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atlasthegreatest · 7 months ago

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Breaking the Chains / Natasha Romanoff x Brother!Male Reader

Which, the Avengers embark on a mission to dismantle a sinister facility—a male version of the Red Room, designed to turn young men into weapons. Natasha Romanoff leads the charge, determined to save her younger brother— Y/n, who has been trapped in this program for years.

Word count: 2191

Warnings: PTSD. Red Room.

A/n: This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it!

The facility was crumbling around them, fire and dust mixing into the heavy air. The sounds of gunfire and explosions echoed in the background, but Natasha Romanoff’s focus was singular. Her feet moved with purpose as she scanned the darkened hallway. She knew what to look for—the same signs she once wore on her face and carried in her posture.

In this mission, the Avengers were not after weapons or secrets. They were after people—boys who had been subjected to something eerily familiar to Natasha. A male counterpart to the Red Room, hidden deep in the underbelly of the world. They had lived in the shadows for years, unnoticed, until an intercepted transmission tipped the Avengers off to the existence of this twisted program.

She pushed through the shattered remnants of a metal door and stepped into a cold, dimly lit cell block. A dozen pairs of frightened eyes met hers, boys barely in their teens and men no older than twenty-five.

Natasha scanned each face until she found the one she had been looking for: Y/n.

He sat huddled in the far corner of the cell, knees drawn to his chest, body folded in on itself as if trying to disappear into the cracked concrete wall behind him. His clothes hung loosely from his thin frame, and his hands trembled as they gripped his knees.

“Hey,” Natasha whispered, kneeling in front of him.

At first, Y/n didn’t respond. The years of training had taught him to suppress everything—fear, trust, and hope. But when he finally lifted his gaze, recognition flickered in his eyes. Y/n knew her, though not personally. She had been the ghost story among the instructors. The Black Widow—traitor to the cause, the one who escaped.

“I’ve got you,” Natasha said gently, her gloved hand hovering over Y/n's but not touching, waiting for him to make the first move. “We’re getting you out of here.”

Y/n flinched slightly at the sound of her voice but didn’t pull away when she rested a hand lightly on his arm. Her touch was steady—grounding.

“It’s over,” she said, her voice low and sure, like an unbreakable promise. “No more orders. No more missions.”

Y/n's lips parted, but no words came out. It was hard to believe it was real after everything. Freedom was a foreign concept, a dream too fragile to trust. But Natasha didn’t rush him. She crouched there, keeping her voice steady and calm as the chaos raged behind her.

“I know it’s scary,” she admitted. “But you’re not alone anymore. I’m here, and so are the others.”

When he didn’t resist, Natasha helped him to his feet. Y/n was shaky, each step slow, as if his body had forgotten what it was like to move without orders directing his every action. Natasha kept a careful hold on her arm—not tight, just enough to remind him she was there.

Together, they made their way through the collapsing facility, the flickering lights casting erratic shadows on the walls. Outside, the Avengers had cleared the area, and a Quinjet waited, its ramp lowered. Steve Rogers gave a tight nod to Natasha as she guided Y/n aboard, but the others knew better than to approach.

Natasha’s expression warned them all: Give him space.

————————-

The Avengers’ compound was vast, bright, and open—everything the cold, sterile facility had not been. But for Y/n, it was too much. Too big, too noisy, too unfamiliar.

Y/n rarely left the room they had set up for him, and when he did, it was always with Natasha at his side. The others tried to welcome him gently—Bruce offered books, Steve always nodded with quiet reassurance, and even Tony kept his quips subdued. But it was Natasha who knew how to reach him, because she had been where he was.

She didn’t push. When the others asked too many questions, Natasha would step in, redirecting the conversation with a subtle ease. She became Y/n's anchor, a quiet, constant presence that didn’t demand anything from him.

At night, when the nightmares came—and they always did—Natasha was there. The first time Y/n woke up gasping, covered in cold sweat, he thought she might be angry at being disturbed. But instead, she sat on the edge of his bed, her voice calm and low.

“Breathe,” she whispered. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

When Y/n couldn’t sleep, she stayed up with him. Some nights, she talked about her own past, sharing bits and pieces she thought he might understand. Other nights, the two of them sat in silence, watching the night bleed into dawn.

She never asked him to talk about what happened—not until Y/n was ready.

————————-

It was weeks before Y/n said more than a few words at a time. The trauma ran deep, and trust was a hard-earned currency. But Natasha noticed the small changes. The way he started sitting with the others in the common room, though he always kept a little distance. The way his gaze softened when Sam told a joke or when Clint teased him about beating him at chess.

One afternoon, while sitting with Natasha on the balcony, Y/n surprised himself by speaking.

“They made us fight each other,” He said quietly, his voice brittle and uneven. “If you won, you got food. If you lost… you didn’t.”

Natasha didn’t flinch. She just nodded, her gaze steady. “I know.”

“They told us it made us stronger,” he added, bitterness creeping into his tone. “Made us perfect.”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line. “They were wrong.”

For a moment, Y/n looked out over the horizon, the sky painted in hues of gold and pink. He felt the weight of her words settle in his chest—not just the words, but the way she said them, with the conviction of someone who knew exactly what he’d been through.

“You’re not what they made you,” Natasha said softly. “You’re more than that.”

Y/n swallowed hard, emotions swelling in his throat, but for the first time in years, he didn’t feel the need to shove them down. Natasha’s presence was a reminder that he didn’t have to carry everything alone.

————————-

Day by day, the Avengers helped Y/n find pieces of himself that he thought had been lost forever. Steve taught him how to cook—simple things, like pancakes and scrambled eggs. Sam dragged him into a movie marathon, making Y/n laugh for the first time in what felt like forever.

And Natasha? Natasha stayed by his side through all of it, giving him the space to heal at his own pace.

One evening, after a quiet dinner with the team, Y/n found yourself sitting beside Natasha on the couch, Clint sprawled out on the floor in front of them.

“See?” Natasha said, nudging Y/n's shoulder lightly. “They’re not so bad.”

Y/n gave a small, tentative smile. It felt strange on his face, but not unwelcome.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice soft but genuine. “They’re not.”

Natasha smiled too—gentle, patient, and proud. And for the first time in a long time, Y/n felt like maybe, just maybe, he belonged.

————————-

The Avengers became a rhythm—steady, sometimes chaotic, but reliable. Y/n was still learning how to navigate the whirl of personalities and noise, but Natasha was always a steady guide. She seemed to know exactly when to push and when to pull back, letting him stumble without ever letting him fall.

The nightmares didn’t stop, but Y/n got better at managing them. On nights when the darkness crept too close, he didn’t feel ashamed to knock softly on Natasha’s door. Sometimes, the two of them talked. Other times, Y/n sat quietly on the floor beside her bed until sleep returned. It didn’t matter—Natasha was patient, always patient.

But adjusting to life with the Avengers was harder than it looked from the outside. Even though they gave him space, their camaraderie felt foreign. Trusting them—really trusting them—was an uphill battle, but Natasha reassured him that it was okay to take his time.

“You don’t have to be anyone other than yourself,” she had said. “They’ll wait.”

————————-

It was Sam who cracked Y/n's defenses first, though it took him weeks of gentle persistence. He had a way of being both laid-back and direct, not giving him much room to overthink. One afternoon, Y/n found himself sitting across from him at the compound’s kitchen island, awkwardly holding a controller as he taught Y/n how to play some old-school racing game.

“Don’t worry,” Sam grinned. “I’ll go easy on you.”

He didn’t. Y/n lost every race, but he didn’t mind. For once, losing didn’t come with consequences. Sam’s laugh was loud and infectious, and before Y/n realized it, he found himself chuckling along.

“See?” Sam said, nudging his shoulder lightly. “You’ve got a sense of humor in there somewhere.”

It was a small moment, but it was the first time Y/n’d felt… normal.

————————-

Training sessions with Steve Rogers were a different kind of therapy. He never barked orders or pushed Y/n beyond his limits. Instead, he treated each session like a lesson in self-control—teaching him to use his skills in ways that didn’t make him feel like a weapon.

“Strength is more than just force,” Steve would say. “It’s about knowing when not to fight.”

At first, it was hard to fight the reflex to be perfect, to push through every ache and bruise just to meet some invisible standard. But Steve never expected perfection. If Y/n faltered, he’d just nod and say, “Good. Now let’s try that again.”

One day, after a sparring match, Y/n hesitated as Steve packed up the training mats. “Thanks,” he muttered, the word feeling foreign but genuine.

Steve gave him that easy, reassuring smile of his. “Anytime.”

————————-

It was during one of Tony’s infamous pizza nights that Y/n realized how far he’d come. The team gathered in the common room, laughing and teasing each other over slices of greasy pepperoni. Y/n sat between Natasha and Clint, feeling oddly at ease even though he hadn’t said much all night.

At some point, Tony tried to rope him into a debate about who the best James Bond was. Y/n blinked, unsure if he was joking or not.

“C’mon, kid,” Tony said, grinning. “Tell me you’ve got an opinion on this. You have to.”

Before he could answer, Natasha smirked. “He’s still deciding if he likes any of us, Stark. Don’t scare him off with your movie rants.”

The team burst out laughing, and to Y/n's surprise, he found himself grinning too. Not because he had to, but because it felt right.

Natasha glanced at her brother from the corner of her eye, her expression soft and knowing. She didn’t say anything, but her small smile told him she was proud—and she realized he was too.

Bonus chapter:

Not every day was easy. Some mornings, the weight of the past dragged Y/n down like lead in his chest. Y/n still flinched at unexpected noises. Some nights, the nightmares left him breathless and paralyzed. But with Natasha, it didn’t feel like he had to face it alone.

One particularly bad night, Y/n couldn’t keep it all bottled up anymore. It was late—well past midnight—when the panic took over. Y/n found himself in Natasha’s room, pacing back and forth as he tried to control his breathing.

“They made us hurt each other,” he whispered, the words tumbling out faster than he could stop them. “Every day, every mission. If you hesitated, they punished you. They—”

Y/n's voice cracked, and he clenched his fists, furious at himself for breaking down. But Natasha didn’t look at Y/n with pity. She stepped closer, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

“They wanted you to believe it was the only way,” Natasha said softly. “But it’s not.”

The anger, the shame, the guilt—it all poured out in a rush, and Natasha let him feel every bit of it without judgment. When Y/n finally sank to the floor, exhausted and drained, she sat beside him.

“You’re not what they made you,” she repeated gently. “And you’re not alone.”

————————-

Months passed, and slowly, Y/n found himself carving out a place among the Avengers. It wasn’t perfect—he still had hard days, and some wounds ran too deep to ever fully heal. But he was learning that it was okay to not be okay all the time.

Natasha stayed close, always ready to catch him if he stumbled. But she also gave him room to grow. Y/n started spending more time with the others—training with Steve, playing video games with Sam, and even laughing at Tony’s terrible jokes. They weren’t just teammates anymore. They were friends.

And one day, as the team gathered for another chaotic dinner, Y/n realized something that hit him harder than any punch he’d ever taken: he wasn’t just surviving. He was living.

The thought was strange, almost surreal, but when Natasha met his gaze across the table and gave him a subtle, knowing nod, Y/n knew it was real.

He was home.

Any grammar mistakes will be fixed later

#mcu #natasha romanoff x reader #male reader #sibling angst #steve rogers #tony stark #clint barton #thor odinson #bruce banner #wanda maximoff

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delulu-with-wandanat · 2 years ago

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Natasha’s 15 year old shameless sibling has a crush on her girlfriend, Wanda.

Wanda: I’m 30 and I'm literally dating your sister-

Y/n, with a squeaky voice: You’RE 30?!

Wanda: Ya…

Y/n:

Y/n: Its okayy, no one has to know bb gworl…

Wanda: DOOONTT-

Natasha: DONT call her bby girl! She’s not your fuckin Spanish teacher-

Y/n: Hola- Hola como estas.

#source: tiktok #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha #wanda x natasha #wlw #wanda #incorrect wandanat #incorrect quotes #natasha x brother!reader #natasha x sister!reader #natasha x sibling!reader #natasha x wanda #wantasha #moffnoff #wandanat x platonic!reader #wandanat crack

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ilovemarvel97 · 1 month ago

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Craving What We Shouldn’t

Wanda Maximoff x G!P Reader

Summary: Senior year. What could happen? School troubles? Suspended? Or becoming step-sisters with the girl you are in love with?

Word Count: 3,617

Warnings: High school AU, Angst, forbidden romance, step-siblings, reader has a penis, mutual pining, secret relationship, emotionally charged.

A/N: I just wondered how step-siblings would be if they fall in love before becoming siblings. Please do not interact if you don't like the topic.

Main Masterlist

---

The last place Y/N wanted to be on the first day of senior year was standing in front of a brand new front door with a suitcase and a forced smile. Her mom had been glowing with happiness ever since she married Oleg Maximoff over the summer. A second chance at love, she called it.

For Y/N, it felt like a cruel twist of fate.

Because on the other side of that door was Wanda Maximoff. The girl who stole her heart during junior year. The girl who kissed her once at a party before summer and never talked about it again. The girl who used to sneak glances at her across the library table, who blushed when their hands brushed.

Now they shared a house. A bathroom. A last name.

And none of it changed how Y/N felt.

“Come on,” her mom said with a light laugh, nudging her shoulder. “You’ll love it. Wanda’s been asking when you'd arrive.”

That made Y/N’s stomach tighten.

She stepped into the house. The air smelled like rosemary and floor polish. A few family photos had already gone up on the walls—her mom with Oleg, Wanda with Pietro, one of all of them awkwardly posed at the wedding.

Then—“Hey.”

Y/N froze. Her head turned slowly toward the stairs.

Wanda stood halfway down, her red hair pulled into a lazy ponytail, a soft sweater hanging off her shoulder. Barefoot. No makeup. Just her. And she was looking at Y/N like nothing had changed.

Like everything had changed.

“Hi,” Y/N said, her voice caught somewhere between casual and breathless.

They stared at each other. Too long for step-sisters. Too long for ex-almost-somethings. Just long enough for the air to thicken.

Wanda broke the moment with a quick smile. “Your room’s next to mine.”

“Of course it is,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

That night, lying in bed with the walls too thin and Wanda’s music playing faintly through them, Y/N stared at the ceiling.

She’d spent months trying to forget her.

Now she was going to see her every morning. Every night. Every hallway at school.

She couldn’t want her anymore.

She already did.

---

Y/N didn’t even make it through her first morning coffee before things got awkward.

She stepped into the kitchen still half-asleep, only to find Wanda already there in her cheer uniform—leaning against the counter, sipping orange juice, acting like nothing was wrong. Like she hadn’t once kissed Y/N in the hallway after finals. Like she hadn’t ghosted her all summer. Like they hadn’t suddenly become family.

“Want toast?” Wanda asked without looking up.

Y/N grabbed the mug waiting for her on the table. “I’ll live.”

Wanda glanced at her then. Briefly. But long enough.

There it was again. That electric pull. That heat just beneath the surface.

Y/N took a long sip of coffee to distract herself. She didn’t look at Wanda again.

---

At school, nothing had changed—and everything had.

Wanda slipped into her role like a second skin: queen bee of the cheer squad, top of her AP classes, adored by teachers and untouchable by everyone else. She walked the hall like she owned it. Beside her were Monica and Pepper, as always. Pietro waved from across the lockers, grinning at both of them.

Y/N moved differently. Not a loser, not a nerd—just a little outside the lines. She wore her usual cargo pants and hoodie, skateboard slung through the strap of her bag, earbuds in, always just out of reach.

Except now people were talking.

“Didn’t you hear?” someone whispered by the lockers. “Maximoff’s got a new stepsister.”

“She’s kind of hot, right?”

“Wait—is that the girl who punched Steve Rogers sophomore year?”

“No way. I thought she was expelled for that.”

Y/N smirked. She wasn’t. She just hated how Steve talked to Bruce that day.

But the whispers didn’t stop when she passed Wanda in the hallway.

If anything, they got worse.

“Do you think they knew each other before the wedding?”

Wanda’s eyes flickered to her. Brief. Loaded. But she didn’t say anything. She just laughed along with her friends, like nothing was wrong.

Y/N looked away.

---

Lunch was the worst part.

She’d barely sat down at her usual table—Nat, Carol, and Clint already mid-convo about the upcoming school trip—when a tray slammed down across from her.

Wanda.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked, half-whispered, half-panicked.

“Eating,” Wanda said coolly. “We live together now, remember?”

Nat raised an eyebrow. Carol looked like she smelled drama. Clint was just frozen mid-chew.

Wanda took a bite of her apple and looked right at Y/N when she said it:

“Besides… family should sit together.”

Y/N choked on her drink.

Nat reached over and thumped her back with a smirk. “You alright there?”

Y/N nodded, eyes burning.

Wanda smiled sweetly. Too sweetly. Like she knew exactly what she was doing.

Y/N hated her for that.

And wanted her anyway.

---

Y/N found her in the hallway after seventh period.

Wanda had just slipped out of AP Lit, a stack of books in her arms and her signature bored-but-beautiful expression on. The hallway was nearly empty—just the occasional echo of locker doors slamming and chatter from other classrooms.

Y/N caught up fast. Too fast.

“Hey,” she said, grabbing Wanda’s arm gently. “We need to talk.”

Wanda didn’t flinch. “We’re talking.”

“Not here,” Y/N hissed. “Come on.”

Wanda rolled her eyes but followed, heels clicking as Y/N led her around the corner to the empty back stairwell. The one nobody used anymore except for cutting class or making out. Fitting.

Y/N dropped her bag and crossed her arms. “What the hell was that at lunch?”

Wanda leaned against the railing like she wasn’t cornered. Like this was a game. “Lunch?”

Y/N stepped closer. “Don’t play dumb. Sitting with me. Calling me family in front of *everyone*.”

Wanda shrugged. “That’s what we are now, aren’t we? You and me. One big happy—”

“Don’t,” Y/N cut in, voice low and sharp. “Don’t pretend this is normal.”

Wanda looked at her then. The sarcasm slipped for a second. Just a second.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” she asked, quieter now. “That I regret it? That I wish we’d never…?”

Y/N swallowed. “I want you to be honest. For once.”

Wanda stepped forward, suddenly too close. Her voice dropped.

“Fine. You want honesty?” Her eyes searched Y/N’s. “I think about that kiss every night.”

Y/N’s breath caught.

“I think about what would’ve happened if my dad hadn’t proposed to your mom. If we weren’t stuck under the same roof, pretending nothing ever happened.”

Wanda’s fingers brushed her wrist. “But we are. And now I have to sit at breakfast with you across from me, wearing that stupid hoodie, acting like you don’t feel it too.”

Y/N’s voice cracked. “I do feel it.”

Silence. Their eyes locked.

“Then why are you mad at me?” Wanda asked, softer now.

Y/N looked away. “Because you ghosted me after that kiss. And now you sit with me at lunch like nothing’s wrong. Like *you* get to decide when it matters.”

Wanda blinked. Guilt flickered.

“I was scared,” she admitted.

Y/N turned back to her. “So am I.”

A long pause.

“I shouldn’t want you,” Y/N whispered.

“I know,” Wanda said, barely audible. “But I do.”

And for a moment, the world tilted.

But neither moved. Neither kissed.

Because wanting each other was easy.

Living with it—that was the hard part.

