romanoffswands

[romanoffswands]

BRIGHTER THEN CHRISTMAS LIGHTS

SUMMARY — you’ve been with kate for years, but on your first christmas in your new apartment, she decides to make you hers forever

The room smelt like pine and peppermint, you could thank the six foot tree in the corner, decorated with candy canes and assorted purple ornaments for that. As the morning sun bled into your quiet bedroom, painting the walls and everything else it touched golden, your heart fluttered in your belly at the simplicity of this moment you earned. After months of endless battles, there was finally peace to be enjoyed, and you would milk every second of it while it lasted.

Kate was flush against the bedsheets, satin pillow on the floor and heavy blankets tangled at her hips like she’d kicked them off in the middle of the night. She was always a quiet sleeper, but with her face pressed into the bed, soft snores escaped her parted lips. Her cheeks were flush, tinted pink, an accent to the all purple room she adored. Her deep brown hair that was almost the color of a raven sat twisted into a single braid in the middle of her head, frizzy at the roots as a result of restless rustling all night. Her plaid purple pajama top had ridden up in her sleep, exposing the softest parts of her hips and belly. You sat in the quiet for a while, admiring her even breaths and innocent face, wishing every morning could be this easy.

Just last week, you’d spent your nights alone while she fought alongside Clint somewhere in Brooklyn. When she did finally come home, she was sore and not nearly herself, not that you could blame her, but you were finally back in a routine, and your favorite holiday awaited you downstairs in full swing. If there was one thing Kate was known for within your small community of friends, it was her full-out commitment to decorating that could rival her high energy personality. Your bedroom was full of purple accents, from the blankets on the bed to the little trinkets she collects on the shelves, the apartment was a different theme in every room, not a single space left unfinished. You had assumed she’d go the generic Christmas route, not holding your expectations too high knowing how busy this time of year got for her, but you’d been severely wrong. So perfectly she found decor that matched every theme, and so proudly she’d put up a Christmas tree in every room that would surely have the place smelling like pine for months to come. It so perfectly fit who she was at her core, and the day it all came down would break your heart.

The ornaments on the tree reflected purple shadows against the wall, the candy canes were sweet and the pine was light, the sun warm against your skin that felt flush just watching her breathe. She looked so peaceful, you couldn’t even think about rousing her from that state, content with the silence around you and the heavy snow that fell outside of your window. It was a perfect snowglobe moment that you had waited days to have.

You lean back against the headboard, letting the cold flush wash over your warm body. Reaching a hand out tenderly, you caress the side of Kate’s face, pink cheeks warm to the touch but nothing out of the ordinary for her, always running hot when in the deepest depths of her slumber. You wondered what she dreamed about, but much to your dismay, she always woke without a single memory, only a smile on her cherry lips and wonder in her icy eyes. She wore your most favorite shade of blue so easily, everything about her was captivating, even in this moment. You didn’t mean to wake her, but the ticklish sensation that spread through her face was what brought her back down to earth, her eyes squinting before she stretched her entire body out like a clumsy puppy, smiling up at you with closed eyes.

“G’morning.” She rasped, snuggling deeper into the bedsheets, using her folded arms as a pillow once she realized that hers had fallen sometime during the night. You laughed quietly at her gravely morning voice and sleep slurred words, trailing your gentle fingers down the side of her neck and over her exposed shoulders. The tank top she slept in fit tightly to her muscular build, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d seen in a while. She’d been frolicking around in your biggest sweater, hiding her perfect body from you, but it was all yours to oogle now, and you did so selfishly.

“Good Morning, baby.” Your hand slipped beneath her purple plaid tank top, nails scratching along her skin gently. She hummed in pleasure, wiggling closer to you until her head fell onto your soft thighs, her braided hair tickling the skin of your arm.

“Merry Christmas.” She smiled sleepily, finally peeling her blue eyes open to find yours in the sunlit room. You would never know how you got so lucky to have her, to call her yours and to spend every moment at her side knowing so many people wanted her for themselves, but you would thank your lucky stars until the end of time.

“Merry Christmas, Kates.” You chuckled lightly, letting your lips brush against the palm of her hand as it came up to rest on your cheek. “You slept well, if the pillow on the floor is any indication.” You giggled, belly jostling her head much to her displeasure. She grumbled mopily, digging her face further into your thighs like that was the answer to her problem.

“Always sleep well when you’re next to me.” She admitted in her delirium, unaware of how she melted your heart like a snowman in summer. Retracting her warm touch from your face in favor of rubbing out her tired eyes, she sat up straight once she felt the slightest bit of energy course through her body, finally starting to remember that today was the day she’d been counting down to since October. Her knees knocked yours, both sitting criss-crossed on the bed like kindergarten children, and with as much glee as you’d ever seen her wear, she reached for yours hands. “Merry Christmas!” She beamed brighter than a thousand ultra bright Christmas lights, perky and alert now as she really let this moment wash over her. It wasn’t the first Christmas you’d spent together as a couple, but it was the first year you’d woken up together tangled in bedsheets, in a place that you could call only your own. Clint’s little farmhouse had been home for a while, and while little kids made the holiday even sweeter, this was something new, something well deserved, and you were grateful for it everyday. Even if it lacked Lila jumping on your bed and Laura cooking waffles downstairs.

You giggled, leaning in close until your lips brushed together, fireworks exploding around the room when her lips reciprocated your movements. “Merry Christmas! Do you think Santa came?” You teased, cupping both of her cheeks in your hands and holding her close to your face, not ready to let her go just yet.

“I don't know. I think we have to check it out.” The presents had been slowly accumulating beneath the extravagant tree in the living room for weeks, both of you knew what awaited you once you descended down the stairs and made a sharp left, but that didn’t squander your joy as you raced out of bed and haphazardly shoved into each other just to say you got there first. Kate let you win, she always let you win, but it didn’t dampen your pride as you bounced around and kissed her face in a teasing celebration. “Santa came!”

“And his name is Katherine Bishop.” Your girlfriend jutted out her chest goofily, scratching at an imaginary white beard. You shook your head in fondness, taking a seat in front of the tree and the color coded presents beneath it. Ironically, both of you had chosen purple wrapping paper, though hers was a few shades darker and matched the pajamas she wore with its checkered print. You had gone a separate route then the traditional Christmas print, buying as many rolls of Hawkeye themed paper you could find once you realized it existed and sported a cartoon version of her face. Kate had laughed so loudly the first time she’d seen it, you’d do anything to hear that sound again, and you weren’t disappointed. When you handed her the first box, her face contorted with happiness, and contagious belly laughs escaped her.

You opened your presents at the same time, neither one of you having enough patience to sit around and watch the other. It didn’t take long for the living room to become a disaster of ribbons and crumpled paper, but that would be a cleanup project for later. Right now, you were just enjoying the small things.

“Last present!” Kate declared, reaching deep behind the tree and pulling out a small box you hadn’t noticed before. She had hidden it well, not that you would’ve gone around and snooped, but you could appreciate her commitment to surprises, even if she was horrible at them, always wanting to loop you in and dissect everything that had happened.

“Gimmie!” You reached for the little box, beaming from ear to ear when she placed it in your waiting hands and watched you intensely. You thought nothing of it, tearing into the paper like a madwoman. The velvet box you found beneath was no different then the boxes you’d acquired throughout your years together. Kate loved getting you nice things, and most often that was in the form of diamond bracelets or pearl necklaces. You appreciated them every time, but nothing had led you to believe that this box was different. When you flipped the lip, eager to see what awaited you, and whether it would be a gorgeous new charm for your collection or an elegant diamond bracelet, your mouth hung open in shock and tears breached your gentle eyes.

You never wanted an elaborate proposal. You had always told Kate that. You weren’t elaborate people, you didn’t need the big speech and the thousands of dollars spent on photographers and videographers to know that she meant it, but somehow this little moment was even more perfect than you could’ve anticipated. Looking up at her and away from the breathtaking engagement ring, you couldn’t help the single tear that fell down your face.

“Kate?” Your voice trembled, coming out a breathy whisper as you watched her watch you. Her eyes were the deepest shade of blue you had ever seen, a nervous grin on her face as she looked between you and the navy blue velvet box. “Are you-”

“Will you marry me?” She asked shyly, nothing but admiration in her icy eyes.

Not knowing what to say and not trusting your voice, you nodded through tears as you let her take the box and reach for your left hand. The ring fit like a glove, shimmering on your finger like that was exactly where it belonged. And it was. Blubbering like a fish out of water, you attacked the woman in a bone crushing hug, only pulling away to trap her lips in a deep kiss that couldn’t even begin to explain every emotion you were feeling.

“Merry Christmas, fiance.” She giggled against you, and you couldn’t help but laugh with her as you pulled your hand up to admire the diamonds.

“Merry Christmas, fiance.”

#kate bishop #kate bishop fluff

[romanoffswands]

UNDER THE MISTLETOE

SUMMARY — when you believe your girlfriends to be dead, the last thing you want to do is celebrate christmas without them. and when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home, oh baby, baby merry christmas

Christmas had never felt so lonely. Your favorite time of year had never felt so despondent. You used to love the scent of fresh pine as it melted into the air and made the entire house smell like winter, but now it made you queasy. You used to bask in the sight of mistletoe hanging from door frames, waiting beneath it for the lips of your lovers to find their way home and encapsulate you in a picturesque snow globe moment, but now the very sight of it made you dizzy and clammy and sick. You avoided the holly and ribbon that decorated banisters and you threw away the gingerbread cookies somebody had left sitting on the kitchen counters. You had never felt so disconnected from the jouissance of December 25th, but you had also never lost all connection to your girlfriends who were off risking their lives for the greater good.

Seventeen days. It had been seventeen days since their comms went offline and nobody had heard a single word from them since. Everyone was somber, everyone felt hopeless, but nobody was as affected by the loss as you. You couldn’t find it within yourself to roll out of bed, or to mingle with your friends who were thankfully alive and well but Tony and Pepper still sang Christmas carols as they made dinner, and Bucky and Steve still watched old movies on the couch while reminiscing about the holidays in the forties, and Sam and Rhodey still decorated the tree with candy canes and popcorn garland because they believed that everything would turn out alright in the end. They believed Wanda and Natasha would find their way home, but you had never gotten so lucky. You had never gotten back the things that you lost.

You always told them that if anything were to happen, it would destroy you. You always told them that they were your entire world; your entire purpose. They never believed you. They always thought you were stronger than you were. They always saw the best parts of you, even when all you saw were shattered edges and a broken heart. Now they were thousands of miles away in a snow covered little town, and you were all alone in one of the most beautiful cities in the world barely clinging onto hope. Were they still alive? Were their bodies still warm and soft and careful? Were they still together, unaware of the fact that everyone back home was holding their breath expecting the worst? For seventeen days, all you managed to do was think about the worst. Afterall, nothing good ever happened to you. You were the harbinger of death, even if they tried so hard to change your mind.

When Steve knocked on your door, you let him think you were asleep. You let him stand outside on his own with a plate of decorated sugar cookies, trying his damndest to keep you afloat in the center of this storm that shattered your once stable ground. “It's Wanda and Natasha. They’ll be alright.” He was so certain, so hopeful. You hated him just as much as you hated the sparkling lights that Tony hung up outside. Even with your bedroom lights off and the curtains drawn, those red and green lights still brightened up your bedroom. Even with the comforter over your head, you could still see their faces as they boarded the quinjet thinking they’d be home in only a couple of days.

The winter months had brought inches of snow to upstate New York, covering the frozen ground in fresh white powder that crunched beneath even the gentlest of footsteps. Your heavy coat and fiery red knit mittens could only keep out so much of the brutal cold that made even Tony’s teeth chatter as he watched from the patio near the landing strip, but you couldn’t feel anything besides heat as you hugged Natasha around the neck and let Wanda’s wandering hands hold your waist.

“It’s Christmas. Do they really need you for an intel mission? I thought that was Maria’s job.” You mumbled petulantly into Natasha’s neck, not intending on letting go anytime soon. She knew that, Wanda knew it just as well. The redhead's hug was familiar, homely – but nothing you said could get her to stay. She had a ledger to wipe out, and no matter what light you saw her in, she’d always believe her hands were stained with red and it was her responsibility to do everything she could to right her wrongs. The wrongs she’d never had a conscious choice in, but still haunted her in the middle of the night when she was most vulnerable.

“Maria deserves one Christmas to herself, detka.” Natasha wistfully kissed your head, smoothing back the baby hairs that whipped around in the harsh winter wind and fell in front of your eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered against your hot skin, but the embrace was fleeting as she pulled away and straightened out the wrinkles in her stealth suit. The snow made crinkling sounds as she took a step back, and let you have a moment with Wanda, hating the way her nose burned and her eyes watered as their departure time grew closer and closer. After everything that happened, the chitauri and Loki and Thanos and Dreykov, she never thought saying goodbye to you would be the hardest thing she had to do.

“Why do both of you need to go?” You whispered to Wanda, letting her pull you in close to her heart when she saw that your shoulders began to tremble and your hands blindly reached out for Natasha, desperately wishing you got just one chance to be a normal couple. They wished the same, but there was nothing any of you could do about the fate of the world resting in the hands of the Avengers. That would never change, even if all you wanted was to be normal citizens for one Christmas season.

“We’ll be back soon. I promise.” Wanda kissed your lips so softly, you could barely feel her against you. Your covered hands did their best to cling to her, but she was stronger, and with sadness in her deep green eyes she forced herself away from you with one last gentle kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You sniffled, letting yourself fall into Natasha one last time before she boarded the jet behind Wanda. “Be safe, please.”

“Always am. I love you, don’t give Tony too much grief.” She knew how you could get when they were both away on a mission together, especially so close to your favorite holiday, but it was only a six day mission, she was sure you could handle that. Six days and they would be back in one piece, ready to decorate the tree and hide presents in every nook and cranny of the compound that they could think of.

“I can’t make any promises if he insists on putting up the Iron Man inflatable again.” Despite the sadness in your heart, you manage to crack a joke that has Natasha smiling. You love the way she smiles and how her eyes light up like Christmas lights, but it’s over too soon, and before you can find a reason for them to stay, the quinjet is taking off and your entire heart is flying away into a battlezone.

The bedroom you’re supposed to share with Wanda and Natasha is the only space in the compound left untouched by Christmas, and you’re eternally grateful for the lack of reminders that tonight's Christmas Eve, and your heart isn’t with you. The empty pit in the bottom of your stomach feels like it’s only growing bigger the longer you go on without any confirmation that they’re okay. You can’t stomach the optimistic banter that fills the common room when you're around, and how your friends hold onto hope that they’ll find a way home like Christmas miracles are something you deserve. You know the truth, you’ve seen the truth too many times to believe in such fairytales, and despite their luck at evading death, your girlfriends aren’t invincible. They’re human, just like you. They’re breakable and they’re killable and at the end of the day there’s only so much that they can take until they crumble. You wish that their teammates would remember that. You wish the world would remember that Earth’s mightiest heroes have families too.

There’s another knock on your door all too soon, but unlike Steve’s, it’s not as passive, and whoever’s so desperate for your attention doesn’t relent even after you make no sounds to indicate that you’re awake or even alive. You haven’t used your voice in days, having had no reason to as you’ve avoided everybody to the best of your abilities, but somehow you manage to find the strength to send them away, but even that doesn’t dissuade the persistent person outside of your door who only knocks louder and more urgently. It’s enough to make you want to cry, just wanting to be left alone, but nothing ever goes your way.

With light footsteps, you throw your bedroom door open, glaring up at whoever decided they needed your company. Tony’s bashful expression doesn’t melt your anger the way you hope, and impatiently you wait for his explanation with your arms folded across your chest. You’re wearing one of Wanda’s shirts, drowning in the oversized t-shirt that was one of the first she’d ever had after moving in. It smelled like her when you put it on, but six days is a long time, and now the only thing that clings to it is your tears. Natasha’s pajama shorts are tied around your hips, two sizes too big but the only comfort you’ve had throughout this entire experience. They’re a deep shade of red like her hair and the softest shorts you’ve ever felt, but nothing is softer than the way her hands grip at your skin in the middle of the night when she needs you close. Nothing will ever be as comforting as having them in bed beside you.

“It’s Christmas Eve.” Tony states the obvious, scratching at the stubble growing out of his chin that he hasn’t bothered to shave away. Pepper doesn’t mind the scruff, but your heart aches knowing that Natasha would’ve had some kind of comment about his graying features.

“No shit.” Your response is dry, and your voice is hoarse, but you can’t find it within yourself to tolerate his intrusion to your depressing quiet that is just barely keeping you together. “Did you need something?”

“Pepper thought you’d want to join us for a movie. Just one.” The sincerity in Tony’s voice is a rarity that only a few lucky people get to experience, but you can’t find it within yourself to give him the time of day. He’ll never know what this feeling is like, and for some reason that only makes you angry as your eyes slit into daggers.

“No, thanks.” You’re about to slam the door in his face when you hear a commotion out in the common room and Maria anxiously calling your name, the echo traveling down the festive hallway that makes you want to throw up. There are wreaths on every door, and in the center of the hallway is a red-berry stock of mistletoe, taunting your lonely lips that haven’t felt the kiss of your girlfriends in almost three weeks.

Almost too quiet to make out, Maria’s voice is shrill as the commotion in the common room only amplifies, but what followed wasn’t anything you would’ve expected to hear after seventeen days in the dark, but the second your brain processes what Bucky shouts, you’re fleeting to the source in seconds, side stepping Tony and practically tripping over yourself with an evident lack of grace as your limbs fly around wildly. “The comms are online!” Bucky’s words repeated over and over again in the front of your head like that godforsaken Christmas carol Tony had been singing all day, but everything became quiet the second static crackled out from the speakers of the laptop Maria was feverishly typing on, trying to secure the line Wanda and Natasha were supposedly on the other side of.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to look at anyone besides Maria as you all gathered around the couch and watched the woman work at a pace you’d never thought was imaginable. Your tired eyes bore into her soul despite her fixation point being the laptop screen, but you knew she could feel your desperation. Your entire body was crying out to have some relief, to be told that this was real, that somewhere out there, Wanda and Natasha weren’t separated and alone, that they were alive and ready to come back home just in time for Christmas. Nothing good ever happened to you, but they had, and you couldn’t afford to lose them now. Not when you had come so far to fix what had been broken a million little times over.

“Nat!” Maria shrieked when the static cracked and the faintest hint of a voice filled the silent room, so still that you’d know if a pin dropped and hit the hardwood floors. Another whirl of static almost deafened Steve and Bucky, but Maria was quick to adjust the frequencies and bring the voices of your girlfriend home, even if their bodies were five thousand miles away. “Nat! Maximoff! Can you hear me?”

