⋆ 𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒.

The fluorescent lights of the school auditorium didn’t bother you. You’d gotten used to the hum of fluorescent bulbs and the faint smell of disinfectant that seemed permanently attached to every elementary school hallway. Today, however, the usual bustle of PTA paperwork and parent introductions felt… different.

Because today, Wanda Maximoff was here.

You didn’t know much about the mother of your students—Billy and Tommy Maximoff—but there was something quietly commanding about her presence, even as she stood near the back of the room, scanning the crowd. The PTA had gone through a lot of parents, but Wanda didn’t blend in like most of them. Her hair fell perfectly in place, and there was a calm, almost ethereal grace in the way she held herself.

You found yourself smiling before you even realized it.

“Fourth-grade advisor, right?” a familiar voice pulled you back. It was Mr. Hargrove, the school counselor, giving you the usual pep talk before introductions. “You’ll handle the twins’ mother. Good luck—it’s Wanda Maximoff. She’s… intense.”

You blinked, stifling a laugh. “Intense?”

When your turn came, you strode confidently toward the auburn haired woman, clipboard in hand.

“Mrs. Maximoff?” you asked, giving her your brightest smile. “I’m your fourth-grade advisor for Billy and Tommy. It’s great to meet you!”

Wanda’s lips twitched into a small, polite smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes at first. You noticed that—and, somehow, you didn’t mind.

“I’ve heard about you,” she said softly, her voice smooth and measured. “My sons really enjoy your class, from what I understand.”

Your heart did a little hop. “That’s sweet! They’re wonderful kids—they keep me on my toes, honestly.”

Wanda’s eyes softened as she looked at her sons, nodding. “I can imagine. They’re full of energy.”

You could feel the conversation lingering in the air, neither of you wanting to break the subtle tension that seemed to form instantly. She was clearly reserved, but there was warmth behind those guarded eyes, a softness that made you want to know her better. And you had a feeling she felt the same.

Over the coming weeks, the twins’ activities brought you into the Sokovian's orbit more often than not. She started showing up for school events, her presence quietly commanding the room, but every time your paths crossed, there was a spark—small, almost hesitant at first, but undeniable.

And slowly, gently, the grumpy elegance of Wanda Maximoff began to soften around you.

You didn’t just admire her from afar: you laughed at the way she tried to negotiate Tommy’s insistence on “extra recess” or Billy’s endless questions about… well, everything. You found yourself looking forward to her visits, even scheduling little moments to run into her in the school hallway just to see that faint, rare smile that seemed reserved for you.

You were nestled under the sheets, the soft rhythm of Wanda’s breathing beside you being the only sound filling the room— although, she’d been awake for a while, watching you sleep, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on your back as she thought about last night.

You and Wanda had been together for about two years now. You knew each other inside out, your love evolving over time.

But recently, Wanda had picked up on something — something subtle, something you had never openly confessed, but which she had learned from your casual conversations with your closest friends.

The night before, when you were with one of your best friends, you’d mentioned, half in jest, half in seriousness, that you loved the idea of waking up spooned by Wanda’s arms as she fucked you, especially when she was the one to take the lead, bringing you close in that way, with her confidence, her love and the strap.

You’d spoken in passing about how much you loved the thought of her taking control from behind, the thought of her holding you, guiding both of you close and vulnerable, the connection so deep and undeniable.

The Sokovian couldn’t help but smile at your words. She had heard them clearly, and though you hadn’t known it, she’d been listening.

Now, she was lying next to you, her mind whirring with excitement. She knew exactly how she wanted to wake you up.

Wanda was always in control—of the room, of the company, of herself. But with you, she was softer, kinder. Yet that didn’t mean she couldn’t be playful, teasing in her own way, and you were her most cherished weakness.

You two had obviously spoken about being awakened with sex to one another beforehand, so there surely was no issue on your hand. You had never experienced it, as you told your best friend, and just the thought of it made you hot and pleasingly bothered.