---

Dinner was quiet.

Too quiet.

Oleg was rambling about his new teaching position, and Y/N’s mom nodded politely at every word, stealing glances toward the teens at opposite ends of the table.

Wanda picked at her mashed potatoes like they offended her. Y/N kept her eyes on her plate and said nothing at all.

They hadn’t spoken since the stairwell.

Not at school. Not on the walk home. Not even when Wanda brushed past her at the front door, close enough for her perfume to linger.

“I’m glad you girls are getting along,” Oleg said with a smile, breaking the silence. “High school’s tough enough without family drama, right?”

Wanda’s fork froze mid-air.

Y/N gave a small, hollow laugh and shoved another bite in her mouth.

---

Later, Y/N stood in the upstairs hallway, toothbrush dangling from her mouth, staring at Wanda’s bedroom door.

It was cracked open.

She should’ve kept walking. Should’ve gone into her room, shut the door, put headphones in, and pretended everything was normal.

Instead, she knocked.

Softly.

“Yeah?” came Wanda’s voice from inside.

Y/N stepped in.

Wanda was curled up on her bed in an oversized sweater, hair wet from a recent shower, legs tucked under a blanket. She wasn’t reading. She wasn’t watching anything. Just… sitting there. Waiting.

Y/N stayed near the door.

“You okay?” she asked.

Wanda looked at her with those deep, unreadable eyes. “You’re asking me that now?”

Y/N sighed. “I didn’t mean to come at you so hard earlier.”

“No, you were right,” Wanda said, her voice quieter now. “I shut you out. I didn’t know what to do with what happened between us.”

“And now?” Y/N asked.

Wanda hesitated. “Now I want to pretend we’re just two girls in the same school again. Before the wedding. Before all this.”

Y/N gave a small, tired smile. “We can’t go back.”

“I know.”

A silence stretched between them. The hallway light behind Y/N cast her shadow across Wanda’s carpet.

“I think about it too,” Y/N said finally. “That kiss.”

Wanda looked at her like she was holding her breath.

“I never stopped wanting you,” Y/N confessed. “Even when it got complicated. Even when it got impossible.”

They stared at each other. That familiar pull crackled in the air between them.

But neither moved.

Because outside that room was a hallway. And down the hallway were their parents. And in that house, they weren’t just Y/N and Wanda anymore.

They were stepsisters.

“Goodnight,” Y/N whispered.

Wanda’s voice was barely a whisper. “Goodnight.”

And as the door clicked shut, both of them lay awake, two doors apart, craving something they couldn’t have.

Not anymore.

---

The days that followed were unbearable.

They barely spoke. Barely made eye contact. But the tension followed them like a shadow—thick in the air during breakfast, suffocating during car rides, lingering in the spaces where their shoulders nearly touched but never quite did.

At school, they played their roles. Wanda smiled in the hallways and laughed with her friends. Y/N kept her head down, skated to class, joked with Nat and Carol like she wasn’t constantly glancing toward red hair in the crowd.

But the truth followed them home every day.

In the quiet. In the in-between.

And eventually, it had to break.

---

It was late.

The house was dark. Everyone else asleep. Wanda padded into the kitchen in an old t-shirt, hoping for water. She didn’t expect to find Y/N already there, back turned, staring out the window with a glass in her hand.

Wanda froze.

Y/N didn’t turn around. Just said, “Couldn’t sleep?”

“No,” Wanda said, voice barely a breath. “You?”

Y/N shook her head. Silence stretched again. Familiar. Heavy.

Then—

“This is killing me,” Wanda whispered. “Pretending like we’re not… something.”

Y/N turned then. Slowly. Her eyes tired. Sad. And so full of everything Wanda felt too.

“It’s killing me too,” she said. “But what are we supposed to do, Wanda? Risk tearing our parents apart because we can’t stay away from each other?”

Wanda looked down.

“I don’t want to hurt them,” she said.

“Neither do I.”

“I want to choose you,” Wanda said quietly. “But if I do, it won’t just be us who gets hurt.”

Y/N stepped closer. “So what? We ignore it? We bury this and pretend we don’t want each other?”

“We already are,” Wanda said with a bitter smile. “And it’s tearing me apart.”

Y/N reached out without thinking. Her fingers brushed Wanda’s, desperate for something—anything—to hold onto.

And for a moment, Wanda let her.

They stood there, trembling, their hands barely touching, eyes locked in silent agony.

“I wish we met in another life,” Wanda whispered. “Where you weren’t my stepsister. Where we didn’t have to pretend.”

“I know,” Y/N said, voice cracking. “But this is the life we got.”

Wanda nodded, tears clinging to her lashes.

Then, slowly, she pulled her hand away.

“We have to stop,” she said, though it broke her to say it. “We have to try.”

Y/N blinked fast, nodding. “Yeah. We do.”

But neither moved. Not yet.

Because even when they tried to be strong, tried to do the right thing, the ache was still there. Unrelenting.

---

One Week Later

By the end of the first week, everything looked perfect from the outside.

Y/N and Wanda passed each other in the halls with polite nods. They shared the bathroom like normal siblings. They even managed to help set the table together without saying a word too sharp or too soft.

To their parents, it looked like the girls were settling in just fine.

But every moment felt like walking a tightrope.

Every brush of fingers when reaching for the same spoon. Every second of accidental eye contact. Every laugh they weren’t supposed to share, every memory they weren’t supposed to have.

It was unbearable.

Y/N stopped eating breakfast in the kitchen.

Wanda started walking to school with Monica instead of waiting for Y/N on the porch.

They both told themselves it was better this way.

They were lying.

---

One Night

It was late.

Everyone was asleep. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that rang in your ears.

Y/N was wide awake, staring at her ceiling, heart pounding like it always did lately—tight and restless. She couldn’t stop thinking about Wanda’s bare legs under oversized sweaters, the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating, or how she laughed—*really* laughed—when she let herself forget the rules.

And then there was the memory she couldn’t outrun: that kiss. Hot. Breathless. Full of promise.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut.

She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow.

The hallway creaked.

Her bedroom door cracked open.

Y/N bolted upright.

Wanda stood there in the dark, wrapped in a blanket, her eyes shining in the dim light.

“I can’t sleep,” she whispered.

Y/N’s voice was hoarse. ��Then don’t be here.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Y/N’s breath caught.

Wanda stepped inside and closed the door softly behind her.

She didn’t climb onto the bed. She didn’t touch her. She just sat on the floor against the wall, wrapping her arms around her knees, like she was trying to ground herself.

“I thought I could do this,” Wanda whispered. “Pretend. Keep you at a distance. But I see you every day, and it’s like I’m starving.”

Y/N swallowed thickly. “You think I don’t feel that too?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Wanda said. “They’re so happy. Our parents. I don’t want to ruin that. I can’t.”

Y/N pushed her fingers through her hair. “So what are we supposed to do? Torture ourselves?”

Wanda looked up at her. “We have to try.”

And for a while, they just sat there. Quiet. Wanting.

Eventually, Wanda stood and left.

Y/N didn’t sleep at all.

---

The Next Day

At school, they avoided each other like it was a sport. But their friends noticed.

Pepper leaned into Wanda’s side at lunch. “You okay? You’ve been off all week.”

“I’m fine,” Wanda said too quickly, stabbing at her salad.

Across the room, Carol gave Y/N a sideways look. “You know if you keep bottling stuff up, you’re gonna explode, right?”

Y/N didn’t respond. She just tossed a grape into her mouth and stared at nothing.

Because Wanda was sitting with Monica. Laughing. But not really.

And Y/N hated that she could tell.

---

Two Weeks Later

It happened on a Sunday.

The house was quiet. Oleg and Y/N’s mom were out at some local art exhibit. Pietro was at a friend’s. The storm outside had knocked out the power.

Wanda lit candles in the living room, wrapped herself in a blanket, and put on an old record player Oleg had dug out of the attic.

Y/N wandered in after hearing the music, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

“I didn’t think you liked Fleetwood Mac,” she said.

Wanda shrugged. “Didn’t think you paid attention.”

“I pay attention to everything when it comes to you,” Y/N said before she could stop herself.

Wanda froze.

The thunder cracked in the distance. The song shifted to Landslide.

Neither of them moved.

“I miss you,” Wanda whispered.

Y/N stepped forward, every breath shaky. “I never stopped missing you.”

Wanda looked up, her eyes wet. “We can’t.”

“I know.”

Their fingers touched. Just barely.

Wanda shook her head, trying to breathe. “You make it so hard to be good.”

Y/N’s voice cracked. “Then maybe we stop pretending to be.”

For one breathless second, it was all too close.

Wanda leaned in—so close their noses brushed.

But she stopped.

She stepped back.

“We can’t,” she said, voice trembling.

Y/N nodded, her heart breaking again. “I know.”

But neither walked away.

And that was the scariest part.

---

They were picture-perfect again.

Wanda helped her mom cook. Y/N helped Oleg in the garage. They all sat down for dinner like a Hallmark ad.

At school, Y/N and Wanda didn’t walk together, didn’t eat together, didn’t exist in each other’s orbits if they could help it.

But Y/N was always watching.

That’s how she saw it happen.

Some tall junior with too much gel in his hair cornered Wanda by the vending machine. He was smiling like he was confident and clueless. Wanda laughed politely, brushing her hair behind her ear. Classic deflection.

Y/N clenched her fists.

It meant nothing. She knew that. Wanda wasn’t into him. Wanda never even looked at anyone else.

But that didn’t matter when the jealousy hit like poison in her veins.

When the guy leaned in a little too close, Y/N saw red.

---

That Night

Wanda barely had time to set her bag down before she realized something was off.

Y/N didn’t greet her.

Didn’t glance up from the couch.

Didn’t even flinch when their mom said, “Girls, want to pick a movie for tonight?”

“I’m tired,” Y/N said. “Not in the mood.”

That wasn’t like her.

Wanda frowned but said nothing.

Later, she knocked on Y/N’s bedroom door.

No answer.

She opened it anyway.

“You’re ignoring me,” she said flatly.

Y/N sat at her desk, scribbling something into her sketchpad like it was life or death.

“Go away, Wanda.”

Wanda stepped inside anyway. “What the hell did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Y/N snapped, still not looking at her.

Wanda’s jaw tightened. “Then why are you acting like I don’t exist? You’re not even pretending anymore.”

“I can’t pretend anymore!”

That made Wanda freeze.

Y/N stood up abruptly. Her eyes were wild—pained.

“I’m in love with you, Wanda,” she said, voice cracking. “I’ve been trying not to be. I’ve been trying to be good, for our parents, for you. But I can’t watch you let some random guy flirt with you. I can’t watch you and pretend it doesn’t kill me.”

Wanda blinked. “Y/N—”

“You laughed at something he said.”

“It was small talk! I didn’t even like him—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Y/N said, softer now. “Because I’m the only one who can’t have you.”

Wanda’s eyes were filling with tears. “You think this is easy for me? You think I’m not dying inside every time I have to act like you’re just my step-sister?”

Silence stretched between them like a live wire.

“I want you too,” Wanda whispered.

Y/N looked at her like she didn’t believe it.

“I never stopped,” Wanda said. “I’m just… scared. We’re not supposed to feel this.”

Y/N’s voice cracked. “But we do.”

And that was the truth.

The silence between them was heavy. Breathing was hard.

Wanda’s words hung in the air like something sacred and dangerous all at once.

“I want you too.”

Y/N stepped closer before she could stop herself, eyes searching Wanda’s face for any hesitation. There was fear there, yes—but it was tangled with longing. Raw and open.

Wanda didn’t move.

Didn’t pull back.

Didn’t blink.

Y/N’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Then kiss me.”

And just like that, Wanda did.

She surged forward, hands fisting into Y/N’s shirt, pulling her down, up, into her—like she didn’t know where she began and where Y/N ended. Y/N’s arms went around her instantly, holding her like she’d been waiting for this exact moment her whole life.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss.

It was desperate. Messy. Hungry.

A crash of emotion too long suppressed.

Wanda whimpered against her mouth, and that broke something inside Y/N. She backed Wanda into the wall, their bodies pressed tight, lips moving fast, like they were making up for all the times they pretended they didn’t want this.

Didn’t need this.

But they did.

God, they did.

Wanda gasped when Y/N’s hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing just under her eye like she was fragile and precious. “I don’t care if it’s wrong,” Y/N said between kisses. “I just want you.”

Wanda nodded, breathless. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

They kissed again, slower this time. Softer. Like a promise.

They stayed like that until they heard footsteps outside in the hallway.

Wanda stiffened.

Y/N pulled back, resting her forehead against hers.

Back to reality.

Back to hiding.

But now, they couldn’t go back to what they were before.

Something had shifted.

And it was too big to ignore.

---

Does anyone want to see part 2 😁

#wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen x female reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x y/n #g!p reader

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firelilyfox · 9 days ago

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I will always rescue you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x avengers female reader

Summary: While being in a fight, Bucky looses sight of his girl. When he finds her being hurt he won't hold back to save her.

Warnings: sfw. mentions of trauma. death (not Bucky or reader). killing. physical pain (reader). established relationship. kissing. anxiety. hurt/comfort.

Wordcount: 1,3k

___________________________

The gun felt heavy in his hand.

Bucky sweared that he would only use it to scare the enemy and won’t pull the trigger to kill someone. Just incapacitate them. He was done with taking lives but he was still a fighter for a good cause. Him and the Avengers were on a mission to rescue citizens from a terrorist attack in the city. And everything went just like planned.

Until he lost his girl in the crowd.

She weren’t supposed to be there. She was supposed to be with the Maximoff Siblings. But when Bucky turned to look for them, he could only see Wanda and Pietro helping to get the people off the road and to safety.

„Where is she?“, Bucky barked at them.

Pietro looked up in confusion. His brows jerked upward when he realizes who he meant. „I don’t know, man. She was right behind us. Over there on the market place.“ He pointed his finger at a destroyed pavilion.

Wanda slapped his hand down. „No she was already on her way to Barton. He helped a family out of a collapsed building.“

„And where is Barton now? Why haven’t they returned yet?“ He tried not to sound too anxious. Bucky knew you were capable of protecting yourself if things get rough, but he still needed to see for himself that you were safe.

His chest tightens when Wanda shrugs. „Don’t know. But we can help find her.“

He was annoyed by himself that he was mad at them for loosing his girl out of their sight. At the end it was their job to protect the innocent citizens and not babysitting her, but still … he was mad.

Bucky nodded and turned on his heel to jogg over to the market place, wich wasn’t more than ruins by now. Bullets lying around, stone walls broken into pieces and blood splattered on the ground. He wanted to throw up … what if … what if this blood came from her?

„Barnes!“ The voice came from Natasha through his earpiece. „I heard your looking for someone.“

He held his breath, pressing the button on the earpiece to talk back. „Tell me where she is. Is she safe?“

Cracking sounds made it through the connection. „Not really. I’d see her getting dragged into a basement near the fountain. Have lost sight of her just now but …“ Natasha paused.

„What is it? I swear to god if you won’t start talking …“

„There were three man. And they are heavily armed, Bucky. I think they want to use her as bait.“

„Send me the location. Now. And stay the hell back.“ Bucky put his gun into his belt, rotating his bionic shoulder. „This just got personal.“

They weren’t far from him. Just about two blocks on the north. Bucky made his way there, sneaking through the narrow side streets to avoid getting caught by the enemy. His training over the years made him hyper focused and perfectly prepared for any dangerous situation. Bucky can deal with any threat that came up.

But he wasn’t trained to deal with the storm of uncontrollable emotions, that washed over him like a tidal wave the moment he saw his girlfriend lying on the floor.

And she was crying.

Bucky was hiding in the shadows, scanning the room for the men and their weapons. Two of them pointing guns on her and smirking in sick pleasure. His blood began to boil. He wanted to rip them into pieces. The third guy crouched down beside her.

„You know these fun little gadgets, don’t you?“ He pointed at her temples and Bucky narrowed his eyes to see what he means.

Two little metallic plates.

"This will hurt like hell sweetheart. Even on an Avenger. After all we got one without superpowers. Just another meaningless Widow, hm?"

He gave a sign and the guy on his left operated a remote. The plates began buzzing and she screamed like a feral animal in terrible pain.

And Bucky snapped.

He throws two knifes with an outer worldly accuracy. The blades cutting through the armor of the soldiers and came to a sudden stop when they stuck deep in their throats. Leaving them drop to the ground while gurgling on their own blood.

Bucky stepped out of the shadowed corner and grabbed the third man by the neck. He yanked him away from her and slamming him head first against the ground. The plates on his bionic arm shifting, building an immense pressure on his grip. Bucky could hear the face of the soldier break as soon as it made contact with the concrete beneath his feet.

With a quick twist he broke the mans neck.

Bucky looked up to see his girl still cramping in pain. Her whole body shivering and twitching. He found the remote laying on the ground and crushing it with feet.

A cry of relief escaped her mouth. „Bucky!“

He tugged her into his arms. Holding her until the electric shivering stopped to torture her body. Bucky knew this kind of feeling. Electric impulses rushing through the veins, a painful heat building up inside the bones. Making it hard to breath. Years and years of torture but nothing felt as worse, as seeing her suffering this pain now. She felt so breakable in his arms that he got terrified all over again, even if the threat was gone.

„I-I’m so-so sorry!“, she cried. Her shaky hands wandering up his shoulders and wrap around his neck tightly. Searching for safety. Holding on to him just as he does to her. „I’m sorry, Bucky.“

He leaned his head back, but didn’t let go of her. „What are you talking about?“ He mumbled. His voice sounded strained and his vision blurred with tears.

Her face was contorted in pain. Bucky swear he could hear his heart break seeing her like this. But when she spoke his whole world fell apart.

„I wasn’t careful. I’m sorry!“ She sobbed with eyes haunted by fear. „I should’ve been more carful… I-I..“

„Stop.“

„But it’s my fault. I should’ve fight back.“ She tried to get away from him but Bucky kept on holding her close.

„Love, stop.“ He insisted. But she couldn’t hear him.

„It’s my fault you had to kill them!“ She was hyperventilating and her voice got strangled with her tears.

So Bucky did the only thing that came to his mind to shut her up. He pressed his lips on hers. Rough and a little impatient. Maybe Bucky needed this more than her. He wanted to show his own nervous system that she was here. She was alive and well. And she was talking absolute nonsense.

When he ended the kiss, she looked at him surprised. Skin pale as a ghost and lips parted in shock. „Aren’t you mad?“ She asked. „You can be mad… You should be m-…“

„God, doll. Please shut up“, he chuckled with a teary smile. „I’m not mad.“

„But why?“ She reached out to cup his face with her palms and Bucky leaned into her touch, closing his eyes to remember this feeling. „You said you never wanted to kill someone. And today you were forced to do it anyway.“

He wanted to laugh, but didn’t. Was she really that clueless? How could she be? Bucky would burn the world down to save this girl. Including killing some really bad guys. He would rather die than let anything ever happen to her again.

