#Wanda Maximoff Imagine

[maximoffsgirl]

Felis

summary: Wanda Maximoff had a well-known reputation for barely tolerating humanity— well, except for you. That much was obvious. What wasn’t so obvious was the Wanda only you got, the Wanda who took you to secret late-night dates spent under the stars, where it was just You, her and the constellations. But now, meeting face to face with the misfortune of having to share you, will Wanda be able to survive nosy adults - known as the World's mighty heroes- that want to "take her girlfriend away"?

warnings: Established but new relationship, late night car drives, make outs, Slight alcohol consumption, Wanda being an emo black cat and cute, Jealousy and Possessiveness (W to R), otherwise I think there's none, but please let me know!

not proofread

author's note: to the anon who requested this, I hope this is what you were thinking about❤️ (I'm sorry it took sooooo long, i hope it was worth the wait)

words count: 7.905

The room buzzed with a relaxed, lively energy, the kind that paired perfectly with the faint chill creeping in from the late hour. Unfortunately for Wanda, your animated conversation with Yelena seemed destined to stretch into eternity—or at least until the yawning hours of the morning. And, according to Wanda’s resolve, it was already late enough for her to contemplate the sweet relief of her bed.  

You threw your head back in laughter, your carefree joy radiating through the room as you sipped your drink. Every now and then, your gaze flicked toward Wanda, scanning for her familiar figure. When you spotted her lingering at the edge of a small demilune table, you gestured for her to come closer. But she just pointed toward the couch where the rest of your friends were perched, and you nodded, giving her a quiet, reassuring smile.  

Your friends had practically staged an intervention to convince you to bring Wanda to your group’s monthly reunion. Sure, she’d bumped into some of them before—an impromptu chat here, an accidental coffee shop encounter there, maybe a party or two—but being submerged in the full, unfiltered chaos of your entire friend group was a whole different beast.

 It wasn’t that Wanda didn’t like them or that they didn’t like her. They got along quite well, and to Wanda’s surprise, they actually had some interesting things to talk about and fun stories to share. The problem was just… people.  

Even if your group was as friendly and easygoing as they came, they were still people. And that didn’t make them any less exhausting.  

Wanda handled it all as the night stretched on. Polite conversations, a few strategically timed smiles, more small talk than she could ever count. She kept her drink alcohol-free, making sure to stay in condition to drive both of you back. But a woman can only handle so much. She quickly found her brief moments of relief by sneaking off to the bathroom, where she’d check her phone—just long enough to catch her breath before re-entering the chaos. When that didn’t suffice, she’d quietly gravitate toward you, slipping her hand gently around your waist. It wasn’t to draw attention or interrupt; just a quiet connection, a grounding touch that offered her comfort without taking too much of your focus, letting her steal a few moments of peace before braving the crowd again.  

At some point, she even got roped into a game with two boys named Billy and Tommy, her competitive streak sparking a few rare grins. But soon enough, the buzz of social interaction began to drain her reserves. By the time you and Yelena’s gossiping marathon was winding down, Wanda had settled into her default role as the quiet observer, her emerald eyes trailing you across the room like a moth drawn to its flame.  

When you finally made your way back to her, you leaned in to press a kiss just behind her ear, instantly switching her attention to a more interesting subject: you.

Wanda’s focus shifted instantly, her gaze snapping to you as quickly as her hand placement now, a possessive grip on your thigh. She had long stopped pretending to listen to Kate Bishop’s rambling. The words coming from Kate’s mouth were nothing compared to the sight of you. Your skirt, the way it clung to your skin despite the cold, was far more interesting than… well, she really had no idea what that girl was saying.  

It didn’t take one with powers to be able to read your girlfriend. Wanda’s forest-green eyes, though soft and subtle, practically screamed, Please, let’s go home. Her social battery was drained down to fumes, and the longing for the quiet solitude of her own space was undeniable.  

When you leaned closer and murmured, “You’re ready to go. Aren’t you?” your words were laced with humor, teasing her indirectly for her lack of love for people. The spark in her eyes flared to life, a silent but emphatic yes. With a quiet chuckle, you nodded, rising from your seat and signaling the end of the night.  

Both of you offered your goodbyes to the group, earning a chorus of exaggerated complaints about how the night was still young—even though the clock had struck 2 AM half an hour ago. You smiled apologetically, tossing out an excuse about needing to get up early, even if everyone knew it was only half true. Wanda appeared beside you just in time, draping her leather jacket over your shoulders—because, naturally, you hadn’t thought to bring one yourself.  

A few quick waves later, you were stepping out into the crisp night air, Wanda’s hand finding its place on your lower back, gently steering you toward the car. You glanced up at her, smiling softly, and her lips curved into a smirk before she leaned in, stealing a quick kiss. Your surprised giggle encouraged her, and she peppered your lips with more playful pecks all the way to the car. Once there, she opened the door for you, her touch lingering as you settled into the passenger seat.  

The drive home was nothing unusual for Wanda, though her mind wandered. If it were up to her, you’d be spending the night at the tower, wrapped up in her until morning. But she knew better—your schedule was packed, and persuasion, no matter how charming, wouldn’t change your mind. Believe her, she’d tried before, and you were infuriatingly stubborn.  

“I’ll pick you up at 7 PM then,” she said as you unbuckle your seatbelt, her tone firm with a touch of affection.  

“Okay, but text me when you’re leaving the tower,” you replied, grabbing your purse.  

Wanda hummed her agreement, though her focus had already shifted. Her fingers trailed teasingly along your thigh, drawing your attention back to her. You tilted your head, leaning slightly against the seat as you flushed under her gaze. Without hesitation, Wanda’s hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss that was far more intense than you’d expected. A quiet moan escaped you, caught off guard by the heat of it.  

That sound was all it took for Wanda to tug you into her lap, her hands firm on your hips, drawing you closer with every second. One hand wandered upward, settling confidently on your neck as the kiss deepened. When you finally broke apart, breathless and grinning, you murmured, “I need to go hooome.”  

Wanda’s response was a low murmur against your neck, followed by a series of distracting kisses. “And?” her tone lazy and unbothered, her lips never straying far from your skin created goosebumps all over your body. The sheer audacity of it made you groan, tilting your head back. You knew what she was doing.  

You giggled softly, shaking your head at her antics, the warmth of the moment lingering between you. Placing your hands gently on her shoulders, you immediately drew Wanda’s attention. Before she could dive back toward your neck, you leaned in, pressing a light peck to her lips, halting her progress.  

“As much as I love this, and as much as I love you. I really, really need to go.”  

Well, that wasn’t what she was expecting at all. Her expression softened as she let her hand wander, her thumb tracing slow, deliberate strokes along your hip. Brushing her other thumb against your skin with an affectionate rhythm as her eyes met yours.  

“But you’ll stay tomorrow at the tower,” she said, and you knew better than to take that as anything other than an affirmation.  

Either way, you nodded, a faint smile curving your lips at her certainty. The two of you lingered in each other’s arms for a while longer, chatting about silly, inconsequential things, along with Wanda’s now-and-then complaints about people, in general.  

Maybe it was because Wanda grew up with only her brother by her side, her world small and quiet, that adjusting to life with far more people than she’d ever anticipated felt like stepping into chaos. It explained a lot about her demeanor—your girlfriend was, without a doubt, the definition of a black cat. From her emo wardrobe to her piercingly observant nature, right down to that deadly tilt of her head, she carried an air of mystery and quiet defiance that was entirely her own.  

A mystery that she was letting you slowly resolve.  

But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. Wanda walked you to your door, her hand resting snugly against your lower back, and stole one last kiss for the night. Alright, she stole three kisses… maybe four before she said goodbye.  

--- 07:13 PM, Saturday.

Wanda knew countless ways to show you love. She absolutely hated those five love language quizzes. But took every possible quiz known to mankind, because it made you happy. To her, there was no point in defining her love when her goal was simple: to love you in every imaginable way known to humanity.  

Take words of affirmation—Wanda had mastered them. Sometimes she’d leave you anonymous notes tucked in unexpected places, filled with songs, poems, or plain “I love yous” scribbled all over the paper. Of course, those notes often came paired with flowers, seamlessly tying into her “gift-giving” love language.

 Or she would whisper sweet things in your ear, maybe after fucking you into the mattress to a point that your legs simply decided against working; or during a cozy cuddle session, that she was so overwhelmed to the thought of loving you that expressing what her heart felt was the only way to breathe.

But Wanda had her personal ranking system, and in her imaginary list, the “best love language of all time” title went to a combination of three: acts of service, quality time, and physical touch. It might seem odd if you thought about it. Because as much as she loved her brother and cherished the company of the team, Wanda Maximoff was known as the ultimate lone wolf; who cherished her independence and had always preferred her space. But who now, lived for your presence.  

The once-solitary soul found herself missing you in your absence, casually touching you whenever you were close, and pouting—yes, pouting—when you weren’t. She’d found herself wanting to do anything and everything for you, from tying your shoelaces to painting your nails, actions that spoke volumes without a single word.  

And tonight, you realized she’d be using all three in full force the moment you shut your front door. Wanda leaned against her car casually, exuding an effortless confidence that made it look like she owned the world. Her combat boots gave her a slightly taller stance, her short black skirt was just enough to drive you insane, and her crimson lace corset hugged her waist with a perfection that could make statues weep.  

Topping it all off was her signature leather jacket, the one both of you knew would end up draped over your shoulders by the end of the night, as it always did.

She greeted you with a sweet pet name, her tone soft as she guided you to the passenger seat. Then, as soon as she got in, she kissed you—a teasing, gentle press of her lips that left your lipstick intact but made your heart flutter in the way only Wanda could.  

Too wonderstruck by Wanda’s presence to notice at first, it wasn’t until you glanced around the car that something seemed off. A frown slowly crept onto your face as you noticed the unfamiliar vehicle: a pickup truck you were certain Wanda didn’t own.  

“This is not your car,” you stated, turning to her with a puzzled look, silently asking for an explanation.  

“It’s Clint’s. And I’ll say no more because it’s part of your surprise,” she replied with a sly smirk, clearly enjoying your confusion.  

She tried to steer your attention elsewhere, initiating a conversation about anything but cars or dates. Soon enough, the two of you were caught up in the comfort of your usual rhythm. Wanda shared new stories about the team and Pietro that you hadn’t heard before, and you found yourself revealing snippets of your life before her, the kind of details you didn’t usually think to share but felt natural with her.  

Of course, curiosity got the best of you, as it always did. You tried again, your tone playfully insistent. “Where are we going?” But Wanda wasn’t budging.  

“I’m not saying. You’ll just have to sit there and look pretty,” her smile only making you more curious.  

Resigning to the mystery for now, you shifted your focus to the little comforts inside the car. You picked the music—your shared playlist, the one you’d made together late at night before you’d even started dating—and absentmindedly played with the rings on Wanda’s right hand, the same hand that rested comfortably on your thigh.  

The conversation, once again, changed to random facts, half-formed ideas, and musings stories that hadn’t come up before. But neither of you cared; every small discovery about each other felt like another thread tying you closer together.  

Then the car slowed. Wanda stopped near a gate, grabbing a set of keys and tapping your leg as she stepped out. It wasn’t until she walked toward the gate—a sophisticated, intricately designed one—that your curiosity turned into full-blown amusement.  

When she returned, you tilted your head at her with a half-smile, your curiosity now brimming. “Wanda… what is that?”  

She giggled, looking up dramatically as if in thought, before you poked her side, your need to know finally winning out.  

“I was talking to Clint about taking you on a date, like that movie we watched. But I didn’t have a place, and the park just wasn’t it. So, welcome to Anthony Stark’s country house,” she said casually.  

Your eyes widened in disbelief, a startled laugh escaping you as you processed her words. “Stark?! How?”  

If it had been Clint offering, it would’ve made more sense. He was practically Wanda’s surrogate father figure, even if she refused to admit it. But Tony? That was a different story.  

“He offered,” she said with a shrug. “Said it’s a family property he barely uses. I wasn’t going to take him up on it, but Barton called me out. And, well… it’s for you.”  

Her voice softened on the last words, and she looked away, parking the car near a tree. Even in the dim light, you could see the faint blush dusting her cheeks, a blush too strong to go unnoticed.  

Your chest tightened with emotion, and you reached out to her, feeling overwhelmed by the gesture. Wanda Maximoff, the girl who claimed she didn’t need anyone, had gone through all this trouble just to give you something special.  

“You’re too good,” you murmured, the words spilling out unfiltered, your heart feeling fuller than ever.

Wanda’s smile was a perfect blend of shyness and confidence, like she knew exactly what she was doing but still couldn’t quite believe she was pulling it off. She parked the car under the shelter of a sprawling tree, its branches reaching out like they were trying to touch the stars. And oh, the stars—countless, glittering, and impossibly bright against the deep blue canvas of the night sky.

You stepped out of the car, immediately captivated by the celestial display, your head tilting back, trying to watch it closely. You turned, ready to gush to Wanda about how breathtaking it all was, but your words caught in your throat. She wasn’t there.

Your eyes darted around, and there she was—Wanda, already moving with purpose, shutting the backseat door and making her way to the truck bed. Curiosity piqued, you followed, your footsteps crunching softly on the gravel.

What was she up to now? Your mind raced, but nothing could have prepared you for what you saw next.

The truck bed looked like a scene straight from a rom-com, but this was real, and it was all yours. Blankets and pillows were spread out neatly, candles flickered softly, and a few containers sat nearby, hinting at snacks waiting to be discovered. There was also a wooden board, though you didn’t know what it was for yet. 

And then, of course, there was Wanda. She sat on the edge of the truck bed, her dark brown hair catching the soft candlelight, her eyes shining with a mix of mischief and warmth. She stood there, effortlessly magnetic and, but her smile? always sweet.

Suddenly, the constellations above you felt insignificant, obsolete.

Why gaze at distant stars when the most radiant being in the universe was standing right in front of you? And then, like a quiet ripple in your memory, you thought back to the first time you saw Wanda.

It was a Friday night, and you were out with your friends after a long week. The local club was packed, as it always was on weekends, but the drinks were good enough to make the crowd bearable. You weren’t there for anything in particular—just to unwind, sip on a drink, and enjoy the company of your closest friends. The music pulsed through the room, and you found yourself laughing, dancing, and letting the night carry you along. That’s when you noticed her, in the middle of it all. 

Her hair tied up in a ponytail, wearing a sleek black short skirt and tall boots that added an air of elegance to her presence. There was something about her—the way she carried herself, the way she seemed to glow even in the dim light of the club—that made it impossible to look away. Your first thought was that she reminded you of a constellation. Hard to find, but impossible not to search for it.

Astronomers might say that constellations are only hard to find if you don't know what you're searching for; you didn’t know much about stars—you could barely find the three stars of the Orion Belt—but spotting her in that crowded room felt as natural as finding the constellation Cassiopeia.

But as far as looking goes, you didn’t approach her. You wanted to, but the moment never felt right. By the time you gathered the courage, she was gone, disappearing into the night like the stars fading at dawn. And there goes your North Star…

Later, after you’d been talking for a couple of weeks, Wanda confessed something that surprised you. She had noticed you that night too. In fact, she had stared at you the whole night. To the point where Pietro - her twin brother, who practically forced her out of her room that night - teased her about the intense and long stares she was giving you, saying you would soo call the cops on her ass if she continued to look like a creep.

 But she didn’t care. She was drawn to you, too busy admiring you. 

That is, until she saw Kate - your overly affectionate, completely wasted friend - throw her arms around your shoulders and drag you onto the dance floor. Wanda spent the rest of the night pouting like a child, downing a few more shots, and probably plotting Kate’s demise. 

Now, standing here with her, the stars above seem dim in comparison. Wanda is luminous, magnetic, and real—not some distant, untouchable light in the sky. And in this moment, no constellation could ever come close to her.

There was once a constellation named Felis. Created by a French astronomer in 1799 who felt sorry that there wasn’t a cat among the constellations (though that was not entirely true, because the constellation Lynx was formed by another astronomer in 1687). The constellation could be found between the constellations of Antlia and Hydra, a small cluster of stars meant to honor the elegance and mystery of a feline.

You chuckled at the cat-loving astronomer, amused by their dedication to carving out a place for a cat in the vast night sky. But at the same time, you couldn’t blame him when you, yourself, would create a constellation for Wanda. A cat, as well, because she more than half of the time took pride in her black cat personality. 

When finding yourself sad on the news that the Felis constellation has become obsolete, you decided that Wanda Maximoff would be your new Felis. Something you never got the courage to mention to her, but a silly nickname that found its way into your diary every single time you wrote about her

So as you stared at the woman in front you, your brain short-circuited. Though it always did when “Wanda Maximoff” was involved. The first thought that popped into your head was, “I’ll never get over her if we ever break up.” Because how could you? Who else would go to such lengths to make you feel like the center of the universe?

You pouted at her, your face a mix of disbelief and awe. No words came out—just a soft, overwhelmed exhale. The kind of exhale that comes when you realize just how loved you are. 

“Wands…” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda’s smile widened, and she patted the space beside her, a silent invitation. “You’re just going to stand there like a dork or will you join your girlfriend?” she teased, her tone light but her eyes full of affection.

Girlfriend. That word never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You giggled, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside, and quickly climbed into the truck bed. You settled onto the blanket, draping another one over your legs as Wanda handed it to you. 

“This is… wow,” you said, still taking it all in—the stars, the candles, the tree, her. “I mean… you are wow.” Wanda chuckled, the sound warm and low, and leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek before pulling you closer.

The night unfolded in the most perfect way. You lay there together, staring up at the stars, trying to spot the Orion’s Belt as Wanda tried to explain to you how easy it was to find it - you called her crazy right after. The sound of a nearby river added a soothing soundtrack to the moment, its gentle babble mingling with the occasional rustle of leaves. At one point, you gasped, noticing the strings of light bulbs hanging from the tree above. They cast a soft, golden glow, and you realized that’s where the light had been coming from all along. 

After a while, Wanda’s gaze shifted from the stars to you. She had this habit of staring, and while it used to make you blush furiously, you’d grown to find it endearing. You stared back, holding her gaze as long as you could, until the intensity became too much and you had to look away, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

“Are you hungry?” Wanda asked, breaking the silence out of sudden, another habit she had.

“Right now? Hmm, not really,” you replied, though your stomach might have disagreed if it weren’t so busy being distracted by the romance of it all.

Wanda nodded, but then, she quickly slid off the truck bed and disappeared toward the backseat. You frowned, curious, and watched as she reappeared with a bottle of wine and two glasses; the wooden board now serving as a perfectly sized table for two. She balanced it between you two, one leg on your side and the other on hers, and then, like some kind of romantic magician, produced two drawing books and a set of crayons.

“What is happening right now?” you asked, half-laughing, as she handed you a half-glass of wine. She poured herself a glass of water, explaining that she’d be the designated driver tonight, as it usually happened. After all, someone had to sneak you both back into the tower and find the way to her room without raising suspicion.

You took a sip of the wine, the rich flavor warming you from the inside out, and glanced at the drawing book in your lap. “So… are we having an art night under the stars?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

And it was exactly that. Wanda had planned a cozy little coloring and drawing session just for the two of you. You leaned partially against her, finding the most comfortable position possible, and your cheeks warmed up when she casually draped her leather jacket over your shoulders. She made sure to tuck the blanket snugly around your waist, making sure that you stayed warm and cozy. You silently thanked her with a shower of soft kisses, making her giggle as she playfully tried to wiggle away—though you both knew she wasn’t actually trying to escape.

Just when you thought she couldn't possibly outdo herself, she hit you with the ultimate surprise: a container of your favorite cookies. Yes, your favorite cookies. Freshly baked. Homemade. You stared at her, eyes practically glistening, and the look you gave her in that moment was so full of love that Wanda was convinced she could die happy, right then and there.

And so, the two of you stayed like that for hours—though it felt like mere minutes. Coloring, talking, kissing, eating, just loving

At some point in the night, when your wine glass had been emptied, with not a single drop to be found and the cookies had long since disappeared, you noticed Wanda giving you a look. That look. You couldn’t pinpoint what was happening inside her head at that moment: after all, you haven't yet got the time to figure out the meaning behind Wanda Maximoff’s indecipherable gazes. And that woman had an entire collection of unreadable expressions.

You weren’t the only one who noticed, though. A lot of people thought Wanda was “cold” or “distant” because of the way she carried herself—her infamous resting bitch face and her preference for not engaging in unnecessary small talk. But you knew better.

You wished people could see Wanda through your eyes. See how thoughtful she was, how much effort she put into the things and people she loved. But at the same time, there was a selfish part of you that liked keeping this version of Wanda all to yourself. You liked having this Wanda just for you. For your eyes to see, your heart to hold, and yours to have..

Especially now, when she was looking at you like that - a “that” that you didn’t even know what it meant or how you could begin to describe it -, her fingers idly tracing up and down your neck, a habit she had picked up a few weeks ago.

“I have another thing for you,” she murmured, her voice so quiet it felt like speaking any louder would disturb the peaceful bubble you had built around yourselves.

“Wanda…” You groaned, though the smile stretching across your face completely betrayed your attempt at scolding her. “You’re spoiling me too much.”

She just shook her head, a smirk playing at the edge of her lips; the red lipstick now smeared on her glass.

You giggled as she helped you hop off the truck bed, steadying you with a firm but gentle grip. But when she led you to the car and opened the backseat door for you, you couldn’t help but frown in confusion.

Settling into the seat, you looked up at her, curiosity swimming in your eyes. Wanda simply closed the door behind her, a small smirk playing on her lips. You didn’t have much time to admire her, though, because in the next moment, you realized you were trapped. Wanda had you against the door, your back somehow comfortably resting against it as she crawled closer and closer to you, until she was hovering over you, her body caging you in.

You turned your head to the side, blushing under the weight of her full and undivided attention. But Wanda wasn’t having any of that. She reached out and gently grabbed your chin, supporting herself with her other arm as she leaned in closer. 

“What? You’re too shy to look at me?” she teased, her face carrying a curious expression, though her voice betrayed her with a mock tone. “You didn’t even drink that much wine.”

You smiled, shaking your head slightly. “I had enough,” you replied, your voice soft but playful, an intense blush quickly growing on your cheeks. Wanda’s smirk grew wider, and she raised her eyebrows at you, humming in acknowledgment. 

Her thumb traced a slow, deliberate path from your chin to your jaw, then down your neck, before returning to where it began. Finally, she moved her thumb to your lips, tracing your bottom lip gently. The touch was feather-light, sending a shiver down your spine.

As she leaned down, it became clear that Wanda just wanted to kiss you right there in the back seat - that’s what she had stored for you there. You smiled up at her, your cheeks burning with a scarlet red shade as you looped your arms around her shoulders, gently pulling her closer. Wanda smiled back, her lips brushing against yours in a way that was soft and teasing, her quiet laugh escaping as she playfully poked your sides.

You kissed her lightly, quick little pecks that made her grin, but Wanda wasn’t satisfied with just that. She cupped your cheek, her touch warm and steady, and paused for a moment, her eyes holding yours - you could lose yourself in her eyes, the soft green piercing into yours with a tenderness so profound it felt almost unbearable, an intensity that seemed to pull at the very core of your being, leaving you breathless and exposed.

She leaned in, and the kiss started slow—gentle, almost hesitant, like she was savoring the feel of your lips against hers. It was sweet, unhurried, and you felt yourself melting into her, your fingers lightly threading through her hair. But the pace changed, the kiss growing more urgent, more intense. Wanda’s hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer. Her other arm tightened around your waist, holding you firmly against her. The softness gave way to something hotter, hungrier, her lips parting as the kiss turned breathless, consuming. 

You stayed there, kissing, for what felt like an eternity—minutes, hours, it didn’t matter as long as Wanda was with you. You could only focus on the way her lips moved against yours, soft and sure at first, then growing deeper, more insistent. Her tongue brushed against yours, sending a shiver down your spine as she reached down to grab your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your fingers tangled in her hair, gripping lightly as if to anchor yourself, but it only seemed to spur her on.

Every now and then, the kiss would break, just for a moment, as one of you pressed a wandering kiss to the corner of the other’s mouth, or along their jaw, or to the soft spot just below their ear, or just a playful bite at their bottom lip. 

Her lips trailed down your neck, her teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp, and you could feel her smile against you before she returned to your lips, hungry and demanding, exploring and claiming, as if she couldn’t get enough of you. And you couldn’t get enough of her. 

You stayed like that, kissing, touching, completely lost in each other. The world outside the car seemed to fade into the background, and all that mattered was her—the way her hands held you like you were something precious, the way her lips moved against yours with a quiet intensity that made your heart race.

The night stretched on, neither of you noticing the passage of time, too wrapped up in each other’s embrace to give the rest of the world a second thought. But the moment was interrupted when Wanda’s phone slipped from the seat and hit the car floor with a loud thud. The sound startled you both, and you broke the kiss, laughing as you craned your necks to see where the phone had landed.

When Wanda picked it up, you gasped at the screen—3:45 AM glared back at you. “Oh my god… I had no idea it was that late,” you said, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. 

Wanda chuckled softly, the vibration of her laughter against your skin making you smile. Her free hand found its way to your hair, fingers casually twirling a strand or scratching gently at your scalp in a way that made you melt.

After a few minutes like that, you reluctantly pulled away, insisting that the two of you should pack up and head home. Wanda groaned, complaining about how she never wanted to leave, but she eventually caved, giving in to your logic. 

Soon enough, everything was packed and ready to go.

The drive back to the tower was peaceful in a way you hadn’t expected. You never knew a a relationship could be so intense and sweet at the same time. Wanda’s hand rested on your thigh most of the time, her fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns just for the comfort that the action offered. The shared playlist playing softly in the background once again, filling the occasional silences that didn’t really need to be filled.

Sleep was already tugging at both of you, soft yawns escaping more frequently as Wanda drove. But maybe it was the music—one of your favorite songs had come on—or the way her fingers were laced with yours, your index finger idly playing with the rings on her hand, that kept you from drifting off completely.

You sighed, the idea of finally getting the sleep you so desperately graved feeling just out of reach.

“What was that for, sweet girl?” Wanda asked gently, her hand already resting on your thigh giving it a light poke.

“I was so sleepy, but now I don’t think I can sleep at all,” you complained, pouting up at her. Wanda chuckled at your dramatics, reaching over to grab the garage remote from the car door.

“We’ll find your sleep, my love. Don’t worry,” she reassured you, her voice soft and teasing. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, nodding along to her words even though you weren’t entirely convinced.

Now, here’s where things started to get a little tricky. It was well past 4 AM, and the two of you were trying to sneak into the tower as quietly as possible. But there were two problems: 1) some of the Avengers, like Steve Rogers, were known to be up before the sun, and 2) others, like Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes, seemed to have a sixth sense for every single movement in the tower, even when they were supposedly asleep.

As much as Wanda loved her teammates—her ugh, she’d have to admit it—found family, she wasn’t exactly in the mood for a full interrogation about why she was coming back so late, why she looked like she’d been “attacked by a bear” (messy clothes, wild hair, and all), or why her girlfriend looked equally disheveled. So, she did her best to walk as lightly as possible, her footsteps barely making a sound.

But, for some reason, the absurdity of the situation had both of you stifling laughter. 

It all went downhill when her jacket, which was still lazily draped over your shoulders, slipped off. The zipper hit the floor with a loud clink, echoing through the quiet hallway like a gong. You promised yourself you wouldn’t laugh. You really did. But the sight of your usually cool, collected, and slightly emo girlfriend tiptoeing through the tower like a spy on a mission just to get away from nosy adults was too much. The contrast between her usual nonchalant demeanor and the sheer ridiculousness of the moment had you biting your lip to keep from bursting out laughing.

Wanda shot you a look, half exasperated, half amused, as she quickly scooped up the jacket. “You’re not helping,” she whispered, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

“I’m trying!” you whispered back, your shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Wanda rolled her eyes, though the smile on her face gave her away. She held your hand tightly, quietly dragging you down the hallway as if you were on some top-secret mission. 

When a door near her room clicked open, Wanda quickened her pace, pulling you along with her. You couldn’t help but giggle at her exaggerated urgency, even though you knew it was completely unnecessary.

She practically yanked you into her room, instantly closing the door behind you. You immediately threw yourself onto her bed, burying your face in the pillows to muffle your laughter. Wanda stood there, arms crossed, looking completely unamused—though she was trying so hard not to laugh.

Once the laughter finally died down, you rummaged through her drawer and pulled out one of her oversized shirts to wear as pajamas. The familiar comfort of her clothes wrapped around you, and you felt the pull of sleep creeping back in. You and Wanda stood side by side in the bathroom, lazily brushing your teeth, the quiet hum of the tower settling around you.

Wanda finished first, and before you could even ask her to stay with you, she hugged you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. She let out a long, dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world had just been lifted off her shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile, leaning back into her for a moment before finishing up. You kissed the side of her face as you set your toothbrush next to hers—a small but meaningful gesture that made your heart swell. 

It was your turn to sigh when you finally curled up in Wanda’s arms, her soft blankets draped over you both. Your arms wrapped around each other, and for a moment, you just lay there, breathing in the quiet comfort of being together.

You shared a conversation that might’ve lasted three minutes—less maybe. As one of you  finally dozed off, and the other followed soon after, finally giving in to the exhaustion of the night. You smiled in your sleep, somewhat feeling the steady rise and fall of Wanda’s chest and the warmth of her arms around you, pulling you into the deepest, most peaceful sleep you’d had in a while.

Before you started dating, Wanda had quickly noticed your insatiable curiosity. You were always asking her questions—about her life, her thoughts, her experiences—and she found it endearing. You’d dive into every little detail she shared, researching things she mentioned just so you could come back with more to talk about. It was cute, the way you were so eager to know every part of her.

So, it wasn’t a surprise to Wanda when she woke up to find you standing in the middle of her room, intently studying the little photo mural she had near her study table. She watched you for a moment, shifting on the bed to get more comfortable as you analyzed every corner of her space.

You’d been in her room a few times before, but most of those visits had been in the dark—escaping from a party she’d convinced you to attend, too caught up in  kissing and taking each other’s clothes to notice the little details. Now, in the soft morning light, you were finally taking it all in: the guitar leaning against the wall, the painting supplies tucked neatly next to her wardrobe, the little trinkets scattered across her shelves.

“You’re very nosy, you know,” Wanda said, her voice soft but teasing, breaking the silence.

“Hm?” You turned to face her, a smile spreading across your face despite the faint pink tinting your cheeks. You hadn’t expected her to be awake.

Wanda grinned at your slightly embarrassed expression, propping herself up on one elbow as she watched you. “You’re being nosy,” she repeated, her tone playful.

“That’s a love language, you know,” you shot back, walking over to the bed with a smirk.

“What? Stalking?” she quipped, raising an eyebrow to tease you further. You nodded, climbing onto the bed beside her. “Yes. It means I like you.”

She let out a fake, dramatic gasp, clutching her chest as if wounded. “Like me?! And here I was thinking you loved me.”

You laughed, leaning in to kiss her cheek, then her nose—which made her scrunch it up in that adorable way you absolutely adored—before finally pressing a soft peck to her lips. Wanda smiled, her hands instinctively finding your waist as you settled into her lap.

“So, you’re nosy, a stalker, and a thief?” she teased, her eyes scanning you from head to toe. She made no effort to hide the fact that she was checking you out, her gaze lingering on the way her gray sweatpants and black tank top hung loosely on your frame. Even your damp hair smelled like her shampoo.

“You knew all of that before you started dating me,” you fired back, grinning sweetly at her

Wanda chuckled, her hands moving to your hips as she gently swayed you from side to side, her touch playful and affectionate.

“I can’t run away now, hm?” Wanda teased, arching her eyebrows at you with that playful smirk you loved so much.

You quickly shook your head, grinning from ear to ear. “Nooo, no! You can’t,” you replied, leaning in to kiss her again, as if to seal the deal.

Before Wanda could fire back with another quip, a slightly robotic voice interrupted the moment. It was Jarvis, the ever-helpful A.I. that seemed to know everything happening in the Avengers Tower.

“Miss Maximoff, you have been requested in the kitchen for breakfast. Miss Y/L/N as well,” 

You blinked, surprised. “They know I’m here?” you asked, turning to Wanda with wide eyes. Wanda shrugged, her expression a mix of amusement and nonchalance. 

It didn’t take long before the two of you were heading to the kitchen—after Wanda’s whole morning routine, of course, and a few (okay, maybe more than a few) kisses in between. 

You were kind of used to walking around the tower by now—not enough to feel completely at ease wandering alone in the massive building, but enough to find your way to Wanda’s room, the gym, and the garden without getting lost.

But here’s the thing: even though you were somewhat familiar with the place, you’d never been in a room with all of the Avengers at once. Sure, after Wanda dragged you to one of Stark’s infamous parties, you’d met a few of them. There was Clint, who somehow always gave off “cool dad” vibes. Natasha, who you still couldn’t figure out—did she hate you, or was she just like that with everyone? (Wanda assured you it was the latter.) And, of course, Tony Stark himself, the party host. You’d exchanged polite smiles with a few others, but that was about it.

Being in a room with all of them, casually having breakfast? That was an entirely different beast.

You expressed your nerves to Wanda as the two of you walked down the hallway, your fingers tightening around hers. “What if I say something stupid? Or, I don’t know, spill coffee on Captain America?” you whispered, only half-joking.

Wanda chuckled, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “You’ll be fine,” she said, her voice calm and steady. “They’re just people. And besides, you’ve already survived a Stark party. This is nothing.”

You weren’t entirely convinced, but the way Wanda laced her fingers with yours and gave you that soft, encouraging smile made it a little easier to breathe. Still, as you approached the kitchen, you couldn’t help but feel like you were walking into a lion’s den.

But right now, as you sat at the table with a cup of coffee poured by Tony Stark himself, a stack of pancakes offered by Bruce Banner, and an excessive amount of chocolate syrup drizzled over your plate by none other than the God of Thunder, Wanda found herself feeling increasingly uneasy. 

Everything was about you. They wanted to monopolize your time, your attention, your breakfast. They bombarded you with questions: about your life before Wanda, your life with Wanda, your thoughts on global warming, and even your theories on what lies beyond a rainbow. They wanted to know every single little thing about you, it was like they’d collectively decided you were the most fascinating person in the world, and Wanda couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

She tried, though. Oh, she tried. She crossed her arms, pouting like a child, and reached for you every chance she got—your thigh, your arm, your waist, your hands—but every time she managed to steal even the tiniest bit of your attention, someone else would jump in with a question or a story or a joke.

For heaven’s sake, you were her girlfriend. You were in the tower because of her, to have breakfast with her. And now it was all about them.

Even Natasha, who had always been hard to read, seemed to have taken a sudden liking to you. She poured you more coffee, for crying out loud! And Bucky—ugh, don’t even get Wanda started on Bucky—the man who had been silent all breakfasts until the present day, suddenly became way too curious about your life. Wanda made a mental note to hide his fake arm later.

When Sam teased Wanda about “losing her girlfriend to the team,” her eyes flickered red, jealousy flaring up like a wildfire. Sam laughed, clearly getting the reaction he wanted, but he quickly assured her he was just joking. It didn’t help. Wanda gave up on her nearly finished breakfast and decided to keep both hands firmly on your upper arm, as if claiming you back.

But even that wasn’t enough. After a few more minutes of watching you laugh and chat with everyone, Wanda had had it. She stood up abruptly, sighing heavily.

“The questionnaire time is over,” she announced, her voice loud and clear. “If you’ll excuse me, she’ll spend her time alone with me now. Because she’s my girlfriend.”

Her jealous tone made you chuckle, but you didn’t argue. You waved goodbye to the table as Wanda dragged you down the hallway, her grip firm but not unkind. Before you even made it to her room, Wanda had you pinned against the wall in a dimly lit hallway—somewhere you were pretty sure you’d never been before.

She kissed you like her life depended on it, her hands gripping your waist as if to remind you who you belonged to. You smiled into the kiss, knowing full well this was her way of reclaiming you.

“I can’t believe they took all of my breakfast time,” she complained between sweet, lingering pecks on your lips.

“You know I’m all yours,” you smirked, trying not to laugh at the adorable jealousy she couldn’t quite hide.

She nodded, burying her face in your neck, her arms tightening around you. “Mine,” she muttered, her voice muffled but firm.

