ᗢ Song Witch ᗢ

|| 22 || she/her || theatre || 18+ || minors dni || no age in bio, blocked ||

[song-witch]

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about me!

~ you can call me jane. i'm 22 and my pronouns are she/her. i'm in my final year of college as an mt major!

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rules

~ 18+. MINORS DNI! if your age isn't in your blog, you will be blocked!

~ i'll write pretty much anything, unless it's been stated otherwise. just ask if you're unsure!

~ i write mainly for Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff, but will write others.

~ i also write for the rookie, mainly lucy chen!

~ i won't write for; hateful content (racism, homophobia, etc.), pedophilia, etc.

~ i will not tolerate hate towards any real people!

~ be nice and you won't be blocked :D

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requests: open

asks: open

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my ao3

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[hopelesslygaysstuff]

50 Shades of Red || Chapter 11

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Wanda makes breakfast and then has sexy bath time, another first.

content warnings: smut, fingering

word count: 4.8k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Golden light fills the room, coaxing Wanda from a deep, comfortable sleep. She blinks slowly, stretching slightly under the covers before freezing. An arm is wrapped around her waist, a warm body pressed up against her back. When Wanda turns, still half asleep, her breath catches with the realization that Natasha is fast asleep behind her. 

The woman’s hair is splayed out on the pillow, her features soft in the morning light, not a single wrinkle or furrowed brow in sight. Wanda is slightly surprised to see her still in bed, but she can’t complain as she studies the features of her face. 

Natasha’s lips are sculpted in a perfect pout, slightly tinged red. They must be naturally saturated, since Wanda can’t recall the woman putting on much makeup. Her shiny hair smells faintly of coconut and lays perfectly on the pillow without a knot in sight. She won’t be waking up with bedhead, that’s for sure. How could anyone look that good and still be legally allowed to walk around in public? It’s tempting to reach out, Wanda’s fingertips tingling at the mere thought of touching that perfect soft skin, but she doesn’t want to take the woman. 

Wanda could stare at her all day, but she has needs- bathroom needs. Slipping out of bed and immediately missing the sensation of Natasha’s arms around her, she shrugs on a white shirt from the floor. It’s a bit oversized and smells like cinnamon, and Wanda tries -and fails- to hide the smile creeping on her face. 

She opens a door, thinking it's the bathroom, but instead walks into a massive walk-in closet as big as her bedroom. There are lines and lines of expensive shirts, shoes, jackets, and slacks. How could anyone possibly need that many clothes? Wanda shakes her head, smiling a bit when she remembers the size of Kate’s wardrobe; it could probably rival this. 

Kate! Oh no, Wanda hadn’t thought about her all evening, too caught up in the dinner and the freaky red room she was having conflicting feelings about, then the sex…

Shit, she’s going to be in so much trouble. Wanda just hopes Kate is still getting along well with Yelena. 

Closing the door behind her, Wanda glances at Natasha’s still sleeping form as she reenters the bedroom. Trying the other door, she sighs in relief at the massive bathroom she finds. Honestly, how does one woman need that much space? She scoffs at the sight of the double sinks as she makes her way to the toilet; Natasha keeps mentioning that she doesn’t sleep with anyone, that means one of the sinks has gone unused. What a waste. 

Washing her hands, Wanda stares at herself in the massive mirror above the sinks. She feels different, does she look different? Her muscles are a bit sore, especially around her hips. She remembers widely thrusting her hips up into Natasha’s face and flushes, splashing some water on her face. 

Oh, god. What am I doing here?

Wanda winces as she looks back in the mirror, choosing to self-soothe with some of Natasha’s expensive skin care products. She rubs some toner on her face, taking a few deep breaths as she processes. Wanda can’t believe she’s starting to fall for a woman who is beyond beautiful, richer than ninety percent of the country, and has a red room of pain just in her penthouse. It baffles her, the absurdity of the situation causing a slight chuckle to bubble up as she smears some lotion on her cheeks. Her hair is its usual wayward self, and Wanda runs her fingers through it before giving up and deciding to look for some hair ties at the bottom of her purse.

She’s starving. Heading back into the bedroom, Wanda smiles slightly, Natasha is still sleeping. She leaves her to it, walking out of the bedroom and heading for the kitchen. 

“Fuck, Kate,” Wanda whispers, her steps quickening as she locates her purse still on the kitchen counter. Grabbing her phone and sighing at the low-battery display in the corner, she bites her lip. Three texts await her.

r u good Wands?

where r u Wanda

If i have to drag ur dead body out of the ocean bc you got murdered, i’m gonna be so pissed. text me back when u wake up

Wanda calls her, the line ringing for a few minutes before going to voicemail. She leaves a groveling message, telling her that she’s very much alive and doing alright. She can’t help but throw in a comment about Yelena spending the night, making sure Kate can hear the smirk in her voice before ending it. 

She needs some alone time to think. This whole thing is… it’s fucking exciting. It’s thrilling and it makes Wanda’s heart race and that absolutely terrifies her. She pulls out a hair tie, putting her hair up and ignoring the strands that escape to frame her face. She mindlessly scrolls through her playlists before selecting one and slipping the phone into the big breast pocket of Natasha’s shirt. 

The kitchen is daunting, sleek, and modern. None of the cupboards have handles, and it takes Wanda a few tries to deduce that she has to push the cupboard doors in to open them. How strange. 

Opening the fridge, Wanda decides to make Natasha some breakfast. She eats food like a normal person, right? Wanda remembers that she was eating an omelette the other day at the hotel… jeez so much has happened since then. There are plenty of eggs, and a packet of bacon on the shelf, so Wanda decides to make pancakes, eggs, and bacon. 

She begins to make batter, having memorized her perfect pancake recipe years ago. 

Wanda smiles, the memory of the night before creeping into her mind. God, the look in Natasha’s eyes while she was looking up at Wanda from between her thighs. Leaning against the counter, Wanda lets out a giddy giggle, biting her lip to contain the noise while she adds an egg to her batter. 

The fancy kitchen confuses her again and it takes Wanda a few seconds to figure out how the stovetop works, her face flushed as she remembers the heat of Natasha’s fingers on her body. Being busy is good. It stops her fingers from trembling every time she recalls those dark green eyes, her pancakes smelling delicious as she slowly spreads the batter into circles on the built-in stovetop. The bacon sizzles slightly, Wanda sighing in relief as she realizes she set the temperature correctly. 

Dancing slightly, more just moving her hips really, Wanda whisks some eggs together, taking care not to spill on Natasha’s expensive countertops. She turns and Natasha is sitting on a barstool near the breakfast bar, her elbows on the counter and chin on her hands. She’s wearing a thin shirt, her nipples poking through slightly as she smirks, looking both amused and bewildered. 

“Oh, I-” Wanda falters, freezing slightly, the whisk dripping egg remnants in the bowl. Her music sounds out in the silence, and Wanda fumbles with her phone for a moment before her thumb finally presses the pause button. 

“Good morning, Ms. Maximoff. You’re very energetic this morning,” Natasha says dryly, her eyes glinting. 

“I slept well,” Wanda stutters. She watches those perfect lips purse, attempting to hide a smile as Natasha rubs her face thoughtfully. 

“I can’t imagine why.”

Wanda clears her throat at that, her cheeks aflame at the small smile playing on Natasha’s lips. The woman is teasing, her eyes locked on Wanda while the younger woman awkwardly gestures towards the stovetop. “Are you hungry?”

“Very,” Natasha says with an intense look. Wanda doesn't think she’s referring to the food.  

“Pancakes, bacon, and eggs?”

“Perfect.”

“I don’t know where you keep your placemats.” Wanda shrugs, turning towards the stove in an attempt to hide her flustered face. Her fingers shake as she scoops the eggs into a frying pan, her ears picking up the sound of a chair scraping back slightly. 

Natasha’s hand gently slides against her waist, her fingers dipping briefly under the waistband of Wanda’s underwear before she speaks. “I’ll do that. You cook.” Her voice is husky. “Please, continue to dance to your music.”

Wanda jumps at the touch, before she finds herself leaning into it, her cheeks most likely as red as her hair. 

“Please, don’t stop on my account,” Natasha murmurs, and Wanda can hear the smirk in her voice. “It’s very entertaining.”

A hand wraps around her ponytail, tugging slightly. Wanda can’t help the gasp that escapes her lips at the action, a familiar warmth spreading through her body. Natasha leans in, her lips brushing Wanda’s ear. “I like your hair like this.”

“How would you like your eggs?” Wanda chokes out, her fingers trembling slightly as she reaches for the carton. 

“Thoroughly whisked and beaten,” Natasha smirks. 

Wanda turns back to the task at hand, taking a few steadying breaths as she cracks two eggs into a bowl. She can’t help but flush as she begins to whisk the eggs together, biting her lip at Natasha’s words while the woman rummages around her kitchen and sets two placemats down at the breakfast bar counter. 

Taking her time, Wanda finishes the pancakes and bacon, the eggs still slightly runny as she serves them on a plate. She likes her eggs best that way, and hopes Natasha doesn’t mind. 

Turning, Wanda watches Natasha take out a few bags of chai tea, setting them in a teacup full of hot water, the steam rising. She’s slightly surprised, a pleased warmth spreading through her at the realization that the woman had remembered her drink of choice. 

“Bit of a foregone conclusion, wasn’t I?”

“Are you? I’m not sure we’ve concluded anything yet, Ms. Maximoff,” Natasha murmurs, her eyes glinting. 

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? God, she’s so cryptic. 

Wanda shakes her head slightly, setting the plates down on the placemats. She winces slightly as she sits. 

“You’re sore,” Natasha states, her brows furrowing. 

“No, I-” Wanda picks up her fork as she adjusts the way she’s sitting. “I’m just a bit sensitive, I’ve never…” she clears her throat, awkwardly looking down at her food. “I’ve never done anything like that before so I’m just, well…”

Natasha chuckles slightly, “Eat, Wanda.” She gestures to the plate full of steaming food as she picks up her fork. “This is delicious, thank you.”

Flushing, Wanda takes a bite of her pancake. She barely tastes anything as she eats, her mind whirling. Natasha’s knee is pressed against hers, but that’s all the woman does. She doesn’t make any moves to adjust the way she’s seated. It’s thrilling and completely all-consuming, Wanda’s brain not able to focus on anything but the steady pressure of the other woman’s knee against hers. 

“Would you like to stay?” Natasha asks. Her expression is unreadable, her lips gently sipping from her coffee mug. 

“Yes,” Wanda finally says, moving her eggs around with her fork for a moment. “I have to work tomorrow though.”

“What time do you have to be at work?”

“Nine.”

“I’ll get you to work by nine tomorrow, then.”

Her tone is firm, and Wanda hesitates to question her words. Does she want her to stay another night? “I’ll need to go home tonight. I need clean clothes.”

Natasha waves her words off, gathering eggs on her fork before she speaks. “We can get you some here.”

“I need to be home this evening,” Wanda mumbles, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. It’s not that she doesn’t want to spend time with Natasha, but she doesn’t have any spare cash to spend on buying clothes. Besides, she needs to check in with Kate.

A firm hand grasps her chin, tugging slightly until Wanda’s lip is released from the grip of her teeth. Natasha’s eyes are dark as she glances from Wanda’s lips to her eyes. “Fine, I’ll have you home this evening.”

Wanda lets out a breath, nodding as she notices the small smile gracing Natasha’s lips. Good, the woman isn’t angry. Wanda is suddenly struck by the thought that she doesn’t really know Natasha at all. She has no idea what she was doing here, or how to navigate a relationship. Was it even a relationship?

“You cooked, I’ll clean,” Natasha’s voice interrupts her spiraling thoughts, her long fingers effortlessly grabbing Wanda’s empty plate. 

“That’s very democratic,” Wanda murmurs, her thoughts slowly returning to the present. Her heart rate calms slightly. 

“Yes,” Natasha frowns slightly, her hands pausing as she scrubs the plates. “It’s not my usual style. After I’m done with these, we’ll take a bath.”

“Oh,” Wanda flushes again. God, will she ever get control over her reactions to this woman? Her phone rings, buzzing on the counter. It’s Kate.

Clinging to her phone like a lifeline, Wanda stands and makes her way over to the glass doors of the balcony. Her voice trembles slightly, “Hi, Kate.”

“Wandsss, why didn’t you text me last night?”

“I’m really sorry, Kate. I was too busy having dinner and-”

“You’re okay, though?” Kate interrupts, her tone slightly worried. 

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Good, I’m glad. I was kinda freaking out. So, did you?” She’s fishing for information. Wanda rolls her eyes at the expectation in her voice. 

“Kate, I love you but I am not talking about this over the phone.” 

Natasha glances over from her place at the sink, and Wanda catches her eyes in the reflection of the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

“You did. I can tell.”

Kate’s voice is slightly loud, her excitement almost tangible. Wanda scoffs. How can she tell? She has to be bluffing, and Wanda can’t even talk about it. She signed a goddamn NDA.

“Please, Kate…”

“What was it like? Are you okay?”

“I already said I’m okay.”

“Was she gentle?”

Wanda chokes slightly. “I’ll see you tonight, Kate.” She hangs up the phone, cutting off her roommate's protests. This is going to be a difficult conversation to have. Kate is the most tenacious person she knows, and she’s going to want to know everything in detail. But Wanda can’t tell her, because of the stupid NDA. 

She’ll freak out, Wanda realizes. She needs a plan. Or, at least, some more details. 

“Natasha?” She asks, walking back towards the kitchen. Green eyes meet hers, the woman turning to face her. “The NDA, does it cover everything?” Wanda asks tentatively. 

“Why?”

Wanda flushes again. “Well, I have a few questions, you know, about sex.” Wanda stares down at her fingers. “And I’d like to ask Kate.”

“You can ask me.”

