#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

[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]

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.

[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.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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.”

[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]

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.

[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)

[thenatashamaximoff]

Quick To Love

Summary: With the fresh wound of losing her brother, she’s quick to judge the new speedster that doesn’t seem to stop showing up.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: blood, mentions of death, mentions of kidnapping

Words: 31,626

✎ | ϟ

Based directly off of this drabble with some minor tweaks

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━ϟ━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓ @madamevirgo​  ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━ϟ━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓ @diaryoflife​​ @women-am-i-right​​ @creatively-analytical​​ @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @beforeoursecrets​​ @iliketozoneout​​ @olsensnpm​​  ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━∞━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓ @myfavoriteficss​​ @pinkytoecrust​​ @cyncity32​​ @romanoffomixam​​ @peachbear88​​ @magicallymaximoff​​ @therealmeari @peggycarter-steverogers​​ @ba-romanoff​​ @natashabelovas​​ @morbid-gaymer​​ @reminiscingtonight​​ @when-wolves-howl​​ @idontknownemore​​ @natashasilverfox​​ @sayah13​​  ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━∞━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

Her eyes watched the trees blur by, her body jostling along with the jeep maneuvering over the dirt road. She was silent, matching the sound of the atmosphere surrounding her. Her elbow rested on the door, her chin in her hand, her jaw clenched tightly. It was hard to see the meaning of life when the only person she had ever held close to her heart was gone. Her foolish brother; faster than a speeding bullet, and yet…

She had to shake it off. The fresh memory of her brother’s death was going to get in the way of her mission, but she couldn’t stop the grief from flooding her mind. She was compelled to close her eyes, letting the stray tear crawl down her cheek. She hated how she couldn’t allow herself to find peace in the darkness, her brother’s face painted on the inside of her eyelids. Memories, both good and bad, colored a picture in the black.

“It’s easy.” Natasha’s voice interceded Wanda’s thoughts, forcing the rookie back to the present with a deep inhale through her nose, her eyes fluttering open as she pulled away from the window. She wiped at the singular tear with her knuckles, grateful for the end of the silence, even more grateful when the redhead killed the engine of the car once it came to a stop. “Get in, get the data, get out.” The first week of being an Avenger and they didn’t hesitate to throw her on an assignment. She wasn’t complaining; it kept her mind occupied on something other than Pietro. She needs the distraction. “Maybe, if we’re lucky enough, we get the chance to burn the place to the ground.” The former assassin sent Wanda a sly, eager wink before climbing out of the jeep.

Wanda sat there for a moment, watching Natasha gain distance between her and the car. Stopped in the middle of the woods - to keep the element of surprise - there was nothing else to do than to follow the seasoned agent quickly. It didn’t seem like she was going to wait for the witch to pull herself together. No time to think, just go.

But the longer she trailed after Natasha’s retreating form, the more she felt that the two of them weren’t truly alone. Sensing another pair of eyes on her, she couldn’t help but have her head on a swivel. Natasha, a highly trained asset, doesn’t seem to notice the new presence. And, if she does, she isn’t showing it. The redhead continued forward, yet Wanda found herself slowing down. Her chest tightened, her heartbeat climbed into her throat, her hands formed fists by her sides, and when a twig snapped somewhere to her left, she didn’t hesitate to send a red blast that way.

She released a heavy breath when the projectile smashed into a tree, the explosion of wood drove away the hidden birds as they flew off.

“What’re you doing?” Her throat constricted in fear, a gasp working its way up her chest, at the sound of Natasha’s voice, turning to face her. She had her arms crossed over her chest, an eyebrow raised dubiously, as she awaited an answer from the new Avenger. Wanda wanted to ask if the redhead felt the change in the air, but when her mouth opened, and no words could be heard, Natasha only shook her head as she fought a smirk tugging a corner of her lips. “Come on. Daylight’s burning.”

Wanda turned her attention to the tree she had shot, lingering for a moment before finally finding the ability to walk. Though the sensation of the new presence didn’t fade away, she chose to file it under paranoia as she followed Natasha the rest of the way. She needs to focus on her mission, located in a building that wasn’t that much further, it seems. A few steps later and she could see it peeking through some foliage.

But it was just too easy. Knocking down enemies in the HYDRA base as if she were playing a video game on the peaceful difficulty, not to mention she had managed to lose Natasha some time ago. Her thoughts, despite herself, started to wander. Something had broken inside of her at the mere feeling of his death. And what she wouldn’t do to feel whole again, to get her brother back, as annoying as he was. If she could, she’d go back in time. Stop themselves from ever joining the Avengers, from joining Ultron. Because she never thought the emptiness could be so cold.

Focus.

When she turned the corner, she couldn’t help but pull off a small smile at the number of soldiers awaiting her arrival, positioned in a defensive strategy with all their guns trained on her. This is exactly the distraction she was seeking, not having to think about anything but not dying. Yet, the distraction didn’t last very long. One moment, all the guards were there, preparing to unleash the unholy amount of bullets that would’ve come from their guns, and the next… they were all unconscious. And she was way too puzzled to even notice that one guard managed to get a shot off, the bullet racing to hit its mark…

Someone appeared in front of her, their fist raised in the air exactly where the bullet had been, mere inches from her face. She furrowed her eyebrows as the stranger grinned at her, flipping the harmless bullet in the air and catching it.

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” Wanda could’ve sworn she heard Pietro say it, his voice condescending and snarky, playful and joking. But he didn’t say it, the stranger did. The stranger who was giving her the biggest of smiles right now, as if it was all a joke. And it was. A sick one.

Wanda’s confused face instantly turned to anger, wondering what she could have possibly done for the universe to give her whatever this was. “Who are you?” She couldn’t stop the coldness in her voice, especially when the grin on the stranger’s face didn’t waver even a centimeter at the hatred Wanda was spewing out in every syllable she had said. Her hands clenched into tight fists by her sides, her nails digging into her palms as they threatened to cut her open. She needed a reason not to send this stranger flying.

“Name’s Y/N,” you greeted, opening your hand to offer her a handshake, the bullet falling to the floor with a metallic patter as it bounced. “You know, you’d think you’d be a little bit more grateful that I saved your life.” You pulled your arm away from her when it was clear she wasn’t going to accept the handshake, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets.

“I didn’t need your help.” She couldn’t find the ability to open her jaw, her tone bone-chilling through clenched teeth. “I had it handled.”

“Oh, I know you did, Darling.” Darling. The butterflies she thought had died a long time ago fluttered to life in her stomach, but she managed to suffocate the growing swarm. This, she knew, was unacceptable. She had to hate you - hate is easier to deal with than love - but your charisma was making it difficult. Your charm was working on her, and it was working quickly. “I’ve been watching you ever since I saw you and the redhead pull up.” You turned away from her before she could conjure up a response, taking a moment to admire your handiwork before you started to walk away. Despite everything inside her mind telling her that she didn’t care, that she wanted nothing to do with you, she followed suit. “I just really wanted to steal your thunder.”

She felt a tug against her heart at the sound of your lighthearted laughter and she told herself that she shouldn’t be feeling this way towards you. She needed to loathe you, to despise everything you stand for, but she… couldn’t. Your smiling face made her want to smile, too, so biting down hard against her cheek made her successfully fight that feeling. “Why are you even here?”

You stopped walking abruptly, causing her to nearly collide with you. You slowly turned to look at her, meeting her green eyes and completely ignoring the cold hate you see in them, smiling at her warmly. “You’re not the only one who gets to have some fun with HYDRA.” You patted her on the shoulder and she instantly swatted your hand away. You shrugged off her reaction and turned back around to continue your march forward.

The second your back was to her, the coldness on her face evaporated, she had completely lost control over the butterflies in her gut, and she followed you without a hesitated second, stepping over the guards carefully. “Where did you-”

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking for your friend?” You turned a corner down the hall. She knew that if you truly wanted her to stop talking to you, you would’ve ran off a long time ago. She wouldn’t have been able to catch you. “The redhead. Pretty sure she’s on the other side of the-”

“She’s fine.” At least she thinks she’s fine. Natasha can handle herself, that’s for sure. There was no need to worry about her. “You seem to know your way around the building pretty well.”

“I’m just guessing.” She couldn't stop the curiosity from overwhelming her thoughts, ultimately deciding to take a peek into your mind, but your thoughts were going faster than she could read. And when you stopped walking once more, she was too caught up in trying to catch at least a word in your fast-working mind that she bumped right into you. “Are you trying to read my mind?” You turned to face her, pointing a finger at her as you raised an eyebrow, the smile still on your face. “I can feel you poking, Darling.”

“How do you-” She didn't fully process what had happened, she couldn't. The gunshot reached her ears, and the bullet whizzed by her, but by the time she turned to look at the shooter, they were already on the floor. And she could've sworn she felt a brief pressure on her shoulders as if she were guided to the side, yet the carefree smile that still remained on your face convinced her not to debate it any further.

“Hey, I have a question for you.” She opened her mouth to respond, but you were already asking, “I feel like you should be a lot nicer to me. I don’t recall doing anything to you…”

“That’s not a question-”

“Why are you so quick to judge me?” you asked. “You’re very cold.”

“And you’re very warm.”

You gasped as you playfully smacked her shoulder, the action too quick for her to process it had happened until she felt it. “We’re perfect together then, no?”

“No.”

“Hot and cold. Fire and ice.” You moved your shoulders in sync with each word, waggling your eyebrows at her with a smirk that caused a flutter in her gut she couldn't deny.

She crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to smother whatever was happening in her stomach, her eyebrows furrowed in anger. She pushed any tenderness she felt towards you down, forcing it to disappear in the deepest, darkest part of her mind. “I don’t like you.”

“Well, then, I don’t like you either,” you countered, mirroring her stance. This was the first time since she’s met you that the smile disappeared from your face, your lips turning down to a frown as your eyebrows pinched together with clear anger. The expression was brief - you couldn’t hold it for long before you burst out into a smile once again - but it was enough to send chills up Wanda’s spine. She’d hate to see you truly angry. “I’m just kidding. Despite your grumpy demeanor, I'm enjoying your company, Darling.”

She felt the warmth collide with the coldness she was displaying, your words reaching the swarm of butterflies in her stomach once more, giving them a new vigor. She wanted to hate you, she wanted to love you. And she was already feeling herself getting lost in your eyes as you waited for her to make a comment, though you were easily capable of breaking the contact to turn away when she didn't respond fast enough.

She found herself following instantly, watching as you walked down the hall. You ran your fingers along the wall as you seemed to be humming, though the melody was too fast for her to catch.

Your powers matched that of Pietro's, yet it was clear you were much more experienced than her brother. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to connect with you, to get to know you, to let you into her life. She opened her mouth, a word forming on the tip of her tongue, but you stopped walking once more at the end of the hallway, turning to look at her with the same smile you held since you "saved" her.

“You know what, Darling,” you started, “I feel bad for stepping on your moment back there. Would you like the chance to redeem yourself? Show me what you’re really capable of.” Your grin was playful, relaxing. It brought her a sense of tranquility, something she so desperately needs at the moment. “Yes or no.” She caught herself leaning towards you at the sound of your voice, blinking out of the daze she had found herself in. She crossed her arms over her chest tightly, an attempt to create a barrier between you and her. You threw a thumb over your shoulder as you added, “There are four HYDRA agents waiting around the corner. I’m kinda interested to see what your glow stick hands can do.” Your finger tapped hers and, despite your superspeed, the motion was slow, drawn out. As if you wanted to feel her. And it was like your touch had ignited a burning fire underneath her skin, a feeling she didn’t know she desired until now. She wanted to feel you.

“Watch and learn.” You pressed yourself against the wall, eyes trailing after her as she marched forward before she disappeared around the corner. She was a bit surprised to find that you were right, there actually were a handful of agents waiting, but you seem to have counted wrong. Three HYDRA personnel stood in the middle of the hallway and the moment they noticed Wanda, they picked up their weapons in preparation to fight. She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder, making brief eye contact with you as you stood at the end of the hall, hands gripping your hips. A long breath parted her lips as she returned her focus to the enemies, her chest tightening. She didn’t know why she felt the need to impress you, but her confusion to the desire didn’t stop her from trying.

She made quick work of the small group, her red vapors swirling around the enemies to incapacitate them almost immediately. She was proud of her work after it was all said and done, and she even puffed up with pride when she heard the slow claps come from behind her. Turning to face you, she crossed her arms over her chest as she shrugged nonchalantly. “That was great,” you commented, walking towards her. “I would’ve drawn it out a little longer, have a little fun with them, but your glow sticks seem to pack a powerful punch, Darling.” You pursed your lips together tightly, breathing out a deep breath as you shook your head. “Unfortunately, I’ma have to give you a seven out of ten.”

“A seven?” She sounded offended, how could she not? She did amazing, and she was willing to bet she looked cooler than it felt. Her performance was not worth a seven! The way she made the one agent do a flip before tossing him against the wall was an eight alone. Hell, she would’ve settled with a seven and a half. The audacity-

Why was she upset about this?

“Yes,” you expressed, grinning. You looked at the downed agents, pointing your finger as you counted them, mumbling numbers under your breath. "One, two, three- No, wait. One, two-" You shook your head, meeting her gaze. "I'll be the first to admit that I didn't have very good teachers when I was a kid, but I'm sure I know how to count to four. Yet, I only see three.” You hummed thoughtfully, grinning as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“There wasn’t a fourth-” She interrupted herself when your eyes flashed to something over her shoulder, and she felt her heart leap into her throat when she turned around. There, standing on the other side of the hall, was a man built like a machine. Thick, metal armor covered him in a desperate attempt to keep himself safe from harm, his face hidden behind a helmet that matched his body. She hated to admit it, but you were ultimately right. There were four, and she had missed the biggest one of them all. It was instinct to crouch into a protective stance, red covering her irises as she prepared to send the man-made monster into next week.

You placed a hand on her shoulder, the crimson tendrils dancing around her fingers dimming as a laugh escaped your throat, walking past her to position yourself between her and the manmade monster. “Watch and learn.”

The behemoth started towards you, stepping over his fallen comrades as his speed increased as much as it can in that heavy suit of his, but you didn’t seem to be in any sort of rush. No, you were stretching; crossing an arm over your chest and pulling it with your other arm, kicking your foot back and catching it with your hand. Wanda couldn’t help but watch with piqued interest, her eyes glued to you as you continued to be as cool as a cucumber.

You were confident, jumping onto your toes as you shook your arms, rolling your shoulders as you stretched your neck. You knew you weren't going to lose, and you wanted to have a little fun with the behemoth. But the closer the enemy got to you, the tighter her gut clenched with worry. She took a step towards you, her hands raising in preparation to protect you. You were allowing the monstrosity of a man to get a little bit too close for comfort, but that didn’t seem to matter because, within a blink of an eye, you were gone.

Wanda felt… relieved. Abandoning her would only cause her to resent you, and the feelings she could feel herself developing for you were slowly fading away now that she sees how you truly are. In the face of a real, dangerous threat, you used your power as an advantage to run away. Cowardice, that was her first thought. Your cockiness was all a ruse to get her to trust you and then, at the last second, you leave.

She barely had time to prep her power before a sudden, strong gust of wind passed her by, and the loud sound that reverberated through the halls echoed in her skull as her eyes finally managed to process what had happened. The behemoth was on the ground, you standing over him with a wide smile on your face. She subtly inched closer to get a quick peek at the damage done, and the dent left in the man’s chest plate was all she needed to see to connect the pieces. You didn’t run off to escape; you ran off to get some distance.

“Woooo!” you guffawed, bouncing on your feet in victory. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee! This juggernaut just got laid out by me!” Laughter escaped your throat as you turned to look at Wanda, watching her approach you. She, once again, had to bite the inside of her cheek to fight away the smile threatening her stoic mask.

“Juggernaut?” She crossed her arms over her chest, an eyebrow raised skeptically, and you breathed out a soft laugh as you mimicked her expression.

“What do you call it? Behemoth?” You teased, but she didn't have time to defend herself before you held your hand up. “I present to the lady, a flower.” It shouldn’t have surprised her, really. The cockiness that radiated off of you, of course you’d take an extra step to be… well, extra. Wanda’s eyes left your bright face to look at the item you held delicately in between your index finger and thumb. She made no movement for the offering, and only a short amount of time passed before your gaze averted to the object in question. No, it wasn’t a flower as you had claimed it to be. It was just the stem of one, the speed at which you ran managed to blow off all the petals. Still, the failure of a gift didn’t seem to deter you as another laugh reached her ears.

She was biting against her cheek so hard to not give in to the humor of the situation, she could swear she was tasting blood at this point.

“I totally didn’t calculate that.” You stared at it for a moment before ultimately shrugging it off, dropping the stem to the ground as you turned your back to her. “No matter. The excursion shall continue!” You walked off, Wanda’s eyes trailing after you for a moment.

By the time she caught up to you, rounding the corner you had disappeared behind, you were leaning against the wall, what seemed to be some sort of protein bar in your hand as your jaw moved to chew a piece you had bitten off. She furrowed her eyebrows, her steps faltering as her head tilted. “Where did you-” She cut herself off, releasing a sigh when you looked at her with a smug grin. She wasn't going to fall victim to your tomfoolery. The origins of the snack would remain a mystery.

You pushed yourself away from the wall, smiling through your chewing as you gestured towards the door in front of you with the bar. “This is my stop,” you told her after swallowing the mouthful of food. “I don’t know what you and the redhead are here for, but this is where we’ll be parting ways, Darling.” You patted her on the shoulder, and she didn’t attempt to swat your hand away this time as you took another portion of the protein bar into your mouth.

