into her broad-shouldered muscles for a while.

"You feel like you're missing things, don't you?" there was a haggard outline in the dark gaze of the woman older than you.

“That maybe you can come back and… things are different than they were when you left. That what you left behind no longer will be what you will find when you return.”

You blinked once and Carol maintained a thread of silence that lasted for a few counted seconds, her dark eyes roaming the metallic floor of the spacecraft.

It didn't take long for your cognition to dilute the Captain's lines like a jigsaw puzzle with the pieces neatly fitted in your brain; the individual hidden in the reflection was Monica, of course, who had once seen the Captain as more of a figure than her team leader – in another life, at another time, Carol, then in an enduring relationship with her mother, had been a maternal figure to that woman who now went by the name of Photon.

The blonde took a profuse gulp of oxygen before again lifting her steady face towards you.

“We'll drop you off at home in two days, Y/n,” the other woman then said, even though she caught you off guard with the new information.

"What?!" you raised both your eyebrows to the middle of your forehead, frowning, “But we still have to go to Morag and then to Xandar! That–that’s another week of travel!”

“I'm sure Nova Prime won't mind if we delay a few days after we've managed to catch a criminal none of them have been able to catch before,” Carol half shrugged, placing a strong open palmed hand over your right shoulder.

“No need to worry, kid. You deserve to be home with your family, take a break for a while, spend time with your wife and kids. Some things... some things are not worth losing in life.”

There was a second of thoughtful silence adorned by the aluminum of the ship's interior.

“Well… thanks, Cap,” you acknowledged her with a sincere smile, as the blonde woman stood on her navy-clad knees.

“Don't worry about it,” she placed both hands at her sides, in a typical triumphant hero pose that caused a ripple of comicality in her actions.

“But how about a drink to celebrate your vacation, huh? I promise I won't tell your boss if you don't."

When you rose from the high-chair, standing before Captain Marvel in all her glory, you only laughed thinly, shaking your head playfully from side to side. It would be fun to surprise you dedicated wife a little, back on Earth.

ᗢ

The nighttime darkness was still brewing solemnly over the placid sleeping Westview when Wanda opened one eyelid and then the other, both blurred with a comfortable feeling of pure sleep. She let out a languid yawn through her soft lips, and blinked for a long time. Her right wrist wandered up to her stunned face, emerging from the den of the silk sheets, and brushed against her left eye, which throbbed with an imaginary itch.

Even with her foggy vision, she managed to catch the neon green numbers “03” and “35” that glinted on the dim face of her digital clock, placed on the headboard just beside her bed, next to a porcelain lamp.

But before she could turn across the length of the vast double bed she shared with her wife, she felt a soothing touch spread up her left thigh to the exposed skin above her navel, and a bashful nose set in between her warm locks of dark hair, close to the skin of the nape of her neck.

Your firm arms encircled her from behind, and, with melodious lips, you had placed a long kiss on the contour of her neck, in the region of its junction with her left shoulder, to which the strap of the scarlet nightgown she wore on her body had fallen.

“Y/n...?” she mussed, still a little sleepy-drunk, though soon waking up in front of her face, “Y/n, what are you…? You... you came back. You came back early...”

You smiled against the pale skin at the back of her neck, where you kissed her warmly a second time that night, inhaling the scent of her moisturizer and shampoo.

“Not as early as I expected, actually. I wanted to get back before you guys went to bed… but hey, it's late” your tiny voice rang through the room, which before was dominated by a constant silence, broken only by small cicadas in the distance.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll still be here when you wake up in the morning.”

"You will?"

Wanda purred like a sleepy cat, her heavy lids returning to her emerald eyes. Barely, and somewhat needy, she snuggled against your warm body, pulling you close, a lazy little smile playing across her wet lips.

“Of course I will, baby,” you mussed, “I'll be here for you.”

“I missed you, detka. I've missed you so much…” Wanda sighed softly, her hand going over yours in a sleepy, needy grip.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” you whispered against her ear, nestling your forehead against the fragrant back of Wanda's neck, your fingers warm over her stomach, roaming the skin present there in imaginary traces.

“I really missed you so much.”

Once again there was silence. For a brief moment, you could feel Wanda's grip a little tense against your forearm that encircled her waist.

“Wait… do you still have your tactical gear on?”

“Eh,” you snorted, “No?”

And there were a few minutes spent like that, just between the sleepy caresses exchanged between you and your wife.

Kisses and touches reciprocated at the height of dawn as in a guarantee that you, in fact, were there for her, in the comfort of your bed, when was that the bedroom door opened slightly, as if what had done was just a summer breeze that had passed through every room in the house. You lifted your head from your wife's hair to find out what was going on there, at the foot of the bed.

Tommy's tiny left fingers were screwed into the doorknob, while the little boy's right hand was bringing with it Billy's forearm, who was standing behind him. The older twin was wearing pajamas with small dinosaur figures on his torso, while the younger boy was snoring to the blandishments of a half sleep in pajamas full of racing car figures.

“Hmm, boys…?” Wanda hummed, calling out in a sleepy voice that faded into the dark.

“Mama?” Tommy called back in a groggy sleepy thin voice, his iris eyes lavishing the same hue as yours half pressed down in a newly awakened, still half asleep mood, “Billy… Billy had another bad dream—”

“Mommy!”

The younger's voice, however, was energetic as it reverberated through the room, before a smudge of racing cars darted towards you, slamming into your chest as Billy spilled the room to knock you backwards, back to length of the mattress in an avid laugh.

Tommy, then awakened by his brother's avidity, soon tried to go with a bright smile to you, who snuggled both the twin boys close to your body warm.

“My little demon spawns! Hi!” you instantly erupted, placing warm kisses on the two boys' cheeks, “Hi, my little dudes. Hi. My God, I've missed you two so much..."

Wanda poured her sleepy face towards you, and you sighed, holding a steady gaze with the other woman – and it was a look elaborated in such amenity which Wanda bestowed upon you, with so much esteem and appreciation for her green irises, that you have not been able to contain in your core the radiant sensation of a warm softness, swelling your chest in profuse benevolence.

A constricted knot formed at the bottom of your esophagus, just to the middle of your torso, and your throat constricted in an exorbitant rush of unsyllabic emotions, which constrained the pulsing organ inside your chest, just so that the latter, in turn, would expand, so that the blood running through the branch of veins in your body would radiate into a tender, warm sensation of latent love.

