Bea 🐝

She’d left for a mission a couple of days later, leaving you and Wanda alone for a week, when a box had shown up at the door.

“It’s for you, detka,” Wanda had smiled as she presented you with the box at the breakfast bar in the compound. Everyone else was assigned to missions, leaving the two of you with the place to yourselves. It had been a welcome break for the both of you, though you each missed Natasha immensely.

The three of you had come together into this relationship easily when you had joined the team. Wanda and Natasha both kept their eyes on you eagerly, until one night at one of Tony’s infamous parties. A lot of alcohol had been consumed, leaving to drunken whispers of lust that had led you to the room Natasha and Wanda had shared, and you’d barely left since.

It had taken a while for the avengers to come around to the idea of a trio, but Natasha was quick to warn the team that any and all remarks, comments and whispers about any of you would not be welcome. It was nice to feel protected and safe, and by the two most drop dead gorgeous women you had ever seen?

Damn, you were lucky.

The box wasn’t overly big, but the white box was adorned with a big red bow which brought a childlike grin to your face as you dusted the crumbs from your toast from your fingers.

“For me?” You had questioned, peering over to see if there was a label or anything that would indicate where it had come from. But something told you that Wanda already knew - there was a twinkle in her green eyes that gave her away. Unlike Natasha, she was easily read.

“Mhm,” Wanda hummed, taking a seat on the bar stool next to you. “Go ahead and open it, y/n,” she smiles, pushing the box a little closer to you.

The bow peeled away effortlessly, and the lid slid off it just as easily. Red tissue paper lay folded but you could already make out the faint line of something nestled neatly beneath the layers.

Your eyes widened, and an eyebrow quirked as you pulled the red, lacy underwear from the box, holding it up. You looked to see if you could find a matching bra to go with it, but there was just the underwear.

“I thought you could wear those during our movie night later,” Wanda smiled, her hand moving to gently place her palm against the small of your back while her thumb moved in small circles in place.

Your fingers stroked the thin material of the panties in your hand and you already felt the heat rising at your core for whatever it was Wanda had in mind, but one thing you were sure of was the fact that you probably wouldn’t be watching the movie at all.

———————————————————————————

One of the major advantages to the compound being so big was that it had practically everything the avengers could want or possibly need, which was how you and Wanda were sitting alone in the oversized movie theatre.

Wanda had picked the film and you had worn the gift that had arrived that morning underneath your jeans and your cami top. Always one to run hot, you didn’t wrap up warm unlike Wanda, who was wrapped in a thick jumper with a blanket over her lap.

The movie hadn’t even started properly and you could already feeling bored. You loved the Sokovian woman but her choices in film and TV shows were enough to bore you to tears.

The smaller witch had nestled up against your side, sighing happily when she felt your arm drape across her shoulders as she stretched out on the leather sofas, thankful that Tony had included both reclining seats and sofa options for the home cinema, affording you both the comfort and closeness you craved. Of course you were missing Natasha, but you were mostly glad you hadn’t been left alone.

You were on the verge of dozing when the doors to the theatre burst open and Tony, Steve and Bruce walked in loudly, having returned early from their mission.

So much for date night.

“What’s up, love birds?” Tony remarks with a smirk as he flops down into a recliner, kicking his feet back.

“What are we watching?” Steve asks, sitting down in a more gentle fashion in front of you and Wanda.

“You’re back early,” you comment, disdain lacing your voice - although the fact that they had returned early meant that you were now awake and wouldn’t have to endure Wanda being annoyed that you’d once again fallen asleep during her choice of movies.

“Casablanca,” Wanda replies, hushing the trio with a frown, placing her index finger over her lips to indicate that she wants them to be quiet.

“A classic if you ask me,” Bruce nods, relaxing back into one of the other sofas to enjoy the movie.

“Mission was a bust so we thought we’d come back and keep you company. Somebody needs to chaperone the two of you when you’re left alone - and I noticed you’d disabled J.A.R.V.I.S,” Tony smirks, wiggling his eyebrows in a teasing fashion.

Flipping him the bird, you rolled your eyes. “Because God forbid we have any privacy around here,” you reply, earning you a sharp jab from Wanda’s elbow.

“Shush. You’re going to miss the movie!” She hushes, frowning at you. It’s hard not to notice how adorable she is when she pouts her lips and tries to be all stern.

She was definitely not the top in this relationship, but you loved how she would try to take control when Natasha was away.

Eventually, everyone settled down to watch the movie in silence. Your hand rested across Wanda’s shoulder, while one of her arms lay wrapped across your stomach as she curled into you, resting her head on your shoulder peacefully. Her other hand sat slightly above your knee, something you were aware of because of the lazy patterns she was drawing against your jeans.