Wanda eyed the door as you walked towards it, the control room. She found herself perking up a little when she saw that she, too, had to get in there. She cleared her throat as your hand moved towards the handle, walking forward to place herself between you and the door. “Don’t worry.” With a wave of her hand, the door blew open, and she puffed up with pride once more as she turned to you. “I got it.”

“Very nice,” you complemented, nodding in approval, “but I unlocked it before you caught up with me.” You grinned widely, popping the last bit of the protein bar into your mouth and squeezing the wrapper into a fist. You sent her a sly wink before entering the room, and she released a small, breathy laugh before following you. You made a beeline for one of the many computers, practically falling onto the desk chair and allowing your momentum to roll you away. Wanda couldn’t help but smile as she watched you, the way you spun in unnecessary circles as you rolled yourself back to the computer. “I wonder how many tries I get to crack the password.” And then you laughed, the witch crossing her arms over her chest as you shook your head. “I’m just kidding. It’s Captain America lover thirty-two fifty.” She managed to catch a glimpse of the wrapper after you dropped it onto the desk - an odd Russian protein bar, by the looks of the few letters she can see - but her attention from the trash was pulled when your fingers pressed the keys on the keyboards, and her jaw practically fell to the floor when you managed to unlock it on your first try.

“Was it-”

“No,” you assured her, sending her a smug grin. “It wasn’t.” She rolled her eyes, turning away from you to look at the rest of the room. “So, what brings you and Red here?”

“Probably the same reason why you’re here,” she answered automatically, her eyes scanning written notes pinned to a bulletin board.

A hum, followed by soft laughter. “I highly doubt that,” you expressed. She found herself slowly turning to look at you, she couldn’t help it. Despite the coldness she had been displaying, your warmth never wavered, not once, as it gradually filled the hole that was left in her chest. And the smile on your face lit a small fire in her gut. One would think that she’d get used to the expression, but it was somehow different every time she saw it. As if she was experiencing it for the first time over and over again. “I didn’t really think a small, backwater sorta place would lure a couple of big, mighty Avengers. Only thing they store here is insignificant data.”

She looked away from you when your fingers flew across the keyboard in a speed she would be foolish to attempt to keep up with. “How do you know I’m an Avenger?” She moved through the room, looking at the wall of televisions. One of the screens mirrored whatever it was you were doing on the computer, yet, much like your thoughts, the words were moving way too quickly for her to comprehend what she was reading.

“C’mon, Darling,” you expressed, scoffing with a slight grin. “As if a being with your level of power would just randomly pop into a HYDRA base to take them down out of the kindness of your heart.” She looked back over to you, and she watched - with pure amazement, though she’d never really admit it - as she realized that you were actually managing to read what was being displayed on the screen. “Plus, I’ve seen your friend before.”

Wanda realized that was a dead giveaway. Natasha was on the news plenty of times for her heroic actions as an Avenger, such as saving New York from an alien attack. She started to consider asking everybody if they were willing to recruit an extra member. Surely they wouldn’t miss out on the chance of having a speedster on the team. Again. She should just ask you right now. Would you like to be an Avenger? She could feel the words forming in her mouth, her lips molding to the syllable of the first word. She should ask. Who would pass on the opportunity on becoming one of Earth’s mightiest heroes? She certainly didn’t. You could save so many people. You could change the world. And you’d be by her side the whole time.

“I got what I needed.” She blinked, finding herself back in the present as her head turned towards the dark screen, her shoulders slumping as she realized she had missed her chance in trying to figure out what exactly drew you here. But when the screen turned blue, programming code filling the space for a brief moment before the screen went dark once more, anger only filled her once she realized what you had done.

“What did you just do?” She needed confirmation.

“I killed the system,” you answered, shrugging nonchalantly as you made your way out of the room. “How else to stop HYDRA from getting it again?”

Anger, that’s what she was feeling as she chased after you. It was like she had gone full circle with her emotions. “You didn’t even give me the chance to do what I needed to do,” she declared, and she ground her teeth harshly when you kept walking, turning the corner and stepping over the juggernaut you had knocked out earlier. She caught your elbow in a tight grip, pulling you to a stop as you spun around to look at her. And the smile on your face only made her clench her fists, her fingernails digging into her palms.

She could hear her name being called in the earpiece nestled into her ear; the first form of contact Natasha has attempted since they stepped foot into the building. The fury that was boiling Wanda's blood prevented her from unhinging her jaw to answer her partner, the Russian’s voice fading away as the black pools amongst her emerald eyes narrowed to a crumb suitable for an ant. She was truly angry - anybody within a ten-mile radius could see that - yet the smile remained on your face, just as big as usual.

“You're selfish,” she expressed. Though it wasn't the first word that came to mind, it was the one she put out in the air between you and her. “You did what you needed, and then you disregarded everybody else.” You crossed your arms over your chest, an eyebrow raised, and the smile that was still on your face only drove her further up the wall.

“Darling-”

“Enough with that stupid nickname,” she snapped. “You’re a coward.” There was a brief moment - it had happened so fast that she would be able to convince herself it didn’t happened if she wanted to - that the smile on your face finally wavered.

Your eyes landed on something behind her, and she fell into the instinct to follow your stare to see Natasha rounding the corner. When she looked back towards you, you were gone, and - despite the rage coursing through her veins - she found herself to be a bit disappointed by your absence.

“Good job, Maximoff,” Natasha expressed, stepping over the fallen enemies to reach the frozen, angry witch. The redhead was infamous for her sarcasm, Wanda had learned, and she released a heavy sigh as the assassin rested her hands on her own hips.

“I’m sorry, Nat-”

“For what? Splitting up?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “The job got done, it doesn’t matter now.” Confusion was quick to replace the anger, her eyebrows furrowed deeply to display that. No, the job wasn’t done. She didn’t get the data the team needed, she didn’t get anything but a headache in the form of you. “It’s not enough for us to know HYDRA’s plans, but it’ll surely get us somewhere.” She patted Wanda on the shoulder, grinning at the confused rookie. “You did good, Wanda. Let’s get out of here before reinforcements show up.”

Natasha left her standing there, walking past her to make her way to the exit, yet Wanda didn’t move an inch at the departure. No, she was frozen once more. Only this time, it wasn’t anger. It was guilt gnawing at her gut, regret wringing her stomach like a sponge. She felt bad for snapping at you, and she didn’t know a way to contact you to apologize for her words.

Her gaze averted to the floor and she couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of the petalless flower resting by her feet. She leaned down to pick it up, twirling it in between two gentle fingers as she brought it to eye level before sliding it into her pocket for safekeeping.

She couldn’t stop the thoughts from entering her head as she trailed after Natasha, wondering when she was going to see you again, and if she even wanted to. Because the world took away her brother and gave her you instead.

And she doesn’t know if she can accept that.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ϟ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

She was living in the past. Just not for her brother. Though her time with you was short, it was replaying on her mind as much as possible. But the more days go by without seeing you, the more of that partially-filled hole slowly gets dug out once more. Because, with you, that emptiness wasn’t so cold.

She had found sleep to be her haven when you started showing up in her dreams. She resented waking up, her fantasy of you to be replaced with a reality that lacked the very thing she wanted, but she couldn’t sleep forever. Your smile, not as bright as it was in real life, still brought her a warmth that nothing else has been able to match. And your laugh, how it would fill her gut with butterflies she had given up on trying to smother.

She misses you. Yet she would never say that out loud.

She was sitting on her bed, twirling the petalless flower in between her fingers when there was a soft knock on her door. The small smile that had lifted a corner of her lips slowly faded as she returned the flower to her nightstand when the door opened, her eyes meeting Natasha's as she peeked her head into the room.

"Get dressed," the redhead ordered, her voice overflowing with an authority that caused the witch to straighten her form automatically, "you're coming with me on a mission." She left before Wanda could question any further, the door clicking shut to leave the witch alone once again. And, giving one last look at the flower resting on the nightstand, she got up to follow orders.

She has gone on three missions since her first one, and she hasn't seen you on any of them. She would've crossed off her encounter as made up, an illusion formed in an attempt to fill up the crater her brother has left behind. She wouldn't have been surprised. Grief is dealt with in many different ways. If it wasn't for the stem of what she could only imagine was once a beautiful flower back in her room, she would've believed that theory. But with physical evidence such as that, it was impossible to deny your existence. Yet… she could feel herself beginning to lose hope.

"Another easy one," Natasha expressed, once again pulling Wanda out of her mind. The witch breathed out as if she had been holding her breath since she had gotten in the car, refocusing on the outside as a slow, steady rhythm of snow fell from the sky.

She found herself to be less hopeful than she was in the past three missions. There wasn't any reason why you'd show up now and not the others. What made this one so special? Just going to another HYDRA base to attempt to get more information on their new goals. Though it did surprise her, Natasha requesting her and only her for this mission. She couldn't help but wonder why, yet she had no time to voice her question. They were already pulling to a stop by the time she opened her mouth.

Another trek through the woods. How delightful. The atmosphere, when Wanda climbed out of the car, was unsettling, even in the daytime, and she was thankful Natasha suggested bringing a jacket as a chilly breeze swept through the air. Once again, she was hyper-aware of a new presence, her heart thrumming in her chest as her eyes surveyed the surrounding area with extreme care. Nothing but trees and Natasha's departing footsteps reached her ears.

She was quick to trail after the redhead, but she was gaining distance between them before she could catch up. Natasha moved fast, stealthy; Wanda could barely hear her footsteps crunching the leaves, covered in a thin, flimsy layer of snow. It was like her subconscious knew exactly where to step to avoid any noise, and Wanda had a hard time mimicking her furtiveness. She wondered how she knew where she was going when there wasn't a path to be followed.

A sound - as if a rock had been thrown to hit a tree - reached Wanda's ears, and she found herself coming to a stop in the middle of the woods once again to investigate a noise. An old cliché in all the movies to get someone's attention, she knew this, and yet here she is, falling for it.

Maybe they didn't park the jeep far enough. Maybe HYDRA was aware of the women's presence and wants to catch them off guard. Was stopping to search for the source of the noise going to be the last thing she does? She needed to continue forward, but the possibility of turning her back on HYDRA deterred her from doing such a thing.

"What're we looking at?" She gasped, her palm covering her heart in an attempt to slow it down, but when she finally managed to process the voice, she could feel the resting butterflies in her gut preparing to take off in a vortex formation, desperate to react to the sound of her happiness.

She turned around, her eyes almost instantly finding yours as you sent her a bold smile, though your jaw moved as you chewed. She eyed the familiar protein bar in your hand, half-eaten, as you laughed lightly through the food. "Y/N…" She felt as if she could finally breathe properly as your name fell from her mouth, her shoulders relaxing as she looked back into your gaze. Her heart hammered in her chest. "You're here."

"Of course I am." You raised an eyebrow, though it disappeared too quickly for her to process your confusion at her statement. Your smile brightened, and she could sense the teasing coming. "I'm surprised you didn't blast this tree," you commented after swallowing, smirking at her as you took another chunk off of the bar into your mouth. You seemed oblivious to her moment of reprieve (and here she was thinking she was being painfully obvious). No, you were too focused on your snack, she realized, as your eyes looked back at the bar. "How's it going?"

She cleared her throat, blinking herself out of her momentary daze to focus. You were no longer looking at the food, your chin tilted up towards the sky to let the falling snowflakes land on your face, your eyes closed. Were you resentful? You seemed heavenly, unburdened. As if the small puffs of snow was lifting all of the weight off your shoulders. The last encounter between you and her did not end on good terms. No, she remembers snapping at you vividly, calling you selfish, a coward. It was uncalled for. And she had been suffering in guilt ever since.

At least the guilt acted as a temporary blocker for the grief.

"Y/N, I'm so sor-"

"Hey, you lost your friend." She furrowed her eyebrows briefly, turning her head in the direction she thinks Natasha had ventured off in. "The redhead." She sighed heavily, her head shaking subtly as her lips pursed tightly. The snow was quick to cover the former assassin’s inconspicuous footprints, leaving Wanda turned around.

She looked back at you, and your cheeky grin managed to help her relax. She wasn't panicking, she wasn’t frightened, she wasn’t nervous, she felt… calm. She was lost, sure, but you were lost with her. She didn’t have to worry, she knew you weren’t going to leave her. Despite everything that had happened last time.

“Can we talk?” She stepped towards you as you popped the rest of the bar into your mouth, crumpling the wrapper into your fist once more before shoving the trash into your jacket pocket. Your jaw moved, chewing as you watched her, a corner of your lip tugged up into a sly smirk, before your head turned away from her to look at your surroundings, breathing out a puff of smoke. “I just want to apol-”

“I’m not really the biggest fan of the cold,” you confessed, your voice muffled against the mouthful of food, though she heard you loud and clear. She released a soft sigh, slightly annoyed by your interruptions, swallowing the last of the protein bar. “I hope you know the way.” You looked back at her, flashing your pearly whites.

She wanted to talk to you about it. Apologize. It’d be a quick conversation if you forgive her. But, by the looks of it, you seemed just as you were before it was all said. She couldn’t decide if you were letting her off the hook by the constant butting in, or even if you remembered anything about it, and she was sure you’d only cut her off again if she attempted to apologize a third time. She’d get it in eventually, you were too fast for her at the moment. She needed to catch you off guard. “Yes,” she lied, gesturing in a random direction. “It’s this way.” She began walking away from you, and she tried to subtly glance over her shoulder to see if you were following her.

You were.

“You sure you know where you’re going?” She could hear the smirk in your voice, the teasing tone. You knew how to get there, she realized, and she could tell she was going the wrong way by your playful mocking. “I could help you. All you gotta do is ask.”

She continued forward, thankful you weren’t looking at her to see her facade crack as a smile grew on her face. “I got this.” She decided to take a turn. If she were going in the wrong direction, she might as well change it. “So, how long have you had those powers of yours?”

“Less than a year.” Your answer seemed automatic, as if she were talking to a robot programmed with prearranged responses. Though it did tell her that her brother held his powers a bit longer than you did, which could’ve fooled her. As quick as he was to adapt to the super speed, it seems you have adjusted to the change a lot more during the short amount of time you gained your powers. She couldn’t help but wish he was here to meet you - she can only imagine all the ways he’d compete with you.

“Where’d you get them?” The air was practically soundless, aside from the crunching of leaves with every step. She was beginning to think that maybe you didn’t hear her question, that she had spoken too low to be heard. Or maybe you did hear her and are just choosing to not answer the question. She doesn’t think she’s ever heard you be this silent before, having always made some sort of noise when she was with you. Your quietness was eerie, she has decided. Make a noise, any noise.

“You might want to be careful.” That wasn’t an answer she was expecting. Were you threatening her? She couldn’t hear that usual joyous tone your voice defaults in. No, your words were on the monotone side. Bland, void of any and all emotions. She seemed to have triggered a side of you she didn’t want to see, but glad she did. She wishes she had the courage to look at you, to see your expression. Would it be just like before? A frown replacing that smile, the furrow in between your eyebrows pulled out by anger. Only this time, it’d be more genuine. More… bone-chilling.

She froze at the sound of an alarm sounding off in the distance, somewhere behind her, and every question she had formed in her mind was now pointing at the loud, obnoxious noise alerting everyone in the area. She heard you sigh, a slight laugh, as she turned back to look at you.

“I did say to be careful, no?” You smirked at her, and she found herself to be relieved of the smile. If you’re smiling, surely the situation can’t be too bad, right? “HYDRA fitted the perimeter with some sensors,” you explained. “They seemed to have finally learned from their many, many mistakes.” She wondered how much of a nuisance you truly are to HYDRA.

Your smirk turned into a beaming grin as you crossed your arms over your chest, pausing. The element of surprise was no longer on their side, she sees that now. And she knew exactly what you were waiting for.

“Alright, fine,” she expressed, shaking her head. “Will you help me?”

You hummed, resting a finger against your chin as your eyes drifted up to the sky. She breathed out impatiently, her hands gripping her hips as she awaited your response. But another second went by before she realized exactly what you were doing.

She wasn’t nice enough.

Rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest, she tried again, “Will you please help me, Y/N?”

You released a hearty laugh, clapping your hands together enthusiastically as you looked back at her. She hated it, she loved it. “Come on then.” You stepped towards her, and she released a squeal when you scooped her up in your arms, bridal style fashion. And she found herself gripping onto you tightly when her surroundings became a blur, looking out the window of a speeding vehicle was nothing compared to this. Her stomach twisted, her chest lurched, and she felt… amazing. She was convincing herself that it was just how fast she was moving, yet her heart said otherwise. The closeness to you, it brought a tingling sensation in her bones that she desired just as strongly as the first time you had touched her.

Her feet had landed on the ground before she could process much of anything else, her body left cold as your arms were no longer wrapped around her. What was this feeling forming in her gut? It wasn't a sort of affection, was it? The butterflies were stronger than ever, it seems, and her skin burned from where you had held her, lingering with the yearning to feel your touch again. Her mind still reeled from the quick travel as she thought that it wouldn't have been fair to her brother to compare the experiences. He was fast, there was no doubt about that, but you were faster. Impossibly so. She had a million more questions forming in her mind, and not enough time to ask them.

Smoke. It filled her nostrils, corrupting her senses enough to pull her out of her thoughts. Something was burning. Something was on fire. She was on alert, her eyes snapping onto you to catch you pulling yourself out of your own daze. You smelled it, too.

