@MommysLittleBird writing library for those who would like to get notified when I write something, but doesn't want to get bombared with other notifications
After spending a profoundly sheltered life in Wandaâs little bubble, you find yourself unequipped to deal with your adult body.
Tags: Heavy age play, stepcest, first time, light piss kink, breastfeeding, brief mention of straight (PinV) sex, inappropriate use of childcare supplies, kind of forced infantilization? (but most R is just like that)
Word Count: ~4k
A/N: I was really hesitant to post this, as it covers some kinks Iâm yet to really explore on this page. Please read the tags carefully before deciding whether or not to read this. Also, this was originally written as male!reader, so you can find this exact same story written from that perspective below.
"Mama?" Your voice was small when you stepped into her office, approaching her desk with your shirt hem clutched in your hands, pulling it down over your groin.
She almost gasped with excitement when you came in. You weren't supposed to interrupt her workday unless you really needed her for something, and she _loved_ it when you really needed her for something. "Hi beautiful," she chimed, swirling her chair around to face you. "What's up?"
You didn't answer, just stood there shifting uncomfortably, unsure of how to communicate your issue.
"Do you wanna come over here and show mama what your hiding under your shirt?" She asked, not pretending to not notice your awkward stance and obviously embarrassment. "Come here. Show mama what's wrong."
She held out her hands, guiding you to stand in front of her. When her hands rested gently on your hips, you finally let the shirt spring back into place, revealing a discolored wet spot down the center of your grey panties.
"I thought maybe⊠maybe I had a potty accident⊠but when I tried to go potty I could- I could only get a little dribble," you explained nervously.
Wanda nodded in understanding. "Ah I see the problem," she hummed. As she spoke, she calmly handed you the hem of your oversized shirt to hold up out of the way. Then she hooked her fingers into your waistband and started to slowly ease your underwear down over your hips. "See, sometimes, when little princesses start thinking about naughty things, their little princess parts get all wet and sticky."
"B-b-but I wasn't thinking about naughty things!" you protested, ears going red as arousal gathered between your legs, clinging to your panties as they slid down your thighs.
"Not even a little?" Wanda continued, swirling her office chair until she was inches away from you. Her hands, no longer working at your waistband, gently caressed your sides in a calming motion. "You weren't thinking about⊠mama, letting you sit on the counter while she took a shower last night? Or watching her put that good smelling lotion on all over?"
Against your will, your clit pulsed at the thought, sending another wave of arousal running down your legs. Wanda smirked, very satisfied with your reaction.
Your bottom lip started to quiver and the blush spread across your cheeks. "N-no! I wasn'tâ"
She cut off your protests with a gentle shush as her hands worked their way down to your hip bone, and then inward, tracing the line of muscles right to your precious pussy. As iniquitous as it was, Wanda had come to realize that this was her favorite part of your body. Although your mind stayed naive and dependent, watching you grow had been difficult. She was thankful that you'd always been small, and even at your tallest you still remained two inches shorter than she was. But the day that she could no longer rest you comfortably on her hip, her heart shattered. It hurt her so severely that she could not keep you as her little girl forever.
This part of you, however, did not seem to grow as the rest of you did. This small, precious piece of you reflected the you she saw: little, innocent, untouched, and absolutely hers.
She ran the tips of her fingers between your folds, inspecting you carefully. You were properly soaked. "Ooohh," she cooed quietly, kissing your lower stomach, "you are so very wet for mama, aren't you. You must've been having some _very_ naughty thoughts."
You couldn't bring yourself to refute her again. You only squeaked and let go of your shirt, letting it fall over her hand and cover you up.
"Ah ah," she chided, holding your shirt up again. "Hold it up nice and high for mama. We don't want it getting in the way."
You obeyed, clutching the shirt with white knuckles as she started to rub slow circles around your clit. "MamaâŠ" you whimpered so quite she could hardly hear.
"I'm right here baby," she reassured. "Just hold onto mama however you need to, okay? Do you wanna hold my hand?"
You nodded frantically, already reaching out for her hand.
"Okay, brave girl. Take a big deep breathe for me." She demonstrated a breath, letting you mirror her. In through your nose, then out through your mouth. "Good girl. Now just relax. Let mama make you feel good."
With that, she kissed your lower stomach and dragged her tongue through your folds.
Almost instantly, your knees buckled. If not for her hold on your waist, you would've fallen to the ground. "Mama," you whimpered again, this time with more of moan.
You tasted divine, like honey and pineapples: just as sweet as she knew you would be. She nuzzled the downy soft peach fuzz that sat in a perfect patch where corse, thick pubic hair should've been. Even though you had more body hair than most people, it always seemed to grow like this: in soft, fuzzy patches that covered nearly every inch of your body.
Wanda loved it. Obez'yanka. Her precious little monkey. She loved to run her fingers through the hair or feel it, soft and smooth against her face. Even now, with your body twitching and spasming with pleasure, she couldn't help but indulge herself by pushing her nose against it.
She pulled away for a moment to kiss the inside of your thigh before plunging her tongue inside of you. You were so incredibly tight. She doubted you've ever had so much as a finger inside of you, and you reaction all but confirmed her suspicions. Nothing had ever felt quite like that before: like she scratching an itch from the inside. You gasped and gave Wanda's hand a squeeze.
She only smiled and moved back to your clit, rolling her tongue in quick circles until you were close to tears. When she sucked it into her mouth and lightly flicked her tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves, you weakly pushed her head back.
"MamaâŠ" you panted, weak but desperate and determined. "Mama⊠you⊠you have to stop mamaâŠ"
Wanda sat up, face immediately filled with concern. "What's wrong, angel? Do you not like when mama plays with you like that?"
"No, I do⊠I just⊠IâŠ" you shifted uncomfortably, crossing your arms and hugging your elbows. You couldn't bring yourself to look at her, instead opting to look at the floor as you whispered "It feels like I'm gonna have a potty accidentâŠ." Your ears and face were beet red, humiliated by the confession.
"Oh," Wanda chuckled softly, more with relief than amusement. "That's a very natural feeling to have when mama plays with your little princess parts. I promise you're not gonna have a potty accident."
You hugged yourself tighter, rubbing your legs together to relieve the ache. While you trusted mama, you couldn't think of anything in the world worse than accidentally going potty in her mouth. "But⊠just in case⊠I don't wanna go in your mouth."
Wanda almost had to laugh. She found it so funny how nervous and shy you were about using the bathroom in general. Your anxiety was so bad she often caught you holding it until your bladder was near bursting. It wasn't uncommon for her to insist on helping you in the restroom, worried you'd push yourself to the point of obstruction or infection.
Instead, she managed to keep a serious expression and nodded with understanding. "Okay, honey. That's okay." She gently rubbed your side, snaking her hand up under your sleep shirt. "I tell you what, how about mama goes and gets a nice little washrag and we can keep playing on the couch. That way, if you have any accidents, the washrag will be right there to catch it."
You considered her words for a second. One hand, you would be absolutely humiliated to accidentally pee on Wanda in any capacity. But on the other hand, it felt really really good when mama was playing with you. Besides, it certainly wouldn't be the first time Wanda had dealt with one of your accidents. Hesitantly, you nodded your head and whispered "okay."
Wanda beamed, scratching lightly under your chin. "That's my brave girl," she praised. "Come on, let's go find a spot to get comfy on the couch."
Wanda made a effort to make the corner seat of the couch as comfortable as possible without leaving you waiting for too long. By the time you were situated in her lap, you were completely naked clutching your teddy bear for courage.
"That's my good girl," Wanda whispered from behind you. You could feel her chest pressing up against your back and her breath hot against your ear. She placed her legs over your, pinning your thighs apart and your legs open.
You whimpered, feeling terribly exposed in the new position.
"Shshshhh," she soothed. "You're okay. You're being so brave. Mama's got you." She wrapped her hands around your waist, placing a washrag just underneath you, keeping your excitement from running onto the couch. The "rag" was actually a burp cloth, made extra soft and absorbent. She could help but take a moment to admire how precious you looked, dribbling onto the duck printed fabric. "Mmm you're so beautiful, baby. My sweet, sensitive little girl."
She only needed to use one finger, very gently stretching your virgin hole open to accommodate her. She curled her finger up inside of you, using her thumb to circle your clit. When your body started to twitch and you instinctively started to roll your hips, she kissed the side of your neck. "That's my good girl. Hump mama's hand. You can do it. Just like that," her voice was high and praising, like she was talking to a toddler learning to walk. "You're making mama so proud and happy. You're my perfect little angel, aren't you? Are you mommy's perfect little princess?"
You nodded, hardly able to open your mouth in any attempt to verbally respond. There was a small, strained whimper every time you exhaled, and, from the sound of it, you were struggling to breathe. "'m mama's⊠little princessâŠ" you finally managed before your hips started to staggered and froze in place. You were already so close, but you weren't exactly sure what you what you were close to. It still felt like you were going to pee and it made you too nervous to keep going.
Wanda took over from there, adding in another finger and pumping faster. Your entire body shuttered and your hands dug into her forearms when she pressed her thumb hard against your throbbing, sensitive clit. She could tell you were holding in your orgasm, too nervous to let go.
"You're okay, pumpkin. Mama's got you. You don't have to be scared. Mama would never ever let anything bad happen to you," she assured, buring her nose in your hair and kissing your head. "Just take a deep breath and relax for me. No, baby, don't struggle. Your body needs this. Let mama take care of you. That's my good girl."
Two tears rolled down your cheeks when you arched your back, body twitching as you came, spraying the rag with cum. Your mouth opened in a silent scream that only came out as a slight squeak.
"Aww, that's it. That's my good girl. Oh my brave little princess. So perfect for her mama," she cooed, coaxing out the final drops before pressing her hand to your forehead to calm you. "Shshsh settle down, sweetheart. Settle down. Mama's got you. You're okay. I know. I know that was a big feeling for my baby girl. But you did so good, and you were so brave for me. It's okay if you need to cry. Mama's here. I'm so proud of you angel."
You turned around in her lap, burying your face in her neck. Your teddy bear was tossed haphazardly to the side as you started to cry. Your head felt so foggy it was impossible to think. You tried to open your mouth to speak, but every attempt was met with a whimper or little squeak.
Wanda rubbed her hand soothing up and down your back, rocking you gently in her lap. "Poor baby," she cooed. "Is it really hard to think about anything but mama after she made you good?"
You nodded into her neck, pulling her closer. It seemed impossible that you could ever get close enough to her.
"That's okay, angel," she assured. "Mama's got you. She can handle all the big girl thoughts and you can stay in that fuzzy little space for as long as you need."
Your little hands made their way to the hem of her shirt, sliding just underneath to graze the soft skin of her waist. Her skin was so impossibly soft. You wanted more. With pleading eyes and a pathetic little whine, you tugged gently on her shirt, silently requesting she take it off.
"Aww sweet pea, do you want mama to take her shirt off?" She chuckled. "Is it gonna help you talk better if mama's not wearing her shirt?"
You nodded, continuing to paw at her waist, desperate to get closer.
"Okay okay." She giggled at your eagerness. "But you better not be fibbing just cause you wanna see mama's chest. That would be very naughty."
She almost had to laugh. The moment she slid the shirt over her head, your eyes went wide as saucers. She could practically see the tiny stars swimming in your pupils as you stared at her bare chest.
You lunged forward, wrapping your arms around her bare waist and resting your head on her soft, pillowy breast, nuzzling your cheek against them.
She stroked your hair and gently rocked you in her lap, unable to keep her hands from roaming your naked body. Starting up under your shoulder blades, she traced a line down the notches of your spine until she hit your tailbone. From there, she used both her hands to slide over the swell of your ass, massaging it with her strong fingers. You moaned softly into her chest, sheepishly buring your head between her boobs.
"Do you like it when mama touches you like that?" She asked quietly. "I just can't help it. Not when my precious girl's beautiful body is right here in front of me. And certainly not when she's feeling all floaty. Cause you can't really think about anything but making mama happy, can you? And this makes mama very happy, baby girl. So it makes you happy too, doesn't it?"
You nodded into her chest.
"C'mere," she said, hauling you up by the underarms and laying you across her lap so she had full access to the front of you.
Conveniently, it put you right at eye level with her nipple, which, unsurprisingly, found it's way into your mouth. She cradled your head in the crook of her elbow, gently guiding your head.
She chuckled. "Oh, I should've known that's what my little lady wanted," she mused, placing her pointer finger against the palm of your hand until you reflexively wrapped your hand around it. She lifted the hand to her mouth, kissing your knuckles with a gentle smile.
You made her so incredibly happy like this. It was everything she'd ever wanted, to be your mama, and you were beyond precious. She traced her thumb over your cheek, feeling the rhythmic pulse of your suckling. Then she moved to your forehead, brushing the hair away from your face and grazing your long, fluttering eyelashes with the pad of her thumb. Your eyes were nearly closed, and, on the rare occasion you blinked them open, she could see they were rolled uselessly into the back of your head. You were completely limp in her lap, laid across her perfectly exposed and vulnerable.
She traced her hand down to your sternum, then moved to either side to lightly circle your sensitive nipples. You hummed, sending a pleasant vibration through her chest. When you started to squirm, she continued downward to your navel, carding through the fuzzy happy trail that grew below your belly button. As she inched lower, your legs instinctively parted, practically begging her to continue her journey downward.
She ran her finger up your sensitive center, pausing to make gentle circles around your overly sensitive clit. You twitched and instinctively clamped your legs shut. "Shshsh," she hushed. "It's okay. Mama knows you're sensitive baby. Just relax and let mama play with her special girl, okay?"
Without protest, you went back to your gentle, mindless suckling, leaving her free to do as she pleased. Sensing you may not be ready for overt overstimulation after cumming for the first time, she gently pressed a finger inside of you, seeking more to explore than to arouse. She pressed hard against the side of your inner wall, feeling your clit from the inside.
"That's my good girl," she praised, moving now to gently cup her hand between your legs and simply hold it there.
You could've fallen asleep just like that, peacefully suckling from your mama while she cradled your most intimate parts in her loving hand. The connection between the two of you felt impossibly strong you could've sworn your hearts were beating in tandem. You could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest, and started to subconsciously match your rhythm with her's.
It was only when Wanda absently reached out for the soiled rag that you were pulled from your stupor by an overwhelming sense of embarrassment and guilt.
"I'm sorry, mama," you whined, so quiet she almost didn't hear. You shifted, sitting up slightly in her lap so you were no longer supported only by her arm.
"Aw, baby, what are you sorry for? You were so perfect for mama," she asked, trying to get a look at your face while you desperately tried to hide it in her chest.
"I made a big mess!" You cried, embarrassed and a little confused by everything that just happened. Your head still felt so foggy and it was hard to think. Emotions seemed to just spill out of you, impossible to control.
"First of all," she started, pulling your head back so she could see you. "What does mama always say about messes?"
"That⊠that I shouldn't feel bad because⊠cause little girls make messes sometimes and⊠and that it's just part⊠part of growing up," you stammered.
"And that mama will never ever be mad you for making a mess because she loves that you're her little girl," she added.
You sniffled and curled into her shoulder. "Yeah. That too."
