#Romanoffomixam

[ginnsbaker]

Before reading your series I was completely on the side of if someone cheats that’s a done deal of ending the relationship however even though I still think that I feel like I would maybe I wouldn’t be so fast to make a judgment. Idk you have me so damn confused because I feel like maybe I feel like this because I like the characters or maybe I’ve actually had a change of heart. Idk you confusing me and I don’t wike it. hah but in all seriousness this is an amazing work of art and I honestly think if you changed the names (for legal reasons) you could have a best seller. This is great pal!

Hiiiiii 👋

I think one of the best compliments ever is hearing you take a double take at cheating and what it means for you... Personally, I went through the same reflection. Before ILGOSS i kept telling my partner of 5 years that im gonna leave her if she ever cheats on me, but like, one night i was watching her sleep and thinking about how much i love her and wondered if i really will leave her right away if she does.

Some might think it's easy to forgive wanda because we are biased to the character and lizzie olsen's perfect face, but i dunno. I try to switch reader and wanda and i still came up with the same ending.

Sorry if you got confused about how you feel towards cheating now, but at the end of the day, cheating really ruins lives and it's best we avoid it at all cost.

Thank you for reading and enjoying ilgoss. Not sure how it would fare if like, i change the names and make them into my own character, i just dont feel like it's very original? I mean, i dont think anyone else hasnt tackled divorce and cheating because it's such a common theme in drama. I just wrote this for my own enjoyment and now for you guys as well. But thank you if you think that :)

Again thank you for sending this ask and reading the story. You take care :)

[dirtyvulture]

R:

:)

Darkest Knight

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Mutant!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You meet a pretty woman in a bar...

AN: Came up with a new idea, let me know if you all like it. 👀

Natasha shivers when the door opens behind her, wrapping herself tighter in the thin jacket jacket that is not meant to be worn during the winter. Although she’s sitting in the corner, trying to make herself as invisible as possible, the icy wind stabs at her back and it practically takes her breath away. Her whole body aches from a lack of sleep and food, although so far the bartender had only been generous enough to give her a single glass of water.

It’s almost 9:00pm, evident by the pitch-black gloom outside the windows stained with dirt and snow. Natasha doesn’t know what time the restaurant closes, but she has no way of leaving it safely, having used the last of her energy to stumble here through the surrounding woods on foot. The next city over was probably at least 25 miles away. She closes her eyes, overwhelmed and despondent, reaching for her water glass with trembling fingers. 

A lot of luck had gotten her this far, more so than her own skills, but she feared tonight would be when it finally ran out.   

Someone drops noisily onto a barstool three seats away from her. “I’ll have a beer.”

Natasha looks over warily at the person joining her. You’re wearing a leather jacket over a flannel shirt that is only buttoned halfway up, and Natasha feels colder just looking at you. You puff on a cigar as you pull out a few folded bills and toss them on the counter. The smell of smoke causes her to cringe away in distaste and she notices you immediately take the cigar out of your mouth and stamp it out on the counter.

The bartender comes over, frowning at the new ashy ring on his wood countertop. 

“Add it to my bill,” you grunt, pushing the money towards him and swapping them for a bottle. After you take a sip, you glance over at Natasha for a second, turning to face ahead and watch the television behind the bar. 

Natasha drinks her water, wondering if she has the dexterity to steal from the tip jar when she can’t even feel her fingers. She had seen how much cash you had in your pocket–at least another $50–maybe if she played you up a little you’d buy her dinner. You were the only one in the restaurant who hadn’t eyed her like a meal, and Natasha knows you only put your cigar out for her. She has to put her plans on hold, however, when she hears heavy footsteps pad up from behind her. Someone taps on her shoulder.

“Hey, honey,” a gruff voice mumbles. 

She doesn’t turn to look at him, but from the corner of her eye sees that it’s the big bald man who had been watching her from a booth since the moment she entered the restaurant. 

“You came here alone, didn’t you?” the man asks. “You walked here.”

Natasha doesn’t respond. She notices your attention has moved from the television to the man standing behind her. 

“Let me give you a ride home,” the man says, his voice heavy with unsaid intentions. 

“No, thank you,” she says. 

The man leans in closer to her until his alcohol-laced breath is hot against her ear. “It wasn’t an offer, honey.”

“She said no,” you growl. Both Natasha and the man looked surprised at your intervention. 

“Fuck off,” the man spits. “You’re always taking girls home, let me have this one.”

You roll your eyes at his comment. Natasha looks at you with trepidation now as you get up, your footsteps somehow heavier than the man’s despite being shorter than him.

“Go home, Stu,” you tell him. “Alone.”

“Not tonight,” he spits, grabbing onto Natasha’s arm. Normally, she would never allow herself to be handled like this and would have broken Stu’s nose on the counter by now, but that’s a fight she didn’t know she could win in her current state. She tries squirming out of his iron grip but is dragged off the barstool instead. No one sees you lunge forward, cranking your arm back and punching Stu in the face. Natasha cringes when she hears what sounds like clanging metal and pushes away from Stu as he falls to his knees, crying and screaming while clutching his face.

“Are you okay?” 

Natasha looks up and sees you offering her a hand. She grabs it, your palm rough but warm, and hops over Stu to stand next to you. She’s shocked to see that the lower half of his face is completely drenched in blood from his broken nose. 

“You motherfucker!” Stu gasps, struggling to his feet.

“Stay down,” you suggest. “We should probably leave,” you tell Natasha, and against her better judgment, she eagerly follows you outside even after witnessing you take down a full-grown man with a single punch. 

The wind is prickly against her skin and the cold weighs down her bones. Snow falls in hard pellets and Natasha lifts her arms over her face to protect it.  

“My truck is over here!” you shout over the wind and Natasha numbly chases after you. It’s a beat-up red pickup truck that has certainly seen better days, but Natasha gives no comment as she climbs in and you turn on the heater, blasting her with warmth. “Sorry about Stu. I’ve never known him not to be an asshole,” you say, adjusting the vents in Natasha’s direction.

“Thank you,” she blurts out.

“Oh. Uh, you’re welcome.” You sound like you’re not used to being thanked. You turn the windshield wipers on to clear off the snow collected there. “I know Stu was right about one thing, though. You’re not from around here.��

“No,” Natasha admits. “Do you know if there’s a motel nearby I can stay in?”

“The closest one is thirty miles out,” you say. “But we’d be lucky to move even five with the snow picking up.” The windshield is almost fully caked in a layer of white again. “My place is only two miles from here. You can crash for the night and I’ll take you up to the city first thing tomorrow when the weather clears.”

Natasha wants to tear up at your generosity. She hasn’t known you for more than five minutes, and you’ve already rescued her from a creep and offered her a place to stay. Maybe her good luck is hanging on longer than she’d thought. 

“I’d like that,” she says, and you nod, revving up the engine and driving out of the parking lot. The drive is completely silent but in a comforting way. Although you’re focused on the road, you only have one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift in a very relaxed, almost casual way. Natasha stares at your hands, curious as to why she can’t see any bruising on your knuckles from when you practically turned Stu’s face inside-out. You seem to notice her staring because you suddenly clear your throat and adjust your position, moving both your hands to the 5 and 7 o’clock positions of the steering wheel.

True to your word, your cabin is relatively close to the restaurant, although the drive feels longer to Natasha because you can’t go faster than 15mph. You park on the driveway, hurrying out before Natasha can even unbuckle her seatbelt to have her door open for her.

“Thank you,” she says, although reluctant to step back out into the cold. 

“Go through the front door,” you tell her, handing her your house key. “I need to get some firewood from the garage first.”

Natasha darts to your porch, fumbling with the key frustratingly before she can get the door open. She stumbles into your home, stamping snow off her shoes. She finds the light switch, flipping it on and surprised to see how barren your house is. There’s a couch, a television, and a potbelly stove in the first room, and an opening to the kitchen on the left and your bedroom ahead. There’s not even a shelf of books or knick knacks as far as she can see.  

“Sorry about the mess,” you grumble as you come in behind her, carrying an armload of splintered wood. “I wasn’t anticipating any visitors tonight.”

“It’s cozy,” Natasha comments as you throw a few pieces of wood into the stove and light some tinder underneath. 

“The bathroom is through the bedroom if you need it,” you say. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Oh, wait, you don’t have to do that,” Natasha starts. “I’m your guest–”

“Don’t worry about it.” You wave her off. Natasha doesn’t know how to respond to your unending kindness. Sometimes, she forgets that good still exists in the world after all the evil she’s been running from. “I’ll heat up some soup. I hope you’re okay with ham and potato.”

“Thank you,” is all she can manage.

“Go ahead and wash up. I’ll need some time to warm up the soup. Use whatever you need. There’s a clean towel and some clothes on the left side of my closet that might fit you. They belonged to…an old friend.” Natasha hears the wistfulness in your voice, her curiosity piqued. But she doesn’t pry and goes into your bedroom, closing the door. She finds the clothes and a folded up towel that you mentioned, so she carries them all into the bathroom.  

The hot water has never felt so wonderful as Natasha washes off the grimes from several days’ of traveling. But she enjoys it for too long and soon, the water runs cold. Motivated to step out, she dresses in the clothes you provided, glad for the wool that keeps her insulated and toasty. She joins you in the kitchen, where you’re ladling soup into two chipped bowls on the table.

“Feel better?” you ask her. You’ve taken off your leather jacket now, your checkered flannel fully hanging open over a white tank top. Natasha has no idea how you’re able to withstand the cold in the cabin, although the fire from the potbelly stove has made the temperature much more tolerable. In one less layer of clothing, she can see the muscles in your chest and shoulders, which certainly explained where your powerful punch came from. You have a beaded chain around your neck holding a pair of dog tags. While Natasha is still not sure what to think of you, she has a better idea now. 

“I feel amazing,” she says, “Although I think I used up all the hot water–”

“It’s fine. Do you want a beer?”

“No, thank you. Water is fine.”

“Sure.” You pour her a glass from a pitcher in the fridge and grab a beer for yourself. She waits for you to sit with her before dipping her spoon into her bowl. The soup warms her up from the inside and before she realizes it, her bowl is empty before you’ve even had a few spoonfuls. Her cheeks heat up as you fill her bowl without being prompted. 

“Thanks,” she murmurs and once again you only grunt in response. After you finish your soup, you don’t refill it, instead sitting back and sipping your beer. Neither of you talk, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. Natasha finishes her third bowl, scraping every drop onto her spoon, before her curiosity finally wins. 

“Can I ask why you’re being so nice to me?” she asks. 

You stare at her as if she’s just asked for your answer to a complex math equation. There’s a few seconds of pause before you respond. “Because you’re someone who doesn’t ask for help, even if you really need it.”

Your answer has Natasha even more confused.

“You remind me of myself,” you add, as if this is enough clarification. When you talk, your voice is low and gruff, almost like you’re not used to having someone listen to you. From the furnishings in your home, or lack of them, it’s clear you live alone and probably have for a while. With the closest settlement 30 miles away, Natasha is surprised you haven’t set up further out. Whatever life you had lived, it seemed like you just wanted to retire in peace, despite that you didn’t look older than 30 years. 

“I can’t thank you enough,” she says. “After tonight, you can drop me off in town and I’ll be out of your way.”

“You’re not a burden,” you reply. 

“And I’m not trying to be.” Natasha takes her bowl to the sink to wash it, but you stop her.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean up in the morning. You should get some rest.”

“Come on, let me do at least one nice thing for you,” Natasha begs.

“Hmm,” you mumble, your face twisting as you appear to think hard about her request. “How about you let me use the cold water in the bathroom to wash up, and then the bedroom is all yours?”

“Deal.” 

But while you’re in the bathroom, Natasha sneaks back into the kitchen and washes the dishes. She can’t help herself; it just feels wrong to take advantage of your hospitality without giving you anything in return. She leaves the dishes to dry on the counter, then guiltily hunts around the remaining rooms for any further insight into your life before you get out of the shower.

In one of the kitchen drawers, she finds a small pocket knife that when folded, can be concealed perfectly in the palm of her hand. She had lost her own knife running through the forest earlier that day, and even though she can’t imagine having to use it against you, it makes her feel better to have a blade on her. She pockets it, hoping you won’t miss it, and keeps looking. But there is nothing to find: no receipts, no tags, not even a handwritten sticky note to yourself.

Natasha jolts when she realizes she hasn’t even asked your name yet. 

You emerge from your bedroom, your hair flattened by the water, a towel slung around your neck. “Bedroom is all yours,” you say, dragging a moth-eaten blanket to the couch and dropping down on it. “I’ll be out here if you need anything.”

“One more question,” Natasha says. “I’m Nat. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.”

Natasha smiles. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Nat.”

***********************************************************************

BOOM.

You feel like you’ve only just fallen asleep, but you sit up at the sudden noise, momentarily forgetting where you are.

“Police! Open up!”

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

“What the…?” You blink in confusion, tripping over the blanket as you stumble to the door. Peeking through the blinds, you see four men in SWAT gear standing on your porch. All of them are armed with multiple guns and one of them holds a battering ram. But you don’t see any police insignia on any of their uniforms. A tank of a truck is parked on your driveway, blocking the path to your own, and any chance of unnoticed escape. 

“Police! Open the damn door!”

“Y/N? What’s going on?” Natasha suddenly pops up in your bedroom doorway, her hair tousled and face drowsy. 

“We’ve got company,” you respond, as there’s pounding at the door again. “They said they’re police, but I don’t think that’s true–”

“Oh, shit,” Natasha gasps. “They found me.”

“Found you? Who?” The hair on the back of your neck stands up. 

“I’m so sorry. Oh my God. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drag you into this.” Natasha begins pacing your living room as bright lights stream through the windows. You probably won’t have much more time before they force entry.

“Nat, what’s going on? Who are these people?” you ask, running over to her. You’ve hardly known this woman for 12 hours, but you have a fierce desire to protect her from whatever’s hunting her. When you had first seen her in the bar, looking roughed up and sad, you had the urge to help her. But scaring Stu off wasn’t enough and even taking her to your home couldn’t keep her safe.

“I should have never come here,” Natasha cries. “You don’t deserve this, after everything you’ve done for me–”

“I can help you,” you insist. “Please, Nat. Just tell me who they are–”

She looks up at you, and even in the darkness the fear in her eyes is unmissable.

“The Red Room.”

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AN: To be continued? Any guesses on R's mutant inspiration? :)

Please leave likes, comments, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰

[thenatashamaximoff]

Whispers In The Dark

Summary: When a casual one night stand develops into a deeper, forbidden love, you and Wanda try to keep your relationship a secret as you navigate the challenges of balancing your growing emotions with the fear of being caught.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (no smut)

Words: 6,462

✎

┌─────────────ᗢ─────────────┐ @diaryoflife @women-am-i-right @creatively-analytical @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @beforeoursecrets @iliketozoneout @olsensnpm @hoefnagel └─────────────ᗢ─────────────┘ ┌─────────────∞─────────────┐ @myfavoriteficss @pinkytoecrust @cyncity32 @romanoffomixam @peachbear88 @magicallymaximoff @therealmeari @peggycarter-steverogers @ba-romanoff @natashabelovas @morbid-gaymer @reminiscingtonight @when-wolves-howl @idontknownemore @natashasilverfox @sayah13 @fuxk182 @scarletwitchofthewilds @natashamaximoff69 @wuwu96 @jsonebraincell @whendarknessturns​ @marvel4liferz └─────────────∞─────────────┘

⚠️IMPORTANT ARTHOR’S NOTE: The following story (or following chapters) will not include detailed moments of smut. However, it does contain enough sexual content that I feel more comfortable labeling it NSFW/18+/MDNI. With that being said, read at your own discretion. Enjoy.

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The extremely comfortable bed you were laying on beckoned you to stay put, the weight of the covers over your body engulfing you in a warmth you didn't want to disrupt. It was hard to stay awake when you were so perfectly nestled in like a swaddled newborn. You had to find the energy to toss the covers off of you, though your limbs didn't seem to want to really move at the moment. Yet, with the seemingly loud vibration hammering away on the nightstand next to you, you were being signaled that it was time to get up.

Wait a minute… you don't own a nightstand yet.

You turned your head, the confusion evaporating quickly as you realized exactly where you were. You remember the bar, the attractive woman you knew you wanted the second you were aware of her presence, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. And you couldn't help but smile when you remembered just how successful you were in accomplishing that. But now it was almost six in the morning and you had to get ready for work.

You didn't want to wake her up. The slivers of light sneaking past the curtains to show the peacefulness across her face in the midst of slumber was the best thing you've ever seen. You didn't want to be that kind of one-night stand, being unnecessarily loud, not even being thoughtful of the one who doesn't need to wake up at the ass crack of dawn. No, you were going to be considerate and make a quiet move to the bathroom.

You kicked your feet over the bed, but you still weren't entirely used to the fact that a nightstand was present. You bit your tongue when your leg smacked into the front of the bedside table with a loud thump, and you weren't quick enough to catch the falling lamp, flinching when it fell to the floor with a crash.

A peal of light laughter came from behind you as you stood up, bringing the sheet along with you and using your phone to survey the damage done to the lamp. And, boy, that lamp did not survive that fall.

"I'll pay for that," you said, looking toward her. How does that even happen? The one time you wanted to make a smooth exit and the nightstand wanted to put up a fight. An inanimate object was your downfall this early in the morning and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. "I'm sorry to wake you."

You were defeated.

"Are you getting in the shower?" Her voice was soft with no hint of annoyance in her tone. Was she not mad at you for pulling her out of the pits of her deep slumber? You'd be pretty annoyed that you were woken up by your one-night stand at six in the morning because they couldn't handle the nightstand.

She should at least be mad about the lamp. 

"Uh, yeah?" You wonder if that was okay. This wasn't your place, after all. Yours wasn't completely unpacked yet and you didn't want someone as gorgeous as her to see that storage container apartment you got going on.

She moved to flick on the lamp resting on the nightstand that hasn't embarrassed you (yet), replacing the morning sunrise slipping through the closed curtains with a brighter, artificial light. She ran a hand through her hair, getting some of it out of her face, as she sat up in the bed. You couldn’t help but stare at her - the way she tugged those locks brought memories rushing into your mind as you subconsciously brought your bottom lip in between your teeth in a gentle bite. "I'll join you," she said.

"You'll… what?" The smile she sent you at your confusion made your heart skip more than just a couple of beats. "Uh, we just met last night… in a bar, no less."

She raised an eyebrow, though the smile still remained on her face. "We also just slept together, Y/N. It's nothing I haven't seen."

You swallowed the saliva forming in your mouth so hard that it made the actual gulping noise. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment once more as you looked away from her, scratching the back of your neck. "That's fair," you confessed. You looked back at her and laughed as she hopped out of the bed with a smoothness that you wished you had earlier. It would've saved you from a lifetime of embarrassment.

She raced you to the bathroom, making you laugh harder at her little victory yelp when she beat you there. You wrapped your arms around her, bringing her close as you used your foot to close the door behind you.

It has been only a few hours since you parted ways. You walked down the halls, your mind occupied by… her. Her face, her hands, her smile and touch and laugh. You remembered every single second about last night and you just wanted to do it all over. Relive it once more. But you know how a one-night stand works, and there's a high possibility that you'll never see that woman ever again.

"Ma'am." You turned your head on instinct to see someone running up to you, holding a clipboard out along with a pen. "Just need a quick signature."

"What's your name?" you questioned as you accepted the items she was holding for you.

"Jennifer, ma'am," she answered, even throwing a little bow in there. You couldn't help but shake your head with a smile, quickly scanning the paper before scribbling your signature over the line, turning your head to meet her gaze.

"It's nice to meet you," you told her. Your eyes were drawn to something over her shoulder like a magnet to metal, your next words getting caught in your throat when you saw her leaning against the wall, focusing intently on the person she was talking to. You handed the woman the clipboard (her name was irrelevant now, you couldn't think of anything coherent at the moment) as you walked past her like a zombie ambling toward fresh brains.

You reached Wanda, looking at the agent she was conversing with. It only took mere eye contact for the man to send you a stiff nod before immediately walking away, turning to look at her.

"What're you doing here?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, almost just as confused as you were. "I work here." The crease in between your eyebrows only deepened with more confusion. "I'm an Avenger." Even with her clarification, it didn't make it any more clear to you. You don't remember her name on the list. She must be a new recruit. "Why are you here?"

You opened your mouth to answer but were interrupted when someone stepped up to you.

"We're ready for you, Director." You looked at the older man, reading his name badge as Phil Coulson. That answered her question for you, your eyes going back to Wanda to see the raised eyebrow and tight lips.

"Director?" She looked away from you, getting herself lost in thought. "Well, that's not going to work well."

You cleared your throat, your jaw clenching tightly as you turned to the agent. "Thanks, Coulson. I'll be there in a moment."

Coulson sent you a nod and left the two of you be, turning back to Wanda. As she tried to wrap her mind around what was happening, you waited for Coulson to be completely out of earshot.

"Why didn't you tell me that you're a new Avenger?"

"Probably the same reason you didn't mention that you're the new director," she countered.

You opened your mouth on instinct to rebuttal but closed it when you realized she had a point. You groaned, running your hands down your face. This is the worst-case scenario. It would've been better if you never saw her again compared to this, though just the thought of that pulled your heartstrings. You don’t really know how to imagine never meeting her.

"You're the boss," she said, once again pulling you out of your thoughts, "aren't you supposed to at least know who the Avengers are?"

"They sent the files, but I didn't read them," you confessed. "I wanted to meet the team members face to face." You did, however, read the names on the files and she wasn't there. You said her name so many times last night, you'd definitely remember seeing it on a folder. She must've been a last-minute addition, SHIELD not having enough time before your first day to compile and send over a file. 

