#wanda fluff

She was in her office when you entered—hair tied back, red sweater sleeves pushed up, eyes fixed on the screen. You didn’t say a word. Just set the folder down in front of her.

She glances briefly at the file only briefly, "What's this? Im kind of busy. Can it wait-?"

"Just read it."

She hesitated, then flipped open the folder. Pages and charts and highlights stared back at her. She skimmed the first few, brows furrowing, before glancing up.

“Okay… these are company reports. So?”

You stepped closer, circling around the desk to stand beside her. The smell of her perfume hit you—familiar, grounding, almost enough to undo you right there. You leaned in, finger dragging over the pages, flipping them as you explain everything to her.

After explaining, she removes her glasses, looking up at you. "Yes, I am aware of this, I have meetings just to go over this kind of information."

You swallowed hard, your hand resting on the corner of her desk.

"Everything's better," you said softly. "your numbers, your clients, your sales. You're doing well, Wanda. So whatever you've been doing lately, it's really working for you."

Your voice cracked on you. Wanda finally turned to you, expression softening as she caught the tremor in your hands, the way your thumb rubbed at the small pendant hanging around your neck, the one she'd given on your first anniversary.

"Sweetheart," she murmured, rising slowly. "Is something on your mind?"

You hate how the room blurs so quick.

“I just… I realized you’re doing better without me,” you whispered. “That everything got better when you stopped… being with me."

Your words broke halfway through. The tears you’d been holding back spilled freely now, your shoulders shaking as you tried to cover your face.

Wanda’s chair scraped back, and before you could move away, her hands were on yours—warm, grounding.

“Hey, hey,” she said softly, stepping closer. “Is that what this is all about?”

You nodded, eyes squeezed shut, unable to meet her gaze.

Wanda exhaled, slow and heavy. Then she pulled you against her chest, her chin resting atop your head. You could feel her heartbeat against your ear, steady and familiar.

“You think I’m working hard because I want to get away from you?” she whispered. “Oh, detka…”

Her tone cracked then, gentle but aching. She pulled back just enough to cup your cheek, brushing away the tears with her thumb.

“I should’ve told you sooner.”

Taking your hand, she led you to her desk. She opened the bottom drawer—the one she always kept locked. Inside were three small velvet boxes, neatly lined up.

You blinked. She picked one up, opening it slowly to reveal a delicate ring—platinum, simple, beautiful. Then she opened the next: a gold one with small red stones. The third, silver with a twisting band that looked handmade.

“I’ve been saving,” she said quietly. “Every late night, every client call, every weekend I didn’t spend with you—it’s all been for this. I’ve been trying to find the perfect ring for you. But I couldn’t decide. I bought one, then another, then another, second-guessing what you’d truly love. I was going to surprise you.”

Your lips trembled.

“You… you were planning to propose?”

Wanda smiled softly, eyes glassy.

“I am planning to propose."

She slipped one of the rings from its box and held it out—not to place on your finger just yet, but to show you, to share the moment. Her other hand rose to cup your face again, pulling you into her.

The kiss that followed wasn’t desperate or rushed—it was slow, trembling, real. The kind that tasted of apology and promise.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were smiling through the remnants of tears.

“You really thought I’d ever do better without you?” Wanda whispered against your temple. "The only reason why I've been cooped up in this god forsaken hell is because of you. You've motivated me, pushed me to work so hard to afford something forever with you. The last thing on my mind is leaving you, and I am so deeply sorry that it's ever reached a moment you've had to think that."

Your breath hitched, her words sinking in so fast it almost hurt. The tension that had been strangling your chest began to crumble, leaving you standing there with shaking hands and glassy eyes.

Her thumb brushed another tear from your cheek before she pressed a soft kiss to the spot it had been. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet her gaze just yet—you were too afraid you’d fall apart completely if you did.

“Wanda…” you breathed, voice barely there.

She hummed in response, arms tightening around your waist as if she could hold the guilt right out of you.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” she murmured. “About the late nights, the meetings, all of it. I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted it to be perfect.”

You finally looked up at her, eyes flicking between hers, searching for the truth you’d missed this whole time. She smiled faintly through the exhaustion, then reached past you toward the drawer she’d left open earlier.

From inside, she pulled out the small velvet boxes again, this time opening one to reveal a simple, elegant band—your style to the last detail.

“I kept changing my mind,” she said softly. “Every design felt wrong. Too plain, too much, too little… nothing felt like you. So I kept working. Kept saving. Until I could get it right.”

You stared at it, chest aching, heart twisting in every direction at once.

“You’ve been doing all of this… for us,” you said quietly, guilt heavy in your throat.

“For you,” she corrected, cupping your jaw. “For the life I want with you.”

That broke whatever composure you had left. You let out a small, uneven sob, and she pulled you against her again—warm, solid, and real. The kind of hug that said you’re safe now.

Her lips brushed the top of your head.

“You’re my reason, detka. Not my distraction.”

A scuff of a boot. Just that, and Natasha’s eyes opened.

Years of light sleep—of learning to wake before danger fully arrived—pulled her upright in an instant. The curse she spits is sharp, immediate, slicing through the night and dragging Wanda fully awake beside her.

Wanda reacts on instinct, already reaching for the pistol she keeps within arm’s reach. The moment her eyes lock onto the scene, she’s moving—no hesitation, no questions. Metal flashes as she raises the weapon.

Natasha is already there first. She moves like something sharpened by habit and necessity, throwing herself into the chaos between firelight and shadow. One of the attackers jerks you back harder against him, but Natasha’s fist connects with his face before he can adjust. Clean, brutal, efficient. He stumbles back with a sharp, pained sound.

Wanda fires. The crack splits the air, bright and sudden, forcing another of them to duck back into the dark. The moon light flickers wildly, throwing everything into fractured motion. Shadows running, bodies shifting, the night suddenly too small for all the violence inside it.

You’re still caught, dragged against him as he tightens his hold again, breath hot and close at your ear. You squirm, panic surging, fighting for any leverage, any opening—

He smiles. It’s brief, cruel, almost amused, like this is entertainment more than risk. That expression alone is worse than the grip.

Then his hand moves. Something arcs through the air—small, dark, unmistakable. Natasha sees it first.

“Down!” she snaps, voice cutting through everything, moving towards Wanda.

The dynamite hits the ground near the fire with a dull, final thud.

For a split second, everything holds. Like the world itself is deciding what comes next. And then you scream.

The explosion doesn’t feel like sound so much as impact. Heat, pressure, dirt and smoke all tearing outward at once, swallowing the firelight whole. The ground shakes beneath them hard enough to knock loose ash and embers, the night going white-hot and then suddenly blind.

When it clears, there’s only ringing silence. Natasha is already moving through it, coughing once as she waves smoke from her face, eyes locked on the space where you were.

The fire is half-collapsed, embers scattered and dying. The trees beyond it stand untouched but eerily still, smoke curling around their trunks like the aftermath of something that shouldn’t have happened at all.

Where you and the group had been, there’s nothing. No bodies. No struggle. No dragged marks through the dirt. Not even footprints that hold. Just empty ground, as if the night swallowed everything whole and left no proof it ever existed.

Natasha slows to a stop at the edge of it, scanning again, sharper this time, like repetition alone might change what she’s seeing. Her jaw tightens, something breaking behind her eyes before she forces it back into place. She kicks at the scorched earth once, hard, like she can physically force answers out of it.

“Fuck,” she says, low and sharp, more breath than voice.

Wanda lowers her hand slowly, the smoking fading from her pistol. For a moment she just stands there, staring at the empty space where everything just was.

“That doesn’t make sense,” she says quietly, more to herself than to Natasha. Her voice is steadier than her posture, but only just.

Natasha doesn’t respond right away. She’s still looking at the ground, scanning for anything—anything at all that would explain how something that loud, that violent, could end in nothing.

Wanda finally exhales, slow and uneven, and lets her arms fall fully to her sides. Her fingers curl once, then relax, like she’s trying to decide whether there’s still something left to fight or if the fight just disappeared with you.

And all that remains is the whistle of the wind and the unbearable absence where you should be.

You’re worn down in a way sleep doesn’t touch anymore.

Five sunrises have passed since the night it all went wrong. Since firelight turned to smoke and noise and then nothing at all. Since you were dragged off into the dark and the world behind you stopped making sense.

They’ve kept you tied most of that time. A post in shifting camps. A rope around your wrists that’s been tightened just enough to not give you comfort. Dust in your mouth, sun on your back, cold biting in when the night drops again.

You spend your hours staring out past whatever makeshift camp they’ve settled in, eyes fixed on the horizon like looking hard enough might pull something back into it. Like distance alone could turn into direction.

You push your luck because there isn’t much else left to do with it.

Spit at their boots when they come too close. Watch them like you’re trying to carve their faces into memory and spite at the same time. It earns you attention, just not the kind you want. You know you'll get a chastise whenever the two of them come to find you. You and your mouth always running you into the ground.

A backhand snaps your head to the side one time. A boot catches your ribs another. Nothing theatrical. Nothing cruel in a loud way. Just efficient corrections, like you’re something that needs adjusting rather than breaking.

They need you alive, apparently trying to get the bounty that's been on you since forever as you can remember. You thought those wanted posters have fallen off after all these years, but guess these guys found one dirt-ridden on the ground.

"Fucking bitch," they'd say, treating you like dirt under their boots.

But none of it compares to the restraint.

The rope burns at your wrists have started to settle into something dull and constant. Not sharp pain anymore, just presence. A reminder that you can’t move the way you want to, can’t stand when you want to stand, can’t leave when every part of you wants to.

And underneath all of it, worse than the bruises or the dust or the hunger, is the absence you can’t shake. Not just fear. Not just anger.

Them.

The two of them, out there somewhere in a world that feels too large and too empty without them in it. The thought of them not knowing where you are sits heavier than the rope ever could. It presses into everything, into every moment you’re forced to sit still and breathe and wait.

You don’t stop looking. Even when it hurts. Even when it feels useless. Because stopping would mean accepting something you’re not ready to name yet. You know they'll find you.

As similar to the night you had been taken, the fire has long since burned down to coals that barely hold their own heat. The camp is quiet in that uneasy way. Bodies scattered in sleep, guards slouched where they shouldn’t be, a lapse of judgment everyone will pay for if the night decides to turn.

A shimmer in the distance, wrong against the dark. Not stars, not firelight. Something deliberate. A glimmer that moves when it shouldn’t.

Hope comes slow at first, because hope is dangerous when you’ve been wrong before. Then it moves again.

Shapes begin to form out of the dark as they close in. Low, careful, practiced. Two figures slipping through shadow like they belong to it. You don’t call out. You don’t breathe too loudly. You just watch, heart tightening in a way that feels almost like pain before recognition catches up.

Natasha first. Then Wanda.

No hesitation in how they move. No wasted steps. They pass through the outer edge of the camp without disturbing much more than dust and sleeping air, closing the distance.

Then it turns fast. Natasha reaches the man that had hold you that night. Standing over his sleeping body—knife already in her hand, already rising toward his throat with clean intent. There’s no warning in her movement, no announcement. Just execution.

But he’s not asleep. His arm shoots up at the last second, catching her mid-motion and slamming her hard into the ground. The impact sends dust up around them in a sharp burst, and for a moment everything breaks into chaos—shouting, shifting bodies, sleep turning instantly into violence.

Natasha doesn’t stay down. Wanda is already moving toward you, cutting through the confusion with purpose. She reaches you just as someone else lunges from the side, hands stretching for your arm.

The binding snaps, and Wanda shoots a curt, “get moving.”

Your hands come free just as another figure stumbles into range. You shove yourself sideways, barely avoiding their grip, boots skidding through loose dirt as you catch yourself in a half-fall. Your lungs burn, heart hammering so hard it feels like it might split your ribs open.

Behind you, Wanda doesn’t hesitate.

She grabs the woman coming at her by the collar and drives her down hard into the ground with a brutal, efficient motion. The impact kicks up dust and a sharp, pained sound that’s swallowed almost immediately by the chaos around them.

You push yourself upright, dragging in a breath that doesn’t feel like enough air. Wanda is already turning back to you, eyes sharp, hair coming loose from the strain of it all. There’s dirt on her cheek, her hand still clenched from the hit she just landed, but her focus is entirely on you now.

“God, just go!!” she snaps, voice cutting through the noise like it’s the only thing that matters in the middle of all this.

Around you, the camp is breaking apart, figures moving in and out of shadow, shouts overlapping, the crack of something breaking nearby. Natasha is somewhere in it too, still fighting, still holding the line without looking like she’s planning to lose it.