With hardly any patience left in your agonizingly numb body, you reached for the laptop with the little strength you could manage, feeling your knees tremble the longer you stood on your own two feet. Maybe it was the lack of food and water, maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was just the sheer exhaustion you felt both mentally and physically that reduced you to nothing but a pile of bones and skin. Whatever was the culprit, it had you feeling like the world was about to collapse around you if you didn’t hear their voices. You only had this to hold onto, you couldn’t bear to see it get taken away after all these days.

“Nat.” Your voice was soft, trembling and hoarse just like it had been when you greeted Tony, but there was a thickness in it that held nothing but adoration for the redheaded woman that so bravely risked her life over and over again. “Natty, can you hear me?”

The static cracked again, and just when you were about to lose hope, just when you were about to chuck the laptop across the room and drown yourself in a bottle of whiskey, that silky voice you loved so much cut through the static and called out to you. “I can. Clear the land-” The static broke apart her words, it filled the room with a horribly deafening sound, but all that filtered through your mind was that they were alive. They were alive and they sounded okay. That was all you could ask for.

“Nat. Nat. Hello?” You bellowed, keeping the laptop away from your face knowing that it always sounded clearer from a distance. “Wanda?”

“H-h-home.” That was all you could make out before the signal was lost completely and the connection died again, but unlike before, your world didn’t feel so dull. There was an energy in your veins that hadn’t been there before, and with reluctance, you handed the laptop back to Maria bearing a smile nobody had seen in almost three weeks.

With the news of your girlfriends coming home, you finally took in the sight of the common room. You had missed all the little things that Tony had added this year, so stuck in your head on the few occasions that you ventured around the compound. There were the typical Christmas decorations that he pulled out from storage every December, like the fake snow on top of the mantle and the customized stockings with all of your names embroidered on the top, the ten foot tree that was adorned in warm yellow lights, and the annoying train that circled the tree on a loop, but there were little nutcrackers all in the Avengers costumes on the mantle as well, and a picture you’d never seen before of all of you together last Christmas, smiling and laughing and looking so at peace, it almost felt like a normal family celebration had you overlooked the cuts and scrapes on Sam’s cheeks.

Your girls were coming home. Maybe Christmas miracles did happen.

⋆*:･ִ ࣪🎄ೃ࿔

A snowstorm had drifted toward upstate New York in the hours you spent waiting by the door for Wanda and Natasha, curled up into yourself just trying to keep warm as snowflakes turned the frozen ground white just like it had on the day of their departure. Something about it was sweet, but another part of you dreaded the sight of fresh powder like even the thought of it would make this entire nightmare start over again. Stubbornly, you’d decided to wait by the window for the quinjet to arrive, not wanting to miss their arrival by any means, but the mug of hot chocolate you’d made to keep your insides warm had gone cold in minutes and as the harsh wind blew in, your porcelain skin became raw and red. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago, not wanting to impede on your intimate reunion with the two women who you yearned for desperately. You appreciated the sentiment behind their actions, but the loneliness that had crept into your bones was only amplifying as the minutes ticked by so agonizingly slow. It was almost three in the morning when the first flickers of light came from off in the distance, followed by the unmistakable sound of a plane landing in the backyard. Bolting from the common room and leaving your snowman mug of cold chocolate on the side table to rest, you shoved the patio doors open with little regard for how you might snap the hinges, racing to see your girls emerge from the quinjet in one piece. Your naked legs weren’t protected from the cold, and your sock clad feet grew wet in seconds as they stomped over the snow, but you couldn’t even begin to register the feelings as you looked expectantly at the large black and sleek airplane.

When the gate began to lower to the ground, and wisps of red hair became visible in the darkness of nightfall, you wasted not a single second before you raced into their company and threw your arms around the first woman you could reach with all of your might. It was Wanda that earned your embrace, and the Sokovian woman returned your hug with the same intensity, her nimble fingers running through your hair and working apart all the knots and tangles that had formed over days of being left unbrushed. You wailed into Wanda’s chest with little grace, throwing your dignity somewhere out into the snow without care of who was watching from their bedroom windows. As you fisted the neckline of her stealth suit and dug your nose into the warmest crevice of her neck, your eyes searched for your second lover who was only inches behind your entangled bodies.

“N-Never do that again.” You sobbed desperately, reaching a trembling hand out for Natasha to hold, wanting to feel the both of them against you. “Promise me you’ll never do that again!”

Deep down, you knew that was something they couldn’t promise. No matter how much it would mean to you to never have to sit alone in the dark wondering if they were even alive, this was the only thing they knew outside of your love. This was the only thing that helped them sleep at night. It would be cruel to ask them to give up the one outlet they had for all of the trauma and pain they kept inside. You could never ask them to give this job up, not until they were ready to do it for themselves, but for tonight, beneath the stars and the sunflakes, they agreed.

“I missed you so much.” Wanda admitted as she laid innocent kisses to the cold skin of your neck, her warm body doing its best to keep yours from freezing as you shivered in the cold in only a thin pair of shorts. Her wandering hands found a home on the back of your thighs, and she smoothed her palms over your skin until they didn’t feel so cold anymore, but she could only help so much as the snow came down around you like a shaken snow globe. “Let’s get you inside, moya lyubov.” Her voice was thin as it carried through the open field, just loud enough for you to hear her, but it still made your heart skip a beat after so many days of painful silence.

Reaching a hand out for Natasha to hold, you linked your frozen fingers with the redhead and let your other girlfriend lead the way inside, leaving the quinjet to be dealt with at a later date, preferably by somebody else. They knew you wouldn’t be letting them out of your sight for the foreseeable future, and selfishly they didn’t mind your clingy behavior that always reared it’s head after a mission. Your girls yearned to feel wanted, to feel like they truly belonged after so many years of being treated like they were replaceable. You gave them everything they never thought they would have, and even after six years together they questioned what they did to deserve you or each other. You were all alike in that way, always willing to shell out comfort and reassurances but unable to internalize for yourself to believe. One day, the three of you would believe that you deserved to be happy, but for right now, you had each other to lean on.

When you made it back into the compound and Natasha closed the patio doors behind you, the scent of pine and cinnamon hit you in the face like a brick. For the first time in eighteen days the lingering essence of Christmas didn’t make you queasy. The kitchen was dimly lit with electric candles, ribbons and bows hung on every cabinet door like a Hallmark card, and in the center of the island were gingerbread houses Tony and Steve had spent hours competing over, decorated with stale vanilla icing and crushed up candy canes. The warmth from the furnace circled around your trembling body in a tight embrace, making your skin burn as it was forced to adjust to the rise in temperature in only seconds, but you welcomed it with a light heart and gleeful eyes.

“I felt so lost without you.” You whispered, leaning back into Natasha’s chest, letting her arms slink around your waist and keep you close to her despite her desperate need to shower and slip into comfortable clothes. You didn’t mind the weapons digging into your back, or how she smelt of sweat and blood, just glad to have her back home for your favorite day of the year. “I meant it when I said I wouldn’t be able to handle anything bad ever happening to you. I know this is your job, but it doesn’t scare me any less when shit like this happens. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t afford to lose the only happiness I have.”

Wanda’s gentle hands cradled your face as Natasha held onto your body. They cherished your tender heart and all the broken pieces that made you the woman that they loved. “We will always come home to you. No matter what may happen, or who might come for us, you are worth fighting for.” Wanda’s red lips laid the softest kiss on the tip of your nose before Natasha was leading you down the halls and toward the bedroom, sparing a glance at the common room that illuminated a gentle glow as the Christmas tree remained lit in the farthest corner from the entryway. The fight wasn’t worth it anymore. Not when they had so much to lose. Maybe now, in snow soaked stealth suits bearing bruises and cuts and the blood of the enemy, they could finally find peace within their broken hearts to give this up.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, dorogoy.” Natasha’s husky voice sent shivers up your spine as Wanda closed your bedroom door gently, not wanting to disturb the rest of the compound anymore than you already had. Natasha’s fingers worked at pulling your shorts off, and then your top, discarding them on the floor to be dealt with later. Wanda didn’t need to be asked to grab you a change of clothes, already scouring through the closet until she found the matching pajamas you’d ordered a month ago. Two days ago, you laid in bed alone, staring angrily into the dark closet wishing you’d never even ordered them. You hated the reminder of what you didn’t have, of what you might never have again, but in this moment, you knew it was the right call. As Natasha laid kisses from the lobe of your ear, down your neck, and past the blades of your shoulders that were tense from nights of restless sleep, you knew you didn't regret a single thing that led up to this moment.

Wanda was the first to get changed, slipping into the red and white checkered pajamas set with ease and leaving her stealth suit in a ball on the floor to be dealt with later. Her callused hands replaced Natasha’s on your bare waist when the older redhead peeled away to change her clothes, you melted into her rough hands, sighing in content when she began to work out the knots in your back and shoulder blades. “Did I ever tell you your fingers are magical?” You practically moaned when she hit a sensitive spot between your shoulder blades, wincing away from her touch before you sank back in. She giggled, letting her lips dance across your neck softly.

“Once or twice.” She teased, but just as quickly as she coaxed you into her grip, she was pulling away and helping you get dressed, only pausing when her green eyes caught sight of something hanging from the ceiling. With your shirt halfway over your head and your shorts hanging off your waist yet to be tied, your eyebrows furrowed as she twisted in her grip and looked at her.

“What?” You asked breathlessly, letting your fingers dance along her cheekbones. The bed rustled as Natasha climbed in, and seconds later you heard her beautiful laugh as she looked up toward the ceiling.

“Look up.” She hummed, and Wanda took that as an invitation to settle a finger beneath your chin and tilt your head upward toward the ceiling. Despite the lack of Christmas in your bedroom, one single stock of mistletoe hung from a string, hardly visible in the darkness of midnight that engulfed you like a warm blanket after days of feeling like a punishment.

“Mistletoe.” You mused gently, letting your lips crash against hers in a passionate embrace that you had so desperately longed for. Climbing into bed to share the same passion with Natasha, your forehead rested against hers heavily as you panted for breath. “Remind me to thank Tony later.”

Your girlfriends laughed as you settled into bed, four arms hanging off of your body as you were sandwiched in the middle, finally at peace after three weeks of agony. “Merry Christmas.” You whispered into the dark as sleep took over.

Wanda kissed the back of your head and Natasha kissed your hand, both entirely content with this simple little moment that was entirely deserved. “Merry Christmas, detka.”

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

[romanoffswands]

TASTE THAT YOUR LIPS ALLOW

SUMMARY — after a morning of insatiable teasing, wanda and natasha take turns completely undoing you

WARNINGS — smut minors dni, soft dom natasha, soft dom wanda, teasing, lingerie, hickies, fingering, nipple play, choking, edging, oral (r and wanda receiving), begging, thigh grinding, face riding, nipple sucking, orgasms

Wanda has a knack for messing with the thermostat when you and Natasha leave, even if it’s just for a few hours. Your comfortable apartment might as well be decorated in icicles if she had her way, the wooden floorboards so chilly that your entire body tenses when the first bare foot is laid upon them after returning home from the shops. You groan Wanda’s name into the otherwise quiet space (save for the buzz of the air conditioner that’s working overtime to accommodate her request), pulling your arms tightly to your middle, practically drowning in her oversized hoodie that engulfs a third of your body. You shimmy out of your denim shorts, letting them pool around your ankles before taking a step forward, attempting, and failing, at adapting to the frigid shock that’s traveling up your body at lightning speed with every step toward the door.

Wanda snickers, knowing exactly what she’s being scolded for without any additional context. Natasha grumbles beneath her breath, coming out of the closet with a new set of comfy clothes on her body. Your girlfriend looks entirely domestic in her pajama bottoms and t-shirt, but the sharpness of her jaw and darkness of her eye reminds you of who she really is, and what she’s capable of. It’s not often that Natasha carries this energy home with her, but she’s been set in a mood for the last few days that has your muscles aching and thighs squeezing together, though she’s yet to relieve that second issue. She’s been teasing you for hours today, your outting to the shops no exception, seeing as she dragged you to each and every lingerie boutique with a sinister smirk on her lips and gave you a healthy description of the ways she’d fuck you into hell in every single skimpy set she suggested.

The thermostat is across the apartment in Natasha’s office, and you’d think that would mean the temperature of your space would remain consistent, considering Natasha craves consistency, but whenever she has the chance, Wanda’s grimey fingers sneak around the dial and twist it down to the low sixties. You have a suspicion she does it so that you and Natasha cuddle into her warm energy, the scarlet vibrations beneath her skin an incentive to cuddle close, but you can’t be entirely sure. Mostly because every time you’ve suggested that reason to her she denies it with a vicious scowl.

Where Wanda is in the apartment, you’re not entirely sure. She wasn’t in the kitchen when you came back from the shops and shouted your greetings with arms full of bags, and she’s not in your bedroom or Natasha’s office, but she’s close enough that her muffled laughter was audible from the bedroom, meaning she’s most likely waiting to catch you in the act of tampering with her air conditioning. On high alert, you hurriedly shuffle into Natasha’s office, letting the cream walls surround you and all of her possessions dance in your viewpoint as you make a b-line for the thermostat. Your fingers barely brush against the ridges of the knob before you feel hands snake around your waist and pull you backward. Your back rests against her chest, the material of her t-shirt rubbing against the material of her hoodie that you’ve stolen without permission. A shiver runs up your spine, and whether it's from the cold or sheer anticipation, you’re not entirely sure.

Her hot breath tickles the back of your neck, furthering the sensation of too hot and too cold that's quickly spreading across your body and down the very center of your bones. If bone marrow could evaporate from internal heat, you’re entirely sure that inside of your body would be dryer than a dessert right now. You lean back into her, finally becoming lax in her grip rather than tense from shock and adrenaline. One hand stays around your middle, while the other runs down your body until it reaches the bare skin of your thigh. Her fingers are warm, and the faint pulse of electricity beneath her skin is noticeable as she drags her fingers upward, now snaking beneath the fabric of her hoodie and scoping out your pantie situation without shame. Wanda is always warm, no thanks to the magic that she harbors in her soul, but it's become a comfort even on hot summer days when she can’t get her hands off of you for longer than a few minutes.

Your breath hitches when she meets the lace of your panties that are already sodden from arousal no thanks to Natasha’s morning of teasing. For a moment, your girlfriend loses her composure and the fingers around your middle squeeze into your skin in shock for how moist the center between your legs already is, but that weakness quickly disintegrates into a dominating stance that weakens your knees.

“I see Nat’s had some fun with you already.” She mouths the words dramatically against the side of your neck, teeth catching against your skin every few syllables. Hot saliva dampens your skin, and the stroke of her tongue against the shell of your ear has your joints quivering for something more. You whimper a response that’s hardly audible, torn between grabbing onto her or leaning forward to hold the wall. Your body feels like jelly, no longer frigid from the low temperature of the apartment.

You’ve almost forgotten about the fingers between your legs in favor of focusing entirely on the hot tongue on your neck, but you’re quickly reminded of their presence when she resumes her adventure of breaking you down. Her fingers explore the lace with careful thought, her mouth sucking a deep purple bruise into your sensitive skin simultaneously. The stimulation you're receiving has your brain absolutely malfunctioning, and you almost don’t recognize her fingers pulling your panties to the side until it’s too late, and a finger is prodding your entrance and pushing deep into your velvety walls. The squelch of your juices is an embarrassing sound that echoes around the office, one that makes your eyes pinch shut in dread, but has Wanda entirely intoxicated. Her eyes are a deep shade of green, pupils blown out so wide her entire eye is almost black with lust. Her own thighs shake with need, but she’s so absorbed with you and your body and your reactions that it doesn’t register in her mind that she’s dripping down her legs.

The hand around your midsection wanders beneath the hoodie, pulling it up and exposing the skin of your torso as it makes its way higher. The lace covering your chest matches the lace of your panties in feel, and it's a softness and intricacy that Wanda hasn’t felt before. Her fingers are still hammering into you, but an added sensation of fingers pulling at your nipples sends your nerves into a state of pure white hot sensitivity that all you can hear is a high pitched ringing.

“Liking that new set I bought her?” Natasha leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest as she watches Wanda unravel you with ease, no thanks to her hours of relentless teasing. You’re like putty in the older woman's hands, melting into her chest with breathless whimpers and whines every time she strokes just right or not enough. Natasha’s resting easily, amused and turned on by the show she’s walked into, although she’d been counting down how long it would take Wanda to devour you whole once she realized you’d gone out in her hoodie. She always was the possessive one out of you three.

“Liking the show?” Wanda rebuttals, moving the lace away from your chest in favor of plucking purposefully at your nipples. The hand between your legs quickens its pace, though even with the brutal speed she’s jackhammering you with, there's a gentleness to her touch that amplifies the feelings she’s provoking. Natasha snorts, though there is little amusement in the sound, pushing off the wall and stepping closer to the pair of you. She wraps a hand around Wanda’s throat, squeezing in just the right way with just the right amount of pressure that has your girlfriend struggling to keep her eyes open, entirely dismantling the dominating stance she previously held.

Natasha smirks, leaning in close to Wanda’s face, reminding the redhead who’s really in charge. “Hands off. I’m gonna be the one to finish her off, and it’s definitely not going to be in my office.” Wanda huffs, retracting her fingers from your center, eyes pinched shut at the desperate whine you pitch at the loss of sensation.

“No! No please.” You’re desperate, arching your hips into the gentle hand that’s fixing the lace over your puffy lips, strings of arousal connecting your skin to the soft white lace that’s entirely ruined by now. Your gaze is hazy and unfocused, entirely lost in the trenches of pleasure that have abruptly stopped before you were ready.

Natasha shushes you, cupping your face in her freezing hands and lowering her lips to yours. Her kiss is sweet and slow, but your tongue is filled with urgency as it battles her for dominance, even though you’re aware that you’re not going to win. Natasha bites down on your bottom lip before she pulls away from the kiss, dropping her hands from your cheeks and giving you an even glance.

“Both of you in the bedroom. Now.” She demands, waiting for you to scramble out of the office and into the bedroom before she reaches toward the thermostat, and turns the dial back toward the low seventies, completely intent on buying a lock that keeps Wanda’s troublesome fingers away.

When she returns to your shared bedroom, she notices that the little clothes you had on have been scattered across the floor in messy piles, and that despite her warning, Wanda is between your legs, devouring your pussy with a feverish desire that almost distracts her from the plan she had. The redheads tongue laps at your sensitive folds, and the sound of suction being broken as Wanda pulls away from your clit in favor of lapping at your gushing entrance provokes goosebumps to rise on Natasha’s spine. The older redhead clears her throat, unhappy with the predicament she’s found the both of you in, although she has a feeling you’re not the one who initiated this encounter. The sound of suction being broken for the second time seems to remind Wanda of the orders she’s been given, and when she pulls away from your dripping center sheepishly to smile at Natasha with slick coated lips, a blush rises on her cheeks.

