Blurberries

. ⋆ ✩° | 𝑺𝒉𝒆/𝒉𝒆𝒓 • bi | 20’s |really in love with Wanda Maximoff & an extremely soft spot for Nat | reader of fics |˚✧ ﾟ. ⋆ 18+ minors dni

[khaoala]

Dr. Fahalada Thananusak, dermatologist, owner of the hospital, realizing that:

She's in an unfamiliar room.

She's in bed with another woman.

The said woman is her ex who broke her heart and sent her into a depressive episode.

They had sex.

LINGLING SIRILAK as FAHLADA THANANUSAK and ORM KORNNAPHAT as EARN SANITHADA episode 4 of THE SECRET OF US

[snowseasonss]

Breach of Contract

wandanat x f!reader

The employee handbook didn’t cover the way Wanda looks at you when you’re on your knees scrubbing the floor, or the way Natasha’s fingers feel when she tangles them in your hair to tilt your head back. You were hired to be their domestic chatelaine, but the professional lines didn't just blur. They dissolved entirely the moment the married couple decided that the only thing missing from their perfect home was you.

details: nasty smut (poly), porn w/ some plot, hurt/comfort, employee/employer to complex? to partners/dating/married, switch/gentle strict dom!wanda, top/sharp quiet dom!natasha, bottom/sub!reader, personal cook/maid!reader, rich/well off couple!wandanat, oral/fingering/strap in v, (kinks such as... hair pulling, spit, dom/sub, impact play, praise, ownership, overstimulation)

The kitchen is steeped in the soft amber glow of golden hour, sunlight spilling lazily across the countertops and catching on the edges of polished glass. The open window lets in a gentle breeze, just enough to stir the curtains into a slow, rhythmic sway. It’s peaceful—quiet in a way that makes the clink of utensils and the low hum of the oven feel almost comforting.

You’d finished your usual list earlier than expected today. With time to spare, you decided to start dinner—something more involved than usual, a recipe that required patience and care. The kind of meal that fills a home not just with aroma, but with warmth.

It’s been about a year since you started working here, and you’ve settled into the rhythm of it all with ease. Wanda can be particular—precise in a way that keeps everything running just so—but never unkind. And Natasha balances her out effortlessly. Together, they’ve made this place feel less like a job and more like somewhere you belong. The small home they’ve provided nearby only adds to that sense of comfort.

You’re pulling the dish from the oven, the rich scent of slow-cooked herbs and roasted vegetables (or perhaps a carefully layered lasagna, bubbling at the edges) filling the air, when you hear the front door open.

Voices follow. Familiar, welcome. A small smile tugs at your lips as you set the dish down carefully.

“We’re back,” Natasha calls, her tone lighter than usual, travel always seems to wear on her.

Wanda, however, makes a beeline straight for the kitchen, drawn in by the scent before anything else. She pauses in the doorway, breathing it in, her expression softening.

“What smells so good…?”

You glance over your shoulder, slipping off the oven mitts. “It’s a slow-baked recipe—took most of the afternoon,” you say with a small, proud smile. “Figured I’d make something special. Welcome back.”

Natasha appears behind her, resting a hand lightly on Wanda’s arm, a knowing look in her eyes. “Tempting,” she says, “but we should probably get out of these airport clothes first.”

Wanda hesitates for just a second longer, clearly reluctant to leave the kitchen, before allowing herself to be guided away. You chuckle softly, turning back to the counter to finish plating.

“I’ll have everything ready when you’re done,” you call after them.

The dining room is already set. Candles waiting to be lit, plates placed just so.

Their footsteps return not long after, quieter now. Changed, settled, the fatigue of travel softened into something more relaxed. Wanda lingers near the doorway again, though this time she leans lightly against the frame, arms crossed, watching as you finish up the last touches.

Dinner passes easily. They ask about the house, about anything that might have come up in their absence. It’s brief, casual—more habit than concern—and you reassure them everything’s been smooth. No issues, no surprises.

Wanda hums in quiet approval, exchanging a glance with Natasha before looking back at you. “We appreciate you,” she says simply, but sincerely.

Natasha offers a small, warm smile. “You’ve done more than enough. Go ahead and call it a night.”

You nod, returning the smile. “Enjoy dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They thank you again as you step away, settling in at the table just as you disappear back into the kitchen. The routine comes naturally now—plates rinsed, dishes loaded carefully into the dishwasher, counters wiped down until they gleam faintly under the soft overhead light. The house quiets again, save for the low murmur of their conversation drifting faintly from the living room.

By the time you’re done, the last of the sunlight has faded, leaving behind a gentle dusk. You grab your things, slipping out the door with a quiet ease, the cool evening air greeting you as you step outside. The short walk to your place feels familiar, almost grounding after a full day.

The ocean breeze greets you the moment you step outside, cool and laced with salt, drifting up from the waves crashing steadily against the rocks below the cliffside mansion; you take your time walking the familiar path to your small home tucked along the ledge, letting your gaze wander out over the endless stretch of darkening water as the last of the sunlight fades into soft blues and grays, and for a moment you simply pause, breathing it in, enjoying the quiet and the view that never quite gets old, before finally heading inside, closing the door behind you, and settling in for the night.

It seems as if something had shifted during their trip, you notice it before you can quite name it.

They’ve always been kind. From the awkward, careful beginnings when you first started working for them, to the easy rhythm you’ve settled into now, there’s always been warmth there. Gentleness. Familiarity that never crossed a line.

But something is different. You’re in the living room, cloth in hand, carefully wiping down the edge of the TV table, more out of habit than necessity.

Wanda is there too. She’s settled into one of the armchairs with a glass of wine, posture relaxed, but not absent. She isn’t doing anything obvious. Just watching. Or at least, it feels like watching.

At first, you try to ignore it. Focus on the surface in front of you. The grain of the wood. The steady motion of your hand.

But you feel it anyway.

“We don’t know too much about your life outside of here, do we?” Wanda asks, her voice smooth as velvet, casual on the surface in a way that doesn’t quite match the weight of her attention.

She tilts the glass toward herself and takes a slow sip of wine, watching you over the rim. Patient, unhurried, like she’s not expecting an answer so much as a reaction.

You pause.

“Um…” Your hand stills briefly against the cloth before you force it to keep moving. “I guess not, no.”

There’s a small, thoughtful hum from her. Soft, almost approving, though it’s hard to tell exactly why.

“I suppose that’s partly my fault,” she says after a beat, as if considering it for the first time in that moment. “We do tend to keep things… focused here.”

Wanda leans back slightly in the chair, glass resting loosely in her hand.

“You’ve been with us a while now,” she adds, softer. “It’s strange how little we know about you.”

A pause.

Then, lighter. Carefully so, like she’s stepping around something:

Wanda hums softly at that, the sound low and thoughtful as she turns the glass slightly in her hand. The last of the light shifts across the room while she watches you a moment longer, as if weighing something quietly in her mind.

“Is it alright if I ask you a couple of questions then?”

The request is gentle. Polite, even. Still firmly within the boundaries of employer and employee,but there’s something in the way she asks that makes it feel more personal than procedural.

You hesitate just briefly before nodding.

“Yeah… that’s fine.”

“Wonderful,” she says simply.

And just like that, the conversation continues.

At first, the questions are harmless enough, small things, things that could pass as curiosity after a year of shared space. Your routines. What you like to cook when you’re on your own. How you found your way into this work. Wanda listens to every answer with an unusual kind of attention, like she’s not just hearing you, but remembering you.

Time slips in quiet increments.

The sun lowers further, golden light fading into softer tones as your conversation carries, the house shifting gradually toward evening. Somewhere along the way, her wine glass empties, left resting on the arm of the chair as she forgets to refill it or even notice.

It was the most tame of what was to come. Of how quietly, almost imperceptibly, things would begin to shift.

A couple of days later, the house has settled back into its usual rhythm. The library is warm and dimly lit, the kind of space that feels even quieter after a long day—books lined in perfect order, the faint scent of paper and polished wood in the air.

Wanda and Natasha are there after work, speaking in low tones, their presence relaxed in that familiar way that only comes after years of sharing space. You pass through briefly, intending only to retrieve something you left behind.

You barely make it a few steps inside when Wanda’s attention shifts toward you.

“I showed Natasha some of your artwork,” she says gently, as if continuing a thought rather than introducing a new one. Her gaze flicks briefly to her wife, then back to you. “From what you shared with me last night… if that’s alright.”

“Oh,” you blink slightly, caught off guard but not uncomfortable. “That’s… quite alright.”

Natasha looks at you then.

“They were beautiful,” she says simply, no hesitation in her voice. A pause. “Did you paint them while we were gone last week?”

You nod, still a little unsure where this is going. “Yes. I had extra time… not as much to clean.”

A faint hint of amusement passes through Natasha’s expression at that, though it never fully forms into a smile.

“Right,” she replies, tone even, thoughtful. Then, after a beat: “Well… we were thinking we’d like to put your artwork in a showing next week.”

That lands differently.

You stop for a second, processing it. “What…? I— that’s very kind, I…”

Wanda watches your reaction carefully, something warm in her expression that isn’t quite pride, but close.

“It’s very beautiful,” she says softly. “It deserves to be seen.”

Natasha gives a small, confirming nod beside her.

Your surprise eases into something quieter—something touched, almost disbelieving. “I’d love to,” you say finally.

And for a moment, the conversation pauses there—not ending, but settling into something that feels a little more deliberate than before.

The museum is everything you expected it to be, and a little more overwhelming than you care to admit.

High ceilings, polished marble floors, and soft, controlled lighting that makes every piece of art feel curated to perfection. People move through the space in quiet clusters, dressed with the kind of ease that comes from never needing to think too much about where they are or why they belong there.

You stand near your work, hands loosely at your sides, trying not to look as out of place as you feel. The painting is hung beautifully—better than you’ve ever seen it displayed, but your attention keeps drifting to everything else instead of it.

A few guests pass by, offering polite nods or brief comments, but it all feels slightly distant, like you’re watching it happen rather than part of it. Then you see them.

The moment your eyes meet theirs, something in your shoulders loosens without permission. Wanda notices first, her expression softening as she approaches.

“There you are,” she says gently, as if you’d only been briefly misplaced rather than standing in the middle of a formal exhibition.

Natasha follows beside her, gaze briefly flicking to your work before returning to you. “How are you holding up?”

It’s a simple question, but it lands with more weight than it should here.

You manage a small breath of a laugh. “Alright,” you say honestly.

Wanda hums, understanding immediately.

Natasha’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer before she gives a slight nod. “You did well.”

There’s a pause. Not awkward, but fuller than before.

And then you notice it. Wanda steps slightly closer than she usually would in public. Not enough to be obvious to anyone else, but enough that you feel it. Natasha’s hand briefly touches your arm as she adjusts her position beside you, guiding you gently through the flow of passing guests as they speak.

It isn’t dramatic. Nothing about it is. But it’s different.

As the conversation continues, small comments about the turnout, a few quiet remarks about the piece. You become aware of it in fragments: Wanda’s attention resting on you a little longer than necessary, Natasha’s hand lingering just a second too long before letting go.

By the time they eventually guide you away from the painting to greet someone else, you realize the shift isn’t something you can point to clearly.

Their touches, once fleeting, have begun to carry intention.

Their glances, once brief and forgettable, now tend to linger just a little too long.

Even now, kneeling on the floor with a cloth in hand, wiping a section of tile that doesn’t really need attention, you feel it. The quiet weight of their presence behind you, the way you feel their gaze drift to areas they maybe shouldn't.

You keep your focus down, continuing as if nothing has changed, as if you haven’t been carrying this awareness with you for weeks. You’ve been ignoring it, even as it follows you into the night and sits restless in your chest when everything else is still.

A month passes like that. Supporting your art, inviting you to sit while they chat quietly in the library. Investing in learning more about you, and you about them. Blurring a line from before into something warmer, friendlier.

Then they leave again for the weekend.

The departure is familiar by now. Bags by the door, last checks, calm instructions spoken in that easy rhythm of theirs. But the goodbyes feel different. Slower. Softer.

Wanda pauses at the door longer than usual, stepping closer as her hand brushes your arm with a deliberate gentleness. “Take care of yourself,” she says quietly.

Natasha follows, her touch brief but steady as it settles on your shoulder a moment longer than necessary. “We’ll be back,” she adds, her voice lower than usual.

Then they’re gone, and the house settles into a silence that feels heavier than it should.

One weekend later and all your usual preparation for their return is already in motion by late afternoon. The house cleaned, the air subtly refreshed, a simple recipe planned for dinner that will be ready around the time they’re expected back. Even a small arrangement of flowers sits on the coffee table, something soft and thoughtful you added without really thinking about it.

But somewhere between checking the oven and straightening the living room for the third time, exhaustion catches up with you.

It’s been building for days—late nights, early mornings, the quiet tension you haven’t fully admitted to yourself. And when you finally sit on the couch for “just a moment,” it becomes something heavier. Something you don’t fight.

The next thing you register is warmth, and the feeling of being watched.

Your eyes open slowly, focus slipping into place. Natasha is beside you, sitting close enough that you feel her presence immediately, her hand gently resting against your cheek. Her fingers move with quiet care, brushing hair away from your face.

“Good evening,” she says, her voice low and calm, like she’s been speaking for a while already and only now expects you to hear it.

You jolt slightly as awareness snaps back into place, not just of where you are, but of how close she is. Natasha notices immediately.

“Hey, hey—whoa,” she says, her tone shifting as her hand stills against your skin. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m alright,” you manage, pushing yourself upright quickly, the sudden awareness making you hyper-conscious of everything at once. “I just— I must’ve fallen asleep.”

You sit up fully, adjusting your position on the couch, suddenly too aware of how you’re sitting, of your uniform, of the space between you. Natasha shifts slightly to give you room, though she doesn’t move far.

Wanda is there too, standing a few steps behind the couch with her arms loosely crossed. Her expression is harder to read, but her attention is fixed on you in that quiet, steady way you’ve started to recognize.

For a moment, no one speaks. The air feels different than it did when you fell asleep; it no longer feels like you are just waiting for her to come home.

Over the last month, everything has started to catch up. The tension has built steadily through every conversation and every touch, everything done with quiet intent.

Your chest rises and falls quickly, the sound of your breathing loud in the silence. Your eyes search her face, while her gaze remains steadier, watching you back. Her eyes dart to your lips, as yours dart to hers.

Before you can make a move or say another word, her lips meet yours. With a month of built-up pressure finally breaking, you lean into the kiss far quicker than you’d like to admit.

Your back hits the couch cushion again, and your hand reaches out to grip her shirt. With eyes shut and your face tilted, you settle back, moving with her.

It was a kiss, a long winded one.

Lingering kisses eventually deepened into long make-out sessions, and those sessions inevitably blurred into the arrangement you had now.

With Natasha at work, the house was quiet, leaving only you and Wanda. At her request, you were on the floor scrubbing the tiles in the foyer. Her focus was lower than usual, her gaze fixed intently on the backs of your thighs. She watched with a quiet hunger, wanting nothing more than to pull your skirt up just a few inches to see more of you.

You swallowed hard, a soft "oh..." escaping your lips when you felt the point of her heel press against your skin. She dragged it slowly up the back of your thigh, inching toward the hem of your work outfit and pushing the fabric of your skirt higher and higher.

Wanda hummed in low approval at the sight, her eyes tracing the curve of your hips and the lace of your underwear, the only thing obscuring the view she wanted most.

The air in the foyer felt thick as you slowly turned your head. You didn't meet her gaze directly; instead, your eyes traveled up her legs, to the line of her shoulder, and finally to the soft curve of her cheek. The silence stretched between you, charged and expectant, until she spoke with a quiet, firm command.

"Continue."

Taking a deep breath, you turn back to the tiled floor, forcing yourself to focus on the scrubbing. You try to work as if you don't feel her gaze on you, heavy with a sense of deep entertainment.

When you finally finish the spot Wanda had pointed out earlier, she reaches down, her fingers firm against your jaw. She tilts your head up until you're forced to face her, then leans down to capture your lips in a brief, searing kiss.

"Good job..." she murmurs against your skin, her voice laced with a quiet, lingering satisfaction.

This whole thing was torture.

The memory of their kisses and the heat of their hands seemed burned into your skin, dragging you deeper into a hazy, unfocused mindset. They would pin you against the wall, hands sliding over your curves, feeling the shape of your body until you were breathless. They’d press feather-light kisses up the sensitive line of your neck or grip your hips just to hear the sharp catch of your gasp. These were hot, quiet, random spikes of intimacy that promised everything before they were stopped.

It was driving you up the wall. You felt like you were losing your mind because it never went further.

You’d be cleaning a counter and feel a hand drag slowly up the back of your thigh. Your back would arch instinctively, a silent, desperate plea for them to keep going, but they would just pull away. Every time, they took everything back right before it could progress, leaving you shivering and stranded in the silence they left behind.

You had finished for the day, your body burning from a weeks worth of teasing. Your forehead pressed against your shower wall, sighing from the coolness on your hot skin. Your mind kept replaying the moments, the scenes from earlier. And your fingers unknowingly dipped in between your thighs to feel the soaked mess. You keen at the touch, finally getting something.

You rub your clit, thighs shaking. Leaning heavily against the cool surface, bottom lip dropped open as you whine and keen at the feeling. Your mind full of all the moments between you and Natasha, Wanda... the both of them. Imagining if you went just further, how they'd take care of you. They're kind, so incredibly so. You can only imagine how their touch would feel there, how their voices low would sound against your ear.

"G-gods," you cry softly, shuddering. "W-wanda... Natasha... please...!"

Thighs clenching together as your thighs drip with your arousal as you fall down from your climax. Unaware Wanda had come by to your little home to try and return your laptop that you had left in the library, her ears perked to hearing your moans from the small space inside the front door.

As you breath heavily, your mind feeling a dazed mess. You jerk awake at the knock to your door, heart falling into your stomach. Wrapping a towel around your body, you hear towards the front door. Cheeks flushed, embarrassment and shame filling your body at the possibility that she's heard you.

"Wanda... I-"

She shuts your hesitant explanation up, grabbing hold of you and pulling you into a kiss. She places your laptop on a surface that she passes by, her eyes opening briefly to place it there before her attention turns back to you.

"Listen to me, shh." She explains, tone too sweet. "We're going to put a name in place if you wish to stop at any time, alright? Tell me you're listening, lovie."

You whine, arms crossing around the back of her neck, nodding, "Yes..."

"Any word you'd like?"

"I... um, Pear?"

"Alright, you say pear if you wish to stop. Okay?"

"Okay.. I will."

She's not wasting time after to back you up until you're falling back onto your bed. Her lips run down your neck, fingers tugging the towel around your bare body off. She runs her hand down your chest, rubbing at your nipple to hear you moan.

"Please...!"

"Shh," she murmurs, sliding her hand down your side to touch you directly. Her eyes, dark and lidded, watching your head fall back as she swirls her fingers around your wet pussy.

You bite your bottom lip, "mm..!"

You were already hovering on the edge, your nervous system frayed from the back-to-back stimulation. Every time her thumb swiped over your clit, a jagged bolt of lightning shot straight to your core. Your breath came in ragged, broken sobs, your fingers digging into the bedding as you tried to find some purchase in the storm she was creating.

"Wanda, please... I can't—"

"You can," she countered softly, leaning down to catch your whimpers with her lips. She tasted like expensive wine and authority.

The door to your cottage creaked open again, neither of you locked it in your sex-crazed haze. The heavy, measured tread of boots on the wood floor told you exactly who it was before she even spoke.

"I thought I'd find the two of you here," Natasha’s voice drifted in from the bedroom doorway.Her eyes took in the sceen. Looking from the discarded towel, your flushed, shaking form, and Wanda’s hand buried between your thighs. Natasha walked to the edge of the bed, her shadow falling over you. Your teary eyes looking up to her, hands clutching at the sheets beside your head.

"Heard her touching herself in the shower, moaning our names," Wanda explains, angling her hands so Natasha can bring her hand alongside Wanda's.

The addition of Natasha’s finger pushing into you was the final breach. Her fingers stretching you in a way that made your breath hitch and stay trapped in your throat.

"Is that so?" Natasha murmured, her voice dropping to a gravelly low as she watched the way your body reacted to the dual invasion. She didn't look away from your eyes, holding your gaze even as she began to move in tandem with her wife. "Using us to find your little thrill while you're all alone?"

Wanda leaned over you, her hair draping like a silken curtain around your face, sealing the three of you into a private world of heat and friction. "It’s a breach of contract, really," Wanda whispered against your lips, her thumb never stopping its relentless, grinding circles on your clit. "Taking what belongs to us without asking."

The sensation was overwhelming. Too much, too fast, and yet exactly what you had been dying for during those long, lonely months of "professionalism." With Wanda’s thumb pushing you toward the sun and the combined weight of their fingers filling you, your internal muscles began to clench in desperate, rhythmic pulses.

"She’s close," Natasha noted, her eyes darkening. She hooked her thumb into the crease of your hip, pinning you down as you tried to buck upward. "Don't you dare close your eyes. Look at what you've done to yourself. Look at how we're taking care of you. Open your eyes."

You let out a broken, high-pitched keen, your fingers losing their grip on the sheets as your back arched off the mattress. The world narrowed down to the point where their hands met inside you.

"Please," you sobbed, the word a frantic prayer. "Please, I—I can't—"

Your climax hit with the force of a tidal wave, your internal walls squeezing around them in tight, helpless spasms. Your overstimulation turned into a white-hot blur. You were vaguely aware of the way Wanda’s hand stayed exactly where it was, holding you through the aftershocks, refusing to let you retreat from the intensity of what they were doing to you.

As the room slowly stopped spinning, you lay there shivering, completely exposed and utterly claimed in the quiet of your own room.

"Good girl," Natasha whispered, finally withdrawing her hand to stroke a damp strand of hair from your forehead. Her touch was suddenly, jarringly tender as she looked down at your spent form.

Wanda hummed, leaning down to press one last, lingering kiss to your heated temple. "Rest now, darling," she murmured, her voice returning to that smooth, employer-like calm that felt so much more dangerous now. "We expect you at the main house at dawn. Breakfast won't make itself."

Same from before...

Torture. This was torture.

The granite was cold against your palms, a sharp contrast to the heat of Natasha’s body pressed firmly against your back. You had barely started on the morning’s routine before her hands were on you, dragging the fabric of your uniform up until it bunched at your waist.

Your head fell back against her shoulder, a broken sound escaping you as she reached around to find you. Her movements were steady and deliberate, her fingers sliding over your skin with a familiarity that made your knees weak. She didn't say a word, her quiet focus more overwhelming than any command.

"The stove," you managed to whisper, your fingers white-knuckled as you gripped the edge of the counter.

"Ignore it," Natasha murmured against your ear, her thumb finding your clit and applying a slow, heavy pressure that made your breath hitch.

Across the island, Wanda leaned against the counter, her dark eyes fixed on the way you moved under Natasha’s hands. She didn't move to help or stop it; she simply watched, her presence adding a weight to the room that made the air feel thick. She reached out, her fingers trailing idly over the morning paper, but her attention remained entirely on you.

Every time you tried to regain your footing, Natasha shifted her weight, pinning you more firmly against the stone and increasing the pace of her fingers. The friction was relentless, grinding against you in all the ways she knew you couldn't handle.

Your back arched, a sharp gasp leaving you as the stimulation became too much to fight. The kitchen was quiet, save for the hum of the house and the ragged sound of your own breathing as they watched you come apart.

The study was quiet, the air thick with the scent of old paper and the soft clicking of Natasha’s keyboard. You stepped inside, your grip light on the handle of your duster as you caught her eye.

"Hi," you murmured, offering a soft, tentative smile. "Is it alright if I start on the bookshelves?"

Natasha leaned back slightly, her expression warming as she looked up from her screen. "Yes, of course. Thank you."

You moved to the far wall, the steady rhythm of your work filling the silence as you reached for the higher shelves. You could feel her gaze occasionally flicking away from her work to follow your movements.

"How is your latest painting coming along?" she asked, her voice casual but attentive.

You paused, your hand hovering near a leather-bound spine. "Oh... it’s fine. I just haven't had much time to get back to it lately."

Natasha’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "Then take the evening off," she suggested.

Your hand faltered, the duster stilled against the wood. "B-but... I still have the dinner service and the—"

The study was quiet, the only sound the soft friction of your cloth against the wood until Natasha spoke. Her suggestion caught you completely off guard, the professional habit of always being available momentarily clashing with the genuine excitement bubbling up in your chest.

"Truly, I mean it. Take the time."

"Really?" you asked, pausing with the duster still in hand.

"Really," she confirmed, a faint, knowing tilt to her lips.

You didn't need to be told twice. After a quick, grateful goodbye, you practically floated out of the main house. The walk back to your cottage was brisk, the salt air feeling particularly invigorating.

Once inside, the evening was a blur of focused energy. You set up your easel by the window, catching the last of the golden hour as it washed over the canvas. The brushes felt like an extension of your hand, the colors blending with a fluid ease you hadn't felt in weeks. The tension of the house, the complex stares from Wanda, and the weight of Natasha's attention seemed to channel themselves directly into the pigment.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving only deep purples and bruised oranges across the sky, you were covered in faint splatters of paint and feeling a sense of profound peace. You stepped back to survey the work, your chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

The snap of a twig outside made you turn.

A silhouette stood on your small porch, framed by the darkening ocean behind them. The door wasn't locked, you rarely felt the need for it here. Wanda stepped inside, her movements as graceful as ever, her eyes immediately finding the canvas before they drifted to you.

"Natasha said you were inspired," Wanda said softly, stepping closer. She didn't look at the mess on your hands or the smudge of blue on your cheek; she looked at the painting with a quiet, intense reverence. "It seems she was right."

"I... I didn't hear you come up," you whispered, suddenly very aware of how small your home felt with her inside it.

Wanda didn't answer right away. She walked around the easel, her silk dress rustling faintly, until she was standing directly in front of you. The air between you hummed, charged with the same unspoken current that had been vibrating through the kitchen and the library for months.

"It’s beautiful," she murmured, reaching out. Her fingers didn't touch the painting; instead, they brushed against your jaw, her thumb ghosting over that smudge of blue paint on your skin.

"Thank you..."

Wanda’s thumb lingered on your jaw, the blue paint smearing slightly under the warmth of her skin. The silence in your home was heavy, broken only by the distant, rhythmic crash of the waves against the cliffside. Her gaze dropped to your lips, and before you could draw another breath, she leaned in.

The kiss was deep and inevitable, the culmination of a year of stolen glances and professional restraint finally snapping. You whimpered into her mouth, your hands coming up to clutch at the silk of her sleeves as she pressed forward, her body a firm, commanding weight that forced you backward. Your heels hit the base of the wall, and the cool glass of the window pressed against your spine as she pinned you there.

She pulled back just an inch, her breath hot against your skin. "I've wanted to do that since the day we hired you," she whispered, her voice low.

Without waiting for a response, her kisses began to migrate. She trailed them down the line of your throat, her tongue grazing your pulse point before she dropped to her knees. The transition was fluid, her hands sliding up the insides of your thighs to gather your dress, bunching the fabric at your waist.

You gasped, your head hitting the windowpane with a dull thud as she moved between your legs. The cool evening air from the slightly ajar window hit your bare skin, but the heat radiating from Wanda was all you could feel.

"Be good for me," she murmured, looking up at you with lidded, intense eyes. "Be very still."

She didn't give you a choice. Her tongue swiped along your clit, tasting the arousal you’d been carrying all day. You bucked instinctively, your fingers tangling in her hair, but she gripped your hips, her fingernails digging in just enough to anchor you.

"I said still," she repeated against your skin, punctuating the command with a sharp, sudden nip to your inner thigh.

You let out a strangled cry, your legs trembling as she settled in. She ate you out with a slow, agonizing thoroughness, her tongue swirling and pressing in all the ways that made your vision blur.

Every time you tried to shy away from the intensity, her grip tightened, holding you ruthlessly against the glass until you were nothing but a shivering mess of sensation under her quiet, focused care.

The house felt unusually cold that Tuesday, the coastal fog pressing thick and grey against the windows. You were in the dining room, your movements mechanical as you adjusted the floral centerpiece, but your heart wasn't in the work. You’d been feeling the shift. A strange, growing silence between the three of you that felt less like peace and more like a withdrawal.

As you stepped toward the foyer to retrieve a fallen leaf, you heard their voices. Low, serious, and stripped of the warmth that usually colored their private conversations. You froze behind the heavy oak door.

“It’s getting complicated, Natasha,” Wanda said, her tone measured, quieter than usual. “We didn’t exactly set rules for this, and now… we’re just letting it drift.”

There was a brief silence. You could almost hear Natasha exhale.

“I know,” she said, her voice softer, but edged with something firmer underneath. “But we can’t keep guessing how she feels and calling it enough. She hasn’t said anything. She just… goes along with it.”

Your chest tightened.

Another pause.

“And if that’s all it is for her,” Natasha continued, a little more distant now, “then we need to stop pretending it’s more. Either she actually wants to be part of this, or we step back and let things be what they were before... We should ton-"

You didn't stay to hear the rest; the floor seemed to tilt beneath your feet. You retreated to your small cottage on the ledge, the salt air stinging your eyes as you spent a sleepless night convinced that the "arrangement" had finally reached its expiration date. You weren't just losing a job; you were losing the only place you’d ever felt you belonged.

The next morning, you moved through the main house like a ghost. You kept your eyes down, your uniform pressed and perfect, returning to the invisible persona of the domestic chatelaine. You avoided the study. You stayed out of the kitchen. You were back to being the help.

You were on your knees in the hallway, scrubbing the baseboards with a desperate, shaky intensity, when two pairs of shoes appeared in your peripheral vision. You didn't look up, your fingers white-knuckled around the brush.

"Look at me," Wanda commanded. It wasn't the playful, dark command from before; it was soft, laced with a sudden, sharp concern.

"I’m almost finished with the hall, Ma’am," you whispered, your voice thick and brittle. "I’ll be out your way."

A hand settled on your shoulder, Natasha. She knelt on the floor beside you, her strength forcing you to stop the frantic scrubbing. "Why are you calling her that? And why have you been hiding in the shadows all morning?"

“I heard you,” you said, the words breaking out of you before you could stop them. Your voice shook, eyes stinging as you looked between them. “About the distance… about things getting complicated. I know I’m just—” you swallowed hard, “—I know I work for you, and things got… blurred, but I can’t just go back to how it was. I can’t pretend none of this happened.”

The hallway went still.

For a split second, neither of them reacted—like your words hadn’t landed the way you thought they would.

Then Wanda moved first.

She dropped down in front of you, not cold, not distant—something in her expression cracking open instead. Her hands came up, hesitant at first, before gently steadying you.

“Oh, sweetheart…” she murmured, her voice soft with sudden understanding. “That’s not what we meant. Not even close.”

Natasha stepped in beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her, the tension in her shoulders. “We weren’t talking about pushing you away,” she said, quieter now. “We were trying to figure out if we already crossed a line we shouldn’t have.”

You blinked, breath catching.

Wanda’s thumb brushed lightly under your eye, catching a tear before it could fall. “You haven’t said anything,” she added gently. “You’ve just… gone along with us. And we started thinking—what if you felt like you had to?”

Natasha exhaled, rubbing a hand over the back of her neck. “We didn’t want you stuck in something you couldn’t refuse. That’s what the ‘distance’ was about. Giving you room, if you needed it.”

The words hit differently now. Not sharp—just heavy in a completely different way.

“I don’t want room,” you said, the truth rushing out of you, uneven and fragile. “That’s the problem. The idea of going back—to just being your employee, pretending this didn’t happen—” your voice broke, “—that’s what scares me.”

They both stilled.

You forced yourself to keep going, even as your chest tightened. “I thought you were… done with me. Like this was just something that got out of hand and now you were fixing it.”

Wanda’s expression softened instantly, something almost pained flickering across her face.

“I don’t feel like ‘the help’ anymore,” you admitted, quieter now. “And I don’t want to. I want it to mean something. I want… all of it to mean something.”

The confession hung there, fragile and exposed.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Natasha stepped closer, her hand coming up—slow this time, deliberate—giving you time to pull away if you wanted.

You didn’t.

Her fingers curled gently at your jaw, grounding. “You should have told us,” she said, but there was no reprimand in it. Just something softer. Regret, maybe.

Wanda leaned in beside her, her hand finding yours and holding it tightly. “We thought we were protecting you,” she said quietly. “Not losing you. We should've said something too.... We're sorry, lovie."

The distance you’d been bracing for didn’t come. Instead, they stayed right there—close, careful, and waiting. Like this time, whatever happened next… would actually be your choice.

"Oh," Natasha moans, her head falling back into the pillows, her fingers tangling deep in Wanda’s hair as Wanda works between her thighs with a slow, devastating hunger.

The sound carries through the heavy oak doors of the primary suite, but you’re already inside, clutching your cleaning tray. It’s the standard schedule, the routine you’ve followed for a year, but the air in the room is different now—thick, charged, and smelling of salt and expensive perfume. Your cheeks flush a deep, hot crimson as you freeze mid-step, your eyes catching the sight of them on the expansive silk bed.

"O-oh, I... I’m so sorry. I’ll come back—"

Natasha’s eyes snap open, dark and lidded, "stay... if you'd like."

When you nod after a moment, she reaches out, her hand trembling slightly as she waves you further into the room.

"Sit," she commands, her voice a low, gravelly rumble. She gestures to the edge of the bed.

Wanda pauses, her lips slick as she starts to move toward you, drawn by your presence, but Natasha’s grip tightens. She tugs Wanda back to her core by her hair, a sharp, grounding pull. "You’re not finished," Natasha murmurs, her gaze never leaving yours.

You sit, your legs feeling like lead, your thighs squirming against the soft duvet as you watch them. You watch the rhythm of Wanda’s shoulders, the arch of Natasha’s back, and the way they move together until Natasha finally breaks, a long, shattered breath escaping her as she finds her release.

When she’s done, Wanda finally pulls away. She crawls across the silk toward you, her eyes glowing with a dark, affectionate possessiveness. She reaches out, tilting your chin up, and spits into your mouth—a raw, visceral claim that ensures you taste both of them before she crashes her lips against yours. You kiss her back, a broken whimper escaping you as you finally receive the attention you’ve been starving for.

As Wanda makes out with you, her tongue searching yours, you hear the quiet, rhythmic click of a harness. Natasha moves toward you, her movements steady and clinical. She doesn't say a word, but the intent in her eyes is absolute.

Your legs are guided open, wrapped tightly around Wanda’s waist. You take Wanda’s fingers into your mouth, sucking on them as Natasha moves behind you. The first thrust is slow, a heavy, filling stretch that makes your eyes roll back. You moan into Wanda’s palm, your body shaking at the sheer scale of the sensation.

Wanda shifts her body, her hands firm on your shoulders as she maneuvers you onto your elbows and knees. Your back arches instinctively, a sharp, jagged keen escaping your throat at the way your body is being opened and used. It’s a beautiful, overwhelming stretch.

Wanda moves directly in front of you, settling onto the mattress and parting her legs, her gaze fixed on your face.

"Good girl," she whispers, her voice a dark velvet caress.

She pulls you forward, making you eat her out with a desperate, frantic hunger, while behind you, Natasha takes you with a relentless, punishing pace. You are pinned between them—the damp, intoxicating heat of Wanda in front and the sharp, rhythmic force of Natasha behind.

Every thrust drives you further into Wanda’s core, the dual stimulation turning your world into a blurred symphony. The rhythm behind you shifts, becoming sharper and more deliberate. Natasha’s hand leaves your hip, and the air hits your heated skin for only a split second before the first crack of her palm meeting your flesh echoes through the room.

A sharp, shocked cry breaks from your throat, muffled only by the proximity of Wanda’s body. The sting is immediate—a bright, stinging heat that radiates across your cheek and down your thighs, grounding you in the intensity of the moment. Natasha doesn't let up; she finds a punishing cadence, alternating between the heavy, filling thrusts of the strap-on and the stinging weight of her hand against your backside.

In front of you, Wanda’s fingers suddenly entwine in your hair, tugging just enough to pull you away from her. She grips your jaw, her thumb and forefinger squeezing your chin with a firm, unyielding pressure that forces you to look up. Your eyes are watery, your vision blurred by the sheer overstimulation of being taken from both ends, but she waits until you meet her gaze.

"Look at me, darling," Wanda murmurs, her dark eyes searching your face, drinking in the flush of your cheeks and the way your lips are parted and trembling.

The sting behind you continues—crack, crack—and your back arches with every impact, your breath coming in ragged, desperate hitches. You are completely undone, a shivering mess of arousal and surrender pinned between the two women who own every inch of your world.

"Tell her," Wanda commands, her thumb dragging across your bottom lip, catching a stray drop of moisture. Her voice is a soft, velvet blade. "Thank Natasha for taking you so thoroughly. Let her hear how much you love it."

You let out a broken, keening sound as Natasha delivers one final, heavy swat that makes your entire body shudder. The friction, the heat, and the weight of their attention culminate in a crushing wave of affection and need.

"T-thank you," you sob out, your forehead dropping to rest against Wanda’s chest as the last of your composure shatters. "Thank you, Natasha... please! thank you... thank you."

The room felt small, the air heavy and still as the frantic energy of the last few minutes began to settle into something deeper and more permanent. You were slumped against Wanda, your body vibrating with the aftershocks of a pleasure so intense it felt like grief.

