Hi! My name is Mao, Im 34. I bounce from one hyperfixation to the next. Men and minors DNI. All of the fandoms and all of the ships. I will get to them in time, and will come to love them all. So bring it. Send me new fandoms/ships!
Trying my hand at writing for the first time in like.. a decade and a half.
I see other people create master lists for the sake of simplicity so I'm going to try to do that here? Not super familiar with Tumblr beyond reading other people's fanfiction and reblogging them.
This may seem obvious but minors, DNI. There be inappropriate content here for you.
You were always used to being unnoticed. The one who stood in the back of group settings, sat in the corner seats while everyone else filled the middle.
That was until you met Wanda.
She noticed you immediately.
The very things you did to disappear were the first things she paid attention to. The way you lingered near exits at parties. The way you folded into yourself during conversations, content to listen while everyone else fought to be heard. The way your eyes always searched the room before sitting down, calculating where you’d be least perceived.
Wanda noticed.
And once Wanda Maximoff noticed something, she studied it carefully.
You’d known her for almost a year now. Your relationship if you could even call it that was complicated.
You weren’t dating.
But, you certainly weren’t friends.
There had been lingering touches. Long stares that lasted too long to be innocent. Kisses shared in empty hallways and parked cars and Wanda’s kitchen at two in the morning while tea went cold beside the stove.
But it had never gone further than that.
Not because you didn’t want it to.
God, you wanted it to.
Wanda had promised herself that when she finally had you, truly had you, she would do it right. No rushed moment. No careless hook-up. She wanted devotion. Something soft and consuming all at once.
You, meanwhile, were trying desperately not to look as affected by her as you really were. Which was difficult when Wanda looked at you like she was trying to memorize every version of your face that had ever existed.
Tonight was another crowded event at the avengers compound. Music hummed through the room, laughter bouncing off the walls while people squeezed together on couches around tables.
And like always, you drifted toward the exit of it all.
Safe.
Predictable.
You barely settled in before Wanda appeared beside you, carrying two drinks. Without asking she handed you the one she knew you liked best.
“You disappeared again,” she said softly.
You shrugged “I’m still here.”
“Hm.”
Wanda sat beside you instead of joining the others crowded around the center of the room. Her thigh pressed lightly against yours, deliberate enough to make your pulse stumble.
From across the room, someone called her name. Wanda ignored them. Your fingers tightened slightly around the cup in your hands.
“You know you don’t have to babysit me.”
Wanda finally turned to look at you fully. The noise in the room suddenly felt far away.
“I’m not babysitting you,” she murmured. Her gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before lifting again. “I just prefer being where you are.”
The words settled heavily in your chest.
You looked away first.
That was another thing Wanda had noticed about you, how quickly you broke eye contact when things became too real.
“You always do that,” she said quietly.
“Do what?”
“Hide.”
Your breath caught.
Wanda leaned back against the couch, studying you with infuriating calm. “You sit in corners. You stay quiet until someone speaks to you first. You leave rooms without saying goodbye.”
Her voice softened.
“You make yourself small so nobody expects anything from you.”
Something vulnerable twisted painfully in your stomach because she was right. Worse, she’d been paying enough attention to know.
“I didn’t realize I was being analyzed,” you muttered.
A faint smile tugged at Wanda’s lips. “You were.”
You huffed out a quiet laugh despite yourself.
Then Wanda reached over, slowly enough for you to pull away if you wanted, and wrapped her hand around your wrist. Your entire body went still.
“I notice everything about you,” she said.
The sincerity in her voice nearly undid you. Across the room people were laughing, arguing over music, living completely separate lives from this moment unfolding quietly between the two of you.
You swallowed hard. “That sounds unhealthy.”
“It probably is.”
The honesty of the answer startled a laugh out of you. Wanda’s expression softened instantly at the sound, like she treasured it more than she should.
God.
That look would ruin you eventually.
“You know what your problem is?” Wanda asked.
You raised a brow carefully. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“You think being wanted is the same thing as being a burden.”
Your chest tightened.
Wanda’s thumb brushed once against the inside of your wrist, absent minded and devastating.
“And you,” you said quietly, “have a habit of saying things that make me want to run away.”
“But you never do.”
Because she was right again.
You never did.
Not when Wanda looked at you like that.
Not when she paid attention to every hidden piece of you that everyone else overlooked.
The party continued around you, loud and alive, but Wanda’s focus never wavered. It stayed entirely on you, patient and consuming all at once.
Then, after a long silence, she asked softly,
“Do you want to stay tonight?”
Your heart stumbled.
Not a joke. Not teasing.
Real.
You searched her face carefully, looking for some sign that she didn’t mean it, but Wanda only watched you steadily, waiting.
“For sleeping?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
A slow smile spread across her face.
“Yes, detka,” she murmured. “For sleeping.”
You exhaled shakily, somewhere between relief and disappointment. Wanda noticed that too, of course she did. Her smile widened slightly.
“Don’t look so devastated,” she whispered. “I’m trying to be good for you.”
And somehow that felt far more dangerous than if she hadn’t tried at all.
Your eyes followed her as she grabbed her coat from the back of a chair. The room suddenly felt louder now that the decision had been made, conversations crashing back into focus around you.
You stood slowly. “We’re just leaving?”
Wanda glanced at you while slipping her coat on. “Did you want a goodbye announcement?”
You snorted quietly. “No.”
“Good. I hate those.”
She waited for you to put your own jacket on before leading you toward the door. Not ahead of you. Beside you.
Always beside you.
The cool night air hit your skin the second you stepped outside, crisp enough to make you inhale sharply. Behind you, music still pulsed faintly through the walls of the compound, muffled now by distance.
For a moment neither of you spoke. Then Wanda’s hand brushed against yours. Accidental. Maybe. But her fingers lingered for half a second too long before pulling away. Your stomach tightened.
“You’re quiet,” Wanda observed.
“You make me nervous.”
The words slipped out before you could stop them.
Wanda actually looked surprised.
That alone made you want to disappear.
You looked down immediately, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Forget I said that.”
“No.”
Her voice was gentler now.
You glanced up just in time to catch the way she was looking at you careful, attentive, almost unbearably fond.
“I like when you’re honest with me.”
You swallowed hard. “That makes one of us.”
Wanda’s mouth curved faintly. “Detka, I’m painfully honest with you.”
That was true.
Wanda never hid her attention from you. Never pretended she wasn’t affected. Her apartment wasn’t far from the compound. Close enough that the tension had time to build quietly during the drive.
The heater hummed softly. One of Wanda’s playlists played low through the speakers. Something slow and warm that only made you more aware of her sitting beside you.
One hand rested lazily on the steering wheel.
The other sat near the center console.
Close enough that your pinkies brushed once when the car turned.
Neither of you moved away.
You stared out the window to avoid looking at her.
“You’re overthinking,” Wanda said suddenly.
“I’m literally not speaking."
“I can still tell.”
You sighed quietly, leaning your head back against the seat. “This is exactly what I mean.”
“What?”
“You always know.”
Wanda was quiet for a second.
Then, softer this time, “Only when it comes to you.”
That shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did.
The rest of the drive passed in a comfortable silence, heavy but not awkward. By the time Wanda parked outside her building, your nerves had settled into something calmer. Not gone.
Just quieter.
The elevator ride up was worse somehow.
Small space. Late hour. Wanda standing close enough for you to smell her perfume.
You became hyperaware of everything.
The gold rings on her fingers.
The faint smudge of lipstick she hadn’t fully reapplied after drinking earlier.
The way her waist and thighs looked in those jeans.
The way her eyes kept drifting toward your mouth whenever silence stretched too long.
The elevator dinged before either of you could say something dangerous.
Wanda unlocked her apartment door and stepped aside to let you enter first. Warmth immediately wrapped around you. Soft lighting. The faint scent of vanilla and coffee lingering in the air.
It felt unmistakably hers.
And for some reason that realization made your chest ache.
“You can borrow clothes if you want,” Wanda said, setting her keys down. “Unless sleeping in your skirt is part of your mysterious corner person aesthetic.”
You laughed under your breath. “You’re making fun of me now?”
“A little.”
She moved closer slowly, like she was giving you every opportunity to retreat.
You didn’t.
By the time she stopped, barely a foot separated you.
Your pulse was so loud you were convinced she could hear it.
Wanda looked at you for a long moment before reaching up and gently fixing a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so soft it nearly hurt.
Your own hands found themselves in the belt loops of her jeans, just against her belt, tilting your head up to look at her.
The air in the room seemed to thin, the only sound being the soft hum of the refrigerator and the frantic rhythm of your own heart.
By curling your fingers through her belt loops, you pulled her closer, pretending to possess a confidence you didn’t fully feel but wanted badly to believe in.
Wanda’s hand didn't move from your hair. Instead, her thumb traced the shell of your ear, a touch so light it sent a shiver straight down your spine.
Her gaze dropped to where your hands rested against her waist, a small, knowing hum vibrating in her throat.
"Thought you wanted to run away," she murmured, her voice dropping an octave.
"I do," you whispered, though you didn't pull back. "I’m terrified."
Wanda stepped into the remaining space, her body heat blooming against yours. She didn't grab you; she simply rested her hands over yours, her palms warm against the backs of your knuckles, anchoring you to her.
"Of me?" she asked softly. "Or of this?"
"Of the fact that you see me," you admitted, your voice trembling.
“And you haven't looked away yet."
Wanda leaned down, her forehead resting against yours. The scent of her, vanilla, a hint of woodsmoke from the compound, and something uniquely her clouded your senses.
"I'm not going to look away," she promised, her breath fanning over your lips. "I’ve spent too much time looking for you to stop now."
She tilted her head just a fraction, her lips brushing against the corner of your mouth, hesitant and asking.
It was a silent question, a final safety check for the person she knew was always looking for an exit.
You didn't look for the exit this time.
You let go of the belt loops and slid your hands up, your palms flattening against the small of her back, pulling her flush against you.
The contact was electric, a grounded wire finally finding the earth.
Wanda let out a soft, shaky exhale, a rare crack in her "infuriating calm" and then she was kissing you.
It wasn't like the movies; there was no explosion, just a deep, tectonic shift. It was slow and hungry, tasting of the wine from the party and the honesty of the car ride.
It was the feeling of being found.
When she pulled back just an inch, her eyes were dark, searching yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.
"Still want to sleep?" she whispered, her smile teasing but her eyes incredibly serious.
You let out a breathy, startled laugh, your forehead dropping back onto her shoulder. "I think... maybe the 'being good' part of the night is over."
Wanda’s hands slid down to your hips, her grip firm and possessive. "I certainly hope so, detka.”
You slid your hand back down to her belt, now undoing it as she captured your lips into a sudden kiss.
You undid her belt and let your hands find the button of her jeans, undoing them slowly, as Wanda was now running her hands up your bare thigh.
Your skirt now being bunched up around her waist, while her hand captured them in a tightening grip.
“Wanda,” you whine against her mouth, as you feel her grin “bedroom.. please.”
Words were unnecessary.
The weight of her hands on your waist as she lifted you spoke for her.
The sound of Wanda’s footsteps against the cool tile echoed through the apartment, followed by the light smack of your lips parting.
The bedroom door barely had time to swing open before Wanda walked you backward into it, her mouth finding yours again in the dark. Not frantic. Deliberate. The way she did everything when it came to you.
She found the lamp on the nightstand without looking. Soft light spilled across the room, and you understood immediately why she wanted it on.
She wanted to see you.
"Sit," she said softly against your mouth. Not a command. A request with a spine.
You sat on the edge of the bed. Wanda stood over you, unhurried, reaching behind herself to unclasp her bra and letting it fall without a second thought. Your mouth went dry. She watched you look at her and she let you, patient and unbothered, like she had all night and intended to use every minute of it.
Your hands reached for her immediately. She caught your wrists.
"Not yet," she murmured.
The protest died in your throat. She released you slowly and reached instead for the buttons of your blouse, undoing each one with a focused, deliberate care that was somehow more undoing than if she'd torn it open. When she pushed it off your shoulders her palms dragged down your arms on the way, warm and slow.
Her eyes moved over you and something in her expression shifted. Hunger she'd been keeping carefully leashed finally showing at the edges.
"God," she said quietly. Almost to herself.
She unclasped your bra next and the cool air hit your skin a second before her hands replaced it, cupping you with a reverence that made your back arch instinctively into her touch. Her thumbs moved in slow circles and the sound you made was embarrassingly immediate.
Wanda smiled. "Sensitive."
"Don't say it like that."
"Like what?" Her thumbs moved again. Deliberate.
You grabbed her wrists this time. She let you hold them there, amused, and then she leaned down and pressed her mouth to your throat instead. Your grip went slack.
She laid you back against the bed with one hand flat against your sternum, not pushing, just guiding. Her mouth traced down your collarbone, your sternum, closing hot over your breast while her hand slid down your stomach. You hips lifted before you could stop them.
"Impatient," she murmured against your skin.
"Wanda"
"I hear you." She pressed her lips to your ribs. Your stomach. The soft skin just below your navel. "I'm not in a hurry."
That was the cruelest thing she could have said. You already felt half out of your mind and she'd barely started, her mouth unhurried against your body while her fingers traced the waistband of your underwear without dipping below it.
"Please," you said. The word scraped out rough.
She looked up at you from where she hovered, chin resting just above the fabric. Her eyes were very dark.
"Please what," she said softly. "Tell me what you want."
Your face burned. "You know what I want."
"I do." She pressed a single kiss to the inside of your hip. "I want to hear you say it."
You held her gaze and told her. The words felt enormous leaving your mouth. Wanda's expression did something devastating at the sound of them, her composure cracking just slightly at the edges.
"Good girl," she murmured, and pulled the fabric down your legs.
She took her time. That was perhaps the most undoing thing about her. She was in absolutely no hurry. She pressed her mouth to the inside of your knee, dragged her lips up the soft skin of your inner thing, let her breath ghost exactly where you needed her before pulling back. By the time she finally gave you what you were asking for your hands were already twisted in her hair, your whole body coiled tight.
She was methodical about it. Attentive in the same way she was attentive about everything else concerning you, reading every sound you made, every shift of your hips, adjusting without being asked. When she found your sweet spots, she didn't move from it. When you tried to pull her closer she let you, mouth curving against you in a quiet satisfaction.
"Don't stop," you breathed. "Please don't... Wanda..."
She didn't stop.
When you came apart her hands were pining your hips down firmly and your thighs were shaking around her and her name left your mouth in pieces. She worked you through every second of it, slow and thorough, not pulling back until you were tugging weakly at her hair.
She kissed the inside of your thighs once before moving back up your body. When her mouth found yours you could taste yourself on her lips and the intimacy of it sent a second wave through you before the first had the chance to fully settle.
"Still with me?" she murmured.
"Barely," you admitted.
She smiled against your mouth. "Good."
Her hand slid between you again and you gasped. "Wanda.. I just-"
"I know." She kissed the corner of your mouth. Your jaw. The soft skin below your ear. "You can."
And she was right. With her fingers curling into you and her mouth against your throat and her voice low and certain in your ear, coaxing and relentless all at once, you could. You did. Twice more before she finally gathered you against her side, pressing her lips to your temple while you caught your breath in pieces.
The room was quiet. Your whole body felt wrung out and liquid, heavy against the sheets. Wanda's hand moved slowly up and down your spine.
"Still want to run?" she asked eventually, her voice quiet.
Summary: When you're working your shift at Wanda's bookstore, someone decides to ask you out on a date. Wanda has to make sure you know who you belong to.
Authors Note: I had this idea come to me today, this is going to be part of the other story I posted about this. Also I so need help picking a name for this series! send ideas of names and just story ideas! Anyways I hope you love it, this is like my first smut that ive written all the way through, so let me know your thoughts! Much Love ~ H
It was finally the weekend, no classes, no stress, and a whole lot of time with your girls. This morning you woke up with a jump, because today you had a shift at Wanda’s bookstore. When you originally came up with the idea about a month ago, Natasha shut you down quick. Reminding you that they pay for your stuff, so there’s no need to work.
You begged them, you weren’t the kind of person who could just do nothing all the time. You had spent years of your life playing sports throughout high school, practices every night, tournaments on Saturday’s, and open gym on Sunday. You’ve never not done anything. So you made them a deal, you would only work every other weekend and they would be short shifts. Now this wasn’t part of the deal, but your very first day you knew that it would become a routine.
Wanda wanted to be there while you worked.
Whether it was because she wanted to make sure you were eating and drinking, or she just wanted to spend time with you. You couldn’t tell. But you knew it probably treaded on the line between both. Wanda agreed pretty quickly, a bright smile adorning her face at the mention of you spending time at the shop.
Natasha was a little more on the fence about it.
She reasoned that you could simply just spend time at the shop, instead of having to actually work. It was endearing that she wanted to take care of you, after all it took awhile for them to convince you to let them fund your life. You had argued saying that you didn't want to seem like you were using them, the look on both of their faces when the words came out of your mouth, was absolute disbelief.
It had taken while to get used to, they put their card numbers in your Apple Pay, also ordering you a hard copy to have in case. To say they had money was an understatement, because you had convinced Wanda to show you the account. Using a lot more than words, but your mouth still got you what you wanted. When she finally showed you, all you could do was stare, and gasp, and stare some more.
Eventually you got Natasha to agree to the deal, but with the deal came more rules. You have to take an hour lunch break, per Wandas request (Mostly because she wants time to fuck you on your lunch break). You were to be on time to every shift, you couldn't skip out just because you forgot to take your meds again. The last rule was simple yet the hardest one to follow, see your girls know you love to read.
Whether it be romance, angst, or smut, if you read a good book they wanted you to tell them about it. They loved to hear about your interests, and you loved telling them about them. The romance and angst side was the easy part, but the smut side...that was a lot harder. Not because you were embarrassed, but because they loved to act out the scenes from your books.
It's embarrassing because you get so shy talking about it, every time you guys talked about a new scene, especially one from the books you read. You can't help but shy away from their gaze. Which is a complete opposite switch from when you're actually in the scenes. Natasha loves poking at your shyness, whenever your cheeks get dusty she'll say something along the lines of,
"You weren't this shy last night bunny, when my strap was pounding into you, and you were eating mommy's pretty pussy. No you were very vocal about what you wanted then."
The bad thing is she was right, and you can't explain why it happens.
So now you're at the bookstore, sitting behind the counter with a book on your lap. "Hidden Pictures" by Jason Rekulak, its one of your favorite books that you've reread multiple times. Wanda sits in her office, the door cracked enough that she can see you from her desk. Every now and then she'll come out to see how you're doing, refilling your Owala since she knows you forget.
The bell chimes above the door, signaling someone is walking in the store. You lift your head, placing your pink bookmark in your book to save your spot. A girl your age walks in, her strawberry blonde hair blowing in the breeze from outside. You know who it is, you've seen her in passing a couple of times. She's the girl who took your spot on the basketball team when you quit, you weren't mad of course it was your decision and your glad someone else who loves the sport got an opportunity to play.
Her names Olivia, she's taller than you and she's super sweet in the short conversations you've had. She gives you a bright smile when she sees you, coming over with a book she bought two weeks ago. She sets it on the counter, her eyes never leaving yours.
"Hey! I didn't think you'd be in today, you were gone yesterday."
You were supposed to work yesterday, but you were sick. You had woke up with the worst headache and your throat was super scratchy. After hours of taking cold meds and resting, you all figured out it wasn't the flu, just your terrible allergies. You had forgotten that since spring was coming fast, all the flowers were blooming and pollen was one of your worst allergies.
After taking your three different prescribed allergy meds, you felt like a brand new woman. Wanda and Natasha agreed to let you work today, as long as you took your allergy medication and drank lots of water.
"Yeah, I had terrible allergies yesterday." You grab her book, scanning the back of it to process her return. "but I'm glad I'm feeling better today."
She nods at your words, her smile never fading. When her return is processed you hand her, her refund, your hands brushing just slightly as she took the money. She turns to leave except she doesn't make it all the way around, before she's turning back to you as if she remembered something.
"Oh! I was going to ask you if you wanted to grab dinner?"
The question stopped you, your breath catching just slightly, not enough for her to notice. You can hear something drop in Wanda's office, not a big crash, more like she dropped her pen on her desk. You realize that you have been silent entirely to long, and when your eyes find Olivias she's looking at you with regret.
"If that's weird I'm sorry! I know we don't know each other that well."
