author’s note: silly drabble that has been on my mind for a long time… and I probably have a silly dacryphilia kink…
Pairing: Emo Wanda x Gender Neutral Reader
warning (s): Sub Emo Wanda x Top Gender Neutral Reader, lots of dacryphilia, gentle sex, reader has a cock, emotional sex, reassurances, crying through all of it, smallest angst if you squint.
———•.
“It’s okay sweetheart. Take your time.” You whisper so very gently against Wanda’s ear, kissing behind the lobe of her ear.
You trace your fingers so gently along her spine, silently admiring your girlfriend.
Her eyes, usually that shade of green you love so much, bright as stars, were now completely focused on your penis, hard against her belly.
"I just... I need to prepare myself..." Wanda whispers in such a sweet and insecure tone that you smile slightly, caressing her flushed face.
“Of course, dear. Whatever you need." Even though you and her have done this at least a billion times, Wanda still got so shy, so insecure as if she wasn't 100% sure of what to do next.
You admire her normally pale skin, now with a beautiful reddish blush that makes your pupils dilate. The tips of her ears, her cheeks, her neck... Everything in such a beautiful shade of pink that you can't help but move, kissing her skin tenderly.
"My beautiful girl..." Whispering against her fragrant skin, you can feel the shivers running through Wanda's body. She was ready.
Her hand delicately takes your cock, caressing the reddened crown gently. She looks at you with those wide green eyes, now practically consumed by her dilated pupil.
"That's right, darling..." Wanda's thighs flex slightly beside you, until she slowly rises, taking great care as she begins to fit you inside her.
Her sweet pussy was as hot and wet as always. It wasn't very difficult for Wanda to get aroused. You could feel her clitoris now more prominent, gently touching your stomach. The small contact is enough to make Wanda whimper.
"It's so big..." Wanda whispers, biting her lower lip. She hasn't taken it all, not yet, but she's so close that you have to resist the strong urge to just bend her down and fuck her the way you want.
"I know, love, but you can take it all." You give small kisses on her bare shoulder, feeling Wanda's trembling fingers trying to anchor themselves in the hair at the nape of your neck.
When she finally goes all the way down on your cock, she immediately whimpers, shaking her head, clearly lost in the delicious sensation of being so full, and the slight stretch her internal muscles have to make to accommodate you.
"It's very..." Your hands gently hold Wanda's hips, impressions sinking into her soft flesh very gently. "I..."
"Shh... Calm down, dear." You caress her cheek, watching Wanda slowly open her eyes to meet yours. They are shining with unshed tears, and you can't help but smile affectionately.
She hasn't even moved yet and she's already like this, crumbling so easily. A single touch and your girlfriend turns into a mess.
"You are so perfect, Wands..." The affectionate nickname slips easily from your lips, hands pulling her pliable body until she can feel her sweet breasts against your own chest. "Taking all of me, you are perfect, love..."
Wanda looks at you, sniffing softly, tears finally falling from her beautiful eyes in quick succession. She moves until she is practically glued to your body, moaning softly as she feels your cock moving inside her.
This happens more often than she would like. She simply can't help it. The feeling of being loved like this, held like this, makes her feel important. Necessary. In a way she had never felt before, especially after losing everything she loved so much.
You let her cry as always, knowing that she needed to vent her complicated feelings. Your lips delicately moved against her neck, feeling small drops of salt from her tears running.
"I am good..." You hear Wanda whisper tremulously, and you are not sure if she is affirming herself, or if she needs to hear you say it once more.
"You are perfect, my little witch." You gently guide her movements, holding her hips as you begin to move your cock inside her, letting her feel your penetrations.
Wanda somehow cries even more with your words, and she looks perfect like that. You cradle your hand against her dark hair, and she immediately wraps her hands around your neck.
You neither speed up nor slow down your thrusts. The rhythm is languid, the slow thrusts making her feel how deep you are inside her.
"My Wanda..." A whisper escapes your lips, and Wanda sniffs as she continues to cry. She moves until she finds your lips, letting you take control of the kiss easily.
You smile as you entwine your tongue with hers, gently kissing her. You can feel small tears against your skin, but you don't mind.
Your thumb moves between your bodies, easily finding Wanda's hypersensitive clitoris. You move it in small circles, listening to her sweet whimpers and moans against your own lips.
Before you can even increase the speed a little, you feel a liquid splattering. She’s so easy to please, one right touch and she melts into a puddle. The vision makes you smile, and somehow her crying gets even a little more intense.
She screams as she cum, and you admire her open lips, the tears still falling over her sharp jawline. The overstimulation is almost enough to tire her body, but she refuses it. She needs more. Needs to know that you aren’t leaving. That you need her. That you love her.
“My love… So perfect.” Wanda cries against your neck, hiding her reddened face against the crook of your skin.
“S-So good…” She says still sniffling, her legs trembling due to the intensity of her squirt. You can feel the sheets wet underneath your bodies, but you ignore it for now. Her hips start move again, not resisting to ride your cock, even though she’s still feeling sensible. “I’m y-yours…”
“Yes you are. Mine.” You answer on the same tone, letting Wanda free to do whatever she needs now. Admiring her crying face, you can’t help but smirk gently when her big eyes open, shining on the tears that won’t stop falling so soon, and the deep satisfaction of feeling you like that.
Her slender arms hug your neck, just wishing more. More of you fucking her. More of you kissing her tears. More of your gentle reassurances. More of your kisses. More of you.
Summary: Wanda flies home with her brother to accompany him to his high school reunion in place of his wife who fell sick. One night at a bar, Wanda has a chance encounter with a stranger who charms and seduces her. After spending the night together in Wanda's childhood home, Pietro runs into the stranger and finds out her meeting with his sister wasn't much of a chance encounter at all.
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Tags: 18+ Minors DNI, top!reader, bottom!wanda, oral sex (Wanda receiving), fingering (Wanda receiving), spanking, choking, barely there anal play, hair pulling, manhandling, rough sex, mentions of bullying, social anxiety, implied cheating
A/n: Inspired by this
Wanda let out a sigh and waved her hand at the bartender who didn’t even need to ask as he took a bottle of whiskey and refilled Wanda’s glass.
She was back in Westview for a stupid high school reunion at a school she didn’t even go to. Pietro forced her to come after his wife got sick and was unable to attend. Wanda worked so hard to get out of Westview, and even being back here for just three days was already bringing up a bunch of unwanted memories.
Her brother’s high school was having their reunion in two days, while her school was having its reunion three days after. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Even being in Westview was putting her at risk of running into her old classmates. She thought she was doing amazing now, but that didn’t mean she wanted to run into anyone from her old school.
Her anxiety was at an all time high. The best day of her life was when she graduated high school because she was finally able to leave and have a new start. What in the world made her brother think she’d want to go back when all her old classmates would be going back as well?
At first she thought it wasn’t going to be all bad. All she had to do was stay home the entire time they were there. She didn’t have to risk going out and accidentally running into someone from her old school; that part was completely avoidable.
Then her brother decided, that night, that he was going to meet up with all his old friends earlier than they planned. What was the point of the reunion then? Now, Wanda should have just stayed back home with her parents, but they were having their friends over for a weekly game night, and she wasn’t really interested in having them force her to join them just because she was an adult now.
So here she was, sitting alone at a bar and praying to god that none of her old classmates walked in, even though Wanda wasn’t even religious.
“You look like you’re having a great night.” Wanda furrowed her eyebrows and turned to her right where the voice came from.
Her eyes widened when she saw an incredibly beautiful woman leaning against the bar with a smile that almost made Wanda melt in her seat. She didn’t think it was possible for someone as gorgeous as her to exist in Westview, because she certainly doesn’t remember ever seeing someone this beautiful when she lived here.
“Would you mind if I joined you? I heard misery loves company.” The woman asked in a sweet tone with a tilt of her head. Wanda found that she didn’t quite have the proper words to say to this woman, so she dumbly nodded her head instead of risking saying something stupid.
Though that seemed to be enough, because the woman’s smile widened at her wordless response. Her eyes looked down to the bar and she nodded at Wanda as sort of a sign of respect.
“Whiskey, huh? To be honest, at first glance, you seemed like the fruity cocktail type of person to me. Which isn’t bad, but I’m pleasantly surprised.” The woman said as she pushed herself off the bar and went to take a seat.
It was normal bar etiquette to leave at least one seat in between each person sitting at the bar unless it was completely full, but this woman disregarded that rule completely and went to sit on the stool right next to Wanda on her left.
“I’ll have the same.” She said to the bartender once she got his attention, gesturing over to Wanda which made the bartender nod and hand her a glass, filling it up with Whiskey.
The woman thanked the man and took a sip before turning to Wanda, that same charming and heart-melting smile gracing her lips. Wanda was far too taken by her beauty, which was making her stand out from the rest of the dark patrons in that dingy bar, to realize that she’s been staring dumbfounded this entire time.
“Am I distracting you?” The way her smile turned into a teasing one made Wanda finally snap out of her daze.
She could feel her face begin to heat up in embarrassment once she realized that the woman was aware that she was staring because of her features, and she wanted to melt once more, this time six feet into the ground.
“N-No! You’re not distracting at all.” Wanda stammered in embarrassment, making the woman laugh through her nose in amusement.
“Well, I’m glad to have your attention now.” Her voice was smooth and her tone was confident, but not in a smug way. Everything from her posture, to her smile, and down to her tone; Wanda could tell that this woman knew of the effect she had on people, and she didn’t mind one bit.
Something about that made Wanda very nervous, whether it be from intimidation or from something else entirely. The alcohol in her system and the weirdly gorgeous woman in front of her was preventing her from thinking straight, so she didn’t know what that something else was quite yet.
“Or not. It seems I distracted you again.” The woman said with a laugh that made Wanda’s heart flutter, and she had to take a sharp intake of breath to stop herself from making more of a fool of herself than she already has.
“I am so sorry, I’m being so rude right now just staring at you like you’re some object to gawk at.” Wanda rambled on embarrassedly with a nervous laugh as she reached for her drink and took a large sip. She was bad enough with regular people alone, but it’s like Wanda has completely forgotten how to interact with people now that she’s faced with someone so attractive.
“Well, I happen to find your eyes very pretty, so I don’t exactly mind having you gawk at me.” She said, making Wanda laugh because she didn’t know how else to respond.
She then froze when the woman leaned forward, their noses were practically touching from the lack of space. Wanda found herself completely clueless on what to do. She was completely still because the woman’s sparkling eyes were staring right into the depths of her soul.
“It’s a very beautiful shade of green.” The woman said before leaning back and sending Wanda a polite smile. Wanda took another sip of her drink. Though gulp was probably the more appropriate word.
“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” She said with a bat of her eyelashes as she held her hand out to Wanda. She didn’t know why she was so surprised at how soft Y/n’s hands were, because why wouldn’t they be?
“Wanda Maximoff.” A slow smile made its way onto Y/n’s face and she tilted her head at Wanda, squeezing her hand before slipping it out of her grasp, her fingers lingering on hers for a moment before they pulled away, lightly brushing against Wanda’s hand and making goosebumps appear on her arms.
“Maximoff.” She said slowly, as if to test the name on her tongue, then resting her elbow against the bar before leaning her cheek against her fist.
“I haven’t heard that name in so long.” Wanda may have been near drunk and completely allured by how slow and sultry Y/n’s voice was when she said those words, but her last functioning half brain cell still had the capability of making her confused by the statement.
“You must be Pietro’s wife then?” Y/n said, with a tilt at the end of her sentence, making it into a question instead of a statement as if she wasn’t quite sure. The comment made Wanda scrunch her face up in disgust.
“No, he’s my brother. Twin brother actually.” Wanda said and Y/n’s eyebrows raised in surprise at her response.
“Oh? I didn’t know he had a sister, let alone a twin. That explains the uncanniness in appearance though.” Y/n said, looking like she was connecting the dots in her head to make sure. Wanda could see the exact moment she was as another smile appeared on her face.
“I’m guessing you’re the prettier twin, then?” Y/n asked, sending Wanda a playful look with a slight pout sitting on her lips. The comment made Wanda momentarily forget about the fact that this stranger knew her brother as another nervous laugh left her mouth. She needs to stop doing that.
“People usually call him that.” Wanda said and a small “huh” left Y/n’s lips as the hand she was resting her cheek on went to grab her whiskey.
“Well,” Y/n said as she looked down to slightly swirl her whiskey before looking up at Wanda through her eyelashes, “People are usually wrong.” She said as she took a long sip of her wine without breaking eye contact with Wanda.
Wanda had never made anyone look so intensely at her like that before, and it made her gulp down nervously. When she finished drinking, Y/n smiled at Wanda and raised her eyebrows at her, before returning to her position from earlier with her cheek resting against her fist. Everything she was doing was so casual, but it made Wanda’s heart race and her brain malfunction.
But Wanda needed to get it together. There was still the matter of this woman knowing who her brother was even though Wanda has never seen her before in her life.
“How do you know my brother?” Wanda asked the other woman and a small smile appeared on her face.
“We were… “Acquaintances” in high school.” She talked slowly every time she spoke. It made Y/n seem sophisticated and like she was sure of everything she was saying, adding to the confident air that completely surrounded her.
“Oh, are you attending the reunion?” It would make sense why Wanda didn’t know her then.
“Yes, actually. I thought it would be a good way to catch up with some classmates I lost touch with after graduating.” Y/n said and Wanda was about to speak again when Y/n’s hand dropped and laid itself on the bar top.
Her hand was dangerously close to Wanda’s hand; so close that Wanda was sure that if she stretched her fingers, it would touch hers. Y/n lifted her other hand and rested it on her wrist before adjusting herself in her seat so her side was leaning against the bar.
“It’s weird that I don’t know about you though. Your brother was quite the heartthrob in high school. Since you’re his twin, it’s only natural that you’d be the talk of the school. But I never heard of a Wanda Maximoff until tonight.” Y/n said, her finger tracing the wood patterns of the bar, causing Wanda’s eyes to be glued to it, her breath catching in her throat every time it came close to grazing against her.
When Y/n’s finger stopped, Wanda realized that she hadn't said anything in response to what Y/n said. She stammered for a moment and directed her attention back to Y/n. God, she was such a mess tonight. Alcohol and beautiful people didn’t mix well with her social anxiety and generally bad social skills.
“M-My brother got the scholarship to Xavier’s while I went to Midtown.” Wanda explained distractedly and Y/n let out a hum in thought as a response.
“I bet you were the most popular girl in the entire school then.” Another awkward left Wanda’s lips, but this one was weaker than the last ones.
“No, uh… Quite the opposite actually.” Wanda said, and for the first time since she sat down, Y/n looked unsure. She thought to herself for a moment before her eyebrows raised in surprise, a light chuckle of disbelief leaving her mouth while she shook her head. She leaned forward, moving her hand and carefully letting it rest on Wanda’s hand.
“Don’t tell me you were bullied.” Y/n said and Wanda inhaled deeply, moving her hand away and wiping them against her jeans as she turned her eyes to the ground in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, I should have phrased that better.” Y/n started with a genuine apologetic tone. “I wasn’t laughing at you.” Her tone was reserved, and when Wanda looked back up at her, the smile and warmth on her face disappeared and was replaced with a more neutral expression.
When their eyes met though, her eyes softened a bit as a soft sigh left her lips. “How could I laugh at someone who shares the same experiences as me?” Y/n asked and Wanda’s eyes widened once she realized what she was saying.
“No.” Wanda said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Y/n who laughed once more.
“I’m being honest, I swear.” She said in a flattered tone, but Wanda still wasn’t convinced.
“But you look so…” Wanda said as she looked Y/n up and down. No way someone like her could get bullied in high school. In fact, she looked like someone who would be a part of the group that bullied her.
“Well, I didn’t always look like this. I was a bit of a late bloomer. But if I can get someone like you to look at me like that, then things must have worked out in the end.” Y/n with a wink as a smirk appeared on her face, making Wanda’s face heat up once more.
“I really don’t mean to stare so much.” Wanda admitted in embarrassment, but thankfully, Y/n didn’t laugh or look bothered. If she did, Wanda would have died right there.
“Like I said, I don’t mind. Your staring just makes me feel better about my staring.” Wanda’s jaw slackened a bit in shock at the words, and they lowered even further when Y/n’s eyes began to roam her body, slowly moving up and down; taking her sweet time to take in every curve and dip on Wanda’s figure, not bothering to hide her blatant staring before lifting her eyes to meet Wanda’s.
“You’re exactly the type of person I would’ve had a crush on in high school. I’m starting to doubt that you and Pietro are twins, because he’s not even half as pretty as you are.” Thank god Wanda was already seated, because had she been standing otherwise, her knees would have given out and she would have fallen to the ground.
“I’ve never heard that one before.” Everyone always favored Pietro. It was only natural. Wanda loved her brother, and so did everyone else. He was charming and always knew what to say; it was hard to hate him.
He was the better looking twin, the smarter twin, the more successful twin, the funnier twin; she’s heard it all before. Wanda was used to hearing about how much her brother was better, along with the silent implication of how she was less. That’s just how it’s been this whole time. Wanda was used to living in her brother’s shadow.
But this gorgeous, confident, and charming woman was sitting in front of her, blatantly checking her out, was throwing all these compliments at her, and basically eye fucking her in the middle of this bar. Not to mention the fact that she had just told her that she thought she was better than her brother, when she probably knew him more since they literally just met.
Her brother, the one who had the super fast and expensive car, the supermodel wife, the high paying low effort job, the huge house, who has been deemed the better Maximoff twin their whole lives, was nothing to this beautiful specimen of a woman.
There were very few moments in Wanda’s life where she felt genuinely confident in herself. And it may be due to the alcohol or the anxiousness in her body that made it hard for her to think, but at that moment… She felt good.
“How about I show you instead?” Y/n said as she leaned forward and carefully inched her hand towards Wanda’s leg. She looked up at Wanda with an innocently questioning look, waiting for any sign of resignation, fear, or anything of the sort in Wanda’s features.
But Wanda was still, save for her chest which was moving heavily up and down with her staggering breath. She bit her lip slightly and stared back into Y/n’s eyes, hands twitching and fidgeting in anticipation.
When there was no sign of protest, Y/n placed her hand on Wanda’s knee before leaning her face forward. The closer she got, the higher her hand traveled up her leg. Y/n stopped when her mouth was right next to Wanda’s ear, hand sliding into Wanda’s inner thigh and giving it a light squeeze, causing Wanda to squirm where she sat.
“...Will you let me?” What happened from that point was a complete blur for Wanda.
She vaguely remembers nodding in response and Y/n sending her that mind blinding smile of hers before she grabbed her by the hand and dragged her out of the bar. Wanda wasn’t even sure if they had paid for their drinks, but she didn’t have room in her brain to think about that, because the entire drive to her house in Y/n’s car was spent with Wanda struggling to tell Y/n directions due to the hand that was moving up and down her thigh.
When they entered her house, Wanda let out a sigh of relief when she saw that her parents, along with their friends, were nowhere in sight. All the lights were off, but Wanda could vaguely see the empty beer cans spilling out of the trash can in the kitchen.
A gasp left Wanda’s mouth when she felt an arm snake around her waist, roughly pulling her backwards until her back was pressed against Y/n’s front. Y/n lined her face against the side of Wanda’s head and took a deep breath in through her nose. A slow and shaky exhale left her mouth from the scent of Wanda’s hair before she started peppering kisses down her cheek, to her jaw, and up and down the length of her neck.
Wanda leaned her head back, hand reaching up to the back of Y/n’s head to pull her closer while her other hand placed it over the one that was resting over her waist. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure when Y/n started sucking on her skin right where jaw met her neck below her ear, a low and guttural moan leaving her mouth. Y/n pulled away and shushed Wanda teasingly, urging her to be quiet as she pressed her body tighter against hers.
“We wouldn’t want to wake up your parents now, would we, Wanda?” Y/n spoke into Wanda’s ear, her voice low and husky as her free hand started making its way under Wanda’s blouse.
Wanda felt her breath catch in her throat when Y/n’s cold hands met her skin. Her soft hands slowly moved up from her stomach, completely disregarding Wanda’s bra and easily slipping underneath it. Her fingers spread wide before grasping onto Wanda’s breast, rolling her nipple in between her index and middle finger.
“What would your mother and father say if they came down here and saw their daughter letting herself get touched like this under their roof?” Y/n asked as she took Wanda’s nipple in her index finger and thumb, pinching hard and tugging at it while she attached her lips on the space behind her ear.
Wanda pursed her lips and shut her eyes tight, forcing her groan down but ultimately failing. It was then that she felt something pressing up against her ass when Y/n began to slowly grind her front against her back. When she realized it was a bulge, her mind was sent into a flurry, and all attempts of keeping quiet disappeared as a long moan left Wanda’s lips, turning into a gasp when Y/n thrusted into her.
Unable to contain herself, Wanda turned around and placed her hands against the side of Y/n’s face, pulling her into her until their lips met while jumping up and wrapping her legs around her waist. Y/n was quick to catch her, hands holding onto Wanda’s thighs until they moved up.
Y/n pushed back against Wanda’s lips roughly while her hands squeezed Wanda’s ass, relishing in the way Wanda was groaning into her lips. Wanda then pulled away, hand remaining on Y/n’s cheeks while she stared deeply into those eyes that had her heart stuck in her throat despite how dark it was.
“My parents basically fall into comas after drinking. They won’t know a thing.” She knew this because Pietro used to always bring girls over, yet her parents were convinced he lost his virginity in college. A wicked grin slowly made its way onto Y/n’s face.
“We better make the most of this then.” Y/n said, hand going to the back of Wanda’s neck and pulling her in for another searing kiss.
Wanda let her legs fall back to the ground, reluctantly pulling away from the kiss and grabbing Y/n’s hand as she started leading her over to the stairs. She barely even made it up the first step when Y/n made her turn around by pulling her back. Before she could even react, Wanda was being pressed against the wall and being pulled into another kiss.
One of Y/n’s hands was placed on the wall above Wanda’s head while the other was holding onto the side of her neck. Meanwhile, Wanda’s hands were busy running themselves up and down Y/n’s torso, taking in the shape of her body before wrapping her arms around Y/n’s neck and pulling her towards her as close as she possibly could.
Their kiss was messy, too desperate to feel each other’s lips and tongues against their skin to care about where they were aiming. With the tiniest bit of focus she could muster, Wanda started walking backwards up the stairs with Y/n following after her. Their mouths never left each other, and their hands never stopped roaming each other’s bodies despite how dangerous it was.
Proving their point, Wanda’s foot slipped on the step she took, causing her to fall backwards. Y/n was quick to place her hand behind Wanda’s head so she wouldn’t hurt herself, but she didn’t give her a chance to recover and process the fall as she leaned over her and started kissing up and down her neck.
A groan left Wanda’s mouth when she felt Y/n’s hips grinding against her, hands reaching behind her and scratching at her clothed back. Y/n’s shirt began to become untucked from Wanda’s tugging and scratching, making her hands grab Wanda’s legs from the back of her knees before pulling her against her.
Wanda gasped, her arms immediately wrapping themselves around Y/n’s neck and holding her close as she felt herself be lifted up from the stairs. She bit her lip, feeling herself grow lightheaded when the bulge in between Y/n’s legs brushed up against her core at just the perfect place, making her desperately grind against it while Y/n brought them up the stairs.
“First door… Left.” Wanda said breathlessly as she pulled back and connected her lips with Y/n. She could feel Y/n’s tongue shoot into her mouth, prodding and fighting against her own and making her moan into the kiss.
When her back pressed against the door, Wanda let her legs drop again while she reached for the doorknob. The moment her hand grabbed ahold of it, she twisted it open and grabbed Y/n by the collar, pulling her into the room with her before pushing her up against the now closed door.
Y/n grunted as she was pushed back against the door once more when Wanda connected their lips. One hand grabbed her by the waist while the one went up from her neck to the back of her head, letting Wanda’s hair fall between the gaps of her fingers, then closing them into a fist. She pulled Wanda’s head back and attached her lips onto Wanda’s next, mouth roaming messily until she found her pulse point.
Wanda groaned, her fingernails digging into Y/n’s shoulder, only urging Y/n to suck harder. As she did though, Y/n opened her eyes and did a quick scan of the room.
There were two twin size beds, one next to a window on the left while the other was against the wall on the right. Based on the array of trophies lined up on the shelf above the window, Y/n knew exactly which bed was whose. Her eyes hardened and the hand grabbing Wanda’s hair went down to roughly grip her shoulder.
Wanda yelped when Y/n started pushing her to walk backwards. The back of her legs met the edge of a bed, and the next thing she knew, she was being pushed down onto the soft mattress. Wanda’s eyes widened when she realized which bed she was on, and she sat up in a panic to tell Y/n that they should move.
But Y/n was already gently pushing her down by the shoulder, mouth going back to her neck while her other hand grabbed Wanda’s wrists and led them up to her breast. Her mind went completely blank with the way Y/n was sucking against her neck and Wanda let her head fall back against the pillows while her other hand went up so she could start groping at both of Y/n’s breasts.
Y/n reached down to pull her shoes and socks off before reaching up and pulling Wanda’s blouse off of her. Y/n’s hands instantly went to Wanda’s breasts, squeezing them and pushing them up while her hips thrusted against Wanda’s center. The action caused a loud moan to leave Wanda’s mouth, hands grasping at the pillows beneath her head while her back arched off of the bed.
In one swift motion, Y/n reached behind her and unhooked her bra with one hand. As Wanda’s back fell back onto the mattress, Y/n pulled the bra off of her and threw it to the side. She grabbed Wanda’s upper torso and pulled her up until her breast met her mouth.
Y/n let her nipple graze against her teeth before taking it in her mouth and sucking hard, tongue pressing and flicking the now hardened bud before moving to give attention to Wanda’s other breast. Wanda gasped and moaned, hand moving to Y/n’s hair and tugging her head up so their lips could meet.
She felt hands grab her waist before Y/n’s still clothed crotch started slowly, and painfully, grinding against her clit. Wanda gasped a moan out, trying to move her hips against Y/n’s to add more friction and keep her right where she needed her. But that only made Y/n’s grip on her waist tighten and she forced her to stay still while keeping her own pace.
Wanda’s hands trailed down from Y/n’s neck down to her shoulders, then her arms, only for her to realize that Y/n’s top was still on. Her hands went to the buttons and started attempting to get them undone, but bulge rubbing up against her clit, sending sparks up her spine, and the tongue being shoved down her throat made it hard for Wanda to coordinate her hands.
In frustration, Wanda bunched Y/n’s shirt in her hands and tore them apart, causing her buttons to fly out and her shirt to burst open. Y/n pushed herself off of Wanda and looked down at her now ruined shirt. A quick laugh of disbelief left Y/n’s mouth, her tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth as she tsk’d Wanda while shaking her head.
“I see how it is.” Y/n said in amusement as she pulled her shirt off her body and threw it to the ground, making Wanda’s heart jump in a way that excited her even further.
Y/n’s eyes had grown darker and there was a dangerous glint in her eyes that beautifully accompanied the smirk on her face. It made Wanda’s breathing become more shallow in anticipation. Slowly, Y/n began crawling over Wanda until her face was hovering above hers, hands placed right beside her head.
Y/n took in Wanda’s features in the way a predator would when assessing a potential prey, and for a second, Wanda thought Y/n was going to kiss her. Until her hand suddenly grabbed her by the jaw and pulled her up until she was right up against Y/n’s face without actually making contact with her.
“If you can’t be patient…” Y/n said through gritted teeth and forcefully turned Wanda’s head to the side, making Wanda’s heart beat faster and a pool begin to form in between her legs.
“I’ll just give you what you want.” She whispered directly into Wanda’s ears, causing a shiver to run down Wanda’s spine.
Y/n carelessly released Wanda’s jaw, causing her to fall back roughly against the bed. Wanda was still in the middle of recovering from all that when she suddenly felt herself be pulled down slightly from Y/n grabbing the hem of her jeans and underwear before tugging them down her legs with her shoes.
When Y/n got her bottoms off, she tossed them aside and grabbed Wanda by the waist. She let out a yelp when she felt herself be flipped over onto her stomach as if she was a ragdoll. Y/n then pulled Wanda’s waist up towards her, leaving Wanda face down and ass up before her with a perfect view of her glistening pussy which was all hers for the taking.
Y/n left a quick yet hard slap onto Wanda’s ass, ignoring the yelp of surprise and pain that left Wanda’s mouth as she knelt down and ran her tongue up from Wanda’s clit up to her opening, all the while squeezing both of Wanda’s ass cheeks.
A loud moan from Wanda ripped through the air before she buried her face into the pillows, biting down while she desperately held onto the headboard from the sudden sensation of having her sensitive center be met with Y/n’s warm and skillful tongue.
Y/n spat down onto Wanda’s opening before leaning forward and sticking her tongue inside, hand going down and pressing against her clit roughly while rubbing very slow circles against it as her tongue penetrated her insides at the fastest speed she could muster.
Wanda’s moans got caught in her throat as she desperately gasped in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of her head from the conflicting sensations that rushed through her entire body. Every now and again, Y/n would pull her tongue out and run it through Wanda’s folds, lapping up all her excess wetness that slipped past and dripped down.
Before Wanda could fall over the edge, Y/n pulled back and wiped away Wanda’s juices that had gotten all over her face. A long and desperate gasp left Wanda as her body began to twitch. She was almost there, just a little bit more and she would have gotten what she wanted.
Y/n stood up straight and looked down at the twitching Wanda who was burying her face into the pillow in frustration. She then reached underneath Wanda’s core and pressed two fingers against her clit as hard as she could.
The pressure against her already sensitive nub made Wanda scream, clenching her eyes shut tightly as she felt that final wave crash over her. It was embarrassing to have her cum so hard from just having Y/n hold her fingers against her clit, and it made her even more frustrated from having cum in such an underwhelming way.
Y/n watched as Wanda came undone in front of her, pressing harder whenever Wanda seemed to start to come down from her high to get her going again. Having Wanda desperately cling onto the headboards, knuckles turning white as she whined out in frustration made Y/n’s breathing become heavy.
She let go, but only so she could take her bra off to breathe better. She was in no way done with her yet. Y/n only gave Wanda the luxury of calming down for two seconds before running her fingers up her folds, taking in all the wetness and covering her fingers in them before shoving them into her hole.
Another scream ripped through Wanda’s mouth as her entire body became alight from its sensitivity being turned up to a hundred. Her upper body was being pushed deeper and deeper into the mattress with every thrust of Y/n’s fingers into her pussy, and the stinging pain from being touched right after she came quickly faded away into a pleasure that left Wanda’s mind completely blank.
Y/n clenched her jaw with each moan, curse, and plea Wanda screamed into the air for her, Her eyes stared down at the puckering hole that was slick from Wanda’s wetness that had dripped down to it. She spread her ass cheek with one hand before circling her thumb around the hole, not quite touching it, but getting close enough to cause it to twitch from the proximity.
