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florencebirdsong · 29 days ago

Text

:0 I wear wired earbuds (definitely not because I kept forgetting to charge wireless ones and gave up) Wanda should take me in real life

What if something happened to you?

The call is coming from inside of the hosue

and the only thing you can think about is how beautiful the woman is

YOURE BEING KIDNAPPED (I’d do the same thing)

She’s so asvhjhvchj I’d do anything for her. What a treat to be kidnapped by her

October 29 - Kidnapping

pairing: dom!Wanda x sub!Reader

summary: Wanda kidnaps you.

content warnings: kidnapping, possessiveness, stalking

word count: 1.6k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Truly, it was your own fault that you were in this situation. You hadn’t been paying attention, oblivious to the eyes watching you as you made your way home from your job.

In all honesty, you were the perfect target. You were beautiful and shy, not too sociable. You didn’t have many friends, and you spoke to your parents maybe three times a year. The homely routine of yours consisted of going to work, buying groceries, and spending time at home reading.

It was a quiet life, and you didn’t mind it.

Unfortunately, you’d caught the eye of a woman passing through town. Her boredom had become overwhelming, her need for a source of entertainment growing with each day. Well, it was more of a need for obsession, to focus on something that would utterly captivate her, and you were doing a fine job of that.

Wanda Maximoff, recently recovering (sort of) from destroying the darkhold and subsequently any hope of finding her children, had been aimlessly driving through town when she saw you.

God, you were perfect. You had a charming bookbag around your shoulder, with wired earbuds in as you walked. Wanda couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen someone with wired earbuds, or someone who read a book while walking. She was worried that you’d bump into something, but you navigated the main road easily, only glancing up every few seconds.

Your hair was pulled into a ponytail, the curls a day old as you hurried towards your destination. If Wanda had to guess, you were late to something, most likely a job. Your cheeks were flushed, but your eyes remained on your book, as if unable to tear yourself away from the words.

Suddenly, Wanda was overcome with the need to read that book. She wanted to know everything about you. What did you eat in the morning, did you thrift your sweater, how many people would look for you if you went missing?

The last question sent a thrill through Wanda, and she could feel a part of her clicking into place.

It was you.

You are what she needs. Only you can save her from this dangerous edge she was teetering on. With you in her possession, Wanda would finally find a purpose again. She wanted to make you fully hers, someone who would love her as much as she loved them.

It wasn’t that hard to book a dingy motel on the edge of town, and Wanda made sure that you never saw her as she followed you. She learned so much about you in two short weeks. You were almost always running late to something, your nose buried in a different book every few days. The only stores you frequented were the grocery store, the used book store, and an antique thrifting shop that had Wanda turning up her nose.

When you were hers, she would buy you the finest things. You wouldn’t need to shop at secondhand stores anymore. She could tell you weren’t struggling financially, but you weren’t living comfortably either. Your apartment was many blocks from the main road, with broken street lamps around it and an unkempt yard.

Wanda hated seeing you live in such a decrepit old place. What if something happened to you? Obviously, you didn’t see the lingering looks men and women alike would give you, but Wanda did. It had her fingers itch and her ears burn when she would watch them, your attention elsewhere as you hurried past them.

On Friday night, after watching you return home to read your book on the couch, surrounded by blankets and a mug of hot chocolate, Wanda decided that you were hers.

It was laughably easy to follow you in her car, the headlights off as you walked home late the next evening. You had a closing shift on the weekends, but you were blissfully ignorant of the dangers of the world, your earbuds firmly in place as you squinted at the words in your book.

All Wanda had to do was drive around the block and park her car under one of the many broken street lamps. You didn’t even hear her get out of her car, your attention fully captivated by the book.

She nearly reveals herself too soon, delirious at the thought of being near you. You pass by her, your perfume causing her knees to tremble and weaken slightly before she finds herself overcome with the need to possess you.

Wanda could have used a spell to capture you, but what's the fun in that? Besides, she really wanted to feel your squirming body against hers. She’s waited long enough.

“What the fu-” you manage to say, your book dropping from your hands as you feel someone clap a hand over your mouth. You can still hear your music playing through your earbuds, and you resist as one earbud drops out. A woman’s chuckle sounds out right next to your ear, and you feel your blood run cold.

Who the fuck laughs after grabbing someone? You hope it’s a joke, but the strength in the hands that haul you over to a red car is too much for you to pull away from. The scent of sickly sweet vanilla hits your nose, and you blink in confusion as you’re forced into the passenger seat of the car.