Draping the blanket over the both of you, regardless of the fact you weren’t cold, Wanda cuddled closer as her hand started to move up the seam of your thighs, causing you to look down at her with a smirk playing on the corners of your lips.

“Shush, detka,” she whispers, tilting her head to look up at you before placing a kiss to the nape of your neck. You hadn’t even said anything but she could hear your thoughts loud and clear.

Turning her head back to the screen, she quickly glances to the clock at the wall with a mischievous smile before settling her head back to your shoulder.

It wasn’t much longer before you felt it.

Your muscles came alive with the soft vibrations coming quickly from between your legs, causing you to jump sharply in your seat. Wanda kept her arm gripped tightly around you, pinning you in place before the vibrations quickly stopped.

“What the-“ you started, before she placed her index finger against your lips.

“Do you want everyone to hear you, baby?” She said, her voice taunting as her eyes gleamed up at you. “This is all part of the fun,” she grins, only turning to look back to the movie when she heard the rustle from the leather of the sofa, meaning that Bruce had noticed the disturbance from across the room.

Raising your fist to your mouth, you cough a little to disguise the noise and reach down for your bottle of water to take a sip. Hopefully that would placate the scientist, before settling back down.

The vibrations started again, more intense this time, and Wanda moved her arm gently beneath the blanket to the crotch of your jeans, applying some pressure to the buzzing panties, right where you needed it.

Biting your inner cheek to try and prevent yourself from moaning, your mouth runs dry as you feel yourself pooling at your core. You’d had no idea that the panties were anything more than just that, and you had no idea how Wanda was commanding them to come alive - but you didn’t exactly care.

“You think you came to watch a movie, dorogoy, but tonight you are the show,” Wanda husked against your earlobe, her tongue lathing at the skin, sucking it gently before releasing it.

You could feel your heartbeat hammering loudly between your ears as the buzzing intensified, speeding up against your clit. Nobody else seemed to be aware of what was happening but you were sure that if anyone looked at you and noticed your rosy cheeks and the frown that had creased upon your forehead with pleasure that it would be a dead giveaway as to what was happening beneath the blanket.

Whether it was Wanda’s fingers working at your crotch above your jeans, or the sensations from the panties you weren’t sure but as the intensity grew further you could feel yourself nearing your climax. There was something about being in a room with some of your teammates that amplified the sensations, but just as you thought you were just there… everything stopped.

Wanda removed her hand, the panties stopped vibrating and you were left chasing the remnants of your ruined orgasm while your clit throbbed between your legs.

A gasp escaped your lips almost involuntarily, and Wanda turned her head to look at you innocently.

“Everything okay, y/n?” She asked, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. You wanted to flip her over and pin her down right there and then - and you would have if you were alone.

But you weren’t. Fuck.

“Just..peachy,” you nodded, trying to remember how to string words together and how to resist the urge to fuck your girlfriend right there and then.

“Why don’t you lay down and get comfortable with me?” Wanda suggests, shifting slightly to allow you to stretch out - and when you do, she nestles herself on top of you on the sofa comfortable.

“Keep it PG back there, won’t you? We know what happens in the back row of the movies you know,” Tony snickers, throwing a glance back at you both.

“Shut it, Stark,” you snap, maybe a little harshly but given the fact that your brain is being overruled by your pussy, you don’t really care.

Your thoughts are quickly interrupted by the feeling of Wanda unbuttoning your jeans, and then lowering the zip before sliding her fingers against the now ruined panties. The smirk on her lips is practically devilish when she feels your slick against her fingers, two of which she slips through the lace of the panties to brush them against the length of your slit.

You don’t have a chance to say anything before she pushes two fingers inside of you, her thumb keeping the vibrator against your clit just as it roars back into life, the speed increasing slowly in short, sharp burst until it’s a constant buzz. Her fingers curl deep within you, exactly at the point she knows drives you wild and you can’t hold on for much longer.

Your breathing is laboured and your fists are gripping at the blanket that Wanda has draped over you as you try to remain quiet, not wanting to alert the others to what was happening on the sofa.

Wanda doesn’t thrust into you, instead dragging her fingers slowly against your walls, smirking to herself as she feels you tightening around her in response. When the vibrations hit the highest setting you crash into your orgasm, your body going rigid against the sofa, your heels digging into the opposite arm of the sofa as you bite your tongue, swallowing the loud moan that would ordinarily be spilling from your mouth.

“Good girl,” Wanda grins, leaning up slightly to kiss your lips while she removes her fingers, laying back against you as she brings them to her mouth, sucking them clean. It takes everything within you not to react, not that you were sure that you could’ve done anything immediately if you tried.