"Good girl," Natasha rumbled behind you. She didn't pull away; instead, she held you flush against her, her arms locking around your waist like iron bands. She pressed her face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin and the salt air. "Look at her, Wanda. She’s perfect when she’s broken down like this."

Wanda’s hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek, her thumb wiping away the tears that wouldn't stop falling. Her expression was luminous, a terrifyingly beautiful mix of pride and hunger.

"She is," Wanda whispered, her voice a soft, melodic hum. "And she did so well for us."

She leaned down, her lips ghosting over yours, and the mere contact sent a fresh spark through your sensitized nerves. She didn't let you rest. Her fingers drifted back down, finding the core of you that was already raw and weeping, and she began to move with a slow, agonizingly precise rhythm.

"One more, darling," Wanda coaxed, her eyes locked onto yours, forcing you to stay present in the sensation. "Just one more for us. Show us how much you belong here."

You let out a weak, desperate protest, but your body was no longer your own. Natasha’s hands squeezed your hips, grounding you, while Wanda’s touch drove you back over the edge. You came with a shattered, silent cry, your head falling back against Natasha’s shoulder as your muscles seized and finally went limp. You were completely ruined, your strength drained, leaving you a soft, pliable weight in their arms.

Wanda leaned in close, her lips brushing your ear. The words she spoke next were quiet, but they carried the weight of a life-changing vow.

"We don't want to just hire you anymore," she breathed. "We want the truth. We want total ownership of you—body, heart, and soul. How does that sound, lovie?"

The question hung in the air, thick and sweet. You didn't even have the breath to speak, but the answer was written in the way you slumped into them, seeking their heat. You nodded frantically, your chin brushing Wanda’s collarbone as you let out a small, pleading whimper.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I want this. I choose this, both of you.”

They didn’t rush. They just stayed. Together, you sank into the bed, their warmth on either side of you, no space left for doubt. Wanda’s arm curled around your waist. Natasha’s hand found yours, holding it gently.

note: I hate this 🙂

[isthatmyjacket-rhiyo]

this is them and I will not elaborate

[traveler-at-heart]

Be My Valentines

Summary: Wanda and Natasha fight over you.

A/N: If you think about timelines and shit this doesn't make sense, but this is just silly and gay, enjoy. And Long Live Vampire Roan.

---

It’s one of those days.

Slow. Boring. 

Natasha is between missions, aware that she might get called anytime for an urgent recon as soon as Rogers confirms the intel. 

Which means, she can’t go grocery shopping or order some food because the chances of leaving before the DoorDasher makes it through security are slim.

She’d be more annoyed, but when she steps into the common room, she finds you cuddled up in the couch, scrolling on your phone while a show plays in the background.

If she gets to spend some time with you, her day will be considerably better.

“I take it it’s not such a good show” she leans against the back of the couch, smiling when your eyes meet. 

“Come” you invite her, moving so she has room. You give her enough space in case she decides to stick to the corner, but to your surprise, Natasha sits closer, her knee brushing against yours.

“How are you?”

“Tired. That safe house was the worst. I was sleeping on the floor” you complain.

“Worse than the one on Belgrade?” she says, her eyebrows shooting up. 

Belgrade was your thing.

Not that anything relevant happened, except that you spent a total of eight days together. Day and night, recovering intel, following people, taking turns to watch the targets.

In between the exhausting work and the crappy food, Natasha found herself falling for you. It didn’t hit her until after the mission was complete and you went back to normal.

She missed your company; she wondered what you’d say about the people she saw walking down the street. Natasha also wondered if you missed it too.

“Belgrade wasn’t so bad” you smile at her, biting your lip. “Unless I’m the only one who actually enjoyed the company”

“No, you’re not. It was nice” Natasha says, not wanting to make you think she didn’t enjoy it. “Next time I hope they send us to a nicer place”

“Italy” you propose and Natasha chuckles.

“What are you watching?” she asks when your attention returns to the screen.

“The Pitt. I’m not really a fan of the lead guy but I saw a lot of people talking about this character and thought I’d give it a try”

“Which one?” Natasha says and you shake your head.

“Guess”

There are a couple of female characters, and Natasha sees herself in Dana. Headstrong, straight to the point, her raspy voice… she’s about to take her guess hoping to be right when a blonde woman with glasses and her hair a braid shows up on screen and you squeal.

“Isn’t she so cute?”

“Who?” Natasha says, frowning.

“Mel. She’s a resident, and she also takes care of her sister and is so awkward but also nice and soft… I just want to braid her hair and tell her everything’s going to be ok” you sigh dreamily.

Since Mel is speaking, you quit scrolling on your phone and focus on the show.

Well, that’s disappointing. Natasha is definitely not soft or awkward and shy. So this means you’re definitely not interested in a rough around the edges former assassin.

Right.

“Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers request your presence in the briefing room” FRIDAY announces and you sigh, reaching out for her hand.

“Be careful”

“Will do” she says, enjoying the warmth of your contact. 

Wanda walks in, stopping at the sight of your clasped hands. You wave at her, unaware of the sudden tension in the room.

But Natasha notices. She sees how Wanda looks at you, how her hand lingers on your waist when you’re cooking dinner and she pretends to reach for an ingredient that’s close to you. 

Wanda can be soft and shy and awkward. Which means she might be your type.

As Natasha stands up to leave, the Sokovian takes her place, giggling and putting her arm around your shoulders.

The good thing about being a little rough is that Natasha likes a good challenge. And she’s certain she can make you see how nice it is to be with someone confident.

In fact, that’s going to be her mission.

—

“Pass the salt?”

No answer. Wanda looks back and you’re smiling at your phone. 

There’s a weight on her stomach as she wonders if you’re texting someone. You’re too busy with work to meet people outside of the team, but of course there are dating apps and a certain redhead who is always looking for a chance to steal you from Wanda.

You only look up when Wanda calls your name twice.

“Oh, sorry. I can’t believe she was Vampire Roan again”

“What?”

“Chappell! She wore the vampire outfit again for Laneway. I’m so insanely jealous of the people who get to see her live in that. Though we got pirate Roan so that’s fine” you begin to rant.

Of course, you ask FRIDAY to put on her music as you cook. Wanda knew you had gone to the concert with your sister last year and she was mildly disappointed, hoping to ask you out.

But then you met a girl there, dated for a few weeks and apparently swore you were done with that. Bad timing.

Now she’s not sure if it’s the right thing to do, asking you out. Either way, Valentine’s Day is coming up and she has to move fast, sure that Natasha is also planning something.

“So no more concerts this year for her? Maybe we could go to one…” she starts to say.

“Oh, nothing announced for the rest of the year. Not in the US at least. But gosh, I love that for her. She sets boundaries and is not afraid about speaking her mind. All while being so damn confident and looking like Aphrodite herself. That red hair. Why are redheads so hot?”

Ok, now she really regrets asking about this specific subject. 

Wanda’s in no way any of those things. Yes, she has become more confident and outspoken, but it’s nothing like Natasha who can even intimidate a literal god. Wanda can offer homemade meals and soft moments, but are you looking for something different?

“That smells good” a voice says, and you immediately tense up. 

You have nothing against Vision, really. Nothing you can explain logically anyway. But his presence always has a way of irritating you. That calm demeanor, his stupid accent (why does he sound British? He’s a robot). You try to be nice, but more often then not you just put some distance.

“She’s a great cook” Wanda says and you smile at her, though this time it doesn’t reach your eyes. Thankfully food’s almost done.

Unfortunately, Vision pulls out a stool and takes a seat at the kitchen counter. Of course, you understand he’s drawn to Wanda or whatever it is because of the mind stone. But you really want to eat without having to make an effort to explain every joke that leaves your mouth. Or hear how he provides context no one asked for.

Hell, you’re not even hungry anymore.

“Lasagna?” Natasha says a second later and you perk up at her playful tone. “Is this the secret Belgrade recipe?”

“You wish” you show her your tongue, offering the fork for her to try it.

“Perfect” she says, her eyes lingering on your lips. “Can I get some of that?”

“Anything you want. But you’re buying me coffee” you say when she takes a very generous portion.

“We’ll get anything you want” she promises and the way she smiles makes you melt a little.

Or a lot, actually.

You’re too distracted to notice Wanda glaring at Natasha. Cooking and eating dinner is your thing. The only reason Wanda volunteers to help out is to spend time with you.

Now, Vision gave Natasha the perfect opportunity to come and sweep you off your feet. 

Since you’re eager to not spend any more time with thin man, you take a very small piece of lasagna, arguing you need to leave room for dessert.

“I always keep my promises” Natasha winks at you, offering her arm.

“See you later” you wave at Wanda.

Part of you feels bad for leaving her with Vision. But she seems to enjoy his company, and you’re not third wheeling.

It is what it is.

“How about a motorcycle ride?”

“You spoil me” you smile at Natasha and she chuckles.

“Mmhm. I might be going soft” 

“Not complaining at all” you say, taking the helmet she offers.

—

Natasha wants to kill Steve. He sent you on a three day mission with Sam when she was fully available to go with you.

“You need to take time off. Enjoy some peace and quiet” he had said.

She’d very much enjoy kicking his ass.

Then again, better Sam than Maximoff.

Vision’s been strangely attached to the Sokovian these past few days and though you had felt a little weird about it, Natasha would always show up at the right time to ease the tension and focus only on you, leaving Mr. Toaster to spend time with the witch.

Her window of opportunity is opening and she’s ready to take it.

Speak of the devil.

Wanda’s in the kitchen, cooking and humming as she stirs the contents of a pot. Natasha nods her head towards her as a greeting. If you’re not around, she usually skips pleasantries.

As she pours herself some coffee, the Russian browses through the take out menus they have. Not that she thinks Wanda’s capable of poisoning her but… she rather not take her chances.

“Huh” she comments when she finds a flyer for a Valentine’s dinner at an Italian place.

“That’s mine” Wanda says, using her magic to take the paper out of Natasha’s hands.

“Interesting” is all she comments, knowing her presence alone is making Wanda anxious.

Of course, Wanda feels a little stupid and exposed and she knows Natasha knows that she’s planning on asking you out. Part of her wants to crawl under the table and hide, but if she wants to be the kind of person you’re attracted to, she’ll have to be more proactive.

Stand her ground.

“Ok, I’m thinking about asking her out. So are you, don’t deny it. I’m not giving up, Natasha”

“Of course not. Where’s the fun in winning without a little competition?” she winks at her, leaving the kitchen with a confident stride.

But deep down, she might be panicking. 

She needs to plan something amazing for Valentine’s. And she’s definitely not good at romantic gestures or conventional celebrations.

If Natasha wants to win your heart, she better put her skills to great use.

—

The next few days are a blur. You come back from your mission with a stab wound. 

Natasha threatens to kill Sam. Wanda glares at Steve every time he walks past her.

Both women are at your beck and call, and the rest of the team seems to pick up on the fact there’s a not-so-friendly competition taking place. No one is about to get in the middle of an assassin and a witch fighting.

Natasha wakes up extra early to get you your favorite coffee and pastries. Wanda takes your laundry and does your bed while you’re in the kitchen. Natasha tackles Sam when he tries to take the remote and offers it to you with a smile. And Wanda’s always checking on your wound and reminding you to take your meds.

It’s honestly not that big of an injury, but you’re spoiled and happy that Wanda ignores Vision and Natasha sits through episodes of The Pitt with you.

And then it’s the 12th of the month.

For the first time in a week you go to the gym to train with Clint. Natasha casually hangs around the living room, knowing you have to walk past it to get to your own bedroom. Wanda has been pretending to cook something for the better part of the morning too.

And then you greet them, sweaty and smiling.

“Hey guys. Gotta shower!”

“Wait!”

“Do you have a second?”

They speak at the same time, glaring at each other. 

“Uh… can't it wait until after my shower? You know I hate feeling sticky”

“Well, I…” Natasha hesitates. “It’s kind of important. Maybe Wanda can wait”

“No, my question is just as important as Natasha’s” the Sokovian says, considering how mad you’d get if she throws Natasha across the room.

Fucking try me, Natasha dares her telepathically. She doesn't need to read minds to know Wanda's tempted to use her powers.

“Alright, you guys are being weird and I really want to shower so, I guess you’ll have to tell me while I clean up”

“Sure” Natasha says, following you. 

They both stand awkwardly outside of the ensuite bathroom, while you get clean clothes and your towel. 

“I’ll leave the door open so I can hear you!” you say, and they both turn around as soon as you undress. “What? I thought it was kind of important?”

“Well, I was thinking… you like Italian food, right?” Wanda says, mentally facepalming at how lame she sounds.

“Not as much as she likes art.” Natasha interrupts and you chuckle.

“I like both very much. Why’d you ask?”

“Maybe we could go out and have dinner” Wanda begins to say, but Natasha interrupts her.

“Valentine’s tomorrow and I really want to take you out on a museum date, detka, what do you say?” 

“Excuse me!” Wanda scoffs and Natasha arches her eyebrows.

“Oh, you’re excused. I’ll take it from here, Maximoff”

“What makes you think she likes you more than she likes me?”

“The way she hugs me when we’re riding on my motorcycle”

“That’s because you’re an awful driver and she’s scared” Wanda protests, making Natasha chuckle.

“Oh, please. You think passing the salt while she cooks is more romantic? Spicy” 

“It’s about spending quality time together”

“While your toaster pet hangs in the background, how cute” Natasha pouts, mocking Wanda.

“It’s the mind stone!”

Their screaming increases in volume and pretty soon they’re just insulting each other without rhyme or reason. To be honest, they even forgot you were standing right there.

Until you clear your throat. 

Wanda and Natasha turn to look at you, hair wet, a smirk in your face.

And more importantly, completely naked.

“Alright, you two. Settle down and play nice”

“Did you forget your towel? I’ll get it for you” Wanda mumbles.

“Nope. I tried calling for you two but neither listened. Thought this would catch your eye” you smile. “Now. I’ll be honest. I like you both, and maybe if you see past your differences, I think you’ll grow on each other. Or maybe you can fuck it out. Either way, are you interested in testing my theory?”

You stand between them, your front to Wanda and leaning against Natasha, who immediately wraps her arm around your waist and kisses the spot between your shoulder and neck.

“You have five seconds to decide or I’m kicking you out” Natasha threatens the Sokovian.

Wanda’s eyes turn red and you’re about to scold them, thinking they’ll start fighting again, but then both of their clothes magically disappear.

“Silencing spell?” you say against her lips.

“Are we going to need it?”

“Considering all the things I’m planning on doing to her, yes” Natasha bites down your earlobe, making you moan.

“Maybe we can see who makes her scream more” Wanda says, tracing your nipple with the tip of her finger.

“See? Now you’re really talking, Maximoff“

You shiver in anticipation, thinking you might be a little bit in over your head.

But after three orgasms, you discover you’re right where you’re meant to be.

[trulysapphic]

sneaking out of bed

@feveruary day 16 | wanda x natasha x reader

all you want is to let your girlfriends sleep... but all they want is to take care of you.

tags: pure fluff, sick!reader, protective girlfriends, caretaking (1k)

You’ve never tried so hard not to cough in your life. 

You stare up at the ceiling, swallowing hard, trying to will the scratchy tickle in your throat away. Your shoulders still betray you, shaking with a tiny, muffled cough you can’t quite hold back.

Wanda, curled up beside you on your right, stirs at the sound. She hums softly in her sleep and snuggles closer, her arm tightening around you. Natasha, on your other side, doesn’t move, thankfully.

You sigh. It’s no use.

Your girlfriends have been taking care of you all day, making a much bigger fuss over your cold than it probably deserves. The last thing you want now is to wake them when they’re finally getting some rest. So you move carefully, easing yourself out of Wanda’s sleepy hold and inching away from Natasha’s side. You sit up, holding your breath.

Relief floods you when neither of them wake. Wanda curls around a pillow in your place, and Natasha lets out a faint, steady snore. You slip out of bed and pad quietly down the hall toward the kitchen, finally letting yourself cough once you’re alone. It racks your body, harsher now that you’re not suppressing it.

You don’t know how it’s possible, but you feel worse than you did when you went to sleep. Your head throbs, chills ripple through your body, and your throat burns like fire. You don’t know if you can make it better, but you do know you’re not getting back to sleep anytime soon.

Walking into the kitchen, you wrap your arms around yourself as a harsh shiver tears through you. You probably should’ve grabbed a hoodie and some socks on your way out of bed, but it’s too late for that now. Instead, you busy yourself filling the kettle, setting it to boil, and rifling through your massive tea stash until you find your favorite sick-day comfort: vanilla chamomile. While the water heats, you sink heavily into a chair at the kitchen table and slump forward, your head pillowed in your arms.

Part of you wants nothing more than to crawl back into bed. But another cough claws its way out of your chest, reminding you why you can’t. So you stay where you are, cold and aching and missing your girlfriends, waiting for the kettle to boil.

When it finally does, you pour yourself a large mug of tea and grab the box of tissues from the counter. You bring everything back to the table and slump down again, hastily pulling a few tissues free just as your nose tickles. You sneeze several times in quick succession, groaning afterward at the pain in your head.

“Bless you,” a rough, sleepy voice murmurs.

You whip around in your chair and freeze. Natasha and Wanda are standing in the doorway to the kitchen, both of them bleary-eyed but unmistakably alert, matching looks of concern already etched into their faces.

“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” Wanda asks, frowning as she crosses the room toward you. She presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, then pulls back with a soft, unhappy sound. “Oh, baby…you’re still burning up. You should be in bed, sweet girl.” Her fingers card through your hair, brushing it carefully off your face.

“I agree,” Natasha says, sitting down on your other side and rubbing slow circles into your back. “If you wanted tea, we could’ve gotten it for you, baby. All you had to do was ask.”

You cough into your elbow, shoulders slumping with a tired sigh. “I was trying not to wake you guys,” you say hoarsely, eyes dropping to your mug. “You’ve already been doing so much for me. I just wanted you to get some sleep, and I couldn’t stop coughing.”

“Sweetheart,” Wanda sighs, running her fingers gently down your arm. She looks at you for a long moment, green eyes soft and searching as she takes you in. “We’re your girlfriends. Of course we’re going to take care of you. And you don’t need to worry about keeping us up.”

You give Wanda a dry look. “So if I don’t get any sleep, that means none of us get any sleep?”

Natasha smirks, tipping your face toward her with a finger under your chin. “Basically, yeah. We’re in this together, baby. Remember that time you stayed up all night with me when I had food poisoning?” 

Wanda chimes in. “Or that night I was having nightmares, and you held me the whole night through and rubbed my back?”

You sigh, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, but that was different. That was you guys. And this is… me.”

Natasha chuckles softly. “I think that fever’s making you a little delirious, baby. You’re not making any sense.” Her thumb brushes your cheek. “Let us take care of you, okay? We want to.”

“Yes, we do,” Wanda agrees gently. “Now come on, sweet girl. Let’s get you back into bed. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you shivering.”

Natasha grabs your mug of tea while Wanda scoops up the tissues, and together they guide you back toward the bedroom. Wanda helps arrange the pillows on the bed so you’re propped up comfortably, and Natasha carefully hands you your tea once you’re settled.

Then Wanda turns the humidifier back on, the soft hum filling the room, then returns with a small cup of medicine. “Take this, sweetheart,” she murmurs, pressing it into your hand. “It might help with the cough.”

You down it quickly, immediately making a face. Both of your girlfriends chuckle. Wanda hands you a glass of water, and Natasha settles in beside you, tucking you close and drawing you under her arm. She presses a kiss to the top of your hair, holding you firmly.

“We’re right here, baby,” she murmurs, her voice low and protective. “And we’re not going anywhere.”

“And no more sneaking out of bed,” Wanda adds, giving you a stern look that doesn’t quite hide her fondness. She leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, humming softly against your skin. “Just stay here where we can look after you. We’ll get you whatever you need. Rest now, okay, detka?”

You smile faintly, feeling impossibly loved, nestled between the two women you care about more than anything in the world. “Thank you,” you whisper, letting your head fall to rest on Natasha’s shoulder. “I love you.” Wanda curls up on your other side, wrapping her arms around your waist.

“We love you too, sweetheart,” Natasha says quietly, and Wanda hums in agreement.

“We really do.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[astralquill]

Love them ❤️‍🔥

[sweetlikelace]

IF WE MAKE IT THROUGH DECEMBER

Sum. when you move into a quiet suburban neighborhood, the last thing you expect is for your new next-door neighbors to invite you to spend a cold, winter evening with them

Warnings. mention of financial struggles, dom/sub relationships, nudity, intoxication, a lil bit of cnc,

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was christmas time when you decided to move, an odd choice, but something about starting over during the quiet lull of winter felt right. the world was softer in december, like it knew everyone was tired and in need of something gentle.

the tires of your old car crunched over the fresh layer of snow as you pulled up to the house. the roof was blanketed in white, icicles hanging from the porch like glass ornaments. your breath fogged up the windshield as you stared for a moment, letting the engine hum while your eyes took in the sight.

it was simple, a little worn around the edges, but it was yours. drawing a few glances from behind sheer curtains and half-closed blinds, the house at the end of the cul-de-sac had been empty for nearly a year, until today. but this new home wasn't just a house, it was a everything. you had bought it with what was left of your father's life. he wasn't a wealthy man by any means, but he worked hard, the kind of hard that wears people down more than it lifts them up. 

you didn't have many boxes, not enough for a moving truck that is. you spent every last penny of your inheritance on this colonial revival homestead, leaving you with just enough for dinner. the furniture from your small, studio apartment was no where near enough to furnish the entire house. it was a dumb decision, really. investing in a home you couldn't afford, in a town filled with strangers, but you had your eye on this house since you were a child. it wasn't even the most impressive house on the block, but the location of all your childhood fantasies. 

you stepped out of the driver's side, stretching your back. a new start. a new place. no baggage, at least none that wasn't packed neatly into cardboard boxes. the house wasn't large, but it had charm. brick and stone, ivy creeping along one side, and a porch that looked like it had stories to tell.

next door, through their window, two women stood just inside their gate. they were quiet, subtly watching and observing. 

"who's that?" natasha asked, arms crossed, sunglasses perched on her head.

wanda nodded slowly, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "new girl. she just moved in."

the other neighbours couldn't quite figure out how someone so presumably young could afford a house like this, tucked away in a quiet, almost forgotten corner of the world. it was clear you were alone. no boyfriend, husband, significant other in the picture. what was your purpose? rumors swirled quietly: maybe a lucky break with the house, or maybe priorities were just different. whatever the truth, the house was yours now, standing solid, ready for you to make it a home.

as for natasha and wanda, they were shocked when the for sale sign was taken down a few days prior. the house had been empty since they moved in, this neighborhood had been too quiet for too long, and the house next door always seemed a little too still. now, there was movement. a new energy. wanda felt it in her chest like a faint thrum, new but not unwelcome.

back in the driveway, you were balancing a box awkwardly on your hip, trying to unlock the front door at the same time. the key stuck, twisted halfway. you muttered something under your breath that probably wasn't polite.

wanda tilted her head. "poor girl, she's going to drop that."

"I give her ten seconds," natasha replied.

the box slipped with a dull thud, books tumbling out and scattering across the icy porch. you groaned and crouched to gather them, your gloves making it harder to grip onto anything.

"should we go over?" wanda asked.

natasha smirked. "you just want an excuse to introduce yourself."

wanda didn't deny it.

by the time you straightened up, brushing your hands on your jeans, the gate creaked open and two women were crossing your lawn with practiced ease. one was tall, with dark red hair pulled into a low braid, she looked cold. The other's eyes were striking, and she smiled like she already knew something you didn't. Neither of them wore jackets, just their arms wrapped around themselves like they didn't plan to be outside long.

"hey there, I'm wanda." the woman said softly, her voice steady and warm, as if she understood the exhaustion weighing on your shoulders. you offered a small, tentative smile in return, still flushing with a mix of embarrassment and relief. "natasha, go grab those other boxes," wanda spoke gently. the second woman bent down without hesitation and started lifting one of the heavier boxes. 

"oh, you really don't have to—" you began, voice trailing off, the weight of pride and fatigue catching in your throat. your breath visible in the night. 

wanda's gaze didn't waver. "nonsense, sweetheart," she said gently, using a word that felt like a soft thread of familiarity woven between strangers. "we're happy to help."

with the help of the two women, the few boxes you'd brought were now neatly stacked at the foot of the staircase, ready to be unpacked. the house came with a bookshelf and just enough to furnish the living room; it had been included when you signed the papers. white sheets covered the sofa and armchairs, giving the room a quiet, almost abandoned look. the fabric was thin and a little yellowed with age, like a gentle reminder that this place had a history before you. it was all outdated, heavy wooden bookshelves with scratched surfaces, floral patterns faded by years of sunlight, and a lamp that looked like it belonged in another era. but despite the worn edges and tired upholstery, you felt a flicker of gratitude. it wasn't much, but it was something.

natasha caught her breath and wanda stood with her hands on her hips, taking in each corner of your new home. "well isn't this sweet." the redhead spoke with such admiration. "you didn't tell us your name yet, sweetheart." 

heat crept into your cheeks, suddenly aware of the oversight. "right, I'm sorry..." you apologize, introducing yourself. 

wanda just flicked her wrist. "no worries, sweet girl. you must be exhausted. was it a far drive?" 

you shake your head. "just a few hours..."

wanda tilted her head, studying you. her eyes soft, but curious. there was an unspoken patience in the way she looked at you. wanda leaned in toward natasha, her voice dropping to a soft whisper you could barely catch. the words were gentle, laced with a hint of a smile you couldn't see fully from where you stood.

natasha's eyes flicked toward you, then back to wanda, a quiet understanding passing between them. after a moment, natasha stepped away, disappearing down the hall.

you watched as wanda settled back, her calm presence filling the room like a warm quiet. a few minutes later, natasha returned carrying a bottle of unopened wine and two glasses, its label worn but intact. she held it out with a small, inviting smile. "a little housewarming." 

"is it just you here, sugarplum?" wanda asks, opening the bottle of screw top wine and pouring you a full glass.

truthfully, there had been someone else. someone you had once imagined buying this house with. you'd traced out dreams together in quiet coffee shops, circled listings in late-night conversations, whispered about paint colours and where the bookshelf would go.

for a long time, it had felt certain; like they'd be here with you, right now, stepping out into the snow, laughing as they helped carry boxes, their breath misting in the cold beside yours.

but like all things, it came to an end. not dramatic, just the quiet kind of unraveling. words left unsaid. distance that kept growing even when you were standing right next to each other. Love that slowly turned into something unrecognizable.

now, it was just you.

"just me." you flash a tightlipped smile and take a sip from the glass. 

natasha and wanda take turns sipping from the same glass, their lipstick staining in the same spot over and over. you 

natasha and wanda sat near the front window, a half-empty glass of wine between them, the soft clink a subtle reminder you weren't alone. they didn't hover, didn't try to take over or fill the space with noise. they simply kept you company, talking quietly between themselves, glancing your way now and then with a kind of gentle attentiveness you weren't used to.

why they were here, you didn't quite understand.

surely they had better things to do, like last-minute shopping, family dinners, wrapping gifts under the tree. but here they were, two women you'd only just met, offering their presence without conditions or expectations.

and maybe it was the wine or the stillness or the way wanda had smiled at you earlier like she saw through the weight you carried—but you found yourself grateful. deeply, quietly grateful. Because this year, kindness had felt scarce.

you hadn't told them about your father. you hadn't said how strange it was to be alive in a world where he no longer existed, how raw the holidays had felt without his voice on the phone or his crooked attempts at gift-wrapping. you hadn't shared how the house, lovely as it was, echoed a little too loudly with the absence of all the people you'd once imagined filling it. 

you felt heavy, which is why when wanda's lips touched yours you instantly pulled back, startled. confusion flooded your head, was this happening or was it just the wine? natasha watched her wife with a tilted head. "self control, darling. you don't want to scare our new friend." she gently rubbed wanda's arm. 

you swallowed, fingers finding the spot on your lips she had kissed. you had no words. "I'm sorry, detka." wanda apologized. "sometimes I get ahead of myself."

you nod, shrugging it off. "it's okay... it was nice..." your words trail off.

wanda and natasha share a look before natasha stands up and moves to the other side of the sofa, so you were sandwiched between them. natasha brushes a stand of hair out of your face. "it must be lonely, just you in this big house." you nod, feeling the effects of the wine. you were beginning to feel very comfortable in the presence of the two older women. your eyes trailed back to wanda's mouth as she spoke. not listening to a word, just focusing on how her lips moved. it didn't go unnoticed by her. she gently ran a tongue over her bottom lip. 

"poor thing. you must be so tired after today." she coos and looks over to natasha who was taking the wine glass out of your hand and placing it on the floor beside you. "we can help you relax, sweet girl." wanda whispers. "would you like that?" it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what they were implying, and you knew that. a couple hours ago you would've shut the door in their faces, but in this moment, all you felt was curiosity. 

wanda kissed you again, soft and gentle while natasha stroked your arm with the backside of her hand. "she's delicious, nat. come try." wanda adjusted herself to make room for her wife. natasha's lips felt different. they were a bit chapped, but she kissed with more force. you didn't know who to focus on. wanda ran fingers through your hair as natasha began running hers beneath your knit sweater. her fingertips danced along the line of your stomach, causing goosebumps. 

once they had you in just your underwear, you watched as they kissed each other. more rough than they were with you. natasha took control, and wanda bathed in it. 

"it looks like someone's feeling left out." natasha feigns sympathy. but wanda softened and immediately returned to you. she traced your jaw line. "we're going to take good care of you." she pecked your forehead and disappeared behind you. natasha pressed her thumb against your lips. "open." she demanded and you obeyed within seconds. 

you almost didn't notice wanda unbuckling your bra behind you. you suck on natasha's thumb, the cold air causing your nipples to peak and it didn't go unnoticed by wanda. she ran her middle finger over the pink buds. "so cute." 

natasha pulled her thumb away, leaving a string of saliva you quickly wiped off with your hand. natasha looked down, examining your chest with a proud smirk. you were so easy. wanda stood in front of you and took your hands in hers. "don't I pick the best gifts." she looked to natasha and back to you. "the moment you climbed out of that car I knew nat would just adore you. even I could just eat you up." 

natasha chuckles a bit and places a hand on her wife's shoulder. "patience, malyshka. we have all night."

tags: @ciaoooooo111 @htinha157 @milflovers4 @artemisarroxvolkov @ssasa-romanoff @angelicbrats @vyvvycg @filmedbyharkness @maleficentdaydreamer @deathbylesbianwitches @r0se16 @angelxblink @pagesofsara @mustangmopar @alterowho

[widowofchaosx-deactivated202604]

The Mafia's Princess

Chapter 1

A year ago, you walked into the wrong bar and into the arms of Wanda and Natasha Romanoff-Maximoff.

Since then, they’ve cleaned up your life, moved you into their mansion, and sworn to keep your hands clean, even if theirs never are.

Word Count: 5K

Masterlist

They saw everything the first night.

Your chipped front steps. The busted camera half-hanging above the doorway. The loose lock you had to jiggle twice before the door would catch.

Wanda noticed the drunk man slumped against the chain-link fence near the sidewalk. Natasha noticed the lack of light in your hallway, and the way you instinctively shifted your body to block the view behind you.

You smiled at them anyway. Soft. A little embarrassed. Told them thank you again for the ride.

And then you walked inside your building, up two flights of stairs, and into a studio apartment that had no right to be called a home.

They didn’t follow you up. But they didn’t leave right away, either.

Natasha stood with her hands in her pockets, eyes scanning the upper windows. Wanda leaned against the car, silent.

“She’s living like that?” Natasha muttered, not really asking.

“Not for long,” Wanda replied.

That was all it took.

By morning, your name was sitting on Maria Hill’s desk.

The background check was thorough. Maria never did anything halfway. She found your college records, two years of decent grades until the financial hold barred you from registering. She found court transcripts from the case against your ex-boyfriend: emotional abuse, threats, the kind of man who isolated you from friends and convinced you it was love. You’d testified against him at twenty-one. Shaky voice. Clear story. He’d gone away. You hadn’t looked back.

You worked two part time jobs. One a shitty diner and the other a bookstore.

She found your parents’ records too. Incarcerated. Drug charges. Neglect.

Maria didn’t ask questions when she sent the file over. She just included a note at the bottom: She’s been fighting for herself a long time. What are we doing with her?

Wanda responded first: We’re protecting her.

And Natasha followed up with: Silently. She doesn’t know anything yet.

The orders were simple after that.

Carol was assigned to watch your street. Not interact. Just monitor. She hated surveillance work, but she didn’t complain.

Clint tapped into your building’s camera system, what little there was. He fixed the feed, rerouted it, replaced the lenses.

By the end of the week, your hallway light worked. The broken mailbox got replaced. The drunk man outside never returned.

You didn’t notice at first. Or maybe you noticed and chose to believe it was coincidence. Your mind was busy with other things, paying rent, keeping your hours at work, trying to stretch groceries over six days.

But still, the changes kept coming.

Your door started locking properly. You told yourself you must have fixed it wrong before.

The leaky window in the corner got sealed shut. You figured the landlord must have finally sent someone during the day.

You never questioned why your neighbor stopped playing loud music at 3 a.m. Or why the man on the second floor who always stared at you in the stairwell moved out overnight.

You didn’t know Natasha had been there.

Didn’t know she’d walked your hallway at two in the morning and decided he wasn’t someone who got to live near you.

You didn’t see Wanda watching the footage of your stairwell every night from her office, tracking who passed by, what time you got home, how many bags you carried.

You didn’t know, because they didn’t want you to.

They didn’t want you scared.

They just wanted you safe.

It took three weeks before you saw them again.

You’d returned to that bar once, maybe twice. Not for the drinks. Not even for the food. Just for the feeling. Something about that night stuck with you. The way they’d spoken to you. The way they’d looked at you, like they already knew you. Like they’d seen everything and still stayed close.

You weren’t used to that.

And then, one Thursday evening, you turned around and found them waiting for you again.

Natasha gave you a half smile. “Still drinking the cheap stuff?”

Wanda tilted her head, soft and warm. “You came back.”

You told yourself you weren’t looking for anything. You told yourself it was just a bar.

But they sat with you anyway. Talked to you again. Laughed when you made a joke. Listened when you vented about work.

You said your boss was getting worse. That he was snapping at staff and making you redo tables that were already clean. That he was standing too close when you leaned over the register.

You were just venting.

But Natasha’s fingers went still on the rim of her glass.

And Wanda didn’t laugh again for the rest of the night.

The next morning, your boss didn’t show up for work.

The staff whispered something about a family emergency. Others said he’d been fired. You never found out the full story. But the new manager was kinder. More respectful. Gave you more hours and apologized for the “previous oversight.”

You told yourself it was coincidence.

You had to.

The alternative would mean you were being watched.

And part of you didn’t want to admit how safe that made you feel.

Because for the first time in years, your shoulders had relaxed. You started walking home slower. You didn’t flinch when someone spoke too loud. You stopped keeping your pepper spray clenched in your fist the whole way to work.

You didn’t realize that safety had a name.

Two of them.

They weren’t always present. But they were constant.

Wanda sent you flowers one week when she heard you’d gotten sick. You never told her your favorite kind, but they were exactly right.

Natasha started picking you up from work when your shift ended late. She never said she was worried. Just said it was on her way.

They never asked to come inside your apartment. Never pushed. Never crossed a line.

But they always lingered just long enough to make sure you got through the door.

You told yourself you were just friends.

You told yourself it was nothing serious.

But then one night, you couldn’t sleep.

Your apartment was too hot. The fan too loud. The silence too big.

And you found yourself scrolling through old texts, rereading the one from Wanda that said let me know when you’re home safe.

You’d never answered it.

So you sent one now: Home.

She replied thirty seconds later: Thank you, detka.

You fell asleep with your phone pressed to your chest.

You never knew Natasha saw the text too. That Wanda read it aloud in their shared bedroom, smiling into her wine.

“She’s already ours,” she’d said.

And Natasha, half-asleep, just murmured, “I know.”

No one told you what was happening.

No one asked for permission.

But the pieces of your life were slowly rearranging, gently, deliberately, by two women who had already decided that your heart belonged in their world.

And someday soon, so would the rest of you.\

______

It wasn’t a question. It was a certainty spoken aloud.

“You should move in with us,” Wanda said one night, as if the thought had been obvious all along.

You were curled on their couch, Natasha’s arm draped lazily over the back, Wanda’s bare feet tucked under a blanket, a half-watched movie flickering on the screen. You blinked at her in surprise.

“What?”

“Move in,” Natasha echoed, like it was no big deal.

“You want me to live with you?”

Wanda tilted her head. “We already worry about you all the time. This would just make it easier.”

You laughed nervously, brushing a hand through your hair. “I’m not exactly low-maintenance.”

“You’re not supposed to be,” Natasha said. “You’re supposed to be safe.”

That part hit harder than you expected. Because you hadn’t felt truly safe in years, not since childhood, not since before everything fractured.

You hadn’t known how much you were craving that word until it was handed to you without condition.

You moved in that weekend.

Your lease wasn’t up, but they paid the remainder without blinking. Natasha loaded your clothes into the trunk of her car while Wanda waited with coffee and a playlist. Your whole life fit into three suitcases and a few reusable grocery bags. You joked about it being depressing.

Natasha said, “It’s perfect.”

Wanda kissed your forehead and said, “You’re all we want.”

The mansion was too big for three people. You got lost your first night. Ended up in a hallway with velvet walls and portraits you didn’t recognize. Natasha found you ten minutes later and didn’t laugh. She just pointed toward a staircase and offered her hand.

“Your room’s wherever we are,” she said.