The woman is too quick for you, shoving you in and slamming the door before you have time to react. You can see her moving around the car, and dive for the driver's seat, your fingers scrabbling on the lock.

You’re too slow, and the woman gives you a withering stare as she sits in the driver’s seat and pulls the door firmly shut behind her. It’s the first time you’ve fully seen her face, and the only thing you can think about is how beautiful the woman is.

Honestly, she’s god-level ethereal.

Confusion fills you, your heart beating as you try to undo the lock on your side. Your fingers search the frame, but you find only a hole where the lock is supposed to be.

“You won’t be able to escape, dear,” the woman says, and you jump at the sound of her low voice. She sounds almost… friendly. What the fuck is going on?

Staring at her silently, you attempt to formulate a plan. It’s almost as if the woman can hear you thinking, because she smirks at you when you consider hitting her over the head with your bag.

“You and I both know that the only things you keep in that bag are a book and a sweater,” she says, her eyes full of mirth. They’re green, you notice, and then admonish yourself. “But go ahead at try, sweetheart.”

God, you wish she’d stop calling you pet names, it was confusing.

“My name is Wanda,” the woman says, her eyes gazing at you. The expression on her face is unnerving, and you remain silent, watching her as she easily turns onto the highway.

It’s late, and there are barely any other cars around. Some small part of you knows that you won’t be able to escape. Any attempt you make will be futile, so you just stare at her with wide eyes as your fingers nervously fiddle with your book bag.

What were you supposed to say?

“Typically,” Wanda begins, a soft smile on her face as one hand leaves the wheel. You watch it drift closer, fear and anticipation making their way through you. “When someone offers their name, you should offer yours in return.”

Her hand rests lightly on your thigh, and you feel revulsion fill you. Quickly, you push her hand off, pressing yourself against the door to get as far away from her as possible. Wanda’s green eyes snap to you, anger swirling in the depths as she grabs your thigh again, this time digging her fingers in.

“Do not ever reject me,” she says, her voice tight and low.

Something sparks in the air between you, and you can practically feel her anger as it fills the car. Nodding quickly, you blink as the suffocating anger disappears in an instant and an easy smile slips back on her face.

Those fingers start stroking your thigh, gentle and slow. You normally wouldn’t mind it if a pretty woman touched you like this, but you just… you just got fucking kidnapped.

Your breaths come short now, panic making its way through you as you stare out the front window. The woman seems oblivious to the rising emotions within you, her eyes locked on the road as she continues speaking.

“You’re going to love our house, darling.” Wanda smiles brightly at you. “It’s soundproof. And it has a dungeon, can you believe it?”

A choked whimper escapes you, and you remain silent. Wanda sends a sharp look your way, and you realize that she’s waiting for a response. You shake your head slowly.

“Use your words, sweetheart. I want to hear that pretty voice of yours.”

Pretty?

“Um,” you say quietly, unnerved by the level of attention you were receiving. “Okay?”

Wanda chuckles at that, and you press yourself as far away from her as possible. The door handle digs into your side, but you don’t care. You want out. You want out of this car with a creepy, gorgeous woman touching you and making you feel conflicted things, and you want to go back and finish your book.

“Don’t you understand, darling?” Wanda asks, looking at you with a dark look behind her eyes. Her voice and smile are soft, a direct contradiction to her next words.

“You are mine. You can never leave. I won’t let you.”

#The only difference between me and this reader in lifestyle is that I can’t thrift #(aus thrifting is not like us there’s maybe six clothing items at any given thrift store within an hour of me)#fic recs #wanda m.

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florencebirdsong · 4 months ago

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“Of course she wants to kiss you, you dumb lesbian!”

Ahdbdhjdjdjdnd

But also protective Nat is so 💞💞💞💞

50 Shades of Red || Chapter 5

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Wanda receives a gift and finishes her final exams, then decides to go out drinking to celebrate with her friends and accidentally makes a very awkward phone call.

content warnings: drinking, vision being a fucking creep, throwing up

word count: 4.2k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

The door squeaks as Wanda fumbles with her keys, stepping into her apartment and hoping that Kate wasn’t home. She can feel her face burning, her thoughts having been filled with the enigmatic woman that was Natasha Romanoff on the drive home. Her hands, so close to her waist yet not touching her. Her hair, falling over her shoulder as she leaned in to speak. Her lips, so soft and kissable and right fucking there. Her cinnamon perfume wafting over Wanda and making her dizzy with need-

“Hey, you’re home!” Kate calls out, and Wanda groans internally. “Tell me all about the date, don’t skimp on any details.”