“I’ll get to you later.” Natasha rolls her eyes at Wanda, though there is a fondness in the way her lips quiver into a grin that she tries to hide for the sake of keeping up appearances. Not bothering to undress herself, Natasha kneels on the edge of the bed, bearing her weight on the mattress that sinks in tune with her. She hovers above your trembling body, drinking in the sight of you so pathetically desperate and aching for relief, knowing that she’s partially to blame without even touching you. “What about you, hm?” One evil finger snakes between your legs, ghosting over your swollen clit with a gentle pass before it disappears entirely. “Have you had enough teasing today, malysh?”

“Nat.” You whine in response, knowing that she knows the answer, and reaching for her t-shirt to pull her flush against your chest, desperate to close the gap between you. You whine when the fabric brushes against your sensitive nipples, no thanks to Wanda’s pinching and twisting earlier. “Please. Natty, please!”

Wanda’s a panting mess behind you, and with the jerky motions of the mattress, you have an inkling her hand in down her pants and she’s relieving the ache between her legs without interruption, unlike you. Your hips scramble to find a rhythm in grinding against Natasha’s leg, desperate whines falling around your lips as you get into a good pace that knocks your clit just right with every other pass. Cold hands settle on your hips after a few seconds, pinning you in place with gentle urgency.

“Stay with me.” Natasha whispers endearingly, mouth hovering just above yours now, her breath hot against your skin. She wasn’t so attentive all those hours ago at the shops, but you’re grateful for her change in heart that will hopefully lead to you getting that orgasm you’ve been chasing for days. “Mouth or fingers, which do you want?”

“M-Mouth. Your mouth, please. Please.” You beg, dropping your hands into her hair when she moves down toward your hot center, picking up where Wanda left off. The first pass of her tongue through your sticky folds is gentle, testing the waters, before she dives in completely, vulgar sounds escaping your lips as she goes to work in cleaning you out, pushing her tongue into your entrance as far as it’ll reach before extracting it and making a pass over your sensitive clit. Her fingers tug at your nipples, flicking over the sensitive nubs that have handled so much abuse already.

“M-More. Please.” Your broken request is met with efficiency, Natasha shuffling farther down your body and abandoning your nipples so that one hand can hold your hips in place, while the other plunges two fingers into your dripping entrance that was previously stretched out by Wanda. Your nipples aren’t left to recover for long however, as Wanda crawls overtop of you, sopping pussy in eyeshot as her hot mouth engulfs your over sensitive nubs with an urgency you’ve only met a few other times.

Natasha’s fingers are curling into your velvety walls, hitting that perfect spot inside of you that makes your nerves feel like there are a few thousand fireworks exploding inside of them. Straining your neck, you attach your mouth to Wanda’s cunt, moaning at the slight tang of her arousal on your tongue. Her hips twitch at the sudden sensation, entirely sensitive from her own stimulation just seconds ago, but within seconds she’s searching for more from you, beginning to grind into your mouth with a passion, chasing her own high as Natasha brings you closer to your own.

Natasha can feel you getting close around her fingers, so she doubles down on her pace, and blows a cold stream directly onto your clit, giving you permission to finally fall over the edge. As she coaxes you through your orgasm, Wanda falls apart as well, hips spluttering to find friction as she rides your tongue until she's satisfied, the both of you collapsing into a pile of weak limbs that provokes an infectious giggle from Natasha’s chest.

Crawling up into the center of the bed and settling into your typical cuddling position where you’re in the middle and Natasha’s are around both of you, she makes sure to drum her fingers against Wanda’s belly before speaking, “Wands, the next time you touch that thermostat, it won't end as nicely for you.”

#natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff smut #wandanat smut

[romanoffswands]

Photograph

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word count: 1895

Summary: When you and Wanda go through some old things in her family house, you recognise someone in an old photograph they have

A/N: Just a little idea I thought would be cute. I wrote this pretty quickly and didn't really edit it properly so I hope it makes sense lol Thank you @ageofevermore and @cuinaminute229 for helping my indecisive ass on the header. Any feedback or comments would be much appreciated, so let me know what you think!

There was a soft golden glow shining through the windows as the sun was beginning to say goodbye to the day. 

Taking a break from packing wasn't supposed to be long but the small group of you have been too distracted to notice the time passing. 

You came across the Maximoff family's old photographs that have been in storage. You couldn't help but flip through a photo album when you noticed they were of Oleg and Iryna's wedding day. 

It has been an hour since then, your future in-laws telling you about the relatives who have shown up as you go through different stacks of photos, some they have always been close with, some have now passed and others who are best to avoid. It was a well needed heads up for when you will have to meet them on your wedding day with Wanda. 

There are so many photos and recounts of the memories that go along with them; birthdays, anniversaries, family gatherings and all the moments in between. 

"What happened to Pietro's hair!" You exclaim, noticing a gold fading (badly) into a red colour when you flicked to a new page in the current album you were going through. 

Wanda looks at the picture laughing, explaining the memory, "He wanted to make his hair look like fire." Then she grimaces as her laugh dies out, scrunching her nose, "But he did it himself." 

You both giggle at the messy result and the sour look on Pietro's face as Oleg squashes his cheeks together. You can tell he was forced to sit there while the photo was taken at his expense. 

There was a reason you were initially going through old boxes from the attic of the Maximoff residence. You and Wanda were officially moved in together and having unpacked all the essentials weeks ago you decided it was finally time to get her final round of things. 

They would probably just end up in storage at your new house but at least Wanda would have all her things in one place. You had already done the same with your things last week. 

You hear the front door unlock, open and close signifying Pietro's return. 

After Pietro greets everyone, he notices, "Old photos?" He reaches down and picks up one of the albums, "Have you finished with getting the last of your things?" 

You and Wanda look guilty and shake your heads because you still haven't completed what you were here to do. 

"Get a move on, I've got things I need to go up there," Pietro chastises. 

Before you get to say anything, your future mother-in-law gets there, "It's about time you thought about settling down, son." 

"Ah mama, it will happen when it happens. You can't rush these things," Pietro says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I hope things are going well with Monica. She's such a lovely girl," she says, handing him a box to put behind him. He puts down the album he is holding and takes it from her hands. "Better than that last girl. Mantis, she called herself," Iryna cringes. 

"Mama!" Pietro exclaims to stop this conversation. 

You smile at the scene, you don't have any siblings so you have been treating Pietro as your own brother when you and Wanda got serious and you grew more comfortable with her family. 

Now that Iryna was done it was your turn, "Hey Piet, have you ever thought about dyeing your hair?" You ask. Pietro squints his eyes at you because of the 'random' question, "Maybe, err, yellow and red?" You laugh along with his family. 

"Ah! I thought I got rid of all of those!" He furrows his brows picking up a different album from before, "Where is it?" 

"You will never know, 'hot head'," Wanda responds. Getting a round of laughter. 

He gives Wanda a side eye before looking through the album he is holding. Eventually he takes a seat opposite you and Wanda on the floor. 

Pietro thinks aloud as he flips through the book he is currently going through, "Hey, I remember this place. We weren't there for long though." 

Iryna looks at the photo over Pietro's shoulder as he holds it up for her. She hums, agreeing, "We weren't there for long, two months I think?" She turns to Oleg so he can take a look. He walks closer and nods his head. 

He chuckles under his breath remembering, "My job at the time relocated me to the wrong place, it was such a mess and a huge headache." 

"I think I remember that, we were even enrolled at the local school for a little while," Wanda adds. 

Pietro notices another photo, this time one of Wanda and another student from said school. He passes it to her, "Do you remember this?" 

"Oh yeah!" Wanda takes the image from him, "We got along so well. I missed them for the longest time after we moved," she reminisces. "I don't remember their name. I don't think I ever got it, actually." 

"Such a good friendship you didn't even get a name?" Pietro laughs.

You finally look away from the album in your lap that has had your attention. Furrowing your eyebrows you recognise the child sitting beside Wanda in the image, "How do you have this?" 

All four Maximoff's look at you at the same time. 

You feel the silence until Wanda explains, "I completely forgot but seeing this photo I remember making one friend in my last few weeks there." She points at the two figures sitting with cheesy grins and arms wrapped around each other. "I can't believe I forgot about my time there." 

You are quite literally gobsmacked listening to the story unfold. 

Iryna chimes in, "Well, school had barely started before we moved again. It's not surprising you don't remember."  

"I know the name of the kid," you reveal. The others look in disbelief and wonder as you sit there smirking. 

"Really? How? Who is it?" They all ask questions at once. 

"It's me," you say with a breathy laugh. 

"What?!" Wanda looks closer at the picture and even her parents come over to get a better look. 

"No way," Pietro gasps as they all hover over the picture. 

"I told you where I moved from when we first met, remember?" You ask Wanda, getting her attention again. 

"I didn't know the name of the place, look how small we were," she replies, pointing at the image. 

Wanda then joins her family who are all mumbling different similarities between you and the child in the photo. You listen to as much as you can, chuckling to yourself pulling out your phone. 

Last week when you packed your final things from your parents home you too had found old albums there. With everything going on, moving houses and planning a wedding, it completely slipped your mind to show Wanda the old pictures you had taken snapshots of when you were younger. 

Putting the phone next to the photograph everyone compares the two. Wanda is speechless as she looks at you in the same disbelief you felt when you first saw the picture, "I can't believe it."

"Neither can I!" You scoff out. 

"This is so crazy!" 

"I know!" 

"Nothing can stop a great love," Oleg speaks, stopping you and Wanda with your back and forth while he casually walks away. But you and Wanda smile at each other blushing a little because of his comment. 

"We became friends so fast," Wanda leans into you, looking at the photo.  

"Yeah," you speak into her hair, kissing the top of her head. "And then you forgot about me," you finish cheekily. 

Wanda pulls away and smacks your arm. Then takes on an earnest look, "But seriously, I was so sad to lose you, I finally made a friend and a really cool one at that," she trails off. 

"We still found each other again though," you say. 

"Yeah, we did," Wanda says with a soft smile. 

You lean against each other to look at the photo for a little while longer. Looking at the happiness and innocence radiating from your younger selves.

Unbeknownst to you, Pietro snaps a photo on his phone of the two of you smiling down at the captured memory. In his mind this was him getting his wedding gift sorted. 

When you have been through the stacks of pictures, you eventually go back to packing the last of Wanda's things. It is all taken to your new place and you are both exhausted. 

You decide to leave unpacking it all until the next day and when you do, you come across the photo again. 

"Your mom must have put this in here," you smile at Wanda. 

She takes it from you and instead of putting it in storage she places it above the fireplace. You make a mental note to buy a frame for it. 

At the end of the day you sit on the couch after another exhausting day. 

"Fourteen years," you say randomly. Wanda looks at you quizzically so you clarify, "I worked it out, us meeting again after that photo was fourteen years." 

"Wow," Wanda breathes out, sitting against you as you wrap an arm around her. "I guess we were always destined to be together." 

Wanda looks up at you making you look down at her. You share a small kiss and when you separate you continue looking at the picture. 

You talk about how fate has brought you here and how thankful you are for finding each other again even without either of you knowing who the other was. 

"I guess our love transcends all boundaries." 

Wanda smacks your chest lightly, "You dork"

"Yesterday, you said I was really cool! You can't take that back!" 

"That was before the cheesy one-liner." 

"Well, you better get used to it. It will get worse when we get married. Not to mention the jokes I'll come up with when we have kids," you smile. 

Wanda looks up at you again so you meet her gaze, "Hmm, yeah, but I think you mean 'kid' as in singular," you smile at her correction of the future plans you have discussed, "and a dog, of course," she says innocently. 

"No, no, no, I never agreed to getting a dog. I said we could get a cat," you correct. 

"Don't worry I didn't forget about Tom," Wanda says nonchalantly.

"Tom?! We didn't agree to any names yet either!" 

"Are you sure? So where did I get; Wilma, our daughter, and Spike, our dog, from?" Wanda asks, raising a brow. 

"Probably the same place you forgot about the best friend you ever had," you say pushing Wanda, forcing her to lay on the sofa with you carefully placing yourself on top. 

You press your lips to her soft ones and because you are both smiling too much you have to stop. Instead, you settle with kissing the tip of her nose. 

"And here I thought we would be making these big decisions together. We still have a wedding to plan first, you know?" You muse. 

"Yeah, I know. But I can't help myself thinking of our life together," Wanda says, caressing your face. 

Just as fate brought you together, it has a few more surprises for you as you continue your life together. 

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #pietro lives

[romanoffswands]

OH, LORD SAVE ME

SUMMARY — after a night out with the girls, wanda gets possessive after learning maria couldn’t keep her hands to herself. oh, lord save me my drug is my baby i’ll get using for the rest of my life.

WARNINGS — nsfw minors dni, alcohol consumption, marijuana and cocaine usage, smoking a blunt, biting, face slapping, ass slapping, strap-on usage, vibrator usage, blowjob, brief nipple play, scratching, fingering, doggy/missionary, degradation, mommy kink, orgasm control, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, dom/sub dynamics, brat shenanigans

A floral aroma hits your nose the second you enter the bedroom. The rest of the house holds the scent of weed, and the scattered lighters in the living room tell you enough. The lights are low, and a nature documentary is paused on the television screen across from the bed, but no trace of your girlfriend is visible from the doorway. Remnants of white powder cling to the oak furniture you recently bought, and her credit card lies beside the evidence of a chased high. Wanda D. Maximoff is stamped into the card, already an obvious give away as to who the perpetrator is. The room spins as you walk deeper into it, and clumsily your body collides with the bedpost.

The fan is running in the bathroom, and the faintest tinge of yellow peeks out from beneath the door, shining into the room like slivers of sunlight hitting a prism. The shower isn’t running, and neither is the sink, either of the two an indicator that she’s ready to call it a night. It’s approaching two am now, and the sunlight that filled the bedroom before has turned to inky midnight. The spontaneous night out with some girlfriends from work has left you giggly, artificial cherry on your lips as your tongue swipes across them. You don’t bother knocking as you enter the bathroom, though the seconds you spend fumbling with the doorknob are enough warning that you’re coming in, not that she’d mind either way.

The sight of her, sprawled out on the floor, brown hair scattered about and bloodshot eyes staring at the ceiling gives you a pause for a second before you burst into giggles that shake the gold chains holding your dress up. The skimpy black number was one of Wanda’s personal favorites, but your girlfriend hadn’t been home when you left to comment on it. If she had been, your neck wouldn’t be as clear as it is now, only soft, healing hickeys remain from nights prior, not too bad for your usually bruised up appearance. Wanda startles at your added sound, but her eyes never peel away from their concentrated dedication to the fan on the ceiling. There’s an abandoned bowl laying next to her, and your customized red lighter is left on the countertop next to a bottle of water. Having to hear her whine about how dry her mouth is when she’s high is a nuisance, so you’ve begun to leave bottles of water in her favorite smoking spots, and clearly, it did you some good.

“Baby!” Your voice drags, slightly slurred together and raised in pitch as you tumble to the floor to lay beside her. Hating when your hair ends up in your face, you’d been proactive for a change, and had decided to braid it for your night out, and as you fall to the ground, it whacks Wanda in the face, but you don’t notice, too absorbed in trying to see what she’s so interested in. “I missed you!” When the fan no longer interests you, because why would it, you roll on top of her effectively elbowing her in the chest, and it’s enough of a commotion to finally break her concentration. The second her eyes are on you, a darkness blooms in the typically evergreen centers. Her huff of surprise for the air being knocked out of her lungs is only a half second long, before she's scanning your smudged makeup and biting down on her bottom lip that's in desperate need of some chapstick. “You smoked without me!”

“You weren’t home.” The accented edge to her words sends warmth spiraling down your bones. The alcohol having already flushed your cheeks and tickled your belly only amplified the desire that burned in your bones, igniting a flame so hot you were sure tomorrow wouldn’t see the light of day. “You look hot.” Her hands leave where they had been lying flat on the tile floor, grabbing your ass in rough handfuls that make you giggle.

“Mmm, wore your favorite dress. Maria got a little handsy. I think it’s a fan favorite.” You taunted her, dancing your lips across hers before pulling away to look at her face fully. Cocaine is still clinging to her porcelain skin, dusted between her nose in what looks like an attempt to wipe it away. Whatever makeup she’d been wearing before was gone, only a faint stain of black below her eyes that indicated she’d been rubbing her eyes before she took her mascara off. You shouldn't be so bothered by the state of her, but the combination of her wandering hands and hungry eyes was pulling you apart piece by piece.

Wanda growled at the mention of your mutual friend who was known for her wandering hands and sultry commentary, though it didn’t bring Wanda any amusement to hear about her interest in the dress. Not when she wasn’t around to remind Maria that you were hers. Your attention drops to Wanda's exposed neck, and your teeth find a home sinking into the soft flesh. Hints of her perfume twist with the scent of cocaine and marijuana, and it's entirely intoxicating. “Maria needs to learn to keep her hands to herself.”

“And what if she doesn’t?” Mischief swims in your eyes, and you sink your teeth into a particularly sensitive spot on Wanda’s neck, just beneath her ear. Her breath hitched, her hands grabbing at the fabric of your dress around your hips. Her entire body shudders, and for a moment, she freezes entirely to just enjoy the sensation that travels through her previously numb limbs.

Your tongue soothed the bite, dancing circles around the marks you’d left. Wanda’s eyes fluttered shut, bunching your dress up around your hips in favor of twisting the ridge of your lace panties between her delicate fingers. “Do I need to remind you who you belong to?”

“Why don’t you remind me?” You nipped her neck a final time before pulling away to watch her process your words, which were more like a silent invitation for her to have her way with your body.

Wanda shoved you off of her messily, a growl crawling from the depth of her throat as she watched you smirk like you’d been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “Get in the bedroom.”

“What? Don’t want to fuck me on the bathroom floor? Again.” Your breath tickled her wet skin, a cold shill crawling up her spine that she very narrowly avoided reacting to. “I’m sure Maria would.”

“Go.” Her tone left no room for arguments this time, and you scrambled to comply, although clumsily with your still strapped heels and spinning vision. Giggles spilled from between your lips when you rammed into the doorframe, completely absorbed in completing Wanda’s direction and not noticing how she spent a few extra minutes fumbling for something in the bathroom.

Your body sank into the soft bed, black sheets blending into the tiny dress you squeezed yourself into. The skin tight material still bunched around your hips in messy folds, exposing the front of your lacy black thong that left little to the imagination. Suddenly aware of how desperate you were without Wanda’s neck as a distraction, one hand slid between your legs while the other fumbled to grab your breasts through the thin material. Your panties were soaked through, sticking to your folds uncomfortably. Your thighs spread without any invitation, and you pulled them aside desperate for attention where you most needed it.