At first, you thought they meant it romantically. And it was, in a way. But it was also deeper than that. Protective. Fierce. Like the two of them had carved out a part of their world just for you, and they weren’t letting anyone else touch it.

You hadn’t said yes to being their girlfriend yet. But somehow, they already treated you like one.

They waited on you hand and foot. Wanda made you breakfast when you overslept. Natasha fixed the loose strap on your bag instead of letting you replace it. You mentioned a book you liked once, three days later it was on your nightstand in three different editions.

You didn’t know how to ask where they got the money. Or why they never went to work. Or how they managed to spend so much time with you without ever checking their phones.

But you had questions.

You noticed things.

Like how their front gate was always manned by someone in an earpiece. How deliveries never came to the door. How Wanda once opened a package and tucked something metallic into her coat before smiling sweetly at you.

You noticed how Natasha always sat facing the entrance of a restaurant. How her eyes tracked every passerby, every sound. How she checked the mirrors more than once when driving you anywhere.

And you noticed the blood.

Not much. Not often. But enough to ask.

One night, Natasha came home late. You were half-asleep on the couch. She didn’t know you were still awake.

She tried to slip past, but you saw the dark smear on her sleeve. Not red, but close. You sat up with a start.

“Are you okay?”

She paused. Looked down at herself. Then gave you a slow, easy smile.

“Not my blood.”

That didn’t make you feel better.

Wanda came in after her, brushing soot off her palms. “Nothing to worry about, detka. Just a messy meeting.”

You weren’t sure what kind of meetings required gloves and bruises, but they never offered more.

And you didn’t press.

Because when you asked, they’d only ever say the same thing: Don’t worry.

So you tried not to.

You told yourself it was just how they were, mysterious, intense, maybe a little eccentric.

You told yourself it didn’t matter what they did for work, because they treated you better than anyone ever had.

And you told yourself that being loved like this was worth a few unanswered questions.

You officially became their girlfriend a week after moving in.

It wasn’t a grand declaration. No big event. Just three people curled on the couch, again, tangled up in each other.

You’d been teasing Natasha about her music taste. Wanda laughed and said, “You’re lucky she loves you.”

And Natasha had murmured, “Yeah, she is ours now.”

You looked between them, heartbeat stuttering.

Wanda leaned forward, brushing her fingers against your wrist.

“Is that okay?”

You nodded before you could overthink it.

They didn’t celebrate. Didn’t gloat. Just looked at you like they already knew. Like they’d known for a long time.

Natasha whispered, “Good girl,” and kissed your cheek.

That night, you slept between them for the first time. You wore Wanda’s shirt. Natasha kept an arm wrapped tight around your waist.

You felt owned.

But not in a bad way.

You felt chosen.

You stopped worrying so much about their secrets.

You stopped wondering how the groceries always refilled themselves, or why Wanda had three passports in her nightstand, or why Natasha’s closet had more black than a funeral parlor.

You let them love you how they wanted.

And in turn, you gave them all of yourself.

They were gentle with that. Reverent.

But even you couldn’t deny that something darker pulsed underneath. You didn’t have the words for it yet.

You would soon.

But for now, you let it lie.

For now, all you saw were soft hands, warm sheets, and eyes that tracked your every move like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Which, to them, you were.

_______

You weren’t supposed to be home.

That’s what they would say later, voices edged with something like panic under their sharp control. That’s what Carol would mutter under her breath when she stormed past you. That’s what Natasha would growl into a burner phone an hour later.

But you were home.

You’d left the bookstore early. The shipment was delayed, and you’d run out of things to alphabetize. So you slipped out quietly, caught a ride, and wandered back into the mansion with thoughts of surprise kisses and afternoon wine.

You didn’t expect the house to be so quiet.

Too quiet.

You tiptoed in, your shoes barely scuffing the tile. No Wanda humming in the kitchen. No Natasha in the gym. The lights were on, but it felt still. Like the walls were holding their breath.

You followed the low voices before you knew you were doing it.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You didn’t mean to find the door half open. But you did. And what you saw made your blood go cold.

It wasn’t a meeting room. Not exactly. But it functioned like one.

The long dining table had been cleared of everything except a sleek laptop, several black folders, and a handgun.

Maria Hill was at the head of the table, tapping something on her tablet.

Pietro leaned against a far wall, arms crossed, hair tousled like he’d run here.

Bucky sat silently in the corner, too still. Steve was scribbling something on a map. Sam’s phone buzzed once, and he silenced it without looking.

Carol stood like a sentinel at the door. Armed.

And in the center of it all, Wanda and Natasha.

Wanda was calm, speaking low and steady, her hands moving over an aerial photo. Natasha pointed to a red circle, her voice clipped. “We hit this warehouse first. No hesitation. Hill, your people back us from the north. Carol and Bucky clear the second structure.”

“I want a body count,” Wanda added softly. “No one walks out unless I say so.”

You didn’t mean to gasp.

But you did.

And every single head turned toward the door.

The silence that followed was bone-deep.

You couldn’t move.

For a heartbeat, no one did.

Then Natasha was suddenly in front of you.

She didn’t shout. She didn’t scold. She just took your face gently in her hands and murmured, “You shouldn’t be here, detka.”

“I live here,” you whispered, because it was the only thing you could think to say.

Behind her, Wanda was already closing the laptop. Pietro muttered something in Sokovian. Maria sighed and stood.

“Let’s clear the room,” she said.

No one argued.

They filtered out one by one, Carol giving you a long look as she passed. Maria was last, pausing to glance between you and Wanda.

“She deserves the truth,” she said bluntly.

Then she left too.

The door clicked shut.

You were alone with them.

Wanda approached slowly. Natasha didn’t let go of you.

“You’re not scared of us,” Wanda said, voice soft.

You blinked at her, heart pounding. “Should I be?”

“No.” Wanda smiled, a little sad. “But most people would be.”

You looked back and forth between them. “That was a tactical meeting.”

“Yes.”

“And there was a gun on the table.”

“Yes.”

“And Carol had one on her hip.”

“She always does.”

You let that sink in.

Then: “Are you in the mafia?”

Wanda flinched, just barely, but it was enough.

Natasha let out a slow breath and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “We are the mafia, sweetheart.”

Your mouth went dry. “Like bosses?”

“Co-bosses,” Wanda confirmed. “The Romanoff empire. We inherited it from Nat’s mother, Melina.”

“That’s what you do for work?”

They both nodded.

“You kill people?”

There was a longer pause this time.

“We handle things,” Natasha said carefully. “We protect our family. We keep our territory safe.”

“Do you-”

“We never want you to see that side of us,” Wanda cut in, stepping closer. “That’s why we kept it quiet. Because your hands, your heart, they’re still clean. We want them to stay that way.”

“You lied to me.”

“We protected you,” Natasha said firmly. “That’s different.”

You looked down at your hands.

You thought about the soft kisses. The silk sheets. The way they watched you like you hung the moon.

And now, you thought about the blood on Natasha’s sleeve. The way Wanda always knew how to break people without touching them.

You thought about your boss, the one you’d complained about for mistreating you. The one who disappeared the next day.

You thought you were imagining things at the time.

You weren’t.

“You had my boss killed?” you whispered.

They didn’t answer.

Which meant yes.

“You scare me,” you admitted, voice small.

Wanda’s eyes softened. “That’s fair.”

“But you’ve never hurt me.”

Natasha pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Never will.”

“You said I was yours,” you added, tears stinging. “But you kept this from me.”

Wanda nodded slowly. “And we’d do it again. Because we love you. And the world we live in, it stains everything.”

“But I live in it now.”

Natasha’s voice cracked. “Only because we brought you in.”

You shook your head, overwhelmed. “I don’t know what to feel.”

“You don’t have to decide tonight,” Wanda said gently. “But you should know this: no one will ever touch you. No one will ever make you cry again. You’re ours, and there is nothing, we wouldn’t do for you.”

“I believe you,” you said quietly.

Natasha brushed her thumb along your jaw. “Then let us keep you safe.”

You didn’t nod.

But you didn’t pull away either.

That night, you curled between them in bed. Your heart ached with confusion, but your body trusted them.

And maybe that was the most dangerous part.

______

The living room is quiet. Too quiet.

Which, to Carol, usually means one thing: you’re about to do something you shouldn’t.

She doesn't look up when you stroll in from the hallway, barefoot and smug, dressed in one of Wanda’s oversized sweatshirts that hits mid-thigh and nothing else. You hold a bowl of grapes in one hand, tossing one into your mouth like this whole mansion was built just for your entertainment.

It kind of was.

“So,” you say, voice syrupy sweet, “are we gonna do this the fun way or the boring way today?”

Carol doesn’t answer immediately. She’s leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, one boot resting on the other, eyes flicking up only briefly before returning to the blank television screen. She’s wearing her tactical jacket even indoors, like she might get called into a war zone at any moment. With her, that’s never out of the question.

“I’d love to know what you think the fun way looks like,” she mutters.

You grin. “Well, for starters, you stop acting like babysitting me is a death sentence.”

She lets out a dry, humorless sound, maybe a laugh, maybe a sigh. “If it were, I’d already be buried.”

“Please,” you say, plopping down onto the couch like a cat who knows she’s untouchable. “You’d miss me if I disappeared.”

Carol lifts an eyebrow. “That sounds dangerously like a threat.”

You pop another grape in your mouth. “Don’t tempt me.”

Finally, she turns toward you fully, arms still folded. “You know, I had plans today. Real ones. With real weapons and people I could shoot.”

You bat your lashes. “And instead, you get me. Natasha and Wanda’s lovely, charming, perfectly well-behaved girlfriend.”

Carol’s lips twitch. “Girlfriend. Right.”

You freeze slightly, smile faltering. “What does that mean?”

She shrugs. “Just saying, if I had a dollar for every time one of the guards called you their ‘pet’ behind your back,”

You sit up straighter. “Excuse me?”

Carol raises her hands in mock innocence. “Hey, I didn’t start it. I just report what I hear.”

You narrow your eyes. “I am not a pet.”

She nods slowly. “Sure.”

“Don’t ‘sure’ me.”

“Hey, I’m not arguing. Pets are cute. And you bite when you're annoyed.”

You launch a throw pillow at her face. She catches it midair, deadpan. “Is that supposed to prove something?”

“That I could be dangerous.”

She smirks. “So could a chihuahua.”

You scowl, then slump back into the cushions. “Unbelievable. I’m literally being held hostage in a mansion by my two terrifyingly hot girlfriends, and now the guard they assigned me thinks I’m a chihuahua.”

Carol takes a step forward, lowering her voice just slightly. “Look, I don’t call you a pet because I think you’re helpless. I call you a pet because they’ve got you on a goddamn leash. Even you have to see it.”

You bristle. “It’s not like that.”

Carol watches you a moment. “Isn’t it?”

You open your mouth, then close it. You hate that she’s not exactly wrong. But you also hate how she says it like you don’t know.

“I’m not on a leash,” you mutter.

“No. You’re just surrounded by high-tech security, GPS-tracked, and shadowed by guards everywhere you go. Totally normal.”

You glare at her. “You sound jealous.”

She laughs under her breath. “Yeah. That’s it. I’m jealous of the girl who got grounded by mafia bosses for sneaking out to a concert.”

You flinch. “They’re still mad?”

Carol doesn’t answer immediately. She walks over and sits on the edge of the armchair across from you, legs spread, arms resting on her knees.

“They’re not mad,” she says eventually. “They’re scared.”

You blink. That wasn’t what you expected.

She continues, a little quieter now. “Natasha didn’t speak for two hours after she found out. Wanda couldn’t sleep. Do you know how many people we had combing the city that night? Maria had me looking through traffic cams on every street between here and the venue.”

You swallow. Your fingers tighten on the hem of the sweatshirt.

“I didn’t think it was that serious,” you admit.

Carol shrugs. “You never do.”

You sigh and pull your knees to your chest. “I hate being treated like I’m breakable.”

“I get that.” She leans back, her tone softening for the first time. “But you kinda are.”

You look up.

“You’re not trained. You don’t carry. You’re soft. That’s why they love you.” She pauses. “It’s also why I’m stuck here instead of doing something useful.”

You snort. “So now I’m a pet and a burden?”

Carol points at you. “Those are your words. I just think you’re a high-priority liability.”

You throw another pillow.

She catches it again. “I’m just saying, don’t expect me to play Uno with you or paint your nails.”

You smile, leaning back again. “You’d look great in pink glitter.”

“Don’t test me.”

“Will you at least let me go for a walk in the garden?”

“Nope.”

“Ten minutes?”

“No.”

“Five?”

“No.”

You pout. “They’re not even here.”

“And until they are, I’m in charge. And I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

You sigh dramatically and flop down flat on the couch. “I liked you better when you were pretending not to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

You peek up at her.

She shrugs. “If I hated you, I wouldn’t be here.”

You blink. It’s not exactly warm, but coming from Carol, that might as well be a love letter.

“Thank you.”

Carol pretends not to hear you. “So, how long until you try climbing out a window again?”

You groan. “It was one time.”

She smirks. “That you got caught.”

You shake your head, a smile creeping back in despite everything. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re annoying.”

“Guess we’re even.”

Carol glances at her watch. “They’ll be back soon.”

You shift under the blanket. “Good. You’re no fun.”

She cracks a smile. “Tell them I was cruel. Maybe they’ll fire me.”

You grin. “Never. They’d only assign someone worse.”

Carol chuckles under her breath. “God help us all.”

And for a few minutes, the tension fades. You sit in the plush quiet of the living room, two wary animals sharing space but not yet circling.

You're not a pet. Carol's not your babysitter. But for now, you're both exactly where you're supposed to be.

Even if neither of you will admit it out loud.

_____

The moment the front door opens, everything changes.

Carol straightens like she’s been struck by lightning, arms folding behind her back in a soldier’s stance. Her eyes track every movement with precision, jaw tight.

You scramble to your feet just as heavy footsteps approach, echoing across the marble like a countdown.

Wanda enters first.

Her braid is tighter than usual. Her expression is unreadable. Her eyes, however, lock on you the second she steps into the room.

Natasha follows closely behind, sleeves rolled up, knuckles raw. There's a small rip at the shoulder of her jacket and blood, definitely not hers, smeared across the collar.

You freeze where you stand, hands tucked into the sleeves of Wanda’s oversized sweatshirt. For a second, no one speaks.

Then Wanda's voice slices the air. “Did she leave?”

Carol answers instantly, no hesitation. “No, ma’am.”

Natasha tilts her head, scanning the room before settling her gaze on you. “Phone?”

You hold it up. “Charged. On. I didn’t go anywhere.”

Wanda crosses the room in three slow, deliberate steps. “But you wanted to.”

You shift under her gaze. “I stayed.”

“Because Carol wouldn’t let you.” Her voice is quiet, but it curls like smoke in your lungs. “Not because you decided to follow orders.”

“I was following orders,” you say, a little too fast. “I just, I was bored.”

“Bored,” Natasha echoes from behind. “That’s your excuse?”

Wanda steps closer, so close you can feel the weight of her magic humming in the air around you.

“You’re not some teenage girl grounded for missing curfew,” she says, eyes narrowing. “You are a target. A weakness we allow ourselves to have.”

You swallow hard. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You planned to,” Natasha says. She circles around the couch like a predator closing in. “And if we had been ten minutes later, would Carol still be dragging you back by your wrist?”

Carol clears her throat. “I wouldn’t have let her leave. No matter what.”

Wanda nods once, without looking at her. “We know.”

You look between them, heart pounding. “I stayed.”

Wanda’s voice softens, not kind, just quiet. “We can’t afford to gamble with you. Not even for a minute. The last time you disappeared, we thought we lost you. Do you understand what that did to us?”

“I didn’t disappear,” you whisper.

Natasha stops in front of you, hand lifting to gently, but firmly, grip your jaw between her fingers. She tilts your chin up.

“No more games,” she says. “You live in our world now. Which means you live by our rules.”

You nod, slowly. “Okay.”

She studies you a second longer, then lets go.

Wanda finally turns to Carol. “She gave you trouble?”

Carol shrugs with military indifference. “Tried to argue. Tried to charm. Got pouty.”

Natasha lifts a brow. “Anything else?”

Carol hesitates.

You glare. “Don’t.”

“She didn’t like being called your pet,” Carol says with a smirk.

Wanda sighs. “Did you call her that?”

“She was acting like one,” Carol mutters.

Wanda’s tone sharpens. “And what does that make you?”

The air goes still.

Carol stiffens. “Apologies, ma’am.”

Natasha’s voice is calm, but absolute. “She belongs to us. If you disrespect her, you disrespect us.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“We don’t care what you meant,” Wanda cuts in, cold and unwavering. “Watch your tongue.”

Carol nods tightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

You step in before the tension gets worse. “It’s fine. She’s just grumpy.”

Wanda turns her gaze back to you. “You don’t get to decide what’s fine.”

Natasha sits on the arm of the couch, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “Do you think this is a joke?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Then act like it,” she says.

You nod. “Okay.”

Wanda exhales through her nose. “You’re on lockdown. No leaving the house without one of us. No ignoring calls. No games.”

“Even with Carol?”

“Yes,” Natasha answers. “Even with Carol.”

Carol looks less than thrilled.

You can’t help it. “She loves babysitting me.”

Carol shoots you a look. “Sure. Highlight of my day.”

“Then don’t lose me,” you say, flashing a smile.

She groans and mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like, I’m not dying because of this brat.

Wanda doesn’t smile. Neither does Natasha.

You shift uncomfortably. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

Natasha finally stands. “There’s no lightness in this. You are the only thing we care about more than the empire. Do you understand what that means?”

You nod, eyes stinging slightly.

“It means,” Wanda says, walking to you again, “that we will rain fire down on anyone who touches you. And we will rip out the heart of anyone who lets you be harmed, including ourselves. Including you.”

You blink fast. “I wasn’t trying to get hurt.”

“That’s the problem,” Natasha says. “You weren’t trying at all.”

There’s a long pause. The kind that makes your chest ache.

Then Wanda’s arms wrap around you, not soft, not warm. Protective. Fierce.

Natasha joins her on the other side, pulling you in between them like something sacred being locked away in a vault.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t think.”

“No,” Wanda murmurs. “But you will next time.”

You nod into her shoulder.

Because if you don’t, you know exactly what they’re capable of.

And it won’t be pretty.

_______________

Taglist: @nanou4204 @introverted-author

[wandaparadise]

Hangover

Summary: You woke up in a room that isn’t yours, two beautiful women sleeping at your sides and a bunch of memories and promises make you realise love at first sight actually exists. For once, it was a good idea you listened to your friends, right?

Pairing: married! Wandanat x fem! reader

Warnings(+18): alcohol, fingering, oral sex, strap on use, mommy kink, daddy kink, degradation kink, voyeurism, masturbation, pillow humping, praise kink, goofy! Natasha, flirty! Wanda, plot w porn I won’t lie, fluff

you don’t have permission to translate/repost my work anywhere. Please be respectful. Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated. MDNI — Regina

A/N: You guys won’t believe how the story started in my head- IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS. Also I tried to write porn without plot and failed. Here we are tho ♡ hope you like it. The middle pic is from my personal collection 🤪 I miss paradise. Also sassy is what my friends call me hehehe

Main Masterlist

The first thing you did when your mind started waking up was groan.

The room was a little chilly, your body was sore and your head was about to kill you. You kept your eyes closed, trying to decide if you should stay in bed that day or join your friends for breakfast.

You arrived to Cancun three days ago after the endless begging of your friends for you to join them on their little trip. And it was supposed to be healing as you found yourself again. But right then and there, you were regretting joining them for drinks at the hotel’s bar the night before.

You sighed. The headache wouldn’t go if you didn’t take anything. And when you tried to reach for your phone, instead of touching the nightstand, you touched a warm body.

That made you sat up immediately, making you aware of your naked state as the sheets fell into your lap. Your lips parted as you looked to your left.

A brunette was lying on her back, her arm over her head trying to block the sunlight and her other hand below your pillow and her chest covered with the sheets. You moved backwards, only to bump into another body and you gasped.

When you turned to your sight, you found a redhead lying on her chest, her back bare and marked. Her arm placed protectively over your lap.

Your head started spinning a little as the memories of the night before finally flooded your mind as your eyes scanned the room that clearly wasn’t yours.

And your cheeks started burning.

(—)

The day before.

Wanda convinced her wife to have a little getaway. By little she meant a Caribbean paradise to forget about the not-so-little break up with their latest girlfriend.

They were running from their demons. Every inch of their house reminded them of the breakup and when Natasha started spending more time in the office than by her side, Wanda knew they had to leave as far away as they could.

And the redhead wasn’t so sure at first but when her wife kissed her so seductively and whispered the filthiest things in her ear, Natasha couldn’t resist anymore.

Everything was running smoothly. They tanned, read and swam at the pool like it was their second honeymoon. And they fucked like they could pound the memories out of each other. It was working, though.

Until, you walked in front of them at the pool. Wanda’s jaw almost dropped and she swore she heard Natasha growl under her breath but it could’ve been her. It was hard to say.

You looked stunning. A red bikini adorning your body, your hair pulled up, sunglasses resting at the top of your head and a beach bag hanging on your shoulder. And you stopped before them, turning around when someone called your name and Wanda’s hopes died when a tall blond man approached you.

He hugged you and your body relaxed under his touch. And Wanda couldn’t help when she sighed and turned to look at Natasha. But her wife was still looking at you, and if it wasn’t for her sunglasses, Wanda would’ve noticed the way Natasha’s eyes darkened at your sight.

Then the redhead furrowed her brows, making Wanda look back at you. You were giggling and trying to push away the man, as he took away your bag and started fighting with you.

Wanda jumped on ready to help you but Natasha stopped her. You kept laughing, pushing him away as he kept threatening to push you to the pool.

“Luke, stop!” you laughed and your voice was like music to their ears.

Were your moans as sweet as your laughter? Or did your voice drop lower when you felt needy?

But Wanda’s trail of thoughts was interrupted with your scream and a splash, flinching a little when water reached her and she gasped when you weren’t coming out of the water.

Natasha reacted first, jumping to the pool instantly and helping you out. You took a deep breath, your cheeks instantly flushed as Natasha held your hips protectively.

You brushed your hair back. Your eyes meeting a pair of unfamiliar green eyes looking at you worried. For a moment, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. And your lips parted to talk but you were sure you forgot your own name.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked softly, not quite ready to let you go and unaware of your flustered state.

“Come on, sassy, stop pretending you don’t know how to swim” Luke interrupted the moment and you weren’t sure who growled, you or the redhead.

You turned to glare at him and flipped him off, only making him laugh and then you looked back at the redhead.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you” you said softly and Natasha nodded.

The redhead helped you out of the pool and you offered her your hand to help her out, ignoring the teasing tickles from your best friend.

Your breath faltered when you took in the redhead’s image. She was wearing a black bikini top and a pair of black shorts. But that wasn’t what made you stop breathing, it was her toned abdomen and her strong arms that made you forget about everything else.

Luke pinched your side, offering you a teasing grin and you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm.

“Hey! Don’t be so mean” he grunted, placing a hand over his burning skin where your punch landed and you smacked him again “Stop!”

“That’s for pushing me, vipes” you huffed and he wrapped his arms around you, placing a soft kiss on your cheek “I’ll deal with you later” you muttered and faced the redhead again, that was now drying herself.

In that moment you noticed the brunette that was lying next to her and your mouth watered at her sight. She was wearing a mustard bikini, long legs perfectly tanned and a collarbone that was challenging you to touch just to find out if it was as sharp as it looked. She smiled at you softly and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red.

“I- we are sorry” you said softly, your eyes dancing in between them and you offered the redhead a grateful smile “Thank you for saving me, that was really kind”

“Yeah, saving you from your own stupidity” Luke teased but regretted it when both women glared at him as if they were trying to kill him on spot.

“Yeah, that too” you chuckled, a little amused that they made Luke squirm a little “But really, thank you”

It was like you weren’t ready to go, glued on your spot even when Luke was trying to make you keep walking. But you would’ve done anything to hear the redhead’s voice again and wondering how the brunette sounded.

And as if they could hear your thoughts, both smiled softly at you.

“It was nothing, just…” Natasha glanced at Luke for a moment and her eyes softened when meeting yours “be careful. It doesn’t matter if you know how to swim, games like that could end up badly”

Luke huffed like a scolded child behind you and you nudged him with your elbow making him yelp as you smiled and nodded.

“Tasha, don’t be so hard on them” Wanda scolded her wife softly and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “Glad you are okay, sweetheart”

Your breath hitched at the sound of the brunette’s voice. It was sweet and alluring. You would even dare to say motherly in a way that electrified your skin and made your knees feel weak.

Luke noticed your state. He could almost see the moment your brain malfunction and he smirked. As much as both women made clear they didn’t like him, his little game turned out better than he imagined. Still, he cleared his throat and you flinched.

“Yeah, I- huh, thank you again” you finally said, trying to remember how to breathe and waved at them “Sorry for the trouble and I hope you keep having a good time”

You started walking but Luke stood still, watching you with an amused smirk and you rolled your eyes. You grabbed him by the wrist, trying to ignore the curious eyes of the women and fighting to make him move.

“Vipes, I swear to god-“ you grunted and he chuckled, starting to move as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Come on, sassy. I have a story to tell” he laughed and you pushed him away.

Both women watched you leave as you bickered with him. And Natasha almost jumped again when you were close to falling but this time Luke grabbed you by the waist and you started smacking his arm but giggled.

“Do you think they-“ Wanda started and Natasha looked at her wife.

“I don’t think so, dorogaya” Natasha sighed and laid down, putting her sunglasses back on “I hope not”

“You hope?” Wanda smirked and Natasha scoffed “Don’t be like that, moya lyubov’. We are on the same team here” the brunette smacked her wife’s thigh playfully.

Natasha chuckled, wrapping her arms around her wife and pulling her over her lap. She kissed Wanda’s neck as Wanda tried to break free because Natasha was too cold for her hot skin.

“I know we are, but I’m not so sure we should be thinking that way” Natasha said softly and Wanda turned to look at her, letting her body curl over Natasha’s and pecking her lips softly.

“Maybe that’s what we need, Tasha”

They both looked at you. You were now at the other end of the pool, lying down as the sun kissed your skin with your arms folded behind your head. Luke was standing before you and telling your two other friends about what happened, but their eyes were fixed on you.

“Maybe, but she’s gone now, Wands” Natasha said softly. She kissed Wanda’s forehead and patted her side as she offered her wife a loving smile “But I can get creative tonight”

Wanda laughed and kissed Natasha. At the end of the day, the redhead was her true partner in crime. The rest of the world was just a fantasy.

(—)

“Do I really have to go? I’m tired” you whined, letting yourself fall onto the mattress as Maddison threw you a dress “Mads”

“None of that, baby girl, it’s Friday night” she shrugged and looked at you “Just tonight, the rest of the week you can ignore our pleads”

You sat straight and snorted “You always say that and for some reason, it keeps happening”

But you complied. Anything to keep your mind away from home or away from the women that saved your life that day. Mostly them.

They were extremely hot, even Luke made an effort to state that when he was telling the story to Noah and Maddison. And you felt their gazes more than once during the day at the pool, or maybe you just imagined that since you wished for them to keep noticing you.

You weren’t sure, though. By the way they talked, at least the little you heard, they seemed to be married but it wouldn’t be the first time you mistaken friends for lovers. You could never trust your gaydar.

So a night out to clear your mind sounded marvellous. It was that or staying at your room as your mind ran over and over again their faces like a prayer.

You started dressing yourself, ignoring Maddison when she called you a good girl and after doing your makeup, both of you left your room.

The boys were already waiting for you at the hotel’s bar since you weren’t in the mood to go full nightclubbing and that was the best you could offer. And they agreed just because if they got you tipsy enough, maybe you would be the one wanting to change scenarios.

You greeted both and sat on a barstool next to Luke that was grinning at you mischievously. You squinted your eyes as he wiggled his brows and then decided it was better if you didn’t know.

You asked the bartender for a piña colada and Luke groaned.

“Dude, you are going soft” he glared at you and changed your order for something stronger a Moscow Mule.

“No, you are trying to kill me” you scoffed and Luke laughed “Vodka isn’t my cup of tea, vipes”

“Tonight it is” he shrugged and leaned over the counter “Your girlfriends are here, by the way”

At that, you straightened your back and Luke started laughing louder. You pushed him away when he tried to hug you and grunted.

“Shut up” your cheeks flushed and you thanked the bartender when he placed your drink before you and gave a long sip “They are not my girlfriends”

“But you wish they were” he teased, nudging your side playfully.

“She wishes what?” Noah chimed in, his arms wrapped around Maddison’s waist and you groaned, hiding your face in between your hands.

“That the hot women from earlier were her girlfriends or at least one of them. Hard to tell if they are together” Luke said tapping his chin in a thoughtful manner and you punched him.

“Are they here?” Mads asked, her eyes already scanning the place and you closed your eyes.

Ever since you broke up with your ex, your friends were firm believers that the only way out of your dark tunnel was a quick fuck. Noah and Luke were insufferable about it but when Maddison chimed in, it only got worse.

And you knew they were trying to cheer you up. After all, they were the ones collecting the pieces of your broken heart. But no one was interesting enough for you to really pay attention until that day.

You didn’t even know their names and maybe it was for the best. But both women were extremely attractive, it wasn’t even fair to be that hot. Physically should be impossible and yet, they were goddesses walking down on earth.

Luke told the story, emphasising on the fact that you were flustered when you talked to them and they pushed all day for you to talk to them. You stayed firm, though, even if on the inside you wanted to do it.

But it was like tossing a coin. They could be married or just friends or worst case scenario they were straight. Either way, you would’ve ended up making a fool of yourself and you weren’t ready for that hit.

“Yeah, corner booth on your right” Luke smirked and Noah and Maddison turned their faces in the most obvious way they could.

You gulped the rest of your drink and ordered another one. They were as embarrassing as any parent could be. Well no, they were worse.

“Dude, they are one hundred percent lesbians” Noah said looking at you and you side eyed him “Mads is the only straight woman I believe is that beautiful, the rest are certainly lesbians”

“Nice wording, baby” Maddison kissed his cheek and he smiled proudly “But he is right. And they make me wish I was into women, like damn”

You sighed, loudly and dramatically. You were delusional but your friends always fuelled that side of you and this time you weren’t falling for it.

“Well, then they are married. Cheers to that” you said raising your glass and Luke patted your shoulder “Do not hit on me, Lucas”

He chuckled “I was gonna say, you could always try your shot”

You gulped again your drink, leaving your glass half empty and shook your head as you laughed.

“Last time you told me that, I found my best friend” Maddison laughed at that and cheered with you “And I’m not replacing her”

The three of them kept teasing you, trying to encourage you to go and talk to them but that only made you keep drinking. And maybe alcohol wasn’t the best solution for your broken heart, the teasing or the need that was increasing between your legs every time you glanced at them, but the alcohol was making it bearable.

In the middle of your fourth drink, the bartender pushed a new drink and you looked at him confused. It was a different drink, the glass was garnished with lipstick and you raised a brow.

“This cocktail is called ‘The Flirt’” he explained with a soft smile, gaining the attention of your friends as they turned to look at him with curious eyes “Tequila, brandy, cranberry juice and lime juice” he continued, focusing on you as you stared at the drink like it held all the answers in the world “From the ladies over there”

Your cheeks started burning as Noah and Luke high five and Maddison started laughing. The bartender offered you a friendly look but it didn’t help to soothe your nerves and you tried to give it back.

“I don’t think this is a good idea” you said shyly, finishing your drink and Luke wrapped his arm around your shoulder “Don’t”

“Sassy, it’s just a drink not a marriage proposal” he said softly, restraining himself from teasing you. He sniffed the drink and looked at the bartender “I want one, smells nice. Please”

“Take mine” you grunted and Luke ignored you, pleading silently to the bartender to go and he nodded “Lucas”

“No, we are not doing this” he said firmly and you turned to look at him “I know we tease you a lot but this is a sign, (Y/N)” you groaned and started shaking your head “Yes, it is. Take the drink and just go and thank them. If they were just being nice with you, you can come back and we all go to bed” Noah smacked the back of his head but Luke remained unbothered, almond eyes only focused on you and smiling softly “And I will do whatever you want for a month”

“You really want me to go over there, huh?” you giggled softly and his smile widened.

“It’s been six months, sassy girl” he pecked your cheek “Go and if you don’t like them, look at me and I will go and pretend I’m your jealous boyfriend”

You laughed and rolled your eyes playfully “You always want to play that role” he shrugged and you sighed “Fine, but I will make you suffer for a month”

You stood up and took the drink. Your hand slightly shaking as you took a deep breath. It felt like you even forgot how to flirt, you were rusty after five years of being in a relationship.

“Go, get ‘em tiger” he patted your shoulder and you sighed.

(—)

Surprisingly, the drink was Natasha’s idea.

But she had to do something because it couldn’t be a coincidence that they ran into you two times that day after not seeing you the whole week. And Wanda also kept throwing stealthy glances at you, although she wasn’t as subtle as she think she was. Not for Natasha, at least.

And if it went wrong, Natasha could blame it on the alcohol later. Even when she knew how to handle her vodka. But the smile of her wife was priceless when she did the request to a waiter, so it really was worth the trouble.

But Wanda’s smile faded when she watched you struggle. Your blond friend was telling you something, the bartender was looking at you trying to decide what to do and your other two friends were immersed in their own world.

You looked conflicted.

“I think we over did it, moya lyubov’” Wanda looked at Natasha nervously, biting her lip and feeling her heart race.

The redhead extended her arm and Wanda took her hand seeking comfort. And there wasn’t any other thing that could soothe her worries like Natasha’s reassuring smile.

“Well, in that case we tried and I keep my word on getting creative tonight” Wanda giggled and Natasha’s smile widened “There you are, dorogaya”

“Yeah, you are right. Maybe my gaydar is broken” Wanda sighed, shrugging and Natasha laughed.

“Or maybe she’s not into us, Wands” Natasha teased and her wife offered her an offended look “Well, into me. My wife is extremely hot”

“Hey now! My wife is hotter” Wanda grinned and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “But really, it’s okay. At least she got a free drink and…”

Natasha’s eyes flicked your way and her heart skipped a beat. You were now walking towards them, stumbling a little but with the drink on your hand. And for a second, Natasha thought you were going to throw the drink to them. But when her eyes met yours, you smiled softly and she forgot how to breathe.

“Dorogaya”

“So I think we could just close the tab and…”

“Wands”

“I really don’t mind. In fact, I think I’m feeling tired. Aren’t you…”

“Wanda!” Natasha said louder and Wanda flinched, furrowing her brows a little hurt because her wife never raised her voice. At least not to Wanda “I’m sorry, my love, but look”

Wanda then looked your way. You were closer, walking too slow for Natasha’s liking but she was enjoying the view. And Wanda’s breath faltered as she squeezed Natasha’s hand tightly and ignored when her wife grunted.

Both looked at you in awe when you stood before them. The crimson dress that you were wearing made you look like an angel of death. Their deaths. Your hair was down, your collarbone adorned with a cute silver necklace and you were wearing rings.

“Hey” you said shyly “Thank you for the drink. Seems like I owe you big time now” you joked, trying to keep your nerves in check even when the alcohol was numbing you and still your skin was buzzing.

Natasha’s jaw was one movement away from dropping, you couldn’t look hotter even if you wanted to. It should be illegal or something. And Wanda wasn’t so sure about her own name, afraid of talking and making a fool of herself.

They were never shy around women. Not when they were single and specially not since they were married. Both were natural flirts, almost bordering arrogance when it came to their looks. They knew they were hot, they knew they were charming, they were overly-confident with their skills in specially in bed.

And yet, in that exact moment, they both forgot how to talk.

On your end, the silence stretched too quickly. It was barely two minutes, but your confidence shattered. What if they didn’t mean to send you the drink? What if it was meant for someone else? What if they didn’t even want you there?

You bit your lip nervously, taking a step back and looking over your shoulder. Luke nodded and said something to Noah and Maddison, and started to walk towards you.

And Wanda finally snapped out of her own thoughts.

“Hey, sweetheart” she smiled softly and her voice electrified your skin “Did you like the drink?”

Wanda kicked Natasha under the table, not daring to look away from you and her wife growled but it was enough for her to react.

“I- well I haven’t…” your cheeks flushed and you shifted your weight nervously.

“Why don’t you join us for that drink?” Natasha said sliding over the round booth to sit closer to Wanda and gave you space “Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

There was a hopeful edge on Natasha’s voice and your legs almost failed you because she sounded so sweet. But before you could accept, Luke’s arm wrapped around you protectively.

“What are you doing, baby?”

Wanda threw a ‘I told you so’ look to her wife. Natasha’s jaw clenched at the sight of the blond man. Your cheeks were burning and you were wishing for the earth to swallow you up. The only one that was grinning and in control was Luke; the one person that didn’t belong there.

In his defence, you gave him the signal.

You took a deep breath and turned to look at him, trying to silently ask him to go but Luke was dumb when he wanted.

“Why don’t you go with Noah and Mads, hm?” you asked softly and he frowned.

“What? But you…”

“You heard me, vipes” you cleared your throat, your eyes wide opened as you tried to signal him to get on track. But you could see how slowly the dots were connecting “Lucas!”

You smacked his arm and he flinched. And finally, he reacted. Luke grinned and nodded, you could just wish he didn’t look that obvious to the beautiful women behind you as much as he did to you.