Wanda’s back arched from the new sensation, feeling that familiar tightening in her core start to rise again. Y/n pressed her thumb fully against Wanda’s asshole, pushing in ever so slightly so the pad would enter just a bit and beginning to pulse her thumb against it while she curled her fingers from within Wanda’s pussy.
And just like that, a long and throat scratching moan left Wanda’s mouth as she felt her walls tighten and clench around Y/n’s fingers. Her hips began stuttering and her legs began shaking, about to fall from how hard the pleasure was crashing against her.
When Y/n pulled her fingers out, Wanda’s legs collapsed, causing her to fully lie down on her stomach as she caught her breath and recovered from her second climax. Y/n raised her hand up to the window to see it glistening from Wanda’s cum in the moonlight. She rubbed her thumb against it to feel its slickness while a sigh left her mouth.
She looked down at Wanda and positioned her body above her. The hand she used to fuck Wanda’s pussy went to her face, pushing her cheeks together and creating an opening for her mouth. She then shoved the two fingers into Wanda’s mouth, causing Wanda to gag and cough from the forcefulness of it.
“Suck.” All the kindness and charm Wanda was used to hearing from Y/n’s voice was completely gone, and that one word was spoken as if Y/n was speaking to a machine.
Even then, it only made another gush of wetness to flow through Wanda’s core, and she gladly obeyed and began sucking herself clean off of Y/n’s fingers, taking in her taste and moaning when Y/n pushed her fingers deeper into her mouth. As she was doing this, Y/n was unbuttoning her pants and pulling out her strap with one hand.
She ran her hand up Wanda’s center, making the woman shiver as the heel of her palm grazed against her swollen clit. Y/n used the wetness that she had collected to lube up the dildo by taking it in her hand and slowly jerking it up and down.
Y/n took her fingers out of Wanda’s mouth before leaning back. Her hand grabbed Wanda’s ass and squeezed it, caressing the soft skin with her thumb as she admired the view beneath her.
“Hands and knees, come on.” Y/n said, giving Wanda’s ass a light slap of encouragement. Instead of questioning her, Wanda simply pushed herself up and propped herself up on her hands and knees.
Y/n lifted one leg up and grabbed her cock in one hand while the other held onto Wanda’s waist to keep her still. She slapped the tip of her strap against Wanda’s entrance before slowly pushing it in until her pussy swallowed her cock’s entire length.
Wanda gasped out as she felt herself be filled to the brim. She’s only had two orgasms so far, and they were the strongest and most tiring orgasms she’s ever had, yet she found her body already ready for more.
She pushed herself back against Y/n and Y/n’s hands went to spread Wanda’s ass cheeks apart so she could get a better view of her cock slipping in and out of Wanda’s pulsing and leaking hole. She began with slow-paced, yet rough and powerful thrusts that sent Wanda pushing forward with each time she pushed back inside her.
Then, Y/n let one hand slowly move from Wanda’s ass up to her spine until she reached the back of her head. When her hair was in between her fingers again, Y/n closed her fists tightly and pulled Wanda’s hair bag as tight as she could, making a loud gasp ring through the air.
She quickened her pace, the wet and messy sound of her cock slapping against Wanda’s pussy filling her ears. Y/n leaned forward, pressing her bare front against Wanda’s back as she reached below her and took one breast in her hand.
Before she could even start fondling it though, Wanda reached down and grabbed her wrist before slowly lifting it up to her neck. Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise for a quick second, but she pushed that down as her fingers wrapped around the girl’s throat.
Wanda’s moans were coming through quickly and cut up as Y/n’s thrusts became more frantic. She pushed up against her cock, wanting to feel it stuff her more than it already was, meeting all of Y/n’s thrusts half way. She could feel her head becoming light, and the only thing Wanda could feel anymore was the unrelenting pleasure coming from the cock pounding into her cunt.
“You…” Y/n started, her voice shaky and a bit breathless as she buried her face into Wanda’s shoulder while continuing to rut against her.
“You are nothing… Nothing like your brother.” Y/n panted in Wanda’s ears and a sigh left Wanda’s mouth, eyes shutting tightly as her back began to arch and muscles began to tense.
“You…” Y/n repeated, tightening her hold on Wanda’s hair and neck. Wanda bit her lip tightly, trying to suppress the squeal begging to leave her chest as her legs began to shake and tremor once more.
“Are so much more.” Wanda cried out, her vision beginning to blur as she dissolved into complete and utter pleasure.
Strangled noises and whimpers left her mouth as her arms and legs gave out in exhaustion, and Y/n was quick to wrap her arms around her torso and waist to keep her up, continuing to thrust into her to help her ride out her orgasm as she twitched and spasmed against her.
“Thank you, goodnight.” Pietro mumbled to the Uber driver, giving him a wave before shutting the door and walking up the steps of his childhood home.
It took him a moment to stick the key into the hole and unlock it, only for him to realize that the door was already unlocked. He furrowed his eyebrows and checked the time on his watch. It was past midnight, why was it unlocked?
When he walked in, the sound of dishes being moved around in the kitchen reached his ears, only furthering his confusion.
“Wanda?” He asked, hand going to the light switch and flicking it on, lighting up the living room and reaching the kitchen. The sound of someone letting out a yelp caused Pietro to jump and shout in surprise. His hands flew to grip his chest and he stepped back, eyes wide and staring at the stranger standing in his kitchen with a bowl of cereal in their hands.
“Oh my god, you scared me.” The woman said as she let out a breath of relief. Pietro furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the woman incredulously.
Her hair was messy, her lips were swollen, and she was wearing nothing but a hoodie that was too big on her, and based on the fact that it had his old track team’s logo on it, he was certain it was his.
“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?” Well, his parents’ house, but it wasn’t time for semantics.
“Wait… You don’t remember me?” The woman asked in amusement, stepping forward into the light as a smirk appeared on her lips.
“Am I supposed to?” Pietro asked while shaking his head, a second away from taking his phone out of his pocket and calling the cops.
“It’s me. Y/n L/n, from high school.” She said slowly, lifting the spoon up to her mouth and eating some of the cereal while keeping her eyes completely trained on the man standing across her.
“Y/n…” Pietro said to himself, trying to figure out why the name was familiar to him. His eyebrows raised and he looked at Y/n in surprise, leaning back as if he didn’t believe it.
“Y/n.” He said in a tone of disbelief once he was certain, and the smirk on Y/n’s face widened as she shook her head.
“Yeah, we spent a lot of time together with your friends in the halls.” Y/n said, then a chuckle left her lips. “Well, you guys were in the halls. I was stuffed in a locker.” She added and Pietro looked down at the comment in shame.
“What are you doing in my house?” He asked to change the subject. Pietro was already planning on apologizing to her at the reunion anyway, he could save it until then. Right now, he needed answers.
“What am I doing in your house?” Y/n repeated, turning around and placing the bowl on the counter before leaning back against it, hands on the counter as she stared Pietro down with a stony glare.
“I just got done fucking your twin sister.” She said with a tilt of her head.
Pietro paused. For a moment, his brain didn’t quite process what she had just said. It was just such an absurd thing to say, so there was no way it could be true.
“What?” Pietro said with a laugh, unconvinced that Y/n was telling the truth. She was fucking with him. She had to be. But the smirk that was now on Pietro’s face made his heart fill with dread.
“I split your sister in half until she was screaming my name on your childhood bed.” Y/n said more surely, her smirk widening when she saw Pietro’s face fall.
“It is so good to see you.” Y/n said, smiling down to herself as she turned and grabbed her cereal again.
“You know, I never knew you had a twin. When I ran into her though, she did kind of look like you.” Y/n said casually as she continued to eat her cereal.
“But I didn't get a chance to see her face much since I was too busy ramming into her from behind to look at her.” She said with a shrug, looking back up to Pietro who stood there, stunned into utter silence as the mental image filled his head, causing his face to scrunch up in disgust.
“She’s very vocal. Which is weird because she’s such a shy girl. Maybe that’s why she made me choke her. Probably not used to being so loud like that.” Y/n said, then a moan left her mouth, hand going up to cover her mouth as she stared down at the bowl.
“Honey nut cheerios are so good.” She said with a laugh, nodding at Pietro who stared at her, unsure if this entire conversation was actually happening right now.
“You… You—” Pietro said with a shaky voice, hand going up and clenching into a fist which he bit down on.
“Fucked your sister? Yes, I said that already. Keep up, Maximoff.” Y/n said while snapping her fingers impatiently.
“You’re fucking insane.” Pietro spat out and Y/n hummed boredly in response, butting the bow down once she was finished with her cereal.
“See, I’m used to hearing you calling me a whole bunch of other things, but insane’s a new one. At least you haven’t lost your touch.” Y/n said as she grabbed the bottom hem of the hoodie she was wearing before pulling it off of her.
Pietro’s eyes widened when Y/n started walking up to her. He stammered, not knowing what to say until Y/n shoved his hoodie into his hands, making him stumble back a bit from the force. Y/n started walking once more, but she stopped when she was right next to Pietro.
“You know, I was really looking forward to meeting your wife. It’s a shame she isn’t here.” Y/n said as she lifted her eyes and met Pietro’s eyes, a devious smile appearing on her face as a dangerous glint shined through her eyes.
“Who knows what would have happened if I ran into her instead of your sister?” Pietro’s jaw clenched tightly and he was about to turn to Y/n and punch her in the face when Y/n pushed him away from her.
He stumbled backwards, almost falling to the ground if he hadn’t caught the side table to steady himself. He watched Y/n confidently saunter over to the door, a sway in her hips and her chin raised up. When she opened the door, she turned back to Pietro and smirked, raising her hand and waving with her fingers.
Pietro glared at her with a burning hatred in his eyes, and Y/n had to stop herself from laughing. She shut the door and made her way back down to her car, relishing in the sound of heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs from within the house.
“Wanda!” She heard Pietro scream from inside just as she entered her car.
Y/n pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened her notes up, going to the latest note and scrolling all the way down, to add the name “Wanda Maximoff”, erasing the one above it, before adding a strikethrough to it.
Above Wanda’s name was an entire list of the names of women with very familiar last names to Y/n.
Pepper Stark
Laura Barton
Gamora Quill
Peggy Rogers
Jane Odinson
Christine Strange
Sylvie Laufeyson
Wanda Maximoff
Y/n shut her phone off and tossed it to the passenger seat, starting her car and driving away to the sound of the Maximoff twins shouting at each other from inside their house.
Summary: A chaotic and disastrous weekend with your lovely family and group of friends has some issues: Steve Rogers should not be left to take care of the accommodation, everyone has lost their jobs and Wanda is a very jealous wife. || Based on a Brazilian movie.
Warnings: (+16) attempt at humor, chaotic domesticity, lots of cuteness and jokes, established relationship, mentions and innuendo of smut and mentions of homemade artificial insemination, explicit language (cursing) || Words: 6.004k
A/N: I was talking to abimess about the lack of Brazilian representation in basically everything, and she had the brilliant idea of a special collection with stories with a Brazilian Reader. However, none of us would have the time to do it, still, I plan to write some loose stories about it. This story for example is based on a very famous Brazilian comedy film, hope you all like it.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |
--//--
Being an adult usually had only two meanings: Not having the time or not having money. And both could happen simultaneously.
Yet, with the mass resignation of the Bishop Security Company after the owner's exposure of felony evasion, you and your co-workers and closest friends, Maria Hill and Steve Rogers, decided that the insurance money would be a good opportunity to have decent summer vacation for once in your life.
Convincing your wife would be the tricky part.
"Absolutely not." Wanda spoke with an indignant expression as soon as you finished counting. "We need to save money, Y/N. You still haven't received any feedback on the resumes you sent out, and we're not going to waste our savings because Rogers wants to have beers on the beach." Wanda declared seriously, but at that moment, the twins were coming down the stairs, and Tommy let out an excited exclamation.
"Are we going to the beach?"
"No, Tommy-"
But if there was one thing Wanda had a problem doing, it was saying no to her boys' puppy dog eyes - and coupled with your kisses - she rolled her eyes and eventually agreed.
So, you left New York in a pickup truck with your family headed for the seashore.
"Who took care of the lodging?" Wanda asked from the passenger seat - she looked, in your humble opinion, stunning in her sunglasses.
You turned down the radio a little to answer her.
"Steve. He said something about an old friend who had a boat and a beach house." You answer and Wanda hums in agreement, half distracted with her cell phone. You look through the rearview mirror at the twins, also focused on electronic devices, and sigh. "You know, it would be nice if we tried to disconnect a little from the Internet this holiday, don't you guys think?"
No one even hears your question, and you roll your eyes before turning the radio back up.
You stayed on the road for almost three hours because of the traffic, but everyone was very pleased when the sea became visible. The joy lasted only for the next 20 minutes.
"Are you sure we are at the right address?" Wanda asked with a grimace as soon as you parked the car in front of an old gate, a considerable amount of moss covering the bricks, and grass growing everywhere.
You were equally confused, and got out of the car with some hesitation, looking around. It was a somewhat isolated area from the rest of the houses, but the yard led to the beach. From the beam of the gate you could see that there was also a swimming pool.
Taking your cell phone, you dialed Steve's number while your family waited in the car - Wanda leaned into the back seat to calm the twins who were already starting to get restless.
"Rogers, I think we missed the entrance or something. Are you here yet?"
"No, I'm about ten minutes away. Send me your location and I'll pick you up."
But apparently, you were in the right place. And when Steve Rogers parked his car next to yours, you were just as annoyed as Wanda.
"You said you were going to take care of the lodging!" You accused the blond who held up his hands in surrender.
"Hey, I said I knew the owner, that's different!" He defended himself. "Sam said the place is nice, you haven't even been in and you're already making judgments." He argues. "And stop yelling at me in front of my fiancé, it's bad luck." He whispered the last part, taking advantage of Bucky getting out of the car, and you rolled your eyes impatiently.
The place was not nice. It was a surprise that it was actually standing.
You only didn't choke Steve because Maria arrived on a motorcycle with her girlfriend and she looked like she was going to do it first.
"Rogers, I promised her an incredible weekend and you put us in this hole!" Maria grunts between teeth as the three of you are supposedly checking out the kitchen, your families waiting for you in the living room.
"Look, the value was really good! I had no idea the place was in this condition." Steve defends himself. "Sam told me it was his family's house, and that they haven't been here in a few years..."
"More like a few centuries." You retort rubbing your forehead. You can hear Wanda's voice asking the kids not to touch anything, acknowledging that pitch of anger, and you can already imagine the lecture. And honestly, she's right.
"I'll call Sam." Steve says, sounding like he's more about running away from the discussion than solving something.
To add to Wanda's irritation, you had also suggested that she invite Pietro and his family, figuring that your friend would have picked a really nice place. So when the twin arrived with Monica and little Luna, you knew that the thin ice had burst.
Pietro let out a laugh when he saw the state of the room.
"It looks like a hurricane came through in here." He commented dropping one of the suitcases on the floor, his wife holding her daughter as if afraid she would catch some disease from the floor. "Well, I'll take the larger room!"
Pietro's sentence caused a commotion. You shuddered at the look Wanda threw you before she ran to catch up with the boys who went to dispute the room with their uncle, and you sat down on the old couch with a grunt, a migraine forming.
"Sam said he'll be here in fifteen minutes." Steve informs you and Maria as he returns to the living room with a cell phone in hand.
Apparently, it was the housekeeper's fault. Sam was a nice guy, and really didn't know that the house wasn't being taken care of properly. It took him almost 30 minutes to arrive however because he brought several pieces of cleaning equipment to help improve the appearance of the house.
"Amazing, guys! I go to the beach with everyone who has nothing to do with the choice of lodging and the rest of you are left in charge of cleaning." Wanda declares to the room and no one has the courage to contradict her.
And so you spend the rest of your afternoon trying to get mold out of the inside of a pool.
"Natasha seems nice." Steve tells Maria a few hours into the cleanup when the three of you are taking old bottles out.
"She's amazing." Your friend retorts with an excited sigh. "I was a little unsure about this open relationship thing, but we're doing fine."
"Wait, does that mean you two can sleep with other people?" Steve asks surprised, and Maria giggles, shaking her shoulders as the three of you make your way back inside, at least three rooms with plenty of cleaning to be done yet.
"If we are in agreement, yes." Answers the brunette.
"Damn I could never do that." Steve comments and you hum in response.
"Just the thought of Wanda sleeping with someone else makes my skin itch."
"I didn't know you were the jealous type, Y/N." Maria comments and you give a short laugh, your hands busy moving the pillows to dust them off.
"Have you seen my wife, Hill? No, wait, don't look at her like that." You joke making all three of you laugh. "I'm not really, just truly monogamous. Believe me, Wanda is jealous of this relationship."
Steve laughed in agreement. "Oh, I recall that. Before you joined the company, Maria, Y/N trained a new girl, I think her name was Carol or something. Wanda looked ready to rip someone's head off every time her name was mentioned."
"I thought it was cute."
"It was scary." Steve contradicts making you laugh.
You get back to cleaning the house between conversations about work and side scares, and as the place gets cleaner, the anger about the inconveniences eventually takes a back seat.
Wanda and the others don't return until late afternoon, the kids running in dirty with sand and making a huge mess in the shower.
You are testing the waters calmly, but realize that a day at the beach with the twins seems to have relaxed Wanda a bit. You try to improve things a bit by promptly offering to take care of the twins, cleaning up all the mess and making sure they were in their pajamas and ready for dinner without delay.
Wanda smiled at you in thanks before heading to the kitchen and that made you sigh with relief.
"She's mad." Tommy warns you as you dry his hair and you look at your son with a grimace.
"Are you sure?"
"She smashed the volleyball." It is Billy who answers, and you sigh with slight panic.
"Boys do you have any suggestions?" You ask them, going to dry the other's hair.
"A new house." Tommy mutters taking an elbow from his brother.
"Foot massage, mommy. And you could buy some chocolates too." Billy suggests and you smile at them.
"You two are the best." You say kissing the head of each before letting them run into the kitchen.
—------—------
Everyone was tired from the trip and the beach, so plans for the barbecue and pool would be left for the next few days. The children were put in one room, and you, Wanda and Maria and Natasha in the other, while Steve and Bucky took the couches. The hammocks for Pietro and Monica.
"Did you girls get to know each other well?" Maria asked when the four of you were in the room. You were sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting for Wanda to finish drying her hair and get into bed, while Natasha was grabbing bath items to use after Maria who had just left the shower.
Wanda and Nat exchanged gentle smiles. "Yes, Natalia is a sweetheart." Your wife commented, causing Maria to smile. "She mentioned that you guys almost went to St.Petersburg, but ended up choosing the beach. I imagine the regret must be bitter." Wanda joked, and although Maria and Nat laughed, you knew it was a warning that she hadn't forgiven you yet.
"I don't know, Wanda, trading thick coats for the chance to see this goddess in a bikini seems like a good game." Natasha flirts with her girlfriend, stealing a kiss on the way to the bathroom, and as soon as the door closes, Maria grunts with excitement, ignoring the giggles from you and Wanda.
"God, that woman is going to kill me." Hill said.
"Doesn't it make you want to keep her all to yourself?" You tease just to torment her, and Maria chuckles, raising her middle finger at you. Wanda watches the scene with confusion.
"What do you mean?" She asks, and Maria quickly tries to explain about them being in an open relationship. "Wow, that's... modern."
You give a short laugh, which Maria follows. "Come on Maximoff, you can say you think it's a crazy idea. Steve does."
But Wanda shrugs her shoulders, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "No, I think it's nice. If it works for you, and it's something you like, then I really don't see why it would be a problem. In fact, it sounds interesting, I imagine you guys must never get bored."
Maria laughs, commenting that boredom has never been a problem, but you frown in hesitation.
"In fact, girls, I think Nat forgot her soap and I would never want her to have her bath marred by that little triviality..." Maria says a moment later, ignoring the rolling of your eyes to run to the bathroom and you turn your attention back to your wife lying on the bed beside you.
"Hey, pretty girl, since when do you think an open relationship is cool?" You ask, moving to the edge of the bed without delay, your hands finding Wanda's feet to place them in your lap. She gives a confused giggle.
"What, I'm not allowed to?" She retorts half sarcastically, the irritation over the events from earlier still fresh in her mind.
You sigh. "You can think whatever you want, Wanda. I was just surprised. And that talk about being bored..." Your voice grew a little unsure, causing Wanda to frown in curiosity. "It wasn't about us was it?"
Wanda giggled incredulously. "By God, honey."
"What? It's an honest doubt." You defend yourself with flushed cheeks, and Wanda bites back a smile. She would like to be irritated with you for more than a few hours, but you make the job so difficult.
"Baby, we have sex almost every day."
"Yeah, but you could be getting tired..." You mutter upset, your fingers massaging Wanda's feet and she grunts softly.
"I promise I'm not."
"So you wouldn't want to open our marriage?"
"Babe, don't make me kick your pretty face." Wanda warns causing you to chuckle. She closes her eyes to enjoy the massage better and you smile affectionately as you watch the soft sighs that leave her lips in appreciation of the touch.
You lick your lips a minute later, stopping your movements to lean down and kiss her thighs, making Wanda open her eyes.
"What are you doing?" She asks almost tense, her gaze going to the closed door. You only press a hand to her stomach to get her to lie back down, and the other pulls the comforter over you.
"Making sure there's no boredom." You retort, fingers climbing up into her nightgown as your mouth kisses the inside of her thigh and up, making Wanda shudder softly.
"Baby, the girls could be back any moment..." She reminds you with the last remaining bit of sanity, but you only laugh softly against her skin.
"Adrenaline makes everything better, don't you think?" It is your last comment, and Wanda will not argue any further.
–//–
The second day is infinitely better than the first. Apparently, one orgasm is enough for Wanda to forgive you for a bad weekend, and when you join everyone on the beach, it's really fun.
The only inconvenience is Pietro mistaking sunscreen for suntan lotion and turning all the kids into shrimp, which stresses the mothers out to a considerable degree.
You end up going back early because of this, and you offer to go to the pharmacy to get some ointment for them, being joined by Natasha in the car as the woman also wanted to buy some items.
You chat a bit on the way, she has a sarcastic humor but is pleasant company. She also flirts a lot with the natural way in which compliments escape her, and the interaction leaves you feeling a bit awkward.
The problem is that for your wife, you arriving with easy smiles and a flushed face with a beautiful woman like Natasha is not exactly the best thing in the world. So her passive hostility from before returns and you have no idea why.
You focus on soothing the burns of the three naughty children on the couch for the moment though.
Wanda, on the other hand, is quite interested in finding out why you arrived laughing with Natasha, and once the redhead joins Steve and Bucky in preparing the barbecue, the shorter one is trying to sound as casual as possible.
"[...] your wife is really very nice, that's all." Natasha assures amiably, her hands busy grabbing a cold beer. "I told her about not knowing New York very well, and she told me that with the company's trainee program she ended up getting to know the city like the back of her hand and that if I were in Queens sometime, we could schedule a coffee. She is very helpful."
Wanda forces a smile. "Yes, very helpful. Lovely." She commented, the sarcasm being missed by Nat, who wasted no time in continuing the conversation.
You didn't understand any of the murderous looks you received from Wanda every time she took a sip of beer while talking to Nat, but honestly, you were afraid to ask.
The barbecue gets livelier as Pietro gets the radio and speakers working, and you proudly fill the pool that you have successfully cleaned.
While the kids are playing in the water, you approach Wanda from behind, hands on her waist, but when you go to kiss her, she turns her face away and you end up just brushing up against her cheek.
She takes a long swig of beer, prologuing the lack of explanation and causing you to raise an eyebrow.
"What's wrong?" You ask in a whisper, holding her by the waist while the others are busy dancing and talking.
"Nothing." She retorts between teeth, returning the bottle to the counter in front of her, leaning her ass against you.
"Wanda." You insist, appreciating the warmth, but worried about the way she is acting.
Your wife just turns her face to you, an innocent expression that doesn't match the way her eyes are shining. "It's nothing, honey, I just heard about you being the best tour guide in New York."
You frown in confusion. "What...?"
But Wanda slips your hands away as she spins her body around, hands finding the collar of your shirt. "So helpful with other people's girlfriends."
You sigh as you understand. "Wanda, I was just trying to be nice..." You try, but she leans her face against yours, brushing your lips together and making you lose your line of reasoning. Wanda kisses you softly and suddenly bites your mouth just on the limit so as not to hurt, the gentle pain being a clear reminder of her annoyance, and you grunt softly as she pulls away. " No need to be mean."
She gives a naughty little laugh, licking her lips and attracting the immediate attention of your eyes.
But your interaction is interrupted when Steve announces that the couple he befriended on the beach earlier was at the gate. Tony Stark, his wife Pepper, and their daughter Morgan had brought more food and drinks for the barbecue, and you whispered that you were going to be as friendly as ever just to tempt her.
The barbecue continues throughout the day. Everyone gets to know each other, and around three, you decide that you would also like to join the pool, and having gotten busy you were not yet in your swimsuit.
You went inside to change and found the bathroom empty. Since everyone was outside and you were only going to put your top on, you didn't lock the door. As soon as you took off your shirt, someone came in.
Nat closed the door and turned around, surprised to find you without clothes.
"Oh, sorry, my bad." She apologized without any shame, just regret that she had intruded. The problem is that when she went to open the door, the old doorknob made a noise and fell to the floor. "That's not good."
You put on your T-shirt in record time, moving to the door as well.
"Shit." You grumbled, trying to push the door open but to no avail. You immeasurably started to knock, but the loud sound muffled it. "No, no, no."
Natasha gave a confused giggle at your reaction. "Look, that sucks, but I promise I'm not the worst company to be locked up with." She jokes, a little unsure, after all, she was the girlfriend of one of your close friends and just wanted to make a good impression.
You gesture to her quickly. "Oh, no, it's not you. I just need to get out of this bathroom before my wife dreams that I ended up in a small space with a beautiful woman."
"Well, thank you." She retorts and you grunt in embarrassment, but Nat seems to be finding the whole thing amusing. She leans on the wall next to the door, pulling out her cell phone and you sigh impatiently, trying to slam the door again.
Shortly after, you hear footsteps and knock harder.
"Hey, we're stuck!" You warn.
"Mom?" it's Tommy's confused voice, and you sigh in relief.
"Yes, honey, Aunt Nat and I got stuck in the bathroom, try calling Uncle Pietro without alerting anyone and-"
"MAMA! MOMMY GOT STUCK IN THE BATHROOM WITH AUNT NATASHA" Tommy shouts into the hallway with a mischievous laugh, and you feel your body freeze. Even Nat laughs softly at your reaction.
Wanda moves so fast out of her seat that the pillows hit the floor. She reaches the door in a rage and starts knocking hard.
"Y/N? OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!"
You shudder, taking a step away. "Wanda, honey, the lock broke..."
Another loud knock. You heard other footsteps, and the music slowed, so it wasn't hard to deduce that the whole group was in the hallway.
"What happened people?" Pietro asked confused.
"Pietro, Natasha, and I got stuck in here." You replied from the other side and wanted to dig yourself a hole for giggles.
"Everyone out now." Wanda speaking tapped her foot, and you heard footsteps and giggling children, signaling that the children all ran to the pool again. "Y/N, open this door right now!"
You sigh wearily, looking around. Natasha moves as well, grabs a toothbrush, and pats you on the shoulder to make room for her.
"Maybe if we shove this in here..." She comments but is interrupted by a loud exclamation and laughter from the other side.
"SHOVE IT IN? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Wanda questions explosively, and you grunt softly.
"Look, sestra, from the sounds of it it must be good stuff." Pietro sneers, and you hear a slapping noise and another chuckle.
Natasha seems to be having a hard time holding back her laughter, offering you a frown by Wanda's reaction, but all you do is sigh and sit down on one of the little stools by the door.
"Wanda, relax, I'm sure it's fine in there." Steve tries to reassure her.
"Yes, I'll go look for a screwdriver." It is Bucky who speaks and you hear his footsteps getting away.
"Of course, it's fine, by the way, it's a great opportunity for a bonding hour." Pietro teases getting another chuckle, but you sink your face into your own hands, grumbling in frustration. "Wow, I think they've even started."
The snickering makes you blush with embarrassment, but soon you jump in fright because Wanda gives another loud knock on the door.
"Y/N, I swear to god if I hear any more strange sounds..." She warns between teeth, and you swallow dryly, not even daring to breathe too loudly.
Natasha gives up trying to open it with her toothbrush, seeing that it wouldn't work and leans back on the wall.
"I don't know about you, Wanda, but sometimes silence can even be worse." Monica joins in the tormentors, and you hear Pietro laughing as well. "who knows what the mouth is doing other than talking"
"Y/N!” Wanda calls immediately with her voice trembling with rage. “Speak! Now!"
You roll your eyes and Natasha answers for you, "Guys, stay calm, everything is under control in here."
"Yes, Wanda, we're just waiting." You say.
"Yeah, Y/N, keep talking!" Your wife warns.
"What's the use of talking, we don't know where her hands are..." Pietro adds making Monica laugh. You place a hand over your face in disbelief.
Wanda's shaky voice calls out to you again. "What are you doing with your hands? Clap them!"
"My god, that's ridiculous." You mutter.
"Clap.Them." Wanda repeats between teeth, her voice laden with irritation, and you sigh impatiently before obeying. "That's it, keep going. I better know where your hands are!"
"Wanda, I won't be-"
"I swear to god Y/N-" She interrupts you and you don't have to command again before you clap your hands again. "That's it, good. Now speak, or sing."
Fuck this.
Pietro and Monica start laughing, and Natasha also gives up on holding in her giggles. Luckily, Bucky comes back with the screwdriver.
About ten minutes later, the door opens, and you only have time to stare at Wanda in confusion before the woman leaves in a rage and dragging her feet away.
"If she kills me, I will haunt you both." You warn Pietro and Monica, who just laugh at your distress before you follow the same path as Wanda.
Although it is not really your fault, you feel very bad to find your wife on the verge of tears, with her arms crossed and sitting on the sand, a few meters away from the house.
You sigh softly, making noise with your steps to announce your arrival before sitting down beside her.
"Sorry." You murmur and Wanda shudders, keeping her gaze on the ocean. "I should have, um, locked the door before the doorknob broke."
"I'm not mad." She grumbles. "I know it wasn't your fault."
You look at her with concern. "Then...why are you crying?"
"I don't know." She answers with a soft sniffle, wiping her tears away quickly. "It's stupid."
You sigh, moving one of your fingers to give the strap of her shorts a gentle tug, "Come on, talk to me." You insist sweetly, and Wanda takes a deep breath, her gaze on her own feet.
"I just... it's stupid, but sometimes, I have these thoughts. About you, finding someone cooler or I don't know, hot. Someone who does things more fun than cleaning the carpet or preparing kids' breakfasts. Or I don't know, some of the incredibly interesting people you meet every day who actually go places instead of spending the day writing about it." Wanda blurts out, and you sigh deeply.
