I heard the raphael tipsy audio (omg he’s so sweet and attached) and now I cant hep but wonder how all the guys would react to MC going on a long mission.
Zayne doesn't mope - or at least that's what everyone thinks when they see how he goes about his day normally regardless of the fact that you aren't currently home with him. He's perfectly professional at work - almost too professional. In actuality he's trying not to let the fact that you won't be there to welcome him home bother him too much.
When he goes home he finds himself more distracted than usual. He watches the clock until it's time for you to call him, noticeably calmer during the call. He doesn't want to talk about his day at all - he just wants to listen to your voice talking at him for as long as possible. He manages to trick you into speaking about your day the entire call, looking at you with such an affectionate gaze you can't help but melt under it.
He counts down the days until you come back, planning a nice quiet evening for the two of you to celebrate a job well done for when you finally come back to him.
Xavier tried to get assigned to the same mission as you in hopes that the two of you could spend the entire time together. When he failed to make that happen he pouted a little as you packed for the mission, trying to convince you to call out or do something that would let you stay home with him.
He's even more quiet at work, finding that there's not too much that catches his attention if it's not you. He makes conversation with the others at least but he doesn't seem to be all there. Everyone knows exactly why that is but they choose not to tease him because it's like kicking a dog while it's down.
He plans little online game dates for you two to do while you're working. Even if it's just card games and he has to hold up your hand to you he's more than happy to do so because he wants to spend time with you doing anything.
When you come back he's definitely a little clingier, not wanting you to go anywhere without him in a subtle manner. You can tease him all you want but he won't admit it, just saying that he's allowed to miss you since you were gone for so long.
Rafayel isn't very happy you have to go but he understands that you have to. He will complain a little despite also packing your bag for you, asking you to text him or call him - preferably video calls - whenever you can so he can see your cute little face. He doesn't want you to forget about him after all.
He's significantly more prone to getting frustrated or totally zoning out. His art always somehow comes back to you or he just sits there thinking about you in his downtime until it's time for you to call him. He immediately brightens up and is in a significantly better mood when he can talk to you again, happily working if you're there on the call.
When you finally get back he insists on making back all the missed cuddles he can. He has to make up for lost time and totally insists on doing so by keeping you in bed all day with his face buried in your chest.
Sylus asks if it's really necessary for you to be gone for so long. You have to remind him it's part of your job and he casually tells you that Mephisto will be tagging along for your safety. You know it's partially that, partially because he likes the idea of being able to see you whenever he wants. You also know there's no point in saying no to him and it'd help with his peace of mind so you agree anyway.
He doesn't obsessively check Mephisto's camera, surprisingly. He doesn't want to accidentally scare you off despite knowing that his every thought centers you. He finds himself missing you more than he thought he ever would, attributing it to the fact that now that he's had you he doesn't want to go back to what it was like without you.
When you finally come home to him he's made sure to have your favourite meal and some presents as your homecoming. The calls the two of you had were all poor replacements for your presence and he makes it known with how he laments it to you, telling you that he won't be letting you out of his sight any time soon.
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Like Seeing A Ghost.
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Prompt: Married life and family core.
Summary: Your teenage daughter changed styles, and you cant help but be remained of a certain someone.
Warnings: None. Just love and fluff.
WORD COUNT: 1490
AN: I wrote this under the wonderful influence of sleep depravation. I just corrected it grammatically. It’s the first time I have written a family related prompt, so sorry but it’ll probably be a bit cringey :´). YDN stands for: Your daughters name btw—
It was a quiet day in the Maximoff household, a rare sense of calm settling over the space. Humming softly, you switched off the vacuum and put it away, satisfied with the tidiness of the room. The peaceful silence was soon interrupted by the doorbell, drawing your attention with mild curiosity. “I’ve got it!” you called, making your way to the door. You didn’t need to check the peephole, you already knew who it was. “Darling, finally! Your mother is almost finished with—oh dear gods.”
You froze as your 16-year-old daughter stepped inside. Taking in her appearance, your eyes widened in surprise. She shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, clearly bracing herself for the reaction that didn’t come as quickly as she expected.
Gone were her typical morning clothes, replaced by a more alternative look. She wore an oversized black t-shirt featuring an old rock band, her arms covered in fishnet sleeves, fingers adorned with silver rings and chains. Her makeup, though still a work-in-progress, was heavy with black eyeliner and smudged dark red eyeshadow. A silver cross dangled from her freshly pierced ear. She completed the outfit with a mid-length skirt and red Converse sneakers. If it weren’t for her eyes—the same color as yours—you might not have recognized her at first. But even then, the look wasn’t unfamiliar. She resembled someone else you knew all too well.
“It’s… it’s—” you began, voice faltering. Your daughter braced herself even more, her posture defiant, though you could see flickers of uncertainty in her expression. That defiant stance finally broke your composure.
“It’s like seeing a ghost! Oh, my beautiful girl,” you exclaimed, bursting into delighted laughter. “It’s like going back in time. Wanda, darling, come here, please!” you called out, grinning at the uncanny resemblance.
Your heart swelled with nostalgia and amusement. You never thought you’d see such a familiar look on your own child, yet here she was, carrying a piece of the past into the present.
“What is it, love? Is it Y/D/N? I made her favorite,” Wanda called, wiping her hands with a kitchen towel before stopping abruptly. “Oh wow. This is… definitely a surprise.”
