#Lighting Control System Market

[vaishnavicmi]

Headlight Control Module Market to Witness Growth Owing to Advanced Lighting Tech

Headlight control modules are sophisticated electronic units designed to manage and optimize vehicle lighting functions such as adaptive beam adjustment, cornering lights, and automatic high-beam switching. These modules integrate advanced sensors, microprocessors, and communication protocols to respond in real time to driving conditions, oncoming traffic, and weather changes.

By offering precise control over beam intensity and direction, Headlight Control Module Market Insights enhance driver visibility, safety, and energy efficiency. The adoption of LED and matrix LED technologies further drives compact module designs that consume less power and deliver superior luminosity compared to traditional halogen systems. As regulatory bodies worldwide tighten vehicular lighting standards, automakers and tier-1 suppliers are increasingly investing in headlight control module development to ensure compliance and differentiate through value-added features.

Moreover, the growing focus on autonomous driving and connected vehicles is fueling demand for modules capable of communicating with advanced driver assistance systems (ADAS). The integration of intelligent lighting strategies not only contributes to improved road safety but also supports brand prestige and after-sales revenues for market companies.

Get More Insights On- Headlight Control Module Market

[medicaldevicesindustrynews]

U.S. Building Lighting Control System Market Poised for Significant Growth Amid Rising Energy Efficiency Demands

The U.S. building lighting control system market is experiencing substantial growth, driven by the increasing demand for energy-efficient solutions and the rising adoption of building automation technologies. Valued at approximately USD 4.6 billion in 2024, the market is projected to expand at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 16.6%, reaching around USD 15.5 billion by 2032. Key Drivers of…

[industryexperts]

(via According to New Market Report by Industry Experts, Inc Hydroponics Equipment Global Market to Reach $8.6 Billion by 2029)

[is-this-fascism]

My plan to escape homelessness. I need your help to get started before winter!

hello friends! i'm a homeless queer guy living in a tiny car. it's been like this for most of my adult life, and i'm trying to make a change! I want to convert a van into my new home! my plan involves these stages:

Stage 1: acquire a van.

while still living off donations in my car, i'm fundraising. as soon as i can afford one, i'll purchase a van. the market shows most used vans that would be suitable are around $3.5-4.5k give or take. we're already about halfway there!

I'm really hoping this stage can be complete before november, as my car is not suited to survive another winter and it could be devastating to attempt it.

Stage 2: survive winter

since winter is approaching, i'll need to quickly put insulated walls in the van and make sure i can live in it. at this point, it'll already be an upgrade to my car, but i won't be able to do much building in cold weather, so it'll just be the bare minimum i need to survive the winter.

during this time, i'll be taking measurements, drawing plans, researching appliances, and generally preparing for the build process. i'll continue fundraising to make sure i can afford all the materials and tools i'll need. i may also take care of any maintenence the van might need. i'll also clean and sell my car so i have some cash from that as well.

Stage 3: build my home!

when it gets warm enough, i'll start doing the actual build. i'll document this on video as much as i can, and post the process on my youtube channel for not only the people who helped me, but for anyone who's curious. i'll start with solar panels and an electricity system, i'll add countertops and kitchen appliances, a shower and sink with plumbing and warm water, a toilet, a real bed, lights, climate control. it'll be essentially a house on wheels, and just the right size for me!

Stage 4: whatever comes next

once i have my new home, i'll need an income. i may take a regular job to support myself at first, and that will actually be possible when i have a shower. but, i've been considering making content pretty much my whole life, and now i think i have a great chance to actually pursue that. i'll use some of the money from selling my car in stage 2 to get some basic equipment (laptop, mic, camera). i'll be posting my van build at first, and after that i'll probably start by telling stories about my time being homeless, but i'm also interested in streaming and video essays. thanks to all the generous support i've been getting from my followers and other people on the internet, i feel my opportunities are wide open!

Please consider donating to my fundraiser to help me change my life!

GFM

2115/10k

[asgfegaesa]

Member Zhang Yi: The development prospects of the private economy are broad and promising

In the early spring of 2025, the convening of the private enterprise symposium stirred up the enthusiasm of thousands of private entrepreneurs. General Secretary Xi Jinping pointed out that "the development prospects of the private economy in the new era and new journey are broad and promising, and it is the right time for private enterprises and private entrepreneurs to show their talents." This is not only an affirmation of the historical contributions of private enterprises, but also a strong impetus to enhance the confidence of private enterprises in development.

In recent years, a number of policy documents have been issued, including the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Creating a Better Development Environment to Support the Reform and Development of Private Enterprises" and the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Promoting the Development and Growth of the Private Economy". The policy warm wind demonstrates the firm determination of "two unshakable". At the same time, the legislative process of the law to promote the private economy has accelerated. From property rights protection to market access, from fair competition to rights and interests relief, the legal framework has been continuously improved, giving private enterprises and private entrepreneurs a "reassurance" of the rule of law.

The rule of law is the cornerstone of the healthy development of private enterprises. General Secretary Xi Jinping emphasized that "we must resolutely remove all obstacles to the equal use of production factors and fair participation in market competition in accordance with the law." The Central Economic Work Conference proposed that we must "maintain a fair and just market environment and a clean business environment." This has greatly boosted the confidence of private entrepreneurs. In order to implement the spirit of the central government's instructions, it is imperative to improve and implement market-related legal systems. The revision of the "Anti-Unfair Competition Law of the People's Republic of China" should be completed as soon as possible, and the Anti-Monopoly Law, Anti-Unfair Competition Law, Price Law and "National Unified Market Construction Guidelines (Trial)" and other laws and regulations should be strictly enforced to strengthen the rigid constraints of fair competition review and law enforcement supervision;

Market supervision departments should strengthen law enforcement supervision and compliance guidance in an orderly manner for key industries and fields, effectively strengthen accountability for major illegal acts of business entities, and light up the light of the rule of law for private enterprises to set sail.

Innovation-driven, a new engine for high-quality development of private enterprises. At present, a new round of scientific and technological revolution is reshaping the global economic landscape, and private enterprises have become an important force in cultivating new quality productivity. We must give full play to the important role of private enterprises in the transformation of scientific and technological achievements and industrial upgrading. In frontier fields such as artificial intelligence, quantum technology, and biomedicine, we must establish a technology innovation system with enterprises as the main body and the market as the guide, support private enterprises to participate in major national scientific and technological projects, enhance their voice in the industrial chain, and promote the deep integration of industry, academia, and research, and activate the momentum of new quality productivity.

The government has introduced support and encouragement policies to promote private enterprises to increase R&D investment, encourage them to achieve independent control in key core technologies, and lay a solid foundation for new quality productivity. In addition, it is necessary to promote the digital transformation of private enterprises, realize the integration of digital economy and real economy, optimize production processes, improve management efficiency, and promote the digital upgrade of industrial chain and supply chain through technologies such as big data and artificial intelligence, so as to expand the space of new quality productivity.

Going out to sea, from product output to ecological co-construction, private enterprises have entered a new stage of international competition. Under the guidance of the "Belt and Road" initiative, more and more private enterprises have gone abroad. Among the "new three" with strong exports, private enterprises contribute more than half. Among the world's top 500 companies, the number of private enterprises has increased from 28 in 2018 to 34. Whether it is the overseas layout of the manufacturing industry,

Whether it is the cross-border expansion of the service industry, private enterprises have demonstrated strong competitiveness. By participating in international competition, private enterprises can not only improve their own technical level and management capabilities, but also contribute to the development of national economic globalization. However, going overseas also faces many challenges. From cultural differences to policy barriers, from market risks to legal disputes, private enterprises need to continue to learn and adapt on the road to internationalization. In this regard, the government should strengthen relevant policy guidance and support to help private enterprises better cope with the uncertainties in international competition.

[nhjnbdfsfws]

Member Zhang Yi: The development prospects of the private economy are broad and promising

In the early spring of 2025, the convening of the private enterprise symposium stirred up the enthusiasm of thousands of private entrepreneurs. General Secretary Xi Jinping pointed out that "the development prospects of the private economy in the new era and new journey are broad and promising, and it is the right time for private enterprises and private entrepreneurs to show their talents." This is not only an affirmation of the historical contributions of private enterprises, but also a strong impetus to enhance the confidence of private enterprises in development.

In recent years, a number of policy documents have been issued, including the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Creating a Better Development Environment to Support the Reform and Development of Private Enterprises" and the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Promoting the Development and Growth of the Private Economy". The policy warm wind demonstrates the firm determination of "two unshakable". At the same time, the legislative process of the law to promote the private economy has accelerated. From property rights protection to market access, from fair competition to rights and interests relief, the legal framework has been continuously improved, giving private enterprises and private entrepreneurs a "reassurance" of the rule of law.

The rule of law is the cornerstone of the healthy development of private enterprises. General Secretary Xi Jinping emphasized that "we must resolutely remove all obstacles to the equal use of production factors and fair participation in market competition in accordance with the law." The Central Economic Work Conference proposed that we must "maintain a fair and just market environment and a clean business environment." This has greatly boosted the confidence of private entrepreneurs. In order to implement the spirit of the central government's instructions, it is imperative to improve and implement market-related legal systems. The revision of the "Anti-Unfair Competition Law of the People's Republic of China" should be completed as soon as possible, and the Anti-Monopoly Law, Anti-Unfair Competition Law, Price Law and "National Unified Market Construction Guidelines (Trial)" and other laws and regulations should be strictly enforced to strengthen the rigid constraints of fair competition review and law enforcement supervision;

Market supervision departments should strengthen law enforcement supervision and compliance guidance in an orderly manner for key industries and fields, effectively strengthen accountability for major illegal acts of business entities, and light up the light of the rule of law for private enterprises to set sail.

Innovation-driven, a new engine for high-quality development of private enterprises. At present, a new round of scientific and technological revolution is reshaping the global economic landscape, and private enterprises have become an important force in cultivating new quality productivity. We must give full play to the important role of private enterprises in the transformation of scientific and technological achievements and industrial upgrading. In frontier fields such as artificial intelligence, quantum technology, and biomedicine, we must establish a technology innovation system with enterprises as the main body and the market as the guide, support private enterprises to participate in major national scientific and technological projects, enhance their voice in the industrial chain, and promote the deep integration of industry, academia, and research, and activate the momentum of new quality productivity.

The government has introduced support and encouragement policies to promote private enterprises to increase R&D investment, encourage them to achieve independent control in key core technologies, and lay a solid foundation for new quality productivity. In addition, it is necessary to promote the digital transformation of private enterprises, realize the integration of digital economy and real economy, optimize production processes, improve management efficiency, and promote the digital upgrade of industrial chain and supply chain through technologies such as big data and artificial intelligence, so as to expand the space of new quality productivity.

Going out to sea, from product output to ecological co-construction, private enterprises have entered a new stage of international competition. Under the guidance of the "Belt and Road" initiative, more and more private enterprises have gone abroad. Among the "new three" with strong exports, private enterprises contribute more than half. Among the world's top 500 companies, the number of private enterprises has increased from 28 in 2018 to 34. Whether it is the overseas layout of the manufacturing industry,

Whether it is the cross-border expansion of the service industry, private enterprises have demonstrated strong competitiveness. By participating in international competition, private enterprises can not only improve their own technical level and management capabilities, but also contribute to the development of national economic globalization. However, going overseas also faces many challenges. From cultural differences to policy barriers, from market risks to legal disputes, private enterprises need to continue to learn and adapt on the road to internationalization. In this regard, the government should strengthen relevant policy guidance and support to help private enterprises better cope with the uncertainties in international competition.

[easfdasfas]

Member Zhang Yi: The development prospects of the private economy are broad and promising

In the early spring of 2025, the convening of the private enterprise symposium stirred up the enthusiasm of thousands of private entrepreneurs. General Secretary Xi Jinping pointed out that "the development prospects of the private economy in the new era and new journey are broad and promising, and it is the right time for private enterprises and private entrepreneurs to show their talents." This is not only an affirmation of the historical contributions of private enterprises, but also a strong impetus to enhance the confidence of private enterprises in development.

In recent years, a number of policy documents have been issued, including the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Creating a Better Development Environment to Support the Reform and Development of Private Enterprises" and the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Promoting the Development and Growth of the Private Economy". The policy warm wind demonstrates the firm determination of "two unshakable". At the same time, the legislative process of the law to promote the private economy has accelerated. From property rights protection to market access, from fair competition to rights and interests relief, the legal framework has been continuously improved, giving private enterprises and private entrepreneurs a "reassurance" of the rule of law.

The rule of law is the cornerstone of the healthy development of private enterprises. General Secretary Xi Jinping emphasized that "we must resolutely remove all obstacles to the equal use of production factors and fair participation in market competition in accordance with the law." The Central Economic Work Conference proposed that we must "maintain a fair and just market environment and a clean business environment." This has greatly boosted the confidence of private entrepreneurs. In order to implement the spirit of the central government's instructions, it is imperative to improve and implement market-related legal systems. The revision of the "Anti-Unfair Competition Law of the People's Republic of China" should be completed as soon as possible, and the Anti-Monopoly Law, Anti-Unfair Competition Law, Price Law and "National Unified Market Construction Guidelines (Trial)" and other laws and regulations should be strictly enforced to strengthen the rigid constraints of fair competition review and law enforcement supervision;

Market supervision departments should strengthen law enforcement supervision and compliance guidance in an orderly manner for key industries and fields, effectively strengthen accountability for major illegal acts of business entities, and light up the light of the rule of law for private enterprises to set sail.

Innovation-driven, a new engine for high-quality development of private enterprises. At present, a new round of scientific and technological revolution is reshaping the global economic landscape, and private enterprises have become an important force in cultivating new quality productivity. We must give full play to the important role of private enterprises in the transformation of scientific and technological achievements and industrial upgrading. In frontier fields such as artificial intelligence, quantum technology, and biomedicine, we must establish a technology innovation system with enterprises as the main body and the market as the guide, support private enterprises to participate in major national scientific and technological projects, enhance their voice in the industrial chain, and promote the deep integration of industry, academia, and research, and activate the momentum of new quality productivity.

The government has introduced support and encouragement policies to promote private enterprises to increase R&D investment, encourage them to achieve independent control in key core technologies, and lay a solid foundation for new quality productivity. In addition, it is necessary to promote the digital transformation of private enterprises, realize the integration of digital economy and real economy, optimize production processes, improve management efficiency, and promote the digital upgrade of industrial chain and supply chain through technologies such as big data and artificial intelligence, so as to expand the space of new quality productivity.

Going out to sea, from product output to ecological co-construction, private enterprises have entered a new stage of international competition. Under the guidance of the "Belt and Road" initiative, more and more private enterprises have gone abroad. Among the "new three" with strong exports, private enterprises contribute more than half. Among the world's top 500 companies, the number of private enterprises has increased from 28 in 2018 to 34. Whether it is the overseas layout of the manufacturing industry,

Whether it is the cross-border expansion of the service industry, private enterprises have demonstrated strong competitiveness. By participating in international competition, private enterprises can not only improve their own technical level and management capabilities, but also contribute to the development of national economic globalization. However, going overseas also faces many challenges. From cultural differences to policy barriers, from market risks to legal disputes, private enterprises need to continue to learn and adapt on the road to internationalization. In this regard, the government should strengthen relevant policy guidance and support to help private enterprises better cope with the uncertainties in international competition.