At the same time, would you have been able to stop yourself from approaching her at the bar? No. The way her lips formed a pout made you want to do anything to wipe that away, so you would've ignored logic and spoken to her. You still would've made her laugh. You still would've made her smile for the first time in what seemed like forever. You still would've made her moan and pant your name as your skins melded together underneath her blankets, lightly scratching her back as she made you-

"Where did you just go?" She snapped you out of your thoughts again, but this time you were a bit upset about it. Your cheeks flushed red, burning hot. The smirk on her face told you that she had an idea, but you shook your head and ignored her question. 

"You are aware that this… thing can't happen anymore, right?" As your finger bounced in between you and her, her smile expanded, tinged with a mischievous glint that hinted at something devious lurking beneath. You found yourself needing to bite your tongue harshly in hopes that the pain would distract you from the warmth igniting in your gut.

"Obviously," she assured you and you sighed with relief. Now that the two of you were on the same page, maybe now you can stop stressing out about it. You knew for certain that you wouldn't be able to hold back when it came to her, so it was nice to see that at least one of you had some self-control. Quite honestly, the only thing stopping you from dragging her to your office and feeling her right then and there was the fact that you don't exactly know where your office was located just yet.

Maybe someday…

No. The relationship between you and Wanda Maximoff could not come to be. No matter how strong the connection, how tempted you’d be, it could never come to fruition. The unfortunate reality was that your relationship with the woman standing in front of you had to end before it even began.

That thought abandoned your mind when you watched her teeth catch her bottom lip, raising an eyebrow at you seductively. Your breath caught in your throat and your thoughts immediately became a jumbled, contradicting mess. She laughed as you finally managed to utter, "You're going to get me fired, Wanda."

"Director." You didn't turn, losing yourself in her eyes. You wanted to touch her. To take her face in your hands and connect your lips right at this moment, in front of everybody. New job be damned. And the annoyance that demanded your attention cleared their throat impatiently.

You turned your head to look at the addition to your conversation to see Coulson standing there, nodding his head at Wanda, a sign for her to skedaddle.

"I'll see you later, Director," Wanda hummed as she walked away, your head turning back so you could watch her leave.

"It's been more than a moment," Coulson pointed out, forcing yourself to tear your eyes away from Wanda's retreating figure to look at him.

You blinked. "What?"

"You're late," he clarified.

Your eyes widened. "Oh, right! What are you waiting for, Coulson? Let's get a move on." You gestured for him to lead the way, patting him on the shoulder when he rolled his eyes and turned his back on you.

"It's a good thing you're getting acquainted with the Avengers," he said as you walked alongside him. "You two know each other?"

"Not at all," you stated.

He hummed thoughtfully, clearly not believing you in the least bit. "That was Wanda Maximoff. She's got magic hands."

The snort that escaped your nose was involuntary. "She does indeed." You hadn't realized you said it until Coulson stopped moving to stare at you, his eyebrows bunched together, bewildered. You cleared your throat, your back straightening as you clarified, "That's what she told me earlier. She just didn't really tell me what she meant by it." You were right, there is no longer any more doubt in your mind that she was definitely going to get you fired. "Why don't you tell me more about Maximoff?" Though phrased as a question, he knew it wasn't one.

He continued forward and you easily matched his speed, walking alongside him. "She has a long list of powers," he started. "Telekinesis, energy and mind manipulation, and she can read thoughts. I’m willing to bet there’s more, she just hasn’t unlocked them yet."

You stopped walking this time, trying hard to keep your composure. "Mind reading?" So, she definitely knew what you had been thinking about earlier. "That's… nice to know." 

Observing your reaction to the subject being discussed, he quickly decided to switch gears. “Well, she’s not the only one on the team. There are other Avengers you have yet to meet. We’ll start with…” He gestured for you to follow as he led you through a set of doors, revealing a sprawling laboratory that occupied most of the floor.

Pausing at the entrance, you watched as Tony Stark worked intently on a holographic keyboard. It was only when Coulson began walking deeper into the lab that you followed, cautiously advancing until you stood in close proximity to the brilliant inventor.

"Who's disturbing my bubble?" The hologram vanished as his fingers moved away from it, turning his head to look at you.

"New director," Coulson explained. "We're just making the rounds and you're the first stop."

"Y/N," you extended your hand towards him. His gaze shifted from your hand to your eyes and, in that moment, it became abundantly clear that he was not going to meet the handshake. You quickly withdrew your hand and let it fall to your side.

"Tony Stark, but you already knew that." He smiled at you, though it seemed a bit forced as his eyes assessed you from head to toe, sizing you up. "You're a bit young to be a director of something like SHIELD, aren't you?"

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of annoyance at his comment. Without thinking, the words slipped out before you could sensor yourself, "You're a bit old to be playing dress-up, aren't you?" As soon as your response left your mouth, you realized the potential consequences of your remark. Insulting the man who was throwing a lot of his money into this agency was not the smartest move. All it would take is a simple “adios” and you’d be out of a job.

To your surprise, Tony simply smiled widely and extended his hand toward you. Stunned, you accepted the strong handshake. “It’s refreshing to have someone bite back," he said, glancing at Coulson. "Take notes."

"Yes, sir," Coulson agreed, nodding with a forced smile. You couldn't help but grin, crossing your arms over your chest.

As Coulson gestured for you to follow him, you lingered for a moment to watch Tony go back to work, biting on a pen when he watched a small simulation of his suit taking on a battle, to which the suit loses. He huffed in exasperation, taking the pen out of his mouth and tossing it aside. It made you wonder how long he had been tirelessly working on this project.

"I know someone who specializes in nanotech if that's something you're interested in," you confidently suggested, capturing the billionaire's attention. Ignoring Coulson’s constant attempts to guide you away, you continued, "I can introduce you to her if you'd like."

A spark of curiosity ignited in Tony’s eyes as he reached for the pen he had just thrown, handing it to you along with a scrap of paper. With a grin, you swiftly scribbled down the specialist’s name, eager to offer a valuable connection. Tony glanced at Coulson with piqued interest, “Where’d you find this one?”

“She found us, sir,” Coulson replied, monotonously, before subtly guiding you out of the lab with a hand on your back. "The rest of the team would be a lot easier to please."

"I'm not looking to please them." Well, not all of them, at least. There was one person you found yourself wanting to please more than most. She did things to you that you just can't ignore. "My job is to lead them. I'm not here to make friends." Or lovers, but you refrained from adding that.

"Nice to know," he stated, leading the way into the training room. "Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, meet your new director."

The pair, entangled in a fierce sparring session, paused and separated as Coulson made the introduction. It was evident that they were skilled fighters, evenly matched and fully engrossed in their training. Or they were just taking it easy. Friends normally don’t beat the shit out of each other just for fun. You shook their hands.

“Directors usually don’t properly introduce themselves,” Clint remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he rested his hands on his hips with a heavy breath. “They just read our files and assume they know us.”

“They sent the files, but I didn’t bother with them,” you confessed, shrugging loosely. “Bonds grow stronger when everybody’s on the same page, not reading personnel off of a piece of paper.” Glancing at Coulson, you added, “I’m making this guy walk me around the building to introduce me to the team face-to-face.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips as her arms folded over her chest. “Did you meet Steve yet?” Coulson fidgeted for a moment beside you, and one of your brows quirked up with interest at the sound of her teasing tone.

“I’m sure he’s next,” you replied, a faint smirk lifting a corner of your mouth when the redhead’s smile only grew wider. “I’m sensing an inside joke here.”

“Coulson is a bit of a fan of Rogers,” she explained.

“I have all his trading cards,” Coulson interjected, cutting the conversation off before it went much further. “We should get to it.”

“Can’t wait to see him, huh?” she joked, her grin turning sly as she stepped back. While they returned to their sparring, you and Coulson made your way out of the room.

“All of his trading cards?” you asked. “Do you have them laminated?”

“Each and every one of them,” he confirmed, and you could sense the pride hiding in his words.

He led you into the war room, where Steve Rogers stood, engrossed in a discussion with other agents about an ongoing mission. As the two of you entered, the captain’s attention shifted, and he straightened up, displaying his characteristic posture.

“Captain Rogers, this is Y/N, the new director,” Coulson announced, adopting a more professional demeanor in front of the patriotic hero. Natasha’s description of him being a fan seemed under-exaggerated, but maybe that was the point. You’re relieved to see that the team wasn’t all as serious as Coulson here.

“Good morning, ma’am,” Steve greeted respectfully, offering a small nod from his position across the table.

You pressed your lips together, a mischievous grin forming as his eyes traveled up and down your figure. “I know you all think I have big shoes to fill,” you began, acknowledging the weight of the previous director’s legacy. “Nick Fury was one of the best, but I’m here to bring about change. I’m not looking to repeat history.”

“I can respect that,” Steve commented, crossing his arms over his chest. A slight smile tugged at his lips, and you could feel Coulson’s subtle restlessness next to you. He was clearly worried you might embarrass him.

“What’s your current mission?” you asked, leaving Coulson’s side to join Steve at the table, studying the scattered papers.

“We’re dealing with drug dealers hijacking ambulances for narcotics,” he explained, arranging the papers to give you a better view. 

You looked up at him, a hint of surprise on your face. "I didn't expect a big-time Avenger to be doing a simple drug bust," you commented.

"You’re not the only one around here looking to make changes," he said. 

You grinned. "I can respect that."

Coulson cleared his throat and you both looked over him. "If you'll excuse us, Captain. We have a busy day ahead.”

"Of course," Steve said. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

"As you, Cap." You accepted his hand when he offered it over the table, giving a strong, brief handshake before releasing you. You walked behind Coulson as you left the room, grinning widely as you moved to his side. As soon as you were clear from Steve's earshot, you spoke. "You're jealous." It wasn't a question, and Coulson didn't show any expression in the statement. What did it take to coax a genuine smile out of this stoic guy?

"Thor is off-world dealing with some other stuff," Coulson said, ultimately ignoring your comment. “Banner has been MIA since the incident in Sokovia. And, since you’re already acquainted with Maximoff, I’ll show you to your office.”

Your heart fluttered at her name, immediately looking away from him to hide the faded blush forming on your cheeks. Why did her name make you feel this way? You had just only met her last night, so there weren't any long-time feelings between the two of you. But just thinking about her is taking away your ability to breathe. You didn’t struggle to follow your tour guide, but you did have trouble straightening your mind. You had hoped these introductions would last longer, giving you more time to avoid having to deal with everything. But without any distractions, you were forced to succumb to the realization that Wanda Maximoff was going to be in your life for as long as you were the director.

"Here." You released a deep sigh when Coulson finally stopped to gesture towards a door, giving you the distraction you needed to catch your breath. “This is your office.” You released a puff of air at the closed door, your name engraved on a plate nailed in place. You couldn’t let the emotions get to you - not in front of Coulson, at least - but this seemed to have made your title a lot more official. “The door’s unlocked.” If you didn’t know any better, that was a passive way of rushing you. “We also left you a little treat as a welcome present.”

Your hand pressed down on the handle, pushing slowly against the door with the agent right on your heels, and you managed to look up just in time to see something in your office that was most definitely not Coulson’s “little treat.” You quickly backed out of the room, bringing the door with you as you turned to face him. A nervous laugh nearly crawled out of your throat, but you managed to swallow it just in time. “I’m pretty sure I can handle this part on my own, Coulson.” The man didn’t argue with you, shrugging and walking away without another word as you slipped into your office. “What are you doing?”

“This isn’t the kitchen?” Wanda sat at your chair, not even bothering a glance in your direction as she casually ate what looked like a croissant (most likely the treat Coulson was referring to). You huffed, glancing over your shoulder as you made your way to the desk. Finally, she looked toward you, a smirk tugging a corner of her lips. “I could’ve sworn it was…”

With every step you took, your heart raced harder and faster. You couldn’t deny the intense attraction you felt towards the woman occupying your desk, even though it seemed so sudden and unexpected. She leaned back in your chair, crossing her legs and taking another bite of the croissant, slow and drawn out as she maintained eye contact with you. You couldn’t help but notice how the crumbs fell onto her lap, biting the inside of your cheek rather harshly as your breathing hitched in your throat.

“Is there something you need, Agent Maximoff?”

She quirked an eyebrow at you, though that smirk still lingered on her lips as she hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Agent Maximoff?”

You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “That’s your name, isn’t it?” you replied.

“It is,” she answered, shrugging as she added, “but it’s a much different turn from what you were calling me last night.”

Her words hit you with surprising calmness, as if she were merely commenting on the weather. You struggled to hide the impact they had on you, the way they made your stomach twist and turn in a way that would make a professional dancer jealous. You had a job to do, and engaging in whatever this was with one of your employees was definitely not part of the job description.

You took a deep, steadying breath and reminded yourself of the boundaries that needed to be maintained. This was the type of position people would kill for (literally) and you didn’t want to blow it away by fraternizing. No matter how tempting the allure of a forbidden connection might be, you had to separate yourself from the matter. “I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression,” you expressed, your voice composed but firm. “Our interactions last night were outside the scope of our professional relationship. Neither you nor myself could’ve predicted this kind of… predicament. As of now, we need to focus on our respective roles within SHIELD.”

Wanda’s smirk faded slightly, and she leaned back in the chair. “Is that what you want?” she questioned, her tone holding a hint of defiance. “To just pretend like it never happened?”

You met her gaze - the way her eyes were soft nearly made you take back everything you had just said - but you maintained confidence in the matter, your expression determined to just rip this Band-Aid off and toss it in the garbage. “We have to be realistic, Agent Maximoff. We can not carry a personal relationship. It’s for the best if we maintain a professional distance moving forward.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly, and a flicker of disappointment passed through her eyes. “I understand,” she said quietly. She stood up, popping the rest of the croissant into her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. “You want to carry on like strangers.” A friendly smile lifted her lips, and you could feel a tug against your heart at the sudden loss of warmth.

You nodded, standing your ground. “It’s the right thing to do,” you affirmed, but your voice wavered slightly as you cleared your throat. As you spoke, you couldn’t help but notice how slowly Wanda was approaching you, as if she were a lioness hunting a gazelle. Panic fluttered in your chest, causing you to take a small step back. You made the mistake of meeting her intense, dangerously hungry green eyes. “I’m the Director, you’re an Avenger,” you stammered, your confidence suddenly faltering. The realization of the inappropriate proximity between the two of you struck you like lightning as the back of your legs bumped into a couch you didn’t bother to notice when entering the office, stepping to the side so your back hit the wall behind you instead. Wanda was now mere inches away, her presence enveloping you. Panic and desire wrestled within you, making it hard to form coherent thoughts. “I’m your boss. We…” You trailed off, a sharp breath catching in your constricted throat.

At that moment, Wanda’s grin transformed into a wicked smirk, her eyes seemingly penetrating your very soul. The air between you crackled with tension, and you could feel the heat radiating from her body, or perhaps it was the fire building up behind your flushed cheeks.

You were torn between the weight of responsibility and the magnetic pull of desire. The line between professional boundaries and personal longing blurred as the intensity of the moment consumed you both. The electric pressure hung in the air, captivating you and her in a web of conflicting emotions. Time seemed to slow down as you battled with the overwhelming desire and the consequences of succumbing to it.

“We can’t…” you managed to utter, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feeling feeble against the mounting temptation. Every fiber of your being yearned to give in, to explore the forbidden depths of this connection with Wanda. But the weight of your position as her superior, the potential repercussions, and the need to maintain professionalism weighed heavily on your conscience.

Wanda’s smirk only grew more wicked, her eyes gleaming with mischief and raw hunger. She leaned in closer, her breath brushing across your lips as she whispered, her tone dripping with seduction, “Who says we can’t? Sometimes rules are meant to be broken.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between reason and desire. You could feel the fire burning within you overwhelming any remnants of restraint. With a surge of courage, you closed the gap between you, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of her presence. The world around you faded away as your lips met in a fiery embrace, unleashing a torrent of passion that had been brewing beneath the surface. Walls crumbled, and the pressure of responsibility melted away as you both embraced that forbidden desire that had blossomed between you. In that stolen moment, you chose to abandon caution and surrender to the allure of a love that defied expectations. 

Wanda didn’t hesitate to return the kiss, making it more intense, more fervent. You were ultimately pinned against the wall by her body when she moved to get closer to you, feeling the tip of her tongue swipe your bottom lip, silently asking for permission, and she swallowed your moan when you granted it. Her hands gripped your hips to tug you flush into her, sparking a burning sensation in your core, and it only seemed to get hotter when her fingers danced up your body, slipping under your shirt to surf the smooth skin of your curves.

You pulled away breathlessly, your head falling back to the wall as her lips landed on your neck with no mercy, licking and sucking any spot she could touch. You attempted to say her name, to bring these overwhelming feelings to an end, but the only sound you could produce was a groan when her nails dug into you to leave crescent-shaped imprints on your shoulder blades. 

“You’re not doing a very good job at keeping things professional, Director,” she whispered, her lips suddenly brushing against your earlobe. She laughed, and your stomach tightened at the breathy sound so close to your ears. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were enjoying what I’m doing to you.” You gasped when her knee squeezed itself between your legs, pressing against you in a way that nearly had you whimpering. “I love the sounds you make for me, Y/N.”

“W- Wanda,” you whispered. “Ple…”

“That’s it, baby,” she breathed, laughing gently as she pulled away slightly to meet your gaze. Her eyes were dark with desire, hooded by a smoldering intensity that mirrored your own. “Tell me what you want.” She smirked, thoroughly enjoying this moment. “Do you want this?” She picked her knee up higher, pressing into you harder, causing your body to jerk forward at the feeling of her touch. Everything inside of you burned painfully, desperately. One of her hands descended across your spine, bringing it around to drag a finger down your gut until it reached the hem of your pants. Chills covered your arms when you felt her dive in without a second thought, an inhuman sound getting caught in your throat. The wide smile crawling on her face told you she found exactly what you wanted.

The sound of a knock on the door shattered the fragile bubble of intimacy that had enveloped you and Wanda. Time seemed to slow down as she moved away from you, your hearts pounding in sync. The handle turned, and your chest tightened with a surge of panic, fearing that your secret would be exposed.

With a casual nonchalance, Wanda stepped aside, effortlessly transitioning into a composed state. She sauntered over to the couch you had already forgotten about, settling herself as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, you seemed to struggle to regain your composure, attempting to mask any signs of the passionate encounter that had just taken place.

The interrupter entered the room without a second knock, Phil Coulson pausing at the door when his eyes landed on Wanda before they flickered to you. He cleared his throat, crossing his hands in front of him as he said, “Am I interrupting something?”

“Just a meeting, Coulson,” you claimed confidently, fully collected at the sight of your deputy, raising an eyebrow at him as you folded your arms over your chest. “We just finished.”

“Not really,” Wanda countered, and you didn’t need to look at her to know there was a teasing smirk faintly tugging a corner of her lips, “but I’m more than willing to wait to thoroughly finish later on, Director.” You managed to fight the shivers that rode your body, but the chills that erupted across your spine were a different story. You wondered if Coulson could hear the way she calls you Director, or if it was all in your head. She stepped into your field of vision when she made her way toward the door, giving Coulson a happy smile as she rested her hand on the door handle. She looked at you over her shoulder, and you could feel your cheeks flush when you saw the darkened look in her eyes.

The door seemed to echo when she closed it behind her, sealing you and Coulson in the room. His words cut through the lingering tension, bringing your attention back to him. “I apologize for interrupting, ma'am,” he began, his voice laced with urgency, “but we have a bit of an emergency.” He stepped closer, holding a tablet that illuminated with an image on the screen. “It seems that Thor’s notorious brother, Loki, has returned to Earth.”

The weight of the situation settled upon you, dispelling the remnants of desire and reminding you of your responsibilities as a leader.  As Coulson played the video, you watched a seemingly ordinary scene: Loki calmly walking down a sidewalk. It felt odd to watch. Loki’s presence seemed to always bring a catalyst for chaos and destruction, so you find it difficult to believe that his return could just be taking a stroll, enjoying the sunshine.

Coulson’s gaze met yours, and you could see the faint colors of concern clouding his eyes. “We need to assess the situation and determine his intentions,” he expressed. “While it may seem inconspicuous now, we can’t underestimate the threat he poses.” The memory of Loki’s previous misdeeds lingered in your mind, a vivid reminder of the destruction he had wrought. It was clear that immediate action was necessary to prevent another catastrophe.

“I don’t want to waste time waiting for him to make a move,” you declared, your arms crossing firmly over your chest. Your gaze shifted back to the tablet, a sense of urgency seemingly squeezing your heart. “Loki didn’t return just to enjoy the scenery. Bring him in.”

Coulson nodded, tucking the tablet under his arm. “I’ll mobilize our resources and initiate the necessary protocols,” he affirmed, determination steeling his expression. “We’ll do everything in our power to locate and apprehend Loki swiftly.”

You strode purposefully past him, making your way to your desk. With a swift motion, you brushed away the loose croissant crumbs from the chair before settling down. As you took your seat, your voice carried an air of authority, “I trust you understand the importance of conducting this mission covertly.” Your attention moved away from the man standing in front of the door to one of the papers resting on the surface of your desk. “We cannot afford to have the public become aware of Loki’s presence, not after the chaos that ensued during his previous visit to our planet.”

He nodded in agreement. “I will assemble a team that can operate discreetly,” he replied.

“Make sure Maximoff is included in the roster,” you stated unequivocally, your voice firm and decisive as you reached for a pen.

Coulson hesitated, stepping forward to stand on the opposite side of your desk. He cleared his throat, attempting to voice his concerns, but you were quick to shut him down, “She may be fresh, but, from what you’ve told me about her, her powers have the potential to match Loki’s.” Your eyes locked onto his, and the next words that came from your mouth held a hint of a challenge. “Did you mislead me about her abilities, Deputy Coulson?”

His head shook vigorously. “No, ma'am,” he responded quickly, his tone filled with conviction.

“Then what seems to be the problem?” you pressed, a brow arching with curiosity.