Eyes fluttering shut at the first stroke against your engorged clit, you didn’t hear Wanda shutting the cabinets and turning off the bathroom lights, only feeling her presence when a hand grabbed around your neck and startled you enough that your antsy fingers stilled between your legs.

“Did I tell you to touch yourself?” She growled, leaning over you with a dominating presence. Your head shook side to side quickly, your pussy abandoned. You ached for something more, but words failed you as you stared back at her. Something landed beside your head, but before you could look to see what it was Wanda was demanding more from you. “Use your words, you had no problem doing that before.”

“N-No.” You spluttered, fighting to keep your eyes open the longer she held your neck. Her fingers tightened, and it was then you realized she was still wearing her rings, the metal digging into your skin harshly.

“No, who?” The words pulled the breath out of your lungs, and you’re sure you looked like a fish out of water scrambling to find the right words to answer her. “Huh? Don’t make me wait. No, who.”

“N-No, Mommy.” You managed, gasping for breath when her hand finally left your neck, and it was only then you realized she had dug out your red strap, and her hand was holding the base tightly.

“Stupid slut.” She scoffed, moving backward so she was standing farther from the end of the bed. “Since you had so much to say before, I figured we’d put that mouth to use. Get on your knees.”

You dropped to your knees so fast you were sure they’d be bruised by the morning, but the only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted to feel her in your mouth. Bracing your hands on her thighs, you waited for her to instruct you to begin, knowing you were already playing a dangerous game. A smirk crept onto her lips at your clear impatience, and she was no stranger to making you wait. Spitting on her hand, she brought it down to the silicone cock, spreading it around teasingly. You whined, silently begging her to stop her torture and let you have a taste.

“What's wrong? See something you like?” Your girlfriend taunted, throwing her head back as she stroked the silicone cock, your favorite of the collection you’ve acquired since getting together a few years ago.

“Please.” You begged with hooded eyes, wanting to be the one that was turning her on and giving her pleasure.

“Please what?” Wanda cooed, voice dripping with lust as she watched you writhe in front of her, desperate for anything she wanted to give you. “Do you want to suck my cock? Feel it against your tongue? Let me fuck your mouth? Is that it?”

You nodded, tears pooling in your eyes the longer she made you wait. Your thighs pinched together, looking to relieve the aching in where you needed her most. She didn’t say anything about your actions, and for that you were grateful, but it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy you and she knew that. “Please. Please let me suck your cock, Mommy.”

“Get on with it then.” You wasted no time, one hand holding onto the base of the strap while the other stayed in place on her thigh. Her salvia has slickened the silicone, making it easier for you to take more of it quickly. She was heavy against your tongue, and for a second, you just enjoyed the feeling, before you began working the length with your hand and your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and letting the bulbous head ram into the back of your throat, desperate to please.

Wanda’s hand fell onto your head, a guttural moan leaving her lips watching you take her length. The strap wasn’t small by any means, one of your bigger ones, and yet you devoured her. Your eyes watered when she began to thrust at first shallowly, but losing her reserve the longer she watched you endure it. You gagged when she forced your nose to her pelvis, the cock practically down your throat, but she didn’t pull away, forcing you to feel her and remember who owned your throat. She pulled away with a pop, ready to absolutely obliterate your pussy.

“Strip. Panties and heels stay on.” You scrambled to comply, rising to your feet with shaky movements, not only from the anticipation of finally getting what you want, but the alcohol that was still coursing through your system. “Hands and knees. Ass up.”

Your dress ended up in a puddle on the floor to be dealt with later, and the bed sank with your weight as you got into position, impatiently pushing your hips backward to meet the scarlet strap. A slap left your ass cheek tingling, your body jolting forward in shock.

“Patience.” Wanda demanded thickly, sokovian accent twisting her words into something dangerous. Your entire body shuddered in anticipation, keeping your eyes forward knowing how much she likes it. You jumped when her fingers found your panties, tracing the lace design before slipping lower. Wanda groaned at how wet you are, thighs glistening with your arousal and panties clinging to your folds. She pulls them to the side, fingers toying with your lips and narrowly avoiding your clit each time she makes a pass around your pussy. “What got you this wet, moya lyubov'? Hmmm?”

With shaky breath, your head dropped onto the comforter, fists balling up the cotton material, “Y-You, Mommy. You did. You got me this wet.”

Her fingers pressed against your weeping entrance but never farther, pushing you farther and farther toward the edge of desperation, and from experience, you knew it was a steep fall. She wanted you at you breaking point, she wanted you to remember who owned you the next time you decided to fuck around. “Not Maria? But I thought you liked her touching what's mine?”

Brattiness tempted you to fuck with her, but your desperation to be touched was winning the fight, and you bit back your sarcastic answer in favor of finally feeling her and being given some relief. “N-no. I like when you touch me. I’m yours.” You gasped when she slipped two fingers inside of you, giving you a second to adjust before she began to scissor your sopping pussy. Every ridge of your pussy fit her fingers like a glove, and Wanda yearned to hear your whimpers as you sought out pleasure at her control.

“You gonna let Maria get handsy with you again when I’m not around?” Her fingers were set at a brutal pace, but still she avoided your aching clit that was begging for attention. Your hips stuttered, your eyes pinched shut so impossibly tight you thought you were seeing starts. When her fingers caressed the sweet spot inside of you, all thoughts vanished from your mind as you whined for more and less at the same time. “Are you. Going to. Let her. Get handsy. With you. Again?” Wanda repeated, annunciating each word with a harsh stroke against your g-stop.

“N-no! No I’m n-not! Please. Please!” You needed more. You needed her cock in your pussy, pounding you into the bed, or her fingers on your clit, you needed something more than just her brutal pace going in and out of your cunt knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to cum from just that.

“Please what, moya lyubov'?” She taunted, stilling her fingers all together but not pulling them out, just leaving you full enough to want more.

“Fuck me already!” You sobbed, turning your head to meet her eye, watching how she enjoyed breaking you down for her to play with.

“Are my fingers not enough for this slutty pussy? You need more? Desperate whore wants to get fucked?” She teased, pulling her fingers away from you completely and watching strings of wetness bead between her knuckles as she plays with your slick. She moans when she tastes you, fingers running your wetness across her tongue. “Get on your back.”

You watch as she walks away, pulling out a pre-rolled blunt and a lighter she stole from Natasha the last time the redhead was over. The black design stood out in the otherwise near darkness, the gold snake that wrapped around your favorite design in the stolen collection you both kept adding too. Wanda lit up, grimacing at the first hit that burnt the back of her throat. She blew the smoke out in a near perfect o shape, taking another drag before she came back to you. She passed off the blunt, climbing over top of you when you accepted it and took a drag. The grungy taste of smoke filled your mouth, adding to the heaviness in your limbs almost instantly.

“You ready?” She asked, positioning the bulbous head of the dildo with your entrance. You nodded, taking another drag before offering it to her. Her lips wrapped around it angelically, a stark contrast to how filthy the both of you were being. Wanda wasted no time, burying the dick in your pussy in one thrust, and setting a brutal pace as she fucked you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the blunt burning a hole in the comforter as ash fell off. You gasped at her brutal pace, reaching to set the blunt in the ashtray on your bedside table, immediately bringing your newly free hands to her back, digging your nails into her bare skin. Her tits bounced with each thrust, hanging over you with an invitation to pinch her perfectly pink nipples. Wanda's hands squeezed at your hips, gliding down your body until they reached your thighs. Pulling your legs further apart, the head of her cock rammed into your cervix, shooting white ropes of pleasure through every nerve in your body. Your back arched off the back, nipples pointed to the sky as you searched for more. The pebbled buds taunted your girlfriend, who leaned down hungrily and took one between her teeth, pulling at the sensitive flesh that was a one way shot to your clit.

“Please Wands, touch my clit.” You begged, tears welling in your eyes as pleasure built. Wanda's pace was brutal, and you were impossibly full, but she had still yet to touch your clit and every nerve in your body was burning with need.

“Hand me the vibrator.” She grit out through clenched teeth, leaving your nipples in favor of pointing to the scarlet vibrator she’d thrown on the bed before. Your hand fumbled to grab it, limbs shaking not only from the power of her thrusts but from desire. “God, I love this pussy.”

Wanda switched the vibrator to its second highest setting, settling it right on your sensitive nub. A sharp whine left your lips, back arching and hands searching for her skin. Your nails dragged marks down her back, your orgasm approaching quickly as she worked your over sensitive body.

“O-Oh, o-oh! Right there, r-right there!” You gasped, digging your nails into her hips, hips writhing to meet her thrusts and fall over the edge that was just out of reach. A hand slapped your cheek before moving onto pinch your nipples, your body alight with so many sensations you didn’t know how to react. “I-Im gonna cum! Mommy! O-oh I'm so close! I'm so close!”

Wanda slapped you again, shaking her head with pinched shut eyes, “Hold it.”

“I can’t!” You moaned, head thrown back and neck perfectly exposed for her to grab. Her fingers wrapped around your soft skin, squeezing in all the places that made you melt and worked you up simultaneously. Your head felt so heavy, your limbs each weighing a couple hundred pounds as they dropped onto the sheets and grabbed handfuls. “Wanda! Wanda I’m gonna cum! Im gonna cum!”

Minutes passed without a response from your partner, and the coil in your belly was desperately close to snapping with or without her permission, but before you could warn her, she was speaking, “Cum for me. Cum for me, slut.”

You came with a screech, but Wanda’s thrusts didn’t stop, they only seemed to amplify as she worked you through your climax and fought for her own, switching the vibrator to the highest setting despite the tears already falling from your eyes. “It’s too much. W-Wands it too much!”

Your body was alight will the combination of marijuana and alcohol, and your second orgasm was being pried from your body with a force that could break bones. Your teeth bit into your bottom lip so hard you could taste the metallic tell of blood, but the pleasure was so intense you didn’t care. “C-cum with me! Cum with me, dorogoy. Fuck. F-fuck.” The both of you exploded with a scream, Wanda dropping the vibrator somewhere on the bed and falling on top of you, heaving to catch her breath. The clock on your wall said it was after five am, and the drugs mixed with general exhaustion was pulling on her muscles.

“I love you.” She gasped, pressing soft kisses into your skin and wiggling until her feet weren’t dangling off the edge of the bed anymore. Her thighs were sticky from her orgasm, but neither of you cared to clean yourselves up. You kick your heels off, and Wanda undid the strap, throwing both objects somewhere in the room to clean and put away later.

Shimming out of your soaked panties, you grimace as the cold wetness brushed against your sensitive clit. “I love you too.”

A beat of silence fills the space, and you think she’s fallen sleep before she speaks again, “Did Maria really grab your ass?”

A giggle rustles your chests, and you shake your head while brushing your fingers through her tangled and sweaty hair. “She was too preoccupied with Nat to spare me a second glance.”

“You could’ve just asked to be fucked.” Wanda laughed.

“This was more fun.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #mommy kink #stoner!reader

[romanoffswands]

MIDNIGHTS

SUMMARY — just after midnight, when the world fades away, it’s just you and natasha that remain. or, in other words, you can hear it in the silence, you can feel it on the way home, you can see it with the lights out. you are in love.

WARNINGS — mentions of canon aou events, mentions of wanda basically being your child, tooth rooting fluff that should be illegal. the main thing is just nats memories of the red room but it’s very brief

Her lips are softest in the space just after midnight, after the day has exhausted her muscles and softened her walls, and all that remains is the truest reflection of the woman you love. Her skin shimmers in the orange hue of your bedroom, almost like she’s straight out of twilight and hiding something supernatural from the world. Beads of water drip down her back, creating a patch of wetness on the t-shirt she’s clad in. She’ll change again before she buries herself in the covers beside you, but for now, reminisce of her shower are visible on her body. She doesn’t leave physical evidence of life on her person for others to see. Never a stain on her top from a mishap in the kitchen, or a tear in the seam of a t-shirt that got snagged by the washing machine you’ve been meaning to replace. Outside of this space, outside of you, she is entirely picture perfect. You hate to say you’re keen on keeping this part of her to yourself, the human part, the gentle part. The world has hurt her and done her wrong so many times, and yet she still lets you see the vulnerability that isn’t quite faded as much as she likes to preach.

You’ve been in bed for a few hours, nuzzled into the headboard with the heavy covers over your thighs, reading yet another book that Wanda recommended. Your fingers trace the raised mark on the back cover. Months ago, you’d bought the redheaded witch her own embosser, and she’d happily sat with you for hours as she talked about her favorites and her least favorites, and stamped every single one with pride she tried to hide and push down. Although the young Avenger never complained, she was like your Natasha in a way, and having something of her very own after having to share and scour for scrapes for so long was the very least of what she was entitled too. You’d give her the world if she let you, but she was still new to this, new to freedom, and just like Natasha, she needed time to adapt. She had recommended a romance book weeks ago, left it outside of your bedroom door with a dainty ribbon tied around it and a new fountain pen for you to scribble notes in the margins with, but with reports to complete and clinical trials to run, you were only getting around to it now, and you clung to every word you read wishing you had gotten to do this sooner. To have this time to yourself to be just, Y/N.

The light flickered on in your closet, dismantling the orange glow of your reading lamp. The change in brightness burnt for seconds that felt like minutes, but you adjusted before Natasha even had the time to speak an apology into the space. These moments between you both were quiet, but thick. You’d crossed paths after she defected, and had spent the last how ever many years curating a relationship that didn’t need spoken words to survive. When she moved one way you moved the other, it was just in the way you loved each other. You could read her as easily as you read the book in your hands, and it was a privilege you recognized and didn’t take for granted. The first few months of Natasha being at Shield were rough. She was sharp on her corners and transparent in her own body, and one too many times she had snapped on you for trying to help, but you did wear her down eventually. It wasn’t your looks that did that either, although Natasha claimed on many drunken nights that you were the spitting image of an angel on earth, but rather your patience and your repetition in guiding her to trust her gut and the feelings she was taught were weakness. The anger she’d thought she’d felt in the pit of her belly for months when in your presence, had turned out to be fear. Fear of loving you, of letting herself be human, of becoming more than just an assassin or a follower. You would never take for granted where you are now, because just thinking about how things had started provoked a sickness to gather in the back of your throat. You didn’t hate very many things, too soft-hearted and genuine to believe that people could be inherently bad, but god did you hate what had happened to her and the people who had a hand in breaking her down. But, you used that hatred to fill her with love, to show her a side of people she didn’t think actually existed outside of fairy tales.

The closet light switched off after a few silent minutes, and when Natasha re-emerged, she was fully dry and dressed in your old college t-shirt and boxers that you had ordered for her a few nights before. Still, she didn’t like to buy things for herself, no doubt a deeply embedded trauma response and conflicting feelings of whether she deserved the full human experience, but you had no problem supporting her needs, until you got her through it. You had no doubts that one day, she’d buy a new pack of boxers for herself when she needed them, or even something entirely ‘useless’ like house slippers or a plant pot. Something just for her to enjoy because she deserved that. It would be little steps to you, but monumental leaps to her, and you eagerly awaited those days.

The bed sank with her weight as she climbed in, shuffling impossibly close and resting her head on your midsection. Her hair was still damp, and would leave a patch of moisture on your top when she inevitably rolled away to a comfortable sleeping position, but you didn’t mind. You craved feelings of her left on your body, knowing she had been there and she was yours and she was safe. She smelt of your body wash, a sign that hers had run out, and your heart warmed. You’d share everything with her for the rest of your life if you could.

“Wanda recommend another book?” She yawned, sleep heavy in her voice. Her arm that wasn't pinned to your side wrapped around your middle, and cold fingers snuck beneath your shirt and traced patterns into your skin. You hummed, taking one hand off the paperback book in favor of running your fingers through her hair. “She’s read all the ones in her library by now.”

The first thing Wanda had ever owned was the complete set of Harry Potter, a gift from you after her first week in the compound. Losing a family member wasn’t easy, losing your brother and moving in with strangers you fought against was even harder. She needed a distraction, and books had always been your preferred method. Something so intoxicating about falling into a world that wasn’t anything like yours, and letting any problems or stress fade away into background noise for a few hours. Wanda had loved Harry Potter, especially seeing as she had her own magic, and for a few weeks she’d cheekily repeat spells she’d read and twist scarlet wiggly-woos around in the air. Seeing how easily she relaxed when she was talking about a reality outside of the one she was stuck in was the only encouragement you needed to buy her more. Natasha suggested a few books too, though she’d asked you not to tell Wanda that. Her walls were high around the newbie, but there was no lack of love and understanding. To Wanda, trading books was your own little thing, but Natasha’s fingerprints were pressed into the spine of the hobby endearingly.

“Last I heard she ordered a new one was a few weeks ago, so she’s definitely finished it by now. We should get her more, Steve said she’s been excelling in training when I saw him last.” In the first few months of adjusting, encouragement was essentially gold, and showering Wanda in it felt like something you were meant to do. Natasha’s lips twitched, and she turned her nose into your side and nuzzled you sweetly.

“We don’t need a reason to get her new books, but I’m sure she’d appreciate a reminder that she’s doing well.” She taunted easily, loving the way that you cared for Wanda like she was your own. Admittedly, she had been apprehensive about the witch in the first few days of her being at the compound, rightfully so after being hurdled into memories of the red room and all the red in her ledger she was trying to wipe out, but you’d never harbored any negative feelings. You’d always just seen the broken little girl beneath a sharp exterior desperate to curate her own path and do good. The two of you weren’t sure if you’d ever expand your family, entirely content with it just being the two of you for right now, but Natasha would be a liar if she said it didn’t make her heart feel like liquid seeing how much you cared about the teenager.

“When are you going to tell her that yourself?” You questioned, deciding that you’d pick up the reading another time, and setting the book on your nightstand in favor of providing your girlfriend with your full attention. You hadn’t seen much of her in recent days, no thanks to her mission debriefs and training sessions as well as your own hectic schedule that just seemed to keep getting busier. “She looks up to you, Nat.”

Battling with the words she wanted to say, and trying to understand the feelings she’d not given much thought, there was an easy beat of silence before Natasha answered. “I know she saw some of what I did that night. Of the red room I mean. When we assessed her capabilities, it was something she mentioned briefly; that she could go into people's minds with them. I’m not– or I wasn’t somebody to look up to then. I see how much she clings to what I tell her, and… I want it to be right. I don’t want to say something half-assed when it means so much. To both of us. I see so much of myself in her from when I defected. What Clint said when he brought me in, it was perfect. She deserves the same.”

