you’re not desperate. unless you count ordering the same thing every day because of a pretty girl as desperate. because then you might be.
word count: 2.2k ish
warnings: fluff. gay panic
a/n: i think we all need more coffee shop au’s in our lives. also welcome to my first official marvel fic hehe.
You’re hit with the pungent smell of coffee as soon as the door opens, and your nose involuntarily wrinkles in disgust. Coming here wasn’t your idea. You had been on your way to the library with Carol when she spotted the coffee shop, quietly tucked away in a corner. And Carol, always needing a caffeine fix, had excitedly dragged you with her, raving the entire time about some new drink she had wanted to try.
“Come on Y/n! You’re blocking the doorway!”
Carol’s voice and shove pushes you into the coffee shop, and you crane your neck back to smile apologetically at the elderly couple who were standing behind you.
The shop itself has a cozy feel to it, string lights hanging from wall to wall and soft jazz playing in the background. If you googled “coffee shop”, something that looked similar would probably come up.
You make your way absentmindedly to the counter, tagging along behind Carol who was currently placing her order. You take the time to read all the signs on the walls, with no intention of getting anything yourself when Carol punches your arm.
“Hey! What was that for?!”
“You were spacing out.” Carol jerks her head towards the counter. “The barista’s asking if you want anything.”
You start to answer. “No I’m goo-“ The rest of your statement dies in your throat when you look up.
Your eyes meet her green ones and everything else fades away. You notice how her auburn hair falls messily out of her bun, how her lips are slightly parted, and you honestly think the barista just might be the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen.
The girl’s cheeks are slightly pink when she asks, “Sorry what was that?”.
You hear her accent, and it takes everything for you to not melt then and there. What was it? Russian? Eastern European for sure but my god it was pretty. Thirty seconds or so seem to have gone by when you realize you’re probably staring and that she’s expecting an answer. You clear your throat.
“I- um-“ You start to panic. “What do you have?”
The girl looks a little surprised at the question. “Um- well we make pretty much anything that’s on that menu back there” She gestures to the giant chalkboard behind her.
Your cheeks flush slightly in embarrassment. “Right um-“ You squint and read the board, panicking slightly at the unfamiliar words written there. You end up saying the first thing you see. “I’ll um- take a flat…white?” Your answer comes out as more of a question, and it makes the girl in front of you giggle slightly.
“Are you sure?”
You nod quickly. “Y-yup I uh- love flat whites.” You grimace internally at that.
The girl just smiles, writing down your order and you take this as a chance to compose yourself. Your deep breath is cut short when she speaks again.
“Can I get your name?”
You almost fall over. “S-sorry w-what?”
“I need your name” She pauses, specifying. “For the order.”
You want to slap yourself. “Oh- yeah right- of course- Y/n.” You cut yourself short to free yourself of your bumbling.
“Well, Y/n, I’ll have that ready in just a few minutes.”
You smile and nod, your face burning like it’s never had before.
When you step away from the counter, you turn and you see Carol grinning like the biggest idiot ever.
Your face flushes more if possible. “Please don’t say anything-“
Carol cuts you off. “I promise I totally won’t share your gay disaster story with all of our friends later.”
You groan. “You’re terrible.”
Your conversation stops when you hear your name, the barista holding your cup of coffee in hand. You reach for it almost hesitantly, the cup almost slipping when your fingers accidentally brush hers. Your face burns as you mumble a thank you, and when you hear her accented “Have a nice day Y/n”, you try your best not to pass out.
You somehow manage to make it out of the shop in one piece, and the whole way to the library, you try to ignore Carol’s relentless teasing and barking laughter.
~~
You come back a week later.
It’s early in the morning so the line is quite long, and it gives you the perfect time to rehearse what you’re going to say. I think I need a map because I’m getting lost in your eyes. Dammit Y/n that’s not going to cut it.
Your brain is racking up ideas and you’re trying to figure out how to explain that you really hate coffee when it’s your turn to order.
Your heart is pounding and you open your mouth to speak but close it quickly when you see that she’s not the one taking your order. Behind the counter this time is a rather tall and attractive man with slicked back silver hair and you can’t believe you didn’t think about work schedules.
You debate whether or not to leave when you hear a familiar voice coming from behind the guy.
“Wait Pietro I’m gonna get this next order.”
The guy turns and looks back and forth between the two of you and smirks, turning around to say something in another language you didn’t understand. He laughs when he’s shoved softly and moves to the side to reveal the same girl from yesterday.
Seeing her makes everything that you’ve rehearsed disappear. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but she beats you to it.
“Let me guess, same thing as last time Miss Flat White Lover?”
She smiles playfully when she says it, and she looks so pretty even in the crappy coffee shop lighting that all you can do is smile back and nod.
You try to play it off though. “Y-yeah of course. Wouldn’t want anything else.” The barista smiles at you as she grabs a cup. “I’m Wanda by the way.” The name makes you smile. Wanda. Pretty name for a pretty girl you think.
“Oh- thanks.” Wanda’s cheeks are pink.
Your cheeks flush red in mortification as you realize what you did. “Did I say that out loud?”. Your face burns more when she nods. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“
She saves you from your misery. “Don’t worry. It’s okay, I honestly could say the same about you.” Your knees go a little weak at that. It’s shouldn’t be possible for your face to get any more red, but it does.
