vlizznicea

live. laugh. love. lizzie.

[p1nkbnny]

OHHHHH FUCK ME MOMMY

[saudadebunny]

[cupcakegirl3]

relationships are built on devotion

wanda maximoff x reader

tw: inspection kink, mama!wanda, sickening amount of pet names, soft wanda, control, oral sex (r recieving), rimming, fingering, water control, bladder control (no actual peeing), spanking, kissing, lesbianism (ᵔᴗᵔ)

wc: 2.8k

more fics here .✦ ݁˖

“I’m home!” You cheered out, toeing off your sandals at the entry way. You were shocked to see Wanda’s car in the driveway, not expecting her home until later.

You had just gotten home from ice cream with Kate and Peter. Of course with her permission and adorning the outfit she had perfectly selected for you.

“In here bunny!”

You smiled, chasing her voice and finding her sitting in the living room. The sky had turned stormy, making the room darker than it should be for seven in the evening.

A few candles were lit, the tv still off. She clicked off her phone and threw it on the couch before grabbing onto you and pulling you in to stand between her spread legs.

“Hi baby.” She smiled, leaning up to kiss you. You met her halfway, kissing her sweetly. “Have fun?”

“Mhm.” You hummed into her lips.

“Were you good?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes mama.”

She leaned back, so you stood back up. “I’ll have to check.”

You whined, stomping your foot slightly. “Please Wans. I’m hungry and I—“

“Shhhh.” Her hands wound up on your hips, right where your purple tanktop had ridden up from your jean skirt.

“Relationships are built on trust, Wans.”

“Relationships are built on devotion.” Her eyes were so dark you couldn’t tell where her iris’s ended and her pupils started. “Look at this house. Look at the clothes on your body. Look at the money constantly flowing in to your bank account every time you want to spend some.”

Her voice was soft, but the grip on your hips had turned violent. You winced, but did your best to stay still. “I am completely and utterly devoted to you and making your life better. So why can’t you do this for me?”

“I-I’m sorry.”

Wanda’s grip softened, her head tilting to the side. “Bunny, will you strip down to your panties now?”

“Yes mama.” You whispered.

Your hands were shaking as they came up to your skirt button, undoing it easily. Wanda leaned back, her arms coming up to rest on the back of the couch. You wished the overhead lights were on so you could see every flicker of expression in her face. The only emotion you could read right now was displeasure.

Your top came off easily, leaving you standing in front of her in just your matching bra and panties. The pair Wanda had picked out for you this morning. A white pair, laced with pink and adorned with a small pink rose right at the top. The top was a balconnette, the bottoms full coverage. The panties had been uncomfortable all day, digging into your skin. But it just served as a reminder.

“Alright.” Wanda leaned back in, her gaze purely predatory in a way that made your head spin. “Now let’s check-in.”

You let out a shiver despite the warm temperature of the room. Her hand splayed over your stomach, her eyes upturned to you. “So soft baby.” She commented, her cold rings making goosebumps erupt.

Her hand traveled down, the other joining it on your hip. “These panties don’t seem messed with. You didn’t go to the bathroom did you sweetie?”

“No mama.”

“Did you drink all your water then?”

You bit your lip and let out a small whine. She just shook her head. “What happens when you don’t do what mama tells you to do?”

“I get—I get punished.”

“That’s right. Such a smart girl.” Her hands traveled up again, wrapping around your front stubly. “How much water did mama tell you to drink?”

“My whole bottle.”

“And how much did you drink?”

“Half.”

She hummed, her hands massaging the skin of your waist. Her thumbs began pressing into your lower stomach. She hummed again, before moving her hands down.

“Alright honey, you passed the first part.” She whispered, though there was a smile on her lips. “Are you ready for round two?”

“Y-yes mama.”

She spread her legs, pulling you to step towards her. She was below you, looking up at you. Yet it didn’t matter. You were completely submissive to her.

Slowly, her hands trecked up your torso, up to the bottom of your bra. Her fingertips slipped underneath, pulling the fabric up enough to reveal your nipples. Without thinking about it, your hands came up to hold the fabric still.

“Such a good girl for me. Hold it up for mama.” She commented, letting go of the fabric to run her thumbs over your nipples.

They hardened quickly under her touch. Only taking one swipe of her thumb to make it happen. “Doesn’t look like these were touched either.” She commented to herself. “Mama knows how sensitive they are, you would’ve been a soaked mess if someone had touched them.”

“Would never let someone touch me mama.”

“Oh I know darling.” She drew her thumb over the hardened nubs again, drawing out a whine from her lips. “Mama knows you’d never let someone touch them. But the world is full of dark, scary people. That’s why you need me to watch out for you right?”

You squirmed as she ran her thumbs over them again. “Right mama.”

“Alright bunny,” She grabbed the fabric from your hands, dropping it back down. Her eyes weren’t on yours, they were staring at the hardness pressed against the fabric. She ran her thumbs over again, mesmerized. She cleared her throat, blinking once before pulling her hands away. “You passed, down on your knees now.”

You nodded, doing as she said, trying to get as close to the couch as possible so she wouldn’t have to move too much. Her hand came down onto your cheek, rubbing your face with her thumb.

“It’s so hard for mama to stay mad at her baby.” She sighed. “You’re just so sweet and so pretty. I could just eat you up.”

You whined under her praise, looking up at her with big eyes that were full of devotion. Her hand moved, her thumb coming to play with your lips, she pulled the chapstick that was lining your lips off with her thumb, pulling her hand away to suck it into her mouth, she pulled it out with a wet pop, smiling as she did so.

“Even used the chapstick I sent with you.”

“I did mama.”

“Sweet girl.

She dragged her now wet thumb across your lips. You were careful to stay still. Last time you had darted a tongue out when she had been in a particularly bad mood and she didn’t let you finish for days.

Soon she popped her thumb into your mouth, pulling out your tongue easily. She ran her thumb up and down it, careful not to go in too far. She pulled her thumb out, pulling it into her mouth again.

“What flavor ice cream did you get, bunny?” Wanda asked once she had sucked your slavia off.

“Strawberry cheesecake.” You replied, returning your tongue to its previous position right after.

She hummed before smiling. “Good girl. That’s exactly what I tasted.”

You beamed under her praise, pulling your tongue back into your mouth. Wanda reached over you, grabbing your water bottle from where it laid on the table. “We’re gonna finish your water right here okay baby.”

It wasn’t a question, you whined nonetheless. You were horrible with drinking water and you were already so worked up from her inspection that you were feeling impatient.

Wanda rolled her eyes, kicking your thighs apart roughly. “Don’t be like that. Not after all that praise I just gave you.

“S-sorry mama.”

“Alright, now open your mouth.”

Even in your protest, you still did directly as she said. You tipped your head back a little to make it easier for the water to flow. She poured until your moth was full, pulling the bottle away enough to stop the flow. “Not yet.”

She leaned over you, her lips forming a pout only for a line of spit to dribble out. It hit the water in your mouth and then she nodded. You swallowed, doing your best to not let anything drop. You felt a little on the corners of your mouth.

She repeated it again and again until the bottle was empty, garnishing each mouthful with some of her spit, just claiming you more and more. Once you swallowed the last of it, she set two fingers into your mouth, running it along. Drool pooled at the corners of your mouth, threatening to quickly spill over.

“See honey,” Wanda cooed, pushing her fingers in and out at a slow pace. “See how much more drooly you are? How much easier it is to do this? Mama doesn’t make rules just for fun, she makes them so you’re better.”

You nodded, drool spilling out now. You were trying to regain some composure but you were threatening to spill over at any second. She pushed her fingers all the way in until you were gagging.

She pulled out, her spit covered fingers resting on your chin. “Good job bunny.” She kissed your forehead. “Such a good girl for me, can you stand up for mama now?”

You nodded, helpless to obey anything she would command. Her hands returned to your waist, her thumbs rubbing against the skin right under your belly button. Her thumbs pushed in, making your jolt. She pressed down on your bladder just enough for you to feel it. You pressed your thighs together to try and stop the feeling but it did little to help.

“Alright bunny, time for the last inspection.”

“But mama I have to go—“

“Bunny.”

You whined but fell back onto your knees. You cried out as you turned around, seeing that the coffee table would only press on your bladder more. She pressed you down, hurrying you along. You were splayed out on the coffee table now, front facing down and knees digging into the hard floor, leaving your ass in the air for her mercy.

“Oh bunny.” She cooed, pressing a thumb over the fabric of your panties. “You’re soaked.” You whined as she rubbed you, touching you gently so it would never be enough to fully satisfy you. “Who got you worked up like this?”

“Y-you did—you did mama.”

“Good girl.”

Her thumb pulled away, her hands grabbing at the top of your panties. You whined, only for her to pull up.

You cried out, feeling the fabric pull into your folds. She shushed you, one of her hands holding your panties up, the other pressing down on your lower back.

“Stop squirming, baby. Stay still for me.”

“I-I’m-‘m sorry!”

“Take your punishment like a good girl.”

You whined as she pulled your panties up more. It was bordering on painful but it was so tight on your clit you couldn’t help but grind your hips.

As soon as you were done, her hand came down swiftly on the sensitive skin of your ass. You cried out, which only meant another smack to your other cheek.

“What did I just tell you?”

“T-to stay st-till mama.”

“Why did you start grinding like a whore?”

“Felt good, mama.”

“Ah so your panties we’re rubbing against you all nice?”

“Y-yeah mama.”

Her fingers relaxed, letting the fabric fall back in place. Her hands came down to grab your ass, pulling you apart. She let your cheeks bounce back into place only to lay a smack to each cheek once they had.

“Oh sweet girl…you’re soaked for me. This inspection won’t be easy.”

“Please mama.” You whined, fingers gripping the edge of the table. “‘m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For not listening.”

“Mama might forgive you if you take your punishment like a good girl.”

Her fingers grabbed at the elastic band of your panties, pulling it off to let it snap against your skin. You couldn’t help but moan, arching your back a little bit.

Her strong hands pressed down on your lower back, making sure that your navel stayed pressed down. You cried out, doing everything to keep yourself from wetting your panties.

Finally, her fingers pulled your panties down your legs, the wetness completely covering you making your shiver.

She left the panties pooled at your thighs, just enough for her to see you fully. Unlike the rest of it, she got right to work. Her hands pulled you apart, leaving you completely bare to you. “Hands, bunny.”

You moved your hands to hold yourself open, both holes exposed to her. “Do you feel how wet you are?”

“Yeah mama.”

“Were you this wet when you were out with your friends?” 

“N-no mama. Only for you. I promise—mama please—“

“Such a sweet girl.” 

An obscene moan left your mouth as her tongue licked all of you. From your clit all the way up to your puckered hole. She hummed, “Taste so sweet too baby. So good for mama.” 

“Please mama—I’ll be good—i’ll—“

“Shhhhh darling. Let mama finish.” 

Her hands pried you apart further, making your hole clench around nothing. “So tight for me. No one touched you baby.” 

“N-no—no one mama.” 

She spit right above your folds, letting it run down. Her thumb began circling your hole, teasing it as she did so. “So greedy for me baby.” 

Her thumb went down, your entire body jolting as she rubbed your sensitive clit. You cried, tears of desperation threatening to fall from your eyes. The feeling of needing to pee was only amplifying your sensitivity. Her touch moved after an instant, rubbing your folds without touching you where you truly needed it. 

“So sloppy.” She commented, which only made you whine. Her thumb was replaced by two of her fingers, circling your folds at a snails pace. 

She slotted her hands up, dragging over your hole and circling that too. You cried out, your thighs starting to shake with the will it took you to keep the rest of your body still and not wet yourself. 

Her fingers went up, pressing onto your asshole but not inside before falling back down. Then one finger was pressing inside of you. 

You moaned, unafraid of being loud. “So tight for me bunny.” She pulled her finger out, not pushing it back in like you were hoping. A tear sprang free from your eye, unable to hold them in anymore. 

She dragged her finger back through your slick, before pushing it into your asshole. “Sucking me right in honey, like you were made for this.” 

“Mama…” You whined. “Please…”

She shushed you once again, not hearing your pleas. Just dragging her finger out. Her hands went on top of yours, pulling your cheeks further apart. 

She licked your asshole, pulling more tears out of you. It felt good, of course it felt amazing. But you both knew it wasn’t enough. She licked again, pushing the tip of her tongue past the rim. 

The urge to pee was getting harder to ignore, but so was your neglected pussy. “Mama please—please I’ve been good—I need to—“ 

She didn’t listen, just kept licking and sucking your hole, completely ignoring where you needed her most. 