„I don’t want to be the Winter Soldier again. He killed innocent people. And he wasn’t in control.“ His jaw tightened as glimpses of memories crossed his mind. „I want to be Bucky Barnes. And I want to be in control to protect the ones I love.“

He kissed her again. Soft and reassuring. „Especially the girl I love most.“

A shy smile pulled on the corners of her lips. „I love you too, Buck. With all my heart.“

Cracking sounds. „I hate to interrupt your foreplay guys but we need to get out of here before the press arrives, or our faces will be on the news again.“ Natasha insisted through Buckys earpiece. „And tell her that I’m happy she is still alive, Barnes.“

Bucky grinned and looked down on his whole world. „We should get out of here.“

_______________________________

Thanks for reading! 💙 All interactions are appreciated (but please do not copy my work!)

Bucky Barnes Masterlist 🦾

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delicatebarness · 1 year ago

Text

cry baby | series masterlist

Read Cry Baby in paperback & kindle here!

delicatebarness | masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader. Steve Rogers x Sister!Reader. Platonic!Natasha Romanoff x Reader. Platonic!Wanda Maximoff x Reader. Platonic!Sam Wilson x Reader.

Warnings: Biker Au. Bad boy with softie interior. Smoking. Alcohol. Crying, a lot of crying. Men being 🤮.

Main Story Word Count: 40,977

Support: Ko-Fi

Thank you!

Spotify Playlist

Cry Baby Final Draft

Prologue | Chapter One |

Cry Baby First Draft

Canon One Shots & Drabbles

Non Canon One Shots & Drabbles

"we're soulmates," | THE ALT ENDING |

Moods

Bucky | CryBaby | The Girls | The Boys

FAQS

What’s their age again? | PT2 | Cherry Cola | Siblings |

#cry baby series #cry baby #bucky barnes x cry baby #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #series masterlist #bucky fic

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urdreamydoodles · 2 months ago

Note

Alright hear me out…

X-men x Teen!reader who joined the brotherhood for vengeance after loosing a friend to a sentinel??

Imagine the reader and X-men had a parental bond. Like they were the readers real first loving father/mother figure?? (Maybe a sibling like bond for the younger characters?)

Possibly a hurt/comfort trope?

May I also ask for it to be with characters: Hank McCoy, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Logan Howlett, Remy Lebeau, Kurt Wagner, Jubilee, Erik Lensherr + [any of your personal favs!!]

[Feel free to ignore this, but for what it’s worth…

You’re so much stronger than you know and I wish the best of luck on your future operation and speedy recovery 💕 Your a wonderful writer and you brighten so many peoples day. WE LOVE YOU!!!]

X-MEN CHARACTERS X GN!TEEN!READER

You leave the X-Men and the person closest to you to join Brotherhood after you lost a friend to mutant-hate

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Hank McCoy, Emma Frost, Laura Kinney, Wade Wilson, Kitty Pryde, Warren Worthington III, Morph, Jubilee & Alex Summers

Reply to Beatle: Someone asked for platonic hurt/comfort headcanons? HERE IT IS AND I FUCKING LOVE IT! Thanks for your words, I also hope the surgery goes well... "Brighten so many people's day" Oh my god, I'm going to cry. I'm so happy that my passion makes people as happy as it makes me. LOVE ♡

Logan Howlett

- He never believed in fate, never put stock in the idea that people were meant to be in each other’s lives, but then he lost you, and something inside him twisted, snapped, and reformed into something unrecognizable. He was supposed to keep you safe. He had held you close when you were small, when the world still felt like it had softness left in it. He had promised you, in that gruff and clumsy way of his, that no one would ever take you from him. Then the Sentinels came, and in their cold, unfeeling metal grip, they didn’t just take your friend—they took you too, in a way far worse than death.

- He had known grief. He had known rage. But when he saw you standing beside Magneto, eyes filled with something distant and sharp, he felt something worse than anger. You, who once curled up beside him on the couch, who followed him like a shadow and made jokes about how he smelled like cigars and trees—now you stared at him like he was nothing. He never thought anything could hurt worse than the sound of metal on bone, but the look in your eyes cut deeper than any blade.

- He never stopped watching over you. Even when you hurled your anger at him, even when you screamed that he hadn’t been there when it mattered, he stayed. He let you rage because he knew it wasn’t really him you hated. You were drowning in grief, and the Brotherhood was the only place that let you breathe. But he saw the way your hands trembled when you fought, the way your shoulders curled inward at night. You weren’t as far gone as you wanted to be. And Logan—stubborn, unyielding, impossibly protective—was going to make damn sure you found your way back.

- One day, when the war had quieted, when the rage had burned itself out, he would be there. He would open his arms, and whether you crashed into him like a wave or simply stood there, hesitant and brittle, he would wait. Because love, the kind he had for you, wasn’t something that faded. It was adamantium, unbreakable, buried deep in his bones. And no matter how far you ran, he would always be home.

Remy LeBeau

- You were always quick. Quick with your hands, quick with your words, quick to laugh. But grief had stolen that speed, replacing it with something heavy and leaden in your limbs. He saw it in the way you moved now—slower, sharper, less like the bright ember you used to be and more like a knife, waiting to be drawn. It hurt, cher, more than he’d ever admit. He missed the way you used to grin at him, full of mischief and warmth, the way you’d steal the cards from his deck when you thought he wasn’t looking. Now, the only time he saw you smile was when fire danced in your palm, ready to be thrown.

- He called you mon cœur once, absentmindedly, like he always had, and for a moment, just a flicker of one, your breath hitched. But then your expression hardened, and you sneered, called him a traitor, told him he didn’t understand what it meant to lose. His easygoing smirk faltered, just for a second. He wanted to tell you that he knew loss too well, that he had spent a lifetime running from ghosts, that the weight of regret sat heavy on his shoulders. But he just tucked his cards into his pocket and let you go. For now.

- Remy had always been patient. He knew that love—real love—wasn’t about forcing someone to stay. It was about waiting, about showing up again and again, even when it hurt. So he left small reminders, little things that only you would notice. A card slipped into your pocket, a joke thrown your way in the middle of a fight, a whispered “Take care, cher,” just before he vanished into the night. He wanted you to know that no matter where you stood, no matter how far you strayed, he wasn’t letting go. Not really.

- And when the day came, when the storm inside you finally broke and you stood before him, tired and aching, he would only smile, lazy and warm, like you had never left. "Took you long enough," he’d tease, but his eyes would be soft, filled with all the words he never said. He would deal the cards again, slide one across the table to you like an invitation. "Stay awhile, mon cœur. Ain’t no rush."

Kurt Wagner

- You were the first person to tell him he was beautiful. Not in a passing way, not as a joke or a hollow reassurance, but as if you truly meant it. You had cupped his face in your hands once, traced a fingertip over the indigo skin of his cheek, and smiled. "You're like the night sky," you had said, "full of stars." And he had laughed, unsure how to carry the weight of that kind of kindness. But he held onto those words, tucked them somewhere safe in his heart.

- When you left, he prayed. Every night, he prayed for your safety, for your heart to find peace. He prayed that one day, you would look at him again the way you used to—not with anger, not with grief too heavy for your young soul, but with love. It wasn’t fair, losing someone before you even had the chance to fight for them. But faith, his faith, told him that love did not die so easily. You were lost, not gone. And the difference between the two was hope.

- He never stopped reaching for you, even when you recoiled. He never flinched when you lashed out, never turned away when you called him naive. You told him he didn’t understand vengeance, that his faith made him weak. But he only smiled at you, that same soft, unwavering smile, and said, “I understand love, mein Schatz. And I know it still lives in you.”

- The day you returned, you did not fall into his arms. You stood, hesitant, uncertain, your fingers twitching at your sides. And Kurt, with all the patience of the heavens, simply reached out a hand. No pressure, no demand—just an invitation. And when you took it, his fingers curling around yours, he whispered, "Welcome home, my star."

Scott Summers

- You had always looked up to him. He had been the steady presence in your life, the one who taught you how to stand your ground, how to lead with both your heart and your mind. But grief had torn through you like a wildfire, and in the ashes, you had found something sharp and unyielding. You had traded caution for recklessness, traded kindness for anger. And Scott, ever the strategist, ever the careful one, saw you slipping through his fingers like sand, and it terrified him.

- He had never been good at emotions. He wasn’t like Logan, who could weather your storms with quiet strength, or like Kurt, who could soften your anger with warmth. He was rigid, controlled, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel. It meant that when you called him a coward, when you told him the X-Men’s way had failed you, he didn’t have the words to make you stay. He could only stand there, jaw tight, fists clenched, watching you walk away.

- But Scott Summers did not give up on his people. Not on his team. Not on you. He watched from a distance, saw the way you fought with fury instead of purpose, saw the exhaustion in your stance when you thought no one was looking. And so he waited, standing at the edge of the battlefield, offering you not empty words but a promise. "When you're ready," he told you once, voice steady despite the storm between you, "I'll be here."

- And when you came back, not as the same person you once were but as someone tempered by loss and experience, he only nodded. No lectures, no demands. Just quiet acceptance. Because that’s what family did—they waited. And Scott had always been willing to wait for the people he loved.

Jean Grey

- You had always been bright, vibrant, full of fire. She remembers how you used to lean against her shoulder, laughing at something she said, your energy like a spark catching onto everything around you. But when the Sentinels took your friend, they took more than just a life—they took the light from your eyes. Now, you burn in a different way, not as a star but as a wildfire, reckless and untamed, swallowing everything in your path. And Jean, who has seen what unchecked power can do, aches to pull you close before you consume yourself.

- She feels your pain like it’s her own, even when you refuse to speak it. Your thoughts, sharp and jagged, bleed into her mind despite the walls you try to build. She hears the echoes of your grief, the quiet whispers of doubt that haunt you in the dead of night. And no matter how far you run, no matter how fiercely you try to sever the thread between you, Jean holds onto it. Gently, patiently, like a mother refusing to let go of her child’s hand in the dark.

- There are moments, rare and fleeting, where she sees glimpses of the you she once knew. A joke muttered under your breath, the way your fingers twitch like you want to reach out but don’t. She never forces it, never pushes. She simply remains—an anchor, a presence, a warmth you can always return to when the cold becomes too much. "I’m not asking you to forgive," she tells you one night, voice as soft as the wind outside. "I’m asking you to remember who you were before the pain."

- And one day, when the anger has settled and the grief is no longer a wound but a scar, you come to her. You don’t say anything at first, just press your forehead against her shoulder like you used to. She exhales, a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and wraps her arms around you. "Welcome home," she whispers, voice thick with unshed tears. And in that moment, she feels it—your fire, no longer burning out of control, but warming, steady, alive.

Ororo Munroe

- She always knew you were a storm waiting to break. Even before the Sentinels, even before the Brotherhood, there was something untamed in you, something raw and powerful that the world never quite knew how to handle. But where you once raged like a summer thunderstorm—brief, intense, but passing—now you were something colder, a hurricane that never ended, a sky that never cleared. She watched you from a distance, a goddess unable to interfere, aching to call you back before you lost yourself completely.

- Ororo was never one for begging. She did not plead, did not chase. But that did not mean she did not care. She simply loved like the sky—constant, unwavering, always waiting. She sent rain when you were exhausted, let the wind carry her presence to you when she could not stand by your side. And when you looked at her with resentment, with the weight of your pain pressing against your bones, she did not flinch. "I do not blame you for your anger," she told you once, voice steady as the earth beneath your feet. "But I will not let it destroy you."

- She saw it in the way your shoulders sagged after a battle, in the way your hands clenched when someone spoke your friend’s name. You were tired, but you did not know how to stop. So she waited, standing at the edge of your storm, arms open but never forcing. And when the first crack of lightning faltered, when your rage finally gave way to exhaustion, she stepped forward—not as a leader, not as a mentor, but as the woman who had loved you like her own from the moment you first called her family.

- The day you returned, there were no words. Only the sound of the wind shifting, gentle and warm, as you fell into her embrace. She said nothing as she ran her fingers through your hair, as she held you like she had so many times before, letting the weight of your grief settle between you. She did not promise that things would be easy. But she did promise, in the silent way that only she could, that she would never let you stand in the storm alone again.

Rogue

- You had always been stubborn, always had that fire in your gut that made you stand taller, fight harder, push forward even when the world tried to knock you down. She admired that about you. Looked at you like a little sibling she never had, someone who reminded her of herself when she was younger—raw, reckless, full of fight. But grief had turned that fire into something else. Something colder, sharper. And it killed her to watch you go.

- She tried to stop you, back when you first left. Grabbed your wrist, held on tight, told you that revenge wasn’t gonna bring your friend back. And you had looked at her with eyes so full of pain it almost broke her. "Then what will?" you had asked, voice shaking. She hadn’t had an answer. And so you left, and she let you, even though it tore something inside her apart.

- But Rogue wasn’t one to give up easy. She still found you, still reached for you in the only ways she knew how. An old jacket left in your path, a song you used to love playing on a distant radio when she knew you’d hear it. She was never good at words, never good at convincing people to stay. But she was damn good at loving people even when they didn’t want to be loved.

- When you finally came back, it wasn’t dramatic. Just a quiet moment, the two of you sitting on the steps of the mansion, looking at the stars like you used to. She nudged your shoulder with hers, let a slow grin spread across her lips. "’Bout time, shug," she said, like you had just been gone for a day instead of months. And in that moment, you knew—she had never really let you go.

Erik Lehnsherr

- He had seen many children lost to war. Had watched bright, hopeful souls turn into weapons, into shadows of the people they used to be. And yet, when he looked at you, something inside him twisted in a way it never had before. You were young, too young to know the true weight of vengeance, but still, you carried it like a soldier. He recognized the fire in your eyes, the hunger for justice that had consumed so much of his own life. And so, he welcomed you into his ranks, not as a leader taking in a follower, but as a man who saw himself in the child before him.

- He did not coddle you. Did not tell you to grieve gently or to find peace where there was none. He trained you, sharpened you, molded your anger into something useful. He taught you that the world would never be fair, that mercy was a weakness, that power was the only way to ensure you never lost another loved one again. And for a time, you believed him.

- But even as he strengthened you, as he guided you into becoming something unstoppable, he saw the cracks forming. The hesitation in your strikes, the moments where your fury wavered, the late nights where you sat alone, staring at nothing. And Erik—who had spent his life convincing himself that vengeance was all he had left—wondered if he had done you a disservice.

- The day you left, he did not stop you. He watched, silent, as you turned back toward the people who had once been your family. And when Charles asked him why he had let you go, why he had not fought to keep you, he simply closed his eyes and said, "Because they deserve a chance to heal in a way I never could.”

Charles Xavier

- He had always seen such potential in you, long before tragedy turned you into someone unrecognizable. He remembers the way your mind used to shine—full of curiosity, full of dreams, full of questions that made him smile. You had been more than a student to him; you had been a light, a reminder of why he built his school in the first place. And then, the Sentinels came. And in their wake, they left you hollow, bitter, distant. He had reached for you, but grief had made you untouchable.

- He had tried to speak to you, tried to offer solace in words he had spoken too many times before. But you had looked at him with eyes that burned, accusing, shattered. "You weren’t there," you had said, and it had struck him deeper than any blade. Because it was true. He hadn’t been there. He had failed you, as he had failed so many others. And so, when you left, when you turned your back on everything he had taught you, he did not stop you. He only hoped—prayed—that the path you walked would not destroy you.

- Still, he never let go. He kept you in his thoughts, in his dreams, in the quiet corners of his mind where he held onto those he could not save. He followed your movements, not as a spy but as a man who could not bear to lose another child to war. And when your thoughts occasionally reached him—flashes of regret, of uncertainty, of loneliness—he did not intrude. He simply sent back warmth, a reminder that you were not as alone as you believed.

- The day you returned, it was not with words, not with apologies or explanations. It was simply a presence, a step through familiar doors, a quiet acknowledgment that you had found your way back. He did not demand answers. He did not ask for promises. He only smiled, eyes soft, and said, "It is good to see you home." And in that moment, he knew—you had been lost, but not beyond reach. Never beyond reach.

Wanda Maximoff

- She understood loss better than most. Understood how grief could shape a person, twist them into something unrecognizable. When you left, she had not blamed you. How could she? When she had once stood where you stood, when she had once believed that pain could only be answered with more pain? She had watched you go with a heavy heart, with the aching knowledge that sometimes, love was not enough to keep someone from walking into the fire.

- But she had never stopped looking for you. Never stopped listening for your voice, even in the quietest moments. Magic had a way of finding what was lost, of revealing truths that words could not. And in the echoes of the universe, in the spaces between time, she felt you—angry, lost, searching. And oh, how she longed to reach through the veil and pull you back, to tell you that vengeance would never fill the emptiness inside you. But she knew. She knew you would not hear her. Not yet.

- So she waited. Watched from the distance, sent quiet spells of protection when she thought you would not notice. She never intervened, never forced her presence upon you. But when the nightmares came, when the weight of everything became too much, she was there—in dreams, in whispers, in the way the wind carried her voice when you needed it most. "You are not alone," she murmured into the spaces between reality, hoping—praying—that one day, you would believe her.

- And when that day finally came, when you stood before her with uncertainty in your eyes, she did not demand explanations. She only stepped forward, cupped your face in her hands, and smiled—soft, knowing, full of understanding. "You found your way back," she whispered, and it was not a question, not a reprimand. It was only love, unconditional and unshaken.

Pietro Maximoff

- He had never been good at patience. Never been good at waiting, at letting things happen as they would. When you left, when you turned your back on the X-Men, he had wanted to chase after you, to shake sense into you, to demand that you stay. But he hadn’t. Because he knew what grief could do. Knew how it could turn a person inside out. And for all his arrogance, for all his sharp words and sharper wit, he had understood that this was not a battle he could win by force.

- That didn’t mean he didn’t worry. He watched from afar, always keeping track, always knowing where you were. He told himself it was just habit, just a precaution, but deep down, he knew the truth—he missed you. Missed the way you used to laugh at his stupid jokes, the way you used to roll your eyes when he bragged, the way you had never treated him like he was just a fast-talking nuisance. You had been his friend, his sibling in all but blood. And losing you had felt like losing a part of himself.

- He never said it outright, never admitted how much it hurt to see you on the other side of the fight. Instead, he did what he always did—he covered it up with sarcasm, with teasing remarks, with challenges thrown your way whenever your paths crossed. "You’re slower than I remember," he’d quip, even when he could see the exhaustion in your eyes. It was easier that way. Easier than saying, I miss you. Please come home.

- When you finally did, when you stood beside him instead of against him, he didn’t make a big deal of it. Didn’t get emotional, didn’t ask for explanations. He just nudged you with his shoulder, smirked, and said, "Took you long enough." But later, when no one was looking, he stood next to you in the quiet, a rare moment of stillness, and murmured, "Don’t scare me like that again." And for once, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, things could go back to the way they were.

Hank McCoy

- He had always admired your mind. You had been sharp, inquisitive, eager to learn. A student not just of textbooks and science, but of the world itself. He had enjoyed your questions, your endless curiosity, the way you challenged even him to see things from new angles. You had been brilliant. And then, grief had stolen that brilliance, turned your hunger for knowledge into a hunger for vengeance. And that had broken something in him.

- He had tried to reason with you. Had tried to make you see that revenge would not bring back what you had lost. "Justice and vengeance are not the same," he had told you once, voice heavy with the weight of experience. But you had looked at him with eyes full of sorrow and rage and said, "Then tell me what justice looks like when they’re already dead." He had not had an answer. And so, you had left. And he had let you go, because what else could he do?