She gives you a minute to recover, wrapping her arm around your waist, squeezing you gently.

You’d yet to meet the rest of the Avengers. You knew of their reputation, and although you’d been scared to admit it to Wanda when you had first gotten together, you had told her one early morning as you lay with your head on her chest while the sun rose that you were intimidated by them. What if they didn’t like you? What if they didn’t think you were good enough for Wanda? What if they felt the need to abolish you from her life in one way or another.

Of course, she had reassured you that there was no way that would happen: that they were her friends and they’d love you - and she had put you at ease, you’d both agreed to wait just a little longer. Besides, it meant that there was still time for Wanda to keep you for herself - and she loved that too.

Setting the bags of takeout down on the kitchen counter, a frown creasing her forehead as she turns around, wondering where you had gotten to. She had texted you to tell you that she was bringing food, and although you had read it, you hadn’t replied. But the read receipt told her that you knew she was coming over.

“Y/N? Are you home?” She calls out, this time heading towards your bedroom. The door was open and your bedside table was on, casting light and shadows simultaneously against the magnolia walls of your rental property.

It had gotten dark outside early as a storm had rolled in across the city. Rain pelted against the windows while the wind howled, and it had been storming for the past hour or so. “I’m sorry I’m a little later than I said I’d be. Traffic was crazy out. You’d think it was the end of the world, and not a little storm,” she chuckles to herself, before turning out of the bedroom and glancing at the bathroom.

Again, the door was slightly ajar, but all the lights were off. Instinct should have told Wanda that there’s no use checking the bathroom, and yet, she found herself pushing the door open.

Her eyebrows raise as she switches on the light, her eyes landing on you, curled up in the tub.

“Honey, why are you in an empty tub in the dark?” She asks, crouching down at the side of the bathtub with a concerned expression upon her face. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t have to answer verbally. A roll of thunder growled across the night sky, followed by a flash of lightening. Your whole body jumped, causing you to hit your head on the side of the tap. If you weren’t trembling before the impact, you were now.

“Are you scared of storms?” Wanda asks, immediately reaching forward to rest her hand against the side of your head.

Shame washes over your body. You’re way too old to be cowering at the weather. Mentally, you know this. But you can’t help the fear that has you trapped within its vice-like grip.

“I’m not scared, I just-“ you began, before being interrupted by another roll of thunder.

Before you even had a chance to say another word, Wanda had risen to her feet, scooping you up and into her arms, carrying you bridal-style into the living room, where she had set you down on the couch.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, y/n. All fears are valid, and you can always tell me what and how you are feeling. There’s no shame in that,” she says, shaking her head. “Give me five minutes and I will be right back,” she says with a smile, before shrugging off the long cardigan she had chosen to wear. Delicately wrapping it around your shoulders, she places a kiss to your forehead. “There, it’s like a hug from me. It’ll keep you safe until I’m done,” she says, before scurrying off to your bedroom.

Wanda isn’t gone for too long - maybe ten minutes or so, when she comes back to you on the sofa where she finds you pulling the cardigan tightly across your chest. Your knees are brought up to your chest and your forehead rests upon them while you tried to drown out the sounds of the storm outside.

There was no way Wanda was going to explain to you that lightening can travel through plumbing during a storm - and that was why she had lifted you out of the tub. Instead, she taps your shoulder gently and takes your hand, leading you back to the bedroom.

You stayed close to Wanda as she walked before you, your body huddled close to your girlfriend and your grip holding her hand tightly, squeezing it every time you heard another roll of thunder.

It’s absolutely stupid for a grown adult to be afraid of a storm. She’s going to think I’m an idiot.

“I’m not going to think you’re an idiot,” Wanda tells you with a smirk, turning to look at you as your eyes widen. You still hadn’t gotten quite used to the fact that she could read minds - and you often forgot it too.

She kisses the tip of your nose and smiles, before leaning to kiss your lips softly. “You’re adorable. And I’m going to show you that there’s nothing to be afraid of,” she tells you, before she pushes open your bedroom door.

Inside the room, your bedroom looks almost unrecognisable. Sheets and linens had been draped from the ceiling to both walls. Your bed faced the windows in the room, and your bed had been lined with a cacophony of pillows.

Wanda had built you a fort.

Not only was it a fort, it was a fort adorned with fairy lights and the Chinese take out she knew you loved from that place a few blocks away.

“Come on, y/n. Climb in,” she says, releasing your hand only to climb onto the bed, patting the space besides her until you quickly followed. The scent of her perfume on the cardigan she had given you earlier had already helped to relax you, but there was truly no better feeling than of Wanda’s arms circling you protectively.

