Summary: Wanda learns you've never had sex before so she decides she's the best to teach you how to lose your virginity. Set in the Twisted Lines universe
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: 18+, age gap, mommy kink, heavy Freudian themes, pseudo-incest, emotional regression, strap-on use (r receiving), dacryphilia, oral sex, alludes to a lactation kink, r's first time, r is quite innocent, not proofread this time
A/N: this was a request for a drabble on what wanda and r's first time would look like in Twisted Lines. kinda ended up being more than a drabble. i think this is kinda how it'll play out in the actual story? but with plot and more detail. happy birthday anon!! š thank you for your suggestions. didn't post the ask because of personal information in it
ā
Ever since you agreed to move in, Wanda had started touching you more.
It wasn't like when she'd hold your hand at the park bench or her fingertips pressing against your lips. You were used to that by now even though those actions still made warmth bloom in your chest.
Her touches had started going far past that into places you'd never allowed anyone to venture before.
When she tilted your chin up to kiss you, her other hand would drift beneath your shirt, her thumb rubbing circles into your hipbone. But then her fingertips would slide lower, going past the waistband of your pants and nudge the lining of your panties.
It's what she's doing now as you stand in her and Natasha's bedroom.
Clothes that she had you try on are scattered around you. She told you about how she always wanted to buy you clothes and shoes when you were at the foster care facility, but she didn't have the means to at the time.
Her palm caresses your cheek gently, preciously, while she murmurs in between kisses about how you're her perfect baby. That sacred, almost maternal affection is absent from where her other hand wiggles beneath the band of your panties. She swipes her tongue against your lower lip. The warm, wet sensation kindles a fire in your lower tummy.
You tremble against her, turning your face away as the tips of your ears burn with shame from how you're reacting. Your heart stutters at the fact that you've never done anything like this before.
Your friends had told you about how much it hurt when they lost their virginity. Their stories had always scared you, not to mention the sex ed you learned in school that you hardly listened to between everyone joking around in the class.
"Does being with mommy feel good, baby?" Wanda whispers in your ear, her hot breath making you shiver.
Her hand slips lower, her fingertips nearing the sticky, aching part of your body that you've been trying to ignore.
"I-I don't know," you stutter shyly, your cheeks beginning to burn with heat. "Iā¦ I've never done this before. I only ever heard stories from my friends a-and my parents never sat down to talk to me about this stuff soā¦"
You hear Wanda let out a frustrated huff. "Those parents never deserved you," she mutters under her breath. She turns your face back to her. The frustration on her face morphs into something else, like she's realized something.
"Pretty baby, don't worry, mommy will teach you everything." There's a happy glimmer in her eyes as she walks you back to the bed and has you lie down.
"But I don't thinkā" your mouth snaps shut when Wanda pulls your pants down. You cover your face with your hands when she stares hard at the dark patch on your panties.
"You don't think what, bunny?" she asks, the lilt in her voice almost teasing. "Isn't it normal for mommies to teach their little girls about this stuff?" She reaches a hand up, pulling yours down from your face to look at her.
"B-but I don't think moms do it like this," you respond shakily.
She pulls your panties down easily, sliding them off your ankles and tossing them to the side. You feel her warm breath against your throbbing pussy, her proximity making your walls clench around nothing.
Her eyes drift up, looking at you with dilated pupils, a smirk curving her lips.
"But you and mommy have a special connection, right? Mommy will make sure it doesn't hurt too bad."
Your eyes widen as she presses a kiss to your aching clit.
"Mommy will teach you how to lose your virginity," she says with a hum, her tongue swiping up and gathering your slick.
And she does. With painstaking, embarrassing detail that makes your cheeks burn and your hands want to lift to cover your face but Wanda holds them down so she can always see you.
She coaxes you by rubbing your hand when the ache in your lower tummy begins to build and your head begins to feel all floaty. She tells you that you're about to feel really good soon when you tell her you're scared of how it feels like you're reaching a peak and you can't see down.
"That just means mommy is teaching you well," she murmurs while pressing her tongue hard against your clit.
She soothes you by letting her tongue brush against you gently as your entire body trembles from the high. She groans against your sticky, sensitive pussy about how sweet you taste. The vibrations make you squirm against her.
"Sorry, baby," she says, her voice far too happy for an apology, leaning her head back, her cheeks flushed like she's drunk. A string of your slick connects her lips to your lower ones. "You just taste so sweet." But then she makes her way back up to you, her wet lips brushing against your ear.
"Mommy needed to warm you up so she can teach her little girl even more."
Then she leaves the bed with you laying there, your breaths ragged, your body limp.
Even more? you think to yourself slowly, your brain full of syrup. You tilt your head slowly when you hear Wanda exit the closet.
Her pale, milky skin is in full view, her clothes having been stripped off. A strap-on hangs around her waist, the sight too much for your innocent eyes, making you look away in embarrassment.
She spreads your legs apart, your body completely pliable beneath her.
"Mommy chose the smallest one since it's your first time," she says brightly, rubbing the strap between your soaking folds. The obscene, sticky sounds that come from it makes you bite your lip, trying to distract yourself from how embarrassingly wet you are.
You release it when you feel the tip prod at your entrance. You look up at Wanda with wide eyes.
"I-I don't think it'll fit."
"It will." The way she says it makes it sound like there's no other choice but for it to.
Her eyes dance as it slowly enters you. She pauses when your face scrunches up in pain when it feels like she's broken past something. She kisses both your eyelids when tears begin to fall, stroking your tummy while she coos at you to relax.
You sniffle quietly as the pain goes away. Wanda swipes her thumb against your last tear, licking it away as she looks down at you with blown out pupils at your watery eyes.
"That was the hard part, baby. But now mommy's inside of you. Look." She looks down at where you're connected, your gaze following hers. She's already fully inside of you. "Now mommy can teach you the fun part."
She slides out an inch before thrusting into you gently. When the tip knocks against something inside, a jolt of pleasure rushes through you. You let out a whiny gasp at the sensation, your hands coming up to cover your mouth at the sound you've never heard yourself make before.
Wanda's hands suddenly encompass yours, moving them to each side of your head and holding them down. Her breaths are coming out quicker, her eyes full of hunger and possessiveness that make you bite your lip at the intensity.
"No no, baby girl. Mommy wants to hear all the little sounds you make." She slides out until only the tip remains inside of you before thrusting into you roughly, forcing you to cry out at the overwhelming feeling.
She rams into you harder when little, desperate moans slip past your lips. She whispers in your ear about how you're doing so well. That you're her precious baby. The slick, sticky sounds echo in your ear through it all.
That feeling from earlier starts to build again, but it's more intense, deeper, like the way Wanda is fucking you right now. You don't think she can go any harder, any faster, until the name you've never said on your own without Wanda prompting you, slip past your lips.
"M-mommy," you whimper out. You feel her hips stutter for a moment, her eyes widening. The strap stirs inside of you making you whine. "Too much."
Her lips curve into a wide smile, her eyes bright with joy. Then she slams into you harder than she has before, making your body shift up while she releases one of your hands to pull your body back down, keeping you impaled on her.
"My poor baby just doesn't know any better," she coos between ragged breaths. "Mommy wasn't there to teach you. But she's here now. Mommy will tell you when it's too much."
She continues sinking into you at her brutal pace as you whimper out "mommy" between thrusts like it's the only word you know. Her breasts sway heavily in front of you, your eyes tracking them blearily through tears, your reason fading into nothing when the knot in your tummy snaps and your vision loses its focus. The last thing you remember is crying out for your mommy.
ā
You're laying on top of Wanda, tummy to tummy, your head resting between her breasts. Your head is all fuzzy, the thoughts slipping away before you can grasp them. You're just a sleepy puddle laying on top of Wanda as she strokes your hair gently.
"DaāNatasha isn't going to be happy to hear I was rough with her little princess," Wanda murmurs quietly to herself. She turns your head gently. Your lips graze against her nipple. "Suck, baby. Mommy wants to feel even closer to you."
Your lips wrap around it automatically, wanting to be her obedient baby. You suck gently while Wanda lets out a shaky breath.
"You should've gotten to do this when you were a baby. That wretched mother," she says, her voice tight. Her voice softens when she speaks next. "But now that we're reunited, mommy will give you everything. Even my milk," she hums.
You stop sucking for a moment. One thought slipping past the syrup in your head.
But she can't...
"Mommy can make anything happen. That's how much I love you." She pats your head softly, coaxing your lips around her nipple again. You suck gently again, your eyes closing on their own.
The idea of sweet, warm milk flowing through your mouth sends pleasant tingles through your body.
"Rest for a bit, bunny," she whispers soothingly. "We'll have to wash up in a bit, you're still so sticky down there. Andā¦" she drawls. "Sometime soon mommy will teach you more."
ā
A/N: idk if this is a little too messed up and maybe i should dial it back in the actual part of the story but we'll see
Little slip up leads to revelations. Revelations lead to conversations. Can your dominants pull you back before you drown completely? Can they fix what was broken?
Word Count: 10,5k
Warnings: MDNI/18+, not proof read (again), smut (bondage, edging, praise), sugar baby!r, dom/sub dynamics, a very needed discussion about said dynamics, sub drop, argument, hurt/comfort, spanking mention, age gap, financial struggles, idk what else
A/N: Wow, I did not expect for this story to get so much love! Genuinely thank you everyone<3 I do hope this chapter lives up to your expectations, cause I'm kinda proud of it hehe (but also its probably full of mistakes, but its 3am ill check it tomorrow)
Chapter 1
You werenāt sure when you managed to finally fall asleep, the pain keeping you up much longer than you wouldāve preferred, but you knew it mustāve been too late. The moment you woke up you immediately winced at the pounding in your head.Ā
The sun was barely up, barely shining through the curtains and you immediately reached for your phone that was resting on the nightstand.
6:24
Early. But not as early as you usually woke up. You rolled onto your back, which you immediately regretted, wincing as your butt touched the mattress.
Natasha really did a number on you.
You sat up slowly, your eyes barely open, but you knew you would not be able to get any more sleep. You took your old clothes and dressed yourself, not bothering to take out new clothes from your bag.Ā
It was the same clothes that Wanda took off of you on friday, carefully folding it and setting it on a dresser for you. You always brought back-up clothes with you, but right now you couldnāt bother to take them out, feeling way too dirty to put clean clothes on yourself.Ā
You couldnāt really tell why. Natasha cleaned you up briefly last night, but you still felt as if you hadnāt taken a shower in ages.
You could take a shower if you wanted to. Wanda and Natasha made sure that you knew that you could use their guest bathroom anytime you wanted but the thought of getting wet right now made you feel even more disgusting than normal.Ā
On top of that you did not feel like cleaning up the evidence of doing something around their house. You were sure they didnāt care, but always felt awkward when you had to use something belonging to someone else, always feeling strangely uneasy in spaces that were not your own. You were always told to be quiet, invisible, to not exist in places that did not belong to you, and if you had no choiceāmake it look as if you were never there.Ā
You quietly opened the door and peeked outside, the sight of the enormous hallway coming into view. All the doors still remained closed, keeping their secrets inside. You tiptoed towards the staircase and walked down carefully, not wanting to wake the couple up, your legs shaking slightly as you took each step.
You immediately turned towards the kitchen as you reached the lower floor, taking a single sticky note and a pen.
Woke up early so I went home. See you on friday.Ā
Polite enough.
You eyed the fridge, pondering whether you should take something. Both women said numerous times that you could always take anything you wanted, but your stomach turned at the thought. You usually stayed for breakfast now, but you didnāt feel like waiting for either of them to wake up. You wanted to go home, take a shower and go to bed. And no matter how familiar their house was, it wasnāt a home to you.
It was Wanda who proposed the idea of you staying over the whole weekend. It was more time efficient and it was easier to check up on you personally in the mornings as your scenes got more intense. And the promise of more money made the decision a lot easier for you.
They truly were responsible dominants, doing everything by the book. They knew that sub drop could occur even days later, and that aftercare didnāt end the second you fell asleep,Ā
They even started to check in on you more throughout the week as well, just to make sure that you were okay after each weekend. Especially Wanda herself knew that even if everything went okay, she still sometimes needed that special coddling days after any scene took place. She imagined that it must have been the same for you. And the thought of you being left alone to deal with those feelings by yourself sat heavy in her chest.
But despite spending more time with you, despite checking up on you more, they still made sure to hold their care within the agreed boundaries, to treat you more like a business partner or an acquaintance rather than anything else.Ā
You didnāt necessarily mind that much, there was simply too much going on in your life and the last thing you needed was a romantic mess in the form of a married couple.Ā
Despite spending more time with them and staying at their house, things still remained strangely the same. There was no making dinner together or watching movies in the living room.Ā
Your Saturdays were usually spent hiding away in their guest room. By the time they asked you about this adjustment in schedule, the school year was done, which meant you couldnāt use studying as an excuse, but both of them were always respectful and left you alone when you said you had some work to do, not bothering to ask any extra questions. Most Saturday mornings were spent having sex, though any special, time-consuming activities were always left for the evening, which left you with a whole day to fill with any activity to keep your restless mind occupied.Ā Ā
It felt awkward more often than not, to be at their house when you werenāt actively offering them any services, but they didnāt seem to mind much. It was their idea after all, so you tried not to think about it too much either. Natasha made a point of checking up on at least once throughout the day, but it was Wanda who would come up multiple times a day to see if you were okay and if you needed anything.Ā
You reached into your back pocket, taking out your phone to order an uber. You moved the meeting point towards the end of the street, further away from their house. The mornings were always quiet in this neighborhood, and you didnāt want to risk waking them up because of a loud car waiting in front of their house.Ā
You didnāt have to wait too long, the driver luckily close enough for you to immediately get going. Just as you were about to open the front door you heard a sound, something close to the door being opened and you stilled immediately, worried one of them had woken up. You waited for a few seconds, not even daring to breathe, but when no more sound occurred you moved again.Ā
You werenāt sure why you reacted this way, why you didnāt want to see either woman right now. These women have broken you down and put you back together more times than you could count, and yet, the thought of seeing them right now sent shivers down your spine. You felt like a dirty hook up, the kind that you have after drinking too much and then regret it in the morning while you shamefully sneak out and you didnāt need any witnesses for that.Ā
You stepped outside once you were completely sure no one was coming down and held your breath as you closed the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. The breath of relief you let out once you were finally outside was heavy and you immediately started walking towards your driver, desperately needing to get away.Ā
Thankfully, he was already there, waiting for you. You greeted the driver, your voice still hoarse from not using it and leaned your head against the window, closing your eyes. You hoped you wouldnāt fall asleep and end up dead in the middle of nowhere, but even if you did, it would be okay. You were apparently willing to let strangers do just about anything to you at this point, not caring whether you liked it or not.Ā
__________
The door to your apartment creaked open, the voice cutting through your head harshly. You switched the light on, only for the light bulb to give out 5 seconds later. You signed, but the usual annoyance didnāt follow, somehow the inconvenience of it simply passed through you as if you were a ghost.Ā
You tossed the bag from your shoulder into the corner, not bothering to unpack. You could take care of it later. You would have to go downstairs to the laundry room to get your clothes washed and that was not something you wanted to bother yourself with right now.Ā
You made your way towards the tiny bathroom, just wanting to shower and get to bed finally. The clothes were already halfway off of your body by the time you stepped inside. You stared at yourself in the mirror, barely recognizing the person that was staring back at you. There were massive bags under your eyes, your lips turned into a tiny frown. You looked drained, almost as if there was no life left in you anymore.Ā
You turned around and looked down, the mirror just low enough to allow you to see the damage. Dark red and purple lines covering the majority of your backside. You traced one of them, hissing as sharp pain shot through you. Your vision blurred suddenly, and you looked back up, finding a single tear running down your face.Ā
Why were you suddenly so sensitive?Ā
You glanced at the small collection of products that were lined up on the shelf next to the mirror, one of them a soothing gel that Wanda gave you after the first time they had spanked you.Ā
Use this whenever it hurts, yeah?Ā
You remembered that night clearly. Wanda was the one who brought out the paddle, not really to punish you, you hadnāt done anything that warranted a punishment. It was just simply something meant to spice things up a bit, which clearly worked because you came harder than ever before afterwards and you were barely coherent all throughout aftercare.Ā
Last night was different though. Wanda spent over an hour edging you, and in the haze of desperation, your hand unconsciously went between your thighs, needing to relieve the pressure. Neither of them were too happy about that, and Natasha decided that the appropriate punishment was a cane. And denial. They left you without a release, deciding that you were not deserving of pleasure, if you didnāt know how to keep your hands to yourself.Ā
Maybe that was what was wrong. You didnāt get to cum and now you were grumpy.
You turned towards the shower, turning the water on to let it heat up a bit, while you brushed your teeth. You didnāt dare look into the mirror anymore, your reflection scaring you more than it should. You werenāt sure how long you brushed your teeth for, the time passing without you noticing, and yet, when you finally stepped into the shower, the water was still cold.Ā
Somehow you didnāt flinch when the water touched your skin, your mind barely registering the sudden change in temperature. It wasnāt unusual for the warm water to not work, the building was old and your landlord was barely present, only reminding you of his existence once a month when he asked for rent.Ā
You didnāt spend too long in the shower, quickly washing your body and hair with the cheap products you could afford. This was probably what you hated the most about not having enough money. You would love to treat yourself to those expensive products that actually took care of your hair and made your skin feel soft for days. You hoped that maybe one day you would get there, that maybe one day you wouldnāt have to take the cheapest stuff the store could offer.Ā
Theoretically speaking, you would be able to afford that type of stuff even now with how much the married couple was paying you. But you wanted to be smart, saving up almost all of it, and with it being summer now you were at least not burdened with having to pay tuition either, allowing you to set aside even more money.Ā
Maybe you would be able to end the arrangement soon, the saved up money would probably be enough to carry you throughout the approaching final year of university, but you were scared of any unexpected expenses happening again. It almost ruined you once, and you desperately wanted to avoid it this time around.Ā
On top of that, you knew that you got lucky by finding Wanda and Natasha on that website, since it was mostly filled with people you didnāt even feel comfortable reaching out to. The chances of finding anyone else like them were next to zero and you wouldnāt be able to go back to them if things ended either. You needed them to survive, whether you liked it or not.Ā Ā
You wrapped yourself in a towel as you stepped out of the shower, your skin reddened from the cold, and went to the small dresser in your room, pulling out new clean pajamas. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but was instead greeted with a new message from Wanda.Ā
Hey. just checking in, everything okay? Why did you leave? You couldāve at least stayed for breakfast.Ā
Your fingers moved faster than your brain, giving her a rehearsed response.Ā
Yeah, everythingās good. Woke up super early and I had a lot to do, so I wanted to get a head start.Ā
Your phone buzzed before you could even put it down, Wandaās reply coming in swiftly.Ā
Oh, okay. You sure youāre feeling good?
100%, see you on friday.
Take care of yourself, okay? And if you need anything let us know.Ā
You didnāt bother replying after that, something about her words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. What could you possibly need from them, except for the obvious?Ā
You plugged your phone into the charger and placed it on the ground, the nightstand you once had long gone when you had to sell it during a harder month to afford some food. You buried yourself under the covers, not bothering to give it any more thought. Who needs a nightstand anyway?Ā
Your eyes fell shut the second your head touched the pillow, and you sighed in relief as you felt sleep take over you.Ā
The moment your eyes opened again it felt like they werenāt closed for even a full minute, but then you checked your phone, and you saw it was just past midnight. It was hard to believe you slept through the entire day, somehow feeling even more tired than before. You just rolled over, hoping to sleep some more before you would have to get up to handle another full week of working.Ā
By the time Thursday arrived you werenāt even sure how you still managed to stay upright. No amount of rest or food or showering managed to fix whatever was wrong as your body only ached more and your mind grew darker.Ā
But tomorrow was Friday, and with that another weekend with them. You only hoped they would take it easy on you this time around.Ā
__________
The door to Wandaās and Natashaās house opened less than a minute after you knocked, but the greeting got stuck in Natashaās throat when she saw you.
āAre you okay? You look-āĀ
You didnāt let her finish, immediately replying with the words you knew all too well. āIām fine.āĀ
She eyed you suspiciously, wanting to ask more but your clipped answer told her everything she needed to know. You werenāt gonna talk, and she didnāt want to push. She simply nodded as she let you step inside.Ā
āCome on, Wandaās making dinner.ā That was new. Not necessarily Wanda cooking, from what you gathered Wanda was a big cook, though she didnāt always have time for it, but it was definitely new for her to cook on Friday. Usually you would have a glass of wine together and then retreat upstairs.Ā
They usually had dinner together before you arrived every Friday, and they never really bothered to ask if you had eaten. It was not their responsibility after all.Ā
You followed Natasha to the kitchen after you dropped your bag, greeted by the sight of Wanda behind a stove, looking a bit disheveled.Ā
She only spared you a quick look before turning right back to stir something in a pan. āOh, hi! Hope youāre hungry. I made pasta and I always accidentally make enough to feed a whole village.āĀ
āPasta sounds nice.ā You replied, your voice cracking slightly, which made Wanda freeze. She turned around to look at you properly, but was quickly met with Natasha shaking her head, quietly letting her know to not question it.Ā
The dinner passed in a blur for you. Natasha complained about something at work, as she poured each of you a glass of wine. Wanda talked about a new recipe she wanted to try, while setting the table. It felt oddlyā¦domestic.
You didnāt finish the entire portion Wanda gave you, your stomach turning after each bite despite the food being absolutely delicious. You made a point to praise her cooking skills anyway. You were raised right.Ā
You only came back to reality when you heard the sound of the dishwasher being turned on, looking up to see Wanda leaning against the counter, staring back at you with a subtle smile.Ā
Natasha stood up wordlessly, and you stared at her in confusion, unsure whether you were supposed to go after her or not.
Why are they acting so strange?Ā Ā
Wanda just nodded her in the direction of the hallway, as she finally moved away from the counter, silently letting you know to follow her.Ā Ā
You stood up abruptly, convinced that now you would finally go upstairs, but both women led you to the living room instead.Ā
Were you about to have sex on the couch?Ā
Neither of them said anything as Natasha reached for the TV remote, while Wanda grabbed a book from the table, both settling down on the couch as if this was completely normal. You guessed it was, but not when you were here. Did they forget what day it was?Ā
You sat down slowly, finding a place on the far end of the couch. You watched Natasha turn the TV on and toss the remote aside, while Wanda opened her book to the last page she had read.Ā
The silence was killing you, and your eyes kept darting nervously between the two women.Ā
What the fuck is going on?Ā
10 minutes in and you couldnāt take it anymore, your leg bouncing uncontrollably as you waited for them to finally take you upstairs, or at least say something that would clarify this entire situation to you.Ā
āDid Iā¦do something?ā You blurted out suddenly, your nerves getting the best of you.Ā
āWhat do you mean?ā Asked Wanda, not bothering to raise her head from the book.Ā
You blushed, not sure how to word it. āYouāre not-, weāre notā¦ā
Wanda just shook her head as she finally looked at you, her eyes softer than you had ever seen before. āNo, youāre tired.āĀ
Panic spread through your body, and you shook your head as you stumbled over your words. āNo! Uh, I meanā¦no, Iām fine.āĀ
Wanda wasnāt going to butch though, and she just gently shook her head in a firm disagreement. āWe can see youāre not. And thatās okay. We donāt need to do anything.āĀ
āI swear, Iām okay! We can go upstairs.ā You sat up straighter, trying to appear like youāre completely okay and ready. You had to do this.Ā
āNo. How about we just relax tonight, hm?ā She said gently as she turned back to her book.Ā
āNo, really-āĀ
āNot tonight.ā Stated Natasha, as she sent you a sharp look before turning back to the TV, her tone clearly meant to end the debate.
āPlease.ā You whispered, but it was the desperation that finally made Natasha turn her head to look at you properly.Ā
You looked down in your lap as you took in a shaky breath, your words coming out quieter than you intended. āI need toā¦I-, I need the moneyā¦āĀ
āWhat?ā Natasha mumbled as stared at your anxious form. Both women werenāt sure what to say, staring at you wordlessly. Wanda was the first one to recover though, choosing her next words carefully as she sat up straighter, putting her book away. āDo youā¦ do you only do this because you need money?āĀ
You shrugged as you murmured. āDoesnāt everybody work because they need money?āĀ
Her eyes sharpened at that. āThatās not what I asked.āĀ
āI-, well, yes. I need money. So can we please just go upstairs and get it over with?ā You said as you played with your fingers anxiously, your thumb pulling at the dead skin around your fingernails.Ā Ā
Wanda stared at you in disbelief. āNo, we cannot just āget it over withā. If youāre not feeling up to something, then you need to tell us.āĀ
"It doesnāt matter whether I feel up to it. You're paying me for a service, it is my job to provide it. Lots of people don't like their jobs, but they do them because they need the money. Itās not a big deal!" You shot back, your voice rising with panic. You watched Wanda stand up, suddenly feeling a lot smaller. Your eyes snapped to Natasha briefly, stressed that she hadnāt said anything so far, though you didnāt miss the way her jaw was clenched.Ā Ā
Wanda crossed her arms across her chest, as she snapped back. āIt is a big deal! This isnāt a regular job, this is not how we do this. Yes, we are paying you for being our submissive, but we cannot do something unless youāre absolutely sure you want it.āĀ
āBut I do want it!āĀ
āYeah, because of money!ā Said Wanda as her voice raised a pitch. She wasnāt normally the one to yell, but she genuinely didnāt know how to get her point across. What you were saying was absolute nonsense to her, and she couldnāt even believe you were having this conversation.Ā Ā
Natasha leaned forward suddenly, resting her always against her knees as one hand shot up to rub her eyes. She let out a heavy sigh, but her tone was terrifyingly cold as she finally spoke. āYouāre not a cook or a cleaner. Weāre sleeping together. The second we do something you donāt want, it stops being sex and turns into an assault, and that is not fair to us either.āĀ
āBut I said yes.ā You replied, your voice a lot less confident than it was a minute ago.Ā
āSo what? This entire time youāve been saying yes because of money?āĀ
āWell, yeah? I have a lot to pay for! Would you keep me around if I said no?!ā You snapped back defensively.Ā
Natasha stood up then, not able to stay still, her eyes full of anger as she looked at you. āWe would discuss, renegotiate, find a common ground! Itās fucked up of you to put us in this position! As dominants we rely on you to be honest, we rely on your consent, you lying to us destroys that, it turns us into abusers when we thought this whole time you wanted it too!ā
āBut I did consent!ā
āBecause of money! That changes the dynamic entirely! Do you not understand that? That is a huge power imbalance! Something we were not aware of and something that needs a different approach! And a hell of a lot more communication!ā She shot back, her voice raising by each sentence.Ā
āBut youāve been paying me this whole time! You knew I needed the money!ā You tried to defend, only for Natasha to immediately jump in. āYou said you āwantedā money! We did not know we were supporting your livelihood! That you were that dependent on us! That makes this entire situation a lot more fragile! Entirely jeopardizes your consent! Do you get that?!āĀ
āNatā¦āĀ
āNo, Iām angry Wanda! This isnāt fair to us! We did not consent to this!ā
āOkay, letās justā¦take a step back, okay?ā Said Wanda as she raised her arms, trying to defuse the situation, only for Natasha to scoff and sit down on a separate sofa to your right.Ā
Wanda seemed to pay her no mind as she sat down next to you, her hand reaching out to gently touch your knee. āWhat is this really about? Have you really been saying yes this entire time even though you didnāt like anything we were doing?ā
āNo, I mean, I did like most of it, just notā¦everything?ā You said quickly as you gave her a sheepish look. āBut why does that matter anyway? Youāre the one in charge. Even if you didnāt pay me, aren't I supposed to do what you say anyway?ā
Wanda sighed, giving you a sad look. āHoneyā¦no. Thatās not how this is supposed to workā¦ā
āBut you gave me a list?ā You murmured, your voice insecure. Now they were going to find out you had no idea about any of this, they were going to throw you out.Ā
Wanda furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, quickly looking at Natasha to make sure she heard right. āWhat list?āĀ
āThe one with the things you likeā¦ā You whispered shamefully.Ā
Wanda shook her head as she squeezed your knee. āBut that wasnāt us telling you what you had to do. That was us clarifying what we like and what we donāt. We canāt do something unless everyone wants it. Why else would we give you your own list to fill?āĀ
āI donāt know?! To make sure we match?āĀ
āJesusā¦ā Muttered Natasha, shaking her head in disbelief.
āNatā¦ā
āNo, we gave you that list to make sure we donāt cross your boundaries. So that what we do in the bedroom is enjoyed by every party involved.ā Replied Wanda softly, thinking back on the time you had spent together, hoping to find a moment when you might have needed to stop but didnāt, only for her to remember the last time you were together.Ā
āLast Sunday, when we used the caneā¦ā She started gently. āYou cried afterwards. Was that just because it was a lot or because you needed to stop and we didnāt?āĀ
āI-, uhhā¦ā You looked up, giving them both a sheepish look.Ā
āGuess that answers itā¦ā Scoffed Natasha.Ā
You looked away guiltily, only sparing Natasha one quick look, but that was more than enough for her to put the pieces together.Ā Ā
It hit her then, when she really looked at you, when she saw that look in your eyes. The exhaustion, the shame, the pain. She knew that look. She had seen it in Wandaās eyes that one time when they were still only trying to figure out what they liked and what they didnāt. She remembered the dread that filled her when she realized she had no idea what to do, and she promised herself she would never again be that unprepared.Ā
Sub drop. You werenāt just tired, you didnāt just have a headache. You were deep in sub drop and probably had been since Sunday. Without any one of you realizing it.Ā
āWhy didnāt you use your safeword?ā Said Natasha as her frustration kept increasing, though it was beginning to take on an entirely different edge.Ā
āBecause I didnāt need to.ā You shrugged, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. What kind of a stupid question was that?