Walking around the corner, Wanda sets her bag down as her eyes find Kate grinning at her from the couch. The brunette pats the spot beside her, her eyes lighting up as she takes in Wanda’s flushed face.

“Okay, fine…” Wanda starts with an air of faux reluctance as she sinks into the couch. She grins, and Kate giggles as she tells the story of her first date with Natasha Romanoff.

—

“Oh my god, Wanda. She totally wanted to kiss you.”

Wanda smiles, ducking her head. Her fingers trace a nonsensical pattern against the blanket thrown over both her and Kate’s lap. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just hoping she wants to and making things up in my head.”

Rolling her eyes, Kate surges forward and grabs Wanda by the shoulders.

“Of course she wants to kiss you, you dumb lesbian! Literally everything she’s been doing and saying has been to show you that she is interested in you, oh my god.” Her words are emphasized by the small shakes she delivers, Wanda’s body rocking back and forth from the force of it.

“Okay, fine,” Wanda says, a smile breaking across her face as she lets Kate’s words sink in.

“She likes you. She asked you out on a date and reassured you that it was an actual date multiple times. Also, she was totally going to kiss you. Natasha Romanoff wants you, I swear on my life.” Kate says, her voice serious.

Heat spreads across Wanda’s face, and she just smiles as she ducks her head. Kate doesn’t like her lack of response, and Wanda startles when she shakes her by the shoulders again, this time a bit more forcefully.

“You are quite literally the most beautiful woman I know, Wanda. Don’t roll your eyes at me, you’re the total package. Hot and cute at the same time, smooth skin that I would literally die for, and you’re really fucking nice. Like, I don’t think it’s even possible for you to ever be mean to somebody.” Kate rambles, her eyes wide and earnest. “Do not argue with me on this.”

“Fine,” Wanda chuckles, pushing away the thoughts of self-doubt that begin creeping into her mind. “She’s kind of out of my league though.”

“What, because of how much money she has?” Kate asks, scoffing. Wanda nods her head. Yes, exactly. Natasha Romanoff is powerful and rich and more gorgeous than a 22-year-old about to graduate college could ever hope to be.

“She’s richer than, like, 90 percent of America. That’s not something I’d compare, Wanda.”

“She’s-”

Kate doesn’t let Wanda finish her sentence, instead shoving her computer towards her. The screen glows brightly, a new email having recently popped up from Vision. Kate clicks on it, burrowing into Wanda’s side as they take in the edited photos from the photoshoot earlier that day.

God. Wanda didn’t need the reminder that Ms. Romanoff was practically a goddess among mortals. Her striking features stand out on the screen, her eyes piercing yet somehow warm, even through the lens of a camera. Or, maybe Wanda was just going insane and imagining things as her mind attempted to comprehend the photos.

Her features are perfect. Too perfect. Wanda finds herself flushing, her brain searing Ms. Romanoff’s face into her memory.

Why would someone that perfect go through the trouble of getting to know Wanda? Ms. Romanoff probably had hundreds of women waiting for a crumb of her attention, what made Wanda so special?

Nothing. She’d just made the unfortunate yet memorable first impression of tripping through a doorway.

That night, Wanda dreams of cold, green eyes that find her lacking.

—

“Wanda, there’s a package for you,” Kate calls out, her voice tired.

Closing her laptop, Wanda rolls her neck, feeling her tight muscles as she does so. She’s almost finished with finals, her last paper in the final stages of edits. Kate was grabbing her keys, uncaring of how she looked in sweatpants and a hoodie as she headed over to campus to take her last exam.

“I’ll grab it in a minute, thank you,” Wanda shouts, hearing the door close after Kate yells a quick goodbye. Standing, she stretches as she walks towards the front door, her eyes bleary and mind focused on the numerous edits she needed to finish.

A brown Amazon box waits for her on the counter, the packing slip offering no return address. Wanda blinks, her eyebrows furrowing. Interesting, considering she couldn’t remember ordering anything.