She has never said these insecurities to you. Not since college at least. And because you were so sincerely in love with her, the possibility that Wanda might feel insecure never crossed your mind.
"Hey, come here." You call out to her, bringing your hands to her hips. "Where did that come from?"
Wanda hides her face in your chest, her cheeks burning. "I don't know, it just did come." She mumbles against your skin.
Before, when you were younger and more hesitant, you would often reassure her. But after marriage, god, after children, you just assumed Wanda knew she was the love of your life. But she apparently still let her insecurities get the best of her. And it was okay.
"Sometimes I think you'll meet a super literature genius and forget about me." You confess to her as you hold her, and Wanda gives a confused little laugh.
"Really?"
"Mm-hmm." You mutter. "Remember when you won that writing contest last summer, and that handsome professor came over to ask for your number?"
"And I said I was married?" Wanda asks raising her gaze to you.
"Yep, that's the one." You say. "I was so insecure all night because all my head could think about was you moving on with someone far more intelligent and well resolved."
"That's ridiculous, I love you."
"I know, that's exactly my point." You retort with a chuckle that she accompanies. "Besides, that night you couldn't even wait for us to get out of the car so you obviously were crazy about me-"
Wanda smacks you in the ribs, laughing along with you. "Idiot." She says, sliding her arms around you.
"Sorry for making you clap your hands." She asks then, and you laugh softly.
"It's okay, baby." You say. "Do you want to go back inside?"
"Can I get a kiss first?" She asks with a pout raising her eyes to you.
"Hmm, as many as you want." You whisper back, leaning in to meet her mouth and feeling her smile against your lips. Wanda slides her tongue against yours slowly, and you move your hands down to squeeze her ass, pushing her against your hips and getting an affected sigh. "Just for the record, Maximoff. You are the hottest woman in the world." You compliment with your eyes ajar, smiling at the way that although she rolls her eyes, her cheeks turn pink.
–//–
The last day of the weekend had everything to be perfect, so it was the most disastrous of all.
Someone - you prefer not to accuse, although everyone knows who sleeps in the living room takes care of those things - forgot to close the windows, and the early morning rain got half the appliances on the countertop wet and damaged. Pietro was quite grumpy without his coffee.
The children have become even more energetic in the last day, and almost impossible to keep up with. You lost sight of Tommy for the fourth time and were trying to help Billy get his arm out of a jar when you heard the sound of something falling.
The whole house heard it, actually, and in record time, it was the whole group outside, where Tommy had just fallen off an old ladder trying to climb the fence.
"What are these kids taking?" Steve asks half startled, but you are busy going to check on your son who has apparently twisted his wrist.
"Mommy's hurting." Tommy whimpers as you sigh nervously, grabbing his arm to check.
"It doesn't look broken dear. Come on let's put some ice on it."
Aside from Tommy's injury, apparently, Wanda couldn't decide whether to stay on good or bad terms with you this weekend. As soon as she finished checking for the tenth time that her son wasn't forcing his injured hand, she sent you one of her angry glances on the way to the bathroom and you sighed in confusion, the sound attracting the attention of Monica, who was preparing lunch next to you.
"Everything okay there, Y/N?" She asked gently, and you forced a smile.
"Yeah, it's nothing." You mumble, but meet Monica's gaze and sigh. "It's just Wanda."
"Are you two going through a crisis?" she teases but you widen your eyes.
"What? Why, did she say something?"
Monica gives a confused giggle, "No, Y/N, I'm just teasing you." She assures you still smiling, and finishes throwing some of the vegetables into the pot. "Is this about the house? Cause it all turned out to be fun."
"God, I have no idea." You gasp softly in frustration. "She keeps having these mood swings, one minute we're in paradise and the next she looks ready to jump at my neck."
"Oh, but that makes sense for someone in her condition." Monica mutters and you frown in confusion. Seeing your face, the other woman hesitates.
"What condition?"
Monica gives a nervous little laugh, shaking her head. "I meant, I imagine she was nervous about the dismissal from the company and-" She starts to reel, but you cut her off:
"Monica, what condition?"
The woman sighs in defeat. "Sorry, Y/N. I didn't know Wanda hadn't told you yet." She says twisting her fingers. "She found out she's pregnant."
You give a short laugh, thinking it's a joke. But Monica's face doesn't have a trace of humor in it.
"B-but we haven't been trying for months and-" you stammer but shut up when you realize that the possibility is quite possible. Because you had tried, a lot, to increase the family a few months ago with the whole homemade insemination and donation sperm, until the layoffs at Bishop started happening and as the tests kept showing negative, you and Wanda left the idea for later. But, apparently, it had worked.
"I'll get you some water." Monica says as she sees your pallor, but you turn around, shaking your head.
"No, I'm fine. I need to talk to my wife." That's what you say before you drop the food knife and leave the kitchen.
Wanda is packing the boys' bags in the last room when you run into her. Everything would be fine if she weren't sniffling softly.
You close the door gently, sighing so she won't be startled, and she quickly wipes her face.
"Hey, sweetheart." You greet her by moving closer and sitting down next to her on the bed, knee to knee. "Why are you crying?"
Wanda gives a tearful laugh. "I have no idea." She replies making you smile affectionately, one hand moving to intertwine with hers in her own lap, and Wanda smooths out one of Billy's t-shirts with the other. "I was just packing up the boys' things and it occurred to me how fast they grew up, and before I knew it, I was crying."
You hum in understanding, moving your face to kiss her on the cheek as Wanda closes her eyes for a minute, trying to control her own emotions. "I'm sorry." She murmurs, and you shake your head, playing with your fingers.
"Don't apologize." You whisper back. "I would never be angry with you for that. I would never be mad at you for anything."
She lets out a soft laugh, turning her face to you. "Not even for accidentally recording Bewitched over your The Office?"
"The keyword is accidentally." You retort good-naturedly, making her laugh as well. Wanda leans against you, and you drop her hand to slip an arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head. "Baby, is there something you wanted to tell me?"
Your question makes Wanda tense up, but your gentle caresses with your fingers along her arm make her sigh and relax eventually. It takes a few minutes, but she finally says:
"I found out last week." She confesses, and you sigh softly. "Who told you?"
"Monica."
"I'm going to kill her." You laugh, and so does Wanda, pulling away to look at you. "I'm so sorry-
"Stop apologizing, Wanda." You interrupt her tenderly, rubbing your noses together affectionately for a moment. "We both wanted to and did it together."
"But that was before-"
"I know." You cut in with a soft chuckle, using your other hand to tuck loose strands of Wanda's hair behind her ear, meeting her worried emerald eyes. "We're going to be fine, darling. I know it's a scary time, but we'll manage. We always do."
Wanda sighs, looking at you for a second. "I love you."
She confesses, making you smile affectionately.
"And I love you." You assure, resting your forehead against hers. Wanda breaks the distance to give you a sweet kiss, smiling against your lips. When she pulls away, you exchange passionate glances. "How many weeks?"
Wanda gives a short laugh. "Almost four months, darling."
You gasp in surprise, pulling back. "No way!" You comment, moving your hands to her blouse, and lifting it up making Wanda laugh at your enthusiasm. You place your hands on her belly. "She's been hiding..."
"She?"
"Oh, yes, definitely a girl. I can feel it." You murmur, moving your hands to Wanda's hips, who raises an eyebrow at the sight of you adjusting to lay her down on the bed and be on top. "I wonder when we made her..."
Wanda bit back a chuckle, feeling you fit a leg between hers. "Well, four months ago, I was working from home every day."
"Hmm, so I guess it was right on your desk, sweetheart." You retort to her as you lower your lips to her neck, and Wanda gives a soft little laugh, remembering all too well how many times you almost broke her office desk. Your hands are coming down dangerously, but the sound of the children outside makes you sigh in frustration against her neck. Wanda feels hot and shares your dissatisfaction at having to stop. "We need a vacation for just the two of us, Wanda."
"I agree." She comments with a smile, kissing you more tenderly.
You knew things were going to be okay. You had Wanda. And it would only take a week for you to get a call from Eternals Inc, and another two for you to get back to work. And less than a month later, booking tickets for a cruise on your anniversary.
Summary: Wanda doesn’t seem to understand what she has. You wouldn’t say she’s neglecting you, but you need her to understand that you’ve got choices, okay? So, post-winning and taking down a villain, Wanda gets the aftermath. Now as a feline, she’s beginning to realize maybe the two of you talk too little.
[In which, Wanda gets turned into a cat & realizes she’s got competition]
Warnings: Potentially a crack!fic lmfao
Genre: Fluff/humor/romance
Notes: HAPPY 200 FOLLOWERS! Seriously, I’ve just started this account over from scratch, so I’m amazed we’ve reached this point already. Thank you to everyone who likes, comments, and follows! I’ve been drowning in too much angst lately, and this cute thing popped into my mind. Please enjoy :)
P.S. ya’ll know Wanda would be the most majestic cat you’ve ever goddamn seen. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.
Count: 5614
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“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“You know, I’ve seen weirder shit.”
Natasha and Tony bickered a little more while everyone was huddled around Wanda. The new height difference was making Wanda jittery, it was like giants crowding around her.
“Guys, back up a bit,” Steve said while putting his arms out to give Wanda some space.
Wanda felt her shoulders relax as she sat upright.
“So, this is happening,” Clint said, eyeing the fur.
[Wanda x Fem!Reader] [friends to lovers] [NSFW] [One-shot]
Summary: Wanda, the woman she is, an everlasting tease that would be your demise...
A/n: Pure smut, but it's pretty vanilla. Heavy romance, reader is ruminating about falling in love with that gorgeous woman. Hopelessly down bad for her. You can relate, can't you? You dirty little thing. There's a reason you're here reading this. ;)
Contents: seducing, deep appreciation, nipple play, fingering (W receiving), squirting
[Minors and men DNI]
That shirt was so tight on her... fuck.
She let out a low and mischevious chuckle and your eyes snapped up to hers, as if you were called out.
And you were.
She was already staring at you, her lower lip between her teeth.
You blushed.
Your hand unconsciously twitched on your side and her eyes darted to it.
Then she looked down at her own body. Her hands flattened against her hips, slowly slid up to her sides, accentuated her ribs and cupped her breasts.
She didn't tilt her head up, but her eyes shot at you. Dangerous.
"Wanda..." you whispered. You wanted to apologize for walking in like that, but you were stunned.
Wait, she knew you'd come here, she herself asked you to-
"Come here..." Her velvety voice made your entrance pulse and your eyes flutter close for a moment.
All rational thoughts - gone.
You exhaled the breath you didn't know you were holding since the moment her hands roamed her body instead of yours... Your heart was beating faster, you could feel it in your stomach. Your neck heated up.
"Come on, don't be shy, Y/n..."
You blinked a few times, your mind trying to ground itself and process the visual information it was bombarded with. Your cheeks reddened, but something in your brain felt incredibly fuzzy.
She rolled her eyes playfully and stepped closer to you and you took a small step back on reflex - it was unintentional, but it looked more as if you just shifted your weight.
Oh, don't think she didn't know.
Her hands crossed one before the other as they went down to take the hem of her top. She looked at you and you locked eyes before she lifted it up, your gaze dropping down and your mouth falling open.
Beautiful, round, soft, milky breasts with pink, hardened nipples and tiny moles scattered around her gorgeous skin, which was so light you could see the soft blue hues of her veins here and there.
But her skin looked so smooth you were sure you'd combust if you touched it.
Her ribs moved under her skin. Her muscles flexed as she pulled the top over her head.
Her curves... those svelte shoulders, prominent collarbones, gorgeous breasts, flat stomach, small waist, portruding hipbones that just begged for you to grip them...
She was carved by gods.
She giggled when she got to see you again as she threw the piece of clothing somewhere on the floor without looking at it.
Her eyes were the most beautiful and mesmerizing shade of green you have ever seen in your entire life. It felt like you were in a luxurious gallery where only special VIP guests were secretly invited to enjoy the views.
And in front of you was the most stunning sculpture that has ever existed.
Alive and breathing, interested in you.
Wanting you.
Beckoning you.
Calling you.
Needing you.
She was perfection in human form.
But how could she ever want you? She was out of everyone's league. There's not a single person on this earth that deserves her. Maybe she was her own separate league. Just one person. Her.
Her breasts became even rounder when her hands relaxed down.
"You can touch... however you want..." she spoke sensually, her breath slow, eyes half-lidded.
Oh, just the image of touching her...
You quite literally felt a stabby hot feeling between your legs, then heavy dripping moving your lips apart and sinking in your panties. If you were breathing any more heavily you'd be vocal. You wish the movement down there were her fingers. Or her tongue. Anything, just her.
She raised her hands up again, cupping her breasts, careful of her nipples to stay between her fingers. She lifted them up and squeezed, then unsqueezed and slowly let them back down, without letting go.
You short-circuited.
"Yyy/nnnn..." she moaned quietly.
You made a needy sound at the same time as her. Your face contorted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and mouth making a small "o".
Why were you not doing anything?! She was right in front of you! Real, craving your touch.
God, she was too perfect.
She bit her reddened lower lip.
"Touch me, baby..." she pleaded.
You wanted to pounce on her, tackle her on the ground, you wanted to ravish her, make her gasp, moan so loud it echoes, you wanted to be the reason her feet shake when she screams as she's cumming around your fingers or tongue or both.
You felt something soft. Your hands... she guided them up between the two of you.
Did you black out for a second?!
The redhead stepped even closer and pushed her chest against you, and your hands instinctively opened and grabbed the beautiful curves of skin.
Holy. Shit.
Her nipples rubbed against your palms and her breath hitched - the sound so beautiful it made your own breath hitch as you slowly fell in tune with her.
Things were clicking into place, the puzzle was solving itself, two colors harmonizing into a gradient of love and desire.
Her pleasure was yours.
Her palms found a place on the outside of your forearms, softly trapping you, reserving you for herself.
Not that you would go to anyone else anymore.
Just her presence alone ruined you for everyone else.
It was her or death.
You were hers the moment you two met for the first time.
And you'll be hers until the end of time.
You swore your soul would always search for hers when you die - something so beyond humanity it felt sacred.
You leaned forward and connected your wide-open mouth to the inner side of her shoulder, closer to her neck.
She hummed in pleasure and tilted her head back, her hair raining behind her.
You felt like your tongue was licking the softest surface, your teeth grazing something they could never bite... your lungs filled with her faint signature scent and your legs felt weak.
Her right hand slid up to your shoulder, travelled past your neck and buried in your hair, pulling you closer.
She stepped closer, pushing you backwards, and you let her guide you. Your back softly hit the wall.
You were never a top or a dom.
You were the bottomest of bottoms.
You never had the desire to ruin someone, but she was different. She was a once in a lifetime exception. You wanted to give her so much and yet you couldn't help being under her control, because, god, how could you ever deny her the power that's rightfully hers? How could you ever deny a goddess her divinity?
It just felt natural, being like this around her.
Pliant.
Small.
Serving.
Somehow everything else stopped existing.
It was just her.
Her, her, her.
The moan that rolled out of her throat and graced your ears made you bring your knees closer together.
Your vagina pulsed so hard.
She gently guided your head down and you kissed her collarbone.
Her cleavage.
"Yees..."
The top of her right breast.
"Mmmmmh..."
Her nipple.
"Ha-ah~"
Oh, that beautiful little nub...
You swirled your tongue around it and felt her torso softly jolt as she fought with gravity to keep herself upright.
You tickled it with her tongue and she moaned louder. Proper.
You needed more.
Your hands tightened their hold of her breasts and she arched her back.
"Oh, Y/n..."
It made you break for a second.
Your mouth started moving again.
You made a thin wet line towards her other nipple and she gasped again. You didn't lick much of it, just flicked the side.
Her hand, the one in your hair you forgot about, suddenly gripped tightly, the sensation of your scalp like an exploding power plant, electricity spreading towards the rest of your body and bouncing in your core.
You enclosed the sensitive nub in your wide-open mouth, encasing it in warmth. Your tongue started tickling it and she mewled.
"Fuck~" She whined, high-pitched and breathy. Almost sobbed even.
She groaned when you pulled away and removed your mouth from her breast, the air feeling so cold against the wetness.
Your dominant hand let her breast go and with the backside of the middle of your index finger you gently traced her skin down, following the curves of her slender body. You felt her stomach convulse, but you kept going lower, lower, lower... boldly sliding seamlessly under her panties without any resistance, and over her smooth and hairless privates. Her breath fastened and you turned your hand to cup her core.
The softest skin you've ever touched - her lips - flappy, wet, contracting. You couldn't help but fiddle with them, making her squirm. You traced the skin of her entrance with your middle finger, the edge a bit more firm and defined.
Your eyes closed as your brain turned into mush.
She sighed, content and needy.
"You are so fucking beautiful..." you whispered.
"Y/nnnnn..." she moaned your name again.
You would die for her and her sounds.
She tilted her pelvis away and back, rubbing against your hand.
Your eyes fluttered open.
She was chasing friction.
You pressed all of your fingers together and began moving them in sync.
She felt weak.
You rubbed her forwards and backwards, then settled your palm over her pubic bone and used your middle and index fingers to rub circles over her clit.
"Oh, fuck~"
"Hmmm?"
"Oooooh, yeah~"
You bit your lower lip, resting your forehead on her shoulder. The view was gorgeous.
"Yeaah~ Yeah-hah! Mmmmmh..."
Your other hand squeezed her breast again. You moved your thumb over her nipple and she tightened her grips on you.
"Oh, Wanda..."
"You are so perfect for me..." She exhaled between pants.
You let out a strained noise at that and she grinned for a second, before taking a sharp inhale.
"Keep going, pretty girl..." Your breath hitched, but you felt a rush of energy at the praise. "Oh, keep going... Yes, yes, yes..."
You leaned down and licked her free nipple, eliciting another keen.
"Oooooh, this feels so gooood~" she whined, the hair on your forearm coming to brush your hair away from your face. "You... you feel so good... Mmmmm, Y/nnnnn..."
"You wanna cum for me?"
You also wanted to call her something, but you didn't even know what, she was simply divine.
Wanda opened her mouth to speak, but...
You inserted a finger past her entrance and she immediately clenched around you, but that didn't stop it from going in and out so, so easy.
You added another and the neediness in her sounds amplified.
You rubbed her warm vagina, in and out, exploring all the softness, bumps and ridges. Her walls were contracting around your fingers.
You started searching for something... upon finding it you fastened your pumping.
Wanda was hyperventilating. Entirely at your mercy now.
You scratched the spongey area and used your palm to rub her clit, the combo triggering a throaty moan out of her - one that would be forever branded in your subconscious, and one that burned straight into the depths of your abdomen.
"I'm close..." she whispered, but you didn't really need the confirmation.
You wondered how long she waited for you to enter the room.
What did she imagine when she chose that tight top, knowing what it'd do to you?
How long did the anticipation leak onto her underwear?
Did she wet herself even more when she saw you starstruck?
Did she feel it slowly gush out of her as you kept faltering and hesitating?
Did she almost hear your dirty thoughts and see the filthy images of your imagination?
Your hand was thoroughly lathered in her essence.
You knew the answer.
You slid your hand from her breast and caressed her skin down to the back of her waist. Guiding her you switched places, but it seemed like she didn't even notice, too lost in the moment. You gently pushed her to lean on the wall that you warmed up. She got comfortable again, relaxing a bit as she caught her breath.
You kissed her neck again and made your way down to her breasts.
Naturally both of you crouched slightly - her body reacting to you and instinctively giving you more space, while you chased the need to latch onto her nipples again - it was comforting, it was soft, it made her make extra sounds, and it was so addicting.
You licked one of them and she writhed against you. Her back arched, her sounds telling you that you are doing so good.
Her breathing became frantic and you ramped up your pace, the increase of volume in her voice telling you you're doing it exactly how you're supposed to.
Exactly how she imagined.
Exactly how she wanted you to ruin her all along.
You moved one of your knees between her legs, just preparing for her to go limp any moment now.
Your other hand went back to her neglected breast and your thumb brushed over her sensitive nipple. You recognized the spiking pleasure in her vocals. You tickled it and the dual stimulation made her torso jolt before she arched her back again. Her pelvis trembled against your dominant hand. You used your index to help your thumb roll the little nub and she inhaled loudly.
She came.
The neediest cry that almost made you join her right then and there.
Her legs shook and you felt a little spray of hot liquid, and you kissed the wet nipple before parting from it and looking down. The skin above your palm had a few droplets.
She squirted on you.
The revelation made you groan and bury your head in her neck.
Gradually you slowed your movements, the volume of her moans syncing with them.
Your non-dominant hand found place at her nape and coaxed her to relax against you and you embraced her properly.
Slowly pulling your fingers out of her, you couldn't resist massaging her flappy lips a few more times before cupping her whole vulva in affection.
She hugged you.
You planted a small kiss on the side of her neck and deeply inhaled her scent, and she hummed in acknowledgment. Not just of the kiss, of everything.
"That was my favorite thing."
"What was?" She slurred. Her hazy mind had an idea of what you were talking about, but all word meanings felt so far away she couldn't assimilate what you were saying.
"You."
"Oooh-" she cooed, but you cut her off.
"I-... love you."
She pulled away to meet your eyes.
In this moment you were so sure that waking up every morning without seeing your favorite shade of green would make your life dull, no matter how content you are with everything you've accomplished and have and think and do...
The two of you didn't have a normal friendship - dancing around obvious feelings for so long, knowing and purposefully not admitting, turning it into a complicated game of emotions and tease, but she was the one who made the boldest move out of the two. Now you knew for sure that she'd make your life so much more wild and interesting.
It was scary, this admission, but it felt right.
She felt right.
And you knew that sometimes the scariest things are the right ones.
She scared you in an impossible way.
She cupped your cheek and kissed you, you returned immediately.
Her lips were so soft, you wanted a kiss from her to be the last thing you get to do before you die.
The first thing you touch every morning and evening.
The only smile you'd search for when you need comfort or love, hope or are simply bored.
The only smile you'd look for when you do something funny.
The only lips that would heal and ruin you from now on.
Her hand scratched your scalp and you smiled into the kiss. She broke it to look at you.
"Mine?" She smiled.
"Yours." Both of you grinned and then giggled at the whole situation, feeling such relief, as if you passed something so huge and now it was kinda funny how much you were stressing.
Her hands moved out of your hair and hung around your neck in a loose, intimate hug.
You touched foreheads and your lines of sight naturally fell down between the two of you, your eyes slowing at her breasts, before landing on your hand that was still in her panties. Wanda shifted her weight and clenched her thigh muscles. Her eyes darted up at yours and she smirked, then pressed her lips thin. You bit your lower lip.
tags: smut, fingering, angst, cheating, brief implication of homophobia. MINORS DNI.
word count: 4700
summary: Unbeknownst to Thérèse that you've learned about her affair with Laurent, she begins to suspect you have a lover. She spends her every moment with you henceforth, determined to make you hers again.
a/n: i attempted to write from a naturalist perspective :> which was thrilling and equally as difficult
gif credit to creator.
“I’m leaving!” Thérèse had called back to you as you rummaged through the shelfs, dividing nylon thread from polyester ones and storing them separately. Within the last fortnight, she was away from the shop more often than not. “I’ll be back late tonight with the ribbon we need,” she said.
Thérèse returned later that evening, as she promised.
But you had tired of seeing her by then, even when she peppered your cheeks with kisses and brought back with her four handfuls of the spools of the required ribbon.
You were not able to see her undressing at the end of the night in your shared bedroom, stepping out of her crinoline and unlacing her corset, without envisioning the handsome dark-haired Laurent and his wandering hands nor the intimate sights he might have seen of your maiden.
It was not the idea that someone else had shared in the experience of bestowing their eyes onto Thérèse’s fair skin and bare body that ate at you, but instead that partnership was meant to mean exclusivity. At least, that was what Thérèse had always preached into your ear and in the tight embrace of her arms.
Hours ago, you had followed her discreetly to the Seine and saw her sprawled out by the riverbank, tranquil and happy as she laid in the cool shadow of a great oak tree. A man was perched on his elbow laying beside her, his fingers running down the side of her face delicately, then to her chin where his thumb brushed across her bottom lip.
You did know of Laurent; the childhood friend of Thérèse’s cousin Camille, who you had not seen since he and his mother moved away once you and Thérèse started overseeing the haberdashery together.
Laurent was a dashing man, or so you assumed from the meaningful stares he would exchange with any woman he came within fifteen feet of.
Before you left your previous occupation to work with Thérèse at the haberdashery, you’d worked with Laurent. You would have never considered him to be anything more than an acquaintance, for the truth was that he irritated you, and sometimes you despised him. He was an arrogant lazy oaf, and should he ever come into any deal of money, no matter how small, you knew he would have never come into work.
He lazed around and did just enough to impress the superiors, getting around by flashing a few smiles and discussing his creative history with beautiful naked models for his beautifully understated pieces of art. You could not remember what kind of artist he was, if one could ever stomach calling him such, but it was not significant to you as you continued to watch him interact with Thérèse.
In an instinctual jerk of your body as if reacting to a sudden noise, you turned your head when the man lowered his face to hers. Their lips met tenderly. Despite yourself, you peeked over, beyond the grand oak tree, to find Laurent looking deeply into your maiden’s eyes. He lifted himself up so their lips could part and he could look down at her while Thérèse grinned, her chest fluttering with her soft giggles.
Dozens of hushed secrets were exchanged within that silent stare and you abhorred yourself for wanting to know them.
Presently, Thérèse embraces you from behind, unbuttoning the collar of your dress. She hushes you when your shoulders tense, uttering a quiet, “Shh-shh-shh.”
You look ahead at the wardrobe you’re facing, your body stiff as Thérèse’s hands work nimbly at undressing you.
A dim candle flickers on top of a table in the corner of the bedroom, enveloping the entire room in a warm shade of orange. From the nightstand beside the bed at the other side of the bedroom, an off-white light gleams and casts Thérèse’s shadow against your back and the top of her head over your shoulder and against the wardrobe.
When your corset is undone and is placed atop of your skirts on the floor, Thérèse pushes your crinoline down your legs and you step out of it, moving to the side and finally slipping out of her arms.
The both of you stand in the silent shadowed room in your chemises and undone hair.
Before you met her, Thérèse was a sombre, serious woman, so still and silent that one might have believed she was slumbering when she was sitting in the chair behind the shop’s counter or tending to the Thursday evening guests in her seat beside the window and away from the night’s events had it not been for the way her eyes fluttered ever so slightly at any rupture of noise and the hypnotic curling of her pale fingers as she stroked the Raquin family’s cat, François, in her lap.
Though it was nearly a year since you’d first met Thérèse and now several months since you’d known her romantically, you often felt you knew her just as much as you did that first night Camille dragged you to his mother’s shop for a game of dominoes alongside Laurent.
She reaches out to take your hand, pulling it close to her, and your arm lifts loosely.
You turn towards her and walk towards the bed because you have little else to do.
Thérèse wraps an arm around you, hugging you and burying her face against the side of your breast. Her arm drops when you lean forward and get into bed. She follows, moving close against your side until her breasts press against your upper arm.
With her fingers wrapped around the side of your neck and the corner of your jaw, she turns your head to her. Thérèse kisses you, eyebrows pushing together and exhaling a soft hum in excited relief. Her arm wraps around your waist and her free hand rounds to the back of your neck, guiding you to move on top of her.
Feeling beside yourself and with little control, you let Thérèse move your body until you’re laying on top of her, knees on either side of her thighs. Her hand moves up to the back of your head, playing with your hair and leading your face down to her neck. She moans when your lips make contact with her and you begin kissing your way to her pulse.
You no longer wanted to control yourself nor anything else, and certainly not Thérèse. You no longer wanted to take, and Therese knew of nothing but how to give.
“Please,” she huffs. “I want your fingers inside of me.”
You oblige without knowing why. Perhaps you do it out of instinct; not knowing what else you would’ve done if you had declined. You push her nightgown up her thighs and she rubs her knee against your side.
Thérèse is the only woman you’ve ever known intimately. Her long dark-brown hair fans out against the pillow her head lays on. The lamp from the nightstand illuminates her face with a warm radiance, creating the illusion that the pale shade of her skin is glowing. The curves of her figure are delicate and smooth, and for a moment you entertain being the only one to know such paths of her body.
You never imagined being with any other woman, let alone ever loving anyone but Thérèse. The thought that you may have always been right disturbs you all the more.
When your fingers find her place of pleasure and slip through her tight walls, causing Thérèse to moan out and arch up against you, you damn yourself for knowing her body so well.
You curve your fingers inside her and lean down to bury your face in her breasts, kissing up the soft swells and parting your lips to leave trails of saliva up her skin. With your free hand, you pull the collar of her slip down and wrap your lips around her nipple, then the other. You watch as her eyes screw shut and her soft pink lips part to release her whines into the bedroom.
Your insides churn as you knew she took Laurent’s cock in the same way, a sensual ritual you also knew she loved more than your fingers.
How could you ever compare to a man?
Yet she tightens her thighs around your hips and pants into your ear when you raise yourself to kiss her neck again as if she craves you more, as if she receives more pleasure from you than him. It disgusts you and you find Thérèse to be a repulsive animal who knows only of its own survival and carnal instincts. You feel you would’ve much rather she hated you.
You bring Thérèse to orgasm then climb down from her and lay back down onto your side of the bed, fingers weakly thrusting into her as she trembles and whimpers beside you.
When your fingers exit from inside her, Thérèse wraps a hand around your wrist and brings your coated fingers to her lips. She stares at you intently, a soft grin forming as she takes your fingers into her mouth, cleaning it with her tongue. Then she kisses you and places your hand on your chest.
“Shall I read to you?” she asks, mounting herself on her elbow and looking at you with a smile evident of growing excitement.
You turn over to your side, away from your partner.
The smile falls from her face and she frowns. She moves closer to you, wrapping her arm around your chest and leaning up to kiss your neck.
“Are you upset with me?” she questions, though despite her concern you can hear a twinge of lightheartedness in her tone.
Thérèse looked incredibly bored at times, dull and near dozing off, then in the next moment, taking very little seriously and laughing at every childish jest she told.
You bury your face in your pillow, increasingly discouraged as you continue to think over the discrepancies in your understanding of her. It is of no consolation to you that after seeing your maiden with a lover, you’re now beginning to realise how much you do not know about her.
Her arm around your upper body shakes you around playfully and she urges you, lips pressed against your cheek, “Tell me. Must I ask François what happened while I was away?”
Opening your eyes and pushing your pillow away from your face, you inquire, “Who accompanied you when you went out this afternoon and until the late evening? Were you alone all day?”
“Of course not,” Thérèse replies, twisting the collar of your chemise around her finger. “I was with Laurent for a bit of the day, then some of my student friends from the university he attended. But he couldn’t join us.”
“What did you do with him?” you ask, your agitation getting the better of you.
