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2021-07-13
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Professional

Summary:

After a promotion, you find yourself set to interview Wanda Maximoff for your article, but can you remain professional when you find yourself alone with the hottest Avenger?

Notes:

Smut fic, 18 only, Minors DNI

Comments are very welcome, let me know what you think.

Work Text:

Your heels clicked against the tiles of the hallway you walked down, the sharp beats echoing the pounding of your heart. You paused for a second, leaning against a wall and taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. You smoothed down your black knee-length skirt before adjusting your white blouse, ensuring that the ends were tucked firmly into your skirt. You tugged on the sleeves of your crisp, black blazer, taking comfort in the fabric. You catch your reflection in the window across from you. You try to look at yourself objectively, deciding that you look sufficiently professional. Making a good impression today was of the utmost importance.

 

It was your first major assignment as the new head Entertainment Reporter for the New York Times. You had been given the opportunity due to unfortunate circumstances, your boss and friend, Amy Jackson, had been admitted to hospital earlier this morning. She had suffered a heart attack but was thankfully going to be okay, and you were tasked with covering for her while she recovered. You had been working under her for the past three years since you graduated with your journalism degree, stuck compiling research and statistics for her articles. Now, here you were in the big leagues, about to interview Wanda Maximoff.

 

Wanda Maximoff was an Avenger, one of the superheroes who saved the world on a regular basis. She was a notoriously private person, a far cry from the larger than life personality of some of the other members of the team. She was one of the most powerful people on the planet, possessing powers that amazed the world. In the few interviews that she had done, she was sweet and humble, managing to charm anyone who had their doubts about her. It didn’t help that she was objectively the most attractive human on the planet. 

 

She was impossibly beautiful, with striking cheekbones and deep green eyes that invited you in. Her long brown hair flowed ethereally, even in the midst of a battle, and her toned body made you long to be pressed against it. She had a long, elegant neck and lips that were totally biteable. And her smile. Her smile could light up a room and it took your breath away whenever you saw it. You mentally scolded yourself for acting like a ridiculous fangirl, but you couldn’t help it, and you certainly weren’t alone. 

 

Due to her mysterious nature, she had gained somewhat of a following. Women and men alike would constantly throw themselves at her, but she had yet to comment on her love life. There had been plenty of rumours, but none had yet to be proven. 

 

The interview was part of a series that the newspaper had organised to run over the last few months. The other members of the team had already been interviewed by Amy, and Wanda was the last one to be done. The stories that had already been printed had been successful, and in Amy’s absence, you had some big shoes to fill. 

 

You checked the time on your watch, noting that you were running a little late for the interview. Way to make a good impression, you thought to yourself as you hurried down the corridor, following the directions that the security guard had given you to the briefing room. You arrived slightly out of breath due to your pace, the door was slightly ajar and you almost gulped when you saw Wanda and her twin brother, Pietro, sitting inside. They hadn’t noticed you yet, their backs to the door as they sat towards the end of a long table. 

 

You raised your hand to knock but stopped short when you heard Wanda’s voice, the irritation in her tone clear. 

 

“So where is this guy? He was supposed to be here five minutes ago.” Her voice, smooth and beautiful even when she was annoyed, sent a shiver down your spine. You shook your head at your reaction, and decided instead to focus on the fact that Wanda had referred to you as a ‘he’. 

 

You realise there must have been some miscommunication from the paper. Wanda would have known that Amy was due to arrive, and in all the chaos of the morning, they must have provided the wrong name for who had replaced her. 

 

“I’m sure he will be here soon,” you hear Pietro say in an attempt to calm her. “He’s new apparently, first big interview so try to be nice.” His tone was light and teasing, and you watched as Wanda’s features softened slightly. 

 

“I will,” she huffed out, “I’m just nervous. You know I hate these things.” You watched as she twisted her fingers in her lap, something you knew she did when she was anxious. 

 

Not wanting to get caught eavesdropping, you bring your hand up and knocking lightly on the doorframe. Pietro turns his head at the noise and sees you standing there. 

 

“Can I help you?” Pietro asked, his voice lowering a few octaves as his lips curled into a lazy grin. You felt your cheeks begin to burn as he raked his eyes over you obviously, and you almost wished you had done up another button on your blouse. 

 

Wanda was looking at her brother with an irritated expression, obviously annoyed by his blatant flirting. She scoffs at him before she turns her gaze to you. You watch as her green eyes widen slightly before a slow smile spreads over her face, the simple look had moisture pooling between your legs. 

