#wanda Maximoff

[natandwandaseries]

Literally the Nat and Wanda Series

Was scrolling through AO3 and found this gem

Enemy to parent is a trope we have to popularise lmao

[mmywanda]

Dandelion — W.M

chapter one of Forbidden Pleasure

—

Pairing: CEO!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you decided to join your family's business, you had no idea the ceo of the rival company would be so.. alluring.

Warnings: None.. yet ;)

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: My first series! I promise it’s going to get more exciting soon, this was just setting things up.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

—

You'd never been into business. Despite your family being famous for their own very successful company, Nexus. No, you preferred working in that little library, where it was quiet, and the most stressful it got was when someone returned their books too late. Why would you want to be involved in a business full of money hungry people who think of nothing but financial success?

So that was precisely what you told your father when he called you up one Saturday morning, trying to persuade you into following in the footsteps of the majority of your family. And what didn't help your case was the fact you'd be laid off from your job, as there wasn't enough funding in the library to keep all four employees.

"I don't want to be a part of it, dad, I've told you this so many times." You spoke between chews, the crunch of your slightly burnt toast echoing through the call.

"You're twenty two, (Y/N), it's time you step up and join us. You could be valuable to the team."

You rolled your eyes, "And what value would that be?" Both of you knew that you'd passed through college with barely average results, and was lucky to have found a decently paying job that didn't require better grades.

"You're good with people, we need that."

Glancing over at the small stack of bills across you on the kitchen table, you sighed. "I don't want it to change me." What if you turned into an emotionless robot? And had to work behind a desk everyday? And that desk may be on the twenty fourth level of a glass tower building?

"You won't change, I know you."

Doubt swirled around in your mind, eyes scanning the small apartment you lived in. You would have to find a job soon, though it would be difficult given your low qualifications and lack of experience. Here you were, being offered a job that would most likely be well paying.

"Fine. I'll do it."

—

The first matter of business was shopping. Your wardrobe consisted of cardigans, faded jeans, a skirt you refused to ever wear again and a few shirts that looked very outdated compared to the modern city you lived in.

Walking into a clothing store that wasn't your typical go-to was scary. You'd chosen a different one so you could find more professional outfits— because you'd probably be kicked out of the office if you were to walk in wearing your usual attire.

"May I offer you some assistance?" A woman appeared in front of you almost two seconds after you'd stepped through the automatic doors. Her eyes scanned you, as it was obvious this was your first time in that store.

You smiled, shaking your head, "No, it's okay thank you. I'm just browsing." When she left with a nod, you walked to the pants section, looking at the wide selection of styles, material and colours. You didn't even know where to begin. Eventually you decided that darker shades like grey, black or navy would be appropriate. Picking a few out, you folded them over your arm, ready for the dressing room later.

Next was shirts, that just like the pants, had a very large selection, perhaps even more. A sigh left your lips.

Twenty minutes later you'd accumulated clothing items and two pairs of shoes. It was a bit of a struggle to get to the dressing rooms, and once inside a cubicle, you dropped the pile onto the stool. Another sigh left your lips. Is this what business people went through every year? Well, probably every month, based on what you knew of business people. Granted, your only knowledge of business style was from The Office, and it wasn't like that show was renowned for its fashion sense.

Trying on a few outfits, matching different things, you decided on what you would purchase. Making your way to the cashiers, you avoided the gaze of the store assistant.

"That will be three hundred and eleven dollars, fifty cents." The cashier's bright smile almost smoothed over your shock, but not quite. Three hundred and eleven dollars?!

As much as you wanted to apologise and leave to find a store that had cheaper prices, you wouldn't be able to handle the judgemental stare of that woman. So, you got your card out and pressed it against the card reader. When it let out a double beep, indicating it hadn't been approved, you tried again, to which the cashier said, "You have to put your card in. The contactless limit is two hundred."

Your face flushed. If it wasn't obvious that you hadn't spent this much money before, it was now.

That evening, you laid on your couch, staring at the cracks in your ceiling, instant ramen in a bowl, cooling down from its boiling temperature. You thought about what would happen tomorrow, your first day in the office. Well, you knew you wouldn't have a desk job exactly, you'd be more like an assistant to any of the managers or executives— whatever that meant.

Trying to shake your mind of all the worries, you ate your ramen, despite it burning your tongue. At least it was a distraction from the overthinking anyway.

—

You woke up with a start, phone alarm blaring. Your first instinct was to sit up, but an ache in your neck forced you to pause. It seemed you'd fallen asleep on the couch, head having been in an awkward position all night. You thanked the you from yesterday who set the alarm in preparation and had placed the phone beside you.

It didn't take long to put your chosen outfit on, but what did take long was pleasing the perfectionist in you. You stood in front of the mirror for a while, adjusting your hair this way and that, fiddling with the simple silver necklace you were wearing.

"It's no big deal, (Y/N), you're not going to meet anyone important on your first day."

That's what you kept telling yourself during your journey to the office building. It took a train and a four minute walk until you reached your destination. Walking into the lobby, you were struck by how sharp, clean and unnecessarily big it was. Pale marble flooring, bright white walls, even brighter ceiling lights despite it being a sunny day outside. And the very large 'NEXUS' logo on the far wall. Your shoes squeaked against the marble, and you wondered what sort of material the soles were made out of. Perhaps the marble was made to mock people with shoes worth less than a thousand dollars.

"How may I help you?" The receptionist asked as you approached him. You smiled, masking your nerves.

"I'm (Y/N), I'm meant to be starting my job today."

He nodded quickly, suddenly sitting up straighter, you assumed because he believed he would get in trouble if he wasn't the most professional he could be in front of his boss's daughter. You then noticed his name badge that read 'Evan'.

Evan picked up the reception phone, tapping a few numbers before speaking, telling someone that you had arrived. The conversation was short.