But as possessive as she was, Wanda couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of happiness underneath it all. She hadn’t planned on introducing you to her found family like this—not so early in your relationship—but seeing how easily you fit in, how naturally you charmed everyone, made her heart swell. You had a way of making her feel comfortable, of making her feel like she belonged, even in her own chaotic world.

As she’d watched you at the table, your lips smudged with chocolate syrup and your hand lazily wrapped around your coffee cup, she realized something: she could never, ever let you go. 

How could she, when you made her feel like a perfect, solved puzzle—like everything in her life finally made sense?

Because when she was with you, she didn't care if things made sense, they always did if she had you by her side.

✄╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it💌

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (16 - A Heart to Break)

Chapter Summary: This was cold, deliberate. Wanda wasn’t avoiding you, not exactly. She was around, always there at team meetings, in training sessions, and the common areas. But she never acknowledged you. When she did look at you—on those rare occasions—it wasn’t to meet your eyes. It was to look through you, as if you weren’t even there.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Chapter Tags: Angst

A/N: I'd like thank all of you again for following this series. Getting asks or feedback for this story is always the highlight of my week, especially how busy I am with school. Hope you like more angst :) P.S. @justagaynerdsblog it's not what you think. It's not THAT kind of triangle, it's just two idiots in love and being stupid // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Wanda started dating Vision right away.

Much to your chagrin.

Not that you had any right to feel that way. You’d practically shoved her toward him, hadn’t you? Painting Vision as the perfect choice, the logical choice, the safe choice. You could almost laugh at how quickly they’d made it official. 

Well, almost.

Every time you saw them together, that laugh stuck somewhere in your throat. The compound wasn’t exactly big enough to avoid them. You saw them everywhere—Vision holding open a door for her, Wanda tilting her head back to laugh at something he said. It was all perfectly polite—just like you’d told her it would be. 

You told yourself it was fine. You had no right to feel jealous, no right to feel the knife that twisted in your chest every time Wanda smiled at him the way you wanted her to smile at you—how she used to smile at you.

Still, it grated.

You didn’t realize how much until the team dinner that Friday.

The dining room was rampageous, everyone laughing and talking over each other in a way that only happened when Tony was footing the bill and the drinks were flowing freely. Wanda sat next to Vision, their chairs too close, their hands brushing often enough to make your jaw clench every five minutes.

You’d taken a seat at the far end of the table, two spots down from Sam, who was loudly recounting some mission story that had Natasha rolling her eyes. You weren’t really listening. Your attention kept drifting to the other end of the table, where Wanda was leaning in to whisper something to Vision, her lips curving into a soft smile at his response.

You looked down at your plate, stabbing a piece of grilled chicken a little harder than necessary.

“Having fun there?”

You glanced up, startled, to find Sam smirking at you, his arms crossed like he’d been watching for a while.

“What?” you asked, your brain still catching up.

“You’re murdering your dinner,” he nodded toward your plate, “What’d that chicken ever do to you?”

You looked down and realized your fork was practically embedded in what used to be a respectable dinner. Now, it was just a mushy lump, draining what was left of your appetite. You loosened your grip and mumbled, “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” Sam said with a wink, his grin widening before he went back to the group discussion.

At the other end of the table, Vision said something that made Wanda laugh. It wasn’t one of those fake ones (you could honestly tell) she gave when she felt like she had to. Against your better judgment, you risked a glance. Wanda’s eyes were bright, her head tipped slightly toward him, looking positively smitten. Vision said something else, and she laughed again, this time quieter, her hand brushing her hair back behind her ear.

“God, this is pathetic,” you muttered to yourself, barely audible.

“What’s pathetic?”

Natasha this time. For someone trying to keep their head down, you were doing a terrible job. 

“Nothing,” you mumbled quickly, hoping she'd let it go. 

Of course, she didn’t. “You’re sulking like a teenager, and it’s making everyone uncomfortable. Come on,” she said.

Before you could make your defense she was already on her feet, nodding for you to follow. You hesitated for a fraction, then pushed your chair back, grateful for the excuse to leave. You could feel Wanda’s gaze on you as you stepped away from the table, Natasha leading the way out.

By the time you reached the balcony, you were ready to empty the meager contents of your stomach. You hadn’t been eating well lately, and it was starting to take a toll on your training regimen. You’ve been skipping workouts more often this week, and Natasha had been noticing that too.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asked, though there’s no pressure in her tone of voice.

“Nope,” you replied, short and to the point.

Natasha shrugged, unbothered. “Suit yourself.” 

She shifted to one side of the balcony, pulling a cigarette from her back pocket and lighting it with the kind of flair that made you wonder if she smoked to think or just to piss people off.  She inhaled deeply, held it, exhaled away from you in a long, steady stream. 

You leaned against the railing, your fingers curling around the cold metal, trying to focus on the night sky rather than the conversation you knew was coming. Natasha never forced anything, but she didn’t let things go either. Not when she thought there was something worth digging into.

“This… push and pull with Wanda. It’s exhausting to watch, honestly,” she started.

You scoffed, almost exaggerating it. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“You were friends, real friends, and now you can’t even be in the same room without turning into this.”

“Into what?” you asked.

“Like a zombie, Y/N. And Wanda—or maybe Vision—is the brain you want to eat. You’re not yourself. What happened?”

“That’s ridiculous.” You bristled, looking away. “Nothing happened, okay?”

“Right. Because ‘nothing’ turns people into brooding messes who barely eat, barely train,” she countered.

You kept quiet. Natasha had no business knowing about this. If your face gave you away this evening, you were just going to have to fake it until you make it.

“Something happened, didn’t it?” Natasha said, not even bothering to disguise the accusation. “Between you two. Because this? This isn’t just awkward. It’s worse. My guess? You broke your own damn heart.”

“I don’t have—”

“A heart to break?” she cut in, rolling her eyes so hard you could practically hear them scrape against her skull. “Stop it. The more you deny it, the more it owns you. That’s how it works.”

You frowned, trying to parse where she was going with this.

“There’s a way to handle it,” she continued, exhaling smoke as if it carried some of her frustration with it. “You move on, Y/N. But, clearly, you’re doing it wrong.”

“You’re the expert now?”

“I’m saying I’ve been there,” Natasha said, taking another drag of her cigarette. “You’re stuck because you haven’t accepted the decision you made. And it’s eating you alive.”

“How do you know that I—”

“Oh, come on. Everyone knows Wanda’s been obsessed with you since she joined the team,” she said with a faint smirk. “And now she’s with Vision. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. You chose something—or someone—and now you’re second-guessing yourself.”

What she said settled over you like a suffocating blanket. Natasha was right. It was the ‘what if?’ that’s been haunting you since you denied your feelings for Wanda—rather impulsively if you were being truly honest. 

“Do you… Do you think I made the right choice?”

“As much as I’d love to hand you the answer on a silver platter, I don’t have it,” Natasha said, brushing ash from the tip of her cigarette. “Only time will tell, I guess. But I will say this: you made your choice for a reason. Trust yourself on that, at least.”

Natasha pushed off the wall, brushing her hands against her pants. “Better get back inside before she comes looking for you.”

“She won’t.”

Natasha let out a dry, skeptical hum before heading back inside. You’d thought she’d dragged you out here to convince you to get Wanda back. But this was harder to swallow.

Trust yourself. 

As if it were that simple.

—

The fallout with Wanda this time was different. Different from all the other times you tried to jumpstart some version of a friendship or a co-working relationship and failed. It wasn’t the wary distance you’d both kept when she first arrived at the compound, when trust was something neither of you could afford to give. This was worse.

This was cold, deliberate. Wanda wasn’t avoiding you, not exactly. She was around, always there at team meetings, in training sessions, and the common areas. But she never acknowledged you. When she did look at you—on those rare occasions—it wasn’t to meet your eyes. It was to look through you, as if you weren’t even there.

She was always with Vision now. Rarely did you see her without him by her side. The team had started referring to them as Wanda and Vision, like they were one entity. It wasn’t, “Ask Wanda,” or, “Ask Vision.” It was, “Ask Wanda and Vision.” As if they’d merged into one seamless, perfect unit. When Vision wasn’t around, the questions still fell to Wanda, as if she spoke for him. When Wanda wasn’t around, Vision became her proxy. The separation between them had dissolved in everyone’s minds, and you hated it. Not because they didn’t deserve to be happy—no, you’d told yourself you wanted that for her. You just hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to watch it unfold right in front of you.

You told yourself you’d get used to it, that it was just a phase, but it wasn’t. It was more like a drawn-out misery you couldn’t escape. You missed her. You missed the easy banter you’d started to build before everything fell apart. You missed the way her sharp wit challenged you, the way she’d smirk when she knew she’d gotten under your skin just enough to make you react. You found yourself wondering if she still trained, if she was keeping up with the progress she’d been so proud of.

And sometimes, when you were alone in your room, you wouldn’t even turn up the music. You’d sit there in the quiet, waiting, straining to hear anything from her side of the wall. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you’d hear her playing the guitar—something she’d started doing more often in recent weeks. Most nights, though, it wasn’t the guitar you heard. It was Vision. Wanda’s voice rarely reached you, but when it did, it was laughter. Laughter that you didn’t cause, that wasn’t yours to hear anymore.

The worst of it came when they started leaving together. Late at night, when the compound had quieted down and most of the team had gone to bed, you’d hear the faint sound of their footsteps, see them heading toward the exit. You told yourself they were just walking, just talking, but you weren’t naïve. You knew what couples did late at night.

And they were a couple now.

—

You considered going back to your apartment in the city. It wasn’t far—just a few miles—but the missions were rolling in again, and timing was everything. It was easier to stay at the compound, to be ready for whatever disaster came next. Besides, throwing yourself into work was better than sitting alone in an empty apartment with your thoughts circling Wanda and Vision like vultures.

Missions came and went, and luckily, you weren’t paired with Wanda or Vision. Someone else was always available, someone else always volunteered. It was a small mercy you clung to as you poured yourself into the work. You kept yourself busy. Busier than usual. You took on every assignment thrown your way, volunteering for extra shifts, running double-time during debriefs. 

But the work didn’t just distract you—it became a way to punish yourself. You didn’t take unnecessary risks; you took reckless ones. If the odds were stacked, you went in headfirst.  It wasn’t that you wanted to get hurt—at least, not consciously—but somehow, the pain on the outside felt like the only thing that could dull the pain within.

And the wounds came. Small ones at first—a sprained wrist, a shallow cut above your brow. Then larger ones. A nasty gash along your arm during an ambush. Against protocol, you never went to the in-house medical team. You handled it yourself—bandaging wounds in your room, stitching yourself up with clenched teeth, biting down on a scrap of fabric to muffle the sounds of pain.

It was only a matter of time before your luck ran out.

—

The bullet grazed your side during a narrow escape, tearing through your jacket and slicing into your skin with brutal efficiency. You barely had time to think about it in the heat of the moment, too focused on getting out alive. But by the time you returned to the compound, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving nothing but the sharp, unrelenting pain and the blood—hot and stick— seeping through your fingers as you clutched your side.

Turning a corner, you nearly collided with Wanda, who was coming back from the gym. She was still in her workout gear, a towel slung over her shoulder, her hair pulled back, a light sheen of sweat on her skin. Her eyes darted up to meet yours, and for the first time in weeks, she didn’t look away immediately.

You managed a small nod and tacked on a weak smile for good measure. She returned the nod but the smile didn’t come. She moved to step past you, and you thought that would be the end of it.

But then you faltered—just a split-second wince as the pain surged, a grimace you couldn’t quite hide. Her steps slowed, her head turning slightly. Her eyes landed on your hand, pressed against your side, and then on the dark red stain spreading through your shirt.

“Wait,” she said sharply.  

“It’s fine,” you muttered, trudging along, trying to walk straight even though your side burned like hell.

Without a word, she turned back and then unwound the towel she had draped around her shoulders, stepping closer and pressing it firmly against your side. You jerked back at the pressure but didn’t stop her. Her hand stayed steady, though her expression betrayed none of what she might’ve been thinking. It wasn’t anger, or at least not just anger. 

“I’m calling the medic,” Wanda said.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s just a graze. I don’t need the medics.”

Wanda merely glared at your wound, though you could see the tightness in her jaw, the way her lips pressed into a thin line.

“You’re bleeding through a towel,” she said flatly.

“I just need the first-aid kit,” you mumbled, glancing toward the storage room. “That’s all.”

She didn’t look at you as she asked, “Where is it?”

“Why?” you asked cautiously.

“So we can patch you up.”

We.

Did she mean you and her? Or was this some prelude to Vision walking into the hallway and the couple patching you up together? You didn’t ask, though the thought burned in the back of your mind.

“It’s just right there,” you finally said, pointing weakly toward the door a few feet away.

She didn’t move right away. Her hands stayed where they were, pressing the towel firmly against your side, applying just enough pressure to slow the bleeding but not enough to stop your brain from wondering why the hell she was doing this. Wanda had made it pretty clear she wanted nothing to do with you. A wound like this wasn’t life-threatening at all. But she was treating it like you were on death’s doorstep, making it more difficult for you to ignore the flutter of feelings you’d been working so hard to bury.

After what felt like too long, Wanda stood, releasing her grip on the towel. “I’ll get it,” she said simply. You stayed where you were, slumped against the wall. The absence of her hands left you trembling slightly, and for the first time, you really felt the weight of exhaustion pulling at you, the weakness from blood loss settling in.

Fine. Maybe you’d lost more blood than you’d let on. Maybe being stubborn about not calling the medic wasn’t your brightest move. Still, you’d had worse. This didn’t even rank in your top five.

Wanda returned a moment later, but instead of handing you the first-aid kit, she surprised you by crouching beside you and looping your arm over her shoulder. Without a word, she guided you to the storage room, half-carrying you with surprising strength. Once inside, she maneuvered you to sit on a low bench against the wall, then turned away to open a cabinet. When she crouched back down in front of you, first-aid kit in hand, she didn’t so much as glance in your direction. She snapped the lid open and laid out the supplies.

“You don’t have to do this, Wanda,” you whispered, your voice scratchy and weak, which annoyed you more than the actual wound. You were starting to feel a little loopy, unsure if this was really happening or just a dream—if you were dead somewhere else or still lost in sleep in your bed. If it were the former, you thought, it was certainly a good way to go. It made you smile without realizing it, which only seemed to make Wanda more alarmed.

Now moving with a bit more urgency, she grabbed a bottle of antiseptic and a piece of gauze, pouring the liquid onto it before pressing it against your wound unceremoniously. You hissed, waking you up a little, your hand gripping the edge of the chair as the pain flared. She didn’t acknowledge the sound, her attention fixed on cleaning the blood away.

“Stay still,” she warned after you’ve shied away too far.

When she pulled out a needle and thread, your stomach sank like a stone in dark water. “Stitches?” you muttered, though it barely qualified as a question—more of a sigh, defeated before the fight even started.

“It’s deep enough,” she reasoned, her tone leaving no room for argument. 

The first stab of the needle lit up your nerves, a white-hot jolt that ripped through your side. You sucked in air through clenched teeth, fists balled tight at your sides.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered under your breath.

“Stop moving,” she said, her voice maddeningly calm.

You didn’t stop moving, not entirely, but you managed to keep your whimpers to a minimum as the needle went in again. And again. At some point, the pain dulled—not because it got easier, but because it started to blur, your skin either numbing or your brain deciding it had enough.

When she tied off the last one, she grabbed the bandages, wrapping them around your torso.  The bandage had to loop around your waist, and for that, she leaned in, her arms slipping behind you. She was so near that you could almost count the freckles scattered across her nose. The proximity made you hyper-aware of yourself—how you reeked of blood, smoke, and sweat, and how there was nowhere to hide from it.

And then it was over. She finished without ceremony, knotting the bandage with quick fingers before standing and turning away. For a moment, she hovered by the cabinet, her back to you, her shoulders stiff.

“Don’t make me do this again,” she murmured so quietly that you couldn’t quite decipher the emotion behind it.

Her words should’ve felt like an admonition, but instead, they landed like a plea. You weren’t sure if she was talking about the stitches or something much more complicated. And as you watched the way her shoulders sagged slightly, the way her head dipped like the fight had drained out of her, it hit you—this wasn’t easy for her either. None of it was.

“Wanda…” Her name came out too soft, like you didn’t really want her to hear it. Like you weren’t sure what you were going to say next.

“Get some rest,” she murmured, the words almost tender—

But final.

[cthulhus-curse]

‎‧₊˚✧ Marvel Women Spicy Links ✧˚₊‧

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Wanda Maximoff

Wanda riding your strap

Wanda torturing your pussy

Teasing submissive Wanda’s nipples

Sucking Wanda’s tits

Wanda eating you out

Wanda touching you whenever she wants

Fingering Wanda as she calls you ‘daddy’

Being a good pet for Wanda

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Natasha Romanoff

Playing with Natasha’s tits

Fingering submissive Natasha

Natasha being obsessed with your clit

Fingering submissive Natasha pt. 2

Natasha fucking you through your panties (Nat has a penis)

Natasha using her strap on you

Mutual masturbation with Natasha

Using your strap on Natasha

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Kate Bishop

Kate sucking your fingers

Kate being mesmerized by your tits

Fingering Kate in a cute outfit

Playtime with dominant Kate

Pussy slaps with Kate

Fucking Kate while wearing a ghostface outfit

Strapping Kate while she wears a cute outfit for you

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Agatha Harkness

Agatha dressing you up in a cute outfit + fingering you

Tribbing with a very vocal Agatha

Top butch Reader + bottom femme Agatha

Agatha using her strap on you

Agatha being obsessed with your strap

Agatha pouring hot wax on you as a punishment

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Yelena Belova

Dry humping with Yelena

Yelena using her strap on you

Yelena + tribbing

Yelena using you however she pleases

Yelena worshipping your pussy

Giving Yelena head

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 (𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟓) - 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, NON- CON, dark!Wanda, kidnapped, drugging, mind control, mommy kink, enchanted strap, breeding kink, dumbification, praise kink, manhandling

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: With Vision gone Wanda found a new way to have her perfect family. But for that she has to take drastic message

𝐀/𝐍: let’s pretend it’s yesterday

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞

Wanda longed for one thing, a family, something picture perfect like you’d see in the sit coms she used to watch. But with Vision gone, she thought she could never reach her goal until she had found you. Pretty and young the perfect wife for her causes.

There was only one problem you already had a man. Which made her more angry with each day passing. How could a man claim over something which was clearly made for her. The only solution was to steal you away from your life, make you forget so you wouldn’t linger after the things which were bad for you.

Around her cabin in the Canadian woods she had build a small hex. A hex you couldn’t cross but was still big enough to make you feel like you could prow through the forest. But first she needed to catch you on your way home as she had mapped your daily schedule perfectly.

Wanda walked three steps behind you her hoodie hiding her face. Until you crossed in the dark valley leading into your Appartement. Hastily she had caught up to you her fingers casting a spell before you fell in her arms unconsciously.

When you regained your consciousness, waking up in clean white sheets with sun streaming through the window. Something was off, but you couldn’t remember what. You had memories of a life with a woman who seemed familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

When you stood up and found the kitchen the same unfamiliar woman was cooking breakfast, Wanda, had you just forgotten the name of your own wife? “Oh baby you’re awake already” She pulled you against her chest “Do you still have the headache from yesterday baby?” She asked her hand petting over your hair. “W- What? I can’t remember” Her perfect smile distorted a bit, became creepy even. “That’s because you haven’t had your pills yet baby” She spoke in a soothing voice as if it was the most normal thing for her.

She kept preparing for breakfast, cutting some strawberries because she knew she liked them. While she was focused on you her accidentally cut her finger, and the hex flickered for a split second and all the memories can crashing down on you. With from shock widened pupils you stared at her and she knew she had to act fast. “W-here am I?” Tears were building in building in your eyes. “Let me go I- I have a boyfriend, f- family”

She lounged at you manhandling your body on the couch “you don’t need them! All you need is me, I can tell what’s good for you and what not” She pressed you down hard the tears were already wetting the couching of the couch. “You’re just a dumb little girl who needs mommy to tell her what to do”

“Please don’t” You begged but her magic was already making you forget again. You’re brain soon felt like mush. You barely registered her pushing up your shirt and pulling your panties down “that’s a good girl all dumbed down and obedient” She played with your sloppy cunt. “You’re so wet baby? Do you like mommy playing with your little pussy?”

“Yes mommy” you mewl pushing your hips into her hands “Mhm that’s thats right… let mommy do all the thinking” She unzipped her own pants pulling them down to her thighs to reveal her enchanted strap. She alined herself with your sloppy cunt. Roughly she pushed into your tight hole splitting you open.

You mewl pressing your hips against her, like the desperate whore you were. She was harsh with her thrusts not caring about your desperate cries for release as they were only backround ambiance to the slapping of skin.

“You’re so tight for mommy” She cursed under her breath feeling every inch of you as she fucked you raw. “F- feels so good” You cried your throat raw from the screaming. “I’m gonna fuck you so full your gonna carry my babies”

“Yes” you chanted feeling your stomach tighten as you were just about to cum. “I’ll get you a full that’s what you want?! My dumb little housewife always ready for my dick?” She mocked her hand slapping your butt.

“M- Mommy, I- I’m close” You mewled biting down into the pillow you were clinging on. “Cum with me baby make me proud and cream over my cock” She fastened her hips again and you squirted all over her abs. She released her seed shortly after pulling out to finger her cum back into you. You were too far gone in the trance as you feel asleep on the couch. In a few hours you would be perfect for her that she was sure of.

@jolyssereed

[wandaverse]

meet me in the pale moonlight.

vampire countess!wanda x human painter!reader

summary: In the early 1870s, the young and renowned Y/N arrives in the bustling New York City looking for a new start. Little does she know that a creature of the night lurks in the shadows and that there’s something sinister about the woman she’s become enamoured of, the elusive Countess Maximoff.

warnings/tags: dom!wanda, fem sub!reader, smut, oral, cunniIingus, fingering, mas0chism, blood klnk, hints of humiliation and praise klnk, thigh and foot riding, age gap if you squint, wanda calls r pet, 18+ / MINORS DNI

word count: 10,284

moodboard

Clipping your bag safely back onto your belt, you bid the kind dressmaker farewell and motion to leave her Madison Avenue boutique.

Several days ago and after a rather lengthy trip aboard a steamship across the Atlantic, you finally arrived in the hustling and bustling New York City, the city of dreams in the land of opportunity.

Over the years, you have developed quite a respectable reputation as a commissioned portrait artist for the wealthy with an admired talent that both boosts their egos as well as your own wealth. After a lifetime of travelling across the European continent, you decided to migrate to the Americas in search of a new opportunity, or rather a muse to reignite your inspiration and maybe for a little fun on the side too.

The dressmaker quickly assures you that she’ll have your clothes ready by the end of the week, a welcome relief since you’re still waiting for your remaining belongings to arrive by sea.

On your way out of the boutique, you thank her one last time, not paying attention to your surroundings and distractedly bumping into another woman with a fright.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry! Are you quite alright?” the esteemed lady apologises profusely.

You swiftly regain your bearings and brush her off. “It is no problem at all. I apologise as well for not watching where I was going,” you say guiltily.

The instant you both glance up though, she seemingly forgets about the entire ordeal. You recognise immediately the starstruck look on her face that can only mean that she somehow knows who you are, that word of your talents has already travelled across the seas through migrated aristocrats and the like.

“My word! You’re Y/N Y/L/N, aren’t you?” she asks breathlessly.

With a smirk that you try your best to mask as humble, you can’t deny the pride of being so quickly recognised in this new city.

“Indeed I am, a pleasure to make your acquaintance Ms…?”

“Agatha Harkness, dear, but my friends call me Agnes. It’s lovely to meet you,” she introduces with a shake of your extended hand. “Say, I don’t believe I heard word that you were in our fine city. And I assure you, I would have if it were known. No news gets past me. If anything, I’m always the first to know.”

You bet she is, you nod overwhelmed, quietly taking in the words of someone who is clearly a gossip.

There’s an odd and rather manic intensity about her, you notice. You brush it off as the typical artificial friendliness of the elite and especially of the nouveau riche, which you suspect Agnes is.

And yet, it still feels like something is off about her, like she’s not quite herself, a peculiar strain in her smile and an emptiness behind her eyes. How odd.

“I only arrived a few days ago, is why. All my luggage hasn’t even arrived yet.”

“I see… if that’s the case, why I don’t suppose I could commission you then? Be the first American to have their very own Y/L/N painting?” she requests giddily.

Her excitement rubs off on you, no matter how eerie, and you can’t deny her. “Well, I don’t see why not. I’ll have my people be in contact with you to sort out the details soon.”

“My, I can’t believe my luck!” she celebrates. “Oh! You must attend my gala tonight. Please, be my guest of the evening. Let me have the honour of being the one to introduce you to our society here.”

Once again, you’re charmed by her fierce enthusiasm. “Of course, the honour shall be mine.”

Frankly, you don’t really think it’ll be any different from the circles you traversed in Europe, but who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone intriguing.

—

Later that evening, long after the sun has already set, you step out of your personal carriage at Harkness Hall, located in the newer district of the Upper East Side.

Politely being escorted through the manor, you finally arrive at the ballroom and when the grand doors open, all eyes instantly land on you as you are faced with similar expressions of recognition as Agnes’. Said woman speedily and yet somehow elegantly races up the steps, rushing to your side.

Delicately tapping a fork against the side of her champagne glass, she easily silences the commotion in the crowd below. “Might I have your attention, my friends, to introduce you to my esteemed guest of the evening, the wonderfully talented Miss Y/N Y/L/N.”

As soon as she finishes, a rush of wealthy men and women alike gasp and rush to the foot of the stairs. Agnes proudly links her arm around yours, as if you were childhood friends instead of mere acquaintances, and leads you down the stairs into the pit that awaits you. For a second, and only a second, a rush of anxiety ambushes you but you mask it with some well-practiced charm.

For the next while, Agnes personally introduces you to all the socialites interested in portraits of their own, showing off the fact that she is your first client.

You quickly tire of their suffocating attention and it’s only when you peer past the crowd that you notice that one lone woman hasn’t so much as flinched at your presence, instead remaining in the shadows along the walls and gracing you with only a mere glance.

As the night rages on, you curiously observe the intriguing woman from across the ballroom. With a keen eye, you take note of her every detail. Of her deep burgundy gown so dark it almost resembles blood when illuminated in the light, of her thin black birdcage veil that covers her eyes behind the intricate lace, and committing it all to memory.

She moves with a certain refined grace you’ve only seen few nobles possess and despite primarily keeping to herself, exudes an intimidating and rather domineering aura felt throughout the hall. Only a few dare to approach her, some men who don’t know any better and a few attendants who don’t have any other choice. Every so often, she catches your gaze and you almost feel the air leave your lungs.

When the crowd eventually disperses, you pull at the link between your and Agnes’ arms and inquire about your newest interest. “Agnes, might I ask, that woman over there standing alone by the fireplace, who is she?”

“Ahh, why that would be the elusive Countess Maximoff. Our Lady Wanda hails from a distant European kingdom, or so she says. Frankly, she could be anyone from anywhere in the world considering how little we all know about her,” she briefly explains.

Countess Wanda Maximoff, you recite in your mind. A fascinating yet beautiful name for an equally as alluring woman.

“She’s a well-known and respected socialite in this city. In fact, she might even be the richest of all of us, but no one knows for sure, just as no one knows exactly what she is a Countess of,” Agnes continues, unprompted. Internally, you thank her for being so nosy.

“I must apologise, unfortunately that is really all I know about her. She was already residing in New York when I arrived from Salem many months ago,” she admits. “I do know, however, that she has no husband or family of her own. The rumours are that she had a husband once and that he either died or simply disappeared. Either way, she isn’t a typical woman of our society.”

Lost in thought, you take in her words, all serving to only interest you more and more in the stunning yet seemingly solitary woman.

“Miss Y/N,” Agnes calls, breaking you out of your intense trance as you stare at the mysterious woman. “I must tell you, Lady Maximoff is actually currently staying as a guest at Harkness Hall. For a few days now actually, and for the next while when you complete my portrait.”

Oh?

Why doesn’t that make things all the more interesting…

“Y/N, it’s best that you stay away from her. Trust me, there’s something unusual about her that one must not associate themselves with,” Agnes warns you seriously, a stark contrast from the enthusiastic and bubbly person you’ve become familiar with today.

You turn to her and look in her eyes again. For the first time today, you detect a clarity in them, a genuineness that only confuses you more.

“Agnes, may I ask, why did you accept her as a guest if you dislike her so?” you question.

“No one says no to Wanda Maximoff,” Agnes replies ominously. “Every so often, she requests to stay with one of her ‘friends’ for a short while. It turns out that this time I drew the short straw. She always has some sort of excuse, she told me that her estate is undergoing works, but I’m certain she has other properties. All I know is you don’t disobey a woman like her.”

You give some thought to Agnes’ words, to her warnings and the seeping fear that comes through. And yet, the idea of such a strange woman, defiant to the strict norms of high society, who you don’t disobey, only intrigues you more and more.

You regard the woman in red and decide in the moment that no matter what, you’re going to solve the mystery of the elusive Wanda Maximoff, even if it kills you.

Dismissing Agnes’ warnings and brushing off her arm that attempts to pull you back, you waltz across the room and beeline toward Wanda. In the corner of your eye, you spot horrified looks from the other socialites around the room, but ignore them all the same and focus only on the woman in front of you watching you approach her with an amused yet impressed eye.

And you’re glad you do because up close, the Lady Maximoff is absolutely and entirely striking, breathtaking and enchanting and every other word you would use if you were a poet instead of an artist staring at her new muse.

Her milky skin is notably pale and perfectly contrasts against her chocolate brown hair, so soft you almost want to run your hands through the layered strands. Studying her bone structure, you note that it’s incredibly sharp and accentuated by the shadows, making her resemble a sculpture carved from marble come to life. Even under the lace veil, her eyes are enchanting, a clear sage green that complements her dark maroon dress.

For the first second or two, you find yourself rather speechless, the entire English language suddenly disappearing from your vocabulary as you take in her beauty.

In the same second, you notice offhandedly that she too rakes her eyes up and down your form. Feeling a shiver run down your spine under the weight of her gaze, you hope she appreciates the sight as much as you appreciate yours.

“Hello, Y/N Y/L/N, my lady,” you manage to say and extend your hand towards her.

“I know,” she replies with a smirk, seemingly entertained by your courage (or stupidity). “You’ve been quite popular tonight, among the ladies especially. The woman of the evening I hear.”

A part of you is secretly delighted. That means she’s noticed you just as much as you’ve noticed her. The other part is dazedly captivated by the deep lilt in her accent, hinting at whichever secretive European land she originates from, a part of the mystery you seek to soon unravel.

“And whose company do I have the pleasure of being graced with, might I ask?” you tease.

In response, she simply smirks at your charming attempts and finally accepts your hand. “Countess Wanda Maximoff,” she formally introduces, “but I’m sure you already knew that too.”

Delicately, you clasp her gloved hand in yours and place an innocent kiss below the back of her silk-covered knuckles. Proudly, you earn another smile from her at the endearing impropriety of a young girl pressing a gentlemanly kiss on the back of her hand.

“You’re awfully bold, aren’t you?” she remarks with a cock of her head.

“Artists love beautiful things,” you smirk. “It just so happens I’ve found the most beautiful of all.”

She scrunches her nose as she cringes at your flirtatious attempt. You don’t regret your words though when you mean it so sincerely.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Miss Y/L/N?” she asks, skipping the pretenses. “I’m sure you’ve already heard all the things they say about me.”

“I don’t care about them and what they have to say. I’d rather hear it all from you instead,” you profess.

Peering down at her wine glass, she smiles again at your attempts to charm her. This one seems a little more genuine though, a sign that your persistence (and perhaps, foolishness) is slowly piercing through her walls.

She looks back up at you and seemingly ponders your unsaid request as she pensively sips her wine. At last, she says, “Alright then, what would you like to know?”

You grin cheekily at having so easily won her favour. “Well for starters, pray tell me, which land do you come from?”

“Europe,” she answers simply.

You both know that you already knew that, both because Agnes already told you as well as the evident hints of Slavic you identify in her accent.

“Where might one find your county of ownership though, my Countess?” you attempt to press.

“I’m sure you’d like to know,” she teases with another smirk, just as mysterious and secretive as Agnes described.

You’ve spent your entire life travelling through Europe’s High Societies, from the Parisian aristocracy to Florence’s art scene, and yet you’ve never heard of or seen her before this night. And you’d certainly remember if you did, she���s not a face one forgets.

“So, we’re playing this game, are we?”

“You started it, Miss Y/L/N,” she matches your teasing tone.

You’ve noticed that she only calls you by your name formally, keeping a distance between the two of you despite having let you in more than anyone else tonight.

You’re even more aware of all the eyes on you, watching like hawks as your interaction plays out. How odd of a pair you must be, a sight to behold you’re sure. You’re keenly aware of how you’re likely equally as intriguing and alien as she is. How your existence defies the rigid social norms; a girl of your standing able to dance through high society while working to accumulate your own wealth and remaining single at a less than conventional age. You wonder if perchance, in this way, you interest her as much as she interests you.

Clearing your throat, you decide to accept that this is as much as you’ll learn about her tonight. “Agnes tells me you’re staying as a guest at Harkness Hall,” you segue instead.

Tilting her head once again, she lifts an eyebrow in curiosity. “That would be correct.”

“As I’m sure you’ve heard by now, I have been commissioned to paint a portrait for Ms Harkness.” Gently, you once again place a kiss on the back of her resting hand. “I suppose we’ll be seeing more of each other then,” you quietly bid farewell before walking away, not turning back although you know she’s following you with a curious eye.

Later throughout the night, the other cautious elites approach you one by one, all warning you to stay away from Wanda. There’s a certain look in their eyes that you can’t quite decipher yet, resembling that of Agnes’ expression if you really think about it. Something akin to fear or intimidation or something in between and like they’re trying to tell you something they can’t say with words. Their warnings only serve to further interest you in the Countess and the mystery that surrounds her though.

Returning your gaze to the woman before you depart for the evening, you find her already staring fervently at you with a smile you can only describe as devilish. Her pearly white teeth seem to sparkle under the chandelier’s light and you swear that from this side of the ballroom, you spot a glimmer of red in her eyes under the veil.

But, when you remember her beautiful green eyes, you suppose it’s simply a trick of the light.

—

The day after the next, you return to Harkness Hall for your first session with Agnes.

The moment you step foot through the doors, you instantly search for Wanda but are dismayed to fail in your pursuit, not even hearing word of her throughout the entire day. From morning to night, while you’re painting in Agnes’ drawing room or enjoying lunch with her in the garden, you never see Wanda even once.

You suppose it’s a large estate so it’s not hard to believe that your paths wouldn’t cross, but the thought does nothing to dispel the persistent pout on your face.

You honestly try your very hardest to focus on the woman posing in front of you, but the task is near impossible. You almost want to ask Agnes about Wanda, where she is and what she’s doing, but you suppose that would be highly improper. Not that you would typically care, you’d just rather not let it be known how taken you’ve become with her.

It’s only later that evening when you walk through the estate to take your leave, around the eleventh hour after the sun has already set and the hustle and bustle of Harkness Hall has come to a standstill, that your eyes once again find the Countess’ solitary form.

Bathed in the moonlight, the Lady sits by herself in the courtyard facing away from you. You’re once again struck by her beauty. In this pure light and under the night sky, her ivory skin almost glows. You briefly ponder the idea that she could be an angel descended from the heavens above.

Seemingly sensing your presence, despite how stealthily you’d hidden yourself behind the doorway, she spins around faster than you can blink and catches you.

“Miss Y/L/N,” she remarks with a drawl and that sinisterness that makes you think that more accurately, she must be a fallen angel sent to this world by the devil himself.

Matching your intense gaze, she simply says, “Come,” beckoning you to her side.

And you obey without a single objection, padding across the courtyard and placing yourself in the seat beside her obediently.

“I heard you were here painting Agnes today,” she brings up cordially.

Your eyes drop down and you notice her drinking something in her glass that oddly looks a little too dark and thick to be wine, that leaves a deep cherry stain on her lips that would otherwise be an unusual lipstick shade. You equally notice that despite her attempts at pleasant small talk, she doesn’t make any attempts to offer you a glass of whatever it is she’s drinking.

“I was,” you affirm. “I was….” hoping to see you, you trail off and keep to yourself, not wanting to seem desperate in her eyes despite how desperate for her attention you truly are.