- But he had never given up hope. Even as you fought against them, even as you stood with those who did not share his ideals, he had never truly believed you were lost. You were too bright, too thoughtful, too full of something deeper than just pain. And so, he waited. Watched. Hoped. And when you stumbled, when the weight of your choices became too heavy, he was there—not to scold, not to lecture, but to remind you that you had always had a place to return to.

- "It is never too late to choose a different path," he told you when you finally came back, his voice warm, steady. "No one is beyond redemption." And though you said nothing, though the guilt still sat heavy on your shoulders, you let him lead you inside. And for him, for the man who had always seen you as brilliant, that was enough.

Emma Frost

- Emma had always been good at reading people, at peeling back the layers of their minds and seeing the truth beneath. And you—once bright, once full of so much untapped power and potential—had been one of her most promising students. Not because you were eager or obedient, but because you questioned things. Because you had never accepted easy answers. And then, the world had turned cruel. Had taken something from you that could never be replaced. And instead of questioning, you had chosen rage.

- She had watched you go, arms crossed, face unreadable, offering no words of comfort or dissuasion. Because Emma knew better than anyone—when someone decided to burn, there was little anyone could do but wait for the fire to run its course. She had been there herself, once. Had felt the sharp edges of grief carving through her, turning her into something ruthless. But still, she had wanted—hoped—that you would not lose yourself entirely to the flames.

- When you crossed paths again, when you stood on opposite sides of the battlefield, she did not waste time with lectures. She only looked at you, eyes cool, sharp, assessing. "I see you’ve grown bolder," she remarked, voice almost lazy. But underneath, there was something else—something softer, something worried. She did not say it outright. Did not tell you that revenge would never satisfy, that grief would never truly fade. Because she knew you wouldn’t listen. Not yet.

- And so, when you finally found your way back—battered, exhausted, uncertain—she did not greet you with warmth, but neither did she turn you away. She simply placed a perfectly manicured hand under your chin, tilted your face up, and said, "Are we finished with the self-destruction phase, darling? Or should I prepare for another dramatic exit?" And when you laughed—shaky, real—she allowed herself a small smile, the kind that meant I knew you’d come home.

Laura Kinney

- Laura had never been good with words, had never known how to give comfort in ways that weren’t sharp and blunt and a little too honest. But when you had still been with the X-Men, she had understood you in a way others hadn’t. There had been something familiar in you—something raw and wounded and angry at a world that had taken too much. You had never feared her, never looked at her like she was a weapon instead of a person. And in turn, she had allowed herself to see you as something like family.

- When you left, she did not chase you. She knew what it was to be consumed by pain, to feel like the only thing left was the urge to strike back. She had seen it in herself, in Logan, in too many others. But that didn’t mean she had stopped caring. She still kept track of you, watching from the distance, stepping into fights she had no reason to be in just to make sure you weren’t getting yourself killed. She never made it obvious. Never let you see. But she was there, always there.

- When she did see you again, it was in battle—claws out, movements precise, eyes locked on yours with something unreadable in them. "You're being reckless," she told you, voice flat. And when you scoffed, when you accused her of being a hypocrite, she only tilted her head. "Maybe. But I’m still alive. Will you be?" It was not a threat. It was a warning. A quiet, desperate plea that she would never say aloud.

- And when you finally returned—not with words, but with bruises and exhaustion and a weight in your eyes that had nothing to do with battle—she did not ask why. Did not demand explanations. She simply stepped beside you, close enough that your shoulders nearly brushed, and muttered, "Next time, don’t make me wait so long." It was the closest thing to I missed you that she could say. And for you, it was enough.

Wade Wilson

- Wade wasn’t the sentimental type. At least, that’s what he told himself. And when you left the X-Men, when you joined the Brotherhood with vengeance in your eyes and grief clawing at your ribs, he had pretended it didn’t bother him. "Kid’s gotta go through their rebellious phase," he had joked. "I give it six months before they realize villain monologues get really old." But underneath the jokes, underneath the wisecracks, there had been something else—something that felt a lot like worry.

- He checked in on you more than he cared to admit. Showed up to Brotherhood hideouts just to cause trouble, just to see how you were holding up. "How’s the whole ‘vengeance’ thing working out for ya?" he’d ask, grinning, leaning too close. But there was something in his eyes—something sharp, something real. And when you snapped at him, told him to leave, he only sighed, exaggerated and dramatic. "Fine, fine, I’ll let you have your little angsty villain arc. Just… don’t get too murder-y, okay?"

- And then, one day, you were on the ground—wounded, bleeding, caught in a fight that had gone wrong. And Wade was there, standing over you, guns still smoking, mask tilted slightly to the side. "Wow, look at that," he mused. "Turns out I do care if you get yourself killed. Who knew?" And when you tried to argue, when you tried to push yourself up, he just crouched beside you, voice unusually quiet. "You’re not as alone as you think, kid. You never were."

- When you finally came back, when you hesitated at the mansion’s doorstep, unsure if you were still welcome, Wade appeared beside you like he had been expecting you all along. "So, does this mean I get to say ‘I told you so’ or is it too soon?" And when you actually laughed, tired but real, he just slung an arm around your shoulders and grinned. "C’mon, let’s get you inside before one of the serious ones gives you a dramatic redemption speech. I promise mine will be way more fun."

Kitty Pryde

- You had been like a sibling to her. Had shared late-night talks, had trained together, had whispered about dreams and fears in the quiet moments between battles. And when you left—when the weight of loss became too much and you turned your back on the X-Men—Kitty had felt it like a wound. Had wanted to reach out, to shake you, to tell you that running wouldn’t make the pain go away. But she hadn’t. Because she knew what grief could do. Knew that sometimes, words weren’t enough.

- Still, it didn’t mean she stopped caring. She watched from afar, always hoping—always believing—that you would come back. And when you crossed paths again, on opposite sides of a fight, she had hesitated. Had looked at you with something raw in her eyes. "Is this really who you are now?" she had asked, voice shaking, half-daring you to prove her wrong. And when you hadn’t answered, when you had only turned away, it had felt like losing you all over again.

- But Kitty was stubborn. And she refused to believe that you were gone for good. So, she left reminders in the places she knew you’d see—old photos, scrawled notes in places only you would think to look. "You’re not alone," one had read, written in the messy handwriting you used to tease her about. "We still love you." She didn’t know if you ever read them. But she hoped.

- And when you did return, when you stood in the doorway of the mansion with uncertainty in your eyes, she was the first to reach you. No hesitation, no anger, just arms wrapping around you in a hug so fierce it knocked the breath from your lungs. "Took you long enough, dummy," she whispered, voice thick with emotion. And when you clung to her just as tightly, she knew—you had been lost, but never truly gone.

Warren Worthington III

- Warren had always been something untouchable—golden, radiant, too bright for the world to dim. But you had been one of the few who had seen past the perfect façade, past the easy smiles and effortless charm. You had known him before the weight of expectations had settled fully on his shoulders, before the world had tried to clip his wings. And in return, he had been your light—your first real glimpse of warmth, of family, of something good.

- And then, you had left. Had walked away with fire in your eyes and vengeance in your heart, and Warren had watched it happen, powerless to stop you. He had wanted to go after you, had wanted to remind you that pain didn’t have to be carried alone, that grief didn’t have to turn you into something unrecognizable. But he hadn’t. Because he knew what it was to feel lost. Knew what it was to crave control when the world had taken everything from you.

- When he saw you again, it was mid-battle, and for a moment—just a moment—his breath caught. You were still you, still fierce and beautiful and untamed, but there was something new in your gaze. Something hardened, something tired. "This isn’t you," he had said, voice quieter than it should have been. And when you had laughed—bitter, sharp—he had only clenched his jaw, wings flaring behind him. "If this is what revenge is doing to you, then maybe it’s not worth it."

- When you finally returned, he was waiting. Not with anger, not with lectures, but with an understanding that settled deep in his bones. "Took your time," he murmured, wings folding around you like a shield, like a promise. And when you leaned into him, exhausted and undone, he simply held you there, unshaken, unwavering. Because he had lost you once, and he would not make the mistake of letting you go again.

Morph

- He had always been the first to make you laugh, the first to pull you out of your worst thoughts with some ridiculous joke, some exaggerated impression. He had been your safe place, your soft landing, the one who made the weight of the world feel just a little lighter. And then, in the wake of your loss, in the wreckage of everything you had once believed in, you had turned your back on all of it. On the X-Men. On him.

- But Morph wasn’t the type to let go so easily. Even when you had stormed off, even when you had sworn you weren’t coming back, he had never truly left you alone. He popped up in the strangest places, appearing as the most absurd disguises—a Brotherhood grunt, a news anchor, a lamp post, for God’s sake—just to remind you that he was still watching out for you. That he still cared. "You miss me yet?" he’d ask with a grin, but his eyes were always too serious, too knowing.

- And when battle forced you face-to-face, when you found yourself staring at the one person who had never stopped believing in you, he had only sighed, shaking his head. "You look terrible," he said, shifting into a mirror image of you, exaggerated and over-dramatic. "All broody and tragic. Really not your best look." But then, softer, quieter, he had added, "You know I’d still choose you, right? No matter what side you think you’re on?"

- When you finally stumbled back into the mansion, worn and weary, he didn’t make a big show of it. He just grinned, opened his arms wide, and said, "Took you long enough! I was this close to staging a dramatic rescue mission." And when you actually laughed—small, tired, real—he knew. Knew that, even after everything, he had never truly lost you.

Jubilee

- She had idolized you once, in the way younger siblings idolize their older, cooler counterparts. You had been the one to teach her things the others wouldn’t—the best ways to sneak out undetected, the secret stash of candy hidden in the mansion’s walls, the perfect balance between mischief and heroism. She had loved you big, had looked up to you like you hung the stars. And then, just like that, you were gone.

- She had been angry. Had felt betrayed in a way she hadn’t known was possible. "Fine," she had muttered to the others when they tried to comfort her. "They wanna be a villain? Let them." But even as she said it, even as she crossed her arms and pretended not to care, she had found herself keeping track of your name in news reports, hoping—praying—that you weren’t beyond saving.

- When she saw you again, her first instinct had been to blast you with fireworks, to demand answers, to shake you until you listened. But instead, she had only stared at you, wide-eyed and wavering. "Did it help?" she had asked, voice smaller than she wanted it to be. "Did joining them make the pain go away?" And when you hadn’t answered—when you had only turned your gaze to the ground—she had known.

- And when you finally came back, hesitant and uncertain, Jubilee did not hesitate. She threw herself at you in a hug so fierce it nearly knocked you both over. "Don’t you dare leave me again," she whispered, voice choked with something dangerously close to tears. And when you promised—soft, raw, real—she only held on tighter, refusing to let go.

Alex Summers

- He had always understood you in a way that few others did. Had known what it was to live in the shadow of grief, to carry anger like a second skin. He had seen the way loss had shaped you, had recognized something too familiar in the sharpness of your gaze, the set of your jaw. And when you had turned your back on the X-Men, when you had chosen vengeance over family, he had not chased you. But he had understood.

- That didn’t mean he had forgiven you easily. When you faced each other again, when battle had forced you to opposite sides, his expression had been unreadable. "This is really the path you wanna take?" he had asked, arms crossed, jaw tight. And when you had met his gaze—defiant, unyielding—he had only exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. Do what you have to. Just try not to die being stubborn."

- And then, one day, you had almost did. Had nearly let yourself be consumed by the very fire you had been chasing. And it was Alex who had pulled you from the wreckage, who had stood over you with an expression torn between fury and relief. "You’re a damn idiot," he had muttered, helping you up. But his grip had been steady, his hands warm, grounding. And when he added, "Come home when you’re done running," you had almost believed you could.

- When you finally did, he was waiting. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "Took you long enough," he said, but there was no real bite to it. Just relief, just familiarity, just the silent understanding that had always existed between you. And when you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, he only bumped his shoulder against yours and muttered, "Welcome back.”

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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year ago

Note

Could you please do a part 2 for New Additions where there is more smut that actually results in a baby (or twins because it runs in the family). I feel like Wanda would be obsessed with the idea that the reader is carrying their child! And you could pick the gender. (I would love to see the Twins reaction to finding out that their gonna have a sibling)?

Another New Addition

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff & Smut

Words: 5.6k+

Summary: It finally happened, you were pregnant and growing your family that you now shared with Wanda. However, pregnancy was a little rough on you. Wanting to take care of you, and also absolutely adoring the way you were glowing from being pregnant with her child, Wanda had a plan. She was going to pamper you all night long.

Warnings: lots of pregnancy talk; pregnancy sex I guess? Bathtub sex, clit play, nipple play, top!Wanda but she's topping from the bottom lol, bottom!r, strap-on (r receiving); enchanted strap, cum-filled strap, strap riding, thigh riding, aftercare

A/N: this isn’t quite what the prompt is asking for but… still gonna use it to post this part two. Also, full disclosure I’m not sure what a power bottom is so can someone please tell me if that’s how I wrote Wanda to fix my warnings lol

New Addition (Part 1)

This whole pregnancy thing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Then again, you knew it wasn’t going to be some magical journey that television loves to tell you it is.

One might think, though, if this pregnancy was happening because of your magical soon-to-be wife then it wouldn’t be so difficult sometimes. It wasn’t always awful, but you also were barely four months pregnant and already feeling ready for this kid to come out. There was still a long way to go and today was a particularly hard day for you.

What people don’t really talk about, outside of morning sickness, in this part of a pregnancy are the other random symptoms. For instance, you were just sore all time, in random places. Your back would ache, or your whole body, or sometimes just your legs. It depended on the day. And the hormones raging through your body right now… God, those fucking hormones caused the weirdest shifts in your mood. You cried at everything.

It was a little humiliating when you’d sit down and watch a silly Pixar movie with the boys and end up sobbing your eyes out at every happy ending. The boys, being as sweet and perfect as always, would wrap their little arms around you and tell you everything was already right. They had no way of understanding that it was just your body wreaking havoc on your emotions. What was worse was the more they tried to console you, the sweeter you found it, and the harder you cried.

It was always Wanda who would end the tears. Seeing her children wrapped around either side of you, she just somehow knew that was making it harder for you to stop. She’d always say just the right thing to calm her boys’ sweet, but protective nature towards you.

“She’s okay, my loves,” Wanda would coo at them. “But I can take good care of her now, hm?” It always seemed like it was that promise of care that would reassure them you’d be okay if they untangled themselves from you. And each time, Wanda would take your hand and pull you out of the living room and into your now shared bedroom to get you ready for much needed rest.

That’s another thing people don’t tell you. With all the emotions and changes running rampant in your body you’re just tired all the time. You honestly felt a little guilty with how often you’d take midday naps or go to bed early. Your days were filled with family time with the boys and Wanda if she wasn’t busy. But after these afternoons, you’d be drained. There wasn’t much alone time left for you to give Wanda the attention you worried she was missing.

And she was missing this attention, but she also knew it was temporary. What you were doing for her, carrying her child, was so much more important than a temporary shortage of your attention. Plus, she had her moments with you. Currently, her favorite thing was waking up next to you and sneaking her hands under your shirt to press to your stomach. You had just started showing, even though it wasn’t too much yet. It was still enough for Wanda to be able to feel the difference. Most mornings you’d wake up to her fingertips tracing over your belly, or pressed flat trying to feel a kick. You told her multiple times it was too early for that, but Wanda wasn’t going to miss the opportunity if it were to come soon.

Even though Wanda cherished these moments of being close to you, she still craved certain other moments of intimacy. It wasn’t like the two of you completely stopped, though. The frequency was just… less. Especially since you started to show. Part of you was a little self conscious about it, even though Wanda continuously reminded you of how beautiful you were each and every day. Part of it was also because your body was just changing and you genuinely were a little more tired lately. It wasn’t that you were avoiding or rejecting Wanda exactly, things were just a bit different now. Wanda understood, she really did. But still, this change in frequency didn’t go unnoticed by her.

So when a week went by and you two hadn’t really done more than spoon in bed and kiss each other here and there, Wanda was getting a little pent up. Not only that, but the way you just utterly glowed from being pregnant with her child, it was doing something to Wanda that she didn’t expect. She hated that she felt so desperate to have you, especially when she knew this week you had been struggling with some rough pregnancy symptoms, but she just really couldn’t help it. Of course, she would never make you take care of this problem for her or make you feel bad if you said no, but she really really didn’t want you to say no. So, she came up with a little plan. One that made sure you knew you were loved and cared for, while also getting opportunities to be closer to you and touch you in a way she hadn’t all week.

Wanda had asked you to drop the boys off at a friend’s for the night, claiming she had forgotten something she needed to take care of right away. You, being the kind soul that Wanda knows and loves, gladly said yes and even offered to take them to buy snacks for their big sleepover with their friend. Grateful for more time to prepare and just out of the sheer love she had for you and the way you loved her boys, Wanda made sure to use the extra time to her advantage.

She was setting up the finishing touches when she heard the front door open and close. An eager grin spread across her face as she heard you call for her and that’s when she knew she needed to wrap up. With a snap of her fingers, candles lit all across the room and she took a moment to soak in what she had done. As she looked around the room, her smile grew. Everything was perfect. There was no doubt in Wanda’s mind that you were going to love it.

After one more quick check that everything was in place, she finally went downstairs to greet you. The minute her eyes fell on your bright smile she couldn’t help herself, she hurried down the stairs to wrap you up into her arms.

“You’re back!” She exclaimed between kisses she showered across your cheeks. You giggled and wrapped your arms around her waist as she kept kissing you.

“I was only gone for less than two hours,” you laughed and brushed your nose against hers. “We could’ve waited so you could join us.”

“Hm, I know,” Wanda pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “But then I wouldn’t have had time to prepare your surprise.”

“Surprise?” You pulled back to look at Wanda and the way you gave her such a curious, yet excited look, had her heart melting.

She pulled you in again for another kiss, this one slightly longer and lingering. “Mhm,” she mumbled against your lips. “I’ve spent a lot of time planning tonight.”

“Oh?” You tried to pull back from the kiss to question her again, but Wanda leaned back in, capturing your lips one more time. “Wanda,” you giggled against her lips as you tried yet again to pull back. “Do I get to see this surprise?”

“Hm?” Wanda blinked, already getting carried away just from kissing you. “Oh, yes! Sorry…” she gave you a sheepish smile and slid her hand into yours. Without hesitation, you let her lead you back upstairs to the bedroom.

The whole time you followed her, you looked all over, trying to catch a glimpse of this surprise. Wanda looked back at you for a moment as you kept scanning the bedroom, and couldn’t help but smile at how adorable you were being. She shook her head, sometimes your excitement matched her boys. It’s no wonder you three clicked instantly.

“So…” You were still looking around the bedroom. “Where’s this surprise?”

“In the bathroom.” Wanda pointed to the door. “Go see for yourself.”

The confusion in your eyes grew, but you eagerly made your way to the bathroom. Wanda had let you go, no longer guiding you as she watched you reach for the door. She walked up behind you as you opened it and you let out a surprised gasp.

“Wow…” You took in the sight before you. Candles filled the bathroom, leaving you both in a soft muted light. The tub was filled and full of bubbles. Sprinkled in and around the tub were rose petals. It looked like a stereotypical scene out of a romcom. Wanda pulled out her phone for a moment to press a button and suddenly, soft instrumental music filled the room.

