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|20| she/her 18+ only !requests are closed!

[crystalxwitch]

Library blog

18+ blog, minors DNI! minors or ageless blogs will be blocked, you do not have permission to republish my work on any other platforms!

if I blocked you for any wrong reasons, you may send an ask to me through my library blog.

❀ masterlist

❀ drabbles

❀ wips

Who do I write for?

↳ Wanda Maximoff, every other character played by Elizabeth Olsen, Natasha Romanoff, fem/gender neutral reader

What do I write?

↳ smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, etc.

What will I not write?

↳ misogyny, men, g!p, pedophilia, incest, (other things will be added)

[wndaswife]

girl next door | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Wanda attempts to become closer with the young woman who moved in beside her while balancing her work and personal life, though she’s doubtful of the possibility that you might be interested in her at all.

Word count: 23 310

Tags | MDNI: smut, fluff, shy idiots flirting, wanda is a cutie and kind of a pervert, specified age-gap, masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus, dildo usage, praise, wanda doesn’t know what mommy kink is yet but you can tell she’d be into it, milf!wanda maximoff, lesbian reader

Checking her rear mirror before signalling left and merging into the adjacent lane, Wanda drove around the moving truck parked outside of one of the townhouse buildings she lived beside. Beside her detached house was a townhouse owned and put up for rent for temporary long-stay renters, and often, around the beginning of the summer or the start of September, Wanda would often see professionals working in Jersey City moving in.

It was the start of the summer now, and there were presently movers helping to carry small pieces of furniture through the open townhouse doors. It was furnished inside, Wanda assumed, though the furniture they were bringing in seemed to be building up to some sort of office — perhaps there was an extra empty room in there for renters, and whoever was moving in was setting up a workspace.

Wanda nearly missed her driveway while she was scrutinising everything the movers were bringing in, trying to pin down whoever it was that was renting. When Wanda stepped out and shut the car door, she could see a young woman from above the roof of her car stepping out of the townhouse’s front door, talking with the movers and letting them know where to place the furniture.

Just when it seemed that the young woman’s gaze shifted over to Wanda, who was, admittedly, staring a bit too hard, Wanda’s phone buzzed with an incoming phone call and she quickly broke eye contact to pick it up. She locked her car and walked up to her front door, carrying a stack of paperwork of upcoming orders that she needed to sort through.

She thought of you again while making dinner, curious about you for some reason she didn’t quite understand. She wondered if you were just a younger relative helping the actual renter move in, or if someone who looked as young as you had really moved into Westview by herself just beside her. 

From the kitchen island counter where she was standing eating her dinner, Wanda looked through the living room window where she could watch you continue to unpack a few small things from the back of your trunk. She regarded you curiously; perhaps it was your age or the fact that you seemed to have moved in alone that seemed to be interesting to her, though Wanda wasn’t sure why any of that would necessarily pique her interest as she felt like it had.

In the morning, Wanda prepared for the twins’ arrival in the afternoon when she’d have to pick them up after work, waking up with enough time to clean. 

Vision, Wanda’s ex-husband, worked as an attorney in New Jersey and often stayed in New York, but when it was his turn with the twins, he stayed in New Jersey — much closer to Westview.

Wanda had always counted herself as lucky for having been married to and having children with a good man. Though she and Vision were necessarily divorced, she never had to worry about what would become of their connection, and she knew that their relationship wouldn’t regress into something difficult between the both of them nor with their children.

However it became rather clear as their relationship progressed, especially after they had children, that the directions of their ambitions and perspectives of their lives were diverting from each other; nothing about them aligned except for their children. 

Vision was Wanda’s neighbour when she first moved into her apartment once arriving in America alone. He was smart and very kind and showed her around. He was a westernised Brit, which was palatable for Wanda who found security with a man who knew so much about the country she had just moved to, but who also wasn’t overbearing, and was rather well-mannered and docile. 

When they first met, Vision was finishing his second last year of law school, and Wanda didn’t have much going on for herself until she made plans to open a business. It all went quite fast after they married; Vision passed his bar and Wanda’s floral shop had begun to find its footing, and they decided to finally have a family. 

But Vision’s career and dreams took him further than what Westview could offer, and Wanda wasn’t the same young woman with wide-eyes and unsteady footing like she was when they met — she had dreams too, and children. 

By the time the twins turned two, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that things were different. Their dynamic had changed, they weren’t of the same mind as they used to be, and Vision could tell that Wanda had changed too; she hadn’t intended to be distant, but it always felt like her life took place somewhere her husband couldn’t reach. She was changing and growing, and she didn’t need a crutch to lean on anymore.

She wasn’t as unsteady and lost as she used to be. 

By the time she was leaving the house, it should’ve been around the time that Vision was dropping the twins off, but instead, she opened the door to see them running up the porch stairs. 

Surprised at the way they rushed passed her, both giving her a quick hello before they ran up the stairs, Wanda stuttered, “What–” 

“They forgot their class projects,” Vision explained with an awkward smile, stepping onto the porch and watching Tommy and Billy dash into their rooms. 

“The Bristol boards?”

He nodded.

“Did they behave?” she asked, holding her purse with both hands in front of her. 

“Of course,” her ex-husband answered with a smile. “We went to the cinema on Friday. Tommy cried during the final scene and Billy was quite supportive.”

Wanda and Vision shared a laugh, and chatted about how it was going with the new firm he was with and about Wanda’s shop, until the twins came back down holding their school projects. 

“Good luck on your presentations today,” Wanda told them and leaned down, holding each of their faces delicately and kissing each of their foreheads. 

“Thank you, mama,” Billy replied cheerily and gave her the best hug he could with his other arm full of Bristol board. 

Vision and Wanda spoke a little more about when he would pick them up this weekend for their grandfather’s birthday, which Wanda couldn’t attend because she had promised to help set up a town event celebrating the start of the new season. 

Westview was a popular destination during the Spring for it was located in a relatively secluded area of New Jersey, and well-known for its nature reserves, which also meant Westview well-decorated for the season. 

That also meant Wanda and her floral shop were always hard at work throughout the start of Spring. 

From the corner of her eye, Wanda saw your car pull into the driveway, and for a moment she saw you briefly running your eyes over her and Vision and the twins in the car. 

Throughout the day, Wanda thought of you for the same reason as she did last night, and with the same degree of inexplicability. While she signed and read through paperwork for orders and put together arrangements alongside her employees, she thought of how long you might be renting and where you’d come from. She thought of the kind of flowers you might like; she tried her best to recall the furniture and items you’d brought in yesterday to try and pin down your style. 

Once she realised how much she’d been thinking of you and realising it was strange that she kept acting as if she hadn’t been thinking of you, Wanda decided to put together a bouquet for you as a welcome gift. 

After she picked the twins up from school, she was sure to keep the bouquet in its vase secured in the passenger’s seat, checking on it occasionally as she spoke with the boys about how their days and presentations went. 

“Go put your things away,” Wanda told them as she ushered them through the front door, “I’ll come to help you with your homework in just a minute.” She locked the front door and headed back to her car, reaching into the passenger’s seat for the bouquet. 

Your car was in the driveway, and she could see some movement through the window beside the dining room. 

For the first time since she even thought to put the bouquet together, Wanda wondered if she was coming off too strong, or even too strange. After all, why would the older woman neighbouring you introduce herself with a bouquet of flowers?

Wanda could justify herself to you; she owned a floral shop and was working all day and didn’t have time to give you anything else and she always made a point to be friendly to neighbours. 

Before she could even justify herself to herself, she was already knocking on your front door holding the vase securely with two hands. She heard some rustling beyond the door, and a few chaotic tumbles, before the front door opened and Wanda got a good look at you for the first time. 

You were young — a college student, she presumed — and pretty. 

Wanda felt her words catch in her throat and she internally panicked trying to get some form of an introduction out. She hadn’t known what she had expected from you when she knocked on your door or what unsuspecting part of her curiosity was taken aback by your appearance, but Wanda forced out an introduction as normal-seeming as she could.

“Hi,” she said with a friendly smile, “I’m Wanda Maximoff, your next-door neighbour.”

Panicked and deciding that her initial introduction wasn’t enough, she added, “I thought I should introduce myself.”

She couldn’t seem to stop rambling. “A-And I work at a floral shop in the shopping district, hence the flowers,” she explained then held the vase out to you.

You seemed genuinely happy and appreciative when you replied, “Oh, that’s so nice of you! Thank you so much.” Wanda was grateful when you took the bouquet from her and didn’t look like you thought the gesture was strange.

“I was hoping I might be able to meet some people from the neighbourhood soon and maybe explore Westview a little,” you told her, “but I’ve just been so busy unpacking — so thank you, really.”

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you,” you introduced yourself. “I saw you this morning and thought to say hello today too, but I think I’ve just been so overwhelmed with the move.”

Wanda thought you were sweet and rather cute. She attributed it to the fact that you stood out from the other people of Westview who were older and a bit less spry. “It’s normal to be a bit overwhelmed once first moving into a new place,” she told you supportively. “I’m sure you’ll adjust in no time; Westview is easy to get comfortable in.”

“Thank you,” you answered graciously. “I’m happy to finally be able to talk to someone here.”

You were trusting and talkative too, Wanda noted.

“I would be happy to show you around whenever you have some free time,” Wanda found herself offering quicker than she could think through what she was saying. She added, trying to save her first impression, “Only if you don’t mind — I assume you’re a student and rather busy.”

“I would really love to have a tour!” you answered enthusiastically. “Thank you so much. I feel adjusted to Westview already.”

Wanda felt herself flush, feeling appreciated and flattered by your words.

“Would it be okay if we exchanged numbers?” you asked. “I can let you know when I’m free next! I should be sometime at the end of the week; I don’t start my work until next week.”

“O-Of course, that’s completely okay,” Wanda said with a wide neighbourly smile, stuttering slightly for a reason she couldn’t exactly explain to herself. It was normal to exchange numbers with acquaintances, but the idea of you asking for her number made her feel excited.

You kept taking her by surprise, though she wasn’t sure why.

For the rest of the night, Wanda tended to the twins — helping them with their homework, making them dinner, and playing Minecraft with them before bed.

They said she was bad at it, but they always asked for her to play with them.

As she got ready in her washroom after putting the boys to bed, Wanda picked up her phone at the sound of a text and found a message from you: Hi Ms Maximoff, it’s Y/N! Thanks again for the flowers, they’re beautiful.

The way in which you addressed her was all too formal, but there was something about how polite and proper it was that she enjoyed, even if it made her feel a little old. 

While Wanda found herself smiling at her phone and thinking up a way to reply, you texted again: You mentioned you worked at a floral shop in town. Where is it located?

Eventually, you spoke to her about what you were studying and what you were in Westview for and for how long. She talked about Tommy and Billy and their father and when she opened her business. You and Wanda continued to text you back and forth until she realised she had stayed up about thirty minutes past when she planned to sleep, and she had to tell you goodnight. 

Wanda couldn’t remember the last time someone seemed so genuinely interested in her life and interested in sharing things about themselves with her. It made her feel interesting and paid attention to. 

In the morning immediately after dropping the twins off and saying goodbye to them, her thoughts went to you and the conversation you shared together last night. 

You had just graduated and were now doing research with a professor, and you wanted to explore some research before beginning your Master’s. Since your professor’s research institute was located closer to Westview than northern New Jersey, you decided to move to Westview for the duration of your six-month research period.

Around the beginning of the day Wanda thought of you the most, wondering particularly about when she might see you again and when you might be free, until the afternoon rolled around when her scheduled employees came in and she started picking up the pace with her orders and arrangements.

It wasn’t a large shop, so there were typically four people working there at a time. One dealt with walk-in orders and those who wanted to purchase anything on display in the front, another with shipments and administrative work, and two that helped with preparing and putting together the arrangements. 

Wanda oversaw and managed all of it along with Agatha, who she’d opened the shop with, so she worked each day aside from Fridays and Saturdays — unless she needed to be at work — and Sundays when the shop was closed.

Spring was busy for them, but Westview was a rather small town and their shop was also local and a bit smaller. However, it was from Wanda’s shop that businesses and sometimes the town ordered intricate arrangements for events or for statement display pieces.

But by the late afternoon, the shop had a visitor that Wanda hadn’t expected.

“Y/N,” Wanda uttered at the sight of you walking into the shop, looking around at the vases and flowers and succulents on display.

“Hi,” you greeted with a smile once you walked up to the cash register. 

Wanda’s smile widened and she felt herself excited and unsteady at the thought that you might have come into the shop purposely just to visit her — but she couldn’t jump to conclusions. “Are you looking for another bouquet?” she teased.

You laughed and Wanda felt her chest flutter.

“No, not yet,” you answered. “I just thought I would return the welcome favour with a gift.”

You laid a cup of tea and a pastry on the counter between the both of you and Wanda found herself speechless by your gesture — you had come just to visit her after she told you where she worked, and you had brought a gift for her too.

“I finally got the chance to walk around today, and I thought to visit the shopping district first and stopped by the café down the street to get something for you. I hope you’re okay with Oolong.”

“Y/N…” Wanda didn’t know what to say, her hands laying themselves by the tea and pastry but not having enough confidence to take them. “You really didn’t have to — and to have come all the way over here!”

You laid your hand atop of Wanda’s and she felt her cheeks flush, her eyes flickering down to your soft hand for a brief moment before looking back up at your soft expression. “But I wanted to,” you told her, then retracted your hand. “I really am grateful and I hoped to be able to make my own impression if not pay you back for the gift.”

Wanda felt so warm and she finally gave in, taking the tea and pastry and moving it closer to her and beside the cash register. “Thank you so much, that’s very kind,” she said.

To have someone think of her so much, to go out of their way during their first day free from unpacking to visit her and make such a thoughtful gesture instilled in Wanda a feeling she hadn’t felt in a very long time — or ever, if she really thought about it.

She felt so cared for, and seen.

“Have you been liking the town so far?” she asked.

You nodded. “Westview is really beautiful, and I’m happy to have chosen to move here,” you answered.

“But you seem busy,” you said, looking around at the employees walking behind her with papers or assortments of flowers in their hands. “Hopefully we’re both free soon so you can show me around your favourite spots.”

“I’m really looking forward to that,” Wanda replied with an eager smile. 

Over the next while, Wanda’s free time completely diminished and she struggled to find any time to see you like she’d promised or even talking with you in-person or over the phone. 

You sometimes see her coming back late, sometimes looking fatigued or just in a rush to finally get home, so you didn’t want to push by messaging or visiting her, intruding where you shouldn’t as a neighbour and a new friend. 

You imagined that the mere thought of you must just be another task she must complete and try to fit into her schedule, so you didn’t want to impose yourself and overwhelm her. 

Wanda also thought often about reaching out to you just to ask how you’d been and to let you know that she’d just been rather overwhelmed for the last two weeks, but that she’d been thinking of you and hoping her schedule might free up soon. 

She felt disappointed in the timing too, because she knew that your research project had already begun. 

But she thought the attempts would be fruitless and unwanted — why message you just to say she still couldn’t fulfil her promise?

There was one time you nearly had a proper conversation with her a few days ago. You were outside planting some flowers you had bought, finally having finished packing inside and deciding that it was time to decorate the exterior of your place too. 

Wanda was waiting for a ride from her coworker as her car was in the shop, and she had gone out to wait for her at the same time you were outside. 

She asked how your research had been going and you spoke a little about that, but you spoke more about the flowers you were planting and Wanda’s tips on how to take care of them. 

The conversation ended abruptly though the both of you had plenty more to say when a brunette older woman around Wanda’s age pulled into her driveway — and in a rather gorgeous vintage car. 

A few times, Wanda saw you walking around town with Dottie, a teacher at Tommy and Billy’s school and a member of the town council, and Wanda sometimes saw her at the meetings when she occasionally stopped by. 

They interacted a handful of times during events, but first met when she was Tommy and Billy’s teacher. She came off as condescending, at least to Wanda, but got along just fine with Vision. 

She didn’t think there was any particular reason that Dottie would dislike her, but she understood that it did sometimes happen that some people just didn’t get along by nature. But she seemed to be getting along with you just fine — quite well actually, for how often she saw you walking together. 

Over time when she had begun to hear from you less, Wanda figured that perhaps you had only just wanted to make a friend in Westview, and Dottie was around far more than she was.

Wanda supposed that Dottie was perhaps a bit more enthusiastic also. She was younger than her too, which Wanda guessed was something that you might like more — perhaps you had more in common with her.

It seemed like the only thing that aligned well between you and Wanda was where you lived.

“Ms Maximoff!” you called from your driveway, and Wanda turned to see you waving at her.

It was around six in the morning, and Wanda had to head to the shop early to receive some shipments. 

“Hi, Y/N,” she answered and waved back with a pleased smile.

The two of you bridged the gap between the two driveways and met in between.

“Good morning,” Wanda greeted, her smile wider upon seeing you much closer.

Your eagerness to speak with her was refreshing and quite nice.

“Morning,” you replied. “Are you heading to work?”

She nodded and explained, “I have a few shipments coming in today that I need to be there for. And you? Are you heading to your professor’s office?”

“I am, yeah,” you said, a bit wearily as if feeling sheepish.

Sometimes you felt a little shy bringing up things that made the age difference between you and Wanda all the more obvious, like how you were basically going off to school just like her kids would while she was heading off to work at a shop she owned. 

Wanda was about to ask why you seemed to lack enthusiasm about heading there, but then you asked: “Can I drive you to work? I can pick you up when you’re off.”

The offer took Wanda by surprise. You were so considerate of her, and without even a second thought to it. “O-Oh, really?” she stuttered. “You don’t have to do that. I’ve been coming home late recently; I don’t want to keep you up or bother you with waiting for me.”

“I know,” you said. “I hope it’s not stalkerish — it’s by complete coincidence, I promise — but sometimes I do see you coming home a bit later. But I have some things to read for my professor today that I’ll take home to do tonight, so I’ll be up.”

“That’s… really sweet. But why go out of your way?”

She couldn’t tell because you were facing away from the sunrise so your face had casted shadow upon it, but it seemed like you were blushing as if having been caught in an act.

Wanda only regarded you with curiosity, squinting a little against the sun so she could see you better.

“I don’t want to come off as pushy, I apologise,” you quickly explained. “It was just something that came to mind.”

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” Wanda replied, waving her hands in front of her and placing a hand on your arm reassuringly when you looked unsure of yourself. She tried to conjure up something to explain why she was so confused and surprised by your kindnesses, but was quickly shut up by her own hand at the feeling of your still arm under her palm and the meeting of your eyes with hers.

She dropped her hand and tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to sort through her thoughts for you.

The more Wanda thought about why it was so difficult to navigate your personality, the more she came to the realisation that aside from friends, and coworkers — which category, for whatever reason, Wanda didn’t think you fell into in that same informality — the only other experience she could call on was that which she had with Vision.

He was very formal and docile, and never took risks or said or did things out of what was expected. It seemed often that he was filling a role or going through the motions of things, which had never been very much of a problem for Wanda, who had thoroughly appreciated how static and steady he was.

As such, Wanda found herself often flustered and surprised by your affectionate gestures that told her you were interested in spending time with her, and spared no subtlety.

“I just feel a little guilty for having no time lately, and I haven’t really done you any favours,” she explained. “I think I just feel surprised when you take the time out of your day to think of me.”

Wanda worried that she might have embarrassed you, and she stayed silent, trying not to fuck anything else up by rambling in the way that she always felt like doing. She forgot that you had just finished your undergrad and that she was, in stark comparison, thirty-two years old, divorced, and living in a small town in New Jersey with two young kids.

Maybe she was struggling to view you in the casual way that anyone else in her shoes ought to, to see you like a neighbour or a passerby or a temporary renter of the house she lived beside.

But if not any of those came naturally to her, how did she see you?

Why did she keep thinking of how you saw Dottie?

“I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t sound like I was rejecting your kindness,” she added, unable to keep quiet for even a moment.

“Why do you feel like you have to do favours for me?” you asked. “It’s okay if you do nothing for me ever, actually. I think I just like your company.”

Did you like consistency, a stable presence?

Did it bother you that she had introduced herself to you, then didn’t talk much afterwards?

Was trying to see her more a form of seeking consistency in a new town, rather than out of an actual desire of seeing her?

“I would love to get a ride from you,” Wanda told you and smiled. “Thank you. And I don’t think you come off as pushy at all.”

You and Wanda talked a lot on the drive to the shop. 

She told you that she’d been extremely stressed with balancing everything and getting everything prepared in time, and always tried to finish most if not all of her work before the weekends so she could spend the most of it with her sons. 

Thankfully, she’d been able to catch up with everything as the orders had died down, and she predicted that she may be finished before the upcoming weekend.

“Um, I don’t know if maybe you might not want to — so feel free to say no, since I know you have stuff going on,” you said once you parked in front of Wanda’s shop. “But I went to this really nice garden a few days ago and saw that next weekend there’s a Spring festival event, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”

Before Wanda could answer, you added quickly, “Again, also, I don’t wanna add to your stress.”

“Y/N,” Wanda said, softly, before reaching over to place her hand atop of yours where it laid on your thigh. “I would love to go with you. I don’t think you’re a bother, and it wouldn’t add to my stress to see you at all. In fact, I think I would thoroughly enjoy taking the weekend to relax with you.”

“Really?”

Wanda nodded and smiled. “Westview has the Spring festival every year — it’s one of the reasons I’m quite busy at the shop at the start of the season.”

“Would your kids like to go?”

“Their father is taking them to New York City this weekend, so it’ll be just you and I, if that’s okay.”

The enthusiasm written on your face at her answer made Wanda giggle. 

—

“What’s got you so jolly at six in the morning?” Agatha asked as she was unloading the shipment of glass vases from the delivery truck.

“What?” Wanda asked, looking up from her bag that she had placed in the backroom to start helping her unload.

The two women had been friends since Wanda moved into Westview with Vision years ago. She was there for her before they divorced, during it, and after, and helped Wanda open her business. 

In fact, Agatha was Wanda’s right-hand woman in the shop, and they worked closely in terms of their job position and responsibilities.

Agatha stood up straight and put her hands on her hips, surveying her best friend. 

“What are you looking at?” Wanda inquired hastily, leaning over to try and lift up a rather large securely-wrapped vase — it was for a new store’s grand opening for this upcoming weekend, so they ordered a rather large ensemble. “Can you help me?”

She ignored Wanda’s request for help and pressed on. “Are you seeing someone?” 

“What? No! I’m not seeing anyone.”

Agatha squinted and her fingers tapped distractedly against her hip. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Agatha, I’m sure. Please–”

“Did you sleep with someone last night? A one-night stand, then.”

Wanda stood up straight and put her hands on her own hips defiantly. “No!” she answered with finality. “Why are you asking me all this?”

“You just look like…”

“Like what?”

“You look smitten.”

She never used the term smitten in thinking about how she felt about you, but to have someone else call it that made Wanda reevaluate her feelings toward you.

Is that how she felt?

“It’s just nice to be noticed… and-and taken care of,” Wanda said as she and Agatha started restocking the inventory room, with Wanda checking things off their checklist and taking inventory count — albeit distractedly.

“Honey,” Agatha started, setting down a planter on the table Wanda was leaning her hip on and standing in front of her. “I’m so happy that you’ve met Y/N, and she seems really sweet, but I hope you know what you’re doing with someone younger than you.”

She added, “It’s not like this is something familiar to you. The only person you’ve really been with is your ex-husband, and you were the younger woman.”

Wanda looked down at the checklist, thinking. “I don’t think I’m really expecting her to… to want anything. I don’t think she could even be interested in that,” she said. “I think maybe I should just see things from a black-and-white perspective — see things as they are.”

“Don’t get me wrong — I don’t want to deter you from pursuing who you’re interested in, Wanda,” Agatha told her. “I just don’t want to see you hurt. I know you’ve been married and that you have kids, but you have a wide-eyed view of the world. I don’t want to see you get hurt or let down.”

—

“Were you busy today?” you asked as you held the passenger door open for Wanda.

“Thank you,” she said with a grateful smile as she slid in. “No — Agatha was working with me all day.”

When you got into the driver’s seat, you asked, “Who’s that?”

“She’s a good friend of mine, and we opened the shop together,” Wanda explained, buckling herself in. “How was your day?”

The conversation was so casual and almost domestic, and the comfort of being able to see you after work felt a lot like coming back home after a long day. 

“I guess not so bad,” you answered, making your way home. “I was reading and taking notes all day.”

After a moment of trying to garner some confidence, Wanda spoke. “Y/N, I want to say that I really appreciate your company, and how kind you’ve been to me,” she said honestly, playing with her fingers with her hands tucked between her thighs. “I don’t have a lot of time to meet new people, and Westview is rather small, so it’s also rare for anyone to be as thoughtful as you.”

She added, “I thought I should be honest, and I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate the time you take for me.”

You shifted a little in your seat, and Wanda thought maybe you were just taking a moment to choose your words carefully. 

“I didn’t think you were unappreciative,” you reassured. “I was just trying to be friendly.”

Friendly. 

Wanda looked at you for a few moments, studying your face, until you turned and smiled at her. She returned the smile and looked back to the road silently. 

Had she embarrassed you this morning? 

Was she misreading things?

She wanted to sink into the seat and fall right through to the core of the earth. 

The rest of the drive was filled mostly with small talk, though it didn’t feel very awkward. However, Wanda felt like she was on edge, like she had some responsibility to be more direct or open, and she didn’t quite know how else to be anything but hesitant and unsure of herself. 

She felt disappointed when you pulled into her driveway, now having been unable to communicate her affection for you properly throughout the drive. 

“By the way, uh…” You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly and Wanda looked at you, anxious about what you might say. 

If you were going to apologise for being so forward and open with her, she wouldn’t know what to do next. She wanted to keep becoming closer with you, and to spend time with you like you’d discussed, and she wouldn’t know how to take that up on her own if you decided to apologise for everything. 

“I made you dinner,” you said finally and turned around to reach in the backseat to hand Wanda a tupperware of pasta that was still quite warm. “You’re always coming back late, and I’m sometimes having dinner later because I just get caught up with the work I’m doing, so I thought I’d just make you some since I was gonna pick you up.”

You had an awkward, nervous smile on your lips and your thumb kept tapping against the lid as you spoke. 

Wanda melted, her hand coming to her chest as she leaned forward to take a look at what looked like spaghetti. “Y/N, I don’t know what to say… You didn’t have to…”

She felt truly a loss for words, being entirely unable to remember the last time someone had been so considerate of her. 

Since her divorce, most of Wanda’s life had been occupied by her job and her children. It wasn’t anything to complain about, and she very rarely ever did, but your kindness and attention the past little while reminded her of how infrequently she had anything new happen in her life. 

“You’re so considerate of me,” she said as sincerely as she could communicate, looking up from the food and at you, who met her eyes with a soft blush before looking away.

The bashfulness of your reaction made Wanda take her bottom lip between her teeth, a small grin forming on her lips, equally as nervous but also fueled by her intrigue in you.

“Thank you for driving me and making me dinner,” Wanda said after unlocking her front door.

When she turned, you were standing on her porch looking at her expectantly, the tupperware in hand. She thought you looked so sweet… and young — just innocent.

There was something so delicate about the respectful distance the both of you kept, a lingering interest in one another, and something that just felt tense. 

It made Wanda ache in ways she couldn’t quite explain. 

Even with Vision, the excitement she’d felt with him was different from what she was feeling now. She was so young back when they first met, and the pull she’d felt towards him was similar to that of a lighthouse’s to a stranded sailor. 

There was so much she’d yet to learn or live through when she first met him, and she often wondered how things might’ve been if she hadn’t spent so much of her time tied down. 

But at the end of everything, there were the twins, and Wanda could never truly wish for anything that had happened up until now to change if it meant not having them. 

If she thought about it, it seemed that most of what she did was settle for a lack of other opportunity; nothing very new or exciting happened in her life nor in Westview, and by the time she was no longer who she was when she first moved to America, she was engaged with plans for children and a future with the first man she’d met when she came here. 

She suddenly felt quite determined to become close with you, for it certainly wasn’t very often that anyone paid her any mind. 

Especially not someone like you. 

“I really enjoy your company, Ms Maximoff, and I know you think I’m always going so far out of my way for you, but honestly, I like to be able to help,” you insisted. 

Wanda felt a surge in the depths of her lower stomach and up to her chest at the polite tone of your voice and the way you looked in the warm orange of her porch light. She stepped forward and took the tupperware from you. She wrapped an arm around your upper back and pecked your cheek. 

“The effort isn’t lost on me, I assure you,” she said, then pulled away with a soft smile to find your cheeks slightly flushed and your eyes darting around nervously. Her smile could only widen in response and she laughed a little, pulling away from you to head inside.

She bid you a goodbye with a wave of her hand which you returned, and Wanda closed the front door behind her. 

Almost immediately once she closed the door, the twins called from their father’s phone to talk with her before they headed to bed; sometimes they called in the evenings when they were away, and especially if they’d done something fun with their father earlier. 

They greeted her together: “Hi, mom!” 

“Hi, boys,” she replied with a widening grin as she set her things down, balancing your tupperware in the other arm. “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?”

Then there came the excuses of wanting to stay up to speak with her. She thought they were cute when they were making excuses, so she pretended she didn’t catch on. 

It wasn’t until after the call ended and Wanda was in the middle of eating the dinner you’d prepared for her that she finally had time to reflect on some things. 

Firstly, the dinner was delicious, and so that made a marvellous impression in her mind about you as a well-put-together student who knew how to cook for herself. 

Then she wondered — worried, even — if the kiss was going a bit too far. But you didn’t seem uncomfortable, and there was something about you that made Wanda think you were–

She frowned at herself, rubbing her forehead with the hand she was holding her fork in as she nearly came to a thought that she wouldn’t be able to decipher between projection and reality. 

And if it were projection, that must mean there was some sort of intentionality behind it. 

Maybe Agatha was right, and she really was smitten. 

What would anyone else call it — a crush? 

That made her nose wrinkle up as she poked at the pasta, deep in thought; older women didn’t get crushes. Older women were presently married or they got divorced. 

But a college student, for crying out loud… 

What was she thinking?

She took her bottom lip between her teeth and stared at her phone, trying to repress the urge to text you about dinner as if she hadn’t just been scolding herself for the complicated feelings she was having about you. 

Giving in, she set the fork down and texted you, telling you that the dinner was delicious, and moreover, that she would certainly have to find a way to pay you back and buy you a meal this weekend. 

She thought she was acting ridiculous for having just previously been feeling conflicted for how she was feeling and now itching to hear a response from you. 

Wanda moved her empty bowl away and hid her face in her arms, feeling helpless for the fluttery way she continued to feel in her stomach in spite of how her mind desperately tried to come up with ways to reason her thoughts of you away. 

She knew what anyone would call her — a divorcée desperate for attention from a younger girl who wasn’t as caught up with life as people her age were and so, predictably, Wanda clung onto you. 

But it wasn’t like she couldn’t get the attention of other people. 

Once Wanda had signed up for a dating app upon Agatha’s advice, and she thought it was rather easy to find people interested in her, though often attracting men she didn’t feel very invested in at all nor whom she ever enjoyed seeing enough for a second date. 

Not very often, but here and there, Wanda would be approached by men in public too. 

She always thought her lack of interest was because she was too busy, and even entertained the idea that perhaps she just wasn’t cut out for any kind of relationship after her marriage. 

But she didn’t feel that way at all about you. She thought you were sweet and rather cute and though she had to admit there was something about your age that enticed her, she also really enjoyed talking with you when she could over text, and often looked forward to passing by you in the driveway. 

She was curious about things like your schooling and what you thought of Westview, and more about where you’d come from and how you decorated the inside of your place. 

And there was a feeling deep within her chest and rising up her belly when she was around you or when you spoke with her, blushing around her or smiling in the shy way you did, that she couldn’t recall if she felt with Vision at all. 

As Wanda got ready for bed and pretended like there wasn’t a reason she carried her phone with her to the washroom, she thought more about how she felt about Vision when they first met, and questioned her attraction to him. 

There were times when she certainly felt attracted, though most typically when they were about to have sex and more frequently after they got married, but she couldn’t recall if the interest she felt with you this early into knowing you was ever involved in how she regarded Vision. 

She just couldn’t stop thinking about how unsure and confused she was during the time of her life when they’d first met, and how that differed greatly from the place she was in now. 

While getting into bed, Wanda’s phone buzzed. She picked it up faster than she’d like to admit. 

You texted: Yay! Glad you like it!! I’m really looking forward to this weekend :)

A smile came to Wanda’s face as she read your text and she slowly descended into the comfort of her sheets as she replied. Perhaps she should’ve just liked the message and headed to bed, but after thinking of you for so long, she couldn’t help but want to talk a little more. 

She replied: Are you still up doing work? Or are you heading to bed soon?

The response was read almost immediately and Wanda felt her heart race. 

Just one more thing I have to do, then bedtime.. I hope you sleep well, Ms Maximoff <3

Wanda felt a rush surge through her and she inhaled sharply after reading the message, feeling her fingers partially frozen for a moment.

It was at a time in her relationship with you that you could start calling her by her first name, and really, the formalities made her feel a little old. 

But also, there was something she liked about how polite you were — the shy smile on your face as you called her Ms Maximoff, how well-mannered you were.

And if she really thought about it… Wanda thought it placed her in a position of some authority, implying not only an age difference but a power dynamic when you addressed her. 

It was new for her. 

Don’t overwork yourself, Y/N :) Sweet dreams.

Wanda set her phone down and stared up at the ceiling. She wondered if you’ve ever been interested in an older woman before. Her cheeks immediately warmed at the thought — calling herself an older woman, carrying with it some sort of scandalous implication, and imagining you, someone so innocent and sweet, involved in it. 

Her thoughts wandered before she could stop them, thinking of what that dynamic might be like. 

Did she suit the ‘older woman’ character? Didn’t someone young like you need someone older and experienced, and confident about their sexuality? Isn’t that how these things normally went?

But she hardly knew anything, and only had one very short fling with a man since her divorce. 

She’d never even been with a woman, let alone a younger girl. 

Wanda turned onto her side and brought her plush blankets up to her face, the cold surface of it cooling her flushed cheeks. 

But she couldn’t help but really think about it… As in, the kind of relationship and dynamic the two of you might have together if it really did happen, and if, maybe, she wasn’t making it all up. 

If you had the capacity to like an older woman, that must’ve meant you had been with other girls before. 

The thought of it made Wanda’s heart race. 

She’d heard from Agatha the difference between being with a woman and with a man, that women were softer and smarter, knowing how to touch another woman as if she were herself, never thinking of imposing herself upon her like men did.

Sleeping with a woman is a form of masturbation, she’d said, for how women knew each other like they knew themselves. 

Wanda wondered if you were as gentle with a lover as you were by your nature, for she knew that some people were vastly different in the bedroom than they were outside of it.

The thought of you exploring her body with your open palms and curved fingers, just as considerate and kind as you always were with her, a shaky ‘Ms Maximoff, is this okay?’ spilling from your lips as you moved closer–

Wanda squeezed her eyes shut and turned onto her other side, her fingers tightening around her blankets as she felt an undeniable ache growing between her thighs. 

Daring to act defiantly against her sense of shame and dignity, trembling fingers slipped beneath her pajama shorts, not daring to go farther than her hips. 

Her nails sunk into her right hip, scratching lightly at the skin as she held herself back, only for her thoughts to wander to the idea of your clumsy hands grabbing at her hips, your nails pressing into her skin as you pulled her closer, your breath shaky.

She took one of her pillows and lifted her blanket up, tucking it between her thighs and up against her clothed centre. 

Taking her bottom lip between her teeth and hiding the top half of her face with her hand, she dared to roll her hips forward to satisfy the pressure between her thighs. But it was too dull for how her clit throbbed, desperate for further contact. 

Frustrated at both how she was giving in and with how she had grown so desperate to the point of hastily pushing the pillow out of the way, she slipped her fingers past the waistband of her shorts and underwear.