Ā āYou obviously did.ā Natasha immediately shot back, only for you to shrug. āI wasnāt in dangerā¦ā
That made Natasha roll her eyes, not believing what she was hearing. āIs that what you think safeword is for?āĀ
āIsnāt it?āĀ
āNo, you use it anytime something is wrong.ā Wanda clarified, her voice a lot calmer than her wifeās, but you only gave a look full of confusion. āBut nothing was wrong.āĀ
āYou not enjoying it is wrong! That means you use your safewords! You didnāt and now youāre going through a sub dropā¦ā Muttered Natasha, her voice full of annoyance.Ā
Wandaās eyes flashed with recognition. How did she not see this sooner?
āI-, what?ā You stared at her, completely puzzled. What the fuck was she talking about?
āSub drop? Do you not know what that is?ā Asked Wanda only for you to shake your head no.Ā
āDo you actually have any experience with this? Or was that a lie too?ā Natasha snapped, not being able to hold her emotions back, despite how sorry she felt for you.Ā Ā
āI-, I just really needed the moneyā¦ā You whispered as you lowered your head in shame.
āFucking hellā¦ā She shook her head in disbelief.Ā
āOkay, okay. Letās all just calm down, yeah? This has been a lot for all of us.ā Said Wanda, sensing the conversation was beginning to heat up again.Ā
āIā¦I really donāt mind going upstairs.ā You murmured after a few minutes of silence, but Natasha quickly snapped back, her tone harsher than she intended. āNo, thereās no way weāre going upstairs. Not after this.āĀ
You flinched at the tone, taking in a shallow breath, while the tears that had been threatening to spill since this conversation started finally running free. āLook, Iām sorry, I-āĀ
āHey, noā¦ā Started Natasha as she stood up and inched closer, crouching in front of you and placing her hand on your other knee.Ā Ā
āWe-, weāre not angry with you. I mean. I kind of am, but you need to understand that you held up a lot of information from us. The kind of information that have a huge impact on how this whole dynamic works. You need to understand that itās incredibly upsetting to find out that weāve been unknowingly hurting you this entire time when we thought this was something we all enjoyed. Not just me and Wanda.āĀ
āBut I really did enjoy a lot of what we did.ā You tried, your voice weak as you desperately tried to dry your tears.Ā
āBut did you initially want to do everything we suggested? Or were you only agreeing to everything because you thought we wouldnāt pay you? Or because you thought that as a submissive you were supposed to say yes to everything?ā Asked Wanda, needing you to see their side of things.Ā Ā
āBut I did say yes, didnāt I? So why does it matter?ā You shrugged indifferently.Ā
āA yes isnāt a full yes if you donāt understand what it is that youāre agreeing to, why youāre agreeing to it or if there are other things influencing your decision.ā Said Natasha, her voice finally a bit softer.Ā
You didnāt dare respond anymore, letting the words and their meaning truly wash through you. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes, willing the tears to finally stop.Ā Ā
āHow about we just let it go for tonight, hm? We can talk about it more later when we all feel a bit calmer, yeah?ā Said Wanda after a moment.Ā
She knew you needed to talk a lot more, to really get to the bottom of this, but right now there was a lot bigger issue to deal with. You were in full sub drop for the past few days, you were drowning and they needed to help you. They needed to fix this.Ā
āTalk to us. How do you feel?ā She murmured as she squeezed your knee gently. You gave her a small shrug, unsure how to explain what was happening in your body.Ā āI donāt knowā¦tired? Achy?ā
āDid you sleep enough since Sunday?"Ā
āI slept a lot actually, but every time I woke up I just felt more exhausted.ā She nodded, trying to think of how they could help you, only to realize how difficult that was when you barely knew someone.Ā
āIs there anything we can do to make you feel better?ā She asked you, feeling lost, but trying her best to hide it. If only she knew you were just as lost. āIā¦I donāt really know?ā
āOkayā¦ā She nodded. āDid you bring any spare clothes?āĀ
āYeah, theyāre in my bag.ā You said as you pointed to the bag you left by the front door when you got to their house.Ā
āOkay. What do you say we go upstairs, get changed while Nat gets us some snacks and we just spend the evening watching tv and relaxing? Does that sound good?ā She asked, not sure what else she could do for you, but you still looked up and gave her a small nod accompanied with a soft smile. āYeahā¦yeah, that sounds nice.āĀ
āPerfect. Letās go.ā Said Wanda, sounding much cheerier. She held out her hand to you as she stood up, which you took immediately.Ā
__________
Wanda pushed the door to the guest room open, letting you step in first while she carried your bag. She set it on the bed, gently stopping you when you tried to reach for it. āLet me help, yeah?āĀ
You nodded, not feeling like denying her that request when she spoke to you like that. She reached in and pulled out a shirt along with a pair of shorts, holding them up for you to see. āThese ones?ā
āYeah.ā You nodded as you tried to take them again, only for her to pull her hand back. āI said I would help.ā She teased as she stood in front of you.Ā
She tossed the clothes on the bed next to you, grabbing the hem of your shirt but making no move to pull it up. āArms up, honey.āĀ
You did as she asked, and she swiftly took the shirt off, unclasping your bra next. You fought the urge to hide, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than ever before. They had undressed you dozens of times before, but it had never felt this exposing.Ā
It was almost as if Wanda could sense the uneasiness, quickly taking the new shirt and pulling it over your head. She knelt then, leaving you speechless and your knees weak. You were always the one on your knees, never the other way around. Her fingers drifted to the button on your shorts, undoing it and gently pulling the short off, but you still let out a painful hiss as the fabric brushed over your butt.Ā
āWhat is it?ā Wanda asked immediately as she freezed, looking up at you with worried eyes.
āNothingā¦ā You quipped, but Wanda was already craning her neck to see what was wrong. She gasped, only seeing a fraction of the dark red lines that still hadnāt disappeared, but it was more than enough for her.Ā
āGod, did you use the lotion I gave you?ā Asked Wanda as pulled the shorts all the way down, eyeing the angry lines across your backside, not able to look away.Ā
āI-, uh, noā¦ā You murmured, shame washing over you.Ā
āHoneyā¦ā She sighed, her tone more sad than disapproving, but it still curled tightly in your chest. āGive me a second.ā She mumbled as she stood up, leaving the room abruptly. You stood there awkwardly, your sleep shirt falling just above your hips, leaving you in nothing but panties from the waist down.Ā
She didnāt take too long to come back thankfully, stepping back in with a tub of cream in her hand and sitting down on the bed.Ā
āCome on, over my lap.ā She murmured as she beckoned you over, though you made no move to follow, standing glued in place as blush spread over your cheeks.Ā
Wanda smiled cheekily as she teased you. āOh, donāt get shy on me now. Itās not like we havenāt done this before.āĀ
āI know, I know. Itās just different.ā You muttered, moving an inch closer, but it was enough for her to grasp your hand and pull you in.
She gently manoeuvred you over her lap, the action familiar for both of you. āI know, I get it.ā
You settled down easily, folding your hands in front of yourself to rest your head.Ā
āLookā¦ā Started Wanda as she unscrewed the cap, squeezing a bit of the cream onto her palm. āThe truth is, me and Natasha had never done this before, have someone else be a part of our sex life.āĀ Ā
You flinched slightly as her palm touched your skin, the coldness catching you off guard. āSorryā¦ā She mumbled as she pulled her hand back slightly, letting you adjust.Ā
āWhen we first started to get into this sort of lifestyle, we'd already been dating for a few years at that point. We explored and figured out what we liked together. Neither of us had a single reason to lie about what we enjoyed and what was an absolute no, because weāve always loved and trusted each other, but I guess we failed to realize it wouldnāt be like that with everyone.ā Her voice was heavy as she spoke, and you didnāt dare interrupt her, somehow knowing that she needed to let it out as much as you needed to hear it.Ā
āAnd I guess we didnāt really realize that a dynamic involving money could have its own obstacles. And that it could attract people for more serious reasons than just easy extra money or sex.āĀ
āWe shouldāve pressed, asked more, checked in more often. Iām sorry that we didnāt. But it wasnāt because we didnāt care, it just genuinely didnāt occur to us that you would feel the need to lie, because weāve never felt the need to do that with one another.āĀ
Silence settled in the room for a bit, while she worked the cream into each irritated line, making sure not to miss anything.Ā
She spoke again, quieter than before, vulnerability seeping into her words. āAnd Iām sorry we were so distant and if that impacted you negatively too.āĀ
āHonestly, we werenāt that thrilled about bringing an extra person into our sex life but we both really wanted someone to help us balance out what we wanted in the bedroom.ā Her hand moved gently, working the last bits of the cream into your skin, tapping your hip once she finished, letting you know to stand up.
You looked down at her but she didnāt dare meet your eyes yet, instead reaching for the sleep shorts, holding them up for you. Your hands immediately went up to her shoulders for support, stepping into them carefully. āAt the same time, we were both scared it would mess with our marriage and I guess that made us keep more distance from you than necessary. I guess that was also why we never asked more or checked in with you more. Asking means caring, and the second you start to care it complicates things. We wanted to avoid that.ā She sighed, her hands resting on your hips as she pulled the shorts up.Ā
āWe justā¦wanted to protect our marriage, you know?ā She muttered, squeezing your hips. You could hear a subtle sorrow slipping through her words.
She stood up then, moving her hands up your body until she was softly holding your jaw to make you look at her, her voice more serious than you had ever heard before. āWeāll do better from now on, but we need you to meet us halfway, yeah? This dynamic cannot work if thereās no trust, and trust doesnāt mean you not saying no because you think it will have negative consequences, okay?ā
You nodded, your movements slightly limited, her hands holding you gently in place. āOkayā¦āĀ
She smiled at that, her eyes lighting up a bit. āGood.ā Her hands finally let go, only to grab your hand and gently tag you along. āLetās go downstairs. Natashaās probably wondering whatās taking us so long.ā
Natasha was still sitting on the sofa, deep in thought as she stared at the TV, though she immediately stood up as she saw the two of you appear.Ā
āIām gonna go change, you guys pick something.ā She murmured as she passed you, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Wandaās cheek. You werenāt sure if she was still angry or not, but she did look significantly calmer.Ā
Wanda led you towards the massive couch, not even giving you a chance to tuck yourself into the corner as she pulled you to sit next to her.
You watched her reach for the remote, picking through different options.
āLay down.ā She murmured as she patted her lap but you only stared at her, puzzled by the suggestion.Ā
āCome on, I know youāre tired.ā She patted again, a bit firmer as she smiled teasingly.
You still hesitated for a second, but the quick look she shot you was enough for you to listen. It wasnāt quite the same warning one she would give you in the bedroom but eerily similar.Ā
You inched closer, laying your head down in her lap, her free hand immediately moving up to play with your hair. You felt your body relax, your muscles finally letting go as you settled down.Ā
It all felt too weird. The pet names, the casual touches, the idea of just simply sharing the same space without doing anything. Neither of them had ever done that. Theyād never even kissed you. All in hopes of preserving their marriage. But maybe this was what Wanda meant. Maybe this was their way of doing better.
Wanda silently clicked through the different options, trying to find an appropriate movie. You barely paid attention, not even sure how much time had passed by the time Natasha returned and settled on Wandaās other side.Ā
Wanda quickly pressed play, after checking if you liked what she picked, to which you just gave her a mindless nod, fully aware you were not going to pay attention anyway. Her hand never stopped stroking your hair, every now and then stopping to gently scratch at the nape of your neck.
Only after the second movie was finished did they finally take you upstairs, this time for an entirely different reason than all the other times before. And you couldnāt help but let out a breath of relief, knowing that tonight you wouldnāt have to pretend to be okay. You could simply just be.Ā
Saturday was spent pretty much the same, only chilling around the house, watching TV and occasionally eating something. By the time you went to bed that night, your mind and heart felt lighter than in the past 3 years.
But as you left their house on Sunday morning and another payment arrived to your account, anxiety seized you suddenly. You couldnāt help but wonderāwould you come back again?Ā
__________
That anxiety didnāt disappear throughout the week, if anything it only increased as time went by, and then reached its peak when Natasha texted you on a Wednesday morning.Ā
Could you come over tonight? Same time as always.Ā
You had never met up during the week, the sudden change making you panic. You were sure this was going to be it. They were going to fire you. Get rid of you just like you expected.Ā
You replied with an agreement despite the anxiety because truly, there was no point in trying to run from it. You could find another job, or take on extra shifts, maybe even find another couple. You would make it work even without them.Ā
Or at least that was what you thought at first. You werenāt so sure of that by the time you knocked on their door in the evening.Ā
Maybe they just wanted to make up for the weekend and have sex tonight? That seemed quite unlikely for them though, but still, you were willing to do anything to hold onto this job.Ā
Wanda was the one to open the door this time, your voice catching in your throat as you saw her. āHiā¦āĀ
āHey, come on, come inside.ā She gave you a wide smile as she saw you, opening the door wider to usher you in.Ā
She led you to the kitchen first, just like always, and there you were greeted with Natasha sitting by the table. The moment eerily reminded you of your first time at their house, the anxiety you had felt, the way your hand had shaken the entire time. Even Natasha carried the same look in her eyes as she had back thenāserious and professional.Ā
āWe need to talk.ā She spoke as you sat down, her tone warmer than you expected, but it still made panic rise in your chest, your heart suddenly beating faster as your limbs went cold.Ā
Still, you just swallowed and held your head high, ready to take whatever she was about to throw at you. āIf youāre about to fire me, then you can just say so and I can leave. We donāt need to have a whole discussion about it.āĀ
āWeāre not firing you.ā She replied simply, and you felt your heart skip a beat. āYouāreā¦not?ā
āNo, weāre not. Besides, we wouldnāt fire you just like that. Weāre aware weāre paying you a lot of money, though we werenāt aware you were that dependent on it. Regardless, we wouldn't just cut you off like that.ā Wanda said as she sat down, looking at you softly.Ā
āSo what? You would give me a 2-weeks notice?ā You chuckled, nervously playing with your fingers.Ā Ā
āBasically.ā Natasha nodded curtly.Ā
Your eyes darted nervously across the table, only now noticing the stack of papers. Natasha reached for the one on the top and tore it down the middle, the action so quick you couldnāt even tell what was on it. Then she reached for another one, placing it in front of you along with a pen. āLetās do this again. Truthfully this time. Hard limits, something we donāt do no matter what. Soft limits, something youāre curious to try, only if you feel like it. And lastly, what you do like.āĀ
You stared at her, completely shocked, expecting everything except for this. Natasha reached for another paper, putting that one in front of herself and Wanda. āFirst we go through the things we have tried already.āĀ
She looked up then, after getting no response from you, her eyes momentarily darting towards the pen, silently telling you to pick it up and start writing. You picked it up swiftly, waiting for her to start.Ā Ā
āBondage?ā She started, her voice serious, resorting back to her business-like persona. You truly wondered how she could talk about these things as if she was discussing a weekly grocery list.Ā
āI like that.ā You replied as you looked away shyly.Ā
āDo you like to be tied up with everything?ā Wanda asked, but you only tilted your head in confusion, though she was quick to clarify.Ā āLike rope, cuffsā¦āĀ Ā
āOh, yeah, I liked it all.ā You murmured, blush spreading through your cheeks as you remembered all the times they had tied you up in the past, but Natasha seemed to pay no mind to your reactions as she moved on.Ā
āSpanking?ā She looked up, waiting for your response, which came quickly. āI like that too.āĀ
āBe more specific.ā Wanda reminded you, her eyes stern when you glanced at her. You couldnāt believe they were making you talk about everything so specifically, but you couldnāt really blame them.Ā Ā
āI- uhh, I like it with a hand, and a paddle and a belt.ā You stuttered a bit as you tried to give them a more concrete answer.Ā Ā
āThe rest goes under hard limits.ā Natasha ordered, but the firmness of her words made you panic. You were willing to compromise.Ā
āWait-ā You tried, but Natasha quickly interrupted you. āNo.āĀ
āBut-āĀ
āWas that something you enjoyed?ā Wanda asked, her voice a lot softer than Natashaās. You kept opening your mouth only to close it again, your instincts fighting against the truth. You sighed in the end and murmured. āWellā¦noā¦ā
āIs that something youāre willing to try again?ā Natasha asked as she raised her eyebrows, wondering whether you were going to respond truthfully.Ā
You desperately wanted to say yes, but something deep inside didnāt let you, knowing that now was not the time to lie. āI-, I donāt think soā¦ā
āWrite the rest under hard limits.ā Said Natasha, her tone carrying a hint of finality, which you didnāt dare to fight, doing as she said.Ā
āAnal?ā Natasha asked next. You gave it a bit of thought before answering. āI liked the plugā¦but when you used the strap that wasā¦I donāt knowā¦a bit weird.āĀ
āWeird how?ā She asked, not to coax you into changing your answer, but to make sure that no line was never crossed again, that you were never hurt again.Ā Ā Ā
You only shrugged, not knowing how to answer. āI donāt know, just weird.āĀ Ā
āIs that something you would like to try again?ā Asked Natasha, looking at you curiously. You pondered for a moment, giving them a small nod. āI think so...āĀ
āDo you want to put it under a soft limit?ā Wanda asked, giving you a bit of direction, but still letting you make your own decision. āYeah.ā
āBlindfold?ā You heard Natasha ask, but your mind immediately went to that one time they decided to blindfold you, remembering the panic that seized you back then and you shook your head immediately. āI didnāt like that.ā You murmured. āIt was scary.āĀ
You went on like that for almost an hour, going through all the things you had and hadnāt tried, both women making sure that everything is properly discussed and agreed on. You relaxed as the conversation went on, finding it easier to answer honestly as time went by.Ā
Neither woman was really surprised to see your āI like itā list shrinking while your āhard limitsā list doubled in size, finally feeling like the list belonged to a person and not to a robot.Ā
You moved on to safewords then, both women taking their time to explain everything thoroughly. But Natasha still wanted to make sure you had understood everything perfectly.Ā
āSafewords. Tell me what they mean.ā She ordered, staring at you intensely, but you were quick to reply. āRed, stop. Yellow, slow down or take a break. Green, keep going.āĀ
āGood.ā She nodded before continuing. āIf youāre tied up, and your arms start hurting, you lose feeling in them or you simply donāt like it anymore, what do you say?āĀ
āRed or yellow.ā You answered immediately.Ā
āIf weāre spanking you, and it hurts in a bad way or you feel like youāve had enough, what do you say?āĀ
āRed or yellow.āĀ
āIf you get scared, anxious, tired and want to go to bed, you need to go to the bathroom, what do you say?āĀ
āRed or yellow.āĀ
She stopped for a moment, nodding in approval but the tension in her body was evident. She really needed you to understand this, to know how to use these words properly.Ā
āWhen do you say green?ā She asked as she looked straight into your eyes, intensity written all over. You let out a heavy breath as you answered. āWhen Iām enjoying myself, I like whatās happening and I want to keep going.āĀ
You went through a few more things, spending about another half an hour on all of it to make sure everyone was on the same page. Only then Natasha finally pulled out the last page, the one that would carry all of your signatures. It was then that you realized both the pen and your heart felt lighter than the first time you did this, finally not feeling like you were going against yourself.Ā
You looked up at them once you put the pen down, finding them staring at you with soft eyes which gave you enough courage to speak up. āAre weā¦are we gonna go upstairs?āĀ
āIs that something you want?ā Wanda tilted her head, surprise flicking through her face.Ā
You pondered for a moment, giving them a shy nod. āYeahā¦āĀ
āAre you absolutely sure?ā She asked again, looking at you expectantly.Ā
You didnāt respond immediately, Wandaās words from last weekend flashing through your head.
We need you to meet us halfway, yeah?
āIām sure. I promise.ā You said, giving them a shy smile, and for the first time you actually felt excitement spark within you at what was to come.Ā
__________
Your eyes darted nervously across the room. You werenāt sure why they decided to bring you into the guest room instead of their playroom, finding the sudden change a bit nerve racking. Wanda quickly interrupted your stream of thoughts as she spoke, breaking the silence in the room.Ā
āIs there anything you want us to do?ā Wanda asked as she stroked your cheek, looking at your naked form laying on the bed.Ā
āI think I want to be tied up.ā You murmured timidly, but Natasha quickly fixed you with a stern look as she turned around. āYou think?āĀ
You gulped, hoping to appear more confident as you spoke again. āI know.āĀ
āAre you sure? We donāt have to, honey.ā Wanda asked, her eyes shining with unspoken concern.Ā
āIām sure, totally. I want it. I told you, I like it.ā You rambled, desperately needing them to speed it up a bit. Natasha chuckled when she heard you, knowing just what kind of night you were in for.Ā
She left the room suddenly, probably to get the cuffs from the playroom, you supposed they didnāt keep that stuff around here. You were proven right when she walked in, holding a pair of cuffs in one hand and a vibrator in the other. She handed the cuffs to Wanda, who made a quick job of fastening them around your wrists and securing them against the headboard.Ā
She turned around then, sitting down on a cushioned chair in a corner, the view allowing her to see everything perfectly. She laughed gently when she saw your confused expression. āItās just you and Nat tonight, honey. She has a lesson to teach you.āĀ
You wanted to respond, to ask what she meant, but the sound of the vibe coming to life immediately made you turn your head towards Natasha, who sat patiently between your legs.Ā
You thought she would tease you, try to make you work for it, but you were wrong. Not even 5 seconds later that vibe was pressed against your core, clearly set on the highest setting and you let out a small scream as you squirmed, the sudden wave of pleasure catching you off guard. She was clearly trying to work you up quickly, which was never a good sign when it came to Natasha.Ā
You settled into the pleasure after a minute, your hips beginning rocking against it. She circled the vibe occasionally, just to slightly torture you, but she held it in place for the most part, letting you set the pace.Ā
You werenāt sure what her plan was, but you guessed it was probably working, because less than 5 minutes later you felt yourself rapidly approaching the peak. Natasha could tell too, as your moans grew higher and your movements got more erratic.Ā
She spoke suddenly, her voice a bit hoarse from being quiet for a while. āWhen do you use yellow?āĀ Ā
āWha-ā You stuttered, your words disappearing as a moan ripped through you. You were almost there, just a little longerā¦Ā
āWait, no!ā You whimpered as she pulled the vibe away, your thighs trying to close but she held them open. Your breaths came out heavy, and you stared at her in disbelief, but she stared at you fully composed as she spoke again.Ā
āI can do this all night. When do you use yellow?āĀ
You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to think while your brain slowed down from the need. āWhen-, when I need a breakā¦āĀ
āAndā¦?ā She coaxed, holding the vibe just above your clit. You tried moving your hips, but she just pulled the vibe further away, waiting for you to respond.Ā Ā
You tilted your head back, desperate whine leaving your lips. āAnd when I need something to change.āĀ
āGood girl.ā She cooed as she pressed the vibe back to your clit, working you up again. It didnāt take too long, your hips desperately chasing after that high you almost had before Natasha roughly took it away.Ā Ā
āWhen do you use red?ā She asked when she knew you were getting close again, a cruel smile adoring her lips, which you didnāt see with your eyes squeezed shut.Ā Ā
āWhen-, fuck, when I need to stop!ā You answered quickly, focusing more on rocking your hips against the toy, but Natasha was going to make sure she would have your full attention.Ā
āWhatās a reason to stop?āĀ
Is she actually turning this into a lecture?
āI-, I donāt know?! When Iām in pain?!ā You tried, but apparently that wasnāt good enough for her as she pulled away again. You whimpered, trying to hold back as much as you could just so you wouldnāt end up with a ruined orgasm. You knew too well how painful those could be.Ā
āTry again.ā She ordered, but gave you a minute to recover, waiting patiently, while you tried to catch your breath. You looked at her desperately, barely able to find words so she decided to help you out. āIf youāre in pain, if somethingās wrong, or if you just simply donāt want to keep going anymore.āĀ
āMhmā¦ā You nodded frantically, barely paying her any mind.Ā
āRepeat it.ā She muttered sternly, pressing the vibe against you only to pull it away a second later, the action resulting in a tiny whimper.Ā Ā
āIf Iām in pain, somethingās wrong or just wanna stop.ā You repeated quickly, barely not stumbling over your words.Ā
āGood girl.ā She murmured, the vibe finally returning to your clit and you let out a high pitched whine. She circled it slowly, pressing harder just until moans were slipping past your lips.Ā
āWhat do we never suggest? Whatās entirely off the table?ā She asked and you groaned, wondering just how much longer you would have to endure this. Your hips moved relentlessly, while your arms pulled at the cuffs, wanting to just snatch the vibe from her arms and finally get the one thing she had been denying you. You really fucked yourself over when you suggested the cuffs.Ā Ā
āHard limits.ā You replied through clenched teeth, every muscle pulled tight, as you willed yourself not to cum without their permission. You whined, not sure you could hold back any longer. āCan I please cum?āĀ
āNot yet.ā She answered simply as she pressed the vibe harder against you. āIf we suggest something thatās not a hard limit, but you donāt want to do it, what do you say?ā
You didnāt respond, only catching the ānoā before your eyes closed and your mind went blank, but they immediately snapped open when Natasha pulled the vibe away again. Your hips tried chasing after her, but she firmly held you down.
āWhat do you say?ā She repeated, her voice harsher.Ā
āI-, uhā¦I say no.ā You mumbled, which she rewarded by pressing the vibe back against you, your hips immediately moving against it. āExactly.āĀ Ā
Your moans filled the room as you got closer and closer each second, you were almost there, you almost had it, and when Natasha didnāt ask you anything for a while you naively thought she would finally let you cum.Ā
āWhy do we use safewords?ā She asked suddenly, but you were barely coherent at this point. āHuh?āĀ
āSafewords. Why do we use them?ā She asked again, deciding to give you a bit of grace, but she pulled away nonetheless. Tears were rapidly falling down your face at this point, the continuous denial driving you crazy.Ā
You mouth moved, but no sound came out, not sure what she wanted you to say, what response she was looking for.
āTo make sure everyoneās safe.ā She answered for you, her voice stern but not unkind. You only nodded in agreement, but her hand squeezed your hip in warning. āRepeat it.āĀ
āTo make sure everyoneās safe.ā You mumbled, your brain basically a soup at this point.Ā
āIncluding you.ā
āIncluding me.āĀ
You squirmed uncontrollably, seconds away from cumming. You opened your eyes to look at Natasha, the desperation clear in your eyes. āFuck, fuck, fuck. Please, please! Can I cum?ā You screamed, your body desperately trying to stop the inevitable.Ā
Only then did Natash finally take mercy on you, muttering the words youāve been dying to hear. āGo on, cum for me.āĀ
Your body spasmed immediately, whimpers turning into sobs as the relief finally washed over you. You pulled at cuffs harshly, the pleasure overwhelming you.Ā
Natasha held the vibe in place for a bit, helping you ride it out, only pulling away once your body went limp against the bed.Ā
You werenāt sure who did what next, you felt the cuffs come off, and someone pulling you in until you were pressed against their chest, whimpers constantly passing through your lips.
You were sure you blacked out for a moment, not hearing anything except for your own ragged breaths. It wasnāt until minutes later that Wandaās voice finally broke through the haze in your brain, her tone so soft it could put you to sleep. āGood girl. You did so well, honey.āĀ Ā
You shifted slightly, the action immediately catching their attention.Ā
āHow do you feel?ā Asked Natasha, caressing your cheek, the action so unfamiliar from her that it immediately brought you back.Ā
āGood, so good. I feel like my brain is empty.ā You mumbled dreamily, closing your eyes again, staying quiet for a few more minutes.Ā
āFuckā¦ā You muttered, letting out a heavy breath before speaking, your heart still beating frantically as you looked at Natasha, amusement slipping into your words. āDid youā¦did you actually quiz me while edging me?āĀ
She shrugged nonchalantly, but you could still see the corners of her mouth lift slightly. āI wanted to make sure the lesson would stick.āĀ
āThink you succeeded.ā You mumbled as you closed your eyes again, trying to calm down.Ā
āWe will see.ā She mused, her fingers never leaving your cheek.Ā Ā
They let you rest for a bit longer, before getting up to help get you ready for bed. They moved in unison, one cleaned you up while the other got you dressed, lending you their clothes since you didnāt bring any, not expecting to spend the night. Wanda helped you drink some water and eat a small snack, while Natasha brought you an extra charger for your phone. By the time they finally laid you down and covered you with a duvet you were already halfway asleep, and both women quietly walked towards the door.Ā
Wanda turned to you one last time as she grabbed the doorknob. āIf you need something, come get us, okay?ā She murmured, the firmness clear even if her voice remained soft.Ā Ā
āOkay.āĀ
āGoodnight, honey.ā She whispered.
āGoodnight.ā You mumbled, your eyes closing before you could even register that they didnāt close the door to your room. They left their own door slightly opened too, hoping this little gesture would make it easier to come to them in case you needed them throughout the night.Ā
Cassie McKay /Nurse Reader |Ā The Pitt MasterList | AO3Ā | My Stories MasterListĀ | Tip Jarš°Ā { Reader is strugling with a deep sadness, Cassie sees.
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort / Sadness /Grief / D3pression / Found Family / Cassie Won't Ignore Your Sadness / Mental Health Check / 2.5k words / oneshot / wlw / fem reader / 18+
āI can do it, I can cover tonight,ā you volunteer only for scrunched faces to follow you.Ā
āNo. You're already at overtime,ā Dana interjects and you shrug.
āYou covered me yesterday, and Princess on Tuesday,ā Perlah adds, confused, and you keep typing.
āI need the hours.ā You lie flatly.Ā
Itās easier this way, to lie about it. To pretend like you donāt feel their concern.Ā
How it weight on like rocks in your pockets, wherever you went, it was there.Ā
Robby scratches his chin with her fingers lightly, the noise of his seven am or four pm- oāclock shadow makes a tactile noise.