 

Get a grip, you thought to yourself, annoyed by how easily you were distracted by her. You were here to do a job, so it was time to suck it up and be professional and try to ignore how hot Wanda was. 

 

You take a deep breath in an attempt to calm the butterflies swirling around your stomach. You couldn’t do anything about your arousal now, but you were determined to not embarrass yourself by showing it. 

 

“Uh, yeah, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here to interview Wanda for the New York times,” you were glad your voice came out even, Wanda’s gaze was still on you and you felt like your skin was on fire. “Sorry, I’m late, this place is a maze.”

 

“Wait, you’re interviewing me?” Wanda’s voice cut in, her tone disbelieving. “They told us it was some guy replacing Amy.” You frown at her words, trying not to feel hurt by her doubtful tone. 

 

You narrow your eyes at her. “Well whoever gave you that information was wrong,”  you said sarcastically, “and I’ll be the one covering for Amy. I can assure you I’m more than capable.” You almost wince at the tone of your voice, clearly more affected by her than you’d like to let on. 

 

Pietro’s eyes were looking between the two of you, and he smirked widely. “Perhaps I should leave the two of you alone,” he said smugly, walking towards the door. Just before he got there he turned to face Wanda, “don’t forget we have our family dinner tomorrow night. Mum will kill you if you miss it again.” 

 

Wanda’s eyes never left yours as she replied to her brother. “Sure,” she said quickly, causing him to chuckle at her antics. 

 

“Lovely to meet you,” Pietro said, throwing you a wink as he brushed past you on his way out the door. Your face heating even more at his obvious delight for your discomfort. 

 

You turn your gaze back to Wanda’s and find her eyes still on you. There was a moment of silence as your eyes locked and you shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do or say now that the two of you were alone. Wanda had a soft smile on her face and you could feel your resolve to remain professional crumbling. 

 

You cleared your throat to distract yourself from the thoughts swirling through your mind. “So Miss Maximoff,” you begin, taking a tentative step into the room, Wanda’s eyes flashing with humour at your words. “Do you mind if I sit?” you ask her, gesturing to the chair across from her. 

 

“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing it?” she comments, and you just arch your brow at her in response, causing her to smirk. “Yes, Ms Y/L/N , be my guest.” Her eyes raked up and down your body as you walked toward her, and you flushed under her intense scrutiny. She smirked as you stumbled in your heels, it was clear she knew the effect she was having on you. 

 

You lower yourself into the seat, your heart pounding furiously in your chest. You bend down, reaching into your bag and pulling out a mini recorder. You place it on the table next to the two of you, Wanda’s eyes following your every movement.

 

Now that you’re closer to her, you finally take in what she’s wearing. Your mouth goes dry as your eyes travel over her long legs encased in a form-fitting pair of slacks. The white birds adorning the fabric a stark contrast to the dark colour of the pants. She wore a matching jacket, open at the front to reveal a low cut white shirt, the neckline plunging enough to reveal the smallest glimpse of the swell of her breasts. Her hair was down, falling over her shoulders in soft waves and you fought the urge to run your hand through the silky strands. 

 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lip, Wanda’s eyes following the movement. “Do you mind if I record this?” you rasp out, hating how your voice was betraying you. You nod towards the recorder on the table, and Wanda glances at it. 

 

“Sure,” she answers, a sparkle in her eye as she watches you turn it on. You were a little annoyed with how relaxed she looked, while you were filled with nerves. 

 

So what if she was the hottest woman to ever exist, you were a professional and you needed to get on with your job. 

 

She straightened up, her forearms resting on the arms of the chair. You watched as her long fingers flexed and curled over the armrests, and you bit your lip to stifle your groan at the sight. You smiled in satisfaction when you heard a muttered curse fall from her mouth as she watched your teeth gnaw at your lip. 

 

“What was that, Miss Maximoff?” you asked, your voice laced with innocence.

 

“Nothing Ms Y/L/N,” she muttered before she continued, “please call me Wanda.” She smirked again, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss the smug smile off her face. 

 

You pressed record on the device and set it back on the table, taking a breath to steady yourself. You knew your first question had to be impressive; something to direct the tension that was slowly filling the room. 

 

“So, Wanda,” you say, watching as her eyes flash with an unknown emotion as you say her name, “the Avengers are often applauded as heroes, but do you think that it’s an appropriate title?” 

 

She tilts her head at the question, ginning at your obvious attempt to rattle her. “Well, I think that depends on your definition of hero.”

 

You shook your head at her bid to deflect the question. “And how would you define it?”