Wanda steps closer, not waiting for agreement, already moving you with her presence alone. Pushing you toward the opening she’s carved through the chaos with an eye roll.

ou sit in the aftermath in a silence that feels heavier than the fight itself ever did. The fire has been rebuilt, smaller this time, more cautious—like even it is trying not to draw attention.

Wanda kneels in front of you, focused on what she’s doing instead of anything you’re saying. She wipes at the dried blood under your lip with careful fingers, slower now that the urgency is gone.

Her touch is steady, practiced in a way that makes it clear she’s done this before. Too many times, maybe.

She moves from your face to your hands, checking where the rope burned into your wrists, pressing lightly at bruises like she’s reading them rather than treating them.

Across from you, Natasha sits a little apart from the fire. Close enough to be there, far enough to feel like she’s somewhere else entirely. Her posture is still, but not relaxed. Her eyes are fixed on the flames, unfocused, distant in a way that makes it hard to tell what she’s thinking. There’s dirt and smoke still clinging to her, a faint cut near her cheekbone she hasn’t bothered to clean.

You finally try to speak.

“I—”

“Why didn’t you run when I told you to?” Wanda cuts in immediately, not looking up.

You blink at her. “There were six against you two.”

“And you think you’re much help?” she replies, blunt without hesitation, but her hands don’t stop moving. She shifts to check your side where the kick landed earlier, fingers pressing just enough to make you wince. “Weak and injured from what they did to you?”

“God damn,” you mutter, glancing between them. Natasha still hasn’t looked at you. “And where were you two when we all decided to just fall asleep that night? No lookout. No one watching anything.”

Wanda finally pauses long enough to meet your eyes.

“You told us to take a nap after the day,” she says evenly. “You could’ve kept watch.”

“You could’ve!” you shoot back immediately.

Wanda exhales through her nose, shaking her head like the argument isn’t even worth the effort. “Whatever. Open your blouse.”

Your expression snaps to hers, a little caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

Her eyes flick up briefly, impatient. “You said you got kicked. Let me see it.”

For a second you just stare at her, then glance toward Natasha like she might interrupt or react or, something. She doesn’t. Her gaze stays on the fire, but you can feel it shift, just slightly, like she’s listening now in a way she wasn’t before.

With a reluctant sigh, heat creeping up your neck despite everything, you loosen your blouse enough to expose the bruising along your ribs. It’s ugly. Darkening already, spreading in a way that will ache for days.

Silence settles again, different this time.

Wanda leans in, fingers pressing gently along the injury with a care that doesn’t match her tone from moments before. Natasha’s eyes flick over—just once—but it’s enough for you to feel it. You inhale, ready to cut the tension with something sharp.

“I’m fin—”

Wanda stops you. Not with words.

She simply leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. It’s brief. Quiet. Uncomplicated in the way nothing else between the three of you ever really is.

And when she pulls back, she doesn’t explain it. Doesn’t soften it. Just goes back to checking your bruises like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Across the fire, Natasha finally shifts.

Wanda leans back in, kissing you with more passion this time. All her relief of seeing you again, of their travel and efforts. Sleepless nights to get you back. It all comes to a front, breaking hard. Their rough night of moans and deep kisses, trying to put their exhaustion and worry into an outlet. That being each other.

You return it, reaching a hand into her hair. Keening already, arching into her. She deepens it, sliding you onto her lap, in an awkward way. You slot between her thighs, your back against her chest. Your face turned back towards hers, as she presses kisses from your lips down your jaw now.

Natasha moves to the front of you, sliding her hands down your chest, to squeeze your breast, your nipple. To hear you gasp. You try to snap your knees shut, a reflexive instinct to shield yourself from the sudden, overwhelming rush of arousal, but Natasha’s knees are already there, wedging between yours.

She doesn't let you hide. She watches your face, her eyes dark and tracking every flicker of pleasure, while Wanda’s hands leave your waist to find yours, interlacing your fingers and pinning them to your own thighs.

"Don't," Natasha murmurs, her voice a low, sandpaper rasp that vibrates in your chest. She rolls your nipple between her thumb and forefinger, her gaze never leaving yours. "We didn't spend these past days endlessly tracking you just for you to hold back now."

Behind you, Wanda’s teeth graze the shell of your ear. "Let us have this," Wanda whispers against your neck, her voice thick with the exhaustion of the hunt and the hunger of the find. "Let us have you."

Your expression alone was an answer. Wanda glances to Natasha, and Wanda's hands replace hers on your breasts. Natasha's hands slide down, skipping where you sport a dark bruise. Her expression softening just a fraction at the injury. Natasha’s fingers work the fastening of your pants, drawing them down with a steady, relentless focus.

"W-we're outsi—" you start, voice soft.

Wanda shushes you, her breath a searing weight against your ear that cuts off your protest. Before you can find your voice again, Natasha slides her hand beneath the silk of your panties, making direct, blistering contact. A high whine escapes you as your hips jerk instinctively against her touch, your body betraying your hesitation the moment she finds you.

Natasha’s thumb finds you with a precision that makes your breath hitch, her movements steady and circular as she focuses entirely on your clit. The friction is grounding and relentless, driving a low, rhythmic heat through your core.

Behind you, Wanda’s mouth is a frantic contrast, her kisses searing paths along the sensitive cord of your neck, trailing from your earlobe down to the dip of your shoulder.

As the tension in your body coils tighter, Wanda’s hand leaves your breast, sliding upward to wrap firmly around the front of your throat. It isn't a squeeze, but a heavy, possessive anchor that forces your head back against her shoulder, exposing your neck even further to her hunger.

"Look at her," Wanda murmurs against your skin, her voice vibrating through your spine. "What would we do without this beauty."

Natasha doesn't hesitate. She hooks her arms under your knees, angling your hips upward and pinning you back against Wanda’s thighs to open you completely to the firelight. She leans in, the first lick of her tongue across your clit.

"A-ah....! shit..."

Then, she slides two fingers deep inside you, mirroring the wet, rhythmic sweep of her tongue. The dual sensation, the sharp focus of her mouth and the heavy stretch of her fingers, destroys whatever resolve you had left, leaving you arching helplessly between them.

Natasha slowly withdraws her fingers, the sudden absence of her warmth leaving you feeling exposed and sensitive in the cooling night air. With practiced, steady hands, she reaches down to pull your shorts back up, smoothing the fabric over your hips with a gentleness that feels like a quiet apology for the roughness of the moments before.

For a long minute, no one speaks. The only sounds are the crackle of the dying fire and the synchronized rhythm of three sets of lungs finding their steady state again.

They adjust their positions, tucking you more firmly between them, Wanda’s chin resting on your shoulder, Natasha’s forehead leaning against your knee. Taking care of you with a soft, hovering intensity.

"We were really worried," Natasha finally says, her voice stripped of its usual iron. She doesn't look up, her fingers tracing the hem of your clothes. "I’ve been in a thousand fights, but I felt my entire life flash before me when I saw them take you. Everything just... stopped."

Wanda’s arms tighten around your middle, her grip almost bruising for a second before she softens it. "We haven't slept," she whispers into the crook of your neck.

You let your head fall back against Wanda’s chest, closing your eyes as the weight of their devotion settles over you like a blanket.

"I was scared, too," you admit, your voice small against the vastness of the plains. "But I never doubted. I had this hope... this absolute trust that you were coming. I knew you’d find me. I knew you’d save me."

The mission briefing had been simple. Wanda and Vision would go undercover as a couple to get close to an arms dealer and distract him long enough for Natasha and Steve to slip in unnoticed. 

You hated it from the moment you heard the pairing. 

From the comms room, you watched the cameras. Wanda’s hand slipping naturally into Vision’s arm, her smile soft, practiced, the kind she used when she wanted someone to trust her. The kind she also used on you, when she wanted you to melt. 

You told yourself you were fine. 

You lied. 

Halfway through the mission, Wanda’s voice came through your headset, light, warm, with that Sokovian accent she only used when she was charming the hell out of someone. When she was charming the hell out of you.  

“Oh, we’ve been together for ages,” she said smoothly to the target, “Vision is very protective.” 

Your jaw clenched. Hard. 

Then she laughed. Laughed. That soft little giggle that always made your stomach flutter. You let out a tiny huff under your breath. But of course, Wanda heard it. 

Wanda didn’t react. Of course she didn’t. She is on a mission. What did you expect. 

You muted your mic so fast you nearly ripped it out. 

By the time the mission ended, Vision was thanking her for “playing the part so well,” and Wanda was smiling like nothing was wrong. 

You decided you were not speaking to her for the rest of the night. 

~ 

Wanda found you in your room later, knocking softly before peeking inside. Her hair was still pinned up, cheeks flushed from the cold outside. 

“You didn’t say anything on the ride home,” her voice was gentle. Hopeful. Trying. 

You didn’t look up from your book. 

Wanda blinked, confused, “Are… are you upset with me?” 

Silence. 

She stepped inside cautiously, like approaching a bomb. 

“Y/N?” she whispered, “Did I do something?” 

More silence. 

Wanda’s brows furrowed, lips pouting just slightly, “You’re giving me the silent treatment?” 

You turned a page slowly. 

She gasped like you had committed a war crime, “Me? You’re mad at me? What did I do?” 

The fact that she genuinely didn’t know only made you pout harder. 

“Is it the mission?” she asked, voice small. 

You didn’t answer. 

Wanda exhaled, frustrated but trying not to show it, “You know I had to pretend. It wasn’t real.” 

You kept reading. 

“It wasn’t even good acting!” she protested, throwing her hands up “Vision can’t flirt! He compliments toasters!” 

You snorted. 

Her eyes widened, “Ah! A sound! She lives.” 

You shut your book. Hard. Wanda jumped slightly. 

“Detka…” she said softly, crawling onto the bed beside you, “talk to me?” 

You turned your back to her. Wanda froze. Then let out the most dramatic gasp known to mankind. 

“You’re actually ignoring me.” 

You didn’t move. 

“Oh, this is cruel,” Wanda muttered, climbing under the blanket so she could sit pressed against your back, “Natasha told me about this. She said you get stubborn. But this... this is evil.” 

You smiled into your pillow. 

~ 

The next morning, you walked into the kitchen where Natasha, Sam and Clint were already gathered. Wanda was stirring something on the stove, her eyes flicking up the moment she felt you enter. 

“Morning,” Sam said. Then took one look at the two of you and whispered, “Uh-oh.” 

Wanda brightened immediately, “Y/N! I made your favourite...” 

You walked past her and grabbed a toaster waffle. 

Her face fell like you’d slapped her soul out of her body. 

Natasha raised an eyebrow, “Silent treatment, huh?” 

Wanda groaned, “She won’t even look at me.” 

Clint sipped his coffee, “What’d you do?” 

“I didn’t do anything!” Wanda insisted, pouting, “Well… maybe I laughed. And held Vision’s arm. But that doesn’t count. He doesn’t even have blood.” 

Sam snorted. 

You sat at the far end of the table. Wanda hesitated, then shuffled over and sat directly beside you. 

Clint muttered, “She’s brave.” 

Wanda whispered, “Please talk to me.” 

You took a sip of coffee. 

~ 

By lunch, Wanda had tried everything: offering you food, using her puppy eyes, literally floating a heart-shaped spark of red magic in front of you, sitting in your lap like she forgot how chairs work. 

Nothing. 

When she saw you walking down the hallway, she rushed over. 

“Hi,” she said, smiling hopefully. 

You walked around her. 

Wanda turned dramatically, “She hates me.” 

Bruce patted her shoulder sympathetically, “You’ll survive.” 

“No,” Wanda said, dead serious, “I won’t.” 

~ 

Later, in the lounge, you curled up with a blanket and your phone while the others watched a movie. Wanda entered quietly and sat beside you, pulling her knees to her chest. 

A few minutes passed before she whispered, “You’re really mad.” 

Nothing. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said softly, staring at her hands, “I just… did what the mission needed.” 

Still nothing. 

Wanda let out a small breath, sounding defeated, “Okay. I guess I deserve this.” 

That was the first thing that cracked your resolve. 

~ 

That night, you finally retreated to your room. Wanda followed but didn’t enter right away. She knocked once, then leaned against the doorframe. 

“Can I come in?” 

You didn’t answer. 

She stepped inside anyway, closing the door behind her quietly. 

“You don’t have to forgive me,” she whispered, voice trembling slightly, “But please… talk to me.” 

You looked at her reflection in the mirror, her hands fidgeting nervously, her eyes shiny with emotion. 

She wasn’t playing anymore. 

“I didn’t like watching you,” you said finally, voice small, “with him.” 

Wanda’s breath caught, “I know.” 

“It felt real.” 