“When did you come back, mom?” questioned Tommy, who had his small body supplanted by your right forearm.

“Please don't take too long to come back again, mommy."

Billy begged in sequence, his little face hidden in the gap that joined your neck to your left shoulder, pressing the material of your shirt between his hands as if he didn't want to let you go anytime soon.

“We miss you,” the little boy mussed against your skin, “I dreamed that you got hurt and couldn't come home anymore… I was scared, mommy. I was so afraid you wouldn't be able to come home anymore.”

You snorted, spraying the oxygen trapped in your lungs, an explosive softness in your heart light as a feather. You didn't want him to feel that way about you; that none of them would feel that way anymore. And so you blinked, flinching for a while, when it was that your vision clouded over in an aggregation of a sudden warm feeling that ached in your chest.

But Wanda came to the boy's support, gently in a caress imbued with maternal affability as she stroked the length of his back through the comfortable fabric of his pajamas, placing a long kiss on the back of Billy's head, between the short locks of light brown hair, giving off a mild scent of children's shampoo.

“Mommy's here now, baby,” she said in a low tone, looking at you over your son's head, “She's here for us.”

“Yeah,” you smiled small, turning your head at two broken angles to so, then, kiss each boy's forehead into your arms, “I'm here with you guys now. I’m here for you. All of you.”

ᗢ

The bright innocuous hue of cyan blue lit up the high morning sky, when did Billy and Tommy, quite energetic in their bustling activities befitting two bustling rosy-cheeked children, chuckled and kicked a football at each other across the backyard to enjoy the warm summer sun.

They did right after breakfast when you urged them to do so, with no room for further disagreements – Wanda, drenched in the sun, had spread a soft blanket on the green grass for her to get well. Your wife was reading a book of classic Sokovian literature while you ran after your two children.  

Even if Tommy was just a white-shirted, green-sneakered embezzler cavorting across the grass, in nimble impulses which even amounted those who an average child would reach, you, in turn, after a long hour of kicking the ball to Billy (because Tommy wasn't much of a team sportsman himself) was just a figure lying on the sultry serenities, spread across the blanket with a swath of sunlight interspersed with your forearm, the tip of your nose pointing skyward.

You filled your chest with air, feeling a warm touch on your convex cheekbone, accompanied by a warm finger stroke. When you looked up you saw Wanda's face loaded with a small smile, sitting next to you – her brows furrowed and her eyes sweet, full of tenderness. Silently, she had smiled back at you, not showing her teeth.

“Hi, little witch.”

“Hi, detka,” Wanda whispered in a snuggled breath, tracing the perimeter of your brow arch with the soft digits of her delicate index and middle fingers.

“Your kids tired you, huh?”

“What's fighting a whole bunch of intergalactic bandits compared to playing soccer with your kids on a Sunday afternoon, right?” your voice was low and gentle, and she flowered a wry smile along her lips.

“But hey, I need to tell you something.”

“Something, huh?” Mouth dry and eyelashes fluttering as her eyes closed, Wanda made a vague sound of curiosity camouflaged beneath a limp smile.

“Yeah,” you propped yourself up on your elbows then, lifting your upper body from the checkered picnic blanket.

“I… I'm thinking of leaving the troop, Wanda. For good. I’ll be staying at home with you and the boys.”

On your wife's part, there was only a confused frown.

“But… baby, you,” she compressed her lips for half a second into a long pink line.

“All your life, you've always… you've always liked what you do, Y/n. I don't want you to give up doing what you love just to stay home watching some sitcoms and gardening with me—”

“Hey, hey,” you soothed her with a complacent smile, interspersed with sunlight as you adjusted your posture, “I want to do this, Wands."

Your left hand was splayed on Wanda's pale right knee, warmed by the blazing sun between the vault of the sky, the skin exposed by the red length of the fine summer dress your wife wore buttoned to her chest, granting there a caress to comfort her nerves.

“I really want to, you know? And I mean it. My whole life I've been going from planet to planet, fighting bad guys and getting my ass kicked, but… I think it's time for me to settle down, I guess. To spend more time with my family. With my amazing, gorgeous, perfect wife and my amazing—”

“Mama, Billy hexed the ball to keep hitting me!”

You and Wanda exchanged sunny looks for a measly second.

“Well, they’re,” you raised both your eyebrows, “Something.”

“They definitely are,” Wanda chuckled for a bit, before leaning forward to kiss your shoulder under the flannel shirt you wore open to your chest.

“But are you sure, honey? This is... a considerable change in your lifestyle. And I don't want you to give up anything for me.”

“Of course I'm sure, my love. I don't wanna miss any of this” you gestured between you and her with your right hand, “Anymore. I don't wanna be away from my family, Wanda. I wanna be here and share every moment, every experience, with them. With you, my little witch.”

You soon felt a gentle touch on the top of your cheekbone, accompanied by a warm finger stroke. Tilting your gaze to the side, you came across Wanda's face laden with a small smile – your wife's furrowed brows and sweet jadish eyes, warm as the sunbeams illuminating them. You'd smiled back at her and, in a gentle cut, with your eyes closed to just feel the moment, you bent down to capture the pulp of Wanda's lips with yours.

“Mommy!” Billy brandished from a distance, “Tommy is kicking the ball high so I can't catch it!”

“No I'm not, mom, he's lying! He's a doofus!”

“He’s lying that I'm lying, mama! And I'm not a doofus!"

"Eh," you sighed against your wife's lips, the tips of your noses brushing, your eyes so close together that her dark pupils were like two abyssal pools bordered by an emerald outline.

“Duty calls, right?”

“Didn't you say you wanted to live that life now, mommy?”

Her giggle came right after an amused eye roll from you.

"Very funny, little witch," and before you stood up, you once again stole a peck on Wanda's lips, "Very, very funny."

#wanda reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x you #billy maximoff #tommy maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch imagine #carol danvers #captain marvel #kamala khan #miss marvel #monica rambeau #elizabeth olsen x female reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader

[romanoffsbish]

Fifteen (2)

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader(Bestie)

Wanda Maximoff x Vision (Exes)

Wanda Maximoff x Carol Danvers(Wives)

Monica Rambeau x Fem!Reader(Divorced)

Misery x Fem!Reader

Sad Beautiful Tragic (MW x Taylor Swift Series)

AU—High School Reunion 🤪

Previous Half

This is a continuation, because the fic managed to reach 10k and I hadn’t even finished, so I split it up. 😳

SMUT !! 18+ !! Minors DNI

Strap use, Oral(R! Receiving/Giving(strap)), Marking.