 

She pins you with her eyes again, the green gaze almost hypnotic. You clenched your thighs together and gripped your chair. “I define a hero as someone who stands up for others, who shows courage in the face of adversity. I think a hero can be ordinary people doing ordinary things, someone who refuses to be passive in an unjust world.” 

 

You lean forward in your chair and feel a thrill go through you as you notice Wanda’s eyes looking at your breasts through the opening in your blouse. “You still haven’t answered my question,” you say, your voice low. 

 

“No,” she breathes, leaning forward so her breath caresses your face, “I don’t consider myself a hero.”

 

You sit back, trying to put some distance between the two of you and clear your head. She was so close that her scent had invaded your senses, the sweet smell of peaches clouding your mind. 

 

You decide to change tact, wanting to wipe the smirk off Wanda’s face. She was watching you as you collected your thoughts, her eyes hungry.

 

“I’m sure there are some people who agree with you,” you begin, “especially those who are tasked with cleaning up after the Avengers.” The smirk falls from her face and she scowls angrily at you. 

 

“We always assist in the cleanup efforts as much as we can,” she spits out and you know you’ve struck a nerve. You fight the urge to smile at her reaction. It was nice to get under her skin since she was already under yours. You wanted her to be under you, above you, inside you and- 

 

You shake your head again, trying to clear the lust that was drowning you. “Hmmm, but there has been some significant damage over the years,” you comment and you watch as her eyes flash angrily. She was even hotter when she was pissed off. 

 

“There’s also been a significant amount of lives saved,” she counters smugly and you take that as your cue to switch to a different question. 

 

“What would you say has been your greatest achievement?” you steer the questions to safer territory now, and you see her shoulders sag slightly in relief. 

 

“I like to think every person we’ve helped,” she replies, a soft smile on her face. “Regardless of how I got my powers,” she continues, her fingers dancing with red wisps of energy as she brings her hand up in front of her face, “I’m glad I get to use them to help others.”

 

You’re distracted by the way her fingers are moving, the light from her powers flitting over her face, exaggerating the features. She smirks again as she catches your intense stare, the energy dissipating into the air.  

 

She rests her hand on the table, just inches from where your own rests and you swear you could feel sparks shooting between your fingertips. Her fingers were long and elegant, they looked like they belonged to a musician. She can play me anytime you think to yourself, your stomach clenching. 

 

You want to smack yourself in the face. It was going to be a long interview if you couldn’t control your thoughts. You decide to play it safe, no more trying to rattle her. 

 

You continue your interview, keeping your questions light. The aim of the piece was to shed some light on the Avengers as people, give a chance for the public to see them as more than just the larger than life characters the media reduced them to. 

 

Wanda was witty and smart, dodging questions she wasn’t comfortable answering like a pro. You smiled as she talked about her brother, you could see the love she had for her twin by the way her eyes lit up as she shared stories from their childhood. She relaxed as the interview went on, and you found yourself falling deeper under her spell.

 

Everything the woman did just made you want her more, you could feel your arousal steadily pooling in between your legs as time went on, your want for her only growing. 

 

You knew that your allocated time was coming to a close, and you pulled out your laptop from your bag, meeting her puzzled look with a shrug. 

 

“We had some members of the public send in some questions and my editor said he would send them through. Do you mind?” you ask, chewing your lip nervously. 

 

“Not at all,” she replies smoothly, adjusting in her chair while you open your emails. 

 

You click on the one from your editor, smiling as you read the first question.

 

“Okay this one is from Liza, she’s eight and lives in New York,” you catch the soft smile on Wanda’s face and the butterflies in your stomach erupt again, “she wants to know how many hours you have to train each week.” 

 

She chuckles lightly before replying. “Well when we’re not on missions, we usually train for three or four hours a day. Steve is kind of a drill sergeant about it, but it keeps me in good shape.” 

 

“I’ll say,” you blurt out without thinking, your eyes going wide. Wanda just laughs louder, while your face heats with embarrassment. 

 

You clear your throat and read the next question quickly to try and deflect. “Alright next question is from Shelby, a thirteen year old from New Jersey. She wants to know-” you almost groan as you scan the question, stopping mid-sentence. 

 

“What does it say?” Wanda asks, her tone curious. 

 

“Don’t worry, it’s too personal,” you say quickly, trying to move on. “I can’t believe my boss okayed this.”

 

“No it’s fine,” she tries to reassure you, “if your boss wants you to ask it, you should. I don’t want you to get in trouble at work because of me.” You feel your heart swell at her words. You add kind to the list of reasons why Wanda was amazing. 