Your daughter, tired of the mixed reactions from both of you, crossed her arms defensively. “Before you say anything—no, I didn’t get any piercings or tattoos. But this is how I want to dress from now on. And if you have any issues with it, then…”
Your eyes softened at the sight of her defiance fading into vulnerability. You glanced at Wanda, who nodded. “Darling, you don’t owe us any explanations,” she said gently.
“I… don’t?” Y/D/N repeated, tentatively. You took a step forward, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Of course not. You know your mom and I want you to discover who you are. All we care about is that you don’t hurt yourself in the process. Why would you think we’d be upset?”
Your daughter’s shoulders relaxed as the tension eased. “A… friend of mine dresses like this, and her parents didn’t take it well. They told her if she didn’t dress ‘normal,’ they’d send her to some creepy summer camp.”
Wanda frowned. “Well, they’re idiots.” Your daughter smiled at that. “They are! Like your mom said, we’ll never judge you for who you are. All we want is for you to be safe and happy.”
With that, she smiled and pulled you both into a hug. “Thanks for being such cool parents.” You exchanged a glance with Wanda and hugged her back.
“I mean… if we weren’t, we’d be total hypocrites.” Your daughter tilted her head in curiosity, prompting a laugh from you as you moved toward the living room.
Wanda scoffed. “Oh, don’t you dare, Y/N,” she warned playfully, following close behind, already anticipating your next move. Before she could stop you, you pulled out the family photo album. Your daughter plopped down next to you on the couch, while Wanda took her place on the armrest, wearing a mock pout.
Flipping through the pages, you found what you were looking for. “Why haven’t I seen this before?” Y/D/N asked, eyes wide with interest.
“These are from years before you were born,” you explained softly, turning the album’s pages with care. “Most were taken when your mother and I first met. We kept them hidden… because she was a little shy about them.”
Wanda playfully nudged your arm, her smile a little bashful. “Do you really have to show them? I’d like for our daughter to still respect me, you know.”
You grinned, glancing at your daughter. “Of course, I do! I mean, just look at her. You two are practically twins—it’s adorable.”
Wanda rolled her eyes, though her blush deepened. “You’re having too much fun with this.”
As you flipped another page, your daughter gasped, eyes widening in disbelief. Wanda’s face turned a deep shade of red as she quickly covered her face with her hands, her embarrassment palpable. You, however, couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me you were so cool?” Y/D/N exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as she snatched the album from you, flipping through the pictures like a child on Christmas morning.
“What do you mean “were”?” Wanda huffed in mock offense. “I’m still cool!”
A brief silence followed, punctuated only by Wanda’s playful exasperation. You reached out, squeezing her hand, the warmth of her skin grounding both of you. The resemblance between mother and daughter was striking, as if time had folded in on itself. “That picture,” you said, pointing to a particular one, “was taken around the time I first met your mom. She was this emo, tough, and incredibly intimidating girl—” You started dramatically, glancing at Wanda, who shot you a half-hearted glare.
“Okay, okay, no need to humiliate me further,” Wanda cut in, trying to maintain some shred of dignity.
“Humiliate?” You softened your voice, your eyes meeting hers. “That was the version of you I fell in love with.” You turned another page, your tone warm and nostalgic. “I mean, the whole ‘bad girl’ thing really worked for me.”
“Mom, gross!” Y/D/N laughed, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust.
You nudged her playfully. “Oh, hush. What I’m trying to say is… I fell in love with that Wanda, and every version after her.”
With each page you turned, years passed in the photographs. Different styles, changing haircuts, moments of growth captured in still images. But one thing remained constant—your love.
“…and the next,” you continued quietly. “Because that’s what love is. It’s not about how someone dresses or looks. It’s about loving them for who they are, through every version, and with how they express themselves to the world.”
You closed the album gently and reached for your daughter’s hands, holding them tenderly. “That’s why no matter how you choose to present yourself, it will never change how we feel about you. You are our daughter, and we will always love you—no matter what.” Y/D/N smiled, her eyes bright with relief and understanding. Wanda, still blushing from your words, looked at both of you with so much love that it was almost overwhelming. A sudden thought crossed her mind, her lips curving into a small, playful smile.
“You know,” Wanda began, her voice light, “if you’re interested, I still have some of those clothes.”
Your daughter’s eyes lit up. “No way.”
“Oh yes, way. Why don’t you start by heading up to the attic? I’ll join you in a sec.”
In an instant, your daughter gave Wanda a quick, excited hug before practically running towards the stairs. You and Wanda exchanged a glance, bursting into quiet laughter. As you stood up, Wanda caught you by the waist, pulling you close, her eyes filled with nothing but love. For a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. She leaned in and kissed you, slow and tender.
“Mama! Do you still have that red jacket?” your daughter called from upstairs, breaking the moment. Wanda sighed, chuckling under her breath as she pulled away.
“I do!” Wanda called back, her voice filled with affection. “In fact, that jacket I stole from Auntie Nat!”
Another excited shriek echoed down the stairs, and you both shared a fond look.
“I better go before she tears down the attic,” Wanda said with a small smile, taking a step back.
You nodded, watching her as she began to leave, but she paused at the doorway and turned back, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
“Hey,” she whispered, “I am cool, right?”
A full, hearty laugh escaped you, the sound filling the room with warmth. “Yeah, Wanda. You’re the coolest.”
Wanda grinned, the playful tension melting away as she disappeared up the stairs, leaving you with a heart full of love and a smile that lingered long after she was gone.
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