igsuhrheos

[igsuhrheos]

wet and needy -‘๑’- emily prentiss

Emily comes home exhausted and you’re just the pervy girlfriend who can’t wait to make her forget everything

explicit sexual content | adult consensual play | detailed oral & fingering scenes | scissoring / tribbing (female-female genital contact) | strong language & dirty talk | sensory descriptions & overstimulation | multiple orgasms & intense pleasure | mild power dynamics (teasing dominance & submission)

You’re stretched out on your stomach across the bed when you hear the front door open, the familiar sound of Emily’s keys hitting the side table. The soft click of the lock sliding into place. You glance up just as she walks into the room, hair a little mussed from the drizzle outside, rain dotting the shoulders of her jacket.

She looks exhausted, tension in her jaw and dark circles under those sharp, beautiful eyes, but fuck — she’s still so stupidly gorgeous you swear it does something dangerous to you. That tailored coat, dark jeans hugging her hips, the faint flush in her cheeks from the cold.

You’d been waiting for her like a starved thing, picturing this exact moment all damn day. And now that she’s here, you can feel your pulse start to hammer, a low, persistent ache already blooming between your legs.

The smirk you give her makes her brow lift in that way you love — like she already knows you’re about to be a fucking menace. “Why are you grinning like that?” she murmurs, voice scratchy from the weather, loosening her cuffs.

You push up on your elbows, letting your gaze drag over every inch of her, practically licking your lips. “Because you have no idea what I wanna do to you right now,” you reply, voice lower, thick with intent. And God, the way her mouth twitches at that, trying not to smile, makes your stomach twist tight.

You don’t give her time to argue. You cross the room in a few quick steps, reaching for the lapels of her coat, fingers curling into the damp material as you pull her toward you.

Her scent hits you immediately — rain, spice, a trace of her perfume — and your brain short-circuits. You crash your mouth to hers, slow but filthy, tongues tangling, lips parting, that first kiss messy and desperate like you’ve both needed this all day.

The sound she makes when you nip at her bottom lip, the way she leans into you like she can’t help herself, sends a bolt of heat straight to your cunt. You rock your hips up against her, just enough to feel the drag of your panties, to let her feel the damp spot you know’s already there.

“Jesus, you’re worked up,” she groans against your mouth, hand slipping around to grip the back of your neck.

You smile, teeth grazing her jaw as you nip your way down to the curve of her throat. “Been thinking about you since this morning,” you murmur, letting your hands slip beneath her shirt, palms skating up her warm, soft stomach. She shivers beneath your touch, her skin pebbling.

You swear you could get off just on the way she responds to you, every hitch in her breath, every tiny tremor. “Couldn’t stop picturing your tits in this bra.” You palm them, greedy and unashamed, squeezing until she groans, her back arching into your hands.

“Fuck, baby,” she hisses, but she doesn’t stop you. She never does.

Your fingers work the button of her jeans, popping it open with a flick, dragging the zipper down slow, teasing, loving the way her breath catches when your knuckles graze the warmth between her legs. She’s wet already, the heat of her radiating through damp lace, and you nearly whimper because there’s something about Emily Prentiss slick and throbbing for you in her jeans after a long day that drives you out of your fucking mind.

“You’ve been like this the whole way home?” you tease, slipping your hand inside, fingers stroking through damp curls, down to her swollen, slick folds. She groans, her hips rocking toward you, her jaw clenched like she’s trying to stay composed, and it’s so goddamn hot you feel your own pussy clench in response.

“You’re disgusting,” she mutters, but she’s smiling now, eyes darker, lids heavy, voice frayed at the edges like she’s barely holding it together.

You grin against her throat, tongue dragging over her pulse. “You fucking love it.”

You steer her toward the bed, one hand still cupping her through her panties, the other pushing her jeans down as she walks backward. She sits with a soft exhale, legs parting instinctively, and God she looks obscene like this.

Dark hair mussed, lips kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed, those perfect tits rising and falling in time with her ragged breaths. You crawl over her, hands everywhere, lips ghosting over her skin. You mouth at the curve of her throat, down the dip between her breasts, teeth catching on the lace of her bra, dragging it down to expose one dusky nipple. You suck it into your mouth, flicking your tongue over the hardened peak, and the sharp gasp she lets out makes your stomach tighten painfully.

You fucking love the sounds she makes. Low, rough, desperate — the way she moans when you graze your teeth over sensitive skin, the way her breath stutters when your hand slides between her thighs again, fingers finding her clit, circling it slow, teasing. You watch how her body reacts, how her stomach tenses, hips twitching, the muscle in her thigh jumping.

“You should see yourself,” you rasp, lifting your head to meet her eyes, your own voice unsteady now. “So fucking pretty like this. All flushed and needy.”

And she groans at your words, head tipping back, a soft curse spilling from her lips. You watch her hand slide down, fingers brushing yours, and you realize what she’s doing. Your cunt throbs. She’s touching herself, rubbing tight, frantic little circles as your fingers slip lower, teasing at her entrance.

“You wanna watch me, huh?” she breathes, a wicked gleam in her eye even as her voice cracks.

“God, yeah. Show me how bad you need it.”

She groans again, fingers slick with her own wetness, hips canting up. The sight of it — Emily Prentiss with her legs spread, touching herself while you watch from between her thighs — is so filthy you swear you could come untouched.

You lean in, tongue flicking over one nipple, your free hand palming her other breast, and you’re not even pretending to be patient now. The air smells like her, like sweat and rain and arousal, and you drag your tongue lower, over the soft slope of her stomach, teeth nipping at sensitive skin.

You yank her panties down and she lets you, one hand still moving between her legs, and you catch her wrist before she can finish. You bring her wet fingers to your mouth, sucking them clean, tasting her, groaning low and shameless because she’s so fucking sweet you can’t stand it.

“Jesus Christ,” she pants, watching you, pupils blown wide.

“You taste so fucking good,” you mutter, sliding two fingers into her slick heat, feeling the way her body clenches around you instantly, and you swear it’s like your own pussy throbs in time with hers. Her hips buck, a ragged moan spilling from her lips as your thumb finds her clit, circling it just how she likes, your tongue laving over her nipples, the sounds of her falling apart filling the room.

Your fingers slip inside her like they belong there, and fuck, the way she clenches around them makes your whole body ache. She’s hot — so wet it’s obscene, your palm getting slick with it as you push deeper, curling just right until her hips jerk.

You can feel how swollen she is, soft, slippery walls pulsing tight around your knuckles, her arousal coating your skin, sticky and warm. Every time you thrust your fingers in, there’s this soft, sinful sound — the wet, sucking noise of her pussy trying to keep you in, and you swear you could come just listening to it.

“Fuck, you feel that, Em?” you rasp against her chest, your teeth grazing over one nipple again as your wrist works between her thighs. “Hear how wet you are for me?”

“Jesus,” she breathes, hips rocking against your hand. Her face is flushed, lips parted, dark eyes glazed with lust. She looks wrecked already, hair stuck to her damp temples, her throat working as she swallows down another moan. You watch her chest rise and fall in fast, shallow breaths, those perfect tits heaving with each gasp you pull from her. God, you love her like this — sweaty, needy, raw.

“You’re gonna make me come so fast if you keep talking like that,” she manages, voice wrecked, a desperate, broken edge to it now.

You grin, licking a stripe up the curve of one breast before you press your lips to her ear. “Good. I wanna feel you gush all over my hand, baby. Wanna watch that pretty pussy clench and soak me.”

And it fucking does — you feel her clamp down, those silken muscles fluttering around your fingers, and her back arches off the bed like she can’t stop it. Your thumb circles her clit faster now, relentless, knowing exactly how to wind her up tight. Every stroke has her hips chasing your hand, those long legs falling open wider, thighs trembling against your shoulders. She’s so sensitive you can see the way her stomach jumps with every touch, muscles flexing under flushed skin.

Her voice goes high, breath catching, and then she’s babbling, a beautiful filthy stream of curses and pleas.

“Oh fuck — baby, right there, don’t stop — oh God, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, you are,” you growl, watching the way her cunt grips your fingers, her slick soaking your hand, the obscene wet sound of it filling the room. “Come for me, Emily. Show me how pretty you look when you fall apart.”

And she does.

With a shattered, desperate cry of your name, her whole body tenses, thighs clamping around your wrist as her pussy spasms around your fingers. You feel it — the gush of wetness, her slick coating your hand as she comes hard, hips bucking wildly. Her face contorts, jaw slack, eyes squeezed shut, dark hair sticking to her flushed face. You can see how her tits bounce with every jerk of her body, nipples so hard they ache to be in your mouth again.

“Holy… shit,” she gasps, one hand fisting the sheets, the other clinging to your wrist like she can’t bear for you to stop.

You ease her through it, fingers fucking her slower now, still pressing deep, your thumb teasing lazy circles around her clit just to make her tremble and curse again.

When her hips finally settle, when her breath comes in ragged little pulls, you slip your fingers free, watching her shudder at the loss. She looks wrecked — hair a mess, lips swollen, skin slick with sweat and flushed pink. Her pussy’s puffy, glistening, still twitching, folds slick and swollen, and you’re so goddamn wet from it you can feel the ache of it deep in your belly.

You bring your fingers to your lips, sucking them clean, moaning low as her taste coats your tongue.

“Fuck me,” she groans, watching you with half-lidded eyes, voice rough and shredded. “You’re so filthy.”

You grin. “I can be filthier.”

And before she can catch her breath, before she can even think about stopping you, you crawl up and kiss her hard, making sure she tastes herself on your tongue. She groans into your mouth, pulling you down, and you moan when your slick-soaked panties drag against her thigh.

“Jesus, baby, you’re soaked,” she murmurs against your lips, reaching down to cup you through the drenched fabric.

You gasp, grinding down against her hand, the friction unbearable. Your panties are clinging to you, dark with arousal, the gusset slick and heavy against your folds. You’re so wet you can feel it dripping down your thighs, sticky and hot, every nerve ending on fire. Your clit’s so sensitive it aches, your pussy clenching at nothing, desperate to be filled.

“Been like this since you walked in,” you whisper, voice shaky now.

Emily’s hand moves, pulling your panties aside, and her fingers brush over your slit, collecting your slick before sinking two fingers inside you in one smooth push. You cry out, body jolting, your head falling against her shoulder.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” she growls, pumping her fingers hard, curling them just right. “You love getting off on me, don’t you?”

“Yes — fuck, yes — Em, please—”

She bites your neck, tongue soothing over the mark, and you shudder when her thumb finds your clit. The first press of it has your thighs shaking, your stomach clenching tight. You’re so close already, the stretch of her fingers perfect, the filthy, wet sounds of your cunt sucking her in loud in your ears.

“You’re gonna come for me,” she murmurs, voice dark and possessive. “Right now. Soak my fucking hand.”

And you do — with a strangled moan, your entire body convulses, pleasure ripping through you like lightning. You swear you feel yourself gush, slick pouring down her fingers, your pussy spasming violently around her hand. Everything goes white-hot, your hips jerking, clit throbbing under her thumb as she keeps working you through it.

“Oh, fuck, Emily — fuck, baby — don’t stop—”

She doesn’t, not until you’re begging, tears stinging your eyes from the overstimulation, your cunt a twitching, aching mess. When she finally pulls her hand free, it’s soaked, shining with your slick, and she holds it up, watching the wetness drip down her wrist.

“Look at this,” she murmurs, smirking. “God, I love how fucking messy you are for me.”

You can barely breathe, your whole body trembling, your pussy still clenching at nothing. You meet her gaze, still panting, and grin through the haze of it.

“Round two?”

Her smirk turns downright dangerous.

“Oh, you’re not getting any sleep tonight, baby.”

The look in her eyes makes your stomach flip, heat rushing low in your belly all over again. You're still trembling, your pussy still clenching on nothing, slick and swollen from how hard she worked you. Your skin’s flushed, hair sticking to your damp forehead, but you don’t care. You want her again — need to feel her cunt against yours, to grind until you’re both soaked and overstimulated, until the room reeks of sex and neither of you can move.

“C’mere,” you rasp, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her down on top of you, catching her mouth in a filthy, breathless kiss. Tongues tangling, teeth clashing, the kind of kiss that tastes like sweat and come and need. You can feel the slick heat between her thighs as she settles against you, her pussy hot and puffy, and it makes your own clench hard in response.

“Need to feel you,” you mumble against her lips, voice wrecked. “Need you on me. Now.”

She groans, low and raw, reaching down to yank your panties the rest of the way off, tossing them aside like she can’t be bothered to care where they land. Her hands grip your thighs, pulling them apart, and you swear you can feel your cunt pulse at the sight of her kneeling there — dark hair a mess, eyes blown, tits flushed and perfect, her pussy slick and gleaming between her thighs, swollen and needy.

She looks wrecked. You look wrecked. It’s fucking perfect.