The pads of her fingers met with the warmth of her sticky folds and Wanda whimpered into her pillow, turning her head and hiding from some invisible presence that she imagined was looking down at the display she was putting on. 

She circled her middle finger against her clit and she shuddered, goosebumps running up her thighs as she tightly wrapped an arm around the pillow she’d previously pushed away, and she pulled it to her chest. 

When she felt she was wet enough, and at the feeling of how she began tightening around nothing, her eyebrows furrowed together as she entered herself with two fingers, her thighs parting to allow her wrist some room. 

She couldn’t help the way her mind went to you, not when her body urged to feel more; her thoughts summoned the thought of you, daring to imagine you beneath her, your hands running up her bare hips and up to hold her waist, the look of your face contorted with pleasure, your eyes meeting hers. 

She’d never considered herself very assertive, especially not in the bedroom, but there was just something about you that awoke something in her that was completely foreign. 

The idea of it excited her. 

She’d never felt so… aroused. 

Her thoughts gradually became more shameful, thinking about how you sounded like when you orgasmed, and particularly enjoying the idea that you’d be shy to make noise, prone to begging, and one to be eager to please your lover. 

Wanda felt herself inch closer to her climax. 

Maybe you’d be nervous to be with an older woman, hesitant to touch her and worried about being disrespectful. The thought of herself encouraging you, no longer being unsure and passive about things, sent a thrill through Wanda that she was certain she’d never felt before. 

All this she associated only with you, and as she felt herself begin to tighten around her fingers, Wanda’s mind was full of you, shamelessly, and her heart pounded against her ribcage.

She came, crying out partially-muffled with half her face buried in her pillow, her wrist sore and her fingers numb to the repetitive speed at which she fingered herself.

When she fell back down from her height, her previously-arched back met the damp sheets beneath her and she felt momentarily anaesthetised as she caught her breath. 

She groaned at how fatigued she felt, not having had such a tiring orgasm in a while, much less with just her fingers. 

While she was washing her hands, she thought of you, wondered if you’d ever touched yourself to the thought of her, and soon squarely came to the decision that she would pursue you. 

She’d made quite a mess of herself, and decided to also change her underwear before heading to bed. 

The next few days before the weekend approached, Wanda felt increasingly encouraged every time she interacted with you, especially after having kissed you on the cheek that night. She still felt that she’d gone a little too far, but you still seemed to really like her. 

She realised that she didn’t know as much about you as she’d like, and became increasingly enthusiastic about thst weekend when she’d be able to spend more time with you. 

On Friday, you and Wanda made plans for the weekend, and it was agreed that she would drive the both of you to the festival then back home to repay you for a few nights ago. 

Dressed in a sundress that reached below her knees and deciding to go with her hair down, Wanda nervously crossed the strip of grass that divided your two driveways and walked up to your front door. 

It was convenient that you were neighbours, but the space between the two of you left very little time for Wanda to soothe her own anxiety as she prepared for a day out together. 

You opened the front door and stepped through as if not trying to waste a moment to head out.

“Hi,” you said with a smile as you stepped onto the porch before turning to lock the front door. 

“Hi,” she answered and returned the polite smile when you turned back around, slightly nervous with her hands held in front of her body, holding her purse.

Wanda was suddenly overcome at your momentary undivided attention, feeling that if you scrutinised her just enough, you’d be able to read on her face what she had done to the thought of you that first night it happened, and nearly every night since. 

It was the first time she was seeing you since then beyond some short conversations in the driveway, and some paranoid part of her thought you secretly knew all she’d been doing. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you with your hair down,” you noted as we drove to the town square where the festival was taking place. “Did you curl it a little?”

Feeling suddenly self-conscious now that you’d noticed, Wanda took one hand off the wheel and played with the ends of her hair. “Um,” she hesitated. “I did — a little.”

“No, I mean, it’s really pretty, Ms Maximoff,” you quickly said in case she got the wrong idea.

Feeling that perhaps you might’ve been teasing, for whatever reason, Wanda looked over at you momentarily and found you looking over at her. You met her eyes with a small encouraging smile and Wanda looked back onto the road.

“Thank you,” she replied, a smile of her own slowly growing. “I don’t usually do anything with it because I’m either working or at home, and don’t often dress up for anything.” She kept her hair short for functionality reasons, partly, and also because she’d cut it after her divorce just to try something new and found some comfort in keeping the same hairstyle.

Once or twice, she tried to grow it out again, but it just seemed impractical for how often she kept her hair up or had it pushed back with a headband during work, and even at home.

It made her feel rather flattered that you paid mind to something like her hair, since for the most part Wanda saw herself as blending in with the rest of Westview’s docile and placid background, which was to say that she didn’t think there wasn’t anything particularly interesting about herself.

To have a fresh pair of eyes focus on her so much made sparks flutter about in her body. 

Her polite smile wavered slightly as more perverse thoughts overcame her. She wondered what lay beyond your still gaze that was both polite as your eyes crinkled at the sides and slightly girlish as your face seemed to glow when you smiled. 

Surely, no one suspected that she’d done all that she had to the thought of you — how wet the thought of you made her, the amount of times she moaned your name with her back arched or with her body sprawled across the cool sheets of her bed.

But she had done them all. 

Could the same be said for you, beyond an externality that no one else would suspect such things about? 

Wanda felt a wave of shame course through her — what was she doing, assuming such things about a college student, and projecting her own desires onto you?

But even that thrum of shame made her ache and she pressed her thighs together in her seat; she should’ve felt humiliated and ashamed for the thoughts she was having, but instead, she felt… thrilled, and in a way she hadn’t ever felt before. 

Upon arriving at the festival, and finding a good parking spot in a closer area designated for employees due to Wanda owning the shop that had provided so many of the booths with their bouquets and flower arrangements, the two of you decided on getting lunch first. 

Truthfully, Wanda had been so anxious about the upcoming day out with you that her nerves had been far too frenzied to allow her to stomach any food, or to feel any hunger to begin with. It was only until she passed a booth of fresh buttered corn that she’d realised she hadn’t eaten a thing all day, and that she was finally hungry.

Deciding on some deli sandwiches, you and Wanda took your food and drinks to a seating area beneath an oak tree at one of the parks. 

For a Spring day, it was particularly warm — likely because there was hardly any breeze at all. 

For the weather, Wanda was glad she was wearing a dress, and maybe she was just making it all up, but she could swear she’d seen your eyes running over her exposed legs, and even peeking down her dress. 

Maybe you were just curious about what she was wearing, but still, Wanda couldn’t control the way she felt her heart thump at the prospect that you were checking her out. 

The eyes of men had only ever made her feel preyed on, and whether she was anything less than mildly annoyed depended on whether she had enough patience to tolerate any of it. 

Sometimes she thought it was strange for her to feel so abhorrent towards men when she’d been able to marry Vision. She hadn’t felt this impatient and bored around him, and not even when they’d first met. 

She certainly wouldn’t call it abhorrent, but with how often women her age spoke about fantasies or fooling around with younger men or their handsome coworkers — even Agatha had a tendency to do this — it wasn’t uncommon for some to question her interest in remarrying or at the very least, finding a new partner. 

All this she told you as you ate together, aside from how the train of thought started with her realising how aroused she felt at the thought that you were checking her out. She was interested in sharing much more about herself and learning that much more about you. 

“Maybe you haven’t met the right guy yet,” you suggested helpfully. “A lot of people say the right one comes along when you’re not really looking.”

Seriously, though, for whatever reason, the idea of going through the motions of meeting a new man was a process Wanda felt herself dreading whenever she thought about it. She could imagine nothing worse than inviting a man into her home and introducing him to her children, him meeting her friends, being touched by a man, waking up next to one. 

“I don’t think I’m looking for any guy right now,” Wanda replied, pushing a tomato that had partially slipped from her sandwich back in between the bread. She looked up and found you were looking at her, perhaps trying to interpret what she was saying. 

While she had your rapt attention, she couldn’t help but suddenly ask, “Where did you meet your boyfriend?”

The question made you blush a little but you also laughed, as if what she was asking could be interpreted as irony. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you answered, replying politely for it had been a serious question albeit with the intention to probe into your love life. 

Wanda tried not to show any expression at your answer, and instead tapped the tip of her shoe against the grass beneath her seat idly as if to pace herself. The thought that you might have a boyfriend was one of the ideas that Wanda let float around in her head to rein her mind back to chastity when it wandered off, and she felt herself take in a small breath when you said you didn’t have one.

“I presume it would be far too much to balance now that you’ve moved away and are now doing work in a new town,” Wanda said then finished the last bite of her sandwich. 

You made a noise like agreement, but also as if you had more to say on the topic, and when Wanda looked at you, you seemed to be gauging whether to say more. You bit your tongue after taking too long to choose between asking if she herself was seeing anyone or saying that you weren’t interested in men at all. 

‘I suppose that’s true,’ is all you ended up saying. 

After lunch, you and Wanda decided to walk through the corn maze attraction because the both of you were interested in talking much more and moving your bodies without being distracted by the booths and festival games. 

It was quite fun to go through the maze with you. It was really rare that Wanda got time to do fun things like this with someone other than the twins — not that she didn’t enjoy spending that time with them, but she herself felt a little more like a child spending this kind of time with you, which wasn’t a liberty she very often had the chance to experience. 

A maze was the perfect thing to do with you, Wanda thought, for even taking the wrong turn meant spending more time with you as you walked back to the fork to try a different path, and neither of you were in a rush to finish, so it was more like a fun walk.

You also said that though the research position was interesting so far, it was a routine that didn’t allow for much enjoyment unless you went out of your way to do something new. 

Wanda sympathised, saying that much of her new milestones in life had come about that way — marriage, having children, and starting her business with Agatha. After saying it, she realised how depressing it sounded and even felt a little embarrassed talking about such things with you. You were young after all, and here she was rambling about how all of her life was a comfortable endless routine as if she were Sisyphus.

“You must think I’m rather boring,” Wanda said, looking down at the mess of hay, flattened onto the grass from all the people who’d trekked through the maze. Her tone sounded almost apologetic to her ears though she didn’t think she was trying to apologise for anything in particular.

“What?” you said, shocked. “What do you mean? No, I don’t.”

She laughed a little at your shock, but couldn’t help but feel that your response was a little naive. Once you grew up some more and experienced more of the world and met far more interesting people, Wanda was sure she’d only be a memory you’d look back on with some kind of pity, thinking, ‘What a sweet woman she was — such a shame she lived in such a dull town. After all, I could only stand living there for so long until my research period was over.’

“Well, I’m always doing all the same things,” Wanda explained. “I’ll probably be doing it for much longer too until the twins grow up and go off to college. I love the shop but I think I’d rather move elsewhere once they don’t need me in town.”

There was silence and Wanda looked over to you as you both turned a corner, and you looked to be a little confused, or at least thinking. 

“But,” you started, “how does that have anything to do with you being boring?”

“How does that not mean I’m boring?” Wanda replied though acutely aware of how strange she was sounding, arguing for self-deprecation. “I just mean there’s nothing particularly interesting that I do.”

Then she added, perhaps rambling out of a place of deep belief, “It’s different from you — you’re still young and pursuing your passions.”

The images of you and Dottie walking around the few times that Wanda had seen the two of you came to mind again. Even if there was a chance that you would be interested in women, and women that were older than you, Dottie seemed to be a better match for you. She was more talkative and though she was an elementary school teacher, she was still working in some form of schooling, which might interest you far more than flowers and single-motherhood, and she was younger than Wanda and, from the looks of it, seemed to have more free time to spend with you than she did. Plus, she hadn’t yet been married and didn’t have any children. 

Wanda could’ve been way over her head in two respects, and suddenly she felt a little foolish for how she’d been thinking of you — all this build-up in her mind when she didn’t suit you at all to begin with.

“But I think you’re interesting,” you reasoned. “I don’t think I’ve ever really put a lot of thought into what you do work-wise. Or your daily schedule.”

Then after a moment, when Wanda didn’t respond immediately, you added hesitantly, “But is that… something you’d expect people to consider? Or is that something you consider, usually?”

Wanda felt a kind of whiplash from the jelly you’d turned her legs into and the shame she then immediately felt for how shallow she must’ve seemed to you. “N-No,” she stuttered, speaking right away to not seem idiotic and just hoping to find the actual words she wanted to say while she was rambling nonsensically.

Truthfully, you didn’t think Wanda was being shallow at all, or that she was being overly concerned with hers and other people’s professions. You were also aware of the age difference between you and her, and how preferences and paths of life differed between ages; you were embarrassed at first, thinking that maybe you sounded far too naive, like a child with no grasp of real life or what really mattered to someone busy and with their own lives like she had.

Often, you thought you were way over your head, crushing on and fantasising about an older woman with her own business and family, with her own priorities who was now settled down and likely too busy to think about any romantic partner.

Much less with a college girl.

And wasn’t Wanda’s ex-husband a lawyer?

College girls weren’t her type.

“No,” she started again, “I just thought… We’re different in that respect, so I thought it might have maybe… bored you.”

If Wanda hadn’t also been looking down at the ground, listening to the muffled sounds of hay and grass beneath her shoes, she would’ve looked up and been able to see that you looked slightly flustered, for you felt that you were in a position of being confessed to.

It didn’t go over your head how Wanda seemed rather concerned about how you viewed her, and worried that you might think that she was boring. The very idea, whatever its context was, that she thought so often about you and your perspective of her made your knees feel a little mushy.

“But… You think I’m interesting?” Wanda then asked, raising her head and looking at you.

You had been so adamant to prove her wrong that you’d sort of just blurted it out. You thought you’d gone a little too far, but you looked over to Wanda and met her eyes.

It could’ve been the way the sun peeked from above the hay maze and cast its light upon Wanda’s face, but her eyes seemed particularly lit up, her expression looking even a bit hopeful as she asked you for confirmation.

“Um, yes, I do,” you confirmed with a smile. “I think you’re really nice and interesting and sometimes I see you out in the driveway with your twins and you seem like such a sweet family, and I’ve been curious about you since you said you owned a floral shop and brought me flowers.”

Well, now you were rambling.

Then you said something really stupid.

“Also, um… I think you’re a really pretty woman. I mean, ‘gorgeous’ is a better word. I hardly ever hear ‘pretty woman’ as a compliment, though I meant it to be true. It just sounds odd as a word combination.”

Wanda felt cheeks heating up and she was grateful that the two of you had finally found the end of the maze, for she felt like she needed to take a breath. But she couldn’t not respond to something like that right away. She swallowed and reached for your forearm and brushed her fingers against your skin to reassure you when you looked away, then dropped her hand.

She knew she should be saying something in response, especially now that she’d gotten your attention back by touching your arm, but she couldn’t come up with any words, just staring into your eyes with lips slightly parted but completely silent.

“Can we play one of the games?” you then offered, and Wanda blinked out of her stupor, remembering where the two of you were.

“A game?” she asked, still slightly disoriented. 

You continued walking away from the maze exit and headed towards the festival, Wanda following beside you.

“Maybe I can win you a stuffed toy,” you suggested, looking around at the game booths. 

Wanda smiled at the glint of determination in your eyes and stepped closer to you. “Maybe I’ll win you a toy first,” she challenged lightheartedly, looking for any excuse to interact with you more. 

The rest of the time you moved between different games, and you and Wanda didn’t talk so much about things other than the games you were playing and some lighthearted memories that came up as you played. 

Both of you were enjoying your time, but Wanda particularly, who’d never really done anything during such town events aside from help organise and sometimes take the twins out for them. 

Her cheeks were sore from smiling and laughing by the time you were the one to win a prize first.

You handed her a stuffed blue jellyfish, with thin curly tentacles and a soft round body, spotted with white and pale blue. 

“It’s so cute,” Wanda said with a tiny smile, squishing the soft body of the jellyfish gently and running her eyes over it in detail as the two of you walked to her car. 

She insisted, “I was really close to getting you the giraffe… It was luck that you won first — not skill.”

“Maybe I can win you the ability not to be a sore loser next time,” you poked. 

Then as she raised her head, seeing her car come into closer view, it dawned on her that she’d be dropping you off at home and your time together would be over, but she wasn’t quite ready to end the day. 

She stopped at the driver’s side and spoke to you over the roof of the car, “Do you want to take a look inside the shop? Maybe I can help you put together a bouquet, or any kind of decorative piece for your place.”

She added, to ensure she didn’t sound pushy, “Only if you want to and if you have time. I’m sure you had other things planned for the day.”

You beamed at the suggestion and nodded with a smile. “I’d love to see the shop,” you said enthusiastically.

“I’m excited to see more of where you are and what you get up to for so much of your day,” you confessed, your hands folded in between your thighs. “I remember when I visited, and it was gorgeous at the front of the store.”

Wanda thought it was so sweet how you thought her little shop was so fantastical. “It’s a bit more of a mess in the back and less presentation-worthy, but I’m also looking forward to showing you around,” she replied, looking over to you and feeling flustered at how genuinely happy you were. 

The feeling that you were truly eager to spend more time with her made Wanda all but melt in her seat. 

It was beginning to darken, a soft purple-pink tint coming over the sky as the sun began to set. It was still a little light outside, and the pink hue of the sun cast in a nice way against your skin. 

Wanda was feeling nice thinking about the fact that you’d been out together for a while now, and that you’d be out for longer still. 

“I don’t do this for just any old neighbour, you know,” Wanda teased, looking at you from the corner of her eye as she unlocked the front door. 

“Just a few?” you joked back. 

Without hesitation, Wanda replied and looked over at you with a little grin, “Just you.”

She didn’t seem to think very much of what she said, though it struck you as rather flirtatious and made you feel like a special figure in her life, since she walked ahead right after saying it, leaving you to follow behind after breaking from your momentary stupor. 

It felt so peaceful to be at the shop in the evening with you, telling you about things like how to store freshly cut flowers and how she kept them preserved upon shipments and how they did deliveries.

Wanda had indeed been interested in flowers and plants and owning a floral shop when she first opened it with Agatha, but much of the passion had turned into businesslike concern, and oftentimes Wanda didn’t have much time to take a step back and enjoy what she was doing.

But your fresh pair of eyes and genuine curiosity, asking her questions like how she knew she wanted to open a shop and how long she’d known Agatha for, made Wanda see everything like she had when she first opened the shop, and your curiosity and interest reminded her closely of the kind of passion she’d gotten distracted from once she got used to Westview’s repetition.

Wanda kept viewing herself from the shoes of Agatha if she had also been in the shop somewhere, watching as she giggled at your playful jokes and blushed at your undivided attention, which didn’t necessarily have to be interpreted as flirtatious for Wanda to feel flustered by.

Sometimes all you had to do was look at her while Wanda wasn’t looking so when she turned to look at you, your eyes were on her rather than on whatever she was trying to show you.

She kept thinking of Agatha especially because Wanda wondered whether she was making all of it up, and if all of it truly was platonic, and she wondered what her closest friend would say about all of this.

But the more Wanda felt herself stuttering around you or making some excuse to stand close to you or brush against you, she could no longer trust even her interpretations of what a third-party might say about things.

But the most delusional of it all, Wanda thought, was that she kept thinking of the image of you with Dottie walking down the shopping district during the times where Wanda was too busy to spend time with you and talk with you as much as she wanted.

She kept recalling the feeling of how tired she’d been coming out of work, the sun just about to start setting, and looking forward to getting home after picking up the twins. She had been at a stoplight thinking of what to make for dinner when you passed in front her along the crosswalk, Dottie at your side as you spoke with each other.

She was always wearing something pretty, her taste in clothing professional and delicate as an elementary school teacher, her blonde hair always curled or put up.

From what she’d heard from the few times she attended the town meetings — not that Dottie was so infamous but rather because she was friends with some of the mothers who attended — Dottie was the daughter of old-money parents who owned acres of rural farmland a few hours away from New Jersey.

Dottie was everything Wanda wasn’t.

Were you doing things like this with her too? 

Were you only being polite?

While the two of you were putting together a little vase of different coloured roses together for your living room, Wanda quietly spoke up. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…” she started quietly, kind of hoping you might suddenly change the topic, leaving the question forgotten. 

But instead you looked up from trimming a stem of a white rose, your curiosity piqued as you anticipated her question.

Wanda felt your eyes on her and she kept her hands busy carefully removing the thorns of the roses as she continued. “Not to sound… strange…” she said, trying her best to keep her voice steady and unsuspecting. “But a few weeks ago I saw you with Dottie, and I was just curious about how you knew her.”

She took a risk and looked up from the flower she was holding.

“She was Tommy and Billy’s teacher once, and they still go to that elementary school, so I sometimes see her around when I drop them off and pick them up,” she added, to sound like she was asking for a practical reason.

“Oh,” you said, sounding a little surprised to hear her name brought up. “She’s a friend of the professor I’m doing research with. I… can’t really remember how they know each other. I think it might be through Dottie’s parents.”

A wave of cool relief washed over Wanda and she looked back down to the roses and started dethorning the other one to keep her face down in case she accidentally looked a bit elated.

“I see,” she answered as nonchalantly as she could, though she could hear a waver of relief evident in the way she breathed out. “It’s a small town.” But Wanda still couldn’t help but press on a little, feeling not yet fully satisfied by your answer.

“But… You don’t see her… often, do you?” she asked, looking up again just to see your expression, and hoping you didn’t seem suspicious about why she was asking.

You shook your head, just focused on trimming the stems the right length and carefully placing them in a pleasing way amongst each other in the vase Wanda provided. “No, not often at all,” you said. “Usually I see her when we’re meeting up together to have coffee with my professor.”

“So it’s a professional relationship?”

To that, you finally looked up from the flowers in your hands and looked over at Wanda, who immediately internally cursed herself for not watching her mouth; she’d gone a little too far, just asking you whatever came to mind.

“I don’t even know if it would be considered professional, per se,” you answered, your hands lowering a little as you focused on giving an answer. “She doesn’t have anything to do with my research. I think it’s just circumstantial — that’s a good way to describe it.”

Wanda swallowed and looked back down to the roses, immediately ready to drop the subject and move onto something else after realising just how overly curious she’d been sounding. 

Suddenly you were feeling a little awkward that Wanda had been talking about professional relationships and networking and all. All of that felt like a different world, and there was still a lot that Wanda considered in life that you didn’t.

You didn’t even think you had professional relationships, really, aside from your professor.

It felt like every time she brought up something you didn’t understand, the difference in age between the two of you became all the more evident, and you felt yourself becoming more and more childish and inexperienced in her eyes.

“Um, by the way… Ms Maximoff, I wanted to say that I felt kind of nervous to ask you to go out this weekend,” you confessed, and from the corner of your eye you saw Wanda raise her head and look at you. “I thought it might’ve been… I don’t know, like, a little stupid, even.”

“What?” she asked, surprised. She set her rose down and turned her body a little to look at you. The tone of her voice made you raise your head and meet her eyes. “Stupid? Why?”

You weren’t exactly sure what you had hoped to accomplish by confessing that, but you almost just felt like apologising somewhat for doing something stupid or childish before Wanda could realise it for herself.

Maybe you’d seem a little less naive if you just admitted to it right away, because honestly, you really did think you had been sounding a little stupid to ask her out for the festival, and often wondered if she only ever said yes to you out of pity because of how young you were.

Sometimes when she apologised for seeming standoffish or distant, you couldn’t help but feel that she was just trying to tend to a child’s tantrum.

But her response wasn’t as you initially thought it would be, and she seemed truly shocked at your confession, so you felt a little flustered and you now felt that you had been overdramatic.

“I-I just mean… Well…” 

As you stuttered for a response, you realised you had no excuse to make, and honestly, Wanda had only ever been kind to you, so you had no reason to try and lie. So you thought to tell the truth.

“It sometimes feels like I don’t really have a grasp on your life, and like you may just be too busy or disinterested to do stuff like go out to a festival to get driven to work or…”

You trailed off to find the rest of your words, and you saw Wanda continuing to watch your face from the corner of your eye. One of her arms was resting on the counter beside her, her hands fidgeting with each other’s fingertips in front of her stomach.

“I think maybe I didn’t really consider that you might feel more comfortable not knowing your neighbours so much, and that even though it might be true you don’t mind when I do you favours or ask to do things in our freetime, I know that you’re also busy and preoccupied with things and… Just more comfortable with how things had been.”

Well… Dottie certainly didn’t get any of this kind of confession from you.

Wanda took a tiny step forward. She knew what you were trying to get at; there was an age difference between the two of you and sometimes the difference casted doubt on whether you were both thinking the same thing, always wondering how you were perceived by the other.

“I know how you feel,” she reassured, reaching out to brush her hand against your arm against the better half of her mind telling herself it was a bad idea to move closer to you. She fidgeted with her fingers again and took a little breath, wanting to be open and honest like you just had been.

She confessed, “I think that sometimes I might be projecting myself onto you.”

The words shocked you and you looked up and met her eyes, surprised to see her looking a little nervous as she spoke. You didn’t think anything about your relationship with Wanda had the power to make her nervous; she always just seemed like she had everything so well-structured.

She owned a business with a close friend and was a single mother of two young boys and lived in a nice house. She was beautiful and kind, and the idea that she might be nervous in any sense while interacting with you surprised you greatly.

“Sometimes I can’t exactly tell if I’m… understanding things correctly…” she added, swallowing hard. The momentary silence between responses thrummed against her eardrums, and the light from the ceiling became strangely brighter and looked as light often did when she was down with a terrible flu.

The implication was heavy, and she was worried about how you would take it. She tried to immediately relax herself by thinking that you’d only pick up on what she was implying if you yourself had been thinking similar things, but there was always a chance that you’d understand what she was saying and not feel the same way.

She could hardly bear the thought of confessing unreciprocated, for she foresaw absolutely no way to come back from that kind of rejection… She would look like such a fool, and she wouldn’t know how to handle the kinds of things she did and felt because of you.

The things she felt for you had been different from anything before, and if you rejected her, there was no way for her to deal with this new kind of awakening, and she was certain there’d be no other chance to be attracted to someone in the way she was with you.

“I think maybe I’m in over my head, Ms Maximoff…” you said quietly.

Suddenly Wanda was overcome with the possibility of what you were also implying, and the very possibility that you meant what she thought was overcoming the fear of being rejected or being wrong.

All she’d been doing was fantasising and mulling over possibilities and uncertainties about how she was feeling and how you might be feeling, and now the possibility that you might feel the same way, that she wasn’t just making it all up the whole time, seemed more real and tangible than it ever had been before.

She knew she was thinking irrationally.

There were better ways to do this.

But she could only really think of doing one thing.

She placed her hand atop the counter at the midway point between the both of you and she stepped forward, tipping her head to the side ever so slightly as she moved closer. Her breath felt warm against her own lips as her exhales reached your upper lip, and your eyes looked lidded and your face slightly flushed before she closed her eyes and met her soft lips with yours.

You immediately put your rose down and placed your hand on Wanda’s lower back, pulling her closer, and Wanda felt like she could collapse into your body at the gesture.

You really did want her. She hadn’t been making it up.

Though she’d been married before, this felt like the first time anyone truly reciprocated her feelings. Maybe that was because what feelings she had for Vision weren’t anything like the ones she had for you.

She was thirty-two and feeling this way for the first time; she felt like she’d really been missing out.

It didn’t take very long for the slow and hesitant kiss to grow heated, perhaps due to its confirmation of mutual attraction and interest. Your arm wrapped around Wanda’s waist and your other hand moved up the curve of her spine, up to where her sundress exposed her upper back, your fingers entangling themselves in her hair as they moved up her neck.

Wanda sighed into your mouth, listening to the way it merged with your tiny moans and exhales. She had her own arm wrapped around your waist too, but with her other hand caressing your cheek, her thumb brushing against your soft skin, encouraging you.

She felt her lower back press against the edge of the counter and she realised you were pressing your body flush against hers.

Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, her body feeling warm all over.

In her sundress with her arms and upper back and chest exposed, every brush you had against her skin sent shockwaves up her spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake as a familiar ache began to form deep in Wanda’s lower stomach, causing her to roll her hips forward, knocking them gently against your own.

Maybe when her mind was less fogged up and she could think of a world past the soft caresses of your hands and your delicate moans, she would think about how right Agatha was about being with women.

You were so delicate and gentle, and not only because she thought that that was just the kind of person you were, but also because of the smooth slope of your shoulders and how your arms slotted perfectly beneath hers. Your face was smooth and free of stubble and your lips were so soft, your sweet moans were enough to make Wanda weak in the knees, and you smelled so nice.

And it did really feel like you were touching her as if she were an extension of yourself.

“Ms Maximoff…” you sighed, sounding desperate as your hand fell away from cradling the back of her head and sending a wave of throbbing arousal down between Wanda’s thighs. Her eyebrows furrowed together and she pulled you closer, grasping at the hem of your shirt as her fingers tightened around the fabric, feeling just as desperate.

Then suddenly you yelped and pulled away from her lips, your body unwrapping from Wanda’s. Wanda’s eyes darted across your face and she worried for a moment that she accidentally bit your lip. 

“Y/N, a-are you okay? Did I hurt you?” she asked, panicked as she looked at you. Then she noticed that you had brought your hand up, surveying it under the light of the ceiling. “What happened?”

“U-Um, I accidentally put my finger down on a thorn,” you said, looking up at her sheepishly and showing her the curved thorn deep in your index finger.

Wanda stepped close again and wrapped her fingers around your wrist to get a better look at it. “Oh, dear… That’s quite deep…” she said, her voice low as she turned your finger around in the light to get a better look at it.

“Don’t worry — this happens quite often,” she reassured, looking over at you with a smile. The eye contact made you blush and you couldn’t help the way your eyes flickered down to her lips that now looked slightly swollen with how frantic your kiss had been.

The same flushed expression came over Wanda’s face but she looked back down to your finger and carefully laid it against her hand. “Don’t move,” she said. “I’ll take it out, but I want to make sure it doesn’t break off in your finger.”

Inching your hand closer to her eyes and into the light, her other hand came up and carefully pulled out the thorn, pulling it in the direction of its curve. A tiny bead of blood came from where it had pierced your skin. 

“Just a moment. Keep your finger upright,” she said, letting go of your wrist slowly so as to not move it from its place midair. She then turned and bent over a little to rummage under the counter.

You couldn’t help the way your chest fluttered at the sight of her so focused on taking care of you. 

She straightened again, now holding a bandaid, and laid the back of your hand against her fingers. With slightly furrowed eyebrows, she unwrapped the bandage and carefully secured it around your finger.

“There we go…” she said softly. “Not too tight?”

Heat rose to your cheeks when she looked back up to you again and you looked away with a shy smile and shook your head. “No, it’s just perfect.”

“Good.”

Then she threw the garbage out and brushed the thorns off of the countertop and into a nearby garbage can she lifted to the edge of the counter. She set it back down on the ground then turned back over to you nervously, brushing down the front of her dress.

She bit her bottom lip awkwardly, then quietly reasoned, “Maybe it was time we headed back home, anyway.”

You looked up from the floor and met her eyes with a little nod and a polite smile.

But neither of you moved from your spots, and Wanda felt a familiar impatience and gnawing urge pulsing inside her again.

Wanda was right in her observations of you — you were rather shy, and a submissive lover. You were nervous and hesitant, and after kissing you, she was sure you’d been with women before. That excited her, and she heard her own soft trembling exhales through her parted lips as she observed the hesitant look in your eyes, anticipating her next move.

You were still nervous, Wanda could tell. 

So young and hesitant and innocent and polite…

All she felt then and there was that she needed your hands on her, and Wanda stepped forward again, kissing you with immediate heated passion as her hands ran up to the sides of your face, caressing you gently. 

Your hands came to her hips and you attempted to wrap your arms around her waist until Wanda stumbled forwards, pushing you into the back room where it was more spacious. 

“Mmm, Y/N…” she sighed into your open mouth, pushing your lower back against one of the counters in the back room.

Your hands were on her hips, slowly rounding to her lower back, but it was still not enough. She took hold of your wrist and brought your hand to her breast, and you squeezed as if partial to the feeling of how soft her breast was in your hand, mindful of the way her body arched into yours, her body pressed against your hips. 

She felt herself throbbing when your other hand found its way beneath her dress, groping her ass and even tucking two fingers past her underwear to feel the soft, pliable flesh beneath the fabric. 

“Ms Maximoff, is this okay?” you asked, your words trembling for how you spoke them between heated kisses. The hesitant tone spoken with your soft voice juxtaposed the way you groped her ass, and Wanda felt like she was already practically nearing orgasm.

“That’s just fine, sweetheart,” she replied, her fingers snaking down your jawline to hold your head in place as she tipped her head to the side and deepened the kiss. 

Your fingernails pressed into her ass and she gasped, her body tensing momentarily.

Your tongues briefly brushed against each other and at the sensation, Wanda couldn’t get enough. She ran the tip of her tongue over your teeth then delved past your lips. 

Warm exhales and breathy sighs echoed between your open mouths, meshed together in the exchange of saliva as your thumb tugged down the neckline of Wanda’s dress along with her bra so you could thumb at her hardened nipple, your other hand taking another handful of her ass.  

Wanda had never felt more sexually desired, your hands on her body making her feel that you were thoroughly exploring her out of deep interest and pulsing arousal. 

It was no obligation or passive act. 

It was desire and craving, and you wanted her. 

Then she felt the urge to have her mouth on your cunt, to feel you pulsating around her tongue, to feel your warm, slick folds against her lips. She wanted to taste how wet she made you and how badly you wanted her, to swallow your cum and have your flavour spread across her tongue. 

She’d never pleasured another woman before, but all she felt was hunger, so much of it that it was painful, and that desire surpassed any need for prior knowledge. 

In a few moments your thighs were wrapped securely around her head, Wanda on her knees beneath you as she noisily ate you out. The intermingled noises of her moans and the sound of your soaking pussy made your heart race. 

She was far messier and dominating than you’d initially imagined, and you could hardly catch your breath. Each moment you thought you’d caught up, she’d want more, grabbing at you, delving her tongue into your opening or rubbing her flattened tongue against your aching clit. 

She gripped at your hips, pulling you down onto her face so desperately you worried you might hurt her.

She opened her eyes and you saw her meet your gaze behind the mess of her dirty blonde hair, and you reached down and carefully brushed strands of her hair away from her forehead, revealing green eyes darkened by carnal desire.  

The way she stared at you sent chills up your spine, causing you to roll your hips forward and bump your clit against the tip of her nose. She looked wildly predatorial, her relentless tongue and hot breath paired with a melody of deep groans and light girlish moans almost animalistic. 

Wanda saw your hand reach down, fingers twitching in hesitation, before she interlaced her fingers with yours and brought your hand to the back of her head. She felt very literally… hungry — she craved you.

You nudged her mouth against your cunt and Wanda mewled in pleasure, feeling caressed as if she were being pet. Her hair was smooth, and feeling it now, you found she truly had thick hair and it wasn’t just the way she styled it in the mornings. 

There were a lot of things you were newly finding about Wanda, new ways of viewing and understanding her that would make her different from how you had understood her before. 

You’d never be able to see her without knowing how she looked on her knees, eating your pussy in her shop in the early evening, never being able to unfeel how her hands were firm and confident as they rubbed your thighs and squeezed your hips. But her fingers were delicate and careful, likely from her profession handling flowers. 

You knew her touch.

Wanda knew exactly when you came — she felt it first before she heard it with how your thighs were wrapped around her ears. She could feel you contract and begin to pulse against her tongue, felt the way your hips chased her mouth and how your hands grasped at her desperately. She knew you had reached your peak because it reminded her so much of herself, and she helped you through your orgasm and through its aftershocks as she had for herself during the times she had come to the thought of you.

She carefully licked around your cunt and your inner thighs, cleaning you up as she blindly felt for your pants and underwear before sliding it back up your thighs while you caught your breath above.

When she buttoned your pants you helped her stand up and you adjusted her dress for her. Wanda leaned flush against your body with a little smile, watching your face as you straightened her dress, feeling your gentle hands rub against her.

Then you met her eyes and wrapped your arms around her waist, returning a smile.