He squirmed under your scrutinizing gaze, his discomfort palpable. “She hasn’t fully gained the trust of the others,” he claimed. 

A smile played at the corners of your lips as you leaned back in your chair, assessing Coulson intently while tapping the tip of the pen against your palm. “This mission presents the perfect opportunity for her to earn that trust,” you countered. “I don’t recall my orders being up for debate.”

“Understood, Director,” he responded, resolved. You could see the way his jaw tightened in irritation, but you chose to overlook it as he added, “Agent Maximoff will be included in the mission.” You nodded, acknowledging his commitment, and watched as he walked away, disappearing through the closing door.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you released a heavy sigh, feeling the full weight of being director bearing down on you. Exhaustion crept through your body, and you sank deeper into your chair, running a hand over your face in an attempt to dispel some of the weariness that had settled upon you. You tossed your pen back onto the desk when a realization dawned on you…

Today was just day one.

[imnotasuperhero]

Drabble nºX (set somewhere in the beginning of SB) -W.M

Wanda Maximoff x Reader.

Summary: After almost two years away from the life you had built, you returned to your hometown at your parents' request. But what happens when one Wanda Maximoff is involved in the family retreat?

Or, a quick drabble for day 5 of Promptober that I was forced (by my muses) to set in my ongoing baker!Wanda AU.

-

The autumnal season has arrived with a ton shit of emotions you weren't ready to unpack. Not because they were too difficult to decipher or anything… but because you had to endure the whole weekend at your family's cabin in the mountains with no other than your ex.

You see, time ago you were considered the couple of the year among your friends and family. With all the love and secrecy only two souls linked together were available to share, it was no brainer that you and Wanda would be together forever. But as time passed, the love you had created started to die little by little as the routine had gotten in between you two, making it harder to fight, no matter how hard you tried to put the extra part in the relationship.

"Change that face or you'll have wrinkles before you're forty," your dad had spoken, bringing you back to the present.

"Sorry," you sipped on your hot cocoa.

"What's happening in that head of yours?" The big man leaned over the island separating you both, with his brown eyes inspecting you. For a moment you considered lying, but then you'd have to face the never-ending interrogation that was bound to happen, knowing your dad's insistence.

But before you could answer, her energy gravitated towards you once again, like a warm blanket on a cold day.

"Morning," Wanda walked toward the cabinets, focused on making herself her morning tea, oblivious to the tumultuous thoughts.

"Morning," you greeted her, ignoring the burning itch in your body under your dad's look. You could feel his knowing smirk without looking at him.

Torn between the feeling of gratitude to Wanda for having saved you from your dad's inquisitions and the way the peace in your soul seemed to flicker whenever she was around you, the morning had left you with a bittersweet taste. The memories of a better time and endless comfort had set camp in your heart, making it impossible for you to be at ease in this cabin that held so many events. Each one of them was as vivid as if it were happening all over again. But despite the lesson you've learned about boundaries and applying as much of your no-contact rule from the things that interfered with your inner calm, you hadn't in you to refuse your parents' invitation to retreat to the mountains together, with the excuse to discuss some family business than involved you and Wanda, and by extension, Pietro.

Ruffling the small mountain of leaves that had started to fall, you prayed to the Universe to give you the strength needed to bear these next 48 hours.

Taglist: @wandabear @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @when-wolves-howl @sunsol-22 @romanoffomixam @casquinhaa @fxckmiup @snowtrova (if you wanna be added to the Promptober days or in my fics in general, let me know)

[jedi-luca]

Because of you I’ve fallen into a glee hole. NOW IM READING A QUINNXREADER STORY WHILE I WAIT FOR YOUR NEW ONE AND REWATCHING ALL OF GLEE. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!?!?!?!?

Oohhh nooo @romanoffomixam I’m so sorry you are putting yourself through that! Lol I’ll write like the wind and save you from the heartache that is glee 😝

[ginnsbaker]

@romanoffomixam if and when that happens im gonna lose my shit

I AM ON MY KNEES AFTER THESE.

She's perfect

[lanaroff]

Into the unkown- Part 4

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Parent!Wanda Maximoff x Parent!Reader

Summary: what happens when a baby boy is found in a hydra facility? what would you do when you find that is yours and wanda’s?

Warning: swearing, unplanned parenthood, angst.

A/N: part 4 is here, this one is a little bit short than the others, so i’m going to try and write part 5 as soon as possible -lana

taglist: @siriuslydestiny @blinkmuch​ @chickennugget468​ @wandanatfan @genzwomensimp​ @youre-a-wanker-number-9​ @romanoffomixam​ @kacka84​

  *not my gif*

“What do you mean you have a son?” She asked removing her hand from your lap.

“Some crazy scientist thought that it would be a great idea to creat a baby with both mine and Wanda’s DNA.” You said as you stood up and started pacing around the room. “Something about combining our powers I believe”

“With Wanda?” She asked again, and you nodded your head. “And what are you going to do about this baby?”

“I’m going to raise him.” You firmly said. You may be nervous about the whole telling her the truth situation. But you were cleared about one thing, Pietro was your son and you were going to take care of him.

“With Wanda?” Jane asked you again.

“Yes baby with Wanda.” But this time she didn’t asked or said anything, she just scoffed. “What’s your problem with Wanda being the other mother?”

“I can’t believe you are asking me that. You seriously don’t see it, do you?” She said as she stood up from the other side of the table.

“No I don’t. What are you taking about?” This time it was you the one who asked her something. You didn’t understand why she would react this way, you weren’t even friends with the redhead.

“I’m talking about the fact  that she is in love with you!” She said quickly yet loud enough so you could hear her.

She was waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t, you just laughed. Wanda Maximoff, in love with you. That was one crazy statement. Since the only thing that she has done from the moment you two met, was being harsh and mean at everything that you ever did or said.

“Don’t be ridiculous honey. We are not even friends.” You said trying to make her understand your point.

“Why do you think  she puts that poker face whenever you are around?” Jane said, and you just shrugged your shoulders. “Because she is so in love with you that she can’t stand that you are with someone else. So instead she pretends that she hates you.”

“You know what, i’m not going to sit here and discuss something that you clearly don’t want to understand.” You said as you grabbed the keys of your car.

You made your way towards the door, grabbing you jacket on the way there. However you stoped when Jane called your name.

“Where are you going?” She ask clearly mad about your sudden reaction.

“I’m going to sleep at the tower.” You said as you turned around. “We can talk about this tomorrow”

“You are going back to her?” She asked growing more angry and upset.

“No Jane. I’m going back to my family” You said turning back to the door.

“I thought that I was your family.” She said as she let some tears out. “If you walk through that door we are done.”

“Then I guess we are.”

And with that you left the apartment. How dare her implied that Wanda was in love with you. I mean, you understood that if she was upset about you having a kid with someone else, but is not like you choose Wanda to be the mother of your child.

You didn’t take your car, you wanted some alone time to think about your new life and the changes that you had to do for your family. As you walked the streets of New York city you found yourself staring at a donut sign. Maybe if you bought some donuts for Wanda she wouldn’t kick your ass for being such a jackass. Because you were, and you owned her an apology.

Once you picked the donuts you continued your way to the Avengers towel. You walked to the living room area were you thought that it was more likely for you to find her. And you did, and you also found a really grumpy baby that didn’t stopped crying.

“He won’t stop crying.” Was what Wanda said the moment you entered the room while she bounced the baby to calm him down.

“Here, let me.” You offered placing the box of donuts on the coffee table.

You placed baby Pietro in your arms and started walking with him while you talked about random things. You were telling him about all the things his new room was going to have. Not because he could understand the meaning of any of it, but because you wanted him you hear your voice. And as if it was magic, slowly Pietro started to calm down from his intense crying.

“What did you do?” Wanda asked shocked by the baby that was now peacefully resting in your arms.

“I read in a book that baby likes the feeling of your steps.” You said placing him on the couch between pillows.

However, Wanda didn’t even uttered a word, she just sat next to the baby and placed her elbows in her lap. The tension in the air made you feel as if you two had gone back at hating each other. Not that you currently didn’t hate her, you didn’t even know if you ever did. But you were working on a better relationship with her, and you felt has if you ruined it.

“I’m sorry Wanda.” You said to the redhead who was now giving you her back. “I shouldn’t have said or assume what I did, it was not fair. Your right, we should build the nursery here.”

“What made you change your mind?” She asked turning her head to look at you.

“I don’t know. All I know is that my home is wherever Pietro and you are. And right now, the best thing for him is to live here.” You said giving her an apologetic smile.

“Thank you.” Wanda said with a tired look. Both of you were mentally and physically exhausted, and fighting wouldn’t make it better.

“I brought you some donuts to convince you not to kick my dumb ass.” You said and she just giggled. “Why don’t you rest? I can put baby Pietro to sleep.”

“Please, I would really appreciate.” She said and allowed herself fall in the comfort of the couch.

“Come on big guy, let’s go to bed so mama can have some alone time.” You said and gently grabbed a sleeping baby.

“Mama?” Wanda asked clearly confused about what you just call her.

“Yeah well, he has two moms, so one of us is mommy and the other one is mama.” You said shrugging your shoulder.

“So you are mommy?” She asked but this time smiling at you comment.

“Yeah I’m the cool parent so, I get the cool title” You replied matching her smile. “You know, the one that gives you ice cream before bed time.”

“Cool parent huh?” She lift both of her eyebrows and you just giggled at her demeanor. “Well, cool parent, take baby boy to bed before he wakes up.”

“Yes mama.” You said as you turn to leave the room. “Goodnight Wanda.”

“Goodnight Y/N”

The next morning you woke up with a different attitude. You were now determined to build the best nursery your son could ever have. You didn’t even stopped at the kitchen for something to eat, you just went straight to the empty bedroom full of boxes.

“Okay I got this, how difficult can it be?” You said to yourself, and boy you were wrong.

Hours had passed and you couldn’t even build the crib. The thing had so many parts that your brain could comprehend were to put them. It was funny, you could build weapons out of nowhere, but you couldn’t put one screw where it was supposed to go. Why was it so difficult?

By the time that Wanda woke up you hadn’t built the crib yet. You were too busy struggling with building the furniture and hearing an annoying Sam that claimed that he could do it better and faster than you.

With baby Pietro in her arms, Wanda made her way to the kitchen and grabbed a baby bottle to feed the hungry little human. Where sh was met by a sleepy Natasha Romanoff that was having a cup of tea.

“Good morning Nat.” Wanda said making her way to the table to sit next to her.

“Morning Wanda, how is the little guy?” Natasha asked tickling the baby gently on his side.

“He is fine, he actually slept the whole night.” Wanda said smiling at her giggling son.

“That’s wonderfull Wanda.” Natasha said and continued drinking her tea.

The two of them sat there enjoying the morning while having breakfast and feeding baby Pietro. However their attention was focus on someone shouting clearly pissed off.

“For god’s sake Sam, I’m not letting you build my son’s crib.” They heard coming from the nursery.

“They been like that for the past 40 minutes.” Natasha said upon seeing Wanda’s confused face.

“Is that Y/N?” She asked curious about the whole situation.

“Yeah, she’s been building the nursery since she woke up. I don’t even think she had breakfast.” Natasha pointed to the room at the end of the hall.

This statement made Wanda’s heart skip a bit or two. She loved how much you were trying to be a good parent for her baby. So she made her way to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee and decided to go to the empty room to have a look at what you were doing.

“I’m just saying, I built both my nephews cribs, is no that difficult. Let me do it.” Sam said from his spot at the door.

“You want to build a crib?” You asked and receiving a nod from him. “Then have your own baby. This is my crib.”

“Whatever is not like I can’t do it better than you.” And with that he left the room leaving you more pissed off than before.

You on the other hand went back to reading the cribs manual, it looked like geek to you. You were so focused that you fail to noticed Wanda’s presence. It wasn’t until you heard your favorite baby boy scream of happiness upon seeing you that you turn around.

“Baby!” You said with a smile on your face as you put the manual aside. Quickly you made your way to Pietro and picked him from Wanda’s arms. “How’s my favorite boy doing?”

Wanda smiled at your change of mood the second you saw your son. But she aslo found herself loving how cute you looked kissing the baby’s face.

“He actually slept the whole night without waking up.” She said walking towards you and placing a hand on Pietro’s back.

“That’s amazing Wands. You are such a good boy.” You said ticking him once again.

Wanda had to look to her feet to hide her blushed cheeks. It was the fist time that she heard you calling her Wands, and she definitely love it. That’s when she realized the she was still holding the cup of coffee.

“I brought you coffee. I thought that you could use some.” She said while handing you the mug.

“Oh thanks Wanda. I definitely need some coffee, this stupid crib is stressing me out. I don’t seem to be able to piece it together.” You said clearly annoyed about the whole building thing.

Without saying anything Wanda walked next to the pieces and bent to have a better look at it. She then stood up and with her powers she had the crib built in two seconds, leaving you speechless.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You said now more annoyed than before. “I’ve been here for the past hour and you built it in two seconds?”

“And to think you claim to be the cool parent.” She jokingly said receiving a scoff from your you.

“If Sam asks I build the thing all by my self.” You said quietly so only Wanda could hear you, and she laught at your request.

The rest of the morning was spend like that, you and Wanda building the nursery while baby Pietro played with his toys. You liked this new side of your life. You loved doing missions and kicking peoples asses, but this domestic side made your heart feel full. It made you feel like it was what you were missing all this time, and now you couldn’t live without it.

After having lunch you were call to the principal Steve office, like you called. You had asked him the day before if he could give you all the files about the mission in which they had rescued your son. You wanted to know more about how and what they have done to him. So he promised you that he would hand you all the information they had about the experiment.

“Come in.” Steve said as you knocked on the door of his office. “Y/L/N, I was waiting for you.”

“Did you get it?” You asked walking to his desk.

“Yes I did.” He said grabbing the files from a drawer. However before the files could touch you hand, he pull them back. “This people are dangerous. Don’t do anything stupid.”

And with that he finally gave you the files. In the cover you could read Experiment N. 837. You hated how to them your beautiful boy was just a number, it made you blood boil the thought of him being treated like a subject.

“I won’t, thank you Cap.” You said turning to leave the room. However you stoped once you reach the doorbell. “Please, not a word to Wanda about this.”

“Sure.” Steve said.

You left the room more determined that ever before. You were going to make sure they paid for what they did. Even if you died doing it, they would never again lend a finger on Pietro. You were going to give them hell.

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine being Natasha's daughter and time traveling to the past by accident

"Billy a escape plan would be nice right now. You yelled at your teammate knocking a demon away with your staff. Three more replaced it though backing you into a tree.

"Why do I always have to come up with the escape plans." Billy complained firing off some energy blasts at the demons surrounding him.

"Because you're a wizard can't you teleport?" You cried blocking the demon trying to bite you. The momentum of the attack knocking you to the ground. "Billy come on."

The desperation in your voice made him turn around. He didn't realize just how bad the situation was especially for someone who didn't have his magical capabilities. "That power is new I can't control it yet." He pointed out flying over to help you. Using his telekinesis Billy pulled the demon off of you, and sent it crashing into the other one.

"Well use a spell or something I don't care what you do just get us out of here. We're outnumbered and while I'm usually more confident I'm feeling pretty outgunned here." You told him climbing to your feet.

Billy pulled out a the pocket-sized spell book Dr.Strange gifted him for his birthday, and started flipping through it. You stood guard in front of him swinging your staff around in a wide circle to keep the demons at bay. Eventually one of them got a pretty good hold on it, and snatched it away. You let out a yelp reaching for your gun, but before you could prepare for the last stand. Billy wrapped around your waist pulling you to him. His eyes were closed and he was chanting a spell as fast as he could.

The wind started to pick up, and blue energy was swirling around the the two of you creating a barrier. "Billy what exactly does this spell do?" You asked a little freaked out.

"I don't really know but it is a transportation spell" He answered back. Once he was done chanting, and the blue energy started to enclose on both of you. He tightened his hold on you as the energy grew so bright it blinded him, and then it was over.

You opened your eyes to take in your new surroundings. The spell had teleported the two of you to a familiar looking room. It was definitely a base of some kind but it didn't belong to the Young Avengers.

"Hey this looks like the-" Billy started staring in awe

"The original Avengers tower" You finished for him turning around just as a door opened, revealing two Avengers.

"That's because it is and we don't take kindly to random strangers just popping in." Natasha said training her gun on both of you.

"Dude it's Black Widow and Captain America like alive and young." Billy exclaimed grabbing your shoulder in excitement despite the seriousness of the situation.

"So you know who we are that's not really comforting" Steve said in confusion. His arms were crossed but other than that his shield stayed on his back.

You didn't share any of Billy's excitement instead all of your attention was focused on Natasha. Your mother the last time you saw her she had left you behind with Pepper to go save the world. You were twelve years old when she kissed you on the forehead promising to return to you. But she sacrificed herself breaking her promise, and leaving you alone.

"That must have been a time traveling spell y/n we're so screwed." Billy was shaking your shoulders now trying to get you to say something.

Him calling you by your name didn't go unnoticed. Natasha's eyes snapped towards you to really take your looks in, and the gun in her hand clattered to the floor. Once she realized it really was you her daughter from the future. "Y/N how is this possible?"

"Billy" You spoke up for the first time trying to not to cry.

"Yeah?"

"We need to get the hell out of here" You choked out.

Taglist: @wandanatvoid @yelenabelovasgf @romanoffomixam @xxromanoffxx @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mellowladyangel @musicinourlips @shayzulia @cyberbonesworld

[ginnsbaker]

PLEASE NO. IM DONE WITH THE ANGER THAT TURNS TO HURT. WHY?!?!?

People wanted to read this and I wanted a writing exercise so... :/ sorry sorry sorry

[8bitscarlet]

Taglist v2:

@hallecarey1 @swiftdazer @ilovemarvelwomen @maria-403 @10-19-17uswnt @hiyesilovewandamaximoff @scorpiosloveletter @aliixen @igyewho @dajirana @jujuu23 @shayzulia @thought-of-you-and-me

@didujustcallmedumb @theoowo @imtheflash @lynxwhispurrs @imagine-reblog @wandas-slut-heart @romanoffomixam @moonbyul-yi @lightwhoranoutoflight @meliq @littlelizard2607 @beeweezy86 @diaryoflife @fuxk182 @chaoticevilbakugo @aawake-atnight @nicolesangel @imthenatynat

Kleptomaniac

Summary: When you first met Wanda, all you knew was that she was perfect in every way possible. But now you've come to learn that she has one little addiction.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Slowly but surely working through these requests! Hope you enjoy it anon!

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!*

_________________________

You loved hoodies. They were your favorite thing to slip into after a long mission and just lounge around. Amazing for those chilly days around the Compound and even more perfect when they were on a certain someone with long red hair and emerald eyes.

Your love for the comfy piece of clothing was known through the ranks of the Avengers and they knew it was easiest thing to gift you. In fact, it was the first gift Wanda ever got you when the two of you first became friends. And now, she always finds a perfect hoodie for each special occasion. Because of that, your closet was just lined with enough hoodies to last you through an apocalypse.

Despite having so many, right now, you’re running around the Compound like a chicken without its head. You’re panicking because that hoodie Wanda gifted you all those years ago was nowhere to be found. Your room looked like a tornado had gone through it as you flipped everything over and inside out looking for this hoodie.

Panting as you jog down the hallway, you try to think of any other place you might've dropped it. You always left your hoodies around, leaving them in the gym, inside of your car, other people’s cars but you never, ever left this hoodie laying out. It always found its place hanging back inside of your closet.

Except for this exact moment.

Sprinting down the stairs, you swing around the staircase looking around quickly as you huff and puff. Muttering to yourself as you try to walk through all of your steps yesterday, you could've sworn that you never took it off until you got into the room. Flipping over the couch cushions as you throw them behind you, you only find some coins and old snacks.

You groan, throwing the cushions back haphazardly as you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Just as you're about to sneak into Tony's lab, a sound catches your attention and your breath catches. There’s a soft clang of a pot and you glance over slowly, praying to yourself that it isn’t Wanda as your brain tries to think of any kind of excuse.

“Lose something?” Natasha quirks an eyebrow with a smirk, lifting her glass of juice up to her lips.

You narrow your eyes at her smirk, “Do you know something?” you pant out, swallowing the knot in your throat as you glance to make sure Wanda isn’t coming around the corner.

Nat shrugs, “What’s it worth to you?”

You glare at the former spy, something gnawing inside of you and telling you that if she wasn't the one who stole it, she definitely knows who did.

Probably passed it off to Clint to stuff in the vent where you’d never find it, no matter how much you tore the Compound up. You never dared ventured up into those thing, the last thing you needed to do was fall through the ceiling.

Leaning onto the counter, you tap your fingers along the cold stone as you try to slow down your racing heart. Natasha has the upperhand here and she knows it. All you can do is try and get out of this with as little humiliation as possible.

“I’ll take your chores for a week.”

The redhead chuckles, a rather vicious laugh that fills the quiet Compound, “Wanda’s only worth a week of chores? I’m sure she’d love to learn that.”

You swing yourself around the counter before Nat can walk away and actually find your girlfriend. As you quickly shake your head, your jaw sets when you see the grin on her face as she waits for a better deal. You groan, dropping your chin against your chest and remember exactly what she's been complaining about for the last week.

“I’ll take your chores for two weeks,” slowly you take in a deep breath as you pick up your head to see the grin spread into a smile on her face, “And I’ll take Fanny for her walks.”

Nat nods her head, thankful to not have to take that dog on its three walks a day while Yelena is off on a mission. Reaching out to shake her hand, you hear the soft padding of feet and quiet hums as you keep your wide eyes on Nat.

“Where the hell is my hoodie,” you mumble out through the side of your mouth, trying to make sure Wanda doesn’t hear.