She kissed the back of your neck gently, her breath warm against your skin as she moved up to kiss the side of your neck, up to your jaw cheek then your ear. “Good morning, love.”

You hummed in response, barely awake, and shifted against her, your body instinctively pressing closer.

Wanda smiled to herself. She knew exactly what you liked. She’d always been in tune with you, anticipating your every need. But today, she wanted to give you more than just a morning kiss. She wanted to show you just how deeply she cared.

Her hand slid down to your waist, fingertips brushing your skin lightly. She could feel the warmth of your body against hers, the closeness making her heart beat just a little faster.

The strap was already secured around her hips. You weren't awake yet, and that was perfect—just what she wanted.

“Let me love you, darling,” she whispered softly, voice low and full of affection, as if you could hear her already.

Her fingers slipped past the hem of your pyjamas pants then past your panties, landing directly on your heat. She started rubbing your clit slowly, sweetly, her mouth busy kissing all over your neck.

Your face twisted in a frown she could barely see. You were in that half-dazed and half-awakened stage.

Just a few more minutes, she thought to herself.

After a few rubs, you were dripping already. Wanda observed as you shivered slightly, letting out a gasp like sound and it was so soft, so low that if she wasn't focused on you she would have missed it.

Your cunt was so wet that two of her fingers slipped inside you easily.

Ymoaned quietly, half-awake, a lazy smile on your face. “Wanda…”

She didn’t wait for you to finish your sentence. Slowly, deliberately, Wanda pulled you closer, her strong arms wrapping around you. She guided you so that your back was flush against her chest, the way you liked it. She could feel your breath catch when you recognized what she was doing.

She was taking control. But in the gentlest way, as always. She wanted you to feel loved, desired, cherished — and in that moment, she knew exactly how to make you feel it.

Her fingers glided in and out as you rocked you guided your hips to match her movements. You were surely awake now, she could tell by the heavy breaths leaving your lips.

With one hand on your waist, she used the other to tilt your head back just enough so she could press her lips to the other side of your neck. She kissed it slowly, savoring every inch of your skin, making sure you felt every second of her love.

Your fingers found their way to her hair as you moaned once more, the sound going straight to your wife's core.

“You little whore,” The sokovian chuckled after parting her lips from your skin. “You couldn't even wait until I got that damn strap inside you, huh? Way too impatient.”

Her fingers were moving at a swift pace now and she once again didn't give you the time to asnwer her first, as she added another finger—stretching you out and nice for her strap.

“What...” You gasped, clear and loud this time. “The s-strap? What— what do you mean "the strap"?”

She chuckled again. You were playing coy or rather, you were starting to understand where she was coming from.

“I heard you, love,” She said, her nose nuzzling against yours with her eyes still on yours. And of course, she didn't stop fingering you.

God, she was good at multitasking.

“Heard you tell Melissa how you'd like to wake up like this, in my arms, moaning, as I fucked you real nice with my cock." She continued, her mouth back at kissing all over your jaw while your breathing was sharpening due to your orgasm approaching.

You moaned again, fingers grabbing ahold of the sheets already.

“Wands! It's rude to sneak up on people,” You scolded, though your voice was far far from being harsh and your skin was starting to burn up from the fact that your doubts were confirmed. “You know that.”

She had indeed heard you and now she was doing what you wanted from her.

She was now biting lovingly at your skin, her tongue swiping on it afterwards as a soothing blame. Those bites who'd turn into hickeys later on.

“Oh please, don't act as if you weren't hoping for this.” she slowed her pace to stop you from comming just yet.

“You're mean.”

She was kissing up to your jaw as you said that sentence, then she raised her head to look at you. Her eyes were half hooded, lips sightly swollen with the corner of her lips raised as a teasing smile.

“Oh am I, now?” she asked and you nodded, biting down on your lower lip to stop yourself from grinning.

“Can I make it better, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

And that was all she needed.

She kissed your lips for the first time since this morning and you couldn't help but moan. You oh so loved her lips and especially when they were on yours.