She leaned forward and kissed you chastly, just feeling your soft, warm lips against her own, one of your hands moving up her back and rubbing softly. 

“Was I good…?” Wanda asked a little nervously as she pulled away and looked at you. The tip of her nose brushed against yours lightly.

You nodded.

“It felt amazing…” you answered honestly, your fingers making shapes against her lower back through her dress. “I think, also, that I’m really attracted to you.”

Wanda laughed, feeling her cheeks heat up, and she buried her face in your neck.

After a moment, she added shyly, “That was my first time.”

Shocked, you turned your head a little to look at her but Wanda kept her face hidden in the crook of your neck and in the curtain of your soft hair. 

“I couldn’t tell,” you told her.

“Are you being sarcastic…?” Wanda asked, looking down to play with the ends of your hair. “I can’t see your face.”

“I’m not being sarcastic.”

Wanda blushed, uttering a small ‘Thank you’ before she raised her head, fidgeting with your shirt a little. 

“Shall I drive you back home now…?” she asked, looking up hesitantly.

You swallowed, feeling an ache of disappointment and longing at the thought of ending the night without getting to talk with Wanda more or even make her feel good. But if that had been her first time, she’d already done quite a bit.

You didn’t want to push her further or pressure her, so you nodded once silently in spite of how badly you wanted to be able to touch her too.

During the drive back, Wanda felt a dull ache behind her exhilaration, forcing her to admit that she was still not entirely satisfied. She’d underestimated the significance behind how much she fantasised about you, and how much desire truly went behind how strongly and how often she thought of you.

She nervously tapped against the steering wheel with her index finger and she bit down on her bottom lip.

“Was that…” She swallowed and carefully picked out the right words as she saw you turn to look at her from the corner of her eye. “Were you looking for… just a one-time thing…?”

Wanda couldn’t stop herself from turning and looking at your expression when there was perhaps a millisecond’s worth of silence after her question.

You felt a weight drop in your stomach and your fingers pressed against the flower vase sitting in your lap. 

How would you come off if Wanda had been looking for something casual and you told her you weren’t? You would look childish and naive and disrespectful of her busy life.

You considered lying or perhaps answering nonchalantly, but tonight was the first time she’d ever gone down on another woman, and you felt you owed her honesty.

And… after all, it was still Wanda. She wasn’t someone to be scared of.

As Wanda turned into the neighbourhood, you answered, “I want to be closer to you than that. I don’t think I would want something like that to be a one-time thing.”

Wanda took in a sharp inhale when her chest tightened and filled with adrenaline, and she squeezed her hands around her steering wheel. She pulled into her driveway and parked the car.

Worried about the silence that would come over the both of you if she turned the car off, Wanda kept the car running as she ran her hands down her thighs as she gathered her confidence to speak again.

She turned to you and felt her heart pounding against her chest, threatening to suffocate her, when you turned to meet her eyes.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked directly. 

Wanda’s hands laid in fists atop her lap as she regarded you, her posture straight and her shoulders rising and falling in tiny rhythmic motions as she steadied her breathing. From the dim lighting of her driveway from the light above her garage, you could see her eyebrows very slightly furrowed and her eyes gleaming with a nervous vulnerability, her expression patient and waiting for your answer.

You nodded once. 

You stuttered when you tried to speak, then tried a second time, uttering a tiny, “Yes, I’d like that.”

The motions of following behind Wanda as she walked up her porch and unlocked the front door were mechanical and you watched her from behind, wishing desperately to know what was running through her mind. 

There was a soft warm light coming from the living room that grew slowly brighter when the front door was closed behind you and your eyes adjusted to the gentle lighting of her house. This was the first time you’d ever been inside.

You looked around at the decor and the evidence of Tommy and Billy’s presence that remained even when they were with their father — their shoes were put away on a rack, some of their schoolwork on the small table by the front door, and their jackets hung on the coat rack. 

“Are you thirsty or hungry for anything?” Wanda asked, evidently a little nervous.

You saw her take a breath and hold it when you set the vase down on the table where she had placed her keys to hold her hand. “I want to be with you, Ms Maximoff,” you said sincerely.

She swallowed and squeezed your hand and gave a little nod.

“I want to be with you too,” she replied, a little smile coming onto her face when you seemed to respond positively to her answer. She led you upstairs and you walked up beside her for how nervous she still seemed, and so you wanted to be close with her rather than following behind. 

Wanda closed the bedroom door behind her and with the bedroom curtains left open enough to have the room illuminated by the evening, none of you turned any other lights on. She turned around to face you once she came to her bed, and her hands nervously came to the waistband of your pants, fidgeting a little.

“Are you nervous…?” you asked her quietly, stepping closer so her hands were caught between your bodies.

She looked up and nodded silently.

Then she said, her voice small, “What if I’m not good at this?”

You ached at her evident insecurity and unfamiliarity around being so vulnerable. 

Your hand reached up to brush her hair back and you kissed her temple and murmured, “Not good at what?”

“At… this — making you feel good and being close with you, and connecting with you. I’ve never felt…” Wanda’s breath trembled and she swallowed.

She took a little breath. 

“I really like you, Y/N,” she explained, her gaze falling to your shoulder and your body pressed flush against hers. “I want to be good at this…”

“No,” you protested softly and pulled your head back to look at her. “That’s not really how it works, Ms Maximoff…”

She explored your soft gaze, curious about what you would say but also caught up in how kind and patient your eyes were. 

“You don’t really know how to do these things,” you reassured softly, “you just feel it.”

Wanda has always known what to do with things, and if she didn’t, there was someone who did know. Her marriage was all about expectation and filling roles as parents and as spouses, and her life, more or less, was about living through a planned schedule, doing things in order to be good at them and doing them right.

Was it okay to mess up?

Was it okay for her to do something just because she wanted to? She’d never been well-acquainted with the feeling of wanting something for herself to begin with.

“Can you call me by my first name?’” Wanda asked. 

You nodded and smiled at the humour of her request. 

She smiled in return and blushed before stepping back and allowing her hands some room to begin taking your clothes off.

You laid Wanda onto her back once her dress slipped from her shoulders, revealing her smooth skin and the contours and curves of her body. 

Wanda felt extraordinarily sensitive to your every touch, unable to take her eyes away from the way your hands moved across her skin; it wasn’t enough to just feel the way your palms glided across her sides, your thumbs pressing into the contours of her obliques as you kissed down to her belly button, then her thighs, her calves, and her ankles when you bent her legs slightly moving back up her body — she had to see it too. 

“Can I take your bra off?” you asked, looking up at her.

Wanda nodded and guided your hands to her back where her bra strap was, her back arching from the bed to allow you some space. She felt a surge of nerves course through her stomach when you took her bra off.

It had been so long since she was intimate with anyone, and even longer since she was with someone she felt engaged with, but it was the first time she was with someone she was truly interested in and attracted to.

For the first time, with your eyes running over her naked body, Wanda felt insecure about herself in a way she hadn’t previously; she was much older than you, and she started thinking about the other girls you must’ve been with.

None of them had ever been married or had children, and Wanda suddenly felt a dread come over her, feeling that she and her body were less attractive because of her age and what she’d done that neither you nor your previous sexual partners had.

But in spite of her anxiety, what she worried about wasn’t indicative at all in the way you continued to kiss her and caress her.

Your lips wrapped around one of her nipples, your hand coming to massage her other breast, and Wanda’s head lolled to the side atop her pillow, overcome by the feeling of being ravished and spoiled. 

Then you moved up and began kissing her neck, and if you bit her, you did it softly, taking just a little of her skin between your teeth and nipping softly. She laughed breathily when you tugged at her earlobe with your teeth.

She loved the feeling of your weight on her body — a physical, tangible reminder of your presence, symbolic of how she had surpassed the period of fantasy and yearning.

“Get on your back,” Wanda told you, running the tips of her fingers down the curve of your spine.

While you adjusted your position, Wanda sat up and leaned over the edge of the bed and rummaged somewhere you couldn’t see. She sat back up and laid beside you, a translucent purple dildo in her hand. 

Heat immediately rose to your cheeks and you imagined Wanda rolling her hips into it, slowly slipping herself down, and moaning as she fucked the faux cock. You even dared to imagine she fantasised about you. 

“Can I use this on you?” she asked, holding it up for you to survey the size.

The very sight of Wanda holding a dildo in her hand, asking you for your permission for her to fuck you with it, her green eyes curiously exploring your expression, her naked body pressed against yours so her breasts brushed against your upper arm…

You had to blink a few times to make sure you weren’t just dreaming it all up, napping on the couch of your place before heading out to the festival.

Wanda moved closer and kissed your cheek. “I can be gentle with you,” she reassured. “If that’s what you’re worried about…”

“I’m not worried.”

“Really?” she asked, teasing, lifting her head to meet your eyes. “You haven’t said yes yet.”

You immediately nodded, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Is that a yes?” Wanda pressed, feigning curiosity with furrowed eyebrows.

“Y-Yes,” you practically choked out, stunned at her sudden display of playfulness. 

She leaned back to where she had reached down before and came back up with a bottle of lube. Placing the dildo between your hips, Wanda asked for you to lather it on, holding herself up beside you and kissing up your shoulder and neck as you pumped your hand around the faux cock.

“As much as you want,” she purred. “I want to make sure you feel comfortable.”

You shifted your positioning a little so Wanda could have a better range of motion. One of your legs was perched up and your legs were parted, and you were laying back against a pillow for just a little elevation.

“Tell me if it hurts or if I should slow down, okay?” Wanda asked, nudging the tip of her nose against your cheekbone softly. She was taken by the urge to take care of you, to keep her body as close to you as possible, to feel your bare flesh against her own.

She really did think you were so sweet and precious, and the urge to care for you came stronger than it ever had before. 

She wanted to make you feel good. 

“Is this feeling okay, Y/N?” she asked, her other hand rubbing up and down your upper arm. 

Your eyes were shut, allowing you to fully take in the scent of Wanda’s laundry and her hair and her perfume. The soft sounds of her little moans and noises as she made careful efforts to enter and tease you sent chills up your spine and made you throb. 

“Th-That feels really good, M–”

You corrected yourself: “Wanda.”

A little flutter resounded in your chest at the feeling of calling her by her first name — it felt so personal. 

“That’s good, Y/N,” she cooed softly. “You’ve nearly taken half. It’s a big stretch, huh…?” You hesitated to nod; it was a big stretch, but it wasn’t too much, and you didn’t want Wanda to stop. 

“But you’re a big girl, right…?” she asked, and you immediately opened your eyes at her wording and the soft coo of her voice.

“I- Yes, I… I am.”

You watched as Wanda took her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes running down your body as her wrist curled and twisted back and forth, each time slowly pressing further into you. Her forearm muscle flexed with each movement and you could hear her breaths begin to quicken.

“Can I confess something a little embarrassing…?” Wanda spoke after a few moments of intimate silence, and you looked up from her forearm to her face.

When you met her eyes with patient curiosity, she continued. “I’ve pleasured myself to the thought of you many times, but I’ve never used this,” she told you. “I suppose I couldn’t imagine you in its place. It feels far more fitting to hold it.”

Heat rose to your cheeks and your breath hitched.

Wanda’s eyebrows raised and you felt a slightly forceful thrust, causing you to whimper. “Did you like hearing about that? I pulled out just a little and you’ve made quite the mess around it…”

The way her eyes scrutinised you, the focus in her expression, made you feel like she was observing you in great detail, feeling that her interest was sincerely piqued as much as she was aroused.

Then, with one more thrust, you felt the coolness of Wanda’s fingers pressed against your warm folds, and you knew she was entirely in. 

“Does that feel good, Y/N?” she asked, settling herself more comfortably beside you so she was sitting up, your head lying in the crook of her neck. Her arm was wrapped around your head with her elbow keeping her up, her hand stroking your head softly.

You felt like you were struggling to get words out with the size of Wanda’s cock inside of you, along with the gentle and tantalising way she entered and pulled out. She was practically cradling you against her as she maintained steady motion, and you felt as if you were being babied.

“Th-That feels really good…” you mumbled.

“Oh, I’m so glad, sweetheart…” She began petting the side of your head and you mewled.

You watched through hooded eyes Wanda’s focused expression as she continued her soft thrusts, the positioning of your bodies making the act look almost masturbatory with how your bodies laid together, meshed.

“I had a feeling this would be the pace you preferred, Y/N,” Wanda said, her voice a soft mumble, her voice now sounding raspy with how low she was speaking. “If I’m honest… I thought a lot about what kinds of things you might like… I always enjoyed thinking that you were a careful lover, and shy…”

Even though she spoke at a hushed volume, you could hear her soft laboured breaths from her stern efforts to keep her arm at a steady pace, and often you looked down to see her forearm muscles flex subtly beneath her smooth pale skin.

“I thought about that all the time,” she confessed, a little moan passing her lips as the recollection. “I thought about how… polite and delicate you were, and your sweet smile and how kind you were to me. I thought that must mean you were quite accommodating in the bedroom, but I just wasn’t able to allow my mind to wander that far, thinking about what you might be able to do for me. I just kept thinking about what you’d let me do, and that soft little blush on your cheeks…”

She looked up at you and met your eyes. Hers crinkled at the sides when she looked over your expression, and when she smiled, the faint hints of dimples on either side of her smile made your heart skip about a dozen beats.

“The kind of blush you have right now…” she whispered. 

“I wish you could see how you look,” she added, and you could feel her speeding her thrusts up, a new desperation in her efforts as you felt her move closer to you. Her hips knocked against the side of your thigh and her hardened nipples grazed against your upper arm.

Her breathing became laboured, and you felt yourself in a trance just looking into Wanda’s eyes, feeling pressure steadily build between your thighs she quickened her pace. 

It was almost a little embarrassing hearing how wet you were, listening to how you stretched open each time Wanda thrusted her cock into you, and how you sounded when she pulled out, your tiny moans and whimpers building, seemingly encouraging Wanda to speed up.

“You look so cute, looking up at me, just waiting on what I’ll do or what I’ll say,” she said. “Do you feel cared for, baby…?”

Slender fingers brushed your hair out of your face.

“Y-Yes, I-”

Wanda interrupted you — not that you would’ve had anything very substantial to say anyways with how you started to speak and stutter without really knowing what you were going to say. “I knew it was wrong, fantasising about someone so young… But I couldn’t help it…”

She moaned softly and you could see her rub her thighs together just below your eye line.

Your eyes were beginning to flutter shut, for you were feeling the pressure in your lower stomach begin to coil, and you felt yourself tightening around the faux cock, suddenly sensitive to every noise and brush of Wanda’s hair against your skin.

Her arm unwrapped from around your head and Wanda suddenly leaned her head down and wrapped her lips around one of your nipples, causing you to moan out at the feeling of her warm tongue flicking over you, her teeth gently nipping at you before switching to the other.

“You’re doing such a good job, honey,” she reassured, trailing her kisses up to your neck and beginning to run her warm tongue up your skin. “So close, aren’t you?”

You nodded, trying to respond with intelligible words but only getting so far as a little whimper of affirmation. 

From beyond distracted hooded eyes, your eyes flickered between Wanda’s fafe and her soft breasts, still pressed warm against your upper arm. 

“You’ve gotten so wet,” Wanda purred, biting at the corner of your jaw. “My fingers are slipping from around the base; I have to keep readjusting my grip. It doesn’t help that you’re so tight…”

“If I had a cock of my own, baby, I’d have you on your knees, bent over with your face in the pillows…” she mumbled against your ear. “You’d be so tight and warm around me… You don’t know how wet it makes me to think about fucking a young thing like you… Hearing your little sounds and your pleas…”

Your eyes squeezed shut and you reached out to take hold of her hip. “W-Wanda, I’m-”

She moved her other hand down and interlaced your fingers. 

“Come for me, Y/N,” she cooed.

Wanda was entirely captivated seeing you come, feeling the resistance around her dildo as your walls squeezed around it, your body arching from the bed while you cried out squeezed her hand. You came on the very bed and sheets she had to the thought of you countless times before, but the way you came was different. 

It was more delicate than hers — from what she could recall from her own self-perception — your moans fluttery and broken into tiny whimpers, your body combed over with tiny tremors and involuntary twitches.

"That's a good girl," she whispered against your temple as you came, her other hand squeezing and stroking your shoulder. "Just like that, honey..."

She was careful when she pulled out of you, and couldn’t help but bring the dildo up to her lips and clean some of your mess off of it with her lips and tongue. Then she set it down somewhere on the bed and moved down to be able to wrap her arms around you, bringing your head against her chest.

Her arm that wrapped around the underside of your head stroked the side of your temple while she kissed your forehead, her other arm wrapped around your torso, rubbing your side soothingly.

After a while of Wanda rubbing your hip and your stomach, your upper arm, and anywhere she could reach while kissing your face gently, you caught your breath and cuddled close to her.

“I really do like you, Y/N,” Wanda said after the moments of silence. She pulled away a little to be able to look at your face in its entirety, and she smiled down at you softly. “I think you’re very kind, and very sweet. It’s really been a long time since anyone thought or cared as much about me as you do.”

Then she added, a bit shamefully, “I know it just sounds selfish, but over the last while since you moved here, I’ve been thinking of you quite a bit. And I was always very nervous to pursue anything, or even allow myself to feel anything like this for you.”

You didn’t want to speak up and interrupt her, especially since she seemed a little nervous confessing her feelings.

“Not only was it my first time regarding someone of your age in the way that I had begun to, but I think there were just a lot of things I was used to that I had to try to unlearn, and find confidence in diverging from.”

Then she looked away from your eyes and began fiddling with her fingers. Sensing her nerves, you squeezed her hand softly and rubbed your thumb against the back of her hand. Though she didn’t look back at you, she acknowledged your gesture and squeezed back.

“And there was also my age…” she hesitantly mentioned. “I felt… insecure, and unsure of myself, being how old I am and not knowing what to do. I felt… late to everything I was feeling for the first time, and thought that everything I was feeling was some desperate fantasy.”

Hesitantly, she met your eyes again, and looked relieved when you were already looking at her. 

“You have no idea how good and happy it makes me feel that you’re sincerely interested in me…” she told you, a tiny shy smile spreading on her face. “I’ve never felt this way before, even with Vision… and I feel really lucky to be able to be with you like this.”

A realisation suddenly came over you hearing Wanda’s confession — did she really think it was all luck? You had been so shy about everything that you had failed to tell Wanda much of how you felt and how you saw her, and it wasn’t even your first time with a woman.

“I mean… it wasn’t really luck,” you said, fidgeting a little with her fingers, which Wanda thought was really cute. “I did ask to drive you home and visit you and work and… asked to see you this weekend.”

“Oh. That’s right, isn’t it?” 

She looked like she had a moment of deep pondering as she looked off to the side. Then she looked down at you again and smiled. 

“I guess I just didn’t really allow myself to accept the possibility that you were doing it all because of that,” she admitted bashfully. 

You let go of her hand and brushed your fingers against her hip, drawing nervous shapes against her soft skin. “Can I touch you too, Wanda?” you requested. 

For a moment, she looked surprised that you would even offer; her lips parted and she blinked, before closing her mouth and nodding slightly. 

“What will you do?” she asked, curious and sounding a little insecure in a way that you couldn’t entirely understand. 

The two of you shifted positions and Wanda laid on her back, looking up at you with eyes that made your chest ache. She looked vulnerable and almost a little anxious. 

Being intimate with women wasn’t the same as being intimate with men — Wanda figured this quickly. It wasn’t the same kind of mutual pleasure, but rather, rooted in a kind of selflessness, a deep and involved desire to please the other without receiving explicit pleasure of one’s own. 

Sex with Vision and any of the scarce intimate encounters she’d had since her divorce all seemed rather mechanical — it wasn’t so much about desire and interest as it was about fulfilling a role and doing what you knew you were expected to. 

Vision hardly ever went down on Wanda, and she was never quite interested in asking him to nor was she interested in connecting with him in that way. 

It wasn’t that she held any bitterness or negative reservations about him that confined their sex to duty or seeing it as an impulse of nature, as in having sex as one would eat when one was hungry, or sleep when one was tired. 

It was more so that their marriage was not the kind to be seen as based on passion or desire; that hadn’t been how Wanda had seen him when they first met nor how he had seen her. 

The idea that anyone could desire her to begin with, but moreover that one could desire her selflessly, whose justification was solely self-determined desire, made her anxious and uncertain. 

It was, paradoxically, a selfish form of selflessness, where Wanda had only ever known duty and expectation. 

“What you did for me before,” you told her, now settled between her thighs, on your knees. “Is that okay?”

Wanda nodded, looking at you. She adjusted herself a little, but you settled her by placing your hands on either side of her outer thighs. 

You firstly moved up her body, making Wanda think that for a moment you changed your mind about all of what you’d said, but instead you started softly kissing her, laying your body flush against hers as Wanda’s legs parted before squeezing her thighs around your hips. 

Her arms came to wrap around your torso. She stretched her fingers out so she could feel more of your skin, feel the way your back arched and curved as you kissed her lips, then her cheeks and then her neck. 

“You’re beautiful…” you muttered, making Wanda open her eyes and turn her head a little to look at the way you had your face buried in her neck, your hair sprawled out a mess across her chest. 

“Your skin is so smooth, and you’re so warm when you hold me,” you said. 

All Wanda could do was whisper a small, “I like holding you, Y/N.”

You slowly descended back down, your palms running down her sides as if to hold the shape of her body and the frame that made it up in your hands, caressing her. 

You massaged her breast, making Wanda loll her head to the side and let out a soft moan, her own hand coming to the back of your head and tightening her grip when your lips wrapped around her nipple. 

Your tongue was soft and teasing over her hardened bud, and you sucked with a gentle force that wasn’t hesitant, but careful, treating her delicately. 

Her hand stroked the back of your hand with her fingers, gently massaging your scalp and readjusting her hand’s position often to keep combing through your hair. 

Moving further down, you pressed kisses to her stomach, beneath her breasts, down to her belly button, watching Wanda’s expression intently as you looked up at her. 

She looked beautiful with her eyes fluttered shut, lips parted as she sighed and made little noises of pleasure. 

You hoped she felt taken care of. 

Your fingers began tugging at the waistband of her underwear and you looked up to her, expecting Wanda to feel a little hesitant, but instead she breathed out telling you to take them off, even reaching down and tugging at them. 

Wanda’s heart raced when she felt your breath brush briefly against her pussy. A shudder ghosted across her skin and up her spine when your tongue flattened against her, pushing through her folds as your lips wrapped around her. 

Her thighs squeezed around your head and she shut her eyes; the gentle curls and prods of your soft tongue set her on fire, and the way you rubbed at her thighs, squeezing gently, made goosebumps run up her skin. 

She really was quite sensitive, for you could tell exactly how her body would react each time you dragged your tongue up her cunt, pressed against her clit, or secured your lips a little tighter around her. 

You were gentle and intentional with how you ate her out, and Wanda could tell obviously that you certainly weren’t as inexperienced as she was. 

When opened her eyes and looked down, she met your gaze and immediately felt that you were too far away, and she quickly came to prefer not to come without you much closer to her. 

She loosened the grip of her thighs and reached down, her hand coming to the side of your head. 

“I want you up here,” she said. 

You couldn’t exactly hear what she said, but you could tell she wanted you to stop, so you lifted your head and Wanda guided you back up her body.

Quietly, you asked, “Are you okay?”

“I want you with me,” Wanda told you, wrapping an arm around your torso and pulling you close so your chest was flush against hers. Her other hand found your wrist and she led it down between her thighs. 

You felt that you previously didn’t understand Wanda the way that you now did after being intimate with her. She was sensitive and a bit shy, and you hadn’t expected her to be so loving and attentive when it was your turn before. 

There were things like the way she squeezed her arm around your torso when your fingers entered her, sighed into your chest, her head tucked under the crook of your neck, and took every opportunity to keep her body pressed against yours, that made you begin to reshape how you saw her. 

You liked to hold her, to kiss the top of her head. You liked how she kept pulling you against her. 

“Is this okay?” you asked. 

She nodded quickly.

“Am I going too fast?”

Wanda shook her head. 

She felt warm and tight around your fingers, and you were beginning to feel a sort of intimacy feeling the way she squeezed around you, and how she fluttered subtly when she moaned and arched her back to adjust herself. 

“Say you want me, Y/N…” she whispered softly. 

You lowered yourself to kiss her temple. “I want you, Wanda,” you said. ”You feel so good around my fingers. You’re so wet.”

She whimpered, eyes squeezing shut again as she lolled her head to the side to lay against your chest. 

“You feel so warm,” you told her, lips brushing against her forehead. Her hand squeezed at your side. “I think you’re so pretty, and sensitive, and I want to take care of you. I want to make you feel good. I really… want to be with you.”

The words nearly made Wanda want to cry, and she lifted her head, meeting your lips in a gentle kiss. She’d never felt so much connection and longing for another person before. 

It frightened her, at the back of her mind, feeling the way she began to cling at you. It was only you who she’d felt all this for, and she wasn’t sure what she’d do if suddenly none of this worked out. She felt an overwhelming sense of passion, felt it as it filled her chest and forced her to take big breaths to soothe the feeling.

You sped up, mostly curious to hear how wet she was, and Wanda yelped a little, her back arching and pressing her stomach against yours. Her knee bent and she parted her legs further. 

You ran your eyes across her naked body, the way she was spread beneath you and clinging onto you, listened to her deep groans and little yelps and whimpers, watched her breasts rise and fall. 

When Wanda came she was much quieter than you were. She hugged herself close and cried out into the crook of your neck, her sweet-smelling hair filling your nose. Her other hand grasped at your shoulder, and you paid close attention to how she pulsed around your fingers. 

Suddenly her hand came down to wrap around your wrist, and she kept your fingers in place while her body shuddered with the aftermath of her orgasm.

Keeping your fingers deep inside of her and moving them not even a little let you feel her every movement while Wanda’s body slowly relaxed. She wanted to keep feeling you inside of her, just to feel that intimacy for a few moments more. 

Then she nudged your hand away on account of how tired she was to speak, and you carefully pulled your fingers out of her. 

As you looked at her beneath you and listened to her tired sighs and pants, you thought about how you’d seen Wanda as a woman on a platform for much of your time with her. Though you liked her and were attracted to her, you thought you’d always seen her and felt a little intimidated; she felt far away and greater, bigger, than your own life. 

But now she seemed sensitive and delicate, panting, her chest rising and falling, her body coated with a sheen of sweat, her closed eyes fluttering gently. She looked incredibly vulnerable, and in this state it was far easier for you to tell that it truly had been her first time with a woman, and with anyone she felt very interested in or close to in a while. 

You thought of her in more detail, your hand rubbing against her lower stomach, her own hand wrapped loosely around your bicep, her arm other around your waist. 

Wanda had been married and divorced before, she had children and a business and years of her experienced life that you hadn’t yet lived. It still remained true that there were things you didn’t quite yet know about her, and things that would always indicate a difference in your ages and experience, and a general difference in how you lived your lives. 

But in spite of all that, she had chosen to be here with you, and wanted you here with her. 

At the moment her cheek was pressed against your chest, and she adjusted herself and guided you so you could wrap both your arms around her shoulders. She intertwined your legs with hers and tucked her head beneath your chin. 

You wondered the kinds of things she must be thinking. 

The truth was that you wouldn’t know unless you asked or she told you, but sometimes even that wouldn’t be able to capture exactly the way she might feel — when words and language couldn’t bridge the gap of Wanda being unable to word how she was experiencing a romance and an affection that she hadn’t ever before. 

You thought a little about what Wanda said about her marriage before, and you wondered if you really made her feel seen and taken care of. 

You felt her breathing in your arms, listened to her soft inhales and exhales, held her body, and were the only one she wanted to be with and share this time with. 

“Can you sleep over, Y/N?” Wanda asked, lifting her head and meeting your eyes after adjusting her body to allow you to hold her more comfortably. She looked sleepy. 

You laid onto your side fully so your head was on the same pillow as hers. “Do you want me to?” you asked. 

She nodded. “Can you, please?”

“I’ll have to leave early in the morning since I live so far.”

A smile spread on her face and she nudged at your shoulder softly. 

“I want to stay over,” you then told her seriously, kissing her forehead and eliciting a little sigh of pleasure from Wanda. 

She said quietly, “I think I should get up and get ready for bed. I might still have a little makeup on.”

Before you could nod and ask if she had any clothes you could borrow, she sat up and looked at you. Her face was shadowed and her hair, now having lost the curl she had given it this afternoon, was a bit messy, and looked very soft.

You reached out to touch her hair, just to smooth some stray strands down, and make her face more visible. She tipped her face into your caresses, the back of your fingers brushing against her cheekbone.

While Wanda brushed her teeth and you were about to change into the pajamas she let you borrow, you suggested that you might shower together before bed. For most of the night there was minimal talking — not because you had nothing to talk about, but because both of you were far more occupied with just being together. 

Wanda’s hair was nice to feel when you lathered shampoo into it, and her fingers were strong when she washed yours. Her lotion smelled like the tiny whiffs you sometimes got around her but were certain wasn’t her perfume — it was her lotion.

On the bathroom counter were her earrings she sometimes wore and her glasses, and her makeup and face wash and hairbrush.

You liked seeing everything, and you liked being able to touch her whenever you felt, feeling your arms around her waist and being able to kiss her face and her exposed shoulders.

“Do you think… you’ll regret doing this?” Wanda asked quietly after some moments of silence while you laid together, the tone of her voice trying to communicate a space for you to be open and truthful with her. “You can be honest. It’s okay.”

You immediately looked over to her. She was on her side, her hand tucked under her pillow as she looked at you. The blankets were pulled up to her chin, making her look tiny. “No, not at all,” you told her. “I really want to spend more time with you, and I really like you. I’m interested in you.”

Then you wiggled a little closer to her so your knees bumped against hers, making her laugh at how you moved yourself into her personal space.

She wiggled close too until your noses were all but touching, and you could tell Wanda was trying not to giggle. 

“I want this,” you said. The serious tone of your voice sounded silly with how close you were to her face, and Wanda couldn’t hold herself back from laughing just a little. 

“Okay,” Wanda replied with a determined little nod once she stopped laughing. She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “Good. So do I.”

[themidnightcrimson]

tarot ࿏ wm

summary: in which you visit a psychic for a tarot card reading and find that her tricks seem too real.

words: 4.9K

warnings: dark!wanda, fem!reader, non-con/dubcon, tummy riding, scissoring, dildo (r receiving), size kink, use of magic for mind manipulation, dumbification, degradation

this post is a dark!fic and is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

The loose rocks of the pavement scuffed under your heel as you mindlessly kicked them with your shoe, taking a long, slow drag from the cigarette. It was cold that night, and the smoke that you exhaled through your lips was dense with the fog from your warm breath.

Nat reached forward and took the cigarette that you were sharing from your fingers. “It’s been months, y/n.” Her leather jacket squeaked as she curled her arm to bring the cigarette to her lips. The air was damp and the music from the bar muffled as Nat leaned against her truck. “I don’t mean to be that friend who just tells you to just get over it and move on, but just get over it and move on.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved your numb fingers into the pockets of your coat. “I have moved on.”

Nat squinted at you as she turned the cigarette back to you, and you took it, breathing in the smoke she exhaled. “You fled the bar as soon as you saw her across the room.”

You glanced around, hoping that your ex was still inside and nowhere near you. It had been two months since the nasty and dramatic breakup between you and the woman you had been with for over three years. It was sudden and unexpected, and she really gave you no other reason for it besides “I think we should see other people.” You knew that meant she had been or planned to cheat on you, which just made the entire ordeal even more sickening.

“Is it so bad that I don’t want to be around the person who dumped me after three years together? I mean, c’mon, maybe two months is a long time for you but on the time scale of relationships, it’s still very fresh to me.”

“Aha! So you haven’t moved on, like I said,” Nat countered, taking the cigarette right as you were about to take a second draw.

“No, I—I have moved on. I mean, I don’t care about her anymore. It’s not like I still love her. It just hurts seeing her.” You tried to explain it the best you could. You truly did not love her anymore and would never even fantasize or contemplate getting back with her after how crudely she had left you, but seeing her reminded you of all the hurtful words she had said and how she had betrayed your trust so cruelly. It was a reminder that you were heartbroken.

Nat only nodded, looking down at the pavement and crossing her legs. There were a few beats of silence as you stared up at the full moon and she stared at the side of your face. “You know, I would say you should try therapy, but why waste a thousand dollars when you could get a psychic reading for 20 bucks.”

“Huh?” You turned to look at her incredulously. “Why would I do that?”

Nat shrugged and handed you the cigarette. “Maybe to give you some clarity, or the closure that she never gave you. You know I don’t believe in all that holistic spiritual shit, but I do think something like a tarot card reading could help you move forward, even if it’s just by placebo effect.”

“How?”

She shrugged. “I mean, they tell you what you want to hear. It’s fake, you know. They figure out what you’re in there for and they tell you everything they can so that you leave with a smile on your face and their pockets full. Nonetheless, it’s some pretty good bullshit they spew. Better than anything I could tell you, with how shit I am at words.” She kicked at the rocks and chuckled. “It’s either that or going to church.”

You raised your eyebrows and laughed. “Church makes a psychic reading sound like heaven.”

“There’s one in town, you know?” she added, turning and pointing West. “Down at the end of Ellis Avenue.”

“Ellis Avenue?” you echoed. In all the years of your life you had lived in that small town, you’d never heard of that street. “What’s down there?”

“A shit load of nothing. It’s where the town turns into all woods. But I know there’s a tiny psychic shop down there. It’s got a purple sign that says 20 dollars for a tarot card reading.”

“Tarot cards,” you laughed. “Why have I never heard of it?”

“It used to be owned by some lady named Agatha, but there’s a new woman there now that took her place. Wendy, I think she’s called. Wait, no—Wanda! That’s it.”

“Wanda,” you sounded out the name, and you noticed how the wind picked up and caught the word from your lips, whistling it into the air eerily. “That’s a fitting name for a psychic.”

Nat flicked the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with her boot, rocks crackling under her heel. “You should go tonight. I’m sure it stays open pretty late.”

You glanced back to the bar, knowing that your ex was somewhere still inside. You certainly weren’t going back in there, and Natasha didn’t seem like she was willing to go home yet, so your only other options were to either go home and sleep or go test out this psychic.

“Fine,” you finally said, digging your car keys out of your pockets. “I’ll go check it out.”

Nat hesitated suddenly. “Well, actually it’s a little late. Maybe we can go tomorrow, and I’ll go with you.”

You were already walking to your car. “I’m not getting any sleep tonight after seeing her, anyway. I might as well just go.”

Nat looked around and scratched her head. “Well, just be safe. There really is nothing on that end of town, and I have no idea who this woman is. Keep your phone on you and text me when you get there and when you leave.”

“Okay, mother,” you joked, to which she grinned. You waved her goodbye and got in your car, watching as Nat walked back into the bar.

“Ellis Avenue,” you whispered as you typed the words into the map app on your phone. Nothing came up. “Huh?” You deleted it and typed it again, but still nothing showed. Did Nat get the name wrong?

You glanced out your window in the direction that Nat had pointed. She said it was on the far West end of town, where the woods started. You supposed you could just drive around until you found it—the town was too incredibly small for you to not find it. You imagined that you were so used to the town that you never looked hard enough to notice new things, and that’s why you had never seen the shop before.

Buckling up, you pulled out of the bar and onto the road. You drove West across town, taking a few turns that you knew would lead you to the woods. After a while of seeing nothing, you thought maybe Nat was pranking you, but finally, you saw a dingy street sign that read Ellis Avenue and a tiny little shop with a purple sign that read $20 for tarot card reading above a hand with an eye in the palm.

There were no cars in the parking lot. The place barely looked open if it weren’t for the blinking purple sign. You paused, wondering if this was really safe. It was late at night, and this shop was way out of town, alone and isolated on a road where there were no other shops or houses.