"Take the elevator to the ninth floor, first door on the right." He pointed you in the right direction. You gave him your thanks and then found yourself inside the small metal box also known as an elevator. You hated them, though you guessed it would have to become part of your routine now.

Once arriving on the ninth floor, you examined the decor— plain walls with an occasional framed art piece (the kind that looked like a toddler had painted that would sell for millions).

Hearing distant voices coming from various closed doors, you decided dallying wouldn't make the start of shift any easier. You found the first door on the right, knocking lightly until you heard a familiar voice call out— "Come in." So you did.

The office was spacious, a desk in the middle, and seating behind it was your father. He gave you a warm smile, standing up with an outstretched hand. You mentally sighed at his usual strange way of greeting family members. You shook his hand before taking a seat in front of him.

"It's good to see you here, when was the last time you visited?" He prompted, clicking his silver pen against the table.

"A few years ago, the Christmas party."

You remembered it begrudgingly. The night you fell onto a table that happened to be seating several ice filled buckets for the champagne. Let's just say it was an extremely humiliating memory that always made you shiver. The chill of the ice had never quite escaped you.

Your father chuckled, nodding as he recalled the same night. "Ah, yes. How could I forget." You rolled your eyes, refusing to smile until he changed the subject. "Anyway, let's talk business."

He pulled out a new planner journal, handing it to you. Flicking through it, you noticed a lot of dates neatly jotted in. You gave him a questioning look.

"My assistant kindly added important dates and meetings."

Your eyes widened slightly, "I'm going to join meetings?" That was something you hadn't expected.

"As a note taker, for now." His expression showed how keen he was for you to progress in your role and reach a high position in the company on your own. He wasn't going to get you a higher job just because you were his kid.

Scanning the dates written down for the current week, you saw there was a meeting scheduled for today. Anxiety immediately bubbled inside you at the thought of being in such a professional setting with equally professional people, as an inexperienced ex-librarian.

"Don't worry, (Y/N). It's not a huge deal." He hesitated, before correcting himself. "Okay, it is a big deal."

You groaned, leaning back in the chair that you had to admit was very uncomfortable. "What is it about? Stock shares or something?" It was very obvious that you pulled the term out of your very limited knowledge on business that lived in the back of your brain, because your father's eyebrows creased in amusement.

"It's our annual meeting with Maximoff Industries. And let's just say our companies have difficulty clicking."

The name 'Maximoff Industries' was familiar. You knew that they created things in the technology area, and as it so happened, Nexus did too, so it was no wonder they didn't 'click'.

"How do they normally go?" You had to gauge how terrible the experience would be for you. Scenarios ran through your mind, the most rational being; raised tones, interrupted sentences, perhaps even a few cold glares (gasp).

"We have a small partnership in a few products, so the disagreements normally stem from financial shares, and what name is listed first under the annual report. It normally ends in a handshake though." He attempted a smile, but it was clear that he had a very strong distaste for Maximoff Industries. "It doesn't help that their CEO, Wanda Maximoff is a.. difficult person to get along with in terms of business."

"Why?" You asked, wanting to know what to expect in the meeting, even if you were going to be sitting in the corner.

Your father sighed, leaning back in his chair. "She's.." He thought for a long hard moment. "She has this look, like she knows more than you, like she's superior. And she very obviously craves control over every situation without explicitly expressing it. It's infuriating, but hard to explain."

It didn't seem like much to go on; having a certain expression and craving control. Wasn't that a description of half of the earth's population?

Your father checked his watch, "It's going to start in twenty minutes." You internally panicked, because you hadn't expected things to start so soon. He smiled kindly, leaning forward in his chair a bit.

"It's okay, (Y/N), you're not going to be talking." That didn't exactly reassure you, because it meant you would have to maintain a calm act in case anyone looked your way.

"Alright, let's do this." Faking positivity was the first step, right?

—

The meeting room was empty when you and other representatives from Nexus walked in, including your father. They all took their seats, presumably their allocated ones. There was a chair set aside from the very long table, which you guessed was for you. Sliding it backwards a bit, you sat, spending a very awkward minute trying to decide how to position your legs. Should you cross them or not? Before you could come to a decision, you heard people entering the room.

You looked up, counting five very professional looking businesspeople. Thinking that was all, you opened your notebook, until you sensed one last presence. Glancing across the room, a woman entered.

She was dressed in a black suit, white shirt and heels. Hair brunette with lighter streaks, eyes a deep shade of green. But the overriding feature of this woman was her aura. Everyone in the room fell silent, most of the Nexus members seemed to have a polite but forced smile.

"Ms Maximoff, it's good to see you." Your father announced, making a small gesture with his hand to indicate for the woman to sit at the opposite end of the table— although she'd already done so.

"Yes, it's a pleasure, Julian." Wanda Maximoff replied, her tone smooth, with an underlying accent you hadn't heard before. It was very alluring all the same. You noticed she'd addressed your father by his first name.

"How have you been? I heard y—" Your father began, until he was cut off.

"Let's just get to business, shall we?" Wanda's hands rested on top of the table, revealing her many intricate and no doubt expensive silver rings.

"Oh, yes." Julian cleared his throat, gesturing to his coworker, a manager to start the presentation. You tried your best to quickly note down the points the manager was making, including comments from the other company.

But you felt your attention slipping, because from your angle, Wanda Maximoff was just to the left of the presentation screen. You were inexplicably drawn to her, the way she held herself, and not to mention her immense beauty.

You were suddenly startled when the face you were staring at turned, green eyes locking with yours. All oxygen left your lungs, not from panic of being caught staring during a professional meeting, but because Wanda Maximoff was piercing. Though her head tilted back to the presentation. Finally you were able to breathe, fingers gripping the notebook edges.