Tears fell freely from your eyes, your entire body was shaking. You tried to clamp your legs together but her feet were keeping your knees in place. 

She pulled away, one of her hands coming down to circle your hole. “You cum from this or you don’t cum. It’s up to you. You have a minute.” 

“No mama please, you know I can’t.” 

Her fingers came down, slapping your hole directly with practiced precision. “One minute.” 

She dove back in, doubling her efforts but it was in vain. You did everything you could, even grinding back onto her face. You were painfully on the edge, only one touch to your clit and you would be cumming. 

You sobbed as she pulled away, frustrated noises leaving your lips as Wanda pulled your hands away. You felt the cloth of your underwear being pulled back up, signalling the end of her attention.

She pulled you up by your hair, pulling you to sit on her lap. You were crying and shaking, still so mad at her for not letting you finish but still tucking your head into her neck. 

“Mama please—“

“Not my fault you didn’t listen to me.” 

You whined, “I’m so sorry mama I’ll never do it again. I promise.” 

“Oh I know honey, but that’s not good enough. You gotta know your place.” 

A pitiful huff left your lips but she stroked your back gently. “What happened to my good bunny? Is mama gonna have to make you hold it in longer?”

“N-no mama. No I-I swear—please don’t—I really have to go.” 

“You wanna go take a shower then? We can order some take out later.” 

You nodded, your hands winding around her head to play with her hair, rolling the red roots in your hand. She kissed the side of your head before picking you up and carrying you off. 

[loveyladyfingers07]

[wandasaura]

thinking about dom!wanda with a size kink fucking you with an enchanted red strap-on. she has you on your back, pillow under your hips. your hands are bound together away from your body, red wisps of magic pinning them to the sheets.

“fuck, you’re so small.” she’d groan as she slammed her hips into you with the strap-on she’d summoned up.

she’d press herself into you after you came. to the hilt. unforgivingly. rocking back and forth slowly. just enough to see the bulge of her cock through your belly. she’d lose it after that.

thinking about dom!wanda with an enchanted strap that glows when she cums. she’d stay deep inside of you. she’d watch how you’re so small, and her cock is so big, that the illumination of her orgasm shines through your belly.

she’d press her hand on it, “i’m in your belly, sweet girl.” she’d say as she takes no mercy on you.

[p1nkbnny]

thinking bout waking up in the morning pressed against mommy!wanda’s chest and feeling her boobs against your face. you start drowsily suckling on her nipple through the fabric of her shirt, too tired to even think about pulling it up - just needing the oral stimulation.

she starts to feel a slight pressure on her nipples and wakes slowly. she smiles when she sees you suckling contentedly and pulls her top down for you “there you go, bunny.”

after a few minutes wanda tells you to look up at her, she wants to see her pretty girl. but you whine and shake your head at her words, too sleepy to do anything but suck.

then before you can even form a next thought you suddenly feel a sharp sting on your cheek as she brings her hand to your face, giving it a firm slap. “look at me, little girl.”

you whimper, a stream of adrenaline fully waking you up - your tear ducts already full and your cheek throbbing as your eyelids flutter open. this is so unlike your seemingly sweet mommy, and it catches you off guard.

“what did we talk about, sweetheart?…” she coos, lifting your trembling face towards her, stroking the crimson stain on your skin. she catches one of your tears before it falls and kisses her finger afterwards.

“you’ve got to listen to mommy. isn’t that right, baby?”

[wandasveil]

watching l&d and can’t stop thinking about southernwanda…

wanda realized the feeling of recognition before thinking it was anything else. because she wasn’t supposed to notice you—especially not in the way that she did.

noticing from across the room the way your legs looked, perfectly crossed over, your skirt leaving little to her imagination.

every sunday, she sits in the pew trying to focus. instead—she’s remembering you. your smile, the scent of your perfume, the way your hand had brushed hers earlier. the sound of your shallow breaths in her ear that night she acted on her feelings, and kissed you.

[wandaslovey]

thinking about mommy wanda forcing you to take her big strap.

with the tip pressed up against your opening, you squirm as she begins pushing inside.

“mommy,” you cry, your brows knitted together.

she’s above you, one hand keeping your thighs spread apart while the other guides her cock inside you.

“shhh, baby.” wanda soothes, her hand giving your thigh an affectionate squeeze.

“it’s too big!” you squeak, your hands reaching to clamber against her hips.

“ohh, you can take it, baby. you can take it.” she continues pushing the tip in until the first inch disappears inside you.

you whine, unable to stay still as you writhe on her faux cock.

“look at you.” she purrs. her eyes are fixated on the way your pussy stretches around her length. you’re so tight that it borders on painful. the generous amount of lube she applied before was the only thing assisting in fitting it inside you.

“halfway there.”

“you’re talking it so well, milaya.”

tears prick in your eyes, which eventually roll down your cheeks as she continues pushing more length inside you.

“look at me. let me see your pretty face when you cry.”

when she finally bottoms out inside of you—all 9 inches—you’re sobbing. she’s slow as she pulls out and then pushes back in. you can feel every inch as she fucks you gently while your walls adjust to her strap.

“you were made for this.”

“mommy’s little toy.”

[p1nkbnny]

18+ asking mommy! wanda to suck your tits dry humping involved

you’ve had your lips wrapped around her nipples for quite some time now, just gently suckling. it’s become a thing you do with her almost every night - helps you relax and wind down after a long day of big thoughts.

and you think it must feel so good because every time your lips attach to her sensitive buds she sighs, moaning softly as she covers your forehead with kisses.

your brows pucker and you whimper inaudibly at the noises she makes. she looks so happy and warm and tingly. you want to feel good too :(

you reluctantly take your mouth off of her wet nipple and peer up at her, lashes fluttering. “mommy?”

she makes a little sound at the loss of contact, eyebrows pinched. her features soften when she sees the look on her little girl’s face. “what is it, baby?”

your eyes are fixed on her boobs, the task of asking her feels daunting to the point you can’t even look at her face. “c-can you read my mind?”

she faintly smiles, smoothing her fingers over your hairline. “use your big girl words, sweetheart.”

“i can’t.” you pout, your hand twisting in her half worn shirt. you get so shy asking for what you want, even though you know she’ll most likely say yes.

“cmon, bunny. tell mommy what you need.” she assumes you want her to play with your pussy because one of your hands is pressed on your inner thigh. she doesn’t know the reason your so achy is because you’re thinking about her tongue swirling around your nipples.

“c-can you do it to me?” you mutter, your skin turning pink.

she tilts your face up towards her gaze, tracing your temple “do what, baby?”

“what i was doing…” your cheeks are full blown red now, your pupils jittering as you avoid her gaze.

“you want mommy to suck on your boobs, hm?” she wears a half smile on her tinted lips, loving the reaction her mere presence has on you.

you sigh softly “uh huh…please.”

she kisses your forehead once more before gently tracing your tank top, pulling the strap down with light touches. her hands reach around the back of your bra and she removes the clasp, rubbing your back in circular motions. “such a good girl for asking mommy so nicely.” she discards your bra, laying it on the sheets next to her for later.

“ohhh, what a pretty little girl,” she murmurs, squeezing your plump flesh with her warm fingers.

you let out a shaky breath when her lips connect with your right nipple. she hums around it, feeling it harden in her mouth.

you whimper when she sucks a little harder, her red hair lightly scratching your skin. both of her hands cup your boobs upwards, squeezing and massaging the area as her tongue licks over your nipple, sending goosebumps all over your skin. “ohh - mommy.”

she moves over to your left boob, attacking your skin, her mouth wrapped around as much as she can fit in, lips suctioning on and off in little plops.

then she sinks her teeth in, nibbling and gazing up at you while your body wriggles. her own exposed nipples rub against your stomach and your hands find her hair, almost methodically playing with each strand, trying to ground yourself as the ecstasy swallows you whole.

wanda’s lips widen around your skin, seeing you so worked up over this is vertigo-inducing. she adores how sensitive you can be. “mmh, you like that, puppy?”

“…y-yes, mommy.” you mewl, shyly smiling back down at her. you gasp softly when she nibbles harder and you rock your hips up, grinding on nothing.

she coos, pushing her leg forward so you have something to let out your pent up energy on.

you hump her thigh happily, dragging your soaked pussy against the fabric of her pants. she shifts her knee every so often, making your clit pulse as your brain tries to override the cataclysmic pleasure hacking your system.

“tell mommy how good it feels, baby,” she whispers loudly, rubbing circles around your hipbones.

“f-feels s’good, mommy,” you moan, clutching on to her abdomen, signaling for her to pull you closer.

she wraps her hand around youu, pulling as close as she can so that she can still mouth at your boobs. she squeezes your waist, patting it with three taps as if permission for you to come undone.

and you don’t really have a choice. the pressure on your clit bubbles into soft mush as you let go, your legs shaking when you weakly ride out the last few motions you have left in you.

she swirls her tongue around your nipples as you come down, pecking the skin all around it. “good girl…that’s it.”

you twitch when she pulls her leg back, and she squeezes your flesh softly before pulling your tank top back up and laying beside you, stroking your side.

you press your face into her bare chest, humming contentedly as you nuzzle further into her. she pets your hair in long strokes as you breathe lazily on her tits.

your mouth begins to find it’s way back to her nipple and she exhales slowly as you start suckling.

“that’s it, sweetheart. let mommy have her turn again.”

a/n - idk why but i feel like the concept of things sound sm freakier in my head compared to when i write them

[leesromanova]

sighhhhh

[sapphicsleepywriter]

you could be my silver spring

ᥫ᭡southern!wanda maximoff x female reader

ᥫ᭡summary: Wanda’s never been tempted by a married woman before, but there’s a first time for everything.

ᥫ᭡content: SMUT ‼️; slowburn?; petnames; an extramarital affair; reader’s spouse’s gender is unspecified; yearning; both romantic & sexual tension; drinking/mild inebriation; mild angst + comfort; kitchen sex; cunnilingus (reader receiving); fingering (wanda receiving); grinding; MEN AND MINORS DNI; 7k words

ᥫ᭡a/n: my hand slipped. i did NOT mean to make this 7k words, but oh well. you’re gonna need your tea for this one 👀 enjoy! <3

ᥫ᭡masterlist

Wanda wasn’t sure what it was about you that she found so captivating. Your beauty or your charming smile, maybe. God knew she loved those dimples. Maybe it was your contagious laugh, or your energy as a whole. But all she knew was that whenever you were near, she couldn’t resist ogling. Couldn’t resist turning her head at the sound of your voice.

And yes, Wanda felt downright insane about her little crush. You were a married woman, after all. Happily, even. Because Wanda could admit that to herself. You and your spouse seemed happy from the outside looking in. It wasn’t like there were signs that a divorce was in the cards. But her eyes from wandering, or her thoughts for that matter.

She knew was it boiled down to. Or at least she knew what she’d convinced herself of. You were simply a beautiful woman. A beautiful woman whom she could appreciate the presence of. And she’d wanted to be your friend. That’s why she always gravitated toward you the way that she did. In this town, there were a startling lack of genuine female friendships. Everyone seemed to always be making catty comments about everyone else, and Wanda never knew who she could trust.

But you? You were like that first gulp of water after a marathon. A pie cooling on the windowsill after a long day. You were a breath of fresh air, and by proxy, nothing but danger.

“Taking a breather, huh?” Your voice makes Wanda startle, and it’s only then that she realizes she’s been lost in thought at her kitchen island for the last ten minutes. After saying she’d only be in here to get more snacks for everyone.

There was a baseball game on today, and Wanda, who loved to host, had agreed to throw a party for the occasion; complete with snacks, beers, and non-alcoholic drinks for people like herself who knew they’d lose their heads if alcohol touched their lips. She still did love a good martini every now and again though.

Wanda turns to face you, and is immediately thrown by your outfit. She hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at you before now. But now, she was drinking it all in—the red bandana-patterned crop top that stopped right above your belly button, paired with light-washed denim shorts and sandals that matched the top. A baseball cap sits on your head, masking those pretty eyes in shadow. Wanda can’t place the fragrance you’re wearing, but it smells expensive and divine.

You look at her expectantly and Wanda finally manages to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “What? Oh, sorry. Hon, my mind is somewhere else entirely today. Yes, I was gonna get more snacks for our little ragtag bunch, but then I got distracted, and my mind started runnin’, and…you know how it is,”

What she didn’t say was ‘you know how it is when you have an inappropriate crush on a married friend’

“Well hey,” you scoop up two bowls of snacks that Wanda had just refilled. “Two pairs of hands are better than one, right? Why don’t I help,”

Wanda would’ve liked, needed just a few more extra seconds to stay inside her head, but she disregards it, smiling her thanks at you, and grabbing as many cold beers as she could hold in two hands. She follows you out of the kitchen and back into the living room just as a shout goes over the room.