“I love waking up next to you,” Wanda murmured against your neck, the warmth of her words sending a shiver through your body. “I love holding you like this. Let me make it special, baby.”

She slipped her fingers glistening fingers out of your cunt and slipped them inside her mouth while looking at you.

Your lips parted as she did that, your eyes flicking between her green ones and her mouth. You swallowed as she licked her fingers clean from your wetness, you felt your thighs pressing together.

“Wanda.. ”

“I know, baby, I know.”

She lowered her head, meeting her lips with your own again, kissing you slowly, deeply, letting you taste yourself on her lips if time stood still for just a moment.

You were so concentrated on her lips that you barely felt her hand moving down to take ahold of the strap. Only feeling her mouvements when she started nudging the tip at your entrance.

You moaned in her mouth as she guided the fabric inside your cunt.

“Shh, baby, I'm gonna take care of you now, just how you wanted.”

She turned your head back to how it previously was and let her hand that was at your waist go up your top to cup your breast in her palm.

“Can I move now?”

You hummed softly, “Yes, please.”

“Always so polite, my darling wife.” She chuckled against your ear, the strap entering your cunt.

You could feel the difference — how much more aware she was of your needs, your desires. She wasn’t just playing anymore; she was fulfilling your unspoken wishes.

You gasped softly as she continued to hold you and fuck you close, her hands and movements becoming more confident, more certain. She had heard you last night — and now she was ready to show you exactly how she felt.

In her arms, you felt safe, wanted. But most of all, you felt seen. And that was all you needed — all you’d ever need.

“Come for me, love,” She said gently, as you moaned from the pleasure she gave you. The strap was buried deep inside of you as you skin slapped against hers over and over again. Her lips on your skin, where your should and neck meets while her hands were playing with your breasts. Your right hand had found the back of her neck in between all of this, while the left was gripping the pillow so tight that your knuckles were turning white. But you couldn't care. Not now. Not while she was fucking you so good like this. “I need to see you come for me. Don't deny me that.”

After a few more moans from you and encouragements from her, you finally hit the bottom and came—gasping in relief.

“You did so well, baby, so so well for me.” she'd said.

. . . .

Afterwards, when you were both tangled in the sheets, she kissed your forehead gently, whispering against your skin, “You are everything to me. Always.”

You snuggled against her, your heart full. “I love you,” you murmured.

“I love you more,” Wanda replied softly, her fingers gently running through your hair. “Now… go back to sleep, love. You deserve all of it.”

Well, it was very much was elsewhere. Or rather, on someone else.

You had been on her mind all day : The way you spoke to her. The way your voice had dropped to a low murmur when you mentioned how much you craved her earlier this morning while dropping some files for her and God, that pencil skirt you had put on today was doing things to her.

The Sokovian's phone buzzed from the corner of her desk, hidden from view by the mountain of paperwork and reports. She glanced at the screen. It was from you, sitting just accross from her.

“Hey, babe. Thinking of you.” You texted, adding a pouty face emoji following the text.

She fought the smile that tugged at her lips, glancing around the room to make sure no one but you was paying attention to her. Her thumb hovered over the phone as her heart raced.

“Focus on the meeting, darling. I don’t want to be caught distracted.”

It wasn’t a no, though.

A few seconds passed, and then— “You sure? You’re not the only one distracted over here.”

Wanda's eyes narrowed. She could feel the tension building, that heat rising from her core. She looked up, just in time to see a small smirk tug at the corner of your lips; of course you'd enjoy this.

Wanda; “Stop it. I’m working.”

She couldn’t help herself. A small smirk formed as she set the phone back down on the desk, trying to regain her composure. But then, just as she thought she had it under control, another message came through.

You: “What if I told you I was wearing something for you? Something you’d love to see come off...”

Her breath hitched.

Your gorgeous leaned back in her chair, her legs crossed tightly under the desk to hide the sudden rush of heat between her thighs.

Wanda: “You’re playing a dangerous game, love. You know I can’t respond to this right now.”