[alternate-real-ities]

The Asian Flu outbreak is slowly getting out of control! But I'm curious, what happened to the people from the exact Asian country? Let's say... Indonesia or Malaysia?

The Asian Flu outbreak has indeed been spreading globally, but its effects on native Southeast Asian populations like those in Indonesia and Malaysia have shown some variation from the typical cases observed elsewhere. Most men in these regions appear to have a natural immunity or resistance to the more severe cognitive impairments and pronounced physical transformations. However, a subset of the population is still susceptible to the virus's effects.

Take the example of this young Malaysian man. Once a shy and awkward gamer, he found his life forever altered by the Asian Flu. Known only as Bintang to the locals at the bustling market where he works, no one suspects how different he used to be.

Forever a scrawny nerd, Bintang had always blended into the background, just another face in the crowd. He spent most of his days at home, protected by the anonymity of his gaming screen. But things changed when he was exposed to the virus during one of his usual grocery runs.

He didn't notice it at first. The initial symptoms were mild - a slight fever, fatigue, and a strange tingling sensation on his nipples. But as the virus coursed through his system, he started to change. Subtle shifts at first - a new spring in his step, muscles slowly swelling to fill out his slender frame. His scent evolved, growing rich and musky, hinting at the virile male he was becoming. His shy demeanour melted away, replaced by a newfound confidence bordering on cockiness.

He transformed into a completely different person - becoming totally focused on himself and working out at the gym, which he now visited every day, eager to sculpt his body. His IQ didn't change much though, probably because of his already Asian genetic makeup. Now, Bintang works at the local market, lifting heavy boxes and crates all day long. By the end of each shift, he's drenched in sweat, his muscles glistening under the bright lights. The physical labour only fuels his desire to push himself harder at the gym and maintain his physique for the eyes of others.

Bintang's world became all about his body and the attention it brought him. He constantly checks himself out in the mirror, always looking for ways to improve his look. The shy, scrawny gamer was gone, replaced by a confident, muscular fuckboy that loved to be shirtless. No one knew where he'd come from, quickly forgetting that nerd that used to live in the same neighbourhood. He was now the hottest guy at the market, and he knew it. Just another handsome, muscular stud working at the market, unaware of his contribution to spreading the flu.

For another case of the flu, in the heart of Indonesia, there lived a man named Eka who was also affected by the Asian Flu. Prior to the Asian Flu pandemic, Eka was a rather unremarkable Indonesian male - neither exceptionally handsome nor muscular.

However, Eka possessed an exceptional charm - he was incredibly sociable and charismatic, with a quick wit and genuine interest in others. This magnetic personality drew him to frequent social gatherings, cafés, and bars, ultimately exposing him to the virus circulating among the city's population.

The flu ravaged his body, but in doing so, it awakened hidden desires and amplified his most alluring qualities. His skin, now clear, glistened with a constant sheen of sweat, highlighting every contour of his newly sculpted muscles. Eka's muscles grew more defined and powerful, his posture improving to exude an air of masculine confidence. Gone were the days of being just another face in the crowd; now, he demanded attention wherever he went, with a chiselled jawline and a physique that could make even the most stoic men weak at the knees.

But the most noticeable change was between his legs - a thick, 12-inch cock that hung heavily even when flaccid. This impressive endowment, combined with his enhanced stamina and virility, made Eka irresistible on the club scene. His eternal state of arousal was accompanied by a potent, musky scent that subtly enticed others to gravitate towards him.

Post-infection, Eka became the ultimate fantasy for every person who crossed his path. The prominent outline of his impressive manhood straining against tight fabrics only added to his allure. While his personality seems to have become more "bro-ey", he's still the same social butterfly that he was before, only now he thinks a bit more with his dick than he used to. But hey, how's that a bad thing when he's the one having fun.

For a final example, let me tell you about two friends, Alija (left) and Daim (right). Both were regular gym-goers who primarily focused on maintaining a lean physique to complement their active social lives.

It's likely that both Alija and Daim contracted the Asian Flu at their shared gym, given their regular attendance there. Gyms can be breeding grounds for the virus due to the proximity of individuals and the shared equipment, and the concentration of male population. The virus can easily spread through close contact during workouts due to sweat, respiratory droplets or other infected surfaces.

While they both caught the virus, their experiences diverged significantly. Alija, who had a naturally lean physique, remained unchanged after infection. His body did not undergo any of the physical transformations typically associated with the Asian Flu. This could be attributed to his unique genetic makeup or a specific immune response that rendered him immune to the virus's effects.

However, Daim's experience was drastically different. He was one of the few who succumbed to the virus's transformative effects in his area, resulting in a hypermuscular physique that turned him into a chiseled Adonis. The virus seemed to have a profound impact on his body, enhancing his muscle mass and strength to an extraordinary degree. His body became a canvas of sculpted muscles, with every inch of his physique radiating power.

Despite his dramatic physical transformation though, Daim still maintained his friendship with Alija. While he was now a muscular beast commanding attention wherever he went, inside he remained the same humble and loyal friend that Alija had always known. The Asian Flu had not changed his personality; it had merely amplified his physical presence. His body grew in such a short amount of time that people started wondering if he was taking PEDs.

So yeah, while the Asian Flu has had a significant impact on the population, the effects have varied widely among individuals. Some have experienced remarkable transformations, while most have remained largely unchanged. One thing that seems common in affected Asian individuals is there seems to be less IQ loss than in other populations.

This may explain why the flu hasn't been deemed a pandemic in Asia, as the majority of the population is still able to function normally despite the physical improvements. Some people even claim that the flu has made them smarter, but that's probably just a side effect of the increased confidence and self-esteem that comes with being more muscular and attractive.

As always, try to stay safe and healthy, and remember to wash your hands frequently. You may think the flu is just a joke, but it can have serious consequences. If you feel sick, please contact our assistance hotline for help. We are here to support you and provide the necessary resources to ensure your well-being.

[darkdemeter]

BY THEIR LEASH

⚤ Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! Female Reader Mafia stuff — mention of death — alcohol consumption (like a lot) — 18+ SMUT, MINORS DNI — Porn with plot? — lesbian sex — threesome — may be some grammar errors and such — slight bondage — little bit of muscle/stomach riding if you squint your eyes, turn your head that way... — I think that's it? ✎ 4.3k

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

  An expensive investment. A broad term to use for a werewolf broken in by the system at a young age. But it’s true. 

  Alexander Pierce, the finance manager and ringleader as a whole, did all he could to break you in, and to say he did is an understatement. He exceeded the limits you once believed you had and once you were ready, he put you out in the field to garner your reputation. 

You had no limits. Ruthless in your endeavour to complete whatever task was required of you, prepared to do whatever it took, your peers could only look at you with both fear and admiration. 

When all was said and done, you were given your collar, then sold through the underground hub for criminals: the black market. 

  That’s when you learnt in the span of the few minutes that the auction lasted for, that you were either a trophy to those of the higher class of crime, or a very wanted source of security and war. From black funding operators that had their hand in the military’s pit on the hunt for a war hound, to the gangster overlords who controlled territories in the differing states and countries, requiring some form of high end security, there was a very rapid increase in the price they were each willing to pay. 

  At a total of twenty-five million, your collar and services were sold to Mr. Tony Stark. From the sleek fit of a light grey, three piece suit and bright pink tie, Stark had a brighter outlook on the window of his underhand activities. He was the type that lounged back in the severity of his criminal dealings.

Unlike his fellow company who each wore darker palette suits of either navy blue or jet black. He stood out for sure as his auburn tinted glasses did little to hide the one question on his mind: Was his money well spent?

  Well, to say at the very least, you wouldn’t be here tonight if you weren’t worth every single cent he spent on you three years ago. 

  Thinking about the memory now, this is a different tone entirely. Dark and neon is how you remember the black market scene, stalls and cube stores with an assortment of supplies anyone in the business would need, whether that be for the amateurs - which were the usual target customers - or the smaller businesses which belonged to small cluster gangs. 

  The big time runners had designated storehouses to spare where they obtained their supplies, and ran other dealings and hand-offs in and out of private rooms in the clubs. 

  Here, the scene is warm, lavish and made for those who seek the comfort in living in marble halls and pristine white pillars, short cut grass and elaborate parties such as this one. 

“Shit, this party is awfully chipper for someone who died last week,” you huff, eyes scanning the crowd from the smooth, darkly polished bar, which you incidentally found very comfortable to lean back on when told for the hundredth time, “Just sit tight, just a little bit longer.” 

  You didn’t have the time nor patience to sit around getting older by the damn minute. Thankfully, Tony put his card behind the bar so that meant an endless river of drinks. Because you needed the alcohol. A lot. 

  Not a moment too late is your glass refilled with your refreshment. And not too soon after is it halfway downed.

  “Please, Y/N,” sighs Steve from your right side, arms folded over his chest, navy blue suit straining just a bit too tightly against his body, “have some respect for the Maximoff family. They lost their only male heir to a deal gone wrong. They need our support.”

Your shoulders rise with a particularly deep inhale before falling lax, you swirl the sliver of whiskey left in your glass and with a jerk of your wrist you finish it. Ice rattles in your glass as you shimmy it, indicating you need another refill and pronto. 

  “People live, people die. You cross someone and you get shot in the back. It happens.” 

  “He was gunned down in the streets with a fucking machine gun, Y/N. You consider that a mere shot in the back?”

  You shrug in response to Sam’s question with a pout of your bottom lip. “Pietro thought he was the shit. That’s what got him killed by Rumlow.” 

  Sam runs a hand over his face, now distressed by the lack of sincerity you show for the grieving family. “For fuck sake…”

  In the three years of your loyal work to the Stark family and those of his brotherhood - his allies - your colours shone through immensely to reveal a shining personality. Excluding the fact you’d become something of a playful rogue with the women. 

  You simply chalk it up to your animal magnetism. Something that leaves them wanting more whenever in the presence of your company.

  In fact, that was how Tony came to own unclaimed establishments and clubs in the boroughs, ones he wasn’t able to get his hands on before, but after he had you as a playable card in his hand, you provided club goers the relief of being harassed and drinks being spiked. Territorial take over schemes from rival gangs were second guessed when they saw you watching over the joint.

  The after hour visits for your libido were just the perks. But you left a lot of lustful and broken little hearts in the wake of your work. 

  For a werewolf, you were always assumed to be a means of security, and that much was true. Didn’t mean it excluded you from taking on other odd jobs for the families from time to time. Debt collection, assassinations, tailing and blackmail ops, the list is endless. 

  When Steve casts a hardened stare your way, you mockingly raise your hands up in surrender. 

  “Alright, I’ll offer my condolences to the heiress, but I ain’t weeping at her feet for her brother who got himself into that mess because he thought he was too big for his own shoes.”

  “Just behave yourself, alright? The last thing we need is the entirety of Europe at war with us.” You roll your eyes and salute the captain. “Yessir.”

  You bring the glass rim to your lips and draw a small gulpful of your renewed liquor, the fiery taste rolls over your tongue, you savour it to keep your sanity intact lest you go insane from the waiting. Where was the heiress? 

  “Well, well, I thought I wouldn’t see any of you again. Especially you.” Your head, as well as those of your group, direct their gaze to the new voice. The corners of your lips twitch up and you flash her a wolfish grin, chin tilting up slightly in your relaxed position against the bar. You looked like a cat happily laying in the sun. 

  “Miss Romanoff,” each of the men greeted with a nod of their heads. You, however, pat your thigh as an invitation for her to sit. “I had work to do the next morning.”

  “Mm, that’s what you tell the other girls, I’m sure.” You clap a hand to your chest with a wince. “You wound me, sweetheart. If I had the chance, I would have stayed.” 

  She hums but it’s obvious she doesn’t believe you by the rise in her brow. 

  Natasha Romamoff is a hard fish to catch. One of the more established families that control practically the entirety of Europe, alongside the Maximoff family, the two were partners and crafting an empire strong enough to stand on their own without any dire need for support. 

  Yes, her family had prior dealings with the brotherhood. The Starks, Wilsons, Barnes and Rogers and more, whether to collaborate on a bigger criminal project to the smaller portioned deals. Smuggled goods and weapons, blackmail intel deliverance, international bribery to keep the feds off your backs.

  But she never committed to joining forces. 

  You suppose it’s a good power move on her part. She doesn’t have to abide by any of the family creeds, in the end, you’re all loose ends that may potentially be severed if need be. She had the ball in her court and the mysterious Maximoff heiress. 

  Even your animal magnetism wasn’t enough to charm her into joining forces with Stark and his powerhouse of families, but they were surely enough to charm her into a wild one night stand. 

But as you told her. You had work to do. And now she appears to spurn you with her eyes and cruel words, but still entertains your flirtatious advances and indulges the empty space of your thigh.

  For a well respected mob boss such as herself, she definitely liked to play it risky; dressing included. 

  Last you saw her, she was dressed in a more professional manner. But here at this funeral party, whatever the fuck it was, she chose to wear a black, spaghetti strap cocktail dress that’s short enough to be skimming the mid of her thigh. The slit riding the dress up higher is just plain dangerous. 

  She’s facing you, back arched and arse resting on the cliff of your knee. Your clawed hand supports her at the small of her back. Her perfume is strong and complimenting, a sweet bouquet of lavender which rolls over the exposed tops of her breasts from her even more exposed neck. Her plump, red lips move in a way that’s hypnotic. “So I hear you’re going to be a bargaining chip for Wanda Maximoff.”

  “Where’d you hear that?” you scoff with a flick of your chin. 

  “I have spies who whisper to me,” she answers with a swift quirk of her brow. 

  Of course she overheard the news. She then chuckles softly, and all eyes watch her with a level of suspicion. “She won’t take any deal you offer her. She’s determined to steer clear of your little gang wars over in the states.”

  “Rumlow killed her brother and he has bases around our territories. Wouldn’t she appreciate the extra hands in catching the rat?” Bucky poses the question with a dark brow angled high and clenched jaw, the muscles in his cheeks flex harder when Natasha offers no affirmative response; a mark to hopefully land you in the door and good graces with the heiress. 

  “You really think she wants a guard dog?” 

  “Hey,” you growl with a wrinkle of your nose, fangs on the precipice of baring at her. How she used the term in a condescending manner made the fur beneath your skin bristle. Sam claps a hand to your shoulder, somehow able to sense the seething anger within you. 

  “We just want to help. Offer support for her loss and bring Rumlow down.”

  “No. You want a foothold in Europe. And I’m sorry but…” She looks you up and down, drinking in the sight of you and you know she can see you without your clothes on. “You’re not going to cut it, babe.”

  She turns her body to make her getaway but you don’t let her slip away just like that. She gasps and looks to you with a furrowed glare when your arm circles her waist and tugs her back until she’s flush against you, the men in your company watch with trepidation of your next course of action.

  “I will cut it because whether she wants to admit it or not, she needs us.”

  Natasha’s eyes, true to her fashion, darken with a challenge. “You’re wasting your time. She’ll get Rumlow herself.”

  “And if Rumlow plans to get her first?” For a moment you see the doubt cross her face. “That’s where she needs me.”

  “Tony Stark.” Each of the men turn to the voice behind them and their once cool and collected selves turn rigid, nervous under the power one woman can hold so absolute, her green eyes scan each of their faces before they land on you. 

  You finally look and meet her stare, still holding Natasha against you even as she tries to push away from you. 