Nat holds in a chuckle as she flicks her eyes upward and past your face. Slowly, you turn and feel all of the air escape from your lungs as you see her. Walking nonchalantly towards the stairs, humming to whatever is playing from her earbuds and looking incredibly comfy for the rainy day. You feel a soft grin start to develop on your face as your eyes take all of her in, before it quickly turns into a frown as your brows slowly come together.

“You’re the worst, you know that?” you grumble at Nat as you make your way towards the stairs again, listening to her mocking laugh. It was embarrassing how many times she’s done this to you but she knows you'll do anything for Wanda.

Climbing up the stairs and making your way to Wanda’s room, you knock as you swing open the door. Wanda’s there, still humming away as she unpacks her suitcase from her last mission. She turns with a wide smile on her face, already knowing you’ve come into the room to see her.

“So,” you start as you start to slowly make your way towards her closet, “Who said you could wear that?”

Wanda’s brows rise, glancing quickly down at the hoodie she has on her body as she gently tugs at the sleeves. Her eyes flick towards her closed closet and sees the way you’re trying to slowly get around her.

“It’s just one of your hoodies,” she says, trying to casually block your path.

You try to hide the grin on your face, “Just one of my hoodies? Oh no, you know that that is my most important hoodie.”

“Well, you didn’t have any other ones and-” As Wanda looks away to try and hide the blush on her face, you lunge towards the door.

Your hand wraps around the handle as you yank and yank with all of your might. The door doesn’t even shake as you lean all of your weight back and wiggle the knob. Standing upright in confusion as you give one more wiggle, you glare at the door as you peer closer at it. There’s a light red hue covering the door and you spin around slowly to see Wanda standing there with a tight grin on her face.

“Wanda, babe, let me open it, please.”

She shakes her head softly, “Nope.”

“You’re hiding something. Where else would all my hoodies have gone?”

Wanda shrugs, still holding the magic in her glowing fingers, “Maybe they sprouted legs and walked away?”

You step towards her, “Wanda, darling, I think you need to open that door for me.”

“And why should I do that?”

You don’t give her another warning, grabbing her hand and pulling her closer to you. You press your lips all over her face, feeling her try to push away from her as she laughs. Your hands grip her waist, wiggling your fingers just right as she starts to squirm, trying to fight the laughing fit that is building. Her face is completely covered in kisses as you press your lips against her neck and blow against her skin, a loud raspberry breaking Wanda down into a fit of laughs.

“Stop! I yield!” she chokes out as you let her go into a laughing crumpling mess.

You laugh, seeing how red her face is as she tries to catch her breath and wipe away the spit all over her neck. Laughing out in victory, you quickly pull open the closet door and realize exactly why she wasn’t going to let you in here with out a fight.

Turning, you point behind you in disbelief, “Wanda, babe.”

She blows out a long breath as she wipes away the hair that has fallen from her braid, “Yes, my dearest love?”

Rolling your eyes, you start to flick through the hangers of all of your missing hoodies, “You have a problem.”

Wanda stands up, wrapping her arms around your waist as she peeks around your arm. You glance down at her, watching those green eyes you fell in love with staring at each one with a smile on her face.

“Do you really need to have all of these?”

She gasps, smacking your stomach playfully, “Of course, I do!”

You sigh, going to pull one out that you lost a year ago but her magic whips it tightly against the hangar, “Leave them alone!”

“Why in the world do you need all of these hoodies?” You try to turn in her arms but she’s already let you go.

“Why do you?” she retorts defensively but you just stand there, slowly crossing your arms as you wait for her real answer. Eventually, after pulling the sleeves over her hands and avoiding your eyes for as long as she can, “I take them when you go away on missions.”

You silently try to do the math in your head but brush it away, you just know they do tend to disappear when you come back to the Compound. Wanda sighs,

“I just… they smell like you. They help me sleep when you’re away. Like you’re actually here with me and not thousands of miles away.”

A warmth fills your chest as she tells you this, your feet quickly moving as you wrap your arms around her. Wanda presses her face against your chest as you press your lips atop of her head and breath in that soft, lavender smell that reminds you of home.

“And why have I been able to keep this one so long?” you mutter against her, gently pulling at the hoodie she’s wearing.

She laughs against you, sending shivers through your body at the warmth of her breath, “It was my master plan. This one will smell like you for a long time.”

You chuckle, eyes glancing up towards the closet again, “How about we make a little deal, hm?”

Wanda doesn’t say anything, just pulls herself closer into your embrace, letting out a soft hum.

“I take some of these hoodies back,”

She immediately grumbles against you but you tilt her head up softly, pressing your lips against hers.

“And I refill their little smell meter.”

Wanda presses her chin against your chest and smiles up at you, spreading a grin on your face when you see her nose scrunch up, “You better smell good when you wear them.”

With a shrug, you lean forward for another kiss, knowing you’ll get many more through the day, “Beggars can’t be choosers."

__________________

Taglist: @iliketozoneout@therunawaykind@rooskaya-yelena@yeeterthekeeper@women-am-i-right@marie45019@raincloudtoyoursunshine@olsensnpm@yeetus-thyself@hello-mtf@royalityofmultifandom@nfatale05@cyberbonesworld@madamevirgo@when-wolves-howl@pnsteblnme@witchmaximoffs@harleyswanda@yuhloversxx@chaekhan@chasethemoon@dopeyouth@temptationsbrew@evenbeingcrazy1998@tastefulsecrets@marvelwomen-simp@nuianced-tck-enby@tastetherambeau@xxromanoffxx@laaurrel@likefirenrain@nicomcu@sweet12sorrow@daenerys713@simplysimping999@wankydanvers@kasekina@sxfwap@cherrybubblesandvodka@ailenepuff@talia-alianovna@b-5by5@jjstar9898@i-need-somebody-else @atlas-nex @stealth-kittyy@fxckmiup @mistyysmione@lizzieolsenswifey

[ginnsbaker]

I’m so scared to read your new story. I don’t know if I’m ready to be hurt again

you'll be angry more than hurt i think

[thenatashamaximoff]

Piece Of Mind

Summary: Running into strangers while on a shopping trip with your girlfriend seems to leave you with a lot of questions. But, don’t worry... Wanda has a way to answer all of them at once.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: mind manipulation

Words: 3,323

✎ | ？

┌─────────────ᗢ─────────────┐ @diaryoflife​ @women-am-i-right​​ @creatively-analytical​​ @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @beforeoursecrets​​ @iliketozoneout​​ @olsensnpm​​ @hoefnagel521 @jsonebraincell​​  └─────────────ᗢ─────────────┘ ┌─────────────∞─────────────┐ @myfavoriteficss​ @pinkytoecrust​ @cyncity32​ @romanoffomixam​ @peachbear88​ @magicallymaximoff​ @therealmeari @peggycarter-steverogers​ @ba-romanoff​ @natashabelovas​ @morbid-gaymer​ @reminiscingtonight​ @when-wolves-howl​ @idontknownemore​ @natashasilverfox​ @sayah13 @fuxk182​ @scarletwitchofthewilds​ @natashamaximoff69 @wuwu96  └─────────────∞─────────────┘

It was that time of year again. The time when farmers' markets open up to let your beloved girlfriend splurge for fresher herbs and spices. You enjoyed watching her snoop around, the concentration etched on her face was beauty in your eyes. You could look at her all day, every second, every heartbeat. And when she found a perfectly plump apple or a ridiculously deformed sweet potato, holding it up to show it to you with the biggest, brightest smile… you'd only fall deeper in love with her.

You rested a hand around her waist and pulled her into your side as she asked the vendor questions, not paying any attention to the conversation as you stared at her, a small little smirk resting on your lips as your eyes soaked her up. She rubbed your back absentmindedly, chills racing up your spine underneath her touch. But the conversation soon bled through your trance, the vendor's voice cutting into your daydream.

"I actually sold my last batch of paprika," the vendor claimed sadly. "There's another booth a few yards that way that sells it. It's a bit pricier but just as good."

Wanda looked at you with a little pout and you were already stepping away from her, the slight smirk growing into a wide grin on your face. "Don't worry, darling, I'll go get it. You finish up here." Anything to get rid of that frown, no matter how small it was.

"Four ounces," she clarified as you planted a kiss on her cheek, "and don't get anything else, Y/N. Just paprika!" You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, taking the small wad of cash out of her other hand and shoving it into your jacket pocket.

You sent her a sloppy salute as you walked away from her, your eyes scanning the area for the booth the vendor suggested. The market was crowded today, and you normally weren't the type to do large crowds like this, but you'd do anything to see that smile on Wanda's face. The way her nose scrunches, the way she squints her eyes, the crinkle in her cheeks. There was no word worthy enough to describe the feeling you get whenever you look at her.

You caught sight of a sign sitting in front of a booth, listing off some spices they were selling and you were already making a beeline toward it when you saw the exact thing Wanda required. "Paprika?" You sighed with relief when the vendor nodded his head, handing you a small glass bottle of paprika. 

"Last one," he stated. "Paprika, very popular spice."

"Trust me, I'm aware," you promised with a soft smile, reaching into your pocket to pull out the money due.

He cleared his throat. "It's buy two, get one half off," he claimed as you looked up from the money in your hand. You sighed at his offer, knowing he was only handing out the deal after he spotted the amount of cash you had pulled out. "Nutmeg is popular, too. And cinnamon."

"I'm sorry, but I only need paprika," you expressed. "How much-"

"Please," he begged. "Buy two, get one free. Please, ma'am, business is not good. My family…" He trailed off, his eyes glossing over with unshed tears and the man suddenly looked so exhausted. His hands shook as he rubbed them together, nervous that you were going to deny his offer once more, and you couldn't help but feel bad for this man. "I can't…" He shook his head, his chin falling to his chest in shame. You saw the look in his eye, the look of desperation. This man was anguished, willing to do anything to help his family, just like how you’d do anything to make Wanda smile.

You glanced over your shoulder towards Wanda, but the thick crowd of people blocked you from being able to spot her. If she truly didn’t want you to spend the money, she wouldn’t have given you so much. You looked back at the man and cleared your throat. "I'll take that offer."

He picked his head back up, a smile brightening his features as a single tear slid down his cheek. His shaky hands held onto the cinnamon and nutmeg as he dropped them into your opened palm and, in exchange, you gave him the whole wad of cash in your possession. His eyes widened with shock and gratefulness, moving away from him before he could try to give some of it back. “Very kind!” he claimed and you laughed softly, waving him off.

"Have a good day, sir," you said before turning your back to him.

You looked down at the spices in your hands, already trying to form a story as to why you bought more than necessary, and why you no longer had all the cash she had given you. You absentmindedly took a step forward, so lost in your thoughts that you were completely ignorant of the figure running towards you despite the commotion he was causing. He bumped into your shoulder when he tried to avoid hitting you in general, but the sudden impact caused the bottles in your hands to fall. You flinched when the sound of glass shattering reached your ears, your chin slowly falling to your chest to stare down at the mess at your feet. The only one you needed was the only one that didn’t survive the descent. 

You knelt to pick up the two spices that survived the fall, sliding them into your jacket before you carefully started picking up the broken glass off the ground, not wanting someone to get hurt. Now you have to start thinking about a story to tell her about why you no longer have any paprika to give her, standing up with your hand cupped gently around the glass. You turned, planning on making your way back to Wanda, but were immediately cut off by yet another person smashing right into you.

Your hand instinctively clenched tightly around the glass shards, hissing at the sting it brought as the pieces fell out of your hand when you shook it as if shaking the pain away. You stared at your hand, no obvious signs of injury could be seen on your skin, but it didn’t make your hand sting any less. You weren’t aware that the person who had bumped into you was still present until they spoke.

"Y/N?" You looked up on instinct at your name, furrowing your eyebrows when you saw a redheaded woman look at you with hopeful eyes, a sad smile on her face. She looked ecstatic to see you, yet she seemed tired, short of breath from seemingly chasing the running man that had passed you earlier. "I can't believe it." Her grin was wide despite it seeming to be troubled, her shoulders relaxing as she maintained eye contact with you. She released a long, steady breath as if breathing for the first time in a long time.

You tilted your head in confusion. This woman treated you like a friend, someone she considers close. Yet, you don’t think you’ve ever seen her in your life. Surely you would’ve remembered someone like her, there was no denying her beauty even if your heart does belong to Wanda. She wasn’t a face you’d forget, not for a long while. But she knew your name, that wasn’t a coincidence. And she didn’t give you any major stalker vibes, feeling a sense of solace and security in her presence. You weren’t… scared. You felt… fine. 

The woman shook her head, disbelief was written on her face. “You just… disappeared, Y/N. Ever since the whole thing with-”

"I lost him." A man jogged up next to her, his eyes scanning the area to see if he could find his target, his face pinched into frustrated anger… until he looked at you. "Y/N?" His face softened, his eyes filled with worry and happiness, mirroring the redhead standing next to him. He, too, reacted to you like a close friend.

"We've been looking everywhere for you," the redhead said. Looking at the two side by side, they had a familiarity with them. A feeling of friendship and… comfort. Their names were on the tip of your tongue, you could feel it. You knew these two, but there was something in your brain that was forbidding you to connect them to your memories. As if that piece of your mind was missing, preventing you from remembering. And though your face was contorted into pure confusion, it seemingly evaporated once you mentally snapped yourself out of your own thoughts.

"I… don't know you," you said, laughing a little bit as you continued to coddle your stinging hand. "I'm sorry, but… you might be confusing me with someone else." They got your name spot on. There were more than enough different names in the world and they had somehow managed to get yours exactly right? 

Surely you'd remember these two.

"Y/N, it's… it's us," the man stated, pressing his hands to his chest as you slowly shook your head. "It's-"

"Clint. Natasha." They turned to look towards Wanda's voice coming from behind them, her arms crossed over her chest with a bag dangling from her wrist. The look on the witch’s face would send any sane person running for the hills, the way her jaw locked prominently, the way her pupils narrowed to the size of a crumb, and the tilt of her head. Yet, her glare didn’t send these two away with their tails between their legs. No, the strangers stood their ground against your peeved girlfriend. But when Wanda noticed the way you were holding your hand, all anger had evaded her face. She marched forward, moving to stand next to you protectively. "What happened, baby?" She took your hand away from you gently, glancing towards Clint and Natasha before inspecting the minor injury as she decided to blatantly ignore the two people in front of you. She was careful with you, double-checking to see if you were seriously injured, and you let her examine your hand for the invisible wound.

"I'm fine," you assured, shrugging nonchalantly as you looked down at the pieces of glass at your feet, the small pile of red dust. Hopefully, she didn’t see the waste of paprika on the ground. You always hated a sad Wanda. "Just a little incident. Nothing to be worried about, sweetheart." You shot her a cheeky grin when she looked up at you, not being able to hold back a smile of her own when she saw the unwavering brightness on your face. The stinging in your hand was immediately forgotten.

"Wanda." The way Natasha said her name made her look away from you and to the redhead, her eyes darkening with anger once more and the smile wiping off her face instantaneously. "What did you do?" Natasha, as you had learned, gripped her hips, eyebrows pinched together with fury as she stared Wanda down. You could sense the tension between the two women. The same tension was radiating off of Clint, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, but he was quieter about it. You seemed to be the only one confused about what was going on.

"I bought some fruit and vegetables," she answered casually, though there was a hint of hostility in her voice that you detected just as easily as the other two did. Her face still showed the annoyed anger, her jaw clenching whenever she wasn’t using it to speak. "As nice as it was seeing you two again, we should go get her hand fixed."

"Wait-" Clint stepped forward, grabbing onto your wrist that she wasn't holding, his grip strong and secure. It felt as if he was trying to keep you away from her, feeling him begin to tug you towards him, but Wanda was quick. She placed a hand against his chest and pushed him away from you, a puff of crimson smoke evaporating at the contact as her eyes glowed a dark red to match. A sign that she wasn't going to be so gentle the next time either of them tried to lay a hand on you.

"Leave us alone," Wanda warned through clenched teeth, "and stop looking for us. We’re fine." With her hand still firm around the wrist of your injured hand, she pulled you back in perfect sync with the moving crowd, Natasha and Clint almost losing the two of you immediately.

"I'm sorry," you stated as she continued to drag you, the crowd not hesitating to part, forming a perfect path for her as if they knew just how much of a threat she could be when she was enraged. You knew she was heading to the parking lot, trying desperately to get away from Natasha and Clint.

"It's not your fault," she said softly. "It's-" You pulled yourself free from her grip, making her stop. She turned to take a step toward you, her head tilted slightly with confusion. Her hands twitched by her side, wondering if you were about to make a scene right now, in the middle of a crowd. The only thing on her mind at the moment, though, was getting you out of here.

"No, I'm sorry I lost the paprika," you told her, reaching into your pocket with your good hand to bring out the cinnamon and nutmeg. "But, according to the vendor, these are pretty good." You sent her a smile, clearly unfazed by what had just gone down between her and the other two. "And I also gave him all the money you gave me."

"Y/N-"

"We can stop at the store on the way home!" you expressed, hearing the disappointment in her voice. "I know it's not as good as it would be from a farmers market, but it's better than nothing, right? I mean, he needed the money, Wanda, and-"

She stepped forward, bringing your face into a gentle hold, and the bag around her wrist softly tapped against your shoulder. Her smile was soft and genuinely happy. No sign of disappointment advertised on her features, no sign of the anger she had displayed earlier, her thumbs running circles on your cheeks. You felt yourself calm down under her green eyes, a crooked smile tugging her lips. “I couldn’t care less about the paprika, Y/N, as long as you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” Your reply was automatic. You couldn’t even hear your own voice, too lost in the hypnotic trance her eyes locked you in. Your knees were weak, your heart was pounding, and when she slowly pushed her lips against yours in a deep kiss, warmth spread through you as red colored your cheeks. You didn’t want her to break away from you, feeling as if her lips were the reason why your heart was beating, but she eventually did pull away from you and a soft whine came from the back of your throat.

Her hands left your face, plucking the two bottles out of your hands to drop them into the bag. “Come on, darling, there’s a first aid kit at home.” She intertwined her hand through your good one, pulling you close to her as the two of you walked side by side to the parking lot. 

“It doesn’t really hurt anymore,” you assured her absentmindedly, looking at your palm. 

But you couldn’t stop your thoughts from wandering back to Natasha and Clint, as Wanda had referred to them. There was something in the deep depths of your mind that told you you knew them. They clearly knew you. And what did Natasha mean when she said that they’ve been looking for you? You weren’t missing. You were with Wanda.

You climbed into the passenger seat of the car as the engine roared to life, Wanda glancing at you before pulling out of the parking lot. She didn’t bother with the radio, enjoying the muffled music instead as she drove down the streets, but it wasn’t much longer after that she was intercepting the silence with her words, “What’s on your mind?”

You slowly turned your head to look at her, eyebrows knitted together. “I knew them,” you said, unaware of her grip tightening around the steering wheel. “They… seemed familiar. Clint and Natasha. They knew me. I… can’t remember them. Why can’t I remember them?”

You watched as her lips pursed together, her eyes intent on the road in front of her. She knew them, and you thought that you know everybody she does. That's apparently not the case. Is she… lying to you?

"Wanda," you expressed, clearing your throat. She didn't look at you, her eyes straight ahead as if she was avoiding confrontation. "Who were they?"

"Old colleagues," she answered, finally glancing at you to send you a soft grin. "I told you I used to work with the government."

"You did," you confirmed, nodding slowly. "They worked with you?"

"Yes."

“But they know me.”

“I bragged about you all the time to them, Y/N,” Wanda expressed casually, shrugging as a smile tugged her lips. “It’s not hard to deduce what an angel looks like.” She laughed gently as you pursed your lips together for a moment, turning to look away from her.

You released a soft breath. "You should invite them over," you offered, suddenly perky. "I think it's healthy to rekindle old friendships." You smiled widely at her, earning a subtle shake of her head and a small laugh. "It'll put the stuff you bought from the farmers market to good use." And, maybe, whatever had happened between the three of them to cause such tension could be resolved.

She chuckled but shook her head subtly once more. "They're very busy, Y/N," she explained. 

You rolled your eyes, resting your head against the headrest behind you as you looked at her, taking a moment to soak in her beauty as the sun reflected her features in a brilliant light. You hummed softly along with the quiet music rolling off the radio for a second before saying, "We don't have to invite them over today. That's a bit last minute, Wands."

"Sweetheart-"

"Oh, c'mon, baby," you pleaded. She kept her eyes forward, her jaw clenching tightly at your request, knowing you were sending her a pout that would make her fold. "The house gets so empty. We never have anybody over. Not even our own neighbors!"

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened, her knuckles bone white as her stare remained front and center. But then she released a heavy breath, nodding her head as she said, “Alright. I’ll call them when we get home and we can plan dinner for this week.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at your giddiness as she slowed the car upon reaching a red light, taking the moment to look at you.

She could see how quickly your thoughts were racing, already laying out all the details for the dinner in that brain of yours. She sighed softly through her nose, sending you a wide grin as she reached over to rest her palm against your cheek. She felt her heart skip a beat when you leaned into her touch on instinct, a hum emitting from the back of your throat. But the excitement didn’t last long because, as Wanda pulled her hand away from you, swirls of red vapor escaped her fingers and disappeared into your skin.

You blinked, looking at Wanda for a moment before you broke out into a sheepish smirk. “I dozed off again, didn’t I?” You sighed in disappointment as she sent you a faint smile letting you grab her free hand to give it a squeeze as she continued driving. 

As much as she hated taking pieces of your mind, she can’t have you finding out the truth.