“When you’re ready, and you’ve figured out how to say it, it’s going to mean so much to her. I see a lot of her in your, not just from when you defected, but you’ve both got these iron walls built up. I think it would do both of you some good if you let each other in. She’s a sweet kid, Nat, and you don’t give yourself enough credit for how much impact your words have, anything you say will be perfect.” A lingering kiss was pressed into the crown of her head, and the arm around your middle tightened impossibly before it relaxed and she rolled away completely.

Voice thick with emotion she didn’t have the energy to confront, a gentle hint of Russian painted her words like it did most nights. Midnights were your favorite. Midnights were the only time when she let herself be the bruised Russian she hid away in the darkness and nothing more. “Can we lay down now? I just want to hold you and not think about how I have to train with Clint tomorrow morning.”

A breathy laugh shook your ribcage, “I’ll have to stop by at some point. Hopefully he doesn’t end up in a headlock again. Laura wasn’t too happy about that last time.”

Natasha grumbled lowly, pulling you down on the bed and into her arms just after you turned the reading lamp off, intending on wasting no more time than what had already slipped by. The hours the both of you were able to sleep were decreasing the longer you sat talking. “He shouldn’t have shot me with his stupid suction cup arrow then.”

“You had a red mark on your chest for hours.” You remembered fondly, pressing the tip of your nose into her. The curve in the bridge of your nose fits perfectly in hers, like a puzzle with only two pieces. Her lips puckered to peck yours before they relaxed, just resting easily against yours, and the remnants of her favorite chapstick was smooth between you. “It’ll be my turn to yell at him if he marks you up again. I should be the only one doing that.”

Despite her amusement, sleep was beginning to pull Natasha away from you. “Less talking, more sleeping.” She demanded, words only getting thicker with hints of russian as she let herself go and truly escaped everything that she’d done in the day.

“Goodnight, Natalia.” You pecked her lips with a purpose before you shuffled around and twisted so your back was flush against her chest, melting into her arms as they wrapped around you protectively. Over a decade out of the red room and she was still terrified of somebody taking you away from her in her most vulnerable moments, but it wasn’t something you’d ever complain about, feeling safe in her strong grip.

“Goodnight, дорогой.”

And within seconds, the both of you were asleep.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #avenger!reader

[romanoffswands]

send in some blurb/fic ideas for wanda, nat, and kate 🫶🏼

#feeling very writey so do with that what you will

[romanoffswands]

SO SCARLET IT WAS

REQUEST — can you do a blurb of Wanda and reader? where reader has been sending wanda love letters anonymously. in the end it's revealed it was reader and wanda asks why they would do that when they are already married

WARNINGS — mentions of canon age of ultron events, mentions of canon civil war events, mentions of natasha’s death in endgame although very brief for my own sanity more then yours, parent clint and nat although it’s more nat focused, fluff to the max

AUTHORS NOTE — i don’t wanna talk about how this was supposed to be a blurb. also, for the sake of this timeline, wandavision is genuine not a scripted reality. wanda and reader did everything the right way and found a life together in westview

AGE OF ULTRON

You shouldn't have fallen in love so easily, especially not with her, you were a trained Avenger for thors sake, love was supposed to be at the bottom of your priorities barrel. That was easier said than done, because from the very first time that your eyes met across the battlefield, everything inside of you froze, skipped, and stuttered all at once. You should’ve been alert enough to detonate the blast before it could wound Clint, usually you were steps ahead of it, but her eyes were absorbing all the explosions around you and the soft watercolor green was alight with fireworks so beautiful you couldn’t look away. After that, you stood no chance of ever clearing her from your head. Even if she was supposed to be the enemy, even if you’d never experienced love before. Nat and Clint gave you the benefit of the doubt at first. You never missed your mark on a mission, but the cold temperatures and the fact that Helen said your heart rate was alarmingly high for your average bpm had given them the slightest indication that something was bothering you. That maybe, you hadn’t been so recovered from your history with Hydra as they thought. So, they sent you back to therapy.

Truthfully, therapy distracted you from her for a while, revisiting your past could distract you from anything for a short amount of time, but then you started having dreams. Not the nightmares that tickled your belly and drenched you in sweat and had you knocking on Natashas bedroom door at three in the morning looking for evidence that you really had been saved, but dreams of what ifs that all included her. Dreams where Natasha and Clint weren't the ones who found you barely clinging to life in an abandoned facility in Russia, dreams where it was her. That should’ve been the second indicator that you were never going to escape the curse she laid upon your heart without a single word. But you still tried to convince yourself that you could get over this, that you could see straight with clear judgment.

When she got inside of Natasha’s head the second time you crossed paths, you should’ve been enraged. You should’ve been cured of any delusion you harbored in your heart, but the attack only made you hurt for her. If things had played out differently, if Natasha and Clint had found her like they’d found you, maybe she wouldn’t be the enemy. If Natasha and Clint hadn’t found you, maybe you’d have ended up in her shoes, afraid to go against the only orders you knew. In moments like these, where Natasha’s half unconscious lost in her mind, and Clint is rolling in panic, and Tony is enraged and defeated, you seem to be the only one aware enough to recognize that maybe this is all she knows. That maybe, she’s just trying to not to get hurt again.

Natasha sees your feelings for what they are a few hours after landing at the farm. You had been sorting through your small selection of clothes that Laura organized in the back of the guest room closet while Natasha took a shower. You wanted to find something loose that didn’t irritate the healing wounds on your side from the first mission, but you were so far in your head you’d looked at the same shirt four times without realizing. Natasha had watched the entire event unfold, and like she never could when it came to you, fought feelings of rage and pride. You are the closest thing she’s ever going to have to a daughter, and watching you fall in love with someone so dangerous, she doesn’t know what the appropriate reaction is.

“You like her.” The assassin's tone was even, not giving away if she felt one way or another about the predicament you’ve landed in, but keeping her posture open so you wouldn’t shut down like you had a habit of doing. She and Clint knew you like the back of their hand, how had it taken them this long to realize you weren’t just reeling at the confrontation of your past, but falling in love with the enemy. You hadn’t even noticed she was still in the room with you, and that the shower water hadn’t been running at all. Every muscle in your body tensed, you were caught, and this could only go so many ways.

“I'm sorry.” With wide eyes, you faced your mentor who had become like a mother to you in the last decade. You weren’t a kid with heavy PTSD anymore, you had overcome most of it, not without extensive work and self-reflection, but for the most part, you were just an ordinary teenage girl who saved the world on occasion. That’s what Clint and Natasha saw when they looked at you. That wasn’t the girl Natasha was looking at now. She was staring eye to eye with a child tortured by Hydra. A child without family and without confidence in herself. A child who thought she was about to be hurt.

In that moment, Natasha abandoned the rage she was clinging onto in her belly. At that moment, Natasha decided to lean into her pride, to just be your mother instead of your mentor. You had found somebody you cared about, and as your mother, she would be elated to help you recognize that feeling without holding onto the shame you were undoubtedly forcing yourself to remember. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Malyshka.”

“She’s the enemy! She hurt you, she-she could’ve killed Clint!” You spluttered, trying to reason with yourself that this wasn’t a good thing. That you were insane for trying to redeem a girl who had almost torn apart the only family you have.

Natasha forced herself to see the situation from your shoes, something she admittedly should’ve done from the get. She forced herself to remember that you had been with Hydra for six years of your life, that had she and Clint not found you, you might’ve ended up on the same field with Wanda playing against them. She never wanted to think about that possibility, never wanted to think about how little her life would mean without you, but in another universe, she’s sure that's how it played out. “She’s just a kid who doesn’t want to get hurt. But you didn’t fall in love with the enhanced, did you?” Natasha asked, and your cheeks flushed so violently scarlet they were almost maroon, almost the same deep shade as the magic tendrils that danced between your crushes fingers. “When the blast hit Clint, you were frozen. I thought you were stuck in a flashback, that the cold had brought you back to that abandoned base, that wasn’t it, was it? You were looking at her. You were seeing her as a person, not a weapon. Something we all should’ve done a lot sooner.”

“She has the greenest eyes, Nat. But-but after the blast hit Clint, she-she was so scared. She’s just trying not to get hurt. Something happened to her, I think she’s still scared because of it.” You admitted, tears welling in your eyes at the possibility of her getting hurt at your hands, because at the end of the day, you would never sacrifice Clint and Nat for her. At the end of the day, your side was with the people who raised you.

“Whatever you choose, Clint and I support you.” Natasha hated that her voice shook with tears, she hated that you were growing up, she hated that you were being shoved into a corner where you had to pick between finding out who you were as a person, or being an Avenger.

At the mention of your mentor who was like a father, your chest grew tighter. She almost killed him. She almost took him away from you, from his kids, from his wife. How would he ever forgive you for choosing her? “She almost killed him, Nat.”

“You will never, never lose us. Get that thought out of your head, right now.”

You sniffled, shuffling your feet against the carpeted floors to feel something other than stabs of aching pain in your chest. How did you end up here? “I don’t blame Clint if he doesn’t forgive her. If it comes down to his life or hers. I don’t blame him if he chooses to live.”

“Malyshka, I could’ve shot him the first day I met him. There is not an ounce of self-preservation in his bones. He sees the good in people too easily to just give up on them. Just like you. If it comes down to him or her, he’s choosing the both of them. You know that as well as I do.”

“Nat?” You asked softly after silence had fallen over the two of you for a beat, her words circling your head and your heart on a loop. When your mentor hummed, you spoke again, this time admitting what you’d been trying to deny. “I think I love her.”

CIVIL WAR

You didn’t want to believe what you were hearing. You didn’t want to believe that half of your team and mentors had signed the accords, that they had agreed with Secretary Ross to an extent and therefore fed into the bullshit propaganda that the enhanced were dangerous. You were almost enhanced. If Hydra had succeeded, you would’ve been all the same as Wanda and the new vigilante Spiderman. Had they forgotten that? Did they really only see Wanda for her powers? Not for the teenage girl that had lost her parents and her brother and been manipulated and abused and used as a test-subject? Had they just let that slip their mind so easily?

You hadn’t left Wanda’s side since Natasha broke the news to you. Almost a year had grown between now and the events of Ultron, and the former was trying her best to fit in, to make up for all the red in her ledger at the hands of Hydra. She was making leaps of improvement, but that still wasn’t enough. She was still just another enemy in the eyes of Secretary Ross, and he had asked you to do the impossible. Choose a side. Why was everyone making you choose a side?

Wanda tried not to let you see how much this was upsetting her, but from the moment you saw her across the battlefield you’d been able to read her like she was your favorite book. When she held you at night, you could feel how tense she was. When she walked around the compound, you could see how uncomfortable she felt and how she wanted to just melt away and not exist. It broke your heart, but once again, you’d been put in a situation where you couldn’t do anything to help. A situation where the majority saw you as just a kid unfortunate enough to have no real family.

“Let's run away.” You suggest one night when you’re wrapped up in nothing but a thin blanket and Wanda’s arms, far far away from reality and for this one single moment in time, it’s just the two of you. Just Wanda and Y/N. There aren’t any superpowers, or any Avengers level threats, or United States government officials trying to control them like objects the same way Hydra had. It’s just them. Just two teenagers broken by life and in love.

“To where.” Wanda hummed, her lips flush against your neck as she fought sleep to instead spend this moment with you. The vibration of her voice tickled your belly in the sweetest way you had ever experienced, and a flush spread across your cheeks so scarlet in color it was almost maroon.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Ohio. I hear it’s the best place to create your own reality.” You admit shyly, picking up the cold hand that's draped across your midsection, and beginning to play with her fingers and pull at her knuckles to hear them crack the way she loves, especially after training sessions with Natasha where their main focus had been working on controlling her magic. Secretly, you love the way her muscles contract after her knuckles pop and how she involuntarily squeezes your hand in hers. Secretly, its not a secret at all.

Wanda lets you play your game, knowing your intention but having never shared her knowledge with you. She finds it cute how eager you are to feel her, even in ways as innocent as this moment. And secretly, although it's no secret to you, she loves feeling you all the same. She loves coming up behind you and hugging you tightly, she loves when you just lay against her and shudder every time her breath tickles your neck, she loves when it's just the two of you in a moment as nothing more than girlfriends. “What would we be in this reality?”

“Fiances.”

Wanda snorts, laughing so hard the muscles in her belly tighten and her face goes scarlet. “We’re a little young for that, detka.”

“Childhood lovers. We would’ve been best friends since Kindergarten. You would’ve asked me to be your girlfriend in the fifth grade, after I failed a spelling test and wouldn’t stop crying. I would have said yes without a pause. We would’ve never broken up, and our parents would have loved it. Pietro would’ve teased us, but he would be happy for you. And when we graduated high school, you would’ve gotten down on one knee right then and there. We wouldn’t waste a single moment. And Nat and Clint would be elated. Your parents would call me their daughter. It would be perfect, our life in Ohio. Nobody would bat an eye at how young we are, because love doesn’t know numbers, it just knows feelings.”

Wanda sniffled, wondering how she could get so lucky to have you. “Would we have kids?”

“Two. Twins. I would think they were girls the entire time, and I would ask that we name them Natalia and Lauren, but you would know that they were boys. You never told me that, but when they were born you’d tell me you dreamt it. Two boys, William and Thomas. We’d call them Billy and Tommy. They’d be just like you. Stubborn and silly, but the sweetest angels. Our life would be complete.”

“And we’d raise them in Ohio?”

You shook your head, twisting in Wanda’s arms so you could see her watercolor eyes. Even without explosives lighting up the room, there are fireworks in them. “I would find us the perfect plot in New Jersey. We would build a home for them, where they could just be kids, and we could be the cool moms who host sleepovers and invite the entire town to birthday parties. Nat and Clint would visit on holidays, and they’d be sad that we moved away, but they’d be so happy for us. We would be so happy.”

ENDGAME

How could this be happening? How could you spend five years without the woman you love, and the second you have hope of getting her back, lose the woman who was the closest thing you had to a mother? How could you gain the weight of hope, and lose it in seconds. Five years without Wanda was agonizing, but you never feared for a second that you wouldn’t get her back. You had lost too much to give up, and when Tony had come to the compound, saying he found a way to get everyone back, how did you not know that you would lose everything all over again? How had you let his words sound like a fairytale? Why was the world always sacrificing the things that completed you? Why did you think for a second you could ever be completely happy?

WANDAVISION (wandayn sounded wrong)

“This is the sixth letter I’ve found since Monday!” Wanda was exasperated, coming into the kitchen with her arms full of babies and letters. Her messy red hair was tied back, away from her face, no doubt due to the fact that Billy and Tommy had just entered a phase where they loved to grab and yank at your hair if you left it down and in reach.

“Oh? What’s this one say?” You quizzed, brushing flour off of your hands and grabbing the dishrag. The kitchen was a disaster as you attempted to bake a cake for the twins first birthday, but you couldn’t care less about the mess as you took in the sight of your wife. She looked absolutely ethereal, with hair so red it was almost maroon and love in her eyes so exuberant it was like a never ending firework show.

“Something about how I complete them!” She was completely at her end with these letters, and the anonymous slash at the bottom that gave away nothing about who it could be from. The both of you had come a long way since mourning Natasha and finding a life for yourself in New Jersey, and the last thing Wanda wanted was somebody tearing apart everything that was finally good. That was finally easy. You both deserved this more than anybody else.

Your eyes sparkled mischievously, a glint of something chaotic catching Wanda’s attention. “They’re from you, aren’t they!” She gasped, handing you Tommy when he started to fuss, and adjusting Billy now that her other arm was free. You giggled, looking for an escape route but your moment was short lived as Wanda came closer and her hips pinned you to the island. “Why!”

“I’m in love with you. I thought you should know.” You answered simply, although it was so much more than that. Losing Natasha hadn’t been easy for either of you, leaving the Avengers was almost harder, because it was the last piece of Nat you had left, but you knew that she would’ve wanted this for you. She would’ve wanted you to be happy, to have a family, to find everything she wasn’t able to find because of her past. The life you lived now, as much as it was for yourself and for Wanda, it was for her and all that she had given to you.

“We’re married!” Wanda beamed, “I already knew you loved me!”

You giggled, leaning up to kiss her sweet scarlet lips, but a baby hand kept you from kissing her. “Do you want a kiss, Tommy? Do you want some love?” You giggled, showing his tiny palm in kisses before moving on to do the same thing to Billy, wondering how you had come so far from battlefields in only a decade.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff

[romanoffswands]

Addiction

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Talks of drinking and drugs. Sexual themes but nothing completely explicit. Toxic relationship. Manipulation. Cheating.

Word count: 3159

Summary: You can't stop yourself from falling under Wanda's spell.

A/N: I thought of this when I heard the line "There's something about the way you look tonight" from the song Billie Bossa Nova by Billie Eilish. I actually didn't realise how similar this was to the song until I listened to it again then tweaked it to fit the song a bit more. Also, this is very different to what I usually write so I'd appreciate any comments letting me know what you think. As always, enjoy!

CHECK THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT MEDIA YOU CONSUME

These parties were becoming more and more of a nuisance with how often you were being forced to attend them.

There was no point in you being here.

Happy people having fun, you would roll your eyes more if you could.

A final space is waiting at the bar as if it is reserved for you. Taking the seat you order a drink then look around. Seeing the different groups of people chatting away does nothing to help you. You really do not want to be here.

You turn your back on the excited murmur, trying to drown it all out whilst waiting for your drink. You wish you could have ordered something stronger, anything to cover up the bitterness in your mouth. The gum in your mouth now feels like you are chewing on plastic. It is just something to distract you anyway.

When the bartender places your drink in front of you, you immediately take a sip. The ice in your glass clinks against the edges when you turn in your seat to look at the crowd of people that fill the room once more.

Pretentious is one word to describe them. People who want nothing more than to look important. Elite. When really everybody is just as scared as the next person to lose their deluxe lifestyle.

Not long later your head turns to the entrance when two people arrive. Your gaze moves along with them as they walk into the venue, arm in arm, greeting different people as they pass. The 'perfect' couple.

It makes you sick but when you try to pull your eyes away you can't. There is something about the way she looks tonight. She always did look good in red.

It isn't as strong as it can be but she will always have you under her spell. Your attention is drawn away when a hand brushes her cheek. A hand that isn't yours. No. It is from the one she chose in place of you.

The action is enough to get you to look away as if someone has thrown poison in your eyes.

You take another sip of your drink and just as you expected it does nothing to calm you. It is like there is no taste. All that is left in your mouth is a sourness since she left you.

The woman who haunts your dreams isn't yours anymore. These stupid parties are an additional reminder of that. It is bad enough you have to see them every day around the compound together.

You can't even look him in the eye. Your mind is filled with thoughts you shouldn't have about her anymore.