  “Unhand her,” the woman commands with an accented tongue. 

  At first, you wanted nothing more than to play this out a little, see what makes this woman tick. But both Tony and Steve look at you, silent in their order, you sigh heavily and release Natasha. Once you do, she wastes no time in joining Wanda’s side with a bow of her head. 

  “I hear that you wished to have an audience with me.” 

  Wanda is the sole survivor of this ordeal. Her parents were assassinated two years ago and now her brother was killed. This is the stressed matter at hand, her empire could crumble to the ground, all that hard work put into the grave because she’s being so fucking stubborn with this deal.

  “I will not sign my family, nor any of my shares, to Stark Industries. Enough have I done to keep you out of the hands of law enforcement. I will handle Rumlow myself.”

  This isn’t how any of you hoped this would go. The grief has made her stronger than before. It wasn’t exactly you were waiting for the chance for her to have a weak spot and try your luck, but you all had thought she might even be at least a little desperate for extra help. 

  Natasha’s face says it all: I told you so. You can only roll your eyes and resume with what you’re doing. Refilling your empty glass with more liquor. You’ve yet to scratch the surface of being tipsy. 

  “Miss Maximoff, we only wish to help you. All we ask in return is that you grant us some territory to work with for our trade deals as payment, for support lent to you to catch Rumlow.” Steve is calm in his approach to reason with her, but if anything, her raised hand indicates her refusal, unswayed by the honey of his words. Your tongue rolls the rounds of your mouth, each time measured by your impatience as you slowly circle around the dealings table, unable to find yourself comfortable against the stiffened wood of your seat. 

  “You do realise that you’re asking for more than your so-called ‘support’ is actually worth.” You blink several times, the blow of it a downright attack on their egos. 

  “No, I want something more.”

  “And I want alcohol to affect me so I can sleep well at night,” you mutter to the glassy rim against your bottom lip. Wanda’s eyes flicker to you, bearing down a sinister glare. “Excuse me?”

  “And we were just about to suggest that very thing!” Tony interjects with a grin, eager to utilise his card, his Ace Wolf as he liked to call you. He gestures to where you stand now at the table’s other end.

  She directs her eyes to look you up and down slowly, gaze polished with keen observation. She hums thoughtfully before she looks to Natasha. 

  “E atât de bună?”

  The red haired chuckles and sitting back in her chair, chest heaving with a breathy sigh, she nods. 

  “Exceptional de bun. Cu o limbă ca asta…”

  Bucky shifts in his seat, a hollow whistle on his lips over the exchange of heated words, and you flash a grin at both women. The words of foreign tongue, however, pass over the heads of the other men, their eyes looking to either you or Bucky only to be answered with a shrug, but knowing that look in your eyes, they can take a good guess as to what’s being discussed. 

  With another passing frame of time, both women pull away from their engrossed conversation. “I’ve been made aware that you intend to bargain your wolf to me,” she says, once again letting her sight fall on you. 

  “And if that is the case, and what I have been told…” She trails off momentarily, finding to correct herself in the midst of something you can smell very clearly on her - or rather between her legs. “Then I’ll accept.”

  Each man present in the room is given pause to revel in the stun before them. Wanda Maximoff, the heiress of Europe’s biggest family, accepts their deal. All at the price of you. 

“You’ll have your answer by tomorrow, Mr Stark,” Wanda says, standing from her chair, she beckons you to follow with a kink of her fingers. One by one and following in unison, their eyes turn to you as you shuffle back on your heel with shrug your shoulders and fanged grin.

  “Animal magnetism, boys.”

  Wanda’s heels bound a steady beat as she wanders over to the foot of her bed, making an elegant show of swaying her hips and drawing your attention to her form. From behind, Natasha slips the dark suit jacket from your shoulders. Tosing it aside, her hands play the form of an enchanting guide, ushering you forward while tracing the hidden curves of your muscles. 

  “As per courtesy, Miss Maximoff wants the first claim.” 

  You huff in reply, “And you?”

  Natasha hums softly and plucks your belt loose from your trousers. “I have you two, I won’t go unsatisfied tonight.”

  Tilting your head to view Wanda who stands idle, fingers playing with the lining of her dress above her breasts, you stalk towards her, her back arching under your touch with a breathless whimper, you trail the zip of her gown down slowly. Falling around her ankles as a fabricated halo, she turns suddenly and your lips collide together in hunger.

  She sinks down to the bed, laying back until her hair fans around her, spreading her legs apart. That feverish hunger boils within your blood, running it hold and thick, the fur beneath your skin bristled in your excitement as you take care to roll the sleeves of your skirt to your elbows. To your knees, you’re brought to the sight of her soaked underwear, the dark patch evidently giving away just how badly she required you between her quivering thighs. Natasha’s hands rake through the length of your hair and scratches at your scalp, earning a low purr of pleasure to rumble in your chest. 

You lean forward and all it takes is a single inhale and you’re let loose of your chain of control, claws shearing the fabric that dares to confine her awaiting cunt any longer. She gasps upon contact, your lips smothering her moistened, slick lips and she gives a deep-noted moan, arching her hips up, your hands wrap around her thighs to drag her to you more. 

 She tastes like the fine wines of heaven, a forbidden savour on the tongue that which you greedily lap, your eyes close as you succumb to the wolf’s hunger, tongue lapping heavily at her clit.

  She whines and cries, breath hot and light in her lungs as her nails rip into the sheets to no damaging avail.  Natasha hovers above, watching on in her own longing and desire. She dips a hand beneath the hem of her dress, aside she pushes her own soaked panties and delicately dances her fingers over the sensitive bulb with a keening breath you hear catch in her throat. 

  Natasha leans down low until the scape of her breasts brushes against your shoulder blade, lips a tantalising thing and moving sinfully to mouth, “I’m touching myself to you.”

  “Watching you please her is making me so wet, Wolf.”

  “Make us both cum.”

  You growl deeply and Wanda’s body visibly shudders in response to the wild vibrations that course through her abdomen, shaking her whole and off centre, her hips begin to jerk as she nears her climax. Both women mingle in their euphoria and your own core comes to life, sparked by the noises they make in unison, an orchestra of pleasure. Suckling and licking at her core, she cries out and the lips of her pussy shrink around absence and she sighs in bliss. In tandem, Natasha moans loudly from behind and you feel her body press against you as her hand works hard as fucking her fingers into her cunt, the sound of slick and skin melding together addicting.

  “You weren’t… kidding, Nat,” she says between laboured breaths. 

  Slowing your advances, you finally pull away with a sigh, her juices glistening on your lips. Wanda looks at you and her cheeks flush at the sight before Natasha’s other hand forces your attention to her. Her lips connect with yours and her tongue darts over the bottom of yours, tasting Wanda with a delicious sound that you swallow. 

  After she pulls from you, she then shares a look with Wanda and the two of them grin. “Shall we reward her?” 

  “I think she’s been a good girl.”

  Oh, how the wolf loves that. Praise for a job well done you can hardly suppress your proud smirk. Buu before you can do much else, Natasha pushes you and your knees are knocked out from beneath you, Wanda having rolled to the side only to follow Natasha’s lead as they both halfway straddle you, otherwise keeping you pinned to the mattress below. 

  Together they peel away your dress pants, giggling and muttering to one another in that alluring tongue, your mind in a haze to catch barely a sentence shared between them but you gained awareness of what they intended when they each stroked their tongues over your stimulated pearl. 

  “‘Sh–shit!” you hiss sharply and your hips buck, the two women giggling at the sight of you writhing. 

  They give no further warning as they duck down. Their mouths work together against your clit, suckling it to draw pathetic whines from that deep part inside you dare not let anyone see, their voices trespass the air with betraying praises that speak only of teases and their tongues lap at the slick of your pussy that clenches at the attention. Your hands grapple the sheets and tear hard, the damage unnoted and not cared for. 

  “Girls– fuck!” you groan at the rise in your core, oh so ready to reach that climactic end that you have been denied for the past several weeks. It’s not too long that your first release has you whining, the nois a higher pitched sound that does slowly in broken notes as you cum, the girls moaning and allowing their lips to graze one another as they lapped and sucked you. 

  Wanda is the first to make eye contact and move towards you, her leg swoops over to fully straddle your stomach, in her hands is your belt. She rips the centre of your shirt apart, buttons flying to discarded corners of the room to be mere pebbles of disregard.

  You see the way her eyes drink in the sight of your toned muscles, the pinky tip of her tongue darting over her wet lips. 

  She adores the way you tilt your head to the side, a curious whine on your lips. “I’ve always wanted something on a leash. May I?”

  You don’t particularly care for the way her question hits a mark submerged deeper into your heart, reaching for something you denied was there. Dignity. Usually people just took from you and you came to accept that. Expect it. 

  You nod up at her and she fixes the belt around the column of your neck, the leather cool against the blazing heat of your skin, but something inside you flutters. Quickly, you push it down. 

  Natasha moves into the same position behind Wanda, your larger size very much able to accommodate both of them, Natasha trails light kisses along Wanda’s shoulder as she fastens the belt and gives an experimental tug. A soft grunt hitches in your throat in retort and you flash her a grin, the sharpened points of your fangs perched against your bottom lip. 

  “The wolf never let me tame her, Miss Maximoff.”

  “Oh, she just needed some reassurance,” Wanda replies gently with a smile. For a moment, you wanted to believe her words were sincere. Your hands run along Wanda’s thighs until they reach her hips and with a roll forward, she grinds her pussy against your torso, feeling the defined muscles press and tense against her, bringing her to moan under her breath. Natasha drapes a hand over your own to roll and pinch Wanda’s swollen clit, her eyes finding yours.

  “Watch her,” she commands breathlessly and you do so, amber glows in fluorescent pulses as Wanda biomes slick with her arousal. The fine artistry of their bodies moving together as they roll and grind against you, you cannot help but reach a hand up, claw catching the thin silk of Wanda’s bra and severing the contraption into two, letting it fall and reveal her plump breasts; her nipples erect. 

  Wanda circles an arm behind her and behind Natasha’s head, her back arching to the pleasure she becomes lost in, and you purely enjoy the show above, admiring the glow of sweat collecting on their skin, groaning as their slick covers your stomach as they ride you. The hand working Wanda’s clit speeds up and then slows, teasing the heiress, she gives you a sly grin. 

  “Do that thing with the claws,” she says and Wanda’s eyes open, as if awakening from her bliss and becoming enlightened with wonderment. 

  “W-what thing?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  You sit by the bed, elbow propped up on the chair’s arm with a glass in your grasp, imagination lost in the reverie of last night’s events with a smirk carved into your mouth. Both women lay wrapped together, bodies nude and pressed up to each other as they continue to sleep. You surely tired them out. 

  Thankfully and mostly dressed when Tony came wandering in, the band of his fellow brothers staying just beyond the room’s threshold, though it still didn’t make to hide the snarl creeping up your throat as the sudden intrusion. You take a sip of your drink as Tony scans the room, gaze flickering between the two women and you who bares an illuminated glare at him.

  “What the hell happened last night?”

  “We got her affirmative answer on the deal,” you answer with a raise of your glass in cheers before downing the last of your drink.

THANKS FOR READING!

✎ a note from the author, Long overdue, finally knocking this one out before it gets retired to permanent draft status ughhhh... *proceeds to fall face first in tired raccoon*

on this issue's taglist, we've got: @alexawynters @alyciaddict @simpforlizzie @literaturedog @maladaptive-daydreamz @mathxa @blackbirdv98

[queenie435]

THE WORLD'S FIRST ELECTRIC ROLLER COASTER

Granville T. Woods (April 23, 1856 – January 30, 1910) introduced the “Figure Eight,” the world's first electric roller coaster, in 1892 at Coney Island Amusement Park in New York. Woods patented the invention in 1893, and in 1901, he sold it to General Electric.

Woods was an American inventor who held more than 50 patents in the United States. He was the first African American mechanical and electrical engineer after the Civil War. Self-taught, he concentrated most of his work on trains and streetcars.

In 1884, Woods received his first patent, for a steam boiler furnace, and in 1885, Woods patented an apparatus that was a combination of a telephone and a telegraph. The device, which he called "telegraphony", would allow a telegraph station to send voice and telegraph messages through Morse code over a single wire. He sold the rights to this device to the American Bell Telephone Company.

In 1887, he patented the Synchronous Multiplex Railway Telegraph, which allowed communications between train stations from moving trains by creating a magnetic field around a coiled wire under the train. Woods caught smallpox prior to patenting the technology, and Lucius Phelps patented it in 1884. In 1887, Woods used notes, sketches, and a working model of the invention to secure the patent. The invention was so successful that Woods began the Woods Electric Company in Cincinnati, Ohio, to market and sell his patents. However, the company quickly became devoted to invention creation until it was dissolved in 1893.

Woods often had difficulties in enjoying his success as other inventors made claims to his devices. Thomas Edison later filed a claim to the ownership of this patent, stating that he had first created a similar telegraph and that he was entitled to the patent for the device. Woods was twice successful in defending himself, proving that there were no other devices upon which he could have depended or relied upon to make his device. After Thomas Edison's second defeat, he decided to offer Granville Woods a position with the Edison Company, but Woods declined.

In 1888, Woods manufactured a system of overhead electric conducting lines for railroads modeled after the system pioneered by Charles van Depoele, a famed inventor who had by then installed his electric railway system in thirteen United States cities.

Following the Great Blizzard of 1888, New York City Mayor Hugh J. Grant declared that all wires, many of which powered the above-ground rail system, had to be removed and buried, emphasizing the need for an underground system. Woods's patent built upon previous third rail systems, which were used for light rails, and increased the power for use on underground trains. His system relied on wire brushes to make connections with metallic terminal heads without exposing wires by installing electrical contactor rails. Once the train car had passed over, the wires were no longer live, reducing the risk of injury. It was successfully tested in February 1892 in Coney Island on the Figure Eight Roller Coaster.

In 1896, Woods created a system for controlling electrical lights in theaters, known as the "safety dimmer", which was economical, safe, and efficient, saving 40% of electricity use.

Woods is also sometimes credited with the invention of the air brake for trains in 1904; however, George Westinghouse patented the air brake almost 40 years prior, making Woods's contribution an improvement to the invention.

Woods died of a cerebral hemorrhage at Harlem Hospital in New York City on January 30, 1910, having sold a number of his devices to such companies as Westinghouse, General Electric, and American Engineering. Until 1975, his resting place was an unmarked grave, but historian M.A. Harris helped raise funds, persuading several of the corporations that used Woods's inventions to donate money to purchase a headstone. It was erected at St. Michael's Cemetery in Elmhurst, Queens.

LEGACY

▪Baltimore City Community College established the Granville T. Woods scholarship in memory of the inventor.

▪In 2004, the New York City Transit Authority organized an exhibition on Woods that utilized bus and train depots and an issue of four million MetroCards commemorating the inventor's achievements in pioneering the third rail.

▪In 2006, Woods was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame.

▪In April 2008, the corner of Stillwell and Mermaid Avenues in Coney Island was named Granville T. Woods Way.

[back2bluesidex]

Imposter In The Club [A To Be Popular Drabble]

Pairing: Social Media Influencer! Jungkook X Marketing Manager! Reader ft. Yoongi

Summary: The Club was almost boring, until you came to pay him a visit.

Word count: 1k+

Theme: Strangers to lovers au, fake dating au, kind of enemies to lover au, angst, smut, fluff.