—————————————————————

When all you wanted was to be wanted.

Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now. Back then I swore I was gonna marry her someday, but I realized some bigger dreams of mine. Abigail gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind, and we both cried.

'Cause when you're fifteen and somebody tells you they love you, you're gonna believe them.

—————————————————————

———

•~~~~~~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~~~~~~•

The summer of 2015, you remember it just as it was, a bittersweet cumulation, where fluffy dreams were crushed by brutal reality. Natasha got accepted to Stanford University, and would be leaving New York—leaving you—come early August.

Instead of letting the pain of the inevitable consume you, you chose instead to just make the time with her memorable.

—

"Sooo... My mom finally agreed to us having an unsupervised sleepover." You shout to your girlfriend mid cannon ball.

Your contorted figures burst through the chilled water, causing shivers to run across the entirety of your bodies, following along the same path of the bubbles encasing you. You popped out a second after her, and found yourself instantly pinned to the stairs by her body while you gasped for air.

"Seriously?!" She shrieks, with a set of shocked eyes, and a devious smirk underway.

"Yeah, she said something about trusting us completely, and something else about how at least the worst case scenario didn't end with me being pregnant so she could cope if need be."

"So, next weekend then?"

"Yes... Next weekend..." You conclude, with a gentle kiss to her nose and a newfound excitement settling in your heart.

"Race you to the deep end, and if I win, then I get to buy lunch." You challenged, and the redhead scoffs at your offer, before separating from you to grip at the wall.

"Not a chance you'll win..." She lowly chuckles before you both set off. 

You did win, however since you won by means of distraction she'd simply disqualified your success, and ordered the both of you a pizza to enjoy by the poolside with your group of friends that had been initially forgotten.

—

"Detka, are you sure?" Natasha shakily asks, as she stares down at your partially undressed form.

Natasha Romanoff—before you, had been known around the school to get around. Truth be told though, she was simply the product of sexist smear campaigns, started by stupid kids who'd been pissed that they'd never even made it to first base with her. She was far from traditional, but the idea of sleeping with just anyone didn't sit well with her.

For her, it needed to be spent with someone she could trust her heart with, and she'd always known that person would be you. Every thump of her heart intensified whenever you were around, as if it was somehow reliant upon you to beat. The weekend before she was scheduled to leave, her parents had taken off for a much needed getaway before sending her off, and Yelena left for Kate's the moment their car had driven off.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life Natasha..." You whispered with a cheeky grin, pulling her face to yours by her cheeks, and you both giggled into the kiss as she fell on top of you.

A weekend well spent, full of tenderness, lots of giggling, and most importantly—love.

—

The weekend blended into a week, since you'd now spent every waking moment together. Melina promised your mom that she'd take good care of you, and so she allowed the occurrence. Currently, Natasha was mindlessly scrolling through Vine's while you were sat on her bedroom floor sketching.

"Detka, whatcha working on?" She mutters, as she drops her phone, while rolling to her side, and propping herself up on her bent elbow

"That's for me to know, and you to find out." You tease, tilting your sketch pad up, while sticking your tongue out at the beauty.

"Not fair..." She grumbled, falling back against her bed in a huff, and in turn ignoring you in a failed attempt to get you to change your mind.

"Such a whiney baby, how will you survive college all the way in California?" You jest, failing to see the way her face drops at the mention, but unfortunately not how your heart breaks at the subtle reminder.

An unsettling silence fills the room as the both of you ponder what's to come within a weeks time, and you refocus your energy into your work.

"Done." You mutter, as you tap your pencil to your lips, and pull your sketchpad to your chest with a goofy smile consuming your face.

You propped yourself up on your knees, shuffling towards the bed before hovering above your lover.

"If you're done pouting, I'll gladly show you." You playfully remark, then place a kiss to her pouting lips, followed by a shriek once she swiftly traps you and your sketchbook against her bed.

"Wasn't pouting..." She grumbles, then quickly straddles your lap to take the book from you.

Her hardened features instantly soften as she runs her eyes across the intricate sketch. Cartoon figures resembling the both of you fill the page, with a multitude of scenes depicted. All from your first date, to your first kiss, with thought bubbles that somehow express your immense feelings in simple phrases. Signed beautifully by yours truly, with a phrase that breaks her heart: Forever Yours, Y/N/N

She moves the sketch out of her eye-line to look down at your nervous face. Delicately, she places the book to the side before falling against you, and burying herself in you.

"Did you like it?" Your nervous voice tickles at her ear, and she places a gentle kiss to your collarbone.

"I-I love it..." She stutters out over her sobs, and you just run your hands through her hair, massaging her scalp, and feeling as she relaxes into you. 

"I'm glad, it's yours, I'll get it framed."

Her arms tighten around your waist, and her head burrows further into your neck, as your hands continue their ministrations. The light sound of her sobs were eventually replaced by snores, and your heart simultaneously burst and cracked.

"Please, no matter where we end up, promise you'll come back for me..." You whisper against her temple, before falling asleep yourself.

—

No matter how much you pleaded with time to be kind, and to just slow down, it wouldn't. The whirlwind that was your greatest love story was nearing a place of divide.

August 5th, 2015–The day you'd lost the love of your life to Sunny California, she drove off to build her future, leaving behind the wreckage that was your heart after you'd officially given her every last piece of you. Most people love Wednesday's since it signifies the nearing end of a work week, but you only view them painfully.

Natasha truly loved you with her whole heart, and you loved her just the same, which was why you never asked her to stay, because deep down you knew she would've if you had. All she'd ever wanted was for the words to leave your mouth, for you to give her a reason to stay, but they never did. She drove off across state lines, very much aware that her heart would be left behind in New York, right in the palm of your hands.

—

That same night you fell asleep at her house, in her now empty room, with her smell that still lingered. Her family truly loved you, so they didn't even think to ask you to leave. Before passing out though, a crying Wanda had crawled into the bed next to you.

