Vermilion [Wanda Maximoff Imagines]

Blues and Bruises

Wanda Maximoff x reader

Summary : She saved you once, you could only hope she would do it again.

Warning(s) : violence, blood, mind controlled? sad

Words : 2.2k+

A/N : give it to me to take a long time for a short ass fic lmaoo, hope u enjoy this tho <3 [requested by anon]

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Days never got better around those grey, cold walls. The eerie silence, distant footsteps and whispers made you shiver, their wicked smirks and harsh commands haunting your nightmares. You hated feeling helpless, like there was nothing you could do to make it better, to dispose of the trauma they gifted, mentally and physically. Most of the time, the knocking on your door made you jump, and the faintest brush of someone’s skin against yours caused your breath to hitch and your heart to leap out of your chest. As days go by, it became easier – not with healing, but with hiding them from the team. They believed you were healing, finding the signs of lightening mood and humorous conversations easing their worries, if only for a little bit.

It did not go through with one person, though, and you scolded her and yourself over and over again for it. A part of you found it irritating that she kept on trying, observing you like a hawk and eyes that trailed after your figure in search of injury each time you entered the room. The other part hoped for her to notice, to show her the truth and dispose the lies; a chance of freedom from this forsaken life where you live in fear and caution at all times.

Wanda had wished to befriend you, only she’d never get the chance to initiate anything upon arriving. Glances and introduction were brief, then training and adjusting to life in a new country began. Just as everything started to look up; when talking to you as the pot of paprikash brewed in the kitchen became a routine, when walks and tours around the city became Wanda’s favourite pastime, the universe chose to yank you away from her.

The team was in shambles when you – the team’s most favourable sniper – was taken abruptly from their hands. Only months later did they locate your whereabouts and managed to bring you home, though not without any costs. A lot of the team had faced the consequences of barging into another HYDRA’s base, but as they arrived at the compound with you in tow, nothing could ever seen to dim their jolly spirits.

Wanda didn’t think she’d seen them with brighter smiles than the ones they’d sported that day. Even the witch herself felt a tremendous amount of relief as she stared at your back, carefully descending the ladders of the quinjet. She had to suppress the urge to run up to your side, provide an arm for you to hold onto, a shoulder to lean on, a pair of feet to ease the pain on yours. But all she did was stand and watched as you refused the doctors of the stretcher, choosing to limp all the way into the medical bay. It was almost funny, seeing the whole team gathered around as you dragged yourself, their playful quips and jokes somehow soothing the tension while their worried eyes never strayed from your struggle.

It took weeks for you to walk normally without stopping every few blocks to catch your breath or unclench your teeth, took two more to get back to your brilliant specialty; shooting a target from miles and miles away, no amount of caution could’ve seen it coming.

It was Wanda’s mission. The witch was to disguise as a manager of the huge event with Natasha supervising, occasionally giving out directions to the young avenger. Though you doubt she needed much of it, Wanda was a natural – at pretending, or copying Nat’s tricks, you couldn’t find the lines separating it.