“Natasha, with all due respect,” Wanda’s voice fades. She can’t ask Natasha. Not yet, anyway. “It’s just about mechanics. I won’t even mention your Red Room.”

Natasha raises her eyebrows. “I’d rather you asked me, especially given that your roommate is in… relations with my sister. I’m rather private about my sex life.”

Nodding, Wanda asks, “Does your family know about your, um, kinkier side?”

“No, and it’s none of their business.” Natasha advances, her steps lightly sounding out until she’s standing in front of Wanda. 

“What do you want to know?” she asks, raising her hand and gently grabbing Wanda’s waist. Her other hand reaches up and cups her cheek, her fingers gripping her jaw and tilting Wanda’s head back until she’s looking her square in the eye. Squirming, Wanda realizes that she cannot lie to this woman. 

“Nothing specific at the moment,” Wanda whispers. Her brain is growing fuzzy. Something about Natasha’s commanding touch makes her lose all coherent thoughts. 

“Well, we can start with this,” Natasha hums, her eyes intent. “How was last night for you? Be honest, I don’t tolerate lies.”

“It was really good, everything I’ve ever imagined and better,” Wanda murmurs. Her cheeks burn, her tongue unable to lie. 

Natasha’s lips lift slightly. “Me too. I’ve never had vanilla sex before. There’s a lot to be said for it. But then, maybe it’s because it’s with you.” Her thumb runs across Wanda’s lower lip. 

Inhaling sharply, Wanda’s mind races. Vanilla sex?

“Come, let's have a bath.” Natasha leans down and kisses her. The taste of her lips quiets Wanda’s mind, her gut pooling with heat at the commanding words. The fingers around her waist tighten, a possessive groan sounding out as Natasha’s teeth dig into her bottom lip. 

The bath is a black stone, deep, egg-shaped affair. It’s all very luxurious. Natasha fills the tub, pouring some expensive-looking bath oil into the water. It smells like vanilla, and Wanda tilts her head slightly as she recognizes the scent. 

“Ever since I smelled your perfume, I searched for the scent until I found one close enough,” Natasha shrugs, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“That’s very thoughtful,” Wanda murmurs, her heart swelling as she blushes. 

Natasha smirks, pulling her shirt off in one smooth movement before sliding her panties down her toned legs and kicking them to the side. Wanda can’t help but stare, her eyes wandering up the woman’s body shamelessly. God, she’s so fucking hot. 

“Ms. Maximoff.” She holds a hand out. 

Wanda jolts, realizing that she’s staring. She’s still in the doorway, wide-eyed and slightly self-conscious, her arms wrapped around her body. Stepping forward, she finds confidence in the way Natasha unabashedly checks out her nude legs, the only thing protecting her being the thin fabric of Natasha’s shirt. She reaches forward, taking Natasha’s hand and suppressing a moan when the woman pulls her flush against her body. 

“Look at me,” Natasha orders, her voice soft. Wanda obeys, her eyes flicking up towards the woman’s dark green eyes. Her pupils are dilated again, Wanda notes, the woman watching her intently. 

“I know that lip is delicious, I can attest to that, but will you stop biting it?” Natasha says, her jaw clenched slightly. Wanda blinks. She hadn’t even noticed she was biting it. “You chewing it makes me want to fuck you sore, understand?”

Wanda gasps, nodding as she releases her lip. She’s shocked, but her clit throbs slightly at the older woman’s words. Natasha’s hands move, gripping the bottom of her shirt and pulling upwards until Wanda’s nude body is revealed and discarding it on the floor. 

“Perfect,” Natasha murmurs, stepping back to gaze at her. Wanda flushes, her chest reddening as her cheeks warm, her hands twisting awkwardly in front of her. 

Strong hands envelop her own for a moment, before gliding up her arms and gently grasping her shoulders. “Wanda, you’re a very beautiful woman,” Natasha says, her head cocked slightly as her eyes bore into Wanda’s. “Don’t hang your head like you’re ashamed. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m honored to be standing here and gazing at you. I thank you for trusting me like this,” Her hand cups Wanda’s chin again, tilting her head up. 

Those dark green eyes are warm, desire shining through as Wanda locks her gaze with Natasha’s. 

“Get in the tub.”

Wanda ignores the way her stomach clenches with hot desire at the command. She simply nods and steps into the tub, her muscles relaxing as she sits. The water is hot, stinging her skin slightly as she sinks into it. It takes her by surprise, but it smells like heaven, vanilla wafting around her as she lies back, her eyes closing of their own accord. The warmth is soothing, but Wanda forces herself to look up, finding Natasha’s form above her, those dark eyes gazing down at her form. 

“Join me?” Wanda asks, her voice slightly husky. She feels brave, one hand stretching out of the water to beckon the older woman. 

“I think I will. Move forward,” Natasha orders. 

She climbs in behind Wanda, the water rising slightly as she sits. Pulling Wanda against her, she settles in. Natasha places her long legs over Wanda’s, her knees bent and ankles level with hers, before she pulls her feet apart and opens Wanda’s legs. 

A sharp gasp escapes Wanda, surprise flooding her at the surprising move. She feels herself throb at the thought of being open and exposed to Natasha. The woman’s nose is in her hair, and she inhales deeply. 

“You smell absolutely delicious, Wanda.”

If someone had told Wanda a week ago that she would be naked in a bath with Natasha Romanoff, she would have laughed, unbelieving. But, here she was. She can feel the older woman’s nipples poking her back, her breasts pressed deliciously against her. 

Natasha reaches for the bottle of body wash from the built-in shelf beside the bath, squirting some in her hand. She rubs her hands together, creating a soft, foaming lather. She starts at Wanda’s neck, rubbing firmly as she works her way across her shoulders. 

Wanda groans. 

“You like that?” Natasha’s voice is low, and Wanda can hear the smirk in her voice. 

“Mhmm.”

Her hands move down Wanda’s arms, then under them to her underarms. Her fingers are gentle, her movements slow and deliberate. Wanda is suddenly glad that Kate made her shave. Natasha’s hands glide across her skin to her chest, and Wanda inhales sharply as her fingers encircle her nipples and her hands knead gently. Her back arches instinctively, pushing her breasts further into her hands. Her nipples are tender, the aching pain of Natasha’s fingers working them up sending warmth shooting to her core. Natasha’s hands don’t linger, gliding down her stomach as Wanda relaxes further, her head falling back until it rests on the older woman’s shoulder. 

Natasha reaches for a washcloth as Wanda pants, her chest heaving slightly as she tries not to squirm too much. She feels so… needy. She’s never wanted stimulation more in her life, her core aching between her spread legs. Wanda places her hands on Natasha’s thighs, feeling the firm muscles and biting down on her lip as sharp arousal invades her mind. 

Leaning down slightly, Natasha squirts some soap onto the washcloth and washes between Wanda’s legs. Her fingers skillfully stimulate her sensitive core through the cloth, and it feels like absolute heaven. Wanda’s hips start moving of their own accord, pushing against Natasha’s hand. She can feel her eyes rolling back slightly, her lips parting as a groan escapes her, the pressure inside her building. 

“Feel that, sweetheart?” Natasha whispers, her teeth gently scraping Wanda’s earlobe. “Do you feel how good I can make you feel?” Her legs firmly trap Wanda’s, holding her against her in the tub and granting her easy access to the most private and sensitive parts of the younger woman. 

“Oh, please,” Wanda whispers. She tries to stiffen her legs, to close them and give herself the friction she needs as the pleasure keeps building slowly. Natasha doesn’t let her move, her fingers moving slow and deliberate through the washcloth. 

“I think you’re clean enough now,” Natasha murmurs, then stops, pulling the washcloth away. 

What? No… fuck. No!

Wanda’s breathing is ragged, her chest flushed from the heat of the water and the way her body had been expertly handled. 

“Why are you stopping?”

“Because,” Natasha whispers, and Wanda can hear the smirk in her voice. “I have other plans for you, Ms. Maximoff.”

Oh. That’s not fair. She was… so close… why did the older woman have to be so controlling and… fucking smug about it?

“Turn around, I need washing too.”

Wanda takes a shuddering breath, hoping that her heart rate calms down as she turns, licking her lips slightly when she catches sight of Natasha’s breasts. God, they’re beautiful. She suddenly has the urge to touch them, to lather them in soap and fondle them while they glisten until the woman’s nipples are hard. She wants Natasha to come undone. 

Water sloshes gently against the tub walls as Wanda positions herself. She straddles Natasha’s hips, pleased at the approving hum the woman gives her, reaching for the soap. Firm hands circle her waist, fingers digging into her hips as she rubs the soap into a lather between her palms. 

Natasha lets out a satisfied noise from the back of her throat when Wanda finally places her hands on her shoulders. She starts slow, ignoring the heat in Natasha’s eyes as she focuses on cleaning every inch of the woman’s skin. Her fingers trace sharp collarbones before traveling down and cupping her breasts. 

“Fuck,” Natasha mutters, her head dropping back against the tub as Wanda begins to play with her nipples. 

Truly, she has no idea what she’s doing. She circles them for a few moments before she gently rolls them between her fingers. Natasha’s hips jerk underneath her, the fingers on her hips squeezing for a mere second. Wanda smiles, wanting to get more reactions from her. Gently, she pinches Natasha’s nipples, squeezing harder until the woman gasps slightly, her head jerking up as she fixes her dark green eyes on Wanda. 

The look in her eyes is intense, her brows furrowed and her fingers digging almost painfully into Wanda’s waist. If it wasn’t for the dilated pupils or flush creeping into the woman’s cheeks, Wanda would have assumed that she was angry. She decides to move her hands further down, her fingers grazing the woman’s abs, feeling them tense under her touch. 

“Can I?”

Natasha nods, her eyes flicking between their bodies as she grabs Wanda’s wrist and guides her hand further down. She feels velvety smooth beneath Wanda’s fingertips, and she can feel a slight slickness coating them as she explores. 

“Fuck, baby,” Natasha groans, letting go of Wanda’s wrist and moving her hand back around her waist. 

Wanda feels almost hesitant, her fingers barely grazing Natasha as she moves. She feels lightheaded while she watches Natasha, her fingers finding the older woman’s clit. Mimicking the movements she had felt the night before, Wanda begins to circle it, gentle at first. She begins to experiment, noting each time Natasha’s hips jerk from her actions. 

It’s slightly awkward, her arm between their bodies as her fingers move. She can feel her forearm growing tired, her fingers slipping clumsily from a combination of fatigue, inexperience, and the slick arousal coating Natasha’s core. 

“Oh… Christ,” Natasha groans, her hand wrapping around Wanda’s wrist again. “Go inside, baby. You won’t hurt me, go on.”

Prodding slightly, Wanda finds her entrance with a little help from the pressure of Natasha’s grip on her wrist. She feels a small moan slip past her lips as she sinks inside the older woman, her fingers enveloped by slick, tight heat. Fuck, she can smell Natasha’s arousal. 

“Move,” Natasha growls. 

Thinking about what makes her feel good, Wanda curls her fingers experimentally. Natasha gives her an encouraging nod, her eyes intense as she watches her. Biting her lip, Wanda concentrates, pumping her fingers steadily as she curls them, her thumb twisting to rub over Natasha’s clit. She doesn’t quite know if she’s doing it right, but the woman is moaning softly with her head thrown back and hips moving. Water sloshes between them, but Wanda can’t focus on anything but the woman under her. 

“Wanda, I’m going to cum,” Natasha’s breathy tone is warning, her eyes lidded as she looks at her. Her chest is heaving slightly, and Wanda feels her mind go fuzzy with need. 

Grinding down slightly, Wanda gasps at the friction against her throbbing clit, humping her own hand as she continues to finger Natasha, curling her fingers. The hands around her waist are gripping tightly, and Wanda surges forward to capture the other woman’s lips between her own. 

A strangled moan sounds out, Natasha’s hips jerking as water moves around them, her teeth tugging at Wanda’s bottom lip. The woman’s walls spasm and squeeze Wanda’s fingers as she gasps into the kiss, a low moan vibrating against their conjoined lips. 

The sound of water hitting the floor sounds out amid gasps for breath. Natasha breaks the kiss, her thumbs stroking Wanda’s hips as she relaxes into the tub, her chest heaving and her eyes narrowed slightly. 

“Have you done that before?”

“No.” Wanda can’t help the small tinge of pride that creeps into her chest at Natasha’s pleased expression, her eyebrows raising slightly. 

“Good,” Natasha says, and Wanda detects a hint of relief in her tone. “Yet another first, Ms. Maximoff.”

Dark green eyes glance up and down her body, a small smirk playing on those full lips. Wanda notes that the water has gone lukewarm, her skin smelling of vanilla as her mind focuses on the woman in front of her. She had never imagined feeling this comfortable with another woman before, much less being nude in the warm lighting of a bathroom. Sharing a bathtub? 

God, Wanda is so gay. 

“Come,” Natasha rises, water dripping off her toned body as Wanda openly stares. Her eyes are expectant as she grabs a towel, holding out a hand. “I owe you an orgasm.” She winks. “Or two, if you’re good for me.”

Wanda thinks her heart is going to give out from how fast it's beating. 

Orgasm? Another one?

This woman was going to be the death of her.

---

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @dorabledewdroop @justarandomreaderxoxo @godhatesgoodgirls @snowdrop1026 @maximoffmorale @noturlondonboy @xenaizogie @imjustvibingsworld @tobiaslut @xenaizogie @sxlfishbrokenheart @huggingkoalas @deliriosinrose @godhatesgoodgirls @yeetus-thyself @wizardofstories @wandastan-2 @the-ox-fan20 @danveration @jazzyxqzl @jolyssereed

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝐻𝑖𝑡

pairing: wanda maximoff x gn!reader

summary: You and Wanda hotbox a car, then fuck.

content warnings: reader has a penis, drinking, smoking weed, car sex, blowjob, handjob, unprotected sex, restraints, creampie, putting out a joint on skin

word count: 4.2k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

A/N: shout out to Rae for helping me understand what it feels like to be high ily pooks @wndaswife ♡

“Hey.”

