#jeweler!wanda maximoff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wstviewvidal · 7 days ago

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boulevardier- w. maximoff

pairing: rich!wanda x r

summary: sparks fly at a chance encounter

a/n: first part of dirty cash!! i finished this early december but i was so nervous to post it but i don’t want to keep yall waiting any longer. i hope yall like it!

minors do not interact

looking over at your friend, you give her a glare as you watch her mingle with some potential business partners. being dragged to a fundraising banquet as your friend’s plus one was a way you did not want to spend your saturday evening. especially a night that is full of rich privileged people— a place that you surely don’t feel you belong.

“but you owe me from when you needed me to bail you out of that date a few weeks ago, remember?” was what she told you— and it was true.

the said date went downhill in record time, not even lasting a full thirty minutes before you had your friend call with a fake emergency. your date continuously went on and on about the state of the economy and how people should be investing in stocks to grow wealth rather than focusing on a day job.

needless to say, your friend pulled through and gave an overly convincing act to get you out of there quickly.

your friend is now immersed in a discussion with a man in a suit, probably trying to win him over in hopes to find an investor for her small business. you slip away quietly and let her work her charm.

walking around the banquet hall, you admire the decorations and the ambiance, something you’re not used to being around. you watch as women walk around in either suits or beautiful dresses, you can’t help but admire and feel a little out of place. you’re not used to the flashy life that the people here live— you’ve never had the ample opportunities that the people in this room have had. feeling a sense of jealousy and insecurity run through your veins, you try to snap out of it. it’s not healthy and you know it, but you can’t help but wish you’d be in their shoes.

sighing softly to yourself, you you find a vacant seat at the open bar and order a drink while you people watch. you can hear the live music playing, the chatter of everyone’s conversations, clinking of champagne glasses, the expensive laughter.

imagining your life in their shoes while you nurse your cocktail is how you spend the next few minutes occupying your time.

“is it any good?” you hear a smooth, confident voice ask beside you.

glancing over, you’re met with a dark haired woman with captivating green eyes smiling at you— the kind that disarms you before you even realize it. you smile back and shrug a bit, “it’s a drink. i needed one.”

you joke, now looking over at her well tailored suit and dark makeup. she’s beautiful.

chuckling subtly, “i’d ask you how your night is going, but based off of that sentence— i think i know how it’s going so far. i’m wanda, it’s nice to meet you.” she puts her hand out for a handshake, the glint in her eyes showing her amusement in the introduction.

her hand is warm when you shake it and you can smell a hint of expensive perfume as she gets closer to you to sit in the seat next to you. she speaks with confidence and an alluring charm.

you introduce yourself and laugh, “i didn’t mean any bad by it, it’s just not my.. environment,” you gesture to the crowd around you, “the rich pretentious crowd, it all seems fake to me. dressing up in your finest jewels just to fake altruistic behavior.. it’s not real to me.”

perhaps the drink was already getting to you. maybe that’s the reason you’re letting out a word spill to the beautiful woman who just wanted to know if your paloma was good.

or maybe it’s the way she giggled along with a small nod of her head as you spoke your mind. either way, she wasn’t put off by your tangent. in fact, she continued to sit with you and entertained your preferred topic of discussion for the next few minutes.

wanda watches you with an amused smile on her face. her eyes linger a bit longer on your lips longer than they should.

“fake altruism, huh? what would make it real?” she asks, with a small tilt of her head. her eyes squint the tiniest bit, her grin showing genuine interest. her voice is inquisitive, almost like she’s trying to probe you for something.

had you gone too far? you hesitate to respond, realizing you’ve possibly offended her— wondering if you’ve crossed a line. instead, wanda’s smiling and leaning into you as she wants to hear more.

noticing your slight hesitation, “you know, not a lot of people have the guts to say that. i really like it,” she chuckles softly. wanda looks over your features with a small smile as you move on to talk animatedly about your line of work. she’s enamored by how you’re wearing your emotions on your sleeve— something she struggles with.

you catch yourself, “i’m so sorry, wanda. i’ve been talking at you this whole time.” you inwardly cringe at how you’ve been holding her up with your rambling.

she shakes her head and puts her whiskey down on the bar gently, “no, please, i’m enjoying you. this is quite possibly the most entertainment i’ve had all night so far.” she puts a comforting hand on your forearm that’s resting on the bar in a comforting approach, she’s giving you a genuine smile. her gesture lasts a second too long, her gaze feeling a bit more personal than it needs to be.

“what are you here for?” you shake your head and change the subject to her, wanting to know more about her and why she’s still here wanting to be with you.

her eyes flicker towards the crowd and she hesitates for a moment, almost debating whether or not to be honest with you, “i’m just here for work, requirement by the job.” she shrugs and avoids eye contact, switching the subject back to you. she plays with the rim of her cup, not quite giving you her undivided attention like she just was.

weird.

you don’t spend too much time on it, not wanting to push her away. “i’m here for my friend. she recently started a new business and is hoping to find an investor here, make a good connection.”

you tell her as you gesture to your friend who’s now moved onto her next target of the night. she’s speaking with a woman this time, half interested in what she’s talking about.

wanda nods and follows to where your gesturing, “hm, i’ll have to check her out later.”

you two laugh and talk about different topics over the next ten minutes— ambitions you two have, where you two went to school, where you want to travel. the conversation is lighthearted but the both of you are enjoying the other’s presence.

shaking her head with a laugh, “paris is overrated. you’ll spend more time in traffic than seeing the eiffel tower.”

she watches your expression with a teasing smirk as she says this. she can tell paris is the one place you have always wanted to go to, but she wants to rile you up a bit. pure enjoyment is written on her face as she watched your face contort in mock and offense.

scoffing and looking at her with an incredulous glance, “so tell me where you’d recommend since you’re so well travelled.”

you place your chin in your hand as you await her response. your eyes are slightly glazed over and wanda can’t help but melt at the way the lights are reflecting in your eyes.

wanda grins at your tease, “vienna. no contest. it’s beautiful, and the pastries there will ruin everywhere else for you. you need to go if you ever find the opportunity.” she’s gazing at you intently as you take in her words, the way you’re nodding along to what’s she’s saying with genuine intrigue.

you are just about to respond right as a man taps her on the shoulder and says something under his breath that you can’t quite catch. he leans in with a hint of impatience and you can see how wanda’s posture goes rigid and her jaw tightens.

wanda grimaces and lets out an exasperated sigh, “i’m sorry. they’re calling me for work. i’ll try to find you after, okay? please don’t leave until i see you again. i’d hate to lose my best conversation of the night.”

she gets up from her chair and gives your shoulder a squeeze, lingering a bit longer than needed, her thumb brushes against your skin. she smiles at you warmly just before she takes off in the direction of the man.

you watch as she leaves, noticing how people look in her direction with a hint of awe as she walks past. it makes sense since she had you wrapped around her finger in such a short amount of time.

you leave the bar to find your friend, glancing in the direction wanda left with a love struck smile on your face.

you find her and ask how the networking went. she lets out a sigh of content, “i can’t believe i got to talk to so many people! i gave them all my buriness card and i hope they’ll get in contact with me sometime this week.”

you nod along as she speaks, but subtly looking around the room for any glimpse of the well dressed brunette who had you captivated as soon as she spoke to you.

“did you meet anyone? you’ve been cooped up at the bar all night,” your friend asks as she nudges your shoulder playful with a grin.

rolling your eyes, “actually, yeah. i was talking to a woman, she seems sweet.”

your friends eyes lighten up and she grabs your arm with a small squeal. you laugh at her excitement about your (potentially) blossoming love life. she has continuously tried to set you up on dates in the past, but it never works out.

you groan and cringe, “i know, i know, but remember that i just met her and we don’t even know if-“

your friend shushes you with a stern look, “stop, look! that’s the ceo, the one i told you about earlier i hope i can get in with. she sponsors and invests in a lot of companies and schools. if i can get in with her, it’s like winning the lottery.”

you furrow your eyebrows and turn around to face the stage she’s pointing you to. it takes you a second to find a gap to look in between the bodies in front of you.

and there she is— wanda. your wanda. only now, there she is smiling in all her glory, waving at the crowd that is now forming in front of the stage. the faintest smile on her lips as she gently waves to the crowd.

“oh my god,” your blood runs cold and you freeze in place. you look over at your friend with a terrified look, eyebrows pulling together and eyes wide.

heat rushes to your face and you begin to replay every word you’d said to her at the bar. did she think you were mocking her? your hands begins to clench in nervousness and you want the ground to swallow you whole.

you messed up.

your friend looks at you with a confused look, then pieces it together slowly as she gauges your facial expressions. “oh my god,” she grabs your arm, “oh my god!”

people around look at you two, some shushing you with judgemental looks on their faces. she giggles and mouths, ‘no way.’

she’s filled with excitement at the potential in, you’re filled with dread and embarrassment as you mule over the fact that you complained about this event to wanda. wanda maximoff, the ceo of maximoff industries— founder and organizer of the charity event you’re attending.

your face heats up in embarrassment and you try to hide behind your friend as wanda speaks.

“good evening, everyone,” she stands tall and poised, her voice steady and confident, “thank you all for being here tonight. together, we all share a common goal: to invest in the future by supporting the education of our children.”

you muffle out wanda’s words as you try your best to stand still and not make any sudden movement. maybe if you’ll suddenly become invisible if you stand still enough.

unbeknownst to you, wanda was trying her hardest to spot you in the crowd. unfortunately, the stage lights kept her from being able to clearly see beyond the podium.

you feel queasy and lightheaded as you quickly walk to the restroom. you lean against the sink and try to steady your breathing as much as you can. of course you would somehow offend a ceo at their own event.

you groan as you force yourself to suck up your ego and walk back out into the now booming crowd.

you try to keep a low profile as you walk parallel to the wall— the last thing you want is to offend someone else here.

“there you are,” wanda walks up to you with a two glasses of champagne in her hand. she hands one to you with a smile, “i thought you left me.”

you take the glass with a polite smile, then cringing inwardly as you remember your word vomit at the bar. “listen, wanda, i’m so sorry about what i said. the event is beautiful and i love what you’re doing for the community. it’s amazing, really.”

the words come out rushed and wanda can see a flush on your cheeks. she chuckles softly and shakes her head, “hey, you’re okay. it’s okay. i didn’t take any offense, in fact, i really admire your honesty. it’s rare that i get that nowadays. you really.. stood out tonight.”

you groan and avert your eyes from her. she looks you over and admires you silently. she wants to laugh at your now embarrassed demeanor, a stark contrast to your extroverted energy at the bar.

she realizes she’s been looking at you for too long , clearing her throat and bringing the champagne up to her lips. she looks over the rim at you, trying to be as subtle as possible. your side profile is illuminated by the string lights on the ceiling, your eyes twinkling a bit more than before. perhaps the alcohol now settling in your blood stream? or maybe the fact that wanda actively sought you out after her speech.

you turn to wanda with a small sigh, “are you sure you’re not offended?” you play with the bracelet on your left wrist to try and ground yourself. you feel horrible and uncomfortable in her presence now.

wanda placed a warm hand on your forearm with a gentle look, “i promise. i mean, maybe don’t write off an event before you know what it’s about. people can surprise you, you know?”

wanda’s voice is teasing but soft and comforting. her eyes show no sign of telling a lie and you let out a small laugh at the situation. wanda nudges you with her shoulder softly as she goes to stand next to you.

for a split second, you want to throw caution to the wind and get to know her. you want to ask personal questions— hope there’s something more there.

but you don’t get the chance to. the same man who pulled her away earlier is now speaking into her ear and you can see how irritated she quickly gets with what he’s saying. nodding at what he says, she turns to you with an apologetic look on her face.

“it was refreshing talking to you,” she wants to say more, wants to offer to get you another drink— but she can’t, “take care of yourself, okay?”

and just like that, she’s gone into the crowd. maybe this wasn’t meant to continue on past tonight. maybe meeting wanda was just meant to be a chance encounter.

your friend walks up to you with a furrowed brow, “you’re seriously going to just let her leave?”

you can see the subtle hint of frustration on her face, the wild gesturing in wanda’s direction making it evident she wasn’t happy that you let her leave.

shrugging softly, “i’m sure she’s got better things to do.”

your voice is soft as you stare at wanda speaking with a group of people. she’s got an effortless grace and charm to her, something you don’t have.

following your friend to the exit, you try to push back the thought of wanda and the ‘what if.’

but the memories of her lingering touches, the laughs at your jokes, her soft smiles are now engraved into your mind. you don’t expect to see her again, but a part of you so desperately wishes you could.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x r #wanda maximoff x reader #noe writes #dirty cash #wanda maximoff fanfiction #rich wanda maximoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #wstviewvidal

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xxxdreamscapexxx · 4 months ago

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The witch in the woods

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 9.4k

Summary: You dreamt of that woman again. The one with hair like dying flames and eyes so green, they almost shone like jewels. The one you've seen ever since you were little. She was leading you somewhere, deep into the forest, where you were forbidden to go and this time, she took you farther than you've ever been, to a place you could hardly believe existed. When you wake and make your way to the woods, you finally find her... But there is a monster after you too. Running for your life, you let her lead you to a temple. A place where her revelations will change your life forever.

Warnings: This is a bit dark. Descriptions of death and violence, descriptions of past abuse and imprisonment... This will feature a slightly dark Wanda.

Masterlist with all my works.

You woke up with a start in the middle of the night, cold sweat covering your body, your chest heaving and your heart beating wildly. You’d dreamt of that woman again. The one with hair like dying flames and eyes so green, they almost shone like jewels. You remember her plush lips forming words you couldn’t quite make out, the sound of her voice drowned out, as if there was an invisible wall between you. It was always like that. You didn’t dream of her every day, you’d gone weeks without seeing her, yet when you dreamt of her, it was always like this. Ever since you were little. You could see her quite clearly, but you could never hear her. She was leading you somewhere, deep into the forest, where you were forbidden to go, but if she ever reached out, tried to touch you, you could always feel that wall between you, separating you, pushing her back. Tonight was the same. You had travelled the familiar path in the forest, the same one she always led you through, until you had reached a strange stone structure, carved into the face of a cliff. You’d never seen that before. She’d never managed to take you this far, before you woke. The structure was built like an ancient temple with an entryway, just large enough for a single person to pass through and though it seemed abandoned, you could see the light of torches flickering there. The woman beckoned you closer, walking backwards, her eyes fixed on you as she passed the two stone giants that stood guard in this ancient place and made her way inside. She stood in the light of the torches, her shadow spilling across the dusty stone floor, as she curled a single finger, inviting you to step through.

You tried, your steps light, as if you were walking on clouds, but as soon as you tried to pass through the threshold, an invisible force held you back. You could step no further than this. And no matter how much the woman held out her hand and offered it to you, you could not take it. She seemed to realize it first and her expression seemed to change, a flash of anger showing, before it was gone. It happened so quickly, you almost thought you imagined it. But when you looked at her, all you saw in her eyes was longing. And then determination, as she extended her hand again. But the more she tried to reach you, the more your surroundings seemed to fade. You tried to reach out for her too, instinctively looking for something or someone to hold on to, but it made it worse. The ground beneath you gave way and suddenly you were falling, deep into the earth and away from her, trying to grasp something or try to break your fall, but there was nothing except blackness… You tried to remember that it was just a dream. That you were safe. You were in your house, in your room, in your own bed and nothing bad could ever reach you here. Those words were engraved in you from a young age. Your mother always whispered them to you, when you woke up screaming. She would always pull you close to her chest, let you listen to the sound of her heartbeat and tell you a story, her voice soothing and low. She would stay with you until the morning and smile, brushing away hair from your face. “You see, Y/N, here you will always be safe.” Your parents said that a lot. They were protective of you, perhaps more than a parent should. Others, less sheltered than you, were better equipped to face life and its hardships and as you grew older you tried to explain it to them, tried to tell them that you needed to experience freedom at least once in your life. The same kind you only knew in your dreams. “You’re simply too precious to us, sweetheart.” Your mother would say. “The world is a dangerous place.” Your father would warn. That’s why you were never allowed outside the city walls, never allowed to play in the woods with the other kids, never left unsupervised to roam the streets. There was always someone there to watch over you. And, though you hated to admit it, sometimes you could understand the reasoning behind it. Sometimes you would just… Forget yourself. Your parents would find you in strange places, would chase you down alleys you never remembered entering, they would call out your name and see you walk right past them as if you didn’t see them at all.

When asked where you were going, you could never tell. You weren’t going anywhere. You hadn’t heard them speak at all. But that wasn’t quite true. You had a longing for the forest. You always felt this pull towards it and no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it always gnawed at you. Sometimes, you allowed this pull to guide you, but you never got far. Once, when you were 15, they had caught you just at the edge of the woods. Your mother had turned her back on you to speak to one of the merchants that sold his goods in the town square, and when she turned you were gone. And no matter how much she called out to you, no reply came. She never told you how she found you on the small winding path that led into the forest, or how she had thought to look for you there. She just told you to be careful. To never enter the woods. There were creatures that hid among the shadows, that creeped silently under the brush and waited, until they could get a stranger to stray from their path. There were demons too. Evil things made of shadow. They swallowed you into the darkness and made sure you never made you way back home. But worst of all were the witches that roamed. Your mother liked to say witches, yet she always spoke of one. The Scarlet witch. In the tales, she wore a crown made of bones and her eyes shown red in the darkness. Her fingers were dipped in black, for once, she had reached into hell itself, to pull back the soul of a man who had wronged her. She had kept his soul caged into the ruby at her neck, tormenting him with her powers, for she had deemed that hell was too good a place for someone like him. The endeavour had forever stained her, marked her for the world to see. Your mother had been telling stories of the Scarlet Witch since you were little. Always cautioning you to stay away from the woods, lest you fall victim to her too. And you had. You’d always heeded your mother’s advice, always strode to be a good daughter, to show your parents the respect they deserved. But you were no longer a little girl. You were 21 now, a woman, and though you cherished the safety of your home, you felt like you needed more. You yearned for adventures, for something more than the monotony of your sheltered life. You wanted to see the world. Yet, you knew, that your parents could never afford to send you off, letting you travel and explore. Now, when your breathing had calmed and your mind had cleared, you looked around your childhood home, listened to the quiet that surrounded you, looked at the familiar furniture, the cozy fireplace, the warm blankets that covered you and all you could think about was that longing. You wanted, no you needed more. You craved that freedom you felt in the forest.

You got up from your bed in a rush, taking your heavy coat and pulling it around your shoulders. In the excitement you forgot to change out of your night gown and into more comfortable clothes, but as you stood at the door, you didn’t want to risk going back, afraid the sounds may wake your parents, who slept peacefully in the next room. You put on comfortable shoes and had enough sense to grab a bottle of water, before you turned and left your childhood home behind. The small footpath that lead into the woods looked far less inviting in the dark. The blood moon had risen tonight, shining red and somehow eery in its beauty, but even under its light, you could hardly see. Your eyes couldn’t pierce the shadows, but you could hear the sounds of night animals all around you. You heard a branch snapping somewhere in the distance, the shuffling of small feet in the grass, you could hear the rapid beating of wings somewhere above you and the tiny screeches of bats. The night was alive and a part of you regretted that you couldn’t see all of its beauty. When you reached the edge of the forest you hesitated. It was even darker under the branches, you realized and the air seemed cooler too, making you shiver even in your warm coat. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to come all alone. You could ask your parents tomorrow, come by the light of day. But they would never allow it. You knew well. You’ve asked many times. And they would never let you out of their sight either. Especially if they learned that you had managed to slip away in the night. This was your only chance for an adventure. You knew that. And besides… Nothing had ever actually happened to anyone in the woods. It was all tales, told by your mother to scare you. With renewed determination, you walked forward, keeping to the path you could still make out. It twisted and turned between the trees, a small line that seemed to keep the forest from crowding around you. Branches hung above you like bony hands, their fingers outstretched towards you and the leaves seemed to rustle, even though there was no wind. You’d walked there, heart hammering in your chest for what felt like hours, though you knew it couldn’t have been that long, when, as you tried to keep your steps steady and your breaths even, somewhere in the back of your mind, you heard a voice. A woman’s voice. A beautiful voice that wrapped around you in a calming blanket. “Let me in.” It whispered softly. Gently. Like a lullaby that only you could hear. Some part of you knew to be afraid of this voice. That you should take caution, for you have never heard it before.