"So what's the point of decreasing the amount of products manufactured if it's in high demand?" Wanda questioned, leaning back in her seat slightly, directing the question towards your father instead of the manager.

He paused, thinking through his answer before replying. "Retailers are going to be bidding higher prices in order to stock it."

Wanda Maximoff's eyebrows quirked, a slight upturn of her lips now revealing to you what your father had described earlier; The Look. It indeed felt like she was in control, as if she was negotiating a deal with a child.

"Why don't we ask someone else's opinion?" Wanda's eyes snapped to you. Horror rushed through you as everyone followed Wanda's directed stare. All eyes were on you.

You felt your face heat up, having absolutely no idea what to say or do other than look towards your father helplessly. He nodded his head, as if urging me to speak so they could move on quickly.

"Uh—" Words were failing you. Wanda's expression shifted from expectancy to amusement. She was enjoying your embarrassment, it seemed. "I think it could work.. people tend to want to buy things that are exclusive." You didn't have anything to base that opinion on, but you hoped it sounded more certain than it did in your head.

Wanda's stare remained on you for a few agonising seconds before nodding once, accepting your answer. "Let's take ten, my team need to discuss this." Everyone nodded quickly in agreement. The Nexus members waited for the others to leave the room, but they didn't. Your father let out a very quiet but infuriated sigh at Wanda's blank though slightly smug expression . He stood, muttering to everyone to leave with him, including you. You'd never exited a room so quickly.

Once you were a few metres down the corridor, you exhaled, leaning against the wall, the conversation between your company distant to your ears. You were busy calming down from the humiliation. You hadn't felt this way since falling into a table with ice buckets in this very building.

Why had Wanda singled you out? Surely she knew how uncomfortable that would be for someone who was clearly new.

You needed water. Luckily you knew of the staff lounge that had a supply of refreshments.

The 'lounge' was thankfully empty, consisting of several pristine couches and counter with a kettle and an array of coffees and teas. You headed towards the water cooler. Grabbing a small paper cup, you flicked on the switch for the water to start filling the cup slowly. It was when it reached the halfway mark that you were startled by a voice.

"It's an interesting opinion that you have."

You spun around, facing Wanda Maximoff. It was hard to breathe again.

"Do you know a lot about consumer behaviour?" She asked, emerald eyes fixed on yours. The question stunned you for a moment, not entirely understanding. But you'd done enough reading to be able to guess what her words meant.

"Not really, I just notice what people around me seem to buy." Good, you're doing good— you told yourself.

"You don't do the buying?" She asked, head slightly tilted to the side.

You let out a nervous chuckle, shaking your head. "Oh, no. I'm the type to keep something until it's completely incapable of doing its job." For example; your toaster.

Wanda's lips twitched into a smile that almost felt like a smirk. "That's an unfortunate attitude to have when you're working in this industry." You swallowed, throat feeling very dry as you still hadn't had that water yet. Wanda seemed to finally notice the cup in your hand.

"Drink."

The simple word felt like a command, and you found yourself raising your cup without hesitation and taking a gulp of water. It felt like a relief to your dry throat. The woman's smile was now definitely a smirk, though what she was smirking at, you didn't know.

"I haven't seen you around here before. When did you start?" The question was a simple one, but the way Wanda delivered it made it seem a lot more important, like she actually interested.

You were just glad it was an easy one to answer. "Today, actually."

She nodded slowly, "You're Julian's daughter?"

"Yeah, he's wanted me here for a while, and I needed a job." You had to tell yourself to just chill out, because you were starting to overthink your answers, despite there being no need to.

Wanda reached a hand out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, inadvertently directing your attention to her hands. The silver rings shaped her fingers perfectly, the dark red varnish on her nails standing out as they brushed against her hair. You swallowed, forcing yourself to look away.

"Those plants look half dead."

Your eyebrows raised at her very random statement. Since when did plants become a part of the conversation? You went along with it, noticing the few potted plants and vases with flowers that did look very wilted.

"Do you know the name of that one?" Wanda pointed to a specific plant, green leaves and yellow flowers. You knew nothing about plants.

"Tulip?" It was more of a question than an answer. Wanda let out a chuckle at your painfully wrong answer. She shook her head in amusement.

"Dandelion." She stated, suddenly studying you with some type of curiosity and intrigue. "You remind me of a dandelion."

Your expression was quizzical, wondering why a yellow flower could be associated to you in any kind of way. "Why?"

Wanda smiled mysteriously, carefully leaving the question unanswered as she checked her watch. You could tell by the watch strap alone that it was probably worth more than your student debt. "The break is over." And with that, she began walking away, her heels clicking against the floor. You were stunned for a few seconds before snapping out of it. Realising that the cup was still in your hand, you threw it away, walking as quickly as you could back to the meeting room without embarrassing yourself.

Everyone was in the room by the time you'd survived the walk back. You kept your eyes down and sat in your corner (of shame). The conversations started again, and you tried your best, yet again, to make notes. It was a bit easier to concentrate as Wanda hadn't done any talking yet.

It was boring, really, listening to your father and Maximoff Industries' representatives disagree on very simple things like the font for whatever the damn products they wanted to sell.

Finally, Wanda spoke up after listening to the conversation she appeared to have found just as boring as you had. "Let's do it. Less products for higher sales, as ridiculous as it sounds. Though, something would have to be put in place.”

You glanced up from your notebook, pen hovering above the page. Even Wanda’s own coworkers seemed confused.

“I will have regular meetings with a representative from Nexus, just so I can keep up to date with your side of this new decision.”

You could practically see the cogs in your father’s brain whirring, as he probably didn’t know now if this new idea would be a mistake. He cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll look at my schedu—“

“It will be (Y/N).” Wanda stated clearly. Once again, you found all attention on you. You were just as bewildered as the other surprised faces.

“Me?” You uttered, cheeks flushed at the idea of Wanda Maximoff wanting to meet you again.

