#nun wanda

[fandomnerd9602]

Y/N sits in confession with Father Wong…

Y/N: forgive me Father for I have sinned

Wong: whatever it is, my child, it’ll be fine.

Y/N: well Wanda and I were-

Wong: oh no! Look I know Wanda was a nun before but you and her are married. You don’t have to seek absolution for your marriage life.

Y/N: what about how Wanda and I did this particular position known as-

Wong: I don’t want to know. You are forgiven. Now go.

Y/N walks out to find a smirking Nun!Wanda waiting for them…

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

having corrupting nun wanda thoughts!!! making her pray for forgiveness of her sins right after she begged for her release:(( i love her:((

nun wanda nun wanda nun wanda thank you for introducing this to me lil anon

---

she's on her knees in front of you, her green eyes peering up through her lashes as she places her hands together in a praying motion. she starts speaking, reciting scripture as you nod your approval.

you're seated, your leg between her thighs as she kneels, brushing lightly against her soaking pussy as she rolls her hips against you.

"keep praying, wanda." your voice is low, melodic as it wraps around wanda's ears like a familiar embrace. "pray to your god."

she stutters at the sarcastic tone, watching your eyes dilate as you spread your legs. your pose is dominant, and she can't help but beg as her orgasm rises.

"please, let me come. i'm so close. i just need a little bit more." her whines sound angelic, and you grab the cross around her neck, pulling her closer to you.

leaning in, your lips brush hers as you whisper, "my, my wanda. what would your god say if he heard you now?" you smile darkly as she whimpers, prayers falling from her lips as she moves her hips faster.

in a moment of boldness, wanda replies, "god isn't in this room with me, but you are."

you growl, your hand tangling in her hair as you tilt her head upwards. "naughty girl, wanda. you'd better pray for forgiveness after saying that. god won't be happy with you."

green eyes stare at you as Wanda starts speaking faster. you feel her hips stutter and jerk against your leg as she works herself up, her orgasm approaching rapidly.

you sense her desperation, gripping her cross tightly in your palm until its imprinted harshly into your skin. you pull her closer, your lips against hers as she closes her eyes and keeps reciting, speaking rapidly.

"who is your god, wanda?" your voice sounds like heaven, and she thinks she finally understands what it truly means to worship.

green eyes open, utter devotion in them as her prayers halt, all focus on you as you stare at her with the answers to the universe behind your blown pupils.

"you are."

[nattysgirl]

~Secret desire~

Part 2

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, talking about internalized homophobia (kind of)

Word count: 1.7K

A/n: So this is my second fic that I’ve written in my whole life.So I apologize for some mistakes that I may have made and also English is not my first language so I’m sorry if there’s some grammatical errors!

Also, let me know if there’s grammatical mistakes or anything.

Thanks for all your support 🫶

~Secret desire 2

~A week passes by and it’s time for Y/n and Wanda’s next “session”~

As the appointed day arrived, Wanda found herself nervously anticipating their next encounter. Despite the incredible progress she had made during their previous meeting, she was still unsure of what to expect and how far she was willing to go in pursuit of her personal liberation. However, as she entered the dimly lit room where their sessions took place, she felt a sense of familiarity and comfort wash over her, knowing that Y/n would be there to guide her through whatever challenges lay ahead.

Y/n turned around as Wanda entered the room

Wanda approached to Y/n with a mix of apprehension and excitement, her eyes meeting the older woman's gaze with a sense of vulnerability and trust. She had come to rely on her mentor's wisdom and support during this tumultuous journey, and the thought of exploring even deeper aspects of herself under her guidance filled her with both hope and trepidation.

Y/n looked at Wanda with a smile and asked “Hello sister, how are you feeling today?”

She hesitated for a moment before responding, taking a deep breath and mustering her courage. "I am... better than I was last week, Y/n. Your guidance and understanding have been invaluable to me. I feel like I'm making progress, both spiritually and physically." Wanda looked down at her hands, embarrassment and pride warring within her as she considered the extent of her transformation this far.

Y/n looks at Wanda and takes her hand in hers “there’s no need to be shy sweetheart, this is a safe place for you”

At Y/n’s reassuring words, Wanda felt a sense of relief wash over her. She nodded slowly, trusting in the older woman's care and guidance as she placed her hand gently within Y/n’s larger one. "Thank you," she whispered gratefully, feeling a growing sense of connection between them that went beyond mere mentorship or physical intimacy.

Y/n whispers with a gentle but firm tone “It’s okay. So what do you want to do today? There’s no need it has to be sexual, I don’t want to pressure you to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

Wanda smiled gratefully at Y/n’s words, appreciating her genuine concern and respect for her boundaries. She had come a long way since their first meeting, but she still needed time to explore and process her feelings at her own pace. For now, she decided to focus on building a stronger bond with her mentor outside of their more intimate encounters.

Y/n looks at Wanda’s eyes waiting for an answer

"If it's alright with you, Y/n, I'd like to talk more about our experiences together so far. And perhaps share some of my thoughts and feelings regarding my past and present struggles." She bit her lip nervously, aware that opening up to someone outside of her religious community was a daunting prospect but also eager to seek guidance and support from someone who understood her unique circumstances and challenges.

Y/n looked at Wanda with a caring expression “Okay darling, do you want to take a seat?”

Nodding, Wanda sat down across from Y/n and took a deep breath, preparing herself for the emotional journey that lay ahead. She had come a long way since their first meeting, but there were still many hurdles to overcome on her path towards healing and self-acceptance.

Y/n ask curiously “Tell me, what you’re struggling with ?”

Wanda took a moment to gather her thoughts, reflecting on the complex web of emotions and beliefs that had shaped her life thus far. As she began to speak, her voice betrayed both vulnerability and determination - qualities that had emerged through their shared experiences together.

"My entire life has been defined by the teachings of the Church, which view any form of sexual expression as sinful and ungodly. This has left me with deeply ingrained feelings of shame and guilt over my own desires, which I've been taught to suppress and deny. Even now, despite everything we've done together, there's a part of me that fears that I'll never truly be free from these burdens... that my body and its instincts will always be a source of temptation and danger."

Y/‘n gives Wanda a sympathetic expression and whispers “Oh you poor baby…”

Wanda's eyes welled up with tears at Y/n’s compassionate response, grateful for the empathy and understanding shown towards her struggle.

"But at the same time, I've learned that there's beauty and power in embracing our true selves - even if it means facing difficult truths or confronting those who would seek to control us. Through you, I've discovered newfound confidence and strength that I never knew existed within me. And while it may be scary sometimes, I know that ultimately it's worth it."

Y/n encourages Wanda to continue, giving her a simple gesture.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda continued to share her thoughts and feelings with Y/n, finding solace in the older woman's attentive ear and supportive presence.

"Despite everything I've been through, I refuse to let my past define me. Instead, I choose to embrace the person I am becoming - imperfections and all - and to use my experiences as a catalyst for growth and change. Whether that means continuing to explore my sexuality or simply learning to love and accept myself for who I am, I know that I have you by my side every step of the way."

Y/n smiles besotted at Wanda’s response

Smiling through her tears, Wanda reached out to clasp Y/n’s hand in gratitude for the unwavering support and encouragement she had provided throughout their journey together. Their connection had grown deeper than either of them could have imagined when they first met, transcending mere physical encounters to become something truly profound and transformative.

"Thank you, Y/n," she whispered sincerely, "for helping me find the courage to face my demons and for showing me that love and acceptance can conquer even the most insurmountable obstacles."

Y/n whisper softly, “You’re welcome darling, I’m here for you” Y/n leans in and gave Wanda a tight but comforting hug

Wanda returned the hug gratefully, feeling a warmth and comfort that went beyond physical contact alone. It was in these moments of genuine connection that she found the strength to keep pushing forward, determined to create a better future for herself and those who shared her journey towards healing and liberation.

Y/n gently kisses Wanda’s forehead

As Y/n placed a tender kiss on her forehead, Wanda felt a surge of affection and appreciation for the older woman who had become such an important figure in her life. In that moment, it was clear that their bond was one forged not just by physical intimacy but by shared struggles, mutual respect, and a deep understanding of each other's hearts.

"Thank you," she whispered again, "for everything you've done for me - for being my friend, my guide, and my partner in this journey towards freedom

Y/n whispers with a gentle voice “It’s okay sweetie, there’s no need to thank me”

Wanda smiled softly, knowing that words were not enough to express the depth of her gratitude towards Y/n. She cherished the bond they shared and looked forward to continuing their journey together, confident that they would overcome any challenges that lay ahead and emerge stronger and more empowered than ever before.

Y/n leans slowly and kisses Wanda’s lips softly

As Y/n's lips brushed against hers gently, Wanda felt a warm rush of emotion coursing through her veins. Despite the pain and trauma she had endured, she had found love and companionship in this world - a rare gift that filled her heart with joy and hope for the future. Closing her eyes, she savored the moment, cherishing every second spent in Y/n’s company and grateful for the love and support that had transformed her life so completely.

"I love you," she whispered softly, "and I can't wait to see what our next adventure brings."