With a reply that makes you twitch in a way that surprises you when Thérèse doesn’t notice, she responds witlessly, “Why do you ask that?”
“I’m certain people see you as a couple more frequently than they do us while we live together and show every hint of being involved,” you retort, the sudden reveal of the hidden insecurity confounding even you.
Thérèse seems incredibly amused by this and she moves her leg over your hips. With her hand flat on the bed and the other on your shoulder, she hoists herself up to straddle your lower stomach while pushing you down onto your back and making you look up at her. “Laurent is only a friend,” she says then lowers herself to trail quick pecks down the incline of your jaw, “don’t be so sensitive.”
You pull the blankets over your head, feeling finished with the conversation and fooling yourself into believing you’d end it this way.
She tugs the blankets back down to uncover your face with a strength you often forget Thérèse has. She asks as if with the intention to provoke, “What if he was my lover? Would you be jealous?”
“No,” you answer plainly, lying.
“Why not?” she presses, unsatisfied with your response.
‘You’ve always fancied him,’ you want to say, and, ‘Because it would be your choice in doing so.”
But you say neither.
What good would it do?
Even if it would have been favourable to simply get your bitterness out into the open, you don’t have enough confidence nor strength to even entertain doing it.
Fortunately for you, she sleeps with her back to you that night, seemingly perturbed by your answer to her question earlier; any contact with her while you fell asleep might have conjured night terrors.
You awaken in the morning with Thérèse’s arm around your midriff anyways, perhaps having chosen to forgive you during the night or as result of a habitual act, rejecting the troubled feelings she felt even as she was asleep.
She stays asleep while you slip out from under her arm and stand from the bed.
Hours you’ve spent staring at Thérèse’s sleeping face since you ravished her body intimately that first time you spent the night together. You listened intently to every soft breath she took, watched the faint fluttering of her eyelids as she dreamt, smiled at the quiet noises she would sometimes make in her sleep.
You swore your heart truly did do several somersaults when you heard her mutter out your name in her sleep once. That entire day was spent smiling giddily while Thérèse pressed you to tell her what had gotten you so joyful, to which you only responded each time she asked with kisses that made her giggle and declarations of your love that made her swoon.
But this morning you avoid looking at her.
How many times had Laurent seen the same sight, loved her as you do? Where do his hands travel as he watches the rising and falling of her partially uncovered breasts and the vulnerability of her soft lips? Did Thérèse like how he woke her up more than how you did, which was often with a soft kiss to her forehead or not at all?
Such thoughts ate at you from the inside, and because you were dignified, you chose to look away from Thérèse when you could.
The shop needs to be tended to and Thérèse, despite everything, cannot run it herself for the entirety of the day, so leaving until the evening is out of the question.
You heat water in a steel pitcher in the fireplace. You cut a few slices of bread, lather it in jelly, and place bits of cheese on top of it evenly.
As you sit in the kitchen, fingernails running down the lines in the wooden table, eating your bread and sipping your tea, you silently question how you’d approach today.
If Thérèse left again as she has been for the last few weeks, you’d let her without question. The time away from her would be rejuvenating, in many senses. Perhaps you’d clear your mind, think up a plan. But a plan for what, you did not know.
Thérèse descends the arcade and you feel yourself bristle, damning yourself for not having finished your breakfast in time to leave the kitchen before she arrived.
Seeing the hot water still in the kettle by the fireplace, Thérèse takes it with her and places it in front of you on the table. She rounds the chairs and lowers herself to you, a hand coming to place itself on your furthest cheek before kissing your temple. “I apologise for antagonising you last night,” she says.
Her thumb runs across your chin and when her hand removes itself from your cheek, her fingers move down your cheek, caressing you tenderly. She pined for you the moment she woke up to find you weren’t in bed, reconsidering for several moments what she had said to you the evening prior.
She doesn’t badger you any further when you don’t respond, only making herself tea and spreading jelly onto one of the bread slices you cut earlier. She takes a seat beside you, adjacently, as you’re sitting at the end of the table.
Not a word is shared between the two of you, with Thérèse giving you time to become less irritated and you delighting in every moment you did not have to partake in conversation with her, until you both leave the kitchen after breakfast to open the shop together.
For the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, Thérèse sits behind the counter with François in her lap, petting him idly. You sit behind the counter, near her, fidgeting with various kinds of beads and thread and ribbon. The bubbling agitation she knows is brewing within you drives Thérèse slightly mad as she’s forced to watch you for hours.
Eventually, when the peak of the afternoon plateaus and working men and errand-running women finish dropping by the haberdashery during their lunchtimes, Thérèse reaches her limit in being patient with you.
François leaps off from her lap when her thighs shift under her skirts. Thérèse stands from her seat and wraps an arm around your shoulders. She rounds you and swings a leg over your knees before sitting herself down in your lap. She wraps her other arm around your neck and pulls herself close to you.
Thérèse lifts her hand to your forehead, pushing your hair back and placing a kiss there. “I wish to pleasure you,” she says and kisses your lips. “What shall I do?”
“I wish for nothing.”
“I want for you what you give to me.”
At the sound of the word, you perk up and look up at Thérèse, who is looking down at you with a warm smile you’d thought for months was only for you. Unbeknownst to you, Thérèse has never looked at Laurent like she looks at you, for she doesn't love him at all. She holds no sentiment for him.
But again, you look away from her and stubbornly reply, “I am comfortable with the arrangement we have now.”
Therese’s smile falls and she follows your redirected gaze with her eyes, her lips parting as something grave settles within her.
For the first time, Thérèse suspects you have a lover.
She begins to see Laurent infrequently, if at all. She spends every waking moment with you, finding every way to service you and ravish you with her kisses and gentle touches. How could you possibly adore anyone more than her if she never took her eyes off you for a moment? It never crosses her that there are many ways for you to detest her for that very reason, and they come to you at every touch of her hand and every contact her soft lips have with your skin.
Thérèse takes pride in the time she spends with you while you dread every hour with her. She hardly ever leaves your side.
Initially, you detested the way Thérèse slipped out of the shop, waving you a sweet goodbye before disappearing into the busy crowds of Rue de Seine. But now you’d count the days until she leaves you next.
An evening comes when Thérèse is overtaken with passion. Something gnaws at her and makes her unbearably anxious, the banal days in the shop having worsened her natural habit of becoming taken with nervous thoughts. She cannot keep herself away from you, roaming her hands anywhere they could reach along your body, her breath trembling with anticipation or nerves- neither she or you could tell.
She undresses you while the two of you stand in the bedroom, kissing down the valley of your breasts through your chemise as you look up at the ceiling aimlessly.
Thérèse looks up at you to see the pleasure stricken across your face as she kneads your breast in one hand, and feels dejection come over her heavily when she is met only with disinterest.
Now desperate, she takes your wrists into either one of her hands and sits you down onto the chair by the fireplace. She climbs onto your lap and kisses your lips, then each of your fingers and your chin.
Then Thérèse’s chest flares with a sharp inhale, her breaths quickening as her anxiety further blankets her, soon to completely engulf her in doubts and terrors.
A week had passed of Thérèse’s care and concern without any notable progress. How have you been communicating with your lover? Did you truly still think of them when she was pleasuring you with her tongue or making you meals, kissing you to sleep as to banish your night terrors and taking up extra responsibilities in the shop for you? She herself forgets about Laurent most days.
“Do you think I don’t know about your lover?” she snaps suddenly, straightening herself and looking down at you. Her expression is riddled with more fright than fury, even as the red-orange light from the fireplace casts angry flames onto her face.
Like the inginiting flicker of a match, you burst up from your seat, forcing Thérèse off of your lap and nearly sending her tumbling to the floor had it not been for the quick reflex of her left foot. Your sudden passionate burst of emotion soothes Thérèse’s anxieties momentarily, but they return when you begin shouting at her.
“I have a lover?” you repeat, eyes wide and wild with wrath. At the sound of your voice and having never heard you so angry before, Thérèse stays silent, now unsure of her previous resolve. “Jest about it as much as you wish, but I know about Laurent and the relations you have with him behind my back.”
Thérèse wants to sink into herself.
“You selfish bitch, never thinking even once of me and only of yourself,” you jeer.
Her shoulders raise as she bristles. “You are correct about my affair with Laurent, but you could not be more wrong saying that I am selfish,” she opposes.
“Enlighten me, Thérèse.”
“I’ve spent this entire week tending to you, doing everything for you to abandon this imaginary mistress and become mine once more,” she argues. Her lips part to argue again but you scoff and interrupt her.
“Heaven forbid you pay any mind to your partner,” you say.
Thérèse’s anxiety returns when she silently questions if any of her gestures ever warmed your heart as she had intended for them to, and if you were involved with other people, she wouldn’t have won you over with any of the attempts she made anyways.
“Why did you begin seeing Laurent?” you question, your expression calm once more and only adding to the young woman’s nerves.
To Thérèse, her affair with Laurent is as necessary as sleep is to any creature, and being with you is as necessary as the rest of the waking day is. Could she not love being awake more? Did she damn the waking hours if she should fall asleep in the evening? To her, the answer is simple. Her reasoning is simple.
But you did not see it that way.
There is curiosity and the exploration of another, a man, especially, as the centre of her affair. What harm could it have done if Thérèse continued to love you all the same, if not more every day? Your response to her affair contrasts her very values, the foundation in which she ever began the affair with Laurent. It confounds her more than anything, and she pleads for your forgiveness because she wouldn’t be able to bear the consequences of what she’d done, particularly if they meant you would leave her.
She takes your hands into hers and squeezes them.
“Please, I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’ve stopped seeing him. You’ve noticed, haven’t you? I haven’t spent even an afternoon without you, and I don’t think of him at all. I’ve enjoyed caring for you, I’ll show you. Whatever you need, I will provide for you. I love you.”
Simply, you ask, “Why did you avoid answering my question that evening when I asked you what you did with him?”
When Thérèse struggles to answer, you take your hands from her and leave, choosing to sleep in the spare room that used to be Madame’s.
You force Thérèse to sign off on a cheque that gives you half of your rightful claim to the rest of the money Madame left the two of you after she settled with Camille someplace else. It will be enough to move away and find a job, especially now that you have several years’ worth of experience in accounting and a few months in the haberdashery business.
Thérèse writes to you often, and to many of her letters you never reply or even bother opening. She seals it with wax dyed with your favourite colour and prints your name and mailing post in the most delicate way on the envelope. In many ways, the letter on its own is every kiss and embrace she wishes to give you, and you sometimes cannot even give her the pleasure of doing anything more than taking it from the mailbox and tossing it into the fireplace.
You’ve never told her your address, only the post to which she could send her letters to.
Never forgetting to miss a week, a letter comes to you from Thérèse every Monday.
When you do decide to open them, you do so because of curiosity- not out of concern or the feeling of obligation. Every week, Thérèse never fails to send you a letter, which you can feel with your fingers through the envelope filled with several sheets of paper.
What could she be writing so much about every week when she often got no more than a letter back every three fortnights?
She sometimes discusses the shop’s patrons with you, asking whether you believe red or black thread would work with a certain sleeve, or a front or back stitch on a certain hemming. Such things you often used to discusse with Thérèse when you worked together. It was a pleasure to work with someone you loved, being close to them and sharing creative ideas back and forth as you stitched and ironed together. There was little chance you could get back to her by the time the order needed to be finished, so you never understood why she kept writing about silly details like that.
Paragraphs, and sometimes an entire page, would be dedicated to asking you questions, inquiring if you were at the very least living by the Seine or if you enjoyed your job and have finally settled into your new place, and if you’d ever consider visiting Passage du Pont-Neuf, even if only for a week in the summer.
She ensures in every letter that you know she would welcome you back if you ever find yourself without anywhere else to go or if you were only visiting. If she ever thinks about you coming back to stay with her again, which she very often does, she never writes about it for the fear you’d never write back to her.
Though she has implied her curiosity many times, you never tell her whether you have begun a relationship with anyone. She did not deserve to know even that.
When you choose to take the time to do so, you write back with nearly the same answers, but Thérèse is no less thrilled each time she opens the mailbox and sees your envelope. You get a letter back twice as quickly when you send one out to her, while she still never forgets to send you another that weekend so as to ensure it arrives by Monday.
You never plan to visit Thérèse, and somewhere within her endless questions and offers for you to stay in the extra room during the summer, she finds herself knowing it too.
A year has passed since you left the young woman, and a year since you’ve seen the haberdashery or Rue de Seine.
You finish reading the stack of papers in your hands- your letter for the week.
Your eyes then run across the delicate handwriting in the lower corner of the page that reads: ‘Yours always, Thérèse Raquin.’
saving room for dessert | wanda maximoff & fem!reader
Dinner with the new neighbours sets you on edge due to the repeated subtle passes made at your wife. You reestablish your ownership over Wanda in the kitchen while your guests wait for dessert in the dining room.
Word count: 6864
Tags | MDNI: smut, domestic fluff, humour, jealousy, possessiveness, reader has a penis, handjobs, brief thigh fucking, daddy kink, degradation, but way more praise, what is the word for almost getting caught fucking in the room beside the dinner guests??, sub!wanda maximoff
A/N: the corny alliteration of vision and virginia's name was not my doing it is based on his comic series ndskjfnkjfn
The town of Westview was a rather quiet one, though both you and your wife really loved the neighbourhood community, for it was friendly and close-knit. When you first moved into Westview together, it was because Wanda’s job had relocated her to somewhere further than where you had previously lived, and close to the charming town that was alike to the kind you had always talked about living in together.
Both of you were delighted to find that the people of Westview were welcoming and kind, and that there were frequently tourists that made the small town buzz with life, for Westview’s small-town charm along with its infamous preservation of its older architecture and landscape was a sight that many of those from the more bustling areas of New Jersey enjoyed visiting.
Though Westview had a tightly-knit community and a steady flow of cheerful tourists, it was rather uncommon for the small town to get new people moving in, so when one of the new neighbours ended up working alongside Wanda, the two of you were rather eager to get to know them — a long-time married couple with two children who’d graduated from college and were now living elsewhere.
After about two weeks of scheduling between the four of you, dinner that had long been spoken about was finally happening at yours and Wanda’s.
You were looking forward to it, for Wanda spoke quite highly of the wife, who she described as an extremely kind and funny woman. You had spoken with her a few times too, but only by chance like under casual circumstances when you were bringing in groceries with Wanda and she was out gardening.
Additionally, Virginia, the wife, lived in Russia until she was eight, and though Wanda was Sokovian, the two were able to initially enjoy discussing their Slavic similarities in culture and dialect until they became closer, chatting casually about things from their spouses to Westview. Eventually, conversation led up to Wanda inviting Virginia and her husband, Vision, over for dinner.
You were looking forward to it, and though Wanda was looking forward to dinner with the neighbours too, she also enjoyed hosting and cooking, and so the kitchen was busy and smelling wonderfully for the last little while as you cooked together.
Mostly, it was Wanda who took the lead with cooking, but since being married, her talents had rubbed off on you; you could now dice onions at perhaps two-thirds of the speed she could, and Wanda also always says you’re good at cleaning up after her while she cooks.
But also, you really just loved doing things like this with her, when you could just talk about anything, just the two of you, while doing things you could only dream about when the two of you were still only dating, living in a place together that you could also only dream about back then.
You wrapped your arm around your wife’s waist once she slid the potato dauphinoise into the oven and shut it, pulling her into your body and kissing her forehead. “I love you,” you uttered into her warm skin.
She held your chin in her hand and angled your face to hers so she was able to kiss your lips. “I love you too,” she replied, smiling sweetly at you.
Your guests were five minutes early, perhaps to make a good impression, for they could have been exactly on time if they so preferred seeing as though they lived right next door.
It was you who opened the door as Wanda was finishing up a few things in the kitchen, ensuring the cheesecake you had made earlier was comfortably sitting in the fridge waiting until it was time to serve dessert.
Also, she thought it’d be a good impression for you to greet them first, since you’d yet to meet either of them officially.
Cheesecake was actually your signature greatest achievement in the kitchen aside from nearly — not nearly at all, really, but you like to boast — keeping up Wanda’s onion-chopping. You’d taken the cheesecake recipe from a cookbook, and it was Wanda who adjusted most of the measurements and changed some of the ingredients, but it was you who could make it perfectly.
Well, Wanda could make it perfectly too, and probably better, but she never tried; she liked the way you made it, and gave you recipe credit though it was her who really reconstructed it to be what it tasted like now. But she always says that it was you who found the original recipe, at the end of the day.
Not that any of that would matter to your guests, and maybe it might be a story told over dinner if the topic came up, but it mattered plenty to you and Wanda; you wanted to concoct a special dinner together, preparing dishes with special meaning. Though some of said meanings were not as profound in their history as the cheesecake’s, like how Wanda lathered the dinner rolls in butter a second time halfway through because you liked when the top of the rolls weren’t completely dry by the time they were finished baking.
In any case, the intention was to host a dinner that was friendly and warm, and so the dinner spread was selected with intention.
“Hi,” you greeted with a smile, waving a bit awkwardly for no reason at all before ushering them into the foyer and closing the front door behind them. “You must be Virginia — I’ve heard lots about you from Wanda.”
The woman, slightly taller than you and with smooth, soft looking dark hair that ended at the mid-way point of her slender neck, beamed at you as she stepped into the house, her husband following behind her. She took your hand with both of hers, warm fingers caressing your hand gently. “And you must be Y/N. I’ve also heard quite a bit about you from Wanda,” she said, eyes crinkling at their edges as she smiled.
She gestured to her husband, a clean-shaved blonde man with aviators, slightly shorter than his wife but still a bit taller than you. “This is my husband, Vision,” she introduced. “I don’t believe even Wanda’s yet met his acquaintance.”
It was when Vision shifted the lidded ceramic bowl into his other hand to free one in order to shake your hand that you realised he was carrying something. You shook his hand with a friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said cordially and with a smile.
“Virginia!” Wanda cheerfully greeted as she walked into the foyer, hair fixed up and now without her cooking apron on. They exchanged a hug and Virginia kissed her cheek before introducing Wanda to her husband.
“Thank you for having us,” Virginia said appreciatively. “We’re both thrilled to finally get to know both of you better.”
Wanda replied, sharing a tenderness with Virginia within their met eyes, “You’re very welcome. Y/N and I have been looking forward to tonight all week.”
“Oh,” you interjected softly, realising Vision was still holding his ceramic bowl. “I’m so sorry, let me take this into the dining room for you.”
“In fact, I’ll also take the both of you into the dining room too,” Wanda added lightheartedly. “Let’s get out of the foyer. You can set your shoes down anywhere by the door, and the coat rack’s right here.”
Once wine had been poured and everyone’s plates were served the dinner you and Wanda had made together — pomegranate-brined chicken with white balsamic charred peach, potato dauphinoise, and a medley of some vegetables — you each sat at the dining room table, enjoying your dinner together.
There was conversation about how wonderfully everything tasted, and you were sure to credit Wanda with taking charge in the kitchen, allowing her to talk a little bit about how she prepared the meal and delving into details the couple asked her about, like how she had made the potato dauphinoise so creamy.
You began to truly enjoy their company for how much they were complimenting your wife.
Until there was Vision’s, You’re a gorgeous woman who can put together an equally as gorgeous dinner spread — Y/N’s hit the jackpot.
“Dinner couldn’t have been done without Y/N,” Wanda assured and then looked at you with a proud smile mostly meant for your eyes, but you weren’t paying as much attention to her as you were scrutinising Vision’s body language after his comment.
It wasn’t… inherently malicious.
But there was something implicative in his wording that made you slightly sceptical of him.
Perhaps in an attempt to… Well, you actually weren’t entirely sure what Virginia was attempting to do when she lightly corrected, “Both Y/N and Wanda have hit the jackpot finding each other. You two seem so perfect for each other. Not to mention, if I might be so blunt, you’re a rather attractive couple.”
Wanda laughed, but in the way she regarded Virginia’s expression for just an additional moment before looking back down to her plate to respond with something humble and bashful, you knew she was also curious about the other couple’s compliments.
“I moved the wine around!” you tried, intentionally poorly, to call after Wanda when conversation came around to discussing the different wines you had, resulting in Wanda leaving to go get one the opposite couple loved. “Sorry, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t believe I’ve yet told her how I reorganised down there.”
As you headed down the hallway, you inhaled and exhaled thoroughly to untie the uneasy kink in your stomach, sure to keep your shoulders still so your tenseness wasn’t obvious to your guests who could still see your back until you headed downstairs to where the wine was kept, for their comments hadn’t stopped since the first time.
Wanda looked over her shoulder at you when you descended the stairs and she straightened from looking around at the selection. “Baby, do we still have the Pinot Grigio they were asking about?” she asked, hands on her hips as she leaned back a bit and ran her eyes over the selection on the wall in front of her.
“Are they swingers or something?” you asked as you approached, placing a hand atop Wanda’s hand on her hip as you reached around her and took the white from the wall to her left.
“Oh, you moved them,” Wanda noted, thanking you when you handed it to her.
You stood beside her in front of the wine rack and repeated your question, looking up at the closed basement door before asking again. “Are they swingers?”
“What?” Wanda looked up from surveying the wine, looking confused. “What are swingers?”
Clarifying, you replied, “Couples who sleep with other couples.”
“Them?” she asked incredulously and laughed. You took that as a ‘no,’ then looked over at the basement door curiously as if you could see them through it, ruminating over their comments. Then Wanda was silent and unmoving and you looked at her as she was tapping her fingers against the glass of wine, seemingly in deep thought of her own. “Well… Come to think of it…”
“Wanda!” you hissed. “You invited swingers over to our place for dinner!”
“I didn’t know!” she answered. “I just thought… Virginia talks about her sex life often and I suppose there are some times that she’s alluded to… to swinging about with other couples—”
“It sounds weird when you use that term like that — just say sleeping with,” you interrupted.
Your wife gave you a look and you cracked a tiny amused smile before she continued. “Anyway, yes, I suppose they’re swingers. I didn’t know!”
With your arms crossed, you tapped your fingers against your upper arm in thought, and Wanda supposed you were thinking of how to converse with them now that you both knew they were swingers. But instead you asked hesitantly, meeting Wanda’s eyes, “Are you… interested in that?”
Wanda scoffed. “Y/N, no. Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied. You surveyed her face for a moment longer and she fully turned her body to face you. “You really think I want to sleep with other couples?”
“No, I don’t, but we’ve never had the conversation before, so it’s possible that you’ve had it on your mind before, even in passing.”
She assured, “I do not want to sleep with anyone else but you.” It was almost funny to hear those words come out of her if you thought about it with no context, but context given, it was really a relief to you. “I’m entirely satisfied with only us, and the thought of being with anyone else disturbs me greatly. I’m not offended that you asked just to make sure, but the idea of being with another couple, or anyone but you, has never been anything that I’ve entertained. Y/N, I didn’t even know what swinging was until a moment ago.”
“Okay?” she checked in, her voice soft, letting her other hand with the wine hang by her hip while she stepped towards you and cupped your cheek with a warm hand. “I really didn’t know — and not even subconsciously, if you’re thinking that.”
“Okay,” you confirmed and smiled at her, causing Wanda to smile at you in response. She leaned forward and kissed you.
When she pulled away, she met your eyes and your chest warmed when Wanda’s smile crinkled the sides of her eyes. Her thumb rubbed against your chin adoringly. “I’m unsure how we ought to go about signalling a lack of interest in having sex with them,” she told you.
“Just a lack of reciprocation, maybe?” you suggested, and at that, you perked up at the recollection of their commentary that you now knew was flirtatious. “Wanda, if Vision calls you gorgeous one more time, I’ll fuck you over the dining table monogamously in front of them — I’m serious. It’s driving me crazy. He’s right, but to know they’re both just thinking of how much more gorgeous you’d be if we were all having sex is rather startling.”
It wasn’t that they weren’t making subtle passes at you too, but since Wanda was far more communicative and talkative, it was natural that their efforts to become closer circulated your wife far more than it did you.
Wanda laughed and pushed at your shoulder playfully, her head thrown back slightly. “You’re such a freak,” she said. She took your hand and you headed out of the basement together. “It’s okay. Now that we’ve spoken about it together, I’m sure it’ll be much less awkward since we know they’re swingers. It likely won’t be a problem until they bring it up, and then we can clarify that we’re not interested.”
The plan was more than simple, but it failed to consider how agitated you were becoming, little comments now seeming much larger now that their intentions were clarified between you and your wife.
It was things from Virginia noting how you seemed to be the one to ‘take charge’ in the marriage, to asking outright how often the two of you had sex, about children and the possibility of them, and plenty of other things that were likely of no consequence but seemed irritating to you because you were simply irritated.
Mostly, it was Virginia’s comments that were permitted to be slightly more vulgar as it was she who asked about yours and Wanda’s sex life, for she was now more than only work friends with your wife, and she’d shared much about her own intimate tendencies with Vision before.
The conversations about sex weren’t crude, and mostly they were merely jokes, but knowing the intentionality behind them now made them far more than that.
But it was about more than references to sex; there were comments made about how both you and Wanda were such a perfect couple, how well you worked together and how kind you were — observations upon observations about how you and Wanda were within your marriage.
It seemed they had standards, at least.
And truly, Virginia and Vision were kind people and you would thoroughly enjoy having them as neighbours as soon as it was made clear that you and Wanda weren’t interested in sleeping with them.
What irritated you wasn’t necessarily all about them and their commentary, for they knew not that you and Wanda weren’t interested, and anyways, if Virginia had been alluding to being a swinger along with her husband on several occasions, this dinner might very well be interpreted by them as interest.
So you didn’t necessarily dislike them.
It was all true that you and Wanda made a wonderful pair and that Wanda was gentle and so generous, and that she was beautiful and all the things that had been said about her tonight.
She was very funny too when she wanted to be, and had great taste in movies and all her clothes always sat so well on her shoulders, and her hair was always so soft and the crook of her neck was always very warm, and her fingers were gentle and curious when she had them wrapped around you, and she was so delicate when she slept, and her elbows were a nice shape, though you don’t think you ever told her what you thought about her elbows — all this Virginia and Vision didn’t know, but for whatever reason, you thought so much about it all.
And for another inexplicable reason, it was rather related to how irritated you were.
“Y/N and I have been married for two and a half-ish years now,” Wanda said in response to a question you weren’t listening to, placing her hand on your thigh. You looked over at her and she smiled at you sweetly.
You’d only said a few things in the last few minutes, little comments and visible reactions to show that you were engaged in the conversation, but nothing majorly contributory. You looked to the side in brief thought then said, “Two years and… seven months.”
With a second more to think, you also added, “Three days.”
Wanda thought that was funny, but also sweet, and her smile widened, perking up her ears slightly as her smile grew. She squeezed your knee and pulled her hand away to take a sip of wine. “Indeed — two years, eight months, and three days.”
“If we feel so inclined to place trust in my math,” you joked modestly.
You watched as Wanda conversed further with your guests, watching the way she laughed and how she looked over at you often to see your reactions to things or to just make eye contact with you. Specifically, you liked when she looked at you while she was laughing to see if you were also laughing, to share in that joy with you.
As you watched your wife between sips of wine, there was a rupture of adrenaline that came over you. All that you’d been thinking of about Wanda wasn’t some abstract concept about some idea of Wanda — they were all about the woman you loved, the woman who loved you, the woman you were married to.
The woman who was yours, and who’d only ever be yours, as you were hers.
The thought warmed you and made you feel delighted, but your cheeks felt warm and the wine warmed your throat and chest in such a pleasant way, and suddenly, you needed Wanda then and there like you knew you had her.
“Are we all ready for dessert?” Wanda asked, looking around at the table to see everyone’s plates empty with their silverware to the side.
When Vision confirmed for both himself and Virginia, Wanda said, “Y/N’s made a wonderful cheesecake for the occasion. She can be quite the chef.” Her praise made you feel a bit bashful and you smiled at her gratefully.
Virginia expressed excitement for dessert while you and Wanda collected the empty plates to bring to the kitchen, letting them know it’d be a few minutes.
You followed behind Wanda as she headed down the hallway and into the kitchen. Dishes were thoroughly emptied and rinsed before being placed into the sink while Wanda carefully took the cheesecake out of the fridge.
“Can you take this?” she asked, holding the cake out to you. You took it from her and placed it on the island counter at the centre of the kitchen. “I think I’ll slice some fresh fruit and arrange it nicely on top. I didn’t want to do it before it was served or it wouldn’t be fresh.”
You were listening, but not quite taking in what she was saying. You watched her closely as she took out some fruits and honey from the fridge and brought it to the counter before taking out the cutting board. She tucked loose hair behind her ears and pushed her sleeves up.
Her neck was exposed and you felt the urge to smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her skin against the tip of your nose.
You stepped forward so your pelvis was pressed against her hip, an arm wrapped around her waist as you pulled her close and ducked your head beyond the strands of her hair, burying your nose in her neck. She tipped her head to the side, allowing you room to kiss up her neck.
You felt the vibrations of her laugh against your lips.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I need you,” you answered briefly, using your other hand to tug her sleeve down slightly and expose some of her shoulder so you could kiss there too. There was no response from her aside from a soft hum, and you knew it had been on her mind too. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about it; all their implications have made me think of you all night.”
“And that constitutes you needing me now?” she asked, turning her head to look down at your face along the slope of your nose and forehead seeing as your face was still half-buried within the crook of her neck. “I would have thought you’d be too busy brooding.”
She was trying half-heartedly to taper your desire, but the soft inflection in her voice told you she’d certainly felt the same thrum you’d been feeling too.
“I was busy with far more important things.” You wrapped your fingers around her wrist carefully and led her hand down to between your hips, and in spite of her hesitation, Wanda’s fingers wrapped delicately around you through your pants. Your hips immediately bucked into her hand.
Wanda inhaled sharply then sighed at the feeling of you. “Y/N…” Your name trembled on her lips. You watched as she swallowed, eyes flickering up at the hallway in front of you both. Her jaw tensed and she looked back down, fingers twitching as she internally fought against her most rational objections.
She bit the inside of her cheek before her hand moved, unbuttoning your pants then unzipping. She met your eyes, her hand pausing momentarily, perhaps wishing you might change your mind suddenly and stop her before she was unable to stop herself. But you said nothing, only meeting her eyes with stubborn conviction.
Your gaze made her cheeks flush a soft pink and Wanda shifted in her spot, pushing her own hips against the edge of the island counter, no doubt feeling her own desire growing. She looked down and tucked her hand past the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down along with your pants until your cock was free.
“I’ve been thinking about having your lips around my cock,” you whispered, your lips brushing against the lobe of her ear. “About the way you groan when I pull out just enough so you can taste the way you make me feel against your tongue before I fuck myself down your throat. I thought about how beautiful your pussy looks when I lay you down and spread your cunt open. I thought about you.”
Her breathing became heavy at the sight of your arousal, seeing how you twitched as you spoke about her. Her hand wrapped around you, her thumb brushing gently over your sensitive tip and eliciting a soft grunt from you.
