wandasgirl69

[wandasgirl69]

Cannot get the thought of Wanda reading you a bedtime story after a hard day. She’d definitely do voices for the different characters, emphasising italics, sometimes even adding her own sentences. Maybe even giving you hot cocoa. Then a gentle forehead kiss because of course you fell asleep halfway through. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

[wandasgirl69]

Me

easter bunny but it’s just a femme w bunny ears on<3

[wandasgirl69]

She’s so cute here with that expression it looks like those fruit bats that munch on bananas😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺

[wandasgirl69]

Mommy wanda who dresses you up like her little doll and daddy nat who gets you to sit in her lap all the time and command kisses while mommy wanda does your hair they pretty way you like

[wandasgirl69]

sexting? guided masturbation? you telling me what do you and how to touch myself? yes pls I need it mommy 😔

[wandasgirl69]

how do you deal with anxiety ?

i let it fuck me up then i go to bed

[wandasgirl69]

Me and my best friend are soooo mer and Christina coded

I love themmmmm ☹️

[wandasgirl69]

lose the attitude, darling

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

Synopsis - When Wanda comes home distant and cold, your quiet evening turns into a silent battle for her attention.

Tags - Hurt/Comfort (Because, yes), Light Angst (Just light, don’t worry) Eventual Fluff (Happy endings for sad people), Mentioning something that tastes better than your cooking (Because I am, in fact, a freak)

Note - Notice a certain pattern for the titles of my works for Wanda? Hehe.

It started with the thud at the door.

You thought Wanda had accidentally banged her head on it because she was too tired to notice that there was, in fact, a door. But instead, you weren’t even greeted as the witch walked right past you.

No greeting, no surprise kiss to your cheek, nothing.

You knit your eyebrows, contemplating if you should run after her and beg for her to tell you what's wrong. Unfortunately, you were glued to finish cooking her favorite food. The faint scent of her favored pasta and the silent hum of the stove filled the air, basking in the silence.

After you set the table, you walk towards the living room, seeing a certain brunette with a frown on the couch, scrolling on her phone.

“Hey, dinner’s ready.” You spoke softly, leaning against the doorway. Your brows raise in anticipation, waiting for her response.

But instead, she doesn’t even look at you. It was as if she didn‘t hear you at all. Your fingers drum against the door, waiting patiently.

“Wanda?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Wanda gave you a short glance, before resuming the typing on her phone again. You tilted your head, knowing she just came home from a mission and is probably hungry, offering the smallest of smiles. “Are you okay?”

She let out an irritated sigh, “I’m fine, just need to finish something for work.”

You feel skeptical, biting your lip, trying to figure out what could be wrong. “Wanna talk about it or should I start drafting a resignation letter?”

Rolling her eyes, “Not in the mood.”

That was her warning, but you ignored it. Stepping behind her, your hands find their way to her tense shoulders. You kneaded gently, easing her annoyance.

“I can save you a plate, or you could join me— if you’re done with the attitude.” You say softly this time, smiling even though she couldn’t see it.

She scoffs, “Don’t baby me. I’m not a child.”

You’re acting like one right now.

Your arms are still on her shoulders. The tone wasn’t new, but it was still oddly unfamiliar. Being incredibly distant was her brand, until it convinces you that she's okay and she doesn’t need you hovering.

You weren’t going to give in to her attitude, instead, you give her one last rub on her shoulder before walking away. “Whatever suits you, then.”

The kitchen welcomed you quietly as you put Wanda's plate away. You stared at it on the counter as you eat your pasta, taking small bites. You lost your appetite, but you can’t let the food go to waste.

Minutes of quiet had passed, the wicked witch of the couch finally decided to join you. She opened the refrigerator, getting herself a bottle of water before sitting to the chair across you.

“Hey, you.”

You said softly. In the sweetest tone you can, but still, no response.

What could possibly have her attention when she has her insanely hot, sweet, and desirable girlfriend right in front of her?