"And second of all," she continued, "this mess is a very very special kind of mess. One that only happens when little girls feel really really good. Mama will always be happy when you make a special mess for her. So no matter where or when it happens, if you make a special mess, you can come tell mama and she'll be happy to clean it up for you, okay?"
You nodded, reaching up and grasping at her so you had something to hold on to. "Okay, mama."
Wanda looked down at the rag, now covered in your thin, watery cum, and smiled. She couldn't help but think of how sad it was that most mothers never got to experience this moment: their little girl's first ever orgasm.
She wondered how you would've handled it had you discovered this on your own. If she had to make a guess, she would've bet you would've come to her anyway, crying and confused about what happened. It simply wasn't in your nature to try and hide things like this from her.
Maybe in another lifetime entirely you would've tried to hide the evidence, carefully tucking it down into a laundry basket only for her to find it later when she went to wash your clothes. Hell, maybe you wouldn't have made the discovery alone. Maybe you would've found out fooling around with some boy.
Wanda didn't like to think about that possibility, though.
It wasn't necessarily a matter of jealousy, but rather a sense of protection. She was sure the fumbling fool would've ruined it for you one way or another. Chances are he would've hurt you, made you bleed by carelessly pushing his penis where it wasn't wanted. He wouldn't see you for what you truly were: a pure, innocent flower to be gently care for lest it break.
Wanda smiled to herself as she considered how, even in this scenario where you'd strayed so far from her loving embrace, you'd still most likely end up running back into her arms. Their were thousands of possibilities of how this could've happened, and they all ended with you in this exact same position, naked and spent across her lap.
She tossed the rag aside and wrapped both of her arms around your waist, kissing the crown of your head. You were quiet and contemplative, tracing light figure 8s on the skin above her collarbone. She loved seeing you like this: her smart little girl thinking her big thoughts. If she focused, she could practically see the wheels turning in your little head as you thought through your feelings.
"Mama?"
"What is it, angel?"
"I love you." Your words were simple and quiet, spoken without ever even looking away from her collarbone.
"I love you too, sweetheart," she replied. "Your mama loves you so much. More than anything in the universe."
There was another long silence as you sat up straighter, wrapping your arms around her neck and buring your face in the crook of her shoulder.
She rubbed gentle circles on your back. "Can you tell mama about how your feeling right now?" She asked, almost nervous to hear the answer.
You gave her a tiny shrug, still very confused about what had happened and how you felt about it. "I feel like I'm sleepy but I don't wanna go to sleep cause if I go to sleep mama won't be there."
Wanda leaned her head on top of yours and pulled you closer. "You just really wanna be with mama right now, huh?"
You didn't even have to think to answer that question. You nodded.
"What if," she started, pulling a throw blanket from the back of the couch and starting to wrap it around you, "we went back into mama's office and you sat on my lap while I finished work. I can set up some Blue's Clues on the monitor. And then after I get done with work we can go get ice cream. How does that sound?"
You didn't respond for a second, and then said "I wanna watch Elmo."
Wanda giggled. "Alright, baby. Elmo it is." She reached down and grabbed the discarded teddy bear from the floor. "Don't forget Mister Maxwell." You tucked the bear neatly under your arm.
You were the picture of innocence when Wanda picked you up, carrying you into her office with your naked legs and arms wrapped around her. The blanket was thrown over you like a cloak, covering the entirety of your naked backside. Between your chest, which was pressed against Wanda's and the blanket, very little of your body was exposed to the cold air.
If you hadn't been tired before, you certainly were now. Wanda was so warm and the blanket was so soft. Had you been able to relax a little bit more, you would've been asleep already. But you were still feeling terribly clingy and reluctant to leave Wanda in favor of sleep.
When she sat down and turned the colorful cartoon onto one of her monitors, you were immediately enraptured. It took so little to distract or entertain you. You stared at the screen, arms folded around your teddy bear as your naked body straddled her's. Absently, you tucked your bottom lip under your front teeth, exaggerating your overbite. If it weren't so damn adorable, Wanda would've tried to break that habit.
Predictably, you didn't last long like that, warm and cozy, pressed up against your mama's chest. By the end of the third episode, Wanda looked down to find you fast asleep on her shoulder.
She smiled and kissed your temple. You really were her everything. Her girl. Her baby. Her little princess.
After spending a profoundly sheltered life in Wandaâs little bubble, you find yourself unequipped to deal with your adult body.
Tags: Heavy age play, male!reader, stepcest, first time, light piss kink, R has a tiny penis, Râs body is described as underdeveloped, breastfeeding, inappropriate use of childcare supplies, kind of forced infantilization? (but most R is just like that)
Word Count: 4.1k
A/N: I was really hesitant to post this, as it covers some kinks Iâm yet to really explore on this page. Please read the tags carefully before deciding whether or not to read this. Also, I made a female version of this that I will link below.
"Mama?" Your voice was small when you stepped into her office, approaching her desk with your shirt hem clutched in your hands, pulling it down over your groin.
She almost gasped with excitement when you came in. You weren't supposed to interrupt her workday unless you really needed her for something, and she loved it when you really needed her for something. "Hi handsome," she chimed, swirling her chair around to face you. "What's up?"
You didn't answer, just stood there shifting uncomfortably, unsure of how to communicate your issue.
"Do you wanna come over here and show mama what your hiding under your shirt?" She asked, not pretending to not notice your awkward stance and obviously embarrassment. "Come here. Show mama what's wrong."
She held out her hands, guiding you to stand in front of her. When her hands rested gently on your hips, you finally let the shirt spring back into place, revealing a tent in your underwear with a discolored wet spot at the tip.
"I thought maybe⊠maybe I had a potty accident⊠but when I tried to go potty I could- I could only get a little dribble," you explained nervously.
Wanda nodded in understanding. "Ah I see the problem," she hummed. As she spoke, she calmly handed you the hem of your oversized shirt to hold up out of the way. Then she hooked her fingers into your waistband and started to slowly ease your underwear down over your hips. "See, sometimes, when little princes start thinking about naughty things, their little prince parts get all stiff and leaky."
"B-b-but I wasn't thinking about naughty things!" you protested, ears going red as all three inches of your cock sprang up out of your underwear.
"Not even a little?" Wanda continued, swirling her office chair until she was inches away from you. Her hands, no longer working at your waistband, gently caressed your sides in a calming motion. "You weren't thinking about⊠mama, letting you sit on the counter while she took a shower last night? Or watching her put that good smelling lotion on all over?"
Against your will, your cock twitched at the thought, beading a small bit of precum at the tip. Wanda smirked, very satisfied with your reaction.
Your bottom lip started to quiver and the blush spread across your cheeks. "N-no! I wasn'tâ"
She cut off your protests with a gentle shush as her hands worked their way down to your hip bone, and then inward, tracing the line of muscles right to your precious cock. As iniquitous as it was, Wanda had come to realize that this was her favorite part of your body. Although your mind stayed naive and dependent, watching you grow had been difficult. She was thankful that you'd always been small, and even at your tallest you still remained two inches shorter than she was. But the day that she could no longer rest you comfortably on her hip, her heart shattered. It hurt her so severely that she could not keep you as a little boy forever.
This part of you, however, did not seem to grow as the rest of you did. This small, precious piece of you reflected the you she saw: little, innocent, untouched, and absolutely hers.
She took you into her hand, not yet stroking, just simply wrapping her fingers around your length. You were so small the tip barely poked through the end of her closed fist. "Ooohh," she cooed quietly, kissing your lower stomach, "look at how big you got. You almost fill mama's entire hand, don't you? You must've been having some very naughty thoughts."
You couldn't bring yourself to refute her again. You only squeaked and let go of your shirt, letting it fall over her hand and cover your cock.
"Ah ah," she chided, holding your shirt up again. "Hold it up nice and high for mama. We don't want it getting in the way."
You obeyed, clutching the shirt with white knuckles as she slowly started to stroke you. "MamaâŠ" you whimpered so quite she could hardly hear.
"I'm right here baby," she reassured. "Just hold onto mama however you need to, okay? Do you wanna hold my hand?"
You nodded frantically, already reaching out for her hand.
"Okay, brave boy. Take a big deep breathe for me." She demonstrated a breath, letting you mirror her. In through your nose, then out through your mouth. "Good boy. Now just relax. Let mama make you feel good."
With that, she kissed your tip and took the entirety of your length into her mouth.
Almost instantly, your knees buckled. If not for her hold on your waist, you would've fallen to the ground. "Mama," you whimpered again, this time with more of moan.
You fit in her mouth so perfectly, just exactly long enough to hit the back of her throat without making her gag. She nuzzled the downy soft peach fuzz that sat in a perfect patch where corse, thick pubic hair should've been. Even though you had more body hair than most people, it always seemed to grow like this: in soft, fuzzy patches that covered nearly every inch of your body.
Wanda loved it. Obez'yanka. Her precious little monkey. She loved to run her fingers through the hair or feel it, soft and smooth against her face. Even now, with your body twitching and spasming with pleasure, she couldn't help but indulge herself by pushing her nose against it.
She pulled away for a moment to kiss the inside of your thigh and suck gently on your balls. Despite your age they had never completely dropped and still sat half tucked up inside of you. There was only a slight bulge where they peaked out from their hiding place.
That didn't make them any less sensitive, however. You gave Wanda's hand a squeeze and whined pitifully.
She only smiled and moved back to your shaft, rolling her tongue around the head until you were close to tears. When she sucked, hollowing out her cheeks and bobbing her head slowly, you weakly pushed her head back.
"MamaâŠ" you panted, weak but desperate and determined. "Mama⊠you⊠you have to stop mamaâŠ"
Wanda sat up, face immediately filled with concern. "What's wrong, angel? Do you not like when mama plays with you like that?"
"No, I do⊠I just⊠IâŠ" you shifted uncomfortably, crossing your arms and hugging your elbows. You couldn't bring yourself to look at her, instead opting to look at the floor as you whispered "It feels like I'm gonna have a potty accidentâŠ." Your ears and face were beet red, humiliated by the confession.
"Oh," Wanda chuckled softly, more with relief than amusement. "That's a very natural feeling to have when mama plays with your little prince parts. I promise you're not gonna have a potty accident."
You hugged yourself tighter, rubbing your legs together to relieve the ache. While you trusted mama, you couldn't think of anything in the world worse than accidentally going potty in her mouth. "But⊠just in case⊠I don't wanna go in your mouth."
Wanda almost had to laugh. She found it so funny how nervous and shy you were about using the bathroom in general. Your anxiety was so bad she often caught you holding it until your bladder was near bursting. It wasn't uncommon for her to insist on helping you in the restroom, worried you'd push yourself to the point of obstruction or infection.
Instead, she managed to keep a serious expression and nodded with understanding. "Okay, honey. That's okay." She gently rubbed your side, snaking her hand up under your sleep shirt. "I tell you what, how about mama goes and gets a nice little washrag and we can keep playing on the couch. That way, if you have any accidents, the washrag will be right there to catch it."
You considered her words for a second. One hand, you would be absolutely humiliated to accidentally pee on Wanda in any capacity. But on the other hand, it felt really really good when mama was playing with you. Besides, it certainly wouldn't be the first time Wanda had dealt with one of your accidents. Hesitantly, you nodded your head and whispered "okay."
Wanda beamed, scratching lightly under your chin. "That's my brave boy," she praised. "Come on, let's go find a spot to get comfy on the couch."
Wanda made a effort to make the corner seat of the couch as comfortable as possible without leaving you waiting for too long. By the time you were situated in her lap, you were completely naked clutching your teddy bear for courage.
"That's my good boy," Wanda whispered from behind you. You could feel her chest pressing up against your back and her breath hot against your ear. She placed her legs over your, pinning your thighs apart and your legs open.
You whimpered, feeling terribly exposed in the new position.
"Shshshhh," she soothed. "You're okay. You're being so brave. Mama's got you." She wrapped her hands around your waist, cupping a washrag in her left hand and placing under your hard and leaking cock. The "rag" was actually a burp cloth, made extra soft and absorbent. She could help but take a moment to admire how precious your tiny dick looked, straining over the duck printed fabric. "Mmm you're so handsome, baby. My sweet, sensitive little boy."
She didn't need to use her full hand, just her pointer finger and thumb folded into a tight ring. When your body started to twitch and you instinctively started to roll your hips, she kissed the side of your neck. "That's my good boy. Hump mama's hand. You can do it. Just like that," her voice was high and praising, like she was talking to a toddler learning to walk. "You're making mama so proud and happy. You're my perfect little angel, aren't you? Are you mommy's perfect little prince?"
You nodded, hardly able to open your mouth in any attempt to verbally respond. There was a small, strained whimper every time you exhaled, and, from the sound of it, you were struggling to breathe. "'m mama's⊠little princeâŠ" you finally managed before your hips started to staggered and froze in place. You were already so close, but you weren't exactly sure what you what you were close to. It still felt like you were going to pee and it made you too nervous to keep going.
Wanda took over from there, adding in another finger and pumping you faster. Your entire body shuttered and your hands dug into her forearms when she ran her finger over your throbbing, sensitive tip. She could tell you were holding in your orgasm, too nervous to let go.
"You're okay, pumpkin. Mama's got you. You don't have to be scared. Mama would never ever let anything bad happen to you," she assured, buring her nose in your hair and kissing your head. "Just take a deep breath and relax for me. No, baby, don't struggle. Your body needs this. Let mama take care of you. That's my good boy."
Two tears rolled down your cheeks when you arched your back, body twitching as you came, shooting thin white ropes of cum into the rag. Your mouth opened in a silent scream that only came out as a slight squeak.
"Aww, that's it. That's my good boy. Oh my brave little prince. So perfect for his mama," she cooed, squeezing out the final drops before pressing her hand to your forehead to calm you. "Shshsh settle down, sweetheart. Settle down. Mama's got you. You're okay. I know. I know that was a big feeling for my baby boy. But you did so good, and you were so brave for me. It's okay if you need to cry. Mama's here. I'm so proud of you angel."
You turned around in her lap, burying your face in her neck. Your teddy bear was tossed haphazardly to the side as you started to cry. Your head felt so foggy it was impossible to think. You tried to open your mouth to speak, but every attempt was met with a whimper or little squeak.
Wanda rubbed her hand soothing up and down your back, rocking you gently in her lap. "Poor baby," she cooed. "Is it really hard to think about anything but mama after she made you feel so good?"
You nodded into her neck, pulling her closer. It seemed impossible that you could ever get close enough to her.
"That's okay, angel," she assured. "Mama's got you. She can handle all the big boy thoughts and you can stay in that fuzzy little space for as long as you need."
Your little hands made their way to the hem of her shirt, sliding just underneath to graze the soft skin of her waist. Her skin was so impossibly soft. You wanted more. With pleading eyes and a pathetic little whine, you tugged gently on her shirt, silently requesting she take it off.
"Aww sweet pea, do you want mama to take her shirt off?" She chuckled. "Is it gonna help you talk better if mama's not wearing her shirt?"
You nodded, continuing to paw at her waist, desperate to get closer.
"Okay okay." She giggled at your eagerness. "But you better not be fibbing just cause you wanna see mama's chest. That would be very naughty."
