The penthouse of Stark Tower was quiet, the kind of stillness that only settled in after a long, exhausting night. The battle against Norman Osborn had been fought and won, the city still recovering from the aftermath, but inside these walls, all was peaceful.
Wanda Maximoff stood by the window of her private quarters, gazing out at the glittering New York skyline. The faint glow of the Chitauri Scepter leaned against her nightstand, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. She wasn't tired, even though she should have been.
The night felt unfinished.
She sensed the presence before she heard it. A whisper of movement, a shift in the air, a presence as familiar as the way her own magic pulsed through her veins.
"You're going to give Gwen a heart attack," Wanda said without turning around.
A soft chuckle. "I'm not here for Gwen."
Wanda finally turned. Natasha Romanoff leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her expression unreadable except for the hint of amusement in her sharp green eyes. Her presence was always an anchor, a steady force of confidence and precision. But tonight, there was something else—something in the way she studied Wanda, as if she were considering crossing an unspoken line.
Wanda smirked. "So, what are you here for?"
Natasha took a slow step forward. "You tell me."
There was no hesitation in her gaze, no uncertainty in the way she moved. They had fought together, bled together, survived things that should have broken them both. There was no point in pretending that this wasn't inevitable.
Wanda let the moment stretch between them, letting the tension settle, thicken, until Natasha was close enough that the space between them was nothing but a breath.
"You're not subtle," Wanda murmured.
"I wasn't trying to be."
The final step was Wanda's. It always would be. Natasha might have walked into her space, but Wanda was the one who decided if she stayed.
She reached out, fingers brushing against Natasha's waist. "So this is happening, then?"
Natasha smirked, the corner of her mouth tilting up just slightly. "Depends."
"On?"
"Whether or not you're going to stop talking."
Wanda didn't.
Not with words, anyway.
The night stretched long after that, filled with quiet gasps and stolen whispers, with tangled limbs and soft laughter. There was nothing uncertain about the way Wanda traced the length of Natasha's spine, no hesitation in the way Natasha pulled her closer, no room for doubt in the way they fit together.
It was a battle of its own, a push and pull, a slow-burning fire that neither of them had been willing to acknowledge until now.
Sometime in the early hours, as Wanda's fingers traced absent-minded patterns along Natasha's bare shoulder, she murmured, "No wonder they call you a Femme Fatale."
Natasha smirked against her skin, voice husky with sleep. "I assume you're referring to my deadly combat skills."
Wanda hummed, shifting just enough to brush her lips along Natasha's jaw. "Mmm. That. And your other assets."
Natasha chuckled, her fingers tightening slightly around Wanda's waist. "You just like my curves."
Wanda smirked. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
It wasn't.
The morning came far too soon.
Wanda stretched lazily as she sat up, tangled in silk sheets, her body aching in a way that had nothing to do with battle. Natasha lay beside her, already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching her with a faint smirk.
"Morning, witch."
Wanda let out a satisfied sigh, stretching her arms above her head before turning to face Natasha. "Mmm. Morning, assassin."
Natasha reached out, tracing a line down Wanda's spine. "How are you feeling?"
Wanda smirked, leaning into her touch. "Like I won."
Natasha chuckled, sitting up and running a hand through her tousled hair. "Can't argue with that."
A knock sounded at the door.
Then, before either of them could say anything, the door swung open.
Gwen Stacy stood in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee.
Next to her, Talia Stark leaned casually against the wall, smirking.
The room was silent for all of two seconds before Gwen's brain completely short-circuited.
"Oh. Oh my God. You two—" She gestured vaguely at both of them, her eyes darting between Natasha's very satisfied expression and Wanda's equally smug one. "You—last night—oh."
Talia, on the other hand, grinned like she had just won the lottery. "Well, well, well. Look who finally made it out of bed."
Natasha, completely unbothered, swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. "Slept great, thanks."
Wanda, who lived for chaos, stretched in a way that was very deliberate, before sighing dramatically. "Natasha is… quite flexible."
Gwen choked on her coffee.
Talia cackled. "Called it."
Gwen, still trying to process, took a long sip of her coffee. "So, uh… You two are…?"
Natasha leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, completely smug. "Figured it out, have you?"
Wanda grinned as she stood, striding toward Gwen with the kind of self-assured confidence that made Gwen extremely nervous. "Jealous?"
Gwen nearly dropped her coffee again. "What?! No. I mean—why would I—? That's ridiculous—"
Wanda hummed, studying her face. "You sure about that?"
Before Gwen could even attempt to form a coherent response, Talia swooped in and ruined everything.
"Oh, please," Talia said, looping an arm around Wanda's waist. "Not before me."
Gwen gaped. "You—you can't just—"
Natasha shook her head, laughing under her breath.
Wanda, on the other hand, smirked knowingly.
Gwen, very much not ready for this conversation, turned on her heel and stormed off in a huff. "I need more coffee."
Talia, watching her go, grinned. "She's in denial."
Natasha exhaled, shaking her head. "She's Gwen."
Wanda watched Gwen's retreating form with amusement. "She'll figure it out."
Natasha brushed her fingers over Wanda's wrist. "And if she doesn't?"
Wanda smirked. "I'm patient."
Just before they could leave the hallway, Gwen reappeared, this time with a fresh cup of coffee, her face still pink from all the teasing but her expression determined. She cleared her throat and tried to act casual. "So, uh… Wanda."
Wanda turned, curious. "Yes, dear?"
Gwen took a sip of her coffee before saying, "I want you to come home with me. To meet my dad."
The air in the hallway shifted. Natasha raised an eyebrow, and even Talia looked a little surprised. Wanda, however, did not miss a beat. Her lips curled into a smirk as she stepped closer to Gwen, lowering her voice just enough to be infuriatingly smug.
"My, my. Meeting the father already? I didn't know we were that serious."
Gwen visibly malfunctioned. "Wha— I— That's not— Oh my God, shut up!"
Talia burst out laughing.
Natasha chuckled, shaking her head.
Wanda winked at Gwen before brushing past her down the hall. "I suppose I should prepare to meet my future father-in-law, then."
Gwen groaned loudly as Talia continued to laugh.
And with that, Natasha became the first to fall.
Join my patreon today to read up to 373 in advance your support is my inspiration join for only 3 to 5$
patreon.com/everstone