Wanda Maximoff x Reader - One-shot Collection (PG)

Consequences [Halloween Special]

Summary: Some mistakes have irredeemable consequences. Wanda will learn about it the hard way.

Pronouns: not used || Warnings: cheating, angst

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It's funny how some habits grow out to have completely different meanings than they had before. It's bittersweet.

One of Wanda's favorite activities of all time was spending time with you, just the two of you in silence. Hearing your heartbeat as she laid on your chest; hearing the rustle of the leaves outside as the both of you read a book - by yourselves, but still together.

The two of you appreciated the silence, that was one of the many things you found out you had in common in the early stages of your relationship. The lack of words that said way more than enough.

But now it was all different. Your silence doesn't have the same meaning it once did. In fact, Wanda finds herself thinking quite often, it doesn't have any meaning at all. And the worst part was that there was no one to blame but herself.

It's a windy day today. And neither you nor Wanda were able to postpone the promise you'd made to Billy and Tommy of taking them to the city park so they could play on the fallen leaves.

So here you are, sitting on a park bench, watching as your sons play with some other kids from the neighborhood, laughing and running around as you and the redhead stay there, in silence. An excruciating silence.

A few minutes before, a kind woman offered to take a picture of the four of you, after she saw you were taking pictures of the twins making angels on the sea of leaves on the floor. Wanda's heart stopped when you agreed, thanking the stranger with the kind smile you last offered your wife a long time ago.

The four of you got together in front of a big tree, your hand resting on Tommy's shoulder as Wanda did the same with Billy. Following her instincts, she slipped her free arm around your middle. It took her just a second to realize what she's done, and she was about to pull away if you hadn't slipped your own over her shoulders.

Wanda wanted to cry right there, the lump in her throat making it hard to breathe. But she took a deep breath, blinking rapidly to push her tears away as she forced a smile at your phone that the unknown woman held in front of her face, hiding half of the smile she was giving at the cute family on the screen. Looks really can be deceiving.

When the stranger announced the picture was taken, you pulled away faster than you'd ever done before, rubbing your nose in the way you always did when you were uncomfortable. You thanked the woman before taking your phone back, checking the picture just enough not to be rude at her kind offer. Wanda ruffled the boys' hair before thanking her as well, and as soon as the woman was gone, the perfect family facade fell apart, the two of you back on the bench, in silence.

There, the redhead thinks about making some conversation - meaningless topics she's become accustomed to choosing to fill the void whenever it was only the two of you. It hurts, it always does. But, still, it hurt less than talking about nothing at all.

However, the moment she looks at you, she loses her nerve. Even if you weren't looking at her, she could see the pain behind your eyes. The eyes she loves so deeply; that she could never wish to be gone from her life.

And, in moments like that one, Wanda hated how well she knew you; how she was able to read you like the back of her hand.

Because, right now, she knows exactly what's going through your mind. That night, a few weeks ago, when you found out about her affair with one of her coworkers in the worst possible way.

She didn't mean it, nothing of it. She was dissatisfied with her job and with not being able to achieve her professional dreams. None of that was an excuse, of course, and she hadn't been able to convince you of it in the long fight you had about her cheating. You and she knew about the redhead's self-destructive behavior of sabotaging herself whenever a small detail of her life went wrong. But that was too much to forgive.

At first, Wanda thought there was nothing worse than making you cry like that - loud sobs of pain and anger, mingled in accusations and hurtful words. But she was proved wrong the moment your tears subsided, your jaw clenched tightly. The moment you said it was over, but that you wouldn't file for divorce yet because the boys were too young and they didn't deserve it. It broke her, but there was nothing she could do about it since she broke you first.

So here you are. An unhappy marriage with two six-year-olds to take care of and for whom you have to pretend that everything was fine.

Later that night - long after the four of you went back home and not many minutes after you put the boys to sleep -, Wanda was taking the dinner dishes out of the dishwasher and putting them back in their respective drawers and cabinets. Her heart tightened a little when she heard your footsteps approaching.

"Wanda?" Your voice took her by surprise, her eyes wide as she turned to look at you. "Yes?" The redhead's voice was a mere whisper, looking at you intently as your gaze rested on the floor for a moment in which you gathered the strength to look at her before you did so.

"There's going to be a parent-teacher conference on Tuesday morning at the boys' school. But I'll be working, can you go?" Your voice is almost robotic, devoid of feelings, wanting to end that conversation as quickly as possible, and Wanda's shoulders drop slightly, nodding slowly. "Sure." A humorless chuckle escaped her lips before she found herself saying, "for a moment I thought you wanted to talk about us."

Your response is a loud gulp that the redhead can see in your throat the moment before you avert your gaze from hers. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable, Wanda spins on her heels, hiding her tears as she busies herself tidying the glasses more than it would be necessary.

A loud gasp of surprise makes its way past her lips a few moments later, when she feels your hand resting on her shoulder. The redhead dares not move, certain that the slightest movement would make you pull away. But out of the corner of her eye, Wanda can see that your arm is outstretched, putting as much distance between the two of you as you can as you touch her. She doesn't know how to feel about the whole thing.

"Goodnight." You say it the next moment, a whisper so low that it is almost drowned out by the low rumble of the refrigerator's motor. The redhead, too astonished to be able to say anything, remains silent, and you take your hand off her shoulder, and make your way with quick steps out of the kitchen, towards the guest room that was slowly becoming your bedroom.

Even though the touch lasted only a few seconds, Wanda could still feel it burning her skin under her pajama top. And, laying her face on her own shoulder, your wife finally allows the tears to fall, wishing there was a less painful punishment for all of her mistakes. 

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