From where you both lay, you had a great view of the city. It may not be dark outside because night had fallen, but the storm had brought its own darkness in early. “Nothing is ever going to hurt you, y/n. Not while I’m around,” she tells you, allowing you to nestle your head into the crook of her neck. When she feels you flinch with another roll of thunder, she chuckles to herself. “We can watch the storm together and you’ll see,” she tells you.

“You’re laughing at me,” you say, a little timidly. This was the reason you never told anyone about your fear of thunder and lightening. This was was a fear that is traditionally rooted in children under the age of ten, and you had passed that marker decades ago.

“No, baby. I’m not laughing at you,” Wanda promises, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Her hand smooths it’s way up and down your back gently as she watches the storm outside.

“I’m laughing because of the circumstances. You know of Thor, right?” She asks, looking down at you, and watching as you nod your head quietly. “Well…he’s known as the God of thunder. Well, his name means Thunder. Legend has it that lightning was created by him using his Mjolnir - or so I’ve been told,” Wanda explains.

Lifting your head curiously, you raise an eyebrow towards the redhead. “So you’re telling me that all of this is caused by Thor having a tantrum?”

“Well, technically thunderstorms are caused by the atmosphere being unstable - when warm air exists underneath colder air,” Wanda begins to explain, stopping only when she sees you frowning.

“I think I prefer the idea of Thor having a temper tantrum,” you admit, setting your head back down on her shoulder before wrapping your arm around Wanda’s waist.

Her fingers play with the ends of your hair as she hums a soft melody for a moment with a smile on her face as she relishes the comfort of you snuggling up to her.

“If you prefer, you can always tell our children that Uncle Thor is having a tantrum if they’re scared of storms,” she muses quietly, bringing a smile to your face.

Wanda wants a family with you.

And you want a family with her.

And in years to come, whenever there is a thunderstorm, you’re no longer afraid. Not when you’re cuddling your wife and three children beneath a blanket fort in the middle of your living room.

You’d yet to meet the rest of the Avengers. You knew of their reputation, and although you’d been scared to admit it to Wanda when you had first gotten together, you had told her one early morning as you lay with your head on her chest while the sun rose that you were intimidated by them. What if they didn’t like you? What if they didn’t think you were good enough for Wanda? What if they felt the need to abolish you from her life in one way or another.

Of course, she had reassured you that there was no way that would happen: that they were her friends and they’d love you - and she had put you at ease, you’d both agreed to wait just a little longer. Besides, it meant that there was still time for Wanda to keep you for herself - and she loved that too.

Setting the bags of takeout down on the kitchen counter, a frown creasing her forehead as she turns around, wondering where you had gotten to. She had texted you to tell you that she was bringing food, and although you had read it, you hadn’t replied. But the read receipt told her that you knew she was coming over.

“Y/N? Are you home?” She calls out, this time heading towards your bedroom. The door was open and your bedside table was on, casting light and shadows simultaneously against the magnolia walls of your rental property.

It had gotten dark outside early as a storm had rolled in across the city. Rain pelted against the windows while the wind howled, and it had been storming for the past hour or so. “I’m sorry I’m a little later than I said I’d be. Traffic was crazy out. You’d think it was the end of the world, and not a little storm,” she chuckles to herself, before turning out of the bedroom and glancing at the bathroom.

Again, the door was slightly ajar, but all the lights were off. Instinct should have told Wanda that there’s no use checking the bathroom, and yet, she found herself pushing the door open.

Her eyebrows raise as she switches on the light, her eyes landing on you, curled up in the tub.

“Honey, why are you in an empty tub in the dark?” She asks, crouching down at the side of the bathtub with a concerned expression upon her face. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t have to answer verbally. A roll of thunder growled across the night sky, followed by a flash of lightening. Your whole body jumped, causing you to hit your head on the side of the tap. If you weren’t trembling before the impact, you were now.

“Are you scared of storms?” Wanda asks, immediately reaching forward to rest her hand against the side of your head.

Shame washes over your body. You’re way too old to be cowering at the weather. Mentally, you know this. But you can’t help the fear that has you trapped within its vice-like grip.

“I’m not scared, I just-“ you began, before being interrupted by another roll of thunder.

Before you even had a chance to say another word, Wanda had risen to her feet, scooping you up and into her arms, carrying you bridal-style into the living room, where she had set you down on the couch.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, y/n. All fears are valid, and you can always tell me what and how you are feeling. There’s no shame in that,” she says, shaking her head. “Give me five minutes and I will be right back,” she says with a smile, before shrugging off the long cardigan she had chosen to wear. Delicately wrapping it around your shoulders, she places a kiss to your forehead. “There, it’s like a hug from me. It’ll keep you safe until I’m done,” she says, before scurrying off to your bedroom.