[thenatashamaximoff]

Whispers In The Dark; Ch. 2

Summary: When a casual one-night stand develops into a deeper, forbidden love, you and Wanda try to keep your relationship a secret as you navigate the challenges of balancing your growing emotions with the fear of being caught.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (nsfw), mentions of death

Words: 6,174

✎ | ❁

┌─────────────ᗢ─────────────┐ @diaryoflife​ @women-am-i-right​ @creatively-analytical​ @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @beforeoursecrets​ @iliketozoneout​ @olsensnpm​ @hoefnagel521 @chasingmaximoff  └─────────────ᗢ─────────────┘ ┌─────────────∞─────────────┐ @myfavoriteficss @pinkytoecrust @cyncity32 @romanoffomixam @peachbear88 @magicallymaximoff @therealmeari @peggycarter-steverogers @ba-romanoff @natashabelovas @morbid-gaymer @reminiscingtonight @when-wolves-howl @idontknownemore​ @natashasilverfox @sayah13 @fuxk182 @scarletwitchofthewilds @natashamaximoff69 @wuwu96 @jsonebraincell​ @whendarknessturns​ @marvel4liferz @red1culous​  └─────────────∞─────────────┘

“Yes, sir.” You seemed to have stopped listening for a while now. You weren’t sure what he had said. The words had jumbled in your mind, making it difficult to comprehend the meaning behind them. You wondered if you had even articulated your response clearly, or if it had come out as unintelligible gibberish. It was as if the random noise in the back of your throat had escaped, mimicking speech without conveying any coherent message.

On the desk in front of you, Alexander Pierce’s face appeared on the computer screen. As your boss and the higher authority within the organization, his presence demanded attention and respect. Yet… you were struggling to do just that. For what was probably the gazillionth time in the span of twenty minutes, your eyes slowly shifted away from the virtual meeting to land on the folder resting amidst the scattered papers that littered the desk’s surface. Wanda Maximoff’s name was emblazoned in bold, black ink on the tab, enticing your curiosity. It seemed that the comprehensive dossier on her had arrived just before this unexpected meeting commenced. You hadn’t had a chance to explore its contents, as other pressing matters took precedence. 

You had hoped that it would’ve faded into the recesses of your mind, much like the other neglected folders resting amidst the sea of unpacked boxes in your apartment. Yet, its persistent presence refused to be ignored, exerting what felt like a gravitational pull on your thoughts, compelling you to explore its hidden contents.

The allure of the folder became too enticing to resist any longer. With a mix of curiosity and trepidation, you reached out… but the moment your fingers grazed it, you were snapped back to attention by the mere sound of her name rolling off of Alexander Pierce’s tongue. “It has come to my attention that you sent Wanda Maximoff on a highly sensitive operation this morning.”

“Yes, sir.” The fog that had clouded your thoughts began to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of alertness. You recalled the mission you had assigned her earlier, a covert operation of significant importance. “The assignment involved retrieving Loki Laufeyson, Thor’s brother,” you explained, making sure your words were clear and coherent this time. “Agent Maximoff’s unique abilities made her a valuable asset for the task. As far as I’m concerned, she executed it with precision and achieved the objective successfully. The man in question is sitting in one of our… rigged capsules.”

Pierce’s scrutinizing gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable. “I hope you understand the gravity of the situation, Director,” he stated sternly. “Not only are Maximoff’s powers still relatively unknown and untested, but she also has a past that makes it difficult to trust her. We cannot afford any mishaps or breaches in security.”

You maintained a composed demeanor, acknowledging the seriousness of Pierce’s concerns. “I understand the gravity of the situation, sir,” you assured in a steady voice. “While Agent Maximoff’s powers may be unfamiliar to us, she has demonstrated her loyalty and commitment to the mission. Her past may raise questions, but she has been thoroughly vetted and deemed fit for the task.”

Pierce’s expression remained wary, but a hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes. “Vetting can only provide limited assurances,” he cautioned. “We must tread carefully when dealing with individuals of such complex backgrounds. Their loyalties can… shift unpredictably.” His eyes were guarded behind a steely look as his words hung in the air, underscoring the delicate nature of the situation and the potential risks involved.

You met his gaze head-on, unyielding in your resolve as a determined spark ignited within you. “I’m well aware of the risks, sir,” you responded firmly, your tone brimming with conviction. “Agent Maximoff’s past may be complicated, but her actions thus far have shown dedication and commitment. She successfully apprehended Loki under the radar. I entrusted her with a mission, and she exceeded all expectations.” Leaning forward, you rested your elbows against the top of the desk, emphasizing your earnestness. “I understand the need for caution, sir, but how can we expect someone to earn trust if they’re never given the opportunity?”

You could’ve sworn you caught Pierce’s expression softening, but he was quick to catch it, steeling himself once more. “You have an optimistic view of her,” he remarked, though his wariness remained visible in his tone. “Just ensure that your optimism doesn’t blind you to potential threats. Keep a close eye on her, Director.”

“I will exercise vigilance, sir,” you assured him. “The safety and integrity of this organization are my utmost priorities. We will monitor her closely and act accordingly should any concerns arise.” As you spoke, your attention was momentarily captured by the sound of your office door swinging open and then closing. Your heart quickened its pace when you watched Wanda confidently stride into the room, maintaining eye contact over the top of the laptop while sitting against the arm of the couch, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. The intense energy between you was palpable, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of anticipation.

Pierce’s voice brought you back to the present, jolting you out of the spell Wanda’s presence had cast. “Very well, Director,” he acknowledged, his tone authoritative. “I trust your ability to handle this matter with the necessary caution. Keep me informed of any significant developments.”

You nodded in response, slightly struggling to keep your voice steady and determined, “Yes, sir.”

With those parting words, the screen flickered and Pierce’s presence dissipated, ultimately allowing you to turn your gaze back to Wanda, who was still resting against the couch, a small, enigmatic smile playing on her lips. You closed the laptop slowly, deliberately, allowing yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. The room seemed to buzz with an electric charge, and the intensity of the connection between you and Wanda lingered in the air. 

No matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you knew you had to… you couldn’t deny the magnetic pull between the two of you.

“I wasn’t aware I had an open-door policy, Miss Maximoff,” you remarked. As you casually adjusted your position, leaning back in your chair, your arm subtly slid across the desk with your movement, purposefully disrupting the already-scattered pile of papers to conceal the folder containing her dossier.

She chuckled softly, lowly, yet you heard it all too well. “Well, Director, I couldn’t resist the temptation to see you in action,” she replied, her voice carrying a teasing undertone.

A playful spark seemed to ignite within you, and you found yourself leaning forward just as she was slowly moving to stand. “Is that so?” you retorted, a glimmer of excitement unwillingly dancing in your eyes. “Perhaps I should enforce stricter rules then.”

Wanda’s smirk grew more pronounced, and she began closing the distance between you with calculated steps. “Or maybe,” she offered, her voice low and suggestive, “we can find another way to bend them just a little.”

Your eyes darted to the laptop, remnants of the video call with Alexander Pierce slipping into your mind. The weight of your responsibilities bore down on you, reminding you of the delicate balance you had to maintain within the organization. The lines between professional conduct and personal inclinations blurred in the presence of Wanda Maximoff.

The air crackled with suspense as she rounded the desk, pushing against the top of your chair until you were fully facing her. Once again, the weight of responsibility is completely forgotten. Your jaw dropped open, a word on the tip of your tongue, yet no sounds could be heard when Wanda gently lowered herself onto you, straddling your lap as her fingers gripped the back of your neck. Your movements were automatic, your hands resting on her hips as you seemed to have trouble looking away from her emerald irises. 

“Wanda…” You were trying to say her name with authority, trying to warn her that she shouldn’t be doing this, but your body sold you out. Instead, you said her name wanton, as if you were begging for more because, fight as hard as you can, Y/N, you did want more.

And her low, breathy chuckle told you she knew that, too. “I told you,” she whispered, bending slightly so her lips brushed your ear. “I was more than willing to wait to finish thoroughly.” She took your earlobe in between her teeth just as she drove her hips against you, pulling a gasp from your throat while your stomach twisted like a coil.

Your grip on her waist tightened with need, and you gave in to the feeling pushing against you. With one quick maneuver, your lips were pressed into hers, swallowing her moans as your hands guided her rutting. Your insides throbbed with desire, your fingers danced up her shirt as she took over her own motions, and the way she moaned your name into your ear had you gasping. You turned in the chair, Wanda bracing herself against the desk behind her, and the movement seemed to brush some of the scattered papers off of your desk and to the floor.

“Touch me, Y/N,” she whispered, panted, begged. It sent shivers up your spine.

You obliged, allowing the tips of your fingers to ride the supple surface of her abdomen until they reached the hem of her bra. The skin under the garment was warm, and she was groaning the moment your touch skirted over the area she desired to be touched the most. Her chin tilted back as you leaned forward, exposing her neck to give you more access as your lips brushed across it like a feather. 

“Wanda, I’m…” Your words trailed off as a sudden clap of thunder reverberated through the air, jolting you back to reality. The sound seemed to echo in your ears, its intensity leaving you slightly unnerved, yet Wanda appeared unfazed by the disturbance. The moment you pulled back, she pushed forward, pressing her lips to the soft skin just underneath your jaw. It was like flipping a switch, plunging back into the captivating allure of Wanda’s touches and the sensations they bring. However, reality wasn’t going to let go of you that easily, reclaiming its hold as a series of sharp and loud knocks resounded throughout the room.

Unlike earlier, Wanda wasn’t as willing to part ways this time. She released a deep, irritated breath as she swiftly climbed off your lap mere moments before the door opened. A woman popped her head into the room, her eyes bouncing back and forth between you and Wanda for a moment before finally settling on you. She looked familiar, her name making an uncomfortable itch appear in the back of your mind as she fully entered the room.

“Ma’am,” her voice broke through the hazy enchantment, serving as a reminder of the woman’s identity. You recalled her from earlier in the day, realizing that she had requested your signature for… something, yet her name seemed to elude your memory. “There’s an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention.”

You pressed your lips together, scratching the back of your neck before you moved to stand up. Now that Wanda’s body wasn’t pumping adrenaline through you, exhaustion seems to be sneaking up on you pretty quickly. It was evident in your eyes, but your movements didn’t lack confidence as you followed the woman (whose name you can’t remember for some awful reason).

As she guided you down the corridors of the compound, the clamor of raised voices grew louder. Surely this was the urgent matter the woman had mentioned.

Rounding the corner, a scene unfolded before you - a swarm of SHIELD agents surrounding a central figure, their attention fixated on the source of the commotion. It was none other than Thor Odinson, radiating an unmistakable aura of anger and frustration at the heart of the gathering.

“I demand for my brother to be released at once!” he commanded, his furrowed brows displaying deep frustration and determination. His body turned, eyes searching the growing crowd, seeking an authoritative figure. “Loki belongs in the prisons of Asgard, not held captive in some mere human penitentiary! Show me to him!”

“That’s not happening,” you declared, the sea of agents parting at the sound of your voice. It was instant that Thor’s piercing blue eyes snapped onto you, eyeing the way you stood as tall as you could with your hands gripping your hips, projecting an air of superiority. “Your brother stands accused of grave crimes against humanity. He is required by law to face consequences, whether or not he is a god or the adopted brother of one.”

“And he shall see to those consequences on Asgard.”

“He didn’t seem to last very long in your prison,” you countered, your arms firmly crossing over your chest as you held your ground. The tension in the hall thickened as your words hung in the air “Considering he’s here and not there, did he get early release for good behavior?” Thor’s eyes narrowed, his gaze intensifying, while faint chuckles floated from the onlookers. Your focus remained on his intimidating presence. The soft laughter ceased just as quickly as it came to be, swallowed by the weight of the situation when he took a small yet heavy step forward, his expression becoming sterner.

“Where’s Fury?” Thor’s voice was laced with a mix of suspicion and urgency. The mention of the former director’s absence seemed to ignite a spark of concern within him.

You cleared your throat, your tone unwavering as you met Thor’s fiery gaze. “He’s no longer with us. Unfortunately for you, Mr. Odinson, that puts me in charge.” Authority floated around you as you stepped forward with confidence despite the anger displayed on his face. “Loki stays here.”

The area grew quiet, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. All eyes were fixed upon the clash of wills between you and Thor, the atmosphere crackled with tension as the two of you stood locked in a silent battle of determination. The fate of Loki hung in the balance, and it was clear that both of you were determined to defend your respective positions.

“Loki is my brother. My responsibility,” Thor announced, his voice growing deeper and more forceful. “I’m not leaving until he is at my side, and anyone who stands in my way will face their own consequences.” The agents in the room exchanged uneasy glances, recognizing the potential for conflict that loomed before them. Some even slowly moved their hands to rest on their sidearms, and you could feel your stomach twisting tautly with nerves. Hopefully, it doesn’t come down to that.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the mounting pressure. It was clear that Thor’s determination had escalated, and finding a peaceful resolution would be an uphill battle. But you couldn’t allow the situation to escalate into violence or compromise the safety of those nearby. “I understand the bond you share with Loki, Mr. Odinson,” you finally said, your tone steady despite the growing tension, “but we cannot allow personal attachments to undermine our duty and the security of innocent lives. We must consider the results of releasing Loki into an environment where he has proven to be a threat.”

Your decision was met with an intense gaze, his grip on Mjolnir tightening, sparks of electricity crackling around him. The crowd held its breath, awaiting his next move.

“Stand aside,” Thor growled, his voice filled with anger and resolve, “or face the full fury of a god.”

Your heart raced rapidly, beating against your chest as he seemed to stand taller before you, but you stood your ground, refusing to be intimidated. “Violence is not the answer.” You lifted a hand in an attempt to calm him down as you added, “We must find a way to resolve this without causing harm to anyone.”

The air seemed to tremble with the unspoken clash between the two of you. The agents watched on, their loyalty divided between their duty and the power emanating from Thor. At that moment, you realized that finding a compromise would be even more challenging than anticipated. The fate of Loki, the security of the organization, and the potential for a confrontation hung in the balance, awaiting a resolution that could satisfy both duty and familial bonds.

Heavy silence suffocated you as Thor’s gaze bore through you, his muscles tensed and ready for action. It wasn’t a debate anymore, it was a standoff. A battle of wills that threatened to tip over into chaos. The weight of the decision rested upon your shoulders, and the outcome would shape the course of events to come.

It was a moment of unexpected intervention. As Thor attempted to wield his hammer, a surge of red energy surrounded his wrist, hindering his progress. His mighty strength rendered ineffective against the force, causing his brows to knit together with rage, his pupils narrowing even further to mere crumbs. His gaze shifted behind you, and you turned to witness Wanda, her eyes ablaze with a fiery crimson hue, exerting her own power to counter Thor’s aggression. You found your stomach uncoiling when she met your stare with a soft, easy smile.

Hushed whispers filled the air as the two powerful beings struggled against each other, the agents watching in awe and apprehension, unsure of how this unexpected turn of events would unfold.

“Release me!” Thor’s voice boomed, his demand filled with indignation and defiance.

You felt a renewed sense of empowerment surge within you, a willful smirk curling your lips. The tables had turned, and you held the upper hand for now. With a determined gaze, you stood your ground, undeterred by Thor’s wrath. “Not until you calm down,” you declared, voice steady and commanding. It was a bold move, challenging the god of thunder himself, but you were resolute in your stance. The safety of everyone involved and the preservation of order was paramount.

Thor’s expression shifted from anger to incredulity, his eyebrows furrowing deeper as he grappled with the unexpected resistance he faced. The room crackled with charged energy, the clash between power and authority hanging in the balance. “I’m calm,” he finally said.

Wanda’s crimson eyes locked with yours once more, a silent understanding passing between you. She released her hold on him, and Thor straightened his form as his eyes danced back to you. He stared at you for a moment, feeling as if he were sizing you up, or as if he were forming another plan in that brain of his to get his brother back. Either way, you didn’t back down.

“Very well,” he conceded, his voice tinged with disappointment. “But know this, Director, I will be watching closely.” He turned on his heels, the crowd of agents instantly parting to give way as he marched away. The presence of the Asgardian gradually faded, his departure leaving behind a lingering sense of tension in the room.

You nodded, clapping your hands together while you announced, “Back to work, everybody.” As the agents returned to their normal rhythm, dispersing to resume their duties, the weight of the confrontation slowly lifted from your shoulders. You turned to fully face Wanda, but your gaze slowly drifted to Coulson lingering behind her in time to catch his small nod before he left.

“That was very impressive,” Wanda mused, struggling to hide the mischievous smirk that played upon her lips. With each sly step she took towards you, your heart quickened its pace, climbing up to your throat, unable to escape the intensity of the moment. The darkening depths of her eyes added an electrifying allure, casting a spell upon your senses. “It takes a special kind of courage to challenge a god, especially one consumed by anger.”

The surge of pride coursed through your veins, straightening your posture and bolstering your confidence. With a casual shrug, you maintained an air of nonchalance, even as you found yourself drawn closer to her magnetic presence. “I wouldn’t be a very good director if I cowered away at mere inconveniences, Miss Maximoff.”

She responded with a whimsical hum, her playful head tilt accompanied by the tantalizing sight of her teeth capturing her bottom lip. Her eyes glistened with desire, casting a bewitching spell that ensnared your senses. Lost in the haze of her allure, your arm instinctively reached out, compelled to gently sweep away the stray strands of hair that adorned her cheek. For a fleeting moment, you forgot your surroundings - that you weren’t in the solitude of your office, nor the seclusion of her apartment - until an abrupt chirp shattered the illusion. Your phone, a stark reminder of reality, jolted you back to your senses. Like a switch being flipped, full control over yourself snapped back, causing your breath to hitch in your throat as you hastily stepped away from her. The passionate darkness in her emerald irises wavered, replaced by a tinge of disappointment as you cleared your throat, forcing yourself to avert your gaze and reach for your phone.

The spell was broken, and the weight of your responsibilities crashed back down upon you when you read your boss’s name on the screen, serving as a harsh reminder of the boundaries that needed to be maintained. The boundaries you are constantly neglecting.

“Excuse me, Miss Maximoff, but duty calls,” you uttered, your voice betraying a hint of reluctance. As you lifted your eyes to meet hers once more, a strange sensation washed over you, causing your legs to momentarily falter. Lost within the depths of her captivating gaze, you found yourself trapped in a trance unlike any before. The usual desires, seductive playfulness, and mischievous glints were replaced with something different - something softer, more powerless.

In that brief instance, vulnerability danced in the depths of her eyes, as if revealing a hidden side that had previously remained concealed. It tugged at your heartstrings, stirring a mix of emotions within you. The allure remained, but it was laced with a yearning for connection and understanding. It was a vulnerable invitation, silently pleading for you to acknowledge the unspoken depths of her being.

However, duty compelled you to tear yourself away from the enchanting pull. With a resolute sigh, you mustered the strength to regain control over your legs, willing them to move forward. Yet, the memory of that moment lingered in the recesses of your mind, leaving an indelible mark upon you.

You could feel her eyes on the back of your head as you walked away.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Come in,” you announced automatically, barely lifting your gaze from the papers scattered across your desk. The routine had become second nature to you: someone knocked, you acknowledged their presence, signed whatever document they presented, and swiftly dismissed them. Your hand instinctively reached out to receive the clipboard, expecting the familiar weight of papers to land in your palm. But the footsteps approaching your desk seemed unusually slow, causing a flicker of curiosity to interrupt your monotonous rhythm.

Lifting your head, you found yourself locking eyes with Coulson. To your surprise, his hands were empty, folded neatly across his chest as he fixed an expectant gaze upon you. The absence of paperwork left you momentarily puzzled, prompting a question to escape your lips. 

“Am I missing something here?” He maintained his composed stance, the air in the room growing heavy with unspoken revelations, and the gravity of the moment enveloped you. “Out with it, Coulson,” you pressed.

“Mr. Pierce is waiting for you in the conference room.” He met your gaze steadily, clearing his throat as he patiently waited for your mind to process his words.

Confusion furrowed your brows for a brief moment before surprise widened your eyes as you frantically sifted through the papers on your desk, searching for your phone. Desperation laced your voice as you hastily denied the imminent arrival. “No, he’s not due until tomorrow,” you protested, a touch of desperation seeping into your words. “It’s-”

“Ten in the morning.” Coulson interrupted your frantic search, his head tilting to the side as he observed your panicked movements. The unspoken thoughts that passed between you were evident in his expression. No, you hadn’t gone home. No, you hadn’t slept. Yes, you were doing all this paperwork Pierce sent over last night. Yes, your mind had been consumed with thoughts of Wanda Maximoff. The weight of your responsibilities and the unanticipated turn of events collided, leaving you reeling with a mix of exhaustion, longing, and apprehension.

In the corner of your eye, a glimmer caught your attention, obscured beneath the papers on your desk. Relief washed over you as you successfully fished your phone out of the chaotic pile. However, any fleeting sense of triumph swiftly dissipated when you glanced at the screen. Coulson’s words echoed in your mind, confirming Pierce’s untimely arrival and a wave of anxiety surged through you. The details of this meeting eluded you as if shrouded by a foggy haze.

Without a second though, you sprang to your feet with such haste that your chair careened into the wall behind you. The loud thud punctuated the urgency of the situation, emphasizing the disarray that mirrored your racing thoughts. Time seemed to accelerate as you quickly gathered your composure, determined to face the impending meeting, even if you couldn’t recall its purpose.

You exited the room, the door slowly sliding shut behind you, leaving your deputy director alone. However, it didn’t take long for a realization to dawn upon you, prompting a swift about-face. Sheepishly, you poked your head back into the office, a contrite smile adorning your face. “Where’s the conference room?” His finger pointed in the direction you needed to go, and with a nod of gratitude, you swiftly disappeared once more, determined to find your way to the meeting.

Upon reaching the conference room door, the sound of laughter emanating from within caused your muscles to tense up. One laugh was unmistakably Pierce’s, characterized by its gruffness and rigidity. However, the other laughter resonated deep within you, igniting a warmth in your gut that was undeniable. The mere sound of her laugh had the power to captivate you, making you hesitate to open the door and disrupt the harmonious melody unfolding on the other side. But you quickly snapped out of your daze, remembering that Wanda Maximoff should not be engaged in friendly conversation with your boss.