“You’re on fire.” Your voice held a hint of wariness while your hands went towards her chest, but you were quick to pull back once you thought it through. Panic struck her as her chin fell towards the floor, catching the illuminating sparks spreading throughout her jacket.

Her movements were quick, instinctive; get away from the fire. But if the fire was on you, then you had to get it away from you. Her hands moved faster than she had thought possible, unzipping her jacket and quickly throwing it to the floor. Her foot dug into the fabric as the chill of the air swept through the hallway and into her skin. Goosebumps formed on her arms as she looked back at you, meeting your gaze.

Her cheeks burned red in irritation, embarrassment, as her arms wrapped around herself in an attempt to equal the sudden loss of clothing, her eyebrows furrowing together as her eyes narrowed tightly at you. She was angry, only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see that, yet you seemed to ignore the fury written on her face. You were smiling, and it only seemed to make her even angrier as you breathed out a light chuckle. “I didn’t realize that would’ve happened,” you confessed, shaking your head. You smiled softly at her, innocently, and she could already feel the rage flowing through her blood begin to waver. “I haven’t carried anybody before.” Another chuckle, only this time she could sense a bit of your own embarrassment in the sound. You rubbed the back of your neck, taking a small step back.

She stared at you for a moment, an eyebrow raised greatly, eyes locked onto each other as if you were both caught in some sort of trance. The sorrow in your eyes, the small, self-conscious smile, it made the anger she felt slowly dwindle. And, it was in that moment of silence between you and her, as her heart managed to calm down in her chest, that she realized it was really quiet. “What happened to the alarm?” She was more than desperate to change the subject - the embarrassing moment needed to be forgotten, though by the way you were looking at her, she was sure it was never going to be. She took a moment to observe her surroundings, how the two of you were standing in the middle of a seemingly random hallway, it was only safe to say that you had brought her to the place she needed to be.

“I turned it off,” you answered, gripping your hips with your hands. You seemed to alleviate at her question, hearing the lack of irritation in her tone. Yet despite the carefree version of you returning, she straightened her form. She had to keep up her façade. If you knew she was warming up to you…

“When?”

“While I was carrying you.” If she was oblivious to the way you grinned at her with mock confusion, your head tilted slightly to the side as your eyebrows furrowed together very briefly, your tone told her she should’ve realized that you had silenced the alarm while you were sprinting with her in your arms, but how could she if everything were colors blurred together in incomprehensible splotches? “Come on, don’t you have a mission to do?” You gestured for her to follow you as you turned away from her, and the smallest of smiles plagued her lips as she noted your refusal to leave her to do her own thing. She followed you.

She wanted to ask you where you’ve been. Your absence the past three missions had a much bigger effect on her than she had originally thought, having you here now made her feel at peace. As friendly as the team was towards her, there was something about you that made her happier. You made her feel less alone, less dejected, despite being surrounded by people practically every day. You seemed to take the time to listen to her, to see her, as your attention was on nothing but her. But she knew that if she questioned your whereabouts, you’d most likely tease her about it. Still, she had to know. “So, what’ve you been up to lately?” There. The way she had worded it made it seem like she wasn’t asking for the sake of herself. It was a simple icebreaker. A conversation starter. A way for her to be nosy without seeming as such.

“I had other business to attend to,” you answered, and she was relieved that you didn’t see right through her. Maybe you’re not as perceptive as she was led to believe. “Why? Did you miss me?” She was wrong.

“No.” It was a quick response, snappy and flat, but maybe it was a bit too quick. Her eagerness to shrug off your accusation could make her seem guilty of being the exact opposite.

You laughed softly as you turned around to look at her, yet you didn’t stop walking. “I hate to break it to you, but your heartbeat is like a jackhammer when you lie.” Your words seemed to echo in her mind, and it took her a moment to process that you had stopped walking until the last second. Your closeness to her, she could practically feel your breath fanning across her face when you breathed out yet another laugh.

Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushed, and she was suddenly cognizant of the rapid beating against her ribcage. Was her heart trying to break free?! She could feel it carving a hole in her bones. And your face, so smug, so happy, so… close. Could you feel her heart, too? The red coloring her features betrayed her. All she had to do was take a deep breath and take one, small, itty bitty step backward to give her the chance to clear her mind and think, but when you  took a small portion of your bottom lip between your teeth, a smirk to follow, she suddenly forgot how to breathe.

Her mouth propped open, and the sound she made could be mistaken as an actual word, “I-”

“Relax,” you expressed, chuckling heartily as you took a step back. “I’m only kidding. I can’t hear your heart.” She tittered nervously, breathing out in relief as you turned around to continue walking correctly this time. She hesitated a moment, using this second to catch her breath before trailing after you.

“Do you know where you’re going?” She finally found her voice, an attempt to change the subject, to get her mind off her racing heart. She was too flustered to say it in a joking manner as you had outside - the heat in her cheeks doesn't seem to be going away any time soon. And she's still begrudgingly very sensitive to the intense drum solo happening in her chest.

“No idea,” you confessed, falling victim to the subject change as you turned your head to look over your shoulder towards her, “but that’s the thrill of it all, isn’t it? The mystery. The secrets.” You winked at her - you actually winked - before returning your eyes forward.

She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of secrets you were withholding. You played the persona of an opened book, a trick you used to fool people into trusting you, yet she sees now that your “opened” book only displayed the first page. And she only wanted to uncover everything you were hiding, to know you on a deeper level. To read chapters you had locked seemingly long ago. Your powers are an enigma, but she was more than willing to take the time to solve that puzzle. “Y/N,” she started, yet her sentence ended before it even began. She didn’t know what she had planned on saying, and she knew she had your instant attention by the way your form straightened at the sound of your name. Maybe she just liked the way your name felt passing her lips, how it formed on her tongue. She doesn't think it'd ever get old, saying your name. But that wasn't a viable reason to have said it, not now, at least. She had to say something else before the silence in the air as you waited grew to be awkward. "What was the flower?" Really, Wanda?

You turned to look at her, an eyebrow slightly raised in confusion, yet your lips still formed some sort of smile. "The flower?" And then you laughed before her mind could even begin to find the words to form an explanation. "Ah, it was a daisy, I presume," you answered. "I didn't even think you'd remember such a thing."

The months old stem of the daisy sat on her nightstand, granting her a clear view of it every day, how could she ever forget? But she has the feeling she shouldn’t let you know that minor detail. No, she could already imagine the never-ending teasing. "It's kind of hard to forget a failed attempt at flattery," she decided, shrugging despite you not looking at her anymore. You laughed, a shake of your head, and Wanda knew it came out a bit harsh, but it was better than the truth.

She continued to follow you as you fell into melodic hum, yet just like before, it was too fast for her to identify the exact song, turning left or right through the halls of the base when appropriate, and it took her a moment to finally realize that there hasn’t been a single encounter with any HYDRA agents yet. The building was seemingly empty, not another living soul in sight. And though it would’ve been safe to assume that Natasha had already sauntered down these halls in all her glory, that wasn’t the case either. The floors were clear of any bodies - dead or alive. When the alarm had gone off, being heard throughout the forest, surely they would’ve been more on guard having been alerted to intruders.

“Where is everybody?” Whatever melody it was you were humming, it cut off abruptly at the sound of Wanda’s voice. Your form tensed very briefly, and it seemed you had forgotten of her presence. Her footsteps were fairly quiet, she’d admit that, and the silence between the two of you did linger for quite a bit before she had interrupted it. She didn’t blame you for losing yourself in your own thoughts as she had hers, but she also wondered just how many thoughts you did have compared to her one during the peaceful stroll. It killed her, not being able to read your mind.

“I’m not sure,” you shrugged, “but we’re here.” You turned sharply, opening a door with no issue. She watched as you entered the room, looking around for a moment. The enemy building was way too quiet, and it set her nerves on edge. You were already on the computer by the time she followed you.

“Do you think you’re going to tell me what you’re here for?” she pried, moving to stand next to you. She didn’t even bother focusing on the screen, the text and images flickering way too fast for her mind to keep up. Instead, she watched you. Your eyes shifted to match the speed of the computer, and your leg bounced as your fingers moved at an incomprehensible pace. “Surely, you’re not here for the same reason we are.”

“And what is it you’re here for?” you returned, leaning back in the chair to look up at her. It gave her a moment to process the screen, yet it was just a jumble of letters and numbers she couldn’t interpret. She had a feeling you already knew the answer to the question, you had managed to complete the mission for her last time. You had to have known. There wasn't a way for you to not to, the way Natasha falsely praised her for a job well done even after having said all the wrong things to you told her you had done exactly what SHIELD was looking for. Speaking of…

“Y/N, I’m sor-”

“Is there a reason you keep trying to say that to me?” You rested your chin in your hand, your elbow on the chair’s arm, as you looked up at her through your eyelashes. The smile, that stupid smile she keeps falling for, seemed to be forever permanent on your face. Engraved in stone. Did you truly forget? It feels like it’s been forever, it could’ve been expunged from your memory if it didn’t really bother you, but that moment… That fleeting moment where that grin of yours had disappeared. She had to clear her conscience.

“Yes,” she declared, a bit more dominantly now. She was putting her foot down, she was going to say sorry and you were going to hear it. “The last encounter we had, I had said some awful things to you.” She was too caught up in the moment to realize your eyebrows furrowing, your hand falling from your face as your posture straightened. “And I just need you to let me apologize because it’s the right thing to do when you regret something you did.” She breathed in deeply, releasing it slowly, waiting for your voice to cut through the air, but as seconds ticked by and nothing was said, she took the opportunity of your stunned silence to say, “I’m-” Her apology, once again, got cut off, but it was her own doing this time. Her voice got caught in her throat as you got to your feet, leaving the computer behind as you made your way to the door.

She trailed after you, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you stepped out into the hall. The air grew colder the further you ventured, sending goosebumps down her arms and causing her to shiver. It held the familiarity of being outside, having the ability to see her own breath when a huff parted her lips. She kept her eyes on you, watching you move slower than she ever has. She wished she could see your face, to see what you were thinking. Because, despite not being able to read your mind, your eyes gave her enough information to quench her thirst for your thoughts. But, right now, the only thing she could feel was cold.

“We need to go.” If it wasn’t for the bite of cold traveling through the air, your dark, low voice would’ve been the reason for the chills crawling up her spine, forcing her into another tremble. Your hand reached back, and she instantly moved her arm to meet you halfway. Warmth spread through her wrist when you gripped it, giving her a brief yet strong reprieve from the freezing atmosphere. “Come on.”

“What’s going on?” She didn't stop you from tugging her down the hall. For a brief second, she wondered why you didn't just pick her up and run if you were so desperate to get out of here, but the reason for her lacking a certain jacket stuck out like a sore thumb. She didn't need to be losing her shirt at the moment, so she kept her mouth shut as you paused to peek around the corner.

You looked over your shoulder, presumably to make sure nobody was behind you, but your eyes instantly met hers and it looked like all the worrying and dwelling plaguing your irises faded as you allowed yourself to get lost in the fields of grass in her eyes. For a moment, your grip on her wrist tightened, and the burn from your touch only grew brighter. Those damn butterflies manifested to life, fluttering in her gut as her chest felt hot and light. And, when her mind demanded her to blink, she had to force herself to do such a thing, setting you both free of the trance you and her had fallen into. You cleared your throat, your hand releasing her, and she had opened her mouth to argue, but immediately clamped it shut.

You had noted her stance, how she had self-consciously wrapped her arms around herself to fight against the cold the moment you released her, and she watched with curious eyes as you shrugged your jacket off, extending the article of clothing towards her. She hesitated a moment, looking up to your face, and your slight nod convinced her to take it from you - it was the least you could do, a jacket for a jacket seemed fair - and pulled it on. Chills crawled up her spine as your scent seemed to pervade the air - an ozone aroma with a hint of warm vanilla, sweet and pungent. She sucked in a deep breath, letting the fragrance overwhelm her senses. She felt nothing but serenity.

Your hand touched her elbow for a short moment before it left, and she briefly regretted putting the jacket on. Skin on skin contact with you granted her a temporary bliss she desired more of. Finally, you turned away from her and rounded the corner with the curious witch right on your heels. It was a quick moment, how you had been in her line of sight one second and gone the next, and there was a short-lived thought in her mind that you had used your speed to leave her behind (for real, this time) until the floor beneath her feet seemed to start moving. She looked down, her hand pressing against the wall in an attempt to keep her footing as she focused on the thick glaze of pure ice covering the ground, starting from here and going towards the end of the hall. How you hadn't noticed the skating rink before was beyond her. She looked at you, having succumbed to the ice as you slowly, carefully got to your knees, and there was a part of her that held the instinct to help you, to reach out to you, but she was still trying to keep her own balance. She knew that if she gave in to that instinct, she, too, would be on the floor.

"You need to go." You didn't even bother looking in her direction, lifting one leg to place a foot on the frosted floor, and putting your hands behind you to use the wall as a crutch. You were foolish to believe she would follow such an order. There was a reason the floor was iced over, the air was colder, and you were nervous. She wasn't going to leave you behind, just as you hadn't left her behind.

But before she could verbally reject your demand, there was a deep, mocking laugh reverberating around her skull. You managed to get both feet on the ground, leaning against the wall and staying perfectly still when you finally stood up, turning your head towards the sound. She followed your stare, her stomach dropping at the sight of a woman effortlessly strolling towards you. She seemed to have no issue on the ice, walking as if it were just a typical, everyday floor. And Wanda wasn't blind to her hands - a light blue that matched more of the ice than it did the rest of her skin, thin streams of white fog radiating off of her fingers - and her vibrant, snow-silver hair only made her seem more wicked. It was clear that the woman with the sinister smile was at fault for the hallway-turned-hockey-rink.

You did the best you could to stand in front of Wanda, briefly losing your footing to protect her from whatever this woman planned on doing. She laughed some more, continuing her gradual pace, seeming as if she were a hunter stalking its prey, and she certainly looked like she enjoyed playing with her food. You stepped back, forcing Wanda to move along with you, as the woman’s wicked smile deepened. She dragged her nails along the wall, a trail of ice following her touch. "You're usually gone by now, Speedy," the woman's voice, much like her powers, was cold, dark. There seemed to be a subtle echo in her words. "You feel the slightest temperature drop in the atmosphere and you're nowhere to be found." She was smiling, but there was no sign of humor in her words. She was taunting you. And, when her eyes met Wanda's peeking over your shoulder, she gasped. "But it looks like you brought me a friend."

"She isn't yours, Frosty." Your teasing manner had returned, but it wasn’t as loose and fun as it usually is. There was a strain to it Wanda could detect. Your arm - the one that wasn't using the wall as an aid - shot out to the side, another attempt to protect her. "You'd have a lot more of your own friends if you would just… chill."

Frosty, as you had called her, smiled humorously. It seemed your pun made its way to her frozen heart. And her steps had slowed to a stop, resting her hands on her hips as she looked at Wanda peeking over your shoulder. “But she’s so pretty,” she pouted.

"Hey," you whispered, loud enough for Wanda to hear, yet Frosty was oblivious, "you really should run."

"Is she telling you to run?" Frosty laughed, taking a step forward. "Is she telling you to leave? To tuck your pretty little tail in between your legs and vamoose?" She tsked, shaking her head as she rested her cold hands on her hips. "Speedy, Speedy, Speedy. Why are you always protecting the little people?"

"I'm not-"

"Why don't you turn up the heat, Frost, hmm? Make the fight a little bit more even." You were quick to cut off Wanda's defense. She was anything but little. And she certainly didn't need you to protect her.

Frosty let out a howl of laughter before it died to a scoff. "This is the first time you faced me head on in years. You always run away from me, Speedy,” she declared, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. She crossed her arms over her chest, making her little tantrum complete, but she was quick to shrug it all away. “I think I'm actually going to make it more enjoyable for me." She lifted her hands, the thin, foggy vapor that had expelled from her fingers grew to be a steady stream. The walls frosted over with patches of ice, and the air declined to lower temperatures, causing Wanda to shiver slightly in an effort to fight against the cold. She was ultimately thankful for your jacket, but wondered how you were faring. Frosty's laugh bounced around in her skull as your hand left the wall, standing as tall and as proud as you could on the slippery ground. The witch glanced behind her, and her jaw clenched tightly when she saw that the rest of the floor was no longer safe to walk across, the ice creating a path that disappeared around the corner.

Even if she wanted to leave, it'd take her a while to do that.

Wanda noticed the slight inability for you to keep your footing, your feet subtly sliding as you constantly alternated adjustment. With the frosty floor, it's impossible for you to get enough traction to walk, never mind run. Frosty had an advantage over you; one step and you're already on the ground. This was another opportunity for Wanda to show off. Maybe get higher than a seven.

A seven. She involuntarily scoffed at the memory, and it drew a low chuckle out of you at the sound. It seemed that neither of you were focused on what Frosty over there was saying. Maybe you were lost in your own thoughts as well. She shivered once more, wrapping her arms around herself, as her eyes wandered over to you. The side of your face, she could memorize it. After this, who knows how long it'll be before she sees you again. She didn't manage to get a keepsake, either, so the stem of the daisy would have to do for now.

An image crossed her vision, briefly, but it was long enough for her to see what it was. She wouldn't forget what she looks like, her own face flashing in front of her eyes. She didn't think anything of it, trying to pivot her attention back onto the conversation between you and Frosty now that you decided to return focus on it, but when another picture of her entered her mind yet again, she was no longer concerned about the villainous ice witch.