Wanda gazed into Y/n’s eyes, her own shining with love and gratitude. She knew that their journey was far from over, but she also trusted in their bond and the strength they had built together. Together, they would face whatever challenges came their way, standing side by side and supporting each other along the way. As long as they held onto their love and faith in one another, nothing could stop them from creating a bright and beautiful future together.

"Let's continue our journey," she said softly, "hand in hand and heart to heart. Let us show the world that true love and acceptance can conquer all."

Y/n is taken aback at Wanda’s words, then she whispers softly “I love you too, but we have to be careful sweetheart, two women especially a nun and a father can’t be together.”

Wanda's eyes widened in surprise at Y/n’s words, realizing the potential dangers that lay ahead for their relationship if they continued down this path. While she loved Y/n deeply, she understood the risks involved and knew that sacrifices would have to be made if they wanted to protect themselves and maintain their friendship.

"I understand," she replied softly, "but let us not forget that our love is a powerful force that transcends boundaries and limitations. We have already come so far together, and I am willing to make any sacrifice necessary to ensure that our bond remains strong and unbroken."

Y/n giggles at Wanda’s words “You’re so cheesy, but yeah, I think so” Then she leans and pecks Wanda’s lips

Wanda smiled warmly at Y/n's teasing, feeling a sense of contentment and happiness that she had never experienced before. Despite the challenges they faced, their love remained strong and unwavering, providing them with a foundation of support and comfort that nothing else could match.

"Chessy or not, my love for you is true and pure," she whispered softly, "and I will always stand by your side, no matter what obstacles may arise.

[lifespectator]

Punk Nun

Power bottom nun!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The pretty nun named Wanda ended up with you…

Warnings: no specified gender but reader is AMAB, VERY little plot, mostly smut MINORS DNI, strong language, some angst Ig but hopeful ending.

A/N: I’m back and posting this to proof that visiting Santa Monica Pier at night changes a person lol anyways sorry if it isn’t the best but hope you enjoy it. Also, art not mine so credit to the original artist.

-

Who would have thought?

"I'm eager to see what's under that habit." You eyed up the horny nun as your wish to see her nude body grew more and more with each second, along with the need to touch her.

That pretty innocent-looking nun with short strawberry blonde hair that had crossed a few glances with you on the few times you did attend church would end up in your room—sitting on the edge of your bed, looking at you with lustful eyes.

It happened too fast. You heard a knock on your door, and Wanda stood there, perplexing you. When you thought she would read the Bible to you, she pushed past you with the excuse of wanting to talk to you like you had offered last time. Things went up from there, so you just chalked it up to 'fate.'

A low moan left the nun's mouth, seeing as you removed your black shirt, exposing your bare torso to her. She looked attentively at your body. Looks like your build was eye candy for her.

"I promise to let you touch." You said as Wanda shifted her attention to you. "But for now, you're in my house, so we'll do a ritual." With that, you walked out of the room. The words that had come out of your mouth had only elevated her sensation of need between her legs.

A sin? Yes. An unforgivable one for sure. She had made her vows to the church. But it wasn't her fault. Wanda never wanted to be part of that. Before, she was a typical teen with dreams and aspirations like many others. But one day, her parents told her they had chosen her life path. Why? Because they had some dream that Wanda would become a nexus being that would destroy everything. Pure nonsense, she always thought. Her biggest regret is that she never fought against her parents' decision.

It didn't matter anymore because she was with you now, and no one could stop her.

Wanda removed her loafers before you came back into the room. Carrying a bottle of red wine, you walked towards her and gently laid the bottle on the bed. She couldn't resist having you so close and lifted her hand and ran it over your abdomen. A low gasp left your mouth at her gentle touch.

"Couldn't stop yourself, huh?" You grabbed a part of the fabric of her habit. "Help me a bit." Wanda raised her arms, letting you gently pull it off her, exposing her beautiful body that was only covered by her black panties. Only Wanda's perky tits were exposed but adorned with a silver cross pendant that hung from a matching necklace. From her face down, she was worthy of being described as a goddess.

"The real sin is having you wear this, which doesn't allow me to see such beauty." You lusted, tossing the habit away, and instead reached for her soft breast, caressing them to feel their softness, making her breathing hitched when you rubbed your thumb on her perky tit. "I will have to include this in my thesis now." You teased, squeezing her breast.

"Oh, you're a priest now?" Wanda asked in a challenging tone, pushing your hands off her bust.

Cheeky. Despite not speaking much, Wanda announced she was not as innocent as she looked.

"I ain't no Martin Luther." You grinned, lightly pushing her against the bed and crawling on top of her. "But I'll gladly be your punk monk, my dear punk nun."

You planted your lips on hers as Wanda gave you access to her mouth. She reciprocated, deepening the kiss. Her tongue was swirling with yours. It was noticeable how it wasn't her first "steamy" makeout. How her hands ran from your hair to your back demonstrated how much she wanted this as much as you did. Her soft hands made her touch unique.

You parted your lips from hers and rested them on the tip of her ear.

"I'm going to begin my ritual." A low moan escaped Wanda's mouth, shivering at the feeling of your warm breath next to her ear.

You got off Wanda and kneeled beside her on the bed, grabbing the bottle of wine and opening it quickly. You offered her the bottle first, which she grabbed without hesitation. It was her favorite, after all. The nun took a deep sip of it and handed it back.

She laid back down at your instruction, letting you do as you pleased with her now. You ran your hand through her soft abdomen, preparing to give her the unexpected.

You lifted the wine bottle and tilted it towards her, pouring some of the wine on her belly button. Wanda jolted and let out a high-pitched hiss at the feeling of the cool liquid making contact with her skin.

"It's okay, beauty. You're okay." You comforted the nun. Her glare softened once she heard your words.

When the naughty nun was relaxed again, you lowered your head into her abdomen and sucked the wine that had stained her skin. Some breathy moans left her mouth as you sucked the red wine on her skin, especially at the sensitivity of her stomach. Groans left your mouth at the feeling of her warm skin. You sucked and even licked her skin until there was no trace of any liquid ever being there.

Your hand made contact with her black panties, making your cock twitch when you felt how drenched in her arousal fluids they were. The touch of your fingers on the cotton fabric that separates you from her entrance was enough to make her moan.

"Hurry the fuck up." Wanda cried when you teased her by rubbing your fingers on the fabric.

"What would your fellow sisters say with that vocabulary of yours?" You grabbed her panties from the waist and gently pulled them off her.

"I don't know. You're the one who is said not to worry about what other people say." Wanda raised her legs to assist you in removing her panties.

You passed your fingers on the top of her exposed entrance that was glistening with her wetness. Wanda mouthed a moan. "Nice to know that you do listen to me." You remarked.

Wanda moaned as you rubbed her entrance. "Fuck." She Let out when you started rubbing her clit followed by other curse words. Shaking her legs at the sensation. Her losing control gave you ideas. Without warning, you inserted two fingers into her entrance. Her sudden gasp turned into repeated moans when you started pumping your fingers into her fast. "Just like that." She begged, feeling you increase your pace. "Cum for me, nun." You groaned, feeling her walls tighten around your fingers, followed by a loud moan of hers and then the feeling of her warm fluids coming out of her pussy, getting all over your hand and staining the bed.

You brought your hand up to you and licked off her cum, savoring the taste.

You unbuckle your belt and slide off your jeans, accompanied by your boxers. Finally, let out your hardened cock, twitching at the thought of being inside Wanda.

"Show me how much you wanted this." You lay in the bed, inviting the sex-starved nun to get on top of you. She crawled on top of you, her legs on each side of your thighs. "I'll make you lose control." She smirked, looking down at you. Her confidence in her voice piqued your curiosity and even increased your need for her. "Show, not tell." You countered, also smirking and running your hand through her legs.

Letting out a low moan when you felt her soft hand grabbed your hardened cock and gave it a few slow strokes before aligning it with her entrance. She kept looking down, breathing out moans when she rubbed your tip with her slit and slowly took your whole length. "Ahh." Similar moans and some groans came out of your and Wanda's mouths as she felt your length go deeper while you felt her wet walls around your cock. You melted at the unknown energy she had. Almost as if it was another person.

You were left in a trance as you felt her soft, warm walls surrounding your cock that you overlooked when she bent down to whisper in your ear. "Let me know if you can't handle it." You weren't able to process her words once she started rocking back and forth on your cock at a slow pace to accustom to your size.

"You're a demon in disguise, huh?" You groaned at her sensual actions. Wanda placed her hands on your chest. "Let's find out." She started moving at a faster pace, waves of pleasure going through both your bodies. Wanda whimpered as she repeatedly sank into your cock. The view it gave you was mesmerizing as the way her breasts bounced, which impulsed you into grabbing them again. Kneading and teasing her perked nipples. "Keep going." She encouraged you in a breathy voice, inviting you to do more with her.

Wanting more of her body, your hands left her breast and, out of instinct, reached for her ass and held her with a tight grip stopping her movements.

"You might hurt me," Wanda teased in a raspy voice between breaths, coming to a stop and having an idea of what you were about to do. "Too late to back out now." You stretched her bum a bit before and, with no warning, pumped your cock as deeply as possible into her needy pussy. The noises of your hips hitting hers just right were barely audible as the repeated moans were louder. You continued until another sexy idea popped into your mind.