A smile twitched on your lips as she studied you from across the room. You felt the presences around you fade away when your eyes locked with green ones. She spoke in a slow but deliberate way, “You will accept, won’t you?”

Without thinking twice, you simply replied, “Yes.”

—

[fandomnerd9602]

Just a Little Drive

Country!Wanda x Reader

She couldn’t believe her luck. As an early wedding gift, you bought your country girl Wanda her pa’s old 1950s Pontiac GTO. It was old and rusted but Wanda was immediately crying.

“It’s just like how I remembered it” she gently ran her hands over the rusted surface. Her mind went ablaze with the memories of her pa and ma driving her and her brother Piet through the countryside.

You and Pietro spent the next few weekends slowly restoring it. You worked on reupholstering the interior. Pietro worked on the engine. The two of you worked to scrap all the rust off the body of the car. Wanda worked on finding the radio and the perfect shade of hot rod red to put on the car.

She and Pietro regaled you with tales of your life with your ma and pa. It was amazing to hear tales of familial love and affection. While you never got a chance to meet them, you felt that you got to know thru the tales that the twins told.

Within a matter of weeks, you, Pietro and Wanda got the Pontiac restored; it looked like it was taken right off the car lot. Wanda was ecstatic.

“Oh it looks even better than it did back when Pa drove it!” Wanda exclaimed, tears beginning to stream down her face.

Pietro and you look at her with a little bittersweet smile. “I know Ma and Pa would give anything to be here with you, sis” Pietro says.

“I-I found the car online” you explain, “I figured we would have it for our family vehicle, you know…keeping a part of them alive with us on our wedding day”

Wanda hugged you both tightly, “thank you.” A little giggle with her country twang escaped her lips. She felt so blessed to have two amazing people in her life.

Later that night, you were putting the finishing touches on the detailing in the garage. You felt a familiar presence sneaking up behind you as you completed the job.

“You can’t sneak up on me anymore, my country girl”

Wanda giggles, standing there in her comfy set of Bewitched PJs, the ones you got her for her birthday. “I had to try, city boy” she smirks at you.

“I hope this little wedding gift is okay”

“It’s more than okay, baby. It’s perfect.” she smiles at you.

You open the back door for her. Wanda gladly slips into the car of her childhood.

The radio turned on. Wanda couldn’t help but giggle. The song practically described her to a T…

(She’s Everything by Brad Paisley)

She's a yellow pair of running shoes

A holey pair of jeans

She looks great in cheap sunglasses

She looks great in anything

She's, "I want a piece of chocolate"

"Take me to a movie"

She's, "I can't find a thing to wear”

Now and then she's moody

She's a Saturn with a sunroof

With her brown hair a-blowing

She's a soft place to land

And a good feeling knowing

She's a warm conversation

That I wouldn't miss for nothing

She's a fighter when she's mad

And she's a lover when she's loving

And she's everything I ever wanted

And everything I need

I talk about her

I go on and on, and on

'Cause she's everything to me

Wanda couldn’t help but giggle. Your country girl moved into your lap, straddling you and wrapping her arms around your neck. “My city boy” she whispers before kissing you hungrily. You wrap your arms around her waist, gently running your hands up and down her back, kissing her with the same equal passion.

She's a Saturday out on the town

And a church girl on Sunday

She's a cross around her neck

And a cuss word 'cause it's Monday

She's a bubble bath and candles

Baby, come and kiss me

She's a one glass of wine

And she's feeling kinda tipsy

She's the giver I wish I could be

And the stealer of the covers

She's a picture in my wallet

The cabin of the Pontiac filled up with the sounds of laughter and giggles between you and your country girl. The windows quickly fogged up. Wanda’s hand hit the back passenger window. She tried to catch her breath.

“You’re gonna take my breath away, city boy” she giggled as she kissed you tenderly.

“You constantly take mine away, country girl” you respond.

“Gettin’ kinda sinful.” she smirks, “you better make an honest girl outta me”

You kiss her knuckles and look at the engagement ring on her finger. “Well we got a month or so. Best decision I ever made.” Your gal giggles and kisses you again.

Someday when I'm ninety

She's that wooden rocking chair

I want rocking right beside me

Every day that passes

I only love her more

Yeah, she's the one

That I'd lay down my own life for

And she's everything I ever wanted

And everything I need

She's everything to me

Yeah, she's everything to me

Everything I ever wanted

And everything I need

She's everything to me

You kiss her nose, allowing yourselves to be happy and blissful as you held each other in the backseat of that old Pontiac.

“You’re everything to me” you whispered into the crook of her neck.

“You’re everything to me” she whispered back.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @multi-fandom-enjoyer @revanshand @russianredassassin @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @dudesweet17 @texaswolf23 @arsenysworld @moonlit-imagines @moonlit-ficrecs @olsenmyolsen @idkwhatever580

[tamilhobbit]

We were robbed.

In a timeline where Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lives in the compound:

Steve, walking into the living room: Don't worry Buck I think you'll really fit in around here. Everyone is super nice

Peter: Oh my god you're living here too?! Can I please look at your arm? Please please please please please-

Bucky: *turns around and leaves*

-

Clint: So... wanna test if your spider-sense defeats my perfect aim?

Peter: Oh my god do I ever

Tony & Steve: NO.

-

Peter: Hi. Big fan. Y'know we're like a spider duo. Crime fighting spiders. Arachnid pals

Natasha, staring blankly:

Peter: Web friends? SPY-ders?

Natasha:

Peter: Spinneret associates?

Natasha: Leave.

Peter: Yes okay sorry ma'am

-

During a meal:

Bucky: *glaring at Sam*

Sam: Ay Rogers come get your dog

Steve: Bucky, leave it

Bucky: *glares down at soup instead*

-

Peter: Mr. Rogers could you help me with my homework?