You huff in annoyance, before standing up to get her plate. Luckily, it was still warm enough to eat. You slide it gently from her with a fork, hoping it at least make her look at you.

Still, niente.

“Wanda.”

“Mhm?”

“Please eat.”

“The food’s not going anywhere, isn’t it?”

Your eye twitched. She was like dealing with a child, moreover, an child who’s glued to their phone. “But it would be nice if you could eat it while it's still warm. I worked really hard on it all evening.”

She didn’t even flinch.

You let out a breath, “Are you really being like this?” Amidst your frustration, your tone was still soft and patient.

“Being like what? You’re the one acting like you can’t live without my attention when I’m clearly busy.” Wanda said sharply, her words like a dagger to your throat.

“Fine.” You grab her untouched plate and put it on the counter. “I’ll put it away until your royal mood swings pass.”

You put your plate inside the dishwasher, letting out a quiet sigh. Her attention was still on her phone, typing away.

You decided you’ve had enough. If she wants to ice you out, fine. You wouldn't beg for scraps of attention.

—

You gave her space. Hours of it.

And it worked. As the night dragged on, her scrolling slowed. As you sat on the couch reading your book, her glances grew longer as she sat on the opposite end of the couch. Her stubborn attitude slowly caving under. The silence felt thick, it was hard to tell if she even cared anymore.

Finally, for what felt like an eternity of silence, you hear a shift on the couch.

“Hey.”

One word testing the waters, her voice was unbearably soft. Although, you remind yourself about how she discarded your delicacy that you spent hours on.

Thinking about it, she could’ve cooked faster. But still, it’s the taste that counts.

“Hm?” You hummed, not even turning your head to look at the woman.

“I was kind of ignoring you.“ Her voice soft, but her distant eyes ignoring you.

“Kind of?”

She nudged your arm with her foot, her body now laying down with her feet on your lap. “Okay, I was ignoring you a lot.”

You stayed still, not paying her any attention. After a moment, she nudges herself right into your personal space until her chin was resting on your shoulder.

“I was mean,” she whispered, breath warm against your skin.

“Uh-huh.”

Her lips brush against your cheek, feather-light, her hands slowly draping over your waist. “And cold.”

Another soft kiss, right on the edge of your jaw, kissing up to the corners of your mouth. “Unfair and downright cruel.”

You glance at her, unimpressed. “Is this your way of apologizing? Because it’s not working.”

“Is it?” Her lips curved into a teasing smile, brushing her lips against yours, a kiss that leaves no room for denial.

You rolled your eyes, but your hand was curling into her hair, pulling her closer.

“I would appreciate an actual apology, y’know.” You mumble against her lips as her arms guide you to lay down on the couch.

She pulls away, now on top of you, and smiles charmingly enough for you to forgive her, “I’m sorry, darling,”. Frowning slightly, “I shouldn’t have ignored you.”

I smile softly at her genuine, yet playful apology. “It’s okay. Everyone has those days.”

Instead of teasing you again, Wanda lays beside you, hugging you comfortably. You lean against her and whisper, “Why were you even having an attitude?”

“Felt like it.”

You stare at her dumbfoundedly before she kisses you again. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Wanda grinned, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another to the tip of your nose. “I ate the food you cooked. It tastes amazing.”

You smile, putting your arms over her head and pulling her lips back to yours once more. After a minute of being all over eachother, she pulls away and says:

“But you know what tastes better?”

Let’s just say, she definitely made it up to you.

—

[wandasgirl69]

A/N: she’s so sweet and momma I can’t :(((. I want to do a part 2 of this with some more smutty stuff or lactation kink, tehe . — masterlist.

tw: age gap > reader is 20 wanda is 36, pet names (sweet girl, dear, angel), a lot of fluffs & wanda spoiling reader !1!1!1!!!!!1!

milfy!librarian!wanda ༝༝ fem!reader

ೀ “You finding everything okay, dear?” She asked softly.

