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

Santa's Little Helper [Christmas Special]

Summary: Babysitting a four-year-old in a shopping mall is not one of the most fun jobs there is. Fortunately, you get a distraction.

Pronouns: not used || Warnings: slightly suggestive

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"Come on, Y/n/n!"

Morgan's high-pitched voice sounds through the mall and you smile at the little girl in your arms.

"Relax, kiddo, Santa's not going anywhere." You respond humorously, reveling in the younger girl's impatience.

The Stark family has been friends with yours for as long as you can remember and they were almost part of your family, even if there was no direct relationship beyond genuine friendship.

So, when your parents went out with Tony and Pepper to do who knows what, you had to take care of mini Stark here.

You have nothing against that, you loved Morgan after all. That sharp tongue from an early age, she could only be a Stark daughter. But being at the mall during the holiday, together with thousands of other people who had come to buy their Christmas presents at the last minute, was not a good way to spend your Saturday, in your opinion.

"Yes, he is if we keep stalling." The child argues, making you smile amusedly as you lead her to the central plaza of the mall, where the largest concentration of people you've seen so far is.

"Oh no!" Morgan lets out out of nowhere, and you look at her with confusion. "What's wrong, Morgan?"

"When I go there, you're going to take my picture." She says, visibly putting much of her reasoning into developing that idea. "But who's going to take your picture when you go?"

"I don't want to take a picture with Santa, dear, I'm a grownup." You respond with a slight twinge of debauchery, smiling at the girl as you join the line.

While you wait with the other families for your turn, you listen to everything Morgan has to say, which is never a little, and you add what you can.

At one point, however, you look over near the Santa Claus chair and your mind stops.

Next to the good old man, you see the last person you ever expected to meet today.

Wanda Maximoff studies in the same college as you, and although you're not part of the same program, you see each other often, as you have some friends in common. You never had any real conversation, though, just friendly greetings when you bumped into each other and a few exchanges of glances that you tried not to think too much about.

But there she was, standing just a few feet away from you and wearing a Mrs. Claus costume that gives your mind all the means to wander... "Holy shi-"

"Bad word!" Morgan's shout brings you out of your dazzle, and you blink a few times, directing your gaze back to the little girl.

"Sorry, kid." You mumble clumsily, turning your gaze back to the brunette a few feet away. But Morgan's speech must have caught her attention because your eyes meet hers immediately.

Feeling your neck heat up, you look away at once, clearing your throat as you do so, and miss the small smile that forms on the other's lips as she herself looks away.

Your turn finally comes after what seemed like hours of you awkwardly exchanging brief glances with Wanda. When it does, however, the brunette approaches you.

"Hi! Y/n, right?" she greets you politely, a gentle smile in her eyes and a furrow between her eyebrows, and you smile.

"That's right. And you are..." You drag out the end of your line, pretending not to remember her name, and the brunette laughs softly before answering, "Wanda."

"Yeah! Wanda!" You reply, snapping your fingers as if you've just remembered. "Sorry, I'm not very good with names." You complete, which isn't a lie, and the girl shakes her head dismissively.

"Y/n/n, is this the girl you-" begins the child in your arms, but you interrupt her with a loud forced laugh.

"No, it's not." You interrupt, looking at her knowingly, silently asking her to stop talking, and Morgan looks at you with confusion. When you look at Wanda again, she has her eyebrows raised slightly.

"Is this your sister?" The brunette asks, a hint of a smirk on her lips that you decide to ignore for the sake of your own sanity.

"More like a cousin. You reply, bringing your gaze to the child as well. "Say hi, Morgan."

"Hi." The little girl replies shyly, making you and Wanda smile.

"So, would you like to sit on Santa's lap?" The brunette asks and you almost choke, "I mean..."

"I was talking to your cousin." Wanda interrupts, putting her hands on her waist as her eyebrows rise in suggestive amusement at you, and your whole face seems to catch fire.

"Oh! Yeah, sure. Mhm." You agree awkwardly, clearing your throat and looking anywhere but at the girl in front of you. Wanda smirks before looking at Morgan again.

So you hand Morgan over to Santa, and after taking the picture she wanted so badly, you go back to Wanda's side while the two of them talk.

But you're extremely nervous, shifting your weight between your feet constantly. Wanda, of course, notices.

"Any special Christmas wishes for me, Y/n?" She questions in a suggestive tone, and when you break into a stuttering mess, she chuckles. "You're too easy."

"No, I'm not!" You hit back, an offended expression accompanying your red cheeks and the brunette smirk. "I'm special then?"

"That's not what I said." You grumble, looking away, and causing the girl's smirk to widen. "You didn't have to."

"I didn't know you were so full of yourself, Maximoff." You tease, looking at her again, and the brunette shrugging. "I'm not." She replies, and when you laugh through your nose in disbelief, she adds, "you don't even know me."

"Maybe I want to." The answer escapes your mouth too fast for you to contain it, and before you can even regret it, she replies, "maybe I do too."

"Maybe we should go out on Wednesday." You suggest, and she looks at you for a moment before answering.

"7 p.m., Wilson's Bar." She says, more demanding than suggesting, and you smirk as you go to pick Morgan up again.

"I'll pick you up." You say, and before you walk away for good, you send a wink in Wanda's direction.

You have no way of knowing that her cheeks have turned as red as her costume.

And while Morgan tells you all about her meeting with Santa Claus again and again, the only thing you can think about is next Wednesday.

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