 

“Uh,” you shift uncomfortably in your chair, “she wants to know if there is anyone special in your life at the moment.”

 

“Oh,” Wanda responds, her brows furrowing.

 

“Yeah,” you reply, “like I said, too personal.” You avoid her eyes, looking back at your laptop as you scan the, thankfully, more tame third and final question. 

 

“Yes,” Wanda says quietly and your eyes snap to hers. “There is someone special in my life.” Her eyes are burning into yours, the emotion in them making you gulp. The tension in the room is back at her confession. 

 

“Okay,” you nod, “last question. This one is from James, he’s twenty-six and from Long Island. He wants to know if you have any pets.”

 

Wanda’s nose scrunches up at the question and you can’t help but notice how adorable the action is. “No, but I want a dog,” her tone is serious as if it was the most important question of the day.

 

You nod at her answer, offering her a slight smile. You turn the recorder off with a click, slipping it back into your bag with your laptop.

 

“Thank you for the interview,” you say quietly, standing from your seat and bending down to pick up your bag. “I think I got everything I needed.” You pull the strap of your bag over your shoulder and straighten up. 

 

“Did you?” You couldn’t read Wanda’s tone so you turn to look at her and the instant you did you knew you were done for. Her green eyes were dilated, flashing with desire, and she was looking at you like you were something to eat. You felt your heart kick into overdrive as you recognised the hunger on her face. 

 

“Yes,” you squeaked out in response, taking a step back, the backs of your thighs hitting the edge of the table. Wanda pushed herself to a standing position, a determined look on her face. 

 

“Are you sure about that?” Her voice was liquid sex, dripping with promises. Your body was egging her on without your encouragement, your nipples hardening beneath your blouse. You watch as her eyes darken as she eyes them through your shirt. 

 

You stared at her, your mouth dry and you realise you can’t lie. You wanted her, and you both knew it. “No,” your voice is a breathless whisper, but the word echoes in the quiet of the room. 

 

“What else do you need, Ms Y/L/N?” Wanda’s voice is low and dangerous as she takes a step forward, her mouth only inches from yours. You whimper as she brings her hand up to cup your cheek, her thumb caressing your bottom lip gently. 

 

You feel your skin pebbling under her touch as she leans in, her nose drawing a line up from the base of your neck, her lips gently caressing the underside of your jaw. She kisses a path to your ear, nibbling on the lobe and you felt your legs shake. 

 

“You didn’t answer me,” she breathes into your ear, causing you to shiver. “What else do you need, Y/N?” The sound of your name rolling off her tongue, her soft accent caressing the word, makes you gasp. 

 

“You. I want you,” you confess breathlessly, and you feel her smile against your neck. 

 

She pulls back, her smirk back on her face and you give in to your earlier urge, leaning in and pulling her bottom lip between your teeth. She groans in reaction, pressing her body firmly against yours as she kisses you hungrily. 

 

The feel of her body against yours has you feeling warm all over, your legs trembling with want. She reaches her hands down, grabbing the back of your thighs and lifting you gently to sit on the edge of the table, moving her body to stand between your legs.

 

She removes her lips from yours, the two of you panting as she rests her forehead against yours. “You know,” she begins, nipping across your jaw towards your ear again, causing you to whimper, “I’m a fairly competitive person.”

 

“Is that so?” you ask as her tongue traces the shell of your ear, sending a jolt right to your core. 

 

“It is,” she whispers, dragging her lips back down your neck, sucking at the hollow of your collarbone. Your hand tangles in her hair, as the other rests against her hip, trying to draw her closer to you. “I’m your first interview, correct?”

 

You knew that she knew the answer to this, but you decided to play along. “Yes, you are.”

 

She brings her head up again, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she watches you, “Well I think that it’s important that I be the best interview you ever have. I want you to never forget your first time.”

 

Your body turns to jelly at her words, but you smirk back at her, deciding to ruffle her a little. “That might be difficult,” you say, hiding your smile as you watch her face fall, “I’m bound to interview hundreds of celebrities over my career. I’m sure they’ll all begin to blur together and you’ll just fade into the masses.” You fight the urge to laugh at the scowl on her face. There was no way you’d ever be able to forget this. 

 

“That sounds like a challenge, Ms Y/L/N.” Her eyes are flashing dangerously. 

 

“You’re quite observant, Miss Maximoff,” you counter.

 

“They say you never forget your first.” You want to kiss the smirk right off her face, but you raise an eyebrow at her, still playing the game.