She looked back at you, delving into your mind in another attempt to read your speeding thoughts. Such degrees of extreme cold not only took away your ability to run, but it seemed to dampen your powers altogether, at least enough for her to make out a few of the images you were picturing in that brain of yours. Her. You were thinking about her. Surely her safety would be on the top of your head, you wouldn't want her getting hurt. But it still warmed her heart to know that she was on your mind.

"Enough." Frosty's harsh, demanding voice cut through her thoughts and whatever it was you were saying, another chill ran through her body as she took a careful step to the side. Her icy, piercing cerulean eyes seemed to melt into Wanda's vibrant green ones, a smirk lifting a corner of her pale blue lips. "Let me show our new friend how fun it is to play with me."

"Why do you have to make everything sound so creepy?" you breathed out, and Wanda had to look down to hide the grin slowly forming on her face. "It just feels like you're trying to lure her into a van, Frosty. Let's try it again, only this time, cool it with the deep voice, okay? You're not Batman."

Frosty straightened her form, her head tilting to the side slightly as her arms lowered, her eyebrows scrunching deeply together with confusion. "Let's play a game?" she offered instead, looking to you for approval.

"Are you even trying to be original because now you're just Jigsaw at this point," you expressed, gently moving your hand towards Wanda to push her slightly. She slid back, pressing against the opposite wall to keep from falling, and she finally realized what it was you were doing. Distracting Frosty just long enough for Wanda to escape. Do you not understand how adamant she was about staying? Push her all you want, she wasn't leaving. "Look, how about we practice over some coffee? It'll warm those vocal chords right up."

Frosty's eyes narrowed as she, too, realized what exactly you were doing. Her jaw clenched, and the furrow of confusion that had formed in between her eyebrows converted to anger. Her hand lifted, but Wanda couldn't tell if she was aiming her fingers at you or her, though it didn't matter. The smoke around her fingers thickened and you moved to pull Wanda towards you just as a barrage of icicles flew past where she was standing, flinching at the sound they made as they pierced through the wall behind her.

The force you had used to pull her, it caused you both to lose your footing as her hand instinctively pressed against your shoulder, forcing you both to fall to your knees. Laughter rang in her ears, Frosty marching towards you as your palms pushed into the ice, leaning into Wanda in an effort to stay in between her and the ice witch. But Wanda couldn't seem to take her eyes off of you.

"You never did like the cold, did you, Speedy?" She continued to laugh as you picked your head up to look at her. You breathed out, a fleeting, misty cloud escaping your lips as Wanda watched your ear slightly move as a smirk tugged a corner of your lips. "I guess I'm to blame for that, aren't I?"

You picked your body up, resting on your legs. Wanda figured it would be no use to get to her feet - she'd most likely end up back on the ground two seconds later - but the cold ice was melting into her pants, numbing her knees.

"It's unfortunate that I'm not allowed to kill you," Frosty continued, her eyes averting towards Wanda as the menacing grin grew wider, "but your little friend, on the other hand, is free game."

Wanda lifted her hand, red slowly covering her green irises, but your fingers wrapped around her wrist in an instant, pushing her arm down. "Wait," you whispered. The crimson diminished in her eyes as quickly as it had appeared, revealing that vibrant green once more. When you spoke again, your voice was louder, aiming your words to Frosty, "Come on, Frosty, you know I'm not going to let that happen."

She hummed, shrugging loosely. "Let's find out." She raised her hand, palm towards you, and you barely had time to react as you turned towards Wanda to wrap your arms around her. You breathed out slowly, Wanda losing herself once more in your eyes. In this moment, in this time, nothing else seemed to matter to her but you. The world fading into darkness, the cold traveling up her legs no longer a concern, and everything slowed down to a crawl as she smiled at you. Lost in another trance, she wanted to feel you, skin to skin. She wanted to let her fingers dance across your jaw, to memorize the feel of your face. But the smile on her face dissolved just as fast as it had appeared when everything caught up to her.

The world, the desensitization in her knees, it all came back into focus as time moved faster. There was a sound… A sound that made Wanda's stomach twist with disgust, and the way you hissed out in pain as your eyes squeezed shut, it made her blood boil in anger. But the only noise she could make was a gasp when the tip of an icicle poked out of your shoulder, a strong, chilling gust of wind forcing you to slide away from her.

Wanda looked up, Frosty closer than she was five seconds ago, as anger appeared in her green eyes. But the ice witch seemed to not be bothered by the fury written on the scarlet witch's face, her marching continuing just as strong and confident as it was before. Your sounds of pain only tipped the scale for Wanda as she struggled to climb to her feet, but a cold, dead hand wrapped around her throat, helping her stand as she was forced backwards until her back and the iced wall behind her violently greeted each other.

She looked into Frosty's pale blue eyes, her jaw clenched with anger as the ice witch's smile remained. "What is it with you trying to protect useless people, Speedy?" Frosty questioned, her voice hinting that she found the whole situation humorous in a sadistic fashion.

“You missed something, Frost,” you expressed, a tired laugh coming from your throat as you sat up against the wall, "she is far from useless. And… she definitely doesn't need my protection."

Wanda's eyes glowed a dangerous red, and it was quick to wipe the smile from Frosty's face. With a flick of her wrist, the ice queen flew through the air, landing on the ground with a thump as she slid back against the ice. Wanda's head tilted to the side, watching her rapidly climb to her feet, and she easily tossed the volley of incoming icicles to the side when Frosty sent them towards her with desperation. They shattered against the frozen wall, and you laughed lightly when the ice witch looked towards you, her face no longer holding that mocking smile. Wanda brought her hands up, red tendrils dancing around her fingers. Frosty’s jaw clenched, rage coloring her features in a glow of hatred, yet none of it was as terrifying as the scarlet witch’s fury.

A ball of red energy formed in between Wanda’s palms, encasing it in a cage made of fingers, but it seems the ice witch had no intentions of continuing the fight. With a wave of her hands, a wall of ice formed in front of her, granting her a means of escape without further conflict. But, the moment Frosty was out of sight, the wrath that caused Wanda to tense her shoulders evaporated, a foggy breath escaping her throat as her eyes landed on you. You were still hurt, and you needed help.

She was on the ground the moment she took a step, but that didn’t dissuade her from reaching you. You breathed out, a puff of smoke passing through your lips, as you nodded in approval. “This could’ve been avoided,” Wanda pointed out, gesturing towards the icicle protruding from your shoulder. You grinned, a cheeky smile that made the uncomfortable feeling in the witch’s gut melt away. If you were smiling, then there was nothing to worry about, yet the piece of ice lodged through your body should tell her otherwise.

“You’re right,” you agreed. “You didn’t leave when I told you to.”

No, of course she didn’t. She wasn’t going to abandon you, but she certainly couldn’t admit that. “Last I checked, you don't hold any authority over me.” You laughed lightly, and the sound alone caused the butterflies to flit about in her stomach. “Come on, you need medical attention.”

You sighed out breathlessly, a soft laugh hidden amongst the puff of air parting your smiling lips. “What hurts today, hurts less tomorrow.” She watched you for a moment, the way your eyes fluttered close as your head leaned against the wall behind you. It would have been a beautiful sight if it wasn’t for the fact that you were bleeding into an icicle.

She moved to pull you to your feet, and your arms wrapped around her in a way that made it feel like a hug. She was frozen for a brief moment, her heart beating rapidly in her chest at the sheer closeness of you, but you tightening your hold on her in an effort to stand up made her snap out of her daze.

Her feet slid as she helped you maneuver across the frosted floor, using the wall as a crutch as the thick barrier of ice was left behind. You were freezing, she could see that by the way your pale, blue lips trembled and body shook, and she knew she needed to get you into a warmer environment before you freeze to death. The further away from the cold you got, the more effective your powers would be.

It was warm enough now that Wanda would feel comfortable taking your jacket off, but that would mean she would no longer be breathing in your scent. She kept it on even when the slow, tear-shaped beads of sweat began to slide down her temple. It was hot, and it only seemed to be getting hotter. She stopped moving when you did, your face grimacing in pain as you reached over your shoulder, but she was quick to grip your wrist in an effort to stop you.

“I need to pull it out,” you breathed out. She was no doctor, but she was positive keeping it in was the best thing.

“Pulling it out isn’t what you need to be doing, Y/N,” she interrupted. “I’m not going to let you put yourself more at risk than you already are.”

“It won’t heal if I leave it in,” you told her.

Her brother flashed across her mind, the amount of bullet holes riddling his lifeless body. His healing power wasn’t enough to save him and, despite how hard she spent comparing the two of you, she refused to see how you and him were any different. Her chest tightened, her jaw clenched, and she had to rapidly blink to get rid of the moisture building up in her eyes. She was too distraught from the memory of Pietro that you managed to tear free from her hold. There was no use in getting you to leave the injury alone, so she turned away from you as you continued down your path of recklessness. She knew you were choking back your screams of agony, but the whimpers she could hear caused her nose to burn. She looked back at you when there was no other sound, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. Your face was flushed, eyes glossed over with unshed tears of pain, yet you still flashed her a wide grin.

“See?” You gestured to your shoulder, the blood of having been stabbed stained your clothes and skin, but there was no other sign of the wound. The skin showing through the hole in your shirt was unmarked. She couldn't help herself, lifting her arm and running her fingers over where the wound once was. She could feel the heat running through her blood, stronger than the high temperature flowing through the air, and she was instantly lost in the feeling of you, skin on skin, though it wasn’t as much exposure as she seemed to desire. You shrugged, holding up the blood-covered icicle as her hand resentfully fell away from you, an “I told you so” smirk lifting your lips, and she shook her head in annoyance. She marched forward, leaving you behind and shaking off the haziness touching you brought.

But, as she turned the corner, she came to a complete stop, releasing a breath at the shirtless, glistening man blocking the path to the exit. His laughter matched Frosty’s - ominously sinister, though it did hold a bit of a lighter tone than his counter part - when Wanda felt you join her.

“Speedy! There you are!” He clapped his hands together, his smile wide. “I was hoping to get to you first, but it seems like you’ve already bumped into my sister.” He gestured towards the icicle in your hand, a low, rough chuckle coming from his chest. “It seems like she didn’t finish the job, though. Just my luck.”

“Blaze! Oh, boy, how I missed you, you sweaty sonuvagun. It’s unfortunate that our little reunion won’t be long,” you expressed, holding the icicle in front of Wanda for her to grab. Which she did, much to her confusion. The frozen piece was melting in her hand, though it was mostly due to the extreme heat radiating off of Blaze.

“Already?” he questioned, and Wanda thought for sure his jaw was going to fall off with how wider his smile got. Does it ever stop growing? “The party’s just starting now.”

“We do have other obligations, Hothead.” As if on cue, water fell from the sky, heavier than a normal, state approved sprinkler system, instantly soaking all of you. The fire engulfing Blaze's aura was smothered beneath the rain, a sizzling sound was subtle beneath his shouts of shock, and a gasp constricted Wanda's throat when her feet left the ground, your arms holding her up as if you were newlyweds walking into your new house.

She didn't get a chance to process much of anything else before her surroundings blurred together in a flurry of irregular colors and abstract shapes. A sense of deja vu filled her gut as the distance between her and Blaze grew with every millisecond, clutching onto you tightly as if you were going to drop her at any moment.

Her stomach fluttered as she buried her head into your shoulder, breathing in your scent straight from the source, yet it didn't last nearly as long as she liked. Her feet were back on the ground a mere second later, stumbling forward as her mind didn't get the chance to process the unexpected stop. She was thankful she had the jeep to keep her from falling, though using it as a crutch didn’t help her realize that she was outside until she breathed in the fresh, cool air. She straightened her form, her hands flying away from the car as she turned around in search of you, and her heart settled in her chest when she saw your smiling face. But she smothered the feeling of warmth, forcing her expression to display exasperation as her jaw grew rigid and her fists tightened by her sides. Though the anger she exhibited was enough to cause someone like Frosty to shiver in her boots, it clearly had no effect on you as you began opening yet another protein bar.

“Wasn’t that exciting?” You grinned widely at her, though your eyes didn’t leave the food in your hands.

“Why didn’t you do that in the first place?” she demanded, your eyes flickering to her. Sure, she already knew the answer to the question, but how else was she supposed to be dramatic if she didn’t demand to know something. You bit a chunk of the bar into your mouth and began to slowly chew, taking a moment to enjoy whatever flavor the bland-looking bar is, staring at her as if she didn’t just ask a question. She threw her arms up as she turned away from you, shaking her head in anger as a scoff scratched her throat. “Why do I even bother with you?”

There was a few seconds of silence before you spoke, “I’m not the biggest fan of the cold.” She recalled you saying such a thing before, though she figured it was just a comment on the natural weather, not on a psychopathic ice witch.

“It makes you slower.” You nodded in agreement, swallowing your mouthful of food. “But you felt her coming, why didn’t you just-”

“Leave?” You made eye contact with the green-eyed witch, a small, warm smile tugging your lips. “I’m not particularly interested in letting Frosty’s kill count go up.”

“You knew I could handle her.”

“I wasn’t going to take the chance.”

“And Blaze?”

“He’s a bit easier to fight than his sister. I just had to wait for the sprinklers to turn on,” you said. “Water and fire don’t really mix that well. And I wasn’t going to run with you when you were dry. What if you lost your pants? I’m definitely not letting you use mine.” You sent her a grin when a light pink colored her cheeks at the thought of losing another article of clothing, causing her to cross her arms over her chest and look down to the ground in between her feet. “You’re welcome for drying you, by the way. I took the long route for maximum dryness.” As if she would’ve noticed which route you took. It was all the same to her - one second, she was facing off against a vindictive hothead, the next, she was leaning against the jeep. “Any more questions, Darling?”

Yes, she had many questions regarding the situation, but… her mind had suddenly focused on the twisting feeling tightening her gut. That name. That silly, little nickname you had given her because you were unclear on her real name. Wanda. She wanted to tell you. To hear it in your voice. To have her name come off your tongue in that annoyingly happy tone of yours. But the way you said darling. Soft, sweet, playful. She didn't want you to stop. And she had thought you did. After the anger she had felt demanded you to get rid of it, she has yet to hear you say it since. It must’ve been a slip, that playful teasing causing you to relax a bit more now that the imminent danger is gone.

She cleared her throat, attempting to suffocate the fire in her stomach, but it was no use. It only grows brighter the longer she’s around you. Yet your soft laugh managed to bring her out of her daze, refocusing on you as you moved the protein bar to your mouth to take another bite. But her question interrupted your actions, “Why won’t you let me apologize to you for what happened last time?” You blinked, and there was a very brief second that told her she caught you off guard by her question as you moved your hand away from your mouth.

“You can’t take away a mistake by wishing it so,” you answered without missing a beat. “You make a choice, don’t look back. Regret and guilt are demons you choose to live with to get what you want.” It felt surreal to hear such deep words come from you, your voice earnest. She watched you take another bite of your protein bar, a faint weight lifting off her shoulders as your resolve seemed to evaporate, smiling at her once again. She knew you knew she was regretful of her actions, and though you didn’t want her to say sorry, you knew she was. That seemed to be enough for her.

A twig snapping in the distance caused her to turn her attention to it, a sigh parting her lips as she watched Natasha step into view, and the quick flash of movement in the corner of her eye told her that you had departed at the sound of the redhead’s arrival once more. “Wanda?” The former assassin made her way to the witch. “What happened?”

Sure, Wanda was new to this whole spy thing, but anybody would’ve noticed the fact that Natasha was drier than she should be. With the entire building’s sprinkler system going off in retaliation to Blaze’s heat, she knew for sure the redhead should be drenched in water. She didn’t really have a speedster to dry her out. “I encountered an issue near the control room,” Wanda answered, shaking her head slightly. “I couldn’t get the data we came here for. Did you have any luck?”

“No,” Natasha responded, sighing lightly as she crossed her arms over her chest, “but we’ve been compromised so we need to go before they bring backup.” She gestured towards the jeep with a nod of her head, and Wanda watched her make her way to the driver’s side as she shoved her hands into the jacket pocket.

When her fingers came into contact with something, she furrowed her eyebrows with confusion and pulled it out. The wrapper from your protein bar, she now remembered you shoving it into your jacket. It gave her the opportunity to get a better look at the design, knowing Russian food like this wasn’t necessarily a common thing around here. The light blue packaging, the bright yellow foreign letters - ТЫСЯЧА - and the lack of nutritional information on the back of the wrapper, it was nothing Wanda has ever seen before. Perhaps it’d make the exotic food easier to track down. Maybe she could recruit Natasha’s help - the Russian was always down to solve a mystery.

She flinched when the redhead’s voice reached her ears, Wanda looking over her shoulder to see the passenger window rolled down and Natasha leaning forward to look at the dazed witch. She blinked, looking down at the wrapper once more before shoving it back into her pocket to load into the jeep.

Should she find it odd that Natasha - the most attentive person the Sokovian has ever met - didn’t comment on her new jacket? Surely she would’ve noticed such an obvious difference. Yet the ride back to the Avengers compound was just as it was on the way to the mission, quiet. Not even the sound of the radio to soothe out the silence. Wanda couldn’t help but send subtle glances towards the seasoned agent, chewing the inside of her cheek as she leaned back into the seat. Maybe Wanda should say something. Should SHIELD know about you? Maybe they’d work to recruit you if they knew of your existence. And that’d give Wanda the chance to see you more than she does because now? Well, now she doesn’t know when she’s going to see you. Would you show up the next mission? Or will it be another three until your next appearance? Or more? This whole thing seemed to only give her a headache.