You look around, squinting against the flashing lights. The basement smells like old beer, and there’s something suspiciously sticky on the bottom of your shoe. Wanda is shouldering her way through the crowd, her eyes locked on you. 

“This frat is totally lame, babe,” you say, raising your voice slightly so she can hear you. You reach out, pulling her in by the waist, your back resting against the wall. It’s slightly cold, but you don’t mind. The air feels stale, the warmth from the multitude of bodies packed into the basement making your skin damp with sweat.

Wanda rolls her eyes, finishing the rest of her beer before chucking it into the crowd. You don’t see it land, distracted by her hands on your shoulders. She’s feeling you up, running her fingers over your muscles for a moment before leaning in, her chest pressing against yours while her lips tickle your ear. 

“Wanna get out of here and smoke?”

You chuckle, nodding as she pulls back, her eyes glinting under her thick eyeliner. One of her rings catches on the fabric of your shirt as she pulls away, your hand finding hers and leading her toward the exit. 

Wanda’s car isn’t hard to find, the slightly chipped red paint standing out as you open the door for her. It isn’t much, but it was her brother’s car before he went overseas in the Army, and Wanda takes good enough care of it. She never lets you drive it, though. 

“The usual spot?” You ask, pulling out some rolling paper and your bag of weed. You double-check your pockets, finding two lighters and pulling them out. 

“Yeah,” Wanda says, her hand resting on the back of your headrest before she pulls out of the parking spot. It’s hot, and you make sure to return her smirk, adjusting how you’re sitting when her hand drops to your thigh. 

“And, you’re good to drive?”

Wanda rolls her eyes, giving you a look. “I had like, half a beer. Don’t worry so much. I saw the way you shotgunned with that one blonde guy, if anyone should be worried about how much alcohol they’ve drank, it’s you.”

Holding up your hands in mock surrender, you shake your head. “I don’t even know who that was, but who am I to pass up a free beer?”

You would start rolling a joint, but Wanda isn’t the calmest driver. She has one foot up on the seat, her fingers cranking up the music, metal blaring and reverberating around your skull. You lurch forward as she slams on the brakes, swearing under her breath as a car cuts her off, merging at the last second to exit the highway. 

“Fuckin idiot,” she glares, one hand running through her hair as the road stretches out. It’s late, with barely any other cars in sight. 

The hand on your thigh moves slightly, dragging up further as Wanda drives. You can feel your head pounding slightly, the alcohol making its way through your system, and your ears still ringing from the loud music that had bounced around the walls of the basement. 

Gravel sounds out under the tires, a sign that you’re close to the usual smoke spot. It’s secluded, with a great view of the city. Thick trees tower around you, and when Wanda kills the engine, the only sound is the occasional cricket or bird call. 

“Give me one,” Wanda says, her fingers grabbing a rolling paper before you can respond. 

“Damn,” You mutter, opening the baggie full of weed. The scent hits you, and you breathe in deeply. “You’re needy tonight.”

“Fuck off,” Wanda rolls her eyes, glancing at your crotch. “If anyone’s needy, it’s you.”

Smirking, you roll your hips for a moment, your bulge noticeable. “Guilty as charged, can you blame me? Your ass and legs look great in that skirt.”

Wanda scoffs, but you see the pleased blush she wears. You shake some weed out on your rolling paper before handing her the baggie, your gaze lingering on her focused expression as she does the same. Your fingers move, muscle memory taking over as you roll the joint, stuffing some more weed into it with the end of a pen. You offer it to Wanda, and don’t try to hide the way your bulge grows when her fingers brush yours. 

“Lighter, baby?”

You hand it over, licking the end of your paper as you finish rolling your joint. Wanda lights the end of hers, sucking in deeply before turning to you and exhaling, a lazy grin spreading on her face. 

“That good, huh?” You ask, taking the lighter and lighting your own joint. You suck in a breath, loving the slight burn at the back of your throat.

Wanda hums, dropping her head back until it hits the headrest of her seat, blowing smoke toward the ceiling slowly. You watch her do a couple of tricks, her grin spreading wider with each minute that passes. You adjust your hips again, spreading your legs further and getting comfortable, watching Wanda grow hazier as more smoke fills the car. 

“Are you feeling anything?” You ask, inhaling deeply as Wanda lets out a satisfied sigh. 

“Not yet, but it shouldn’t take long,” she responds, flicking ash into the metal tin that sits between you two. “We’re gonna be stoned soon with the way we’re hotboxing this shit.”

You don’t respond to that, feeling a warm fuzziness grow within your chest. Your limbs begin to relax, your lips tingling slightly. Catching a glimpse of yourself through the haze, you stare at your reflection in the side mirror. Part of you is aware of your hair loosely hanging over your forehead, Wanda’s hand resting on your thigh as she stretches out, and the joint feeling warm between your fingers. 

“Take another hit, baby,” Wanda murmurs, her voice low and soothing, her fingers finding the knob of the CD player and turning the volume lower until the music is no longer jarring. Your eyes roam around the car briefly, your chest feeling warm as you smile lazily. Wanda’s fingers are cool as they touch your hand, bringing the joint to your lips. 

The bass flowing through the car fills you, your heart thumping to the beat as you take another hit. Wanda fiddles with her phone, her auburn hair glowing slightly before she turns her screen brightness down. 

You can’t quite remember how you got in the car, or what you were doing earlier that night. It doesn’t matter. Wanda is here, and her green eyes are warm and big and looking right at you, her fingers reaching for your lap as low jazz fills the space. Your reflection is back in the side mirror, your face flushed as Wanda’s fingers brush your bulge again while grabbing a rolling paper. 

“Baby, where’s the weed?”

You chuckle. Wanda is asking where the weed is. It’s right here, silly. It’s… it’s-

Wait. Where is the weed?

“Fuck, um,” you mumble, your body weightless as you lean forward. When did your seat recline? You search around, your fingers brushing Wanda’s as she leans toward you. She’s giggling, her hair smelling like vanilla as she leans into you. Her breath is warm, her lips are soft, and her hands are all over you. They wrap around your waist and skate over your thighs, your fingers finally feeling the plastic baggie on the floor near your boots as her lips suck gently on your neck. 

“Found it.”

“Hm?” Wanda’s voice is all around you, her body practically on top of yours as she leans further into your space. She smells delicious, your skin aflame where her fingertips drag over it, lifting your shirt slightly to stroke your hips. 

“The weed,” you say, your voice somehow sounding both miles away and eerily omnipresent. You hold up the bag, smiling at Wanda’s hand quickly grabbing it. 

You pull out two more rolling papers, Wanda having dropped hers somewhere on the floor, and the silence stretches comfortably as you both focus on the task in front of you. It’s soothing to roll the joint, your fingers moving with practiced ease before you twist the end, your hand moving to Wanda’s thigh where the lighter rests. 

Smoke swirls lazily around you, the car reeking of weed. You find it comforting, the layers of jazz music blending and mixing together into a single endless stream as it flows through your consciousness. 

Wanda hums slightly as she finishes her joint, letting you take the lighter from her lap before she looks over at you. Moving slowly, she somehow manages to move from the driver's seat to your lap, straddling you and pulling the lever to recline the seat fully back.

“Get comfortable,” Wanda murmurs, stealing the lighter from your slack fingers and chuckling at your open-mouthed expression. 

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. It’s not a giggle, it’s a laugh. Definitely not a giggle. God, it’s just so funny, the way she- wait. What was funny?

Wanda is inhaling, her lips wrapped around the end of her lit joint, the flame casting sharp shadows on her face. Her irises glow for a brief moment as the reflection dances in her glassy eyes before she flicks the lighter off with a practiced motion of her thumb. You think it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen.

Smoke is blown softly into your face, and you eagerly sit up, your muscles flexing as you grab her around the waist. “Do it again,” you beg, and part your lips. 

You long to feel her soft lips on yours, and you feel your cock throb hotly when Wanda grips your jaw with one hand, the other bringing the joint to her smirking lips. Everything else fades, the jazz music dulling and the city view out the window dimming as you focus on her. You breathe in when she does, releasing your breath quickly in anticipation. 

Those wonderful lips meet yours, and it feels like absolute heaven. Wanda breathes out, smoke and vanilla mixing as they fill your mouth and nostrils, every single sense of yours surrounded by her. You inhale carefully, breathing in her very essence as you feel your lungs burn slightly, the weed making your head spin pleasantly. 

“Good job, pet,” Wanda murmurs, kissing you fiercely. She bites into your lip, and you moan lowly as you exhale, smoke expelling from your lungs and joining the swirling mist in the air of her car.

She moves her hips, subtly grinding down on your lap. You feel yourself ache, your hips moving up to meet hers as you moan into her mouth. It’s over far too soon, the pressure building as she continues to move her hips, her lips detaching from yours as she leans back, arching her back and grinding harder. 

“Want something, baby?” Wanda asks, one hand bringing the joint to her lips while the other tangles with your hair and shoves your head back into the seat. 

“More,” you say, your voice breathy and echoing. Your head is fuzzy, your limbs weightless as your thumbs stroke her hips. 

Wanda leans down, the change in position pressing her hips firmly against your cock as it strains in your boxers. It feels trapped beneath your pants, but you make no move to release yourself. That’s Wanda’s decision. 

More smoke is inhaled directly into your mouth, and you eagerly suck it in. Wanda’s lips are all over you, sealed around your lips as she exhales fully, her fingers closing your mouth and forcing you to inhale. She kisses down your neck as you do, your throat bobbing as you fight a cough. Her lips feel like fire, her tongue dragging over your skin for a moment before she sucks gently near your collarbone.

“Fuck,” you whisper, watching the smoke escape from your lips as you speak, curling around Wanda’s hair when she sits back up. The joint is pressed into your fingers, the lit end casting shadows on Wanda’s face as she watches you place it between your lips. 

“Take a deep breath, baby,” Wanda whispers, her eyes intent. She looks almost hungry, and her hips shift on top of you when you nod obediently, filling your lungs with smoke. Strong fingers pinch your nose, Wanda licking her lips before speaking. “Hold it.”

You feel lightheaded, your limbs heavy and your chest warm. The warm tingly feeling spreads up to your shoulders and down your arms, your head fully relaxing on the seat as you lean back. Everything is comfortable, Wanda’s vanilla perfume mixing with the heavenly scent of weed, her figure slightly fuzzy as you peer through the haze of smoke. 

Wanda moves again, taking the joint from between your lips and letting go of your nose. “Breathe it out,” she murmurs, holding the burning joint away from her hair as she leans down to kiss you, eagerly inhaling the smoke you expel from your lungs. 

Time turns a bit fluid after that, the sensation of overwhelming warmth taking over you as Wanda sits on your lap, her hands mindlessly running over your torso. Her fingernails scrape down your chest, her palms warm as she feels your abs, one hand holding the joint to her lips. 

You find the joint pressed between your lips, the faint taste of Wanda’s vanilla lip gloss coating your tongue as you suck in. The smoke tastes more burnt than usual, the heat hitting your face as you realize the joint is almost out. 

“Another?” You look up at Wanda with wide eyes, feeling the muscles beneath your eyes contracting slightly as you squint against your will. She chuckles, the sound reverberating around the car before she grinds the end of the joint against the metal ashtray.

“No baby,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss you. “I want to suck on something else.”

“What-” You’re cut off when Wanda grinds her hips down harshly, reminding you of the aching hardness between your thighs. “Oh,” you say, a bit stupidly. 

The words feel weird on your tongue, your mouth not moving properly. So, you decide to do something else with your mouth instead, attaching it to Wanda’s neck and sucking. Her moans sound out, adding to the layers of fuzz building in your head while the blood in your body rushes down to your throbbing cock, her hips providing delicious friction as she grinds on your lap. 

You hear metal clinking, the sound cutting through the soft jazz and smoke, but you don’t have time to think about it before Wanda is grabbing your hands and wrapping something around them. The material bites into your skin slightly, and you let out a chuckle when Wanda finishes restraining you. 

“The seatbelt, really?”

Wanda smirks at you, pulling your hands above your head and attaching your seatbelt-wrapped wrists to the headrest. You’re not sure how she’s managed to effectively restrain you with the seatbelt strap, but when you test the restraints, you’re surprised at the limited movements you can make. 

The weight on your lap disappears, Wanda’s body shifting. You lazily look down, your muscles loose and movements slow. Somehow, your seat is shifted back until Wanda is able to fit herself on the floor, kneeling while she leans over your lap. 

Sharp teeth bite at your stomach, each jolt of pain sending heat directly to the tip of your cock. You can see it visibly straining through your pants, but Wanda makes no move to undo your zipper, her lips turned up into a smirk while she pulls your shirt up and begins leaving hickeys all over your hips and waist. 

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, throwing your head back and shifting your hips, rutting upward in search of any friction. Wanda carefully avoids your bulge, chuckling against your skin while her hands move to gently grab your chest. 

Your nipples stand at attention, pleasure blooming as the sensations cut through the haze in your mind. The only things you feel are Wanda’s teeth and hands, the rest of your body feeling disconnected as desperation fills you. 

“You’re so hot,” Wanda drawls, looking up at you with glassy eyes. Jazz fills your mind as blood rushes through your ears, your heartbeat loud as it pounds furiously in your chest. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

Her hands are warm, smoke shifting lazily through the air when she moves. Your pants are pulled down, a groan clawing its way out of your chest when you finally spring free, your cock pulsing at the thought of stimulation. You shift your hips again, seeing the dark look in Wanda’s eyes as she licks her lips before kissing your tip. 

“Fuck.”

You barely have any time to think before Wanda’s tongue is circling your tip, the stimulation teasing while you try to fuck further into her mouth. Hands grip your hips, pinning you to the seat, your face flushed as your head spins. 