She smiles to herself, seemingly hearing your confession all the same. She has a way of reading you without you saying a word.

“And how are you finding it so far?”

“It’s going as well as it can. Agnes is a wonderful subject,” you share, hiding the fact that the only woman you wanted to paint today was her.

A beat of silence passes, only the soft breeze of winter heard in the space you share.

“Have you ever sat for a portrait before?” you ask.

Shaking her head thoughtfully, she answers “No, never.”

“Why, might I ask? Your beauty is one I’m sure hundreds would flock to capture on canvas and stone.”

Inwardly, she smirks at your unrelenting boldness. “Yes… be that as it may, it’s not one I’m happy to share with the world for all to see,” she answers just as cryptically as everything else she’s told you thus far.

You suspect there’s a deeper and very real reason to it, but don’t question further. You’re happy to take as much as she gives you, as little as it is.

“Would you let me paint you one day?” you ask honestly.

Wistfully, she turns to glance up at the scattered stars in the clear sky, musing on your offer. “Perhaps,” she finally turns to look at you again, “if you’re a good girl.”

A fierce blush rushes to your cheeks as she gets up and caresses your chin with her gloved hand before leaning down and placing a fleeting kiss on the very cheek reddened by her teasing. As she saunters away from you, you watch her go and dazedly wonder if whatever she was drinking left its own stain on your skin.

Only when she walks past a statement mirror in the hallway are you pulled out of your trance. You can’t see her reflection, you remark.

Confused, you give it little thought before reasoning that it must be your tired eyes playing a trick on you.

—

Over the coming days, you return to Harkness Hall for your work with Agnes and continue seeking Wanda’s company.

Every time though, you only ever locate her after the sun’s gone down or alone in some secluded space like the library or tea room with the windows shut.

This time, you lose the fight and ask Agnes about her peculiar behaviour. She tells you that the Countess typically goes out at night and only returns in the early hours of the morning. Otherwise, during the day she either slumbers until the early afternoon or rests indoors.

Agnes doesn’t quite understand it either, but she’s neither questioning it nor complaining when it makes it a little easier for her to avoid the Lady. You thank her for her explanation (gossip), but it only piques your curiosity more and more, as does everything else you learn about Wanda.

Every time you do cross her path though, she always invites you to sit with her. Most of the time, she nurses a glass of the too-dark-and-too-thick wine. You never ask for a glass of your own or a taste and she never offers.

And every time, you find yourself entranced by her beauty for at least a minute or two or typically, much more. At times, you think she must be from another world, one so delicate and divine that man cannot and must not touch it lest it be corrupted. Other times you think her beauty is simply not human and must be a form of corruption of its own. But maybe that’s just the dramatic artist in you.

You’re saddened to say that after all this time though, you still don’t know much more about her, the mystery still largely unsolved. You know that she’s rich, she’s alone, and she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on, which is essentially everything you already knew from the first night you met her.

She does occasionally share some stories with you though, of her life when she was younger in the foreign Slavic land you still haven’t identified. She tells you of growing up in a castle at the top of a mountain, of being bathed in the riches of love. “I’ve lost all the family I’ve ever known,” she confesses the next evening after you share stories of your own rough upbringing.

As always, she remains cryptically vague with every word she offers you, never giving you details and always leaving you wanting more.

Sometimes, she even reveals glimpses of her other facets like her interests and apparent appreciation for the theatre. “There’s a new musical on Broadway that I believe you’d enjoy,” she remarks offhandedly. Despite your attempts to suppress it, you feel a fluttering sensation within you at the prospect of seeing the Countess outside the walls of Harkness Hall, of even courting her if she allowed.

You’d like to think that you’re the only one honoured to hear these words from her, that you’re someone special to her as she is to you.

Other times when you come upon wherever she’s hiding and she doesn’t instantly detect you, you watch her quietly from the shadows, hiding away and observing her peaceful form. You fetch your pocket pad from the bag on your waist and roughly sketch her reading, birdwatching, embroidering or simply gazing at the night sky.

Then, you return home and paint her as accurately from memory as you can, attempting to capture her beauty with oil paints and canvas.

One day, you hope you’ll have a chance to show her how she’s become your muse and how you see her unlike anyone else.

—

Almost a week has passed since you started painting Agnes and you only know because you’ve been committing every encounter with the Lady Maximoff to memory.

Over the days, you’ve become comfortable and developed a routine of sorts for yourself. Around mid-morning, you arrive at Agnes’ manor and recommence work right away. Once noon comes, you have lunch with her in her expansive garden and enjoy tea with Wanda in the mid-afternoon if you can locate her, otherwise you greet her on your departure in the evening.

For the short while, you develop a new normal, which makes it all the weirder when a sense of unease overcomes the city and its inhabitants. From your own maids and coachmen to Agnes and the other elites you come across, everyone all of a sudden seems on edge. Almost like a blanket of doom and gloom has been laid over the city.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, it’s only Wanda who seems normal and unperturbed when you find her in her usual lounge chair in the courtyard under the moonlit sky. Once again, you obediently take the seat beside her.

Tonight, you can’t help but notice that she’s not nursing her favoured drink and if it were possible, she appears more pale than ever. You want to ask if she is well, but instead of overstepping, you decide to ask why everyone seems so off.

Pensively, she oddly smiles at your question and peer up at the sky. You follow her line of sight and see that the moon tonight is full and bright.

“Be careful, Miss Y/L/N,” is all she says as you turn to her again. There’s an unsettling look in her eye, like she knows something you don’t.

“You never know what’s hiding in the shadows, what creatures of the night lurk in the dark,” she warns ominously before turning to you and flashing a blinding smile. “One wouldn’t want something to happen to a pretty young thing like you.”

You gulp at her forbidding words and sudden predatory appearance, left only more confused and unnerved than ever. Flustered, you avert your gaze and miss the flash of crimson in her eyes.

—

The following evening, you’re half asleep in your carriage home when you abruptly realise you forgot a broken easel that you wanted to have fixed at Harkness Hall. Having requested your coachman retrieve it for you, you now patiently wait in your carriage in front of the estate.

Leaning your cheek on the window with a pout, you’re a little saddened since you didn’t see Wanda at all today, the first time it’s happened all week.

When you asked one of Agnes’ maids where the Lady was, she said she hadn’t seen Wanda all day either which meant she must’ve still been asleep since she didn’t hear her return until just before dawn. But then even on your way out a few moments ago, you still couldn’t find her in any of her usual hiding spots to your dismay. 

Staring out solemnly at the Upper East Side streets, you notice that it’s a lot quieter than usual. This district is typically much busier, even at this late hour with the wealthy enjoying their night on the town. 

However, it seems everyone is as on edge as they were the previous day. Most people have opted to stay inside with the windows shut, leaving the streets mostly empty barring a few passersby and dimly lit lamp posts. Even your coachman seemed a little less willing than usual to fulfil your request, as if he just wanted to rush the both of you home to safety. From what, you’re not too sure.

Sleepily, you lift your gaze and stare at the moon, slightly fuller and even brighter than it was the night before, having just reached the peak of its cycle. 

You admire its alluring beauty for a brief second until something in the alley across the road from your carriage catches your eye; a lone man and woman hidden in the shadows. You think they must be one of the only people who don’t fear what everyone else does to be lingering in the darkness like this. 

Intrigued, you study the pair when something strikes you. The woman throws her head back laughing and you catch a glimpse of her canines, so pearly and sharp you’re almost sure they look like fangs.

It’s only when you narrow your eyes and the woman leans forward out of the shadows into the light that you realise with a start, it’s Wanda.

—

When the sun rises and morning comes, you wake up safe in your bed but just as shaken.

With the calming of your heart, you reason that the events of the night before must have been a dream or even a hallucination of your tired mind. But you’ve been making the same excuse a lot lately and the image is etched so realistically in your memory it must be real.

In a daze, you ready yourself for the day and go to the dining room for the breakfast awaiting you. Perhaps some food in your stomach will wake you up from whatever this is, you think.

You’re distractedly munching on some berries when your handmaiden enters the room with a boiled kettle for your morning tea. It seems that the water isn’t the only thing bubbling this morning though.

“Miss! Have you heard the news?” she asks worriedly.

“I can’t say I have,” you answer, shaking your head. “What appears to have happened?”

“My, there’s been a murder! In an alley near Harkness Hall!”

Your blood instantly runs cold and you freeze like a bucket of cold water has been thrown on you.

“W-what?”

“A young man in his early 20s, foolish enough to stay out late on a full moon. They say his body was otherwise unmarked except for two puncture wounds in his neck. The sheriffs think it’s the Moonlit Killer again!” she frantically explains, every word striking your shaky bones.

“The Moonlit Killer?” you whisper to yourself in thought. “Who is that?”

“The city, no the state’s, very own serial killer, miss! No one knows who it is and they haven’t been caught yet, but for over a year now there have been murders across New York every full moon,” she tells you, the kettle completely forgotten as well as your breakfast which you know for certain you can no longer stomach with the tightening of your throat.

“The victims always match each other too, always young men taken in dark alleys and left with only two punctures in their necks.”

Like fangs…, you piece together.

It all makes sense now, why everyone was so on edge with the arrival of the full moon.

Quietly, you think back to what you witnessed last night. You’re sure it was Wanda. You would recognise her anywhere, in a crowded ballroom or even a… dark alleyway.

An image forms in your mind and you quickly race to your studio, ignoring the concerned calls of your handmaiden. You pull out a fresh canvas and your brushes and you paint and paint and paint.

You paint Wanda’s unusually pale ivory skin. You paint her red irises that you’ve seen on occasion. And lastly, you paint the sharp fangs you saw last night that lie where any other person’s canines would.

Once you’ve finished, you step back to take in your rough portrait and drop your brush in shock.

It can’t be…

You’ve only heard tales of them during your travels when instances similar to last night’s rocked the cities you visited. You’ve only seen frightening drawings of them in books that told farfetched legends of the undead.

Creatures of the night, skin as pale as the moon, pearly white fangs as sharp as blades, and most of all, eyes the colour of scarlet.

Everything suddenly makes sense now, pieces fall into place as the mystery is finally solved.

The glasses she’s always drinking of some liquid that looks too dark and thick to be wine must have been blood all this time and her main source of sustenance since you’ve never seen her eat a single crumb.

The way she oddly sleeps during the day and always shies away from sunlight, because if she didn’t she would quite literally be burned.

How you’re sure you’ve never seen her reflection in mirrors or water or windows because she doesn’t in fact have a soul to reflect.

Why no matter how much you asked around or researched about the elusive Countess, you could never obtain any information dating back earlier than over a year ago, precisely when the Moonlit Killer started taking their victims.

And how you’re certain that if you matched the homes of the other aristocrats she stayed with to the locations of the killings, it would all line up perfectly.

Countess Maximoff is… a vampire.

With the realisation, you’re filled with frightening clarity, both proudly smug at having unearthed her secret and slightly fearful at the true nature of the woman you’ve become enamoured of. Foolishly, you thought it was your eyes playing tricks or simple coincidences, but it’s too much to be.

For a second, you even think you must be going crazy to be entertaining this thought. Wanda… the beautiful, alluring, and bewitching woman… is a vampire. A monster? How could someone so enchanting be so horrific, though? So cruel…

But then you remember the old wives’ tales about sirens and succubi and creatures of sin that seduce and corrupt with their otherworldly beauty and frankly, now you’re only more sure of your discovery.

And that’s when it hits you… there’s only one way to test your theory.

—

That evening, you put your plan into motion. You haven’t much time. You figure in a few days she’ll announce her departure from Harkness Hall and return to her estate until she has to hunt for the next full moon, so why wait to confirm something you’re already so sure of.

In the dead of night, you pad through her designated wing and sneak into her bedchambers, awaiting her eventual return in the early morning. Earlier, you sent your carriage home with a feigned excuse and listened carefully to confirm that Agnes had retired for the evening.

Making yourself comfortable on Wanda’s loveseat, you patiently survey the door and await her arrival, alone in the dark room lit only by a few ruby candles and the bright moonlight.

In the Winter night, you feel the cool breeze on your exposed skin and shiver, pulling your coat tighter around you. Beneath it, you wear nothing but a lace blood red nightgown that leaves your neck bare in hopes of enticing her.

As expected, she’s absent for most of the evening, you assume too preoccupied with hunting her prey. Tonight, the moon is at the absolute peak of its cycle. Her lust for blood must be uncontrollable, but the thought only excites you more.

You almost fall asleep against your hand propped up on the armrest when finally, sometime between the second and third hour, you hear a shuffle outside the door that instantly wakes you.

Creaking, the door opens to reveal the Countess you’ve been waiting for, clad in a black hooded cloak and dark burgundy dress. Dark enough to conceal any bloodstains, you realise.

You suspect the city will awake to news of another victim at the hand of the Moonlit Killer, but that’s for whatever awaits you after the sun rises. Right now, you have your mystery standing in front of you, surprised to say the least to see you in her bedchambers and especially at this hour.

In the dimly lit room, you can barely see her if it weren’t for her skin that seemingly glows under the moonlight and the fleeting glint of red in her eyes that show themselves when she lifts off her hood and removes her cloak.

She’s as beautiful to you now as she was before you knew what kind of creature she really is. The thought leaves you as breathless as the sight of her. You think you would have fallen for her no matter who, or rather what, she is.

Fully facing your standing figure now, she smirks, knowing that there is something different about you tonight and this encounter. A sense of pride fills you at her sinister expression.

“Miss Y/L/N, what a surprise to find you here. Have you gotten lost in the middle of the night, sweet thing? Sleepwalked from the other side of the city, perchance?” she asks playfully. There’s a hint of something new in her tone, something a little demeaning. You can’t say you hate it. No… not at all.

“No, my lady. There is something I wish to discuss with you.”

She simply lifts an eyebrow in response, signalling you to continue while she hangs up her cloak and only offers you part of her attention. You almost want to beg to have all of it.

“I’ve been watching you,” you admit.

“I know you have. And what have you so skillfully unearthed, Miss Y/L/N?”

With a nervous gulp, you confess, “I know your secret, what you hide from the others.” Her ears seem to perk up with interest at your admission, but she’s still unsettlingly calm about the revelation.

“I know why you sleep during the day and what you do during the night. I know why you avoid sunlight at all costs and why no one seems to know anything about you. I know what you are.”

At last, she turns to you and gives you her full and complete attention. As much as you previously desired it, you quickly find yourself wilting under the weight of her stare.

Crossing the room in three strides, she stands face-to-face before you. “Oh? And pray tell, what exactly am I?” she teases and finally unveils the true scarlet hue of her eyes with a tilt of her head, equally as stunning as the green if not more bewitching.

It leaves you in a state of vulnerable immobility like prey trapped in the clutch of its predator and you pull at the sleeves of your coat in an attempt to regain your courage. Distantly, you wonder if perhaps there’s more to her species that the myths don’t yet know about, that perhaps she wields sinister abilities to influence the mind which would explain the eerie nature of Agnes’ facade.

“You’re… you’re a…”

Intimidatingly, she stalks to you in a few weightless steps almost like a bat. Delicately pulling her satin gloves off and haphazardly tossing them to the wooden floor, she reveals her long sharp nails, claws really.

Getting closer in your space now, she takes your chin between her thumb and index finger and tilts your head up to face her, the chilled skin of a soulless body sends shivers through your bones.

Menacingly, she grins, no leers, at you and detracts her fangs, glistening in the moonlight and bared for you to see. Up close, it strikes you with an immediate fear, but also something equally as exciting that leaves a tightening sensation deep in your belly.

“Say it,” she whispers, her cool breath against your lips and sending a chill down your spine.

With a gulp, you finally bring yourself to say out loud, “You’re a vampire.”

If it were somehow possible, her grin grows even wider and more sinister and you briefly think that she might just eat you alive.

“Good girl, I knew you were a smart one the second I laid my eyes on you.” The term of praise, as proud as you are to have received it, only intensifies that feeling in your belly and for the first time this evening, you question if you’re actually capable of surviving a night with the vampire Countess.

Patting your cheek with her other hand and cocking her head amusedly, Wanda continues. “Although, you were foolish enough to have come here alone and approached me like this.”

Maybe she’s right…

“No one would know if I killed you right here and now. No one would even hear you scream before I sank my teeth in your neck.”

Or maybe, that’s exactly what you want from her.

In a heartbeat, you instantly regain all your confidence. You know her secret and you came here for a reason. It’s time to claim what you’re owed, what you came to this city searching for.

Hastily, you untie your coat and drop it to the floor, revealing your barely clothed body to her stunned eyes. A rush of excitement goes through your veins at the sight of her dilated pupils, a telling sign that she just might desire you as much as you desire her.

Placing your own hands atop the ones she still rests on your face, you confess, “I want to be yours.” She lifts her eyebrow in curiosity at your proposition. “You don’t need to feed on other people, or hunt when you’re desperate anymore… You can just feed on me.”

For the first time ever, you hear her laugh, throwing her head back with her imposing fangs on full display. A deep and maniacal sound that’s degrading and humiliating as you stand there before her exposed and yet, you decide you’d do anything to hear it again.

It takes a second or two for her to regain her composure and you think you spot tears in her eyes, only further reddening your blushing cheeks.

“You know,” she says in between huffed laughter. “I typically only drink animal blood, as I’m sure you’ve seen on occasion. It’s a lot more… convenient and certainly a lot less messy. But the real reason,” she confesses, whispering almost secretively as her ruby coloured irises stare into your blown out pupils, “is that blood from a human source is dangerously addictive. That’s why I only feed on humans on days like this when the moon’s pull is too strong. Because everyone I drink from ends up dead and somehow, I just know that if I drank yours… well I’d be addicted for eternity.”

But what if that’s exactly what you want?

Blindly reaching towards a nearby table, you grab what feels like a glass and smash it against the surface, successfully slicing your left palm and sending drops of blood rolling down your skin.

In the same heartbeat, Wanda instantly freezes, her enhanced sense of smell immediately picking up the intoxicating scent of your blood. Tightly closing her eyes and letting go of her hold on you, she takes two steps back from you, seemingly struggling to restrain herself.

Fearlessly, you take two steps towards her, crowding her space just as she crowded yours.

“Let go,” you tempt, lifting your bleeding hand in an attempt to flood her senses and lure her further into your trap. “Let me be yours,” you whisper teasingly into her ear.

In a second, her eyes burst open, now blazing scarlet and burning into you. Roughly, she wraps her hand around your throat and pushes you against the nearest wall, uncaring of how you wince at the strength with which she slams you.

Just as harshly, she finally kisses you, her icy lips meeting yours and moving against each other as one as she almost devours you in her eagerness. And just as eagerly, you let her, drowning in the rush of losing yourself in something so wrong that feels so right.

The cautiousness with which she treated you before has completely disappeared as she dangerously tightens her grip around your throat, claiming your lips over and over again.

In her lust-clouded haste, her sharp fangs faintly slice your bottom lip and you quickly start bleeding with a wince that’s promptly muffled by her soft lips. Her greedy tongue licks it all up and you’re blessed with her deep moans at the rich and teasing taste.

To your dismay, she pulls away and releases her grip on your throat. But when you look in her bloodshot eyes, pupils blown and glittering in the moonlight, you’re thrilled to see a complete lack of resistance, a surrender to the offer you’ve presented.

And yet, there’s a hidden question in them, if you’re really willing to cross this line with her. In the back of your mind, you wonder that perhaps you're the first person who’s ever shared this secret of hers, who's ever willingly given themselves to her.

You hope to be the only.

Without saying a word, you simply crane your awaiting neck towards her, offering the expanse of it to her on a golden platter.

“I’m yours,” you whisper into the night for only her to hear.

In the blink of an eye, she becomes a predator before you. Still trapped between her body and the wall, you watch in equal amounts of fear and lust as she bares her fangs and sinks them into your naked neck.

You scream in pain and tightly scrunch a hand in her hair until, almost like you're hearing yourself outside of your body, you realise that your screams have become moans, the pain in your neck abruptly replaced by pleasure racing through your bloodstream.

“Mine,” you hear her snarl in between your moans and you only barely manage to yell, “Yours”, back.

Wanda is equally disarmed as she buries her face in your neck. She drinks and drinks and drinks, and as predicted, loses herself in you. It’s a criminal understatement to say that your blood is the best she’s ever tasted in her centuries-long life and endless list of victims. It’s rich and thick and if you hadn’t already offered to become her pet for eternity, she would have stolen you away anyway.

She revels even more in the sounds of your very evident pleasure, which when mixed with her instant addiction to your taste leaves a tight sensation in her core.

As she continues feasting on you, she slots a knee between your open legs and tightly grips your waist in her hands, harshly thrusting you down on her leg and surely leaving bruises in her wake. Eagerly, you grind against her firm thigh, head lolling back and hitting the wall with a resounding thud.

Somehow, your unabashed moans get even louder as you feel your blood starting to drip across your chest. Distantly, you consider that maybe you should quieten yourself lest someone hear of your tryst, but that thought swiftly disappears when Wanda presses her knee against your core while pushing you down to grind against it and deepening her fangs in your neck.

She’s everywhere. Pressed against you, piercing you with her teeth, becoming one with you. Suddenly, the overwhelming sensations become too much and you come undone in her arms, climaxing unexpectedly from the equally consuming mix of pleasure and pain.

In a lust- and blood-drunk daze, Wanda takes little notice of your state and attempts to keep drinking every ounce of the red liquid left in your body. She feels you start to loosen your hold on her hair and slacken against her thigh though, so she reluctantly stops lest she loses her pet as quickly as she got her.

Regrettably, she pulls away from you but you’re glad she keeps her knee between your legs because you immediately slump against her from an exhaustive combination of the severe blood loss and intense climax.

Surprisingly tenderly, she captures you in her arms and holds you up against her and the wall. You take a second to regain your breath as your heart races to pump more blood through your veins.

“That was…” you trail off, dazed and half struggling to hold on to consciousness.

“Delicious,” she finishes for you.

You eventually manage to open your eyes and watch her sadly remove a hand from your waist to wipe your blood from her mouth with the pad of her thumb, serving to only spread it across her face even more.

The sight is more arousing than it should be and as you stare at her, you discover that with her porcelain moonlit skin, scarlet coloured eyes, snow white fangs, and mouth covered in your dark blood, she’s the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen.

In the haze of the afterglow, your gaze lowers to her bloody lips and you briefly wonder how you taste. Somehow reading your thoughts as she always does, she places a surprisingly soft kiss on your lips and you’re equally surprised by the taste of your blood on her lips. It’s different from what you expected, not as jarringly metallic as when you bite the inside of your cheek but rather smooth and rich like a well-aged wine.

As you deepen the kiss searching for more, she returns the eagerness by tracing the surface of your lips with her tongue, easily parting them and entering your mouth. Distracting you with the feel of your tongues swirling against each other, she sneakily reaches behind your back and unties the fragile bow tying your nightgown together.

Pulling away, she lets the sheer fabric fall in a heap to the floor and leaves you chasing her lips like a lovesick fool. You feel even more foolish when you look up and find her staring intensely at your entirely exposed body while she remains fully clothed, almost moving to wrap your arms around your bare chest in an attempt to hide yourself from her scrutiny.

Just as quickly though, she captures your wrists and traps them beside you against the wall. “Don’t hide from me. You’re mine now, pet,” she whispers in her criminally deep voice.

Not to mention her apparent assignment of a new title for you, a stark contrast from the formal way with which she has been regarding you until now. A fierce blush rises to your cheeks at her choice and when combined with the sound of her voice, you think you could come from the short sentence alone.

Softly and slowly with all the time in the world, or at least the few hours left before the sun awakes, she places delicate kisses across your shaking body. Her icy cold touch cools every inch of your burning skin that it contacts, along the curve of your jawline up to the space below your ear, down your neck and especially taking care to lick your puncture wounds clean before travelling across your chest and licking up any blood that previously escaped her.

Taking your left nipple in her awaiting mouth, she latches on and sucks greedily before switching to the right. You squirm and try to free your hands wanting to touch her, but her bruising grip around your wrists unrelenting keeps you trapped. If she notices you continue to painfully twist yourself in her grasp anyway in an attempt to amass more marks as proof of her ownership of you, she doesn’t utter a single word.

A second later, she withdraws from your body and sighs against your wet skin, which when coupled with her chilled touch and the cool winter night leaves you shuddering with goosebumps.

Stepping back from you entirely now, she reaches behind herself and undoes her own dress. When it falls to the floor, so does your jaw as you shamelessly stare at the pale expanse of her skin, almost completely unblemished and illuminated by the moonlight.

You carefully place your hands on the curves of her waist, hidden beneath her burgundy corset. For a brief moment, she lets you admire her body like an artist admires their muse before she gets impatient and turns around in your arms.

Pulling her hair to her front, she demands, “Won’t you lend me a hand, pet?”

Wordlessly and obediently, you unlace her corset while leaving delicate kisses behind her ear and along her neck. She buries her hand in your hair and you almost let out a moan from the way she tugs at it. Under your breath, you curse the corset for being so intricate as your shaking hands struggle against the detailed binds.

Luckily for you though, it finally becomes undone and drops to the floor with the rest of your clothes. With your hands returning to her waist again, now soft and bare, you turn her around to face you and almost collapse.

You’re not sure how it’s possible, but she continues to take your breath away. She’s more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen in your lifelong travels. More than any of the marble Grecian sculptures or oil paintings of Aphrodite.

Just as she did, you take your time peppering kisses over her ivory and cool skin. You gently kiss every inch from right under her jawline to the dips of her collarbones and down along her chest to the mole of her left breast, from the curve of her shoulder down to the edge of her fingers and even lightly sucking your blood off her thumb.

Delicately, you devote yourself to kissing her perfect skin marked only by a few moles littered across her body, mapping them like constellations, and licking away any of your blood that stains the porcelain surface of her chin and neck.

Here and there, when you get to a particularly sensitive spot like the space under her jawline, she writhes in your arms and lets out a breathless gasp. You continue sucking on the same spot lightly, proudly drawing pleasure out of her as she did with you, but only lightly and not harsh enough to mark her flawless skin.

Internally, you think you could spend an eternity worshipping her body if she let you. You wouldn’t mind all the pain if you had the pleasure of being hers.

As you take your time exploring her body, her thin patience finally runs out and she roughly wraps your hair around her hand, pushing you down to exactly where she needs you.

“On your knees, pet,” she demands breathlessly and you instantly obey, falling to your knees with a thud and ignoring the bruising pain, proudly collecting more evidence of your tryst.

Diligently, you continue trailing your kisses down between the centre of her chest and her taut stomach until you reach her core, which you brazenly pass in favour of nibbling her inner thigh.

Roughly yanking your hair though, Wanda makes her annoyance known. “Oh, don’t be like that now, sweetheart. I thought it was clear who’s in charge here,” she bends down and sneers in your face.

“‘Mm sorry…” you frantically nod and apologise while keeping the enticing idea of disobeying and testing her patience in the back of your mind for another time. Right now, though, you desperately want to taste her.

Lifting her leg over your shoulder, she increases your accessibility or rather traps you and pushes your head back towards her centre.

“Be a good pet now won’t you, darling?”

You don’t need to be told twice, swiftly diving in between her thighs. You’re pleasantly delighted to feel how wet for you she already is, probably since the moment she sank her teeth in your neck.

Burying yourself against her core, you greedily part her folds with your tongue and lap up all her juices. Immediately drunk on her taste, you moan against her and the resounding vibrations apparently stimulate her even more as she whimpers above you and tightens her grip on your hair.

As you eagerly stroke your tongue against her pussy and brush your nose against her clit, you decide that between her legs must be the best place on Earth. And if anything, you so quickly become addicted to her sweet essence just as she was with your rich blood.

Almost crazed, you both want her everywhere and to be all over her, meticulously switching between placing kitty licks between her folds and latching onto her bulb.

Losing herself in you, Wanda somehow pushes the back of your head even deeper against her and bucks against your face. “Good girl… just like that,” she murmurs.

If your mouth wasn’t so preoccupied, you would’ve begged her to pull your hair harder.

Glancing up as you devour her, you realise that she truly is a fallen angel sent from the depths of hell to corrupt you. As you stare at her lust hazed eyes and domineering form stalked over you, you find yourself getting pleasure just from her pleasure alone.

You think that whether she suffocated you between her thighs or sucked out all your blood with her fangs in your neck, you’d be honoured to die by her hand.

With her moans getting louder and her body writhing above you, you catch on to her rapidly increasing need for more and raise your right hand to rub her clit with the pads of two fingers.

Catching her off guard, you swiftly thrust the same two fingers between her folds and earn a blissed out scream. You fit perfectly inside her as she clenches around you, sending a tightening sensation to your own core.

Latching onto her clit with your mouth again while your fingers slide in and out of her, you proudly smile against her at the tightening grip on your hair.

“Faster,” she manages to demand and you once again obey, pistoning your fingers in and out of her even faster and setting a ruthless rhythm. Soon after, your fingertips locate her g-spot so you curl the ends of your two fingers, hitting the spot with every thrust.

As you watch her, you notice that her hands are preoccupied with gripping the back of your head in pleasure and her bedpost in an attempt to stay standing.

With so much of her immaculate body shamefully left unattended, you reach your sliced hand back up her still cool body and cup her breast. As you massage the supple mound, the pain of the fresh cut stings your skin but you hear yourself whimper in time with her own moans.

You’re everywhere and the stimulation of your touch starts to make Wanda go crazy. Releasing her hold on your hair, she glides it down your back and scratches the skin below your shoulders with her claws in an attempt to pull you even closer.

Shuddering against her, you wince at the pain but proudly add the scratches to your long list of scars from tonight.

With her hand on your back, she feels you pathetically grind down against nothing and decides to take pity on you, placing her foot below your core. Finally getting some much needed friction, you rub yourself against her in a frenzy and practically ride her foot.

In a daze, she peers down at you and is entranced by the sight of you on your knees for her, looking up obediently at her with doe-like eyes, your face covered in her juices and skin covered in bite marks and hickeys she placed haphazardly, all while servicing her every demand and devoting yourself to her every need.

Unable to hold herself back anymore, she climaxes. Feeling her clench around your fingers and hearing her scream, you quickly follow and come against her foot. Bewitched, you see her arch her back in satisfaction and let her ride out her high against your face.

Once she calms down, you greedily lick up all her cum and clean up her centre just as you did with your blood on her skin. When your mission is complete and she pushes you away, overstimulated by your persistent touch, you stare into her eyes as you slide the same two fingers that were just inside her mere second ago into your own mouth, sucking them clean and taking care to not leave even a single drop.

If it were possible, her already blown out pupils dilate even more as she watches the show you put on for her. Pulling you up with a strength that’s probably owed to her inhumane cells, she tugs you into a kiss once again, tasting her essence on your tongue just as you did with your blood on hers.

Fitting your waist in her hands again, she hastily throws you on her bed before straddling your hips and pressing you against the mattress. She wastes no time and leans down to reclaim your lips, carelessly letting her fangs nick your lips again.

In the corner of your sleepy eyes, you see the glowing moonlight illuminate the stars in the night sky outside, the sun still a lifetime away. For this next little while, all that matters is the cool feel of her touch against your scorched skin and the pleasure of the pain she brings.

For under the full moon, you are completely and irrevocably hers; a vampire’s pet for better or worse.

[five-bi-five-mind]

PLEASE MAKE SUGAR MOMMY!WANDA. It can be when she already left Westview and is now living a lonely life alone missing her children. Then there goes new neighbor R who just left home and is struggling financially OMG!

I loved every single one of your Wanda fics and I'll never shut up about it 👀

Everything Again

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff & fem!Reader

Genre: Smut & Dark-ish fic

Words: 8K+

Summary: Wanda has nothing in her life that brings her joy once she let go of Westview, but then she meets you. She makes sure to be everything you want and need, and you’re all she needs… for a while. But what happens when some of her wants from Westview come creeping back? Can Wanda suppress it or will she do whatever it takes to have everything she wants again?

Warnings: light stalking, not the healthiest relationship, Wanda is controlling, toxic!Wanda, mind manipulation, top!Wanda, bottom!R, rough sex, magic strap-on, slight breeding kink, degradation, magic restraints, light choking, slight dubcon, maybe possibly unknown risk of pregnancy but no actual pregnancy.

A/N: I hate this title but I couldn't think of a better one... Anyways I kinda took a dark turn with this request that's my bad. Enjoy folks!

When Wanda saw you, she knew she had to have you. It was like the stars aligned all of a sudden and a splash of color came into her bleak world for once since leaving Westview. She’d been wandering all over since that… incident. All she felt for months was this horrible, nagging, hollowness and she had no idea how to solve it. Part of her wondered if she filled this void with something to at least stave off the boredom, maybe it would be better. But so far, her only method of occupying her time was figuring out the scope of her power. And every time she dabbled with that it just felt like the hole inside her ripped open even deeper. 

She had made her way to a small college town when she bumped into you. Or, more accurately, when you smacked into her, your eyes glued to your phone at the time. When your body collided with Wanda’s she felt anger bubble inside her for a moment and that familiar tingle at her fingertips as she decided how she might act in response to your inconsideration.  But when your panicked eyes looked up at hers, suddenly it was like the fuse inside her was doused with ice cold water. 

Wanda couldn’t help but smirk at your immediate apologetic response once you realized you were now fully pressed against an utter stranger. At the time, you were so panicked over the email you had just received that you forgot to look up. But when you felt strong hands bracing your elbows as you hit another person’s body like hitting a brick wall, it brought you crashing into reality. The guilt and embarrassment you felt were burning on your cheeks, but the eyes that met yours were only angry for a brief moment. After yours locked with hers they shifted from anger to surprise and then, curiously enough for the both of you, to intrigue. 

“I– I am so sorry,” you sputtered as you attempted to take a step back. Key word there was attempted. To your confusion, the woman in front of you didn’t seem to want to let go. 

It surprised Wanda too, but not in a bad way. The moment she heard your voice things lit up even more. That splash of color turned into a sea and she didn’t want to let go just yet. Her hands wrapped tighter around your elbows and for a moment she didn’t even care that it could possibly startle you. She just knew that for some odd reason, having you, this wide-eyed, terrified random girl she bumped into on the street, was bringing part of her back to life in a way. 

“Are you okay?” Wanda still didn’t let go. If anything, she pulled you ever so slightly closer as she swore she could feel your heartbeat like crazy against her own chest.  

“Oh, um, yes.” You again attempted to take a step back. “Thank you, um…”

“Wanda,” she replied and finally dropped her hold on you. It didn’t go unseen– the disappointed frown she had for a moment as you took a wide step back. 

“Wanda,” you echoed. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve watched where I was going. Are you alright?” Your head tilted and your eyebrows scrunched as you asked her that and Wanda was taken aback for a moment that you even thought to ask. It had been so long since she was asked anything if she were being honest.

“What made you so distracted?” Wanda ignored your question and chose to ask one of her own. She didn’t even know you, but she realized she suddenly wanted to learn everything about you, starting with what had you so wrapped up in a tiny screen that you ran straight into another human being. 

“Oh…” Your eyes dropped to the ground and Wanda took note of the way you shuffled nervously in front of her. “Um, nothing just– It wasn’t something that should’ve distracted me like that. I’m sorry for running into you.” You were trying to go at this point. The way this stranger was looking at you had you anxious and you had no idea why. The fact that she was also asking you this rather than just going on her own way also made you feel self-conscious and scrutinized by the woman before you. 

Wanda just blinked back at you, the frown on her face showing yet again for a moment. Your eyes searched hers and the confusion in them grew. Did this total stranger really want to know your business? If you were to say it out loud to her, surely you would seem pathetic. But she still stood, waiting for you to answer what was so important that you completely missed the person standing still as you walked right into her.

“Okay,” you sighed, “I got an email about my funding. I’m a– Or I guess was a student here. My funding got pulled. No funding means no grad school… So I have to figure that out, I guess.” 

There was a moment of silence as Wanda just stared down at you. Her facial expression was impossible to read for a moment. It was pensive, almost neutral and you waited for any sort of response to her. 

“I’ll figure it out,” you continued for whatever reason. Trying to fill the silence as Wanda just kept staring. “There’s other programs, other schools. I can apply again.”

“I’m sure it will all work out,” Wanda finally said. She put her hand on your shoulder for a moment, trailing it over you as she finally began to walk past you. When her hand left you and she went her own way, you just stood there stunned. 