“Oh, yeah. Huh” he scratched the back of his neck and looked over you “Ladies, I think I never apologised. Sorry for the disturbance earlier and for…” you pinched his arm subtly and he grimaced “Yeah, for earlier. I’ll see you later, sassy” he leaned and pecked your cheek.

Natasha watched him leave and she smiled triumphantly to her wife. The redhead loved being right, she loved even more proving her wife wrong even when that got her in trouble. It was always worth it.

And she told herself as much when Wanda nudged her forcefully with her elbow and smiled at you with innocent eyes when you turned to look at them.

Wanda Maximoff was the devil in disguise and no one but Natasha knew that.

“Sorry about that, he just… well, it doesn’t matter” you bit your lip nervously, trying to gather your thoughts “So may I sit or should I just…”

“Please, I promise we don’t bite” Wanda said cheerfully “Unless you are into that, in that case we very much bite”

Natasha looked at her wife incredulously. Wanda only got that chatty when she was nervous, like it was her first time interacting with a woman and if they wanted a chance with you, Wanda needed to get it together.

But you chuckled and sat on the spot Natasha left you.

“I guess it depends on who is biting, so we will see” you smiled softly, gaining confidence from god knows where but it was working.

“So sassy? Is that your name?” Natasha said casually, taking a sip of her drink and your cheeks flushed.

You were there already flirting with them and you didn’t even know their names nor they knew yours. But the redhead was smooth, you gave her that.

“God no” you giggled and Natasha almost choked on her drink, could you get even cuter? “Vipes calls me by my gamertag. I mean Luke, I also call him by his gamertag” you babbled and Natasha held back an amused smirk.

You were just like her wife. Well, Wanda barely got that nervous so it was almost your fault that she was in that state. But that seemed to be your usual. And it made sense.

If Natasha had to guess, you probably were in your mid twenties. At least ten years younger than them. You seemed to come from a good family, nice manners and probably you had siblings based on the way you treated your friend. Long-term relationships were your thing, so a one night stand was barely an option and still, you were there with no expectations.

That was the redhead’s final assessment. And she was right. Natasha Romanoff was always right.

“Gamertag?” Wanda tilted her head slightly and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red, making Wanda’s curiosity spike even more.

You probably sounded like a total nerd. Or that’s what you believed while Wanda was genuinely curious. Natasha was the gamer, not her.

“Yes, dorogaya. Gamertag, you know the name you use online when you play?” Natasha explained sweetly and Wanda raised a brow, clueless “Like mine? Black Widow?”

“Oh, I see” she giggled and looked back at you “You’ll have to forgive me, perhaps I’m old” her cheeks flushed and you wanted to tell her you probably looked like trash next to her, that there was no way she was that old. But you bit the inside of your cheek nervously “And sassy is yours?”

“Something like that but my name is (Y/N)” you hummed and took a sip of your drink to soothe your nerves “And do you have names or should I just call you hottie one and hottie two?” your tongue ran before you could stop yourself and your eyes widened, coughing and not sure where to focus “I mean- god, I’m so sorry. I take it back. No, I mean I don’t take it back. You guys are hot but I say that respectfully and I didn’t want to…”

Natasha grabbed your hand and gave you a gentle squeeze, making you look at them. They were smiling a little amused but they weren’t judging. You bit your lip nervously, embracing the warmth of Natasha’s touch as she rubbed tender circles on the back of your hand.

“Thank you for the compliment, malyshka” Natasha started softly, as if she was trying to be careful of not scaring you away “I’m Natasha and this is my wife, Wanda”

“And I gotta say, you have a very cute name” Wanda added, smiling at you and almost climbing Natasha’s lap just to be closer to you because her wife got to touch you first and the brunette was competitive.

“You guys do too” you nodded, downing half the drink before you could keep talking and you made a bigger fool of yourself “You also make a lovely couple”

And they did. They truly did. It shouldn’t be fair that two women that hot were together but life was never fair. And they looked like a match made in heaven, like two pieces that belonged together perfectly. It was written all over them.

But knowing that didn’t keep you from feeling a little disappointed because the chances of them looking for a third were very thin.

“Oh, thank you. That’s really sweet, isn’t it moya lyubov’?” Wanda smiled at her wife and Natasha hummed, her eyes fixed on you even when her wife kissed her cheek.

“Is that… Russian or something?” you asked curiously and Natasha offered you a proud smile, one that made your heart flutter.

“It is. Good job, malyshka” Natasha praised and your arousal pooled between your legs “Wanda called my love and I just called you little one” she explained but you were half listening. You nodded but you were squeezing your legs thanks to the praise and the pet name, what was wrong with you?

“I’m not that little” you murmured and Wanda giggled “I’m twenty five”

“It’s not like that, sweetheart” Wanda explained with a soft smile “Although, for us you are little. In a cute way and maybe we are just older” your lips parted to ask but she tutted “It’s rude to ask a lady her age”

“She’s thirty five, I’m thirty seven” Natasha rolled her eyes playfully and Wanda smacked her arm. You giggled “You act like you are eighty or something, Maximoff”

“Says the woman that keeps complaining about her knee” Wanda scoffed and winked at you.

Their silly banter was refreshing. You weren’t sure how long they’ve been together but the way they acted around each other was something you wished you would be able to find one day. Being around someone that long for them to be your best friend and your lover.

“So, malyshka, what brings you here? To Cancun, I mean” Natasha asked grinning at you.

“For that, I think I’ll need another drink” you said shyly.

“As you wish” Natasha called a waiter over.

And you tried to collect your thoughts and feelings. It was a terrible idea to talk about your ex when you were trying to flirt with them. But they asked and you couldn’t find in yourself to lie, not to them.

Their beauty made you nervous and made your whole body buzz with need. But both women also looked at you as if they could catch you when you fell, like they would never judge.

The real question was: could you trust them?

(—)

None of you were sure how long you’ve been hanging in that booth. But the more you talked to them, the more comfortable you felt.

The moment you saw Wanda, you knew she was a sweet person. There was a light around her that was compelling, that called you without trying. But getting to know her was a full experience. The brunette was well educated, loved reading, she was the reason Natasha didn’t get a dog because she was more of a plant person and she volunteered in a music center by giving piano lessons for children that couldn’t afford them.

She was a true angel. Plus, you now were sure about her motherly energy.

Natasha, on the other hand, at first seemed like a little rigid. She teased, she flirted, but it was like Natasha was holding back. You saw the moment the redhead started easing up to you, how her body relaxed and her smile was more genuine.

She turned out to be hilarious, a goofy woman that loved pushing her wife’s buttons even when that got her in trouble, a huge protective energy and incredibly intelligent.

Natasha read you like an open book, every question she asked was precise as if she already knew the answer and wanted to confirm it. But it made sense, she ran her own security company, she needed to know how to read people. It was impressive nevertheless, because she was a software engineer and you always pictured people like that having a little more trouble when mingling.

Both were amazing and you weren’t sure if you wanted to be with them or be like them. Because together, they looked like a solid couple that knew each other better than they knew themselves.

Wanda would scrunch her nose when she didn’t understand a small thing and Natasha would be there explaining patiently to her wife in words that were more familiar to her. Natasha would tense up when a question took her by surprise and Wanda would caress her arm and lock her fingers with her wife’s.

And you wished you could be jealous, even if you didn’t know of who or what, but it wasn’t coming. Because they were also making sure to wrap you in their own bubble.

They listened to you when you talked about the real reason you were there and their eyes softened as if they were going through the same thing. Wanda asked about your work and listened carefully. Natasha asked about your goals and even offered to help if you were comfortable with.

You weren’t sure how they kept pulling you closer. Maybe it was the way Natasha kept ordering for you, not before checking in and asking if you needed something else. Maybe it was the way Wanda smiled at you softly when she noticed you were getting nervous and called you sweet names.

Both wrapped you in comfort and security. Drawing lines around you that they kept asking silently if you were okay with them crossing. Not pushing, only patience. And you weren’t sure where it was going, because they were taking their time, but you wouldn’t mind if it ended up with them being just friends. As long as you got to keep them by your side, it seemed worthy.

Then, Wanda made it very clear for you. Maybe it was the alcohol running through her veins, maybe it was her eagerness or maybe it was her impatience. But she made the effort to be transparent with you. No more dancing around.

“Has anyone told you how pretty you are?” Wanda asked with a flirty smirk, her chin resting on her fist as her other hand played with the straw of her drink.

Your cheeks started to burn. It wasn’t only the compliment, it was the way she was looking at you with hunger but mostly with genuine adoration.

They just met you. But just like you found them extremely alluring, they both were buzzing with need to have you in more ways they wanted to admit. Because the moment you sat down, it felt like a missing piece was found. The real one, not their fail attempts to fill the void.

You looked at Natasha, almost expecting her to scold her wife for being so bold. But the redhead was looking at you the same way as Wanda.

“I- well, I guess? I’m not sure” you stuttered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and giving a sip to what seemed to be your tenth drink “but that’s fine. Not a big fan of feeding my ego”

Wanda giggled, a sound that was enchanting like a siren voice and your heart skipped a beat.

“Pretty and cute. I think you should feed that ego” Wanda shrugged, leaning back and crossing her legs as she played with a lock of her hair “After all, it’s true. Don’t you think, Tasha?”

Your eyes landed on Natasha. A little nervous because her wife was blunt with you and you were afraid of flirting back. Not when you weren’t sure about their whole dynamic.

But Natasha hummed, green eyes twinkling with amusement and something you were afraid to name. The redhead leaned closer and her hand landed on your knee, her grin widened when you squeezed your legs together as her touch electrified your skin.

“Wanda is right, malyshka” Natasha smiled and gave you a gentle squeeze before leaning back and placed her other hand on Wanda’s thigh “Not only is she always right” Wanda hummed proudly and you giggled “but it’s true. You are really pretty” her eyes danced over your face, stopping on your lips before they kept going down and your skin started burning “cute” the redhead bit her lip and looked back to your eyes “hot, I would dare to say. And incredibly smart. We like smart, don’t we dorogaya?”

You looked at Wanda. The brunette was also checking you out, biting her index finger as her eyes roamed your body. They weren’t even assessing you. No, they were enjoying the view. Like admiring a painting they were ready to buy and hang to look pretty at their house.

You almost whimpered. Arousal pooling between your legs and your fingers twitching with need. You wanted to blame the alcohol for your horny state, but it was all their doing. Everything about them was a turn on and they hadn’t even touched you.

And your body buzz with excitement at the thought of they doing it because if they could do that much without their touch, what would happen when they did?

“Very much. It’s why a fell in love with you” Wanda looked at Natasha and they leaned closer. Closing the gap between them, lips locking in the steamiest kiss you had ever witnessed or had.

You bit your lip, moving your leg impatiently and tugging the hem of your dress. But then, everything stopped because a moan escaped your lips before you could even process it.

Natasha and Wanda broke the kiss, sharing a knowing look that you didn’t see because now you were downing the rest of your drink and fighting with the ice cubes as if they could cool down your burning cheeks.

“Everything okay, malyshka?” Natasha smirked, watching you try to merge with your glass and when it didn’t work you called over a waiter.

Your ears reddened, feeling the amused gazes of the women as you tried to order a drink. The waiter glanced at Natasha, as if he was asking permission since she had been ordering for you all night. The redhead nodded, her eyes barely leaving you and when you turned to look at them you started coughing.

“Easy there, sweetheart” Wanda said with faux worry and leaned to grab your hand. You nodded, clearing your throat and trying to smile at them “Well, Natasha asked you a question. Won’t you answer? It’s rude to ignore”

Wanda ignored the small pinch her wife gave her. The brunette’s eyes darkened with more hunger as you squirmed on your seat. You weren’t nervous. Well, not as much as you were turned on by her tone. It was deliberate and commanding. And when Natasha looked at you, she saw desire written all over your face.

“I- yes. Sorry” you managed to say and looked at Natasha “Everything is okay, Natasha. Thank you for asking” you glanced at Wanda for a moment, trying to see if she was pleased but when she didn’t move or say anything you looked back to Natasha “and sorry for ignoring you when you asked”

It should’ve been humiliating or that’s what you thought trying to make sense of the tingle in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t find in yourself to care about it. Not when your heart was seeking approval from them.

The redhead offered you a proud smile and nodded, but you almost moaned again when Wanda talked.

“Good girl. Such good manners” you held back a whimper as Wanda started playing with Natasha’s hair. You thanked the waiter for the drink and Wanda stopped him before he could leave “Perhaps we should close our tab, moya lyubov’”

But she wasn’t looking at Natasha, Wanda was looking at you and you choked mid-drink. You started coughing again and Wanda smiled with amusement.

“Yes, please. It’s time for us to go” Natasha said to the waiter and he nodded, excusing himself to get the receipt.

You took a deep breath and started to slide off the booth. Both women looked at you confused as you stood up and smiled at them, opening your small purse and searching for cash.

“I guess that’s my queue to leave. Thank you both for the lovely night” you said softly, pulling out some money and offering it to Natasha that looked at you like you just insulted her “It’s not much but I can’t let you pay for all my drinks” you explained, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as your other hand trembled nervously as if the money felt heavy on your palm.

“That’s not necessary, it was my pleasure” Natasha smiled, her eyes now unreadable as she looked at you and you bit your lip.

You were too focused on her to notice when Wanda found her way out of the booth and stood next you. But the warmth of her hand startled you for a moment. You looked at her, her hand still tender over your arm as she caressed you and you eased up.

“We are not ready to let you go just yet” Wanda said softly, her eyes flicking for a second to your lips and she looked back at you when she caressed your cheek with the back of her fingers and you leaned into her touch without fully realising it “Such a pretty girl. So reacting”

Natasha appeared behind Wanda, arms instantly wrapped around her wife’s waist as she rested her chin over her shoulder and smiled at you.

“We were hoping for you to join us in our room” you looked at her in awe and for a moment, Natasha doubted herself but she forced herself to keep going “It’s okay if you don’t want to or you are uncomfortable. It’s just that booth is bad for my back and I’m sick of these clothes”

“I- I don’t want to impose myself” you stuttered, stepping back and regretting it when you lost Wanda’s touch “I’m sure you have more interesting things to do than entertain me” you forced a laugh but they both looked at you even more confused.

“Yeah, we have more interesting things to do with you” Wanda said closing the gap between you again and she grabbed your hand, giving you a gently squeeze and you relaxed “But if you don’t want to, we will understand”

“Just don’t leave because you think we don’t like you” Natasha added with a reassuring smile and you bit down your lip.

It was a bad idea. You started liking them way too much and that could only end badly. At least, that’s what you were trying to convince yourself about. But your mind was already lost in both pair of green eyes that held all the promises in the world and were ready to give you the universe if you asked. For a night, but it sounded worthy.

“Are you guys sure? I really don’t want to…”

“Don’t finish that sentence, malyshka” Natasha said a little more firmly, a tone that told you there was no room for argument “We are sure. What about you?”

“Yeah. Fine, let’s do it” you sighed and both smiled proudly, like using your words was all they need “Let me go tell my friends”

Wanda stopped you before you could walk, her grip more firm as a silent command and you couldn’t fully understand why your body kept reacting to every order they gave you. Their words told you were free, the commands were silent but not pushy but you weren’t so sure now you wanted that freedom. Your body wanted to follow commands, would your mind like that too?

“I’m sure you can text them, right?” Wanda said softly and you tilted your head slightly “My feet are killing me, sweetheart” she explained and you smiled shyly.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. I’ll text Luke” you said pulling out your phone and they smiled proudly again, making your heart fluttered with satisfaction.

“Well, I guess then we go now” Natasha said softly and hoisted Wanda in her arms and the brunette gasped “for your feet, dorogaya”

“Always my hero” Wanda pecked her lips and then winked at you “Lead the way, pretty girl”

Your breath hitched and your heart raced. But you started walking. If it ended in tears, you would gaslight yourself into thinking it was the alcohol’s fault.

(—)

Natasha and Wanda’s room was on the top floor. The one reserved for members. And when they opened the door to their suite, you wondered once again how rich they were.

They dressed, looked and talked expensive. Did they taste the same?

And maybe Natasha diminish her company, making it sound like it was a small business but standing at the entrance of that big room was telling you otherwise.

“Oh, sweetheart, apologies for the mess” Wanda said softly next to you once Natasha put her down “Natasha forgets to clean after herself”

Natasha snorted, already standing next to bed and picking the phone “Yeah, me. Because I wear these” she said amused, showing her wife a red thong and your cheeks flushed when Natasha winked at you “Yeah, good night. I would like to order room service?”

Wanda approached her wife and smacked her arm as Natasha played around when Wanda tried to snatch the thong out of her hands. It was impressive the way her voice didn’t waver while doing so, like nothing was going on even when her wife was threatening to kill her silently.

You giggled softly, not able to look away. And Wanda finally snatched the piece, although something told you Natasha let her win.

The brunette turned to look at you as her wife grinned behind her making you laugh a little, but Wanda’s stare made you stop and you pursed your lips. She approached you and your feet almost moved to close the gap, Wanda was faster though.

Her index finger curled beneath your chin and lifted it up. Your cheeks blushed as green eyes studied you carefully.

“What’s so funny, sweetheart?” her voice was dripping with sweetness. A trap wrapped in silk and you shook your head “Nothing? Hm, interesting”

You bit your lip nervously, playing with your fingers as you tried to look down but Wanda wasn’t letting you. The brunette was enjoying every delicious second of you squirming under her gaze.

And maybe now the alcohol was doing the trick because you could swore Wanda was leaning closer to you, her breath colliding against your face with a mix of cherry and vodka. Or maybe it was you the one that was being pulled closer, you couldn’t tell.

Your lips brushed against each other’s, you closed your eyes as your body buzzed with excitement and then Natasha broke the spell.

“Maximoff, leave her alone” Natasha said wrapping her arms around Wanda from behind.

For a second you were scared but when your eyes met the redhead’s she was amused and her eyes were darkened. She whispered something in Wanda’s ear, her eyes not daring to leave you and then it was Wanda’s turn to blush and bite her lower lip.

“Fine, I’ll behave” Wanda sighed finally and broke the embrace.

She started cleaning a little. It was true, the mess was hers but Natasha was the one to blame for that because she made it almost impossible for her wife to pick something when the redhead kept threatening her to rip it off her body.

The reason they were out was to get you out of their minds, to focus on each other and not the need of having you. And when you walked in, it was like a divine sign. Or at least that’s what Wanda said.

Natasha placed a tender hand over your hip and your breath hitched with the firmness of her touch. You wondered if she was always so gentle or if she was holding back to not scare you away.

“I hope you don’t mind” she started as her other hand cradled your jaw and you leaned into her touch. She offered you a soft smile even when you saw a flash of fear in her eyes for a moment “I ordered some drinks and food, you can’t have an empty stomach with all the alcohol you’ve been drinking” your cheeks were burning, you weren’t sure that was going away anytime soon. And you tried to look away but Natasha tutted “None of that, malyshka. Don’t hide from me, please”

Your heart melted. The softness of her voice made you want to hug her but you weren’t so sure. And your mind started running crazy, being flooded with unnecessary thoughts.

Why were they so sweet with you? Why putting this much effort into someone they just met? They had the perfect life, the perfect marriage and yet, they were showering with attention and care.

“Why me?” you whispered, your tongue betraying your mind and Natasha furrowed her brows as her eyes clouded with confusion “Why are you guys being so nice to me? We just met”

Natasha opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door and she sighed, like the interruption really bothered her. You offered her half a smile and she looked at you with apologetic eyes when she had to let you go.

“Come sit, sweetheart” Wanda called you from behind and you walked towards the sofa, swallowing nervously as you sat down “You okay? Did Natasha say something? Romanoff!”

Natasha was walking behind a man as he pushed the small cart with food and drinks.

“What I do, dorogaya? I swear it wasn’t me” Natasha said softly, grinning at her wife that was glaring at her “Thank you, we will leave it outside when we are done”

The redhead tipped him and he left, but her wife was still watching her with her hands over her hips and Natasha chuckled nervously. Wanda was ready to lecture her.

“She didn’t- Natasha didn’t say anything wrong” you rushed to say when Wanda opened her mouth and both looked at you.

The brunette approached you and crouched before you, taking your hand in between hers and looked at you with soft eyes.

“Are you being honest, sweetheart?” Wanda asked trying to read your face and you nodded “Words, pretty girl”

“Yes, Wanda” you whispered, lost in her gaze and Wanda smiled.

She stood up and looked at Natasha, that just grinned triumphantly and Wanda rolled her eyes playfully.

“Saved by the cute girl” Wanda teased her wife and Natasha shrugged.

“What can I say? I’m a saint!”

Wanda hummed and Natasha sat in the sofa in front of you as her wife placed a glass before you and some snacks over the coffee table. Then she joined the redhead, curling beside her and resting her right elbow over the back of the sofa.

They went back to assess you, seeking any sign of discomfort as if they already knew your body language. And at that point you were almost sure. Both seemed to be able to read you so easily.

Natasha leaned forward, taking a sip of her drink and then resting her arms over her thighs. You swallowed and bit your lip.

“You asked why” Natasha said softly and Wanda tensed slightly. Without having to look at her wife, Natasha leaned back to place her hand over Wanda’s knee “Wanda and I have been together since what? High school, my love?”

“Officially, since college. But yeah” Wanda smiled softly at Natasha and looked back at you again, her smile still on her lips.

“We were best friends, then lovers. We got married” Natasha’s gaze was soft, like she was trying to tell you everything she couldn’t with her eyes “And I love her with all my heart as much as she loves me” they looked at each other, like their love never wavered but only got stronger. Wanda pecked her lips and whispered something before they looked back at you “But something was missing. Well, not something. Someone”

At that, Natasha tensed up. You saw the moment her eyes clouded and she straightened up, her hands leaving Wanda’s knee to fold her arms over her chest. She was shielding herself.

Instinctively, you moved to the edge of the sofa. Your body trying to reach her, to comfort her or to at least apologise for asking, for forcing her to say something she didn’t seem ready to say.

But Wanda shook her head subtly, smiling gratefully but asking you silently to give Natasha a moment. You nodded and sat back.

“We work perfectly, don’t we moya lyubov’?” Wanda smiled at her wife, her hand already rubbing circles over her thigh and Natasha relaxed and looked at Wanda “Everything is almost perfect” the brunette caressed her wife’s cheek.

“Almost” Natasha whispered and as much as you wanted to look away and give them space, you couldn’t. Natasha looked at you again “but we need balance in our lives, you know? Someone to keep us in check, to remind us to live before we get consumed with our own things” Wanda intertwined her fingers with Natasha and both smiled at you “Someone with enough power to make us feel more free”

Your lips parted as the silence stretched in the room. Your cheeks were flushed and you shifted nervously on your seat. The words were sinking in your bones. Feeling so right that it scared you, because the words sounded real.

No one could be that mean to lie, right? But given your list of exes, you couldn’t trust your own judgement. Still, your heart needed to believe.

“I don’t think I am that someone” you murmured and Natasha stood up “I’m flattered, really. You’ve been so sweet to me. You both are awesome but…”

The redhead sat next to you and your voice died down. Natasha caressed your cheek tenderly as your breath hitched, her thumb brushing your lower lip as her eyes followed her movements. And then she brushed your hair back.

“We think you are. Yeah, we just met but look at us” she said softly “You are an attraction force. You didn’t leave our minds all day and then we talked to you and you sound so collected” Natasha leaned closer and you bit your lip “I don’t think you even know it. But if you are not comfortable, you can leave. We just needed you to know”

Your heart was drumming in your ears, your cheeks were burning but your mind went completely silent. Natasha’s eyes were twinkling with sincerity, a little fear and like she just opened her heart to you. So you did what you’ve been wanting to do all fucking night.

You kissed her.

At first, she flinched a little as her muscles stiffened. But when her mind finally realised what was happening, her lips started moving. Natasha was careful, her plumped lips softer than you imagined and gentler. She tasted like vodka and lime. But mostly, she tasted like a promise.

You whimpered, trying to deepened the kiss and Natasha pulled back. She smiled softly and shook her head, brushing your nose with hers.

“Not yet, malyshka. You are going to get me killed” she chuckled and you furrowed your brows.

“Killed? What do-“

A small tap on your shoulder cut you off, your cheeks heating up even more when you remembered the brunette. You turned to look at her, swallowing nervously and an apology already on the tip of your tongue but she raised a brow.

“If you dare to apologise, you will regret it” Wanda said firmly, sitting next to you and tapping her thigh “Come here, sweetheart”

Your mouth ran dry and you glanced at Natasha, that gave you a small nod and a reassuring smile. You straddled Wanda’s lap and her hands grabbed your hips, keeping you steady.

She leaned closer. Lips brushing your neck as she inhaled your scent. You smelled like coconut, summer breeze and dreams. You held back a moan when she placed a soft kiss on your jaw, your fingers locking on her shoulders trying to ground you and she smiled.

“You are so damn beautiful. Less than a day knowing you and our lives already shine” she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “You are perfect, sweetheart”

Before you could reply, before you could even think of denying her words, her lips captured yours. Wanda was a little rougher, impatient, but gentle all at once. Her tongue outlined your lower lip and you followed her silent order, opening your mouth.

Her tongue was on a mission, like she was trying to memorise every inch of you and her grip tightened on your hips. You moaned against her lips, your hips grinding against hers when she bit your lower lip, tugging it playfully and she smirked when you grunted.

“Such an impatient pretty girl” Wanda teased you and pecked your lips again “Did you eat something before going to the bar or were you planning on getting wasted?”

You looked at her in awe. Her tone firm but sweet, another trap wrapped in silk. One you would’ve run straight into if Natasha didn’t stop you.

“I wouldn’t lie if I were you, malyshka” Natasha said amused, leaning closer to you “She smells the lies from miles away”

Wanda hummed in agreement and you bit your lower lip, slightly distracted by Natasha’s fingers over your thigh.

“I- I didn’t” you admitted shyly “But I’m not hungry, I swear”

Wanda squinted her eyes, making you squirm over her and Natasha laughed.

“Maximoff, leave her alone. If she wants to eat, she will do it” Natasha smirked and Wanda pouted, looking at her wife “No, you won’t get away with everything you want”

“But she will need energy” Wanda defended herself and you gasped, making both look at you “unless you don’t want to…”

You leaned and kissed her again. You couldn’t trust yourself with talking. Not when they looked at you like they just found a treasure or how cute Wanda looked when she pouted. And the way she melted under your arms just fuelled your need of her.

You broke the kiss when Natasha huffed and when you turned to look at her, she was pouting like a child. You smirked amused as Wanda giggled and kissed your neck.

“What?” you asked wearing a cocky smirk. One that disappeared when Natasha stood up.

The redhead was taller than you, but you could almost feel the power radiating from her. She looked bigger, imposing, like she could ruin you if she just snapped her fingers.

It was her turn to smirk, sending a shiver down your spine and you almost squeaked. But Wanda started licking your neck and you whimpered when Natasha leaned.

“Not so cocky now, are we?” Natasha whispered and you bit down your lip “You are really lucky it’s our first night, malyshka. Really lucky”

It wasn’t a threat. She wasn’t warning you either. No, her words were a fucking promise. And instead of fearing her, you wanted to challenge her. You needed to see how far it could go.

Your brain wasn’t fully understanding how two women you just met, had total power over you. They weren’t forcing you, they weren’t pushing you. They kept giving you options and as free as you could feel, you didn’t want it. You wanted to be theirs.

It was the type of power that came with a lot of promises. The one that just asked for trust and care in return. Because Natasha and Wanda had some power over you. But you? You were the powerful one in that room. They would give you the universe if you just asked. All you had to do in return was trusting them. You had to give them the room to ruin you in all the right ways and they would be yours forever.

“Sweetheart, breathe” Wanda whispered in your ear and you realised your heart was racing, threatening you to jump out of your chest. You took a deep breath and looked at her “Good girl. Now be nice to daddy and apologise for making fun of her”

You moaned at the title. Your cheeks flushing when your eyes met Natasha’s. The redhead was grinning, green eyes daring you to not follow Wanda’s order. But you wouldn’t dare even if you wanted to.

“Sorry, Nat-“ Wanda pinched your side and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red “Sorry, daddy”

“Such an obedient plaything” Natasha said proudly.

Her fingers locked around your chin. A firm and steady grip that made you moan again as she leaned and kissed you. The first kiss was gentle and caring, this one felt like a claim.

Natasha kissed you like she was marking you, owning you and at the same time she was giving herself to you. Your head felt hazy. Your body craving them as if their lips over you weren’t enough.

Your fingers tugged Wanda’s hair when she bit your neck and the moment you moaned, Natasha’s tongue swirled with yours. It was like a practice dance. As if both knew all the right spots in your body, all the right things to do and say.

And it clicked.

You broke the kiss, panting and pushing Wanda away gently. Both looked at you confused and you tried to collect your thoughts before talking because you could potentially ruin your night.

“I’m not the first one, am I?” you asked carefully, watching the moment they shared a look and then went back to you “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. I’m sorry if I overstepped”

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t” Wanda cradled your jaw and gave you a sad smile “I wish I could tell you, you are the first one but you are right, you aren’t”

“But you are the one we want” Natasha added and smiled “and before you dare to say again we just met, sometimes you just know. We can’t name what it is, but we know we want you”

Your heart fluttered “What happened to…”

“That’s a story for another day, sweetheart. Why don’t we move this party somewhere more comfortable, hm?”

Wanda looked at Natasha and her wife nodded. You gasped when the redhead hoisted you over her shoulder, she was way too strong. She handled you with ease and care, putting you down on the bed and smiling like she just grabbed a pillow.

“Do you want us to stop?” Natasha asked softly and you shook your head “Remember what mommy told you, malyshka. Use your words”

You whimpered “No, daddy. I don’t want to stop”

“Good girl” Natasha smiled proudly.

Wanda knelt behind you as Natasha crouched and started taking off your heels. Wanda unzipped your dress slowly, tossing your hair aside and she kissed your shoulder blades. Natasha started kissing your legs and your mind didn’t know where to focus as Wanda pulled your dress down slowly.

The experience was something you had never felt. They were acting with so much care, making you feel safe. As if they were unwrapping a gift and wanted to engrave the experience in their minds.

The redhead helped her wife taking off your dress and both moaned at the sight of your body. Black lingerie covering your body and you couldn’t find in yourself to feel shy. Not when they were looking at you like you were a masterpiece.

“If you want to stop, you will say so. Understood?” Wanda whispered in your ear, tilting your head to the side and kissing your neck.

“Yes, mommy”

The praise came as a moan. Your words igniting Wanda’s skin as you used the right title. The brunette started sucking on your neck and you grunted. And when you looked down, Natasha was already kissing your thighs.

Both were marking you, their hands caressing your body like you were made of glass. As if you could break underneath them if they were rougher with you.

Your knees opened when Natasha moved up and she smirked. Your body was already reacting on its own. Your mind was silent, trying to remember every kiss, every movement, every sound they were making.

Your breath faltered when Natasha stopped in your covered cunt. She inhaled your scent, whimpering as her mind tried to decide what to do. And when she placed a chaste kiss and moved to your abdomen, you grunted.

Wanda unhooked your bra, throwing it somewhere around the floor and you tossed your head back when she cupped your breasts. You hid your face in the crook of her neck, kissing her as she pinched your nipples.

And you moaned, feeling Natasha’s tongue over your skin as Wanda’s hands worked over your chest. Your teeth sank in her skin and the brunette growled when you started sucking.

Your hips bucked up when Wanda’s fingers were replaced with Natasha’s mouth. Her tongue swirling over your harden nipple and her lips popping when she let you go.

The redhead continued to mark you, bruises appearing over your skin as a statement. When her knee pressed against your cunt you moaned and started grinding to ease the tension.

“Easy, malyshka” Natasha whispered in your ear “We are getting there”

Then you whined when they stopped touching you. Both kissing over you as you looked up. They were rough, you could almost feel the power battle that was taking place over you.

Your fingers hooked in Natasha’s pants and the redhead broke the kiss to looked down on you with curious eyes. You smiled innocently.

“Too much clothes, daddy”

Wanda chuckled as Natasha smirked with amusement and they shared a loving look, checking on each other before they kept going. The brunette pecked her wife’s lips and said something in russian.

Their attention was back on you. Moving around you with ease and Natasha made you stand up. You tripped and she caught you. Your heart melted when you heard a soft ‘I got you’ that felt like an oath.

“Who do you want to undress first, little one?” Wanda asked softly and you bit your lip.

Your eyes danced in between them. Your ears ringing as you tried to decide and when your breath hitched, the brunette’s hand wrapped around your wrist. You looked at her and she smiled reassuringly.

“Perhaps our cute girl shouldn’t choose” Natasha suggested tenderly and your cheeks flushed. Her finger traced your collarbone and she smiled “it’s a huge decision, isn’t it malyshka?” you moaned at her tone. Natasha was stripping you from your freedom, the one that came with consequences and a lot of anxiety “Mommy and daddy will do it for you. Sit and watch”

You nodded and sat at the edge of the bed. Your eyes fixed on them as they helped each other out of their clothes. Their movements deliberate, their eyes glancing at you every now and then with smiles that reached their eyes.

Wanda turned around. Natasha unzipped Wanda’s dress and her tongue traced her wife’s spine. You weren’t sure if Wanda moaned or if it was you. You clasped your legs to get some relief.

But your underwear was ruined when Wanda knelt before Natasha. It was one hell of a sight as the brunette looked up to her wife and took off her pants. You whimpered when Natasha stepped out of her pants and took off her shirt.

Both were goddesses. Your eyes were trying to decide where to focus. Natasha’s toned abdomen was calling you but Wanda’s long legs were alluring. You needed them both, not sure if you needed them to touch you or you needed to touch them.

As if they could read your thoughts, they approached you. Standing before you with softened eyes, giving you silent permission to touch.

You swallowed, not ready to pick between them without feeling you were failing them. Wanda smiled at you knowingly and looked at her wife.

“Dibs” Wanda said triumphantly and you looked at them confused as Natasha chuckled.

“No, you can’t call dibs. She gets to do it” Natasha said amused and you tilted your head with curiosity “Mommy wants to pick who goes first. Do you want her to pick, malyshka?”

You giggled softly and nodded “Yes, daddy” you looked at Wanda and grinned “You pick, mommy”

The brunette caressed your cheek and smiled proudly. She leaned to peck your lips, leaving a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Our perfect girl” she praised you and you smiled “Tasha, sit on the bed”

Natasha huffed but complied, she knew better than to piss off her wife by not following orders. The redhead sat next to you with a grin and you giggled when she winked at you.

“If you piss mommy off, I will let you cum sooner than later” Natasha teased and you gasped but Wanda smacked her thigh.

“Do not give her ideas” Wanda scolded and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “Sweetheart come here, kneel before daddy”

You did as told, eagerly. And Natasha moaned at the sight of you as you looked at her with doe eyes that twinkled with excitement.

Wanda knelt behind you, kissing your neck and then your shoulder. She pressed her chest against your back and you moaned when she nip your earlobe.

“Daddy is so beautiful, isn’t she?” Wanda purred and you nodded “Do you want to touch, little one?”

“Yes, mommy, please”

Wanda hummed proudly and took your hand. She showed you the way, your fingers caressing her legs tenderly. Natasha rested her body over her elbows, tossing her head back when your hand reached her thigh.

“She will never say it out loud, but she loves being worshipped” Wanda murmured and you whimpered as she guided your fingers over Natasha’s clothed cunt “Natasha acts all tough and powerful, but she is a golden retriever in disguise. A woman that needs to be taken care of” your thumb pressed against her clit and Natasha moaned, a sound so heavenly that you thought you could come just by hearing it “Show her how much you want her, sweetheart. Make daddy feel good”

Natasha gasped when your arms hooked around her legs and you pulled her closer with strength you didn’t know you had. And your body moved with a mission in mind.

The redhead watched you licked her abdomen, sucking and marking her. Her body was perfect, museum worthy. Wanda helped you unhooked her bra and you sucked her right breast first and then the left one.

Natasha’s breath hitched as you kept leaving bruises over her body. She didn’t like love bites, at least not that much unless Wanda was doing it to prove a point. But with you doing the job, looking at her like you’ve been dying to taste her and own her, Natasha knew she was fucked.

Maybe you weren’t their first addition to their marriage. They’ve tried multiple times and as much as they gave themselves up, it never reached that point. Not because they didn’t want to. It was because they never felt ready.

It could be the alcohol in her veins or her foggy mind. But instead of wanting to stop you from keep bruising her, she pulled you closer.

Wanda took in the image, noticing the way Natasha was letting you step into a territory she barely unlocked. The way her wife was holding you close as she unravelled under your touch. And she smiled because as much as the three of you felt like something that could vanish as soon as the sun came up, Wanda knew it wouldn’t happen.

They just found you. They wouldn’t let you go any time soon.

Not when Natasha felt so safe. Not when Wanda’s body buzzed with excitement and need she had never felt with anyone but Natasha. Not when you were so obedient, so eager, so fucking perfect.

Your tongue traced a line down her body. Your fingers hooked on the waistband of her underwear as you asked silently for permission and Natasha nodded, biting her lip as she watched you undress her.

You moaned at the sight of her slick. You leaned and kissed her thighs tenderly. And when your lips met her cunt, you both moaned.

“Take your time, sweetheart” Wanda cooed, her hand snaked between your legs. You whimpered when she tossed aside your underwear “I got you”

You swirled your tongue over Natasha’s clit, moaning at the taste and Wanda pressed her thumb against yours. You ran down your tongue making Natasha buck her hips up. And when your thumb rubbed circles over her clit as your tongue entered her, Natasha tossed her head back with a loud moan.