Out of nowhere, you turned her over and pinned her down on the bed without pulling out of the pretty nun. She yelped at the sudden action and breathed a bit to regain herself. Your eyes locked with hers; she was panting, sweat rolling down her face. Despite your initial thought, she wasn't amused. "You love being deep inside me." She muttered, making you lose any sense of control you had left in you.

You began moving your hips, pushing your cock deep in Wanda as much as you could at a pace that even made the bed creak. Wanda's hands gripped your biceps tightly as you started hitting the right spot. The sound of her moans and skin-to-skin contact pushed you to increase your pace; at the same time, her nails started digging into your skin; you were too lost in the pleasure even to notice it.

The good sensation of her walls clenching on you announced what was coming, so you didn't stop. You wanted to feel every last bit of her like she did of you. Wanda let out a high-pitched moan as you felt her warm juices fall on your cock, announcing her release of pleasure that you had helped build up. You stayed there on top of her, still hard, waiting for her to regain her breath. Needless to say that you were euphoric to release as well, which led you to pull out of her gently, and after giving yourself a few strokes, you reached your high as thick ropes of your cum landed just outside Wanda's entrance and her inner thighs. You Guessed this was the closest to getting to heaven as you can get.

"Fuck.. that was.. was great." Wanda panted, looking up to see you trying to smile while you regained your breath, then gently moved off her to lay beside her. You would follow up on what she said, but she stood up and went to the bathroom. "You alright?" You asked, concerned that you might have hurt her with your roughness. But again, no response from her.

You got up and followed her into the bathroom after sliding on your boxers, where Wanda had gotten one of your towels to clean herself up. You stood there waiting for her to acknowledge you, but she did not react as if you weren't there. You sighed before taking the initiative to break the uncomfortable silence. "Hey." You spoke almost like a middle schooler talking with their crush for the first time.

The nun stopped her actions, looking down after finally acknowledging you. Wanda sighed and looked back up at the mirror in front. "It's just," She gritted her teeth. "Fuck," She muttered, letting the towel hit the floor. "I have to return to my boring life as a nun." Her words expressed impotence and frustration.

You stayed quiet, imagining Wanda's daily torment of being somewhere she didn't want. A literal place that can be a dream killer. Well, you didn't have to. Living in the same old boring town took away your will to live mentally. But it was nothing compared to what Wanda has been through.

"Maybe you don't have to, Wanda," You picked up the towel and put it around Wanda's shoulder to cover her. Your words made her look at you with curiosity and perhaps a bit of hope, which she needed at this time. "Why don't we leave this shitty place together?" You offered, as shock and confusion plastered on her face.

"What do you mean?" She asked, still trying to understand what you had said.

"Fuck whatever we have here. Let's leave somewhere else where we can be ourselves and leave all this behind." You said as you realized what some of her concerns could be. Also, the fact that you barely knew each other. "There is no easy way to explain, but just think about it."

Wanda said nothing but was attentive to your words. She said nothing at first, but the smile that started to creep on her face was enough to confirm that she had already made her decision, and it would be one that would change something for both.

[gingiesworld]

Last Request

Nun Wanda Maximoff x Deathrow GN! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Just smut. We're all going to hell but who cares!!!

Taglist: @cthulhus-curse this ones for you Remi

Everyone who had heard of Y/N Y/L/N feared them, they were one of America's most notorious serial killers. No remorse for the lives they had taken. Even as they stand on Deathrow. Given one last request before they are injected.

"I want to spend my last day with Sister Maximoff." They told the Governor who just laughed.

"Oh, you're not joking." Governor Stark stated as Y/N remained serious. "So you want to pray for the last day." He teased as Y/N smirked.

"Something like that." They smiled at him. Governor Stark just nodded before walking away.

The next day came around, aa did Sister Maximoff and Governor Stark.

"Is this correct?" She questioned him as she held her cross before her. "No inmate has ever requested a Sister on their last day."

"They asked specifically for you Sister Maximoff." He told her. "I have cleared the floor of guards so they can have their privacy to pray." He unlocked the door and Sister Maximoff walked inside. Y/N was sat on their bed, leaning against the wall. "If they get out of line, you know where the emergency button is." With that he left, locking the door behind him.

"So shall we start praying." She asked them as they smirked. Watching as Sister Maximoff got on her knees.

"You know, I am not really the praying kind." They sneered as they palmed themselves. "But if it helps me to get you to wrap those pretty lips around my cock, I would."

"Is that all you wanted me here for?" She questioned as she looked up at them.

"Well, you are stunning and I would like to spend my last day making you scream my name." They husked out as Sister Maximoff shook her head no. "Isn't it your job to help those in need?"

"Yes but not like this." She rose to her feet. "I took an oath."

"To help those who asked for it." They reminded her. "I am asking for your help Sister Maximoff." They started to pull their pants down. "You can't be denying a dying person their last wish."

"You're a murderer." She whispered as they approached her. Her eyes never leaving their semi hard cock.

"A dying person all the same." They gripped her hand, moving it towards their cock. Sister Maximoff closed her eyes as she felt them twitch and harden under her touch.

"I shouldn't." She whispered as her breathing increased rapidly.

"But you want to." They sneered as her hand instinctively wrapped around their member. She only answered by moving to her knees and moving her head forward. Her lips touching their tip, pressing a light kiss. Y/N removed her head dress and gripped her hair which was wrapped in a tight bun. Pushing their cock through her awaiting lips.

"Fuck Sister." They groaned as she used her tongue to run over their sensitive tip as they pulled out to thrust their hips again. The saliva in Sister Maximoff's mouth built up the more they fucked her mouth. Using her to their needs.

"I'm getting so close." They grunted as they continued, thrusting their hips faster as Wanda tasted everything. Moans of sin leaving her lips, she loved every moment of it as her tight virgin hole grew wetter by the moment. "You're going to swallow every last drop." They groaned as they continued their movements, increasing their speed as they chased their high. When they came Sister Maximoff swallowed every last drop before they pulled away, loosening their grip on her hair. Wanda stood up and tried to relieve the pressure between her thighs as Y/N smirked at her. "Are you all sticky down there?" They pointed to her already soaked core.

"Yes." She whispered shamefully.

"Do you want my help?" They asked her as she shyly nodded.

"I need you to take this off." They played with the hem of her gown before Wanda hesitantly took it off. Leaving her in her undergarments. "You are soaked." They groaned as they ran their fingers through her folds. She closed her eyes as they applied pressure to her clit. "I am going to give you the best first time." They lay her down on the bed, inserting two fingers making her moan. "Fuck Sister Maximoff. Who knew you were such a slut." They massaged their member to hardness with their free hand as they added a third finger.

"Oh God." She moaned as they curled their fingers.

"No God." They whispered as they pulled their fingers out of her. "Just me." They groaned as they bottomed out inside of her, making her whimper as her hyman broke. "I'm going to move now." They told her as she nodded.

They thrusted their hips like there was no tomorrow. Well in their case, there was no tomorrow. Sister Maximoff gripped their shoulders as they changed angles, hitting her g-spot making her let out a gutteral moan.

"I'm going to pee." She said as she tried to push them away.

"No you're not." They groaned as they twitched inside her. "Just let it go." They whispered as they went faster, helping her through her orgasm as they unloaded their seed within her.

"Wow." She whispered as they smirked at her, cupping her breasts.

"Wow indeed." They looked at the clock on the wall. "And we still have 21 hours left." They smirked before taking a nipple in their mouth. Devouring Sister Maximoff like she was their last meal.

[icouldbeyourbigtiddygothgf]

(fic request) pls write this w nun!wanda (if you want) 😵😵😵

to worship and submit | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Being the daughter of the man that leads the church choir means attending the services when you run out of excuses to be anywhere else, but a young woman who's recently joined the parish to become a nun has begun to make your time there worthwhile.

Word count: 7419

Tags: smut, fluff, humour, sacrilege, quite literally fucking in front of a crucifix, even i feel slightly guilty for writing it, strap-ons, rough sex, spanking, slapping, spitting, degradation, praise, daddy kink, mentions of masturbation, sub!wanda maximoff, dom!reader | MINORS DNI

A/N: SO... i did do some research for this fic... but only SOME... meaning some of the info may be incorrect fyi!!!

gif credit to evilly

Every Sunday since your dad joined the church as their choir leader, you’d been making yourself busy in advance just in case he’d ask if you wanted to come to the services. 

You were proud of your dad — really, you were — because he loved music and loved the community the church brought him, and the church was closeby to where your mom worked as an elementary school teacher, so your parents were able to work together when there were community events that involved both the school and the church.

Though, being happy for your dad didn’t mean you also had to be happy when he invited you to the services.

Sometimes you’d attend special occasions like Easter and other holidays and church events wherein your dad prepared his own assortment of music and such for the choir to play, but only because you were there to support him and what he was passionate about — music and community and his family.

Such events were big deals at the church he volunteered at because it was well-known for its large community; the church itself was closely connected to a nearby convent where it had close ties to the nunnery there, as well as having one of if not the most ornate architecture all preserved within a historically-significant religious landmark.