Wanda sets down the drinks and you the snacks, just as your spouse cheers. “You should’ve seen it, baby! A home run! Didn’t I tell you our team is on a winning streak this season?”

You giggle, dropping a kiss on the crown of your spouse’s head. “That, you did,”

Wanda quickly turns away, but not before a spiteful demon grabs hold of her heart, upends it and shakes out its contents. Wanda shouldn’t have been feeling this way. She shouldn’t have been holding a grudge over the affection you and your spouse clearly held for each other. She was happy for you. She knew deep down a part of her was genuinely happy for the two of you. Maybe she was just put off because, well, she herself had never been married.

Not that it was at the top of her list of priorities at the moment. She actually quite liked living alone. But sometimes, it would be nice to have a better half, right? Someone to bounce ideas off of. A safe person to come home to after a long day. If that was what your spouse was to you, did Wanda have any right to keep pining?

Wanda didn’t really care about baseball, so while everyone else was enthralled in the game, she only pretended to follow what was going on. She mainly just sipped on mocktails and pretended she wasn’t staring at you; pretended she wasn’t counting up every single time your eyes met hers and every single time you shot her a smile.

Later that evening, as the party wraps up, Wanda finds herself stood at the door chatting with you and another neighbor from four houses down who, for the life of her, Wanda could never remember the poor girl’s name. Dana? Dahlia? Delilah? At this point, it would be rude to ask, so Wanda had just simply fallen on her southern crutch and resorted to calling the girl darlin’ to get around it.

Somehow, the conversation had steered to that new fancy boutique named Quinlan’s that just opened up outside of town.

“Oh, you should go!” Dana-Dahlia-Delilah is telling you, eyes lit with excitement. “They’ve got everything and it’s sooo spacious! It doesn’t look like it’ll be from the outside, but it’s actually much bigger than I thought it would be. And reasonably priced! I got my good jeans from there a couple weeks ago,”

“I’ve been meaning to check it out. I want to so badly,” you sigh. “But my car is on the fritz at the moment, and I just haven’t had the time. My partner actually promised they’d take me, but then they keep pushing it back because things will come up at work and…you know how these things go,” you shrug, dejected, and something squeezes in Wanda’s chest.

“I’ve had to keep moving my schedule around,” you continue. “My partner and I actually talked about going together, but…”

Wanda knows she should probably leave it alone, but she can’t. And before she can even think it through, she’s blurting out, “I can take you!”

You glance up at Wanda, eyes wide. “Oh, Wanda, no. It’s forty-five minutes outside of town. I can’t ask you to do that—“

“Nonsense,” Wanda waves her hand. “I don’t mind one bit. Plus, I’d been meaning to get my tail out there to go see what Quinlan’s has too.”

Your eyes are still wide, vulnerable, like maybe you want to try to talk Wanda out of it again. To tell her that this is too kind and you don’t want to inconvenience her. But Wanda pulls the thought right out of your head and addresses it.

“I don’t mind, y/n, really,” she says, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“You promise? I’m not gonna like, owe you gas money or anything?” you ask.

Wanda chuckles. “No, honey, you won’t owe me a thing. Except maybe a little bit of quality time. We can make a whole day out of it. How does next weekend work for you?”

A broad smile replaces the worried look from before. “Next Saturday is great. 2 o’clock?”

“2 o’clock,” Wanda agrees.

***

The night before the trip to Quinlan’s, Wanda barely catches a wink of sleep. Which is why she’s already halfway through her third coffee by the time she pulls up outside your house on Saturday morning. But then, she pauses. She didn’t know what was proper etiquette here. Should she text you? Give the horn a quick honk? Meet you at the door? She doesn’t have time to make a decision for herself before you come storming out of your house, a to-go thermos in your hand.

Wanda unlocks the doors once you’re close enough and you wordlessly climb into her passenger seat. Again, Wanda isn’t sure what to do here. But she can’t very well drive off until she knows you’re okay.

“Is everything alright?” she asks tentatively.

You sigh, depositing your thermos in one of Wanda’s cup holders and running a hand through your hair. You looked pretty today. It was warm outside today and you’d chosen a floral sundress, one of the top buttons undone. Wanda pointedly looks at your face, so she won’t be tempted to look at your clavicle instead.

“Sorry, just…we got into an argument this morning, my partner and I,” you say.

Wanda’s stomach lurches. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay, really,” you drop your head back against the headrest. “We’ve just been having more spats recently. And always about their job. It’s like they’re always cancelling on me to make room for work, but never putting off work to make room for me, you know? But I dunno, maybe I just sound bratty,”

“Not at all,” Wanda disagrees. “If anything, you sound frustrated. Which it sounds like you have the right to be,”

You smile sadly. “I am frustrated. I’ve been looking forward to going to the lake for weeks, and now that we’re less than a week away from when we were supposed to go, my partner says they can’t do that weekend because they’ve got a business trip. Now I’ll have to see if I can get the deposit back that I already put towards the Airbnb,”

Wanda chews her lip in thought. Then: “Maybe you don’t.”

“Hm?” You glance over at her.

“Why waste a lake getaway?” Wanda asks. “I’d be happy to go with you, and you know, I’m sure the little darlin’ from four doors down would like to go too. We could make it a girls’ trip,” Wanda wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, or she was simply digging herself a deeper hole. But you seem enchanted by the idea, sitting up straighter in the passenger seat now.

“You know what? You’re right! Why should I have to sit home and have no fun just because my spouse is going to Nevada for a few days? Wanda, you’re a genius! I’ll text Denise and ask her about it when we get back to town this evening,”

So Denise was her name. Wanda would have to remember that for next time. Though, she feared she’d be sticking to darlin’.

You’re noticeably happier, brighter when Wanda pulls away from your house and gets on the road. There’s a Shania Twain song playing on a low volume through the car speakers, but it can barely be heard over the easy flow of conversation. You and Wanda discuss everything that comes to mind. Work, past parties, plans for the upcoming lake trip. There’s never a lull, never an awkward silence, and Wanda can’t get over how nice it feels to just…talk to someone like this. And she definitely ignores the little zing that goes up her spine when she realizes that it’s you she’s alone with.

About thirty minutes into the car ride, the rain starts to hit, and Wanda seems to drive right into it. What starts as a small drizzle quickly graduates, fat drops beginning to pound against Wanda’s SUV. It doesn’t let up, even as Wanda pulls into the parking lot of Quinlan’s fifteen minutes later.

You wait out the rain as long as you can, and when the downpour diminishes to a soft pelt, you and Wanda sprint into the boutique.

“Oh, you poor things,” A blonde woman greets the two of you as you step into the boutique. Her southern drawl might even be deeper than Wanda’s. “Let me grab you some towels so you can dry off,”

You and Wanda stand in the foyer, exchanging shy smiles while shivering off the effects of the rain. While waiting for the associate to return, Wanda takes in her surroundings. The place is cozy, all powder pink walls and floral carpeting. There’s a faint apricot smell that permeates the entire boutique, and the central heating is a godsend, warming Wanda from head to toe.

After drying off to the best of your ability with the towels provided by the associate, Wanda feels obligated to buy some clothes; partly as a courtesy, but also just to have something drier to wear. She also does her due diligence to convince you that every item you pick up would look great in you, despite your fuss that you couldn’t pull the clothes off.

“Don’t even give me that!” Wanda says, when you say the same spiel about a beautiful peach-colored top that you’d just placed back on the rack. “Y/n, that would look perfect on you! You’re not even gonna try it on?”

You shrug, fingering the price tag on the shirt. “I wouldn’t have anywhere to wear it,”

Wanda raises a brow. “What about the lake trip we were talking about earlier?”

Your eyes suddenly seem to brighten, like you’d just remembered the altered plans you and Wanda had made. With a renewed spark in your eyes, you pluck the top right back off the shelf and make a break for one of the curtained fitting rooms. Wanda smiles, trailing behind.

“Well? What’s the verdict?” Wanda asks five minutes later, stood outside your curtain.

“Uhhh…I dunno,” your uncertain voice replies. “Feels like my entire bakery is on display in this shirt. Don’t even need a push-up bra,”

Wanda has to snort at that. “Well then, it’s a good thing I’m not a prude, now isn’t it? Come on out, I wanna see!”

The velvet curtain shifts and you step out into the walkway. And the second you do, Wanda’s breath seems to get punched out of her lungs.

The tank top is actually closer to a pastel pink than it is to peach, but god, does it look good on you. That’s the only thought in Wanda’s head. Every other thought has vacated the premises. You were right. The cups of the top did give you that push-up effect, though Wanda would’ve liked to point out that you were already blessed without it. There’s a tied lace in the front, and the tank top stops at your abdomen, which means that all that skin above your navel is on tantalizing display. And Wanda can’t stop looking.

“Well,” she begins, when she finally locates her voice and puts her eyeballs back in her head. “I think you look divine in that, but it matters more what you think,” she indicates the mirror and you turn to face yourself.

You quirk your lips to the side, turning to the left and then the right. Then, you smile, seemingly having made up your mind. Your turn that smile on Wanda, and it’s so dazzlingly bright, it makes her blush. “I love it. It’s definitely coming home with me!”

“That’s the spirit! Now get back in there. I feel like we’re overstaying our welcome,” That much wasn’t necessarily true. Wanda had looked up the boutique’s hours before the drive. They were open every day except Sunday, though their hours were sparse—only open between 10 AM and 5 PM six days a week. It had been awhile since Wanda looked at her phone, but she knew it couldn’t be any later than noon or one by now. The two of you still had hours. Maybe it was just that the combination of the central heating and the way you were making her feel, had Wanda feeling like she needed to flee.

Another couple minutes goes by and you haven’t re-emerged. But before Wanda can ask you if everything is alright, you speak up. “Um…Wanda?”

“Yeah?” she answers cautiously.

“I think I’m stuck.”

“What? Honey, what are you stuck on?” Wanda asks, her hand automatically going to the curtain. But she wouldn’t draw it back before she got the okay to do so.

“No, I mean the top is stuck. On me. I can’t get it off,” you reply. “Can you come help? Please? I feel ridiculous,”

Without another word, Wanda pushes the curtain aside, sliding it back into place behind her. “Oh honey,” she coos.

There you stood, arms outstretched awkwardly, perpendicular at your sides with the top halfway over your head.

“The tie in the front was easy, but there’s also a weird strappy situation in the back that I almost couldn’t figure out the first time,” you explain. “I thought I’d be able to just yank it over my head, but obviously not.”

Wanda clicks her tongue. “Okay, well hold still,” She reaches for the knot at your back, her fingers working carefully against the stubborn fabric. She works quickly to free you from the satin prison you’re in, trying not to think about the enclosed space or the fact that she can smell your perfume—that same wholly addicting fragrance you’d been wearing the night of the watch party.

“Okay, I think I’ve loosened it enough. Lift your arms,” Wanda instructs.

When you do, Wanda grips the hem and carefully lifts it upward. Wanda can hear your cry of relief as the material clears your face. And then, the fabric hangs loose in Wanda’s hand as she looks up at you. Your eyes lock for one heart-stopping moment. And yet again, Wanda’s eyes betray her. Stood in nothing but a lacy white bra and your jeans, you’re a temptation on two legs. And something hot flares in Wanda’s gut.

You don’t even try to cover yourself, to shy away from Wanda’s eye contact. In fact, you step closer. The air is suddenly thick. Charged. Want hums in Wanda’s veins. Desire pools in her gut. It’s the same desire she’d been trying to tamper down for weeks now. And for one reckless moment, Wanda considers closing the distance; letting her hand cup the hairs at the nape of your neck to pull you in for a slow, sweet kiss. A kiss that would start slow, but would escalate the moment Wanda heard that sweet sigh pass your lips. She imagined backing you against the mirror, imagined your hands fisting in her sweatshirt as she tasted your mouth—

And that’s what finally jerks her back to the present moment. What the hell was her problem? You were a married woman. Married. Married, married, married. As in off the market. Why couldn’t she ever get that through her thick skull?

She takes a step back so quickly, she bumps into the same mirror she’d just fantasized about pushing you up against. She clears her throat before speaking again. “I should…let you get decent. I’ll be just out in the waiting area,”

“Right. Yeah,” you say. Wanda knows she’s not insane in noticing the breathlessness in your voice. It makes her feel better about her own current state of fluster. And also altogether confused. What were you thinking right now? She wished she could see into your mind.