“Got something on your mind?” Natasha’s voice broke through her thoughts, and the witch looked at her to see the slight smirk tugging the corner of her lips. She was obviously aware of Wanda’s not-so-subtle glances, that was for sure. She should confess, tell the redhead everything. She knew Natasha could keep a secret, and she knew she’d help her track you down.

She sighed, fully looking at the former assassin with pursed lips. Your name was on the tip of her tongue, her heart beating steadily in her chest. This was the chance, reveal everything. And when she opened her mouth, her form straightening with confidence, the only thing she managed to mutter was, “Just a headache.” She closed her eyes shut tightly, disappointed with herself as she breathed out slowly through her nose. Why was it so hard? It should be simple to tell Natasha the truth. All she had to do was say your name and everything would come spilling out, but it was easier said than done.

“There’s some painkillers in the glovebox,” the redhead offered, sending Wanda a soft smile. Though her headache wasn’t that bad, she was willing to take a pill to lead away any suspicion. With a huff, the witch reached for the handle of the glovebox. Yet instead of spotting the bottle of pain relievers, she could feel her stomach drop as she spotted a couple of familiar, light blue bars resting in the small compartment. She reached for one, pulling it out to get a better look at the protein bar because maybe, just maybe, she truly was starting to lose her mind. “I wouldn’t eat those if I were you.” Natasha’s voice - this seems to be happening more often than she’d like to admit - pulled her out of her stupor.

“What is this?” Wanda questioned.

Natasha’s knowing smirk only made Wanda more confused, looking down at the bar in her hands as she tried to wrap her mind around a possible explanation. Why did Natasha have a stockpile of protein bars tucked away in the glovebox? Protein bars that you happily ate. It gave at least one of her questions an answer; this was where you were getting your supply of snacks. But it only gave her more. Was this all a setup? She wondered just how badly the redhead wanted her to dig through the glovebox, to put two and two together, yet she couldn’t seem to do that. She was only left with more puzzles she couldn’t solve. She needed answers, yet it was just a dark, vacant space when the witch surfed the surface of her mind. Not only was she a professional in hiding and carrying many secrets, she apparently had quickly taught herself to conceal her thoughts. Perhaps to keep Wanda’s snooping at bay, though she never had a reason until now to be nosy. What was the redhead hiding?

“Nat.” Wanda turned to face the Russian as much as she can in the jeep, her jaw clenched tightly as Natasha released a breath that caused her shoulders to fall. “What is this?”

“Tysyacha,” she responded, glancing at the witch as she looked back down at the bar in her hand. “Stands for one thousand. It’s a protein bar with over a thousand calories.” Wanda’s eyes widened at the revelation. It explains why the nutritional information was hidden, though it doesn’t necessarily give her an answer as to why it was in the glove compartment.

“Why do you have it?” Natasha risked removing her eyes from the road to meet Wanda’s gaze, a warmth in her green eyes.

“She burns a lot of calories whenever she runs, so she needs as much as she can get.”

Wanda’s mouth parted open slightly at her statement. “You know.” It wasn’t a question, it was obvious now that Natasha was in the know. Yet how long would the redhead be willing to pretend you didn’t exist if she didn’t find the truth now? The back and forth on her feelings - from hate to denying affection - did Natasha know about that, too? It may not have been obvious to you what with Wanda’s constant sour face, yet you didn’t see her in a way Natasha did. “How long?”

“I met her a few months ago.” Natasha looked over at Wanda, eyeing the perplexed expression written on the Sokovian’s face. “I’ll tell you more,” she quickly assured, “but I should take you somewhere first.”

The witch huffed, slouching in her seat as she buried her nose into her shoulder. She breathed in what remained of your scent on the jacket, though it was slowly fading away. If she knew you, then you clearly knew her. And she couldn’t help but shake her head with a smile as she remembered you blatantly confessed to her that fact. I’ve seen your friend before. Though, at the time, she had accepted the declaration as having seen the Black Widow on the news. Now she knows the real meaning behind your words.

She was unsure of how much time had passed by the time Natasha pulled the jeep to a stop in front of an old-looking apartment building. Besides the SHIELD-issued car, the parking lot was vacant. The redhead didn’t miss a beat, killing the engine and climbing out of the vehicle without giving Wanda the chance to question anything. So, instead of being left in the car to wonder, she trailed after Natasha into the poorly-built structure.

Silence. It seemed to be a recurring theme between her and the former assassin, climbing up a couple of flights of stairs before Natasha slipped into a hallway, making a beeline for one of the aged doors. But after stepping into the apartment, Wanda learned the true meaning of not judging a book by its cover. Though the outside of the apartment seemed old and decrepit, the place Natasha had guided her to would’ve proved the opposite. It was a home, Wanda saw that, with multiple posters hung up on the wall by slim strips of duct tape, a desk covered of stripped electronic parts, a large pile of books resting in a corner with a few comic books sitting on top (which seemed to be mostly of Thor from what she could see), a mattress resting on the floor with covers strewn over, a dresser that obscured the only window in the room. Wanda could feel her heart beating loud yet slow in her chest as she ventured further into the room, taking a peek into a box filled with miscellaneous plastic pieces. Out of the entire building, why use only one apartment?

“Where are we?” Wanda finally questioned, turning to look at Natasha, who was watching Wanda, her arms crossed over her chest. “What-” Her voice caught in her throat when she caught sight of an opened laptop resting on a table against the wall, eyebrows furrowed as she took a closer step to get a better view. The screen displayed the all-too familiar HYDRA logo stamped onto a digital copy of a file. Her eyes scanned the words, eyebrows furrowing the longer she read. She fell into a hole of curiosity, wanting to read more of what was on the laptop, thirsty for answers nobody was giving her, but the moment she touched the mouse, the screen went black and the lights flickered off.

“Natasha Romanoff!” It was a deep, reverberated voice she wasn’t familiar with echoing throughout the room, her heart climbing up to her throat as she turned away from the laptop. “You have killed my father. Prepare to die!” Wanda gasped lightly when she saw the moving red dot on Natasha’s forehead, crimson tendrils dancing around the witch’s fingers in preparation to protect her comrade, but the smile lifting the redhead’s lips only brought Wanda to a state of confusion.

“I see you finally watched The Princess Bride like I told you to,” Natasha announced. “Come on, Y/N. You’re scaring your guest.” Wanda felt herself settle down at your name, breathing out slowly as the power radiating from her hands diminished.

“Guest?” The voice that was distorted beyond recognition became the familiar, happy sound Wanda had come to know - and begrudgingly love. She had to look away to hide her smile as you appeared next to Natasha mere moments before the lights flickered back on. You leaned towards the former assassin, your chin close to your chest. “Hey… Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“What did I tell you about bringing pretty women over here?” Your voice was low, and so was Natasha’s, but she could hear you loud and clear. She looked around to pretend she wasn’t listening (and to hide her blush) when you picked your head up.

“We didn’t talk about that,” Natasha pointed out.

“Exactly.”

“What about me?” the redhead questioned, Wanda peeking over at the two of you with curiosity. “Am I not pretty enough for you, Y/N?” She smirked at you, eyebrows bouncing in a playfully seductive manner, but the expression on your face was what caused Wanda to completely turn her back on the two of you. It was easy to muffle her chuckle, it was just becoming increasingly difficult to conceal her smile no matter how hard she bit down on her cheek.

“Ew. What are you doing with your face? Stop it.” Natasha laughed heartily as you pushed her away from you, huffing before clearing your throat to gain the witch’s attention. When she looked back at you, you were only a few feet away from her. “Welcome to my humble abode, Darling.” You held your arms out in a grand gesture as Wanda gripped her hips with her hands. “I’d give you the tour, but it seems you already saw mostly everything.” The witch stared at you with a raised eyebrow, finding no humor in your words. You looked over your shoulder towards Natasha, and the redhead sent you a subtle nod before disappearing into another room. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, yet a small smile still plagued your lips.

She was beginning to wonder if all those brief moments where your smile had faltered were even real.

“So, you already know the Avengers.”

“Actually, no,” you corrected. “Just Nat. And Clint. And the Hulk- er, Bruce. He knows of me, but we never officially met. He’s the one who made the recipe for the protein bars I eat, so I assume he knows. And now you, I guess. But the others? They don’t know of my existence. And SHIELD. They don’t know about me, either.” You cleared your throat. “Are you thirsty? Hungry? I can get you whatever you want. Chinese? I can run to China.”

“Y/N-”

“It’ll be two seconds. I’ll be back before you can say p-”

“Are you a HYDRA experiment?”

“I was gonna say pickles,” you breathed out, your shoulders slouched, and she was no longer questioning the status of your permanent smile as your lips pinched together in a tight, thin line. No grin in sight. You glanced over your shoulder to where Natasha had gone, and she was wondering if you were seeking for a window of opportunity to disappear, to avoid the confrontation. Yet if that were the case, you would’ve quite literally disappeared.

She stepped closer to you, her eyebrows furrowed. “Is that why you’re infiltrating HYDRA bases?” she pushed. “Because you’re looking for the scientists that turned you into what you are now?”

“No,” you answered, sighing heavily. “I’m just looking for my mom.” You shook your head as Wanda’s form straightened at your confession. A scoff escaped your throat as a small smile once again crawled onto your lips, but the witch couldn’t seem to find any connection to your eyes before you turned away. “She’s the only family I have. They separated us when I was a kid. Took me away from her, along with a handful of other kids so they can run their tests to create their own unstoppable army. I figured since HYDRA keeps records on everything, they have to have something on her.” You looked back towards her. “Nat and Clint have been helping me raid bases to take their data. We go through the intel to see if there’s any information on my mom before they hand it over to SHIELD so they can keep track of HYDRA. It’s a deal that helps out the both of us.”

You watched her carefully, eyeing her expression as she soaked in your words. She wondered if you could hear the gears turning in her mind, trying to work out what you had just laid on her. Though it didn't answer all of her questions, it did give her an idea on how to answer a majority of the other ones. You rested your hands on your hips, chewing the inside of your cheek as your mind ran through a way to break the uneasy silence floating in between you and her.

This was her chance to interrogate you, to make that “open book” act a reality. She had so many questions forming on her tongue, she was unsure which one she wanted to start with. But the softness in your eyes as you looked at her, it caused the questions to catch in her throat. “I’ll help you,” she offered instead. “I already got this far, might as well keep going.” She extended her hand out to you, and your wide grin returned as you accepted the handshake with eagerness. Her stomach twisted at the feeling of you, she knew that’ll never get old.

“I’m gonna have to break up… whatever’s happening here. We’re being summoned back to the compound,” Natasha expressed, walking into the room with a wave of her phone. “We better go before they send the cavalry.”

There was a pull against Wanda’s heart when you pulled your hand away, stepped out from in between the two ladies. She forced herself to look away from you, watching Natasha cross her arms over her chest. She didn’t want to leave you. Even knowing the truth now, she was unsure when she was going to see you again. “Come with us.” The words fell from her mouth before she even had time to process them herself, all eyes turning to the witch as you mimicked Natasha by crossing your arms over your chest. A half smile tugged the corner of your lips as you raised your eyebrows at her.

“To the compound?” you questioned, and she nodded quickly, her tongue flicking out briefly to lick her lips. You laughed softly, readjusting your feet as you leaned more of your weight against the table.

“I’m sure the Avengers would love to have you on the team,” Wanda claimed. Natasha looked at you, watching you carefully as you breathed out slowly.

“I’m not interested in joining the government’s band of superpowered puppets.” Wanda should’ve seen that coming. You were definitely not the type to follow orders. And you seemed to not mind the whole “lone wolf” play you’re putting on. “I’m not a hero, Darling.”

“You’re not the bad guy, either, Y/N,” she countered, unintentionally snapping at you.

“We gotta go.” The redhead was quick to interrupt at the sound of Wanda’s harsh tone, taking a step forward to catch the witch’s attention. The Russian’s eyes were hard, her jaw rigid, and Wanda was starting to wonder just how much you meant to Natasha. She nodded towards the exit, letting her arms fall back to her sides as she started to walk away. “Come on.”

You met Wanda’s gaze as she stepped forward, but you quickly averted your gaze to the floor. No more words were exchanged between the two of you as she trailed after Natasha, and she felt a harsh twinge in her heart as the door closed behind her.

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It was difficult for her, she realized. The more time she spent with you, the harder it became to stay away. Her reluctance, in the beginning, seemed to be a foolish thing. There was no denying the affects you have on her, she knows that now. Yet she couldn’t stop the memories of her brother entering her mind, flooding her with guilt. Guilt in not being able to protect him. Guilt in not being there for his last breath. Guilt in finding solace in somebody else. A speedster, just like her brother.

Nearly a week has passed, and it would be useless of her to deny how much you’ve been on her mind since. You have no intentions in becoming a hero - a path she, too, had no intentions of landing on, yet here she was. Living in the Avengers compound. And she had found herself waiting for Natasha to appear at her door, to ask her on another mission. A mission that would lead her to you once more. Yet, she never came. Instead, she’d end up sitting on her bed, twirling the dead stem in between her fingers.

It was a night such as that, quiet in the compound. Wanda smiled softly at the stem, sitting against the headboard and watching the petalless head spin at the will of her gentle fingers. She hadn't realized she dozed off until she was startled awake, a gasp slipping past her lips as she sat up. She brought her hand up to eye level, relieved to see that the token was still intact. She sat up, eyebrows furrowed as she placed the stem back onto her nightstand.

She climbed out of the bed, her eyes darting around the room for a brief moment, her gut twisting and lurching, a feeling of a new presence lurking in her chest, but upon seeing the dimly lit room vacant of any other soul, she made her way to the dresser. Since she was awake, she might as well change into something more comfortable before going back to bed. Her fingers glided over the fabric of your jacket, a small smile plaguing her lips. The hint of you remained embedded between the stitching, tugging the collar over her nose to breathe in the sweet, pungent smell. She didn't want to take it off, not right now. So, her fingers danced down to the button of her jeans, but she didn't get much farther than that when a light, subtle clatter coming from within her room caused her to freeze. She strained her ears, holding her breath as she listened closely for the sound once more.

Maybe she was hearing things. The noise was soft, barely there. It was an easy thing for her mind to trick her ears with a noise that small. Yet, when it happened again, her head snapped towards the direction it came from.

The rectangular window resting above her bed, another sound as a flash of a small, gray blur hit the glass. Curiosity won her over as she walked back over to her bed, climbing on top and gripping the edge of the window to steadily get to her feet. She furrowed her eyebrows, sliding the window open and going on her toes to lean her head out of it. All the confusion wiped off her face, replaced by a smile when she saw you standing below. You sent her a single wave, and she laughed lightly when your other hand released a handful of pebbles.

"You do know the compound has a front door," she called down to you, resting her chin in her hand. "I'm pretty sure it's always unlocked."

You looked away from her - presumably where the front door was - before you picked your head up, meeting her gaze once more. "What's the fun in that?" you returned. "Do you mind backing up? It's a little cold out here." You made a show by rubbing your arms, your body shaking terribly, and she rolled her eyes at your dramatic act.

"Why didn't you wear a jacket?"

"I gave my one and only to some lady so she didn't freeze to death." You huffed, placing your hands on your hips as a playful smirk lit up your features. She sucked on her bottom lip to hide her growing smile. "I'm probably never going to get that back, now that I think about it."

"I'm sure you can work something out with her," she replied. You shook your arms out, bouncing on your toes, and she straightened her form, her hand falling away from her face. Your little routine was similar to the one you had done when facing off against the juggernaut, and her eyes widened when she made the connection. "There's no way you're going to make it up here, Y/N."

"Just step back, Darling."

"It's two stories," she claimed. "You're going to get-" She gasped when you vanished, pulling away just before a pair of hands appeared in front of her, gripping the edge of the window tightly. She could feel a fit of laughter bubbling in her chest, yet her mind was quick to force a barrier to prevent the escape as she peeked her head out once more, looking down to see your face much closer than it was five seconds ago. "Are we just hanging out now?"

You grinned, your feet scratching against the surface of the building in a desperate attempt to find traction as you dangled two stories off the ground. "The window looked bigger from down there," you admitted.

She pulled back once more to help you, her fingers brushing against your knuckles, but a mischievous smile grew on her face as she moved forward again. "I could help you," she practically sang, resting her chin against her palm once more, leaning to the side as she dragged an index finger over your knuckles gently, "all you gotta do is ask."

You breathed out a laugh, shaking your head as you locked eyes with her. Your jaw clenched with resolve, the tip of your tongue sticking out past your smirking lips, and she straightened her form with eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. Your nails turned whiter the harder you gripped on the ledge, and with a determined glint in your eye, your hands let go of the windowsill. The next few milliseconds felt slow to Wanda, her heart going still in her chest, her eyes widening, and her chin falling open. Terror froze her bones, locking her in place as she stared at the seemingly large space between your fingers and the ledge for what seemed like forever, but it was just mere seconds later that your hands launched forward, catching the other side of the windowsill. She felt her body relax as you laughed, a breath of relief passing her lips as you rested your chin on the surface.

"Help me." Your eyes sparkled at her, brighter than the stars shimmering above, and she was nearly tempted to give into you right then and there. But she only stared at you, your fingers curled around the windowsill in a vise-like grip. "Please help me, Darling." Your voice was soft when you said it, a quiet whisper only audible in the air between you and her. It caused her heart to lurch forward, her stomach to twist. She sent you a smile as she gripped your wrists, and you released your grip with a small breath of relief as you showed exactly just how much you trust the witch. Your touch, as always, sent a wave of fire through her veins burning away any stress that had loaded up on her shoulders.