Your eyes widen at her slight panic, bringing your hands up in a 'no it's okay' motion. See no one technically knew you were taken, you can't really tell people that the bookstore owner, and her wife the most feared lawyer around, are your girlfriends. That still doesn't stop you from rushing the words out.
"No it's okay! I'm actually taken, I have a girlfriend."
Her eyes widen at my words, apologies rushing from her lips. By this time in the conversation Wanda is making her way out of her office, her jaw set in a way that tells you she's pissed. Olivia stumbles out a few more apologies, turning to leave quickly. Wanda walks right by you, over to the 'open' sign and flips it to closed.
She pauses a moment, locks the door, then turns around slowly. Her jaw is still set, her pupils blown wide. She stalks over to you, coming behind you and grabbing the back of your neck firmly, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that you move without thinking. Wanda guides you in front of her, walking you through the door to her office, stopping briefly to shut and lock the door.
You can't help the small pool of wetness forming in your panties, the uncomfortable sticky feeling rubbing every step. Wanda stops you in front of her chair, turning you around and sitting you down. She's silent as she drops to her knees in between your spread legs, her hands coming up to the waistband of your shorts. For a small moment her eyes find yours, softening just a fraction to make sure you're okay. You nod softly, your eyes conveying to her that you want this.
"Words bunny."
"Yes mommy, I'm okay. I want this."
She didn't wait long after my words before she drags your shorts and panties down in one go, her eyes raking over your exposed dripping hole.
"Is this for her?" She sneers, her hands gripping your hips hard enough that her nails leave imprints. She looks up at you, her eyes dark and hungry. "Or is this for mommy, bunny?"
"You mommy"
The need to feel her inside you is growing by the minute, but she takes her time. Her lips find the inside of your thighs, trailing possessive kisses wherever they can reach. Sucking, biting, and claiming every inch of your skin. Dark purple bruises start forming when her mouth leaves for a new spot, her thumb finds your swollen clit brushing over it with a featherlike touch.
Your hips buck instantly, a small whine leaving your lips when her other hand forces your hips down. Her lips still marking your thighs, and her thumb rubbing torturously slow circles around your clit, your stomach burns with need.
The first brush of her lips on your soaked entrance has a low moan tearing from your throat, your hands gripping the armrests of the chair. You know better than to grab her hair without permission, you learned that the hard way. She licks a slow stripe up your slit, her tongue flicking over your clit sending your hips rolling forward and your eyes rolling back into your head.
Her lips wrap around your sensitive bud, sucking on it as two of her fingers circle your entrance. Her lips still wrapped around you, her eyes find yours, her pupils a shade of black you've never seen them before. She pulls her lips back just enough to get one word out before she's thrusting her fingers inside of you in one go.
Mine.
She sets a brutal pace with her fingers, her tongue licking you with the same intensity. It's too much and not enough at the same time, her fingers curling inside of you to hit that spongy spot, her lips sucking your clit just as fierce. Your orgasm builds fast, moans slipping out of you freely now, your legs shaking from the pure intensity of all the feelings you're feeling. You're about to cum and she can tell, her fingers curling every thrust, her lips sucking harder, her free hand snakes up your shirt pinching your hard nipples.
"M-Mommy...please, 'm gonna cum."
You can barely get the words out before her fingers speed up, she pulls her lips back looking up at you with a such intensity that you've never seen before. She just stares for a moment, her eyes raking down your shaking body, your droopy eyes, your mouth that is resting in an "o" position. You know you look fucked out, and she loves it.
"Cum for mommy."
Your orgasm tore through you before she finished her sentence, your eyes clamping shut, your leg muscles tensing, a gush of wetness flowing down Wanda's fingers. Her fingers keep their pace, fucking you through your orgasm. Only does she stop, when your hands pathetically meet her head trying to push her away from the overstimulation.
She brings her fingers up to her lips, you whine at the loss of feeling full. She wraps her lips around her fingers sucking you off of them, before she places one small kiss right on your clit, causing your hips to jerk. She comes up and kisses you, letting you taste yourself on her lips. She pulls back slightly, her breath mixing with yours.
"You did so well for mommy, bunny." Her fingers find your clit once more, circling it ever so slowly. "When we get home, Daddy is going to want to claim this pretty pussy next."
summary: wanda is tired of how much you work, so when you get home, you relief stress together. Yearner!wanda. My treat for pride month 🌈
warnings: angsty if you squint, afab!reader, pussy eating, making out, scissoring, wanda is a needy mess.
The sheets twisted around Wanda's fingers, her knuckles white as she gripped the fabric. Three weeks. Three agonizing weeks of late nights, missed dinners, and you crawling into bed long after she had fallen asleep. Tonight was different. Tonight, she waited.
The bedroom door clicked open.
"You're still awake." Your voice cracked.
You paused in the doorway, silhouetted by the hallway light. "I thought you'd be asleep by now. It's almost midnight."
"I couldn't." Wanda sat up, the sheet pooling at her waist. "I've been lying here for hours. Waiting."
A soft sigh. The door closed with a quiet snick, plunging you into darkness save for the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Wanda's eyes had adjusted long ago. She always could make out every detail, the tired slope of shoulders, the way you head tilted slightly to the left when you were trying to figure out what to say.
"Wanda—"
"Please." The word escaped before she could stop it. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with you coming to bed when I'm already asleep. That I'm okay with goodnight kisses that barely happen."
You moved closer, perching on the edge of the mattress. This close, Wanda could smell the faint trace of your jasmine perfume, the subtle undertone of exhaustion. "I know. I'm sorry. Work has been—"
"I don't care about work." Wanda shifted closer, her hand finding your thigh. The touch was electric after so long without.
"I care about you. About us. I miss you." Her voice dropped, vulnerability bleeding through. "I miss the way you look at me. The way you touch me. I need you to want me again."
"Want you?" A soft laugh, almost disbelieving. "Wanda, I've wanted you every single day. I've just been too exhausted to do anything about it."
"Then let me."
Wanda didn't wait for permission. She slid her hand higher, fingers tracing the seam of your jeans. The sharp intake of breath above you was answer enough. She shifted onto her knees, pressing closer, her lips finding the curve of your neck.
"I've thought about this” she murmured against warm skin. "Every night. Lying next to you, wanting to wake you up. Wanting to beg you to touch me."
A hand threaded through Wanda's hair, tugging gently. "Why didn't you?"
"Because I'm a coward." Her teeth grazed earlobe. "Because I thought maybe you didn't want me anymore."
"Baby." The word came out rough, strained. "I've always wanted you. Even when I'm falling asleep mid-sentence. Even when I'm too tired to keep my eyes open."
Wanda pulled back, meeting your gaze. "Show me."
The kiss that followed was anything but gentle. Your mouths collided, desperate and hungry, three weeks of separation collapsing into a single moment. Wanda's fingers fumbled with buttons, pushing fabric aside, desperate for skin. You responded in kind, pulling at Wanda's shirt, her movements growing more frantic.
"Need you” Wanda gasped between kisses.
"Please. I need—"
"I know. I've got you."
Clothes fell away like shed skin until there was only underwear between you. Wanda pushed you onto your back, trailing kisses down your body. She worshipped every inch of exposed flesh, her tongue tracing patterns across your collarbones, between your breasts, over the plane of your stomach.
"You're overdressed," you murmured.
Wanda laughed, breathless. "So are you."
A few more movements, and you were both bare, moonlight painting your bodies in silver and shadow. Wanda settled between tour thighs, looking up the length of your body with reverence.
"I've dreamed about this." She pressed a kiss to one inner thigh. "About tasting you." Another kiss, higher. "About making you fall apart."
"Wanda—"
"Let me."
She didn't wait for an answer. Her mouth found your dripping cunt, and the sound that filled the room was filthy. Wanda took her time despite her own desperation, licking every fold and crease with her tongue. Your fingers tangled in her hair, tightening with each stroke.
"Fuck…baby.."
Wanda had no intention of stopping. She traced slow circles in your clit, varying pressure and speed, reading every reaction like a map. Your hips began to move, rolling against Wanda's mouth, chasing pleasure.
"I could stay here forever." She said teasingly.
"Don't—" A gasp. "Don't you dare—I can’t.."
Wanda smiled against you, then sealed her lips around your bundle of nerves and sucked. The sound you made was indecent. Wanda repeated the motion, adding the gentle scrape of teeth, and watched as you as your back arched off the mattress.
"Close. I'm—"
Wanda doubled her efforts, desperate to make you cum. She wanted to feel it, wanted to taste it, wanted to know that she could still do this to the woman she loved.
You came apart with a cry, Wanda's name on your lips like a prayer. But she wasn't done. Her own need had become unbearable, an ache that demanded attention. She crawled back up your body, pressing mouths together in a messy kiss.
"I need more," she whispered against your lips. "I need you."
"What do you need baby?"
She moved, legs intertwining, cunts pressing against each other. The friction was electric. Wanda gasped at the contact, her hips stuttering forward. You met her movements, and found a rhythm, desperate, uncoordinated, and absolutely perfect.
"Look at me” you commanded.
Wanda obeyed, meeting your gaze as she rocked her hips against you desperately. The intimacy of it struck her, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
"I love you" she choked out. "I love you so much."
"I know." Your hands cupped Wanda's face. "I love you too. I'm sorry I made you doubt that."
Wanda increased her pace, the pressure building in her wet cunt. "Don't stop. Please don't—"
"Never. I'm never stopping."
Your bodies moved faster, grinding together in need and want. Wanda could feel you getting close again, could feel her own release approaching like a wave about to crash.
"Together” she pleaded. "Cum with me."
You pulled her down for a kiss, and that was all it took. You shattered together, bodies tensing and legs shaking together.
As you came down, collapsing into each other's arms, Wanda pressed her face into your neck. Her breathing was ragged, her body was trembling with aftershocks.
"Stay," she whispered. "When you wake up tomorrow, still be here."
"Always."
But even as sleep began to pull at her consciousness, you both felt the familiar ache settling back into the bones, a yearning that hadn't been fully satisfied, a hunger that demanded more.
older!neighbor!wanda who slowly corrupts housewife!reader …
-telling you how pathetic your husband is, how you could do so much better than a man who simply brushes you off.
-and desperate for her approval, you beg wanda to help your marriage, and wanda desperate for more obliges. wanda teaches you how to be a good wife, a good woman. teaching you to cook, clean, but most importantly…how to please.
-and little you….you want to please him..so you tell yourself, but it’s not his affection you crave—it’s hers.
-and wanda knows all about your little feelings towards her, so much to where she initiated the arrangement! One where she teaches you how to please a man.
-what’s a better way to learn than hands on?
-“let me be your test doll…for practicing of course” she’d say in that sickeningly sweet tone of hers. underlying cunningness that flies right over your head as she inches closer, her hand coming to your jaw forcing it straight, making your nervous wandering eyes look at her. Only her.
-“this is what good neighbors do babydoll….what kind of neighbor would I be if I let you prance around all clueless hm?” how could you not believe her when she talks so sweetly?
-Wanda has slowly become what you consider your close friends. you love gushing about her to your friends, telling your family back home is what wonderful neighbor you have…how she helps you navigate married life, sorta like a mentor—you phrased it.
-but mentors don’t have their hands in your hair pushing your face closer to her cunt, instructing you to stick your tongue out further, and moaning out in between heavy breaths “fuck keep going baby…doing so good for mommy…such a fast learner..”
-and a fast learner you are, one of wanda’s favorites? teaching you how to ride, by having you up and down her thick strap. saying “just like that babydoll….exactly like that” while she watches herself disappear into you over and over. It gives her a rush to see your pretty thighs—marked from her own love bites—tremble all tired from how long she’s had you bouncing.
-maybe next she’ll even introduce you to her lovely friend natasha….her mind is running with the amount of corrup—teaching she can do to you.
thinking about wanda’s hands and her black tipped fingers as they move delicately in the air, red wisps of her magic swirling around them. ugh, I need evil wanda biblically
A/n: this makes no sense and is hella rushed, but fuck it
Summary: All you wanna do for the summer is work as much as possible to avoid your new stepmother, no matter the cost on your body and mind. Your rich stepmother seems appalled by the idea, forcing you on a weekend getaway with her to... bond.
Wordcount: 4k
Warnings: Step-parent, the most unoriginal plot in existence, mommy kink, dom/sub, mock sympathy, pet names, praise kink, age gap (R=mid 20s, W=early 40s), smut, somnophilia, grinding, mild dub-con, humping, fingering, perv Wanda, rich people
The cracked handle of the broom is clutched loosely in your hand as you take in the massacre before you.
Countless cereal boxes are scattered along the floor, some slowly seeping out more work for you as pebbles and crumbs ooze from the broken plastic seals. Drifting in an ocean of Captain Crunch, Lucky Charms, and Cheerios, you get closer to the source of your interrupted break.
It seems that during your fifteen-minute lunch break, the cereal aisle exploded.
Clusters of cereal lie strewn along the floor with strange voids in the middle, like a shitty murder mystery, just that instead of a body being outlined by white tape, it was more like a blob monster drawn with Cheerios.
It wasn’t the first time either- this is the third time just this week that you’ve had to clean it up.
Safe to say, your workplace has a cereal killer on the loose.
The squeak of obnoxiously loud sneakers screeches to a halt on the opposite side of the murder scene. A shadow falls across the dire situation as murder suspect #1 completely disregards the mess in front of you. Instead, the boom of hands colliding with each other has you raising your brows in annoyance.
“Why are you just standing there? Come on, we need you at the registers, chop chop!” Kyle, your asshole of a manager, doesn’t waste a second to hear your response, already halfway across the room before you can open your mouth. His condescending clapping still echoing down the hall with his retreat.
If it weren’t for the fact that he always gave you the shifts you wanted, you would’ve made him the murder outline by now. However, as it stands, he’s the only reason you get out of the house as much as you do, so with a huff, you get to work.
To say your time back from Uni has been dull would be an understatement. The thought drifts somewhat loosely in your head as you clock out at the end of your shift. It’s late, the time trickling into midnight as you make your way across the parking lot.
Mindlessly kicking a rock around, it jumps over bumps and crashes against divots in the pavement. The gentle clatter of stone striking is suddenly overpowered by the honk of a car.
The air shifts, her presence layers itself like something tangible until it slathers against the inside of your throat. You can’t escape the jump of your pulse or the squeeze of your lungs as headlights illuminate you in the darkness.
You attempt an on-foot escape from the familiar Porsche closing in on you. Your shoe digs into your heel, the bent material has become a near-constant ache as it aggravates the blister that brewed long ago. A slick dribble of blood smears itself against your white sock, spreading until a ring of red peeks over the edge of your shoe.
The voice of your stepmother follows your hasty retreat, but your ignorance is short-lived as Wanda points an accusatory finger through her rolled-down window.
“Nuh uh, no avoiding me today, baby Bambi.” The pet name runs through you like a splash of cold water, sending chills down your spine as you freeze in your path.
Wanda points to the passenger seat, undeterred by your initial resistance. It has become a dance between you and your stepmother since you came home for the summer. She would insist that you both do something together, to bond or whatever, while you would take on extra hours and avoid her religiously.
She has tried to pick you up from work multiple times now, but you would pretend you didn’t see her, simply walking past or hitching a ride with a coworker.
You know it’s rude, but you’d rather be rude than admit that you have a crush on your own stepmother.
There is no telling how it festered, but since the moment you laid your eyes on her, she’s consumed you. The idea of spending more time with her than strictly necessary sinks like a weight into the pit of your stomach.
You’d rather she hate you than be disgusted by your perverted crush.
Besides, you are well over the age where you need to bond with your father’s partner. It’s not like it will last anyway, anyone with a pair of eyes can tell they married for business’s sake. Your father owns a rather lucrative business in the corporate world, a business that just so happens to have been your stepmother’s business rival until the two CEOs supposedly found love.
Yeah, love is what you would call the new car in your dad’s driveway and him stepping down to let Wanda handle both businesses.
There was no telling why she hadn’t left him yet.
Today would be another one of your elusive instances if it weren’t for the look she is giving you. It’s stricter than usual, with a tightness around her mouth and firmness in her eyes.
With a sigh, you climb into the passenger seat. A waft of rich perfume engulfs your tired frame. It creeps over your skin like a second layer, spreading the warm scent of cinnamon and cherry over your sweat-stained uniform. Wanda regards you with a strange fondness in her eyes as your slumped frame not so subtly leans toward her in pursuit of the smell's source.
Wanda is dressed more homely today, her blond hair slung into a side part and her face void of makeup. Even her clothing choice is far beyond the usual. You’ve gotten used to the blazers and form-fitting dress pants over the past few weeks, but today she’s in a simple white shirt coupled with some washed jeans.
The sluggishness of your exhaustion must be doing a number on you, as you don’t even realize you’re staring until a touch against your leg startles you.
A hand settles, palm up, on your thigh as she drives out of the parking lot. The shitty fabric of your work pants does little to diffuse the heat that radiates from her. A strange lump forms in your stomach at the thought of heat spreading elsewhere, as her patience seems to run thin. “Come on, hand it over.”
You blink in confusion, looking over to where her eyes stay glued to the road, in question.
She glances at you, a hint of amusement and something you’ve never seen on her, flashing across her features, “Your phone. You know the rules, honey.”
Ah right…
It was one of the weird things she had started implementing into your life.
The rules.
Most of them were fairly easy: keep your room clean, wash the dishes when it’s your turn, and help make dinner when you aren’t working. Then there were the stranger ones. Suddenly, you had a curfew at 10 pm outside of work hours, you weren’t allowed on your phone in Wanda’s vicinity, and only approved guests could stay over.
Knowing there is no point in making a fuss about it, you fish your phone out before dropping it gently into Wanda’s waiting palm. She opens the middle console and puts it in before leaning over slightly to pat your thigh in reward.
“Well done, darling. Thank you.”
The pet names are another odd addition to Wanda’s involvement in your life. Though they are always sweet, they make you squirm. People in your life never really use nicknames, or pet names, or anything other than your name when they are referring to you.
Wanda is an anomaly in your preferably predictable life.
The crunch of gravel beneath the tires lulls you out of your thoughts. The car drums gently atop the small rocks, some of them knocking against the rim in a soothing hiss that rings through the quiet car.
However, it does confuse you. The road back to your dad’s place doesn’t have any gravel roads. Now that you’re thinking about it, you're pretty sure Wanda is driving the wrong direction altogether.
“Where are we going?”
The slim silence while Wanda seems to ponder her wording makes a drop of sweat drip down your back, “My apartment. Your father is gone for the weekend, and I thought we girls should bond a little.”
Your sluggish mind takes a moment to catch up, merely staring at her, until it hits you like a slap in the face. Spending more time with her addicting presence is the last thing you should be doing. If Wanda had any sense in her, she would see why you avoid her and run for the hills.
“Wan-”
Her hand, not currently occupying the steering wheel, is in your face. Squishing your cheeks together harsher than necessary, Wanda tsks, “No. I don’t want to hear it. Is it really that horrible to spend time with me?”
Fingertips release you from her hold, instead, they glide softly along your cheek. It hypnotizes you, your need to comfort her is stronger than your will to stay away: “No, of course not.”
A happy hum is all you get before her warmth is gone, both hands on the wheel and eyes staying strictly forward as Wanda keeps driving. “Good. Then it’s decided.”
You sigh your agreement.
────୨ৎ────
A lone chair sits in Wanda's luxurious hallway. It’s the first thing you notice, its rich brown color absorbs some of the warm light filtering from above. It’s a stark contrast from the rest of the white hall.
Paintings are scattered across both sides of the hallway, the illustrations vary, some abstract pieces hanging above the coatrack while a far too explicit painting of a woman engaging in… some interesting acts… sits atop the door that you assume leads to the living room.
You squirm where you stand, twisting your fingers as blush crawls up your neck. Wanda’s soft chuckle directly behind you does little to diffuse the sudden tension tightening your stance.
“Come here.”
There is no time to react before Wanda pushes you onto that neat little chair.
The groan of wood falls on deaf ears as all your senses hone in on Wanda’s hands. Fingers slide against your knees, the pressure of her fingertips pushing against the stiff material of your pants before grasping your ankle. Words choke themselves, stuck as your stepmother inspects your bloodied sock.
Blond tresses sway against your exposed skin as she lifts your pants for a better look. A dried slab of blood clings to your skin, a smudge of red festering on the back of your shoe where the broken back resides.
A suspiciously handy med-kit resides under the chair, Wanda getting to work with a quiet, “Poor baby.”