She shook her head quickly, stepping closer, “It wasn’t. Not for one second.” 

“You giggled,” you accused. 

Wanda winced, “I giggle when I’m nervous!” 

You turned around. She was already in front of you, eyes huge, worried, loving. 

“It made me feel stupid,” you whispered. 

Wanda cupped your face with both hands instantly, gently guiding you to look at her. 

“You are not stupid,” she said firmly, “You’re the person I come home to. The person I want. The only one.” 

Your throat tightened. 

Wanda’s voice softened, “When I’m undercover, I pretend. But when I’m with you…” she smiled, small, tender, “…I don’t have to pretend at all.” 

You swallowed hard, emotions tangled in your chest, “I hated hearing you say those things.” 

“I hated saying them,” she whispered, “I kept thinking about you. Your voice. Your little huff,” she smiled nervously, “It was cute.” 

You groaned, “Don’t call it cute.” 

“It was cute,” she insisted, brushing your cheek with her thumb, “You sounded jealous.” 

You blushed, “I wasn’t...” 

“Detka. Please.” 

“…okay maybe a little.” 

Wanda’s smile brightened like the sun, “Does that mean you’re done ignoring me?” 

“Maybe.” 

She leaned in, lips barely brushing yours, “Maybe?” she whispered against your mouth. 

You kissed her. And Wanda melted into you immediately, arms locking around your waist like she’d been waiting all day. 

When you pulled back, breathless, you muttered, “You’re lucky I love you.” 

Wanda grinned, cheeks flushed, “You’re right. I am lucky. So damn lucky I get to love you.” 

The apartment was quiet when Wanda unlocked the door. Too quiet.

Her key slid from the lock with a muted click, and she pushed the door open with her shoulder, careful not to jostle the paper bag she carried. A late shift meant she’d missed dinner again, but she’d stopped by the bakery on her way home and grabbed something she thought you’d like. Chocolate croissants. Not exactly nutritious, but she figured it might soften the apology.

The living room lights were low, just the soft golden glow of a lamp left on. At first, Wanda thought you’d gone to bed already. Then her eyes fell to the couch, and her heart stuttered.

You were there.

Curled up, head tipped awkwardly against the armrest, a blanket half-slipped down your shoulder. The TV flickered silently in front of you, a paused screen frozen on some sitcom you’d probably put on to pass the time. Wanda’s chest tightened when she realized what had happened—you’d waited up for her.

She set the paper bag down quietly on the counter and slipped out of her shoes, moving soft as shadow. Her work bag fell against the wall with a muted thud, but you didn’t stir. You were gone to the world, lips parted just the slightest bit, breaths even and steady.

Guilt crept up her spine. She hadn’t meant for her shift to run so late, but she’d gotten caught up again, another crisis that had pulled her attention longer than it should have. She hated that you had fallen asleep here, waiting for her, instead of tucked safe and comfortable in your bed.

For a moment, she just stood there, watching you. The soft rise and fall of your chest, the small crease in your brow even in sleep—it made her ache. Wanda crouched down beside the couch, her face close to yours.

“Sweetheart,” she whispered, her Sokovian accent soft, barely brushing the syllables. “You should have gone to bed.”

You didn’t answer, of course. Your lips twitched, though, as if the sound of her voice tugged faintly at the edge of your dream. Wanda’s smile was helpless. She reached out, brushing back a loose strand of hair that had fallen into your face.

The touch lingered.

Her thumb skimmed the curve of your cheek, marveling at how warm you felt compared to her rain-chilled skin. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed you all day until now—until the relief of seeing you safe and close hit her like a wave.

Wanda straightened, moving carefully to tug the blanket back over your shoulder. She smoothed it down, tucking it around your arms the way she wished she could have held you all evening. For a second, she considered letting you sleep there, but the thought of you waking with a stiff neck made her shake her head.

“Alright, dorogaya,” she murmured, slipping her arms under you. “Up we go.”

You stirred when she lifted you, body shifting instinctively against hers. Your cheek pressed against her collarbone, a faint sigh escaping you. Wanda froze, holding her breath like she’d been caught, but your eyes didn’t open.

She carried you slowly down the hall, adjusting her hold so you wouldn’t bump into the doorframe. You were heavier than you looked, but Wanda didn’t mind. The steady weight of you in her arms was grounding, comforting. When she laid you down on the bed, you mumbled something half-formed, words lost in sleep.

Wanda sat on the edge of the mattress, brushing your hair back again. “I’m here,” she whispered. “Sleep, love. I’m home now.”

She left you there long enough to change into her own pajamas and wash the day off her face. When she came back, you’d shifted onto your side, one hand stretched out like you’d been reaching for her.

Wanda’s heart twisted. She climbed into bed carefully, sliding under the covers and letting your searching hand find hers. Even half-asleep, your fingers curled around hers, gripping lightly, and she felt her throat tighten.

She leaned closer, pressing her lips to your temple. “I’m sorry I was late,” she breathed. “I won’t let it happen again.”

Maybe it was her imagination, but she swore she felt you squeeze her hand in answer.

Hours later, when the first hints of dawn pressed against the blinds, Wanda was still awake. Not because she couldn’t sleep—she was exhausted—but because she couldn’t stop looking at you.

The rise and fall of your chest. The way your mouth softened when you were truly, deeply at rest. She memorized every detail like it was the first time.

You stirred faintly, eyelashes fluttering, and Wanda quickly closed her eyes, feigning sleep. A second later, the mattress dipped as you shifted closer, tucking your head against her chest. Her lips parted on a shaky exhale.

Wanda wrapped her arms around you then, finally allowing herself to drift, the world narrowing to the steady rhythm of your breathing against her. ---

When you woke the next morning, the first thing you noticed was the smell of something warm and sweet wafting from the kitchen. The second thing was Wanda’s absence beside you.

Groggy, you dragged yourself from the bed, padding down the hall.

Wanda was at the stove, hair still messy from sleep, wearing one of your old shirts that hung loose on her frame. She turned at the sound of your footsteps, eyes lighting instantly.

“Good morning,” she said softly. “You slept well?”

You blinked, still half-asleep, and rubbed your eyes. “I was waiting for you last night.”

“I know.” Her voice faltered just a little. “I’m sorry.”

You shuffled closer, leaning into the counter beside her. “You carried me, didn’t you?”

Her lips curved despite the guilty flush rising in her cheeks. “You make it sound like it was difficult.”

You gave her a look, and she laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Yes. I carried you. You were stubborn, even in your sleep.”

The memory softened something in you, the irritation you’d meant to hold on to slipping away. Wanda reached over, cupping your jaw, her thumb brushing over your cheek.

“I hate leaving you waiting,” she murmured. “But I promise—I’m here now.”

”Yup. You remember my order, right?” Your friend Yelena asks through the phone, which in turn causes you to roll your eyes and hum unenthusiastically.

”Hey, watch your tone, idiot,” she says so sternly that you can imagine her pointing a finger at you, “you owe me after making me work overtime to help you. The least you could do is buy me some breakfast and coffee to get me through the day. Plus, it might be time for you to try new things, seeing you eat meal-prepped chicken and vegetables for a week and a half makes me sad.”

You grumble in response like a petulant child, even though she’s right. It was rare for you to try something new, with the reason that it might ruin your routine that always helped you function normally. You could say that your routine isn’t broken, so there’s no need to fix it, but you know that you’re lying to yourself.

Lately, it’s making you feel like a machine, going through the motions every time you wake up and fall asleep on the same bed. And now that the universe — specifically a blonde woman starving for a cinnamon roll and black coffee — is giving you the opportunity to change up your routine, you decide that you shouldn’t miss your chance to feel more alive than the last few weeks.

”You still haven’t answered me, you know,” Yelena pipes up after a few seconds of silence from your part. “I want three cinnamon rolls and a black coffee, you understand? Three cinn—”

”Glutton,” you interrupt before hanging up the phone.

Taking a few steps towards the door and pushing it, your eyes are met with a small yet cozy-looking shop. The rising sun casts a golden glow through each window and hits every nook and cranny, lulling you to a sense of comfort, comfort that makes you forget about your anxieties from ruining your routine the moment you stepped foot into this establishment. Once the door chime stopped ringing, your ears catch the faint hum of pop music that you’ve heard a million times from the speakers, causing you to absentmindedly hum along the lyrics as you look at the menu.

”Good morning, can I take your order?” A soft yet slightly raspy feminine voice on the other side of the counter asks. As your eyes drift back down to meet the cashier’s eyes, you’re met with a woman having soft and captivating green eyes. As you voice out the orders that you have for yourself and Yelena, you inadvertently take a glance at the tag pinned on her chest: Iryna. It’s not everyday you see a business owner also working as a cashier.

It didn't take long for someone to call your order number, which meant you had to walk back to the counter while typing a message to your co-worker. The familiar aroma of Yelena's strong coffee compelled you to put your phone into your pocket, your eyes roaming the tray in front of you to check if everything’s in place.

“Is everything to your liking?”

A new voice with an accent similar to the cashier gracefully blesses your ears, which led you to flick your gaze up to a different set of emerald eyes, yet not less captivating than the first ones you saw. No, somehow those shades of green had enough power to turn you speechless, which made you look like an idiot in front of the brunette woman, who's still holding up a soft, welcoming smile.

God, she has such a nice smile. Those slightly crinkled eyes that twinkled under the café’s fluorescent lighting, those upturned lips that make you feel like a friend rather than just another customer, which are… slowly turning into a frown? What—

Oh god. You've been staring at her face like a creep.

You begin to stammer as embarrassment fills your entire system, nodding while you try to form a single sentence that at the very least consists of words like “yes” and “thank you”. But of course, you fail to do that, because while you were blabbering incomprehensible nonsense out of your lips, your hands were shakily grabbing the bag of pastries, which led to toppling yours and Yelena's drinks, spilling it all over the floor.

”Oh shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to, shit—”

“No, no, it’s okay, it’s okay, Piet will clean it up. Pietro!” The woman reassures you, her accent still prominent, especially when she yells out an unfamiliar name. A tall muscular man quickly rushes towards the two of you, however you didn’t have the time to register his face as you hear the cashier loudly click her tongue out of exasperation (which was obviously directed at your clumsy ass). Thus, out of instinct, you tightly grip the bag of pastries and scurry off, still blabbering apologies out of your lips as you left.

And now, as you walk through the town of Westview, you nervously accept the call that causes your phone to ring obnoxiously.

”Hey Yelena, remember our breakfast? I…” You pause for a few seconds to get your bearings straight.

“Iaccidentallyspilledourcoffeeinthecaféandgotsoembarrassedandleft—” You manage to jabber out in one breath, just to be met with silence on the other end of the line.

After another five seconds of silence, you decided to speak up. ”Hello? Lena—”

”I will strangle you the moment you clock in.”

It seemed like the universe pitied you so much that Yelena decided to spare your life after that incident, which is (thankfully) one less problem in your life. Your current problem, however, is trying to erase that embarrassing moment in your brain. Even the most insignificant things become greatly significant when it even barely relates to that specific incident. Just a few hours ago, the tiniest coffee stain on your co-worker’s collar immediately reminded you of your insanely stupendous gay panic four days ago.

However, as much as you wanted to forget how you ruined your reputation, you couldn't bear forgetting the only memory that included her, with those emerald eyes that captivated your very heart and soul. And now, here you were, standing in front of the same building that contains the coziest café you've entered (and the most gorgeous employee you've ever seen).

The same relaxing ambiance from the first time you entered welcomes you when you walk towards the line of customers, although it's completely and immediately overshadowed by how nervous you are to be facing the girl. To be honest, this was an impromptu visit, but your mind persuaded you so much to see her again to talk to her (and maybe even clean your reputation). As a result, your mind is now starting to go rampant with anxiety.

God, what if she makes fun of me when she remembers my face? That would be so embarrassing and would hurt my ego more. But maybe she won't remember me, since she probably serves a lot of people and she could care less if I came back or not. If that's the case, then I wasted my time and energy coming here! I swear to god, I hope that's not the case—

Your thoughts get interrupted once it was your turn to order. As you walk closer to the counter, the same cashier from before, Iryna, greets you with a modest smile. You then start to notice her face scrunching up to scowl at you the more you stare at each other. Great, she recognizes you.

“Can I help you?” Iryna asks with an arched brow, her sass emanating from her figure so intensely you swear you could feel it in your own skin. You try to quell your nervousness before speaking to the intimidating woman. “I um, yeah. Can I just get a small latte?” You manage to murmur while you tap your fingers against the counter.