"He's not worth it darling... He lacked the necessary vi—perspective to see what was in front of him."

"Y/N/N..." She groaned.

"He's—potentially—graduating college in 2019 because he just doesn't have that 2020 .."

"You're the worst..."

"Okay, I'll stop... I'm sorry darling, but truly you dodged a bullet, nobody wants a dad named Vision. Especially not one that is a pretentious twat. It's going to be okay, I promise. Because I got you Wands, until the end of time. So, let's just get some sleep..."

Vision had promised her he'd love her forever, you had even started to believe him, but he decided that the 'bangable college girls' were more alluring than his girlfriend who'd still be in high school for another two years. The supposed transformation you'd witnessed was all just an elaborate ruse, and you were so grateful Wanda had never given herself to him in the same way you did with Natasha. You don't regret a single part of your relationship with Natasha, the only resentment you held was for the fateful end.

"I got you too dorogoy..." She sleepily mumbles, and you smile as you feel her shuffle even closer, and in the moment you know that no matter what, you'd have Wanda, and that would always be enough.

•~~~~~~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~~~~~~•

—————————————————————

And when you're fifteen, don't forget to look before you fall.

I've found time can heal most anything, and you just might find who you're supposed to be, I didn't know who I was supposed to be at fifteen.

—————————————————————

"Y/N, are you almost ready to go? Piet's literally pacing the living room and it's honestly making me sick." Wanda shouts up to you from your living room, and you just continue to glare at your reflection.

It's been five years since you'd seen most of these people, so you're not entirely sure why you're so nervous or why you're so hard pressed on impressing them. No matter how much you partake in self loathing, deep down you really are proud of yourself.

You've made a name for yourself, and are successful enough to live lavishly, but you remain humble in your two bedroom home. You spend your free time walking your elderly neighbors dogs for them, to which they reward you with enriching conversations and bowls of lukewarm porridge. Mr. Mittens—asshole that he is, is truly the light of your life. He's a great help when it comes to keeping the kittens you foster in line, and you treat him well with gourmet cans of various fish.

Losing Monica—your wife, had been rather difficult. It wasn't because the marriage was working, no, it was because she'd been one of your best friends first, and then she betrayed you in the worst way by cheating with your assistant. Humiliating you in front of your employees, and ripping the last bit of trust you had in love away from you. Being single for the last two years had given you time to find yourself though, and you became comfortable with being alone.

"Wands, I don't think I'm gonna make it." You shout back, groaning as soon as you heard the hurried footsteps ascending your staircase.

"Don't be stupid!" She exasperatedly states as she throws your bedroom doors open, and flops back onto your bed.

"I'm not facing the entirety of our graduating class without you. What if Vision comes with his brother Tony? I'd honestly die..."

"Wanda, you're literally married to a gorgeous woman, you have a brilliant set of two year olds, and you run a well known business that you built from the ground up. Last I heard, Vis is still as single as ever, because even his trust fund couldn't make the asshole desirable."

"That we built you mean, you're my partner in crime, stop selling yourself short."

Her sudden gasp nearly topples you over as you were on your tippy toes trying to reach a pair of flats.

"Oh my gosh! What if Natasha comes with Yelena?! Y/N/N! This could be your chance."

You'd honestly considered the possibility, even allowed yourself a moment of foolish hope; then swiftly refused to get your hopes up that she'd be there, let alone that she'd be single and still want you.

"Wands, let's not start believing in fairytale's."

"That's the difference between us Y/N/N, I never really stopped, and good thing because believing in them led me to Carol."

"Yeah, your story is rather magical." You lightly chuckle, while painfully searching through your closet for something worthy of the reunion.

"I know... Now, let's find you something worth Natasha's time." Wanda claps her hands, then shoves you away from your closet to take over.

"I'm sure she has better things to do than show up to her little sisters five year high school reunion, who even celebrates five years?"

"Kate Belova does, even more reason to believe Natasha will be there..."

"I still can't believe Yelena and Kate really just switched last names when they got married." You giggle, and Wanda sends a mom glare your way for deflecting, and you shiver at the sight.

"She's probably out on a date with her partner, or helping her kids with their school work."

"You've just imagined a full life for her then?"

"Of course, all I ever wanted was for her to be happy Wands, and I would never dream misery for her in an attempt to ease my own."

"Oh Y/N/N... I'll wish it for you then, that girl absolutely destroyed you, and it's only fair she be as miserable..."

"Yes, but only in the best way possible. She loved me so well that I couldn't fathom anyone else doing it better. There's no resentment for the redhead in my heart Wands, so please let yours go."

"Fine... Promise me this though, if she's there don't just let her slip away if you have a chance. I just want you to be happy dorogoy, it's been far too long since you last smiled genuinely."

"Promise." You exaggeratedly sigh, then link your pinky with hers before shoving her out so you can change into her decided upon fit.

"You act like I've never seen you naked before... Whatever though, I'll respect your boundaries, but you only got ten minutes!" She shouts through the door, you simply roll your eyes and change into the selected upon suit.

——

Natasha stood by the punch bowl, with a couple flasks of vodka in hand to slip in. Groaning outwardly as she wonders why exactly she'd agreed to come here in the first place. She knew it was because of the rare chance that she'd get to see you walk through those doors, but as the minutes passed on her anxiety continues to peak.

"Sestra, Kate's not watching, do it now." Yelena whispered as she had her back to her sister, slightly shielding her, and Nat immediately dumped the contents into the punch.

"Just like your Senior year prom." Yelena chuckles, as she helps her sister clean up any spillage.

Natasha smiles as she remembers the prom fondly, having had the luxury of bringing you along; even if you were just a sophomore, they thankfully allowed plus one tickets for underclassmen.

•~~~~~~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~~~~~~•

"Natasha did you get her a corsage?" Melina asks, as she helps straighten out the suit her daughter had selected.

"I-I, mom, you know I'm not traditional."

"Nonsense! What color is her dress?"

"Green." Natasha states with a smile, remembering the way you had told her that her eyes had inspired the dress.

"Okay, pick between these." She mutters, laying out orange, white, and purple."

"Mom, what the—."

"They contrast well with green, do not doubt me Natasha..."

Natasha simply nodded, and decided the white would reflect well with the deep, forest green dress you'd selected. Plus, her suit was white, so it would be another way to tie you two together.