You stay silent as she goes through the motions of cleaning your bloody blister before adding a silly-themed band-aid over it. Leaning back on her knees with one last pat to your heel, Wanda eyes your destroyed shoes before looking back at you.
“I fear those will have to go.”
You know she’s right: if not for your bleeding heel, then the fact that the soles are practically nonexistent by now. Still, you can’t help the tears that build in your eyes at the news. You know you’re just tired and being stupid, but you really like these shoes.
The thought of fighting against her words must flash across your face because Wanda clicks her tongue before you have the chance to open your mouth.
“Now now, I know you’re tired, but there is no reason to throw a tantrum, baby Bambi.”
A stunned stillness settles over you at her words, it’s infuriating how she belittles you, yet some small part of you blooms under the condescending tone that drips so sweetly from her tongue.
The pitter-patter of Wanda’s socked feet hitting the wooden flooring as she starts walking away from you almost has you on your knees begging for forgiveness before she stops.
Illuminated by the bathing light of the living room, Wanda stands directly under her unique art. The warm orange bounces against her loose curls, leaving a strange dreamlike effect as her words float around the far too empty space between the two of you.
“Now, come, it’s late and mo- and I don’t want more attitude in the morning.” The soft murmur of her voice fades away from you as she turns, leaving you to force your depleting strength into your muscles and dart after her at what you hope is an appropriate speed.
Wanda leads you into a guest room, leaving with a curt goodnight.
It all seems awfully rushed to you. You know it’s probably for the best, the mere sliver of affection she granted you today already having left an addiction buzz inside your head.
But you’re greedy.
You want more.
It’s the last thought you have before you succumb to the strangeness of tonight, drifting in an ocean of cinnamon and cherry as your head hits red silk.
────୨ৎ────
The cusp of darkness lies like a shroud above you as you wake up. Something is pushing toward you, heat engulfing your tired frame. Seconds tick by in a meaningless fashion before your mind catches up to the tickle of blonde tresses against your back.
It seems that sometime in the night, Wanda has come back for you. She cocoons around you, pushing in at strange intervals.
You almost ask her if something is wrong before a sound submerges your train of thought.
Wanda’s scattered breath weighs heavily in the air. Sounds you have never heard from her before now moaned directly into your ear.
It stuns you into silence as you focus on her movements.
Hips buck against your back, seeking pleasure in your unassuming form. Wanda grinds gently, like waves cruising along the coastline, back and forth in smooth motions. Her sleeping shorts ruffle on your lower back, bunching with the movement of her hips and pressing into you.
You can hear her breath grow heavier by the second, puffing against the shell of your ear. The last remnants of slumber burn away from you as your own breath hitches in your throat. You wonder what she’s dreaming about.
At least you think she’s dreaming…
The lips resting against your neck expose Wanda's pleasure as she moans silently, “Fuck, I can’t stop… Baby Bambi, fuck.”
The sound of her sends a shiver through you. She isn’t dreaming. Your stepmother is humping your sleeping form because she wants you.
Needs you.
You have to suppress the need to grind back into her desperately. It’s like a sickness, her desperation bleeding into your own as your breath grows quicker.
A hand sneaks beneath your t-shirt. The warmth of her palm travels up- up- up until she’s cupping one of your tits gently. Fingers circle the sensitive flesh of your nipple, not hard enough to rouse any real reaction, but constant enough for the wetness between your thighs to grow.
“You feel so good, baby Bambi.”
The ache in your chest explodes at her words, leaving you to pant against the sheets as you try to keep quiet. You fear what would happen if she knew you were awake, the thought of her stopping almost lets a whine slip past your slack lips.
Her other hand palms against your side now, gripping your hips lightly before braving the path down. She skims over your lower stomach, pushing you deeper against Wanda’s moving hips before she’s rubbing a teasing pressure against your underwear.
Two fingers rub in circular motions, only interrupted by her wild jerking. Wanda’s fingers drag a path across the sticky wetness of your pussy. She tests the stretch of your underwear, pushing against your opening before retreating and returning to your clit.
The bucking turns rougher, with sporadic jumps followed by a drawn-out “Baby, fuck-”
You squeeze your eyes shut, begging for the mercy of her mounting pleasure before you come in your panties, untouched, and reveal yourself. Instead, there is a murmur against your neck, something that sounds suspiciously like “fuck it,” before soft lips trail kisses against the back of your neck.
The movement of her hips stops, then her haughty voice breaks the newfound stillness: “I know you’re awake.”
For a moment, the world freezes as a thousand thoughts drift through your head.
Has she known the entire time?
Were you not supposed to wake up?
Is she mad at you?
But your inner panic is cut short as a thigh pushes itself between your legs. The warmth of her is a stark contrast to the wet patch sticking to the inside of your thigh.
Her hands shift to hold your hips firmly as she starts rocking you with her movement, surrendering you to her mercy as she drags you against the meat of her thigh. Your swollen clit strains against the soaked fabric of your underwear, the flimsy material the only hindrance between your flesh and hers.
“Let mommy take care of you, hm, what do you say, baby?”
A desperate keen is the only response she gets as she flips you.
The weight of a body pins you flat against the bed, coarse fabric pushing along your back as her chest settles atop you. Rougher hands lift until your hips wag in the air.
“You really thought mommy wouldn’t notice, baby?”
There is not a moment of wasted breath before your underwear is quickly pushed to the side and her fingers plunge into you. The naughty noise of wet squealing and your surprised moans bounce against the bedroom walls.
“Fuck, well done, baby Bambi, you take me so well.” The hair on the back of your neck drifts with her words as they blow over your skin. Wanda’s pushing against her hand, humping you as she fucks you roughly.
She grunts deeply, “Can mommy tell you a secret?”
The pads of Wanda’s fingertips rail against your sweet spot repeatedly, her words barely hanging on to meaning. She laughs at your pathetic cries, pushing your head further into the sheets. A pool of saliva turns the white fabric sheer.
Her moans grow in volume with your own, the both of you speeding toward pure bliss.
“Shit, I've been thinking about this for so long.”
Your skin surrenders to her teeth as they lodge into your shoulder.
“Ever since I first saw you, mommy knew you needed her.”
She forces your head to the side before she’s kissing you deeply, a tongue forcing its way down your throat. Wanda licks into you as if she's starving, drinking your spit like it’s one of her expensive wines. Her pace speeds up, hurling you toward pleasure faster than you can keep up.
The pressure in your stomach grows and grows, your crying spreading spit across both of your faces.
Wanda hushes you, “Oh, I know, baby, I know.”
“You’ve been working so hard trying to hide from mommy, haven’t you, baby Bambi?”
Her voice grows louder, hinting at how deeply she is affected by her own words.
“It’s why you’re going to quit your job and spend your time with me.”
The fingers inside of you are the only thing you can focus on as you moan your answer.
Wanda releases you from her hold, sitting up on her knees until she towers over your frame. The sweet bliss of your orgasm fades away as she takes her fingers with her. You whine, tears springing to your eyes as the taste of your denied relief sits strong on your tongue.
“Will you do what mommy tells you?
Your ass pushes against her crotch, a small cry of frustration the only sound you manage to make as she palms your ass. You twist your neck all the way to see her, her question going unheard as the sight of her licking your arousal off her fingers consumes you.
The pink of her tongue curls around her digits, dragging across the wet pads of her fingertips seductively slowly. Wanda holds eye contact all the while you watch helplessly, wanting nothing more than for the fingers to drive back into you. A moan rumbles from deep in Wanda’s throat, your answering whine going ignored as she refuses to touch you.
Wanda clicks her tongue, the mental timer ticking down to its end tally.
A slap rings through the bedroom like a gunshot, almost louder than the keening moan that tears through you.
It startles you enough to have words spilling out of you faster than you can comprehend them,
“Yes! Yes, whatever you want! Please, mommy, anything!”
You barely know what you’re saying. Your words are nothing more than nonsensical babble, but it must have made her happy because her fingers come back, railing you harder than ever before. Wanda is back to humping you too, pushing her fingers deeper as she grinds into you.
“There you go, good girl!”
You can’t hear her anymore, the pressure in your stomach is now balancing on a needle’s point. It’s overwhelming: the thickness of your desire choking you, and you begin to fight against her grip. You don’t know what you’re doing, your mind far away as your body fights the inevitable.
Her weight settles back over you as she shushes you gently, her words soft even as her fingers continue their drilling into your wet hole.
“Hush, baby, you’re okay. You’re okay, give in. You can give in now.”
You whine, a panicked noise your only response as the feeling inside of you reaches its limit. It feels like you’re going to explode, the feeling stronger than you have ever felt it before. It blisters inside you, festering onto every nerve, expanding the numbing pleasure from the tips of your fingertips and down to your toes.
Wanda pushes your face into the pillows, the suffocating lack of air, strangely enough, sending you flying over the edge. The loud moaning and jerking against your back tell you that Wanda came right with you.
It’s the last thought you have before the void plunges you in headfirst.
A hazy flicker of static hums inside you as you float far above your own mind. Dim lights simmer beneath your eyelids, a pattern of no sense or reason drawing across your mind like a gentle embrace. Warmth envelopes you, a soothing voice cooing at you while wetness and sweat are wiped away with soft hands.
You’ve just returned to your body when Wanda slides back next to you in bed—all resemblance of space a laughable notion now. Her voice drifts along your residual softness, “Well done, my beautiful girl. You’ll call your manager in the morning, and then we’ll talk. Let's sleep.”
Her palm brushes your cheek before she leans down to plant a sweet kiss atop the red flush. You hum your agreement, the previous conversation long gone from memory. But if it’s what mommy wants, then it’s what she’ll get.
Wanda wraps around you, her body curling into your own as her hand cups you carefully.
Summary: Wanda says yes to Columbia University… but what about you?
Characters: stoner!wanda x reader
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: minor depression mention, makeup sex, marijuana use, mommy kink, teasing, pineapple on pizza (lol)
author’s note: happy birthday to my best girl, my beautiful girlfriend, who had lost faith in me about finishing this series… to which I’d say she was half right considering I never thought I’d have a finale here. I love you baby 🧡
cloud 9 au masterlist
“And I’m so goddamn proud of you! But what about us?! What about me, Wanda?” The tears began to fall and you watched as her excited expression fell, finally realizing what you had meant all along.
“Oh. I… I don’t know.”
It had been a full week since you’d last seen your girlfriend. It had also been a full week since you showered or left your room; barely getting up to pee and have a snack. You had tons of unread texts buzzing through your phone from Wanda. She was begging you to talk to her.
In that very long week, you’d gone through every scenario in your head. Everything from ‘she’ll probably just break up with me’, to ‘maybe I should just join her’. None of it made any sense. After all, Wanda told you she applied long before she moved here and you know she was telling the truth. Why was it so hard for you to believe that she forgot? You were so incredibly proud of her for getting a full ride to Columbia. Why were you also so sad?
*buzz buzz*
‘Please baby, I need to see you so I can explain!’
You picked up your phone and decided to respond. There were only two weeks left of summer break before Wanda would inevitably move across the country without you. Maybe she didn’t burn for you like you thought she did. Maybe you’ll always love her more. You ran your hands over your face in exasperation.
‘Ok’.
That’s all you responded with. You didn’t have much else in you. You didn’t even care to shower. You didn’t hear her text back since you had fallen asleep; dreaming of what could be if the world was a perfect place.
“Wanda, if you had your way you would’ve been late to your own wedding!”
“Baby please, I wasn’t late!”
“Only because I insisted that your brother be in charge of getting you here as quick as possible! You know that man is never late for anything.” The two of you laughed.
Salem walked over to Wanda and plopped himself in her lap, purring as she sat on the couch. You closed your eyes and sighed, picking up the black cat who gave you a stink eye as he walked away.
“Baby-“
“Wanda, please! You need to get dressed and we need to put our “smoking paraphernalia” away before your parents get here!”
Almost on cue, there was a knock on the front door, opening it up to see-
You sat up, tears about to stream down your cheeks as you were awoken to chip bags crumbling and a trash bag shuffling. Wanda had started cleaning up your depressive episode, and for a moment you forgot she had your spare key. Your parents’ house was nothing to brag about; a modern double wide with just enough bedrooms so you didn’t have to share with your sister growing up.
“Wanda-“
“Shhh, just let me do this, please,” she begged.
“Wanda, we need to talk,” you insisted. “Isn’t that why you asked to come over?”
“Well… yes but I do miss you,” she said quietly.
You didn’t respond as she continued to pick up the trash that had scattered around your bedroom. You weren’t a messy person by any means but this latest development had sent you spiraling. Wanda was your best friend, your lover, your partner, your soulmate. How could you let her move across the country when you were right here?
You didn’t realize tears were streaming down your cheeks now at full force. Wanda looked up from her cleaning spree and cooed. “Baby!”
“Baby please talk to me, the silent treatment has been killing me!” Wanda exclaimed.
“Killing you?! How do you think I feel?!” You asked. “We had this amazing, dream come true relationship, and a giant envelope comes in the mail and ruins it all!”
“Baby, I really did forget about it! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. This doesn’t have to be the end of us though,” Wanda said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“How can it not?! You’ll be three thousand plus miles away! And you’ll be busy with school and your new friends and probably a new girlfriend!” You cried out.
“Who said anything about a new girlfriend?!” Wanda asked incredulously. “You’re my girlfriend. You’re it for me, pretty girl. From the moment you stalked me at the skate park!”
Wanda’s comment did make you chuckle a bit. “But-“
“Just because I’ll be far away, doesn’t mean we can’t make this work! I can fly you out for weekend visits and we can FaceTime on all the days we can’t be there together in person! And we can still have our date nights and-“ Wanda sighed. “But… only if you want to try.”
“Wanda,” you whispered through tears. “I love you, but what if this doesn’t work?”
“I love you most, pretty girl. But we won’t know if it doesn’t work if we don’t try. I know it’s scary and I know the unknown is well… unknown… but what if it works and the time apart only brings us closer together?” Wanda said.
Wanda scooted further up in the bed to wrap her arms around you, pressing a kiss to your dirty hair. “Okay,” you said weakly.
“Okay?” Wanda asked.
“Okay, I’m willing to try. I don’t want to lose you Wanda, and I trust you with all that I have,” you said. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Anything baby! Anything at all!”
“You go out there and you kick Columbia’s ass!” You said, giggling slightly.
Wanda chuckled. “There’s my girl!”
She pulled you even closer to her and you had forgotten that it had been a week since you’d showered and you knew in that moment what she was about to say. “Can you promise me something in return?”
“Of course, my love.”
“Please don’t ever go an entire week without showering ever again?”
“Is it really that bad?” You asked, covering your face.
“It’s that bad,” Wanda said, giggling. “Let me help you out of bed so we can see if your legs still work.”
Wanda helped you stand, watching in disgust at how crumpled you looked but she was determined to take care of you. “Stay right there!”
You frowned, sitting on the edge of the bed, not knowing if you’d be able to stand so long without her. You could hear the running water from the bathroom, smiling to yourself a little as you could tell she was running a bath for you. Wanda came back to take your hand and bring you to the bathroom, where she had set up a nice warm bubble bath, lit some candles, and grabbed you a large glass of water; forcing you to drink it even though you’re not a fan.
“Wanda-“
“Shhhh, c’mere beautiful,” she cooed.
You blushed as Wanda removed your oversized shirt and underwear. “Sorry,” you mumbled.
“No my love, I’m sorry. My application and acceptance to Columbia should’ve been something that was talked about before this whole thing blew up. Let me make it up to you, baby,” Wanda said, as she removed her clothing as well. You couldn’t help but drool as usual. Wanda stepped in the bathtub first, before holding out a hand to help you follow suit.
The calming scent of lavender overwhelmed your senses as you sat in the bathtub with your girlfriend. You reached out to grab your wash cloth but Wanda swatted your hand away. “Let me,” she said quietly.
She washed your hair first, taking the time to massage your scalp, almost putting you to sleep with how good she is at that. After your hair was shampooed and conditioned, she helped wash your body, using a new gentle exfoliating scrub that you’d never seen before.
“Did my sister put you up to this?” You asked.
“No, it was my idea after she told me you smelled so bad that the neighbors down the street could smell you!”
“Hey!” You exclaimed, chuckling as you splashed her.
“I just wanted to make sure my baby was being taken care of is all,” Wanda cooed.
“I wasn’t doing a very good job of that myself,” you sighed. “I don’t know what I’ll do once you move, Wanda.”
“Shhh we will cross that bridge when we get to it, baby. Just let mommy take care of you tonight,” Wanda said softly. You hummed at the title and closed your eyes as she washed the filth and stink away.
“Baby we have to stand up so we can properly rinse the bubbles off,” Wanda said.
“Mmmm but you’re so cozy!” You whined.
“C’mon baby we can get cozy after we’re rinsed and dry,” Wanda cooed.
You huffed but obliged, slowly and carefully standing up so you didn’t slip. The two of you rinsed and stepped out of the tub; Wanda wrapping you in a warm, fluffy towel before guiding you back to your room. You’d never felt so pampered before; Wanda sitting behind you on your bed as she brushed your hair. The two of you went through your nighttime routines, almost as if living together was normal. And for just a moment, your thoughts weren’t plagued with the reality of Wanda leaving in a few short weeks.
“You need to eat,” Wanda said, kissing your shoulder after finishing with your hair.
“Can we just order a pizza?” You asked. “I don’t wanna cook or go out.”
“Of course, sweet girl,” Wanda cooed. “The usual?”
If your eyes could produce hearts, you were sure they would. You nodded, grabbing your vape pen and taking a few hits. You could definitely tell that after a week’s worth of rotting, you’d need to replace your cart sooner rather than later.
“That tasted like an email,” you said, coughing, and sputtering. Wanda laughed and you forgot how much you missed her in that moment.
“Here baby,” she said, handing you a fresh cart. She leaned in but then stopped herself. “May I kiss you?”
You nodded, but she frowned. “Yes please,” you whispered. Wanda leaned in again, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You grabbed her face and pulled her close, kissing her with so much emotion and love that maybe would somehow make up for the week away. Her hands were wandering your body, the two of you still not dressed after your relaxing bath. Wanda’s hands traveled to your ass, scooping you up into her lap to face her, with a little yelp of surprise from you in the process.
“Please,” you whispered as her kisses trailed down your neck, leaving little bites in their wake.
“Please what, baby?” Wanda tortured. Her lips were now trailing down your chest, getting closer and closer to your hardened nipples.
“Please mommy! I need you,” you whined.
“Patience, my sweet girl,” Wanda said, taking one of your nipples in her mouth. She closed her lips around it, gently sucking and nibbling, her tongue soothing over the bites. She took her time on each one, undoubtably able to feel how wet you were as you sat in her lap. You hadn’t noticed that your hips had started moving, in an attempt to get some relief from her teasing.
“Aww my needy baby,” Wanda teased, pulling away. “Tell mommy what you want so badly.”
You blushed, your head falling forward onto her shoulder, all of a sudden feeling very exposed and shy. “I can’t hear you baby,” Wanda said.
You felt her reach out to your nightstand, grabbing your pen so you could take a few more hits. Or so you thought. Wanda lifted your head and you watched as she took a hit from your pen first. And then she grabbed your face, allowing you to shotgun from her, just like your first time, sitting in this exact position, just with more clothes on. The moment brought you back and you were feeling suddenly even more needy. This continued for a few more times and you were most definitely feeling the high now.
“Need you Mommy,” you said, your high letting you be a little more brave. “Need you to touch me.”
“Aw my love, but I am already touching you! Is that all you wanted?”
“N-no! I wantyoutotouchmypussy!” You stammered out. Wanda giggled and figured she’d tortured you enough. She helped you off her lap and down onto the bed, spreading your legs while admiring how messy your pussy had become.
Wanda hesitated no longer and took a long, thick lick over your exposed cunt. “Oh fuck!”
Your hands flew to Wanda’s hair, holding it away from her face as she ate you out. Gentle sucks on your clit had your hips arching, but she pushed you back down. Wanda always made sure to finish her meal. “Doing so well for me baby,” Wanda teased against your pussy. Every time the two of you end up like this, it feels like the very first time. It wasn’t long before her ministrations sent you over the edge, not once but twice.
“Wanda,” you gasped as she climbed up next to you, while she placed her hand flat over your pussy.
“Mine. This will always be mine. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, mommy!”
“Good girl! Now go get cleaned up, I think the pizza is here!”