“Fuck, Wanda,” you cursed from beyond clenched teeth. Your hips twitched forward into her hand and Wanda didn’t wait a moment before giving you the friction you wanted, her hand jerking around you and repressing a moan of her own as she felt you throb and twitch in the warm confines of her palm.
Your arm wrapped around her waist advanced upwards, pulling up some of her shirt and exposing some of her lower stomach as your hand groped at Wanda’s clothed breast.
She let out a soft moan and you watched as she squeezed her thighs together and further pressed her pelvis into the kitchen counter in desperation. Her hand gained speed, ensuring to graze around your tip each time her hand continued its rhythm around you. Her head rested on your shoulder as she watched the way she touched you, watched the way you let her touch you, her breaths shaky as she felt her own desire climb.
But how could you deny your wife mutual pleasure?
You moved the cutting board to the side and Wanda watched as you readjusted things.
“Y/N, don’t,” she protested quietly. “We can’t.”
Ignoring her, you moved from her side, her hand releasing from around you as you placed your hands on her hips and pressed her against the counter.
You unbuttoned her pants and watched over Wanda’s shoulder as she watched your hands, her chest rising and falling, gripping the edge of the counter. She was so warm against your body and her perfume smelled so nice.
You pulled her pants down along with her underwear, allowing you to press your cock against her perfect ass.
Wanda exhaled a deep, trembling sigh and she leaned forward against the counter. “Y/N,” she weakly protested again, reaching back and trying to swat your hand away.
Impatient about wanting her to give up her hesitation, you pulled her pants down further below her ass and slotted yourself between her thighs, parting her wet cunt with your dick and brushing your tip against her clit.
Her head fell back against your shoulder and you felt her thighs squeeze together ever so slightly, nudging you up against her clit.
“We can’t?” you asked.
“They’ll…” Wanda braced herself again and straightened her back, knuckles turning white as she pressed the pads of her fingers into the underside of the counter. “They’re in the other room. We’d have to…”
“Be quick?”
She nodded.
“I can be quick,” you told her. You kissed the corner of her jaw, the hollow part behind her earlobe. “You know I can be quick.”
Your hand slid down her stomach, the heel of your hand brushing against the space between her hips before your fingers found her clit. Carefully, you brushed them against her, feeling the way she twitched her ass back against you, subtly rubbing herself against your cock that was still throbbing between her thighs.
“Beg me to fuck you.”
Wanda looked over her shoulder at you. “What?” she asked. “I thought you wanted–”
“But you were so adamant that we couldn’t. Now, I’m not so convinced myself,” you said. “You’ll have to beg me.”
“Y/N, please,” she whispered impatiently.
You gave a quick pinch to her clit and Wanda repressed a yelp as her body jolted against yours. “That’s not how you beg, baby.”
Wanda urged, “We don’t have time.”
“Make time.”
Impatient, you spanked Wanda’s ass lightly and took a handful of the soft flesh, eliciting a sharp inhale from your wife before she sighed out, “Oh, Y/N…”
She reached back, parting from your hips to make enough room for her hand. She wrapped her hand around your cock and stroked it slowly, bending herself over the counter and presenting herself to you obediently.
“Please, daddy,” she begged. “I want you inside me. I want… I want you. Please. I need you.”
You watched as her desperate hand continued to pleasure you, watched as her back arched as she bent over the counter. You pushed her shirt up her back, eyes running up the delicate curve of her spine and feeling with your palm the smoothness of her soft skin.
“Are you… Are you going to?” Wanda asked nervously, fully aware of the fact that you had every liberty to pull away and forget all about wanting to fuck her right there and then. She wasn’t exactly meeting your eyes, not that she could at the angle she was looking back over her shoulder at you, but she wasn’t exactly trying to either, for the possibility of you leaving her all desperate and unfucked was all too real.
You hummed in what sounded like consideration, but really, you were just running your eyes down the curve of Wanda’s lower back and the perfect swells of her ass, watching the way she continued to hesitantly stroke you, desperate to please and desperate to have you inside of her.
“How could I deny you, Wanda?” you finally answered, and you saw your wife flush from beyond her mess of loose strands, looking away and at the hallway ahead that led to the dining room.
“We really have to be quick,” she reminded, letting go of you but not without brushing her thumb over your tip again.
A hand came to her upper back and flattened her against the kitchen counter, a soft grunt leaving Wanda as was pressed down against the marble. “You really overestimate yourself if you really think it’ll take very long to get you to come,” you mocked, hands hooking under her hips and around her upper thighs, arching her back further and sticking her ass up.
At the sight of her cunt, you groaned and parted her sticky mess with your thumb and middle finger, brushing your index finger down across her clit. You ran your thumb across her hole, dipping ever so carefully into her before removing your hand to position yourself against her opening.
“I couldn’t help but notice,” you said, “how embarrassed and shy you were every time they mentioned sex or asked about our sex life. Trust me, there were dozens of other things running through my head, but one in particular.”
Wanda gripped at the edge of the counter, taking in a breath as she felt you prod at her opening with your tip, dipping in just enough for her to feel the stretch of your cock sliding into her. “What… What was it?” she asked quietly.
“I wondered why you felt such an urge to act so embarrassed talking about sex when you know what a fucking slut you are,” you gritted out before your hands tightened around her thighs below her hips and pulled her ass back against you so your cock slid into her with a single thrust.
You leaned forward to grunt against her shoulder, muffling your noises and letting your wife know how good she felt. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good around my dick, angel,” you groaned. “Sweet innocent girls wouldn’t be able to take cock like this, Wanda. You put up a front when you’re with them, but you know how much you love getting your pussy fucked raw by daddy. Isn’t that right?”
Wanda shut her eyes tightly, her moans and yelps being only partially-swallowed as she tried to keep them from escaping past her lips, though it become increasingly difficult as you began thrusting forward, trapping her between the kitchen counter and your hips and forcing her to withstand the entire impact of your brutal fucking.
“Th-That’s right…” she conceded.
“I know it is,” you agreed. “I know it is, because it’s fucking filthy. You’re a filthy slut, baby. You can hear it, can’t you?” You reached down to rub your fingers against your wife’s clit. “You can feel how much it turns you on that you’re all daddy’s, that daddy can fuck you whenever she wants because she owns you.”
Your forehead laid against her shoulder and Wanda reached up to cradle the back of your head with her hand, interlacing her fingers with your hair.
“That’s right. Fucking take it,” you grunted into her ear, feeling yourself growing closer each time Wanda’s walls squeezed around you, listening to her delicate high-pitched yelps every time you pinched her clit or thrusted into her so hard her ass stung with the way your skin slapped against hers.
Her hips were beginning to become sore with the way they were pressed against the edge of the counter.
“Do any of you need help in there?” Virginia called from the dining room, audibly beginning to head down the hallway to the kitchen.
“A-Ah, no!” Wanda called back, her attempts at repressing her moans making her response come out slightly more aggressive than she’d wished. “Please don’t! We’re almost finished. Just…” Her head hung as she quickly ran out of excuses, but she couldn’t bring herself to push you away — not when she was so, so close.
Not when you felt this good inside of her, holding her so close against you.
You felt so good with your arms around her.
You took a handful of Wanda’s ass as you shoved her further down against the counter so she was being soundlessly fucked from behind as her hair gradually became undone, her shirt riding up to expose that beautiful curve of her spine that you loved.
“Wanda’s a bit of a perfectionist with decorating the cake,” you added, digging your nails into her malleable flesh and watching as smooth ivory tinted into a flushed red. “She wants it to be a surprise!”
“I promise we’re… we’re nearly finished!” Wanda called back, slightly breathless, before quickly burying her face into her arms and muffling herself.
Virginia gave in, saying something about having the both of you promise not to work too hard because both she and Vision would love the cake anyways. But neither of you paid much attention once you heard her walking back down to the dining room.
“You feel so good inside of me, daddy,” Wanda whimpered into her arms. “Please come inside. I want to feel you. I wanna feel how warm you are.”
Being degraded always turned Wanda on, but it was being praised that made her come; you loved how your wife was so sensitive to sweet things like that.
So you lifted her from the counter with your arm wrapped around her waist so her arms were taut with her hands gripping the edge of the counter again. From here, you were pressed against her with access to whisper into her ear.
“You’ve been so good for me, haven’t you, sweetheart?” you complimented against her cheek, pressing a kiss there and running your hand beneath the confines of her shirt. “All nervous and hesitant to let daddy make you feel good at first, but you knew better later, didn’t you? You know that I know what’s best for you, honey.”
Wanda nodded fervently. “Yes, I…”
Your hand pulled Wanda’s bra to the side and you kneaded her breast with your hand, feeling the way her nipple hardened against your palm before moving to the other and pinching her other nipple between your thumb and forefinger. “Oh, I know,” you cooed when she leaned back against you with a prolonged, quiet moan. “My princess, you’re such a good girl.”
“Why don’t you listen to what a good girl you are, hm?” you asked, moving both your hands down to grip her hips again and pulling her against you. You watched in detail as you pulled out of her, her glistening pussy wrapped around your cock, before you thrusted back in, your obedient wife taking every inch.
Both of you listened to how her cunt sounded around your dick, her slick coating you as you throbbed inside of her, her tight walls squeezing you in just the right way, feeling the way the pressure from her walls gripped around your tip when you pulled out at just the right length.
“Fuck, baby, your pussy feels so good,” you groaned, leaning back so you could watch the way her ass looked when you rutted your hips against her. Unable to help yourself in spite of the noise you knew it might make, you delivered a spank to the side of Wanda’s ass.
You then wrapped your arm around Wanda’s waist again, your other hand moving up to cup the side of her cheek and turn her head around so you could kiss her lips. “Come on, angel, fuck yourself on daddy’s cock. Let me see how badly you wanna come on my dick.”
Wanda obediently began moving, arching her back to allow herself leverage to fuck herself back against you, listening to how her ass slapped back against your hips.
“That’s good, baby. You’re so beautiful,” you breathed out against her neck, kissing the warm expanse as you listened to Wanda whimper and try to hold herself together until you gave her permission to come. Your hand groped her breast again. “You’re so needy for daddy’s cock, hm? You’re making such a fucking mess, Wanda.”
“Y/N…” Wanda whispered, her arm reaching back to grab at the edge of your shirt. “Please let me come. Please.” You kept your chest pressed against her upper back, allowing her to meet your eyes when she turned her head to plead.
“Come all over daddy’s cock, baby, come on,” you permitted. “I love to see you all desperate for me. Let me see you come, Wanda.”
Wanda ground her ass back against your hips, burying your cock deep within her pussy as she came around you, walls gripping at your twitching cock. You felt her pulsate around you as she grasped desperately behind her, searching for your hand.
You interlaced your fingers with hers and kissed her lips as you came to your own hilt, emptying yourself inside of her and letting her feel your warm cum fill her up to the brim until you could feel yourself dripping out from the sides of her cunt.
Weakly, you continued thrusting into her, fucking your cum deep inside of her as Wanda whimpered, sensitive and still pulsing around you as she felt your sticky warmth shoot up inside of her.
“Oh… I love when you come inside of me, Y/N,” she breathed out, satisfied and tired as she let go of your hand and used both to balance herself against the counter as she slumped forward.
You grinned at her and kissed the back of her neck as you pulled her underwear up first, giving her sensitive cunt a quick swipe through her panties, telling her to keep your cum in for as long as she could. Then you did her pants back up and did the same for yourself.
The rest of the cheesecake decorating went relatively fast after Wanda quickly cleaned herself up in her kitchen window reflection.
Actually, neither of you had ever decorated a cheesecake so fast considering you decided to go a bit overboard with some whipped cream to make up for how long you both took — it would’ve made far more sense to come out with a more intricately decorated cake. It was a decently-sized cake, just enough for four people to enjoy, so it didn’t take as long as it would’ve if it were sized regularly.
“Oh, we were so worried you might’ve needed help with the dessert,” Virginia said the moment the both of you stepped into the dining room, Wanda with the cake in hand and you with the plates and silverware.
“We’re so sorry,” Wanda apologised. “One of us set the cake lopsided in the fridge and it came out a bit kooky, so we had to reshape it and all. And then the organising of the fruit and—” She waved her hand dismissively as she set the cake down. “Well, it’s all finished now.”
You set the plates down for everyone along with their respective knives and forks. “We hope you didn’t have to wait too long,” you told them apologetically.
Aside from how your initial impression as a couple spiked Virginia and Vision’s interest in wanting to sleep with both you and Wanda, the meal thus far must’ve paid off, for they really didn’t seem irritated at all after waiting for dessert.
And they did end up enjoying the cake too.
Except for Wanda, however, who seemed to be rather distracted with something else. You watched as she kept readjusting herself in her seat, her thighs squeezing together every so often and taking sips of her wine just to fidget with the handle of the glass.
You were rather eager to fuck your wife in the bedroom too after dinner, but before that, to see how much of your cum had leaked out of her.
By the looks of it, she had failed to hold much of it in.
In the midst of a particularly difficult time in your marriage, you catch your wife masturbating to you when she thinks you aren’t home.
Word count: 3516
Tags: smut, slight angst, fluff, marital issues, masturbation, fingering, breast play, praise, brief voyuerism, sub!wanda maximoff, dom!reader | MINORS DNI.
gif credit to luke-skywalker
Lately, it’s been your intention to waste any amount of time possible after getting off early from work in order to avoid coming home to Wanda, who you knew was home from school. She was a high school teacher, and yet always found the time to come home before dinner, always enough time to spend the rest of the day with you.
The time and devotion she put into being with you whenever she could was one of Wanda’s greatest traits. Like every person, she had her faults, but Wanda was almost… the perfect wife.
It wasn’t something to complain about, and you certainly couldn’t have ever fathomed it being a factor of any argument until a few weeks ago.
Perhaps it was a coincidental meshing of stressors that had caused it — Vision’s asking for Wanda’s permission to take the twins on a week’s vacation with his girlfriend, your concern with being liked by Tommy and Billy as much as they liked their father’s partner, your late nights at work, Wanda missing you when she had come home on time with the intention to be with you.
Such things were never urgent issues until they boiled up into an argument from both parties, bringing up concerns and worries that neither of you had ever even known were on the other’s mind.
Then it was the lack of communication that became frustrating, then it was the anger that was redirected to nothing in particular but the very nature of the hostile situation that only seemed to grow by the minute.
For close to an hour and a half, you and Wanda argued in the kitchen after Vision picked up the kids for the weekend, and finally ending it off with Wanda storming upstairs and abruptly choosing not to discuss anything any longer.
Finding that things were otherwise hostile and at the brink of exploding again, you chose to sleep in the guest room, which was where you’d been sleeping since the argument occurred weeks ago.
In the morning after, Wanda eyed you coming out of the guest room to head to work as she was packing her things for school. She seemed like she had opinions about where you’d decided to sleep that evening, but she kept quiet about it.
To make matters worse, you and Wanda talked very little for the next while. Along with not sleeping in the same bed, you hadn’t had sex let alone touched each other at all.
You had things to say of your own, opinions that had been formed since the argument, and apologies, most importantly. But you could never read in Wanda’s face whether she was still upset, so you were never sure of how to bring anything up or what to say if you were to say something to her.
One afternoon on a weekend nearly two weeks after the argument when neither you nor Wanda had work, you came back home with bags of groceries and set them down on the kitchen counter.
When you left that morning, you supposed Wanda was asleep in the bedroom upstairs as you hadn’t spoken to her before you left. There wasn’t any sign of her having come downstairs yet, so you imagined that perhaps she was still sleeping. Even so, the time without your wife had reached the brim of unbearability, and you knew you had to speak with her at some point.
It was immature to keep loved ones in that silent, passive aggressive limbo for days instead of simply speaking with them about things that were important. The tension at home and the strain on your relationship with her and the nights and days without her greatly outweighed whatever pride and comfort came from avoiding the inevitable conversation.
So you stalled for a little and put away the groceries before heading upstairs to talk with your wife.
You planned how you’d wake her up and if you’d be sitting on the bed beside her hip or if you’d be standing. You planned whether you’d shake her gently or just place a hand on her shoulder through the blankets.
You were in the midst of planning exactly what to say before your eyes caught onto a light casted onto the floor on top of the stairs from the guest room which you very clearly remembered closing before you left.
Then delicate muffled noises and the subtle sounds of rustling sheets travelled out of the room, and you stepped forward carefully.
Pushing the door open slightly and allowing more light to flood the hallway, you looked into the room and saw a mess of dark orange hair stretched out along the pillows of the guest room’s bed, along with a familiar figure mumbling out your name with a pillow held to her chest. Her knees were lifted up close to her stomach and your blankets were wrapped around her body messily.
Wanda was still in her pajamas, her hand tucked between her thighs and her body squirming as she pleasured herself to the scent of you on the bed you’d been sleeping on for the last little while, calling out your name with her lips pressed against the pillow.
Her thighs pressed together and her fingers tightened their grips around the pillow, her breathy moans turning into soft whimpers while her back began to arch and she started to near her orgasm.
Before she could finally reach her peak, you approached the bed and pulled the blanket down from her body, tearing her from whatever fantasy was playing in her mind. She quickly readjusted herself and removed her hands from her body as if she were on fire then turned onto her back to look up at you, her cheeks flushing a humiliated shade of pink.
She moved to sit up with shaky hands and she let go of your pillow.
“I…” She cleared her throat and looked away as she stuttered. “I didn’t… know you w-were home.”
You tipped your head to the side a little, surveying her embarrassed expression and attempts to look up at you to read what you might be thinking. It seemed that Wanda had just as much of a hard time these past few weeks trying to figure out what you might be feeling, and felt she may have crossed a severe line getting caught masturbating in your bed when perhaps she should’ve been keeping her distance.
Reaching down, you cupped your wife’s cheek and stroked your thumb against the corner of her lips softly. “You don’t have to stop because of me, honey,” you whispered. “Why don’t you catch me up on what I’ve missed?”
Wanda hesitated as she explored your expression and when you met her eyes, she saw for the first time in what felt like centuries what you might be feeling. Then she laid back down and you sat beside her shoulder, watching as she tucked her hand back under the waistband of her shorts and between her thighs. She moved herself to the side slightly and rested her head against your hip.
You placed a hand atop her head and rubbed your fingers against her scalp soothingly.
She pushed two fingers past her opening and whimpered, her hips raising slightly from the bed at the overwhelming intrusion before her fingers found a gentle pace. She buried her face into your hip although you could still see her way her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted as she moaned.
Your free hand reached down and began unbuttoning Wanda’s pajama top, slowly exposing her breasts and nipples that stiffened when the lapels of the blouse slipped down her chest and brushed against the blush-pink peaks.
Wanda’s head turned to watch the way you cupped one of her breasts gently and brushed your thumb across her sensitive nipple. Your wife always had rather sensitive breasts, and would thoroughly enjoy the time you took teasing at them, running delicate waves of pleasure through her body, showing her how well you knew how to treat her.
Her nipple was taken between your thumb and forefinger and you pinched at it, running the pressure up to its very tip and releasing before doing the same to the other.
Filled with gradually heightening arousal, Wanda’s fingers began speeding up and she experimented by brushing her thumb against the hood of her clit, eliciting a gentle jerk of her hips and the catching of her breath in her throat.
You leaned down and kissed Wanda’s neck, causing her to tip her head to the side and allow you more space to trail your kisses, bringing shivers up her arms at the feeling of your soft lips against her skin. Your tongue darted out and ran up to her jaw where you then pecked her cheek before moving back down to her breasts.
With two hands, you groped both your wife’s breasts and brought them together, allowing you to kiss up each of them. The pads of your thumbs rubbed against her nipples and you then wrapped your lips around one of them, looking up at meeting Wanda’s eyes to convey your purposeful intent behind each of her pleasured whimpers.
She struggled to maintain eye contact with you and you released her nipple to look down between her thighs. Even her fingers began to stagger as she began to quickly pick up from where she left off before you came into the room.
“I want you to…” Wanda whispered hesitantly and reached her hand behind your head, fingers playing with your hair as if to help you understand what she was saying. “Please.”
On any other day, you might’ve had her beg more explicitly, not sparing her any mercy in having her abandon her modesty as she pleaded for you to finger her pussy. But you wanted her as desperately as she wanted you; it’d been so long since you’d touched your wife like this and making her wait would only bring you torment.
And the sound of her wet cunt only made it harder to deny her request.
You needed to feel her.
A bit hastily, you pulled her shorts down along with her underwear and moved her hand out of the way. She was quick to oblige and wrapped her arms around your neck, but not before bringing her glistening fingers to your lips and allowing you to lick her flavour from them, which you did with unabashed enthusiasm.
The pads of three fingers circled against Wanda’s opening and you used your other hand to continue groping at Wanda’s breast and tugging at her nipple while you bit gently at her other. You teasingly rounded her stiffened nipple with your kisses, the tip of your nose brushing against it torturously.
She wasn’t far from orgasm, and you were much too desperate to see her come for you to prolong her release, so you swiftly entered three fingers into her which she accepted gratefully in the way she squeezed around you and tightened her arms around your neck.
“I’m so proud of you, Wanda, taking three fingers just like that,” you told her, taking one of her nipples between your teeth and tugging at it gently. She squirmed in response and made an attempt to reply verbally but found she could only whimper.
You kissed her nipple that was slightly sore from the teasing then ran your tongue up against it. You moved up her body and kissed her temple, your fingers quickly picking up speed as your desire to make your wife come overtook you.
You moved to lay beside her, cradling her head against your chest and kissing her forehead. “You’re such an obedient girl, baby,” you muttered against her skin. Your fingers ran through her soft hair and Wanda buried her face in your chest, seemingly happily soaking up your praise.
From the angle you were looking down at her from, you could see with full visibility her long soft legs and perfect breasts, the gentle slopes of her body and the delicate fluttering of her chest as her breath began to quicken and catch in her throat.
“You look so pretty,” you said, caressing her cheek as she tucked her head between your chest and your supportive arm that held her up comfortably. “My beautiful wife… I’m so lucky to be able to love you, Wanda.”
Wanda lifted her head from your chest and looked up at you, uttering out a soft, “I love you, Y/N.”
With a sincere gentle smile that made Wanda’s chest flutter with warm thrill, you leaned down and kissed her lips, and whispered out an ‘I love you too’ against them, sealing the beloved words within your act of affection.
Carefully, you curled your fingers inside Wanda and found the place of pleasure within her soft walls and she reburied her face in your chest and let out a muffled cry as you pressed down against it, your thumb beginning to rub circles against her clit.
“Why don’t you come for me, my sweet girl?” you encouraged into Wanda’s hair, kissing the top of her head and pulling your fingers in and out of her with long swift thrusts, each time brushing the tips of your fingers against her most sensitive point and your thumb never ceasing its circling against Wanda’s swollen clit.
“Show me how well-behaved you are and come on my fingers, honey,” you whispered.
You felt hints of Wanda attempting to nod before her body tensed and a prolonged ragged cry was pulled out of her. Her arms loosened from around your neck and she instead hugged you around the waist, pulling herself against you for support as she came. She cried out against your chest, calling out your name as she had been before, but this time unrestrained and thoroughly proud of getting off to you.
“That’s a good girl,” you said in a hushed tone when your wife’s cries settled into breathless pants, her grip around your waist loosening slightly though she was still hugging herself around you. “You did so good…”
Wanda muttered something into your chest and though you couldn’t hear it very well, you could see her flushed cheeks and the way she buried her face against you and that was enough to understand what she had meant.
You regarded her with a proud smile and slipped your fingers out of her soaking cunt then licked her from your fingers. Then you slipped down beside her so you were face-to-face with her and cupped her face with two hands before kissing her.
The kiss was every apology you felt you should’ve said days before today, every feeling of desperation for Wanda’s company previously hidden because of your cowardly grip on your pride and all the nights missing sleeping beside her. Then you pulled her into a hug, your arms securely wrapped around her shoulders as she continued to hug you back around the waist.
“Tommy and Billy love you so much,” Wanda uttered into your shoulder. “Even I sometimes feel they love their father more than me, but I know they love me just the same. I just think boys just get to an age where they seem more affixed to their fathers. They’ll swing back; you know they’re always thrilled to be home with us.”
“I feel terrible being so… possessive of them, and to feel so insecure about my parenting,” you finally confessed. You didn’t have to say any more for Wanda to understand that you were struggling with your place as the twins’ stepparent, and you had felt clumsy in your footing trying to figure out what your role was between two of their biological parents.
Wanda pulled away and met your eyes, pressing your foreheads together. In the sincerity of her gaze, you saw how much she appreciated the way you treated her sons. “I think it’s sweet,” she said. “They know how much you love them. I think you’re doing a perfect job as one of their parents. They adore you.”
Suddenly feeling guilty for how quick Wanda was to comfort you, you finally spoke up about what you’d been wanting to talk about for the last while.
Without putting too much thought into planning or overthinking it, you just said, “You take on so much in our marriage, Wanda. You’re so devoted and loving and sometimes I just… get self-absorbed. I just forget sometimes that you’re not the only one in our relationship. I’ll try harder. You deserve that and so much more. I’m so sorry for how I’ve been neglecting you and how difficult it was for me to just apologise for not treating you with the love you deserve.”
You didn’t think Wanda began to tear up because the discussion was upsetting, but simply because it’d just been so long since she last had any sort of affectionate contact with you, and hearing you talk to her about how much you loved her made her feel so full of emotion that it brought her to tears.
She really was a rather sensitive person.
You loved that about her.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for being so controlling and… otherwise possessive with you.”
“Baby, I’d be lost if you weren’t so possessive over me,” you laughed and kissed her forehead. Wanda laid her head on your chest and you moved onto your back so she could lay atop of you. “You’re not controlling. Don’t apologise for wanting what you deserve. I haven’t been giving that to you. I’m sorry.”
Holding herself up with her arms on your chest, Wanda raised her head and looked down at you. “How about if… there are days where you can’t come home before dinner, then I’ll come visit you?” she suggested.
You were filled with so much joy at her offer. She really did love you so much, trying her best to find ways to be with you even through the most difficult situations. Some days you felt you truly didn’t deserve her. But you’d prove to her that at the very least, you’d treat her as she deserved, that you’d show her how much you really did love her — and it was a whole lot.
“I’d really like that, Wanda,” you replied and kissed her lips. You turned around so Wanda slipped from your body and was on her back, looking up at you as you covered her face in soft kisses. “But I promise there won’t be as many days like that as there used to be.”
Wanda exhaled when you laid down beside her, pulling her against you so you were curled up against her body again. “But parenting and marriage can truly be taxing,” she confessed. “I hate arguing with you.”
“There is no one I’d rather argue about ex-husbands and work hours with than you though, honey,” you said lightheartedly before leaning down and kissing the tip of her nose, which made Wanda scrunch it up with a tiny grin.
“Especially when it ends with you making me come with your fingers,” she teased and smirked against your cheek.
“No,” you said with a definite shake of your head. “We can’t forget about that, can we?”
With a humoured grin, Wanda replied, “No — certainly not.”
You jested, “Mm. Maybe next time I’ll fuck you over the kitchen counter while you make lunch.”
Wanda hummed as if contemplating something. Then she asked, “Do you happen to be hungry for lunch right now?” She looked up at you and blinked innocently.
The implication made you smirk and you looked away to hide the way she made you flush with the simplest of words. “I do happen to be hungry for lunch,” you replied.
Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, Wanda raised herself up and straddled your hips so you couldn’t look away from her, taking your embarrassed state as an opportunity to tease you. “Would you like to come downstairs and… help me make lunch, Y/N?” she asked, leaning down to brush the tip of her nose against yours.
You cleared your throat and rubbed at your cheek to partially hide the grin on your lips. “I’d just have to go upstairs and get something before I go down and help.”
“Okay,” Wanda said in a sing-song voice then slipped off of your hips to stand beside the bed. She buttoned up her pajama blouse halfway so you could still see her tits when she leaned down and kissed your forehead. “I’ll see you down there, then.”
She left you with a teasing grin, leaving the bedroom in nothing but her top that only just barely covered her ass, her shorts and panties still discarded on the bed beside you.
You waited until Wanda was down in the kitchen so you could eagerly head upstairs to retrieve the strap without having your wife hear how quickly you went up to the bedroom.
Unbeknownst to you, she was waiting by the bottom of the staircase, giggling quietly to herself as she listened to how eager you were to be with her.
Summary: the princess gets everything she wants and more… AKA, Wanda may have bitten off more than she could chew, not realizing you were equally infatuated with her. But it all works in her favor :)
Words: 8.4k
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, top!reader, loss of virginity (w), explicit violence, murder, coming untouched, oral sex, fingering, semi-public sex, shower sex, overstimulation, mutual obsession, possessive behavior, strap-on, dacryphilia, exhibitionism, rough sex, exhaustion, consensual somnophilia, this is 90% porn, aftercare, (lmk if i missed any!)
AN: freak4freak type shi… Welcome to the final part! Ur comments have been so sweet & im glad ppl like this! I hope this ending is satisfying to y’all!!! I’ll try my best to post the other kinktober fics i missed this month 💔 glad I could at least post this. Btw I think this version of the song fits the vibe! Happy belated Halloween y’all. Enjoy! 🎃🧡
If it wasn’t clear enough, you’d completely folded your life into Wanda’s. The only time you weren’t together was at work, and even then you found excuses to bump into each other. You’d drop off papers to be shredded, she’d pick up your print job and deliver it right to your cubicle, then of course, your lunch break together.
The office hummed with its usual gossip. People watched you both like hawks and whispered into sleeves. You ignored them, focusing on your work and the girl you were head over heels for. Plus, the party of the year was coming up.
Halloween at the magazine was ridiculous in the best way. You’d gone as a magician. Top hat, tailcoat, the whole performative bit. Wanda was a Sokovian fortune teller, all jewel toned spandex and tights that clung to her in the most criminally flattering way. Erik had turned the cafeteria into an almost otherworldly party space. Purple LEDs, a buffet wall that made your head spin, live music, and a selection of European wines and vodkas that you couldn’t even pronounce. Talk about boosting employee morale.
At one point Wanda got up to fetch drinks, leaving you at a standing table with a plate of baked ziti. Two coworkers slid in beside you, leaning on the table with those tipsy, predatory grins.
“Hey! We’ve got a question for you,” Raven said, hiccup laughing, one hand already on your shoulder.
You raised a brow. “Okay...? Shoot.”
She dipped in close, her breath warm against your ear. “Is Erik paying you to hang out with his weirdo kid? I mean, come on… I’ve been here for years and she’s scared off everyone she’s ever looked at. She’s got those crazy eyes, ya know?”
Your jaw tightened. “First, she’s not a kid. She’s an adult. And second, no. I hang out with her because I like her. She’s been nothing but kind to me.” You let the last part hang, cold as ceramic.