“Hello?” You called out, turning this way and that. But there was no one to be seen. “Come to me.” Answered the voice, still gentle, still soft, yet something about it demanded to be answered, to be acknowledged, to be headed. “Come to me.” You knew now, as you stood in the darkness, that only you could hear this voice. That the words the woman had spoken were in your mind and nowhere else. But how could that be? Such a thing was not possible… Not human. The thought scared you more than you cared to admit and you felt cold sweat bead on your forehead. Your hands shook terribly all of a sudden and you started to turn, looking around you frantically. “Calm yourself little bird.” The voice spoke again, that same low whisper and it felt like the words alone slowed down the frantic beating of your heart. “Stay calm. No harm will come to you.” It said assertively. “Just let me in. I’ll keep you safe.” It said, and it felt like fog was wrapping around your thoughts, pushing them back, so the voice can take over. It was almost like you were being hypnotized and you tried to keep your nerves from getting the best of you. God, you tried. But you were scared and alone and you didn’t know where you were going. You didn’t know where this voice was coming from or what was lurking in the shadows of the woods. You just knew it didn’t feel like an adventure anymore, it didn’t feel like freedom. It felt like a snare, slowly closing around you. With a scream, you turned the way you came from and ran. You ran as fast as your legs could muster, your eyes fixed on the path in front of you. You didn’t dare look around you anymore, too scared of what you’ll see. You were terrified. Your mother was right! There were monsters in the woods and you had come alone! Such a stupid thing to do! “It will be all right, my sweet girl.” That same voice rang in your head. Sweet. Lovely. Full of affection even. “Come to me.” It beckoned, that fog starting to cloud your thoughts again. “Help!” You screamed as your mind worked itself into a frenzy. “Someone, please!” You shouted, the force of the scream almost bruising. Your throat felt raw. Your legs felt like putty, the fear coursing through your veins the only thing that kept you upright, kept you moving. Suddenly, the sound of a branch snapping somewhere behind you sent another spike of fear within you, and your head turned, following the sound. In your frenzy you could hardly see anything, only trees and the deep shadows that occupied the space between them. You didn’t bother to stop, too afraid that whatever lurked in the darkness would catch up to you. Your feet carried you forward, even as your head was turned, stumbling over the forest path.

That’s when you felt yourself collide with something, the mass in front of you solid and unmoving. You had only a moment to process that you had struck something, before you were falling, your body rushing towards the ground. You knew that the fall was inevitable and you outstretched your hands on instinct, trying to break it, but in the last possible second, you were stopped. You hung, suspended in the air, your eyes closed, your hair falling around you like a curtain as a pair of strong arms held you up. Whatever you struck had caught you. The person, if it was even a person, you thought in horror, straightened you, depositing you on your feet. “Are you all right?” A woman asked, brushing strands of hair from your face. “You almost fell.” She explained, lifting your chin to get a better look at you, her green eyes scanning for any injury. That’s when you truly saw her. Truly focused on her face and her features. It was her! It was the woman from your dreams. She had the same fiery hair, the same piercing green eyes, the high cheekbones, the same soft lips. “It’s you!” You exclaimed without thinking. “I know you.” The woman looked back at you with the same bewilderment in her eyes. Her brows shot up at the sight of you and her lips parted in surprise, her breath held for a long moment. But she seemed to recover much faster than you and her lips stretched into a smile. “I think I know you too.” She said. “From my dreams.” That smile almost had your knees buckle all over again, but the moment was short-lived as you remembered just where you were and that there was a monster after you.

“We have to leave!” You told the woman suddenly. “There is a monster.” You said, your voice shaking. “It spoke to me. It was after me!” You exclaimed in rush, grasping her by the shoulders. “What monster?” The woman asked, her eyes widening in shock. “I don’t know! I heard it! It was calling me! We have to leave!” You tried to tell her, turning to leave and taking her hand in yours. It was cold. You tried to lead her down the path you were running, back towards the town, but she didn’t move, pulling you backwards towards her, making you almost fall back in her arms. “Not that way.” She said quietly. “Come with me. I know a place where we can hide.” She whispered, as if sharing a secret only known to her. “But the town…” You tried to protest. “It’s too far away.” She said in a rush, already pulling you into the shadows of the trees and deeper into the forest. You ran side by side and you were grateful that you were no longer alone. Your mind raced the whole time, replaying what had happened. You kept coming back to that moment, to that voice that spoke. It had felt like a second consciousness, scratching at the back of your mind, clawing its way in. No, it wanted to be let in. “Let me in.” You heard it again, hissing, as if the thought of it had been a call it followed through the dark and all the way back to you. You screamed, your steps faltering, slowing to a halt as you cried out. “What’s wrong?” The woman beside you doubled back, grasping you by the shoulders and forcing you to look at her. “What happened?” She asked, concerned, her eyes darting left and right. “I heard it again. It’s close. It’s going to get us!” You whaled in panic, your eyes filling with unshed tears. “No, it won’t. Just breathe.” She guided you, pulling on your arm and forcing your body to start walking even when all you wanted to do was collapse on the ground and cry. “We’re almost there.” She promised, urging you forward. Without protest you obeyed, trying your hardest to stop thinking of the monster that followed you through the dark. At least you would not die alone, you mused, the thought surprisingly calming to your frayed nerves. And you had met the woman from your dreams. She was guiding you through the woods, just as you always dreamt, but this time you could hear her, feel her. This time you knew she was real. She continued to hold your hand, helping you climb over fallen trees and under low branches. She walked confidently, as if she’d walked this unmarked path before and didn’t look as scared as you were. She didn’t look scared at all. Did she not believe you? And where was she taking you? Surely, you would have been back in town by now. But you were so breathless from running and climbing, that you couldn’t spare the energy to ask all the questions that swirled in your head. “Almost there.” She assured you, her cold hands helping you up.

The climb up was steep here and your breaths came in rapid succession. You could feel a sheen of sweat underneath your nightgown and you felt so over-heated that you wanted to shrug off your coat. How were her hands so cold still? And why was she not afraid? What was she even doing in the woods in the middle of the night? Before you could ask, she pulled you up, over a large rock, and she helped you to your feet with surprising strength. How was she so strong, you wondered, that she could catch you when you fell, that she could drag you through the woods, when you had no more strength to run. But your question died down, when you looked up. You were faced with the same building from your dream. That large temple, carved into the cliff, with its stone giants standing guard around the entrance and you had to hold back a gasp. It looked out of place here, in the middle of the woods and you wondered how no one had ever seen it or spoken of it before. How was it possible that no one had found it? How come this woman knew exactly where to find it, and why was she leading you here? “What is this place?” You asked her, reluctant to make another step towards it. “Just a ruin.” She said simply, shrugging at the words, trying to seem disinterested. But you could tell there was more to it than that. She was hiding something. Perhaps you suspicion showed, because the woman forced herself to continue. “An alter, built for the old gods.” She said when she saw you weren’t moving. “For tonight, it’s our sanctuary from the monsters.” She said encouragingly, once again offering her outstretched hand. “How did you know it’s here? I’ve never heard of it.” You probed further. You reached to take the hand she was offering, only hesitating slightly when you remembered all those dreams, when she disappeared when your hands tried to touch. She seemed to notice your hesitation and she smiled, closing the distance and taking your hand firmly in hers. “This time I’m not going to fade away.” She said softly. “I’ll never disappear again.” The words sounded like a strange promise and they startled you, and you noticed with suspicion that she didn’t answer your question, but whatever reservations you had, quickly gave way to fear, as you heard the distant sound of footsteps somewhere in behind you. The woman heard them too, it seemed, because she held your hand more firmly and started to run towards the temple, the faint light of a torch already visible somewhere inside. “How do we know it won’t follow us inside?” You asked, your voice raising as you ran faster. “There is no door!” You noted in panic, neck craning back, so you could look in the darkness behind you, trying to pinpoint the source of the noises. “You’ll be safe with me.” The woman said. And it wasn’t just the familiarity of the words, but the tone of her voice that reminded you of the eery voice you had heard in your head. “Don’t worry. Just follow me.” She assured, half-pulling you behind her.

You had almost reached the entrance to the temple, the stone giants looming over you threateningly. Your feet were moving on muscle-memory alone at this stage, as you were being dragged by the stranger. She didn’t seem bothered by that, she kept pulling you forward with palpable urgency. You kept turning back, trying to see who or what was following behind you in the darkness, but you could see no one. Only shadows. You were right at the entrance, when your feet gave up and you stopped, your chest heaving and your mind reeling. You weren’t sure what to trust anymore. She looked innocent enough, had done nothing but help you in your fear and panic, yet there was something wrong you couldn’t quite put your finger to. Who was she? What was she doing in the woods in the middle of the night? How come you stumbled upon her? Was the timing really fortuitus, or was there more to it than that? How did she know of this place? Where did it come from? Why had you seen her in your dreams, but never in town, or at the market? How come her face hadn’t changed in all the years you’d dreamt of her? Why did she drag you up here, instead of taking you back to the safety of the town? There were too many questions. You felt overwhelmed. “We have to hurry!” She said, as she saw the hesitancy in your eyes. “Just come with me inside.” She commanded, more than asked, grabbing your hand by the wrist. “We don’t have much time.” She insisted, when you once again didn’t move, her grip hardening, and almost painful. “What’s after us?” You asked, your head turning once more to the darkness behind you. It was even harder to see now that you were closer to the light inside the temple. “Who else is inside?” “There’s no one inside. It’s been abandoned for centuries.” She insisted. “There’s a lit torch inside!” You stood your ground. “Someone must have brought it.” “The torch is mine. Only I come here. Only I know of this place. And I cannot keep you safe, unless you step inside.” The woman said, irritation clear in her voice. “Keep me safe from what?” You asked, matching her exasperation. But your resolve faltered when you heard the approaching steps, someone panting, getting closer… The woman heard them too, her eyes darting to the darkness behind you, widening in genuine fear. You had to choose. Trust the stranger, or take your chances with the monster. “Let me in!” You heard that voice again, gravely and insisting, scratching at your consciousness. Whatever it was, you knew you would not be able to face it. You’d rather take your chances with the stranger. You nodded at her, your foot lifting from the ground to make that final step inside, when you heard a scream behind you. Desperate. Piercing. And full of anguish. “Y/N!” It shouted through the dark and you instantly recognized your mother’s voice. But it was too late. The woman beside you used your momentum and pulled you through the threshold of the temple, her hands encasing you greedily once you were already inside. “There we go. Now you’ll always be safe with me.” The woman whispered next to your ear, holding you to her chest like a prized doll, while your mother’s frame came into the light. “Y/N!” Your mother shouted, running, trying to pass through the threshold of the temple. “Mother!” You screamed, trying to shrug away the stranger, but her grip was iron-clad.

Before your mother could pass, heavy axes crossed in front of the entrance with a deep, bone-rattling rumble, as if the cliff itself was going to collapse on top of you. “Let me in!” Your mother screamed, desperate. She’d been the one running after you all this time. She was looking for you! She was here to help you. To save you! So where had the voice come from? Your eyes turned on the strange woman and when you saw the expression on her face, you knew instantly that this was all her doing. She had lured you here. She’d used her knowledge of you to gain your trust, she’d used your fear to make you go with her, when you should have ran home. And when you had started to question what was going on, she had used your fear of a monster, to drag you further. There was no monster at all. There was only her. “You! It was you all along, wasn’t it!” You screamed, your fists beating against her chest with ferocity. “Y/N, honey, just come outside.” Your mother spoke behind you, her voice a mixture of fear and worry. “Just come out.” She coaxed. And you tried, turning your back on the woman, you ran towards the entrance, but as soon as you reached the threshold, it suddenly glowed deep red, the markings of ancient runes appearing under the dust and your body collided with an invisible barrier. Just like in your dreams, something held you back, but this time, instead of keeping you away from the woman, it separated you from your mother, who tried to bang her fists against the stone axes of the giants. “You won’t be going anywhere. Not when I finally have you.” The woman said with a note of finality. She raised her hands, red mist swirling around her fingers and curling around her like vines. Her clothes suddenly changed. Her simple wool dress and cloak quickly replaced by tight leather pants and a corset of deep red, hugging all her curves perfectly. A cloak of the same deep red hugged her shoulders and flew behind her and her simple walking shoes turned to black leather boots. “Have me? Why do you even want me?” You asked, trying to shake away the shock, the confusion, the utter impossibility of what you were seeing. You were tired and your legs hurt from the climb and all you wanted was to go home. “Who are you?!” You asked in exasperation. “She is the Scarlet witch.” Your mother answered behind you, her face sullen. The woman, no, the witch smiled, a grin so wide and sinister, it was the only confirmation you needed. Your mother was right. “Yes.” The woman confirmed, her shoulders straightening, her chin lifted high. “But you may call me Wanda.” She added, her eyes fixed on you. “I won’t be calling you anything.” You said in a moment of bravery. “I’m leaving!” You insisted. “Walk away from me if you can.” The witch said, her hand briefly gesturing towards the entrance. Her confidence sent a chill down your spine. “Please, you don’t have to do this.” Your mother pleaded. “You can have me.” She offered. “I’ll come with you willingly, just let my daughter go. Please!” “You know I won’t.” The witch addressed your mother, a gentle smile gracing her features. “Why not?” Your mother insisted. “We are of the same blood. Whatever you need from her, I have as well! Just take me. I will come to you willingly, I will do as you bid, I will remain for as long as you want. I will serve you. Just let my daughter go. Please. Have my life if you want it, but spare my daughter.”

The pleading look in your mother’s eyes almost broke your heart and the witch’s features seemed to mirror yours. It seemed she understood your mother’s anguish and you felt hope fill your heart that whatever was going on, whatever unspoken truths your mother and this woman shared, may be the key to your freedom. “It’s not blood I seek.” The witch said solemnly. “Y/N was made for me. My soulmate. My love. My one. No one can take her place.” Wanda explained, longing filling every word. “And nothing and no one will take from me again.” She added, grim determination settling across her features. “Leave us be.” She hissed in your mother’s direction. “You know I won’t.” Your mother responded, mirroring the witch’s response from earlier, steel laced in every word. You thought your mother would charge at the woman, with the way her eyes blazed, but she started to say something instead. A low muttering you couldn’t understand. Strange words filled the air in a language you didn’t understand and suddenly the world seemed to stand still. As if the world itself stopped to witness your mother’s strange words. She spoke them louder and louder, chanting them into the air, her voice rising until it was all you could hear, gathering momentum. For a moment it felt like the temple itself shook with her words, groaning, as if awakening from a deep sleep and your mother chanted louder, but you could tell that whatever she did cost her. She fought to keep her strange words from losing their rhythm, but you could tell she wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer. As if awakened from a trance, you stepped forward, joining your mother’s chant, giving it strength, feeding whatever spell she was casting. You didn’t know what she was doing, if her strange chant would even work, you just knew it was your only chance of leaving this temple. Your voices grew stronger together and you felt that hope inside you expand, you took a tentative step towards the entrance, then another, chanting the strange words over and over again, the temple shaking all around you, as if in protest. In a moment of bravery, you made the final step. You closed your eyes and believed that it will work, that you will open your eyes and you will find yourself outside and in your mother’s embrace. Instead your body struck that invisible wall again, the barrier pushing you back and making you stumble as you tried not to fall.

Your voice faltered, frustration and fear replacing the hope you had felt. Your mother looked defeated too, her words dying down and turning into sobs. She looked so defeated. The witch did nothing. Just watched it all unfold. Her head was still held high, her expression impassive even after her victory. She looked thoughtful. Almost like she wasn’t fully present, her thoughts straying to something distant. “It’s been so long since I heard those words.” The Scarlet witch said, as if to ground herself. “But you have only a fraction of the spell.” She added cockily. “And even if it was whole, It took 3 covens, 36 witches to imprison me here. You think the two of you have the power for it?” She asked, anger rising within her. “They don’t make witches like they used to.” She growled, bitter. “Their power burned like the sun! And it took every last bit of it, for them to seal the temple.” She said through gritted teeth. “You’re walking on their bones.” She spat at your mother. “You don’t have what it takes. Just a spark of that magic. Pathetic.” As if disgusted with your mother’s weakness, the witch waved her hand and the entrance to the temple disappeared, leaving your mother on the other end. “No!” You screamed, running towards the doorway again and banging your fists against the stone, which didn’t seem to push you back any longer. It was cold and unmoving and solid enough for you to know that there was no way through. “Let me out of here!” You screamed at the witch, your cold eyes turning on her. “Never.” She responded simply. Surprisingly, there was no malice behind those words, no cruelty… Just longing and determination and something about it startled you. “Why? Why do you even want me? I’m no one. I’m not special! I don’t have magic…” You asked, trying to reason with the woman, trying to make sense of what you were seeing, of the strange new things you had learned. “Oh, but you are. You’re very special to me.” The Scarlet witch said with a sad smile. “You were everything to me once.” She continued, stepping closer, her eyes betraying the hurt she felt, when you instinctively stepped away. “But you were taken from me.” She sighed, stopping in her tracks, as if remembering that she was a stranger to you. “What do you mean? I don’t even know you!” You screamed at her.

You felt helpless and confused, you were tired and scared… You just wanted to go home. But what waited for you there? Your mother was a witch. She’d always spoke with such contempt about witches, yet she was one herself. And she had known this woman was after you, she had known she was here all this time, scheming and plotting to find a way to bring you here. She’d told you the Scarlet witch was evil. But she didn’t have glowing red eyes, or black fingers and she had no crown made of bone. She was just a woman… God, you didn’t know what to think! “Walk with me.” The witch spoke after a few long moments. She kept her tone even, her voice low, as if she was worried she might scare you away if she spoke too loudly. She turned her back on you then, walking away without turning back to see if you followed. Her steps echoed on the stone floor as she walked through passages and hallways lit by torches. The air smelled of candlewax and sweet-scented oils. She led you past doors and passages, further and farther into the temple, making you scale winding staircases, until you reached a huge, circular chamber. You could see candles scattered all around and torches mapped the edges of the room. The alter at its center was huge and covered in markings, ancient runes and symbols you couldn’t recognize. At first you thought that the domed roof had collapsed, but as you looked closer, you realised it was designed to be open, the circular opening smooth. The blood moon shone brightly through it, making you almost gasp at the beauty of it. The far wall on the right also seemed collapsed at first, as it was almost completely gone. It took you a moment to realize that it was not this way due to time or disrepair, but by design. The space where a wall was meant to be faced a vast structure below, a stone circle that looked exactly as the alter, only bigger. But the most impressive thing by far, was the giant stone statue of a woman that towered as tall as the temple walls. The sight of it left you breathless and you couldn’t help but speak, despite yourself. “What is this place?” You asked under your breath. The woman turned to you then, her eyes taking in your expression.

“I didn’t lie to you when you asked me the first time around. It’s an old ruin, where centuries ago, people built a temple to an old god. Or, should I say a goddess.” She said, gesturing to the stone statue. “The goddess of chaos.” She explained with a glint in her eyes. “They worshipped her, crated this temple for her and waited for her arrival. Her coming was foretold. She is not born, but forged. The laws of magic would bend to her will. To her there would be no laws at all. She would break them all.” She explained, her voice raw and full of barely contained emotions. “Every coven hoped that one of their own would be the goddess of chaos. Every powerful girl was raised on that hope.” She said thoughtfully. “And witches were powerful back then. Their magic was strong, passed down by the generations, practiced and honed. It was an age of miracles. Those women could do extraordinary things.” She said with admiration. “What they didn’t expect was that a simple girl, with no family or coven, no training and no tutors would be the one.” The woman smiled sadly. “My mother and father died before my eyes.” She continued with a slight tremble in her voice. “I was a child. My brother and I hid under the bad and watched as they were murdered. We watched their blood seep into the floorboards, the pool growing so big, we had to crawl through it to get out. It was cold by then, thick and slippery. We were covered in it.” She spoke, her eyes filling with tears. She looked so broken-hearted, so sad, and so alone and something about that made your heart ache for her. “We were taken as servants by a lord, to show his kindness to the people. But he was a cruel man. He would beat us for every small mistake, would leave us hungry… Sometimes for days. He was especially cruel to Pietro. He would lash him until he passed out from the pain. He’d make me watch as he beat him and told me that if I looked away, he’d hurt him worse.” The memory seemed to take hold of the woman in front of you and a single tear slipped free from her eye.