You had forgotten about the pizza delivery and rushed to the bathroom to use the toilet and grab some clean clothes to put on. Wanda had already grabbed plates and napkins from the kitchen, reheating a few slices in the microwave. You found Wanda setting up a little “picnic” on your bed, a blanket out on top and the plates and pizza on that too. Wanda had turned on the television to the celebrity gossip channel (her favorite).
“You got my favorite!” You exclaimed. You took a big bite of the pepperoni and pineapple topped slice and moaned.
“Careful there, baby,” Wanda teased. You shoved her gently and the two of you sat and ate, listening to Entertainment Tonight as you finished. You leaned back in bed and rubbed your tummy, four slices later, you and Wanda had devoured that pizza.
“My love, I’ve been thinking,” Wanda said. “What if…. What if we didn’t have to do long distance.”
“Wanda, I’m not that good at math but I think three thousand plus miles is a bit of a distance!” You said, looking at her a little crazily.
“Well yes, you are right about that but… hear me out,” she started. “What if…. What if we moved in together?”
“I-,” you stuttered.
“My dad could get me a little apartment! He owes me anyway.. and we could decorate it super cute and history will say we were roommates and-“
“Wanda, wait. And what would I do while you’re in school? I can’t go to Columbia! I didn’t even care to apply to college!” You said, starting to get upset again.
“Baby wait, listen. You could do whatever you want! If you wanted to take classes online, you could. If you wanted to get a job out there, you could, but you wouldn’t have to, or you could be my little stay at home wife and do whatever you want!” Wanda exclaimed. “It’s an entirely different world over there!”
“Can I think about it?” You asked, hating that you didn’t have a single answer right this moment.
“Of course my love,” Wanda reassured. She gave you a smile, and a kiss and you picked up your dinner picnic to throw away the trash. On your walk to the kitchen, you contemplated Wanda’s proposal. It really is a different world there. You’d never been to New York, or the east coast in general. Maybe you’d find a cool job and the thrill of coming back to your own place that you lived in with Wanda made you feel excited. You were thinking about the opportunities you’d have to go to different museums and see Broadway musicals and try tons of New York pizza. But then there was leaving your parents and your sister… They’d understand, right? You and Wanda have been together an entire year now. Not unheard of for a couple to move in together after that.
You hadn’t realized you were standing and staring out the kitchen window when Wanda tapped you lightly on the shoulder. “Those gears are really turning, huh, my love?”
“They are.. I’d really like to talk to my parents first if that’s okay. Not that I need their permission but I’m sure you understand. I hope,” you said, eyes softening as you turned to face your girlfriend.
“Of course baby,” Wanda said, smiling. She placed a kiss on your forehead and grabbed your hand back to go back to bed. “Can I stay the night? Or would you rather I not, so you can talk to your parents tomorrow?”
“Hmm as much as I love sleeping with you, I think it’s best I talk to my parents alone,” you said, hanging your head.
“Hey pretty girl, it’s okay! It’s a big ask, a big step, a big proposition. Whatever the outcome, I love you so much no matter what, okay?” Wanda said softly, pulling you in for a tight hug. “I love you, beautiful.”
“I love you most,” you responded.
——
“This box is so damn heavy, what’s in here, bricks?!” Your older sister asked.
“I should’ve just asked Pietro to help if all you’re going to do is complain!” You cried out. The box was heavy but your sister did help you pack so she should know.
Wanda’s stuff was already packed away neatly in the truck, with some furniture already at the new place across the country, waiting to be unboxed. You both agreed to buy a new bed just so you’d have somewhere to sleep when you visit home. The two of you had picked out the perfect little flat in New York City, and planned on adopting a cat as soon as you’re both settled.
“You ready for this, baby?” Wanda asked, stepping next to you inside the large moving truck.
“Yes and no, I’m nervous, but I’ll go anywhere with you,” you said, taking Wanda’s hand.
“I’ll be there every step of the way. We’ll be together,” Wanda said, pulling you into her side.
Summary: There has been a significant decline in your performance at work after a recent relationship breakdown. This has been scaled up to higher management and Wanda Maximoff, CEO of the company, decides if you deserve punishment.
Warnings: This series is 18+ only! It contains smut. Individual warnings are available on each chapter.
CHAPTERS:
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Do not copy, translate or publish my work as your own.
“One last push, come on, my love! You can do it!” Wanda encourages looking up at you from the end of the bed.
You were dripping in sweat, completely exhausted. You couldn’t do it.
“I-I can’t,” You whimpered
“Yes, you can, princess!” Wanda encourage
Another contraction hit, and you pushed with everything you had left. “That’s it, my love! Keep going! Billy’s almost out!” Wanda smiled, getting ready to grab Billy.
Then you heard crying, you sighed in relief that the pain of labor was over. You threw your head back against your pillow and tried to catch your breath.
You could see Wanda placing Billy into the bassinet next to Tommy’s. She kept her attention towards the boys; you hoped it stayed there just enough for you to figure out how the hell you were going to escape.
Wanda got what she wanted; she has her boys. Now, what would happen to you? Would she kill you? Put you back under her spell?
“You are amazing, princessa! You’ve made me so happy,” Wanda smiled, walking towards you. You tried to get up and run, but you were so weak, you felt like you were run over by a monster truck.
“Y-you got what you wanted, Wanda…P-please…please let me go,” your voice cracked and hoarse. Wanda wiped a bead of sweat off your forehead, “princessa,” she cooed, trying to calm you down.
Your glossy eyes looked up at her. A chill ran down your spine at how fast her eyes darkened. “But I’m not done breeding you yet,” Wanda muttered into your ear. Before you could ask her what she meant, Wanda waved her hand, and you were nine months pregnant again.
You propped yourself on your elbows, gasping for air. Your heart felt like it was running around the Earth. Your eyes adjusting to the dark, you sighed in relief that you hadn’t given birth and were still very much pregnant with…triplets?
Panic ran through you; the bump wasn’t that big before you fell asleep. Did Wanda add another kid while you were asleep? Was she manipulating your dreams as her way of telling you that you’re hers forever?
You turned on the lamp and sighed in relief when it was just the twins stretching. You had to get out of here, but how? Wanda was three steps ahead of you, of course, she was.
Speaking of Wanda, she came bursting into your room with her red orbs glowing in her hands. “You okay, Detka?” Wanda’s voice was full of worry. You squirmed into the headboard, wishing your ankle wasn’t chained to the end of the bed.
Wanda lowered her hands once she realized there was no actual threat.
Wanda sat on the edge of the bed, studying the sheer panic on your face. You flinched a little when Wanda put her hand on your thigh. “Princess…” You looked into Wanda’s soft eyes. “What’s wrong?” Wand asked softly. You stared at Wanda like she had grown three heads. She can read minds! Why is she asking me what’s wrong?
“Just a bad dream,” you mumbled.
Wanda moved closer. “It’s okay, I’m here now, Detka,” Wanda assured, brushing hair off your sweaty forehead.
Wanda helped you into the chair at the kitchen table. “Just relax, Princess. I’ll make your favorite,” Wanda assured you, kissing the top of your head.
How were you supposed to relax when you are held prisoner in a house in the middle of the woods with the person who mind-controlled you into doing whatever she wanted, and now forced you to carry her children?
You silently gasped when you felt the twins begin to move inside you once again. It’s something that happened frequently, but it’s always something you haven’t grown used to yet.
You were on the verge of tears. She could’ve picked anyone to fill that role, so why choose you? What was so special about you?
“Everything is special about you, Detka. Everything. Don’t ever talk badly about yourself,” Wanda muttered, her eyes piercing down at you, making you squirm.
Wanda turned off the stove and walked towards you with your favorite meal on a plate. “Why don’t we go sit on the couch? That chair can’t be good for your back.” Wanda offered you her hand, and you studied the hand, contemplating whether or not you could trust her.
Wanda's nose flared, already deciding for you. The witch gripped your hand and yanked you up. “When will you learn?” Wanda dragged you to the couch, leaving your sandwich at the table. Every time you tried to pull back to grab your food, Wanda would pull you back towards her. Your heart rate spiked, you tried to keep your breath steady.
Wanda delicately placed you down on the couch. Wanda grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at her fiery eyes. “Detka, you belong to me. You are my wife, you bear my children. You.Are.Mine, “ Wanda spat, You mouth grew dry. “Understand?” You tried to nod, but her death grip wouldn’t let you.
”Words.”
“Y-yes ma’am”
“Good girl”
Wanda smiled at her as she used her powers to place your meal onto your lap. You began eating, not caring that it might be laced with poison, because the babies were hungry. “That’s right, eat up.” Wanda smiled, sitting on the other side of the couch and pulling your feet up into her lap.
You watched Wanda carefully, wondering what her plan was…she began to massage your feet. “Just sit back and relax, my love.” Wanda smiled.
Your mind kept going back to your nightmare.
Was that nightmare a warning?
Wanda laughed; it was soft and weirdly comforting. “Not a warning, Detka. A promise”
Wanda's words hung in the air, warm and enveloping, making my cheeks burn even hotter. I could barely meet her eyes, my heart thumping so loud I'm sure she could hear it. “Th-thank you, Wanda” I stammer. After what felt like forever but was probably only seconds, she eased back just enough to look down at me, her hand still cupping my cheek. “I should drive you home again, sweet girl,” she murmurs, her voice low and reassuring. As we turned to leave the room, her hand rests lightly on my lower back, fingers splaying warm through the fabric of my shirt, guiding me with that subtle possessiveness that makes my stomach flutter.
The car ride started easy, the engine humming softly as we pulled away from the church. Wanda glanced over with a smile, her hands steady on the wheel. “Tell me about your classes, Y/N. How's college treating you? Any hobbies keeping you busy outside of studies?”
I fidget with the hem of my baggy shirt, staring out the window at the passing trees. “It's... okay. Only online on Thursdays and Fridays, just three hours each. I go in once a week for about two hours, I have a friend who lives in the dorms but, I don't hang out much, once in a blue moon I guess; I like writing sometimes, or reading quiet books. Nothing exciting.”
She nods, her tone is light but curious. “writing sounds lovely. You must have such a creative side hidden away.” The conversation drifts naturally, her questions pulling me in bit by bit. “What about your dreams, though? What makes you feel truly safe in this big world?”
I hesitated, my fingers twisting in my lap. “I guess... being around people who get me. Which is really only my one friend, my parents... and you..” i trail off before continuing, “college can feel lonely sometimes, like I'm just floating through.”
Wanda's expression softens, and she reaches over with her free hand, brushing my arm lightly. The touch lingers a second longer than before, her fingertips warm against my skin, sending a spark of heat up my arm. “I know that feeling all too well,” she says, her voice turning vulnerable as she steered us down the familiar neighborhood street. “When I was your age—well, a bit younger, really—I was so shy and quiet, much like you. I kept to myself, afraid to speak up in groups or share what was in my heart. But faith... it was my anchor. Praying alone, or with someone who listened without judgment, helped me open up. It made me feel seen, safe enough to bloom.” Her hand brushs my knee this time, resting there briefly before pulling away, the heat from her palm seeping through my jeans, making me hyper-aware of every inch between us.
By the time we pulled into her driveway, my skin tingles from those fleeting contacts, my mind replays the warmth of her touches. I tried to walk over to my yard, but Wanda stops me with a gentle hand on my wrist. “Wait, instead of rushing off, why don't you come over for a simple lunch or tea? We can chat more without the hurry of the sessions—just you and me.” She says in her sweet voice, with a smile that makes me instantly cave in. I nod, my throat tight with nerves and excitement. “I'd like that.”
Then she leads me inside, my heart racing. Wanda looks at me with a bright smile before she leads me to her cozy kitchen. The space is warm and inviting, sunlight streaming through lace curtains onto wooden counters cluttered with fresh herbs and baking trays. She bustles around in a simple apron over her shirt and jeans, the clothes hugging her figure as she moves—slicing homemade lemon bread, arranging cookies on a plate, and pouring me a glass of cool water with a slice of cucumber floating in it.
“Sit, sweet girl,” she says, setting everything on the small table. We eat slowly, the treats sweet and crumbly on my tongue, her presence making the room feel even cozier. As I nibble, her eyes roamed over me appreciatively. “That shirt looks so cute on you. You look so small and adorable in these baggy clothes—they swallow you up.”
I blush, lowering my gaze to look at what im eating to try and calm my heart. “Thanks... it's comfy...”
She reached across, her fingers grazing mine. “You've had a long morning. Let me help you relax with a shoulder rub. Come here.”
I stand up, my back to her as she moves and stands behind me. Her hands settled on my shoulders, warm and firm, thumbs pressing into the knots along my muscles. She kneads slowly, working out the tension with deliberate strokes, her breathing close to my ear—soft exhales that sent shivers down my spine. “Let go, I've got you, sweetheart” she whispers, her voice a soothing murmur, lips brushing my ear.
The sensation built, her touch turning sensual, fingers tracing the line of my neck, easing deeper into the tightness. I sighed involuntarily, leaning back into her. But then, as her hands paused, I let a hint of my inner world slip. “College makes me feel different sometimes. Like I don't quite fit, you know? Lonely, even with people around.”
Wanda's hands stilled, then she moves around to face me, cupping my face in her palms, her thumbs stroking my cheeks with fierce protectiveness. “Oh, my sweet one, you're perfect just as you are. Let me show you how special you are.” Her eyes locked on mine, full of warmth and something deeper, and she leaned in. Her lips brushed mine softly at first, a reassuring press that made my breath catch. When I don't pull away, it deepens—her mouth moving gently against mine, warm and inviting. I melt into it, my hands clutching her waist, feeling the soft give of her body under my fingers. The kiss lasted a good minute, slow and exploratory, her tongue teasing the seam of my lips before retreating, leaving me dizzy.
She pulled back slowly, smiling as she presses her forehead against mine, our breaths mingling. “I've been wanting to kiss you for a while now, Y/N. You have no idea how much. Needing your help was just an excuse to be close to you, and to make sure you really felt the same way.” Her hands stay touchy, one sliding to the nape of my neck, the other tracing my arm. “Would you like to come over and kiss me sometimes? Just us?”
I nod shyly, my voice a whisper. “Y-yes...” I agree knowing I can't pass that up, even if I'm nervous.
Wanda's smile widened, and she peppers soft, gentle kisses across my face—my forehead, cheeks, the corner of my mouth—each one lingering tenderly. Then she nuzzled her nose against mine, her breath warm. “Can you just come over tomorrow? We can skip the prayer session and spend time together before your parents get home.”
I agree, my hands shakily holding her waist now, fingers pressing tentatively into her sides. She cooed softly at the touch, looking deep into my eyes with a sensual yet still motherly gaze. “That's it, my brave girl. I'll teach you everything—show you how to gain more confidence with me. You'll feel so safe.”
She guides me to the living room, sinking onto the couch with a graceful motion. “Come sit on my lap, Y/N.”
I flushed deep red, hesitating. “H-how...?”
With a reassuring smile, she pats her thighs. “Right here, sweet girl—straddle me.” My heart races as I climb on carefully, holding my weight up with my knees on the couch cushions, my hands braced on her shoulders. Wanda's hands find my hips, gripping gently but firmly. “Relax for me,” she says softly, her tone motherly and coaxing. “Sit on my lap, full weight. I've got you.”
I lower slowly, settling against her, feeling the warmth of her thighs beneath me. “Good girl” She murmurs before she looked up into my eyes with a new expression—desire flickering alongside that maternal care, her hands stroking my sides. “You make me want certain things, Y/N. You make me want to do certain things to you, too.”
I blush hard, my voice trembling. “Like what?”
Wanda's gaze softens, her fingers stilling on my hips. “Before I say more, I need to know it's okay, that you want this too. If you say no, I'll respect it completely and step back—we can set boundaries right here. And please, all I ask is that you don't tell anyone about this, about us. It's our secret.”
I swallow hard, my heart pounding, but nod, consenting with a shy whisper. “Yes...”
Older Woman!Wanda Maximoff x college student!Fem! reader
In which: you get stood up and Wanda comes to your rescue
The restaurant was dim and quietly buzzing with people. Meanwhile you were on your second basket of bread and trying to convince yourself more than the waitress that your date was coming. He was some guy in your psych class with a football scholarship and a boatload of jock friends. You were starting to feel stupid for saying yes.
Minutes after you came to the conclusion he wasn’t coming, you noticed a pair of eyes on you. They belonged to one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen. She was eyeing you like you were dinner on her plate. You tried not to make eye contact because that would be flat out awkward.
“Waiting for a date?” She called out after a moment. You looked up, surprised she was talking to you from so far away.
You looked around ashamedly before saying, “He stood me up.” The woman pouted a little.
“I’m sorry. How about you come join me?” Your eyes got buck in surprise. She chuckled. “No, really, it’s fine. Unless you want to keep conversing from here.”
You shook your head. “No. I’ll come.” You clumsily got your purse and crossed over to her table, sitting down across from her. “Hi.” You breathed out. She smiled behind her glass of wine before taking a sip.
“Hello, dear. What’s your name?” The woman asked, eyeing you unashamedly. You were a bit shy under her gaze. You told her your name. “That’s a beautiful name. I’m Wanda.” She draped her hand across the table, you shook it, taking into account how warm and moisturized her hand was.
“Great to meet you. And thank you! For letting me join you. I was ready to hit the road after the third basket of bread.” Wanda cooed sympathetically.
“Oh you poor girl. Order something. My treat.” She slid her menu to you, you opened your mouth, ready to say it was fine, but she stuck her hand up. “Order what you want. Please.” She insisted.
“Okay, if you say so, Wanda.” You tested out her name on your lips.
You and Wanda ordered your meals, and began to talk as you waited. “So what college do you attend?”
“Uh NYU. It’s a pretty okay school. We get bad reps though.” You chuckled as you thought of all the false stereotypes people said about your peers. Wanda couldn’t help but laugh herself.
“Yes, I’ve heard you befriend sewer rats and cartwheel around the subway.” Now that made you laugh harder.
“I’ve done the second one before, but I was drunk, in my defense!” You admitted, taking another sip of your wine.
During and after your meal, you and Wanda talked so much, by the time you looked up, the restaurant was about to close. She paid and you were ready to part until she asked.
“I know we’re total strangers, but would you maybe want to come back to my place? It’s just two blocks away.” And your answer was even crazier.
“Yes.” I mean what could go wrong? You could fight just fine and you had pepper spray on you.
Going outside, you notice a black car already parked outside waiting. “Oh, you called an uber?” You asked, getting into the car. Wanda chuckled and shook her head.
“This is my personal driver, dear.” It was so cold outside the warm air took you by surprise. You raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, wow. Well uh, what do you do for work?” You couldn’t help but ask. You noticed her hand was on top of yours— when did that happen?
“Family business. Pays very well.” You nodded. That was vague, but she didn’t owe you that. In no time, you were rolling up to a very gorgeous apartment building. “I have the penthouse.”
“Must pay very well, then.” You chuckled. Her driver let you two out and the doorman got the door for you. She led you to the elevator. While it was going up, you decided to pry a bit more. “Are you like the head of the company?”
She nodded, her eyes flitting everywhere but your eyes. She had no shame and you were trying to ignore it. “Yes. I’m the head. I took over after my father’s death.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” The elevator opened to the huge, gorgeous pent house. Your eyes went wide as you ushered yourself inside and as did Wanda.
“Don’t be sorry, just look at how old I am. My father had a full life. But enough about me,” she sat beside you on her brown couch. “Tell me about you? What’s your major at NYU?” She placed her hand on your thigh, you could feel heat creeping up your neck.
“Uhm.. business. It’s always interested me.” You told her with a nod. She kept a smile on her beautiful face as she subtly slid closer to you.
“Well, then. You’d be a great intern for me. Then again, a beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be working.” You chuckled, she was outright flirting with you. Maybe you should flirt back.
“Oh so that’s why you were staring at me. I thought I had something on my shirt.” Wanda laughed a little harder.
“You’re a bold one, hm? Can you dance?” You quirked an eyebrow.
“I can dance, why?” She stood up, walking over to a record player and pulling one of the records off a shelf that had many records on it. Watching her, you realized how risky you were— this could easily be the beginning of some crime documentary that Netflix takes on for a money grab. Then again, Wanda seems pretty sweet. Like a sugar mommy almost…
“Come dance with me, darling.” She stood in the space between her couch and kitchen with her hand outstretched. You got up and walked towards her, placing your hands on her waist awkwardly as she did the same but more confident. You two fell into a slow sway. “You truly are beautiful.” She admired. You smiled sheepishly.