Tony: What the hell kid, I'm right here

Bruce: I have... so many degrees

Steve: Hey I know a thing or two myself. Sure Queens, what do you got?

Peter: Great! I'm just gonna ask some questions for my essay. What would you say the role of war propaganda was in your decision to enroll in the military? Was being poor a factor? Actually, how was the Great Depression for you?

Steve: Less depressing than this conversation.

-

Steve: Take a jacket, it's chilly

Wanda: Okay thanks dad

Steve:

Wanda:

Peter: Ha! That's so embarrassing, it's like calling your teacher dad

Wanda: Shut up Peter, you call Tony dad all the time

Peter: Yeah but I do it on purpose so it's not embarrassing. I'm very open about my daddy issues

-

Tony: I wanna punch you in your perfect teeth

Steve:

Tony: Looking at me with your angelic blue eyes, like a freak

Steve:

Tony: Stupid Dorito ass build. Making me wanna take a bite

Steve: I feel harassed but I'm not sure what kind

-

Natasha: Hey bird brain!

Clint and Sam both turn:

Natasha: Hm, that's a problem. You have thirty seconds to decide who gets bird brain. The other will be feather head

Clint and Sam: *start arguing*

Tony: I can't believe they're fighting to be called an insult

Steve: She has that effect on people

Peter: Aw man, I wish the Black Widow gave me a nickname :(

-

Peter: Hey old man

Bucky:

Peter: I'M SO SORRY SIR MR. WILSON MADE ME DO IT PLEASE DONT KILL ME

Sam: *cackling in the background*

Bucky: *stands up and turns to Sam*

Sam: Oh shit- kid you're not getting the money if you're gonna snitch!

Peter: That's okay, I'd like to think my life is worth more than twenty bucks

-

Bucky: I need your... help

Tony: Sure, what's up?

Bucky: *glances back at Steve who stands in the doorway and nods approvingly*

Bucky: Arm.

Tony: Ok... this conversation is killing you isn't it?

Bucky:

Tony: Say please

Bucky: Nope can't do it-

Steve: Do I need to get out the get-along shirt?

*Bucky and Tony share a look of alarm*

Bucky: Please fix my arm

Tony: Yep of course no problem buddy

-

Read Part 2 and Part 3

[ksandraxox]

it is FanTASTIC! 💜

[wandascrush]

Traitor

Warnings: angstttt, betrayal, arguments, romantic tension, very stressful situations, lying, toxic Nat ngl, allusions to sex

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader, Avengers x f!reader

A/N: Part 5 of my DIWK series! Summary: The truth always has a way of coming out- and todays the day

Fast forward four months 

   The wind blew fiercely against your window as you awoke, sensing an unusual tension in the air—a buzz, as if nature itself was angry. You fluffed your shaggy h/c hair and swung your tired legs out of the warm bed, extricating yourself from the comfortable embrace of a woman’s arm wrapped around your waist. Not just any woman, but Natasha Romanoff—the world’s greatest assassin, a highly skilled martial artist, and your girlfriend. Well, kind of. She didn’t want to label it, and you’d gotten used to that. Things with Wanda had fizzled out, and she was now one of your closest friends. Stability was slowly but surely creeping back into your life.

Just then, your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you from your morning trance. An encrypted message from Agent Hill: another file to drop off at the HYDRA data server and report back. No pleasantries, no reassurances. The anxiety that once clouded your mind about this operation had dissipated over the months. You had grown confident in your skills, so close to the finish line now. You just needed one more piece of information about a new serum they were developing—something about a super-soldier project. Deliver that, and you would be officially done with HYDRA, Samantha, and all the vile people who worked there. A free agent—literally.

You pulled the file from its folder, reviewing the intel they provided this time. Not bad, surprisingly.

You dressed slowly, your legs sore from prior activities with your “girlfriend.” Natasha’s sleeping form rustled in the sheets before settling, a gentle huff of breath escaping her lips.

At the base, you navigated the winding corridors, each step echoing louder than the last. The data server room was buried at the heart of the building, and each doorway you passed felt like a checkpoint in a prison. Fluorescent overhead lights buzzed, casting a stark, sterile glow that complemented the coldness of the place. Reaching the server room, you slid your ID across the panel, entering as the heavy door hissed shut behind you.

The space was mostly empty, save for the hum of servers and the dull glow of screens casting eerie shadows. A lone technician glanced up at you, nodding in acknowledgment. You were well-known by now—both for your envied operation and proximity to HYDRA’s high command.

You approached one of the terminals, connected your encrypted drive, and waited as it loaded the contents onto their system. But as you watched the file transfer, doubt crept in. How many more lies before they caught up with you? Were they already catching up, and maybe you didn’t know it?

The file finished transferring. You removed your drive, pocketing it quickly. Turning to leave, you caught the technician watching you from the corner of your eye, his gaze lingering a moment too long. You met his eyes and offered a quick nod, concealing the flicker of alarm you felt as he turned back to his work.

Returning to the compound that afternoon felt like a relief. As you stepped into your hall, orange shadows of the sun creeping in through the glass walls, the quiet was broken by a familiar voice.

“Back so soon?”

Natasha’s slid into your view like silk. She was leaning against the wall in the corridor, arms crossed, her expression unreadable—as per usual.

You tried to keep your face neutral, but her sharp gaze seemed to peel back every layer you’d carefully constructed. “Mission ended earlier than expected,” you replied.

She arched an eyebrow, gaze narrowing slightly. “Right. Just strange. Fury usually sends the rest of us a notice when someone’s out. And you leave me a note. Or text.”

“It was classified,” you shrugged, trying to deflect, hoping she wouldn’t probe further.

Natasha’s smirk softened, but her gaze didn’t waver. She stepped closer, her presence intense. “You’ve been slipping away a lot lately, honey,” she murmured, her tone low. “Everyone’s noticed.” Her beautiful green eyes bore into you, calculating your every expression.