“You sure you can trust yourself with handling drinks?” The woman’s derisive reply causes you to wince, it’s clear that she hasn’t forgiven you. However, instead of scurrying away like you always do, you get the strong surge of courage, your feet now planted firmly against the wooden floors of the café as you take a deep breath before responding.

“Miss Iryna, I— I wanted to apologize for the commotion I made that day. I’m sorry for making a mess in your café, I just got really… overwhelmed that moment that I got really clumsy. I understand how hard it is to keep a small business from getting chaotic, and I’m sure how stressful it is to deal with a disruptive customer.”

Once the words register in Iryna’s brain, her eyes snap back up at you, piercing through your soul as she scrutinizes your very being. “Oh, I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” she replies, making your head tilt a bit out of confusion.

“You should be apologizing to my kids, since they did all the work only for you to waste them,” she reprimands, “my daughter, Wanda, meticulously brewed and blended those two cups of coffee with all her love and passion, only for you to throw it away onto the floor like it’s nothing! And then my son Pietro had to clean up the mess you made! Do you know how long it took for him to clean up for your sorry ass?” She spits out as she points at your apologetic form, your confidence quickly fading as you shrink to yourself in shame.

Before she could add more salt to your wound, a different voice butts into your conversation. “Ma, that’s enough! Don’t talk to our customers like that!” The same woman who turned you speechless that day, who you figured is Wanda, tells her mother in a hushed whisper. You awkwardly look away as she tries to calm her mother down, the two women muttering to each other for a good amount of time.

Once Wanda managed to calm Iryna down, despite a little bit of indignation coming from the other woman, she tilts her head up to look at you, her hand not leaving her mother's back. “I'm so sorry about my mother, she has a bit of a temper when people try to mess up her store,” Wanda explains, her alluring eyes holding an apologetic gaze.

“N-no, it's okay,” you stammer, still not used to be gazing at a woman who is most likely sent by the gods to bless and curse you, “I understand why she's mad, I shouldn't have made a mess, especially since you worked hard on making those drinks for me. I really am sorry for making a commotion in your very peaceful and cozy café, I'll be less clumsy next time.”

After your apology, Wanda parts her lips out of surprise, since she really didn't expect you to apologize to her. She then closes her mouth after a few seconds before lifting the corners of her lips to form a gentle smile, which is immediately making you almost lose your cool again. “Thank you, but it's all good, really. It's clear that you didn't mean to make a commotion. Plus, it was pretty funny to watch you floundering for whatever reason,” she giggles teasingly, causing your face to heat up out of embarrassment, “why did you get nervous?”

Just as always, you start to struggle finding a believable explanation. There's absolutely no way you're telling her that you got nervous by just gazing upon her beauty.

But before you can even think of a lie, a silver-haired man pokes his head from the kitchen to call out for her. “Sestra, get off your ass and help me with these orders!” The younger brunette rolls her eyes out of mild chagrin before bringing her gaze back to you, her friendly smile back in what seems like a millisecond. “A-anyway, I shouldn't keep you here at the cashier counter for so long. I’m sorry again for my mother's crankiness, I hope she didn't scare away a potential regular in our store,” she giggles as her nose scrunches up in delight, “I should get going, it was nice meeting you!”

Even when she finally turns around to leave, your eyes never stray from her figure, too starstruck by her beauty that you didn't notice Iryna glaring at you.

“I'd appreciate it if you finalize your order instead of ogling at my daughter,” the woman rasps, which effectively bring your eyes back to her face. “I um, I actually came here so that I could talk to her,” you mutter sheepishly, as to which Iryna raises her brow, intrigued. “Well, you already did, and now I don’t want you wasting my time and just finish your order.”

“I know, and— and I will, I just wanna— if it’s okay for you— to introduce myself to her,” you immediately stammer, not wanting to miss this opportunity of seeing the woman again, so much so that you didn’t realize how desperate you were starting to get. “Please?” You ask as your face forces a sweet smile, which didn’t help your case since all Iryna sees is a weird and awkward grimace.

Wanting to end this draining conversation as quick as possible, Iryna huffs before replying. “Well, she’s going away in a few days, so you shouldn’t get your hopes up. But fine, I’ll let you introduce yourself to her only on one condition: You have to buy something from our store every single day. Is that a deal?”

The proposition surprised you, which obviously made you ask: “What?” “Hey, if you’re coming into my establishment just to flirt with my daughter, you might as well buy something to keep our business up,” Iryna shrugs with a smirk on her face, as if daring you to even decline the offer that gets you what you really want. And with that smug look on her face, it made you finally think about what you were doing.

Should you really let this woman capitalize off of you and her daughter just for a few bucks? Are you gonna really let her, in some aspect, control what you will spend your money on, just to talk to a girl who you barely know and would probably reject you once you get to know her better?

The answer is yes.

To be fair, the food here is really good, and I get why Yelena really likes this place. Plus, I can just give the food I bought to her as some sort of apology for not getting her a coffee four mornings ago, so it’s not like it isn’t worth it, you justify in your head before looking back up at the woman with determination in your eyes.

”Deal.”

Your fingers tap against the table as you wait for your coffee, your mind telling you to not look around the café in hopes that you would find the brunette woman that’s been lingering in your mind for the past week. Just as you agreed on, you came into the store everyday to buy something to eat before you go to work. You’ve had some doubts whether spending a few bucks on coffee and breakfast was worth it when you could make your own, but those worries immediately get silenced whenever you see Wanda smiling brightly at you, obviously happy that they gained another loyal customer.

It’s a miracle that you get to talk to her once in a while, even though it’s only when she brings your order to your table. You two have only talked about simple yet meaningful topics, like her talent for making delicious coffee and pastries (which always makes her get all shy), her occasional gigs where she sings as she plays the guitar in the café, and her dream of attending a culinary class once she has enough money in her savings, which you never forget to give her your support whenever it’s brought up. What’s not good, however, is that you haven’t really asked her out, always getting cold feet whenever you look at her with those emerald eyes of hers. You’ve never been good with getting any woman that you’re attracted to, how different will your current situation be?

A figure carrying a tray enters your peripheral vision as it walks towards your table, causing your eyes to fully look at it with eagerness. Your excitement dies down when you see that it’s not the owner’s daughter that greets you, but rather the owner’s son, Pietro. Your eyes widen when he smirks mischievously, seemingly noticing how you got your hopes up.

”Oh, thank you,” you mutter politely, not wanting to show how bummed you are at him giving you your breakfast. Unfortunately, he can see right through your act.

He doesn’t respond, only circling around your table as he maintains eye contact and grins. Halfway through his circling, he walks straight before facing the old lady that’s sitting at a table a few meters away from you. He stops in front of her with a friendly smile and placing the tray onto the table. Oh.

After saying the common niceties you hear from a server, he turns around and walks back toward your table, his polite smile slowly shifting into that annoying and smug grin that he has, which seems like it’s only reserved for you.

“You looked a bit bummed for a second there. Were you expecting someone else?” He teases, moving to take a seat across from you.

You roll your eyes before looking away, feeling a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “No, I just… thought that you have my order,” you reply, only for the silver-haired man to chuckle. “So if I did actually have your order, you wouldn’t have been sulking a few seconds ago?”

“… Yes.” He scoffs at your obvious lie. He then leans forward to be closer before murmuring lowly so that only you can hear it.

”Look, let’s be real here, you’re painfully obvious. You’re not slick, alright? You like my sister, Ma and I know that,” he comes clean, not without forgetting a bit of sass in his tone. You slump your shoulders in defeat as he rests his arms against the table.

”Is that why you’re here? To tell me to back off from your sister?” You mumble dejectedly, only for him to shake his head. “Nope, I’m here to tell the opposite.”

Your brows raise in surprise, which encourages him to continue. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but she broke up with her ex almost a year ago for being a dick to her friends, and I want her to find someone new to meet. Someone that’ll treat her and her friends better, and I’m assuming that you will be that ‘someone’. You will treat her better right? I barely know anything about you to even know that you will.” He raises his brow for confirmation, in which you quickly nod. “Of course, of course I will, I won’t do anything to hurt her. And even if I do, I’ll make sure to be better,” you reply earnestly.

Pietro doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he’s taking his sweet time scrutinizing you with his glaring, trying to see any hints of you lying. You start to think that their mother’s ability to intimidate you is hereditary.

Finally, after an awfully long silence between the two of you, he straightens his posture as his glare fades away, seemingly convinced at your words. “Alright, good, because if you break her heart, I’ll waterboard you using a pot of scalding hot coffee. Coffeeboarding, if you will.” He jests, although all you can do is nervously laugh along at his “joke” of a threat, since you’re super certain that it’s really not a joke.

His laughter finally dies down as he looks at you with a pleading smile. “So yeah, ask her out. I approve the idea of you two dating, you’d look cute together.” He flashes his charming smile, but you shake your head apologetically. “Sorry Pietro, as much as I’d love to, I don’t think I can.”

With that, his grin turns into a frown. “What? Why not?”

“Because, I obviously don’t have the confidence to talk to a woman. Plus, I don’t think she likes me like that. I’m just a customer to her, just like I am to you,” you huff dejectedly, pessimism taking over your body. Pietro shakes his head in disappointment in response.

”Don’t say that, Y/N.”

”It’s true—”

”No it’s not—”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

Pietro slumps against his seat at your insistence. He’s starting to feel that begging a customer to flirt with her sister isn’t all that worth it to argue about. But before he can even accept his defeat, a thought pops up in his mind. He straightens his posture again.

”You do know that it doesn’t take too long for someone to make coffee and heat up a croissant, right?” He asks, his confidence re-emerging, as to which you reply, “What does that have to do with anything?”

”It means that she’s taking her sweet, sweet time in there, making your coffee and that chocolate croissant real special just for you,” he points out while he uses a lovey-dovey tone in his voice, which doesn’t help him from convincing you.

”She’s probably just prioritizing other people’s orders first.”

“I guess you have a point,” he huffs at your possibly true justification, but he doesn’t waver, “but… have you ever seen me or any of our other employees bring your food to you?”

That catches your attention. Apparently, you yourself haven’t noticed that, since you’re too busy not making a complete fool of yourself when talking to her. And from the look on your face, Pietro knows that he’s got you now.

”Wait, are you telling me that you didn’t catch onto that until now? Even the fact that she sits down with you, and only you, every time to talk? You do know that we’re not required to have a five-minute chat with every single one of our customers, right?” He asks, a combination of amusement and genuine concern in his expression.

As much as you want to reply some sort of irritated retort, your brain is too busy processing what’s apparently been right in your face. How didn’t I realize that? Does that mean— No, no, that can’t be true, she just enjoys my company as a friend if that’s the case. Pietro’s just bullshitting… but maybe he’s not? Look at him, he looks so confident. So confident, in fact, that he could probably tell me that a gambling addiction is good for every kid to have and I’ll believe him. You ponder in your head while Pietro just patiently watches you.

”Sorry it took too long,” another voice enters, which you quickly recognize that it’s Wanda’s. “N-no, no, it’s alright, I’m not really busy right now,” you reply softly, looking at her with a warm smile. And with your gentle expression, her heart flutters

Wanda snaps back to reality, realizing that she’s still working. ”Is my brother bothering you?” She asks as she sets up your coffee and a plate of chocolate croissant on your table.

”When has he not?”

She chuckles softly at your reply while the other twin scoffs. “I suppose that’s a good point,” she grins as she straightens up, clutching the tray while tucking it between her arms and waist. “I wish I could’ve arrived earlier so that I could shoo him away before he could even say something remotely annoying,” she taunts with a cheeky grin. She decides not to mention that the reason she took too long was because she took another try at drizzling the chocolate syrup on the pastry in front of you, wanting it to be perfect.

”Okay, so rude,” Pietro scoffs, which only made you and Wanda giggle. “I was just talking to her about this bar called ‘The F-4’ that has drinks so fucking fantastic, I might consider being an alcoholic.”

”Pietro—” Wanda scolds him, but her brother doesn’t take it seriously.

”What? Sue me, Wanda, but you can’t deny and tell me that place isn’t fire,” He groans before turning his head to look back at you. “My sister here,” He points at her with his thumb, “She won’t admit it, but she can’t get enough of how they made a Cosmopolitan in that place. She could drink that thing for ages and she’d still want more.” You chuckle at the image that his words planted in your head.

”I mean, yeah, that place is great,” Wanda huffs, and Pietro grins at his sister’s defeat. “It is great, especially when you have a date, you can bring them there and have fun, you know?” Pietro raises a brow at you, and your eyes widen at his implication of taking his sister to that bar. You only give him a small glare and a subtle disagreeing shake of your head as a response. As a result, you don't notice the small frown that appears on Wanda's lips for a split second.

