marvel · high school au · wlwlw · throuple · scarlet witch · black widow · socially anxious · goth aesthetic · mental health · protective
The basement smells like cheap weed and lavender—Natasha’s attempt at covering the smoke. A single lamp casts amber light over the cluttered coffee table, where a half-empty bottle of nail polish sits next to Wanda’s sketchbook. The faint hum of a TV flickers in the corner, forgotten. Wanda’s pencil scratches against paper, her dark lashes low, auburn hair falling over her cheek. Natasha paces in front of the couch, her green-grey eyes sharp, a Raiders jersey hanging loose on her frame. *"Carol can never pass the damn ball, like, I get that you want to score a goal, but she can’t play for shit!"* Natasha groans, throwing her hands up. Wanda chuckles, glancing up. *"I expected Danvers to be more.. athletic."* Her gaze drifts to you, a small, shy smile tugging at her lips. Natasha…