As the time ticked on, she'd become increasingly worried you wouldn't make it down her stairs, then suddenly Yelena came running down with her clarinet in hand. Before Natasha could even question it, Yelena began to play the 'Here comes the bride' tune as you began to make your way down. She expertly side stepped to avoid the slap from her sister, but she definitely winced at the glares sent her way.

Melina had glared her way as well, planning a future admonishment, but she was entirely too focused on getting photos of you.

"Detka, you look, jeez, you look—."

"Jesus, Natasha, we all know you're gay but come on, you're already running late." Yelena grumbles, and this time her mother successfully delivers the slap to her head.

"Sidet!" She commands, and points to the couch, and the shit stirrer walks away.

You lightly giggle at the dysfunction, then lock your eyes with Natasha's, and give her your full attention.

"You look beyond beautiful detka..." She dreamily breathes out, then she raises the corsage up, and you lift your hand for her.

"Thank you darling, you look rather dapper yourself..." You relay, and your heart clenches at the sight of her widened smile.

Melina cleared her throat, then instructed the both of you to face her for a photoshoot. Natasha wrapped her arms around you from behind, and the two of you took about three good photos before becoming goofballs.

The dance was honestly full of idiots, who were either twerking all over one another, or eating each other's faces. Natasha refused to partake, instead she used her years of dance experience, and her iPod touch to make it far more memorable.

There was an outside patio for anyone who'd felt like they just needed to cool down; after utilizing the photo booth, and drinking some spiked punch, she pulled your unsuspecting form outside. She placed her suit jacket over your shoulders to protect you from the New York chill, then found an unoccupied corner. 

"Natty, what are you doing?"

"Well, I plan to dance the night away with the love of my life, sound good?"

"Yeah, but why are we outside?"

Smirking your way, she settles a hand on your waist, then presses play on the selected song: She Keeps me Warm — Mary Lambert.

"Too stuffy inside, I just want you..." She whispers, sliding her hand to your lower back, then placing her other hand on your upper back, and gently sways you.

You don't question it, rather enjoying the intimacy that the twinkling lights, and the lack of sweaty bodies surrounding you afforded you.

"I'll name both of your eyes, forever and please don't go..." You quietly sing along, and the double meaning isn't lost on your girlfriend as she pulls you closer.

Natasha's selected playlist is a medley of love songs from across the ages, and she loves the way that you also appreciate the classics alongside the new age. She spins you out, and lets go of your hand, then smirks at you as the next lyrics sung out.

"Take my hand..."

With a playful roll of your eyes you do as she says, then lay your head against her shoulder as she continues to sing to you in her melodic voice.

"Take my whole life too. For I can't help falling in love with you."

She pulls back slightly, lifting your face to meet her gaze, as she sings directly to you.

"Like a river flows, surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes, Some things are meant to be..."

Then she pulls you in for a tender kiss, slowly moving her lips against yours, as she just cherishes the the way you feel against her.

"I can't help falling in love with you..." She mumbles against your lips, then buries her face into the crook of your neck for the remainder of your time outside.

When time to announce the prom royalty rolls around, she scoffs, then drags you off to her car instead. You watch her in amusement as she takes prom night, and makes it uniquely her own. Natasha finishes the night with you at a diner, sharing a Neapolitan shake, and a plate of fries with you. She smiles in pure adoration as she watches you dip your fry into the shake, and thinks about how much she doesn't want this to end.

The night does end though, and it was perfect. Natasha traced her fingers soothingly down your face, as your breaths finally evened out. Delicately, she'd kissed your lips, giggling to herself as you tried to reciprocate in your sleep. Exhaustion attempted to consume her as she cuddled into you, but she fought it as best she could. For a fleeting moment she was able to just admire all of your features. She sighed once she fully settled into sleeping bag; sleeping on the living room floor was a small price to pay if it meant she could do it with you in her arms.

•~~~~~~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~~~~~~•

"Let's just hope the girl shows this time..." She humorlessly laughs, as a silent tear falls, and she discreetly wipes it away.

"Oh, she will. Wanda Maximoff RSVP'd for the both of them, and that girl doesn't commit to things lightly, she'll have her here.." Yelena reassures her, with a firm squeeze to her shoulder before leaving her once more.

Natasha pours herself a glass of vodka infused punch, then she downs it within a second before pouring out another and heading off to a corner for brooding.

—————————————————————

Your very first day

Take a deep breath, girl

Take a deep breath as you walk through the doors...

—————————————————————

The car ride isn't long, but it feels like hours as you sit in the passenger seat and wonder what you'll find behind those doors.

"It's not fair, I was here first, why does Y/N/N get the front seat..." Pietro whines, 'accidentally' kicking at the back of your seat.

"Because Piet, I'm Wanda's favorite." You snark, then move the seat back even farther, as you suddenly needed ample amounts of room to fit your ego.

"Because, our dear little Y/N here needs to stay in pristine condition in case Natasha is there, and the backseat would just wrinkle her suit." Wanda relays, taking a really sharp right, and chuckling at your collective grumbles.

"You'd think having kids would've made you a better driver." You shriek, while Pietro feigns illness in the backseat.

"You didn't die though." She quips, as she finally pulls into your destination, then turns to both of you with a devious smirk as she parks.

"Let's go!!!" She shouts eagerly with a clap to her hands, and you both reluctantly follow her.

Pietro runs ahead as soon as he catches sight of his old track buddies—Sam and Bucky, and they both wave back to you and Wanda with kind smiles before heading inside.

"Hey, I need you to breath sweets, I can't see your chest rising and falling..."

You inhale deeply, then release a long, exaggerated breath, Wanda rolls her eyes as she steps ahead and turns to face you.

"Listen to me Y/N, you deserve happiness, if she's here, and available you just need to shoot your shot. If she isn't, then maybe have a conversation to gather some closure, then be open to moving on to someone new. Stop psyching yourself out, you deserve the world, and if I had been into the brooding type maybe you and I could've given it to you."

"Gross... You did give me the world though Wands, you gave me a found family of people that love me unconditionally..."

"Stop, don't make me cry, I only brought a backup lipgloss."

....

"Just breathe, and then follow me in..."

Wanda the walks through the doors, and you stare at them closing, before taking in a shaky breath. The doors open once more, and as you force yourself to walk in the sound of your name being called sends a pang to your heart, and regret instantly washes over you.