But for the last few weeks, he hadn’t asked you to go with him because he was so busy with the new influx of students joining from the Catholic elementary school your mom worked at; they were all there singing on the weekends for their volunteer hours, but at the very least, your dad said they were still enthusiastic and friendly kids.

So on the morning of one of the very rare occasions in which you hadn’t had anything planned for the Sunday because you weren’t expecting him to invite you as he hadn’t for the last while, your dad invited you to the service.

You could’ve truly made up an excuse and flat-out lied about being busy, but it’d been a while since he asked and you knew he’d been working hard with the new students in his group, so you supposed it wasn’t so much trouble to accept his offer, even if you did groan it out in a superficial fit about having to get out of bed earlier.

It wasn’t that you not being religious had anything major to do with avoiding going to church, because you didn’t entirely mind when your religious parents brought you to the services for special occasions, but rather because you didn’t very much have the patience or sufficient concern for the readings and worship to attend the nearly-two-hour services.

That was truly your most pressing issue with attending the Sunday services with your dad, but today was different, with an unexpected experience to make you dread going even more than you did previously.

“Excuse me?” a timid, unfamiliar voice chirped from behind you.

You turned to see a young woman standing by the doorway of the back hall where the entrance to the choir balcony was. 

Typically, you sat around there when your dad was conducting because you weren’t very involved in the church enough to sit at the pews nor were you part of the choir. 

But from where you were sitting, you weren’t entirely uninvolved as you could still see and hear the services — it was the perfect spot. 

“You aren’t allowed to sit here,” the young woman told you, running the pads of her two fingers along the edge of her sleeve. 

Her dark brown hair was neatly pulled back into a conservative bun and she was wearing a black plain dress with a modest plain scoop neckline to show the buttons and collar of the crisply-ironed long-sleeved white blouse underneath that all of the church’s nuns wore, but the simplicity of her outfit and the uncovering of her hair meant to you that she was presently studying at the church to become a nun. 

“I’m the choir dude’s daughter,” you said with a polite smile and looked away, expecting for your response to be all the elaboration she needed. 

In a way that was subtle with the intention not to be offensive but in that very manner was offensive in itself because of how irritating her caution was, the woman cleared her throat. 

“I-I know,” she pressed, “but this area isn’t open for seating. For anyone.”

When you didn’t answer for a moment as you stared at her, she quickly said, “I’m sorry. They told me to tell you.”

“I’ll find a spot in the pews,” you answered and collected your things. 

From the corner of your eye, it seemed that she wanted to offer a seating alternative just to make up for what she was forced to tell you, but there wasn’t very much else she could offer. 

That Thursday, you were back at the church to pick up an ironed uniform for your dad; it was for a special event set for the upcoming Sunday, and the church pressed it for him and everything. 

It was a nice gesture.

They were nice people.

On Thursdays, there were only morning services and events for children in another spacious room where they could colour and play with the church’s team leaders and nuns. 

But in the afternoon — which it now was — there wasn’t anything going on. 

When you arrived, the church was still and warm with gentle sunlight shining through the stained glass windows and casting a myriad of colours against the pews. 

You looked over your dad’s text again and walked through the directions he told you to take to get to the back halls of the church, just a few turns from the stairway that led up to the choir balcony. 

The room where you were to pick up the uniform was as pretty as the rest of the church; it was a small prayer room with a pedestal and stained windows and red carpeting, but it was much cozier and probably hadn’t been used for prayer for the group size it was designed for in a little while.

You could see through the glass door the folded uniform for your dad on the windowsill behind the pedestal with a name tag placed on top of it ready for pick-up along with a few other clothes for some other church volunteers. 

Upon entry, you closed the door quietly behind you and stepped into the room where you could now see a small table by the window and a familiar young woman sitting with a notebook, jotting a few things down from what looked like a leather-bound book. 

“Can I just get my dad’s uniform from there, or do I need to sign it off or something?” you asked, announcing your presence. 

She looked up from the notebook and at you then to the uniforms on the windowsill. 

“Oh, you’re…” She paused and thought for a moment. “The choir conductor’s daughter?”

“Yeah.”

“I can sign it off for you,” she replied and smiled. 

She stood from the table and walked around it to the uniforms, where a piece of paper was set beside the line of neatly-folded clothes.

You watched as she jotted down a few things onto the paper with a pen before carefully picking up the packaged uniform and turning to hand it to you.

“Thank you,” you answered. 

“Of course. Have a good day,” she replied and bid you a goodbye before heading back to the table by the window. 

You were on the way to leave the room, but you couldn’t, for some odd reason, take your eyes away from the way she lowered herself into her seat and resumed her notetaking. 

She didn’t notice when you changed your direction and walked towards the table she was sitting at until you were perhaps just a metre away from her, when she then looked up from her notes and up at you. 

“Did I give you the wrong uniform?” she asked, worried and now standing up from her chair. 

“No,” you answered quickly and waved your hand.

She stayed standing, curious as to why you walked back. 

“Hard at work?” you asked, pointing at her notebook. 

Confused for a moment, perhaps by your curiosity in speaking with her, she looked over to her notebook and then back at you with a friendly smile, “Yes, a little. They gave me something to study from. I’m just taking notes.”

Carefully, you reached forward and spun her notebook around so you could read it. 

Her curiosity seemed to spike when you leaned forward to read her notes, and she looked at you with a small smile. 

“Um,” she started awkwardly. “I want to apologise for earlier this week. For making you move seats.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you replied and looked up from her notes to smile at her reassuringly. “I know they just made you tell me because you’re new.”

The young woman seemed reassured, her shoulders even relaxing a bit when you said it. 

“You’re still… What do you call it? Like, you’re studying to be a nun here? Not fully one yet?”

She shook her head. 

“Yes, I’m in the study period before becoming a novitiate,” she answered. 

Your fingers ran over her delicate handwriting, feeling the indentations of her pen against the paper.

“To worship and submit,” you read aloud from the notebook. “Fascinating.”

She caught onto your twinge of sarcasm but approached it with humour, laughing a little and conceding, “It is a bit medieval, but an important quality, I’d presume.”

Reflecting suddenly on how young the woman seemed much younger than the other nuns, you asked her, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

She was a bit older than you, but still quite young.

Her hair was down now, though still neatly brushed and free of frizz and tucked behind her ears. She was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and an ankle-length black skirt patterned lightly with gardenias. 

“How did you get into wanting to be a nun, anyhow?” you asked and moved your attention away from the notebook and towards her. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“I-I don’t?” she inquired, almost sounding nervous at the implication that she wasn’t training herself properly. 

“I mean, pious and submissive — sure,” you said, referring to her notes, which made her seem a bit flustered, “but not like a nun.”

She questioned curiously, “More like…?”

After humming aloud in thought, you turned to her with your hip laying against the edge of the table and suggested, “Elementary school teacher. Vet. I don’t know, something like that.”

She was pretty — truly. 

Cute, even. 

“When I was younger, I wanted to be a vet,” she told you, smiling sweetly. 

“Changed your mind?”

“Younger as in quite young, perhaps around ten,” she recalled. “My parents are both rather religious and ever since I turned fourteen it’s always been their intention to have me join a congregation.”

Interest piqued, you asked, “And your intention for yourself was…?”

“For myself?” she repeated as if taken by surprise. 

You nodded once. 

She paused for a moment to hum thoughtfully before saying, “I was happy to follow whichever path my parents intended for me.”

“You find passion in nunnery?” you asked. “Genuine question — not judging.”

“Of course,” she answered. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you quickly checked it to see that your dad had messaged asking if you were able to pick up his uniform.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been holding you back from something,” the woman apologised and stepped to the side to allow you to leave.

Sliding your phone back into your pocket and adjusting your dad’s uniform in your hand, you replied, “No, not at all. My dad’s just impatient. I should get going now though, since here’s a few errands I have to run before noon.”

She nodded in understanding. 

“It was nice being able to talk with you,” she then said. “I haven’t been able to talk with very many people since I came here. It’s all just been about studying and the church.”

Before you left, you made sure to ask for her name, to which she replied telling you it was ‘Wanda.’

Cute name.

It’d been quite a while since you ever attended the services two weeks in a row. The last you did was during the last half of August the first year your dad started conducting the church choir, during which you had nothing else to do but wait for classes to start — so you went to the services.

This time, because the church was celebrating something special, your dad asked both you and your mother to attend the service because he’d been working on preparing a set of songs for the occasion.

Under the guise of being a supportive daughter, your parents did second guess why you were so willing to attend the service this week, nor did they ask if there was a certain individual you were perhaps a bit excited to see again.

Truthfully, you couldn’t stop thinking of Wanda since you last saw her a few days ago. There was much to her you felt laid dormant and sleeping, awakened only just in the slightest during the conversation you had with her. She was kind and curious, but also painfully naive. 

She was a few years older than you but knew far less about the truth of her own ambitions and strayed perhaps not even a foot’s distance away from behind her parents’ shadows.

Wanda was interesting, but intrigued you for far too long for her to be only that. Though you couldn’t very well figure out what it was about her that made her bounce around in your head like a pinball until an unassuming evening.