Raven snorted. “Mm. I don’t buy it. I’d have dipped after getting the September feature. Or is she making her daddy buy you like a prized horse? Ooooh, does she make you fuck her every night too? I heard you even live together now so—”
“That’s enough.” You slapped her hand off in one motion. “Wanda’s the sweetest, most thoughtful person I know. She works hard. And I don’t appreciate how any of you treat her. She just wants to be included. Is that so fucking difficult? I’ve never used Wanda to get to Erik, but you’re making it really hard not to. Because I could make it my business to ensure that you and everyone else regret treating his family like this. Say one more nasty thing about her and I will happily see to it.”
For a heartbeat everything went quiet. The chatter, the music, the clinking of glass. Then you saw Wanda. She was standing at the end of the row, hands shaking, two plastic cups clutched so tight they crumpled. Tears welled in her eyes, and without even dropping a word she let the cups slip from her grip and ran.
Panic slammed through your chest. You glared at Raven and her tag along, then bolted through the crowd and out of the cafeteria, calling Wanda’s name as you barreled down the corridor. No answer.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You took the elevator up to the office floors, heart hammering, the party noise fading behind you as you searched. You found her trembling, breath rapid, bent over her desk with her back to you.
“Wanda, hey…” you said softly, closing the distance. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that shit. We don’t have to listen to those people. They don’t know us.”
You set a hand on her hip and gently turned her toward you.
She looked down for a second, fingers tightening on your tie like it was the only thing keeping her anchored. “Nobody’s ever defended me like that…” Her voice dissolved into a high, uncontrollable giggle. Tears happily streaked her cheeks, and beneath them a manic grin spread. Joy and hunger braided together. “You’re so fucking perfect. I’m so— oh my god…” she practically moaned.
“Wanda, baby… I’ll always defend you. You mean everything to me,” you breathed, cupping her cheek. Your heart hitched at the sight of her. Elated, needy, ravenous. And before you could think it through, you closed the space between you.
Her surprise cracked into urgency. She grabbed you, clawing at the back of your coat as if she’d never let go. The kiss was feral, her tongue demanding, searching, she bit your lip hard enough to make you taste blood.
You stumbled back, breathless and dazzled. “Fuck…” you panted, holding her to you like you were afraid she might vanish.
“All my hard work is finally paying off…” she murmured into your shoulder, so small you almost missed it.
When the air evened, the words you’d been chewing on spilled out, raw and unavoidable. “Wanda, I love you. I’m tired of pretending I don’t. I’ve been so scared of losing you. I still am. You’re everything to me, and I would never—” You swallowed. “I don’t care if it’s an HR nightmare or if your dad fires me. I just want you.”
Her eyes exploded with light, tears wet her lashes. “Oh my god, please. I love you so much. I’ve loved you since you gave me that handkerchief. Everything I am is yours. Take me. Please, Detka…”
You laughed, half crying, half cursing, stunned by the clarity of it all. You lifted her, legs wrapping around your waist, and set her on the edge of the desk. Your mouths collided again, hungry and desperate. Her thighs hooked at your hips, clothing creaked as you ground her hard against you.
She moaned deep when you gripped her hips, pulling her impossibly close as she rutted against your stomach. At first, you thought it was just desperation, her body begging for more friction, but then you felt her freeze for half a second, her lips parting in a silent gasp before they trembled against yours.
Her jaw dropped as the gasp turned into a ragged cry. Her nails scraped down your back, desperate for something to hold onto as her entire body jolted.
Her thighs clamped around you like a vice, trembling violently as the heat between you grew damper, hotter, overwhelming.
“Ah— oh god—” she choked, face twisted in helpless pleasure. You’d barely touched her, yet she was unraveling, her voice breaking into frantic, high-pitched whimpers. Her legs shook around your waist, spasms rippling through her body as if every nerve had been waiting for this exact second.
You froze, stunned, just holding her through it. All you could do was keep your arms locked around her, grounding her as her body shuddered again and again.
“That’s it, baby, I’ve got you,” you whispered, pressing kisses against her hairline even as your heart hammered from the sheer intensity of watching her fall apart.
Her moans ebbed into desperate little mewls, each softer than the last, until she finally sagged against you, boneless and trembling, her chest heaving.
Holy shit. She just came untouched.
“Wanda… did you just—” your voice cracked, disbelief dripping from every syllable.
Her face burned red as she buried herself into your neck, words muffled and broken. “I’m sorry… I-I didn’t mean to… I’m just so turned on… I couldn’t stop it…”
You tugged her hair gently, forcing her dazed eyes to meet yours. You leaned in close, smiling against her lips.
“That was so fucking hot… don’t you dare apologize for that.”
You kissed her, softer this time, though your hands betrayed the tenderness, roaming, groping, squeezing her body until she whined into your mouth. Each desperate little sound spurred you on.
Your lips trailed lower, down the column of her throat, sucking bruises into her skin, claiming her inch by inch. When your hand slid between her thighs and tugged the crotch of her bodysuit aside, you growled in frustration at the leggings still blocking you.
The sharp rip echoed in the air as you tore through them. Wanda gasped, arching against you when your fingers finally slipped through, gliding against her slick folds.
You both moaned at the contact.
“Fuck, baby…” your voice broke with awe. “Is this all for me? You’re dripping…”
Her mouth hung open, panting, eyes glassy with need. You tugged her costume lower until her breasts spilled free, flushed and perfect, and latched onto one aching nipple. You sucked greedily, tonguing her like you were trying to drink her down, while her fingers tangled in your hair, dragging you closer.
“Yes— ahh, yes baby, it’s all for you,” she cried, writhing against your hand. “My pussy is yours, please—”
But then you pulled your fingers away. She whined at the loss, only to watch your lips wrap around them. You moaned shamelessly at the taste, eyes fluttering shut as your tongue savored her slick.
“Fuck,” you groaned, nearly shaking from restraint. “Fuck, you taste so good. I need to eat your pussy right now.”
She didn’t even have time to reply before you dropped to your knees, dragging her toward the edge of the desk. Your teeth grazed her inner thigh, nipping and tearing at what fabric remained, shredding it away until nothing kept you from her.
You didn’t even bother teasing, your hunger was too sharp. She squealed when you buried your mouth against her soaked cunt, the high sound breaking off into a sob as your tongue dragged through her folds. You groaned into her, shameless and guttural, like the taste of her was something you’d craved your whole life.
Her hips twitched helplessly under your grip, thighs trembling against your ears. Wanda’s nimble fingers tangled in your hair, clutching tight like you were her anchor in a storm. Her head tipped back, a strangled moan escaping that made your spine buzz.
The office floor was silent but for you two, amplifying every obscene sound. Your mouth worked greedily, tongue sliding and lips sucking, the wet noises bouncing off the walls like a filthy soundtrack to her unraveling.
And then her voice, breaking and desperate, spilling over the slick chorus.
“Fuck— fuck, baby— oh my god, you’re so fucking good—” she panted, the words cracked by gasps and mewls. “Oh, this is better than I’ve ever dreamed— fuck, I’m not gonna last—”
You shoved deeper, tongue thrusting inside her, nose rubbing tight circles over her clit. She yelped, a sharp, needy cry that turned into a broken whimper. Her thighs clamped around your head, body jolting as her stomach tightened and then—
It hit her all at once. Her release tore through her, a loud cry ripping from her chest as she squirted hard against your mouth. The wet gush splattered across your face, your chin, dripping down onto the desk. You groaned in delight, sucking and swallowing what you could, the sound of it wet and messy as hell. You eased her down with gentle kitten licks, savoring the aftershocks as her moans tapered into small, shaky cries.
Wanda whimpered again, then yanked you up by the hair, crashing your lips together in a needy kiss. You let her devour your mouth, all tongue and desperation, while your hand slid between her legs.
Your fingers slipped inside with ease, the lewd squelch loud in the quiet office as you pumped slowly, deliberately, mapping every velvet curve of her pussy while her whines and gasps vibrated against your lips.
But the heated moment ended when you heard hollering and whistling behind you.
You jumped apart, looking over your shoulder to see your coworkers, Josh and Aiden. The floor was supposed to be empty, everyone else was still at the party three levels down, but somehow, these two had wandered up here drunk.
“Shit…” you muttered, ripping off your coat to wrap around Wanda’s exposed body.
“Ooooh, don’t stop on our account!” Josh slurred, stumbling closer with Aiden snickering behind him. They reeked of alcohol, voices too loud in the otherwise silent office.
“I have to say… everyone suspected you were giving special favors at work,” Aiden sneered, eyeing Wanda up and down. “Glad to know it’s confirmed.”
You stepped in front of her protectively. “It’s not like that. Now if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to leave.”
They laughed, shoving you aside. You fell, your head smacking against the table leg, vision blurring as Wanda gasped behind you.
“Don’t be selfish,” Josh cackled, leering at Wanda.
“Yeah, I’ve been dying for a raise,” Aiden hummed, leaning in too close.
The sharp crack of Wanda’s hand split the room as she slapped him hard enough to stagger him back into his friend. “Don’t come near me, pervert,” she spat, her accent slipping through.
Your vision sharpened instantly at the sight of them cornering her.
“You fucking slut,” Aiden hissed, clutching his cheek. “You can’t just pick and choose favorites—”
Something inside you snapped. You didn’t remember grabbing them, but suddenly a pair of scissors was in your hand. And before you could even think, you lunged, driving them into Aiden’s back.
Wanda’s jaw dropped, but then she smiled. Wide and dreamy. “Holy shit…” she breathed like it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
Josh’s face drained of color. “Holy shit…” he echoed, stumbling backward.
You stood over Aiden, chest heaving, blood soaking your hands. But you didn’t stop there. You straddled him, plunging the scissors again and again until his body went limp and the carpet was ruined beneath you.
Behind you, Wanda’s voice broke through, trembling but breathless, “Yes… yes, don’t stop… oh my god…”
Each wet, meaty thud seemed to pull a gasp from her. You could hear her panting softly, like she couldn’t catch her breath, like this was making her dizzy in the best way.
Then your gaze snapped up to Josh. His horror sobered him instantly. He scrambled backward, trying to crawl away, babbling pleas you didn’t even register.
You dropped the scissors with a clatter, picking up the nearest heavy object, a three ring hole puncher. With a low growl, you advanced.
You swung. The sharp crack echoed through the empty office, followed by another, and another. Grunting between each swing as you bashed his skull into oblivion.
“Yes… fuck yes…” Wanda’s words trembled in time with the impacts.
When you finally stopped, both men were still. The office was quiet again, eerily so, as if the building itself hadn’t noticed what just happened.
You shuddered, turning to Wanda as you dropped the hole puncher with a heavy clank. The sound echoed through the empty floor, final and heavy. Blood stained your once-white shirt, spattered across your hands and face.
“I… I don’t know what came over me, Wanda. I just— fuck… what just happened… what did I do…” Your voice cracked, ragged with adrenaline.
Wanda scrambled toward you, her grin wide, almost feral. “You killed them for me…” she breathed, like it was the most intoxicating gift she’d ever received.
You reached for the tissues, pulling one after another, trying to scrub the red away. Each sheet came back soaked, useless, dropping in a bloody pile at your feet.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry you had to see that. I’ve never—” you shook your head, trembling, “I was just so angry… I finally have you, and I— I didn’t want them touching what’s mine… please— please don’t leave me I don’t— I won’t hurt you—”
Her hands shot up to your face, fingers curling in your blood-matted hair as she made you look at her. Her eyes sparkled, dark and hungry, like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. “I never thought I could love you more…” she panted, lips parting, a bitten off moan caught in her throat before she crashed her mouth against yours.
You groaned, kissing her back desperately, smearing blood between you. “I fucking love you… so fucking much… I never wanna love anyone else… only you…” you rasped between breaths, frantic, like you needed her tether just to keep from unraveling. Then you pulled away, panic washing over you again.
“I… we need to go… we need to do something about—”
“Daddy will take care of the mess,” she cut you off, her tone low but sure, almost soothing. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
The next moments passed in a strange, muffled quiet. Wanda made the call first, her voice steady, efficient, while you just stood there staring at your bloodstained hands. You didn’t even question it when her father began arranging a cleanup crew without the faintest hint of surprise.
Then she moved to you. She peeled off your ruined shirt with steady fingers, her touch soft. The sting of chemical wipes pressed against your skin as she scrubbed away the blood. Methodical, precise, like she’d done this before. From her desk, she pulled a spare set of clothes for the both of you, folded and ready. Maybe she’d stashed them away for coffee spills, maybe for ink stains. Certainly not for this.
You let her handle everything, silent and pliant. Wanda was composed, focused, while your mind buzzed in static. You couldn’t fathom how she was this poised, this calm, right now. Your guardian angel. She should add it to her resume: flawless crisis management.
The cleanup wasn’t perfect. The stickiness still clung to your skin. Your hair reeked faintly of iron. You needed a shower, you needed to think. Wanda cradled your face, gently patting away the last of the blood. When she was finished, she leaned in, kissed you soft and sure, as if the world (and Josh’s skull) hadn’t just cracked open.
“It’s okay,” she whispered against your lips, her thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek. Your shoulders eased in an instant. Electricity flowing through you that was just buzzing her name. Wanda Wanda Wanda.
She smiled at you. And you smiled back. Because you trusted her. And if Wanda said it was okay, then it was.
Your fingers interlaced, her hand tugging you along, pulling you out into the cool night.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Instead of walking, Wanda had arranged for one of her father’s drivers to bring you home. The ride was silent, save for the hum of the engine. But in the backseat, silence didn’t exist the moment she straddled you. Filling the quiet with each other, every breath, every frantic press of lips, every desperate clutch.
You couldn’t stop. Neither of you could. Every time you pulled back, gasping for air, her hands dragged you close again. And when she paused, you chased her mouth like you’d die if you didn’t have it. It wasn’t lust, it was need. A fever running under your skin.
There was no groping, no fumbling for more. Just your hands cupping her face like you could mold her into your palms, and her arms locked around you so tight it was like she wanted to fuse your bodies together. You kissed her again and again until your lips stung, until your jaw ached, and still it wasn’t enough.
It didn’t feel like kissing anymore. It felt like praying. Worshipping. Proving to yourselves, over and over, that the other was real, still there, still yours.
Neither of you spoke. There was nothing left to say. The silence between you was louder than words. A vow, a pact, an obsession so consuming that it bordered on holy.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Once you arrived at the building, things only escalated on your account. Wanda fumbled with the elevator key, letting out a surprised chuckle as you hugged her from behind, leaning down to press hot kisses to her neck. Sucking, licking, biting. Each touch like you poured vodka on her flaming heart.
You couldn’t keep your hands off her in the lift either, hoisting her into your arms, pressing her back against the cool mirror, grinding your hips between her legs.
“You’re so fucking pretty…” you muttered hungrily against her neck, “I’ll never let anyone lay a damn finger on you, angel.”
Wanda’s head fell back with a thud. Utterly overwhelmed by the attention you were giving her. God… she knew she needed you. And knew that she wanted you to need her back. But this? Absolutely nothing could’ve prepared her. And she wouldn’t want it any other way.
You cupped her sex with deliberate pressure, coaxing a pathetic whine from her throat. “D-detka— fuck… I— we should get inside first… at least—“
The elevator dinged open, cutting off her rugged speech. You wasted no time. She yelped as you whisked her off her feet, rushing inside, hastily setting her on the kitchen counter.
Practically ripping her clothes off, your mouth traveled down her torso, lips sucking lightly on her tits, tongue teasing her hard nipples as you switched back and forth. She whimpered at the tingling sensation, groaning louder when your hand slipped under her panties, digits sliding gently between her wet folds.
“Shit… fuck— baby, that feels so good… oh my god— y-you’re so perfect,” she breathed, mind hazy as she clutched your hair, tugging you closer to her chest. You played with her a moment longer before pulling away, causing her to let out a needy little whine.
You chuckled, leaning up to kiss that adorable pout away before pushing her back on the cold marble, climbing up to place your head between her legs. “Trust me sweet girl, you’ll enjoy this a lot more…” you hummed, kissing her thighs.
You dove in, tongue working hungrily against her clit, damn near growling at the taste as your nails dug into her thighs. Wanda writhed beneath you, gripping your head, attempting to attach your mouth to her pussy entirely. Only your wet slurps and her cries echoed in the kitchen…
Until the buzz of her phone cut through the heat.
She gasped, attempting to shove your head away, but your hold stayed strong as you continued feasting on her pussy like it was your last meal.
“F-fuck— detka— ah—! Oh my god— it’s my dad— shit— I sh-should answer,” she staggered between moans, chuckling breathlessly at your eagerness.
You reluctantly pulled back, licking her juices from your lips. “Answer it, baby… don’t worry about me.”
She rolled her eyes playfully, catching her breath before she picked up the phone.
“Papa! Hey, we got back a bit ago, just freshening up for the night after… everything,” she spoke casually, softly running her fingers through your hair.
They eventually switched to Sokovian. Seemingly, Erik was just updating her on the clean up crew situation while she explained in detail about how everything went down.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, you leaned back down, slowly dragging your tongue along her pussy. She shuddered, biting her lip as she tried to remain composed. But she didn’t push you away…
Instead, she laid back, draping her legs over your shoulder to pull you closer by her heel. Humming blissfully and grinding on your face as she barely paid attention to the conversation.
“Mhmm… yea she’s so good to me. So sweet,” she sighed dreamily, biting back a moan. Your heart fluttered at the praise, urging you to pick up the pace.
Her grip tightened, trying her absolute best to seem unfazed, but her body told an entirely different story. Her jaw slack, head tipped back. Squirming, arching into your electric touch, sending shivers up her spine. Voice shaking with every word while her eyes squeezed shut.
“Mhmm! I— um— yeah, she’s in the other room! Let me grab her real quick,” she stammered, immediately muting her phone and slamming it down on the counter.
“Fuck— oh, fuck baby I’m gonna come— p-please don’t stop— y-yes! Oh fuck yes!” She cried out, thighs trembling around your head. Rolling her hips against your tongue with no rhythm. Pleasure shooting through every vein in her system.
You groaned against her, directing vibrations throughout her body until she couldn’t take it anymore, eventually pulling you up, capturing your tongue in a deep, hungry kiss.
“Shit… fuck— my dad wants to talk to you. Is that okay?” Her breaths ragged against your lips.
Your lips found hers softly, just a peck. Then you grinned. “Of course, angel. As long as you can keep quiet.”
She tilted her head, unable to question anything before you took the phone off mute, putting it on speaker instead.
“Hello, Mr. Lensherr! Wanda said you wanted to speak with me?” you said in your most professional corporate voice. But your hands roamed unprofessionally…
You hovered over Wanda’s body, covering her mouth, while your other hand slid between her legs, fingers teasing at her entrance.
“You can call me Erik now… Wanda told me what happened. How you defended her. Took a life for her.” He shared, tone hard to read.
Your breath hitched, processing the words as your fingers pressed inside her. Two to start.
“I did, yes. I’ve never… done that before. But I’d do anything for your daughter, Sir. I would never hurt her. Only those who stand against her.” You picked your words carefully, picking up the pace along with them. You stayed calm, fingers thrusting, curling expertly inside her, pressing right up against that sweet spot that drives her crazy.
Wanda’s eyes were blown. Full of love, lust, adoration, and need. Ears perked on your every word. She could come just from the way you talked about her.
“I’m not calling to scold you. I’d like to say that I’m proud of you… for having the guts to do what’s necessary. I’m happy that she has you. Happy that she loves you,” a beat passed, his voice dropping low. “Are you in love with my daughter?”
Why the fuck kind of question is that? Of fucking course...
You stared down, directly into her sparkling green eyes. Those sweet, pleading, princess eyes. Wrist beginning to ache, but you persevered. Your gazes remained locked as you spoke your next words.
“Your daughter means everything to me. I wanted to wait… to make sure she knows I’m here for her, not the rewards. But I couldn’t resist her long enough. In the time I’ve known her, I’ve fallen so hard I can’t bear a life without her” you confessed. “So, yes. I’m in love with her. More than anyone or anything that’s ever been in my life.”
Erik paused, taking in your words. Meanwhile, Wanda reached up, clawing at your back and pulling you close, her whimpers muffled by your hand. Needy girl. You insert a third finger.
“Very well. It’s good to know that she’s finally met her match. You will take care of her,” he ordered simply.
You grinned, watching Wanda’s wrecked state. “Of course, Erik. I’ll make sure she never goes a second without feeling 100% of my adoration.”
He hummed approvingly, then finally ended the call.
You wasted no time freeing her moans and crashing your lips into hers. She returned the motion with equal desperation. Shamelessly crying into your mouth as her hips moved in tandem with your thrusts. Every curl of your fingers igniting a flame within her lower stomach.
“Yes—! Fuck, baby— you’re so fucking good with your hands, I— fuck… I fucking love you so much. Mine— You’re mine,” she whimpered, writhing beneath you as your thumb circled her clit.
Your other hand cupped her pretty face, and you smiled watching her melt into your touch. “I’m yours forever. Come for me, baby. I’ve got you.”
Wanda nodded shakily, unable to form words just yet. One last press against that sweet spot undid her entirely. She clung to you as pleasure jolted through her body, her moans sweet on your ears like they could be mistaken for a hymn.
You held her through it, kissing her neck, shoulder, cheek. Whispering praise as she came for the third (or fourth?) time of the night. And you were nowhere near done with her. When she finally came down, you helped her sit up, rubbing her back and kissing her softly while she recovered. Cradling her jaw, your tongue slid against hers, tilting your head as you practically devoured one another.
“Mm… you’re so good at… everything… my god…” Wanda mumbled against your lips, her hand pressed against your chest to halt your movements. “We have to shower soon, there’s still blood in your hair.”
You whined, agreeing anyway. Then allowed her to lead you to the bathroom.
Clothes came off in a blur (mainly yours, since she was mostly naked). Her soft hands drifted in easy motions. Washing your body with an almost maternal touch. God, she’d be a great mother.
And while she let the shampoo bubble in your hair, she scrubbed thoroughly, nails dragging along your scalp in a soothing motion. She looked up at you as if you were her most precious gift. More sacred than anything money could buy.
Once the last bit was rinsed from your hair, it was her turn. She insisted that you didn’t have to, but you needed to. Every bone in your body urged you to take care of her. And she didn’t know how to handle it.
She’s always been used to doing everything for the people she loved. Always used to cooking, cleaning, running errands, working for affection, only to be shut out. Loving so hard, unrequited, driving her to the point where she’d eventually need to remove them from the equation when they wouldn’t give her what she needed.
She leaned into your hold, shuddering at every graze of your hands over her body. And when you groped her ass, pulling her close for a rough, depraved kiss, she whimpered pathetically. You smirked against her mouth.
“Can you handle more tonight, angel?” you whispered, bringing your hand around to her front, fingers ghosting over her clit once again. Your other hand came up, gripping her throat, not tight yet.
If it weren’t for the sound of water trickling on your bodies, she could almost hear her heart hammering in her chest. Pliant in your arms, she looked up at you, nodding and batting her pretty eyelashes in that way that makes you fall harder everyday.
“Mhmm. I’ll take everything you give me. I’m yours… more than you’ll ever know. God— you can fuck me till I pass out and still keep using me, I— I just wanna be yours…” she babbled breathlessly, surrender laced between each word.
You chuckled, watching her fall apart in your possessive grasp. “You’re my only girl. You’ll never have to worry about other women. And I…” you grumbled against her mouth, shoving three fingers inside her, beginning a brutal pace as your grip tightened on her throat, “...am never gonna worry about anyone either. I’ll fucking kill anyone who thinks they can take you from me… you’re my angel… nobody else’s.”
Her eyes rolled back into her head, clinging onto you, legs unyielding around your waist as you held her up. Her cries bounced off the cold, wet tiles. Every whine, moan, gasp, and groan amplified by the acoustics of the bathroom. You ambushed her neck, recklessly marking the soft skin.
“Yes— oh god, that’s so good— fuck— I’d kill for you too— I have—! I’ve killed so many for you—! And god, I’d do it again… I’d do anything… Everything I am is just for you—!” she sobbed, utterly wrecked by your fingers, only half conscious of what she’d just confessed.
Your breath hitched… Something inside you turned. Something between fear, arousal, and curiosity. Tilting your head, you grabbed her chin, forcing her to hold eye contact with you. “Yeah? Who… tell me everything, baby… I’ll still love you. Promise.”
She bit her lip, teary eyed as she shook her head no. So you scoffed, slowing your pace which caused her to whine in protest. “Wait— no, no, I—”
“Names. Tell me or I’ll stop,” you hummed, voice turning low and firm. “Don’t cry, baby… Even if you’re pretty like that… not like this.”
“I— fuck— the first was Illyana… I followed you… I broke in… I couldn’t—” she gasped when your momentum quickened. “Shit— I took out Ikarus, Kingo, Thena— everyone who spoke badly of you— your landlord… I wanted you with me— I needed you to be here— all the time…”
She kept going.
A waitress who was apparently making fuck me eyes at you.
Some girl from accounting who liked your Instagram post.
The man who pickpocketed you on the subway.
Your ex who wouldn’t stop texting you (now you know why she stopped).
By the end, the shower was cold, but your bodies still hot. Her legs trembled around you, not allowing her to come until she told you everything. The ways she took them out.
How she caught Illyana on her morning run, but still went back to save her cats from having no owner (because she’s sweet like that).
How Ikarus cried in terror as she poured the gasoline.
How Kingo was the one walking around drunk at night, so it was only a matter of time.
How Thena was just too busy staring at her phone at the intersection, all she needed was a little push.
And your least favorite… how your landlord fought back when he found her destroying the pipes. She wasn’t planning on killing him… just wanted to cause some irreversible water damage to ensure you needed to leave that godawful apartment.
But he grabbed the axe, overpowered her.
She told you how she had to do it because she needed to come home to you. And all you could think of? Your poor girl must’ve been so scared…
And when you finally said one word. Come. Her swollen cunt gushed like a broken dam. Body going limp in your arms from the edging, overstimulation, and the weight of everything lifted off her shoulders.
Her slim figure clung to you like an anxious koala, nails grounded on your back, head buried in your neck, and twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm. You turned the shower off, hands soothing her body as you stepped out.
You placed her on the counter, drying both of you off. She stayed quiet, looking down when you dried and brushed her hair. When you were done, you set down the brush.
“There. Pretty girl’s all cleaned up,” you smiled, kissing the corner of her mouth.
But she only pouted, biting the inside of her cheek. Your brows furrowed, as you cupped her face, tipping her head up. “Hey… What’s wrong sweetheart?” You spoke softly.
She hesitated, biting her lip, “You’re not mad at me?”
You tilted your head, genuinely shocked that she would ever think so. I mean, yeah, all the killing was a bit much. But how could you be upset with her when it all led to this?
She wasn’t manipulating the situation, just… shaping your realities. And you couldn’t blame her for that. She grew up spoiled, so of course, she can’t help but get what she wants…
She’s still your sweet girl. Nothing’s changed, just… some extra information coming to light.
You chuckled, kissing that pout away from her soft lips, “I could never be upset with you, angel. Wouldn’t be fair if I was, considering how tonight went, right?”
Her eyes shined, holding all the love in the world as a heartfelt grin spread across her face, she slung her arms over your shoulders, pulling you close and brushing her nose against yours. “God… you’re even more perfect than I could ever imagine… I’m so fucking lucky.” she practically moaned.
A chaste kiss was shared between your lips before you sighed dreamily. “I’m the lucky one here… I just wish I knew where my strap was so I could use it on you… think I lost it in the move…”
Wanda opened her mouth, snapping it shut just as quickly, looking down shyly… You eyed her, knowing something was on her mind. “What’s wrong now, angel?”
A coy smile crept up her face, cheeks blushing. “I might’ve been using it… well— kind of? I, um— I found it while we moved you in and…” her throat dried at the memory.
“The night you had that dumb hour long seminar on Zoom, I— I tried to use it, but it was just too big… I don’t think I can fit it in without your help so… I could only grind on it, pretending it was you, and— god, it was so good… I was trying to be quiet, then I squirted so hard on the bed... I had to change the sheets before you came back…” she confessed innocently, as if she just told you she secretly stole the last cookie in the jar.
“You, seriously…” you weren’t angry, but your eye twitched, mouth watering at the vision of her squirting on your cock without you. Heart hammering as you spoke, “Fucking hell, baby… I could’ve fucking helped you… Jesus, I was just… sitting in the other room while you—” you took a deep breath. “Show me where it is. I need to fuck you properly.”
She nodded eagerly, heat pooling in her belly from your commanding tone. You followed right behind as she scrambled to the bedroom, digging through her side drawer and pulling out the strap and harness. She sat patiently on the bed while you tugged it on, buckling in easily. Her mouth hung open, damn near drooling as she looked up at the long, thick toy with hooded eyes.
Instead of pinning her to the bed, pushing her legs back, and fucking her in missionary like you’d imagined a million times, you urged her up, “Come here.” you grumbled, voice sharp.
You held her wrists behind her back, walking her across the room as she giggled like a damn brat, “Detka what are we— agh—!” She yelped, feeling her tits press against the cool window, the city lighting up the night sky.
“You’re my perfect girl, you know that?” you gritted, moving her hair aside, mouth assaulting her sensitive neck. “Perfect girls should be shown off to the world… For everyone to see… Not to touch…”
She shuddered when you slid the toy between her folds, her hips grinding back into you like second nature. You tugged her hair, whispering in her ear, “I wanna show everyone what’s mine… that okay, angel? You want the whole city to see you get fucked stupid on my cock? The only cock you’ll ever have…”
“Yes! Please—! Please fuck me stupid with your cock— I need everyone to know who I belong to… I need you!” she begged, tears welling in her eyes from utter need.
“This’ll only hurt for a bit, okay? You’ll adjust… I’ll hold you through everything, my love,” you muttered, lips trailing the back of her neck, fingers ghosting over the smooth skin of her stomach. She gave you one last reassuring nod, spurring you on to continue.
You lined the strap with her entrance, steadily pushing in. Oh… she was right… it would definitely be a tight fit…
She winced when you were hardly an inch in, “Shh, it’s okay baby… I’ve got you… We’ll get there… I’ll go slow for you, angel…” you cooed, kissing her temple.
She whined, a sound of pleasure and obedience, the faint reflection of her eyes in the window screaming for more. So you gave her exactly that. Deeper and deeper. Soothing her with belly rubs, kisses, words of praise.
“Atta girl…”
“You can take it…”
“My sweet angel… it’s okay…”
And once you were buried to the hilt, you weren’t so gentle. But it started that way! Your smooth thrusts, pressing her closer to the glass, telling her how good she was being for you, trying to help her adjust.
But it changed when she rutted her hips back against you, whining, “Fuck me harder! I need it— I need you to ruin me.” She squirmed, quite literally crying for more.