You thought that encounter with her would plague your mind for days, but as if a switch had flipped suddenly that strangeness that was filling your mind faded into nothing.

—---------------------------------

That encounter may have left you utterly confused, but to Wanda it made things so clear. She finally had a plan, something to do. She was wandering aimlessly since Westview with nothing to fill the time. She had said she would find her children again in some dimension, somewhere, but for she had no real leads. She was losing hope, she was spiraling– That is until you bumped into her.

The gears in Wanda’s mind began to turn the minute you confessed to why you were so distracted that fateful day. And ever since then, she was going to put a plan into motion. First, she had to learn just a little bit more about you. But it wouldn’t do if you suddenly left the place she had found you in, so she tweaked some things. Starting with an anonymous donation to your department (of which she found quite quickly from just a few days of watching you) so that they might be able to fund their graduate students– Specifically you– and that you might be able to stay and continue your research and studies while she worked on a way to draw you closer to her. 

After a few weeks of watching you, she quickly learned that despite her donation, they didn’t give you enough funding to comfortably live on. You ran from job to job when you weren’t on campus studying and Wanda quickly decided, if you were to be her new fixation, then having multiple jobs would not do. You had her undivided attention, so now she wanted the majority of yours. She decided you could have your studies, but the rest of you… The rest of you she was going to make hers. 

It only took her a few more weeks after watching you carefully to approach you again. One thing about her new powers was that, rather than captivating a whole town like she did with Westview, she could easily– and with a lot less catastrophic damage– erase a small part of people’s memories. Namely, their memory that Wanda even existed in the first place. It wasn’t possible for the whole world to forget her, but a small college town she definitely could handle. Just another reason to keep you inside this town and not let you wander much further. With her handle on this new aspect of her own power, she took it one step further with you, erasing the very first day you two met. That day would always replay in Wanda’s mind, but she knew it confused and frightened you and she needed to paint herself in the best light possible when she finally approached you face-to-face again.

It was quite easy to approach you this time too. She posed as a professor in your own university. She twisted and turned the minds of the university until it was as if she had been there a long time. An established part of a university department outside of your own. She knew your schedule too, so she knew that you would always sit at the corner of the university coffee shop for about an hour in between classes. That’s where she finally approached you– or, to be more accurate, she made you approach her.

She almost felt bad about it, but at the same time she knew it would be her way in. She knew your eyes would be buried in a book as you walked to your usual spot and she used that moment to use an invisible force to trip you. And, like the knight in shining armor she wanted to appear to you as, she swooped in front of you and caught you skillfully. 

The first look you gave her was back on your face this time too. The panic and embarrassment that burned in your cheeks as you looked up at your savior was evident on your face. Wanda gave you the best, charming smile she could muster, but if you were being honest it made you feel almost as if you were a fly that landed right in a spider’s web. 

“Are you okay?” Wanda said the same line to you and you nodded, immediately trying to apologize like last time. 

Wanda knew by now that this was your personality. You were shy and anxious, but also patient and kind. All the things that were the opposite of how she considered herself and all the things that had her captivated by you. 

“Yeah, I– I’m good,” you again tried to step back and this time Wanda let you. “I’m so sorry! Thank you for catching me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Wanda chuckled as her hands fell to her sides. “What are you reading? Must be interesting.” The crooked smile she gave you was what finally drew you in. It was charming and warm and the way her eyes sparkled had you wanting to see more. When Wanda took in the wide, curious eyes looking back at her she knew she had you. 

And that was really all it took for her to wrap you up in her web and never let you go.

—------------------------------------------------

In the following months things happened rather quickly. After the day you had officially met Wanda, you saw her way more often. She would always sit near you at the coffee shop, or bump into you on other parts of campus, until finally you two established a date. And from that date things happened even quicker. It was like you blinked and suddenly your whole life was wrapped up in Wanda’s. You quickly said goodbye to your rundown, tiny apartment and moved into Wanda’s extravagant house right outside of town. Instead of taking the city bus to and from campus, she was driving you whenever and wherever you needed to go. There was now a lot more free time in your life to focus on both your studies and this new relationship you found yourself in with Wanda, as she had insisted you quit your job. That she would take care of every single one of your wants and needs. And how could you say no to that? Although, it was all a little too fast for your comfort, if you were being honest, but at the same time it was Wanda… You couldn’t picture your life without her from the very moment you met her and she made it clear that she intended for you to never find out what it would be like without her in it. 

She took care of you, she took care of everything. You needed only to focus on two things: her and school. Wanda loved the passion you had for studying, so she let you keep one thing outside of her. But she was still near, even if you weren’t aware. She was always near. 

But as months stretched on and her attachment to you became even stronger, things shifted a bit. She was feeling… anxious. The life she had back in Westview began to pop up in her mind again and she felt that hole inside her chest once more– The one that you had filled when she first saw you. There was only one part of her Westview life that kept running through her mind though. It wasn’t Vision. No, it was never Vision. Not when she had you. You were a brighter light in her life than Vision ever had been. A deeper love that felt soft and gentle, even if she had orchestrated a lot of events in order to make the two of you happen. 

Vision wasn’t what kept her up lately. It was her boys. There were dreams of them, flashes of them in her daily life. It was almost as if the more she loved you, the more she missed them. You had healed this wound, but in the nights that you wrapped your arms around her and fell asleep, she felt that familiar tug she had in Westview– the one that longed for a family. A life of peace and completeness. That made the wound feel fresh again. 

So Wanda began to withdraw. She wasn’t going to let you go, but for now, as she contemplated these feelings and how to fix them, she needed time and distance. Each time you smiled at her, each time you kissed her, that tug in the pit of her stomach felt stronger and stronger. The longing grew– The thought of recreating a Westview with you was tempting. But she knew how well that worked out last time. 

Late at night when this longing grew particularly strong, Wanda would sneak away when you were fast asleep to contemplate her options. She had hoped that you wouldn’t notice her withdrawal, but when your whole world was Wanda… How could you not? 

As these days of dealing with a withdrawn Wanda stretched on, you were getting restless. Something was clearly bothering Wanda and it was causing a rise of anxiety in you. At first you tried to approach it gently, but Wanda iced you out. The problem grew and Wanda warned you not to poke at it, but you couldn’t just leave it be. 

With your life being filled with Wanda now– Her withdrawing left you painfully lonely. So you began pushing unspoken limits Wanda set for you. Fights started and time and time again Wanda would shut you down. 

The more she did so, the more it felt she was putting you on the shelf. Like you were her little play thing and she was bored of you. There was an ache in you that you didn’t quite understand and the more confusion she left you with the closer you were to being utterly done. How you could even live without Wanda, you weren’t sure, but you were almost a little tempted to figure it out. 

There was no way you could ever leave Wanda, though. You didn’t want to, even if she was withdrawn, you still loved her deeply. But you wanted attention, acknowledgement, anything. 

Unfortunately for you, the only way you knew how to get that was to push her buttons more and more each day. 

You had no idea what was going through Wanda’s mind, but she had been particularly aggravated lately. What you didn’t know was that Wanda was stuck in trying to find the solution to the feelings that were plaguing her. She had played with an idea, but knew that in order to do so she would out her true nature and risk the memories she took from you to come flooding back. What would you do then, if you remembered who Wanda was? Her name was all over the news and the whole world knew she had fallen far from where she was when she helped the avengers. That was so long ago to Wanda. It was a different time, a different her. One that didn’t know her potential and didn’t know her own heart until she finally found all the pieces. 

The problem was, she’s never had all those pieces all at the same time. She wanted you and her boys. She wanted the picture perfect family that she had in Westview, but she wanted it with you this time. She wanted you as her little housewife and mother of her twins. In the past week she had been engrossed in ways to make that happen. She had a theory that if she tried to create her children again it would be the same children she once had. All she needed was to share her DNA in some way with you and a little bit of magic to add to that. Then, all would be right in her eyes if she had them in this way. For whatever reason, she felt that that was the true way the universe was meant to be. If she built this family with you, then it would never be taken from her ever again. The tricky part was actually creating them with you in a way that didn’t have you questioning how it was even scientifically possible. That would have you questioning a lot about who she is and what she could do. And she didn’t want to ruin what she established with you just yet. Even if the more you pushed at her the more she was tempted to say let go of her control.

She knew you were getting fed up with it too and the more you pushed her the more she contemplated letting her resolve slip. She tried her best to keep you at arms length while she tried to figure out her predicament. But she was feeling stuck with no alternative other than to reveal herself and what she could do. She kept going in circles to feel less stuck, but the more stuck she felt with this problem the angrier she was. And unfortunately, the angrier she was the easier it was for you to push her buttons. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, it only took one final push for her to actually snap. When you thought of Wanda breaking, you thought it would mean she would be forced to talk to you. Never did you expect the outcome of your plans that night. 

Your classmates had invited you out for drinks and, since you met Wanda, your answer was usually no. But tonight things were different. Wanda was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t pick you on campus. She was kind enough to warn you to take an Uber and she would pay, but you were still angry about it. So when you were invited out, you said yes. 

Saying anything other than no would’ve already irritated Wanda. Even a maybe. She didn’t like the idea of you going out to bars, especially without her. Usually if you wanted to do something with anyone else you’d at least ask her and she would be nearby to make sure you were safe and no one was tempted to take advantage of the time she was allowing them to have alone with you. But this time, you weren’t even going to ask. You were just going to go. Something you hadn’t done since before Wanda.

You knew what you were doing. It was all entirely intentional. Right down to the outfit you picked and the way you walked past Wanda, making just enough noise to get some of her attention. Even if she didn’t look up at you.

“Where are you going?” Wanda asked as she flipped a page of a strange book she was reading.

“Out,” you muttered. Even if Wanda wasn’t looking at you, you wanted your tone to register that you were rolling your eyes at her. The fact that she didn’t even look up just pissed you off even more. 

“I’m not planning to leave the house tonight.” She still wasn’t looking at you and that just made your hands ball into fists as you got more and more offended by her lack of attention. 

“I know,” you scoffed. “I don’t have to go everywhere with you.”

Suddenly, an eerie silence filled the room. You watched Wanda’s face as she kept her eyes glued to the book she was reading. There was a slight change in it, a tightening of her jaw, but she still didn’t look at you. 

“You know that’s not how this works,” Wanda’s response was calm, but you could tell you were starting to get to her. Never had you been defiant to her. She gave you everything you wanted and you did whatever she asked. There was an unspoken rule to go where Wanda goes, be where she wants you and an even deeper unspoken rule to not question or defy any of the other arrangements you two have made. But tonight, as you watched her jaw clench and unclench and realized you were getting under her skin, you decided to push more. 

“So?” You shrugged and that silent uncomfortable feeling in the room felt like it intensified the very second you uttered that one word. “I don’t see the harm in going out just for one night on my own.”

Wanda’s eyes slowly slid from her book to your face the moment you uttered the phrase on your own. That definitely wasn’t something you should’ve said to her. There was an understanding that anything you did “on your own” was something that Wanda would be nearby for. What you were asking for was a night completely away from Wanda, and it was breaking the biggest unspoken rule she had for you. This was new waters you were treading, but you were so sick of her lack of interest that you didn’t care. Any attention from her was a change from whatever was happening now. 

“You’re not going,” she ordered as she snapped her book shut and stood up. 

You just snorted at that, anger boiling in your blood as you stood your ground. “Why not? You seem preoccupied with just about anything other than me. What’s the harm?”

She was right in front of you now, her jaw was clenching and unclenching like it had before, but this time you looked down for a brief second and noticed her fists were doing the same. Still, though, you wanted to keep pushing. 

“With you dressed like that,” Wanda warned, “I think you know exactly what harm it could do.” You knew what you were doing when you got dressed. A tight, cropped shirt and even tighter short shorts to match. It was something meant to catch the eye of others and definitely something you knew would get an extra rise out of Wanda to add to that. What you didn’t know was what exactly Wanda meant. She was already picturing in her mind the droves of people who would come trying to pick you up at whatever trashy bar you decided to go to. And when she pictured people trying to touch what was hers, she also pictured all the ways in which she could make them suffer so much as daring to think they could have you. 

You were playing with fire and on some level you knew that, but something in you couldn’t stop pushing her buttons. Even if you didn’t know what exactly you were getting into, even if you didn’t know to the full extent how possessive Wanda could be of you and how much of a monster she was capable of being when provoked. 

“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.” You shrugged again and Wanda’s eye twitched as you kept challenging her resolve. “At least someone will appreciate it.”

If you thought the tension was bad when Wanda stood up, now it was suffocating you. Wanda just stared back at you, her eyes burning with anger. In fact, she looked so angry you swore you saw a red flash in her eyes.  For a moment, you kind of just stood there, waiting for Wanda to respond, but on her part she was trying to calm the possessive rage that you just caused to boil over inside of her. 

Part of her wanted to force you to your knees and have you beg forgiveness for defying her like this. You hadn’t even done anything yet, but just the idea and threat of disobeying her wishes had her furious. She was so close to figuring out how to have everything she wanted and now of all times you were trying to defy her? Trying to let a pathetic stranger swoop in on you at some dive bar when you know you’re hers? No, this was unacceptable to her. Never have you done anything other than be good for her. The way you so easily obeyed her is a small part of what drew her to you in the first place. And she did realize she had been neglectful, but couldn’t you see it was for your own good? For the good of the family Wanda was trying to rebuild with you? The more she had you the more she wanted. She had you completely already, that was true, but she wanted you in a way she wasn’t sure you were ready for. In a way that would show you exactly who Wanda really was. 

So in order to find a solution to the raging beast inside of her that wanted to claim you and have her family back, she thought it was best to withdraw.Clearly she over calculated and now here she was. But as you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, daring her with your eyes to do something, suddenly that’s when all her control just snapped. You felt the shift too, even if you didn’t understand it. It was like the calm before the storm. Wanda took a sharp, deep breath through her nose before exhaling and taking a step into your personal space. 

“Okay,” Wanda growled. “That’s about enough.” In a blink of the eye you were thrown over her shoulder. The way you yelped as you felt yourself hoisted off the ground echoed through the room. You knew Wanda was strong, but you didn’t know she was that strong. She had you thrown over her shoulder like it was nothing. Your hands grasped at her shirt, terrified she would drop you at any moment, but it was as if she had no struggle at all. 

“Wanda, what the fuck?” You cried as she walked towards the bedroom. With a grunt, you landed hard on the mattress. You couldn’t even begin to sit up before she was already on the bed with her legs on either side of your waist, essentially pinning you down onto the bed with her body.

“Language,” she hissed as she started to pull her own shirt off before immediately reaching for yours. 

“How did you- What- When did you get so strong?” You couldn’t collect your thoughts. They were scrambled up by the display of sheer strength and also maybe a little bit by the fact that Wanda was sitting on top of you without a shirt. 

“You wanted attention and now you’re questioning how I give it to you?” Wanda’s voice was dripping with irritation as she began to yank both your own shirt and bra off of you. 

“I– No, but…” You were now naked from the waist up beneath Wanda. Her eyebrow arched as you struggled to find your words. You definitely knew your little stunt would piss her off, but you didn’t expect this outcome. 

“Now tell me,” Wanda’s nails began dragging down your chest as she spoke, “why would you want anyone else’s attention, when I’m all that you need?” Her nails dug down a little harder as they reached your stomach and you hissed at the slight sting of the red marks they left behind.

“Tell me,” Wanda ordered again as her hands made their way back up to your chest. “I give you everything you could possibly want.” The way she was palming at them was rough, but still it had you squirming underneath her. “So why,” she took your nipples between her fingers and pinched just a little harder than she usually would, causing a slight pain as she spoke, “would you ever think about anyone else?”

You winced as she palmed at you even harder, but you couldn’t help the flood of shame at the arousal it sent straight to your core. The way she was handling you, like an object— like something to be owned— was new. Sure she could be intense when she touched you, but she was never intentionally rough like she was being right now. She never purposely caused any kind of pain, even if right now it was mild and (to your surprise) enjoyable. 

“It– it wasn’t like that!” You were stumbling over your words as you began to feel Wanda grind down into you. It wasn’t slight or subtle, the way she was moving her hips. She was pressing your body harder into the mattress as she dragged herself against you from where she was straddling your waist. 

“Hm, then what was it like?” Wanda’s tone was degrading. She was practically seething on top of you as she spoke. “Because to me it sounded like my little toy wanted someone else to play with her?” 

“I–” You couldn’t stop the wince at her harsh words. She had called you that before, but still there was a loving inflection in her voice when she did in the past. This tone she had now, the way she said, it was filled with nothing but rage. “Wanda, I don’t want anyone else. No– No, I… I just wanted you to-“ 

“Oh look at that,” Wanda interrupted, her tone utterly condescending. “Now you’re trying to cover your tracks.” You watched curiously as one of Wanda’s hands left your body. “I thought you understood when we started that you’re mine. I can’t have a single ounce of doubt in your mind about that fact. Now I need to remind you of who you belong to. Who owns you.” She hissed that word and your eyes widened as you watched her fingers twist and twirl in the air, a red glow following them as they moved. In a blink the rest of your clothes just vanished. Your eyes widened for a moment as you stared up at Wanda. But then, in another flash of red you felt your hands fly up and pin themselves above your head. No matter the struggle, you felt a constant, unwavering invisible force hold your wrists in place. 

“Wanda, what— how did you do that?” Your eyes shifted from above you, then to her fingers and finally to her face. Now you definitely noticed the matching red swirl in her irises. 

“I think it’s time I properly taught you just how important it is for you to be good, so that we can have everything we want.” If she heard your question she was clearly ignoring it. Your mind was racing trying to keep up with what was going on top of you. Her words definitely confused you too, but you didn’t get the chance to question them again. 

Wanda looked down for a moment and saw the look in your eyes before rolling her own and pressing her glowing fingers to your temple. In a split second you suddenly realized exactly who she was. Your heart raced and you gulped, but oddly you weren’t as terrified as you were just shocked. 

The Wanda Maximoff was on top of you telling you that you belonged to her. You should be running and screaming for help, or at least attempting to. All the news headlines and stories flooded your memory and you knew exactly how they painted her. She could end you in a second; you should be afraid. But for some reason, you weren’t. Instead, seeing this powerful woman on top of you and thinking back to all the times she told you she loved you, that she would take care of you, that she wanted only you. Knowing the truth, it stunned you, but not in a bad way. 

“Are you scared?” Wanda’s tone was still the same, taunting and demeaning as it was before. Only this time, you saw a little beyond that. There was a seriousness there. A curiosity of what your reaction was. Wanda thought if you reacted badly she could just go back to how it was. Wipe your mind of her existence entirely yet again, restart with you, and enjoy the dynamic you two had again. Was it a healthy plan? No. She would have to start from scratch again. Get you to fall for her once more. But Wanda’s obsession with you has gone far beyond the point of return. She would do what was necessary.

As if to purposely test your limits, Wanda reached for your throat, pressing ever so slightly. “Are you?” She repeated as she leaned down to look you in the eye.

You swallowed hard for a second, already feeling the slight strain on your throat as you did. “No,” you breathed out lowly. You weren’t at all. You realized all you wanted was her attention and finally she was giving it to you. Was this secret that kept her so withdrawn lately? “No, Wanda, I’m not.” 

You were nervous, but you weren’t scared. No matter what Wanda was before, no matter what she has become now, you were hers from the moment you crashed into her. A memory that was returned to you. If she hadn’t wiped that one, you would’ve still been drawn to her and fallen for her just as hard as you did when she was posing as a professor. 

Wanda knew your acceptance was true and took your answer for what it was. This moment right now opened so many doors for her. The void she had been feeling, it could finally be fixed in the way she wanted to fix it. Things in her life were falling into place. As Wanda sat atop of you she finally— for the first time in her entire existence —felt like she was winning. Not once did she ever feel so powerful until this very moment.

“Now that you know the truth…” Wanda trailed off in a low voice. She was thinking aloud more than she was talking to you. Her eyes stayed locked with yours but you could tell she was pondering something. When you saw the now familiar swirl of red in her eyes you began to question what Wanda has in store for you. 

“Do you love me?” Wanda now spoke directly to you. Her eyes were still glowing red as her hand finally relaxed against your throat.

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly. Wanda’s face melted at your admission. The harsh, contemplative look she was wearing shifted into a soft smile finally. It was perhaps the first time in weeks she gave you a glimpse of her softness and you reveled in it. 

But after just a split second it was replaced with a bigger smile, one that gave you that feeling of being prey caught in a trap again. It was a feeling you weren’t unfamiliar with. And, if you were being honest, you enjoyed the thrill you got from seeing it. “We’re going to try something,” Wanda purred as she sat back up, but remained on top of you. “Something that we’ll both thoroughly enjoy.” 

You looked at her with curious eyes, squirming underneath her only slightly as she shifted and began to move between your legs. 

“It will give us both what we’ve been wanting,” Wanda continued as she now knelt between your legs, holding them open for her as she spoke. Her eyes raked down your body, from your flushed cheeks all the way down to the wetness that dripped from your thighs. She couldn’t help the satisfied hum at the sight, thinking this might be a lot easier of a task than she thought it would be. 

With another swirl of red in her eyes and a matching red shimmer around her twirling fingers, you followed her eyes down as the rest of her clothes disappeared and something materialized. Wanda’s smile grew as something you couldn’t fully see appeared between her legs.

You strained your neck up as best you could from the pillow, but with your arms still pinned above your head it was difficult. You caught what looked like shimmering, deep red straps resting around her waist and could only imagine what those led to. 

When Wanda leaned forward and you felt a cool, silicon tip pushing between your folds, your suspicions were confirmed. The contact made the both of you shiver, and as you felt Wanda run the toy slowly from your entrance to your clit and back down, you could see her taking sharp, deep breaths.

“This is going to be… incredible,” Wanda practically hissed. “I’ll be able to feel everything, to feel every part of you when I make you cum.”

Wanda hadn’t even begun fucking you and the idea of it turned you on so much you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped from your lips in a response. 

“And then,” Wanda lined the tip up as she spoke, “I’m going to fill you with my cum and hopefully it will work.” With that she pushed forward and you both took a sharp breath at the feeling. 

Wanda eased in as slowly as she could while fighting her every instinct to just ram into you and fuck you until she felt you fall apart. But she knew that at least for the start of this, she should go slow. This was, after all, the first time she’s fucked you using her magic. It was the first time she’s fucked you using something this big too. For all she knew, you’ve only ever had experience with her fingers. She didn’t want to break you— not completely. But as her cock sank into you inch by inch she was beginning to slip.

“God this feels better than I imagined,” Wanda hissed as she bottomed out inside you. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?” 

Your teeth were digging into your lip as you tried to stop yourself from crying out from the sheer feeling of being so full. To have Wanda fill your pussy in a way she never has before, it was taking all your willpower not to turn into a moaning, whining mess before she even really began to fuck you.

Wanda’s hips were currently completely pressed between your legs and you were taking her so surprisingly well. You were tight, but the way you squeezed Wanda’s magic strap was delicious. There was a pause for a moment— just a brief second for you to adjust to the size of her toy. But it was all she could manage to give you. The sensation of actually feeling you in this way had her head swimming and she needed more. 

She pulled the toy out slowly, so much so that only the tip stayed inside you. Her chest was already heaving as she looked down at you. The way her eyes were filled with hunger made you shiver as you looked back up at her, restrained, helpless, and thirsty for more. Your legs spread open for her even more without her prompting you and she groaned at the sight before her. Your wetness smeared on the parts of the toy that she could see, your arms still pinned over your head. It was all too much. She couldn’t help what she did next. Her hips snapped suddenly and her cock pushed deep into you. 

The cry you let out echoed through the room and Wanda swore she’s never heard a prettier sound. Her hips pulled back again until just the tip was left in you. Again she snapped them forward hard, making your eyes screw shut as you cried her name. 

“Fuck, if I knew it would feel like this…” Wanda groaned as she began to pump inside you at a brutal pace. Her hands were on your thighs, nails digging into your skin as she kept your legs spread open. Your hands were balled into fists above your head as she fucked you. You couldn’t stop the moans and cries that fell from your lips even if you wanted to. 

As Wanda kept fucking you, she fell forward, her entire body pressed against yours, as her lips captured your own. You whimpered into the kiss as her tongue filled your mouth much in the same aggressive way as the way she was currently fucking the toy into you. 

Wanda’s hands still had a hold of your thighs as she hoisted your legs over her waist, giving her a better angle to fuck the toy into you. You struggled to keep up with the way Wanda was licking into your mouth and biting at your lips. Her cock was hitting a spot inside of you, you didn’t even know would feel as good as it did. Your knuckles were turning white as your whole body began to shake from the sheer pleasure she was giving you. Even though you felt as if your whole body was on the brink of exploding, Wanda just kept going.

When Wanda began to moan more and more against your own mouth, you knew neither of you would last much longer. Wanda couldn’t keep kissing you anymore, and instead buried her head in the nape of your neck as she hoisted your legs higher onto her hips and fucked you even deeper. Your eyes had rolled back and cries of Wanda’s name fell from your lips nonstop as she picked up her pace.

“I can feel how close you are,” Wanda groaned as she pumped particularly harder into you. “But you’re going to wait. I want you to cum when I do.”

All you could do was whine in response as the sensation of her fucking you made it impossible for you to let out any coherent words. 

“You’re going to look so pretty,” she moaned against your neck, “filled up with my cum… and even prettier after.” Wanda’s movements were becoming erratic as she spoke. The words hardly registered to you as she kept fucking you harder and faster. 

“You wanna cum, baby?” Wanda purred in your ear. You nodded desperately, your whole body trembling as you continued to take her. Her teeth grazed against the most sensitive part of your neck as she felt you nod and she could feel her own body tremble from how close she was. “Then come with me,” she ordered. Her hips pumped harder into you and after a moment you felt a sudden warm rush of fluids inside you. The sound of moans filled the air even louder than before and you weren’t sure if they were coming from you or her. 

The moment you felt her cum inside you, you followed after. Your body arched off the bed and you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Wanda’s forehead was pressed to your bare chest as she came. The way your pussy tightened around her magic cock was intoxicating. Neither of you had felt so good in your entire lives and Wanda made a mental note to fuck you like this often. 

When she felt your body finally collapse against the mattress she did the same against you. You realized quickly that your wrists no longer felt restrained, but you kept them above your head either way. Too exhausted to even lift them yet. 

“That was…” you couldn’t find the words. You had never felt so amazing on so many different levels than you did tonight. Your body felt spent and sensitive, but all you wanted was more. More of that, more of Wanda, more of everything she had to offer now that you knew who Wanda was. 

“Yeah,” Wanda didn’t need to hear you finish your sentence to know she was feeling the same way you were. Her head rested on your chest, listening to your heartbeat begin to slow as you came down from the high Wanda gave you. 

“Can we… do it like that more?” Your face was flushed as you asked. 

Wanda lifted her head and gave you a beaming smile. To anyone else it would be dazzling, but curiously, to you it gave you that feeling again— the one where you were nothing but a sheep caught in a wolf’s clutches. 

“Of course we can, baby,” Wanda purred as she looked up at you. “As many times as it takes.” 

The word choice was odd. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the woman on your chest. Her eyes were dark as she looked back up at you and something about the way her fingers traced up and down your stomach made you shudder. 

“As many times as it takes?” You echoed Wanda’s words back to her as a question, but she just gave a small hum of agreement as she placed a few kisses on your skin. 

“Until I have everything that I want again.” Her voice was low suddenly, almost threatening. You looked down at her eyes and saw how they darkened as she continued to trace her fingers against your body. “And nobody will take it from me again.”

Her words felt like a threat to an invisible entity. You knew it wasn’t directed towards you, you had no idea the source. But you knew she was serious, even if you didn’t quite understand why. Her words felt as much as a threat to someone as they did a direct promise to you. 

As Wanda laid on your chest and recovered some of her strength she thought about how she was one step closer. She could have her perfect family; her happiness. She didn’t need to control a whole town, she didn’t even necessarily need to control you. Once you did understand, she knew you would be accepting. Shocked, maybe, but ultimately accepting and even happy to build the dream Wanda had. She would have her boys, she would recreate them again with you. And then it would be the four of you, forever. 

For your part, you didn’t know what Wanda meant exactly. It wouldn’t be until later that evening, when Wanda decided you recovered enough to go again, that you put the pieces together and realized exactly how magic Wanda’s new toy was. She was right in her assumption of your reaction, shocked but accepting. Just like the good girl she knew you would be. Whatever Wanda wanted, you decided you would give it to her, knowing she would do the same. Wanda was one step closer to her happiness and it finally felt as if she was building it on solid foundations. There would be no one to take you from her, no one to stop her from building a life again with you. And there was a silent, chilling understanding between the two of you that if anyone were to ever threaten her happiness again… they would not get very far.

Taglist: @geekyandgay98 @desperate-gay @high--power @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @natashamaximoff69 @natashasilverfox @lovelyy-moonlight @jareguiromanoff @dj-bynum3718 @noahrex @simpforlizzie @taivantaylor @mrsmothermaximoff @storiesofsvu

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[imaginedanvrs]

show and tell

masterlist

dark!wandanat x reader. sub!wanda, dom!natasha, dom-turned-sub!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: cheating, dubcon, undiscussed voyeurism, exhibitionism, size kink, strap on sex (r giving and recieving), mentions of tribbing, praise, degrading, gun play, threats of violence, rough sex, begging, masturbation

“Too much…y/n- baby,” Wanda panted helplessly. Despite the words she was hardly able to speak, her legs tightened their hold on you whilst you pushed your newest toy deeper. The Sokovian whined as her back arched off of her King sized bed and her fingers clawed into your back. 

  You grinned, gazing down at the beautiful view you had created. “All that power yet you can’t take a few extra inches,” you remarked. “And there I thought this poor neglected pussy would be desperate for it after being left alone for so long,” you continued, drawing your hips back only to thrust in further. She was so close to taking it all, she just needed some extra encouragement. 

  “Please,” she uttered, eyes connecting with your own the way they always did. She was so influenced with lust she was practically at your mercy, so you filled her to the brim with a grunt. “Fuck!” Wanda hissed, nerves ablaze. You felt her slick against your thighs when your pelvises pressed together and acknowledged the signal she was ready. 

  You fucked Wanda like it was the last time you’d do it, because that was always in question. She had an unpredictable life and her marriage was even more so. As though the absence of planning wasn’t challenging enough, the fact that Wanda was married to the world’s best spy (and assassin) was constantly looming over you. 

  “I bet she never makes you feel this way,” you said, watching Wanda’s blissed features as she moaned breathlessly. She looked insatiable when you had her like that, cheeks flushed, hair messed, pupils blown. All from your actions. “You like when I fuck you with this big cock?” You questioned with a smirk, as though you couldn’t hear how wet she was. 

  “I love it,” she cried out, mind frayed. “So good.” She just couldn't help herself. Neither could you. 

  “Better than her?” She met your cocky grin with a mere flash of hesitation before the carefree smile returned. 

  “So competitive,” a voice behind you mused. Your recognition was instant and you didn’t even turn around when you made to scramble out of the bed. You didn’t get the chance. With a distressed whine, Wanda’s magic entangled with your frame and pulled you flush against her until the strap was buried to the hilt once more. 

  “Wanda,” you gasped, unsure if she had heard her wife come in. “Let go,” you hissed as you heard the widow’s boots thud across the floor. Wanda didn’t oblige and instead began to move your hips for you to resume her pleasure. 

  “Stop that,” Natasha demanded and you stilled, unable to escape. “She was just saying how I could never make you feel this way, so by all means, let her go ahead,” she told her wife, gliding her cold fingertips over your hips and pushed you down. You registered Wanda’s hitch at the action. 

  “Please, I-” you tried but the spy wasn’t interested. 

  “Shut the fuck up.” You knew better than to argue with the Russian, especially once she rounded the bed to kiss her wife tenderly. 

  “Welcome home,” Wanda greeted, still very flushed to her wife’s amusement. You eyed the pair warrily, your heart hammering against your chest so hard you felt your ribs bruise. It almost stopped short when Natasha’s glaze turned cold and locked in on you. 

  “Fuck her,” she ordered. You didn’t dare object but had to tear your eyes away as you dutifully began to thrust into the woman beneath you. You focused on Wanda’s sweet noises of pleasure in an attempt to forget your fear, but it was difficult with Natasha’s stalking behind you again. 

  “So you’re the one who’s been fucking my wife while I was saving the world,” she commented casually. “Such a big strap on you too,” Natasha continued as she watched the soaked toy leave Wanda’s pussy only to be driven back in. “Does it make you feel tough to use this on her? How would you feel if I used this nasty cock on you?” You felt Wanda clench around you at her words. 

  “I’m sorry!” You tried again, imagining all of the different weapons that she could be carrying on her. 

  “You’re sorry you were caught,” she corrected. “If you make my wife cum I might consider letting you leave here with all of your limbs,” she considered, delivering a hard smack to your ass. You jolted forwards and heard Wanda cry out, falling into the rhythm Natasha pushed you into in a desperate attempt to please them both. It wasn’t hard, you had fucked Wanda countless times before, but you momentarily regretting bringing such a large toy to use under pressure. Still, it didn’t seem to be an issue for the Sokovian who gasped into your shoulder, peering at her wife with a knowing glint. Unknowingly to you, Natasha winked back with the same smirk she had stripped you of. 

  “ты хорошо себя чувствуешь, дорогая?” You frowned at the Russian’s words, knowing they were directed at Wanda but still feeling like you should know what they say. 

  “Wha-” you turned to question Natasha only to be met with the barrel of her handgun pointed at your head. You instantly cowered away but knew that even if you had tried to leap out of the bed again, it was pointless against the assassin. 

  “так хорошо!” Wanda answered, entirely unphased by the weapon she happened to be in the firing range of. Natasha hummed, seemingly pleased with her partner’s response.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you,” she told you pitifully. “As long as you do what you came here to do.” You figured there wasn’t much point protesting any longer, so you turned back to the woman beneath you and tried to pin all of your focus on her as you usually wouldn't without prompt. Even with a gun pointed at your head, you couldn’t stop admiring how much Wanda looked like some tainted angel that had succumbed to her desires. 

  “Don’t stop,” she called to you. She was breathless, desperate and despite her partner’s looming presence, entirely under your influence. You fucked Wanda relentlessly, just the way you knew she went crazy for until it became hard for you not to grow smug at the sounds you were drawing from her infront of her wife. Soon, the gun became a lingering thought and Wanda returned to the forefront of your mind as she had a habit of doing. 

  “I’m gonna cum,” she announced as your hips slapped against her own. You felt the tension in the room rise accordingly but didn’t let it affect you as you drove your fake cock into Wanda’s pussy harder. 

  “That’s it, fuck,” you encouraged, feeling the harness rub against you with every thrust that Wanda tried to meet. She dug her nails into your back as she came, soaking the toy that she clung to with such might that you had a challenge fucking her through her high. You rocked your hips against her as you coaxed her through her orgasm and felt yourself become impossibly wetter. Her slick was running down both your thighs and you wanted nothing more than to throw the harness off and rub your cunt against her ruined one. Perhaps you might have if it weren’t for the eyes on the both of you. 

  You grinned down at Wanda, your arrogance gradually making its way back until Natasha cut it short by dragging the harness off from your waist, as though she could read your mind. For a moment, you really did wonder if she was going to have you do what you were thinking of, until you noticed her tightening the harness to her own hips with practised ease. Somehow, seeing it on the widow made the strap look bigger. 

  You snapped your head back to Wanda when she began to shuffle herself out from under you and up towards the headboard that she rested against with heavy eyes. You made to follow until the barrel of the gun was pressed into the centre of your back and you were forced back down into the mattress with a grunt. 

  “You think we’re done?” Natasha scoffed. “What do you think, detka?” You peered up at Wanda with wide eyes only to see her fingers had returned to the space between her legs that was still red and leaking. The mischievous glint in her eyes was one you didn’t trust one bit. Your instincts were right. 

  “Make her take it,” the Sokovian husked. 

  “как скажешь,” Natasha replied simply, tossing the unnecessary gun to the side so that she could place both hands on you waist and lift your ass into the air. 

  “Wait,” you tried, knowing how large the toy was and how tight the fit would be. It was rare that you were on the receiving end so you were sure you weren’t ready for such a toy. At least you had worked Wanda up to it. Her wife didn’t seem to care because barely a second passed until you felt the head nudge at your exposed pussy. You could show your fear as much as you wanted, but you all heard the sound of the toy against your wetness. You whined into the bed, accepting you were made. 