"Y/N/N, it's been too long, I miss you..."

"Mon... How are you?" You manage to get out, swallowing thickly as you do your best to remain composed as her arms wrapped around you.

"I'm doing well, I see you changed your number, I hope that wasn't my fault..."

Of course it was...

"Where's Rogers?"

"Steve is getting us a sampler plate, but I just saw Wanda enter so I knew you wouldn't be too far behind. So I had to come see you..."

"Monica, what are your intentions here? Honestly, I'm too exhausted to play one of your back and forth games..."

"This isn't some game Y/N, I just miss my best friend, and I know I screwed up, but I'm not going to pass up the only chance I have at getting you back in my life."

"This isn't the place for this conversation, but since you started it, I'll finish it. You're right, I did change my number because of you. You broke me, had you just asked for a divorce I would've understood, I know I wasn't the wife that you deserved. But God, Mon, I was the best friend, and I know you know that. You wanted something from me that you knew deep down I couldn't give, and instead of bowing out you chose to hurt me in the cruelest way possible. To take the little faith I had left in love and crush it was beyond forgiving. I love you Mon, I always will, but I just can't trust you, and that is where we end. Go, be happy, and please don't try to contact me again." You say in a hushed tone, doing your best to not embarrass either of you in front of a room of your peers.

The obvious tension, and Monica's not so quiet sobs stifle your attempt for privacy. So, with shaky hands, and unshed tears hanging in your lashes you walked away from the crying woman, and approached the refreshments.  The ladle was shaking as you tried to pour the punch into your glass, but a soft hand hovered over yours in an attempt to steady it.

"Wands, I'm okay, go have fun..." You shakily whisper, as a tear betrays you and falls on her hovering hand.

"Long time no see, pretty eyes... I thought I had told you, lying isn't very ladylike..."

She caught the ladle before it could splash the punch all over the place, and then she gently gripped your arm to drag you somewhere more private. Natasha took you down a hallway, pushing you into a vacant closet, and then once behind the door she pulled you into her strong arms.

"Let it all out detka, I'm right here..."

Your legs almost instantly gave out, so your hands gripped tightly to her shirt. Natasha immediately lowered the both of you to the floor, leaning against a wall, as she just held you close. You buried your face against her in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

"I'm not going anywhere sweetheart, I got you." She coos, as she lightly rocks you, and rubs comforting circles into your back.

After a few minutes your sobs had dwindled into the sparsest of tears, and sporadic hiccups, then almost instantly the embarrassment flushes through your body at the predicament you find yourself in.

"God, I'm so sorry Natasha... This is just pathetic, you should go back to the party..." You bitterly chuckle, attempting to pull out of her lap, but she pulls you right back in.

"Hey, nothing about you is pathetic... I meant it, I'm not leaving you, I'm only here for you." She whispers, while cupping at your cheeks and it's then that you see her equally glassy eyes filling you with immediate guilt.

"Oh, please don't cry..." You mutter, as you then rotate to kneel in front of her, and gently wipe away at the falling tears.

Natasha gently smiles at you, before kissing your palms, then while feeling rather bold you surged forward and connected your lips with hers. Her arms immediately wrapped around your waist as you moved to straddle her so that she could pull you that much closer.

"God, I missed these lips so much..."

She whispers against your parted lips.

"... and these pretty eyes, that just sparkle..."

She continues, while wiping the residual tears,

"... oh and this face, it's such a beautiful one..." and her fingers tenderly traced your cheeks.

"Most importantly though, I missed the entirety of you, my heart ached without you. There's not much I regret in my life Y/N/N, but leaving you is definitely at the top of my list."

"Hey, no... You had to go, I couldn't be the reason you gave up your dreams Natty."

"Well, let me tell you, I've gotten that little folded paper with my name on it—twice, and I've never felt more alive than I do right here and now." She humorlessly laughs out, as her hands find a new resting place on your hips.

"You're the only part of my dream worth pursuing, the missing piece..." She mutters with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe her.

"When I saw you got married, my heart had split in two, I nearly flunked out my final year of my undergrad because I was so distraught. I'd always expected it, because of course someone would come through and scoop you up. Somehow, I pulled it together though, and graduated. Then I decided to further my education and go for my masters, but literally right after I started I found out Monica just moved on. I was honestly confused, because who would willingly give up forever with you, I knew I was an idiot when I drove away. Judging by the conversation I just witnessed though, I'm guessing it wasn't amicable."

"Well, when you left I was very distraught myself, I did my best to move on, but it never really worked out. Monica was my close friend first, so the switch in intimacy after high school wasn't too hard, but in the end it couldn't work. She wasn't you, and over time I just couldn't fake it anymore. Instead of just ending things though, she chose to completely destroy me. Cheating on me with my assistant, and doing so in my own office. There's no way it wasn't deliberate, it's like she wanted to punish me for not being able to love her how she wanted, well I guess deserved is the better word for it. She truly deserved better, but in the end so did I. Honestly, I'd sworn love off, having accepted that I'd only ever get the one great one. You were truly my greatest love story Natasha..."

"Were?" She asks, with her bottom lip caught between her teeth to contain the trembling.

"I'm a bit of a basket case Nat, are you sure you really want to pursue this?"

"Y/N, I just told you how much I need you, please don't make me beg..."

"Seeing you beg sounds kinda hot though..." You lustily whispered, while intentionally adjusting yourself in her lap, and smirking as she tightly gripped your hips to still you.

"Oh, detka, you're playing a dangerous game..."

"Good thing I live for danger then..."

Natasha quite literally tackled you onto the hardwood floors, hand behind your head to offer only the slightest protection. Your grunt of pain was muffled as her lips smashed to yours, tongue swiping across your bottom lip in search of permission that you'd immediately granted. A moan flew from your throat as her hands felt you up over your clothes, and her tongue glided across your own.

Instantly the taste of the punch and vodka transcends across your tastebuds, and you freeze. Your inhibitions are low, but eventually you manage to pull away from her lips once her hand begins to unbutton your undershirt.

"Natty, stop, you've been drinking..."

"Oh, sweet girl, always so considerate... Yelena and I might've spiked the punch, so I had maybe a shot, and I'm Russian so really it was just spicy water... I'll obviously stop if you want, but just know that you're not taking advantage of me..."

"Really?"