“Do you like it?” Wanda’s arms came to wrap around you from behind. Her lips placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “I know this week hasn’t been easy for you. So, I wanted to give you the most relaxing night I possibly can,” Wanda kissed your shoulder again. “And to show just how much I love you.” Her lips pressed to your neck before her hand reached up to turn your head so she could meet your lips.

“I really like it,” you whispered into the kiss. “And I love you.”

Wanda stepped back and began to undress. Even after being with her for a while, you still couldn’t help but feel a little flustered from seeing her naked form. She was almost completely undressed and you still just couldn’t take your eyes off her breathtaking form. It wasn’t until she caught you staring and threw a wink your way that you felt your face flush and you instantly turned your attention to your own clothes.

When the final piece of clothing came off, that was when you realized Wanda had moved closer to you. Her hands reached out and her finger tips traced along the sides of your stomach before she pulled your naked body into hers. Her eyes sparkled as she looked down between you two and at the small baby bump that was starting to show. In her mind, it blew her away just how lucky she was that you were actually willing to do this for her, for the two of you, for the family you now shared with her. There was nothing more beautiful than watching you carry her child. Seeing this physical reminder of that just made her want to worship you for how gorgeous you looked. You, on the other hand, felt slightly self conscious about these small changes. While the fact that you were actually starting to show made it feel more real that your family was growing, you still were unsure of how Wanda felt about these changes to your body. Wanda could sense that unsureness that you had too. But tonight, she hoped she would help put that self-consciousness at ease.

Wanda’s hand went to cup your cheek. Her loving eyes stared back at you for a moment. Her thumb brushed against your cheek gently and she gave you a soft smile. “You are so,” her voice was thick with emotion as she spoke, “so beautiful.”

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you turned your head to press a kiss to her palm, before moving to press your forehead to hers for a moment. A soft whisper of “I love you” was exchanged between the two of you before Wanda’s hand slipped back into yours and led you to the bath.

Her hand stayed in yours, steadying you even if you didn’t necessarily need it, as you stepped in. The water was the perfect temperature and you had a feeling that was just another magical perk of being with Wanda. When you had eased in and sat down, Wanda motioned for you to sit up and move to the middle so that she could step in and sit behind you. With her legs around either side of you and her arms wrapping around your waist under the water to pull you closer, you ended up with your back completely pressed against Wanda’s bare front.

Wanda’s hands urged you to lean back onto her and when you did, her hands immediately began to trace along just about any part of your body they could reach. “Are you comfortable?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Your eyes were closed and your head was resting against her. It wasn’t until she asked you again that you realized just how instantly relaxed you really were.

“Oh, mhm” you sighed happily. “Very comfortable.”

“Good,” She let out a small laugh as her hands kept slowly tracing your bare skin.

When her fingers brushed against your nipples, the small gasp that left your lips did not go unnoticed by Wanda. That small reaction alone absolutely floored her. She needed to hear you make that sound again. It had only been a week since she last was able to draw a sound like that from you, but to her a week without having you like this was a long time. So, her fingers circled your nipple, this time with more intention. And, just as she hoped, a small gasp left your lips yet again.

You were surprised by just how sensitive you were. One little touch of your nipples and you were already struggling not to whine and moan? Yes, you could be quite vocal and needy when it came to being with Wanda, but it wasn’t usually this easy for her to get a reaction out of you. Although, you were also well aware that it had been a week since you last let Wanda touch you and your hormones were going crazy. Pregnancy really did a lot to a person’s body and one thing you didn’t expect was to be crazy horny more often than you usually are. And with Wanda… that was usually pretty damn often. Except, your insecurities had started to win here and there this week. Plus you really were struggling just a bit more with fatigue and other not-so-fun pregnancy things. So, those things had kept you from actually acting on some of the things your pregnant, hormonal body was screaming at you for.

But now, Wanda was being so sweet and romantic. All your insecurities melted away with just the way Wanda looked at you before you two even got into the bath. The bath itself was helping too. All the aches in your body felt like they were distant memories the moment your body was engulfed in the warm water. On top of all that, you had the house and Wanda all to yourself. That was a rare luxury with the boys. Not that it stopped you both from just about anything, you just had to learn how to be more discreet. When were you going to have another chance like this, though? Certainly, nights with just you and Wanda in the house would be increasingly rare once the new baby comes.

Wanda’s hands were now fully cupping your breasts. Your eyes were closed and you squirmed in the tub, pressing your legs together as you felt her roll your nipples between her fingers. You were completely aware of the way her bare body felt against your back and that sensation alone was causing the ache between your legs to get worse.

Without even having to ask, Wanda knew to move her hand where you needed it. Even as she played with one of your nipples, while her other hand was busy spreading your legs as best she could in the tub, her touch was still gentle. You felt utter admiration and love in the way she whispered soft praises as her hand finally cupped your pussy under the water. When you felt two of her fingers press ever so gently to your clit, your body tensed for a second and low whine fell from your lips.

“Shh,” Wanda cooed into your ear from behind. “Let me take care of you.”

With your eyes still squeezed shut, you nodded your head and gave in to the feeling of Wanda playing with your clit and switching between both your nipples.

Your head fell back on Wanda’s bare shoulder as her fingers kept rubbing against your clit. Your eyes were still closed and your lips were parted as small sighs of pleasure kept falling from them. One of your hands had a grip of the edge of the tub, but the other came up to intertwine with Wanda’s as she moved it from your breasts. The whole time Wanda kept steady pressure on your clit, she was also softly whispering even more praises about how good you were doing. How much she loved seeing you like this. How she couldn’t wait to get you out of the tub so she could see you naked and spread open on her bed.

The feeling of Wanda’s fingers was intoxicating and it only added to everything to feel her wet, naked body against your back too. You were fully leaning into Wanda as she touched you. Your hips were no longer still and were starting to slowly grind up into the way her fingers were working on your clit. The familiar feeling was building inside you and your small sighs turned into louder whines and moans as she kept up with what she was doing to your clit.

As you felt yourself build up and up, you couldn’t take it anymore and reached behind you for a fist full of Wanda’s hair. Wanda leaned forward just as you tugged her closer and turned your head. When your lips met in a heated kiss that’s when her fingers picked up the pace. She felt your hand squeeze the one that was still intertwined with hers and she knew you were two seconds away from that edge. When she applied more pressure, your body tensed and you let out a final desperate whine against her lips. Your hand squeezed tighter against hers as you came, but she kept a hold of you, letting you ride out your orgasm.

After a minute your body completely collapsed back into Wanda and her hand moved from between your legs to wrap around your waist and pull you even closer.

“How are you feeling?” Wanda asked after placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“Good…” You were still trying to catch your breath. “Great actually.”

“Yeah?” You felt Wanda smile against your bare skin and you nodded, your body relaxing even more against her. The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, relaxing in the still warm water with Wanda’s arms wrapped around you. After a while, both of you decided to get out.

Wanda, again, made sure to keep you steady as you got out of the bath. With a towel already wrapped around herself, she made sure to wrap you up within a split second of the cold air hitting your wet body. You both smiled and giggled with each other as each of you attempted to dry the other off.

Neither of you bothered to put clothes of any kind back on when you were both nice and dry. The both of you knew tonight wasn’t quite over yet, and your body still craved way more from Wanda than the one, albeit amazing, orgasm she did give you.

When you both were done with the bath, Wanda sat you gently on the bed as she began to move the candles from the bathroom to the bedroom, as well as the speaker she had for the instrumental music that was still playing. The romantic mood from the bath you shared was effectively recreated in your shared bedroom and you couldn’t help but smile at Wanda as you watched her fuss over small details. The way she looked, as she made sure the candles were positioned just right, the glow of their flame plus the moonlight coming from the window, was stunning. Wanda always said that you looked like you were glowing, even before you knew you were actually pregnant with her child, but she was glowing too. You made a mental note to tell her more about how beautiful she was, just like she would remind you.

When the room was finally ready, Wanda walked up to where you sat on the bed and leaned down to kiss you. Your hands immediately grabbed at her bare hips, pulling her closer and parting your lips for her tongue to gently run against your own. The soft sigh she let out as she felt your tongue against hers was intoxicating and it immediately made you want to hear more. However, you also desperately wanted to feel Wanda touch you more, or at least to feel her finally inside you. Rarely did you specifically ask for what you wanted, always struggling with being too shy, but tonight you had something very specific in mind that you think the both of you would enjoy.

Pulling back from the kiss you looked up at Wanda who was looking at you with a blush across her face and lust in her eyes. She knew just by the way you looked at her, that you wanted something.

“What is it, my love?” She gave you a knowing smile. Excitement grew in her eyes as she watched you struggle to get over your shyness. She loved seeing you communicate what you wanted from her. It was hard to coax out of you, but it was a huge turn on for her when she finally got you to admit it.

“Would you um…” You bit your lip, feeling your face flush more before you even got the words out. Really you shouldn’t be shy about this anymore, but you couldn’t help it. “Tonight, could we use the…”

“The what, baby?” Wanda’s eyes sparkled as she watched you struggle to get the word out. She knew exactly what you wanted and she loved when you asked for it.

“You know what I’m talking about,” you pouted. Wanda was going to give you a harder time, but any time she saw you pout she’d instantly cave. It wasn’t fair really.

“Do I?” She kept teasing, not quite ready to let you off the hook. “You could want a number of things. But I think I do know.” Her grin grew as she watched you squirm. “Is it that you want my cock again?”

Your face was bright red at this point and despite covering it with your hands, you still nodded.

Wanda just let out an amused chuckle in response, but you knew by the way she was shifting where she stood that you were going to get exactly what you wanted. “Alright,” Wanda began, “but if you want this, we’re going to go carefully and slowly”

You nodded eagerly, waiting for Wanda to do her thing and put on the magic toy you both loved so much. “We’ll go carefully,” you agreed, trying to reassure Wanda so she’d make a move.

“And slowly,” she corrected.

“And slowly,” you nodded again, still eager for Wanda to conjure up the toy.

“And you’re going to ride me.”

“And I’m going to r–” you paused as the words sank in. “Wait what?!”

Wanda gave you a devilish grin. “Yes, you’re going to ride me. Listen, this way you can set the pace and we can make sure nothing gets too out of control.” By nothing, Wanda meant herself. Before you were pregnant, any time she used the enchanted strap-on she created for the two of you, it didn’t take her long to get a little… overly enthusiastic. No matter how many times she’s fucked you with it, she hasn’t gotten used to the fact that she can actually feel herself inside you. Any time you start to get close, a part of her loses it just a little bit, and she struggles with the urge to just fuck you into the mattress. Usually, you have no quarrels about letting her do exactly that, but right now things are different. You were more fragile. She couldn’t risk the safety of you or her unborn child just because she can’t control herself. The best solution, in Wanda’s mind, is to have you in control. Hopefully, it’ll be easier to control her constant need to ruin you when she can feel herself inside you, if you’re using this toy with you in charge.

“I– Wanda, I haven’t done that before.” To Wanda, you looked so cute when you were nervous like this. Her hands reached to cup your face and you didn’t put up a protest when she pulled you in for a breathtaking kiss. Her tongue immediately licked into your mouth and you moaned against hers as it did. Your hands grabbed at her naked body as she tilted your head back and kissed you harder. Suddenly, she was moving while she was kissing you. Her knees went onto the bed on either side of you and you realized she was straddling your waist.

Your mind short circuited for a minute and your hands grabbed harder at her as she kept kissing you. Her naked body pressed down against yours and for the first time, you felt how wet she was as her pussy pressed to your thigh. You didn’t even care about the whines that were being suppressed by Wanda’s lips as you felt her start to grind down. But all too soon, Wanda broke the kiss.

“See,” She said breathlessly, “Just do this…” Wanda dragged her body against your thigh again and you groaned at the feeling. All you could think to do was nod as your eyes fell between your bodies to watch the way she was moving. Wanda was breathing hard as she continued to grind slowly against you. “Are you ready to try?” Wanda stilled her movement and you swallowed hard, trying to muster up more courage. You didn’t want her to stop what she was doing, but you also desperately wanted to feel her inside you and that feeling was growing by the second.

“Yes, I’m ready.” You practically sounded like you were pleading with her, even though you were trying to keep your cool.

“Good girl,” Wanda kissed your lips again before crawling off of you. You watched with curiosity as she got comfortable on the bed, leaning herself against the headboard. With another wave of her hand, suddenly the thing you’d been waiting all night for was right in front of you, with the straps already tightly attached to Wanda’s hips. “Now,” Wanda’s eyes were dark and her grin was wide as she looked at you. “Come here.”

You could feel your heart rate pick up just by looking at the sight in front of you. Wanda had her hands folded behind her head as she rested against the headboard. Her legs were spread and in between them was the crimson strap-on you loved so much, even if you still weren’t quite used to the size. To ride it seemed daunting, but as Wanda waited for you with a hungry look in your eye, it was all you wanted to do.

With a little bit of hesitation, you crawled to where she was on the bed. “Take it slowly,” she instructed as you began to mount her. Her hands moved from behind her head to rest on your hips. You felt her gently guiding you so that you were steady as you started to line her strap up with your entrance.

“That’s it,” she practically groaned as she felt your wetness against her enchanted toy.

“Fuck…” you muttered under your breath as you started to slowly lower yourself onto it. The size was still hard to take, but as it stretched your walls it still felt incredibly good.

When you were finally all the way down, your thighs flush with Wanda’s hips, her hands tightened their grip on you. You didn’t move for a minute, just watching in awe as Wanda clearly reacted to the feeling of being inside you. Her breathing picked up and her eyes grew darker as she looked back at you. Eventually, you experimentally picked yourself up only slightly and then ground back down onto her cock. The movement was not lost on Wanda; her nails immediately dug into your skin when she felt it.

With a sudden burst of confidence, you started to move, rocking your hips against Wanda’s as she sat below you and just let you ride. She felt every single thrust though, and it took every ounce of strength in her not to lose control like she wanted to. Her instincts were screaming at her to just flip you over and fuck you until you had tears in yours eyes. However, she knew that wasn’t a good idea, not when you were more fragile right now. So instead, she held onto you tightly and let you ride her.

As you picked up the pace, Wanda’s head fell back against the headboard. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her lip was between her teeth. She was breathing hard at this point too and you started to notice the way her hips would jump with each time you pressed yourself down hard against her cock. Eventually, you felt her hands tugging at you and you realized it was her way of moving you faster.

“Fuck baby,” Wanda groaned between pants. “You feel so good.” Her eyes were open again and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as you kept fucking yourself on top of her. The way she looked right now was a rare sight. Usually, you were too busy getting lost in the way Wanda made you feel to watch her lose control because of you and it was making you even more wet as you rode her.

Wanda could already feel your wetness drip down her cock and onto her bare thighs. That plus the way you let out moan after moan with each time she moved her hips and fucked up inside of you was driving her crazy. She hated to admit it, but she was so fucking close already. She was feeling you squeeze against her cock more and more with each time you practically bounced on top of her. At first, she wanted to make you cum one more time before she came with you, but that wasn’t going to happen. Wanda severely underestimated just how fucking good you’d look fucking yourself on her cock like this.

Suddenly, as you felt Wanda’s thighs begin to twitch underneath you, she surged up. Her arms came to wrap fully around your waist and her hips began moving up harder and faster into you. Your body immediately fell forward, overwhelmed by how hard her cock was pumping into you. Your eyes closed and your face buried into her neck. Wanda felt your nails scratch at her back as she kept a fast pace, pulling your entire body to fuck yourself faster on her cock.

“Fuck fuck,” Wanda groaned as she kept pumping her hips up to fuck you harder. “Like that baby, keep riding my cock.” You tried your best to speed up, but at this point Wanda was practically just fucking you onto her cock herself. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m going to cum inside you.”

“Please,” you moaned. Your only thoughts now were of how badly you wanted her to cum and how badly you wanted to cum with her. Suddenly, Wanda used all her strength to pump her cock harder up into you a few more times before, finally, you felt her warm cum fill your pussy. With a loud cry, you followed after, coming hard on top of her. She could feel a mix of both your and her cum dripping down the strap and onto her lap.

Eventually, her movements slowed until she felt your body completely relax against hers. Both of you were breathing hard as you tried to come down from your orgasms. Wanda’s hands found their way to your hair, stroking gently while she placed a few light kisses to your shoulder and then your neck up to your jaw.

“How are you feeling?” She mumbled against your skin.

“Mm, good,” you breathed. “A little worn out.” Usually, you could go a few more times, but you wanted to be honest. Your stamina and energy wasn’t what it used to be and you definitely understood that it was the pregnancy.

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up?” Wanda kissed your lips briefly before gently moving you up and off her strap. With a flick of her wrist it disappeared from her hips and the both of you looked down. “I think I might need another bath,” she chuckled.

You looked back up at her sheepishly. “Can I join again?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she grinned before hopping up from the bed. Her hand slipped into yours and she helped steady you when you stood up on shaky legs. “Plus, I’m not done spoiling you. I promised the boys I’d take care of you. It was the only way they agreed to go to the sleepover.”

She stopped for a moment and pressed a hand to your stomach, her eyes shining with so much love as she looked down at your small baby bump. “And you and their new sister deserve the absolute best care in the world.”

You smiled as you watched Wanda admire you and the changes your body was experiencing. You knew you weren’t just in for a night of love and care from her, but a whole lifetime. Not just from her, but from the whole family you now shared with her.

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cece693 · 4 months ago

Note

PLEASE MORE ASGARDIAN M!READER!!!

May I suggest a fic where the reader wants to bond closely to Wanda and Natasha but, is afraid because their only concept of sister relationships was Hela (reader is a little scared of Hela 😔 due to her destructive nature). Can I also add that the reader has slightly long hair (shoulder length) to braid!

Thank you for your talent and dedication!

He's Cute (Pt. 1.5)

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: wanda and natasha are the best, sibling duo, getting ready for the date, hints of WandaNat/ScarletWidow, bucky being adorably smitten, yes 1.5 cause pt. 2 is the actual date :)

You fiddled nervously with the ends of your hair, pacing the length of your borrowed bedroom in the Avengers Compound for what felt like the hundredth time. Today was the day: your very first official Earth date. With none other than Bucky Barnes. Just the thought of it sent a rush of excitement (and panic) through your veins.

The problem? You had no clue how to prepare for a Midgardian date. A tunic and breeches might scream ‘medieval faire,’ and your more formal Asgardian garb would be even more intimidating. What if Bucky took one look at you and decided you were too over-the-top or—in the worst scenario—ran for the hills? Then there was your hair. Should you leave it loose? Tie it back? Attempt some elaborate braid?

What if I make a total fool of myself? you thought, tugging on your hair with a frustrated groan. You considered consulting Thor—briefly—until your imagination conjured an image of him bellowing, “Wear your finest Asgardian leathers!” and slapping you on the back so hard you’d stumble. Not exactly helpful.

You also thought about Tony or Steve, but quickly dismissed those options. Tony might tease you relentlessly, and while Steve was sweet, he was probably as clueless as you when it came to modern dating intricacies.

That left two people you admired from a (sometimes intimidated) distance: Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff. You’d seen how confident and stylish they both were—able to slip into a gown or tactical gear with equal flair. If anyone can help me blend Asgardian flair with Midgard style, you reasoned, it’s them.