It seemed intriguing, though. As you stopped in the middle of the road and stared at the shop, you felt something pulling you towards it. Maybe it was the universe telling you that this was going to be good for you, that whatever this psychic could tell you would be the key to unlocking your grief and moving forward with your life. Whether it was placebo or not, maybe this would help you be in the same room as your ex without freaking out and fleeing.

Trusting what you believed to be your intuition, you cut your wheel and turned into the gravel driveway, your headlights reflecting off the dark tinted front windows. Shutting off your car, you walked up the crickety front steps to the door. You paused, feeling almost as if you should knock before entering. Considering that it was a public shop, you just helped yourself inside, gently opening the door to be met with the intensely strong smell of incense.

A cough scratched at your throat as you stepped inside and closed the door. The air was smoky from an incense stick burning in the corner and from probably two dozen candles burning all around the room. Your eyebrows sewed together as you looked around curiously.

Everywhere you looked were little trinkets and whatnots—crystals of varying sizes and shapes and colors, tiny bottles of strange colored liquids, little jars filled with herbs and flowers and sealed shut with melted wax, bundles of sage and other herbs and leaves, and other little things that you could not recognize. Whoever this psychic was, she truly put on the act and made her shop part of the show. It would be impossible for someone to walk in and not feel like they were being handled by someone who knew what they were doing in the realm of spirituality.

You jumped when you heard a shifting sound, your eyes flickering to a curtain of beads that separated this room and another. Through the curtain that was parted by a ringed hand came a woman, a young woman with long brown curls and smokey green eyes.

“Hello,” she greeted you with a low, accented voice. “How may I be of service to you tonight?” Her voice was pleasant but careful, and her narrowed eyes looked you up and down as if she were suspicious of you.

“Hi,” you squeaked, knowing how silly you probably looked standing in her room of witchy tools. She wore a black dress with a red scarf wrapped around her arms, her fingers fiddling together as she neared you. “Um, are you Wendy—I mean, Wanda?”

An amused look crossed her eyes. “I am. And you’re y/n.”

Your spine jumped out of your skin. How did she know your name? You looked down at yourself, wondering if maybe your wallet was hanging out and showing your ID, but there was no reason she could have known your name. You chalked it up to it just being a small town and everybody knowing everybody. “Yeah.”

“Sit,” she spoke, gesturing to the table sat in the center of the room with candles lining it. You saw a crimson set of tarot cards sitting perfectly on the tabletop. “You’re here for a tarot card reading.” She simply said it rather than asking it.

“I suppose,” you slowly began, feeling your nerves tingling. You tried to remind yourself that psychics were like magicians. They used tricks you were unaware of to make it look like they can read your mind or have supernatural abilities.

You carefully sat down at the circular table, and once you were sitting, she gracefully sat down opposite from you, letting the red scarf slip off her arms and hang over the seat of her chair. The smell of the incense was almost nauseating as you watched her fingers take the tarot cards and begin shuffling them expertly.

The silence was loud as she eyed you while shuffling. You supposed she was pretending to look hard into your mind, so you just stared back at her.

“It must have been hard seeing your ex at the bar,” she said simply as she started to cut the deck into thirds. Her hands were moving so swiftly you couldn’t keep up with them, only seeing a blur of rings and cards.

Your lips parted in shock. “Um… I know you’re a ‘psychic’ or whatever, but how the hell did you know that?”

She didn’t answer you. She laid the cards into three decks in front of you and then withdrew her hands, leaning back in her seat. You noticed then how quiet and solitary the shop was, how intimate with its low lighting and flickering candles and smoke.

“Draw the top card from each pile,” she instructed, a sultry tone in her voice.

You wanted to press her question further, but you reached forward and took the top card from each pile as she said, laying them face-down on the table in front of you. When you were finished, she slid the remaining piles to the side and flipped over the first card to your left. You were confused when you saw that the card was upside down.

“The Chariot,” she read, her eyes blinking thoughtfully. “Reversed. Your future has been carried away from you.”

You tried not to scoff, but she noticed anyway, sharply eyeing you and pursing her lips. She continued anyway, flipping over the second card which was upright.

“Death.”

Your heart started to pound in your chest, your brain already calculating what that card meant. It was eerie, the way it looked, drawn in a smudgy black and white sketch of a body laying dead on the ground and a horseback knight, assumedly the murderer, jumping high over its victim.

“Your relationship ended abruptly, and you find grief a difficult transition.”

You still did not know how she knew you had been through a breakup, but maybe it was an easy guess for a young girl walking into a psychic shop. A part of you, a very gullible part, started to wonder if maybe she really was a psychic.

Finally, she turned over the last card. Chills pierced your spine as you recognized the Satanic image on the card—Baphomet, a horned man, drawn with an unnerving smile over the words The Devil.

“Ah,” she smiled, her lips curling into a pearly smile that caught your eye. She was a beautiful feigned sorceress, that was for sure. “You’ve been tricked.”

Your face scrunched at her words. “Tricked? How?” You were genuinely curious what she meant, even if you were starting to fall for her illusions.

She paused for a thoughtful moment, fiddling with the rings on her fingers as she stared at the card. “She was judgmental, wasn’t she?”

You held your breath, silently urging her to go on.

“She made you feel ashamed of yourself and manipulated you into thinking you were nothing without her. She even made you feel like you were unworthy of her love, though she suffocated you with it before taking it away abruptly. She tricked you into thinking you could not breathe without her, and then she took away your oxygen. And you didn’t even know it was happening, did you, detka?”

She was staring at you now, her misty eyes gazing into your own. A drowsy feeling overtook you, and you couldn’t keep hold of your thoughts. They were rushing past you, plucked just before you could think them, scrambled out of your reach. You didn’t know it was the crimson glow on her fingertips under the table giving you this blank and dazed feeling.

“I…” you trailed, your head starting to pound. “How did you…”

“I am a psychic,” she spoke, and her voice started to sound far away from you, though she was sitting just across the small table. “Says it on the door. You knew it before you came in.”

Tilting your head, you squinted at her, your mouth forming words that your brain would not let your tongue speak. Suddenly, you felt like you had forgotten completely how to speak.

It was then that every candle in the room except for the few on the table were snuffed suddenly by a gushing wind that tickled your hair across your cheek. In the dark, under the glow of the table’s remaining candles, you saw a scarlet light in her eyes.

“You… you’re…”

“I am everything you think I am and more,” she interrupted you. “And you are more than you think.” She leaned forward, bringing her hand out of the table. You watched as she twisted and curled her fingers around in the air, sparkly red magic dancing between them as she scrambled your brain with a tilted head and a curious stare.

Suddenly, flashing memories of your ex passed through your mind. The fights, the arguments, the words you had pushed down and forgotten about under your ex’s manipulative gaslighting.

Wanda spoke, “She made you think the relationship was perfect so you would stay with her for as long as she wanted you, and so that when she didn’t want you anymore, she got to have the upper hand while you suffered. Evil little cunt.”

“That’s not true—”

“I’m seeing it right here, detka.” She twisted her fingers, and the moments were clear in your mind. Your head started to feel fuzzy, your vision dim as you gripped the table, losing all sense of balance like you might fall right out of the chair. “How could someone treat a perfect little kitten like that? Take you for granted so, and leave you out on the road like a discarded dog.”

Now your heart was starting to hurt as much as your head, and before you realized it, you were crying. The smell of incense was burning hard through your nostrils as the witch picked her way through your brain and scrambled the rest. She was surprised at how easy it was to get in your head from the moment you had walked through the front door. She heard your thoughts before she even stepped in the room and looked at you. Now, seeing how easily a non-magical human had broken you down, she gleamed at the thought of how easy it would be for her and her powers to dumb you down even further.

“Stand up.”

Control over your own body was way past you. You moved at her words, standing sharply to your feet. She grinned in satisfaction and stood slowly, walking towards the curtain of beads she had first came through. She didn’t even have to speak or move her fingers for you to follow, floating mindlessly after her through the long strings of beads into the next room.

The back room was small, a sort of bedroom with a crimson velvet bed and a few pieces of furniture. More candles were lit back there, and the smell of incense was even stronger.

“Take off your clothes, detka, and lay down.”

Your body submitted to her voice. Mind far from matter, you peeled your own clothes away until you were bare naked and laid down on the bed, feeling the velvety red sheets on your nude skin.

Wanda sauntered towards the end of the bed, feasting upon your nudity with her darkened orbs. Her hands sinking into the mattress, she crawled on all fours onto the bed and towards you. You couldn’t describe what it was you were feeling. The state of your mind was both entranced and clear, sunk deep into murky waters while also soaring high in the clouds. It felt like static buzzing within and around you, and between blimps of momentary unconsciousness you suddenly saw that Wanda was now straddling you, her short black dress resting high on her thighs. You could feel her bare pussy resting on your lower stomach, her hands gliding across your upper abdomen.

“The most perfect thing to have fallen in my hands,” she whispered, her hands snaking over your tits and squeezing them eagerly. A whine escaped your throat, and she looked surprised to see that you were still present. “Still with me, detka? Let’s have a little fun before you go. I like playing with my new toys right out of the package.”

Her magic infiltrating your conscience was hot and feverish like fire, like bits of ember and ash sizzling away at the mass of your cognizance. It trickled down through your skull like lava and burned the inside of your throat. What piece of you was still there tried to file through which exact moment it was that she caught you—as soon as you walked in? When you inhaled the strong incense? Or was it when you sat at the table? Or when you touched the cards? Was it the very moment when you stopped your car in the middle of the road and stared at the blinking purple sign? Could it possibly be the very moment that you looked up at the full moon outside the bar as Nat told you about this place? Which moment was it that she found her way inside your head and stapled the roots of her magic to your mind?

It felt like you were lucid dreaming as the witch’s hands scoured your body, groping at your tits, squeezing the soft flesh of your waist, tickling over your collarbones and neck. You felt pressure on your lower tummy and saw that she was grinding her bare cunt against you, her wetness sliding easily over your skin.

“Silly puppy,” she taunted with a sharp laugh, her hands fondling your breasts as she undulated her hips against you, skirt catching on your waist. Your skin was growing sweaty under her fingers as her magic coursed through your blood like a venomous infection. “A witch doesn’t reveal her tricks, does she?”

Her eyes fluttered closed as she let out a soft moan, grinding harder on your stomach as she pinched and tugged harshly at your nipples. Your body reacted with a small gasp and a jolt through your muscles, and she smiled.

Lifting up, she backed herself between your legs and then spread them open wide at an angle, casting one leg over yours. Your breathing picked up as she pressed her clit against yours, grinding her cunt into you.

“Fuck, puppy,” she moaned, throwing her head back as dirty squelching noises filled the room. You were wetter than you had realized, and it was evident by the feeling of both yours and Wanda’s juices mixing together. She pushed your hips upward so that she was at a better angle, halfway folding your body as she used your pussy to get herself off. A drop of your mixed wetness started to slide down your tummy, running over the spot that was still wet from when she had grinded herself there.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, detka,” she grunted, her eyebrows sewing together as the bed started to squeak with her motions. “You just be a good toy and let me use you, and I’ll take care of everything. You won’t have to worry about your ex anymore, or your job, or your friends, or even your life. It’s in my hands now.”

Her feelings of pleasure allowed her focus to slip momentarily, and you took the opportunity to string together words of your own will, still struggling to speak. “P-Please,” you said coarsely, looking at her with pleading eyes. She knew exactly what you meant, because she was inside you with her own mind in yours, and she could feel that coil of pressure in your belly, and you could feel hers, too.

She grinned, grinding her clit harder against yours, reaching up to pinch at your nipples. Your body squirmed, teeth piercing into your own lip as a moan escaped your throat, heavenly pleasure washing over you in an orgasm like a warm ocean wave. Wanda moaned and her hips stuttered as she came, her hand that was holding your leg up squeezing your flesh painfully.

She panted as she came down, and you thought maybe that would satisfy her and she would let you go, but now she was crawling down between your open legs and shoving her face between them.

“Ah!” you whined as her tongue lapped over your throbbing clit, slipping down to push deep inside you and tasting you there. Your body reacted outside of your control, trying to jerk away.

“Be still,” she ordered in a whisper, and your body commanded like a machine, stilling as she continued lapping at your sensitive clit. She suckled and pulled away to spit right on your slit before returning her mouth to you again.

“W-Wanda,” you mouthed, hands squeezing at the sheets as another coil of pressure sprung within your belly. It tightened and tightened as she devoured you, and before you knew it, you were blinded with another orgasm, eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling open as you cried out.

Coming back up, she licked her lips and moaned at your taste, wiping your remnants from her mouth and spreading it over your belly. Your legs were trembling now, clit throbbing painfully, but by the look in her eyes, she was not done.

“You saw all my toys in there,” she spoke as she leaned over you to reach to the nighstand beside the bed, one of her necklaces tickling your nose in a cool metal graze. “But I keep some in here for special pets like you.”

Dumbed down, you didn’t know what she meant until, after hearing her open a drawer and rummage around, she kneeled back down between your legs, holding an uncomfortably large dildo in her hands.

You had the urge to jump off the bed and run away, but her magic had been keeping you pinned to the bed this whole time. You watched with wide eyes as she spit on the dildo and smeared her saliva around it, lowering herself down between your legs again and running the tip of the toy through your folds. Jolts of electricity went through you at the touch on your overstimulated pussy, your voice strings cracking together to sound out a pathetic whine.

“If you’re going to be a good toy, you will take whatever I give you,” she whispered, eyes concentrated on your bright red clit and the way your wet folds moved around the dildo as she teased it through them. “Be a good pet.”

She pushed the tip into your entrance, and for a moment, pleasure coursed through you, but as she pushed it in further and your hole ached to stretch around its girth, you cried out, “T-too b…big.”

“Take it, my dirty slut,” she husked, grabbing your thigh and jerking your legs open wider. Sharp pain filled you as she stuffed your pussy full of the dildo, sinking it all the way inside until the hilt touched your skin, and the tip of it was braced against your cervix. Your mouth fell open at how full you felt, how deep it was, at how much your walls ached and throbbed around it. “That’s it,” she praised, “That’s so good, detka.”

She eased it out, earning a hiss from you, and then forced it back in, doing this slowly until the resistance eased and she started to thrust it harshly into you.

“Look at you, taking the whole thing,” she spoke as she grabbed your knees with her free hand and bent them against your stomach so she could fuck you deeper. Using her magic to keep your knees bent, she placed her free hand on your clit and started to rub it hard.

“No!” you exclaimed, your clit hurting from the contact that it was ultra-sensitive to. You tried to squirm, but you couldn’t, and the dildo was hammering hard into you and poking through the skin of your lower tummy and making your legs turn to jelly. “W-Wanda,” you cried, feeling hot tears run down your cheeks.

She smirked at you, feasting on the sight of you crying and begging her to stop, wanting to squirm away from the overstimulation. She was trying to break you down even more, dwindle and dumb you down into a messy puddle of nothing, and she was doing a great job of that.

Squelching noises filled the air as she pivoted the dildo into your hole at a rough speed with one hand and rubbed hard at your clit with the other, pausing only to spit on your rubbed raw clit before rubbing it again.

“W-w-w…” You tried to speak, but your mind was so scrambled, and you were in so deep under her spell and her cruel administrations to your body that you couldn’t do anything but scream as two orgasms violently crashed over you one right after the other. You didn’t even notice that you squirted upon the second one, shooting the warm liquid right upon the skin of Wanda’s chest where her dress did not cover.

She twisted the dildo inside you as you came, urging more liquid out of you until finally there was no more, and you were on the brink of blacking out. Finally, she pulled the dildo out of you and put it away, putting your legs back down on the bed and climbing off you.

Your core ached and throbbed as more tears slid down your cheeks, your legs violently trembling. Wanda rounded the bed to place a hand over your forehead. Through teary vision, you took one last glimpse of her.

“You will be my best toy,” she whispered, a dimple forming in her cheek as she smiled before whispering, “Sleep.”

[eoieopda]

Why are you blocking people who don’t put their age in their bio? That’s private info., maybe they don’t want to share that publicly?

the short answer: if they don’t want to share that information, they don’t have to. i just won’t share my content with them — because i don’t have to.

the long answer: after i posted that i would be blocking people who don’t put their age, i got a PM from a loooong-time moot. i mean, day one. my first moot, actually. they’d previously told me they were 21, but after seeing me post about this being a major boundary, they admitted that they were fifteen (15.)

mind you, they had been reading and reviewing smut that i’d written, which is basically pornography. there are literal laws about furnishing minors with sexually explicit material.

so, on top of learning that someone i considered a friend — and interacted with daily — is a literal child, this is what they were exposed to because they did not heed the warnings all over my blog and on every fic.

learning this made me literally, physically nauseous.

i am an adult. my content is for adults. i do not ever want to be in a position where there are children interacting with my content.

end of.

[sinpiesinpie]

But can’t they just lie about it in their bio?

Also as someone who works in a field that deals with a lot of fraud and scams I wouldn’t suggest putting ANY personal info on your bio. People can get your social and ruin your credit with small amounts of information these days.

[eoieopda]

i talked about lying in their bio here.

i’ll reiterate — as stated above — that if they a person doesn’t want to put that information in their bio, they don’t have to. that doesn’t change the fact that i don’t want ageless blogs interacting with my content. my preference for my own content matters, arguably much more than the interests of people who may want to see it.

i’m definitely not an expert, so this is a genuine question: if a person puts a number age (not date of birth, but just their age) does that really put them at more of a cybersecurity risk than their own IP address already does?

[fushic0re]

if you don’t wanna verify that you’re an adult, you don’t get access to adult things. simple as that.

“age is private” but how many of you give a cashier your ID without even hesitating to verify your age when you buy alcohol? or security when you enter a bar/club?

boundaries work both ways and if someone puts theirs up, you don’t get to refute them with all these “bUt iT’S my chOice—“ excuses. it’s also their choice to not feel comfortable with your choices and boot you out of their space. if you don’t agree with someone’s boundaries, just leave the space silently.

[wndaswife]

centre of attention | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Ex-wife of a church preacher and a member of a popular parent-teacher group, Wanda Maximoff is one of the town’s most infamous figures, but you soon learn that she is much more than she seems.

Word count: 13 784

Tags: smut, fluff, age gap, jealousy, allusions to slut-shaming, mentions of a gangbang, brief cunnilingus, strap-ons, fingering, brief masturbation, hair-pulling, spanking, degradation, mommy kink, power bottom!wanda maximoff. MINORS DNI.

Pitchy hums of singing cicadas greeted you the moment you drove into the small northern Californian town you were to spend the next few months in. 

None of it was really ideal for you’d wanted to land a placement as a teacher’s assistant at least somewhere in southern California as you’d lived in Los Angeles your whole life. But the moment you drove further into the town and saw groups of families walking hand-in-hand down the surprisingly-lively streets and children retiring towards their bus stops after their days at school, you knew your stay wouldn’t be as dull as you imagined.

The only thing that gave you pause was passing by the town’s local and only church that was as bustling with people as the schoolyard was.

What you could already tell was that the townspeople were certainly close-knit, valued their communities, and were a rather religious group of people.

In worrying about your interactions with the town’s church, you hadn’t meant to be crass, but rather sincerely concerned for the possibility that you might truly have found yourself stuck in a strictly old-fashioned and highly religious town hours away from Los Angeles for the next several months.

When you met with your assigned teacher and principal of the schoolhouse to go over some extra paperwork upon your arrival the next day, you met Agatha Harkness, a woman you immediately pinned as the town gossip. She was the vice-principal of the elementary school and she was quick and very kind to go over what you needed to know about the town you now resided in — which ended up being everything she knew from secret divorces to scandalous affairs.

Honestly, you were grateful for her warm welcome, even if the way you secretly mused at all of Agatha’s gossip would certainly be interpreted as rather unseemly for such a new resident of the town.

On Saturdays, the church held breakfasts after early-morning mass for there was also a specially-run youth program that was managed by the church every week on the same day. Eager to introduce you to some of the town’s families, some of whom were involved in the school’s particularly active parent-teacher group at school, Agatha took you to the breakfast.

As you expected, the spacious church basement where the breakfast was taking place was bustling. Families that crowded the buffet tables were dressed in their formal church attire, mothers with their hair done and husbands well-coiffed, and children in clothing that looked proper for the occasion though they were most definitely forced into them. 

“Oh, there’s Monica,” Agatha told you before calling the bright-faced woman over.

She greeted the vice-principal then turned to you and stuck out her hand with a large grin. “Hey there,” she beamed. 

“Hi,” you answered with a nervous smile, slightly intimidated by the crowd and in stunned admiration of the charming woman in front of you. You shook her hand. 

“Monica is likely the greatest science teacher one could ever have the pleasure of meeting in all of northern California,” Agatha said with confident sincerity.

The cheery brunette waved her hand at her dismissively. “Oh, please, Agatha,” she uttered bashfully. Then she turned to you with a smile. “Are you new to the church?”

“I just started my placement as a teacher’s assistant here for my teaching degree in LA,” you said.

With raised eyebrows and an intrigued nod, Monica replied and crossed her arms as if impressed, “Is that so? It’s been a good while since we’ve had visitors come up here, especially from the Valley.”

You’d been living in Los Angeles for so long that you hadn’t ever really considered how renowned it was in the more rural areas of California; even Agatha had been surprised when you’d told her where you were coming in from.

“I don’t mean to hold you up,” Monica told you. “Help yourself to any of the food.” She exchanged a few words with Agatha before you were led further into the large room, and for the next forty minutes you stood by Agatha’s side eating and being introduced to the local families.

To your dismay, Agatha excused herself for a moment to greet what looked like a family who’d just entered the dining hall. You were forced to stand alone by one of the tables, busying yourself by looking around and playing with the hem of your shirt in a desperate attempt not to look awkward or out of place.

When two young boys and their father approached the table you were leaning against, you quickly straightened and stepped back to allow them to pull out the chairs. 

You saw Agatha reapproaching when you turned around, but she was walking back with a woman you hadn’t yet met. She looked a few years younger than Agatha, but still older than you. Her hair was wrapped in a neat French twist, blonde strands that’d become loose from the hairstyle curling lightly around her face.

With her perfect done-up hair, the dark brown lip colour, a pair of black flats, and a dark green blouse tucked into black high-waisted straight-legged pants, she was a bit hard to take your eyes away from. 

Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice what an obsessive idiot you must’ve looked like for she was busy balancing a few platefuls of food as she approached the table behind you with Agatha. She set the plates down for the young boys and the man you saw earlier, and you then realised that they were a family. 

“This is Y/N — who I was telling you about just a moment ago,” Agatha brought you into the conversation then stepped to your side, wrapping a supportive arm around your shoulders. 

The other woman she was with carefully placed the plates of food in front of who you supposed was her husband and children then straightened to look at you. She brushed the strands of her hair out of her face and smiled at you after taking a breath. 

“Wanda,” she introduced herself then extended her hand to you with a warm smile.

“Hi,” you replied then shook her hand. “Y/N.” You kicked yourself internally for bringing your name up again when you recalled that Agatha had just mentioned it. 

Wanda nodded then ran her palms down her hips. “So I’ve heard,” she said, a tinge of gaiety in her tone as her smile widened. “Are you starting your assistant position at the school on Monday?”

You nodded and attempted to return her smile though you were a little overwhelmed by the crowds of families you were currently standing in the middle of. Wanda caught onto the bashfulness of your tiny awkward smile and thought it was endearing.

“Well, don’t you worry. I think you’ll fit right in,” she reassured, the unbroken eye contact making you take a deep breath that you hoped wasn’t as obvious as it felt. 

Before you could answer, one of Wanda’s young sons tugged at his mother’s blouse and asked in an adorably mousy voice, “Momma, can I please get a ginger ale?”

“Of course, moya zvezda. But just a little,” she answered, reaching down to stroke her son’s chin with her fingers. Then she looked back up at you with a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N.”

You straightened and hoped you were only imagining the way you felt yourself blushing at her undivided attention. “L-Likewise, Mrs Maximoff,” you managed to say. 

It was just over a week until you saw Wanda Maximoff again, much to your disappointment. 

During the first week of your placement, you learned a whole lot of things. Firstly, dull heaps of information that you hadn’t said was anything but wholly interesting when the baker by your new place dumped years and years worth of the small town’s history on you when you were purchasing a loaf of rye bread, then more gossip shared with you from the teachers’ staff, suggestions for where the best hiking trails were around town which you happily utilised, and most importantly that there was a parent-teacher association that volunteered twice a week at the school.

At first that last bit seemed unimportant until you were given a sheet of the association’s members so you could familiarise yourself with them as you’d be seeing much of them throughout your time there, one of which was a familiar ‘Wanda Maximoff.’

Out of all the gossip Agatha had told you since you arrived, the resident she talked the least about was the one you were the most interested in. You supposed it was because they were close friends, and it would make sense that certain things about someone’s life — including their friends — were naturally private, even if not consciously.

But you didn’t think Agatha would mind if you asked about her, so you subtly brought her up while you were helping her clean up some of her things after school, a habit you picked up after the first time when you planned to go out for coffee together after work.

With the sheet of the members’ names in your hand, you asked Agatha as discreetly as you could, “Is, um, this the same Wanda I met on Saturday? At the breakfast?”

“Only one Wanda in this town, bumblebee,” Agatha replied and hung her purse from her shoulder. It was obvious she held her to a high regard, and that the two women were good friends. “Why do you ask?”

Continuing on with your goal to know more about Wanda, you answered, “I was just curious. I don’t know a lot about her compared to everyone else.”

“You’d like to know more?” she asked then led you out of her office, locking the door behind her. As the two of you walked out of school, she offered, “What would you like to know about her?”

The opportunity made you feel a little giddy as you recalled the image of Wanda when you met her earlier that week and thought of all the things you had been curious about since then. But you didn’t want to come off as obsessive or like you’d been thinking about her as much as you had, so instead you simply asked, “Were those her kids? The two young boys?”

Agatha nodded. “Tommy and Billy. They’re the sweetest four-year-old angels.”

The two of you approached her car and slid into your respective sides — Agatha in front of the wheel and you in the passenger’s seat.

“And that was her… husband with them?” you asked, buckling yourself in then tucking your hands under your knees.

“Her ex-husband,” Agatha corrected and started the car. “I don’t know if you’ve been to any of the masses, but Vision’s the church’s favourite preacher, so you’d see a lot of him if you attended regularly.”

So she wasn’t married. 

You recalled calling her ‘Mrs Maximoff’ the last time you saw her and you shrunk a little in your seat in embarrassment.

While you tried to imagine Wanda marrying and divorcing a church preacher, not that you knew much about her to begin with to have anything to imagine, Agatha added, “The divorce was, you know, as scandalous as you’d expect in a small town like this, especially given how important the church is here and that both Wanda and Vision are such well-known residents.”

That was the first time anyone had mentioned any sort of distaste for how traditional the town seemed to be and it felt like your first breath of relief, for you’d felt so different from the crowd here since you arrived.

The weight from your shoulders was lessened exponentially when she also said, “But this town is full of younger families of a different generation, and there were more who offered their support than not.

“Although age isn’t entirely indicative of beliefs, so there are still a few younger parents both in the congregation and the parent-teacher association who harbour some distaste towards Wanda and her personal life.”

Up until now, you hadn’t said very much besides uttering a few hums of affirmation and acknowledgement. 

“You alright over there, sweetie?” Agatha asked after not hearing your voice for a while. She looked over to you.

You nodded. “I’m okay. Just listening,” you told her with a reassuring smile.

She looked back to the road. “If you want to know more about her, I could give you her number and you could send her a message.”

A fervent blush formed on your face and you looked through the window to avert your face from Agatha. Something about being given Wanda’s number from someone else because they’d known you wanted to talk more with her made you feel awkward. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I’m sure I’ll… probably see her again.”

God, you felt like an idiot. 

No matter what you said, it felt like it was only becoming more glaringly obvious how much Wanda was on your mind. And with the two women being close friends, you could only imagine the things Agatha would tell her about how you were acting like a giddy little schoolgirl thinking about her. 

That was sort of what you felt like, anyways.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her we talked about her,” Agatha reassured and winked at you. “I know you’re a shy one.” 

You were grateful for that, but still pretty embarrassed.

Dottie was the first PTA member you had a real conversation with. It was on a Tuesday, and you were walking your class of twenty fourth-graders to the church alongside their teacher — you were assigned to assist Bruce Banner, an awkward but brilliant science teacher you came to enjoy the comfortable company of. A few times a month, students attended mass with enough time for the service before school ended, after which their parents would pick them up in front of the church.

You ended up sitting beside a blonde woman who immediately started a conversation with you when she recognised your face from the breakfast last week. After introducing yourself and mentioning a few of the people you’d met so far, Dottie seemed to perk up at the sound of Wanda’s name.

“Oh, that woman is trouble, Y/N,” she warned, her voice low as the two of you were still surrounded by churchgoers patiently waiting for the mass to start. 

Though you were well-aware of the things Agatha told you about Wanda and how she’d been interpreted by some people in town, you were curious to know pretty much anything about her. 

So you asked, “Why?”

Dottie turned her head to you so her chin was brushing her shoulder as she kept herself quiet when she said, “What kind of woman divorces a church preacher of her ex-husband’s regard?” She said it with a kind of humour and a small disbelieving scoff. “It just isn’t proper, especially not for a woman with children.”

Suddenly you felt pretty regretful for being so desperate to know things about Wanda, because now you were feeling rather offended and uncomfortable hearing the things Dottie was telling you, even if what she was saying wasn’t at all about you.

As if it couldn’t get worse, Dottie ducked her head and looked at you, uttering, “Have you caught word of her little… expeditions once she got her divorce finalised?”

You bit down along the side of your tongue with your molars and looked up at the altar, silently hoping that the mass would soon start, but the church chatter between students only continued as the congregation waited for the priest to step onto the podium.

“It was all rather hush-hush because of her…” Dottie trailed off with a disapproving shake of her head, seemingly feeling some contempt simply speaking of any form of esteem for Wanda. But she continued after readjusting herself on the pew, “Because of her standing in town.”

She quickly regained her confidence when she picked up her badmouthing of Wanda again. “Allegedly,” she said with a sly grin and a demeaning chuckle, “Wanda broke out into some sort of midlife crisis and had an affair with four younger men. Four men, one of her, one measly hotel room. I mean, we’re both adults here — you do the math.”

You stuttered out an awkward hum and turned your body subtly, making sure no one around was paying attention to your conversation. No one was. It seemed to you that Dottie’s words were a lot louder than they were due to their subject matter.

“Well… Wasn’t she divorced by then?” you asked.

Dottie laughed and waved her hand. “That’s as good as an affair, honey. Marriage is for life.” 

Then she placed a supportive hand on your knee that sent shivers up your arms before advising, “Besides, it’s good you know early which people to befriend and which to avoid, and Wanda Maximoff is nothing but trouble, junebug.”

Though the general consensus was that everyone liked her if not admired her, there were rumours of similar concerns about Wanda as she seemed to be much less of a conservative woman compared to the rest of the town. It wasn’t necessarily that every resident was a traditionalist, but that even those second to Wanda’s independence from the constricting life of an upper middle-class suburban housewife simply lacked the confidence only she seemed to have in choosing to live a life by her own freedoms and little else.

The rumour Dottie had told you was entirely true aside from the missing detail that her expedition — as she had put it — with the younger men could be accurately construed as a gangbang instead of an orgy or any form of tame sex. But Wanda was so cherished by her community that one would become instantly disliked if their suspicions of her scandalous life reflected in the way they came about interacting with her. 

Some were shocked and almost insulted that anyone could take such accusations about the most warm and charismatic woman in town so seriously, and others lacking in the confidence to outright say there was nothing wrong with a sexually-adventurous woman but nontraditionalists nonetheless would come to her defence albeit in slightly ambiguous ways.

Moreover, the men she’d fucked were so proud of their performances and achievements in sleeping with her that the most they did to indicate what had happened between them was walk with their chests out and chins tipped up in public, feeling proud of the accomplished little secrets they had with her. Sharing dirty secrets with a woman like Wanda, and keeping them secret, amounted to a lot more pride received than repeating what had happened in the shared hotel room that afternoon.

The mass was painfully dull and all you’d been able to think of the last few days was Wanda, and that afternoon was no exception. Your thoughts of her only intensified after your conversation with Dottie and to make matters worse, at one point when you looked around at the pews, you spotted that very woman on your mind sitting between her two sons at one of the seats lined up horizontally in front of one of the side staircases leading up to the altar.

With Dottie’s words still echoing in your mind, your thoughts then wandered to Wanda being fucked by a group of younger men, cum adorining whatever gorgeous body you knew she had under all her conservative clothing, fingers wrapped around erect cocks while she took another one down her throat and another fucking her ass, fingers pumping in and out of her wet pussy.

You felt terrible for having your mind travel there, so you looked away from her and readjusted yourself in your seat. But from the corner of your eye you noticed her tuck her hair behind her ear and fix the collar on one of her sons’ blouses. She caught your attention again.

By then it was hard to stop thinking about her, especially when you watched her whisper an inaudible forewarning to her other son that was getting particularly squirmy in his seat. You watched the parting and movement of her lips and you couldn’t help the way you imagined how she’d look with her lips wrapped around a strap fucking its way into her throat, your fingers buried in her soft hair.

Then you imagined unbuttoning her jeans and revealing her smooth legs, pulling her shirt off and uncovering perfect tits that made you shift uncomfortably when you envisioned burying your face in them and kissing up the soft swells, making Wanda moan and grip at your shoulders while your other hand groped one of her breasts.

When you began imagining the view of her sore red ass while you fucked her from behind — her head thrown back as she cried out in long groans and whimpers, her cunt constricting around your thick cock — you forced your thoughts to come to a full stop.

You felt like an awful person thinking such things anyways, for it somehow felt like you were taking advantage of her. Trying to pretend like Wanda wasn’t on your mind was practically impossible, so you just decided to focus on something else.

Wanda was wearing a cozy-looking brown knit pullover. From the angle of your spot on the pews, you could see she was wearing a pair of jeans and butterscotch ankle boots. She had her hair combed neatly and tucked behind her ears and with it let down this time, you could see that its length reached just above her shoulders.

For the most part, she paid attention to the sermons with a still expression unless she was tending to her sons’ squirming and playful whispers, a testament to the impatience of young children.

When another man stepped up to the microphone after the priest stepped down and took a seat, Dottie leaned to the side and whispered, “Wanda’s ex-husband.”

Your attention was suddenly piqued and you looked up at the man. He was slender and tall and had blonde brushed-back wavy hair that swooped around his clean-shaven face. He had a pair of aviator glasses perched on his straight and jutted nose, and he was dressed in a beige blazer, navy blue slacks, a knit vest that was a few shades darker, and underneath, a grey blouse with an orange tie.

By all accounts, he was a pretty decent-looking guy. 

His smooth and animated tone of voice that emanated through the church as he read a parable from a small leather-bound notebook made it clear that he was passionate about the church and his position there, and with his appearance that made him seem friendly and introspective, it was no wonder why Agatha had told you he was the church’s most popular preacher.

Wanda’s expression was ever-still and indifferent with no indication that she harboured any remaining emotional sentiments towards seeing her ex-husband in public nor any hint of being bitter towards him.

The service finally came to an end and it was then time to help the class line up by the church parking lot to have their parents pick them up. 

When you stood up, you looked for Wanda but lost sight of her in the crowds of people filing out of the church. So you said your goodbyes to Dottie and led the class out of the building and towards the parking lot with their teacher.

It was about thirty minutes later waiting by the church’s front doors when only three students remained to be picked up. One of the students’ mothers were engaged in conversation with Bruce, the remaining children were talking amongst themselves, and you were standing by the side, just waiting for the rest of them to get picked up so you could walk back to school with Banner.

“Fancy seeing you here, stranger,” a voice spoke behind you. You turned to see Wanda smiling widely at you as she approached. She stopped in front of you and leaned her shoulder against the brick wall of the church. 

You smiled, feeling happy to see her. She really was charming, and so warm. “Hi,” you said. “Were you here for the service?”