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, tempted. Tempted to reply. To let go. To indulge in this moment, even if it was just over text.

You: “Maybe I want you to let go, Wanda. Maybe I want to make you forget about your meeting...”

Wanda inhaled sharply, closing her eyes for a moment, imagining your lips so close to her ear, whispering those exact words. The tension in her body grew tighter, but she didn’t give in just yet. It took so much self restraint on her end to not dismiss everyone and-

Wanda: “If I let go, you won’t know what to do with me.”

A few moments passed. She could feel her pulse quicken as she waited for your response. She could hear the sound of her own breath in the silence of the office.

And then, it came,

You: “I think you’d be surprised by what I can do, sweetheart. I’ll make you scream my name, just how you like. You’d forget about everything else but me.”

Damn you, you were such a tease. That winking emoji you sent afterwards, as if to mock her and she 'tsk-ed', not loud enough for her employees to hear.

And even so, she could be as loud as she wanted they wouldn't do a damn thing about it.

Wanda exhaled sharply, biting her lip, her gaze flicking to the door. Was it locked? Was anyone outside too? No. But it didn’t matter.

Wanda: “You’re trying to break me, aren’t you?”

She couldn’t hold back the wicked smile that crept across her face. She was CEO Wanda Maximoff, powerful and in control of everything. But when it came to you… you had her wrapped around your finger.

The phone buzzed again.

You: “I’m not trying to break you, baby. I just want you to remember who you belong to...”

Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. There was no going back now.

Wanda: “I’ll remind you later how much I belong to you. But for now, we’ll keep it professional. Just remember, I will make you pay for this later.”

A final text popped up before she could even finish her thought.

You: “I’ll be waiting, Wanda. And I’m going to make sure you don’t forget this... ever.”

Wanda let out a soft, frustrated laugh, trying to mask her growing desire. She locked her phone, placing it back on her desk.

But it wasn’t over.

It never was with you.

And by the time the meeting wrapped up, the only thing on her mind was getting home with you. She could already imagine the way you’d tease her. The way your body would feel pressed against hers. The way you’d take control — just like you always did.

She’d been distracted. But now?

" 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐗 » natasha romanoff " par shenshoutings sur Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/387011636?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=shenshoutings

But Natasha Romanoff never cared about your rules.

She cared about making you squirm.

It started with the seat in class, then the coffee "accidentally" delivered to your table. Then the hand on your thigh during a late-night study group, slipping under the hem of your skirt like it belonged there.

"Distracted?" she whispered once, her voice low, sultry, while your professor scribbled on the board. Her fingers tapped innocently against your notebook, just beside your thigh. "You've been fidgety all class. Or is it just me?"

You didn't look at her. If you did, you'd melt.

But she knew. She always knew.

Library. 11:37 PM.

You were alone in a corner, lights dimmed, final papers looming. You'd meant to be productive and then she showed up : hair messy, eyes focused only on you.

"You didn't answer my text," she said, dropping into the seat beside you.

You didn't even look up. "You sent 'wyd' at midnight. I'm not one of your drunk hookups, Romanoff."

"God," she groaned, leaning in, breath hot on your neck. "That mouth, always so smart. You know what it does to me?"

You turned slowly. "You really think I'm just gonna fall into your bed like the rest of them?"

Natasha's smirk dropped a little.

"No," she said. "I think you'll make me work for it. And I like that."

Then she leaned closer, "But I also think you're soaking through those cute little panties right now."

Your breath caught.

"Say I'm wrong," she added, voice dark. "Look me in the eye and say I don't get you wet just by being here."

You couldn't. Because she was right.

Dorm, later that night, she pressed you up against the back of your door the moment it shut. Her hands were everywhere — your waist, your jaw, your thighs. Her lips tasted like cherry vodka and something unspoken.

You tugged her tank off, and she grinned against your mouth. "I knew you wanted this."

"Shut up," you whispered, gasping as her knee slotted between your legs, the pressure making your head spin.

"You shut me up," she challenged.

And you did.