“God, look at this pussy,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing over your soaked folds, spreading you open. You can hear it — the slick, obscene sound of your wetness, your folds flushed pink and shiny, clit swollen and throbbing. She groans, biting her bottom lip, and you feel your stomach clench.

“Stop teasing,” you whisper, desperate now, grinding your hips up.

She smirks, settling between your legs, her hands on your inner thighs, spreading them wider as she swings one of her long, toned legs over yours. The moment her pussy brushes against yours, both of you gasp — the heat, the wet, messy drag of her folds sliding against yours is fucking unreal. You can feel how slick she is, how swollen, how her clit catches against yours in the best fucking way.

“Oh my God,” you choke out, your hands flying to her hips, pulling her down, needing more.

“Jesus Christ, baby,” Emily groans, starting to rock her hips, slow at first, grinding her cunt against yours. The friction is everything — wet, slippery, hot — the messy, soaked slap of your pussies grinding together making both of you moan. It’s not graceful, it’s filthy. The kind of desperate, hungry, sticky grind that makes your thighs ache and your stomach clench, every drag of her clit against yours sending bolts of pleasure through your core.

“Fuck, Em — your pussy — feels so good,” you pant, staring down at the slick mess between your legs. You can see it — her folds spread against yours, both of you glistening, flushed and swollen, your clits brushing, catching, sliding slick and hot. The wet, filthy sounds of it fill the room, your scent thick in the air, and it makes you dizzy.

She’s watching you, eyes half-lidded, a feral grin on her face. “Love watching you like this,” she pants, grinding down harder, your clits catching in that perfect spot that makes both of you cry out. “God, you’re so fucking hot when you get needy.”

You can feel your orgasm building again, heat coiling tight in your stomach, your legs starting to shake. Every drag of her clit against yours is perfect — slick and slippery and just enough pressure to make you see stars. Your hands grip her hips tight, helping her move, both of you rutting against each other like animals, sweat-soaked, breathless, messy.

“Don’t stop — fuck, Em — I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, come for me, baby,” she groans, her own voice high and strained now, her cunt throbbing against yours. “Wanna feel you soak me.”

And you do. It hits you like a train — your clit throbbing, pussy clenching, your hips jerking wildly as you cry out her name. Slick gushes between your legs, soaking both of you, and Emily’s right behind you. You feel her stiffen, her pussy clenching against yours as she comes with a wrecked, desperate moan, her body shaking, her hips grinding frantically as she rides it out.

The wet, squelching sounds are filthy, your slick mixed with hers, both of your thighs drenched, the sheets underneath dark with it. Neither of you can stop moving, grinding through it, overstimulation making your bodies twitch and tremble, pleasure blooming so sharp it borders on pain.

When you finally collapse, it’s in a tangled, sweaty heap, both of you panting, skin flushed and sticky. Your cunt’s still throbbing, aching and swollen, slick dripping down your thighs. Emily’s chest is heaving, hair clinging to her face, her own thighs glistening, her pussy puffy and pink and used.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, your voice nothing but a wrecked whisper.

She laughs, low and ruined, pressing a soft, breathless kiss to your mouth. “I told you you weren’t getting any sleep.”

You grin against her lips. “Good. Hope you’re not either.”

Her eyes gleam. “Not a fucking chance.”

And you know you’re not done yet.

[igsuhrheos]

the party and the afterparty

summary: it's 3 am and you finally decide to come home, embarrassingly drunk. abby isn't mad- oh no- but she certainly has a punishment for you.

pairing: abby x f!reader

tags/warnings:18+ mdni modern au, no use of y/n, swearing, dom/sub dynamics, brief fingering(r!recieving), dirty talk, degradation/praise, dumbification, spanking, p spanking, impact play, pet names(baby, slut, whore etc)

wc: 1.7k (this was supposed to be drabble lmao)

an: i was extremely wine drunk when i wrote this , not gonna be proofread at all i'm sorry

you find yourself at the front door of your apartment. well, your shared apartment with abby. you fumble with your keys haphazardly, your mind foggy and disoriented. even though your phone had died during your nightly escapade, you knew it was late. and you knew abby had definitely tried to blow up your phone by now.

you felt your stomach churn in anticipation, expecting abby to be up, sitting on the couch ready to reprimand you. you managed to get the door open, trying to turn the knob slowly to go unnoticed.

the apartment was almost pitch black, with only one lamp illuminating the living room. your body cringed involuntarily at the creaking door as you closed it. you hoped that abby was asleep soundly in your bedroom, that maybe she'd left the light on for you.

you set your keys down carefully in the key bowl, slipping off your heels as quietly as you could. what you hadn't noticed was the slightest crack of the bedroom door, the soft steps that abby had taken to go unrecognized by your drunken head.

you surely hadn't noticed was the way she lazily leaned against the wall, staring you down like prey. sitting- waiting- for you to lift your pretty little head and notice her.

you silently praised yourself for managing to make minimal noise, only for your blood to run cold at the sound of abby clearing her throat. your breath caught, hands trembling as you lifted your head slowly, eyes wide and frightened as you met hers.

her demeanor screamed stoicism; she was calm and collected. her arms were crossed, knuckles white, muscles bulging as she held herself.

"coming in late, huh?" she inquired, her eyebrow raising with curiosity. it was a rhetorical question, you caught onto that at least. you felt your mouth go dry, your mind reeling at what to say to her.

you slip off your purse, setting gently on the arm of the couch. you instantly began fidgeting, refusing to meet her eyes. "i know it's late abs, i'm sorry. my phone died and none of the girls had a charger," you attempt to explain, becoming more intimidated by her towering frame.

she nods silently, her piercing eyes not leaving yours. your heart leaps with hope, that maybe she'd just brush it off and tell you to come to bed. but you were drunk, naive and just plain stupid to think she'd even consider letting you off the hook.

she maneuvers her body to lay flush against the wall, leaving an opening towards the bedroom. her sharp gaze never leaves you, her irises growing dark, intensely dark as she struggles to keep her composure. "go in the bedroom and sit on the bed," she commands, her voice firm but composed.

you practically run into the bedroom, trying to use your obedience to somehow get you out of this mess. and as much as you didn't wanna admit it, you felt the arousal pool in between your thighs. you didn't like making abby mad, you fucking hated it, but you couldn't help but to contemplate the punishment she had for you.

she lets you get situated on the edge of the bed before following in behind you, closing the door with a soft click!

she sits quietly beside you, adjusting her lounge shorts briefly. milliseconds of silence pass, making your anxiety peak as you toyed with your hands in your lap.

you stole small glances at her, seeing that she was staring blankly at the wall in front of you. she speaks your name in a soft murmur, sweet almost, making you snap your head towards her. she doesn't look your way, only moving her fingers to tap her lap. "lay across my lap, sweetheart," she mutters.

you oblige almost instantly, bending over to where your body laid across her thighs. your short dress rode up your ass, letting the cold air hit your clothed cunt. you stifle your gasp as her fingers run across it lightly, making a small breathy chuckle leave abby's lips.

"you're so eager...so obedient. makes me almost want to reward you for being a good listener," she coos, letting her hand rest against your cunt. you bite your lips, resisting the urge to uselessly grind your hips against her fingers. "but unfortunately, i can't do that for you baby. you know that don't you," the lilt in her voice was taunting as she pushed your slutty dress further up your hips.

you bite your lips harder, teeth tearing the delicate skin as you nod reluctantly. you knew she wouldn't let you off easy, so why were you so hopeful that she would?

she hums absentmindedly, now sliding her hands across your ass. she massaged it so tantalizingly slow, kneading the plush skin against her palms. she hooks her fingers around your panties before sliding them down to your ankles.

you don't fight the gasp this time around, feeling the cool air hit your messy soddened cunt. you squirm, making her tighten her grip on you. "mmhm, can't reward bad behavior, can i? so you're gonna tell me what you did wrong, and you're gonna count, understood?" she bellows, her voice rough.

"abby ple-" you blurt, attempting to reason before being interrupted by her rough hand crashing down on your ass with a loud slap. the stinging pain blooms across your ass cheek makes you choke on your futile pleas of forgiveness.

"fucking count."

"..o-one," you whimper, your fingers gripping the duvet beneath you. she hums in satisfaction at your compliance, massaging your thighs gently, refusing to aid the harrowing sensation on your ass. "good girl, and what did you do wrong hm?" she quips, dragging her hand toward your ass once again.

you struggled to answer before another deafening hit rang through your ears, riocheting through your inebriated consciousness. your breath hitched as tears began to settle in the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall. "hah..two. please abs, i didn't mean to," you plead.

"answer me, sweetheart, what did you do?" she repeats, refusing to give you any sympathy.

"i...i came home later than i told you i would be home," you answer, gripping the duvet tighter in anticipation for the next blow. your brain grew hazier, turning to mush at her unrelenting strikes.

abby lets out another hum, tracing her fingers across your cunt. you let out a small breathy moan at the contact, feeling your clit throb wantonly, aching for more.

"you're soaked, 's fucking pathetic. what time were you supposed to be home, baby?" she sneers, slapping her hand hard down on your wet cunt, a sticky plap sounding as her hand retracts. you jump, a weak mewl leaving your lips. "ngh...th-three. was supposed to be home before 1."

she gives your messy cunt another resounding smack, cracking down right on your clit, exciting the bundle of nerves. a wrecked moan comes tumbling out as your head falls against the bed. the tears you tried so hard to keep at bay were flowing down your face now, breathy pants leaving your maw.

abby pays your reaction no mind, holding your trembling legs still as she continues your punishment, giving your cunt another sharp hit. "but you didn't do that, it's three in the fucking morning, and you stumble in here thinking i'd let you off easy. such a dumb whore, aren't you baby?"

your eyes gloss over, mouth open dumbly as you struggle to answer her. you don't respond, you can't. and the words you do try to form quickly become static in your brain, almost as if you were short-circuiting.

abby reaches her unoccupied hand to your face, giving it a short, firm slap. you twitch, blinking rapidly as if your brain had done a hard reboot. "answer me, you aren't that dumb on me spanking your sloppy fucking cunt." she mocks.

"four! g-god...'m sorry. didn't think you'd let-hah- let me off easy," you shakily sob, feeling your cognitive functions slip away the more she continues her torture on you.

abby lets out a sadistic chuckle, teasing you with her fingers as she ghosts them over your hole. she watched as your cunt clenched around nothing, desperately wanting to get some relief. "shit, you love this huh? love getting your wet hole spanked?" she teases, a small smirk on her lips.

"abby p-please..'m sorry. please-i need it," you beg, lifting your hips to her hand pressingly. she pulls away, making you whine loudly before she spanks your cunt again. you fix your lips to count once again before you feel her fingers plunge into your sopping cunt.

"f-oh! oh my goood please!" you keen, legs shaking uncontrollably. she fists your hair, pulling your body to arch towards her. the loud wet squelches fill the room as she sets a rough pace.

she finds your sweet spot instantly, prodding at it with each thrust. your sensitive clit pulsing at her rough hand hitting it with each pump of her fingers. you felt your orgasm creeping up on you swiftly.

"tell me you're sorry again baby, wanna hear that pretty fucking mouth beg me," she urges, pulling your hair even harder. your eyes are rolled to your skull, mouth agape as a string of drool hangs from it, sticking to your jaw. "mmngh 'm s-sorry abby! please, 's so good- oh fuck..gonna cum," you bawl, tears streaking down your face.

"yeah? gonna fucking cum? cum then, go dumb on my fingers slut," she commands, and you do. the knot in your stomach snaps, your orgasm tumbling over you, becoming too much for your body to handle. your vision goes white, your entire body quivering as your juices splatter against abby's hand, the bed and your sweat-clad thighs.

you let out a loud moan before she lets go of your hair, letting you fall against her lap. she's on you instantly, pulling you upward to let your lax head lay against her shoulder. you struggle to hold onto her frame, letting her cradle you in her burly arms. she peppers small delicate kisses on your face, praising you for being so good for her.

and even though your brain had officially turned into useless brain matter, you knew that you would never come home late again...or maybe you would.

[igsuhrheos]

𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑀𝑒

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: You decide to pay for your sugar mommy's meal, and she reminds you of your place.

content warnings: BDSM, impact play, hair pulling, restraints, cunnilingus, fucking machine, buttplug, dumbification, subspace, edging, orgasm denial

word count:  7.4k+

masterlist

“Baby?” Wanda calls, “Are you ready?”

Something falls in the bathroom, Wanda’s eyes flicking over to the door in mild concern. You appear, your cheeks lightly flushed as you hold a towel loosely around your body. Wanda can’t help but trail her eyes down your frame, raising her eyebrow in a silent command. 

You drop the towel, biting your lip as you make your way over to her. “Sorry, I dropped my lotion.”

Green eyes lock on yours, Wanda’s pupils dilating as she takes in your nudity. Your nipples are already hard, your skin soft and smelling faintly of her vanilla-scented body wash. She loved it when you used her products. 