It was sincerely an unrelated act when you first started, travelling your hand down between your legs in the silence of the evening to relieve yourself of the pent-up stress from classes that’d come over you during the last few days.

Truly, it was completely unrelated to Wanda and anything and everything about her when you started, and even during, until you reached your peak of release and found your imagination flashing with curiosities about what she looked like under her garments, how she’d squeal if you spanked her ass and if she’d like it, or how she’d cry out in sheer pleasure if you forced her down and made her take her spankings regardless.

For a moment afterwards there was guilt, but every day onwards there was curiosity, wondering for hours about what you’d seen when you reached that point of pleasure during which Wanda was your only muse.

You’d like to tell yourself it was only that curiosity that guided your willingness to attend the service with your parents, but it was something else entirely too — something completely carnal.

For the first hour of the service, Wanda was still nowhere to be seen. Because of the church’s connections with its convent, the nuns had a large role in some of the day-to-day happenings, but mostly during important church events like what you were presently attending.

Wanda wasn’t a nun yet; she was yet to be even a novitiate as she had mentioned, and so perhaps she just didn’t get to attend events like these. 

Though you personally found that counter-productive, you weren't one to complain about the convent’s decisions, but you did wish you got to see Wanda.

If she wasn’t one to be able to attend such events, when would you see her next?

After coming to the realisation that you probably just weren’t going to see her today or perhaps even for a little while, you excused yourself after having been present for nearly all of your dad’s song arrangements and with enough time to be able to be back from the washroom with well-enough time to catch the rest of his songs.

To your surprise, you saw the very woman who’d been on your mind for the last hour was sitting in the hall by the stairway that led up to the choir balcony. She was wearing the same outfit as she had been the first time you met her, with her hair done up in the same way too.

“Excuse me, but you aren’t allowed to sit here,” you teased, approaching from the right and walking into the hallway.

She quickly swiped at her eyes and began to apologise before she raised her head and saw it was you who had spoken to her, and you who now stood beside the bench she was sitting on.

Though she smiled and seemed relieved and happy to see you, you could tell that she’d just been crying — alone in this hallway away from the service and the nuns and sitting at the far end of the bench so as not to be seen by the people attending the mass.

Wanda stood, running her palms down the sides of her dress with a friendly smile while saying, “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” you answered distractedly as you focused on the slight redness of her eyes and the tip of her nose. 

You then asked once you were sure she’d been crying, “Are you okay?”

Suddenly feeling self-conscious after realising it must've been obvious that she’d been crying, Wanda carefully wiped under her eyes again and even tried making herself seem less dishevelled by tucking her hair behind her ears before you took her hands away from her face and made her stop fidgeting with her appearance.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” you pressed.

Dismissively as to not bring any more attention to herself, she told you, “It’s really nothing. It’s nothing to bother you with.”

“I wanna be bothered,” you answered lightheartedly. “Come on.”

Wanda smiled at your gaiety and you urged her to tell you what was wrong once more before she finally exhaled in surrender though she didn’t sit down before speaking, implying that in spite of the fact of giving in to you, she wasn’t very well planning on delving too deep into what had been bothering her.

“Earlier today, I had accidentally misplaced the leather book I’d been studying from — the one you saw me with a few days prior, if you can remember,” she said. “And I was scolded terribly for it. It was quite deserving as it was an important collection of notes and such, so I do not question from where my scolding had come, but it seems to me that all I’ve done since I started here is get myself in trouble with the other nuns.”

Here, you tried taking her hand and urging her to sit down, but she wouldn’t, and slipped her fingers out of your hold.

“They found the book in one of the small prayer rooms I’d been studying in, so at the very least it was not a mistake of ruining the integrity of the book by losing it completely, but rather the very principle of having been given something so important and misplacing it,” she continued.

Wanda swallowed and seemed to be contemplating whether to go into more detail, and you could tell that there was something else that had been bothering her that didn’t exactly have to do with misplacing the book.

Before she had the chance to make a decision, there was a passerby who came from the service in search of the restrooms, which interrupted Wanda’s train of thought as she and the man exchanged a brief hello.

“We can go somewhere else,” you offered, taking her hand and heading down the hallway with her. She didn’t take her hand away from you this time, but instead told you that she only needed time to be on her own and that she was fine now. 

The only other place you knew was the prayer room you picked your dad’s uniform up in, and fortunately it was unlocked.

You ushered Wanda into the room and she smiled at you from behind and you led her forward to one of the front seats in front of the altar, regarding you with admiration for the effort you put into wanting to express your concern for her and make sure she felt heard. 

The early morning beams of light shone through the stained glass like they had that afternoon you’d come here a few days prior, but the room was far less stuffy now, familiar and almost reminiscent of something nostalgic. 

The feeling could easily be because of the fact that you’d been envisioning what you could remember from it nearly every hour since that past Thursday, with the room in the background of your mental portrait of Wanda. 

She settled down in the seat beside you, feeling encouraged more so because she wanted now to be closer to you rather than solely to sit and talk about what had been bothering her. 

But she could partake in the latter if that was what you asked of her — and it was. 

“I know that I hardly know you, but I’ve been here for nearly a whole month and you are the person I feel closest to,” she confessed.

You felt flattered, though you knew telling you that she felt close to you wasn’t exactly the point of why she said that. 

Wanda further reflected aloud, “I’m getting nowhere I’m supposed to, not finding the call to God like both my parents and the nuns told me about though I have even given it plenty of time. I studied English in college and yet can find not even a little interest in my religious readings.”

While she thought in silence for a moment, you didn’t interrupt her. 

When she found the words to verbalise what she’d been meaning to say, she began with a question: “Do you remember when you asked what my own intentions were for myself? On Thursday?”

You nodded. 

“It’s ridiculous, but I can’t even recall the last time I sincerely asked that to myself, but perhaps in shallower terms, such as wondering where I might be in a few years or what I might do with my time in the convent.

“But never what I wanted — never who I wanted to be.”

After a moment, when you were sure she wasn’t trying to find words to express herself nor contemplating whether to say something, you asked, “And do you know who you want to be?”

For a brief moment — half of one, really — Wanda looked thoughtful, and then she said and gestured to her clothing and the prayer room, “Not this.”

“So then, what?” you inquired further. 

You teased, “A vet?”

Wanda giggled and sat back a bit in her seat. “Perhaps if I were ten,” she said. 

Then more seriously, she added, “But now, I’m not very sure.”

“How did you come to realise what you were interested in?” Wanda asked. “For example, your studies. What are you studying?”

She was talking fast, obviously very invested in your conversation together and also rather curious about you. 

You thought that was cute; you liked Wanda. 

“I’m studying philosophy,” you told her to which she straightened and was eager to hear more about. “But with studies, it’s different, because you’re talking about more personal matters. Academics are far different from personal paths.”

Wanda seemed a bit disappointed because she was looking for a definite answer, but what you explained certainly made sense to her. 

She pondered about something then instead asked, “So about personal matters, then. What about those?”

“What about them?”

“Give me a principle to follow,” she sought. “Something I might be able to apply here. Something as general as you’d like it to be, but applicable.”

Her steadily growing smile made it clear that though she was certainly looking for advice, she also thoroughly enjoyed exchanging quips with you and exploring more about you. 

In a way, she was as eager to learn about you than how to help herself, if not more so. 

You hummed thoughtfully and Wanda watched as you were deep in thought. 

“A principle for you,” you said, “could easily be that it’s okay to be selfish, to think only of yourself when you’ve spent so long doing anything else.”

Wanda asked, slightly amused but far more curious, “You recommend hedonism?” 

“To you?”

She nodded. 

You replied, “Indubitably.”

If you hadn’t already been thinking of Wanda in painfully great amounts before that morning, then you certainly were afterwards. 

The third week came around and by then Wanda was banging against every square inch of your skull like an intruder, necessitating the need to be seen and thought of every other minute in any way you could.

Perhaps the relationship you developed with her thus far was one of friendship and nothing more, yet her persistence that never strayed too far from your mind seemed to you that she had become reminiscent of something greater than a platonic figure. 

In any case, you had to muster the ability to ask your dad in the most nonchalant manner you could if it were possible for you attend Sunday’s service. 

You did it in a way that did not make it seem to him that you were about to become a familiar face in the church, but rather that someone had simply happened to ask you for help during the last service and wondered if you might be able to attend the next — which is quite literally what you told him. 

It wasn’t a lie. 

Not even when you said that it was a young woman who was studying to become a novitiate at the convent that was curious about the choir and the other volunteers and had asked you about it last week, because Wanda did truly ask about the choir and the other people who volunteered at the church once. 

But that wasn’t at all the reason why you wanted to attend the service that Sunday. 

“Y/N,” a voice called in a hushed tone when you passed the hallway leading up to the choir stairway where your dad had already walked up towards. 

You slipped away from the people filing into the pews and quickly came to Wanda’s side. 

“Don’t you have places to be aside from fraternising with the guests?” you teased as she took your wrist and led you towards the room you both seemed to like talking in the most. 

“After last week’s ordeal with the book, I’ve been put on some kind of probation from participating in the services so I have more time to study independently,” she told you, not seeming particularly worried.