“You are too.” You said shyly.
“I’m honestly grateful your date ditched. I would’ve been coming home alone if he hadn’t.” Wanda admitted.
“You probably would’ve still caught my eye.” You said honestly. Wanda smirked. “Seriously! You’re really pretty and really good at smooth talking. I sort of want your number.” You were getting bolder by the second thanks to that second glass of wine.
“I think I’ll be giving it to you. But what would you do with my number?” She asked, her hands trailing a little lower than what’s appropriate.
“I’d call you. Get to know you a little better I guess.” You shrugged. She hummed.
“So you think we could become something more?” You could feel your face heating up.
“Uhm.. maybe. I’d be stupid not to try.” She giggled.
“Well, then. I’m looking forward to your efforts, sweetheart.” She moved a piece of hair out of your face. You got so awkward, you just hid in the crook of her neck.
Author’s Note: Lila and Jen in this, are the kind of characters that are not good, but not evil either, so keep that in mind when reading.
Prologue of The Stones Will Remember
The stones will remember Spotify playlist
Halloween Dinner Party - Part Two
It took some time for you to breathe again.
Everyone had already sat at the table, food dished up, the smell of rosemary and thyme coating the air—you saw the food, your eyes widened with hunger, creamy chicken pasta for most people, but Fauna had something different, it was salmon, new potaoes with rosemary, thyme and garlic, with broccoli stems.
That was your favourite meal, one Wanda made you countless times. It was a meal that felt like home.
Then you saw the three empty chairs all beside each other, directly opposite Agatha, Rio and Betsy.
Shit.
Right in the middle too
On the side of Agatha and Rio, there also sat Peggy, and Angie—on the other side, where the empty chairs sat, Pepper positioned herself happily next to Fauna, and on the other side of the empty seats, was Lila and Jen.
It was warm.
Your face was flushed.
The chatter was loud.
But right now, loud was okay. You could deal with loud.
“Sweetheart?” Wanda’s fingers gently twisted in yours “sit in the middle of us okay? I’ll plate up your food.” A breath. “Now, do you want a drink?” Her soft voice was the calm after the storm, the smell of grass after rain, and after what he said, what his words meant—Wanda’s touch was the very thing that grounded you.
You nodded in response, “Appletiser.” Your tired eyes looked up quickly “if it’s no trouble, of course.” Your words tumbled out from between your lips like that of a loosely coiled spring.
Wanda pressed one hand to your lower back, pushing, her other hand tightly in yours—pushing you gently forward.
When Wanda’s fingers left your hand, you could feel the air curl around them, there was an emptiness you hadn’t expected. It felt like a yearning for her touch, for her breath, for her. It wasn’t just a want anymore. It was a need.
Yet you still couldn’t fully admit the truth to yourself.
You were in love with both Wanda and Nat.
You stepped forward, pulse thumping against your throat, fairy wings still intact, seating yourself down on a particularly unusual comfy kitchen chair, one that was made of oak, flat, not lumpy like the old ones they had.
Your gaze stayed in the kitchen, watching Wanda and Nat move together like a poem from the 18th Century.
Beautiful, Unique, and never a step out of time.
Nat poured your drink, the bubbles drifting through the liquid, afraid that if you looked up, she’d catch the longing written all over your face. Your eyes lingered on her hand—beautiful, soft—you wanted them wrapped around you like a soft blanket that would always keep you safe. She was watching you, nd you weren’t sure if she had always been looking or if she’d only just begun, but the smile on her lips, the kindess in her face made the heat flush right your cheeks—in front of everyone.
Was it actually warm in this room? Or was it just from the attention of two very specific and attractive women?
Natasha walked over, now with three drinks in hand, your appletiser, the only person at the table not drinking alcohol and for the first time in your life, not one person questioned it, or tried to force you to drink something you didn’t want to.
It was a weird feeling.
Of safety.
Contentment.
And family.
The people that you chose and who have chosen you.
She also carried two glasses of wine, one for herself, one for Wanda.
Natasha set them down carefully on the table, the clicking of the glass echoing against the wood sliding your glass towards you, the other two in front of the free place settings, but her eyes never left yours for a a single second—it was almost intense. That feeling you still couldn’t admit to yourself, not fully. This was more than friendship, more than care and more than just new friends.
You knew the truth—in reality, this was love. You were just too fearful to admit the fact of the situation and your feelings, especially whilst you were still with Christopher.
The was a whole other complication—one of which you did not know how you’d find your way out of this side of the century.
Your brain was spinning, until Nat’s hand covered yours on the table “Breathe, your safe detka.” She had noticed your chest moving faster, and your eyes glazed over, zoning out from the speed of your racing thoughts—her ouch, her voice, her scent bought you back to reality.
Detka? You frowned at the word.
But some how you did exactly what she said, you let out a small breath which you could tell made her happy with the smile that stretched into her cheeks. Nat stood back up, turning herself towards the kitchen to collect her own plate on the side.
Wanda began walking towards the table, two plates in her hand one, balanced like a professional waitress on her wrist and between her finger and thumb. On one, was salmon, which you assumed was for yourself, the other was the chicken pasta. Wanda placed the salmon in front of you, the smell of lemon and garlic wafting up your nostrils and you swore you were about to have a foodgasm right there and then.
Wanda set her own plate down on her place setting followed closely by Nat doing the same with her own food.
The two of them slid into their seats on either side of you. A gentle grin forming on both of their faces, the flush in your cheeks brightning up the whole room.
Like rudolph’s nose.
“Eat, Ladybug, can’t have you evaporating on us, now can we?” Wanda pressed your fork into your hand, your fingers gripped the cold metal, turning your knuckles white and Wanda’s thumb stroked over your fingers.
It was a reminder for you to relax.
To breathe.
That you were safe.
Wanda could always see how nervous you were, your face red—burning, your fingers holding tight to the edge of the table or your own knee, which was usually bouncing to a rhythm faster than could be played.
Tonight was no different.
You always struggled eating in front of others, but somehow here, with them on either side of you—for the first time, you weren’t actually fearful…you weren’t even really thinking about it.
The salmon melted on your tongue, as you took your first bite, the beautiful taste of the lemon and dill combined with the garlic was perfect. This was a five star restaurant delicacy. Nothing was ver powering, or weirdly textured. Every ingredient balanced the other out flawlessly.
The best thing of all though, no one watched you as you ate, they all focussed on their own food, drinks and conversation. You sighed happily, in heaven as you looked around at these people you barely knew, but whom made you feel more at home than your own fault ever had—finally you relaxed into the evening at hand.
“So,” Rio began, looking towards Wanda—but the playful smile crossing her lips was directed at you “Agatha tells me you have set of books coming into the shop?”
“Mmmm, that’s right, we had a request for them a few months ago, and I figured I would get more on the topic anyway. I do teach the subject after all.” Wanda twirled her pasta around her fork with such precision, and perfection, before slipping the fork between her wet lips.
You were almost at the end of your salmon, when your ears perked up at the sound of conversation about books.
You had a love for books, to fall into a world that you could escape to, to make friends with those characters, it gave you such an exhilaration of excitement, you truly could not put words on how safe books made you feel.
How they always gave you a longing for something you didn’t know you wanted or needed, until your eyes graced words on the pages of the books.
“What books?” you ask shly, cheeks blanching as you found yourself asking the question in the middle of the already going on conversation.
Wanda heard you as clear as the blue sky on a hot summers day. She turned to you, slipping her hand on to your knee causing a quiet squeak to escape from the back of your throat, attempting to swallowed down your embarassment.
Did anyone hear that mouse like squeak?
You knew the chances of both Wanda and Nat having heard were certain, they never missed a single thing when it came to you—and you were pretty sure Agatha, Rio and possibly Betsy heard the noise as well.
Fuck.
Shit.
Jesus H Roosevelt Christ.
This was not your day.
If only the ground would swallow you whole right about now, if only a black fucking hole would open up in the middle of the dinning table, and pull you right in, then you’d never have to think about the embarrassing squeak ever again.
“Well, sweetheart, did you ever hear about the witches of Orkney?” a soft half smile graced Wanda’s lips, pausing before taking a large bite of her pasta.
You nodded, eyes wide, listening closely, intrigued, needing to know every intricate detail of this conversation.
Four months ago you had requested book on a very specific woman from the Orkney Islands, a woman who was executed as a witch in Scotland. Your own ancestor. The book it self was based on very real events but there was also a lot of folklore tied into it. That was of intrigue to you, seeing them both overlap in the book—you’d requested it from the Scarlet Witch cafe, from Agatha herself, so you were a bit confused, actually a lot confused as to why Rio was asking Wanda about it.
It made zero sense.
Your eyes lingered on Rio, as she took conversation with your—with Wanda, eyebrows furrowing with you attempting to make sense of it—
“OH MY GOD!” You squealed making everyone jump out of their skin as the realisation hit you like a freight train in the night.
Everyone was now staring at you. All eyes watching the shy squeaky girl sitting between the most intimidating women you knew.
Luckily you didn’t seem to notice their eyes on you, because all you could focus on was Wanda, and the shocker of a fact that she was the woman you had spoken about with Agatha. “YOU OWN THE SCARLET WITCH CAFÉ?!” You voice came out in a high pitched ring.
Wanda chuckled behind her wine, holding the glass against her lips, her fingers still on your knee and she squeezed gently. Nat on the other hand was very much being entertained by this discussion and your excitement, like she was watching a rom-com.
“Ah, so the secret is out, my sweet curious Bug.” The corners of wanda’s lips curved upwards, like this was the best thing she had witnessed all damn week.
“You didn’t know?” Betsy perked up, her eyes shinning with intrest.
Although who wouldn’t be at least a little bit curious at you finding out what seemed to be the biggest piece of information going this side of Atlantic.
You began blushing furiously, cheeks burning hot—flushing red, matching the color of Nats wine. Your hands shot up coving your face, trying to hide the utter shambles you were causing yourself and your embarrassment for not knowing the truth until now. You mumbled through your fingers “you could have told me!”
Wanda licked her lips a little, tracing her tongue along the wetness, tilting her head in your direction “but then I’d have missed this utterly adorable reaction, my little darling.”
God how were you even going to survive this night. Not when you had Wanda talking to you like you were her favourite person in the entire world, subtly teasing you for how adorable both she and Nat found you—your heart clung to them both like a raft to water—you honestly don’t know how you lived a single day without them in your life.
But you did.
That was survival.
This was living.
You found happiness, an emotion, a feeling, you’d never really experienced in the entirety of you life, yet here you were sat between them both and your stomach was in a continuous stretch of somersaults in the pit of your stomach when either them so much as breathed in your direction.
Nats hand slipped onto your other knee, your breath caught like a fire in the back of your throat as her fingers pressed in gently, warmth flooding through every part of your body.
You swore to whatever god, goddess or fucking diety that was listening, if anything else like this happened tonight, you would combust into glitter. You were barely holding it together as it was, and now they both had their hands on your knees, whilst your face was close to the colour of a red hot chilli pepper.
You could feel the continuing flush in your cheeks, spiking hot, travelling down to your neck as you finished of the last of the salmon, followed by a gulp of your appletiser in an attempt to distract yourself from the two hands wrapped around both your knees. Your pulse heavy in your throat, your grip tight around the fork.
Breathe.
Just fucking breathe Y/N.
Everyone around the table had subtle smirks painted on their lips, despite most of them going back to individual conversations—all except Pepper, Agatha, Rio and Betsy who all had their eyes on you.
That did not help how flustered you were right now and how much worse it was going to become if they kept staring at you like this—like this was a show and you were the main attraction.
Wanda leaned towards you. Her own cheeks pink from the alcohol now in her system, her breath warm against the side of your cheek as her finger traced gently over the edge of your ear, eliciting a soft giggle from your throat. “breathe for me darling, don't want to face plant the potatoes.”
Nat couldn’t help the chortle that escaped her mouth and nose at the same time, spluttering on her drink, but quickly swallowing down the liquid. “My god,” she said breathlessly “leave the poor girl alone Wands, you’ll break her.” Nat snickered, trying to hold a full laugh down as she twirled another piece of pasta around her fork—which in comparison to Wanda who was eating like the Queen of England, shovelled it in her mouth like she’d not eaten all week.
The feeling in your very soul was that of need, of desperation, of desire—even when you pretended otherwise—that this was what everyone felt for the friends sisters.
God.
Even you knew trying to convince yourself of that was completely diabolical.
It was an ache that you had for them both, the kind that say in your ribs, never letting you breathe, to allow air into your lungs. But feeling like this for both of them? Was that even a possibility? Could it really happen?
No.
Bug stop it.
You’re delusional if you think a single thing could happen, or if you thought they even felt the tiniest bit the same for you as you did for them.
Besides, they were married—to each other, where would you even fit in?
You couldn’t let your brain go there—couldn’t, wouldn't, shouldn’t. Especially not whilst you were still in a realationship. Okay, so may Christopher was utterly horrific and a fucking man child, but he still…wanted you.
That had to be enough for now.
So you spoke to Wanda about the book shop, finding out about why she started it in the first place considering she’s already a university lecturer. You asked her and Nat about thee joint class they host at the University. The most popular class there is, which in it self intrigued you.
Speaking also to Fauna and Betsy, with them both being the only ones your age in this particular circle, unlike your usual struggles of getting to know people your own age, they were easy to talk to. Kind, and interested in you as you were in them.
For the first time ever, there was no worries or anxiety.
It was exactly how it should be.
You could breathe and enjoy your time with other people—special people that made your heart sing.
Angie was about to make her leave but before she did, she bought over the pudding. Your eyes widened at what was placed in the middle of the table. Apple and Rhubarb crumble with oat cream. One of your absoloute favourites, and Wanda and Nat had—
“You…you remembered?” Your heart stopped, gaze flickering to Wanda, lump in your throat as you tried not let your stupid fucking emotions cascade you like a storm out at sea.
Wanda laughed, “of course sweet girl,” her fingers came up to your cheek “little lady bug, we meant it, nothing is too much for us, not when it comes to you.”
God.
It was as if the air had been swept right out from under you, gasping for your final breath in the middle of a desert, crawling to the last drop of water, especially in that whisper-soft voice that made your knees buckle.
Thank fuck you were already seated.
Was she trying to make you flutter into an actual fairy mess?
Because it was working.
You were a puddle, a fairy puddle.
“Here,” Nat slid a napkin towards you “don’t cry into the crumble detka, we know you don't like soggy food.”
You shook your head, laughing in the back of your throat picking up your spoon and digging in to your food.
Taking a small breath again as you ate, and then Rio began to ask you about your degree, and then a question came from Betsy that made the whole room freeze.
It was like watching a dear in headlights when the words fell from between her lips and landed with a thud on the table in front of her.
Then everyone laughed.
You weren’t sure which was more confusing.
“So…Y/N, dom or sub?” Betsy asked as she shovelled her food into her mouth, as if it was going out of fashion.
You really didn't see a problem with the question, but that was because you didn’t completely understand it.
Your face puzzled, slipping the spoon between your lips, trying to understand the question at hand.
You felt Wanda’s hand on your knee freeze, her thumb had been tracing small circles until Betsy spoke—and the way Nat looked towards you with a devilish smirk, she was genuinely curious, inquisitive, like she wasn’t sure what your answer would be, but she certainly was intrigued—like she was collecting data for how they would proceed with you.
“I- I’m not a fan of subway, so dominos I guess, I’m even fussy with my pizza to be honest, so—” you stopped when you saw the smirks, and sniggers around the table, and your heart began to beat in the pit of your stomach from the sheer panic that you’d said something utterly stupid.
Utterly wrong.
Utterly…pathetic and idiotic.
Betsy laughed.
Rio and Agatha smirked.
Nat ran her fingers across your knuckles, in a slow, gentle motion, that made every nerve in your body light up like electricity sparking.
Wanda just smiled softly, gazing at you as if you had hung the moon and the stars themselves, as was Nat, it was a little unnerving…not uncomfortable, just, you felt a shift in how they were around you from all previous times you’d spent with them. Something had changed heavily between you and the two of them. It was stronger, like the connection was growing, like flowers that bloom in spring.
“DOMINOS! SHE SAID DOMINIOS!” Betsy wheezed, hitting her palm on the table, making the cutlery clatter from the sudden thump “next she’ll say BDSM stands for Burgers, Dips, Snacks and Milkshakes.”
Fuck.
You felt so dumb, especially as that is probably what you would have said if she’d of asked you. But now you were wondering what BDSM really did stand for.
Maybe something to ask Wanda and Nat later, if it wasn’t answered in this conversation.
You saw Nat give Rio a look, like a nod that something wasn’t quite as okay as she would like it to be, but you weren’t entirely sure. Your heart was still exploding—sitting between your two favorite people who you wouldn’t admit that they cared for you as more than a friend.
You couldn’t see it.
You were oblivious, especially when something was staring you blank point in the face.
“BURGERS! AND! AND! MILKSHAKES!” Betsy couldn’t breathe from laughing so hard, and then—she hit her first on the table from laughing so hard making the table shake much harder than before—which made you unexpectedly flinch.
Rio moved quickly. Her fingers suddenly around Betsy’s jaw, forcing eye contact, not caring who was watching as long as she had her full, undivided attention “Sweetheart. That. Is. Enough.” Her fingers pressed in just a little, waiting until Betsy nodded before removing her fingers from the girls face “good girl.”
Your brows furrowed watching the scene unfold.
What on earth had you just witnessed? And why was your answer so comedic to her?
“Nat?” You whisper, leaning closer towards her body, your lips at the side of her head and your hand cupping her ear “what’s a domme?”
Nat spluttered, choking on her wine, gulping for air before staring daggers in Betsy’s direction. Like what the fuck was she playing at? Now they had to have this conversation with you, and so much sooner than she and Wanda could have ever expected.
“Later sweet girl, later.” Nats voice, soft, calm, and steady as she began to clear the table, collecting the dishes and turning the conversation to Peggy Carter and Fauna. “Peggy? You and Fauna staying?”
“But—” you tried, but Wanda’s fingers squeezed around your knee, and you immediately stopped trying to get them to explain, you would honestly do anything she told you to in the moment. “we’ll talk to you about it later bug, I promise.”
You were finally led away from table, taken in hand by Rio through to the living room. Her fingers gently clasping your palm, whilst Wanda and Nat cleared the table and tidied up th kitchen.
Usually they would have waited till after everyone had gone, but you were sure they were going to take this time to discuss you and some of the conversations that had happened and would need to happen.
You followed Rio, not wanting to leave Wanda and Nat, but with some insistance, with Wanda telling you they’d be quick, and to trust Rio, you allowed yourself to be taken you away by the woman with face paint, that made her look like death—well a skeleton.
You sat yourself on the soft couch next to her and Lila Calderu—an older woman, a bit cooky but otherwise harmless, palms sweating from the nerves of sitting with new people without Wanda or Nat beside you—it was unnerving and a little anxiety inducing.
But something just felt—off. You couldn’t really put your finger on it.
They were kind.
You were naive.
That was the problem in most spaces for you—this was no different.
And you couldn't never really understand the difference between when someone genuinely wanted to be your friend and when they were being manipulative assholes. You never had been able to see the truth of that in people.
“Well, well, well, so you’re the famous Bug we’ve heard so much about?” Lila smiled, on the surface it was innocent enough, but something felt like it lay behind her eyes that you couldn’t see. She tucked a loose strand of your hair behind you ear.
Was she just being friendly? Perhaps? Or maybe she had an agenda that you weren’t quite sure of.
Ontheotherhand, maybe you were just over reacting, through your own personal history, people hadn’t shown you honesty when it came to their intentions. At this point, you were just used to expecting the worst.
“It’s Y/N if you don’t mind.” You didn’t really feel comfortable with strangers calling you Bug. It had become something that only Wanda and Nat had taken to calling you. But still telling other people they couldn’t? That was scary. Putting in boundaries? Even scarier.
Your voice cracked as you said the words. You weren’t exactly sure where you got the nerve, but no way were you going to let someone you hadn’t even had a conversation with yet, call you ladybug—not until you knew her better and knew she wasn’t going to be trouble. You automatically shifted closer to Rio , she felt the nearest safe person right now.
“Oh? Do I not get the privilege of that name? and for such a pretty little thing like you?” she shifted closer.