“Right.” Wanda parrots, reaching behind her to fumble with the curtain. “So…I’ll be just out here,” she winds up getting tangled up in the curtain in her effort to leave, but once she makes it to the other side of it (not without you giggling at her first), she places a hand over her racing heart.

Get it together, Wanda. She thinks to herself. You are absolutely playing with fire. You will absolutely get burned. Only that’s what Wanda was afraid of. That she’d like that burn.

***

The weekend of the lake getaway doesn’t go quite the way Wanda expects.

For one thing, there’s a slight change of plans. Denise apparently can’t make it. Something about having to fly out last minute to see a sick relative. Which was fine by Wanda. But that also meant that now it would just be the two of you. At an Airbnb by a lake two hours away from home. Alone together.

“I hope that’s okay,” you’d said earnestly when breaking the news about Denise’s cancellation.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course. Totally fine. It’ll be just as much fun, just the two of us,” Wanda had replied breezily, paying no mind to the roaring in her ears or the spin cycle state of her stomach.

Now Wanda watches from the curb as you walk out of your house carrying what looks like a week’s worth of gear. And your smile only brightens when you catch Wanda staring.

“Are you prepared for a lake getaway or the end of the world?” Wanda quips as she opens up her trunk to help you stow all your things inside.

You smile. “Most of it is essentials. But you know how it is packing for a trip, even if it’s just a few days. You never know if you’re gonna need jumper cables or a tire iron or a rhinestone cowgirl hat,”

“Okay, while I definitely don’t think we’ll need jumper cables or a tire iron, I do hope you’re not kiddin’ around about the cowgirl hat,”

You give her an incredulous look. “You’d wear a rhinestone cowgirl hat?”

Wanda looks offended. “Well, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I dunno!” You chuckle. “You just seem so…put together!”

“Oh, what? A put-together woman can’t also enjoy bedazzled hats?” She waves her hand dismissively. “Well, I was plannin’ on being a little bad this weekend and having some alcohol. Get me enough of it and I’d probably live in your little cowgirl hat,”

“Oh, I’m gonna hold you to that,” you say. “It’s about time I see you let loose,”

It’s about time I see you let loose. Those words are spoken innocently, but they still make Wanda’s body hum. Because she would. Oh, she absolutely would like to let loose for you.

It’s been a full week since the fitting room incident at Quinlan’s, and neither of you have brought it up. Maybe you were intent to keep it that way, and Wanda would have to be too. It would be for the best. Something had to pacify her. To reign in her horny mind, which seemed to only be getting hornier by the day. She’d thought about packing a vibrator, getting herself off at least so she could curb that want. But well, she wasn’t sure just how big the Airbnb was. How much privacy she’d have.

As it turned out, though, Wanda didn’t even have to worry about that. As she pulled up to the Airbnb that you’d rented, it looked big enough for at least five people to live there comfortably and never run into each other.

“The first place we rented was actually smaller,” you say. “Since it was originally just supposed to house me and my partner,” Wanda bristles at this, but tries not to show it. “But then when you had that brilliant girls’ trip idea, I upgraded. This one, I think, has three bedrooms. Obviously we’ll only need two of them though, since Denise isn’t here,”

“Could probably use that third bedroom to store all of your life’s belongings,” Wanda quips.

“Oh, shut up!” You laugh, squeezing Wanda’s shoulder before climbing out of the passenger seat. Her skin is warm where you touched her.

Inside, the place smells faintly of pine-scented cleaner and honeysuckle. Sunlight spills across the floor in golden strips. You seem to be in a rush to get down to the lake, so Wanda doesn’t bother unpacking her things. She simply changes into a bikini and meets you downstairs. Then, the two of you pile into her car and drive down to the docks.

Two hours later, Wanda can’t stop smiling. Maybe because she’s two hard ciders in. Maybe because she’d forgotten how much of a hard reset just being in water was for her. Maybe it was the way you looked in your bikini. No, scratch that, it was definitely the way you looked in that bikini. Like a beautiful mango, good enough to eat. And Wanda says just that, or slurs slightly, more like, “You look like a mango,”

“A mango?” You’d laughed.

“Yes,” Wanda had replied. “A big beautiful mango,” and you’d laughed again. That was becoming Wanda’s favorite sound. Or maybe it already was.

Eventually, the two of you retired to the dock. You sit side by side, glass bottles sweating beside you as you watch the setting sun in silence. Wanda basks in it, the quiet. And you’re the first one to speak.

“I think this is the most relaxed I’ve been in a long time.”

Wanda glances up at you. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You pick up your bottle, running your fingernails around the lip of it. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” Wanda answers immediately. “You can tell me anything,”

“My marriage…it hasn’t been great lately,” you admit.

Wanda stills. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting to hear, but it certainly wasn’t that. Your gaze remains trained on the gleaming water in front of you. “That’s why I was so excited about this trip,” you continue. “A break, even if just for a weekend,”

Wanda swallows, her chest suddenly tight. She’d blame that on the alcohol currently circulating her bloodstream.

You exhale softly. “It’s just been...sort of strained for a while, you know? We don’t really talk much anymore unless we have to. Sometimes, I even sleep in our guest room just to…avoid all of it.”

Wanda’s hand tightens around her own bottle. “But at the watch party, you two seemed—“

You let out a small, humorless breath. “Happy and content?”

Wanda nods once. You finally look at her, and there’s something in your expression now that wasn’t there before. “I know,” you say. “We’ve gotten really good at faking it.” Then, you lean back on your hands, looking out at the lake again. “And honestly, I don’t think they were ever gonna give me this trip. I think something was always gonna come up. Because when it’s just us…” you pause, then glance up at Wanda again, softer now. “We’re just awkward. Quiet. And not in a cute way, like shy teenagers who like each other but neither know how to make the first move. No, it’s like we don’t know what to do with each other. How to act around each other.”

You exhale heavily, as if expelling those negative thoughts, eyes closed. Then, you reopen them, a small smile crossing your face as you turn to look at Wanda again. “But with you, I never feel like I have to fill the silence. I’m just comfortable. Just…being. You know?”

Wanda doesn’t respond immediately, which gives you time to try to deflect. “God, sorry,” you try to laugh it off with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Remind me to never again drink more than half a bottle of hard cider—“

“Hey.” Wanda’s hand lands on your knee, bringing an abrupt stop to whatever self-deprecating comment was ready on your lips. You look from Wanda’s hand to her.

“You don’t have to downplay it, baby love,” Wanda says gently. “I know exactly what you mean. Trust me, I get it. I mean, not the marriage bit, because you know I’m not married, but…you’ve been a great friend to me. One of the truest ones I have right now, in fact.”

You study Wanda’s face. She’s not sure what you’re looking for—a wrinkle? A sign that she’s being dishonest? But then a grin splits your face and you place your hand on top of Wanda’s, your skin warm against hers.

“You’re one of my truest friends too, Wanda,” you say softly. “I’m so glad I have you,”

Wanda’s hand shifts slightly beneath yours, which seems to prompt you to run your thumb over her knuckles. It sends a tingly sensation over her entire hand. Your gaze tracks between your joined hands and Wanda’s face, and Wanda sees it again. That look. It’s the same one you’d given her, just for a moment, in the fitting room. Want. She knows that look very well, because it’s the same way she’s been looking at you for weeks.

Wanda’s mouth suddenly feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. Her stomach turns over. She has to break the spell and fast. If she didn’t, she’d kiss you. Right here on the dock.

So Wanda tears her gaze away from you, looking out at the horizon, which lit up now in shades of pink and orange. “It’ll be gettin’ dark soon,” she says. “We should start headin’ back,”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you agree.

The two of you stand, though you don’t immediately drop hands. When you do, it’s a slow pull. And Wanda has to busy herself with collecting the discarded glass bottles so that she doesn’t fixate on it.

The drive back to the Airbnb is quiet, peaceful, an old Hootie and the Blowfish song the only thing filling the silence.

“Hungry?” Wanda asks once the two of you have made it back inside. For some reason, it was the first thing she could think of saying. Even though she herself didn’t have much an appetite, stomach still in knots from whatever tension just happened on the docks. Because that’s what that was, right? Tension? It had to be.

“A little bit, honestly,” you answer. “But then getting tipsy always makes me hungry,”

“Well, do you know what I love when I’m a little bit tipsy? Good ol’ breakfast for dinner,” Wanda’s eyes light up as she says it. Even though her appetite was nonexistent, she’d be more than happy to cook for you. “What do you say to some flapjacks and eggs?”

“I say I think I’m in love with you!” you respond.

Wanda tries for a genuine laugh at that. It’s a joke. Damn it, she knows that. But god, does it hit too close to home.

Wanda busies herself with cooking while you watch from your seat on a kitchen stool. And soon, the mouthwatering smell of flapjacks and scrambled eggs fill the kitchen. Wanda sets the food down in front of you with a little flourish. Not wanting you to feel self-conscious about being the only one eating, she grabs a protein bar for herself and joins you at the breakfast bar. She’s not at all prepared for the adorable way your eyes light up on your first bite.

Once you’ve finished eating, Wanda clears your plate away, stowing all the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. The whole scene feels oddly domestic, and Wanda can’t help thinking that in another universe, another timeline, she’d be cooking meals for you like this every night. She’d always be on the hunt for new recipes, striving to impress you, wanting to see your eyes light up with every new taste.

“That was perfect, Wanda, really,” you say. “I wish you could cook for me all the time,”

Wanda snickers as she closes the dishwasher. “So, I’d be your servant?”

“No, god, no. Not servant!” You protest.

Wanda turns and raises a brow at you. “Your maid, then? I’d look good in the little outfits.”

Wanda regrets it the second the words are out of her mouth. Immediately, her mind is taking it out of context, and by the look on your face, so was yours. Wanda feels her cheeks blush, and she quickly changes the subject. “Speaking of outfits, I think I was promised a cowgirl hat?”

Your eyes light up. “Oh yeah! I actually did bring one. Hang tight, I’ll go grab it!”

As you disappear from the kitchen, Wanda takes the opportunity for a deep inhale, even deeper exhale. She closes her eyes and massages her temples. She couldn’t remember the last time her heart had been beating this hard. Pull it together, she tells herself. You can do this. You can get through this weekend and be normal. Just be normal.

You soon return, humming happily, and…yeah, that’s definitely a rhinestone cowgirl hat if Wanda’s ever seen one. The base of the hat is pink and dotted with the rhinestones in question. Beads hang all around the brim, jingling faintly even when you’re just holding it.

“Oh, that is loud,” Wanda says immediately. “In looks and in sound. People would hear me jinglin’ all the way in in South America if I put that on,”

“I know. I expected to be closer to blackout drunk when I actually put it on this weekend,” you laugh. “But come on, you at least have to try it on once. Please? For me?” Wanda would’ve given in any way, but then, you had to go and flash her those puppy eyes, and she definitely couldn’t say no.

With a sigh, Wanda gingerly takes the hat from your hands and settles it onto her head. And immediately, she has to blink a bead out of her eye.

“You look cute!” You chirp.

“I look like the personification of those hanging beads on that one Britney Spears album cover,” Wanda counters.

“Well, you’re not really helping your case here, because everyone loves Oops!… I Did It Again.”

Wanda huffs a laugh despite herself. You step closer, still smiling as you reach up to fix it for her. “But the beads are a bit much, I can admit,” your fingers brush lightly against the side of the hat as you try to separate the beads from Wanda’s face. But Wanda isn’t worried about the beads or the hat anymore. As her vision becomes unobstructed, all she can see is you.

You seem to catch her stare, and rather than looking away, you stare back. Your smile has faded slightly, but not completely. It’s just gone soft. And you keep staring. Like the answer to every question you could ever have is in Wanda’s eyes. Or maybe she’s just projecting because that’s exactly how she’s looking at you. And that’s exactly how she felt.

Her whole world was in your eyes. Because you were her whole world.

Wanda steps back a little, and you let her. She doesn’t break eye contact as she slowly removes the cowgirl hat and sets it on the counter. It’s a silent standoff for one heartbeat, two. Then, Wanda closes the gap and crushes her lips against yours.

She expects you to freeze, even for a second. But you don’t. Instead, your hands immediately come up to tangle in her hair and you work your lips back against hers. Wanda can’t help it. She groans into your mouth. Next, she spins, backing you against the countertop. You gasp into her mouth and Wanda slides her tongue through, flattening it against yours.

Her hands begin to wander down to your hips and yours tug harder in her hair. Wanda lets out another groan. Who knew she’d be a big fan of hair pulling?