It was one of her rules, actually. You were required to use any product Wanda instructed you to, which consisted mainly of her own -expensive- things. You didn’t mind, you loved being taken care of, in every way. 

Leaning down, you gently kiss her, smiling as her hand makes its way to your waist, her fingers digging in and urging you closer. This is your favorite side of her, the one that craves you. You love her fingers pulling you in, her lips on your skin, her eyes solely on yours. 

“I’ve laid out a dress for you,” she murmurs, her voice husky and low. It sends a pleasant warmth down your spine that pools in your gut. “Go put it on.”

Her tone is firm as she gently pushes you toward the bed. You catch her eyes lingering on your nude form, glancing over you through the mirror as she applies the last bits of her makeup. Grinning to yourself, you decide to put on a show for her, swaying your hips as you saunter over to the bed. 

There it is. The dress she’d picked out for you. It was beautiful, dark red and lacy, a long slit in the side that practically reached your hips. It had a neckline that dipped dangerously low, enough to tease the sight of your chest but not too much to expose you indecently. Just the way Wanda liked it. Lying next to the dress was a pair of black heels, the bottom of them painted bright red, a sight you’d become accustomed to. 

Biting your lip to hide your excitement, you slowly pull the dress over your head, moving your hips slowly to fully pull it over your body. You note the lack of panties or a bra on the bed, your cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of sitting through dinner without any undergarments. Luckily, the dress supported your chest well, your breasts sitting comfortably with the extra padded support. 

“Perfect,” Wanda murmurs, having spun around to watch you. 

Smiling, you bask in her attention as you slowly spin around, adjusting your hair slightly. Your zipper has been caught halfway up your back, the small piece of metal resting just below your shoulder blades. 

Wanda gestures to you, a silent command. 

You obey, snagging the heels from off the bed and padding toward her. You feel giggly, and a bit like you’re playing dress-up, but Wanda looks at you with utter adoration; her normally serious expression is nowhere to be found. Her eyes are wide and unguarded, her hands firm as she beckons you closer, but not stern and unforgiving as they usually are. 

Biting your bottom lip, you decide that you quite like this side of her. It was almost… adorable. 

As if she could read your thoughts, Wanda’s eyes snap up to yours from where they’d been lingering around your neckline. “Sit on my lap, darling.”

Blinking, you clear your throat as a strange shyness creeps over you. 

“Now.” 

Wanda’s tone turns slightly icy, her eyebrows furrowing slightly at your hesitance. She doesn’t like to be disobeyed. 

“Yes, ma’am,” you murmur, noting the way her face smooths at your words. Quickly, you drop onto her lap, sitting sideways since your dress won’t allow you to straddle her as you usually did. The heels slip from your fingers, landing on the carpet with a soft thump as Wanda’s hand snakes around your waist. 

Her green eyes peer into yours, studying your face. You notice the subtle makeup she’s put on, her eyelids darkened seductively with dark gold eyeshadow, her black eyeliner small and precise. Her lips are also dark, a matte red color coating them. You wonder if it would stain your skin, then promptly push that thought to the back of your mind, lest you leak through your expensive dress. 

“I have some jewelry for you,” Wanda murmurs, her other hand coming up to trace the thin gold chain fastened permanently around your neck. She’d gifted it to you last year, her initials subtly engraved into the chain, a private sign of her ownership of you. Wanda wore a similar necklace, your initials also engraved into the silver metal glittering around her neck.

Smiling, you lean in until your lips are mere inches from hers, “I love it when you dress me, Wanda.”

“I know you do,” Wanda smirks, her hand dropping to grip your thigh possessively for a moment, before she reaches for some jewelry she’s laid out on the vanity in front of her. Her fingers send heat down your spine as she grazes them lightly across your skin, clasping a few necklaces around your neck. She adjusts them, laying the metal perfectly on your chest before she taps your hands in a silent command. 

Obediently, you raise your hands, watching her slip various rings on them. Somehow, Wanda always manages to match your jewelry to your outfit perfectly. You’re in awe every time, and you no longer protest when she demands to dress you. 

Green eyes flit over your ears, Wanda nodding slightly in approval as she takes in your various earrings. “Perfect,” she mutters, her hand coming back down to your thigh. 

“Yes, you are.”

“Don’t deflect, darling. What do you say when I compliment you?” Wanda’s tone is light, but her eyes are intense, her fingers squeezing your thigh. 

“Thank you, Wanda.”

Smirking, Wanda releases her hold on your thigh. “Good girl.” She moves to stand, helping you off her lap and adjusting your hair to fall perfectly over your shoulders. “Now put those heels on and meet me by the cars.”

Wanda lightly kisses you, careful not to ruin her lipstick -or yours- before she playfully squeezes your waist and walks out the door. 

The heels slip on quickly, perfectly molded to your feet. You take a moment, looking at yourself in the mirror and willing your blush to go away. You’re unsuccessful. 

Wanda is beautiful. She stands next to the passenger door of her favorite car, opening it and ushering you in. The exterior is gleaming, the dark red gloss standing out. The interior is even nicer, somehow, all black leather with red trim. It smells as fresh as the day she bought it. 

Taking a moment, you admire Wanda’s outfit, her silver jewelry and sharply cut jacket. She’s several inches taller than you, her heels clacking softly on the ground as she shuts the door softly before rounding the car to the driver’s side. 

The drive to the restaurant is relatively short. You steal glances at Wanda the entire time, loving the comforting weight of her hand on your thigh. 

You’ve grown used to being pampered by her. She makes a lot of decisions for the two of you, and you love her control over you. You love providing for her as well, insisting on cooking meals whenever you can. Between your part-time job at a bookstore and your relationship, you were pretty okay with your life. 

Wanda would have preferred you to be home all the time, especially when she often worked from her home office, but you’d insisted on keeping your job. You liked it, there was a bookstore cat named Freckles, and your manager was really nice. Plus, you loved being surrounded by books all day. 

Shifting in your seat slightly, you bite your lip in excitement as you feel your credit card sitting snug between the fabric of your dress and your breasts. You’d been saving up for months, knowing that Wanda had expensive tastes. This restaurant was meant for upper-class patrons, so you’d prepared well in advance. You wanted to surprise her tonight; after all, it wasn’t often you got to return the favor of spoiling Wanda. 

Wanda never lets you pay for anything. You'll be changing that tonight. 

The restaurant is just as you remembered. Low lighting and soft voices that help you relax further into Wanda’s hand on the small of your back. It feels safer this way, more intimate. 

“Right this way, Ma’am,” the waiter says, his voice quiet as he gestures for Wanda to follow. Her hand is splayed on your lower back, the warmth from her fingers propelling you forward as the waiter leads you to a table near the back. 

The chair doesn’t make a sound and Wanda slides it out, gesturing for you to sit. Her hands briefly touch your shoulders before she pushes the chair in firmly, her stride elegant as she walks to the chair across from you. 

“Two glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, from the Robert Mondavi Winery Reserve,” she murmurs, the waiter nodding dutifully before striding away. 

Those green eyes stare into yours, a soft smile playing on Wanda’s lips. 

“You look beautiful tonight, darling.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” you whisper, blushing at the praise. You briefly touch the necklace resting between your collarbones. “I think you look amazing.”

Wanda smiles warmly at that, her hand sliding across the table to clasp yours. Her fingers are soft as you idly play with her rings. 

The waiter returns, showing the bottle before Wanda nods at him. He pours the wine, standing still as Wanda takes a sip. His eyes are nervous, but Wanda simply nods again before quietly ordering food for the both of you. 

You knew what she was going to order. You’d meticulously saved up in order to cover the bill, plus a generous tip. A flood of relief fills you when she doesn’t stray from her usual order, but you cover it up with a smile. 

“How was work?”

Wanda begins speaking, her thumb running over the back of your hand as she does. You listen diligently, unsure of half the things she’s referring to but enjoying yourself nonetheless. The waiter returns some time later with steaming food, and you and Wanda make idle conversation while you eat. 

It is one of the best meals you could have asked for. Perfectly cooked salmon with a side of quinoa salad and rice. There are complementary breadsticks, and you eagerly take two. The wine pairs nicely with the food, but you’re not a huge nerd about it like Wanda is. She knows all the best combinations. 

Truly, it all tastes the same to you. But, you’d never tell her that.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” you say, wiping your mouth politely. 

Wanda simply nods, sipping her wine. You’re a much faster eater than she is, and this is one of the times you’re grateful for the skill. Squeezing her hand briefly, you stand up and walk toward the restrooms. 

Once you’ve rounded the corner, your heart begins to race. Glancing back, you see Wanda taking a small bite of her salad. 

Perfect.

“Excuse me,” you say quietly, walking up to the waiter standing near the kitchen window. He looks up, surprised. 

“How can I help you, ma’am?” He asks, politely averting his eyes when you dig into your dress for your credit card. 

“I’d like to pay for my wife’s and my meal.”

He nods, gingerly taking your card. You try not to giggle, smoothing your face over when he nods and briskly walks into the backroom. Casually, you fix your hair, careful not to lean against the wall. Wanda had helped you with your posture, and you could still remember her lessons in the back of your mind. 

“All set, ma’am.” The waiter returns, handing you your card back. 

“Oh, thank you,” you murmur, placing it back into your dress and biting your lip to stifle your smile when he looks away again. You pull out two hundred-dollar bills, handing them to him. “Thank you.”

He smiles politely as he accepts the bills, nodding at you.

“I’d prefer you keep this from my wife until the end of the meal,” you say, watching his eyebrows raise slightly. “I’m surprising her.”

“Ah,” he smiles wider this time. “Always happy to be a part of a surprise, ma’am. My lips are sealed.”

With that, you walk back to your seat. You make sure not to walk too quickly, lest Wanda becomes suspicious. She always has a way of figuring out what you’ve been up to.

“There you are, darling,” she smiles at you and stands, pulling your chair out again. “I was beginning to worry.” 

You flush, sitting down again and turning to look up at her. “Just decided to freshen up a bit, I wanted to look my absolute best for you.”

Leaning down, Wanda places a soft kiss against your cheek. “You always look wonderful, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Wanda.”

Smiling at you, Wanda returns to her seat and grasps the stem of her wine glass. You mirror her action, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a deep sip. You’re going to need some liquid confidence to get through the night once Wanda discovers what you’ve done. 

One thing you’d learned early on in your relationship was that Wanda liked to be the one in charge of things. You didn’t mind, especially in the bedroom, but you’d always felt just a tiny bit disappointed when you wanted to spoil her and she’d refuse. She’d just offer her own card, raising an eyebrow at you and firmly reminding you that she was there to take care of you. 

Sometimes it felt like you weren’t contributing anything of worth to the relationship. 

“Darling?” Wanda’s green eyes are piercing, locked on your face. “Are you alright? You look… morose.”

You shake away your thoughts. You’re sitting here with the beautiful woman that you married, on a nice date that you’ve just paid for. Get a grip.

“Yes,” you say, smiling reassuringly at her. “I just got lost in my thoughts, you know how that happens sometimes.”

Laughing slightly, you watch Wanda’s lips quirk up slightly, but something tells you that she won’t let the subject go that easily. You reach across the table, grabbing her hand and making sure she can see down the front of your dress. 

“Baby, I’m fine. Really.”

Green eyes flit down, before they glance back up at you, her eyebrow raised. “Alright. Just stay present with me, okay?”

You nod eagerly, smiling brightly at her before sitting up again. 

Under the table, you feel the top of Wanda’s heel brush against your leg, advancing slowly as it makes its way above your knees and further up your thigh. “You’ll pay for that stunt,” Wanda murmurs. 

Your heart stops for a moment, your mind flashing back to your credit card, before you realize she’s talking about your adventurous moment when she got a nice full look at your chest.  

“I understand,” you quip, adjusting in your seat to spread your legs further just slightly, watching the way Wanda’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. That’s right, two could play this game. You smiled victoriously. 

“How do you feel about going to the speakeasy a bit further downtown?” Wanda asks, finishing the rest of her wine. You mirror her actions, feeling the pleasant buzz under your skin. 

You nod, and Wanda smiles at you, grabbing her clutch. 

“I’ll be right back.”

Watching her leave to find the waiter, you wait anxiously. You can just barely see her across the restaurant, her red hair glowing slightly in the warm lighting. She’s exchanging low words with the waiter, before he gestures over towards your table. Two sets of eyes turn towards you, one apologetic and the other unreadable. 

You’re focused on the green pair, barely noticing the cash Wanda hands the waiter as a tip. 

She advances slowly, moving through the restaurant as her gaze never leaves yours. “Darling…” she says when she reaches your seat, her hand on your shoulder. It’s firm, not painful, but her fingers dig in just enough to express how she’s feeling. 

“Surprise,” you say, smiling up at her. You’re proud of yourself; your voice didn’t even waver. Standing, you bite your lip as you gaze at her, assessing her expression. 

She reveals nothing, her hand snaking around your waist and guiding you toward the front door. What would normally be a comforting action sends pleasant shivers down your spine. 