“One day, after he’d returned from the capitol, he was seething. We tried to hide from him, we’d learned to avoid him in his foul moods, but he sought us out. Made sure we were brought to him. He already had his whip in his hands. He whipped Pietro again and again, telling him to endure it all, or he would turn his whip on me. When even the lasing didn’t make him happy, he threw it on the floor, grabbed Pietro by the neck and started squeezing. I tried to pry him away and Pietro fought with all his might, but he wouldn’t let go. He squeezed and squeezed, until I could see my brother’s face turn red, then purple. No matter how much a screamed for help, or how I tried to fight him off, he wouldn’t let go. I watched as the light from my brother’s eyes started to fade and something inside me broke. I screamed and I let loose whatever I was holding back inside me. I let it flood out of me and tear through our tormentor, his castle, his guards, his family and servants… When I could finally stop, only I and Pietro’s unconscious body remained.” She said, wiping away her teras. “We were lucky that a woman, Evanora Harkness was staying in town. When she saw what I did, she took us away. Brought us to this place. My brother had no gift for magic, so he lived in the nearby town, came to see me often… Eventually found a girl to settle down with, had children of his own. I remained at the temple. They helped me develop my power, helped me learn to control it. But they were fearful of me too. They couldn’t explain how I’d done what I did. And I couldn’t tell them, because I didn’t know. Their magic had rules and constraints, it was complicated in all its power. My magic was different. Needed no incantation, no runes, no herbs or special objects. It simply was.” She shrugged. “It was Agatha Harkness, Evanora’s daughter, that first realized who I was. Who I was meant to be.” She continued her story. “I could tell she was jealous, she was powerful and ambitious and she wanted to make the prophecy come true. She wanted that power all to herself. But she also admired that power, craved it. Her mother and the rest of the coven feared it. They were raised on the prophecy of the Scarlet witch, but when they saw what I could do, they grew fearful.” She said, shaking her head. “I should have realized it sooner. I should have seen the way they looked at me, when I kept breaking their precious rules of magic and grew more powerful… But I was in love.” She said with a bitter smile. “You have her name.” The woman said, turning to you for the first time. Her small, tentative smile was so beautiful, even in its sadness and you couldn’t help but feel for her.

“She was sweet, and beautiful and so kind. She was the only one willing to be my friend. The only one who didn’t resent me for my power, or judge me for coming from a family without magic. The only one who didn’t try to study me, or control me… I couldn’t help but fall in love. Then I couldn’t even begin to tell her of that love.” She spoke, looking in your eyes, but you could see she was picturing someone else in your place. Her tail was heartbreaking and it made your chest ache for her. You didn’t know why it hurt so badly to listen to her story, or why it affected you, but you couldn’t help but feel for her, grieve with her. “The discovery that I could wield chaos magic, that I was meant to take the mantle of the Scarlet witch was not accepted easily. Especially by the older generations. They clung to their rules, blanketed their prejudice in them. They feared me. I would not choose a coven, I could not be controlled, and I would not do as I was bid. That was a dangerous thing. But the younger generations longed for the promise of the prophecy. Agatha advocated for my ascendency more than anyone else. She gathered loyal followers to her side. The covens were divided. But I was also more powerful than any of them. Chaos magic had no match, it could not be stopped… This alter was my rightful throne. It was made for me and they had no choice but to give it to me.” She said, lifting her chin. “When I took my place, things seemed to settle. People were uneasy, the covens still clustered in groups and whispered, but they could not challenge me. Not without cause. For a while I ruled over the covens. It was a golden age for magic. And the prophecy promised more. I was meant to rule the world. Witches would no longer be hunted, would no longer fear for their lives and their families… I was meant to bring about a new age. But I didn’t care for such things. I didn’t want to rule the world. I only wanted you. You were the light of my day, the reason I smiled. You were my whole heart.” She said, her hand reaching out to touch your face, but the panic in your eyes at the gesture stopped her in her tracks and her eyes hardened once more, her hand dropping to her sides.

“You gave me my first kiss under the light of the full moon.” She continued her story. “You nestled at my side, as we watched the stars together. You smiled, as I made the flames in the torches dance for us and you held my hand when the world was too much to bear.” She said gently. “We made love right here, on my throne.” She said seductively, gesturing to the stone alter. “You tasted so sweet, my love. Made the most delectable sounds when I stretched you on my fingers.” She added, watching the way you blushed at her words. A reaction she seemed to enjoy greatly. “You were mine and I was yours. And your love elevated me higher. You calmed the storms inside me, tempered me… You were the reason for every mercy. You were the reason for my happiness.” “We were truly happy for a while. I made you my bride under the light of a blood moon, just like this one. I made you my queen.” She said with pride. “But I wanted more. I wanted us to have a family. Children of our own. And in my happiness, I made it true. You became pregnant. We were going to have twins. But the elders in the covens could not accept it. Making life out of nothing was simply not possible. An abomination in their eyes. And their fear of what else I might create drove them to plot my undoing.” She said bitterly. “They knew they could not kill me, that they would be opposed, so they crated a spell to entomb me here, in this temple. They drugged us, on the celebration of the winter solstice of all times. You, Agatha and all those loyal to us were taken away from me. They dragged the unconscious bodies from the great hall and into the cold air outside. Your belly was so swollen by then. You were almost due to give birth… I watched them slit your throat like a sacrifice and then used it to seal the temple, push it between worlds, so no one would ever be able to find it, or enter it.” She said as fresh tears spilled from her eyes. ”It took everything they had. I watched as the magic drained from them, leaving them nothing but empty shells… But they were willing to sacrifice it all just to keep me in here.” She snarled. “The entire time they thought I was fighting them. I was only fighting to keep you and the twins alive.” She said in a sob. “I watched the light drain from your eyes! I felt our boys struggle within you, their little souls crying. I could hear them calling out to me, begging me to save them. I felt your life essence fade and your soul slip from this world too and in desperation I did the only thing I could. I kept it from passing through. I made sure you would be born again. That you will come back to me.” She said as her eyes examined your face, trying to decern your thoughts. “And you did. I waited centuries in here. I was alone and grieving and quite mad I’m afraid. I roamed the halls, read every book, studied every theory, trying to break free from this prison. That’s how I discovered that on the nights, when the vail between worlds is thinner, I can push past their spell and into the world. The temple would once again appear, just where it was.” She said, like she was sharing a secret. “Agatha found out too. She kept coming to see me. She tried to free me from this place. When the covens found out, they punished her for it. Tried to burn her. Turns out she had a stronger will to live. She took their magic. But even with the combined power of her coven, she could not break the spell, only weaken it. But it’s been enough. I found my way out tonight and into your world. I found my way back to you, my love.” She said finally, stepping so close to you, you were almost touching.

It took you a long moment to gather your thoughts after her story. It was all too much. Too impossible. As much as you tried, you couldn’t wrap your head around it. “How…” You finally spoke, voice hoarse. “How do you know it’s me?” You asked. “I recognize your soul, my love. We are bound. You have a piece of my life essence within you. There could be no mistake.” “Is that why I’ve been seeing you in my dreams?” You asked tentatively. “Yes. I found you in the world of dreams. I’ve been trying to lead you to me all this time. But there was something standing in the way. There was always a barrier between us. I’m guessing your clever mother put a spell on you.” She said, tilting her head slightly. “But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. And we are finally together. Nothing will take you from me again.” The witch promised. The words were spoken without hesitation, without a shadow of a doubt and something about them sent a jolt of fear through you. Did this mean you could not leave? That you could never see your family again? Your few friends… Did she mean to keep you here forever? “Come.” The witch said, gesturing for you to follow her. “You must be tired.” “Where are we going?” You asked, as you followed behind her. “To our chambers of course.” She explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Ours?” The word struck you like a slap and you paused in the middle of the hallway. “Yes, my love. Ours. I’ve already prepared a bath for you.” She said, trying to remain unbothered by your reluctance. “A bath?” You looked at her stubbornly. “I don’t want a bath. I want to know what happened to my mother. I want to go home!” You allowed your voice to rise. As much as her story had affected you, you didn’t want to stay here with her. You didn’t know her. You didn’t want to live in isolation. “You are home.” The witch said suddenly, anger flashing across her features. “And your mother is fine. She’s already safely in town. Now come. I’ll explain everything once you are settled in our chambers.”

Her words were so infuriating, you could scream. She acted as if all of this was normal, as if because she told you a story you were meant to believe her, to trust her, to do as she asked… She acted as if you were this woman she once loved, but you had no memory of it. You knew nothing of the life she told you about. You didn’t love her, you didn’t even know her! “Perhaps that’s the problem.” The woman’s eyes slitted, her head tilting dangerously once more. “Perhaps if I help you remember, you will stop fighting all this.” She suggested. That’s when you remembered the voice you had heard in the back of your mind when you were in the woods, remembered the strange words she had used… That she could hear the voices of her children as they died… Could she read minds? Is that what she was doing right now? Had she been doing it all along? “Clever girl.” The witch spoke again, her mouth forming a smile that looked far from genuine. “Stay out of my head!” You shouted at her, but she was already stepping closer to you. It made you panic. You didn’t know what she would do, if she would hurt you and in your fear you did the only thing you could. You turned back and ran. “Where will you go, my love? There is no way out!” The witch shouted after you, her slow measured steps on the stone floor sending another jolt of fear through you. You ran till you reached the large chamber she had led you to, the candles there still burning, the torches framing the walls. There was no way out of this room, there was nowhere to hide, there was only the alter and the large statue that loomed over you threateningly. The resemblance with the woman after you was eery. Her story of prophecy daunting. Was all of this fate? Was it somehow pre-ordained? A story already written and told. A story where you were just a pawn, expected to play its part…

You refused to believe that. But what could you do? Face her? Fight her? With what? You didn’t know, but you had to try. So you made your way to the far end of the left wall and pressed yourself against it, using the statue and the shadows as covers, your breath ragged, your mind racing. The witch didn’t take long to walk into the light, her face unreadable as she scanned the room for your presence. “Come out, and we will do this the easy way.” The woman said threateningly. “Play this game, and we’ll have to do it the hard way. But one way or another, my love, I always win.” You said nothing. You weren’t foolish enough to respond to her and give away your hiding spot. You quieted down your thoughts, forcing yourself to remain calm as you watched her walk further into the room. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.” She called out, her eyes lazily moving over the few places in the room you could hide. “But if you want to play hide and seek… I guess I’ll just have to come find you, huh?” She moved passed the alter, briefly glancing behind it to check her suspicion that there was nothing there but dust, before moving to the right and towards the open space in the wall. There seemed to a niche near it, that you could only spot from your angle, but she must have known it was there. She probably knew every stone that made up this temple. When she reached the niche and confirmed that you were not there, she slowly started to move around the room, her walk casual, almost careless and as she neared you, you knew you wouldn’t be hidden from view for much longer. You had to make a choice. Stay and wait to be discovered, or try to make a run for it.

With a deep breath you darted from your spot and ran for the only doorway that led in and out of the room. You didn’t dare look back, didn’t think whether she would chase you, or simply let you wander aimlessly in the temple, until you finally gave up, you just had one goal. Make it through that door. But before you could even reach it, the door slammed shut and you were suspended in the air, hanging there mid-step, unable to move. “Caught you!” You said playfully, using her magic to float your body to the alter and lay you down on it. She took her time making her way to you, until she was towering above you. Her eyes burned through you as she took you in, struggling against her magic. It was almost adorable to her, that you thought it would do you any good. Before you could say a word, you saw her eyes turn red and the red tendrils of her magic swirled and grew around her. A crown appeared on her head, just as your mother had once described her and she looked equally regal and demonic in this state. “Now, my love… Let’s begin.”

#writing #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch

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stuiie · 5 days ago

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Don’t Cry No Tears Now, it’s Christmas, Baby

༊*·˚ Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Christmas is all about spending time with your favorite people, laughing, sharing stories, and enjoying the little moments that make the season special. But nothing could have prepared you for the kind of love that shows up in so many shapes and forms. From the warmth of a quiet hug to the sound of laughter echoing through the room, or even just sharing a mug of hot cocoa in the quiet snowfall, it’s the kind of magic that sneaks up on you and makes everything feel right.

Tags: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Special, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Established Relationship, Romance, Love, Domestic Fluff, Friendship, Set in the future The Color of You.

Words: 7,3K

Authors note: I’m a little stuck on the main story right now, and then I heard Snowman by Sia (if you haven't heard it I recommend listening to it), and I couldn’t resist writing this little Christmas piece. It’s set in the future of The Color of You, but I really hope you’ll enjoy it. Sorry for being a bit sappy, I’m just feeling a little blue these last couple of days.

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The air was thick with the warmth of Christmas, every breath infused with the scent of gingerbread and mulled wine. It wrapped around you like a soft blanket, tugging you deeper into the comforting magic of the season. From the doorway, you caught sight of Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen, moving together in a silent, intimate rhythm. They danced around one another—hands brushing, laughter quiet but alive—as they prepared the Christmas dinner. For a moment, you simply watched, your heart swelling with a mix of affection and awe. The scene was theirs, so tender it felt like a secret you didn’t want to disturb. Smiling softly, you turned away, slipping back into the living room.

Yelena’s cackling was the first thing you heard as you flopped down onto the couch beside her. On the TV, Home Alone played in full volume, and Yelena, unable to contain herself, flung a fistful of popcorn at the screen. You groaned dramatically at the mess, shooting her a look she ignored entirely. Muttering under your breath, you knelt to pick up the scattered popcorn, knowing full well that Wanda would have a fit if she saw it.

It had been Wanda, after all, who had greeted you earlier with almost childlike excitement. She had covered your eyes the moment you stepped through the door, chuckling warmly as she guided you inside. “No peeking,” she had teased, her voice bright and warm. When she finally let go, the gasp that escaped you was entirely genuine.

The Christmas tree stood in the center of the living room, towering and radiant. Its branches were adorned with gold and red ornaments that shimmered like jewels under the soft fairy lights. A ribbon of gold and red spiraled from top to bottom, its edges catching the light as if dusted with stardust. It wasn’t just a tree; it was magic.

You had drifted around the room in quiet awe, taking in every detail—the stockings hanging above the crackling fire, the wreaths laced with twinkling lights, the faint scent of pine that blended perfectly with the warmth of the room. It was all so beautiful it made your chest ache. And just as you reached out to touch one of the ornaments, Natasha’s arms had wrapped around you from behind.

“Mistletoe,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek before tilting your face toward hers for something softer. The warmth of her lips lingered, leaving you breathless. But before you could respond, laughter filled the air, and you turned to find Wanda holding the mistletoe high above you both, her smile so fond it made your heart flutter.

“My turn,” Wanda teased, stepping closer. She tilted your chin gently with her fingers and kissed you—soft at first, then deeper, as though drawn in by a force neither of you could fight. Her slender fingers slid through your hair, slow and tender, as her tongue teased yours, sparking something that made your knees weak. It left you dazed and full of wanting, your selfish heart already begging for more. Somewhere deep inside, you wondered if their love would ever feel less overwhelming—if you would ever feel worthy of it. But in that moment, surrounded by warmth and wonder, you didn’t care.

“Earth to idiot.”

Yelena’s shove snapped you out of the memory, and you tipped sideways into the cushions with an indignant noise. You shot her a glare, but she only grinned wickedly, entirely unapologetic.

“Come on,” she said, tugging at your arm as she stood. “We’re going out. Fresh air will do you good.”

“Yelena—”

“No arguing!” she called, already halfway across the room. “Nat, Wanda! We’re heading out for a bit!”

You hesitated only a moment before following her out. The air was crisp and bit at your cheeks, the kind of cold that left you feeling wide awake and alive. A soft hush had settled over the neighborhood, the quiet broken only by the crunch of snow beneath your boots. The streets were blanketed in white, the snow glimmering faintly under the glow of streetlamps.

For a while, neither of you spoke as you walked toward the park. The world felt impossibly still, as if you had stepped into a snow globe—a perfect, fleeting moment suspended in time. You let out a breath, watching it mist in the cold air, and glanced at Yelena, who walked with her hands shoved in her pockets, a content smile tugging at her lips.

Yelena grasped your hand and tugged you toward the small market, her excitement spilling out in a constant stream of chatter. She rambled about everything—the crafts she wanted to see, the ridiculous sweater someone was wearing, and her plans to get the best hot chocolate in the market. Her energy was infectious, and as you listened, your chest filled with a familiar warmth. You stole a glance at her rosy cheeks, glowing from the cold, and at the way the twinkling market lights reflected in her bright, carefree eyes.

The line for hot chocolate was long, but Yelena didn’t stop talking, her enthusiasm like a balm against the chill of the late afternoon. You felt yourself smiling, a rare kind of peace blooming in your chest as you stood there with her, your boots crunching in the snow. Finally, with steaming paper cups filled with hot chocolate in hand, the two of you began wandering through the market, weaving between clusters of people.

The stalls were filled with handmade crafts: delicate wooden carvings, candles with cinnamon scents, and beautifully knitted scarves you admired but didn’t dare touch. Yelena pointed out the more peculiar items—like a hat that resembled a chicken—and cracked jokes that had you doubling over in laughter. Every so often, the scent of roasting chestnuts or spiced pastries would curl through the air, making the moment feel all the more magical.

Eventually, you found yourselves on the bridge, its old stone dusted with snow and worn smooth by years of stories. You slowed to a stop, instinctively lingering there. It was just a bridge, but to you, it had become something more. So much had happened here—quiet talks, shared tears, and promises whispered into the night. It was a place where time felt a little less fleeting.

You clutched your hot chocolate and watched families gathered below, their small children tossing bread crumbs to eager ducks. Their laughter carried up to you, soft and bright against the crisp evening air. A pang of nostalgia washed over you, pulling you back to when you and Yelena were that small—when the world felt bigger, and magic was something you never questioned. It wasn’t that life wasn’t magical now; it was just... different. Softer, quieter.

Yelena bumped your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts. Without hesitation, you leaned into her, resting your head against her shoulder. “Thank you for this,” you murmured, the words barely escaping in the misty cold.

Yelena didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. Instead, she shifted ever so slightly so that her shoulder fit more comfortably beneath your head, a silent reassurance that you were always enough for her, just as she was for you.

On the way back, the silence was easy and familiar, broken only by the sound of your boots crunching in the snow. As you reached an open patch of untouched white, Yelena grinned and dropped to the ground, flailing her arms and legs to make a snow angel.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, but before long, you joined her, the two of you lying side by side, laughing into the sky as snowflakes danced down to kiss your cheeks.

Then, just as you stood up, brushing snow from your coat, Yelena’s smirk deepened. “Uh-oh,” she said, examining the imprint you left behind. “Pretty sure you made that snow angel in dog poop.”

“What?!” Your heart leapt in panic as you scrambled to inspect the snow beneath you.

It took only a second to realize Yelena’s shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter, her lips pressed tightly together to stop herself from bursting. “You should’ve seen your face!”

“Yelena!” you shouted, a mix of relief and outrage bubbling up as you scooped a handful of snow. She bolted with a laugh, her boots kicking up little puffs of white as you chased after her, pelting her with snowballs.

By the time you reached the house, both of you were breathless, your cheeks flushed, your coats dusted in snow. Yelena collapsed on the steps, breathless with laughter, and you couldn’t help but grin as you flopped down beside her. The stars above seemed to twinkle in time with your joy, and as you sat there together, you knew—this moment, as simple and silly as it was, would linger in your heart for years to come.

When you finally stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloped you like a well-worn blanket, but it was immediately clear that the guests had arrived. The soft hum of chatter and the faint clinking of glasses carried from the living room, but your attention was drawn to Wanda, who stood in the entryway, arms crossed and an amused yet stern look on her face. Her gaze swept over you and Yelena, taking in your snow-dusted coats, flushed cheeks, and tousled hair. She shook her head fondly, though the sharp arch of her brow told you she wasn’t entirely pleased.

You gave her your best sheepish smile, cheeks still pink, but she didn’t budge. Before you could say a word, Natasha appeared around the corner, a wide grin spreading across her face as she took in the sight of the two of you. “Well, well, look at this pair of snow gremlins,” she teased, her tone dripping with mockery.

Yelena grumbled and started wrestling with her jacket, but Natasha, with the grin of someone who thrived on chaos, moved to block her path. “Here, let me help you,” Natasha cooed innocently, tugging at Yelena’s sleeves with just enough force to turn it into a proper struggle.

“Nat, stop,” Yelena growled through gritted teeth, her arms halfway out of the coat as Natasha cackled, unhelpful as ever. The two of them twisted and stumbled around the entryway like overgrown children, Yelena’s curses mixing with Natasha’s gleeful laughter. You bit your lip, determined not to laugh, as you fought to remove your own jacket, gloves, and hat without getting caught in the chaos.

Natasha’s teasing escalated, tugging Yelena this way and that until—

“Natasha,” Wanda’s voice rang out, cool and sharp enough to cut through the madness.