There was no accusation in her words, only an edge of curiosity. But the weight of the lies began to press down, your chest tightening with the guilt you’d tried so hard to ignore. “It’s not like that, Nat,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

She reached out, her fingers grazing your arm—a touch that felt like both an anchor and a pull. “Then what’s it like?”

For a heartbeat, you wanted to tell her. Instead, you swallowed the words, your throat tightening. “You know how this job is, Tasha. It’s complicated.”

A flicker of something—hurt, maybe—crossed her face before she masked it, letting her hand fall away. She stepped back, crossing her arms again. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

She scoffed, “Doesn’t seem that way.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it.” You squeezed past her, accidentally bumping her shoulder as you did.

Her hand caught yours. “You know I can help, right? Whatever it is.”

You forced a half-smile, “Not this time, honey.”

Natasha held your gaze for a moment longer before nodding, though the air between you felt strained, taut with the things left unsaid. She turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the dim corridor, the weight of her words lingering.

You stared at the ceiling, Natasha’s words looping in your mind. Everyone’s noticed. You wondered if that included Wanda. The thought of her finding out, of her piecing together the truth, was terrifying. She’d already uncovered your family’s past—if she found out everything else…

You didn’t want to think about it.

About twice a week, Natasha would come and sleep in your room, especially after tough training days or a bad mission. Tonight? She didn’t so much as text you. Ouch.

The cold floors at 3 a.m. felt soothing as you walked to the kitchen to grab a drink, catching sight of Wanda curled up on the couch, staring out the window.

Her expression was unreadable.

“Wanda?” you asked, the surprise clear in your voice.

“I couldn’t sleep again,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze was intense, searching your face as though trying to read every unspoken thought.

You grabbed two juices from the fridge, crossing the room to sit beside her. For a moment, neither of you spoke; the silence was thick.

“It was two years yesterday that I held his,” she began, her voice hesitant. “I… I didn’t even remember.”

You glanced down, your hands twisting together as you gathered your thoughts. “I know,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to remind you, since you didn’t mention it.” Wanda adored her brother, and you adored her. You didn’t want to worsen her pain by adding a reminder. 

    Her hand reached out, covering yours, her touch warm and steady. “I visited his grave earlier,” she swallowed, “left a small baby’s breath bouquet.” “It’s always only one bouquet, but today when I visited him- there were already flowers there.”

  You didn’t know if you should also mention that you left flowers, but when you looked up, Wanda’s eyes were already staring into yours. Her gaze softened, and you felt the pull again, that magnetic connection that made your friendship feel impossible sometimes.

“Wanda…” 

She gingerly brushed a strand of hair from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. 

“Now your hair is perfect.”

“It’s always perfect, witchy.” 

Her cheeky white smile glowed in the darkness. 

   The next few days most of your training was done with Peter, Clint, or Steve, completely ruling out the possibility of any more relationship messiness. The tension with Natasha, the fragileness you held with Wanda—it was all starting to pull at the threads of your mind once again.

You will never forget that day. That was the day your life changed forever. You often think of what might’ve been, if you hadn’t joined the avengers and all. Just stayed as a high level SHIELD agent. 

Maybe it all would’ve been fine, if not for that Thursday. That stupid fucking Thursday. And for Nick Fury. But you didn’t know all that yet. 

   You swiftly moved through the hallways on your way to meet Bruce in the lab, your mind elsewhere, when a familiar rasp called your name. 

“Y/N.”

You turned to see Natasha, her gaze sharp, expression unreadable. She nodded toward one of the empty conference rooms. “We need to talk.”

You followed her inside, the silence between you thick with unspoken words. You felt like a little kid in trouble with the principal. When the door shut, she turned to you, her arms crossed, her stance tense.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” she asked, her tone steady but laced with frustration.

Your heart pounded, every instinct screaming to deflect, to lie. But standing there, facing Natasha’s intense gaze, the walls you’d built felt paper-thin.

“I…No.”

She took a step closer, her voice soft but firm. “Y/N, I don’t know what’s going on, but I will find out.”

The intensity in her gaze, the determination, left you breathless. She was offering you an out, a lifeline, but taking it would mean unraveling everything. You were practically at the finish line. 

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the compound’s alarm blared, cutting through the tension. Natasha’s gaze flickered to the door, her expression shifting to frustration. 

“Of course,” she muttered, looking back to you. 

She turned and left the room, leaving you standing there, your chest tight and burning. 

    The mission had been going well until you were cornered in a tight hallway by a mercenary, his face hidden by a tactical helmet and wielding a blade that gleamed under the dim light. You threw up an arm to block his initial swing, but he was relentless, landing a hit to your side that knocked the breath from you. Blood trickled from a cut on your arm, but you pushed through, angling for a counterattack.

    Before you could make another move, a blast of red energy hit from behind, sending the attacker flying into a wall. Surprised, you turned to see Wanda, her hands crackling with energy. She stepped between you and the mercenary, red tendrils floating around his head before he fainted. 

“Thought you might need a hand,” she said, her tone light, but her eyes betrayed the worry simmering beneath.

You forced a smile, though your pride ached at her interference. “I had it under control.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push it. She held your gaze a moment longer, “Sure you did, L/N.” 

Before you could answer, Natasha’s voice crackled through the comms. “Y/N, Wanda—stop messing around and regroup. Now.”

Her tone was clipped, cold, and even through the comms, you could feel the chill.

You two shared a quick, slightly guilty glance before moving back to rejoin the others. Throughout the rest of the mission, Natasha barely looked at you, and when she did, her expression was hardened, her gaze flicking quickly between you and Wanda with a disapproving edge.