Your movements started gentle, slow, almost afraid of rushing things. But then your hunger came out to play, drunk on her taste and her moans. The way her fingers twitched next to your face trying to restrain herself from tugging your hair.

And your mind was hazy, moaning against her cunt as Wanda’s fingers worked between your legs. You whimpered when she pushed two fingers inside of you, your knees spreading a little more to give her more space to work and Wanda hummed satisfied.

The three of you were moving in sync. Wanda’s lips marking your back as she pumped her fingers, you eating Natasha out like she was the last meal on earth and the redhead finally broke and tugged your hair, guiding you as she bucked her hips up, grinding her hips against your face.

“Fuck, malyshka” Natasha whimpered, forcing herself to watch you and when she met your eyes she moaned louder “You look so perfect like this. I’m almost jealous, thinking your tongue worked on someone else” you grunted and Wanda fastened her movements, a possessive rhythm took over with Natasha’s words “Yes, baby, just like that. Don’t stop”

You pushed your hips back, trying to get Wanda to move faster. And she complied, her mind deciding she couldn’t wait for you to come around her fingers.

Natasha tugged your hair again and you whimpered, your eyes fixed on hers and you sucked on her clit and she moaned, not only at the sensation but at the way you were looking at her.

“I’m so close, please don’t stop” Natasha begged, feeling her abdomen tightened and her knees clasped in your head “Fuck”

Wanda licked your shoulder and smirked “You will come when she does, sweetheart. So it’s up to you”

Your eyes rolled back, your walls clenching around Wanda and your abdomen tightened as you tried to wait. And Natasha came moaning your name. She collapsed against the bed as you slowed your movements, your chin dripping with drool and her arousal as Wanda kept you in place.

“You made her a mess, sweetheart” Wanda whispered and you pressed your right cheek on Natasha’s thigh, moaning as Wanda kept pumping her fingers and her thumb rubbed circles on your clit “Mommy is so proud of you, little one. You are such a good girl. Cum, baby, claim your reward”

Your back arched against her chest, your head leaning on her shoulder and Wanda sucked on your neck as you came around her fingers. Your desperate moans filled the room and Natasha straightened up, watching the way your body trembled against Wanda’s.

The brunette slowed her movements and she captured your lips with hers, tasting her wife and moaning against your mouth. You bit her lip harshly and she whimpered. And she broke the kiss when she pulled out her fingers as you grunted.

You watched her lick her thumb clean, her eyes fixed on you for a moment before looking at Natasha. The redhead understood the command, leaning closer with her mouth opened as Wanda pushed her fingers in.

Natasha looked at you as she sucked her wife’s fingers, tasting you and moaned. You watched her mesmerised, noticing the way her eyes rolled back when Wanda pressed her fingers down her tongue. Natasha’s lips popped when Wanda pulled out her fingers and smiled.

“You taste better than I imagined, malyshka” your cheeks flushed and she signalled you to get closer “And that pretty mouth does wonders, mommy will love it” her knuckles caressed your cheek “Our perfect girl”

Natasha kissed you tenderly, your skin flushed and your heart racing. You were sure you could never get tired of her lips. The way she kissed you was charged with something you couldn’t name but it sat right on your bones.

Wanda stood up, leaving you both as you made out. Your body hovered Natasha’s as you climbed the bed and her hands squeezed your ass making you moan. You only broke the kiss when your lungs started burning needing more air and you smiled at Natasha.

“You are perfect too, daddy” you leaned and kissed her neck “So perfect”

Natasha grunted as you sucked on her neck, her hand slapping your ass and made you moan. The redhead tugged your underwear, contemplating ripping it off and the consequences. But it lasted one moment before she did it anyway and you gasped.

“I’ll buy a new pair, don’t worry” she grinned and you giggled.

Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, founding you extremely cute. It was a balance, silly things during an intimate moment that warmed her heart. Someone that didn’t expect her to be cold and heartless but actually enjoyed her goofy self.

“Tasha!” Wanda gasped and you both turned to look at her “It was such a nice piece. Why you do it, moya lyubov’?”

“My hands have mind of their own” Natasha grinned and Wanda chuckled “I see you brought the big guns”

In that moment, you noticed the strap on her hands and you gasped. Wanda looked at you amused, approaching you as if you were her prey. The small break was over because it was Wanda’s turn and Natasha was going to show you the right way to treat her wife.

“You are so tight, sweetheart. I think you deserve to be stretch out” you moaned as she brushed your lips with the tip of the toy “Sadly, it won’t be me doing it. Daddy doesn’t like to share her toys” she pouted and Natasha chuckled under you.

“Malyshka, sit closer to the headboard. I’ll show you how to treat mommy, hm?” Natasha instructed and you looked at her “And since it’s our grand opening night, I will let you enjoy the show as you please”

Natasha winked at you and you growled at her words. You moved around the bed, following her orders and the redhead gave you a proud smile that only increased your arousal.

You took off what was left of your underwear and tossed it away, your body getting comfortable between the pillows as you watched them carefully.

Natasha went back to her powerful state. Imposing and commanding as she watched her wife putting the strap in place around her hips. The redhead told her something in russian and Wanda grunted, stripping off her underwear and kneeling before Natasha.

It was hard to tell which one held the power over the other. They both seemed to share but in that moment, the picture was clear.

Wanda looked at her wife with devotion. Letting Natasha handle her as she pleased. Focusing on her and not daring to look away, not even when the brunette wanted so bad to watch you.

And as easy as it looked, the only reason Wanda bent to her wife’s wishes was because she loved Natasha dearly. Enough to give up her own power, enough to show the redhead she was hers too.

Natasha looked at you and you moaned. They looked perfect, delicious, you couldn’t even feel left out because they were letting you watch their interaction. It was hot the way they surrendered to each other, their love an intoxicating force that not everyone could see fully. Not like this. But you were lucky by just witnessing.

“Mommy’s tongue ran a little earlier, don’t you think?” Natasha smirked and looked down to her wife “Telling our perfect girl how much I love being worshipped, how soft I can be, how to hold power over me” you and Wanda moaned. Natasha’s smirk widened and she turned to you “I’ll pay back the favour. Here’s the secret, malyshka” her hand grabbed the toy and she brushed it against Wanda’s lips. Her wife opened her mouth and Natasha pushed it gently “Mommy looks so collected, so expensive, you wouldn’t even dare to think how much of a slut she is” your hand landed between your legs as Wanda bobbed her head “She walks around the world pretending she doesn’t like to serve, to please, but her inner slut always comes out to play in the bed. Isn’t that right, my love?”

Wanda and you moaned. The brunette’s mouth stuffed with the toy as your fingers played with your clit. Natasha looked so powerful like that, holding your attention and your needs. Knowing what to say and when to say it. A side of her that she always showed; composed, in control, intimidating and powerful.

Because her goofy self was for those that were close to her. She couldn’t be nice to everyone, it wasn’t in her nature to trust any stranger and yet, she trusted you. Natasha was willing to let you see every part of herself.

“Malyshka, be a dear and toss me a pillow” Natasha asked gently and you moved to complied. She smiled gratefully and dropped the pillow before Wanda “Come on, my love. Put on a show for our girl. Ride it as you suck my cock”

Wanda whimpered, her hands grabbing the pillow and putting it underneath her. Her head kept bobbing on the toy, the tip meeting the back of her throat as Natasha tugged her hair.

It was also hard for Wanda to show that side of her. Because Natasha’s words were true; the brunette walked around the world with all the confidence she had. Every inch of herself screamed power and she loved it.

Wanda loved the control, her ability to solve everything as if the world depended on her and the power all of it gave her. But when Natasha stripped her out of her power, Wanda also found a way to breathe.

She wouldn’t say it out loud, she would deny it if asked, but there was something about giving her power up for the woman she loved the most that was thrilling. But she felt vulnerable.

Her power shielded her from the outside. None of their exes had ever witnessed the power exchange between them because Wanda couldn’t let them see that side of her, the one that could break if handled poorly.

However, you were there. Touching yourself at the sight of her sucking the strap and humping the pillow and instead of seeing someone easy to destroy, you still looked at her like her power was never gone.

No, Wanda still had power over you. She wasn’t vulnerable. Wanda didn’t feel the ache in her chest or her usual fear igniting inside of her. She was free, holding everything and letting it go all at once.

Natasha fucked her wife’s mouth as if she could just come by the sight. You pumped two fingers inside you as you applied pressure on your clit. And Wanda was humping the pillow like it could save her.

“Seems like our girl is liking the show, Wands” Natasha grinned at you, her fingers tugging the brunette’s hair and you moaned when Wanda choked on the strap “Who would’ve thought? You are a slut just like mommy, hm?”

You whimpered, curling your fingers inside as Natasha paid attention to both of you. You were part of the show, they were letting you in and it felt like your body was on fire.

The gagging nosies Wanda was making were driving you to the edge. Her neck was flushed and you could see drool dripping. But what almost broke you was the moment you saw a tear rolling down her cheek.

You wished you were Natasha in that moment. The sight of Wanda from above was heavenly. A sight that shattered the powerful image of the brunette, the same woman that commanded you with a single look.

You moaned louder, your hips bucking up trying to reach your high and Natasha looked at you with a smirk. She pulled out the toy and Wanda coughed trying to regulate her breathing. The redhead crouched before her wife and grabbed her chin.

“Keep moving, Wands” she ordered and Wanda whimpered, hands steadying herself over the floor as she was grinding her hips “But look at her. Look how much she loved watching you being a slut for me” Wanda’s eyes met yours and you both moaned, your abdomen tightened and you tossed your head back as you came around your fingers “I wish I could take the credit, my love. But you did that, don’t you love it? Someone finally matched your slutty ass”

And with that Wanda fell apart, her orgasm crashing over her bones. Natasha’s words landing in all the right ways. And when you finally regained yourself back, you crawled over the bed. You laid down over your chest and reached for Wanda, the brunette moaning your name like a prayer as she slowed down her movements with her eyes closed.

Your eyes met hers when she finally opened them. Panting with her cheeks flushed like she just realised how much of herself she let go and afraid that you would think less of her. But when you cradled her jaw and caressed her cheek with your thumb, Wanda leaned into your touch.

“Thank you, mommy” you whispered “you looked amazing”

Natasha smiled softly, watching the interaction as her heart raced. You were giving them all they needed, all they craved and you didn’t even know. They cracked open before you and you weren’t judging, you were following them.

Wanda leaned and kissed you, a tender kiss that said more than she could trust her own words to tell. A silent thank you and at the same time, she was holding onto you like you could save her.

Then she broke the kiss and reached for your hand, sucking the fingers you were using to touch yourself and you moaned when her eyes never left yours. There was something more than hunger in them, something that screamed ‘see me as much as I see you’.

“You really are perfect” Wanda whispered after she let go of your fingers “Now, let mommy and daddy take care of you”

“I just had two-“

“It’s really not about how many times, malyshka” Natasha explained and you looked at her confused “Lay on your back and let us have you, yes?”

“Yes, daddy”

“Such a good girl you are” she pecked your lips.

You laid on your back and Wanda hovered your body, not before leaving bruises over your abdomen like Natasha did earlier. She was claiming you too, marking you as a shared possession with her wife. And when she finally was face to face with you, Wanda smirked.

Her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath faltered. You bit your lip, nodding slightly as she squeezed a little more testing the limit. But Natasha and Wanda made a promise, they wouldn’t push too far that night.

They needed to try, to see how comfortable you were around them, how much of yourself you were willing to give. For them it wasn’t physical, it never was. They saw you, they wanted you, they talked to you and realised they needed you.

Love a first sight was for fairytales, but you looked like the one that could finally break them and glue them all at once. You were perfect in more than one way, you just had to believe it. And they were ready to make you see it.

“I want to try that pretty mouth of yours, is that okay little one?” Wanda whispered, brushing her lips against yours and then tracing your cheek with her nose as she inhaled your scent.

“Please, mommy” you murmured, closing your eyes as you felt Natasha’s hands over your thighs.

Wanda took a moment to admire you. You looked so eager, so innocent, so… breakable. But you were trusting them, she could feel it. Her fingers brushed your hair and your eyes fluttered open, meeting hers with a soft twinkle.

“If you could only see what we do” Wanda said softly, smiling as she brushed her lips against yours “We waited for you for so long, sweetheart. This will work out, I promise” she kissed you again and your hands held the back of her neck trying to pull her closer. Wanda broke the kiss and you grunted “Easy. The night is still young” she pecked your forehead “Now, if you make mommy cum, daddy will let you cum” she leaned closer to your ear “but I’m not like daddy, I don’t like sloppy work” she purred.

You nodded eagerly and she hummed, hovering your face and you moaned at the sight of her glistening cunt. She smelled delicious. Just like Natasha, she smelled like paradise. An expensive paradise.

“Okay, malyshka. You better make mommy cum. Tap her thigh if you need us to stop” Natasha said spreading your legs and you whimpered when Wanda lowered herself over your mouth and the redhead spit on your cunt.

Your lips sucked on Wanda’s clit and the brunette had to steady herself with the headboard. And you moaned against her cunt when you felt the tip of the toy in your entrance.

Your movements faltered as Natasha pushed inch by inch of the toy inside and Wanda grunted, getting impatient and started riding your face. You matched her pace once that Natasha bottomed out, grunting against Wanda when the redhead started moving.

Your head felt foggy. Overwhelmed by the sensation of both women over you. Their noises driving you to the edge. Wanda was moaning louder over you as your fingers dug into her skin and Natasha was whimpering, hypnotised by the way the toy disappeared inside of you.

And your back arched when her thumb pressed over your clit and Wanda’s movements turned erratic, her slick covering your face as she used you just like she used that pillow.

Soon the brunette came, legs pressed against your head as she shuddered above you. Wanda was sure she had never came that fast, not even Natasha had made her.

She moved after a few minutes, letting you breathe and moving your body so she could hold you from behind. You buried your face in her inner thigh, your hands holding her legs as Natasha hovered your body.

The redhead was focused, whimpering as she pounded her hips against yours. Your legs wrapped around her hips and both moaned when Natasha kissed your neck.

“You are so perfect, malyshka. So tight” she breathed out in your neck and you whimpered “We are not letting you go”

Natasha looked at you, green eyes as darkened as yours. You tried to talk but only a moan came out and Natasha smirked. Wanda caressed your hair, soft fingers grounding you while Natasha shattered your world.

“Do you like when daddy fucks you, sweetheart?” you looked up and Wanda’s eyes were fixed on you, engraving in her mind every feature of your face as it contorted with pleasure.

You nodded and sank your teeth in her thigh when Natasha got rougher. You needed them everywhere, you didn’t want the night to end. And when Wanda started rubbing your clit, you screamed with pleasure.

“Daddy, mommy, please” you whined, feeling so close again and Natasha grunted “I’m so close, don’t stop please”

But the redhead stopped, she pulled out and you mewled. Wanda shushed you as Natasha flipped you, raising your hips and pushing the toy inside again.

Her hands landed in between your shoulder blades and she pushed you down. Wanda’s hand tugged your hair as Natasha started grinding her hips faster, erratic, with her fingers between your legs.

“Come, detka. Show me how much you love daddy’s cock” Natasha whimpered and your knuckles turned white as you fisted the sheets.

And you came, not sure of what you screamed but your orgasm came down like a crashing wave. You whined when Natasha didn’t slow down, she went faster and rougher. Her fingers working over your sensitive clit and your nails started digging into Wanda’s thigh like she could save you.

“Tasha, I think-“

“No” Natasha grunted, looking at Wanda with hungry and possessive eyes “She can take it, right malyshka?” you moaned and Natasha pulled you up, pressing your back against her chest and bit your neck.

Your eyes met Wanda’s and the brunette searched for any sign of discomfort but when your eyes rolled back with pleasure, she knew you were okay.

She knelt before you, biting the other side of your neck. Both were marking you, claiming you and your mind was one step away of crashing. It didn’t take that long for you to come again, one hand tugging Wanda’s hair and the other one tugging Natasha’s.

And the redhead slowed down, but she wasn’t ready to pull out. Neither Natasha or Wanda were actually ready to give you a break. Not when the last orgasm was possessive, claiming and promising.

And you didn’t want to let them go either.

(—)

At some point that night and after watching them come undone under your touch, you had a break. Regretting not listening to Wanda about the food when your stomach roared with hunger.

But you were sore, your body slumped over their bed with sheets covering you slightly. You looked like a fucking masterpiece, covered in love bites all over. Sweat glistening your skin and your head hazy.

“Don’t sleep yet, sweetheart. It’s time to eat before bed” Wanda said softly, lifting your body and holding you in between her arms as you hid your face in the crook of her neck. You whined “None of that, pretty girl. You need to hydrate and eat”

“Mommy, please” you pouted and Wanda giggled, brushing your hair “Sleep now”

“She’s a little brat” Natasha grinned, straddling your lap and offering you a water bottle “Come on, malyshka, don’t get on mommy’s bad side”

You grunted but straightened up, drinking as Natasha held the bottle. Then she turned and held a club sandwich before you and you pouted again. The redhead chuckled but you sighed, reaching for a fry but Wanda smacked your hand.

“Sandwich first” Wanda ordered and you rolled your eyes, Natasha held back a grin.

“Daddy is more fun” you groaned and took a small bite of the sandwich as Natasha bit a fry and wiggled her brows, amused.

“You say that now, until she is the one mad” Wanda whispered in your ear and nip your earlobe “And if you keep being a brat, I’ll show you the real deal”

Natasha laughed and fed you a fry, then she offered her wife a bite of sandwich and Wanda looked at her gratefully.

“She’s right, I’m more fun” Natasha teased her wife, shrugging and biting another bite.

Wanda glared at her but you giggled. They kept bantering as you ate. And your eyes wandered over their bodies, they were as bruised as you. Not once did they stop you. They let you claim them as well and that made your heart flutter.

When the brunette was satisfied, Natasha cleaned up and Wanda moved to cuddle you. She pecked your lips and then peppered kisses all over your face making you giggle. And when she smiled at you, your breath hitched.

“Thank you for trusting us, sweetheart” she whispered and nudged your nose with hers “You did good”

“Thank you, mommy” you murmured and pecked her lips again.

Natasha laid behind you, covering Wanda’s body with the sheets and then hers. Her arm wrapped around your hips and pulled you closer, leaving a kiss behind your ear.

“Let’s rest, malyshka. Tomorrow we can talk about everything” she whispered and you nodded.

And they kept whispering sweet praises until you fell asleep. Natasha looked at Wanda one last time, a silent conversation being held over your sleeping body. They kissed softly and went back to nestle your body between theirs.

You were perfect. And they would make sure you knew it.

(—)

You slid out of the bed, careful not to wake them up. And when you stood up, you tripped a little, gasping.

The only thing you could blame the alcohol for was your damn headache. But every decision that night was yours and your heart wanted to believe everything was true and not just a dream.

You bit your lip. No, you wouldn’t ruin this for yourself with insecurities. You couldn’t when they were so sweet before, during and after everything. And if it was a lie, then they would have to tell you themselves.

Your phone started ringing and you jumped a little, running and trying to answer before waking them up. You tripped with the sofa, grunting as you reached for your purse and when you turned around, Wanda was already looking at you, leaning back on the headboard as you answered.

“Dude, where the fuck are you?” Luke’s voice was on the other end and Wanda beckoned you and your body moved on its own, you could swear on that.

“I’m a little… busy” you said softly and Wanda raised a brow with amusement “Why? What do you want?”

“Breakfast? Open the door, I’ve been knocking” your best friend groaned as you crawled over the bed and sat on Wanda’s lap.

And if Wanda’s mood wasn’t enough to prove you they were planning on keeping you, her lips sure did because they found their way to your neck soon enough.

“I’m not there, vipes” you bit your lip as Wanda licked your throat “But I’ll meet you at the restaurant”

Wanda slapped your ass and you held back a moan, looking at her confused and she started shaking her head. Making you furrow your brows.

“What do you mean you are not here? Oh wait!” he started laughing but you couldn’t snap at him, not when Wanda kept roaming your body with her hands “You still with them? Naughty girl!”

“I’m not telling you shit” you smirked but it faded away when Wanda mouthed ‘language’, you rolled your eyes and she slapped your ass again making you whine.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just tripped” you lied and Wanda giggled, pecking your lips “Anyway, see you at breakfast like in…” you looked at the screen but Wanda blocked your view and you frowned “Yes, Wanda?”

“You are not leaving” she sentenced and you looked at her in awe.

“But I’m hungry” you pouted and heard Luke screaming on the phone “Lucas, give me a minute. Shut up!”

Wanda grabbed your pillow and punched Natasha with it, her wife groaned and grabbed the pillow by the third time. She glared at her wife and you held back a smirk.

“What?” Natasha grunted, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Then her eyes found you and she squinted “Why is your phone in your hand, malyshka?”

“She’s trying to leave” Wanda replied and your jaw dropped, you grabbed the pillow from Natasha’s hand and punched her with it “Watch it, little one”

“That’s not- I’m not trying to leave, I swear” you looked at Natasha “I’m just hungry” Luke shouted your name again and you groaned “Luke, I said shut the fuck up! Give me another…”

“Luke, right?” Natasha said after snatching the phone from your hand and you looked at her stunned and Wanda smirked “Yeah, Natasha here. I don’t think she will make it to breakfast” the redhead hummed as she smacked your hand away and Wanda went back to kiss your neck “I see, yeah. When are you leaving?” she grabbed her phone and looked at the hour “Sure, we will join if that’s alright with you and your friends?” she hummed again and typed something in her phone, showing it to Wanda and her wife nodded “Yeah, see you then. Thank you”

Natasha hung up and placed your phones together over her nightstand and your jaw dropped. You weren’t sure if you heard right, but apparently the redhead already decided they weren’t going to leave your side.

“What did he tell you?” you asked as Natasha kissed her wife and looked at you amused.

“Something about a trip to Women Island?” she shrugged and leaned to kiss you “Hope you don’t mind if we tag along”

“I- I don’t but I don’t think you want to hang with four strangers and-“

“We are hanging out with you and may I remind you this stranger made you moa-“ you clasped your hand over her mouth as your cheeks started burning and she raised a brow.

“Fine, three strangers. They are stupid and teasing and…” Natasha licked your hand and you moved it away “Hey!”

“Oh so now you don’t like my tongue? Wasn’t she asking me to never stop using it last night, dorogaya?” Natasha asked to Wanda and the brunette laughed.

“Yeah, I remember that” she teased and you groaned, trying to get off Wanda’s lap but she kept you in place “What I don’t remember is giving you permission to move”

“Is this my new life? Am I gonna get teased for the rest of my life?” you said without really thinking about your words but when realisation settled, you panicked “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Yes, that’s what you should expect for the rest of your life” Natasha smiled and grabbed your hand “And we don’t mind hanging out with your friends. It will be good getting to know them since you know… you are kinda stuck with us now”

“You make it sound like a threat, moya lyubov’” Wanda laughed and you bit your lip “We don’t have to go if you don’t want us to”

You looked at them, like really looked. Their eyes were twinkling softly, their smiles didn’t waver and they kept one hand touching you as the other were linked.

They made it look like you’ve been part of them all their lives, as if they didn’t meet you the day before but like you belonged there already. And your heart melted.

Maybe you didn’t take the best choices in the past, but this felt right. They felt right. So what if you just took a leap of faith?

“Yeah, okay. Let’s do it” you smiled and leaned to kiss each one of them “and I mean all of it, if you guys still want me” you whispered shyly and Wanda caressed your cheek.

“I know a way or two to show you how much we want you” she purred and you whimpered “What do you think, Tasha?”

“Yeah, I know what you are talking about?” the redhead smirked and you moaned.

“Again?” you grunted when Wanda pushed you down in between their bodies and their lips were already on your neck.

“Again. And again after that” Natasha whispered and you bit your lip but your stomach growled and the redhead laughed.

“Or not. I guess she really is hungry” Wanda chuckled and you groaned, looking down to your abdomen.

“No, no, I’m not hungry. Come back” you whined but Wanda was already picking up the phone to order room service “She won’t let it go, will she?”

Natasha patted your thigh “You get used to it, now come back to my arms and wake me up when food is here”

And when you settled in her arms, watching Wanda reading the menu and ordering for you as Natasha kissed your shoulder and held you protectively, you knew whatever happened next it didn’t matter.

You really could do that for the rest of your life.

[wandaslovey]

this is beyond gay panic. this is gay hyperventilation

[lingling-sirilak]

Only You The Series (2025)

[abimess]

"Oh. You're married?" with Wanda saying it to R. Make it angsty please 😭

gif is not mine

"Oh. You're married?" You look down at your own hand when she asks, the gold hoop shining on your ring finger. The doctors' words about not putting her under stress echo through your mind as you swallow hard all the answers you wanted to give, and you look into her eyes again with a forced smile. 

"I am, yeah." You tell with a crying voice, but Wanda fails to notice, too disappointed by the information. "Well, that's nice." She comments, and you have to hold back your giggle at the so-evident lie. "I hope she's good to you."

"Oh, she is." You confirm with tears in your eyes, trying to stop them from falling as you smile. "Would you like to know more about her?" You catch yourself asking before you can contain yourself, and when the redhead nods in confirmation, you sigh. "Well, she's the smartest girl I know. Whenever I have a problem she is the one I turn to and she always knows how to help me. I loved her from the first day I saw her and just when I thought she couldn't make me any happier, she went and gave me my two boys. I'm extremely grateful to her for giving me everything I could have ever wanted."

It's hard to talk about your life together when she doesn't even remember you, but you disguise it as best you can. Hopefully holding on to the possibility that the woman you love so immediately recovers her memory, even though the doctors said that such a possibility is slim.

"I wanna have kids one day." Wanda's voice breaks the silence after a minute or two, and you have a sad smile as you ask her, "You do?"

"Yeah. Two, like you." She confirms with a nod, a mischief smile on her lips as she adds, "And I'll tell you a secret, I always say it doesn't matter what comes, but I really want two boys." The comment makes you genuinely laugh for the first time in so long, a surprised expression on your face. 

"Well, now that's something I didn't know." You say with humor in your voice, but the redhead is too busy admiring the sound of your laughter and the features of your face to really take note of what you had said. The next moment, however, her smile turns into a thoughtful frown. 

"Why do you keep coming to see me?" The redhead asks with curiosity. But before you can come up with a lie, she makes a dismissive grimace. "Oh, never mind, I just remembered it."

"You did?" You ask hoarsely, in shock, your heart pounding in your ears with hope. "Yeah! You're one of the doctors." With her answer, your hopes go away as quickly as they came, and you force a smile as you nod your head slowly. "Yeah... Yeah, that's right."

"And I'll have you know, you're my favorite doctor." She tells you, leaning in as if telling a secret, and you laugh through your nose, a small smile at the corner of your lips as you try to stay strong for who knows what time that day.

"And you're my favorite patient." You hit back in the same tone, and when she smiles shyly at you, cheeks flushed, you feel your heart break and mend all at once.

"I bet you say that to all of them." She accused with the raise of an eyebrow, and you chuckle, shaking your head as you swear, "I would never." She doesn't seem to believe your words much, however, no matter how true they are. But before the banter can go on, she grimaces in pain, bringing her hand to her temple. "I think I'm gonna take a nap now, my head is hurting again."

"Of course. I'll be here when you wake up." You reassure her, helping her lie back down on the bed with a concerned frown. When her head is comfortably resting on the pillow, Wanda smiles playfully. "Shouldn't you go check out your other patients?"

"My favorite patient." That's the answer you offer her with a slight shrug, smiling when the redhead lets out an amused giggle. "Rest." You instruct as you sit back down in the armchair and, when you're sure that Wanda has fallen asleep, you finally allow yourself to cry.

[natalianovnas]

❛❛ to 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 ❛❛

  ꩜ ۫ . SUMMARY :: based on this lovely request by @mrsmothermaximoff ;)

  ꩜ ۫ . PAIRING :: ceo!wanda x reader

  ꩜ ۫ . WARNING :: 'enemies' to lovers trope, cold and slightly mean wanda (in the beginning), forced contract marriage.

꩜ ۫ . WORDS COUNT :: 6.5k || masterlist

an ; i apologise for the delay but it's here now & i'm not relly proud of how it turned out despite the insane amount of times i spent rewriting this but enjoy :)

You were sure there was a special place in hell for Wanda Maximoff.

Probably right next to the printer that never worked unless you whispered sweet nothings to it, and directly above the coffee machine that hated you. But even then, Wanda would rule supreme. Ice-cold. Iron-spined. A goddess in a power suit who made your life absolutely miserable, day after endless day.

And yet—you never quit.

You were overworked, underappreciated, and absolutely exhausted. But the pay was good, the benefits better, and your rent unforgiving. So you survived on caffeine, spite, and a tiny scrap of pride that wouldn’t let Wanda win.

“Miss Y/L/N,” came that voice—low, smooth, and dipped in condescension.

You didn’t look up from your screen. Not immediately. Wanda hated when you made her wait, but she hated desperation more. And if you had anything left in this war, it was your ability to pretend she didn’t affect you.

“Yes, Miss Maximoff?” you finally replied, tone clipped but professional.

Her heels clicked against the marble floor, each step a countdown to your next aneurysm. She stood behind your desk, all sharp cheekbones and sharper eyes, dressed in navy with lipstick the color of fresh blood.

“My schedule for this afternoon is… missing details,” she said, gesturing to the tablet in her hand. “Are you slacking off, or simply testing my patience?”

You swallowed. “The update was sent thirty minutes ago, along with the attached files. You haven’t refreshed your calendar, Ma'am.”

A pause. You watched her nostrils flare the tiniest bit.

“Fix it,” she snapped anyway, as if you hadn’t already done exactly that. “And bring me the corrected briefing in my office. Now.”

She turned and walked away before you could reply.

You didn’t mutter a curse—but only because HR was one more complaint away from calling you in for a “tone check.”

Wanda Maximoff was also a tyrant.

There was no other word for it. She was brilliant, yes—built Maximoff Industries from the ground up after moving from Sokovia at nineteen. She was also relentless, poised, and terrifyingly beautiful in that rich, untouchable kind of way that made you feel like a peasant in a fairytale. But she had no sense of mercy.

You’d been her assistant for two years. Not her executive assistant—just her assistant. The one she assigned overtime to without warning. The one she emailed at 2 a.m. with subject lines like URGENT: color-coding is embarrassing. The one who, despite having a degree and enough ambition to fill a boardroom, was stuck being her glorified punching bag.

Sometimes, you wondered if she even knew your first name.

Most times, you knew she did—and just enjoyed saying it as little as possible.

“Something crawled up her spine and built a condo,” you muttered under your breath as you passed Peter in the break room, cradling your third cup of coffee like it owed you child support.

Peter raised a brow. “Maximoff?”

You gave him a look. “She’s on a warpath. And I think I’m the first casualty.”

He chuckled, but it didn’t last. “Yeah, she’s… not great today.”

“She’s never great, Peter.”

“Okay, true. But this?” He lowered his voice, glancing around to make sure no one else was near. “This isn’t normal. Not even for her.”

You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms. “What’s the deal, then? Mercury in retrograde? Her espresso machine died?”

Peter hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek.

You tilted your head. “Spill. You know something.”

He sighed, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “Alright, look. Keep this to yourself, but… her visa’s expiring soon.”

You blinked. “Visa?”

“She’s still technically on a special investor visa from Sokovia. It got renewed a few times, but the latest application hit a snag. Bureaucracy crap. She has a few months, tops.”

You blinked again, slower. “But… she’s Wanda Maximoff. Her name is on the goddamn building. She’s a millionaire. You’re telling me she might have to—what—pack up and go home?”

Peter nodded grimly. “Unless she finds a permanent solution fast. And, well… you know how she gets when things feel out of her control.”

You stared into your coffee, the bitterness suddenly matching your mood.

It made sense now—the extra tension, the unusual edge in her voice, the way she barked orders like she was trying to distract herself from something worse.

.     .     .

You should’ve seen it coming.

The moment you stepped into Wanda’s office that afternoon—called in via a sharp, one-line email with no subject—your instincts screamed at you to run. But you didn’t. Because you never did.

Because even if she was fire and knives and deadlines wrapped in silk, you always showed up.

She didn’t look up when you entered. She was at her desk, eyes on her laptop, long fingers tapping something out fast. Deliberate. You waited, silently, in front of her desk, clutching the tablet with her updated itinerary—because that’s what she asked for.

Finally, she spoke. “Close the door.”

Your heart skipped.

Obeying, you turned, shut it quietly, and turned back. She gestured to the chair across from her without looking.

You sat.

And waited.

Wanda finally looked up—and the moment her eyes met yours, you felt something shift.

She looked… tired.

Not unkempt. Not messy. She was never those things. But there was a tension in her jaw that wasn’t always there, a strain behind the eyes like she hadn’t slept. And worse: a flicker of vulnerability trying to pass for detachment.

“I’m going to make this simple,” she said at last. “I need something. And you’re going to give it to me.”

You blinked. “You always make things sound like you’re about to blackmail me.”

She didn’t smile. “You’re not wrong.”

Your fingers tightened around the tablet.

“You’ve worked here long enough,” she went on, “to know how I operate. I like control. Precision. Solutions. And I don’t like my time wasted with unnecessary questions.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of asking for a favor?”

“No.” Her gaze sharpened. “It’s my way of giving you an opportunity.”

You couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped. “God, you’re really committing to the Bond villain routine, huh?”

Her jaw flexed. “I’m offering you a deal. You can either hear it, or I can accept your resignation.”

You went still.

“You’re kidding,” you said flatly. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I need to stay in the country,” she said. “Legally. My visa situation is deteriorating faster than I expected, and every other avenue is closing. I’ve been advised that the fastest way to lock in my residency and maintain the company without interruption… is to marry a U.S. citizen.”

Your lips parted. Then closed again. Then opened.

“You’re telling me this why?”

“Because,” she said coolly, “it’s either you, or someone I don’t trust. And I’d rather marry someone I can predict. Someone who already knows how to survive my world.”

You gaped. “Survive—? Wanda, I’m your assistant. I bring you coffee and tolerate your daily tantrums. I’m not your—your fake wife!”

“You’ll be compensated,” she said, like she hadn’t just threatened your career. “A year’s salary, upfront. Your debt cleared. Paid leave after the interviews. A guaranteed recommendation from me. You’ll live with me, play the part, attend events when needed. Three months minimum. One year ideal.”

Your throat went dry. “And if I say no?”

She folded her hands on the desk. “Then you’ll receive a generous severance and be free to look for employment somewhere else. I won’t lie—I’ll make sure it’s somewhere far from this industry.”

You stared at her, heart pounding. “You’re seriously threatening me into marriage.”

“No,” she said evenly. “I’m giving you a choice. It just happens to come with consequences.”

You stood suddenly, knocking the chair back a few inches. “You are unbelievable.”

“And you’re an intelligent woman who knows a once-in-a-lifetime offer when she sees it.”

Your eyes stung, but you blinked fast. You wouldn’t cry in front of her. You never had—and today wasn’t going to be the day you broke.

“Why me?” you asked, quieter now. “You’ve treated me like shit for two years.”

Wanda’s gaze faltered.

For the first time in a very long time, she looked… conflicted.

“Because I know you won’t lie to me,” she said finally. “Because I know you’re loyal even when I don’t deserve it. And because I—”

She stopped herself. Her fingers curled on the desk.

You stepped back slowly. “You don’t get to manipulate me, Wanda. Not with guilt. Not with perks. Not with desperation.”

She stood too. Slowly.

“Twenty-four hours,” she said. “Think about it.”

You stared at her a moment longer—at the way she held herself stiffly, like a soldier refusing to show injury. And for just a breath, you saw something else flicker behind her practiced calm.

Fear.

You turned and walked out without another word.

But even as the door shut behind you, her voice echoed in your mind:

“You’re the only one I trust to do this right.”

And god help you—some part of you wanted to say yes.

.     .     .

You stared at your ceiling for most of the night. Wanda Maximoff, your boss, had proposed—no, offered—you marriage. Like it was a project to manage. A transaction. A contract. Just another calendar entry she could control.

Marry me or lose your job.

You replayed the words again and again, the ice in her tone, the half-glint of desperation in her otherwise impenetrable eyes.

She hadn’t said please. She hadn’t even asked. And still… you couldn’t shake the way her voice faltered when she said:

“Because I know you won’t lie to me.”

That wasn’t the Wanda Maximoff you knew.

And it haunted you.

---

“You’re not actually considering this,” Peter said, nearly choking on his pastry the next morning.

You’d asked him to meet before work. Neutral ground. Coffee shop. Public enough that he couldn’t yell at you.

You gave a long sigh into your cup. “I didn’t say that.”

“Oh my God,” he muttered, leaning across the table. “You are. You are considering it.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“Y/N,” Peter said, exasperated. “This is your boss. The same boss who once sent back your PowerPoint slides because the font gave her a ‘visual migraine.’ The woman who criticized your penmanship on a sticky note.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I know who she is.”

“She’s cold. Controlling. And terrifying.”

“She’s scared right now,” you mumbled, almost to yourself.

Peter stared.

You didn’t meet his gaze. “She’s losing control of the only thing she’s ever built. The company is everything to her.”

“Still doesn’t make you the solution. There are other ways to fix this. Legal ones. Less insane ones.”

“She trusts me.”

Peter laughed, short and dry. “That’s funny. Because I watched her ignore you for six months straight unless she needed coffee or someone to bleed on.”

You gave him a look.

He softened. “I’m just saying… I get that you feel like you owe something to that building, to your job, to her. But don’t let her guilt you into ruining your life.”