Natasha immediately let go, her smirk still firmly in place, while Yelena staggered backward, cursing in Russian as she finally shrugged off the jacket and sent Natasha a sharp glare. With all the grace of someone who didn’t know when to quit, Yelena flipped her off, a wild scowl on her face, which only made Natasha grin wider.

You couldn’t help it—you broke. A burst of laughter escaped you, loud and bright, filling the space like sunlight. Wanda turned her gaze on you then, unimpressed and unamused, though there was something in her eyes that betrayed her fondness.

“Sorry,” you managed between giggles, stepping closer to her. To soften the blow, you leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “Forgive me?” you whispered, your breath brushing against her skin.

She sighed, her expression softening just a little as her arms fell to her sides. “Go get ready before I change my mind,” she muttered, her voice half affectionate, half exasperated.

“Will do,” you chirped, stealing one last glance at Natasha and Yelena—who were still bickering under their breath—before heading upstairs.

In Yelena’s room, the world seemed quieter, the sounds of the house fading behind the closed door. You peeled off your snow-damp clothes, shaking your head as Yelena flopped dramatically onto the bed with a satisfied sigh.

“You’re insufferable,” you teased, earning only a shrug in response.

“I’m charming, and you know it.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you rifled through the closet for something to wear. Yelena eventually sat up, humming along to the Christmas songs now streaming softly from the speaker. She watched you thoughtfully for a moment before standing. “Sit,” she commanded, gesturing to the chair in front of the vanity.

“What? Why?”

“Because you need to look cute, and I’m in the mood to help,” she replied, digging through your makeup bag.

You rolled your eyes but complied, settling into the chair as Yelena set to work. It wasn’t long before she was singing along to the Christmas music, her voice louder and more off-key than necessary. You couldn’t help but smile as she swayed to the beat, brushing powder across your cheeks with dramatic flair.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” you said, raising a brow as she grinned at her reflection in the mirror.

“Obviously. You’re like my little art project.”

Despite her teasing, Yelena’s touch was careful and gentle as she worked. You watched her in the mirror, your heart swelling as you took in her playful expression, the flush in her cheeks from earlier, and the way she still hummed along as though she hadn’t a care in the world.

When she finally stepped back, admiring her work, she beamed. “Perfect. You’re a masterpiece.”

You laughed softly, meeting her eyes in the reflection. “Thanks, Lena. For everything.”

She rolled her eyes as though it was no big deal, but her grin softened into something quieter, more genuine. “Anytime,” she said, nudging your shoulder. “Now let’s go before Natasha eats all the good food.”

Together, you stood, the warmth of the moment lingering between you as the music played on.

When you joined everyone downstairs, the hum of laughter and conversation welcomed you like a favorite song. The room was alive with a glow that went beyond the soft lights and garlands—it was the kind of warmth that came from family, chosen or otherwise.

Val was the first to spot you, her face lighting up as she strode over. She pulled you into a firm side hug, dropping a soft kiss to the crown of your head in that way only she could—casual, yet grounding. “About time,” she teased gently before turning to Yelena. She hugged her tightly, ruffling Yelena’s hair like an older sibling might, earning a dramatic groan of protest.

As you stepped further into the room, your gaze fell on Agatha and Rio lingering by the window. Agatha, always sharp-tongued and full of sarcasm, was mid eye-roll at something her wife had said. Rio, unbothered and clearly amused, slipped an arm around Agatha’s waist and pulled her close. For a moment, Agatha’s familiar air of indifference cracked, softening as she allowed Rio to press a tender kiss to her lips. It was intimate and unguarded in a way that made you look away with a faint smile, as though you’d stumbled on something private yet precious.

Your eyes scanned the room and landed on Pepper, who stood across the way chatting with Maria. They both raised their glasses in your direction in greeting, their smiles easy and genuine. You nodded back with a wave, your heart swelling at the sight of so many people you cared about all gathered here.

Feeling the pull of a familiar presence, you slid over to Natasha, who was standing near the dining table with a glass of wine in hand. You hugged her side, and she turned to you with a wide smile that lit up her face. Without hesitation, she tugged you closer, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“There you are,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of fond relief.

“Here I am,” you replied with a grin, feeling a little more at home with her arms around you.

As dinner was served, the room buzzed with warm chatter and the clinking of glasses. You found yourself seated between the Romanoff sisters, and the sense of belonging was enough to bring a lump to your throat if you let it.

Yelena nudged you playfully with her elbow as she stole a roll from your plate, while Natasha gave her a look that could have frozen fire. “Really?” Natasha drawled, but you couldn’t miss the glimmer of affection in her eyes.

“What?” Yelena grinned innocently, chewing shamelessly as she kicked her boots out under the table.

You just laughed, shaking your head as you broke off a piece of bread for yourself. Around you, the air was alive with a harmony of voices—Val joking with Pepper, Agatha and Rio trading sly remarks, Maria’s laugh ringing out above the rest, and Wanda’s voice mingling with it all like a melody you never tired of hearing.

The table was a sea of warmth and color: flickering candles reflected in wine glasses, bowls of roasted vegetables passed from hand to hand, and the occasional clang of utensils as someone reached too enthusiastically for a dish. It was noisy, imperfect, and absolutely perfect.

For a while, you just let yourself soak it all in—the sight of Natasha leaning in to tease Yelena, the sound of Agatha’s exaggerated scoff, and the way Wanda’s laughter curved through the air like a ribbon of light. This was what you had always longed for, though you hadn’t known it back then: a place to call home, and people who made you feel as though you were enough just by being there.

Wanda caught your gaze from across the table then, her eyes soft and searching. She smiled—small, almost private—and you returned it, your chest blooming with a quiet kind of joy.

After dinner, everyone chipped in to help with the dishes, laughter and conversation filling the kitchen as plates were passed and glasses were rinsed. Yelena, predictably, turned drying the dishes into a contest, boasting that she could dry faster than anyone else, only to drop a fork mid-spin and claim she was “letting you all win.” Natasha rolled her eyes, but her smirk betrayed her amusement, while Val and Maria exchanged knowing glances as though long accustomed to Yelena’s antics.

Once the kitchen was back in order, the group moved to the living room. The Christmas tree glowed softly, the twinkling lights throwing a warm shimmer over the room. The familiar sounds of Christmas music drifted from the speaker, low enough to leave space for the soft hum of chatter and clinking glasses.

Wanda, who had claimed a cozy corner of the sofa, caught your gaze and beckoned you over with a small wave of her hand. You couldn’t help but smile as you walked toward her, wine glass in hand, and let yourself settle against her. Her arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer as you leaned back into her.

Her fingers began combing lazily through your hair, a soothing motion that had you melting into her touch. “You’ll never believe it,” she murmured softly, her voice a gentle hum above the music. “I’ve been asked to create a sculpture for the new hotel downtown—the one opening next spring.”

You tilted your head slightly to look at her, your lips parting in awe. “Wanda, that’s incredible.”

The corner of her mouth tugged upward, though she tried to appear nonchalant. “It’s nothing too extravagant, just something to sit in the lobby. Modern but striking, they said.”

“It’s everything,” you said firmly, your heart swelling with pride. “I don’t know why you’re acting like it’s just another day. That’s amazing. You deserve it.”

Wanda’s hand stilled for a moment before resuming its gentle rhythm, her smile softening into something that reached her eyes. “You always say the right things, you know that?”

“I mean them,” you replied quietly, squeezing her arm lightly before resting your head back on her shoulder.

As the night wore on, the room settled into a peaceful rhythm. Wanda began humming softly along to the Christmas songs, her voice a low, melodic hum that matched the gentle sway of her arms as she held you. You felt the rise and fall of her breath, the quiet hum of contentment that radiated from her, and it wrapped around you like the warmth of a fire on a cold night.

On the other side of the couch, Natasha and Val had taken up their usual banter, their voices playful as they bickered over whose turn it was to top up the wine. Val gestured wildly, her face dramatic, while Natasha’s smirk only grew sharper as she leaned back, clearly enjoying the game.

Wanda’s toe suddenly nudged Natasha’s leg, drawing her attention. Natasha paused mid-sentence, looking over with a raised brow and a teasing smile. But when her gaze shifted to the two of you—Wanda holding you close, her fingers combing through your hair—her expression softened.

Wanda met Natasha’s gaze and gave her a small, knowing nod before glancing toward the tree. Natasha’s eyes brightened instantly, and her grin returned full force. She clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Alright, people!” Natasha announced, her voice carrying over the chatter. “It’s time to swap gifts before Yelena falls asleep and pretends she doesn’t want any.”

“Hey!” Yelena piped up from where she sat sprawled on the rug, halfway through a gingerbread cookie. “That only happened once!”

“Three times,” Natasha corrected, earning a glare and a muttered insult in Russian.

Around the room, people began shifting, leaning forward to grab bags and boxes, and the chatter rose again, filled with excited murmurs and teasing jabs. You couldn’t help but smile as you sat up slightly, Wanda’s arms lingering around you for just a moment longer before she let go.

You thought you knew what to expect as everyone handed over their gifts with wide smiles and laughter that curled warmly around the room. But as the wrapping paper began to tear and presents were unveiled, you realized you hadn’t truly prepared for the chaos that would follow.

It began when Agatha unwrapped her gift with all the elegance of a queen—only to pull out a strap without the faintest shred of shame. “Well, would you look at that,” she purred, twirling the harness casually around her fingers as though it were a party favor.

“Agatha!” Wanda groaned, shaking her head with an amused exasperation.

Across the room, Rio grinned, unrepentant and clearly proud of herself. “Don’t act surprised. You know she’s going to wear it.”

Agatha shot Rio a sly look, her voice dripping with mock affection. “You spoil me, darling.”

The exchange was topped off with Val, who leaned back on the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, looking pleased as ever. “Told you it would suit her.”

The laughter bubbled louder when Rio, unwrapping her gift, pulled a whip from its sleek box. She held it up for all to see, the leather swaying in her grip like a threat—an elegant threat.

“Practical and pretty,” Agatha echoed wryly while Val mouthed, you’re welcome, in Agatha's direction making it clear who was responsible for the gift, earning a grimace from Yelena.

Wanda’s chuckle vibrated against your back where she sat with you tucked comfortably between her legs, her arms draped loosely around your shoulders. Her laughter, rich and amused, sent warmth curling through your chest.

Then Yelena, sprawled on the floor, groaned dramatically, flopping onto her back as though the whip alone had sent her into an early grave. “Why are you all like this? This is Christmas, not… not—”

“Not whatever you think it is?” Val quipped, smirking as Yelena shot her a glare.

“Exactly.”

Before Yelena could say anything else, Maria and Pepper began unwrapping their presents, the room’s attention shifting. You tried to maintain your composure as Maria held up a piece of crimson lingerie with an appreciative smirk, Pepper laughing beside her as she showed off the delicate necklace she'd received.

“Balance,” Maria teased, holding up the jewelry and the fabric in each hand.

“Very elegant balance,” Pepper added with a wink, her smile easy and unbothered.

Then it was Val’s turn. She unwrapped her present eagerly, only for her expression to freeze mid-smirk. A moment later, the small box went sailing across the room, hitting Natasha squarely in the shoulder with an audible thud.

“What the hell, Romanoff?” Val barked, but Natasha was already laughing, one hand rubbing her shoulder.

Your gaze dropped to the floor, where the box of Viagra now lay. Your eyes widened in shock before a loud, unapologetic laugh burst from you, echoing Wanda’s quiet snickering behind you.

“That’s for future Val,” Natasha quipped with a grin.

“Future Val is going to kick your ass,” Val shot back, still glaring, though you could see the corner of her mouth twitching upward.

“Please stop,” Yelena groaned again, burying her face in her hands. “I can’t take any more of this.”

“Then let’s move on,” Natasha announced smugly, picking up a box and tossing it to Yelena.

Yelena looked almost relieved as she ripped off the wrapping, and the moment she spotted what was inside, her face lit up. It was the bomber jacket she’d been not-so-secretly wanting. “No way!” she gasped, her grin stretching from ear to ear. She immediately launched herself at Natasha, pulling her into a hug before pushing you unceremoniously aside to get to Wanda.

“Move,” Yelena ordered, practically shoving you with her elbow.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, glaring at her dramatic display as you settled back into your spot between Wanda’s legs.

“Let her have this moment,” Wanda murmured, brushing her lips against the top of your head.

Yelena dropped back onto the floor and grabbed the final box—yours. You held your breath as she tore the paper with her usual reckless enthusiasm, but her hands stilled when the gift revealed itself.

Her expression softened instantly, and for a beat, the room seemed to quiet as she ran her fingers gently along the edges of the book. She opened it carefully, her movements uncharacteristically delicate. Inside were the photos you’d spent so long collecting and arranging—snapshots of your childhood together. Days of scraped knees, shared birthdays, and mischievous grins frozen in time.

Yelena’s lips parted slightly, her gaze fixed on a photo of the two of you, tangled in a heap of blankets on the couch when you were small. Her thumb brushed the corner of the page, and you watched as a quiet emotion passed over her features—something soft, something undeniably tender.

She looked up then, her green eyes shining with something deeper than words could express. “You made this?”

You nodded, your voice suddenly caught in your throat. “Yeah... I, uh, thought you’d like it.”

Yelena didn’t say anything. She just reached forward and pulled you into a hug—gentler this time, no shoving or teasing. It was the kind of hug that said everything she couldn’t put into words.

“Thank you,” she whispered against your shoulder, her voice quiet and sincere.

You smiled softly as you squeezed her back, Wanda’s hand brushing comfortingly over your arm from where she sat behind you.

As the night settled deeper into stillness, you made yourself more comfortable against Wanda, her arms wrapping around you like a second blanket. The couch seemed softer with her behind you, her warmth radiating through the room like a quiet fire. Her fingers had resumed their slow, absentminded path through your hair, each touch sending a calming wave through you.

You sighed contentedly, stealing a glance at Natasha, who sat stretched out in the armchair across the room. Her glass of wine dangled lazily from her fingers, the sharpness of her usual demeanor softened by the glow of the Christmas lights. Your heart warmed as you thought about earlier that morning when you’d exchanged gifts in private.

The painting Wanda had made for you—a breathtaking swirl of color that somehow captured both serenity and fire—already hung above the bed. The fact that she had spent hours, days even, creating something so perfect for you left you speechless. Wanda had insisted it wasn’t a big deal, brushing her fingers over your cheek when she gave it to you, but you knew better. That painting was a piece of her soul, and now it was yours to keep.

Natasha, in her typical Natasha way, had managed to surprise both of you with an upcoming getaway. “Just the three of us this time,” she had said firmly, pointing a finger at you as Wanda watched with amused affection. “Swear it. No ‘oops, I invited everyone’ like last time.”

You had smiled shyly, your cheeks warm under her gaze. “I promise,” you’d murmured, and the rare smile Natasha gave you in return had felt like the sun breaking through clouds.

Your own gifts had been simpler but no less heartfelt—handmade books similar to the one you gifted Yelena, pieced together with love and care. The pages were filled with photos and memories of the moments you shared with them, every snapshot holding a story: lazy Sunday mornings, playful smirks exchanged across rooms, quiet evenings spent in soft lamplight. For Wanda, you’d left empty pages, spaces for her to fill with her drawings. When she’d flipped through the book earlier, her fingers tracing the pages, her eyes had shimmered with unshed tears.

“This…” Wanda had whispered, pausing as though the words wouldn’t come. She looked at you then, her expression raw and tender. “This is beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

The way she had held you in that moment—like you were something precious and fragile—made your chest ache in the best possible way. You’d leaned into her embrace, letting the weight of her love settle around you, filling every corner of your heart.

Now, as the night moved along, the house gradually grew quieter. Maria, Pepper, and Val were the first to leave, their goodbyes punctuated with tired laughter and lingering hugs. Pepper promised to call in the morning, while Maria winked and whispered something to Val that made her chuckle as they stepped out into the cold night air.

Not long after, Agatha and Rio followed. Agatha, despite her perpetual sarcasm, hugged Wanda with genuine warmth before leaving. “You’re lucky I like you,” she teased, earning a dry laugh from Wanda as Rio waved at you all over her shoulder.

With their departure, the house grew quieter still, leaving only the four of you: Natasha, Wanda, Yelena, and you. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, the Christmas tree casting a golden glow across the room. The music had shifted to something softer, a slow instrumental rendition of an old carol that carried through the space like a whisper.

Yelena lay sprawled on the floor near the tree, her legs propped up on the edge of the couch as she absentmindedly hummed along to the music. Natasha sat nearby, a rare contentment softening her sharp features as she sipped the last of her wine.

Wanda shifted slightly beneath you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as she continued running her fingers through your hair. “You tired, Sweetie?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, though your eyelids were starting to feel heavy. “Not yet.”

Natasha caught Wanda’s eye and smirked knowingly. “She’s lying.”

“I’m resting,” you protested, though your voice lacked any conviction.

Yelena snorted from her spot on the floor, reaching out to spin a forgotten ornament dangling near her fingers. “She’s probably dreaming about the dog-poop snow angel.”

You groaned, hiding your face against Wanda’s shoulder as laughter rippled through the room. Natasha leaned back in her chair, with a fond smile.

The teasing faded after a while, leaving behind a softer, gentler quiet. The four of you sat together, wrapped in the glow of the lights and the gentle hum of the music, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled with words. Natasha and Yelena bickered softly about something inconsequential, but their voices were low and affectionate, as though neither wanted to disturb the peace of the room.

Wanda’s arms tightened subtly around you, and you tilted your head to look up at her. Her gaze was soft as she met yours, her green eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. “Merry Christmas,” she murmured.

Your heart swelled as you smiled up at her. “Merry Christmas, Wanda.”

Natasha wandered over to where you and Wanda were nestled together on the couch, her playful smirk giving you only a second’s warning before she draped herself over both of you. “Natasha!” Wanda protested as the redhead covered you with her body, pinning you between them like a human blanket.

Natasha grinned wickedly. “What? You looked too cozy.”

Before you could respond, she blew raspberries against your neck, the unexpected sensation making you squirm and erupt into laughter. Wanda released an exasperated huff beneath you, her hands pushing halfheartedly against Natasha’s side.

“Do you mind?” Wanda muttered, though the fondness in her tone gave her away.

Natasha only leaned closer, pressing you down further as you giggled breathlessly, your cheeks aching from smiling. “I’m very comfortable, actually,” Natasha teased, her voice muffled as she nuzzled against your shoulder.

With the laughter still lingering on your lips, Natasha shifted and pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips, slow and tender, a stark contrast to her earlier antics. Your eyes fluttered closed, the playful atmosphere melting away for just a moment. But then Wanda’s voice broke through, dry and unimpressed.

“Please, Nat. I’d like to keep breathing.”

Natasha pulled back with a low chuckle, finally rolling off you and stretching out across the floor. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you live—for now.”

You laughed as you slid off the couch, joining Natasha and sprawling out beside Yelena on the carpet. You mimicked her pose perfectly, arms spread out and legs lazily crossed at the ankles.

Yelena turned her head, her expression softening as she caught your gaze. “You’re such a copycat,” she murmured playfully, a smile tugging at her lips.

“And you love it,” you teased back, earning a small laugh as you both settled into a quiet moment. The music played softly in the background, and you hummed along to the familiar tune.

Then, as the next song began you noticed Yelena’s gaze shift upward. Her head tilted slightly, and you followed her line of sight to where Wanda had risen from the couch. Without a word, Wanda crossed the room, her bare feet silent against the rug, and tugged Natasha’s hand, pulling her up with ease.

“What’s this?” you whispered, quirking an eyebrow at Yelena.

She groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes. “They do this every year,” she muttered, though there was no real annoyance in her tone—only that sibling fondness that comes with knowing someone too well.

“Do what?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

“Just watch,” Yelena said, her voice resigned but soft.

You turned back just in time to see Wanda lead Natasha further toward the Christmas tree. Natasha grumbled something under her breath, though she didn’t resist. A faint smile tugged at her lips, betraying her enjoyment as Wanda spun her around, their fingers lacing together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The golden lights from the tree cast a soft glow over them, their silhouettes swaying gently as Wanda pulled Natasha closer. The music carried them, a melody drifting through the air, and you realized that Wanda wasn’t just pulling Natasha into a dance—this was something that was theirs.

“Don’t cry, snowman, not in front of me, Who’ll catch your tears if you can’t catch me, darling? If you can’t catch me, darling…”

Wanda’s voice was quiet, a tender murmur at first, as though she was singing just for Natasha. Her fingers intertwined with Natasha’s, pulling her closer as they swayed. Natasha’s body followed hers without hesitation—her movements were unhurried, almost careful, as if she, too, understood the weight of this moment.