“Um- Well, Y/n, I’ll have it ready at the end over there for you.” You nod and step back from the counter, risking another glance back at Wanda, who unhelpfully meets your gaze and smiles at you.
You tell yourself you’re being normal.
Normal people come back to coffee shops. Normal people smile at baristas. Normal people definitely do not replay a stranger’s voice in their head on loop for a week straight, or practice pickup lines in the mirror, or order a drink they hate just because a pretty girl remembered it.
So you’re being normal.
You wait near the end of the counter like Wanda told you to, hands shoved into the sleeves of your jacket to keep yourself from fidgeting. Pietro, because apparently his name is Pietro, shoots you a knowing look as he passes by with another drink, eyebrow quirking upward like he’s in on some joke you weren’t aware existed.
You pretend not to notice.
You watch Wanda instead.
She moves easily behind the counter, comfortable in the space, sleeves pushed up slightly as she works. There’s a rhythm to the way she makes drinks, confident, practiced, and you find yourself smiling without realizing it. Every so often, she glances over at you, and every time she does, your stomach flips unpleasantly and pleasantly all at once.
You look away first every time.
When your drink is finally ready, Wanda calls your name softly, like it’s something she’s testing out.
“Y/n.”
You swear it sounds different when she says it.
You walk over, heart pounding, and take the cup from her. This time, you’re careful not to brush her fingers, even though a small part of you is disappointed when you don’t.
“Thanks,” you say, and then immediately panic because that sounds too abrupt. “I mean, thank you.”
She laughs quietly. “You’re welcome.”
There’s a brief pause. One of those moments where it feels like something should be said, but neither of you knows what yet.
Wanda tilts her head slightly. “So… how is it?”
You glance down at the cup in your hands. The flat white. Your nemesis.
“It’s great,” you lie, forcing a smile.
She squints at you, unconvinced. “You don’t sound very sure.”
You freeze. She knows. Somehow, impossibly, she knows.
“I—” You sigh, shoulders slumping. “Okay. Confession. I actually don’t like coffee.”
Her eyes widen. “You don’t?”
You shake your head. “I think it tastes… burnt. And bitter. And kind of like regret.”
She stares at you for half a second before laughing, full and unrestrained, and the sound does something warm and dangerous to your chest.
“Then why do you keep ordering it?”
You hesitate, then shrug helplessly. “Because… it was the first thing I saw. And you looked really nice. And my brain stopped working.”
Her smile softens at that. “You know, we make other things too.”
“I figured,” you say weakly.
“What do you actually like?”
You think for a moment. “Tea. Sweet stuff. Hot chocolate. Things that don’t hate me.”
Wanda nods thoughtfully. “Next time, I’ll make you something better.”
Next time.
The words echo in your head, bright and hopeful.
“I’d like that,” you say quietly.
Another pause. This one lingers a little longer.
“Well,” Wanda says, glancing over her shoulder as someone calls for her attention, “I should probably get back to work.”
“Yeah. Of course. Sorry.” You step back quickly, almost tripping over your own feet.
She smiles again. “It was nice seeing you, Y/n.”
“You too,” you blurt out, then wince. “I mean — seeing you too.”
She laughs softly as you retreat, dignity hanging by a thread.
You don’t go to the library that day.
Instead, you sit on a bench outside the coffee shop, nursing your drink and pretending it doesn’t taste awful while replaying every second of the interaction in your head.
~~
You come back the next day.
And the day after that.
Sometimes Wanda is there. Sometimes she isn’t. On the days she is, she always smiles when she sees you. On the days she isn’t, Pietro takes your order with a smug grin and asks if you’re “waiting for someone.”
You deny it every time.
Eventually, Wanda stops asking if you’re sure about the flat white.
Eventually, she starts making you something else without even asking.
The first time she hands you a cup of hot chocolate instead, she watches your face carefully as you take a sip.
Your eyes widen. “Oh. Oh wow.”
She beams. “Better?”
“So much better.”
“Good,” she says, like that was important to her.
One morning, when the shop is quieter than usual, she leans across the counter a little closer to you.
“You come here a lot,” she says lightly.
You swallow. “Yeah.”
“Is it for the drinks?” she teases.
You meet her eyes, heart pounding. “I think we both know it’s not.”
Her smile falters — just slightly — before returning, warmer than before.
“Good,” she says.
Your routine becomes a thing.
You show up around the same time. Wanda makes your drink. Sometimes you talk about nothing-- books, the weather, the terrible jazz playlist that seems to be on permanent rotation. Sometimes you just stand there in comfortable silence, exchanging small smiles.
One morning, you notice a book tucked under the counter.
“Is that… The Bell Jar?” you ask.
Wanda’s eyes light up. “You’ve read it?”
“Yeah,” you say. “It ruined me emotionally.”
She laughs. “Same.”
From then on, books become a topic. She recommends you novels. You bring up ones you’ve loved. Once, you come in holding a copy of her favorite book, and she looks at you like you’ve given her something precious.
Carol notices, of course.
“You’re in love,” she declares one afternoon, sipping her iced coffee.
“I am not.”