The kitchen scissors easily cut through the tape, and Wanda considers putting on the kettle as she notices the new box of green tea Kate had picked up earlier. She could definitely use some caffeine. Her eyes return to the box, catching a glimpse of what seemed to be a book.

Suddenly wide awake, Wanda hurriedly opened the box, her eyes widening as she took in the contents.

The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson lays innocently inside the box, the ornate cover catching Wanda’s eye as she sinks into a chair. Gingerly picking it up, Wanda flips it open slightly, the smell of old paper hitting her nose as she softly thumbs through the pages.

There, a publication date. The numbers stare up at her, and Wanda resists the urge to scream as she realizes that this book is a first edition. A genuine, authentic first edition.

Only one person could have sent this, and Wanda gently sets the book on the counter while she digs through the box until she finds a note. The neat handwriting mocks her, the only thing written on the card is the flowing script of Natasha Romanoff’s name.

Goddammit.

She can’t accept the book. Google tells her how much a first edition is worth, the number sending Wanda’s head reeling as she throws a glance towards the book innocently lying on her kitchen counter. She’s never even possessed that much money in her life, and now a book worth literally thousands is in her apartment. As a fucking gift.

Wanda needs a drink. A strong one.

—

Glasses clink as Wanda takes a large swig of her dirty Shirley. As much as Kate makes fun of her, she truly hasn’t found another drink that she likes quite as much. Something about the sweet flavor and distinctive red coloring with a cherry on top just brings her indescribable joy. She hasn’t found another drink that meets her expectations, and she grimaces as Kate chugs a beer while cheers ring out around her.

“I can’t believe the semester is finally over, we’re officially real adults!” Kate exclaims, her words only slightly slurred as she gestures widely with her arms. A cheer sounds out again, the bar packed with graduating seniors celebrating the end of their college careers.

Wanda smiles, drinking slightly faster. She hadn’t partied in a while, the stress of finals having consumed her for the past few months. Now that her final grades were in and she would be walking the stage next weekend, she let herself drink and relax. She deserved it.

“To the end of exams and homework,” Wanda says, holding her glass out.

Laughing, Kate echoes her words and clinks her glass against Wanda’s. Paul clinks his glass of Diet Dr. Pepper against hers and claps Vision on the shoulder when the blonde sways in his seat as he cheers.

Vision doesn’t graduate for another year, but having Paul as a roommate meant going out with him whenever he asked. Wanda didn’t mind too much, since having another person in their group meant less money she had to pay when the bill came around. Besides, even though Vision had an obvious crush on her, he hadn’t yet found the courage to ask her out. Wanda hoped he never found the courage.

“I’m going to smoke,” Wanda yells, her voice barely carrying over the loud music. Kate nods at her, spilling some of her beer on the table as she attempts to gesture with her hands. A goofy smile spreads across her face, and Wanda chuckles at the sight of her roommate attempting to clean her mess with the paper-thin napkins the local dive bar provides.

Walking towards the exit, Wanda focuses on not stumbling as she pulls her pack of cigarettes from her pocket, fumbling with the lighter as she steps out into the small patio the bar offers. A few other smokers are out, one girl slumped over the bush as her friend holds her hair back and rubs her back.

Lighting her cigarette, Wanda takes a deep breath and sighs contentedly as the smoke hits the back of her throat. Leaning back against the brick wall, she looks up at the night sky with bleary eyes.

Pulling out her phone, Wanda glances at the numbers. Her thumb scrolls, the names in her contact list blending together as she takes in another breath full of smoke. Ah, there. She stops scrolling, her thumb hovering over a new contact.

Natasha Romanoff.

Fuck it. Wanda’s thumb presses on the number next to her name, the action barely registering in her mind as she leans harder against the side of the building. Her fingers loosely hold her cigarette as she flicks some ash onto the ground.

She answers on the second ring.

“Wanda?” Her voice has a hint of surprise, and Wanda giggles. Honestly, she’s surprised that she had the guts to call, but she wasn’t much in control of her own actions after a few drinks. Then, a thought hits her. How does Ms. Romanoff know it’s her?

“Why did you send me the book,” Wanda says, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth. She brings the cigarette to her mouth, listening for a response as she takes a deep breath.

“Wanda, are you alright? You sound different.” Ms. Romanoff’s voice is laced with concern, and Wanda just raises an eyebrow. Not that the other woman can see it.

“I’m not different,” Wanda retorts, her mouth spewing words before she can think about them. “You’re the one who’s different. All mysterious and reclusive, ooooh.”