It was heat. Tongues. Teasing. Fingernails down her back. Her mouth between your legs. Whispered filth between gasps.

Natasha was experienced — too experienced — but with you, she slowed down. Kissed with intention. Touched like she wanted to memorize every shiver.

After, you lay tangled in her sheets, flushed and breathless.

She lit a cigarette, lips parted.

"You're not like the others," she muttered finally.

You glanced at her. "No shit."

She laughed quietly. "If I let you in... you're not gonna leave, right?"

You turned to face her.

By the time you left the office, the sky had turned a heavy shade of gray, clouds swollen with the promise of more. You didn’t mind. Your shift was over, and you were heading home to Wanda — to warmth, quiet, and her soothing presence after a long day.

Wanda had called you a few times throughout the day, her voice always calm but full of that tender, protective tone she had whenever you were away from her. You’d promised you’d be home soon, but that had been an hour ago, and you were now stuck in the worst traffic of the day, the storm slowing everything down.

You didn’t think anything of it. It was just a regular drive. A little frustrating, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

Yet, it happened so fast.

One moment, you were waiting in the gridlock, the rain beating against your windshield, and the next, a car behind you slammed into yours with a force that made your body jerk forward.

Everything went black.

. . .

Wanda had been sitting at her desk, distracted by a call from a potential investor, when her phone vibrated again. It was from your phone number, but the message that followed wasn’t from you.

A hospital emergency room number flashed on the screen.

Her breath caught in her chest.

Before the ringing could finish, she answered.

“Hello?” she asked, her voice betraying the panic building inside her.

“Ma’am,” a calm voice said on the other end. “This is St. Mary’s Hospital..”

The world tilted as Wanda listened to the person tell her that you had an accident.

“Is she—” Wanda’s voice was shaky, like she couldn’t form the words fast enough. “Is she okay?”

“We’re doing everything we can, ma’am. But we need you to get here as quickly as possible.”

The line went silent for a moment. All Wanda could hear was the sound of her own breathing, ragged and uneven, her heart racing like it was trying to escape her chest.

“Ma'am?” the voice said again. “Are you still there?”

“I’m coming. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Wanda forced out, her hand shaking as she ended the call. Her world was spinning. Her entire body was trembling as her mind went into overdrive. Not you. Please not you.

. . .

By the time Wanda arrived at the hospital, her heels were slamming against the floor in quick, frantic steps. She barely noticed the people in her path, her vision tunnel-visioned on the elevator doors that would take her to you.

When the elevator doors opened, she bolted out, looking desperately for the nearest nurse, her voice breaking with every word.

A nurse pointed down the hall. “Room 304.”

Wanda didn’t even say thank you as she hurried to the door. When she opened it, she froze.

You were unconscious in the hospital bed, a multitude of machines attached to you, the rhythmic beeping of your heart monitor all that filled the space. Your head was bandaged, and your neck was in a brace. You looked so small, so fragile. So far away.

A wave of nausea hit Wanda, and her knees nearly buckled beneath her.

You were alive. But barely.

She rushed to your side, her hand trembling as she took yours in hers.

Wanda whispered your name, her voice trembling.

Her tears hit your hand, and she squeezed your fingers tightly, as if she could will you awake with her touch.

. . .

When you finally woke, everything felt wrong. Your head was pounding, and the familiar warmth of Wanda beside you didn’t seem to calm the confusion swirling inside your brain.

The room was white, too bright, and it smelled sterile. The soft beep of machines and the muffled voices outside the door only made the pressure in your chest heavier.

“Wanda?” you whispered, barely able to move.

Her head snapped to you, eyes wide and red-rimmed, but she smiled the moment she saw you were awake. “Oh, thank God. You’re awake. I thought… I thought I was going to lose you.”

You blinked slowly, trying to piece things together.

“What happened?” you whispered.

“You were in an accident,” Wanda explained softly, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “You were hit by another car, and you blacked out. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for hours.”

Your heart started to race, panic seeping in as you realized the gravity of the situation.