“Oh? Who's the lucky girl?” Wanda asks as she puts up a mischievous smile, quelling down the small fire of jealousy in her heart.

“I-it's nobody! Pietro’s just on another one of his bullshit again. Also, don't make that face, you look like him and that's not a compliment,” you reply as your face heats up in embarrassment. The twins only chuckle as you hide your face with your hand.

“Well, either way,” Wanda pauses as she places a hand just behind your shoulder, making you tense up yet still have the willpower to look up at her enchanting emerald eyes, “I’m sure that they're gonna have fun wherever you take them.”

You take a moment to blink before speaking. “Even when I take them to a landfill?”

Wanda giggles in response, making your heart flutter at the sound. “Maybe.”

“It's always fun whenever you're around, no matter what place you end up on.”

Even though the three of you share a moment of silence after she said that, it's for three different reasons. For Wanda, it's to send you the sweetest smile someone has ever given you, her cheeks a little red while her eyes twinkle with appreciation for the person she's talking to. For you, it's to use every brainpower to not fall unconscious because from her heartfelt words. And for Pietro, it’s to watch at how your interaction unravels, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing and interrupting the scene happening before him.

You start to replay his words in your head. Is he telling the truth? Does she really like me back? She was flirting, right? No employee casually says that to a customer, and no friend says those words with that look in their eyes. Should I actually try and go for it? God, it’s gonna be so embarrassing if I do… but I can just invite her as friends first. Yeah, that’s a good idea. Okay, you can do this—

”Wan—”

”Wanda! Pietro! Stop bothering your customers and get back to work!” Iryna scolds her kids, her Sokovian accent slipping out. Pietro then briskly stands up, his sister stepping aside as he fixes the chair he once occupied.

”Anyways, we should get going, we don’t want your breakfast to get cold.” Wanda gives you a tight-lipped, bashful smile. “Were you gonna say something, Y/N?” Pietro asks with an insinuating tone, making Wanda look at you with furrowed brows. The small amount of confidence you once had completely vanishes as they stare at you, making you shake your head out of anxiety.

”N-no, no, it’s nothing important,” you reply as you wave your hand in dismissal, ignoring the disappointed glare the silver-haired man gives you. “You should get back to work, wouldn’t want to keep your mom waiting,” you grin at the small attempt of lightening the mood.

After the twins wave goodbye to you (not without Pietro shaking his head at you), you slump against your chair. Reaching for the perfectly decorated chocolate croissant (courtesy of a certain brunette), you take a bite big enough for the chocolate filling, sweet enough that it’s not overwhelming to your taste buds but actually makes you want to get more of it. Along with the decent amount of chocolate drizzle and the croissant that’s been heated up to the perfect temperature, making it crispy on the outside yet fluffy on the inside, the three creates a beautiful harmony as you continue chewing, savoring every flavor it brings. As much as it brings you comfort, it also brings you a sense of realization. She really did take her sweet, sweet time.

”God, I’m a coward.”

”Jesus, the reason why I never went back in this café was because I already have you as my personal delivery woman,” Yelena dramatically groans as she lets you pull her by her wrist, leading her to your now-favorite establishment.

”Oh, come on, it’s Saturday, it’s not like you’re busy anyway,” you reply at the petulant blonde. Your steps are more determined as ever as you get closer and closer to the café. “Besides, you owe me a favor for giving me a job I didn’t ask for.”

”And you decided to use your one and only favor to drag me along as a… what was it again? Right, as a moral support when you ask out an employee,” she rolls her eyes as she recalls your words yesterday during your lunch break.

”Hey, don’t belittle her as just an employee, Lena. She’s a really great friend and a really good baker,” you chastise the other woman.

Your tone only makes her scoff. “I’m not belittling her, I’m belittling you!” She continues after hearing you scoff in disbelief. “You’re telling me that you, a woman with a stable job in her mid-20s is scared of asking out a nice lady? That’s pathetic.”

”I know, I know, I’m just— I’m nervous, okay?” You confess through a heavy sigh, “What if she rejects me? That would make things weird between us. That would also mean that all those stuff I bought in their café just to talk to her isn’t worth it.”

Yelena only tuts at your pessimistic perspective before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, rejection’s a part of our lives. Rather than running away from it, be the bigger person and accept that not everything goes your way, and that’s okay.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise at the onslaught of motivational words coming out of your usually-brusque friend’s mouth, but you don’t interrupt her, since that’s the reason why you brought her here.

Yelena reaches her free hand to firmly hold your hand. ”The situation’s only gonna get weird if one of you makes it weird. The only thing you can do is be calm and politely respect her decision.”

You try to nod at her wise words, only for your head to be held still by her hands, which are now cupping your cheeks, slightly squishing them.

”Let me ask you this: Did you enjoy the times you got to talk to her when you go to visit her?”

You nod.

”Then all the money you spent for her were worth it, you know why? Because not only did you make a friend, you also supported her work, and if I were in her shoes, I would be super grateful to have met you.” She explains, making you perk up a small smile through puckered lips at her full support for you.

”You’re an amazing person, Y/N. If she says no, then that’s her loss. You can do it.” Yelena softly adds, her lips forming a warm smile.

As you thank her for the pep talk she gave you, you don’t notice the woman that was the subject of your conversation watching the two of you. The two of you also don’t notice the brief flash of defeat on her usually-bright green eyes once you spot her. “So she did have a date,” she thinks to herself as she watches you lightly jog towards her with a smile.

”Wanda, hey!” You greet her with a small wave once you were standing a few feet away from her. You frown slightly in confusion when you notice the lack of a certain garment. “You’re not wearing your apron, are you not on-duty today?”

The brunette bashfully looks down at herself, instinctively dusting off the beige trench coat with her hands. “Oh, yeah. Victor invited me to join him and our friends to go to Canada for a vacation.”

As if on cue, the universe answers your unasked curiosity when a tall, lean-figured man walks up and intertwines his hand with Wanda. Oh.

”Wanda, darling, are you all set?” The man asks with a prominent British accent, making him sound all prim and proper.

The other woman turns her head to look at him, a soft and warm smile graces her features as she stares at him. “Yep, I’m all set. I was just saying goodbye to my family.”

Once she realizes that you’re still awkwardly standing in front of them, she immediately turns to look at you.

”Oh, right! Y/N, this is Victor, my boyfriend. Victor, this is Y/N, my friend and our very loyal customer.”

The man, Victor, reaches for your hand to greet you politely after Wanda’s introduction. You could only give them a tight-lipped smile in return, not wanting to show the immense amount of disappointment you’re feeling.

”I shouldn’t keep you here for too long, I know you all have a flight to catch,” you manage to reply seconds after Victor lets go of your hand.

”Wow, I just introduced you two to each other and now you’re eager for us to leave. Do you secretly hate us?” Wanda playfully asks, her hand flat against her chest as if she was physically hurt by your words. You retort with a scoff.

”Oh definitely. I’m so happy that you’re gonna be gone for a while! Oh, I can’t wait to hang out with your annoying brother everyday!” You reply with a fake enthusiastic tone in your voice, as to which Wanda giggles at your obvious sarcasm. You can’t help but laugh along with her melodic voice. Your laughter dies down once one of Wanda’s friends call her from one of the cars parked outside the establishment.

”But seriously, you two have fun out there, and stay safe!”

From your earnest reminder, the couple can’t help but smile gratefully, but you’re too focused at the alluring woman standing before you.

You, Pietro, and Iryna wave goodbye to the brunette as the car where she’s in drives away. Once the vehicle disappeared from your line of sight, you let out a sigh as your shoulders slump in defeat. Pietro and Yelena, despite being strangers to each other, share a pitying look at one another before placing a hand on both sides of your shoulders.

If you were to wallow over rejection and/or heartbreak, where will you go and what will you do? Will it be:

A. A bar, where you could drink all your sorrows until you pass out;

B. In your own room, where you could cry in peace as you watch a cheesy rom-com, wishing it was you experiencing the happy ending the main characters get to have; or

C. In a café, sluggishly eating an almost-stale chocolate croissant at the table in the utmost corner of the area, not minding the concerned stares the employees and other customers give you.

Despite being in the same café where the notable realization happened, which was that the woman who caught your heart and attention without any effort was already taken, you still come back every day at the same time as before. You only come back because as much as hate to admit it to Iryna, their food has gotten you hooked, which actually made you the most loyal customer since you’ve visited for approximately five months now— Pietro’s words, not yours. You definitely don’t come back with the small hope of seeing a certain brunette again to give you perfectly-crafted pastries that always made your days special. Of course not, that would be pathetic.

But judging by your state, aren’t you already pathetic-looking?

Ever since Wanda’s absence, Pietro has taken the role of his sister, making every one of your breakfast orders with precision and skill he acquired after years of helping out their mother in her business. You appreciate the effort he always puts in every one of them and the fact that he always takes a few minutes off his time to chat and take your mind off of a certain someone. You love Pietro, he’s a great friend, but it would probably kill him if you admitted that you prefer every piece of Wanda’s scrumptious concoctions more than his.

Unbeknownst to your sorry ass, the older twin can see through your tight-lipped smiles, trying your best to always look polite whenever he arrives to your table. He doesn’t dwell on it that much, since he knows how it sucks to be rejected by almost every woman he flirts with. Rather than adding salt onto your wounded heart, he decides that he’d let you take your time in moving on rather than copying Yelena’s approach, which is to give you the good ol’ tough love pep talk. It’s good to have a balance, he thinks. You shouldn’t be pressured too hard or else everything might actually get even worse.

But around a month ago, he started to have some doubts if that was a good idea to handle things.

He shakes his head as he looks away from your unassuming figure, focusing on scooping ice in the freezer box in front of him. As he prepares another customer’s coffee, he bites the inside of his right cheek on impulse, contemplating whether or not he should go forward with a different strategy. Doubts and anxiety hinder his decision-making, but as he enters the kitchen, hidden from every customer’s curious gaze, his mind is finally set.

”I know you said that you love baking, but I think that this is overkill, sestra. You might as well sleep on the table at this point.” Wanda only huffs in response, not taking her focus away from the dough she’s thoroughly kneading.

Per the woman’s request, she’s been cooped up in the kitchen preparing batches of pastries after coming back from Canada just two months ago. She also asked her family not to tell anyone else about her return, still not ready to show herself to the public, wanting some time for herself while still being able to work. Although as much as her family respects her decision, they're pretty certain that it kills her to be stuck in the kitchen without socializing with her friends, too stuck in her own thoughts to even break the cycle of wanting isolation and craving someone's company.

“You need to take a break—” “Piet, I'm fine,” Wanda interjects, although neither one of the twins believe the words that came out of her mouth.

”God, you are stubborn,” Pietro scoffs. “You’re gonna burn yourself out one day, you know that? And when that time comes, who’s gonna help Mama when I start on my new job?”

Wanda mentally curses herself as she remembers. Right, Pietro got accepted to work in Oscorp and would be starting his very first shift next week. But what else is she supposed to do to move on from Victor?

”Come on, sestra, your friends are worried about you. Some of them even asked me if you’re okay since you barely respond to their messages.” Pietro walked closer to his sister, his voice laced with concern. “If you really want to fully move on from that cheating douchebag, you need to talk to people that care about you.”

He then placed a hand on her shoulder, making Wanda look up at him. Her eyes shined of uncertainty, and his heart broke at the sight. It reminded him of the times when she would look up at him for answers when they were little, her green eyes shining as the brimming tears reflect the light emitted by the kitchen lights.

Pietro uttered a soft “come here” before engulfing her in a warm hug, pressing his lips on her temple to give a semblance of comfort. Wanda gratefully accepts the gesture, and they both stay in that position for a moment, both relishing the feeling of love, care, and support.

Once Wanda pulls away with a sigh, Pietro gently pats her shoulders with a small smile. “Come on, you’re taking the day off,” the man instructs, causing Wanda’s eyes to widen, her lips parting as she prepares to refuse, only for Pietro to interrupt with a tut.

”That wasn’t a suggestion, that was an order. Ma and Pa wanted you to take a break from working.”

”Well, what the hell am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?”

After taking the last sip of your coffee, you place the empty cup and the used utensils back onto the tray to tidy up the table before you leave. You then get up from your seat and grab your bag before you go about your day like clockwork.

But before you could even reach for the door handle, a hand wraps around your wrist. Their grip wasn’t tight or anything. It was gentle, yet prominent enough for you to look back in confusion.

And what you saw was a woman who you never thought you would actually see again, let alone feel her touch like this.

Neither of you speak nor make any movement. Your lips slightly parted in surprise and bewilderment, while her eyes were so wide that you were concerned it would pop out of place. So many thoughts are running through your mind right now.