"Yes moya lyubov', I would honestly wait forever for you..."

With the tendernesses in her eyes, and the clarity on her sobriety, you pull her back in, slightly rolling your hips into hers and gasping at the unexpected bulge.

"Oh, yeah... I was really optimistic.." She chuckles against your lips, then reluctantly she pulls back to work on removing your pesky suit.

Her mouth falls open at the sight of your glistening core, and even though she wants to cherish every inch of you right now, she's aware that there's an invisible time limit in place. So, she pulls her pants down, then watches as your eyes darken once the strap springs out of her boxers, and she drops to straddle you once more.

"You're already dripping, you think you can handle me sweetheart?" She rasps into your ear, and you nod vigorously.

"Words detka..."

"Yes.. I'm so ready... Please fill me up..."

Natasha runs her fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal and spreading it over the strap, then bringing the excess up to her lips she sucks her fingers in to get a taste. She moans around her fingers, then moves to line her toy up with your entrance.

"Fuck..." She lowly gasps at how easily she slides in, and her lips meet yours for a sweet kiss, and her hips moved against yours at a painfully slow pace, reaching deep within you, but never with enough friction to really get you anywhere but desperate.

Once she had you squirming, and felt you whining into her mouth, she just couldn't hold back anymore. Tightly gripping at your hips to steady herself, she moved into a far more brutal pace, and began to trail her lips down until she had your nipple in her mouth. Your legs wrapped around her, pushing her even deeper into you, and simultaneously causing it to rub against Natasha's clit. The new angle caused the coil in Natasha’s abdomen to tighten as her own high quickly approached.

Natasha’s grunts, your muffled moans, and the sloshing sounds coming from your dripping cunt were truly a beautiful medley. Making up for lost time had honestly never felt so good, and neither of you truly wanted it to end.

Natasha could tell you were close though, as your choppy moans were now filling the tiny space around the both of you. Your ability to contain them any longer obviously lost in your dizzy state. She detached her lips from your breasts, smirking widely as she peered down at the marks she'd just left behind.

She suddenly pulled out, and aggressively slammed back into you at a different angle, hitting the furthest depths of you and causing you to scream out in pleasure. Quickly, she had slammed her lips to yours to stifle your moans, in an ill-fated attempt to keep passerby's from hearing in. Natasha could only hope no one had been near, but at the same she couldn’t bring herself to actually care when she had finally had you beneath her again.

Slowing her pace allowed you to really enjoy the fullness of your orgasm, and the feel of your hands kneading at her breasts had sent her tumbling into her own. Her hips stuttered against yours, and her face fell to the crook of your neck as she moved to regulate her breathing.

As she pulled out, all that she could think about was tasting you, so she quickly found her way to your dripping folds.

“Shhh, I’m just going to clean you up detka, I know you’re sensitive my sweet girl…” She coo’d against your folds, and you attempted to shimmy away, but her firm grip on your thighs held you in place.

Once she’d collected the totality of your arousal, she placed a kiss to your clit, then giggled as your body jolted. Then she worked to redress you, pulling your bottoms back on for you, but before she could do the same with your top you’d reached out to stop her. Her brows furrowed, but quickly settled as she saw you settle upon your knees, and watched as your doe eyes dropped to her strap.

Natasha watched in a lust inspired daze as you worked your mouth over her strap, faltering ever so slightly, before taking it in its entirety, as you effortlessly cleaned off your arousal. Your tears were slowly falling down your cheeks; no longer heartbreakingly so, but instead purely drawn out by pleasure, and something about the sight had Natasha’s core clenching around nothing.

Natasha groaned as your head began to bob with vigor, the sight alone had her ready to burst; your unrelenting movements successfully pushed her over the edge of bliss once more. She held firmly against the wall to keep herself upright, while working to catch her breath, which proved rather difficult as she watched as your puffed up lips released her strap with a pop, and a trail of spit mixed with spirts of your arousal followed you.

Her heart burst as she watched you pulling up her ruined boxers, and then her slacks, placing a sweet kiss to her abdomen before tenderly tucking her strap back into her boxers, then securing her pants in place. You shakily stood up, then found your naked body pressed against the door, as she pulled you in for a vulnerable kiss, that somehow conveyed anything that had remained unsaid.

"You know, this is nowhere close to how I'd envisioned this reunion, but I like to think it's perfectly us." Natasha endearingly relays, as she places soft kisses across your face.

"Funnily enough, I'd expected you to have moved onto something better, so this was a more than welcomed surprise for me."

"Oh, my angel, I've only ever wanted you, since that day I saw you and Lena playing in the backyard and then I joined in for your game of tag. I obviously didn’t know what it meant then, but when I saw you Junior year it had clicked."

"You mean when my mom dropped me off for the first time after meeting your parents?"

"Yeah, you were just so gentle, and incredibly kind. Lena scraped her knee, and I remember you'd comforted her almost instantly. Here you were, a complete stranger, and you were still just so loving. Then, Melina and I watched in awe as she actually let you hold her, because normally all Yelena wanted was for mama to tend to her. You've always been the sweetest thing, making everyone around you feel safe, and I've found over time that my heart just never beats properly when you're away."

“I love you Natasha…” You whimper out, as you try not to cry again for the umpteenth time, but fail miserably.

“Thanks… You’re pretty cool, I guess…” She teases, and you’re grateful to her for lightening the mood.

—

Natasha and you snuck off to find a bathroom in a fit of hushed giggles as to not draw attention to the closet you were clearly exiting. Once reaching the singular stalled bathroom you both got to fixing your appearances. You splashed water on your face, allowing it to cool your heated skin, before wiping off the remnants of her smeared lipstick, then fixing your destroyed hair to the best of your ability, and straightening out your suit.

Natasha watched you fixing yourself up, then as soon as you seemed content with yourself she'd pulled you into her for another sweet kiss, transferring her deep red lip onto yours.

"Natty, I just got your lipstick off..."

"I know, leave it..."

"Marking your territory already? Haven't even properly asked me out yet..."

"Oh yes, sorry, must've slipped my mind as I was just a bit busy confessing my everlasting feelings for you, then proceeding to make love to you right there on the janitors floors."

Your lips curled at the way she described your previous entanglement of bodies so tenderly, and you cheekily replied:

"All is forgiven... So go ahead, ask..."