Finally, Wanda breaks the kiss, pressing her forehead gently to yours, eyes closed. “Tell me…” she pants softly into the shared air between you. “…tell me to stop,”

You shake your head, licking your lips. “I don’t want you to stop,”

So Wanda doesn’t, capturing your lips in another kiss that’s just as, if not more bruising than the first. She sucks your upper lip, nips your bottom lip, then alternates. And each time she does, it pulls another moan from your pretty mouth, and god, she wants to bottle that sound, keep it for years to come.

Her thigh wedges between your legs, and you’re quick to grind down against it for more friction. Wanda curses, ripping her mouth away from yours and starting a trail of kisses along your jaw, down your neck to your throat. Then, thinking better of it, she pulls away.

You look up at her, a question in your eyes, but she merely shakes her head. If she was gonna leave marks, they’d have to be well-hidden. At least until you could figure out if you were leaving your spouse. But that was a big conversation, one that felt worlds away, and Wanda didn’t wanna think about it right now. All she wanted to think about was living in this temporary bubble with you.

So her hands go to your hips and she gently lifts you up until the counter top. “I wanna make you feel good,” Wanda purrs against your neck before kissing it again. “Between your legs. Can I make you feel good?”

You nod rapidly. “Yes, yeah. Please. Please, Wanda,”

With that, Wanda’s hands go to the hem of your swim coverup, pushing it up your thighs as she kneels on the kitchen floor between your legs. Your chest rises and falls quickly and beautifully as you gaze down at Wanda. She smiles as her hands go to the string ties either side of your hips, freeing the knots simultaneously.

Your bikini bottom falls to the floor, leaving you open for Wanda and she can’t help it. She bites her lip to conceal a curse. “Beautiful,” she murmurs, and then again, making sure she meets your eyes when she says it, “You’re so beautiful, honey,”

“Thank you,” you breathe.

“Don’t have to thank me for the truth,” Wanda replies, then smiles against your warm thigh as she kisses it. She kisses higher and higher until she finally reaches the heat in the center of your thighs.

One thing about Wanda, she knew how to please. She knew how to devour, to dismantle. She alternated between insistent sucks and gentle, teasing licks, chasing every place that made you moan and gasp the loudest. And all she could think about was how perfect you were. How warm and wet, and that addicting salty-sweet taste. She moans into you, which makes your thighs clench around her.

Wanda had a singular focus: making you feel good. And judging by the way your head falls back against the cabinet behind you, eyes rolling back almost to the whites, Wanda was doing just that.

Her hands massage your thighs as she works, whispering sweet nothings into your heat. Each word of praise—“You’re so sweet,” “You like that, honey? Like when I suck here?” “I love the sounds you’re makin’ for me,” —brought you closer and closer to that coveted release. And when you finally do come, losing yourself completely to ecstasy, your thighs close around Wanda’s head.

Wanda keeps you steady, even as you cry out for her, even as you white-knuckle the knob of the cabinet behind you. She eases you back down to earth, working you through your orgasm with gentle kisses and licks.

She waits until you’ve stopped writhing and then she pulls back, mouth wet as she rises to her feet. You gaze up at her, eyes lidded as she helps you down to the floor. Wanda is just about to ask if you need anything when you drag her mouth back to yours, tasting yourself on her lips. “Your turn,” you mumble against her mouth. And Wanda smiles.

You spin her so that her back is to you and Wanda braces her palms on the countertop. She’d opted to wear a one-piece bikini to the lake, so there wasn’t exactly ease of access when it came to undressing her completely. But Wanda quickly learned that that wasn’t what you had in mind, your fingers reaching down to simply slide away the fabric covering her center.

“Can I?” You murmur against Wanda’s shoulder.

“Please,” she gasps.

You drag one finger through her folds first, teasing her. And it’s not until she pushes her hips into the touch, searching for more friction, that you put her out of her misery, pressing a finger in deeper, whilst tracing her clit with your thumb.

“Oh dear god,” Wanda gasps, followed by a strangled moan as you add another finger, curling them upward just right.

“Oh y/n,” Wanda moans again, rocking against your hand with effort now. “Oh my god, yes!”

You muffle your own moans into Wanda’s shoulder, nipping at her skin as your hips begin to rock against her ass.

Wanda’s head falls back against your shoulder, her heart pounding from the dual sensations, and you take full advantage, your mouth on her throat. “You feel so good,” you whisper into her skin. “Feel so damn good for me,”

You both rock even harder; Wanda writhing against your skilled fingers, you grinding against her ass. And by some miracle, you both come at the same time, though you’d like to think it was Wanda’s orgasm that triggered a second one for you.

For a minute, neither of you can move, sweaty bodies pressed together as you school your labeled breathing. After what feels like hours, you step back from Wanda, searching the kitchen floor for your abandoned bikini bottoms.

It’s a struggle for Wanda to stand up straight at first. She can still feel your phantom fingers inside her. Finally, she turns to face you, to find you already looking at her.

Neither of you speak at first, another stare down in the aftermath. You both know a line was crossed tonight, one you can’t come back from. You both know you’d just opened up a can of worms and now action plans needed to be made. But somehow, when Wanda looks in your eyes, she’s not worried about any of it. Love and lust and want all stirred together inside her to create an affinity for you like nothing she’d ever felt for anyone in the past. She’d make it work. Whatever she had to do.

“Wanda…” you start softly.

But she shakes her head. “I know,” she says.

“I…” you try again, and again, you get tongue-tied.

“I know,” Wanda says again. She brings you in close by the waist and kisses your temple. “But at least for tonight, for this weekend, let’s just pretend. Okay?”

You nod, and Wanda kisses your other temple. Then, the skin by your eyelid, then your cheek, and finally, your lips. You kissed her back, murmuring against her lips, “I like that idea,”

[sweetandscarlet]

further in between us

• tension in between us •

• inches in between us •

•something between us •

warnings: 18+, stripper!reader (23), rich business lady! wanda (32), lap dance, yearning, praising, smut, cunnilingus, dirty talk, mommy kink, fluff, humping. minors DNI.

words: 3.3k

a/n: happy weekend to everyone! I had so much fun with this chapter :). enjoy <3 if you haven’t already, read the first three chapters linked above - xo saph.

slow erotic music continued to play from the speaker, and with a side-to-side shake of your hips, your ass bounces, pulling a groan from wanda as she watches you move in front of her. in the mirror you face, you see her watch you like a hawk; her eyes trained on you, hypnotised and enchanted by the swell of your ass, and the smooth movement of your hips.

you knew you were good at what you do, despite brushing off agatha’s compliments of “this one… she’s the best of the best.” but the way wanda’s eyes burn into you was something you’d never seen before. the woman was enamoured by your talent of dancing, and like you were the only person to exist right now.

she was respectful in all the right ways, yet still eye-fucked you regardless. you relished it; you really enjoyed the attention coming from the redhead.

It made you feel good.

you turn around to face the older woman, “so, miss maximoff,” you husk out, and as she looks up at you, she smiles a surprisingly sheepish grin at the name. the effect makes a smirk twitch at the corner of your lips, and you lean downwards slightly, your bra-clad breasts sitting close to her face. “what will i be drinking with my meal?”

wanda’s silent for a moment, her eyes focused on your cleavage. you linger for a moment, letting her appreciate the sight before moving your torso higher until your stomach faces her, and you let your body roll fluidly to the music.

“wine.” wanda replies lowly as she continues to stare.

“hmhm,” you hum agreeingly. “what kind?” it was certainly entertaining to see her mind struggle to focus.

“white, and there is lemonade to top it up with… if you’d like.”

“an attentive mommy, i see,” you purr in response, your left hand resting on her shoulder.

you felt a tingling sensation beneath the confines of your underwear when wanda moaned softly, and her hands that still rested on the edge of the seat gripped harshly, the faux leather stretching at her fingertips.

“such a good girl,” the redhead husks out, her hot breath hitting the skin of your stomach as you continue to move. “so talented.”

a spike of heat rises to your already flushed cheeks, and before you could utter a reply, the timer on your phone sounds in the booth, cutting your music off. you immediately raise your head, your motions coming to a stop as you reach to turn off the timer.

once you did, you paused the music that tried to continue after its interruption and leaned down to face wanda, “worth the extra time?” you asked, though from wandas heaving chest and parted lips, you knew your answer already.

“absolutely, i can’t believe that was only ten minutes.” the redhead uttered.

the words made you smile proudly. “time certainly flies when you are having fun.” you quipped.

you took a step back, your heels digging into the carpet below as you created space between you, even as you resented the loss of her warm body close to you. you bent at the hips and lowered your head until your lips were against the shell of wanda’s left ear, “i’ll see you shortly,” you whispered before leaving a soft, brief kiss on her cheek.

wanda’s eyelids faltered, closing momentarily at the action. she looked captivated by you, and when hooded eyes gazed up at you, the yearning for the woman to take you to her home again amplified.

“see you shortly, darling.” the older woman responded, her grip on the seat loosening as she shifted in the seat and rose from it, her hands now moving to smooth out the lengthy skirt that she looked oh so gorgeous in.

with a grin, you head out of the booth, through to the main floor, and into the changing room to get dressed and cash out. your mind was filled with nothing but wanda, and for once in your time working here, you didn’t focus on how much you had earned.

ᗢ

the sound of chardonnay glugged as wanda poured single portions into two large wine glasses. “this,” she spoke, now clipping a silver bottle stopper on the neck of the bottle. “will pair very nicely with dinner.”

god you really were being wined and dined by the woman, and as you sat in your seat at a prepared table in her open living room, you watched her intently, your hands slightly clammy at the desire for her that settled deep in your stomach.

“where did you learn all of this?” you asked with a breathy laugh. from the smell radiating from her kitchen to the knowledge she spewed about cooking, you were certainly impressed. “if you don’t mind me asking.”

wanda smiled at you and then, with the bottle in hand, she strode over to her seat, residing there. “my mother,” she spoke, her gaze focusing on the bottle as she placed it on the table. “despite my father running the business, i can say she taught me everything i know.”

it didn’t take a scientist to read from wanda’s low tone that this was a sore subject for her. but you wouldn’t prod, so instead you shifted in your seat, crossing your jean-clad legs before responding. “mothers and their teachings… though mine didn’t show me how to dance.”

wanda’s neural face raised to look at yours, her lips widening in a smile as she laughed. “i should hope not,” she snorted softly, and the sound made you grin and your stomach to leap. “that’s just all you, darling. born to be a dancer.”

“flattery will get you everywhere,” you blushed, along with a spike of nervousness that you weren’t used to feeling. “so,” you started, holding her gaze, “does the miss maximoff have moves of her own?”

wanda raised her eyebrows and thought for a moment, “i’m not the smooth dancer you are, but i would have a few tricks up my sleeve if i were in your industry.”

your curiosity piqued at that, and not only did the thought of wanda wearing lingerie make your head spin, but the thought of her doing anything like swaying her hips, bending over, or grinding on your lap made your clit throb against the tightness of your pants.

you hummed in delight, “i bet you would,” you mused. “you’re the type to excel at anything.”

“oh?” wanda shoots you a surprised look, “you seem very certain about that.”

you were absolutely certain. the redhead oozed power and ability, and with it, you imagine she commands attention wherever she goes.

the thought almost made you shiver. her demeanour was overwhelmingly sexy, and god if it wasn’t for the smell of the delicious food she had spent time making for you, you’d be on your knees and ridding her of the skirt she wore.

“i am.” you replied simply, your mind straying as you held eye contact with the woman opposite you. “now about this meal,” you say, trying to will your filthy thoughts away and focus on the matter at hand. “should i do anything to help?”

wanda grinned at the question and rose from her seat. “no,” she replied with a shake of her head, thick ginger hair swaying as she did. “you just stay there and look pretty.”

ᗢ

after you had both finished eating, you and wanda spoke over the rest of the chardonnay, and with the time that passed, you felt the wine spread a gentle flush of heat throughout your body as you grew tipsy.

“i’m curious,” wanda voices after a brief moment of silence. “lady harkness, as she calls herself, is she your… how do i put this?”

“if the word you’re trying not to say is pimp,” you reply with a laugh before taking another sip from your glass. “then no, agatha is not. she’s more like… the mother of the house.”

wanda quirks an eyebrow at that. “so there’s nothing,” she gestures with a hand, “sexual?”

“oh god no,” you say as you place your glass on the table, “agatha has many rules in the club. two being, dancers don’t fraternise with the guests, and she doesn’t fraternise with the dancers.”

the redhead hummed, her gaze faltering to her lap briefly, and when you regained eye contact with her, you knew what she was thinking.