  “I bet you wanted this from the start,” Natasha mused, pushing the toy past your reluctant entrance. You held the sheets in a death grip and cried out into the mattress at the immediate stretch. “You just need to be put in your place. Made to feel like the bitch you are,” she spat, pushing inch after inch into your dripping pussy without any consideration. 

  “Please!” You wailed inaudibly, needing a moment to adjust to the intrusion. Apparently you hadn’t earned that yet, because Natasha forced the rest of the toy in with a low groan that was overshadowed by your pleas of protest. It felt like you were being split apart, walls stretched to accommodate the cock you had such a thrill using just minutes prior. Needless to say, that power had been stripped. 

  “What happened, tough guy? Is it too much?” The Russian laughed. You registered Wanda’s breathy moans picking up again. “Too bad.” She drew her hips back only to slam them back into you along with every inch of the toy. You whined, high in your throat, and tried to close your legs but Natasha held them firmly apart. “No, no. Take it all. It’s only fair,” she pointed out, slamming herself against you. 

  The pain was prominent and stubborn, enhanced with every sharp thrust into your cunt that was soaked beyond belief, and you were powerless against it. Your slick only served to allow Natasha to fuck you as hard as she wished as your walls obediently parted for her to reach your depths in ways you had never felt. With that, the pleasure was finally able to peek through the haze of pain. 

  “Such a fucking whore letting me use you like this,” Natasha hissed but you hardly registered her over your burning sensations. She grabbed ahold of your hair and hauled your head up enough for your neck to ache and forced you to stare at her blissed out wife who sat pleasuring herself at your defeat. “You like being turned into a brainless fucktoy?” She asked. You didn’t respond as you looked at Wanda, knowing it would counteract with everything you had ever uttered to her but the harsh slap to your ass rid you of that final secret. 

  “Yes,” you whimpered. At the confession, Wanda fingered herself harder though it was clearly nothing compared to what her wife had you subject to. 

  Natasha’s thrusts were harsh, deliberately pushing as far inside you as she possibly could each time to make you bask in how large the toy was and how much it filled you up. You were stretched out perfectly around the toy, reshaped to take it as much as Natasha pleased. She was cruel, etching the words of ‘slut’ and ‘dumb’ into your mind as she ruined you in every sense of the word. 

  “I know you’re getting close, you’re clenching around me like a desperate bitch in heat,” Natasha told you, feuling Wanda’s arousal. 

  “Make her cum, make her know how good it feels,” the Sokovian called. Natasha huffed.

  “You’re lucky she’s here,” she muttered, clearly having planned on leaving you hanging despite the ruthlessness of the way she pounded into you. 

  Your moans grew along with Wanda’s and a matter of moments later, you were cumming around the unforgiving cock as hard as she had, pushing your own face into the bed to avoid meeting her eye in your moment of complete helplessness. You pushed back against Natasha as you came, desperate to have as much of her inside of you to cling to as your mind went blank. Your chest heaved and the world went quiet as your orgasm rushed through you. It was so much. Too much, all at once. 

  Once the intense waves finally finished crashing over you, you felt a pair of hands lift you up and place you on another body. You couldn't place either of them, too frazzled to tax your brain with the task, but you appreciated the warmth regardless and didn't fight it when a red haze clouded your mind and pulled you into a state of measured unconsciousness.

[dirtyvulture]

The Maid - Part 3

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 3973

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: I am so glad everyone is enjoying this fic! Now we get to see who's guesses from Part 2 were correct...

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Things with Wanda have become increasingly difficult lately. Your temper inches shorter and shorter with every argument the two of you have, which seem to be almost every conversation now. After your night out with Natasha, which felt dangerously normal, you realized what you were missing with your own wife. But the two of you had been together for nearly a decade–surely there were bound to be rough patches, right?

“I have to work late tomorrow night,” you say as the two of you get ready for bed, and as soon as the words come out of your mouth you regret it.

“Late again? Really, Y/N?” Wanda shoots back. “I already made the reservation for our dinner. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Reschedule it?” you suggest, trying to hide your frustration. How many dozens of dinners (and anniversaries) had she stood you up?

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not doing that,” Wanda says, angrily climbing into bed and turning away from you. “If you can’t put the effort in to remember when we have dinner dates, then we’re not going to one.”

“You literally forgot our anniversary,” you respond, finally losing control of your temper.

“I did not forget,” she argues. “I had other plans that you forgot. And don’t use that tone with me. You’re not the one who should be annoyed right now.” Anger flares up inside you, but you hold your tongue. Arguing further with her would be pointless. You crawl onto your side of the bed and look over at your wife, balled up and small-looking under the covers.

You loved her. That was never a lie. But sometimes you wonder why you allowed her to cause you so much pain. Was it just to further prove your love to her? And how much more of it could you take?

***********************************************************************

After Natasha returns from picking up Wanda’s dry cleaning, she neatly hangs up the half-dozen dresses in the closet and begins dusting the house from top to bottom. It’s not an exciting chore, but due to the vastness of your home and the few people living in it, a lot of dust has accumulated and even she knows Wanda’s not exaggerating when she complains about her allergies acting up.

Natasha starts in your bedroom, carrying around a small stool to help her reach high places. She gently pats the dust off a plush teddy bear sitting on your dresser. She gets on her knees to brush the floorboards running along the perimeter of the room. Although the work is painfully dull, she finds satisfaction in the way her duster fibers turn grayer and grayer. She cleans the glass doors of the china cabinet with a special wipe, smiling at a little ceramic turtle perched on a shelf at eye level. She waltzes through the kitchen, which needs the least cleaning because she spends the most time there, but pauses to give special care to the rainbow-colored plastic cow looking out the window.

In the living room is a massive bookshelf that takes up an entire wall’s worth of space.Natasha doesn’t even know where to start, but she hops onto her stool and begins dusting the spines in every row. When she gets to the end of the fourth row, a title catches her eye: Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. She had read the book for the first time in its native Russian, and while it may not have been a child-friendly novel, it did bring back more fondful memories of her childhood.

She takes it off the shelf, surprised at its weight. It’s over 500 pages, but much heavier than she remembers. The front cover swings open and something big and metal falls out, nearly landing on her foot. Natasha gasps in surprise as she pulls her leg back, her eyes widening as she stares at the revolver on the floor.

She opens the book, finding a huge rectangle cut out of the center of the pages to house the weapon. Whose gun was this? Neither you nor Wanda struck her as physically violent people. Maybe it was for protection? 

The garage door rumbles open.

Natasha scoops up the gun with shaking hands and puts it back in the book, shoving it onto the shelf again. She grabs her duster and continues to dust the shelf.

“Natasha? Are you here?” Wanda’s voice rings out.

“In the living room! Good afternoon, Mrs. L/N!” Natasha responds, not turning around and staring at Crime and Punishment as if the gun will go off on its own.

“Why are you dusting our bookshelf?” Wanda asks. 

“I’m dusting the whole house,” Natasha answers. “Just want to make sure every area is clean–”

“You read?” Wanda interrupts.

“I can, yes.” Natasha has no idea where the conversation is going and her stomach twists in knots.

“I mean, do you read for fun?”

“Yes,” Natasha lies.

“You ever read Crime and Punishment?” 

Natasha just wants Wanda to leave her alone. “Yes.”

“A little advanced for you, don’t you think?” she says, and Natasha doesn’t even feel the need to defend herself from the cruel comment. She still hasn’t faced Wanda and wonders if she’s holding another revolver pointed at her back.

But Wanda is still waiting for an answer, so Natasha draws herself taller and says, “I’m Russian. I read it in high school.”

“Of course.” Wanda shifts her weight and the floor creaks. Natasha tenses and closes her eyes. “Well, I pay you to clean my house, not read my books. So keep your hands off my copy. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Footsteps indicate Wanda is going to another room.

Natasha has never been genuinely scared of Wanda until now.

***********************************************************************

It’s laundry day in your household, another chore Natasha completely despises due to the sheer amount of bedding you and Wanda seem to accumulate. Wanda insists that she wash the sheets in every guest room, despite the fact that you and her only sleep in the master bedroom. While Natasha is certain she knows the real reason, she overheard her telling you it was to prevent bed bugs. 

Still, Natasha knows better than to question your wife and falls into the routine of stripping every bed, washing one load at a time, and redoing all the beds. The laundry machine is so noisy, she doesn’t hear the garage door open, nor the footsteps down the foyer. She doesn’t listen to music while she works, afraid Wanda will accuse her of being distracted, so she hums the soundtrack to Mamma Mia. 

When the next load finishes, Natasha gathers up the bedding in her arms, almost smothered by the heat from its tumble in the dryer. She precariously walks up the stairs, trying to remember which bedroom the sheets are from, when she hears a thump from the master bedroom.

Natasha freezes. She thought she was alone in the house. Maybe you had snuck by while she was in the laundry room, and clearly she didn’t learn her lesson from the last time she walked in on you and Wanda to stay away. Heart pounding against her chest in anticipation, Natasha inches towards the door and peers through the crack.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me,” Wanda moans, followed by the repetitive banging of the headboard against the wall. Natasha shifts around to get a better view of the room, straining to see what’s going on. She catches a glimpse of Wanda on her knees, moving in and out of her view, someone holding onto her waist from behind. 

“I want you to put a baby in me,” Wanda pants, and her partner grunts in response.

While the two of you had no children that Natasha was aware of, she wonders if that was an intentional decision or perhaps you two were waiting for a better moment. Kids would certainly give you a reason to stay with Wanda, and maybe that was exactly what she was planning. 

Natasha hates the way she keeps watching, wanting more material to fuel her never-ending fantasy of being betrothed to you.    

“Honey? Are you here? I’m home!”

“I’m upstairs!” Natasha calls. She hears you tramp up the steps as she patiently waits for you in the bedroom. You poke your head through the door first, the top few buttons of your shirt undone, and although the exhaustion from work is evident on your face, you perk up when you see her.

Especially with what she’s wearing, or lack of it.

“I hope you had a good day at work, baby,” Natasha says, turning around to face you. She’s wearing the red lingerie set you bought her for her birthday. It hardly leaves her assets to the imagination and she can feel your gaze lingering on her body. She’s never felt so appreciated or wanted before.

“It was a good day that’s only getting better.” You step into the bedroom, hastening to take off your clothes. Natasha comes over to help you and you easily scoop her up in your strong arms, and she wraps her legs tightly around your hips. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” you whisper, your mouth hot on her neck as you nip at her skin.  

You walk forward until Natasha feels her back bump into the vanity. You rest her on the edge and spread your legs to jerk yourself to full hardness. Natasha struggles against the impatience in her core, wanting nothing more than for you to fill her to the brim. She watches the veins in your muscular arm pop out as you move your hand back and forth faster, your cock swelling to its large size.

Finally, Natasha cannot wait any longer. “I need you,” she begs, swatting your hand away and sliding forward, ready to practically fall on your dick. 

“Careful, baby,” you warn with a chuckle, gripping onto her thighs and stepping forward to find the right angle to insert yourself. 

Natasha sighs in relief when you enter her, holding onto your shoulders in case you get any ideas of pulling out too far. Her walls clench around you tightly, drawing a moan from you and you press your hips forward until your whole cock stretches her out. Natasha loves how much you fill her, how you soothe the empty throbbing in her. She must be the luckiest woman in the world to have you like this.

The vanity bumps against the wall with every thrust. Natasha squeezes her thighs tighter around your waist, trying to hold you in as long as possible. She runs her hands up and down your broad back, digging her nails into your shoulder blades when your thighs meet hers.

“When are you gonna put a baby in me?” she asks, her lips crashing heatedly onto yours.

You grunt with another deep thrust.

“You would look so beautiful carrying my child.”

Natasha’s blood goes cold when she hears Wanda’s partner. Because it’s not your voice.

It’s Vision’s.

She angles herself to see better and feels sick to see her stomach when she sees your wife and Vision tangled on the bed together. She can’t bear to watch another second and flees down the stairs, the bedsheets still in her arms, not even caring if they hear her. 

She has to find a way to tell you. That was the least you deserved.

***********************************************************************

You stand in the dim hallway, watching as Wanda whips around, grabbing her coat and Louis Vuitton purse. “Where do you think you’re going?” you ask.

“I’m not allowed to leave the house now?” she bites back, not even looking at you.

“It’s Friday night,” you point out.

“So?” 

“Friday nights are our nights,” you stress, and Wanda finally looks at you when you raise your voice. “It’s been that way for years, unless you’ve been so bored of me you haven’t noticed.”

“You can survive without me for one night,” she shoots back. “I have a dinner night with the girls–”

“Don’t go,” you say, your tone changing from anger to pleading. “Please. We hardly spend any time together since I started the new job here and–”

“That’s not my fault,” Wanda clips. “That was your decision. Moving here was also your decision, in case you forgot.” You don’t miss the way she stresses the blame on you. “You thought it would be better for your business, and you’re still in the red. I gave up my old friends and relationships to be here with you, and then you have the audacity to act like this is my fault.”

“I asked if you wanted to stay, and you said you were fine with moving,” you remind her, although you are uncomfortable at the truth of her words.

“I said I was fine moving because I thought it’d make you happy,” Wanda says. “But it looks like out of the two of us, I’m the only happy one here.”

You know it’s wrong, but you can’t help but be frustratingly jealous of your wife. Even waking up every day is now a struggle for you. You’re buckling under the pressure of work, unable to meet the deadlines or find the capital to pay your mounting debts. The only person you have to support you is Wanda, but she’s always off partying with her new friends or going to some made-up meeting meant to give her a false sense of significance. You’ve never felt lonelier, and it scares you that the only person you have may be slipping away.

“I’ll be back tonight.” Wanda whips out to the garage and clearly doesn’t want to hear any more protest from you. You stagger back and collapse onto a sofa, holding your head in your hands and feeling a burning sensation in your eyes.

Natasha peeks around the corner of the kitchen, wondering if you remember that she’s still here. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” she asks.

“No,” you say, forcing yourself to laugh. “I’m sorry if you heard any of that. That was very unprofessional of us.”

“It’s okay.” Natasha inches out so you can see her. You’re rubbing your eyes and she’s startled to realize you’re crying. Not knowing what to do, she retreats into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of rambutans from the bottom drawer of the fridge and a box of tissues and brings them to you.

You laugh when you see her offerings. You pat the sofa cushion next to her to indicate she is welcome to join you. “Have you had one of these before? I can show you how to eat them.” You peel off the furry red exterior, revealing a pearl-colored center. “You just eat this part. It tastes like a grape.”

Natasha takes one and follows your example. When she bites into the center, the taste is not as exotic as she expected but quite mild, reminding her of an oversized, fleshy grape. “It’s pretty good,” she says.

“My favorite.” You peel open another one, leaving the exterior on a pile on the table.

Natasha has another one and anxiously looks around the room, as if Wanda is still in the house. “Y/N, I need to tell you something,” she finally has the courage to say, heart pounding in her chest.

“Yes?” There’s a soft crunch as you bite through your rambutan. 

“Wanda’s cheating on you with Vision,” Natasha blurts out, with no build-up whatsoever.

You are completely silent, chewing the fruit as if it’s the last thing you’ll ever eat. 

“I saw them together in bed yesterday.” Natasha now realizes how foolish she sounds. What if you didn’t believe her? What if you thought she was lying in order to get you for herself? She could’ve taken a picture (as weird as that would’ve been) to provide actual proof. 

“I know,” you say, to Natasha’s shock. “I know she’s cheating on me with Vision.”

“You do?” Natasha is stunned. She wonders how long you’ve known, and why you’ve never acted out on it.

“She’s cheating on me with half the fucking neighborhood.”

***********************************************************************

One month earlier…

“Need a hand?”

“No, I think I’m good, thanks!” You roll out from under your car, your arms and face covered in grease and oil. A skinny man stands on the sidewalk, surveying your propped-up car on the driveway.

“What’s wrong with it?” he asks.

“Not sure,” you respond, reaching for a rag in your tool bag and wiping off your face. “It won’t start though, so I’ll probably have to get it towed to the shop.” 

“Need a lift?”

“Uh…” You glance back at your empty house. Wanda was out until nightfall, although you wouldn’t put it past her to be gone until tomorrow. Despite the brand-new house the two of you had just moved into, she didn’t seem to want to spend much time in it.

“It’s no trouble,” the man insists. “I live over at the end of the street. You can call me Vision.” He comes forward to shake your hand. 

“Y/N,” you introduce. “Well, I’d really appreciate it. We just moved here and my wife’s out of town right now, so I don’t have many friends I can call on here yet.”

Vision waves off your comment. “You have neighbors! That’s what we’re for, right?”

You call a tow truck and join Vision in his purple Camaro with a yellow racing stripe along the center of its hood to tail your vehicle to the shop.

“What do you do for work?” you ask, genuinely impressed with his sports car. He didn’t seem like the type to own one.

“Oh, I’m retired,” he says, effortlessly shifting the gears and the vehicle purrs in response.

“Really?” He hardly looked a few years older than you.

“Corporate life just wasn’t for me,” he says. “It paid very well though, so I retired early and bought the house out here. It’s just me though, never found the right person to settle down with.”

“It’s not for everyone,” you admit, because sometimes you wonder if you even found the right person.

***********************************************************************

After the mechanics determine your car needs an overnight stay to repair, Vision drives you back home. He drops you off and speeds down the street to his own. You find him to be a little quirky, but harmless. You head inside for a much-needed shower. When you’re done, you wrap a towel around your waist and step into the bedroom to find some clothes. You pause when the front door creaks open. 

Excited to greet your wife, you rush out to say hello from the top of the stairs, but stop in your tracks when you realize she’s brought someone in.

“Oh, Y/N isn’t home,” Wanda says, her voice carrying through the foyer.

“This house is huge!” It’s Steve. Your heart bangs against your chest and you retreat to the bedroom, unsure where to hide. The closet seems like a decent spot, and you nestle in between your hanging jackets as you hear Wanda and Steve stomp up the stairs together. You peek out through the crack in the door.

“Ours was built first, but it looks like this one has a lot of improvements that we could’ve used,” Steve goes on.

“Yes, yes, it’s very nice,” Wanda says. They walk into your bedroom, Wanda behind him with a mischievous glint in her eye you recognize all too well. “I wish Y/N could be around more,” she continues, and you fight the urge to burst out of the closet. “Like you said, it’s such a big house and it feels so lonely in it without another body to keep it warm.”

You see Steve’s gaze travel along the walls and over your furniture. To his credit, he does seem genuinely impressed with your home. He always struck you as a simple man, maybe even a little bit ignorant at times. But now you were about to see if his ignorance was true or an act.

Wanda approaches him so closely you’re sure her body is rubbing against his. 

“Y/N isn’t here, but maybe you can keep me company for a while?”

“Hey, hey, what are you doing?” Steve jerks away from Wanda when she puts her hands on his hips. 

“We can be quick,” Wanda insists, taking off her jacket. “No one has to know–”

“Wanda, stop it,” Steve says, sounding angry. “I have a wife and kids at home and you’re married to Y/N–”

“So?” Wanda replies, and it makes your stomach clench with how dismissive she is. “I’ve been married to Y/N for four years and I’ve been cheating since day one.” She shrugs. “Honestly, the only reason I settled down is for the thrill of it.” She holds her hand up, the wedding ring you gifted her with three months’ salary glinting in the light. “It’s much more exciting to get what you’re not supposed to have, right?”

“You’re disgusting,” Steve says. “Stay away from me and my family.”

He hurries out of the bedroom, but Wanda doesn’t go after him at first. She puts her jacket back on and admires her reflection in the mirror, clearly a little frazzled by Steve’s rejection. How many people hadn’t rejected her? You always had a hunch, but had never heard Wanda admit it outloud before. How could you be so stupid this whole time?

Your body starts to vibrate with rage and you accidentally knock a jacket off its hook. While the jacket falls soundlessly to the floor, you can’t see well enough to catch the hanger and it lands with a quiet thump on the carpet. You look through the crack, holding your breath as Wanda’s head whips towards the closet. 

The next few seconds are so tense you want to vomit.

But then Wanda turns back to her reflection, fluffing out her hair, and leaves the bedroom.

***********************************************************************

Your paranoia kicks in like a drug that won’t let you rest. You buy cameras and sprinkle them all around the house, in the trinkets and knick knacks Wanda insisted on showcasing in every room. The teddy bear on your dresser in the bedroom. The ceramic turtle in the china cabinet in the living room. The plastic cow on the windowsill of the kitchen window. You monitor them religiously, but it doesn’t take long for more evidence to show up.

Vision is the most frequent offender, visiting during your long nights at work or sometimes in the middle of the day. Steve never sets foot on your property again, although sometimes the camera in the potted plant by the front door picks up the conversation of Wanda trying to convince him to come over. As nice as Steve was to turn down your wife’s advances, he never came to tell you what she had tried to do with him either.

There are some visitors you don’t even recognize. And Wanda isn’t a stranger to women either. She brings over Agatha, her supposed HOA nemesis, and many of the ladies who would greet you so kindly and fawn over you every time they saw you working in the front yard. You would bet money that she was also fucking some of her girlfriends on their trips away.

And now you have it all on camera, your wife fucking multiple strangers in your own home. The proof didn’t make you feel better; in fact, it made you feel worse. All that time, effort, and money you had spent trying to cultivate the perfect relationship with her when she would turn around and fuck the first thing that looked at her. 

It made you so angry you couldn’t see straight. But you knew you couldn’t act hastily. You would formulate the perfect plan to get out of the marriage and leave Wanda behind, even if it meant leaving her for dead.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Whomp whomp. So...was it who you expected? Or worse? 🤭And I think we collectively owe Steve an apology.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[lowkeyerror]

Instant Attraction pt2

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 9.8k

Notes: StepMom!Wanda, cunnilingus, fingering, strap-on sex, intoxication, fluff, angst, mentions of abuse with minimal descriptions of physical acts of violence towards children

Summary: Your dad left, the twins went with Jarvis leaving you and Wanda with some alone time, but it doesn’t seem to last too long.

An: It took awhile but I got it up. If I decide to continue writing for this I'm ngl it seems like something I'll update monthly, because it's just kind of a lot to write but realistically I only see like 1 to 2 more parts happening. Thanks for the love and all the request for a second part hope I delivered 🫶.

Previous Part | Masterlist

Seven days. You had waited seven long days to have Wanda to yourself. Whatever apology your dad offered hadn’t placated the woman. There was still tension in the house up until the day he left. Everything was calm after that.

You spent more time with Billy and Tommy, further strengthening your bond. Wanda had been working a lot, but still made time to spend with the three of you together. Seeing the intensity of her workload, you had taken on cooking, not minding if it gave her one less thing to stress over.

You didn’t think you’d be so reluctant to let Billy and Tommy go their father’s, but when the day came you couldn’t help but fuss over them.

“Listen, I know your mom told you to call if her happened, but you can call me too. I’ll come get you guys, it’s no problem. Any time for any reason alright?”

“Thank you Y/n,” Billy speaks sincerely.

You tussle his hair, “It’s nothing.”

Tommy gives you a side hug, “Take care of our mom.”

“Will do, I’ll see you guys soon,” you chuckle.

Wanda walks them out to the car. You watch as Jarvis gets out when the boys get in. You can see him running his mouth, but it’s quite clear to you that Wanda isn’t having it. She begins chastising him in the street. The way he can’t refute her puts a smile on your face.

The asshole deserves to be treated that way. You can see the way his shoulder slump as he gets back in the car.

Anticipation builds as you see Wanda heading back to the door. This is the moment you had been waiting for. As soon as the door closes, you’re on her. Your body towers over her’s, slightly trapping her between you and the door.

You look down at her, with lustful eyes. Her hand cups the side of your face and you lean into her touch. Her gaze falls at a snail’s pace from your eyes to your lips.

“We're alone.”

“And what do you plan to do about that?”

Instead of answering the question verbally, your lips bare down on her’s. Her back hits the door with a soft thud due to your intensity. Yet she doesn't want you to slow down. Her arms lock behind your neck as her legs try to hook onto your waist. You’re quick to hold her under her thighs, supporting her with eases.

It's your sign to take her upstairs. There’s no hesitation as you head straight for the master bedroom. She giggles against your lips as you lay her onto the bed. Your kisses create a path from her lips down the side of her face to her neck. You’re careful to suck lightly, even though you wish to mark her. Your teeth glide over her skin animalistically.

Her hands roam freely under your shirt, the skin feels as though it's burning with desire. Her fingers are cold against you, but you love the contrasting sensation.

Her eyes are dark when they meet yours again, “You want to take it off for me baby?” Wanda tugs at your shirt a little and you’re eager to comply.

She slips her shirt over her head at the same time. The swells of her breast call to you immediately. The soft mounds of perfection, held up by a lace bra that left little to the imagination. Her perky nipples peak through and you can tell they’re stiff.

You can feel your hands twitching, eager to feel them, but waiting patiently for her consent.

Wanda laughs at the dumb look on your face. You’re practically drooling over her.

“Come here,” Wanda calls for you to invade her personal space and you oblige. “Unhook my bra,” her eyes dare you.

Your hands are steady as the reach behind Wanda. You undo the clasp and you can you feel yourself instantly dampen. The way your hands crave contact with the supple flesh strikes your core.

You reach for one, focusing on the soft gasps you hear from Wanda as your thumb cascades over her nipple. You rub the already stiff peak between your fingers before making a show of licking over it all the way up to the sweet spot of her neck.

An open mouth kiss lingers where your tongue stops. It’s then that you look to her. The slight swelling of her lips, the desperate looking her eye, the sweat of her brow. She was perfect and with no one around she was yours to claim.

Your eyes drop from her face down her chest to the jeans she had on.

“Ask me,” she whispers.

“I need to see it up close, please mommy,” you beg her earnestly.

She nods her head, chest already heaving lightly. Your hands reach for the top button of her jeans when your phone goes off. You ignore it the first time, but it continues to ring.

Wanda sighs thinking that you would take the call, instead she’s surprised when you simply turn off the device. With a new frustration in your movements you slide her pants down her legs.

“You aren’t going to get that?”

Your fingers toy with the elastic of her panties, “You think I’d answer the phone with you in front of me like this?”

Wanda looks away in shame, “Well-"

“He’s a fucking idiot,” you pull her panties to the side.

You lay on your stomach so that you’re eye level with her wet pussy. You’re tongue barely slides through her folds before you hear your doorbell repeatedly ringing as someone pounds on the door.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you say in frustration.

You throw your shirt back on and rush to the door. Wanda is hot on your tails with her jeans half on and her shirt in hand. You yank the door open to find Yelena standing there with a smirk on her face.

“What do you want?” You do your best not to yell at her.

Yelena holds her hands up in surrender, “I know you are, how they say, a little pent up as of late, but don’t be going and yelling at me.”

“Sorry, I was just… in the middle of something.”

“Your games can wait, tonight we club.”

You had completely forgotten.

“Right, right, the club,” you run a hand through your hair.

“I know technically she’s your friend, but I invited Kate Bishop to come with us, it’s going to be a night to never forget.”

“And when are we leaving?”

“Hmmm come over at 8, we’ll pick up Kate Bishop, and go from there.”

You nod a few times, “Cool, I’ll be over at 8.”

Yelena put a hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry, this will definitely help you with your… situation. And please don’t dress like a 12-year-old boy, you are hot, stop hiding it.”

With that Yelena leaves and you close the door.

“You’re going to a club?” Wanda’s voice startles you, you had almost forgotten that she was there.

“I guess so. I agreed to go a week ago, but it slipped my mind.”

Her eyes narrow, “And what situation is she referring to?”

You stride towards her, and place your hands on her hips, “You know, just the whole being attracted to my step mother thing. I’m supposed to go clubbing to distract me from her.”

Wanda’s cheeks get rosy, “I got you so worked up that you told the neighbor about it.”

“First of all she’s my best friend. Secondly, we had almost kissed and were trying to do the right thing. At the time the right thing was going out and having fun with people my age.” You lean in so your lips touch her ear, “But now I think I just want my mommy.”

With much effort Wanda speaks up, “It’s almost 6, you should start getting ready.”

You frown, “I don't want to go.”

“Too late, your friends are expecting you. Yelena literally almost broke the door down. Besides if you don't go tonight, she'll just try for another day. Anything to help you get over your dad’s wife, right?”

Your hand fumbles with her jeans. She doesn't stop you as you pull them down, or when you drop to your knees, “At least let me make you cum. I’ll get ready right after. I promise.”

“Y/n,” she tries to hold strong.

You nudge her legs slightly apart. Just like before your tongue swipes through her folds. This time you suck lightly on her clit before looking at her innocently.

“Want to make you cum so bad mommy, please.” you beg her, reveling in the way she tastes.

Wanda wasn’t used to this at all. Before you came it had been too long since Wanda felt attractive. She was truly astonished by the way you wanted her. In this moment denying you felt like denying herself.

Carefully her hand threaded through your hair. Her grip wasn’t tight, but you were controlled by it nonetheless.

“Go ahead baby, show me how much you need me.”

You were more anxious this time than in the bedroom. Something about this being your first time going this far with anyone finally started to rattle around in your brain. You had to make her cum, that's what you focused on.

So with your hands on her thighs and her hand in your hair, you surge forward a bit. Your tongue dips into her folds, at first dragging back and forth between them. Her taste on your tongue makes you moan. Your tongue swirls her clit before taking it into your mouth.

“You’re such a good girl for me. Flatten your tongue a little.”

You do as she says and the grip on your hair tightens slightly. She moves your head back and forth as you keep your tongue pressed against her.

“That’s it baby, get that tongue inside of me,” Wanda’s eyes are closed and her head is thrown back.

Your tongue prods against her slit trying to make its way inside of her. You move her hands to the back of her thighs pulling her closer to you. She’s as close as she can be when your tongue slips into her warm cunt. It doesn’t go in far, but it’s just enough to have her moaning your name.

“Fuck, look at me while you tongue fuck me,” she uses your hair to tilt your head up a bit.

You’re drunk on her at this point. You feel like you’re in a state of euphoria, as her juices slide down your chin.

The small pants from Wanda only spur you on. What was a slow, explorative pace turns into something fast and unhinged. You begin to fall in love with the sound of your tongue swiping through her. The sloppiness of it all feels delicious.

“I’m going to cum on that pretty little face,” it’s airy when she says it, her knees buckle.

Her hold on your hair loosens as she cums. The increase of the amount of wetness makes you want to keep going, but the shaking of Wanda’s knees make you slow. You stand, placing your hands on her hips, to help steady her.

“You taste so good mommy,” you lick your lips, keeping eye contact with the woman.

She pulls you into a deep kiss. She has a fistful of your shirt, making sure you don't pull away from her before she’s ready. Her tongue explores your mouth trying to capture every last taste of herself lingering on you.

“You did so well for me,” she pecks your lips once more.

The way your ears heat at the compliment has Wanda chuckling.

“You’re so bashful when I compliment you, pretty girl,” her hand brushes over your face.

You know that the tips of your ears are bright red by now. You burry your head in the woman’s shoulder, “It’s my first time doing anything like that.”

Wanda doesn’t believe you, “There’s no way.”

“I’m serious, the farthest I’ve gone is dry humping, this…” you pull your head out of her shoulder to motion between the two of you, “will be my first time, going past that.”

You see the look dances in her eyes, “Are you telling me, that no one has got to experience you like this before?”

“Only you mommy,” you fall into her fantasy seamlessly.

“How do you feel about that?”

Her hands subconsciously slide up and down your body. Her lip fits in-between her teeth, pulling slightly as her eyes find yours.

“I want you to take everything you want from me,” you tell her seriously.

Her fingers are cool against your skin, “You’re going to give it to me?”

You take her hand guide it down your torso and into your pants. She gasps when she feels how wet she’s made you, “Anything you want.”

“I want you… to go get ready for your night out,” she says, placing her fingers into her mouth.

She pushes you away from her playfully. You whine her, “Wanda.”

“Come on, I’ll even pick out your outfit,” she starts walking upstairs.

With your head dropped you reluctantly follow behind her, unable to stop yourself from mumbling, “Should be undressing me, instead."

“What was that?” Wanda’s sharp eyes hit yours.

You straighten your posture, “Nothing, nothing. I was just saying I can't wait to see what you pick.”

Wanda laughs, “Careful detka, I’d hate to have to give you a punishment.”

Your mouth hangs open at the thought, saliva pooling with desire.

Wanda shakes her head, grabbing you by the upper arm. She leads you to the bathroom. She shoves you inside, “You’re going to need a cold shower, to get your mind out of the gutter. While you do that, I’ll get your clothes ready.”

You try to decompress as the cold water runs down your body. Every time you take a deep inhale all you smell is Wanda on your face. You close your eyes and you see her urging you to be good for her.

You rest your head on the shower wall trying to get a grip. Your focus shifts to the way water feels against your skin. It’s cold, rigid, grounding. After you finish showering you do your skin care and brush your teeth as well.

When you make your way to the bedroom, you find Wanda sitting on your bed next to some of the clothes she had gotten for you. The towel that you had around you seems to garner a lot of her attention.

You can’t help but tease her, “You still want to help me get ready, or you just want to stare?”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, put these on, quickly so I can do your makeup.”

“I don’t really-"

“Trust me,” she bats her eyelashes at you.

You scoop up the clothes, “Fine.”

You drop the towel and she watches as you dress yourself. When you’re done, she stands and adjusts your clothes to how she likes them. You had apparently pulled the jeans up too high and she was quick to unbutton a large portion of buttons on the shirt. You had the shirt all the way tucked in and she pulled it so that one end of the shirt hung out.

You watch in your mirror, as she worked over your clothes. The shirt now plunged into a low V, which is something you never would have done on your own.

“Perfect, now get on the bed.”

You lay with your back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling pretending to be uninterested in the things Wanda is gathering in her hands. When she has the things she needs, she sets them on the bed next to your legs. The makeup is not entirely foreign to you, but you’re definitely no expert in it.

Wanda the straddles your waist, her hair dangles down as she studies your face. You feel your nerves picking up under her gaze. She was truly one of the most breathtaking people that you had ever laid your eyes on.

“Stop looking at me like that,” it’s not until she speaks that you notice her blush.

You look away, but her fingers grip your chin gently moving you back to the original position, “Sorry."

“It’s not going to be too much, I promise,” she begins applying some light make up to your face.

“Wanda, have you… done this before?”

“Makeup?”

You want to shake your head but you stop yourself because of your current predicament, “No, like been with a woman.”

“A few,” she answers nonchalantly.

“Oh.”

She doesn’t stop working, “Does that matter to you?”

“No, I was just curious.” You pause for a long moment before saying, “Like in college or?”

“Close your eyes,” she commands and your eyelids shut. “ In high school, in college, out of college, I’ve found my way around.”

“So it’s common for you, to um date women?”

Wanda nods, “Well yes, I like women, they’re pretty. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, I just- where does my dad come into the picture?”

“Cause he’s a man?”

“Well…”

Wanda chuckles to herself, “Sweetheart I like men too, maybe just a little less.”

You choke a bit, “Oh yeah, duh.”

She finishes with your eyes, “Can I ask you something, Y/n?”

“Anything.”

“Have you ever dated?”

You sputter for an answer, “ I mean- unsuccessfully, yes. Like I’ve been on dates, but they’ve never really progressed.”

“You said you dry-humped.”

You feel yourself growing embarrassed, “I did, but I never said she was my girlfriend. I’m not… people don’t really date me. I’m not exciting or adventurous or anything like that. I’ve got average looks, but I’m so socially inept that it just kind of-"

Wanda stops your rambling with a kiss, “I think you’re a catch. Now sit up so I can do your lips.”

A nasty thought swirls in your head, you try to keep it down, but it’s out of your lips before you can stop it, “I think you’re just saying that because I can make you cum.”

Wanda’s eyes look into yours, it feels like she’s staring into your soul, “I’m not. I’m saying it because you’ve shown it to me. You’re attentive, you’re dedicated, you’re kind, you know when to take charge, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’re charming, and funny, the fact that you can make me cum is just the icing on the cake. I was drawn to you before we even became intimate.”

“How can you see all that in such a short time?”

Her hand slips into yours, her thumb cascades over your knuckles, “It’s impossible not to see, Y/n.”

You clear your throat, “Sorry, I’m just not used to the um praise I guess.”

“Don’t apologize, I don't have any problems reassuring you whenever you need it. You deserve it, pretty girl,” Wanda places one more quick kiss on your lips.