“Yeah, well, I don’t know you.” You muttered “no offence, just I know Wanda, Nat, Agatha, Rio and I have gotten to know Betsy, but…look it’s nothing against you, it’s just, I’m not comfortable with you yet,” you paused taking a awkward sip of your drink, eyes darting towards the kitchen hoping Wanda and Nat wouldn’t be much longer, because you were certain that you would crumble before they appeared.
“hmm, maybe not, but,” Lila touched the fabric of your sweater pulling at the sleeve “pretty, sweet little thing aren’t you,” Lila chuckled—then from across the room, you noticed Jen, the way her lips curved upwards into a mischievous smile that made you uneasy, her dark red nails matching that of her wine and lips.
“So adorably innocent.” Jen quirked an eyebrow, taking another sip of her wine, and now, something told you that Wanda and Nat didn’t just dislike them for being late, maybe it was something more than what you could see or understand.
“Lila. Stop. This isn’t the time or place for your games.” Unlike the Rio that had spoken to your warmly, her voice came through like a crack in the glass.
“It’s just a bit of fun, what’s the big deal. She’s not even theirs.” Lila growled. Leaning back against the sofa in a huff.
None of you heard the heels that walked in from the kitchen.
Sharp, deliberate, echoing across wood.
You stiffened, eyes shut, trying to pretend this wasn’t happening.
Lila’s hand came up to your cheek, your body went still as she pinched your cheek “no harm in it, is there sweetie pie?”
Suddenly, you smelt the vanilla that was Wanda’s perfume, her hand snapped around Lila’s wrist in such determined hatred—something you had never seen from her before. “Hands. Off.” Wanda’s fingers squeezed tighter around her wrist “You do not fucking touch without consent. You know that, this has always been the rule, and you’re in mine and Nat’s home, and she,” Wanda kept her eyes locked on Lila “is off limits.”
The air in the room began to crackle from her anger, her possessiveness, her protectiveness over you.
“Wands…” Nats voice came through with an echo, concern for her wife as Wanda did not move. Her green eyes crackling with fury “WANDA!” Nat finally snapped, pulling Wanda away with her words.
“Lila. Time to go. And you Jen.” Nat stood in the corner, arms folded, tea towel draped over her shoulder, watching with careful eyes.
You were their priority. Your comfort. Your safety. The was the most important thing right now.
“Oh don't be a spoiled sport—” Jen tried to lighten the mood but it fell on deaf ears.
Silence.
You were sat practically on top of Rio at this point, Wanda stood full body in front of you in a protective stance.
Nat scowled at Jen, daring her to say another word or for Lila to do or say something else—you weren’t sure if she’d done it intentionally or not.
But right now that didn’t matter.
Not to you.
Not to Rio.
And certainly not to Wanda and Nat.
“She’s drunk. You both are. Now go home.”
Agatha found herself on her feet “it’s okay, I’ve got it. I’ll take these two idiots home.” She leaned in, kissing Rio gently on the lips and grabbed her goat. “Come on dumb and dumber. My car. Now.”
Lila and Jen were both dragged out the house like misbehaving school children, growling about how it was just a joke and people shouldn’t take it so seriously and Agatha snapping as the door closed “will you two shut up and get in the damn car.”
Once you all heard the door shut with a click, you found yourself letting out a breath you hadn’t even realised you were holding tight in your lungs.
Wanda turned to you, unclenching both her jaw and fists.
Slowly her lungs expanded, she bent her knees, crouching down in front of you, one hand sliding on top of your bouncing knee, the other hand gently slipping under your chin and pulling your gaze towards her. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I should have asked them to leave when they first arrived, they, we, they always push too far, and I’m sorry. You did so good. Myself and Nat are so fucking proud of you."
“We really are.” Nat agreed, stepping closer to the two of you “We’re so very proud of you ladybug!” Her cat bell still jingling like a cat about to make her entrance.
“I,” the words were on the tip of her your tongue, squirming and ready to tumble out, but being held back back by a rope to your lungs
The sweat on your skin, covered both your hands and behind your knees, your stomach was continuously pulling, twisting into knots like you were dangling of the verge of the cliff with the rope on its last thread about to snap, “I’ve never seen you angry before. That was…fire.” And you meant it.
There was a rage bubbling like lava beneath Wanda.
Her feelings towards Lila and Jen.
Her eyes glowing green with a kind of magic you had not seen before, you were certain that she would destroy the world before anyone even looked at you or touched you like that again.
The way Wanda had reacted, grabbing Lila’s wrist so firmly, it wasn’t something that had scared you, quite the opposite. It had intrigued you as to why, or how she could be so protective over… you.
You weren't special. You were just you.
Wanda couldn’t help but laugh, her hands cupping your warm cheeks “Of course my fire burns for you sweetheart, you are a very special girl.”
And your breath caught, the moment she said it.
Was there really more to her feelings than you had ever realised?
Did Nat feel the same?
The beat of your heart was pulsing in your ears. Things were coming together, linking, words being said, and you beginning to understand what they really meant. But still, you weren’t ready to acknowledge or take it on board, not fully, not yet.
But very, very soon.
Wanda nodded, her thumb stroking your cheek before taking your glass to refill it.
Nat followed needing to talk to her wife about what had just happened, out of ear shot of you.
“Wanda?” Nat gripped Wanda’s elbow as she poured the new bottle of appletiser “what was that?”
“What?” Wanda grit her teeth, knuckles whitening around the glass.
“Detka.” Nat turned her wife to face her as soon as she’d finished pouring the bubbly liquid, her fingers wrapping over her wifes wrists, and throwing the tea towel to the side “Not only did you almost take Lila’s wrist out it’s socket, but you almost,” Nat checked over her shoulder to ensure the door was still shut and know one, especially you, could not hear what she was about to say. In a hushed toned, Nat continued “you almost, your magic Wanda, you almost lost control of it.”
“I know Nat!” Wanda snapped, slamming the class down of the table, her voice trembling, realising, knowing how much she came close to loosing control of her magic, for the first time in years.
A knock sounded, interrupting their conversation and Rio’s head poked round “Sorry to interrupt.”
“You’re fine.” Wanda said, masking her frustration “everything okay?”
“Y/N has fallen asleep, she’s curled up on the couch, and we weren’t sure if we should wake her up.”
“No, don’t wake her.” Nat smiled, “but you and the rest get off now, we’ve got out bug.”
Nat hadn’t even realised she’d said it.
Rio quirked an eyebrow in her direction, before nodding and leaving.
“Our bug, huh?” Wanda grinned, like they were both finally admitting the truth about how they felt for you.
You were fast asleep on the couch, wings still on, cardigan removed and on the floor. Your head on the pillows that Rio had put there to ensure you didn’t get a creak in your neck.
Wanda and Nat came back through, eyes falling on you the second the stepped into the living room. Wanda pressed her hand to her chest, clutching her invisible pearls.
“Nat…” Wanda said just under her breath so as to not to wake you from your sleeping slumber. She knelt down at the side of the couch near your head, and Nat followed in unison.
“She’s sucking her thumb.” Nat whispered.
“God she’s adorable.”
“She’s too precious.”
The two of them continued to watch, seeing you so peaceful did something to her—if you thought she was protective before, you had seen nothing yet.
Wanda ran her fingers across your cheek, whilst Nat pressed her hand against your calf, her thumb gently stroking, and Wanda moved her fingers from your cheek, to slowly tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Let’s get her up to bed.” Nat stood, pressing a hand onto Wanda’s shoulder, “the bed in her room is all made up anyway.”
warnings: 18+, stripper!reader (23), rich business lady! wanda (32), lap dance, yearning, praising, smut, cunnilingus, dirty talk, mommy kink, fluff, humping. minors DNI.
words: 3.3k
a/n: happy weekend to everyone! I had so much fun with this chapter :). enjoy <3 if you haven’t already, read the first three chapters linked above - xo saph.
slow erotic music continued to play from the speaker, and with a side-to-side shake of your hips, your ass bounces, pulling a groan from wanda as she watches you move in front of her. in the mirror you face, you see her watch you like a hawk; her eyes trained on you, hypnotised and enchanted by the swell of your ass, and the smooth movement of your hips.
you knew you were good at what you do, despite brushing off agatha’s compliments of “this one… she’s the best of the best.” but the way wanda’s eyes burn into you was something you’d never seen before. the woman was enamoured by your talent of dancing, and like you were the only person to exist right now.
she was respectful in all the right ways, yet still eye-fucked you regardless. you relished it; you really enjoyed the attention coming from the redhead.
It made you feel good.
you turn around to face the older woman, “so, miss maximoff,” you husk out, and as she looks up at you, she smiles a surprisingly sheepish grin at the name. the effect makes a smirk twitch at the corner of your lips, and you lean downwards slightly, your bra-clad breasts sitting close to her face. “what will i be drinking with my meal?”
wanda’s silent for a moment, her eyes focused on your cleavage. you linger for a moment, letting her appreciate the sight before moving your torso higher until your stomach faces her, and you let your body roll fluidly to the music.
“wine.” wanda replies lowly as she continues to stare.
“hmhm,” you hum agreeingly. “what kind?” it was certainly entertaining to see her mind struggle to focus.
“white, and there is lemonade to top it up with… if you’d like.”
“an attentive mommy, i see,” you purr in response, your left hand resting on her shoulder.
you felt a tingling sensation beneath the confines of your underwear when wanda moaned softly, and her hands that still rested on the edge of the seat gripped harshly, the faux leather stretching at her fingertips.
“such a good girl,” the redhead husks out, her hot breath hitting the skin of your stomach as you continue to move. “so talented.”
a spike of heat rises to your already flushed cheeks, and before you could utter a reply, the timer on your phone sounds in the booth, cutting your music off. you immediately raise your head, your motions coming to a stop as you reach to turn off the timer.
once you did, you paused the music that tried to continue after its interruption and leaned down to face wanda, “worth the extra time?” you asked, though from wandas heaving chest and parted lips, you knew your answer already.
“absolutely, i can’t believe that was only ten minutes.” the redhead uttered.
the words made you smile proudly. “time certainly flies when you are having fun.” you quipped.
you took a step back, your heels digging into the carpet below as you created space between you, even as you resented the loss of her warm body close to you. you bent at the hips and lowered your head until your lips were against the shell of wanda’s left ear, “i’ll see you shortly,” you whispered before leaving a soft, brief kiss on her cheek.
wanda’s eyelids faltered, closing momentarily at the action. she looked captivated by you, and when hooded eyes gazed up at you, the yearning for the woman to take you to her home again amplified.
“see you shortly, darling.” the older woman responded, her grip on the seat loosening as she shifted in the seat and rose from it, her hands now moving to smooth out the lengthy skirt that she looked oh so gorgeous in.
with a grin, you head out of the booth, through to the main floor, and into the changing room to get dressed and cash out. your mind was filled with nothing but wanda, and for once in your time working here, you didn’t focus on how much you had earned.
ᗢ
the sound of chardonnay glugged as wanda poured single portions into two large wine glasses. “this,” she spoke, now clipping a silver bottle stopper on the neck of the bottle. “will pair very nicely with dinner.”
god you really were being wined and dined by the woman, and as you sat in your seat at a prepared table in her open living room, you watched her intently, your hands slightly clammy at the desire for her that settled deep in your stomach.
“where did you learn all of this?” you asked with a breathy laugh. from the smell radiating from her kitchen to the knowledge she spewed about cooking, you were certainly impressed. “if you don’t mind me asking.”
wanda smiled at you and then, with the bottle in hand, she strode over to her seat, residing there. “my mother,” she spoke, her gaze focusing on the bottle as she placed it on the table. “despite my father running the business, i can say she taught me everything i know.”
it didn’t take a scientist to read from wanda’s low tone that this was a sore subject for her. but you wouldn’t prod, so instead you shifted in your seat, crossing your jean-clad legs before responding. “mothers and their teachings… though mine didn’t show me how to dance.”
wanda’s neural face raised to look at yours, her lips widening in a smile as she laughed. “i should hope not,” she snorted softly, and the sound made you grin and your stomach to leap. “that’s just all you, darling. born to be a dancer.”
“flattery will get you everywhere,” you blushed, along with a spike of nervousness that you weren’t used to feeling. “so,” you started, holding her gaze, “does the miss maximoff have moves of her own?”
wanda raised her eyebrows and thought for a moment, “i’m not the smooth dancer you are, but i would have a few tricks up my sleeve if i were in your industry.”
your curiosity piqued at that, and not only did the thought of wanda wearing lingerie make your head spin, but the thought of her doing anything like swaying her hips, bending over, or grinding on your lap made your clit throb against the tightness of your pants.
you hummed in delight, “i bet you would,” you mused. “you’re the type to excel at anything.”
“oh?” wanda shoots you a surprised look, “you seem very certain about that.”
you were absolutely certain. the redhead oozed power and ability, and with it, you imagine she commands attention wherever she goes.
the thought almost made you shiver. her demeanour was overwhelmingly sexy, and god if it wasn’t for the smell of the delicious food she had spent time making for you, you’d be on your knees and ridding her of the skirt she wore.
“i am.” you replied simply, your mind straying as you held eye contact with the woman opposite you. “now about this meal,” you say, trying to will your filthy thoughts away and focus on the matter at hand. “should i do anything to help?”
wanda grinned at the question and rose from her seat. “no,” she replied with a shake of her head, thick ginger hair swaying as she did. “you just stay there and look pretty.”
ᗢ
after you had both finished eating, you and wanda spoke over the rest of the chardonnay, and with the time that passed, you felt the wine spread a gentle flush of heat throughout your body as you grew tipsy.
“i’m curious,” wanda voices after a brief moment of silence. “lady harkness, as she calls herself, is she your… how do i put this?”
“if the word you’re trying not to say is pimp,” you reply with a laugh before taking another sip from your glass. “then no, agatha is not. she’s more like… the mother of the house.”
wanda quirks an eyebrow at that. “so there’s nothing,” she gestures with a hand, “sexual?”
“oh god no,” you say as you place your glass on the table, “agatha has many rules in the club. two being, dancers don’t fraternise with the guests, and she doesn’t fraternise with the dancers.”
the redhead hummed, her gaze faltering to her lap briefly, and when you regained eye contact with her, you knew what she was thinking.
“what would she say if she found out you were here right now?” wanda asked, her voice unexpectedly timid. a tone you hadn’t heard since the first day you met her. nervous, restricted, and doubtful to ask for a dance.
you thought for a moment. considering the longevity of your relationship with agatha, you weren’t entirely certain. “i guess one of two things: i won’t be able to work there anymore, or she’ll just scold me, say this is asinine, and...”
“and?” wanda murmured, her eyebrows furrowed.
“forbid it.”
“mother of the house, indeed,” wanda retorted as she stood from her chair, and to your surprise, walked over to you, her heels clicking against the floor as she took those few steps.
you eye the woman as she stands before you, and then, with a bend of her hips, she sits sideways on your lap, her arms resting loosely on your shoulders. before you knew it, your right hand instinctively snaked around her back to land on her hip, and your other hand rested on her outer thigh.
wow. is all you can think of. she was a sight to see, regardless, but having her in your lap like this made your hands flex against the expensive material of her skirt. she looked divine, and you needed to voice it. “you are heartachingly beautiful, you know?”
the pale skin of wanda’s cheeks flushed a shade of pink, and she bashfully turned away, hiding what you knew was a beaming smile. when she turned to face you again, wanda remained poised, even if her blushing complexion gave it away. “you’re such a sweet girl, y/n.”
you raised the hand that rested on her outer thigh and placed it against the warmth of her cheek, and your head moved forward slightly.
her breath ghosted your lips; the smell of citrus hit your senses, and with that, you couldn’t hold it back anymore.
wanda hummed when you kissed her, and your hand moved from her hip to the small of her back. you felt her hands shift on your shoulders to thread through your hair, and your heart rate spiked as she deepened the kiss.
you moaned into her mouth when her tongue swirled against yours. the sensation was something that had been on your mind since you’d both parted to work, and as you hungrily kissed each other, your mind reeled; the club’s policy and agatha’s potential fury at this situation washing away, and all that remained was the woman on your lap.
when wanda pulled away, you panted for needed breath. and watching as she did the same, you focused on her swollen, kissed lips that shone with your saliva. “come with me,” she breathed out, her thighs flexing against yours as she stood up.
one of your hands fell to rest by your side, and your other was grasped by one of wanda’s. you instantly rose from your seat and let yourself be led by her as she walked you both to her bedroom.
upon entering the dark space, wanda closed her door after you. the click of it made you face her, and as she turned to you again, you almost staggered slightly as she surged forward and reconnected your lips, her arms linking around your head and back to your hair. this time, she grasped softly at your strands, and you moaned at the desperation as she pressed herself flush against your body and deepened the kiss again. wanda was hungry for you, and it made your stomach do backflips.
“the bed,” she panted out between kisses.
you slowly shuffled backwards, not wanting her lips to leave yours, and blindly aimed for her bed. your hands moved to wanda’s hips, and at the sense of her shape, you grasped at her curvature, then snaked your hands to the swell of her ass.
another grasp made wanda moan, and as the blissful sound filled your ears, you felt wanda’s bed hit the back of your knees.
wanda pulled away, “lie down, baby,” she reached for the bedside lamp close to her, and after flicking it on, the dim light radiated as far as it could in the room, and you were greeted with wanda gazing at you, a smile on her face as she breathed heavily.
standing upright, wanda began to unbutton her cinched blazer, and it didn’t take long before she revealed a black bra. she draped the piece of clothing to her right, letting it gently rest on the floor, and when you moved to lie down, your elbows propping you up, wanda’s hands moved to her skirt.
the zipper of it sounded in the room, and when she pulled it over her hips, she let it fall into a pool around her heels, and full, pale thighs were now on display.
you bit your lip softly at the sight before you, “mommy…” you purred, and the word pulled her attention from the item around her.
“fuck,” wanda uttered with a groan, and as she stepped out of the ring of her skirt, she moved towards you, her knees dipping into the mattress as she shifted to straddle your waist.
“keep the heels on, please.” you beg, remembering how she liked manners. “you look so hot like that.”
wanda smiled and hands threaded through her hair and away from her face as she began a slow grind on your lap. your mouth fell open at the feeling, and your hands moved to her hips again, gripping the soft flesh in your palms. you guided her against your jeans, and although you wished you were rid of them, wanda panted at the friction. “that feels good, y/n.”
you continued to listen and watch in awe as wanda humped and grinded against you, and you felt an ache between your thighs and wetness coating your underwear. “you’re so sexy, mommy. shit…” you gasp, her pace increasing as well as her volume in moans.
you let your head hit the mattress as you raised your hands to her breasts, your hands palming them once through her bra before unclasping it and letting it fall from her shoulders and arms and into your hands.
tossing it to your left, your hands returned to her now bare chest. you hummed at the feeling, and when wanda’s hard nipples pressed against your palm, you bit your lip and let your index fingers and thumbs pinch them. the redhead moaned and continued to hump and chase the friction that was teetering her closer and closer, “fuck, y/n..” her eyes bore into you, and as you pinched and twisted her nipples more, her knees tightened around your hips. “i’m gonna-”
your jaw slackened as your heart pounded loudly in your ears, watching in awe as wanda began to twitch above you. “cum for me mommy,” you coaxed, and with another hard pinch to her nipples, wanda began to rut against you, mouth agape with her hands flying down to your shoulders, pressing you into the mattress.
you gazed at the sight of her cumming, feeling nothing but desire and a strong sensation of pride at the way in which she did. on your lap. desperately grinding against you. hungry for your touch.
“wow,” wanda gasped out, her chest heaving against your hands as her eyes briefly fluttered closed. “that was…”
“the hottest thing i have witnessed in a long time,” you finish her sentence for her, completely enamoured by the sight before you. your thumbs graze softly over her hard nipples before moving to rest your hands on her thighs.
“i’ll say,” wanda huffed out, and with an attempt to shift her weight, you feel her thighs vibrate and twitch. “but i think the view between your legs will be even better.”
“oh please, mommy,” you whine, your eyebrows furrowing as you bite your bottom lip. the thought of it was too exciting, and you felt overwhelmingly turned on. you ached, throbbed and lay trapped in the mess you had made in your underwear. “i want your tongue on me.”
without speaking further, wanda shuffled down your body, ignoring the wet patch she had left on your jeans, and moved to unbutton them and rid you of the confines. from the edge of the bed, her eyes raked over your legs as you re-situated yourself, them now bent at the knees.