 

“Sometimes your first is worth forgetting,” you answer and she barks out a laugh. 

 

“Well then I’ll just have to make this unforgettable,” she rests her hands on your knees, her fingers brushing underneath the hem of your skirt. 

 

“By all means,” you gasp as her fingers trail higher, dragging your skirt with them. 

 

“Tell me,” she begins, watching the ascent of her fingers, “have you ever been fucked in a conference room before?” You shake your head, your mouth dry. 

 

She hums lightly as her fingers reach the edge of your panties, but she continues higher, pushing your skirt above your hips. “Of course not,” she taunts, “a sweet innocent woman like you. They’d be gentle with you, take their time, memorise every inch of your delectable skin. Sound about right?”

 

Her hands are untucking your blouse, her talented fingers working on the bottom buttons. “It does,” you reply, not recognising your own voice. 

 

“Well that wouldn’t be very memorable would it?” She continues up your blouse, slowly undoing your buttons, her touch setting fire to the skin she exposes. 

 

“It might be,” you whine, your voice desperate. 

 

“Might be isn’t good enough,” she leans in, her lips following the path of her hands as they move up your torso, “I need to be the best you’ve had.”

 

“Well I’ll call you in about sixty years and let you know,” you gasp as she kisses over the swell of your breast. 

 

“I think you’ll know sooner than that,” she replies as she tugs the cup of your bra down, tugging your nipple into her mouth. The action makes your stomach lurch. 

 

“I won’t know anything until you fuck me,” you say through gritted teeth, desperate for more than the teasing touches she had been giving you. 

 

“I suppose not,” she muses, and before you know it her mouth is on yours. 

 

Gone are the teasing nips from before, her lips were devouring yours, her tongue thrusting into your mouth dominantly. Her hand found your breast, flicking your nipple with her thumb and sending bolts of electricity straight to your core. Her other hand pushed your shirt off your arms. 

 

Your hands were tangled in her hair, holding her face to yours, as you wrapped your legs tightly around her waist trying to pull her closer. Her hand reached behind you and unclasped your bra, tugging the straps down your shoulders. 

 

Her lips began to lower, moving down your neck, before descending further. She mouthed across your breast, her tongue giving your aching nipple some much needed attention. You pushed at her jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you. You were tugging at her shirt, pulling it over her head, her lips leaving your body and you mourned their loss. 

 

She leaned in again, kissing you firmly as her hands trailed down your sides, causing you to shiver. You unhooked her bra, throwing it on top of the growing pile of clothes on the floor and sighing happily as her bare chest pressed against yours. You could feel the warmth of her body and your desire only grew.

 

Her hand moved between you, and she dragged her finger slowly over where you wanted her most. You gasped as you felt her touch through your soaked underwear and you felt her smile into the kiss. She applied more pressure and you rocked against her hand, desperate for more friction. 

 

She let her finger snake under the fabric, gathering the moisture between your legs and swirling her finger around your clit. You moaned into her mouth, already feeling the tension rise quickly. You had been on edge ever since you first locked eyes with her, and you knew it wouldn’t take you long to fall over. 

 

All of a sudden you feel the heat of her body leave and you snap your eyes open, almost whining at the loss of contact. You watch with hooded eyes as Wanda drops to her knees before you, grabbing your hips and dragging you to the edge of the table. Her fingers hook into the side of your panties and she slowly drags them down your legs. 

 

You’re panting in anticipation as she moves back between your legs, her breath fanning across your heated flesh. 

 

“Ms Y/L/N?” she whispers against your thigh as she places open mouthed kisses there, moving slowly closer to where you crave her. 

 

“Hmmmmm?” you manage to reply, your stomach clenching tightly as she switches to the other leg. 

 

“How’s the interview going so far?” she asks, her grin wide.

 

Before you can reply, she leans forward, her tongue swiping along the length of you before her mouth finds your clit and she sucks hard. You moan loudly, your head slamming back onto the table behind you. She wastes no time, slipping one of the talented fingers that you had been fixating on inside of you, pumping in and out of you quickly.

 

You feel your body begin to tense as the pleasure builds, Wanda quickly adding a second finger, curling them and hitting that spot that makes you see stars. Your thighs clench around her head and you slam your palm down on the table. Wanda keeps her pace and soon you feel the waves of pleasure crash through you. 

 

You moan her name desperately as she continues her movements, the coil beginning to build quickly again. You’re gasping, writhing against her as another orgasm takes over you. She helps you ride the aftershocks, her fingers slowing down as you tremble. After you’re done, she withdraws her fingers and you whine at the loss. You feel her chuckle against your thigh and you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at her.

