Imagine If You Assembled The Avengers: Volume 2

Roses are Red, Broken Hearts are Blue (Pietro Maximoff x reader)

"You seem tired," Wanda approached, crossing the quinjet slowly towards you, "more so than after most missions. Were you hurt?" She stopped just before taking her place at your side, waiting for some sign from you that you would accept her; it wasn't something that she was used to from you after knowing you almost her entire life.

"No," you answered plainly, eyes closed and withdrawn, offering nothing more. You had desperately hoped that she would take the hint and back away, but as your best friend, you should have known better than to make such a ridiculous assumption. You could feel the shift in the air around you when she sat down next to you, fighting the urge to pull your hand away as she rested hers atop it slowly.

"Is it because of what today is?"

"Don't go there, Wanda."

"It's okay to be sad, (Y/N)," she continued despite your warning, "I'm incredibly sad. We both lost Pietro on this day, and it's only been a single year. The pain is expected to be this strong, but we have each other to lessen it as best as we can. Why won't you let me do that for you? Do you not care enough for me to do the same?"

"Wanda, please, don't guilt me, not now."

"I'm not trying to guilt you," she answered, but now her voice was uncertain and pained, "I love you."

"Dammit," you groaned, opening your eyes to look at her for the first time when you couldn't find a way out of this, "you really are good, Maximoff, you know that? By not guilting me, you've done some of your best guilt work to date. Don't be daft, you know that I love you too," you sighed, nudging her gently, "and I know what you're trying to do. I just need some time to myself, that's all. But I'll tell you what, once I can get home and clean up a bit, we can go grab a drink and drown our sorrows before I lock myself away in a nice, morose depression. Sounds healthy, right?"

When she silently nodded in agreement, you could sense someone watching the two of you; leaning forward just enough, you caught a glimpse of Steve before he jolted to attention and turned away, pretending to busy himself with the controls in front of him. He really was terrible at lying, even when he hadn't come right out and done it directly.

"What's up with the golden boy?"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, turning to follow your gaze. "He's just concerned. Tony asked him to keep an eye on us today, to be sure that we weren't too distracted on the mission."

"You mean babysit? He still doesn't trust us, does he?"

"He does..." she paused almost uncertainly, glancing back at the Captain, "he just worries a great deal. It's in his nature. Steve's been through his own amount of loss, (Y/N). You might find yourself benefitting from what he could share."

"Well, it's in my nature to deal on my own, and I hate to break this to you, Wanda, but there's no love lost between Steve and I. So thanks, but no thanks."

~~~

When you opened your apartment door after a long day of Avenging, saving people who you would never know merely because the walking flag said that joining them was the right thing to do, all you wanted was the solace of your quiet home and maybe a soak in the tub before bed. Your body was aching and your muscles screamed with even the smallest movement; for just a moment you considered skipping the bed and just passing out on the living room floor. Rather than your usual dark silence, what greeted you instead were hundreds of roses set up before you, and as far as your eyes could see into each room in the distance. You knew exactly who they were from; even after all that had happened in Sokovia and after the pain that had ripped apart your soul, you had always struggled with the sense that he was still alive, and now he had finally found you on the first anniversary of his presumed death.