“You literally rearranged your class schedule so you could come here in the mornings.”
“That was a coincidence.”
“You don’t even like coffee.”
You glare at her. She grins.
It happens on a rainy afternoon.
The shop is nearly empty, the windows fogged up, rain tapping softly against the glass. You’re lingering longer than usual, half-finished drink in your hands.
Wanda dries her hands on a towel and looks over at you.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.”
She hesitates, then takes a breath. “Do you… want to go out sometime?”
Your brain short-circuits.
“Like.. out out,” she clarifies quickly. “Not here. Somewhere else. With me.”
You stare at her for a second, then smile so hard your cheeks hurt.
“I’d really like that.”
Her shoulders relax, relief washing over her face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She grins. “Good. Because Pietro was getting tired of watching me pine.”
“Pine?” you repeat.
She laughs. “You should hear the things he says about you.”
You blush. “I’m scared to ask.”
She scribbles something down on a napkin and slides it across the counter.
“My number,” she says softly. “In case you want to… you know.”
You tuck it into your pocket like it’s something sacred.
“I’ll text you,” you promise.
“I hope so.”
As you leave the shop, rain-soaked and smiling, you realize something important.
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i wanna be somebody (somebody to you) | series masterlist | w. maximoff
summary: it only took a snap of fingers for your life to change forever - costing not only everything that you built with your wife, Wanda Maximoff, but your marriage itself. now, ten years later, there's a chance for a fresh start between you and Wanda; but how do you fix what's been broken for so long?
series warning (+18): mentions of smut, smut, mentions of smoking, smoking, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of underage sex, drinking, canon typical violence, cursing, so much angst, mentions of parental abandonment, PTSD, survivor guilt, mentions of death, mental health issues as a whole.
Summary: A chaotic and disastrous weekend with your lovely family and group of friends has some issues: Steve Rogers should not be left to take care of the accommodation, everyone has lost their jobs and Wanda is a very jealous wife. || Based on a Brazilian movie.
Warnings: (+16) attempt at humor, chaotic domesticity, lots of cuteness and jokes, established relationship, mentions and innuendo of smut and mentions of homemade artificial insemination, explicit language (cursing) || Words: 6.004k
A/N: I was talking to abimess about the lack of Brazilian representation in basically everything, and she had the brilliant idea of a special collection with stories with a Brazilian Reader. However, none of us would have the time to do it, still, I plan to write some loose stories about it. This story for example is based on a very famous Brazilian comedy film, hope you all like it.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |
--//--
Being an adult usually had only two meanings: Not having the time or not having money. And both could happen simultaneously.
Yet, with the mass resignation of the Bishop Security Company after the owner's exposure of felony evasion, you and your co-workers and closest friends, Maria Hill and Steve Rogers, decided that the insurance money would be a good opportunity to have decent summer vacation for once in your life.
Convincing your wife would be the tricky part.
"Absolutely not." Wanda spoke with an indignant expression as soon as you finished counting. "We need to save money, Y/N. You still haven't received any feedback on the resumes you sent out, and we're not going to waste our savings because Rogers wants to have beers on the beach." Wanda declared seriously, but at that moment, the twins were coming down the stairs, and Tommy let out an excited exclamation.
"Are we going to the beach?"
"No, Tommy-"
But if there was one thing Wanda had a problem doing, it was saying no to her boys' puppy dog eyes - and coupled with your kisses - she rolled her eyes and eventually agreed.
So, you left New York in a pickup truck with your family headed for the seashore.
"Who took care of the lodging?" Wanda asked from the passenger seat - she looked, in your humble opinion, stunning in her sunglasses.
You turned down the radio a little to answer her.
"Steve. He said something about an old friend who had a boat and a beach house." You answer and Wanda hums in agreement, half distracted with her cell phone. You look through the rearview mirror at the twins, also focused on electronic devices, and sigh. "You know, it would be nice if we tried to disconnect a little from the Internet this holiday, don't you guys think?"
No one even hears your question, and you roll your eyes before turning the radio back up.
You stayed on the road for almost three hours because of the traffic, but everyone was very pleased when the sea became visible. The joy lasted only for the next 20 minutes.
"Are you sure we are at the right address?" Wanda asked with a grimace as soon as you parked the car in front of an old gate, a considerable amount of moss covering the bricks, and grass growing everywhere.
You were equally confused, and got out of the car with some hesitation, looking around. It was a somewhat isolated area from the rest of the houses, but the yard led to the beach. From the beam of the gate you could see that there was also a swimming pool.
Taking your cell phone, you dialed Steve's number while your family waited in the car - Wanda leaned into the back seat to calm the twins who were already starting to get restless.
"Rogers, I think we missed the entrance or something. Are you here yet?"
"No, I'm about ten minutes away. Send me your location and I'll pick you up."
But apparently, you were in the right place. And when Steve Rogers parked his car next to yours, you were just as annoyed as Wanda.
"You said you were going to take care of the lodging!" You accused the blond who held up his hands in surrender.
"Hey, I said I knew the owner, that's different!" He defended himself. "Sam said the place is nice, you haven't even been in and you're already making judgments." He argues. "And stop yelling at me in front of my fiancé, it's bad luck." He whispered the last part, taking advantage of Bucky getting out of the car, and you rolled your eyes impatiently.