You ignore the conversation, tuning out, staring at the screen with the hopes it would swallow you whole.Ā
You were tired of questions of how you were doing, how you were handling it all.Ā
The little fortune cookie bits of advice you got from your friends and family.Ā
āIt gets better with time.ā
āThe only way out is through.ā
āGrief is just love in a heavy coat.ā
If that one were true then you were ready to set yourself on fire.Ā
All these throw away saying did nothing for you, but made the giver feel better.
At least here at work, people understood that the stages of grief werenāt real. That throwing yourself into work was more oxygen then staying at home, staring at the spackled way your ceiling gazed back at you.Ā
āThe most dangerous street is between your own two ears.ā
You wanted to move out of town.Ā
To change your name, to give up on love and science. On good things, poems, fresh coffee, movie theaters, the color blue, butterflies, and the pigeons who flapped their wings at the park across the street.Ā
You wanted to give up.Ā
Instead you got yourself dressed in a fog, a blur of steps, like a children's menu with their coloring dot-to-dots.Ā
You werenāt there, not really; you might start the car, pour the coffee, and clock in.Ā
But this type of sadness wouldnāt be wiped off with a simple handwash and a new pair of gloves.Ā
So you came to work, and asked for more hours, god youād love to drown in it.Ā
Give you work, problems, ways to ignore the way your soul was infected, festering and oozing.Ā
Doctor McKay snapped her fingers in your face and you snapped at attention, a moment of the mask falling.Ā
But you were able to staple it back on, loving the way the lie bit into your skin.
āYou hear me?ā She questioned, and you tried to remember what the conversation was about.Ā
Robby and Cassie's eyes met for a moment before he seemed to communicate and walk away.Ā
āSorry, was lost in the chart. Whatās up?ā You interject a plastic bit of cheer into your tone.Ā
A sort of silent prayer; āDonāt worry about me. Donāt make me lie.ā
āThe computer went to sleep,ā McKay told you calmly, the same tone she used for her patients who needed a gentler hand.Ā
You turned back to the screen that it had in fact timed out, only your reflection in the dark screen greeted you. A face you did your best not to look back at.Ā
You twist back to Dr. McKay, a growing uneasiness shared between the two of you.Ā
The nurses and other doctors had already moved on, everyone ready to go home.
āYou doin okay?ā The older doctor asked, you wanted to remind her that you were a nurse.Ā
But you stopped yourself; this was too much, too much energy.Ā
Plus McKay had always been kind to you, this was a stupid moment to make an enemy.Ā
McKay had followed you all day, your own personal babysitter.Ā
So you twist your cheeks until your smile curls back on display.Ā
āIām fine, just a little tired like everyone else.ā You attempt to make it sound light, airy, and easy. Itās the end of the shift; you were fine.
But Cassie just moves a step closer; if there was any point where turning invisible was possible, youād asked for it now.Ā
āYou knowā¦I like to think Iām pretty good at reading people.āĀ
You donāt blink, donāt breathe, simply wait.Ā
āOh yeah?ā You finally manage, trying to blend in.Ā
āYeah, and being on shift with youā¦well I always want you on my cases. Itās easier, youāre amazing at your job, youāre gentle and sweet with patients. You truly are the best, so please understand iām not asking to make conversation. Are you okay?ā Mckay tries again, and you inhale.Ā
Holding it and considering her now.Ā
Everyone wants authenticity, but no one wants to do the aftercare when they get it.Ā
You canāt be honest, that would end you in a psych hold.Ā
āI promise Dr. McKay Iām doing great.ā You use her official title to get her off your tail. Her head tilts to the side just slightly, like she caught the change as well.Ā
āIām not asking as someone you just work with I-ā
You cut her off before she can pretend to care for you.Ā
āIām sorry Iām not my normally chipper self, but I am still performing fine and-ā
McKay puts up her hands to stop you, but Dana misreads the situation and walks over.Ā
āChanging of the guards happening, night crews here. Time to go home.ā She displays as if this is a positive thing, but you donāt feel that way.Ā
āWhat is this?ā You grind your teeth and twist to Dana and Cassie. As if they were conspiring against you this whole shift.Ā
āWhatās what?ā Dana asks, but her face says it all.Ā
āAm I doing my job poorly? Getting fired or something?ā You question, and her eyebrows furrow. Realizing sheād been right to worry about you.
āCourse not, kid; you run circles around morning crew nurses. You know that.ā Dana compliments, but you donāt take it as such. Youāre defensive and twitchy, and it has nothing to do with the hours youād worked.Ā
āHave you made some HR error?ā You challenge again, and Dana walks closer to try and keep this moment private.Ā
āKid-ā Dana takes off her glasses and lowers her voice.
āI donāt need help.ā You turn your glare at McKay whoās eyebrows shoot up, her frown deepening at your clear miscalculation at your words. You needed help more than you could scream.Ā
Dana doesnāt like it.Ā
āThat so?ā Her tone changes like youāve just written your own ticket.Ā
āIām doing fine, and I donāt know why you put Doctor McKay on my ass.ā You say a tad too loud and Cassie chews on the inside of her cheek guiltily.Ā
Dana leans on one hip in her all-knowing way.Ā
āI didnāt tell Doctor McKay to do shit. If she followed you around all day perhaps you got yourself an admirer. We can handle that in a second; now you wanna tell me why my staff is worried about you?ā
You open your mouth to argue again, but she holds up her hand.Ā
āDonāt bullshit me, or Iāll have you on sabbatical with therapy so fast your cute headāll spin.āDana threatens, but someone calls her name.Ā
āPhoneās ringing! Incomingā
Dana sighs and points to you both.Ā
āDonāt you be going nowhere.ā She walks over to the red phone with a new anger flaring.Ā
You take the time to turn to McKay to be even more angry.Ā
But sheās already whispering to you with sensitivity and empathy you donāt want.
āListen-ā
āSave it, what the fuck are you doing?ā You donāt believe in good intentions anymore.
āIām just picking up a weird vibe from you today, thatās all.ā Cassie says delicately and you want to run away.Ā
Your shift is almost over, and you donāt need this shit.Ā
You want to go home and be consumed in your problems, in the beautiful isolation. Away from careful glances and prying eyes trying to figure out how to make your issues not theirs.Ā
You take a slow breath; you could still save thisĀ
āDoctor McKay, I appreciate you. But I really must insist. Iām just tired.ā You try again, unsure where this would end.Ā
Cassie gave a sad smile, just not buying it.Ā
āIām not someone to worry about, okay?ā You mean it.Ā
You could be hit by a truck tomorrow, and theyād have a little moment of silence. Like they did every other patient when they had a spare moment to teach empathy. Then youād be one less spot in the locker room, one less color-coded name on the list of nurses' shifts.Ā
Youād slip away quietly into the void, not with a bang but in fact with that pathetic whimper.Ā
Cassieās eyes are full of an emotion you donāt understand.Ā
āYeah, thatās what worries me. You donāt even know.ā McKay looks ready to cry, but sheās unable to. That you understand, no more tears left.Ā
āYou know how many people on your shift noticed something was wrong? That something has been wrong for a while? Normally you walk in and you make a joke to the security guards. You ask Whittaker about his farm life. He gets to gab about something Santos doesnāt care about. You check in with the babies, even though itās not even your rotation yet. You and Robby talk about weird motorcycle facts until heās in a good mood for once. You bring Dana that special coffee she wonāt pay extra for herself. Itās everyone. You walk into this ED, and you glow. Itās so subtle, but so big. Youā¦you havenāt been smiling this week. You stopped going to the nitque to see the babies. You stopped eating at lunch and making Santos snacksā¦You stopped being you. And your only response is that you arenāt someone to worry aboutā¦Youāve been so busy worrying about everyone else.ā Cassie's speaking faster than she wanted to, saying more than she wanted to. Scaring you off before she could ever get you.
You shrink under her warmth, McKay. Seeing the first tear fall actually makes you ashamed.Ā
āYou thought no one would notice as you picked off pieces of yourself. Making you so small.ā Cassie bites her bottom lip, trying to stop talking, but she canāt now.Ā
āI donāt need anyone to worry about me.ā You say instead, hoping it will put a cork back in this.Ā
āMaybe youāre wrong,ā McKay whispered more carefully now.Ā
You rub at your nose and try not to get emotional as you look down at your sneakers.Ā
āI donāt want, I canāt..ā You fumble; you shake your head and clear your throat awkwardly. Your hands tremble just lightly, enough to make you feel weak.Ā
āI think you stopped seeing what was happening around you for a while now.ā Cassie reaches out and grabs your bicep, squeezing it comfortingly.Ā
Itās so odd; you donāt remember the last time someone touched you, how starved you were for it.Ā
āI donātā¦ā You canāt find the lie.Ā
āIāve been following you on shifts for longer than today. Iād been trying to ask you out for a long while. But when you started to get so sadā¦I thought maybe I should wait for a better momentā¦Then I realized you thought you could just fall into the background. I got worriedā¦.You stoppedā¦You stopped smiling for real.ā Cassie tries to hide the tears now, and you want to run away.Ā
Her warm hand on your arm doesnāt leave, her wet eyes, that caring gaze.Ā
āPlease donātā¦donāt worry.ā You repeat; you canāt handle someone concerned about you.
Dana comes back over, and Cassie drops her hand on you and you hate that you miss it..Ā
āI have two options for you; you can go home with McKay or you can go to the psych ward. But whatever this is-ā Dana waves her hand up and down your direction. āIt aināt being ignored a moment longer, I donāt care what Robby said. Youāre not coping.ā
You pale at the realization that this was bigger than even Cassie noticing. That you werenāt as subtle as youād thought.
āI can still-ā
āNo, go home. I donāt want your apology.ā Dana surged forward and grabbed you in a rough hug. You felt a sob break free as your arms rounded her shoulder. She cradled you in her arms. You felt like a kid being picked up after a scraped knee. Your tears fell without your knowledge. āYou got people here Kid, you canāt just disappear on us.ā
Dana squeezes you extra tight before letting go.Ā
You donāt want to lie to her, so instead you donāt say a word. How do you lie to such a mama brear force?
Cassie helps grab your stuff, brings you out of the hospital and you stop and inhale the summer night air.Ā
āI can take you home.ā McKay half-offers. Already planning on how to take you away.
āI donāt want to go there.ā You answer the first thing honest since this morning.Ā
āCan I take you home with me?ā Cassie asks carefully and you turn to lift one eyebrow at her.Ā
āYou think the sad girl will put out?ā You try to make a self deprecating joke, but the doctor doesnāt find it funny.Ā
āI think if you let me hold you, I wouldnāt let go.ā Cassie answers, and you can see she means it.Ā
āIām not worth this, this devotion. You seeing meā¦Iām not. Iām not good.ā You wring the words around and around. Cassie steps closer, careful of you, scared of you too.Ā
āWeāll disagree on that. Come on.ā Cassie holds out her hand, and youāre reminded of every romcom youāve ever watched.Ā
āJust like that?ā You question, as an EMT walks by you, the hospital noise still rumbling inside. You miss the chaos already.
Your sneakers almost stick, the temperature so hot it made the tar sticky.Ā
Cassie smiles sadly at you again, and you realize there might be something nice about being seen.Ā
Her hands in her jeans as she walks closer like a teenage lover so bashful, so tender. All full of new promises.Ā
āYou know I worried about you before I ever knew you were upset. I worried if you got something to eat before shift. If you got enough sleep. It would be a service to me if you let me worry less. I can make us dinner; Iāll sleep on the sofa, we can watch TV.ā Cassie tries to make it sound casual, not like she was asking you to let her make a life with you.Ā
A word of less worrying, more knowing, knowing where you were and how you were feeling.Ā
Cassieās so close now you can smell the last coffee she had, her lips cracked from not enough water on this shift. The circles under her eyes, all the softness that made Cassie so very real in front of you.
A horrible thought passes, and you have to voice it;Ā
āWhat if Iām sad, so sad that you canāt fix it?ā You donāt want to scare her away, but there was a reality to this.Ā
Cassie reaches her hand over to threat her fingers in yours.Ā
āWho said anything about fixing it? Why donāt you just let me hold it with you for a while?ā Cassie asks so gently you feel tears threaten to spill away.Ā
āYouād do that?āĀ You ask and Cassie moves in, wrapping you in a hug once more. This one is very different than Dana. She holds you with love youāve yet to find for yourself. With a promise of so much more.Ā
cassie mckay and reader get into argument and ends up with reader in tears and cassie feels really guilty and comforts us after she made us cryš love me some fluffy angst
you and cassie didnāt argue often, which was probably why it hurt so much when you finally did. it started over something stupid, something neither of you would even remember in a week, but one frustrated comment turned into another until cassie was speaking before she could think and you were standing across the room with tears already gathering in your eyes.
the second cassie saw your face fall, she regretted every word. ābaby, waitāā but you were already wiping at your cheeks, quietly telling her you needed a minute before disappearing into the bedroom. cassie stood there feeling like the biggest asshole alive, replaying what sheād said and realizing how unnecessarily harsh sheād been.
she gave you a few minutes before knocking softly on the door, her voice much gentler this time. ācan i come in?ā when you didnāt answer, she opened the door anyway, finding you curled up on the bed with your back turned toward her. cassie climbed in slowly, leaving enough space for you to move away if you wanted, and when you didnāt, she carefully wrapped her arms around your waist.
āiām sorry,ā she whispered against your shoulder, pressing a tiny kiss there. āi shouldnāt have spoken to you like that. you didnāt deserve it.ā you sniffled and finally turned around, and cassie immediately pulled you against her chest, rubbing your back while you cried quietly into her shirt.
āi hate that i made you cry,ā she murmured, kissing your forehead again and again. āi love you too much to ever want to be the reason youāre hurting.ā and for the rest of the night, cassie refused to let you doubt how sorry she was, keeping you tucked against her chest until your tears finally stopped and you were both quiet again.
Requests are open! | Masterlist
štag-list (comment a green apple to be added): @cmckaystboy , @ihatepeanutss , @mckqys , @sweet-cheeks26 , @solivvie , @theghostishere25 , @cmckaysdollpuppy , @mytorturedheart , @aliengeilc
Prompt: I decided to pair this prompt and this prompt together to create one big mess :)
Warnings: Poly couple, swearing, Nat being kind of a bitch, crying, a wee bit of angst I assume, fluff, soft Wanda, suggestive tones, shit writing, really im serious this writing is so shit, lmk if I missed any!
A/N: I really hope I did y'all justice because this is my first time writing WandaxNatxreader so please bear with me as I probably write a trainwreck of a story @sxlfishbrokenheart
Also don't ask what is going on with the povs I am clearly struggling throughout the whole damn thing T-T
Movie night at the Avengers' tower means cry night for you. Everyone in the tower has strict assigned seating so that nobody gets in a fight, even though it doesn't always keep the peace.
Everything seems to be great except for the fact that you have to sit beside Wanda and Natasha. Which isn't a problem for everyone else right? Wanda, Nat, and Y/N the towers' favorite trio...
Bestie trio, that is.
While Wanda and Nat are the perfect power couple, you're left as the third wheel that also happens to be pining for the both of them. So, while everyone thinks you love sitting with them on movie nights, you sit in agony while watching them out of the corner of your eye.
Sometimes Wanda, who sits in the middle of you and Nat, will pull you into her and claim that it's just what besties do. You of course, can't say no to her, so you end up running back to your room after most movie nights to cry about your wishful thinking.
You honestly can't even remember a movie night where you actually watched the movie. You usually just fall asleep in their arms trying to soak up the affection while you can.
But your dynamic has changed in the past few months...
Wanda is still super lovey and always pulls you in, maybe even more so than before, while Nat has become meaner and ruder towards you. So, you really feel like you're impeding on their relationship, which makes you get into your head.
Maybe Nat is being mean to me because she is jealous. Of course, she has a right to be jealous when Wands has been really close with me. I don't want to ruin their relationship. I'm not even trying anything. Maybe it is because they can sense that I like them. Oh my gosh, it is... Of course! Wanda is being extra nice because she pities me, while Nat is being mean because she is blunter and more obvious that she doesn't like me. I need to leave them alo-
You are cut out of your thoughts when a hand is placed on your thigh. That hand is none other than Wanda's, she leans in and says, "Hey, you alright?"
You quickly nod your head, and she visibly relaxes, but she continues, "Are you sure? Because we haven't even started watching anything and you look like you're zoned out on the tv that isn't even on."
This conversation peaks Natasha's interest, so she leans forward so she can see you past Wanda with an eyebrow raised. She is clearly waiting for you to conjure up an answer.
You quickly stutter out, "Oh- yeah, um, I am fine, I just- I just zoned out for a sec, you know how my ADHD can be."
Wanda squints her eyes and exchanges a look with Nat, but they let it slide. You still decide that you need to pull away from them, you can't be pretending like they are yours to love when they aren't.
So, you scooch over to the other side of the couch you three share, which isn't too far considering there is almost no wiggle room between the three of you. It still saddens Wanda regardless, but you don't see that it also saddens Nat.
The movie starts and Wanda tries to pull you in again, you consider letting it happen, but today is different. Today you pull away again, but the look of hurt that flashes over Wanda's face hurts you more than any sort of cuddling could ever.
Her expression pains you so much in fact that you get up and go to run off. Nat grabs your hand to try and catch you and see what is going on with you, but you are somehow swifter, so you just pull your arm away from her grasp and walk off.
Nobody saw you run off because your couch is in the back, but Wanda and Natasha exchange each other's glances and immediately jump up to go comfort you.
Y/n just ran off after I tried to cuddle with her, so Natasha and I are currently going to find her.
We are standing in the elevator waiting for it to go to our floor which is also Y/n's.
"Wanda, why did she run off like that?"
I look over at Nat and shrug with wide eyes, "I don't know, she doesn't normally do this. She pulled away earlier before the movie started but I didn't think anything of it. Oh God she didn't want to cuddle today, and I did it anyways I totally made her uncomfortable!"
Natasha cuts me off, "Hey! You're spiraling, clearly Y/n needs us to be there for her, so we have to stay calm. I am sure there is a very good explanation as to why she didn't want to cuddle tonight."
The elevator dings and we rush over to Y/n's room and before Nat bangs on the door, I lean up and hear her sniffles.
Nat hears this too and loudly knocks on the door.
I say, "Y/n? Honey? Can you let us in?"
She lets out a sob, but doesn't answer, and I am concerned for her safety, so I say, "Okay, I'm going to come in now."
I carefully pry open the door and see her sitting on her floor in tears, so I quickly make my way over to her and sit down next to her, "Darling can I hold you?"
She shakes her head, so I sigh and stay seated next to her. Eventually though, she ends up leaning into me and I wrap my arms around her. Once her tears cease, I softly say, "Can you tell us what's going on?"
She looks up at Natasha and gets scared and shakes her head. Natasha tries to ask, "Why did you run off Y/n?"
I know that she means well when she asks this, but the way it comes out is really harsh and Y/n starts crying a little bit again, and just starts shaking her head, so I hush her and lean into her ear to whisper, "Do you not want to say in front of Natasha?"
Y/n thinks about it and softly shakes her head.
I sigh and say, "I can send her out if you'd feel more comfortable."
She stays silent for a moment, and right when I think she is going to start crying again, she nods her head into my shoulder, so I lift my head up and use my powers to silently conversate with Nat in her head.
"She wants you out..."
"What?! Why?"
"Not sure."
"Then why do I have to go?"
"I know you don't get it, but she needs to feel comfortable and if that means that you have to leave then you need to go, please, I love you baby, but we have to get to the bottom of what is going on. I'll let you know after."
Natasha huffs and nods her head without another word, and she leaves the room to presumably go lay in our bed waiting for me to come and give her an update.
Once Nat leaves I go back to tending to Y/n. "Do you want to go on your bed? This floor might hurt your back."
Y/n nods softly and I pick her up and carry her to the bed. When I set her down, she sits up, so I know she is ready to talk. "Alright, what was that whole thing about? You never leave a movie night early, and you definitely don't run off crying... Right?"
The defeated look Y/n sends my way makes me realize this crying is a normal thing for her, "Oh dorogoy, why do you do this? Why don't you come to me or Nat?"
She sighs and says, "I can't go to you because- because... I- I can't tell you."
This hits me kind of hard, I don't want the woman that we love to feel like she can't come to us for anything. "Why do you say that?"
She gets frustrated and just blurts out, "Because Wanda! I-" Her face contorts to surprise at her outburst, and she quickly tries to cover it up, "I said I can't tell you for a reason."
I sigh and secretly read her mind, She is struggling because she thinks Natasha hates her.
All I see when I subtly read her mind are flashes of Nat being a complete and utter bitch to her, and that is all it takes for me to realize that she thinks Nat totally hates her guts.
I nod and say, "Okay, well I will let you figure it out, since you seem to want to be by yourself. We're always here if you need us. I am gonna go to bed I guess, Nat is waiting in our room, are you alright on your own?"
She simply nods and I ask another question, "You'll come to us if you need anything?"
I almost run to my shared room and immediately start telling Natasha everything. "Natasha, she does like us!"
Nat furrows her eyebrows, because I only use her full name when I am mad at her. So, she looks at me and says, "That's old news, but are you mad at me? And it also doesn't explain why she was crying."
I sit down on the bed and tell her, "Nat, I am not mad at you, you are just dumb."
Her jaw drops a bit, and she says, "I'm not stupid!"
I laugh when her subtle Russian accent comes out, (she's been hanging around Yelena way too much recently, but I like it) and say, "I called you dumb, not the same thing as stupid. Anyways, Y/n was crying because she likes both of us, and she is scared she is going to split us up because you don't like her."
She frowns and retorts, "but- I do like her?"
I glare and say, "I know that, but Y/n thinks you hate her because you are mean to her! You know she is a sensitive soul; you have to try a different approach than what you did with me."
The crease across her forehead never goes away, if anything, it gets bigger, "But I am only flirting with her, you know that is how I flirt."
I laugh and say, "Oh Natty, I knew you liked me because I can read minds, Y/n cannot do that, so she can't tell that you like her if you are a bitch to her, no offense."
She looks down and realization washes over her, so she says, "So what do I do? She barely talks to me anymore, and she definitely won't let me in her room right now."
I sigh and say, "you'll have to figure it out somehow."
idk pov (guys I can't- I seriously don't know right now)
It has been a few days since the day you locked yourself away from everyone, and you have been avoiding both of them since.
You have locked yourself up in your part of Tony's lab and you just can't bring yourself to face them. You also skipped movie night last night and everyone was trying to see if you are okay, but you just told FRIDAY to let them know you are fine.
You are tinkering with one of your suit pieces when you realize you need a tool that you don't have, but you know Tony has it on his work bench.
So, you walk over to his side of the lab and of course none other than the Natasha Romanoff is sitting at his bench looking for something. You sigh and contemplate waiting for her to leave, but you really need this tool, and you see it right on a shelf above his desk. So, you sigh and make you way quietly over to the desk, but while you reach out to grab it, Nat also reaches up for the same tool and you bump each other's hands.
Within the blink of an eye, three things happen; Nat and you bump hands, you end up hitting the shelf, and one of Tony's weird gadgets fall onto your wrists effectively locking around your wrists and binding you together.
You groan and Nat says, "Shit, I didn't see you."
You shake my head and turn away as much as you can, and you say "It's fine, I should have made my presence known."
She starts looking at the gadget and you take a second to examine it closer and say, "Oh. My. God."
Natasha furrows her eyebrows in confusion and says, "What is it?"
You groan and say, "These are the vibranium tondricuffs Tony has been working on."
She rolls her eyes when you don't explain and says, "And what does that mean? I might be a spy, but I don't know this sciencey shit you do."
You shake your head from the soft thoughts of her perfect lips and say, "Oh- uhh it is just what he calls them, but when I say he is working on them, it means that he hasn't figured them out yet and I don't think he knows how to unlock them."
Nat takes a deep breath and says, "So, you're telling me, that since Tony can't seem to put away his stupid toys, we are locked together for the foreseeable future?"
You sigh and nod your head, dropping it the second you feel heat rising to your face at the thought of all the things you might have to do with Nat. "Who do we tell? Isn't Tony on a mission?"
Nat groans even louder at the realization and says, "I guess we should go tell Wanda, and then she will help make a plan right?"
You bite your lip at the thought of facing her, and Nat sees your hesitation, "Hey, what's up with you lately? You always want to see Wanda."
You make brief eye contact with Nat and quickly look away until she puts her fingers to your chin and pulls you to look at her. She looks deep into your eyes and says, "You've been distant, ever since..."
You sigh and say, "Sorry, I guess I don't like when people see me cry."
Nat furrows her eyebrows and says, "You're a terrible liar."
You look at her with shock and say, "I am not lying!"
She laughs and says, "Oh really?"
When you nod your head she smirks and says, "If you really didn't like when people see you cry, then why did you never shut us out before? You have cried in our arms before, and you have never done something like this."
You sigh and say, "Okay, well- maybe I have changed."
Nat rolls her eyes as you decide to continue your work on your suit, effectively dragging Nat along wherever you go, not that she minds. She keeps pressing even though you clearly want to drop the subject, "You're hiding something."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"No. I'm. Not."
"If you weren't hiding anything then why don't you tell me why you couldn't face me the other night? And why you can barely look at me today?"
This seems to break you, her constant nagging is really pissing you off and you just slam your tools on the work bench and say, "Alright fine! You really want to know why I have been avoiding you?"
She nods her head, "yes please do enlighten me."
You groan and turn to her completely and just blab everything, "Because! You clearly see that I like Wanda and you are mad so you have been really mean, which is understandable, because she is your girlfriend, but what you don't know is that I like both of you and I know you probably hate my guts even more than before, but I really needed to get that off of my chest and-"
Before you can let any more word vomit fall out of your mouth Natasha's lips are on yours in an instant. They shut you up really well.
Your eyes widen and you push her away as much as you can, given the fact that you're still handcuffed together.
"Nat what are you doing?!"
She looks at you, "Is that not what you wanted this whole time?"
"Well, yes, but what about Wanda?"
She realizes that you don't know that she and Wanda knew, "Oh! Right! Wanda knows you like her. And I knew I just didn't know how to flirt. I am apparently a really shitty flirt when I am being genuine. I can fake flirt, but when I have a real crush, I turn into an asshole. It worked for Wands, but I realized it didn't necessarily work for you huh?"
You shake your head with wide eyes. Still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that both of your crushes like you back. Before you can fall deeper into your thoughts, Nat asks, "Wanna continue what we were doing?"
All you can do is nod, but her lips are immediately locked on your own. The feeling burns but it burns so so good. You two continue to swap spit until you hear someone speak, "Am I interrupting something ladies?"
You both pull away and look to see Wanda standing in the doorway. You freeze, still unsure if she is okay with you kissing her girlfriend, and she starts to step towards the two of you.
Once she gets up really close to you, she gives you a soft look and walks by you to kiss Nat pulling away to say, "Hi baby."
They exchange some small talk, and you are really uncomfortable because you have no idea what to do. They are just acting like you're not there and that you and Nat weren't just kissing.
Then, they both turn to you and Wanda leans closer to you, "Tell me Natasha, was it your intention to keep this sweet thing from me?"
Your eyes widen as Nat shakes her head aggressively letting out a soft 'no'.
Who knew Natasha was a bottom... they even acted like she was the top around me. Impressive.
Wanda lifts your chin a bit to look at her and she smirks, "What is going on in that pretty little head of yours, y/n/n?"
You snap out of it and whine a bit, and Wanda smiles and says, "Do you want a kiss too?"
You nod your head.
"Words sweet one."
"Y-yes please."
She smiles and looks back at Natasha briefly saying, "This one has good manners. She knows her place well. We've known her for all this time and yet we're just finding this out. Oh, we're going to have so much fun with her Natty."
Nat nods her head, and Wanda turns back to you to say, "Now... about that kiss."
She leans in, and you meet her halfway to interlock her delicate lips together with yours. It is likes soft pillows meeting sparkling fireworks.
You get lost in the kiss and try to push a little more for a deeper one, but Wanda pulls away with a soft smirk. As much as you want to pout for losing contact with her, all you can do is send a dopey smile her way.
Wanda exchanges looks with Natasha and they both look back at you. Nat speaks first, "So, now that we have that out of the way, Wands and I were wondering if you wanted to be our girlfriend?"
Your eyes widen and Wanda speaks up a bit, "Don't feel pressured to give us an answer right now. We understand it's new, and you might be feeling overwhelmed, we just want to put the offer on the table."
Then she leans closer to you and speaks in a low tone, "Although we don't like to be kept waiting."
Her silky voice makes you blush a bit, but you clear your throat and say, "Date both of you? At the same time?"
They both nod their heads and you say, "Yes! A thousand times yes!"
They both smile as you kiss each of them multiple times.
Natasha sighs and says, "Alright, what do you want to do as our official girlfriend now?"
You smile and say, "As much as I would love to go watch movies to make up for the last two movie nights that I missed, I really would like to get this thing off."
You hold up both Natasha's and your connected arms up to show Wanda the tondricuffs.
Wanda's eyebrows raise, she's probably wondering what happened to get that locked onto you. Natasha sighs in defeat and says, "Oh, right... that." You softly grab Nat's hand.
Wanda is about to ask questions, but you cut in and say, "Ask questions later, find Tony now. Please."
Safe to say there was a lot to discuss, but it will all work out now that you have your girls.
A/N: I'm so terribly sorry for how long this took me to write... I genuinely thought it would be quick and easy, but college is kicking my ass, and I really didn't want to leave you with nothing. So, it's a little shitty, but it's something!
expanding on this... auntie wanda just can't help herself, can she?
Wandaās fingers slide slowly through your slick folds, two of them pressing deep inside you with a wet sound that makes your face burn. Youāre straddling her thigh on the couch, skirt bunched around your waist, trying to hide your face against her neck.
āAuntieā¦ā you whisper shyly, voice trembling as she curls her fingers just right.