From your place on the floor, you stilled completely, unable to take your eyes off them. Beside you, even Yelena’s snarky remarks died in her throat.

“Don’t cry, snowman, don’t leave me this way, A puddle of water can’t hold me close, baby…”

Wanda’s voice grew steadier now, the words flowing like silk through the quiet. You felt something shift in the air, the melody curling softly around your chest and tugging at something deep inside you. It wasn’t just a song—it was a promise, a memory, a plea wrapped in lyrics and held between the two women who had always known how to find one another.

Natasha let out a soft exhale, something in her sharp edges melting away as Wanda pulled her in closer, spinning her under the warm glow of the tree. You could see it in the way Natasha looked at her—how her usual guardedness softened into something pure and unspoken.

Wanda sang on, her voice laced with a quiet fragility:

“I want you to know that I’m never leaving, ‘Cause I’m Mrs. Snow, till death we’ll be freezing…”

The words struck a chord in you, reverberating with a meaning you couldn’t ignore. Never leaving. Your throat tightened as you realized what they were really saying—what Wanda was saying. It wasn’t just for Natasha; it was for all of you. A reassurance, a vow spoken through the music. A reminder of the moments lost and the ones still waiting to be lived.

“Yeah, you are my home, my home for all seasons, So come on, let’s go.”

Wanda’s voice broke just slightly on the last word, a subtle tremor that lingered in the air, but Natasha didn’t let her falter. With a small, teasing smile, she spun Wanda around this time—carefully, almost reverently—before pulling her back into her arms. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. They just stood there, forehead to forehead, their silhouettes bathed in the tree’s gentle light.

You swallowed hard, blinking away the prickling in your eyes as you looked away, unable to hold the sight for too long. It was beautiful in the way things often are when they hold too much truth.

Wanda’s voice resumed, even softer now, like a whisper against Natasha’s shoulder:

“Let’s go below zero and hide from the sun, I’ll love you forever where we’ll have some fun, Yes, let’s hit the North Pole and live happily, Please don’t cry no tears now, it’s Christmas, baby…”

The final words lingered, stretching out into the quiet like a fragile thread. It wasn’t lost on you how deeply they echoed into the space between you all—how they whispered of a time when the world hadn’t felt this whole.

Beside you, Yelena turned her head slightly, catching your gaze with a rare look of understanding that she didn’t need to put into words. You forced a small smile in response before looking back at Wanda and Natasha.

Natasha finally spoke, her voice low and rough, carrying a weight that didn’t quite match her usual teasing bravado. “We might not have to dance to this song anymore,” she murmured, her gaze flickering over to you where you laid on the floor with Yelena.

Wanda paused, her smile softening as she followed Natasha’s gaze, her eyes lingering on you for a long, quiet moment. The warmth in her expression deepened, something unspoken passing between the three of you that left your chest aching in the most beautiful way.

When Wanda turned back to Natasha, she pulled her closer, resting her forehead against hers. “No,” Wanda whispered, her voice tender and full of quiet certainty. “We don’t.”

Natasha’s lips twitched into a small, vulnerable smile, just as Wanda tilted her head and kissed her softly—slow, tenderly, and filled with years of love.

“I love you,” Wanda murmured against her lips, her voice carrying the weight of every unspoken promise.

Natasha let out a small, almost breathless laugh, as though the words had knocked something loose in her. “I love you too, Moya lyubov,” she replied, her tone equally soft, but steady as stone.

The two of them stayed there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, as if the world outside had ceased to exist. When Wanda returned to the couch you padded over and slid down between her legs again, pressing back into Wanda’s front. She didn’t say anything, but her fingers brushed gently through your hair, anchoring you to her in that quiet way she always did.

The music shifted again, but no one seemed ready to break the spell. Natasha reclaimed her seat near Yelena, and you could hear them exchanging soft words, though their voices barely registered. The fire crackled faintly in the background, the light of the flames dancing on the walls.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Wanda murmured quietly, her voice barely above a whisper against your temple.

You nodded, though your chest still ached with unspoken words. “Yeah,” you said softly, turning just enough to look up at her. “I’m more than okay.”

Wanda pressed her lips to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as if to confirm you were really here—that all of you were. “Good,” she whispered.

Across the room, Natasha sat quietly for a while, her gaze flickering between the fire, Yelena—now dozing peacefully on the floor—and the two of you curled up on the couch. She swirled her glass absently, her expression thoughtful, as though she were weighing whether or not to break the peaceful silence.

Eventually, she stood with a stretch and wandered over, her footsteps soft against the rug. Without saying a word, she sank onto the couch beside Wanda, nudging your legs lightly to make room.

“Move over, you two,” Natasha murmured, her voice low but teasing as she settled in.

Wanda huffed in mock protest but shifted slightly, pulling you closer into her arms to make space. Natasha, for all her sharp edges, leaned back against the cushions with a soft sigh, her shoulder brushing against Wanda’s. For a moment, she looked at you both, something unreadable in her gaze before it softened into something far more familiar—home.

“You couldn’t resist, huh?” you teased, lifting your head just enough to look at her.

Natasha quirked a brow, her lips twitching into a small smile. “You’d miss me if I didn’t, my little duckling.”

You didn’t argue, because she was right.

Without another word, Natasha draped an arm casually over the back of the couch, her fingers grazing the tips of Wanda’s hair. Wanda let out a contented hum, leaning her head briefly against Natasha’s shoulder before resuming her soft strokes through your hair.

The three of you sat in companionable silence, the fire crackling softly in the hearth and the faint sounds of Christmas music still lingering in the background. Yelena let out a sleepy snore from her spot on the floor, which made Natasha shake her head fondly.

As you rested against Wanda, Natasha’s presence now beside you, the feeling settled deeper in your chest—this was everything. After everything you had been through, every moment lost and every piece stitched back together, this was where you belonged. You were home.

Wanda shifted slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Natasha mirrored the motion moments later, dropping a soft kiss against your temple, the warmth of their love wrapped around you, a tear slipped down your cheek. Natasha’s thumb caught it as it slipped down your cheek as she caressed your skin tenderly.

Wanda’s hum started again, low and soft, her voice carrying over the quiet of the room as she repeated the final words, almost like a lullaby:

“Please don’t cry no tears now, it’s Christmas, baby…”

And you didn’t.

#the color of you #one shot for the color of you #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #one shot #established relationship #christmas one shot #I'm stuck so I wrote this instead #lesbian fanfiction #lesbian poly

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themidnightcrimson · 2 years ago

Text

palette ࿏ wm

summary: in which your mother commissions a renowned painter to paint your portrait.

words: 6.0K

warnings: top!wanda, fem!reader, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), lots of tense gay ogling, so much sexual tension, minor use of paint in sex, very victorian era girlie themed, mentions of men (scary!)

this post is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

Your mother was being incredulous about the situation. Time and time again, you tried to convince her that you were not the marrying type, that she need not go to her extreme ends to find you a husband. Whether it was showing you off like show cattle at parties, offering to pay men to marry you with money or titles, or throwing you at the nearest man around, which one time ended up being the innocent post boy, she was relentless in marrying you off.

Any time a man did take an interest in you, which was not unreasonable due to your fair beauty and youth, you hated and despised him and dwindled down his integrity until he ran away like a dog clutching the remnants of his masculinity between his legs. Relief was momentary, for once you ran one off, she only brought around another.

Her new tactic that she invented in that stubborn little head of hers was to commission a renowned painter to paint your portrait to be hung in the halls of your wealthy home. With all the parties and dinners she hosted so desperately often to cling to her respected name in society, she thought that surely a young man would see the portrait of her jeweled and beautiful daughter and demand to own her. Of course, your mother demanded the best, so she hired the infamous Maximoff artist to paint your portrait.

“He will be here any minute,” she whispered behind you as she violently tightened the strings of your corset until you felt your stomach was tucked inside your ribcage.

Taking a shallow breath, the deepest one you could breathe, you looked down at the emerald green dress. It was a beautiful dress, sure. Gold lace crawled over the green corset at your waist, and the green parted at a low point in your bosom, opening wide to reveal your entire chest, metal wires ensuring that your breasts were pushed up and on full display. One thing about your mother was that she hid no tricks. You were her trick, and you were sure she would have you painted naked like a whore if it meant having a son-in-law and grandchildren.

“Mother,” you gasped when she tightened the corset even further, struggling to breathe. “Do you not expect a common man to want a wife who breathes?”

“Hush,” she snapped as she tied off the strings at your back. The dress’s intricate under-weavings made sure that your hips looked wider than your own intellect. Most of the time, you liked to prance around in delicate underdresses in which you could breathe and move freely. This dress, with its constricting corset and heavy hips and layers upon layers of white underskirts, made you feel like you were standing with your head in a noose.

“If he’s such an excellent painter, can’t he just use his own imagination about what I’m wearing? That’s what most men do in their heads, anyway.”

“Mr. Maximoff is the most respected artist in the country,” she breathed, circling you to look you once over. Her hands went to the breast of the corset, trying to lower it down even more.

“Mother!” you shrieked, widening your eyes at her and tugging the fabric back up. “Why are you trying to make me look like a whore in front of who you say is the most respected artist in the country?!”

“He’s Sokovian,” she argued. “They’re exotic.”

You rolled your eyes at her bitter distaste for foreigners, and if you could breathe, you would have let the venomous words roll off your tongue.

“Besides, even if he doesn’t paint you as a doable wife, perhaps he would graciously take you himself.” Her eyes flickered up to your hair which was swooped high up on your head, a few curls of your hair hanging over your cheeks. The earrings on your ears were heavy, and the jewels on your neck were even heavier. You felt like your outer bearings weighed a thousand pounds and were crushing your frail body with every passing second. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to die in that moment, you certainly did, but you would be damned if it was in such a ridiculous outfit.

A housemaid rushed into the room suddenly and declared, “The painter has arrived.”

Your mother nearly slapped you across the face with how fast her hands went to fixing your hair. “Send him in!”

There was a hesitant look on the maid’s face, but she left with her hands fumbling together. Your mother turned your shoulders towards the door, harshly slapping your lower back to make your back straighten. You sighed, feeling anxious at how little you could breathe. You grabbed at your neck as if that would help you breathe, but your mother slapped your hand away. “Don’t fidget.”

She stood next to you, her hands posed at her front, a wide smile on her face. You were pretty sure that she wanted her men to desire herself as much as they desired you, and sometimes you wondered if you might marry a man just so he could fuck your mother and get her out of your own ass.

“Smile,” she whispered, but that was one thing she would have to slap across your face before you ever would.

The door to the library opened slowly, and you could feel your mother’s excited breaths beside you. A booted foot stepped into the room first, your eyes following the body that stepped through. A leg clothed in wide grey trousers, a frilly cream blouse tucked into the pants. You were offput by a mane of long, wavy brunette hair, though your first instinct was maybe Sokovian men donned long hair as a cultural preference. But when you saw the face that glowed into the room, those viridescent eyes, sharp cheekbones with a feminine curve, supple pink lips, your own lips fell open as you realized that Mr. Maximoff was, in fact, a woman.

You thought your mother was going to spontaneously combust in a theatrical display of steaming, rageful sparks. You looked over at her—her eyes were glancing down the woman over and over again, trying to figure out how in the world this person could possibly be a woman, this person who she had built up to the be the key to breeding her own daughter.

You couldn’t help but gleam at the impossibly devastated look on her face. This painter was a woman standing here in pants, holding an easel with a canvas under one strong arm and a bag full of paints in the other.

“Mr. Maximoff?” your mother gasped stupidly.

By the look on the woman’s face, you could tell this wasn’t the first time. “Ms. Maximoff. Wanda.” She stepped forward, setting her supplies down on the floor. “It is a pleasure to meet you and have the honor of being commissioned by your name.” Her Sokovian accent was thick and velvety. She came closer, holding out a hand to your mother. She eyed it like it was a snake, but took it, and Wanda shook her hand like a man.

Her snakelike eyes flickered to you. “I presume this is your daughter—my subject?”

“Uh…” Your mother began, her eyes focused on the shape of Wanda’s breasts under her shirt as if in disbelief. “Yes, this is my daughter, y/n.”

Your eyes were trained on Wanda’s. They were looking at you pointedly, a little wide, soaking up every inch of your presence as if you were the only source of light in the room. Her lips curved into a coy smirk. “Pleasure,” she gently spoke, reaching for your hand. You gave it to her, expecting her to shake it, but she gently turned your palm over, her thumb tracing the soft skin on the back of your hand, before she lowered down and pressed her lips there.

It became even harder to breathe as the woman rose back up, the feeling of her lips still tingling on the skin of your hand. “You are as beautiful as your mother spoke of you.”

For once, you actually smiled without your mother forcing you to. Wanda stepped away, looking between you and your mother expectantly. “Well, shall I get to work? I do charge by the hour.”

Your mother was in some sort of trance. “Oh, um… Sure—well, you see Mr.—Ms. Maximoff—”

“Wanda.”

“… Wanda. I was, admittedly, under the impression that the painter I commissioned to paint my daughter’s portrait would be a man. Are you sure that you do not have a father or brother by the same name, or even a husband, who can come instead? You see, this portrait is going to be very important to me. I intend to show my daughter’s beauty and wealth so that I can find her a proper husband, and given that is such an important cause, I need a painter with the highest skill and artistry to do it properly.”

Wanda only blinked. “There is no other Maximoff but myself. I understand your concern about this portrait, but I ensure you that my skill and artistry will serve the best purpose for your daughter, though her beauty so obvious that even a street painter could convey it.” Her eyes flickered to you again, drawing up another smile on your face. It was funny how she was painting your face without even holding a brush.

Your mother’s eyes danced around uncomfortably. “Well…” She paused, looking over Wanda once again. “Alright.”

“Shall we do it here?” Wanda asked, pointing towards a sofa that sat in the corner of the library against a beautifully wallpapered wall.

“Alright,” your mother said reluctantly. Wanda instantly went to work, setting up her easel and canvas in front of the sofa. She then turned to you, holding out her hand with that sort of smirk on her face. “Come.”

Hesitating, you stepped forward, sliding your hand into her soft, gentle one. She led you over to the sofa, gesturing you to sit, holding your hand until you were fully seated. You squirmed a little as she looked down at you, her eyes appearing darker now that she was turned away from your mother who stood watching with nervous eyes and fidgeting hands. Wanda was staring down at you with an unreadable expression, and when your mother cleared her throat in the silence, it seemed she almost forgot she was there.

Wanda turned to look at your mother, clasping her hands behind her back and taking a few steps towards her.

“My lady, I do find my creative focus more intent when in the presence of only my muse and myself,” Wanda spoke confidently. Your mother was obviously taken aback by this, as if she had expected to watch the entire process, her hand of control over every little thing. She liked to think she was God, or at least God of your world and everything that had to do with you.

“Oh—are you sure?”

Wanda smiled graciously and nodded.

Your mother looked between Wanda and you reluctantly before finally nodding and stepping away. “Well, if you need me, you can ring the bell for the maid.” She paused again, waiting to be told to stay, but Wanda only stared at her, so finally she left, closing the door gently behind her.

You could breathe a little easier now that your mother wasn’t in the room. Wanda sighed and turned on her heel to face you. Your back straightened instinctively under her prolonged stare, your eyebrows creasing to try and figure out why she was staring at you with her head tilted as if you were already a painting hung in a gallery.

“Confusion doesn’t look good on you, darling, and it surprises me so that anything could not look good on you,” she smoothly murmured, taking slow steps parallel from you. She disappeared behind the easel before reappearing on the other side of it, her eyes still trained on you.

You shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. “You’re staring at me.”

She blinked, a smile widening on her face. “I’m supposed to paint you. How can I do that without ever looking at you?”

Your face warmed a little, eyes darting down to the floor. She made a noise with her tongue before she went over to the large window of the grand library, pulling on a chain to close the thick, heavy curtains until the room was blanketed in darkness. You could hardly see anything now—you heard the fumbling of things and the striking of a match before a golden light emanated from the table nearby. Wanda had lit a candle, bringing the match near her lips and blowing on it to put it out.

“What are you doing?”

She walked to the other side of the sofa where another smaller table was and lit a candle there too, so that now you were blanketed in a soft, orange huge.

“This painting is to attract men to you for the purpose of marriage, correct?” she asked as she blew the second match out. “What’s more attractive than dim lighting under the intimate glow of candles?” Her eyes, darker now, flickered to you as she walked back to her easel, dragging a nearby stool to the easel and lighting one last candle there so that she could see her work.

“How sensual,” you remarked, to which a hidden smile curled on her lips, shadowed by her hair.

Wanda reached into her bag and brought out a palette, a tin can of brushes, a jug of water, and several bottles of paint, placing them all on the stool beside the easel. You expected her to just be quiet and start painting, but she walked towards you. Your chin rose to keep your eyes on hers as she neared you, looking down at you analytically.

“Sit back a little,” she said softly, “So your back is against the cushion.” You did as she said, scooting back until you could sit up straight with the support of the cushion. “Good. Now, your hands…” She looked at where you had placed them, lying mindlessly on either side of your lap. “What are we going to about those?” She smirked again.

“What do you mean?”

“Hands are as integral part of a portrait as is the face,” she tilted her head and leaned back, imagining your visage as a whole. “Cross them over your lap.”

You plopped them over each other on your knees, expecting that to be good enough, but when you glanced back at her, she was trying not to laugh. “What?” you asked defensively.

“Nothing,” she said, her Sokovian accent edged with amusement. “Here.” She knelt down in front of you, gently taking your wrists into her hands. You held your breath as she positioned them very particularly over your lap, trying to ignore the way her fingertips grazed the fabric of your skirt and left wrinkles in the fabric there, indentions of her touch. Her hands touching yours so delicately was sending jolts of electricity up your spine. You blasphemed yourself for being so shy of a simple touch, from a girl, nonetheless.

Once she had your hands positioned the way she wanted, she stood back up and assessed your top half. You caught the way her eyes fed upon your chest for a brief, startling moment before she looked up to your face. “Sit up a little straighter.” She put her hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you to sit up, her fingertips sliding to your upper back. You grew bothered at how handsy she was being. Her hands moved to your face, adjusting the curls of hair that were left out of your updo. Her face was close to yours now, her cool breath fanning across your mouth and leaving you no room to breathe, a heat forming under the skin of your face.

You recoiled suddenly, and she looked at you with unnerved eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

Her sudden change of confidence at the thought of somehow paining you by moving your hair eased your discomfort a little. “You’re reminding me of my mother. Always picking at me, fixing me.”

Her lips pursed together. “Your mother fixes you to her liking. I’m fixing you to yours.”

You eyed her suspiciously. “I haven’t said a word to you about any of my likings.” You noticed how quiet you were speaking, how quiet the room was, how close you were together in the corner of the large room.

“You don’t have to. I can tell,” she whispered with a crawling smile, adjusting your hair one last time before finally moving away from you. “Now, just sit.”

“Seems simple enough,” you breathed once she was finally behind her easel, trying your best to stay still.

She picked up her palette and started mixing paints and water, tussling through some brushes before finding one she wanted, and you finally heard the scraping of her brush on the canvas. You would have much rather been behind the easel with her, watching with as much curiosity and intrigue as you had then as she worked, than be sitting still like a lifeless doll as her eyes stared at you.

After several minutes of having her look between you and the easel, you started to get uncomfortable. The corset was still restricting your breath, and it felt impossible to keep your hands completely still. The dress was making your back hurt, and the painful silence and the feeling of Wanda’s eyes constantly on yours was enough to make you go mad. You hadn’t even realized that you were starting to squirm, accidentally moving your hands and your position.

You heard a sigh which led you to look back up at Wanda. She set the palette down, along with her brush, and stepped out from behind the easel, pacing back and forth with her eyes set upon you in a sort of disappointed and confused stare.

“What?” you blurted, feeling offended that somehow she thought you couldn’t even just sit to her liking. “What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re fidgeting,” she said with more seriousness, her artistic focus shining through.

You looked down and realized that somehow over the course of a few minutes you had completely lost the original position she had you in. You sighed, deflating as sharp pains ran up your torso. “I’ve never been painted before.”

“Well, it’s an honor to take your portrait virginity,” she countered with a little smirk, ceasing her pacing to stand staring at you with a tilted head.

A searing hot blush fled to your cheeks. “You speak like a man.”

“You’re sitting like one.”