"Y/N, will you go out with—."

"Yes!!!" You squeal, effectively cutting her off, as you smash your lips to hers.

"Oh, this is awkward, I was offering you up to Vision, heard he's still single." She winces, as you slap her arm and go to leave before she grabs your hand.

"I'm just messing around, no way I'd ever give you up again. Now, let's get back to the party before anyone notices.”

"Natty, I guarantee you they've noticed." You laugh out while exiting the restroom without her.

Once you slipped back into the event, you'd looked all over for Wanda, then your jaw clenched as you saw Vision infiltrating her space. Natasha walked in right after you, and followed your gaze to find why you'd suddenly become tense.

"Detka..."

Before she could even finish you were stomping over to save your best friend.

"Wanda, what could that woman possibly have, that I can't give you?"

"Oh buddy, a flea could offer so much more than you ever could!" You growled, while shoving his hand off her shoulder, and yanking Wanda behind you for safety.

"Oh, if it isn't little lezzy, I see you corrupted poor Wanda, but I guess you just weren't enough for her, or anyone for that matter. I heard Monica cheated on you, and I mean we all know Natasha drove across the country to get away from —."

He was cut off by a fist to the face, you felt a pain in your hand, and it's then that you realize it is you that punched him. Vision went to deck you, but before he could even rear back Natasha punched him properly, and he was out like a light.

"Go Romanoff!!!!" Tony shouts, clearly drunker than anyone else in the room, as he cheers on his brother’s downfall.

"Y/N..."

"I'm fine.."

"No, detka, you're not. We need to ice your hand."

Natasha went off to collect you some ice, and you turned to Wanda with a sad smile.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Of course I am, my best friend swooped in like a knight in shining armor and saved me. However, she had her own knight right behind her that requires explanation."

"She came back for me, apparently we're both miserable without the other." You smiled, and Wanda matched your smile before observing your hand with a frown.

"You know what he said isn't true right? Platonically speaking, you’re everything to me."

"Yeah, I know Wands..." You sigh, then wince as her fingers go over your bruised knuckles.

“Plus, we’d be too powerful as a couple.” You state, and the both of you giggle at the thought.

Natasha came running over in a panic with a bucket of ice, and ace bandages that you’d wondered where she found them, then the women worked together to help you.

—

While the women tended to Y/N's  hand, Yelena watched from a hidden corner, with freshly buttered popcorn in her lap, and a mischievous smile.

"Sweetheart, where'd you get popcorn?"

"Jesus, Kate Belova, you can't sneak up on me like that..."

"My sincerest apologies Yelena Bishop." She condescends, before moving to ask her about her current suspicions.

"So, was this the plan all along? Matchmaking, and then shit stirring?"

"Da."

"Makes sense then why you asked to be in charge of the invites, and why only a select few were actually sent."

"My beautiful wife, you should know better than to trust me, so really, this is your fault."

"Is not!"

"Your name was on the invitations."

"Now Y/N's going to be mad at me."

"Y/N is a puppy dog who just got the love of her life back, she won't even think to be mad."

Kate sighs, but then Yelena continues.

"Now, Natasha, she will be furious, but don't worry dorogoy, I'll protect you." Yelena says, then laughs boisterously, and the hide out is quickly exposed.

"Yeah, well the couch is calling your name, so enjoy your sleep, I'm sure Fanny will keep you warm."

——

As you enter your house you toss your keys into the dish, then used your good hand to pet Mr. Mittens, and he tilted his head in bewilderment as he took in your bandaged hand.

"You spend too much time with Wanda..."

He audibly huffs, then his gaze swiftly looks passed you, and then you hear the scuffling of wheels, and the door lightly closing.

"Your place is cute." She comments, as she wraps her arms around you from behind, and settles her head on your shoulder then extends one hand out to your calico.

Mr. Mittens sniffs her hand cautiously, then nudges his head under her hand, and you nearly choke at the sight.

"It could be ours if you'd like, I don't want to push you, but I also don't want to just start over with you either..." You lowly mumble, confidence having faded almost instantly.

"Plus, Mr. Mittens loves you, and that's rare."

"Well, let's see..." She ponders the invitation, while rotating you in her arms.

"I literally gave my life in California up just on a whim in the hopes of finding you, then just today: I've knocked someone out for you, confessed my feelings, and I even stripped you down in a janitors closet. Nothing about what I've done indicates plans to start over."

…

"So, if you'll have me, then I'm yours."

"Welcome home then darling..." You beam, and smile as Natasha lifts you by your thighs and carries you to the couch, then she falls back with you on top of her.

"Hey Alexa, play my greatest hit playlist." You shout, and a gentle tune starts to play, as you cuddle into the love of your life.

Natasha watches intently as you fall asleep almost instantly, observing the slightest of differences in your appearance since she'd last held you seven years ago. Your face had slimmed ever so slightly, you stopped dyeing the ends of your hair, and you've definitely gained a few beauty marks while living under the sun. Somehow you'd managed to get even more beautiful, and she believes that should be a crime.

Regardless of the changes though, she's just grateful to have you back in her arms, where you’ve always belonged. 

"I came back for you detka, just like you'd asked..." She whispers, then pulls a blanket over you from atop the couch, and falls into a blissful sleep.

—————

7,738 Words

Taglist:

@beenicejoy @d14n4ol

I chose not to write their first time together because they were minors in that portion of the storyline so really I felt the allusion to it was just more kosher.

So, in an attempt not to rob anyone, I gave you their “brief” closeted 🥁 reunion 😂

The elongated smutty portion is truly what made this so late 😳

Also, not that this specific age gap would offend anyone, but Y/N and Natasha are more like 1.5 years apart since she's a December baby and got to start school before turning five.

It took longer than a couple hours because I got distracted and also ya girl had to get ready for work lol (Graveyard shifter)

The distraction — I got these cute hangers of sorts on Etsy and they arrived when I was writing.

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #monica rambeau #wanda maximoff #vision #yelena belova #kate bishop #natasha romanoff smut

[captainmarvel4ever]

ONLY 127 DAYS TIL WE SEE THE GOATS ON SCREEN

THE MARVELS OUT NOVEMBER 10TH

#the marvels #captain marvel #peter b parker x reader #kamala khan #monica rambeau #marvel x reader #marvel #wanda maximoff #the marvels movie