āShh, I know, baby,ā she coos, her fingers pumping in a steady rhythm. āYouāre so wet already. Does your stepfather know what a dirty little girl you are? Letting Auntie finger you the second she leaves?ā
You shake your head desperately. Her thumb circles your clit in lazy strokes, and a whimper escapes your lips. Wanda chuckles lowly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
āIām so jealous,ā she murmurs, voice low and rough. āNatasha gets to have this perfect needy pussy whenever she wants.ā
She pushes deeper, scissoring her fingers, stretching you open. Your hips twitch helplessly, slick coating her hand.
āI wish I had a little girl like you at home,ā Wanda sighs, almost wistful. āIf you were mine, I'd keep you tied to my bed all day with nothing on.ā You gasp softly at both the relentless stretch of her fingers and her words that make heat bloom in your stomach.
āP-please, Iāmāā is all you can manage to stammer.
Her fingers speed up, curling relentlessly against that spot that makes you see stars. You moan into her shoulder, embarrassed and aching, clenching hard around her as pleasure coils tighter.
Summary: after offering to help Jean find her sister, she becomes a constant in your life. She is grateful to have someone willing to fight for her, and finds herself falling for you hard. With Peterās somewhat reluctant help, you two embark into an adventure to take down the DODC. Itās not your fault things start to get steamy
Warning(s): protective Peter Parker, platonic peter parker x fem!reader, praise kink, improper use of magic during sex, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), service top Jean Grey, Jean is kinda obsessed with reader but she likes it, yandere Jean Grey if you squint, telepathic sex in a way
Word count: 5k words
a/n: thank you to everyone for being so supportive of this! Iāve decided to make it part of a series, so stick around for moreš
Part I
The first you noticed was Peterās stance. He was rigid, in ways you had never seen him be before. At least not without the suit on.
āPeter,ā you said in warning as your best friend called your name, moving to stand on a defensive position. āNo.ā
āGet away from her,ā Peter told you, eyeing Jean as if she were a wild, feral animal set free in the middle of a crowd. You needed to stop it, stop it before either of them did something they would regret.
Jean finally moved, taking in Peterās stance for what it was; a clear threat. With arms raised, she stepped away from you and you let go of her hair reluctantly.
āRelax, Peter Parker,ā Jean said, clearly not understanding the severity of the situation. āIām not going to hurt her.ā
āI donāt believe you,ā he said, pushing his feet firmly against the floor for leverage.
He jumped the next second, his eyes on Jean as he landed on her. The next second, he had her arms pinned to the floor and was stranding her torso. With a quick movement you barely registered, he used his organic webs to hold her hands.
āPeter!ā
You jumped off the counter and ran over to him. He was brutal, in a way he never was; he was already hitting her right in the face by the time you got there; one punch on the jaw, the other on her lip, right where the cut had just been healed; another on her left eye, making her head push back against the floor.
Jean finally reacted, moaning in pain when she felt her head collide with the hard surface underneath her. She turned to the side, avoiding Peterās next punch, which ended up creating a hole on the floor that you knew would never be able to explain to the landlord.
āFor fuckās sake!ā You screamed, grabbing him by the waist. You pushed, destabilizing him enough for you to be able to use your entire strength to send him to the side. He fell, a body made of tense limbs and hard muscles, and you went with him. āPeter!ā
As you looked down at him, you finally understood what had happened; his eyes were completely black, void of any sclera, and his heart was beating alarmingly fast. Had it been someone else, you knew his heart would have already given up minutes ago.
āPete.ā You held him down with your magic, trying to get through him, but there was no option.
You had made a monumental, stupid mistake. Hisā¦ his changes, as he called them. They made him unstable, had been making him harsher than normal these past few days, and youā¦
You have let in another predator into his lair. Another predator that had threatened him before.
āPeter!ā
With a strong pulse of magic, you got through his mental barriers āall made of thick web that held you back with every inner stepā and stood in his old bedroom back in high school. May was there too, sitting in bed with him, a hand on his shoulder, and as you stepped closer, she looked up and stood up.
āPeter.ā
He looked up at the mention of his name. His eyes were the same unnatural black color, his hands tightened into fists.
āPeter, you need to control yourself.ā
āIām going to kill her,ā he said through gritted teeth.
You stood in front of him and grabbed his cheek. āNo, youāre not.ā
āI am.ā
āYouāre not,ā you repeated. āSheās not a threat. Please, donāt do anything youāre going to regret later.ā
He closed his eyes, leaning his head into your hand, and when he opened them, they were back to being that shade of brown you loved so much.
With another blink, you were back in your apartment. Peter was still being held down by your magic, and with a look between the two of you where you begged him to let you explain and he accepted the request, you stood up and let him go.
āWhat a nice and warm welcome,ā Jean murmured.
You cursed as you saw the state she was in; one of her eyes was already bruising and starting to blacken, her nose was bleeding and bent to the side awkwardly on the bridge, and her bottom lip had completely split open, helped by the hit you had provided the night before.
You kneeled down beside her, moving your hands to help her break free from the webs.
āEw,ā you said, raising a finger to inspect the viscose piece of web at the tip of it. āHow is this even fucking possible, Peter?ā
Peter sat up and went over to the two of you, wasting no time in freeing Jean from his own restraints.
āIt only comes out of the wrists,ā he promised.
āI fucking hope so,ā Jean threw back, looking at her left arm where some leftover web was still clinging to her sleeve. She sat up and raised a finger to touch her face, putting back immediately with a hiss.
āIām giving you the benefit of the doubt,ā Peter told her. āFor Y/Nās sake. But if I donāt like what Iām hearing, Iām delivering you straight to the DODC.ā
Jeanās shoulders tensed at that. āDelivering me?ā She asked, standing up. āYou really think youāre one of the good guys, donāt you?ā
āWell, I donāt go around possessing people and making them do your bidding,ā Peter spewed back as he too stood up. āJust last night you were threatening my best friend. How the fuck do you expect me to trust someone like you?ā
āI donāt give a fuck if you trust me or not,ā Jean said, stepping up to him. You moved without even thinking, putting yourself between the two of them. āI donāt care what a man who trusts those people thinks of me.ā
Jean and Peter stood looking at each other, neither of them willing to give in.
āAll I know is that you are a danger to this city, and I take care of dangerous things.ā
Jean smiled; there was blood on her teeth from where her nose was still bleeding. With a nod, she took a step back and moved around Peter, reaching for the door.
āWhatever,ā she said, slamming the door behind her.
Silence. You stood with your back to Peter, trying to clean up the blood from the floor. The hole next to it, you have already given up on; you would have to buy a carpet and pray the landlord never checked there until you have already moved out.
āListenā¦ā
You shook your head, eyes firmly on the bloodied floor. You hated how the entire situation had played out; one second you were going to help someone you feltā¦ something for, and the next she was being beaten up by Peter of all people. Peter, who couldnāt control his mutation anymore, and who was a hero to a fault.
āI donāt wanna talk right now,ā you said once he called your name.
Peter knelt on the floor beside you, putting his hand on your arm. āDid she force you to kiss her?ā He whispered.
You let go of the damp rag to dry a traitorous tear that had fallen down your cheek. He squeezed harder, inspecting your face.
āNo,ā you said. āPeter, sheā¦ she has lost her sister. She was taken. Her big sister. Iā¦ā You shook your head. āI donāt know what I would do if I lost you. I have to help her. You have to help her. Sheās got no one else.ā
āButā¦ā he gave you a once-over. āBut how can I trust that thatās you talking, and not her in your mind?ā
āShe canāt get inside my head. Not without me letting her in. And she has let me inside her mind. Iāve seen it, the day she saw her sister was kidnapped.ā You shook your head. āI know you donāt trust her, but Pete, you need to trust me. Thatās all Iām asking for.ā
Peter looked at you. āWhatās my favorite color?ā
You raised an eyebrow. āThatās a given considering your suit. But I can tell you about the time you peed your pants during gym class in middle schoolāā
āFine!ā Peter said, standing up. āIt is you. Gosh.ā
You chuckled. āAre you going to help us?ā
āYes,ā he said. āAndā well, I gotta apologize to her, I guess.ā
āIām going to look for her.ā You stood up. āIs the mutationā¦ are you okay?ā
āWhat? Yeah, totally.ā
āYou beat up a woman in your apartment. That doesnāt seem right.ā
āWell, when you put it that wayā¦ā He flexed his hand, looking at the already healing bruises in his knuckles. āI need to work on the chip. I canāt control myself sometimes. What if Iā¦ā
He gave you a look and a look of horror crossed his face. With a blink, he pivoted towards his computers.
You put your arms around him when he sat down. āYouāre never going to hurt me, Peter.ā You kissed the side of his head and moved away. āI know it.ā
He didnāt say anything, bowing his head to inspect the chip. Without saying another word, you left through the door.
āI was expecting you to have an evil lair or something,ā you commented, looking around the park. āYouāre a bad villain.ā
Jean looked up at you and rolled her eyes. She was sitting on a bench with one of her legs propped up on it, her arm resting on her knee as her other hand pressed a bloodied tissue against her nose.
āAnd your friend is a bad host,ā she replied. Your heart squeezed at the tone; it lacked any real bite or fight to it.
It seemed getting beaten up by Spider-man had left her feeling hopeless. You were starting to understand how he had succeeded in keeping the crime rate so low for so many months.
āWhat, you get your ass beaten by someone once and you give up?ā You asked, putting your hands on your hips.
She gave you a hard look, one that made you swallow and take a step back.
āIām not giving up. Iām never giving up until I find my sister.ā
āSo?ā
āSo, what?ā She asked, throwing the piece of paper to the ground. You made it levitate toward your hand and kept it in your pocket; the less people had access to Jeanās blood, the better.
āSo what are you doing alone in a park in the middle of the night?ā You asked her. āWhy did you leave?ā
āYou have quite an inquisitive mind, you know?ā She said.
Despite how bloodied and beaten up she was, the way she looked up at you through her eyelashes made you wish momentarily she could remain like that forever; her rugged beauty made you feel things you probably shouldnāt be feeling.
āYou love it.ā
She watched as you sat down beside her on the bench. She never stopped looking, not as you pulled out a pack of tissues from your coat pocket and handed them over to her.
āWhy did you want the bloodied one?ā She asked, eyeing the other pocket where you had kept the aforementioned object. āAre you into some kinky shit?ā
You laughed, throwing your head back. āDo you think itās a good idea to give them free access to your blood?ā You asked her once the laugh died down.
āI donāt care what they do.ā
You looked at her, shaking your head. āYou let him hit you.ā
She tensed slightly. She licked the tissue and tried to wipe some dried blood from her nose. She didnāt succeed.
āWhy do you care?ā She asked defensively. You smiled; that tone was the only confirmation you needed.
āI just want to understand you,ā you admitted. āYouāre soā¦ you.ā
āI would take that as an insult from anyone else.ā
āBut not from me?ā You asked.
She gave you a look before crumbling up the tissue. She presented it to you on top of her hand. āNever from you. Here, to add to the collection.ā
āWow.ā You grabbed and bowed your head mockingly. āUsually people give flowers on their first date, but blood is far more romantic.ā
āFirst date?ā She raised an eyebrow. You found it fascinating how her eyebrows were the exact same shade of orange as her hair. āYou consider making out and letting your best friend beat me up a date?ā
āWell, itās original.ā You shrugged.
She sighed, looking straight ahead. āI deserved it.ā
āDeserve what?ā
āPeter kicking my ass.ā She looked at you. āYou wanted to understand me, right? Well, Iām not an idiot. I know what I did was not okay. Donāt get me wrong, I will keep doing it until I find my sister. I will do whatever I have to. Tarnish my soul or whatever.ā
āBut?ā
āBut I shouldnāt have gone inside. I shouldnāt have kissed you. Not while yourā¦ā She gave you a look. āWhile your brother was trying to stop me.ā
āAh, I see.ā You smiled. āYou want to get in his good graces, uh? Trying to win him over?ā
āNo.ā She shook her head. āItās justā¦ itās something my sister wouldāve done for me,ā she said, standing up. With the flick of a hand, she was pushed back into the bench.
āWeāre not done talking.ā
She looked at you. āYouāre bossy, you know that, right?ā
āYou said that already.ā
āIt hasnāt stopped being true.ā
You stood up from the bench, moving so you were in front of her to stretch out a hand. āCāmon.ā
She looked at your hand, not moving a single muscle. āWhat now?ā
āLetās go home, have dinner, and start all over again,ā you said. āIāve made Peter promise to listen to you this time.ā Jean hesitated. āIf anyone can find your sister, itās Peter.ā
She grabbed your hand, the mention of her sister tilting the balance.
āFirst of all, Miss Grey, I would like to apologize.ā
Jean blinked at Peter, then looked back at you. āDoes he have multiple personality disorder or something?ā
āYou just caught him at a bad time,ā you justified him, wrapping your hands around his arm. A silent warning; stay calm and docile, donāt scare her away again.
āItās, um,ā Peter pointed at his desk, where the inhibitor was lying ready to be tested. Jean made a point of not commenting on how her jacket had been moved to the side by him. āItās a mutation. My bodyā¦ okay, so, I was bitten by a spiderāā
āI really donāt care,ā cut in Jean, walking to the kitchen. āI was promised some burgers.ā
āAnd I was promised some peeled potatoes.ā
Jean shrugged, feigning disinterest, but her eyes followed you everywhere you went. When you disappeared to the bathroom to wash your hands, you felt her in the back of your mind, reaching for you.
You replied with a playful tug on her own mind, and heard her little gasp as you walked right back out.
āWell, letās cook dinner. Even though itās like one a.m.ā You said clapping your hands together.
Peter and Jean nodded, going along willingly to every order you sent their way. You tried not to find the predicament amusing, but you couldnāt help it; the sight of them working on dinner together as they tried not to bicker was hilarious.
You thought of what life would be like, once Jean found Sara. Maybe they could move into the apartment next door; you could ask Yelena to help them get back on their feet. Maybe some fake identitiesā or maybe not. If you played your cards right, you could end up unmasking the cruelty that hid behind the faƧade of the DODC.
Life could get better. You hoped it would.
Jean fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow, with her hair still damp from the shower she had taken after dinner. She was wearing your clothes, handpicked after what you considered an unsavory look through your closet. The wounds on her face, however, you had not managed to convince her to let you dress them.
She slept like a baby. You had never really understood the expression until you saw how she was sleeping. Arms stretched all around the bed, legs twisted together and mouth open to snore.
You could tell she hadnāt slept properly in weeks, maybe even months. Being constantly on the run with her sister and then being too stressed and worried to properly rest had taken a toll on her sleeping schedule.
But there she was, sleeping peacefully. Because for some stupid reason, she trusted you enough to be vulnerable around you.
You werenāt sure why you were so touched by that, but damn that woman and her way of making you feel too much.
It was well into the morning. You had had breakfast with Peter, and he had left a few hours earlier to try and discover something else about V-Max āwhatever that place or thing was. After washing the dishes and momentarily checking you didnāt have any shift that day at the Deli, you went back to your room, leaning on the doorway as you inspected the girl.
She had shifted in place, moving to the side to hold your pillow hostage; her face was completely buried into it. With a smile, you walked to the bed.
āJean.ā
āMhm.ā
You sat up on the bed and shook her shoulder. āCāmon, you slept in.ā
āMhm.ā She turned to the side and grabbed your waist. The movement was too fast and sly to have come from a half-asleep person, and you tsked as she pushed you into the bed and hovered over you. āHi.ā
āTraitor,ā you told her. There was no bite to it, and she smiled when she noticed. āTaking advantage of a poor girl like me? Rude.ā
She chuckled, looking down at you as if she wasnāt sure what to do with you; where to touch you. She slotted herself between your legs, her hands going up until they got hold of your wrists. With your arms pinned to the bed, you felt your heart start to beat faster.
āYou, a poor girl?ā She leaned down so that her nose was touching yours. āYouāre a she-devil.ā
You threw your head back and laughed. Jean took advantage of the action and leaned forward, planting kisses on your neck. The laughter was cut short, turning halfway into a gasp of pleasure.
āI like you better like this,ā she whispered against your cheek.
āHow?ā You asked.
āToo busy moaning to talk my ear off.ā
You raised your hand, aiming for her shoulder, but she held you in place firmly. āAsshole.ā
She moved her head, your noses once more touching. āIs this okay?ā
Her eyes were so pretty. Blue, with small dots of green and grey within the iris. It looked like an ocean during a cool winter morning.
You jumped into the metaphorical water, entering her mind so gently she barely blinked at the intrusion. You were getting used to it; to the feeling of Jean inside your mind, and you inside of hers. It was like a link that grew stronger the more you tested it.
āItās more than okay,ā you whispered in her mind. Jean shivered at the feeling of your presence invading her mind.
āI wasnāt wrong,ā she said, tightening her hold on your wrists. You took the gesture for what it really was; Jean trying to regain her composure. āYouāre a she-devil.ā
āYour eyes are really pretty.ā
She humped against your body. āStop doing that.ā She hissed.
āMake me.ā
Jean looked at you. Her eyes were so dilated you could barely see the blue you were starting to like so much.
āSuch a tease,ā she whispered. She let go of one of your hands, but when you tried to raise it to touch her, she pushed it back with her mind. āStay there.ā
You whined, but obeyed. With a chuckle of amusement, she grabbed your throat. The touch was unexperienced, and you could tell she was being frustratingly careful.
She kneeled on the bed and looked down at you. With a touch reminiscent of fire burning during a winter storm, her hands traveled down your body until they found the hem of your shirt. Her eyes went up to check on you, and you nodded.
Instead of taking it off, however, she sneaked her hand inside and draped it over your stomach.
āJean,ā you whined.
āWhat a brat,ā she leaned down and whispered against your mouth. Her breath was hot and it made you want to moan.
āBitch,ā you threw back.
With a smirk, she watched as your body contorted in pleasure when her thumb caressed your nipple.
āSo responsible,ā she said in awe. Your cheeks were flushed and warm, and as you looked up at Jean with begging eyes, she chuckled.
You werenāt sure how, but Jean managed to take off your shirt and sleep pants without making you move too much. You raised an eyebrow, half naked as you were, at the action. She was goodā too good at this.
She paused, her t-shirt in her hand and ready to be thrown to the floor. āWhat?ā
āDo you do this to all the girls that let you stay in their house?ā You inquired.
She didnāt respond right away, her fingers massaging your hips as she inspected you; deciding what to do next, and how to do it.
Finally, she lowered her head and took one of your hardened nipples in her mouth, sucking it in just to tease you. You moaned, your hips going up until they met hers.
She let go of the nipple just to pass her relaxed tongue over the bumble of nerves.
āNo,ā she said. The sight was as obscene as it was hot; Jean, half naked in your bed with hair still messy from sleep, with her lower lip pressed against your nipple. You were sure you would have a lot of fun me-time with your fingers and that memory.
āNo?ā You managed to ask.
āYouāre the only one,ā she said.
āOh.ā
She giggled, and the sound was somewhat endearing considering the situation at hand. Her fingers slipped over your panties, some old ones you only ever wore around home, with the elastic band too stretchy. But as she moved lower and helped the panties out of your legs, she gave them one last look.
āAdorable,ā she said, giving you a little smile. Her bunny teeth popped with the gesture, making your heart skip a beat.
āShut up,ā you said, without any apparent hint of anger.
Her hands traveled over your body, caressing your legs and moving them. She laid them over each one of her shoulders, and gave you one more look.
āAlright?ā She asked, her mouth halfway down your pussy.
You grabbed a handful of her hair and pushed her down. She went willingly, her tongue already out before you finally stopped lowering her head. When she first lapped at your clit, you held harder onto her hair. She hissed, but continued moving her tongue, lower and lower until it reached your entrance. She stopped there and you groaned.
āIf you ask me one more timeāā
Her tongue entered you, successfully shutting you up. Both her hands held onto your thighs, the rings she never took off digging into your skin.
You moaned, pushing the back of your head into the pillow.
āShitāā
You felt it, then, in the midst of pleasure; Jeanās presence, entering your mind at the same time her tongue did, keeping the two of you connected as she began eating you out.
You knew Jean was harsh, a no-shit-taken type of person, so you had expected her to be fast as she fucked you with her tongue.
You, however, had not expected her to be so hungry. So full of want. So devoted to your pleasure she was devouring you.
āFuck, fuckāā
You put a hand over your mouth when she sucked on your clit. She all but growled, her fingers digging into your thighs with such strength you were sure they would leave bruises.
āI want to hear you,ā she said.
She gave your pussy another lick, and when you still didnāt remove your hand, she let go of your thighs to travel up your body. She grabbed your wrists and pushed them onto the mattress.
āI said I want to hear you,ā she hissed into your mouth. Leftovers of your pleasure coated her chin and lips.
āJean.ā You called in her mind. She shivered, feeling your mental hands touching her body.
āShit.ā She grabbed hold of your hands and intertwined your fingers together. With your eyes burning holes into hers, she lowered her head and kissed your nipple. Your response was immediate; a loud moan that shocked you with its fierceness. āGood girl.ā
Damn it if that title didnāt make you want to come even harder. You loved how dirty and sweet she was being.
With your hands successfully trapped between hers, she went back to your pussy, sucking on your clit just to get a reaction out of you.
āSee?ā She whispered. Her breath hit your pussy directly, making you hiss at the sensation. āI knew you could be my good girl.ā
She devoured you for what felt like hours, her tongue switching from penetrating you and licking up all your juices. She was ruthless, stopping every time you were at the cusp of your orgasm; reading your mind to know exactly the moment to let go of you.
āJean, please,ā you sobbed, pressing your cheek into the pillow.
āSeems like I managed to fuck the bratty attitude out of you,ā she said. At your whine of complaint, she let go of one of your hands to introduce a finger inside of your waiting hole.
Shit, her fingers. They did fit right in as you had first suspected it, you thought as you closed your eyes and moaned. They were slightly curved at the tips, giving them the perfect angle to fuck you right. She hit that spot inside of you that made your limbs shake and breath get stuck in your throat.
You cried as you came, pulling on Jeanās hair until she was hissing in pain. She didnāt stop you, though, allowing you to respond to the pleasure she was giving you however you wanted to.
You thought she would slow down, but she only introduced another finger and kept fucking you, pumping them in and out until you were overwhelmed with overstimulation.
āJean, I canātāā
She was on top of you in an instant, looking into your eyes. She smiled and kissed your cheek sweetly, even as she kept fucking you vigorously with her fingers.
āYou can take it,ā she whispered, gasping into your skin. āBe a good girl, baby. Show me you can take it.ā
Your hands went up to her back, fingers scratching her skin as you cried and moaned. Your nails dug into her hard and deep, creating a mess that had you feeling remorseful.
As you came for the second time, her nose against your neck and her body completely on top of yours, you looked at the ceiling and wished she could feel it too.
She was so good at making you feel good. You wanted her to know how much pleasure she was giving you.
Jeanās back muscles went rigid suddenly. Her entire body locked on top of yours, her moans suddenly loud against your ear.
āFuckāā she called your name as she twitched, two of her fingers still inside of you. āWhat the fuck was that?ā She gasped.
You noticed then, after the haze of pleasure dissipated a little, that you had somehow managed to make Jean feel what you had been feeling.
You had come, and so had she, without needing to touch her. Simply from the pleasure you had sent her way.
āThat was so hot,ā you whispered, your voice hoarse. You ran a hand over her face, taking in the bruises. You hated seeing her like that, all beaten up and in pain.
As your thumb went over her bruised lip, the wound disappeared, as if it hadnāt even been there at all. You watched, almost in a trance, as her face got healed wherever you touched her.
She pushed her fingers out of you, ignoring your moan of complaint, and grabbed your wrist.
āI fucked you so good I made you unlock some secret healing powers?ā She asked, raising an eyebrow.
āIā I think so,ā you replied.
Jean lowered her head and kissed your nipple. You moaned, still sensitive. āYouāre a wonder, angel.ā
You chuckled, but the sound got cut short when you felt her fingers hovering over your entrance again.
āI can feel you,ā she told you. You heard it from within your own mind. āAll of you, all over me. Iāve always felt you since I met you.ā
You werenāt sure what it all meant, but as she pushed two fingers inside and the palm of her hand pressed against your abused clit, you threw your head back and moaned.
Jean was a constant in your mind as she built up to another orgasm, her head between your tits and your hands tangled on her hair.
You felt full of her; you were sure you would always feel full of her.
āYouāre not going anywhere,ā she said. You were so close to your orgasm you could almost taste it. Your hold on the back of her head as she pressed your foreheads together must have been painful, but she didnāt say a word. āWith me. Youāreāā She curved her fingers and you cursed. āYouāre staying with me.ā
āI am,ā you promised. The words you two were sharing felt heavy for being simple sex talk; there was a real promise within the gasps of pleasure. āI am. Forever.ā
cassie kissing you for the fourth time on the fourth of july š„ŗ<3 you were secretly hurt when you found out cassie was going to go on a date, but as it turns out, she was only planning on going in an attempt to get over her crush over you, her younger coworker. but cassie canāt bring herself to go cause she only wants you šx10
-š
tags: r is late 20s, guilty puppy mckay
it's not like cassie plans these things to happen. she didn't wake up and decided to just kiss you as soon as she sees you at work. one thing about being sober for ten years is that she can no longer use drunk or high as an excuse to do stupid shit.
like kissing you.
out of all the kisses that you shared so far, this one, in the rooftop, when everyone has left, was the most passionate and intense she'd ever kissed you. took your breath away and left you gasping for air.
"what was that for?" you ask.
"just... just felt like doing it." she shrugs.
a smile graces your lips. "do you wanna come over?"
cassie checks her watch. 9:30pm. she's late to the gallery date. fuck.
"i actually gotta go."
"oh. got plans?"
"just a date."
you think you misheard her. "a date?"
"ah, yeah. with the guy this morning. the soccer player. told him we'd meet at lawrenceville."
surely you're not having an aneurysm, right? she just kissed you and now she's telling she's going on a date. with some guy she just met this morning.
your throat suddenly feels too dry. all you could do is nod and force a smile.
"i'll see you next shift." cassie squeezes your arm.
"yeah... see you."
-
cassie is in her car, gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline. she can't bring herself to drive to the damn gallery. even hoping her car won't start so she'll have an excuse.
what was she thinking asking out a patient, anyway? sure he looked at her like you do. makes her feel... wanted. except this guy could really like her without all the complications you bring.
sure, he's younger but only by a few years. you're a lot younger than she is. you still have a whole life ahead of you whereas cassie... she's already had a fair share of mistakes and lessons and experiences that you should probably have on your own.
the first time she ever kissed you was a mistake. day shift had drinks at the bar, you belt your heart out in karaoke with trinity and victoria, got a little drunk, and cassie drove you home to make sure you're safe. then when cassie was saying goodbye after helping you go to your apartment, she meant to kiss your cheek but you moved so fast, she got your lips. before she could react, you pulled her inside and one thing led to another, you were having the best sex of both of your lives.
the second and third time... well, it sort of happened with no alcohol involved at all. it involved sneaking in the fire exit and lounge though.
and now, four kisses later, cassie feels guilt and shame creeping from the pit of her stomach. she should know better. she's older than you, more experienced than you, but it proved to be that she's not wiser.
because how is she supposed to stop wanting and wanting and wanting -
no.
cassie needs you.
her forehead hits the steering wheel. "fuuuuuuuuucccckkkkk," she groans.
-
you're moping around your apartment in your underwear and an old baggy university shirt that cassie left that one night she stayed over. you grab a bottle of your finest (cheapest) wine and putting on a sitcom rerun on TV when you hear a knock on your door.
can't even be sad in peace in this fucking building.
"who is it!" you shout, too lazy to get up.
"it's me," a familiar voice, one you know all too well, shouts back. then you hear one of your neighbors yelling at both of you to shut the fuck up.
you scramble on your feet, opening the door. "cassie?"
"hi." cassie's eyes wanders at you and what you're wearing (her shirt) and lack of pants. "can i come in?"
"s-sure." you step aside to let her in. "what are you... what're you doing here? i thought you have a date."
cassie paces back and forth for a second, not really sure how to start. "i can't go."
"something wrong?"
"he's not you," cassie answers honestly. "no one else is you." she moves towards you, her hands instantly finding your waist, holding you tight and afraid you might slip away.
cassie now has you pinned against the back of the door. her lips ghosting against yours. "tell me i'm not a bad person for wanting you," she pleads.
"why would you be, cassie?"
"because... i-i'm so much older. you're... you have so much ahead of you. you're -"
"i'm old enough. i'm almost thirty. i am a doctor."
"still -"
"i want you too."
"yeah?"
you nod. god, the guilty puppy look on her face should probably not turn you on this much. but it does. and you know that's even more fucked up.
"kiss me," you whisper.
cassie complies.
your fifth kiss is everything you could ever ask for.
SUMMARY: Maya has a hot flash at work and makes it everyoneās problem. Including yours.
WARNINGS/TAGS: age gap, protective!maya, jealous!reader, Mommy kink, dom/sub undertones, Top Maya, bottom reader, spit kink, light choking, strap sucking, strap-ons, the acrylics stay on this time
A/N: This is a continuation of Sunset Dreams. If you havenāt read that one, youāll want to do that first! What started out as a one and done is now a series titled āThe Burberry Chroniclesā this takes place a few weeks later! Thank you @deathbylesbianwitches for reading this and being my sounding board as always. š
WARNING: ANGST, SMUT 18+, Violence, Mentions Of Sickness And Symptoms, Mentions Of Murder, Lovers To Enemies To Lovers Trope, Agatha Uses Sex Magic To Give Herself A Cock, Rough Sex
PREFACE: Reader and Agatha were together back when they still lived in Salem, but when Agatha takes the coven's power and kills almost all its members, she fled, living only Reader alive
A/N: Flashback In Italics!
Marvel finally grew a pair and gave us the lesbian angst we deserved
And yes this was heavily inspired by Chappell's unreleased song 'Subway'
All I remembered seeing, as the last of my vision faded into darkness, was someone stashing me inside a hollow tree and growing vines shielding me from view. In the far distance, her silhouette turned to face me once more, before disappearing into the thick fog ahead.