She forced herself out of her daze with a subtle shake of her head. She pulled as hard as she could, and she couldn't stop a chuckle from slipping past the barrier she put up when her hands slipped, falling back onto the bed with a bounce. But when she looked up at you, half in the room, half out, the laughter that had been bubbling in her chest finally boiled over, and you grinned at the sound.

"I'm glad you're enjoying this," you expressed, your arms falling down to rest against the wall. “I am here to please, after all.” Your hands gripped the bars of her headrest, and a gasp escaped her when the bed lifted slightly at your strength when you pulled against it to heave the rest of your body into the room.

She watched with a wide smile as your head pressed against the pillows, kicking your legs the rest of the way through the window with a grunt. Your body swayed to the side, and her hand covered her mouth to suffocate the gasp when your foot knocked into the lamp resting on the nightstand, her laughter muffled against her palm as everything fell to the floor with a crash. You groaned as your legs remained on the now-empty nightstand, your torso buried amongst the pillows as you stared up at the ceiling.

"I'll use the front door next time," you announced breathlessly, looking at her over the pillows when she laughed once again. "Hey, that looks familiar." You pointed at the jacket, her chin resting against her chest as she remembered she was wearing it. A light pink painted her cheeks, picking her head up as the bed jostled underneath your maneuvering.

She opened her mouth, her brain working hard to come up with an excuse, but a soft knock against the door behind her had her mouth clamping shut. Her eyes widened as she, without thinking, shoved you off the bed. She bit her bottom lip to stop a smile from forming at the noise you made when you hit the ground mere moments before the door opened, repositioning herself on the bed to watch Vision step into the room.

"Are you okay?" he questioned, his tone low and gentle. She sent him a friendly smile. The android was always one to show her kindness, displaying a patience towards her nobody else seemed to grasp. She was thankful for the warm welcome he had given her when she had first arrived, and will always consider him a close friend at the end of the day. "I heard a crash." His eyes landed on the clutter of objects that had fallen to the floor, head tilting slightly as he took a step forward.

"I'm okay, Vis," she assured him, adding a small smile. "I just bumped into the nightstand."

Vision nodded, turning to walk out of the room, but pausing mid-turn. “I read your report from the last mission you did.” Wanda’s back straightened when she heard you scoff lightly from your spot behind the bed, and the urge to kick you was strong. “It seems that none of the other members of the team have encountered these sort of… powerful people before. They must be new to the area.”

“I speak from experience when I say they are definitely not,” you muttered. Wanda had to bite her cheek to muffle the incoming grin threatening her posture. She cleared her throat, an attempt to give you a warning to quiet down, as her eyes remained on Vision.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he admitted, and the muffled aww that came from you caused Wanda to subtly push a pillow off the bed in hopes it’d land on your face. “I’m keeping you awake. I’ll leave you to sleep.” He sent her a small, hopeful smile as he nodded, turning to leave the room. “Sweet dreams, Miss Maximoff.” The witch’s eyes followed his retreating figure until it disappeared behind the door before moving to lean over towards you.

“You really don’t know how to stay quiet for-”

Her voice caught in her throat at the lonely pillow sitting on the floor, eyebrows furrowed deeply with confusion.

"Is this what I think it is?" She gasped at the sound of your voice behind her, turning her head quickly to see you standing on the other side of the bed, the petalless flower held in between your fingers as a cheeky, playful smirk grew on your face. "You kept this?"

"No," she snapped, reaching over to pluck it from your hand. You lifted your arms up in a surrender fashion as you stepped away from the bed. She sighed softly as she looked at the stem for a moment before placing it back onto the nightstand, her eyes finding you as you started to wander around the room, smiling warmly as she watched you snoop.

“Who was that guy?” You stopped in front of her dresser, running your fingers along the surface before stopping to pick up a tiny, cardboard box filled with jewelry she’d most likely never wear. “Vis. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him before.”

You turned your head to look at her, an eyebrow raised as a playful smirk tugged a corner of your lips. “He came around the same time I did.” The box fell from your hand and landed on top of the dresser with a jingling smack. “How’d you even know which room was mine?”

“Magic, Miss Maximoff,” you replied, smirking at her. Her heart felt as if it was attempting a breakout by how fast it was beating, causing yet another blush to form on her cheeks. You turned away from her to spin the globe as if you were completely unaware of what you had just done to her. If this was how she reacts to you calling her by her last name, she can’t even begin to fathom what would happen when you finally figure out her first name.

She settled on assuming you had gotten the answer from Natasha. She could only imagine what would’ve transpired if you ended up knocking on Steve Roger’s window.

“This place doesn’t really seem lived in.” It was an instinct for her to look around. Though some of the stuff in the room held her own personal touch, she’d be the first to admit that it still held that “guest room” vibe.

“I’m not really focusing on room décor at the moment,” she said, watching you poke at a feather pinned to the shelf above the dresser. “Did you come all the way here to judge my room?”

You turned away from your prodding to look at her, leaning your hip against the dresser. “No,” you confessed, your lips pinched together yet, somehow, they still formed a smile. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.” She perked up at your words, your fingers picking at each other nervously as hopes rose in her chest. Are you going to join the Avengers? Become a hero? Work with her? She couldn’t slow down her heartbeat when the thought of you being a permanent part of her everyday life materialized in her brain. “I’m not going to join SHIELD’s little band of heroes” - her shoulders slouched - “but I’m willing to step out of the shadows and become… known.” You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as you stepped away from the dresser and towards her.

She wondered if you had issues with SHIELD by the way you said their name. Emphasized, like you were forcing yourself to say the word. Though if you were with HYDRA since you were a kid, it would be difficult to trust an organization you were raised to despise. Having lost trust in something you’ve never encountered, having lost trust in something you had grown up with. What did you have left to put your faith in? You standing here now, right in front of her, in a building ran by SHIELD. Was it her?

“Look, maybe coming here was a mistake.” She snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of your voice, blinking as she watched you make your way to the door. The doubt seemed to catch up to you, and she found herself becoming desperate to keep you here. “I’ll use the front door this time.”

“Do you trust me?” Your muscles locked up, freezing just before your hand touched the doorknob. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you turned your head to meet her gaze, straightening your form as she climbed off of the bed. She sauntered towards you, her footsteps were slow, seemingly calculated, gradually closing the distance between you and her. Her eyes stayed locked onto yours, bringing her bottom lip in between her teeth as your body automatically turned to face her. “Do you trust me, Y/N?” she asked once more, an eyebrow raising questioningly.

Your head bobbed up and down fast, quickly affirming her suspicion, but the lack of words appeared to not be enough for her.

“I’m gonna need you to say it.” She paused directly in front of you, her heart leaping in her throat, her stomach transforming into a vortex. Her hands subtly shook, nervous as she became close enough to catch the delicate scent of vanilla hidden beneath the ozone aroma you obtain from running in the wind.

“I trust you.” Your voice was soft, low, as if you had trouble getting it above a whisper. You breathed in a trembling breath, and Wanda couldn’t help but smirk at your nervous state. Were you experiencing the same feelings as she was? The desire to close the distance, the thirst to feel your bodies pressed together, the need to press her lips against yours. When your eyes flashed quickly to her lips, she was willing to bet the answer to her unspoken question was yes.

You both stepped forward at the same time, her fingers grazing your jaw as your lips collided with hers in a kiss that sparked a fire in her gut. It was undeniable, the heat that coursed through her veins as your arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer against you. And, as her lungs quickly began begging for air, she knew without a doubt that this is where she was meant to be. In your arms, protected, safe, comfortable. Fit together like a missing piece finally finishing the puzzle. Her lungs thanked her when she was forced away from your lips, breathing in a desperate drink of fresh air as her eyes seemed to be glued to you.

Her hands pulled away from your jaw, one returning to her side as she let the other one trail down your arm. You remained silent as she gripped onto your wrist and tugged you into the direction of her bed, a smile tugging the corner of her lips as you followed her compliantly. “I need you to do something for me,” she offered, reaching for your other wrist as she stopped at the edge of the bed. She pulled you closer to her, just enough to wrap your arms around her before finally releasing you.

You leaned your forehead against hers, her eyes fluttering close at the feeling of you as your noses brushed together just faintly, and you swallowed harshly before you said, “Anything for you, Darling.”

“Stay…” she breathed.

She opened her eyes to the warmth of the sun washing over her face, eyes squinting against the sudden brightness as she stretched in her spot underneath the covers. She turned her head, breathing out softly when she saw the neatly made bed vacant of you. She sat up, chewing the inside of her cheek as her eyes landed on the light sitting perfectly on the nightstand. Was everything that had happened merely just a dream? The heart-warming laughter? The fire-sparking kiss? The bone-chilling touches?

She begrudgingly kicked the blankets off of her, sighing when she saw that she was still wearing the same outfit as she had been last night. She huffed, settling on changing her pants and shirt, yet she shrugged your jacket back on as she made her way out of the bedroom, rubbing the grogginess out of her eyes with the back of her hand as her brain replayed last night over and over in her mind, desperately trying to convince herself that it wasn’t just a dream. That the way you had held her in your arms as she drifted off to sleep to the sound of your soft humming was real.

She stepped into the kitchen, sending a halfhearted wave to Natasha and Clint sitting at the table before stopping in front of the coffee pot. The steam coming from the cup told her that it was made fresh, and she released a soft sigh. At least this morning wasn’t completely full of disappointments.

“Think about it.” She couldn’t stop the smile forming at the sound of your voice behind her, her heart performing somersaults in her chest as she placed the coffee pot onto the counter. Excitement rushed through her, yet her eyes remained forward despite the craving desire to turn around and see you. “Right now, at this exact second, someone somewhere in the world… is eating a doughnut.” The smile on her face partly faded with confusion, a crease in between her brows forming when they furrowed together. Curiosity was what made her finally turn around, her breath catching in her throat to see just how close you truly are, yet a laugh managed to escape her as she crossed her arms over her chest, watching you shove as much of a doughnut as you can into your mouth. You met her gaze behind the doughty treat, her green eyes shining brightly with amusement as you bit the chunk off and slowly started to chew. And though your voice was extremely muffled by the fried dough you had shoveled into your mouth, she was almost certain she heard you say, “And that someone is me.”

“What’d you do to get Speedy to step out of the shadows?” Clint questioned, his voice cutting through the air, causing you to take a step away from the witch and lean against the counter behind you. She silently cursed the archer’s inquisitiveness. “Nat and I have been trying for months.”

“Let’s just say she has a certain… magical touch.” You looked towards the table, a smirk stretching your lips as you raised the doughnut to him. Clint's eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at his empty plate before looking back at you.

“Is that my doughnut?” You quickly shoved the rest of the doughnut into your mouth before anything else can be said, drawing out a soft chuckle from the women as Clint shook his head in mock disappointment, though even the archer had trouble muffling a grin.

Wanda continued to stare at you, seemingly lost in a trance as you teased Clint. She wanted to touch you, her burning hands itching to feel you, her lips aching to be against yours, but she fought against the insatiable desire. She didn’t think it appropriate to put on a show in front of people. She crossed her arms over her chest tightly, an attempt to keep her fingers at bay instead. “Did you meet the other Avengers yet?”

You nodded, quickly swallowing your mouthful of dough. “Everybody but Thor-”

“He’s off-world, Y/N,” Natasha claimed, laughing softly as she stood up. She grabbed her empty mug and made her way to the sink next to you.

“He’s always off-world,” you stated, a light pout forming on your lips.

“He does have a whole kingdom to attend to, sweetie,” the redhead expressed with a small grin, and you rolled your eyes. Wanda couldn’t stop the pang of jealousy ripping through her as she watched Natasha place a comforting hand on your shoulder, but your desire to meet the long-haired man shouldn't have been a surprise. The witch remembers the Thor comics you had back at your apartment, and she smiled softly as she realized your admiration for the God of Thunder.

“Oh!” You clapped your hands suddenly, snapping Wanda out of her daze. “I haven’t met-”

“Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton.” Everybody turned towards the entrance of the kitchen to watch Vision float in, but Wanda’s attention was pulled away from the android when she felt you step next to her, the widest of smiles plastered on your face. “Miss Maximoff…” His greetings trailed off with confusion when his eyes landed on you, an unfamiliar presence to the android.

“Whoa,” you breathed. Wanda felt her face soften at the awe written across your features, a small smile tugging her lips. But your closeness to her didn’t last long before you were gone, appearing directly in front of Vision, causing him to pause his movements with furrowed eyebrows. “You’re an android, dude.”

“My apologies,” Vision expressed, head tilting to the side with curiosity, “but who are you? You’re not in any of the databases.”

“Databases?” Your face contorted to confusion for a brief moment before you playfully smacked him in the shoulder. “No way! You have a whole computer in your head?” You paused, taking a step back as you added, “Wait, your voice sounds familiar.” You turned your head to look at Wanda, pointing at Vision. “Is he-”

“Vis,” Wanda interrupted quickly, “this is Y/N.”

“You never told me he was a robot!” She laughed softly at your excitement.

“I’m not a robot,” Vision confirmed. “I’m a synthezoid.” His brow furrowed once again as you moved to poke his cheek, though his body slowly leaning away from your finger indicated that he wasn't fairly interested in being touched. That didn't seem to stop you. Wanda’s eyes were glued to you as she felt her heart swell.

She didn’t even look away from you when Natasha rubbed against her arm when the Russian stepped next to her, crossing her arms over her chest as she grinned. “I see that look on your face.” The witch finally broke free from her hypnotic state to look at the redhead, eyebrows furrowed deeply as Natasha continued to keep her gaze forward, watching the interaction between you and Vision.

“What look?” Wanda questioned.

She looked at the witch, her head tilting in a way that tells the Sokovian to quit playing dumb. “Like she’s the only one that matters.”

“Nat!” Your voice cut through their conversation, both women turned to you. You pointed at Vision, grinning widely, as you said, “He’s coming on the mission with us.”

“Mission?” Wanda looked to Natasha, puzzled. “What mission?” But the only thing the former assassin did was send her a sly wink before walking away.

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“I have to put this thing in my ear?” Since Wanda failed to suppress her grin (again), she was forced to look down in an attempt to hide it. She could hear your voice in the earpiece nestled against her eardrum, walking slowly towards the towering mansion before her, with Vision right by her side. “It’s so small, Nat. What if it gets stuck in there?”

“Has she not worn communication devices on missions before?” Vision’s soft-spoken question only added another to her arsenal. It wasn’t something she had ever thought about until now. How did you manage to communicate with Natasha and Clint during your HYDRA raids? She was going to have to find time to slip one of her many questions in, cross them off the ever-growing list. She decided to simply shrug at the android's inquiry.

"Why would the suit be made of leather, Y/N?" Wanda breathed out loudly through her nose, a semi-failed attempt to smother her laughter. She had wished she could hear the rest of your bickering, but Vision cut in, making it near impossible to hear what you had said in response to Natasha.

"How did you come to know Y/N?" She glanced at him, sighing softly as the memory came to mind as if it had happened just yesterday. The first time she laid eyes on you - that cocky grin, the overconfident attitude, the know-it-all state of mind - she had despised you. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with you for how much you had reminded her of her brother. Yet, the more time she spent with you, the more she came to fall for your charm. She was quick to judge you, yet you were quicker to show her just how truly wrong she was.

"We met on a mission," she answered, stopping at the bottom of the grand staircase leading into the fancy manor. She turned to face him - the tux he had decided to wear suited him fairly well, yet she was sure the black bow perfectly knotted at his neck was supposed to match with her backless, dark green dress. "She saved my life." In more ways than you'll ever know.

"I find it odd how I can't find her in my database," he uttered, seemingly talking to himself out loud as his eyes drifted away from Wanda for a fleeting moment before he snapped back onto her. "Have I told you you look wonderful tonight, Miss Maximoff?" He held his elbow out towards her, and she smiled softly as she looped her arm through his before he led her up the stairs.

A frown plagued her lips briefly when she realized just how quiet the comms had become in her ear, but the emptiness in her gut didn't last long when her eyes instantly found you standing by Natasha's side at the buffet table upon walking into the ballroom. It was like you sensed her, too, as you picked your head up. She could tell your mouth was full of food by the way your cheeks puffed out, and she laughed lightly as you sent her a wave, but you quickly pulled your arm down when the Russian sent you a subtle elbow into your stomach. She watched from the other side of the room as you offered Natasha what looked like a finger sandwich. She has been caught in yet another trance, captivated by your victorious grin when the redhead accepted the food from you, enthralled by the laughter that she could hear above all other noises present in the room when you mockingly presented Clint a doughnut from the table.

“I ordered you a drink.” Wanda turned to look at Vision, leaning his elbows against the bar with an untouched drink sitting in front of him. She doesn’t remember making her way to the bar, though it could’ve been the android guiding her away from the vacant dance floor. Surely if he hadn’t, she would’ve made a scene by crossing no man’s land to get to you. He slid the drink towards her, and she pursed her lips together tightly before forcing herself to turn her back on you. “I don’t see why we can’t enjoy ourselves during a mission.” He smiled warmly at her as she wrapped a hand around the cool glass.

He unintentionally reminded her exactly why they were even attending this ball in the first place. The owner of the mansion, a man in ties with HYDRA, has been reported to be in possession of some sensitive information regarding a certain project that held a few participants; some willing, others… not so much. If there was any information on your mother, it'd be here.

"Would you care to dance, Miss Maximoff?" She looked at Vision, blinking out of her daze as she watched him offer her his elbow. She hadn't realized that the event had started until he asked, and she was already looping her arm through his once again, letting him guide her to the semi-occupied dance floor.