Wanda isn’t gone for too long - maybe ten minutes or so, when she comes back to you on the sofa where she finds you pulling the cardigan tightly across your chest. Your knees are brought up to your chest and your forehead rests upon them while you tried to drown out the sounds of the storm outside.

There was no way Wanda was going to explain to you that lightening can travel through plumbing during a storm - and that was why she had lifted you out of the tub. Instead, she taps your shoulder gently and takes your hand, leading you back to the bedroom.

You stayed close to Wanda as she walked before you, your body huddled close to your girlfriend and your grip holding her hand tightly, squeezing it every time you heard another roll of thunder.

It’s absolutely stupid for a grown adult to be afraid of a storm. She’s going to think I’m an idiot.

“I’m not going to think you’re an idiot,” Wanda tells you with a smirk, turning to look at you as your eyes widen. You still hadn’t gotten quite used to the fact that she could read minds - and you often forgot it too.

She kisses the tip of your nose and smiles, before leaning to kiss your lips softly. “You’re adorable. And I’m going to show you that there’s nothing to be afraid of,” she tells you, before she pushes open your bedroom door.

Inside the room, your bedroom looks almost unrecognisable. Sheets and linens had been draped from the ceiling to both walls. Your bed faced the windows in the room, and your bed had been lined with a cacophony of pillows.

Wanda had built you a fort.

Not only was it a fort, it was a fort adorned with fairy lights and the Chinese take out she knew you loved from that place a few blocks away.

“Come on, y/n. Climb in,” she says, releasing your hand only to climb onto the bed, patting the space besides her until you quickly followed. The scent of her perfume on the cardigan she had given you earlier had already helped to relax you, but there was truly no better feeling than of Wanda’s arms circling you protectively.

From where you both lay, you had a great view of the city. It may not be dark outside because night had fallen, but the storm had brought its own darkness in early. “Nothing is ever going to hurt you, y/n. Not while I’m around,” she tells you, allowing you to nestle your head into the crook of her neck. When she feels you flinch with another roll of thunder, she chuckles to herself. “We can watch the storm together and you’ll see,” she tells you.

“You’re laughing at me,” you say, a little timidly. This was the reason you never told anyone about your fear of thunder and lightening. This was was a fear that is traditionally rooted in children under the age of ten, and you had passed that marker decades ago.

“No, baby. I’m not laughing at you,” Wanda promises, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Her hand smooths it’s way up and down your back gently as she watches the storm outside.

“I’m laughing because of the circumstances. You know if Thor, right?” She asks, looking down at you, and watching as you nod your head quietly. “Well…he’s known as the God of thunder. Well, his name means Thunder. Legend has it that lightning was created by him using his Mjolnir - or so I’ve been told,” Wanda explains.

Lifting your head curiously, you raise an eyebrow towards the redhead. “So you’re telling me that all of this is caused by Thor having a tantrum?”

“Well, technically thunderstorms are caused by the atmosphere being unstable - when warm air exists underneath colder air,” Wanda begins to explain, stopping only when she sees you frowning.

“I think I prefer the idea of Thor having a temper tantrum,” you admit, setting your head back down on her shoulder before wrapping your arm around Wanda’s waist.

Her fingers play with the ends of your hair as she hums a soft melody for a moment with a smile on her face as she relishes the comfort of you snuggling up to her.

“If you prefer, you can always tell our children that Uncle Thor is having a tantrum if they’re scared of storms,” she muses quietly, bringing a smile to your face.

Wanda wants a family with you.

And you want a family with her.

And in years to come, whenever there is a thunderstorm, you’re no longer afraid. Not when you’re cuddling your wife and three children beneath a blanket fort in the middle of your living room.

Unluckily for you, she can also hear the litany of curse words running through your head, the self deprecation as you flip the grilled cheese sandwich and inspect the burnt bits to see if there's any way you can just - "I doubt scraping off the edges is going to help, detka," Wanda smiles, walking up behind you before circling her arms around your waist. Her chin comes to rest on your shoulder, and she presses a soft kiss to your neck.

Releasing a sigh of defeat, you shake your head as you slide the spatula back under the grilled cheese sandwich and flip it again, revealing the underside to be just as burnt as the top. "You've got the stove on too high, moya lyubov," Wanda explains, reaching forward to turn the dial on the stove, lowering the heat. In the six months that you have been dating, Wanda has come to learn that you have zero ability in the kitchen. But your perseverance and insistence is adorable, especially when you wrinkle your nose as you try to convince yourself that you won't burn the food. Resting the spatula on the side in a show of defeat, you release a loud sigh.