She added, “On Sundays, the convent is rather empty, so they wouldn’t notice that I’m off not studying. Though I could very well say I chose to study in one of the extra prayer rooms here.”

“And I’m sure they remember how much you love the prayer rooms here,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows at your reference to her having lost the book in one of them. 

Wanda faked a laugh in the driest manner you’d ever heard and you nudged her arm to which she told you to stop joking around with her so she could tell you something important. 

She closed the prayer room door and sat you down beside her. 

From a small bag on the chair to her left, she pulled out a small dictionary. 

Here, you were tempted to make fun of her and ask why she was carrying around a dictionary so tiny, but you recalled that she had wanted to ask you about something serious. 

She flipped open to a page she had bookmarked. 

“Hedonism,” she read aloud. “In philosophy, the belief that pleasure and the absence of pain is the most important principle in determining the morality of an action.”

Wanda looked up at you from the dictionary. “This is what you meant?” she asked. 

You nodded. 

Curiously, you inquired, “Do you agree with it?”

She looked back down to the page in which had written three definitions of hedonism, the third being the one defined by philosophy. 

The first two you could not quite read upside down. 

“I have never heard of it before the time you mentioned it last week,” she said, running her eyes over the words in contemplation, “but it’s interesting.”

“What would be your first endeavour to pleasure, if you had to make a guess?” you asked her.

Wanda ran over the words of the definition again with her eyes, perhaps still deep in thought about it or absently doing so while she contemplated an answer to your question. 

“My first?” she repeated. 

You looked down at the dictionary page now that she was holding it at a slightly different angle that oriented the letters better for you. 

The first definition read, ‘Pursuit of pleasure.’

And the second — you had to tip your head to the side a bit to decipher it — read, ‘Sensual self-indulgence.’

During your deep concentration, Wanda had come to an answer to your question, and it wasn’t until she leaned forward and kissed your unsuspecting lips that you realised she had even stopped looking at the page. 

It was the uttering of her muffled words against your lips that triggered something deep within you, perhaps equally as restrained as her own. 

An unfinished sentence, but one on its own nonetheless. 

‘I want…’ she had uttered, breathless and with one hand cupping your cheek and feeling with the pads of her fingers the softness of your skin. 

With that, you hastily reached forward and grasped at her ass, lifting her from her seat and stripping her down so she was in nothing but her undergarments. 

The paths of your nails streaked red against her pale skin while you devoured her every step of the way, your lips following every inch of skin that became exposed to you while your hands made quick work of unzipping her dress and unbuttoning her blouse. 

She sighed when you kissed her breasts and squeezed your hands around her waist and hips, taking her selfishly and finally spreading her legs and sitting her down in your lap. 

“Are you…” you began between breaths, pausing to figure out your wording and sitting back in your seat to look at her. “Have you had sex?”

Wanda giggled, finding your question amusing. “Of course I have,” she replied and took your hands and placed them on her hips again. 

“Cocky,” you jested, hooking your thumb under the clasp of her bra and releasing it so it snapped against her back, causing her to arch her body into you with a soft gasp. “Thought you might’ve been abstinent or something.”

“I don’t mean to be cocky,” she said in a low voice. “But I am certainly not abstinent.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“Only if you choose to be.”

“I choose to be,” you said with conviction. “So for whom should I be jealous, then?”

“College students.”

You gasped superficially.

“You fuck college students? Exclusively?”

“No!” she laughed. “I mean I haven’t been very active since my time in college.”

“Haven’t had sex since college?”

She corrected, “I didn’t mean that either.”

“So what did you mean?”

“This conversation is like pulling teeth.”

“Why? You want me to fuck you hard against this floor right now, baby?” you asked. The very crudeness of your words, albeit teasing, made Wanda’s breath hitch, and so within that reaction you found her first tell. “No foreplay or anything?”

“This isn’t foreplay?”

“Hardly.”

“Then what is?” she asked though sounding slightly pouty about it. 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re all turned on and impatient from just that. Teasing gets you off?” you pressed. “Didn’t even have to be told how I wanna see your gorgeous ass bruise when I fuck your cunt from behind like you’re my sick little fucktoy whore?”

Her hips twitched. 

“Y/N…” she muttered, perhaps out of impatience or forewarning for how you were teasing her, either way you could not tell and weren’t very rushed in trying to figure it out. 

You pulled her bra down and released one of her breasts, slapping it lightly with your fingers and causing her to gasp before pinching one of her sensitive pink buds. 

There would be no indulging her past what you were willing to indulge; you were careful not to touch her more than what was intentional. 

You bucked your hips up under the guise of adjusting your seating, grinding your stiff cock against the soaking panties which were now beginning to soak your pants. 

Her cunt was sensitive beyond the thin fabric, causing the strap to rub her perfectly through her soft, swollen folds; you could practically hear how sticky she was without even looking. 

“What is that?” she quickly asked, looking down between her thighs. She tried moving back to get a better look, but you quickly held onto her hip with your other hand and pulled her harshly back to her original position, making her throbbing clit rub directly onto your cock. 

A strangled yelp was breathed past her lips. 

“Don’t move unless I tell you to, you understand?” you told her. 

She nodded.

“Everywhere else in this building, there is only one God, but here in this room, I am yours. You will listen to what I tell you and take what I give you, even if it hurts. You’ll be grateful that I make you hurt as much as you will when I give you pleasure.”

In spite of everything, Wanda repressed a tiny smile and said, “You’re scary when you’re authoritative with me.”

You laughed through your nose and replied, “I can get scarier.”

Her smile widened into a grin and Wanda’s hand came to the back of your neck when you leaned forward and kissed her, one arm circling around her waist and carefully slipping her off your lap as you stood from your seat. 

“We’ll get caught,” she voiced concern against your lips.

“Then be the lookout.” 

You made sure she didn’t trip on her way up to the podium, and soon you had her chest laid flat against the lectern and facing the front doors, the shadow of the large crucifix behind the both of you casted against the red carpet from the morning sun shining from behind the stained glass. 

Wanda listened as you unzipped your pants and when she made an attempt to turn her head and look at what you were doing, you put your other hand against her upper back and pressed her back down, reducing her line of sight to your face and shoulder and nothing else. 

Her clothed cunt was prodded at, the stiff tip of your strap finding her hole through her panties and nudging at it teasingly. She groaned impatiently and reached back to take hold of your hand, to grab onto anything and urge you forward.

In response, you spanked her harshly and made Wanda yelp out in surprise and wince.

“You dirty, impatient slut,” you spat.

She immediately whimpered, “I’m sorry, daddy.”

That satisfied something in you that you hadn’t even known you wanted, and you were more than happy to share in that satisfaction.

You hummed and tucked a finger under the waistband of Wanda’s panties, making her twitch impatiently while also doing her best to listen to her orders. Then you laid your hand flat against her lower back, rubbing her supportively and making a warm flush form across her face.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Wanda?” you asked, looking up her bent-over half-naked body to the back of her head.

She nodded.

“Good girl,” she confirmed with a nod.

Gently, you squeezed her ass and danced your fingers up to the waistband of her panties that you finally pulled down, exposing her gorgeous, glistening cunt.

It took just as much resistance from you not to shove your cock right into her as much as it took Wanda to not thrust her hips back and grind her clit against your strap.

“Why don’t you tell me all you’ve been studying about the last little while?” you said, running a hand down her ass and sliding a thumb into her pussy, feeling heaps of pride with the way you slipped inside with no resistance. 

She was incredibly wet and so, so warm.

Distracted by the way your thumb probed shallowly at her hole, giving her just enough pleasure to make her throb but just short of enough to satisfy her entirely, it took Wanda a few moments to regain her focus before she finally asked, “S-Studying? About what?”

“You’re a smart girl, Wanda,” you encouraged, slowly sliding your thumb out and grazing the pad of it lightly over her swollen slit and across the hood of her clit. “Methods on how to be a proper nun. For example, swear yourself to the Lord, abstain from sex, so on and so forth.”

Wanda swallowed and tried her best to focus with the way your thumb began spreading her cunt out, revealing to you the glistening folds of her pussy. She began stuttering and finally squeezed her eyes shut hard enough to be able to recall some of her studies.

“Um, there was…” she uttered and ran her fingers along the edge of the wooden lectern, “living in modesty; not showing off one’s body in any crude manner, not partaking in pleasures of the flesh.”

Three of your fingers began rubbing slow circles against Wanda’s hole, squelching against her dripping cunt and making her tremble and moan shakily.

“And what next?” you asked.

“I-I can’t… Can’t focus…” she told you helplessly.

Your thumb flicked at her clit and Wanda’s body jerked forward. 

“One more,” you urged. “Come on. Give me one more good one and I’ll fuck you with my cock. You want that, don’t you?”

Intentionally, you began to focus on her clit now, having your index finger graze it as your middle and ring finger slowly began delving in and out of her sticky hole, purposefully making it even more difficult for Wanda to find the words for herself.

“I want… I want that,” she shuddered, hanging her head and squeezed her eyes shut again.

“So, then, give me one more.”

Wanda’s breathing deepened as she tried her hardest to focus. 