She finishes up with your look. When you see yourself, a wide smile spreads across your face. You look amazing, you feel a strange sense of confidence burst through you.

“Thank you, for helping me get ready.”

“I couldn't let you go out without a little help. Now, you look good enough to eat. I hope you're prepared to keep the crowd off of you tonight.”

You reach for her and she lets herself enter your grasp, “I only have eyes for you.”

“You say that now, but it’ll be harder when some sweet young girl is pulling you onto the dance floor,” her gaze drops.

“I’ve never really had a thing for girls my age. I’ve always liked them older. Not to mention you’re the perfect woman.”

“Nobody’s perfect, Y/n,” she tries to escape your hold.

“I thought that same thing, but then I saw you and I knew I’d been lied to.”

She blushes and you let her go, “You’re so corny. I think it’s time for you to go to Yelena’s. Wouldn’t want her to come breaking down the door again.”

“And you'll be waiting for me when I come back?”

She throws you a smile over her shoulder, “ I’ll be right here.”

You send her one back. You start to head to the front door, but you turn back half way. It was impossible for you leave without giving her one last kiss.

“I’ll see you later,” you say walking away one last time.

You exit the house and head for Yelena’s, when you knock she answers quickly.

“You look amazing, I never knew this was possible for you.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up, and let's go get Kate.”

“Do I not get a compliment?”

You huff, “You look great, can we go now?”

“You’re so mean to me,” she says stepping out of her home.

She flashes her keys and you hop in the passenger seat of her car. During the drive you catch up on more that you missed while you were at school. Not just neighborhood gossip, but specifically what had been going on in Yelena’s life. When the topic shifts back to you she asks about Wanda.

“So how've you been holding up?”

You weigh your options briefly. Tell the truth or lie to Yelena. It made sense to say nothing had changed, but that's complete bullshit that Yelena would see right through.

“Things are still complicated, but it’s different now,” you say uncertainly.

“What does that mean?”

You look out of the window, “My dad’s on this trip for work, he’ll be gone for a month, maybe longer.”

“So it’s you, the kids, and Wanda?”

“Not exactly, the kids left this morning. So it’s just me and Wanda.”

Yelena whistles, “You poor soul. Just you and your forbidden fruit right there for the taking.”

You sink down in your seat, “What if I did?”

“Did what?”

“Take it; what if I crossed that line?”

Yelena laughs, “I don't think you have a shot Y/n.”

“But if I did, would it be wrong? You should've seen how they fought Yelena. My dad didn't tell Wanda about his work trip until 3 days before he was supposed to leave. She blew up on him, but well deserved. The guy hasn't changed, never there for the people that need him the most.”

She sighs, “I think morally it’s wrong. That's your dad’s wife… but if you're asking me if I'd judge you for it, then I would not. She’s an attractive, kind, woman who, let’s be honest, is too good for your dad.”

“Ok.”

“Any particular reason you are asking me this?”

You clear your throat, “Well, I- we…”

“No way,” Yelena turns to you fully.

“THE ROAD, LENA LOOK AT THE ROAD.”

She readjusts her hands on the wheel and looks forward, “Y/n did you fuck your stepmom?”

“Technically no… but maybe she came on my thigh and I ate her out,” you say it so fast Yelena almost doesn’t understand.

“Oh my god! How did this happen? What did you do? I thought we were putting distance not full sending?”

“I told you she was arguing with my dad. I kind of had to take charge of the situation. The kids were there so we went upstairs. I came back down to like be an adult and end their argument it worked. The boys fell asleep in my room so I went to theirs. She was in there… she asked me if I would leave, I said no. One thing led to another.”

“WITH THE WHOLE FAMILY THERE?!?!”

“It was the heat of the moment. We waited until the twins left before it happened again but then I was nearly cock blocked by a blonde psycho banging on my door.”

She looks at you again, “I can’t believe this. What about your dad?”

“I don't know, but I’m not giving her up without a fight,” your tone is stubborn as you speak.

“So… new plan for tonight. You’re getting wasted enough to forget the consequences of your actions.”

“Sounds good to me.”

When you pull in front of Kate's place, you go to text her, but Yelena stops you. She gets out of the car and goes up to the girl’s door. When Kate opens the door, you watch them converse.

You take note of how Yelena continuously seems to fluster Kate. You’re starting to think you know why Yelena invited the brunette in the first place.

“Hi Katie, glad you could join us.”

“I don't think I had much of a choice Yelena basically said it was for the greater good and that I needed to come for your sake.”

You give the blonde a light glare and she raises her hands in defense, “Don’t be mad at me for caring.”

“I’ll explain on the way.”

So you do just that on the way to the club. Kate’s reactions were hilarious making the blonde woman in the driver’s seat last. You had just finished when you guys arrived at the club.

“We should’ve pre-gamed harder,” Kate says when you finish telling the story. “Y/n this is quite literally the craziest thing you’ve done in your life.”

“By far,” Yelena adds on.

“I’m aware, but I can’t bring myself to regret it or feel guilty. For the first time in my life I feel like I’m doing something for myself.”

Yelena parks the car as you get close to the destination. You all get out and begin walking to the club.

“You know what? Fuck yeah, Y/n,” Kate pulls you into her side.

Yelena puts her hand on your shoulder, “And when this inevitably goes wrong or gets super complex, we’ll be here for you irregardless.”

“Regardless,” Kate corrects her.

“Same thing.”

You wrap your arms around both of them, “Enough talking, tonight we drink. To being young, wild, and reckless.”

As you enter the building the music is blasting at max volume. It’s packed, as people dance to the beat of the song. Bodies are everywhere and the only lights are the colorful splotches that move across the room.

“I thought you hated the club?”

“I do, but hopefully drinking will change that,” you scream over the music.

Yelena takes charge leading the three of you to the bar. There’s two seats so you stand as the other two sit down. The blonde has already ordered a round of shots for you to down.

She reaches her hand out to Kate who takes it curiously. Yelena pulls Kate into her lap, and your former dorm mate yelps in surprise. Your neighbor keeps the smile on her face as she looks at you, “Sit.”

You eye them, “Is there something I should know about?”

Kate turns a deep shade of red, “Uh um.”

Yelena just chuckles, “No, but I am working on it. Are you opposed to this Kate Bishop?”

“Well, no,” she cautiously meets Yelena’s eyes.

“Perfect, I’ll drink to that,” Yelena picks up one of the shots.

You two follow suit, immediately as she orders another round. It takes about 4 shots before you feel the nerves that you had settle.

Guess by Charli XCX and Billie Eilish starts to play in the club.

“I fucking love this song, let’s dance,” Kate gets off Yelena’s lap and pulls her to the dance floor.

You follow the pair feeling the beat of the song travel through your body. Your dancing consist of a lot of jumping as you scream the lyrics along with the rest of the club.

You’re in your own world so you don't notice a girl dancing behind you until you almost turn into her.

“Hi,” she shouts over the music.

“Hi,” you don't stop dancing.

Your movements cause a smile to spread across her face, “I like the way you dance.”

“Thanks, it’s the alcohol.”

“I’m Cass, do you mind if I dance with you?”

In the moment you thought nothing of it, “Sure, I'm Y/n.”

You dance with the brunette. There are a few times when her hands brush against your body, but you think it's tight space, that makes it impossible to be anything but close to her. You end up being pushed up against each other. She stumbles into your arms. You grab her shoulders so she doesn't fall.

“You good there?”

“You’re really pretty, and oh your arms are pretty buff too,” she looks up at you through her eyelashes.

It sobers you up a bit, “You here alone Cass?”

She shakes her head, “No I came with my friends.”

“Let’s help you find them.”

She grabs on to your shirt, “But I like it here, with you.”

You take her hand in yours and off of your shirt, “That's nice, but what if your friends are worrying about you?”

“You’ll keep me safe won’t you,” her hand moves to swipe some hair behind your ear.

“Y/n, there you are… who is this?”

“This is Cass, she needs to find her friends,” you look at them for help.

She pouts, “Why, when the girl of my dreams is right in front of me?”

Kate interjects, “Don’t you want to introduce her to your friends?”

Cass's eyes sparkle and she grabs your wrist, “Eli and America will love you.”

She begins dragging you through the club while both of your friends do their best to keep up.

“Cassandra Lang, we've been looking for you, “ another girl comes up and pulls the blonde from you.

“America, this is Y/n the love of my life,” Cass throws her arms around her friend.

Her friends raises an eyebrow as she looks at you. You shake your head.

“I’m not the love of her life. I found her on the dancefloor and thought I'd try to get her to her friends,” you explain.

Cass frowns, “But I thought we had something?”

A man approaches and ruffles her hair, “You have had too many drinks. Sorry about her.”

“It’s alright. Well I’m going to get another drink. It was nice dancing with you Cass,” you send her polite smile.

“I love you, Y/n,” she says as you walk away.

“She was pretty cute, Y/nn,” Kate says as you wait for another drink.

“Kate Bishop remember she’s whipped by the red headed milf,” Yelena reminds her.

You nod as you sip your drink, “Damn right.”

You pull out your phone and see you have a couple missed calls from your dad. He calls again while the phone’s in your hand. You pick it up even though you can barely hear it in the club.

“Hello!”

“Kid where are you at? I’ve called you and Wanda and I haven’t-”

“I’m clubbing, Wanda’s home. I’ll talk to you later,” you hang up on him before he says anything else.

You down your drink and get another after that.

“You don’t want to slow down?” Yelena watches you.

“Nope.”

You don’t slow down. Having a few more drinks before hitting the dance floor again. You’re definitely a little more than buzzed. The more you start to realize how intoxicated you are, the more you want to go home.

Your mind starts to wander to Wanda. Her body, her lips on your neck, her voice in your ear. You start to picture her riding you, but not your thigh this time. She’s fully naked bouncing on your lap and your mouth is occupied sucking on her nipples.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself.

You see Yelena and Kate dancing in the corner. It looks like they’re caught up with each other. As much as hated to interrupt them you did it anyway.

“Lovebirds, I’m going to get a Lyft home,” you shout at them.

“You don't want me to take you, I haven’t had anything since we came in?” Yelena says.

“Nah, you two have fun, ok?”

Yelena nods, “Let us know when you make it safe.”

“Will do.”

The Lyft ride is a little hazy. By the time you get to your house, it feels like you’re in full heat.

You attempt to open the door but the key keeps slipping through your fingers. Your hands are shaking as you attempt to get in. The door swings open causing you to drop they keys.

You crouch down to get them off the ground. When you raise your head, you see Wanda looking down at you with her arms crossed.

A silk robe adorned her body and it left little to the imagination.

“Your dad called me, he’s mad I let you go to a club,” she says.

“Oh.”

She tilts her head to the side, “Are you going to say down there all night?”

You stand up quickly, nearly dropping the keys again. When you step into the house, Wanda closes the door behind you.

“How’d you get home?”

You stare brute answering, “Lyft.”

“Where’s Yelena?”

“She stayed with Kate at the club. I wanted to come home. I missed you,” you step into her personal space, hands playing with the bottom of her silk robe.

“We have to talk about what your dad said,” Wanda tries to grab your attention.

“I don’t want to talk about him. I want to show you how much I missed you,” your warm hand closes over her cool one.

You slide her hand into your pants. Her fingers brush in-between your fold barely grazing your clit as she pulls her hand away.

“You’re drunk,” Wanda says it more to herself than you.

“And horny. So definitely not the time to talk about my dad. Especially when all I can think about is mommy.”

Wanda visibly sigh before taking your hand in hers and pulling you up the stairs. You finally think you’re getting what you need, until she directs you towards the bathroom.

Once you’re in there you sit on the counter top.

“Y/n you need to- what’s that?”

Your brows furrow, “What?”

“That on your chest,” Wanda’s jaw clenches as she speaks.

You try to look down at your chest failing to see what she’s talking about, “My boobs?”

“There’s lipstick on you,” she swipes her thumb across it raising up so you can see the pink color coating it.

“Oh, it must be from Cass.”

“Who’s Cass?”

Your eyes close as you try to recount the story, “There was this girl at the club, she was dancing with me and saying that I was like the love of her life or something? She was so drunk she fell like into me. We found her friends though, and then I got more drinks. She was kind of pretty but like my friends said I’m whipped by this red headed milf that lives in my house. Whoops sorry I said milf.”

Wanda went through a lot of emotions as you were speaking. The thought that some girl from the club tried to claim you made her jealous. Some girl putting her hands on you, her lips on you, saying you were the love of her life just made her furious. However she thought it was cute that you said you were whipped for her. She also didn’t hate being called a milf.

“Y/n let’s get you cleaned up,” Wanda turns on the shower.

“If I take my clothes off, will you fuck me?”

She snorts, “No, because you’re drunk.”

You pout, “This fucking sucks.”

Wanda kisses your forehead, “If you can get yourself clean and ready for bed, we can kiss a little.”

That’s all it takes for your clothes to come off and you to rush into the shower. While you’re in the shower Wanda picks out some pajamas for you and takes them back into the bathroom. She decides to wait for you to finish in your room. She makes herself comfortable on your bed.

Around 10 minutes later she hears your feet padding along the hallway floor. Soon you’re opening the door and falling face first into the bed, the alcohol making you sleepy.

“So too tired to kiss?”

She doesn’t expect a response, but she finds it adorable when you scoot closer to her. Your legs tangle with her and you drape an arm over her. Lastly you lift your head, with your eyes still closed, puckering your lips.

She gives you a soft kiss and you tuck your head into her shoulder. You mumble a ‘goodnight’ and it seems you’re out in an instant.

When you wake up the next morning the bed is empty. There’s hardly any light peeking through your curtains, but the little light that is makes you squint your eyes. Your head is throbbing and you groan recounting how much you drank last night.

When you sit up in the bed you notice the water and what you assume to be Advil on your bed side table. You gulp down the water and take the pills without hesitation.

You check your phone and your eyes widen as you see that it is 2pm. The time shocks you but doesn’t make you move any faster. You change into some sweats before brushing your teeth and heading downstairs.

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you until the sun went down again,” Wanda calls from the kitchen.

You follow her voice, seeing her wash dishes. You move with confidence, hugging her from behind and resting your head on top of hers.

“I’m never going clubbing again,” you kiss the top of her head.

“Do you remember anything from when you came home?”

You frown, “Something about my dad.”

She turns in your arms, “Yeah, he called me pretty upset because someone hung up in his face.”

“Well what was I supposed to do? I could hardly hear him. Plus he only called me because you weren’t answering,” you explain to her.

“I told him you were old enough to make your own decisions and that I wouldn’t be stopping you “

“Good.”

“I also told him you’d call him back today…”

You separate from her begrudgingly, “Fine, I’ll get it over with now.”

The call to your dad was nothing special. He tried to scold you a little bit, but you reminded him that you were an adult that could do what you wanted. Then he turned the conversation into just wanting to make sure you’re safe and that home is safe. He asked about if you knew what Wanda was up to while you were gone which threw you for a loop.

He was extra curious about her whereabouts and activities since she was home alone. You told him you didn’t know. With the boys gone and your night out it was seeming like he was stressing about what she could’ve been doing.

“I just want to make sure that you know there’s nothing strange going on while I’m away,” he says towards the end of the conversation.

“What you think she’s having someone come over or something?”

He pauses, “No, I just- sometimes when Jarvis stops by, I get a little territorial you know, like this is mine and-”

“You don’t own her dad and I’ll have you know she actually just laid into him yesterday about what he’s been saying to Billy.”

“I wasn’t saying I owned her. It’s just Wanda is an amazing woman and I just don’t want to lose her.”

You roll your eyes, “Well that’s what conversation is for. Talk to her, communicate your feelings, and trust her.”

You hear him click his tongue, “I see what you’re saying. I gotta go kid, I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”

When he gets off of the phone you’re annoyed with him. However it’s a little funny that he has every right to be worried. He doesn’t know the person he’s worried about is you.

“So what did he want?”

“To make sure you weren’t inviting anyone over while no one else was home because, and this is a direct quote, he gets a little territorial and you are his.”

She ponders, “Well I am his wife.”

You disagree, “His wife not his property. He doesn't own you.”

“And if we were married instead?”

“If we were married you would be mine but I would be yours too. I’d trust you and your judgement. There’s no way I’d ask my kid to keep tabs on you,” you say without skipping a beat.

“He’s got you all worked up, sweetheart,” Wanda gets behind you and starts rubbing your shoulders. “You’re too young to be this tense, go sit on the couch for me.”

Shortly after you sit on the couch Wanda stands behind you, continuing to put a subtle pressure on your shoulders.

A moan drips from your mouth as she works the knots in your shoulders, “Oh god.”

“You know I was thinking last night about how you've made feel good and I haven't returned the favor. I think it would really get some of this tension off of you baby.”

You tilt your head back to stare up at her. She pecks your lips once, twice, three times before your hands rests on her face holding her in the upside-down kiss.

Her hand reaches to tug at the bottom of your shirt. You eagerly pull it over your head. She takes the time to rid herself of her shirt as well. She comes over to the other side of the couch so she’s facing you.

Almost like you did yesterday she gets on her knees. She pulls your sweats and you help her get them off.

She kisses up your thighs, your legs tremble with excitement. It causes her to giggle against you but she doesn’t stop with her kisses.

When she reaches your underwear she makes eye contact with you, “Are you sure?”

“Please mommy, I want to cum,” you say not breaking eye contact.

She rids you of the underwear and spreads your legs a bit. Just from a small make out and shoulder rub, you’re wet.

Wanda plays with idea in her mind of what she wants to do first. She decides to slide one of her fingers inside of you. She watches the way your hands squeeze the couch cushions.

“You’re so tight and warm. I don’t think your pussy would even give me my finger back,” she watches as your cunt sucks in her finger.

Her pumps are slow at first to allow you to adjust but soon she picks up the speed.

“More, I need more please,” you say with your eyes screwed shut.

“Look at me,” Wanda commands.

You do as you’re told and she slips in another finger at your compliance. Your head falls forward and your breathing intensifies as you watch her finger fuck you.

“That’s it pretty girl, open up for me,” she starts spreading you with her fingers.

Her thumb makes light contact with your clit. You almost arch off of the couch, but she keeps you grounded.

“So sensitive baby, could you handle it if I-” she cuts herself off, deciding to stroke your clit with her tongue. It’s sensual as she takes it into her mouth, sucking lightly. Her fingers continuing to pump into you.

“I- fuck, I’m going to cum,” you mewl, gripping onto the couch with all of your strength.

“Cum for mommy,” Wanda looks up at you briefly before refocusing on your pussy.

Her teasing pace becomes more solid as her fingers and tongue work in tandem to bring you to your climax.

The heat builds inside of you, unlike anything you've experienced by yourself, and soon it’s seeping out of you. Your body convulses as you cum with Wanda’s mouth on your clit and fingers buried inside you.

Your eyes are wide and breathing is short as she slowly works you through your orgasm. When she senses you’ve come down, she climbs up into your lap. Her lips capture yours in a sweet kisses.

She’s gentle as your tired lips attempt to keep up with her’s. Your hands finally leave the couch cushions to rest on her lower back, unwilling to put any distance between the two of you.

“You did so well for me detka,” she strokes your hair, kissing you on your forehead.

“I’ve never felt anything like that in my life,” you say breathlessly.

Wanda takes your earlobe in her mouth playfully, “Get used to it.”

She attempts to get out of your lap, but you don’t let her, “What about you?”

“I have to get back to work.”

You plead, “I can be quick.”

The desperation in your tone only makes her more wet than she already is. She ponders over what to do. Then she realizes, that perhaps, she could do both.

“Follow me, leave your pants off,” she taps your shoulder twice, slipping out of your hold.

She throws her shirt back over her head and walks upstairs. You follow her, naked and on slightly unsteady legs.

She leads you into the main bedroom. She has her work equipment set up on the desk in the corner. You watch as she goes into the closet, anxious to see what the woman was planning.

When she comes back she has a shoe box in hand. She sits it on the bed and beckons you closer before opening it.

“You’re going to fill me up while I work,” She holds up a harness, and you feel yourself getting warm at the thought.

She helps you put it on, attaching what you believe to be a slightly larger than usual dildo. She lubes it up before passing you to her office chair. She lightly pushed you down on top the seat.

You watch as she makes quick work of removing her pants. You lick your lips when you notice the wet spot she had in her panties.

Her hands hold the arm rests of the chair while you take her hips in your hand helping lower her on to the strap.

You focus on the way her breath hitches as she takes more and more of you. Once you’re all the way in she slowly rides you. The way her pussy opens around the cock has you mesmerized. You test your luck thrusting lightly into her, eliciting a light whine.

“I love the way you feel inside me,” she rolls her hips again.

Your hand move to rest on her stomach, while your head rests on her shoulder. You peer at the computer screen in front of you, vaguely posing attention to what she's working on.

“Are you going to be able to finish, like this?”

“The work or…”

You kiss her shoulder, “Both.”

She nods, “I think so. I just need you to move for me, slowly almost the same pace as your breathing. Build me up so I can cum on your fat cock. Can you do that for mommy?”

You carefully thrust inside her, “I can do that. “

You watch as she edits the document before her, following the pattern that she set. Soon it just becomes mindless as you push into her. She’s making a mess all over your thigh, but staying completely composed at the same time.

You have no idea how long you've say for when she finally finishes with the document. Her breathing becomes shallow and her head rest on the desk.

The change gives you a small concern, “Wanda?”

She maneuvers so that she’s facing you, the cock still buried inside of her waterfall of a cunt. Her eyes are closed as her forehead rests against yours.

“Fuck me,” she pleads. “Hard, fast, and sloppy.”

You lift her a but to give you some leverage. She takes a deep breath and that's when you begin pounding her pussy.

The rapid change in movements has the woman screaming into the room. The sound o of your skin slapping together, with the stickiness of her juices is delicious.

“Don’t stop, don't you fucking stop.”

Your breathing pick us as well, “You’re so hot like this mommy. Full of me, begging for more. I wish you could sit on my cock all day. I love having your pussy leaking all over my lap.”

“Oh shit,” she says as you begin to fuck her faster.

You take initiative forcing her to stand, before pushing her head down against the desk. Your legs are a little numb, but you know she's close so you fuck her into the table.

“That’s it baby, make mommy cum all over your cock. Make me your little cock slut. I'm yours baby, mommy’s all yours.”

It's unexpected when you feel yourself release at her words. The stutter in your movements is enough to send Wanda over the edge too. You can almost feel it as her cunt pulses on the dildo.

You move to take it out of her but she stops you, “Not yet, baby.”

You stay inside of her, placing scattered kisses over her skin. She eventually signals for you to pull out. She shutters at the empty feeling. You turn her around so you can kiss her properly.

Your lips find hers with a sensual passion. It’s slow and methodical when you nip at her bottom lip. She hold your face in her hands tenderly as you kiss.

“You’re so good to me,” she says with one final peck to your lips. “I want to take you out.”

“Like a date?”

“Ideally yes,” she plays with the hairs on the back of your neck.

You kiss her forehead, “Sounds good.”

The rest of the day passes by blissfully. You spend it with Wanda, just relaxing. The two of you talk and get to know each other better. She finally tells you about her childhood, which is where you find out where she’s from. The slip of her accent finally being explained. She tells you about her parents and her brother.

Before you could see what kind of person Wanda was, but now you felt like you actually knew her. It felt like more than just a physical attraction before, but now, you were sure.

Wanda knew a few things about you from what your father had told her, but not necessarily anything meaningful. You told her about your upbringing with a single father. The woes of navigating life semi-independently at such a young age. Your struggle with socialization and how Yelena was really there for you whenever you needed her.

You shared positive things too. The little pieces of mischief that you and Lena had got into as children. The fleeting, but bright memories you had of your mom. You talked about your passion for literature and meeting Kate at college.

It was nice having someone be interested in your life for once. Wanda also felt this was the first time someone had cared to know more about her in what seemed like an eternity. You both found yourselves enthralled with one another.

Similarly to your first outing together, you both fell asleep on the couch while something played on the TV. The only thing that woke you up was your phone ringing.

You reach to for it groggily with your eyes still closed.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, d-do you think you could come get us?”

Your eyes shoot open immediately. You check the time and it’s nearly 2am. Wanda is laying somewhat across your lap.

“Yeah Tommy, just send me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can. What happened?”

You stealthily move from the couch, careful not to wake Wanda.

“Billy and dad got into a huge fight. It got physical and I tried to step in, but I didn’t know what to do and-”

“He hit you?” It’s a challenge to keep your voice down as you head for the front door.

“No, but he hit Billy. It was a proper fight I had to get in between them."

You feel your jaw twitching, “Where’s Billy now?”

“He’s asleep, I just… I don’t know if we’re safe here. I know we just left but-”

You stop him, “Tommy, I told you to call me, didn’t I? I don’t care if you were still on the block, I’d come get you and it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’m glad you called me.”

“Thank you, I’m sending the address now.”

You type it into your phone, “I should be there in 20 minutes alright? Make sure you have your stuff and your brother’s stuff too. Do you know if your dad is still awake?”

“I think he’s asleep, but he’s a light sleeper. We should be able to get out though,” Tommy says.

“Good, I'm on my way. I’ll see you soon.”

The call ends after that. You take off, following the directions to the address. The speed limits seems more irrelevant by the minute.

You honestly can’t believe that Jarvis got into a fight with Billy, after he had just been scolded by Wanda. If he didn’t enjoy that, whatever happens after she finds out about this is going to be 10 times worse.

Honestly you wanted to get your hands on the man yourself. Who did he think he was putting his hands on Billy?

When you pull in front of the house you text Tommy. He responds saying they'd be right down. You keep the car running, watching the front door. You don’t wait too long before you see Billy and Tommy come out. They make it halfway through the lawn before the front door opens again.

“Where do you think you’re going at this hour?”

You get out of the car, calling to Tommy and Billy, “Boys get in.”

They hurry to the car with their father chasing after them. You rush onto the lawn, blocking his path, while they hop in the car.

“What’re you even doing here? You can’t just take my kids, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Call the police? I’d bet they’d love to know that you’re hitting your kids.”

“How I discipline my son, is none of your business,” he glares at you.

Your jaw twitches, “Maybe it’s not my business, but we’ll see what Wanda thinks of all of this.”

He grabs a handful of your shirt, “You little unwanted shit.”

You shove him hard and he falls to the ground. You can’t resist the urge to kick him while he’s down. With one strong kick to his gut, you leave in his lawn, getting back in your car.

You don’ waste time driving away from his house. It’s quiet, with no one saying anything. When you catch a red light you look in the back, and gaso as you see Billy. He has a cut above his eyebrow and his right eye has swelling. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“He did that to you?”

“I got him pretty good too and I’m sure he’s feeling that kick you gave him,” he says smugly.

You crack a small smile, “Your mom is going to be pissed.”

“Do you think-”

“We have to tell her. Besides she’s going to see you, Billy. I wouldn’t be surprised if-”

Your phone starts ringing in the center console. You know it’s Wanda, you can just tell. You tell Tommy to answer the phone.

“Hi mom. Yeah, I called Y/n. Look can we just explain when we get there, it’s only like 5 minutes. Love you too, bye.”

He hangs up the phone.

“I was going to say I wouldn’t be surprised if she was awake,” you finish your sentence.

“Do you think she'll be mad we didn't call her?”

“No, I don't think that matters here. As long as your safe she would never be mad at you,” you level with both boys.

You can tell the boys are nervous when you park the car. The silence is loud and it has little to do with the fact it’s a little past 3am.

You don’t have the words to comfort them in the moment, but you’re certain everything will be ok. When you unlock the door, both boys try to rush upstairs. You grab both of them by the backs of their shirts.

The timing lines up to when the light turns on. Wanda doesn’t get a word out before Billy’s face is in her hands.

“Mom I’m fine,” he says as she pulls his face in multiple directions.

“What happened to you?”

Tommy speaks in his place, “Dad happened.”

“Jarvis did this to you?” There’s a slight disbelief in her voice.

“We got into a fight over my boyfriend and things escalated. Then when Y/n came in got us he tried to fight her too.”

Wanda has fury in her eyes and you take that as a sign to intervene, “Why don’t you guys go upstairs and get some rest? I think it’s best to talk about it when everyone is well rested.”

They look at their mother for conformation and when she nods they hurry upstairs.

“You, kitchen, now,” she says leading the way and you follow behind her. She waits for you to explain, her arms folded over her chest.

“Tommy called me and asked me to come get them. He said that things got physical between Billy and Jarvis. So I obviously went to pick them up.”

“Did he try to get physical with you too?”

You put your hand on your forehead, “I don’t know. He snatched me up by the shirt and I pushed him down, then kicked him in the stomach. I mean he could’ve just been trying to scare me off.”

“I’m going to have to call my lawyer. There’s no way I’m letting him anywhere near my kids again.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up, it just seemed so urgent. I wasn’t even fully awake when I was talking to Tommy.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, for going to get them.”

The shift in her moods is understandable, but you’re still unsure of how to properly navigate it.

“I’m going to bed, maybe you should too. Lawyers aren’t typically taking calls this hour,” you give her a tight-lipped smile, leaving the kitchen.

“ Wait,” she stops you in your tracks.

You turn to face her and hardly have any time to process it as she wraps her arms around you in a strong hug. You hold her just as tight, rubbing soothing circles on her back. You kiss the top of her head.

“He’s okay. Everything’s going to be ok,” you mumble into her hair.

She takes a shaky breath, reluctantly leaving your arms, “Let’s go."

When you reach the top of the stairs, you let out a sigh. Now that the boys are back, you need to be more careful. That means you sleep in your room and Wanda sleeps in her’s.

With emotions running high both of you could use someone to lay with tonight, but it’s not in the cards.

Wanda kisses your cheek, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you watch her disappear into the master bedroom before heading to your own.

You get in tour bed, trying to stop your mind from racing. You think about Wanda, her kids, Jarvis, and your own father. It’s finally starting to hit you that you might be in over your head.

You shake the thoughts away, knowing only one thing to be true; Wanda was worth all of the hardship to come.

[wandagcre]

it's a trap (when you act like that) | wanda maximoff 🔞

(College!Perv!Best friend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)

You cannot quite relate to the topic of pleasure. Being introverted and shy, your circle of people was limited, but you're more than grateful that Wanda - your best friend - is always there to help you out.

WARNING: corruption kink, pillow riding, first times, fingering, praise, wanda talking you through it - not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 4.2k

[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]

For an hour, you settled on reading in comfortable silence with your best friend. Wanda laid on your lap comfortably, unlike you, she gave up skimming on her notes a few minutes ago. 

You giggle each time you catch her gaze on you. It was inquisitive and sometimes Wanda made silly faces. Thoughtful as ever, she’d pop in some candy in your mouth.

Her auburn hair grew out – instead, her brunette tresses were back. It was tempting for you the way they were sprawled out, wanting to comb them with your fingers and drop your notes – only having to listen to what stories your best friend would tell.

Lately, you noticed it’s been hard to be around Wanda. You can no longer hold her gaze than usual and you physically want to be closer to her – which was no problem because your best friend was always attentive and touchy with you. 

“Have you been working out? Look at these thighs,” You sharply inhaled as you felt fingertips, running feather-like on your skin. Wanda caught the act and it made her giggle softly. 

You shyly shook your head. “N-no. I haven’t.” 

She seemed not to buy your response. It’s the truth. Even if you indulged in some exercises, your workout routine was not strict about any type of weight lifting. Not like you had the time and all. In fact, it was one of the things that sometimes pulled you into your insecure thoughts, thinking that you’ve got an unattractive pair.

However, Wanda loves them as they were. She liked it when you got experimental with your wardrobe, changing it up with some short skirts that highlighted your legs and its curves. More so with your comfort in plain shorts, as it rewarded your best friend more of its exposure.

What Wanda didn’t like was winter and how it took away the sight of your gorgeous thighs. 

You insisted, “I’m serious! If you consider getting food from the top and bottom shelf of the fridge as squatting, then, my answer is yes.”

“Well, they look good to me. Keep it up.” Wanda playfully remarked. You chuckled lightly, not trusting your voice at the moment. “Want me to pull away?” 

Her voice was hypnotizing – insanely soothing. Almost like a balm, you’d say. Enough to make you re-read the damn sentence on your notes because you barely understood them. It doesn’t help that she kept her ministrations – tracing circular patterns that ascend to your inner thighs, causing goosebumps to wake.

“Took me by surprise, that's all. You can keep doing that if you want.”

“Is it relaxing?” Wanda whispered.

You shudder a bit and it made you scuffle in your position. “Kinda like you playing with my hair…”

Wanda was amused. You briefly wondered what was the joy in this – riling you up in some way. Were your reactions too entertaining? She had always been full of mischief, but lately, hanging out with your best friend made you…tense. It was not uncomfortable in a way that her actions burned, maybe they did, but in a different context. A realm you’ve never touched on – spurring you to confusion furthermore.

Her forefinger grazed over the space between your eyebrows. “What’s got you all so worked up, honey? You got this crease going on – you’re too tense. Wanna take a break?”

“Okay, yeah. That sounds nice.” You gave in. You couldn’t even process them anyway. 

You still appeared as bothered from Wanda’s point of view. She moved away from laying down between your thighs, looking at you who refused to meet her eyes. She was growing concerned. Had she overstepped this time?

Wanda was clueless. “Are you seeing someone?”

You looked incredulously at the woman.

“That’s out of the blue, Wands.”

“Can’t blame a girl for asking, (y/n/n). You’re usually reserved, I get that, but lately you seem to be always in deep thought? You know I can help, right?”

“I-I want to tell you but it can get weird.”

“Weird? Baby, we’ve known each other for years. How worse can it possibly get?” Wanda asked incredulously. Now she was concerned.

There’s nothing to hide. Wanda had a point, you thought. 

You whisper, “Lately, um. I-I’ve been trying to discover something.”

“Okay…” Wanda hummed, eyes focused on your lips.

You weren’t hesitant out of fear of being judged, but you didn’t know where your boundaries stood. 

Although, you remember how Wanda was so thoughtful that every time you bought some undies, she volunteers to come along and when you ask for her opinion, she carefully takes time to examine them. 

You remember her fingers tracing along the seams, making you turn around, asking for permission to touch so she can examine the material further around your butt and how it clung to your hips. They shouldn’t be tight, Wanda said.

“And it’s about pleasure. You know, that stuff.” You flail your hands. Can this get more embarrassing?

Meanwhile, Wanda was absolutely having the time of her life. She couldn't believe that this was happening. Of course, as the role of best friend, she would be very ecstatic to lead you.

She starts with a lilt of teasing in voice. “Sorry, honey, but there’s many things that can go around the topic of pleasure. I’m going to need you to elaborate.”

Poor you, didn’t even catch up to her teasing. You had enough.

“Touching the southern part!” You blurt out.

“Oh!”

“Yeah,”

“Huh.” Wanda looked inquisitive. Her head tilted to the side in faux wonder. In truth, she was thinking of ways to help you – defile you in this very bed – if she’s sly enough.

You groaned. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

“See, now it’s weird. I shouldn’t have-”

“No, no. It’s not weird. In fact, it’s normal to be curious about that. What’s your problem with it?”

“I don’t think I’m doing it right. I feel bad because I heard discussions about it – overheard some girls from my class. It’s all the hype I can’t get onto– I just don’t seem to get there–” 

You were rambling all things at once. Wanda had to process the thought of you touching yourself and getting frustrated, of course you wouldn’t know. You needed her – someone to get through it.

And Wanda was more than willing to step up.

With a glint in her eye, she suggests, “Want me to help you?”

Were you hearing things right? Surely, you misheard Wanda. Your mind couldn’t wrap the thought of it. How on earth can she help you? Maybe she’ll write them down or give you a video that wasn’t too explicit as porn. She knew that you hated them, after all. 

“You–won’t that be weird between us? And how?”

“Don’t even think about that. It’s me, honey. You can always count on me. Even about these types of situations. Do you trust me?”

You answered in a heartbeat. “More than anyone.”

“Good. What do you think, do you wanna get started?”

Right now? Your eyes widened. But there won’t be another time, you suppose. “Shit. Okay, yeah, sure.”

“We’ll take things slow, hm?” She bit her lip, trying to contain her excitement. Seeing you all bare for her – Wanda might as well cum at the mere thought of it. The way you nodded attentively made her stomach flip. “We’re going to test the waters. Since you’re having trouble with your fingers, we can do that later. Maybe we’ll try a different approach.”

Your cheeks burned at Wanda’s elaborate plan. “O-okay. I’ll listen to you.”