You realized you were lounging disgracefully on the sofa with your back hunched and legs open. Snapping your legs shut, you groaned and laid back on the sofa dramatically. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.”

“You don’t want to be painted?”

“No! And I don’t want to be married off to some bastard and bred like swine until I die. I cannot breathe without her trying to stuff me into a man’s side like an armpiece. I cannot breathe with her constantly in my ear speaking to me how I should talk better, walk better, sit better, stand better, look better. I cannot breathe—I just cannot breathe!” You leaned forward suddenly, feeling faint and gasping for air, clawing helplessly at the front of your corset whose fabric was stuck to your skin.

Wanda neared you calmly, holding out a hand in front of your face. Still gasping, you looked up at her, eyes falling to her hand. Feeling helpless, you slid your hand into yours and stood to face her. You realized then suddenly just how beautiful she was, with her full mouth and sharp eyes that were always piercing into you. Without speaking, her hands slid over your shoulders and smoothly turned you around. You froze, confused about what she was doing until you felt her fingers at your back and the sound of strings being undone.

“What are you doing?!” you exclaimed, knowing how long it took your mother to zip you up in that dreadful thing and how, if she knew you had undone it, she would tie it up even tighter.

“I cannot paint you like this,” her husky voice spoke close behind you. “You look dead in this dress.”

“God,” you breathed as she tugged at the strings, causing your body to move with her force. “That’s an interesting way to call someone ugly.”

“You are not alive like this,” she explained, “I can tell that this is not you. This is only a shell, a makeup of your mother. I am not here to paint your mother—I am here to paint you. My muse has to be completely herself, with no facades or lies. I need to see you as you are, truly and honestly. And also, you do look two heartbeats away from death by asphyxiation in this damned thing.” With a forceful tug, she ripped the back of the corset open so forcefully that your body was yanked backwards towards her, but she caught you, hands firmly on your waist.

You gasped in a full breath of air, and although it was a dusty library, it was the freshest breath of air you had ever taken. You were leaning back against her chest now, strands of her brown hair over your chest. Her hands holding your waist slid upwards a little, your body shivering at the feeling.

Her mouth was close to your ear as she whispered, “I’m going to undress you as gently as I can…” As her breath fanned against your ear, alighting all kinds of nerves in your spine that you’d never felt before, her hands slid around the front of your abdomen. “But forgive me if my creative expressions make me a little…forceful.”

She punctuated her words with an aggressive tug on your corset, which made you gasp sharply. She peeled it off your upper body, grabbing at the hips of the dress and tugging it down, also, bending and pulling all the green off your body until it was pooled at your ankles in a pathetic lump of fabric. You turned your head, looking down at Wanda who was crouched at your calves and staring up at you with parted lips and seductive eyes.

Wanda’s hand snaked around your smooth ankle first, cupping your shin as she started to rise, moving back around to behind your knees, lifting up your layers of underskirts as she went. She rose up behind you now, dragging her hand all the way up your leg under your skirt until it was on your hip, centimeters away from your bum.

Your heart was beating fast in your body that was growing warmer even without the top layer of clothing now. All that was left was the white slip that covered your body and the second underskirt.

“I need to see the real you, detka,” she spoke, Sokovian accent think and sensual in your ear.

You could smell her strong perfume of fig, her soft hair tickling your shoulders. You couldn’t believe that this woman had just ripped your dress from you and had you standing in barely any clothing that you wouldn’t even let your mother see you in.

“How can I convey you on canvas if I don’t know you?” She whispered, and the slightest graze of her lips against your ear sent a jolt down your body.

Her fingertips went to your shoulders, tickling your skin as she guided the thin strap of your slip down your shoulders, bringing you to shiver.

“Wanda,” you breathed, unsure of what you wanted to say. Sliding her hands over your skin, keeping her touch on you, she circled you, coming in front of you to look into your eyes.

“Trust me, detka,” she whispered, “I’m a master of the arts. I know what I am doing.”

That she did, with a smirk as she slowly pulled your slip down. You tried to stand confidently under her gaze and touch, but when you felt the silky fabric catch over your breasts and then fall below to reveal them, you gasped desperately for air. Her eyes flickered down, feasting upon the sight of you with utter desire and sensuality. Her mouth was open, lip nearly trembling as she pulled the slip down over your intimate stomach, and then pushed it along with the second skirt off your hips so that you were standing bare and entirely naked in front of her.

“Beautiful,” she breathed with ragged voice. “So… fucking beautiful.”

The vulgar word pierced your spine and made your body heat even more. Your skin was flush and pink under the close, golden hue of the flickering candles, that same unsteady light revealing Wanda’s bulging pupils and darkened irises. She was devouring you with her eyes, and through the lust you saw the creative plates molding perfectly together in her mind.

“Lay down,” she said with faltering voice, clearing her throat as she guided you to the sofa.

No one had ever seen you naked before, and you kept that thought in mind as you carefully climbed onto the sofa, her hand on your lower back leading the way. “On your back,” she demanded, but suddenly she caught you before you laid down, reaching into your hair and undoing it with one pull of a pin. Your hair flooded down your shoulders messily, and you gasped, knowing just how undone you looked. Was she going to paint you like this? In the nude? You knew that was far from what your mother wanted in the portrait, but your mother was even farther away from your thoughts as the Sokovian artist’s hands guided you to lay on the sofa.

“Move on your side slightly,” she instructed, voice taught with many different emotions you couldn’t completely discern. You were halfway on your back and halfway on your side, some of your hair over your chest and some of it cascading down the arm of the sofa above your head.

Finally, she stepped away from you, and you thought you would feel cold without her touch, but her eyes were enough to keep the fire broiling in your stomach alive.

You were sprawled out on the couch like a whore. One leg reaching over the other end of the sofa, the other one halfway off the edge of the cushion. One arm laying on the cushion lifeless, the other one reaching across the top of the sofa. You were wearing nothing but the thick jewels on your upper chest and the earrings hidden behind your hair except for a few twinkles where the light shone through the strands. The golden light of the candles sparkled on the erected rosy peaks of your breasts, flickered off the skin of your stomach.

“Perfect,” Wanda said, grabbing a towel that she had laid on the stool and casting it over her shoulder, her ravenous eyes not leaving yours as she picked up the palette and brush, beginning to scratch across the canvas madly, hardly tearing her eyes from yours.

Your chest rose up and down with the tension in your lungs. Something within you was throbbing at being laid out like this, having this sensual woman tear you apart with her eyes as she painted your likeness on the canvas.

The tension did not die with the silent minutes. It grew and built with every stroke of Wanda’s brush, with her every darting, overfilling look, with your every weak breath and throb of the multiple heartbeats throughout your body. It grew to a head until you felt like you were going to burn right through the cushions of the sofa like a soaring comet.

Every time her hand left the canvas to roll her brush into the pools of paint on the palette, her rings sparkled under the candlelight. There was a gleam on her skin, a craze in her eyes, a moistness to her lips that she repeatedly licked and bit. She was driving you mad without even touching you, and you could tell that you were doing the same to her with the way she painted the canvas so hard that it trembled on the easel.

Finally, without you having to even say anything, she dropped the palette and brush on the stool and dragged the towel away from her shoulder, eyes trained on your body. She had painted so wildly that there were smudges of color on the white sleeves of her blouse and covering her hands. She came to you so quickly that you didn’t even know she was there until she was knelt beside the sofa, placing a hand on your lower stomach.

Her hand sent a streak of color up your skin as she slowly slid it up your abdomen. Red, yellow, green, blue, all streaked together from her hands as she touched the smooth expanse of your skin.

“When I first came in,” she began in a tremulous whisper, “I knew it would be impossible to hold my focus while I painted your portrait.” Her hand swiftly curved around your breast and cupped it, relishing in the supple feeling of your flesh. Your eyes fluttered closed, legs mindlessly moving as she touched you shamelessly, and you let her. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I don’t even have to paint you to make you a walking piece of art.”

You didn’t know what to say as her compliments landed on your skin like warm raindrops and evaporated into your pores, seeping into you and imbuing you with warmth. She bit her lip as she looked down to your breasts which she fondled, rolling her thumb over your hardened nipples. Your skin there was covered in her paint now, colors mixing and melting on the warmth of your skin.

“Is this your creative expressions speaking?” you whispered to her, and she smirked and tilted her head.

“No, it’s just me.” Her eyes flickered to your lips, and without hesitance she leaned forward and kissed you hungrily. You moaned, and with your lips parted she dove her tongue into your mouth. Her other hand found your delicate neck and squeezed it, the cold paint smearing on your skin as her tongue explored your mouth with utter force and desperation, like she needed to know every single corner and texture of your mouth and tongue.

She clambered on top of you, pinning you down on the sofa beneath. Her hands went mad across your body, squeezing and rubbing you everywhere she could, memorizing every single curve and sweet spot that made you arch up against her. Her kisses trailed down your skin, sucking and biting harshly until she made bright red and purple spots that blended in with the paint she had already left there. She made a painted mess of you right there on those cushions, mercilessly sucking on your nipples and pinching them until you were squirming beneath you with desperate need, grabbing at her soft hair and shoulders.

“Wanda,” you moaned as she lowered down your body, leaving wet kisses down your painted stomach until she was at your hips. She growled, glancing up at your bare, marked body before her, lowering herself down between your legs.

“You’re the sort of art that needs to be worshipped,” she grunted as she ran her hand over your thigh, swiveling around it to yank it up over her shoulder. Crouched down, she parted your legs open, moaning at the sight between your legs. She had dwindled you down into a wet mess, and the feeling of her warm breaths fanning against you there did no good for how much you wanted her to touch you.

Most of the paint that was on her hands had been transferred to your body, so she brought her fingers to your slippery folds, groaning at how soft and wet you were. “No one has touched you before?”

“No one,” you whispered, looking down at the lewd sight of this woman between your legs, even her slight touch on your folds making you jolt.

“Let me be the first.”

“Please.”

She wasted no time in lowering her head down and placing her mouth over your slit, running her tongue up your folds and to your clit, circling it with exact pressure. The moan that escaped your mouth was foul, and you bucked your hips towards her face as she started to lap at your clit, pausing every now and then to purse her lips and suckle at it.

“Oh, Wanda!” you exclaimed, forgetting that your mother could be right outside.

Reaching her hand up your belly, she clasped it over your mouth to silence your moans. You held her wrist, nails sinking into her skin as you trembled beneath her.

“You must be quiet, detka. What happens between an artist and her muse, stays there,” she whispered thickly, her mouth glistening with your own juices. She brought her fingers to your clit, pushing into it before lowering them down to your slick entrance. She watched your every expression and movement of your body as she slid two of her fingers inside you slowly, stretching your virgin hole around their length and width.

Your muffled moans were under her hand as she pumped her fingers deep inside you, curling them to graze the inner sweet spots inside you. Your hips jerked as she lowered her mouth again to suckle at your clit while her fingers thrusted into you.

“You’re just as perfect inside as you are on the outside,” she moaned into your clit as she spread her fingers inside you, moving them more to just feel you than to pleasure you, but it certainly pleasured you all the same.

“Fuck, Wanda,” you cursed under her hand, feeling a coil spring tight in your lower belly. She trailed her kisses over that part of your belly, as if she could feel the tension there.

“You’re being such a good muse, such a good girl for me,” she whispered, rubbing your clit with her thumb as she squeezed a third finger inside you. “I’m inclined to take you away with me and make you the muse for all my work. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Living with me, a slave to my touch and my kiss, a wet little hole for me to fuck when I’m creatively and sexually frustrated. Wouldn’t you?”

Her thrusts were hard now, her voice snaky and thick. You whined and moaned pathetically under her hands, bucking your hips wildly off the sofa. You nodded to her question, burning at the way she laughed. “My little whore, letting me fuck her right here on the sofa, all naked and covered in paint.”

Wanda’s words twisted in your ears and wound you up even tighter, your inner walls squeezing around her fingers that pushed through them. She bit the skin of your belly hard, and with a few more pumps of her fingers, she wound you so tight that you snapped, the coil in your stomach breaking and unleashing screams and shivers of climactic pleasure and euphoria that blinded you. She talked you through it, praising you for being such a good muse, kissing your stomach and rocking her fingers more gently inside you.

You finally came down from your orgasmic high, knees trembling around her shoulders as she crawled up you, giving you a multitude of calming kisses all over your face. You sighed and looked at her with a shy smile, still struggling to catch your breath.

Grinning, she stepped back and looked at you. Your face was bright red with pleasure, a gleam shining off your skin, your body looking even more relaxed with the post-fuck glow that she had been craving to carve out of you from the very beginning. Grabbing her palette and brush, she eyed you from behind the easel, smirking under the candlelight that remarked her viridescent eyes.

“Stay just like that.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #marvel #lgbt #lesbian #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x y/n

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fandomnerd9602 · 3 months ago

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Scarlet Proposal

Wanda Maximoff x Spider-Man!Reader

a Scarlet Webs story

Life was looking pretty good for you, your universe’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. You had the love of your life, two amazing baby boys.

Not too bad for a guy bitten by a genetically engineered spider. But something was eating at you.

You found yourself looking into a pawn shop’s window one day, a diamond ring caught your eye. You loved Wanda. You wanted her to be all yours and for you to be all hers.

Tony put a stop to that as soon as he saw which ring you wanted to get her.

“Absolutely not, Web-Head!” He argued.

“Why not? I love her, she loves me, she blessed me with two beautiful babies”

He held up his own credit card and handed it to you, “go to an actual jeweler’s store. Keep love alive”

“Thanks Mr Stark” you quickly gave him a hug and ran off.

Later that night you arrived at your childhood home and yours and Wanda’s home.

Wanda was so happy to have this. All of this. You. Her little boys. A home in Queens with a kitchen full of dishes and a fridge full of food.

Wanda had an oldies song playing on the little radio in the living room. You and her had redecorated the house to have a modern 50s kind of vibe. It was perfect in her mind.

Wanda was cleaning dishes, just enjoying the peace afforded to her. And then came the sound of whining coming from the living room.

Wanda walked in to find her boys fussing in their little play pen. Barely three months old and they had a lot to say.

“Oh detkas,” Wanda whispers as she kneels down to pick both her boys up. She carefully levitates them into her arms.

“My Billy. My Tommy.” She looks in their eyes with nothing but love and adoration. “Did you have a nightmare? It’s okay. Momma is here now and Poppa will be home soon too”

She began to sing a little Sokovian lullaby to them. In truth it was also a protection spell over them. She learned a couple things from studying with your universe’s Doctor Strange.

As the song came to its end, the young witch kissed both their heads, “I love you so much”

“You got a voice the angels would be jealous of” you smiled at your gal as you came in thru the back window.

“Welcome home, detka” Wanda giggles as she walks up and kisses you softly. Her lips were like touching heaven itself.

“You made it a home,” you respond. “And that’s all I could ever want. You’re all I ever want”

“Yes” she replies

“Huh?”

Wanda giggles, “your mind races when you’re nervous, detka. But please, do it!”

You chuckle before getting on one knee and bringing out a diamond ring.

“Wanda, my Scarlet Witch, I love you so much. You made my life infinitely better. You made my house, a home. You blessed me with your presence and two wonderful children. And all I wanna do is spend my life making you smile. Wanda, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” She says thru her tears, “yes! A thousand times yes!!”

You slide the ring on Wanda’s finger and she pulls you into her lips with her magic. She kisses you repeatedly, both of you lost in the joy of the moment.

Not bad for a web slinger or a scarlet witch. A little slice of paradise carved out in your little corner of the multiverse.

Tags: @ma1egamer @jacelion @jadenyukiyusakufujikiyutoduelist @family-house-of-m @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @holiday-house-of-m @lifespectator @aloneodi @abimess @ab1nsur @tokufighter @rroyale-109

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oizysian · 2 years ago

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Closer | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader Warnings: dark!wanda, breeding, self harm, mind control, manipulation, slight dubcon, Wanda has a magic penis. Word Count: 2k Genre: Smut

summary: while exploring the multiverse, Wanda comes across a most curious scene.

I'll tell them my religion's you

I placed the last rock atop the altar, licking my dry lips as I admired the stack of beautifully unique stones. The candles were all lit, various tapers of different colors and sizes illuminated the space they occupied.

I got on my knees before the shrine, bringing my hands together and closing my eyes so I could make one final plea to the Goddess.

“O, Goddess Scarlet Witch, please hear my prayer.” I took a deep breath, pushing back the tears that pricked at the corners of my eyes. “I’ve made several offerings to you, O, Goddess, and I hope you are pleased with them, but I’m afraid I’ve nothing left to offer.”

I had offered her fine jewels, precious stones, even brought to her a lamb for sacrifice, but now I was out of things to give … save for one thing.

“So, I offer to you, my life.” I took the knife out of its sheath, my hands shaking as I raised it up, as if she was there to see it. “I hope I am a worthy sacrifice.” I whispered into the night, bringing the blade down to my abdomen and plunging it in.

With a cry of pain, I laid myself down in front of the altar, letting the sweet darkness of death take me to her. I shivered, the chill of the night soaking into my bones as I let myself go.

“Foolish girl.”

I heard a soft voice say as my vision got cloudy, my head too heavy to lift to see who was intruding on my private final moments with the Goddess.

I gasped softly as I felt my body mend itself, the fabric of my being stitching back together. I gathered my strength and opened my eyes, watching as this beautiful woman hovered over me, and from her fingertips red wisps wove themselves into my gaping wound.

I was left speechless as I watched her, the Goddess, tending to me. On her head was her crown, her reddish brown hair flowing over her shoulders, her eyes red, glowing in the darkness of the night, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Goddess,” I breathed softly. “You came to me.”

“I am no Goddess.” She said, her unfamiliar accent thick.

The glow in her fingertips and her eyes subsided, and with it so did my pain. I took a deep breath and sat up, looking down at the dried blood on my belly, but with no wound to speak of.

“You are The Scarlet Witch.” I said softly, looking into her hardened green eyes. “You are the Goddess of chaos magic.”

I pointed to the altar behind her and she slowly turned around to look at it. A statue resembling her stood tall, surrounded by candles, flowers, bottles of wine, baskets of fruits and bread, small rocks, and jewelry of all kinds, but mostly rings.

“What is this?” She questioned as she stood, her stained fingertips reaching out to touch the face of the marble carving.

“It is you.” I said before getting on my knees before her, my head bowed in submission.

“And you were willing to die for me?”

I nodded, but kept my head down, knowing I had no right laying my eyes on a Goddess.

She reached down and grabbed my chin, raising it so I would look at her.

“You are too beautiful to be a sacrifice.”

I opened my eyes and admired her; her full lips, her deep, green eyes, her high cheekbones. She truly was the Goddess.

“Thank you, Goddess.” I said softly, wanting nothing more than to please the woman that finally answered my prayers and appeared before me.

“You want to please me?” She tilted her head at me and I froze, not understanding how she knew what I was thinking.

“Y-yes, Goddess.”

“My name is Wanda. And what do they call you?”

“Y/N.” I said quickly, swallowing nervously. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N.” She said my name as if she was feeling the weight of it on her tongue. “You can please me, Y/N.”

“How? Please tell me how. I’ll do anything for you, my Goddess.”

She helped me to stand and I took hold of her arms to balance myself. I stared into her emerald eyes, completely transfixed by her astounding beauty. She leaned in closer to me, just barely ghosting her lips over my own. I trembled, unsure of how to respond to her.

At my hesitance, she moved in, cupping my face in her hands and pulling me closer to her, kissing me softly. My heart pounded in my chest at the closeness and the feel of her, her smell and taste intoxicating. She ran one of her hands through my hair, getting it tangled in my tousled locks and grabbed a handful, tugging on it gently.

I opened my mouth, gasping at her slight aggressiveness and she slid her tongue inside, exploring me. I stayed still in her arms, responding to her kisses the best that I could. Her lips and tongue seemed so skilled and I could barely keep up with her. She released my hair and let me breathe.

“I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” She spoke against my lips and I nodded, wanting to do anything and everything she asked of me.

She smiled down at me and stroked my cheek gently, and I nearly purred at the feel.

“I know you’ll be a good girl for me, malyshka. I know you’ll do everything I say.”

I nodded eagerly and pressed my lips to hers in excitement, trying my best to kiss her the same way she had kissed me. She smiled against my lips and allowed me to briefly take control, quickly realizing that I had no idea what I was doing, but I was very anxious to learn.

Red wisps surrounded us and I could feel them slipping underneath my clothing, wrapping around my limbs and holding me in place against her. I felt one of them wrap around my neck and tighten, and at that moment the wet spot in my panties couldn’t be denied.