“you look so good spread out for me, baby,” wanda husked out, positioning herself on propped elbows between your legs, “so good.”
one of her hands raised the hem of your shirt, and her mouth immediately went to the skin of your stomach. she left open-mouthed kisses on the space she created, her tongue swirling in a way that caused your eyes to roll backwards. you relished in the sensation as she worked her way down your stomach until she reached your underwear.
two fingers suddenly touched your aching cunt over the fabric of your underwear, and you gasped, your back arching slightly. “mommy…”
you almost spoke and begged her not to tease you, but wanda fortunatley beat you to the punch, because then you felt those two fingers push your underwear to the side, and her hot breath hit your bare pussy.
“you are so wet, y/n,” wanda mused, staring in amazement whilst she slid two fingers between your folds, feeling the wetness coat her fingertips, “such a good girl for me.”
wanda replaced her two slender fingers with her warm tongue, and you gasped at the sensation. the redhead hummed at the taste of you, and her hands moved to grip your waist, her tongue swirling up and down from your pulsing hole to your clit that throbbed just as hard. “you are so good at that mommy.” you praise.
wanda moans into you, the sound of it vibrating against your clit, and déjà vu flashes in your mind as your hands grip her silk sheets.
your hips tried to grind against her mouth as you felt that familiar knot forming low in your stomach, but the older woman held you in place and continued to lap and suck at your clit.
“just like that.” you gasp out, your right hand moving from the sheets to ginger locks, and your nails scratch lightly against her scalp. “just like that.”
wanda listened to your chant, and her tongue’s pace against your swollen clit stayed the same, eager to make you cum as hard as she did.
the build-up of tension from the lap dance to now had you closer than you could have anticipated, and as she continued her talented work, you felt your walls contract around nothing, and your toes curled.
“I’m-” your eyebrows furrowed, and your mouth hung open as you choked out a moan, “mommy!” your body tensed as your orgasm crashed into you, and the inside of your thighs began to squeeze wanda’s shoulders. she held you down as you convulsed, her tongue still busy on your clit, focusing on your pants and moans.
when your body came down from the high, and all that remained was a buzz of pure bliss, your body relaxed in her hold, and the redhead’s tongue grew lazy against you, then ceasing before you became overstimulated.
“you are-” you gasp out, a hand falling to your forehead, the back of it greeted with sweat that coated your hairline. “that mouth of yours…” you prop yourself up on shaky elbows and gaze down at wanda, and with ginger ruffled hair and your cum glazing her lips, you groan at the sight. “so, so good.”
wanda giggled, placing wet kisses on the inside of your thighs, “that was amazing, y/n,” she hums against the skin. “will you be staying over again?”
gazing back at green eyes, you smile widely, feeling your stomach flutter at the question. “without a doubt.”
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Balletinstructor!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
♪ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You attend a highly favored ballet school in New York, and are your instructor's star dancer. Little did you know she had differing intentions than previously imagined.
♪ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Innocence corruption, sexual tension, cunnilingus, naive reader, Wanda needs that, competence kink, sizeable age gap ( W is 38, R is 19), Dom = W, Sub = R, and yea
♪ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k
You frantically dig in every nook and cranny of your pink gym bag for your phone as you near the grand, slightly run-down entrance of the studio; you cannot be late again.
"Aha! Thank god," you exhale, a small victory. You think to check the time, 12:13 pm, great. Miss Maximoff won’t be here for another fifteen minutes; you can stretch some more.
It’s pretty cloudy today, and it's probably going to rain soon. You hum as you shove your phone into your back pocket, then push open the double doors of The Scarlet Ballet School. You were just as surprised as everyone else that you got in, more so even. Not many of your relatives are supportive of your passion for the art of ballet. Wanting you to pursue something more sustainable, more real. But you didn’t let them stop you.
Only the dancers with the most credibility got in, but you... were an exception. You're here on a scholarship. Screw up? And it's back to square one.
You’ve been at this studio for a few months and in New York for a little less than a year, and it’s treated you well, especially your new ballet instructor. Wanda Maximoff. Wanda… has a more hands-on approach. So to speak.
The inside of the studio has the sort of charm that you only see in movies. Never did you think you'd make it a reality. The front desk is manned by Billy, the scrawny, awkward teen with smudged eyeliner, every day. He types away at whatever as he sips his Monster.
"You know drinking those every day will give you heart murmurs, right?" You smirk as you approach the desk, propping your arms on it.
Billy doesn't spare you a glance; he rolls his eyes, though. "That? Is a myth."
"Fuck around and find out, I guess." You shrug, which gets a small smile out of the teen. "Has Yelena come in yet?" You ask, lightly drumming your fingertips on the desk.
Billy nods, finally meeting your eyes, "Mhm, like five minutes ago. She said she'd meet you after she's done in Miss Romanoff's room."
You hum, "Alright, thanks, Billy!" you say as you begin to walk away.
"Cute skirt!" He calls after you, and you smile brightly over your shoulder.
--
"Are we still on for lunch tomorrow?" Yelena Inquires, stretching her leg on the barre, putting her short blond hair in a small ponytail. "Since you cancelled last week." She mentions with a pointed look.
You huff before you get a sip of water from your bottle. "Yes, Lena, we're still on for lunch tomorrow." You playfully roll your eyes and smile easily, though it falters somewhat. Your brows knit together in concern. "Shouldn't... shouldn't, Miss Maximoff be here by now?" You glance at the entrance to the ballet room.
Yelena follows your gaze before meeting yours again, shrugging lightly. "Little graces," she snorts, getting off the barre to stretch her back now, adjusting her navy leotard straps.
You sigh. You're sorely aware of the fact that no one here likes the older woman. You can practically feel the dread suffocate the room when she comes in on bad days. Sure, she's abrasive sometimes, too strict, and can be mean. However, for whatever reason, you never got to experience that side of her. She differs from you. Patient, a sweet-talker, and lenient. You have no clue as to why. The other girls in your room hate you for it, too. Whispering amongst themselves and giving you sideways glances.
Suddenly, the doors to the room swing open as Wanda struts in like she owns the place. Confidence exudes from her every step, not the in-your-face kind of self-assurance, but the quiet kind. One that shows just how comfortable she is being who she is. Her black pencil skirt is just shy of the knee, and her blood red satin button-up is perfectly tucked into it, with a few tantalizing buttons left unbuttoned. The sound of her heels reverberates on the vinyl floor.
Click.
Clack.
Click.
Clack.
Your heart skips a beat at the sound. Your hands subconsciously smooth over your fitted black tank top and small pink skirt.
"Speak of the devil, and she will appear," Yelena mutters beside you, her stretching halting. You subtly nudge her.
Everyone in the room waits with bated breath for Miss Maximoff to speak; conversations die mid-sentence, and a few girls suddenly become very interested in their stretches. Someone near the mirrors straightens so fast she nearly loses her balance.
Wanda regards everyone with a pointed look, assessing, before they land on you. Something in her gaze shifts, something… dark, it makes you blink and falter. "Good afternoon." She says briefly, getting her keys to her office out of her purse. "Since everyone seems fascinated by the time of my arrival," she says coolly, removing a pair of reading glasses from her blouse pocket, "perhaps someone would like to explain why we're standing around instead of warming up."
Like clockwork, everyone who stopped stretching to show some sort of respect for Miss Maximoff, scatter to continue stretching; it's almost comical.
__
Some time has passed, and Yelena is practicing her ballons on the opposite side of the room. The other girls are working on whatever movements Miss Maximoff has drilled them to perform. You stand alone, near the barre, in first position, your legs burn from the effort you put into them today, in fear of disappointing your instructor. You take a minute to breathe. Suddenly, you feel warm hands glide gracefully to support your sides, and you straighten almost instantly, ignoring how every inch of you screams to settle into the touch.
The scent of her, vanilla and something faintly smoky, like incense, hits you before she even speaks.
Wanda’s hands are firm but gentle, warm from the studio lights above. Her fingertips press just slightly into your ribs through the thin fabric of your tank. No one else gets this close to her during class - not unless they’re being corrected harshly or praised quietly.
You don’t turn around right away.
Instead, you feel her lean in, her breath a whisper against your ear, and then that low voice wraps around you like velvet, “Breathe deeper than that, detka.”
Ugh, that pet name makes your gut coil.
Her lips brush the shell of your ear for half a second before she pulls back slightly to adjust how she’s holding you, but you miss the barely there touch. Your pulse spikes so hard it feels audible in the quiet.
“Now rise.”
Wanda’s hands don’t just rectify you; they linger.
When you rise, her palms slide up your sides like she’s memorizing the curve of your waist, thumb brushing the dip just above your hip. She doesn’t let go when you’re fully upright. No, she keeps one hand there, warm and possessive at your back, while the other lifts to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
Too intimate for an instructor during class… everyone knows it. No one dares say anything, though. Not with Wanda Maximoff standing two inches away from you, her favorite student. You don't mean it with sovereignty; it's simply a fact.
“You look tired.”
You blink out of your reverie, stammering. "I-I… yeah. I am, I was up too late practicing for the past two days." You explain sheepishly.
The brunette's presence shifts to one of concern and disapproval. She raises a brow and sighs lowly. Her grip on your sides tighten imperceivley, sending a cold shiver down your spine. "Now, why did you think that was a good idea?"
Your lip catches between your teeth, and your green eyes follow the motion. "I don't want to be behind, I'm here on a scholarship… I need to be ahead." You elaborate determinedly.
Wanda pouts, "I see how hard you work, honey. I'm proud of you, but burning out won't help anyone." She pulls back slightly, her hand still on your left hip, and slowly glides up your back, to your shoulder, stopping just shy of your neck, her thumb barely caressing your collarbone. "You don't need to prove yourself to me." Miss Maximoff whispers in the most intoxicating tone you've ever heard, and your lips part.
You don't know what comes over you; maybe it was the stress, or the weight of expectation, or perhaps the lack of real sleep.
Your eyes well up with tears.
Your instructor notices almost immediately, and her taller form comes a step closer before you, her hand now fully holding the back of your neck, her thumb gently rubbing your cheek. Her brows furrow, grabbing your jaw lightly when you try to avoid eye contact. "Hey, hey, look at me when I'm talking."
You fight and fail miserably to stop the stray tear that falls, you sniffle, then meet Wanda's eyes, hesitating some.
Wanda smiles. "Good girl. You wanna come to my office, sweetheart? We can talk about it," she coos.
The way Wanda spoke to you makes you feel small, dumb, and incapable of handling this on your own. The words catch in your throat. You nod.
Wanda shakes her head, "Nuh uh, use your words."
You take a shuddering breath, scared the dam will break. "I do. Want t-to talk about it." You wipe another tear.
Wanda hums approvingly, standing straighter; she almost looks relieved. "Smart girl." She praises, her hand falling from your neck to your lower back, leading you to her office. You don't want to look and see everyone staring in the ballet room, but you do catch Lena's questioning gaze, her head tilted, she mouths, 'Where the hell are you going?', throwing her arms up slightly.
You wince, 'I'll be back', you mouth in reply.
—
The office is small but cozy, cluttered with ballet books, framed photos of Wanda’s friends, you assume, a few potted plants that look like they’re barely surviving, and the ever-present scent of her vanilla-sandalwood perfume.
Without asking permission, she sits right beside you on the plush velvet couch, the kind made for crying students or exhausted instructors who just need five minutes alone. Close enough that your knees touch, and hands you your tea.
You mutter a thank you before taking a sip.
Wanda watches you sip the tea, the sliver of green remaining in her eyes tracking the way your lips press to the rim of that scarlet mug, how your fingers curl around it for warmth.
“Is it good?” she asks softly. Her voice is honeyed, no sharp edges like during class. You nod slightly, and she smiles, a small, private little thing meant only for you.
Then, without hesitation, she lifts her free hand and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear again. Her fingertips linger there - a featherlight brush along your temple before sliding down to cup your jaw gently.
“Look at me,” she commands gently.
Your eyes meet hers, your breath catches at how the older woman stares openly at you. Hungry, sympathetic, and restrained. All demonstrated by her flushed cheeks, parted wet lips, and furrowed brow. You set your mug down on the old coffee table, praying that your tremors aren't visible.
"I know... what can make you feel better, honey."
A beat passes, which feels like an eternity as the gears in your head shift. "What?" You gulp.
She licks her pink lips, "You're gonna have to trust me, think you can do that for me?" She asks hopefully.
You nod frantically.
"Say it."
You subconsciously squeeze your thighs together, failing to quell the ache. "I trust you."
Her hand finds your thigh, fingers pressing into your thigh. “Do you?"
"I-I really do..."
"Good girl."
Your eyes widen, chest constricting as she rises from the couch and sinks slowly to her knees before you on the faded Persian rug. The shift of her weight, the quiet rustle of her black pencil skirt, it feels obscene.
Her warm hands slip under your skirt slowly, stopping on your mid-thigh. You’re sure Wanda can feel the heat radiating from your pussy.
“You do so much. Being my star student, dorogoy. It must be exhausting,” she pouts, gently kneading your inner thighs, coaxing you to spread them wider. The older woman smirks.
“I wanna make you feel better.” She continues.
Your not even fully aware you're holding your breath; you’ve never actually gotten eaten out before. Sure, in high school, a girl fingered you in the bathroom once, but other than that, nothing. You really hope Wanda can’t tell.
“P-please…” The whine that follows your plea surprises even you.
Wanda seems to excite from the noise, her cheeks flushing once more, blinking repeatedly.
Her expression softens, deepens. She realizes that you're the type to whimper, to whine. To beg. She swallows hard, her mind racing with new, dirtier thoughts. "Please what, honey?"
You stammer, “D-do something!”
She laughs, a breathy, delighted sound that vibrates in your abdomen. Without warning, she taps your thigh, signaling for you to lift enough for her to peel off your damp, cotton panties. They stick to your glistening folds, embarrassingly so.
Never mind to Wanda, it seems, she leans in and licks a slow stride from your hole to your throbbing clit.
You cry out, back arching off the couch cushions. "Oh fuck!"
"Like that?" She inquires coyly.
She dives back in before you can even process that she spoke, her tongue circles your clit gently but firmly.
One hand grips your hip possessively, holding you still as she licks into you again, and again. She settles between your spread thighs, face buried against your pussy, tongue working lazy circles around your clit. Her other hand moves to cover your mouth, muffling the whimpers and cries that spill past your lips.
Your hips move without your permission, seeking more pressure, more contact. She groans against your pussy, the vibration making you see stars. She pulls back briefly to speak against your core. "Quiet, honey... God, you taste so good..."
She goes back to eating you out like she's starving for your taste, her tongue never stopping its gentle circles around your clit. Your whines are getting louder despite her hand covering your mouth, and she knows you're close when your hips start rolling harder against her face.
The tip of her tongue curls, deliberately tracing the letters W-A-N-D-A across your throbbing clit and sensitive folds. It’s possessive and obscene, branding you from the inside out. Your back arches violently, a muffled sob tearing from your throat behind her hand as she writes the final 'A' with agonizing precision.
A full-body shudder wracks through you when she finishes spelling her name. Her name is written in saliva across your pussy. Her mouth stays glued to you, sucking softly on your clit.
Your hands grip Wanda’s hair tightly, and you whimper constantly against her hand. You accidentally tug on your instructor's hair in the midst of your pleasure.
A deep, throaty moan reverberates against your core as she feels your fists tighten in her hair. The sound sends vibrations directly to your clit, making you gasp louder against her palm. She actually smiles against your pussy, loving how desperate and noisy you're getting.
Her mouth is sealed over your clit when your orgasm hits, the intense suction sending you hurtling over the edge. You convulse against her face, fingers yanking hard on her hair as a silent scream tears through you. She drinks you down greedily, swallowing every drop of your release.
Wanda licks your heat a few times before her head rises, her hand falling from your mouth. Her lips glisten with your come; she licks them slowly, "Good girl," she praises. “You did so well for me, sweetheart.” Miss Maximoff pants while wiping her chin, then moving her chestnut hair from her face.
You reel from your orgasm, your vision still swimming some. “T-thank you…” You cannot believe you actually-
You've had a bad day. Wanda knows exactly what you need, and she knows exactly how to give it.
Soft Mommy!Wanda x Fem Reader
content: mommy kink, guided self touching, oral (reader recieving), plenty of forehead kisses (like I'm not kidding there's a lot of those and more nose boops), the author is desperate for this treatment and I fear it's very clear
18+, NSFW oneshot | 5k words
ao3
The tea had been the first thing.
You'd been carrying your mug from the kitchen to the couch, still half-asleep, when your sock caught on the edge of the rug and the mug tipped, a wave of hot tea landing across the front of your shirt. Just hot enough to sting, hot enough to soak through immediately and ruin the shirt you'd been planning to wear, which meant going back to change, which meant being late, which meant the low-grade spiral of a morning that had decided to go wrong before it properly started.
You cleaned it up. You changed. You left on time, barely.
The toe had been at the end of the shower. A stubbed little toe against the door frame—the momentary blinding pain of it, disproportionate to the injury, the kind that makes your eyes water whether you want them to or not. You stood there on one foot for a full minute saying nothing. You also realized, reaching for your shampoo, that you'd used the last of it. The good one. The one that took three different stores to find and that you'd been rationing carefully for two weeks.
You used conditioner instead. You tried very hard not to think about it.
The mirror had been next.
You weren't sure what it was, exactly. The clothes just hadn't looked right. Nothing you could name—just the feeling of looking at yourself and finding the reflection slightly wrong, slightly off from what you wanted, and standing there longer than you should have trying different combinations that all produced the same unsatisfying result. You settled on something eventually. You went about your day. But the feeling stayed. Low and persistent, a hum beneath everything else that nothing managed to drown out.
Wanda knew the moment you walked through the door.
She always knew. It wasn't only magic—it was years of knowing you, the way she read your face. She looked up from the kitchen counter and her expression shifted into something quiet and attentive, and she said come here without asking a single question. She held you in the kitchen without making it into anything. Just held you and rubbed slow circles on your back.
"Bad day," she said. Not a question.
"Stupid bad day. Just…nothing went right."
"Those are the worst ones," she said, pressing her lips to the top of your head.
It helped for a while. Wanda had made dinner—something warm and good, something she'd clearly started before you'd even gotten home, which meant she'd been planning to take care of you before you'd walked through the door—and you sat together at the table and talked about nothing important and the hum quieted somewhat. Not gone. Just quieted.
Until you got up to get the parmesan from the counter.
The plate caught on the edge of the placemat when you pushed your chair back. You didn't realize it until you were already standing, until the shift of the table sent it sliding, and you turned around just in time to watch it go. It hit the floor and broke cleanly in two and the food went with it—the dinner Wanda had made, the warm careful dinner she'd spent time and effort on—and you stood there and looked at it.
You didn't move for a moment.
Then your eyes filled.
You weren't crying about the plate. You knew you weren't crying about the plate. You were crying about the tea and the toe and the shampoo and the mirror and the plate, all of it at once, the whole accumulated weight of a day that had just kept going. Your face crumpled and the tears came and you couldn't stop them.
"Hey—" Wanda was beside you immediately. Just there, the way she was always just there. Her hands came to your face, cupping your jaw, tilting your head up gently. "Hey. Look at me, baby."
You looked at her, your vision blurry.
"It's just a plate," she said softly.
"I know." You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth. "I know it's just a plate, I just—the whole day—everything just kept—and I'm so stupid, I'm so—"
"Stop." Wanda's voice shifted. Firm, in the specific way it got firm when she meant something completely, not harsh or cold. Her thumbs moved under your eyes, catching the tears. "You do not get to say that."
"I'm just—"
"No." She tilted your face up a little more. "Look at me. You are not stupid. You had a hard day, and you are allowed to cry about it." Her eyes were steady and warm and entirely serious. "But you are not going to stand in my kitchen and say things about yourself that are not true. Do you understand me?"
You swallowed. Her eyes narrowed ever slightly.
"Do you. Understand me. Baby?"
"Yes," you said, your voice small. The fight went out of you all at once at that word, in that voice, with those eyes on your face.
"Good." Wanda pressed her lips to your forehead and held them there. "Good girl." She pulled back and looked at your face—reading you, the way she'd been reading you for years. Something moved through her expression. "What do you need right now?"
You didn't have to think for long.
"I want to stop thinking," you said. "I want you to—I want to just—" You stopped. You didn't quite have the words.
You didn't need the words. Wanda had been reading you long enough.
"Okay," she said softly. Her thumbs moved over your cheekbones one more time. "Okay, my love. Come here."