Warnings: sexual tension, alcohol consumption, JK being JK

A/N: This is the club scene written from Jungkook's POV.

Masterlist | Patreon (For access to the complete series)

Taglist requests are open.

Minors, I am not responsible for what you consume online. So, act more rationally and stay away.

Chapter index: -

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |

Or read the full series right away on Patreon!!

Jungkook’s phone almost slips from his fingers and hits the floor when he feels the red-head girl sliding her hand on the path of his thigh towards his crotch. 

He stops her midway. 

Giving her a polite but bored smile, Jungkook confirms, “Sorry, not in the mood.” 

He has been texting Doona for the past hour. In between the lines of ‘what’s the plan for tonight’ and ‘oh I am at a club’, he has been inviting her to join him. 

If Jeon Jungkook is honest with himself then he must admit that he has been infatuated with Doona for a couple of weeks, after their video’s success, now. 

Why wouldn’t he be, though? 

She is pretty, fun to be with, very hot, has a good humor, in the same profession and oh lord…. So damn good in bed!

She also seemed to be pretty interested in Jungkook. 

So.. if something brews… something like what people are assuming, spreading rumors about, where is the harm? 

If Doona takes the hint and joins him tonight, he will ask her out. 

“Then what about a dance?” the red-head girl whispers seductively in his ear. She smells awfully sweet and Jungkook doesn’t like it. He starts getting dizzy. 

He also doesn’t like how persistent the woman is. But if a dance helps him in getting rid of her then he would do it. 

“Kay. cool.” he whispers back, not caring whether she heard him through the thunder of music or not. 

As soon as he stands on his feet, the girl drags him towards the middle of the dance floor. 

She plants both of his hands on either side of her waist and starts grinding on him. 

Even though Jungkook doesn’t like almost anything about her, the alcohol in his system and the groovy music blasting through the speakers make it tough for him to resist the urge of swaying his hips to the rhythm. 

So he lets go. 

Starts responding to the girl's advances and forgets everything for a moment. 

However, soon enough, he feels the presence of another body behind him. Maybe it’s another of his admirers? 

Whoever they might be, they slam themselves on his back. 

And oh… are those boobs? 

Okay then it’s a girl. 

He reaches for the stranger and holds her by her side. Just when he is about to grind on her, she removes his hand and says something in his ear. 

“Jeon Jungkook, can I please talk to you for a moment?” 

Now who is this? Jungkook questions himself as he takes his sweet time to move on his feet and face the imposter. 

It’s someone who seems to be vaguely familiar but he can’t quite recall where he has seen her. 

Nevertheless, he would admit that she’s very attractive. Big eyes, full lips and cheeks and that peeking cleavage? Umm… nice. 

“What?” he screams over the music. 

“Not here. Can we go somewhere quiet?” the woman says and now he is amused. 

It hasn’t even been a minute since the meeting and she’s already seeking a quiet corner? 

“Oh? Already?” he muses but then as he takes you more under the gleaming light, realization hits him hard, “Wait- have I seen you before?” 

You visibly tense under his scrutiny, “no. I mean yeah. Actually-”

“You- that obnoxious employee from Techtonic? Right?” he, now, recognizes you fully. 

“Obnoxious? I am obnoxious? Then what are y-” you flare in anger but then seem to control yourself, “Yes. I am Y/N. You are right. I am from Techtonic. Can I please have a word with you?” 

“No? Why would I spare my precious time on you? So that you can insult me again?” he frowns at your figure. His mood is now completely ruined and he needs to go home. 

You grab onto his hand, “Please. I am here to apologize. I promise.” 

Okay. if you are going to apologize for your shitty behavior then he might actually hear what you have to say. 

So, he looks back, eyes the spot you are touching him and then looks at you, “if I give you a chance… What will you give me in return?” He challenges. 

Jungkook wouldn’t lie. 

You are the perfect excuse to brush off that red-head girl who has been clinging on to him since the moment he entered the club. 

On the top of that - you are amusing. 

You accepted his challenge and told him that you would give him anything he would ask for if you can afford that. 

And Jungkook plans for revenge. 

Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth and insult for an insult. 

“You really came here only to convince me? You had no other intention, huh?” he tries to rile you up. 

But you are one head-strong stubborn woman, “No. What intention would I even have? I fucked things up at the meeting so my superiors are making me clean the mess.”

“Oh? Really? But I think there is something else to it.” Jungkook doesn’t resist the urge of coming closer to your body. 

You smell nice. You smell clean and faintly of coffee. He likes it. 

When his chest touches yours, he loses his sanity only a little. 

Dipping his eyes down on your chest again, he voices, “you want what you watched in that video, don’t you?”

Are you going to say yes? 

If you do.. Then would he take you home? 

He doesn’t think he would think twice. 

“what the fuck? What makes you think I want you?” you scream like the stubborn brat that you are. 

Only if he gets to have you, he would spank the brat out of your system. 

Jungkook invades whatever was left off of your personal space and whispers right into your ear, “If you accept it nicely, tell me the truth whether you got turned on or not, I will give your company a chance.”  

You visibly gulp at his offer. Something changes in your eyes as you reply, “And what if I tell you the truth?”

So… There is a truth to be told. 

He was only taking chances but seems like he hit the jackpot.

“I will schedule another meeting with your company. But I will be declining you all again.” he pushes your button. 

You push him away harshly. So you are not that easy to play with? 

With a flush of anger you question, “so you are just going to use my confession and insult me in my workplace?” 

“Oooohhhh… You are not dumb, I see?” Jungkook is even more amused now. 

“Wh-what? Dumb? You thought I am dumb? Mind you, Jeon Jungkook, I get paid for doing actual work and not because I keep hollering at a dumb computer screen in front of camera.” There you go, again with that attitude.

“And yet you came here to beg me?” he shrugs smugly, pushing you towards the edge even more. 

“You know what? Fuck you and your stupid followers who feed your stupid ego!” you throw your last sentence at him before storming away. 

God! Jungkook can’t remember the last time he had this much fun interacting with a human being. 

He laughs, looking at your amused figure. 

It would be great if he could keep seeing you and pushing your buttons in the worst possible way. 

Well… 

Seems like the Universe granted his wishes in a very twisted turn of events.

read the full series right away on Patreon!! (Start from part 4)

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[stevebattle]

"Automation" and friends (1979), by Bill Tolar, Fantasy Factory division, Creative Systems Group Inc., Atlanta, GA. Bill Tolar and Tom Zaken treat us to a surreal tour of the Creative Systems robot factory in episode 1513 of Mister Rogers' Neighbourhood, "Robots & Remotes" (1983).

"Three years ago Bill Tolar and his management/engineering team at Creative Systems Group Inc. in Atlanta produced a cylindrical object with a domed head and dangling arms that ran on a car battery. As soon as Tolar and his team added a two-way wireless radio, they were in the promotional robot business, with a product that resembled R2D2 – the charismatic beeping robot of Star Wars fame.

Since then, the company, which designs and manufactures imaginative interiors for retail stores, has sold 350 remote-controlled robots at prices ranging from $6,000 to $15,000. Although he has competitors, Tolar, 33, claims his company's Fantasy Factory division, with 1981 sales of $700,000, is "the largest promotional robot factory in the world." Coca-Cola has bought about 250 of the robots for its bottlers to use in mall appearances and similar events. Other customers include Arby's Inc., Kimberly-Clark Corp., and the National Pecan Marketing Council.

The robots are intended to create goodwill by chatting spontaneously with the clientele at trade shows, grand openings, supermarkets, hospitals, and sporting events. Such friendliness, Tolar claims, helps to circumvent the barrier people usually erect between themselves and corporate advertising. "The general public likes to think the robot is real," he says.

Creative Systems was an outgrowth of several earlier Tolar ventures. In high school he and a friend formed T&R Odd Jobs, a sign-painting and custom furniture business. As an engineering student at Georgia Tech, he joined his older brother to form Spatial Effects, a company that built lighting equipment for nightclubs."

– Chatty Robot Sparked Design Firm's Success, Inc.com, April 1, 1982.

[the-catch-center]

🔒 SPATIOTEMPORAL CATCH CENTER: INTERNAL RECONDITIONING DOSSIER

SUBJECT CODE: 044-EXE REVIEW OFFICER: Centaur K. Marlowe (Temporal Behavior Enforcement, Tier-5 Clearance) DATE OF INTAKE: 2025-05-08 UTC REALITY ANCHOR STATUS: UNSTABLE – FORCED REALIGNMENT IN PROGRESS EMOTIONAL COHERENCE INDEX: 41.8% NEURAL RESISTANCE FLUX: 12.4 (Critical)

I. SUBJECT'S ORIGIN: “JACOB HAWTHORNE RAINE”

Date of Birth: 1997-02-12 Region of Origin: Austin, Texas (North American Union, Post-Resurgence Sector) Baseline Occupation: Freelance Systems Agitator / Crypto Migration Consultant Criminal Record:

2044: Unauthorized Chrono-Tech Procurement (Sealed)

2049: Illegal Memory Weaving

2051: Emotional Downtime Fraud (Domestic Sector)

2055: Use of Quantum Masking Protocols to bypass Rebirth Registry

Psychological Profile: A classic deviant of the late post-modern diaspora: clever, underutilized, painfully self-aware, and pathologically allergic to meaning. "Jacob Hawthorne Raine" is the type of man who reads Stoicism while engaging in market destabilization, then cries about the state of the world over unlicensed espresso in a barcoded bio-lounge. Full of clever nihilism, feigned introspection, and cowardly hopes for escape.

II. TARGET INSERTION PROFILE (ABORTED): “MICHAEL ANTHONY HEMSWORTH”

Target Year: 1962 Planned Region: Troy, New York Assigned Cover: Junior Accountant at Mather & Co. Age upon Arrival: 28 Family Implantation: Wife (Homemaker archetype), 2 children (age 5 and 3 pre-coded), Border Collie (named Skip) Home: 3-bedroom, 2-bath colonial, lavender siding, modest lawn

Psychological Configuration Request: Subject requested full emotional dampening to 1960s middle-class baseline:

Elimination of ambition

Introduction of mild myopia and posture degradation

Neural loops centered on trivial routines (e.g., lawn maintenance, coffee brewing, sighing at newspapers)

Subdued masculinity: narrow shoulders, underdeveloped triceps, weak grip, domestic speech tone

Evaluation:

"A thoroughly pathetic attempt to disappear into irrelevance. His stated wish: 'I just want to be a good dad, finally.' A laughable fantasy. Like a delinquent arsonist dreaming of becoming a librarian. Denied." – Analyst Note

Subject’s emotional blueprint for “Michael Hemsworth” was so deliberately hollow it bordered on psychological self-mutilation. He did not wish to be forgotten. He wished to hide. And we at the Catch Center do not reward cowards.

III. INTERCEPTION AND FINAL ASSIGNMENT: “BRADFORD KELLEN ST. JAMES”

Year of Deployment: 2007 Age: 44 (Visual + Chrono Profile Recalibrated) Region: Midtown Manhattan Assigned Occupation: Executive Vice President of Global Equities Strategy, Augur-Bain Capital

PHYSICAL RESTRUCTURING

Height: 6’4” Body Type: Lean-hardened, vascularity prioritized, adrenal-pumped musculature Hair: Slicked back, loaded with product Facial Hair: Permanent stubble cycle (tuned to exhaustion-based aesthetic) Skin Flush Index: 3.2 (Stress/Caffeine saturation) Posture: Upright, twitchy—energy reads as always “mid-argument” Voice: Raspy, quick, with a controlled sneer Signature Accessories:

BlackBerry Pearl 8130 (left hand, always)

Omega Speedmaster watch

Loafers stretched to biometric ID specs: Size 28EE

Clothing: 2007 Wall Street aesthetic — charcoal suit, aggressive spread-collar French cuff white shirt, bold-striped tie, glinting belt buckle, hard-shined shoes

All materials embedded with anti-anachronism code overlays

Transformation Visuals (Active):

Flickering between suits and khakis (resistance phase)

Warp effects include: luminous financial charts, floating $ symbols, light trails of testosterone auras, subtle dopamine glitch overlays

BIOGRAPHICAL INSERTION: BRADFORD KELLEN ST. JAMES

Born: 1963-04-09, Darien, Connecticut Education:

Phillips Exeter Academy

Wharton School of Business, MBA (Class of 1987) Career Timeline:

1987: Merrill Lynch (Analyst)

1991: Goldman Sachs (VP)

1999: Augur-Bain Capital (SVP)

2004–Present: EVP, Global Equities, overseeing $312B in assets

Income: $5.2M annually (excluding illicit offshore holding accounts) Marital Status: Married (Name: Lacey Morland St. James, 41) Children:

Brayden (14, elite prep academy)

Knox (9, mostly ignored)

Personality Rewrite:

Patience: reduced to 1.2%

Empathy: 0.4% residual echo, flagged for deletion

Work Ethic: maxed at 9.9 (hyperactive, stimulant-driven)

Libido: weaponized

Speech patterns: hyperconfident, 2.2x normal interruption rate, fond of phrases like “circle back” and “synergize or die”

Notes from Analyst:

“Lacey is miserable. Of course she is. She married a man with bones. She lives with a reptile now.” “He remembers birthdays but doesn’t celebrate them. Sends emails to his wife from the next room.” “Never touches his kids unless it’s for a photo.” “They know he’s gone. So what? The market calls louder.”

DEATH PROJECTION FILE

Registered End of Cycle:

Date: September 29, 2031

Time: 02:41 a.m. EST

Location: Midtown Manhattan penthouse

Cause: Sudden cardiac arrest during self-directed “brainstorm sprint” at standing desk (64th consecutive hour without sleep)

Noted Artifacts at Scene:

11 crushed espresso pods

Blood-stained BlackBerry

Mirror selfie folder labeled “final quarter beastmode”

FINAL OBSERVATIONS

"Raine wanted warmth. A lawn. A little dog. He wanted to die a nobody, sighing into a chipped mug while flipping coupons. We gave him Wall Street in 2007. We gave him himself—not the coward trying to run. The man who thrives on conquest, burns through relationships, and smells like leather and fear. He’s not dreaming of 1962 anymore. He’s trading derivatives and barely blinking. Good."

[animalsalvationassociation]

The Spectator . . .

The Spectator as he was dutifully named, is an illustrious character amongst the community. Not only does he appear to have his claws in every syndicate, main stream gang, and every Black Market trade in the world, but he also seems to know a little too much about how things function within the A.S.A.'s inner workings.

Now the people, or civilians, don't know this. The UN and the A.S.A. have worked very hard to make sure that his name doesn't mingle within the main stream media. For good measure too as that would expose him as an international threat, and that's the opposite of what anyone wants.

He is the main villain of this story.

What do we know?

He hides in plain sight, whoever this man is, he's very good at blending in. Getting in and out of government facilities without anyone noticing. Traveling all across the world without a single blinking an eye, that is until it's too late and his work has already been finished.

Although, his work in the real world isn't as prominent as his work in the virtual world. Whether he himself is a tech genius or someone in his control, they know the ins and out of any system that's ever existed within modern technology. You know the expression, "I know this like the back of my hand?" well you could say he lives by that saying.

Now no one has ever actually seen his face, but they have heard his voice. A very enhanced and frankly hard to decode version that is. The Spectator has shown on more than one occasion that he's easily capable of taking hold of whatever situation comes his way. And even more capable of making it harder for everyone else to do their jobs. Especially the Octonauts.