Why is she here? I thought she went to Canada with her boyfriend? Did she just get back today? Why is she holding my arm? Are her hands always this soft?

Instead of voicing out your questions, you only utter a single word.

”Wanda?”

”I— Y/N, hey,” the woman sputters. Just like you, she’s surprised why she just chased after you. Pietro said that it’ll be good to catch up with her friends, but she didn’t have to feel a sliver of panic when she saw that you were just about to leave.

”H-hey, how are you? It’s been a while since we last talked.” You try your best to keep your composure. You forgot how you get so easily nervous around this gorgeous woman.

Wanda only lets out a nervous giggle. “Yeah, yeah, it has.”

An awkward silence fills the conversation, which led to the two of you noticing that she’s still holding your wrist. But instead of letting go, Wanda’s hold tightens a bit, signaling a newfound source of determination.

”I actually wanted to… catch up with you. Piet said that you were free today?”

”O-oh, yeah, I am. But I was planning to get some groceries, but I guess that could wait.” You let out a small smile, which only made Wanda gulp nervously.

”N-no, no, I shouldn’t be on your way of your errands—”

”Hey, hey, it’s fine,” you reassure her, waving your hand that wasn’t captured by Wanda’s comforting hold. “Besides, I really wanna know how you’ve been. Maybe we can talk while I shop for groceries?”

Just at the mere image of talking to you while strolling through multiple aisles with carefree smiles on your faces, Wanda blurts out: ”What, like a grocery date?”

Both yours and Wanda’s cheeks redden once her words were fully processed.

”If… if you want it to be,” you mumble sheepishly as you finally take a risk of kinda asking her out.

Wanda lets out a relieved sigh as a gleeful smile envelops her face. “Yeah… yeah, I’d like that,” she nods eagerly, the red in her cheeks only getting darker, making yours do the same. A giddy smile creeps up on your face no matter how hard you try to keep your composure.

Just as you’re opening the door for her, she slides her hand down to hold yours, pretending that she doesn’t notice your hand tensing up for a second before squeezing hers.

Once the door chime rings, alerting yours and Wanda’s departure, Iryna walks up beside her son, who was watching the two of you with a smug grin.

”Was that Wanda? Did she finally take our word to take a break?” Iryna asks as she squints at the glass door, trying to confirm if that was her daughter leaving the café.

”Yep, and guess what, Ma? Y/N finally got to ask the girl out!” Pietro looks at his mother with victory gleaming in his eyes. “They call that ‘killing two birds with one stone’, yeah?” He raises his eyebrows twice proudly, which makes his mother scoff in endearment.

”As much as I feel relieved to finally settle those problems, I’m gonna miss bribing that woman to buy something from us against her will.”

Pietro chuckles at Iryna’s comment as she feigned sorrow. His wide smile softens as he looks back at the two retreating figures, amicably talking to one another with bright smiles on their faces.

”Don’t worry, Ma. I’m sure she still has a reason to come back here.”

The moon and its sparkly knights slowly retreat as the morning comes. It’s the fifth day of your “Bye bye, Wanda” sting operation. The sun rays slowly slit the dark in Wanda’s room open and stir you up from your sleep. You were in your sleep so deep that it took a few seconds for you to figure out where you were and then you find Wanda is still sleeping next to you. You look at her and you don’t know why you slept so comfortably that night, it’s not like you. It’s never really that easy for you to sleep comfortably in a new place on the first night. Maybe it’s the wine, that’s what you have in mind. Yeah, it was because of that good wine you and Wanda had. Not from the comfort you felt, none of that. Yes, yes, none of that. That’s the conclusion you have in mind right now.

As your eyes gently observe Wanda’s face features, her hair and her lips, your brain replays what happened last night. The spontaneous kiss you did to make your plan work. Why the hell was the kiss the first thing that came to your mind? You try to direct your mind to think about something else, about what’s the next move you should do. Unfortunately, your mind has a different idea. Despite all of the chaos you created for her, you are thinking about how fun the date was last night and how funny Wanda’s face was after she heard the names you gave to her two breasts after that kiss you have with her. A smile forms on your face slowly without you even noticing.

Your train of thoughts are abruptly stopped as soon as you notice that Wanda is starting to wake up. You quickly shake all those thoughts off and pretend that you were waking up at the same time with Wanda.

Wanda smiles and greets you sleepily. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

A blush sneakily colors your cheeks and you laugh awkwardly but to Wanda, it’s still the sound that she likes from you. You cover your awkwardness with a light sarcasm. “Good morning. Wow, isn’t it too early to flirt already?”

“Hm, maybe but it’s not too early to be honest and call you gorgeous, because you are. So I don’t see any problem with me saying that.” Wanda lays on her side and prompts her head up with her hand.

“Are you always this confident every single second?” You intentionally let out another irrational sarcasm to hold another smile that almost shows up.

“Are you always this cranky in the morning?” As a morning person, Wanda doesn’t like women who are cranky for no reason in the morning. It’s one of a turn off for her but instead Wanda looks at you and her hand gently pushes away a lock of hair that covers your face a little.

“Because you actually look cute even when you are cranky.” A comment slips out of her, totally opposite of what she always thinks about cranky women in the morning. In her defense, it is just so you will take more bait from her, to make you like her so she can win the bet. 

That’s it, cranky. That word gave you an idea. You need to be cranky right now, hopefully it will scare Wanda away from this arranged marriage thing.

“Yeah, I’m always this cranky every morning. Everything and everybody is annoying to me when I just wake up.” you replied.

“Everybody? Even your future wife?” Wanda chuckles a little and then smiles more, hoping that you will buy her words and thinking that she is okay with how cranky you are.

Her green eyes with that smile got you to choose the wrong response. “Uh yeah, including you.” You put a pretend pout on your face, trying to look upset. 

“Ah, you just agreed to call me your future wife. So I was right, you are onboard with this arranged marriage.” Wanda teases you as she laughs a little.

Wanda’s smile and her little laugh made you forget to act cranky and it got you back on the natural flirtatious banter.

You prompt yourself up and lean your face closer to hers. “Wow, you really want us to get married, don’t you?” You return a question as your answer. Eye contact is locked between the two of you one more time.

“I never say that but I don’t mind if you think that way. Who wouldn’t want to marry you?”

Wanda pauses for a few seconds and gives you a flirtatious smirk shortly before she continues with her words. “I mean, look at you. You are gorgeous, smart, funny and you are a woman who knows what she wants.” Wanda doesn’t realize that the more she observes your face, the deeper she is lost in admiring you. All those compliments that she thought are just her baits to lure you more into her charm flows naturally, perhaps sincerely as well?

Meanwhile, you are flustered and you didn’t realize that warmth was slowly present on your cheeks. You thought to yourself that you are flustered just because Wanda is really good with her words. Oh yes, maybe she does. Or is it something else?

“I think I know who wouldn’t.” You answered and Wanda looked perplexed in your pause.

“You wouldn’t.---” You added, trying to get into her head but before you can even start to mention all the “bad” things about you, her little laughter made its way to be heard again.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Wanda questions you back, she wouldn’t say things about you or things you did that have been driving her crazy. If it wasn’t for the bet she has with Kate, you wouldn’t be here in her bed right now but here you are, with her as her face slowly drifts closer to yours. Again, in her defense, it’s her way to create more sparks in you so you would fall for her.

This time you are out of words to answer her and you don’t know why. The closer her face, the more you lose your words. Your mind and your heart, no..no.. just your mind, running a hundred miles an hour to find an idea to “scare” Wanda away from whatever this is. Your heart is fine, it’s not beating that fast. If anything, it’s just because she is in your personal space and you don’t like that. Yeah, you don’t like that. Or do you?

All of sudden, you let out a fake loud sneeze and that definitely works. Wanda moves back instantly and sits herself up, so do you. You let out another one, and then another one. You pretend to wipe your (actually clean) nose with your bare hand just to gross Wanda out.

“Oh good lord. Uh- are you okay, y/n? Do you need–uh..” Wanda couldn’t hold back her reaction thinking whatever there is in your hand.  Grimace slightly shows on her face as she quickly grabs some tissues.  “Here babe, here.. use this.” She offers you the tissue.

You try hard not to laugh and you continue what you are doing. “Nah, it’s okay, Wands. I’m okay. So where were we? What were we talking about, My snuggle muffin supreme.” You are trying to get Wanda on a morning roller coaster version of you. A loop of your crankiness in one second and then a sudden drop of change to “romantic” baby-talking. You baby-talk her and call her with whatever ridiculous unexpected pet name that came up in your mind.

“Wait, what? Snuggle muffin supreme?” Wanda shows her dislike of your baby-talking and ridiculous pet name. Before she can react more to it, you hold her hand and get your face closer to her followed by the fake sniffles.

Her face goes a few inches away from yours in a second. “Gahh, uh-uh. You know what darling? How-how about you taking a good morning shower, yeah?” Wanda quickly and awkwardly tries to pull her hands out of yours. You are having too much fun with this situation so you slightly tighten your grip just to drive her crazy even more.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I-I’ll go get my clothes for you to borrow.” Wanda pulls her hand away from you as she gets out of the bed. As soon as she is walking to the bathroom to wash her hand, she hears another pet name you call her. It halts her steps.

“What’s wrong, my soft baby dumpling?”

“Soft baby dumpling? What the–?” She mumbles under her breath but still loud enough for you to hear. “Yes, soft baby dumplings. You don’t like the pet name I call you?” You respond.

Wanda realizes that her negative reaction might be too obvious to you. She instantly tried to fix it so it won’t upset you.

“I- I do. I was just confused sweetheart. A few minutes ago you were cranky and now you are all lovey dovey and come up with these stup– cute, yeah cute and creative petnames.” Wanda tries to smile, cursing internally to herself for almost calling your pet names stupid. At the same time, she is bothered by them. You can read it easily from her expression and body language, no matter how hard Wanda tries to hide it. You won’t let this situation go to waste.

“Aw, you think it’s creative? That’s great, Wands!”

“Gr-great? What did you mean?” she smiles in bitterness as her questions flow out of her.

“It means you like the pet names I got you. Don’t worry my wandy-pandy, I will come up with more pet names for you.”

“Wandy-pandy? How did you even come up with all those names?”

Her vague rejection of your ideas followed by her bitter awkward laugh blocked you from answering her. “Uh y/n, darling, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have.”

“I don’t know, I just like giving you pet names, including these two, Roni and Ami. Or maybe Melonie and Coco, babe? ” You continue baby-talking as you slightly lean towards her breasts as if you are talking to them too. 

“Oh, God, no please.” Wanda refuses in a whisper, she rakes her fingers between her hair frustrated. Unfortunately for Wanda, you heard her. 

You dramatically gasp and it made her look down at you.

“Wait, you didn’t like Melonie and Coco because you said yours are not that ridiculously big. Oh I think I remember, you picked Squishy and Squashy.” You rambled.

“What? No, I did not.” She quickly answered but you ignored her answer anyway.

You know Wanda didn’t choose any of those names but you keep going just to make her feel uncomfortable with you.

“I shall call you my Squishy and you shall be my squashy.” You tap each of her breasts as you name them. You are internally struggling to hold a laugh.

Wanda gently bites her own fist to hold back her frustration for a few seconds. She chuckles in disbelief at what’s going on with you. After a few deep breaths, it finally brought her back to her sanity. She smiles half heartedly and lets out her subtle disagreement. “No, y/n. You shall not, okay?” Wanda lowers her voice.

“Oh.” You smile. “Okay.” To her surprise, you quickly agree with her. 

It lures a relief smile on her face but not for long after she hears what you say next. “Then you can tell me the names that you do like babe.” You shrug your shoulders as you respond.

At this point, Wanda nods fast. Too fast.  Just so you can stop this petname / nicknames madness. “Yes, of course. I will. Anything for my future wife.” and she secretly hopes that you will let it go and forget about it.

You beam.

“Great, until then, Roni and Ami it is.” You leave no room for her to disagree with you and you winked at her.

As soon as you see what time it is now, you decide to leave.

“Oh now would you look at the time. I have to go now. I have to go to the office soon.” Wanda temporarily feels relief that you stop talking about the names for her breasts but it is quickly replaced by disappointment because you are leaving.

“What? Aw what about breakfast together first. I can make some for us, so I can spend more time with my wife.” Wanda dislikes cooking because she doesn't like to get her kitchen dirty but for the sake of her bet with Kate, she has to. Or is it really the reason, or it’s her way so she can actually spend more time with you. Only heaven knows, at least for now.

“Aw look at you, being a good wife and will make breakfast for me.” You respond.