Wanda remains silent all the way to the car, opening the passenger door and ushering you in. Sliding into the driver's seat, she starts the car before letting out a breath. 

“Explain.”

“I wanted to treat you for once,” you say stubbornly. You might as well have crossed your arms and pouted, but you didn’t. 

Looking at you, Wanda sighs. “Darling, why do you always fight me on this topic?”

You don’t answer, looking out of your window as Wanda begins backing up the car, the low hum of the engine comforting. The city flashes before you as she drives, people milling about, and different lights hitting your eyes. 

“Sweetheart,” Wanda says, something in her tone telling you to turn and look at her. “You know that I appreciate it when you want to pay for me, don’t you?” 

You furrow your brow. “I… well, I always thought it just annoyed you.”

“It does annoy me,” Wanda shoots a look at you. “But, that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do.”

Then, she sighs. “In this relationship, you do so much for me. One of the only ways I feel that I can take care of you is by paying and making sure you don’t have to worry about anything financially. Do you understand?”

“I- but I don’t do that much for you?” 

Wanda laughs then, the sound surprising you. “Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea, do you?”

Shaking your head, you watch her as you wait for an explanation. 

“Lift up the hem of your dress.”

It’s a command, and you blink at the sudden turn of events. Still, you know better than to disobey Wanda. Slowly, you drag the hem up until the tops of your thighs are revealed. 

“Spread your legs.”

“Wanda…”

She shoots you a look. You spread your legs. 

“Touch yourself.” 

At that, you suck in a breath. Trailing your fingers down, you collect some of your arousal on your fingertips, surprised at how wet you are. Then, you begin circling your clit, nice and slow, just the way Wanda likes it. 

“Good girl. Keep doing that.” 

Wanda smiles, glancing down at your fingers every so often as she makes her way out of the city. You want to ask about the speakeasy, but choose to remain silent. She seems to be proving a point somehow, and you wait for her to explain.

“We’re going home, where I’m going to make us some drinks and you’re going to sit on my lap while we make a new rule. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Smiling at that, Wanda reaches over, placing a hand on your thigh. It makes your skin buzz hotly, and you resist the urge to circle your clit faster. 

“This is one of many things you do for me, darling. Your submission is everything to me, and you offer it so willingly. I’ve been able to freely express my dominant side with you, and you’ve never judged me for the things I desire in a sexual dynamic. You were made for me.”

You nod, realization creeping into your mind. Wanda isn’t finished. 

“You have your job, which I allowed because I know how happy it makes you, and I want you to have a life outside of me. As much as I would like to keep you for myself, I know how much you adore that bookshop. At home, you cook for me, not because I’ve asked you to, but because you genuinely enjoy cooking. That is something you provide for me.”

Wanda quirks an eyebrow at you. “When I get home, what is the first thing you do?”

Blushing, you respond, your words slightly breathy. “I take your coat and purse, give you a kiss, and walk with you to your home office while you tell me about your day.”

Nodding, Wanda continues. “That is another thing you provide for me, sweetheart.”

She continues to list things, small, mundane things that you hadn’t considered to be a big deal. Evidently, they meant the world to Wanda. The way you helped her with laundry, when you’d rub her shoulders after a long meeting, make her a drink in the evening, and especially when you’d follow her orders.

“Like I said, you were made for me. You do so much for our relationship.”

“So do you,” you protest, stopping yourself from saying more when she shoots a sharp look your way. 

“One of the main ways I feel that I can contribute and take care of you in this relationship is with my income. You know I make a lot, darling, I’ve never hidden that from you. I work long days so that I can come home and make your life comfortable.”

“Oh,” you say, finally understanding. 

“Please, darling. Let me use my money on you. That’s why I work so hard.”

You nod, unable to speak as you realize why Wanda was so insistent on paying for everything. 

“I see you finally understand,” Wanda says, glancing down again. “Go faster.”

Blinking, you circle your clit faster, biting your lip at the pleasure it brings. You take a deep, shuddering breath, sure that you’re leaking through your dress. The air in the car becomes warm, and the next time that Wanda looks at you, her pupils are blown. 

“Keep going,” she murmurs, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. “If you cum before we get home, your punishment will be worse.”

You whine, nodding as you keep your pace. You try desperately to think of anything other than the woman seated beside you, her grip firm on your thigh as you feel your pleasure building. 

The fingers on your thigh grip harshly as you slow your pace slightly, trying to stave off your incoming orgasm. 

“What did I say?” Wanda hisses, her eyes glancing sharply at you. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry… what?”

You shudder, feeling little bolts of pleasure crashing through you. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Hmm,” Wanda pretends to think, watching as you increase your pace again. “I don’t think that’s a strong enough title, do you?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress.”

Wanda smiles, satisfied. “Good girl. Keep going. Please your Mistress.”

You let out a low moan at her words, feeling your pleasure increase tenfold as she calls herself that title. You try to stop it, your orgasm. But Wanda is talking, telling you that you’re doing so well for her as her fingers slowly inch up your thigh, her vanilla scent engulfing you as your muscles spasm, white-hot pleasure overtaking you. 

You fingers stall, your orgasm coursing through you as your clit pulses. Wanda makes a noise, her fingers grabbing yours and moving them back to your raw clit. “Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, I’m sorry, Mistress.”

Continuing, you let your fingers wring every last drop of pleasure from you, aware of the fact that you’ve just made your punishment worse. You truly couldn’t help it. I mean, it’s not your fault that your wife was insanely hot and her words were able to bring you to orgasm, was it?

You’re working your way up to a second orgasm when Wanda pulls into the driveway of your shared home. As the garage shuts behind you, she turns the engine off, her hand grabbing yours and gently pulling it away from your swollen clit. 

Wrapping her fingers around your wrist, Wanda brings your hand to her lips, maintaining eye contact with you as she sucks the arousal off of your fingers. 

“I can smell your arousal,” she murmurs, releasing your fingers with a soft pop. “I’m going to get changed. By the time I come back, I want you nude and kneeling on the floor in front of the couch, with two drinks in your hands. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Mistress.” You watch her exit the car and round the side to open your door. 

Wanda disappears into the bedroom, and you quickly make your way to the kitchen, grabbing the ingredients to make Wanda’s favourite cocktail. 

It isn’t long before you’re finished, garnishing each drink with a maraschino cherry. You walk carefully to the living room, setting the drinks on two coasters near the couch. Wanda didn’t like it when you forgot about the coasters. You didn’t blame her, all of the furniture in your home was expensive, much of it was hand-crafted. 

Stripping out of your beautiful dress, you fold it neatly and place it on the chair nearby, your heels sitting next to it. You remove all of your jewelry, except for the permanent gold chain around your neck. 

Grabbing the drinks, you kneel in front of the couch, facing the cushions. It’s a position that Wanda had trained into you, and you’re well aware of the wetness clinging to your center as you wait. 

Footsteps sound out, heels clicking towards you. As much as you want to, you don’t dare turn from your position, knowing that Wanda liked the thrill of suspense. 

“I hope you enjoyed that orgasm in the car,” Wanda says, stepping around you to sit on the couch. Your mouth waters as she comes into view. “It will be your only orgasm tonight.”

Your eyes snap up to hers, but you remain silent, her eyes hard and unforgiving. The lingerie set she’s wearing is gorgeous, all black with a lacy corset. There are accents of dark red throughout the whole piece, and you can feel yourself getting worked up as you take her in. 

Wanda’s hand grabs one of the glasses, sipping from it as she makes a small noise of appreciation. Setting it to the side, she grabs the cherry and pops it in her mouth, before she leans forward to grab your jaw. 

“Open.”

You can smell the cherry and sharp hints of alcohol on her tongue, and you obey. Wanda’s fingers reach into your glass, grabbing the cherry and bringing it to your parted lips. She rubs it over your top lip first, then your bottom lip. You remain still, watching her eyes as she slowly presses the cherry onto your tongue. 

“Chew and swallow, dear.”

You obey, looking into her eyes as you do so. 

Wanda smirks, satisfied with your obedience. She grabs your glass, tapping her knees in a silent command as she brings the glass to your lips. You rest your hands on the tops of your thighs, palms facing up as she tips the glass forward, the sweet drink flowing into your mouth. 

She has you drink until the glass is empty, your stomach warm from the alcohol and lips buzzing from the way she’d wiped them with her fingers once she was done. Wanda sits back, watching your flushed face as she sips on her own drink.

“There is going to be a new rule implemented, darling.” 

You nod, tilting your head slightly. 

“When we are together, I will pay for everything. If you wish to make a purchase, you will talk to me beforehand. You know how I hate it when you disobey or trick me in public.” Wanda’s eyes soften. “Occasionally, you can buy some things when we are together, I won’t deny you that. But, let me take care of you, okay?”

You nod. The decision is easy now that you know the real reason why Wanda was so insistent on paying for everything. Besides, it was nice to be taken care of. 

“Good girl.”

Wanda finishes her drink, setting it next to your glass. “You know that I have to punish you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress.” You hang your head slightly, wondering what type of punishment Wanda has planned. Strong fingers grip your chin, wrenching your head up. 

“You know why, don’t you?”

“Because I went behind your back, Mistress.”

Wanda’s eyes flash, a pleased smile adorning her face. “Exactly, sweetheart. You know that what you did was wrong, and you know how I hate it when you are dishonest with me.”

At that, Wanda stands, still gripping your face as you crane your neck to look up at her. “Who owns you?”

“You do, Mistress.”

Wanda’s fingers tighten on your jaw, forcing your mouth open. She spits, letting her saliva drip into your mouth, and you swallow obediently. 

“Crawl,” she commands, before turning and walking slowly to the bedroom. 

You obey, your eyes glued to the sway of her backside as her footsteps click down the hallway. The hallway is carpeted, something you’re grateful for as you crawl behind Wanda. You can feel your arousal running down your inner thighs as you crawl, and sharp arousal mixed with soft humiliation mixes deep inside you. 

You reflect on your choices as you crawl, satisfaction that Wanda had finally explained why she liked to pay working its way through you, even as regret pools in your stomach. You truly hated going behind Wanda’s back, and although it was meant as a thoughtful surprise, you now understood why it meant so much to Wanda to take care of you financially. 

Wanda stops, wordlessly pointing at the bed. You blink, having not realized that you’d made it to the bedroom already. You follow Wanda’s instructions, crawling onto the bed as she shuts the door behind you, a few warm lamps lighting the room. 

“Sometimes I forget…” Wanda begins, sauntering back over to the bed, a glint in her eye. “I forget that good girls like you need discipline to keep them in line, isn’t that right?”

You nod. 

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Wanda’s eyes hardened. “Yes, Mistress… what?”

“I-” your eyes dart around the room, unsure of what Wanda wants you to say. The woman reached behind you, grabbing two velcro cuffs and attaching them to your wrists while you fumble for an answer. 

“What do good girls need, sweetheart?” Wanda finally says, testing the cuffs to make sure they’re secure but not too tight. 

“Oh, um. Good girls need their Mistresses to discipline them to remind them of their place.” You turn to look at Wanda, hopeful that you’ve supplied the correct answer. Wanda smiles at you, tracing a finger down your face as she nods. 

“Very good,” she murmurs, grabbing a piece of metal and attaching your wrists together on your lap. You know that you can’t escape, so you don’t even test the strength of the restraints; you just watch Wanda. 

Tapping your lower back, Wanda urges you into position. “On your knees, ass up, darling. I want your arms straight up so your face is on the mattress.”

You obey, stretching your arms out and presenting your backside. Wanda’s hand lands on the back of your head, ensuring that you stay in place, before she strokes your hair and trails her fingers down your spine. Her lips caress your ear, her vanilla scent washing over you as she whispers, “Count for me.”

You barely have time to question it before a resounding crack echoes through the room. You register the pain a second later, a burning sensation multiplying the humiliation and arousal inside you. 

“One, Mistress.”

Wanda is relentless, using her hand first, until you no longer squirm when she spanks you. She lets out a frustrated noise as your voice remains steady, stalking over to the closet and emerging with more toys. 

“I want to see you break,” she hisses, grabbing the roots of your hair and twisting your head until your wide eyes meet hers. She relishes the wide look of anticipation and trepidation on your face, before she roughly shoves your face back into the mattress, one hand steadying your back while the other raises a paddle and brings it down sharply with a twist of her wrist. 

“T- twenty-three, Mistress,” you moan, feeling tears form in your eyes as your head starts to become fuzzy. This was the headspace that you loved the most, and Wanda knew just how to get you there. 

Wanda resumes, switching between the paddle and a soft cane, the low whistle in the air before it strikes you, causing your arousal to spike. 

“God, I love how much of a masochist you are,” Wanda says, her voice slightly raspy. “You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you, darling?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you say, your voice slightly muffled from the way your face is pressed into the mattress. 