Wanda loves how pathetic you look. Your head is thrown back, your eyes glassy and your pupils blown. You’re whining slightly, the sound wrapping around her head and sending pleasure shooting through her body. She loves how your body looks when you arch your back, your muscles trembling from the effort of chasing your pleasure. 

She wants you, her mouth feeling empty all of a sudden. With one last breath, Wanda seals her lips around the tip of your cock and sucks. 

You let out a loud moan, your hips jerking at the sensation. Wanda wastes no time, one hand gently fondling your balls while she takes you further in her mouth inch by inch. Her tongue works the underside of your shaft, licking your balls once she finally has your whole length in her mouth. 

Choking slightly as your tip hits the back of her throat, Wanda bobs back up, her tongue relentless as she licks the sensitive spot just under your tip. She bobs her head, taking your whole length in her mouth again, her cheeks hollowing while she sucks, swallowing around your length as it buries itself in her throat. 

“Yeah baby, just like that. Sucking my fucking dick so good.” You moan, pleasure filling you. Every sensation is heightened, the sound of Wanda sucking your cock filling the car as smoke swirls around her. You feel her moan, the vibrations causing your balls to tighten for a moment while your tip throbs at the back of her throat. 

Spit coats your length, smearing on her chin and dribbling out while she bobs her head up and down, your orgasm approaching. It’s filthy, her hand glistening when she wraps it around the base of your cock, stroking you slowly while she sucks. 

“I’m gonna cum.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Wanda growls, releasing the tip of your cock with a popping sound, panting as she takes you in. Her hand works your length, moving quicker while her other hand tightens around your balls. 

You whimper. “Baby, please.”

“I’m not done with you yet.” Wanda releases your cock, your length throbbing and twitching as it slaps onto your stomach. You can feel the combined juices of your precum and her spit as it smears over your lower stomach, your dick twitching every so often while you watch Wanda fumble with the clasp of her jeans. 

“Let’s smoke another joint while you fuck yourself with my cock,” you say, the idea popping into your mind. You speak the words quickly, your thoughts quieting again before you forget what you’ve spoken. Wanda’s eyes light up, and she leans over to kiss you solidly before grabbing the baggie of weed from the floor. 

Wanda moves quickly, her pants discarded as she straddles your hips, teasing the tip of your cock. She doesn’t move yet, just lets her juices run down the length of your shaft, your tip slightly pressing into her eager heat. 

A rolling paper is set out on your stomach, your abs flexing while you try to remain still. Wanda is focused, grinding on your tip with a teasing smile on her lips while her fingers move quickly. She rolls the joint in record speed, and before you know it she’s lighting the end and sucking in a full breath while sinking down on your length. 

You’re in heaven. 

Smoke fills the air again, the haze swirling about as Wanda lets out a low moan. She doesn’t move for a few seconds, her pussy walls clenching around you as she closes her eyes. Leaning back, she grabs one of your knees to support herself while bringing the joint to her lips again.

Then, she starts to move. 

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, your cock throbbing hotly as she lifts her hips only to sink back down. She grinds on you as she does so, her clit hitting the base of your cock perfectly with each movement of her hips. You can feel her arousal as she fucks herself, her juices coating your cock as she easily takes your whole length. 

Heat and pleasure fill you, Wanda’s hands grabbing your shoulders as she changes positions, fucking herself harder. It’s addicting, the sound of her moaning in your ear and the burn of smoke when she places the lit joint between your lips. Her fingers dig into your muscles, her hips trembling as she chases her orgasm. 

You can’t help but fuck up into her, loving the sound of your hips meeting hers while you thrust roughly. Her breaths are ragged, a low moan sounding out when you breathe in smoke, exhaling around the joint as you hold it between your lips. 

Everything is fuzzy. You feel a burning need in your stomach, warmth spreading throughout your whole body. Wanda is everywhere, her hands tangled in your hair, her lips on your skin and her pussy gripping you like she needs you to survive. One of her hands reaches down to rub her clit, and you take one last drag of the joint before she grabs it between nimble fingers and breathes deeply. 

“Gonna cum, baby,” she mutters, blowing smoke directly into your face. 

You nod, moaning low as her movements become erratic. She reaches down, her eyes glinting as she forces the joint between your lips. It’s almost out, the lit end flickering dimly as you breathe in, feeling your skin start to tingle. 

“Cum inside me,” Wanda whispers, smiling darkly at you as your cock throbs violently inside her at the words, her hand hovering over your chest. The lit end of the joint is hot and close to your skin, your heart racing as you begin to understand what her next move is.

“Hurt me,” you moan, your voice pleading as you continue to thrust up into her. Her hand moves quickly over her clit, her walls squeezing you as she begins to fall over the edge. Your skin burns, the lit end of the joint extinguishing on your chest as Wanda grinds it into you, her pupils blown while she moans. 

Her orgasm seems to last forever, a whispered command for you to cum sending you over the edge as pain and pleasure mix together. Your whole body seizes, your balls tightening as Wanda’s walls grip your cock, your hot cum spurting inside her. You feel nothing but warmth and pleasure, the slight burn on your chest amplifying every sensation as your head spins, Wanda’s tongue soothing the mark while she drops the joint in the ashtray.

“Good job, pet,” she murmurs, moving her hips as she fucks herself slowly on your length. Your cum seeps out of her, dripping onto you and smearing on your stomach. Wanda trembles, slowing completely before finally stopping, your cock buried deep inside her. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, every muscle in your body relaxing as your orgasm fades. You can feel your cock twitching, her warm walls gently squeezing you and keeping you hard. Your hands are released, Wanda’s lips kissing your wrists where the seatbelt dug into your skin. 

“I love seeing you like this,” she mumbles. 

You nod, knowing exactly what she means. Wanda loves control, and you love giving it to her. She craves being in charge of your pleasure, and you find it incredibly arousing to give your choice in the matter up to her. 

Wanda moves slowly, putting another rolling paper on your slightly damp stomach, your chest heaving from your orgasm. You don’t say anything, enjoying her presence as she prepares another joint. The smell wraps around you, vanilla mixing in the air as the haze lazily swirls about, jazz playing softly as you feel your cock start to harden again with each subtle shift of Wanda’s hips. It’s obscene, the way your cum and her arousal drip out of her, coating your length. 

You can’t focus on anything, your head fuzzy and warm as you feel your high pleasantly fill your body. Wanda lights the joint, the smell of freshly burning weed adding to the layers of sensations already present in the car. 

“Let’s finish this,” Wanda smirks, sucking more smoke into her lungs before placing the joint between your slack lips. You obey, taking a long, deep breath as her eyes darken at your submission. “I want you nice and pliant for me before we go again.”

Well, you certainly weren’t going to complain about that.

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[song-witch]

Someone Old, Someone New

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Agatha Harkness, Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal

Word Count: 4,591

Warnings: No Powers, adultery, divorce, pregnancy (Wanda), this is so angsty

Summary:

“I want a divorce.” Agatha breathed the words out, holding her hands tighter as if it would end what was happening. She wasn’t perfect. Neither of them were. That’s why they had worked so well.

“What?” Agatha hated just how upset Wanda looked. Absolutely… broken. And yet… The worst part was over. It had been a long divorce in the making.

“I want a divorce.” Agatha was firmer in her words, her eyes a sea of dark blue. Wanda’s green eyes blinked back at her, her hands going slack in the woman’s hold.

A/n: i can't reread this without crying so... hope yall enjoy !!

Agatha entered the room as quietly as possible, stopping the door before the hinges could squeak like she knew they would, eyes scanning quickly. Wanda was fast asleep, propped against the headboard with her legs crossed under her, hands holding her belly. Dread pooled in her stomach at the thought of the woman waiting up for her, but it was easily replaced by the adrenaline of the night still coursing through her. Rio. Rio, Rio, Rio. 

“Agatha?” Wanda’s tired voice flowed through the dimly lit room, making the brunette stop in her tracks. She had hoped to sneak in unnoticed, change in their bathroom and slip into bed without disturbing the redhead, considering how she had fallen asleep. Of fucking course, the redhead managed to screw up that plan.

“It’s just me, hon.” The pet name had her stomach churning in ways it hadn’t for a long, long time, disgust curling around her head. The worst part was; Wanda hadn’t done anything. Not counting getting pregnant, or marrying her, or falling for her in the first place, or- She had no reason to blame the redhead, not really, but she couldn’t blame herself. It’s not her fault who she falls for, or falls out of, for that matter.

“What took you so long?” And there was that god awful question. Wanda was good at that, asking what she didn’t want to hear. Speaking when she didn’t want to listen. Loving when she didn’t love back. Christ, she hated Wanda. Hated Rio. Hated herself. 

“Work ran late, accident on the way home. Off of Ninety-five.” Agatha kept her tone light, though she spoke through bared teeth. It was easy enough to head into their bathroom to change, needing the space to clear her mind. She kept the door cracked, once again slipping into her role of loving wife. She hated how often she did it, almost like Wanda had placed a spell on her, put her in a role she couldn’t escape. Except, she could. She could ask for a divorce now, tell the redhead she didn’t love her, hadn’t for months, maybe even years now, leave her with nothing and run off with Rio. If only…

“That’s terrible, baby. I hope everyone’s okay. I’m sorry work kept you so late again, I know how much you hate it.” And again, that woeful voice pulling her back to the present, right where she didn’t want to be. She should have taken Rio up on her offer, should have spent the night at her house. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so… so pitied.

Agatha only hummed in response, not caring if she was loud enough for the woman to hear or not. She’d be asleep soon enough anyways. It’s not like Agatha owed her anything. She had given her heart years ago, was that not enough? Clearly it wasn’t as the redhead began to talk again.

“Dinner’s in the fridge if you’re hungry. I made carbonara, there’s garlic bread on the counter to go with it. I didn’t have time to make it, but I picked up a boysenberry pie from that one place you like down the street.” She knew the redhead was stalling in an attempt to stay awake from the way her words were strewn together and beginning to slur together, occasional yawns accompanying her words. The worst part is that she knows how much Wanda dislikes said pie, despite how much she herself loved it. She wonders if Wanda knows. Knows she and Rio are… if she’s making her favorite meals in an attempt to keep Agatha all for herself. If she’s waiting for the right moment to rip them apart, to lawyer up and sue her to hell and back for her own personal entertainment. 

Agatha knows better, though. Knows Wanda’s too insecure for that. Especially now that she's pregnant. She thinks about the nursery. She still hadn’t gotten around to painting it, despite the persistent nagging from the younger woman. Maybe Wanda had done it herself, if she wasn’t still so cautious about every goddamn thing either one of them did. She wonders how they had ever clicked, considering just how different they seemed to be now. She laughs at the fact that they thought they were soulmates. That Wanda still thinks that.

It was simple enough to go through her routine and ignore the redhead, the faucet running a constant noise that helped to drown her out. She found herself comparing Wanda and Rio, especially in the early days of their relationship. Wanda had been so lively. Somehow both spontaneous and preplanning everything at the same time. Rio was so much more. Rio could do what Wanda couldn’t. Rio could go out to dinner without bringing up them or their future. Rio could say fuck you to anything and everything in favor of either one of them. Rio could make her day brighter just by being… Rio. Could fuck her, plain and simple. 

By the time she made it back into the bedroom, Wanda was laying down, facing the bathroom, though she seemed to be asleep. Once again, kept awake waiting for Agatha. The brunette could only scoff under her breath, pity rushing through her. Wanda was too wrapped up in herself to notice how Agatha would pull away first whenever they’d hug, always initiated by the redhead. Too wrapped up in this world of love they created long ago to notice how Agatha didn’t touch her anymore, how she was always the one giving and not receiving, per Agatha’s half-assed mumbles of being tired. She didn’t know how every time, she wasn’t thinking of Wanda. No, she was imagining someone else, eyes closed the entire time, even as Wanda spoke and touched her. 

The thoughts weighed her down as she slipped into bed, glaring at the wedding band that stayed in the jewelry dish Wanda had gifted her years ago, yet another thing she hated. She laid on her side, facing away from the redhead as she tugged the covers over herself, her mind working a mile a minute and somehow blanking at the same time.

“I love you.” Wanda mumbled as she rolled over, clearly with more difficulty than she used to, arms wrapping around the brunette’s waist. Well, as much as they could considering the growing bump that separated them. Agatha was almost thankful for that, silently glad that their child was already saving her in ways she could never tell them. 

“Love you too.” Agatha sighed out, something she could easily chalk up to being tired and not hatred, not bothering to cuddle into the redhead like she might have once had. Wanda’s forehead rested against the top of the back of her neck, a soft kiss placed there before her breathing evened out. Agatha couldn’t help but shiver at that, both in discontent and some awfully mangled version of the slight amount of love that still lingered in her heart for the younger woman, squeezing her eyes tight in hopes sleep would overcome her soon.

*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*

“Wanda, can we talk?” 

“Of course, baby. What’s up?” Wanda’s smiling as she sets her purse back on to the small side table she had picked it up from, her phone set next to it as she turns back to smile at Agatha and the woman couldn’t be more upset. This was going to ruin Wanda’s day. Her life, potentially. She’ll get over it. She watches as confusion works its way through the redhead’s face as she glances between her and sees Rio, her fingers circling her wedding ring. “Rio! I didn’t know you’d be joini-”

“Oh, please. Save the pleasantries for someone else.” Rio scoffed, an eye roll accompanying her less than kind tone, leaning against her hand as her head rolled with her eyes. Wanda’s fingers stop moving as she looks back towards her wife, shock evident in the way her mouth was slightly agape, as if looking for answers. Agatha could only grimace slightly yet not enough to actually do anything, instead urging the redhead towards the couch.

“Don’t mind her,” Agatha waved the brunette off as she continued to scowl in her chair, instead gently taking her wife’s elbow with as little contact as possible, “we need to talk.”