Her eyes had found you from the far side of the room, where you were looking through the reference and special collections section, a notebook and mechanical pencil clutched tightly in your hands.

You wandered back and forth in that same category for almost an hour searching for something of interest. Each time you paused to pull out a book or crouched down to examine the titles on the lower shelves, Wanda’s gaze followed you. When you finally found a book you liked and went to check out, you saw her behind the counter, already watching with small smile on her face.

You had never seen a woman so beautiful in your entire life, and when she offered a little finger wave, the book slipped right out of your hands and hit the floor with a loud thud.

Upon first meeting, you were shy and couldn’t understand why this sophisticated and incredibly attractive older woman would be drawn to a somewhat directionless twenty-year-old girl like yourself. But despite your initial hesitation, her gentle demeanor and effortless charm put you at ease, even as you struggled to speak and stand up properly.

She always made time to ask about your school life, wondering how you were progressing with your studies. She loved the days when you burst through the library doors just as she was about to close up, watching as you would leap into the room with such enthusiasm, practically bouncing on your feet as you proudly announced your latest achievement—an A on a difficult test or a perfect score of 100% on an assignment. Her praises filled the air, and she would beam with pride, celebrating your success as if it were her own.

You could hardly contain your excitement as the soft creak of the library doors would mark your arrival, your heart swelling at the sight of Wanda behind the counter, bathed in the warm, dim glow of a single reading lamp. The library would be empty, and soon you'd hear her sweet, soft voice calling you over, a warm smile on both your faces, knowing a small treat awaited you.

With a twinkle in her eye, she’d reach into her pocket and pull out a small, shiny wrapper that glimmered under the light—a crinkled piece of gold foil. Inside lay a special chocolate, the fancy ones with an intricate swirl design and a tangy raspberry center. It was a little reward for your dedication to studying, calling you ‘her good girl’ as she stroked your cheek or your hair.

She would lean in, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she motioned for you to come behind the counter. "Come here and open your mouth nice and wide for me, sweet girl,"

You never hesitated, eager to hear Wanda hum softly in satisfaction as you obeyed her orders without a second thought. She’d place the chocolate on your tongue, her fingers grazing your lips.

When you would dress up all nice, you would discreetly glance out of the corner of your eye and watch as she left her spot behind the counter, completely forgetting about her duties just to come over and compliment you.

“You look even more beautiful than usual, angel. Did you do something to your hair?”

“Yes! I just styled it a bit.” You said, voice shaking slightly as she reached out to pick up a few of the soft strands.

“Who exactly are you dressing up for, then?” she asked, the words almost biting as they left her lips.

“…You.”

A mix of surprise and delight flashed across her face as she processed your answer. That was the first time you had said something even slightly bold towards her. She let out a soft, nervous chuckle, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush.

“Oh, that’s great then! I was worried that you had plans for a date after this or something,” she confessed, and your smile grew.

“I promise, I’m only going home after this. I just wanted to look nice for you…”

She would keep the library doors open long into the evening just for you, took a genuine interest in the projects you did on the library computers and often stopped by with encouragement and guidance. She even took the time to understand your reading preferences, carefully selecting books that matched your interests. Whenever new titles arrived, she’d set aside the ones she knew you'd enjoy, creating a special collection just for you.

You once mentioned that you didn’t have your own computer—the second reason you spent so much time at the library. You barely had enough money for college; affording a personal computer was out of the question when the library computers were free and accessible to anyone. In that same conversation, you had also mentioned that your birthday was tomorrow.

The next day, she stopped you with a knowing grin. “I left something for you upstairs,” she said, gesturing toward the far corner of the second floor—your favorite study spot.

When you arrived, your usual table was overflowing with balloons, confetti, and piled with surprises: a brand-new computer wrapped perfectly with a ribbon, a letter stuffed with cash, and three rare, expensive books you’d been wanting for years. And perched at the very top of it all was a single cupcake.