It's not your fault you know what she looks like under that dress. The intoxicating sounds she makes when you press all the right buttons. How sweet she tastes. Everything is dull in comparison.

You miss being able to steal that nectar from her lips at random times of the day. It has changed your pallet forever. Nothing will ever compare, no matter how hard you try to replace it.

The weight on your chest, that was supposed to get lighter with time, just gets heavier. Guilt always lingering in the back of your mind.

A sarcastic voice pulls you out before you can spiral any further, "And here I thought you would be pouting." Natasha. Always there to make you realise how childish you are behaving.

Natasha was the biggest advocate for you and Wanda. She still hopes one day you will reconcile, even with that walking toaster in the way.

You clench your jaw, a probable gloomy look resting on your face as you let out a sigh and look down at the glass leaving your hands damp with condensation.

"Please don't, Nat," you try to push her away. Knowing your friend though, this was long from over.

"What? I just came over to see if you wanted to dance," she says casually but you know there is a reason for it.

Your eyes fall to the dance floor. Wanda's arms are wrapped around the wrong person. She looks happy, a slight blush on her cheeks that makes her look youthful. You can't help but feel jealous. She used to look at you like that.

The weight on your chest grows heavier. You knew you wouldn't make it through tonight. It's why you didn't want to come but 'appearances need to be upheld'. Who are you to not meet Tony's demands? He has given you a place to live after all.

"No." It comes out a little more aggressively than you want it to but you know Nat won't take it personally.

"Ouch," she feigns hurt, "Is this how you treat a lady that wants you?"

A scoff leaves your lips and you smile a little at the joke, deciding to reciprocate, "I'll let you know when a lady approaches me," you smirk.

Natasha chuckles, glad for the win to get you out of your head, even if it is just for a second.

"You know how Steve feels about gum at these functions," she says, extending her arm, a napkin resting in the palm of her hand for you to spit out the flavorless substance into.

As Natasha scrunches the paper into a ball leaving it on the bar top you explain, "It distracts me from wanting to put a 'death stick' in my mouth."

"Well, I could always distract you if that's what you wanted," she flirts with an eyebrow raised.

You shake your head at her antics. A small smile is on your face as you look down into your drink. There are darker shade spots on your pants from where droplets of water have rolled off your glass.

Natasha takes the tumbler from your hand and places it next to the napkin. She then pulls you from your seat, "Come on. Dance with me."

You let her guide you, keeping your eyes to the ground so you don't see the green ones you used to wake up to.

When you make it to the crowded floor Natasha places your hand on her waist, the other one following shortly after as she wraps hers behind you, drawing you in and resting her chin on your shoulder.

It's a slow song so Natasha stays close to you, unbeknownst to you she is keeping an eye out for Wanda.

Getting bored of looking at the ground you close your eyes and take in the warmth that Natasha provides with her closeness. The comforting press of her chest against you, soothing as you sway lightly to the soft music. You were never good at dancing but this, you could do.

It must be a few songs later because the people who surround you are different to those who were there when you first arrived.

There is a misstep on your part and you bump into someone, an automatic 'sorry' falls from your lips before you see who it is.

"It's okay," Wanda smiles at you and you almost forget how to breathe. You shouldn't be here. You have been doing so well breaking old habits.

Natasha links her arm in yours standing next to you as you avert your eyes, clearing your throat. You can't look at either of them, especially the android. The bitter taste you are so familiar with makes itself known at the back of your throat.

Vision and Wanda exchange a few words of greeting with you and Nat before Vision looks in the distance. He then excuses himself saying Tony was calling him over.

The habit of you trying to stop clenching your teeth is really being tested right now, you can't help yourself so you give in to the action. Especially when Natasha decides to play wingwoman, excusing herself next and telling you to dance with Wanda now that you were both alone.

This is not what you needed. All your hard work is about to come crumbling down and you know it.

Natasha often talks about how good you are for one another and how she wants to see the two of you flourish once more.

If only she knew.

All you want to do is run away. Get as far away from Wanda as possible but old habits die hard. The smell of her perfume and inviting smile doing nothing to help your resolve.

Wanda takes her position, arms around your neck. Your hands rest on her waist keeping her at, a literal, arms length away. You fall into step with the music, this is all a familiar well rehearsed dance between you two.

She tries to hold your eye contact but you look behind her, "I saw you by the bar, but you don't smell like your usual order," Wanda analyses. "You stopped smoking too?" She adds inquisitively. Your reply comes as a slow nod, still looking at a random spot in the distance behind the band not wanting to get hooked by her gaze.

"You're doing better than you ever did when we were together, malysh," your jaw clenches hard. Whether it is because of accusation or the pet name, you are not sure.

Wanda can feel how tense you are. Your shoulders are practically up to your ears so she strokes the back of your hair, fingernails lightly scratching the sensitive area.

"Just relax," she whispers, making you exhale slowly. Her actions and warm breath fanning over your face makes you do just that, your eyelids falling slowly, shoulders dropping evidently, "That's it baby, it's just you and me."

She pulls you closer so she can whisper directly in your ear. Her words calm you down unlike any drink or narcotic you've consumed before.

Her voice is soothing, so much so that you are under her spell once more. She has never needed to use her powers to have you under her control. You were always weak whenever it came to Wanda. "Let's get out of here," your head bobs up and down, slowly agreeing to her command. You allow yourself to get pulled along by her, out on to a private balcony.

It is like you are on autopilot, turning into the character she likes you to be. You just want to make her happy after all.

Wanda rounds a corner where you both know nobody inside will be able to see the two of you. Facing you she walks backwards, holding onto your jacket. She leans against the wall pulling you closer. One of your hands holds your weight beside her head as the other goes to squeeze her waist.

Wanda pulls you by your collar to close the distance. Your lips were always much better at dancing, especially against hers.

It wasn't always like this. You were heartbroken when she left you, you still are heartbroken, and you know it's wrong because she is with Vision now. But you still crave her. She is an addiction you cannot break. So you will take whatever she gives you. It is the best and worst kind of torture.

Heat travels up your neck, filling your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Your senses are overtaken by Wanda. Her sweet taste invades your mouth, her nails scratching your scalp as she holds onto you tighter when the kiss gets rougher.

You press your body against her tightly, your hands finding the bottom of her dress pulling it up. Her heavy breathing is interrupted by a gasp as the cool air hits her warm skin. You take this as the perfect moment to move your kisses to her neck and lift her so her legs are wrapped around you. That is when Wanda feels the bulge in your pants.

"I hope you weren't thinking of anyone else but me, malysh," she says between breaths.

There is an innocent pout on her face when you look at her and mindlessly reply, "Only you."

Your lips land on Wanda's as she tries to rub herself against you but you hold her still, pressing her against the wall even more, making her grunt in frustration when she can feel the hardness pressing into her. "I need more," she exasperates.

You roll your hips with hers, giving her the smallest bit of satisfaction for a moment, making her moan loudly. She holds your jaw roughly, "Please sweetheart. I need you. You know what I like. No one can fuck me like you do."

Her words almost make you lose all of the self control you still have left, but you come to your senses when a cold gust of wind hits you, making you remember where you are. "Not here," you whisper. You then leave a trail of kisses along her jaw finishing with a peck on her lips.

You let her down and keep out of sight as you walk hastily to get to your room. Wanda smirks, biting her lip when you make it to the elevator. She pushes you against the far wall then attacks your lips and neck. Unbuttoning your shirt she leaves a mark or two on your collar bone. You don't get the same privilege.

No one can know.

When you finally make it to your floor, you enter your room only wanting to make Wanda feel good. The little voice in the back of your mind reminding you she is no longer yours is forgotten as your rendezvous continues.

…

Wanda sleeps against you. The sound of her light breathing filling the air.

Her warmth and having her tangled in your sheets comes at the cost of your sanity. To you it is but a small price to pay.

No one knows about this and it has to stay that way.

You can't even tell Nat. She understands why Wanda initially broke up with you but now that you were doing better she has hoped you could have reconciled if not for Vision.

You try to take in the peace of the night. You try not to think about the guilt that lingers after you fall into bed with each other. You try not to think about the fact that Wanda will have already disappeared by the time you wake up in the morning. You try not to think about the rehearsed repeated lie you tell Nat when she asks where you disappeared before the night ended.

The woman in your arms will always be the love of your life. She will always take advantage of you because she knows she can and you will do whatever you can to get whatever crumbs she will give you.

…

Falling to sleep always came easier when she was in your arms. You stir awake when you can no longer feel the comfortable weight on your chest.

Lifting your head, you are confused when you see her almost out of bed, "Wanda?" You ask groggily, reaching for her wrist.

There is no reply but your mind catches up, it is the time of the night where she leaves you for the arms of another. You let out a sigh and drop your head into the plush pillow whispering, "Stay."

"Go back to sleep, Y/n," Wanda lays next to you, stroking your hair. "You know I have to go."

"Please stay," your voice is barely audible because of the tight knot that has presented itself in your throat.

You don't mean to sound so desperate but you are tired and far too broken to pretend that you are okay.

Wanda wraps her arms around you as she continues to stroke your hair. She shushes you and whispers sweet words in your ear as your face presses against her bare chest.

It doesn't take long for you to fall into the depths of slumber once more.

The next time you wake up, Wanda is gone. The once warm sheets are now cold, holding another secret which costs you a piece of yourself.

The bitter taste has returned to your mouth once more as you get up to start your day.

It is long before most people will be getting up considering the party the night before. You pick out a loose t-shirt and some sweats so you can take advantage of the empty kitchen before anyone else gets up.

You start up the coffee machine and wait for it to heat, trying to find peace in this quiet morning. Just like all good things, it comes to an end, "Morning stranger," you hear the husky voice of your friend.

You try not to roll your eyes, knowing she would have some way of knowing even without seeing your face, "Looks like someone had some fun," Natasha says pointing out the marks on your neck. "What was her name?"

After you pour two mugs of the hot beverage you turn to face her with a tight-lipped smile, "Distraction," taking a small sip after.

The coffee is not strong enough to cover the distaste in your mouth.

"Okay, fine. Don't tell me," she says as she gets closer. "But I am glad you had some fun," Natasha says, rounding the island to pick up the mug you left for her.

You raise an eyebrow, "Don't I always?" Which Natasha scoffs at. "If you don't mind, I'm going to finish this in my room before our training."

As you walk back you hear a door open and close, figuring it will be Steve, you don't look up until you recognise the two voices.

You divert your attention from Vision as soon as you make contact with his synthetic blue eyes, your sluggish steps never stopping. The guilt creeps up the back of your throat, so you do your best to clear it.

Vision greets you first, "Good morning, agent Y/l/n." Who is followed by Wanda giving you a sweet smile, "Morning Y/n."

"Morning," you manage to get out as you brush past them. You make it to your room and swiftly close the door behind you.

Placing your coffee down on your desk, you lean over it taking a deep breath. Hot tears threaten to fall but you try with everything you have to push them down and control your breathing.

The lies are easy, you have always been good at telling them - when the drinking became too much and you were out getting whatever you could get your hands on to dull the ache that comes with being an Avenger. The lies would easily spill from your lips. It's keeping up the act that is the difficult part.

You know you shouldn't but you think about the inevitable; falling back into bed with Wanda again. You could call it an obsession at this point.

You just wish you were stronger, to be able to stay away from her but you know it is impossible. Because you are an addict and you will indulge for as long as she will let you.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff

[romanoffswands]

BLACK TEE

SUMMARY — natasha spends all morning looking for her favorite black t-shirt that you stole weeks ago

You had no idea what had sent your girlfriend into such a frenzy, but walking into her apartment alarmed you that something was up. The ruckus only got louder and louder the farther you stepped into the home, until you found your girlfriend sprawled out on her bedroom floor with clothes surrounding her. Her eye was still bruised over from the last mission she was called away on, and her side was still bruised up from the assault of the weapons backfiring. Nonetheless, she looked perfect.

“Everything okay down there?” You asked, watching as Natasha rolled over onto her stomach and once again began pulling random shirts out from beneath her bed. The red scratch marks littering her back were all from you, and a blush spread over your cheeks as you took in her bare appearance. You could do as much damage as a battlefield.

“I’m trying—” She huffed, pulling out yet another black t-shirt that had been crumpled into a ball, probably having never been worn because of the messy state of not only Natasha’s room, but her life at the moment. “I’m trying to find my one black t-shirt. Not the ribbed one.”

You raised your eyebrows, looking down at the shirt clinging to your own torso. Natasha had too many black t-shirts, you’ve told her a million and three times, but she always shushed you with the justification that she could identify each one by a single trait she didn’t like, and it almost never failed her. The specific t-shirt she’s looking for is your favorite, and you’ve been playing a long pawn to finally steal it. It was big on you, and it was soft, and it smelled like the perfect mix of your girlfriend's favorite things; the salt of the ocean, her perfume, the fabric softener you used when you did her laundry after a battle, and your perfume from the beginning of the day. If she had looked up at you when you entered, she would have realized it was hers immediately due to the oversized fitting, but she was too much in a trance to even pay you any attention.

“The one Maria got you for christmas?” You played into her antics, getting down on your knees beside her head so you could scour through her dresser. You felt her hair move against your thigh in confirmation, and you laughed softly. “Why do you want that specific one? You just pulled out an identical one.”

“The one I’m looking for is softer.” She mused, “You washed it with the fabric softener last time you were here. After Clint almost got blown to bits..” Your heart swelled knowing that she paid enough attention to what you did for her to know you spent hours washing her clothes after she went to bed because you couldn’t sleep, still on edge about how you could’ve lost her this time. She had come to find you just after one, but you had already folded her clothes and put them away before she corralled you back to bed sleepily herself.

You squealed when suddenly your body was tackled to the floor, pinned beneath Natasha’s body and her smiling face was above yours. You giggled as her fingers moved against your hips, digging into the shallow dips of your hips, knowing that was where you were the most ticklish. “You have it on!” She taunted, “We were looking for a shirt you have on! When did you take it?”

“When I washed it. It’s my favorite.” You added nonchalantly, nuzzling your nose up into the collar of the shirt and smiling at Natasha, even though he couldn’t see your mouth beneath the soft black cotton. “Smells like you.”

Natasha lowered her nose to yours, pulling the shirt away from your mouth and putting her lips on yours. The two of you fit together perfectly, and even though Natasha spent hours looking for that soft black shirt, she didn’t have the mind to strip it from your possession.

“Looks better on you anyways, baby.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff

[romanoffswands]

Grief

It's in the quiet, when you're alone and nobody can hear you or see you. That is when it hits the hardest. It washes over you and throws you head first into a pit of despair and longing. Wishing you had one last chance to talk to them, say I love you and hold on. I miss you and nothing will ever alleviate this feeling.

[romanoffswands]

Tiny Shrimp, Giant Heart

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: If the title isn't obvious enough, I am in the throes of writer's block. @ageofevermore see if you can get the subtle references.

You were stumbling through life. Noone needed to tell you. They only had to talk about their ‘career choices’ and their ‘investments’. You picked up the context clues. 

It didn’t matter that you were directionless rather than clueless, the results were the same. You’d been working in the same clothes store for longer than you wanted to remember. You didn’t like your boss. Your favourite coworkers had already quit. Your whole life felt like it was stalling. 

Sometimes, you woke up in the mornings with a disconcerting sense of dread.

You didn’t know how your story was meant to go and you certainly didn’t know how to write it yourself. Days, weeks and months felt like someone else’s arbitrary system.

She walked in on May 3rd. It was a Wednesday.

She browsed the aisles, with the usual methodical practice of a seasoned shopper. 

The store was empty and you kept an obligatory eye on your only customer. Just as you were sneaking a glance at your phone below the cashier counter, the woman cleared her throat. 

You looked up and startled at her sudden proximity. The woman was standing on the other side of the counter. 

She was wearing a maroon hoodie, unzipped. Her red hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. Her look was expectant. She was holding a blue dress in the air.

‘What do you think?’ She asked.

You gaped for a second before stumbling towards an answer. ‘I like it.’

The woman nodded, lifting the dress again to inspect it better.

‘It’s for my sons’ graduation.’ She told you seriously. 

‘Congratulations.’ You said politely. 

The woman rolled her eyes but a smile crept onto her face. 

‘They’re ten, they’re graduating elementary school.’ She confided. 

Her proud smile was contagious, you found yourself grinning back.

‘Can I try it on?’ The woman asked after another moment of deliberation. 

‘Of course.’ You hurried around the counter, ready to open the small changing room at the back of the store. 

You waited outside the curtained cubicle. The woman kept talking to you as she changed.

‘My name’s Wanda.’ She told you.

‘Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N’ You replied politely.

The curtain drew back and Wanda stood a little awkwardly, the blue dress hugging her figure. You realized with abrupt clarity that she was beautiful.

‘You look incredible.’ You told her hoarsely, watching as the sequined fabric glimmered like a mirrorball.

Wanda relaxed into the dress.

‘I think I’ll buy it.’ She decided.

You sold it to her a few minutes later. When she left the store, Wanda turned back. She found you through the glass window and gave you another smile. 

….

The next day was May the 4th. It was a Thursday and you’d made two bad Star Wars jokes before noon.

Wanda came back to the store.

It was busier today but you noticed her immediately. Her hair was down today, it was longer than you expected. You watched her scan the sea of strangers until she saw you. Her face brightened when she did. 

She walked over to you and your heart fluttered with anticipation.

‘I forgot to buy shoes.’ Wanda told you simply.

‘Let’s find you some shoes.’ You answered. 

It was not a big store. Wanda browsed for over an hour. You stood obediently beside her, enthralled with her steady conversation. She held a tote bag loosely over one shoulder. You felt yourself memorizing her features, preparing for the moment she left the store.

She looked a little tired. Her eyes rolled often when she talked about her sons but you could see the affection behind it. Her laugh was loud, interrupting the conversations of nearby customers.

You watched as Wanda tried on the highest heels in the store. 

‘I’m on my tallest tip-toes.’ She laughed, before deciding they were perfect.

After you’d made the sale, you handed the shoes across the counter with a settled feeling of loss. The bar had been low, but this was easily the best shift of your life. You already sensed the returned monotony of the next one.

After she’d tucked the new pair of heels into her tote bag, Wanda hesitated.

‘What are you doing after your shift?’ She asked.

‘No plans.’  You didn't dare to hope.

Wanda seemed to be weighing something up in her mind.

‘Do you want to grab a coffee?’

‘Yes.’ You fought to keep your smile small.

Before she’d walked out of sight, Wanda turned back to you again. Her own smile was wide.

You found yourself humming for the rest of your shift. You kept checking the new number in your phone, hardly daring to believe it. 

At 7pm, as you finally left the store, your phone rang.

Wanda was on the other end, sounding harried. 

‘The babysitter fell through.’ She explained. ‘I have to stay here.’