Wanda delivers one final blow, the crack jolting your body forward as your fingers grip the comforter tightly, a muffled sob sounding out. Her cool fingers gently trail over your raw, red ass, her voice whispering in your ear, “Color?”

“Yellow, Mistress,” you moan. “I just need a moment.”

“Good girl,” she responds, rubbing your backside for a moment before walking back into the closet to retrieve more toys, letting you catch your breath. 

She remains in the closet for a suspiciously long time, but you don’t dare raise your head. You can hear her rummaging around, her heels making a soft thud on the carpet as she returns, the weight of the bed shifting as she deposits whatever items she collected. 

There are some more noises, near the foot of the bed, and you feel yourself craning to hear what she might be doing. 

“Turn around, darling,” Wanda commands. “On your knees, facing the headboard.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you mumble, quickly following her order. You can feel her attaching cuffs of some sort to your ankles, and you realize that you’ve been restrained with a spreader bar. Flexing your ankles for a moment, you realize that you’re well and truly stuck. It sends a rush of arousal through you.

“You like this, don’t you,” Wanda murmurs, dragging a finger through your dripping slit, an appreciative moan telling you that she licked your juices from her finger. 

You can’t do much but whimper, hearing her chuckle from behind you. 

The feeling of something thick prodding at you makes your heart stutter for a moment, before you feel Wanda’s fingers spreading lube all over what you presume to be a dildo. She makes sure to spread some on you as well, her fingers scissoring inside you as she ensures you’re well lubricated. 

There’s a click, and then you hear the soft hum of machinery. A thick dildo presses against you, and you moan as you feel it start to penetrate you. 

“Hold still,” Wanda commands, and you obey, feeling her adjusting the machine. The dildo presses deep inside you, hitting that spot inside you that causes pleasure to bloom, and you groan into the mattress. 

“Perfect.”

Wanda rounds the bed, the machine slowly thrusting her favorite dildo deep inside you, the sounds of your wet pussy being slowly fucked sending her own arousal soaring. She grips your hair again, pulling your head up to admire the glassy look in your eyes. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

“I- mmmph,” you manage, your eyes gazing into hers, not a thought behind them. 

Chuckling, Wanda presses a button on the remote, the dildo moving slightly faster. Your mouth opens, your cheeks coloring further as a deep flush emerges. 

God, it feels amazing. Wanda’s cool hands on your cheeks as your body is set alight with pleasure. She’s moving, pulling off her lingerie as she manoeuvres herself to sit against the headboard. 

You can smell her, so you drop your gaze down to her perfect pussy, licking your lips at the glistening arousal you find there. 

“Go on,” Wanda’s voice cuts through the haze. She clicks the remote again, the dildo fucking you faster and deeper. “Make Mommy feel good.”

At that, you dive in, not needing to be told twice. Eating Wanda out was something you’d never tire of. She smelled divine, and tasted even better. You’d told her once that you thought she compared to the nectar of the Gods, and she’d been so pleased that she allowed you to eat her out during an entire workday from home. It had been one of the best days of your life. 

“Oh, fuck,” Wanda breathes out, feeling your tongue expertly wrap around her clit, stimulating her in that perfect way of yours. Her hand makes its way to your hair, gripping tightly. It would be uncomfortable, but you loved the pain as she pulled on your roots slightly, pushing your face further into her. 

Your hands are still uselessly cuffed together, but your fingers manage to find Wanda’s nipples. You pinch them in that way she likes so much, and you feel her clit pulse beneath your tongue. 

Wanda has never been very vocal during sex, but you’ve learned how to read her all the same. You can feel her breath stutter beneath your fingers, and you continue to stimulate her nipples, rolling and pinching until her muscles twitch. She subconsciously thrusts harder into your mouth, and you eagerly accept. 

When she comes, it’s quietly, with a low moan and her fingers gripping your hair like she never wants to let you go. You moan with her, your pleasure building as the dildo continues to fuck you slowly, sliding in and out of you until your brain can’t focus on anything else.

“Fuck,” Wanda whispers, pulling your head up to gaze at you. “I want to fill you up, darling.”

Your eyes widen, but you nod, the pleasure making your mind fuzzy. Wanda knows this. She knows how easy you are to manipulate and follow her every word when you’re desperate to cum. 

Smirking, Wanda caresses your cheek for a brief moment before she slides out from under you, grabbing another toy from the nightstand. 

It’s a beautiful buttplug, made of pure gold with a dark red gem at the end. It’s one of Wanda’s favorites, and you like it well enough. It’s not too big, just enough to stretch you out and make you feel full, and you love it when Wanda claims every part of you. 

“Relax, baby,” Wanda murmurs, gently squeezing some lube onto your ass. You obey her, the pleasure from the dildo making your muscles weak. Wanda presses on the remote again, the dildo fucking you faster, pleasure erupting inside you. 

Slowly, Wanda inserts the buttplug. You can feel the stretch, the slight burn as the thickest part of the plug makes it past your rim, the sensation of being full making you pant and moan. 

“You like that, don’t you? You like it when I claim every one of your holes, hmm?” Wanda asks, twisting the buttplug so it’s covered in lube as she slowly inserts it. 

“Yes, Mistress,” you moan, bucking your hips into her hand. This causes the dildo to fuck deeper inside you, and you practically melt into the mattress, your muscles going limp from pleasure. 

Wanda chuckles, inserting the buttplug fully and relishing the way you whine at the fullness you feel. She admires you for a moment, the dark red gem glinting back at her as your arousal drips down your thighs while the machine fucks you relentlessly. 

Grabbing a soft towel, Wanda slips it underneath you, grabbing your ass when she’s finishes and kneading your hot flesh. You moan, full twinges of pain only adding to your pleasure. You can feel an orgasm starting to emerge, your heart racing as pleasure builds within you. 

“Do you want to cum?” Wanda asks, her voice sounding out next to your ear. 

You moan in response, too weak to do much else. 

“Aww,” Wanda coos, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. “My pet is too dumb to respond correctly, isn’t she?”

Her words reverberate around your skull, the warm vanilla scent engulfing you as your mind grows hazier. You can’t offer much other than soft whimpers and moans, your head turning to tearfully look at your Mistress. 

“Well,” Wanda begins, her hands caressing your sore backside harshly. “Since you can’t form a correct response, I suppose I’ll have to punish you.”

You would protest, but you can barely think of any words to say. Wanda’s hand comes down, gentler than her strikes before, but the impact on your already red ass makes you yelp, your mind breaking fully. 

Wanda is gentle, but persistent. She spanks you in a rhythm you can’t decipher, unable to anticipate when she’ll strike next. It thrills you, and sends your mind deep into that vanilla headspace you’ve grown to love. Pain mixes with pleasure, the dildo fucking you slowly enough that you feel your orgasm growing, but never quite enough to tip you over the edge.  

“P-please,” you manage, after you feel yourself edge again, Wanda monitoring your body’s reactions and slowing the dildo down whenever you grow too close to an orgasm. 

“Use your words, darling. Full sentences."

“I-,” you moan loudly, the dildo speeding up. 

“Pathetic,” Wanda murmurs, her hand grabbing your hair and yanking your head up. Green eyes meet glazed ones, and she smirks. “You can’t even beg properly anymore, you’re completely mine, aren't you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you moan, unable to say anything else. 

“Good girl,” Wanda releases your hair, letting your head press into the mattress weakly. She clicks the remote again, the dildo fucking you harder than before, the sound of your arousal making it’s way to your ears as you feel pleasure growing once again.

Your orgasm is close, your knuckles white as you grip the pillow, your muscles tense. You’re so close, and Wanda knows it. 

“Tell me, darling,” Wanda begins, sitting next to you, stroking your back gently as the dildo fucks punishingly into you. “What lesson did you learn today?”

“I- um… to… to let you, mmphh fuck, to let you pay for me…”

Wanda smiles. “Exactly.” Then, she stands, reaching back to slowly grab the buttplug, pressing it even further into you. You moan, a broken, weak sound that makes Wanda pulse with need. 

“You’re going to obey me.” Wanda pulls the buttplug slightly out, before slamming it back into you. “You will never question me or go behind my back again, do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you yelp, moaning as you feel your orgasm creep closer. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you know I just want to take care of you, right?” Wanda’s voice is sickly sweet. “That’s all I want. And you just need to learn your place.”

You nod frantically, your submissiveness clicking firmer into place, your role reestablished in your mind.

“Yes, Mistress,” you moan. “I know my place, I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll never disobey you again.”

“I doubt that,” Wanda murmurs to herself, before smiling at your wrecked form. “One more edge, baby, then we can be done for the night.”

You nod, moaning as Wanda clicks the remote higher, the dildo fucking you faster and rougher than it had previously. You’re almost overwhelmed with pleasure, Wanda’s hands on your face and ass, her presence everywhere. You love it. 

“I- m gonna…”

Wanda clicks the remote, the dildo stopping immediately. 

You moan in slight frustration, feeling your arousal leaking around the dildo as it drips down your thighs. Everything happens in a haze, Wanda removing the dildo from you and slowly taking your buttpluge out. She unclips your restraints, leaving you boneless on the bed as you embrace the comfortable haze in your mind. 

The shower is nice, warm, and smelling of vanilla as Wanda washes your body and hair, whispering sweet things into your ear while you slump against her. It’s not until you’re wrapped up underneath the covers that you finally begin to emerge from that comfortable headspace, your limbs entangled with your wife’s.  

“I love you, darling. Thank you for your trust in me.”

“You always make good decisions for us,” you say, yawning slightly and burrowing further into her. “I love you, too.”

Wanda smiles, making a contented noise as you hear her breathing start to grow softer. 

“Hey, Wands?”

“Hmm.”

“I’m paying for ice cream tomorrow.”

And with that, you ignore the soft, happy sigh your wife lets out, letting her vanilla scent engulf you completely. 

Your life truly couldn’t be more perfect.

—-

Dm or comment to be added/removed!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @dorabledewdroop @justarandomreaderxoxo @godhatesgoodgirls @snowdrop1026 @maximoffmorale @noturlondonboy @xenaizogie @imjustvibingsworld @tobiaslut @xenaizogie @sxlfishbrokenheart @huggingkoalas @deliriosinrose @godhatesgoodgirls @yeetus-thyself @wizardofstories @wandastan-2 @the-ox-fan20 @danveration @jazzyxqzl @jolyssereed @ahintofchaos @secrettoallofyou @violentlanes

[igsuhrheos]

Can you do twitter links of Wanda Maximoff? Please and can you also make sure she’s a overstimulater

you ask and you shall receive !! this is so late and i apologise.. this will be my last post before going on hiatus!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...  ╰┈➤ 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚙 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜 ✮⋆˙

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: must be signed into twitter to view these links! ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ !!

✰ wanda likes to grab your hips and dig your pussy further into her mouth when you're sitting on her face.

✰ making out with gf!wanda at the back of the party at avenger's tower.

✰ sub!wanda riding your thigh after a rough mission after being away from you for too long.

✰ fwb!wanda overstimming you after you pissed her off.

✰ trying the strap on wanda for the first time.

✰ wanda just taking what she wants from you after an argumentative meeting with the rest of the group.

✰ wanda overstimming you with her fingers after you guys came home from a gala and you were looking too good.

[igsuhrheos]

wandanat x eldest child reader who trys so hard to stay independent but really js wants to be babied (am I projecting with this? Yes. Yes I am. )

You were raised to be independent, to look after yourself without much help. Raising your siblings and yourself while your parents were busy.

That was how you were, looking out for yourself since your first sibling was born.

When you met Wanda and Natasha you were entirely resistant to receiving help from them.

They were your neighbors, the married couple who had lived there for a few years already when you moved in.

As you unloaded your car with the few boxes you had, Natasha was out front, just across the street in nothing but a tight tanktop and shorts.

She offered to help, coming over with a small smile and helping hand. You brushed her off with a dismissive look and wave of your hand, balancing boxes in the other.

After that the two were still persistent to help. Inviting you over for dinners at least once a week, offering to help in any way needed. They were kinder to you than anyone had been in your life before.

You found it odd, giving them weird looks and continuing about your day.

But they were more persistent, and for the longest time you couldn't figure out why, but then they asked you out.

You stumbled over words for a moment, staring at them in confusion and wondering if it was a prank, but they remained patient and the look on Wanda's face told you everything.

Eventually you agreed to go out with them and the first date was a struggle. They offered to drive you, which you almost refused, before they used the logic that they lived right across the street.

You didn't let them pay for dinner, instead insisting on splitting the bill. Even though they were quite persistent, that was a battle you won.

Surprsingly you continued to go out with them, sandwiched between them most times and coerced into being a passenger princess and sitting in the back.

It irked you for a while, where they insisted on doing everything for you. Carrying your shit, driving you around, buying you stuff- things that seemed little but felt like a jab at your independence.

The first fight you three had was because you felt like they were undermining your freedom and autonomy.

"That's not what we're doing," Wanda explained softly, "We just want to take care of you."

The words hit you hard, knocking the wind out of your lungs before you come back with a snarky retort and storm out of the room.