Beside it sat a small note. You took it between your fingers, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. And then, as your eyes moved over the elegant curves of her handwriting, your heart nearly melted.

“…and a little treat for my favourite girl. Happy birthday—W.M. ♡”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[wandasgirl69]

'pardon my emotions, i should probably keep it all to myself'

[wandasgirl69]

southern milf wanda = double smash

[wandasgirl69]

(they long to be) close to you [W.Maximoff]

pairing: baker!wanda x college student!reader

summary: after months of pining after the lovely owner of westview's best cafe, you finally get a chance to get to know her better.

warnings: none, just fluff and pining; MILF!wanda because my hand slipped; is cute tension a thing?; gay panic; bad flirting; mentions of stress and tense family dynamics

wordcount: 1.8k

a/n: this idea came from a brief conversation with one of my favorite people [@katehopecore] and i wasn't able to get it out of my head so now it's here! and it'll probably end up as a series because i can't help myself. anyway, hope you enjoy <3 [oh AND, the cranberries version of this song is the best one, you can't change my mind]

* * * * * * *

Life in Westview had become a weird sort of predictable by now. Same routine, same people, same comfy booth at the best café in town.

Ironically, you didn't even live in said city. At least, not anymore. There was a time in your life when you'd known nothing except that small town in New Jersey and the neighbors you'd seen your whole life. It was easy, familiar, and so comfortable it became uncomfortable.

And so, to your parent's dismay, when you graduated from high school, you'd decided to leave. You chose to go to college in New York, trading the world you knew for a shining, new, incredibly loud, alternative. As overwhelming as the change had been, it was everything you'd wanted and more.

That being said, you still came back home as much as you could, more out of routine than anything else. At first, you'd left your visits reserved for holiday breaks and three-day weekends. When things got busy at school, the last thing you wanted was to be cooped up with your parents, avoiding their questions and listening to them rant about the neighbors.

Things had taken a turn, however, when you'd accidentally stumbled across Wanda Maximoff and her quaint, yet cozy, café. The lovely owner had moved into town right when you were graduating high school, so even though your parents had attended the house-warming party, you'd never met her.

Maybe that was why you were so drawn to the space. Why your feet carried you there instead of your usual hiding spots. Well, they were technically study spots. At least that was what you told yourself, even though most of the time, you were just looking for an excuse to get some fresh air away from your childhood room.

You weren't sure how it happened, but somehow, Wanda's bakery had become your safe heaven. The one place you could always run to for a warm pastry and a comforting smile.

Okay, maybe you were more fond of the beautiful owner than the fantastic coffee and pastries, but that was beside the point.

What truly mattered, at least right now, was the fact that you'd chosen to leave New York for the weekend, swearing you were going to study and prepare for your midterms next week. Of course, that was easier said than done.

Especially when you'd spent most of the morning drooling into your coffee since Wanda was working the counter today. She had no business looking as good as she did in a flannel and suspenders, her lovely red hair falling into soft waves over her shoulders.

It was a little comical how unaware of the effect she had on other people Wanda seemed to be. It was almost like she was in her own little world. One filled with croissant recipes and the weirdest ways to keep an old espresso machine from breaking down.

She was the most enchanting woman you'd ever met and she didn't even know it. Didn't even notice the way all the teenage boys that came in tripped over themselves for a second of her attention.

As much as you wanted to make fun of them, you were just the same.

Except more mature…at least, you hoped.

You're in the middle of another study session, the most recent drink you'd ordered forgotten on the table among the chaos of notebooks, books and of course, your struggling laptop, when you hear footsteps approaching.

You don't look up from your textbook until you hear the sound of a plate and a glass being placed on the table. A question is on the tip of your tongue when your eyes meet Wanda's. There's a softness in them that speaks volumes.

"You've been here for a while," she says with a small shrug. "I thought you might be hungry."