“I’m okay, right?” you asked weakly, voice hoarse. “I’m still… I’m still here?”

Wanda nodded, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re here. You’re okay. You’re alive, baby. You have no idea how scared I was.” She gently cupped your cheek, eyes glossy. “Please don’t scare me like that again.”

Your fingers tightened around hers, and you could feel her warmth, her need for reassurance. You’d almost left her. And she wasn’t sure she could have lived with that.

. . .

In the days following the accident, Wanda was a constant presence at your side. No matter how busy she was at work, she made sure someone covered for her, leaving the office to care for you.

She fed you soup from the spoon, like she was afraid you’d break if she didn’t handle you with the utmost care. She curled up beside you in bed at night, arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you as if you were her most prized possession.

The fear of nearly losing you never left her — even when you were slowly recovering.

One night, while you rested, she sat at the edge of the bed, fingers tracing the bandage on your head.

“You’re my everything,” Wanda whispered, barely above a breath. “I would never survive without you.”

You opened your eyes, just enough to meet her gaze. And in that moment, there was only love. No more fear. Just tenderness.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised softly.

Wifey!Nat who is the definition of a protective spouse—her love language is knowing where you are, who you’re with, and that you’re safe. She doesn’t hover, but she’s always aware—or more likely loves to always be aware of everything revolving around you.

Wifey!Nat who isn't super traditional, but she does wear her wedding ring at all times. She’ll take it off on missions and slip it on a chain under her suit.

She absolutely adores waking up next to you. Morning Wifey!Nat is soft, clingy, and kisses your shoulder before she gets out of bed to make coffee for both of you.

You have a drawer in the kitchen specifically for knives because she keeps buying them with the reason of “can't never have too many.”

Wifey!Nat who is surprisingly domestic. She might not be an amazing cook but she finds peace in cleaning or folding laundry after intense missions. (post resting under your obligation, of course).

Wifey!Nat who hates grocery shopping but will come along if you ask—she pushes the cart while you pick things out, occasionally sneaking snacks into it for you.

Wifey!Nat who insists you know some self-defense, even if she’s never planning on letting you be in danger. She teaches you how to disappear in a crowd and how to spot a tail—“Just in case, printsessa.”

You’ve had multiple SHIELD/Avengers agents secretly assigned to keep an eye on you when she is away.

Wifey!Nat who always gets the best security in your shared home. Think panic buttons, reinforced locks, and facial recognition tech.

Wifey!Nat who has a sixth sense about people. If she doesn’t like someone in your life, she’s almost always right.

She’s not super flashy with PDA, but she’s incredibly intense in private. She loves slow dancing with you in the kitchen at night.

Wifey!Nat who loves kissing you softly when she first comes home from a mission, then holding you like she’s never letting go.

Wifey!Nat remembers every single anniversary, important date, and your favorite things. She’ll buy you flowers or little trinkets from other countries she visits.

Wifey!Nat who only calls you by sweet pet names like “moya lyubov” (my love) or “zvezdochka” (little star) in Russian. It's only ever your name when you're either arguing, or just you being a brat.

"tell me the truth, y/n. don't play with me."

Wifey!Nat has a soft spot for cuddling. She’ll sprawl across you like a cat, insisting she’s “just resting for five minutes” but actually falling asleep.

Wifey!Nat who becomes terrifyingly efficient when it comes to your safety. No one lays a hand on you without facing heavy consequences.

If she ever finds out you were scared or threatened, she’ll hold you close and whisper, “I’ve got you. Always.”

She’d burn the world down if someone hurt you.

Wifey!Nat who steals your clothes. She’s always lounging in your hoodies and claims they smell like “home.”

Movie nights mean she falls asleep halfway through but won’t admit it.

She’s the kind of wife who will assemble IKEA furniture at 2 a.m. and curse in Russian the whole time.

Wifey!Nat who also loves to tease you endlessly but gets defensive if anyone else tries.

Being with you gives Wifey!Nat the sense of family she’s always craved. You’re her safe place, her anchor.