You were quiet for a beat. “It wouldn’t ruin it.”

Peter raised both brows.

“It’d be one year,” you said, barely above a whisper. “A fake year. With money, freedom, clean debt. I’d come out of it better off. That’s not ruining—it’s… survival.”

Peter leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. “You’re starting to sound like her.”

---

You didn’t go straight to Wanda’s office.

You paced around your desk. Sorted your inbox. Re-read her calendar six times. Practiced saying “no” in five different tones.

And then you did the unthinkable: you walked into her office without knocking.

Wanda looked up from her desk, not angry—just expectant. Like she’d known you’d come.

Her mouth twitched. “That was fast.”

You closed the door behind you. “I didn’t say yes.”

“Yet.”

You rolled your eyes. “Can you not treat this like a hostile takeover?”

She stood, slowly, and walked around her desk. “Then how should I treat it?”

“Like it’s not a game,” you said. “Like it involves me too.”

That stopped her.

Wanda’s arms crossed. “I thought I was giving you something. Freedom. Power. Money. And you’d get out after a year. Safe. Rich. Clean.”

“And what do you get?” you asked.

She hesitated. Just a flicker. But it was enough.

“I get to stay,” she said. “I get to keep what I’ve built. And I get… a little peace.”

The honesty startled you.

You blinked. “So that’s what I am to you? Peace?”

Her eyes met yours. “I don’t have time for someone I have to charm. Someone I need to lie to. You already hate me. You’ll survive this. And I trust you.”

You swallowed hard. “You trust me… more than you like me.”

Something flickered in her face. Something softer.

“I do like you,” she said, quieter now. “More than I should.”

Your breath caught.

But before the silence could stretch too long, she added, like ripping off a bandage: “So? What’s your answer?”

You didn’t say it right away. You walked out again. Sat back at your desk.

But you typed up a contract draft before lunch.

Just to see what it would look like.

You’d never signed anything that made you feel so… out of body.

And you’d signed an NDA that threatened jail time over gossiping about Wanda’s caffeine preferences.

But this?

This was next level.

A marriage contract—fake, yes, but binding. Your name beside hers, your future entangled with hers for the next year. It felt like volunteering to stand next to a tornado and hope it didn’t notice you bleeding.

Wanda hadn’t said anything when she received the contract. Just read it in silence, flipped to the footnotes, and smiled that little smile she wore when you surprised her.

Clause 3.1: Maintain boundaries at work—no "wifely" expectations during business hours.

Clause 3.5: No kissing, touching, or fake honeymoon antics unless publicly required.

Clause 4.2: One year maximum, subject to early exit with written consent.

Clause 5.0: If a dog enters the household, Y/N keeps it.

She hadn’t even blinked at the dog clause. Just said: “Very specific.”

You replied, “I’ve met you. I’m preparing for chaos.”

You tried not to look like you were dying when Peter found out.

But of course, you failed.

“You’re marrying her.” His voice cracked like his brain couldn’t compute it. “You’re marrying her.”

“Technically, fake marrying her,” you corrected, sipping your iced coffee like it would wash the guilt off your tongue.

Peter stared. “This is like watching someone walk into a lion’s mouth because the lion offered to pay their bills.”

“She needs this. I need the money. It’s one year, not forever.”

He leaned in. “You’ve worked under her thumb for two years and barely survived. You think living with her is going to be easier?”

“She’s not the same at home.”

He scoffed. “What, she says thank you now? Hums lullabies in her robe?”

You winced. “She’s not that bad.”

“She made a grown man cry last week because his pen ink was too blue.”

“… Okay. But that was objectively unprofessional ink.”

Peter gave you a long, stunned look. “Oh my God. You’re already falling into it.”

“I am not falling into anything,” you snapped.

Except maybe a quiet sense of curiosity. About the Wanda that existed off-hours. The one who never made eye contact in the elevator, but always remembered if you took your coffee black with two sugars. The one who never praised, but never forgot birthdays.

That Wanda.

The one who let herself say: “I trust you.”

. . .

You didn’t expect the shopping trip.

Or the personal driver.

Or the fact that the boutique staff already knew your name when you arrived.

“She’s paying you to fake love her,” you reminded yourself as you stood half-frozen outside one of Manhattan’s most exclusive storefronts. “This is work. These are just costumes.”

Wanda stepped out of the car next to you, her dark glasses reflecting the late morning sun. “Don’t sulk. You’ll wrinkle.”

“You didn’t warn me we were going full Pretty Woman today.”

She opened the boutique door with a deadpan: “You’re not wearing anything worth warning.”

You gave her a withering look. She smirked.

Inside, the boutique staff descended like well-dressed bees. Champagne offered. Garment racks unveiled. Names whispered and measured in thread count. Wanda moved through it all like she owned oxygen.

You, meanwhile, got dragged into a dressing room with five different “looks” shoved into your arms and strict instructions to “pretend you’re rich.”

The first dress was too tight. The second too floral. The third was so expensive you didn’t want to breathe in it.

The fourth made her pause.

Wanda looked up from her phone when you stepped out.

Black, fitted. Minimalist. Sleeveless. It clung in the right places and flowed in the rest, the neckline sharp but elegant.

You expected another snide remark.

Instead, she just stared.

Then: “That one.”

You blinked. “That’s it? No insult about my posture or poor color choices?”

Her gaze dragged over you again. Slower this time.

“That one,” she said, voice low. “We’ll have it tailored.”

You hesitated. “You okay?”

She blinked—just once—and whatever softness had flickered behind her eyes vanished.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Next fitting.”

But later, when she turned away, you caught her reflection in the mirror.

And she was smiling.

Not smug. Not snarky.

Just… quiet. And maybe a little awed.

The driver took you back to her place after, bags in the trunk, silence stretching between you in the backseat.

You watched her out of the corner of your eye—her arms crossed, legs crossed, sunglasses on even though the tint on the windows made it unnecessary.

“You know,” you said, carefully, “if we’re doing this, we’re gonna have to stop glaring at each other like sworn enemies.”

“I don’t glare at you,” she said.

“You definitely do.”

“I evaluate.”

“Like I’m a coffee brand you hate.”

That got a twitch of a smile.

“I don’t hate you,” she said after a moment.

You glanced over. “Sure. Just mild daily contempt.”

Another pause.

Then: “I don’t hate you,” she said again, quieter this time. “I don’t think I ever did.”

You didn’t know what to say to that.

So you didn’t say anything at all.

.     .   .

You'd been warned that the gala would be overwhelming and you assumed that meant “dress to kill” or “don’t trip on marble.”

Not an elite ballroom filled with New York’s richest, at least six photographers outside before you even stepped out of the car and Wanda’s hand—firm, warm, possessive—resting on your lower back the second you stepped into view.

“Stop shaking,” she murmured as flashbulbs popped like fireworks.

“I’m trying not to throw up on your designer heels,” you muttered back.

She leaned in, lips brushing your ear for show. “If you puke, at least do it on Kellman's shoes. He owes me money.”

That startled a laugh out of you, a small, nervous one—and of course, a photographer captured it. You saw the flash, heard the shutter, and saw Wanda smile out of the corner of her mouth like she planned it.

She was playing the game like a master.

And you were just trying not to get eaten alive by it.

Inside the gala, it didn’t get easier.

The ballroom was gold-trimmed and glittering, a warzone of polished shoes, fake laughter, and whispered business deals behind champagne flutes. You barely recognized anyone. Wanda, meanwhile, floated through the crowd like she owned it—which, in some ways, she did.

You stayed close to her side, aware of every camera lens, every gaze. Her hand remained at the small of your back. It didn’t move. Didn’t shift. Just stayed there—anchoring you, like she wasn’t just pretending.

When she introduced you, she used your name. Said it clearly. Said it with something close to pride.

“This is my fiancée,” she told a woman from Forbes. “She keeps me sane.”

You choked slightly on your champagne. Wanda didn’t even blink.

The real trouble started with Daniel Callahan.

You recognized him from finance meetings—a charming nightmare in a tailored suit. He smiled too easily, touched too much, and once called you “sweetheart” in front of the executive board.

And now he was at your elbow, saying, “I didn’t know Maximoff had such good taste outside of stocks.”

You smiled, tight. “She has excellent taste. That’s why I’m still employed.”

He laughed. “Employed and engaged? Impressive.”

His tone was light, but you felt it. The subtle leer. The disbelief that you were the one Wanda had chosen.

Wanda stepped beside you a moment later, gaze cool as frost.

“Daniel,” she said, all saccharine silk, “Still wearing those tragic ties, I see.”

He smirked. “Still stealing the spotlight, Wanda.”

She smiled. Then—casually, but unmistakably—she reached for your hand. Laced her fingers with yours. “Of course I am.”

You went still. His eyes flicked down.

“I was just telling your fiancée how radiant she looks tonight,” he said smoothly.

Wanda’s hand squeezed yours—gently, but with intent.

“She always does,” she said. “But I’d appreciate it if you looked with your eyes, Daniel. Not your ambitions.”

His smile faltered.

You blinked.

He chuckled after a pause and excused himself.

You turned to her slowly. “That was…”

“Too much?” she offered.

You shook your head. “Weirdly flattering.”

Wanda studied you. “You don’t realize how often people look at you.”

You frowned. “People don’t look at me.”

“I do.”

It wasn’t a performance. She wasn’t smiling when she said it. No flashbulbs. No audience.

Just her.

Just you.

And a pause that pulsed like a second heartbeat between you.

Later, as the event wound down, you found yourself leaning against the railing of the second-floor balcony overlooking the dance floor. You needed space. Air. Your skin still hummed where she’d touched you.

You heard her footsteps before she appeared.

“You handled that well,” she said.

“Which part?” you asked, not turning around. “The press, the fake ring, or your little public jealousy stunt?”

There was a pause behind you. Then: “That wasn’t fake.”

You turned.

She was watching you. No mask. No posture. Just Wanda.

Your breath hitched. “We’re supposed to be pretending, Maximoff. Not actually catching feelings.”

She walked closer, heels slow and deliberate. “Who said anything about catching?”

You swallowed hard. “Wanda…”

Her voice softened. “Tell me it didn’t feel real when I touched you.”

You couldn’t.

Because it did. It always did.

Every time she brushed your hand. Every time she leaned in. Every time she looked at you like there was something worth melting in her frozen world.

You exhaled slowly. “We’re in way over our heads.”

Wanda nodded. “We are.”

But she didn’t stop walking, didn’t stop until she was inches from you, neither until her hand found yours again—quiet, steady.

And you let her hold it.

Just for a minute.

Because you wanted to.

. . .

Moving in was surreal.

Wanda had a penthouse overlooking the Upper West Side. Of course she did.

Marble floors, skyline views, furniture that looked untouched. It was the kind of place you saw in magazines—clinical in its perfection. It didn’t feel like someone lived there. It felt like someone performed there.

“This is real wood,” you muttered under your breath the first time your suitcase wheels rolled across the floor.

Wanda looked up from where she was typing on her phone. "What did you expect? Plastic?"

You dropped your bag by the front door. “I expected rich, not hand-carved oak imported from Italy rich.”

She smirked. “I like quality.”

“I like not feeling like I should tip the hallway.”

She chuckled. It was quiet. But it was real.

The first morning was the weirdest.

You woke up in one of the guest rooms—though she insisted it was now your room. There was fresh linen on the bed. A brand new vanity set already laid out. Her housekeeper had stocked the closet with three outfits in your size before you even arrived.

It was thoughtful. Organized. Weirdly… sweet.

But the kitchen was where you really saw her.

She was barefoot, in black silk pajama pants and a plain white tee, hair still damp from the shower. No makeup. Just her, in the soft light of morning.

Wanda Maximoff, pouring oat milk into her coffee like she hadn’t once told you to fix a typo with the fury of a Greek goddess.

You froze at the doorway.

She looked up. “There’s coffee.”

You blinked. “You… made coffee?”

“I do know how to function outside of boardrooms.”

You hesitated. “Do you?”

She smirked. “Stay long enough and you might see.”

You stepped in slowly. “I already feel like I’m on a reality show called ‘Rich People Do Normal Things.’”

“You’re the worst fake wife I’ve ever had.”

“I’m the only fake wife you’ve ever had.”

“Exactly.”

But then she handed you a mug—already fixed the way you liked it—and just like that, your sarcasm softened.

She’d remembered. No cream. Two sugars. Always too hot.

You met her eyes. “Thanks.”

Something flickered there.

She nodded once and took a sip of her own.

You didn’t expect it to be easy.

You didn’t expect it to be… normal.

But the days began to settle into a rhythm. You went to work together. Attended a few small press lunches. She brushed your hair back gently at a networking event when a breeze caught it funny. You let your hand rest on her shoulder just a second too long when someone asked how you met.

At home, you didn’t talk much about the “marriage” part.

But something unspoken lived in the space between your mugs on the kitchen counter.

Like maybe neither of you hated this as much as you pretended to.

Not the metaphorical kind. The real, cold, thunderstorm kind.

You came home soaked after a late grocery run. Wanda hadn’t known you’d gone, and when you walked into the apartment dripping wet, she was pacing by the window.

She stopped when she saw you.

“You’re soaked.”

“Observant,” you coughed, wiping rain off your cheeks. “It’s only a monsoon outside.”

She crossed the space in seconds. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going out?”

“I didn’t think I needed to report to you.”

“You don’t—” Her voice cracked. “You don’t. But I thought something happened.”

You frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“Because,” she snapped, then lowered her voice, “you’re not answering your phone. You left without saying anything. You’re living in my house. And I… I panicked.”

The vulnerability in her tone stunned you.

You stood there, soaked and cold and stunned, watching the most untouchable woman in the city look at you like you mattered.

“I just went for cereal,” you whispered.

She swallowed. “Don’t do that again.”

“Wanda…”

“I know this is fake,” she said, suddenly. “But I can’t—God—I can’t lose things right now. Not when everything else is one misstep away from collapse.”

Your heart cracked a little. “You’re not going to lose me.”

She looked at you—really looked. “Promise?”

You hesitated only a second. Then: “Yeah. I promise.”

She stepped forward. Her hands hovered for a second. Then she reached up, brushing soaked hair from your face. Her fingers were gentle. Warmer than you expected.

. . .

The rain didn’t stop for days.

New York blurred behind glass and gray skies, and inside the penthouse, the world shrank to the soft glow of lamps, the smell of tea, and the quiet comfort of silence not needing to be filled.

You’d never thought this would be the hard part. Not the paperwork. Not the parties. Not even lying to strangers about how you fell in love.

No. The hardest part was the quiet, the nights, the moments when Wanda was close enough to touch, but never did.

Not unless she had to.

Not unless the cameras were on.

But lately… there were no cameras, no one to watch and she was still close.

You found her in the kitchen again, barefoot, robe loose over silk sleepwear, stirring honey into her tea like it was a ritual.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked.

She didn’t jump. Didn’t act surprised to see you, even though it was just past midnight.

She glanced over. “Didn’t feel like dreaming.”

You frowned. “Bad ones?”

Wanda didn’t answer. She just passed you a mug—yours already waiting, already right.

No cream. Two sugars.

Your fingers brushed as you took it.

“I don’t like the sound the rain makes up here,” she said after a long moment. “Too high. It feels detached.”

You looked at her, then the view—sheets of rain washing over floor-to-ceiling glass, city lights blurred beneath it all.

“It’s loud at my old place,” you murmured. “Leaks through the window. But it feels... real.”

Wanda was quiet for a while. Then, barely above a whisper:

“Do you miss it?”

You blinked. “The apartment?”

“The space that was yours.”

The question hit deeper than it should have.

You shrugged. “I miss knowing which drawer held my socks. And that my silence was mine.”

She nodded once. “I miss things too.”

You waited. But she didn’t say what.

The power flickered a few minutes later.

Just long enough to shut off the lights, stall the heater, and kill the wifi.

You sighed. “Well. That’s our cue to pretend it’s the 1800s.”

Wanda rolled her eyes faintly but led the way to the hallway. “I’ll call maintenance.”

The bedroom you used—your room—was freezing. The rain made the windows weep. You wrapped yourself in two blankets and still shivered under them like your body had forgotten warmth.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock.

Wanda stood at the door, robe belted tighter now, a blanket over one arm.

“Heat’s out across the building,” she said. “It’ll take hours. Come to my room. The windows don’t leak there.”

You hesitated.

She added, gently, “You’re freezing.”

You didn’t argue.

Her bed was huge. More cloud than mattress. The kind of thing you had to climb into like a boat. Wanda didn’t say anything when you slipped under the covers, just turned off the lamp and got in beside you—far, far to the left, leaving oceans of space.

You laid there in silence.

Listening to the rain.

Feeling the quiet pulse of her presence, steady and near.

Then—after what could’ve been minutes or hours—she spoke.

“I used to picture this differently.”

You turned your head toward her in the dark. “What?”

“Sharing a bed,” she said softly. “Waking up beside someone. It was supposed to mean something.”

Your voice caught. “Does it?”

Wanda didn’t answer right away.

Then, softly, like a truth she hadn’t let herself say:

“It does now.”

You swallowed, heart suddenly a drum against your ribs.

The air shifted.

She didn’t move. Didn’t reach for you. But she didn’t move away, either.

Your fingers curled on the sheets. You didn’t touch her.

But you wanted to.

God, you wanted to.

You woke up before her. She was still on her side, facing you now, her hair a dark halo on the pillow. The early light barely touched her face. She looked peaceful in a way you’d never seen—like the storm had finally quieted inside her too.

You watched her breathe for a moment too long.

Then you slipped out of bed.

Made coffee.

Waited in the kitchen, hands wrapped around the mug she’d usually hand you.

She found you there twenty minutes later, sleep still in her eyes, robe loose, bare feet quiet on the floor.

“Morning,” she said softly.

“Hey,” you replied.

And then— she walked straight to you, took your coffee from your hands, took a sip and handed it back.

Your heart clenched.

Because it was exactly how you liked it, exactly how she liked it.

And she hadn’t even asked.

. . .

“Dress nice. 10 AM. My driver will take us.”

You stared at the handwriting for a full minute before turning to the small Pomeranian she hadn’t meant to adopt but had anyway, who now followed you around like you were the stable parent.

“Is she kidding?” you asked the dog.

The brownish fur ball barked and walked off.

The brunch was at a discreet little brownstone tucked between galleries in SoHo—charming, sunlit, deceptively casual. The kind of place rich people used to pretend they weren’t rich.

Wanda met you by the car. She wore soft ivory trousers, a long cream coat, and a small gold chain at her throat. She looked casual, effortless.

And, of course, utterly composed.

“You look nervous,” she said, slipping on her sunglasses.

“I didn’t realize brunch was with royalty.”

“It’s just my godmother,” Wanda said lightly. “And her judgmental wife. And a few others who might ask why I never brought anyone around before.”

Your stomach dropped. “Is this… an approval thing?”

Wanda opened the door for you. “It’s a test.”

Your eyes widened, “And you’re telling me now?”

“I didn’t want to make you overthink it.” she replied way too cooly.

You glared. “I hate you.”

She smiled like it was affection. “That’s the spirit.”

It started fine.

A few raised brows. Too many kisses on cheeks. Someone complimented your coat and then looked pointedly at your boots like they were confused how you existed in both at once.

You held Wanda’s hand under the table out of habit now—because it looked right, because it felt expected. Because her thumb sometimes rubbed slow, silent circles into your palm when the small talk got suffocating.

You were halfway through a fruit tart when it happened.

Someone—Wanda’s godmother’s wife, you think—asked how the proposal went.

You froze.

Wanda answered too smoothly, never too quickly.

“She said yes before I finished asking,” she said, hand squeezing yours. “I think she knew I wasn’t bluffing.”

There were chuckles. Some “aww”s.

And then she added, without thinking:

“I think I fell in love with her the moment she argued with me in front of three board members.”

Your heart actually missed a beat at that.

Laughter rippled around the table again. You forced a smile.

But Wanda… Wanda looked at you then. Really looked. And her smile faltered just enough for you to know:

That part hadn’t been part of the performance.

You didn’t speak in the car on the way home.

The silence felt different this time. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just… held.

Like she was waiting to see if you’d bring it up.

And you didn’t. Because you didn’t know if it was safer to ask or pretend you hadn’t heard.

When you got back to the penthouse, you walked straight to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and leaned on the counter like it could hold up your confusion.

She joined you minutes later.

“You handled that well,” she said.

You gave her a tight smile. “I fake marry like a pro now.”

Wanda watched you. “You’re upset.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m confused.”

She took a step closer. “About what?”

You hesitated. Then: “You said you fell in love with me.”

Her throat bobbed.

“I thought the contract agreed,” you said quietly. “That there wouldn’t be feelings.”

“I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“But you did.”

“I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

That made you go still.

“I don’t know,” she said again, quieter now, “when it stopped being pretend. If it ever really was.”

You stared at her.

Because you felt it too. The shift. The touch that lingered. The glances that said too much.

But admitting it?

That would break everything wide open.

So instead, you reached for her hand. Threaded your fingers through hers.

And whispered: “Then let’s figure it out.”

Wanda’s eyes lifted to meet yours.

And for once, there was no wall. No act. No mask.

Just her, just you.

And a truth neither of you could keep quiet much longer.

. . .

You didn’t sleep in your room that night.

You didn’t talk about it either.

There was no declaration. No sly smirk. No half-joking excuse about the heat or the window draft.

Just a quiet shift in steps—her slowing down in the hallway, your hand on the door to her room instead of your own, and a breathless moment where neither of you asked why.

You just walked in.

Together.

She lit a single lamp—low, warm, soft.

The city shimmered beyond the window, gold and blurry in the glass. You sat on the edge of the bed, unsure what version of yourself to bring into this room.

Wanda sat beside you, her thigh barely brushing yours. You could feel the heat of her, even without touch.

“You’ve stopped calling it fake,” you said, voice quiet in the hush.

“I know,” she replied.

“Is that intentional?”

“Does it matter?”

You turned your head, met her gaze. “It does if I’m not the only one confused anymore.”

She inhaled like she was steadying herself. Her voice was barely more than a breath when she said:

“You’re the only thing that’s ever confused me in the right way.”

That did it.

Whatever wall you’d built—professionalism, control, fake-wifely detachment—it cracked right down the center.

You didn’t lean in.

She did.

Softly. Slowly.

Like she was asking for permission with every breath.

And when her lips touched yours, they didn’t feel like a contract. Or a line crossed. Or an obligation.

They felt like something that had always been waiting to happen.

The kiss wasn’t urgent. Wasn’t for show. It was warm, unhurried, tender in a way you didn’t think she even knew how to be.

Your hand found her jaw.

Hers curled around your waist.

When she pulled back, your forehead rested against hers.

You didn’t open your eyes.

You whispered, “I don’t know what this is anymore.”

She whispered back, “Maybe it’s something worth figuring out.”

The next morning, Peter was already at your office before you even got there.

Coffee. Concern. A look on his face that made you brace.

“I saw the photos,” he said before you could speak.

You gave him a weary look. “Which ones?”

“The ones where she looks at you like you’re the last person in the world who doesn’t scare her.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. “It’s complicated.”

Peter sat down across from you, voice quieter now. “Is it fake still?”

You looked down.

He exhaled. “Y/N…”

“I didn’t mean for it to change,” you said softly. “But she’s—she’s different when she’s not surrounded by suits and pressure. And I don’t know how to unsee that.”

“Do you trust her?”

You nodded. “More than I should.”

“Do you love her?”

You froze.

Peter didn’t push. Just let the question sit there, heavy and true.

That night, you found Wanda on the balcony.

Blanket around her shoulders. Hair loose. No wine. No screens.

Just her.

Just quiet.

You stepped outside, wordless, and joined her under the blanket.

Her hand had found yours and you let her hold it.

. . .

The kiss didn’t fix everything.

But it opened something.

You both felt it—that strange quiet after something real slips between two people who swore they were just pretending. You didn’t talk about it the next morning. You didn’t have to. The air had changed.

So had the way she looked at you across the table.

Not calculating. Not possessive. Not even curious anymore.

Just soft.

Like you were hers in a way that didn’t need words.

You started cooking more.

It began with late-night pasta, just because she came home looking too tired to pretend she’d eaten. Then it was pancakes on a Sunday, because she’d mentioned—offhand, distracted—that her mother used to make them that way when it rained.

She didn’t say thank you the first time.

She just sat beside you, her fork slow and quiet, and said:

“You remembered.”

Like that was rarer than any gift she’d ever been given.

The first time she touched you without a reason, it was barely anything.

You were washing dishes, elbow-deep in soap, and she walked past—hand brushing across your lower back as she passed.

She didn’t look at you.

But she didn’t need to.

Your heart stuttered anyway.

At night, she started falling asleep before you.

You could tell by the way her breathing slowed, the tiny crease in her brow fading under the weight of whatever peace you’d somehow become for her.

And you—God—you watched her like she was a miracle you hadn’t asked for but were suddenly terrified to lose.

Some nights you stayed awake just to feel the way her hand would reach for yours, even unconscious.

Like some part of her had already stopped pretending.

She didn’t pull away anymore.

Not when your knee brushed hers at dinner.

Not when you leaned against her shoulder during a movie.

Not when you walked into the room after a shower in her shirt, hair still dripping, and she paused like the world went quiet just seeing you.

“Wanda?” you asked.

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re staring.”

She smiled. “I know.”

And then came the night it stopped being something between you.

And became something shared.

You were curled on the couch, her head on your lap, fingers lazily playing with the edge of her sweater. She was half-asleep, wine glass abandoned on the floor, a soft playlist humming in the background.

You thought she was dreaming until she said:

“I want you to stay.”

You looked down. “I live here, remember?”

She shook her head against your thigh, eyes still closed. “Not for the contract. Just… stay. Tonight. Tomorrow. And the days after.”

You brushed a hand through her hair. “Is that a new clause?”

“It’s not fake,” she murmured.

And when she opened her eyes—tired, raw, full of something too fragile to name—you knew:

She meant it.

Every word. Every glance. Every touch.

So you leaned down.

Kissed her like you weren’t afraid anymore.

Like you’d already chosen her in a hundred quiet ways.

And when she pulled you down beside her—blanket tangled, breath shaky, heart finally, finally open— You stayed.

Not as her employee, not as her fake wife but as someone who loved her and wasn’t going anywhere.

[sapphicandgraphic]

Sick As A Dog—Chapter 1

Synopsis: You’re a dog walker. When your favorite clients notice you’re not feeling well, they insist on taking care of you.

Chapter: 1/?

Warnings: Sick!fic, lots of hurt/comfort fluff in the beginning, protective Natasha, protective Wanda, maybe things get sexy later? (Who are we kidding, they absolutely will. Mommy Wanda, Daddy Natasha, anyone?)

Your alarm clock was blaring when you woke up. You blinked slowly, groggily, the last tendrils of sleep refusing to abate. You glanced at the time and swore softly, realizing you’d overslept.

As soon as you were upright, a searing pain shot through your head. You winced, reaching for a glass of water. You took a few gulps, registering more pain as you swallowed. A sore throat.

“Oh no,” you groaned, scrubbing a tired hand over your face. You’d gone to bed early last night, hoping to curtail the symptoms you’d been stubbornly ignoring for the past few days. Clearly that strategy hadn’t worked. Now you’d have to pay the price.

You dragged yourself upright, wandering into the kitchen to make a quick cup of coffee. Yelena was sitting at the island, scrolling on her laptop.

“I’m late!” Your voice was hoarse, raspy. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

The blonde barely looked up from her inbox. “Why do you sound like the crypt keeper?”

You laughed, but this quickly dissolved into a dry, wheezing cough. Yelena frowned, fixing you with a perturbed look.

“You’re sick,” she said.

You shook your head. “I can’t be sick.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re a dog walker, not a heart surgeon. You can take the day off.”

You snagged a protein shake from the fridge, choking down a few sips.

Yelena grimaced. “Seriously, go to the doctor.”

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted.

Your roommate muttered something in Russian. “Whatever. Just don’t die ok? I can’t afford this place without your half of the rent.”

You knew her well enough to recognize this blunt directive as her version of affection. Yelena was actually a big softie, once you got past the very rough exterior.

You’d met at a bar playing darts a few years ago, drinking everyone else under the table. By the end of the night, it was settled. Kindred spirits like that only come along every so often.

“If you want the rent money, I have to walk the dogs. See how that works? We can’t all be BitCoin miners or whatever the hell it is you do.”

She gave you the finger. You blew her a kiss and walked out the door. In truth you had no idea how Yelena made her money. It had something to do with finance, maybe crypto? Your eyes glazed over whenever she tried to explain.

The sky was threatening rain when you hopped on your bicycle and began the journey into Manhattan. The clouds opened up and started pouring just as you arrived at your first client’s house.

“Come on, Pepper,” you said, coaxing the ornery Pomeranian into her rain gear. “Let’s get this over with.”

By midday your symptoms had worsened. The dull ache that started in your chest slowly spread to your shoulders and back. The wet chill of the day seeped into your bones as you stomped up and down the streets of the city, soaking your rain coat, slicking your hair to your forehead.

Most of the time, you loved your job. Being outside, running around with dogs. But today was proving to be brutal. By the time you finished your last walk, you could barely see straight. You unclipped Oscar’s lead in the entryway of the massive brownstone, shutting the front door and leaning against it heavily.

The Rottie mix bounded into the living room, straight to his toy box, and brought you the squeaky plush raccoon—his favorite—depositing it at your feet like an offering. When you didn’t pick it up immediately, he nudged it closer with his nose and whined.

Despite the pain radiating through your body, you chuckled, shaking your head. “Not right now, bud.” Your voice was low, hoarse. His big square head tilted to the side in confusion.

You grabbed a towel from the hall closet, then knelt beside Oscar, removing his raincoat and wiping the mud off his paw pads. He waited patiently, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

“There ya go,” you said, dismissing him with a weary pat. You groaned, pushing yourself off the floor. Just that simple action required almost all your strength. Your head felt like it was full of concrete.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket. You checked the message blearily, realizing there were several of them. All from Yelena.

10:20am

Text me when you finish your route.

11:42am

And take the train home, you can’t bike in this weather.

2:15pm

Are you alive?

3:30pm

Hello????

You were about to reply when Oscar barked impatiently. He had trotted into the kitchen and was waiting to be fed.

You sighed, slipping your phone back into your pocket. You just had to finish up here, then you could head home and collapse into your bed. Take the weekend to recover. This was the mantra you’d been repeating to yourself all day. Now you were in the final stretch, you could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

But you felt so achy. And your mind kept wandering, losing track of what you were doing. You glanced into the living room longingly. What if you just laid down on the sofa for 10 minutes? Surely Wanda and Nat wouldn’t mind.

They were your favorite clients, after all. Practically family, considering Yelena was Nat’s sister. You had attended dinners and parties in their home before. Maybe it would be totally acceptable to crash out on their expensive, luxurious sofa…

A roll of thunder overhead snapped you back to reality.

“Feed the dog,” you sighed, worried your foggy brain would forget if you didn’t say it out loud.

You slipped off your muddy boots, then padded down the hallway. You made it to the kitchen feeling out of breath. Leaning over to grab Oscar’s food and water bowls, the world suddenly tilted sideways.

“Whoa,” you muttered, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter.

Oscar barked once, twice.

“It’s okay,” you said, trying to soothe him even as your vision swam. He turned and bounded out of the room.

You closed your eyes, then reached for the bowls again. This time you managed to set them on the counter. Mission half-way accomplished. Slowly you breathed in, willing the room to stop spinning.

The unexpected sound of footsteps on the staircase roused you from your stupor. You heard Wanda saying your name, a fact that would have startled you under normal circumstances. After all, the house had been empty when you arrived. But all your senses were dulled.

“Is that you?” She called. “I’m glad I caught you, there’s leftovers in the fridge and Nat wanted me to make sure you took them home.”

She was walking down the hall, Oscar trailing behind, and you dimly realized you should say something. But before you could form a coherent sentence, she paused.

“Sweetheart?” Her voice was different now—uncertain, confused.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you called, trying to sound normal, trying to muster the strength to stand upright as you leaned heavily on the counter for support. “In here.”

Wanda rounded the corner, carefully scanning the kitchen. When she finally saw you hunched by the sink, she stilled.

“Hey, Wanda,” you said with a little wave. You tried to smile. “Sorry, I was just…”

You trailed off, losing the plot mid-sentence. Even at full strength, you would have found the sight of the other woman distracting. But given the state you were in, you stood practically no chance. She was wearing a loose denim shirt with both sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Her hair was pinned back, and she had a pair of reading glasses perched on her head. You realized you were staring and closed your mouth, looking away as an intense shiver wracked your body. Wanda’s eyes narrowed. You gestured weakly to the dog bowls on the counter in front of you.

“Just about to feed Oscar,” you finished, hoping you didn’t sound as miserable as you felt.

Wanda watched as you struggled to push yourself upright. You took a few unsteady steps toward the pantry where they kept the dog food, then swayed like you might fall. The other woman stepped toward you instantly, catching you around the waist. She could feel how hot you were through your shirt.

“Let me do that,” she said. “You sit down, before you fall down.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she was gone before you could get the words out. You sank onto the nearby barstool, legs feeling like jello.

As soon as you were down, you worried you wouldn’t be able to get back up. It felt so good to be off your feet.

When Wanda reappeared, she was still looking at you with the same expression as before—suspicion edging toward concern. But she knew you well enough to guess that outright fussing would be met with resistance. You were private. And you had a stubbornly independent streak. She’d have to play this one carefully to avoid scaring you off.

“Long day?” She asked.

“I’m fine,” you said mechanically. “Just tired.”

She set Oscar’s bowls on the floor, then fixed you with a glare.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Well, I am,” you argued. “Perfectly fine.”

That earned you a small smile. She shook her head, took a deep breath like you were trying her last shred of patience.

“Prove it,” she said.

You scrunched your face up in confusion. Wanda tried very hard not to find this adorable.

“If you’re fine, prove it,” she elaborated, speaking slowly so your fuzzy brain could follow along.

“How?” You whined, rolling your eyes.

“A minute ago you it seemed like you couldn’t even pick up Oscar’s food bowls,” she shrugged. “So, show me something that a ‘perfectly fine’ person could do.”

“Or what?” You said, trying to buy yourself some time.

She sauntered toward you. “You’re not leaving this house,” she said slowly, enunciating each word. “Until I’m satisfied that you’re okay.”

A ripple of defiance propelled you off the barstool. As soon as you were standing, black dots gathered at the corners of your vision. You ignored these, taking a step forward. Then another. And another. You were almost in the hallway. It would have been a very impressive exit if you had managed to stay upright.

From faraway you heard Wanda cry out, her voice muted by the fuzzy ringing in your ears. The next thing you knew, you were on your back, looking up at the kitchen skylights.

Wanda dropped to her knees beside you. She called your name, brushing your hair back and feeling your forehead. Your cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy.

“See,” you said, slurring slightly. “Perfectly fine.”

She didn’t laugh.

“You have a fever,” she said, words clipped. “How long have you felt like this?”

You shrugged. “Few days.”

“Days,” Wanda repeated faintly, trying to quell her outrage. Something about the flash of anger in her voice made you recoil.

“Don’t be mad,” you said, feeling pathetic.

She softened instantly, schooling her face into something gentle.

“I’m not mad, milaya,” she rasped. “Just worried.”

You opened your mouth to protest, to say there was no reason to be worried, just as another violent shiver wracked your body. Your teeth chattered.

“You and Nat,” she murmured, tracing her thumb across your cheek. “Refusing to admit you’re not invincible.”

You looked away. With sudden horror, you realized you were close to tears. Thankfully, Oscar reappeared in the room just then. He ran to your side, licking your face and furiously wagging his tail.

“Honey, I’m home!” A familiar voice called from the entryway.

“Speak of the devil,” Wanda breathed, and you could see the relief in her eyes. Now that they outnumbered you, maybe you’d listen to reason.

“Hey, did Yelena call you? She left me a weird voicemail,” Natasha said. There was a soft clatter as she placed her keys in the ceramic bowl by the door. “She’s worried about our little wolf -“

“In here, Nat,” Wanda said impatiently. “Need your help.”

Little wolf? Before you had time to question it, Natasha appeared, looking devastating as always in a fitted suit. She had clearly come straight from the office. Her smile vanished as she entered the kitchen.

“What happened?” She demanded, skidding across the tile. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Wanda said, just as you said “Yes.”

Natasha looked between the two of you, confused.

“She fainted,” Wanda explained, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I didn’t faint,” you grumbled, insulted by the prissy word. “Just got dizzy.”

Wanda and Natasha ignored you.

“Should we take her to urgent care?”

You groaned, horrified by that idea. You rolled sideways, trying to push yourself up off the floor. Natasha laid a hand on your chest. When you kept struggling, she reached over and pulled you firmly into her lap, anchoring you in place.

“Stay,” she said, her voice a stern rumble.

Natasha had a soft spot for you. Wanda had teased her about it at first. But as you became a more regular fixture in their lives, Wanda found herself feeling the same way—terribly fond, overly protective, almost possessive. And seeing you like this had them both in overdrive.

Natasha pressed the back of her hand to your forehead, eyes widening in alarm. “You’re burning up.”

“I’m fine,” you repeated, voice cracking with exhaustion. “Just tired. Need to sleep it off.”

Wanda stilled, tilting her head to one side.

“I…agree,” she said, giving Natasha a significant look.

You frowned, trying to follow the unspoken conversation they seemed to be having above you.