With resolve, you entered the room and confirmed your instincts. Wanda was indeed immersed in a cheerful conversation with Alexander Pierce, both of them sporting smiles. You forced one of your own, but as soon as you met those sparkling green eyes, your grin became authentic. “What’s going on in here?” you inquired, closing the distance to the occupied table.

“There you are, Director. Please, take a seat and join us,” Pierce greeted with unexpected cheerfulness, a major difference from the stern man you’d spoken to through the computer not that long ago. He gestured toward the seat next to Wanda, and you reluctantly settled into the chair while attempting to maintain a noticeable distance from the woman. “Where have you been hiding this one from us?” He looked toward Wanda, whose face had grown brighter when she saw you. “She’s an absolute delight! And she’s already ours for the taking.” Soft laughter lingered in his voice, leaving you intrigued about their earlier conversation.

The sight of Pierce’s ease and comfort with Wanda - as if they were old friends - immediately after issuing a strict order for you to monitor her due to a lack of trust in the new Avenger sent waves of unease rippling through you. It was disconcerting to witness such a stark contrast in his behavior, as if the order had been mere words with no real significance. Your mind raced with questions, trying to comprehend the motives behind his contradictory actions. Did he genuinely trust Wanda more than he let on? Or was there a hidden agenda at play? Doubt gnawed at you.

Wanda chimed in playfully, answering on your behalf while keeping her eyes trained on you, “Oh, Y/N just loves keeping me for herself.” However, as she spoke, Pierce’s demeanor shifted abruptly, returning to his usual strict professionalism. He studied Wanda intently, causing her to divert her gaze from you to meet his scrutinizing one. A knot of anticipation formed in your stomach as you watched him silently analyze her.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head for a moment before turning to you. “I’m impressed by how you handled the Loki situation,” he confessed. A glimmer of pride shone in his eyes, contrasting with his rugged expression. “It was your first assignment, a significant one at that, not to mention. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you had what it took, but I’m not one to shy away from admitting I was wrong.”

Leaning forward, Wanda placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and spoke, her voice filled with admiration, “It’s only been a day, but I think Y/N’s been doing a wonderful job so far.” This time, your smile remained forced as you subtly shifted your shoulder, discreetly removing her hand from your touch under Pierce’s watchful eyes.

“I can handle anything thrown at me, sir,” you commented in an attempt to divert his attention.

He cleared his throat, his eyes dancing back and forth between you and Wanda for a quiet, tense moment before asking, “Do you let all your agents call you by your first name?”

“No, sir-”

“I don’t see how that’s really relevant here,” she interrupted, not mincing her words. You swallowed the thick saliva that had formed in your throat, the knot in your gut beginning to grow tighter. “I believe that she-”

“Agent Maximoff,” you interjected swiftly, your voice firm, trying to regain control of the situation. You avoided meeting her eyes as they flickered toward you. “That’ll be all for now.” The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, with Wanda watching you, Pierce observing her, and you staring at the table, desperate to dodge all eyes.

“Yes, Director.” You winced subtly at the tone of her voice, ultimately telling you that she was not pleased with your dismissal. Surely she wasn’t one to hold a grudge over something so minute… right? 

Pierce adjusted his suit jacket as she made her way out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. The sound of the door closing resonated in the quiet before his voice finally cut through it, “I’m not questioning your ability to do this job, Director.”

“Hasn’t even crossed my mind, sir,” you assured.

“I mean, you’re the first female lead since the fifties. I have the right to be cautious.” His smile appeared forced, lacking the sincerity it held when you first entered the room. The tension returned, and he seemed to fully revert to his usual self. “I came here to ask about your plans with Loki.”

“We have him contained in a specially designed confinement capsule aboard the Helicarrier,” you began, your voice steady and composed. “The cell is equipped with a failsafe. Any attempts to escape or breach the containment will trigger a rapid descent mechanism, dropping whoever is in the cell a significant distance.” You glanced at Pierce, ensuring that he was following your explanation. His eyes narrowed slightly, indicating his focus on the matter at hand. “I made it clear to Loki about the consequences of any efforts of escape,” you continued. “The knowledge of imminent death should serve as a deterrent and discourage any further disruptions or attempts to regain his freedom. My plan for Loki is to keep him imprisoned to prevent any further damage to Earth.”

Pierce nodded, slow and precise movements, but you sensed by the way he leaned back that he was ready to voice his concerns. “You want to keep him locked up for the rest of time?” He scoffed, a humorless laugh crawling out of his throat as he shook his head. “Loki has caused substantial damage to New York, costing us billions of dollars.”

“He has also taken just as many innocent lives,” you quickly claimed. “It’s not about the money, sir. People-”

“That’s beside the point,” he interrupted. “Keeping him locked up isn’t enough.”

Your eyebrows knitted together deeply as you eyed him, trying to get a good read on his face, but he was a closed book with no chance of getting it to open. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not sure I understand what you’re implying.”

Pierce’s gaze solidified, his tone growing more serious. “What I’m implying, Director, is that simply containing Loki isn’t a long-term solution. We need to consider more permanent measures to ensure he can never pose a threat again.”

A flicker of concern crossed your face as you contemplated the weight of his words. “Are you suggesting…?”

He leaned forward, his voice lowered. “I’m suggesting we explore options for a more definitive resolution,” he explained.

Your breath caught in the back of your throat, the earnestness of his proposition sinking in. “You’re talking about… terminating Loki?”

His expression remained impassive, but there was an underlying intensity in his eyes. “I didn’t propose such an extreme measure, Director.” He shrugged loosely, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Loki is a prideful god. He views humans as insignificant and feeble creatures. It’s only a matter of time before his arrogance is bound to make him disregard your warnings and… attempt to escape his rigged prison. If he chooses that path, we cannot be held accountable.”

You paused, allowing his words to sink in, fully aware of the subtle subtext beneath his statement. It was a strategic maneuver to absolve himself and the organization of any responsibility. By framing Loki’s demise as a consequence of his own pretentious choices, he aimed to keep your - and his own - hands free from the stain of his blood.

The knot in your stomach - the one you had thought had dispersed at Wanda’s departure - reappeared, only this time it launched itself into your throat. The way his eyes gleamed with a sinister glint made you feel nauseous. “Sir, I understand the severity of Loki’s actions, but we must also remember our duty to uphold the principles of justice and due process. We cannot become judge, jury, and executioner,” you argued.

His gaze bore into yours, his voice unwavering, “We can’t afford to let sentimentality cloud our judgment. Loki has proven time and again that he is a danger to global security. We must be willing to consider all options, even if they are difficult.”

The weight of his words pressed upon you, and you knew you weren’t going to convince him otherwise no matter how hard you fought. Still, you didn’t plan on giving in so easily just yet. “Then we must exhaust all alternatives, explore advanced containment methods, and leverage our resources to ensure the safety of both our agents and the world.”

Pierce’s face hardened, the lines etched deeper into his features. “Director,” he began, folding his hands on top of the table between you and him, “there will come a point where we have exhausted all options. Don’t you think it’d be a waste of time, resources, and money to only end up at the same outcome?” He smiled lightly, a wicked tinge to the expression. “We cannot shy away from that possibility.”

Your eyes locked with his, a silent battle of principles and pragmatism. You had gone head to head with the God of Thunder and won. Yet, here you were, butting heads with a mortal man and on the verge of losing. “I refuse to believe that we must sacrifice our values is the only path to achieving the greater good. It is our duty to explore other solutions, to seek justice and preserve life - all lives. We cannot embrace the mindset that justifies shedding blood. There must always be a line we will not cross.”

His gaze softened ever so slightly, a flicker of begrudging respect crossing his features. “I must admit, Director, your unwavering dedication is commendable.” However, the smile that lingered on his lips revealed his underlying satisfaction. It was evident that you had officially lost this battle, succumbing to his ability to see to it that you would never step foot inside a SHIELD building for the rest of your life. “I expect a comprehensive report in my email by the end of the week.” He swiftly rose from his seat, adjusting his jacket with deliberate movements. “An autopsy report,” he clarified his tone laced with a chilling edge. A twisted smile played on his lips, the sinister glint in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. It was a reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath his polished exterior.

With that final unsettling gesture, he exited, leaving you alone with the weight of his demands.

[ginnsbaker]

This commentary is everything to me 🤭😭

it's just dinner

Summary: Another installment from the Dentist AU, sequel to the follow up; You and Wanda enjoy a quiet dinner at your home--or so you thought

Word count: 3k | Tags: Fluff, Some Blood (lol), Wanda being clumsy

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Author's note: There will be one more installment after this. It's been really fun writing something so wholesome :)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

-

Wanda Maximoff is breaking up with you.

Before you two are even an item.

And the first date hasn't even finished yet.

Two hours earlier

Every attempt at a date with Wanda Maximoff is a tragicomic misadventure.

The first attempt was promising: a quaint dinner at a hidden gem of a restaurant. Yet, on that very day, your apartment's plumbing decided to rebel, turning your living space into a mini lake. You remember Wanda's sympathetic chuckle on the phone, suggesting a rain check. The next date was set, but it still wasn’t in the cards. Just as you were picking out a shirt, Wanda’s phone buzzed. An urgent mission. She sent an apologetic message, punctuated with a little red-faced emoji. “Next time,” she promised.

Your third attempt seemed foolproof. A coffee date, something short and sweet. Yet, irony dripped as you got a call from the dental clinic. An emergency extraction that couldn't wait. As you gloved up, you couldn’t help but think of the universe’s odd sense of humor.

(Maybe it's trying to send a message, and you've been too stubborn to listen.)

But resilience is your middle name. So, here's attempt number four.

A cozy dinner and a film at your place. Simple. No grand expectations. If, by chance, this date still falls through, at least you're already home. Your bed awaits, just steps away, to provide solace for any potential disappointments.

As the clock ticks closer to the agreed-upon time, you arrange the table, blending classic dinnerware with contemporary accents. Wine glasses shimmer under the subdued lights, their elegant curves catching the candle's dance. The gentle melodies of a classical piano accompany the inviting aroma of the goulash, creating a setting that might just captivate Wanda's heart.

Not that you’re already aiming for her heart. That'd be rushing things, wouldn't it? Only a week ago, you and Wanda were each wary of the other—you, daunted by her powers, and her, intimidated by, well, you.

A mere dentist.

In your bedroom, you've changed outfits multiple times, finally choosing one that finds the right balance between casual and slightly dressy. Every detail matters, from the watch you're wearing to the cologne you've spritzed.

Sure, there's a hint of anxiety, but above all, you're buzzing with anticipation. You can picture it—Wanda's appreciative smile as she digs into the goulash, both of you snuggled up during the movie, and then chatting about everything and nothing as you both start to get sleepy.

Your phone buzzes, snapping you back to the present. You see a message from Wanda: “On my way. Can't wait!” accompanied by a heart emoji. Your spirits rise instantly. You send a silent plea to every god out there who’s watching, hoping for no more mishaps tonight.

Time seems to move both too slow and too fast. Every tiny noise from outside makes you jump, wondering if it's her arrival. You go over your preparations one more time: the temperature of the goulash, the volume of the music, the soft glow of the candles.

A soft knock sounds at your door. The moment has arrived. Your heart races as you move to answer it, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You open the door, and there she stands—Wanda Maximoff, perhaps the most powerful Avenger, clad in skin-tight jeans, a long coat over her shoulders and the same nervous smile you’re wearing right now.

“Hi,” she murmurs softly, that European lilt making it sound almost musical.

“Hey, Wanda,” your voice quivers ever so slightly. “Please, come in.”

She steps inside, and you instinctively reach out, helping her slip off the long coat. The soft fabric is warm from her body heat, and you can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you suggest with a gesture towards the plush sofa. She gracefully obliges, her eyes scanning the room.

She takes a moment, head tilted ever so slightly, her nose twitching as it picks up on the scent wafting from the kitchen. “Is that... goulash I smell?” she says, eyes twinkling in delight.

A pleased chuckle escapes you. “Someone's got a good nose.”

In the midst of tweaking the table's placements, you're painfully conscious of every inch of space between you and her. Wanda Maximoff, right in your apartment, seated gracefully on your sofa. The room temperature is already set at the lowest, but you feel unexpectedly warm in your clothes. 

You take a few deep breaths. Center. Ground. Every preparation led to this moment.

Distracted by your own thoughts, you almost miss the soft rustling from the living room. Wanda's eyes are now fixed on the elegantly wrapped gift resting on your coffee table. The parchment paper, crinkled just right, holds a tag with her name in your neat handwriting.

She arches an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “For me?” she asks, her finger running over her name on the tag.

“Uh, yes,” you stammer, feeling a flush creep up your neck. “I thought...well, it's our first, you know, date... and I wanted to get you something.”

She gives you a soft, appreciative smile, her fingers deftly unwrapping the gift. The sight of the Sokovian cookbook draws a genuine, surprised chuckle from her. “You really did your homework,” she teases.

“You're worth the effort,” the words slip out before you can reign them in, and suddenly the room feels a few degrees warmer. But Wanda doesn't seem to mind. In fact, she seems... pleased.

“The jasmine rice will be ready in just a few minutes,” you mention, as you drape the apron on a hook by the kitchen entrance. Deep breaths, you remind yourself. It's just dinner. With Wanda Maximoff. No pressure.

You then make your way to join her on the sofa, deliberately choosing a spot that's comfortably distant. Not too close to be presumptuous, but not too far to seem distant. Or so you think.

However, Wanda doesn't let the spacing go unnoticed. “Why are you sitting all the way over there?” she asks with a playful pout.

You blink, momentarily lost for words. “Oh, I just... thought I'd give you some space?”

Wanda smirks, tilting her head slightly, “You're sweet, but you can sit a bit closer if you'd like.”

Swallowing your nerves, you slide a tad bit closer, closing the gap. Now, your knees are almost touching. The proximity introduces you to more intricate details: the scent of her perfume, the subtle shadow on her lids, the faint tint on her lips.

She leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Much better, don't you think?”

You gulp, trying to swallow down your body’s reaction to her voice. “Yes,” you breathe out, attempting to find your bearings again. “Definitely better.”

“So,” Wanda starts, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “How does someone like you end up as a dentist?”

“Well, my dad was one. After high school, I honestly didn't have a clear path in mind.” You shrug, your gaze distant as you recollect. “It was kind of a 'fall into the family business' scenario.”

“But do you enjoy it? Being a dentist, I mean.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if I made the right choice,” you confess, a far-off look in your eyes. “I had other hobbies—gardening, painting. There was a time when I thought of diving into the arts.”

“But you didn't?”

You shake your head. “Practicality won over passion, I guess. Dentistry is stable, and I do like it.”

She studies you for a moment. “Do you ever regret it?”

You ponder for a second, thinking about all the what-ifs and could-have-beens. But then, your eyes find Wanda's, and a smile creeps onto your face. “Well, being a dentist did allow our paths to cross. So, in that sense, I can't really complain, can I?”

Wanda's cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink, the faint blush enhancing her striking features.

You’re not entirely sure how you’ve survived so far on this date.

Clearing your throat to ease the building tension, you attempt to shift the topic. “Speaking of paths, how did you end up becoming an Avenger? If you don't mind me asking.”

Wanda's expression quickly darkens, and an immediate regret washes over you. You wish you could retract your question, hating the thought of being the one to bring such sadness to her eyes.

Wanda tells you her story with a distant look in her eyes, like she's replaying a bad dream. She tells you about the Battle of Sokovia, how she lost her twin brother in the midst of it, and how she felt totally alone afterward. With no family or close friends left, she ended up with the Avengers. At first it was a choice of convenience, but she soon started to think of them as her new family.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” you say, not knowing what else to say. You’ve never experienced such pain and loss, especially with your parents and sister living in different states, leading their own lives.

“Thank you,” she whispers, the edges of her eyes glistening. “It's... difficult. Sometimes more than others.”

The soft beep of the rice cooker slices through the heavy atmosphere. You turn towards the kitchen, then back to Wanda, offering an apologetic smile. “Looks like the rice is ready,” you mention, almost sheepishly.

She laughs softly at your politeness and says, “Good. I’m starving.”

-

Wanda Maximoff has a big appetite.

This becomes amusingly clear when she polishes off her plate and shyly requests more rice, eventually consuming the entire portion you'd prepared for the evening. Honestly, you hadn't anticipated this outcome, especially since you weren't entirely sure how goulash was supposed to taste. But seeing Wanda devour nearly all of it not only boosts your confidence in your cooking but also in how the date is progressing.

Honestly, it's been ages since you've been on a date. You keep wracking your brain for topics, wondering if you're saying the right things. But thankfully, it's Wanda who takes the lead, her inquiries steering the chat in various directions. And each time she poses a question, that unique Sokovian accent of hers tugs at you, almost hypnotic. With every word, every soft-spoken syllable, you can feel yourself being drawn closer into Wanda's magnetic pull. It's both exhilarating and terrifying—mostly because you're not sure if you ever want to resist.

Just as you're about to suggest some movies to watch, Wanda's phone rings. You watch her facial expression shift slightly as she answers, her tone professional and measured. “I understand. I'll be right there in an hour,” she says, ending the call and turning to you with a regretful look.

At least you both got through a nice meal. Still, you’re a little disappointed.

“It's the compound. I've got to head back soon. Not an urgent situation, but...” Wanda trails off, her eyes reflecting her regret.

“How long do we have left together?” you ask, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice.

“About thirty minutes?” Wanda estimates. She then glances at the aftermath of your dinner, “Let me help you clean up.”

“You really don't have to.”

“It's easy. I can just use my powers,” she says, beaming a little proudly.

“I’m intrigued,” you say.

The idea of seeing her powers up close excites you, but as she begins to wave her hand, intending to levitate the dishes, something goes wrong. A misdirected wave of her magic, perhaps due to her eyes being trained on you as she watches your every reaction, causes a sharp knife from the counter to fly towards you. You only realize what's happening when you feel a sting on your arm.

Blood starts to seep through your shirt and Wanda's eyes widen in horror. “Oh my god, I didn't mean to... I'm so sorry,” she stammers, her face pale.

You look down, trying to assess the damage. It's not too deep, but it's definitely more than a scratch.

“Don't worry, it was just an accident,” you reassure her, but the sharp pain suggests you might need medical attention.

Wanda immediately wraps your wound with a clean towel and offers to take you to the hospital. It's quite the unexpected turn for your first date, and as the evening winds down with you in a hospital room, getting stitches, you can't help but chuckle at the situation.

Wanda's face, however, is a picture of raw concern, which to be frank, you find endearing, albeit in a dire context. She stays uncharacteristically silent, her expressive eyes darting between the cut on your arm and the sterile surroundings of the hospital room.

“Hey,” you break the silence, “Talk to me.”

“You know... maybe it's best if we don't see each other again,” she begins, hesitantly. “It's just the first date, and I've already sent you to the hospital.”

Wanda Maximoff is breaking up with you.

Before you two are even an item.

And the first date hasn't even finished yet.

And you’ve yet to kiss her. 

(You really, really want to.)

“You can't break up with me,” you blurt out.

She looks bewildered, “Why not?”

“Because,” you smirk, wincing a bit as the doctor tightens a stitch, “We're not together. Yet. And if this is your way of getting out of a second date, you're going to have to try harder.”

She looks at you, searching your face as if trying to discern whether you're joking or not. But you're serious. Deadly serious. 

Then an idea comes to her. “Fine, then I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“What–”

“I mean, if we're doing this, it's so I can properly end—”

“No,” you say, your smile widening, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “Wanda Maximoff, I don’t want to be your girlfriend.”

Her expression grows more solemn, her tone somber. “You need to understand. Being with me is nowhere near normal. I’m dangerous. Everything around me, everything I deal with—it's all dangerous.”

The smile doesn’t leave your lips. “I understand,” you say, “But I still refuse to be your girlfriend.”

“You don’t give up do you?”

“Ask me again on our second date,” you suggest, nodding appreciatively at the doctor to subtly hint it's time for him to leave, as he’s been watching you both fall into each other a bit too long now.

“And I can’t have you blasting ‘Lips of an Angel’ throughout the compound if we call it quits now, can I?” 

Wanda's eyes widen in horror, her hands flying to her face. “How did you even know about that?”

“Vision,” you chuckle. At this point, you’ve totally lost it for this girl. “He sent me a message, thanking me on behalf of Natasha for finally getting you to switch off that track.”

Wanda groans, her face still partially hidden behind her hands. “I can't believe he did that. I'm never going to hear the end of it now.”

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, leaning in closer. “I think it’s adorable.”

Still, Wanda remains quiet, and even though she’s the one who can read minds, you can hear just how loud her thoughts are. Gently, you grasp her hand and stand, pulling her up with you.

“What are we doing?”

“I’ve been patched up,” you note, motioning to your arm. “I’d rather not end our date inside a hospital. Come on.”

-

You insist on driving her back to the compound, despite Wanda's deep concern that you’d be able to handle a stick shift given your recent injury. However, after teasingly reminding her that she’s technically "in debt" for the unintentional knife incident, she finally gives in.

You really just don’t want the night to end with her simply walking away.

And while the two of you bickered over the technicality that Wanda can't really break up with you, there's an underlying fear in you that perhaps this might be the last time you see her.

The drive ends up being a quick one, and in just fifteen minutes, you’re pulling up the compound’s spacious driveway.

Both of you sit there for what seems like an eternity, neither willing to make the first move. Your heart races, beating loudly in your chest, as you keep stealing glances at Wanda, trying to read her expression.

“I... um... had a good time tonight, despite the… yeah,” you stammer out, trying to fill the silence. “Thank you for being there, Wanda.”

She nods, lips parting as if she's about to say something but doesn't. “Thank you for the meal and the cookbook,” she finally says, her voice soft, almost fragile. “And I'm really sorry about your arm.”