I hadn't seen Agatha since then, but I was determined to find her. After everything we'd been through, the last thing I ever expected was for her to betray me the way that she did. She killed our coven and ran off like it was nothing. Like what we had was meaningless and insignificant to her.
From that day forward, I vowed to make her pay, if it was the last thing I did.
It took a while, but I managed to track her down in New Jersey. It became difficult when I couldn't sense her magic anymore, but I knew she was there. It was just a feeling I couldn't shake.
I walked down the lane of houses, wary of the eyes following me, when I arrive at the very last one at the end of the street. I take a quick glance through the window and that's when I felt my heart drop.
The woman I loved all those years ago. The same woman who made me feel like I was actually worth something, just to take it all away from me.
Amidst the blinding rage that coursed through my body was the agony I felt when I she first left. It was a knife twisting inside me with no way out.
Wanting to end this once and for all, I stormed the house by kicking the door open to find her huddled in the corner of her kitchen. She tried hard to mask her fear with a cocky grin, but of course I saw right through her.
"Well, if it isn't (Y/F/N). God, how long has it been?"
"Three hundred years, six months and six days"
"Awe, you kept count-"
She was interrupted by a dagger I threw her way. The blade striking the cabinet when she ducked.
"I see you picked up knife-throwing", she teased.
I lunge forward, grabbing the back of her head and slamming her into the wall. I wanted her to hurt the way I hurt. Only ten times worse.
She falls to the floor, holding her head, as I grabbed another knife, but before I could drive it into her chest, she stops me by my wrist.
"Remember pain? Kinda tickles doesn't it?", I said through gritted teeth.
I only managed to draw a drop of blood, before she reached for the chair and knocked me off of her. She gets back on her feet and makes a run for the door, when I use my magic to block off her only exit.
"I'm surprised you aren't using magic to get out of this one", I say, following her into the living room and blowing a fallen strand of hair away from my face.
She sighed through her nose, not taking her eyes off of me.
"Don't tell me you've reformed?"
"Another witch took my powers. The Scarlet Witch"
I scoff in surprise.
"So you finally got what was coming to you"
Her lips were set in a fine grimace.
"Well...almost. I'm just here to finish the job", I say, using my powers to launch her across the room.
She hits a glass case and falls to the ground with a thud, wincing. Just as I go to throw another one of my daggers, she holds a hand out.
"Wait! Wait", she pleaded, halting me.
"This isn't what you want. Me? Without power?", she chuckled nervously, carefully getting back up.
"This is- this is undignified! Don't you want me at my best?"
She stretches out the kinks in her neck, making sure not to take her eyes off of me.
"Admit it, you prefer me-"
"Horizontal? In a grave?", I cut off.
"Formidable", she answered.
"Come on, baby. You love it, the anticipation", she whispered, taking a step closer.
"Hm. That would be fun", I shrugged.
"Wouldn't it? Just...let me get my purple back and come find me after-"
"Not a chance in hell. Which is exactly where I plan on sending you. I promise to make it quick", I mocked, winding my blade back.
"Wait! Please!"
I roll my eyes, irritated with the stalling.
"Look. I hurt you, I'm not denying that", she swallowed thickly.
"But I didn't want to. I didn't have a choice", she shakes her head.
"You always have a choice. Like not killing our coven for example"
"You don't know what happened-"
"Or leaving me...when I needed you", I struggled to hide the hint of sadness peaking out from behind my anger.
Up to this point, I was able keep my composure, but the longer I looked at her, the more I felt the pain I'd been carrying around for years creep up on me.
"(Y/N)-"
"I woke up alone, surrounded by nothing but a pile of bodies and no one to turn to. You did that!"
Agatha bows her head, unable to hold my hurt gaze.
"I loved you, so so much", my voice was reduced to nothing but tearful whispers.
"So could you imagine just how much it killed me when you left? To find out it was all one-sided?", I hissed through gritted teeth.
"I did love you-"
"No, you didn't. You don't leave someone you loved behind"
I could tell that struck a nerve in her, when the brim of her eyes began to water.
"Why do you think I spared you and hid you in that tree? Hm? So you could exact revenge on me three hundred years later? Why not just finish the job?", her tone now angry at my accusations.
I was dumbfounded by the revelation. It was as if time ceased to move and the rest of the world disappeared around us.
"What?"
"I left to protect you. It was for your own good"
"That was you?"
"Of course it was. Everyone else was dead by the time I found you again"
My brows furrowed in confusion.
"What do you remember?", she questioned, mimicking my expression.
"I..."
"We were in the woods. I was confronting my mother about conspiring to kill me, when you showed up"
Suddenly, rushes of the past engulfed my vision. The grief of losing both my family and Agatha must've been too much for me to bare and caused my mind to distort my recollection of it.
I was walking through the forest, looking for my familiar, when I stumbled upon the empress and Agatha fighting.
"You were born evil", the empress snarled, as Agatha tensed at her tone.
"Empress? Agatha? What's happening?"
The empress turns back to Agatha with a look of disgust.
"No-", Agatha goes to intervene, but was interrupted by me getting struck with a bolt of magic.
"Obviously, I struck her back and when the other members overheard us, all hell broke loose. I was running and fighting for my life for hours"
"Why would she do that? Why would she try to kill you?"
"You heard her, I was 'born evil'. Finding out about the Darkhold was just the nail in the coffin"
Each missing piece of what happened finally began falling into place.
Back in Salem, a devasting sickness swept through the town and nearly claimed the lives of all its residents. Unfortunately, I was one of the unlucky few that fell victim to the disease's rampage.
It started with a fever and a few aches, but quickly escalated to me vomiting blood by the pint. I was bed-ridden for days and sure to die as there was no traditional spell to cure my ills, when Agatha made me a promise to keep me alive, no matter the means.
"I won't let you die", she sniffled, wiping the sweat off of my forehead.
"Agatha-"
"Don't. I'll find a way"
And that's what made her turn to Dark Magic and discover a book called the Darkhold. In the dead of night, whilst everyone was either asleep or nursing the sick, she snuck back into my hut and performed the ritual that restored my health.
"I don't know how she found out, but somehow she did"
I angrily wiped away the tears that managed to escape me.
"Let's say you're telling the truth about what really happened. You still left me", my voice trembled with each word.
"I couldn't risk people thinking you were involved. If they did, you would've spent the rest of your life running and you deserve better than that", she said, getting close enough to cradle my face in her hands.
I inhale, shrugging to get away from her.
"I don't believe you"
"Seems like you do"
Finally fed up with her mind games, I grab her by the throat and spun us around to pin her to the wall. I conjure another dagger and just as I raised it high into the air. This was it. The moment I'd been working towards for the last three centuries...only I couldn't move. She didn't have her powers, so I knew it couldn't have been her.
"You can't do it, can you?", she struggled.
"It's cause you know I'm telling the truth"
She was right. The realization knocked the wind out of me like a bat to my chest. I knew deep down, no matter how much she hurt me by leaving and how much I hated her for it, she only did what she had to...because she loved me. I took a shaky breath and felt another tear roll down my cheek.
She lowers the hand I held the dagger and cupped my face.
"That's it. Easy"
Once my hands were both to my side, she pulled me into a tight embrace, as I nuzzled into her neck.
"Oh, sweetheart. I missed you", she sighed contently.
Her own voice quivering at the feeling of my trembling sobs.
She eventually pulled away just enough to wipe my face dry and in that moment, my eyes poured into her baby blues.
I didn't know whether it was the adrenaline or the burden of the last few centuries being taken off of me, but before I could figure it out, I dropped the knife, grabbed her face and smashed my lips against hers. I backed her up against the wall, careful to guide her around the broken glass.
She quickly got to work on pulling my shirt off over my head and I followed suit, untying her robe. I couldn't help but take a moment to admire her hardened buds peaking through her nightgown.
"Missed me?"
"Shut up", I exhaled, pulling her back onto my lips, as she moaned at my man handling.
Once we were done ridding ourselves of all our clothes, she spun the both of us around to pin me now. She held my wrists against the wall and trailed her kisses down to my neck.
"You're so fucking pretty", she mumbled, painting my skin with shades of red and purple.
I whine at her nibbling down on my shoulder and throwing me around her waist. She takes us to the couch and I grind myself down on her lap, groaning at the sensation. As I returned the favor and left marks all up and down her neck, she mumbles something in Latin. Before I could question what she was doing, I felt something press against my core.
"Is that..."
"Really thought I forgot your favorite spell?", she grinned wickedly, running her hands up my waist to hold me in place.
"I always did enjoy fucking you raw"
I dive back into her lips and adjusted my hips to help her along. She grabs the appendage by the base and uses the tip to rub firm circles on my already aching clit.
"You're a mess", she chuckled, taking one of my nipples into her mouth.
"Please, take me", I moaned, grasping the back of her neck and bracing for her to stretch me out.
In one smooth thrust, she filled me to the brim, as I cried out. It was much bigger than I remembered.
"God, you were always so warm...and tight", she panted between each subtle thrust.
After giving me a moment to adjust, she started with a gentle pace, reminding herself to litter my neck and shoulder with kisses to soothe me.
"My sweet angel, fuck", she groaned.
As I began to ride up and down her length. Her eyes rake over my form and the way my hips dropped forward and pulled back over and over again. With each motion, her tip directly pressed into my g-spot, making her name fall from my lips repeatedly like a cursed hymn.
Her nails claw down my back, earning a wince.
"I'm sorry", she panted.
"Don't stop"
"I don't wanna hurt you-"
"I don't care", I whine, diving back into her lips and riding her faster.
She uses her biceps to hold me in place, ramming up into me harder.
"Agatha, fuck", I whimpered, holding onto her shoulders for dear life.
"That's right, baby. You're all mine"
My climax was fast-approaching and all I could do was fight it off as long as I could, until she gave me permission. Even after years of hating her, my body never forgot.
"I can feel you getting close", she moaned.
"Do it for me, come on, baby. I need you to come", she pleaded, reaching down between us to vigorously rub my throbbing clit.
I came with a scream that surely echoed throughout the neighborhood, but I couldn't care less. My vision momentarily faded to black, as my head fell back from the overwhelming pleasure that consumed me.
She held me against her, groaning as she coated my walls with her warmth.
"Fuck", she grunted, still thrusting into me to help us both ride out our orgasms.
Both spent and covered in each other's sweat and essences, we stay still for a while to catch our breaths.
"Miss me now?"
Too tired to think of a comeback, I simply nodded against her shoulder, hearing chuckle.
Synopsis: It's your hand in marriage in return for ending the terror against your town, and your parents have decided. The Witch of the Westview Woods is to be your wife. No matter how much you might protest.
Words: 7k
Warnings: Arranged marriage, shades of self harm, toxic family relationships, virgin R, oral (R receiving), shades of a praise kink
You glared at your parents, arms crossed over your chest, lips pursed. Anger was coursing through your veins, hot and acute, making you vibrate. You had to keep from growling at them, or lashing out. This was a level of disrespect you werenāt willing to live with. This was a step too far. This was the straw that was breaking the camelās back.
āItās already been arranged,ā your father said, his arm around your motherās shoulder, providing a united front.
āI wonāt,ā you said.
āItās your duty,ā your father said.
āDuty?ā you scoffed, āand what of your duty as my parents?ā
āWhat would you have us do?ā your mother demanded.
āNot sell me off like some farm animal for your own comfort,ā you spat.
āThe Witch of the Westview Woods has made her request clear. If we give her you she will leave our town alone,ā your father said.
āI doubt she even knows who I am,ā you muttered.
āYou are more than aware of your reputation in town. She made her choice. You are to be hers and in exchange our safety will be ensured. You should feel honoured to be serving our town,ā your father said.
āIād be more honoured if I wasnāt the sacrificial lamb,ā you said, āyou would never have agreed to this if it was James she asked for.ā
Your younger brother was the favourite. You knew it. You parents knew it. Everyone knew it. If the Witch had demanded him, your father would have fought tooth and nail to keep him. But the moment it was you being asked for, he was shoving you out the door. James was the heir, you were just a measly daughter. No one needed you except to increase the social status of your family.
No wonder you were being sold off to the first witch that came along.
āAnd I donāt see why it has to be a marriage,ā you said before they could give a half hearted excuse.
āWeāre not risking you running off after youāve been collected by her,ā he said.
āI can run off when Iām married to her,ā you muttered.
āYouāll do no such thing,ā your mother snapped, ānow, stop this silliness. This a show of good faith. An exchange. She receives something precious to us in return for our safety.ā
āYou donāt have to pretend as if youāre not excited about this,ā you said.
āItās a great honour to be chosen by her,ā she said.
āThen you do it!.ā
You stomped away, hiking your skirt up to speed up. Slamming your bedroom door behind you, you let the entire household know exactly how you felt. Falling back on the bed, you buried your face in your pillow and screamed.
The Witch of the Westview Woods had been terrorising your town for as long as anyone could remember. Children stolen in the night, fires set, storms tearing the roofs off homes. Floods and locusts and droughts. One thing after another that no one should be capable of. But she had magic and no matter who was sent to slay her, she triumphed.
And you were being handed right to her.
If you survived to the years end you would be surprised. It made no sense for you to be the exact thing that would save the town. If it all it took was marrying her, how hard could it be to vanquish her?
This whole thing reeked of something. You just wish you knew what it was.
And yet you found yourself being shoved into a white dress the next afternoon, your hair pinned tight enough to bring on a headache and makeup painted over your face. Poked and prodded, your motherās servants got you ready for the moment your life was going to end.
Walking towards the church, your father was your guard, his hand around your arm keeping you from slipping away and living life as a vagrant. Anything would be better than the fate that awaited you at the end of that alter.
The organ music began and on heavy feet you were dragged down the aisle. Fuming, you refused to even look at your bride as you were forced to stand in front of her. You were slow to drag your gaze up her body, over her bare feet and deep purple skirts, over her laced up bodice and into bright blue eyes. Your mouth fell open, shocked by the woman staring back you with an assessing gaze and lips curling up into a smile.
This was not a wild hag living in the woods. This was a woman beautiful enough to steal your breath. This was a problem.
One way or another, the Witch of the Westview Woods was going to kill you.
Her voice was husky as she repeated the vows, blue eyes burning you as her gaze rested on your face. You stumbled through your own vows, the wind taken out of your sails. The anger had fizzled out in the face of this woman, so unexpected, so unlike anything you could have anticipated.
Her hand took yours, warm and steady where you felt unbalanced. She slipped the ring on your finger, the cool metal heavy and you found yourself having to swallow past a lump in your throat. You whispered your I do and then her hand was grasping yours and she was dragging you out of the chapel.
āCome on, hon,ā she said, āwe have a wedding night to get to.ā
Your cheeks heated.
You didnāt even glance back at your family as she practically flew out of town. Her hand was steady in yours, gripping tight enough to hurt. She plunged into the forest, branches whipping at you. Any time you stumbled, her strong arm would curl around your waist and steady you before taking off again.
The house that emerged from the trees was small, a cottage covered in ivy, plants snarled together in the garden, a soft light glowing in the window. She shoved the door open, pulling you into the interior of the home. It was comfortable, a fire burning in the hearth. Books were in tumbling piles and there was an armchair draped in a soft looking blanket. She dropped your hand, stepping further into her home.
āHome sweet home,ā she hummed.
She flopped down into her armchair, grinning up at you. You hesitated at the door, the lace of your dress scratching at your skin, buttons pinching, too tight to breathe properly. She was watching you from behind wild hair, assessing you.
āAre you going to stand there all night?ā she asked.
āNo,ā you said, taking a step forward.
āCāmere, hon,ā she said.
On unsure feet you drew closer to her. Long fingers reached out, snagging on the skirt of your dress, the lace dirty and ripped from your flight through the forest. Her fingers ran over the material, looking up at you from under lowered lashes.
āWouldnāt you prefer to slip into something more comfortable?ā she asked, voice a low rumble that had your knees turning to jelly.
āI didnāt bring anything with me,ā you said.
āEven better.ā She brightened, ādo you need any help?ā
You squeaked, cheeks aflame as your eyes widened and your mouth fell open. She chuckled, falling back to slouch in the chair.
āFeel free to wear anything you find upstairs,ā she said, nodding towards the stairs.
You lingered a moment before making your way upstairs. It was only one room, a large bed dominating the room. You skirted around it, doing your best to ignore it. The wardrobe had clothes spilling out, a mishmash of materials, all in shades of purple.
You tore the buttons from the dress, doing your best to get out of it. You didnāt bother trying to be careful, never wanting to see the torture device again. Reaching in, you grabbed the first dress you could find. Lilac was not a colour you were often given over to wearing, but you supposed it was the best you had. You opened the window, throwing your heels outside into the garden, your feet thanking you for it.
Padding downstairs on bare feet, you found the Witch curled up in the chair, a book open in her lap. A bunny hopped past and you found yourself smiling.
āSeƱor Scratchy likes you,ā she said without even glancing up from the page she was reading.
āYou have a pet bunny?ā you asked.
āEvery witch has to have a familiar,ā she replied.
āIs that a rule or a guideline?ā you wondered.
Her gaze finally dragged up to you and something in it darkened, sweeping over you in her dress. You froze but her grin was pleased.
āWell, arenāt you a vision in purple,ā she purred.
āThanks,ā you muttered.
Lingering by the stairs you let her look her fill. Your weight shifted from foot to foot, not quite sure what sheād be expecting from you. It was your wedding night. You knew how these things usually went.
āDo you cook?ā she asked once she was done.
āDo Iā¦? I can,ā you answered.
āGood because Iāve been missing that skill for more years than is polite,ā she said.
āI can do that,ā you said, nodding to yourself.
The kitchen was small and pokey, washing up needing to be done before you could even begin cooking. Having something to do with your hands made it easier being in that cottage. You could focus on that rather than the woman in the other room.
She was nothing like youād expected. She was hardly the horrifying figure of legend youād spent your entire life hearing about. She wasnāt even particularly mean as far as you could tell. Disarming, flirty, overwhelming, sure. She was all those things. But not horrifying.
You passed her a plate of food once you were done, doing your best with the ingredients you could find. She didnāt look up, taking it from you, fingers picking at the food. You lowered yourself onto the rug in front of the fire, eating your own meal.
āNot bad,ā she muttered, mouth half full of food.
You looked up from the flickering flames, watching her eat. She hardly had the manners that had been drilled into you by your mother. Eating with her hands, she tore through the meat with her teeth, looking half wild. Her eyes were roving over the pages of her book, not paying you any attention.
The sky had darkened outside the window, the only light coming from the lamp lit beside her and the fire you were sitting in front of. The light played over the planes of her face, cheeks sunk beneath sharp cheekbones, eyes shadowed, skin pale. She truly was beautiful.
Maybe you could make this marriage work.
āYouāre staring,ā Her voice was a low rumble.
āSorry,ā you whispered.
āJust say whatever is going through your pretty little head,ā she said, finally looking up at you.
She pinned you under her gaze. Her tongue dragged along her lips, and you found yourself considering all the things that tongue could do. Your cheeks flamed and you had to remind yourself this was a woman who went out of her way to hurt people.
āYouāre not what I was expecting,ā you blurted out.
āWere you hoping for some wizened old crone?ā she asked.
āThe stories were hazy. No oneās seen you in a while,ā you replied, āand youāve been around a while soā¦ā
āSo you naturally assumed I would be ravaged by the hands of time,ā she said, āarenāt you lucky I wasnāt.ā
You pressed your lips together, fingers wringing at your skirts. You hadnāt anticipated flirting. You hadnāt prepared for it. You hadnāt figured out how to respond to it.
āArenāt you just adorable,ā she hummed, āI promise Iāll make you a very happy wife.ā
The implication of her words sent a spark of heat through your veins, right between your legs. If she kept talking in that voice, it would be so easy to ignore all the evil acts sheād done and let her have her way with you. No one in your town had ever elicited this reaction in you.
āYes, thatās the look,ā she said, āI picked well.ā
She settled back in her chair, smirking at you. You ducked your head, not able to handle her scrutiny. Although, if the way your heart was racing was any indication, the wedding night with your new bride wouldnāt be as bad as youād thought it would be.
Pushing those thoughts aside, you stood, collecting her empty plate from the arm of her chair. Washing up, you ignored the sound of her in the other woman. This was hardly the life you were expecting to have for yourself. Even in the last 24 hours, youād grown used to the idea of spending your life with a hag whose company you could never enjoy.
The Witch had turned out to be both beautiful and charming, if not incredibly disarming.
āCome here, hon,ā she called through the door.
On unsure feet, you returned to her. She was standing by the fire, staring down into it. You paused behind her, waiting.
āItās been a long day. You must be tired,ā she said.
āI suppose,ā you said.
āCome on. Bed time.ā
Her hand slipped into yours, tugging you up the stairs. Anticipation curled in your stomach. It wouldnāt be so bad. You might even enjoy it. With the Witch. And not the hag youād been expecting. There would be no need to close your eyes and think of something else as she got on with it.
āHere,ā she said, shoving a gauzy piece of fabric at you.
āYou want me to change?ā you asked, staring down at it.
āUnless you want to sleep in that dress, but I promise you that will be more comfortable,ā she said.
āOh.ā
āSleep well, hon,ā she said, one foot already on the top stair.
āYouāre not staying?ā you asked.
She paused, eyes sweeping over you.
āI appreciate the enthusiasm, but you should get your rest,ā she said.
She left you standing by the bed, clutching a negligee, wondering what youād done wrong. Trying to ignore your disappointment, you changed into the nightdress, the lace and gauzy material sexier than anything youād owned back home. You left those thoughts, slipping into the large bed. It was comfortable, more so than youād been expecting, the blankets soft and warm, the sheets smooth. Laying your head on one of the pillows, you stared up at the ceiling.
Many hours passed, alone in the bed, ears straining for the sound of the Witch down below. The stairs creaked as she climbed them, padding on soft feet. You closed your eyes, not wanting to be caught disobeying orders. The soft thump of fabric hitting the floor, a shuffle, and then the mattress was dipping beside you.
āDoes the bed not meet your standards?ā she asked into the darkness.
You sighed, eyes blinking open.
āItās very comfortable,ā you said.
āWere you waiting for me?ā
The bed shifted. Her warmth brushed against you and a hand slid over your waist. You stiffened, then forced yourself to relax. This was more what you were expecting. Touches and a bed and the cover of darkness.
āRelax, hon,ā she whispered, the hand retreating.
You turned your head, staring at her in the darkness. She rolled over, presenting her back to you, leaving you nothing back dark hair to look at. You watched her breathe for a moment.
āWhat should I call you?ā you whispered across the distance.
āWhat?ā She rolled to look at you.
āI canāt keep calling you the Witch,ā you said, āI donāt know your name.ā
āHuh.ā She rolled back to where she was before, not giving you an answer.
You watched her for a moment more before you sighed. Rolling over, keeping your back to her, you closed your eyes and did your best to relax.
āAgatha,ā she whispered. You froze, āmy name is Agatha.ā
You settled down, holding her name close to your heart, like it was something precious. No one in town knew her name. This was just for you.
From that day you settled into some kind of routine with Agatha. Youād wake early while she luxuriated in bed long after the sun had risen. Youād clean and cook and tend to the garden, doing all you could to turn her cottage into a home. Agatha would swan in and out of the house, sometimes gone for hours, singing under her breath, or muttering curses.
In the evenings, sheād curl up in her chair and youād sit on the rug, whiling away the hours in companionable silence. Youād embroider or begin the process of drying herbs, or stare at the flames as you thought with SeƱor Scratchy in your lap.
You hadnāt been back to town, nor had you heard from your family. Theyād well and truly abandoned you the moment youād said I do. Truth be told, you werenāt sure you wanted to see them. Theyād given you up so easily and clearly werenāt missing you. In your cottage deep within the Westview Woods, you were comfortable and safe and calm. You knew your place and you were never forced to do anything you didnāt want to do.
Sometimes youād catch Agatha watching you. Blue eyes peering out the window as you worked at taming the garden or glancing up from a book as you cuddled with SeƱor Scratchy. Each time it made you self conscious but you never asked her about it. The relationship was tenuous at best. You didnāt want to upset her.
She would still flirt with you and she still seemed to gain enjoyment from flustering you. But she wasnāt doing anything to treat you like a real wife. You had no clue what it was she was getting out of this arrangement other than a maid. If that was what sheād wanted, she could have just asked for it. The wedding wasnāt necessary.
And yet you were her wife and you would be until one of you died.
It took about a month before you cracked open one of her books one night. You had no idea what she could be reading and your curiosity got the better of you in a moment of boredom. Looking down at the page, the incomprehensible symbols made no sense to you. Flicking through more and more pages, you tried to understand.
āInterested in magic?ā she asked.
Startled, you dropped the book. Apologising, you snatched it up, turning to look at her. She was standing in the doorway, night pressing in behind her, returned from wherever it was she disappeared to for those long hours. There was an errant leaf tangled in her hair. Standing, she froze as you reached out, tugging it free and throwing it behind her, out the door.
You hadnāt realised how close youād gotten to her. Her face was so close to yours you could count the shades of blue in her eyes. Your breath froze in your chest and you stilled.
āItās not safe to learn magic on your own,ā she whispered, reaching for the book in your hand.
You let her take it without argument, a sense of shame from being caught reminding you how this conversation had started. You stepped away from her, putting distance between the two of you. After weeks together, you thought her ability to fluster you with just her presence were gone, but your heart was thundering and you felt breathless.
āIf youāre looking for a mentor, Iām more than happy to teach you,ā she said, voice softening.
āYouād teach me magic?ā you asked.
āWhat are wives for?ā she said, sweeping into the room, depositing the book on top of a tilting stack. If the way you were feeling was any indication, wives were for a lot more than teaching magic.
She settled you on the rug, taking her usual place in her chair. At her feet, you gazed up at her, trying to ignore the way there was a throbbing between your legs and fire in your veins. She reached out, taking your hand, delicate fingers manipulating it until it was in a position that met her approval.
āAlright, the first thing you should know is that your power comes from deep within you. Not everyone has enough to create even a spark of magic. Do not feel disappointed if you canāt. It takes a very special woman to do even the most simple of magic,ā she said.
āYou must be the most special woman in the world then,ā you said, looking at the point where her hand met yours.
When she didnāt respond to you, you looked up. She was staring down at you, something unreadable in her eyes you hadnāt seen before.
āI suppose I am,ā she replied, but it wasnāt with the cocky little tilt of her head youād grown used to, ānow, burrow down deep into yourself. Find that well of power, see what you have.ā
You closed your eyes, feeling her finger stroke over the palm of your hand, trying to find what she was talking about. All you found was the fire she brought out in you, the anger still simmering at your family, the disappointment and hurt youād been carrying for longer than you could count at your place in the world. It was why you kept your hands busy, refusing to look too deeply into the way your family had let you down.
It burnt. Lingering on it hurt. The scars left on your soul were sore to the touch. You pressed harder. The pain, at least, was a relief from the feeling of shame you carried with you at all hours of the day.
āWell, would you look at that.ā
You blinked your eyes open, finding light reflected in Agathaās eyes. Cradled in the palm of your hand was a pale blue energy, roiling and rolling in the air. Your mouth fell open, staring at it, trying to wrap your head around what you had done.
It flickered out.
āApparently Iām not the only special woman in this house,ā Agatha murmured.
You cheeks heated, eyes widened as you stared up into her face. She lent forward, fingertips brushing over the apple of your cheeks, soft and gentle, barely there, making you shiver.
āYes, I chose very well,ā she said, drawing back.
Under her assessing gaze, you did it again and again and again, until your head began to hurt. She put you to bed, tucking you in, fingers gently running through your hair until you fell asleep. Just a month ago, you could have never imagined being treated so comfortingly by her.
So began the next phase of your routine. Your days were your own but your nights were Agathaās. In front of the fire, sitting at her feet, a desperate need to please her, she taught you to wield and control your own power. Her murmured praises and her soft touches made your head spin, addictive and heady, only spurring you on for more.
Watching from the window one afternoon, the sunlight streaming through the boughs of the trees above, you focused on Agatha wandering through the garden. Youād tidied it since arriving, giving it more order, planting things you found out in the forest to go with what you already found strangled under the weeds. Your hands had been in the dirt, coaxing life back into the garden.
She bowed her head over a flower, you thought maybe smelling it. A smile bloomed over your own face, watching her as she moved around the garden. She was so gentle with the plants, pausing occasionally to look at the work youād done. You wished you knew what she was thinking but she was always so enigmatic. You never knew what was going on behind her eyes.
When she returned to the cottage, a flower was clutched in her hand, petals soft, a new bloom. You looked up from the book sheād asked you to read, legs curled beneath you, skirt pushed up around your knees to bring some cool air to your skin. Spring had well and truly arrived.
āAre you working for me?ā she purred.
You nodded, watching her swaying hips as she approached. All those touches and all that praise had only made it harder to pretend as if she didnāt set you alight. She crouched in front of you. With careful fingers, she tucked the flower behind your ear. Your breath caught. She tilted your chin up, the touch of her fingers against your skin making you heat again. Her eyes roved over your face, drinking you in.
āBeautiful,ā she whispered.
It was like being pierced by an arrow. You would have fallen into her in that moment, the words begging for a kiss tingling on your lips. Before they could spill out, she stood, leaving you on the rug, breathless and wanting.
āIāll be gone for a few days,ā she said, turning from you.
Her skirt fanned out around her calves and just the flash of skin had your mouth drying. It wasnāt as if youād seen the sight before, but every time it only made you more desperate to see more. It took a moment for her words to make sense to you.
āYou are?ā you asked, scrabbling to your feet.
āIām afraid so,ā she said, fingers tracing over the spines of some of her books, āI have business in the next town over. Iām sure you understand.ā
āOf course,ā you said, voice small.
āYou might want to go visit your family while Iām gone. You must be missing them,ā she said.