Your heart sank. ‘That’s okay, I understand.’

You heard Wanda hesitate.

‘You know, I can make a good cup of coffee too.’

A half hour later, you were standing at her door. She looked the same as she had earlier, except her long hair was mussed. It looked as if she’d run her hands through it one too many times.

‘The boys are playing video games.’ She told you in greeting. ‘Do you want to sit in the kitchen?’

‘Okay.’ 

You sipped your coffee and found your conversation with Wanda picking up where it had left off in the store. She seemed quieter, more subdued as if a long day had caught up to her. Her smile seemed softer. 

She disappeared periodically to check on her sons, eventually sending them off to bed. 

It was around then that you checked the time. You blurted out an apology for staying so long.

Wanda touched your arm gently. 

‘Thanks for staying so long.’ She countered quietly. ‘It gets lonely sometimes.’

For the first time, you saw the sadness in her eyes. It was small, but you could tell that it was endless.

She hugged you before you left. There was something reassuring about her touch. 

You felt dazed as you headed home.

—-

You spent more time with Wanda after that. You met her sons briefly during another impromptu visit to her house.

They were both sweet and very polite, seeming surprised by their mother introducing an unexpected new friend. 

Wanda didn’t ever mention other friends. Only the other parents that she often struggled to fit in with. The more you knew her, the more her loneliness was evident. 

Her past and her family were both sore spots. When you’d asked tentatively, Wanda had choked out a short explanation of her husband’s death and you’d felt evil for bringing it up. In apology, you’d hugged her with the newfound ease that you’d developed. 

Wanda held you a little tighter. You liked it. 

—--

You told your other friends about her. They seemed surprised as you started bringing your own stories to the conversations. They started asking questions about Wanda, raising eyebrows at your explanation of “just a friend”.

They'd guessed correctly. You knew you wanted more. Wanda occupied your thoughts continuously. You talked to her constantly and still you wished for more time together. 

It was harder to guess what Wanda wanted. You could tell she liked spending time with you, but it still felt fragile in a way you didn't understand. You were scared to break a good thing. 

Once upon a time you’d felt directionless. Now, you knew exactly what you wanted. Still, the future seemed impossibly out of reach.

----

One morning, Wanda called you unexpectedly as you were heading to work. Before she'd even spoken, you could tell that she was stressed. 

You cut in before she could. 

‘How can I help?’ You asked simply. 

Wanda gave a choked laugh of relief. 

‘There’s this raffle night to raise money for the school.’ She told you hurriedly. ‘It’s tonight and I completely forgot. The PTA hate me already and I promised to bring a plus one to help with the fundraising.’

‘I can’t wait.’ You promised, already smiling at the prospect of an evening with her.

You met Wanda at the school steps. She was waiting by her car. Her blue dress was familiar. A red shawl covered the crooks of her arms. She brightened when she saw you. 

Wanda leaned against you as you walked in together. Your heart obediently skipped a beat. Her hand slipped naturally into yours as she led you through the school hallways to the auditorium. Your throat went dry and you tried to swallow it away. 

It was early but you were still surprised by how empty the auditorium was. Or, you were surprised until a sharp looking woman with a clipboard came up and reminded Wanda that she’d promised to volunteer. She guided you both to an unmanned food stall stacked with tin foil trays labeled ‘Party Shrimp.’.

Wanda gave you a guilty look. You snorted, realizing that you’d been roped into a catering gig. 

‘You’ll need to make it more presentable.’ The woman sniffed one last time before leaving. 

Wanda’s eyes were full of apology. 

Her embarrassed expression made you laugh. You realized that there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

You told her so as you dragged over two folding chairs and some large plastic platters. Wanda gave you a shy smile.

You each worked on separate platters, arranging the shrimp as appetizingly as possible. After 40 minutes, the sight of shrimp was starting to become repulsive but you soldiered on.

You kept up a steady stream of conversation with Wanda, easy jokes flowing back and forth.

You watched Wanda relax as she began to believe that she hadn’t completely ruined your night. Her laughs grew louder, she rolled her eyes with familiar affection.

As the auditorium opened officially to the non-volunteering parents, Wanda laid her shrimp platters out next to yours.

She stopped short when she saw yours.

You’d arranged an intricate design of tiny shrimps, to form a giant heart on each platter.

Wanda stared down at the platter in silence. Her silence unnerved you, her expression suddenly unreadable. You started to feel self conscious, awkwardly aware of the effort you’d put into the task. You wanted to give some kind of explanation.

‘You really care.’ Wanda interrupted your thoughts, voice quiet.

‘I do.’ You agreed, realizing that was the only true explanation.

Wanda looked up at you. Her face was illuminated with something new. You could see the want in her eyes.

For the first time, you knew she felt the same as you. Sparks flew in your veins.

She took a step forward and leaned in.

She kissed you. Your eyes closed and warmth spread across your chest.

For the first time, you knew how your story was meant to go. 

---

In the background, you heard the faint echo of a TV audience applauding. You smiled into the kiss. Wanda smiled back. 

---

That night, Westview Middle School was full of magic.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff

[romanoffswands]

The Hope Of It All

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none?

A/N: So...ehh surprise? I don't really know what this is but my dear friend @cuinaminute229 wanted me to write a fluffy lil "drabble" for Wanda because I had some wine on this fine Easter day. She gave me the prompt "you give the best hugs" and my brain came up with...whatever this is. It's not my most creative or original work but for a fun lil "drabble" I like it. I say "drabble" because I feel like it exceeds drabble length but anyways. I hope you enjoy and maybe hopefully I'll see you all soon!

| MASTERLIST | DISCORD | GET NOTIFIED OF MY STORIES |

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

When it came to you and Wanda the Avengers considered you both very close…. though to you, you were quite satisfied on the sidelines cheering and supporting your best friend happily as she ventured into her new relationship with Vision. All had been going well between the two of them and you. You had heard stories before about how people usually end up losing long-term friends once they get into relationships, luckily that didn’t apply to you or Wanda and when it came to Vision the two of you weirdly enough got along well much to Wanda’s liking also. 

Wanda and Vision tried to keep the tensions and cracks of their relationship out of the public eye within the Avengers tower, though it seemed to get increasingly difficult for Wanda when it seemed like Vision wasn’t fully taking in or listening to what she was actually saying. You knew Wanda wasn’t particularly fond of physical touch from people unless it was from someone she was in a relationship with, so as much as you would’ve liked to comfort her in the way you prefer you couldn’t. The most you could do was sit in the same room as her after a tense fight watching her sitcoms with her and just enjoying the meaningless conversations, comments and laughs due to the sitcom. Knowing the other Avengers hours earlier had heard the slamming of doors and muffled yells.

It all seemed to come to fruition once the Sokovia Accords were brought up and discussed. Of course, there was a spilt and divide throughout the whole team….that also included a divide between one of the only….if not the only couple within the Avengers compound….the compound’s dear Wanda and Vision. Quickly after that due to you siding with Captain America which in turn included Wanda, you tried your best within that short amount of time to support her and help her through this tumultuous time where her and Vision’s relationship was basically undefined were they both still together, were they not no-one knew. 

As much as Wanda kept up her strong facade throughout all the uncertainty of her relationship and the betrayal she felt from Vision for siding with Iron Man. Whilst you knew the current plan for Wanda was that she was going to Scotland specifically Edinburgh to hide out for a little while after the mess of accords. You knew the initial plan was for her and Vision to go, however, you knew that you couldn’t leave Wanda go alone in her rather fragile state even if she claimed repeatedly that she was fine and wouldn’t need anyone.

So you knew you had to go about this wisely. 

You aided Wanda with the last few things she needed to be packed, whilst she got ready everything she needed in the bathroom to start the process of dying her hair, to fully embrace going incognito and into hiding in a sense. Wanda felt much more comfortable with you aiding her in that process as well as it was known throughout the compound you had a history of dying your own hair or helping others dye theirs. As you sat Wanda down and started to apply the bleach, you took a deep breath and looked at her through the mirror softly muttering to her “Wands I’m coming with you, as much as you tell the others you’ll be fine on your own as your best friend I can’t allow that. I know you need someone with you in this weird changing time of going from being in a relationship to being single and especially going to live or at least spend some time in a new country with no one you know.”

You pause briefly and take a deep breath before you say the next part “And I- I don’t want you going through that by yourself….alone all over again. I already have the majority of my things packed, I just need to add the small little things.” 

As you finally got the courage to look at her in the mirror again you smirked as you saw her typical big grin with teary eyes. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to come with me Y/N/N.” You reciprocated a quick smile and patted her shoulder, keeping in mind her dislike for physical affection outside of relationships, not taking notice of how she relaxed ever so slightly under your touch. 

Finally, once you both were settled where you both were living in Edinburgh Wanda was adamant on you both taking a small walk around the area just to get accustomed to where you now would be living….for who knows how long. Once you both walked into your home that night and relaxed fully into the new living space, as time went on you could slowly see the facade Wanda had up slowly crack and disappear, seemingly all the events and changes now in her life had finally caught up to her, both knowing she wouldn’t be able to hide her true feelings and emotions from you. 

Deciding to give Wanda a lil bit of space you walked into the kitchen area deciding to make teas for the both of you before trying to get Wanda to discuss and talk this out with you. As you were entering back into the room again holding the two mugs of tea, the sound of soft sniffling could be heard coming from Wanda as she sat on the sofa with the soft crackles of the fire beside her after being lit with the soft murmurs of music playing in the background. 

Exhaling as you sit down beside Wanda hearing her desperately trying to hide her sniffles and tears. You sigh as you lean forward placing the mugs on the coffee table, turning your head ever so slightly to look at the side of Wanda’s face. The outline of her face is highlighted perfectly by the light coming from the fire. Going against what you know and Wanda’s dislike you open up your arms in a silent invitation for Wanda to reciprocate and quite clearly get the affection she needs right now. Wanda’s eyes glance at you from the corner of her eyes and move briskly around the room before she finally decides to lean into your hug and wrap her arms around you. Both inhaling deeply and taking in the comfort in the affection you both unknowingly desperately needed from your best friend. Basking in the scent of the other not knowing it would end up becoming more and more of a regular occurrence. 

After a few moments of none of the two of you saying anything you hear a slight murmur come from Wanda “Y/N/N you give the best hugs.” 

Neither of you realising that exact moment was the thing which was going to change the relationship between the two of you forever. Nothing was ever going to be the same again….yet everything was going to be exactly the same. 

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff

[romanoffswands]

Lemonade and sweet tea

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

warnings: fluff, mostly smut, 18+ only

a/n: this was originally only fluff, no idea what happened but now it's fluff with ✨spice✨ also @family-house-of-m cause you asked so nicely enjoy some spicy fluff that probably sucks lol

....

The smell of grilled cheese and hotdogs fills the kitchen. It’s the weekend, a mid-afternoon that warms the grass and concrete sidewalks along the road.

The windows and the backdoor are open to let the breeze run through the house, a few glasses of lemonade and sweet tea sit atop the table with pink straws and polka dots painted plastic cups.

You glance up from where you lean against the counter, a knife in one hand and half of a sandwich in the other, a smile lifts your lips when you catch sight of her in the doorway.

“Did you lose a bet?” You tease her softly as you place the food and utensil down before walking over to her. Her glare is playful as she watches your every movement, hands on her hips as you step up right in front of her. She's dripping wet, droplets of water still clinging to her skin along with the smell of chlorine from the pool.

“I did not lose a bet, I was pushed.” She explains and you bite your cheek to suppress a grin.

“The great Natasha Romanoff let her guard down enough to be pushed into the pool? By a child no less."

Natasha narrows her eyes at you and you realize it's too late to step back because her eyes are bright and gleaming as she pushes forward and wraps her arms around your waist, trapping you in her grip with a low chuckle as you yelp and try to push her away. “Nat, no!”

She’s fast and smooth with her motions as her hands sneak under your shirt as she pulls you even closer, a smug expression on her face as she places a kiss on your cheek.

“Guess who’s soaked now?” Her whisper is low and suggestive and her fingers flex against the muscles of your back when you shiver at her tone.

“You are evil.” You tell her, voice concrete in your conclusion. She smirks as you give in and returns her embrace. Dancing your fingers up the length of her back, finding purchase at the black tied strings of her bikini top.

She raises an eyebrow at you and pushes you back with slow calculated steps until you meet the edge of the counter.

“Clint and his kids are here Nat.” You remind her as her hands wander, nails scratching lightly as she gives you a smirk.

“We'll be quick babygirl.” Her voice is a seductive purr, a dark gleam in her eyes before she captures your lips in a deep kiss.

A hum leaves you as she maneuvers her grip so she can lift you to sit on the only free space on the counter, her teeth nipping at your bottom lip as your breath hitches. Her hands slide over your thighs, pushing the fabric of your skirt up to reveal more smooth skin, urging your legs apart so she can step into the available space.

She pulls back to kiss the soft slope of your throat, nibbling a spot that she knows will make your knees weak. Her hands once again travel under your tank top to dance along the curve of your waist and stomach. You bite your lip as your gaze trails over her shoulder to eye the open door. The warm air brushing through the kitchen in a gentle breeze, a reminder of the heat of summer and sun.

“We can’t,” You try to push her away, hands on her shoulders as the chance that you could be caught creeps into your mind. “Nat.”

She bites the slope of your neck making you shiver. Her tongue soothes the mark she's left, breath hot and heavy as she trails kisses to your shoulder, teasing the edge of your collarbones. “Relax, we can. The kids are having a water balloon fight. We’re fine.”

She pushes the damp fabric of your shirt up with a deadly smirk and you let her toss the shirt away.

“You are evil.” You remind her, voice not as sarcastic as you want, sounding too breathless. You run your hands up her arms to loop them around her shoulders, fingers tangling in her auburn hair. Strands sticking to her jaw and neck as you brush her hair from her face.

“And yet you love me.” Her expression is smug, eyes bright as she keeps eye contact, letting her hands roam, touch soft and teasing.

You hook your legs around her waist, the denim shorts she’s wearing damp and rough against your thighs. “I do love you, always. I married you after all.”

She kisses you again, slow and savoring like she’s planning on taking her time, drawing it out until you can’t even think past the brush of her fingers and lips. Her hands grip your hips, a touch possessive as she pulls you impossibly closer, you groan at the motion and you feel her smile against your lips.

Natasha ducks her head and presses an open-mouthed kiss against the bruise she's left to admire, smirking as your fingers dig into the muscles of her shoulders, nails dragging softly. As her hands trail up the soft skin of your stomach, your fingers tug at the tied knot of her top.

“You have to be quiet.” She reminds you with an impossibly gentle kiss, and you swear she's teasing you on purpose.

"I'm always quiet." You tell her, your stare is intense as you slowly undo the strings, the tiniest smirk on your face when you see her swallow as her top comes loose. You spread your fingers over her newly exposed chest, an innocent smile on your face.

"That," She smirks as she leans forward. You scrape your nails along the muscles of her abdomen as she pushes her chest against your own, drawing a sigh from your throat. "Is a lie."

The contact is dizzying, the heat of her skin, the way she breathes heavily against your lips. You roll your hips for more contact, shameless in your need.

You kiss her like you're starving, like you will never get enough. You kiss her as a moan crawls up your throat, and you can only concentrate on all the places she's touching you.

You ache for her in every single way possible.

The graze of her nipples and the exploration of her hands, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ribcage. The rough fabric of her shorts when she grinds her hips into you.

The heat of her is intoxicating, the gentleness, everything.

"You are," your breath hitches when she drags a nail over the curve of your breast. "such a tease. And a liar."

Natasha pulls back just slightly, nipping your bottom lip as her hands find purchase on your thighs. "Whatever do you mean?" She mumbles with a smirk.

"I thought we were going to be quick?" You raise an eyebrow as her, one hand tangling in her hair as she holds your gaze, eyes burning with a hunger that ignites you.

She leans forward and kisses your lips before she ducks her head and nips at the swell of your breast. Your fingers tighten in her hair as a shiver runs up your spine and she hums against you.

Natasha slides her hands underneath the bunched up fabric of your skirt, nails scratching lightly as her fingers slide up the expansion of your inner thighs.

She is so close to exactly where you need her most and yet she pauses and pulls back to look at you. Her expression is horribly smug when a whine escapes you. "What if I want to take my time? What if I want to devour you?" Natasha's voice is a purr, deep and promising.

“Fuck,” The word is a whimper, breathless even and you would swear your blood is on fire with how she's looking at you.

Natasha hums in agreement. One hand slips around your waist while the other grips your thigh like she never wants to let go.

When she brushes forward, nose bumping against yours, she smiles. Mumbles your name before capturing your lips in a desperate kiss that steals the ability to breathe.

You cup her face in your hands as you give in. A needy whine escapes when she teases you, fingers grazing over blazing heat.

As she pushes forward, her other hand brushes your hair out of your face, and she growls into the kiss. "I can feel how much you want me,"

Your breathing is ragged and a gasp escapes when she enters you with two fingers.

Natasha teases the twitching muscles of your back, tracing the length of your spine. Her touch is light enough to tickle if you weren't concentrating on the fact she's yet to move her finger.

You tighten your legs around her, try to pull her even closer than she already is so you can chase what's just out of reach but she doesn't budge, only smirks at your impatience.

A frustrated huff leaves you as you pull her into another kiss. You whimper when she pulls back enough to exhale against your lips.

"Someone's impatient." She teases you, fingers curling just to see your response. A curse rushes out of your mouth and your thighs twitch.

"Having fun aren't you?" You raise an eyebrow and force a sigh, trying to steady your breathing so she doesn't know exactly how much she's affecting you. It doesn't work.

"Drawing it out makes it so much more," she kissed you again, "enjoyable." The word is a satisfied purr and your knees tremble.

She moves her thumb to press exactly where you ache for her, adding just enough pressure for you to grind against her hand. A curse dies on your tongue with a strangled moan.

Your nails dig into her shoulders as she moves to kiss the spot behind your ear. Natasha chuckles quietly into the sensitive skin, causing you to tremble in her hold.

As soon as she starts to move, as soon as she starts to fuck you in earnest, curling her fingers and whispering praises against your neck, you swear you're going to pass out.

You lean forward and brush your nose against Nat's shoulder, breath hitching when her fingers find a sensitive spot.

As you dig your teeth into her shoulder, the smooth skin muffles your whine as she rolls her hips forward.

You swear your entire body trembles.

"What the hell is taking so - OH MY GOD."

You press your face into Natasha's neck with a groan, embarrassment rising goosebumps on your shoulders as you hug her against you.

A door slams shut and you feel her chuckle at being caught and she bites at your earlobe.

“Focus on me, just me," Natasha murmurs. She brushes her nose against yours as she changes the angle of her hand, adding another finger when you roll your hips and beg for more.