Bruce glanced at you from the corner of his eye as he continued to talk with one of the students’ parents. He was glad you were getting along with people in town so well, and felt a little impressed that you seemed to be so friendly with Wanda so early into your stay. He was a shy and rather soft-spoken man, and the most he’d ever outwardly expressed his thoughts about Wanda was in the privacy of his wife's company. He had friendly feelings towards the renowned preacher’s ex-wife, and if the town had to be divided into groups, he’d certainly be categorised as a nontraditionalist.

Wanda replied, “Tommy and Billy’s father had a scripture reading today and he has them for the rest of the week, so I picked them up early after lunch to spend some time with them. I just said goodbye to them a few minutes ago.”

“About that…” you said and curled a lock of your hair between your fingers nervously. “I didn’t know you weren’t married last time we talked, and I shouldn’t have assumed…”

She ran her hand down your forearm, the one that was lifted so you could play with your hair. Her hand was so close to your face, and you caught a whiff of her perfume. “Oh, don’t worry about it, honey,” she reassured. “I completely understand, and you didn’t offend me.”

Wanda squeezed your forearm gently before her hand returned to her side. She straightened away from the wall and tucked her hair behind both ears. “Anyway, I saw you a bit ago and wanted to come up earlier, but I caught up chatting. I’m glad I could catch you.”

You fiddled with your fingers and perked up a little. “R… Really?”

Wanda hummed in what was either confirmation or amusement from your nervous response. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over for coffee,” she offered. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot since we met on Saturday, and I’d love to get to know you more.”

“Today? Now?” you asked.

“If that works for you.”

“It does,” you told her cheerily. 

She nodded with a wide smile. “Alright then, great. I can wait until you’re done here.”

Bruce, as if partially-listening into the whole conversation, turned and told you, “You can leave early if you want, Y/N. Just waiting on two more students here, so it’s no big deal.”

You asked, “Are you sure?” 

He reassured you it would be fine, and you soon found yourself walking through the church parking lot to Wanda’s car. 

Since Agatha picked you up from home that morning, Wanda only had to stop at school so you could get your things from the classroom before the both of you were on your way back to her house.

Wanda’s house was just off the edge of town, surrounded by farmland. In spite of that, her house was rather modern and of contemporary architecture. A white-picket fence extended down the grove of trees that surrounded the long gravel driveway. From afar where her expansive backyard was visible, you could see a sizable in-ground pool and what looked like a tennis court beyond that. She parked her car in front of the dual parking garage and you looked through the car window at her house.

When the two of you stepped onto her porch, Wanda told you, “The property used to be mine and Vision’s, but after we divorced I kept it for myself and he moved into town.”

“It’s a really nice place,” you complimented as you followed her lead, placing your shoes by the door and setting your things down on the table in the foyer.

“Thank you,” she said, looking over her shoulder at you. “I’ll make us some coffee and I can give you a tour?”

You nodded and Wanda smiled at your leniency. She had you sit at the kitchen island counter while she made coffee with a pretty-looking French Press.

“So, darling, how are you liking it here so far?” she asked, setting up two mugs by the steeping coffee. She turned and leaned back against the counter, her hands resting against the edge. 

“I’ve really been enjoying myself,” you replied, sitting up in your chair.

Wanda appreciated your almost innocent enthusiasm as she regarded you with a smile. Then after a second, seemingly momentarily distracted by whatever was running through her mind as she stared at you, she inquired, “Have you made friends with anyone yet?”

“I talk to Agatha a lot, but this is my first time seeing anyone out of work or anything like that.”

There was a glint of pride in her smile when you said that as if she felt satisfied that she was the first person you were truly getting close with. It was almost territorial.

She turned back to the coffee once it finished steeping and you watched as she slowly pressed the top of it down, separating the grinds from the coffee. She poured it into both cups and discarded the grinds and rinsed out the press as the drinks took a moment to cool. 

“How do you take your coffee, sweetheart?” Wanda asked. It made you feel sorta giddy when she used those kinds of names on you. She then placed the mug in front of you when she made it how you liked it. 

As promised, she gave you a tour of the house which ended up feeling more like a casual stroll as you were outside with her more than not, walking the expanses of the tree groves out by the gardens and through her sizable backyard together.

You were largely an occasionally-stuttering and slightly-embarrassing mess with Wanda, but she didn’t seem to mind at all and led most of the conversation with you. In fact, she found your shy demeanour rather attractive, and she was delighted every time she caught you blushing or stumbling over your words.

Talking with her was so simple in spite of how awkward you felt, and if you didn’t have anything to say, it was just as easy to listen while she did the talking. She was different from other people you’d met thus far, because she was bold and not at all shy about being honest. She was adept in balancing the weight of being a single mother to two children while also being a leading figure in both the church community and in the school’s parent-teacher association. But she was also radiant and warm, and most especially, a huge tease.

When the topic of her divorce came up, Wanda made a joke about how her sex life with Vision was dull and how she’d been indulging in leaving her husband to get properly fucked months before the divorce papers were ever served, and though she did promptly say she was joking, you had an inkling that she was being at least partially honest. She made no further effort to convince you that she was simply jesting.

She then told you more seriously that her marriage with Vision had simply become less passionate over the years and that they confessed to each other that neither of them would feel particularly anguished if they ended up divorcing, which was reason enough without their other existing troubles. Essentially, their divorce was amicable and they still worked well enough together in order to raise their children.

Additionally, Wanda confirmed your impressions of her ex-husband from the service earlier, that he was the sensitive type who was reflective and intelligent. She told you she was impressed by how proficient you were in reading people.

The compliment flattered you, but you were secretly a bit insecure as you thought about her and Vision’s marriage. You knew fully well that they were divorced, but you couldn’t help comparing yourself to him and wondering if Wanda had a type — more precisely, if you were her type.

Another thing that you distinctly enjoyed about Wanda was that she was a very physical person. When she thought something was funny, she laughed in a rich way that crinkled the corners of her eyes and pulled her lips back into the prettiest of smiles. She touched you when she felt like it, without hesitation, running her hand down your arm or squeezing your shoulder. She was expressive with her body language and facial expressions and never made you feel for a moment that she was doing anything else but listening with undivided attention when you were speaking. She wasn’t very much withdrawn at all; she was a very sociable and confident woman.

“And you, Y/N?” she asked, placing both mugs, empty of coffee, into the sink once the two of you made it back into the kitchen. 

Wanda turned to you and leaned forward against the island counter you had sat back down at. Her hips were pressed against the edge of it and her forearms rested against the countertop, her hands folded in front of her. Her sleeves were pushed up to her elbows from earlier when the two of you had been walking out under the sun for a while.

You stuttered under her focused gaze, “M-Me? What about me?”

“Do you have a special someone?” she asked with a teasing little grin, resting her chin in her palm and looking straight at you. 

Discussing the topic of your love life with Wanda made you feel flustered and you looked away from her, fiddling with your fingers and looking down at your thumbs. “No, I don’t,” you answered.

“But you have someone in mind?” Wanda playfully pressed, raising her eyebrows at you curiously.

You looked back up and told her honestly, “Not really.” You attempted to be more honest with her given that she’d been so open and warm with you. “I haven’t had much of a chance to meet anyone.”

She straightened and ran her hands flat down against the counter. “Oh?” she questioned. “But you’re such a sweet girl.” Wanda rounded the island counter until she was standing behind you and laid her hands on your shoulders. “I figured that you would’ve had boys all over you, honey,” she whispered.

You knew she was teasing, or at least that was what you kept telling yourself when you found yourself slightly overwhelmed and rather overheated with Wanda’s hands on your shoulders, her thumbs slowly sliding up the sides of your neck.

“I’m just poking fun at you, sweetness,” Wanda giggled and squeezed your shoulder before stepping away from you. She walked out of the kitchen momentarily and came back with her purse. She laid it down on the counter and pulled her phone out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I let the time get away from me,” she apologised. “I have to meet Vision and the kids for dinner in about an hour.”

To avoid thinking of Wanda getting all ready and dressed-up to see Vision, although it was for a dinner with Tommy and Billy, you stood up from your seat and answered, “It’s no problem at all. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you more. And the coffee was really great. Thank you.”

Wanda led you to the door, a gentle hand on your lower back. “I’d love to have you over again,” she told you. Her hand slid up your back, making you straighten immediately before she took her hand away from you to unlock the front door.

Though you looked away to hide the way your cheeks flushed at the contact, Wanda caught sight of your embarrassed expression and felt a flurry of adoration for you.

After saying goodbye to each other, Wanda called you back before you could step off her porch. “Would you be able to put your number in my phone?” she asked, holding her cellphone out to you.

Sounding a little too excited, you walked back over to her and answered, “Sure!”

For the next little while since you exchanged numbers that late afternoon, you’d had a few conversations with Wanda over text message. She was a busy woman though; she was always the most free to talk in the evening or rather early in the morning when you weren’t often awake. 

You talked a lot about Tommy and Billy, your assistant position and how you’d been finding things, what Wanda did on a day-to-day basis, and a few other leisurely things when you both had time to discuss things like recent movies and favourite books. 

It was incredible what Wanda took on in a day. Sometimes she was organising the youth church events or in meetings with the parent-teacher association — during which you sometimes passed the meeting rooms they were in, but never got the chance to see her because they were always so busy. 

She went out of town a few days a week for any sports or clubs either of her sons were in outside of school as there wasn’t much availability regarding extracurriculars in town, which was also something she’d been trying to bring up to the municipality.

If she didn’t have to tend to the PTA, the church, or her sons, she had errands. She was always doing something from dropping something off at someone’s place to picking something up, going out of town to get something fixed, or doing one thing or another for someone else.

She always apologised for it as she’d told you that she wished she had more time to talk with you or at least be able to make a plan to get lunch together.

Though you also desperately wished to see her again, you didn’t mind at all. In a way, you really admired her drive and how capable she was, and  how readily available she was to those who needed her while also being the most friendly and warm woman in town. 

Plans to see each other again either fell through or never had the chance to be made for the both of you were beginning to have busier schedules. 

Wanda was virtually always busy, but for you, since the season had begun to reach some of its warmest temperatures, there were more school events being organised from field trips to sports’ days which took up a majority of your time as you planned with Banner both during and out of class. 

The next time you saw Wanda in person was on a Thursday, nearly three weeks since you had coffee with her. But in spite of that, you felt a lot more excited than the last time, for you now had three more week’s worth of having been able to get to know her. In fact, you were almost certain Wanda considered you a friend.

She was friendly with a lot of people. Nearly everyone in town knew her and held her in high regard. She’d take on extra work just to cover for a committee member who couldn’t make a meeting or cut an off-day short to do errands for anyone who’d ask her to, but from what you knew, she was only really friends with Agatha.

And now, you hoped she felt she was friends with you too.

Today was one of the hottest days of the season so far and also the day of the biggest school event. In association with the church, the sports festival equally divided their earnings from the festival and put it towards both the school, church, and municipal government. 

It was perhaps one of the biggest events in town for local businesses would also set up their stands and sell their products and services, and along with the carnival games and freshly-cooked food that stretched all the way down the expanse of Main Street under the sunny warmth of a budding summer, the festival was an attraction that had the small Californian town bustling with both locals and tourists alike.

Needless to say, the planning for the festival was extensive and it was one of the primary reasons both you and Wanda had become so busy over the last few weeks, planning completely different portions of the festival at the same time.

The festival was teeming with families and couples and it reminded you a lot of home; you felt a bit nostalgic. But mostly, you felt proud for having taken part in such a successful turnout. You looked around at the game and food concessions and small-business booths that extended down the long stretch of the lively street. 

On one side of the street, a grassy clearing with a large playground and plenty of picnic tables served as a seating area, mostly. People ate and chatted with one another, watched their children as they swung around on the playground, and were overall just enjoying spending such a cherished event under the sun in the charming town. 

Some that occupied the grassy plain were sprawled out under the sunny green expanse, some were sitting together with loved ones on picnic blankets they’d brought, and some, including a familiar woman sitting with a group of less-familiar women, were sitting at the picnic tables.

You approached the table of women after spotting Wanda and saw that her hair was tied back and that she was wearing jean shorts that revealed smooth legs, tennis shoes, and a white blouse that she had rolled up to her elbows.

By the time you’d gotten to the picnic table you felt a bit regretful, for you didn’t know any of the other women she was sitting with and you felt rather awkward walking up to the group of women, some of whom were sitting with their husbands.

But Wanda had already caught sight of you. She turned when you came into her peripheral and called out your name cheerfully, waving you over so you really couldn’t walk back now.

She stood from her seat and wrapped an arm around you. “Hi,” she then said after pulling away from the embrace to meet your eyes. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

You nodded with a smile. “Yeah, it’s been pretty nice,” you answered. 

Her eyes ran over your face for a moment longer before she stepped back and allowed the rest of the picnic table to see you. With her hand resting on your shoulder, she introduced, “This is Y/N. She’s moved here from Los Angeles for the time being to work on her teaching degree.”

While you and the table exchanged hellos with each other, Wanda turned to you and said, “This is the school’s PTA. Most of it.”

Then she offered, “Why don’t you come and sit here with us, honey?” She sat back down and moved over to the side, one hand on the empty space beside her. 

You quickly looked over the picnic table of couples and single mothers as they’d resumed their conversations, then over at the empty spot. 

“Oh… Well, I wouldn’t want to bother any of you, and I think Vision is around here somewhere looking for a seat,” you answered and looked around for him. 

Wanda then stood from her seat again, enough to be able to reach over to you and take your hand. “Nonsense, darling. Come here,” she told you. She pulled you to the table and took the small plate of food from your hand before setting it down on the table. She sat you down beside her.

Discussion around the picnic table continued and Wanda poured you a glass of water from the pitcher at the middle of the table. You smiled gratefully at her and she was quickly reined back into the table’s conversation.

Unsurprisingly, she was pretty talkative with the table. You’d known how open and social Wanda was, you’d seen it yourself, but you hadn’t seen her interact with other people yet. 

She was as charismatic as ever. She told jokes that everyone laughed at, and when she spoke, everyone at the table listened with their full attention. She was actively part of every conversation that took place between the table of mothers and their husbands. 

It was comforting in a way, because with Wanda leading every conversation, you didn’t have to feel pressured to do anything but sit beside her and listen to everyone talk. You spoke when you were spoken to and felt completely content sitting beside Wanda, eating your food and occasionally participating in discussion. 

Wanda was rather happy to have you sitting beside her. She looked at you with an adoring smile every time you answered a question or voiced your opinions on something, and she rewarded you by running her hand down your back or squeezing your shoulder, and a few times, she even grazed the back of her fingers against your thigh. 

A voice called your name from behind and you turned to see Bruce waving you over. You stood from your seat and Wanda looked up at you.

“Come right back when you’re done, honey,” she told you.

You promised you would, then threw out your empty plate of food to head over to Banner.

From the picnic table, Wanda eyed you as you dashed around doing favour to favour, first starting with you being asked to bring back some papers from the classroom, which was only just down the road. She was eager to have you back the moment you handed Bruce his paperwork, but you were soon caught up being asked to run around only further by people who suddenly needed your help, from parents who wanted to talk with you to being asked to fetch things from inside the church.

“Wanda?” a woman at the table said, trying to get her attention. She waved her hand in front of her face and Wanda looked away from you, blinking out of her concentration.

With a superficial laugh, she replied, “Sorry. I must have zoned out there.”

Tommy and Billy came from playing carnival games with their father to settle down for a moment and sit on their mother’s lap. With her arms wrapped around her twins’ waists securely as they drank from her cup of water and ate from her plate, they told her how eventful their day had been and that soon their father would let them help one of his friends run his game booth.

After filling their bellies and hydrating themselves, they slid off of their mother’s lap and were nearly about to run back to Vision before Wanda took hold of their wrists and had them stand still while she reapplied their sunscreen in spite of their whines.

When she was finished, they ran back over to Vision and were practically hopping around anticipating the chance to help with the ring game.

Later, Monica came up to Wanda and tapped her on the shoulder. She was holding a clipboard in her arm and looking a tad flustered. “I’m so sorry to ask this of you, Wanda, but one of the booths are about to run right out of food, and normally we’d just have them close for the day but there’s a line for it right down the street, and—”

“I understand,” Wanda interrupted her frazzled rambling with a warm smile and stood from the picnic table. “What do you want me to do?” she asked with a supportive hand on the brunette’s upper arm.

“Oh, thank you.” She breathed out a sigh of relief. “There’s a rice cooker and a few vegetables they need diced in the church basement’s kitchen. Would you be able to cut a few of them and get some rice going? That’s all, and I’ll be down in a little to bring it out for them.”

Wanda nodded and squeezed her arm gently. “Of course,” she said and reassured Monica again when she was a flurry of apologies again. She excused herself from the table and walked over to the church, which was just across the road. 

As she walked, she looked for you, hoping that perhaps she could get you for herself, even if that meant just dicing some vegetables in a church basement.

When she caught sight of you with a particular blonde standing by an inflatable bouncy house Dottie was put in charge of to watch the kids, Wanda felt a wave of scorn come over her. She watched from the church steps as you conversed with Dottie, the wide grin on her lips as she discussed God knows what with you.

What business could she possibly have with you?

Did she even have anything interesting or intelligent to say, anything that warranted the friendly smile that formed on your lips as you spoke with her?

Dottie never liked Wanda, which never concerned her too much until she began to question what kinds of things Dottie must’ve said about her to you. Wanda was self-assured in her reputation and confident in the relationship she’d developed with you, but the image she created in her head of the blonde’s snarky little smirk as she got in close to you made Wanda’s blood boil.

It’d been hard to make plans with you for the past few weeks and Wanda couldn’t help but wonder how many times you’d seen Dottie, and for the first time, Wanda felt strongly remorseful for how much time she put into things other than her personal life.

Have you ever visited her house for coffee? 

Did you have her number too?

Tearing her eyes away from the two of you, Wanda continued up the stairs and into the church, where she felt her teeth clenching tight against each other in irritation. She headed downstairs and into the kitchen where she took out the refrigerated vegetables and set them out on a cutting board. 

Then she looked through the cabinets for the rice cooker and immediately became increasingly vexed when she couldn’t find it. She knelt down by the bottom of the shelves where a mess of boxes and tupperware made it impossible to find the rice cooker if it were hiding there on the shelves somewhere.

Unbeknownst to her, Agatha had come in following behind her when she saw Wanda heading into the church in hopes of finally taking some time to catch up with her friend. When she went into the basement, she saw Wanda crouching down beside one of the kitchen cabinets, arms deep in a clutter of plastic tupperware and storage boxes.

She was making quite a mess, chaotically sorting through the cabinets with less of an intention to find whatever she was looking for and instead with the intention of simply taking out some form of anger on the poor boxes of plastic spoons and serving napkins.

“I can’t find this goddamned rice cooker,” Wanda hissed when she saw Agatha standing by the kitchen door frame. 

“Cursing the name of the Lord in a church,” Agatha said in feigned disapproval then whistled.

Looking over her shoulder, Wanda shot her friend a poisonous glare then went back to searching for the rice cooker. After a moment, she stood up and slammed the cabinet door shut. “It’s not in here,” she snapped and brought a hand up to her forehead as she sighed out.

“I’ll look. Just cut the vegetables,” Agatha told her and looked through the kitchen while Wanda began rinsing the vegetables. She had no luck with finding the rice cooker either.

From behind her, Wanda was dicing a carrot slice especially aggressively and Agatha turned to see it practically diced to a sad little orange paste. “Honey…” Agatha muttered, leaning against the counter and staring at her. Wanda didn’t respond as she continued to dice the carrot slice into mush. “Wanda.”

She snapped her head up and bit, “What?”

Agatha pointed at the half-paste, half-solid pile of carrot. “I think you got it,” she said, her nose scrunched up. 

Wanda looked down at it as if really seeing it for the first time then flicked it off the cutting board and into the sink. She continued dicing the rest of the carrot.

“Something on your mind, sweetpea?” the brunette asked and pulled off a bit of washed broccoli from its head before sticking it in her mouth.

“No.”

Agatha hummed, unconvinced. She continued to watch Wanda dice up the carrots and move onto the bell peppers with startling focus as if she was revenge-chopping the poor things. Then, feeling the need to tease her, she said, “I saw Y/N and Dottie talking outside.”

Wanda visibly bristled and she cut down particularly hard on a slice of yellow pepper so the edge of the knife met loudly with the plastic cutting board. “Did you now?” she asked with a steady voice.

“Have you gotten a chance to speak with her today?” 

“I did.”

“And?”

“And what?” she asked and looked up from the cutting board.

Slightly amused by seeing her friend so occupied by the thought of someone, Agatha admitted, “I was just wondering, because a few days ago Y/N asked how you were doing.”

“She did?” she inquired, untensing for a moment. Then she looked back down to the bell peppers and continued slicing them. “And what did you say?”

Agatha replied, “I said that you’d been busy. She said that she’d been texting with you but she wanted to know how you were.”

After some silence, Wanda asked, “Has she ever asked you about Dottie?” 

It’d been such a long time since she’s seen Wanda behave like this. Repressing a little laugh but not being able to hide her grin, Agatha insisted, “You’re jealous.”

With a scoff and a mockingly amused smile, Wanda replied, “I am not jealous.” Then after a moment she added, “Who would I be jealous of? Dottie? Please.”

“I’d understand if you were. They seem to be quite close.”

At that, Wanda visibly tensed and set the knife down before saying, “How about you pick things up here, and I’ll head back home to fetch a rice cooker? I think I have one in my kitchen.”

It was more of an instruction than a suggestion, for she immediately rounded Agatha before waiting for her response and stormed out of the basement and out of the building.

When Wanda stepped outside, you were no longer standing around with Dottie but instead chatting with one of the teachers from the school’s staff. But Wanda was impatient and now set aflame by Agatha’s purposefully-baiting words, and she walked towards you until she could place a hand against your lower back.

“Hi, honey,” Wanda greeted with a soft smile when you turned your head to look at her. She looked over to Pepper, who you were in the middle of a conversation with. “I apologise, but I have to steal her away from you. I’m afraid I need Y/N’s assistance with something.”

Pepper was more than understanding and bid you a goodbye before Wanda circled her hand around to your hip, bringing you against her.

“Busy, are we?” she asked, looking at you as the two of you headed down the sidewalk to where Wanda’s car was parked.

Not picking up on what she was implying, you replied with a smile, “Not too busy, so I can help you. Where are we going?”

“Back to my place. There’s a rice cooker I need to pick up for the church and I need someone to help me look,” Wanda answered and let go of you to round the car and unlock the doors. She slid into the driver’s seat.

You buckled yourself into the passenger’s seat and immediately felt more comfortable having a break from the bustling crowds of people. And you were finally able to spend some time with Wanda again. 

“Let me get you a drink,” Wanda offered when arrived at her house and passed by her kitchen. “It’s hot out there.”

You didn’t decline, for when you ran your tongue against the roof of your mouth you realised how thirsty you were, especially after doing not much else but talking with people the whole time.

While Wanda poured what looked like homemade lemonade into a glass, she said, “I wasn’t aware that you were so popular, Y/N.”

You looked up, but her eyes were focused on the pitcher of lemonade. “I’m not popular,” you said, laughing a little at the mere suggestion. You stepped into the kitchen in front of the island counter where Wanda was pouring your drink.

“No?” She looked up from the glass and set the pitcher down. She chuckled a little and did away with your suspicions that she was upset with you. “It looked like everyone was lining up just to talk with you.” She slid your glass of lemonade over to you. “You didn’t notice?”

“I, um… Well, I guess not.”

Pleased with your simplicity, Wanda leaned against the counter and rested her cheek against the heel of her hand. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” she reassured and watched you take a drink of the lemonade, her eyes focused on the way your lips parted around the rim of the glass. She felt far more comfortable than she was before now that she was alone with you, having you to herself and not having to worry about the next time you might be stolen away from her.

After a few moments of watching how cute you looked sitting at the island complimenting how good her homemade lemonade was, Wanda said, “Shall we start looking for the rice cooker? I believe it’s in the storage closet.” 

You set the glass down and Wanda led you forward to the storage closet, which was just by the doorframe of the entrance to the kitchen. You searched through it then crouched down to start digging through the set of boxes on the floor.

Wanda’s phone buzzed with a text and she turned to take her phone out of her purse on top of the kitchen counter. The text was from Monica that read: ‘Agatha and I found the rice cooker!! I’m so sorry that you had to drive all the way back home.’

Keeping her expression still, she tucked her phone back into her purse then turned to you as you continued to dig through the lowest shelf of the storage closet. Her eyes were trained on your ass as you had your back turned to her unassumingly. She leaned back against the kitchen counter, watching you from behind.

“I found it!” you said and carefully manoeuvred a box out from the back of the closet. The rice cooker was still in its box, likely having been used about a handful of times since it was purchased. 

To Wanda’s dismay, you stood back up and closed the closet door. But when you turned around with the most eager little smile on your face from having found what she was looking for, she felt warmed.

“Thank you, honey,” Wanda cooed and took the box from you. She set it down onto the kitchen counter by her purse. She turned back around and her breath hitched when she felt herself fueled with a twinge of adrenaline at the sight of you. 

After weeks of being away from you and a chaotic day of watching you talk with nearly everyone else but her, Wanda reached out and wrapped her fingers around the corner of your shirt, gently tugging you towards her.

Your face flushed and you looked away from her, but the closer she brought you, the more difficult it became to do anything but look into her eyes that were trained on your face.

“Y/N, there is something I’ve been meaning to give you. It’s upstairs,” she whispered when you were close enough to hear the quiet hush of her voice. The tip of her tongue peeked out when she ran it across her bottom lip and she asked, “Would you mind coming up with me?”

You swallowed and felt yourself nodding, but you weren’t entirely sure if you really did nod or if you just imagined it; you sort of felt a bit lightheaded.

A ghost of a smirk formed on Wanda’s lips and she let go of your shirt before she led you towards the staircase and up to the second level of the house.

Your heart began beating faster in your chest as you continued to follow behind her nervously. You hesitated a moment when Wanda opened her bedroom door and stepped in, but eventually you forced yourself forward and followed her to the closed closet.

She turned around suddenly and asked, “Can I ask you a question, Y/N?”

“S-Sure,” you stuttered, feeling out of place.

Wanda stepped forward so her face was just inches in front of yours. “Have you ever been with a woman before, sweetheart?”

You felt no need to lie, and you felt no need to be embarrassed around Wanda although you felt that your face was warm and flushed.

When you nodded, Wanda added, “More than once?” She seemed increasingly interested at your second nod as she raised her eyebrows in piqued interest, a small intrigued smirk forming on her lips. 

“You enjoyed yourself?” she asked, now overtly teasing you as her fingers ran down the collar of your shirt. 

You nodded once more, and she was appreciative of your willingness to answer her questions with little hesitation. Then her eyes flickered up from your shirt to your face, curious juniper irises sinking into your focus. “And men?” she inquired with a slight tip of her head. 

This time you shook your head and Wanda’s breath seemed to hitch, her interest now at an all-time high. 

Her fingers tightened around the collar of your shirt and she pulled you towards her, crushing your lips against hers. She was quick to take control of the kiss and tip her head to the side. Her hand let go of your shirt and she wrapped her fingers around the back of your neck, releasing a soft moan in the form of a warm exhale into your open mouth.

She pulled you backwards with her as she reached for the knob of her closet door. She opened it and pulled you in then momentarily disconnected from your lips to search for something. 

You were distracted by the sight of her lips that were parted to allow her to pant softly. You leaned forward and pressed kisses up her neck, causing Wanda to stumble back slightly and hum out with pleasured appreciation. Her fingers ran up the back of your head and were interlaced with your hair, encouraging you to continue kissing her neck.

Her head pulled back enough to uncover your eyes and she lifted an all-black silicone cock already attached to its harness up to your face. Your eyes widened at the sight of the toy and Wanda leaned down to press her lips against your ear so she could whisper, “I want you to fuck me.”

When she read in your expression that you were more nervous than shocked that Wanda had brought the topic up to you, she reassured, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, honey.”

“B-But I want…” You raised your head and looked at her with a determined look in your eyes. “I want to. I want to make you feel good.” 

Wanda grinned and she kissed you. “That’s sweet of you, but I want you to enjoy yourself too. We can go as slow or fast as you’d like. How about you start whatever speed you’re comfortable with, hm? And we can work from there.”

“I know you’ve had better…” you said quietly, bouts of your insecurity evident in your soft, unsure tone of voice. Though you didn’t explicitly mention it, the both of you knew exactly what you were referencing. 

Wanda wasn’t surprised and instead just grinned and asked in a teasing way, “Who told you about that?” 

You looked away, embarrassed. You hadn’t meant to bring it up. 

She leaned forward and kissed the corner of your mouth before grinning against it and saying, “Does that make you jealous?” She was looking up at you mischievously. Then you look away again, the other way so she disconnected from the corner of your lips.

Wanda walked forward so you were forced to walk back out of the closet and into her bedroom again. She closed the closet door behind her and nudged you backwards so you were forced to sit at the edge of her bed. She placed the strap down by your hip.

“Does that interest you?” she asked and began to unbutton her blouse as she looked down at you sitting on her bed with the most innocent little eyes. “Thinking about how I had a cock shoved down my throat while I jerked two more off with my hands, watching them stroke their dicks to how I was getting my ass fucked underneath them, cum in my hair and on my tits, being violated by all those braindead men just so I could get off until I was — almost — just as fucked stupid as they were.”

She giggled when you were in a deep stupor, eyes following her fingers and listening to her every word. She slipped her blouse off her shoulders and let it slip to the bedroom floor before working on her shorts, unbuttoning the top then unzipping it, revealing a maroon pair of panties that matched her bra.

“Well, you don’t have to think about that anymore,” she said when she was now only in her lingerie. She held your chin in her hands and tipped your head up to look at her. She stepped forward between your legs so your face was perhaps only an inch or two away from her tits. “Because what’ll be far more interesting is what I’m going to do with you.”

Wanda leaned down and kissed you, and with her other hand, began undressing you. You helped her and she couldn’t help but blush seeing how eager you were to have sex with her. She kissed down your body as she continued to undress your body. 

“Besides, honey, it’s different,” she muttered against your shoulder as she kissed up to your neck. “It matters to me who I’m having sex with. Sex isn’t just a thing you do. It’s more than that. It’s about connection and passion, though sometimes it can be purely shallow. Like it was that time.

“But it’s far sexier doing it with someone you connect with. Don’t you feel the same?” 

You met her eyes when she lifted her head, her hair coming loose from the hair tie that had been holding it back neatly through the day. “I agree,” you said to her.

Though you spoke little sometimes, overtaken by feelings of nerves and overwhelming libido, Wanda understood you completely. She liked how soft-spoken and sensitive you were. She couldn’t wait to have someone so delicate and gentle rough-fuck her from behind. How terribly she wanted to have you moan in her ear, telling her how much you loved her pussy.

She ran her hands up your sides, caressing your body with gentle admiration and affection. She kissed the swells of your breasts. “You’re such a sweet girl, Y/N,” she cooed and stood up once she fastened the harness around your hips. She brought your head against her chest and kissed your temple. She was so affectionate and was full of so much passion. Her touches were so soft as she led you further up onto the bed and climbed on top of you. Her hands rounded her body and she unclipped her bra so she could discard it onto the floor. 

“Wanda, you’re so gorgeous,” you uttered as you ran your eyes up her body.

She allowed herself only a moment or two to blush at your compliment before she ran her palms up your chest and rubbed her still-clothed centre against your cock. “Are you just going to lay there and talk about it the whole time?” she questioned.

You gripped her hips harshly and pulled her down onto you so you could reach her lips and kiss them. Your hands adjusted their positions and you flipped her around and got on top of her, eliciting a tiny giggle from the older woman.

Moving down her body, you gently flicked your tongue across one of her erect nipples before you suddenly bit down on it, causing her to yelp and reach up to cradle the back of your head. You kissed the plain of her stomach, nipping at the soft flesh and running a flattened tongue over the stretch marks over her hips. She made a noise of appreciation and continued petting your head, watching you cover her body in your delicate traces of adoration.

Her hand moved to the side of your face and lifted your head, allowing her to turn onto her stomach and lift herself onto her elbows. When you straightened onto your knees, she lifted her ass into the air and pressed back against your strap.

Wordlessly, Wanda looked back at you over her shoulder with eyes that dared you to go further and an ass that stroked the length of your cock in the most mesmerising way you’d ever seen. 

With shaky fingers, you pulled her panties to the side and found her wet cunt sticking to the fabric, pink folds glistening and sticking out from between gorgeous smooth thighs. Not being able to help yourself, you leaned down and ran your tongue through her pussy, making Wanda shudder. She tasted unbelievably good. 

Your own cunt throbbed and you knew you had to do more. You parted from her sticky mess and pressed a kiss to the hood of her clit before straightening again.

Wanda hastily dug through the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a clear bottle then reached back and handed it to you. Quickly, you squirted the lube into your hand then lathered your cock in it. Wanda took the bottle back and discarded it somewhere on the bed, uncaring of where it ended up for the time being. 

She whimpered when you ran the length of your cock along her cunt, especially when you took her folds between your thumb and forefinger and ran it right through. The lubed strap slid beautifully across the delicate pink and Wanda felt herself trickle down onto her throbbing clit.

Wanda encouraged, “Don’t rush if you don’t want to. That makes me feel really good.” 

Her panties threatened to slip back into place and you became impatient and pulled back a bit, tugging her panties down her thighs and from her ankles.

“Someone’s impa–” Wanda was cut off suddenly when you shoved your cock into her without warning, making her gasp and flinch forward, eyes squeezed shut as she was forced to adjust to your size. It didn’t help that you immediately began thrusting into her, making Wanda nearly lose her balance and fall forward. But she kept herself up with her ass in the air for you. 

She didn’t have time to think of how shocking it was that such a quiet and docile girl like you had such fire brewing within her, for she was immediately overtaken by her desire. 

“Pull my hair,” she instructed between groans and you obliged, reaching forward and taking a handful of her shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. “Tighter,” she said, and you tightened your fingers into a stern fist, pulling Wanda backwards and watching as her back curved into a beautifully-curved arch.

“Oh, that’s right, Y/N!” she yelped as you quickened your hips against her. “Perfect.” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as you watched her ass redden and bounce from the harshness of your thrusts. 

Wanda reached back to get your attention. “Spank me,” she told you.

Following her instruction, you brought your hand up and back down to deliver a harsh spank to her ass. You truly couldn’t believe the effect it had on her. She lost balance and laid flat against the bed, her arms being unable to hold herself up as she squealed out. 

You spanked her repeatedly like she wanted, each time eliciting a tiny whimper from her with half her face buried in her blankets. You pulled your cock out of her and rubbed her throbbing clit with the pads of your fingers. She groaned when you left her and she looked back at you, watching as your eyes ran over her pussy. 

Her cunt was swollen and so beautiful, the trimmed tuft of dark hair and the shade of soft pink glistening from the juices dripping from her hole that squeezed around nothing, desperate for more of your cock. 

Her pussy was so, so perfect.

“Y/N,” Wanda said, speaking with a gentle rasp to her voice. “I can only be patient for so long. I need your cock.” She said it with a soft smile on her lips, and although her shoulder partially-shrouded it, you could see her cheeks were tinted a soft pink as she’d watched you look her over with such overwhelming admiration. 

You pressed a kiss to her opening then straightened back up, repositioning yourself against her. You were distracted momentarily when you looked down and saw her looking up at you, green eyes still so full of appreciation for you. 

Then suddenly she repositioned herself and turned onto her back. She sat up for a second and wrapped her arms around your waist before pulling you down onto her. Her lips met yours in a gentle, passionate kiss.

Wanda was amused by how distracted you were by her and she kissed your cheek while she reached down and entered your cock into her opening herself. Her legs wrapped around your hips and she tightened them around you, moaning into your ear as you slowly entered her again.

“Say that I’m a desperate slut who loves to get fucked.”

“W-Wanda,” you panted. “You’re a desperate slut that wants nothing but to get her pussy fucked.”