It's only then that you fully realize what she's placed on the table. A glass of water with a few slices of lemon and a plate with a warm ham and cheese croissant. It's not the most extravagant of meals by any means but, considering the growling of your stomach, it's exactly what you need.

"Thank you," you mumble, your voice coming out slightly hoarse. "This is really nice of you."

"Oh, it's nothing, sweetheart." The warmth that spread across your chest stops you from seeing the blush on her cheeks. "Just a little something to keep your energy up."

You're not sure what compels you but you close your laptop and move your stuff out of the way. "Would you like to sit for a little? You've been working hard all morning too."

A small smile tugs at the corners of the older woman's lips. "I shouldn't but…I'm sure the boys can manage for a few minutes."

You sneak a glance up at the counter, watching as the young boys behind the counter scramble to help the working adults preparing coffee orders. Even though you don't want to pry, a question falls out of your lips once you take in the similarities between the two boys and the woman sitting in front of you. "Are they…your sons?"

Wanda nods before you can think too hard about the embarrassing question you just asked. "Yeah, Billy and Tommy. They come help out on the weekends before going to their father's for a few days."

Thankfully, you were barely reaching for your water when she said that, otherwise…you might have made an even bigger fool of yourself by choking like an idiot. That being said…you still didn't push down the urge to keep asking questions.

"You're married?"

"Was married," she corrects. "Things didn't work out, but we share custody and are still good friends. It makes it easier on the boys, I think."

It's hard to hide the smile that starts spreading across your face. You hate how instantaneous it is, how insensitive it makes you feel, and more importantly…how relieved you feel. You barely know this woman, and yet here you are, wrapped around her finger so tightly that you can't stop yourself from hoping there's a chance.

A chance for what? Only time will tell, you suppose.

"Do they like baking too?" You ask as you dig into the croissant, steering the conversation away from something that might make you gay panic.

Your question makes her laugh, the sound sharp with surprise yet filled with warmth. "Oh no, the second they see flour anywhere, they start throwing it at each other."

"Can't say I blame them. I probably wouldn't be much better."

"That's disappointing," Wanda teases. "I was looking for an apprentice."

You giggle in response and concentrate on not appearing too flustered. You're not sure you succeed, though, considering the way the older woman looks at you. "I would if I could, midterm season doesn't give me much free time."

"An even better reason to give baking a try," she replies. "It's what I do when I'm stressed."

"So you decided to open a bakery? How does that work?"

She shrugs. "Divorce is stressful."

All you can do is shake your head and laugh again, feeling warmth bloom in your chest as she joins you. You're pretty sure you can get used to making her laugh like this.

"I might have to give it a try then," you say once your laughter dies down. "It sounds much better than what I've been doing."

"Which is?"

"Ignoring my problems and drinking too much coffee."

"Oh."

To ignore the soft concern in her features, you go back to eating. Thankfully, she doesn't press you or ask any more questions. She simply sits with you, keeping you company and helping you stay grounded.

It's…nice having her with you, you find. Even though all she's doing is sitting with you, her presence is calming. Comforting.

And maybe you should unpack that, but you'd rather not ruin the peace that's settled over you.

Wanda seems just as comfortable as you, since she doesn't move from her spot until she's sure you've finished eating, and she's coaxed you into finishing the glass of water. Even then, she isn't in much of a rush. At least, until one of the twins (you're still not sure which one is which, since you're too embarrassed to ask) tells her the oven went off and the newest batch of cookies is ready.

The smile on your face falters some at that and the older woman must notice because she turns back to you with a certain sparkle in her eyes. "Would you like to come help? I know you're probably busy but-"

"Yes." You rush the words out before you can second-guess yourself. "I'd love to."

Her surprise turns into glee and before you know it you're putting your things away and following her into the back. Somehow, even though the entire café always smells sweet, the aroma coming from the ovens is magnificent. You're not sure how you're going to help her without eating half of the batch.