“what would she say if she found out you were here right now?” wanda asked, her voice unexpectedly timid. a tone you hadn’t heard since the first day you met her. nervous, restricted, and doubtful to ask for a dance.

you thought for a moment. considering the longevity of your relationship with agatha, you weren’t entirely certain. “i guess one of two things: i won’t be able to work there anymore, or she’ll just scold me, say this is asinine, and...”

“and?” wanda murmured, her eyebrows furrowed.

“forbid it.”

“mother of the house, indeed,” wanda retorted as she stood from her chair, and to your surprise, walked over to you, her heels clicking against the floor as she took those few steps.

you eye the woman as she stands before you, and then, with a bend of her hips, she sits sideways on your lap, her arms resting loosely on your shoulders. before you knew it, your right hand instinctively snaked around her back to land on her hip, and your other hand rested on her outer thigh.

wow. is all you can think of. she was a sight to see, regardless, but having her in your lap like this made your hands flex against the expensive material of her skirt. she looked divine, and you needed to voice it. “you are heartachingly beautiful, you know?”

the pale skin of wanda’s cheeks flushed a shade of pink, and she bashfully turned away, hiding what you knew was a beaming smile. when she turned to face you again, wanda remained poised, even if her blushing complexion gave it away. “you’re such a sweet girl, y/n.”

you raised the hand that rested on her outer thigh and placed it against the warmth of her cheek, and your head moved forward slightly.

her breath ghosted your lips; the smell of citrus hit your senses, and with that, you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

wanda hummed when you kissed her, and your hand moved from her hip to the small of her back. you felt her hands shift on your shoulders to thread through your hair, and your heart rate spiked as she deepened the kiss.

you moaned into her mouth when her tongue swirled against yours. the sensation was something that had been on your mind since you’d both parted to work, and as you hungrily kissed each other, your mind reeled; the club’s policy and agatha’s potential fury at this situation washing away, and all that remained was the woman on your lap.

when wanda pulled away, you panted for needed breath. and watching as she did the same, you focused on her swollen, kissed lips that shone with your saliva. “come with me,” she breathed out, her thighs flexing against yours as she stood up.

one of your hands fell to rest by your side, and your other was grasped by one of wanda’s. you instantly rose from your seat and let yourself be led by her as she walked you both to her bedroom.

upon entering the dark space, wanda closed her door after you. the click of it made you face her, and as she turned to you again, you almost staggered slightly as she surged forward and reconnected your lips, her arms linking around your head and back to your hair. this time, she grasped softly at your strands, and you moaned at the desperation as she pressed herself flush against your body and deepened the kiss again. wanda was hungry for you, and it made your stomach do backflips.

“the bed,” she panted out between kisses.

you slowly shuffled backwards, not wanting her lips to leave yours, and blindly aimed for her bed. your hands moved to wanda’s hips, and at the sense of her shape, you grasped at her curvature, then snaked your hands to the swell of her ass.

another grasp made wanda moan, and as the blissful sound filled your ears, you felt wanda’s bed hit the back of your knees.

wanda pulled away, “lie down, baby,” she reached for the bedside lamp close to her, and after flicking it on, the dim light radiated as far as it could in the room, and you were greeted with wanda gazing at you, a smile on her face as she breathed heavily.

standing upright, wanda began to unbutton her cinched blazer, and it didn’t take long before she revealed a black bra. she draped the piece of clothing to her right, letting it gently rest on the floor, and when you moved to lie down, your elbows propping you up, wanda’s hands moved to her skirt.

the zipper of it sounded in the room, and when she pulled it over her hips, she let it fall into a pool around her heels, and full, pale thighs were now on display.

you bit your lip softly at the sight before you, “mommy…” you purred, and the word pulled her attention from the item around her.

“fuck,” wanda uttered with a groan, and as she stepped out of the ring of her skirt, she moved towards you, her knees dipping into the mattress as she shifted to straddle your waist.

“keep the heels on, please.” you beg, remembering how she liked manners. “you look so hot like that.”

wanda smiled and hands threaded through her hair and away from her face as she began a slow grind on your lap. your mouth fell open at the feeling, and your hands moved to her hips again, gripping the soft flesh in your palms. you guided her against your jeans, and although you wished you were rid of them, wanda panted at the friction. “that feels good, y/n.”

you continued to listen and watch in awe as wanda humped and grinded against you, and you felt an ache between your thighs and wetness coating your underwear. “you’re so sexy, mommy. shit…” you gasp, her pace increasing as well as her volume in moans.

you let your head hit the mattress as you raised your hands to her breasts, your hands palming them once through her bra before unclasping it and letting it fall from her shoulders and arms and into your hands.

tossing it to your left, your hands returned to her now bare chest. you hummed at the feeling, and when wanda’s hard nipples pressed against your palm, you bit your lip and let your index fingers and thumbs pinch them. the redhead moaned and continued to hump and chase the friction that was teetering her closer and closer, “fuck, y/n..” her eyes bore into you, and as you pinched and twisted her nipples more, her knees tightened around your hips. “i’m gonna-”

your jaw slackened as your heart pounded loudly in your ears, watching in awe as wanda began to twitch above you. “cum for me mommy,” you coaxed, and with another hard pinch to her nipples, wanda began to rut against you, mouth agape with her hands flying down to your shoulders, pressing you into the mattress.

you gazed at the sight of her cumming, feeling nothing but desire and a strong sensation of pride at the way in which she did. on your lap. desperately grinding against you. hungry for your touch.

“wow,” wanda gasped out, her chest heaving against your hands as her eyes briefly fluttered closed. “that was…”

“the hottest thing i have witnessed in a long time,” you finish her sentence for her, completely enamoured by the sight before you. your thumbs graze softly over her hard nipples before moving to rest your hands on her thighs.

“i’ll say,” wanda huffed out, and with an attempt to shift her weight, you feel her thighs vibrate and twitch. “but i think the view between your legs will be even better.”

“oh please, mommy,” you whine, your eyebrows furrowing as you bite your bottom lip. the thought of it was too exciting, and you felt overwhelmingly turned on. you ached, throbbed and lay trapped in the mess you had made in your underwear. “i want your tongue on me.”

without speaking further, wanda shuffled down your body, ignoring the wet patch she had left on your jeans, and moved to unbutton them and rid you of the confines. from the edge of the bed, her eyes raked over your legs as you re-situated yourself, them now bent at the knees.

“you look so good spread out for me, baby,” wanda husked out, positioning herself on propped elbows between your legs, “so good.”

one of her hands raised the hem of your shirt, and her mouth immediately went to the skin of your stomach. she left open-mouthed kisses on the space she created, her tongue swirling in a way that caused your eyes to roll backwards. you relished in the sensation as she worked her way down your stomach until she reached your underwear.

two fingers suddenly touched your aching cunt over the fabric of your underwear, and you gasped, your back arching slightly. “mommy…”

you almost spoke and begged her not to tease you, but wanda fortunatley beat you to the punch, because then you felt those two fingers push your underwear to the side, and her hot breath hit your bare pussy.

“you are so wet, y/n,” wanda mused, staring in amazement whilst she slid two fingers between your folds, feeling the wetness coat her fingertips, “such a good girl for me.”

wanda replaced her two slender fingers with her warm tongue, and you gasped at the sensation. the redhead hummed at the taste of you, and her hands moved to grip your waist, her tongue swirling up and down from your pulsing hole to your clit that throbbed just as hard. “you are so good at that mommy.” you praise.

wanda moans into you, the sound of it vibrating against your clit, and déjà vu flashes in your mind as your hands grip her silk sheets.

your hips tried to grind against her mouth as you felt that familiar knot forming low in your stomach, but the older woman held you in place and continued to lap and suck at your clit.

“just like that.” you gasp out, your right hand moving from the sheets to ginger locks, and your nails scratch lightly against her scalp. “just like that.”

wanda listened to your chant, and her tongue’s pace against your swollen clit stayed the same, eager to make you cum as hard as she did.

the build-up of tension from the lap dance to now had you closer than you could have anticipated, and as she continued her talented work, you felt your walls contract around nothing, and your toes curled.

“I’m-” your eyebrows furrowed, and your mouth hung open as you choked out a moan, “mommy!” your body tensed as your orgasm crashed into you, and the inside of your thighs began to squeeze wanda’s shoulders. she held you down as you convulsed, her tongue still busy on your clit, focusing on your pants and moans.

when your body came down from the high, and all that remained was a buzz of pure bliss, your body relaxed in her hold, and the redhead’s tongue grew lazy against you, then ceasing before you became overstimulated.

“you are-” you gasp out, a hand falling to your forehead, the back of it greeted with sweat that coated your hairline. “that mouth of yours…” you prop yourself up on shaky elbows and gaze down at wanda, and with ginger ruffled hair and your cum glazing her lips, you groan at the sight. “so, so good.”

wanda giggled, placing wet kisses on the inside of your thighs, “that was amazing, y/n,” she hums against the skin. “will you be staying over again?”

gazing back at green eyes, you smile widely, feeling your stomach flutter at the question. “without a doubt.”

[sylvienat-deactivated20260729]

happy pride month to wandanat

[maximoffsbutch]

Hey, love what Ive read of yours so far!

Could I request: southern milf!wanda, who wants to restrain fem!reader, but only has her rosary....

A Binding Grace

Pairing: Southern Milf!Wanda x Fem!Reader Content Warning: Restraints, slight religious guilt, strap-on sex (R receiving, strap is sometimes referred to as a cock) Word count: 1.8k A/N: such a naughty request… thanks for sending! i really loved writing this, so much so that i wrote it in one sitting. sorry for any inaccuracies, i’m not a christian. i feel like i’d be good at it though, all the longing and guilt… but i digress.

“Keep still,” Wanda hisses in your ear.

You’re trying, but your hands are just so twitchy, finding Wanda’s hair. You were trying not to tug, but when she drives her cock into you again, you just can’t help it. When you pull at her hair yet again, Wanda’s head moves away from your neck, a frown tugging at her red lips.

“I’m– I can’t help it,” you say breathlessly, but you can’t stop your smile. “My hands are all– they get a little restless.” 

Wanda’s brows raise incredulously, her hips stilling. You want to whine at the loss of movement, but you keep your hips still, not wanting to spur her into punishing you. As much as you liked being bent over her lap, your bottom was a little sore from the last time. She pulls out of you slowly, the thick silicone slipping out with ease, and you groan.

“Restless,” Wanda says flatly. Her lips twitch with amusement. “That’s one way to put it. You’re a little damn jackrabbit.”

You flush shyly. As if to prove her point, your hands move to her hips and squeeze greedily, and Wanda gasps in faux mortification. Her hand catches your wrist, stilling your wriggling fingers. “If you keep being so handsy like that, bunny, I’m gonna have to restrain you.”

You squirm with delight. “Restrain me with what?” you say, low and teasing, and Wanda looks at you sternly. It only serves to make you grin wider.

“Don’t you start gettin’ smart with me now, pet,” she says, but she knows just as well as you do that you’re only goading her on. You’d experimented with this kind of play before, having your hands held above your head or tied back with one of her silk scarves, and you loved it. Especially in this position, you think, with Wanda laying on top of you, the bed rocking, the sheets sweaty against your skin—

You blink out of your thoughts. Wanda is rummaging in her nightstand for something, objects clattering in the drawer, but you can only watch her face from this angle.

“Now where’d I put it…” she murmurs absently, brows knit together in thought. You crane your neck, your eyes following her movements, the long length of her arm, but then she stops abruptly. She’s looking at something you can’t quite see.

You sit up, legs a little sore. You follow her gaze.

Her rosary rests besides the lamp, pearly white beads curled loose against the wood.

Wanda goes still. You open your mouth to speak.

“No,” she says immediately, her voice firm. She slowly tears her gaze away to look at you. “No.” You smile impishly at her. Her hand is still on the nightstand.

“You said you wanted me to keep still,” you respond, the thought fluttering in your stomach like a wild bird. 

Wanda’s gaze hardens. “Baby, that is a rosary.”

“I know what it is.”

Her expression is unreadable when she looks back at the nightstand, at the long string of white beads and golden crucifix at the end. Her fingers curl around the rosary, muscle memory. She picks it up carefully, the way she always does, and the crucifix dangles between her fingers, glinting in the low lamplight.

This isn’t the first time you’ve seen it, of course. You’ve seen it tangled around her fingers on lazy Sunday mornings while her lips move silently through prayer. Seeing it now though, both of you unclothed and sweaty with sin, makes your stomach warm. 

Her voice is roughened with something when she speaks again. “You don’t understand,” she rasps. Her accent always lilts like this when she’s lost in thought. 