The two of them settled into a proper position; hands interlocked, his other hand resting on her shoulder blade as she felt the fabric of his tux underneath her fingers when she, too, placed her hand against his shoulder. They swayed in sync with the music, following in step with the other dancers. Though it seems that not everybody wanted to begin dancing just yet, the very few couples that made it onto the floor were more than eager to get the ball rolling.

Literally.

It wasn't much longer that your voice crackled to life in her ear. "Y'know, if you would just let me use my powers-"

“Do not use your powers, Y/N,” Natasha quickly interrupted. “And stop pressing your finger against your ear. You look ridiculous.” Vision swayed to the left at just the right time, giving Wanda the perfect opportunity to watch as you pull your hand away from your head. She smiled as you leaned against the bar, a glass of what seemed to be whiskey just barely hanging in between two delicate fingers, though you didn’t seem to be interested in drinking the amber liquid at all. “Does anybody have eyes on Malick yet?”

“Negative, Ghost Rider,” you proclaimed.

“Maybe you’d do a better job at locating him if you weren’t attached to that bar,” Clint teased; she could hear the smirk in his tone.

“Hey, Alfred, there’s some people at table three waiting for more of those finger sandwiches,” you countered, and her eyes found Clint to watch him stare daggers at you across the room, a silver tray of tiny food in his palm, before he ducked into the crowd, disappearing within seconds.

Wanda looked back towards you, her heartbeat speeding up the moment her eyes connected with yours, and the playful smirk that tugged a corner of your lips caused her stomach to twist, but it all ended too soon when Vision swayed back to the right. Her line of sight was ultimately blocked by the android. “Y/N’s an interesting character,” Vision commented. “I have yet to see her in action, but her beating heart lives to tell the tale of her adventures. Perhaps she’d fit in well with the other team members.”

The witch focused on Vision's face, smiling softly at him. “Y/N isn’t interested in becoming an Avenger,” she assured the android. “She doesn’t see herself being a hero.”

Vision pursed his lips, eyes drifting away from her as he took a moment to think. “You said she saved your life.” He looked back at her in time to see her subtly nod. “Then I believe she’s a hero already.”

Wanda stared at the android’s smiling face, her mind at a loss for words to defend your decision, as Vision stepped away when the song came to a slow end. People that hadn’t been interested in dancing with their loved ones during the first round finally stepped onto the dance floor just as the second song kicked on, and it wasn’t that much longer that the area became crowded, leaving Wanda no chance in hell in finding where you were.

She sent a look towards the bar, yet the untouched glass of whiskey only remained where you had been standing before her view of it became obscured by the gathering crowd. She sighed in defeat, stepping around swaying couples in an attempt to get off of the floor, but a hand catching her wrist forced her to stop. She didn’t get a chance to look over her shoulder before whoever grabbed hold of her pulled, the force of the tug causing her to spin, and her breath caught in her throat when your arms caught her before she fell. Your face was mere inches away from hers, and though your usual vanilla scent had been masked by whatever cologne Natasha had sprayed on you, she could still catch a hint of that ozone aroma that seems to always radiate off of you.

“I didn’t think of you as much of a dancer, Y/N,” she commented, wrapping her arms around your neck as your hands delicately gripped her waist. You laughed lightly, and she was close enough to you to have your minty breath wash over her face.

“I’m not,” you admitted, “but I’m a fast learner.”

“You seem to be fast at everything.”

You grinned, tilting your head slightly. “I’m nothing if not fast.” But then you leaned forward, your lips brushing against her ear as your hands slid up her body, your fingers gliding over her exposed back. A ripple of chills erupted throughout her spine at your touch as you whispered, “But there are a few things I’m willing to slow down for.” She was grateful when the gasp that built up in her chest got caught in her throat as you pulled back to look her in the eye.

“Malick has entered the area.” Clint’s voice cut through Wanda like a hot knife, the archer forcefully dragging her out of the hypnotic daze you had put her under. The witch tried to peer over your shoulder, scouring the crowd to get eyes on the man, but you tugged her closer to you, her shining emerald irises melting into you as a smirk grew on your lips.

“Eyes on me, Darling.” Have you forgotten about the mission? Was Clint's voice not a reminder of why you were here? She couldn't really bring it upon herself to question it, your hands on the small of her back had her mind reeling with feelings she had a hard time controlling. Chills erupted through her as if she had stepped foot into an ice bath, yet her face was hot to the touch as she was sure a bright, obvious red stained her cheeks. With her eyes lost in yours, the outside world didn't seem to matter much to her. “You look absolutely stunning this evening.”

Her eyes tore away from yours to glance at the suit you were sporting, and though the dark green tie wrapped around your neck didn't match Natasha's silky black dress, it did make your smile seem impossibly brighter. The two of you seemed to match better than your “dates.”

“And you look very dashing,” she returned, her eyes snapping back onto yours like a magnet.

She felt as if she were in a bubble with you that not even the sound of the music penetrated, protected from the world around her as she continued to spin in your arms. She never wanted this moment to end, the way you looked into her eyes as if you were finally breathing for the first time, the way your fingers made her skin so hot that it could start a fire, yet so chilling that it caused her teeth to shiver.

“Natasha tried squeezing a dress on me, but I'm not particularly a big fan of the breeze down there when I run.” She laughed lightly, and you smiled at her as she followed your steps, twirling around the other couples as her focus was locked onto you.

“Should we talk about last night?”

“The part where I expertly climbed through your window or the part where we spooned half-moon style until you dozed off?”

“How about the part in between all of that?” she suggest. You stopped moving suddenly, her body pressing against yours as your noses gently brushed together, and a tight knot formed in her gut, her breath hitching in her throat. Just a tilt of her chin and she’d be able to relive what had happened last night - the kiss that never seemed to leave her lips.

You grinned at her, doing the very thing she had thought about doing as you tilted your chin, yet your mouth only grazed hers in a ghost of a kiss. Her eyelids fluttered closed. “Would you like to recreate the moment?” you whispered, your lips moving against hers, and the knot in her stomach tightened with anticipation as the desire to close the distance in between your mouths burned in her chest.

“Y/N…” she breathed, her voice pleading, and her eyes opened to look into yours. There was a fleeting though in the back of her mind, something trying to break free from the hypnosis she had been caught in, trying to clear the fog your closeness had brought into her brain. It was quiet. No music, no other sounds of conversations. Not even the sound of the team spewing mission nonsense in her ear. Whatever it was scratching at her thoughts seemed to win as she tore her eyes away from you, a gasp escaping her throat as she saw everybody around her just… standing there. As if somebody had pushed pause on a remote. “What’s happening?”

You looked around, an indentation forming in between your eyebrows as you, too, saw what she sees. She watched you as you closed yours eyes, released a breath, and took a step away from you. She felt the bubble that had formed around the two of you break, the dancers continuing on with their twirling, the music playing through the air, and the team’s voices coming through the comms tucked away in her ear as if nothing had happened. You looked at her, seemingly frozen in the spot a few feet away from her, breathing out a sigh that caused your shoulders to fall, and she had just taken a step towards you when you finally decided to move. She called out for you, but you continued pushing your way through the dancers, and she didn’t hesitate to follow off of the dance floor.

She watched you reach into your ear, pulling out the earpiece and dropping it to the ground just as she managed to catch your wrist, pulling you to a stop. You turned to look at her, a melancholic smile drawn on your face as she felt you almost instantly relax the moment she touched you. “What-”

“Let’s have some fun.” Using her grip on your wrist, you were the one to start pulling her away from the crowd, guiding her through a random door to put some distance between you and the ballroom. She didn’t have the heart to let go of her hold on you, the sensation she gets from touching you has been something she craved ever since that first time.

The two of you ducked down a hallway, the smile growing on Wanda's face as adrenaline pumped through her blood. There was a high chance of them getting caught now that they snuck away from the event, their covers blown almost instantly if they were spotted for even a split-second, yet that was what made this exciting. And, with you right by her side, it couldn't have been better.

"We weren't getting much done in one room," you proclaimed as your arm slipped from her grasp. "Besides, I already forgot what Malice looks like." She didn't even bother correcting you on the name, she knew it was something you weren't interested in. What's a name to you when you were inches away from finally getting the information you wanted? It was close enough anyway.

"What was that thing you did in the ballroom?" Your walking gradually stopped as you slowly turned to look at her. Two white, swinging doors rested to your left and, peeking through the slim windows, Wanda could see the kitchen on the other side.

"I don't know," you confessed.

Her mouth opened, but she stopped herself from speaking when a pair of white, double doors swung open, nearly smacking you as a waiter balancing two silver trays stepped into the hall. She didn't pay either of you any mind as she scurried past, hurrying to bring the food to the ballroom.

Both of your eyes followed the scrambling waiter for a moment before she turned back to you. "Is that what you see all the time?"

You looked at her. "Not all the time." You crossed your arms over your chest in a protective manner. You paused for a moment, your eyes melting into hers as if you were searching for something, and she was unsure whether or not you found it. The doors swung open once more, another waiter dashing in between them with a tray. You sighed, shaking your head slightly as your arms fell to your side, and you turned to continue walking just when the door flew open. Her hand covered her mouth to muffle a gasp when a waiter stepped out in front of you, the tray of drinks held in his palm hitting your shoulder and the glasses fell onto you. The clear liquid soaked into your white button-up and black suit jacket as the tray clattered to the ground loudly.

The waiter mumbled an apology as he fell to his knees to clean up the mess, but you seemed to be frozen in place. Wanda gripped your elbow and tugged you further down the hall, away from the kitchen. "Y/N-"

"I don't know how I did it," you quickly interrupted, a soft yet small smile tugging the corner of your lips as your gaze fell to the floor. "I didn't even know I could-"

"Hey…" Her voice, as soft as silk, trailed off as she stepped towards you. She brought her hands up to cup your face, gently guiding your head up to meet your eyes as she sent you a warm smile. "There's some aspects to my powers I'm still learning. Not understanding a power you've had for less than a year is nothing to be ashamed of."

You leaned into her touch and she yearned to know what you were thinking as you stared into her eyes. She knew the end results, yet she still attempted to catch a glimpse of your thoughts. She breathed out softly when she saw what she expected - blurred splotches of random colors, shifting way too fast for her to latch onto even a single comprehensible thought.

Suddenly, you collapsed into her. The scent of alcohol burned her nose when she caught you on instinct, her arms hooking under yours as your head rested against her stomach, a gasp escaping her throat, yet she had just opened her mouth when a deep voice cut through the air.

"Hey!" Wanda's head snapped towards the source, her eyes widening as she felt you slowly straightened your form, though a hand tightly gripping onto her elbow prevented one of her arms from falling back to her side. She held onto you by your waist as you leaned into her, a wide smile stretching your fingers as your arm flew up into the air, causing her to wobble as you sent the two suited men an enthusiastic wave. They closed the distance, arms crossed over their chest as they glared at you and Wanda. "What are you two doing back here?"

"Hello, sirs," you greeted, your words slurred together, slipping out of Wanda's arm to fall into one of the men. He, too, caught you out of instinct, yet he seemed to have regretted it by the face he made at the smell of the wet alcohol stain on your shirt. "Do you even understand how beautiful this lady right here is?" You lazily picked up an arm, a finger pointing right at Wanda. She could feel her face flushing, sucking on her lips to fight against the smile threatening her posture.

"Y/N," Wanda urgently whispered, reaching for you, but you easily dodged her. She sent the men an apologetic look.

"Thee best girlfriend I ever had," you announced. Wanda reached for you again, gripping the hem of your jacket and tugging you back to her. "My beautiful, beautiful Darling." You placed your palm gently against her cheek as her arm wrapped around your waist, letting you use her as a crutch. She was doing everything in her power not to let the smile win. The heat building in her cheeks was bad enough.

She returned her look to the gentlemen, deciding to send them a rueful smile. At least this way the battle between her posture and her feelings would meet a stalemate. "I'm sorry. I've been trying to keep her on a tight leash, but she's a slippery one."

"Well, neither of you should be here," the first man expressed, his voice a bit more softer than it was in the beginning. "Let's get you ladies back to the party. And you should make sure she's cut off." The men took a step forward as Wanda nodded, but you placed yourself in front of her, swaying ever so slightly so perfectly well that even she thought you were going to fall.

"Come on," the second man declared, raising his arm to grab onto your elbow, but the movement was so fast for Wanda to process that the man just crumpled to the ground in milliseconds. It even took the other one a moment to realize what had happened, though he didn't have much time to reach for his gun before he, too, fell to the floor.

You turned to her with a wide grin, arms spread out wide as if asking her if she was impressed. And, to be honest, she actually was a little impressed. "I saw that in a movie." Your arms fell back to your sides as you looked down at one of the unconscious men. "The drunk bit," you clarified.

She furrowed her eyebrows, looking over her shoulder towards the kitchen doors for a brief moment before turning back to you. She took a step closer to you, raising an eyebrow with curiosity. "Is that why you got a waiter to spill alcohol on you?" she questioned. "How'd you even know when they were coming out?"

You scoffed, grinning at her. "Why do you think I attached myself to the bar?" you returned. "The waiters stick to a pattern. Two trays of food go out first, followed by the tiny little drink samples." You shrugged, nodding your head towards the rest of the hall before turning to step over the men. She watched as you walked away, a smile tugging her lips as she shook her head softly. From past experiences with you on missions, she had just assumed you were the punch first, ask later kind of person. But she sees now just how strategic you could be. She quickly followed you.

“I’m sure there would’ve been a quicker way we could’ve gotten past them without drawing it out like that.”

“Nat doesn’t want me using my powers,” you said. “Besides, I kinda always wanted to try that little act. And it was more fun.” Though you did use your powers, just slightly, she doesn’t deem it necessary to point that out. However, there was a little something she did want to bring up, and the thought of it made the butterflies in her stomach throw a fit.

“Girlfriend, huh?” She grinned at you when you glanced at her, and you laughed softly as you turned a corner at the end of the hall.

You weren’t looking at her, but she could see the hints of a smirk imprinted on your face as you added, “I’m sure you loved being called my girlfriend.” You weren’t wrong. The idea of being called your girlfriend made her low-key giddy, but she’d never admit that to you. Not in a million years.

“You never did tell me how you met Natasha and Clint,” she claimed, an attempt to calm the butterflies in her gut by changing the subject.

You hummed thoughtfully, your lips pursed together as if you had to think about the moment of meeting the redhead and the archer. “It was a dark and stormy night-”

“Y/N.” She laughed softly as your name rolled off her tongue, shaking her head as she playfully shoved you.

A grin stretched your lips as you looked at her. “Let’s see…” You trailed off, breathing out heavily. “Well, I had just escaped HYDRA’s death grip and I was out on my own for the first time. I had always thought about finding my mom whenever I got out of that place, so it quickly became my priority.” You met her gaze as the two of you continued walking down the hall. “I knew of one of their small bases in the suburbs of New York, so I figured I’d start there first. Turns out, SHIELD had information of it, too, and decided to send Red and Robin Hood. Long story short, I saved Nat’s life even though she’ll deny it.” You smiled at her as you turned your gaze on the area before you.

“What was your mom like?” She could see the falter of your smile, though this one lasted a bit longer than it normally does. She figured you didn’t fully know the answer to that, though your mind could have created an image of her through the very few memories you have.

“She used to sing me this song at bedtime. It had always helped me fall asleep.” Your smile appeared reminiscent, the ghostly echoes of your mother hidden in plain sight at the front of your mind. “It was her own little rendition of a Guns N’ Roses song.” She grinned warmly at you as you hummed a sound that seemed similar to Sweet Child O’ Mine, yet slower and softer. And then you laughed softly, shaking your head as you said, “She was much better at it. She said the words and everything. I just…” You trailed off, biting your bottom lip as your brain worked overtime, and Wanda only wanted to know what it was you were thinking about.

“She seems like a great mom,” Wanda expressed, her voice soft and gentle.

Your chest puffed out, your eyes twinkling when you looked at her, nodding. “She was,” you concurred. “One of the best. She always took care of me.” And then you sighed, your shoulders slouching as you cleared your throat. “One time, I fell and scraped my knee. I was screaming my head off, but… she brought me in her arms and rocked me until I settled down.” She slowed to a stop when you did, your eyes glued to a spot on the floor as you chewed the inside of your cheek, a thin, comfortable layer of silence flowing through the hall before you turned to face her. “And then she brought my face into her hands and told me, ‘What hurts today, hurts less tomorrow.’” She was almost certain she could see a gloss covering your eyes, tears threatening your care-free structure, but you looked down to the ground between your feet before she could fully confirm it. “That was the last thing she said to me before I was taken.”

She wanted to reach for you. To bring you into her arms and hold you. She refrained. You seemed to be internally struggling to keep your posture, and hugging you would only shatter that resistance.

"She was wrong." Her eyes refocused onto yours when you picked your head up. There was a hardness to them she hadn't seen before, shutting off the emotions threatening to put you in a vulnerable state you weren't ready to reveal. "What hurts today only hurts more tomorrow."

"Y/N-"

"Let's go through here." You nodded your head towards the closest door near you, breathing in deeply as you turned away from her. She watched as you reached the door, twisting the knob and disappearing into the room. "Do you think Malice has a dungeon?" you questioned when she joined you, her eyes scanning the empty bedroom briefly before they found you rummaging through the nightstand. She couldn't help but smile softly, yet the worry she felt towards you was thick in her mind as she moved to another side of the room, eyeing the framed picture of a family resting on a desk in the corner. "A man who has ties with HYDRA and a house like this is just bound to have a dungeon. It's practically textbook."