She gets emotional about your wedding day because she never thought she’d ever get that kind of happiness.

Wanda Maximoff had prepared for this like it was a shareholder meeting. Her calendar was cleared, her office was spotless, her assistant had been warned that nothing was to go wrong.

Because today was Take Your Child to Work Day — and Wanda was determined to be impressive.

Your daughter, Maya, sat between you at the breakfast table, swinging her legs as she ate cereal.

“Mama works in a biiiiig building,” she announced seriously. “With lots of important things.”

Wanda smiled proudly. “That’s right, sweet girl. Mama runs the company.”

Maya nodded, clearly impressed. Then she looked at you.

“Do you have snacks?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Then I’m ready.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

. . .

The moment the elevator doors opened, Wanda knelt beside Maya.

“Alright,” she said gently. “I’m going to show you my office. It’s where I make very important decisions.”

Maya walked in slowly, eyes wide.

Wanda waited. She anticipated awe, maybe dmiration. Or even a tiny gasp of wonder.

Instead—

“WOW,” Maya breathed.

Wanda straightened, pleased. “Yes?”

Maya pointed, ecstatic.

“The blinds go up AND down??”

“…They do.”

Maya ran to the window, pressing the button repeatedly. “They’re magic!”

You laughed openly now.

Wanda leaned over to you, whispering, “It’s fine. She’s just warming up.”

. . .

Wanda guided Maya toward her desk.

“And this,” she said, gesturing grandly, “is Mama’s chair.”

Maya climbed up carefully.

She spun once, then again. Her eyes lit up like she’d discovered fire.

“IT TURNS.”

Wanda smiled tightly. “Yes, but Mama uses it to—”

Maya leaned back and spun faster.

“I WANT ONE, MAMA.”

“You’re five,” Wanda said weakly.

“NOOOO. I’M ALMOST SIX.”

You wiped tears of laughter from your eyes.

The Sokovian tried again.

“Would you like to see how Mama makes her coffee?”

Maya nodded politely.

The machine whirred, steam hissed and Maya gasped. “It’s LOUD.” She watched the cup fill like it was a sacred ritual.

“That’s so cool,” she whispered. “Does it make hot chocolate?”

Wanda paused. “…No.”

Maya’s interest died instantly and she murmured in disappointment, “Oh.”

But before Wanda could even say another word, Maya distracted herself again. The stapler. She picked it up, pressed it and it cliked

Her mouth fell open.

“THIS THING EATS PAPER.”

Wanda closed her eyes.

You bent down beside your daughter. “Careful, sweetheart.”

“Mama,” Maya said seriously, holding the stapler up. “This is the best thing here.”

Wanda looked personally betrayed for some reasons.

As if that weren’t enough, Maya wandered out into the common area — where another child sat on the floor with blocks. A worker’s kid about the same age.

They looked at each other : instant friendship.

Within seconds, they were building a tower together, whispering conspiratorially.

Wanda watched from her office doorway, arms crossed.

“She hasn’t smiled at my desk like that,” she muttered.

You leaned against her. “You’re being replaced.”

Wanda sighed. “By a child with blocks.”

Maya waved. “Mama! Look! We made a castle!”

Wanda forced a smile.

“Can we take the stapler home?”

“No,” Wanda and you said in unison.

. . .

Back at home, Maya curled up on the couch between you, exhausted.

“So,” you asked softly, “what was your favorite part of Mama’s office?”

“The blinds,” she said. “And the spinny chair. And the paper eater.”

Wanda laughed at last — quiet, genuine.

“Well,” she said, kissing Maya’s hair, “Mama will try harder next year.”

Maya smiled sleepily. “Mama doesn’t need to be impressive. I already know she’s so cool.”

Wanda’s chest tightened.

Later, when Maya was asleep, Wanda pulled you into a hug in the kitchen. “I run a multinational company,” she murmured. “And lost to a stapler.”

You kissed her cheek. “You also won at being her favorite person.”

She smiled softly. “That one matters more.”