With every intention to make it more difficult for her, you reached up with your other hand and pulled her bra down, allowing you access to knead her breast and feel her nipple harden against the palm of your hand.

She whimpered into her arm and bit down on her bottom lip.

You stepped forward and removed your fingers from her cunt to rub the length of your strap through her pussy, wet fingers taking hold of its base and running it through her swollen folds.

“A-Ah, Y/N, please…” she mewled, though neither of you were quite sure whether she was begging for you to stop and allow her to think thoroughly or for you to have mercy on her completely and just fuck her.

“One more,” you reiterated and aligned the tip of your cock with her entrance. 

You placed both hands on her hips and began pulling her backwards, fucking her shallowly and watching her pussy take your cock with just as much anticipation as Wanda was struggling to withhold.

She hugged around you beautifully and it was truly only the tip; you couldn’t wait another moment to fuck her until she was begging for you to fuck her until it hurt.

“A-Another,” she finally trembled out, “is to be, by nature, a woman of submission, to worship your God and seek no amount of personal domination over–”

Fully satisfied with her answer and terribly impatient yourself, your fingernails dug into Wanda’s hips and you jerked her ass back against you, forcing her to take your entire cock in one swift movement.

She cried out and you wrapped a hand around her waist, running your nails down her side and feeling an inexplicable need to mark her, to cause her pain, to reduce her to a whimpering trembling, bruised mess so cock-drunk that all she’d feel for the next three days is the aftermath of being rough-fucked like a slut.

“Hit me, please, daddy,” she begged, wrapping her fingers around the edge of the lectern and arching her back.

So you did — repeatedly. 

You spanked Wanda over and over, having the sound of your palm meeting her ass echo through the room and only reiterating to the both of you how she was much less of a nun or a student or any reflection of purity, but a braindead nympho whore good for nothing but getting her pussy fucked raw.

She was a loud fuck, crying out in whimpers and moans and other strings of partially-comprehensible words telling you how good your cock felt and how much she loved getting fucked by you.

The playing organs and belting choir playing during the service muffled Wanda out, but Jesus Christ, if any of them out there had been able to hear her getting fucked down the hallway, they might just think for a moment that it was the calling of an angel or at least something in some way divine.

But none of them would ever know what it looked like to fuck Wanda from behind, pulling her up with their hand around her neck so you had access to slap her face and spit into her mouth like you could, pinching her clit and fucking her through to her third orgasm.

How beautiful she looked, sweaty and a mess with her long brown hair fanned out and stuck in strands against her back, crying out in equal parts pain and pleasure and finding herself incredibly pleased by being used like a filthy object.

And you’d make sure no one else could get the chance to see the sight but you.

“I’m gonna come again, Y/N,” she cried, breasts pressed against the cold wood of the lectern and arms pressed against her back. “This is my last, please, I can’t take anymore.”

You let go of her wrists and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her from the lectern. She was arched at a slight angle so your arm could assist in continuing to fuck her, but she was now much closer, and she was now able to loll her head back against your shoulder.

“This is the closest thing a slut like you will ever get to heaven, angel,” you told her, kissing her temple. “Make your God proud and come on my cock, filthy bitch.”

Wanda reached back and held onto you for support while her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parting as a silent cry escaped her, her third and final orgasm coming over her without mercy.

You squeezed at her breast and leaned your head down and bit at her shoulder and up the back of her neck, getting in as many markings of your ownership as you could.

She sighed out and uttered your name, to which you ran your hands up her stomach, one hand moving up to her face and gently tilting her head over so you could kiss her lips.

Her knees buckled out and you carefully set her down on the floor before sitting down beside her. Wanda panted heavily into your chest, one hand on your knee and the other arm wrapped around your shoulder. 

You had your arms around her waist, rubbing her back supportively and whispering in her ear words upon words of how beautiful she looked, how good she’d been for you, then soon confessing how much you’d been thinking of her over the last few weeks, how much of your mind she occupied and how much of your time you spent thinking of her.

Wanda liked hearing that last part most, but she particularly enjoyed when you told her how it felt to masturbate to her, to imagine her looking up at you and choking on your cock at your final point of release, and how really being with her was plenty more enjoyable and, quite frankly, more beautiful than you ever could’ve fantasised about on your own. 

The both of you were on your knees, sweaty with the labour of sex and kneeling in each other’s arms at the foot of the towering crucifix, whispering and giggling to each other all the equally sweet and dirty confessions you could exchange before the service was over.

[hubristicassholefight]

Swordswoman Showdown Round 2 Part 1

Allison Ruth (Kill Six Billion Demons) vs Ava Silva (Warrior Nun)

(Better here in a "preferred character" sense, not "who would win in a fight")

Propaganda below cut

Allison Wanda Ruth

She first wields a zweihander but eventually learns to wield the terrible blade of Want; She’s a philosophy major. She’s a barista. She’s from L.A. She’s even a lesbian. Reach Heaven Through Violence

#she's engaging in active dommery at all times#including this very image#there's no way you can't vote allison#anyway#KILL SIX BILLION DEMONS#THE HEIR#WIELDER OF NAMES#SEEKER OF THRONES#KING OF SWORDS!#BREAKER OF INFINITIES#WHEEL-SMASHING LORD#please understand that though Allison is Magnificient#i'm voting her more as a proxy for her teacher; Mathangi ten Meti#auntie maya is maybe my favorite fictional character of all time#and definitely the greatest swordswoman in fiction. to me#but Allison is canonically better at the sword philosophy than she is (lets not talk about the sword-skill)#so like this works#manifesting an Allison sweep

#side character vs main character the levels of depth aren’t even comparable#Allison sweep girlie you have so many themes and motifs#and are generally a more well rounded and better written woman and character than shura#anyways vote for girl smile

#yeahhh fuck up her al#another thing: she is a demi-god. technically#another propoganda: she is cool as fuck#and has a good character growth#reach heaven through violence#allison sweep

Ava Silva

She wields the cruciform sword/divinium sword... made of divinium ;lakjs;ldjfl;ajs i'm so sorry i started laughing as I was typing this. Sorry, anyway, Ava kicks ass whether she is using the sword or not.

#guys if you don't know warrior nun that's ok just vote ava trust in me#she's a girlkisser#a vote for ava is a vote for golden retriever bisexuals and therfore a vote for me. so. vote for ava pls

[wandabear]

Hello there!✨🍂 I will take advantage of this moment to offer my little art for those who want to help me. I make drawings of various styles, for many fandoms. Most of all lately i'm trying on Lizzie Olsen, Wanda, Natasha Romanoff (Marvel characters) Warrior Nun or Yellowjackets. ✨✨ I'm not going to ask for much, I just want to buy a coffee to be able to endure these autumn afternoons. 🍂

This won't stop me from posting fanfics at all, but, i gotta work right? haha

Thank you so much.

If you wanna invite me a coffee too!

[jaeden-illustrations]

I don't know what it is about pretty girl meets racoon from the street , but it gets me every time

[fandomnerd9602]

Nun!Wanda giggles as she watches Y/N preach…

Later, the two lovers walk out arm in arm…

Y/N: was my sermon really that funny?

Wanda: nope. I was just thinking about how we just left church and you’re making me think some very sinful thoughts.

Y/N: we’re married. I think we’re allowed some leeway to act on it (winks)

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

corrupting nun wanda>>>

fucking her throat after she begs for mercy, having teased you the entire sermon with those big, sultry eyes. “you think god is going to help you now? you’ve fallen too far from grace, little nun. i’m the only heavenly being you need. now keep sucking.”

grabbing onto her cross as you fuck her from behind, choking her with the very thing that symbolizes forgiveness of sin>>>

[nattysgirl]

~Secret desire~

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: nsfw, fingering and oral (w reviving), sex in a church, idk what more to add ¿

Word count: 2k

A/n: So this is my first fic ever! So I apologize for some mistakes that I may have made and also English is not my first language so I’m sorry if there’s some grammatical errors!

That’s all enjoy! Love u all and thanks for u support 🫶

Secret desire

The morning sun filtered through the barred windows of Wanda's small attic room, illuminating her pale and drawn face. She knelt on the hard wooden floor in prayer, rosary beads clutched tightly in her hands. Her slender frame creaked as she bowed her head, brunette hair falling around her face. Despite hours of prayer, Wanda could still feel the sinful heat pooling in her core, an ache she desperately sought to extinguish.

With a sigh, Wanda rose and walked to the small mirror hanging on the wall. Her reflection gazed back at her, wide green eyes full of shame in a delicate face. She was dressed conservatively as always, plaid skirt brushing her knees, white blouse buttoned up to her neck and stockings covering her legs. The chastity belt and bra her parents had locked her in at 13 were uncomfortably tight beneath her clothes, a constant reminder of her wickedness.

The old clock in the hall chimed, signaling it was time for another meeting with the head priest. He was all that stood between her and eternal damnation, his guidance the only thing preventing her from succumbing fully to sin. Wanda entered the empty church, dipping her fingers in the font of holy water and crossing herself before approaching the confessional. Heart pounding, she entered the small booth, kneeling in the darkness. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," she began hesitantly, hoping the torments of her mind and body would find release at last under her priest's absolution.