She almost had to laugh. The moment she slid the shirt over her head, your eyes went wide as saucers. She could practically see the tiny stars swimming in your pupils as you stared at her bare chest.
You lunged forward, wrapping your arms around her bare waist and resting your head on her soft, pillowy breast, nuzzling your cheek against them.
She stroked your hair and gently rocked you in her lap, unable to keep her hands from roaming your naked body. Starting up under your shoulder blades, she traced a line down the notches of your spine until she hit your tailbone. From there, she used both her hands to slide over the swell of your ass, massaging it with her strong fingers. You moaned softly into her chest, sheepishly buring your head between her boobs.
"Do you like it when mama touches you like that?" She asked quietly. "I just can't help it. Not when my precious boy's beautiful body is right here in front of me. And certainly not when he's feeling all floaty. Cause you can't really think about anything but making mama happy, can you? And this makes mama very happy, baby boy. So it makes you happy too, doesn't it?"
You nodded into her chest.
"C'mere," she said, hauling you up by the underarms and laying you across her lap so she had full access to the front of you.
Conveniently, it put you right at eye level with her nipple, which, unsurprisingly, found it's way into your mouth. She cradled your head in the crook of her elbow, gently guiding your head.
She chuckled. "Oh, I should've known that's what my little man wanted," she mused, placing her pointer finger against the palm of your hand until you reflexively wrapped your hand around it. She lifted the hand to her mouth, kissing your knuckles with a gentle smile.
You made her so incredibly happy like this. It was everything she'd ever wanted, to be your mama, and you were beyond precious. She traced her thumb over your cheek, feeling the rhythmic pulse of your suckling. Then she moved to your forehead, brushing the hair away from your face and grazing your long, fluttering eyelashes with the pad of her thumb. Your eyes were nearly closed, and, on the rare occasion you blinked them open, she could see they were rolled uselessly into the back of your head. You were completely limp in her lap, laid across her perfectly exposed and vulnerable.
She traced her hand down to your sternum, then moved to either side to lightly circle your sensitive nipples. You hummed, sending a pleasant vibration through her chest. When you started to squirm, she continued downward to your navel, carding through the fuzzy happy trail that grew below your belly button. As she inched lower, your legs instinctively parted, practically begging her to continue her journey downward.
You were completely flaccid by now, having shrunk back down to your usual 2 inches. Wanda gently lifted your shaft, stroking it between her pointer finger and thumb. Your hips twitched and you pulled away from her for just a second before she beckoned you back. "Shshsh," she hushed. "It's okay. Mama knows you're sensitive baby. Just relax and let mama play with her special boy, okay?"
Without protest, you went back to your gentle, mindless suckling, leaving her free to do as she pleased. Sensing you may not be ready to be overstimulated after cumming for the first time, she switched to gently massages your balls, rolling the half-un-decended sack against her palm.
"That's my good boy," she praised, moving now to gently cup her hand between your legs and simply hold it there.
You could've fallen asleep just like that, peacefully suckling from your mama while she cradled your most intimate parts in her loving hand. The connection between the two of you felt impossibly strong you could've sworn your hearts were beating in tandem. You could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest, and started to subconsciously match your rhythm with her's.
It was only when Wanda absently reached out for the soiled rag that you were pulled from your stupor by an overwhelming sense of embarrassment and guilt.
"I'm sorry, mama," you whined, so quiet she almost didn't hear. You shifted, sitting up slightly in her lap so you were no longer supported only by her arm.
"Aw, baby, what are you sorry for? You were so perfect for mama," she asked, trying to get a look at your face while you desperately tried to hide it in her chest.
"I made a big mess!" You cried, embarrassed and a little confused by everything that just happened. Your head still felt so foggy and it was hard to think. Emotions seemed to just spill out of you, impossible to control.
"First of all," she started, pulling your head back so she could see you. "What does mama always say about messes?"
"That⊠that I shouldn't feel bad because⊠cause little boys make messes sometimes and⊠and that it's just part⊠part of growing up," you stammered.
"And that mama will never ever be mad you for making a mess because she loves that you're her little boy," she added.
You sniffled and curled into her shoulder. "Yeah. That too."
"And second of all," she continued, "this mess is a very very special kind of mess. One that only happens when little boys feel really really good. Mama will always be happy when you make a special mess for her. So no matter where or when it happens, if you make a special mess, you can come tell mama and she'll be happy to clean it up for you, okay?"
You nodded, reaching up and grasping at her so you had something to hold on to. "Okay, mama."
Wanda looked down at the rag, now covered in your whitish, watery semen, and smiled. She couldn't help but think of how sad it was that most mothers never got to experience this moment: their little boy's first ever orgasm.
She wondered how you would've handled it had you discovered this on your own. If she had to make a guess, she would've bet you would've come to her anyway, crying and confused about what happened. It simply wasn't in your nature to try and hide things like this from her.
Maybe in another lifetime entirely you would've tried to hide the evidence, carefully tucking it down into a laundry basket only for her to find it later when she went to wash your clothes. Hell, maybe you wouldn't have made the discovery alone. Maybe you would've found out fooling around with some girl.
Wanda didn't like to think about that possibility, though.
It wasn't necessarily a matter of jealousy, but rather a sense of protection. She was sure the fumbling fool would've ruined it for you one way or another. Chances are she would've laughed you off the moment you pulled your pants down. She wouldn't be able to see your small penis for what it truly was: a precious reflection of your purity and innocence.
Wanda smiled to herself as she considered how, even in this scenario where you'd strayed so far from her loving embrace, you'd still most likely end up running back into her arms. Their were thousands of possibilities of how this could've happened, and they all ended with you in this exact same position, naked and spent across her lap.
She tossed the rag aside and wrapped both of her arms around your waist, kissing the crown of your head. You were quiet and contemplative, tracing light figure 8s on the skin above her collarbone. She loved seeing you like this: her smart little boy thinking his big thoughts. If she focused, she could practically see the wheels turning in your little head as you thought through your feelings.
"Mama?"
"What is it, angel?"
"I love you." Your words were simple and quiet, spoken without ever even looking away from her collarbone.
"I love you too, sweetheart," she replied. "Your mama loves you so much. More than anything in the universe."
There was another long silence as you sat up straighter, wrapping your arms around her neck and buring your face in the crook of her shoulder.
She rubbed gentle circles on your back. "Can you tell mama about how your feeling right now?" She asked, almost nervous to hear the answer.
You gave her a tiny shrug, still very confused about what had happened and how you felt about it. "I feel like I'm sleepy but I don't wanna go to sleep cause if I go to sleep mama won't be there."
Wanda leaned her head on top of yours and pulled you closer. "You just really wanna be with mama right now, huh?"
You didn't even have to think to answer that question. You nodded.
"What if," she started, pulling a throw blanket from the back of the couch and starting to wrap you into a cocoon, "we went back into mama's office and you sat on my lap while I finished work. I can set up some Blue's Clues on the monitor. And then after I get done with work we can go get ice cream. How does that sound?"
You didn't respond for a second, and then said "I wanna watch Elmo."
Wanda giggled. "Alright, baby. Elmo it is." She reached down and grabbed the discarded teddy bear from the floor. "Don't forget Mister Maxwell." You tucked the bear neatly under your arm.
You were the picture of innocence when Wanda picked you up, carrying you into her office with your naked legs and arms wrapped around her. The blanket was thrown over you like a cloak, covering the entirety of your naked backside. Between your chest, which was pressed against Wanda's and the blanket, very little of your body was exposed to the cold air.
If you hadn't been tired before, you certainly were now. Wanda was so warm and the blanket was so soft. Had you been able to relax a little bit more, you would've been asleep already. But you were still feeling terribly clingy and reluctant to leave Wanda in favor of sleep.
When she sat down and turned the colorful cartoon onto one of her monitors, you were immediately enraptured. It took so little to distract or entertain you. You stared at the screen, arms folded around your teddy bear as your naked body straddled her's. Absently, you tucked your bottom lip under your front teeth, exaggerating your overbite. If it weren't so damn adorable, Wanda would've tried to break that habit.
Predictably, you didn't last long like that, warm and cozy, pressed up against your mama's chest. By the end of the third episode, Wanda looked down to find you fast asleep on her shoulder.
She smiled and kissed your temple. You really were her everything. Her boy. Her baby. Her little prince.
You Are Going Down With Me, Hand in Unlovable Hand
Mean Southern Wanda x Reader
Part Four
Here are Parts One, Two, and Three
â ïžTW: Graphic depictions of drug detox, vomit, mentions of past trauma
You didnât want to tell Wanda quite yet, but this wasnât the first time youâd helped someone through withdrawal. In fact, compared to most people, you could call yourself a seasoned professional.
You were well aware that withdrawal was far from a one dimensional process. There were, of course, the physical hardships. Between the constant vomiting and the profuse sweating, youâd cleaned up an endless amount of bodily fluids over the past few days. Dehydration was an endless battle, with how much fluid she was losing and how little she was able to keep down. Neither of you were getting very much sleep due to the violent shaking that consumed her entire body.
But what had proven even more difficult was the emotional aspect of the withdrawals. Wandaâs moods had been unpredictable, swinging from hopeless and depressed to furious and irritated. One second she wanted you close, holding her while she cried, and the next she was swearing at you, blaming you for everything that had happened to her. It didnât help that you were both exhausted and sharing a small space either.
It had been 3 days since Wanda had shown up in your trailer, and you were being the best caretaker you knew how to be. It broke your heart to see her like this, pale, feverish, and trembling in your bed. There wasnât anything you wouldnât have done to take the pain away from her, and you felt so helpless to make her feel any better.
You knelt in front of her, bringing her a fresh ice pack from the fridge and pressing it to the back of her neck. âYouâre being so brave, mama,â you whispered, wiping the sweat off her face and kissing her temple. âI love you, and Iâm really proud of you. For trying to get better.â
âFuck off,â she swore, snarling at you. âUnless youâve got something for me to drink or smoke, get out of my face.â
At this point, a little over 72 hours into detoxing, most of your interactions were like this. Wanda felt so horribly sick. She could hardly move. Even sitting up in bed required your help and every pillow you owned. And still, she was only getting sicker and probably would continue to do so for the next day or so.
In a way, you were almost glad Wanda couldnât move. If she were well enough, you were sure she wouldâve left by now and found something to numb the pain. Sheâd pleaded with you to give her something: drugs or alcohol, but you refused. In her mind, you figured, you were probably her jailer: trapping her here and refusing to give her anything that would actually help her feel better, even if only temporarily.
Conceptually, 3 days wasnât a long time to be sick. But sick days do not pass like well ones do. You could see in her eyes that every waking moment was agony. She felt so ill that it was impossible for her to feel anything else.
There was nothing you could do to distract her. Any sort of electronics just worsened headaches and nausea, and she couldnât focus her eyes long enough to read or write. Youâd taken to reading to her out loud: classic novels from the library like âLittle Womenâ and âPride and Prejudiceâ. But you werenât great at reading aloud, and your constant stammering and corrections just irritated her.
The only thing that seemed to bring her any sort of relief was sleeping.
So when you came back 15 minutes later to check on her and found her asleep, you breathed a little easier.
Sleep was not only a relief to her, but a relief to you as well. You loved to watch her: eyes peacefully closed and breathes coming in, even and consistent. When she was like this, she seemed so innocent to you. You could kneel in front of her and believe that she hadnât ever actually done anything wrong. She was just someone hurting, and none of this was really her fault.
You crawled into bed behind her, careful not to wake her, and you curled up against her back. For a moment, everything in the world felt quiet and still. It was just a mama and her little one, curled up in bed together.
âI know you donât believe me⊠when I say Iâm proud of you,â you whispered, tracing the notches of her spine with your pointer finger, âbut Iâm serious. I know it doesnât feel like this is your choice, and youâre just doing this because you have to or because Iâm making you. I know you think you fucked up and that now youâre getting better just because thatâs what people do but itâs not.â
âI⊠I had a mama, before,â you continued. âAnd she didnât try to get better. And I no matter how hard I tried, I couldnât force her to. So, even though it doesnât feel like youâre strong enough to make this decision on your own, some part of you wants to get better. Because, if you didnât, you wouldnât.â
You scooted closer to her, not daring to wrap your arms around her, but still pressing yourself as close to her as you thought you could get away with. âIâm gonna be someone worth getting better for this time. I promise,â you finished, kissing her spine and nuzzling your head under her shoulder blade.
She waited until you fell asleep to turn around and wrap you in her frail arms. âI really hope youâre right about me. About being strong enough for this,â she breathed quietly, kissing the top of your head. âBecause youâve always been worth getting better for.â
You Are Coming Down With Me, Hand in Unlovable Hand
Mean Southern Wanda x Reader
Part Three
Hereâs Parts One and Two
â ïžTW: Drugs, semi graphic depictions of overdose, general heartache. Also, for the record this is not how you should ever treat an overdose. It was done like this for storytelling purposes.
Wandaâs second absence did not last as long as the first. It was only two days later, 12 hours into a Sunday double shift, when her name and picture popped up on your phone.
Despite being in the middle of a stack of dishes, you dropped everything and immediately picked up. âHello? Mama?â
âY/N? IâŠâ she started, sounding beyond exhausted. It wouldnât surprise you if she hadnât slept since leaving your house on Friday. She took a strained, shaky breath before finishing. âI need you.â
âO-okay,â you replied, surprised by the blatant vulnerability in her voice. âWhere are you? I get off at 9. I couldâŠâ
âNo⊠I⊠I think I need you now,â she admitted quietly. âIâm at your place. I was⊠I planned on⊠I was waiting for you to get home but⊠Iâm⊠I feel so sick⊠and Iâm so tired. And⊠and Iâm afraid that if I fall asleep⊠I wonâtâŠâ
You waited for her to finish, but she never did. It was clear, now, that she was crying, breathing in short, strained pants. âOkay. Iâm leaving now. Iâll be home in 5 minutes. Just stay on the phone with me. Please just talk to me. About anything.â
âIâŠâ she struggled, growing wearier by the second. âIâm sorry. I⊠I shouldnât have⊠you donât deserveâŠâ
âNo. None of that. Please,â you stated firmly, running out the back door of the diner and to your car. At any other time, you wouldâve given anything to hear those words come out of her mouth. Now, they made your stomach twist with dread. It felt like she was making a deathbed apology.
âY/N⊠IâŠ.â Her words were starting to slur bad now. Just as you turned the key in the ignition, she started to cough and then you heard the sound of the phone hitting the ground.
âMama? Mama are you still there?â You asked in vain. It wasnât hard to put the pieces together; you just desperately wanted to believe it was anything else. Anything was better than imagining you opening your trailer door just to see you were too late.
You made the 5 minute drive in 3 minutes, speeding down back roads and running every red light and stop sign. By the time you pulled into the gravel lot, you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. Breathlessly, you ran to the door, grateful to find it was already unlocked.
Wanda was in the sitting area, slumped to the side. You fell to your knees in front of her, holding your breath as you searched her neck for a pulse. Relief flooded your body when you felt her heart beating under your fingertips. She was alive, even though she didnât much look like it.