She pulled away from me and admired the view before her; me struggling against her magic, the tendrils bound me completely, not one inch of my body under my control.

She raised me up, a small gesture with her wrist had me hovering in front of her and suddenly those same tendrils came towards my face, invading my mind and my senses. All I could feel was her. All I knew was her - my goddess.

All I wanted now was to taste her, to feel her, to be hers.

“Goddess,” I whined pathetically. “I am yours to have. Let me please you.”

“You will, malyshka.” Her magic tightened around my throat and I couldn’t help but moan. “That’s all you’ll do from now on.”

She motioned towards my body and suddenly my clothing was gone, leaving me bare and open in front of her. A wicked smile crept along her face and the want to rub my legs together to ease the ache she caused was greater than my desire to survive this encounter.

Her fingers moved delicately and my legs spread apart for her. She tilted her head as she eyed me hungrily, needily, and I shivered under her heavy gaze.

“You are so beautiful.” She spoke softly, her painted fingertips coming to stroke my soaked folds. “So wet for me.”

“Goddess!” I squeaked, not used to being touched in such a way. “Please!”

She looked at me for a moment, a flash of realization crossing her features before her satisfied expression returned.

“A virgin sacrifice.” She bit her lip and smiled. “An offering any deity would gratefully accept.”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as she continued to look me over, my body trembling with want. I was so unfamiliar with all of this and now the Goddess wanted one of the last things I could offer her - and I would gladly let her have it.

Her fingers dipped into my pussy, my body attempting to move against her as she carefully explored me without going too deep. She removed her fingers and brought them up to her lips, her tongue jutting out to taste the sticky slick on her hand.

“And so sweet.”

“Please, Goddess.” I cried, unsure of what I was even begging for, but the look on her face told me that she enjoyed it nevertheless.

“Don’t worry, detka. I’m going to take very good care of you.”

Wanda’s hand hovered over the altar for a moment and soon it was bare, suitable for her needs. She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again, her clothing was gone, and laying along her thigh was a glowing, red, cock, surging with chaos magic.

“You are mine, malyshka.” She stroked the cock and it reacted as if it was an actual penis, becoming erect in her hand and dripping with precum.

She laid herself down on the altar, still stroking herself and waved her hand towards me, the pulsing red tendrils dragging me towards her.

My breathing was ragged as I was lowered onto her. She was large, throbbing, and I was suddenly scared for a moment. But then, my eyes fell upon hers and all my fears melted away. My virginity was hers - all of me was hers.

She grabbed my hips as I took the cock inch by inch, my aching cunt stretching to accommodate her size.

“G-Goddess! It’s too much!” I cried and she shushed me, running her hand over my abdomen as I took her.

“You were made for me. You can take it and more if I want you to.”

I groaned as I finally bottomed out, my belly bulging ever so slightly at the intrusion.

“See?” She grunted, thrusting upward into me as she held my hips. “You take my cock so well.”

A tendril slid from between my breasts up to my mouth, slipping it’s way inside and fucking my throat. I gagged on it and I could hear her laughing, her hips slapping against my own as she fucked me in two of my holes.

“You’ll be covered in my cum once I’m done with you.” She said as her magical cock throbbed inside of me, her strokes slow and purposeful.

Her brow furrowed and beads of sweat built up on her forehead as she got closer and closer to release. The wisps circled my nipples, tugging and pinching them as I continued to take her the best I could.

Wanda let out a small, whimpering cry before cumming inside of me, her cum completely coating my insides and filling me up. The tendril in my mouth jerked before also cumming, the magical cum shooting down my throat.

I gagged as it slid out of my mouth. Coughing, I caught my breath, the fluid spilling past my lips and falling onto my chin and chest.

She continued to fuck her cum into me, the squishy sounds incredibly loud in the quiet room. Wisps circled my thighs, caressing my clit with featherlike touches, almost instantly bringing me to orgasm. I writhed within my binds, my cheeks burning red with embarrassment as I came on top of her.

I threw my head back and called out for her, my pussy milking her fat cock as I came. The sounds she made were sinful as we both came down from our intense highs. The tendrils began to release me and I laid on top of her, trembling as she wrapped her arms around me.

“You did so good, malyshka.” She whispered softly, pressing a kiss to my crown. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re mine.”

“Only yours, Goddess.” I tentatively raised my head to press my lips against her own and she gladly accepted my kisses. “Only yours.”

I thought the only way I’d get closer to the Goddess was to get on my hands and knees and pray. I don’t need to pray anymore.

#wanda smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff x reader #mommy wanda #wanda maximilf #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x female reader #Wanda maximoff imagine #Wanda maximoff x y/n

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widowpunx · 11 months ago

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So freaking happy someone is writing wandanat, I get so tired of all reader insert stuff. Can you write one where G!PNatasha takes Wanda to her first club to celebrate her birthday and some hot dom starts hitting on Wanda and it pisses Nat off and so naturally she ends up getting really possessive and they end up having fantastic drunk sex and Nat figures out that Wanda may be a little kinkier than she realized.

I'm having a super rough day so that would really be a silver lining in all of it.

My Favorite Need

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanoff

Rated: Explicit [Just 18+]

Words: 3,614

This work contains: Explicit Sex Scenes. Natasha Romanov Has a Penis, Fingerfucking, Vaginal Sex, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex. Possessive Natasha Romanov, Sub Wanda Maximoff, Dom Natasha Romanov, Jealous Natasha Romanov, Wanda is a Tease.

English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistake

Hope you enjoy and makes your day a thousand times better

Wanda had no plans for her birthday after all the unfortunate events that happened the last few weeks, like escaping the raft and becoming an international fugitive but her teammates decided to cheer her up. Steve baked her a birthday cake, Sam gave her the last two books of the Harry Potter saga of which she was a great lover and Natasha gave her a nice black leather jacket and a nice silver necklace with a pretty scarlet jewel which were to Wanda's liking, she loved leather jackets and the necklace was a nice gift. Wanda couldn't help that nice flutter in her chest when Natasha placed the delicate necklace around her neck.

For the first time in a long time Wanda was very excited about her 26th birthday. The surprises seemed to be endless as Natasha decided to invite her to a nightclub for the first time. She was anxious to meet a nightclub for the first time in her life, it could be a fun place to dance. Natasha assured her that this nightclub was the best in Prague. Steve didn't agree with the girls going to a public place like that as it might attract attention but Natasha assured him that she would take care of Wanda. While Steve and Sam would be watching the surroundings of the safe house Natasha and Wanda would be celebrating.

Wanda wore a black dress that Pepper had given her on her last birthday. The dress highlighted her figure and her red hair, she wore black makeup around her green eyes to make them shine even more. Natasha picked her up at the old safe house and gave her a warm hug.

"Happy birthday, little witch." Natasha told her with a sweet crooked smile as her eyes moved up and down admiring the young sokovian girl's beauty. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," Wanda told her, smiling back and trying not to blush. Natasha looked great just in black jeans, combat boots and a black leather jacket and her red hair shining and flowing down her shoulders.

"Come on, I'll show you what a real party is like. Just you and me and vodka to celebrate this very special occasion." Natasha told her, leading Wanda out of the safe house where a black audi was waiting parked on the street.

They arrived at the place and got in without having to wait, thanks to the fact that Natasha knew the owner of the nightclub. The nightclub was full of people, strobe lights all over the place while the hard beats of the music makes every part of Wanda vibrate. Natasha took Wanda's hand and led her to the dance floor. Natasha started to move to the music, and Wanda felt a little awkward as she didn't know how to dance, however Wanda let herself go as she felt Natasha holding her close and swaying to the music.

Wanda smiled broadly as she felt a happiness fill her chest, for a moment she forgot that she was a wanted fugitive and instead she was a normal girl enjoying her birthday. Natasha and Wanda drank some vodka to start the night, however by the fourth vodka Wanda started to feel dizzy but happy.

The happiness inside her increased as she noticed Natasha looking at her with sparkling eyes. Wanda wondered if Natasha had realized her feelings. Wanda had felt more than friendship for the spy for a long time but after Natasha released her from the raft her crush became more intense. Wanda wanted to tell her how she felt, but she didn't know how.

She didn't want to risk embarrassing herself and end up heartbroken if Natasha didn't feel the same way. Worse yet Wanda was afraid of ruining her friendship with Nat. Maybe Natasha just saw her as a little sister.

"You want a beer this time?" asked Natasha, after dancing to several songs.

"Yes, please." nodded Wanda as she finished her vodka tonic, her cheeks a little flushed. "A beer sounds great."

" Wait here, I'll get the beers." Natasha told her with a smile, before going towards the bar.

Wanda was left alone on the dance floor, and took the opportunity to look around. She saw many people dancing and drinking minding their own business and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Meanwhile, a drunk man approached her from behind and whispered in her ear.

"Hey, beautiful, what are you doing alone in a place like this?

Wanda was startled and turned to see who it was. She had to make a great effort not to use her magic and throw the drunk guy into the air. He was a tall, muscular man with shaved head in a red shirt and tight jeans. He had an arrogant smile and red eyes that looked at her as if she was a piece of meat.

" I'm not alone." Wanda said, trying to get away.

"Who are you coming with?" asked the drunken man, taking a step forward, "Where is your date? I don't see it anywhere.

"On the bar getting us some drinks," said Wanda nervously. Her heart was pounding as she fiddled with her fingers, a clear sign of nervousness in her.

"Well, while your imaginary friend comes back, why don't we dance a little?" the man said, taking her by the waist and pulling her closer to him. His accent was harsh.

Wanda felt uncomfortable and scared at the same time. She could use her magic but she didn't want to make a fuss and putting Natasha, Sam and Steve at risk if someone called the police. It was unpleasant when the man pressed her against his body and brushed her face with his. She tried to pull away, but he was stronger than she was. Wanda needed her magic.

"Get away from me." Wanda mumbled, her body all tense."

"Come on, doll. Don't be shy," the drunken man said, winking at her. "I can get you out of here and take you to my apartment if you want."

"I don't like you. I'm not crazy to go with drunk idiot like you." Wanda hissed this time not noticing that a very angry Natasha was walking towards them.

"I like it when bitches like you act tough. In the end they're the ones begging for more cock" the man had a nasty grin on his face.

Wanda was about to respond to the asshole for that disgusting comment but a familiar voice interrupted her. "The girl said to let her go, asshole!" Natasha shouted at him, her voice clear and loud over the pounding music.

"Who are you?" said the drunken man confronting Natasha.

"She's my girlfriend." This time it was Wanda who answered as her face reddened at what she had said. She couldn't believe she had said that. Maybe the vodka in her system made her say such nonsense. Internally she was screaming. "Oh shit! Oh shit!" praying that Natasha wouldn't get mad at her for saying they were girlfriends.

Fortunately Natasha played along as she stepped in front of Wanda.

"Girlfriend? Ha ha ha ha I don't believe you." the man said, teasing the two but his smile faded when Natasha pulled Wanda close and kissed her. The first touch of Natasha's lips against hers sent her to heaven. Wanda was speechless, for a moment she forgot how to breathe. She couldn't believe what was happening, it seemed like the world had stopped around them. Natasha was kissing her. It was what she had dreamed of for so long.

As a smile appeared on her lips, Wanda opened her mouth allowing Natasha to deepen the kiss. They kissed passionately, and forgot about everything else. The heat of Natasha's body pressed against hers was totally intoxicating, Wanda didn't want this moment to ever end. Natasha's lips tasted like vodka and cherry. Wanda realized that Natasha was a fucking good kisser. The man looked at them with rage and helplessness, fortunately the security of the place arrived and took him out of the nightclub.

Natasha was the first to break the kiss to the bad luck of Wanda who could spend all night kissing Nat. The redhead whispered in her ear. "Come with me."

Wanda didn't have time to answer she simply followed Natasha who led her up some stairs to the second floor of the club where there were some private rooms with beds and big curtains at the entrances to offer some privacy to those couples who wanted to have an intimate moment

"Oh god! What are you doing, Natasha?!" Wanda gasped as Natasha pressed her up against the wall.

"So did you say you were my girlfriend, right?"

"Sorry, Nat. That was a very stupid thing to say." Wanda began to apologize. However she couldn't believe the peculiar situation she found herself in.

"No need to apologize, little witch. I actually like the idea of you being my girlfriend." Natasha chuckled as she used her body to press Wanda against the wall. The witch almost groaned when Natasha cupped her left tit and gently squeezing it. Wanda gasped as Natasha laugh and pressed warm kisses on her neck.

Natasha has had her eyes on the Sokovian girl ever since she joined the team, but with every battle and every moment with her only served to make Natasha realize that she loved the girl. Wanda was sweet and smart, and incredibly gorgeous with a pretty face and bright green eyes, and also a gorgeous pair of large tits and a sweet ass. It was just a crush she said to herself the last two years but after what happened with that drunken asshole she'd decided that she would try to make Wanda hers.

Wanda couldn't help but feel a little excited when Natasha pulled down the cleavage of her dress and exposed her bare tits. The touch of Natasha was something more. Everything was happening so fast but at the same time so slow. She wanted to have something really intimate with Natasha. She would be lying if she said no. Wanda has spent whole days fantasizing about Natasha. Her fantasies and desires had only gotten hotter since she discovered Natasha's secret.

One sleepless morning Wanda made herself a cup of tea and started wandering the halls of the complex but abruptly stopped when she noticed noises coming from one of the gyms. Glancing inside she saw Natasha hitting the punching bag. Wanda's mouth went dry as she noticed the view of a very sweaty Natasha practicing some boxing moves. She liked to see the way her arm muscles bulged out. Suddenly her jaw dropped when noticed the outline of a prick on her shorts. Natasha had a penis! The realization almost made her faint. Wanda has never been the same since she discovered Natasha's secret.

Wanda groaned as Natasha pressed her hard against the wall and more forcefully rubbed her stiff nipple. The sokovian witch felt a surge of excitement as her mentor pressed her strong body up against hers. Wanda inhaled sharpy as soon as she could feel a huge bulge rubbing against her crotch.

"Oh god!," Wanda said with wide eyes, her legs were shaking. Natasha's bulge was huge and stiff. Wanda can feel it throbbing against her crotch. She was embarrassed to feel her panties all wet at this point.

"Can you feel it, uh?" Natasha murmured with a smile as she watched Wanda's flushed face.

Wanda didn't have the courage to respond however she nodded as her cheeks grew even redder. She stopped breathing when Natasha took her right hand and slide it down her crotch where her bulging prick was.

"Oh Nat!" Wanda gasped in response as she felt the huge bulge in her jeans. Natasha was awakening a side in her she never knew she had. There was a pleasant tingle between her thighs, and soft throb in her clit. She realized that she was getting wet, very wet under Natasha's touch.

Natasha wasted no time and removed the leather jacket that fell to the floor a minute later leaving Wanda's chest exposed to her eyes with only the small silver necklace with the scarlet jewel adorning her neck.

"Bozhe moi, what a pretty tits," Natasha said, squeezing Wanda's beautiful tits. She couldn't help but pinch her left nipple. That only turned Wanda on. As she continued to kneading her tits, the redhead witch began to get all hot. It was then Natasha slide her free hand slowly worked down her flat belly to the hem of the dress Wanda was wearing.

Wanda shivered when Natasha pressed her soft lips against hers and gave her a hot wet kiss. Natasha was tasting Wanda's mouth and devouring her moans as she began to tug at her wet red panties with her hand. Not wasting time Natasha quickly pushed her index finger into her drooling pussy and began sliding it in and out.

Suddenly Wanda groaned as she threw her head back in pleasure. "Ahhh!" It was a blessing that the loud music of the club drowned out her moan, otherwise they probably would have heard her all the way to the dance floor.

Wanda was breathing hard as Natasha smiled and her finger buried deeper into her pussy. In seconds she began to wildly moan and spread her legs wider as the finger fucked deeper and deeper into her tingling dephts.

"You're super tight, Wanda! What a tight honey pot you have down here, baby!" Natasha hummed in her ear as as added another finger and explore the depths of Wanda's sweet pussy. She couldn't believe how wet the gorgeous witch was, her hand was bathed with her sweet pussy juices.

Wanda was enjoying the pleasant fingerfuck. She was almost was almost there! Ready to cum! Natasha's touch on her pussy were sending thrills up and down her spine. Her head was dizzy and spinning. Not even realizing what she was doing, Wanda giggled and reached down and began kneading Natasha's throbbing cock with her hand.

"Oh yes! Touch me! Yeah! Yeah!" Natasha encouraged her with a devilish smile curving her lips. "Open my pants and pulled out my prick."

Wanda no necesitaba que le dijeran dos veces. She just nodded and bit her lower lips, with her right hand she began to unbutton the pants and lower the zipper. Wanda noticed Natasha's prick seemed to swell and throb as she lowered the zipper. It was a surprise to notice that Natasha didn't wear any underwear, so his huge cock burst out from its confines. Wanda almost drooled as she saw Natasha's beautiful prick protruding from her crotch. It was long and thick with blue veins around it.

Wanda inhaled sharply and grabbed her hard prick as Natasha laughed softly and continued to explore Wanda's wet pussy, playing with her clit. A soft moan fell from her mouth as Wanda began to jerk on Natasha's cock. It seemed to throb in her hand, as the tip drooled droplets of transparent pre-cum.

"Like it, huh?" Natasha asked. The hot flush now covered Wanda's neck and tits.

"Oh yeah! Feels so good!" Wanda nodded in approval and began to moan as she approached orgasm. Her hand wrapped around Natasha's throbbing prick."I love your fingers in me. It feels so good"

"I love to play with your pussy, baby!" Natasha whispered as Wanda continued to jerk her aching cock. She groaned in appreciative ecstasy and began to spread hot kisses on Wanda's neck as she added the third finger and fucked her.

Wanda was ready to reach her climax, and she suspect that by the way Natasha was groaning and kissing her neck, she was ready to cum too. She could hear the slurping sound her fingers were making in her wet pussy. It was sexy to hear that. She couldn't contain herself any longer.

"Oh, Nat! Mmmm that's nice! Mmmm!" Wanda gasped, her throat was dry, her body was melting. Finally she came, moaning and giggling. It was then she felt Natasha's prick throb and spewing cum all over her hand.

Wanda looked down just in time to see Natasha's cumming. She kept stroking Natasha's cock for a long time. It seemed as if she would never stop cumming. Certainly Wanda was amazed at the amount. Her hand was a mess, some ropes of semen fell on the carpeted floor.

"God, that was sexy!" Wanda thought with a smile. She felt an incredible urgency of kneel and lick all Natasha's creamy semen. Without thinking, she put her wet fingers in her mouth and tasted Natasha's semen. She was surprised how delicious the creamy seed tasted, it was a little salty, but it still tasted so delicious.

"Taste good, little slut?" Natasha just laughed in response.

"Uh huh" Wanda nodded with her fingers still stuck in her mouth. Still horny, Natasha gently pushed her down on couch in the middle of the room and said: "Now you horny little slut, it's time to fuck you."

Wanda fell on the couch and watch the dominant redhead standing over her, her thick cock hard throbbing in the air. She hummed softly and grabbed her huge cock and guided it to her glistening cunt hole. "Fuck me hard! I need it so bad! I'm all wet and ready for you!"

For a moment Wanda couldn't believe what she had said, after all, the woman before her was her mentor. But her emotions and her urgent needs were too much for her, and at the moment she just wanted to get fucked by Natasha's huge cock.

"Tell me who do you belong to? Come on I want to hear you say my name!." Natasha had a seductive smile on her face , her hand wrapped around her throbbing prick.

"To you. Only you." Wanda replied shakily and noted the delight in Natasha's eyes as she guiding her prick and inserted the bulbous cockhead between the lips of her pussy. Seeing the lustful expression on Wanda's blushed face, Natasha slowly shoved the inch after inch of her thick cock into her warm tight pussy.

"Ohhhh! Fuck!!" Wanda had to closer her eyes and moaned as Natasha lunged forward, sending her thick cock deeply into her. She was enjoying the new stimulation so much but she thought that she was going to be split in two by Natasha.

Natasha groaned and pulled back for a moment and gave the gorgeous witch a moment to adapt the size before she fucked her. Wanda was shaking up and down as Natasha slowly withdrew her cock till only the tip remained, then she slide it in and out. Slowly she began to stablish a constant hard rhythm.

"Ohhhh goddd!" Wanda groaned in delight, for the hard thrusts she began to have delicious effects on her semi-naked body. She couldn't believe the sensations that were filling her body. The initial discomfort was vanishing and turning into pleasure as the veiny shaft was slicing through her inflamed and glistening folds.