You were taken aback. Not offended, just surprised. She never acted like this with you. Needy and clingy were nothing new, and you knew she was spoiled too, but a spoiled brat in the bedroom? Oh, this is gonna be fun…
A hand crept up, wrapping around her neck, while the other made home on her waist, nails digging crescents into her skin. “Yeah?” you huffed playfully. “Let’s see if you can take it like you promised…”
The snap of your hips turned her head to static. She almost swore her ears were ringing when you began pounding relentlessly. A choppy rhythm. Slick ran down her thighs, wet slaps and broken cries echoing off the walls.
“F-fuck… it’s so fucking big, oh my god— you’re gonna break me in half—!” tears slipped from her eyes, overwhelmed from pain and pleasure, like a fallen angel for the world to observe. Anyone with a good enough lens could witness this moment.
“Aw, you’re crying now? Shit, you look so pretty like that… I thought you could take it…” you teased, grip tightening on her throat. “You like being my pretty fuck toy, right? Is that why you killed Illyana? Couldn’t handle sharing my cock with anyone else, huh?”
Her breath fogged the glass, huffing out in needy little gasps. “Yes— Yes, I love being your toy— I— I never wanna share you… ever— I’ll take everything, I—” a strangled moan interrupted her as you pressed her lower belly, exactly where you felt the strap prodding at her insides. “I’ll get rid of anyone who thinks they can play with you— mine— ah—!”
Your pace turned punishing. You could practically feel her holding back. It became increasingly difficult to hammer her tight little cunt with the way she clenched around you. She writhed uncontrollably, an absolute mess of throaty groans and jagged breaths, ready to crumble at any second.
Her face was flushed, red, teary. “D-detka I— I’m gonna— I’m gonna come— Please, let me come— I— I need to come right now,” she sobbed, choking on every syllable in time with each thrust.
“Oh, you can come whenever you want, baby…” you purred, a devious grin manifesting itself on your face. “No need for my permission for the rest of the night, okay?”
“Mhmm— y-yes— I— FUCK—!” she mewled, her juices gushed out once more, sploshing across the glass. Oh, the poor maids…
Convulsing in your hold, she couldn’t come down. Her orgasm wouldn’t wash over her… it consumed her entirely. You were in awe, absolutely in love with her, and the way her body reacted to you.
Reaching around, your fingers found her clit. That sweet little button to send her off the rails. She shrieked at the contact, squirming in your grasp while you thrusted with the same brutal force. The dual sensations overloading her mind.
“B-baby wait, it’s too much, I— I can’t—” she croaked, weakly pushing at your wrist. She squirted endlessly, and you intended to milk her dry.
You hesitated briefly, but she did tell you to use her as much as you wanted. So you tilted your head. “Hm… You sure, sweetheart? Say stop, and I will.”
The ball was left in her court. A beat passed. Nothing was said.
Chuckling, you kissed her neck, keeping up the same motions. “You really don’t wanna stop, huh? Yeah, I knew you were gonna be my good girl… My perfect girl… Just keep letting me use your pretty pussy till you can’t take it…”
She nodded, letting out a small “mhmm,” paired with a precious smile. Wanda fell loose in your arms, sweet dreamy whines and sloppy, wet sounds hummed through the air.
You don’t know how much time passed, but at some point, the cries stopped. The trembling stopped. The juices stopped. Her body went slack, nearly collapsing to the ground.
Concerned, you pulled out, holding her up as you cupped her cheek. “Wanda? Baby? You okay?”
Her entire body was overworked, but her arms weakly wrapped around you. “Wh— why stopped…?” she mumbled, hardly coherent.
Fuck… You’d nearly forgotten that she was a virgin before tonight… And you’d just fucked her for what was probably over three hours…
You scooped her up bridal style, smiling at her tranquil, ragdoll figure. Laying her gently on the bed, you kneeled over her, thumb brushing her arm, “Hey, sweet girl… I’m gonna get you some water, yeah?”
Her eyes were shut, peaceful. She made no noise, just her chest rising and falling with little breaths. You weren’t entirely sure if she was awake anymore. So you just chuckled, kissing her cheek and retiring the strap for tonight before you padded to the kitchen.
You came back minutes later with two water bottles, gatorade, and a bag of her favorite chips. “Sweetheart? You awake?” you stroked her cheek, attempting to rouse her.
“Mhmm…” she nodded. You bit your lip, holding back a small laugh. You didn’t really believe her. Setting the snack and drinks aside, you sighed and pulled her in close for cuddles, unsure of what to do next. You really wanted her to have something in her system, but couldn’t exactly force feed her unconscious body. And you didn’t have the heart to wake her.
But one thing bugged the back of your mind… the mess left between her legs.
Biting your lip, her words from earlier rattled in your brain, an indulgent echo.
you can fuck me till I pass out and still keep using me
Weighing the scales in your head, it wouldn’t hurt to clean her up… and you absolutely did not want her juices to go to waste.
You deliberately rolled her onto her back. Staring in awe at the body of a woman who finally belonged to you. Your mouth claimed a trail starting at her neck. Not bothering to focus too heavily since you’d already marked that to hell. Little purple bruises scattered like constellations.
The next stop was her perfect breasts. You’d been drawn to them since you met. The way her blouse would hug her tits, sometimes you swore those buttons would burst in the middle of the day… and when she started wearing corset tops at works? Bralettes around the house? God, you were in trouble.
She hummed sleepily when you took them into your mouth. Sucking intentional specks into that smooth, milky skin you know and love. May no other soul ever get the chance to know or love them. You forced yourself to pull away, reminding your mouth that this is a cleanup job, don’t get carried away (not that she’d mind all that much, if at all).
A simple path carved down her stomach, like footprints in the snow, finally leading to the scene at her legs. Slickness clung to her thighs, her pussy swollen and red from the beating it took. You frowned slightly, but secretly almost felt proud of how much you could do, and how much she could take.
Your tongue dragged on her inner thighs clearing the mess you caused. The taste still fresh, but cooler on your tastebuds. Lapping delicately till sticky skin turned soft. Once satisfied with the result, you scooted up, thumb massaging the sensitive flesh between her legs. She stirred, causing you to look up. Still not awake.
Lowering your head, your tongue moved with languid strokes. Slow and indulgent. Her warm cunt twitched beneath you. You shuddered, refraining from devouring her completely. But that didn’t stop you from sinking deeper, burying your face in her wet heat. You’re just being thorough.
With every swipe, stroke, and lick, you grew hungrier. Shakey breaths, nimble fingers holding her legs open.
Before you realized, Wanda sighed, letting out a yawn that dissolved into a moan.
She blinked down at you, hands lazily tangling in your hair. “Hm? Am I dreaming?”
You chuckled, looking up and wiping her juices from your chin. “Cleaning up the mess we made. Just lay back, angel. I’ll give you a bath after this…” you explained softly, caressing her thigh before continuing the motions.
Her breath hitched, jaw hanging open as her head tilted back in absolute bliss.
She drew you in closer, grasping at the strands of your hair, hips gyrating in an unhurried fashion. “Mmm… you’re fucking perfect… fuck— I wish we could do this forever…”
You hummed in agreement, mouth working slow and greedy. Her body was still buzzing from everything today. She was aching, pulsing, and dizzy… but she couldn’t help wanting just one more moment of pure ecstasy.
It didn’t take long to get there. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t explosive. But it was everything.
One last breathy cry as she arched into your mouth. Little tremors, light quivers. Satisfaction.
Satisfaction over finally getting her win. Satisfaction over feeling your pure, undying love.
Everything.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Wanda couldn’t tell what happened between the bed and the bathtub. Only processing the fact that she was sitting between your legs, back pressed against your front.
She protested when her mind came back clearly, insisting that she could take more rounds. But you promised her that’s an adventure for another night. Right now, you just needed her.
You held her close. Tying her hair up in a bun to avoid getting it wet. The water warm and still. You fed her snacks and cradled her jaw, coaxing her mouth open to hydrate, then whispering praise for her obedience.
You told her how perfect she was, and how much you love her. Calling her your sweet angel, your perfect doll, your precious girl.
You kissed her swollen lips. Kissed her jaw, her temple, her rosy cheeks, her shoulder.
And when you finally lifted her out of the tub, you helped her step into her soft, pink panties. Following up with one of your large shirts draping over her form. Her body and mind becoming soft and small for you.
You curled under the sheets together, tucking her head into your chest.
“Thank you for loving me… defending me… fucking me…” she drolled on, hardly aware of her words as she clung to you.
Stroking her back, you smiled against her forehead, “I’d do anything for you. Morning or night. I’ll be around.”
Wanda hummed dreamily, breaths turning to soft little snores.
Your chest ached in the best way, eternally grateful to find a love like this. To find a love with someone like Wanda. Your sweet, precious, guardian angel, Wanda.
Someone you’d kill for. Someone who’d kill for you.
The woman you could ruin and hold sweetly afterwards.
The woman that was beautiful, sexy, and adorable. Inside and out.
The woman you care most about. The woman you want this much. The woman you love this much.
Every part of you loves Wanda, and even with the chaos, you wouldn’t change a damn thing.
Just leaving this here. I love when she scrunches her nose. It makes me smile so I hope it brings a little smile to your day
I. Would. Die. For. Her. Nose scrunch.
It makes me automatically scrunch my nose too, it's kind of an affectionate thing where I'm from. Or maybe that's just me, I don't know, I don't spend time with other people from my country, RAHHHHHHH
I wanna cuddle with her and when she leans above me I wanna do little taps to her cheeks with my palms, so gently and fast, and giggle with her about it, I am a very silly bean actually
Warnings: Slime Monster!Wanda, Reader has a penis, Smut, Innocence Kink | 18+ Minors DNI
Summary: Knowing your slime girl is insatiable, you are never surprised to be awoken almost each morning by a rather whiny Wanda lusting after you.
At the feeling of a wet, cold goo pressing against your skin, you sighed with a sudden peace. Each morning when you awoke it was the same touch which was planted upon you. They were see-through arms that ran across your nude midsection before stopping just at your chest. With a shy demeanor they gently caressed your skin, only squeezing once they were confident enough in themselves to set you on fire. As they passed around your body, they left trails of goo that you’d happily scoop up with a finger and hum at the taste.
“Sorry,” came a small voice barely heard across the room, much less from right on top of you. “I…I needed you. ‘M so sorry, I can’t help it.”
The flushed hue of her body, only made up by slime, coursed a smile through your features. “It’s okay, princess. You know I don’t mind it. Hm, you’re practically drenched.” It wasn’t difficult to tell as her wet cunt brushed against your stomach. The fruity stench fueled your nostrils happily as you took in her red translucent appearance. “You have my permission, Wanda. Go on. Do whatever you need to feel better.”
At first she squirmed as always. There was no universe in which Wanda wouldn’t easily flush, even if made from scarlet slime, as soon as she inched herself down on top of you. Her hands were on you, their tentacle-like form still prodding at your shoulder as a means to support herself. Each day she waltzed around in her natural state of nudity, and yet you never grew tired of how wondrous her appearance was. Running your fingers through her thighs, the beast shuddered above you. There was nothing stopping her from lowering until your cock, already hard from your morning wood, brushed against her puffy folds.
“It’s so sticky,” Wanda whined as her features scrunched up. “Please, can I please make it go in? I’ll make you feel so good, I promise. I can’t…I can’t hold myself back. I need you to be inside of me, Y/N. Please let me do it. I’ll be your good girl.”
“You’re always my good girl,” you hummed happily. Squeezing her thick, squishy thighs, you nodded her way. “I already gave you your orders, Wanda. Go on and make me feel good. Show me how much of a good girl you are.”
Without the need for another word, Wanda did exactly as she was told. Her moans blared from the depths of her throat as she guided your hard dick into her pussy. The monster could control her size at her own will and she refused to let herself go empty, hence the decreasing size of her stretched out cunt. She wanted to be tight so you’d feel every single ridge of her inner walls, and be gripped as you watched yourself enter her.
You winced when first feeling the suddenly warm, soft goo as it was meant to. Inner walls hugged your penis without daring to let it escape. The deeper you wet, the fuller her slick pussy was. Mixes of her fruity juices and slime oozed out of her hole which craved to be stuffed to the brim. Matters were not made any better as the red creature buried her face against your chest seeking any sort of comfort at how good it felt to have you – to become one with you.
“S-so good,” Wanda grunted as you slid yourself deeper until she felt you pressing her sweetest spot. “I’m so deep. It’s…oh Y/N it feels amazing. You’re so b-big…”
“Just for you,” came your whimpered reply. Although you pride yourself in holding all the dominance in the relationship, you couldn’t help but make the woman do your bidding. She followed your instructions without a hint of hesitation, and you’d forever be grateful for her willingness to please no matter what. Since you had found her all alone, refusing to shun her from society as other humans had, Wanda was said to be forever in your debt. “Bounce like the pretty bunny you are, baby.” Laying back, you relaxed knowing it was her who’d do all the work in her state of need. Seeing Wanda lose control in such a way never fails to make you smile. “Make me cum, otherwise I’ll have to find something else to stuff with my pups.”
Her slimy cunt could barely fit your dick in it, but it made it all the better. Wanda bounced up and down as you told her, her tits jumping as their slapping sounds matched those made by your bodies reconnecting. Through her abdomen, your thick cock could still be seen, something her eyes never left with the more she squirmed.
She held onto you for dear life even when throwing her head back in pleasure. Never had Wanda felt the touch of a person until she met you, and once she lost all her innocence, she knew she wouldn’t ever leave your side. Whether you liked it or not, the slime monster had imprinted on you.
“That’s it, Wanda. Fuck, your pussy feels amazing. You’re squeezing me so good,” you groaned as you watched in awe how Wanda left trails of her goo on you. “Come on, baby. I’m so close. Let me stuff this pretty cunt with cum. ‘M gonna make you look so pretty covered in white.”
With the more words you spewed her way, the pace Wanda carried quickened. She didn’t stop until your tense balls released all the pent-up pressure they held. Even then the woman rode you as spurts of white were emptied inside of her, filling up her walls with a much lighter hue that she gladly took in. Grabbing her hips, you urged her to stay in place, ramming your cock as deep as you could into her cunt until she was full with cum.
“Oh, uhm, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make a mess,” Wanda shyly cried as she looked down within her aura of lust. She grimaced at the mixture of white and translucent red that coated your dick while attempting to move off only for you to keep her there. “I can clean it up with my mouth if you’d like. I…I don’t want to be a bad girl.”
Slowly gyrating your hips, you pulled your dick in and out of her with hunger. “Then do it, princess. Use that pretty mouth of yours to clean up this mess,” you muttered. Pulling Wanda up, you allowed a finger to drift through her pussy folds, ghosting over her bulbous clit, before bringing it to your mouth. At the lovingly sweet taste, you nearly came again. “And then I’ll have my morning treat if you don’t mind. Get to work, now.”
summary: natasha romanoff is your new secretary, and she's willing to help with your every need.
☰ PAIRING: sub!secretary!natasha x dom!ceo!reader
☰ TAGS: smut (18+), office!au, smut, risky sex, strap-on sex, rough sex, slight degradation kink, attempt at humour, cunnilingus, oral sex, overstimulation, cocksucking, spanking, bending natasha over your desk while she's in high heels and nothing else
☰ WARNING: 2.5k words of pure filth
masterlist
you slumped down into your armchair, letting out a groan so heavy it shook your seat with its weight. frustratedly kicking up your feet onto the desk, you tilted your head back, letting your eyelids flutter shut.
that day had been absolute hell, conference after meeting after documents. being the CEO of stark industries was far from heaven-like, when you actually took responsibility. (yes, that was a jab at tony.)
he was an eccentric man, never staying in one place for too long. deciding to travel the world with pepper, tony left you to his devices after reluctant agreement from your part. but then again, earning more money than you could keep track of was something you would never really complain about.
“dr. y/n? are you alright?”
ah, yes. there only one thing better than being the CEO of the biggest company in the world. it was having a secretary by the name of natasha romanoff.
blood red heels clicked against marble tiling, stopping right before your desk. you eyes trailing up the low-cut, tight-fitting dress she was wearing. your wandering eyes were hardly discreet, trailing over the curve of her hips and the generous inch of cleavage she had decided to show off.
natasha flushed slightly under your watchful gaze. she would be a liar if she said she didn’t enjoy being admired by you.
she knew it was wrong, pining after her boss, much less the CEO of such a big company, but she couldn’t help it. you were just so alluring, an enigma of your own accord.
looking up at her through half-lidded eyes, you sent her a slow smirk. “hey, nat.”
fuck, that was hot. natasha’s hands on a binder tightened. you had been so demanding today, yelling that your voice grew raspy, commanding and dominating – if natasha was being honest, she wouldn’t mind being yelled at like that by you.
but then again, you were so good to natasha. a soft spot, some might say. an obsession, you called it.
so maybe it wasn’t so accidental when natasha bent over to pick a pen up, right before your eyes, rounded ass in full view. or maybe during meetings, when the room was dark and she whispered a little too close into your ear. or even after hours, when she offered to give you massages but let her hands linger far too long.
but the way you looked at her sometimes, with the deliciously darkened eyes and the dangerous smile, it made her think her silly crush wasn’t so unrequited after all.
“good afternoon,” she said, giving you a cordial smile – or at least, she attempted to give you one. you could see the way her teeth dug into her plump lip while eyeing you in a black dress-shirt. it made your pride swell a little. or well, maybe a lot.
“been a tough day,” you murmured absent-mindedly, folding up the sleeves of your black shirt to your arms. natasha’s gaze burned holes into your forearms, then your partially unbuttoned shirt, then to your lopsided grin.
caught.
you chose not to respond to that, shifting in your seat to sift through some papers, leaving natasha to bask in her adorable embarrassment. oh, you were obviously showing off for natasha, but who could blame you? she was too good to be true.
“is there anything i could do to help?”
natasha’s question had barely left her lips before your expression morphed into the one she had imprinted into every inch of her brain.
the one where your eyes narrowed and digressed into hues of jet black. the way your lips curved, tongue darting to wetten dry lips. the one where you looked like you wanted to devour her.
the one that she had spent countless hours dreaming of with two fingers shoved up her pussy, in the dark of the night, where her secrets got locked up with a gold key.
“i can think of some ways,” your murmured, under your breath, just loud enough for natasha to hear. the reaction was almost immediate, the redhead shifting her legs a little bit closer, thighs pressing together. god, she was so wet.
“oh,” she whispered, almost a whimper. you swallowed at that divine sound, throat suddenly running dry.
just as you were about to make your move properly, natasha’s phone began buzzing with the ringtone of a call. then the moment was gone as quick as it came. your secretary fumbled for her phone, almost dropping it once.
“bruce needs some help with the project of JARVIS.” natasha tells you quickly as she ends the call, her cheeks flushed a rosy red that quite matched her hair. "i- i'll go now."
natasha turns haphazardly, not even waiting for your response before moving her feet to the door. fuck, why was she so aroused? she was probably just imagining it, of the possibility that you wanted her as well.
the redhead moved to grip the door metal, the cold metal feeling foreign in shaky hands.
but then cold fingertips were suddenly tracing along the back of her bare arms, up and down, sending tingles all through her body.
natasha gasped, not daring to turn around. god, those fingers were sinful.
"stay," you murmured quietly, right up against her ear. your secretary tensed up in your arms, knees bumping against the door. she could've buckled, there and then, folded right into your arms.
"unless i am reading this situation wrong, then you can take your leave, ms. romanoff,” you clarified with a husk in your voice, deft fingers leaving her hot skin for a moment. even those mere seconds without your touch left natasha feeling empty.
two could play at this game.
"i don't know, your perception skills have always been quite good," natasha murmured in response, almost a purr, as she pushed back up against you. you could feel the curve of her rounded ass against your crotch, and it only made you crave her more.
the edges of your lips twisted upwards into a devilish smirk, and your hands dug into her hips so hard it was sure to leave bruises. "let me hear it," you breathed, hands exploring the area of her lower stomach.
"shit," the curse fell from natasha's lips in a hasty breath right before she could answer you, a snarky remark dying on the tip of her tongue. you had slotted your leg between her thighs, pressing right up against the wetness of her sex.
"let me hear you say it," you repeated, the lower decibels of your voice sending a jolt of arousal straight to her core, giving her a shallow thrust to temporarily appease her needs.
"hear me say what, daddy?"
the moment those sinful words left her lips, natasha wanted to take it all back. god, why had she been so forward? why would she-
before natasha could finish the walk of shame down memory lane, you had let out a near animalistic groan, twisting her around and pushing your oh so beautiful secretary up against the wall.
pinning her wrists up against the wall with a singular hand, a long, steamy moan escaped natasha's mouth. you tilted your head to kiss her with a passion you didn't know you harboured.
the first kiss was ebb and flow, your bodies rocking like the gradual descent of a wave. it was a smoldering heat, not quite out of control, but just enough to make the both of you crave more.
the second kiss was harder, with natasha finally tugging onto the collar of your dress shirt, dragging you impossibly close. you licked and sucked at the sides of her open mouth.
the third kiss had natasha falling apart. you properly pushed her up against the wall, never ceasing to kiss her for all it was worth. your left hand tightened on her wrists and the other gripped her hip so hard it could bruise.
and the fourth kiss, well, there wasn't a fourth kiss. because you had already lifted natasha off her feet by then, roughly setting down onto your desk.
"wait, wait," natasha breathed, pulling away from your wandering hands with a shaky exhale. "we should lock the door."
"right, right," you huffed, listening to her nonetheless. it was probably a bad idea to bend your secretary over the desk when anyone could walk by at a given time.
when you turned back from closing the door, your jaw quite literally dropped. there natasha was, bent over your desk with paperwork pushed to the side, supple ass in your direct line of vision.
she turned back to look at you with a teasing smirk, hiking up the end of her scandalously short dress. you caught a flash of black lace.
"i'm waiting," she murmured, shifting her legs open wider. you stepped closer, drawing a gasp from natasha as you ran your hands over her ass.
"...i know, doll. you're dripping."
suddenly slapping the curve of her ass, natasha cried out, driving her hips back to reach you once again. you denied her of that particular pleasure, instead pushing the lingerie to the side and spanking her again.
purplish hues of red blossomed upon her pale skin. you did it again.
natasha moaned out your name, begging for you to touch her properly. you did it again.
you had a lot of fun watching the confident woman succumb to a mess of frenetic moans and incoherent whines. so you did it again.
by the time you were satisfied with spanking natasha, there wasn't an inch of skin left unblemished, all flushed and crimson from your ministrations.
"fuck, just touch me already." natasha whined, undulating her lower half against the tent of a strap in your pants.
"so impatient," you commented teasingly, eyes darkening several hues when you noted the wet spot on her panties. "you're so naughty, wearing lingerie to work. you've wanted this, mhm?"
the words died on her tongue when you thrust your hips forward, the thick strap entering her sodden pussy.
"please!" pretty mewls fell from natasha's mouth as you fucked into her, gripping at her sides with sprawled hands.
in no time at all, natasha was cumming all over your strap, dripping down her thighs. she had been stimulated by the spanking already, your actions only bringing her more arousal.
"cum already, pretty girl? so greedy," you groaned, fucking her thourgh her orgasm. using your teeth to pull down the zipper of her dress, natasha gasped at the cold air making contact with her heated skin.
you let your hands explore her body, going to grasp at natasha's tits. toying at her nipples seemed to be too much for her, the redhead spasming under you, gasps and whimpers escaping her mouth.
fuck, natasha could already feel another orgasm building up.
she had wanted this for so long, for you to rail her until she couldn't think, in your very office, over the very one you were fucking her into.
you forcefully pushed her back into the glass counter, her pebbled nipples being stimulated to no end. when you gave a particularly hard thrust, a lewd moan sounded from natasha, echoing around the confines of the room.
"hush, baby." you murmured, giving her two fingers to suck on. "don't wanna let everyone hear you, mhm?" your secretary nodded through bleary eyes, warm tongue tracing over your fingers.
just as natasha was about to cum, her phone that was in her pocket started ringing again.
"answer it," you said after two rings. even without facing natasha, you knew she was wearing that adorably sulky expression.
"don't wanna," natasha whined, still trying to chase the fragments of her second orgasm that were fading away. you frowned at her disobedience.
"answer it or i'll take out my cock."
the threat left natasha clenching even harder around you, which in turn only made you push the cock an inch further. "don't you dare stop," natasha gasped, hands reaching out behind to grab you.
deciding you had enough of her back-talk, you simply reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone and answering it for her.
"hey, nat? are you almost there? you told me you would come." bruce's voice crackled over the static of the call.
natasha's mortified expression quickly morphed into one of pleasure when you traced a finger over her glistening folds.
'you will be cumming,' you mouthed to your secretary with a shit-eating grin, as she rolled her eyes at you.
propping her up onto the desk, natasha was fully naked, save for her high heels, long legs hanging off the edge of the table. you had entrapped her in your arms, palms resting on either side of her body, still fully-clothed and standing.
"uh, nat? you there?"
you pressed the speakerphone next to her mouth, before gently stroking her clit. natasha bit back a moan, eyes accusing yet submissive.
"y-yeah," natasha managed to say somewhat steadily. then she fumbled. "i'll be there in a sex- sec! i'll be there in a sec,"
you bit back a chortle, distracting yourself by spreading her legs and moving to suck hickeys onto her thigh. natasha tried to push your head away, but she didn't really deny your touches.
"uhh okay, are you sick? you sound unwell."
natasha wasn't even half-listening at this point, eyes trained onto your mouth that was leaivng kisses higher and higher up her thigh. so close, yet so far.
you gave her a soft lick mid-thigh, and natasha nearly fell apart there and then.
"i'm - oh, fuck!" natasha trailed off into an airy moan when you delved your tongue into her folds, far too impatient.
"sorry, sorry! i'm- i saw a bug- it's very - jesus christ, it's moving very fast. bugs are pieces of shits who have no manners - ah! - you know what, i'll call you back later! bye!"
natasha was the one to break first, desperately pressing the 'end call' button. you smirked.
"oh, so i'm a bug now? can bugs make you scr-"
before you knew it, natasha was pulling you in to taste her further in. your tongue explored her warm cavern, lapping at all the juices she left in your wake.
when you found that one spot, it was then that her overstimulated cunt met its climax, the orgasm taking over a hold of her body in spasms of pleasure.
you shoved two fingers into natasha's open mouth to shut her up as she drooled, mouth dumbly sucking. her screams were muted into a blabbering mess of pleasured sighs.
before your secretary could even properly come down from her kaleidoscopic high, a knock on the door captured your attentions within a matter of seconds.
your eyes locked with natasha's, and fear flashed in hers. but all you did was move to sit at your desk, with an eerie calmness, hand hovering over the automatic sensor to unlock the door.
natasha spluttered as you gestured for her to crawl under your desk with a smirk of sinful delights.
so when one of your co-workers walked into your office with a file report in hand, they were blissfully unbeknownst to that ever-willing secretary of yours, hidden under the desk, quietly sucking on your cock once again.
taglist: @gayestfeels26 / part 2 / masterlist
if you want to be added to my taglist, feel free leave a comment or an ask. as always, thanks for reading :)
you visit the strip club downtown with your co-workers to let off some steam, but it seems like you've caught the eye of none other than the 'black widow'.
🖤 pairing: sub!stripper!natasha x fem!cop!reader
🖤 word count: 3145
🖤 note: SMUT (18+), this one been marinating in my drafts like im preserving wine
main m.list | AO3
You don’t know why you let your co-workers drag you to a strip club on a Friday night, but you’re sure as hell not complaining.
There are plenty of women, everywhere. Women in bikinis, women in stockings, women in thigh garters. You're in wonderland, honestly.
Hey, cops needed to let off some steam too, okay?
The cheers and hoots surround your table as Carol gets a lap dance by a brunette stripper. The blonde woman is blushing – you didn’t know she could do that – but she’s having the time of her life.
As Carol slides a bill between the stripper's tits with no lack of embarrassment, you laugh and get up to go get another drink.
It wasn't an overly rare occasion for you to be letting loose, but it was infrequent enough that your co-workers quite physically hauled you to this adult entertainment facility after a particularly taxing case.
ULTRAVIOLET was the most popular strip club in Queens, New York City. They served both men and women, with sparkling reviews about customer service and atmospheric aesthetics.
Carol, Valkyrie, and Maria would simply not shut up about the 'Black Widow', who was supposedly the sexiest, most stunning stripper any of them had ever laid their eyes on.
"She fuckin' looked at me in the eye," Valkyrie had moaned on a Monday morning, speaking of this stripper they so revered. "I can't look at anyone the same no more."
You were about to make a quick-witted retort about Valkyrie’s dramatization of mere eye contact, but Maria had only nodded solemnly in agreement and you had to admit you didn’t take Maria’s judgment lightly.
Aside from the talk about the Black Widow, you were hit with the novelty of the strip club once you stepped foot within.
As the Commanding Officer of the New York City Police Department, 104th Precinct, the boundless freeness of this place was quite a sight to behold. What with the heavy music, and the beer-tinged scent of the air, and nude women – the sensory overload did wonders to take your mind off work.
"You here alone?"
You spin on the barstool at the sound of a sultry voice. You have to physically stop your jaw from dropping to the floor at the sight of a breathtakingly gorgeous woman.
Scantily clad in matching sequined undergarments and fishnet stockings, stands a redheaded woman leaning against the bar counter, looking at you with magnificent green eyes.
"I'm not alone- I mean, not in that way, because I'm just here with friends. Well, co-workers, but they're my friends as well-"
Splendid job, Deputy Inspector Y/N L/N, you say internally. You can look in the eye of murderers and terrorists, but one look at a pretty woman and you're fuckin' gone.
"You're cute," the lady interrupts with a small tilt of her head, saving you from digging your own grave further.
You swallow harshly, feeling her manicured nails trace the curvature of your bicep.
"Just cute?" you ask, trying not to sound too hopeful. Her fingers move down to the collar of your white shirt, fiddling with the fabric. Call it stupidity, but you feel the urge to reciprocate the contact. You move your hands to her hips.
The lady smirks. "Hm, maybe not just cute. But I think you need to show me."
The redhead hasn't broken eye-contact all the while. Your eyes feel like they're burning. You slide your left hand down to the hem of her panties, and tug slightly. When her panties snap against her skin, she jolts with the impact.
You smirk with victory, pulling her in by her waist so your mouth is pressed against her skin. "I'll show you," you murmur, kissing the warm with a fervour you didn't know you possessed.
The woman's breath hitches and she pulls your head closer. You accept the invitation, beginning to leave a hickey on the sensitive spot of her neck.
After a few moments of your concentrated work on her neck, the woman finally lets out a sigh-turned-moan of pleasure, and you nearly pass out from how sexy it is.
She tugs your head away and pulls you in by the collar for a kiss. Your eyelids flutter close.
Your quavering breaths meet in a frantic harmony, and you want to explore her mouth, but she ends it as quickly as it begins.
"What's your name?" the redhead asks, warm breath on your lips. "Y/N," you say hoarsely, trying and failing not to sound like you were left high and dry.