Her skin was pale, almost blue, and clammy. You pulled her eyes open to find her pupils were tiny and unresponsive, swallowed almost entirely by her green irises. Then, you pressed your ear to her purple lips, listening for her breaths. They came in shallow, erratic burst that sounded more like gasps.
âMama?â You cried, desperately shaking her by the shoulder. âMama please wake up. Please. You have to wake up.â
She groaned, so quietly you hardly heard it. âBaby,â she whispered, still unable to open her eyes. âYou came.â
âOf course I did,â you sniffled. âYou called. I love you, mama.â
âIâŠâ she started, but passed out again before she could finish.
With all your strength, you moved her off the cushions and dragged her into the bathroom. For the first time ever, you were grateful for how small your trailer was, as you only had to move her a few feet. She whined weakly as you started to pull off her clothes, managing to get most of them off before pulling her into the bathtub, turning the shower on cold, and crawling in behind her. You wrapped your legs around her on either side, keeping her body propped up against yours with her face shielded from the water.
âMama,â you cried, burying your face into her shoulder. You held her tight to your chest, feeling each breath come and go. âPlease donât leave me. I⊠I need you.â
It wasnât exactly clear at any given moment whether she was conscious or unconscious. Still, if only for your peace of mind, you decided to talk to her. âTheyâre⊠um⊠theyâre building some new houses, on that hill across from the river. Remember where that church burned down a few years back? I guess they⊠finally decided to do something with that land.â Each of your words were interrupted with sniffles and tears, but you kept going. âI was thinking we could maybe⊠go to one of the open houses together. I think youâd like it there, mama. We could find one with a patio overlooking the river. I could build us one of those wooden swings you like so much: the kind with the cupholders on the sides for your coffee. Would you like that mama? If we could have our own little house. With a yard and maybe a garden. Enough space for the boys to run around. We could even get a dog. Or a cat. Or any kind of animal you want. I know the diner ainât exactly a high paying job, but Iâve been saving, mama. And I was talking to Steve about maybe doing an apprenticeship at the auto shop over the summer. Iâm pretty good at fixing things and Iâve always liked cars. What do you think of that, mama? Do you think Iâd make a good mechanic? I could make good money doing it if IâŠâ Tears finally took over as you sobbed into her shoulder. It was so easy to daydream about a life with Wanda. Imagining a life without her, on the other hand, was a thought too painful to bear.
âI think youâd look handsome⊠in one of those little jumpsuits.â
âMama?â You choked, still shaking and gasping for air.
âYeah,â she responded. âYeah thatâs me. Iâm your mama.â
âAre youâŠâ you stammered. âAre you okay?â
âNo,â she groaned. âBut I will be. Just⊠get me out of this tub and into a warm blanket. And Iâm gonna need that trash can again.â
You kicked the faucet, turning off the water and pulling the towel off of the rack. Her skin was cooled off now, and her color was starting to come back, though you still had to help her walk to the bedroom. You hadnât changed much, since sheâd been there on Friday, just tidied up some of the clothes. The trash can and mound of pillows were still in place though, already perfectly adjusted to accommodate her body.
You grabbed her an apple juice and some salad crackers from the kitchen, both clearly snagged from the diner. If she was going to be sick, you thought, she might need some ice to suck on as well. You emptied an ice tray into a cup and refilled it for later.
Wanda was still conscious when you returned to the room. You attempted to get her to eat a little by hand feeding her and bargaining over every tiny cracker.
When you settled onto the floor, just as you had two days earlier, Wanda pouted. âYou can sleep on the mattress, you know? Iâm not kicking you out of your own bed,â she argued.
âI know. I just⊠I never want to make you feel taken advantage of, when you wake up sober,â you explained.
Wanda was silent for a minute, then she asked âwill you do it if I eat another cracker?â
âFine,â you conceded, getting up off of the floor and crawling into the bed behind her. You wrapped your arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder blade, pressing your forehead against her spine.
âI⊠umâŠâ you started awkwardly. âIâm not complaining⊠because I really love having you here no matter what or how long you stay⊠but⊠I would really really like it if you were here tomorrow morning⊠please.â
Wanda sighed. âI wonât go anywhere,â she said. âBut this is gonna be messy. Donât say I didnât warn youâ
You Are Coming Down With Me, Hand in Unlovable Hand
Mean Southern Wanda x Reader
Part Two
Hereâs Part 1
â ïžTW: heavy drinking, sexual advances made while drunk, vomiting, abandonment â ïž
You didnât see Wanda for 5 days after the night sheâd come to you battered and bruised. Sheâd stopped answering your text messages and wasnât picking up phone calls. She didnât even appear to be home the few times youâd stopped by her house. Granted, with her husband and kids there, you were too afraid to actually knock on the door.
Still, when a rogue pair of headlights came barreling down the gravel path of the trailer park at half past 1am, you knew exactly who it was.
You didnât want to wait a single second longer to see her, so you threw on a t-shirt and some boxers and met her outside.
She hardly made it three steps out of her truck before she was on you, kissing you hard and pawing clumsily at your waist. Her breath reeked of alcohol and she could hardly hold herself upright. Each step was more of a stumble, like she was falling forward and catching herself rather than walking. Her lips moved sloppily down your neck and her hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, drunkenly groping your hips. She was clearly hammered.
You pushed her back, careful to still hold her up so she didnât fall. âMama, youâre-â
She lurched forward again, pushing her tongue into your open mouth and silencing you.
âStop. Listen. You have to stop. You are too drunk to do this right now,â you said, grabbing her by the shoulders and holding her away from you.
âBut itâs been so long,â she slurred, slumping against your shoulder and letting her lips brush against your neck.
âAnd it can wait until morning. Come on. Letâs get you inside,â you said, wrapping your arm around her waist as you both hobbled to your front door.
You bent forward to take off her shoes, ignoring her unintelligible protests and dragging her to your bed. âI donât⊠I donât feel good,â she mumbled, already starting to gag and dry heave before you could even get her comfortably sat down.
âLay down,â you whispered, propping her up against the wall with every pillow you owned. âIâm gonna get you some medicine, alright.â You grabbed a small trash can from next to your bed and emptied it onto the floor before handing it to Wanda. âIf youâre gonna throw up, use this. But preferably wait until I get back with a bag.â
Wanda groaned, twisting onto her side and curling in on herself. âHurry up.â
As quickly as you could, you grabbed an ice pack, a bottle of Tylenol, a couple of grocery bags, and a bottle of water. You knelt down next to the mattress, securing the bag in the trash and pressing ice pack into her head.
âI canât believe you drove here like this,â you muttered, rubbing the ice pack down her cheek as she instinctively pressed her warm face against it. âYou couldâve gotten hurt, you know? You couldâve died.â
She opened her mouth to respond, but, before she could get any words out, she was vomiting. You held her hair and rubbed her back, positioning her carefully over the trash can sheâd missed. Afterwards, you wiped her face with a worn T-shirt youâd discarded on the floor the night before. Her shirt was now filthy, leaving you with no option but to remove it.
âItâs okay. Youâre okay. Iâm gonna clean you up. Arms up,â you soothed, slipping her soiled shirt off carefully over her head. You wouldâve put her in the shower, but you didnât want her getting any more ideas about the two of you being naked together. Instead, you wetted a washrag and gently ran it down her face, neck, and chest. You took her jeans off too, leaving her in her underwear in hopes of cooling her off a little bit.
She groaned, still trying in vain to make advances, but she was easily subdued with a couple of chaste kisses and a soft blanket. You wrapped her up in a loose swaddle, leaving nothing but her head poking out.
By the time you finish cleaning her up, she was starting to fall asleep. You decided it would be best to let her sleep it off on her own. Every hour or so you could come in and check on her: check that sheâs breathing, clean her up, and make sure she had a clean trash can to throw up in to.
You turned her carefully onto her side and kissed her sweaty forehead, whispering softly to her whether or not she could hear you. âGoodnight, mama. Iâve love you. Iâm just gonna go lay in the sitting area. If you need anything, just call or throw something. Iâll be here.â
When you pulled away, you felt a hand close around your wrist. It shocked you so badly you snatched your hand away. You couldâve sworn she was sleeping.
âWait,â she groaned, weak and quiet. âDonât leave me. Please.â
It took a long moment for her words to sink in. For the almost full year you and Wanda had been seeing each other, sheâd never once said âplease.â
Typically, you wouldnât have stayed. She clearly was in no state to make decisions, and you didnât want her to wake up in the bed next to you, feeling that youâd taken advantage of her vulnerability. Still, leaving felt impossible now, and you were awfully worried something would happen, even just while you were 20 feet away on the other side of the trailer.
Eventually, you decided to split the difference, settling on to the floor in the small gap between the wall and the mattress. You waded up a sweatshirt to use as a pillow and laid beside her, reaching your hand out to caress her feverish face. âOkay, mama,â you conceded. âIâm not leaving. Iâll be right here.â
âYour hands feel⊠nice,â she breathed. Then, after a shaky inhale she whined âI missed you.â
You swallowed and wiped away a few of her tears with the pad of your thumb. âI missed you too, mama. I missed you so much. Iâve been thinking about you all week. I think about you all the time, you know?â
Between the exhaustion and the inebriation, you couldnât quite understand what she said just before falling asleep, but you were pretty sure it was âIâm sorry.â
You couldnât sleep that night, between your constant anxiety of something happening and the intermittent episodes of vomiting.
At 5:30, when you had to leave for your breakfast shift at work, you left her asleep in your bed. You left a note though, hanging at eye level on the front door. She couldnât have missed it.
Donât leave me. Please.
You brought lunch home from the diner: a turkey club and her favorite pancakes, planning to let her pick whether she was in a sweet or savory mood.
She wasnât there when you got back. You ate the club. The pancakes went bad in the fridge.
You Are Coming Down With Me, Hand in Unlovable Hand
Mean Southern Wanda x Reader
Part One
TW: Implied Domestic Violence
You hardly ever got to see Wanda on the weekends, aside from church picnics on Sunday. Most of the time you spent together was during the week when her boys were in school and her husband was at work.
So on Saturday night, when you were getting ready for bed and you heard a knock on the door, Wanda was the last person you expected to find standing there.
She was wearing a nightgown with a sweatshirt thrown hastily over top of it. Her hair was tangled up on one side and her makeup was smeared like sheâd been crying. There was a cut above her left eyebrow and a fresh bruise blooming around the eye and cheek. In all the time youâd known Wanda, youâd never seen her look so small.
âMama? What hap-â
âI donât want to talk about it,â she snapped. âNow, are you gonna let me in or are you just gonna stand there and look at me like Iâve grown a second head?â
Silently, you stepped to the side, welcoming her into the small trailer. She immediately headed for the kitchen cabinet, rummaging through them until she found a half empty bottle of vodka. She drank straight from the bottle, wincing as the liquor hit her tongue.
âSorry,â you flinched. âI donât really drink vodka. Thatâs probably been in there for a while. Thereâs some fireball in the freezer. I donât think thereâs much left but youâre welcome to it.â
While she located the fireball, you went to cupboard for some hydrogen peroxide and a cotton pad. When you tried to clean the wound, though, she dodged your hand.
âItâs too close to your eye to risk infection,â you argued.
âLeave me alone,â she snapped, swatting you away.
When she still evaded your help, you sighed. âPlease, mama. Just let me do this one thing and Iâll go to bed and leave you alone for the rest of the night.â
Finally, she stilled, letting you clean the wound before securing it closed with a plaster. You didnât want to leave her there, sitting on the closest thing you had to a sofa, downing gulps of fireball, but youâd made a bargain.
âThereâs an extra blanket in the storage area under the cushions. You can have one of my pillows. Just⊠come wake me up if you decide you want the bed,â you explained tiredly before slinking off to your room.
The bedroom didnât have a door, and the shotgun style of the trailer meant you could see where Wanda was sitting from your bed. You watched her, heart aching as she tried to get comfortable on the thinly cushioned sitting area. It took everything in your power not to get back up and insist she take the bed. It was nothing more than a full sized mattress on the floor, but it was better than nothing.
She sneered at you when she caught you staring. You turned away, pulling the blanket up over your head.
You mustâve laid there like that for over an hour, tensely trying not to move a muscle or peak at what Wanda was doing. It kept you so distracted, you didnât even hear the footsteps coming down the hall.
âScoot over.â She commanded.
You lifted your head, pulling the blanket down to look at her. âDo⊠do you want the bed? I can go-â
âNo. I want you to scoot over,â she repeated, more fiercely this time.
You shuffle towards the wall, letting her crawl into bed before shuffling back over to curl against her side. âDo you have enough blankets? Are you comfortable?â
âYeah. Iâve just got this annoying little shit pressed into my side,â she taunted.
âI can go lay out on the-â
âNo.â She interrupted. âStay.â
âOh. Okay,â you whispered, curling yourself around her.
You could tell she was still tense. Despite being surrounded by fluffy pillows and warm blankets, her muscles were still solid. In an attempt to get her to relax, you wrapped your arms around her and nuzzled her shoulder blade. Almost subconsciously, you placed a gentle kiss on the skin there. It came as a surprise to both of you when she said nothing, allowing the silence to settle over you.
In the end, you were the one that broke the silence with a shaky, tentative whisper. âMama? Did he hurt you? Cause if he hurt you Iâm gonna-â
âYouâre not going to do anything,â she interrupted firmly.
âBut⊠I could. I swear Iâm stronger than I-â
âYouâre. Not. Going. To do. Anything.â She repeated. âUnderstand?â
You tighten your hold around her waist, pulling her flush against you. âYes, mama. I understand.â
The silence returned. Now you were as tense as she was. In an attempt to lighten the mood, you tried to kiss her. She turned her head almost sheepishly, leaving you to kiss the corner of her mouth instead.
Embarrassed, you settled back in behind her, facing away from her. Still, your backs stayed pressed together.
âGood night, mama,â you whispered, trying to keep shaky tears out of your voice. It was hard to feel so helpless, like there was nothing you could do for her to make this better. âI love you.â
Wanda hummed in recognition, but didnât respond. You faded into a tense and fitful sleep, and, when you woke up, she was already gone.
Summary: After days spent wondering what Wanda and Natasha want to talk to you about, you finally get answers over a romantic (?) dinner.
Tags: Useless lesbians being useless, Wanda is fighting for her life, awkward love confession pt.2, they are all losers and I love them so much
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: Okay this took me forever but Iâm finally back from vacation and ready to get back to writing fics. If you need to go back and reread some chapters, the last two should suffice.
You stood outside the restaurant, anxiously shifting your weight between your feet. When you had packed to go to friend's place, you hadn't expected to go to any fancy dinners anytime soon. So you found yourself terribly underdressed in your nicest pair of jeans, and a slightly-too-small maroon blouse you borrowed from Kitty.
You felt awkward and out of place, so much so you considered just going back to your car to wait, but your confidence immediately shifted when you spotted Wanda and Natasha's car pulling into a parking spot across the street. The fabric of the your blouse went taut as you straightened your back. You couldn't help but smile at the two women as they rushed towards you with open arms.