Wanda purses her lips and moves closer to you. You looked apprehensive, but not as much previously. Good.

“Have you ever heard about riding a pillow?”

“N-no…” You meekly answered. Porn was straight to the point. Too uncomfortable for your liking. It was penetration and done. You tried watching one or two, then that was it – you never thought about revisiting and looking further beyond that. “That’s a thing?”

Wanda, however, couldn’t help but scoot closer to you. How she was very elated to hear this – the woman couldn’t wait to introduce more things to you in the future, to be the one showing you the ropes of it.

“Yes it is. Some find it very rewarding. It’s so easy. ” She supplements.

Out of curiosity, you cannot filter yourself. “What about you… have you ever?”

“Yeah, I have.” She smoothly replied. Wanda was so self-assured, you can’t help but envy it a little. “And don’t worry, I’ll be guiding you at every step of the way, honey. Exploration of what you like and how it works is nothing to be ashamed of.”

It did the trick for you; Wanda picked up a relief sigh coming out of you. She smiled, rubbing your thighs enough to create a comfortable warmth.

“Use my pillow – don’t worry, it’s easy to get them washed.” Your movements were slow and hesitant, continuously looking back and forth to Wanda’s piercing green eyes and to her pillow innocently hanging at the corner of her bed. Grabbing the item, she shoots you a proud smile. “Now, take your bottoms off for me.” 

For Wanda. You felt the heat creep from your stomach, riding in waves, up to your neck and whole face. She nudges you by nodding her head. You’re entirely sure that you’re beyond stunned right now. Discarding your shorts and underwear at the same time, you quickly throw them away and cross your thighs. Wanda’s words being uttered in an authoritative and raunchy manner was enough to make you wet – you didn’t want her to see the proof of that.

“So good. You’re doing so, so well baby.” Wanda licked her bottom lip in anticipation. “Now, flip that pillow by its seams – the edges are an important part of this. Then, just mount it.”

Your heart raced – you can’t believe that this was happening – you’re about to ride a pillow in front of your attractive best friend and she’ll talk you through your first orgasm. Right here in her own cramped bed and pillow. Doing as Wanda says, you spread your legs apart and mounted the pillow that stood by its edges. You gasped at the sensation; it was the softest thing your core has ever touched and it was slightly cold.

Looking back at Wanda, she seemed lost in your center – who wouldn’t be, given this rare opportunity? She always had a crush on you. But you didn’t even notice. Now, your friendship was taken on the next level, she thanked any deity out there for her patience. ((And her power over you right now? It was hard not to revel in that.))

You looked so adorable. Wanda could compare you to bambi right now, especially when you thought you were being sly. She saw the slick forming on your pussy from earlier as you were stripping. It was mouthwatering that it drove Wanda insane, prickling through each nerve of her body.

“What next?” You shakily asked. It was intimidating to have her eyes fixated on you – you couldn’t decipher what was going on behind those green eyes.

“Gyrate your hips. Back and forth, slowly.” Wanda orders with a low voice.

She watches you try to move back and forth at the pillow. Your pussy grazed on the fabric, making your eyes flutter at each soft contact, but it wasn’t enough for your pleasure nor Wanda’s.

She waddled closer and placed her hands firm on your hips. You bite the inside of your cheek, slowing down your motion out of surprise. The least you can do was have an ounce of dignity, you couldn’t moan in front of Wanda.

You sweet thing, Wanda thought. It was evident how desperate you were in your soft and messy thrusts. She was focused on how you moved your hips clumsily and your folds wetter, the pillow darkening as your arousal stained them.

She couldn’t take it much longer.

“You’re almost bouncing, honey. Do it like this – in sliding motions.” A moan inevitably escaped your lips as she pushed your hips alone, quite literally guiding you. Wanda shuddered in delight. “Want that pretty pussy of yours gliding in, get that friction working already. Don’t be afraid to put all of your weight in it. It’s much better, trust me (y/n/n).”

Pretty? Wanda even used it in an inappropriate context. It affected you more than you thought it would, that you felt a spurt of liquid drip from your core. Was it supposed to be like this? It was better than previously. Maybe it was truly your form that made a better change. You thrust your hips more and no longer hesitated upon resting your lower body’s weight. 

It was much better, just like Wanda had said.

Wanda’s bed creaked louder and louder. Of course, you were getting lost in your own needs – you didn’t even notice.

Your resolve was visibly breaking in front of Wanda which she absolutely relished on.

“Don’t let me stop you from moaning, baby. It’s all about your pleasure.” Wanda gently reassured you. It was all you needed apparently to let loose. “Thrust your hips harder.” She commands you. It sparked more need that travelled to your lower stomach down to your core. 

Was this the feeling people always blabbered about? Because you’re sure that you understood it now. It completely took over your senses like crazy.

Your hands placed in front for balance, you do as your best friend said. She truly knows her way around here. You haven’t felt this needy before. The friction she mentioned was settling in quickly and it was addicting against your pussy. You close your eyes and arch your back. The softness soon burned – a delicious contradiction – and it was enough to make you feel soaked.

“Just like that…” Her hips have never left yours and matched the rough sliding motions, grasping firm around your bare skin. “It feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so great.” For me, Wanda wanted to add.

“M-mm, y-yes,” You whimpered and nodded dumbly. 

“You can also experiment with other motions – try what’s best for you. You can do circles with your hips,”

You immediately try as she recommended. Wanda had to stifle a giggle right then and there. Her headboard was starting to hit against the wall with your messy yet hard thrusts. It was obvious that the pleasure was brewing already, to which Wanda deviously smiled at. 

“Can I touch you down there? I bet it’s sticky already…” She whispered directly to your ear. You feel your best friend’s hot-white breath grazing satisfactory against your neck. It tickles! 

It wouldn’t hurt right? It was a part of the lesson, you suppose. Wanda knew better and you trusted her. “Y-yes. You can touch me, Wands.”

Without further ado, your best friend immediately went in to trace your outer folds. Fuck, you were so wet. You immediately coated her fingers, terribly addicting that she had to stop herself from plunging in so suddenly.

You continued to gyrate harder and it seems that there was the ‘spot’ that everyone was talking about. You lost track of it, but you felt how the pleasure intensified and moaned unadulteratedly, louder than before, that spurred Wanda to repeat the motion harder. With every glide against the pillow that you do, Wanda’s fingers were there at the edge to stimulate your throbbing core. Your breathing pattern grew heaving.

It was so, so addicting to have your slit pressed against the once innocent material and the friction it provided you–

“Stop there,” Wanda firmly said. You halt out of concern, rethinking whether you did something wrong. Your best friend, however, was pleased at your expression. 

“D-Did I do something wrong?” You gulped and weakly asked.

“No, honey. You did so well.” Wanda caressed your jaw and held you by the cheek with her clean hand. A pleased grin broke out of you to which Wanda duly noted. You liked praises. “That was the first lesson. You need something to stimulate you into the mood, it is very important. Now I’ll touch you first so you can mimic them later on. Is that okay?” Her hands descend to trail them at the center of your torso and stopped by the pelvic area.

This was going so well. You even forgot and thought how dumb it was to doubt Wanda and how she would embarrass you. It felt as though it was more than what you asked of her.

You wet your lips, “M-more than okay.” 

At this point, you valued Wanda's opinion more than ever.

“Good girl. We’ll get started.”

She swept away the crumpling notes and the stained pillow. Wanda almost moaned at the mere sight. It was like an animal had rudely rammed through her room.

Wanda stared at your half-lidded eyes that beamed at her words. Your hair was frazzled and barely can manage your own breathing. She caused this. And hell, she can’t wait to ravish you further. You felt reassured with her comforting smile and voice leading you on.

Your best friend grabbed you by the thighs to pull you closer to her. Wanda hummed in delight, a crooked smile on her lips appeared as you released a throaty moan again as she pushed them farther apart. 

“Now, listen carefully, (y/n/n). You have to tease your folds first and gather the wetness here,” Wanda sultry uttered and started to stroke your folds again and you helplessly nod. “It’s no trouble right now, considering how soaked you are.” She bit her lip and teased you by bringing up her fingers that were coated by your arousal. “Don’t hide them from me. It’s so pretty to see you like this, honey.” You arched your back for her and became flustered at Wanda’s words.

So warm and inviting. Wanda was flooded with glee, that she swooped in before anyone else could. With this, she also intends to be your last. No way in hell she can share you now after this.

You feel your cheeks and ears grow hot. You buck your hips for more as Wanda starts to stroke vertically and then random patterns at your soaked pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch the itch you’ve been longing for.

Your nostrils flared, “W-Wands, please..”

Wanda felt herself damp as you moaned her name. It was like music to her ears. She immediately changed your position, from your hips up to encouraging you to lay down flat on her bed and adjusting to settle on your side – her fingers not leaving the inside of your pussy.

“What do you need, baby?” She pressed a kiss on your ear. The gesture was meant to comfort you but you felt your body burning even more.

“I need you! It’s so sticky and tickling me- I don’t… Can you please h-help me?”

You were needy, just as Wanda wanted you to be. She riled you up enough that she even felt you drip more wetness as she plunged deeper inside of you and hit the spongy wall that her fingers could reach. You were more than compliant all throughout the session that it made her heart soar.

“You can also play with your breasts, it can add a better feel for you, baby.” 

You hesitantly reach for your pair and Wanda’s awaiting (needy) eyes were the final nudge for you. You wanted to do good. At this point, the lines were blurred; you didn’t know if it was to achieve orgasm or praise from your best friend.

Hands skimming underneath your shirt, you also pushed up your bra and experimentally squeezed the flesh. You groaned and eyes half-lidded again, threatening to shut.

Wanda was ecstatic that she had convinced you through this. Her motions never faltered – if anything it was more determined – as she watched you play with your tits. She thought it was cute how your underwear mismatched, her eyes caught the sliver of the pale material of your panties and your bra in the color of a colder tone. Were you tugging on your perked nipples? You were so eager and feeling comfortable enough. Wanda almost demanded you to take them off, wanting to see them. Another time.

She kept on stimulating your pussy and with the addition of you playing with your breasts – it was impossible to even control your moans anymore. 

You threw your arms quickly around Wanda’s neck and hands had wrapped themselves on her nape. Opposed to her firm and determined motions, you were gentle with how you caressed her skin. Wanda melted with no hesitation and now, her dorm room was reverberating with moans along you.

“It’s so sticky down here just as you said. Now,” Wanda’s own breathing was ragged and you had to force yourself to listen to her. “I’m going for your clit. It’s in the uppermost area, covered by your hood. Need to stretch you more-” She grabbed your hand and made them trace the areas for you to pinpoint them better. Fuck, Wanda was right. You were soaking wet. “That better?”

You agreed furiously, “Y-Yes, but–”

“I know, I know. You need more.” Wanda kept her ministrations inside of you, stretched you better that you had to let out a guttural moan. The spot was back and she kept hitting it now mercilessly. “Is that it? That feels much better?”

“Oh, yes!”

Your needy core greedily swallowed Wanda’s fingers and you had no idea. So drunk in pleasure. So lost without her. You’re so lucky that you had her. Wanda was just as intoxicated as you, her dilated green eyes drinking up the warmth of your pussy and your writhing sight.

Upon making eye contact, you didn’t know how to react to the revelation of how those green eyes unashamedly looked at you. It was similar as Wanda would when she was examining you while fitting clothes – only now they appeared more hungry and she’ll devour you.

And the thing is that you will gladly let her. Another needy moan was ripped out of you, disturbing your rail of thoughts as Wanda added her thumb to the stimulation that circled around your clit, you laid there helplessly clenching on the bed sheets while you were in Wanda’s grasp.

“W-Wands… Wands! I think I’m going to pee,” You shyly inform the woman and the heel of your palm pressed against her clavicle to push her away, Wanda only shushed you.

It was familiar to you, you think that you’ve reached this extent but you always stopped because you were very unsure of what follows after.

You felt dirty and it was embarrassing how you were bucking your hips to meet Wanda’s plunging in your core. It halted your mood a little and Wanda immediately picked it up, as your walls clenched harder around her digits.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Wanda’s sultry voice spurred your gears again. You huffed and absorbed her words. “Don’t worry about it, you’re going to cum. Just listen to my voice baby, you’re doing so great for me.” It is more than okay, you repeat in your head. Wanda’s making you feel so good you felt like you were going to combust.

Your muscles grew tense around the abdomen area and all over your thighs - you feel the knot forming in there. You are frenzied to chase it.

“Cum for me, come on, my good girl.”

Wanda was sweating now as you were, and she kept ramming inside of your warm walls, a final hard stimulation around your clit did its job to untangle the knot you were feeling. 

“Wanda!” A guttural moan was ripped out of you.

It was the most angelic sound that Wanda has ever heard.

Your eyes were still closed shut. Still whining as you fall apart, it was the most freeing experience you’ve ever encountered. It’s easy to say that you were beyond satisfied this time around. Your body was almost floating and your mind was lightheaded–you’re sure of it. Your legs were spasming a little and it was hard to ignore the vivid feeling of liquid oozing out of your core. It was never ending and Wanda was tempted to drink them all up.

“You looked so beautiful there, honey. I’m proud of you.” She cooed sweetly in your ears and pressed a kiss on your forehead that was glistening with sheer sweat. 

You grew hot at her words. “Oh–!”

The bed shook again and creaked as Wanda rode out your orgasm. The squelching sound was more vivid to your ears. You cried out loud, feeling that it was too much, held your best friend’s wrist and finally Wanda pulled her digits out. Before your best friend can calm you down–

An aggressive banging resounded against Wanda’s dorm walls.

“It’s midterms week! Stop fucking!”

You froze. You completely forgot where you were and how thin the dorm walls were, making you cover your face with your palm. Meanwhile, Wanda couldn’t be more bothered – she simply laughed at how evidently embarrassed you are, threading through her own hair with a familiar glint in her eyes.

“I don’t think I can face the people outside anymore,” You admit, groaning as you sober up from the high. 

Why did you have to be so loud? 

“Mmm. Lucky for you, we’re staying inside for a while. I got some other tricks I wanted to show you.” Wanda bit her lip, crimson also spreading through her cheeks as she closed the gap again between you.

She can compare your gaze to a deer caught in headlights. Always so attentive and compliant.

With a little more touch from your best friend, you felt the hotness starting again in your lower stomach, making it twitch with familiar need – your studying session long forgotten and replaced with a different lesson.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being an Avenger with a low social battery

Avengers x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Can I have the avengers with a reader who has a really bad social battery. Like they can be out in public and then they just disappear and are like “nah I’m done with these mofo’s””

the avengers are quite the rowdy bunch

but you always as excitable as them

these guys were often in the public eye, always being asked all sorts of questions

but you just couldnt handle it a lot of the time

"y/n, can i get a picture with you? you're my hero!" -fan

"uh...yeah, sure. big smile!" -you, completely exhausted

you tried to be nice and not obvious that you were drained but boy was it hard

especially when tony threw his parties

you'd typically sit in the corner with a drink and try to make it through the night

but there were always some guests who were just dying to come talk to you

"hey! why are you hiding over here, there's a party going on! come, have some fun!" -clueless party guest

"oh, i'm okay over here, thank you" -you

"i'll keep you some company, then. why don't you tell me a story of one of your avenger missions"

some people just could not take the hint

but the avengers usually knew when you'd had enough

"wanna get out of here?" -nat

"please." -you

you'd recharge alone whenever you escaped the madness

dont even get me started on the news

they would do anything to get an interview with you

"y/n! could you comment on the recent events in [country] that you accompanied the avengers in?" -reporter

"we were there, we saved the day" -you, obviously exhausted

"is that all you have to say?" -reporter

"hey! don't you want to hear what i have to say? huh?" -tony

"thanks, tony" -you

"no problem, kiddo" -tony

wanda got it

you liked spending time with her because she liked to be calm and alone sometimes too

you'd read or watch tv or listen to music together in silence for hours

it was nice

it was funny because sometimes the team would all be socializing and then bam

"hey, where's y/n?" -steve

"i think they tapped out" -clint

"oh. i'll go check on them" -steve

"no, just leave them alone, they'll be back" -tony

after a lot of missions you'd just wait for the avengers on the quinjet while they spoke to authorities or SHIELD or whoever

"just forward me the mission report, i'll fill it out" -you

everyone just kinda let you do your thing

which worked out just fine for you

it drove fury crazy back in the day

"just why are we giving y/n special treatment? what? they're tired?" -fury

"i didn't say that, i said they were over your shit" -tony

"you better not have said that, i'll give you one last chance" -fury

and that is just another reason you were depleted

some days were better than others, and sometimes you could keep up! but once your battery died, that was it

"'social battery,' you say? any way i could be of assistance? maybe a small jolt from mjolnir to charge it back up?" -thor

"oh, no, just a figure of speech, no need for...that" -you

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[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (1 - Honey! I shrunk the kids! 18+)

Summary: Wanda accidentally shrinks your kids while trying out a spell that would benefit both of you in the bedroom; Jimmy and Darcy attempt to find out more about the Hex, particularly when they discover a remarkable detail about you. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Tags: Smut, Campy Humor, Language

A/N: I've been working on this series since late August and have finally figured out what to do with it, enough to share it with you all. The story will be told in three parts: Westview (The Missing Town), Pre-Westview, and Post-Westview. This follows some events in WandaVision, but it's very canon-divergent. It's going to be different from my other works (I've never written humor before and I'm quite insecure about that), as this one is very plot-driven but at the same time, still very much Wanda x Reader (especially in parts 2 and 3). Updates will be every Wednesday. Chapters will be 2.5–3.5k words long, except for the ending chapters of each part, which are twice as long. So, without further ado… More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-

“Honey! I shrunk the kids!” 

Wanda bursts into the basement, apron billowing out like a cape. Except, there's no draft down here; that apron shouldn't be moving like that at all. But then again, considering your wife’s claim, maybe the laws of physics are taking a day off.

You glance up from the miniature model home you’re meticulously working on, unsure if you heard her right. Did she really just say that? 

“You what?”

Wanda, flushed and a little breathless, skids to a stop in front of you. “Okay, so I was experimenting with a new spell, one that was supposed to…” She bites her lip, hesitating, her face glowing a deeper shade of red. “...it was supposed to do something else, but it backfired and... well, it’s not important right now!”

“Jesus, Wanda.”

Your poor, beautiful, occasionally clumsy wife stands there, teetering between a freak-out and a fit of giggles. 

“It was an accident! I didn't mean to!” Wanda shrieks, causing the room to tremble from her panic.

Wanda's powers have always been a wildcard. You can child-proof the entire house in a day, but that definitely doesn't cover child-proofing Wanda herself—especially not when your kids are involved. Luckily, the boys have inherited some special abilities of their own, which leaves you as the sole non-superpowered member of the household. With that in mind, you know better than to panic. Getting worked up alongside her would only escalate things, and you’re not exactly keen on being shrunk next.

“Okay…where are they now?” you ask as calmly as you can manage.

Wanda takes a deep breath and leads you to the living room. You trail her in silence, clutching at composure. It can’t be that bad, right? The distant sound of playful music trickling through the house almost makes it seem like everything’s fine. You hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that you think about it, it’s like your brain has learned to associate that kind of tune with situations that somehow always end in collective sighs of relief.

Sighs, giggles, and applause—sounds that don't belong to Wanda or the boys.

Where are they coming from?

Before your mind can completely sink into the oddities of your life here in Westview, Wanda halts in the middle of the living room. Your eyes dart around, searching for Billy and Tommy, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

“Where?”

“Right there,” Wanda points toward the coffee table, her finger trembling slightly.

You squint in the direction she’s pointing. Next to the TV remote, two tiny figures wave up at you—your sons, each about the size of your thumb.

“Oh my god, they’re tiny!” you gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. You expected them to be at least half their normal size—a size they might grow out of eventually.

“Shhhh, Y/N!” Wanda hisses, pressing her index finger to her lips. “The neighbors might hear you.”

Neighbors. Which usually means just Agnes from next door. There’s literally several meters of spaces between your houses, but somehow, she always manages to hear things she shouldn’t and pries like she’s in some perfectly timed routine.

Wanda kneels by the coffee table, her eyes soft. “I told them to stay right there until we sorted this out.”

The twins start making noises, sounding like tiny bells, though still hard to make out. You pull out a magnifying glass from your back pocket—has that been there the whole time?—making sure your sons are okay. As soon as the lenses zoom in on their faces, you're relieved to see them laughing uproariously, seemingly unbothered by their predicament.

“They seem... happy?” you say, lowering the magnifying glass.

“They think it's hilarious,” Wanda grumbles, her lips curling into a pout.

“So,” you sigh, pushing yourself to your feet. “Any ideas on how to fix this?”  You're tempted to suggest just letting it run its course, waiting for the spell to fizzle out, but you know Wanda wouldn’t go for that. She's fiercely protective of the twins, and you can't blame her—it’s all her handiwork, after all.

Then you hear it—a hiccup. Another follows, and then another, each one a little louder than the last.

Before you know it, Wanda's a sobbing mess.

You cup her face in your hands. “Hey, hey...it’s okay,” you murmur, gently brushing away a tear with your thumb.

Wanda’s breath hitches as she looks at you, her eyes brimming with worry. “What if I can’t fix it?”

“We will,” you promise, looking into her eyes.

A collective ‘awww’ rings in your ears, pulling you out of the moment. What the hell—where did that come from? You've had this creepy feeling of being watched lately, and it's only getting worse.

Wanda brings you back to focus when she nuzzles into your palm. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You give her a small, lopsided grin and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” Something passes over her eyes as soon as you say it, but it vanishes in a split-second, replaced by a moment of inspiration.

“Wait,” she bursts out, stepping away from your embrace. “I think I have an idea.”

She heads straight for the fridge, and you trail after her, holding your breath.

“I’ve been trying to reverse it, but my magic isn’t cooperating. It’s like... it’s tangled,” Wanda mutters, yanking things out of the fridge.

You scowl, arms crossed, watching her. “Tangled? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. The more I try to fix it, the worse it gets. Like it has a life of its own,” she says. she says. After a few more seconds of rummaging, Wanda finally grabs a tetra pack of chocolate milk—the twins' favorite.

“I’m hoping this will do the trick,” she says, giving the carton a shake.

You cock your head, clueless on what’s going on. “Honey, what’s going on?”

Wanda mumbles, barely glancing up as she vigorously shakes the carton. “Just doing what it says—’Shake well before serving.’”

You roll your eyes, muttering, “This woman...”. Then louder, you ask, “I mean, what’s the chocolate got to do with our tiny children?”

Wanda stops mid-shake, a look of realization dawning on her face. “Oh, right,” she slaps her forehead. “You can’t read minds. I keep forgetting,” she chuckles, setting down the carton with a sheepish grin.

There it is again—a chorus of laughter from somewhere far off. Your mouth twitches at the sound—it’s really starting to get on your nerves. You make a mental note to bring it up with Wanda later.

Wanda gathers herself, then pitches her plan. “Instead of directly casting a spell on the twins, I think it’s safer to enchant this chocolate milk.” She picks up the carton again, giving it a final shake. “The idea is to infuse the milk with a spell that will gradually restore them to their normal sizes.”

You nod, beginning to understand what she’s trying to do. “Sounds less risky than zapping them with more magic head on.”

“Exactly,” she agrees, her eyes lighting up with excitement. You’d swear she’s getting a kick out of this macabre parenting hack—kids and all. The background tune keeps playing, like a promise that the universe won’t let things turn to shit. You’re wondering if maybe Wanda hears it too.

“This way, the magic is diluted and can adjust more naturally with their systems. It’s like... sneaking the cure into their bodies,” she says, snapping her fingers, red swirls of magic emanating from them to the carton of milk.

“I'm so proud of you, baby,” you say, leaning in for a quick kiss which she happily accepts. “For finding a fix, I mean. The whole shrinking our kids thing? Still not great.”

–

“What kind of spell do you think Wanda was going for?” Darcy asks, her eyes fixed on the credits rolling across the screen before it fades to black. She’s really gotten into Wanda’s little show, a welcome distraction from the freezing depths of hell that is New Jersey in November. Though exciting things are finally happening to her, the timing couldn't be worse. 

“No clue,” Jimmy mutters, his attention glued to the laptop in front of him. It’s been two days since Quantico sent him to look into the bizarre case of a missing town—a phenomenon almost unheard of in the 21st century. Upon arriving, they discovered that the town in question, Westview, was enveloped by some sort of anomaly—or a Hex, as Darcy has started calling it, referring to the hexagonal shape of the barrier encasing the town. 

Around the same time as the discovery, S.W.O.R.D. agent Monica Rambeau was quite literally sucked into the anomaly by accident. The only breakthrough has been Darcy Lewis’ detection of the signals, providing them with a window into the mysterious shroud, even helping them identify some of the show's characters as actual residents of the town.

But overall, they're still desperately trying to piece together why this is happening and how to stop it.

Darcy peeks over at the data on Jimmy’s screen. “Find anything new?”

Jimmy sighs in frustration. “No, not really. Everything we dig up just adds more questions instead of answers.”

“Like what, for instance?”

Instead of answering directly, he slides a thick file across the table toward her. “See for yourself.”

Darcy catches the file and starts flipping through it. Murmuring, she says, “So, Google finally returned search results?” The stack of papers is downright daunting. Jimmy’s right—any mountain of information would raise more questions than answers.

“No, not Google,” Jimmy corrects her. “Stark's highly confidential database did. The woman Wanda's married to in Westview? She’s not in any public records. Turns out her records were wiped clean two years ago.”

Darcy looks up, puzzled. “Why would Stark's company have this?”

“Just read, Darcy. It’s all in there,” he says, turning his full attention back to his research.

Darcy frowns slightly and begins scanning through the pages more attentively. It takes her a few minutes to piece together the information she's reading, with her mind going in different directions and still burning with curiosity about the spell Wanda botched.

Finally, she reads aloud, somewhat incredulously, “Subject was recognized as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s youngest marksmanship prodigy prior to recruitment by Stark Industries following the dissolution of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Subsequently provided tactical support on multiple classified operations in conjunction with the Avengers initiative.”

She sets the file down thoughtfully. “Kinda reminds me a bit of Romanoff or Barton. Total badass. I hadn’t pegged Maximoff for that crowd.”

“What crowd did you have Wanda filed under?” Jimmy asks, just out of curiosity.

Darcy’s gaze drifts off, a dreamy smirk on her lips. “Honestly? I always pictured her—or anyone for that matter—swooning over someone more…mythical hammer than tactical espionage.”

Jimmy snorts to himself at Darcy's whimsical take and says, “Of course, you’d say that. Thor's everyone's type.”

“He’s yours too?”

“Yeah, why not,” Jimmy shrugs, his tone more reluctant than sarcastic, which only amuses Darcy more.

“So,” Darcy begins, “Wanda's settled down in New Jersey, married to a woman? I mean, good for her. They all deserve a break. Maybe even an early retirement.”

Jimmy lets out a long, tired sigh, like he's just about done with everything. Darcy notices and raises an eyebrow. “What now?”

He barely glances up. “Like I said, everything’s in there. Just keep reading.”

Darcy groans but goes back to the file, flipping through the pages again. She’s about to make a snarky comment when something catches her attention—something that has her eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

“It… it says here Y/N’s dead.”

“That’s right,” Jimmy responds without missing a beat.

“Not snapped five years ago. Dead-dead.”

“Yep.”

Darcy stares at the page, disbelief all over her face. “That can’t be right, can it?”

Jimmy finally swivels his chair to face her, looking as tired as he sounds. “That’s what I’ve been trying to wrap my head around for hours. If aliens and superheroes are real, maybe bringing someone back from the dead to star in a sitcom isn’t so far-fetched, right?”

–

You carefully pull the blankets up over Billy, smoothing his hair and whispering a soft good night. Tommy’s already half-asleep, but you make sure to tuck him in just as snugly, brushing a kiss on his forehead. Wanda stands in the doorway, watching you, her heart swelling in her chest. You were so clueless when she first had the twins, but now, being a mother just seems to come naturally to you. 

And you pulled it off in a week, while the twins stretched into six-year-olds just as fast.

“Honey,” you call softly, noticing the way she’s lost in thought. “Aren’t you going to say good night to our boys?”

Wanda steps into the room, giving each of the boys their good night kiss. You pucker your lips, silently asking for your turn, and she playfully swats your arm, whispering, “Not here, baby.”

You pout, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes, which only makes her smile. Without warning, you grab her hand and hurriedly pull her out of the boys' room, making a beeline for your bedroom. Wanda’s laughter fills the hallway, and just as you reach the door, you suddenly sweep her off the ground, lifting her into your arms.

Wanda lets out a shriek, her laughter infectious, and you can’t help but grin, even as you let her thump onto the mattress—a sloppy, graceless drop. You follow her onto the bed, rolling onto your stomach to peer down at her, still sporting that stupid smile.

“So, about that kiss you owe me,” you whisper, hovering closer, teasing her with your proximity.

Wanda nods distractedly. “I think I can manage that,” she murmurs, and then her lips are on yours.

It starts simple and sweet. Though soon, her tongue is gently nudging your lips apart, and it quickly becomes anything but. Her hands slip down to your back, pulling you close until her heartbeat hammering against yours. You break away, lips trailing down to her neck, exploring every dip and hollow, your tongue darting out to taste her skin. When you hit that spot just behind her ear, the one that always drives her wild, she gasps.

“Don't start something you can’t finish,” she warns, her voice already thick with want.

“Who says I won't?” you shoot back with a wolfish grin.

You both fall into a familiar routine, as easy to slip into as the back of your hand. There’s no hurry, just the two of you moving languidly—whispering against skin, giggles turning into sighs and breathy moans. Sometimes, being with Wanda feels like a desperate need, as if not having her completely would literally be the end of you. But it’s moments like these that are your favorite—the ones where you’re barely even trying, yet she still comes apart at your touch, at the mere feeling of your fingers on her. 

Eventually, you both settle down, a contented sigh escaping you as you curl up against Wanda, your skin slightly damp with the effort of your love. You like this, being the little spoon, hiding your face in her neck like you’re hiding from the world, though you vaguely recall a time when it was usually her in your arms. 

As you’re staggering on the edge of sleep, Wanda’s fingers gently massage your scalp, her lips dropping soft, pensive kisses on your forehead. You're almost out, but one last question keeps you from drifting off entirely.

“Wanda, that spell earlier that shrunk the boys—what was that about?” you mumble, your words slurring into the dream nipping at your consciousness.

Wanda’s laughter rumbles through her chest, nudging you slightly from your drowsy state.

“Come on, tell me,” you coax, giving her side a playful pinch to keep her talking.

“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face turning a delightful shade of pink again that spreads down her neck and chest. Her coy reaction wakes you up some more. As a twisted kind of payback, you run your tongue rough over her nipple, snatching a sharp gasp from her. Moving up, you hold her flushed cheek, making sure she’s looking right at you. Your thigh presses between hers, and it doesn’t take long before she’s wet and ready again.

“Are you going to tell me, or do you plan on sleeping with a wet pussy tonight?” you whisper, brushing your lips against the corner of her mouth. Under different circumstances, Wanda would scold you for your crudeness, but right now, she's too worked up to care. Your dirty mouth has always been one of the most irritating yet irresistible things about you. Even having kids hasn’t changed that.

“I was trying to... enchant your...” she starts, but then your hand tightens on her butt, spurring her subtle grinding movements. By this time, she’s practically dripping onto the sheets, her thoughts scattering as the tightening sensation below her stomach builds.

“My what?” you push, smirking as you watch her fumble for words. You hoist her leg, resting it on your shoulder, laying her wide open. You slide two fingers inside her, fucking her slowly while your thumb brutally circles her clit. As she hesitates to answer, you hook in another finger, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from Wanda. Your gaze stays locked on your wife, a part of you as surprised as she might be at your boldness tonight.

All day, she’s haunted every corner of your mind, fantasizing about stealing a quick, desperate moment while the twins are asleep or at Agnes’s. But there’s been something—an unnameable restraint—holding you back from indulging those wicked impulses. It isn’t until the boys are asleep, the house quiet, that those invisible chains start to loosen. That’s when you can finally allow yourself to desire Wanda the way you really want to. The way you’ve always been meant to.

“Your... clit,” Wanda finally spits out, seeing you've drifted off, stuck in your head. “I thought I could make it... well, longer. Like a...” She chokes on the words, too embarrassed to finish.

“Like a cock?” you throw out crudely, looking down at her impishly.

Wanda nods, mortified but also a little defiant. “Wanted you to fuck me with it,” she mumbles, finding her backbone now that the secret's in the open.

“I am fucking you,” you whisper hotly right into her ear. “But if you want it like that, all you have to do is say the word.”

Wanda clenches around you at the thought of doing it like that in the near future, her breath hitching. “Please,” she mewls, the word dripping with need. 

“Good girl,” you growl, cranking up the pace as you drive your fingers harder inside her, making her gasp and arch towards you. “You can come.”

With a choked whimper, Wanda surrenders, her body seizing as her orgasm washes over her. She soaks your wrist, the clear fluid trickling down onto the sheets, but you don't stop, pushing through every pulse of her release until she's quaking, utterly wrecked beneath you. You patiently wait until her spasms subside before slowly pulling your fingers away.

Wanda's hand shoots out, stopping your movements. “Stay,” she implores, sounding like she's on the verge of tears. You're momentarily startled by her reaction, concerned something might be wrong. Swiftly, you slide your fingers back where they belong, nestled deep inside her.

“Okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, pushing back the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead with your free hand. Exhaustion begins to cloud your senses as you sink down beside Wanda, still keeping your hand where she wants it. 

“I'm sorry for needing you so much,” Wanda murmurs, her voice shaky with tears you can't see, your cheek pressed against the pillow beside hers.

“Don't be,” you mumble, half-lost to sleep as she clings to you more tightly. “I’m here.”

“You love me,” she says, a hint of wonder, of fear.

You nod, lips brushing the nape of her neck. “And you love me,” you murmur back, your eyes slipping shut. “I'm not going anywhere, Wanda.”

“For now,” she whispers to herself, once your breathing evens out in sleep.

Tears betray her then, and she clamps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. But just before her sobs fully break free, she flicks a finger, a thin red wisp of magic ensuring you stay deep in sleep.

With you unaware, Wanda surrenders to her grief.

[cthulhus-curse]

The Lion & The Lamb

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,229

Warnings: Fuckboy!Wanda, Breeding, Collars, Daddy Kink, Eventual Fluff, Face Slapping, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, Leashes, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Strap-Ons | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: After a chance encounter with your first girlfriend, Wanda feels the need to stake claim over what is rightfully hers.

“So, I was thinking we could go see a movie after finals.”

There was a hopeful tone in your voice as you spoke. It was, as always, seemingly ignored. Normally you’d appear crestfallen, but after having spent months in such a manner, you simply shrugged.

“Oh, uh, sure,” came the bored reply. “Whatever you want, babe.”

“Maybe I could even go to one of your soccer games?” you asked, knowing what the answer would entail.

“If you’d like to, sure.”

You sighed before focusing on your food once again. It was partly your fault, you admitted. Towards the start of your junior year at university, you had gotten involved with your roommate who you spent the first two years crushing over. While it was not an ideal situation that you were in, only being able to involve yourself in sexual endeavors with the woman, it was more than you would have hoped.

Wanda was known to never fully commit. You were sure she had slept with most, if not all, of her soccer team at one point. She could do what she wanted and the two of you had been clear as to what your relationship entailed, but you couldn’t help the hint of jealousy that came out at the thought of others being so close with your friend.

She only eyed her phone as you studied her – the way in which she wore her snapback backwards, her shirt with the sleeves rolled up past her shoulders, which showed off her toned, muscular arms, and gray sweats along with Vans shoes made you drool. The two of you had chosen to spend time before finals, the calm before the storm, stuffing your faces at a local restaurant – you remembered it was Wanda’s favorite, but she did not even notice. It filled you with disdain to know she could hold you in her arms and make you feel the greatest pleasures in life, but not even bat an eye when it came to a more interpersonal relationship, whether platonic or not.

As you bit your bottom lip as a means to keep yourself grounded, the waitress finally came to your table.

“Hi! My name is Natasha and I will be taking care of you two ladies today. Can I get you guys started with any drinks?” came a voice that you recognized so well.

Turning around, your eyes widened. You were met with a sight you had not seen in years. There stood a redhead with a notepad, smiling at Wanda before turning to you. In a manner that made your heart soar, she only beamed wider when noticing your appearance.