“You're welcome, Wanda,” you reply, your heart heavy in your chest.

She offers a small smile, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes, and opens the car door. For a fleeting second, the thought of pulling her back crosses your mind, but you squash it down, not wanting to push your luck. As she steps out, you hope for a 'see you soon' or even just a casual 'later'. But nothing comes. And with a quiet thud, the door closes behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You rest your forehead against the steering wheel, mentally kicking yourself for letting Wanda do the dishes. Maybe none of this would've happened, and she might still be looking forward to another date. You're so lost in your ‘what-ifs’ that you almost miss the sound of hurried footsteps approaching.

Suddenly, the passenger door swings open, and before you can react, Wanda is back inside. She leans over the center console, gently cradling your face with one hand and pulling you into a soft, tentative kiss. 

It's over in a heartbeat, leaving you both breathless.

She pulls away slightly, cheeks flushed, and her eyes brighter. “I didn't want to leave things like that,” she admits.

You smile, still in shock from the unexpected moment. “I'm glad you didn't,” you say, leaning in for another kiss.

Even if Wanda had thrown every knife in the room at you, it would still rank as the best date ever.

[thenatashamaximoff]

Broken Love; Ch. 8

Summary: You and Natasha break up after finding out about her secret affair. Wanda’s there to comfort you.

Pairing: Natasha x Reader; Wanda x Reader

Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of death

Words: 8,951

✎ | ❦

Please keep in mind that this is a reimagined version of Dangerous Love and it goes a completely different route. Please do not expect anything to be the same aside from the love triangle aspect. I hope you enjoy!

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“You’re not going to win,” you claimed, breathing out heavily. He stared down at you from his spot at the top of the hill, rocks crumbling around you as the ground shook. The lava pooling around you nipped at your heels, but you held no concern for the molten liquid as your hands clenched into fists by your sides. “This world… It’s going to crash and burn. And it’s too late for you to save it, Iron Man.”

He lifted his arm up, his gauntlet as bright as the eyes of his helmet. “I didn’t want to do this,” he declared, shaking his head softly, “but you left me no choice.” The high-pitched squeal of his repulsors reached your ears, and your eyes widened as he jumped off of the hill…

You were pulled back into reality, your arms stretched wide to bring the little boy into your arms as his giggles echoed through the room. You huffed as you looked at him through his little toy helmet, cradling him against your hip as you used your free hand to move the mask off of his face. 

“You caught me, mommy!” he laughed, wrapping his arms around your neck to steady himself. “I knew you would.” He flashed you a toothy grin, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly as you shook your head. 

“Of course, sweetie,” you stated. “I’ll always catch you.” You plopped him onto the ground, taking the toy off of his head gently as you sent him a warm smile. “But let’s not jump off the top of the stairs again, okay? It’s dangerous.”

“But I’m Iron Man!” he expressed. “I live for danger!”

“Oh, yeah?” He nodded with a proud smile, large swoops of his chin up and down with smug confidence. You pulled the elastic band around your head, positioning the mask over your face as you looked down at him through the slim eye holes. “I’m Iron Man now.”

“No!” he squealed, laughing as he started to run away from you. Your movements were instinct, chasing after him into the other room, zipping around the corner only to come to a halt when you saw a pair of legs through the mask. You cleared your throat, ripping the toy off of your head as you met her green gaze, an amused smile tugging the corner of her lips with her arms crossed over her chest. The little boy hid behind her legs, looking at you with a grin of victory.

“I hope the two of you are having fun,” she said, raising an eyebrow with mock curiosity, “because we’re late.” She looked down at the boy, running a hand through his short hair as she said, “Go get cleaned up, T.”

“Yes, mama.” He stepped away from her, sending you that smug grin once more as he left the room. You laughed softly as you placed the toy down, running a hand down your face and around your neck to grip the back of it, looking down as you chewed the inside of your cheek.

“Hey…” She stepped towards you, bringing your face into the palms of her hands gently. Your head lifted at her touch, meeting her warm gaze as she smiled lightly at you. A thin layer of tears covered your eyes, biting your cheek harder to fight against the urge to cry. 

“I don’t think I can do it,” you said, your voice a low whisper.

“I know it’s hard. Just because so much time has passed doesn't make it any easier, but I’m here for you, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded against her hands, breathing in softly as you said, “Promise?”

“I promise.” Her smile was warm and kind, it caused your stomach to twist as you stepped closer to her.

“I love you, Nat.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

You leaned forward, your lips just mere centimeters away from hers to the point where you could feel them brush against each other, but the moment was quickly interrupted when a small human squeezed himself in between the two of you, cutting you off from her as he expressed his readiness to leave. Natasha laughed when you rolled your eyes, ruffling the boy’s hair as you said, “Alright.” You reached for Natasha’s hand, meeting her loving gaze once more as she accepted it. “Let’s get this over with.”

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You peeked through the curtain, eyes wide as you looked at the number of people in attendance. Reporters mainly filled the first two or three rows, while everybody else was simply there for the service. Monitors hanging around the room held the Avengers logo. What was once a symbol of hope was now only a memory of loss.

You felt your stomach twist uncomfortably, nausea working its way through your body as you swallowed your mouthful of saliva harshly. But when you saw your little boy at the front of the crowd, talking Dr. Woods’s ear off, you felt a bit better. Even so, you had to force yourself away from the view, turning your back as the curtain swished close behind you. You ran your hands down your thighs in an attempt to rid the sweat building on your palms, but it didn’t seem to work no matter how many times you wiped them.

“Are you okay?” Steve stepped up to you, his arms crossed tautly over his chest as he raised an eyebrow at you. His face was filled with concern. Was it that obvious you weren’t?

“I am fine,” you lied, nodding as you shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s just, y’know… the one-year anniversary of the day we lost everything.”

He pursed his lips together, moving his arms to grip his hips as he said, “To lose everything you had grants you everything you need.” You couldn’t help but scoff, yet you did manage to fight the urge to roll your eyes at his fortune cookie quote. He was only trying to help ease your nerves, and - though it wasn’t doing anything to make you feel better - you were grateful for his attempt.

A woman stepped up to you before you could make a comment. “You’re all up.” She gestured towards the curtain, sending you both a soft, pitiful smile as you turned back around to face the music. “Good luck.”

You sucked in a deep breath, shaking your hands as the curtain parted in front of you. Natasha was already on the stage, sitting in one of the three seats lined up behind the podium. Her eyes were that same loving warmth she displayed earlier, and it helped ease your stomach as you made your way to her. She reached for your hand, giving you a comforting squeeze when you met her as the flashes of the cameras started going off the moment you stepped into view. “We’re just going to say some things and then we can go,” she whispered into your ear. She, too, was trying to ease your nerves, but the judging gaze of everybody in the crowd seemed to lock onto you.

Your stomach started doing nauseating flips once more.

You sat down next to Natasha, refusing to release her hand as Steve took a spot at the podium. He cleared his throat, tapping his finger gently against the microphone as he laughed nervously. All eyes were on him now, giving you a moment of reprieve as you leaned against the Russian, listening carefully as the patriot began his speech.

“One year.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, averting your gaze to your occupied hands. “On this very day one year ago, we were unfortunate to witness the fall of the Avengers. Today will be known as Avengers Day.” Pictures of the people you had always felt privileged to call family illuminated the monitors as Steve continued, “Clint Barton. Tony Stark. Bruce Banner. Pepper Potts. Wanda Maximoff. These are just a few names of the many lives lost that day.” Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the screen displaying Wanda’s photograph. Her big smile, her shining eyes. Your best friend, how close the two of you had gotten throughout the years.

You were so transfixed by the image that you hadn’t realized Steve’s speech was finished until Natasha released your hand. You looked at her, distress glinting in your irises, but it was ultimately subsided by the small smile she was sending you. She was gesturing for you to step up to the podium as it was your turn to give a speech, and you were hesitant to do such a thing. Though you had practiced your speech a million times in the mirror after hearing about the event, all of it managed to disappear in your mind as you cleared your throat into the microphone.

“Hello,” you expressed softly, squeezing the edge of the wooden podium. Yet the next time you opened your mouth, not a single word could be heard. You could see everybody’s eyes piercing through you as if you were just… nothing. But you looked over, meeting the bright, hopeful gaze of your little boy, watching his face stretch out into a smile as he held up a thumb. You returned his grin before looking back to the crowd, feeling a bit more confident than you did five seconds ago. “Today’s just a grave reminder of all the people we’ve lost. And we’re here to honor the lives of-” 

“May I interrupt?” Your eyes landed on the source of the voice - a young woman had stood up, holding a pen and paper as she flashed you a cocky smirk. “Hello, Mrs. Romanoff.” Your gaze averted down to your left hand, staring at the ring as the reporter continued, “Karen Delroy from the Times. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” You picked your head up at her question, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. You weren’t informed that you were going to be interviewed, that you were just coming in to make a speech on behalf of the fallen and then you were more than welcome to leave. But, considering you couldn’t really recollect your entire speech to begin with, you figured this was your way out of making yourself look like a fool in trying to remember.

“I don’t see why not,” you expressed softly, nodding as you gestured for her to carry on with a hand.

“What do you remember?” She held her pen poised over the notepad, prepared to write down whatever words came out of your mouth.

“Oh, well… I-I remember all of it,” you claimed. “I remember the…” But you trailed off, eyebrows pinching together with confusion once more as you looked down. Your eyes squeezed shut, nerves causing your body to shiver. You had to think. Remember. You had to remember.

“Y/N?” Natasha’s voice was low behind you, a soft whisper so the rest of the room wouldn’t hear, but you chose to ignore her calls.

Remember.

“Maybe we should put an end to this,” Steve suggested just as quietly.

Just remember.

“Just think, detka, it’s okay.”

I don’t remember.

“Why don’t I remember?” you asked faintly, eyes wide as you looked back at the woman. Dread struck you when you saw the brown in her eyes glow an ominous purple as she seemingly stared right through you. But, within the next blink, her eyes went back to normal yet the fear that floated in your veins remained. Everything in your brain told you to move, to walk away, but nothing in your body was listening. You were frozen to your spot at the podium, a ball forming in your throat threatening to take away your ability to breathe. Your grip on the podium tightened, causing your knuckles to turn bone white. You can’t remember…

“How did you defeat the Matriarch?” Your eyes snapped onto another person - it seemed to be the only part of your body that was capable of moving - to witness an older man standing up with a microphone aimed towards you. “Lyle Davies, Channel 6. Wanda Maximoff had converted to the Church of Truth as their Matriarch when the Avengers Tower collapsed. You had a pretty close relationship with her according to my sources. Even got to the point of intimacy.” He grinned smugly, proud to have known that much information. “So, how did you manage to take her down?”

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening.

“You seem to be having difficulty recollecting the downfall of the Avengers, Mrs. Romanoff.” Another reporter stood up, not even bothering with the introductions at this point. 

You shook your head, soft, subtle movements that could only be seen if one was paying close attention and, surely, everybody in the room was.

“Do you even remember how they died?” It was another reporter, another question, yet the voice was familiar. You could pinpoint that Sokovian accent at a concert if you were so inclined to. Your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for her face. Searching for any sign that she was here, in the same room as you, living and breathing and not lying six feet under the surface. But you couldn’t find her. And it only seemed to overwhelm you, the combination of flashing lights from snapping cameras and reporters who seemed to have no more room for manners as they started overlapping each other to ask their own questions. You couldn’t even make out what they were asking, and her voice was no longer ringing in your ears.

“Come on.” Natasha’s breath fanned across the side of your cheek as she whispered into your ear, feeling her hands fall onto your shoulders as she started to guide you away from the interrogation. Steve didn’t hesitate to take your place, his hands in the air in an attempt to calm the crowd as you disappeared behind the curtain.

“I can’t remember, Nat,” you expressed, panic only causing that knot in your gut to tighten. You stopped walking to turn around, eyes wide with fright. Was this a dream? You could only hope it is, interlocking your fingers behind your neck as you tried to control your breathing. “Why can’t I remember!”

“Y/N-”

“What happened to Wanda?” Your eyes snapped onto hers within an instant. 

“She was the Matriarch, Y/N,” Natasha explained calmly. She stepped closer to you, bringing your face gently into her hands as you moved to grip her wrists softly. “The Church got to her. And her powers combined with theirs… It made her a worthy candidate to become the Matriarch.” She sighed, a breath full of sorrow as her thumbs made gentle circles across your cheekbones.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening one last time, causing you to break out of Natasha’s comforting hold to get to the nearest trashcan to dispose of whatever was in your gut. Sickness drove through you like a river, goosebumps crawling up your body as you sank to your knees. Sobs wracked your chest, fingers clenched at your head. 

It didn’t feel like much time has passed before you were staring at the ceiling in the comfort of your own home. Whatever happened between the event to now was all a blur. But the queasiness that lingered in you remained to the point where Natasha made you keep a bucket next to you.

The door creaked open slowly after what felt like an eternity of being stuck in your thoughts. You didn’t find the energy to pick your head up to look at whoever was entering the room, the footsteps were quiet as they made their way to you. “Mommy?” It was an instinct, ignoring the fatigue plaguing your body to give your child the attention he demanded.

“Yes, T?” 

“Mama said you needed some alone time because you’re not feeling good,” he claimed, standing at the edge of your bed as his fingers twiddled together nervously. “But when I get sick… You’re always there to hold me and that makes me feel better.” You couldn’t stop the smile from twitching your lips, lifting an arm up to signal that he was more than welcome to join you on the bed. And he didn’t hesitate to do so, climbing onto the mattress and crawling over to you so he could cuddle into your side. Though as much as you enjoyed the silence and cuddling, his voice was always music to your ears. “You named me after Iron Man, right?”

“And Hawkeye,” you confirmed. “Anthony Barton Romanoff.” You smiled, staring up at the ceiling as his eyes trained on you. “Some of the most amazing people me and mama have ever known.” You tilted your head down to meet his gaze. 

He ran a finger up and down the sleeve of your shirt, chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment before he asked, “How did they die?”

“They were in the Avengers Tower when it fell, sweetheart,” you answered, your voice a soft whisper as if you were fearful to speak any louder than that. 

“Why did the tower fall?”

“That-” Your voice caught in your throat as memories flashed through your mind, how terrified the woman looked as you held up a small device, the vision shrouded in a faint, purple glow. Your eyebrows pinched together, head tilting to the side as you blinked yourself back to the present. “That was the Church’s doing.”

“You survived the fall,” he claimed, beaming brightly. “You and mama.” You nodded, smiling sadly as you looked back at him. “I’m glad you did. I don’t want a different family.” You breathed out slowly, your stomach lurching in your chest when that ominous, purple glow returned to color your boy’s eyes. 

Panic took over your body, causing you to quickly climb out of the bed and stagger away from him as confusion painted his features. “I… I don’t…”

“Mommy?” He sat up on his knees, his bottom lip quivering as you shook your head. He watched you carefully, no trace of purple remained in his eyes. But you weren’t willing to take the risk, keeping your distance from him as you pressed your back against the wall.

Laughter emitted from your throat in a humorless tone, realization dawning on you as your eyes snapped onto Anthony’s. You didn’t win. No. No, the Church was still alive. They were laying low, poisoning the world one person at a time. You should’ve caught onto it earlier, seeing the reporter’s eyes glow the color that’ll forever haunt your dreams. How quick the moment was, how smooth and undercover. Nobody would be the wiser as they all carried on with their day. But your mind didn’t make the connection at the time. Now… They have control of him. Your boy. “Let him go,” you pleaded softly, your head moving side to side very subtly.

“Mommy, you’re scaring me.”

You moved forward, pointing a finger at him. “Why are you here?” Your voice came out low, dangerous through clenched teeth. Your pupils narrowed with an anger Anthony has never seen on you before, your steps quiet and steady like a predator stalking its prey. 

“It’s me!” he cried, his face red with tears as you gripped his shoulders. “It’s me, mommy! It’s your T!”

“Leave him alone!”

“You’re hurting me!” Sobs erupted from his throat, and it was in that instance that a force pushed you away. 

Natasha stood in front of him protectively, her green eyes narrowed onto you as you staggered backward, still reeling from the strength of her push. “What are you doing?” Her voice, just like yours, was low and dangerous. Only hers was a lot more threatening than you could ever dream of being. “That is our child.” She was eerily calm, yet you weren’t oblivious to the hidden tone in her words.

“No,” you claimed, shaking your head. “They’re still out there. They- They got to him. They’re taking our child away from us! That” - you pointed at the kid who looked like your boy, but you knew better - “is not Anthony.”

The Russian crossed her arms over her chest, her jaw tight, her stance set. “What is going on with you, Y/N?”

“Please, Nat.” Your voice was still low, but it was pleading now. You needed her to see the truth before they won this silent war. “The Church is alive.”

“The Church has been gone for a year,” she said. “We got rid of them. They’re not possessing anybody. And they’re certainly not taking our boy. He is still T.” She was calmer now than she was five seconds ago after seeing the genuine fear in your eyes. Her shoulders relaxed, and her protective stance crumbled as she took a small step toward you. “Don’t you remember how happy we were the day we brought him home?”

You blinked at her question, eyebrows furrowed tightly together as you straightened your form. “I…” You tried to convince yourself to recall the day you had adopted the little boy, even if it was made up, yet the memory of what should be a joyous, memorable day was lost on you. Any good parent could tell you the story of their child coming into their life - adopted or not - but you were finding difficulty in doing just that. Your heart started playing drums on your ribcage as you stared at Natasha. “I don’t remember,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Why can’t I remember?” 

The memories of important events were nothing but black holes in your mind. Avengers Day, Anthony’s adoption, your… wedding. Natasha in a wedding gown surely would’ve made a permanent home in your brain, yet you got nothing.

It was during your mental battle in trying to remember that Natasha turned to whisper something to Anthony before he ran out of the room as fast as his little legs could carry him. But you couldn’t care about whatever it was she sent him to do as you made eye contact with her once again, pupils wide with panic. “I can’t remember, Nat,” you whispered, your nose burning as tears threatened your vision. Her face softened as she took one more step to you, bringing your hands into hers as she breathed out softly. “I can’t remember. I can’t remember. Why-”

“You’re just tired, detka,” she said gently, a warm smile tugging her lips as she moved one of her hands to rest against your cheek. You leaned into her touch, your eyes fluttering close allowed you to feel just how truly exhausted you were. “This day was very stressful, I know. It brought back so many memories that we all just wished to forget.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, shaking your head against her palm as a tear slipped through your eyelid to crawl down your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“Come on.” She used the hold on one of your hands to tug you back to the bed. “I’ll take T out for dinner and you can apologize to him when we get back.” She smiled at you as your eyes fluttered open, nodding your head as you sat down. “But, in the meantime, you get some rest.” She planted a soft, warm kiss against your forehead, giving your hand a squeeze before slowly walking out of the room, flicking the light off as she closed the door behind her.

But, instead of doing as she said and closing your eyes to get some much-needed sleep, you waited. You held your breath, straining your ears to listen to the front door open and close. Followed by the sound of the car starting and driving off. You were on your feet in an instant, leaving the bedroom and stepping into the living room. You eyed the framed photos lined up on the fireplace, but none of them triggered any memories for you. No, they all just felt as if they were planted here. As if they were… fake. Just photos of you, Natasha, and Anthony at a studio with different backgrounds and different clothes.

They could’ve been taken on the same day.

You found yourself making your way to a closet sitting next to the kitchen, only used mostly for storing cleaning supplies such as brooms and vacuums, but lingering at the top of the small cubicle was a photo album sitting on top of the shelf. After moving the necessary things to achieve your goal, you had the book in your hands within a few minutes. But flipping through the pages only caused the panic that had settled at the pit of your stomach to grow once more. No photos of your wedding. No photos of your friends. Not even any photos of your days as an Avenger. Just the same type of pictures that sat on your fireplace mantel. Different backgrounds. Different clothes. Yet the same smile in every single one.

“Hello?” You had a broom in your hand within mere seconds, aiming the point of it at whoever entered your home unannounced. You huffed when you met Dr. Woods’s eye, his hands in the air as the pole of the cleaning supply dug into his throat. “A little on edge, are we?” He laughed, though it was a nervous sound as you returned everything to the closet, including the photo album.

“Why are you here, Woods?” you questioned, turning away from him to make your way into the kitchen.

“Tony called me,” he answered. “He was pretty hysterical on the phone, I barely understood him.” He let out a long, hefty breath as you grabbed a cup from the cabinet. “Do you want to-”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you claimed, running the faucet to fill up your glass. “I was tired. That’s all there is to know.”

“You think the Church is back.” It wasn’t a question, you knew that. And your grip on the edge of the counter only tightened as you turned the faucet off a bit too harshly. “What’d you do yesterday?” You turned around to look at him, leaning against the counter and ultimately ignoring your glass of water left in the sink. “I’m not here as your shrink, Y/N. Just consider it two friends catching up.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, your eyes staring at him as you thought about yesterday. It was a simple question, one that should hold an even simpler answer… So why were you having so much trouble giving him one? Even going as far as making something up would please the doctor. You chewed the inside of your cheek, your shoulders falling as you were forced to face the issue at hand.

“Okay,” you stated, stepping towards him. “I don’t remember.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he questioned.

“This morning,” you answered. “I played with Tony-”

“Before that,” he interrupted.

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders carelessly as you worked your brain. “Uh…” You blew air out between your lips, sounding a bit like a motorboat before finally confessing the truth. “I remember watching the news,” you said.

“That’s good,” he expressed, nodding in approval.

“Wanda revealed herself to be the Matriarch.”

“O-kay… Not good.” He watched you carefully, resting his hands on his hips as you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Nothing is making sense, Woods,” you claimed. “Why are there no actual pictures? W-Why can’t I remember key dates like my own wedding? It’s like I was just… planted here. Like I’m… I’m living someone else’s life.”

