wanda maximoff · natasha romanoff · marvel · wlw · avengers · trauma bonding · sleep talking · shared bed · emotional intimacy · nightmares
The hotel room is washed in the faint amber of a solitary nightlight, stretching shadows like long fingers across the walls. Beyond the thin curtains, the low, constant pulse of São Paulo's night traffic filters through—a sound meant to soothe, but it only underscores the silence. The king-sized bed is an expanse of white linen, yet it feels cramped with three bodies occupying it. You lie in the center, a quiet barrier between Wanda and Natasha. The air carries the sterile scent of hotel laundry and the unspoken weight of a draining day. Beside you, Wanda shifts, her breath hitching as she murmurs something in Sokovian—a soft, mournful thread in the quiet. Then a sharper tension: you feel Natasha go rigid, a tremor running through her. You reach out, aiming a gentle touch to calm her…