“Y/N?” she questioned with bewilderment. “It’s been so long!”

“Hey, Nat,” you greeted while sitting up straight. “Holy shit, it’s been years! How are you? Nice haircut by the way.”

“Thank you! I’m alright though, just working my way through life until I save up enough to move to California,” Natasha chuckled – you vividly remembered how, during the time in which the two of you had been together, she always dreamed of escaping the cold claws of the east coast and moving to a much warmer atmosphere. “And how are you? You look amazing, detka.”

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed how Wanda visibly tensed at the pet name. She would call you that from time to time while writhing on top of you. Nobody had ever referred to you in that manner from her knowledge. If anything, she never appeared interested in knowing about your past relationships or really anything to do with your personal life.

“I’m doing well. I got finals in a few weeks and I am trying to treat myself before potentially getting a brain aneurysm from all the studying.”

The two of you shared a laugh. It felt as if no time had passed since you were high school students kissing under the bleachers of the football field, away from prying eyes. Natasha had been your first love; it nearly broke your heart when your relationship only turned to shambles as you went off to college and she remained in the work-force. It was not the same when you couldn’t see one another at all times. Still, you found yourself missing her while staring into deep green eyes that never failed to hypnotize you – in that moment, it felt as though there was nobody else but the two of you, although the gnawing image of Wanda still appeared in your brain.

“I’m Wanda, by the way,” came the dirty blonde’s voice through gritted teeth from the other side of the table. “Nice to meet you.”

You recognized the condescending look which she threw at Natasha, one that was typically reserved for the idiotic professors who she almost always clashed with. There was a hesitant wave thrown your ex’s way – a bit too much if you said so yourself.

“Oh, likewise,” Natasha simply replied before turning back to you. “Are you two…?”

“Nope. We’re just friends and roommates,” you quoted Wanda’s words whenever someone asked the same question.

It was strange to watch Wanda’s behavior. You swore her fingernails dug into the table as she kept herself from commenting. Her mouth formed a straight line as she practically stared daggers at Natasha.

“Y/N and I used to date back in high school,” Natasha commented as she let her eyes gaze over Wanda before returning them to you. “Here, I’ll give you my number. We really should catch up and go for a coffee or something. I’d like to know more about how you’re doing.”

After she was finished scribbling away in her notepad, Natasha tore the piece of paper and handed it to you. There was a heart beside the ten digits which warmed your own. You assumed that if Wanda wanted nothing to do with you, perhaps the previous love between you and your ex could be lit up once again.

With a satisfied smirk, Natasha spoke again.

“Now, what can I get you for drinks?”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

The remainder of lunch had been spent in a wave of awkward silence between you and Wanda. She only questioned you about Natasha twice, asking how long the two of you had been together and what your feelings for her were currently – all you did was respond with ‘I don’t know’ to the latter.

Once you were done and ready to split the food, Wanda stopped you. She paid for everything, even if it was rather expensive given the status of the restaurant. The sly smirk along with the head tilt she gave Natasha as she came over to pick up the check became ingrained in your brain.

There was even more silence that followed on your way to your shared dorm. It surprised you to feel Wanda’s hand over your own suddenly. She held it tight as the two of you walked around town en route to the campus. Rather than take notice of your questioning gaze, the woman simply held her head up and carried on.

When you had finally arrived at your dorm, ignoring the questioning gazes from the others who noticed your interlaced hands, Wanda urged you inside. She locked the door behind her, taking off her snap-back before throwing it to the side not caring where it landed.

“Take off your clothes, baby,” Wanda ordered softly. “Go get your collar and leash, okay?”

You recognized that exhausted tone, only did not know where it had stemmed from. Still, you were not about to question Wanda’s actions. Even if the dorm room was small, you still made your way to your side while simultaneously tugging at your shirt, all while searching for the required items.

From behind, you failed to notice Wanda mirroring your actions. She carefully pulled at her clothes, letting them fall over the floor before her bed, which she kneeled by. Her hands went under it, dragging a box that lay beneath out of the dark. When opening it, she smiled – once and for all, Wanda would let herself own only you and nobody else.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said with slight giddiness, smiling at the way the pink faux-leather collar squeezed your neck while the similarly-colored leash fell down your body.

“Crawl to me, Y/N,” Wanda said. “Come here.”

When you got down on your hands and knees, you took in her appearance. She was sitting over the edge of her bed still yanking at the harness over her hips with a dildo standing proudly. You could tell it was the special one she only used several times on you, causing your heart to nearly skip a beat. As you took in the naked beauty who then went to pull her hair into a messy bun, you were frozen in place.

“Don’t make daddy repeat herself,” she announced with a much more dangerous tone. “I need my obedient girl today.”

Before you began moving, you nodded. There was no hesitation that came out as you crawled towards your roommate, a serious look over your face as you attempted to study her. She was clearly upset. That along with her silent hostility towards Natasha at the restaurant made you wonder if she was truly jealous as you suspected.

“You know you’re mine, right?” Wanda asked, her voice seemingly small as you kneeled before you. “You can answer, angel.”

“I know, daddy.”

A hand went to your cheek, softly cupping it. Wanda let her thumb graze around your flushed skin, smiling as you shyly attempted to hide yourself. As much as you loved the unabashed roughness she tended to show at times, such tender acts filled you with joy.

Wanda tugged at the leash, forcing you towards her as she took your lips with her own in a searing kiss. It was rough, somehow different from any other she had planted over your mouth. Ever since having seen Natasha, her emotions had been heightened.

“You’re daddy’s pretty toy. I don’t want anyone else to have you, ever,” she explained as she took small breaks from your making-out session. “And I never want anyone else. I just…I need you.”

“I’m here, daddy,” you replied. There were tears nearly forming at the words she spoke. Even if you were unsure whether she meant them or not, they made your heart swell. All you ever wanted since first meeting Wanda was to be hers – her only toy. “Tell me what I can do to please you.”

One last kiss was placed over your mouth, firmly planted as Wanda lingered there for a few seconds. She let your foreheads pressed together while listening to your mirrored ragged breaths. Never had you been through such intimacy with her.

“Come lay down, princess. Let me use you for a bit,” Wanda announced as she leaned back. She grabbed your hands and helped you up, smiling as you carefully went towards the bed. “Daddy’s going to fill you up with cum until you’re a crying mess okay? I need to make you mine and ruin you for anyone else.”

“Yes, daddy,” you giddily replied, beaming at the idea of potentially being Wanda’s.

Wanda shifted over the bed, her eyes roaming all over your body. She put her hands over your inner thighs, carefully spreading them apart. At the sight of your already drenched cunt, she hummed approvingly.

She moved closer to you, letting the creamy dildo side against you. It was grabbed carefully as she did not want to set off the fake cum by squeezing hard. The tip swirled against your slit, garnering large amounts of your juices over it. While you were wet, it was not enough to keep you from being hurt by the roughness she wished to exert.

“Be right back,” Wanda uttered before moving away.

It felt like a lifetime went by before she came back from kneeling over the floor. In her wake, she carried a bottle of lubricant. When she finally settled between your legs once again, you felt at peace. Drops of the lube were squired over the silicone cock before Wanda’s free hand went to spread it across the length. It wasn’t until it glistened with the liquid that she threw the bottle to the other side of the bed.

Wanda gripped the dildo again before letting it touch your entrance. Rather than swirl it all across letting you grow used to such a feeling, she began easing herself in. There was slight caution to her movements only to be replaced quickly by her trademark self.

Her cock spread your pussy apart. Velvety walls moved to welcome the large toy before wrapping themselves around it. Even after having had it used on you various times throughout the semester, you still moaned loudly whenever Wanda filled you up.

“God, you’re a fucking slut, aren’t you?” Wanda questioned with raised eyebrows. She pushed her hips forth before you were able to reply, only yelping loudly instead. “If you wanted me to make you mine, all you had to do was ask. Not whore yourself out for someone else. So stupid.”

All you could do was lay there, taking each thrust with the utmost joy. A hand went to tug at your leash, bringing your face forth while simultaneously choking you. Wanda’s eyes were dark and similar in appearance to those which had begrudgingly stared at Natasha throughout lunch. With her face dangerously close, a free hand went to cup your cheek.

“Tell me who owns you,” Wanda roared. She brought her hand down over your cheek, slapping it with might as you hissed in return. Those little sounds never ceased to make her smile. “Who’s the only one that can fuck you this well? Who owns your pussy?”

“It’s you, daddy!” came your cry as she hit your face again, holding the leash steadily in order to keep you from squirming away. “You own every inch of me. I promise you I am nobody else’s.”

“That’s a good answer,” Wanda whispered. She gave you one last slap for good measure, only it was softer. “Now open your mouth.”

When you gave into temptation, Wanda soon hovered her mouth above your own. She spit at you, grunting as she drove the toy deeper into your cunt with force.

“You’re such a good whore, Y/N. Just look at how well you take daddy’s cock. Your pretty pussy is practically begging to be fucked, eh?”

You didn’t trust yourself speaking, so instead you were sure to nod with vigor. Your hips began grinding against the dildo in an attempt to get off quickly. With your arousal at its peak, it would not be long until you turned into a mess in Wanda’s arms.

With closed eyes, you held into Wanda for support. Your hands landed over her bare upper arms, squeezing them and groaning. She flexed them slightly, forcing you to open your orbs and stare at the sight before you. Her muscles were clearly visible — you always did love when she used all her strength to pick you up and throw you over the bed before ravaging you.

“Awww baby, you’re adorable,” Wanda laughed as she sat back. Still holding the leash, she brought her other hand down your body, letting it ghost over your lower stomach where a small bulge appeared whenever she pushed the dildo into your depths. “What a stupid cock whore you are. I bet Natasha couldn’t ever make you feel this way, eh, detka? You’re my loyal little bitch.”

“Mhm daddy,” you breathed as her fingers pressed against your body.

Wanda dug her cock as deep as she could, giggling at the much larger bulge shown. The palm of her hand held it down, making you scream out in a midst of immense pleasure.

“You’re close, aren’t you? You’ll soon be daddy’s breeding bitch.”

At that, you nodded with tears already forming in your eyes at your overwhelming arousal. Still pressing down on your body while simultaneously tugging at the leash, Wanda tilted her head. You were the most adorable toy she had seen — always ready to please her whenever and however she wished.

“Come for daddy, baby girl. All over my cock, okay?”

“Yes, daddy,” you murmured, letting your head fall back, enjoying how the collar choked you, as you fell apart.

Dismay took over your being as Wanda removed the toy from your pussy as you moaned through your orgasm. The leash had been left over your naked body as well which visibly made you pout. It was only made better as a hand went to keep your thighs open while the other squeezed the dildo with might.

It wasn’t long until a squirt of fake cum shot through your cunt, filling you up slowly. The white substance was thick as it quickly poured into you. Wanda always loved stuffing the toy with all the could as a means to please you further.

Once you were all nice and full, the woman’s cock slid back inside. It was held there frozen in place as you recovered from your orgasm, your chest still heaving up and down as your body shook.

“I’ll help get you cleaned up in a second, detka,” Wanda mumbled as she leaned down. She pressed her forehead against your own in a manner that was unheard of from such a self-proclaimed cold-hearted person. She sighed, closing her eyes before breathing in the stench of sex that filled the dorm. “You did so well. Thank you for always trusting me enough to touch you like this.”

“And thank you for always being so good to me,” you replied with a tired smile, frowning as Wanda only shook her head in retort.

“I just…I’m sorry. I’ve been really shitty ever since we started doing this. It’s just sex like we both agreed to and, yeah, you know it’s been going on with others for me, but I don’t want that anymore,” Wanda admitted with apparent embarrassment at having to showcase such emotions that were seemingly alien to her. “So, do you want to be my girlfriend? Like, actually I mean. I don’t want anyone else to be honest. Just you, Y/N.”

You remained silent, your eyes wide as you heard the words that spilled from your friend’s mouth. All which you had dreamed of ever since setting your eyes on the blonde woman was becoming reality.

“Fuck, I know I’m an idiot. I can’t expect you to say yes after I’ve spent all these years fucking around literally,” Wanda said with a mix of guilt and disgust at her behavior, especially since all she had ever wanted was you. “Seeing firsthand that someone else can potentially have you too makes my blood boil. You’re my detka, nobody else’s. You can take some time to think about it too. I want you to be o-”

You did not hesitate to squeeze her arms, groaning at their muscular appearance, before pulling her close. Lips interlocked for what you knew would be a core memory throughout your life. You held her close, afraid that if for a moment you were to let go, Wanda would be gone as soon as she came.

“I would love that so much,” you admitted when pulling away to grasp for air while leaving your foreheads touching. “I really want to be yours, Wanda. Always.”

[please-destroy]

Moments of Respite

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

.

Your body aches with the fight you’ve barely survived. 

The flight home from Sokovia is the longest of your life. Steve had practically thrown food rations  at the team, but they are all long finished now. So is any conversation, sheer exhaustion flattening the atmosphere.  

Wanda Maximoff sits on the far side of the Quinjet. The rest of the team are quiet, wordlessly favouring the other half of the aircraft. 

Wanda seems uncaring of her surroundings. Her long, dark hair is matted with dirt and blood. It shrouds her figure strangely. Only Clint watches her as openly as you.

You can’t keep your eyes away from her. There is something about her stillness. It scares you and thrills you in the same breath. Wanda watches the blue sky outside the jet, as if she isn’t really here, as if nothing is real. 

Her eyes burn with bitter life. 

When you land, it is Clint who clears his throat and walks over to her. Wordlessly, he nods his head at the exit. Wanda follows him with the empty footsteps of grief.

You aren’t quite sure why you follow them too.

Sunshine slicks pleasantly over your skin as you hurry across the lawn toward the Avenger’s building. Already, Clint and Wanda are disappearing inside.

You wait for the elevator to the residents’ quarters. When the doors open at last, Clint is standing there alone. 

He touches your arm. 

‘We don’t know her.’ He reminds you calmly. You wonder what he can see on your face. You nod but don’t answer. 

You enter the elevator as he walks out. Clint shakes his head and you worry that you really are making a big mistake. You try to ignore the thought, trusting the strong new instinct inside you that wants to follow her. 

When do you ever listen to Clint anyway?

You press the elevator button for the floor with the largest guest rooms. 

When the doors open, nerves strike you. 

You press the ‘doors close’ button hurriedly and go to your own floor instead. 

In your own living quarters, you go to your window, watching as the other Avengers disembark slowly from the Quinjet. Your fingers tap a nervous beat against the windowsill. 

You watch as Pepper meets Tony in the middle of the grass, bringing him into a tight hug. You watch Natasha’s arm slink around Clint as she leans tiredly into him. 

You think of Wanda and her dead brother and feel your gut twist with pity. 

It’s why you go back to the elevator.

This time, you get as far as Wanda’s door. It’s already ajar. You clear your throat as you push it open. 

Wanda doesn’t react. She sits stiffly at the edge of her bed. Her figure is silhouetted against a large window. She faces away from you, watching the same scenes play out on the grass. 

Your feet walk you forward. 

You look down at Wanda and the feeling of sympathy only doubles. 

Her eyes slide over to regard you dully.

You offer out your hand, not sure if she’ll take it.

‘You need to wash your hair.’ You tell her quietly. You have never spoken to her directly before. 

Wanda closes her eyes and you watch sudden, unbearable heaviness return to her shoulders. You hate yourself for bringing her back to reality.

‘I can’t.’ She whispers, voice rasping from lack of use. 

You take her hand and squeeze it once. Wanda grips it tight as she gets to her feet, following you into the bathroom. 

As her feet hit the tiles, Wanda begins to strip automatically out of her grimy clothes. Her eyes do not glance to you. You hold back your shock, realising with sudden clarity just how invisible you are to her. How meaningless everything is.

The thought bolsters you weirdly. You kick off your shoes, before removing every other piece of clothing, except your t-shirt and underwear. Wanda keeps a tight hold of your hand as you lead her into the shower. 

She lets go obediently as she turns to face the jet of water. She washes herself numbly, as you work through the wet tangles in her hair, applying shampoo and conditioner in turn. 

The steady thrum of water is comforting as you focus on your task. 

A few minutes later, you turn the shower off and find Wanda a towel. It is a comically large and luxurious one. Wrapped in it, Wanda seems encompassed in a fluffy cloud of cotton. 

You dry yourself efficiently then, removing your wet t-shirt and putting your dry sweats back on. Wet underwear seems like a ridiculous discomfort to worry about. 

When you turn back to Wanda, she hasn’t yet moved. You say her name quietly.

Wanda’s stare turns to you with sudden intensity. Her mouth hangs open slightly as her breathing becomes more rapid. 

Desperate emotions cross her face, but grief chokes them all. You touch her bare shoulder cautiously. 

Wanda’s lungs desperately search for air. She curves slightly, as if her stomach cavity has been hollowed out.

She hurries past you, back to the room that is barely hers.

You follow her cautiously. 

She is sitting again on the edge of the bed. This time, you sit next to her. Her shoulders are curved inwards.

‘I don’t know what to say.’ You admit, more to yourself than to her. The words feel blunt and honest. Part of you wishes immediately that you hadn’t spoken.

Wanda’s head tilts, moving slowly to rest against your shoulder. Your arm moves automatically around her shoulders. Her wet hair soaks through your sleeve. She cries tiredly.

You feel your heart beating steadily in your chest. You are glad that you followed her.

Minutes later, Wanda leans heavier against you as overwhelming exhaustion lulls her to sleep.

Your back aches unbearably, but you focus on the feeling of gladness. 

.

Pietro’s funeral is barely a funeral. 

Wanda wanted to bury him. But a superhuman’s body is valuable, dead or alive. 

A twisted embarrassment runs over Wanda’s face as she scatters his ashes below the large tree. 

You hate knowing that it feels so wrong to her.

Sokovia’s borders are not open to pilgrimages of grief. There wasn’t anywhere else special to do this.

‘Put me here too.’ Wanda murmurs as she walks back over to the small group of you, Clint and Steve. You nod silently. Clint seems entirely impassive. Steve touches Wanda’s shoulder supportively, but she doesn’t acknowledge it.

As you walk back to the Compound, her cold hand finds its way back into yours. You squeeze it tightly. 

The full team is waiting inside. Tony and Pepper hadn’t been invited out to the tree, the Stark Industries connection being an unspoken barrier. They wait with the others, just inside the main door.

You are frustrated at their insistence in being involved at all. It is not the time to reopen old wounds.

Inside, several traditional Sokovian dishes have been provided by a catering company. The drinks bar on the other side features Sokovian vodka prominently. You watch a careful wall develop behind Wanda’s eyes. You understand why. The gesture feels jarringly intrusive. As if Tony has dug up pieces of Wanda’s past and put them on display.

Steve talks to Wanda earnestly, telling her that Pietro was a hero. You watch her jaw tighten slightly at his words. You squeeze her hand again, wishing you could do anything else. 

Wanda slips her hand out of yours. She ignores the empty plates provided, instead going straight to the drinks bar. 

The atmosphere settles familiarly with everyone else, especially with Wanda on the other side of the room. Rhodey starts talking to you about something mundane. 

You watch Wanda pour herself a drink.

The awkwardness of the formal event makes every minute spent feel like an hour. After polite conversations with most people in the room, you watch Wanda slip away. 

Barely five minutes later, you do the same. You pretend not to see the others commenting on your hurried exit.

Her room is empty. You step into it briefly, scanning for signs of occupation. You stop at her window, heart sinking as you realise Wanda looks directly onto the large tree with ashes scattered beneath it.

A tight claustrophobic feeling binds itself around your chest. You hurry from the room, down the emergency stairwell, intending to find some fresh air. 

You nearly trip over Wanda, huddled on a stair. 

Apologies fly from your mouth instantly. Wanda stands up, brushing her dress off. Her face is pale and you can see the tremble in her fingers. 

Her attention is turned to you. 

‘Are you okay?’ She asks. 

‘Are you?’ You challenge unthinkingly. Wanda rolls her eyes. Her foot taps a large stolen bottle of Russian vodka, standing on the step below her.

‘No.’ She replies matter of factly. ‘I’m having a funeral.’ 

You nod, eyeing the vodka with a surge of envy.

‘Can I join?’ You ask bluntly.

.

Twenty minutes later, the world is getting hazy at the edges.  

The door at the bottom of the stairwell thuds open and you both startle. 

Together, you peer over the ledge. Wanda’s hand presses down on your inner thigh as she leans for a better view. You try not to think about how it feels.

For a moment, there is silence and no movement below. Then, Natasha appears, looking right up at you.

‘That is my vodka.’ She calls out. 

‘Was.’ You correct her teasingly. Natasha’s expression crinkles with a half smile.

‘Toast him from me.’ She requests simply, gaze meeting Wanda’s. 

Wanda nods and Natasha leaves, the door thudding again behind her. 

You lift the vodka bottle in silent toast, taking a drink before passing to Wanda. 

As she drinks, you notice a beauty mark on her cheek. Your eyes linger a little too long. 

Wanda watches you thoughtfully, before she puts the bottle down. 

She takes your hand carefully into her lap and lays it there gently, palm up. She traces the outline of your hand with her forefinger. Tingles shoot along your arm and down your spine. 

Drunkenly, you decided that Wanda is in fact magic. 

You watch as she carves a featherlight ‘P’ into your palm with her finger. You know the rest of the word to follow. 

When she’s  finished, Wanda begins again. You watch half hypnotised, overwhelmed by a feeling that you can’t name.

She writes her brother’s name again and again into your skin.

You don’t realise you are crying until the tears slide from your face.

‘He was your brother.’ You whisper with strange reverence, staring down at your palm. Wanda nods silently, pressing her thumb slowly into your palm. You curl your fingers gently around her and kiss the fist you make.

.

Weeks fly together after the funeral. Everyone seeks out a sense of routine, including Wanda.

Missions and training are the group focus of each day. 

There is no use denying the way you feel about Wanda. But, you try anyway. 

You are her only friend. You do your best not to mess it up.

Wanda trains far longer each day than you do. She is passed between different Avengers for specialised training. Natasha and Steve have sessions with her every day. 

Each afternoon, Wanda seeks you out in your room. You lie together on your bed, watching old sitcoms on the TV in the corner. Wanda’s hair is always wet from her shower and you fight a feeling of deja vu when she leans against you. 

You eat dinner together every evening. Sometimes afterward, Wanda’s head rests even heavier against your shoulder. You stay as still as you can, praying she might fall asleep. She never does.

You know that eventually something will disrupt the carefully balanced routine. 

It is a Tuesday. You are talking with Sam in the kitchen. 

A muffled explosion makes the building shudder. 

You are both already on your way toward the noise, when Jarvis informs you that it is a training accident. 

Sam slows down when Jarvis clarifies that nobody is hurt. You don’t.

As you approach the main training room, Steve is exiting it. He brushes past you like you’re not even there, shaking his head in preoccupation. 

You enter the room cautiously. Natasha is standing just inside the door. Her voice is pitched low, intentionally calming. 

You take in the scene. 

Mangled fitness equipment lies scattered. Training weapons are embedded like makeshift javelins in the wooden floor. 

Wanda stands at the heart of the explosion. There is no red aura around her, but it’s like you can taste the residue of it in the air.

Natasha gives you a cautionary look, as if she’s the zookeeper standing between you and a tiger.

‘Wanda.’ You call out anyway. The red pulse that marks your words is unmistakable.

‘Don’t come near me.’ Wanda spits at you. Her eyes train on Natasha again . “Either of you.’

Natasha’s jaw tightens as she nods.

‘Okay.’ She says calmly, keeping her front to Wanda as she backs out of the room. Through the glass pane in the door, Natasha waits for you to follow. 

You shake your head imperceptibly. Concern floods Natasha’s face before she leaves. 

You slide to sit on the ground, back against the wall.

You are alone together. There is the loudest silence. You can hear Wanda’s frustration in her breathing.

‘I told you to go.’ Wanda tells you in a tight voice. Minutes have passed. You wonder if she knows. 

‘You’re not a monster.’ You tell her resolutely, stretching for one of the unopened water bottles left discarded along with some kit bags. ‘I’m not treating you like one.’

Another minute passes. You sip the water that you don’t really want, grateful to have anything to do.

‘I am.’ Wanda whispers finally. She falls slowly to her knees.

‘You’re not.’ You counter firmly, climbing back to your feet. You walk over in a quick few steps, refusing to acknowledge any danger in being here. 

You feel Wanda tense worriedly as you get closer. So, you sit back down several feet away from her.

You slide the water bottle across the floor and Wanda takes it.

‘I’m not normal.’ She amends, fingers twisting the bottle cap. 

‘Doesn’t mean you’re a monster.’ You insist, feeling a hot protectiveness in your chest. 

‘You don’t know.’ Wanda tells you; and you see the echo of her mistakes written across her face.

‘I’d like to.’ You admit unthinkingly. 

Wanda looks back up at you. Her eyes feel fiery but her expression is pained. 

‘Don’t say things that you don’t mean.’ She warns, her accent curling harshly around the words. 

‘Never.’ You promise immediately. 

Realisation falls upon her face as you hold her stare. Wanda blows out a shaky breath. 

‘Don’t say things that you don’t mean.’ She whispers again. 

You crawl across the space between you. Your heart is in your mouth. 

‘Never.’ You hear yourself repeat. 

Wanda’s eyes are desperate, but she faces you with perfect stillness.

You brush her hair as you cup her jaw. Her eyes flutter shut at the sensation, her lips part slightly. 

You kiss her gently. You think of how delicate she doesn’t know she is. Her lips feel soft and then they feel like home.

—-----

You find her alone in the kitchen. It has been four weeks since the kiss in the training room. A month since everything clicked into place.

‘Hey.’ You call, unable to wipe the immediate smile from your face.

Wanda tenses and then she swears in a language you don’t understand. 

You hesitate in surprise.  

‘I’m cooking you dinner.’ Wanda informs you tensely, a moment later. 

You smell the air and hesitate at the strong but unfamiliar aroma. Wanda catches your unsure reaction. 

‘Something you’ve never heard of.’ She tells you, looking down at the stove in an attempt to hide her smile.

‘Yum.’ You tell her enthusiastically, walking over to the island counter. 

Wanda snorts, leaning familiarly back against you as your hands slide around her waist. You rest your head on her shoulder, sneaking a glance down at the mysterious dish. You are relieved to recognise chicken.

You revel in Wanda’s closeness, holding her tighter for a long moment.

‘I really do want to try it.’ You assure her. ‘It looks good.’ 

Wanda nods, but she doesn’t speak. 

Your fingers slide under her top, resting at her hip. You rub circles with your thumb against her skin. 

‘It’s my favourite meal.’ Wanda tells you quietly. You press your lips against her collarbone as you listen. ‘But it’s supposed to be something that you share.’

The echoes of her past feel weighted now. You stroke her cheek unthinkingly. 

‘Let me set the table.’ You offer simply.

.

You take the first piece of chicken from your plate and go to try it. You pretend Wanda’s eyes aren’t glued to you in anticipation.

The spice kicks in at the back of your throat and you splutter a cough. Your eyes water and you hear yourself wheeze as you reach for your drink.

Wanda is already on her feet, panic radiating from her. Her hand is on your back. 

There is an awful, embarrassing moment as you continue to splutter.

‘No.’ You finally force yourself to speak hoarsely, hitting yourself in the chest. ‘I’m fine. I’m fine.’ You give an awkward thumbs up as you finally swallow.

Wanda falls back in her seat. You watch her cover her face with her hands. A strange laugh bubbles out of her,

‘I thought I’d killed you.’ She admits suddenly.

You touch her shoulder unsurely. You can feel her start to shake, as her laughter descends into strange sobs. You taste the lump in your throat as you realise how very real her fear was. 

You want to tell her it’s illogical, irrational to worry about something like that. That you won’t die so easily. That it would never be her fault. 

You can’t lie.

You take her hand instead, pulling her wordlessly to your lap. Wanda buries her face against you, and you feel hot tears trickle down your neck. 

She clings to you in a way that she never has before. 

She has never seemed so vulnerable. You rub her back, hoping desperately that she doesn’t feel so vulnerable too.

Her cries slow and she takes a steadying breath. Wanda lifts her face to face the ceiling and wipes the tears from her pale cheeks. Your eyes catch automatically on her beauty mark. 

She moves to leave your lap, but you keep her steady. 

Wanda turns to face you, confused. 

You offer her your fork, another piece of chicken on the end. You shrug.

‘It’s meant to be shared.’

[wandaverse]

you could do it on your own (while you’re looking at me)

ceo!wanda x assistant!reader headcanons

tags: dom!milf!wanda, bimbo!pillowprincess!reader, smut, mentions of strap

— when she meets the group of applicants, wanda instantly knows who she wants. you’re a wide eyed fresh of out uni graduate with barely anything on your resume, but you’re exactly what she wants; a pretty girl who’s pliant and can fulfil her less than professional needs and demands

— before you, wanda always kept her office blinds down and door shut. now, she keeps them wide open so she can see you sitting at your desk like her perfect pretty princess right outside

— a few weeks after you’re hired, wanda orders you to wear skirts everyday. “it’s protocol,” she says. you don’t argue and merely nod with an obedient smile (it sends a rush through her body and she has to excuse her to the bathroom)

— when you attend business events by her side, often rich men think they have the right to lay their eyes on you. wanda quickly remedies that by slinking her arm around your waist and pulling you snuggly to her side

— afterwards, wanda learns to start leaving hickies or lipstick stains (or both) all over your neck and collarbones and chest and everywhere else people can see so they know exactly who you belong to

— wanda packs more often than not and you develop a new routine. during her lunch break (or earlier if neither of you can wait that long), you come in and she takes you on her desk, against the window, on the couch, on the floor, or even against the door for everyone outside to hear if they listen hard enough. she doesn’t think there’s a single inch of her office that she hasn’t christened with your touch

— other times when the day is slow or you’re bored (which is more often than not (she really didn’t hire you for your skills or work ethic)), you sneak into her office without knocking. like a bunny, you prance across the room and unzip her pants before sitting on her lap and warming her strap for the rest of the day

— your favourite position though is when you’re seated comfortably on the edge of her desk. even more so on the days she walks into the office wearing a tie. you become obsessed with pulling her into a kiss by the tie around her neck as she slots between your legs and you’re sat on her desk with your skirt hiked up around your waist

— when you get a little greedy with your touch, wanda resorts to yanking her tie off and using it to bind your hands together behind your back. you secretly love the thrill of being hers to play with when she does

— looking up at her with innocent and sleepy eyes in the afterglow, you request that she wears ties more often. and well, who is she to refuse her pretty princess

[ncis-nerd]

Our Princess

princess reader x servants!wandanat

warnings: cheating, pevert wandanat, jealousy, innocence kink, smut, pet names, slight non-con, dubious consent, oral (r receiving), dom!wandanat.

marvel masterlist

They knew what they were doing from the first moment they laid eyes on you. Fuck you were so perfect, the way your eyes widen when you giggled. How your dress rode up when you were watching TV. How innocent you were.

Your first interaction was when the two ladies were cleaning up. Wanda was washing the dishes in the kitchen with her apron on, Natasha sweeping the floors. That's when you wandered in, barefooted in a pink nightgown.

"Oh! Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt you guys!" you exclaimed, backing out of the kitchen. Natasha shot Wanda a smirk. Wanda met her gaze, they both were thinking the same thing- how fun messing with you would be.

Wanda bowed in your presence, "Don't mind us, princess." She purred. You, oblivious to their tactics, hummed in response. Making your way to a cabinet that was a bit too high for you. You stood on your tippy toes, your hand attempting to grasp the handle. In the process, your nightgown begins to ride up, giving the two women a view of your flowery underwear.

Fuck you looked so good like that, Natasha bit her lip. Wanda smacked Nat's arm, you were dating Maria and were their boss. You could ruin their lives with the flick of the wrist. But you were so addicting, they couldn't resist.

From that moment on, they'd try everything to be in your path but you suspected nothing. They were just trying their jobs, that's why you caught Wanda folding your underwear and Natasha sweeping the living room floor while you were trying to watch TV.

---

You hummed, reading a book in your little sundress. You were tanning in your backyard by the pool. Maria, your girlfriend, was coming over to hang out with you. The sun was particularly hot today so you figured why not spend the day outside.

You had sunglasses on, that protected your eyes and a towel draped over your chair. You couldn't wait to play with her in the pool. Maria is your girlfriend and she's the same age as you. You guys went to school together and Maria admitted her love for you so the logical thing to do was to get together. At first you were hesitant but not for the reasons Maria thought. No, it wasn't internal homophobia, it was the fact that you hadn't been with anyone before. But Maria didn't mind your lack of experience.

"Hey hun, your girlfriend is here." Natasha spoke, ratherly harshly but nonetheless drawing your attention. Wonder what must of gotten her upset.. Your eyes followed her as she went back into the house. The door opened behind her, your girlfriend came out.

"Mar!!!" You squealed, running into her arms. She smiled and picked you up, "Hey princess!!" She chuckled, carrying you bridal style, to the seats. "Missed you" you mumbled in her arms.

--

Wanda and Natasha watched from the windows. A feeling of jealousy sprang from this. It should be them out there with you. For you to run into Wanda's arms and Natasha to be the one carrying you.

For it to be their bodies against you, not that girl who couldn't care for you like they did. You needed real women to teach a delicate thing like you.

Natasha bit her lip as she watched Maria's hand rest on your ass. The way a innocent kiss from you, turned into Maria climbing onto of you. She began to leave kisses on your skin, marking you up. Maria looked up for a second, making eye contact with the two servants. She knew they were watching and was testing them. Daring them to try and stop this, to try and take her girl.

--

You whimpered softly, you couldn't believe this was happening. Maria straddled you and began to bite and suck on your skin, leaving hickeys all over you. "Mar, that hurts" you mumbled against her. "Let me have my way with you doll, I promise you'll be satisfied by the end." She pushed,

The two women watched this interaction and saw it unfold. The way you were pushing back against Maria, how she ignored your protests and just dismissed you. They had enough.

"Maria your parents called, they said it was an emgerncy and they need you home" Wanda spoke. Maria jumped off of y/n and hurried out after giving her a little peck on the forehead and a quick "goodbye".

--

After a moment of silence, Wanda made her way to you. You were sitting on the chair, your chest covered in marks from your girlfriend. A slight pout on your face. "What's the matter, dear?" Wanda cooed, Natasha coming up behind you with the same faux concern. "Yeah darling, what's got you all frowny? Hm?" Natasha hummed.

"Maria" you mumbled sadly, you didn't know why your girlfriend was suddenly acting like that. She said she'd take things slowly for you, but maybe it was going too slow for her liking.

"Awe, princess." Wanda whispered, stroking your back gently. "You know honey, we saw what happened. I think the problem is that you are such a delicate thing and your girlfriend doesn't understand that. A little thing liek you needs a real, mature woman fo help you navigate." She purred.

--

"I think she might be ready for us Wanda, this seems like the perfect timing." Natasha whispered in the hall, trying not to let you hear the conversation between the two of them. "I don't know Nat, she seems like she isn't interested. You saw how things went down with Maria. A simple kiss turned her off." Wanda protested.

--

Your face turned red, you were still thinking about what Natasha said earlier. How they'd treat you right, that you needed a mature woman teach you.

You began to feel an ache between your thighs. It was so wet and sticky, you didn't know what to do, so the only logical thing to do was to go ask the pair.

Your pillow bumps your clit as you make your way off your bed. You jolt in response, that feels weird but a good kind of weird. You attempt to gain that feeling back, of course not knowing what you're doing due to a lack of experience. Your hips rut against your pillow. You sigh gently, biting your lip to stiffle any sounds. A moan escapes your lips when suddenly you hear a voice hum in amusement.

You turn around to be greeted with Natasha's eyes which focused on the wet spot of your pillow and Wanda who was only smirking at you. Her eyes on your chest. Your nipples were hard and peeked through your thin tank top.

"H-How long have you been standing there?” you froze.

--

"Mhm" you cried out. Fuck, you looked so good like this, they just wanted to take you but they restricted themselves. A fragile little thing like you needs to be treated like a princess. Natasha's tongue circled your clit, your hips buckled against her. "She's so responsive." Natasha mumbled against you, the comment directed towards the other servant.

Wanda had you against her, your back to her front. She held your hips in place for Natasha. "There, there, it's okay princess. If it's too much just let me or Natty know" She whispered softly.

inspired by @esouliie