āOkay.ā
āAw, donāt pout, kitten,ā she said, curling her arm around your waist as she turned back to you, āIāll be back before you know it.ā
Her hand burned through the thin fabric of your dress. It was these touches that drove you mad. You always wanted more, to feel that touch on every inch of your body. She pulled you closer, soft curves pressing against yours in a way that had your head reeling.
āTry not to miss me too much,ā she said before releasing you.
You could only watch as she moved back to the door. She lingered in the doorway, snatching one last look at you before she swept out of the cottage. Despite the fire roaring and the sun streaming in through the window, you felt suddenly cold.
The days stretched without Agatha in the cottage. The bed was too big and although you could sit in the chair before the fire at night rather than the hard flagstones beneath the rug, it left you feeling unsettled. You lazed through the days, perking up at every little sound, hope climbing up your throat only to be crushed back down when it wasnāt her return.
When the storm swept in, you felt the first pangs of worry. Sequestered in the house, you were climbing the walls, not able to drown your worry in work in the garden. The cottage was clean and there was only so much folding and refolding of clothes you could do before you began to question your sanity.
Lying in bed, you did your best to keep your thoughts away from Agatha. With the storm raging outside, it was easy to conjure images of her getting hurt or stranded, flashes of lightning striking her down too far away for you to find her and bring her home. You tossed and turned, the bed feeling huge and empty and cold without Agatha in it with you.
A crash from downstairs had you jolting up. You froze, listening intently. Another bang. Crawling to the edge of the bed, your heart was thundering, fear seeping into your veins. Sneaking to the top of the stairs, you peeked down.
A shadowed figure was standing in front of the fire, burnt down to their embers. You grasped the closest heavy object, a candlestick fancier than anything else in the cottage that youād never quite built up the courage to ask about, and crept down the stairs. The figure didnāt seem to hear you, bending to stoke the flames. Raising the candlestick above your head, you swung.
A pale hand whipped out in a flash of lightning, grasping your wrist. The candlestick clattered to the floor. You gasped.
āThis wasnāt quite the warm welcome home I was hoping for,ā Agatha said.
āYouāre back,ā you said, breathless, heart thumping for a whole new reason.
āYou werenāt expecting someone else, were you?ā
You threw yourself into her arms, not even bothering to answer her. The joy at her reappearance in your cozy cottage was overwhelming. She chuckled, catching you, pressing her face to the top of your head.
āNow this is more what I was hoping for,ā she said.
She trembled in the cage of your arms. Pulling back, you realised she was completely soaked through, wet hair stuck to her skin in a tangle. Her clothes were plastered to her and she was shivering. You ran your hands down her arms, feeling the goosebumps, grasping her hands.
āYouāre freezing,ā you said, ācome here and warm up.ā
You sat her down in her chair, stoking the fire until the flames began to blaze again. You turned, finding her gaze locked on you. It was dark and dangerous, roving over you with a level of possession you werenāt used to. Your knees trembled, turning to jelly as she drank her fill.
Glancing down, you realised your negligee was clinging to your body, wet from the embrace youād given her, see through in all the places you werenāt sure you wanted it to be. Your eyes met hers again, your shiver nothing to do with the rain water seeping into your skin. Her tongue ran along her lower lip, stealing your breath.
āYou should get out of those wet clothes,ā you whispered.
āIs that an offer, hon?ā she asked.
Youād missed her. You wanted her. And from the way she was looking at you, she wanted you too. So why not take what you wanted? She certainly had when sheād demanded a wedding.
āYes.ā
Her face brightened before it settled into something more predatory. Holding a hand out to you, she pulled you towards her. You fell into her lap, a small squeak on your lips. Her hand slid up your thigh, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
You lent forward, capturing her lips in an all consuming kiss. She growled, hands grasping you, dragging you closer. You whimpered into her mouth, hands clutching at her shoulders. She burned beneath you, every point of contact making you quiver.
Her lips were searing hot as they made their way down the column of your neck. Your head tipped back, giving her more access, fingers burying themselves in her hair. Her name was a breathy moan on your lips. When her teeth sunk in, you groaned, pressing her closer.
āWeāve been married for months,ā you murmured, breathless, desperate for her.
āWe have,ā she said, whispered into her skin.
Her tongue ran over your skin. You forgot what you were saying, luxuriating in the feeling of her worshipping your neck. Her hand was pushing up past the hem of your negligee, seeking out warm skin.
āYou were saying, hon?ā she asked, lips brushing your skin.
āOh uhā¦ā Her fingers ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh, ājust that youā¦ā
āI?ā she murmured, finding the vulnerable spot behind your jaw.
āYou never asked me to fulfil my wifey duties,ā you sighed.
āIām not a monster who forces young women to got to bed with me when they donāt want to,ā she said before her lips closed over your earlobe.
āBut I did want to,ā you sighed, āI do.ā
āSo Iām gathering, hon,ā she said.
You kissed her again, already addicted to her taste. With arms stronger than you were expecting, she lifted you, laying you down on the rug youād spent so many evenings on. The fire was warm from so close, the air heating the chill of the night. A clap of thunder boomed above the house. You jumped, before laughing, self conscious at your own reaction. Her smile was fond.
āYou know, when I gave you this nightie, I was hoping youād look as delicious as Iād imagined,ā she said, one hand stroking down your side, āit looks even better when itās wet.ā
She drew back, looking down at you. The front was completely soaked through, practically baring you to her faze. You shivered, breath stuttering. The look in her eye suggested she wanted to eat you alive. Her hand stroked between your breasts, pressing against your stomach when you wriggled beneath her.
āStay still, pet. Iām enjoying my new wife,ā she said.
Both hands cupped your breasts through the lace and silk of the dress you were in. Each nipple was already peaked, pebbling from the chilled water youād had pressed against your skin. Palming them, she watched your face. You whimpered, not used to someone else touching you like this.
āYou make such pretty noises for me, pet,ā she said right as she pinched your nipples.
Your back arched up into her touch, offering yourself to her. Your hands grasped her hips, breathing coming fast.
āHave you ever done this before?ā she asked, watching you writhe under her touch.
āNo,ā you sighed.
āReally?ā She sat back to look at you, a look of pleasure passing over her face, āIāll be your first?ā
āNo one ever made me want to before,ā you replied, pushing your hands under her skirts, wanting to feel her skin. It was as soft as youād imagined, the muscles of her thighs strong under your palms.
āYou are a gift,ā she said before swooping in to kiss you again.
You lost yourself in it, your entire body a live wire underneath her. She hummed when your hands delved further up her skirt, the fabric still heavy with rain. You pulled away, ignoring the displeased noise she made.
āI wasnāt kidding about getting you out of these wet clothes. Youāll catch your death,ā you said.
āWell, if you insist.ā
She stood, pulling the dress over her head. In the firelight, she was nothing but enticing shadows and soft curves. You stared, overwhelmed with how beautiful she was. You could spend the rest of your life looking at this view. Pushing up onto your elbows, you let your gaze travel over her, practically drooling. You pressed your thighs together.
āDo I pass muster?ā she asked.
āYouāre the most beautiful thing Iāve ever seen,ā you breathed.
Something shifted in her face, almost as if youād surprised her. In the shadows, you couldnāt be sure, but you thought her cheeks might be flushed. She lowered back onto her knees, straddling your waist. Your hands skimmed over her ribs, feeling her inhale beneath your fingertips. You cupped her breasts, feeling the weight of them in your palms.
āI think itās only fair that I return the favour,ā she said, āafter all, I got you all wet.ā
Your cheeks heated and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, but you let her peel the negligee from your body, throwing it aside. Her hands were everywhere, barely touching you. Your whimper only had her grinning down at you.
āUse your words, pet,ā she said.
āTouch me,ā you begged, āplease, Agatha.ā
āAll you had to do was ask,ā she said before her hands were back on your body.
Her lips were soon to follow after, wrapping around one nipple. Your strangled moan only seemed to spur her on. The rumble of a groan vibrated through your body and you arched up into her mouth.
Her hands were sliding further down your body and you felt on fire. When she began to press kisses to your sternum, making her way down your body, you gasped. Her hands were gently as they parted your legs, settling between them. You had no idea how she was doing it, but your entire body was a live wire, sending you insane with how good it felt.
āI need you to tell me if youāre about to change your mind,ā she said, her lips pressing the crease of your thigh, āIām not sure Iāll be able to stop once Iāve tasted you.ā
āIf you stop you can go back out into that storm right now,ā you said.
āI knew I chose right.ā
Your head fell back as her tongue made contact with the hot throbbing between your legs. You cursed, loud enough to be heard over the thunder still crashing up above, and your hips jumped up into her mouth. Her talent didnāt just lie in magic, although it felt pretty magical whatever it was she was doing. You gave yourself over to it, uncaring that you were being too loud or too desperate. Nothing had ever felt as good as her mouth on you.
Your fingers tangled in her hair, holding her there, hips undulating. When her lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves you knew resided between your thighs, you made a choked noise, her name unintelligible. She was moaning, the vibrations driving you crazy, spinning higher and higher. Your legs were trembling where they rested over her shoulders.
When the dam broke, you screamed, clutching at her. Looking up your body, she caught your eye, the smouldering burning in her gaze only making you wonder what she would look like when you returned the favour. She drew back, her grin very satisfied despite you being the boneless body on the rug.
āI didnāt know it could feel like that,ā you whispered.
āYouāve neverā¦?ā she asked.
āNever like that,ā you said.
The fingers in her hair tugged her up your body. Your legs curled around her waist as you kissed her, tasting yourself on her tongue. She chuckled, drawing away, fingers running over your lower lip.
āYou are a wonder,ā she said, āI knew you would be that first time I saw you.ā
āWhen did you see me?ā you asked, sure youād remember if youād seen her before the wedding.
āIād heard rumours of the town beauty, grown into a woman of marriageable age. The way the men were hoping to own you. Iāll admit I was curious. And then, there you were, wandering through my woods, a basket of flowers on your arm. I happened to be passing by as you stopped to speak to a lovely little bunny and I knew I had to have you,ā she said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, āIām never wrong about these things.ā
āSo thatās why you asked for me specifically,ā you mused.
āI wanted the prettiest girl in the village,ā she said before she swooped down to kiss you again. For a while, you could get lost in it.
āAgatha,ā you sighed when her lips began to trace a path down your neck again.
āCome, pet. Iāve had a long journey and Iām tired. Iād much rather sleep in our bed,ā she said.
She rose, holding a hand out to you. You grasped it, letting her haul you to your feet. Stumbling you fell against her body, warm skin against warm skin, making your head spin. She slipped her arm around your waist, holding you close.
She swept you up into her arms, carrying you up the stairs. Depositing you on the bed, you stared up at her until she slipped between the sheets, taking the place that had been empty for too many days. She held her arms open to you, letting you curl against her her side.
āIām glad you chose me to be your wife,ā you whispered, face buried in the place her shoulder met her throat.
āAs am I, hon,ā she murmured, lips pressing to the top of your head.
You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax properly for the first time since sheād left. Her fingertips were trailing over your skin, stroking in a comforting rhythm. You were on the edge of sleep when you heard her soft whisper.
āI didnāt expect you to stay.ā
Blinking your eyes open, you turned your head up towards her. She was already gazing down at you, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.
āWhat do you mean?ā you asked.
āI gave you leave to return to your family. I was expecting to find our home empty upon my return,ā she said.
āBut weāre married,ā you said.
āThatās never stopped a woman before,ā she replied.
āWhy would I choose my family when I have you? Theyād never forgive me for leaving you. They gave me no choice in my future,ā you said, āI donāt want to ever see them again.ā
āThey didnāt?ā Her fingers tightened in your hair.
āThey told me Iād be marrying you. There was no discussion, no understanding that perhaps I didnāt want this.ā You shifted closer to her, legs tangling together, āstupid girl. How could I ever not want you?ā
āIām a centuries old witch that terrorises local towns?ā she suggested.
āMaybe, but youāre my witch,ā you said, āand more importantly, youāre my wife. And I choose you. I didnāt like when you were gone. I was counting down the minutes youād return.ā
āNext time, would you like to come with me?ā she asked.
āPlease,ā you said.
āThen you will,ā she replied.
Your lips brushed her skin as you settled against her again, closing your eyes, kissing the closest part of her. Her breath hitched and she tightened her arms around you. Holding her close, you sighed, letting yourself relax again. With her home you had nothing to worry about anymore.
āMore fool your parents for handing over the only person who could bring me to my knees,ā she murmured, so soft you werenāt sure you were meant to hear it.
Slipping closer to sleep, comforted by the sounds of her breath and the warmth of her skin, you thought maybe being forced to marry the Witch of the Westview Woods was the best thing that had ever happened to you.
You are covered in marks, but it's still not enough for Natasha. Wanda is enjoying a very good book.
Doms Wanda Maximoff and (feral) Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
content: possessive and feral nat, nonchalant wanda, degradation heavy, tongue and finger fuckin that pussy, magical restraints, lowkey nat gets a lil mean
A/N: yeah this one is shorter, tbh I haven't been in a good headspace to write a longer fic, but i loved this idea and had to write it. plus honestly sometimes as a reader I want a shorter fic, so maybe this quick read appeals to someone.
18+, NSFW oneshot, MINORS DNI | 1.5k words
ao3
Natasha has been on your tits for ten minutes and she is showing no signs of stopping.
She has covered them. That is the only word for itācovered. Claimed, mapped every inch with her mouth and her teeth until there was barely a patch of unmarked skin left on either one. She bites the swell of your left breast and surveys the damage with satisfied eyes before moving to the right, biting there too so it matches, like symmetry matters to her right now.
Wanda turns a page.
She's been exactly where she was when this started: propped against the headboard with her book open across her knees, one lamp on, completely undisturbed. Her magic has your wrists pinned on either side of your head, scarlet tendrils wrapped sure and immovable around each one. She didn't look up when she sent them. She hasn't looked up since.
Natasha pulls at your nipple with her teeth and you arch off the mattress with a cry.
"Hush now, darling," Wanda says, her voice soft and gentle, probably supposed to be calming.
Natasha isn't feeling as soft.
"Shut. Up." She growls it against your breast, directly at you, her eyes flicking up to yours for one searing second before she bites down again. "Stay fucking still."
You are not staying still. You physically cannot stay still, your whole body reacting to every press of her teeth before your brain has caught up. Natasha takes your squirming as a personal challenge. Her hands grip both your breasts at once, fingers digging in, squeezing hard enough that you feel it in your teeth, and she bites the underside of your left breast in a place she hasn't been yet. She is being thorough about this, you realized several minutes ago.
"She's not listening," Wanda observes. She sounds mildly entertained, turning another page.
"I know," Natasha growls, low and rough. She looks up at you from where her mouth is still pressed to your breast. "Little slut." Her thumb drags over your nipple, not gently. "Look at her, trying to grind against nothing. Fuckin' loves this."
She's not wrong and you all know it.
She licks a slow stripe across your chest, collarbone to collarbone, tasting the marks she's already made, and her hands move down to your waist before she drags her mouth down your sternum. She bites your stomach, moving lower. She has been working toward this for a while now and you can feel exactly how long in the accumulated ache of every mark she's left getting you here.
She bites your hip, then bites the other.
Her hands slide to your thighs and she wrenches them apart, her fingers pressing into the skin hard enough that you know they'll bruise, and she looks at what's between them with extreme satisfaction.
You are soaked. You are embarrassingly, obviously, completely soaked, and she can see it.
"Dripping," she growls. "Makin' a mess."
"She always does," Wanda says softly, it sounds like to herself, not looking up. "She can't help it. Our messy girl."
Natasha bites the inside of your thigh.
She holds the biteāteeth pressing in past the point of sharp into something that blooms hot and makes your hips try to move. It, of course, gets you absolutely nowhere because her hands are holding you exactly where she put you and Wanda's magic has your wrists. She releases the bite and runs her tongue over the mark, slow and wet, and then does the exact same thing to your other thigh.
You are saying please. You can hear yourself saying it, a continuous beg that you didn't decide to start. Natasha looks up at you from between your legs with wet eyes and a mouth that's already slick.
"Pathetic," she growls, watching your hips twitch uselessly against the air. "Can't even keep still when there's nowhere for you to go. Bet you'd hump my face if I let you, wouldn't you? Needy little thing."
"To be fair," Wanda says pleasantly, "you have been at this for quite a while, honey." She turns a page. "She's been very patient. Look at her clenching around nothing. It's almost sad."
Natasha makes a sound, her mouth finding the inside of your thigh again, higher this time, right at the crease, and she bites there suddenly. You cry out and pull against every restraint you have and get nowhere at all.
Then she licks a single long stripe up through your folds, the flat of her tongue dragging through exactly how wet you are, ending in a slow circle right at your clit.
Your whole body jolts. Her hands grip your thighs tighter, pulling them wider, and she does it again, and again, until she's not teasing anymore. Her tongue pushes inside you, fucking into you with the same relentless focus she gave your thighs, curling and dragging on every withdrawal, and the wet, obscene sound of it against how soaked you are fills the whole roomāloud, filthy, impossible to ignore.
"Fuck, listen to that," Natasha murmurs.
Wanda hums in agreement.
"Mine," Natasha growls next, the word vibrating straight into you, and then her hands leave your thighs entirely, sliding up to grip your hips insteadāboth palms wide, fingers digging ināand she hauls you down into her mouth, holding you exactly where she wants you while her tongue works you open, grinding her face into you like she wants your slick smeared across her chin and doesn't care who sees it.
"Indeed," Wanda agrees, turning another page. She sounds fond. She sounds like she's discussing something obvious. And the fact that they are discussing you right over your head, without acknowledging you as part of the conversation, only makes your pussy clench around Natasha's tongue.
Natasha pulls back just enough to circle your clit with the tip of her tongue, watching you the whole time, her jaw tight with hunger and possession, plain and unhidden.
Your eyes go to Wanda. You don't mean to but you do. Wanda looks up at exactly that moment. Her dark eyes find yours over the top of her book and hold them for just one second, and then she looks back down and turns the page.
Natasha seals her mouth over your clit and sucks like she has a point to prove.
Your whole body goes rigid, the restraints at your wrists going taut as you strain against them, and she gives you all of it immediately, two fingers driving into your pussy the second her mouth locks around your clit, curling hard against the spot that makes your thighs shake, her grip on your hip brutal, pulling you into every thrust of her own hand like she's using you exactly how she wants.
"Taste so fucking good," she growls against you, not stopping. "My little slut." She sucks harder, fingers not slowing. "My pretty little whore. Could stay right here all night, just like this, and you'd let me, wouldn't you? You'd cum on my face as many times as I wanted."
You are going to die. That is a real possibility. Your thighs are shaking around her head and your hips are rolling into her mouth, every sound coming out of you obscene. Wanda has just reached the end of her chapter and is moving on to the next one.
"So good for us," Wanda murmurs, distantly. "Isn't she, Natasha? Look at her shaking. She's about to cum all over your mouth and she hasn't even asked permission."
Natasha groans against your clit in agreement and the vibration of it, combined with her fingers curling one more time, tips you over completely.
You cum hardāhard enough that your whole body locks, that your back arches off the mattress, that the sound you make is more of a sob than anything elseāand Natasha does not stop. She works you through every wave with the same focused desperation she brought to all of it, her mouth not easing, her hands not releasing, taking every second of it until you're twitching, oversensitive, trying weakly to squirm away from a mouth that simply follows, that keeps licking through you slow and filthy even after you've got nothing left to give, until you're a whimpering, shuddering mess and she finally, finally lets up.
She stays pressed against you after, just breathing. Her mouth is still against your cunt, not moving now, her lips wet with you, her chin shining with it. It's like she needs a moment. Like this was as much for her as it was for you, which it absolutely was.
Then she drags herself back up your body.
She stops on the way, pressing her mouth to your hip. This one is not a bite, just a press of lips, reviewing the mark there. She does the same to your stomach, and then she's up and she's looking at your chest.
She is not satisfied.
You can see it. It's as clear as the bites on your body and the soaked patch on the bedsheets. She is looking at the marks going purple and red, and she is already thinking about what happens when they start to fade.
She nuzzles into your neck, kissing a trail up until she puts her mouth against your ear.
"When these go," she growls, teeth grazing your earlobe, "I'm putting new ones."
"Of course you will," Wanda says, turning a page, like this is simply the natural order of things, which it is. "And I'll help."
possessive nat going feral and biting you all over, Wanda sitting right next to you, reading a book and scolding you when you squirm too much.
āOh, hush now. Let Daddy have her fun, darling,ā she says, turning a page. Her magic is holding your wrists down, but sheās not even looking at you. Natasha is only looking at youāspecifically at the hickeys and bite marks all over your tits and stomach. She needs to leave more, she decides, so she crawls down your body and bites your hips. Then your thighs, inside each one. She does love how wet you get from this, practically dripping onto the sheets.
āNeedy little girl,ā she growls. Itās the only tone sheās capable of, deep growls full of her own desperation. She licks a long strip up your pussy, relishing in the way your hips jump up.
āShe always is, for us,ā Wanda muses, still not even looking. Her slender fingers flip another page. Your eyes flick between the two of themābetween Wandaās nonchalance and Natashaās feral eyes. Sheās looking right at you, meeting your gaze as she takes your clit into her mouth. Immediately, she sucks hard.
She pushes your thighs apart wider with a grip that leaves finger-shaped redness on your skin, just another way to mark you up.
And of course, in a few days when the marks start to fade, Natasha will do it all over again. And Wanda will only encourage her feral wife, and then sheāll add her own signature onto your body. After all, they need to make sure youāand everyone else who might see youāare constantly reminded of who owns your pretty body.
Summary: The image of Wanda and your mommy from the foster care facility are blurring into one. Even when you try to push Wanda away, you're drawn back in. With Natasha giving you a different kind of safety, will the lines keep twisting?
Word Count: 10.6k
Warnings: 18+, age gap, mommy kink, emerging daddy kink, heavy Freudian themes, pseudo-incest, dom/sub undertones, suggestive, making out, a little more emotional regression, angst and fluff, finding comfort in each other in a possibly unhealthy way, boundaries blurring, reader is kinda innocent
A/N: no idea how we got here, but hope you enjoy!
ā
You stare blankly ahead at the pond. It's a calm day with barely a ripple disrupting the surface. Sunlight glints off the water in bright, sharp intervals. Watching the ducklings follow their mother has become a common sight by now.
But today is different.
A male drake follows alongside her, occasionally nudging her side. The mother duck takes a sharp turn away, but the drake follows anyway. It makes your lips curve upward in a small smile. It reminds you of old television sitcoms where the husband character annoys the wife, walking away while he tries to joke around, desperately attempting to get her to lighten up.
You peer to your right, discreetly. You're sitting beside Natasha on the bench. Wanda is on the far side. Wanda has been glaring at Natasha since the moment you all sat down, while Natasha just gazes straight ahead, smirking to herself.
You suck in a deep breath, averting your eyes back to the pond. The ducklings continue to follow blindly, even as the mother continues to shun the drake. You tap your finger against your thigh, tryingāand failingāto ignore the suffocating, awkward atmosphere beside you.
I want to go home, you think to yourself.
You think back to last week in this exact spot. So many of your questions remained unanswered even now.
Natasha had released your hand but kept her gaze on you, scanning your face for something you couldn't decipher. The lack of malice in her expression was the only thing you could read. Your hand fell slowly to your lap while your thoughts raced. You looked up at Wanda with pleading eyes, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Why did she put you in this situation? Why didn't she tell you she's married? Why didn't you bother asking if she was in a relationship?
Guilt pressed down on you from all sides as Wanda opened and closed her mouth. You needed her to give you some kind of explanation. You weren't someone who would ever get between a relationship, and you weren't starting now.
"Wanda, let's go," Natasha called over her shoulder plainly, almost unbothered. She turned her gaze back to you, taking a step back. "See you next week."
She turned around with a smirk before you could get a word out, taking confident strides toward Wanda. Natasha grabbed her hand, pulling her down the path.
"Wait," Wanda breathed out, as if she were finally knocked out of her trance. But Natasha didn't let go, continuing down the path and forcing Wanda to follow her lead.
Wanda hadn't visited once throughout the week, and her absence didn't go unnoticed by you. During quiet moments, the swirling emotions sent your thoughts into exhausting loops. Your feelings were a volatile, conflicting mess that shifted constantly.
First came betrayal over the fact that she hadn't told you she was married. All those deep conversations, the touches that went far past conventional friendliness, and the quiet moments spent confiding in each other about the people you missed. You knew you hadn't mistaken them. So, had she just been playing with you?
Then came guilt over your position in all of this. It was a position you were unknowingly thrown into, yet you still bore the responsibility of it. You had reciprocated those touches. You even enjoyed them. The thought of spending time with Wanda while her wife sat at home, oblivious, ate at your conscience. You knew that Natasha knew about you, but did she know the extent of what was going on?
Finally, there was shame. Shame that you had forgotten Her in that moment and called another woman mommy. Continuing to meet with Wanda had resulted in exactly what you feared. You were starting to forget Her. You were replacing Her.
But most of all, you felt longing. All the emotions would swirl, muddying the waters, until the sediment finally settled and left you with the agonizing truth.
You missed Wanda, even through it all.
When you scored 98% on your assignment, you wanted to tell her, to hear her tell you what a wonderful job you did. When a rude customer tripped on the way out, you wanted to recount the story to her, just to hear that gentle, joyous laughter of hers ring out.
You had so many questions ready for when you saw her again. If you ever saw her again.
It wasn't until today, Friday, that you walked out after your shift ended and found her leaning against her car like always. Except she wasn't alone. Natasha stood right beside her, smiling the moment she noticed you and waving you over.
"Thought I'd join the hangout today. That's okay, right?" Natasha said, sending a smirk Wanda's way.
Wanda rolled her eyes before meeting yours with an apologetic smile. It only made more questions form, but your lips had moved on instinct.
"Yeah, of course," you said automatically, cringing at yourself internally. You really should've just made an excuse.
It's why you're sitting here now. Silence hanging heavy in the air for the past ten minutes.
Natasha shifts her left arm, the movement drawing your eyes to her wrist as she checks her watch. Her wedding band glints sharply in the sunlight. She glances at you suddenly, her green eyes shining as she nods, raising her eyebrows as if challenging you. You're about to ask her what she's trying to say when she finally speaks.
"Shall we grab dinner? There's a nice spot up the street, but it's quite a busy restaurant. Would you mind going ahead to grab a table, Wanda? It's the Italian one." Natasha doesn't turn to look at Wanda once, keeping her eyes locked on you the entire time.
"What?" Wanda says, her voice a mixture of confusion and annoyance. "Why can't we just go together?"
"Your baby here," Natasha starts, the unbothered smirk returning to her lips, "seems to want to watch the ducks for a little longer."
"Natasha, stoā"
"I do," you interject abruptly, cutting Wanda off. You know why Natasha is doing this. Frankly, you've been wanting to talk to her, too. To apologize. "Can Natasha and I stay for a little longer?"
You lean forward, craning your head past Natasha to look at Wanda pleadingly, your eyes wide. Wanda's expression softens immediately, the glare vanishing from her face. She stares at you, her lips pulling into a thin line before she parts them, preparing to speak. Your lower lip involuntarily juts out into a pout at the refusal written all over her face.
Wanda pauses. Her shoulders droop before she lets out a heavy sigh.
"Okay," she murmurs softly. "Just don't be too long, sweetheart."
Her face morphs into a gentle smile, as if she can't help herself. Then she turns her gaze to her wife, the warmth instantly draining from her eyes. "I mean it, Natasha."
Natasha leans back against the bench, chuckling to herself. "Okay, okay," she agrees, her tone easy.
Wanda rises from the bench, pausing in front of you. She reaches out, her fingertips brushing gently against your cheek, her thumb pressing against your lower lip. She gazes down at you, her eyes filling with an intense, consuming affection that you know isn't fully meant for you. It's for the ghost she sees in you. That distinct glimmer in Wanda's eyes that always appears whenever she's thinking or talking about the person she misses, present now. A satisfied smile touches her lips before her hand falls away from your face. She finally turns, walking slowly down the gravel path.
It's silent for a moment, save for the ambient chatter of people passing by the pond. You stare down at your jeans, picking at the loose seam on your right thigh before releasing a shaky breath. You twist your body slightly in Natasha's direction, letting your gaze rest on her face.
Her eyes aren't on you. Rather, they're glued to the ducklings gliding across the surface of the water. A faint, wry smile traces her lips. Her eyes swim with a complex storm of emotions.
"I'm so sorry. I really didn't knā"
"Wanda and I don't have any children," Natasha states abruptly. Her voice sounds distant, clouded with a sudden melancholy that makes your thoughts freeze.
She finally turns her head, shifting her focus to you. Now that you can see her eyes fully, you catch the fleeting glimpse of sadness swimming in them before she blinks, and it vanishes. A small smile appears on her face, but there's no joy in it.
"Do you know why?" she continues.
You try to scramble for an explanation, but you don't know nearly enough about Natasha, or the intricacies of their relationship, to form a real guess. The only thought that echoes in your head is that Wanda would make an incredible mother. So why wasn't she?
You shake your head, your voice dropping to a soft, unsure murmur as you respond. "No, I don't."
She huffs out a little laugh and lifts her hand. You feel the gentle weight of her palm settle on the top of your head, patting you softly.
"Don't worry, I wasn't expecting you to have an answer to that," she says lightly. She ruffles your hair a little with a teasing smile before letting her hand drop away.
The curve of her lips falls just as quickly, her expression turning distant as she looks up in thought.
"When our relationship started to become more serious years ago, I brought up having kids. It just felt like something we should talk about, you know?" she starts, keeping her tone light, though you can hear a subtle strain underneath. "But it felt like every time I brought it up, Wanda would change the subject. I figured maybe she just didn't have the heart to tell me she didn't want them."
Natasha smiles wryly to herself, her voice dropping into a quieter register.
"But then I'd catch her smiling to herself when we'd hear children laughing on our walks. The longing in her eyes whenever we'd see a little girl walking hand in hand with her mother. Then, one day, she looked like she was on the verge of tears after hearing a kid calling out for her mommy. I asked her to finally be honest with me."