“That’s right,” she purred, her thighs tightening around your hips. “Mommy’s just a dirty bitch who’s nothing without a cock filling up her filthy fuckholes. Ah… Don’t you like that, Y/N?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and focused on fucking her how she liked, and a part of you almost felt bad for the way she degraded herself for no other lover you’d ever had has ever spoken like that. But fuck, Wanda was right — it was hot. 

“I-I like that, mommy,” you confessed.

“Oh, I know you do.” She pet the back of your head. “Make mommy come, angel. I’ve had such a hard last few weeks, baby. Doesn’t mommy deserve to feel good? She does, doesn’t she?”

You opened your eyes and nodded, the sincerity in your eyes as you agreed that Wanda needed to feel good after the last few weeks making her melt. “I wanna make mommy feel good…” you mumbled. “Make mommy come.”

Wanda groped her breast then twisted her nipple between her fingers. You leaned down and wrapped your lips around her other hardened bud, making her moan out and arch her back up against your body.

Feeling her lower stomach tighten with a familiar, beloved pressure, Wanda wrapped her legs around your firmly and crossed her ankles against your lower back. She manually fucked herself up against you, bringing her hips up and meeting yours repeatedly in desperation. It was a messy out-of-sync attempt at first as you continued to thrust into her, but the both of you soon found a rhythm with Wanda fucking herself and you pounding her back into her bed.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she mewled into your ear. “I’m–”

She was cut off when her orgasm was wrenched out of her, and she arched her back up and clung onto you, her arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you close. Her fingernails scratched down your back and she cried out loudly, throwing her head back and exposing her neck.

You released her nipple and kissed up her neck until your lips reached her cheek and you could watch her orgasm come over her, your other hand cradling the side of her head as her eyes clenched shut and her jaw was slack, a guttural cry being pulled out of her.

Then finally she slumped back down onto the bed tiredly, her body a sore and sweaty mess of weak limbs. She shook with the tremors of her orgasm’s aftermath and you fell to her side, hugging her around her waist and burying your face in her sweet-smelling hair. She reached up and intertwined her fingers with your hair, fingernails gently scratching at the back of your head.

“That was the best sex I’ve had in a very, very long time,” she huffed out. She’d forgotten how good it felt to have sex wanting to have every string attached. 

Wanda turned her head and looked at you. “Y/N,” she said seriously. She cupped your cheek with her hand and stroked her thumb against your soft skin. “I want to commit to you. And you only.”

You perked up and lifted yourself onto your elbow. “So we can… date?”

She laughed and pulled you down so she could kiss your cheek. She spoke against it, “You are the most unassuming, sincere person I have ever met.”

“I-Is that a yes?” 

“That’s a yes, honey.”

You practically beamed and Wanda could only laugh again, feeling such a warm burst of joy spreading through her at the sight of you and how happy you looked.

“I’ve never started dating someone right after having sex with them,” you said, looking down at her with your head above hers. Your hand was on her stomach, drawing gentle shapes against it.

“Does that bother you?” she asked quietly, lifting both her hands to either side of your face.

You shook your head immediately, the happy smile reminiscent of a small puppy. 

A large smile pulled at Wanda's lips. “You are a terribly, terribly lovely girl, Y/N,” she said then kissed you. When she laid her head back down and looked up at you, the both of you exchanged a silent stare in which every hope for your relationship was conveyed in the silent fondness you shared looking at each other.

Wanda turned her head and looked at the clock on the nightstand. “I think we can get away with making me come one more time before we have to go back.” She moved herself closer to you and had you lay down beside her. “Make me come with your fingers.”

She spread her legs and rubbed her fingers against her wet folds while she tucked her other hand between your legs and met your cunt with them. She slid two manicured fingers into her pussy at the same time she entered you. 

Eventually after a few moments when she’d become bored of herself, she pulled out and took your wrist, placing your fingers against her warm pussy. You started fingering her while Wanda continued with her own hand still tucked between your thighs, gentle and smooth and ensuring you could follow her lead, feeling with your tight walls the way she carefully fucked her fingers in and out of you.

“You feel amazing,” she uttered against your lips. “So wet.” She leaned forward and tugged at your earlobe with her teeth. “I wanna see you come for me.”

Wanda quickened her fingers and you did the same, following her obediently. Soon, the both of you were exclusively reliant on each other for your releases, mutual pleasure tying the two of you together in the sweaty meshing of your bodies amongst Wanda’s soft bed sheets and heavy exhales from your mouths.

Finally, with Wanda holding herself back until she felt you near your orgasm, the both of you came together, tightening around each other’s fingers and for a moment making it seem like you shared a body, crying out against each other and feeling the other come around their fingers as they felt themselves riding through their orgasms. 

A few minutes later, the both of you were a cluster of two warm bodies, limbs entangled with each other. Your head was on Wanda’s chest as she stroked your hair and held your hand, your other idly running its thumb across the stretch marks that went up the side of her stomach.

The strap had been removed and was laying by the bottle of lube Wanda eventually found so she could be reminded to clean it properly later. 

“Why all of this so suddenly?” you asked, looking up at her from her shoulder. “I mean, bringing me home and then confessing and everything.”

Wanda hummed and circled a lock of your hair around her forefinger. “I’d just had it on my mind for a while, and it’d been so long since I last had you to myself,” she explained. “So I suppose when we got time alone, I just couldn’t wait anymore.”

“Agatha said you were jealous earlier.”

Her face contorted and she looked down at you as if she thought she hadn’t heard it right the first time. At the sight of you and realising you were serious, she looked away and attempted to conceal her embarrassed expression with a laugh. 

“What? Why would she–” She tried to chuckle, but it came out sounding nervous. “Agatha doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” she insisted with a shake of her head.

Then after a moment, more seriously albeit still hesitant, she asked, “Why did she say that?”

“She said you looked jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” Wanda asserted. “I wasn’t.”

You smiled, and for the first time, Wanda didn’t catch onto the subtleties of your expression because she was occupied trying to obscure her own. It didn’t take long for you to catch onto the fact that she truly had been feeling jealous earlier.

“Besides,” she said, “you’re mine now, so…” She looked over at you and pulled you close so her body was against yours. “No reason to feel jealous anymore, is there?”

With a grin, you climbed onto her lap and Wanda placed her hands on your hips. You leaned down so your foreheads were pressed against each other. “No reason at all,” you answered.

Wanda kissed you and you felt her grin widely against your lips. 

“Good,” she said.

Neither of you realised nor would you care if either of you remembered that you’d both been expected back at the festival nearly forty minutes ago.

[crystalxwitch]

Work Break - W.M

summary: You're working underneath the blazing sun at the Maximoff house until Wanda invites you inside for a drink…and more.

tags: MINORS DNI!! smut, fingering, choking, finger riding, powerbottom!Wanda, praise

word count: 3.5k

The sun burns relentlessly down on you, your white top clinging to your chest, droplets of sweat running down the valley of your breasts. Wiping a hand down your face, you take a second to catch your breath. Your muscles ache from the uncomfortable kneeling position as you hammer in another nail in the wood. 

You love your work as a landscape gardener but sometimes you forget the downsides of working outside in the blazing heat of the Valley Village. On the bright side of it, the location is home to hundreds of rich families that are always in desperate need of talented workers such as yourself. Those people hate to get their hands dirty which results in your high salary and full schedule. 

Feeling someone's eyes on you, your eyes dart to the side. At first, you think that your mind is playing games with you but behind the lacy, white curtain hides a shadow. A shadow that you come to recognize after one week of working in this garden.

Wanda Maximoff. 

She is the picture-perfect housewife living at the end of the road. The slightly older woman has everything that one could want. A husband. Two sweet, little boys.

Her eyes trail over your sun-kissed skin, halting at the sight of your collarbone. Wanda swallows heavily, shaking her head ever so slightly to get herself out of the trance. You blink, feeling the corners of your mouth tuck upright at the observation. The expression of amusement teases your eyes, lifting a brow as the redhead clasps her hands together. The wedding ring shimmers in the sunlight, reminding you of the circumstances.

~

"Do you want something to drink?"

Your attention is pulled away from your task as the honey-like voice fills the silence, cutting through you like a sharp knife. Wanda stands on the porch, wearing a dress that you have never seen before. It's a yellow sundress with very thin fabric for the hot temperature, ending midthigh. 

She wears her hair down this time, gone is the tight bun that makes her face look cold and hard. Wavy red locks are brushed over her shoulders, building a stark contrast to her yellow sundress. You subconsciously lick over your dry lips, straightening your back to look a bit more presentable which is impossible knowing that your hair must be falling out of your messy bun by now and sweat clinging on your forehead.

"Oh, I don't know if that would be wise. I shouldn't waste my time with useless stuff to minimize my work hours." You use her words from last week against her, innocently batting your eyelashes. "Unless you insist on it."

She quickly nods. "I do."

"Really?"

She hums, pointing to the sun. "I can't have you working in my garden during these temperatures. What would the neighbors say if they found you passed out on the grass?"

You grin. "I would dare say that they wouldn't care."

"That's not true…of course, they would come to your aid. We're not monsters, y/n, even if you'd like that. Wouldn't you?"

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, fixing your appearance in the reflection as best as possible. Scrubbing your hand with soap, you remove the dirt from your hands while being careful not to destroy the perfect-looking bathroom. Everything seems to have a place in this house. In the end, you even wash your face with cold water. On the one hand, it's to wash away any remaining sweat droplets. On the other hand, it's to cool down your overheating cheeks which aren't pink because of the sun but because of a certain redhead waiting for you in the living room.

Back in the living room, Wanda hands you a cold bottle of beer. With a small thanks you take a sip, humming at the cool taste on your hot tongue. You continue standing as the older woman sits down on the white couch, sinking into one soft cushion. As you don't make any intentions to follow her actions, Wanda pats down in the place beside her and clicks her tongue. 

"I won't bite." She jokes, scooting a few inches to the side to make even more room for you to sit. "You're standing all day long, you should rest your legs."

You sit down next to her, making sure to not let your knees touch each other. "Thank you." 

Wanda scoots closer, tilting her to the side and letting it rest on her hand. Grabbing the bottle of beer out of your hand, she places it on the coffee table. Your blood rushes into your ears as you look at the carpet, slowly moving closer to her face. The redhead places her wine glass next to yours, continuing to not utter a single word. The silence is deafening as you can hear the birds chirping in the distance through the closed door. 

"Would you be against it if I made myself a bit more comfortable?" She finally breaks the silence, raising a brow in question. 

"N-no, of course not."

"Great."

Without a single warning, Wanda closes the last few inches separating your bodies, and lifts one knee over your legs. With one knee on either side of your body, she lowers herself down on your lap. It all happens so fast that you can only blink. Your eyes are glued on the hem of her dress, watching it shift as she moves ever so slightly to not press fully against your thighs.

Wanda grabs your chin between her forefinger and thumb, tilting your head upward. "Look at me."

Your breath catches in your throat as her eyes catch yours, hues of emerald green and some small dots of light brown shining brightly. You never were this close to her before, therefore not realizing the extent of her beauty.

"You're really pretty."

Wanda smirks at your shy, new behavior as her forefinger draws a line over your collarbone and up your neck to cup your jaw. "Well, thank you, darling. I must admit that you are a sight for sore eyes too."

You blush furiously at that, not able to hide the clear embarrassment on your face as another wave of shivers rocks through your body.

The ends of her hair tickle your face as she leans forward, making sure to grind her hips ever so slightly down on your thigh. You clench your hands into fists, forbid yourself to make the first move, and touch her bare thighs. Her yellow sundress moves up her legs even further as she lifts her arms around your shoulders, drawing you in to run her nose over the side of your neck. Wanda hums deeply at the scent of sunscreen and sweat that inhumanly turns her on more than she would want to admit. 

"I must ask, did you ever get yourself in trouble…working for those unhappily married wives who are staying at home all day while their kids are at school and their husbands not returning until the late evenings?"

"You have to be more specific for me to answer that question."

"I just mean that-" Her hand runs over your shoulder, squeezing your forearm and groaning at the feel of strong muscles. "The sight of you in those tight-fitted tops must be difficult to endure for some women."

"You could be right with that. But nothing ever happened." You nod, tilting your head back to watch her lust-filled eyes trail over your chest. "Are you having difficulties too, Miss?"

She bites down on her lower lip, shamelessly tugging on one side of the strap. "You could say that."

"Do you want me to leave?" You ask, liking the game that you were playing with each other. "I won't bother you anymore if I'm out of your sight."

"No. No don't you dare leave…but I'd like you to remove it. Maybe it'll help with my difficulties."

"Remove what exactly?"

"Oh, don't play the innocent one here." Wanda tugs on the white fabric, revealing another inch of your stomach but not ripping it off your body like you want her to. "Do you not understand yet that I want you?"

You nearly faint at the huskiness of her voice as her lips smile lazily down on you. Her fingertips barely move over your abdomen but your body reacts nevertheless, clenching your thighs together as a shot of electricity rushes down. Wanda nudges her nose over your jaw, her hot breath hitting your lips and fanning over your overheated face.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You scratch your neck, eyes darting to the side as her eyes burn through your soul, reading you like an open book. "It's hard to think properly around you. You're distractingly beautiful."

"What a sweet girl you are under all that hard attire. Do you want to make me happy, darling? Over the last few days, I had a really uncomfortable feeling in my stomach and I believe it all has to do with you. It would only be fair if you'd be the one to solve it since you're the cause of my misery."

Your lips tremble at the anticipation of what's to come, slowly getting rid of the anxiety and reaching out to touch her hip. "I'd be happy to help you out."

"Why don't you continue sitting like that and let me do the work? I don't want to exhaust your talents all at once, that would be too much to ask of you."

Removing your top and throwing it carelessly over her shoulder, Wanda skims her mouth over your skin without touching you directly. It drives you insane with want. The rich perfume of hers that reminds you of vanilla messes up your head, every sense consumed by her. She pulls back with a small sigh, taking in the sight of you and your damn sports bra. 

Your eyes dart to the door at the far end of the hallway, having a clear look behind the blurry glass door. "Do you want to take this somewhere else?"

"I can't wait any longer," Wanda responds with a hushed voice, growing needier with each second when she doesn't have your fingers inside her. "I need you."

"What if someone walks in?" You voice out your thoughts, clenching your jaw as the redhead presses down on your thigh. "What if we're caught?"

"The boys aren't to be home for the next two hours and my hu- Vision won't return until nightfall. He never gets off of work early." Wanda explains in a rush, tugging at your free hand that is laying on the couch and placing it on her naked thigh. "Nobody will interrupt us. Now…please, I need your hands on me or I'm going to get insane."

You flex your hand on her leg, holding on to the last ounce of self-respect. "What do you want me to do to you?"

"Many things." She bites down on your earlobe, sucking it inside her warm mouth. "But most importantly I want you to fuck me."

You lunge forward, crashing your mouth on top of hers. Wanda smiles into the kiss, quickly getting the upper hand again and leading the kiss. Her tongue slips inside your mouth, exploring each other with a sort of desperation. You taste the red wine on her lips, getting drunk on the essence of her. You leave wet kisses over her neck, down to her collarbone. You're careful not to leave any marks, not wanting to cause trouble with her husband when he'd discover them. Wanda sinks her fingers into your hair, tugging on it as she pushes your head further downward. The message is clear as your mouth brushes over one hardened nipple that pushes against the fabric of her thin summer dress.

"Pull it over my boobs, I need to feel your mouth on them."

"But it'll loosen." You don't want to ruin her expensive dress on the first day that she's wearing it. "It must've been expensive."

"I don't care." She presses a finger against your lips, already reaching for the neckline. "I'll buy another one."

Pulling the fabric of the dress over her chest, you nearly black out at the sight of her braless chest. Wanda bites down on her lip, tugging it behind her teeth and grinning at your reaction. Cupping the back of your head with her hand, she tugs you towards her chest. Her eyes flutter close, totally in bliss as your mouth wraps around one nipple. Drawing circular motions around the spot with your tongue, you hum at the taste of her. 

"That feels amazing." She breathes out, petting your head with lazy strokes of her hand. "Such a pretty girl with a talented mouth."

Spurred on by her praise, you trace your fingers over her stomach and beneath the hem of her dress. Her breath hitches as your fingertips trace over her swollen lips, feeling the wetness seeping through the fabric. Teasing her while remaining over the fabric, she begins to rhythmically meet your hand to let your fingers bump against her clit. This goes on for another minute or two, the older woman quickly growing restless as her moans get louder. 

"That's enough teasing for now…I want to feel you without any layers separating us."

You remove your mouth from her breast with a wet pop, licking over your lips at the sight of her dilated pupils. Waiting for her to make the next movement, you gasp as she pulls up your hand and lifts them to her mouth. Wanda parts her lips, sucking two of your fingers inside her mouth and gently scraping her teeth over the tips of your fingers. Swirling her tongue around your fingers, she continues to hold eye contact with you. Wanda moves her head up and down your fingers, obviously imitating something else that makes your brain short-circuit. Your heart flutters in your chest, watching her in awe as she removes your fingers with a loud pop. 

"Let me ride your fingers."

She pushes the fabric of her underwear aside, not wasting any time as you immediately move a finger through her slit. The wetness of her salvia makes it easier but matter of fact it wasn't necessary since her cunt is drenched. 

"Oh god, you're so wet already." You moan, swirling her wetness over her swollen clit. "Have you been this wet all morning, watching me work from behind the curtain?"

Wanda's eyes widen as her mouth falls open to protest, but you silence her quickly by speaking first.

"Don't think that I didn't see you spying on me, Miss. I might have my eyes on my task but the glares of someone else don't get past me easily."

You swallow her groan as two of your fingers push past her entrance. Her eyes screw shut as her eyebrows furrow and it's easily the most beautiful sight you have ever seen. Wanda's head lolls back, bathing in the pleasure that courses through her blood system. Your free hand gropes her breast, playing with her nipple. As time goes by, Wanda is unable to kiss back anymore and you move your mouth over her jawline, layering her skin in kisses. Wanda pants out hasty breaths and sinks her fingernails into your shoulder as if she's afraid that you'll slip away.

"Faster…oh, please." 

Quick to oblige, you fuck into her with a faster pace. Helping her ride you, you time it right to push your fingers faster into her when she lowers herself down on them. Your fingers pick up the pace, hearing the results of your actions reach your ears as her wetness coats your fingers and wrist. Her body practically melts into your touch as you curl the tips of your digits, brushing over that spongy spot right behind her opening. 

Wanda whimpers in response, shakily nodding and gasping for air to fill her lungs. "Right there, that's the spot."

You suddenly feel bold, which must be the fault of having a goddess ride your fingers and gasp your name. "Yeah?"

She shudders above you. "Y-yes."

The feeling of her soft, velvet walls wrapped around your fingers keeps you going, fucking her faster to hear her become a whimpering mess. You might imagine it but it's like you are on fire, the sun from before nothing compared to the wildfire inside you. You part your finger a bit, stretching out her walls. Her thighs twitch as her hips roll forward as she drops back down on your lap, switching between bouncing and humping your hand.

"Another one, baby." Wanda presses her forehead against yours, her chest heaving as her trembling breath hits your mouth. "Be a bit rougher, please."

You blink rapidly, not believing what's coming out of the mouth of the innocent-looking woman. "What?"

"You heard me." Her mouth returns to your ear which becomes one of the favorites she has done over the past couple of minutes. "I want you to use me, fuck me until my mind goes blank. Make me scream your name."

You're lost for words once again. But you brush the astonishment aside, focusing on her words and pushing a third finger inside her walls. Wanda groans at the stretch, needing a few tries to get her rhythm back. She bounces on top of your lap, her breasts deliciously wriggling at each hard thrust. Moving your hand into a new position, creates friction on her small bundle of nerves, resulting in another wave of whimpers. Her walls clamp tightly around your fingers, sucking you in and welcoming you with another gush of wetness that trails down your hand.

"Fuck…just like that, you're doing so good. You have no idea how long you have been plaguing my dreams. The moment I saw you in that damn top I couldn't get you out of my mind."

Her words electrify something deep within you, scraping your teeth teasingly over her stiff nipple. "Tell me more."

"T-the moment I went to bed, flashes of you kept me up all night. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't get to rest unless I slipped my hand beneath my underwear and fixed the problem that you caused." Wanda says through clenched teeth, tugging on your head to expose more of your neck to her. "Fuck, I was so turned on that my fingers pushed me over the edge in less than three minutes. I never came that hard before by myself. I had to clasp a hand over my mouth to not scream your name and wake up my husband."

A trembling hand reaches for yours, placing it on her throat. Dazed eyes, clouded with desire, look down at you with a silent plea. Your thumb traces over her pulse point, feeling her erratic heartbeat. Her eyes lose their focus on you, becoming nearly crossed-eyed as she climbs higher and higher.

"Choke me- oh." Your fingers press down on the side of her neck, making sure to apply pressure but not on the spot where it would cut off her airway. "Such a good girl, following my orders."

You squeeze your eyes shut as a wave of warmth wraps around you like a blanket. Wanda places her hand on top of yours, encouraging you to squeeze harder. 

"You like that word, mhm?" It's like her mocking turns her on even more, holding on to you for dear life as her head tilts to the side. "My pretty, little girl."

You hold back a pathetic whimper as she sucks a mark on the front of your neck, knowing that it'll probably last for the next few days. "Yours."

"Fuck, I'm going to come. You're going to make mommy come, baby. Just a tiny bit more-"

The name sends you into autopilot, the only thought in your mind is to make her fall apart around you. Flicking your thumb over her abused clit and hammering your fingers into her heat, Wanda loses her rhythm and freezes above you. You give her delicate neck one last squeeze and suck on her nipple, knowing that the stimuli would send her over the edge. With your mouth and hands being occupied elsewhere, you're unable to silence her as she lets out a scream, whimpering your name over and over again. 

Her arousal drips down your hand, leaving a wet spot on your trousers. Moving your hand away from her neck, you pull her closer and let her calm down. Aftershocks rock her body as the redhead buries her face into your neck, pressing her nose into your skin. 

"We should've done this earlier."

[themidnightcrimson]

nightclub ∗ eo

summary: in which you and your ex, lizzie, catch up in a nightclub bathroom.

words: 5.1K

warnings: top!lizzie, bottom!reader, fem!reader, angst if you squint, strap (r receiving), lots of french kissing, alcohol, really nasty fucking, there may be errors bc i was so feverish writing this

this post is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

The neon blue and purple lights blinded you as you stepped into the club. Loud, pulsing music boomed in your ears as you inhaled the scent of alcohol and mixtures of over-drenched perfumes on the bodies of the crowd of people dancing. It was a warm room compared to the cool, spring night air.

Your friends had goaded you to come to the club tonight. It was a VIP establishment, made apparent by the celebrities and people of notoriety that you had already spotted in the large, luxurious club. Lizzie’s friends were your friends, and as such, you were invited to the after party for the Love and Death premiere even though you hadn’t talked to Lizzie in months. Whatever you had together fizzled away after an accumulation of arguments and misunderstandings. Lizzie was a slippery fish to catch, and you didn’t have the strength or energy to catch her. It was depressing.

They vowed to you that she wouldn’t be there tonight, which you believed independently from their promises because Lizzie never came to these kinds of things. You knew she would attend the primary premiere party earlier in the afternoon across town, but this kind of late-night event was never her thing. Your friends wanted you there not to celebrate her show, but to just be there with them after hiding yourself away for so long.

Still, walking through the crowd, you couldn’t help but dart your eyes around to catch a familiar blonde head or recognizable green eyes. You thought you heard her voice at one moment but realized it was a stranger talking that just so happened to sound like her. It was dizzying, knowing that there was a slight possibility she would be there, that you would face her after everything and face all the words that were left unsaid after your parting.

Relief washed over you when you found your group of friends nearby, who spotted you and waved you over. “Y/n!” they greeted you, giving you extra tight hugs and prolonged greetings.

You were wearing a thin little black dress, strapless at the chest and fading into a sheer skirt that rested above your knees. It wasn’t anything too fancy, but it was sexy enough to grant you leering looks from various people around. The validation soothed you, if you admitted it.

Your friends, donned in the purple hue of the club lights, knew they had to ease you into the night. They huddled around you in an area of white couches, ordering drinks after drinks and just catching up on life, as much as you could catch their voices amidst the music and voices. A few women and men approached you within the first hour, asking for a dance or to buy you a drink, which you politely declined each time although your friends tried to peer pressure you into accepting them. As recovered as you were, you just weren’t ready for a new stranger yet. You needed the comfort of your friends, of familiar places and familiar voices.

It had been hard to avoid Lizzie the past week, with the billboards and videos promoting the show, but you had managed well enough. Seeing her in a picture or video wasn’t enough anymore to evoke feelings within you, good or bad. She was a stranger now. Just another face you knew in a past life.

In due time, you and your friends mingled onto the dance floor. You were never much of a dancer, but several shots were enough to make you relax and dance to the music. It was freeing, moving your body to the music so loud it drowned out any thoughts your mind could formulate. Your friends danced all around you, holding onto each other, pairing up, sometimes letting a stranger come in and dance with you, grabbing at you, making unwanted advances that you declined by giggling and dancing away back to your friends. Somehow, more alcohol got in your system—some of your friends might have went back to the bar. You were at the perfect sweet spot now, aware and coherent, but relaxed and euphoric.

In a matter of an hour, you desperately needed to sit down and breathe for a minute. Your friends were relentless engines, staying on the dance floor while you struggled through the crowd, elbowing through until you arrived back to the couches and plopped down, catching your breath. You ordered a glass of ice water and chugged it, putting the chilled glass against your hot forehead so you could cool down.

“Taking a breather?” a man’s voice asked, and you looked up to see a guy your age standing in front of you, holding a drink.

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckled, wiping the condensation from the glass away from your forehead. “Dancing is tiring.”

He chuckled, and you could hardly see his face under the purple and blue lights. “Well, I was going to ask you to dance, but I guess would it be okay if I took a breather with you?”

You hesitated, setting the glass down and reaching down to your heels that were aching your feet. “Um…” You glanced across to the crowd of dancers, trying to point out where your friends were. You couldn’t see them, but you knew they were close enough because you could hear one of your friends’ goofy laughter. “I don’t know, I think my friends will be coming over soon.”

You didn’t feel like meeting anybody new, or making small conversation that would be pointless by the next morning.

“You sure? I could buy you a drink.” He had a friendly demeanor to him, and he wasn’t being exactly pushy, but you would’ve appreciated it if he just got the hint and moved on.

You smiled politely and waved your hand in the air. “No thanks.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he said, laughing and casually tucking his hand into his pocket. “Just one drink. Hey.” He lifted his hands in the air. “I’m a nice guy.”

You could have barfed on him right there. Instead, you just sighed and said, “Look, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“Or I could get you another water,” he insisted, and you started to feel anxious in your stomach. You glanced back over to the crowd and tried to find your friends, but you couldn’t, and this guy stepped in front of your view. You looked up at him, getting nervous at how close he was now. You tried to think of some other way to reject him, still not wanting to be rude or harsh even though you were getting irritated. Your friend’s laughter was not in earshot anymore, and there was no else in this corner of the club—until your eyes saw someone walking towards you.

She came through the crowd of people almost like a mirage. Even from far away, under the dark purple and blue lights, her eyes shone like glittering moons, the lights casting off the sculpted heights of her face that you could still remember leaving kisses on. Her lips were pursed in neither a smile nor a frown, eyes fixated on you as she floated towards you.

She was wearing a beige suit, as per usual, and your heart broke a little at seeing that her hair was longer now. It went right past her shoulders, effortlessly styled into sandy blonde waves. She was holding a martini as she came and stood beside the man.

The guy noticed that you were staring right past him, so he turned around and jumped upon seeing Lizzie standing there like a statue behind him. “Oh,” he said, and it was obvious that he instantly recognized her. His mouth formed the word, “You’re—” before he stopped and looked back to you. “Oh, my bad.” He must have just then recognized you from old paparazzi pictures. “I’m so sorry.” He looked at Lizzie, whose eyes darted at him as she tightly smiled, and he practically scurried away.

Your throat felt tight as you looked up at her, every inch of you turning into stone as if she had Medusa’s glare. It became hard to breathe suddenly, and your face burned like molten lava.

“Hey,” she said so casually, her pursed lips pinching into a half-smile.

“Hi,” you whispered, knowing that she definitely couldn’t hear your meek voice over the loud music, but she knew what you said, anyway.

“Can I sit?” She gestured to the cushion beside you, but you felt like you were about to pass out. You faintly nodded, so she walked over, taking a seat on the cushion beside you. It was a respectable distance, but you could feel the cushion dip with her weight, so you scooted over a little. She sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulder as she leaned forward and sat her martini down on the table.

Her perfume struck you like a bolt of lightning. That sweet nostalgic smell that you had breathed in so many times, that had stuck to your clothes for weeks after you stopped talking, that you sometimes picked up in the air at random times and in random places, and it always brought back a rushing flood of memories that pained you. You turned your head, pretending to just scratch your nose as you tried to rid your sense of her beautiful but painful scent. It was overwhelmingly suffocating for you.

“I didn’t expect you to be here tonight,” her velvety voice spoke loudly over the music. “When I saw you across the room, I thought I was hallucinating.”

“Yeah, me too,” you mumbled, leaning forward and grabbing one of your friends’ half-empty drink and downing the rest of it. You could hear Lizzie take a sharp breath as she realized what you were drinking for.

“You didn’t expect me to be here tonight? At the party for my own show?” she asked with an edge of humor in her voice. You still couldn’t bring yourself to look over at her.

“You were never one for appearances.” You cleared your throat and wiped your nose again, trying to look anywhere else but her. There were a silent few moments where you could feel her looking at you. God, you hated how her gaze still made you feel like you were under the only beam of sun in the whole world, how it burned through the side of your face and made your nerve endings go crazy.

“You look beautiful tonight,” she said softer, and finally, you looked at her. She was sitting towards you, her legs crossed, hands clasped at her lap. No matter how calm she looked in the face, how much she could tame the ocean of emotions in her eyes, Lizzie’s hands always told her truth. They were fiddling with the ring on her thumb, twisting it around and around. It was funny how she did that without even realizing, and you’d seen her do it probably a thousand times.

“You do, too,” you whispered. She looked magnificent. Her skin was glowing, her eyes were complimented by her dark makeup, her hair looked perfect. She smiled softly, that familiar dimple forming in her cheeks.

A few more beats of silence ensued, but you kept your eyes on her, focusing on keeping your breathing slow and steady.

“I missed you,” she mouthed, and you could only hear the faintest sounds of her voice strings cracking.

“You didn’t miss me until you saw me just now,” you blurted, unsure if it was the alcohol or time between you making you so honest.

Her perfect eyebrows sewed together. “That’s not true.” Her hands stopped fiddling. “I have—I miss you every day.”

It felt impossible to keep looking at her—because you knew she was being truthful. With every second you saw that beautiful face, your breath left you more. You tore your eyes away and stared mindlessly at the table, rubbing your nose again to get her perfume out of your scent.

“Hey,” she said softly, to get you to look at her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. “Y/n.” You felt her scoot closer to you on the couch, her knee touching yours. “Look at me, baby.” That single word wrenched your stomach into such painful knots you almost doubled over.

“Don’t call me that!” you blurted, finally facing her. She looked taken aback at first, but she eased in, reaching out for your face. Her gentle, soft hand cupped your chin, and it instantly eased you. It was one of her old tricks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, leaning in so close she only had to whisper for you to hear her. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. I wanted to, but I didn’t know… I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

Her eyes trailed over your face, her other hand slinking across the back of the couch so that she had you completely in her corner. Her knee was still touching yours. You caught the slightest twitch of a smirk on her lips as her thumb grazed over your chin, the very edge of it catching your lip so lightly you could hardly feel it. Her touch, her simple touch, soothed your heart. You had missed it, you had missed her so much that you felt imbued with a vibrating energy at seeing her now, at feeling her hand on your face.

“Lizzie—”

“Did I tell you that you look so beautiful tonight?” she cut you off, her lips curling further into a smirk like a cat’s tail. Her eyes were trained on your mouth, and this time her thumb rubbed your lower lip and bent it down a little. Her irises, tinted by the club lights, were flooded by her widening pupils. You wanted to crawl inside there, to drown inside those shiny emerald pools.

“You did,” you remarked, not helping the little smile on your lips.

She touched your lip again, biting her own. There was no air between you now, only her minty breath fanning on your buzzing lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Your immediate thought was yes. Lizzie was irresistible to you. She exuded comfort and seduction in the same beat. There was an undeniable magnetic field between the two of you that drew you together any time you were near each other. That you learned in the very beginning when you first met her and tried to resist her. You just knew that Lizzie was going to be that one ex you went back to time and time again. There was no stopping it, no defying gravity, so you nodded. You would always be hers, anyway.

Lizzie leaned forward and let her lips graze yours, pausing to breathe the same breath, her nose nestled against yours, eyelashes tickling the tops of your cheeks. Finally, she closed in, holding your chin as she kissed you. It was more overwhelming than her perfume. It was gentle, as she always was at first. It was pure and nostalgic, a sort of intimate greeting. Then it grew hotter, and so did your skin. Her lips moved eagerly against yours, tongue teasing your lower lip but not going in. The sound of her breaths getting faster twisted a knot in your stomach, dizzying you in her poisonous kiss as her hand landed on your mid-thigh. You grabbed at her shoulder, letting out a small whine that seemed to break her from her trance.

Lizzie broke from the kiss with a gasp, moving her open mouth to your neck as she caught her breath, her upper body leaning against you now. The air around you was electric as she breathed against your neck, your hand weakly holding onto the shoulder of her blazer.

After a few moments, she pulled away from your neck, looking at you with inebriated eyes. Her mouth half-smiled, the tip of her tongue rolling against the back of her teeth as she stared down at your now puffy lips.

“Dance with me,” she huskily demanded, grabbing your hand and standing up.

You could barely get a hold of yourself as she pulled you up from the couch and led you to the dance floor, realizing that a simple kiss from her had made your knees weak and legs wobbly.

Almost forgetting that you were in a club with dozens of people, you felt shocked by all the bodies that Lizzie led you through until she found an open spot on the floor. Turning to you, she yanked you closer to her by the hand.

The music playing was sultry now, with deep, throbbing bass and incoherent yet sensual lyrics. Lizzie’s hands held your hips as you started to move in rhythm with the beat.

“You’re just as demanding as I remember,” you said into her ear so she could hear you. She only sucked her cheeks and squeezed your hips, keeping you tight against her.

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember,” she said back, to which you playfully rolled your eyes.

“That’s the third time tonight. I’m getting tired of it.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love my praise.”

You eyed her competitively as she smirked, tonguing her cheek deviously.

For a few moments, it was just you, Lizzie, and the music. You looked into each other’s eyes, somehow silently speaking all the words you wanted to say with them. There was no more distance between your bodies, and your arms wrapped around her shoulders as she guided you against her. You and Lizzie didn’t have to speak to have a conversation.

Your body grew hot when she leaned down and nosed her way through your hair to start kissing your neck. The room grew darker and warmer as you felt her suck on your neck, right on the sweet spot she knew you had. Your hand trailed up to her hair, tangling itself in those soft, delicate waves. She was all over you now, consuming you like wildfire. Her kisses grew wet and hard as she trailed them up to your mouth before kissing you again on the lips, biting your lower one and piercing it with her teeth before releasing it. You gasped and kissed her again, just as eagerly as she was.

Lizzie’s hands trailed around your hips, her rings rubbing into your flesh as she grabbed hard at your ass, pushing your hips into her. It was then you felt that she was packing, and through the desire that throbbed through you, you wondered if she knew you would be there tonight or if she had packed for some random stranger she was expecting to take home. Either way, you grinded into her, feeling the vibrations of her growl against your mouth. Her body grew rigid for a moment, pressing desperately close to you, her hand crawling up the center of your back and up your neck until she grabbed your hair and turned you around, pulling you against her from behind.