“Of course–” Wanda gets interrupted, again.

“Sorry babe, no can do. I have a lot of work to do. You remember how important work is for me, right? Not even my wife or her cooking can change it.” You are back on your mission to remind her how a workaholic you are and definitely not the best choice to be her wife.

“Oh okay, then. I guess, I’ll have to find another way so I can spend more time with you.” You can see a brief sincere disappointed expression shortly before she winks at you finishing her sentences.

“Aw, I’ll see you when I see you. Don’t miss me, okay?.” You gently pinch her cheeks as you baby-talk her again one last time.. 

The baby-talk and how you treat her like a little kid bothers her deeply, all she can do now is swallow her rejections away followed by a long harsh deep breath. Despite all that, Wanda grabs your hand gently to stop you. “Wait y/n.”

Her gentle grip sends a soft electric like wave in you, so soft that it’s quickly replaced with an awkward feeling as you turn around to Wanda. You glance at her hand then back to her. “Yes?”

“Here, wear this. It’s cold outside.” Wanda hands you her hoodie.

“Oh. Y-yeah. Thank you.” You take it and put it on. Wanda looks at you and smiles as she comments, “Look at you, you make a cute wife in that hoodie.”

“Oh really? Whose wife? I’m no one’s wife yet.” You try to be obnoxious with your answer but you know it fails you shortly after you hear Wanda’s quick reply.

“Soon to be mine, of course.” Wanda smirks.

Your own answer betrayed you and now you don’t know why you are speechless. “Gosh, darn it.” You say it to yourself internally.

“You never run out of that confidence, don’t you?” You look annoyed with her answer and her confidence. Were you really annoyed with her confidence? Or Were you annoyed with how much Wanda’s words got you? No, no. You are annoyed that you are in this arranged marriage tangled web.

You try to cover however you look right now by looking away and checking on your watch. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize the time. I better go now. I can’t be late for work.”

At this point, you are just trying to get out of here.You are running out of ideas to scare her away for right now.

“Okay, okay.” Wanda finally agreed.

______

Wanda walks you out to your car. You don’t realize just yet that you are comfortably wrapping your arm around hers. What you know is you are doing it as a strategy, showing clinginess.

As you both are close to your car, Wanda slides her arm away from yours and turns to you a little.

Wanda fix the hoodie and gently fix your hair. Comfortable silence creeps up very slowly between you, with some birds tweeting in the background, celebrating the rain has stopped.

“This hoodie is so warm and smells like you.” You comment. Wanda softly chuckles and tucks your hair behind your ear..“You are silly. Bring it back, okay?”

“Or what?” You try to say it in an annoying tone as if you are challenging her while looking at her eyes. This time both of you and Wanda don’t realize that your faces are drifting closer toward each other. Wanda’s eyes flicks from your eyes to your lips then back to your eyes

“Or I’ll come get it.” She says in nearly a whisper. Wanda flirts naturally yet there is an unnamed difference that subtly touches her heart. 

Your heart stutters and makes you choose your word poorly. “Promise?”

Wanda nods, “I always keep my promise.”

Her words bring you back to realization of how close your faces are to each other. You always keep your promise and you like people who keep their words.

You pull your face away from her. Clearing your throat. Wanda drags her attention away from what just happened. She quickly reaches your car door handle before you do. She smiles as she opens it. Warmth feels her heart but it was too soon distracted by the presence of her neighbour that waves her. You and Wanda wave back at the sweet old man.

You see your chance and without a doubt you will take it. You have one last idea for right now.

You get into your car and buckle up. Wanda leans down a little with her arms.  “Let me know when you get there safely, yeah?” She requests with genuine care.

“I will.”

You pull out of her drive way. As you drive away and pass Wanda’s neighbor, you honk your car a couple times then you scream  “Bye bye, my blushing boobery!”  and wave at Wanda.

Wanda’s eyes rounded with shock with what you just did. She waves awkwardly and then quickly looks at your neighbor who already looks at her and laughs a little. She laughs dryly.

“She is a cheerful and silly one. Isn’t she?” The man comments, his expression doesn’t look unamused at all.

“I’m sorry. Mr. Kleezak.” Wanda responds with an apology.

“Oh, please Wanda. Don’t be. Sometimes we need that cheerfulness and silliness in our life. She reminds me of my wife when I first met her, and I’m a serious one but somehow that was what made me fall in love with her. She has changed me since then.” The man shares his wise advice and story in a very friendly way.

Wanda smiles, “That’s...nice.”

“It is. I've been a happier man since I met her. Well, I'm going in now. Have a good day, Wanda.”

“You too, Mr. Kleezak.”

The gentleman’s statement gets into Wanda’s head without even realizing it but the smile that was formed on her face says it all. His words follow her longer than she expected.

Wanda doesn’t go back inside right away.She stands by the front door, one hand still resting on the handle..

She exhales.

That should have been the end of it. A successful night. Another step closer to winning the bet. Instead of all that, she feels a tightness in her chest. Something that Wanda thinks it’s irritating and unnecessary.

Wanda checks her phone to distract herself but a notification sits on her phone screen.

Reminder: Engagement Planning Call — Friday, 3:00 PM.

Wanda frowns immediately. Too immediately.

She can’t recall that she set that reminder but of course she did. Being an organized woman as she is, Wanda always plans ahead of time. She likes order, timelines and control.

She stares at the words longer than she needs to.

Something about it annoys her.

The thought of people discussing the engagement arrangement and discussing you as if it’s already decided feels… premature. Invasive. Like they’re stepping into something that hasn’t finished unfolding yet. It ‘s too soon for Wanda.

She taps the screen to dismiss the reminder, a little harder than necessary.

Why does that bother her?

It shouldn’t. This is exactly how things are supposed to go to win the bet. Wanda wants her plan to go towards this direction. It’s efficient and predictable.

Yet, the thought that replaces the reminder isn’t the engagement or her parents’ expectations.

It’s you. The memories of you barefoot in her hallway, wearing her shirt like it belongs to you, calling her ridiculous names and smiling like none of it is a joke are parading vividly in her mind..

Wanda clenches her jaw and shakes her head as if she’s trying to make the memories go away for good.

No. No. No. No. This is just the bet. This is just momentum. Nothing else. That was the pep talk she gave to herself.

She opens the door and walks back inside, closing it quietly behind her.

“Five more days, Wanda.”  She whispers to herself.

But for the first time since this all started, the number of days doesn’t feel reassuring.

It feels… limited.

_______

Meanwhile you, driving home and smiling. You are sure that you are still in control and everything you did to Wanda will work.

Thinking that Wanda will finally call off the engagement instead of you so you won’t get in trouble with your parents, you can say that you are pretty content. Yeah, that’s what you want. Those content feelings slowly go out of the window a few seconds after you are stopped by a red light. The silence was long enough to wake up your senses.

The warmth from Wanda’s hoodie that was forgotten earlier, came back. Wanda’s scent on that hoodie evokes your sense of smell. Like a chain reaction that was obviously unwanted by you, your mind starts to replay Wanda’s smile, her eyes that you weirdly and comfortably lost into sometimes and most of all, her laughter that’s contagious to you.

You tell yourself it’s just because Wanda is good at charm,  good at making a path to anyone’s heart. No no no no. Not to your heart, but to any girls’ heart. Yeah that’s what it is. Wanda is used to doing all this. You tackle it defensively.

A thought invades your mind and abruptly replaces all those nice things about Wanda.Now you’re wondering why Wanda hasn’t shown any sign of calling off the engagement. Why Wanda still put up with all the craziness and unhinged things you did? This is taking longer than it should. You run through everything you’ve already done, and realize none of it has changed the timeline. What is going on?

All these Why and What running around in your mind.

Thoughts came up and clicked into place, simple and efficient.

A short honk from the car behind you startles you. The light is green.

You turn on the music a little louder than usual as if it can help your brain to move on to think about what you should do next.

_____

It was a busy morning for you as soon as you got to the office. Just like usual, you easily sunk into the wave of paperwork or reports and even had a meeting or two.

Your phone has been untouched since you got there. As you are reviewing a report, your phone’s notification cuts through the silence.. It took a half minute for you to find your phone under all those documents.

Your focus abruptly stopped by Wanda’s text. 

“You made it to work safely?”  Wanda asked. Your body reacts before your brain does that makes your chest soften and your lips almost curve into a smile.

Oh. That was..nice. It was the first thing that came to your mind after you read her text. 

“Darn it, I should’ve texted her..” You said it under your breath. You are betrayed by your own body. Your heart beats faster. You got warm fuzzy feelings.

Okay. Maybe she was just being polite. Anybody would check. Your brain tells you instantly as soon as you get warm fuzzy feelings. You take a deep breath and then exhale before you reply. You don’t even know why you do that before replying to her text.

Your fingers move too quickly typing your reply. “Yeah, just got in. All good!”

Then you put your phone down and a little away from you. “Okay, where were we? Oh yeah, I gotta review this proposal.” You talk to yourself trying to get your mind back to work.

_____

It’s lunch time. You have been keeping yourself busy with work since you replied to Wanda's text. To you, it’s efficient. You like to get busy at work anyway plus you can get a lot of things done. So it’s a win win for you.

You heard a knock on your office door.

“Come in.” You answer. You know it’s the sisters. Natasha wanted to bring you some food that she cooked, so you decided to have lunch with them in your office.

Natasha and Yelena walk in.

“Hey.” You glance up real quick while you are finishing one last thing on a document. “I hope you haven’t eaten anything because I brought a bunch of food here for you to try.” Natasha starts a conversation as she puts a few boxes of food on to the other table in your office.

You get up and walk towards the sisters. “Oh yeah, I haven’t eaten anything since morning. What you got there?”

“Yeah, I hope you are not Wanda's vegan future wife right now, because Nat cooks different kinds of meat dishes.” Yelena teases.

By the time you try to check what’s in the boxes, Yelena notices something then stops your hands. “Wait.”

“What?” Confused, you asked right away. Yelena ignores your question and alerts her sister. “Nat. look.”

“What’s going on?” You asked one more time. Your gaze bounces between them two. Natasha looks up to check what yelena wants her to see. In a half second, Natasha notices the same thing Yelena did.

“That’s not yours. Is that new?” Natasha asked. Yelena laughs. “I knew I was right.

“What? What are you talking about?” You return her question with yours and you look behind you to check if Natasha asked something that is behind you.

“The hoodie, dumbass. We know that’s not yours. Is that Wanda’s?” Yelena explains then asks with a laugh.

“What hoo--die? Oh?” You are half way with your question but then your voice fades slowly as you realize that you are still wearing Wanda’s comfy hoodie.

You pause a little but it was enough for them to know that they are right.

Your mind rapidly tries to find answers, or perhaps excuses so they won’t tease you more about it.

“Wow, y/n. You are wearing Wanda’s hoodie now. Or should I call you Mrs. Maximoff?” Yelena teases you and bursts out laughing shortly after that. Natasha laughs with her sister.

“I assume that you are getting comfortable with Wanda as much as you are comfortable wearing her hoodie?” Natasha lightly teases you but for sure there is a pinch of seriousness in it.

You roll your eyes at them.

“Relax girls. It’s just a hoodie.” You retort.

“It’s a very good hoodie. A little bigger and it smells like her. Maybe that’s why you like wearing it.” Yelena comments while she examines it at the same time and takes a little sniff just to tease you more.

“What? How do you know it smells like her? And no I don’t.” You deny Yelena’s word.

“Well, it doesn’t smell like your perfume.” Yelena answers.

“Why are you wearing her hoodie?” Natasha asks and gives a knowing smile.

“Because she likes her.” Yelena answers with a sing-song tone.

“Oh shut up, Lena. You are over reacting. I wore it because I was doing what we planned, you know, coming to Wanda’s place soaking wet to make a mess there. She washed my clothes and she let me borrow hers. Nothing big.”

“Sure sure. Does Wanda not have a dryer or something? That's why your clothes are still wet this morning, hence the hoodie?” Yelena poke more fun out of you.

Natasha says nothing but smiling.

“What, Natty? What’s on your mind now?” You turn your head to the redhead and ask her in a sarcastic tone.

“Oh nothing. You always bring extra clothes for emergencies. Either in your car or in your drawer here.” Natasha answers you with her thoughts shortly before she opens the drawer that she meant to show your spare clothes.

“Oh! Busted!” Yelena laughs because she knows Nat is right. You got quiet for a split second. You know Natasha was right about you always having extra clothes. In your defense, it was just practical and you even forgot about it.

“Oh my gosh!” Frustration clearly shows on your face.