She seems to read your mind because she motions for you to sit on a counter while she takes the cookies out of the oven. You're more than happy to watch her work, munching on whatever sweet treat she hands you to keep you from getting bored. You're pretty sure it's impossible to be bored in her presence but you don't mention that.

Some time passes before Wanda speaks again. "Sorry, I'm usually better at multitasking."

You instantly shake your head. "It's okay, I don't mind the quiet. It's nice watching you work."

"You're too sweet," she says, looking up at you with a mock glare.

You stifle a laugh as you notice the faint streak of icing on her face. "Actually, I think you have me beaten."

Her eyebrows furrow, more out of confusion than annoyance, though. "What's so funny?"

Instead of answering, you slide off the counter and reach out to wipe the icing off her face. There's still space between you, but it feels suddenly small…like if you just stepped forward…

The sound of the oven going off again stops you before you can do something truly idiotic.

Your hand drops as Wanda turns. "You should help me decorate this next batch. My hand's a little tired."

You have a feeling she's not at all tired, considering this is her passion, but you see the offer for what it is. A chance to spend more time with her.

"Deal."

It's not until almost an hour later that either of you acknowledge what happened. The soft touch and the even softer looks exchanged.

It's subtle, like the smell of her perfume that starts lingering on your clothes.

"You know, if you want to come back tomorrow, I would appreciate the help."

And you do.

The next morning. And the next Saturday. And the one after that.

You come back each and every weekend until you accidentally carve out a space in her heart reserved just for you.

[wandasgirl69]

please crawl into my bed with me. please pull me into you so I can hide my face in your neck. please wrap your arms around me and squeeze tight. please kiss my face and tell me how much you adore me. please never let me go. please, please, please

[wandasgirl69]

Margaret Atwood, from True Stories: Poems; "Postcard," originally published in 1981

[wandasgirl69]

I need her so bad

[wandasgirl69]

I just want to be silly with love of my life.

[wandasgirl69]

🌍✨ A Voice from Gaza: Fighting for Hope ❤️‍🩹

Hi, my name is Mosab , and I’m from Gaza. Life here has been harder than I could ever imagine, but today I’m sharing my story with hope in my heart, because your kindness has already given us so much strength.

This journey hasn’t been easy. The war has taken 25 family members from us—25 beautiful souls we loved deeply. Their laughter, their presence, their love… all of it is gone, leaving behind memories that are both precious and painful. Every day, I carry the weight of their loss, but I also carry their spirit, which gives me the strength to keep going.

Our Journey So Far

When I first reached out, I couldn’t have imagined we’d make it this far. Your support has been a light in these difficult times, and we are so deeply grateful for every single contribution.

But the road ahead is still challenging. Every day, we’re reminded of how much we’ve lost and how much we still need to rebuild.

Here’s what life in Gaza looks like for my family right now:

🏠 Safety: The uncertainty of tomorrow weighs heavily on us.

😢 Loss: The absence of the 25 family members we’ve lost is a pain we carry every moment.

💔 Dreams on Hold: The future feels so far away when survival takes all our strength.

How You Can Help Us Cross the Finish Line Even the smallest act of kindness can make a difference:

$5 may seem small, but for us, it’s a little relief, a moment of comfort, and a reminder that kindness still exists. ❤️

Can’t donate? Reblog this post to help us reach someone who can. Every share matters more than you know.

✅️ Vetted by @gazavetters ( #309 ) ✅️

Why Your Support Matters Your kindness isn’t just about helping us meet our goal—it’s about reminding us that we’re not alone in this fight. It’s about hope. It’s about survival. And it’s about giving my family a chance to rebuild our lives, even in the face of unimaginable loss.

Thank you for helping us get this far. Your generosity and compassion have already brought us closer to a better tomorrow, and for that, I’m endlessly grateful.

With all my love and gratitude,

Mosab and Family ❤️