“Lizzie!” you exclaimed as she pinned you against her, her hand crawling up your throat and gently holding it. The music, the lights, her touch, her voice—it was all just too much. She grabbed your hips and grinded you against her, her piece rubbing right into you.

Her lips came to your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe. “I want you, y/n.”

She was bunching your skirt up so she could touch your thigh, grabbing and clawing at it. You hoped to God no one was filming anywhere near, or else the Internet would explode with pictures of Elizabeth Olsen and her ex y/n practically dry humping in a club.

“I need you,” she growled again, her body pressed hot and close against yours so that you were starting to break a sweat. “Please.” She kissed sweetly at your neck, hands on your hips loosening their grip so that she wouldn’t come off as too coercing.

Turning around to look at her, you tugged at the collar of her blazer, watching the absorptive lust in her eyes that was obviously becoming too much for her to bare. Biting your lip, you smirked and nodded.

The door to the club bathroom was practically kicked open as Lizzie burst through it, dragging you in behind her. There were also purplish blue neon lights in the single bathroom that was extremely small and a little dingy for being a respectable establishment. You could still hear the muffled music from inside the bathroom.

As soon as the door closed, Lizzie forcefully pushed you against it. The force of your back hitting the door knocked the breath out of you, but she was on you, grabbing your face and kissing you harshly. Her hand trailed down to reach beside you and lock the door.

“You can’t wear things like this,” Lizzie growled, breaking the kiss to look down at your sheer skirt, grabbing two fistfuls of it and pushing it up your hips so she could see your thighs and the little lacey panties you were wearing under it.

“You don’t like it?” you husked, turned on at the way she was looking up your skirt while biting her lip hard.

“It’s something I would’ve never let you wear out alone,” she murmured, looking back up at you as she reached one hand between your legs, cupping your pussy. “It’s just too fucking hot.”

Gasping, you grabbed at her blazer as she started wildly kissing your face and neck, and you could already feel your makeup melting off.

Moving your panties to the side, she pressed her fingers through your folds, instantly moaning at how wet you were. “Fuck, y/n.” The curse sounded like pure sex dripping from her lips.

Leaning forward, you dove your mouth to her neck and started biting her soft skin, inhaling a concentrated scent of her perfume where she had applied it to her pressure point. You almost couldn’t believe she was real, that this was your Lizzie pinning you to a club bathroom door, her hand up your skirt and in your panties.

“I can’t take it,” she whined, grabbing you and moving you to the adjacent wall, pushing you up against it, making sure her hand was cradling the back of your head as she pinned you to the wall.

Lizzie’s breaths were ragged as she fumbled at your panties, ripping them down your legs and kicking them to the side with her heels. She grabbed at your bare pussy, coming back in for another hot and heavy kiss on the mouth. You struggled to breathe, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and trying to meet the force with which she was kissing. She was becoming desperate and needy for you, her tongue shoving its way through your lips and settling into your mouth. She grabbed your face with her free hand and tilted it so she could press her tongue further into your mouth, the tip tickling the back of your throat as she devoured your mouth and moaned into it. Her hand massaged at your clit, relishing all the wetness between your legs that she knew was all for her.

“Fuck,” she cursed again, pulling away from the kiss to catch her breath, your mouths moistened with each other’s. Pressing her face into your hair and inhaling, she reached down to her belt with her free hand.

Desire throbbed through your feverish body, feeling like Lizzie’s presence had sobered you up and then got you drunk again. She tugged harshly at her pants, practically ripping them open and reaching in to take out her strap. She licked her lips and breathed heavily through her mouth as she looked down for a moment. She paused before suddenly wrapping her arm around your butt and lifting you up, causing you to shriek and hook your legs around her hips. She pressed you against the wall, keeping you completely stuck between it and her, her mouth on yours again.

“Lizzie,” you breathed, feeling dizzy at the passion frenzied in the air between you.

Upon hearing you say her name, she stopped, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other holding her cock. She looked up at you with as clear vision as she could through her tainted desire. “Can I? Please?”

You put a hand to the back of her head, tangling your fingers through her hair. Of course, you wanted her to, but you had never seen her quite so desperate for you like this in a long time, and you wanted to draw it out.

“Please,” she repeated, leaning down to bite at your shoulder. She was pressing you so hard against the wall you could barely breathe, let alone move. If she wanted to, she would.

“Please what?” you asked innocently, as if she wasn’t standing there holding her strap towards you in anticipation.

Her eyes flickered up to you, shadowed under the dim neon lighting. “Please let me fuck you,” she begged, nipping at your lips and kissing all over your face, pressing harder into you. “Please, please, please.”

You didn’t want to cut her off while she was hot, so you dug your nails into her back and whispered, “Yes.”

She nearly gasped when you said it, her teeth sinking hard into your neck and making you cry out. However needy she was before, it was even worse now as she tore into your skin and steadied herself, lining the tip of her strap with your entrance and guiding it inside you all at once with one forceful snap of her hips.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out, knowing no one outside would hear you through the music and the thick walls.

“Fuck, fuck,” Lizzie cursed against your neck, adjusting you so that your legs were wrapped tight around her and you were locked between her and the wall. Grabbing at your skirt again, she yanked it up around your hips and held them as she withdrew her hips and then thrust them forward again.

To be honest, you hadn’t been with anyone since her, which you wouldn’t tell her because you knew there was an element of jealousy in the air at the thought that either of you might have been with other people, and Lizzie always packed large. Your eyes squeezed shut as she thrust herself into you hard and fast, giving you no time to adjust.

“God, I’ve missed you,” she exclaimed against your shoulder, her hands moving to your ass and grabbing it hard as she fucked you against the wall.

Keeping your ankles hooked behind her, you tried to spread your thighs wider so it would be easier, but even with that and how wet you were, she was just too big and you were too tight.

“Lizzie, slow down,” you pleaded, grabbing at her blazer and leaning your head back against the wall so you could breathe.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, looking up at you and kissing your jaw gently. She listened as best as she could, slowing down her thrusts, but it was obvious she couldn’t help how hard she snapped her hips each time.

After a few moments, you started to adjust, and she started to lose control again, and the searing pain faded away into unfiltered, throbbing pleasure. You grabbed needily at her as she hammered into you, the strap moving just right against her own clit that she started to moan into your neck.

“I’ve missed your pussy, fuck,” she grunted, and the dirtiness of your words made you realize the dirtiness of the situation. How she was fucking you wildly and desperately, pinned up against the wall, in the club bathroom under neon lights, after having just seen her for the first time in months only some twenty minutes ago.

There was no space between you, only as much as she would allow to withdraw her hips between each thrust, and you thought that Lizzie might crush you to death against that wall.

“Oh, fuck!” she moaned, fucking into you even harder as her heavy breaths filled your ear. You turned your head to kiss at the side of her face, trying to soothe her. It only drew her attention to your mouth, because she turned and caught your lips with her own, shoving her tongue down your throat again. The sound of your head hitting the wall caught her attention, so she lifted one hand away from your ass to cradle the back of your head. You were helpless, pinned mercilessly there against the wall, and all your senses being filled with Lizzie was building a pressure in the pit of your belly. She was so deep inside you, stretching you out, kissing you so hard and deep, your body was overwhelmed.

In an instant, your orgasm crashed over you, walls squeezing around her cock as you practically screamed into her mouth, her moans mixing with yours. You trembled, knowing that if she wasn’t keeping you against that wall with her own body and strength, you would’ve slid right to the floor.

You could tell Lizzie was close, but she was not stopping as she chased her own high, fucking you through your orgasm and making another one quickly build behind it. You were a melted puddle in her arms now, weak and overstimulated, stretched out and used.

Lizzie finally pulled away from your mouth, instead choosing to occupy her mouth with biting your shoulder. “Fuck,” she groaned, her thrusts getting sloppy and unhinged. Her hand on your ass was digging her nails into your flesh and undoubtedly leaving bruises, but you didn’t care. You wanted her to cum.

“Cum for me, Lizzie,” you whispered, scratching at her warm back underneath the blazer. “Cum for me.”

She did, fucking harder into you than before, crushing you so hard against the wall that your back ached and you could barely breathe. You held onto her, holding her head as she trembled and shook and moaned against you for several moments until finally she sighed, putting some pressure off you so you could breathe again. It took her several minutes to come down, and you stroked her hair every minute of it, kissing her cheek as she nuzzled her nose into your hair for comfort.

Finally, she pulled away and looked at you, her makeup smudged and hair wild, with a gleam of sweat on her forehead. “Holy fuck,” she whispered, looking down as she carefully pulled out of you, noticing the way you winced a little. She tucked her strap away and buckled her belt, gently setting you down on the floor. You could feel how bad your back ached now, and how weak your legs were. Knees buckling, you hooked an arm around her shoulder, and she held you up against her, grinning down at you devilishly.

“God, I missed you.”

“Will you pick my underwear off the floor, please?”

[crystalxwitch]

13| Sweetness - W. Maximoff

Summary: A sweet conversation about your tattoos leads to a funny realization..

Masterlist

"Oh, oh, oh…here she comes."

"Don't laugh." She whines, limping inside the living room. "This is all your fault."

You stand up from the couch. Chuckling softly, you quickly walk up to her which isn't difficult because she's as fast as a snail. Placing your arm around her waist, you let her lean herself on you and walk to the couch. You don't want her to fall over when you are the cause of her current state.

"It's not like you didn't want it. You were the one to wake me up again for - what was it? The third round?"

Her face heats up. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But it looks like you're in pain." You muster her body, hanging on her legs that remind you of jello. "Can you feel your legs?"

She pouts. "Barely."

"Oh, my poor girl." You press her down on the couch. "Just sit down and let me take care of you. I turned you into this mess so let me give you the princess treatment."

"I won't need it." Wanda shakes her head. "I'll be fine."

"No arguing or I have to shut that pretty mouth of yours with a gag." You respond, trailing your fingers through her hair and grabbing her chin between your thumb and forefinger. "You want that?"

"You wouldn't."

You lift an eyebrow. "Try me."

Wanda holds eye contact. The air cracks around you. You hold your breath. You won't be the one who loses. Thankfully, the redhead breaks first.

You rub your thumbs over her thighs, hoping to release some tension. She groans, leaning her head back against the sofa. You know that sound very well by now. Smiling softly, you continue your actions. Kneeling her sore flesh, Wanda sighs deeply and closes her eyes.

"That feels nice." She breathes out.

"Yeah?" You ask, looking up at her through your lashes. "You poor thing…I really exhausted you yesterday."

"Don't sound so coy about it."

"I feel proud of it." You tease, smugly grinning as the redhead stares daggers into your skin. "Making a pretty woman come three times in one night is pretty good for my ego."

She presses her finger against your mouth. "Shhhh."

Instead of pushing it away, you press a kiss on the tip of her finger. Her eyes hang on your mouth, a dreamingly expression in them that reminds you of last night. How her mouth fell open in an o shape as she tumbled over the edge. Or the way her eyes rolled into the back of her head. You're never going to forget, the images burned into your mind.

Wanda snaps her fingers in front of your eyes. "Y/n? Did you hear what I just said?"

You blink. Once. Twice.

"Huh?"

Wanda laughs. "I asked you if you've eaten yet. Where did your mind just take you?"

"Heaven."

She wipes her hand over her face. "Jeez, the question should be: What did I do with you yesterday? You're like a new person all of a sudden…all charming and nice. Where's the grumpy girl that wanted to throw me out of my cabin?"

"Our cabin." You correct her. "We have agreed on sharing it. Unless, you want to continue the discussion."

"It's still mine…I rented it first."

"Just tell yourself that. The next time we'll see Nat we will just ask her about it. This needs to be settled once and for all."

"Deal." Wanda agrees. "We'll see who is the winner."

"Speaking of breakfast...I'll make you a tea, Wands. You haven't had your favorite tea yet and it's 11 am in the morning." You explain, hearing her disapproving grumble as you rise off the couch. "It will be good for you. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"No." She grabs your hand, yanking you back. "No, don't leave me. I want to cuddle with you for a bit longer."

You theatrically groan. "You're awful clingy today."

Her hands immediately drop back to her sides. "Oh- I'm sorry…I thought-"

"I'm kidding." You cut her off with a kiss. "Don't worry, princess. I like it."

You never want her to doubt it. But sometimes your quick tongue gets the best of you. She places her hands on top of yours that lie on her jaw. Her eyes flicker between yours. You look at her attentively.

"Truth?"

You nod. "Truth."

"Let me tell you something true too. You make me feel all fluttery inside." She admits, placing your hand on her chest. "I never experienced that before…I thought it was a lie when people said that they get butterflies around the become they l-...like."

She's so sweet. Her words light up a spark within you. The same sensation that she is describing. Wanda presses her lips together.

You hum. "You like me?"

She rolls her eyes. "Isn't that obvious?"

"It is…I just want to hear you say it." You say quietly. "Hearing it will show me that this isn't just a perfect little dream."

"Okay." She grabs your face - rather aggressively- and places a kiss on your forehead. "I-"

The ends of her hair tickle your skin. You laugh, bright and bubbly. A sound that reminds you of childhood and pure happiness. She makes you happy. It's maddening.

"Like-" Wanda grins, placing another kiss on each of your cheeks. "You-"

"Very-" Her voice is breathy, sending shivers down your spine. She presses one last kiss on your mouth. "Much."

You giggle. "That's more like it."

"Do you still believe that this is a dream?" Wanda asks, trailing her fingertips over your jawline and down your neck. "Or do I need to continue, darling?"

"Let me think…You? Forever." You hum, catching the glint in her emerald eyes. "This? Not any more thanks to you."

She laughs, throwing her head back. "What a charmer you are."

"Only for you."

Wanda tilts her head. "I sure hope so. You'd be insane if you do it for anyone else."

You pull her closer, letting her taste your breath as your lips are only inches away from her mouth. "Exactly…I'm just insane for you, my little witch."

She pushes you away, glaring at you with burning eyes that feel hotter than the sun rays falling into the room between the curtains. "Oh, don't you dare start with that nickname."

If you wouldn't be so used to her stares already you'd burn yourself. Nevertheless, this feels like dipping a careful finger into a hot pot. Wanda might be older but she looks more like a small lizard than a roaring dragon.

"I'm sorry, sorry. I'll take it back." You reassure her, hiding a mischievous grin tugging on the corner of your lips. "You're my sweet, darling princess. I remember now. You're also far too pretty to be an old, ugly witch hiding in the depths of the woods."

"You're not making it better."

"Let me show you." You start kissing her face, moving down her jawline up to her earlobe. "Being in the presence of you makes it hard to think and get proper sentences out."

Carefully, you turn her around until her back is facing you. Wanda leans her body against the side of the couch, relaxing deeply as your experienced hands rub the tension out of her muscles. You move your hands over her shoulder blades. Pressing your thumbs deeper into her muscles, you earn a quiet groan from her. Her head rolls to the side as you press a gentle kiss on the newly exposed skin. Pulling the fabric of the sweater down her shoulder, you paint every inch of her with butterfly kisses.

Butterfly. Kisses.

Your furrow your brows, coming across something on her flesh that isn't a red mark. "I didn't notice this last night."

Faint lines. You run your thumb over the small tattoo. The wings are curved over her skin, only covering an inch of her beautiful body. Maybe you didn't notice it because it's so inconspicuous.

"It's pretty."

"Really? I got it on my eighteenth birthday…my brother and I sneaked out of our family home, taking the last bus to the city center."

"Your brother?" You ask.

She hums. "Pietro…my twin brother."

"I didn't know you were a twin." You whisper, glinting eyes moving to her red mane. "Does he have red hair like you?"

"He's a brunette. Even though he currently has a phase where he likes to paint it every possible color to damage his hair until it falls off." She laughs, rolling her eyes at the simple thought of her twin brother. "He's in his thirties and runs around with silver hair."

"He sounds like a very funny guy."

"He really is…You'd love him. And he'd probably love you too." Wanda trails off, looking out of the window. "He's a charmer just like you."

"Aw, don't get jealous. I'd never like your brother more than you. He doesn't have something that you have."

"And what would that be?"

A beat later, you say, "A pretty smile."

But the pause was too long.

Wanda turns around. "You wanted to say something else."

"Noo…not at all."

"Y/n."

"Wanda." You say in the same tone of voice.

She doesn't let loose. "Say it."

You shake your head, biting down on your tongue. "I don't think you'd like what you hear."

"Is it what I think it is?" She asks.

"It depends…What are you thinking about?"

Her eyes narrow.

She hits you on the shoulder. "You only like me because of that?!"

"No, no…I like you because of a lot of other reasons." You try to breathe evenly but her adorable fists pounding down on your chest makes it hard to breathe with all the laughter echoing through the room. "For instance, I like your obsession with tea and your concern about my caffeine addiction."

She stops her movements, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Go on."

"I like your love for animals. Even the smallest and slimy ones." The image of the frog appears before your eyes. "I can't understand it but I appreciate it."

"Every animal is adorable."

"Okay, Aurora." You tease, poking a finger into her shoulder. "With every day you prove to me that you truly earn yourself that nickname. The day you'll talk to animals is the day that I'll write a book about you."

Wanda hums, closing her eyes as your fingertips trace over the lines of the butterfly. "That would be a really special gift."

"Does it have a special meaning to you?" You ask after a few seconds, awaiting her answer. "It's okay if you don't want to te-"

"Change." She answers in a heartbeat. "I- I craved to be free and independent…having a life on my own instead of the constant fear of judgment."

You want to wash the sad expression off her face. It hurts to see her this way. Intertwining your fingers, you softly pull her back to reality. She blinks. Then she smiles again. Your heart relaxes again. You sit up a bit straighter.

"My turn."

A look of puzzlement crosses her face. "You have one too?"

You nod. "Yes."

"Where?"

You grin. Wanda lets go of your hands as you move them up your face. Her eyes hang on you the whole time without blinking. You pull down your bottom lip. Wanda's eyes get wide. This is exactly the reaction you longed for.

Wanda shakes her head, not believing it even though the word is clearly written on your skin. "You're joking."

The faint lines of the tattoo are barely visible anymore, fading away over time. A friend of yours owned a tattoo machine and as reckless as you were as a teen you willingly played the guinea pig for her. You probably won't tell the redhead that you had a crush on her during that time.

"Princess?"

You release your lip again. "I just had a little obsession with princesses as a child…never the prince in shining armor. Thankfully, it's not a spot that's easily visible."

"I can see that." Wanda places her hand on your jaw, leaning her head from side to side. "Is that the reason why you like to call me princess?"

"Yeah…next to the fact that you most definitely talk to animals and keep it secret from me."

[wndaswife]

i will reiterate this, i will block you if you are someone who writes smut on tumblr and does not have their age written anywhere, especially if you make no effort to deter minors from interacting with your blog because you are most definitely a minor yourself

it’s your responsibility as a blog that posts sexually explicit content to ensure you write for adults as an adult. doing anything else in my eyes means you are a minor or at the very least hoping to appeal to minors, not sure which is worse

thank

[crystalxwitch]

Important: If you don't have your age written anywhere on your blog (or/and are a minor), you'll be blocked during the next few days!

Since I have over 1k followers by now it will be a slow (but hopefully short and quick) process and finished next week.

Please read my navigation post for more information! I have a second acc linked on there too if you think that you were wrongfully blocked.

[crystalxwitch]

I have some free time again and want to do some small drabbles (never done this before). So if you have any requests, you can send them to me <3

[crystalxwitch]

Hey I love your stories so much and I was wondering if you could do a part 2 to spin the bottle where Lizzie sees someone flirting with us at school so she gets jealous and shows us we belong to her. Loll sorry if it’s not specific enough or to forward idk this is my first time requesting anything I just love your writing 😂😂😂

Heyy xx I'll totally do a part 2 if you want it <3 I'll just change it to Wanda because currently I don't want to write ff about Lizzie anymore 🫶🏼

[crystalxwitch]

I'm absolutely in love with your barn in the woods series

Heyyy xx thank you so much! I'm glad you like it 🫡

[crystalxwitch]

12| Second Round - W. Maximoff

Summary: basically just smut

Warnings: smut! 18+, minors DNI| top!reader, bottom!Wanda, thigh-riding, horny Wanda can't sleep anymore

Masterlist

There's a sound of shifting in the quiet room. A breathy whimper makes your ears perk up. Is she having a nightmare? You sleeplessly reach out your hand for her. Wanting to place your hand on hers, you hope to calm her down. You hate to see her like this. 

Touching her upper arm, you slowly move your hand down. Another whimper escapes her mouth. Careful not to wake her up, you ever so gently follow her arm down to her hand. All the time you have your eyes closed. If you'd open them it would be harder to fall asleep again.

Shifting a bit closer, you realize that she takes up more space than usual. Her leg touches yours, probably laying on her back. Not thinking anything about it, you tuck your head closer to her hair. Feeling her muscles flex under your fingertips, you furrow your brows. Is she awake?

"I need you again."

That wakes you up instantly, the previous dream is nothing compared to the woman in front of you. You can't believe your eyes. Wanda has one hand between her spread thighs, staring at you with pleading eyes. Her fingertips move in lazy, slow circles over her clit. Your fingers stay on her arm, now laying on her wrist. 

Her teeth sink into her lower lip, trying to keep her sounds at a low volume. A light shiver overtakes her body. You lean closer until your lips touch her ear. 

"Are you that needy to touch yourself until you wake me up?"

Wanda stops her movements. "I- I'm sorry. You can go back to sleep…I didn't want to bother you. I ju-"

You smile, kissing her on her cheek. "Shhh, I'm just teasing you."

You pull her on top of you, your hands settling on her hips. Wanda looks down at you. Her chest heaves with shallow breaths. Goosebumps appear over her skin. You bite down on your tongue. 

"Show me again. Show me how to make you feel good."

"You want me to…touch myself." She quietly whispers, a pink flush spreading over her face. 

You nod. "Yes."

Wanda slowly inches her hand back down over her stomach. Spreading her thighs a bit, she open herself up. Your eyes are drawn to the spot between her legs, groaning as her fingers cup her pussy again. You give her an encouraging smile, squeezing her hips as her fingertips ghost over her clit. 

You nod. "Show me."

She squeezes her eyes shut for a second. Her stomach flexes as her fingertips begin to draw small circles over her clit. Slow. Careful at first. All the time, your eyes are fixated on her pussy, not wanting to miss a single second of the show. She blushes even deeper as the sounds of her pussy travel to her ears.

"Fuck, I can hear how wet you are." You groan.

The moonlight bathes her naked skin in white light. Her nipples harden in the cool air, begging for attention. Your mouth waters at the sight. How can she be this beautiful? Her whole body shudders as you lean forward, pressing a kiss on each of her breasts. 

"Pl-please, fuck me." Wanda whimpers, picking up her pace. "I need you, y/n."

You make it your mission to draw each moan and whimper out of her that wants to break free. The sound is like music to your ears. You never want it to come to a stop.

"Fuck." Her fingers dig a bit harder into your shoulders. "They feel sensitive."

You pull back to look at her. "You want me to stop?"

She lowers her hips down, pressing against your thigh with her fingers continuing to draw circles over her clit. "No…no, don't you dare stop what you're doing."

You grin. "Feels so good, doesn't it?"

She grinds a little harder down on your thigh. Rolling her hips back and forth, you help her with your hands on her hips. The redhead gasps, looking straight into your eyes as they get all hazy. Her wetness spreads over your skin, dripping down on the bed. She's climbing up the ladder to her orgasm quicker than she thought. What have you done to her? Wanda can't control her body anymore. 

"Fuck, that's it."

She sinks her teeth into her already swollen lip. Little whimpers fall freely past her mouth, not caring about being quiet anymore. Her wetness spreads over your thigh, coating it in her arousal as she rubs back and forth. One of your hands sinks into the back of her hair, forcing her back to arch all prettily. 

"Ride my thigh…just like that, baby."

You want to throw her onto her back right then and there. Wanda shudders, her hair faking over her shoulders as she places her hands right below your breasts.

"You look so pretty when you're whimpering." You praise her, cupping her breasts and rolling her hardened nipples between your fingers. "Such a pretty sight. All mine to observe. All mine to touch."

The movements on her clit get sloppier, not able to keep up as her mind gets all mushy. Your hand on her hips urges her to ride your thigh. Brushing her hand aside, you replace her fingers with yours. She violently twitches as your fingers find her clit. Falling forward against your chest, she buries her face in your shoulder. Small curses fall past her mouth. 

"You're doing so good, Wanda." You move her on her back, needing to fuck her properly. "Hold it in for me. Don't come just yet."

She moans your name. Over and over again.

You cup her face. She shakes underneath you, staring up at you with soft eyes. Every rational thought is long forgotten. Her brain doesn't function as it should. You're the only person in her mind.

"Yeah…scream my name." You smile from ear to ear, pressing kisses over her chest. "Let me hear you."

Teary eyes stare up into yours. Her mouth hangs open in an o shape. She throws her head back as you enter her with two fingers. Her legs pull you closer, needing to feel your skin against hers. She's sensitive from your earlier activities. Sore. But she can't help it. Something in her screams for your touch. The moment she fell asleep she dreamed about being fucked by you again. It's maddening.

"M- More…please, fuck me harder." Wanda moans, gasping and panting for air.

You turn her on her stomach, pulling her hips up to have more room. Her face falls into the cushion, not able to move a muscle anymore. She groans as your lips leave bruising kisses over her back. The marks on her front are not enough. You want to paint her whole body in your kisses. Mark her so the world knows she's mine. Even just for tonight. Hopefully, forever.

"Take it like a good girl." You breathe against her shoulder, fucking your fingers deeper into her while your other hand sneaks underneath her stomach. "So pretty…such a pretty girl." 

She clenches around your fingers. Hard. Your thumb continues to work on her clit. Your pussy hovers above the back of her thigh. All this time, your needs have been rising to an unbearable height. Watching her. Hearing her. It is enough to nearly come. 

"You get so adorable when you're fucked hard, princess. Just look at you getting all whiny from getting stretched open."

You grind against her legs, needing to relieve some tension. Wanda's moans get louder. You don't know if she's getting closer or feeling your movements. Dropping your forehead against her shoulder, you curl your fingers against her sweet spot. Your clit just rubs against her skin the right way, the friction heavenly as you feel yourself getting closer as well.

"So…so close." Her voice comes out muffled, her face pressing against the pillow. "Fuck, I'm nearly there. Just a bit more."

Entering a third finger, you stretch her out. Wanda moans, louder than ever before. The light burn at first immediately transforms into sweet pleasure.

"My cute little mess…is it hard to think?" You ask, gasping in the same rhythm as her. "You're just my greedy girl, just aching to finally come." 

Incoherent noises escape her mouth. She can't think anymore. The coil in her stomach snaps. Her mouth falls open, screaming your name. 

You groan deeply. "Go ahead…give me what's mine."

She grabs the sheet while wildly buckling her hips against your hand. The thought of coming together brings you over the edge. She's a quivering mess underneath you. Small aftershocks twitch through her spent body. You gently turn her on her back, wiping the strands of hair out of her face with your clean hand.

You sigh, feeling the aftershocks leave your body. "I've got you."

Wanda grabs your other hand. Without asking, she sucks your fingers into her mouth. You groan at the sight. Her pretty pink lips around your three fingers nearly make you grow wet again. Her tongue swirls around the pads of your fingers. Sucking off her cum, she hums softly. The taste is sweet on her tongue.

"So pretty." 

Wanda smiles all silly and bright. "Yours."

You leave soft kisses over her jawline up to her earlobe. Making your way down her neck, Wanda breathes heavily. You kiss her deeply…hoping to communicate your feelings through it. She's too exhausted to kiss you back properly, letting you guide the kiss. Leaving a little kiss on the tip of her nose, you lay down on the side.

She chuckles. "This is better than a sleeping pill."

"I'm always happy to help you out, princess." You whisper, placing your hand on her wildly pounding heart. "I'll always be there if you need me."

Wanda hums, pressing a kiss on your lips. You close your eyes. You want to burn this night into your mind. She leans back on her back, inching closer until her head rests on your chest. Drawing lazy circles over your skin, the redhead stares up at you. Her beautiful eyes never fail to knock the breath out of your lungs.

"I'm so going to regret this tomorrow." She says in a hushed tone. 

"Why?"

"Because I won't feel my fucking legs."

[crystalxwitch]

11| Good girl - W. Maximoff

Summary: You use the free time with her for different things..

Warning: smut! Minors DNI, bottom!Wanda, top!readers

Masterlist

"Watch your step."

Wanda gives you an annoyed glare. Natasha left like two hours ago, leaving you two to your normal day-to-day activities. Teasing each other until the other one breaks. You run your hand over her back as you walk past her, dropping your hand lower on purpose.

"When are you finally going to keep that pretty mouth shut? Just for one second." She groans. "Since two days ago you're more talkative than usual."

"Might be because you're on my mind all the time. " You grin, winking at her. "I just can't help it."

She tilts her head. "Sweet words don't get you out of this."

"Dirty words then?" You raise a brow. "I'll do anything for you."

She laughs, shaking her head. "Oh, is that so? I don't believe you."

"That is a mean thing to say, Wanda. Don't I deserve some respect from you?" You pout, slowly walking up to her. "I'm only nice to you and this is how you thank me?"

Wanda looks up at you, humming softly and leaning her head from side to side. "I can be nice…when I want to."

"I can try harder if you want?" You trace one finger over her collarbone. "Where were we before we got so rudely interrupted by our guest."

She shrugs. "I don't know…did you want to wash the dirty dishes?"

"Noo. Not even close." You roll your eyes, grabbing her chin between your fingers and tilting her head up. "Let me help you remember."

Subconsciously, her fingers wrap around your upper arm. Her pupils dilate as your thumb brushes over her lower lip and drag it down. Wanda's breath shudders.

You love to tease out new reactions of her. You wonder what else you might discover about her in the next few days. It wasn't a lie when you admit that she's on your mind constantly.

You press a kiss on her cheek. "Miss Maximoff."

Wanda tightens her hold around your upper arm.

"Wanda." You whisper, placing a butterfly kiss on the tip of her nose. "Do you like that name?"

"Or…"Trailing your mouth over her face, you press another kiss on her other cheek. "Princess."

The redhead hums, skimming her fingers underneath your shirt. Her fingernails dig into your back. You swallow, moving your nose over her neckline and up her ear. Wanda takes a shaky breath, closing her eyes. You try to hide the devilish grin and fail. Teasing her like this gives you more satisfaction than it should be allowed. Time to bring out the big guns.

Your lips brush over her ear. "My good girl."

She presses you against the nearest wall. Your breath catches in your throat, her hands roaming over your waist. Desperately. Longingly. Her lips crash down on yours, swallowing each word that wants to break free. 

You spin her around. Wanda whimpers, your knee coming up right between her legs. Rolling her hips against it, she seeks more friction. You trace your tongue over the front of her teeth. Her skin is burning underneath your touch, a force of nature begging you to press her closer to you.

"Wanda." You drag your lips away from her mouth, closing your eyes to not rush forward again at the sight of her dazed expression. "Are you sure?"

"Yes…please. I- I want you."

"Yeah?" You lazily smirk. "What exactly do you want me to do with you?"

She grabs your hand, placing it on her chest. "I want you to…fuck me. To show me how much you want me too." Her heart pounds wildly in her chest. "Do you feel what you're doing to me? That's all because of you, darling."

"Is that so? Mmh, I'll gladly fulfill your wish." You sink your fingers in her hair, yanking her head backward to scrape your teeth over the front of her throat. "Such dirty wishes that swirl around in your innocent head, princess. It wants me to fuck those filthy thoughts right out of you."

Wanda groans as your hands run down her back, groping her ass. "Don't say stuff like that."

"Whatever do you mean?" You lick a line down the side of her throat. "It's the truth. Or do you want to deny the fact that all you can think about since yesterday was me between your thighs, sweet girl?"

"I- no, don't try to-"

"Do innocent girls get turned on by the way I talk to you, messing up your underwear?" You pull her closer by her belt. "Want me to take a look and see for myself?"

She keeps silent. With a raspy laugh, you trace your fingers over her jeans. Trying to hold eye contact, she fails as your fingers unbutton her belt and lower yourself on your knees. With one hand around her leg to keep her steady, you pull her jeans down. Wanda places her hand on your shoulder, gazing down at you with wide eyes.

Stepping out of her jeans, you throw them carelessly in the nearest corner of the room. Wanda's legs tremble. Your fingers skim up and down the top of her thighs. You press a kiss on each of her knees. Rubbing small circles over the back of her thighs, you make your way up her leg. After each inch higher, you place a kiss on her skin. Coming closer to your destination, your mouth begins to water. If you close your eyes, you dare to say that you could already smell her arous-

"How about you put these lips to work instead of talking all the time." She yanks your head up. "Upstairs."

~

Her eyes flicker between yours. "Should I…do you want me to-"

You push her down, cupping her jaw between your palms. "This will be only about you tonight. Let me make you feel good."

She scoots up on the back of the bed on her elbows, her eyes hanging dreamingly on your lips. Her red hair falls over her breasts, covering the beauty that lies behind them. You slowly move on top of her, sensing her nerves as her lips tremble. She's no virgin…far from it. But something about this feels different. A good difference.

You quickly remove all your clothes, leaving you in just your lingerie. Good thing that you decided on the black lace set and not the strawberry one. God, that would've totally been a disaster. Wanda would've never let you live that moment down. Not at the first time.

"Are you feeling fine?" You whisper, gently tugging at the last garment around her hips. "We can stop."

Wanda shakes her head. "Don't you dare."

You chuckle. Running your thumb over the fabric of her underwear, your eyes stay glued on her face. You want to memorize each little shift in her expression. The small furrow between her brows when a breathy whimper slips out of her mouth. The slight tremble of her lips. The rosy flush in her cheeks.

You press a kiss against the inside of her thigh. Her muscles spasm. Little breathy noises escape her lips as her breathing picks up. She tries to hold back but fails miserably. Smiling like a fool, you slowly remove her underwear. Throwing it behind your shoulder, you spread her legs wider apart. Wanda squeezes her eyes shut.

"Don't…it's embarrassing when you do that."

"Why is it embarrassing? Am I not allowed to look at you?" You ask, leaning your chin on her knee. "I want to admire the art before I get to the examination."

Your eyes wander back between her legs. Her arousal already soaks her inner thighs. Innocent girl…sure.

"You're so wet already." You mumble.

"You only make it worse." She grumbles, the shade of her face changing from bright pink to scarlet.

You chuckle. "Want me to continue then?"

"Yeah, please."

She doesn't have to tell you twice. Breathing in her addictive scent, you leave one last torturous kiss right beside her pussy before you drag your tongue over it. Wanda whimpers, pressing her palm above her mouth to muffle the sounds. Gazing up at her, you inch your hand over her stomach, placing it over her heart. She grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly.

You rub your fingers over her skin. "Shhh, we're the only ones here in the span of forty miles. The wolves won't care about what's going on here. Let me hear you."

Wanda bites down on her tongue. You flick your tongue over her clit, earning a sharp gasp from her. Her hand squeezes yours tighter.

"Oh, god."

You smile, pressing a kiss high on her inner thigh. "Y/n…but I'll gladly be your new goddess, my princess. Maybe you'll praise me on your knees soon too."

"Maybe."

Running your tongue through her wet folds, you collect her wetness and swirl it around her small bundle of nerves. She's so hot under your tongue. You sink one finger into her, sliding in with ease. Holding onto her hip with one hand, you pump the other against her. Her breath shudders.

"You taste so good…I can't get enough of you." You send vibrations through her pussy, adding fuel to the burning flame that blazes in her core. "Sweet, darling, Wanda."

"You don't have to be gentle. I won't break."

You add another digit, feeling her wetness coat your fingers. She's already dripping down your hand. Wanda throws her head back.

Her hips raise off the mattress, trying to roll her hips against your face. You let her, humming deeply as your tongue draws circles over her clit. Arousal pools into your stomach at the sound and taste of her.

"Just like that...You're doing so well." She whimpers, sinking her fingers into my hair and tugging on it a bit harder. "Fuck, y/n."