Back at the compound, you found Natasha in the common area, gathering her gear with sharp, precise movements. You hovered nearby, hoping to talk, to get a hint of what was going on, but she barely acknowledged you.

“Nat,” you started, your voice soft.

“What?” Her tone was harsh, her eyes narrowing. “Something you need?”

You faltered, caught off guard by the bite in her voice. “I… I just wanted to check if you were okay.”

She scoffed, a cold smirk pulling at her lips. “That’s rich. Last I saw, you were the one who needed backup. I didn’t realize Wanda was your personal rescuer.”

The words hit like a slap, the sting of her jealousy clear. You opened your mouth to respond, but she cut you off, grabbing her bag and shouldering it without a glance in your direction. You tried to lighten the mood, “A little jealous, Romanoff?” Although you were teasing, the joke came out so soft, genuine. You gently touched the small of her back, gazing at her with worried eyes. 

“Let’s not pretend this is anything more than a job, Y/N,” she said, voice low and unyielding- she shifted out of your touch. “That way, you won’t get distracted.”

“I think we should continue our conversation from earlier-,” you were cut off before you finished your sentence 

“And what if I don’t want to talk? Ever thought about that?” 

“Earlier you said you were here for me, that I’m not alone. I don’t understand, you know I care about you. Just talk to me-,” you hadn’t anticipated the crack in your voice at the end, catching Natasha’s attention, but of course, only for a second.

She packed her bag faster. 

“Natasha please-”

“Enough!” Her loud voice bounced off the walls. 

“So what are we then? We sleep together, we share a bed, you care about me- I know you do. So what is this?”

Natashas jaw clenched, and when her eyes looked at you, they held something you’d never seen, “It’s just sex, Y/N.  Grow up. It’s what adults do.” 

She rushed past you, shoulder bumping yours, leaving you standing there. Wounded and more confused than ever- the Romanov specialty. 

As you entered a new log into your journal that night, spilling your heart about HYDRA, Wanda, Natasha, a knock sounded on your door. For once, you just wanted to be left alone. You threw the journal under the covers, running to the bathroom.

You poked your head out of the door, “In the shower, can’t talk!” You hoped it was loud enough for whatever guest to go away. It wasn’t. 

  As the scent of vanilla and citrus soap slid down your skin, rubbing any grime away and relaxing your muscles, Wanda walked into your room. She figured she’d just wait to talk with you once you got out of the shower, plopping herself down on your bed. However, as soon as she sat, something hard and stiff was felt under her, something very uncomfortable. Wanda slightly lifted herself off of the bed, blindly moving her hand around for the stiff object- finding a small journal. It was a dark red, canvas cover. Your initials were etched into the bottom right corner. 

As you stepped out of the bathroom, the sight of Wanda sitting on the edge of your bed, her hands trembling, sent a chill down your spine. Your journal lay face down on the floor, its secrets exposed. Droplets from your wet hair trickled down your back, the cold seeping through your pajamas and onto the wooden floor. The room was thick with silence. 

Wanda’s eyes, wide and glistening, locked onto yours. Her voice, barely above a whisper, broke the tension. “How long?” The weight of her question pressed heavily upon you.

Your heart raced, each beat echoing in your ears. The walls seemed to close in, the air growing thin. You opened your mouth, searching for words, but found none.

Wanda’s gaze hardened, a mixture of hurt and betrayal evident. “All this time… ” Her voice cracked, the pain palpable.

You took a tentative step forward, hands outstretched in a plea. “Wanda, I can explain—”

But she recoiled, as if your very presence burned. “Explain? How can you possibly explain this?” She gestured towards the fallen journal, her movements sharp and erratic, “It’s you. You’re the traitor, you’re the mole,” she glared at you accusingly. The red glow in her eyes grew with each second. 

Desperation clawed at you. “I  was told to lie. Ask Fury he put me—”

“Fury? Are you serious?” she interrupted, her tone dripping with disdain. “Was any of it real? Or was I just another pawn?”

You shook your head vehemently, “No, Wanda, you have to believe me. My feelings for all of you are genuine.”

She stood abruptly, red wisps crackling from her fingers, “I don’t know what to believe anymore.” 

   Before you could utter another word, the door swung open with a resounding thud. Natasha stood in the doorway, her face a mask of cold fury. Behind her, Steve and Tony loomed, their expressions grim. Natasha’s voice was icy, each word laced with venom. “Is it true? Have you been feeding information to HYDRA?”

Your knees threatened to buckle under the weight of their collective gaze. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stand upright. “It’s not what it seems. I was working undercover, on Fury’s orders. I was a SHIELD agent before an Avenger, you guys know this.”

Tony scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Convenient excuse. Got any proof?”

You reached into your pocket, fingers trembling, and producing your phone. “Call him! Ask him. Fury will tell you everything, promise.”

Steve stepped forward, grabbing your phone out of your hand- crushing it. His eyes, usually filled with warmth, were now cold and distant. “Your promises mean nothing to us anymore, Agent.”

Tony stepped further into the room, all of them cornering you, “Besides, Fury’s off grid with Maria. We just got the call.” He sucked his teeth, “But if  you two worked as closely as you say, you would’ve known before us.” The bite in Tony’s words wasn't missed. 

Fuck. 

As they turned to leave, you dove for your notebook on the ground, picking it up and practically shoving it toward Steve, “This! Read this!” ragged breaths left your mouth, “everything that’s been going on is in it. From the first day.”

Steve glanced at you warily, looking back at Natasha, “Can we trust this?” 

The redhead’s gaze toward you was icy, completely void of emotion. Your eyes pleaded with her. She didn’t care. 

“Absolutely not.” 