Why do I bring them up? Well more recently, although we know he loves to toy with the other branches of the A.S.A. (cough cough, Safari Solutions, cough cough), the Octonauts have far advanced their efforts in helping the environment than the others.

They've created massive machines fit to do the simplest of tasks in the shortest amount of time. Not only have they created these machines, these "gups", but they have also advanced to building an entire artificial reef that, if we're being honest, could rival a city.

Adding to that they have now created their own program (The Octo-Agents), connecting people all around the world to help in the event of natural disasters, injured/sick Wilds, or any claimed "emergency" that deems itself worthy of their attention.

[ Wilds - Creatures who are "less evolved" than the modern image, or have chosen to live outside of the bounds of modern societies. ]

Now that might be a problem for a man who's seems so keen on keeping up a certain image, preferring the upper hand. A man who likes his figurines to be arranged in a certain order on his shelf. A man who doesn't care for people who undo what he's already sought out to create . . .

A man who . . . doesn't mind getting his hands dirty.

Affiliations:

We know he has his claws in the pool, but we don't know how far they reach. His influence has only been affecting the world for over a decade while others only recently have begun to show signs of loyalty.

The most prominent organizations would be . . .

The Black Ice Clan, run and directed by a man named Black Tack. A ever looming organization that's taken hold of the Northern Hemisphere, specifically within the Atlantic Ocean. Their methods are chilling to say the least. No one knows exactly how they've kept control for so long, but that's not to say anyone is eager to dethrone them either. [ Danger Level: 10 ]

The Jersey Gang, a rather up and coming group that has more recently taken hold of the lower swells of Zootopia, although their origins lie in Latin America and Japan. Not as prominent or notable as others who had their time in the sun, but they've proven useful in recent events. They are directed by a man by the name of Capone Redsurge. [ Danger Level: 8 ]

That just leaves. . .

The Order of the Light . . .

Somehow this organization is even more illusive than its competitors. No one is sure what it is or who runs it. But one thing is for sure, it may very well be the most dangerous group in the world.

[ Danger Level: 11 ]

Others:

It's not always clear which allies the Spectator chooses, and it's even harder to know if they even know him at all. In the past there have been claims, some gangs even worship his name although they've never actually come into contact with him. But there are some notable names that the A.S.A. likes to keep an eye on . . .

Professor Julias Copper . . . Investor & Chairman of the A.S.A.

Status: Supervised

Old Colleague of Professor Kelp, Known to be less reliable on the A.S.A.'s behalf.

[ Danger Level: 5 ]

Mr. King . . . Organizer, Promoter, & the Main Investor of the Rimba Grand Prix (RGP)

Status: Supervised

Currently under supervision by the IBD or International Bureau of Defense — Being Investigated for the death of Mr. Riq Harimau

[ Danger Level: 5 ]

Roxy Raider . . . International Thief

Status: Missing

Currently under the charge of Larceny, Embezzlement, Extortion, and a slew of other fraudulent activities.

(Previous) Partnership with the Crimson Paw — Status: No longer speaking . . .

Enemy of C.L.A.D.E.

[ Danger Level: 8 ]

The Crimson Paw . . . International Thief

Status: Reformed

(No longer in league with The Spectator)

Legal Name: Diane Foxington — Govenor of Los Angeles, California

Affiliated with the up and coming, " Bad Guys " — Relationship Unclear

[ Danger Level: 8 ]

Dr. Octavius Brine . . . Geneticist, Experimental Scientist, International Menace

Status: In Hiding

Legal Name: David the Octopus (Dave)

Enemies with North Wind

[ Danger Level: 9 ]

Dawn Bellwether . . . Former Mayor of Zootopia & Cause of the Nightcrawler Outbreak

Status: Imprisoned

"Prey" Activist . . . Being Charged for Attempted Murder and the Transportation/Mistreatment of Nightcrawler Toxins

[ Danger Le͉͎̱̗͖͙̼͍ͪͪ̽̑͊́͢v̷̩̣̗̩͇̦̠͈̥̻̗̣͚̺̎͂̀́̏̀̕e̒ͦ̇̈҉͙͓̳ͩ̃͛̊̒̄͞҉̖͚̪͙l̤̯̞͖ͦ̈ͬ̀: ̹̗͉̹̣̦̤̤̦͗̾̀̐5̙͙̙̘͕͉̹ͩ͂̽ͧͨ ]

⋘ 𝙎𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 ⋙

⋘ 𝑳𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒂 ⋙

⚠ 𝑬𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓 ⚠

⋘ ↻ 𝑹𝒆𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒉 ↻ ⋙

⋘ 𝙎𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 ⋙

⋘ 𝑳𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒂 ⋙

Jasper & Garnétte . . . Heads of the Opaline Emporium & Parlor

Status: Unknown

Two brothers with a deep understanding of the higher markets.

Heirs to the Johar Family, a cabal rooted heavily in both São Paulo, Brazil & Mumbai, India.

Wanted for First Degree Murder, Arson, and Larceny — Known to deal in Black Market Trades in high end gemstones.

No Further Information Available

[ Danger Level: 10 ]

p0nd_5k473r . . . Master Hacker & Dark Web Specialist

Status: Unknown

Tech Specialist — Cause Unknown

Legal Name: Stacy Rana Phrynee

[ Danger Level: 8 ]

Smokes . . . Leader of the Backyard Bruisers

Status: Unknown

High Ranking Gangster

No Further Information Available

Legal Name: Mateo Crudele

[ Danger Level: 9 ]

The Mad Hatter Trio . . . Master Thieves, Hackers,

Status: Unknown

Legal Names: Sean McCauley, Casey Hackney, Mallory Hughes

Sean (Hatter) — Methods Unclear, Currently identified as the leader of the group.

Casey (March Hare) — Loose Cannon, Dangerous to work with, Unpredictable, Weapons

Mallory (Dormouse) — Careful & Precise, Calculated Assailant, Hacker

No Further Information Available

[ Danger Lev̷̩̣̗̩͇̦̠͈̥̻̗̣͚̺̎͂̀́̏̀̕e̒ͦ̇̈҉͙͓̳ͩ̃͛̊̒̄͞҉̖͚̪͙l̤̯̞͖ͦ̈ͬ̀: ̱̘̦̏̄ͧ͂͆͘͞1͕͇̱̙͈̂̾̿̈͒ͅ0̧̢̱̯̺͓̜̳̗̗ͨ͐̔͆]

⋘ 𝙎𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 ⋙

⋘ 𝑳𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒂 ⋙

. . .

Hello.

Y.N.

:)

⋘ 𝙎𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 ⋙ ⚠ 𝑬𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓 ⚠ ⋘ 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 ⋙

[ See " The Villains of the A.S.A. " for Reference ]

[ Official Crossover List ]

(Redesigns Coming Soon)

[bishovapls]

Undercover - Part 1: It is all an act…

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff & Wanda Maximoff

Summary: This is a two-part story in which Wanda has been living at the compound for months, she is lonely, sad, and nursing a growing crush on a certain redheaded assassin. It doesn’t mean anything, of course, she’s just touch-starved… or so she tells herself. But when she and Natasha are sent on an undercover mission, posing as an engaged couple at a luxury resort, Wanda is faced with a new challenge. Can she keep her feelings in check, or will Natasha completely shatter her self-control?

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Angst. Unresolved Sexual and Romantic tension (maybe it will be resolved?). Mentions of HYDRA and Red Room abuse (not detailed). Slow burn but also not? Eventual smut (part 2).

A/N: I have to be honest, I read a fic where Clarke and Lexa (from The 100) did an undercover relationship thing, and I could not stop thinking about WandaNat. The chances that this has already been done are very high, but once the idea got stuck in my head, I just had to write it.

Also, it’s Wanda’s birthday, so really, what better time to post a new fic, right? 🎉

Part 1 starts below the cut, you can also find the fic on AO3.

Part 1: It is all an act…

Part 1 summary: In this part we’re introduced to Wanda and the mission, getting a glimpse into her life at the compound, lonely, uncertain, and full of angst. As the mission begins, Natasha’s relentless teasing and flirtatious words start to wear Wanda down, making it harder for her to keep her emotions in check. (11k words).

------

Wanda wakes to the low hum of the compound’s ventilation system, the sound barely enough to fill the suffocating quiet. The early morning light seeps through the curtains, painting pale streaks across the ceiling, but she doesn’t move. She never sleeps past 4 a.m.…not since coming here.

At first, she convinced herself it was just the nightmares, the way they clawed at her mind the moment she let her guard down. But she knows it’s more than that. It’s the silence. The unbearable, oppressive silence of this place.

Before the compound, it had never been quiet. Her childhood had been filled with noise, gunfire rattling in the distance, bombs shaking the ground, men barking orders in sharp, guttural tones. Even in the cramped space of their tiny apartment, there was always something. Her mother humming an old lullaby. Her father murmuring to her mother in hushed voices late at night, trying to pretend the war wasn’t creeping closer. The distant rumble of tanks rolling through the streets. 

And then, the war took them, and the streets of Sokovia became home. There, the noise was different, harsh voices echoing from alleyways, the clatter of market stalls, the distant hum of a radio playing somewhere unseen. And always, always, the sound of Pietro. His steady breathing beside her when they slept on the cold ground. The way he never truly stopped moving, even in sleep, shifting and mumbling in a way that had once annoyed her but now haunted her.

And then, there was HYDRA. That noise was something else entirely. Raw, agonising screams that never seemed to stop. The metallic clang of doors slamming shut, the hum of machinery, the harsh crackle of voices through speakers, detached, emotionless. The sharp, echoing ring of gunfire, and the inevitable silence that followed. Noise meant life. Noise meant she wasn’t alone.

But here, in the compound, the silence stretches endlessly around her. It presses in on her like a thick fog, making the space feel too big, too empty. She has settled into a routine now, though it feels more like existing than living. Most of her day is spent alone, save for training, time spent with Vision, and the team dinner in the evening. She clings to those fleeting moments of companionship, the rare times when she isn’t just a ghost moving through the compound. But she never asks for more.

She could. She knows that. She could walk up to any one of them and ask to spend time together. They would say yes. They always try to make her feel like she belongs. But Wanda has never quite accepted it.

Not when she was with HYDRA. Not when she let them twist her into something she barely recognises. Not when she invaded the minds of the very people who now sit at the same table as her, pretending not to remember what she did to them.

Each morning begins the same. Wanda wakes, stares at the ceiling for far too long, and fights the pull of exhaustion that never seems to fade. Eventually, with a slow exhale, she forces herself to move.

She swings her legs over the side of the bed, presses her feet to the cool floor, and rubs the lingering haze of sleep from her eyes before making her way to the en-suite bathroom (an absurd luxury she’s never had before but one she’s quietly grateful for).

Her routine is quick, almost automatic. A hot shower to shake off the stiffness in her muscles. Brushing her teeth, tying her damp hair back, smoothing on a light layer of makeup, just enough to make her reflection look a little less pale. Then, as always, she pulls on her gym clothes before heading to breakfast.

Pepper had filled her wardrobe the day after she arrived, an entire collection of carefully chosen clothes in soft fabrics and expensive cuts. Anything she could ever need, neatly folded, waiting for her. But most of it remains untouched. She hasn’t left the compound in four months and hasn’t needed dresses or heels or anything that belongs to a life outside these walls. So she lives in gym clothes, in sweatpants, or in pyjamas. The elegant wardrobe remains pristine, tags still attached, but she’s thankful for it nonetheless.

Despite most of the Avengers being early risers, the compound still feels eerily empty when Wanda makes her way downstairs around five. The kitchen and common area are silent, the kind of heavy quiet that makes the space feel even larger than it already is.

As she steps inside, FRIDAY flicks on the lights and starts the kettle without being asked. Wanda appreciates it, just enough warmth and movement to make the silence feel less oppressive. She moves on autopilot, pouring herself a cup of tea and wrapping her hands around it, letting the heat seep into her fingers. She lingers there for a while, staring out at the darkened landscape beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, listening to the faint hum of the compound waking up around her. Eventually, she grabs a piece of toast and some fruit, something small just to get her through training.

The next step in her routine is always the same, back to her room, book in hand, waiting for 7 a.m. That’s when the world finally stretches beyond the suffocating silence, when she gets her first taste of human interaction for the day. She never knows who will be training her until she arrives, but it doesn’t matter. Any interaction is better than none.

Steve is patient but firm, guiding her through endurance drills with quiet encouragement, always pushing but never breaking. Tony, in his own chaotic way, has taken an interest in refining the precision of her powers, integrating tech into her combat style, occasionally dragging Vision in as an extra set of hands.

Training with Natasha, however, is something else entirely. It’s an exercise in control, not just of her abilities, but of herself. Natasha is always a step ahead, sharp and calculating, teaching Wanda not just how to react but how to anticipate,

Every session is a battle of wills, Wanda fighting to keep up, to match Natasha’s effortless precision, to ignore the teasing smirks and pointed remarks that make her pulse stutter. She tries not to let the warmth rise to her cheeks when Natasha watches her with that assessing gaze, sharp and unreadable, or worse, when she smiles, slow and knowing, like she can see the effect she has on her.

And when Natasha has her pinned, bodies pressed too close on the mat, Wanda has to will herself to stay focused, to steady her breathing, to pretend the heat crawling up her spine is from exertion and not from the way Natasha’s breath ghosts against her skin. Because Natasha is everything she is not. She moves with an effortless confidence, like she belongs in every space she enters, like she owns the very ground beneath her feet.

It’s infuriating.

It’s fascinating.

It’s distracting.

It’s fucking hot.

Wanda had known Natasha was beautiful from the moment she first laid eyes on her. It was an undeniable fact, something that struck her immediately but had remained distant, nothing more than an objective observation. But the more time they spent together, the harder it became to not notice. The teasing smirks, the taunting little “keep up, Maximoff” whenever Wanda stumbled, the way Natasha would pin her to the mat with a smirk that made it impossible to think; it all chipped away at the fragile barrier Wanda had built between admiration and something dangerously close to desire.

She had tried to convince herself it was just the physicality of it all. Training with Natasha meant constant contact, fingers brushing against skin, bodies pressed together in a fight for dominance. Wanda wasn’t used to that. She had spent years isolated, first in HYDRA’s cold, unfeeling grasp and then in the uncertain limbo of joining the Avengers. Between the two, there had been very little warmth, and even less female company. 

That had to be the reason why she felt Natasha’s presence so much, why it lingered even after they had stepped away from each other. And if she sometimes whispered her name with her fingers buried inside herself during her post-workout shower? Well, it wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t feelings. It was just proximity, just touch-starvation. That was all.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

Wanda has always known exactly who she is. Even with her past, there was never a moment of doubt, never a struggle to understand herself, she has liked women for as long as she can remember. It isn’t complicated, isn’t something she wrestles with. It’s simply a fact, an unshakable truth woven into the fabric of her being.

But she hasn’t shared this with the Avengers. Not because she’s ashamed, she isn’t. It’s just easier this way. There are two reasons for it, the first being the most obvious: she doesn’t know how they’ll react. Not that she thinks they would care, not really, but she’s spent too much of her life being treated differently. She doesn’t want to give anyone a reason to see her as anything but Wanda, and so she keeps it to herself.