They both looked exquisite. Wanda wore a black off the shoulder dress that hugged her body perfectly. Her small white purse matched Natasha outfit, a white cocktail dress with black accents on the skirt. They look like they always did: like they belonged together. And you looked like you always did: like you didn't belong with them at all. You swallowed, second guessing your choice to break the self-imposed silence.
But all of your doubts melted away when Wanda reached you, pausing for a moment to ask for silent permission before pulling you into a hug. You felt her chest expand in a deep inhale as she breathed you in. When she pulled away, you noticed tears building in the corner of her eyes. She quickly wiped them away. "Ugh," she groaned, clearly a bit frustrated with her own reaction. "I missed you."
You wrapped your arm around her waist and rested your head on her shoulder, pulling her into a quick side hug. "I missed you, too."
Natasha came next, playfully poking your side and ruffling your hair before pulling you into a hug of her own. You squealed as she lifted you off the ground.
"It's so good to see you," she said, squishing your head under her chin. When she put you down, she kept her arm rested in the small of your back. "You look⊠wow."
"That color suits you," Wanda added, absently fiddling with the cuff of your sleeve. She was clearly nervous. It was like she was avoiding looking you in the eye.
"Thanks," you smiled anxiously at them both. You still had no idea what this meeting was about, and Wanda's nerves were starting to rub off on you.
After a moment of awkward silence, Natasha gestured to the door. "Shall we?" You and Wanda both nodded simultaneously, shuffling into the restaurant without another word.
*******
At the table, Wanda and Natasha both sat across from you. You felt like you were on trail, like their collective glares would burn a hole through your skull if you stayed quiet for a second longer.
"How was Thanksgiving?" you started, desperate for any topic to cut the silence.
The two looked at each other as if they were both expecting the other to respond. Wanda smoothed a cloth napkin over her lap. "It was alright," she said. Then, looking down, she quietly added "we missed you. It hasn't been the same⊠without you there." She looked like she might cry again.
Natasha grabbed her wife's hand to keep her from fiddling, giving her an encouraging smile. The table fell back into silence as you surreptitiously hid your face behind your menu.
It was Natasha who spoke first this time, straightening up in her seat to make herself appear more confident. "So, y/n," she began. "Wanda and I asked you to meet us because we wanted to talk to you about something."
It took all your willpower not to bite back with a quippy 'I figured as much', but the tense atmosphere made teasing feel out of place. Instead, you simply raised your eyebrows. "Oh? And what would that be?"
"Your proposition," Natasha responded.
"My proposition?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
"Yeah," she continued. "What we talked about before you left. About your romantic feelings towardsâŠ"
"That," you interrupted, not wanting her to finish the sentence, "wasn't a proposition; it was more of a confession." You looked down at your lap, nervously fiddling with your fingers. "You don't really 'proposition' two married women about a romantic pursuit. I didn't say that because I wanted anything for you. I just⊠needed to tell you how I felt." You paused for a moment before correcting yourself. "Feel. How I feel."
Wanda leaned forward, reaching for your hand across the table. "Well, in that case, we have a confession of our own."
You looked up at her, surprised. Your hands raised from your lap and met hers in the middle of the table.
"We like you, y/n. A lot. And, as unusual as it all is, we want this," Wanda gestured between the three of you. "We want you to be part of us."
You smiled, blushing red from ear to ear. Unsure how to respond, you said "that⊠sounded more like a proposition than a confession."
"No. This is the proposition," Natasha corrected, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. "Come home with us. I know none of us know exactly what this will look like. And you don't have to make a choice right now, but think about, please. Consider giving us a chance to make sense of all of this. Together."
Your jaw went slack leaving your mouth hanging open in shock. You looked back and forth between them, unable to form a single word. This couldn't be happening. It felt impossible. Not only did these two women love you in the same way you loved them, but they were willing to alter the entire structure of their marriage to accommodate you. Even sitting across from them both, watching them shift nervously in their seats, you felt certain this had to be some kind of joke.
"Neither of us want to pretend like this isn't a huge ask," Wanda rambled anxiously, seemingly just intent to fill the tense silence. "I mean, you're young. It's completely understandableâ expected, evenâ if you don't want to delicate your 20s to a married couple almost twice your age. And, of course we'd do everything in our power to make you an equal part of this, but we also realize we've been married for a long time and we don't want you to feel like it's us and you, or that you're our third, or anything like that."
Natasha interrupted her tangent. "I think what Wanda is trying to say is it's not a sex thing."
Wanda put her face in her hand, and groaned. Her face was red with embarrassment. "No, that's not what I'm trying to say at all." She pinched her brows together and rubbed her forehead. "I mean⊠it isn't a sex thing."
"It's not just a sex thing, at least," Natasha cut in again.
"No! No, there's no sex!" Wanda corrected, blushing even hotter. Even her ears were red. "Yet, I mean. I- there can be sex if you want- just- that wasn't-"
You and Natasha giggled as Wanda thumped her head against the wooden table. She sat up with an exasperated sigh. She kept her eyes closed as she spoke, knowing she couldn't continue trying to be serious if she saw the goofy smiles on your and Natasha's faces. Her voice dropped into a calm, steady, and serious tone. "All I wanted to say is we're not doing this because we're bored, or because we're having some sort of age crisis. We don't want a third, we want you and nobody else."
She opened her eyes, glancing between you and Natasha. Then, both of their eyes settled on you, anxiously awaiting an answer. Wanda chewed on her bottom lip, shifting nervously in her seat. Natasha's anxiety was less obvious, but still present as she clenched and unclenched her fists.
"Yes," you finally said, watching as they both visibly relaxed. "But, I have some stipulations."
Wanda sat up straight again, making a point to give you her full and undivided attention. "Okay. Stipulations. I like stipulations."
"First," you started, looking between them. "I need you both to promise me you aren't doing this because you think I'm going to leave if you don't. If this isn't something you truly want, I will still come back. And, if at any point you decide you don't want this anymore, or it wasn't what you wanted, you have to tell me. You can't just grin and bear it because you're afraid I'm gonna leave."
Natasha put her face in her hands, groaning dramatically. "I can't do this again," she whined. "You two are impossible." She dragged her fingers down her face, theatrically clawing at it. "I swear you both spend so much time planning for the worst thing that could possibly happen you blind yourself to what is actually happening."
"What Natasha meant to say was," Wanda shot Natasha a sharp glare, "this is absolutely something we want, and we are happy to provide an reassurance you may need."
"Thank you, Wands," you huffed a laugh. "Second, I understand there's no way for me to come into this with equal footing. You two are married, and a lot olderâŠ"
"Careful nowâŠ" Natasha muttered.
"I just want to clarify that I'm okay with that. I don't necessarily need to feel equal, just⊠loved⊠equally," you explained, curling in on yourself slightly. You hadn't expected to feel quite so vulnerable saying that out loud.
Wanda gave you a gentle smile and reached across the table to squeeze your hand. "We can do that."
"I know you said you don't want a third, but," you shrugged, "I don't so much mind being third when you two are first and second. I love you two, together." You blushed red and shyly added "and I think it's kinda hot that you two are married and older."
You felt the toe of Natasha shoe move up your calf and she subtly winked. "We thought you might."
You blushed harder, inhaling sharply. It took all your willpower not to cut the conversation short and melt into her touch, but you had more you wanted to be sure was discussed. You playfully kicked Natasha's foot away, swatting at it with your own. "One more thing," you continued. "And this is a decision I want you two to make because it affects you a lot more than it affects me." You straighten your posture as if you were preparing to give a presentation or a speech. "For me, dating two older women is⊠maybe a little cheeky, but mostly inconsequential. But for you allâyou have reputations to uphold. And I understand having a much younger woman hanging off your arm might not be the image you want for yourselves. That said, I totally understand if you want to keep this whole thing," you made a circle gesture with your hand, pointing at both of them and yourself, "on the down low."
"No!" They both said simultaneously, scrunching up their faces.
"We are not gonna make you pretend this is anything other than what it is. We wouldn't ask you to do that," Natasha explained. "Besides, I'm proud of you. I want people to know you're ours." She paused for a second before adding, "if that's what you decide, of course."
You smiled. "Nothing would make me happier."
"So no more stipulations?" Natasha asked, playfully smirking.
"Not that I can think of."
"You know what that means?" Natasha said. When neither you or Wanda responded, she continued. "It's time for our first date."
********
The rest of the dinner was spent catching up on the past couple of weeks. You told them about the past week and a half in Hoboken: Kitty's disastrous attempt at pumpkin pie, the way her cat had become inexplicably obsessed with you, the trip up to New York City that ended with you both getting lost on the subway. They told you about Thanksgiving and how Yelena confessed to keeping a secret dog in her dorm room.
You expected it to be awkward in the way first dates were usually awkward. You thought there would be an air of uncertainty and nervous small talk, but there wasn't. They were still just Wanda and Natasha, your friends.
Well, your friends plus a tiny bit of extra teasing.
The toe of Natasha's shoe glided up and down your calf the entire meal, making you squirm and yelp. It amused her endlessly to fluster you. She would never get tired of watching your cheeks flush red and hearing you yelp as pointed leather tip of her heel made its way up between your knees.
Halfway through the meal, Wanda slid into the booth on your side of the table and rested her hand comfortably on your thigh. She kept you close, tucked up against her side as you ate. She fed you bites off her own plate and ate from yours, chuckling and wiping pasta sauce from your chin when you missed your mouth with a forkful of noodles.
You noticed, after some time, that Natasha was playing footsie with Wanda as well, though Wanda was quicker to shut her down. You realized through the playful teasing that you enjoyed watching Wanda and Natasha just as much as being involved. Now that you were officially part of their dynamic, any lingering jealousy had faded into a pleasant tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach. Something about Wanda's commanding glare and Natasha's almost sheepish obedience sent a shiver up your spine. You loved them both and you loved that they loved each other.
You made plans with them to move back to their place the following evening. As much fun as it had been to stay with your friend for the week, your body protested against the idea of spending many more nights on her pull-out couch.
After dinner, Wanda and Natasha walked you back to your car. Wanda held your hand, smiling from ear to ear and glowing with the giddy excitement of someone in the early stages of falling in love. Youâd be lying if you said the adorable expression wasnât contagious. You could feel your hand tingling where her skin touched yours.
"Can't we convince you to come home with us tonight and we can go get your things tomorrow?" Natasha asked, batting her eyelashes playfully.
You chuckled. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid Kitty might actually hunt me down if I don't tell her about this immediately. She's been waiting on pins and needles since I left the house. I'm afraid you'll have to find a way to soldier on without me for one more night."
"Alright, alright," Natasha conceded, leaning against your car and winking. "We'll do our best."
Wanda opened your car door and ushered you inside. As soon as you were seated, she leaned forward and quietly asked "can I kiss you?"
You paused for a moment, staring at her lips and then back into her eyes. "IâŠ" your cheeks burned red, flustered, "if I kiss you now, I don't think I'll be able to stop."
Wanda smiled and kissed your temple. "Tomorrow, then."
"Tomorrow," you agreed with a small nod. The moment she pulled away you licked your lips, immediately regretting your decision to not kiss her.
Natasha came next, giving you a short kiss on the cheek. "Goodbye, love," she whispered, breathe hot against her ear. Despite the usual playful energy between the two of you, her voice was low and serious. She needed you to know she was being nothing but genuine now. "We'll be waiting for you. Whenever you're ready."
She closed your door, waving you off just as they both had only a few days ago. Except this time, as you pulled out of the parking spot, you didnât feel heavy with anxiety and dread. You felt ecstatic, like the weigh of the past week had lifted and now you were floating.
Summary: After receiving your first ever spanking as a punishment for cutting class, you decide you need to be a brat in order to get another one. The problem is, youâre not quite sure how.
CW: mentions of spanking, light humiliation, minor cursing
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: Iâm trying to get back to writing more, and, while I donât feel 100% confident in this, Iâve gotta start somewhere.
A/N: This was originally a very different story about how your dommeâs kinks donât necessarily have to 100% match with yours and itâs okay to ask for things you want to try as long as they arenât a hard limit youâve discussed prior. But then teasing Mama Wanda who loves spanking her girl won out.
You anxiously paced the hallway, hyping yourself up for whatever you were about to do. Of course, you didnât know what, exactly, that was going to be yet. But you knew it had to be something really naughty.
Since youâd received your first ever spanking from Wanda two weeks ago, youâd been doing everything you could think of to misbehave. You just couldnât get it out of your head: the humiliation of laying naked over her lap. Her rough hands pinning you down while she beat your bottom until it was red and blistered. Those rough hands turning back to the gentle ones you know and love as she rubbed your back and put soothing lotion on your raw skin. And best of all, the pain didnât end there. For the next three days you couldnât even sit down without thinking about that night. It was heavenly.Â
The spanking that night was intended to be a punishment, but you found that you enjoyed it more than you ever thought possible. You missed the ache of having to sit on a cushion while you worked. You missed the sting of hot water hitting raw skin when you took a shower. You missed the constant awareness: the caution you took with every move. You were determined to get it back, no matter the cost.
The problem was, you weren't exactly sure how. Your attempts to act out the past couple of days had been minor annoyances at worst. You'd tried not washing the dishes when Wanda asked you to, but she just calmly asked a second time. You felt too bad to deny her again. You tried stealing something when you both went to the grocery store, but, when she saw you pick it up, Wanda just asked if you wanted it and bought it for you. You thought about doing a repeat of what had gotten you punished the first time: lying to Wanda about your class getting cancelled so you didn't have to go, but you liked school and keeping up your grades really was important.
No, if you wanted to get punished again, you were going to have to up the ante.
You took a deep breath and clenched your hands into fists, steeling yourself. Hesitantly, you raised your fist to knock on the door of Wanda's home office where she'd been working all morning. It would be naughtier if you just barged in, but you really didn't want to run the risk of actually interrupting something important. You softly knocked on the door.
"Come in!" she chimed happily.
You opened the door and pushed into the doorway, but the moment your eyes met hers, you froze like a deer in headlights.
"Is there someth-" she started before you cut her off.
"You're a⊠a bitch," you stammered nervously, tensing every muscle in your body and standing up perfectly straight.
Wanda froze too now, and the two of you stared at each other for a long moment. You didn't look as mean as you had wanted to, just scared. Wanda didn't look as mad as you had wanted her to either. She was just shocked, mouth still open.
You hadn't realized you were holding your breathe until your body forced you to exhale. Unfrozen, the reality of what you'd just done settled in on you, and your bottom lip started to quiver like you were about to cry. You wanted to run away, but you didn't make it three steps down the hall before she stopped you. "Hold it."
You turned back around, looking at her with wide eyes. She looked different now than she had a moment ago: still not angry, but definitely stern.
"Come here." She curled her fingers and pushed her chair back from her desk, facing you with her entire body.
You sheepishly shuffled to her desk, eyes flitting nervously around the room.
"Do you want to repeat what you just said to me?" She asked, adopting the severe voice you heard from her so rarely. You couldn't help the rush of arousal that flared in your belly.
"N-no," you squeaked. It wasn't a defiant 'no', but you really didn't want to have to say it again.
"Look at me," she commanded.
You looked at her with those same wide eyes, swimming with an intoxicating mix of fear and arousal.