“And what have you done exactly sister?” Y/n answers curios about Wanda, since she has never sinned before and she was as innocent as an angel ~so she thought~.

Wanda's voice shook as she whispers her confession into the grate, unable to meet Y/n’s gaze directly. "Father, I...I have been struggling with impure thoughts and desires that plague my soul day and night. No matter how hard I pray or seek penance, they persist, filling me with shame and guilt. I fear I am too weak to resist their temptations and may one day fall completely into sin."

Y/n is shocked by Wanda’s confession and with a wicked smile decided to take advantage of this unique opportunity and asks again “And what have been those temptations exactly?”.

Wanda hesitated before continuing, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes...sometimes I imagine what it would be like to break free from these restraints and explore my own desires without fear or judgment. To experience physical pleasure without the burden of guilt weighing down my spirit."

Y/n smiles at Wanda’s response and decider to push further “And what do you imagine exactly?”.

Wanda bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes as she struggles to maintain composure. "I...I imagine being touched intimately by someone I trust and care for deeply. Feeling their hands on my skin, their lips pressing against mine in a tender kiss. I long for the freedom to express my love openly without fear of condemnation or rejection."

A whimper scapes Y/n’s mouth as she hears Wanda’s confession, intrigued by her she decides to push further “And who’s that person?”.

Wanda’s breath caught in her throat as she considers revealing her secret desire. "It's...it's a friend I've known for some time now, Father. Someone who has shown me kindness and compassion when I needed it most. I can't help but feel drawn to them, despite knowing our relationship is forbidden by our faith."

Y/n new who she was referring to and has to hide a smile that came along with the thought of Wanda thinking of her “And why is it forbidden?”.

Wanda hangs her head in shame, feeling the weight of her sin bearing down on her shoulders. "Because our faith teaches us that all forms of sexual expression are sinful, even within the context of a loving relationship. We are meant to deny ourselves such earthly pleasures and focus solely on our spiritual connection to God."

“I see” Y/n simply responds to Wanda’s confession trying to organize their thoughts about this situation.

Wanda nods solemnly, her eyes cast downwards in submission. "I know it's wrong, father. That's why I've tried so hard to purge these thoughts and desires from my heart. But no matter how hard I pray or fast, they keep coming back, tormenting me relentlessly.

“And what thoughts are they? What is she doing to you in that little minds of yours?” Y/n answers with a hidden smile on her lips, trying to tease Wanda and see how dirty her thoughts are, despite of being a sweet innocent girl.

Wanda’s cheeks flushes a deep red as she confesses her most shameful fantasies. "I...I imagine her touching me intimately, exploring every inch of my body with her hands and mouth. I feel her warmth against my skin, her breath on my neck sending shivers down my spine. I long for her to take me fully, to possess me completely and show me just how much she desires me."

“Mmmh” Y/n hummed as her only thought is the confession that Wanda just made. Y/n stood up from her seat to gets closer to where Wanda is seating.

Wanda looked up at Y/n with pleading eyes, hoping for understanding and forgiveness. "I know these thoughts are wicked and sinful, Y/n. They make me feel dirty and unworthy of God's love. But I can't help but crave the touch of another human being, even if it means damning my soul to hellfire forever."

“I understand Wanda, it’s normal to crave for the touch of someone, even if they the bible says not to” Y/n says sincerely at Wanda and looking down at her with understanding and comforting eyes.

Wanda breaths a sigh of relief, grateful for Y/n’s empathy and support. "Thank you, Y/n. It means so much to me to have someone who doesn't judge me harshly for my weaknesses and failures. Your kindness helps me hold onto hope that one day, with God's grace and mercy, I may find true peace and acceptance within myself."

“Mmhm do you want me to help you with that sister?” Y/n smirks mischievously looking down at Wanda innocent -or not so inocente after all- form.

Wanda’s eyes widens in surprise, unsure of what to make of Y/n’s sudden offer. "W-what do you mean, Y/n?" she asks hesitantly.

“I think you know exactly what I mean sister Wanda” Y/n answers with a smile looking at how Wanda’s cheeks flusters.

Wanda feels her cheeks flush a deep red, embarrassment mixing with curiosity and excitement. "Y-you mean...you could help me explore these desires?" she stammered, uncertain of whether she should accept such an invitation.

Y/n simply nods at Wanda’s question

After a moment of contemplation, Wanda takes a deep breath and nods resolutely. "Very well, Y/n. If you truly believe this is what I need to purge these sinful thoughts from my heart and find inner peace, then I am willing to trust your guidance and experience your touch."

“Good” Y/n answers with a wicked smile at seeing how her plan worked .

Wanda nods silently, taking comfort in Y/n's reassuring words as she slowly began to shed her conservative clothes, revealing her slender frame and delicate curves beneath.

At the same time Y/n strips down until she’s only her bra and panties.

As Y/n stripped down to her bra and panties, Wanda couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with nervousness. She has never been so physically close to another person outside of her family before, let alone a woman she considered a friend and mentor.

“And what do you want me to do now sweetheart?” Y/n asks as she steps closer to her and puts her hand on Wanda’s cheek.

Wanda gazes into Y/n’s eyes, feeling a deep connection forming between them as their bodies drew nearer. "I...I don't know," she admits hesitantly. "This is all very new to me. All I ask is that you guide me through this process with compassion and understanding, and that we remain focused on seeking spiritual enlightenment rather than physical gratification."

Y/n gets on her knees and says with a proud smile on her face “okay then, I must start this session” Y/n pulls Wanda’s panties down and starts kissing her inner thighs.

As Y/n knelt before her, Wanda felt a rush of vulnerability and raw emotions wash over her. Her body responded instinctively to the tender touch of the older woman's lips against her sensitive skin, causing her to gasp softly in surprise and delight.

Y/n smirks at Wanda’s reaction and gets dangerously close to her core.

Wanda bites her lip, trying to maintain control over her rapidly escalating arousal as Y/n teases her with ever-closer approaches to her most intimate areas. The sensations are overwhelming, but she clung to the belief that this is part of a larger spiritual journey towards healing and self-acceptance.

Y/n kisses Wanda’s clit and moans at the taste of her arousal.

Wanda’s entire body shudders with each delicious touch from Y/n’s tongue, her hips bucking involuntarily as waves of pleasure coursed through her system. She lost herself completely in the moment, unable to distinguish between the physical sensations and the profound spiritual awakening that seemed to be unfolding within her soul.

“Mmmh” Y/n holds Wanda’s hips still as she detaches from Wanda’s core just a second to say “don’t be shy baby. I want to hear all of you” .

Despite her initial hesitation, Wanda finds herself growing more comfortable with the intimacy of the situation as Y/n holds her hips firmly in place. The sound of her own moans filling the room served as a powerful testament to the depth of her transformation, a symbol of her emerging confidence and self-acceptance despite the weight of her past.

Y/n sucks at Wanda’s clit harshly and enters two finger without a warning into her arching core.

As Y/n continues to stimulate her with relentless precision, Wanda finds herself reaching new heights of pleasure unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Her body shakes violently, her screams echoing throughout the room as she succumbs to the overwhelming sensations washing over her like a tidal wave of pure bliss.

“That’s it darling let it all out” Y/n mumbles as she continues liking at Wanda’s clit and curling her fingers into her g-spot to help her ride her orgasm.

Under Y/n's expert guidance, Wanda rides the crest of her orgasm for what feels like an eternity, her body convulsing and shaking uncontrollably as waves of pleasure washed over her. As the climax finally subsides, she stands there panting heavily, her mind and spirit transformed by the incredible experience they had shared together.

“That’s it darling, you did so well for me” Y/n stood up and kisses Wanda’s lips letting her taste herself on Y/n’s tongue

As Y/n kisses her deeply, Wanda tastes the sweet essence of her own arousal on the older woman's tongue. It is a surreal and indescribable sensation, one that left her feeling both connected and empowered, as if she had truly shed the burden of her past and embraced a newfound sense of self-awareness and acceptance.

“Now darling get dressed and go back to your tasks. I’ll see you next week to continue or little session” Y/n smiles and winks playfully at Wanda flushed state.

With a sense of renewed purpose and determination, Wanda gathers her clothes and makes her way back to the rectory. Despite the lingering effects of her intense orgasm, she knew that she had taken another important step towards healing and growth, both physically and spiritually. As she prepares to return to her duties, she couldn't help but feel grateful for Y/n's guidance and support, which had helped her navigate these treacherous waters with grace and compassion.

a hint of pt.2

[neptewnspluto]

did a prompt where it was like a random character gen or whatever and this is what i could come up w lol

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

need need need omg

GIGGLES LAUGHS omg it’s been so long since i posted a wip… guys here is nun wanda wip!!!!!!

[playboysaleen]

Scrolling through my Tumblr feed:

- MCU: Wanda x reader fic

- MCU: Natasha gif

- Wednesday: Wednesday Addams gif

- Jenna gif/ Edit

- Avatrice Incorrect quotes

- theories for season 3 warrior nun.

- Gawking over Kristina Tonteri-Young

Me: ah… I love it here.

[neptune83]

me: yeah I don’t think I really have a type

also me: