Baby witch (avengers edition)

Crossing the Line

Wanda's heart raced as she crept through the dimly lit hallways of the compound, her footsteps barely making a sound. She knew she was supposed to be resting after the incident on the dock, but the overwhelming emotions and thoughts swirling in her mind wouldn't let her stay still. She felt restless, lost, and suffocated by everything that had happened. The idea of sitting alone in her room with nothing but her thoughts was unbearable.

The sound of voices and laughter drew her toward the living room, where the team was gathered, enjoying a late dinner together. The smell of food made her stomach churn, a stark reminder that she hadn't eaten properly in over a day. She peered into the room from the shadows, watching as Natasha laughed at something Clint said, her mouth full of food. The rest of the team seemed relaxed, almost carefree—like a family. A dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless.

Wanda felt a pang of loneliness. She wasn't part of this. She wasn't truly one of them, not after everything that had happened. The dark thoughts crept back in, and without thinking, she started to turn away, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on the door to Tony's workshop. She had been drawn to that place earlier, but now she had another idea. Maybe she could take something stronger, something that would make her forget for just a little while.

But as she took a step in that direction, her heart skipped a beat. A hand grabbed her wrist firmly, pulling her back into the light. Wanda gasped and looked up, her wide eyes meeting Steve's stern face.

"Wanda, what do you think you're doing?" Steve's voice was low and serious, his grip on her wrist unyielding.

"I—I was just going to get some water," Wanda stammered, trying to pull away, but Steve didn't let go. His blue eyes were sharp, and Wanda could tell he wasn't buying her excuse.

"Wanda, you're supposed to be resting," Steve said, his tone firm. "After what happened today, you need to be in bed, not wandering around the compound."

Before she could protest, Steve began dragging her back towards her room. Wanda struggled, trying to pull free, but Steve was much stronger. "Steve, please, I just needed some air," she pleaded, her voice shaky.

But Steve was having none of it. "You know better than to be sneaking around like this, Wanda. We're all worried about you, and you can't just do whatever you want, especially when you're not well."

As they entered her room, Steve shut the door behind them, his grip on her arm still firm. Wanda's heart pounded in her chest, the reality of the situation sinking in. She was trapped, and Steve was clearly upset.

"Steve, please, I'm sorry," Wanda started, but Steve cut her off.

"Sorry isn't good enough this time, Wanda," Steve said, his voice stern. "You could've hurt yourself again. You're sick, and you almost drowned today. You need to understand how serious this is."

Wanda's eyes welled up with tears, and she started to panic. "Steve, please, don't do this," she begged, her voice trembling.

But Steve was resolute. "You need to learn that there are consequences for your actions, Wanda," he said firmly. He sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled her towards him, guiding her over his lap.

Wanda's breath hitched as she realized what was about to happen. "No, Steve, please!" she cried, struggling against his hold, but Steve was stronger and determined.

"This is for your own good, Wanda," Steve said, his voice steady. And with that, he brought his hand down on her bottom, delivering a firm swat.

Wanda gasped, the sting taking her by surprise. Steve continued, his hand coming down in a series of sharp swats, each one making Wanda cry out. She tried to squirm away, but Steve held her firmly in place, not relenting.