“Is everything okay, buttercup?” Wanda’s eyebrows knit together as she used the older woman’s hand and the arm of the couch to lower herself down, out of both concern and slight discomfort. Agatha intentionally kept her eyes on Rio, would tell Wanda she was making sure Rio listened if she asked. But she knew Wanda wouldn’t. Knew Wanda would sit prettily. Would listen as she spoke. Would cry at the inevitable. Oh well.

Agatha chose to kneel in front of the redhead, her back angled away from Rio, gently taking the woman’s hands into her own. It was the most touch she had initiated in weeks if not months. She thinks about how hands-on they had been when they met and even into the first few years of their marriage. How they could hardly make it out of the house, let alone leave the other alone once out. They had been so… obsessed with each other. Couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Bitterness washes over her at the thought that that’s how her relationship with Rio was. Both now and before Wanda. She couldn’t find it in her to care.

“Well,” Agatha found herself sighing, rubbing the girl’s knuckle’s with her thumbs. She had decided how long ago that they needed a divorce and yet she couldn’t even bring herself to say the words. Rio’s eyes on the back of her head weren’t helping. Her throat felt like it was full of cotton and she couldn’t even push the words out if she wanted to.

The room felt dead. All energy had been sucked out and replaced by solemness, a strange mix of heaviness and delight swirling through the air. Her heart felt heavy. She was nervous. She was never nervous. So why now? Well, for one, she was about to ask for a divorce. Not ask, tell. Tell Wanda they were getting a divorce and that would be that, lawyers be damned. And Wanda didn’t even know. Couldn’t prepare herself for it. Why did she care so much? She wouldn’t have to see her after this. Their child, sure, but not Wanda. 

“Jesus, get on with it already.” Rio scoffed from the chair. Looking back to glare at the woman, Agatha wants nothing more than to push her leg off the arm and back onto the floor, telling her to sit properly if she’s going to participate in their adult conversation. Or maybe… maybe she wants to ravish the woman then and there, make her wife watch and hope she gets the memo. Yeah, maybe that would be better. Rio did look extremely tempting in her slacks and white button up and her woody perfume and-

“On with what? What’s going on?” And Wanda was confused again, glancing between the women as if they were conspiring against her. She hates that she’s right. Little miss know-it-all strikes again. That son of a bitch. 

“Wanda, hun,” Agatha started, sucking in a deep breath even as her thoughts ran in circles, hoping the pet name would at least sugarcoat her words a little, “you know I love you very much.”

Wanda merely hummed in agreement, shifting her wrists to instead entangle their fingers. The move made the brunette grimace. Why did she have to choose now to be all lovey dovey. It was bullshit and they both knew it. Based on the look of concern on the woman’s face, maybe she didn’t. She once would have longed to reach out, take the redhead’s face in her hands and smooth the wrinkle between her eyebrows, tell her not to worry her pretty little head and that everything was okay. Had she been lying everytime she had said it? Had she set Wanda up from the very beginning? Had her heart always belonged to Rio? 

“And that I would never want to hurt you.” Agatha shook the thoughts away, struggling to refocus her attention on her wife. Her thoughts keep drifting back to Rio. Rio behind her watching them. Rio’s lips on hers just minutes before Wanda had come downstairs. Rio’s back pressed to the wall of their dining room after baiting her. Rio’s hands. Her hands in her hair, running up and down her sides, pressing hard into her hips, hard into her-

“Yes.” Wanda’s reassuring squeeze of their hands pulled her back to reality, that sick smile she had come to hate plastered across her face. She remembers how Wanda would ask her if she were reacting the ‘right way.’ Agatha had been confused at first; Wanda was going on 23, herself 31. She had thought it strange for the woman to ask her that; they had only been together for three months and yet the girl was hyper aware of every reaction she had. It had taken time to realize that Wanda had been behind the curve growing up in a country that wasn’t her home, trying her best to associate with others without having anyone. And though that had dissipated over the five years of their relationship, she could still picture the girl, quiet and yearning, softly asking if she was doing good in the late hours of the night. 

“I want a divorce.” The picture still bright in her head, Agatha breathed the words out, holding her hands tighter as if it would end what was happening. As if she weren’t the one who brought it up. As if she weren’t the villain. As if she were the victim. Though, neither was Wanda. She wasn’t perfect. Neither of them were. That’s why they had worked so well. 

“What?” Agatha hated just how upset Wanda looked. Absolutely… broken . And yet… And yet, a part of her rejoiced. The worst part was over. Now, it would be long before she was free. It had been a long divorce in the making. She hadn’t ever been free. Not really. 

“I want a divorce.” Agatha was firmer in her words, her eyes a sea of dark blue. Wanda’s green eyes blinked back at her, her hands going slack in the woman’s hold. And oh how she hated that she still needed the redhead in some twisted way.

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” Wanda shook her head, hands limp in Agatha’s, her eyes misty. Agatha could tell she was trying not to cry, trying to keep her ever changing hormones in check, act less upset than she was. She knew the inner turmoil the redhead was likely enduring, questions of what would happen, why, when, potentially who. 

“What’s there not to understand? Your wife doesn’t love you and wants a divorce, plain and simple.” Agatha almost wanted to smother Rio for the fact that she couldn’t fucking keep to herself for once, forcing herself into the conversation she wasn’t a part of. It wouldn’t be Rio if she didn’t cause some sort of chaos though, would it?

Agatha was turning towards the dark haired woman with a scowl, unintentionally pulling Wanda forward with her as her hands were still being gripped. “I don’t… Was it something I did?” 

“Look, Wanda, it’s not-” Agatha was turning back around before she could berate Rio, a pang of sadness running through her chest. She wanted to reprimand Rio more than she wanted to comfort her own wife. How fucked up was that? What would people think of her when they heard about this? When had she ever fucking cared?

“Did I… Did I say something wrong?" The redhead was clearly reaching for something. Trying to find anything that would serve as an explanation. Tears ran down her cheeks, though she seemed unbothered by them as she searched Agatha’s eyes. Attempting to find a trace of something.

“You didn’t say anything wrong, it’s just-” There was nothing Agatha could say that would reassure the woman. Well, besides maybe telling her it was a shitty joke and that she was still desperately in love with her. But that would be a lie. And despite knowing she was killing the woman, she couldn’t bring herself to lie to her as well. Maybe just a little, but not about love. No, they both had too much trauma to lie about that.

“Was it the pillows? I know you didn’t love them, but we can return them if, if-” Wanda’s voice was more apprehensive than she had heard in a long time, an undertone of pleading coloring her soft crying. She hated those pillows so much. They weren’t ugly, per se, but Wanda had picked them out just under a month ago. They were a deep green, matching the accent wall on the far side of the living room, square and so grossly homely. 

“It wasn’t the fucking pillows, will you just listen-” Agatha squeezed her hands as if that would make Wanda shut up. It was better than strangling her. 

“Jesus fuck, I can see why you’re over her. Won’t shut the fuck up for five seconds.” Rio scoffed and neither of them had to turn around to know she was rolling her eyes. Typical. 

“I- what?” Wanda shook her head. She was momentarily shocked, as if she couldn’t believe the words Rio had said. Agatha couldn’t blame her. They were downright mean, even for Rio. 

“Don’t listen to her. She’s not even supposed to be here right now, I was waiting for-” Instead of acknowledging the younger woman like Agatha knew she wanted, she turned her full attention back to Wanda, smoothing her thumbs over the veins in her hands. She deliberately avoided her wedding ring, praying Wanda wouldn’t notice. Knew she was too out of it to.

“You invited me over.” Rio interjected, a sly grin gracing her features. Almost if she knew she had won. In a way, she had. She had convinced Agatha enough to be in the position they were in. She hated the effect the woman had on her. Hated it so much she couldn’t get enough of it. Except for right now. 

“Rio! Would you stop interjecting so I can talk to my wife.” Agatha knew those were fighting words, knew how much more tense it would make the room. How pissed off it would make Rio. How sad it would make Wanda. How conflicted it would make herself. She didn’t care, though. 

“Was it-” Wanda cut herself off with a soft sob, as if it pained her to even think about what she would say next. She inhaled shakily once as she looked into Agatha’s eyes, her own fleeting between the two, as if she were steeling herself for what she was going to say. “Is it the baby? Does he- do they remind you of Nic-”

It was her own gasp cutting Wanda off, one she thinks is coupled with a noise similar from Rio. And Wanda was looking between them, some mix of fear and pure sadness so evident on her face it almost hurt. She hated that look. She had once sworn she’d never see the woman so dejected again. Yet… Yet here they are, with the redhead looking more broken than she had when Pietro had died.

“It’s not… It’s not the baby, not Nic-” Agatha dropped one of the woman’s hands in favor of cupping her cheek, her own eyes becoming misty at the accusation. Neither of them talked about him. The few times they had, had been filled with so much trust and tears. Wanda had been so worried when bringing up her desire for children that Agatha would up and leave her then and there. It had been quite the opposite whenever it had been brought up until the last year and a half. Wanda had wanted to be so sure that Agatha would be okay.

“Don’t ever talk about him like that. You don’t fucking deserve to talk about him at all, you fucking bitch!” Rio was looming over her so quickly that she was sure the woman had levitated, casting a dark shadow over the women. Her pointer finger jabbed at the redhead’s chest, fire blazing in her eyes. 

“Hey! You don’t fucking talk to her like that!” Agatha stood as a physical boundary between the two women. She knew Wanda wouldn’t do anything. Far too docile and timid to actually be of any threat, Rio however… Rio was a ball of bottled up emotions waiting to explode and now was not the time and Wanda was not the person. She was so fed up with her loveless marriage that she never thought she’d be defending the woman again, but Rio had absolutely no right to take it out on her.

“Oh, please. You don’t even like her! Who fucking cares how I talk to her?” Rio rolled her eyes with another scoff, clearly fed up. Agatha had told her so much about their relationship that it was entirely ridiculous that she would even care. If anything, she expected the older woman to be on her side. 

“You don’t get to disrespect my wife just because we’re getting divorced!” Agatha knew they were fighting words, knew they would twist the knife just a little more. There was no reason for Rio to be awful. 

“Please stop.” Wanda muttered pathetically behind her hands in a sad attempt at hiding her tears, body hunched over as the two fought. They didn’t pay her any attention, too caught up in their own world.

“You’re so fucking pathetic, oh my god.” Rio laughed. Straight up laughed in Agatha’s face, her voice low and dark in a stark contrast to the yelling just moments earlier. It sent shivers down her spine. 

“Me? I’m the pathetic one?” And Agatha was the one scoffing now. Because who was Rio to call her pathetic? Yes, she may have been cheating on her wife, but Rio was nowhere near perfect either. Death incarnated, as she used to say. 

“Yes!” Rio cried. 

“Please enlighten me, Rio. How am I pathetic?” Agatha gestured to the short amount of space between them, in a ‘the floor is yours’ motion. She almost wished she had popcorn for the theatrics of what she could only imagine the woman would say. 

“You’re defending your lousy ass wife, who you don’t even love by the way, considering you seemed to have forgotten that part!” Rio threw her arm out wildly, just barely missing Wanda’s head with her erratic movement. Had Wanda not been bent over as much as she could, she would have hit her. She knew Rio would’ve taken delight in that. 

“As if you’re any better.” Agatha crossed her arms, some mix of negative emotions swirling inside her. 

“Oh, really? Well, do enlighten me, Agatha, how am I not any better?” And if their back and forth couldn’t get any worse, Rio was scoffing again, the air hanging thickly with the threat baited in her words. 

“You can’t get over anything! You’re so fucking caught up in the past, you had to stoop down to my level to-” Rio stalked forward, jabbing her finger into the older woman’s chest, reminiscent of the way she had to the younger’s just minutes earlier. Agatha couldn’t go far, standing still as she leaned back.

“ENOUGH!” Wanda choked out through her tears, loud enough to stop the bickering between the two women but not quite yelling. No, her throat was constricting too much for that. Whether that was from crying or nausea based on the slight grey hue to her face, Agatha was unsure. Either way, it reminded her where she was, yelling at her lover while her wife sobbed to herself on the couch. God, she was so fucked up. She’d live.

“Wanda…” Agatha dropped back to her knees, one hand cupping the woman’s knee, the other hovering just inches away from her cheek. She didn’t know how her touch would comfort her, if her touch would comfort her. It had for years been something Wanda went out of her way to receive and she went out of her way to give. But now… now Wanda looked like a terrified little kitten, shaking and small, acting braver than she was. 

“Please don’t… Please don’t touch me.” Wanda’s voice trembled just as much as her hands did as she looked away, pushing the woman’s hand off of her knee. Agatha retracted it as if she had been burned. In a way, she had. She was the one rejecting Wanda, not the other way around. 

“Wanda, c’mon sugar, let’s talk this through.” Agatha attempted to grab one of her fleeting hands. Longed to pull it closer to her and kiss it, convince her it’d be okay. Despite them both knowing it’d be a lie. 

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna go… Gonna go.” Wanda mumbled softly as she stood, an eerily blank look in her eyes as she wrapped her cardigan more securely around herself, roughly wiping at her nose with her crumpled tissue. The sight made Agatha’s heart clench as she laid her hand where the redhead was just sitting, watching in silence as she waddled towards the garage door, reaching for her car keys with a soft cry. 

“Your jacket.” Agatha made a move to get up as the younger woman opened the door to the garage, her body hiccuping with hardly contained sobs. She didn’t make it past the couch before the door had closed, though, sudden sadness washing over her as Wanda clearly made sure the door didn’t slam as she closed it, knowing how it shook the house. 

Agatha stared for a long while before the car had pulled out of the driveway, not bothering to move as she knew Rio stood watching her, unknowing of where the redhead would go. She could feel her heart blackening, becoming even darker at how she had ruined the woman’s life. 