Eventually, the three of you make up and something in the dynamic shifts.

You slowly start to trust them more, let them take care of you and help you with the small things while still trying to keep yourself as your own person.

When it came down to being sexual you absolutely refused to reliquish control. You wanted to have some part of control the entire time.

Whether it was as simple as not being on the bottom or having all your limbs free, which was difficult seeing as Wanda and Natasha were both very dominant people.

The next time they broke your walls down, coercing you to have a moment of vulnerability.

It was slow, maybe pinning your hands above your head and pushing you up against the wall or keeping your hips pinned down as they ate you out.

"Shh," Natasha murmured against your cunt as you thrashed your hips up. A safeword had been discussed so you weren't in any real distress, "Lay back. Let me take care of you."

Wanda was the first to tie you up, gently and slowly with soft whispered words and explaining it all along the way. She was patient with each sharp intake of your breath.

She took her time with eating you out, playing with different toys and her tongue and letting you feel each sensation.

The vulnerability in the bedroom transferred over to domestic life. You let them cook for you, drive, clean - again, little things that weren't so little you.

About a year into the relationship you were practically living at their house, half of your stuff there and sleeping in between them almost every night.

One day you were feeling particularly independent, snapping at everything they said and fighting back refusing to accept help.

You would think they would let it go, let you have your dy of independence, but no.

Instead you ended up tied to the bed, ankles and wrists cuffed to the ends of the bed so you couldn't move at all.

They teased you for hours, keeping you on edge until you were nothing but a babbling and incoherent mess.

"Just let mommy do the thinking."

Wanda tweaked your nipples, caressing your face and pressing tender kisses along your body to soothe you.

Natasha worked her fingers in and out of your cunt, slow and steady, "You ready to stop fighting us sweet girl?"

It took while but then you were just a thoughtless little toy for them, too fucked out to even think about doing anything yourself and just surrending to the pleasure.

The aftercare after that is so sweet, kind and careful. They give untie you with tender hands and soft whispered words before giving you a bath. This was the first time you fell into subspace, blissed out and ending up naked in bed and sucking on Wanda's nipple.

Her hands carded through your hair while she talked with Natasha casually and they soothed you to sleep.

[igsuhrheos]

Wanda Maximoff P Links!!

(Ignore the colors for the name I had fun lol and can’t get the fonts I want since I don’t have a laptop)

Warnings: cunnilingus, fingering, thigh riding, scissoring, strap ons, some toxicity, intersex (only 1)

One night stand!wanda savoring every last taste of you in the morning before you leave

Pervert!wanda groping your breasts in your sleep

Top!wanda swearing she’d never want to be the one riding the strap

Sub!wanda begging for you to praise her while she rides your thigh

Momsbestfriend!wanda trying to shut you up while she fucks you in your childhood bedroom

Mommy!wanda coming home from a long day of work and needing to eat you out before she sleeps

Insecure!wanda worried you’d find her bush unattractive but it’s exactly the opposite

Uberdriver!wanda taking her favorite client home to eat them out

Sisters best friend!wanda sneaking into your room past midnight

Milf!wanda said she was tired of you going easy on her after the pregnancy

Jealous!wanda after finding out you slept with Natasha when you two broke up

Farmer!wanda and you scissoring on the porch early in the morning before she gets to work

Housewife!wanda sending you a video of her riding your pillow while you’re at work

Rich CEO!wanda taking you on vacation and fucking you in the hotel room

Scarlet witch!wanda putting a spell on you in your sleep and waking you up to find your cunt needy for her

Jock!wanda needing to fuck you in her car after practice

Domestic!wanda imagining breeding you, your stomach being full and your breasts leaking

Vulnerable!wanda letting toxic!r continue to come back

Divorced!wanda finally having sex for the first time in years and being more sensitive then ever

Gamer!wanda letting mommy!r take care of her

Stalker!wanda forced to listen to all the videos she took of you without consent while you fuck her from behind

Professor!wanda unable to resist fingering you when you sit on her office chair like that

Ex!wanda just can’t get enough of you

Cowgirl!wanda taking pride in knowing she’s the only one to ever make you cum

Intersex!wanda is obsessed with having your mouth on her cock

[igsuhrheos]

I can’t fucking wait until all the Wanda maximoff starts writing summer themes again. I’ve been cleaning pool’s lately and I just keep thinking about MILF!Wanda hiring a lesbian to clean her pool🫠🫠🫠 (which obviously leads to smut)

[igsuhrheos]

office brat

pairing: wandanat x afab!reader

summary: you piss natasha off and she calls wanda into her office to deal with you.

content: brat taming, dom!wandanat, small mommy kink, strap on (r receiving), finger sucking, voyeurism, orgasm denial, pussy eating (n receiving), degradation.

When Natasha's pen scratching faltered for the fifth time, and she took an irritated breath, you knew you were getting closer to getting what you wanted. Her patience was running thin.

"Sit fucking still," she growled, slamming her pen and turning her chair to face you.

You huffed. You begged to come to the office with Natasha, expecting her to fuck you on her desk until you couldn't take it anymore, but no, she stripped you naked and forced you to kneel next to her, telling to be quiet and still until she finished.

"I'm bored," You whined, reaching out for Natasha's leg but she slapped you away.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. If Natasha were a cartoon character, steam would be coming from her ears. She grabbed her office phone, punching in some numbers on the keypad, and held it to her ear. The line rang for a few seconds before being answered.

"My office. Now."

You frowned and started to rise, but Natasha forced you back down. That was weird. Natasha never lets anyone see you naked. She always said that your body is for her eyes only.

The door clicked open, and you nearly jumped up in excitement. Wanda Maximoff, Natasha's business partner, walked in, shooting you a cheeky grin before stopping in front of Natasha's desk.

"You could use your manners next time." Wanda remarked.

"Don't start." Natasha scoffed. "They've been pissing me off the entire day. Just deal with them."

Wanda hummed, sitting down on the couch and beckoning you over. You crawled over, pulling yourself onto her lap, and basically vibrating with excitement. It's been weeks since you last saw Wanda. You missed her.

She traced your lips with her thumb. "Been bad, huh?"

You pouted, pushing your face into Wanda's neck and grinding into her lap. Like always, she was packing. Wanda unzipped her pants and pulled her strap out, slapping it against your cunt. You sank down on it with ease, groaning at the stretch.

Wanda slipped two fingers inside your mouth. "Gotta stay quiet,"

Her fingers rest heavy on your tongue. You licked at the pads of her fingers and sucked lightly. She kept a bruising grip on your hip and slammed you down repeatedly. You swore she was about to split you in half.

Just as you were about to tip over the pleasurable edge, Natasha had to ruin it. "Stop,"

Wanda stilled your hips, keeping you snug against her. You cried out, softly slamming your fists against her shoulder. Wanda's face dropped, and she grabbed your wrists in an iron grip.

"You do not hit me," she hissed. "Do you understand me? You do not fucking hit me."

Your heart dropped. Angering Wanda was only a mistake an idiot would make. You mumbled an apology around her fingers.

"You're managing to piss off everyone today, aren't you?" Natasha threaded her fingers through your hair and yanked it.

You swallowed back a bratty response.

"I don't even think they deserve an orgasm," Wanda said.

Your cries of protest fell on deaf ears. You were forced to kneel at Wanda's feet and watch. Natasha took your place, sinking down on Wanda's strap, covered in your slick. Wanda pulled her into a messy kiss, muffling her moans and fueling your frustration.

"Please!" you begged.

They ignored you. Natasha was close, and you wished so badly that you could see her face as she came. It wasn't fair.

"You gonna cum for mommy?" Wanda asked with a shit-eating grin.

Natasha's laugh was cut off by a moan. Her head lulled forward and her body shook as her orgasm washed over her. Wanda continued to pump into her until Natasha pulled herself to sit next to Wanda.

She spread her legs and you eagerly sat between them, your eyes trained to her glistering cunt. She pulled your face into her, and your frustration was washed away. You licked and suckled on her clit until her back arched and a silent moan left her throat. Your eyes didn't leave her face for a second.

"Not that hard to be good, huh?" Natasha shuddered as you cleaned her.

You shrugged, "I got what I wanted in the end."

"Brat."

[igsuhrheos]

do not watch this tik tok edit unless you have watched the assessment ! !

otherwise… ✨ENJOY✨

[igsuhrheos]

-gymrat abby who begs you to go to the gym with her anytime she’s going, even buying you cute workout sets in your favorite colors.

-gymrat abby who always buys you a treat on her way back, a coffee, a cookie, a scone etc…

-gymrat abby who barely makes it into the front door before you’re kissing her and begging her to fuck you. 

-who gets on her knees and eats you out like her life depends on it, moaning into your pussy and telling you how much she missed you.

-gymrat abby who does hip thrusts with you on top of her cause she can never miss out on a chance to tease you. 

-gymrat abby who only wants you to come to the gym cause she hates being away from you for too long.

-gymrat abby who could literally burn water in a kettle.

-pilates/yoga reader who always does the most tempting positions when abby’s watching and gymrat abby who falls for it every damn time.

-gymrat abby who has stamina for DAYSSS.

-gymrat abby who tries yoga with you once and fails miserably, too impatient to follow instructions and hold the positions for the right periods of time and too inflexible to do some of the positions. 

-gymrat abby who comes home and ruins you in every position you teased her with during yoga, “you can take it baby, come on, i know you’re a good fucking girl”.

-gymrat abby who would live on protein shakes, scrambled eggs, and toast if it weren’t for you.

-gymrat abby who uses every opportunity to remind you she's stronger than you. 

[igsuhrheos]

Taking Mommy

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Reader

summary: wanda wants to try out a new toy and natasha knows the perfect position

tags: breeding kink, cum strap on, mating press, mommy wanda, dom natasha, sub reader, voyeur natasha, natasha is in the doghouse, restraints, light nipple play, light degradation, hint of subspace

pet names - sweet girl, good girl, little girl, honey, baby,

she/her pronouns used for r

authors note: more breeding kink is finally here 💞

ao3 | masterlist

Wanda and Natasha lead you into their bedroom after a long night of teasing. You squirm where you stand as they kiss each other but you’re on your best behaviour. Natasha has toed the line enough tonight that Wanda would be happy to take out on you in the form of edging. Hours of it.

Natasha tries to unbutton Wanda’s pants but her hands are slapped away. Another sign of her annoyance is Wanda turning to you instead of undressing Natasha.

“Our sweet girl,” she murmurs as she pulls you in closely. You lean into her warmth eagerly and swear you can taste Natasha on her lips when they brush against your own. You lick your lips when she pulls back. “Let’s get you out of those pretty clothes.”

You obediently stand still as Wanda crooks a finger at Natasha to summon her over. Natasha runs her eyes over you with a heat that has you squirming again. Wanda gestures to the floor and you swallow hard as Natasha kneels down in front of you. She unbuttons your pants without breaking eye contact. 

Wanda reaches out and skilfully unbuttons your shirt, finally pulling your gaze away from Natasha. Wanda doesn’t lock eyes with you like Natasha did, instead her gaze drinks in every inch of skin revealed to her.

“Good girl,” she murmurs quietly as she slips the shirt off of your shoulders.

You preen slightly but try to hold yourself back. Holding still for Wanda isn’t hard. At least not when she isn’t teasing you. She holds your arm as you step out of your pants and Natasha is standing in front of you a moment later. Her eyes drop to your lips and she leans in but a sharp click of Wanda’s tongue has her stepping away.

“Go sit in the chair,” Wanda says, pointing to the one conveniently facing the side of the bed.

Natasha raises an eyebrow but doesn’t protest. You try not to show how disappointed you are at not getting to kiss her as she walks over to it. Wanda lightly grips your chin and turns you to face her. She pulls you in for a long, deep kiss that has you melting against her. You barely notice as she backs you towards the bed. It’s only when the backs of your knees hit it that she pulls away. You chase her lips but a hand on your chest stops you. She coaxes you towards the centre of the bed and you watch in awe as she crawls towards and then on top of you.

“Just relax,” Wanda says softly as she gently runs her hands over you. You’re already in that spacey place and it’s easy to sink back into the mattress. Wanda gently running her hands over your skin isn’t helping. Her hands run over your inner thighs and a small sound escapes you.

“Oh, honey,” she coos, “is this where it hurts?” You nod desperately. “Oh, poor thing. Nat was so mean to you tonight, wasn’t she?” She pouts sympathetically. Natasha snorts which Wanda ignores and you don’t dare to look away from her. “Mommy will make it better.”

You watch her with wide, trusting eyes as her hands move from your thighs and up to cup your breasts. She leans down and you meet her lips eagerly as she plays with your nipples, worsening the ache they both had spent the evening growing. You reach up to wind your fingers through her hair but she stops you.

“Ah,” she scolds, “No touching.” You pout but she only raises an eyebrow, “Does mommy need to tie you up?” You shake your head with pleading eyes. Even on the nights Wanda tells you not to touch, she ends up begging you to before the end, except when you’re hands are tied. 