Trouble was, the concept of “sisterly” assistance made your stomach twist. Your only sisterly figure had been Hela—and she was the embodiment of destructive chaos. Whenever you thought of “sisterly bonds,” images of shadowy blades and a mocking sneer intruded on your mind. Still, you had no one else to turn to, and time was running out.

It didn’t take long to find them. Wanda lounged on a couch, sipping tea and reading a worn paperback. Natasha reclined in an armchair nearby, scrolling through her phone. They exuded a relaxed warmth that made your nerves surge all over again—how did you even start this conversation?

Wanda glanced up first, her warm eyes creasing in a small smile. “Oh! (Y/N), did you need something?”

Natasha flicked her gaze over to you, phone still in hand. “You look like you’re either about to faint or confess a murder. Everything okay?”

Embarrassed, you rubbed the back of your neck. “I—I’m sorry to interrupt. I know you’re both probably busy, but I…I have a date. With Bucky,” you added softly, feeling your cheeks heat at the admission. “And I have no idea what to wear or how to do my hair, or—anything, really.”

Wanda’s eyebrows rose, and a slow grin spread across her face. “A date with Bucky? That’s adorable.”

Natasha set aside her phone, crossing her arms. “So you want a bit of a makeover?”

You cleared your throat, nerves clashing with relief. “Yes. Please. I don’t know how Earth dates usually go. I’m used to, well…armor and father-gifts, and illusions if I want to ‘dress up.’ But that’s not exactly the vibe here.”

Both women chuckled at that. Natasha stood and motioned for Wanda to follow. “Come on, let’s get you set up. And don’t worry—you’re not bothering us. We’d love to help you not show up to your date in full Asgardian regalia.”

Natasha led you to what appeared to be a converted storage room. Racks of clothing lined the walls, and a couple of tall dressers stood at one end. You caught glimpses of everything from formal evening wear to casual street clothes—no doubt a stockpile from Tony’s various shopping sprees.

“Okay,” Natasha declared, scanning the racks. “We need something comfortable but sharp. You want to catch Bucky’s eye without screaming I’m a prince from another realm.”

Wanda’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Though, honestly, you could show up in a paper bag and he’d probably swoon.”

You felt your cheeks flame. “I—um, I just don’t want to look foolish.”

Natasha brushed aside a row of jackets. “We won’t let that happen. Trust us. Let’s see…” She paused, sizing you up. “You’ve got a good build—broad shoulders, trim waist. We should highlight that. Maybe a well-fitted shirt.”

Wanda’s gaze flicked between you and Natasha. “Oooh, yes. And if we can find a color that brings out his eyes…” She rummaged through a section of button-downs.

That left you standing there, feeling slightly awkward, as they pulled items from hangers and debated the merits of each. You shifted from foot to foot, your anxiety creeping in. This is far less terrifying than dealing with Hela, right? you told yourself. And yet, your heart hammered in your chest.

Eventually, Wanda triumphantly held up a simple, fitted gray button-down. “This might do,” she said, pressing it to your torso. “It’s not flashy, but it’ll look nice with your coloring.”

Natasha grabbed a pair of dark jeans from the next rack. “Try these on. We’ll see if they fit. If they’re too baggy, we’ve got more.”

Clutching the clothes, you ducked behind a folding screen in the corner. The chatter on the other side continued quietly:

“You think Bucky’s actually ready for a date?” Wanda whispered. “Oh, I’m sure he’s ready,” Natasha replied in the same hushed tone. “Steve says he's been looking at the clock constantly and somehow managed to trip over his own feet. He's more than ready."

Their amused banter made you smile—clearly, Bucky was as worked up about this as you were. That was comforting.

You slid into the jeans and button-down, surprised at how well everything fit. They weren’t Asgardian leathers, but the fabric was soft and flexible, hugging you just right. You stepped out self-consciously. “Well? How do I look?”

Wanda gasped softly, covering her mouth. “(Y/N), you look amazing!”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, arms folded. “Yeah, that’ll do. Sleeves up—roll them a bit. Show off those forearms. Trust me.”

Blushing, you obeyed, feeling a little self-conscious and a little flattered. “You really think Bucky will like it?”

“Absolutely,” Wanda replied, beaming. “He’d have to be blind not to notice how good you look.”

Natasha pretended to examine your outfit with a critical eye, but you noticed a small, knowing smile playing at her lips. Then her gaze flicked to Wanda, and they shared a subtle look—one that made your cheeks flush a second time. You weren’t sure, but it almost seemed like there was a soft warmth passing between the two women, a private understanding that neither was voicing.

Then came the matter of your hair. It fell around your shoulders, a bit unruly from the stress of pacing your room all day. You lifted a lock, hesitating. “Normally, if this were a formal Asgardian function, I’d wear a crown braid or decorative metal clasps that sparkle with runes. But that’s probably too fancy, right?”

Wanda stepped closer, gently running her fingers through your hair in a way that felt surprisingly soothing. “Yes. Maybe we could do a simple side-braid, just enough to keep it out of your face. Or tuck it behind your ears. You have a nice jawline, so let’s show it.”

Natasha approached with a comb and some small hair ties, exchanging that same subtle smile with Wanda as they both set to work. You couldn’t help but notice the soft brush of Wanda’s hand, the way Natasha’s posture angled toward her whenever they spoke. Something about their easy familiarity and gentleness felt domestic, like they’d done this a hundred times…maybe even for each other.

“Relax,” Natasha murmured, positioning you to face a mirror. “We won’t do anything too elaborate. Just enough to keep Bucky’s eyes on you, not on how complicated your hairstyle is.”

Wanda’s lips curved into a playful smirk. “Though he’ll definitely be looking either way.”

They worked in tandem, brushing, smoothing, and expertly twisting a small section of hair into a neat side-braid. With each gentle tug, your tension melted. It felt so normal, to be fussed over by these two formidable Avengers, whose reputations alone could strike fear into entire enemy organizations. Yet here they were, braiding your hair and chatting like older sisters might.

Every so often, you caught a flicker of something more than platonic in their glances—maybe the way Wanda’s hand lingered on Natasha’s wrist when passing a hair clip, or the private smiles they exchanged. It was fleeting, but definitely there. You wondered if you were witnessing the beginnings of something deeper between them—or perhaps it had been there all along, carefully kept behind the scenes.

Finally, Wanda tucked the last strand into place, and Natasha stepped back, admiring their work. “Alright, pretty boy. Check it out.”

You moved to the mirror, heart fluttering in anticipation. The reflection that stared back looked…well, incredible. The blazer fit perfectly, highlighting your form without overpowering your frame. The rolled sleeves revealed just enough forearm to be intriguing, and the subtle side-braid left most of your hair loose but framed your face nicely.

Your mouth fell open. “I—I look…”

“Really, really handsome,” Wanda finished, placing a gentle hand on your back.

Natasha’s smile softened. “You do. And trust me, Bucky will probably forget how to speak for a minute when he sees you.”

A mixture of pride and embarrassment bloomed in your chest. “Thank you. Honestly, I feel so confident. I’ve never had that before.”

Wanda wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Of course. You’re about to go on a date, not face a war. It should be fun.”

Natasha’s gaze turned momentarily serious. “But if he does anything to make you uncomfortable—pressures you, upsets you—” She paused, letting the threat linger, “—I will personally have words with him.”

“And by ‘words,’ she means possibly an entire display of violence,” Wanda teased, but her eyes held a protective glint.

You laughed nervously, appreciating the concern. “I—I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Bucky’s so gentle. But...thank you, just the same.”

Natasha nodded firmly. “We look out for our own. And that includes you.”

Your heart swelled at the sentiment—so this was what a supportive sisterly bond could be, untainted by destruction and usurpation. After some final adjustments (Natasha insisted on adjusting your collar just so, and Wanda fussed with a stray hair you couldn’t see), the two women gave you a double thumbs-up.

“Go knock him dead—figuratively,” Wanda teased. “This is Earth, after all.” Halfway to the front entrance, you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Wanda and Natasha standing side by side, exchanging soft smiles. Wanda murmured something, and Natasha’s cheeks tinted the faintest pink before she turned away.

Maybe I’m not the only one with a new romance on the horizon, you mused, feeling a rush of fondness for both of them.

When you finally reached the main entrance, there was Bucky—hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders tense. The moment his eyes landed on you, all that tension melted. A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face, and you swore you saw a slight flush creep up his neck.

“Wow,” he breathed, stepping closer. “You look amazing.”

Your cheeks warmed, but this time it was with genuine confidence. “Thanks. Wanda and Nat helped.”

He nodded, seemingly at a loss for words. “Remind me to, uh…thank them later.”

You chuckled softly. “I’ll let them know.”

The two of you exchanged a few shy glances, the air charged with a thrilling sense of possibility. Bucky offered his arm in that old-fashioned way you found so endearing, and you slipped yours through it, feeling a jolt of warmth as your elbow linked with his. “You ready?” he asked, voice tinged with nervous excitement.

You smiled. “I am.”

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randomshyperson · 2 years ago

Text

Best (Girl)Friends - Wanda Maximoff x Rogers!Reader

Summary: Wanda sympathizes with your willpower. 70 years on ice is a long time to wait for an intimate touch. And being the good friend that she is, Wanda offers you some help.

Warnings: (+18), some vague plot, smut with virginity loss, Rogers!Reader following all Wanda’s wishes, power bottom!Wanda, kissing, friends to lovers, mutual pining, explicit consent but Wanda being a tease and a bit possessive. | Words: 4.893k

A/-N-> I’m pretty sure this was a request, but I couldn’t find it anywhere.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |

-&-

Shield acted as if they won the lottery.

In a way, it felt like that. Two Rogers siblings found on the same day would probably yield some promotions within the teams responsible, and a nice image bonus with the US government.

But while Captain America was found in a negative temperature on the other side of the planet, his sister destroyed an entire building with her sudden appearance inside a blue explosion a few hours later.

In your defense, you had no idea what was about to happen.

One minute, you were inside a Howard Stark-designed marine suit at the bottom of the ocean. But in Shield's defense, you were disobeying the orders of your director, that is, Margaret Carter on the phone, who five minutes earlier insisted that she would not risk losing another Rogers and that reaching the cube was not worth the risk to your safety, but you still put on the prototype underwater suit and dived in search of the item, which, to you, was the key to finding your brother.

You were right, in a way. Touching the cube with the determined idea that you would like to see Steve again really worked. The problem was how it happened.

The explosion was all around you, and you saw nothing but the beam of blue light that forced you to close your eyes. One moment you were deep in the sea, and the next you were in the middle of one of the Shield Secret Bases, a thousand of bricks flying around with the force of the explosion.

Your presence in the secret room of Project PEGASUS caused Shield to be on high alert, and a dozen rifles to be pointed in your face.

But it was all cleared up in no time and ended with your figure handcuffed on the seat of a government Jet on its way to New York.

Unlike Steve, you were awake. And not the least bit in the mood to follow Nick Fury's theatrical demands.

"That's to avoid shock, Miss Rogers-"

"Absolutely not, Nicholas." You cut him off impatiently, your hands-free since Shield had clarified exactly who you were. "The first thing I'm saying to my brother won't be a lie."

Nick sighed. "I understand it's a delicate situation, Miss, but Captain Rogers has been frozen for too long. An innocent fantasy is meant to lessen the shock of the truth."

You skirted Nick without caring about the speech. "There's no way to lighten news like this one. We're both in the future, for Chris’s sake! That it's absurd enough. No more lies, and let me see my brother for once. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for that."

Fury didn't have the heart to insist, not only because he had another supersoldier getting him out of the way, but because of the emotion in your voice. He waved in dismissal to any soldier more curious about your determined walk, and no one interfered as you made your way to the room where they placed your brother.

Shield had begun to create a scenario around him that made you chuckle in irony. You dismissed the agent posing as a nurse with a look, and Nick allowed you to be alone in the room, and without wasting any time, you made your way to the bed.

Steve looked the same as he did the day he disappeared, and you felt a sob break in your throat. Maybe the sound woke him up.

He opened confused eyes at you, and unlike him, you had aged a lot since the last time he had seen you when you were still a child.

"Hey, Stevie." Your greeting came hoarsely, laden with emotion. Steve took a moment to recognize you.

"Y/N?" He asked, tense and startled. You could almost see the gears of his brain working, the way he tried to recognize his surroundings as well. "God, how long have I...?"

"Longer than you can imagine, big brother. Much longer." You replied before hugging him tightly.

This must have been the last entirely friendly interaction you had with your brother, a reunion bittersweet for its peculiarities that was unable to conciliate years of differences between the two of you. Nor did the ice erase your hurt over Steve sending you away from the war when your parents passed away, or make you forget the years of training and working for Shield in search of him once you were back in Brooklyn. Nor did it change Steve's view of how he wanted to protect and keep out of trouble - which included superhero work - his younger sister who he had vowed to take care of.

But it was indeed an undeniable amusement to the rest of the team that the personalities of the Rogers siblings were so blatantly different, and it caused some apprehension every time Steve had to witness you leaving the tower in some sports car borrowed from Tony Stark while dressed in leather jackets borrowed from Natasha Romanoff.

The apex that you were entirely corrupted for all that he expected from a proper 1950s girl came in the addition of a certain angry witch to the team a while later.

Of course, the close age - if one ignores the years between the time jump and your arrival - you and Wanda had made your friendship an inevitability. But this doesn't mean that witnessing your clear crush on the new Avenger wasn't giving your older brother a headache.

Natasha thinks he deserved some credit. Considering he was a white man from the 1950s who was frozen before appearing in a new century, Steve was pretty open-minded. She was pretty sure this was due to the closet years of keeping a secret crush on his best friend, but she wouldn't be mean enough to torment Steve with that.

And besides this, you were also getting used to the new century. And with the possibility of being able to have feelings for Wanda in an open and free way, so different from the world you lived in before.

The witch, on the other hand, had the greatest of fun tormenting you as much as she could while she waited for you to be ready.

And these teases came at every opportunity Wanda could take, from summer days at the tower pool where she had an excuse to wear bikinis around you and make a complete mess of you with the "friendly cuddling" which is how she came to justify the fact that your room was hers now and that there was nothing more platonical than sleeping cuddled up to your best friend.

With each passing moment, you grew comfortable and certain in your own feelings, parallel to which you became more confident in your powers and Wanda began to feel that the tables were turning on her every time a tickle war ended with you using your super-strength to pin her to the bed or you could effortlessly carry her away from a training session or conflict.

It didn't take long for the situation to become unbearable - Wanda was sure she would combust in the next cuddling session if she felt your body against hers again without that leading to what she really wanted, so now she had to take drastic action.

Communication was always the key to everything.

"Have you ever had sex?"

Your cell phone fell hard on your face. Wanda giggled at the mirror reflection: she was on her back brushing her hair and stealing glances at your figure lying on the bed, still learning to use the current technology but definitely loving the whole thing.

Snorting in embarrassment, you pushed the electronic device down onto the mattress and massaged your sore face. "I'm beginning to think you enjoy seeing me like this."

"What do you mean?" She asks innocently, turning her attention to the ring drawer.

"Disconcerted."

Wanda chuckles mischievously, running her fingers through the options and trying to decide between the items as you stare at the ceiling. "I know you're like 100 years old, but won’t you tell me that it never happened? Not even when you became a hottie super soldier?"

You grunted in shame, covering your face with your arm. Wanda giggled again, this time putting on one of the silver rings. You were too far away to notice how her fingers were slightly trembling, giving away how she was equally affected by the conversation. But unlike you, Wanda knew how to keep it cool very well.

"Wandaaa." You grumbled, and she almost dropped the subject when you added. "No."

"No, what?"

With a sigh, you removed your arm from in front of your face but didn't risk looking at her. "Back then...I just, I didn't have the courage I guess. You know, girls were supposed to be virgins to marry, in theory. And well, I wasn't going to marry anyone because I was too busy working. And when I got into the army, the vast majority of the guys I knew started looking at me with contempt and indignation, and then came the serum I just...didn't know how to handle the attention."

Wanda spun the stool she was sitting on toward you, listening closely to your words.

You sighed shyly. "I mean I had opportunities, but I just didn't feel comfortable following them. I wanted... to be with someone who liked me. Not the super serum, you know? Most people were only talking to me because of it. They hoped to gain some kind of benefit from meeting the American Soldier. I don't know, maybe it's just me trying not to sound so... cowardly."

Wanda stood up with a sigh, and you swallowed dryly, keeping your gaze on the ceiling until her face appear in your field of vision.

"Detka, you are literally the bravest person I know." Reminded the witch, bringing a small smile to you. "And there's nothing wrong with not being ready, or waiting for the right person. Sex is intimate, it makes sense that you want it to happen with someone you like and who likes you back."

"Thank you for being understanding." You muttered, swallowing dryly when instead of returning to her previous activities, Wanda sat down on the bed next to you. With a sigh and shifting your gaze to the ceiling again, you ventured, "Have you?"

Wanda's teasing giggle brought a deep color to your face. "Have I what?"

Snorting, you retorted, "Come on, you're the one who brought this up."

Wanda pinched you gently on the belly, smiling at your complaint. “A few times, actually.'"

It made no sense at all to feel jealous of a time you didn't even know her, and that you were somehow in the past, but still, a bitter burn filled your stomach. Wanda, the telepath that she was, seemed to know exactly what you were thinking, and without caring whether it would make your heart stop or not, approached you to use your torso as her personal pillow. With two legs on which side of your hips, she stared down at you.

"But it was nothing outstanding." She began, using her fingertips to wander all the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders through your pajamas and having the best time in the world in watching every single hair of you shiver. "I kept making the same mistake in settling down for mediocre sex. No real feelings, no passion, much less love. Always end up frustrated and having to finish the job alone."

You frowned in confusion. "Alone...?" But it only took one look from Wanda for you to understand what she meant and choke, your face pink again. The younger girl giggled, leaning her elbow on you to rest her chin on her own hand and take a closer look.

"Eyes on me, baby." She asked, hoping you would overcome your own shyness to do so. When you follow her request, Wanda was ready to risk everything. "You know I love you, don't you?"

You sighed, nodding. "I love you too, Wanda." Your confession was huskier than hers, and she had to ignore the sincerity of what that really meant in order to stay focused on that afternoon's goal. "Kind of the essential thing on the best friend package, isn't it?"

Wanda chuckled, rolling her eyes.

Of course, you would make a joke to lessen the intensity of the moment, if she was nervous in all her confident glory, she could have sympathy for you, who was literally having to deal with your long-time crush practicing lying over you.

"Friends help each other, don't they? Especially best friends." She retorted, and you frowned in confusion.

"Yeah, I guess… why, did something happen?" Before your confusion could turn to worry entirely and you could finish the movement of getting up, Wanda pressed her hands on your shoulders and pushed you back on the mattress. "Hey." You chuckled puzzledly, but the laughter died into an affected sigh when Wanda simply shifted in your lap completely, in a very non-platonic way. "Right, whatever makes you comfortable." You mutter, very aware of the heat radiating from the girl's body on top of you, who just chuckled mischievously at your shyness.

"Relax, dorogoya." Wanda reasserted in a low, dangerously seductive voice. Her hands were on your shoulders still, rubbing your loose pajamas and somehow pushing them down to the limits, exposing as much skin as Wanda could manage. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to...but I also need you to tell me exactly what you wanna do and how ready for me you are."

Your throat went dry, and Wanda's dilated pupils were not helping the words to form. She bit her lip, seeming to have the best time with your clumsiness.