You sit closer on shaky knees until your legs press against hers. The crucifix swings gently like a pendulum. Sin tightens your throat deliciously. “I think I do,” you mumble in response. Wanda laughs mirthlessly, shaking her head.

“No, baby, you don’t.” Her thumb rubs over one of the beads compulsively, her lips pressed together tightly. “This ain’t a toy. My mama gave this to me on my sweet sixteenth.” Your brain whirs with numbers, but you’ve never been good at calculating. All you can tell is that Wanda has had it for a long time, maybe even before you were born, and something about that makes heat curl in your stomach like a serpent.

For a moment you think she’ll put it away, shut it in the drawer where she doesn’t have to look at it.

“Hands,” she says instead, stern. Your breath catches in your throat immediately. Wordlessly, you lift your wrists up to her. She stares at them a second too long, her lips parting with a long, almost pained sigh. “My sweet girl.”

The rosary beads click softly as she loops it around your wrists, careful despite the slight tremor in her hands. The crucifix is cool against the inside of your wrist, right against your burning skin where your pulse is thrumming like a live wire. A soft breath escapes your lips at the sensation, the sound almost immediately swallowed by the hum of cicadas outside the window, but Wanda hears. Of course she hears.

“Lord have mercy,” she mutters under her breath.

You try a smile, wanting to soothe her worries. “It’s a bit late for that.”

Wanda shoots you a look so sharp you hold back a shiver. “Don’t mock the Lord,” she says with steel in her voice. Your throat tightens as you nod quickly.

Wanda stares at you for a moment longer before her expression finally gives way. Her lips curl up a little, a mean little smile you know too well, and her hands slide down your sides, warm and possessive and a little rough from housework. She squeezes your hips harshly, a possessive glint in her eye, and you barely have time to gasp before she shoves you back down onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress harder now that you couldn’t use your hands to brace yourself.

You lift your arms above your head, hands flexing and grasping at nothing, not with the rosary tied around your wrists like this. The bed creaks loudly when she leans forward, a hand spreading over your stomach to still you. The air in the room is humid, made even more so by your heaving pants, and a thin sheen of sweat coats Wanda’s collarbone where her summer tan ends.

“Needy little thing,” Wanda smiles. The hand on your stomach moves to your hip, and now she’s adjusting herself, thighs brushing yours when she settles between your legs. Your fingers twitch helplessly. “Needed me to tie you up like a foal.”

Your heart races. The warm silicone presses between your legs again, and your thighs widen instinctually. “Please,” is the only word you can manage – it feels like your tongue is tied too. Wanda lets out a low, syrupy hum. Her fingers dig in greedily, snapping your hips close to hers, and her cock slides into you suddenly, every inch slipping inside until you’re flush against her.

“F-Fuck!” you gasp, momentarily forgetting your bindings, but when you try to reach out, the beads dig into your skin, the crucifix hurting against your wrist. Tears prickle in your eyes at the sudden entrance, and then Wanda’s moving again, finding her rhythm like she’d never stopped at all.

“That’s it, sugar,” Wanda groans, dropping her head down to your shoulder as she steels herself. Her rhythm is slow, brutal, and her hips drive against you like she wants to split you in half. Your cunt squeezes, clenches around her length, and the old bed creaks steadily under her careful thrusts. The room feels impossibly hot now, heavy summer air cloying and sticking to you both, and you whimper every time her cock disappears inside you.

One of her hands stays locked at your hip, keeping you steady enough to fuck you into the mattress, but the other slides up your bound arms slowly, fingers brushing over the rosary pressing into your wrists. Wanda moans against your damp skin and her pace deepens, enough for the headboard to start knocking the wall. Whimpers slip from your mouth, fueling the heat in your stomach, as her cock hits a spot that makes your hands flex your restraints desperately.

She’s mumbling something against your neck, you realize — broken little phrases that are almost lost to your louder pants and gasps. “Lord,” you hear, and the word burns against your skin, “takin’ me so good, baby, your little pussy feels so good, fuck– forgive me, Lord,” and a string of soft little moans, so unlike anything you’ve heard from her. Her fingers curl against the rosary, barely brushing your wrists, and your cunt tightens around her strap, a moan torn from your chest.

“I-I’m, ah, please,” the words tumble from your mouth, and Wanda pants against your skin, her hips stuttering just slightly. The sudden rhythm change has your hips lifting off the mattress, heat thrumming wildly in your abdomen, and you feel yourself squeeze around the thick silicone. “Please, I-I’m so– so close–”

Wanda’s hips don’t slow. “Cum for me, baby,” she mumbles against your ear, words spilling out all at once. “Cum, baby, cum for me, oh God, cum for me.” Her thrusts are almost clumsy now, betraying her own arousal, but it’s enough, more than enough, because your body tenses, electricity bursting in your abdomen. You gasp helplessly, feeling every ridge and bump a millionfold, your cunt fucked so sensitive it’s almost overstimulating.

When you come down from your high, chest heaving, Wanda finally, mercifully, slides the strap out of you, lifting her head from your neck. She’s still for a moment, just breathing deeply, waiting for you to settle, and then her weight shifts. The mattress sighs as she moves back, no longer pressed against you, but her hand is still resting on your hip, thumb brushing circles on your skin.

Her hair is stuck to her forehead with sweat, cheeks pink with both exertion and embarrassment, and her chest heaves with heavy breaths. She looks at you, still laying spread out on her mattress, trying to catch your own breath with greedy pants for air.

And when you blink up at her, lips wobbling into a tired smile, something in her chest clenches tightly.

“Jesus Christ.”

[togrowoldinv]

Okay but imagine this Natasha with this Wanda 👀

[maximoffsbutch]

Hey, love what Ive read of yours so far!

Could I request: southern milf!wanda, who wants to restrain fem!reader, but only has her rosary....

A Binding Grace

Pairing: Southern Milf!Wanda x Fem!Reader Content Warning: Restraints, slight religious guilt, strap-on sex (R receiving, strap is sometimes referred to as a cock) Word count: 1.8k A/N: such a naughty request… thanks for sending! i really loved writing this, so much so that i wrote it in one sitting. sorry for any inaccuracies, i’m not a christian. i feel like i’d be good at it though, all the longing and guilt… but i digress.

“Keep still,” Wanda hisses in your ear.

You’re trying, but your hands are just so twitchy, finding Wanda’s hair. You were trying not to tug, but when she drives her cock into you again, you just can’t help it. When you pull at her hair yet again, Wanda’s head moves away from your neck, a frown tugging at her red lips.

“I’m– I can’t help it,” you say breathlessly, but you can’t stop your smile. “My hands are all– they get a little restless.” 

Wanda’s brows raise incredulously, her hips stilling. You want to whine at the loss of movement, but you keep your hips still, not wanting to spur her into punishing you. As much as you liked being bent over her lap, your bottom was a little sore from the last time. She pulls out of you slowly, the thick silicone slipping out with ease, and you groan.

“Restless,” Wanda says flatly. Her lips twitch with amusement. “That’s one way to put it. You’re a little damn jackrabbit.”

You flush shyly. As if to prove her point, your hands move to her hips and squeeze greedily, and Wanda gasps in faux mortification. Her hand catches your wrist, stilling your wriggling fingers. “If you keep being so handsy like that, bunny, I’m gonna have to restrain you.”

You squirm with delight. “Restrain me with what?” you say, low and teasing, and Wanda looks at you sternly. It only serves to make you grin wider.

“Don’t you start gettin’ smart with me now, pet,” she says, but she knows just as well as you do that you’re only goading her on. You’d experimented with this kind of play before, having your hands held above your head or tied back with one of her silk scarves, and you loved it. Especially in this position, you think, with Wanda laying on top of you, the bed rocking, the sheets sweaty against your skin—

You blink out of your thoughts. Wanda is rummaging in her nightstand for something, objects clattering in the drawer, but you can only watch her face from this angle.

“Now where’d I put it…” she murmurs absently, brows knit together in thought. You crane your neck, your eyes following her movements, the long length of her arm, but then she stops abruptly. She’s looking at something you can’t quite see.

You sit up, legs a little sore. You follow her gaze.

Her rosary rests besides the lamp, pearly white beads curled loose against the wood.

Wanda goes still. You open your mouth to speak.

“No,” she says immediately, her voice firm. She slowly tears her gaze away to look at you. “No.” You smile impishly at her. Her hand is still on the nightstand.

“You said you wanted me to keep still,” you respond, the thought fluttering in your stomach like a wild bird. 

Wanda’s gaze hardens. “Baby, that is a rosary.”

“I know what it is.”

Her expression is unreadable when she looks back at the nightstand, at the long string of white beads and golden crucifix at the end. Her fingers curl around the rosary, muscle memory. She picks it up carefully, the way she always does, and the crucifix dangles between her fingers, glinting in the low lamplight.

This isn’t the first time you’ve seen it, of course. You’ve seen it tangled around her fingers on lazy Sunday mornings while her lips move silently through prayer. Seeing it now though, both of you unclothed and sweaty with sin, makes your stomach warm. 

Her voice is roughened with something when she speaks again. “You don’t understand,” she rasps. Her accent always lilts like this when she’s lost in thought. 

You sit closer on shaky knees until your legs press against hers. The crucifix swings gently like a pendulum. Sin tightens your throat deliciously. “I think I do,” you mumble in response. Wanda laughs mirthlessly, shaking her head.

“No, baby, you don’t.” Her thumb rubs over one of the beads compulsively, her lips pressed together tightly. “This ain’t a toy. My mama gave this to me on my sweet sixteenth.” Your brain whirs with numbers, but you’ve never been good at calculating. All you can tell is that Wanda has had it for a long time, maybe even before you were born, and something about that makes heat curl in your stomach like a serpent.

For a moment you think she’ll put it away, shut it in the drawer where she doesn’t have to look at it.

“Hands,” she says instead, stern. Your breath catches in your throat immediately. Wordlessly, you lift your wrists up to her. She stares at them a second too long, her lips parting with a long, almost pained sigh. “My sweet girl.”

The rosary beads click softly as she loops it around your wrists, careful despite the slight tremor in her hands. The crucifix is cool against the inside of your wrist, right against your burning skin where your pulse is thrumming like a live wire. A soft breath escapes your lips at the sensation, the sound almost immediately swallowed by the hum of cicadas outside the window, but Wanda hears. Of course she hears.

“Lord have mercy,” she mutters under her breath.

You try a smile, wanting to soothe her worries. “It’s a bit late for that.”

Wanda shoots you a look so sharp you hold back a shiver. “Don’t mock the Lord,” she says with steel in her voice. Your throat tightens as you nod quickly.

Wanda stares at you for a moment longer before her expression finally gives way. Her lips curl up a little, a mean little smile you know too well, and her hands slide down your sides, warm and possessive and a little rough from housework. She squeezes your hips harshly, a possessive glint in her eye, and you barely have time to gasp before she shoves you back down onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress harder now that you couldn’t use your hands to brace yourself.

You lift your arms above your head, hands flexing and grasping at nothing, not with the rosary tied around your wrists like this. The bed creaks loudly when she leans forward, a hand spreading over your stomach to still you. The air in the room is humid, made even more so by your heaving pants, and a thin sheen of sweat coats Wanda’s collarbone where her summer tan ends.

“Needy little thing,” Wanda smiles. The hand on your stomach moves to your hip, and now she’s adjusting herself, thighs brushing yours when she settles between your legs. Your fingers twitch helplessly. “Needed me to tie you up like a foal.”

Your heart races. The warm silicone presses between your legs again, and your thighs widen instinctually. “Please,” is the only word you can manage – it feels like your tongue is tied too. Wanda lets out a low, syrupy hum. Her fingers dig in greedily, snapping your hips close to hers, and her cock slides into you suddenly, every inch slipping inside until you’re flush against her.

“F-Fuck!” you gasp, momentarily forgetting your bindings, but when you try to reach out, the beads dig into your skin, the crucifix hurting against your wrist. Tears prickle in your eyes at the sudden entrance, and then Wanda’s moving again, finding her rhythm like she’d never stopped at all.

“That’s it, sugar,” Wanda groans, dropping her head down to your shoulder as she steels herself. Her rhythm is slow, brutal, and her hips drive against you like she wants to split you in half. Your cunt squeezes, clenches around her length, and the old bed creaks steadily under her careful thrusts. The room feels impossibly hot now, heavy summer air cloying and sticking to you both, and you whimper every time her cock disappears inside you.