"Say it again."
This time, it wasn't a question. Her tone left no room for argument. You swallowed. "You're a⊠aâŠ"
She raised her brows impatiently. "Go on. You said it just fine the first time."
You were trembling now, shifting your weight back and forth between your feet. "A⊠a b-b-biâŠ." The look in her eyes broke you immediately. You choked out a sob, tears pouring down your cheeks. "I can't do it, mama!"
Her stern demeanor dropped and she opened her arms, welcoming you into her lap. You accepted the invitation gratefully, wrapping your arms around her neck as you cried harder. "I'm sorry, mama. I'm so sorry."
"Shshsh," she hushed, rubbing your back. "Deep breaths, baby. Just breathe. It's okay. I've got you. Mama's got you."
"Are you⊠mad⊠at me?" You cried, gasping for air in between words.
"No, darling. I'm not mad at you," she soothed. "I just wanna talk about what happened."
"Are you⊠are you not gonna wanna be my mama⊠anymore?"
"Angel, of course I still want to be your mama," she reassured. "Just like I said. We're gonna talk about it, and then it's gonna be all better."
"Do⊠do you still⊠love⊠me?"
"I do, baby. I love you very much," She kissed your head. "Now, do you want some alone time to calm down or do you wanna stay with mama?"
"Stay⊠with⊠mamaâŠ" you stammered.
"Okay," she said, adjusting you position on her lap so you were sitting astride her thighs. "You can sit right here in mama's lap while I work. Then we can talk whenever you ready." She kissed your head and scooted her chair forward so she could continue working while you calmed down. She was sure to take breaks to kiss your temple, rub your back, or whisper reassurances every minute or so.
After about 15 minutes, your tears had finally subsided, and you leaned back so you could look at her. "Okay. I'm ready to talk now."
She stopped working giving you her full attention. With a gentle smile, she wiped the hair from your tear stained cheeks. "Good. Now, can you tell me what that was about?"
You look down, feeling embarrassed and a little foolish. "I⊠I wanted you to be mad at me."
She nodded. "Uh huh. And why did you wanna make mama mad at you?"
You were starting to get the impression that she already knew the answer, but she needed you to admit it. "I wanted another spanking," you admitted quietly.
"Mmm," she hummed thoughtfully, "and calling mama a bitch was easier than just asking for one?"
You fiddled nervously with your fingers. "Well⊠I thought⊠I⊠I was embarrassed."
She pulled you close and rocked you gently. "Aww, asking for what you want is hard, isn't it baby?"
You nodded. "You arenât supposed to like spankings. Spankings are for when you're in trouble."
"And who told you that?"
You shrugged. "I dunno. Nobody, I guess."
"Well," she started, kissing your temple, "I can assure you are very much allowed to enjoy being spanked. After all, I very much enjoy spanking you."
"Really?â You tilted your head, confused and curious. âWhy?â
"Mhm," she nodded. "I love watching your cute little butt get all red and bruised. And I love those sweet little noises you make when you get all sniffly and teary. And I love feeling you dripping onto my leg while I have you over my lap. And I love waking up next to you with your little butt in the air because it hurt when you laid on your back. And, most of all," she kissed your nose, "I love making you happy."
"I should also say," she continued, "there's nothing in the world that's sexier than a girl who knows what she wants and asks for it. And, if you get all embarrassed and blushy about it, all the more fun for me." Her lips twitched, slowly morphing into a sly smirk.
You furrowed your brows. "Hey! That's not nice!"
Wanda made a pretend pouty face, playfully mocking your expression. "Oh," she pouted in an exaggerated voice. "Do you not like it when mama makes fun of you for getting all embarrassed?"
You whined pitifully, and then you felt a hand creeping up your leg.
"Should I check just to make sure you arenât enjoying it?" She teased.
"No." You pouted firmly, clumsily climbing off of her lap. "I'm gonna come in here and ask for a spanking, and I'm not gonna be embarrassed at all."
"You are?" Wanda half-chuckled.
"Yeah!" You walked out of the office, gently closing the door behind you.
Wanda giggled to herself. "You go do that, honey."
A minute later, you softly knocked on the door again.
"Come in!" She sang again, trying to keep herself from laughing at this little show of yours.
"Mama," you said, trying to sound confident as you push back towards her desk again. "I want a spanking."
"You do?" She asked teasingly. "Maybe if you ask nicely, I can help you with that."
You sighed, realizing you already messed it up by not asking a question. You try to recompose yourself and asked "May I please have a spanking, mama? Please?"
Wanda smiled wide. "Your ears are so red, baby."
Your hands flew to cover your ears. "You're so mean!" You whined, shuffling back out of the room.
Wanda laughed to herself, then shouted after you in the hall. "Go in our room and wait for me! I want to see you kneeling naked on the bed!"
You paused for a moment, then you smiled. You'd done it, though not in the way you had expected. Maybe this way was going to be even better. Even Wanda's teasing couldn't keep you from being a little bit proud of yourself. You shouted back into the office before hustling into the bedroom.
Mean!Southern!Wanda Breastfeeding drabble inspired by @reagangreyjareau (I know you submitted an ask but I accidentally deleted it after getting frustrated with my first draft. Sorry đ )
Iâm still not really sure I love how this turned out, so Iâm not gonna add it to the Masterlist for now. Iâm not really sure I want this to be canon in the mean southern Wanda universe. Thank you @beekneelsformommy for looking over this and assuring me it was fine!
You couldnât quite recall the last time you had been this tired.
You had had the longest, most exhausting week ever. The work just never seemed to stop coming. It was like fighting a hydra: every task you completed spawned two more in its place.
And the odd thing was, you were handling it well, for the most part. Through sleepless nights and skipped meals, you were functioning better than anyone couldâve expected.
So why was it now, laid prone over Wandaâs chest, naked, bruised, and battered, that you finally felt the weight of it all. After an entire week of soaring through all manner of hell, it was the arms of your mama that finally undid you. Something inside of you felt that you were safe here. Finally, you could rest.
The feelings of security and comfort settled over you like a blanket made of lead. You felt comfortable, but heavy and weak: like any movement at all would take every ounce of strength you had left. You tried to talk, to lift your head and explain your plight, but all that came out was a pitiful cry.
âOh quit your whininâ,â Wanda scoffed, reaching down and lifting up your head. Your eyes hung heavy and half opened. Your left eye was almost completely shut, twitching like you were trying to open it but couldnât. âYou look pathetic, you know that? I wonder if everyone in this town knows that youâre always one good beating away from being nothing but a broken, whimperinâ little mutt.â
You whined again as she dropped your head back onto her bare chest. To your surprise, she threaded her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. âYouâre mine though, ya got that? Nobody else gets to break you like I do. Not even you.â
âMmhmm,â you nodded weakly âjust you. Only⊠only mama.â You wanted to respond with something more coherent, but your mind felt so empty. The gentle scratching of her nails was starting to make your head spin. It was getting harder and harder to think. There was only Wanda in every direction. Her sweet smell. Her soft skin.
Her taste.
Without even thinking, your lips parted, latching onto her chest where it lay below your mouth. You felt stars burst behind your eyelids as you started to gently suckle. Your tongue folded around her hardened nipple, easing it further into your mouth. It was bliss. You felt yourself melting into her, becoming part of her, for a single moment before you were pushed away.
âWhat the hell do you think youâre doing?â She barked, snapping you out of your stupor.
You shot up, recoiling away from her and covering yourself with a blanket. Suddenly you felt horribly exposed. âI-Iâm sorry, mama. I didnât mean t-â
âDidnât mean to what? Start sucking on me like a calf to a cow? What the hell were you thinking?â She interrupted angrily.
âIâŠIâŠ.â Your eyes started to well up with tears. A mixture of exhaustion and embarrassment had you at a breaking point. âIâm so sorry, mama! Please donât leave! Please! I⊠Iâll do anything justâŠ.â You started to sob, growing less and coherent with each broken explanation that spilled from your lips.
Wanda sighed, genuinely shocked and a little frightened by your reaction. Sheâd meant to tell you off, not give you a full blown breakdown. âOh, come here,â she said, gently pulling you back down to her chest. âCome on. It ainât worth all that fussinâ. I donâtâŠ.â She took a deep breath, trying to regain her own composure. âI ainât gonna leave you. Iâm not goinâ anywhere.â
Tears soaked her chest as she held you close, rubbing your back while you sobbed and rambled. âI-I wasnât thinking! Oh god. I wasnât⊠I didnât mean to⊠Iâm sorry. I-I⊠Iâm sorry. Please donât hate me, mama. Donât make me go.â
âHey. Hey! You gotta calm down. I told you I ainât going nowhere and neither are you.â She held your face up, making you look at her while she took some deep breaths. âThere ya are. Youâre okay. Now listen. Can you do that for me?â
You sniffled and nodded.
âI didnât mean to scare ya just now. Itâs not- you didnât do nothinâ wrong. It just⊠reminded me of something, is all,â she explained with an uncharacteristic level of sincerity and vulnerability. But as fast as it appeared, it faded away again, giving way to her usual brash and uncaring tone. âAs long as you stop that cryinâ you can⊠I guess you can suck on me all you want.â
âYou mean it?â You sniffled. âYou really donât think itâs⊠wrong or weird.â
âI think itâs weird as hell,â she quipped. âBut⊠well, I guess I just donât care all that much. âSides anything that gets you to shut up is a win for me. And if itâll finally put your ass to sleep, I might get an hour of peace.â
Hesitantly, you settled back into her arms, resting your head on her chest. She threaded her fingers through your hair again, this time guiding you to the nipple herself.
âWell? Go on,â she urged, sensing your hesitation.
You open your mouth again, going a bit slower this time. Your tongue found the harden bud and wrapped around it before sliding it towards your throat. It came so naturally, the soothing, gentle rhythm of your suckling. Your body knew what to do even before your mind did. It wasnât long before you were right back where you started, blissfully suckling in rhythm with her heartbeat and breathing. Your own lungs followed suit, inhaling and exhaling as she did. Your heartbeats synced with one anotherâs. It was hard for you, in your blissfully delirium, to tell which pulse was your own. It didnât matter anymore. All that mattered was that you were safe. You were taken care of. You could finally rest.
Wanda watched as your eyes fluttered closed and your jaw went slack. She could only hope you managed to fall asleep before you could see the smile on her face. Or the single tear running down her cheek.
This is just a little something I thought of a few nights ago. Iâve got southern Wanda on the mind. This occurs earlier in their story, after the second time they slept together.
[Tw: for the f-slur and, as usual, Wanda being mean]
The after the second time you and Wanda slept together in that god awful motel room, Wanda left you alone, face down on the stained mattress, pleasantly aching and sore while she went out to smoke.
You watched her through the sliding glass window, leaned over the railing in nothing but a thin silky robe. You could still see the outline of a harness on her hips, though the strap itself was sitting next to the sink to be cleaned.
The sight was enough to, slowly and begrudgingly, drag your aching body off the bed. You slipped into your boxers and out onto the small balcony.
Wanda didnât look at you, at first, just continuing to steadily blow smoke into the night sky. She started to speak before fully turning to face you. âSo, whatâs your⊠deal anyway?â She gestured vaguely towards you with her lit cigarette between her fingers.
âHow do you mean?â You asked, tilting your head in confusion.
âI mean,â she started, almost mockingly, as if she already expected you to know what she was talking about, âwhy are you spending your Friday night with an old lady? I mean youâre what? 21? Iâm twice that old and then some. So, what is it? Did your mama not hug you enough or something?â
You blushed and tucked your chin to your chest, suddenly very interested in the peeling paint on the balconyâs railing. âI⊠I donât know. I guess itâs⊠just the way that I am. Itâs the way that Iâve always been.â You spoke in a shaky whisper, picking at the rust on the metal rail.
If youâd look up, you wouldâve seen that Wanda was smiling down at you, leaning against the wall and crossing her arm over her chest. âWell Iâll be damned,â she smirked. âYouâre ashamed.â
âWhat?â You asked, head popping up to look at her. âIâm not-â
âOh please,â she interrupted. âYou werenât even blushinâ half so red when I made you watch yourself in the mirror while I stretched that tight asshole of yours around my strap,â She bent down until she was only a hairsbreadth away from your ear. âYou didnât seem to mind when I called you my little faggot for liking it so much, either.â
âI just⊠I donât know why Iâm like this, okay? I donât know. And I donât understand it any better than you do,â you finally snapped. You tucked your head away again, hoping she wouldnât see the tears building in the corners of your eyes. âMaybe it is something about my mom. Or maybe Iâm just a different kinda sick in the head. I donât know.â Your voice started to break, and you cried harder. Too hard to even try to hide it.
She nearly groaned and rolled her eyes, annoyed by your sudden outburst of emotion. Clearly she struck a nerve she didnât mean to hit. âOh, come on. None of that now,â she said, trying to make her voice sound as uncaring as she possibly could.
But when you didnât stop crying, she put out her cigarette and pulled you into her arms, tucking your head under her chin.
âDo you⊠do you think thereâs something wrong with me? Do you think thereâs something⊠bad about what Iâm doing?â You cried, looking up at her with what she couldâve sworn were the most pathetic eyes sheâd ever seen.
She huffed out a laugh. âNow honey, do ya really think Iâm in a position to be your moral compass?â She grabbed your chin and held your face so you were looking up at her. âLetâs put it this way. If you make it to the pearly gates, and the worst thing youâve ever done is fuck old women and pretend theyâre your mama, I think the good lord will let you in.â She let you go, leaning forward over the railing. âThere are worse things in the world than kinky sex and an Oedipus complex.â
You slowly approached her from behind, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder blade. âThank you, mama,â you whispered, rubbing your cheek against the silk robe.
She groaned and rolled her eyes, but didnât push you away. She didnât hug you back, but at least she didnât push you away.
A/N: Robin is in her mommy issues feels tonight, apparently. Named after the Susannah Joffe song "Die Your Daughter"
There was something about the massive mirrors in your stepmother's bathroom that always told you more about yourself than you cared to know. The biggest one covered the entire wall behind the fancy two-sink vanity. A smaller one rounded the corner, leaving you with two mirrors that, if you stared into the right spot could give you an infinite reflection.
Maybe it was just the sheer size of the mirrors or the fact you had to see yourself in some capacity no matter where in the room you look, but you somehow always found yourself staring into your many reflections, running your hands through your hair or down the side of your face.
Though your father and Wanda had taken on the role of your parents since your mother's passing, there was no physical indication that you were their daughter. You looked nothing like either of them. Your eyes and hair were dark where theirs were light and fair. Your nose was wide and your lips were thin as paper. Freckles covered every inch of your pale skin, and dark circles left purple marks under your eyes. You didn't look like Wanda or your dad. You looked like your mother.
Wanda peeked her head into the bathroom through the cracked door, lightly tapping her knuckles against the hollow wood. "Hey, honey. You ready?"
When you didn't answer, she stepped into the bathroom, appearing in the reflection beside you. She wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, clasping her hands below your navel. She could see the insecurity blooming in your eyes. "What's wrong, angel?"
You leaned back, resting your head against her collar bone. You laced your fingers with hers, settling them against your twisting stomach.