 

She moves back, resting on her ankles as she looks up at you. You take in her mussed hair and swollen lips, knowing you probably don’t look much better. She locks eyes with you, grinning wickedly as she brings her fingers to her mouth. You can see them glistening in the light, your arousal coating the digits. She pulls them into her mouth, her tongue curling around them as she licks them clean.

 

Quick as a flash, you slide off the table, leaning forward and capturing her lips with your own. You can taste yourself on her tongue, and you press her back until she’s lying on the floor. You snake your hand between you, quickly undoing the button of her pants, and she lifts her hips to help you tug them down her thighs, kicking them off the rest of the way.

 

You move your mouth down, smiling against her skin as she begins to moan and writhe beneath you. You show her breasts the same attention she gave yours, swirling your tongue around her nipple before sucking it into your mouth. 

 

You continue lower as her hands tangle in your hair, your name falling from her lips like a prayer. You reach her glistening folds and waste no time, moving forward and swirling your tongue around her entrance. She gasps as you press into her, your thumb pressing firmly against her clit. 

 

She’s rocking her hips against your face, her cries filling the room as she moves closer to the edge. You replace your tongue with your finger, pressing into her slowly and feeling her tight, wet heat envelope the digit. You now focus your mouth on her clit, lapping at the sensitive bud as you press another finger inside her.

 

You feel her thighs tense, her breathing shallow and rapid as she thrusts against your hand. You curl your fingers inside her and you feel her walls clamp down as she screams your name. You guide her through her orgasm, your hand slowing its movements. 

 

You kiss your way back up her body, your mouth meeting hers in a lazy kiss, your tongues tangling together. She’s panting still and you smile against her lips. 

 

You pull away and rest your head against her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heat under your ear. Her hand plays with your hair as you both lie there quietly, regaining your energy. 

 

After a few minutes, you both sit up. Wanda smiles at you tenderly before she leans in and kisses you sweetly. You sigh contentedly against her lips, your eyes closed. She pulls back after a few moments and your eyes flutter open, meeting her gaze. 

 

You both rise, dressing quickly, a comfortable silence filling the air. You run your fingers through your hair, trying to get rid of some of the tangles left by Wanda’s hands, before giving up and quickly pulling it into a bun. You laugh lightly when you see Wanda has done the same. 

 

You reach down and pick your bag up again, turning to face Wanda. “Well, I need to get to work to write my story so…” you trail off, not meeting her eyes.

 

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me about your promotion?” she questions softly, sounding a little hurt. You meet her gaze then, your heart clenching at the look on her face.

 

You had been dating Wanda for a few months now, and while things were still fairly new, you knew without a doubt that you wanted to be with her forever. She was sweet and kind, and she made your heart soar. 

 

You walk over to her, wrapping your arms around her. “I found out after you already left this morning,” you tell her, as she returns your hug, “I knew you had that briefing with the team before the interview, and I kind of wanted to surprise you. I hope it was a good one.”

 

“I’ll say,” she laughs, pulling back to look at you. “I didn’t know what to say when I saw you there, and then when Pietro started flirting with you-” She stops when you grimace at her words.

 

“That is so not how I wanted to meet your brother,” you say scrunching your nose up. “What’s he going to say when he meets me for real?”

 

While you and Wanda weren’t keeping your relationship a secret from those closest to you, you were trying to avoid the media circus that came with dating an Avenger. You spent most of your time together at your apartment across town to avoid the photographers that camped outside Avengers Tower, and you had yet to organise a time to meet Wanda’s friends and family. 

 

“He already knows your name sweetheart,” she replies, placing a soft kiss on your nose. “He figured out who you were as soon as you said it. He left to give us some privacy.”

 

“Oh,” you say and she chuckles at your embarrassment, showing you a text from her phone. 

 

It was nice to finally meet your girlfriend. Bring her to dinner tomorrow night. Mum is going to be pissed that I met her first.

 

You laugh at the message. “I guess I’m meeting the parents,” you joke and Wanda smiles at you. 

 

She grabs your hand, twining her fingers with yours and pulls you towards the door. 

 

“So,” she begins and you look over at her, catching the glint in her eyes, “best interview ever or what?”

 

You pretend to think about it, and she drops your hand, pretending to look outraged. You cup her face in your hands, leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

 

“Best interview ever,” you say, and she returns your smile. You lean in again, and this time she kisses you back.