There was a loud clap of thunder outside. The noise seemed to settle things for Nat. She nodded, acting like a gavel had been struck, a decision reached.

“You hear that?” Natasha said. “Bad storm. Why don’t you stay for dinner? Once you’ve had a hot bath and a home-cooked meal, we’ll send you on your way. Deal?”

“You don’t have to do all that,” you objected, even as you curled slightly closer to Natasha, seeking her body heat. She ran an absent hand over your back, rubbing big soothing circles.

It was Wanda who spoke next. “We want to.”

You looked back and forth between their faces then heaved a sigh, suddenly too tired to argue anymore.

“Okay,” you said, voice small.

Wanda smiled, victorious. “I’m making stew! Something hearty, restorative. There will be potatoes and broth and—”

“Ok, babushka,” Natasha teased. “Your old country is showing.”

Wanda scowled, then stuck her tongue out, turning toward the cabinet to retrieve several pots and pans. The next second, Nat was helping you to your feet. She watched you carefully, troubled by how unsteady you seemed.

“Do you mind if I just…?”

She didn’t wait for an answer before scooping you into her strong arms. “Hey!” You cried, surprised. But a few seconds later you relaxed against her, eyes slipping closed as she carried you down the hall, then turned and started climbing the stairs.

“When’s the last time you ate anything?” She murmured against your hair.

You shrugged.

Her eyes narrowed. “Bad girl.”

The words made your breath catch. You buried your face in her shoulder, trying to hide flushed cheeks that had nothing to do with your fever.

Get it together, perv. Natasha and Wanda were trying to do something nice for you. Were they absurdly hot? Sure. Had you entertained an idle daydream or two about what it might be like to kiss them both? Of course. But that was no excuse for reacting like a horny teenager.

Natasha opened the door to one of the large bedrooms and set you down gently beside the bed. You thought she might leave, but then she walked into an en-suite bathroom and you heard the sound of running water.

“There are fresh towels and robes in here,” she called. “Can you get undressed or do you need help?”

You swallowed around a sudden lump in your throat. “I’m okay, thanks.”

She reappeared, smiling softly. “Do you mind if I stay? I don’t want to leave you alone. In case you pass out again, or slip, or…”

You gave her a tired smile. “You faint one lousy time and suddenly nobody trusts you.”

Natasha snorted, then turned and faced the wall for propriety’s sake. With shaky hands you began unbuttoning your pants.

“Yelena called me,” Nat said after a few moments. “She’s worried about you.”

You sighed. “Seems like there’s a lot of that going around today.”

Although you couldn’t see her face, you could hear the frown in her voice. “We care about you,” she said. “Is that so bad?”

You pulled your shirt over your head with a small grunt of pain. Natasha glanced back instinctively, catching a glimpse of your exposed stomach and toned abs, the low-cut sports bra showing off your curves. She sucked in a breath, feeling that inconvenient flutter again. It would help if you weren’t so pretty, she thought. Then she quickly turned around before you saw her peeking.

“Sorry,” you said, tossing the shirt on the floor. “I’m not very good at this.”

Natasha stilled, hearing the emotion in your voice. “At what?”

You gestured vaguely at the space between you.

“Making people worry,” you sighed. Again, tears suddenly pricked the corners of your eyes. It was a testament to how rundown you were, all these emotions roiling so close to the surface. Natasha heard the way your breathing changed, became ragged.

She said your name so softly it made your chest ache.

“Can I turn around?” She asked.

You crossed your arms, feeling exposed in just your bra and boxers. But you gave her permission anyway. You trusted her.

“Sorry,” you said, hitching on the word. “Just makes me feel like…a burden, an inconvenience.”

Natasha stepped toward you, enveloping you in a warm hug. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, detka,” she murmured. “And you could never be a burden to us. It’s okay to let people take care of you when you don’t feel good.”

You sagged against her. “Kay.”

You might have let her go on holding you all night. But then your stomach growled, and she chuckled.

“Come on,” she said, lips quirking up in a gentle smile. “Don’t want the water to get cold.”

——————

>> Want access to my entire fanfic library? Subscribe to Patreon for all stories and early updates! <<

[missmonsters2]

The Devil's Touch (18+)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader (College AU) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: The devil hides behind a friendly smile. You would've never fallen into the trap of student council president—Wanda Maximoff—if you had just kept your lips to yourself.

Please do not repost/translate anywhere. Reblogs/Comments are much welcomed ♥ 18+ ONLY. You are confirming you are 18+ if you continue reading.

Main Masterlist || Library Blog

Mini-Series Warnings: explicit sexual content, bottom!reader, reader is very sexually active (aka she's kind of slept with everyone), overstimulation, orgasm denial, oral (reader) giving & receiving, fingering, semi-public sex, possessive behaviour, dirty talk, voyeurism, biting, student council president!Wanda, douchebag men, bondage, slightly enemies to lovers.

Note: sorry for being horny on the main, but also, not really. This fic makes me feel like I'm back in 2016 and that was a dope time.

Part I of III

Count: ~6.3k

Wanda Maximoff was a safe choice.

Well, she should've been. After all, Wanda was student council president, the leading academic in her major, and incredibly kind. There's no shadow of a doubt that Wanda is the number one campus beauty everyone wants to date and yet remains unattached.

There were people who were far, far ahead of you in terms of looks, grades, and athleticism. If those people didn't stand a chance with Wanda, it would be laughable for you and impossible.

Not that you were interested. No, you hadn't bothered to get close to Wanda in any capacity despite being in the same program but a year younger.

Sure, Wanda was the ideal girl, but she was also distant, in your opinion. She smiled and smiled, never showing any personal disdain or discourteous behavior or thoughts.

Maybe girls like Wanda are empty shells that live to please others.

That's why Wanda Maximoff was supposed to be a safe choice. She would probably not approve, but the most you'd probably have to do is apologize sincerely with some explanation, and you'd be forgiven. You could then go your separate ways once more like perpendicular lines.

You press your lips insistently against Wanda's, music pounding in your ears, alcohol in your veins. She tastes like a candy apple—peach and apple schnapps with cranberry juice. There's something else you can't quite place because all you can think about is how soft her lips are.

Your eyes flutter open, drifting to the side to find Quentin scowling as he stands only a couple feet away. You refrain from grimacing as you break the kiss.

Wanda's eyes slowly open as she peers into yours. Her eyes glide to the side only slightly, catching the same scene as you. She doesn't say anything as you hover closely around her, knees bumping together. Your fingers slide against her jaw as you graze the tip of your nose against hers.

You're sharing the same air at this point, and you can't help but be like everyone else at that moment and think Wanda Maximoff is tantalizing—intoxicating. Her hands grasp your waist, fingers digging in a little too deep as she pulls you closer.

You can see Quentin approach from your peripheral view, and Wanda's already closed the space between you two. She kisses you more intimately this time, the initial shock wearing off. You're caught up in the kiss for a second, liking how her lips were warm, but her fingers were cool.

But for someone like you, reality tends to come back down faster. You see Quentin weaving through the crowd as he leaves, and you break the kiss. You pull away from Wanda's grasp as she opens her eyes.

There's a lingering tingle on your skin from her touch.

"Sorry," you give her a bright, fake smile. "I'm sure you know Quentin. He's been a real bother lately, and the only way he ever seems to give up is when he's up against someone he knows he can't scare away with his money."

Wanda doesn't say anything, merely peering at you, and you wonder if you've really made her upset.

"I hope the campus beauty can forgive me," you tell her encouragingly. "If not, I'll be sure to write a glowing review about how you saved me on the campus forum."

You don't say anything else as you leave, not even staying to see if Wanda will say anything. As you walk away, your heart pounds against your ribcage, a throbbing ache between your legs desperate for relief.

Kissing Wanda Maximoff was like vertigo. Your eyes lock with Carol in the kitchen as she's playing beer pong. You give her a half-lidden sensual gaze, and the blonde catches on right away, abandoning her game to meet you halfway.

You try to not think about how much you're hoping Carol can take the edge off because maybe there's a reason Wanda Maximoff should stay single. If her kisses could affect someone like that, well, you're sure humanity hasn't done anything good enough to deserve that.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The sunlight that catches through the tiny gap in the curtain wakes you as it blasts just perfectly at your face. You turn your head, finding a mass of blonde hair and a body half-covered by the blanket beside you.

Carol sleeps on unaware as you quietly and slowly sit up, slipping out of bed in your naked glory. You look around for your articles of clothing and begin to put them back on so you can leave this frat house and make it back to your own dorm.

"Running off without a word again?"

You snap your head back as you slip on your top. You find Carol awake, but she hasn't moved from her spot as she lifted her arms to rest under her head to give her more leverage to look at you.

You sigh, giving her a smirk. "It's our thing, isn't it?"

"Your thing, perhaps. I wouldn't mind if you stayed a little longer for another round," Carol winked with a smile.

You rolled your eyes. "Would love to but I've got the experience that whoever's bedroom this is will come barging in right before I get to cum. Not what I'm looking for on a Monday morning before my lecture."

"You're going today?" Carol genuinely seems surprised, and it makes you scoff at her.

"Yes, I have a test today," you roll your eyes before.

"I thought you were sleeping with your professor?" Carol mused.

"That was one time and we were drunk. I can get away with not showing up for class but I can't skip out on tests," you huff. "Still have to earn my grade."

You finish putting on your pants before looking at Carol once more. "I'll text you."

"Sure," Carol rolls her eyes, knowing full well you wouldn't. You never did.

You smile at Carol as you make your way to the door, liking her carefree attitude. It made sleeping with Carol much easier. "I'll see you then."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Come see me after office hours," Professor Potts says to you as you drop off your test.

You sigh but nod before you leave the lecture room.

Walking down the halls, you were staring at your phone and rolling your eyes at how Quentin was blowing up your phone. You quickly deleted his messages without reading them and blocked him.

"Ugh—" You grunted as you collided with someone. You hear things drop to the ground, and you look down for a second before you look back up in mild shock.

"Oh, sorry," your breath hitches slightly as you clench your teeth. "I should really watch where I'm going."

There's a friendly smile, and you feel your cheeks warm with irritation at the sight.

"No, it's my fault, I wasn't looking either."

You give a nervous laugh as you bend down to pick up the papers and books that dropped before a hand bumps into yours as you try to pick up a binder.

You yank your hand back and look up again to see a mild frown.

"Sorry, Natasha," you mumble. "I got it."

You hastily pick up the remaining things on the floor while Natasha grabs your phone that dropped.

"I think your phone is okay, there's no cracks or scratches but let me know if there's anything wrong. I'll pay for a new one," Natasha checks over your phone once more before she carefully takes the load from your arm while you grab your phone.

"I'm sure it'll be okay," you reassure her as you adjust your bag. "Anyway, sorry again for bumping into you. I gotta head—"

You were about to turn and walk past Natasha when she grabbed your wrist.

"Hold on," Natasha stops you, and you feel your heart leap in your chest. "We haven't talked since—"

You give her a look.

Natasha sighs. "Listen, I was an asshole back then. I've been trying to get a hold of you since."

"Why?" You ask her in a deadpan voice.

"I just...go on a date with me," Natasha started to say before she blurted out the last part.

You're momentarily shocked before you bark out a laugh. "That's rich, Natasha."

"I'm serious," the redhead tells you with a frown. "I was stupid back then."

You quirk your brow at Natasha.

"Yes, you were. I genuinely really liked you and I thought you liked me," you pull your wrist away from Natasha. "The second you heard a rumor about me sleeping with a TA and what? Suddenly I'm too trashy for you?"

"I know, I know," Natasha says slowly, so you don't walk away from her. "I should've known it wasn't true. But I was a TA for one of your classes, and I was at risk of losing my position. But I should've helped you clear it up but I didn't know."

You snorted. "Well, no worries, Nat," you give her a sickly sweet smile. "I don't sleep with TAs. Why bother sleeping with TAs when professors one-up them?"

Natasha purses her lips together because she had heard rumors that you had slept with a professor, but no one knew which one. Either way—

"I don't care who you've slept with," Natasha says finally and seriously. "If you still have any feelings for me like I do for you, just go on one date with me tonight. Let me show you I'm serious about you."

You peer at Natasha with your eyes slightly narrowed. Natasha was a rather touchy subject for you, and you didn't think someone could make you feel so humiliated (and not in a sexy way). You had been so bright-eyed when you were in your first year and crushing on Natasha Romanoff, your senior.

And you wonder that despite not being the person you used to be, the fact that Natasha was still a sore spot meant you still had feelings for her.

"Okay," you finally agree, and you watch Natasha breathe out with slight relief.

Giving you a smile, Natasha points at your phone. "Can you unblock my number so I can text you the details for the date?"

You feel your cheeks heat up, knowing that Natasha knew you had blocked her number. Nevertheless, you nod before you turn and walk away—unaware of the eyes trailing you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"That's all for today. Next week, we'll discuss the winter fundraiser."

The sound of chairs scraping against the floor grates on Wanda's ears as students get up and file out of the room.

"You seem to be in a rush," Wanda comments as she looks at the student council vice-president.

Natasha looks up at Wanda and tries to not smirk as she packs up her things. "I think you should be more in a rush. A busy-body like you must have something to do after this."

They're not quite friends. Acquaintances that work well together. The school has never been as prestigious as it has with Wanda and Natasha on the student council.

A part of Wanda, albeit reluctantly, admits that Natasha would've been president if she hadn't put a pause on her campaign to help a friend that was hospitalized.

"I do," Wanda reveals. "I'm going on a date."

"A date?" Natasha repeats surprisedly. "You're lying."

"Is it so surprising?" Wanda tilts her head.

"You haven't looked at anyone since you've arrived at this school. I should know. I've been in all your classes and even dorm mates for two years." Natasha shakes her head. "They must be really interesting."

"I think so," Wanda nods. "I've had my eye on her for some time."

"And you're just making a move now?" Natasha quirks her brow at Natasha.

"I didn't. She did," Wanda shrugs. "I was content to let her do her thing until we were done with school. But since she's made the first move, I'm certainly not going to let her slip away now."

Natasha laughs. "Poor girl. You're a relentless person, I wish her luck."

Wanda merely gives a toothy smile.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha: I have to help a professor with some paperwork for about an hour, but I'll come and find you after.

You: It's fine. I'll be in the D-Wing.

Natasha: I know which room. Haven't changed, huh.

You huffed, a slight scowl on your face. You don't dignify Natasha with an answer as you put your phone away. You stand before a closed office door and take a deep breath before you exhale and lift your knuckle to knock against the door.

"Come in," was the muffled answer.

You open the door and step in before closing it behind you.

Professor Potts, Pepper in private, looks up as if she's been waiting for you and takes off her glasses and gestures for you to sit down on her couch. You try not to sigh as you do, letting your bag slide off and land on the floor by your legs.

"What do you want?" You ask.

Pepper ignores you as she walks over to her minifridge. "Do you want something to drink? I have water, orange juice, or I can brew you coffee or tea."

"I'm fine," you decline. "What do you need?" You ask again.

Pepper looks disappointed with your answer, but you ignore it. She comes and sits in the lounge chair across from you.

"I wanted to discuss your attendance."

"Is there a problem with my grade?"

"No," Pepper says, a tinge of reluctance in her voice. "But you haven't shown up for a single lecture except for the first day."

"Do you blame me?" You raise a brow at her.

Pepper purses her lips as she stares at you. "I suppose not."

"I don't think you want me to be there either in a lecture so we can just stare at each other awkwardly. Why are you making it an issue?" You ask.

"Don't presume what I want," Pepper's tone borderlines snappy before taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"So, what?" You retort back challengingly. "You want your student you slept with during your trip to Toronto while we were drunk at a bar to sit in your lecture?"

"I didn't know you were my student," Pepper hisses.

"And I didn't know you were married!" You hiss back. "Married to another Professor here. I might add."

"I told you, we're separating," Pepper retorts, and you snort.

"Right," you drawl. "And next week, you'll be back together. Do you think I don't know about how on and off you are with Professor Stark?"

"We're not—"

"If you're going to lie, at least make sure you're not caught kissing in his classroom."

Pepper shuts her mouth, and you sigh.

"I don't know what you want from me," you start to say. "But I have no interest in being your sex buddy when you're not getting any from your husband. I don't like fucking with people who are attached."

"That's not—" Pepper turns red in the face from your words, but you cut her off.

"Oh? So, this isn't what I think it is?" Your expression shows you don't believe her words one bit. "You didn't have me come to your office after hours under the guise of telling me to come to your lectures when it's not required as part of my grade just so you could try to fuck me on this couch right here?"

Your vulgarity is so cavalier that it nearly stuns Pepper. And if she wasn't so fucking wet from your words, she would be angry.

You scoff as you grab your bag and stand up. "I'm not coming to your lectures and don't call after me anymore. Go make up with your husband or get a fucking vibrator."

You only take a step before Pepper stands up, pushing you back on the sofa. She's straddling you, flushed and irritated.

"Fuck, you're just as mouthy as that night," Pepper mutters, and you think Pepper's going to kiss you before there's a knock on the door.

The noise gets the professor scrambling off you as you sit straight and look towards the door.

"Um, office hours are closed," Pepper says to the door.

"I'm here to drop off a note for you," the muffled reply comes from the other side, and the voice is familiar.

Pepper looks at you for a second and fixes up her clothes once more, swiping at her hair to get it back in place. "Alright, come in."

The door opens with a click, and you're surprised to see Wanda Maximoff walk through with a folder in her hand.

"Oh, Wanda," Pepper smiles. "What are you doing here?"

"I was helping Professor Stark and he asked me to drop this off for you," Wanda answers with a pleasant smile of her own. Her eyes drift to the side for just a moment to lock eyes with you before she focuses back on Pepper.

"Oh, what is it?" Pepper asks as she takes the folder.

"Not sure, something about having a copy of your previous midterm being left around," Wanda shrugs.

"Oh, shit," Pepper looks through the papers. "I wonder where he found this. This would've been bad if it went around. Thanks for dropping it off."

Wanda shakes her head. "No worries. You should really consider changing up your questions."

Pepper laughs. "Perhaps if you have time to look over the material with me. You were my best student."

Wanda smiles. "I'll see if I have time."

Pepper is about to say something else, but you stand up, seeing it as an opportune moment.

"I should get going, Professor Potts. Thanks for answering my questions about the test," you say, and Pepper looks irked with you but can't say anything with Wanda standing there.

You catch eyes with Wanda again, her intense orbs following you as you walk out the door. You walked and walked until you reached the empty room 616 of the D-Wing. Finally, alone, you let out a heavy sigh. You were so glad Wanda had arrived. Otherwise, you probably would've slept with Pepper again or caused a scene.

Pepper was attractive, and the one-night stand you had with her was undeniably hot, but you hated being involved with people who were attached to other people. It was too messy, and you didn't like the hurt that it caused.

"You seem to be a trouble magnet."

The sudden voice makes you jump as you turn to see Wanda standing behind you.

"Oh, uh," you stuttered and groaned internally. You took a breath to calm yourself. "Trouble?" You repeat after, choosing to play dumb.

Wanda tilts her head as she peers at you as if she's amused you were playing dumb with her. She walks closer to you, and you involuntarily take a step back as she backs you against the edge of the desk.

"You seem to do this often," Wanda comments, her voice low, and husk.

"Do what," you reply, trying to lean back to put more space between you and Wanda, but the other girl locks you in with a hand on either side of you against the desk.

Wanda leans in, and you can smell her minty breath and smell her perfume. It's crisp like bergamot and peaches.

"Rile people up so they can't forget you and then leave them hanging," Wanda whispers before she closes the distance, kissing you deeply. Her lips consume you as she kisses you so intensely with intent. She moves her lips against yours, her tongue licking the length of your bottom lip before she sucks.

You groan momentarily before you pull back with a gasp. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you," Wanda says as if it should be obvious.

"I got that," you snap at her, but Wanda doesn't seem offended by your outburst. "I'm asking why you're kissing me, or why do you think I want to kiss you?"

Wanda chuckles throatily as she presses her body against yours, rubbing herself against you gradually. You can feel her chest and pelvis grind against you, making your breath hitch.

"Because you're mine to kiss," Wanda tells you incontestably. "You didn't seem to mind kissing me yesterday."

"I apologized!" You hiss at her, and Wanda shrugs.

"I don't forgive you."

"Then what the hell are you doing?" You scowl at Wanda, and she sighs. You think she's going to get off you, but she only insistently kisses your jaw. "You don't even know my name!"

"Of course I do," Wanda drawls before saying your name. "You're in your third year and roommates with Sharon Carter. Doing well in all of your classes, and you're in the films club though you only show up every other month. Just last month you were seeing Quentin Beck, though you never slept with him, did you?"

"How did you—"

"You think I wouldn't know a junior in my program?" Wanda peers at you. "You often come to the department night events. Are you telling me you didn't notice me?"

You don't say anything because, of course, you noticed her. Only the blind and deaf wouldn't notice Wanda Maximoff.

"Look," you struggled to say while Wanda kissed your jaw, starting to trail down your neck. "I don't understand what you want. If this is about yesterday, I'm seriously sorry. I get it, I shouldn't have kissed you like that last night. I get it, it's not okay."

You didn't think the most popular campus beauty could be like this. Wasn't she supposed to be nice and forgiving?

Wanda huffs as she looks back up at you. "You think I'm kissing you to teach you a lesson?"

You look at her, giving her an expression as if asking what else it could be for.

"You've got it all wrong," Wanda shakes her head. "I'm kissing you because I want you. I've wanted you for a long, long time. If you had just kept your lips to yourself last night, I would've waited longer for you. But since you've gone and tempted me—well, you know what they say about temptation, right?"

The way Wanda stares at you, her eyes piercing and possessive, you realize a little too late that the campus beauty was no angel—unless she was a fallen one.

No, Wanda Maximoff was a devil in disguise.

Wanda grins at you, knowing you've realized it.

"Don't tempt the devil."

Wanda leaves you with those words to haunt your mind before she kisses the corner of your lips, and you can feel her breath over you, teasing you. Her hand moves from the edge of the desk to your waist, and you can feel her warmth seep through your clothes.

All you can see, smell, and feel is Wanda. She's infiltrating every single one of your senses, relishing in her seduction of you. Wanda's lips descend upon yours once more, and now you can taste her. She tastes like mint, and it's crisp before it dissolves into something sweet.

You groan into your mouth when Wanda bites your bottom lip, almost punishingly, and you can't even fathom what crime you might've committed before she soothes it over with her tongue. And when her tongue slides against yours, you feel your thighs clench in anticipation.

"I'm going to ruin you right here and now," Wanda breathes into your mouth. She's panting, breathless from kissing you, and you absently think about how she's all you can hear now.

"Ruin?" You hear yourself repeat dazedly.

Wanda hums throatily. You feel her other hand on the zipper of your jeans, and your heart jumps in your chest.

You need to stop this—stop Wanda.

"Do you want me to stop?" Wanda whispers; the question caresses your lips. "Do you want me to stop touching you? Stop kissing you? Tell me to stop right now before I touch you the way only I can touch you. Stop me before I get on my knees and set your body on fire."

"Fire?" You whimper because, despite Wanda's demand to tell her to stop or not, her hand has already disappeared into your jeans. Her fingers touch you intimately through your panties, smirking at how soaked they are already.

"Fire," Wanda repeats back to you. "Angels make you see stars. And, well," Wanda chuckles. "I'll make you see flames." She rubs her fingers back and forth, and you find yourself grinding your hips down in sync, desperate for more friction.

"Tell me what you want," Wanda demands softly, and you feel her fingers slowing, and you want to curse yourself for almost whimpering for her to continue.

What the hell was wrong with you?

But the way Wanda stares at you brings the hot fire in your stomach you felt when you kissed her yesterday. It brought the fire that even Carol couldn't extinguish despite the multiple orgasms she gave you.

Wanda smiles like she knows this blaze you feel inside you can only be extinguished by her. A fire engulfed by a bigger fire.

"Do devils need to ask for permission?" You snap at her, angry for your incapability to shut down your desire for Wanda Maximoff.

"Everyone does," Wanda cocks her brow at you. "Maybe others might ask for the right reasons and sweet eyes, but not me. I think you know I want you to say yes as much as you hate yourself for it. As much as you think I'm terrible, that you don't understand me, you want me to touch you. That's what I want from your yes."

You swallow the permission on the tip of your tongue because it hits you fast that you have to say no.

Natasha.

You're supposed to meet up with Natasha in this very room. You're supposed to be going on a date with Natasha; give the redhead a chance to show she was serious about you.

It was everything freshman you wanted.

But you were no longer a freshman, and you were no longer the girl that mooned over Natasha innocently.

You look at the clock behind you and see there's still time before Natasha is done.

"You have 20 minutes," you tell Wanda, your brow raised to see if she'll accept her time limit. You were powerless to your desire to say yes, but you could still control how your 'yes' went."

"In a rush?" Wanda asks with a brow raised of her own.

"Yes, I'm meeting up with someone for a date," you say bluntly, and Wanda chuckles.

"Not very kind of you to get thoroughly debauched before the date," Wanda comments, and you shrug.

"It's a date, not my wedding."

Wanda doesn't seem to care either way before she resumes kissing you, pulling her hand out to tug your jeans down until it pools at your feet. Pushing you back, Wanda scoots you until you're sitting on the desk, and she freely caresses your calf up to your thigh. She drags her hand, squeezing at random as if to test the softness and tenderness of you.

Wanda leans her body against you, pushing and pushing until you're lying on your back with her on top, her gentle weight pressed into you.

You find yourself getting lost in her, just like you did yesterday night. You wrap your arms around her neck, shivering at how her hair tickles your arms.

You can't help but think you're kissing Wanda Maximoff. You're actually kissing her and have your legs wrapped around her waist. Wanda Maximoff was going to fuck you.

Wanda starts to kiss your jaw and down your neck, hovering there and taking a deep breath.

"I want to drown in you," Wanda moans, nipping and sucking at the skin.

"Don't leave a hickey," you warn her.

"Keeping me a dirty little secret, are you?" Wanda muses.

"Isn't that what we are?"

"For now."

Wanda listens to you and refrains from leaving any visible marks on your neck. Her hands slip under your blouse, her fingertip dragging up your sides before she grabs both your tits in her hands and squeezes, and you shiver. Your nipples become hard underneath your bra, and you're sure Wanda could feel them through the fabric.

"I want to do so much to you," Wanda sighs, truly saddened by her lack of resources. "I'd take you home with me right now if I could. Keep you in my bed and fuck you with my strap until you couldn't walk to your lectures tomorrow."

Wanda feels your thighs clench tighter around her and grinds herself against you, her pelvis placed perfectly to stimulate your clit.

"I'd take you just like this, slow and rough, and watch what kind of face you'd make as you came." Wanda's hands push your bar upwards, palming at the skin she's uncovered. You want to tell her just to take your fucking shirt off, but you're not sure if you want to be completely naked in this empty classroom.

"I'd take you from behind too, pressing you into my bed and making you take it."

You moan, letting Wanda's words paint a picture for you.

"I bet you'd want me to pull on that pretty hair of yours and make you tell me how good it feels."

Wanda pulls back for a moment, and you're confused before she hooks her fingers on both sides of your panties, rips them down, and tosses them on your jeans.

It's almost embarrassing when Wanda spreads your legs and gazes at your swollen sex, wet from your desire.

"Stay on your back," Wanda instructs you as she kneels on the ground between your legs, pulling them until you're just slightly off the edge.

Your body feels flushed from all the heat, but it's nothing compared to when Wanda's fingers explore brazenly between your folds. Her middle and ring finger slides over the ridges of your pussy up and down a few down, drawing lubricant around her digits before she presses against your clit.

You inhale a sharp breath, thigh twitching.

"Cute," Wanda mumbles, her eyes briefly looking up at you. You seem dead set on staring at the ceiling, fingers holding the edge of the desk but not gripping them the way she wants you to. Yet.

"So soft," Wanda sighs, pleased. Leaning forward, Wanda presses a gentle kiss against your clit before fastening her lip around it and sucks delicately, tongue flicking at it.

"Oh, fuck," you curse, hissing as your hips buck, but Wanda moves her hands around your thigh to keep you down.

Your breath becomes erratic, moaning softly as Wanda continues her actions until you're so close before releasing your clit, and the pressure lessens.

You whine and can feel Wanda laughing, her breath ghosting over your pussy.

"I want to make use of every minute you gave me," Wanda says before her tongue flattens against you and begins lapping you.

"You taste just perfect," Wanda moans, her thighs clenching together, desperate for her own release. "I can't believe I was going to wait until we both graduated."

Wanda's words don't make sense to you. Wait, for what exactly? This?

You hear a creak, but Wanda's tongue dips at your entrance, pushing slightly in, and you moan. Your hands fly to her head, fingers weaving through her hair as you grind your hips against her face.

"So perfect, so pretty," Wanda mumbles, her lips dragging up to your clit again. The way her nose bumps against the nub first sends a shiver through you. You know your wetness must be coating her mouth and nose, and the thought of it makes you feel hotter.

The fire inside you feels like it's growing, and you're whining at Wanda to do something about it.

"Shh," Wanda coos at you. "I'm going to take care of you. You're being such a good girl right now."

You moan, unabashed at how the words make you feel, and Wanda grins.

"That's it, be good for me and only me, and I'll make that hot fire in you go away."

You just feel so fucking empty that—

"Inside," you whimper. "Wanda, please, I need—"

"Oh, I know what you need, sweet girl," Wanda purrs. "What you need is something only I can give you and I think you know that now that you've gone and kissed me. It was just a taste but you couldn't control what happened after, could you?"

Your chest rises and falls dramatically with each breath, your eyes fluttering closed as you let Wanda's words fill your head and bring you closer to the edge.

Wanda stands straighter as she hovers over you. One hand presses against the desk by your shoulder while her other fingers enter you, two fingers slipping inside with ease as you suck her in greedily.

"Oh, fuck, yes," you hiss, your hips moving in sync with her fingers.

"You kissed me so prettily last night, and then you ran off, but the fire in you started then, didn't it?" Wanda mutters down to you. She doesn't seem to be expecting answers from you, and you're glad because all you can really focus on is her fingers rocking inside you.

"You were just like this under Danvers but as much as she made you come, that fire didn't go away, did it?"

Your eyes flutter open then because how the fuck did Wanda know? But Wanda's staring down at you so possessively, it only adds to your edge.

So many people have stared at you like this, but it meant nothing to you. They could never really have you. But Wanda? It was so certain.

"No one can make it go away," Wanda tells you, her fingers pumping faster, curling inside you as she drags against your walls. "No one but me."

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to falling over the edge, and you clutch at Wanda's blazer tightly, your legs clenching around her.

Wanda's fascinated and obsessed at how you look as you come undone beneath her. She can't stop thinking about when she gets you in her home, in her bed fucking you exactly like she said she would. She wants to see how you look on top, riding her and working for your release.

It was all going to be hers.

You clench around Wanda's fingers, mewling desperately as you pull her down into a searing kiss.

Wanda can't help but sigh in thought that you really should've kept your lips to yourself. You'd be able to go about your ways just a little longer if you had.

Because now, Wanda was never going to let you go. No one could have you anymore. Not Carol, not Pepper, not nameless nobodies, and especially not Natasha. And Wanda briefly glances back to the door. She hopes the redhead understands now how much you don't belong to her.

When you finish riding your wave, you feel almost numb. That flame that licked at you was quietly dissipating.

You break the kiss, panting. Wanda pulls her fingers out slowly, earning a small moan from you as she gives you a chaste kiss and trails down until she's on her knees again.

"What are you doing?" You ask, trying to catch your breath.

"I still have seven minutes."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"I still have seven minutes."

Despite the vulgarity of it all, Natasha can't stop watching. No matter how angry she is, she can't stop staring.

It's only through the tiny gap in the door, but Natasha could see it all. She could see your face and the pleasure that wrought it. She could see your thighs trembling, and the sounds of your moans and whimpers haunted her.

That should've been her.

But Natasha doesn't blame you.

No.

Natasha was aware the change in you was because of her. She felt responsible for your coldness and careless attitude.

If Natasha had never broken your heart and trust, that would be her inside that classroom right now, fucking you the way Wanda was.

This was Wanda's date?

Have you double booked yourself, Natasha wondered?

Natasha had ended earlier than she thought as she made her way towards the D-wing with anticipation. She hadn't bothered texting you that she was on her way, but perhaps she should've.

The door was open partially, and Natasha had found that strange as you always kept the door closed. And when Natasha heard the moans, she thought she was actually at the wrong room.

It had been just a peek, and Natasha couldn't stop watching.

Natasha had heard it all, the rumors about you and your bed partners. Some were entirely disrespectful, and some were in reverence. In the end, it all translated into how sought out you were. How attainable and unattainable you were.

But to Natasha, that had only ever meant one thing: you were always hers.

And the redhead has missed you ever since she stupidly let you go. Being cut out of your life meant she could only chase after you slowly.

Natasha watched as Wanda's head moved between your legs as you mewled and your legs trembled.

Wanda was just another one of the people who wanted you but couldn't have you.

She had to be because you were hers, and she couldn't fault you for getting one last fling in.

Natasha's been steady and patient—a fling wasn't going to deter her from trying to win you back.

Natasha glances at your ecstasy-ridden face once more, her fingers flexing at her side before she blows out a silent breath and wills her feet to move away from the door and outside the D-Wing.

She pulls out her phone.

Natasha: Just finished. I'm on my way. How about that pasta place you really liked?

[makeitmakesomesense]

Rarely

Natasha Romanoff x Reader + WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Day 7: I've merged a lovely request from a lovely friend with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 7th of January, which is 'alpha'.

.

‘Is this seat free?’ 

You could tell from her voice. The confidence, the heat behind it. You could just tell.

.

‘Sure.’ You gave a shy smile and hurried to clear the tray with empty mugs that cluttered the table. 

Her hand brushed your wrist. 

‘Let me?’ She offered, taking the tray and walking it back to the coffee shop counter.

Your stomach did nervous flips as you watched her walk away. 

She’d left her leather jacket hanging over the back of the seat opposite you. Underneath was a white tank top. Her long red braid found a space between her toned shoulder blades. 

You watched her lean over the counter to the barista and order something new. Her smile was quick and easy to appear. She was making the barista laugh. Her ear piercings glittered under the lights as she laughed too. 

You pressed your tongue hard against your teeth and tried not to look nervous as she walked back. 

You only noticed the second mug when she put it down in front of you. 

‘I got you the same as before.’ Her voice rasped.  ‘As a thank you.’

‘Oh.’ You stammered unsurely. ‘You didn’t need to thank me for that.’ 

The woman leaned back against her seat, her posture far too relaxed for the hard backed seat. Her head tilted and she smiled. She shrugged and took a sip from her own drink. 

You dragged your focus down to the book you were supposed to be reading. You could barely make out the blur of words on the page. You bit your lip and willed yourself to think about the story you’d been enjoying until a few minutes ago. You were just sharing a table, it didn’t mean anything.

At last, you finally immersed yourself back in the story. You lost track of time, before suddenly remembering the coffee that you hadn’t got to yet. You reached out absentmindedly. The back of your hand brushed someone else’s. You startled immediately. 

A gentle touch guided your hand to your own coffee mug. 

‘That one’s yours.’ She told you, her eyes sparkling with obvious enjoyment.

‘Right.’ You swallowed nervously, throat suddenly too tight to even try to take a sip. 

‘My name’s Natasha.’ The woman told you then. 

‘Y/N’ 

It took a moment for you to realise her hand was still touching yours. Your breathing went shallow. She was leaning forward in the white tank top.

‘Natasha.’ You repeated dumbly.

Her head tilted as she waited for you to say something else. You tried to think of something, anything to say, anything else to focus on.  Your eyes caught on the dangling trinket close to the area you were trying not to stare at.

‘I like your necklace.’ You said lamely. Natasha’s eyes crinkled with pleasure. Her thumb brushed the back of your hand. 

(You went home with her.)

.

It was easy to follow Natasha. She was the alpha type. Her shoulders always relaxed, a smile ready whenever she wanted it. A look in her eyes that promised to tell you everything. 

You didn’t worry about making it anything official. You wanted to like how easy it was.

Sometimes she’d call and meet you some place. The boardwalk, a museum. You’d spend the afternoon together and enjoy the simplicity of it all. Walking with her arm around your shoulders and her fingers draped for you to play with absentmindedly. The soft squeeze of affection when you said something that made her laugh. 

She remembered your coffee order, from that first day. She’d rattle it off along with her own in cafes and restaurants, like it was second nature to her. 

You learned how to use the coffee machine in her apartment. How to run your fingers through her hair and kiss her at the crack of dawn, so she’d stay patiently in bed and wait for you to come back with two hot mugs. 

.

Everything was easy with Natasha. Until it wasn’t.

.

You met Wanda on a Friday evening. She broke your heart. 

You knocked on Natasha’s door, wondering if she might be free.

A beautiful redhead answered. Not the one you’d been expecting. 

You heard the words come out of your mouth. 

‘Is Natasha in?’

You looked at the woman, long hair rumpled and in nothing but an oversized shirt. A shirt you’d borrowed once before. 

She opened her mouth to answer. 

You didn’t wait to hear it. You left with tears of embarrassment and hurt already streaming down your cheeks. 

You ignored your phone the next time Natasha called. And the next. 

It was embarrassing. It was meant to be easy. There’d been no rules with Natasha. It wasn’t her fault you’d caught feelings.

.

You went to your favourite cafe the next day, trying to shake off the moroseness that you’d woken up with. 

The barista smiled at the sight of you. She made your order before you asked for it. That was something. 