The place was not nice. It was a surprise that it was actually standing.
You only didn't choke Steve because Maria arrived on a motorcycle with her girlfriend and she looked like she was going to do it first.
"Rogers, I promised her an incredible weekend and you put us in this hole!" Maria grunts between teeth as the three of you are supposedly checking out the kitchen, your families waiting for you in the living room.
"Look, the value was really good! I had no idea the place was in this condition." Steve defends himself. "Sam told me it was his family's house, and that they haven't been here in a few years..."
"More like a few centuries." You retort rubbing your forehead. You can hear Wanda's voice asking the kids not to touch anything, acknowledging that pitch of anger, and you can already imagine the lecture. And honestly, she's right.
"I'll call Sam." Steve says, sounding like he's more about running away from the discussion than solving something.
To add to Wanda's irritation, you had also suggested that she invite Pietro and his family, figuring that your friend would have picked a really nice place. So when the twin arrived with Monica and little Luna, you knew that the thin ice had burst.
Pietro let out a laugh when he saw the state of the room.
"It looks like a hurricane came through in here." He commented dropping one of the suitcases on the floor, his wife holding her daughter as if afraid she would catch some disease from the floor. "Well, I'll take the larger room!"
Pietro's sentence caused a commotion. You shuddered at the look Wanda threw you before she ran to catch up with the boys who went to dispute the room with their uncle, and you sat down on the old couch with a grunt, a migraine forming.
"Sam said he'll be here in fifteen minutes." Steve informs you and Maria as he returns to the living room with a cell phone in hand.
Apparently, it was the housekeeper's fault. Sam was a nice guy, and really didn't know that the house wasn't being taken care of properly. It took him almost 30 minutes to arrive however because he brought several pieces of cleaning equipment to help improve the appearance of the house.
"Amazing, guys! I go to the beach with everyone who has nothing to do with the choice of lodging and the rest of you are left in charge of cleaning." Wanda declares to the room and no one has the courage to contradict her.
And so you spend the rest of your afternoon trying to get mold out of the inside of a pool.
"Natasha seems nice." Steve tells Maria a few hours into the cleanup when the three of you are taking old bottles out.
"She's amazing." Your friend retorts with an excited sigh. "I was a little unsure about this open relationship thing, but we're doing fine."
"Wait, does that mean you two can sleep with other people?" Steve asks surprised, and Maria giggles, shaking her shoulders as the three of you make your way back inside, at least three rooms with plenty of cleaning to be done yet.
"If we are in agreement, yes." Answers the brunette.
"Damn I could never do that." Steve comments and you hum in response.
"Just the thought of Wanda sleeping with someone else makes my skin itch."
"I didn't know you were the jealous type, Y/N." Maria comments and you give a short laugh, your hands busy moving the pillows to dust them off.
"Have you seen my wife, Hill? No, wait, don't look at her like that." You joke making all three of you laugh. "I'm not really, just truly monogamous. Believe me, Wanda is jealous of this relationship."
Steve laughed in agreement. "Oh, I recall that. Before you joined the company, Maria, Y/N trained a new girl, I think her name was Carol or something. Wanda looked ready to rip someone's head off every time her name was mentioned."
"I thought it was cute."
"It was scary." Steve contradicts making you laugh.
You get back to cleaning the house between conversations about work and side scares, and as the place gets cleaner, the anger about the inconveniences eventually takes a back seat.
Wanda and the others don't return until late afternoon, the kids running in dirty with sand and making a huge mess in the shower.
You are testing the waters calmly, but realize that a day at the beach with the twins seems to have relaxed Wanda a bit. You try to improve things a bit by promptly offering to take care of the twins, cleaning up all the mess and making sure they were in their pajamas and ready for dinner without delay.
Wanda smiled at you in thanks before heading to the kitchen and that made you sigh with relief.
"She's mad." Tommy warns you as you dry his hair and you look at your son with a grimace.
"Are you sure?"
"She smashed the volleyball." It is Billy who answers, and you sigh with slight panic.
"Boys do you have any suggestions?" You ask them, going to dry the other's hair.
"A new house." Tommy mutters taking an elbow from his brother.
"Foot massage, mommy. And you could buy some chocolates too." Billy suggests and you smile at them.
"You two are the best." You say kissing the head of each before letting them run into the kitchen.
—------—------
Everyone was tired from the trip and the beach, so plans for the barbecue and pool would be left for the next few days. The children were put in one room, and you, Wanda and Maria and Natasha in the other, while Steve and Bucky took the couches. The hammocks for Pietro and Monica.
"Did you girls get to know each other well?" Maria asked when the four of you were in the room. You were sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting for Wanda to finish drying her hair and get into bed, while Natasha was grabbing bath items to use after Maria who had just left the shower.
Wanda and Nat exchanged gentle smiles. "Yes, Natalia is a sweetheart." Your wife commented, causing Maria to smile. "She mentioned that you guys almost went to St.Petersburg, but ended up choosing the beach. I imagine the regret must be bitter." Wanda joked, and although Maria and Nat laughed, you knew it was a warning that she hadn't forgiven you yet.