"You know, when I was a kid, people told me all the time that I looked just like my mother," you said, eyes never leaving the reflection. "And I thought that that was just the biggest compliment. Because I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the entire world. She was perfect to me. I wanted to be just like her. And now, I look at myself, and I see her face in mine, and," you turned around to look at her, scanning her face for a reaction. It was as if you expected her to finish your sentence for you. When you finally spoke again, your voice came out fragile and broken. "I don't want to be like her, mama."
She pulled you close, hugging you tight to her chest. "Oh honey," she whispered, swaying you gently where you stood. Tears spilled from the corners of your dark eyes soaking into the fabric of her shirt. When she pulled away, she cupped your face in her hands, wiping your hair from your damp cheeks. "You're my miracle, you know that? I mean it. There is no love between your mother and I. But for all her sins," she kissed the top of your head, resting her forehead against yours, "she gave me you."
"You aren't your mother, angel," she whispered, taking your hand in hers and gently kissing your knuckles. "You aren't anyone but you. And you are my everything."
You wiped at your nose with your sleeve, sniffling. "Why can't I look like you? Or dad, even?"
"Because you have to look like you, love," she responded, dabbing the inner corners of your eyes with a tissue. "You have to be my wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful girl."
"It's just⊠sometimes I look at myself and I see her and my future feels so fixed. Like she's the only thing I could ever become. It feels like I could run to the ends of the Earth, and I would never be rid of her. I could live 1000 years outside of her orbit and I would still die her daughter," you leaned forward onto the marbled vanity, only a few inches away from the mirror.
Wanda wrapped her arms around you again, resting her chin on your shoulder. "Well, I've got news for her," she started, kissing your cheek hard and playfully gritting her teeth. Her grip around your waist tightened and she rubbed her nose into the side of your head. "You're mine now. And if I have any say in it- which I do, for the record- you'll live and die my daughter. Not hers."
You couldn't help but giggle as she hugged you so tightly you were lifted slightly off the ground. You spun around as soon as you could get your footing, and she hoisted you onto the countertop, standing in between your knees.
"If your predecessor is to be believed, it's rotten work, having me as a daughter," you said half winkingly.
"I think I can handle it," she winked back with a smirk. "I think I'd like to handle it." She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "And, if it makes you feel any better, your eyes are darker than hers. Her were more hazel-y. Yours are that deep, dark brown that reflect light like stars in a black sky. And you just look⊠softer. Kinder. Like a puppy I want to take home and curl up on the couch with."
"You mean you never got the urge to cozy up with my mother?" you teased.
Wanda chuckled and shook her head. "Nope. Never."
You took a deep breath in, still a little shaky from crying, and leaned forward to rest your head on her chest. She cradled you there, resting her own head on top of yours. You were both silent for a long moment before you spoke up again.
"If you could've chosen who your kid was gonna be, would you have picked me?" you asked.
"I did get to choose who my kid was gonna be," she answered. "And I've never regretted it for a second. In fact, I hope I'm your mama in every universe and in every lifetime. Because every time I get to choose, it's gonna be you."
A/N: I had to get a sort of unplanned Ketamine treatment (medical, not recreational) and I very much wanted my mama. So, as usual, I wrote this little self-indulgent blurb as a gift and free therapy to myself after my scary medical treatment. It touches on two of my favorite maternal fantasies: someone making up the couch as a bed for me while I'm not feeling well, and someone listening to me talk about things they 100% do not care about just for the simple fact that I enjoy them đ
-------------------------------------------
You woke up hazy and nauseous, so disoriented and confused despite being in your own bed. You tried to sit up, but your head was spinning. Up and down had no meaning when you seem to be floating in all directions no matter how or if you moved.
"Mama!" you cried out, desperate for another person to ground you to the reality you were rapidly spiraling away from.
You could only assume she was waiting on your call, because she was at your door in less than 10 seconds. The mattress dipped under her weight as she sat down, running her cool hand across your sweaty forehead.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," she whispered. âHow are you feeling?â
âI donât feel good, mama,â you whined, leaning into her cold hand. You werenât necessarily hot, but you were absolutely drenched in sweat. âMy stomach hurts and my head feels⊠my head feels fuzzy.â
Wanda helped you sit up and pressed a cold glass of water to your lip. âOh, Iâm sorry baby. Here. This will help your tummy feel better. Slow sips.â She set a small white pill on your tongue, helping you lift the cup the drink. As you flexed your arm, you noticed a cotton ball taped to the crook of your elbow. It was like the one they put on you at the doctor's office after drawing blood, but you had no memory of getting your blood drawn.
âMama? Why is my arm sticky,â you asked, starting to try and peel the tape and cotton away.
She stilled your hand. âHoney, thatâs where they gave you the special medicine. Remember?â She wiped away the stray hair that stuck to your forehead, trying to evoke the memory from earlier that day. She had taken you to the infusion center to get your ketamine treatment after your psychiatrist had recommended it to get you out of a particular rough patch you'd been going through recently.
You furrowed your brow, trying to focus on the last thing you remembered before waking up, but your head was too hazy. It felt impossible to even try thinking. You couldnât recall receiving a special medicine, or anything at all that happened before you fell asleep, for that matter.
Tears welled up in your eyes. You felt lost and scared, like a child alone in a grocery store. It was a primal sort of fear; one that warned you of your own vulnerability. Your mind was like an exposed nerve: completely unprotected and unable to defend itself.
âI-I donât rememberâŠâ you cried, reaching out for Wanda as if she were a life raft in the middle of an ocean. It felt like you were drowning and she was the only thing that could save you.
âItâs okay. Itâs okay,â she soothed, pulling you into her arms. She sighed. This was far from the first time sheâd dealt with this reaction to your treatment, but it seemed to have really muddled your mind this time around. She couldnât even begin to imagine how scared and out of control you must feel. âIâve got you. You donât have to remember, honey. Mama will remember for you, okay? Your head will clear up soon. I promise.â
âI donât know whatâs going on!â You confessed with a broken sob. âWhy canât I remember?â
âThe medicine does that, sweetheart,â she explained. âIt makes your brain feel silly and weird for a little bit, and then it makes you feel better than before. Itâs scary now, I know. But I promise you itâs gonna feel so much better later, okay?â
You curled into her chest, balling her shirt up in hand. âOkay.â
She rocked you back and forth, doing whatever she could to lessen the fear and confusion. âI know it's scary, angel, but Iâm not gonna let anything bad happen to you,â she promised, kissing the crown of your head. âYouâre my special little girl. Iâm gonna keep you safe.â
When your cries turned into sniffles, Wanda threw your arms over her shoulders and adjusted your position so she could pick you up. She kissed your temple. âIâve got a nice little nest for you set up in the living room, and weâll set up the YouTube on the TV. We can watch whatever you want.â
âWhatever I want?â You sniffled, limply resting your head on her shoulder.
âWhatever you want,â she reassured, sealing her words with a kiss to the temple.
She laid you down on the couch, which she had made up into a bed with fresh sheets and the softest blankets in the house. She sat behind you, bracing your hips with her legs on either side and drawing your back to her chest.
âCan we watch the trains?â Despite how upset you were, your voice had a lilt of hopefulness. Your interest in public transit systems was a hard sell on most days.
Wanda chuckled. âOf course we can watch the trains, angel.â She knew you had always had a fascination for trains and public transportation. She never understood it, but you like to watch movie length videos of trains just⊠moving. She couldnât imagine a less interesting way to spend an hour. All of your favorite trains were underground, so there wasnât even a particular scenic aspect to it. But if it made you happy, she would watch train videos all day. She clicked over to your favorite channel. âWhich one do you wanna watch?â
âThe A-line. In New York, please,â you requested, not even having to think about it.
Wanda smiled and squeezed your knee. âI shouldâve known. That one is your favorite, isnât it?â
You nodded and sniffled again. âIt runs from Rockaway Beach all the way up to Inwood in Upper Manhattan.â
âWoah, thatâs almost the whole city,â she gasped, pretending to be interested. Neither of you were from New York City, nor did you visit particularly often, so your words meant nothing to her.
You nodded again. âItâs the one of the only routes to cross over Jamaica Bay. It goes through all the boroughs except for the Bronx. And Staten Island, but that has its own separate route.â
âIt does?â She asked, seeing that the train talk was calming you down. She hoped if she could get you to keep talking, you might forget about your swimming mind. Of course, even in its most fragile state, your brain could still recall all the details of the New York Subway system. âWhich one is it in now?â She pointed towards the tv, which was playing a ride along from the perspective of the front window.
âQueens,â you answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. âItâs starts in Queens, then goes down to Brooklyn. Then it crosses the East River into Lower Manhattan, and it zigzags up to the Harlem River.â
âDoes it pass through Grand Central Station?â
You shook your head. âGrand Central actually doesnât have that many lines. It only has 5. Itâs not even the busiest terminal, Times Square is. It has over twice as many lines. The A does go through that one.â
Wanda nodded along as you rambled. She listened to you talk about routes to major landmarks, your favorite terminals, how the color coding worked, and which lines closed at night and on the weekends.
You barely made it halfway through the video before your eyelids started to droop again. You were always exhausted the day of your treatment. She knew sleep would mend your brain.
In a few hours, you would wake up again, confused and disoriented all over again. And again, Wanda would rush to your aid, holding you and letting you talk about trains until the fear went away.
She would do it again and again and as many times as she had to. When your mind was frail and you were out of control, she would there to guide and protect you.
Wanda was lying back on the couch, reading, when you shuffled into the living room, a blanket thrown over your head and shoulders like a cloak. You crawled on top of her, stretching out over her legs. The hem of her baggy sweater rode up, leaving you the perfect opportunity to nudge it up further until you could rest your head on her bare stomach.
She chuckled softly. âAnd what do you think youâre doing?â She asked playfully, reaching down to stroke your hair. She had always been self conscious of the way her body looked after having children. Her stomach was left stretched and wrinkled, sagging grotesquely around her belly button. Her hips and side were littered with stretch marks that folded in on themselves when she sat down. She did her best to cover herself up with shapewear or baggy clothes, but you always seemed determined to thwart her plans.
âMmm,â you hummed delightfully, nuzzling into the soft skin, âitâs tummy time.â
Wanda couldnât help but smile. âLike a baby, huh? You still learning how to hold your head up on your own, hun?â
You nodded, burying your face further into her plush stomach. âMhm. Canât do it. âs impossible,â you mumbled, putting up a fake struggle to try and lift your head. âI gotta stay right here.â
She chuckled again and you could feel the vibration against your ear. âOkay, honey. You can stay right there.â She carded her fingers through your hair, watching you with a soft smile. You look so happy, so content. It was like watching a little cherub snuggle up to a cloud. Sometimes, the way you looked at her, the way you touched her, almost made her forget why she hated this part of herself at all. I was one thing for you to tell her she was beautiful, but this was different. There was no faking this kind of admiration. Your love and joy were tangible. There was truly nowhere in the world youâd rather be.
All the time she spent wishing her body looked a different way suddenly felt foolish. How could she want anything other than this? How could she ever dream of changing something that made you so happy?
You settled between her legs and wrapped your arms around one of her thighs. She watched as you tried to look up at her with glassy eyes, but you couldnât seem to keep them from rolling back in your head. Your entire body went slack with relaxation.
âSquishy mama bellies make perfect nests for little birds, donât they?â she whispered, rubbing the sensitive spot on the back of your head.
You nodded, rubbing your cheek against her navel. âThe best nest in the world. The first one to ever keep me safe.â
Wanda was lying back on the couch, reading, when you shuffled into the living room, a blanket thrown over your head and shoulders like a cloak. You crawled on top of her, stretching out over her legs. The hem of her baggy sweater rode up, leaving you the perfect opportunity to nudge it up further until you could rest your head on her bare stomach.
She chuckled softly. âAnd what do you think youâre doing?â She asked playfully, reaching down to stroke your hair. She had always been self conscious of the way her body looked after having children. Her stomach was left stretched and wrinkled, sagging grotesquely around her belly button. Her hips and side were littered with stretch marks that folded in on themselves when she sat down. She did her best to cover herself up with shapewear or baggy clothes, but you always seemed determined to thwart her plans.
âMmm,â you hummed delightfully, nuzzling into the soft skin, âitâs tummy time.â
Wanda couldnât help but smile. âLike a baby, huh? You still learning how to hold your head up on your own, hun?â
You nodded, burying your face further into her plush stomach. âMhm. Canât do it. âs impossible,â you mumbled, putting up a fake struggle to try and lift your head. âI gotta stay right here.â
She chuckled again and you could feel the vibration against your ear. âOkay, honey. You can stay right there.â She carded her fingers through your hair, watching you with a soft smile. You look so happy, so content. It was like watching a little cherub snuggle up to a cloud. Sometimes, the way you looked at her, the way you touched her, almost made her forget why she hated this part of herself at all. I was one thing for you to tell her she was beautiful, but this was different. There was no faking this kind of admiration. Your love and joy were tangible. There was truly nowhere in the world youâd rather be.
All the time she spent wishing her body looked a different way suddenly felt foolish. How could she want anything other than this? How could she ever dream of changing something that made you so happy?
You settled between her legs and wrapped your arms around one of her thighs. She watched as you tried to look up at her with glassy eyes, but you couldnât seem to keep them from rolling back in your head. Your entire body went slack with relaxation.
âSquishy mama bellies make perfect nests for little birds, donât they?â she whispered, rubbing the sensitive spot on the back of your head.
You nodded, rubbing your cheek against her navel. âThe best nest in the world. The first one to ever keep me safe.â
Summary: Your absence has left a cold spot in the Maximoff-Romanov household. Wanda and Natasha have to decide whether itâs time for something new.
Word Count: ~2k
A/N: This isnât as long as I hoped itâd be, and it kind of fell short of my expectations. But, it took me a month to write and I didnât want to leave you all on a cliffhanger for any longer. I hope you all enjoy!
Wanda sat on the back porch in Natasha's thick, fuzzy robe, drinking her morning coffee. Alone. She leaned over the railing, watching the morning fog float peacefully over the dewy grass.Â
It was the day after Thanksgiving, and it was beginning to get really cold in New Jersey. Too cold to be out on the porch before the sunrise. At least, thatâs what Natasha told her as she slowly crept up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist.Â
Wanda smiled, reaching back to cup the side of Natashaâs head as it rested on her shoulder. âYouâre up early,â she noted. Natasha was almost never up before the sun. Especially on days like today when she didnât have to work.
âThe bed was cold without you,â the older woman lied, kissing Wandaâs cheek.Â
âMmm,â Wanda hummed knowingly, âYouâre a liar. Youâre lucky you're pretty.â She turned around in her wifeâs arms, pulling her into a kiss.Â
Natashaâs tongue sleepily dragged over Wandaâs bottom lip as she sucked it into her mouth. She reached down to below the younger womanâs waist, picking her up and lifting her onto the railing. Wandaâs hand shot out to catch herself, knocking over her coffee and sending it tumbling onto the wooden deck.Â
Natasha gasped, pulling back and gently lowering Wanda back to the ground. âAre you okay?â
Wanda nodded. âIâm alright. What about you? I didnât get any on you, did I?â
Natasha shook her head looking down at the mess of steaming coffee and shattered mug.Â
âOh noâŠâ Wanda whined, falling to her knees and picking up the largest shard of glass. It was a mug you had gotten after catching her humming âYou Are My Sunshineâ one too many mornings when she thought you were still sleeping. She held up the yellow handle and turned it to reveal half of a sun and the letters âMY INEâ. Everything else was in smaller shards scattered across the wood of the deck. She swallowed, trying not to let Natasha see the tears building at the corners of her eyes.