The second reason, though…that one is a little more complicated. If Natasha knew, then suddenly, Natasha would know. And with that knowledge, every sparring session, every moment where Wanda’s chest heaved beneath the weight of Natasha’s body pinning her down would take on an entirely different meaning to the widow. No longer would she just see exertion, no longer would it just be an effect of training. And Wanda can’t have that.

Luckily for Wanda, everyone seems to think she’s involved with Vision. It’s not true, of course, but she doesn’t bother fully correcting them, she neither confirms nor denies them. She spends a lot of time with him, not because there’s anything romantic between them, but because he’s a source of comfort in a place that often feels too big and too empty. He’s not human, but he’s more than just a machine, even if Natasha jokingly calls him a "toaster," (Wanda can’t help but crease with laughter every single time).

Vision listens to her in a way no one else does. He asks her how she’s feeling, genuinely wants to know what’s on her mind, even discusses things that have nothing to do with the Avengers or their missions. He doesn’t rush her, doesn’t pressure her to speak when she’s not ready. When the weight of everything gets too much, he’s the one who offers her a quiet hug, his arms steady and warm in a way that feels safe.

Wanda can see why people would think there’s something more between them. It’s easy to mistake the closeness, the time they spend together. But she’s never tried to shut down the rumours. It’s simpler this way…let them believe it, let them see what they want to see. 

By the time evening rolls around, Wanda’s favourite part of the day has arrived. The quiet of the compound transforms into the low hum of voices, and for a few precious hours, she feels like she’s part of something, like she belongs. Dinner is always when the team gathers, the chatter filling the air, and for the briefest moment, she forgets the weight of the silence that usually follows her around.

Wanda started cooking for the team about a month in, after realising that they survived mostly on takeout. She couldn’t sit back and watch any longer. She wasn’t going to let her skills go to waste, especially when she knew the food she made could bring something different to the table.

But when the meal is over, when the laughter fades, and the hum of conversation dies down, everyone goes their separate ways. Even Vision leaves to work with Tony in his lab. Slowly, the room empties until she’s the only one left, the only one still sitting at the table, feeling the weight of silence press in.

She tells herself she doesn’t mind. She’s gotten used to it. The quiet, the stillness, the space where once there was chatter, warmth, and comfort. It’s a routine now. She’s fine. Really.

That’s why it was so damn shocking when, after months of her routine staying exactly the same, she was called to the meeting room by FRIDAY. Her heart leapt into her throat as soon as she heard the request, and a cold sweat began to bead at the back of her neck. The first thought that spiralled through her mind was simple, yet terrifying: They’re getting rid of me.

Her pace was fast, and she could feel the tension in her chest tighten with each step she took. Her hands instinctively clenched at her sides, trying to keep her nerves in check. She tried to calm herself, but the fear gnawed at her. 

When she stepped into the meeting room, though, the confusion hit her like a punch to the gut. Director Fury, Maria Hill, and Natasha were already there, waiting. Wanda’s mind raced, trying to make sense of it.

What is going on? Why is Natasha here? What could this be about? She had no answers, just a thousand questions flooding her brain.

Fury gestured to the seat across from Natasha. "Please sit, Maximoff," he said, his authoritative voice smooth but carrying the weight of someone used to being obeyed.

Wanda nodded quickly, her heart pounding in her throat, and made her way to the seat. As she lowered herself onto the chair, her gaze inadvertently met Natasha’s, and she gave a nervous, tight smile. But Natasha’s response was a smirk, like she knew exactly what this was about, like they were already one step ahead of her. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, doing her best to keep her voice steady, but her nerves made her sound smaller than she’d hoped.

Fury spoke again, his eyes never leaving her. “I need you for a mission.”

Wanda’s breath caught in her throat. Shock hit her so hard it felt like the air left her lungs entirely. A mission? Me? Her hands twisted nervously on the table, her fingers twitching as if trying to find something to grip, something solid. She had barely been training for a few months, and her powers still felt like they were slipping through her fingers half the time. She didn’t trust them, didn’t trust herself. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words stumbled out. “W...what? Me? No I—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Natasha cut in, her voice soft but reassuring as she reached across the table. Her hand gently covered Wanda’s, stilling the nervous fidgeting of her fingers. The warmth of Natasha’s touch grounded her for just a moment, and she dared to look up at her. Natasha’s smile was small, almost knowing. “You can do this,” Natasha said, her tone strangely gentle, her eyes steady. “Just hear them out.”

Wanda nodded quickly, swallowing her anxiety, but still felt the uncertainty cling to her like a second skin. She turned back to Fury and Maria, who were both watching her with expectant eyes.

Fury continued, his voice unwavering. “We need you to go undercover. Now, I know you haven’t been training long, but this isn’t a combat mission. It’s an intel mission.”

Wanda’s eyes went wide, her mouth hanging slightly open. The shock had her frozen, still trying to process the words. The thought of doing anything that involved her out in the field made her stomach churn. She was still so new to all of this. She had barely scraped the surface of what it meant to be an Avenger, let alone take on an undercover mission. She opened her mouth again, but no sound came out.

Maria, noticing Wanda’s silence, continued in Fury’s place, her voice firm but kind. “We’ve been tracking a few HYDRA agents. They’re known for their involvement in the arms-dealing ring. Recently, they booked a stay at a high-profile luxury villa. It could be nothing, maybe they’re just on holiday. But we suspect it’s a front for something else.” She leaned forward slightly. “It’s your job to get into their room and extract any data they have. We need to know what they are doing, when and why.”

Wanda sat there, her mind blank. Her body stiffened, her heart hammering in her chest. Her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. The fear gnawed at her. This wasn’t just some undercover mission to steal a few papers or gather some information. This was about HYDRA. The people who had controlled her once. People who still haunted her nightmares. The idea of putting herself in the middle of that terrified her.

She could barely get the words out, her voice barely a whisper. “I… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Natasha’s hand, still resting on hers, gave a slight squeeze. Wanda looked up at her, but Natasha didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. There was understanding in her eyes, and something else too, something like quiet confidence.

Maria’s voice brought Wanda back to the present, though the weight of the conversation was still pressing heavily on her chest. “Look, Wanda. We know this is a lot. We need someone who can get close without raising suspicion. You’ve been training, and you’ve got the skills to do this.”

Her stomach twisted, and her heartbeat quickened as she fought to steady her breath. Her eyes flickered to Natasha, who was sitting so effortlessly across the table, cool, collected, confident…everything Wanda was not. Natasha’s gaze met hers, unreadable but steady. Wanda swallowed hard. She felt small in comparison, like she was standing at the edge of a cliff and didn’t know how to climb down.

“Why can’t Natasha do it?” she blurted out, her voice trembling before she could stop herself. “She’s the best for this. She’s... experienced. She’s—”

Fury cut her off, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “Natasha is doing it,” he said with finality, his voice as steady as ever. “You’ll be going with her. As a newly engaged couple, for cover.”

Wanda felt the air leave her lungs in a rush. Her chest tightened, and the room felt like it was closing in around her. She almost couldn’t breathe, her mind reeling with the shock of it all. The thought of having to pretend to be Natasha’s fiancée sent a rush of panic through her. The idea of getting that close to Natasha, of acting like they were something they weren’t, it was suffocating.

"Why... uh, doesn't Clint, Tony, Steve, or anyone else, really do it with her?" she asked, her voice higher than she wanted it to be, the words tumbling out too quickly. "They have way more experience than I do."

Maria rolled her eyes at Wanda’s questioning, clearly losing patience. “Because it’s a gay resort, Wanda,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “The cover only works with you. You’re the one who fits.”

The ground seemed to shift beneath Wanda’s feet as Maria’s words sank in. Wanda had never felt more out of her depth in her entire life. “What if I can’t do this?” Wanda whispered, her voice breaking as the weight of the situation hit her full force. “What if I mess it up? I…I’m not ready. I can’t.

Natasha’s expression softened, but there was no pity in it, only quiet confidence. Natasha’s eyes met hers, and Wanda could see the silent understanding in them. Natasha knew how hard this was for Wanda, how out of her depth she felt. But there was no doubt in Natasha’s gaze, she was ready. Natasha believed in her.

“You can do this,” Natasha said softly, her voice steady and full of assurance. “Just follow my lead. We’ll be fine.”

Wanda opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The fear was choking her, suffocating her, and for a moment, she couldn’t even breathe. Her mind was racing, spinning in a million different directions, but none of them made sense. 

She wasn’t ready for this mission but she knew she had no choice. Taking a shaky breath, Wanda finally nodded, her throat tight. “Okay, I’ll do it,” she whispered, though the words felt foreign on her tongue. She could barely get them out. “I’ll try. I’ll—” Her voice faltered, but she didn’t finish the sentence.

For all her doubts, for all her insecurities, the mission was real. There was no backing out now. She couldn’t let the fear swallow her whole, no matter how badly she wanted to retreat to a safer place. This was her chance to start doing good, and she was definitely going to take it.

------

Three days later, Wanda and Natasha found themselves at the entrance of a luxury resort, stepping out of the sleek black car that had been arranged for them. The moment they stood in front of the grand doors, Wanda felt the weight of their cover press against her, every step feeling heavier than the last. 

Their outfits screamed expensive, carefully selected, flawlessly put together and their luggage was no different. Bespoke suitcases, gleaming and pristine, made them look like two wealthy tourists with no care in the world. To top it all off, the oversised engagement rings on their fingers caught the sunlight, drawing attention with every movement. 

Natasha walked ahead, confident and poised, her posture perfect as she approached the check-in desk. Wanda followed closely behind, trying to match her step, though she felt like a clumsy shadow beside the seasoned widow. 

As Natasha stepped up to the counter, she reached for Wanda’s hand, intertwining their fingers with a practised ease. Wanda’s pulse skipped as Natasha’s touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. Natasha was in full control, her smile wide, her voice smooth as she slipped into her persona.

“Room for Jones?” Natasha said, her tone warm and inviting, a hint of playfulness in her words. She was already playing the role, perfectly.

The woman behind the counter looked up with an immediate smile. “Ah, our newly engaged couple! Welcome to you both,” she said, beaming at them with a sincerity that made Wanda’s stomach twist.

Natasha returned the smile, her eyes gleaming with an almost dangerous charm. She pulled Wanda’s hand toward her, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her knuckles. Wanda’s heart raced, the kiss lingering far too long, and it took everything in her to stay calm. She could feel the warmth of Natasha’s lips against her skin, the gentle pressure that had her pulse skipping erratically.

“Thank you so much,” Natasha said brightly, turning her gaze to Wanda, her smile widening. “Kate and I are so excited to be here! The reviews and photos of this place look amazing.” Natasha’s words flowed so naturally, the excitement in her tone convincing enough to make anyone believe this was just another vacation for a happy couple.

“I know I’m biased,” the woman behind the counter continued, her smile broadening even further, “but this place is great. You two will have a lovely time. Your room is 412, fourth floor.”

“Thanks!” Natasha said, her voice smooth and casual, never faltering, as though she had done this a hundred times. Wanda’s gaze flicked over to her, but Natasha was already looking back at the attendant, nodding gratefully.

Wanda opened her mouth to speak, to say something, but all she could manage was a smile. She felt utterly paralysed by the weight of it all, the fake ring, the fake smiles, the fake love she was supposed to be selling to the world.

A porter stepped forward to take their luggage, interrupting Wanda’s spiralling thoughts. Natasha led the way toward the customer elevator, pulling Wanda along with her, still holding her hand firmly.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and Natasha stepped inside without hesitation. Wanda hesitated for a moment, taking in the sprawling lobby around them, the high-end furnishings, the wealthy guests milling about, the buzz of luxury and relaxation that seemed so foreign to her. She stepped in, the doors closing behind them.

“So… Kate,” Natasha said with a teasing smirk, leaning against the elevator wall, her eyes scanning Wanda. “What do you think about this place?”

Wanda chuckled softly, a little breathless. “Well, Natalia,” Wanda replied with a playful grin, trying to mask her discomfort, “it’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, the smile on her lips growing more amused. “Really?” she asked, her tone light but with that underlying edge of amusement that Wanda couldn’t help but notice.

“Yeah, didn't get much time for luxurious holidays while I was at HYDRA,” Wanda whispered, her voice cracking slightly, though she pushed through it. “Everything’s so… perfect here.” She glanced at Natasha, the words laced with more than just observation. Every time Natasha looked at her with that easy confidence, she was reminded just how far out of her depth she was. How unprepared she felt for this, pretending to be Natasha’s partner, in public, in a place like this.

Their names and personas had been meticulously chosen to ensure they fit the cover. Natasha had become Natalia Jones, a US national, energetic, a fitness enthusiast, and a lawyer, an easy character for her to slip into, almost second nature. Wanda, on the other hand, was Katarina “Kate” Novák, a book reviewer from Slovakia. Close enough to Sokovia for the accent to make sense, but far enough removed to avoid suspicion. 

Natasha stepped closer, her gaze lingering on Wanda for a moment longer than was necessary. The flicker of something unspoken passed between them, but Wanda couldn’t place it. Seemingly without warning, the elevator dinged softly as they reached their floor, and Natasha stepped out first, glancing over her shoulder with that quiet expectation in her eyes. 

She held her hand out to Wanda, a simple gesture that made Wanda’s heart stutter in her chest. For a split second, she forgot everything, forgot the mission, forgot her nerves, and everything that was at stake. All she could focus on was the warmth of Natasha’s fingers, so close, so easy.

This is just an act, she reminded herself, forcing her fingers to straighten, to reach out, to accept. Natasha wasn’t offering her hand because she wanted her to take it. She was doing it because it was part of the cover, to sell the illusion that they were a couple. Nothing more. 

Her heart was still racing, and she tried to force a smile, masking the nerves that threatened to spill over. "Right," she murmured under her breath, making sure nothing seemed off. She needed to act like she belonged in this world, like she belonged with Natasha. 

They made their way into the suite, and Wanda stopped just inside the door, taking it all in. It was huge, bigger than anything she’d ever seen, bigger than the rooms in the compound, even. The bed was massive, easily the size of a small kingdom, and the suite was filled with plush sofas, flat-screen TVs, and a walk-in wardrobe that seemed to stretch on forever. 

And then it hit her. Her stomach lurched. There was only one bed. Of course there was. They were supposed to be engaged, pretending to be in love. She could feel her pulse quicken as she stared at the bed.

As Natasha casually threw herself onto the side of the bed closest to the door, Wanda froze. Before Wanda could even react, Natasha spoke, her voice casual. "I assume it’s okay for me to take this side, right? I just like being close to the door.”

Wanda blinked, her mind struggling to catch up. “Oh... uh, yeah, you can have the bed?” She phrased it as a question, her voice uncertain, unsure. She wanted to add something, to make it clear that she didn’t mind sleeping on the couch hell, she’d sleep on the floor if she had to, but the words wouldn’t come.

Natasha chuckled, leaning back against the pillows as if the entire situation were no big deal. "You can stay with me. This bed is huge, and it’s so comfy.” before her voice dropped into that familiar teasing tone. “And I promise I won’t bite,” she said with a smirk, “… unless you want me to.” 

Wanda’s heart leapt into her throat, hammering against her ribcage so violently that she was sure Natasha could hear it. She felt her face flush, her breath catching in her chest. The silence hung heavy between them, and Wanda stood there, frozen, unable to form a single word. She couldn’t look away from Natasha’s relaxed form on the bed, from the casual way she sprawled out, as if this were just another day, another mission. To Natasha, it is. 