"Take out again?" You ask, conceding defeat as you turn to see your girlfriend reaching for the top drawer. But if you were going to continue trying to make an effort, then she was going to at least try the grilled cheese.

Once she has it on a plate, Wanda studies it carefully. The knife cuts through the sandwich with a loud crunch, causing you to wince. It definitely doesn't look appetising, but it was made with love and good intentions.

Which is what Wanda repeated to herself as she lifted one half of the sandwich to her mouth, silently saying a prayer as she takes a bite. She can feel your eyes watching intently, waiting for a reaction.

She chews once.

She chews twice.

There's a nod of her head, and a small smile as she looks up at you. She really wants the grilled cheese to be edible, really she does.

"It's..... crunchy," she says, struggling to find an adjective that wouldn't offend, before she puts the sandwich down on the plate, before looking back up at you.

"It's awful," You sigh, a look of defeat on your face. You had just wanted to do something nice for your girlfriend. "That's okay, we can get take out. Maybe some sushi, or something?" You already have the menus in your hand, fanning them out so that she can have her choice of lunch.

Wanda shakes her head and she smiles, stepping forward to press a kiss to your lips, her arms circling your neck as she looks at you lovingly. "It's not awful, y/n. But maybe we can leave the cooking to me in future? Sushi sounds great, and it'll be my treat," she decides with a nod.

Instead they had decided on an excursion out to the woods. Dottie had suggested that before they send any of the children of Westview on a camping trip, that the parents themselves should experience it. To make sure that it was safe, of course. To an extent, Wanda agreed with that and had nodded her head, her eyes crossing the linen lined tables as her fingertips had rolled easily across the rim of her porcelain mug. And that had been the reasoning behind half of the city of Westview setting up camp in a local wooded area.

Wanda had elected to stay in a tent on her own - much to Dottie’s chagrin. She had wanted everyone to pair up, but really, she wanted to have her own space and the idea of the boys sharing with some of the local rapscallion’s didn’t exactly fill her with joy either.

It had all been going well until after dark. Everyone had eaten their dinner around the campfire that had spit out swirling embers up into the night sky, the clouds of smoke raising up high above their heads. It had been nice to be outside, you couldn’t really see much of the stars and the constellations within the city limits but out here? The sky was bright and the cloud coverage was minimal.

When Wanda had first heard the loud roll of thunder, her eyes had sprung open. She had left a small camping torch in the corner of her tent so leaning over to look at her watch she could see that it was coming up to midnight. The temperature had dropped and the air was much cooler now. The wind battered against the sides of the tent as the storm rolled in loudly, announcing it’s presence before being swiftly followed by a flash of lightening.

She had jumped - involuntarily. She had never liked thunderstorms - and she had never admitted that to anyone other than Pietro before. He had only found out by chance, stumbling across a catatonic Wanda in the middle of a thunderstorm when they were travelling across the Verkhoyansk range of mountains of Siberia. Together they had concluded that it was a product of PTSD. That the sudden commencement of thunder would be a trigger for it - perhaps attributed to the war in Sokovia, perhaps to something else. She hadn’t really ever had time to sit with a therapist to decide which problem stemmed from which point in her life. There were far too many to choose from on both sides.

The unzipping of her tent caused Wanda to jump again, her hand this time clutching her chest as her head whipped back around to see a familiar face entering - without permission, but somethings never really did change, did they?

“I heard you scream, hon. Is everything okay in here?” Agatha had asked, crawling into the tent before she returned the zip back to the top, sealing them both inside. Having Agatha arrive unannounced wasn’t an uncommon occurrence - she had often just turned up at her front door - or in her kitchen, or in the yard - or, well, anywhere she wanted to be, really.

A frown crosses Wanda’s face before she gulps and nods her head in a bid to try and keep her nerve, to steady her composure.

“Ah, c’mon, sweetheart. You can tell me. It’s just little old Agnes!” The cheery voice - even at almost midnight, was enough to make the smallest of smiles appear on Wanda’s lips before she exhales slowly. “Ah, you see. There! I saw it. There’s that smile,” Agatha teases, leaning forward to poke at Wanda’s cheek playfully.

“It’s nothing. The storm just caught me off guard, that’s all,” the redhead replies, leaning back a little. It was easier for her to lie than it was to admit her fear of the storm - that would require explanations and Wanda was fresh out of those today.

“Wanda Maximoff,” Agatha draws back. Wanda figures that if Agatha was standing before her, she would have her hands on her hips and a look of bemusement etched upon her face - but right here, right now and inside of the tent? All she can see is a look of concern.

