Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader (Oneshots)

Never Knew You Needed Me* (Wanda)

My beautiful zajačik.

If only you knew how much you need me.

A new employee at the little café around the block, you were a sweet thing. Every morning, when I come in for my Chai or salted caramel latte, you greet me with a kind smile and kind eyes.

"Welcome back," you'd say. "What am I getting you today, Wanda?"

And I would smile back, memorize the sweetness in your face before replying with my order. Oh, you are beautiful. Your eyes, your lips, your nose, your hair-you are the picture of perfection. My perfect zajačik.

From the first moment I saw you, I knew you were meant to be mine, all mine. You're a little clumsy, nearly dropping the cup in your hand as you pluck it from the stack to write my name along the side. But you are smiley, giggling here and there at your little mishap and apologizing gently as you go along.

Poor thing, I had thought to myself.

I know you love me-or you will. You will love me, crave to be in my protection, held in my arms, close to my heart like some cherished little thing.

You will feel the heat of my love for you, the warmth of my soul protecting your own. You will be mine. As soon as I heard my name fall from your sweet lips, I knew you would be mine.

As I walk up to the little counter where you wait with a black apron and a smile, I feel my heart clenching in my chest. You mutter those same words to me, affection licking each one and drenching it in a saccharine endearment.

"I think I'll have my latte today," I reply warmly, my eyes assessing every inch of what was new.

You wear a new blouse today, one I had watched you buy from the expensive store around the corner. A gift to yourself. Curious that you decided to wear it this Tuesday, your first workday of the week, the first day you would be seeing me again.

Aww, precious thing, I think. She wants to impress me.

"I love your new blouse," I smile, deciding to give you what you want since you have been so sweet as to think of me.

Your smile spreads wider as you grab my cup to write my name on. "Thank you," you chuckle. "I'm glad you like it."

"I love it," I reinforce, almost a correction. Your smile widens. "Anything coming up this week?" I don't want you to stop talking. The sound of your voice is a salve to the noise of humanity around us.

You shrug adorably. "Not that I can think of. Wake up, work, go home, sleep. That's about my schedule for the week. What about you?"

What about me? I stifle my laugh, glancing at my shoes and shaking my head as I bite my lip. I look back up at your sweet gaze. "Entirely uneventful."

You chuckle, looking at me with that hopeful gaze of yours. "Well, then, maybe you and I could figure something out, hm?"

I could kiss you, those pillowy lips which taste of fruit flavored chapstick.

"Maybe," I agree, stepping away from the counter to finally relent to the impatient woman I can feel burning holes into the back of my head. I have no care for her, she is not important, but if I must, I will.

My eyes stay glued to your face as I shift off to the side to allow you your next customer. From where I stand in the little café, waiting for my order, I continue to watch you. So beautiful, so perfect.

You treat everyone with such kindness, so impartial to the follies of man in order to rely on whatever good you can pull from them when they choose to offer it. Do you not get tired? Hungry for more of that virtue held so tightly in the palm of everyone's greedy hands, only to be given in scarcity at exclusively the most necessary times?