You slide your hands to the bare skin of her torso, silently delighting in the way it raises goosebumps. You need to get more of her, feel more of her. "Do I get to know your name?" you ask.
The lights in the strip club suddenly dim, and the music takes on a far more sensual tone.
The woman slides out of your grasp like sand falling through your fingertips, and you're left with the ghost of her burning embrace. Your question remains unanswered.
"Let's give it up for our next dancer," the bar owner says into his mic, and the noise dramatically fades away. "The Black Widow!"
Blue and violet lights dance in your vision as the woman who had kissed you just moments before, approaches the stage, hips swaying in time to the music.
Your eyes narrow, and you down the bourbon in one shot. You'd need it.
When the beat drops, The Black Widow throws her head back and she begins to move.
God, it's criminally sensual, the way she danced, unlike anything you'd ever seen before. You couldn't put into words the allure she possessed.
The redheaded woman runs a hand over her own skin, dipping into every curve, as the music crescendos, and you know you're not the only patron with their heart thrumming in their chest.
When she begins twirling on the pole, you see men clearing out a month's paycheck for this divine woman, and honestly? You don't blame them.
Money gets flung onto the stage and catcalls get yelled as perhaps the most erotic scene unfolds before your very eyes.
When The Black Widow lifts up a thigh to show off her tight stockings, you're unable to hold back any longer, drawn to the stage like a moth to a flame.
Sitting back down into your original seat, leaving the empty glass of bourbon behind, all else fades away. Your world stumbles on its axis as the woman makes her way over to you, running a hand through her luscious locks of hair.
Your mouth dries up as The Black Widow turns around in front of you and fully bends over, exposing the delicious curve of her ass. You sink back into your seat, bringing two fingers to your lips in silent contemplation. Internally, you're fighting the goddamned World War II with your libido.
She's still swaying in beat to the music, and spins around as the sound of a saxophone starts playing. The last thing you see is a playful wink from the gorgeous woman before an ample asset of tits covers your vision.
Fuck, you're not going to survive.
Your nose quite literally gets buried between her tits as the woman climbs onto you. You would pay to see your co-workers' faces right now. How would you ever face them at work again?
“Get it, Y/N!” you hear Maria call in the distance, and a shrill whistle follows.
You smirk against the pair of tits in your face, inhaling the scent of her perfume, and her sweat, and simlply her. You let the stripper work her magic.
After a few more minutes of your paradise, she pulls away, skin flushed.
You regard her with a darkened gaze, pulling out your wallet. You stuff a bill in the side of her thong, making sure to snap the fabric in the same spot as you had previously.
The woman's face flickers in recognition. She shakes her head, then dips her head down to whisper in your ear.
"11pm. Room 8. Private session. Don't be late."
Like it was planned, the music comes to an end. The redhead doesn't wait for your response before she gets off your lap, raising her arm in acknowledgement of the roaring cheers. Her hips sway as she walks away from you, and you don’t even pretend that your eyes are glued to her curves.
Money gets thrown onto the stage once again, all in hopes of earning a fraction of what you had just experienced.
"Holy shit, Y/N, what was that?" Carol yells at you over the noise, slapping your back. You shrug plainly with a stupid smug smirk as Valkyrie whines in jealousy.
Oh, you were so fucking ready for 11pm.
.
"A private, fuckin' session for Deputy Inspector Y/N fucking L/N. Who would'a thought," Carol slurs, banging a shot glass onto the round table.
You roll your eyes at Carol's dramatization. It wasn't as if your status as Commanding Officer steered women away from you – in fact, some of them were quite into it.
But for your prevalently horny friends who had women over just about every week, you were considered starved of sweet pussy and were in dire need of quenching that thirst.
So when you broke the news that the most sought-after stripper in the most famous strip club in Queens, had just offered you a private session, lo and behold the chaos that ensued.
"Shit, girl, I would get down on my knees for that lady. You are one lucky bastard," Valkyrie adds in, ruffling your hair as you grumble.
"You'd get down on your knees for any woman, actually," Maria says, the usually composed woman more laid back in the environment of the strip club. Or maybe it was the alcohol.
Valkyrie lets out an aggrieved noise, sitting up to whack Maria's arm, but in her drunken state she misses and slaps Carol's drink out of her hands.
"Oi!" The blonde cries out indignantly, looking at the drink that had splattered onto her clothing.
Carol grabs Maria's martini out of her hands and throws it at Valkyrie in retaliation.
Before you know it, your three idiot friends have gotten temporarily suspended from the strip club for 'causing a ruckus'.
Just like that, and the clock ticks down to eleven o’clock.
.
It’s 11pm, and you're overly aware of your police badge at your belt and your gun in your holster.
Or at least, you were, until Natasha swung one leg across your lap and sat herself down with an unspoken grace, effectively sitting on your lap. In the privacy of the enclosed room, you unashamedly stare down at her cleavage, eyes several hues darker than they were before.
“See something you like?” Natasha asks breathily, running her hands over her full breasts, pushing them up to elicit a reaction from you.
The moving lights in the dark room cast shadows, and when you back look up with a sinful smirk and half-lidded eyes, Natasha swears she feels herself get wet.
All the air in your lungs dissipates when Natasha begins grinding on your thigh in beat to the music, hips moving skilfully in the sexiest fashion imaginable.
Fuck, this woman was going to be your demise.
Your hands feel like they’re on fire as you watch her put on a show, simply aching to move and touch. Natasha trails her fingertips down your tensed arms, running over the curve of your biceps. She smirks at the goosebumps it raises, her hands dwelling to the edge of your pants.
Your breath catches as her fingers find the outline of your police badge tucked underneath your shirt. The Black Widow looks up at you, expression a no-tell. “You on duty?”
“Nope.”
“Is that why you’ve got a gun in your belt?”
“Nah, that one’s just for pretty girls like you,” you respond slowly, hands tentatively going to rest on her thighs. When the smirk reappears on the stripper's face, you relax and let your shoulders untense.
“If you say so, officer,” she comments huskily, leaning forward to nip at your earlobe. The shiver runs through your bones.
You’re about to counter with a quick retort of your own before Natasha begins grinding on that bulge in your pants, treating your gun like it was a strap.
“Shit,” you say breathlessly, hands burning at being unable to touch. Behind your back, your nails were digging into your palms so hard you swore you had already drawn blood.
Fuck, it was torture.
Her pretty moans and breathy whines ring in your ears as she moves her hips roughly, a torment to your demise.
After a while, you come to the realisation that you can feel how wet Natasha is through her undergarments, soaked from having just dry-humped your thigh.
“Fuck me,” she says, and your throat dries up. “What?” you ask, dazedly, still staring at her bouncing tits in front of your face.
“I said, fuck me,” Natasha repeats, head tilting to the side, halting all her movements so you would look at her.
You splutter. “But the sign said–”
“What can I say, officer, you wanna make me break the rules.”
That’s all the confirmation you need before your hands can finally touch her, finally, meeting and warm skin and sweat droplets and everything you’d ever wanted.
You let out a huff of amusement as Natasha wraps her pretty lips around your fingers and sucks, making lewd noises with her tongue. Your ears burn, now, having been tainted with the beautiful symphony of this woman’s pleasure.
“You’re very naughty,” you comment, your other hand slipping under her top to reach her full breasts. Palming at the mounds in your hand, you face moves to the bare skin of her collarbone and begin kissing it.
“Don’t make marks,” Natasha says breathlessly, when you let your teeth nick the soft skin there, and there’s a pit of desire in your stomach that growls in frustration, but you know you have to respect her wishes and instead move your mouth down to her chest.
Natasha doesn’t remember when you slipped off her bra, but she isn’t complaining about your haste and instead throws her head back when your mouth latches onto her breasts.
“Mhm, that feels good,” she moans, weaving her fingers through your hair and scratching at your scalp. You hum in acknowledgement against her flushed skin, your tongue paying special attention to her hardened buds.
When both your hands move to the underside of her thighs and lift her up, Natasha lets out an embarrassing squeak at the sudden change of position. But as you lay her down on the sofa with your body weight pressing into hers, those whimpers turn into filthy moans.
You stall for a moment, hovering above her with your silver necklace dangling right above her face. She looks so pretty like this, her hair all splayed out, the sheen of sweat on her skin making her look tantalizing.
Natasha catches your swinging necklace between her teeth, winking seductively at you, and you’re snapped out of your moment, a laugh taking over.
“Have I told you that you’re incredibly bad?” you say, in between kisses scattered between her breasts, down her sternum and to her stomach.
“You- you have,” Natasha replies with some difficulty, as your kisses get lower and lower. “Maybe you should punish me for it, officer;”
She shuts up when you slowly spread open her thighs, revealing the dripping heat that is Natasha’s cunt. You maintain eye contact with her as you lower your mouth to her pussy, her lust-filled stare making your head spin.
When your tongue meets her cunt, it was game over.
“Fuck,” Natasha moans, already unable to continue looking at you in the eye, hands moving to grip the cushion of the sofa. Her thighs clamp around your head, and you’re suffocating, but in a way that feels so good you could die in bliss.
You lap at her dripping cunt like you were starving, like you would die without it. Natasha’s moans get louder. You move your mouth in rocking motions, pushing your tongue further in with each thrust.
“More,” she gasps out, and you quicken your pace, fingertips digging bruises into her plush thighs. In retrospect, you don’t remember how long you stay there, ravenously eating her out like your life depended on it.
When you feel her breathing get faster and more shallow, breathy little whines that get louder and louder, and you know she’s about to cum.
Instead of gently bringing her to a high, you internally say fuck it and decide that if this was the one chance you had, with the most sought-after stripper in Queens, you were going to make it an unforgettable one.
You move your mouth up to wrap your lips around her swollen, throbbing clit, and you suck on it, hard. In tandem with that, you easily slide two fingers in, curling them inside her to hit that sweet spot. Natasha positively screams, and you swear it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
Her orgasm floods the lower half of your face and your fingers, and the little mewls of your name Natasha lets out as she comes down from her high is one you’d always remember.
Finally, you emerge from between Natasha’s thighs. Slowly, you kiss up her stomach and her breasts, up the way you came down from, and you meet Natasha’s blissed out face.
You take a moment to take in her tousled hair, her swollen kissable-pink lips, her smudged makeup, her shallow gasps for air, and the pure lust in her eyes.
Just like that, and another jolt of arousal hits you. Before you can act on it, Natasha pulls you into a messy kiss, hot and sweaty.
“You look so fucking good-” Natasha says in between the frantic meeting of your mouths. “With my cum all over your jaw.”
You bite back a growl at her words, wanting to let her know just how exactly good you can make her cum. Natasha catches your hand that slides down to her wet cunt, before bringing it up and placing a kiss on your fingertips. “Our time is up,” she whispers, nodding to the clock behind you that now reads 11.31pm. “One private session lasts 30 minutes.”
This woman was going to be the death of you.
You turn back to The Black Widow with dilated pupils, slowly reaching into your pocket for that leather Saint Laurent wallet, and the ghost of a smirk on your lips.
In the wee hours of twilight the next day, you leave the strip club with your wallet emptied, a searing cramp in your hand, and the memory of an unforgettable woman whose real name you hadn’t even known.
Boy, you had one hell of a story to tell your friends.
i think i'm not gonna taglists anymore, sorry yall. there's just so many usernames and i have to constantly update it :(
in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)
pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader
chapter summary ★ natasha wakes you up with a pleasant surprise, your gremlin kids are the life and death of you, tony stark is annoying, marital sexting is pretty tough, and you're homesick for your wife's pussy.
warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, some pretty heavy kinks: blowjobs, marital sexting, breeding kink, daddy kink, probably more.
word count ★ 3.1k (feeding yall)
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
You slept like the dead.
Or at least you did, on most mornings, oblivious to the waking world in your sweet slumber.
Today was different, though. There was a distinct feeling of pleasantness swimming in your subconscious, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It urged you awake, a certain type of wet heat that insistently tugged and pulled.
It wasn’t until a jolt of arousal shot through you like a nine-millimetre shotgun that you jerked awake with a start.
“Shit!” you gasped, yanking off the blanket from your lower half, to reveal your ethereal wife perpetrating what could only be described as a wet dream.
Natasha’s head was obediently lowered in the midst of sucking your erect shaft, her viridescent gaze trained unto you with a twinkle of mischief. Wandering hands were sheathed under the front of your sweatshirt, painted nails mapping out the expanse of your tensed abdomen.
“Way to wake me up, baby,” you say breathlessly, a hand flying to the back of Natasha’s head in hopes of speeding up your ever-approaching high. You buck your hips once, effectively propelling your hips further forward, guiding your shaft into your wife’s mouth.
Natasha hums mindlessly, palming at your torso like it was second nature. Her mouth moves languidly, relaxed and slow, tongue trailing over the hefty length of your cock in a teasing manner.
Like the devil incarnate, Natasha’s hand glides a broad stroke from your abs to the base of your cock, and starts working her hand in firm strokes. “Fuck,” you groan, a hand twisting into soft locks of your wife’s hair.
The joint stimulation on the head and base of your cock have you barrelling towards a preordained high at a frighteningly fast pace, and the absolutely criminal way Natasha’s head bobs up and down is no help at all.
“Fuck, baby, m’so close,” you gasp, throwing your head back and letting your eyes slide shut. Your big hand guides Natasha’s head with a certain type of tacit power, unwritten but distinct. Natasha feels herself get wet, and in turn eagerly plunges her mouth down with a renewed vigour.
When Natasha lets out a filthy moan from the back of her throat, stifled by the sheer size of your cock in her mouth, pleasure overwhelms your every sense.
You groan, hips snapping up for the entirety of your cock to be buried in Natasha’s warm and velvet throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
“Mama! Mommy!”
The undeniable sound of little feet scampering across the wooden floorboard and down the stairs, unceremoniously hauls you out of your heaven-like ascension.
Natasha pulls her lips off your cock with a satisfying ‘pop’ sound. “Time to get up, honey,” she says with the arch of her eyebrow, smoothly turning over in practised motion and leaving you hung and sprung.
“Baby,” you whine, pitifully throwing your head back. Your words fall on deaf ears and you grumble and pull up your sweatpants, just in time for the door to swing open and release the incoming wave of chaos.
“MAMA!!” Emilia shrieks, leaping onto the bed with fearsome aggression, her younger twin brother in tow.
Your five-year olds didn’t let you catch any breaks, Emilio roaring into your ear while dragging his toy pterodactyl across your face. “Rawr! Rawr! Wake up, ma!”
You leap up in a haze of bedsheets and screaming kids, all your previous indiscretions quickly faded at the sight of your bundles of joy.
Emilia squeals as you easily hoist her up with one arm, the little girl getting thrown into the air. Emilio receives much of the same treatment, getting dangled in the air by one leg.
“Mommy! Save us!” The boy cries out with a delighted grin and a hearty attempt at hitting your side. You swing them around with fake growls that incite laughter and squeals, steering clear of any sharp corners or wayward objects.
Natasha is more preoccupied with hugging your sleepy ten-year old, and cooing softly into her ear.
Marina is the oldest of your three, quiet and reserved, with brilliance sparkling behind her soft eyes. “Hi, mama,” she greets you with a small smile, and your heart melts a little.
“Hi, darling angel,” you reply with a big grin of your own. “Where’s my morning kiss?”
At the prospect of the feared morning kiss, Emilio yells and wreaks absolute havoc, the toy truck forgotten in favour of escaping your clutches.
“No mama! No kiss!” Emilia protests, the Russian determination behind her set eyes a splitting image of her mother’s. Emilio is long gone, visibly hidden under your bedside table.
You hoist Marina up onto your hip, smiling at the sweet kiss she pecks on your cheek. “It’s mommy’s turn now,” you say easily, sliding up to Natasha with a mischievous grin.
“Ew!” Your little girl giggles, hiding behind her hands as you share a chaste kiss with your wife, one that is far too short for your liking. Either way, the morning kiss routine was a success.
The attention in the crowded room is drawn by a simple clap of Natasha’s hands. She stands arms akimbo, rocking her bed hair, sleep still half-written in her eyes — but the whole look is so endearing that you can’t help but fall in love all over again.
“Okay, kids. Time to get ready for school! Who wants breakfast?”
The cheer that arises from your children is nothing short of pure jubilation. Emilio starts a chant of ‘Frosted Flakes! Frosted Flakes!’ that has them marching in line out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen.
Natasha laughs, following their trail, but you drag her back expectantly.
With one arm hanging off the top of the doorframe and the other wrapped around her waist, you pull Natasha into that long sought-after kiss.
“Mhm,” you hum contentedly, inhaling her sweet scent. “I love you.”
Natasha slowly slides her hands up your arms, savouring the kiss. She presses her palms to your cheeks, adoration dancing in her eyes.
“I love you too.”
*****
The Frosted Flakes do not end up on the breakfast table, after all, because Natasha reasons that the kids had eaten it for three breakfasts in a row and their teeth would rot and fall off.
Toast and scrambled eggs, courtesy of your little handiwork in the kitchen, is the eventual outcome. Food is food to a bunch of hungry gremlins, either way, and the breakfast gets scarfed down in no time at all.
“You’re gonna go soon?” Natasha asks you in the kitchen, giggling at your teddy-bear patterned apron. You make a non-committal hum against your wife’s chest, wanting to stay in her arms for an eternity.
“Mama, we have to go to school,” Marina calls from the front porch, the door clicking open. “I need help with my shoe!” Emilio cries out, hopping into the kitchen with a singular shoe. “I got my shoes done on my own!” Emilia chimes in proudly, tugging on her backpack straps.
Natasha laughs, stroking your hair affectionately. “No rest for the wicked,” she says. “Be a responsible parent and send Marina to school, then go to work. The twins’ school bus will be here anytime.”
You exhale with a smile, pulling your wife in for a kiss that is a tad too long. Tugging off the pink apron, you’re glad you already changed into your work attire — a collared white shirt rolled up to your elbows, a grey-patterned tie, and matching slacks.
Natasha looks you up and down approvingly, then her eyes glimmer with an incited flame as she straightens your tie. You definitely don’t miss the way her hands glide smoothly across your chest to straighten out the wrinkles, and you resist the fluttering sensation that blooms under her touch.
“What a handsome young woman,” Natasha comments, tip-toeing to peck your cheek. You smile widely, preening under your wife’s attention. “Only for you,” you reply happily. “I’ll be off, then.”
“Mama, let’s go,” Marina probes, head poking into the kitchen. Her eyes soften at the sight of Natasha, proceeding to wave cutely. “Bye, mommy.”
Like little ducks, your three children follow you out of the house, with their miniature backpacks and shoes. Natasha watches adoringly from the porch, blowing kisses to Emilia when she yells one last “Bye, mommy!”.
Your Audi SQ7 peels out the driveway, engine revving. Marina is looking out the window, humming ‘American Pie’ with a little smile. As your home fades away in the rearview mirror, you think that this life was all you’d ever need.
***
“Fury, tell Tony that not sponsoring the coffee machines in my building is frankly, quite rude behaviour,” you comment, sitting next to the aloof man who’s snacking on a packet of dried fruit. Steve steals bits of the snack when Tony’s not looking, much to Fury’s chagrin.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Tony replies hotly, snatching back the piece of fruit in Steve’s hand. “You literally leaked the photo of me in a maid outfit, for the whole world to see. You know how many sleazy men have slid into my DMs since then? Pepper hasn’t let that go!”
“What, are you mad that the public now knows that Pepper’s the one that does the dicking down?” you retort. “And Steve was one of those ‘sleazy men’!”
The accused blonde looks away quickly, suddenly very preoccupied with the tiling of the floor. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve mumbles.
“That’s enough,” Fury admonishes with an unamused look. “The three of you need to get your shit together. Regardless of whether or not Stark is a bottom, I can’t have the CEOs of my powerhouse companies making a bad name. You know how that reflects on me? Stark Industries, SHIELD, L/N-Corp Worldwide Media: The Desolate Downfall of Nick Fury.”
“Is this because I modelled for the gay sex toy shop company? Because that’s just homophobic,” Steve reasons, folding his arms. “And Bucky liked the advert a lot!”
Tony scoffs, making paper aeroplanes with the papers on Fury’s desk. “We literally bring in millions upon millions for you each year. I’m sure that forgives the one time I was high during Y/N’s media conference. The Minister didn’t even notice! He’s like 82, anyways. Close to your age, Fury.”
“And I’m not sorry for calling the Netflix director a bitch on live TV,” you add in. “They’ve got no reason for cancelling all the sapphic shows left and right! My wife and I were invested in Gentleman Jack, okay?”
Fury sighs, the scene before him a spectacle he was no stranger to by now.
You, Tony and Steve were the face of the up-and-coming generation of brilliant minds and creative thinking. He supposed your overwhelming success and proved greatness softened the blow of your discrepancies in maintaining an unblemished professional image.
“Moving on,” Fury continues. “I want to talk about Project Eagle. As you should know from last year’s report……”
Just then, your phone vibrates in your pocket, with a notification from Natasha’s contact.
You, indeed, were hard.
Upon reading Natasha’s last message, you shut your phone off so quickly that Steve turns and raises an eyebrow at you. You clear your throat and shift in your seat, evidently affected.
The heat that surges through your body pays no help in your focus on Fury’s briefing. You can feel the flush creeping on from the back of your neck, spreading down your body and rushing towards the area between your legs.
Natasha, why have you forsaken me? You think helplessly, the noises in the office fading to a low buzz. When your phone vibrates again, your finger clicks on the message before your brain can catch up to you.
The image that Natasha sends you has you choking on absolutely nothing, coughing up air like a woman possessed.
Lacy red lingerie displaying thick thighs and a soft tummy should not be this breathtaking, but Natasha pulls it off anyway.
Filthy images flit into your mind uncontrollably, searing images like a broken record player. Your dick has a mind of its own, pressing hot and tight against the seam of your pants.
“L/N,” Fury announces, voice booming and hauling you out of your trance. “What seems to be the issue?”
In the background, Steve and Tony giggle like schoolgirls, knowing all too well what had occurred. You clear your throat again, shoving your phone into your pocket, hopelessly trying to erase the blessed image of your wife from your memory, just for a moment longer.
“No issues here,” you say with a forced smile, fighting demons with your rock-hard erection you’re desperately trying to cover with a report file. “I’m all dandy, sir.”
“Right,” Fury says disbelievingly, his good eye flickering downwards for a fraction of a second. Embarrassment eats you up whole.
“Let’s hope your attention span is just as ‘dandy’.”
***
“Natty,” you pant, with your wife pinned under you, hot and tight inside of her.
“I can’t believe you did that,” you grunt, punctuating each word with a firm thrust of your hips. “Made me so fucking hard at work.”
Following your incident in Fury’s office, you had exhausted every fibre of your willpower not to lock yourself in a bathroom stall and jerk off like a nymphomaniac.
After a gruelling day of work and coming back to a house of sleeping children, you had wasted no time in claiming your stake.
“I’ve been blue balled for twelve hours,” you groan into Natasha’s neck, mouthing at the flushed skin with fervour. “Spare me some sympathy, darling.”
“Oh, my poor baby,” your wife teases, tracing a feather-light hand over your tensed back muscles and clutching at the back of your neck. “You’re so eager, aren’t you?”
“Mhm,” you growl, scraping your sharp teeth over her collarbone, leaving violet imprints at a respectable-enough level. You roll your hips into Natasha’s, drawing relentless waves of pleasure and a rocking motion that has her throwing her head back.
Natasha’s erratic breathing and badly-disguised moans are music to your ears, a sweet symphony you’d been missing all day. You groan as her velvet walls clench tight around you, hot and wet and all-encompassing.
“You feel amazing,” you pant, the clefted tip of your shaft bumping against her cervix with how deep you nest inside of her.
A high-pitched whine sounds from the back of Natasha’s throat, as her legs spasm in the air. “Wanna fuck you senseless, please,” you groan.
“Do it,” she challenges breathily. You lean forward, manhandling her deliciously thick thighs, pressing your wife’s knees to her head.
The arousal that builds in your lower stomach is pure white heat, fueled by the breathless cries of your wife under you.
“Fuck,” you cry out, reaching new spots you haven’t before. You surge forth, an unstoppable train, drilling your shaft into Natasha’s dripping cunt like it was your only reason for living. Because maybe it was, as you transcend earthly boundaries with her, only her.
Subconsciously, your hands fly to Natasha’s hefty tits, grabbing the shaking mounds. “Y’so pretty, babygirl,” you say, half-drunkenly, high of the white-hot pleasure that Natasha draws out of you.
She’s untouchable heaven, silky moans and raspy cries, a soft tummy with rolls that you greedily grasp in your hands.
“Daddy,” Natasha cries, crescent nails scratching down your arms, her suspended legs shaking in the air. The airy lilt of your title makes you leak. “Ugh, fuck,” you grunt, pounding her into the bedframe, sweaty and slick.
“Let me come inside, please?” you practically beg, wide eyes transfixed at the area your shaft meets her cunt. Natasha whines breathlessly, a hand moving to clasp at the sheets. “Yeah, I-I’m on the pill.”
That’s all the confirmation you need before pinning Natasha down with spread hands. You shift on the bed as you mount her, skin-to-skin with your shaft fully-lodged inside of your wife.
Natasha gives you this dizzy look, glazed-over eyes portraying complete submission.
Then you start moving again, and the world explodes in your hands.
“Oh, fuckkk,” you groan, shoving your fingers into Natasha’s mouth to stop her pleasured screams from waking up the whole house.
The speed at which you drive your hips into Natasha’s is downright sinful, smearing slick all over her rounded ass, dripping onto the bed.
You’re transfixed, as your wife’s big mounds bounce in time with your thrusts, making you drool with want. An animalistic growl leaves your throat as you push yourself in, even deeper than before, making Natasha arch above the bed with a muffled cry.
Just like that, with you buried inside Natasha, do you fall apart by the seams, an unwinding intricate tarp.
Your load gets buried deep inside Natasha’s womb, and you continue with shallow thrusts. “Mhmn,” Natasha moans, following soon after, spurts of slick coating your cock in waves of overarching pleasure.
“Babydoll,” you groan mindlessly, palming at her sides. You come so heavily that it flows out of Natasha, a dribble of thick white fluid, and your wife fingers it back in so desperately that you could get hard all over again.
You collapse unceremoniously onto the bed next to Natasha. “I want more kids,” you state. You grope your wife’s tummy like it would conjure new life, an expectant look on your face.
“Three is enough,” Natasha says breathlessly, skin shining with a sheen of fresh sweat. She locks eyes with you, hair tousled and lips curled into an adoring smile.
“Okay, fine,” you mutter your acquiescence, both of you knowing that statement wouldn’t hold up for long. “...Give me a minute, then I’ll clean up. You need some water, baby?”
Natasha lets out a pleased hum, snuggling into your chest.
She kisses your left boob affectionately, as you groan with sensitivity, playfully swatting at her arm. “No need. Just want you.”
“You have me,” you respond softly, running a hand through the brown locks of your wife’s hair, flattening it out with gentle strokes. “You always will.”
so that's chapter one of 'home is where the heart is!' i personally choose to believe pepper straps tony down every night. what are your thought on the kids?? mommy!nat?? butch!reader?? the incorporation of the texts?? there's so much feedback i require tbh
A more precise compilation of reblogged fics by deactivated user: Sytoran
Original ask about cthulhuscurse & sytoran(so like the first list) here
(Note: This list is made because I feel like im going to hit a link limit on the original ask and I keep finding more fics for sytoran, the og list will still be up but im going to copy fics from the og ask to over here as a more precise, complete list for sytoran so if you see duplicates that is why)
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Boudoir Photography
Bunnies And Strawberries
Doctors Orders
Extra Credit
Giddy up
God your insatiable
Heat Waves
I'm (C)reaming of a white Christmas
Kick a Ball, Score a Hot Mom
Study Break
Taunt
NSFW Alphabet
Lacy, Oh Lacy
What a Mess
Babysitter Duty
Babysitter Duty Part 2
Teom Part 1 Double edged Sword
Teom Part 2 Pretty Girls
Teom Part 3 Accidental or Not
Teom Part 4 Fascinating Consultancies
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Break the rules
Ice cream
Jailhouse rock
Mile High Club
Obsession, Possession
Office hours
My Divine Goddess Part 1
My Divine Goddess Part 2 A Bloody Lie
My Divine Goddess Part 5 Fallen Cradles
Home is Where the Heart is Part 1 Bentleys and Blueballs
Home is Where the Heart is Part 2 Surfboards and Sourdough
hello!!! do you maybe have links for cthulhus and sytoran's fics? if you know them? 🙏🏻
Hello, random seeker of lost writers fics
I do have some reblogged works of Cthulhus from when they returned to tumblr after their first deactivation before they left again
Though I have none from before they first deactivated tragically.
Sytoran's fics sadly I never got the chance to reblog i dont think since I made this side blog after their deactivation tho I do believe their works are still on ao3 but have been orphaned (I can probs list their titles and you can look them up through ao3's filtering system and just search for the orphaned fics)
Update: I have gone searching for reblogs of the fics from said writers and have found some for sytoran! And more of cthulhuscurses works!
I've linked them below
And will update more if I've found more
The reblogged works of cthulhuscurse
WANDA
Camera
The lion & the lamb
Demonic nature
De-loveliest
Holiday delights
Leather and Lace
WandaNat
Guiding light
Surprise, surprise
Update:
More found past works
Nat fics
Night secrets
Extra credit
Let me go
Fun tonight
Sweet talk
Hopeless
Obcasio
Sweetest devotion
Submission
Late night
Suburbia
Wanda fics
Welcome home
Believer
Inspections
Drive you insane
Silver bells
Hold it
Doin' time
Venomous
Swim with me
Wanda's web V1
Wanda's web V2
A fresh start (webbed hearts au)
What to expect when youre expecting
Rosemary
The more the merrier
Chrome hearts
Deer in headlights
Rules and regulations
Her majesty
All over her
Birthday girl
Beneath the full moon
Angelic
The one with the farm hand
After school special
Frozen in place
Neighborly support
Nightly visits
Playtime
Working overtime
Gentle hands
Forgotten stars
Swan song
Love me dead
Kings and queens
Gravitas
Dom wanda(thinking about)
Well behaved
Once upon a time
Games
Deck the halls
Comfort
Concerned third party
Another love
Cherry waves
Wolf hybrid reader Deer hybrid wanda
Eating out
Action reaction
Keeping warm
Soft touches
Shorter works
Tongue tied
Short works 1
Short works 2
Short works 3
WANDANAT
Scream
Guiding light
Eternal flames
Watching
Wanda x Kate x reader
Doctor patient confidentiality
Kate bishop
Class president
List of sytoran works
(that i can remember) that you can look up the title for on ao3
Boudoir photography
Hell isn't that far away (marvel kinktober 2023)
Study break
Heat waves
My divine goddess
Update:
Found some reblogs of her kinktober 2023 works and one chapter of my divine goddess so far, linked below to the reblogs