One of her hands stays locked at your hip, keeping you steady enough to fuck you into the mattress, but the other slides up your bound arms slowly, fingers brushing over the rosary pressing into your wrists. Wanda moans against your damp skin and her pace deepens, enough for the headboard to start knocking the wall. Whimpers slip from your mouth, fueling the heat in your stomach, as her cock hits a spot that makes your hands flex your restraints desperately.

She’s mumbling something against your neck, you realize — broken little phrases that are almost lost to your louder pants and gasps. “Lord,” you hear, and the word burns against your skin, “takin’ me so good, baby, your little pussy feels so good, fuck– forgive me, Lord,” and a string of soft little moans, so unlike anything you’ve heard from her. Her fingers curl against the rosary, barely brushing your wrists, and your cunt tightens around her strap, a moan torn from your chest.

“I-I’m, ah, please,” the words tumble from your mouth, and Wanda pants against your skin, her hips stuttering just slightly. The sudden rhythm change has your hips lifting off the mattress, heat thrumming wildly in your abdomen, and you feel yourself squeeze around the thick silicone. “Please, I-I’m so– so close–”

Wanda’s hips don’t slow. “Cum for me, baby,” she mumbles against your ear, words spilling out all at once. “Cum, baby, cum for me, oh God, cum for me.” Her thrusts are almost clumsy now, betraying her own arousal, but it’s enough, more than enough, because your body tenses, electricity bursting in your abdomen. You gasp helplessly, feeling every ridge and bump a millionfold, your cunt fucked so sensitive it’s almost overstimulating.

When you come down from your high, chest heaving, Wanda finally, mercifully, slides the strap out of you, lifting her head from your neck. She’s still for a moment, just breathing deeply, waiting for you to settle, and then her weight shifts. The mattress sighs as she moves back, no longer pressed against you, but her hand is still resting on your hip, thumb brushing circles on your skin.

Her hair is stuck to her forehead with sweat, cheeks pink with both exertion and embarrassment, and her chest heaves with heavy breaths. She looks at you, still laying spread out on her mattress, trying to catch your own breath with greedy pants for air.

And when you blink up at her, lips wobbling into a tired smile, something in her chest clenches tightly.

“Jesus Christ.”

[vannnnnie]

These roles trigger my mommy issues SO BAD

Like please baby me and reassure me about everything terrible in my life but also destroy me as you do so

[maximoffsbutch]

maybe like mommy!wanda and uhh nerd!reader and mommy!wanda rewards nerd!reader for getting highest in her class? wanda could be like 35 and reader could be 22?

Academic Validation

Pairing: Mommy!Wanda x Nerd!Reader Content Warning: Praise kink, fingering (R receiving), oral sex (R receiving) Word count: 2k A/N: thank you for the request :-) i felt like i might have been writing out a deep-seated fantasy of mine at some point. it wasn't meant to be this long but i got a little carried away... enjoy!

Your shoulders ache with the weight of late nights spent studying hunched over your laptop, but you’d say it was worth it after finding out your final grade today. As you slide your key into the front door and twist the handle, the sound of low singing pulls you out of your thoughts.

Wanda is somewhere in the kitchen, humming away, and your lips twitch into a smile while you silently slip off your shoes and place your backpack on the floor. You’re trying to be as quiet as possible, but you should’ve remembered Wanda has some sort of sixth sense, because her hearing prickles immediately.

“Is that my baby back from school?” she calls out in a sing-song voice, and you bite down your grin.

“Uh huh,” you call back. You hear the fast pattering of slippers, and then Wanda appears, wrapped in a long silk dressing gown, eyes twinkling. 

Before she says anything, she moves close, arms wrapping around you in a tight, lasting embrace. Her lips brush against your forehead, then she kisses down your face, the tip of your nose, before her mouth hovers against yours. “Welcome home, baby.” A soft press of her mouth to yours, and you can feel yourself almost melt at her touch. “Go, honey, get undressed. You must be aching to relax, isn’t that right?”

You briefly mourn her touch when she pulls away, but you know she’s right. By the time you return from your shared bedroom and head back downstairs, Wanda’s on the couch, one leg delicately draped over the other, and you feel yourself staring at the long, smooth expanse of exposed skin.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Wanda says softly, amusement curling in her voice. She beckons you over to the couch, and you find yourself obeying instantly. The rug is plush under your feet, Wanda’s choice, of course. She picked almost everything that went in your home, from the kitchen counters to the beautiful ‘50s style fridge to the lovely deep velvet couch she was draped over now.

You move to sit beside her, only for Wanda to click her tongue. “Come here properly,” she tuts, then she pulls you close, practically into her lap. You can’t help the blush that rises in your cheeks as she wraps her arms around your waist. “How was school, baby?”

You hum, your tongue feeling a little heavy in your mouth. “It was okay,” you try to say evenly, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. You wonder how she’d react when you tell her the news.

“Just okay?” Wanda asks, kissing your neck softly. “You know I know when you’re hiding something, right?” A spidery hand ghosts your side – you try not to huff out a giggle. Wanda’s lips curve up. “Tell Mommy what’s going on in that little head of yours.” Mommy. The word makes you shiver. 

You squirm, feeling the all-too familiar warmth creep into your throat like cotton. “I got my results back,” you force yourself to say, even when you can feel your words slipping away, the desire to submit beginning to rear its head.

“Is that so?” You hear the smile in her voice, like she already knows you’re something to be proud of. “What did my baby get?”

You lick your lips to wet them. You can’t even believe it yourself, honestly. You’d double, triple-checked with the professor, but no, it wasn’t a mistake. “I got the highest in the class.”

Wanda goes quiet. Her hand stills against your side, fingers curling slightly like she’s trying to grasp what you’re saying. Then, slowly, “The highest?”

You nod wordlessly, though now you feel a bit of panic rise in your chest. “I-I just studied a lot, it’s not–”

Wanda slides you off her lap gently so you’re facing her completely. Her eyes are wide, and her tongue runs along her lower lip, something you noticed she did when she was deep in thought. God. Is she disappointed somehow? The thought makes you bite your lip nervously, but Wanda’s hand moves to hold yours, stilling your nervous twitches.

“You got the highest grade in the class and you thought that wasn’t worth mentioning to Mommy?”

You visibly melt, nervousness and worry leaving your body like they’d never been there at all. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest.

Wanda shifts closer to you, and you inch backwards until you’re almost completely laying on the couch. “My smart little girl,” she purrs, a hand reaching up to brush through your hair before cupping your face. She kisses your jaw, and when she pulls away, the corners of her mouth are quirked up into a knowing smile. “Smarter than anyone else, aren’t you, baby?”

The praise heats your cheeks. You squirm under her, thighs clamped together. Your thoughts feel slow, like you’re wading through molasses, and you nod a little dumbly up at her. Wanda bites her lip and smiles. “Oh? You like it when Mommy praises you like that, sweetheart? Does it make your clever little brain all fuzzy?”

Words are cotton in your mouth. You nod again. 

Wanda’s hands move slowly across your thighs, her smile never faltering. Your legs spread instinctually. “Mommy’s so proud of you, baby.” A hand strokes your inner thigh, causing you to shiver. Her nails run along the thin fabric of your pyjama pants, a long, slow trail that stops just above your abdomen. “Can Mommy show you how proud she is of her clever little girl?”

Your voice cracks when you respond. “Yes,” comes out as a broken whisper.

“Yes, what?”

Your face is on fire. “Yes, Mommy.” Heat simmers between your legs. Wanda coos.

“My smart little girl,” she purrs, and your head spins. You feel your mind slip into that space that you know Wanda loves, the one she tries to coax out of you whenever she talks like this. Thoughts gradually eke out of your brain until your only thought is Wanda, Mommy, and how beautiful she looks on top of you.

Deft fingers slowly pull apart the bow of your drawstring pyjama pants, like she’s unwrapping a particularly pretty Christmas present, and you squirm in anticipation. She shimmies them off, with you lifting your hips up to help her, and then there’s almost nothing between her touch and where you want it most.

“Oh,” Wanda murmurs, looking down. “It looks like your body already knows what it wants. Clever thing.”

You bite back a whimper, head spinning with the praise, and Wanda looks pleased. Your underwear, a simple cotton affair, is soaked, sticking to you uncomfortably. She makes a little sympathetic sound, hooking a finger and pulling it to the side, and, fuck, you shiver as your cunt is exposed to the air.

“Mommy,” you whine, the word hanging in the air, and the smile Wanda gives you is nothing short of delighted.

“Use your words, baby,” she says, though it feels like she wants you to do the opposite with the way her fingers press against your warmth. “Use your clever little mouth.”

You squirm again. “I-I want you to touch me.” Your legs spread wider when you feel Wanda’s hands push them apart, and she bites back a truly delighted smile.

She doesn’t respond verbally, but the slow drag of your underwear down your thighs is enough for you. When the offending piece of fabric is hooked around your ankle, Wanda’s smile turns into something of a smirk. She inches backwards until she’s laid on her stomach, still with her eyes on you. The eye contact burns, but you don’t look away even when her head lowers, lower, lower, until her lips ghost where you want them most. “Say please,” she whispers, and you feel the words on your clit.

“Please, Mommy.”

A pleased hum, and then the swipe of a warm tongue parting your folds delicately. Your body shoots up off the couch, back arching, a gasp wrenched from your lips. “Mm– ah, Mommy!" is all you say between needy moans, and Wanda simply hums, her lips curled into a grin like the cat that got the cream. She traces your cunt delicately, circling your entrance, and lets out her own terribly sinful moan when the tang of your arousal hits her tongue.

“Oh, my baby,” she groans, breathing hot against you, and you shudder. “You taste so good for Mommy.” And then her mouth is back on you, hot and electric, tracing every part of you like she’s committing it to memory. Your clit thrums with desperation, and when her lips finally, finally, wrap around your clit, your hips buckle, a bolt of heat spreading down your legs.

“M-Mommy, oh–” You’re silenced by a finger circling at your quivering entrance, wet from Wanda’s mouth, and suddenly it’s pushing inside you roughly while she kisses, licks, noses at your clit like she’s starving for you.

She looks up at you through her lashes, and even though you can’t see her mouth anymore, you’re sure she’s smirking up at you. Her finger presses against your front wall, finding the spot she’s felt so many times before. A moan is torn from your chest, so loud you could’ve felt embarrassed, but Wanda purrs in satisfaction. When she pulls her finger out again, you whine at the loss, but then she starts fucking you, angled just right to hit the spot that makes you see stars whenever she bottoms out.

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” you babble, words failing you, your brain slowly turning into mush while Wanda fucks you, looking up at you like you’re the prettiest thing she ever did see. It feels like you’re on fire, every inch of skin, like oil is heating in your belly. “M-Mommy.”

Her hand doesn’t slow. Her eyes, usually so green, are darkened with lust, pupils blown out and swallowing the color completely. Her tongue flicks at your clit teasingly, and, fuck, when did she slip another finger in? You can feel them pump, twisting, scissoring inside you, fucking you with carefully calculated precision that could only come from a Mommy knowing her girl’s pussy with years of experience on you.

You’re twitching with barely contained pleasure, pins and needles in your feet, and you start to writhe. Wanda knows what that means, because her fingers move achingly faster, her balm-smudged lips sucking on your clit even with the violent bucking of your hips. Your throat tightens, your brow furrows. The heat in your belly is turned high.

“I- Mommy, I’m gonna… Mommy, gonna cum, fuck,” are the only words you can string together. With a long low hum on your clit, Wanda replies wordlessly, another violent curl of her fingers, and it’s enough to send you careening over the edge. 

Your entire body tenses, crumples for a long, slow moment, pussy clenching around Wanda’s hand, and then relaxes slowly, limbs going slack, chest heaving for breaths. Wanda fucks you slowly through it, then achingly pulls her fingers from you, leaving you empty.

You’re leaning up to meet her halfway when she leans down to kiss your mouth, teeth just barely brushing your lower lip before she pulls away.

“Oh, moya lyubov,” she coos softly, another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “So, so clever. Mommy’s so lucky to have such a smart little girl like you, isn’t she?”

Your cheeks, mystifyingly, heat even more than before, and you smile a little shyly at the praise. “Well, I don’t know…” you start to say, but then a little shove at your chest knocks the air out of you as your back hits the couch again. “Wh– I–”

Wanda’s lips, still sticky and wet from your arousal, curl into what can only be described as a devilish grin. “Oh, did you think I was going to stop at one?”

You blink up at her, wide eyed. Already your pulse is jumping under your skin. “B-But Mommy, I-I just came.” You squirm with sensitivity. Wanda makes a little faux sympathetic sound.

“Why stop at one? You’ve always been a little overachiever.”