“Agatha-” 

“Not now, Rio.” Agatha muttered, not bothering to look at the woman. She turned away as a bony hand wrapped around her shoulder. She wasn’t in the mood for Rio’s pity. Her own arms wrapped around her middle, her right hand coming up to roll her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger. She was anxious and she didn’t even know why. Perhaps it was Rio’s looming presence behind her, the atmosphere of the place where she and Wanda had once shared so much love now dark and dim. 

“You’re the one who wanted to divorce her! Don’t ‘not now’ me.” Rio picked the stack of papers up from the coffee table, shoving them in the brunette’s face as if she needed a reminder of what had just happened. Her eyes lit up in anger, meeting the raven haired woman in rage.

“I said not now, Rio.” Agatha bit out, shoving the papers out of her face with a slight snarl. 

“Y’know what? Fuck this.” Rio threw the papers on the coffee table, breezing through the falling sheets towards the door. It was like a scene straight out of a movie with the amount of chaos the stack had caused, flurrying around Rio in a cacophony of noise, almost veiling the woman with how fast she was out of the house. The sounds didn’t stop with the slam of the front door. And despite the papers settling into silence, it washed over everything, leaving the house still.

And so Agatha was alone. Again. 

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

your fics and imagines are so fucking good <3

~cthulhus-curse

Thank you but pls don’t pretend to be Remi they deactivated a while ago 💀

[song-witch]

people are still doing that? 😭

[song-witch]

In The Dark

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Word Count: 2798

Warnings: Mafia AU. Alcohol. Pregnancy. Alluding to smut.

A/N: I've had this fic on the docket for so long, so here it is. lmk if i missed anything!

Wanda sighed for what felt like the millionth time that night, letting her eyes flutter open. Her hands limply dragged across the duvet, a gesture that had become second nature as her pregnancy progressed, as if it would soothe both hers and the baby’s restlessness. There was no point in trying to sleep if it wouldn’t come. She was unsure if it was due to her own anxiousness or the babies, though it did just about as much good to dwell on it as it did to try and sleep. The sound of the screen door banging shut followed by the heavy front door pulled her out of her reverie, her entire body freezing for a moment.

“Baby?” Wanda called out, reclining her head back so her voice hopefully reached the entryway; thickly swallowing. The house was quiet besides the sound of someone moving around. With a frown, she turned over her left shoulder, her eyebrows furrowing at the bright ‘3:46 am’ from the digital clock glowing back at her in a dreadful shade of neon red. Forgoing both the lamp on the nightstand and her slippers, Wanda made her way to the bedroom door, one hand on the knob and the other against the door as she pressed her ear to the wood. 

Her heart beat faster from the sound of silence, biting her lip. She had options here. She could open the door, confront whoever was in the kitchen, pray to something that it was Natasha or someone she sent, and happily go back to bed. She could go lay back down, ignore whoever was in the house, and stay in a puddle of fear until something happened. Her last option was sliding shoes on, opening the door, and bolting out the back door. That somehow felt like an overreaction – like how whoever was in their home would have heard her and come to collect collateral damage. Given her struggle with sleeping throughout the entire night, the second option would be dumb as well. Instead she was left with the first option, confronting the intruder. 

Despite the Nat in her head telling her to pick the third option, she opened the door, heart simultaneously dropping to a pit in her stomach, somersaulting, and jumping to her throat, before repeating in that order. The brunette carefully listened to the sound of a glass clinking against the kitchen table, followed by a cabinet door closing, its eerie thud echoing into the hall. 

This only served to confuse her further, prompting her to exit the bedroom and slowly walk down the hallway, sticking against the wall. She chose to keep the lights off, knowing that if something went wrong, she knew the layout of her home without the lights on which would give her an upper hand against a potentially dangerous intruder – yet another thing Nat taught her. 

The soft yellow light of the kitchen spilled out into the living room, not entirely unusual as Wanda always left the light above the sink on when Nat was working late. The sound of people talking, presumably two men based on the deep tones, ringing through the space. By the time she made it to the living room, she was beginning to question her choice of approaching whoever was in the kitchen having a drink, glancing around the shadowed part of the living room in something akin to despair. The best she could do was grab a throw pillow, knowing the lamps would cause too much racket and hung photo frames wouldn’t do much. She held the pillow in front of her, as if the steel blue pillow smaller than her pregnant stomach was as intimidating as an actual weapon. 

With a deep breath, the brunette turned the corner, raising the pillow in front of her head, cowering just slightly. She waited, and waited, and waited. Nothing happened. No sound, movement, nothing but stillness. Breath still held in her chest, she slowly lowered her weapon of choice, squinting over the seam of it. 

“Nat?” The brunette dropped the pillow in favor of pursuing the other woman, a shaking breath leaving her chest as tears filled her eyes. She paid no attention to the men sitting at the dining table, time seemingly moving in slow motion as she stepped over the pillow, arms already subconsciously reaching upwards to wrap around the redhead’s neck. Natasha stood silently with a look thrown at the men, her whiskey glass hitting the table with the same resounding ‘clunk’ it had earlier, meeting the younger woman in an embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The redhead mumbled against the brunette’s hair, pressing a kiss where her forehead met her hairline. She resisted the urge to smooth her hair down, more than aware of her men watching them. Wanda’s chin shook against where it was hidden in the junction of the older’s neck, sobs barely contained with deep breaths. 

“Where were you?” She just barely managed to keep her voice even and maybe even a little serious, her emotions running rampant. She wanted to yell at her wife, sob, ravish her, and yell some more. Instead, she pulled back, one hand swiping at her eyes while the other continued to twist the baby hairs at the top of the redhead’s neck between her fingers.

“Did Carol not call you?” Natasha looked down at her with a no-nonsense look, her arms still wrapped, albeit loosely, around her waist.

“N-no,” Wanda shook her head, wiping her sleeve under her nose, “N-no one did. I thought you we-were dead.” The word alone brought unwanted tears to her eyes, gasping in a breath. It was something she hated doing; worrying about Nat returning home any day of the week, especially after an exchange like today. She hated always being on the edge of her seat, waiting for the call that her wife was in critical condition or she was downright gone. And yet, she continued to love and in turn be loved by Nat, willing to live with that fear. Now that they had a baby on the way though, she was beginning to question that decision. 

“I can assure you I’m very much alive, love.” Natasha chuckled, the rasp that had Wanda swooning over her after their first-ever interaction thickly coating her words. Yet, Wanda didn’t laugh like she normally would, frowning even more. 

“It’s n-not funny, Nat!” Wanda watched as Nat winced slightly at the sheer shrillness of her voice, though she couldn’t care less. She crossed her arms on top of her stomach, resisting the urge to poke at Nat’s chest to further her point. 

“I know. I’m sorry, baby.” With a sigh similar to Wanda’s earlier she pulled the woman back into her chest, softly rubbing her back. Natasha fully expected Wanda to pull away, to lecture her on how unfair it was to her, as if she didn’t understand. She did the opposite, though, melting into the embrace with a sob. 

“I d-don’t… I- we can’t lose you, Nat.” Wanda blubbered into her neck, grasping at the fabric of the redhead’s shirt with balled fists. She allowed herself to cry, beyond caring about what the men in the room would think, letting her wife rock them softly. 

At the questioning glances from Steve and Bucky, along with them softly murmuring to each other, Nat nodded. She momentarily stopped rubbing circles into the brunette’s back to raise a finger, circling it twice in the air as a silent command to secure the perimeter before they left before letting it drop to its original position. She let the younger cry, softly shushing her as her sobs grew into a volume that Natasha could only describe as painful. By the time Wanda had calmed down, both men had left, leaving the two alone for the first time in far too many days. “I’ve got you, Wanda. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” The redhead pulled back gently, forcing her wife to look her in the eyes. Wanda hiccuped as she searched Nat’s face, dropping her shirt to cup her cheeks, as if she needed to confirm the redhead was real. 

“I love you so much, Wanda. You of all people should know you won’t get rid of me that easily.” With a softness that was reserved for only Wanda, Nat swiped the woman’s tears away, pressing twin kisses beneath her eyes. 

“I love you too, Nat.” Wanda’s voice shook as she leaned up, softly pressing her lips against the chapped ones of her wife. She didn’t mind though, as it only further confirmed that she was in fact standing there with her, alive and healthy as can be. Natasha kissed back as, if not more, fervently than the brunette, sliding her hands under the fabric of a shirt Wanda must have pulled from somewhere deep in the closet. Even just the slightest touch had her melting and whimpering into her mouth, deepening the kiss with a swipe of her tongue against Nat’s lips. Nat all but easily obliged, trying to pull the brunette impossibly closer against her body. Wanda went easily, humming softly as they explored one another, as if they hadn’t numerous times before. Her hands smoothed everywhere on the redhead’s face, a sense of urgency taking control.

Before they could get any further, though, Wanda pulled away with a slight gasp, taking in deep breaths. “Is everything okay? Is the baby alright?” The redhead’s right hand curved around the woman’s waist to rest on her stomach, concern written across her features. Had she not been through a whirlwind of emotions, Wanda would have smiled at how concerned she was, instead the corners of her lips just barely raised. 

“We’re okay. I think he’s upset that his mama wasn’t going to come home for a bedtime story.” Wanda fixed her wife with a stern look, raising an eyebrow. She didn’t mean for it to be as snarky as it had been, but she felt the older deserved it after not contacting her for days on end. She would’ve been fine if one of the members had so much as texted her, yet nothing. Almost as if the baby was agreeing with her, it kicked where Nat’s hand was resting. If there was one thing that was certain about their child, they wouldn’t be afraid to speak their mind. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. She thinks it's bedtime.” Natasha rolled her eyes, though a smirk pulled at her features. She could hardly be upset with the brunette. It had been nearly a whole week since she had been home, let alone been in contact with the woman. Had it been two years ago, she wouldn’t have cared. Would have left the brunette to wallow in her own disdain and anger for far longer without a care in the world. Now though, she couldn’t do that. Couldn’t leave her wife for more than a week, even before she was pregnant. It almost made her emotional to see just how far they had come. Almost. 

“He, Nat. Our baby is a boy.” Wanda shook her head, a fond smile tugging at her lips. She’d be damned if their baby turned out to be a girl. Months of being wrong and the redhead would only become cockier. 

“And how do you know? For all it’s worth, sprout could be an actual sprout.” Nat shot back, raising an eyebrow as she moved away from the brunette. She downed the rest of her drink easily, swiping the back of her hand against her mouth with a satisfying sigh. Knowing how much it irked the younger to leave her dishes out, she deposited in the sink, with a silent promise of washing it the next day, moving towards the cabinet in the back corner to put the Whiskey back in its case. 

“Unless that turkey baster was filled with something else, I highly doubt there’s a plant inside of me.” Wanda crossed her arms over her belly, both eyebrows raised and her lips pushed slightly forward, as if willing the older to test her. Nat chortled at that, stopping in the middle of the kitchen to fully take in the joke. Her hands landed on her hips, smiling at the younger. 

“That was a good one, baby. I wouldn’t be so convinced though, based on how much watermelon I’ve bought in the last two weeks alone.” She fixed the woman with a cocky smile, padding towards her. Despite her joking tone, Wanda looked at her incredulously, nearly scoffing at her. 

“Keep talking, Nat. You won’t be laughing when you’re left high and dry until he’s born.” She merely shrugged, more than willing to stick to her words and deal with the consequences of them if it meant Nat listened. 

“You wouldn’t.” Natasha’s face set, her smile dropping, eyes squinting. Despite the fact that she herself was the one who managed their relationship for a good chunk of it, she knew how stubborn the brunette could be. She just hoped she was joking, for the sake of both of them. She was met with another shrug, neither confirming nor denying her claim. Natasha only sighed in response, dropping their teasing altogether and instead wrapping an arm around the brunette, turning the light off as they began towards their room.

The house was quiet as the two made their way to the bedroom, the darkness of the house still washing out the hallway. It was easy enough to fall in step next to one another, a move written into their muscle memory, if not their biology at that point. Tension pulled between the two of them, apparent as they each approached their own side of the bed. With the grace of something similar to a toddler, Wanda sat on the edge of the king mattress, quietly observing her wife. 

Natasha moved around the room silently, shedding her weapons in various drawers, her path methodical and obviously walked before. She paid no attention to the brunette’s eyes following her around the space, nor did she see how tight-strung she was, her back rigid and eyes glossed over. And yet, she could still feel it. Though she did nothing but carry out the little routine she had, changing into something far more suitable for pajamas than dress pants and a crisp, buttoned shirt, locking herself in the bathroom to finish up.

Wanda pursed her lips at the sound of the en suite locking, dragging her feet up and under the covers. Humming, she reached for the glass of water on her nightstand, sipping the beverage in the dim light of bathroom light spilling out from around the door. She took her time, listening to her spouse rummage around. It was funny just how domestic it all felt, how the boss of a mafia that spent her free time killing people could be so… soft. 

There was a time when she thought she would never leave what she had considered this godforsaken bedroom, tied to a bed that wasn’t hers and stripped of every joy she had ever known. Yet, here she was, free to roam wherever she wanted, with a wife who doted on her like there was no tomorrow, the shimmer of love in her eyes. It made her want to laugh at how ironic the whole thing was. How could she, a small-town girl with a bad attitude, end up with one of the wealthiest people in a whole nother country, pregnant with their child? Arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back to reality, setting her glass down before looking at the redhead.

“Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.” Natasha’s raspy voice vibrated against her stomach, head perched on the topmost swell of it. Wanda allowed her hand to drop so she could hold the redhead’s face, tilting her head just slightly. 

“Just… thinking.” She smiled softly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She met the woman’s eyes, holding them even as the urge to look away grew stronger. 

“Talk to me, Wanda.” Nat urged gently, a softness much like the one earlier shining through. Wanda lived for these moments, yearned for them. The moments in between, the ones no one bats an eye at, yet, everyone longs for. 

“You know I love you?” 