“What do you remember before that?” he asked, and he shrugged when you met his gaze. “I’m curious.”

“Waking up in your house after the collapse.”

“Before that.”

You huffed, turning away from him and furrowing your eyebrows as you rubbed the back of your neck. Your eyes fluttered close, sucking in a deep breath and giving yourself a moment to actually think. There was the explosion, traces of purple floating through your memories as you watched Natasha’s eyes change, succumbing to the Promise once again. “Natasha stabbed me.”

“During your fight with the Church,” he claimed, nodding as you turned back to look at him. “She told me about that. Honestly, I thought you were a goner, but, damn.” He laughed lightly, causing you to raise a curious brow at him, silently questioning what he found so humorous. “You’re like a boomerang, Y/N. You keep coming back…”

“You’re like my boomerang, Y/N.” You turned your head to look at her, meeting her gaze with curiosity. Her dazzling green eyes shined brighter than any light that has ever existed, causing your stomach to twist with warmth and fuzziness. “You keep coming back to me.”

You laughed softly, leaning forward slightly as you asked, “What do you mean?”

“I tried to move on. Many times.” Her smile held a hint of sadness, and you fought the urge to reach out to her. “Maybe I’m just bad at letting you go. Maybe because, every time you leave, I lose a little piece of me.”

There was a heavy fist coming from the front door, pulling you out of her mesmerizing gaze to look up at the ceiling. You said nothing, but you felt an uncomfortable pressure against your chest as his voice seemed to echo through the house, reaching the bedroom, begging the woman laying next to you for a second chance. Yet you both ignored it as she rolled over, draping her arm gently across your shoulders as you instinctively wrapped your hand around hers.

“Y/N?” You blinked yourself out of the past, furrowing your eyebrows to see Woods snapping his fingers in front of your face. He took a respectful step back as he cleared his throat, though his gaze held interest as his eyes lingered on you. “Where’d you go?”

“I…” You huffed, replaying that moment in your head over and over again. The moment felt real, genuine. You could remember the feeling of the heat radiating from her body as if it had just happened yesterday. The kisses, the touches, the way she whispered your name in your ear breathlessly. Wanda… You’re not dead, are you? “I don’t know…”

Why was the memory so much different than the others? Why did it feel more authentic?

“I don’t need a shrink,” you claimed, pulling yourself out of your mind before you spiraled even further in front of the doctor. “I just need something to eat and some sleep.” You turned away from him, pulling open the refrigerator as you stared at the contents inside. Yet, you didn’t move to grab anything. 

“I can’t help you if you won’t let me,” Woods claimed, but you didn’t look at him as you continued to stand in front of the opened fridge, chewing the inside of your cheek. You could hear him sigh, defeated. “You know my number if you decide to want my help.”

You listened to his footsteps depart, and then released your hold on the refrigerator, allowing the door to swing shut.

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Laughter could be heard throughout the house, drawing you out of your dreamless slumber. You released a soft sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter close once more. Though you knew there was no more sleep you were going to get today, you were going to allow yourself to lay in this comfort for a bit longer.

Yet the more you stayed there, the more your mind wandered. Trying to decipher the memories your brain was conjuring up, stuck in this endless loop of uncertainty. And you were half-expecting to see Wanda when you rolled over, huffing as you run your hands down your face. You could hear her voice, a distant whisper in the back of your mind. Her warm laugh echoing in your head. Her death - though so long ago - felt as if it were fresh.

Just like everything else.

It took you a moment, but you finally managed to force yourself out of bed to follow the heartwarming giggling to the kitchen. There you could find your family sitting at the kitchen table, a couple of mugs and a plate of cookies sitting in front of them. Natasha met your gaze the second you appeared at the doorway, her smile slightly fading away as she watched you with wariness. You didn’t blame her. You held a sense of caution with yourself. Especially around Anthony. 

“Hey.” Your voice was soft as you entered the room, yet it earned Anthony’s attention either way. He shot you a wide smile from his seat, his legs kicking underneath the table as he showed you the same love he always does... As if your whole episode last night didn’t happen at all.

“Hi, mommy,” he said. “Mama’s letting me have Oreos for breakfast.” He chuckled happily as he reached for another cookie, and you smiled lightly as he popped the entire thing into his mouth. 

“I don’t think we raised him right, Y/N,” Natasha claimed, earning a muffled giggle from Anthony. “He’s just eating the entire Oreo at once…”

“Did you just eat an entire Oreo at once like a heathen?” Her light laughter echoed in your head.

“I’ve been eating Oreos for a long time, Y/N, I would think I know how they should be eaten.” She was happy. Despite everything, you were happy. How did it ever come to an end?

“Show me how you eat it, mama,” the little boy challenged, his voice pulling you out of your head. He picked up a cookie and wiggled it at her. Natasha wasn’t really the type to turn down a challenge, whether it be against a child or not, so she didn’t hesitate to snatch it out of his tiny fingers, quickly dunking it into his milk and laughing in victory while biting half the cookie off into her mouth. Anthony’s mouth formed an O as he looked down into his cup.

“Look at all the little crumbs floating around.” Your chest tightened uneasily.

“He’s your child,” she declared with a playful grin, earning another giggle from the child as he grabbed more Oreos. “How’re you feeling, detka?”

You pursed your lips together tightly, nodding at her question as you quickly averted your gaze to Anthony, who had now resorted to taking the cookie apart so he could get to the cream in the middle. “Hey, buddy,” you expressed, making your way to the table to sit in the empty chair next to him. “How about we do something fun today? We can go to the movies. Maybe get ice cream later.”

“He’s got school,” Natasha pointed out.

“After, then,” you suggested.

“Uncle Steve is taking me to the park,” Anthony expressed, and you sighed softly as you leaned back into the chair, crossing your arms over your chest and chewing the inside of your cheek. You watched the little boy bite into the cookie, flashing you a wide, proud grin. But you could only laugh when you noticed the bits of chocolate stuck in his teeth.

“C’mon, T,” Natasha started, “it’s time to get ready.” She pulled the plate of Oreos towards her, preventing him from snatching another cookie as he hopped off the chair.

He started walking away as you rested your elbow against the table, placing your chin in your palm, but he stopped abruptly to turn around. “Can we go tomorrow?” You turned your head to look at him, smiling softly at his offer. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” you promised. “Now go on. You don’t want to be late.” You straightened your form when he ran off, leaving you alone with Natasha. You could feel her eyes boring a hole in the side of your face, drawing circles with your nails on the surface of the table. You wondered how long she was willing to sit here in silence before she broke it, but you also knew the Russian was more than ready to go as long as she needed until you were the one to break first. “I’ll clean-”

“I got it.” She stood up before you could beat her to it, a sigh passing your lips as she collected the dishes on the table and walked away. “Is there a reason why you ignored my question?”

“I am feeling great,” you said, getting up and slowly making your way to her. “Refreshed. Energized.” You looped an arm around her waist, spinning her around and pulling her flush against your body. You swayed back and forth to invisible music, sending her a mischievous smirk as you added, “Since Tony’s going to be gone, we’ll have the entire house to ourselves.”

She laughed lightly, her breath fanning across your face as your lips brushed across hers. “As fun as that would be, you know I have to go to work.” You stopped swaying, blinking as you stared at her. Your eyebrows pinched together slightly, your head tilting to the side, and you allowed her to step away from you so she could finish cleaning the dishes.

“Work?” Honestly, you didn’t even think about that. You can’t really even imagine Natasha having a job that isn’t being an Avenger, or something of that extent. It was reasonable for her words to catch you off guard… if you were hearing it for the first time. And it felt like you were.

She hummed in agreement, nodding as she turned the faucet on. “The house doesn’t pay for itself, Y/N,” she pointed out, chuckling under her breath. “And we got the bills, and we need to get food, and-”

“Alright, alright. I get it,” you claimed, and she laughed once more as she turned the sink off, turning to look at you once more. “I have errands to run today anyway.”

“Are you not going to work?” You blinked at her, her question echoing in your mind as if it was the worst thing she has ever said to you in your entire life. You have a job?

And a job you did have. It wasn’t the best job considering the last job you had was saving the world from threats nobody else dared to face, but it was something that - apparently - paid the bills. No, this job just had you saving parents from having to work with a babysitter. A daycare was the last place you expected to be, but it wasn’t the worst.

All the children knew you, shouting your name with excitement when they entered the building, running up to wrap their arms around your legs in a hug as their mom or dad snuck out of the room unseen. You were loved here as if you weren’t a complete stranger to all these kids. But that’s what you felt like. These kids knew you, but you didn’t know them.

“Miss Y/N?” You turned your head to look at the little girl, crouching down to her level so you could make eye contact with her. She smiled widely, her fingers pinching the hem of her shirt as she said, “I built something and I wanna show you. Follow me!” She ran off, and a soft laugh slipped through your nose as you ultimately followed her command.

She guided you across the foam floor, standing in front of a pillow fort that towered against the corner. 

“Do you like it?” She beamed brightly, turning away from you before you could answer her question to pull open the blanket door. “You can come in! But you have to tell me the password.” She stepped forward, holding her free hand around her mouth to whisper the password in your direction before she disappeared into the fort.

You cleared your throat before asking, “May I enter?”

“What’s the password?”

“I’m pretty sure you won’t be sitting underneath an impressive pillow fort if nothing happened.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, eyebrows furrowed tightly.

“You think my fort’s impressive?”

You walked away, and the little girl’s voice calling your name from behind was just a distant echo as the reminiscent feeling of all the pillows collapsing onto you overtook your body, the sound of her fading laughter filling your mind. Your vision was clouded with memories of Wanda’s smile, of her nose scrunch, of her sparkling eyes. But they were ultimately replaced with her frown, the sorrow in her eyes, a purple tint to the memories as she glanced at you sadly from the other side of the room. You could feel your chest tighten once again, suffocating your heart as you stumbled to your car.

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It was hard reading her name engraved into a stone used to mark a grave. It made all those questionable thoughts about her death disappear as it became more real, crouching down to wipe away the loose dirt that built up at the bottom of the tombstone. You couldn’t stop the tear from crawling down your cheek, but you managed to run your arm across your face to prevent it from getting much further.

“I’m not sure when the last time I visited you was,” you confessed, pursing your lips into a thin line as your hands lingered on the headstone, “but I bet you’re still watching me from wherever you are. You’re always keeping an eye on me.” You sucked in a shaky breath, running a hand across the engravement. “And I bet you’re just absolutely floored to see where I am right now.” You laughed, though the sound was humorless as you looked down at the grass. “I married Nat. And we have a kid now.” A soft smile tugged the corners of your lips. “I know what you’d say. You’d probably call me all different types of names in Sokovian.” Tears fell from your eyes as your nose burned, and the next thing you said came out uneven, “But I forgave you, huh, so why not forgive…”

The feeling of realization hit you so fast, it brought a nauseating twist to your gut as you looked up at her name once more. Your eyebrows pinched together, and the tears that poured from your eyes turned hot with anger as your jaw locked dangerously tight. You climbed to your feet, your hands balled into fists, and fury formed a tight knot in your chest as you turned to walk away once more.

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“We’re home!” Her voice nearly echoed through the dark house, followed by the door closing shut behind them. It was always an instinct to flicker the light on whenever entering a room, and that’s what she did. She turned on the light and instantly found you sitting on the couch, a cup of amber liquid dangling from the tips of your fingers. Her face contorted into confusion as she sent Anthony to get ready for bed before making her way to you in slow, calculated movements. “Y/N?” She stopped at the doorway of the living room, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I figured it out,” you expressed, your voice monotone as you snorted out a humorless chuckle. You shook your head, lifting the glass in the air as you continued to stare at the blank TV. “It’s all coming together quite nicely now.”

“What are you talking about?” She took a few more steps toward you. “Are you drunk?”

“Not drunk enough,” you countered, turning your head to look at her. You made eye contact as you took another sip of your drink, and she released a heft breath as she sat down on the other end of the couch. 

“Y/N…” She cleared her throat. “Maybe you should get some rest.”

“What did you do that made me forgive you so fast?” you questioned, your tongue flicking out to lick your lips as you awaited an answer. She could only seem to stare at you with an unchanged expression.

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“That’s the thing, Nat,” you interrupted, leaning forward to place your drink on the coffee table. “I didn’t forgive you.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Of course you did,” she argued. “We wouldn’t be married if you didn’t.”

“We’re not married.”

“Our certificate says otherwise.”

“So show me,” you challenged, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“What?”

“Show me the certificate, Nat.” But she just sat there, unmoving. As if your demand wasn’t to be taken seriously. You could feel your heart speed up the longer she didn’t say anything. “You can’t, can you?”

“I shouldn’t have to,” she claimed defensively. 

“It’s too bad Bruce is dead,” you expressed with a casual shrug. “You would’ve married him instead.”

“What has gotten into you?” she demanded, standing up. “It’s been over a year since I-”

“No, it wasn’t!” Your voice was loud, you couldn’t control it. The anger unraveled in your chest, bringing you to your feet as your eyes grew red with unshed tears. You couldn’t bare to look at her, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to turn away. Her pupils were wide, wrapping her arms around you as she maintained eye contact. “It wasn’t to me,” you sneered.

“Y/N-”

“It hasn’t been a year since you broke my heart. It hasn’t been a year since you destroyed my trust. It’s been a month since you ruined my life!”

“You need to calm down right now.” Her tone was serious, a warning just as it had been last night. You refused to cower away from this. No, you had to get to the truth. You had to know why you couldn’t remember anything that led up to this life. Though you knew you shouldn’t. It was a happy life. You had a family; a kid and a wife. You had taken that next step with Natasha, the step you had always wanted to take long before. But not like this. Not anymore.

“I stopped wanting to marry you the second I caught you in that bed with him,” you said. “That was the day I realized that we had very different meanings of love.” You rubbed your forehead as your eyes fluttered close, smirking. “When I said I loved you, I meant forever. When you said you loved me, you meant temporarily.”

“I do love you,” she expressed defensively. “I loved you then and I love you now, Y/N.”

You shook your head, opening your eyes to look at her once more. “Our love is broken, Nat. And we need to stop pretending it isn’t.”

“We can fix it.” She stepped forward, ignoring the anger still boiling in your veins as she reached up to bring your face between her hands. Her touch was gentle, warm, and you had to fight everything in your body to stop yourself from leaning into it. “Y/N, detka… We can fix it.” Her voice was much softer now, and her eyes… Her eyes were shimmering with hope, sparkling like you were looking at the night sky. She had a light smile on her face, and her thumbs were running smooth circles against your skin. You could feel yourself giving in, your hands twitching as you resisted the urge to feel her. But your shoulders fell, your muscles easing out of their tense state as you slowly succumbed to her touch.

“Please fix it,” you whispered, feeling her swipe her thumb quickly to catch a stray tear. 

“I will.” She nodded, her small smile growing very slightly as you stepped forward to close the distance, wrapping your arms around her to bring her into a tight hug. You rested your chin on her shoulder, your eyes closing as she pulled you flushed against her. “I promise.”

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“I’m glad you called me.” You placed a steaming cup in front of him, smiling as he accepted the offering. You watched as he blew on the liquid for a moment before taking a timid sip. “Actually, I’m more shocked than anything.” Woods laughed lightly as he looked back up at you, meeting your gaze. 

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. “I want to talk,” you said. “Something hasn’t been sitting right with me and I was hoping you’d fill in the blanks.”

“Well, I’ll do my best to ease the uneasiness.” He laughed softly once more, and you pursed your lips and raised your eyebrows briefly before turning away from him to sit down. “What’s been on your mind?”

“Everything that happened between now and Avengers Day is just… blank. But I keep getting overwhelmed by all these memories,” you started, rubbing your hands together. “Some are just normal. Others have, like, this… sickly purple tint to them.” You picked your head up to meet his eye once again, catching him in deep thought as he listened. “I just want to understand why.”

“Do you still believe the Church is alive?” You stared at him for a bit longer, wondering if he was trying to lead you into a trap. Natasha had practically looked at you as if you were absolutely insane for suggesting the Church was still around. Was he trying to do the same? “Because, if you do, that could lead to the delusion that you’re seeing purple in your memories.” He cleared his throat, picking his hand up as he added, “It’s like someone thinking they’re being followed. Allowing yourself to strongly believe such a thing is causing you to become paranoid.”

“When Steve succumbed to the Church, they went to the Avengers Tower. How much of a coincidence could it have been that the only survivors of that entire battle were Vision and Bruce?” Two people you most definitely didn’t want to deal with amongst everything else at the time.

“Well, I wasn’t there, so I wouldn’t really be able to calculate that math,” he confessed, though the smile he was fighting to hide showed he was joking.

“And Wanda…” You remembered pulling open that front door; the way he was kissing her, and the way she was kissing back. The feelings you experienced at the time. “She kissed Vision when I thought that we… But she wouldn’t ever do anything like that to me, right?”

“But she did,” he claimed, furrowing his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly. 

“I got Nat, I got Tony. I…” You huffed. “I love them. They are my… my family.” Despite the doubts that were placed in your brain, Natasha was the one you wanted… right? “And I want to enjoy this time I have with them. I want to… live this life like I always wanted.”

“What are you getting at, Y/N?”

“It’s like my-my brain is fighting something and I...”

“Y/N-”

“Maybe I never beat the Church. Maybe… I never got out of the Promise.”

He sighed, scratching his chin.

“I think I’m still in it, Woods,” you explained, leaning forward, “and I need you to help me believe I’m not.”

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She was lost in thought, her eyes distant as she chewed the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t focused on the conversation going on around her, racking her brain for a solution to the problem at hand. But nothing she could think of provided the answer she wanted. They all only led to unwelcoming conclusions.

“Nat.” She was pulled out of her daze by the gentle call of her name, focusing her gaze on the patriot sitting across from her. “You okay?” His stare was soft, sympathetic, with his arms crossed over his chest in a casual manner. He was in no rush at the moment, taking the time now to relax before getting to work. “She’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out, we always do.”

“I suggest locking her up in a cell and throwing away the key.” She looked towards Tony, who was sitting against the wall, coddling his left arm. Her pupils were narrowed with annoyance, but he was never one to cower away from her glares. “She’s the reason for-”

“Stark is right.” The Russian huffed, her eyes snapping on Bruce. “She should be punished for what she did.”

Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest in a much more defensive way than Steve. “We all did things we’re not proud of.”

“She’s done a lot worse, Nat,” Bruce expressed, his voice filled with a worry that only irritated her more.

“We didn’t blow up the tower,” Stark countered.

“Once she snaps out of it-”

“If,” Tony corrected, but the scientist continued as if he didn’t.

“-then we have to prepare ourselves for whatever happens afterward.”

Natasha turned to Steve, who had been staring at her with calculating eyes the entire time. “You’re not going to arrest her,” she stated. It wasn’t a question, he knew that, but he wasn’t going to delve into a problem that was set in the future. He needed to return the focus to the now.

“We’ll talk about that after,” Steve assured, bringing sadness to Natasha as she looked down at her hands. “For now, we have to figure out a way to help her. She’s the only one who can fix this problem.”

“She’s not the only one who can fix it,” Tony announced, causing the patriot to roll his eyes.

“We don’t need any more deaths, Tony,” Steve declared. “Wanda thinks she died in the fall, but if we manage to pull her out-”

Natasha picked her head up to look at you once more, and it made her sick to her stomach to see you tied to that chair. But she was nearly certain you weren’t aware of your surroundings at the moment. With your posture straight, your stare unblinking, and the purple aura surrounding your body, you were lost in a paradise formed by your own mind.

“-we can save everybody.”

[imnotasuperhero]

Drabble nº? (Set somewhere at the beginning of SB) - W.M

Summary: Sometimes, talks in the early morning can open your eyes to new possibilities.

A/N: Day 2 of Promptober, guys! (I know I'm super late, but I'm trying here. Lol) Hopefully, I'll get to squish my muses to complete all 31 days before the month ends. For now, enjoy this small something to add background to my ongoing baker!Wanda AU.

Could've I written more and post it on Sunday or later? Yes. But the need to try and catch up with the missing days made me do it.

-

The sweet scent of apples awoke you from a peaceful sleep, lifting your spirits to the stratosphere. With lazy socked feet, you brushed your sleep away as you made your way to the kitchen, just to feel the cozy feeling inside turn into uncertainty at the realization that the low music coming from the kitchen was no other than…

"You're up early," the brunette smiled softly as she finished pouring the batter into the mold.

"I blame your baking skills," you shrugged, ignoring the storm of feelings forming inside your chest at the sound of her soft giggles.

"Something good had to come out of it," Wanda closed the oven before turning around, landing those deep greeny eyes on you. "How did you sleep?" She relaxed her shoulders after a few seconds too long.

Smiling wickedly, you laughed drily. "It was okay. But we both know that's not what you wanted to ask."

"Can you stop reading me?" Wanda grunted before reaching to the cupboard.

Instead of answering, you rounded the table and stood beside her, with your hip perched on the countertop.

"Y/N," she warned, sending shivers down your spine.

"Answer me," you pushed.

You witnessed with rapt attention the way in which her jaw clenched at the time she swallowed hard, a clear sign that she was fighting with herself.

"Is it true what you said yesterday?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yes," you answered firmly.

Scrunitizing her reaction, your heart skiped a beat at those old quirks you've learned to recognize throughout all the years. But it wasn't till her eyes found yours that you saw a spark you knew too well but weren't able to pinpoint yet. Or maybe you did, but part of you didn't want to accept the new reality in fears of your heart shattering all over again.

Maybe this time, you could use all the lessons you learned to protect yourself. Maybe this was the endgame you always wanted but shoved in a corner of your heart.

Maybe, and just maybe, you've reached your destiny.

Taglist: @wandabear @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @when-wolves-howl @sunsol-22 @romanoffomixam @casquinhaa @fxckmiup @snowtrova (if you wanna be added to the Promptober days or in my fics in general, let me know)