"I don't know, Wanda, trading thick coats for the chance to see this goddess in a bikini seems like a good game." Natasha flirts with her girlfriend, stealing a kiss on the way to the bathroom, and as soon as the door closes, Maria grunts with excitement, ignoring the giggles from you and Wanda.
"God, that woman is going to kill me." Hill said.
"Doesn't it make you want to keep her all to yourself?" You tease just to torment her, and Maria chuckles, raising her middle finger at you. Wanda watches the scene with confusion.
"What do you mean?" She asks, and Maria quickly tries to explain about them being in an open relationship. "Wow, that's... modern."
You give a short laugh, which Maria follows. "Come on Maximoff, you can say you think it's a crazy idea. Steve does."
But Wanda shrugs her shoulders, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "No, I think it's nice. If it works for you, and it's something you like, then I really don't see why it would be a problem. In fact, it sounds interesting, I imagine you guys must never get bored."
Maria laughs, commenting that boredom has never been a problem, but you frown in hesitation.
"In fact, girls, I think Nat forgot her soap and I would never want her to have her bath marred by that little triviality..." Maria says a moment later, ignoring the rolling of your eyes to run to the bathroom and you turn your attention back to your wife lying on the bed beside you.
"Hey, pretty girl, since when do you think an open relationship is cool?" You ask, moving to the edge of the bed without delay, your hands finding Wanda's feet to place them in your lap. She gives a confused giggle.
"What, I'm not allowed to?" She retorts half sarcastically, the irritation over the events from earlier still fresh in her mind.
You sigh. "You can think whatever you want, Wanda. I was just surprised. And that talk about being bored..." Your voice grew a little unsure, causing Wanda to frown in curiosity. "It wasn't about us was it?"
Wanda giggled incredulously. "By God, honey."
"What? It's an honest doubt." You defend yourself with flushed cheeks, and Wanda bites back a smile. She would like to be irritated with you for more than a few hours, but you make the job so difficult.
"Baby, we have sex almost every day."
"Yeah, but you could be getting tired..." You mutter upset, your fingers massaging Wanda's feet and she grunts softly.
"I promise I'm not."
"So you wouldn't want to open our marriage?"
"Babe, don't make me kick your pretty face." Wanda warns causing you to chuckle. She closes her eyes to enjoy the massage better and you smile affectionately as you watch the soft sighs that leave her lips in appreciation of the touch.
You lick your lips a minute later, stopping your movements to lean down and kiss her thighs, making Wanda open her eyes.
"What are you doing?" She asks almost tense, her gaze going to the closed door. You only press a hand to her stomach to get her to lie back down, and the other pulls the comforter over you.
"Making sure there's no boredom." You retort, fingers climbing up into her nightgown as your mouth kisses the inside of her thigh and up, making Wanda shudder softly.
"Baby, the girls could be back any moment..." She reminds you with the last remaining bit of sanity, but you only laugh softly against her skin.
"Adrenaline makes everything better, don't you think?" It is your last comment, and Wanda will not argue any further.
–//–
The second day is infinitely better than the first. Apparently, one orgasm is enough for Wanda to forgive you for a bad weekend, and when you join everyone on the beach, it's really fun.
The only inconvenience is Pietro mistaking sunscreen for suntan lotion and turning all the kids into shrimp, which stresses the mothers out to a considerable degree.
You end up going back early because of this, and you offer to go to the pharmacy to get some ointment for them, being joined by Natasha in the car as the woman also wanted to buy some items.
You chat a bit on the way, she has a sarcastic humor but is pleasant company. She also flirts a lot with the natural way in which compliments escape her, and the interaction leaves you feeling a bit awkward.
The problem is that for your wife, you arriving with easy smiles and a flushed face with a beautiful woman like Natasha is not exactly the best thing in the world. So her passive hostility from before returns and you have no idea why.
You focus on soothing the burns of the three naughty children on the couch for the moment though.
Wanda, on the other hand, is quite interested in finding out why you arrived laughing with Natasha, and once the redhead joins Steve and Bucky in preparing the barbecue, the shorter one is trying to sound as casual as possible.
"[...] your wife is really very nice, that's all." Natasha assures amiably, her hands busy grabbing a cold beer. "I told her about not knowing New York very well, and she told me that with the company's trainee program she ended up getting to know the city like the back of her hand and that if I were in Queens sometime, we could schedule a coffee. She is very helpful."
Wanda forces a smile. "Yes, very helpful. Lovely." She commented, the sarcasm being missed by Nat, who wasted no time in continuing the conversation.
You didn't understand any of the murderous looks you received from Wanda every time she took a sip of beer while talking to Nat, but honestly, you were afraid to ask.
The barbecue gets livelier as Pietro gets the radio and speakers working, and you proudly fill the pool that you have successfully cleaned.
While the kids are playing in the water, you approach Wanda from behind, hands on her waist, but when you go to kiss her, she turns her face away and you end up just brushing up against her cheek.
She takes a long swig of beer, prologuing the lack of explanation and causing you to raise an eyebrow.
"What's wrong?" You ask in a whisper, holding her by the waist while the others are busy dancing and talking.
"Nothing." She retorts between teeth, returning the bottle to the counter in front of her, leaning her ass against you.