She left the plate on the floor. She took your hand and walked you down the hall, and the gentleness of it—the simple gentleness of being led by someone who knew exactly where they were going—made your eyes fill again. You blinked it back.
She sat you on the edge of the bed.
Standing in front of you, she looked at your face for a moment. Just looked, the way she did when she was deciding something. Then she reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.
"You've been carrying today by yourself," she said. "You don't have to do that anymore." Her hand came to rest against your cheek, warm and still. "Mommy's got you now. Okay?"
The word settled in your chest like something coming to rest after a long time in motion.
"Okay," you said.
Wanda smiled. Small and certain. Then she leaned in and pressed her nose gently to yours—just that, just a quiet little press—and pulled back with that smile still on her face.
"Lie back for me."
You lay back on the bed and Wanda sat beside you, close enough that her warmth was there, her hand resting lightly at your hip. She didn't rush. She didn't do anything at all for a moment. She just sat with you in the quiet of the room and let the stillness settle.
"You don't have to think right now," she said softly. "That is not your job. Your job is just to feel what I tell you to feel." She looked at your face. "Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, Mommy."
The words came out naturally. They always did, here—in this space, under Wanda's attention. It wasn't performed. It was just the truth of where you were and what you needed, and Wanda had always met you there without making you explain it.
"Good girl." She pressed her lips to your temple and held them there. "So good."
Her hands moved to the hem of your shirt. Gentle, asking with the slowness of it, and you lifted your arms and let her draw it over your head. Your jeans went next—she unzipped them and you lifted your hips and they went—and then your bra, unclasped with easy practiced fingers. You were lying in just your underwear and Wanda was looking at you with dark, warm eyes.
"Beautiful," she said simply. The way you stated something that went without saying.
You looked away. Old reflex—the mirror this morning, the reflection that hadn't sat right.
"Hey." Her fingers caught your chin and turned your face back, gently but without question. "I said beautiful. That means you look at me when I say it." Her thumb moved along your jaw. "Don't look away from me."
"Sorry, Mommy."
"Don't be sorry." Her thumb kept moving, slow and warm. "Just let me tell you true things." She looked at your face, your throat, the length of you. "You are so beautiful. You were beautiful this morning in that mirror even when you couldn't see it." Her hand moved to your collarbone, tracing the line of it slowly. "I see you every single day. Every day I think—" She shook her head slightly, like the thought was larger than a sentence. "You are so loved. Do you know that?"
Your eyes were filling again. Differently this time.
"Yes," you managed.
"Good." She pressed her lips to your forehead—soft, long, certain. Then she pulled back just slightly and touched her nose to yours again, just a brief and private thing.
"Good girl," she said quietly. "Now. Put your hand on your stomach for me."
When you did, she smiled.
"Good. Just rest it there." Her own hand covered yours—warm, heavy, grounding. "Feel that? Just breathe."
You felt your own stomach rise and fall under your joined hands.
"There she is," Wanda murmured. "That's it." She held your hands there for a long moment. "Now slide your hand down. Slowly. Just like I'm guiding you."
She moved your joined hands slowly—deliberately—down from your stomach, over the waistband of your underwear. Your pulse picked up.
"There you go," she said. "Good girl. You're doing so well already." Her fingers guided yours to the outside of your underwear. "Just feel that for a moment."
You could feel the warmth of yourself through the thin cotton, exhaling a slow breath.
"Good." Her thumb moved over your knuckles, a steady and unhurried rhythm. "Feel that warmth?" You nodded. "That's you. That's your body." She pressed your joined hands gently. "Touch yourself over the fabric. Just soft. Just to feel."
You moved your fingers—tentatively, following the pressure she guided you toward—and the sensation made your breath catch.
"There you go." Her voice had gone lower. "That's so good. Feel how good that is?" She pressed her lips to your temple. "Your body wants to feel good. Let it." Her hand guided yours in a slow circle. "Just like that. Keep going."
You kept going. The sensation built slowly, layering. Wanda's hand warm and present over yours.
"You're doing so well," she murmured. "I'm so proud of you." She pressed her lips to your cheekbone, then your jaw. "Look at you." Her thumb moved over your knuckles as your fingers worked. "Can you feel how warm you're getting?"
You could. The cotton was warm and damp, the sensation spreading. You made a small sound you hadn't planned on.
"I know," Wanda said warmly. "I know, baby." Her hand guided yours slightly. "Move your fingers up a little. Find where it feels best."
You moved your fingers up, finding your clit through the fabric and pressing there, your hips lifting without you deciding to move them.
"There," Wanda breathed, like she'd been waiting for exactly that. "Right there. You found it." She kept her hand guiding, the pressure of it adding to yours. "Good girl. Slow circles. Just like that."
You did. Slow circles, your fingers working through the thin cotton, Wanda's hand warm over yours, directing.
"Your body knows what it needs," she said softly. Her free hand moved up your side, tracing the curve of your waist, your ribs. "It's been trying to tell you all day. You just couldn't hear it." Her palm spread warm across your ribs. "I'm going to help you hear it."
She pressed slightly harder and your hips lifted again.
"Good girl." Her lips found your temple. "Let your hips move. Don't hold them still." Her hand guided yours in a slightly wider circle. "You're so responsive. Watching you feel good—" A pause. "It's one of my favorite things in the world. Did you know that?"
A sound came out of you that wasn't quite a word.
"Eyes closed," she said, warm. "Stay in it. Just feel."
You breathed out slowly again, your eyes slipping shut.
She guided your fingers over the wet fabric, varying the pressure with small deliberate shifts, occasionally covering your hand completely and taking over for a few strokes before returning it to you. Teaching you the pace she wanted, the weight of it. Her free hand moved over your body the whole time—your ribs, the soft underside of your breast, the curve of your hip, the skin of your inner thigh. Touching you everywhere with the same unhurried warmth, making sure you felt held even here, even in this.
"Tell me how it feels," she said softly.
"G-good," you managed. "Really good, Mommy."
"Yeah?" The word was warm. Her hand guided yours in a slightly tighter circle. "Tell me more."
"Warm," you said. Your voice came out unsteady. "It feels…tingly and—I can't—"
"You don't have to find the words." Her lips pressed to your temple. "Just feel it. I've got you."
Her hand kept guiding yours. Slow, steady, and completely present, like she had nowhere else in the world to be. She pressed a kiss to your cheek. Your jaw. The soft skin below your ear.
"Your body is so pretty," she murmured against your skin. "Every part of you. I think about it all the time—how pretty you are, how lucky I am." Her hand guided yours to press a little harder and you made a sound that surprised you. "There you are," she said, warm and pleased. "That's it."
"Lift for me," she said softly, after a while.
You lifted. Your underwear went. Cool air for one moment and then she guided your hand back and your fingers found yourself directly and the difference was immediate. You gasped.
"I know," she said. "Stay with me." Her hand guided yours. "Feel how soft you are. How warm. How wet."
She guided two of your fingers lower, sliding them through the slick that had accumulated. It felt sticky and warm under your fingertips, and it made a sound as brushed through your folds again under Wanda's guidance. She carefully pushed your fingers back down and pressed them gently inside of you for a moment, and you arched at the stretch of it—the slight burn that told her that wasn't on the table—before she guided you back up to your clit. Back to slow circles, her hand warm and certain over yours.
"Beautiful," she said. The word landed somewhere it needed to be. "You are so beautiful here. Every single part of you." Her free hand stroked slowly along your inner thigh. "I love being right here with you." A kiss pressed to the corner of your jaw. "I love watching you feel good."
She worked you slowly—her hand guiding yours, the pressure building by degrees—and the praise kept coming. Steady and specifically meant, every word of it.
"Such a good girl," she murmured. "Taking such good care of yourself for me." Her thumb moved over your knuckles. "Does that feel good?"
You hummed, something she knew to be a "yes". Your hips were rolling up to meet your fingers as you rubbed up and down on your clit now, your other hand fisted in the sheets beneath you. Wanda smiled, her free hand moving to cover that clenched hand, smoothing your fingers out so they wouldn't get sore.
"Good." A kiss to your temple. "Keep going. You're doing perfectly."
You kept going and she kept talking—low and steady, praising everything, telling you that you were beautiful and good and so loved—and the warmth built until it was the only thing you were aware of.
"You're getting close," she said, certain and correct. "I can hear it." Her thumb stilled over your knuckles, just resting there. "Let it come. Don't rush it. Just let it arrive." She pressed her lips to your forehead and held them there—long and soft. "Mommy's got you. You're safe. Let go. Cum for me."
Your thighs trembled, toes curling as you rolled your hips up again, now back to circles with your fingers. You felt that peak coming, felt the pleasure rising…rising…
The orgasm moved through you in long warm waves—your hips lifting, her hand covering yours and holding the pressure exactly where you needed it while you shook through it. She murmured to you through all of it—good girl, so good, I've got you, that's it, that's my girl—until the last wave passed and you lay still, breathing hard.
"There," she said softly. "There she is. Breathe for me, let yourself calm down."
Her hand moved from yours to your stomach, just resting there to feel your heart start to fade back to a normal rhythm. Her lips pressed gently to your temple.
"You did so well," she murmured. "I'm so proud of you, my love." A warm pause. "How do you feel, hm?"
"Good," you said, soft and dazed. "Really good."
"Good." She pressed a kiss to your cheekbone. Then she leaned in and touched her nose to yours like she did before, just briefly, and pulled back with that small warm smile. "Would you like more?"
One second. That was all the thought it took.
You nodded.
The smile spread slow across her face. Then she leaned down and pressed her lips to your forehead—both hands cradling your face, holding the kiss there for a full breath. Deliberately long, deliberately there because she knew you needed it.
"Good girl," she said, against your skin. "Lie still. Close your eyes." One more press of her lips to your forehead. "Let Mommy take care of you."
You closed your eyes again, sinking into the feeling of being cared for.
You felt her shift down the bed—slowly, her hands warm at your hips, your waist. Her lips pressed to your sternum. Your ribs. She moved down your stomach with care that was in no way rushed, stopping to press a kiss to your hip, the soft skin of your lower belly, the crease of your inner thigh.
"You have the most beautiful body," she said, against your skin. Her lips moved slowly higher up your inner thigh. "I mean every word of that." A kiss pressed closer. "I want you to believe it while I do this." Closer still. "Will you try?"
"Yes, Mommy." Barely a whisper.
"Good girl."
She settled between your thighs and looked at you for a moment before she did anything. Just looked, with those green eyes, her hair falling around her face.
"You are so pretty," she said. "Like this. Right here." She pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. "I want to take my time with you." She pressed another kiss to the other thigh. "Is that okay?"
You nodded, your stomach already heating up again.
"Good girl." She pressed her nose briefly to the soft skin of your inner thigh—just that, just a small warm press—and you laughed softly at the tenderness of it. Then she moved higher and she licked one slow stripe through your folds.
You were still wet, and you tasted divine. Wanda settled in with the patience of someone who had nowhere else to be and no intention of being anywhere else. Her lips pressed soft against your pussy at first—barely any pressure at all—and she held there. Let you feel the warmth of her mouth. Let you adjust to it. Then her tongue moved again, moving from your clit to your hole, dipping inside and then retreating back to your clit again.
She worked without hurrying. Her tongue traced and circled, mapping you with the careful attention of someone who had done this before and still treated it like something worth relearning. She found the specific pressure just to the left of center that made your breath stutter and she stayed there, patient and deliberate, not varying it, not pulling away. Her hands were spread warm on your inner thighs, holding you open, and she was paying complete attention to every small response your body gave her.
She pulled back just enough to speak and her lips brushed softly against you as the words came out.
"You taste so good," she said. "Just like always." She pressed a kiss directly to your clit and you arched. "And you are so beautiful. All of you." Her tongue moved again, slow. "I could do this forever." A small pause. "Would you let me?"
The sound you made meant yes. More than yes. Always yes. She made a low warm sound in response and went back to work.
She stayed with you. She just stayed, fully present, not moving on or changing the subject, just there with her mouth and her complete attention. When she found the exact right pressure and the exact right circle of her tongue, she didn't vary it or pull back to tease. She just stayed there and let it build, steady and certain, because she knew you and she knew what you needed and what you needed right now was someone who wasn't going anywhere.
"Mommy—" Your voice broke in the middle of it.
"I know." Her lips moved warm against you. "I've got you. Just feel it." A kiss pressed soft against your clit. "Let Mommy."
The orgasm built in long slow waves—each one cresting a little higher, pulling back a little less—and she stayed with you through every one of them. Her hands kept their warm hold on your thighs. Her tongue kept its steady work. She murmured things against you in the spaces between and every word landed exactly it needed to be.
When it broke, it took everything with it. You sobbed through it, your hand gripping in her hair, your back lifting fully off the bed, and she held you through every wave with steady hands and didn't stop—drawing it out, patient and thorough, not stopping until the very last tremor had faded and you'd gone completely still beneath her.
Then there was quiet.
She pressed her lips to your inner thigh. Then the other one. A small kiss to each, like punctuation. Then she moved back up the bed slowly, gathering you in as she went, and you came into her arms without thinking about it because your body knew where it belonged.
She pulled you close—your head against her chest, her arm around your shoulders—and held you.
She didn't say anything. Just held you. The room was quiet and warm and you could hear her heartbeat under your cheek, slow and steady. You focused on it. Counted a few beats without meaning to and then stopped counting and just listened.
You started crying. Quietly. You weren't sad or stressed anymore though. Just from being held when you'd needed it, from the accumulated tenderness of the last hour, from the simple fact of being known this well by someone who had chosen to know you and kept choosing it.
Her hand moved in your hair—slow passes from your forehead back, steady and even, not trying to stop the tears or redirect them. Just letting you have them. She kept going until they ran out on their own and you lay soft and still and completely empty of everything the day had put in you.
"There she is," she said softly, into your hair. "There's my girl."
You pressed closer. She let you. Her arm tightened just slightly around your shoulders.
She held you as the room darkened—the light going gold and then amber and then the soft grey of evening—and neither of you moved because neither of you needed to. You listened to her heartbeat. You felt her breathe, her chest rising and falling beneath your cheek, slow and even. Occasionally her hand moved in your hair, or her fingers traced a slow absent pattern on your shoulder, or she pressed her lips to the top of your head without announcing it. She said nothing when she did it. It didn't need words.
Small things. Simple things. The kind that don't seem like much and are actually everything.
After a while, you became aware of normal things again. The texture of her shirt against your cheek—soft, worn in, one of her favorites. The weight of her arm around you. The sound of a car going by outside and then nothing again. The room had gone almost dark without either of you turning on a light, and you hadn't noticed. It didn't matter at all.
"Hey, baby," Wanda said softly.
"Mm."
Her hand moved to your face. She tilted your chin up gently and looked at you in the low light—at your face, your eyes, the state of you—and her expression was open and warm.
She pressed her nose to yours.
You giggled, rolling your eyes lightheartedly.
"You keep doin' that," you said.
She laughed with you. "Because I like seeing your eyes up close. The way they shine. And I like being close, my love."
She pressed a kiss to your forehead. Then your nose. Then the corner of your mouth. She pulled back and looked at you.
"Bath?" she asked.
You made an affirmative sound against her chest.
She pressed her lips to the top of your head. "Come on, then."
(-)
The bath was warm. Wanda had run it while you lay on the bed listening to the water, had added something that smelled like eucalyptus and something softer beneath it, had lit two candles on the edge of the tub.
You got in first and Wanda got in behind you. Settling back against her chest, you felt her arms come around you from behind and you exhaled something you hadn't known you were still holding.
Her hands moved under the water. Slow warm passes up your arms, your shoulders. No agenda. Just contact and warmth.
"Better?" she asked.
"So much better," you said.
She pressed her lips to the back of your neck and held them there.
You didn't talk much. The water was warm and the candles were burning steadily. The broken plate was still on the kitchen floor and the shampoo was still gone, but none of it mattered here. None of it could reach you.
Wanda's hands moved slowly under the water. She found your hands eventually and held them, her fingers laced through yours, both of your hands resting together just beneath the surface. She did nothing with them. Just held.
After a while she reached over the side of the tub—careful, not disturbing you—and came back with a small cup she'd left there. She dipped it in the water and poured it slowly over your shoulder. Warm water running down your skin. She did it again. Like she had all night and intended to spend it exactly like this.
"I ordered more of your shampoo." She pressed her lips to the back of your neck. "It'll be here Thursday."
Something small and warm bloomed in your chest. "Really?"
"Really, little dove," she said simply.
She poured the warm water over your other shoulder. Her thumb moved in a slow circle on the back of your hand.
You sat in the quiet of it.
"The plate," you said, after a while. "I'm…I'm so—"
"If you're about to apologize about that damn plate," Wanda interrupted you, her tone suddenly firm before she softened with a sigh. "We have other plates. And I was thinking of getting new ones anyway."
"That's not true."
"It might be true now." She pressed her nose to the back of your neck, brief and gentle. "I like the blue ones we saw at Target the other day."
You laughed softly. She felt it and her arms tightened, pulling you a little closer.
"I liked those too," you said.
"Good," she said, satisfied. Like it was decided.
Another slow pass of warm water over your shoulder. Her thumb still moving on the back of your hand. The candles flickering faintly. Outside, a sound you couldn't name and then quiet again.
Wanda's free hand came to rest over your heart. Just resting there, warm and still, under the water.
"You know what I think about sometimes?" Wanda kissed your temple.
"Mm?"
"How much you try." Her arm tightened slightly. "Every day. How hard you try at everything." Her lips pressed to the back of your neck. "I see it. Even on days like today, when everything goes wrong. I see you try." A pause. "I think about that a lot. How strong you are."
You were quiet, biting the inside of your cheek as you listened.
"I think it all the time," she continued. "I should say it more."
You turned your head and she kissed you, your lips moving together in a slow dance for several moments.
Breaking the kiss to breathe, you settled back against her chest and closed your eyes.
The water held you both. Wanda's arms were steady and safe around you and her breathing was slow and even against the back of your neck. Her thumb moved on the back of your hand in those small quiet circles.
The day had been what it had been. The tea, the toe, the shampoo, the mirror, and the plate. All of it. But it was over now. Completely over, and you were here, in warm water, with Wanda's arms around you and her lips occasionally finding the back of your neck for no reason except that you were there and she wanted to.
you’re ovulating and during your shower with wanda (she was innocently helping you wash in there) she notices the collection of stringy discharge at your opening when she was washing your body.
when you get out, she says nothing as she towels you off. but once you’re in bed, ready to snuggle with wanda and her wife, you’re slightly disoriented when wanda begins to strip you of the pajamas she just dressed you in. you address her in confusion but she shushes you and tells you to lie back on the bed.
you listen of course and that’s when you see natasha reappear in front of you at the end of the bed. she’s wearing a strap with an 8 inch dildo.
you swallow, calling out to natasha now as she crawls over your body on the bed.
“shhh, baby. daddy’s just giving your pretty cunt what it needs.”
with that, she spreads your legs. wanda lies next to you and strokes along your naked body. she coos and praises you as natasha works the strap slowly inside of you. they both talk you through it—inch by inch.
your gasps and whimpers are muffled as wanda presses her hand over your mouth.
when natasha bottoms out, she stays completely still. her hand that wasn’t holding your legs open draws the softest circles around your clit. it wasn’t enough—but that was on purpose.
your whines get louder against wanda’s hand. you want natasha to move so badly. your cunt clenches around her cock.
wanda kisses your cheek and then your forehead, assuring you that you’re okay.
that’s when natasha pulls out barely an inch. she reaches down and squeezes the base of her faux strap. it’s cum filled.
she squeezes it, effectively filling you up nice and deep. you register the cum spilling inside your womb and it makes your thighs twitch.
natasha eyes burn into yours as you whine and squirm on her strap.
“ohhh, baby—you’re okay.” she soothes, her palm cupping the side of your face.
she stays there for a couple more minutes. when she pulls out, wanda makes quick work of putting your panties back on.
“can’t have you dripping onto the sheets.” she had said. but really it was because they wanted you to be squirming in your wet panties.
you can hardly think about going to sleep at that point. you whined, pleaded and begged for either of them to touch you—please you. you even took turns humping their thighs at two separate times, completely uncaring how pathetic it was.
they didn’t give in. this was simply about filling you up, just like your body wanted.
can you tell i’m currently ovulating?🧍🏻♀️
Normal is -vastly- overrated. @alexawynters - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