It’s puzzling, really. She hadn’t expected that reaction. They were neighbours, sure. Friends, maybe. Had Wanda often wondered about Agatha as she lay in bed alone in the early morning hours when the kids were asleep? More likely than she would care to admit.

“I’ll be fine, Agatha. Really, I promise. You should go and get some sleep,” Wanda says, shooing Agatha with her hands before she shuffles back down onto the blow-up mattress, pulling the duvet up to her chin. Dottie had suggested bringing a sleeping bag, but Wanda had protested and brought her duvet instead. Mostly just to spite the woman who had dragged them out into the forest in the first place - but also because she liked the soft downy texture.

“Are you telling me that Wanda Maximoff, the woman who does it all, is scared of a little thunderstorm?” Agatha had asked, crawling slightly further up the bed to peel back some of the duvet that was half hiding Wanda’s face, looking down at her with a soft smile instead of something in jest. “You do know that a thunderstorm is just when layers of warm air rise in an updraft to the cooler regions of the atmosphere? It’s all perfectly reasonable, dear,” she tells Wanda, trying to explain it to her, hoping that it would help to calm her down.

But before Wanda even had a chance to reply, the tent was shrouded in light from a flash of lightening that was swiftly followed by a loud roll of thunder. Her entire body froze as a shrieking sound emitted from her voice, causing Agatha to instinctively pull Wanda towards her. It took her only a second to end up beneath the covers, holding a shaking Wanda in her arms. Soft whispers muttered against Wanda’s ear were meant to try and calm her down as her hand stroked her arm slowly, allowing the redhead to curl into her.

Something she seemed to do naturally.

“Agatha?” She said, breaking her silence after a while.

“I’ll stay, and be gone before sunlight. The others won’t notice,” Agatha’s reply was soft, and not rude or laced with shame. More so an understanding between them, silent and uncommunicated and yet they both knew.

She was so much more to that. Layers of trauma had shielded who she had been before. Wanda Maximoff had been a daughter, a sister, a friend. A carefree young girl who had a love of sitcoms and a seemingly unbreakable bond with her family. She had loved the way her mother made paprikash, and the way her father would scoop her up into his arms for one of his infamous bear hugs.

She and Pietro fought occasionally but truthfully, what siblings didn’t? But beyond the petty arguments and clashing of two very different minds - their bond as twins was unbreakable and the disagreements never lasted for long.

Wanda Maximoff had always been about family. She loved the dynamics that a family unit built, she loved the closeness and the safety that a family provided. Sitcoms even strengthened that love, showing that all the way across the world, family meant everything.

As much as the Avengers had welcomed her into the compound, declaring her part of their family - for the first time ever, Wanda couldn’t associate the term with this group of people.

She didn’t have that bond with any of them. She barely knew them - and was only familiar with them because of the files HYDRA had her study so that she could destroy them. She knew their interests, their basic information, their individual powers but she didn’t know them.

She didn’t know what their favourite foods were, or whether they were scared of horror films. She didn’t know what would make them laugh or cry, or what they dreamt of. They weren’t family.

She had been dropped off at her room when they had gotten to the compound. An innocent task, showing the witch where she would be living. Tony had said that this was her personal space, that she could do whatever she wanted to it. He had shown her the security system, pointed to the cat eye camera in the corner of the room.

For her safety, he had told her.

But as soon as she was left alone, the first panic attack came.

Somewhere deep down she knew that he had good intentions. Tony had wanted her to put her own stamp on the place. He had even said that she could buy whatever she wanted with his credit card, knowing that she had nothing to her name. Part of her had wondered whether it was some kind of removed familial guilt - the bomb that had been the catalyst for the long sequence of tragedy in her life had of course, been built by his father.

But you see, the room itself was bare. Painted brick, a camera in the corner of the room. And although there was a door instead of bars, and a large, rather comfortable looking bed instead of a bench, Wanda could reach out and run her fingers across the brick and it would be just like she was back in her cell at HYDRA.

She’d had nothing then, too. A camera to monitor her movements. A small television that sometimes worked if you smacked it with the palm of your hand and angled the aerial in just the right way. Cold, bare brick that would sweat due to improper ventilation.

The only difference was that she wasn’t free to leave, there. Wanda had spent many years at the HYDRA facility - and granted, she had signed up for that, but it didn’t make it any less traumatic. She hadn’t expected to be locked away as she had. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure what she had expected but she knew it was one of the only ways to get food and water.

That was when Vision had phased through the wall, startling the witch. She had scurried back so quickly that she collided against the cold brick wall, slumping down to the ground. Her green eyes wide as she struggled to control her breathing.