"Wanda." You insist, appreciating the warmth, but worried about the way she is acting.
Your wife just turns her face to you, an innocent expression that doesn't match the way her eyes are shining. "It's nothing, honey, I just heard about you being the best tour guide in New York."
You frown in confusion. "What...?"
But Wanda slips your hands away as she spins her body around, hands finding the collar of your shirt. "So helpful with other people's girlfriends."
You sigh as you understand. "Wanda, I was just trying to be nice..." You try, but she leans her face against yours, brushing your lips together and making you lose your line of reasoning. Wanda kisses you softly and suddenly bites your mouth just on the limit so as not to hurt, the gentle pain being a clear reminder of her annoyance, and you grunt softly as she pulls away. " No need to be mean."
She gives a naughty little laugh, licking her lips and attracting the immediate attention of your eyes.
But your interaction is interrupted when Steve announces that the couple he befriended on the beach earlier was at the gate. Tony Stark, his wife Pepper, and their daughter Morgan had brought more food and drinks for the barbecue, and you whispered that you were going to be as friendly as ever just to tempt her.
The barbecue continues throughout the day. Everyone gets to know each other, and around three, you decide that you would also like to join the pool, and having gotten busy you were not yet in your swimsuit.
You went inside to change and found the bathroom empty. Since everyone was outside and you were only going to put your top on, you didn't lock the door. As soon as you took off your shirt, someone came in.
Nat closed the door and turned around, surprised to find you without clothes.
"Oh, sorry, my bad." She apologized without any shame, just regret that she had intruded. The problem is that when she went to open the door, the old doorknob made a noise and fell to the floor. "That's not good."
You put on your T-shirt in record time, moving to the door as well.
"Shit." You grumbled, trying to push the door open but to no avail. You immeasurably started to knock, but the loud sound muffled it. "No, no, no."
Natasha gave a confused giggle at your reaction. "Look, that sucks, but I promise I'm not the worst company to be locked up with." She jokes, a little unsure, after all, she was the girlfriend of one of your close friends and just wanted to make a good impression.
You gesture to her quickly. "Oh, no, it's not you. I just need to get out of this bathroom before my wife dreams that I ended up in a small space with a beautiful woman."
"Well, thank you." She retorts and you grunt in embarrassment, but Nat seems to be finding the whole thing amusing. She leans on the wall next to the door, pulling out her cell phone and you sigh impatiently, trying to slam the door again.
Shortly after, you hear footsteps and knock harder.
"Hey, we're stuck!" You warn.
"Mom?" it's Tommy's confused voice, and you sigh in relief.
"Yes, honey, Aunt Nat and I got stuck in the bathroom, try calling Uncle Pietro without alerting anyone and-"
"MAMA! MOMMY GOT STUCK IN THE BATHROOM WITH AUNT NATASHA" Tommy shouts into the hallway with a mischievous laugh, and you feel your body freeze. Even Nat laughs softly at your reaction.
Wanda moves so fast out of her seat that the pillows hit the floor. She reaches the door in a rage and starts knocking hard.
"Y/N? OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!"
You shudder, taking a step away. "Wanda, honey, the lock broke..."
Another loud knock. You heard other footsteps, and the music slowed, so it wasn't hard to deduce that the whole group was in the hallway.
"What happened people?" Pietro asked confused.
"Pietro, Natasha, and I got stuck in here." You replied from the other side and wanted to dig yourself a hole for giggles.
"Everyone out now." Wanda speaking tapped her foot, and you heard footsteps and giggling children, signaling that the children all ran to the pool again. "Y/N, open this door right now!"
You sigh wearily, looking around. Natasha moves as well, grabs a toothbrush, and pats you on the shoulder to make room for her.
"Maybe if we shove this in here..." She comments but is interrupted by a loud exclamation and laughter from the other side.
"SHOVE IT IN? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Wanda questions explosively, and you grunt softly.
"Look, sestra, from the sounds of it it must be good stuff." Pietro sneers, and you hear a slapping noise and another chuckle.
Natasha seems to be having a hard time holding back her laughter, offering you a frown by Wanda's reaction, but all you do is sigh and sit down on one of the little stools by the door.
"Wanda, relax, I'm sure it's fine in there." Steve tries to reassure her.
"Yes, I'll go look for a screwdriver." It is Bucky who speaks and you hear his footsteps getting away.
"Of course, it's fine, by the way, it's a great opportunity for a bonding hour." Pietro teases getting another chuckle, but you sink your face into your own hands, grumbling in frustration. "Wow, I think they've even started."
The snickering makes you blush with embarrassment, but soon you jump in fright because Wanda gives another loud knock on the door.
"Y/N, I swear to god if I hear any more strange sounds..." She warns between teeth, and you swallow dryly, not even daring to breathe too loudly.
Natasha gives up trying to open it with her toothbrush, seeing that it wouldn't work and leans back on the wall.
"I don't know about you, Wanda, but sometimes silence can even be worse." Monica joins in the tormentors, and you hear Pietro laughing as well. "who knows what the mouth is doing other than talking"
"Y/N!” Wanda calls immediately with her voice trembling with rage. “Speak! Now!"
You roll your eyes and Natasha answers for you, "Guys, stay calm, everything is under control in here."