You press the back of your hands onto the bed either side of your head to show you’ll behave. Her eyes softens at your obedience and she leans in again. It’s easy to lose yourself in her soft lips but you lose control when she pinches one of your nipples. It’s mean and she knows it is but she loves the sweet sound you make. Your hand flies to her shoulder without thinking. Wanda grips your wrists in a bruising grip and shoves them against the bed. A second later the padded cuffs are around your wrists. It takes you a long moment to catch up. You hadn’t even realised you’d been touching her. You tug at them and Wanda gives you a scolding tap on the thigh. You give her a pleading look. You didn’t mean to. 

She happily ignores you and leans over to the bedside drawer. You watch curiously. You haven’t been naughty enough to be worried. Natasha uncrossing her legs catches your eyes. You look up to find her solely focused on you, a small smirk playing about her lips. She knows something you don’t. You turn your head back to Wanda as she pulls out a strap-on and harness. A bit bigger than usual but the dim lighting doesn’t let you see anything significant. It doesn’t look familiar.

Wanda settles back on her heels and looks down at you with blown pupils. 

“Mommy bought a special toy for tonight,” she says in that breathless excited way she sometimes gets. You perk up curiously. Is it a vibrating dildo?

“Why don’t you let me put it on for you?” Natasha asks. You try not to smile. Normally she wouldn’t ask but she’s pissed Wanda off enough to be a little submissive. Or…at least not so directly dominant.

Wanda gives her a considering look. Natasha hasn’t protested once about the side-lined position Wanda has put her in and she’s listened to every command she’s been given so far.

Wanda nods and waits for Natasha to come to the bed and hold her hand out. Wanda grabs it and Natasha helps her gracefully get out of the bed. Natasha kisses the back of her hand as she slowly lowers herself to her knees.

Wanda had lost her shirt when getting you into bed and Natasha takes advantage of this by pressing gentle kisses over Wanda’s stomach while she unbuttons her pants.

Natasha kisses a path down Wanda’s thigh as she pulls her pants down her legs before stopping to allow Wanda to step out of them. Natasha toes the line again when she sits back up on her knees to nudge Wanda’s clit. Her tongue sneaks out and Wanda’s head falls backwards with a soft moan. She basks in the attention for a few moments, until Natasha dips her tongue lower. She immediately pushes Natasha’s head away and clicks her tongue.

“That’s not what you’re here for,” she says. Natasha is completely unrepentant but obeys the silent command anyway. She’s too focused on the straps to continue to tease Wanda but you’re still fascinated by her concentration. Natasha has worn a strap-on a thousand times. She could put one on with her eyes closed. And yet she is still so focused when putting one on Wanda. Testing and adjusting as needed, fingers brushing against skin only slightly longer than needed. It’s is own form of worship.

When’s she’s done, Wanda leads her to her feet and kisses her soundly. The only other point of contact is Wanda’s guiding hand on Natasha’s chin. A thank you.

Wanda pulls away and tilts Natasha’s head towards the chair in a silent command. Once again, she obeys easily. Wanda turns her full attention back to you. You watch with wide eyes as the strap sways with each motion. You manage to pull your eyes away when she climbs on top of you.

“I’m going to go slow to start with, okay baby?” she reassures.

You nod your head and spread your legs wider. Wanda runs the head of her strap through your soaked folds a few times before she guides the tip to your entrance. She pushes in slowly and your head falls back at the delicious feeling of her stretching you open again. Wanda murmurs quiet praises as she slowly pushes in to the hilt, watching as your face slowly relaxes with pleasure. She gives you a moment to get used to the slightly bigger toy by peppering soft kisses all over your face. You smile wide, almost to the point of giggling.

“Ready?” she asks, eyes flicking between your own.

“Yes, please,” you say, wishing you could tangle your hands in her hair.

Smiling, Wanda slowly pulls out halfway before pushing back inside of you. She does it twice more before you can’t take it anymore.

“Faster. Please,” you beg. You know it’s bigger than usual but the slow pace after hours of teasing is torture.

Wanda mustn’t be in the mood for getting you to the point of desperate begging because she speeds up immediately. Her hips slam against yours and you try desperately to meet her thrusts as that heat inside of you builds. She’s still not pounding into you and you try to squirm to get what you want, irritate her just enough for her to lose that little bit of control, but the handcuffs and her tight grip on your hips stop you from moving too far. Wanda’s thrusts stay deep but you try to get her deeper inside of you anyway by arching.

 “That’s it, take it,” she groans, “Take it, baby. All of it.” You don’t know how she can possibly get any deeper inside of you but you spread your legs further anyway.

“It’ll work better with her legs up,” Natasha muses from her chair. Wanda cuts her a glare.

“Then I won’t be close enough,” she says. Natasha shakes her head and says something in Sokovian that has Wanda’s pupils blowing. Her eyes turn to you and you swallow.

“Mommy’s going to try something new, okay?” 

You nod slowly. Trying something new with Wanda has always ended well but there’s a sharp, desperate edge to her tonight. Similar to the first time she had collared you, yet you don’t know what’s different tonight.

Wanda grasps under your knees and slowly pushes your legs up. You let her move you how she wants like you always do but your expression is obviously confused.

Wanda slowly pushes inside you and let’s out a quiet “oh.”

“See?” Natasha says smugly. Wanda doesn’t deign to respond, pushing so deep inside of you that you moan.  “No legs to get in the way, you can get as deep inside of her as possible.” 

You whimper at the words and Wanda opens her eyes. They’re ravenous.

“Stay just like that, baby,” she says like you have any control in this situation. Wanda slowly pulls out before pushing back in again. Her strong hands keep you still even as you moan beneath her.

“She’s going to look so pretty when you ruin her,” Natasha continues. “Dumb baby probably doesn’t even know what’s happening to her.” Wanda’s thrusts get harsher with every taunt and it’s not long before you’re a writhing mess under her.

“Is that right?” Wanda’s breath is hot against your face, “You don’t know what mommy is doing to her little girl?” She thrusts into you when you try to answer and you’re too choked by pleasure to continue. Pleasure is hot in your veins and the effort to think just isn’t worth it. “Answer me, baby.”

“Fucking me,” you manage to gasp. 

Wanda laughs and Natasha isn’t far behind her.

“Poor baby,” Natasha’s mocking tone has you arching into Wanda. “I bet you don’t even know what this position is called.” You can’t remember your own name right now. A hand on your face has you turning. Wanda is so focused on fucking as deep inside you as possible that she doesn’t snap at Natasha to sit back down. “It’s the mating press,” Natasha says, “Mommy’s breeding you.” 

That thing snaps inside of you and white hot pleasure floods your brain. You arch as you peak and all you can feel is Wanda buried deep inside of you. She’s muttering something against your skin and Natasha is stroking your hair as you lie limply in their hold. 

It’s only when you’ve managed to get ahold of your breathing that Wanda carefully lowers your legs. One hand quickly returns to your stomach and you blink owlishly at it. You feel…wetter than normal but Wanda is still so tightly pressed against you it’s hard to tell. Natasha tugs your chin up so that she can kiss you.

“So hot,” she murmurs between each kiss. “So hot when mommy’s ruining you.” 

You melt. Her hand snakes down to pinch and twist your nipples and soon you’re whimpering pathetically into her mouth. Wanda’s patience doesn’t last long.

“That’s enough,” Wanda snatches Natasha’s hand away. “She can go again.”

“Can she?” Natasha raises an eyebrow, “She looks pretty beat to me.” 

Wanda turns soft eyes on you and she coos, “You can do one more for me, can’t you? My special girl.”

You mange a nod and Wanda grins.

Natasha chuckles and shakes her head, “She always bites off more than she can chew.”

Wanda stretches you open again and you find you don’t really care. You’ll do whatever mommy says.

[igsuhrheos]

GIRLKISSER + TOP ELIZABETH OLSEN ALEXA PLAY THAT SHOULD BE ME…

[igsuhrheos]

hiii😸

i wanna request wanda with hugs no. 31😻 ur fluff is so good i want to bash my head into the wall

/pos

hope u get free from ur writer's block!!😻

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging while straddling the partner | words: 2066k | warnings: (+18), dark(ish)!wanda, smut, bottom!reader, dom!wanda mainly, implied variant death sorry, but happy ending for the main.

a/n-> this is the last one actually, i got my drafts confused if you saw more in the masterlist you didn't. i won't be posting anything for a while now just to write new series but I won't be gone for long I hope.

challenge masterlist | general masterlist

-&-

Considering all the things that had happened until she reached this moment, Wanda expected there to be more noise.

Fighting. Or even pain.

Two years and six hundred and eighty-four universes and she had finally found you.

Not a fallen hero version, not an evil clone, not a dead wife.

Just you, available, alive and asleep.

The room was dimly lit by the rays of sunlight that passed through the half-open curtain. Her variant must have gotten up early to prepare breakfast, and Wanda took complete control before she could even open the door. She took in little of the room, mostly focused on your sleeping figure in the bed in the corner, peaceful and vulnerable.

Five universes ago a variant of you had tried to arrest her for crimes against the multiverse, so this calmness was quite the bonus.

She quickly inspected the most recent memories before the deepest ones. This Wanda didn't know she loved you like that, not yet. Young and naive, this variant was rewarded with an entire childhood and adolescence by your side. Friends since kindergarten, the deep intimacy between you was beautiful to watch. Easy to envy.

It was a sadistic joke that in all the universes, she was the only one having a miserable life.

Controlling her own irritation, Wanda pushed those memories away and sighed deeply. You moved, searching for her warmth in the mattress and she wondered if your variant was already sure of what she knew many universes ago. You were made for each other.

She watched you with some curiosity. She still wasn't sure how she would do it. She hardly had a clear plan. She took very deliberate actions now, which was probably why she always ended up with some wizard on the way, close to some interdimensional prison.

But as you woke up, Wanda felt around that reality. There was magic like most, but it wasn't as strong even in the body she occupied now. This Wanda was a beginner witch, with simple levitation or tarot tricks that she could use to make you laugh in admiration.

Your sleepy figure finally opened its eyes, felt the bed, turned your face, and faced her standing in the middle of the room. Wanda felt so small, not at all like the great Scarlet Witch. She was almost like a child, eager to please. To be liked. When you frowned at her, she wondered if you were already able to tell she was a fraud, an impostor.

But your expression softened, and you chucked hoarsely.

 "Were you watching me sleep? Creep."

Oh, you had no idea.

Wanda swallowed, forcing a chuckle. "I wasn't." She lies quickly, pushing away emotional nausea as your tousled-haired, sleepy-eyed figure brings back similar memories of a life she doesn't know how to get back. She clears her throat and looks away so you don't see the tears welling up in her eyes. "I was just going to get breakfast. Do you want anything?"

"Yeah." You chuckle relaxedly, patting the mattress as you rest your elbows on the bed, your back against the headboard. "Come back to bed. It's too damn early."

She sees it then, when the sheet loses in your body and she catches a glimpse of your neck full of purple marks. The most recent memories are indeed different from what she searched for before. Peeking again, it's a bit overwhelming to be invaded by the sensations of your kisses and groping all at once, a night of steamy making out in that bed, after a college party that ended long after the time you and the variant returned to this dorm. Wanda sighs, realizing that this body misses your touch just as much as she does. So addictive for every single one of her, no matter the universe.

But her silence brings a hesitation to your face, and you settle better in bed. 

"Hey, if this is about last night..." You begin, a little awkwardly with a nervous giggle. One of your hands pushes your hair back in a nervous gesture, and Wanda gasps softly. The tattoo on her forearm has very familiar symbols. She searched every corner of the multiverse and ended up with a punk covered in protective runes. This was Strange's work, of course. He was probably going to as many worlds as she was. Protecting variants before Wanda could reach them. Take them for herself. You, oblivious to the whole thing, kept talking. "It's okay if you regret it. We don't even have to talk about it if it's weird. I mean, if you want we can even go back to being just friends, I definitely don't want to lose-"

"You're not." She cuts you off, taking steps towards the bed. You fall silent in surprise, but Wanda forces a smile. "Where did you get that tattoo again?"

You frown at the sudden change of subject, stammering a little as you try to remember and then finally laugh, looking at her with some confusion. "It's just reindeer, remember? That strange woman made it for us at the beach last week. It should go away soon."

Wanda searched a little more and found the memory you mentioned. Beach, friends, witches she didn't know, that this variant didn't know how to perceive yet. A witch using the opportunity to draw protective spells on your skin as if she could read the danger in your future.

She took a deep breath and walked closer until she felt her shins hit your bed.

"Maybe you should take it off now."

You hum absently, looking at the tattoo. "Why? I liked it. You also said it was pretty. Maybe I could even make it permanent-"

"No!" She snaps back through gritted teeth, startling you a little. Forcing a smile then, Wanda considers the options. She probably can't mess with your memory right now, maybe she can keep you calm, until she finds an appropriate solution. "I just... I think your first tattoo should be something more meaningful, sweetheart. And not some cheap art from a charlatan, huh?"