Natasha gently took the piece of glass from her, recognizing the mug immediately. She frowned. The hole your absence had left in their life was no secret to anyone, but she knew Wanda was taking it the hardest. They hadnât spoken about it yet, despite you having left a week ago. Itâs not like Natasha was trying to keep any secrets from her wife, nor did she suspect Wanda was trying to keep anything from her. But still, the subject remained untouched. It was as if they both knew once they opened the conversation, theyâd never be able to close it again.Â
Wanda pulled herself to her feet, resting her elbows on the railing and leaning forward. Natasha approached her wife from behind, wrapping her arms around her waist, more gently this time. She was silent for a long moment, soothingly swaying both of them back and forth.
She looked at the broken mug and sighed. She couldnât ignore this any longer. It was time they finally talked.
When she broke the silence, her voice was quiet and unreadable. âDo you love her?âÂ
âOf course I love her,â Wanda answered immediately. âSheâs our friend, Nat.â
âWanda,â Natasha started again, this time taking on a more serious tone. She refused to dance around this conversation any longer. She had to know: even if knowing would change everything. âDo you love her? As something⊠more than a friend?â
Wanda froze, turning around in her wifeâs arms. She opened her mouth a few times before any words came out. âI love you,â she answered evasively.
âThatâs not what I asked,â Natasha whispered, pressing their foreheads together. She was not angry, but she wasnât going to let Wanda wiggle her way out of this. âDo you love her, Wanda?â
âIâŠâ Wanda tried to defend herself, but she couldnât bring herself to deny the insinuation outright. âI donât know.â Her voice was shaking.
Natasha hardened herself, keeping her voice calm and steady. âWhat are you afraid of?â
Wanda shook her head, turning away and trying to hide her face. She was crying harder now, harder than she wanted Natasha to see. Her hands clutched the railing until the wood threatened to splinter her hands.
Natasha gently guided her gaze back to her own face. âHey,â she soothed, âis it me? Are you afraid Iâm going to be angry?â She was still calm and unreadable, but loving and non-judgmental all the same.
âI donât knowâŠâ Wanda cried, voice breaking. âIâm afraid⊠Iâm afraid everything is going to change. I love you, Natalia. I love our life together. I don't want to mess it up. Not even for-" She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. She wasn't confident enough in her own words.
"WandaâŠ" Natasha said quietly, finally allowing some of her own want to slip into her voice, "we have been together for years. We have spent over a decade building something so strong, and beautiful, and unshakeable.â She removed Wandaâs hands from the rail, taking them into her own. âMaybe it's time. Maybe it's time to open our hearts up to something new. To someone new." She intertwined their fingers, holding them to her chest. âI think I want this Wanda. And I think you do too.â
Wanda's breathe caught. She held on tight to her wife, like she would fly away if she let go. "You mean youâŠ" she started with a glimmer of hope, but it faded as quickly as it appeared. She wiggled out of Natasha's grip and leaned over the railing again. "No. No, there's too many reasons this can't work."
"Try me," Natasha countered, spinning towards her wife again. They were working this out here and now, no matter how much Wanda tried to wriggle out of it.
Wanda closed her eyes and sighed. "We're old, Natasha."
Natasha couldnât help herself. She broke out into a laugh.
"I'm serious!" Wanda snapped, spinning around. "We're not children anymore. We can't just go around having spontaneous rendezvouses with 21 year olds! I mean it's been, what, a decade and a half since either of us have been on a first date. I mean, what do we even do with a 21 year old?"
Natasha only laughed harder, having to hold herself up against the rail.
Wanda covered her face with her hands. "Nat we're gonna have to learn how to use Snapchat."
"You're so dramatic," Natasha finally said, getting a hold of her laughter. "You act like we're cougars trying to pick up a cute young stranger from across the bar. We already know her. She's our friend. We've been doing this for months. Also, for what it's worth, she was the one who started this. We don't have to woo her, she's already been wooed."
Wanda rolled her head back with exasperation. "You're incorrigible."
"And youâre dodging my questions. That canât seriously be what this is all about," Natasha retorted. "She wants us and we want her back. I don't understand why we can't just try it out."
"Because she's a person, Natasha! She's not just a thing we can experiment with," Wanda snapped. She sighed, realizing Natasha had struck a nerve she didnât know existed. âI donât ever want her to feel like a third thing that weâre just using because⊠I donât know. Weâre bored? She deserves someone who is wholly committed to her. I just feel like having her as our lover would do her a disservice. I donât want her to feel like an add-on. I want her to truly feel a part of something.â
"So, we make her a part of this. I think if anything youâre doing her a disservice in thinking you can decide whatâs best for her. Why not let her make that decision herself? She knows what this is, Wands. She knows she canât start on an equal footing because weâve known her for four months and each other for 15 years. And if sheâs not okay she wonât subject herself to it. But I donât think itâs fair to her to make that call for her," Natasha explained calmly. "And, for the record, I don't think it's an insane notion to think this could actually work."
Wanda sighed with resignation. It was hard for her to keep arguing against something she wanted so completely. Every reason she could come up with as to why it wouldn't work was quickly destroyed by how badly she wanted it to. Besides, it wasn't like leaving you to believe your attraction was unrequited was in any way a safer option. There was little point in trying to spare your feelings by rejecting you outright when they both genuinely wanted you.
"Okay," Wanda finally agreed. "But we can't go into this without a plan. It won't serve any of us to pretend like this is just like any other relationship."
"I agree," Natasha said with a satisfied grin. "But, I don't think that's a plan we can make on our own."
Wanda nodded and took a deep breath in. "Alright. So⊠how do we do this?"
Natasha smirked impishly. "Snapchat?"
Wanda groaned and pushed Natasha towards the door. "Shut up and go inside before I decide to steal her for myself and leave you in the dust."
***********
Had you been in the living room with them that afternoon, they never would have heard the end of it. They sat on the couch with Wanda legs thrown haphazardly over Natasha's. They each had their phones in their hands, typing furiously into their notes app, only to then delete what they were typing and start over.
"Okay, how is this," Wanda started. "Hey Y/N! I know you're taking some time to yourself, and you didn't want us to reach out quite yet, but Natasha and I have been talking, and we'd really like to get dinner to discuss something with you in the coming week."
"First of all," Natasha said, "that's like a quadrupedal run-on sentence. Second of all, that sounds like you're looking to end a relationship, not start one."
Wanda groaned. "Okay, then. What are you working on over there?"
Natasha cleared her throat. "Hey kid, Wanda and I were hoping to chat sometime this week if you're feeling up to it."
"If we're gonna start dating her, you've gotta stop calling her kid," Wanda corrected.
"What do I call her then?"
"Literally anything else will do."
"Dude?"
"I take it back. Just call her her name."
"Okay okay," Natasha conceded. "Hey Y/N, Wanda and I were hoping to chat sometime this week if you're feeling up to it."
"And then add something in there about how we miss her and we hope she is doing well," Wanda added.
"We⊠miss⊠youâŠ" Natasha narrated as she typed. "We⊠hope⊠you⊠are⊠doing⊠well."
They looked the text over again and again, tweaking it until it was acceptable to both of them. When they finally sent it, both of their hearts were racing a mile a minute.
They spent the rest of the afternoon trying to do everything in their power to distract themselves. Wanda did the leftover thanksgiving dishes. She had simply been too upset to do them yesterday, so they were abandoned in the sink for another time. Natasha opted for a distracting workout, drowning out her thoughts with loud music and a few miles on the treadmill.
Still, every buzz of their phone sent them both scrambling. A phone call from the bank nearly sent Wanda's phone into the soapy dishwater, and a text message from the pharmacy nearly caused Natasha to fall off the treadmill.
At the end of the day, after hours of on edge waiting, they both collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.
"I forgot what this felt like," Natasha sighed, turning on her pillow to face her wife.
Wanda smiled back at her. "Did you wait for texts from me like this?"
Natasha chuckled. "Yeah. Clint swore I was an occupational hazard. He made me lock up my phone before we went out on jobs together. Otherwise I got too distracted. What about you? Did you wait by the phone for me?"
"I never had to," Wanda teased. "You never made me wait. You were hopelessly in love with me from day one."
Natasha laughed, scooting over in the bed to wrap her arms around her wife. "Some things never change."
Wanda giggled and gave her a quick peck on the lips before reaching over to turn out the lights. "Goodnight, my love. Try to get some rest."
Natasha kissed her shoulder blade, pulling her close until her back was flush with her chest. "Goodnight. I love you."
Just before they faded off to sleep, their phones both buzzed simultaneously. They bolted upright, scrambling around in the sheets to find them.
Summary: After a long day, Wanda has to calm you down using some unconventional methods.
Word Count: ~1.2k
CW: discussions of pregnancy?, womb fixation, Fruedian stuff, but it's all SFW
A/N: I don't know if this is anything, but I've had a shit day. I don't know if a womb fixation is a thing, but I'm making it one. Anyway, if anyone has a vacant womb I can curl up in for the next 3-5 days, give me a call.
Wanda had gotten very good at knowing all of your tells: the way your hands trembled when you were hungry, how your gate changed just a little when you hadnât gotten enough sleep, your nervous habit of whistling when your mind was racing with worries. Tonight, however, she didnât even need her mama instincts to tell her you were upset.Â
You shuffled into the living room in one of her hoodies. It was massive on you, trailing down your thighs so far the pajamas shorts you wore underneath werenât visible. You chewed anxiously on one of the too-long-sleeves, fraying the cuffs. Wanda had tried to break the habit several times, especially given your affinity for stealing her clothes, but eventually sheâd just surrendered to the fate of wearing jackets with chewed sleeves.Â
âBaby,â she cooed sympathically. âWhatâs wrong? Come here, pumpkin. Tell mama whatâs got you all worked up.â She tapped her thighs, ushering you gently onto her lap.Â
You curled up against her immediately, tucking your knees to your chest and resting your head on her shoulder. Wanda gasped in surprise when your free hand found its way under the hem of her shirt and rested on her lower stomach. Your palm slid across her bare skin, to her hip, then traced its way back to her belly button. You silently caressed the skin there until she stopped you, stilling your hand with her own.Â
She had known about this little habit of yours for a long time now. It was a fixation of sorts that seemed to come in waves: youâd go months without thinking about it, and then something would happen and suddenly you couldnât keep away. Whether she was cooking, sitting on the couch, or even sleeping, your hands and eyes would always find their way right back to this specific spot right below her belly button, where stretch marks spanned from hip to hip after carrying her twins.Â
After carrying her twins. Not you.Â
âSweetheart,â she whispered, already preparing to defend whatever nonsense was about to spew from your mouth about how youâd never really be hers.Â
You finally pulled the sleeve youâd been chewing on from your mouth. She knew what you were going to say before you even opened her mouth, but the quiet, broken words never failed to pierce her heart regardless.Â
âItâs not fair.â
She swallowed, tucking your head under her chin and rubbing your back through the thick material of the hoodie. âI know, baby,â she admitted. âI know itâs not.â
âI never got to be inside you,â you said. âI never got to be part of you. I was never connected to you. I was never your-â
âDonât.â Wanda interrupted, firmly, but not unkindly. She would let you have your mourning. She would comfort you through each broken explanation of the indescribable longing in your heart. But she would not tolerate any implication that you were any less hers.Â
You stiffened and pulled your hand from her stomach, instead grabbing her shirt in a tight fist. âIâm sorry,â you sniffed.Â
She kissed the crown of your head. âItâs okay, darling,â she reassured. âI just need you to know that you have more of my heart than anyone else in the world. And nothing can change that. I love you so much.â
You nodded against her chest. âI know. I justâŠâ you sniffled again, âI wish I were made of love, is all.â
You laid down on her lap, shifting your position so you were pressed up against her stomach in a tight ball. You grabbed a throw blanket from the couch and tossed it over your head.Â
âMaybe we can pretend for a little bit,â you proposed quietly, muffled slightly by the blanket. âThat Iâm in your belly and⊠and you havenât met me yet but youâre excited to. And you already love me so much.â You poked your head out of the blanket to look up at her. âOr we donât have to⊠if itâs stupid.â
Wanda froze for a moment, but then a soft, sad smile spread across her face. It was a silly request, really. Nothing she said could change what actually happened. It would be nothing more than a fairytale. And yet, when your big eyes peered up into hers, she couldnât bring herself to deny you. She couldnât turn back the clock, but she could craft a narrative for you to carry with you. She pulled the blanket down over your head again, cocooning you against her.Â
âWe decided to wait, your father and I, to find out whether youâre a boy or girl,â she started, rubbing over the thick blanket in slow, soothing circles. âYour father thinks Iâm crazy, because I tell everyone I already know youâre gonna be my little girl. I can just feel it.â
She shifted slightly, laying down on the couch so you could lay on her stomach. âI call you my rolly polly because you keep me up at night with all your rolling. The only thing that calms you down is my singing. It drives your dad crazy.â
âYou sing to me?â You asked in a quiet, broken voice.Â
âOf course I sing to you, angel,â she reassured. âI sing⊠lullabies mostly. But what seems to calm you down the most is my operatic cover of âThe Middleâ by Jimmy Eat World.â
You giggled and the vibrations spread across her whole chest, warming her from the inside out. She pulled you closer. âIâm craving⊠ice cream and salt. Not together. Most of the time. I already know youâre a sweet tooth and I already canât deny you a damn thing.â
She sits in silence for a minute, trying to gauge your reaction under the thick blanket. Then thereâs a sniffle and another whispered question. âAnd⊠and youâre excited, right? This is something you wanted to happen.â
âOh baby, I can hardly wait.â She doesnât even need a moment to think about her answer. âIâve taken up crochet and Iâve already made you a blanket and some little hats. Out of the softest yarn I could find. Only the best for my baby girl.â
âAnd then- when I came out- you werenât disappointed were you?â You asked, voice trembling again.Â
âDisappointed? Oh heavens no,â she nearly gasped. âThe moment they laid you on my chest I knew you were better than I couldâve ever imagined. You were perfect. You are perfect. My angel. My miracle. My special girl. I have never been so happy to be anything as I am to be your mama.â
You poked your head out from under the blanket and uncurled yourself from your ball, resting your head on her chest. You could feel her heartbeat and the vibrations of her humming in her ribcage, soothing and melting away the last of your nerves. She could feel your muscles relax as she ran her nails up and down. She craned her neck upwards to kiss your head. âRest, my love,â she whispered. âIâve got you.â
You whined and buried your face in her chest. You could hardly keep your eyes open. She took your hand in hers and brought it to her collarbone, splaying your fingers out against the skin there.
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