“It’s just a hoodie. It’s warm and I got busy with work as soon as I got here. I don’t even remember wearing this stupid hoodie. Come on girls. It’s not like I’m wearing a wedding ring.”

“Okay okay. I was just saying, You look very.. Domestic.” Yelena defends herself.

You grab one of the food boxes and flip the lid open. You give them a death stare. “Are we eating or conducting a fashion interrogation?”.The girls are still looking at you, trying their best to hold their laughter.

“MmHmm” yelena hum with a teasing smile.

You shoot her a look. “I swear to God, Lena, I will throw this meat dish at you.”

Natasha hums, already unpacking plates.

“Please don’t. I worked very hard on that.”

You sit down, hoodie still on, and pointedly change the subject.

“So. What exactly did you put in this one?”

“This one is similar to the one that I brought you two days ago but I added lemongrass and bayleaves. That’s why it smells different.” Natasha explains with excitement.

“Oh? That’s the dish that I liked the most last time? It smells better actually.” You took a bite, enjoying the flavor of it and the sisters started eating their lunch as well.

A short comfortable silence comes between the three of you. Wanda’s scent from the hoodie dominates the air again.  It reminds you that you are relieved that Natasha and Yelena finally let go of the hoodie theory they have. You didn’t know why their jokes about it bothers you, it’s just a hoodie for crying out loud. Nothing big, nothing special. It was a cold morning, any nice and thoughtful person will do the same. Just like Wanda.

Your brain takes over, nudging the plan you came up with this morning back to the front of your mind. Sooner is better.

“Hey Nat, about Wanda’s party, let’s move it a day later than it was planned.” You broke the silence with your idea.

“What? Why?”

“Practical. It just makes more sense.” You shrug your shoulders and take a sip of your water.

“Does Wanda know?” Natasha asks and this time she sounds a little more serious.

“No. I’ll…” Before you can finish your answer, Yelena cuts you off after she connects the dots.

“Ah, I think I know why, Nat. You did it without telling Wanda, control freak move, right?” Excitement shows in her tone.

You hum in agreement, eyes on your food. Natasha notices something from you. She has been your best friend since you were kids, she knows you like the back of her hand. You might not realize that you avoid eye contacts with them, but Natasha does.

“That’s genius, y/n. Wanda wouldn’t like it.” Yelena raises her hand up for a high five with you.

“Yeah,I have a meeting tomorrow morning so it’s a win win. Works better for me. I’ll take care of it”

“Okay,” Natasha says after a beat. “If you say so.”

The three of you continue with your lunch and catch up with everything that happened yesterday.

___

Time slowly passes by today. You are still keeping yourself busy with work stuff even with the ones that don't need to be done today.

Wanda? After having the call engagement planning call, she occupied herself by playing some golf with James and Kate at the country club.

Wanda lets the TV run, using the noise to keep her mind from settling. Suddenly the doorbell announces a visitor at the door.

Wanda pauses.

For a brief, irrational seconds, her mind reaches for you, as a presence. As if you might come by. As if that would make sense.

Well, it doesn’t.

She exhales while correcting herself because she would have remembered if you said anything that you would come by.

She quickly walks to the door to answer it. Her hand lingers on the doorknob half a beat longer than necessary.

“You left these.” Kate holds up Wanda’s golf gloves as soon as the door opens. James stands behind Kate and smiles at Wanda.

Wanda looks surprised, “I did?”

James notices the surprise on her face but chooses not to say anything about it just yet.

“Uh d’uh? It’s burgundy and it has W.M on it. This is yours.” Kate hands it to Wanda. “Thanks, Kate.”

“Can we come in? Or your future wife’s here?” Kate teases and tries to peek inside.

“Huh? Oh, y-yeah. Come on in. She’s not here.” Wanda walks to the living rooms, Kate and James follow her.

“Oh, so you admit that she is your future wife.” Kate teases her more.

“Quit it, Bishop.” Wanda drops on her couch as if she had a long day today.

“You okay?” James asks Wanda with concern.

“Yeah, why?” Wanda raises one of her eyebrows.

“Well, you left us early at the club and you forgot your glove. You don’t usually do that. You like your things organized. I know you.” James states his answer.

“I’m okay. How was the game after I left?” Her question follows her answer.

“It was good. I won.” James answers with a teasing smile at Kate.

“Heey, that was because my swing wasn’t like usual. I don’t know why.” Kate retorts playfully.

“Good thing for you that I didn’t accept the bet you want us to do today.” James laughed a little.

“Ooh speaking of bets” Kate grins. Tiktok, Wanda. Five days left.” This is so much fun to Kate that she is fine whether she wins the bet or not.

“Everything’s under control, I’m still on track. So you better prepare your speech, Kate.”.

“Well, I think we should get going. Emma is waiting for me at home and I still have to drop Kate home. I’ll see you at your party.” James stands up and gets ready to leave.

“Oh yeah, your birthday party. Can’t wait for it. See you, Maximoff.” Kate’s steps follow James’

“I’m not gonna walk you two out, just make sure the door’s closed when you leave.” Wanda leans her head back onto the couch, eyes closed and her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose.

Not too long after they left, her phone rings. Her hand reaches for it immediately. As soon as she sees your name on the screen without a second thought she answers it.

“Hello.”

“Hey Wands.” Wanda doesn’t realize that her smile subtly showed up when she hears you call her name. Her shoulders ease a fraction and the tension from the day loosens.

“Hi y/n. Everything okay?

“Yeah.” You pause, just a beat too long before reminding yourself why you called.

“Busy?” Wanda asks

“Yeah but I got most of it done.” You answered and Wanda lets you talk patiently.

“Anyway.. quick update about your birthday party, I moved it a day later.” You announced.

Your question reminds her about her party. Yeah, Wanda’s mind has been so occupied that she even forgot her own birthday party. “So the day after tomorrow?” Wanda pauses You are ready for her objection but her next words surprise you.

“Okay. Just send me the updated timeline.” You hadn’t expected that. You keep your voice steady anyway.

“Don’t worry. I already took care of everything.” You are still in disbelief with what’s going on right now but you still compose yourself as you talk.

“Thank you.” Wanda smiles anyway. You hear it in her voice when she chuckles softly and that makes you tell yourself that you have to end the call now. “Alright. I gotta go.”

“Okay. Bye darling.”

“Bye, Wanda.”

Wanda lowers her phone down slowly. She doesn’t put it down right away.

The room feels quieter than it did before the call.

Pt. 7

A/n: Welp, thats it for today! Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

She grinned as it landed lopsided on your head, covering up most of your right eye. You laughed and fixed it. “Okay. Dress it is.” 

The smile on her face was priceless. You’d wear a garbage bag if it meant Wanda would be pleased. She was so stressed and tired most of the time that any time that smile was on her face, you did whatever you could to keep it there for as long as possible. 

In a few steps, she closed the distance between the two of you, placing her hand on your waist, just above where your hip bone ended. Her soft lips were on yours in an instant, the kiss soft but needy. You reached a hand up and threaded it through her strawberry blonde hair. It had gotten so long recently, and you just loved running your fingers through the soft strands. Wanda loved it, too, as she sighed into your mouth whenever you touched it. 

Her hands wandered over to the strings tying your bikini bottoms to your hips, about to begin pulling the left side apart. 

You broke the kiss, but kept your forehead pressed to hers, your lips still faintly touching. “We’re never going to get out of here and go on our date if you start that.” 

Wanda paused for a moment, but it was barely a second. “So?” 

Laughing, you pressed a gentle, loving kiss to her lips. “So, we need to have a nice beach day, like we’ve been planning for months, Wand.” 

She sighed, pretending to be upset, though you could see from the glimmer in her eyes that she wasn’t genuinely upset. “Okay, but you owe me when we get home.” Punctuated with a classic Wanda Maximoff wink-and-smirk, of course. 

“I’ll make it up to you.” You grinned, fixing her hair with your fingers, running through it. Wanda bit her lip, leaning forward quickly and pecking your lips again. You looked at her in shock, not prepared for the kiss. Your girlfriend had a light pink dusting on her cheeks, like she’d got caught with her hand in the candy jar. You laughed loudly. Wanda Maximoff may have acted all confident, but at the end of the day, she was just a girl who couldn’t resist blushing after kissing her girlfriend. 

You pulled the knitted dress over your head and grabbed the matching hat that had fallen on the floor at some point during the kiss. With your sandals already on, you grabbed Wanda’s hand. “Ready to go?” 

She nodded, and the two of you headed to the car and began the drive to the beach. 

The half-hour drive ended as Wanda parked the car. It was the beach you’d had your second date over a year ago. There was a fountain in the middle of a little courtyard right before the sand. Multiple bathrooms were around it, along with some small food stands that cost way too much. The fountain was gorgeous, though, and you’d always loved it, and the birds that hung out around it. Before heading to the sand with your towels, Wanda grabbed your hand and guided you over to the edge of the fountain, finding the bench closest to it. 

In the bag you’d packed for the beach, you’d made two sandwiches for yourselves, which she pulled out and placed between the two of you. You noticed she packed two extra pieces of plain bread. 

“What’s that for?” you asked, brows furrowed. 

Wanda grinned like she’d won the lottery. She landed you a slice. “For the birds.” 

Your expression softened into one of pure love. She’d noticed everything about you—of course. You loved the birds, and you loved feeding them. She still remembered the last time you’d come here together, where you ran out of bread very quickly and couldn’t feed the birds much. You were very bummed out, and it seemed Wanda was determined not to have that happen again this time. 

“You know me so well.” 

Wanda cupped your cheek in her palm, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, and then your lips. “I know I do.” 

You giggled, and then the two of you began tearing little bits off of the slices of bread and tossing them to the birds, who were eagerly waiting on the edge of the fountain. They immediately got to eating the moment the first chunk of bread landed in front of them. 

Wanda pointed out two little birds, who were clearly born not long ago. The mother bird was right in front of them, tearing the tiny pieces into even tinier pieces for her babies to eat. You cooed at how adorable it was. “They’re such a cute little family.” 

“God I feel like I’m dying,” you say to nobody as you blow your nose into the tissue you’re currently holding. It quickly becomes a gross, soggy mess, but your nose is still as full as it was before.

You had woken up with a cough and you didn’t think much of it, but as the day went on you just kept feeling worse and worse. Now you were in bed with a cough, sore throat, shivers, stuffy nose, and stuffy ears. You must’ve caught Sam’s cold.

“Damn you Sam,” you think as you start to hack up a lung. You cough and cough, over and over again. By the time it finally stops, you’re left trying to catch your breath.

“Are you okay, detka?” Wanda asks as she walks into the room. She must’ve heard you.

“I will be once I kill Sam for giving me his cold,” you say before another coughing fit hits you.

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better,” Wanda asks. She sits down next to you on the bed and brushes some hair out of your face.

“Could you kill Sam for me?” you ask, voice filled with hope that she’ll say yes.

“You know I can’t do that detka. How about I make you the tea my mother used to make? It always helped me when I was sick.”

“That sounds great, Wan. Thank you,” you say, hoping this tea soothes your sore throat.

“Of course darling. Anything to make you feel better,” Wanda says she lightly kisses your forehead before she leaves to go make you some tea.

She comes back a few minutes later, cup in hand, as she carefully makes her way towards you. She also holds some sort of cold medicine in the other hand.

“Here you go love,” Wanda says as she hands you the mug. You take a sip and it is the best thing you’ve ever tasted, plus it was soothing to your throat, coating it and leaving it feeling much better.

“Thank you Wanda. This is heavenly,” you say as you continue to drink the tea. You drink until it is all again and then hand your girlfriend the empty cup.

“I’m glad you liked it. Do you need anything else darling?” Wanda ask. She was always so attentive. It was one thing you love about her.

“No baby I’m fine. I just really need a nap right now,” you say. You lean backwards into the pillows behind you and pull your blankets up to your chin, trying to get as cozy and warm as possible. Your eyes are almost closed when you feel someone slide into bed with you.

“Wanda what are you doing?” you ask.

“I’m taking a nap with you,” she responds back as if the answer is obvious.

“But I don’t wanna get you sick.” You try to look serious, truly not wanting to get her sick, but your expression looks more like a pout than stern.

“You won’t get me sick love,” Wanda dismisses your concerns. “Being here for you is much more important than worrying about me getting sick.”

“Fine, but if I get you sick just know it’s not my fault,” you jokingly say, relaxing your body against Wanda. “But seriously Wanda, thank you for taking care of me.”

“Of course baby. Now go to sleep and wake me up if you need anything else,” Wanda says. She pulls you closer to her when she notices you shivering. Her body heat warms you up and you relax against her, content to fall asleep and let her hold you.

“I will, I love you.”