There’s silence for a beat, and Wanda takes another drag of her cigarette. One of the other smokers drops his used cigarette on the ground, crushing it beneath his heel before pulling out another one. Wanda does the same, fumbling in her pockets for another. Then, Ms. Romanoff’s voice sounds out through the speaker, firmer this time.

“Have you been drinking, Wanda?”

“Maybe, why do you care?”

“I’m just curious,” Ms. Romanoff says, and Wanda hears fumbling on the other side of the line. “Where are you?”

“I’m at a bar, it’s not suitable for you.”

“Not suitable?” Ms. Romanoff’s voice sounds slightly strained. “Which bar, Wanda.”

“A college bar.”

The woman changes tactics, and Wanda hears more fumbling through the phone. It sounds like the woman is getting dressed, and she’s immediately greeted with thoughts of what Ms. Romanoff might wear in bed. Hopefully nothing.

“How are you getting home?”

“I don’t know,” Wanda can hear her words slurring. “I’ll figure it out.”

“I’m only going to ask this one more time, Wanda. Which bar are you at?”

Sighing, Wanda lights her second cigarette. Letting the silence drag on for a moment, she smiles at the huff of breath she hears through her speaker. “Why did you send me the book, Natasha?”

“Wanda, tell me where you are. Now.”

Giggling, Wanda remembers how much of a control freak Ms. Romanoff is. The image of the woman wearing a latex bodysuit with a corset and a riding crop flashes through her mind, and Wanda can’t help but laugh at the absurdity.

“God, you’re so… dominant.”

“I swear to God,” Ms. Romanoff trails off, and Wanda smiles at the exasperation in her voice. “Where the fuck are you?”

“Oh, Ms. Romanoff. So naughty, using bad words like that.” Wanda feels her head dropping as she says the words, the contents of her last drink finally working their way into her system. Fuck, she’s lost her cigarette somehow. Her fingers fumble around in her pocket, drawing another one from the pack and lighting it.

“Wanda, so help me-”

“Goodnight!” Wanda calls out, sucking in a large breath and admiring the smoke that she exhales into the cool night air as she hangs up the phone. Then, she frowns. She never got an answer about the book. Oh well, the only objective she had tonight was to get drunk… and she had successfully accomplished that mission. Her vision swam, and Wanda took the last few puffs of her cigarette before crushing it on the ground.

Fuck. Did she really just call Natasha Romanoff? Who does that?

The phone rings, and Wanda answers it without looking at the caller ID. Only one person would be calling her right now, and she hates the way her voice sounds as she utters a meek ‘hello’.

“I’m on my way, don’t leave the bar.” Ms. Romanoff says, and Wanda feels herself blushing at the commanding tone as the woman hangs up.

Wait.

An ice-cold awareness makes its way through Wanda’s veins. She feels herself sobering up, and blinks blearily as she remembers the phone call. Fuck, is Ms. Romanoff actually on her way? Did she really just talk back to the woman over the phone?

It was the alcohol, Wanda decides. All the blame is on the alcohol… and now that she’s sobering up, she should definitely take another shot. She walks back into the bar, ordering a shot of fireball and telling herself that it’s not because the smell and taste remind her of Ms. Romanoff’s cinnamon perfume.

“You’ve been gone for a while,” Kate says, slinging an arm around Wanda’s shoulder when she returns to the table. “Where were you?”

“I was smoking,” Wanda says, and her roommate doesn’t argue, instead cheering when Wanda knocks back the fireball in one smooth motion.

“So what now?” Paul asks, his cheeks flushed from the humid air of the bar. His hair is sticking to his forehead, and Wanda is suddenly acutely aware of just how stifling the air is. She can feel her shirt sticking to her skin, and suddenly feels as though the room is too small for her.

Wanda manages to mutter something about fresh air before she pushes herself onto unsteady feet and makes her way towards the exit. She can feel the beat of the music thumping through the floor, and breathes a sigh of relief as the heavy door closes behind her, muffling the sound slightly.

The parking lot is blurry, and no matter how many times Wanda blinks, she can’t seem to focus her eyes. The ground seems unsteady, and she leans against the wall as she gratefully sucks in the cool night air.

“Hey.”

Fuck.

Wanda turns, a half-smile plastered on her face as she takes in the figure of Vision next to her. She can feel it turning into a grimace, and decides to look down at the moving concrete instead of his face. Ah, bad choice. Now she’s nauseous.