"I-I... god, Wanda..." You gasped and she leaned in completely until her breath was hitting your cheek.

"How about a kiss? Don't tell me you never got one?" She mocked and you had to chuckle dryly.

"You can be quite an ass, Maximoff." You murmured with your eyes closed, risking moving your hands to her thighs around your hips, the action making you both hold your breaths for a second. "I've kissed before."

"Hmm, I see." She hits back, deviating from the original path and letting her mouth tease your jaw, feeling your hands squeeze her thighs gently with every kiss across your skin. What Wanda wouldn't do to see you lose control...

"I like kissing." You confess hoarsely, mostly because she’s making you so nervous that the words are simply spilling. You kept your eyes closed and your neck stretched to give her more room to don’t stop. Aware of your words, Wanda hums again as she keeps depositing chaste kisses on your collarbone. "I like...kissing girls."

It should be a heartfelt confession, one that Wanda theoretically knew about but that you've never put into words before. But suddenly, Wanda bit down on you, hard enough for you to grunt in pain, opening your eyes. She grabs your cheeks with one hand, a hot fury in her eyes that makes you shudder.

"Rule number one, don't talk about other girls when you have one on top of you."

You open your mouth like a fish, babbling nonsense for enough time for Wanda to make a motion of leaving. But that makes you react. "I didn't mean to upset you!" You try quickly, hands moving on an instinct to hold her by the waist on top of you. Wanda has to bite her lips hard to keep from letting out a much more submissive sound than she would like when you just squeeze her firmly to keep her there. "Wanda, please forgive me! I-you caught me off guard, alright? I’m nervous… We’re friends and suddenly… you’re so close and I’m talking nonsense! Please, just… tell me what you want to hear.”

She huffs impatiently, crossing her arms and turning her face away as you sigh in defeat. Wanda wants to be annoyed, but you're so lovely when you lean your face into her, trying to ease her anger with chaste kisses on her cheeks and neck until you manage to get from her a stubborn smile. She has no choice but to uncross her arms to slide her hands up your shoulders, wrapping herself around your body again.

She feels you smile and relax completely, the kisses getting firmer on her neck until they tickle and elicit a husky giggle from her. Still, Wanda settles a hand in your hair, and the slight tug to bring your faces close together again draws a deep sigh from you.

"I don't want to hear about other girls, detka. This is your last warning." She says seriously with eyes glowing red for a moment. Wanda had hoped to have a direct effect, but to her surprise, a teasing smirk began to form on your lips.

"Wow, you're totally jealous." You accused and she grimaced, trying to pull away once more. But that only made you burst out into a teasing giggle, while your strong arms wrapped around her torso, bringing her back to you effortlessly while keeping her locked into you. Wanda was clearly aware of how shaky her legs were with the motion, and trying to walk away again would only result in her falling to the ground. "Wanda, darling, the girls I kissed must be a hundred years old by now."

Reluctantly and with a rosy tinge in her cheeks, she mutters, "Honestly, I was hoping to be your first." Her confession makes you rise your eyebrows in surprise, only to smile fondly next. Your hands moved again, caressing her back in an attempt to relax her as well.

"Hey, look at me." You call out gently, waiting for the girl's stubbornness to subside with the help of your caresses. Wanda has a stronger color on her face when she finally raises her eyes to you again. "I didn't imagine this was anything of relevance to you. But I haven't lied before, I've never been with someone intimately. If you still want to, you can be my first... everything else."

She twitches her nose softly. "You’re making it sound like it’s a favor for me. I only want to... if you do too." She retorts with a certain determination in her gaze, and though you feel your cheeks burn with the ultimatum, you nod foolishly before breaking the distance.

It catches Wanda by surprise, the sudden kiss, and you're despairing when she doesn't respond immediately, pulling away at the same speed you approached. "Sorry." You say mortified and breathless, your lips tingling. "I like you, Wan. I really do. I just thought you should know before..."

She places a finger over yours, shushing your nervous anticipation. Her free hand goes to your cheek and Wanda pulls you close again, her eyes darkening in a way that makes you shiver entirely.

"Like I said before, just relax, baby. Stop overthinking." She whispers before she firms her mouth over yours. It's a sensual, intense kiss unlike any you've ever received. Wanda seems determined to drive you to complete insanity. She kisses you unhurried, waiting for permission to slide her tongue into yours, and giving you no room to breathe properly, head spinning with those new yet so familiar needy feelings. She kisses and kisses you until you're restless beneath her, your body burning and your hands curious testing limits that she doesn’t impose, only encourages you to break. Her taste and smell intoxicate your every sense, the feel of her body molded to yours, teasing your reactions and almost making you lose control of your strength. The tight squeeze you give her when she sucks your tongue earns a whimper from her that sticks and echoes in your mind, making you dizzy with lust. When she finally breaks the kiss to breathe, her lips are swollen like yours, and her pupils are so dilated that there is no green left in them. Your face burns for the matching fire you find in her gaze.

You are unable to find any words to describe this moment, so you only stare at her, blushing over the smirk that starts to form on her lips once she catches the adoring look you’re giving her.

Licking your lips to try to gain some focus, you dare to ask: “Was it…good?” You would have added “Did you like” or “Was I enough” if Wanda didn't break into a giggle that shut you entirely, your cheeks burning. Before the shame could surface, she grabbed your cheeks again. “You’re too cute, darling.” She says, kissing you again more quickly than before. Her hands move to yours then, intertwining your fingers together to drag them on her thighs, down, and then back up, this time under her skirt. Your heart stopped, and Wanda turned her dark eyes back to yours, her voice so low you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close. “Don’t be shy, see for yourself how much I like kissing you.” She whispers darkly.

When she kisses you again, her hands guide you under her skirt until you're in her front. The mere contact of your fingers with the wet spot on her panties makes you groan and break the kiss, needing a moment to just take a breath and calm your nerves. Wanda doesn't wait long, releasing your hands to move hers to your shoulders, needing firm support now that you're so close to where she needs it so badly. She gasps in surprise when your hand gives a quick tug that rips her panties off at once, a wave of new wetness running down her thighs in the same second.

You don't say anything about it, just turns your face to kiss her again, the same way she did before, and somehow even dirtier and more sexual, drawing gasps with every flick of your tongue against hers.

Because Wanda's your best friend, she wants to taunt you - tease you about being better at this than you let on, but all the words fall away at once when your fingers fill her in one go. All Wanda can do is moan, choking on the kiss as she feels you slide into her with such ease.

"Fuck, detka." She moans with her eyes tightly closed, just as she pulls away to breathe. Your response is to just continue your movements, in and out of her without haste, feeling every mention of her warm walls squeezing your fingers. Wanda is burning on top of you and the sound of her drenched pleasure echoes low. You hum contentedly, nipping at her neck as she can no longer match the kiss, so close to her own climax. Your hand adjusts, increasing its reach, and when your thumb gives her clit the attention it needs, Wanda lets out an affected squeal. "W-wanna cum, baby. Please!"

You bite back a smile, surprised and impressed by the question hidden in the statement. You adjust to face her and wait for Wanda to feel the change to look at you too. The dark, lust-filled pupils leave you breathless.

"You can cum, sweetheart, you don't even have to ask." You assure her softly, never stopping your movements inside her. "I'm here to please you." You whisper, and it's enough for Wanda to break into an affected moan, hips thrusting helplessly against your hand until she arches her back and lets out the longest, dirtiest moan you've ever heard.

Her eyes flutter shut as she rides her high on your soaked hand, until she finally opens scarlet pupils for you, a long groan leaving her lips as the last sensations of the best orgasm she ever had fade away.

Wanda turns her full attention to you in the next second, stealing quick but intense kisses until a husky giggle leaves her lips and tickles yours.

"You're too good at this for your own good." She prompts, and the compliment takes a heartfelt giggle from you. You try to relax under her gaze but Wanda's dilated eyes have a different twinkle as she holds your cheeks more firmly. "I think I want to keep you all to myself. Without sharing with anybody else. What do you say, baby?"

You swallow dry, suddenly quite vulnerable "H-hm, like... dating?" You retort in a weak tone of voice because you need to confirm and well the idea that someone as unbelievably awesome as Wanda Maximoff is actually asking for exclusivity with you seems too freaking surreal not to confirm. As many times as necessary.

Wanda giggles mischievously, settling herself on top of your fingers that never left her and sighing as she feels you even deeper than before. "Yeah, just like that." She moans, and you're not sure if she's answering your question or guiding you through the motions, but you get the impression that the answer goes both ways.

It's not like you will contradict your new girlfriend any further.

Before Wanda could indulge in the sensation again, however, she stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist. Raising curious eyes to the breathless flushed girl on top of you, your first reaction was to check if you had done something wrong, and by god, hurt her. But Wanda bit back a smile, her other hand going down to your belt.

"We're overdressed, honey." She whispered against your lips, red sparkles playing with the edge of your shirts, teasing them upward. " Strip."

Moaning low against her mouth, Wanda almost didn't let you pull away. In record time, your clothes were off and so were hers, between stolen panting kisses you fell to the mattress again, curious hands urging together.

Wanda pinned you beneath her with no effort despite your super strength, and feeling her naked against your skin drove you to the brink of insanity. She swallowed each moan with her mouth, appreciating the increasingly needy sounds as she fit against your hips, and began to move hers.

Soon, the friction became unbearably arousing and you had to clutch at the sheet, and the headboard. A hot, tight knot at the tip of your stomach left you breathless, every movement of Wanda's hips into yours, the perfect fit between your cunts was enough to make you choke.

You practically meowed when she got the rhythm right. "O-oh god Wanda! T-there's something... fuck, I can't-"

"I know baby, just let go for me." She panted, her hands clenching the sheet on either side of your head, her hips frantic against yours. "Fuck, you feel amazing" She moans a confession, smiling satisfied at your expression of pure bliss beneath her.

Suddenly the knot bursts, and you're blinded by the pleasure of your first orgasm for a full moment. The headboard snaps in your left hand and Wanda cums in a loud, animalistic moan, spilling herself down on you before collapsing heavily onto your torso, your panting breaths mingling like your juices.

You try to recover together from the intensity of the climax, your hand finding her back on instinct to stroke her as Wanda nestles closer against you, an exhausted, satisfied smile on her lips.

She barely had a chance to lift her face to kiss you when the bedroom door suddenly opened.

"Kid, is everything all right in here I heard something breaking-'"

You nearly knocked Wanda off the bed in an attempt to cover the two of you with the comforter - and the mattress lost a few springs in the process.

The two Avengers who'd entered the room covered their faces with their hands, but unlike your brother, Natasha was holding back her laughter.

"I'm sorry. We... I... you-"

"Come on Captain, we're leaving." Natasha cut Steve off with a pat on the shoulder, leading the way backward. "Sorry girls, lock the door next time. And well, use protection!" She burst out laughing, ignoring the embarrassed grumbles from you and Wanda, and closing the door.

With the safety of a locked door, you hid your face in your pillow.

"Great, the best day of my life might be ruined because my brother is going to have a stroke." You grumbled, getting a hearty laugh from the other.

Wanda adjusted herself, stroking your hair until you looked at her again. "Best day of your life, huh? I'm flattered." She teases, smiling at the red that appears on your cheeks.

"As if you weren't cocky enough." You retort in the same tone, adjusting to hold her by the waist and pull her to you, getting on top now. Wanda sighs softly, even warmer with the addition of the blanket now, she finds it kind of hard to concentrate, much more talk. "Thank you, Wands."

Your line surprises her. "For what?"

"For being my first time." You clarify with a shrug, though your gaze was intense. "I've always wanted it to be with someone special, someone I like and trust. And there's no one I love more than you."

Wanda kisses you because she doesn't want to be the type to cry during sex, and she's pretty sure she would. You don't mind, she transmits the feeling through action and well, there are other things you're dying to do other than talk.

There will be time for confessions later.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff oneshots #marvel oneshots #elizabeth olsen x reader

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fandomnerd9602 · 1 year ago

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First Kiss

Stepsister!Wanda x Reader (Teen AU)

High school. It’s rough for you. On the downside, you have to deal with grades, social circles and the constant reminder of the crushing loneliness that first love creates. But on the bright side, you got an amazing stepdad Django Maximoff, and a cute and quirky stepsister Wanda Maximoff.

It was just after home room. You were feeling happy as could be. Your plan was to ask out Carol Danvers, Captain of the school’s volleyball team. You had practiced in the mirror and even asked Django for advice. He was more than happy to oblige.

You walked to your second period class with a pep in your step. You sat next to her and you seemed to have a good vibe between you and her. And then you turned the corner and stopped dead in your tracks.

Carol was standing there she was kissing James ‘Rhodey’ Rhodes and then she turned and kissed Valkyrie.

“Bye babes” she said with a wink. Your heart shattered. Luckily she didn’t notice you. Or maybe it was unlucky. You didn’t know. Your head was spinning.

“Y/N!” Wanda called out to you with a smile. She didn’t quite grasp what was wrong with you. She gave you a gentle shake. “You okay?”

“I-I don’t know” you just walked into class and sat down wordlessly next to Carol. And for the first time, you didn’t care.

The rest of the school day was a blur. You went from school to your own bedroom in an almost zombie like state. You felt absolutely alone and helpless. Your high school crush had a girlfriend…and a boyfriend.

You just curled up on your bed and just buried your head in your pillow in sheer embarrassment. You felt as embarrassed as the numerous times that you found yourself staring just a little too long at your step sister. In truth, Wanda was the one you truly loved.

Her kindness, her humor, her beauty, everything about her drove you crazy with love. But she was your step sister. You had hoped that if you focused on another girl your age, maybe you’d somehow focus your affections on her rather than Wanda.

But even that didn’t work because the only other girl you liked was part of a throuple.

You just buried your head in your pillow and grunted in embarrassment. And then came a soft knock at your door.

“Go away” you mumbled. “Nursing a broken heart in here”

“You sound like a dying moose” Wanda spoke up from behind the door. You couldn’t help but smile.

Wanda entered a second later with a cup of tea for you. “You okay, Y/N?”

“I don’t know if you saw it but Carol…she’s uhh…”

“I saw that…” Wanda huffed, “she can’t really make up her mind. Just pick one and be faithful”

“I’m never gonna find love” you mumbled before taking a sip.

“I’m sure Pietro would tell you the same.” She giggled.

“How’s your mom and Pietro doing?” You inquired.

“Malibu’s fine for them. I miss my bratok tho” she sighed. “But I know Pietro would love hanging out with you.”

“Life’s weird, Wanda.” You stated Esther pitifully. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet”

“Neither have I” she smirked, “although few have tried. No one can conquer the witch!”

Wanda throws her hands in the air and faked conjuring up some kind of magic. You couldn’t help but laugh. And then she laughed along with you. It just felt right being there with her.

You stared at her. She stared at you. A small blush made its way across her face.

“Y-you know,” she gently moved a stray strand of hair away from her face, “what if we…oh forget it”

“What?”

“What if we were..each other’s first kiss?” She found herself trying to hide her embarrassed face.

“Really?” You asked.

“Y-yeah. I want my first kiss to be with someone I trust. And I trust you” she explained.

“O-okay” you managed to say. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

The two of you just looked at each other for a split second before you broke the silence, “do you want me to lean in or-?”

“I-I’ll lean in” Wanda chimed in. She let out a nervous giggle before she leaned in.

You found yourself leaning in and then it happened. Your lips touched hers. So soft. So tender. The faint scent of strawberries permeated her skin. You could feel a sense of warmth and love take over your entire body.

Wanda pulled back. How you just wanted to take a hold of her and kiss her again. You could kiss her countless times and you sweared it would never be enough.

“That was…” she blushed, “wow”

“Y-yeah” you giggled. “T-thank you”

“What are step siblings for?” She smiled and turned to leave. “I’ll see you for dinner”

And with that she turned and left. You collapsed against your bed in an absolute state of bliss.

Years later your now wife Wanda told you that she did the exact same thing too.

Tags: @lifespectator @ma1egamer @aloneodi @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @konstantin609 @revanshand @russianredassassin @scarletquake-n7 @supercorpdanbeau @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @jacenradio7

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #step sister #step siblings #stepsister Wanda #scarlet witch #high school #high school au

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missnightshade · 7 months ago

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❝ IN BETWEEN ❞

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Requested: Yes.

Summary: Wanda Maximoff's younger sister seems to have no place in the hex besides Agatha’s side.

Warnings: Fluffy; a bit of angst. My poor writing. I love Wanda but needed to portrait her like this for the plot. English not being my first language.

Word count: 1.2K.

Y/N Maximoff was a delight. A lively, powerful, rebellious, and carefree creature that echoed as someone so different from her older siblings. At least, that was the image Agatha Harkness had of her since the first time stepping into Wanda's made-up reality. A sweet little thing, ready to be made hers.

The younger witch didn't have a coherent part into that small city her sister held captive. Pietro has been dead for years, and even with Agatha’s poor casting of someone in his place, the Scarlett Witch held more care in her eyes for him than to Y/N. Her real and alive little sister. Agatha felt the need to protect you. To gather you into her own arms and never let go.

"Hey, Agnes. What's up?" The sweet voice of the youngest Maximoff elated her as Agatha stood by Wanda and Vision's door with a bottle of wine and what looked like a food container.

"Heard the Maximoffs were out and about. I decided to pay my favorite girl a visit." She stepped in, not caring to be invited. "Who in their right mind would leave such a pretty pet alone?"

Y/N's laugh scaped as her hand pushed the door closed. Agnes was the only happiness the move to Westview brought her. Yet, she couldn’t bring herrself to remember why she had decided to live with Wanda.

"I think you're the only one who thinks that way, Aggy."

The Maximoff's body flopped down on the couch as Agatha roamed around the kitchen she's been in many times before. Now, with the late nineties aesthetic, it felt easier to find what she needed to open the bottle.

"Why do you think so, dear?", Agnes asked, waltzing back into the living room with two glasses of red wine.

She reached for one, eyes now dedicated to gaze at the company for the night. "Oh, you know." Y/N moved her hand gently around her, and Agatha could swear whips of magic erupted from them in frustration. "Wanda is out with Vision, the boys and Pietro. The Maximoff's outing. Yet, here I am. Barely part of the family."

As Y/N grumbled, sipping the wine, Agatha smiled against the rim of her own glass, mind rapidly working.

"Oh, sweet girl. They love you. You know that. Wanda would never choose to leave you behind."

Her words seemed to wake something inside Y/N’s mind. As her eyes locked into Agnes', the young witch frowned, memories of Sokovia and the Maximoff twins leaving their younger sister in the hands of Hydra agents after fleeing. The puzzle pieces of memories also had the smell of burned cookies in the Avengers compound and Wanda grieving in the arms of a robot while Y/N suffered alone.

But just as they came, a stronger power pushed them out.

"Y/N?" She looked at Agnes."Where did you go?"

"Uhm..." She tried piercing things together, but her mind felt blank. "What were we talking about?"

"Wanda?"

"Oh, right." she sipped on the wine again. "You're right. She wouldn't choose that."

The happiness in your voice made Agatha’s stomach hurt. She thought for a moment that something inside you had remembered.

"Yes, sweetie. She wouldn't."

Agatha's inside twisted and turned. That precious girl, with the most mesmerizing eyes and bright personality was just another refugee of the excuse of a Scarlett Witch that was being written.