Natasha pauses, her gaze fixing on the pond.
"She told me she already has a baby. Not by blood. Not even through papers. But through love. And that baby disappeared from her life one day. She said she couldn't bring herself to have another child... because that was her one and only precious baby."
Your heart clenches as more pieces of the puzzle click together. You know how it felt to never have gotten to say goodbye to your mommy. It must've been unbearable for Wanda.
"Wanda told me so much about her," Natasha murmurs. "The way she'd run up to Wanda and hug her leg to greet her. How she didn't talk much with other kids, but always let them play with the toys before she did. The little smile she'd have on her face when she'd point out shapes in the clouds."
Natasha smiles to herself. It's an expression you haven't seen on her before, lacking the mischievous quirk of her lips when she smirks or the complicated, unreadable emotions in her eyes. Instead, the affection in them is clear. It reminds you of Wanda when she's thinking about the person she missesāthe person you now know is the baby she never got to see again.
"I can see why Wanda refused to have any kids. That was her baby," Natasha pauses. "I wonder what kind of family we would've been," Natasha murmurs, the words just barely audible to you, as though she doesn't realize she's saying them out loud.
She finally turns back to you, a wave of understanding settling into her green eyes. "I can see why Wanda sees her in you."
Natasha scans your face, that pitying look from last week returning to her expression. "Wanda hadn't talked about her much for the past few years. It hurt too much. But after meeting you a few months ago, all that hope returned... but it's not good for her. And it's not good for you."
You look down at your jeans, the knowing look on Natasha's face becoming too much to handle. It feels like a spotlight is shining directly on the shameful feelings you've been harboring.
"You like Wanda."
It's not a question, but you respond anyway, your voice barely carrying. "Yes," you murmur, keeping your gaze low.
"Wanda likes you too," Natasha notes plainly.
You try to hide the way the discovery makes you feel, but your body betrays you. Your heart races against your ribs, a sudden wave of heat rushing up to your cheeks.
"You seem like a sweet kid. Maybe if the circumstances weren't what they are, things would be different."
The sudden, serious shift in her voice forces you to look up.
"Wanda is only interested in you because you remind her of her little girl," Natasha says, her tone leveling out into something sharp. "Seeing you keeps the memory of her alive in Wanda. But it'll only hurt her in the end. And you'll be hurt because you'll never be able to fully replace that baby."
Natasha stares at you, the warmth in her eyes turning hard, leaving no room for negotiation.
"If you want to make it up to me, because I know you've been wanting to apologize since we started this conversation, then distance yourself from Wanda."
Your gaze drifts upward, your eyes tracing the patterns of the clouds slowly drifting through the sky. Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth, the pressure of your teeth grounding you as your thoughts race.
The complicated relationship you have with Wanda was something you always knew would reach an end eventually. The baggage you both hold would only become more apparent. The twisted feelings you have for her would start to consume you. You were both projecting someone who wasn't there onto each other.
Hearing Natasha say it out loud, verbalizing the worries you've harbored from the very beginningāmakes the reality impossible to ignore, no matter how hard you've tried to bury it the entire time you've known Wanda.
But it's the confirmation that thisāthat youāwould ultimately hurt Wanda that makes the answer obvious.
You have to let go. Even if all you want to do is curl your fingers into Wanda's shirt and melt into her shoulder while she reads to you.
You nod slowly, forcing a small smile onto your face that doesn't come close to reaching your eyes.
"Okay," you whisper.
Your gaze drifts down when Natasha doesn't respond, trying to see if she even heard you. But she's already staring straight at you.
When she finally speaks, her voice is surprisingly soft, filled with a quiet layer of wonder that catches you off guard.
"Jeez," she starts, a short, breathy laugh escaping her lips. "I bet it's that expression that made it so Wanda couldn't keep away. It's exactly how I would've pictured her little girl looking up at the sky."
She shakes her head a little, her brow furrowing slightly as if she's trying to snap herself out of a spell and get her head on straight.
"Let's go," she says, pushing herself up from the bench and smoothing down her suit jacket. "Wanda's probably going crazy waiting for us at the restaurant. The least I can do is buy you a meal before we part ways."
She holds her hand out to you. The gesture reminds you of last week, but the pity in her eyes is absent, replaced by a quiet understanding that this is the right decision, even if it hurts. You reach out, clasping your hand in hers. A wave of gratitude washes over you because you know she's looking out for your heart, too. Maybe if you had let this drag on any further down the line, the ache would've been debilitating.
She pulls you up from the bench, and you both silently turn toward the path. She matches her pace perfectly with yours, refusing to rush even with your slow, lagging steps. You wonder if she can tell you're stalling, trying to stretch out the minutes before you have to say goodbye to Wanda.
You don't feel entirely present. A messy blur of memories, of Her and of Wanda, swirls together in your head until it feels exactly like the day you realized you were never going to see your mommy again.
You're about to take another step forward when Natasha's arm cuts across your path, stopping you dead in your tracks. Her forearm presses firmly against your stomach.
You blink, the sudden impact snapping you out of your head. You finally register that you're standing at the edge of a busy crosswalk, cars speeding by in front of you.
"Didn't your parents teach you to look both ways?" Natasha breathes out sternly, her brow furrowing as she looks at you.
"Iā" you start, the words trapping themselves in your throat. You don't want to lie to her, but you can't bring yourself to tell the truth, either. "I'm sorry," you finish lamely, dropping your gaze to stare down at the toes of your sneakers.
Natasha releases a heavy sigh. The rigid lines of her face soften. "No wonder she feels like she needs to take care of you."
Her hand slips easily into yours, her fingers clasping around your hand in a firm hold. "You go when I go, okay?"
Your eyes widen slightly at the contact, feeling the rough callouses on her palm brushing against your skin. It's such a vast difference from Wanda's soft, smooth fingers. But somehow, it feels just as nice. There's a strength in her presence that makes you feel like nothing can touch you as long as she's standing beside you.
You squeeze her hand lightly, a small, genuine grin finally breaking through. "Okay," you agree.
The pedestrian light snaps on, and the crowd of people around you begins to stream forward into the street. Natasha gives your hand a gentle tug, pulling you along. You walk in step with her, your eyes tracking a little girl and her father as they cross in front of you, hand in hand.
ā
You and Natasha pass by the large windowpane of the restaurant. You stop in place the moment you catch sight of Wanda through the glass. She's staring at the front door anxiously, her expression shifting from a tight glare to quiet worry.
"What's wrong?" Natasha asks gently when the sudden resistance of your clasped hands stops her from moving forward.
It's better to stop this now, you reason with yourself internally. You don't know what you'll do if you walk inside and Wanda tries to look into your eyes and convince you that this is okay.
You meet Natasha's vibrant, green eyes, forcing your lips to curve upward into a fragile grin. "I just remembered I have a few assignments to finish up. I think I should head back to my apartment now, before it gets too dark."
Natasha's eyes bore into yours. A complex array of unreadable emotions passes through them in a second before they finally soften into a kind gaze. Her hand rises, landing softly on the top of your head just like it did back at the park bench. She ruffles your hair with a rough, but gentle tussle.
"You're a good kid," she murmurs.
Her hand falls away from your head, moving much slower this time than it did before.
"Goodbye, Natasha," you say with finality. Your hand slips out of hers.
It feels like you're suddenly facing the world alone again.
"Goodbye, kid," she whispers back. The usual smooth raspiness in her voice cracks into something that almost sounds unsure.
But you're already turning around, forcing yourself down the pavement in the direction of the bus stop. You peer through the glass one last time as you pass by the front of the restaurant. Wanda is looking down at her wrist, her eyebrows furrowed as she checks the time.
You keep walking.
ā
You step into your small bedroom, the door clicking shut behind you. You race across the room and pull open the bottom desk drawer, your hands trembling as you gingerly lift out the stack of drawings and spread them across the wood.
You trace your fingertips over the faded, waxy lines. This is for the best, you tell yourself, desperate to stop the ache in your chest. Now you won't be replacing Her. Now you won't have to carry this suffocating guilt for wanting Wanda while constantly seeing Her through her eyes. Now your life can finally return to its mundane, quiet pace.
Your eyes stop on one of the drawings. It was a clumsy collaboration between the two of you. A picture of a family. You had drawn a wobbly stick figure that was meant to be Her while a smaller, neater stick figure stood beside Her. You. But you had added another stick figure on the other side of you, copying what you had seen in a picture book. A happy family.
She had been your family.
You slowly leaf through the rest of the drawings, letting the old memories replay. It isn't until you reach the very last sketch that it hits you.
You haven't been picturing your mommyās face at all. In every single memory of the playground, the swing sets, and the naptime room, it's Wanda's green eyes staring back at you.
ā
You brace yourself the moment you catch sight of Wanda walking through the grocery store doors in your peripheral vision. You immediately turn your face away right before she can meet your eyes, pretending to be absorbed in organizing the display of impulse buys in front of your register.
The weekend had passed in a blur. It feels like whenever you desperately need time to think, to process, or for the world to just slow down, the universe instinctively knows and spins the clock twice as fast.
When you and Her were separated, you had no options. You were far too young to have a choice, and being stripped away without seeing her one last timeāwithout at least getting to say a proper goodbyeāhad left a deep scar that you don't think will ever fully heal.
But with Wanda, things are different.
You're an adult now, and the choice to protect your own heart belongs entirely to you.
Natasha is right, you remind yourself, your pulse jumping as Wanda steps up to take her place behind another customer in your checkout line. This is for the best.
But somehow, even though you're the one actively making the choice to build this wall, the ache opening up in your chest feels identical to the day you were forced to leave Her behind.
You take a quiet breath, smoothing down the front of your apron.
"Next," you call out lightly.
Your heart clenches the moment Wanda steps in front of your register. She's wearing a soft, basic white tee. One you had confessed you liked the texture of against your cheek. The high-rise, straight-leg light blue jeans she paired it with give off the vibe of a classic mom outfit you've seen in magazines.
You drop your gaze low the second she smiles softly at you, immediately reaching for her items to begin scanning them.
"Hi, honey," she greets happily, her voice washing over you like a warm blanket. "Natasha told me you couldn't join us for dinner the other day because of assignments. Were you able to complete them?"
Your hand falters for a fraction of a second over a package of produce. Wanda was always so good about asking about your schoolwork without ever being pushy about it. Your adoptive parents had never bothered to ask. They didn't really expect anything from you.
You force yourself to draw a shallow breath, restarting the rhythmic beep of the scanner. You plaster a polite smile onto your face.
"Yes, I was."
You slide the last item across the glass scanner and look up, doing everything in your power to keep your expression neutral. "Did you bring a bag today, or do you need to purchase a paper one?"
Wanda's eyebrows furrow at your tone.
"I brought a bag," she says, her tone dipping into something unsure. She hesitates, leaning slightly over the counter. "Baby, can we talk after your shift? I have something important to talk to you about."
Baby.
You bite the inside of your mouth, but the sharp pain doesn't stop the old scar left behind by Her from tearing open at the corners. You reach your hand out across the register, and Wanda places her reusable bag into your palm, her eyes wide and clouding over with confusion.
"I'm sorry, I have a lot of things to take care of after this," you force out quickly. You carefully but rapidly load Wanda's groceries into the bag. You swipe the fresh receipt off the printer and drop it inside as well before lifting the bag and handing it back to her.
"Have a great rest of your day," you chirp out, trying to keep your voice light.
Wanda just stands there, staring at you, her eyes scanning your face, but you turn your head away.
"What about tomorrā"
"Next," you call out loudly to the next customer.
You immediately begin scanning the next customer's items. Wanda stands at the edge of your register for a long moment. Even without looking up, you can feel the burn of her gaze piercing straight into the side of your head.
She finally turns and walks away. Her steps are noticeably slower this time, the quiet squeak of her sneakers against the floor sounding hollow.
ā
You sigh, rolling your shoulders back to relieve some tension. You smooth down the front of your shirt and sling your bag over your shoulder, making your way toward the exit. But right before you can step onto the black mat that triggers the sliding glass doors, you spot Wanda.
She's leaning against the rear bumper of her car, her eyes cast low to her hands, which are clasped tightly in front of her. The corners of her lips are pulled downward, her shoulders drooping heavily.
She looks so alone.
Your mind slips back to a few weeks ago. You remember stepping outside into the parking lot, squinting against the blinding sunlight glinting off the rows of windshields. You had been exhausted, having barely slept a wink because of your roommates hosting people in the living room until the early hours of the morning.
Wanda's arms had suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, catching you off guard as she pulled you flush against her. Her hand came up to rest against the back of your head, gently guiding you down until your cheek was pressed flat against the soft curve of her breast.
Your cheeks had immediately started heating up, the tips of your ears burning. But something about her scent, the sound of her heartbeat in your ear, and the warmth of her body, made you stay still.
"My baby," Wanda had cooed, her breath brushing the crown of your head. "You worked so hard today."
You had let your cheek press even harder into her warmth, your hand automatically reaching up to tightly curl your fingers into the hem of her blouse. It felt like when you were six years old, scraping your knee on the asphalt after falling on the playground. Your mommy would race across the yard to scoop you up, cooing out soft praises to drown out your crying while gently wiping the dirt away with a damp cloth.
It always made everything better.
You're about to take a step forward, ready to race into Wanda's arms, when Natasha's voice rings in your head.
"But it'll only hurt her in the end. And you'll be hurt because you'll never be able to fully replace that baby."
You let your foot drop back down and spin on your heel, turning your back on the parking lot. You walk with purposeful steps to the back exit.
The hurt you and Wanda are feeling right now would pass eventually. Even if it feels like the scar is tearing further and further open.
ā
It stays like that for the next two weeks. It becomes an exhausting affair of cutting your conversations with Wanda short or walking away from the register altogether. On the days where there isn't another customer waiting behind her to call forward, you force yourself to invent random tasks that require you to leave your station. You tell her you're being summoned to the back by your manager, even when the register phone hasn't rung once.
And every single time your shift ends, you look out the front glass to see Wanda waiting outside, leaning against the rear bumper of her car exactly the way she always does when she's waiting for you.
She'll find someone else who reminds her of the little girl she lost, you try to convince yourself. Or maybe she'll actually find her baby.
A wave of shame washes over you when the thought of her finding her actual little girl fills you with a spike of anxiousness and jealousy. You had hoped these conflicting feelings would fade into the background as the days bled together, but they only seem to grow heavier, muddying your thoughts until you can barely think straight.
Memories of the past begin to play constantly in your head. Her pushing you on the playground swings. Sitting curled up in Her lap with your head pressed flat against her chest, listening to the thrum of her heartbeat before drifting into your afternoon nap. Her pressing a soft kiss to your forehead at nighttime to ward the bad dreams away.
But the memories are shifting. Your mommy's face blends and smears with Wanda's until the two women are completely indistinguishable.
It's why you're sitting here now. Back at the park bench in front of the pond, watching the ducklings trail behind their mother.
It isn't doing much to clear your head.
Today, one of the tiny ducklings has fallen far behind the rest of the line, struggling against the ripples. The mother duck hasn't noticed the widening gap, continuing to glide confidently ahead.
Your heart clenches painfully at the sight.
Go back, you plead with the mother duck mentally, your eyes boring into her as you grip the edge of the wooden bench. Turn around. You stare hard at her even though you know she can't hear you, and wouldn't understand anyway.
It's nearly empty at the park today. The only things audible to you are your own shallow breathing, the erratic loops of your thoughts, and the dry rustle of leaves shifting in the gentle breeze. Across the pond, the gap between the lone duckling and its family continues to widen. You clench the hem of your shirt, twisting the fabric into your fist until your knuckles turn white. It doesn't bring the same comfort you felt when you were holding onto Wanda's.
"Baby!"
You jump at the sudden sound, your head snapping around in the direction of the voice. Your heart begins to thud against your ribs at the familiar cadence.
Wanda is taking long strides to the bench, her breathing heavy and frantic. You've never seen her look this unraveled before. Her hair is disheveled, tossed about as though she had dragged her fingers through the strands repeatedly without bothering to smooth them back down. She's wearing that same soft white teeāthe one you told her you loved the texture ofābut the hem is tucked into her jeans haphazardly, half-in and half-out.
The dark shadows beneath her wide green eyes automatically make you bite your lower lip in worry.
"Wanā" you start, but you're abruptly cut off by Wanda hugging your head to her chest.
"My precious baby," she whispers, her voice breaking. She presses a kiss to the top of your head before continuing. "I've missed you so much. Did you not miss me?"
The desperation in her voice sounds exactly like every thought you've had since you distanced yourself. You know you should wiggle out of her grasp and leave, but the words slip past your lips anyway.
"I missed you too," you murmur shakily.
Her heart is beating frantically in your ear. You can almost feel the heavy pulsing of it against your cheek. She continues to hold your head tightly against her, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head every few seconds. Slowly, her breathing begins to even out, the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat steadying along with it.
Your shoulders drop and you unconsciously lean forward, shifting closer into Wanda's space. Your own pulse begins to calm down, your breathing naturally starting to match the pace of hers. It feels like sitting in your mommy's lap at the facility, about to fall asleep to the steady sound of her heart.
But suddenly, Wanda releases your head. Her hands fall down to frame your face, her palms caressing both of your cheeks gently. She tilts your head up, forcing you to meet her gaze.
She looks infinitely calmer than she did a minute ago. Her hair is still disheveled, but her eyes are bright.
"I knew I'd find you one day," she says, her voice dropping into soft, quiet adoration. "My precious baby."
She strokes your cheekbone with her thumb. You freeze, waiting for the moment her expression will shift, waiting for that familiar look where she starts staring through you at the ghost she's truly directing that love toward.
But she doesn't. This time, it's different. Her focus never wavers.
She's looking straight at you.
"Wanda," you start, your voice tightening uneasily. "I don't think we should keep meetā"
"Mommy," she interrupts suddenly, her tone dropping all the softness. "You mean mommy."
Your breath hitches. The guilt you've been harboring for weeks begins to eat at you all over again. The sickening realization that you've been forgetting Her face and replacing it with Wanda's.
"I-I shouldn't have called you that, that one time," you stutter, trying to pull back against her palms. "Natasha's right. This isn't good for either of us."
Wanda scoffs without a hint of humor. "Natasha doesn't believe me. I told her that it's you. I know it," she says, her voice turning breathless. "I should've known from the very moment I saw you at the store. You could've been in my arms months ago. You're my precious baā"
"Wanda," Natasha calls out sharply from right behind her.
You shift your eyes over Wanda's shoulder, just barely catching sight of Natasha. She looks like she just got off work, wearing a navy button-up and black slacks. But it's the sharp glare she's sending at Wanda's back that makes you shiver.
Wanda sighs heavily, rolling her eyes but stubbornly refusing to turn around.
"Wanda," Natasha repeats, her voice dropping coldly. "What you're doing isn't right. She's just a kid. Stop projecting onto her. It isn't fair to her, and it isn't fair to yourself."
Wanda finally turns around, keeping one hand firmly on your cheek while she points the index finger of her other hand at Natasha. "It'd be projecting if it wasn't her. But it is, Natasha."
"Because she said 'bye bye, mommy' to you?" Natasha asks, her tone flat and unimpressed. "I know that's what your little girl used to say, Wanda. But have you considered that maybe you trying to act like her mom all this time might have confused her?"
Wanda's hand finally drops from your cheek. You can see her eyes flashing with anger right before she takes a step toward Natasha.
"Moya lyubov," Natasha says suddenly. Her voice drops unusually low, filling with emotion that catches you off guard. "I would love if she's ourāyour baby. But you need to stop letting your emotions cloud your judgment."
"My judgment is not clouded, Natalia," Wanda hisses out. "She's my baby. The same baby that would sit in my lap and look up at the sky with wide eyes. The baby that would tug on the hem of my shirt to get my attention because she was so little. My little girl that would look for me when her shoes were untied. My precious baby that was taken from me at that facility, the one I didn't get to say goodbye to. I'm not letting anyone take her away from me again."
It feels like time has stopped. With every sentence that leaves Wanda's lips, the memories replay in flashes. Quiet afternoons spent sitting in your mommy's lap while she traced shapes in the clouds with her finger. The habit you developed of reaching out to tightly curl your fingers into her shirt so she would pay attention to you. Her crouching down on the floor, smiling up at you as she took your tiny shoes in her hands to tie them.
Facility. The word echoes loudly in your head. It's too specific.
You can barely hear the two of them arguing anymore over the sound of your loud, racing thoughts. It feels like it takes an eternity before you finally manage to refocus your vision.
Your gaze immediately falls back on Wanda. She's standing right in Natasha's face, while Natasha stares down at her with a hard, unyielding expression.
"Are you trying to hurt me, Natalia? If so, thenā"
"Do you still have the drawings?" you ask, your voice surprisingly clear.
Wanda stops shouting instantly. She snaps her head around, turning to face you with wide, hopeful eyes.
Inside your heart, you know it's her. Your mommy. But a part of youāthe part that had to let her go and live with the ache for fourteen yearsāneeds the confirmation. You need to see them with your own eyes. For your head to agree with your heart.
"Of course," Wanda breathes out, her voice trembling. "I would never get rid of them."
"Can I see them?" you ask shakily.
Wanda shifts her gaze over to Natasha. It feels like the tension between them has evaporated. Natashaās mouth is slightly agape, her eyes unreadable as she squints at you.
"They're at our home," Wanda says slowly, turning her focus back to your face. Over her shoulder, you see Natasha give a tight nod. "Are you okay with coming home with us?"
You nod immediately, your gaze unwavering.
You have no idea how you'll actually feel after seeing those papers. There's so many things to address. So many complicated feelings to examine.
But right now, you just need to know with certainty that it's her.
"Okay," Natasha says, her tone dropping into a flat, unreadable register. "Let's go then. The car is parked nearby."
Your eyes drift out across the pond one last time as you push yourself up from the bench.
The mother duck had finally gone back for her struggling duckling. The drake is right there beside her, too. The little duckling is swimming perfectly sandwiched between the two of them.
ā
You're sitting at their dining room table. Natasha sits at the head of the table while you sit directly beside her. You can feel her staring at the side of your face, but it feels like you're stuck inside your own head.
The drive to their house had felt like a blur. You want to feel excited. You know you probably should be. But what about the romantic feelings you harbor toward Wanda?
The lines have all become twisted now, far more than they ever were before.
What scares you most is the weird sense of calm settling over you with that realization. Wanda was the first person to teach you about love. The first hug. The first kiss, even if it wasn't on the lips. It feels almost fitting that she's also your first romantic love, even if you know the lines blurring between Wanda being your mommy and just Wanda, the adult woman, is wrong.
You hear the rustling of papers and suddenly Wanda is sitting in front of you on the other side of Natasha. She sets the stack of papers between you, before fanning them out gingerly. You suck in a deep breath, your hand reaching out. Your fingertips trace the waxy lines and it's like you can see the day you drew them with her.
The yellow of the sun mixed with random blacks and browns that you could never get out of the point of the crayon brings you back to the sunny day you drew it. She always liked having you in her lap even on hot days. She'd hold your hands in front of you, narrating her day while moving them.
It's like you can hear her voice clearer now in those memories. Wanda's voice.
Your eyes drag across the array of drawings. Sometimes it was just playing tic-tac-toe. Sometimes a drawing of what you did together that day. One of them is just you, beaming at her. Wanda. Your mommy.
Your gaze lands on the last drawing. It's closest to Natasha. Her fingertips are tracing one of the figures in it. It's a simple drawing. A stick figure of you and Wanda. But on the other side of you is another wobbly person. It reminds you of the drawing you have back at your apartment, but this one is slightly different. You read your messy handwriting.
Mommy+Me+Daddy
A complete family. You realize now that there's no such thing as a truly perfect version of one, but back then, it was what you thought you wanted more than anything.
You hear Natasha suck in a breath before the sharp sound of her chair scraping against the floor breaks the quiet.
"I have some things from work that I need to look at," she states, her posture stiffening. "You two should talk."
She's already turning on her heel and walking away before either of you get a chance to say a word.
You stare at her empty chair, a strange part of you wishing she had stayed, even though you barely know her.
"You knowā¦" Wanda starts quietly, drawing your focus back across the table. "I would stare at these drawings all the time whenever I missed you. Which was every single day." She lets out a small, watery chuckle, moving her gaze from the papers to lock onto your face.
Her eyes are shining with tears, the edges of her face suddenly becoming slightly blurry.
You blink, realizing it's your own eyes welling up that are making her image distort.
"I got a 98 on my assignment a few weeks ago," you whisper. You finally get to tell her.
A wide, radiant smile stretches across her face. "That's amazing, baby!" she praises with excitement. "You were always a little genius."
Sparks of happiness bloom through your chest at the words you've been wanting to hear since you first received that grade. It makes your next thought slip past your lips without hesitation.
"A-And I missed you all this time," you admit, your voice dropping into something wobbly and small.
For the past few weeks, the last fourteen years, every time she would have to go home after you fell asleep at bedtime.
Wanda reaches her hand across the table, her thumb gently brushing your tears away even as a fresh wave continues to fall. The touch reminds you of all the times she would crouch down on the floor after you had a bad dream or fell on the playground, smiling softly at you while wiping your cheeks. Exactly like she's doing right now.
"I bet I missed you more," Wanda says, her tone morphing into an almost teasing register, though you can hear the truth bleeding through it.
You shake your head, opening your mouth ready to quip back, but Wanda gently shushes you, her eyes shifting down to check the watch resting on her left wrist.
"We'll talk more tomorrow, but I think it's about time that you go to bed. You discovered a lot of big things today," she says, her voice raising a pitch.
You agree blindly, nodding at her words without checking the time yourself. Your eyes are already starting to droop, the weight of all the emotions and discoveries of the day having exhausted you.
Wanda's hand drops from your cheek. She holds it out in front of you instead, and your hand slips into hers automatically. She lists out a few different articles of clothing that you can borrow while she walks you down the long hallways, her fingers tightly intertwined with yours.
It doesn't occur to you that she never actually asked if you wanted to stay over. Or that you could have easily just followed behind her without her holding your hand.
ā
You step into the bedroom Wanda leads you into, the fresh clothes she lent you loose against your body. The long sleeves of Natasha's oversized t-shirt fall past your elbows, the hem swallowing the sleep shorts Wanda lent you. You blink slowly, trying to map out the contours of the unfamiliar space. The room is only lit by a nightlight plugged into the baseboard near the bed, casting a dim, yellow glow across the sheets.
Your eyes are drawn to a bright, yellow duckling plushie propped against the pillows. Half of its fuzzy body is covered by the comforter, carefully tucked in.
Wanda walks you over to the side of the bed. She pulls the covers open, waiting for you to slip inside, her fingers still securely laced with yours even as she adjusts the blankets over your chest. You lift your free arm out from beneath the covers, your fingers gently holding the duckling's wing, the soft material warming your palm.
Wanda kneels beside the mattress. She rests her elbow on top of the covers, propping her chin in her hand.
"I bought that for you a long time ago," she says, keeping her voice low and soft. "It was supposed to be a birthday present, but you were gone before I could give it to you."
You feel her fingers squeeze your hand a little tighter.
"But now you're here." Her voice shifts, raising into that higher, melodic pitch. "Mommy will make sure we always get to stay together from now on."
Is this okay? you question to yourself tiredly. The rational part of your brain knows you need to talk to her about this. About the romantic feelings you have for her. But exhaustion washes over you.
You can sort things out with Wanda in the morning.
Wanda leans forward, her face hovering over yours. You close your eyes automatically, ready for the gentle forehead kiss she always gave you to ward the bad dreams away.
But instead of pressure against your forehead, you feel something soft press flat against your lips.
Your eyes snap open at the sensation, your gaze dropping down to see Wanda's lips flush against yours. You gasp at the sight, but instead of moving away, you freeze as Wanda's tongue slips easily past your lips.
Her tongue explores your mouth before dragging the tip of it against yours. Your face flushes instantly at the feeling, your breaths becoming ragged.
You've never done anything like this before. You know you should feel ashamed for accepting it, but instead of the guilt burning through you, a sudden heat begins to pool in your lower stomach.
Wanda tilts your chin up, forcing your mouth to open wider. She coaxes your tongue to move, stroking hers against yours with intoxicating pressure. You try to press back clumsily, attempting to copy what she's doing, but Wanda takes control. Every time you try to press down, she easily slips her way out, winning the strange game of wrestling taking place between your lips.
Saliva begins to drool down the side of your mouth slowly. Wanda presses her upper body flush against yours, your breasts squishing against her larger one through the thin fabric of Natasha's shirt. You squirm beneath her weight, an uncomfortable stickiness beginning to build in your panties.
Wanda lets out a low chuckle against your lips. "You're so messy, baby," she murmurs.
You flush, thinking she's noticed, but instead she leans back slightly. She wipes away the stray saliva with the pad of her thumb. She licks it away, staring down at you with dark, blown-out pupils. But despite the heat radiating off her, her expression holds that same soft smile she used to give you right before she said goodnight at the facility.
You stare up at her hazily, your lips tingling and swollen from the force of the kiss. You hear her groan quietly, her teeth biting into her own lower lip. She leans forward again, giving you a quick, firm peck.
"Don't look at me like that, sweetie. I won't know when to stop." Her warm palm caresses your cheek one last time, her eyes softening. "I just had to give a goodnight kiss to my precious baby," she whispers.
Before you can even try to form a coherent thought, her fingers slide away and she's standing up by the side of the bed.
"Sleep tight," she says in a sing-song tone before closing the bedroom door behind her.
Your breathing is still ragged, your heart threatening to beat straight out of your chest. Your head feels empty, as if Wanda had managed to kiss every single thought out of your brain. You turn your head slightly, catching sight of the glowing digital clock on the bedside table.
It's 9:35 PM.
It's much earlier than you would ever normally go to sleep. You try to remember the last time you were actually in bed at this hour. The image of your bedroom at the facility flashes through your head.