You found a table in the back corner, took out your book and tried to reset. You lost yourself in someone else’s story.

‘Is this seat taken?’

You could tell from her voice. The confidence, the heat behind it. 

It was Natasha. Your stomach twisted with panic. You closed your book and rested it on the table.

You looked up and met her gaze. The easy smile was long forgotten. Her stare was heavy. Her brow creased in worry. 

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ You said carefully.

‘Please.’ She tried again, voice gentle. Her fingertips brushed the edge of the table.

You felt yourself start to tremble as tears threatened. You tried not to look at her.

‘It’s just.’ You started shakily. ‘It’s just - I think I like you a lot more than you like me.’

There was a pause. Then, you felt Natasha’s hand cover your own, still resting on the cover of your book. She brushed the back of your hand more softly than you had ever been touched before.

‘I don’t think that’s true.’ She murmured. ‘Not at all.’

You met her stare and wondered if anything was true. You wondered if it was wrong to trust someone because of the way they touched you.

You swallowed again and nodded once.

‘Okay, you can sit.’

Natasha did.

She talked about the things you didn't know. The things she should've told you. It was simple when she laid it out. Not complicated or cruel. 

She loved Wanda and Wanda loved her.

They were happy, the easy kind of happy that comes along rarely. 

You nodded when Natasha said that, feeling an imaginary knife twist inside you.

Natasha paused for a moment. 

‘Rarely.’ She said carefully, her fingers finding yours again hesitatingly. They tangled together in a way that made your heart thump loudly. ‘Rarely doesn’t mean just once.’

They were looking for something else. Someone else. Natasha had met you and known immediately. It was hard to know how to ask. How to explain the situation. 

Sadness tugged at Natasha’s gentle smile.

‘That’s why she was there. We wanted to tell you. We wanted to ask you then.’

For the first time, you watched Natasha hesitate. She took a deep breath, trying to find the words.

You leaned forward. You let your thumb brush the back of her hand. 

‘Tell me about her?’ You asked softly.

Natasha’s eyes closed for a second, she squeezed your hand gently. A small smile appeared on her face again.

‘I don’t know where to start.’ 

You thought about the woman you’d seen for the briefest moment. Your instant recognition of her undeniable beauty. The calmness that had radiated from her. The obvious empathy in her eyes that had stung so badly before. 

Natasha hesitated and then she asked more tentatively than ever.

‘Would you - Would you like to meet her?’

.

Wanda entered the cafe with a clear nervous tension. She scanned the room for a moment until her gaze met yours. She gripped the strap of her handbag tightly.

You smiled shyly and watched her loosen with sudden relief. You gave a small wave and watched her fingers loosen immediately to return the gesture. 

You felt Natasha’s pleased attention shifting between you as Wanda walked towards the table. She walked with a simple poise that you could tell was natural. Her long auburn hair was gathered into a claw clip at the back of her head.

She took the vacant seat next to Natasha. 

Wanda looked at you, with a kind of intensity you’d never experienced before. Then, she gave you a hesitating, hopeful smile. 

‘Hi.’ She said, glancing to Natasha beside her for reassurance. Her shoulders relaxed again when she met Natasha’s smile.

‘Hi.’ You replied, skin humming with anticipation. Your fingers tapped nervously on the cover of your book.

Wanda glanced down at the new drinks already on the table; Natasha had brought them over moments before. 

She looked at the mug of hot tea waiting for her, and then the coffee sitting beside you.

‘You like coffee?’ Wanda asked uncertainly, clearly trying to find a piece of conversation to begin with.

You smiled. You glanced at Natasha and then back at her. You reached for your mug and brought it to your lips. You shrugged.

‘Yes. But I like tea too.'

.

(You went home with them.)

You already knew how to use the coffee machine at their apartment. How to run your fingers through their hair and kiss them at the crack of dawn, so they'd stay patiently in bed and wait for you to come back with three hot mugs. 

.

.

Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

.

[wandaslovey]

ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ᴅᴇᴛᴋᴀ?

➺ dom!wandanat x sub!fem!reader

word count ~ 7.2k

summary: as you settle into your relationship with your two new dominants, they want to show you it’s not all about kinkery. however, their plan backfires when you run into an old friend while on a picnic date. it seems..necessary for them to remind you of who you now belong to.

authors note: part 3!!!! i cannot apologize enough for how long it took me to get this one out! writers block had me in a chokehold and then choke slammed me onto the table. i hope this lives up to the hype! <3 this part takes place a couple of months after the contract has been signed. this is not proofread.

content warning(s): legal age gap, dom/sub dynamics, mommy!wanda, daddy!natasha, sub!reader, subspace, some fluff, jealous wandanat, sort of punishment? (more like claiming), possession, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, light bondage, dirty talk, a teensie weensie bit of aftercare

venturing is inevitable: masterlist

═════════════

you hear light chuckling in your left ear, followed by the sensation of gentle kisses being bestowed along the right side of your face. you make a small sound, your nose scrunching at the attention your face was getting. you peek your eyes open, blinking rapidly as you adjust to the morning light bathing the master bedroom. the curtains were light, allowing the sun to stream in and brighten the room as it rose with the day.

“good morning, dragotsennaya,” you hear natasha murmur in her warm voice. in the near 2 months you’d moved in with the power couple, you’d since learned the russian term of endearment meant ‘precious’ which would then usually be tossed in different variations like “precious girl” or “precious thing.” you’d melted when you first learned what they meant. both women truly did view you as the most precious, adorable thing on earth.

“mmm, morning,” you mumble out, closing your eyes again and turning on your right side to face wanda. she was still planting gentle kisses on your cheeks and nose, trying to coax you from your peaceful slumber.

you’d grown used to sleeping between them. there was a spare bedroom for their submissive should they choose to use it, but you never wanted to be apart from them, so you always opted for sleeping in their large bed with them—which they never complained.

when you stubbornly refused to open your eyes despite wanda’s incessant kisses and natasha’s hand running up and down your arm, wanda opts for something else to get you awake and out of bed.

“you know what sounds like a good breakfast this morning?” wanda begins her little game, her tone of voice easily catching your attention as she speaks over you to address her wife.

“what’s that?” natasha plays along, quickly gathering where wanda was heading with her little quip.

“waffles.. with chocolate chips..” wanda speaks slowly, glancing down at your face with a grin as she notices your eyes peel open, a cute smile of your own gracing your lips.

“i’m up!” you proclaim cheerily, quickly sitting up in bed. the covers fall off of you, revealing the simple tank top they’d redressed you in after last nights “activities.”

they both chuckle affectionately at your sudden wakeful state simply at the promise of having your favorite breakfast.

“i’ll race you downstairs.” natasha challenges in a low voice, a teasing grin curling her lips upward as she throws her legs over the bed and briskly heads for the bedroom door.

“no! i wasn’t ready!” you squeak, clambering up out of the bed. you barely register the cool air on your naked legs, just a pair of panties covering your lower half. natasha has mercy on you, allowing you to all but shove past her to throw open the door and run down the stairs.

wanda calls after the two of you, telling you to be careful, but you both ignore her, throwing caution to the wind as you hurry down the stairs.

there were many things you’d come to learn about both wanda and natasha in the months you’d been here. one of them being that natasha hated to lose. she was as competitive as a person could be, so when she saw you land on the hard wood flooring after leaping off the last step, she put more force into her jog and made up the extra space between the two of you.

just as you were about to make it to the kitchen, natasha comes up behind you and wraps her arms around your torso. she effortlessly lifts you up and drops you off to the side, setting you off balance. before you can scramble to get back on course, natasha had already successfully set foot in the kitchen, making you the loser.

“hey, that wasn’t fair! you cheated!” you protest, crossing your arms over your chest as you march over to where she was standing by the kitchen island. she wasn’t even winded.

“i didn’t cheat. it’s called strategy.” she grins, tapping your nose. you huff at her response, swatting her hand away from your face.

“that’s a load.” you grumble, your eyes narrowing at natasha’s haughty expression. a flicker of sternness passes over her face as you hit her hand away, as if she was a little surprised at your audacity.

“i’m going to let that slide, only because you have the most adorable sore loser face…” her firm expression turns back into an amused look as she leans down and gets close to your face. you pout as she mocks you, her lips kissing your adorable droopy lip before she pulls away, intent on starting breakfast.

wanda makes her way down the stairs and to the kitchen, following the sound of light banter. she comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing your jaw. your wrap your arms around hers, melting back into her affection as you watch natasha gather the ingredients for the waffle mixture.

“natalia, dumayu, segodnya ya khochu poprobovat'.” she speaks over your shoulder in their secret language. it frustrated you just as much as it turned you on. whenever they didn’t want you to know something, they’d revert to speaking in russian.

once, you’d questioned how they both knew the language. you were surprised to learn that it was actually natasha’s native language and that wanda had learned it when she studied abroad in russia for two years—where they’d met.

you wished you could learn the language, if nothing else to de-code the secret remarks they’d make right in front of your face, but you weren’t patient enough to try and learn a second language.

natasha smiles at whatever wanda said, simply nodding her head. you feel wanda’s hands slide back a little bit, her fingertips making their way beneath your tank top to caress the soft skin there. you shiver, goosebumps rising on your arms at the delicate touch. her hands travel further upwards before descending back down your sides. she gives your hips a small squeeze, planting a kiss on your head before unwrapping herself from around you all together and pulling away.

you frown at the loss, turning to face her before she can walk away. you reach for her hands, your expression silently trying to convey your wants.

she chuckles at your pleading look, giving your hands a squeeze. “i have to help make breakfast. you wanna help me and daddy?” she asks in a gentle voice, her thumb rubbing across the back of your hand.

between wanda’s affection and the use of their honorifics, you could feel the beginning stages of that foggy feeling in your brain. you simply nod your head, allowing wanda to pull you further into the kitchen.

you all weave gracefully through each other as the three of you make breakfast, almost like it was a practiced routine. you took notice of natasha’s lingering hands on your hips as she snuck behind you and the way wanda gently held your hand to whisk the ingredients in the bowl before letting go.

it took a little bit of time for you at first to comfortably transition from having a clear head to a foggy one—one that relied so heavily on wanda and natasha that you deeply craved to be told each and every move to make—but you quickly became fond of it. they were your safe space and maybe the only place where you could fully allow all your inhibitions go.

natasha sets the table with plates and kitchenware just as you and wanda scooped up the last batch of waffles from the hot iron.

“kay, bring these over to daddy.” wanda turns you towards the kitchen table, patting your bum as you walk away obediently with the plate of waffles. you bring the food over to the table, setting the plate next to some fresh fruit and the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.

one thing you’d learned about wanda was that she loved to garden, so whenever produce was involved it usually came from there instead of the store.

as you move to sit down, natasha is hasty in slithering to sit in the chair before you can, pulling you back into her lap. you smirk, wiggling your hips back against her.

“what? i can’t feed myself?” you joke, twisting your body so you can face natasha just as wanda takes the seat adjacent to you both at the end of the table.

“no.” she replies simply, taking you a bit off guard. your remark was meant to be a light quip, but natasha seemed serious in her reply. without any further explanation, she grabs a plate from the small stack set in front of you and uses her fingers to grab two waffles to put on the dish.

you watch as she uses the fork to cut a square off the waffle before stabbing it through the center and bringing it up towards your lips. you press them together stubbornly, feeling embarrassed at the notion of being fed like a small child.

you were very independent by nature, having had to learn how to care for yourself at a very young age. the way wanda and natasha had the tendency to coddle you was pleasant, but still slightly foreign even after these past months.

natasha sees the internal conflict flicker over your face, coloring your features with a stubborn expression. she was learning though that at your core, you wanted to be a good girl.

“open up, detka,” she coaxes, delicately twirling her fork in teasing manner. you frown slightly, glancing from the fork over to wanda as if you were looking for her to intervene. she simply nods back towards the fork in an encouraging manner, not providing you with the out you were looking for.

figuring you should just bite the bullet and let natasha feed you, you part your lips and accept the bite of waffle she was offering you.

“we thought we could have a picnic lunch at central park today—does that sound fun?” wanda asks casually as she serves some berries on her plate. you nod your head in agreement, always eager to spend extra time with them on the weekends when you had no school and they didn’t have to go into the office.

as natasha continues to feed you your waffle, she sneaks in bites of her own. wanda reaches over after you swallow your last bite, holding a raspberry just inches from your lips. you don’t hesitate this time to open your mouth and allow her to feed you the berry. you chew the fruit thoughtfully, swallowing it and you notice wanda has a pleased expression on her face.

“you’re awfully cute, milaya, you know that?” wanda traces down the slope of your nose, gently pinching the softest part before dropping her hand. you open your mouth to protest, but knowing what you might say, natasha quickly feeds you another bite of waffle. you turn to face her, narrowing your eyes slightly at her playful force feeding.

you finish the rest of your breakfast without protest or complaint, allowing the two of them to spoil and baby you. once everyone was done, you all help to clean up the table. you always did your best to do your part, helping around the house and cleaning up after yourself. plus, you liked doing everything with them. you never wanted to miss a moment.

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

you rock back and forth on your toes, waiting for wanda and natasha to finish gathering all the things you need for the picnic. your hand is on the garage door handle, the door gently swaying from left to right as it rocks with your own movement. you feel carefree, not a single worry in your head. that was mostly thanks to both wanda and natasha coddling you this morning, but it was also the fact that you knew there was nothing to be stressed or worried about as long as you were with them.

natasha had dressed you today. it was late spring, so it was finally okay weather for things like summer dresses. you had on a maroon spaghetti strap dress going down to your mid thigh. you didn’t normally wear anything red or within the family of reds, but natasha insisted the color looked beautiful on your skin tone.

“i see someone is ready and eager to go,” natasha comments as she and wanda finally walk down the hallway leading to where you were standing by the garage door.

“i am! let’s go already!” your excitement is clear in your tone. it was the first day all week the three of you had time to really connect and unplug from all other responsibilities. you were waiting on pins and needles for finals to be over so you could finally enjoy your summer break, but for now—weekends would suffice.

natasha pinches your side on the way out as you hold the door open for them, wanda affectionately grabbing your chin and giving it a small squeeze. you follow after wanda, the door swinging shut behind you.

“can i drive??” you ask eagerly, already heading to the drivers side even though you hadn’t yet received an answer. they had three cars—one for natasha, one for wanda and one for “joy rides.” it was an indulgence natasha simply could not surpass, since she loved driving fast and had a secret love for lavish cars. she didn’t take it out much and you had yet to see wanda use it, but despite your desire to obey traffic laws like speed limits—you did want to try driving it someday.

“we’re not taking that car, bunny. we’re taking wanda’s. c’mon let’s go.” natasha gestures for you to get into the backseat on the drivers side. she started calling you bunny shortly after her and wanda both observed you hopped around like a little bunny whenever you were on your way to or fully in your floaty headspace. it was cute, but you had yet to admit to either of them just how much you liked it.

you pout at tasha’s response, but otherwise swiftly obey and climb into the seat behind her. despite it being wanda’s car, whenever the three of you went anywhere, natasha always drove. she claimed it was because she liked driving, but you were almost positive it was really because she didn’t think wanda drove fast enough.

“here, baby.” wanda stretches the cord for the aux cable so it can reach you. you slide to the middle seat, grabbing it from her and plugging your phone in.

as natasha pulls out of the garage, you buckle before either of them can throw a stink about it.

“what’re we feeling today?” you ask, referring to the music. you took having the aux very seriously. you never wanted anyone in the car to be having a miserable time listening to your music, so you always aimed to please to the best of your ability.

“not country.”

“anything really.”

the two of them answer in unison. you smile to yourself, your finger resting up against your lip as you scroll through different playlists, trying to decide what to play. you settle on your “vibey” playlist which had a lot of alternative and electronic music on it. it was one of your favorites to listen to.

you spend the first part of the drive staring out the window, watching the landscape as it zooms past the glass. it didn’t take long for you to start singing quietly to yourself—a habit of yours when you were zoning out. wanda notices immediately, smiling to herself and glancing back at you from the rear view mirror. trying to be discreet, she reaches for the volume, turning it down ever so slightly so she could hear you better. you didn’t like to sing for people, despite being told you had a good voice. you were sure people were just saying that because that’s the nice thing to say to people.

you stop singing altogether when wanda turns it down just a tad more and you suddenly decide your own voice sounds much too loud.

wanda scoffs, rolling her eyes as she turns her neck to look back at you. “you little sneak. why won’t you let us hear you sing?” she asks, seeming all too interested in your secret talent.

you shrug nonchalantly, flicking an imaginary piece of lint off the hem of your dress. you didn’t want to tell her it was because you were embarrassed. you’d learned that admitting such a thing would only lead to being more embarrassed about the thing you were already embarrassed about.

“i’ve heard her sing.” natasha cuts in, both you and wanda looking to her.

“you have not.” you rebuttal in disbelief, looking at her in the rear view mirror.

“i have. you sing in the shower.” she says simply, a smirk curving her lips upward. she seemed all too amused at your reaction for your liking.

“i’m so quiet when i sing in there! there’s no way you can hear it..” you insist, though really you were trying to push to see if she was being honest or just pulling your leg.

“it’s not too quiet when i have my ear pressed up against the door.” she sniffs, the car slowing down as you approach the city. the traffic would slow the drive immensely.

this side of natasha surprised you at first—the silly, almost boyish attitude she seemed to have at times. wanda’s personality was more straight forward. there were some things that surprised you and would probably continue to surprise you—but natasha? the many aspects of her personality were being peeled back layer by layer. in less than three months you’ve learned there’s much more to her than the big, scary, intimidating lawyer she was at the office.

“wow. just wow. thanks. now i have to revert to only singing whenever i have the house to myself.” you roll your eyes, only jokingly exasperated. natasha blindly reaches back behind her, squeezing your knee. you nudge her hand away, scooting so you weren’t so accessible.

“now that you said that, i’ll have to install cameras in the house—catch you in the act. i don’t want to miss anything.” she says, grinning to herself at the thought.

“hey!” you unbuckle your seatbelt, sitting forward and smacking her on the arm. “do. not. even think about it.” you try to sound stern, but it pales in comparison to how either of them sound when they mean business.

natasha locks eyes with yours in the rear view mirror, her expression easily meaner than yours. “do you want to try that again, little girl?” you cower immediately, sitting back against the back seat, your shoulders slumped forward.

you give her an apologetic look through the mirror, folding your arms in your lap.

“put your seatbelt back on, detka.” wanda commands in a gentle tone—more gentle than natasha’s tone just was. you’re hasty to comply, the buckle clicking in place just seconds after she asked you to. you were so obedient more times than not. it was something they both loved about you. you still had your testy moments, but by enlarge you really did like being their good girl.

many stoplights and cutting people off later, you arrive at the park. natasha parks in a metered spot on the south side. you hop out of the car, bounding off in the direction of where you intend to set up for the picnic.

“(y/n), slow down! wait for tasha and i.” wanda scolds you gently. you skip back over to her, almost running right into her side as you approach. “carefully bunny.” she steadies you but you can hardly care as you grin up at her, simply excited to be here with them.

“alright, let’s go.” she laces her fingers through yours with her free hand, the other carrying the blanket you would all sit on. natasha walks in front of the two of you, leading the way as she carries a decent-sized cooler in her hand.

once you make it to the grassy area, wanda picks a spot, laying the large blanket out neatly so there aren’t any lumps or wrinkles. natasha sets the cooler down and you plop down before the two of them have even begun to sink to the ground. you open up the lid to the food basket, setting out the plastic cutlery. wanda helps you divvy out the food—sandwiches and fruit. you pour yourself some homemade sweet tea, taking a sip and humming appreciatively to yourself. everything tasted better when it was made from wanda’s hands—or natasha’s for that matter, but wanda did much more cooking and food prep than natasha did.

you take a bite of your sandwich, wanda briefly explaining something about a client to natasha as you nibble away at your food. you were in your own little world, happy and content to be just where you were with the women you were with.

you were chewing another bite when someone from a distance shouted your name. natasha caught onto it before you did, her eyes scanning through the people scattered across the grass in small groupings.

you hear it the third time, relinquishing your hold on your sandwich to search for the person belonging to the voice calling your name. you press your hand against your forehead, attempting to shield the brightness of the sun so you could see better. your eyes suddenly zero in on the person shouting for you. it was your old roommate.

“hey!!!” you call back after her, leaping to your feet and half running the distance over to where she was standing. the two of you embrace happily, and you feel her squeeze you tightly before finally letting you go. you loved your old roommate. she was exactly the sort of person you wanted in your life forever. you wondered what she was doing back here so soon after moving back home.

“what’re you doing here?? did you bring your family?” you ask her, glancing around to see if you saw anyone else you recognized. she explained that she was with her parents and was going to spend the weekend taking them to the many touristy places the city had to offer.

as the two of you catch up, you excitedly relay to her how your studies were going and how the one professor that seemed to have it out for you was now much less harsh with feedback and grading. you left out the detail about how natasha was the one to take care of that—not feeling quite up to explaining your current situation with the two most respected and feared lawyers in new york city.

“so did you find a new roommate? i know the rent is damn near impossible to cover on your own..” your friend asks casually, flipping her pretty hair behind her shoulder. there was a time when you had a little crush on her, but she never knew about it.

“oh! uh.. not exactly. but! i did find a way to continue paying for it..” you reply vaguely, clearing your throat as you try and quickly think of a new topic of conversation. she beats you to it.

“what do you mean? did you finally cave and start selling feet pics?” she playfully nudges you with her elbow, reminding you of an old joke you used to pull out often. you laugh with her, though yours sounded a little nervous. you didn’t want to tell her how your rent, tuition and student loans were currently all being paid by previously mentioned, hot, successful lawyers.

it was a battle you picked with the two of them for weeks, insisting they didn’t need to pay for any of your things. however, the persisted and ultimately made you agree to the fact that, as long as you were their submissive, all of your financial needs would be taken care of by them.

“no, it’s not that,” your nervous laughter dies off and you awkwardly scratch the side of your arm, glancing in the direction of where wanda and natasha were sitting. your roommate follows where your eyes go, her own widening in slight surprise as she connects the dots.

“holy shit—are you with them??” she asks, vaguely pointing a finger in their direction. you shrug, smiling sheepishly as you suddenly feel like a little kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“girl—what?! how??” you laugh lightly at her eager interest, placing a hand on her arm as you shush her. her excitement caused her voice to raise about two octaves.

“keep your voice down..” you chide although with a smile still on your face. you weren’t sure how to begin telling her the story. there was so much to it. you take a breath, preparing yourself to share the condensed version, but as you glance in wanda and natasha’s direction again, you notice the two of them are staring at you intently. the intensity of both their looks causes goosebumps to rise on your arms, your spine straightening. it was an unspoken command to come back.

“i probably shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.. but i’ll call you soon and we’ll continue to catch up, yeah?” you smile, though you suddenly feel rushed to get back to your girlfriends’ side.

your roommate looks at you suspiciously but agrees nevertheless to have you call her another time. she pulls you into another embrace, and you give her a friendly squeeze, silently conveying your love and appreciation for her. you say your final goodbyes, your hands reached out to hold the other before dropping as you walk your separate ways.

as you approach the two women sitting on the quilted blanket, you opt for heading towards the one who currently has the more welcoming energy—natasha in this case—plopping down next to her.

“who was that?” she asks, looking back in your roommates direction as she walks off to meet back with her parents.

“my old roommate.” you reply simply, intent on returning to eating the sandwich you were enjoying before you got up to greet your friend. as nothing but silence met your response, you look up and glance in between wanda and natasha. wanda had a strange expression on her face—one you hadn’t seen before. her eyes were hard and serious, her lips pressed in a firm line, but there was something of a daring glint in her eye as if she was thinking something she wasn’t going to say out loud.

“you two seemed close,” she blurts out after several seconds. you take a bite of your sandwich, the food sitting heavily on your tongue as you chew it slowly. there was something about the change in wanda and natasha’s demeanor—wanda’s especially—that had you feeling a little uneasy.

“i mean, we lived together so we became kind of close. she’s a great friend.” you keep your tone light, sensing there was some.. jealousy? you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was they were feeling about your interaction.

“you’re not..jealous..are you?” you look at wanda as you ask the question. natasha looks to wanda too, knowing all too well what was running through her mind.

wanda looks off into the distance, squinting slightly at the brightness of the sun and she smirks. “jealous? no. i just haven’t ever seen you interact with another girl your age before. i’m not sure i like it.” her tone was thoughtful, almost reminiscent. you study her expression, unsure how to take what she said before she inclines her head back towards you.

“oh.” you reply stupidly, no other response coming to mind. your eyes drift from wanda’s, looking off in the distance now just as she had before.

“(y/n).” wanda calls your attention back to her. your eyes snap back to her impossibly green ones.

“yes?” you reply softly.

“you belong to me—to us. you know that, don’t you?” she asks, sitting forward so she was leaning in your direction.

“yes.” you respond, nodding your head in quick agreeance.

“yes, who?” she prompts, quirking a perfectly kempt brow at you.

you swallow thickly, your eyes darting around your surroundings to see if anyone was standing close enough to hear. when your eyes meet wanda’s once more, you have a slight nervous expression on your face, feeling embarrassed at addressing her with her honorific in public.

“yes, mommy.” you relent with a quiet reply, wanting to please her despite your discomfort.

“say it all together now.” she directs, reaching out to grab your wrists. she guides you forward, pulling you till you’re sitting in her lap. you can’t help but glance anxiously around the park, hoping that nobody was paying close attention to this public display of affection.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, the pink color on your cheeks complimenting the maroon dress you had on.

“i belong to you, mommy—you and daddy.” you half whisper, squirming in her lap as you fiddle with your dress, making sure all the important parts were still covered.

wanda smiles, pleased with your response despite your shyness. she caresses the back of your head, pecking your lips before looking over your shoulder to natasha.

“we’re going home.” she announces with an air of finality, leaving no room for questioning.

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

the drive back home was silent. you buckled in before natasha put the car into drive. wanda never offered you the aux, so you watched out the window quietly the whole way home. you were squirming in your seat, sensing a certain type of tension you were only now becoming accustomed too. you knew you weren’t in trouble, but something was going to happen. you were sure of it.

as natasha pulls into the driveway, you can feel butterflies flapping around in your stomach. there was dull ache between your thighs as you thought of the way wanda responded to your impromptu conversation with your old roommate. you didn’t realize it before now, but you decided you liked the idea of being owned—possessed. which was exactly what wanda was aiming to convey.

natasha puts the car into park and just as you’re unbuckling your seatbelt, wanda turns back to face you. “head straight upstairs into our bedroom. don’t take any clothes off for now. just wait for us on the bed.” she instructs you. you nod your head and hop out of the car, quickly making your way to the master bedroom from the garage.

your footsteps are quick and calculated; they echo off the walls as you bound up the stairs. as you approach the bedroom, you push open the door which was open a crack already. the bed was made and the room was free of clutter. normally this scene of cleanliness and order would put you at ease, but now, it only reminded you of the two women downstairs—and how neat they liked things to be kept.

you swallow thickly, turning to face the door as you sit on the end of the bed. your legs dangle just slightly, the bed tall enough that your legs didn’t quite reach the floor. you bounce one of them nervously, chewing on your bottom lip as you eye the open door. you can hear the garage door closing, indicating that wanda and natasha were now inside the house. you hear them exchange some words, though you’re unable to make out anything as it’s in russian. you can make out the sound of some rummaging, like dropping down bags and setting keys on the table. every second that passes, you feel your body growing more tense with anticipation. your eyes fall to the floor, focusing on one spot in which you make out imaginary shapes and lines.

your eyes snap back to the door frame when you hear two sets of footsteps heading up the stairs. from where you were sitting, you’d be able to see them as soon as they stood on the landing. you mentally brace yourself, your every sense alight.

it’s natasha you see first. her shoulder length blonde hair in delicate curls that frame her pretty face. her face is smooth, giving nothing away as her green eyes lock onto yours. you only glance away once wanda steps into view, her eyes appraising your compliance; you’d done exactly what she asked you to do.

natasha steps directly in front of you, her face a head above yours. you tilt your head up to look at her, your eyes alert and observant, but you’re unable to hide the gnawing sense of nervousness coursing through your body.

natasha leans down, your faces now just inches apart. she licks her lips, watching your cheeks bloom with color at her closeness.

“are you nervous, dragotsennaya?” her accent bleeds into her words, causing your thighs to clench unconsciously. you shrug one shoulder in a noncommittal gesture.

“maybe a little bit…” your voice is soft and delicate which doesn’t exactly not align with just how you’re feeling in this moment.

“maybe a little bit?” natasha echoes your words in an equally soft voice, her switch up of tone indicative of faux sympathy. your bottom lip juts out at her obvious teasing and your eyes dart to the side in search for wanda’s.

“you guys aren’t mad at me, are you?” you search for the gentleness normally residing behind wanda’s stare as you look at her. you can see a glimmer of it, but mostly you see a darkness there—something you’ve only gotten a small glimpse of before. it was the sort of look that made your bones melt, like she was silently trying to communicate her need to devour you.

“oh sweet girl.. we’re not mad at you. we just want to make sure we properly convey the way in which we own you.” wanda says, her words meant to be somewhat placating, but they had the opposite effect. she stalks towards you, standing right next to her wife. you look between the two of them with a blank expression on your face, your heart now beginning to race in your chest.

“i’m…i..i know that..” you sputter out. natasha reaches a hand up, rubbing her thumb along your bottom lip as you look at her wife with a pleading expression. pleading for what? you’re not sure.

“i know you do, baby. i just want to hear you say it over and over again…” wanda leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that surprises you. your body leans back with the force of it, your hands hesitantly coming to rest on her biceps. wanda captures your wrists with her hands, pinning them behind your back as she nudges you back against the bed and covers your body with her own.

you whimper as she parts your lips with her tongue. the kiss was slow but forceful, your mind becoming cloudy the more she explored your mouth.

her free hand comes up and grabs under your chin, holding your face in place so you can’t escape even to take a breath. you were more so used to this aggression from natasha, not wanda, so it surprised you when she suddenly bit down on your lip, the force of it causing you to moan in surprise.

she breaks free, your lips parting with a resounding pop before she kisses down your neck. you gasp for air, your hands twitching in her grasp as they yearn to tangle themselves in her hair. you’re unable to linger on that thought though as you feel natasha’s fingers tracing along your thigh where your dress has ridden up.

“you look so pretty like this, milaya… gasping for air while my wife gives you little love bites.” natasha muses, her hand now grabbing a fistful of the fat of your thigh. you squirm underneath their touch, fighting more earnestly to get your arms free.

wanda relinquishes her attack on your neck with a firm bite, pulling away to admire her work. several blotches of purple and red are smattered across the skin, not too far off from the color of your dress.

“stand up.” wanda demands as she pulls you to your feet. you falter to the side, feeling unbalanced as you were suddenly upright. she doesn’t give you time to adjust before she’s pulling your dress over your head. you try to match her haste, reaching for her own clothes as she undresses you. she catches your wrists again, pinning them to your sides.

“oh no. not now, pretty girl. let’s not deviate from what this is really about.” she’s quick with removing your undergarments. as you stand there naked before the two of them, wanda pauses for the first time since she’s attacked you. you can see ideas forming together in her eyes as she drinks in your naked body.

“mogu li ya prikosnut'sya k ney seychas?” natasha asks her wife.

wanda appraises you for another moment, a smile stretching across her lips as she runs a finger down your arm.

“ty mozhesh' sdelat' bol'she, chem eto.” she responds, moving past you to crawl up the bed. you glance behind you, unsure what was going on. your skin felt like it was on fire, the anticipation causing your arousal to now start to drip down onto your thighs.

“come here.” wanda curls her finger, directing you to come sit on her lap from her spot on the bed. you crawl up to her, beginning to straddle her lap, but she stops you.

“ah ah, the other way.” she places her hands on your hips, turning your body so your back was against her front. she spreads her legs, settling you in between them. the fabric of her pants rubs against your bare legs, causing you to shiver. if it weren’t for your fuzzy brain, you might feel embarrassed about your nakedness and the lack thereof from both wanda and natasha.

natasha makes her way up onto the bed, her body slithering up as she maneuvers so she’s laying on her stomach, her face just inches away from your now weeping core.

“spread your legs wider, baby… yeah.. just like that.” wanda praises as she guides your legs apart so your feet were hooked under the outer part of her spread ankles.

“fuck, if this isn’t my new favorite sight..” natasha’s eyes drink in the two of you, your exposed body unable to sit still as you begin to grind your hips into the air. she runs her hands up the outside of your thighs, sliding inward. her finger teases your slit, running down and gathering the wetness collecting at your hole.

you whine, your back arching off wanda’s front into natasha’s touch. they were used to this—your whining and whimpering. you never said much when they had you all needy like this. you were much too shy for your own good.

natasha kisses up your thigh, her tongue darting out to taste the skin where there was a crevice where your thigh and core met. she moans at the flavor. your hands twitch again, drifting along your torso till they rest atop of natasha’s head.

“hands at your side. or mommy’s gonna have to tie them behind your back. do you understand?” wanda chides, moving your hands away from natasha’s hair. you pant, nodding your head against her.

“say it.” she demands.

“yes, mommy,” you whimper pathetically, your hips wriggling in between her thighs. your eyes drift closed, your head lolling against wanda’s shoulder as you try not to combust from the slow build up.

just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, natasha’s tongue slips in between your folds, licking along your slit. you gasp at the feeling of her hot breath as she works her mouth against you. your hips grind into her, her hands coming up to try and still your movements.

she hums against your pussy, your moans filling the air as she eats you out like you’re the most delicious thing to walk the earth.

wanda’s hands run up and down your sides, eventually settling on your breasts as she gives them both a firm squeeze. her fingers circle your pretty nipples as natasha’s tongue circles your clit. when wanda pinches your nipples, natasha sucks your clit into her mouth, and when wanda twists your nipples, natasha gently nibbles at your bundle of nerves. they moved so in sync with one another, you’d think this was a practiced routine. they played your body like an instrument they’d been practicing on for years.

moans and whines spill from your lips, your body wriggling around as much as the two women would allow you to.

“does this feel good, baby? do you like daddy’s tongue licking your pretty pussy while mommy plays with your sensitive little nipples?” wanda murmurs in your ear. you whine, nodding your head against her again.

“use your words, (y/n). tell me.” she pinches your nipples, twisting them harshly when you hesitate.

“y-yes mommy!” you gasp out, feeling natasha fuck two fingers inside of you. the stretch felt wonderful, the slight sting only adding to the pleasure you were feeling.

“hmm, you know something, little girl? nobody is ever going to make you feel this good. just mommy and daddy. our girl. our sweet, precious little girl..” as wanda speaks, natasha’s tongue and fingers move more quickly, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. you moan louder, the sounds higher in pitch, indicating you were getting close to falling over the edge.

“you can’t cum, baby. not until i hear you say you’re ours..” wanda speaks the words slowly, emphasizing the last word by tweaking your nipples.

“mmfph.. yours.. ‘m yours..” you pant, your hips grinding earnestly against natasha’s face now.

“louder.” she commands.

you arch your back again, your body writhing between the sensations blooming across your whole body as they expertly play with you.

“eto slishkom mnogo? is it too much, detka?” wanda coos, her tone contrasting with the roughness of her touch.

“please! please!! ‘m gonna cum!” you squeak, your words meant to be a warning as you knew you couldn’t hold it much longer.

“don’t you fucking dare. say it.” she says darkly. between wanda’s words, natasha’s fingers curling perfectly against your g spot and her tongue lapping at your clit while wanda tortures your nipples, you were about to implode.

“yours!! i’m yours!! i’m all yours! yours and daddy’s! no one else can make me feel this good!” you half shout in desperation, the coil about to snap.

“that’s it… come on baby, cum for us.” she croons, her lips directly against your ear. your body shakes, all your muscles tightening at once before you fall over the edge. your hips roll against natasha’s face in time with the waves of your orgasm. neither of them stop their ministrations until your body finally goes limp and you slump back against wanda.

natasha places one last searing kiss to your sensitive clit, chuckling softly as she leans up on her arms, pecking you on your lips.

“take some deep breaths, baby. we’re not done just yet.” she speaks softly, your eyes open but unfocused as you look at her. she caresses the side of your face and you barely register wanda’s hands caressing up and down your arms.

you whimper, your eyes closing as your body feels spent. you hear both of them chuckle at your expense, their hands sliding all over your sensitive skin.

you were in for a long evening.

——————————

tag list: @poppyshuman @xenaizogie @ashadash0904 @kittnii @hayeeonn @gh0sstss @beggingonmykneesforher @natashalover3000 @msvenablesbitch @ihartnat @leesromanova @alwaysgoodnight @lowlifejuliett @azaleavolkova @caramelcat123-blog @daretodream1307-blog @ctrlaltedits @sweetmissnothing @gecko1 @karmasgxrl @marvelwomenarehot0 @elle161989 @waaayoutofline @snazzysprig @simpforlizzie @just4natasha @rosekjsses @moon3thereal @reginassecretlover @flyleaffreak @vanessashands @tigerlillyruiz @noturlondonboy @remuslupinschocolat3 @ssasa-romanoff @eccaterina1 @wandanatskitten @chiar4anna @womenarehotsstuff @luvforbills @tatesarchivee @mackenziemonday13 @reginassweetheart @sxlfishbrokenheart @wandanatbabybear @hapuchika @wandanatbabybear @jusst-an-user @here4agoodtimexlongtime @wandanat01 @milflovers4 @sevikasoneandonlywife @lizzieswife101 @m4ddie3 @vendra-reads

comment to be added :)