She scoffed at the thought, bitterness seeping from her mouth. The sound made Y/N look at her, the thick alcohol sliding down her throat. Her gaze was questioning, but Harkness' eyes were fixed on the movements she did to swallow. For a moment, as Agatha tried to look up at her eyes, a ghost of necessity lingered above her shoulders.

Y/N smiled then, and for the first time since meeting the younger Maximoff, she felt obsessed.

( . . . )

That feeling didn't vanish... or even subsided. In fact, it only grew stronger.

Agatha would stop by the Maximoff's home every day to bring the girl a sense of comfort and, almost always, she would be alone, playing the part of the perfect, quiet sister that hardly ever made Wanda lose her mind. Forgotten. Misplaced. A secondary part that no one actually cared about.

But Agatha did. And Agnes was always there.

There were many reasons as to why she wanted to play along Wanda's game. To pursue her. To enlighten her. To...steal her. But when looking at Y/N, all of that seemed so small in comparison. And even inside that wrecked reality of Wanda's, somehow, Y/N had enough of free will to choose to fall in love with Agnes.

"Argh, i wanna cry." Y/N cried out in another wine date. In Agnes' home, the effect of Wanda was not so overwhelming. The woman could, actually, feel something real.

"Cry? Why?" Agatha questioned, trying to reach for her. The space between them grew smaller by the time they saw each other. Now, on the same couch, Agnes' hands were stopped by Y/N, who quietly guided them to both sides of her face. The vulnerability on her irises pained Agatha as her thumbs caressed Y/N's cheeks. "Darling, what's it? Tell me."

Y/N closed her eyes, pouting as if she was really fighting the urge to cry. Maybe devouring two bottles of wine by her side wasn't a good idea.

"It's just..." She mumbled, only opening her eyes when Agatha held her a bit closer, almost touching their noses. Y/N felt as if she couldn't breathe. Her entire world crumbled when looking at Agnes like that. "You're so pretty, Aggy. And you're always here for me. And...and when you are this close, I feel like the only thing I want in this world..." She breathed out in a full smeared sentence. "Is to have you all to myself."

Agatha's digitals tingled with the need to sink her fingers and merge her skin with Y/N's. In all the centuries of her life, not once the sensation of such primal need crumbled the ever so calculatedly built walls of her existence. She eyed her with confusion, but then, with love. Y/N didn't need a second time to wonder what that meant when her lips crashed down onto hers. The sweet kiss was firstly a mere touch, but when the Maximoff's insides twisted and her fingers slid against the ones on her face, Agatha pulled her closer. There was an almost bestial growl that scaped the older woman, but her fingers gently stroke the other, bringing her in.

When they parted, their foreheads touched. Agatha had a smile that could light up the whole city of Westview. Y/N saw it up close, laughing slightly as she pressed the tip of her nose against Agnes'.

"Are you laughing at me, Dove?"

The nickname made Y/N raise an eyebrow, but that didn't stop her hand from cupping the nape of Agatha’s head, nails slightly running against it.

"I'm laughing with you." She answered, pecking Agatha's lips again. "I thought it would take you longer to kiss me."

"Were you betting how long i would take?"

"I was actually betting on how long I would take lose my patience. "

"If you knew I also liked you, why didn't you take the lead, Dove?" Agatha's hand took a strand of Y/N hair into her hands, twisting it. "Are you that stubborn.

"Don't you know me?"

Agatha laughed as she gazed at Y/N. There was a lot she didn't actually know about her, but she was okay to find out. Preferably outside her sister's influence, a problem the witch would have to figure out how to deal now. One thing she was sure: no matter what, she wouldn't let Wanda take you apart.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness

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delulu-with-wandanat · 1 year ago

Note

Hey. So how about big sis Natasha and little sis reader. (They live in an orphanage called the red room)

Jock Nat finds out that her nerd little sis is getting bullied by the cheer squad. Protective Nat isn't having any of it ..... even if she has to fight with her best friend, cheer cap Wanda ...... ?

Please and thank you 😊

Sweater Weather

Reader Description: She/her, nerdy, often wears an outer, freshman.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Sister!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: Bullying, mentions of suicide.

Summary: Wanda and Natasha are friends, maybe even more. People love a classic jock and cheerleader trope. However when Natasha finds out that Wanda's little groupie had been bullying her little sister, it puts a strain on their relationship. Will Wanda be able to redeem herself?

⧗ᗢ⧗ᗢ⧗

They always said high school was the best time of your life, at least that's what they said in movies or whatever the hell that guy said in that crappy TV show, 'Highs and lows of high school football'.

Y/n thought it was stupid. The show, and high school. It could be that it's true, that this was supposed to be the best time of her life. Yet perhaps that only applies to the popular kids and the jocks who wouldn't stop reminiscing about the 'good old times.'

The amount of alumni that would go back to her class and just talk to the teacher even though they only graduated like a few months ago was insane. And most of the time Y/n could tell they are one of those popular kids. Y/n could only hope her sister doesn't end up like that when she graduates.

Natasha Romanoff, star of Westview High. Captain of the softball team. And is probably dating the hot cheerleader captain, Wanda Maximoff. Natasha is proud, confident, she strides through the hallway like she owns the school. Contrast to her sisters who stray away from the spotlight, Yelena Belova and Y/n Romanoff.

Well... perhaps only Y/n. If Y/n would put them into high school stereotypes, Yelena would probably fall under the 'Cool' kids category. One where people know her and thought she's fun to be around with, she's funny, sarcastic. People knew Yelena, and Yelena knew people, but only sticks to her group of friends and not all that into popularity. Y/n thinks that's the best type of category to be in.

You fit in with everyone, and everyone just chills with you. Unfortunately for Y/n, she got the worst hierarchy in high school society.

The nerds.

Being a nerd isn't necessarily a bad thing... Well, that's what her sisters always tells her at least. But really it's hard to believe that when she gets cornered by two cheerleaders in the bathroom, how cliche.

"Hey girl!" Shannon, probably the bitchiest out of the whole cheerleading squad. "What are you doingg?" She asked with faux interest.

Y/n doesn't answer and merely kept her head down while she washes her hand.

"Don't be rude!" The other cheerleader bumped her hips while giggling to Shannon. "Oh. My. God. I LOVE your sweater, where'd you get it?"

Christ, they literally are a walking stereotype. Y/n knew they weren't interested in her sweater, this was just one of those teasing that these plastic bitches love to do. "It was my mother's..."

"And was your mom like... an old hag?" Well that was just too far, the only thing Y/n had from her birth mother was this sweater after she died in the house fire. Y/n stayed silent.

The two kept giggling while side eyeing her on the side, occasionally re-applying their make up in the mirror. Y/n quickly finishes up, not wanting to be around them any longer. She quickly left the bathroom but she heard the two giggling and talking about her behind her back.

This has been going on for months ever since she started high school. Honestly, Y/n should be used to it at this point. But that comment about her sweater crossed the line and she needed to leave quick before things escalated.

Y/n spent the rest of the day with her head down, minding her own business and eating lunch alone at the cafeteria. Normally she would sit with her friends, Shuri and Peter, the two other nerds, but they were attending some competition at the moment.

All the while, Natasha was sitting at a different table with her group of friends which was mostly made up of her teammates and the some of the Baseball boys.

"All I'm saying is if you don't ask her out, I will." Carol said with a mouthful of food.

"And I will kick you out of the team, Danvers." Natasha narrowed her eyes at Carol.

"Seriously, just ask her out. The tension is so thick I can practically punch through it."

Natasha merely rolled her eyes, but her gaze ended up locking onto a brunette who was sitting at another table. Green orbs met hers, and Wanda gave her the sweetest smile. Natasha couldn't help but to avert her gaze whilst trying to hide the grin creeping onto her face.

"Ugh, I'm going to barf." Clint said as he fake gagged. Natasha punched his shoulder lightly and he winced.

"Shut up before I show Laura that horrendous hair you had in 6th grade."

"Don't you fucking dare-"

The group fell into an easy conversation, talking about their plans after school. Showing each other funny videos they found while scrolling through social medias. Everything wasn’t out of the ordinary until suddenly they heard yelling from another table.

"Leave me alone!" The voice yelled, normally Natasha would ignore it but when the voice belonged to her little sister, her head snapped to the source.

The cafeteria was silence, some whispers could be heard. The cheerleader table fell into a hushed giggling, occasionally glancing at Y/n's table. Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly and returned her gaze to Y/n. She could see Shannon Carter sitting at the same table with her, wait are they friends or...??

"Was that Y/n?" She heard Clint's voice.

Y/n was quickly got up from her seat, feeling uncomfortable at the amount of eyes on her. She was in the verge of tears, but manages to hold it through until she was out of sight. Natasha quickly got up from her seat, which caught the attention of the rest of the group.

"Where are you going??" Carol asked.

"I'm just gonna check up on my sister." Her friends simply nod, knowing how protective Natasha is over her family.

Natasha made a note to slow her walk as she passed the cheerleader table, with her perceptive ear she manages to caught a few sentence. "She's probably so poor, that's why she has no other clothes to wear." She heard Shannon said. Fashion police much? Especially when she dresses like a basic bitch-

"Maybe it's vintage." She heard Wanda responded with a little bit of an attitude. Wanda notices Natasha passing by and greeted her, only for Natasha to glare and ignore her. She may like Wanda, but no one messes with her little sister.

She navigates her way through the hallway, trying to find Y/n. Damn it where is she?

Think, Natasha, think! Where would she go?

She trusted her instinct and it led her to the music room, surely enough, someone was playing the piano. Natasha peeked through the window and saw a glimpse of a familiar y/h/c hair, she opened the door and her sister was slightly alarmed, but ultimately let out a sigh of relief upon noticing it was only Natasha.

"Hey Nat."

Natasha gently smiled and took a seat beside her. Y/n's hand danced on the keys gracefully, filling the room with soft tunes.

"You wanna tell me what happened?"

Y/n shook her head, and Natasha didn't budged. Natasha simply let her head rest on Y/n's shoulder listening to her play. Y/n finishes and started to play another piece, one that was special to them. Natasha recognize the song as soon as Y/n played the intro. 'Love of my life' by Queen.

"Mom would be proud of you." Natasha said in a soft tone.

Y/n didn't answer, yet she had a soft smile on her face as she played the piano. Their mother used to play this song when they were younger. Natasha, Yelena, and Y/n would huddle around her and watched as their mother skillfully moved her fingers across the keys. They would fight over who could play the piano first, as they all wanted to be as skilled as their mother.

But ultimately, Y/n was the only one who inherited her talents. They didn’t talk and only enjoyed the soft tunes of from the piano for a little while, with Natasha occasionally humming to the lyrics.

When the song ended, the room was filled with silence. After a few moments, Y/n finally spoke up. “I don’t… Feel like going back today.”

Natasha nodded, she knew Y/n had meant the orphanage. They refused to call that dump a home. That orphanage shouldn’t even exist in the first place.

“You want to crash at Clint’s?”

“I’m not that close with him, beside, I kinda feel bad to his parents.”

“I’m sure it’ll be alright, you want me to ask him?”

Y/n nodded and let out the breath she was holding, one less thing to worry about. “I didn’t mean to make a scene, they just went too far today.”

Natasha’s eyes shifted in confusion, she lift up her head that was resting on her sister’s shoulder to face her. “What do you mean?”

“They kept teasing me about the sweater, cause I kept wearing it almost everyday.”

“Well they should mind their own business.” Natasha said with a slight venom in her voice.

“It’s ok, I’m used to it. It’s just because It’s mom’s y’know?”

Wait… “What? What do you mean by used to it??”

“I mean, it’s not a big deal-“

“No.” Natasha said firmly and turned to face Y/n fully. “No, it is a big deal. You’re telling me they’ve been bullying you?”

The younger Romanoff sighed, “You could call it that. But they never went as far as teasing, Nat. It’s fine.” Y/n knew how over protective her big sister could be.

In the Red Room, Natasha would not hesitate to punch someone if they messed with Y/n or Yelena. The other girls at the orphanage was afraid of Natasha because of it. As much as Y/n appreciates it, she didn’t exactly wanted to be known only as Natasha’s puny little sister.

Especially now that she’s in high school, where she could make a name for herself. Unfortunately high school stereotypes chooses you, not the other way around.

“Please just don't make a fuss about it.” Y/n said, hoping to change the subject but to no avail. Natasha was stubborn.

“It was Shannon Carter wasn’t it? I saw her sitting next to you before you left.” Oh well rest in peace Shannon. No point in trying to cover her fake ass now-

“If I say yes will you promise not to do anything?” Natasha gritted her teeth, she was about to protest but Y/n cut her off. “Nat, I'm being serious. I really, REALLY, just want to stay out of drama. Living in the orphanage is already hell, I don't need the teasing to go further because they know I'm your little sister."

Shannon better thank the gods because if not for Y/n, she would've need to book a plastic surgery appointment. Natasha reluctantly agreed to drop the subject. What matters now is cheering up Y/n.

An idea popped up in her head and Natasha playfully bumped their shoulders, "Hey, you wanna skip school?" She asked with a smirk.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, "Wouldn't we get in trouble?"

"Only if you get caught. Come on! I'm pretty sure Yelena's skipping too." It took a while to convince the younger Romanoff, but eventually they were out of the school's boundaries in no time. It was kind of embarrassing that her first time skipping school was with her big sisters, but nevertheless, Y/n thought it was fun.

And she wouldn't want it any other way.

Three days later, Natasha had been trying to avoid Wanda and her cheer squad. Because if she didn't, she would've probably punch Shannon Carter straight in the face. Unfortunately for her, fate wasn't exactly on her side.

While Natasha was opening her locker, Wanda approached her with that adorable smile. "Hey." Wanda greeted her shyly. It was strange really, the girl was different when she wasn't around her friends. Natasha found it rather adorable to see this other side of Wanda.

"Hi." Natasha responded with a kind smile, ok she may be a little upset at Wanda. But really, can you blame her? Wanda's extremely cute.

"Uh... I was just wondering if you wanted to go somewhere after practice, maybe get some food or whatever?" Wanda asked with hopeful eyes.

Natasha desperately wanted to say no. Mainly because she didn't want to associate with people who are friends with her sister's bully, unfortunately she is merely a teenager with raging hormones. "Yeah, sure."

Wanda then beamed in delight, "Ok! So uh, I'll see you then." They both then went to their respective class, both with a smile on their face.

Practice was hell that day, I mean fuck, she gets that competition was around the corner but today's drill was insane. At this point, Natasha thinks their coach is just trying to kill them. Thankfully they were done for the day and she's got a date with a hot cheer captain.

Natasha finishes up in the locker room with the other softball girls, they had to change rather quickly as they shared the locker room with the cheerleaders. Though they didn't mind sharing, it just gets a little crowded. Natasha felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to be greeted by those beautiful green eyes.

"Hey! I won't take long. Meet you outside?" Wanda asked.

Natasha nods, "Sure, I'm just finishing up. Text me when you're done." She responded rather shyly, only Wanda Maximoff could make her all fuzzy feeling.

Wanda smiled at her and returned to her place with her friends. Natasha went back to packing up the last of her equipments. Pants, towel, glove, and- shit where's my shoes?

"Did you guys see Y/n today?" Natasha tensed the moment she heard Shannon's voice.

"About time she wash that sweater." Another cheerleader said.

"Honestly, I bet it smells so bad." Sharron giggles. "It's not like her taste got any better, all of her clothes looked worn down."

"Guys stop it." Wanda said, gaining attention from her friends. Oh ok good to know she wasn't- "It's called being indie." Fucking hell, Natasha clenched her jaw. Trying to hide her disappointment.

The girls giggled and another one spoke up, "Does her parents not love her enough to buy her new clothes."

"I heard her parents died."

"If I was her mother, I would've killed myself too-" Sharron was quickly slammed against the locker by none other than Natasha Romanoff. Causing all the girls to look at her in shock. "What the fu-"

Natasha couldn't contain her anger and gave her another rough shoved, she didn't care that Wanda was witnessing the whole confrontation. "Go on. What else do you have to say, Carter?"

Sharron was lost for words, she could barely utter a word. "I-"

"What more do you have to say about my sister?" Shit.

"S-Sister?" Sharron manages to ask.

"If you so much as glance at her I won't hesitate to permanently damage your face. Got it?" Sharron didn't need to be told twice. The venom in Natasha's voice scared her to her core. She nodded frantically. "Same goes for the rest of you." That was all that Natasha said before hastily taking her leave.

The audacity of these girls.

Natasha stomps her way out of the locker room. She was filled with too much anger and disappointment. One, they insulted her sister. Two, they brought up her parents as well. And three, the fact that Wanda was no better than them. Her friend, her best friend, one she had a crush on, and maybe even love. Was a down right bitc-

"Natasha wait!" Speak of the devil.

Natasha tried to ignore her and made her way out of the school through the field. Wanda manages to catch up to her and pulled her to a stop. Yet Natasha pulled her hand away just as quick, it tore Wanda's heart. "What the hell do you want?!"

"Natasha please, I- I didn't know Y/n was your sister-" Wanda tried to reason. That made her furious.

"And if she wasn't, would it make in any better to bully someone?" Natasha asked. "Just- Leave me alone. I don't want to associate myself with someone like you." Natasha spat.

Wanda knew she was wrong, there's no denying that. But she didn't want to lose Natasha, her best friend. "Tasha, wait please just listen!"

"I have nothing more to say." Natasha started walking away again towards the parking lot, and she made it clear nothing Wanda had to say would make her listen. So, Wanda ran to stand in front of her to stop her track. Guilt smeared across her face.

"Look, I'm sorry. I really am!" She pleaded.

"I'm not the one you owe an apology too."

"I will, I promise. I just- I don't want to lose our friendship..."

Neither did Natasha. She genuinely liked Wanda, their friendship, and... well, Wanda. But nobody messes with her family. "You did that when you bullied my sister."

Wanda tried to defend herself, because yes she maybe have joined the conversation with her friends just to stay on topic, but she never actually teased Y/n. She never outright bullied her, or corner her in the bathroom. All she did was chime in here and there when their friends talked shit about other people. It doesn't make it any better, In any way It was pathetic.

But can you really blame her? She was merely a teenager trying to fit in.

Before Wanda could even explain herself, Natasha held up her hand to stop her. "Safe it. I don't ever want to speak to you."

"No... No, please. Natasha just listen-" Wanda was cut off by a honk of a car. They glanced to see Clint in a car with the window's down.

"Come on, lovebirds! I'm your chauffeur for the night." He clearly missed out on a few episodes.

Natasha quickly approached the car and got into the passenger seat. "Just drive, Clint. Date's canceled."

One of the things Natasha appreciates from Clint is that he understood her better than anyone. And seeing Natasha's distressed face, he drove out of the parking lot without another word. He gave Wanda a quick look of apology before rolling up his window.

Wanda watched as Clint's car drove out of the school boundaries. She felt sick to her stomach, tears pooling in her eyes. Wanda's heart broke into a million pieces. Not only did Natasha hated her, but she also ruined their friendship.

What can she do to restore it?

Hellooo, sorry this took a whilee. I've had many projects to do it makes my brain dead to write anything. Anyway I hope you enjoy this one! I'm planning to make a part 2, hopefully their relationship is not doomed😩

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