"What would be in this dungeon?" She figured she'd play along, get your mind off the past and onto the present. She glanced at you when you didn't answer right away as she opened a drawer of the desk, shaking her head when she caught you snooping through the bookshelf.

"Probably evil things," you replied, her eyes casting down to the contents of the drawer she had pulled open. "Experiment tables. Science equipment. Prison cells of indisposable victims forced to succumb to these so-called tests." She pushed past all the usual things you'd find in a desk - pens and pads of papers, scissors and paper clips, items that held no value to the mission.

She furrowed her eyebrows, stepping back to eye the drawer. It seemed bigger than it actually was, which only meant that there was a false bottom. As she pried her fingers underneath the panel, you spoke again.

"Or maybe he uses it for personal pleasure," you suggested, yet she was barely processing your words as she lifted the board out of the drawer and peered to the bottom. "You know how self-indulgent these kinds of people can be." She picked up the handful of files, but before she could open the topmost folder, something fell out of the pile and landed in the drawer with a deep thud. “Hedonist.” She reached into the compartment, her fingers wrapping around a small object. With furrowed eyebrows, she began flipping through one of the files. “I asked Vis for the word of the day.”

“Y/N.”

"Actually, if you think about it, performing experiments on unwilling participants is probably his guilty pleasure." You shrugged loosely, and though she wanted to look over at you, to see you, to know exactly what was written in your eyes as you spoke, she was too enthralled by the files in her hands to turn away. "Y'know, evil scientist and all that jazz."

"Y/N-"

"He probably has a whole second dungeon for all his fantasies. Gross." She heard a soft click, followed by the sound of gears turning. When she looked at you, the bookshelf you had been standing in front of had disappeared into the wall, revealing a staircase leading down into darkness. You met her gaze, a smile crawling on your face, as you said in a spooky tone, "Dungeon." You laughed excitedly, nodding your heads towards the entrance. Before she could stop you, you stepped through the hidden doorway. Her eyes returned to the small object she picked up, a flash drive, your name written in neat, black ink on a piece of tape covering the top of it. And the files, enough to put Malick away for a long time.

Her finger hovered over her ear, her mind racing as she thought about bringing the team into this. Your lack of comms was deemed useful as she pressed against the earpiece, turning on the device with a single tap, and her mind was flooded with the voices of the others.

"Are you coming?" Your voice came from the darkness, a slight echo in your words. "I need your glow stick hands! Come on, Darling." Her heart lurched uneasily in her chest as she closed the document and placed the stack back into the drawer, slipping the flash drive into her bra before moving to join you.

"How'd you even know this was here?" It couldn't have been a coincidence that the first room the two of you enter gave you access to an actual secret dungeon.

"I told you, Darling," you expressed. "It's all textbook. Evil scientist plus big mansion equals secret dungeon." You glanced at her as the two of you stepped off the final stair, the darkness illuminated in a red glow from Wanda's fingers, and a smile could be seen in the dim light. “Let’s just hope we don’t find what makes Malice… happy.” She raised an eyebrow at you, though the hint of a smirk tugging her lips didn’t go unnoticed by you. "I memorized the blueprints of the house, gave the building a quick run through with my amazing speed, and noticed the place didn't match the design." You shrugged nonchalantly as you continued forward, your body vaguely seen the farther you marched away.

“So, you did use your powers?” It was difficult to see you now that you were outside the radius of the glow, but she could just make out your frozen figure as you slowly turned around to look at her.

“Don’t tell Nat.” She laughed softly as she walked towards you, her glow-free hand resting on your shoulder in an attempt to pat it, but the instant spark she felt jolted through her among feeling you only caused her touch to linger. You met her gaze, sensing your muscles relaxing underneath her palm.

“Consider it between just the two of us,” she assured in a low voice, her stomach churning excitedly when your tongue slowly flickered out to run across your lips. The voices in her ear pulled her out of the hypnotic state your eyes drew her into, turning her head away from you as her hand fell from your shoulder. That was her fault, she supposed, forgetting to turn off the comms the second time around. Still, she continued forward with your trailing behind her for once. “So, when you were a kid-”

“Some may argue I still am,” you interrupted and she glanced back at you to confirm what she had thought - the biggest, cheekiest smile making your face glow somehow brighter than her fingers. She grinned softly, shaking her head as she returned her gaze forward.

“It’s been, what? Twenty-something years? But you had your powers for just a few months.”

A scoff came from the bottom of your throat and she didn’t really need to look at you to know you were shaking your head. “Not all experiments were successful, Darling.” The statement caused chills to dance up her spine, her jaw clenching tightly at the rage building in her chest. It made her sick to think about how willing she had been when HYDRA first approached her and her brother, not knowing there was a whole other side of the corporation they were keeping hush-hush.

But it was you running (at human speed, to her surprise) ahead of her when the light at the end of the dark hallway came to view not too long later, laughter bouncing off the walls, that had sedated the anger growing in her veins. Going through years of torture didn’t seem to negate your high spirits. The pain you had endured at the hands of scientists seemed to only make you stronger, showing how hard it is to truly knock you down.

Her eyes seemed to struggle at the sudden bright light flooding through the hall when you touched the door, pushing it open and leading her through the entrance into a lab full of tools she couldn’t even begin to understand. “See? Experiment tables. Science equipment. Now all we’re missing is the prison cells and I’d be 100% right.”

She watched as you made your way to a table, surgery tools lined up perfectly on the surface. A flash of discomfort crossed your features, though she couldn’t see your whole face to be completely sure. “Are you okay, Y/N?” You blinked, and she saw your shoulders relax at the sound of her voice before you turned your head to look at her. A melancholic smile tugged your lips once again, and she sighed softly as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe we shouldn’t be here,” she suggested.

“If this Malice guy has anything on my mom, it’d be here,” you declared, moving away from the table.

“You can memorize blueprints, but you can’t remember his name?” You stopped to look at her, eyebrows furrowed deeply with confusion.

“The guy’s name isn’t Malice?” You hummed, shrugging carelessly as you made a beeline for a filing cabinet. She walked further into the lab as you combed through the drawers of the cabinet, sifting through folder after folder.

She didn’t even know where to begin searching, but a quick scan of the counters, she spotted a laptop resting on top of a pile of papers. She made her way to it, opening it, and she had half a mind to pull out the flash drive out of her pocket and plug it in, though your voice cutting through the air pulled that thought away from her.

“There’s nothing in the cabinet,” you claimed. “Y’know, maybe Malice isn’t even the scientist. He’s probably just the guy funding it all.” You were by her side before she even blinked, her heart leaping in her chest at your sudden appearance. “What’d you find?”

“It’s locked.” She showed you the screen requesting a password, watched as you chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment as you stared at the laptop. “They’re not just going to leave a piece of paper lying around, either. This isn’t a movie.”

“No,” you agreed, “but maybe we can collect enough clues to figure the password out.” She furrowed her eyebrows as you stepped backward, meeting her gaze as you grinned at her. “Passwords are almost always sentimental to the owner. Sentimentality is all over the place if you look closely enough.”

She didn’t have a chance to say something before a rush of air nearly knocked her over , suddenly being left alone in the creepy lab, and she huffed in annoyance as she turned back to the laptop. She didn’t know where you had gone, or how long you’d be, but the inclination to plug the USB into the portable computer had her reaching towards her neck.

The password was fairly easy to guess - simply enough, they were one of those people who put the answer within the hint, which is nearly just as bad as those who put it on a sticky note and hang it near the computer. Even so, she got into the system without any issues and, with you being nowhere near her, she pulled the flash drive out of her bra and plugged it in.

Her heart fell at the picture attached to the digital file the USB pulled up. A little kid that she could only assume was you. A look of fear written on your face, eyes wide and lips tugged into a frown. She scrolled through it, a sad, soft sigh coming from her nose as she read through the file. Taken at the age of six, you had been poked and prodded for twenty years. A list of surgeries done on you in an attempt to grant you powers, protocols to ensure you stay on their side. All failed. Because not all experiments were successful. Pictures tracking your growth - kid, teenager, adult - yet each one showed just how badly they had treated you. She wondered how close to death they brought you before they finally managed to get their hands on-

The door opening behind her caused her to jump, pulling the USB out of the computer and tucking it back into the safety of her bra before she spun around, eyes wide and hands instantly in the air as soldier after soldier filed into the room. An older woman in a lab coat strolled in the midst of them, the armed fighters parting like the red sea.

She paused a few feet away from Wanda, her lips pursed together as she looked the witch up and down, surveying her. “You’re not the one I’m looking for,” she finally claimed, crossing her arms over her chest, an eyebrow raised as her eyes roamed around the room, and her shoulders fell slightly when she failed to find whatever it was she was seeking. She met Wanda’s gaze once more, gesturing to the Sokovian to drop her hands. “There’s no need for that, honey. We’re not going to shoot you.” Yet, despite her words, the soldiers did not lower their weapons.

“Who are you?” Wanda asked, her voice low and dangerous.

“Dr. Wanker!” You appeared in the middle of the room, a gust of wind pushing against Wanda's face, all the weapons were now focused onto you, though you didn’t seem too concerned about that. You crossed your arms over your chest, grinning widely at the scientist. "And here I thought I was never going to see you again. Did you know that you made top three of my list?"

She turned her attention back to Wanda, her eyes holding a hint of irritation as she moved her hands to grip her hips. “My name is Dr. Robin Banker,” she claimed, ignoring you. Wanda met your gaze, your eyes sparkling despite the current situation, and the smile on your face put her at ease. She wasn't worried, there was no need to be. Not if you were here.

"My hate list," you stated, speaking to Wanda now. "She's number two." You held up two fingers, laughing lightly as you took a step forward, yet the click of the guns aimed right at you caused Wanda to tense. "Oh, please, Dr. Wanker, you know these guns aren't going to stop me." She rolled her eyes, seemingly annoyed with your cocky confidence. Or she was irritated by the play you're making on her name. "Besides…" you smirked, your voice lowering as you continued, "I'm not even the one you should be worried about."

"You don't think we already know of Miss Maximoff's talents?" Robin laughed softly, shaking her head. "Sweetheart, she's more like you than you think." She strolled her way to Wanda, moving to run her fingers down the witch's face as if they were old friends, but she pulled away just before the doctor could touch her. She ignored it as she added, "She joined HYDRA. She got her powers from us, just like you."

Wanda looked at you, meeting your eyes, silently pleading. For what? Forgiveness? Understanding? She couldn't be sure.

"And, yet, here she is. Going against the bad guys to fight with the good guys. She's everything you hate, just like me." You smirked, shrugging loosely as humor filled your sparkling eyes. How could you be so nonchalant with a squadron of guns pointed directly at you?

Wanda couldn't stop Pietro from entering her mind, her muscles locked in place with fear. Were you to meet the same demise?

"Oh, sweetie." The doctor's voice was condescending, moving behind Wanda to stand slightly behind her, her hands lingering on the witch's shoulders. "She volunteered."

Your smile has yet to falter. You didn't seem to take Robin's words to heart; you see that Wanda had deviated just as you had, volunteered or not. It didn't affect your opinions on the witch. No, it seemed to only make you more relaxed than you were five seconds ago. Perhaps finally finding something out about the Sokovian's past made you feel better. She'd be the first to admit she hasn't exactly been sharing much with you. Hell, you still have no idea what her name is.

"HYDRA just can't seem to keep their subjects in check, huh?" You took another step, Wanda's eyes flashing to the cluster of soldiers in time to see their trigger fingers tense. Her heart was in her throat at this point, giving her lungs a difficult time to catch some air. Witnessing just how on edge you make these soldiers, moving every centimeter you moved, she finally figured out what it was she was silently pleading for - she wanted you to stop moving.

The heavy huff Robin breathed through her nose told her that she wasn't too pleased with your teasing. She was trying to get under your skin, yet you were only getting under hers. And you made it look so easy. "What did I tell you, my naïve child?" she declared, her hands falling away from Wanda, and the witch saw the slight movement in your shoulders. Letting yourself relax even more now that the scientist wasn't touching the witch. "You shouldn't trust anybody."

"I learned that when you started treating me like your little guinea pig," you claimed.

"Those trials made you what you are!" she proclaimed, aggravated, enraged. Betrayed? She appeared to have this sick, twisted vision in her mind that you were her own flesh and blood, and being in cahoots with HYDRA's greatest enemy… She looks at that as being stabbed in the back. "I gave you a gift and you're taking it for granted!"

You chuckled, but Wanda seemed to have a difficult time finding the humor in the sound. "You have no idea what I am or what you gave me," you countered. "Super speed isn't my power. I am super speed." Wanda's gasp seemed to be heard despite the softness of it, the thick silence in the room could be carved with a butter knife. I'm nothing if not fast. "Do you understand how frustrating it is for me to move this slow? You can't begin to fathom how painful it is to force myself to slow down enough to even have this conversation!" She could see the fury in your eyes, the clenched jaw, tight fists, the hatred you held towards Robin, towards HYDRA. You were… angry. Genuinely so. The playfulness Wanda had always seen on you was nowhere to be found, and it caused shivers to erupt up her spine as she processed what she was feeling. Fear.

It wasn't even a second later that you had appeared directly behind Wanda and Robin, nobody being able to process the movement until your voice cut through the air once more, causing the women to nearly jump out of their skin.

"I'm faster than a bullet. I'm unkillable. Practically immortal, but I still feel pain." At your words, the soldiers waved their guns to point at you, but it was too late. You were already gone, the gust of wind caused by your sudden disappearance nearly knocked the ladies off their feet. "Shoot me!" Wanda followed the sound of your voice, her eyes landing on you between the cluster of soldiers.

They separated, scrambling apart to point their guns at you once more. Your arms were held out wide, palms facing her, as you quickly became surrounded by weapons. "Y/N, stop!" Wanda pleaded, your gaze meeting hers. Your arms lowered, and the rage she had seen in your eyes vanquished the instant you breathed out. "Please." She took a step, her arm reaching for you, watching the relaxation of your constricted jaw, the slight tilt of your head as you nearly met her outstretched hand.

Robin saw it at that moment. The connection between you and Wanda is as clear as day. "You never did listen to me when you were growing up," Robin announced. "You were always the trouble child out of the class. Even now, I see just how little my words affect you."

"What are you on about?" you questioned.

"Trust. It's such a delicate thing, isn't it?" Robin grinned. "You've come to trust SHIELD, yet do they trust you?" Your form straightened, your feet shuffling at the scientist's words. "I'm aware of the others. The android, the archer. The assassin. We know they're here." She crossed her arms over her chest, knowing she had your attention by the way your eyes snapped onto hers. "Let's see just how fast you truly are, my child." She laughed softly, a taunting sound.

A gunshot echoed throughout Wanda's head, her heart stilling at the sound, her breath hitching in her throat, yet your eyes met hers within seconds. It took her only a moment to process that it had been heard through her comms, not here. You were still standing, but that couldn't be said at whatever was happening on the other end of her earpiece. It took you even less time to piece Robin's words together. Within seconds, the soldiers were on the floor and you were nowhere to be seen before she took a step towards you. Wanda didn't hesitate to run to the door.

“Fascinating…” Wanda ignored the soft-spoken word Robin breathed out, desperate to catch up to you, but she knew it’d be too late by the time she reached you. "She doesn't know much about you, does she?" The scientist’s voice stopped her dead in her tracks, turning to look at the woman Wanda quickly came to loathe. "You have something of mine." The flash drive tucked away in her dress seemed to only grow heavier, yet the witch stood her ground, her jaw locked, her hands clenched into tight fists by her sides. "Despite many of Y/N's thoughts about me, I do have a nice side. Consider it a gift, from me to you." She looked away from Wanda, releasing a heavy sigh as she pondered the mess of unconscious guards, humming a soft, familiar song as she turned to walk deeper into the lab.

Wanda took this as an opportunity to leave, racing down the hall and up the stairs, desperate to recall the way to the ballroom to catch up to you. When she burst through the doors, time only seemed slow as most of the guests - all gathered in the middle of the dance floor - turned to her at the sound of her arrival. Her foot kicked something that drew her attention, her eyes averting to the ground to see the bullet steadily roll away from her, and it only took the one for her to notice the many. Bullets riddled the floor, yet nobody in the area seemed to be harmed other than the unconscious HYDRA agents scattered around the room.

Her heart seemed to beat loudly in her ears the closer she got to the gathered group. She had yet to find you, her hands shaking as she pushed her way through the mass of party goers. She passed Vision, his face etched with sorrow as he opened his mouth, but she couldn't hear what he had said. Not with the steady hammer banging away in her eardrums - she thought for sure her heart was about to leap out of her chest.

Clint was at the front of the group, blocking whatever it was that had drawn everybody to the dance floor in such a bundled manner. She placed a hand on his shoulder, but she didn't feel him as she gently shoved him out of her way, stepping past the archer to finally see…

Her heart stopped. Frozen in its place to the point where it was no longer rendering her deaf. In the midst of the crowd, you sat on the floor, your face bright pink and puffy. Tears gathered in your eyes as you seemed to be incapable of taking them off of Natasha, wrapped tightly in your arms as you rocked back and forth. Your hand, stained red with blood, pressed against her stomach in a desperate attempt to keep her away from the ledge. Wanda couldn't determine the state of the redhead - was she alive? Dead? Were you too late?

She called for you and, at the sound of your name in her voice, you picked your head up to meet Wanda's glistening emerald eyes. Your chin trembled, and your hold on Natasha only seemed to grow tighter.

Dread filled her veins as your whispered words echoed in her head… “I wasn’t fast enough.”

Chapter 2