"Yes, Wanda, we're just waiting." You say.
"Yeah, Y/N, keep talking!" Your wife warns.
"What's the use of talking, we don't know where her hands are..." Pietro adds making Monica laugh. You place a hand over your face in disbelief.
Wanda's shaky voice calls out to you again. "What are you doing with your hands? Clap them!"
"My god, that's ridiculous." You mutter.
"Clap.Them." Wanda repeats between teeth, her voice laden with irritation, and you sigh impatiently before obeying. "That's it, keep going. I better know where your hands are!"
"Wanda, I won't be-"
"I swear to god Y/N-" She interrupts you and you don't have to command again before you clap your hands again. "That's it, good. Now speak, or sing."
Fuck this.
Pietro and Monica start laughing, and Natasha also gives up on holding in her giggles. Luckily, Bucky comes back with the screwdriver.
About ten minutes later, the door opens, and you only have time to stare at Wanda in confusion before the woman leaves in a rage and dragging her feet away.
"If she kills me, I will haunt you both." You warn Pietro and Monica, who just laugh at your distress before you follow the same path as Wanda.
Although it is not really your fault, you feel very bad to find your wife on the verge of tears, with her arms crossed and sitting on the sand, a few meters away from the house.
You sigh softly, making noise with your steps to announce your arrival before sitting down beside her.
"Sorry." You murmur and Wanda shudders, keeping her gaze on the ocean. "I should have, um, locked the door before the doorknob broke."
"I'm not mad." She grumbles. "I know it wasn't your fault."
You look at her with concern. "Then...why are you crying?"
"I don't know." She answers with a soft sniffle, wiping her tears away quickly. "It's stupid."
You sigh, moving one of your fingers to give the strap of her shorts a gentle tug, "Come on, talk to me." You insist sweetly, and Wanda takes a deep breath, her gaze on her own feet.
"I just... it's stupid, but sometimes, I have these thoughts. About you, finding someone cooler or I don't know, hot. Someone who does things more fun than cleaning the carpet or preparing kids' breakfasts. Or I don't know, some of the incredibly interesting people you meet every day who actually go places instead of spending the day writing about it." Wanda blurts out, and you sigh deeply.
She has never said these insecurities to you. Not since college at least. And because you were so sincerely in love with her, the possibility that Wanda might feel insecure never crossed your mind.
"Hey, come here." You call out to her, bringing your hands to her hips. "Where did that come from?"
Wanda hides her face in your chest, her cheeks burning. "I don't know, it just did come." She mumbles against your skin.
Before, when you were younger and more hesitant, you would often reassure her. But after marriage, god, after children, you just assumed Wanda knew she was the love of your life. But she apparently still let her insecurities get the best of her. And it was okay.
"Sometimes I think you'll meet a super literature genius and forget about me." You confess to her as you hold her, and Wanda gives a confused little laugh.
"Really?"
"Mm-hmm." You mutter. "Remember when you won that writing contest last summer, and that handsome professor came over to ask for your number?"
"And I said I was married?" Wanda asks raising her gaze to you.
"Yep, that's the one." You say. "I was so insecure all night because all my head could think about was you moving on with someone far more intelligent and well resolved."
"That's ridiculous, I love you."
"I know, that's exactly my point." You retort with a chuckle that she accompanies. "Besides, that night you couldn't even wait for us to get out of the car so you obviously were crazy about me-"
Wanda smacks you in the ribs, laughing along with you. "Idiot." She says, sliding her arms around you.
"Sorry for making you clap your hands." She asks then, and you laugh softly.
"It's okay, baby." You say. "Do you want to go back inside?"
"Can I get a kiss first?" She asks with a pout raising her eyes to you.
"Hmm, as many as you want." You whisper back, leaning in to meet her mouth and feeling her smile against your lips. Wanda slides her tongue against yours slowly, and you move your hands down to squeeze her ass, pushing her against your hips and getting an affected sigh. "Just for the record, Maximoff. You are the hottest woman in the world." You compliment with your eyes ajar, smiling at the way that although she rolls her eyes, her cheeks turn pink.
–//–
The last day of the weekend had everything to be perfect, so it was the most disastrous of all.
Someone - you prefer not to accuse, although everyone knows who sleeps in the living room takes care of those things - forgot to close the windows, and the early morning rain got half the appliances on the countertop wet and damaged. Pietro was quite grumpy without his coffee.
The children have become even more energetic in the last day, and almost impossible to keep up with. You lost sight of Tommy for the fourth time and were trying to help Billy get his arm out of a jar when you heard the sound of something falling.
The whole house heard it, actually, and in record time, it was the whole group outside, where Tommy had just fallen off an old ladder trying to climb the fence.
"What are these kids taking?" Steve asks half startled, but you are busy going to check on your son who has apparently twisted his wrist.
"Mommy's hurting." Tommy whimpers as you sigh nervously, grabbing his arm to check.
"It doesn't look broken dear. Come on let's put some ice on it."
Aside from Tommy's injury, apparently, Wanda couldn't decide whether to stay on good or bad terms with you this weekend. As soon as she finished checking for the tenth time that her son wasn't forcing his injured hand, she sent you one of her angry glances on the way to the bathroom and you sighed in confusion, the sound attracting the attention of Monica, who was preparing lunch next to you.