It was less of a question and more insecurity, uncertainty momentarily crossing her features. At this, Nat’s expression mirrored her earlier one, confusion on her face cocked to the side. 

“And I love you.” The redhead decided to play along, though she had no idea where the brunette was going. She watched as the younger blinked, her eyes clouded with skepticism and something else. 

“Show me. Show me how much you love me.”

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

Hello I was just wondering when chapter 2 of Careful creatures will drop! If there will be a chapter 2 at all, (I really hope there will be)

Ope, not me dropping off the face of the planet fic writing wise. The depreseeion really gets to you. Anyways, here's FINALLY, Chapter Two 💚💜❤️

Careful Creatures: Chapter Two

Ship(s): Hela x Agatha, Agatha x Wanda, Wanda x Hela, Hela x Agatha x Wanda

Summary: Three powerful beings broken down back to the start somehow find themselves brought together as they relearn themselves and each other.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: angst, descriptions of being burnt, mild gore, mention of sexual assault/non-con/rape, abuse of alcohol/alcoholism/addiction, amnesia, split personality but make it ✨magic✨

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI!

A/N: Please READ THE WARNINGS before proceeding. If this were on AO3 it would be rated E for explicit material later on in the series, and M for mature material for the heavy content this story deals with.

Hela groans, her head pounding.

The second thing she registers is how much pain the rest of her body is in.

“Sh…” A soft, sweet voice soothes. “You're going to be okay, let me finish cleaning out your wounds.”

Distrust immediately floods the goddess, but her limbs hardly even respond to her internal command, her fingers twitching pathetically as she tries to call forth for her twin blades.

She can't even get her eyes to open.

When a cool cloth is pressed against one of her numerous burns, she nearly whimpers, the pain cutting sharply through the duller agony she is in.

“I know it probably hurts.” The sweet voice says, tone gentle and quiet. “But at least it hopefully won't get infected. I don't know if you're awake or not, but I hope you can hear me either way and that it's helping.” A pause. “I like helping people, I think. It feels… That feels familiar.”

Hela’s head hurts too much for her to decipher what the voice means by that, and instead focuses on the rhythmic motions the cloth is making over her cracked and blistered skin.

More than anything, once the sharp bite of pain fades, the coolingness of it soothes the way Hela still feels as if her skin is aflame, burning and burning and burning.

An unconscious whine slips from her lips when there's a pause, and the sweet voice shushes her again.

“I'm just dipping it into the water again. I'm trying to be very careful, these wounds look pretty bad.”

Hela has enough of her thoughts together to keep herself from whining again, but just barely.

Her lips do part in a throaty sigh of relief as she feels the cloth once more resuming its motions across her heated skin, but the action makes her aware of just how thirsty she is.

“W’er.” She attempts to croak out.

It hurts. Her throat hurts so bad, like the rest of her.

“Hm?” The voice hums in question.

“Wa-er.” Hela tries to carefully pronounce, but her tongue and mouth are so dry, she can't get the ‘t’ sound out.

“Oh, yes! Of course.” The sweet voice sounds… Embarrassed, perhaps? “Let me prop you up, so you don't choke.”

Hela nearly whimpers again as soft hands grasp at her, her skin still feeling as if it's on fire, and the pain spikes as she's manhandled into a more upright position.

How low she has fallen.

No family, no friends, no allies.

None but whoever the voice belongs to.

When water drips down onto her lips, she parts them and greedily sucks down the water being tipped into her mouth.

It hurts to swallow, but everything will hurt worse if she doesn't.

A sigh of relief expels itself after a few minutes, and Hela can feel her head loll back.

“You can rest.” The voice says. “I won't leave.”

Distrusting as Hela generally is, she has no choice but to trust.

If she wasn't suddenly flooded with exhaustion, she would be furious at how helpless she has become.

As it is though, she can barely conjure two words in her mind to string together.

She falls back to darkness.

—»•«—

She leans against the kitchen counter, letting the other woman ransack the cabinets in search of coffee as she smiles viciously, enjoying the enraged yelling coming from the other room.

“Seriously, where's the coffee.”

“You'd have better luck just grabbing a beer, dear.” She replies. “Or a cooler.”

Darcy Lewis lets out an exasperated sigh.

“You can drop the flirty neighbor routine, I just saw you beat up, like, six different guys.”

Agatha huffs, and doesn't deign to respond.

Ralph shouts another threat.

“You're gonna have to do something else with him. You can't just keep him tied up forever.”

Agatha shrugs carelessly.

“Take him into custody for all I care.”

“Oh, um. I don't exactly work with S.W.O.R.D. anymore. Or… Any government branch.” Darcy mumbles.

She quirks a brow, and Darcy blushes harder.

“They might've put Dickward into prison, but they said that crashing a vehicle into him was ‘reckless’ and ‘needlessly risky’.”

“Of course they did.” Agatha snorts. “This is why I've stayed under the radar.”

“You mean until you thought trying to kill a wanted fugitive was gonna be beneficial for you.”

The older woman scowls.

“That was not what I was trying to do.”

“Sure looked like it.”

Agatha scowls harder and distinctly does not look in the direction of any alcohol.

…

Fuck.

She pushes herself away from the counter and opens the freezer, pulling out a margarita mix pack.

“Um.” Darcy sounds a bit startled, looking up from where she's crouched, victoriously clutching at the canister of coffee she finally found. “Do you really think more alcohol is a good idea?”

She ignores the other woman, and wobbles a little as she begins to walk around the kitchen, pulling the various things she needs to make the drink to her liking.

“Agatha..?”

“Agnes, hot stuff! I don't know why people keep trying to call me Agatha!” She smiles brightly, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Darcy seems frozen while Agnes whirls around the kitchen, determinedly ignoring the shouting coming from the other room.

The bubbly woman continues to smile with false brightness as she places the finishing touches on her drink, shrugging good-naturedly when Darcy shakes her head at the offered second glass Agnes holds out to her.

“More for me, dear!” She laughs, before taking a long drink from the first.

“I, um… Hot water?” Darcy asks weakly.

Agnes’s face shifts into a slight scowl that's gone almost as soon as it appears.

“You'll have to boil a pot.” Her tone is pointedly not cheery, and she drains the first cup of alcohol in her hand before moving on to the second.

Darcy steps in her way when she moves to grab another mix.

“I don't think more is a good idea.” The other woman says, flinching nervously as Ralph bellows again.

Agnes trembles slightly and tries not to let her anger get the best of her.

Being angry meant making mistakes and making mistakes meant getting punished.

“It's just a little something to help with the day!” Agnes attempts.

“How about some coffee instead?” Darcy offers.

Agnes does truly scowl now, and she crosses her arms.

“You’re in my home, dear.”

Darcy latches on to that.

“Yeah, exactly. I'm your guest. It wouldn't be polite of you to get smashed while I'm here.”

Agnes’s scowl deepens for a split second before a forced smile returns to her face.

“You're right, hon! I'll take some coffee too if that's what you want to have. Just make mine an Irish.” Agnes throws in a wink for good measure.

Ralph yells a string of crude words from the other room and both women exchange a glance.

“Maybe we should gag him,” Darcy suggests.

Agnes shudders.

“I– no. No, thank you, dear. I don't want my fingers anywhere near his mouth.”

Darcy very clearly decides not to ask.

Not that Agnes would have answered.

Ralph… Well, he is her husband.

Her husband who gave his friends permission to have sex with her. Who didn't care if she wanted that or not.

Agnes hisses with pain as a stabbing pain shoots across her head, right behind her left eye.

“I… I think I'm going to go lay down for a spell, dear.” She mumbles, not completely aware of her surroundings anymore. “I suddenly don't feel so well.”

Agnes doesn't know if Darcy answers her or not. Her ears are buzzing too much to.

—»•«—

…an…y…u…e…ar…me…?

—»•«—

Wanda sits and watches the mysterious woman diligently, her eyes roving over the places where her outfit is torn and burnt.

Pale skin is marred by angry red, and in some cases, a blackened soot color that only causes her to feel nauseated with guilt and fear.

She doesn't know why.

Raven locks, shining nearly blue, are a knotted, tangled mess, the long, straight strands seemingly determined to create a bird’s nest.

Wanda doesn't doubt that well taken care of, her mystery woman would be very, very beautiful.

Her heart twists painfully, and she scowls.

Her memory refuses to return, but not the echoes of the emotions. It's impossible for Wanda to make sense of what she's feeling without the memories attached to why she would be inclined to feel a certain way about any specific thing.

It's stupid.

She groans and thunks her head gently back against the tree trunk she's sitting against.

She hopes the pale woman wakes up again soon.

Wanda is beginning to feel restless, a creeping dread slowly overcoming her.

She doesn't know why, only that something in her, deep down, is pushing her, tugging her feet somewhere not here.

[song-witch]

RAHHHH PART TWO PART TWO PART TWO PART TWO

[maximotts]

Are you just doing x reader drabbles? Because like 84 sorority Wanda and frat Natasha. “This is a one time thing” ahuh whatever you say bbgirl

hello hello here's your thing! It got to be like, twice as long as expected but that's okay!!

cw: 18+, minors dni; smut, soft dubcon, touchy Natasha, light spanking, oral from behind (w receiving), a hint of nerdy Wanda if you squint

“Nat.” Wanda called, the barest hint of warning in her voice, so little that Natasha had no qualms with ignoring it.

She didn’t miss a beat, sliding Wanda’s too tight gym shorts from her hips, catching the hem of her underwear and removing them in one fell swoop. When the brunette sent a text declaring her incoming arrival a few hours ago, Natasha assumed she’d end up in bed with the girl— just not like this. Wanda surprised her with needing a place to take her Russian Literature quiz, claiming both that her fellow sorority sisters were being too rowdy at her place and her distaste with walking across campus to the library for a simple online module.

But now she faced an unexpected distraction: Natasha’s constantly roaming hands. “Natasha…”

If Natasha heard Wanda, she was good at feigning ignorance, keeping her spot on her knees between Wanda’s legs, exploring her impossibly soft thighs with calloused hands. By all standards, she considered herself gracious, letting Wanda set up her bed, books sprawled around while she laid on her stomach in front of her laptop. She’d kept her hands to herself until now, even given Wanda answers to parts of the quiz; Natasha held out as long as she could.

“Natasha, stop it.” Wanda drew the line as Natasha’s warm breath hit the small of her back; she had no hope finishing her assignment if the other girl continued on. Not that her body agreed with her decision, the experimental touches drawing her attention much more than the last five questions on the screen in front of her.

The redhead pouted, an action Wanda would’ve been oblivious too if it hadn’t been accompanied with an indignant huff. Wanda might’ve been stubborn, but she was more predictable than she thought; even as she stood her ground, Natasha grazed one finger over the juncture of her legs and she twitched. “But if I stop, you’ll just lay here and make my duvet sticky.”

“I would not!” The protest was strong, but Wanda cursed her counterpart for being right, having been subtly rolling her hips into the mattress since Nat first sat next to her and started sneaking in those treacherous touches. And so what if she had; today was the last day to finish her quiz and Natasha be damned, she never missed a deadline. “Can’t you go play your game in the corner? I’m almost done.”

“Aww, but I’m playing with you right now, baby,” Natasha grinned, giving Wanda’s backside a painfully hard squeeze. She fell silent in favor of kissing over the round globes of Wanda’s ass almost reverently, covering the expanse of skin as dutifully as the brunette was typing. She took her time, savoring both the lack of resistance and clear frustration the girl under her fought with.

She thought she could deal with it, focus long enough to complete the last quiz question, but of course it had to be an essay question… just as Natasha nibbled along the crease where her ass curved into her thigh. It was so sudden and sharp Wanda didn’t think about hiding her shriek, “Tasha, please! I can’t think!”

In their months as whatever they were, Nat survived multiple kicks and elbows when she happened to push Wanda too far; a squeaky plea more desperate than dangerous didn’t fool her for a second. She wasn’t a bit surprised when she pushed Wanda’s knees up as easy as she would a doll’s, not a defiant push or shove to be found. “I’m only helping, princess. How are you gonna focus when you’re so needy?”

“I was focusing just fine without your help!” The tail end of her sentence fell off into a yelp, the sharp sting of Natasha’s open palm striking her proffered ass. Spanking was a fairly new thing to Wanda, not that she didn’t know what it was, but being on the receiving end… she liked it more than she’d yet admitted.

As if Natasha couldn’t tell after the first time she had her over her knee and was left with a whimpering mess.

She’d only done it now to watch Wanda’s thighs twitch, her sex now completely devoid of friction as she stayed in the air. Nat couldn’t wait any longer, had to get her mouth on the object of her own desire. She dived down, bending deep to kiss the other girl’s mound. “I’ll finish your stupid quiz for you later, just let me taste you.”

“Don’t you understand the word no,” Wanda sighed, well aware she was done for as Natasha’s tongue slid through her folds. As soon as she found her clit, Wanda was rocking back onto her mouth, spreading her legs further just to feel more. She knew she looked wanton, sounded just the same with all her moans, arms sweeping away her laptop to stretch them out and scramble for something to hold. “Would’ve been done by now if you weren’t so horny all the time.”

“You’re the one who came over looking good enough to eat, not my fault,” her voice was muffled, speaking an afterthought to sucking the sensitive bud into her mouth, sucking and slurping lewdly as Wanda’s back arched into the bed below. It didn’t take long for Wanda to drip down Natasha’s chin, hot and messy. “Fuck, I’ll finish your entire course this semester if I can taste this sweet pussy.”

“T-This is a one time thing… ‘m not a cheater-” Wanda prided herself in her good grades, earned all on her hard work alone. Natasha wasn’t the first person to offer their academic services, but she surely was the most convincing. She felt akin to a live-wire, her entire being shuddering each time the rough surface of Nat’s tongue dragged over her most sensitive areas. This was the first time she’d been taken from behind, but she knew better than to believe her own words that it’d be the last.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to work too hard to give Natasha a reason to fuck her.