"Oh, baby! You're so tight and hot for me!" Natasha growled and began to speed up her thrusts. She smiled as she felt Wanda's quivering legs raise up and encircle her ass. Wanda was also smiling but mostly groaning as her feminine hips rose to meet each of her hard thrusts.

Holy shit! Wanda had never been more excited. Natasha was satisfying her more than any person in the world. Natasha was hitting all the sweet spots within her as goosebumps covered her skin.

"I'm cumming! Oh Natasha! I'm cumming!" Wanda giggled happily as her body began to shiver. Her nails raked across Natasha's strong back ass as she pulled her closer. "Cum in me! Oh yes! Give it to me!" She moaned in ecstasy as her drooling pussy convulse and tingle. All the situation was amazing. Her body was burning with intense happiness, her sticky pussy juices ran down onto her inner thighs. Natasha continued fucking her with a devilish smile on her face.

Wanda she was ready to cum again. She climaxed twice in the previous fifteen minutes, but she was ready to cum again. What an incredible experience! Natasha was grunting with eyes closed and pumped her prick into her spasming pussy. Wanda squealed in delight at the sensation. She wanted to feel Natasha's semen filling her pussy and painting her depths..

"Oh, baby, your pussy is so tight, I'm gonna shoot all my cum into you!" Natasha growled as she began to fuck faster into her pussy. "Would you like that?"

"Ohhhh yesss!!" Wanda groaned in delight and closed her eyes, loved the way Natasha was forcing her huge prick into her, each penetration was delicious, splitting her in two and leaving her breathless. Her own orgasm was building and ready to explode like a super nova.

"Faster, baby! ... Fuck me harder and faster!" Wanda was giggling as Natasha give her a few rough thrusts into her cunt and then a torrent of semen exploded from her aching prick. "Oh that's good! Mmmm!" Wanda babbled, her words came out in short heavy breaths. She felt the warm semen filling her and then her tingling pussy dephts around Natasha's cock. For a moment Wanda wished she would never stop cumming as her own orgasm engulfed her body. Wanda was shaking violently and struggling to breath, feeling Natasha's semen ran freely out of her pussy and down her ass.

Finally, Natasha kissed her on the lips and pulled off her semi hard prick "If you don't mind I'd like to continue exploring that kinky side of you little witch."

"I don't mind at all." Wanda laughed tiredly. Her first fuck with Natasha made her eager to repeat more experiences with Natasha. Just having this woman to satisfy the intense desires in her. At the end of the day her 26th birthday turned out better than expected.

#wandanat #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #scarletwidow #anon ask #thanks anon!#wandanat smut #g!p natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanov #wanda x natasha #natasha x wanda #widowpunx writes #widowpunx smutty mode

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maxislvt · 2 years ago

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Hi, I love your work!

Could I request a fic where Dark!Wanda asks reader to marry her and reader says no?

Thank you!

warnings: kidnapping, implied smut at the end

this is defo inspired by @natsarrownecklace and @mywitchy-assassin and their princess Wanda fics in a way so if you like this stuff please go check out what they have !!

When you were growing up, your parents made it very clear to you there was a target in your back.

You were the sole heir to one of the most powerful and richest kingdoms in the world. Anyone from your lady in waiting to other royals you danced and shared meals with could've been out for you. Even as a child, there were attempts on your life and king trying to trap you in loveless marriages to their children barely half a year old. Where your mother decided to coddle and protect you from your royal duties and, your father insisted you'd only be truly safe if you learned at an early age. The hot and cold mix made you rather good at keeping yourself safe. Your mother taught you to listen to your heart and saved you from numerous empty marriages and your father taught you to sniff out the liars and criminals trying to take advantage of you.

All that training seemed to have been for nothing considering the situation you found yourself in one busy Friday morning. Your schedule was packed full and you were needed in nearly a hundred different places by nightfall. During the carriage ride to a fitting appointment, your coachman took a rather long detour. You noticed almost immediately but the doors had magically closed shut and he wouldn't respond to a word you'd said. Though you had built up enough anger to behead the man driving with the dagger in your pocket alone — you suddenly fell asleep during the ride.

You awoke hours later in what you originally mistook for your own bedroom. However, the blanket of snow clinging to the ground outside told you otherwise. The door was locked and you were much too high to jump. You spent hours searching for some sign of where you were. Thankfully, someone came to your recuse — or so you thought.

The door opened to reveal a woman you'd never seen before. Her crown was strange. What seemed to be two parts. One traditional and gold decorated with local jewels but the other made of a material you couldn't quite identify. If you weren't trapped, you would've asked what it was.

"I believe you have mistaken me for someone else, I am not supposed to be here." You tried to remain calm. There was no telling what happened while you were passed out. Maybe this woman saved you. Maybe she was your capture.

For a moment, the woman just stared at you. Her expression was soft and curious as she took in your presence. "There was no mistake. I am Wanda Django Maximoff, queen of Sokovia , and you're going to be my consort." The smile on her face was cat-like. Cute, but not easy to decipher. "I know this isn't like what you're used to back home but-"

"My father and mother handle my suitors, I am in no place to accept a proposal without their permission," You said boldy cutting her off. You had lost count of how many times you said that. It technically wasn't a lie. The agreement between your parents was that they had to vet your suitors. Then, it was your choice to continue the relationship. "I don't want to speak on his behalf, but I assure you my father will not take too kindly to you kidnapping his only child." The words left your mouth filled with venom. "Where is my coach driver? If I return home unharmed, the consequences will be fair."

Wanda's smile fell. "I'm well aware. It was your mother who insisted that I was too old for you and didn't even bother giving me a chance." She signaled for the guards behind her to leave the room. She stepped closer to you. The corners of her mouth twitched when you stepped away from her. "Sokovia is the richest and strongest of your allies, isn't it only fair you give me a chance? Even if not for love, for your people?"

Wanda's proposal fell on deaf ears. All you could think about was escaping. Sokovia wasn't that far from your home country. The land in between was under the rule of King Anthony. Though you'd never hear the end of it, he was your safest bet as far as getting home.

"The stables are at the very back of the castle grounds. There's no way you'd reach them and even if you did my men would shoot down your horse in minutes. Then, you'd be right back here."

Your eyes widen. You'd heard gossip of the queen of Sokovia being a witch, but brushed it off as metaphorical. "For a woman that can read minds, you sure have a hard time telling when you're unwanted." You almost immediately regretted those words. Hot magical ropes wrapped around your body and forced you to the ground. A deep breath escaped through your nostrils. You weren't going to give her the satisfaction of getting under your skin.

Wanda cupped your chin and forced you to look up at her. "You have your father's sense of humor. I quite like it, but I'm sure we can find much better uses for your mouth than mocking your future wife." A sinister smirk took over her face as her thumb traced your lips. "We'll see how well you talk back with my cock shoved in you."

#panther speaks #anon #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff smut #dark!wanda maximoff #queen!wanda #panthers drabbles

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cemeteryspider · 11 months ago

Text

cemeteryspider's Masterlist

Started: 01/13/24

Last Updated: 08/24/24

Total Works: 49

~~~

The Boys

Hughie Campbell

Family Jewels Series Obsessions Oh No!

DC Comics

Nightwing- Dick Grayson

It's All Fun and Games Lost and Found DCeased: A New Hope

Red Hood- Jason Todd

Come Over Again DCeased: Shadows of the Bat

Gravity Falls

Stanford Pines

Daughter Reader! Family Fractured Part 1 and Part 2

Hazbin Hotel

Alastor- The Radio Demon

Ballet on the Bayou Masterlist Ballet on the Bayou: Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5 Dearie Masterlist Dearie: Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5 Disco Inferno Imagine Being a Lady Dimitrescu-esk Overlord and Being in Love With Alastor

Lucifer Morningstar- Hell's Greatest Dad

Only Human It's Called: Freefall

Charlie Morningstar~ Princess of Hell

I'm the Bad Guy

Helluva Boss

Fizzarolli and Asmodeus~ Hell's Worst Kept Secret

A Helluva Rescue

Verosika ~ Hell's Greatest Rockstar

Unfinished Symphony

Invincible

Invincible- Mark Grayson

Imagine Dating Mark Grayson With Dazzler's Powers Imagine Dating Mark Grayson With Dazzler's Powers Pt. 2

Rex-Splode- Rex Sloan

Rex-Splode Dating Headcanons A Healing Touch Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4 Coming Soon-ish ~ A Healing Touch Pt. 5

Marvel

Black Cat- Felicia Hardy

Chat Noir

The Amazing Spider-Man- Peter Parker

Imagine, Goodnight, Spiderboy Silken Bonds of Alternate Realities

The Scarlet Witch- Wanda Maximoff

House of Us Good Luck, Babe

Quentin Beck- Mysterio

Just a Little Mysterious

Kate Bishop

*NSFW* Be a Good Girl

Madelyne Pryor

Orange Juice

Nightcrawler- Kurt Wagner

The Shadows Redemption Haunting Memories A Feathered Destiny

Gambit- Remy Lebeau

Rooted in Love Genosha Revisited Two of Cups Counting Cards In the Wake of Destruction Part 1 and Part 2

Percy Jackson

Luke Castellan

Strings of Fate: The Puppet-Master

The Walten Files

Sophie Walten

Late-Night Protector

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kjcreed · 11 months ago

Text

The Jewel of Seven Stars | Chapter 3

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Series Masterlist Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Warnings: profanity; illegal transportation (again); shotgun

Pronouns: they/them

Summary: The year is 1954. 9 years after the Second World War ended. Most people in the blooming city of New York should be living pretty peacefully by now. And most of them really are... Well, except for you... And your brother Tony for that matter. Your father was an archaeologist working to uncover the truth about the legend of Queen Nefret and the prophecy that has been engraved on the walls of her tomb which your father discovered with his team. The only problem is that he went missing and now it's your job to find him. But what if you unintentionally become a part of said prophecy? And what if you meet a persistent librarian and her extravagant brother along the way?

Disclaimer: This story is inspired by the 1999 film The Mummy, partly inspired by the book The Jewel of Seven Stars by Bram Stoker and a little by the life of Queen Hatshepsut.

“So… do we know what the first thing we’re going after is?” You heard the voice of the younger twin beside you and when you looked towards her, you watched as she matched her step with yours as the four of you walked through the streets of the port city on the small island.

“Tony and I think it’s probably a talisman of some sort.” You shrugged your shoulders a little. “You do know about the legend of Queen Nefret, right?” You inquired as you glanced at the woman beside you again. She looked strangely enchanting with the colours of the sunset reflecting on her skin. For some reason, you felt like you never wanted to take your eyes off of her.

“Yes… yes, I do.” She nodded in confirmation and looked back up at you. She really wasn’t bad to look at at all. “Well, I think that the talisman could actually be a tyet amulet…” You continue explaining your theory as you look at Pietro and Tony walking in front of you, talking about god knows what.

“The knot of Isis?” Wanda asked and you smiled to yourself at the fact that she actually knew what you meant. When you tried to explain your theory to Tony, he looked at you as if you were crazy for thinking he knew what a tyet amulet was and why it was even relevant.

“Yeah… According to the legend, Nefret was a sorceress. It would make sense for her to use objects associated with Isis… or Aset, if we want to be culturally accurate…” You trail off and look at the girl again. She looked like she was thinking about what you were saying and you could notice the exact moment it clicked for her and you couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“Because Isis is the goddess of magic, amongst other things.” Wanda said with a proud smile and you nodded in confirmation. “Exactly.” You and Wanda looked at each other for a moment and it reminded you of the first time that you met. You got lost in your own thoughts as you looked at the girl and for Wanda, it was the same.

She felt very intrigued by you. Ever since you almost knocked her over the railing of the ship you were trespassing on. For some unknown reason, she was dying to get to know you better. She knew she was looking at you for too long now, but so were you.

She didn’t want to look away. Something about the mischief in your eyes and your unpredictable behaviour pulled her in. It was only when her brother wrapped his arm around her shoulders with a hearty laugh that she snapped out of her haze.

“Are you two nerdy nerds done nerding? Because Tony and I just found us a boat.” The blonde man said with a grin on his face, motioning to the pier you suddenly appeared to be in front of.

Both you and Wanda look away from each other to look ahead towards the sea but before you do, you think you notice something resembling a blush on the girl’s cheeks.

You notice Tony talking to an older guy who had a tobacco pipe hanging from his lips loosely. You watch them for a little while and decide to walk over to them when you see the man get irritated by what your brother is saying.

“No passengers!” You hear the man exclaim when you walk up to them. You pat your brother on his back when the man makes a shooing motion at the both of you and you drag Tony back to where you were standing with Pietro and Wanda. “What happened?” You turn to your brother with an amused smile.

“He was already heading there anyway so I asked him if he could take us with him but he basically told me to fuck off.” Tony threw his arms up in frustration making you laugh a little which earned you a punch in the arm and a glare.

“Well… You know what that means…” A mischievous grin spreads across your face and Tony shoots you a warning look. “No. No way. I’m not doing that again.” He protested, shaking his head dismissively. “What are they talking about?” Wanda asked your brother with her eyebrows furrowed. “They want to sneak onto the ship.” Tony sighed and Wanda raised her eyebrows at you for confirmation and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Oh, because that worked out so well for you the last time.” Wanda commented sarcastically as she put her hands on her hips just like when you got kicked out of the inn. You couldn’t help but find her attempt at being firm rather amusing. “We made it here, did we not?” You snark back a reply with that stupid smile on your face making Wanda scoff in return.

“I dunno… It could be fun.” Pietro shrugged his shoulders and went to stand next to you, making you nudge him with your elbow as a sign of appreciation for being on your side. Wanda, however, gave him an unamused look.

“No. We’re not doing this.” Tony stood his ground and to be honest, you couldn’t really blame him. It’s not every day that you’re being shot at while swimming for your life towards an unfamiliar island.

You also knew that you didn’t have any other option. While you were walking towards Tony and the man you noticed that his ship was the only one on your side of the port and to your luck he was already headed where you needed to go.

“And what else do you want us to do, Tony?” You cross your arms over your chest and give your brother an irritated look. “I don’t know! Wait for another ship or something?”

You shook your head at your brother’s words. “We can’t waste any more time. Did you forget that our father is missing?” The determined look on your face told Tony that there was no way he would convince you otherwise so he just sighed in defeat. “Fine.” He also knew you were kind of right, but he would never admit that to your face.

“What?!” Wanda looked at the three of you bewildered that this was actually going to be your plan. “You cannot be serious-” “Sorry, Wands. Three against one.” Pietro interrupted his sister’s protests and Wanda shot you a glare in return. You gave her a playful smile before focusing your attention on her brother who leaned towards you. “So... how are we gonna do this?”

“Woah. What was that?” Wanda gripped her brother's clothes as the wooden floor under your feet shook a little. “That means we’re off.” You say with an excited smile and look around the small storage room you managed to sneak into while the owner wasn’t around.

You waited there for about an hour before the man finally set sail and now the four of you were crammed inside what you were sure to be the smallest room on the ship. If you could even call the man’s vehicle a ship. It was something between a ship and a boat really…

“Get comfortable because this is going to take a couple of hours…” You say, the smile not leaving your face and Wanda and Tony let out small groans of dissatisfaction.

Earlier when you got to the storage room, it was pitch black in there. Luckily you managed to find two small candles and Tony always carried a lighter in his pocket. It wasn’t much, but the dim light that illuminated the room just added to the atmosphere.

The four of you sat on the ground, surrounding the only source of light you had. You used the time you had to get to know each other a little bit better. You found out that Pietro and Wanda were originally from a small country in Central Europe called Sokovia but moved to America with their parents when they were little kids. You and Tony told them about your father and his research along with a few anecdotes from your childhood.

Tony and Pietro were engaged in a conversation about Tony’s projects and how he was working to be an electronic engineer and you were just pondering about the journey ahead of you when Wanda sat a little closer to you and pulled your dad’s book out of her satchel.

“I forgot to give you this back…” She handed you the book and you looked at it before looking back up at her. “So you’re not mad at me anymore?” Your teasing smile made Wanda annoyed a little bit but she still had to hold in a giggle threatening to escape her lips.

“I am…” She replied but you could see in her eyes that she didn’t really mean it. Annoyed? Yes. But mad? Very unlikely. “But I’m not a thief.” She tilted her chin upwards a little and you were amused, to say the least. You looked at the book before pushing it slightly away from you.

“You can hold onto it if you want.” You say and give her a more sincere smile this time. She was a little taken aback by your offer but accepted it nonetheless. “Thank you.” Her voice was quieter than before and she looked away from you a small smile grazing her lips.

You noticed she had a really nice smile. The girl was very pretty overall but her smile might be your favourite feature of hers yet. You got lost in the way the light from the candle reflected in her greenish eyes and it took you a moment to reply to her. “It’s no problem. I have the whole thing pretty much memorised…” You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly. “Wow… I didn’t know you were such a nerd about dad’s stuff.” You heard the teasing voice of your brother making you groan a little.

“I’m not! I was just bored in the house sometimes…” You tried to defend yourself even though you knew your brother wasn’t really buying it. “Oh dad would’ve loved to see this.” Tony nudges you and you roll your eyes. “Shut up, Tony.” Your cheeks were starting to have a faint red tint to them and you could feel it. That’s why you tried to change the subject as quickly as you could. Wanda thought it was amusing and kind of adorable.

“Can I look at the map from the book real quick?” The fond smile that was playing on Wanda’s lips fell as soon as those words left your mouth. You notice the girl exchange a worried look with her brother and it makes you furrow your eyebrows while you look between the two of them. “What?” You quirked your eyebrow at the twins.

“Well… Uh… We…” Pietro’s stammering induced an unpleasant feeling in the pit of your stomach. “We… kinda burned it.” You and Tony looked at each other with wide eyes before you turned to the twins with unbelieving looks. “You what?!” Your voice was a couple of octaves higher than normal and you stood up from your spot on the ground.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You couldn’t believe what you just heard. The only thing that could actually lead you to your lost father was gone. Burned to a crisp. Just like that. Sure… You somewhat remembered the locations that were marked on the map… But what if you’re wrong? And this whole thing goes to shit?

“Y/N… You need to calm down…” The voice of your brother stopped you from spiralling for a moment. “Calm down?” You snap back at your brother and Wanda and Pietro exchange worried glances. “Just sit down before-” Your brother was cut off by the sound of the door opening and a shotgun being loaded. You froze in place and slowly turned around only to be faced with the owner of the boat pointing a shotgun at your stomach. “Fuck…”

“Easy there, cowboy.” You say with your hands up as the man shoves you forward with his shotgun. “You want to get shot in head?” He said with a foreign accent, probably Spanish if you had to guess, as he raised the weapon at you.

You feel someone step on your foot making you wince and when you look to your side you see Tony giving you a pointed look. “Sorry, sorry.” You tell the man quickly and look back at him.

“I say no passengers. You not speak English?” You and your companions were huddled together with your arms raised, the man holding you at gunpoint on the deck of his ship.

“We’re really sorry, but we needed to get to Isla de Los Despiertos. We’re looking for my father and we had no other choice.” You explain. Your voice is a little shaky from nervousness since you could be shot dead any second.

The man slowly lowers his weapon and tilts his head at you. “So you not tourists?” He inquires. You and your companions exchange confused glances at the question. When you don’t reply, the man raises the shotgun again, making you become alarmed once again. “No! No, no. We’re not tourists!” You respond quickly and the man squints his eyes at the four of you, scanning you from head to toe.

You breathe out a sigh of relief when the man lowers his gun with a grumble. “I hate tourists.” Wanda and Pietro look at each other in amusement as they hear him exclaim. The man puts his gun down and crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at you again.

“Why you want to go to Isla de Los Despiertos?” He quirked an eyebrow at the four of you. It was Wanda who spoke up this time. “We are searching for an amulet… it should be somewhere in the ruins of Amfazar.” She explained, remembering the name on that little piece of the burned map. You were a little surprised by how confident her tone of voice was. You liked this side of her.

The man stared at her for a long moment before he suddenly burst out laughing. And it lasted for a while. He only stopped once he noticed that the rest of you weren’t as amused as he was. He looked back at you and his eyes widened slightly.

“Oh… You serious?”

Author's Note

Heyo! Back at it again with another chapter I hope you enjoy. Thank you so much for the likes, reblogs and positive comments on this series, dear reader! Isla de Los Despiertos is supposed to translate to Isle of The Awakened from Spanish, just to clear things up... You'll hopefully find out what that means in the next chapter :)

Thank you for reading and see you again soon!

Series Masterlist Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

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