“Are you alright?”

“I just think I’ve had a bit too much to drink,” Wanda says, her smile dropping further when Vision steps closer to lean against the wall next to her.

“So have I,” Vision says, and Wanda gets the sense that he meant for the words to sound suave, but instead they’re slightly slurred and his eyes are glazed and his hair is all mussed and out of place and all Wanda can see is his stupid face leaning closer and closer and-

Ducking her head to avoid his lips, Wanda pushes him away firmly, her palm connecting solidly with his chest. “I’m okay, Vision. I just needed some space and fresh air.”

“Wanda,” he says, leaning closer and placing his hands on either side of her head, his body almost pressed against hers. “Please.”

“I’m a lesbian,” Wanda hates how soft her voice is and how weak her hands are as she tries to push him off her. “I’m sorry Vision, but I don’t like you that way.”

“I like you so much,” he says, and Wanda wants to bleach her nostrils as she catches a whiff of his cologne.

Her hands are more forceful now, pushing against his chest as he stumbles back slightly. It has barely any effect, his wide blue eyes locked on hers. Wanda tries again, her voice panicked as he leans in again. “Vision, no. Stop it.”

Wanda closes her eyes, feeling Vision's body press against her as he ducks his head. She can feel his boner pressing against her pelvis, and feels bile rise when he sloppily trails his lips against her jaw. Everything feels wrong, and Wanda’s head is spinning and she feels like she’s suffocating and drowning in cheap cologne as her brain goes into overdrive, her body freezing as Vision’s hands start running over her shoulders and down towards her-

Cold air hits her face, and Wanda sucks in a deep breath of fresh air as Vision’s presence is ripped away from her. Her eyes fly open, meeting furious dark green irises for a moment before Ms. Romanoff starts backing Vision up against the wall.

“She said no.”

Holy fuck. Ms. Romanoff’s voice is ice cold, and Vision’s eyes go wide as he begins to stutter and attempt to explain. The woman is having none of it, and silently points towards the door of the bar, her face stony and posture tense. Taking the hint, Vision quickly mutters an apology in Wanda’s direction before scurrying back inside.

“Holy shit.”

“Language,” Ms. Romanoff says, her eyes softening as she slowly walks towards Wanda. She makes it three steps before Wanda’s stomach decides it’s had enough excitement for the night.

Her throat burns as bile rises. Wanda turns towards the bushes, expelling the contents of her stomach as she feels a firm hand pull her hair away from her face while Ms. Romanoff gently rubs her upper back. She doesn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed, and decides to never drink again. Her body heaves one last time, before Wanda sucks in a breath and coughs, her throat feeling scratchy.

“Would you like some gum?”

“Please,” Wanda says, pushing away her embarrassment as she accepts. She pops the gum in her mouth, snorting at the cinnamon taste. Of course Ms. Romanoff would chew cinnamon gum, it seemed to be her signature thing.

Leaning her forehead against the cool stone of the wall, Wanda feels her stomach settle slightly as her mind clears momentarily. Panic worms its way into her chest. What was Ms. Romanoff doing here? At this bar? Actually…

“How did you know I was here?”

“I tracked your phone.” There isn’t a trace of humor in Ms. Romanoff’s voice, and Wanda just accepts the answer. Of course a multi-millionaire would have the capabilities to track phones. Glancing over, Wanda takes in the strong silhouette of the woman. It’s intimidating, but leaves a certain warmth coiling in Wanda’s stomach.

“Ah, well. I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

Standing up fully, Wanda lets her eyes roam over Ms. Romanoff’s figure. She blinks, taking in the soft fabric of an expensive-looking hoodie. The woman must have been relaxing at home, before receiving a phone call from a very drunk college student.

“For the phone call and the…” Wanda gestures towards the bushes, and is rewarded with an amused smirk.

“It happens.” Ms. Romanoff seems to brush off the apology, her eyes intense as they lock on Wanda’s. “It’s all about knowing your limits, dear. And as much as I enjoy pushing limits, it’s quite dangerous to go too far with drinking, do you understand?”

A tendril of irritation rises within Wanda, but then she hiccups and remembers how much of a drunk fool she’d just made of herself. The reprimand was well deserved, but that didn’t mean Wanda had to like it. Some part of her was vehemently against being told what to do, or being spoken to like a child.