“Please, please, please Nat.” You whimper and you swear you can hear her smirk.

Natasha dips her head to press a kiss to your neck, teeth scraping gently at the bruise she's so proud of. "Are you going to come for me, sweetheart? Come on, I've got you." She coaxes softly.

Natasha tightens her arm around your waist and pulls you into a kiss that makes your head spin and your breath hitch as she brings you over the edge.

The orgasm slams into you hard enough that you see stars. Your choked cry becomes a whimper when she doesn't slow her pace, drawing it out until you can't breathe anymore.

Natasha hums, and kisses your jaw as you bow your head, breathing heavily.

You whine, exhaling softly and you have to actually think as you ease your grip on her waist so Natasha can step back. “Fuck.”

Her fingers glisten in the afternoon light and your lungs refuse to work as she sucks a finger into her mouth. You whimper as you watch her, eyes fixated on her lips.

She smirks when she releases her finger with a pop. Hold your gaze as she continues with her other fingers.

“You’re going to kill me.” You whisper, and a shiver dances along your skin.

She looks impossibly smug.

Your fingers grasp her hip as you watch helplessly.

“Don’t forget to breathe baby,” Natasha reminds you softly.

You suck in a breath as she leans forward, a soft smile on her face and she cups your face, pulling you into a kiss. You moan when you taste yourself on her tongue.

“You… you need to,” You sigh against her lips. “Apologies to Clint.”

“It’s his fault.” She murmurs before kissing you again.

“It’s your fault.” You correct her, looping your arms around her neck to keep her close.

“Cause I’m evil?” She asks with a small smile and you hum in agreement.

"Obviously."

....

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut

[romanoffswands]

Another Of His Kind

Summary: Jeff is just visiting his aunt, but who is this in the living room?

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (background) Word Count: 1114 Warnings: Jeff's backstory is hinted at. A/N: I finished this last night and considered writing an April Fools day fic as well, but then decided Jeff is a fool enough here for this to count. Thank you to @mirrorballwn for the idea!

Part of The Jeff Fictional Universe (you don’t need to read the others to understand)

—————————————————

Jeff was unique; he’d never met another of his kind, and even among four-legged creatures he thought himself incomparable. Admittedly, even his experience of them was limited to a few bears he’d met in the woods, and Fanny, but with that breadth of knowledge, Jeff assumed he must be smarter than the average mammal. 

The fact that he even knew what a mammal was, being evidence enough. But to add further, he knew that Fanny could understand only a few words taught to her by her owner, whereas Jeff understood every word of Russian and English that his parents had spewed.

Shortly put, Jeff was confident in his knowledge. And he carried that intellectual superiority around with him at all times, which was the reason he now questioned the sight before him. You see, Jeff was aware of mirrors – unlike his furry cousin – and knew the land shark he saw in them was just a reflection of himself, but what he saw today, in his aunt’s living room, was a land shark who did not look like him.

Jeff took a step forward, while the other land shark simply stood. That settled it for Jeff, who could only come to one conclusion: another land shark stood before him! Even if his parents called him ‘one of a kind’, there was no other solution to be found; this one had a rough, black nose, and a comparatively small mouth for a land shark. As Jeff approached, it wagged its tail and lolled its tongue out of its mouth, grinning widely and exposing its short, blunt teeth.

Jeff squinted and circled the creature; it had a split tail just like his, and a fin atop its back, plus four stout legs…so perhaps it could be? Jeff grinned. He had finally found another of his kind! In his aunt Yelena’s house no less! He wondered if she had brought it in – his parents did say she was skilled at finding rare things afterall – he would be sure to thank her later, and ask where she had found it. 

“Mrrrr?” Jeff tested. He asked the newcomer about others of the kind, whether they were related, and if he had more family out there, somewhere. 

“Oh, the land shark has found his surprise,” Yelena’s voice cut in before any response was given. It startled Jeff out of his inspection, but he didn’t mind, instead bounding over to the Widow with the other land shark close on his heels. “She is a good land shark, yes?” Yelena asked, and received profuse nods and thanks from Jeff. Simultaneously, the other land shark jumped up at the assassin, standing on her hind legs and pawing for attention. While Yelena indulged her with head scratches, Jeff sat patiently on the floor, quietly purring at his fellow land shark in order to teach her manners.

“Good shark, Jeff,” Yelena praised. She pulled a pack of gummy sharks out of one of her many pockets and tossed a few of them in his direction. Jeff leapt and caught them all, swallowing them whole before he sat back down in the hopes of receiving more. By the time he was back on the ground, Yelena had switched the gummy sharks for a much blander looking bone-shaped treat and was coaxing his land shark friend to sit, which she eventually did in return for the treat.

—————————————————

Eventually, you and Natasha found your way into the room, eyes widening at the two land sharks chasing each other around the room. Yelena sat in the middle, watching them with a smile on her face.

Jeff skidded to a halt as soon as he noticed your intrusion, talking in quick ‘mrrr’s at you to explain the situation. 

Yelena also had a go at explaining, cutting in. “They were having a good time together. Jeff likes the costume!”

If it was possible, your eyes widened even further as they flit between your fiancee’s sister and your land shark, the misunderstanding becoming clear. Jeff had also heard the word, ‘costume’, and slowly turned to eye his new found friend. “Yelena, Nat…I think we need to speak outside,” was all you said before grabbing both women by the arm and pulling them along behind you.

“He likes his surprise, makes up for the eating shark thing now, yes?” Yelena asked the second the door shut.

“Yelena, you made up for that ages ago.”

“Nat’s right. But the issue is that he… technically hasn’t worked out his surprise.”

“What do you mean? He and Fanny are playing right now, you can see!” All three of you turned to face the glass wall, seeing the two creatures tussling without a care on the other side.”

“He…thinks she’s an actual land shark.”

“My costume is too good, I knew it.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, then cut her sister off, “Fanny’s face is still visible?”

“Jeff doesn’t-”

“He just hasn’t worked it out yet!” You were forced to interject before the younger widow could make some snarky comment. The two sisters could switch between friends and foe in the blink of an eye, but right now your priority was Jeff. When their attention was back on you, you continued, “he got concerned when Yelena mentioned it was a costume, and he was so thankful that she found another of his kind that I didn’t have the heart to tell him.”

“You haven’t had the heart to tell him what happened to the real ‘others of his kind’ either,” Yelena muttered, holding her hands up in compliance when Natasha’s scolding glare turned on her.

“He’s not ready for that-”

“He’ll find out someday, there’s plenty of articles for him to read.”

“Jeff can’t read.”

“We’ve tried teaching him,” you added to Natasha’s comment, shrugging at Yelena’s dumbfounded expression.

“I could-”

“-We’re off-topic” you interrupted again, “who is going to tell Jeff that his new friend is just your dog wearing a fancy costume?”

“Yelena? If you wanna preach about being candid with Jeff, maybe you want to do the honours?”

“Just after I got Jeff’s trust back? There is no way! It is not my fault that the costume is too convincing!”

“It’s not-”

“I don’t know if we can do it.” The sisters followed your gaze into the house, watching a scene of innocence. Fanny lay curled on the sofa, with Jeff snuggled even tighter next to her, both parties clearly exhausted from the morning’s enthusiasm. 

“We can’t tell him, but he’ll work it out eventually. And when he does, we’ll have to tell him where he came from, what happened to his real family, and deal with the consequences then.”

“Let him have this for now.”

—————————————————

Jeff Taglist: @unexpected-character​ @wolferine

Thank you for reading!! comments and reblogs are always appreciated :))

#natasha romanoff x reader

[romanoffswands]

The Silent Treatment

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: It's a surprise

Warnings: A bit suggestive

Word count: 1429

Summary: You give Wanda the silent treatment after she betrays you

T/N: Detka = baby Malysh = baby (Thanks to @veronika-y for the list I always refer to 🖤)

A/N: I wanted to write something, so @cuinaminute229 gave me the prompt - "You can't break up with me. We're married." @mirrorballwn was there too and asked for Professor Wanda although I don't think this is what she had in mind lol

I hope you like this. Let me know what you think! 🙂

You hear the front door unlock from where you are, already in bed reading a book.

After college today Wanda went out for a meal with the other members from the faculty. You were glad she was out longer than usual not wanting to see her today.

'Sweet and innocent Professor Maximoff' is how she is known, if only her colleagues and students knew what she was really like. Maybe she wouldn't be such a favorite anymore.

You knew though. You saw past the pretty smile and soft voice. You knew what kind of person lay beneath. No one knows of her back stabbing ways.

A faint, 'honey, I'm home!' makes its way to your ears but you make no effort in responding. After what she has done, how can she believe everything is okay?

While she approaches you can hear her talk about her day. Stupid questions from students. Having to deal with Stark's bad jokes during dinner. Wanting to get home to see you because she hasn't all day.

The words of an evil person.

Last night, you were pretty sure you made it clear you were unhappy. She betrayed you and now she is acting like nothing happened.

You remain silent. You have nothing more to say after the events from the previous night.

Making her way around the bedroom she gets ready for bed, still droning on about the events that took place today.

She turns in your direction, seeing you busy with your book she walks over, planting a soft kiss on your head before making her way to the bathroom, "You're quiet today, detka."

'Detka.' How dare she. Despicable. It makes you sick to your stomach.

Even more so because you don't know how long it's been since you've turned a page of your book. The thoughts in your mind prevent you from concentrating on anything else, only Wanda's actions.

Wanda returns, placing her rings she had forgotten to take off, in front of the vanity mirror as she finishes her spiel of the day. When you don't look up to her once again with your usual smile she begins to worry because you haven't said a word to her since she has arrived home.

"Malysh..." She begins, "what's going on?"

Oh, so now she cares? You finally turn to Wanda with a hard look that takes her back slightly.

"I told you, we're broken up," you say monotonously, then turn your attention back to your book to continue 'reading'.

Wanda furrows her eyebrows, wondering what it was she could have done to make you act so cold towards her. Then it dawns on her.

Rolling her eyes, smiling to herself Wanda finishes rubbing in her moisturiser. Slowly, she makes her way over to you, climbing onto your lap, pulling the book out of your hands at the same time. You look the opposite way, annoyed, as she places it on the side table.

"Y/n-"

"Don't." You say, resolutely.

"This is still about last night? I said I was sorry," Wanda coos, trying to make eye contact but not forcing you to look her way.

"It was unforgivable, Wanda," you say and return to silence, crossing your arms.

Wanda lets out a sigh and instead of using words she scoots closer to you. Her attempt to kiss your cheek is intercepted by your hand.

"Baby," she whines, extending the word, "it's not that big of a deal."

You turn to Wanda with an incredulous look, "Not making someone pay rent is a clear rule violation!" You exasperate, "Everyone else made their partners pay, why did Nat get away with not making Maria pay? And then you took her side! It was the highest form of betrayal in my eyes."

She tries not to smile but it's so hard with how seriously you have been taking this.

"Stickler Steve was the only one on my side last night, so he's the only friend I have left as far as I'm concerned, and…" you make a fake look as if you are remembering something, "oh yeah, we're broken up."

Wanda doesn't bother hiding her smile now, the weekly game night with your friends always ends with a new story, this time it is centred around your competitiveness. "Well that's too bad. You can't break up with me, we're married," Wanda scoffs.

"So you do remember you're married to me and not Nat and Maria. As my wife, you are supposed to take my side, it's I'm the contract," you make up. "I can't believe Tony took their side too," you finish with a scowl.

"Baby, I said I was sorry." When Wanda sees you are not making any attempt to say anything else, she realises she will have to take it up a notch. "Let me make it up to you," she says quickly before kissing you before you can even think. The taste of toothpaste and Wanda's lingering perfume overtakes your senses. She presses harder into you, taking your breath away.

You pull your head back, hands on Wanda's shoulders to keep her away, "N- No. Y- You're not allowed to kiss me," you stutter, clearly affected.

"No?" she questions playfully in a low voice, moving forward against your hands. When her lips press against yours again you 'attempt' to push against her shoulders again but quickly crumble and get lost in the kiss.

As it progresses you roll over moving your kisses to her neck, a hand rising under her shirt making her moan. Wanda smiles when she sees where this is going, there is no way you are going to stop now.

Your will is only so strong when it comes to Wanda.

…

Your eyes are closed as Wanda lays on top of you, legs tangled together in the bed sheets. She threads her fingers through your hair, her warm body pressed against yours not helping you wanting to stay 'angry' at her.

"I'm still mad at you, you know," you sigh, inwardly cursing yourself because you wanted your words to come out more seriously than they do.

Wanda hovers over you, moving her legs to either side of your waist, a position that is also not helping you school your features to be mad at her. You can feel the aftermath of your activities between her legs, her heat radiating on your stomach.

She gets you to look her straight in the eye by squashing your cheeks together and pulling you to look in her direction. "Y/n. I'm sorry," she says seriously, holding heavy eye contact, trying to stop a smirk from appearing on her face.

Cupping your cheeks with both hands after you look away dramatically, Wanda starts to place quick kisses all over your face saying "I'm sorry" after each one.

You let out an airy laugh, "okay! Okay. I accept your apology."

Wanda smiles and pecks your lips. As you continue to speak she rests her weight fully on you leaning her chin against her hands now resting on your chest, "This doesn't mean I forgive you! You have to prove yourself on the next game night," you pout, running your fingers through her hair forcing her eyes to close.

Wanda hums, a cheeky smirk overtaking her face, "Do you still want to break up with me?" She asks, opening her eyes while biting her bottom lip, raising an eyebrow waiting for your response.

You pretend to think of your reply, "For now? No."

"For now, huh?" She says, placing her hands either side of your head hovering over you, "I guess I should make the most of you while I have you," she says huskily as she rolls her hips against you as she moves in to kiss you.

Once again she takes your breath away and you have no choice but to oblige, placing your hands on her hips.

When you pull away, Wanda rests her head against yours allowing you both to catch your breath.

Wanda is the best thing that has ever happened to you so you make sure she knows that. You move a hand to rub her cheek with your thumb, "I love you," you tell her as if the room is full of people and you are telling her a secret.

Once Wanda replies with her 'I love you' you bring her lips back to yours and show her in more ways than one, just how much you love her, the game night forgotten… until the next time you needed to remind her of her betrayal of course.

A/N: Did you think they were going to break up? April fools, I guess... Hehehe

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff

[romanoffswands]

soothing touch | n.r./w.m.

Summary: Natasha hates storms, they take her mind back to her darkest memories. Wanda helps Natasha through the storm, bringing her back to herself

Request: WandaNat. There's a massive thunder storm and Natasha's very scared . She hides away from the other avengers but Wanda finds her girlfriend and distracts her by using her magic at help her tell her scared girlfriend a fairy tale. Nat only sleeps that night cuddled up in Wanda's arms (she's using her magic to dull the storm).

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Word Count: 800

Notes: hihi sorry if this sucks! i haven't written in ages and this is my first time writing a fic without it being character x reader. my first character x character fic. i hope y'all like this <;3 also sorry this is short

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‘Be afraid…very afraid,’ Natasha, along with the rest of the team, rolled their eyes at Tony’s attempt at humour. A horror movie played on the screen in front while the weather outside the compound started to mimic the eerie darkness that was in the movie. There had been a massive storm warning which grounded the team from any missions, especially since it was fairly early in the afternoon but looked as if it was midnight. 

Natasha wasn’t phased by the storm, not until the thunder started booming. Wanda felt Natasha stiffen at the first round of thunder. Picked up on her heart rate increasing and jaw tightening. But just tried to hold her girlfriend closer to give some reassurance. Natasha tried to seem unaffected but the loudness of the thunder started shaking her mind. Bringing her back to some of her worst memories. 

She had never been a fan of thunder, there was something about it and how it always came with darkness that connected her back to her childhood. Trying to seem unphased, not wanting to panic or worry Wanda, she yawned and told the team she was just going to get some rest.

‘Tasha, did you want me to come with you?’ Wanda whispered to her girlfriend, she knew it was more than just being tired.

Natasha shook her head, ‘Wands, I’ll be fine a few hours without you,’ trying to lighten the mood already knowing that Wanda can sense when something isn’t right with Natasha. Wanda nodded, even if deep down she knew something wasn’t sitting right she also knew how to trust Natasha.

‘I love you,’

‘I love you too detka,’ 

Once Natasha reached their shared bedroom, everything was a blur. The thunder seemed louder, more isolated as if it was just for her to hear. Hands shaking, tears starting to prick at her eyes, laboured breathing. Somehow Natasha managed to find the bed and climbed in clutching the sheets close to her body. The more the thunder boomed, the more she tried to hide and fight the darkness her mind was slipping into. 

Wanda on the other hand couldn’t stay and watch the movie, things just didn’t feel right. She didn’t know what exactly but all Wanda knew was that she had to check on Natasha. Once she reached their bedroom her heart broke at the sight of Natasha. Someone who always carried themselves to seem so big, tough and untouchable, now looked so small and fragile shaking while tightly clutching at the sheets.

Natasha was unaware of Wanda’s presence, if it wasn’t something that was happening in her mind then she wasn’t aware of it. Wanda knew to keep a bit of distance, not needing to startle her when her mind is in such a state. Wanda started gently humming. Noticing how it wasn’t working, especially with the storm over powering, ‘I’m sorry,’ Wanda always felt bad whenever anything resorted to using her magic on Natasha. 

Though sometimes it was needed and Natasha had told Wanda she trusted her enough now that if it ever got to a point where Wanda needed to, then she could go into Natasha’s mind. Natasha knew Wanda would only ever use her magic on her for good, unlike the first time it ever happened.

At first Natasha didn’t notice it, but slowly she started coming back into herself. The dark memories were soon replaced with happy memories but in a fairytale like manner. A story, with a character, a child, that looked just like Natasha. Growing up in a light and cheerful place, meeting her very own princess and all of their own memories that they’ve both made together, flooding through Natasha’s memory. She smiled, remembering the time when Natasha was really unwell so Wanda twisted reality to distract her and make her smile during less desirable times. 

Wanda. Natasha’s eyes shot open, adjusting to the dim light of the room, and saw Wanda sitting right beside her. Natasha didn’t say anything, instead she wrapped her arms around Wanda and buried her face in her neck.

‘Shh it’s okay…you’re safe…I’ve got you,’ Wanda whispered over and over while holding Natasha in her arms, ‘Try and get some sleep, my love,’ Wanda moved them so they were laying down. Natasha stayed attached to Wanda, not wanting to leave her side. 

That night Wanda did her best to dull the loudness of the storm so it wouldn’t startle Natasha again. And Natasha stayed close, falling asleep thinking that being cuddled up in her girlfriend’s arms is the solution to all of her problems.

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #wandanat fluff