“Inside… want your mouth..” Nat uttered a strained groan at Wanda’s request, licking the length of her one last time before backing up just enough to change course, sinking her tongue into Wanda’s waiting entrance.

Wanda wasted no time fucking herself on Natasha’s mouth, fingers curling into the sheets as she panted out her need. “Oh god, yes! Just like that, don’t move-!”

The redhead complied, perfectly content to let Wanda lose herself atop her, stiff fingers patting her full thighs to encourage the brunette on. Curling her tongue was Wanda’s downfall, thick muscle teasing her walls and forcing her over the edge. She held Wanda still, trapping her as she writhed and jerked, catching her name amidst Wanda’s cries and selfishly hoping anyone passing by the room could hear them. “Still want this just once, Wands?”

“Shut up and fuck me properly,” Wanda muttered, wiggling her ass against Natasha who was already pushing her sweatpants out of the way. One look back at her not-exactly girlfriend and the generous strap on set at her hips and Wanda knew this too would end up more than a one time thing. “I’d better get a perfect score on my quiz or I won’t suck you off until the next one comes around.”

[song-witch]

I'M SOO TOTALLY NORMAL ABOUT THEM

[song-witch]

Firefighter nat x nurse wanda , please? 🥺🥺

hi yes whatever i post next will be ffn x nw! i just need to know if people would like a story story or a blurb or one shot!

[song-witch]

what wip should i work on

firefighter nat x nurse wanda

prof nat x student wanda

actress wanda

something else?? (open to ideas)

Voting ended onMar 22, 2024

[song-witch]

do you guys want my late valentines day ffn x nw fic or something different? open to suggestions 🫶

[song-witch]

what wip should i work on

firefighter nat x nurse wanda

prof nat x student wanda

actress wanda

something else?? (open to ideas)

Voting ended onMar 22, 2024

[song-witch]

Fill Me Up, Buttercup

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,467

Warnings: Southern Mommy Wanda. Fluff. Smut. Fingering (R receiving). Phone Sex (kinda?).

A/N: i don't like this but oh wellsies

Part One Part Two

“Well, howdy there, stranger.” Wanda hollered into the phone, a new smile crossing her lips.

It was more of a smirk, the right side of her smile lifting higher than the left. The opposite eyebrow raised, though it was mostly covered by the way her bangs fell over her forehead.

You could hardly focus on it, though, far too enraptured by the rather generous view her negligee gave you. She wasn’t wearing a bra, that much was evident, as they moved in time with her breathing and the movements of her hand. It was hypnotizing to say the least. You were glad she was holding your hand though, your other grasping the bed, limiting your temptation of reaching out.

Wanda’s hand moving up had you moaning, not caring about the phone on your chest. The woman above you had morals, though, and stopped moving her hand altogether, pulling a whimper from your throat.

“Sorry hun, Y/n tripped over the dresser. Poor girl is so tired from her big day.” She tutted, a glare thrown your way. It was accompanied by a harsh shush under her breath. It made you shudder, your breath caught in your throat at the prospect of her stopping. Despite the dread that filled your stomach, you clenched around her fingers, just barely able to keep any sound from slipping out.

"Are you alright, darlin’?” Wanda added just moments later, clearly as a means to convince the woman on the phone that you were actually injured and not being, well… fucked. That didn’t stop her from mouthing words at you, just barely loud enough to hear the wispy ends of her letters.

“Quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want your team hearing you, huh?” The woman pouted, sticking her bottom lip out just slightly.

You groaned softly, shaking your head in agreement. You still had no idea who she was calling or hell, even why she was on the phone while, well, knuckles deep in you, but if it made her happy, you’d do it.

“Good.” Wanda smirked before turning her attention back to the phone, her fingers twitching inside of you. It wasn’t enough, though, even as you began to shimmy your hips down, hoping she’d take some mercy on you. You had to hold back a gasp as she curled the very tips of her fingers, more than aware of the silent threat behind her words.

Once again, you closed your eyes, resting your head against the pillow as you let your body sink down onto the mattress. It was all you could do, as you couldn’t make any noise and you were too tired to even think about doing something to be punished.

The brunette made a clicking noise with her tongue, prompting you to look back up at her. She shook her head. You knew she wanted your eyes opened, based on how she widened her own. You let your head fall onto the pillow, whimpering softly as you maintained eye contact.

“You wanna say hi, hon? Of course! I mean, how rude of us to leave without so much as a goodbye!” Wanda’s voice was an air of giddiness you knew was half real half fake, a dash of something… adventurous in the sweet tang of her accent.

You cocked your head just slightly, eyebrows furrowing, teeth clenched together. It wasn’t the only thing clenching as the older woman continued to thrust into you.

"Say hi, baby.” The brunette smiled brightly at you, curling her fingers just right into you. The noises she pulled out of you were pathetic to say the least, little whines accompanying your gasps of air. You prayed that she hadn’t gotten her phone fixed from when she dropped it in the sink while soaking dishes. At least then, the mic on the damn thing would still be shitty.

“Hi.” It took three full lungfuls of air before you responded, a stillness in the air. Wanda wasn’t still by any means though, and kept her fingers thrusting at a slow but steady pace. It wasn’t enough to make you come, but fuck was she good with her fingers.

“Hiya theres, toots. Say, you keep giving speeches like that and I’d be the one dragging you home!” The voice was so familiar and even comforting to your ears, but your mind was so foggy that it was hard to think of who it was. You could picture her, though. Brown hair. Tall. Taller than both you and Wanda. Your book. She worked on your book. Edited it. Fuck.

“Well? What do you say, baby?” Wanda’s voice had turned from that sugar filled honey to a new kind of sweetness. She knew what she was doing. She only smiled as she thrust even harder, her thumb just barely swiping over your clit. You all but moaned, arching your back into the touch.

“T-Thank you.” You whimpered, biting harshly on your tongue. Wanda shook her head, stopping her fingers momentarily to pull her hand out of yours, brushing her free thumb over your lip. You pushed your head to the side just slightly, desperately trying not to close your eyes. It was hard, to say the least.

Wanda’s eyes were unnerving, though and, as much as most nights you wouldn't mind being bent over her knee, you were certain you'd break before she even touched you. Hell, she was more than touching you and you were seconds away from being overwhelmed.

"You okay there, sugar? Sounds like someone's a little worn out.” Wanda pouted, her lips pulled down into a frown that had her words mimicking her face. Your chest heaved under her, pulling deep breaths in and forcing them out slowly. You could only hope the woman would take pity on you.

“I-I’m okay. Tired.” You whimpered as Wanda’s fingers shiftly ever so slightly, tilting your hips up in an attempt to accommodate them. The brunette dragged her thumb back over your bottom lip, resting it there as she watched your mouth stay open. You let your jaw drop just slightly. You hadn’t noticed just how tense it had been. She was eerily good at making you realize things.

"She's just too cute. But I'll let you go, toots, this car isn't going to drive itself!” Agatha’s voice had you nearly weeping in relief, more than ready for this damn phone call to be over.

Wanda cooed, propelling her thumb forward enough to push past your lips, to which you happily obliged. You were sucking before you even thought about it, whimpering as her other fingers began moving once again.

“Have a good night, Agatha. Let us know when you get home.” Wanda’s entire body seemed to soften, her eyes squinting just slightly.

She looked at you as if you were her most valuable treasure, which, in some ways, you were. She had never ceased to brag about how lucky she was to find you, no matter how much you argued it was the other way around.

“Will do, hon. Tell Y/N I’ll see her later.” You weren’t even paying attention to the conversation at this point, your vision becoming fuzzy as you blinked up at Wanda. Her fingers reached up to splay against your check, rivaling the slow thrusts into you. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hips bucking softly.

“Alright, buh-bye now.” Wanda spoke softly, a chuckle being pulled from her throat. You whined softly at the sound. She talked at you lovingly, her fingers dancing across your cheek as you continued to suck.

“That wasn't so hard now, was it, doll?” The softness of her voice continued to lull you, though your hips continued to move with her fingers.

You whimpered again, nodding at her words. She hummed under her breath as she gently took her thumb out of your mouth, instead running her fingers, sans thumb, through your hair. She merely shushed you when you whined at the loss.

“Open your eyes for me, love.” Her finger didn’t stop, a soft kiss being pressed against your forehead. She didn’t move as you began to open your eyes, her scent wafting over you. It was that earthy lavender you loved so much. She had sprayed it on your shirt that morning before leaving for “work,” knowing you’d need the support more than ever, not that she’d tell you what she had done.

"You’re so good for me, baby.” The woman’s voice deepened, a raspiness returning to it. You blinked softly at what you could see. A blush spread from your cheeks to your neck as the only thing you could see were her breasts through her negligee. You tilted your head up, attempting to seal your lips together with a whine as your hips started circling slowly.

“Mommy, please.” You whimpered against her lips, your hand she had left on the pillow snaking down to grasp onto the thin strap of her pajama top. You weren’t entirely sure what you were ever asking for. Just that you needed her. She seemed to understand, kissing back feverishly. It had your head spinning even more, gasping for breath before she was kissing your neck.

“You wanna cum, sweetheart?” Wanda murmured in your ear before pulling away, a smirk pulling across her lips once again. You nodded as fast as you could with how dazed you were. Your pointer finger slid between her shoulder and shirt strap, wanting nothing more than to pull it down and suck. The thought alone sent a thrill down your spine.

“Eyes up, sweetheart.” Wanda tsked, her tone playful as a smile spread across her lips. You weren’t worried about her catching you staring; it wouldn’t be the first or last time, and you had caught the other woman doing the same plenty of times. If anything, it was only fair you got to, too. You complied though, your mouth dropping open in a slight pant at the sight of her. As soon as your eyes met hers, her grin widened, a thrust accompanying the look.

"Now, wasn’t that nice? Agatha callin’ to check up on you, pumpkin.” The woman pursed her lips together, her tone the same sticky sweet she used to tease you. There was nothing you could do to stop the moan that had been growing during the call from coming out, tossing your head back.

Wanda began thrusting into you with earnest, pushing a third finger in while simultaneously pulling your hand off of her. A continuous moan was bubbling out of your throat, a keening tone to it. Your body rocked in time with her hand, hips tilting up to meet her thrusts.

Everything inside you felt like it was on fire; from the way your forehead was covered in sweat, to the way your stomach tightened. Both you and Wanda knew it wouldn’t take much to make you cum.

“Mommy, mommy-” You began chanting the word over and over again, a particularly hard thrust forcing you to moan through an inhale. Your knees tried to lock behind her leg, thighs squeezing around her wrist.

Normally, she’d be pulling her hand away entirely, slapping your legs and pussy before reprimanding you because ‘you know better than that.’ The thought had you immediately parting your legs, though you clenched her fingers harder.

“You’re okay, sweet pea. Come for me, darlin’ girl.” Wanda’s lips returned to your forehead, kisses pressed against the sweaty skin. Your hips spasmed erratically as you chased your high, a string of unintelligible words leaving your mouth. Her thumb drew methodical circles on your clit, and you knew you were done for. Her fingers and thumb moved even faster as you ground down, your mouth opening and closing. Your back arched, pressing your bodies together.

“Oh my, oh my-” You cut yourself off with a cry, knowing that so much as another thrust would send you tumbling over the edge. Your fingers curled into the bedspread even tighter, holding on for dear life. Wanda’s thrusts got faster, repeatedly hitting the spot that made everything in you clench around her fingers. Her thumb came down on your clit, rubbing harsh circles into it.

“Let go, sweetheart. Mommy’s got you.” Wanda cooed, her voice completely contrasting her actions. There was nothing you could do other than to let it happen, your body tensing as you did what she said. You tossed your head back, letting out a high pitched wail as your orgasm washed over you, your body arching off the bed. Wanda continued to thrust, letting you ride the high out as she helped you through it.

“Shh, that’s my good girl. Mommy’s good little girl.” Wanda spoke softly as you came down from your high, her face suddenly much closer to yours as she hovered above you. Her fingers were still inside you, albeit hardly moving as you panted, eyes shut. Your hips jerked as waves of aftershock coursed through you. Wanda only shushed you, though, gently pressing her hips down to urge you back onto the bed.

“You did so good, baby. Mommy’s precious little girl.” You whined as she pulled her fingers out of you, your walls desperately clenching against nothing. You forced a deep breath out of you as you fully relaxed against the bed, your eyes fluttering open. It took all of two seconds before Wanda was kissing you. You sloppily kissed her back, easily letting her take full control.

You lazily made out for who knows how long, Wanda forcing you to finally unwind after your day. It wasn’t long before she was urging you up though, easily maneuvering you into the bathroom, encouraging you to use it before she cleaned you up.

As much as you would’ve loved nothing more than to sleep, Wanda’s concerns about you being fully taken care of and not developing an infection far outweighed your need to sleep. Besides, it meant she’d carry you back to bed before redressing you. A win was a win.

You were nodding off as she pulled you onto her chest, nestling your head against her neck. Everything about her enveloping her had you sighing, squirming just slightly against her body. You bit your lip, sluggishly tracing your hand down her body, playing with the elastic of her shorts. “Mommy, you-”

“Sleep, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day. Little girls need their rest.” Wanda easily pulled your hand from her pelvis, instead letting it rest against the side of her chest that you weren’t lying on.

More often than not, you would’ve protested. Would’ve told her she took care of you too much and she deserved to cum too. You were too worn out though, and instead obliged, pushing your face further into her neck. She hummed softly, fingers combing through your hair as you easily drifted to sleep.

[song-witch]

someone come be gay in my inbox

[song-witch]

need someone who'll do puzzles with me and let me YAP

[song-witch]

guys i have a tumblr crush 🤭🤭

[song-witch]

starting chapter four todayyy

[song-witch]

i wish there was a fandom for a chorus line