“Miss Maximoff, I do apologise for the intrusion. I sensed high levels of fear and sadness, and I wanted to check on you,” he says, his accent proper and his tone polite.

Sharp gasps of breath from Wanda as her hands, lined with rings, grip to her knees as she tries to ground herself. When she speaks, her accent is thick and her words are unintelligible.

“I. Can’t. Do. This,” she pants, her cheeks stained with smudged eyeliner and tears. She’d not given herself time to mourn her brother. The powers HYDRA had given her were supposed to protect them. They were supposed to be indestructible.

Even back there, whenever she was scared, she could speak out and she would hear her brother. She would hear him zooming around his cell. She would be able to tap into his mind. Even though she couldn’t see him, she knew he was there.

He had always been there for Wanda. She’d never been without him - he’d even been born fourteen seconds earlier than her. He was her protector, her brother, her twin.

Until he wasn’t.

Vision had stood watching her momentarily, and in a moment of vulnerability, Wanda had allowed him to wrap his strong arms around her to scoop her up from the floor.

She hadn’t told him what was wrong, but somehow, he had known what to do. Vision had gotten her out of that room, and instead, he had brought her to the living quarters at the back of the compound.

There were many communal areas, but this was one of the ones seldom used. It was far away from the kitchen, the gym, and the labs, and so most of the avengers would gather in one of the other areas that would be closer to where they would be working.

Nobody had questioned her when she had started sleeping on the sofa there. Nobody had dared. They were all very aware that her powers were unstable, and that they didn’t know her triggers. The avengers had collectively decided that they weren’t even sure that Wanda had known her triggers - and they were correct.

She would appear for training in the gym with Nat. She would attend dinners - albeit, mostly sitting quietly. Her friendship with Vision was growing stronger by the day. The synthezoid was the only one who wouldn’t look at her in fear. He would approach her with that kind smile, talk to her with his soft voice and most importantly, he would listen.

One day, when the rain was falling heavily against the large paned windows of the glass, she would confide in him about her first day at the compound. It was the first time she had truly opened up about her experience at HYDRA. About why she’d had the panic attack.

Vision had mostly put it down to being overwhelmed, and while he was somewhat correct, he had learnt a lot about the way humans grieved. About the way humans feared. About the way humans were able to store memories that were laced with emotion. It was something he had never encountered. He had memories but they were just factual. His database wasn’t programmed for anything more - or so he had thought.

For the more Wanda opened up to him, the more Vision thought he began to feel. He wanted to do everything he could to bring the definition of happiness into her life again. Vision wanted to take away the darkness from her. Wanda deserved that.

And so, he had set to work.

The next couple of days, Wanda barely saw or heard from the synthezoid. She missed his presence, but rather than dwelling upon it, she threw herself into her training. She spent all of her time in the gym, working with Nat and the other team members to build up her strength. To discover more about what her powers really meant.

But try as she might, she couldn’t wonder if Vision was avoiding her. Had she done something wrong?

The compound was large, but she had become very adept in memorising layouts. It was something she’d had to do at the HYDRA base with its complex maze of winding tunnels and dark corridors.

Eventually, she found herself staring at the room where Tony had dropped her off a couple of weeks earlier. It wasn’t a place she had been back to, but she could hear Vision’s soft voice coming from inside.

A twist of the door handle has the witch pushing it open gently, and she stops in her tracks.

The room looked entirely different to how it had when Wanda had arrived. The walls which were once painted brick were smooth and a light grey colour. The large bed was made and spread with blankets and pillows. Soft lights flowed through the decorative lampshades.

Above the bed were three hung crosses - which Vision would explain were hung to represent her mother, father and brother.

It was no longer just a room, nor one that would trigger flashbacks to the cell she had called hers for years. This was her home.

And it was all thanks to Vision.

“It seemed to me, Miss Maximoff. That if one is going to reside in a place for a continuous amount of time, that you should be comfortable doing so. I appreciate that this might not all be to your taste, but my research showed that these are all of the latest trends,” he explains.

This time, Wanda has tears in her eyes which is something that brings him alarm. Had he done the wrong thing? Was it too much? Did she really hate it? His systems weren’t telling him that at all.

“I apologise if I have overstepped -“ he begins, but before he can continue, Wanda is shaking her head and … embracing him tightly.

The first show of her own emotions. Her true emotions. This was truly Wanda Maximoff.

“It’s perfect, Vis,” she tells him, her words laced with emotion.

His face relaxes into a smile when she speaks, and he dares to wrap his arms around her, just a little tighter than she has with him.