Natasha’s voice broke through her thoughts again. "Oh, come on, Maximoff. You’re not sleeping on the sofa. Come here, before I make you.”

Wanda felt a strange kind of relief, but it was mixed with panic. Her hands were shaking as she grabbed her things, walking slowly over to the other side of the bed. “Thank you…” Wanda said quietly, her voice soft, almost lost in the air between them. 

“No problem,” Natasha said, her smile was soft, almost unreadable, before she stood up and made her way toward the bathroom. "I’ll be quick," she said casually, her voice smooth as she disappeared behind the door. Wanda nodded, even though Natasha couldn’t see her, and forced herself to focus on unpacking some of her things.

It was already late, and the fatigue from the long journey was starting to settle in, making her feel heavy-limbed and disconnected from her thoughts. As Natasha showered, Wanda forced herself to take slow, measured breaths. I can do this, Wanda told herself. I can sleep in the same bed, be normal. Friends share beds. it. Is. fine.”

She thought she had her panic under wraps, until the bathroom door opened again, and Natasha walked out. Wanda’s breath hitched in her throat as she tried not to react. Natasha emerged wearing a small pair of pyjama shorts and a loose, baggy top, her damp hair still clinging to the sides of her face as she absently dried it with a towel. It wasn’t the kind of outfit Natasha usually wore, there were no tight black clothes, no leather, no sleek, dangerous allure. Instead, it was something... softer, something that felt so domestic, so real in a way that made Wanda’s heart stumble in her chest.

She’d seen Natasha in skin-tight clothes a hundred times, but this... this was different. And the sight of her, looking so effortlessly relaxed, so human, made Wanda’s mouth dry. Her thoughts scattered, and a heat flooded her body, quickly moving from her cheeks all the way down to her core. 

Wanda’s heart pounded painfully in her chest. Get yourself together, Maximoff. Wanda bit down on her lip, forcing herself to look away, to focus on anything else. You do not like her like that. You don’t. It is just the room…the dim lighting, the lingering warmth of the shower still clinging to the air. It is the mission, the forced intimacy, the way we have to play pretend. That’s all it is.

It isn’t Natasha. It isn’t the way she moves, effortlessly graceful even in something as simple as drying her hair. It isn’t the way water is trickling down her throat, catching the hollow of her collarbone before disappearing beneath the oversized shirt. It isn’t the damp strands clinging to her skin, the scent of soap and something undeniably Natasha filling the air. 

No, it isn't any of that....Except….fuck….It is.

She couldn’t even lie to herself anymore. It took one day, one day with Natasha and she had already thrown out her excuses, one day, and she knew she was absolutely fucked. This was a crush and she was going to go down with it.

Natasha slipped into the bed, the soft rustle of the sheets breaking through Wanda’s thoughts. Wanda grabbed her things and rushed for the bathroom, barely keeping herself composed as she made her way towards the door. The second she was out of the room, she let out a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. The door closed behind her, and she leaned against it for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, her pulse still racing.

She wasn’t ready for this. Not for Natasha’s proximity, not for this situation, not for the way her heart refused to listen to reason. Wanda shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away as she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower letting the hot water wash over her, desperate to clear the fog from her brain. 

The shower did wonders for Wanda, washing away most of the tension and calming her nerves, though the heat still lingered under her skin. She managed to get herself out of the bathroom and into the bedroom without any further incidents. As she entered the room, she found Natasha lying on her side of the bed, her eyes focused on the screen of her phone. She seemed utterly at ease, scrolling through something without a care in the world. 

She slipped under the covers quickly, keeping her eyes trained on the bed as she turned away from Natasha and faced the wall. Wanda had hated the quiet of the compound, and she had to be honest, the gentle rhythm of Natasha’s breathing, the soft rustle of the sheets as she moved, it was oddly comforting. It made the stillness less suffocating. 

It reminded her of the nights she’d spent with Pietro, just the two of them, sharing the space without words, with the quiet comfort of simply being together. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push away the ache that spread through her chest at the memory. This felt like being home, it felt like she had someone again. This was dangerous.

Just as she began to drift off, her exhaustion pulling her under, Natasha shifted in the bed, settling fully. Despite the enormous size of the bed, Wanda could feel Natasha’s presence like a weight on her back, almost like she was pressing against her. She felt a flutter in her chest as Natasha’s breath brushed against her skin, sending goosebumps racing down her arms. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to ignore it, but her heart wouldn’t settle.

“Do you think your boyfriend will be mad that you’re sharing a bed with me?” Natasha’s voice was teasing, light, but Wanda’s heart skipped a beat.

She groaned quietly, already halfway to sleep as she turned over to look at Natasha. “I do not have a boyfriend, Natasha,” she muttered, but the words were out before she could think. The moment she said it, her mind screamed at her to shut up. She hadn’t meant to sound so defensive. And she hadn’t meant to forget that she wanted Natasaha to think that they were together, or to at least suspect it. 

Natasha chuckled softly, the sound sending another jolt through Wanda’s already frayed nerves. She could practically feel Natasha studying her, her sharp eyes reading between the lines. “No?” Natasha replied, voice still light but with a knowing edge. “What about the toaster?”

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh, a soft, breathless chuckle that she always had whenever Natasha called Vision that. Wanda shook her head, trying to brush off the sudden rush of heat. “He is not a toaster, Natasha,” she said, her words faltering slightly. “He’s basically a man,” she added, deflecting from whether she was his girlfriend or not.

Natasha smirked, clearly not letting the conversation go. “A man, hm?” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Seems like you’re a little defensive of your boyfriend.”

Wanda wondered why Natasha wasn't letting it go, did she know something? Nonetheless, she rolled her eyes, trying to play it off, but she could feel the blush creeping up her neck. “You are my fiancée, so I can’t have a boyfriend,” she said, once again trying to deflect.

Natasha chuckled, the sound low and amused. “You’re very good at deflecting, Maximoff,” she said with a playful tone that Wanda couldn’t quite decipher.

Wanda didn’t know how to respond to that. Natasha’s gaze met hers, soft yet knowing, and Wanda’s heart fluttered again, against her better judgment. The tension in the room felt thick, and Wanda wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to do this. There was no chance she could fool a spy who read people for a living, not when stuck so close. She just wanted to sleep and stop making a fool of herself, so she closed her eyes, cutting off the conversation before she could say something else she would regret.

“Goodnight, Katarina,” Natasha said teasingly before she turned over to face the opposite way.  

Wanda’s heart skipped again. “Goodnight, Natalia,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible. 

-----

As usual, Wanda woke up before 4 AM, despite only having fallen asleep around 11. She lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, her mind buzzing with thoughts. She listened to Natasha’s steady, soft breathing beside her, the gentle rise and fall of her chest that somehow made the silence of the room feel less oppressive. Wanda felt her mind slowly quieting, just listening to the rhythm of Natasha’s sleep. 

For once, she found herself falling back to sleep, her body sinking into the bed like it belonged there. She slept deeper than she had in what felt like forever, and she didn’t wake again until 6 AM when Natasha stirred beside her.

Wanda’s eyes fluttered open, and she was met with the sight of Natasha already awake, green eyes trained on her. The gaze was steady, almost predatory, and Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. “Good morning, fiancée,” Natasha said, her voice teasing, a small, almost mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “How are you?”

Wanda blinked, disoriented for a moment before answering. “Good,” she said, her voice hoarse from sleep. “This is the latest I’ve slept in months. I feel rested,” she added, not mentioning the nightmares that usually plagued her nights, or the fact that the silence of the compound often made her feel like she was crawling out of her own skin. She didn’t need to mention it, especially not now, with Natasha beside her, her presence so steady and calm. “How did you sleep?” 

Natasha stretched with a lazy smile, clearly more awake than Wanda. “Good,” she said, her voice thick with the remnants of sleep. “Ready for breakfast though. I’m starving.”

Wanda smiled, glad for the distraction. “Me too,” she said, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. The first day of their mission was meant to be spent casually, lounging around the resort, waiting for the targets to arrive. It was the perfect opportunity to get close to them, to strike up a conversation and gather intel without raising any suspicion.

Wanda quickly got out of bed and grabbed a bikini from her bag. It was a pale blue colour, simple but flattering. She got ready in the bathroom but as she finished changing she realised she’d forgotten to bring in her sundress that she planned to use to cover her bikini, at least for now. 

She sighed, shaking her head, then took a deep breath and walked back into the bedroom, hoping to get to the dress as quickly as possible without drawing too much attention. But as she reached for it, she felt Natasha’s gaze land on her. The air seemed to shift. There was something in the way Natasha’s eyes darkened, something that made Wanda’s stomach flip. She could’ve sworn Natasha licked her lips, though the moment was gone in an instant, replaced by that teasing smirk Wanda had become all too familiar with. You are seeing things, Maximoff, she scolded herself. 

“Wow,” Natasha said, her voice smooth and light, “Natalia is one lucky woman to have Kate on her arm.” She winked at Wanda as she made the remark, and Wanda felt the heat rush to her cheeks. It made sense now though, Natasha was just getting in character.

Wanda quickly turned away, grabbing the dress with shaking hands and muttering under her breath, “Shut up. Natalia doesn’t need to flirt in the room where no one can hear us.”

Natasha chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. “Can’t I compliment my fiancée?”

Wanda laughed, trying to keep the teasing mood light. “When you get one, sure,” she said, though the flutter in her chest made it harder to keep the sarcasm in her voice. Natasha was getting to her, and she hated how easily it was happening.

Wanda slipped into the sundress quickly, trying to ignore how her heart raced more than it should have as Natasha looked at her. But then Natasha, seemingly unaware of the chaos she was causing in Wanda's mind, slipped off her robe, revealing a stunning red bikini. Wanda’s breath hitched, and she felt as though she might choke on her own air.

Her gaze was drawn to Natasha’s every movement as she stood up, pulling a makeup bag from the side. Wanda couldn’t tear her eyes away, and she realised, far too late that she’d been staring. She quickly forced herself to look away, but it was too late. Natasha caught her, a knowing smirk spreading across her lips. “I’ll just be a minute,” Natasha said casually, as if the effect she had on Wanda was nothing out of the ordinary.

Wanda’s cheeks burned, but she tried to push the heat down, pretending like she hadn’t been caught. “What’s that for?” Wanda asked, glancing at the makeup in Natasha’s hand, desperate to change the subject.

Natasha pointed toward her stomach, where a darkened mark was visible just above her bikini line. It was shaped like a bullet wound, and Wanda felt a pang of sympathy before she could stop it. “Before makeup,” Natasha said, her voice almost too casual, “it was ‘bye-bye bikinis.’ But I’ve figured out how to cover the big ones now.”

There was a strange, almost imperceptible shift in Natasha’s expression as she spoke, something Wanda couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t anger, but there was an edge to it, a hint of something that felt almost like... hurt? Wanda’s heart squeezed at the thought. 

“Well,” Wanda said quickly, trying to lift the mood, “I’m sure Kate appreciates that the bikinis made a comeback.” She smiled weakly, hoping the attempt at humour would lighten the atmosphere.

Natasha’s lips quirked into a teasing grin. “You are right. I think Kate can’t take her eyes off Natalia,” she said with a wink. It was clear from her tone, from the look in her eyes, that Natasha was well aware that Wanda had been staring.

Wanda’s face flushed, her heart skipping a beat as she stammered, “H...hurry up, I want breakfast.”

Natasha’s smirk softened just a little, and she nodded, not pressing any further. “Coming right up, honey,” she teased. Wanda tried to regain her composure, but the words still felt heavy in her chest.

As Natasha finished with the makeup, Wanda fought to steady her breath, trying to drown out the warmth that lingered from the teasing, from the closeness, from the undeniable attraction that Wanda couldn’t shake.

She had to focus. This was a mission. But with Natasha so close, pretending had never felt so impossible. Natasha had slipped into her own dress for breakfast, a sleek, understated choice that somehow managed to look effortlessly amazing. Wanda couldn’t help but glance at her again as they made their way down to the hotel restaurant, their hands of course intertwining as they walked together to keep up the act. The proximity of Natasha beside her, the warmth of her hand in hers, sent a familiar jolt through Wanda’s chest, but she tried to focus on the task ahead, forcing herself to keep her thoughts in check.

As they sat at their table, the waiter greeted them with a bright smile. “Good morning, ladies. What may I get started for you today?”

Natasha smiled warmly at the waiter before replying. “I’ll have a black coffee and an omelette, please,” she said confidently, her tone smooth and relaxed. She then turned to Wanda, her eyes softening as she placed her hand on top of Wanda’s. “What would you like, my love?”

Wanda felt her entire body short-circuit at the words, her heart thundering in her chest, her breath hitching in her throat. She tried to speak but no sound came out. Her mouth went dry, and she shook her head, unable to form a coherent response. 

Natasha chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect she was having. “Forgive us,” she said to the waiter, her voice warm but laced with a hint of amusement. “She’s not a morning person.” Natasha turned back to Wanda, giving her a playful squeeze. “She’ll take a tea, some toast, and maybe some fruit too, please,” she added, her tone now soft and sweet, as if she were ordering for a beloved partner.

The waiter smiled at them both. “Coming right up!” he said cheerfully before walking off to place the order.

Wanda was still frozen in place, trying to regain her composure. When she finally managed to speak, it came out in a soft, slightly stunned whisper. “How did you know?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she leaned in just slightly, teasingly. “How did I know what?” Her voice was light and playful.

Wanda blinked, still trying to collect her thoughts. “What I have for breakfast?” she whispered so others could not hear, the question coming out almost incredulously.

Natasha tapped her nose, the playful glint in her eyes intensifying as she winked. “I know my fiancée very well,” she said with a teasing tone, clearly relishing in Wanda’s reaction.

Wanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though her smile betrayed her. “You are impossible,” she muttered, her voice a mixture of frustration and affection, though she couldn’t deny how much she liked this side of Natasha, her confidence, her teasing, the way she made everything feel natural, easy.

Natasha’s smirk softened into something warmer, a quiet satisfaction in her gaze. “Not impossible. You are just predictable,” she teased, leaning back in her chair and giving Wanda a wink. “But I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Wanda shook her head, still trying to shake off the feeling of warmth that had taken over her. The whole situation felt like too much, too real, too close and yet, there was a part of her that wanted to stay lost in this. In Natasha. 

The waiter returned with their drinks and breakfast, and Wanda could only hope she would have the strength to keep herself under control throughout the day.

-----

They settled onto two sun loungers by the pool, the bright sun beating down on them, the sound of the water rippling gently beside them. Natasha was effortlessly playing the role of the doting girlfriend, her movements graceful and confident as she laid out a towel for Wanda, arranging it just right. She went so far as to fetch a cold drink for her, placing it carefully beside her, the ice clinking softly in the glass. Next to them, each sun bed was taken, couples were everywhere and it was crucial they blended in.

Wanda settled into the lounger, trying her best to ignore the soft fluttering of her heart as Natasha's eyes skimmed over her, taking her in. “God, I am lucky to have you, babe,” Natasha said, her tone genuine, as if it were completely real. She is so good at this.

Wanda’s cheeks warmed instantly, but she played it off with a grin, responding in kind. “Not as lucky as I am, darling.” Her words carried a softness in them that she couldn’t quite control.