[evendimmer]

Which was very inconvenient for them, and for her too

I love that Agatha was like “you are so much like your mother, you guys have the same tell” and by that she means unconsciously shaping reality to their whim

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

A Day in the Life 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~1.1k

Summary: You and Wanda are targeted

A/N: Something short and sweet. This is NOT the secret third option prompt, I need more time for that one...I’m already at 12k though :)

Warnings: Injury, blood, death and fluff

You hadn’t ever really considered being attacked in broad daylight, especially not with Wanda by your side. You knew what she did for a living, and you understood the inherent risk associated with being seen with her. That said, you never truly considered how this could affect your everyday life beyond being a little more cautious about where you went in public and who you were with. You were a fairly trusting person, but Wanda had convinced you to be at least a little wary of all attention that came from strangers now that it was more well known that the two of you were together.

Most of the time when you and Wanda went out together, it was to places considered her territory. This meant little to you, but the important part was that Wanda said you were safe here. No one would retaliate against you here, or at least that’s what she claimed.

You hadn’t expected her to be proven wrong when the two of you were standing in line at a bakery. Your hand was firmly held in your girlfriend’s as you look at the menu. You had come here after lunch for dessert and you were accompanied by Wanda’s usual bodyguard and friend, Steve. His friend, Bucky, who you were sure was serving as your bodyguard, was accompanying you as well, and they both watched the entrances like a pair of intimidating hawks that were ready to swoop in when necessary. You’d learned to ignore their presence as guards and talk to them like the friends they were when it was acceptable. This was a good example, but you were distracted by food, and Wanda was distracted by you. You were always so adorable when it came to food.

You were about to order when it happened, and you truly didn’t see it coming. You’d been looking behind the counter, so you didn’t see the trio that came from the back. Wanda doesn’t notice them until she hears Bucky’s warning.

“Hey!”

She turns but by the time she sees the knife, she stiffens in anticipation. She doesn’t have time to reach for her gun or even react beyond cursing when she hears gunshots and she’s shoved out of the way. You push her out of the way, but you fall on top of her as the two of you crash to the floor. Wanda looks over your shoulder to see the two men get shot before they even get close, and then the third in front of her. He’d been inches from her, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to attack before he was stopped. She doesn’t realize that the knife he’s holding has blood on it until she’s on the ground beneath you.

“Fuck.”

You groan in pain as something sharp pierces your skin and sinks into your back. You had reacted without thinking and even with the pain you’re feeling you don’t regret it. When you heard Bucky speak up, knowing that he never does until you’re all alone, you knew something was about to happen. You did the only thing you could think of when you saw the movement through the display glass. You pushed Wanda out of the way.

You didn’t mean to fall on her, but you hadn’t expected to be stabbed in her place and it hurt like a bitch. You’re winded when you land on the ground and you can’t support yourself. You collapse but Wanda’s beside you grabbing your arms to keep you from faceplanting. She’s looking over you frantically for an injury, but she doesn’t see it until she looks to Bucky and Steve who are quickly closing in on them.

“Shit, detka.”

Wanda watches the dark red stain on your shirt continue to grow on your back from where you’d been cut. She starts to panic and tries to lift you off of her and get you on your feet, but she can’t make her body move. Her brain is screaming at her to help, but she can’t do anything but watch you bleed out until Steve’s voice sounds a couple of seconds later.

“Come on, Y/n. Let’s get you out of here.”

Wanda is quick to jump to her feet once you’re lifted off of her by the blonde. He makes it look effortless, but he’s careful not to jostle you too much. Despite this you hiss in pain and nearly fall back to the ground at the pain in your back. Wanda grabs your hands and pulls you along to the car to get you to the nearest hospital. Bucky’s already out the door on lookout and he opens the car door for them before pulling out his phone. He shoots Steve a look that he just nods at, and the brunette goes back inside to deal with the mess now that you’re on your way.

“Fuck, that hurt. I didn’t realize it would hurt so much.”

You’re breathing heavily as you try to get comfortable in the back seat next to Wanda as Steve gets in the driver’s seat and takes off. You reach out for the redhead with a questioning look that she just nods in response to. She’s looking you over frantically, prepared to agree to whatever you need until you speak up with a small smile.

"Did you get me a cookie?”

Wanda just looks at you incredulously for a moment before she takes off her jacket and reaches under the seat for the first aid kit. She grabs the necessary supplies before moving toward you just to stop you from bleeding any further on the seat.

“You’re ridiculous. You’re literally bleeding out, and you want a cookie?”

You can’t help the pained laugh that escapes you and you turn slightly so Wanda can get a better view of your wound. It’s still bleeding but it seems to have missed any major vessels because it’s only a slow stream at this point. You jump and curse when Wanda presses gauze with styptic powder to your cut with an apologetic look.

“You love me.”

Wanda can’t help but smile tearfully at you before she just nods in agreement. She leans in to kiss your cheek and then your lips when you turn to face her.

“Love you? I’m going to marry you someday.”

You hadn’t been expecting this response and your eyes widen, but you end up smiling as you throw out an arm to stop yourself from flying into the front seat when Steve takes a turn too quickly. You reach out to her with a smile before nodding in agreement. You’d want nothing more than to be able to call the woman across from you your wife.

“Whenever you want, Wands.”

Masterlist

[stinkrat-aleks]

The soccer fic. It’s updated. I did it, I fucking did it, hooray, yippee, et cetera

Read here

[marvelladiesdaily]

I can't feel you...

[caffeinefafnir]

Hanging on a thread with half the MCU and Chainsaw Man cast on the other end

[confusedhummingbird]

Comic Characters who need to always have curly hair:

[spidey-webz]

i can’t believe the marvel resurgence is happening because of a game but i am so here for it. i used to pray for times like these

[cy-chiin]

some lil keychain designs i made for an upcoming convention ! ^v^

super happy with how these guys came out,,,so squishable,,,

[616scarletvision]

THE VISION AND THE SCARLET WITCH.

art source → jacopo camagni, comic artist for scarlet witch (2024) on his instagram.