It was the mandatory bedtime there.
You tightly squeeze your thighs together, desperately trying to ignore the shameful, sticky ache pooling between them.
ā
You wake to the distant, muffled sounds of metal clanking together. Your eyes open slowly, blinking blearily against the bright morning rays cutting through the curtains of the window. You shift slightly beneath the covers, feeling something soft and fuzzy resting in your arms.
Your eyes drift down lazily, finding the yellow duckling plushie safely cradled against your chest.
You blink again. Your vision clears, and your eyes widen as the entirety of yesterday begins to replay in flashes.
Wanda showing up at the park. Her unraveled, disheveled state. Natasha appearing on the path. The two of them arguing. The memories of the facility crashing back. The crayon drawings spread across the dining room table. This duckling.
Wanda kissing you on the lips, sliding her tongue into your mouth.
You sit up abruptly in the bed, your heart hammering against your ribs as you hug the duckling plushie even tighter against your chest.
Wandaāyour mommyāhad kissed you. And you had liked it.
You bury your face into the duckling plushie, its soft, fuzzy material barely doing anything to comfort the rising panic.
"What's wrong with you?" you whisper into the fabric.
Shame creeps through your body, making you cringe inward. This isn't right, you tell yourself internally. The lines were blurring until you could barely see them anymore. But deep down, you know the truth.
They were probably blurred from the very moment you met Wanda at the register. The moment you saw your mommy in her.
You throw the covers off your body and clamber out of the bed. The cold wooden floor bleeds through the soles of your bare feet, but you press forward anyway, cracking the bedroom door open and creeping outside into the hallway.
You follow the sound of clanking metal. Somehow, the sound feels like a beacon of clarity. And you need clarity more than anything else right now.
It's only when you finally reach the door the muffled sounds are echoing from, that your gaze drops down. You're still carrying the yellow duckling plushie, its fuzzy wing tightly pinched between your trembling fingers.
You pull the handle of the door down slowly, cracking it open just enough for you to slip through the gap. Immediately, you're hit with the bright light of the sunlit garage. The main door is raised, a sleek, old-school car parked right at the opening with its hood popped open. You can just barely see Natasha's profile as she leans deep over the engine bay.
You breathe out a quiet sigh of relief, that weird feeling of protection you feel around her returning.
You take quiet, careful steps forward, maneuvering around the power tools scattered across the large concrete space until Natasha comes fully into view. Her hair is tied tightly back so the strands don't get in her way while she works. She's wearing a plain white tank top accompanied by a dark pair of blue jeans. Both the fabric and her bare skin are marked with black streaks of grease, her hands coated in it as well.
It's reminiscent of Wanda's outfit yesterday, but it holds a different kind of feeling.
She doesn't even blink when you approach, quietly sinking down to sit on the concrete right next to the toolbox at her feet.
You place your duckling in your lap, squeezing it's wings between your fingers as you tilt your head up to watch Natasha work. With every minute that passes between the quiet clanging and Natasha's steady breaths, your thoughts begin to calm.
You look down at the duckling, flapping its wings slowly to build up some courage.
"It's not normalā¦ the relationship between me and Wanda, is it?" you mumble so quietly, you think Natasha probably didn't hear it.
But Natasha turns her head toward you, a bead of sweat on the bridge of her nose and a fresh streak of motor oil across her cheek. She looks down at you sitting by her feet and gives you a small smirk.
"What's even considered normal anymore?"
"I-I mean," you start, your voice trailing off as you struggle to find the right words. You release a breath, your shoulders dropping. How can you explain a relationship to someone else when you haven't even figured it out yourself?
Instead, your mind shifts to the other issue at hand.
"But you guys are married," you state. You can hear all the unsureness and anxiety you're harboring inside bleeding through your voice.
"We are," Natasha responds in that same nonchalant, steady tone.
You bite your bottom lip, gnawing lightly on the skin as you try to force up enough courage to ask the real questions screaming in your head.
How are you so calm about this? Are you actually okay with this? Your wife kissed me last night.
"Don't get me wrong," she starts, turning her focus back to the engine. "I love Wanda more than anything in this world. We've been together through our absolute lows and our highs." She pauses, screwing a heavy bolt into place.
You nervously shift your arm against your knee when the long sleeve of her oversized t-shirt slips down, impeding your movements.
Natasha pauses what she's doing. She slowly wipes her grease-stained hands on the towel hanging off the edge of the open hood. Suddenly, she drops down to crouch in front of you. She reaches her hands out and takes your wrist, beginning to carefully fold the sleeves up your arms.
Her voice is remarkably soft when she finally speaks. "Wanda loves you. And I can tell you love her. It's not the most conventional kind of love," she starts, continuing to hold onto your wrists even after she finishes folding your sleeves up.
She meets your eyes. The tenderness swimming in her gaze makes you pause.
"I imagine you're curious what my thoughts are on all of this."
You nod slowly. Her brows furrow unsurely.
"I never thought I needed a family outside of Wanda," she says quietly, her thumbs resting against your pulse points. "But then she told me about her little girl, and I couldn't help but imagine what our life would look like with her in it. As for the other feelingsā¦"
She trails off, the sentence hanging heavy in the air. She finally releases your wrists and pushes herself up, standing to her full height.
She looks down at you from above, a complex mix of emotions swirling in her steady stare.
"I'm not sure yet."
You nod quietly to yourself. Her answer makes sense.
She moves back toward the open engine bay, reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone.
"Wanda says to go inside. She made breakfast. I'll eat after I finish this." She tilts her head back down to face you, a small, knowing grin tugging at her lips. "I texted her the moment you cracked that door open. Told her we were having daā"
She cuts herself off suddenly, clearing her throat before continuing.
"Time together," she says. "She'd be worried sick if she walked into your room and found you missing."
Your cheeks instantly heat up. You hadn't been as sneaky as you thought you were.
After opening up to Natasha, the panic from when you first woke up feels distant now. The thought of going inside to see Wanda sends a flutter of warmth through your chest.
You reach your hand out, your fingers gently tugging on the fabric of Natasha's jeans.
You look straight up at her with wide eyes. "Canā¦ can we do this again?" you murmur, your voice small and hopeful.
Natasha stares down at you, her eyes softening the longer she takes you in.
"That's not fair," she murmurs quietly to herself. She clears her throat, her teasing smirk quickly returning to her lips. "You're going to have to learn about the tools next time if you want to be a proper helper."
You nod excitedly, beaming up at her before finally releasing her jeans from your grip. You stand up from the floor, holding the duckling's fuzzy wing in your hand while you stretch your tight muscles with a small groan.
"Go on now," Natasha laughs softly, her eyes dropping back down toward the car engine. "Wanda's waiting for you, little girl."
You take a step forward toward the house door, but you turn your head back just to catch sight of her one last time before leaving. Her eyes are bright, a gentle smile on her lips.
ā
You retrace your steps from last night, navigating the unfamiliar hallways. The quiet sound of Wanda's soft humming guides you whenever you take a wrong turn, drawing you forward.
You peek around the corner of the hallway, Wanda's back coming into view. She's wearing a pair of simple black leggings paired with a soft-looking brown sweater, the yellow strings of an apron tied into a neat bow around her waist. She walks easily around the vast kitchen, barely even having to scan the counters to find what she needs, as though she's done this a million times before.
It feelsā¦ domestic.
It's a feeling you never experienced during your childhood, your adoptive parents always defaulting to leaving cash on the kitchen island for you to buy your own food for the day. Around Wanda, it feels like the morning sunlight streaming through the windows is somehow brighter, warmer.
She turns around suddenly, spotting you immediately just like she used to do whenever she arrived at the foster care facility. Her eyes brighten instantly, a joyous smile pulling at her cheeks.
"Good morning, baby," she calls out in that sweet, sing-song voice. She waves you over toward the counter. "Come here and pick out what you want for breakfast. I made a variety since your tastes may have changed."
You step around the corner, the duckling plushie swinging loosely in your hand. But instead of stopping in front of the bowl of cut fruit or the plate of sandwiches, you walk straight into Wanda, bumping into her.
Wanda's arms immediately wrap around you, her warm hand stroking the back of your head. "Is something wrong, sweet girl? Did you not have a good talk with Natasha?" she asks, a gentle lilt of concern entering her tone.
You shake your head, your cheeks swishing against the fabric of Wanda's apron. You tilt your chin up, looking up at her with wide, confused eyes.
"Iā¦ I feel like it's wrong to like you in this way. In both ways," you start, your voice trailing off unsurely. "I-I've never kissed anyone before, and I don't know if the way I reacted last night is normal."
You pause. Your cheeks instantly blaze with heat at what you just admitted out loud. "Umā" you start, desperately trying to change the subject.
"Soā¦ I was your first kiss?" Wanda whispers. You catch the familiar glint of guilt in her eyes like when she first traced your lip.
You nod shyly, looking down at the floor as the tips of your ears burn with embarrassment.
Wanda's hand gently cups your jaw, her fingers tilting your chin back up. Her pupils are dark and dilated as she looks down at your face, the affection in them unmistakable.
"I don't think it's wrong," she says, moving her face closer and closer until you can feel the warm ghost of her breath against your lips. "Mommy loves you so much, and that love grew into something more. Isn't that a good thing?"
Your mind goes blank for a moment.
Is that right? you think to yourself. It sounds convincing, but your conscience still wavers. Wanda's lips move even closer to yours, the sweet scent of flowers washing heavily over your senses and making your head turn fuzzy.
"I-I guess it's a good thing," you murmur, your voice wobbly and small.
She presses her soft lips firmly against yours, making your heart flutter uncontrollably. Her fingers hold your jaw a little tighter, angling your chin until it's just right for her. You hold the plush wing of your duckling tighter in your fist, your free hand rising to find the hem of Wanda's sweater, tightly curling the fabric around your fingers when it feels like you're almost out of breath.
Wanda finally leans back, her lips parting from yours with a quiet pop. She smiles gently down at you. Her expression is so different from the hungry, desperate way she just kissed you, making your head spin.
"Ready for breakfast now, sweetheart? Natasha will join us in just a bit."
You nod slowly, the complicated, racing thoughts you've had all morning suddenly vanishing from your mind. "Yes, Wanda," you respond softly.
Wanda gazes down at you with a hopeful expression, her head tilted slightly as if she's waiting for something.
"Yesā¦ mommy," you blurt out quickly, the tips of your ears burning all over again.
She beams at you, affectionately stroking your cheek one last time before turning back to the stove, where sausages and eggs are sizzling in pans. She begins listing out all the different things you can eat, while you glance down at the yellow duckling in your hand. You bring the plushie up, wrapping both of your arms tightly around its fuzzy body and squishing it against your chest.
The idea of calling Wanda mommy had sent pangs of guilt and shame through you. But actually saying the word out loud to her now, you feel the guilt lessen a fraction.
Wanda turns back to you suddenly, her green eyes sparkling with joy.
"Welcome home, my precious baby."
ā
A/N: i actually enjoy writing for this AU quite a bit. expect to see reader calling wanda mommy on her own and wanda going feral over it, daddy daughter date with natasha in which they get closer, perhaps wandanat meeting reader's adoptive parents. let me know if you have any other ideas. thanks for reading!
Warnings / Tags : (18 +) age gap, pervy!Baran (Baran catches reader changing, staring at her cleavage etc.), nipple play (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), mirror sex
Notes : okay yes this is more of a drabble than headcanons. i donāt give a gaf im calling it what i wantā¦
also picturing Baran w/ this vibe for all of this bc itās summer:
Mom's friend!Baran who nurses a bloody mary for an hour at least while standing on your familyās back patio, watching her son run around with one of your Auntās kids. It's a warm summer day, with the smell of hot dogs and burgers wafting over to where a group of your family friends stands around your porch. Sheās smiling softly, watching the kids fill up water guns to spray each other withā¦ when she hears everyone greeting someone new. She turns slowly, expecting another one of your momās friends to walk through the door. Her eyes widen when she sees this young, maybe college-age girl with a bright smile, short denim shorts and a tank top, bikini peeking out, walking out. And, god, youāre absolutely fucking gorgeous. Baran is never one to stareā¦ but she canāt take her eyes off of you.
Mom's friend!Baran who actually has to pause when she sees your mom stand up, giving you a big hug, saying;
āIām so glad you could make it, honey. Say hi to everyone.ā
Honey. Oh shit. Her daughter. Baran swallows hard, looking down at the bloody mary as she straightens up. She cannot be thinking about her best friendās daughter that way. Sheās literally old enough to be your mom. Her head only snaps up when she realizes your mom is doing introductions.
āAnd this is Baran. She's a doctor!ā
Baran manages a smile.
āItās nice to meet you.ā She musters, voice sounding a little more tense than normal. When you give her a sweet smile back and wave, she gives a tight lipped smile and, all of a sudden, starts chugging her bloody mary like itās her lifeline.
Mom's friend!Baran who canāt take her eyes off you all day. While youāre talking about your studies, sheās listening ardently, as if youāre recounting the story of some big adventure. Youāre smart. It makes it only that much harder for Baran to keep herself in check.
Mom's friend!Baran who spots you with her son while all of your momās friends are busy chatting about the coming school year. She just sees you hitting around a volleyballā¦ but god. Itās unfair how good you look, laughing, body slick with a thin layer of sweat from the hot sun, running around with her son like itās the most natural thing in the world. Her thoughts are muddled, a terrible mix of desire and this unbearable feeling of domesticity. Then you bend overāass up, cleavage on full display, trying to keep the ball from hitting the ground. Baran nearly lets out a stupidly desperate moan.
āBaran? Hey, everything alright?ā
One of your momās other friends snaps her out of the trance she was in, causing her to remember where she is. Who sheās with.
āYeah. Fine. Justā¦ thinking about the school year.ā
Her answer prompts an immediate conversation with the group about back-to-school shopping. Baran lets out a small sigh of relief and turns her chair fully away from where youāre still laughing and hitting that ball around with her son.
Mom's friend!Baran who ends up getting in a one-on-one conversation with you and struggles to focus. Her eyes keep flicking down to your cleavage. She feels guilty every time. She knows youāre just some college studentāyoung, inexperiencedā¦ but the thought flashes through her head that you being younger than her might just be part of her being so attracted to you. She shakes the thought away immediately. Everything about you just distracts her.
After Baranās bloody maryā¦ and another hard soda and a half, she actually gets the confidence to act on a silly, stupid impulse.
āYouāve got somethingā¦ā She reaches forward, brushing away a stray leaf that had fallen into your hair, and tucking a loose curl behind your ear. She catches, for a flash of a second, a warm flush on your cheeks while you smile and thank her. Baran swallows hard, eyes flickering down to your lips for the briefest of moments. She considers leaning in and kissing you at that moment. Ultimately, she does however realize how stupid that would be, so she drops her hands, pulls her eyes back up to yours and smiles softly.
Mom's friend!Baran who helps settle her son in with the other kids for a movie as the afternoon goes on. The sun is at its highest now, beating down on the patio, warming even the shaded spots. When Baran emerges, she sees your momās other friends around the table, sharing Pittsburgh gossipā¦ and you. Top off, shorts dangling on the side of the lounge chair, clad in just a small, butter yellow bikini. She doesnāt mean to be a total pervert, but she nearly salivates when she sees the bikini thatās been peeking out under your clothes all day. Sheās just about to scold herself internally and go back over to the other moms when she sees you applying sunscreen. She runs a hand through her curls, considering what sheās gonna doā¦ and, on an impulse, walks right over to you.
āItās good to see that some people your age still know how to use sunscreen.ā
She remarks as she steps over to you, adjusting her dark red tank top.
āI could help you put it onā¦ if youād like?ā
You practically beam up at her.
āThat would be amazing. I canāt reach my back at all.ā
You hand her the sunscreen bottle, adjusting yourself on the lounge chair so your back is to her. Baranās eyes flicker to the curve of your ass. She needs to get a grip.
āItās no problem.ā
She takes a seat on the side of the chair, squirting the sunscreen into her hand. When her fingers make contact with your warm, soft skin, she nearly moans again. Her hands start slowly gliding up your back, spreading the protective layer with gentle pressure, taking in the opportunity to feel as much of your soft skin as possible. Your shoulders relax when her hands press carefully into the muscles of your upper backāmassaging with the careful steadiness of someone who knows exactly what sheās doing, someone who knows the human body like the back of her hand. The soft noise that escapes your lips, just because of how good she can make something as simple as this feel, makes Baran tense. If she had any self control, sheād finish this up quickly and go back to talking with your mom. Instead, she continues, hands gliding down, to your lower back, lower, over your assāalthough you can feel how her touch lightens over the sensitive area, careful to not go farāand down to your thighs. She falters again, hands involuntarily squeezing the plush, soft skin there. Her cheeks flush when she realizes what she did. Her hands linger for a moment, unable to pull away. It takes a whole lot of self control for her to finish spreading the sunscreen down your legs and finally put some distance between you two.
āThere.ā Baran clears her throat, giving you a tight, small smile as she stands. Her hands nervously rub against her thighs. āIā¦ I should go.ā
Mom's friend!Baran who just keeps turning to watch you sunbathing every few minutes. She can imagine your skin getting warmer, how it would feel to wrap her arms around you, nuzzle her face into your thighsā¦ she canāt get the thought out of her head.
Mom's friend!Baran who considers following you inside when she sees you get up and wave to everyone, saying that youāre gonna go shower to cool off a bit. Instead she just waves, making eye contact with you for a moment. A very long, drawn out moment. She watches your smile as you look at herā¦ then turn to just go inside.
Mom's friend!Baran who only comes back inside when the sun is setting, letting her little infatuation with you go for now. She asks your mom for directions to the bathroom as she stands, adjusting that tank top again.
āThereās one upstairs, second door to the left.ā
She explains, receiving a hum and soft smile from Baran.
Baran wanders back in and takes a moment to look at her sonānow playing with some of his dinosaur toysāin the living room. Her expression softens before she heads upstairs.
As she steps onto the second floor, she pauses. Crap. What did your mom say again? First door to the right? Or was it the third? Maybe the second door to theā¦ left? Yeah. That mustāve been it. She steps over and opens the door without a second thought.
Oh fuck. Standing there is you, wearing absolutely nothing, clasping your bra in the mirror. Definitely not a bathroom. This is your bedroom from before you left for collegeā¦ where youāre stayingā¦ and where youāre currently changing with wet hair while standing in front of the mirror.
Mom's friend!Baran who can only muster up a soft āOh.ā upon seeing you. She justā¦ stands there, dark brown eyes wide and hand gripping the doorframe too tightly. You turn quickly, bra in hand, eyes going wide. Baranās cheeks flush.
āIām so sorry, I shouldnātāā
āWait.ā You stop her before she turns to leave the room. You bite your lip and Baran has the urge to pull it away so she can do it instead. āIā¦ I need help clasping this anyway. Can youā¦?ā You come up with a half-assed excuse. Baran blinks a few times, mouth openingā¦ then closingā¦ then opening again. She has no clue what to say.
Baran just nods fervently. She steps into the room, letting the door swing shut behind her. Her hands hover in front of her as she approaches, eyes on yours like sheās waiting for permission to touch you. Her hands land slowly, carefully on your hips, gently tugging you close to her.
āTurn around.ā
She instructs softly. Even now, it sounds like sheās holding back. Even when sheās getting the confidence to guide you, to place her hands on your hips and turn you towards your mirror to get a better look at you, sheās careful and somehow steady.
Mom's friend!Baran who stares at you in the mirror while her hands roam over your bodyāstarting from your hips, moving up until she finally gets to the lace of your bra. She could be helpful and clasp it, let this go and act somewhat normal. But she sees your breathing get heavier when her hands move over the laceā¦ so she instead slides her fingers under, gently guiding the fabric down, straps down your arms until youāre left bare in front of her.
Mom's friend!Baran whose curly hair tickles your skin as her hands move up to cup your breasts. A small, almost imperceptible smile forms on her lips as she pulls a soft sound from you just from barely brushing your nipple with her thumb.
āYouāre sensitive.ā
She remarks. Not mocking, just observing. Her voice comes out soft and low, almost with awe.
Mom's friend!Baran who kisses down your neck and shoulder slowly. One hand continues to knead your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between her fingers just to hear the small sounds that come from your lips. Her other hand begins trailing down, fingers ghosting over your skin as she makes her way between your legs. She absolutely revels in the gasp that she hears when two of her fingers finally drift between your legs, finally pressing against your clit.
Mom's friend!Baran who fingers you soooo slow. she takes her time with you, fingers sliding through your slick, taking in your every reaction. Her fingers press and circle your clit with just barely enough pressure to make you feel it. When her fingers slip away again, she stares into the mirror, watching your slick clinging to her fingers. She lets out an audible moan, unrestrained this time.
Mom's friend!Baran who pushes her fingers into you while keeping eye contact in the mirror, watching every twist of your face as two of her fingers push into your drooling pussy, stretching it out just so. Her fingers crook into you, pulling another moan out when she presses right against that perfect spot. Her eyes go wide. Now that she knows where youāre sensitive, now that she finally has her hands on you, there is no doubt sheās going to keep hitting that spot as much as she can. And she does. With precision only a doctor could have, Baranās fingers press into youāinto that soft, sensitive spotāwith almost gentle thrusts. Even now, sheās making sure she doesnāt overwhelm you, and doesn't hurt you in any way.
Mom's friend!Baran whose breath stutters when your head drops back against her shoulder, pussy walls clenching, warm and wet, around her digits. You were tight when she first slid her fingers into youā¦ but now? As youāre getting closer, pleasure builds low and hot in your gut, the way you clench around her? It has her feeling like she might just cum in her pants. She doesnāt slow by any means. Her fingers piston in and out of your cunt, while she takes in every wet sound and every moan, pressing desperate kisses along your shoulders.
Mom's friend!Baran whose eyes you swear darken when she watches you cum on her fingers in the mirror. The sight of you twitching, legs feeling like jelly, her arm around you being the only thing keeping you up makes her moan again. Her fingers begin to slow, still curling into your cunt carefully while you come down from your high. She presses a kiss against your shoulder, muttering something about how good you did for her. Her curls brush against your neck as her fingers finally slow, causing you to let out a soft laugh. Itās infectious. Partially because the sound is adorable to Baran, and partly because she realizes how absurd this is. She just fucked her best friendās daughterāwhoās still in college, probably 20 years younger than herāand doesnāt feel sorry about it at all. She just feels so stupidly adoring. She wants to hold you and not let go. She wants to feel your mouth on her, wants to taste you. She wants it all.
Mom's friend!Baran who holds you while you catch your breath, then immediately starts picking up your clothes for you, bra first, then the outfit youād laid out earlier. You watch her with a look of slight confusion.
āYou know I can do that on my own, right?ā
You ask just as sheās bringing over the pile of your clothes. She just smiles at you, almost smugly.
āI know. Just let me help you a little, okay?ā
She soundsā¦ fondly annoyed at your stubbornness. Carefully, she turns you back around to heās ether mirror, grabbing your bra and helping you pull it back on, just like youād asked her to do before sheād come in and shaken up your entire world. Baran notices the way you stare at her in the mirror for a moment.
āThat is, unless you want your mom to see how beautiful you look after cumming on my fingers?ā
She asks sarcastically, that smug smile only spreads wider. Her cheeks flush just the slightest bit, like she still canāt believe any of that actually happened. That she could be that lucky.
Mom's friend!Baran who presses one final kiss to your bare shoulder before helping you pull your top on. She places her hands on your waist, smiling at you in the mirror like sheās just not ready to pull away.
āYou should come over sometime. Iāll cook dinner, you can play with my son. Itāll be nice.ā
She says softly, almost hesitantly, like sheās afraid youāll brush her off when sheās finally offering herself up like this.
āI would love that.ā
That response makes Baran let out a sigh of relief. Her smile widensāgenuine and bright in a way that she rarely lets people see.
āGood.ā
Mom's friend!Baran who leaves the house with her son asleep in her arms, hugging your mom goodbye. Just as sheās about to go, she finds you one more time. Quickly, after checking to make sure your mother wasnāt there, she gives you a peck on the lips.
āIāll call you.ā
She mutters, grinning as she walks back to the car.
āIāll be waiting.ā
You respond, watching as she huffs a small laugh and clicks the door open, gently slotting her son in his car seat. When Baran glances at you one last time, something in her expression tells you āiāll call youā isnāt some way of saying āletās
Chapter 1/4: Don't Try To Run (I Can Keep Up With You)
PAIRING: Maya Mason x Actress!Reader
RATING: Explicit
WORD COUNT: 5.6k
SUMMARY: At an after-party for your most recent movie, you're completely engrossed by a mysterious woman, but she leaves without giving you any information.
The next day, sitting in a meeting at Continental, you find the woman from the night before.
Maya Fucking Mason.
WARNINGS/TAGS: age gap, Mommy kink, bitches be switches, semi-public sex, hidden identity, full list on Ao3
A/N: This was the original version of @hannah-0730's birthday fic! Some of the elements are the same as the other fic, but they're going to be completely different.
Thank you Hannah for getting me to do this and making the banner and being the bestest!
READ IT ON AO3: Don't Try To Run (I Can Keep Up With You)
With a little assistance on your end, Cassie's strong arms wrapped around you and coaxed you up from the floor and onto her knee.
It was humiliating.
Since Baran and Cassie had started enforcing firmer rules about your "enrichment time," you had found yourself confined to the living room rug more often than not.
The couple had encouraged that you spent your days "playing" and let the grown ups do all the thinking for you. What the older women really meant was that they wanted to keep you occupied at all times so that your mind stayed nice and empty.
It was a blessing and a curse- both of them had a strange knack for learning exactly what brought you the most pleasure and then using it against you. This way, were in constant state of being so dumbed down and complacent that they could use you whenever they wanted.
It was pathetic how easily you could be entertained.
Hobbies like writing and drawing had quickly been reduced to wobbly doodles made with big, chunky crayons. Exercise of any form was now limited to "tummy time" and stretching to "keep you limber" (if you were lucky). Even the movies and television shows that you were allowed to watch grew simpler and simpler until the screen only showed a constant stream of shapes and silly sounds for you to babble at. Your world had become softer, fuzzy around the edges. It was warm. Safe.
You fought it at first. You pretended not to care about the countless oversized stuffed animals they bombarded you with and the teething rings you so desperately wanted to gnaw on. You even tried being a "big kid" like Trinity, attempting to make your downtime a bit more engaging by asking for a Lego set. This only resulted in Baran lecturing you about how you would only end up pinching your little fingers. Instead, your Mama gifted you a big stack of foam blocks displaying the alphabet in big, colorful font. She made sure to let you know just how happy she was when she could find you building blocks that were more "age-appropriate."
Those big, soft blocks- the ones that had now become one of your favorite toys- fell to floor when Cassie settled you down onto her lap.
"Hi." Cassie smiled.
The rasp in her voice crackled more fervently as she spoke in a lower register. Her eyes were intense, fixated. She made it clear that whatever she had to say was directed toward you and you alone.
"Hi, Daddy." You whispered shyly.
It was difficult not to squirm as Cassie's knee dug into your cunt, the bone hitting against your little cock in a way that quieted what was left of the restlessness still lurking in your head.
"Have you been a good little boy today?"
Cassie's hands rested on your hips, both steadying you and silently reminding you to stay still.
"Mhm."Ā
"And have you been playing nice with sissy?"
"Mm...mhm..." a quiet, irrepressible moan slipped out between your lips as Cassie began to bounce her leg. Each jerky little movement shot through your core and teased cum out onto her knee.
As Cassie's leg moved up and down, her breasts jumped beneath a shirt that had been worn thin from years of use. You couldn't help but imagine how good her nipples must feel as they brushed against the fabric, how much better they would feel nestled between your warm lips.
"There's my good boy. There's Daddy's sweet little one."
Cassie's hand reached up to cradle your jaw, her thumb teasing the entrance of your mouth. In an instant, your tongue wrapped around the big digit and fervently sucked on the slightly wrinkled skin.
Even though it was only one finger, the sheer size of Cassie's hands made it easy to fill you up and remind you just how small you really were. Daddy's hands were just so strong and veiny that you couldn't help but nibble at the flesh.
"Aww, who's my dumb little baby?" Cassie cooed. You realized your eyes must have gone dull and glossy at the sensation.
When the jostling of your Daddy's leg increased speed, she used your loudening moans as an opportunity to shove her finger deeper inside your mouth.
"Don't be shy baby. Keep looking at Daddy." She urged. Her thumb pumped in and out in rhythm with her leg. A small stream of spit began to dribble from the edge of your lips.
"Such a drooly baby, huh? My drooly baby." Cassie cooed,
The burning heat in your stomach wound tightly from Cassie's praise. You were her baby, and she was your daddy. You didn't need to think anymore, not with your Mama and Daddy here. Daddy was so smart and so strong. She was going to take care of everything now. Daddy felt so, so good...
"Oh! Oh, D-Daddy!" you slurred around her thumb.
As the orgasm rocked through you, the strength to remain perched atop Cassie's knee dwindled and left you bonelessly slumped against the woman's chest. Your cunt felt raw from rubbing against her jeans. Your muscles felt tired and achy.
"You did so good for me little one." Cassie kissed your temple. The warm hug Cassie held you in was short-lived, only a moment passing before she eased you back onto the floor where the blocks had fallen.
"Go ahead and play, angel. You're getting so good at building. Show Daddy how to make a house."
She had been lying. The more time that you spent here, the simpler your mind became. As you relaxed yourself down onto the rug, you could barely grasp the blocks in your shaky little hands. Making a house seemed hard- maybe impossible. At least you could always ask Daddy for help when it got too hard to think.
A/N: Happy Friday everyone! This is the first longer-ish fic I've wrriten for this AU. I spent a while with this one so I hope you guys love it as much as I do.
Fun fact: an earlier draft had included a line about Trinity loving to throw the blocks at your head but it didn't make the cut.
As always, thank you for your support! Let me know what you think!
Like what I do? Consider sending me a tip on Kofi.