Her accent wraps around your name. Your tongue moves in right circles over her nub.

"I love it when you say my name like that." You mumble, wrapping your arm tighter around her thighs to hold her still. "You sound so pretty, such a beautiful mess."

Her clit throbs underneath your merciless tongue. You look up at her through heavy lids. A burst of pleasure explodes in her abdomen. Her hips are bucking up towards your mouth.

Wanda's legs tremble. Violent shakes overtake her body, releasing around your fingers as her walls clenched tightly together.

You lazily flick your tongue over her clit, slowly letting her come down from her high. Wanda places her hands above her head, taking heavy breaths. Her breasts fall and rise in an irregular pattern.

You wipe the back of your hand over your chin, her juices dripping down your face. You muster her face. Wanda's lips are parted, swollen, and rosy red. Shivers appear all over her arms. Biting down on your tongue, you intently watch her next reaction. Her eyes widen. You pick up the pace again, two fingers still inside her. Emerald orbs meet yours.

"I- I can't go another round." She gasps, looking down at you. "I never-"

She presses her lips together.

"Breathe, princess." You remind her, pressing a sweet kiss on her lips. "Don't forget to breathe."

"Y/n." Wanda moans, trapping her lip between her teeth. "It feels so…sensitive."

Her legs press together, trapping your hand but making it harder to move. You click your tongue in disapprovement. She bites down on her bottom lip. Layering her body in your kisses, you flick your tongue over one hardened nipple. The sight of her dazed eyes makes your desire scream for her even louder.

"Take it for me, I know you can." You suck marks all over her chest, nibbling and licking over the spots. "Come on, princess. Be a good girl and spread your legs a bit wider."

The redhead rolls her head to the side, pressing her cheek against the cover. Shakily, she spreads her legs apart. A pink flush spreads over her chest.

You place a rewarding kiss on her chest right above her heart, tracing your tongue over the bruise next to it. She looks like a mess, painted with your marks. Your mess. She grinds her hips against your fingers.

"Yeah…now you're perfect." You push your fingers in and out of her, curling them at just the right spot that makes her eyes roll back in her head. "Those noises you make. Fuck, I can't get enough of them. You drive me crazy, Wanda."

You cup her other breast, flicking your thumb over her sensitive nipple. Wanda feels like she's going to explode. Her mouth falls open as you reach that spongy spot inside of her.

"Touch me there. Right there."

Moving your thumb over her clit in fast circles, you bring her even closer to the edge. You suck her breast into your mouth, swirling your tongue around her nipple.

"Y/n, faster." Small curses leave her lips. "F-fuck, just like that. Don't stop…don't stop."

Who would have thought that the redhead would have such a filthy mouth? You don't really care. All you care about is bringing her to her second climax. The fact that you'd be the first gives you the willpower to continue even though your wrist begins to hurt. You quicken your pace, pushing her body up and down the bed due to the force.

"Such a good girl, letting me fuck you just as you dreamed of. All I wanted this last week was fuck that nerve-wracking attitude out of your body." You grot out through clenched teeth. "Who would have guessed that all that behavior was just because you hated the way I made you feel."

You might have been slow and gentle at first but now you leave it all behind. Wanda hisses, tingles of pleasure mixing with sweet pain.

"I- I hated you." Her voice trembles, only a quiet sound in the thick air.

"I know…but look at how you drip around my hand, messing up the bedsheets. Doesn't look like hate to me."

Wanda groans. "Shut up and kiss me already. I'm so close again."

Swallowing her words, you slowly slip your tongue inside. She tastes herself on your tongue, a surprised sound filling the bedroom. You bite down on her lip, feeling the hot gasp of air against your face.

"Come on, baby, come for me." You thickly groan against her lips. "Let go for me."

Feeling desperate, she leans forward and kisses you sloppily. You meet the kiss with the same urgency, pounding your fingers into her.

She's so close. Wanda whimpers, burying her face into your neck and biting down - hard - to muffle her scream. You whine but nothing could stop you from finishing what you started. One last flick of your thumb over her nub pushes her over the edge.

The sounds are stuck in her throat as her body freezes. Time stops. Your blood rushes through the ears. Her legs spasm and her orgasm crashes over her like a hurricane.

At this moment, you are thankful that you don't have any neighbors within your ears reach. You hold her close, not letting go until every last drop of pleasure fades away.

She limply leans her face against your shoulder. Sweat glistens on her chest. Tired eyes flutter shut as she tries to calm her heartbeat. Wrapping an arm around her waist, you pull her closer. Running your fingers through her hair, she sighs happily.

"You'll be the end of me." Wanda smiles against your skin. "That was…something."

You press a kiss against her forehead. "You did really well."

[crystalxwitch]

10| Surprise - W. Maximoff

Summary: An unexpected guest disturbs your peace.

Masterlist

"Seriously?" 

Wanda shrugs her shoulders, holding onto the pan tightly. You need to work on her defense mechanism. A pan isn't exactly the best weapon. But better than nothing.

With small steps, you creep towards the porch. Not making a sound, you push the door open with a sudden shove and jump outside. With your hand balled into fists, you scan the area for anything unfamiliar. 

"What is it?" Wanda whispers behind you.

Your eyes land on something bright. You blink. It's still there. You blink again. Green eyes. You would recognize this blonde hair from anywhere. It's not a stranger. False alarm. You lower your fists. 

"Nat?"

The blonde grins from ear to ear. Your mind can't catch on to the sudden turn of events. Natasha is here? Wanda carefully nears herself to you again, the pan pressed against her side. A sound of confusion escapes her mouth as well. 

"There are my two favorite people in the world!" Natasha cheers, ignoring the small moment of shock. "Surprise!"

In two steps, the blonde is on the porch. She falls into your arms, hugging you with force and squeezing the air out of your lungs. You return the huge trying to push the thoughts surrounding the hows and why's away. 

"What are you doing here?" Wanda asks.

Natasha pulls back, turning her attention to the redhead. Wanda has a small furrow on her forehead. You take a step to the side so that Natasha can walk past you.

"A bit more enthusiasm, please. I thought you would be happy to see me." Natasha pouts her lips. "Isn't my surprise not to your liking?"

"Yes, of course!" Wanda immediately replies. "It's just…a surprise, that's all."

"Come here, little witch." She opens her arms, beckoning closer with her crooked index finger. "I'll let it drop when you hug me."

Wanda scoffs. "I would love nothing more than that, shortie.

You observe the interaction with a grin. Natasha is truly tiny compared to you both even though you aren't that tall. A hug later, you walk back inside the cabin. 

"I see that you didn't burn the house down…yet," Natasha says. "My prayers were heard."

"Why would you think that?"

Natasha gives the redhead an amused glare, biting down on her tongue. "Wanda, dearest…I don't have much faith in your cooking skills."

Wanda's mouth falls open. You want to defend her, but the blonde already continues to move into the living room. You and Wanda share a short eye contact, rolling your eyes at the same time. You chuckle, quickly following Natasha because you don't want her to notice you falling behind. Knowing Natasha, she would immediately question it and read more into it than there is…

That's not entirely true. Nevertheless, letting Natasha get wind of your new kind of relationship isn't in nobody's interest. 

"To be brutally honest, I thought you both would have killed each other already. Good to see that that didn't happen…a murderer would be bad for business."

"There's still time." Wanda quietly mumbles, too low for Natasha to hear but loud enough for you to understand it.

She's not happy about this surprise. But who can blame her after we were so rudely interrupted?

Natasha grazes her fingertips over the bookshelf. "Now…What were you guys up to?"

Before you appeared in front of the door? The blood rushes in your ears. You gulp, parting your lips but Wanda already comes to your rescue. 

"A few things to be honest…We went on a hike. We cooked together. Then we went to the pond an-"

"My pond." Natasha corrects her.

Wanda rolls her eyes. "It's not your pond, Nat."

"After what I did there…yeah, it is mine." Her voice holds something suggestive in it, giving the redhead a toothy grin. "I remember it as if it was yesterday. July 2020. Those were fun times."

You look at Wanda who's already staring at you with wide, disgusted eyes. It's not like you didn't warn her. Natasha crosses her arms in front of her chest, attentively watching the small interaction.

You shrug. "Told you."

Wanda turns away. A disgusted gagging sound escapes her throat. You chuckle, giving the blonde an amused glare. Natasha mirrors your expression, giving Wanda a gentle pat on the shoulder. It doesn't help the situation. She was in that water where she… She can't even think about it.

"Wanda, I didn't think of you as such a prude. You should be happy for me…that was a ten out of ten experience. I can only recommend it to you."

"Shut up." Wanda's hand presses down her stomach. "I'm going to puke."

Natasha shakes her head and clicks her tongue in a warning. "Na-ah, not on my carpet."

"That's what you're worried about?!"

Natasha takes a careful step in her direction. "No…maybe a tiny bit."

Wanda grumbles. Not able to watch this any further, you clear your throat. Two pairs of green eyes land on you. Jesus, why do they have such an intense stare? You point to the couch.

"Why don't we sit down for a minute and you can finally tell us the reason for your visit," I say. "I bet we're both waiting for a reasonable explanation for why you have come here. It's not a day-to-day trip to fly out of the States."

"So many questions." Natasha sighs but willingly takes a seat next to you.  "But I guess I owe you an explanation."

She crosses her hand on top of her legs. Wanda sits down in her usual spot. Her favorite armchair. Purposely, Natasha drags out the silence. You quickly but surely grow impatient. Did she decide to spend the rest of your vacation with you? God, no. Please let that not be true.

"I'm going to…buy another cabin!" Natasha breaks the silence, clapping her hand together. "A friend of mine doesn't want to keep it any longer and reached out to me a week ago. I obviously wanted to tell you guys but since there's no service in the mountains, I couldn't warn you."

"Damn the mobile network." Wanda pulls her knees up to her chin, tilting her head to the side in thought. "But it makes sense."

Natasha laughs. "Of course it does. Did you think I'd be lying to you, dearest?"

"I don't know…sometimes you like to keep your secrets to yourself."

"You can rest assured, this time it's the whole truth. I'm actually on my way to the guy but wanted to make a quick halt here. Check the situation."

"Meaning you wanted to make sure that both of us are still breathing." You mumble, raising a brow. 

"Exactly!"

~

"Can you get me the box from the top of the bookshelf, y/n? I obviously can't reach it but you should be able to if you stand on the chair." 

You walk up to the blonde who stands in front of the bookshelf, looking at the ceiling. There's a box? You haven't noticed it before. Unable to say no to her, you carefully climb on top of the chair. If you stand on your tiptoes, you should be able to reach it.

"Be careful." Wanda watches you with huge eyes and quickly is by your side. "The chair is unsteady."

Wanda places her hand on the chair, making sure that you wouldn't fall. Finally being able to reach the box, you groan as the weight makes itself known by the way your muscles tense. You breathe deeply as you lower the box on the floor. What is in there? Bricks? 

"Oh my, did you work out in the past months?" Natasha grazes your arm, clicking her tongue in respect. "You're not as soft as you used to be. Something changed."

Heat rises to your face at the compliment. You aren't someone who can take a compliment easily.

"Yeah, I carried some extra weight recently." You joke to hide your flushed state. 

Wanda gives you a deadly look. Truly. If looks could kill you'd me lying on the floor. Natasha laughs, playfully slapping you against your shoulder. You bite down on your tongue. 

"You thankfully haven't lost your humor after those days in solitude. I believe you get on Miss Maximoff's nerves quite easily."

"Actually…we get along just fine." Wanda interferes, standing up from the couch. "Does anyone want tea? I'm going to make some for myself."

Natasha shakes her head. "No thanks, I'm good."

Something seems off. Wanda slowly nods her head, her attention moving to you. Her emerald eyes don't have the shine that they usually have. You part your lips but Wanda already speaks again.

"Coffee?"

"Y-yeah."

"Okay." Wanda turns around and disappears out of the room without another word. 

"That was…weird to say the least. Are you sure that you get along fine with each other? There seems to be quite a heavy tension between you two."

"Nothing that I know of." You honestly reply, shrugging your shoulders. "Maybe she doesn't know how to handle us both at the same time. You know…she isn't as bad as you believe. At cooking."

Natasha leans forward. "Oh, really?"

"If that wasn't true I wouldn't be standing here."

~

Natasha excuses herself for a moment, carrying the box back to her car. There's something in there that is important for the meeting with the guy. Documents? You don't remember. Clearly, it isn't that important to you because why else would you have forgotten it the moment the blonde told you?

You take the small moment of peace to confront Wanda about her weird behavior. The air feels heavy, reminding you of the first days with her. You enter the kitchen, closing the door behind you. Wanda doesn't turn around to look at you, acting occupied with the tea.

"What's wrong?" You ask, furrowing your brows. "Why are you behaving all distant again?" 

Wanda shakes her head. "Nothing."

She pours the boiling water into the cup. The steam rises in the air. Your heart beats in your throat. 

"Everything is fine." She mumbles, feeling your stare piercing through her skin.

"I can see that it's not nothing. Did I do something wrong?" You catch her arm, holding her back as she wants to push past you towards the door. "Talk to me and help me understand."

She presses her lips together, staring daggers into the floor. The sound of the birds swarming through the air reaches your ears. A second goes by. You cross your arms in front of your chest. Unmoving, not letting her leave the room without an explanation.

"Wanda."

"It's just- I don't know…Natasha, she- she…" Wanda rambles, squeezing her eyes shut and sighing heavily. "I don't know what to think of the fact that she's here. I- I liked it when it was just…us."

"I see…"

Wanda swallows harshly, looking over your shoulder to keep avoiding your eyes. This isn't going to work. Breathing deeply, you take a quick glance out of the window. The blonde isn't going to come back soon for the next couple of minutes with her car parked at the end of the path.

"Let me remind you of something because I think you have forgotten." You cup her jaw, running your thumb over her cheeks. "I kissed you this morning…that isn't something I do lightly."

"Me neither…But-"

"There are no buts, Wanda." You cut her sentence off, knowing that she would overthink each moment with Natasha again. "There's only you and me. Nobody else."

Wanda sighs, her shoulders relaxing. "Okay…you're right. I don't know what came over me."

Your eyes flicker between her eyes and lips. With one reassuring glance out of the window, you meet her lips in a soft, sweet kiss. There's no lust driven passion. No out of breath panting. There's just her. Gently. Lingering. Her hands run over your back, settling around your waist.

Not wanting to risk getting caught by Natasha, you disconnect the kiss. Wanda hums, trailing her fingers through your hair. Your heart beats in the same rhythm as hers. Keeping your eyes closed, you nudge your nose against hers. 

"My sweet princess…don't you understand? You're the only one in this cabin I have eyes for." You see the smile on her face without opening your eyes. "Not even Nat can come close to you."

"I told you not to call me that ever again." Wanda whispers, leaning her forehead against yours. "How many times do I have to remind you?"

You grin. "I know…that's why I'll keep calling you that...Princess."

[crystalxwitch]

9| You - W. Maximoff

Summary: The day after your first kiss makes Wanda act even more adorable around you than before.

Masterlist

Late-night thoughts keep swirling around your mind.

Wanda's head rests on your shoulder. Your fingers gently play with her hair, hearing her even breathe. The dimming fire throws dancing shadows on the walls. You close your eyes, wanting to remember the peacefulness forever.

A quiet yawn reaches your ears. Wanda sighs deeply, snuggling deeper into your embrace. Taking a glance at her, you notice her eyes are completely shut with her lips parted slightly. The moonlight brushes through the curtains.

"Let's get you to bed, princess." You whisper, trying to wake her up from her light slumber. "You deserve a soft bed rather than an uncomfortable couch."

She groans. "You're comfortable."

You chuckle, experiencing a small déjà vu. The redhead presses her nose into your chest. Waiting another minute, you gently peel her off your body and move her up. Wanda shakes her head, weakly trying to pull you back into her arms. Your heart flutters. 

"Very comfortable."

She's more cuddly than you thought. Keeping that in the back of your head, you focus back on the given task. Bring her into her bed. She'll thank you for it in the morning even though it doesn't seem like it at this moment. Wanda follows you but only if you keep an arm around her middle, letting her keep a bit of body warmth from you. Nothing better than that.

You guide her to the bed, carefully helping her under the covers. Wanda holds your hand, tired eyes fluttering open and shut. Watching her quietly, she grins and squeezes your hand. You return it, rubbing your thumb over the back of her hand. Her skin is so soft. 

"Do you want to stay?" She asks, her voice barely audible. "I can make room for you."

"As much as I love that idea, you need to have a good night's sleep without me this time. I promise you, we'll talk about it tomorrow and maybe your bedside will be warm tomorrow night." You press a kiss against her forehead. "Goodnight, Wanda."

She mumbles something incomprehensible, smiling in her sleep. You brush a stand of red hair out of her face. Peacefulness paints her face. Her nose twitches adorably as your fingers run over her cheek. Tugging the blanket a bit higher up to her chin, you rise off the mattress as quietly as possible.

With one last glance, you return to your room. Thankfully, you found a spare mattress under Wanda's bed since the couch hasn't all dried yet. It is dry enough to sit on but you don't want to risk an infection. Sneaking under the covers, you stare up at the ceiling. The night turned out better than you had hoped it would. Everything feels right. 

With the image of her smile, you fall into a deep slumber.

~

The sound of chirping birds wakes you up. Pressing your fingers over your eyes, you turn around on your side and groan. You hate to wake up in the middle of an already bright room. 

With a newfound lightness, you disappear into the bathroom. You can't be fast enough, quickly brushing your teeth, and styling yourself enough to not like the mourning grouch that you are. What is that weird new feeling inside your chest? Of course, the events of the last few days changed a lot…but still?

Blaming the feeling in your chest on the sudden change of events, you walk out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. Wanda must be awake because the door is not fully closed, letting a hint of freshly brewed tea escape the room. 

Entering the kitchen with a small sigh, your eyes naturally land on the redhead who's sitting in her usual spot beside the window. She gazes outside, watching the birds swarm around the cabin. Hearing your footsteps, her attention immediately moved toward you.

She stands up, staring at me with those bright eyes. "Good morning." 

You halt in your steps. That is a new form of greeting. The redhead awkwardly presses her fingers into her palms, shifting her weight from side to side. She looks just as surprised as you are. Her eyes are wide.

"Even though I do feel flattered, Wands…you don't need to stand up for me." You grin, letting your gaze travel up and down her body. "I'm not going to lie, a curtsy would be an adorable sight to see."

She blushes, biting down on her lip. Somehow her body acted on autopilot the moment you stepped into the kitchen. Why is she behaving like this? Dropping back down on the chair, she takes a sip of her tea to avoid your glinting eyes. 

Feeling sorry for her, you walk up to her. Wanda doesn't meet your eyes even though you stand right beside her chair. The corner of your eyes twitch. Lowering yourself down on your knees, you reach for her hand and place it into yours. 

The burn intensifies. "What are you doing?" 

You shift your weight a bit, resting more comfortably on one knee."I'm already on my knees for you."

"Yeah, but why?" She asks.

"I thought that would balance out the situation…you standing up and me kneeling for you." You explain, pressing a kiss on her knuckles that is so light that she nearly doesn't feel it. "We're a perfect fit."

She chuckles. "That's very kind of you."

"I'm one of a kind." You shrug your shoulders, feeling high on giggly feelings that erupt in your chest as you hear her adorable laugh. "Can I give you a proper good morning?"

A look of puzzlement crosses her face. "I- of course, you can."

"Great." 

You rise a bit to catch her lips in a lingering kiss. Wanda sighs, not knowing what kind of greeting you referred to. The kiss takes her by surprise. She tastes of fruit tea mixed with something sweeter that's just her. She carefully moves her lips against yours. Is she doing it correctly? Not trying to deepen the kiss, you softly disconnect your lips. 

Her eyes remain closed, licking over her lower lip. You smile at the observation, tilting your head to the side, and wait for her to look at you again. As she does, you press a kiss on the tip of her nose. 

"Good morning." 

Reaching for your sweater, she pulls you back in by the fabric. Wanda can't get enough of these new feelings. It's not like she didn't date during the last year. In fact, she admits that she fell into quite a few beds with another guy too much. But that's the point. Those were all men. Wanda never dated a woman before, let alone kiss one.

During her early childhood, she noticed her eyes hanging a bit too long on her female teachers or the growing jealousy inside her chest whenever her best friend ditched her for another boy. It all felt weird…different than when she stared at the boys. Nevertheless, she brushed it aside.

Growing up in a conservative household, the thought couldn't become reality. A distant wish became irrelevant as time went by, trying to forget about it. And she succeeded. Until this very vacation where she met you. Needlessly to say, you crushed those hopes and dreams. 

But maybe… you are her new dream.

As she pulls back, you're the one to stare at her in shock. "Good morning."

You lick over your lower lip, tasting the lingering feeling of her tea. "I like our new form of greeting. It's weirdly…nice."

Her smile widens, making her eyes get small in the process. "I couldn't agree more."

"Do you want to talk about the change of events?"

"Not yet…let's just enjoy it. Is that okay?"

You nod, deep down knowing that you'd agree to anything she'd ask of you. "Yeah."

Staring at each other for a couple more seconds, you remain perfectly silent. Following the line of her braid down her chest with your finger, you never want to stop touching her. In the end, you sadly have to. Grabbing a mug for your usual morning caffeine, Wanda taps her nails on the table to get your attention.

"I already made you your coffee." She points to the coffee pot standing on the table. "You drink that stuff like water."

"I need to stay hydrated." You defend yourself, smiling from ear to ear as you fill in your first cup of coffee for the day. "Thank you…I really appreciate it."

She waves it off with a hand gesture. "Nothing to thank me for. You always do the rest, cooking for me and…carrying me upstairs. Again."

"Well, I can't let you sleep on the couch. Besides, I like to carry you." A mischievous grin paints your expression. "Helps me work out more often. Those muscles don't build themselves out of nowhere."

An annoyed grumble is her reply. Sitting down on the chair opposite of her, you grab a slice of bread. Together, you fall into a relaxing conversation. The redhead gives you a bit more insight into her current life on the west coast. You listen to each word falling past her mouth with uncommon interest. Leaning your chin on your open palm, you lick over your lips.

"I always wanted to ask...What's that accent you have? I heard it once or twice slipping through."

"Oh, really?" Wanda asks. "I don't notice that anymore but to answer your question…it's sokovian."

You nod, faintly remembering the country from television news. Riots and poverty shaped the country in the late 90s. Wanda averts her eyes back to her tea. Probably interpreting your silence as a bad thing, you quickly open your mouth.

You lean a bit forward. "Were you born there?"

"Yeah, I lived there until my parents decided to move abroad. I was six years old when we flew to the US."

"That must've been hard…leaving your life behind." 

"It was difficult at first. A new language. New friends. But I got used to it and have settled in." Wanda places her mug down. "Life goes on."

"It does...Sadly."

~

Switching the kitchen with the living room after a long and relaxing breakfast, you remove your pajamas. Pull on a thick sweater and jeans, you neatly place the clothes into your suitcase. Usually, you're not that tidy but sharing a cabin with the redhead brings out sides of you that you've never known before. 

Wanda enters the room, the area becoming your day-to-day spot where you both read a book or do something else. The clouds over the treetops promise a beautiful day ahead. Maybe you'll be able to continue your hike up the mountains. 

"You look nice." 

That surprises you. Turning around, you look at your clothes. The oversized sweater nearly reaches your knees. Wanda leans against the wall, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Her previous braids are gone. Instead, her curly hair falls freely over her shoulders. 

"I don't know if you're joking with me or being honest." You reply, raising a brow. "It's not exactly what people describe as a pretty outfit."

"I never said it was pretty." She moves her eyes up and down your body. Slowly. "I said 'You look nice.'" 

You theatrically purse your lips. "You don't think I look pretty?"

"Nice. Pretty. Beautiful." She chuckles, listing up all sorts of compliments. "The prettiest girl I've ever laid eyes on." 

You scoff. "Now I'm sure that you're having me on."

"No, what makes you think that?"

The irony thickly wraps around her sentence. In two steps you rush towards her, so fast that she can't react to it. A surprised laugh escapes her mouth. Your body acted faster than your brain. The only thing on your mind was to wipe that cocky grin off her lovely face. She had her fun with you. It's only fair that it's your turn.

"Oh…Are you ticklish?"

This catches her off guard. Her body violently twitches. Laughter fills the air as you continue your movements, wanting to make her regret playing games with you. Nevertheless, you have a close eye on her reactions. You touch her lightly with your fingertips, respectful to not let them wander underneath her sweater. It's not the right time yet.

"Oh god." She breathlessly laughs, trying to turn her body away from your merciless actions. "Y/n…please." She helplessly rains her fists down on your shoulders. "Stop it."

Letting go of her, you take a step back. She's out of breath. But there's an honest smile on her lips. A lovely shade of pink covers her cheeks. You don't know if it's caused by the adrenaline rush or your proximity.

"Was that supposed to hurt?" You look down at the spot where she hit you. "We seriously need to work on that, Wands."

"Ugh, you seriously can't behave nicely." She rolls her eyes. "I hate you."

A step closer. 

You hum deeply, your eyes flickering between hers. "Are you sure about that?"

A heartbeat quicker. 

"No."

A deep breath.

"No?" You tease her. 

Wanda gulps, her eyes bouncing between yours. "Most definitely not." 

Your fingers hold her chin up as she tries to shy away from your burning stare. "Where does the sudden change of character come from?"

"You."

Electricity cracks in the air. Wanda places her fingers around your wrist, not pushing your hand away. Her rough fingertip traces over your skin. You notice golden freckles in her emerald eyes. Your breath catches in your chest. You could get lost in her eyes and never complain about anything again.

Her eyes move down to your lips, her expression hopeful, and longing. A few days. Nearly a week. The woman wrapped you around her little finger in an instant.

Your ears perk up as faint footsteps are heard from outside. Inches apart between your lips, you hold yourself back. Wanda lets out a sound of confusion. Gaze moving towards the window, you subconsciously pull her a bit closer by the small of her back. Something is wrong.

You halt your movements. "Did you hear that?"

Wanda's eyes remain closed, her breath fanning over my face. "Heard what?"

"There's somebody outside."

[crystalxwitch]

8| Splinter - W. Maximoff

Summary: Wanda isn't happy when you hide your small injury from her.

Masterlist

"I'm going to get a few logs from outside!" 

"Don't take too long, the wind is picking up," Wanda calls out from the living room.

Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you stomp around the cabin. Behind it is a woodpile that is big enough to bring you through the next few days without the need to cut some more by yourself. Grabbing a few logs, you place them inside the basket that is placed right next to you. The nights are growing colder and the cool air finds its way inside your cozy home through the walls. 

Lost in thought, you don't pay attention to the wood. You move on autopilot, reaching for the logs and placing them inside the container. A slight pain pierces through your finger, letting you halt immediately. Hissing quietly, you clench your teeth together as you let the log fall into the basket.

Narrowing your eyes, you hold up your forefinger and inspect it in the dim light of the moon. In the shadows of the night, you can make out the splinter underneath the thin layer of skin. 

"Good job, y/n." You mutter to yourself.

With furrowed brows, you walk back to the cabin with the basket in your arms. The wind blows through your hair, letting it dance in the wind. Rushing through the door, you lean your back against the closed door. The spot on your finger pounds with the erratic beat of your heart. 

"There you are." 

You tilt up your head. With a glass of wine in her hand, she looks you up and down. Holding a bit tighter on the basket, you suppress a whine as your finger throbs with pain. Wanda musters you with a serious expression, watching you lean against the door. 

"Are you okay?" She asks. "Did something happen?"

"Yeah…yes, everything is fine." You give her an uplifting smile and hold up the basket. "Let's start the fire. I'm getting cold."

Without any protests or further investigations, Wanda nods and walks inside the living room. You follow her quietly, making sure to not put pressure on your forefinger. Kneeling in front of the fireplace, you rip apart some papers and start making the fire. 

Wanda stands beside you, watching your movements with careful eyes as if she is afraid that you'll do something wrong. Does she think I'll burn the cabin down with her in it? Maybe. Her eyes pierce through your back. Taking a sip of her wine, she moves a few feet away as you give her a side-eyeing look. 

Blowing some air into the small flame, it quickly grows into a bigger fire. You throw two thick logs into the fireplace. A few sparks dance in the air, cozy warmth already radiating from the spot. Using the light to inspect your finger further, you can see the thin wooden splinter better underneath the skin. This can't be that hard to get it out. 

You can't help the groan escaping your throat. How can such a tiny thing hurt so much? Subconsciously, you grasp your finger between your palm. At the sound of discomfort, she places her glass back on the table.

Wanda looks down at the finger that you hold into your fist. "Show me."

Shaking your head, you walk past her. "It's nothing."

She places her hands on her hips. "Let me be the judge of that."

She is stubborn. A personality trait you figured out in the first five minutes of meeting her. You shrug your shoulders in defeat. She doesn't ask permission as her hand reaches for your finger, holding it into the light.

"Did you want to let it stay there and not tell me? This could get infected." 

"I tried, but it's not working." You show her the unmoving splinter, your fingernail digging into the skin to push it out. "See?"

Immediately, she shakes her head. "Don't do that! You'll only make it worse." 

You sigh. "But how else can I get it out?"

"Sit down on the couch, I'll get the tweezers." 

~

The dancing glow of the golden flames painted the walls in a cozy atmosphere. She kneels in front of you, inspecting the splinter. Her braid falls over her shoulder, your eyes focused on the loose strands instead of her parted lips. 

"You are the clumsiest person I know." 

"You pay that much attention to me?"

She brushes the wet towel over your fingertip. "With the way you are behaving it's no surprise. I can not not pay attention to you if you run around the world like a hurricane."

You chuckle. "I never heard someone describe me as a hurricane before." 

"Glad to be the first one to open your eyes." She scrapes her fingernail over the skin, trying to get the splinter to move. "Someone needs to make the first step after all."

The pressure that she uses to press out the splinter quickly turns into a sharp pain. You flinch, whining as her fingernails dig into the skin. Wanda throws you a disapproving glance, not caring about your discomfort.

"Don't whine." 

"It hurts!" You breathe out through gritted teeth. 

She holds your hand still, scolding your whining again. Carefully, she tucks at the end of the splinter. You press your lips together, not wanting to let another whine escape your mouth. Another whine would be too humiliating.

"You're so annoying." She mumbles, not meeting your eyes. "You're always running into things or getting splinters into your skin. You seriously need to get your brain checked for congenital stupidity because all you do is get on my nerves."

Her rambling makes your eyebrows shoot up. These are more words laced together than she ever said to you in one breath. Your heart soars in your chest. 

"Careful, Wanda." You lean in, lowering your time of voice. "Maybe it's contagious."

She narrows her stare. "The wine is getting to your head. Is your tolerance that low?"

"You're incorrect." You bite down on your tongue. "I haven't drunk anything yet. You are the only one who did. Besides, I can handle my liquor better than you judging by what I've seen so far." 

Staring at the glass of wine on the coffee table, she lets out a little grunt. Indeed, there is only one glass that belongs to her. A chuckle falls freely past your lips, not able to hold it back.

She rolls her eyes. "What?"

You grin, waiting for another beat to drag out the moment. "You care."

She clenches her jaw, her eyes battling with the burning light of the flames. "I most definitely do not." 

"Right." You hum, giving her a questioning look.

Let's test that theory a bit further. 

Her breath hitches as you reach out for her hand. Her skin burns underneath your touch. How is she always this warm? A thousand thoughts run through your head, every single one surrounding the redhead who seems to be taken over your entire existence. She drops the tweezer on the couch, totally in trance by you.

Your fingers encircle her wrist, mustering her carefully as she swallows harshly. The sound of the crackling fills the silent room. Wanda doesn't move, following your movements as your fingertips trace over her soft skin. As much as her mind screams at her to pull back and bury herself under thousands of blankets to hide from your piercing eyes, she remains silent. 

"Your heart is beating fast to be close to someone you don't care about." You whisper ever so barely, feeling her pulse pound wildly underneath your thumb. "Are you lying again?"

Wanda parts her lips, trying to find words without visibly shuddering, reacting to your intimate touch and words. "Because you drive me crazy with…your stupidity." 

"Mmh, thank you." You notice her eyes flickering from side to side, obviously having a hard time holding eye contact. "I'll try my best to continue to do that."

Her breathing picks up whether it is because of your words or her anger. Picking up the tweezer again - fingers ever so barely trembling - she averts her attention back to your hand. With quick movements, Wanda finally gets the splinter out of your skin. 

"Done."

No…

She stands up and dusts herself off. You breathe in a carefully breath. Her body moves away but before she is out of your reach, you reach for her arm. Your heart is quicker than your head at this moment, throwing every doubt aside. 

"What are you- ahh."

She stumbles over her feet, falling down as she loses her footing. You catch her, letting her fall right on top of your lap. Whatever words - whether kind or not so kind - might have slipped past her mouth, you don't care.

All your senses are consumed by her as her green eyes bounce between yours. Awkwardly shifting her body around, she sits up on your lap instead of hanging over you like a wet sack. 

She has such beautiful eyes. 

Your palm cups her jaw, caressing your thumb over her cheek. Her chest rises and falls in irregular breaths, brushing against your front with each inhale. Keeping your eyes locked with hers, you carefully run your thumb over her bottom lip. Wanda's eyes flutter close for a second, trying to get her heartbeat under control as she fears that it might jump out of her chest into your hands. 

"Y/n." Her voice shakes a little.

Your eyes flicker between hers. "Wanda."

Letting her be the one to close the distance, you are more than surprised as she rushes forward. The simple taste of her wine-tinted lips sends your mind into a rollercoaster of emotions. Soft lips move shyly against yours at first. You had your speculation that she wasn't especially familiar with women. Even more, you want this to be a good experience for her.

Wanda sighs, not wanting to pull back for air. Running your tongue over her lower lip, you feel her hands twitch as she holds on just a bit tighter on your shoulders. The smell of firewood smoke and lillies invade your nose.

She moans inside your mouth, the vibrations sending shockwaves down your spine. Shivers appear over both of your arms, not because of the cold - your bodies are burning - but because of the excitement rushing through your blood. Every new touch. Every new taste. Everything adds fuel to the fire within your stomach.

Her scent hugs you like a warm blanket, a comfort only the redhead is able to give you. It should be illegal that she takes your heart by storm in a matter of a few days. But the comfort grows more addicting with each day and the thought of pushing her away becomes impossible.

Not wanting to push her any further, you slow down the kisses and gently pull back. You lean your forehead against hers, bathing at the moment. Wanda lets out a long exhale, staring at your mouth. You hold her close, drawing circles over her back. Her lips are slightly swollen, red painted from all the kisses. 

"Was that stupid of me?" You ask, watching every little shift in her eyes.

Wanda blinks, slowly. It looks like she just woke up from a dream. You feel her fingertips tighten their hold on the back of your neck, playing with the soft baby hairs.

"Hmm." The redhead hums, meeting your eyes but ever so quickly dropping them again. "But just a little bit."

"Yeah?" You carefully move your fingers over her braid. "You want me to do it again?"

Without a reply, she leans forward again. Her lips carefully brush over yours, letting her lead the pace. This time it's slower. Wanda doesn't rush it and you are in no way opposed to it. The heat of her body pressed against yours gives you more warmth than the fireplace ever could. 

She sighs deeply, pressing a kiss against your cheek and moving towards your other one. The ticklish feeling makes your heart beat faster. You both pant for air, breaths mixed together. Wanda traces the skin on the back of your hand that rests on her thigh. 

The fire glows brightly behind her, illuminating her body in a golden glow. You watch an honest grin spread over her lips slowly. Why is your heart fluttering so weirdly?

Your fingertip traces over her collarbone. "Is that smile for me?"

She buries her face against your shoulder, shying away from your amused expression. Heat spreads over her face, inching upwards and spreading all across her cheeks. You can't see her face but you have a vivid imagination of what she must look like. A fit of laughter spills out of your mouth, feeling her smile against your neck. 

"Shut up."