"Everything okay there, Y/N?" She asked gently, and you forced a smile.
"Yeah, it's nothing." You mumble, but meet Monica's gaze and sigh. "It's just Wanda."
"Are you two going through a crisis?" she teases but you widen your eyes.
"What? Why, did she say something?"
Monica gives a confused giggle, "No, Y/N, I'm just teasing you." She assures you still smiling, and finishes throwing some of the vegetables into the pot. "Is this about the house? Cause it all turned out to be fun."
"God, I have no idea." You gasp softly in frustration. "She keeps having these mood swings, one minute we're in paradise and the next she looks ready to jump at my neck."
"Oh, but that makes sense for someone in her condition." Monica mutters and you frown in confusion. Seeing your face, the other woman hesitates.
"What condition?"
Monica gives a nervous little laugh, shaking her head. "I meant, I imagine she was nervous about the dismissal from the company and-" She starts to reel, but you cut her off:
"Monica, what condition?"
The woman sighs in defeat. "Sorry, Y/N. I didn't know Wanda hadn't told you yet." She says twisting her fingers. "She found out she's pregnant."
You give a short laugh, thinking it's a joke. But Monica's face doesn't have a trace of humor in it.
"B-but we haven't been trying for months and-" you stammer but shut up when you realize that the possibility is quite possible. Because you had tried, a lot, to increase the family a few months ago with the whole homemade insemination and donation sperm, until the layoffs at Bishop started happening and as the tests kept showing negative, you and Wanda left the idea for later. But, apparently, it had worked.
"I'll get you some water." Monica says as she sees your pallor, but you turn around, shaking your head.
"No, I'm fine. I need to talk to my wife." That's what you say before you drop the food knife and leave the kitchen.
Wanda is packing the boys' bags in the last room when you run into her. Everything would be fine if she weren't sniffling softly.
You close the door gently, sighing so she won't be startled, and she quickly wipes her face.
"Hey, sweetheart." You greet her by moving closer and sitting down next to her on the bed, knee to knee. "Why are you crying?"
Wanda gives a tearful laugh. "I have no idea." She replies making you smile affectionately, one hand moving to intertwine with hers in her own lap, and Wanda smooths out one of Billy's t-shirts with the other. "I was just packing up the boys' things and it occurred to me how fast they grew up, and before I knew it, I was crying."
You hum in understanding, moving your face to kiss her on the cheek as Wanda closes her eyes for a minute, trying to control her own emotions. "I'm sorry." She murmurs, and you shake your head, playing with your fingers.
"Don't apologize." You whisper back. "I would never be angry with you for that. I would never be mad at you for anything."
She lets out a soft laugh, turning her face to you. "Not even for accidentally recording Bewitched over your The Office?"
"The keyword is accidentally." You retort good-naturedly, making her laugh as well. Wanda leans against you, and you drop her hand to slip an arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head. "Baby, is there something you wanted to tell me?"
Your question makes Wanda tense up, but your gentle caresses with your fingers along her arm make her sigh and relax eventually. It takes a few minutes, but she finally says:
"I found out last week." She confesses, and you sigh softly. "Who told you?"
"Monica."
"I'm going to kill her." You laugh, and so does Wanda, pulling away to look at you. "I'm so sorry-
"Stop apologizing, Wanda." You interrupt her tenderly, rubbing your noses together affectionately for a moment. "We both wanted to and did it together."
"But that was before-"
"I know." You cut in with a soft chuckle, using your other hand to tuck loose strands of Wanda's hair behind her ear, meeting her worried emerald eyes. "We're going to be fine, darling. I know it's a scary time, but we'll manage. We always do."
Wanda sighs, looking at you for a second. "I love you."
She confesses, making you smile affectionately.
"And I love you." You assure, resting your forehead against hers. Wanda breaks the distance to give you a sweet kiss, smiling against your lips. When she pulls away, you exchange passionate glances. "How many weeks?"
Wanda gives a short laugh. "Almost four months, darling."
You gasp in surprise, pulling back. "No way!" You comment, moving your hands to her blouse, and lifting it up making Wanda laugh at your enthusiasm. You place your hands on her belly. "She's been hiding..."
"She?"
"Oh, yes, definitely a girl. I can feel it." You murmur, moving your hands to Wanda's hips, who raises an eyebrow at the sight of you adjusting to lay her down on the bed and be on top. "I wonder when we made her..."
Wanda bit back a chuckle, feeling you fit a leg between hers. "Well, four months ago, I was working from home every day."
"Hmm, so I guess it was right on your desk, sweetheart." You retort to her as you lower your lips to her neck, and Wanda gives a soft little laugh, remembering all too well how many times you almost broke her office desk. Your hands are coming down dangerously, but the sound of the children outside makes you sigh in frustration against her neck. Wanda feels hot and shares your dissatisfaction at having to stop. "We need a vacation for just the two of us, Wanda."
"I agree." She comments with a smile, kissing you more tenderly.
You knew things were going to be okay. You had Wanda. And it would only take a week for you to get a call from Eternals Inc, and another two for you to get back to work. And less than a month later, booking tickets for a cruise on your anniversary.