“I don’t drink like this often, but we’re celebrating our graduation.” Wanda can’t help the edge in her voice, and judging by Ms. Romanoff’s single, raised eyebrow, the woman doesn’t approve.

Scowling slightly, Wanda attempts to push off the wall with the intention of escaping the weighted look the older woman is pinning her with. She still doesn’t understand why Ms. Romanoff cares, or why she drove to a bar late at night. Her head spins, and Wanda stumbles right into the CEO’s arms as her vision goes slightly fuzzy.

The warmth of Ms. Romanoff’s body pressed against hers and the weight of her arms around Wanda’s shoulders is only making her more dizzy.

“I’m taking you home,” she says, with an air of finality.

Wanda just nods, her head beginning to pound as her stomach twists. Her thoughts seem scrambled, the main thing on the forefront of her mind was how good Ms. Romanoff smelled, and how much she liked the closeness of the woman, and how soft her hair was-

“I need to tell Kate.”

“Tell her what?”

“That you’re here and that I-” Wanda hiccups again, and pretends not to notice the small, endearing smile that graces Ms. Romanoff’s lips. “I’m going home. She’ll worry if I leave without saying anything.”

“My sister is already inside,” Ms. Romanoff says, her voice gentle.

“What?”

“My sister, Yelena,” she explains, her voice low and words clear. Wanda would pout about the tone, but her head is far too scrambled to care. “She’s inside speaking with your roommate. She was with me when you called.”

Pushing away the embarrassment that rises at the thought of Ms. Romanoff’s sister hearing her drunken phone call, Wanda manages to look the woman in the eye. She feels the tips of her ears burning as she flushes under the intense look she receives, but manages to speak, her words only slightly slurred.

“I want to tell her myself, she’ll worry otherwise.”

“Fine, do you need help?”

Wanda wants to say no. But, she can barely see straight, let alone walk. So, she nods and allows Ms. Romanoff’s arm to wrap around her waist. It’s not that bad, the woman’s muscles flexing against her as she holds her up, her fingers digging slightly into Wanda’s hip. It makes Wanda want more of her touch, and she immediately shakes her head to clear it of those thoughts.

Horny thoughts and a drunk brain never mix well.

The humid, stale air of the bar hits her as Ms. Romanoff opens the door. Wanda immediately wants to go back outside, into the fresh air and the tension and the comfort of the other woman’s presence. Instead, she walks on unsteady legs with the sexiest woman alive holding up half her weight.

“Kate!”

“Oh my god, Wanda are you okay?”

Sitting down, Wanda leans in towards her roommate’s ear, ignoring the wide-eyed look the brunette is giving Ms. Romanoff. Her eyes are glancing between the CEO and the muscular blonde woman, who Wanda assumes is Yelena, as they speak to each other quickly in Russian.

Vision is nowhere to be found, and Wanda smiles.

“Uh, ‘m gonna… gonna go. Home! Going home, with a hot woman,” Wanda says, breaking out into giggles. Kate smiles at her, putting an arm around her shoulder as she attempts to focus. After all, Kate was almost as equally fucked up and wasted as Wanda was at this point in the night, it was her graduation too.

“I think I’m gonna go home with her sister, have you seen her muscles?”

“You know I… only have uh, only have eyes for,” Wanda hiccups again. “Only for Ms. Romanoff.”

“Aww, you useless lesbian.”

Wanda lightly shoves her, reminding Kate to check the Life360 in the morning to make sure she isn’t in a ditch somewhere before she stands. Ah, wrong move.

Swaying, Wanda reaches out her hands in the general direction of Ms. Romanoff. Strong hands catch her by the shoulders, the scent of cinnamon wafting over her and wrapping her in a tight embrace. Wanda catches a glimpse of red hair, and feels a water bottle pressed into her hands with the stern command to sip slowly. She barely registers the walk outside, pausing to light a cigarette as she leans against a large car.

“Is this a bad habit of yours?”

“Only when I’m drunk,” Wanda responds, her mind hazy and eyes blurry. The smoke hits the back of her throat, and she closes her eyes as the world spins. The rumble of an engine reaches her ears, and she feels herself leaning forward.

And then she doesn’t stop. She just keeps falling and falling and there are strong arms and a soft voice and the most beautiful eyes she’s ever seen and a long road and bright lights and soft blankets and gentle hands wiping off her makeup and and and-

“Goodnight, Wanda.”

---

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