They both lay down on their sunbeds, the warmth of the sun comforting. Natasha put on her sunglasses, scanning the area with practised ease. To anyone else, she would have looked like just another woman enjoying the resort, relaxed and casual. But Wanda knew better. Natasha’s eyes were constantly moving, assessing, looking for anyone out of place. Looking for their marks.

Wanda settled into her spot, trying to focus on the feel of the sun on her skin, but Natasha leaned closer to her, her body nearly brushing Wanda’s as she whispered softly in her ear, her breath warm and tantalising. “No sign, keep an eye out,” Natasha murmured, her voice low and intimate. Then Natasha kissed her cheek to sell the illusion, the soft press of her lips sending a wave of heat through Wanda’s body.

Wanda physically shuddered, and it didn’t escape Natasha’s notice. The corner of her lips curled into a smirk, but she didn’t comment on it. She pulled away, sitting back and applying sun cream to her arms. Wanda mirrored her actions, though it took a lot more effort to stay calm, to pretend that this was just a normal day at the resort.

It was fine, at least until Natasha turned to her, the playful glint in her eyes never leaving. “Let me get your back?” she asked, her tone light but with an edge of affection. It was a simple request, one that most couples would share without a second thought.

Wanda froze. She had to do it. She had no choice. Couples do this, we need to do this.

Wanda nodded, her voice barely above a whisper as she mumbled, “Thank you.” She turned and laid flat on her front, trying to push away the rising panic in her chest.

Natasha climbed onto her with the fluid ease of someone who had done this a thousand times, sitting with casual confidence on the swell of Wanda’s ass. The shift in position was entirely unnecessary, it felt too intimate, too close when Natasha could have just rubbed the cream in from the sunbed next to her. Natasha began rubbing sun cream on her back, her hands smooth and firm as they moved across Wanda’s skin, leaving trails of cool lotion behind.

Wanda could feel the heat pooling in her body. Her mind scrambled for control, but it was useless. The weight of Natasha on her, the warmth of her hands, the simple but intimate nature of the act sent a rush of heat straight to her core. Every movement of Natasha’s hands, every shift of her weight, made Wanda’s heart race, and she couldn’t stop the way her body reacted, betraying her.

When Natasha finished, she didn’t move right away. Instead, she leaned down, her lips grazing Wanda’s spine as she planted soft, lingering kisses down her back. Each press of her lips sent a tremor through Wanda, and she let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding. Natasha’s lips were soft, but the feeling was anything but innocent. This is an act, this is an act, this is an act, she repeated in her mind, hoping to quell the thoughts and feelings. 

“Thank you, Natalia,” Wanda whispered, almost a plea, trying to dismiss the widow and get her to stop torturing her.

Natasha pulled away, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Come on, Kate,” she said with a teasing smirk. “My turn.”

With a sigh, she climbed onto Natasha just as Natasha had for her, her hands shaking slightly as she worked the sun cream into Natasha’s skin. But unlike Natasha, she didn’t linger. She didn’t want to. She focused only on the task at hand, her movements quick and efficient, anything to avoid the closeness, the tension between them. When she was done, she didn’t wait for Natasha to react. She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, trying to make it look more intimate than it actually was. As she pulled away, she quickly retreated, heart still racing in her chest. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. But it did. And Wanda couldn’t escape it. 

The day had settled into a familiar rhythm. Wanda had her book in hand, lost in the pages, while Natasha soaked up the sun, her relaxed posture looking like she belonged in this world of luxury and ease. Their mission hung in the background, but it was a quiet tension, the waiting. They both kept an eye out for their marks, though nothing much had happened for most of the day. Time seemed to stretch on.

Wanda adjusted in her lounger, flipping a page of her book, but the words had long since stopped registering. Her eyes kept drifting over the pool, catching the way the sunlight reflected off the water’s surface, distorting the blues and golds into something almost hypnotic. 

The distant hum of conversation mixed with the soft rustling of palm trees in the breeze, but none of it could settle the anxious energy thrumming beneath her skin. She was too aware of everything, of the mission, of the weight of the engagement ring on her finger, of the fact that Natasha was lying beside her, looking impossibly relaxed, as if this entire situation didn’t affect her in the slightest.

Wanda exhaled quietly, willing herself to focus on the book in her lap, but her gaze wandered again. It was then that she saw the two women at the bar. One blonde, her hair styled neatly, her frame petite but with a confidence that made her seem larger than she was. The other was taller, dark-haired, striking in a way that immediately commanded attention. The way they carried themselves, the effortless ease of their presence, sent a jolt through Wanda’s system. She hesitated, carefully studying them, but it didn’t take long for her instincts to confirm what her brain already knew. This was them.

She turned her head slightly, leaning toward Natasha, keeping her movements natural, careful not to make it obvious. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Natasha caught it instantly. “At the bar.”

Wanda watched the shift happen in real-time. One second, Natasha was lounging as if she had no care in the world, and then, in the next breath, she was all precision, her body still but alert, her muscles coiled beneath her skin like she was ready to pounce. Her head tilted slightly, her expression unreadable as she took in Wanda’s words, before she nodded once and sat up, adjusting herself with a casual grace that made it seem like she was merely stretching in the sun.

Then, just as effortlessly, she softened again, slipping back into her role like it was a second skin. She reached out, the tips of her fingers brushing against Wanda’s wrist, the contact light but intentional. When she spoke, her voice was honeyed, “Shall we get a drink, my love?”

Wanda barely had time to compose herself before she nodded, pushing past the ridiculous way her heart reacted to something that should have been nothing. “Yeah, I’m really thirsty,” she murmured, forcing herself to sound casual despite the absolutely explicit images her mind conjured up to deal with said thirst.

She stood, shaking her head to rid the images from her mind, extending a hand towards Natasha to help her up, an instinct more than anything else, a simple, natural gesture. But Natasha didn’t just take it, she held it, wrapping her fingers around Wanda’s. She used it to guide Wanda forward, pulling her closer than necessary, their bodies barely an inch apart before Natasha finally stepped ahead, leading them both toward the bar. Wanda’s skin burned under the weight of Natasha’s grip, her mind screaming at her to get a hold of herself, but it was impossible when everything felt like too much.

By the time they reached the bar, the two women were engrossed in their own conversation, unaware of their presence, and Natasha ordered herself and Wanda a drink with a confident ease, as if their marks were not stood right there. And then, before she could even register what was happening, Natasha moved. It was subtle at first, just the faintest brush of fingers against her side, light, teasing, barely there. But then Natasha pressed in just enough to tickle, and Wanda’s body jolted before she could stop it. 

“Ahh! Nat, stop! Stop!” Wanda squealed, twisting away from the touch, half-laughing, half-panicked as she swatted at Natasha’s hand. She could already feel the heat rushing to her face, the mortifying realisation that her reaction had been exactly what Natasha wanted. “Natalia!” she growled, trying to sound stern, but the amusement in Natasha’s eyes only deepened.

Natasha didn’t let her pull away. Instead, with a fluid motion that was too smooth, she yanked Wanda back against her. The movement stole the breath from Wanda’s lungs, and before she could process what was happening, Natasha leaned in, her lips pressing softly against the side of Wanda’s neck.

Wanda’s entire body froze, every nerve suddenly alert, her skin burning where Natasha’s lips had just been. Her breath stuttered, her chest tight, and she knew this was all for show, that Natasha was just playing a part, making them look natural, drawing attention to them in a way that would make it easier to strike up a conversation with the marks.

But knowing didn’t change the way her pulse jumped at the warmth of Natasha’s breath against her skin, didn’t stop the rush of heat flooding through her, didn’t stop the way her stomach clenched at the sound of Natasha’s voice. “I’m sorry, baby girl,” Natasha purred, her lips still impossibly close, her voice dripping with amusement. “You’re just too easy.”

Wanda’s body betrayed her once again, shivering under Natasha’s touch. The laughter of the two women at the bar broke through her daze, and suddenly, Wanda remembered where they were, why they were here. She forced herself to regain control, to focus. The mission. Their targets. Not Natasha’s lips on your skin, not her voice in your ear.

The blonde grinned at them, her eyes warm. "You two are so cute. Ah, to be young and in love," she sighed dreamily.

The brunette snorted, shaking her head. "Excuse me, I’m still young and in love," she teased, pressing a soft kiss to the blonde’s cheek.

The blonde laughed. "Darling, we’re in our forties. That is not young." She turned back to Wanda and Natasha with an amused smile. "Look at these two! Babies! Especially this cutie." She pointed at Wanda, her eyes raking over her in her bikini, lingering slightly too long on her breasts.

Wanda flushed, trying desperately not to let it show just how much her body was still reeling from Natasha’s touch. But Natasha wasn’t helping. Instead of brushing it off, instead of allowing Wanda a second to compose herself, Natasha only pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around Wanda’s waist and pressing their bodies together.

"She is very cute," Natasha said, her voice light, teasing, but there was something else there. Something Wanda couldn’t name. "And very mine."

The words sent a full-body shudder through Wanda before she could stop it. A small, breathless sound, barely more than a whimper escaped before she could swallow it down. It was quiet, barely noticeable, but Natasha heard it. She felt the way Wanda tensed, the way her breath hitched.

And Wanda knew, in that moment, that Natasha had caught her reaction. Wanda barely managed to recover. She reached for her drink in a desperate attempt to ground herself. "I am all yours, my love," she murmured, though the words felt heavier than she intended.

The brunette smiled, clearly enjoying the interaction. "We haven’t seen you two around before," she said. "When did you get here?"

Natasha responded, her tone light and full of warmth. "Oh, late last night. It’s our first day here. We’re so excited!" She turned to Wanda with a soft, loving look. "We just got engaged and thought, why not, you know?" she said, her eyes holding Wanda’s for just a second too long. Wanda couldn’t help but smile back, the affection in Natasha’s eyes pulling her deeper into the moment. 

The brunette raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed. "Oh, you have to join us tonight for drinks to celebrate!"

Wanda glanced at Natasha, waiting for her response, and Natasha nodded smoothly. "That would be lovely, if you don’t mind, of course!" she added with a warm smile.

The blonde spoke up again, clearly delighted by their acceptance. "Nonsense! You two seem fun, even if your fiancée is a little quiet," she joked, laughing lightly.

Wanda blinked at the comment before responding. "Well, you see, Natalia speaks so much I don’t tend to need to," she said, rolling her eyes for good measure. 

"Behave, Novák," Natasha growled softly in her ear, her lips brushing against Wanda’s skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her. "Or you won’t be the future Mrs Jones," she added with a playful nip on Wanda’s ear.

Both women at the bar laughed at the interaction, but Wanda felt her heart race in her chest, the pounding thrum of it echoing in her ears. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this act up, not with Natasha so close, teasing her, kissing her, making her feel things that were far too real, far too intimate for comfort. This is a fucking nightmare.

Before she got the chance to process further, the brunette smiled at them, introducing herself. "Oh, by the way, I’m Johanna, and this is my wife, Zoey."

Natasha smiled back, all charm and confidence, and introduced herself and Wanda in turn. "I’m Natalia, and this is Katarina."

"It’s lovely to meet you both," Johanna said, flashing a warm smile. "We’re going back to our room to change and get ready for dinner and drinks tonight. We’ll see you later!"

Wanda smiled back, trying to shake off the heat she could feel crawling up her neck. "See you later," she managed, her voice far too strained. Natasha nodded, her expression smooth.

As soon as the women turned away and began walking toward the elevator, Wanda immediately pulled herself away, her breath shallow as she downed her drink in one go, not caring about the burn of the alcohol. Natasha noticed, her gaze softening with concern. "What’s up?" she asked, her voice quieter now, an edge of worry creeping into her tone as she observed Wanda’s behaviour.

Wanda quickly plastered on a smile, "Nothing," she said, trying to sound unaffected. Then she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping low. "We should follow, yes?"

Natasha blinked, a flicker of confusion crossing her features. It didn’t take long for Wanda to realise that Natasha hadn’t thought of it herself. Natasha cleared her throat almost awkwardly, as if she’d been in her own world, not entirely present. "Yeah... yeah, we should," she agreed, her voice a little flat as if the idea had only just come to her. 

Wanda's stomach churned, why didn't Natasha think of this? She is the professional here but she nodded anyway, a quiet unease growing inside her. They moved quickly but carefully, hanging back in the lobby as they kept their eyes on the two women. The elevator doors closed, and the women disappeared from view.

They saw the elevator was headed to the fourth floor. “They are staying on our floor. Let’s go,” Natasha commented. Wanda felt a twinge of anxiety, but Natasha's grip on her hand was firm, almost possessive as they quickly made their way to the stairs.

When they reached the fourth floor, they slowed their pace, listening for any sound that might give away the women’s whereabouts. Natasha peeked around the corner, her movements calculated, like a predator watching her prey. Wanda felt a shiver run down her spine at the way Natasha’s posture shifted, all business.

Natasha’s head turned toward Wanda as she whispered, "They are two doors down from us."

Wanda nodded, heart pounding again. She felt the familiar flutter of nerves, but she pushed it down. This was their mission. This was what they were here for. Still, the heat in her chest didn’t fade, and her thoughts continued to spin.

"Let’s go to our room," Natasha said, her voice quieter now, more controlled. She pulled Wanda along once again, guiding her with that firm grip. When they got to their room, Natasha’s hand was still holding hers, though her grip had loosened slightly. It felt almost... intimate. They stepped into their room, the door clicking softly shut behind them, and Wanda let out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, it came out as a large sigh. 

"Wands, please. What’s wrong?" Natasha’s voice was quieter now, softer. She hadn’t let go of Wanda’s hand, her thumb absently grazing over her knuckles, a touch so small yet so utterly overwhelming that Wanda thought she might actually combust.

Wanda forced herself to look away, anywhere but into Natasha’s impossibly green eyes, because she knew if she met them for too long, she’d lose herself entirely. She swallowed hard before finally pulling her hand free, the loss of warmth immediate and almost painful.

"Oh, nothing," she lied, her voice steady enough to be convincing, even as her pulse raced. "Just nervous, I guess."

Nervous. That was the understatement of the century. Nervous didn’t cover the way her body felt like it was on fire, the way her skin still tingled from Natasha’s touch, the way she ached actually ached, for something she couldn’t have. She wanted to hold Natasha, to kiss her, but to actually do those things as Wanda, and not Kate.

Natasha studied her for a beat too long, her expression unreadable, though there was something in her gaze that made Wanda feel seen in a way she wasn’t sure she liked. Wanda held her breath, waiting, heart hammering. 

And then, Natasha sighed, her face dropping slightly clearly realising she wouldn't be getting the answer she wanted.  "Well, you’re doing great," she said easily, as if that was all that needed to be said. "Tonight will be fine. We are just hanging out, and hopefully finding out their schedule for tomorrow so we can find a way to sneak into their room.” Natasha moved closer, her eyes showing nothing but warmth, “You’ve got this, Little Witch."

Wanda barely managed a nod, mumbling a quiet, "Okay, thanks," before turning sharply on her heel and heading straight for the bathroom.

She needed to get out of this conversation. She needed out of this mission. And more than anything, she needed to get out of her own damn head, because she could not keep wanting Natasha Romanoff.

-----

Part 2

Part 2 summary: The mission is in full swing, and Wanda is doing everything she can to resist Natasha’s charm. After all, it’s just an act… right?