You frown, before your chucle again, looking at her with confusion. "Wanda, are you high?" We got our first tattoos together in high school. Have you really forgotten that?" You look upset. Wanda hates this. Hates it with all her might. Out of everything she’s ever done, hurting you is probably the most painful and stupid thing she ever did.

She shakes her head, forcing a giggle. She bends her knees and crawls towards you, which immediately wipes the frown off your face.

Young people and their hormones.

“Oh, babe, I just got confused. I’m sorry.” She begins, and you swallow hard as she takes her place on your lap. Your hands hesitate on the mattress until Wanda grabs them and moves to her waist. “Don’t be upset.”

With your mouth dry, you try, “I’m not.” but it comes out so hoarse that Wanda wouldn’t have heard it if she hadn’t been so close. Her hands close behind your head, and you wait for her to make the first move like the good girl you’ve always been no matter what universe.

Wanda shouldn’t risk it, but she can’t resist. You seem so eager for her to do it too that she doesn’t have the heart not to. The kiss starts out innocent, tentative. She wants to know the extent of the protection runes, and eventually, she realizes that you were right about the ink coming off. Wanda manages to turn you into a mess of breathless whispers as she slides her tongue against yours, and once your arms are tightening around her waist, invading beneath her shirt, she can feel the runes melting in your skin, until finally, she feels no magic resistance. You are all hers to play with.

But like everything else she’s done, Wanda didn’t quite calculate what kissing you would do to her. The effect on her body is ridiculously incapacitating and distracting. She knows she should be muttering spells, but all that comes out of her mouth are affected gasps. Your hands move down, grabbing her ass and grinding her against your lap and Wanda forgets what she came here to do.

"I cannot believe..." You groan suddenly, between one kiss and another. "That we've gone so long without doing this." Wanda bites your lip, pulling and making you whimper, the sound sending a sharp throb through her belly. Your dilated pupils stare at her with such adoration that Wanda needs a moment.

She remembers those looks. She remembers everything. And it's only fair that you remember too.

Coming closer, she kisses you more fervently now. Enough to make you squirm on the mattress, trying to pull her down, increase the friction between your hips. But Wanda knows the passion will turn, so she controls the kiss, controls everything.

One of her hands wraps around your hair, and she's still kissing you, taking the air from your lungs as the first memories dance in flashes behind your eyes.

You frown in confusion, trying to pull away, but Wanda kisses you again, and again until you gasp in shock and her magic goes deeper into your mind, invading you without you even realizing it.

Wanda's free hand suddenly goes inside your pants and you gasp against her mouth, surprised by the touch before surrendering completely to her.

Wanda pants into your mouth, and red irises glare at you when you break the kiss with a moan. She's not gentle, her fingers pushing your panties aside and not bothering to collect much of the surrounding moisture before sinking inside, filling you up all at once. She twists her hand, pushing deeper and you whimper into her mouth. Oh, how Wanda missed feeling you like this, coming undone against her fingers. 

There’s a flash of memories again, of a team of heroes and a battle, but Wanda adjusts her hand and her palm presses against your clit, and you break into a moan and throw your head forward on her shoulder. She hums in satisfaction, the hand that’s not inside your pants moving past your hair, to your back in an attempt to calm you. 

The memories will get worse, you’ll remember everything eventually. 

Wanda knows that sooner or later you will- Your hand wraps around her throat suddenly. She’s startled, of course, but the sound sounds much more like a moan than a protest of pain. Your eyes glow the same scarlet as hers, and the once-innocent expression carries a maturity that only memories of a lifetime could give you. Your hips are still moving—hard and fast against her hand, but Wanda feels much less in charge. You squeeze her neck as you come, and she feels so ridiculously turned on that she can barely move her fingers, being used up in the final waves of your climax. Not a second later, your hand pushes hers away, and her body is pushed next. Pressed against the bed with you on top, instead of holding her neck, you hold both your hands above her head.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on, but this is a very welcome way to bring someone back to life."

She chuckles affectedly, with emotion, with lust. A little - a lot - of both. But in the end, emotion wins. The tears in her eyes are indeed from longing.

"It's so good to see you again, darling." She says hoarsely, her hands still clasped on top of her head.

You sigh, loosening your grip without letting go of her. "Wanda, how..." But she looks like she'll start crying, for real, if you have to explain. You sigh again in defeat and soften your gaze. "How about that coffee? And you explain everything to me calmly."

She nods, smiling tearfully. "You'll have to get off of me first." She jokes, but you look at her mouth and get a little closer to her face. 

"Yeah, in a minute. I don't know how long it's been, honey, but you've managed to get even more stunning." 

She laughs shyly. "Good to know you're still a flirt." 

"Only with my girl." That's what you say before closing the distance. Wanda doesn't need to think about anything or worry as long as she has this. No multiverse, no possible dead variants. She has you, and that's all that matters.

[igsuhrheos]

no dialogue . reader masturbating . abby masturbating . abby’s a p star . smut . mdni

it was the late hours of the night, you were bored and pent up. you’re browsing online, looking for something to watch. but you feel it again, a sense of desire bubbling within you. you lived alone, so there wasn’t much you could do, and no one in your contacts you could realistically call for ‘help’. so, it was just you, twitter, and that pretty pink heart shaped vibrator.

you stumble across an account on twitter named a.anderson. your finger scrolls through her account, not finding much besides retweets of ocean life and work routines. you sigh in defeat, your cursor hovering over the exit tab, but something catches your attention.

there was a video, captioned ‘preparing myself for you.’ you click on it, intrigued by the suggestive caption and loud whines start echoing throughout the room. you’re quick to turn the volume down before you could get a really good look at her, and when you do, it’s captivating.

her entire body was bare, leaving her extremely defined muscles exposed. her thighs were wrapped around her pillow and she begins to grind her cunt against it. she throws her head back in pleasure, a low gravelly ‘fuck’ leaving her lips.

you were entranced by her, your eyes locked onto every movement. you don’t miss the way her muscles start to tense when she catches an angle that hits her clit perfectly. you were completely swooned by her and you never even met the girl.

she brought her arms up to flex and you swear you felt another gush of arousal spill out into your underwear. she was showing herself off, displaying her bulky biceps and abs. you watch as she shifts her position, switching to a side view. her hips rock against the pillow with little to no effort, small gasps filling the silence.

you were so focused on abby’s pleasure, you completely forgot about your own. you reach for the small device, still keeping your eyes glued to the screen. a low buzz echoed throughout the room as you pressed the toy to your core. it felt like a moment of intimacy, though you couldn’t talk to her, it still felt like a shared experience.

your hole continued to clench around nothing when you watched abby. the vibrations plus her soft moans brought you closer to orgasming. you felt your body starting to relax, leaning your head back against the headboard. you were right there, it only took a little bit more and abby was more than happy to give it to you.

she replaces the pillow with her fingers and begins to start thrusting them in and out of her. you watch her veins become more prominent with each movement, her greedy pussy sucking her fingers in for more. and it’s all that takes for you to come undone at the sight, your juices flooding the sheets. you were left in a state of ecstasy, resulting in dizziness and a realization of your actions.

before you could even clean up, you click on the follow button and search for another video of hers.

[igsuhrheos]

𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝐻𝑖𝑡

pairing: wanda maximoff x gn!reader

summary: You and Wanda hotbox a car, then fuck.

content warnings: reader has a penis, drinking, smoking weed, car sex, blowjob, handjob, unprotected sex, restraints, creampie, putting out a joint on skin

word count: 4.2k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

A/N: shout out to Rae for helping me understand what it feels like to be high ily pooks @wndaswife ♡

“Hey.”

You look around, squinting against the flashing lights. The basement smells like old beer, and there’s something suspiciously sticky on the bottom of your shoe. Wanda is shouldering her way through the crowd, her eyes locked on you. 

“This frat is totally lame, babe,” you say, raising your voice slightly so she can hear you. You reach out, pulling her in by the waist, your back resting against the wall. It’s slightly cold, but you don’t mind. The air feels stale, the warmth from the multitude of bodies packed into the basement making your skin damp with sweat.

Wanda rolls her eyes, finishing the rest of her beer before chucking it into the crowd. You don’t see it land, distracted by her hands on your shoulders. She’s feeling you up, running her fingers over your muscles for a moment before leaning in, her chest pressing against yours while her lips tickle your ear. 

“Wanna get out of here and smoke?”

You chuckle, nodding as she pulls back, her eyes glinting under her thick eyeliner. One of her rings catches on the fabric of your shirt as she pulls away, your hand finding hers and leading her toward the exit. 

Wanda’s car isn’t hard to find, the slightly chipped red paint standing out as you open the door for her. It isn’t much, but it was her brother’s car before he went overseas in the Army, and Wanda takes good enough care of it. She never lets you drive it, though. 

“The usual spot?” You ask, pulling out some rolling paper and your bag of weed. You double-check your pockets, finding two lighters and pulling them out. 

“Yeah,” Wanda says, her hand resting on the back of your headrest before she pulls out of the parking spot. It’s hot, and you make sure to return her smirk, adjusting how you’re sitting when her hand drops to your thigh. 

“And, you’re good to drive?”

Wanda rolls her eyes, giving you a look. “I had like, half a beer. Don’t worry so much. I saw the way you shotgunned with that one blonde guy, if anyone should be worried about how much alcohol they’ve drank, it’s you.”

Holding up your hands in mock surrender, you shake your head. “I don’t even know who that was, but who am I to pass up a free beer?”

You would start rolling a joint, but Wanda isn’t the calmest driver. She has one foot up on the seat, her fingers cranking up the music, metal blaring and reverberating around your skull. You lurch forward as she slams on the brakes, swearing under her breath as a car cuts her off, merging at the last second to exit the highway. 

“Fuckin idiot,” she glares, one hand running through her hair as the road stretches out. It’s late, with barely any other cars in sight. 

The hand on your thigh moves slightly, dragging up further as Wanda drives. You can feel your head pounding slightly, the alcohol making its way through your system, and your ears still ringing from the loud music that had bounced around the walls of the basement. 

Gravel sounds out under the tires, a sign that you’re close to the usual smoke spot. It’s secluded, with a great view of the city. Thick trees tower around you, and when Wanda kills the engine, the only sound is the occasional cricket or bird call. 

“Give me one,” Wanda says, her fingers grabbing a rolling paper before you can respond. 

“Damn,” You mutter, opening the baggie full of weed. The scent hits you, and you breathe in deeply. “You’re needy tonight.”

“Fuck off,” Wanda rolls her eyes, glancing at your crotch. “If anyone’s needy, it’s you.”

Smirking, you roll your hips for a moment, your bulge noticeable. “Guilty as charged, can you blame me? Your ass and legs look great in that skirt.”

Wanda scoffs, but you see the pleased blush she wears. You shake some weed out on your rolling paper before handing her the baggie, your gaze lingering on her focused expression as she does the same. Your fingers move, muscle memory taking over as you roll the joint, stuffing some more weed into it with the end of a pen. You offer it to Wanda, and don’t try to hide the way your bulge grows when her fingers brush yours. 

“Lighter, baby?”

You hand it over, licking the end of your paper as you finish rolling your joint. Wanda lights the end of hers, sucking in deeply before turning to you and exhaling, a lazy grin spreading on her face. 

“That good, huh?” You ask, taking the lighter and lighting your own joint. You suck in a breath, loving the slight burn at the back of your throat.

Wanda hums, dropping her head back until it hits the headrest of her seat, blowing smoke toward the ceiling slowly. You watch her do a couple of tricks, her grin spreading wider with each minute that passes. You adjust your hips again, spreading your legs further and getting comfortable, watching Wanda grow hazier as more smoke fills the car. 

“Are you feeling anything?” You ask, inhaling deeply as Wanda lets out a satisfied sigh. 

“Not yet, but it shouldn’t take long,” she responds, flicking ash into the metal tin that sits between you two. “We’re gonna be stoned soon with the way we’re hotboxing this shit.”

You don’t respond to that, feeling a warm fuzziness grow within your chest. Your limbs begin to relax, your lips tingling slightly. Catching a glimpse of yourself through the haze, you stare at your reflection in the side mirror. Part of you is aware of your hair loosely hanging over your forehead, Wanda’s hand resting on your thigh as she stretches out, and the joint feeling warm between your fingers. 

“Take another hit, baby,” Wanda murmurs, her voice low and soothing, her fingers finding the knob of the CD player and turning the volume lower until the music is no longer jarring. Your eyes roam around the car briefly, your chest feeling warm as you smile lazily. Wanda’s fingers are cool as they touch your hand, bringing the joint to your lips. 

The bass flowing through the car fills you, your heart thumping to the beat as you take another hit. Wanda fiddles with her phone, her auburn hair glowing slightly before she turns her screen brightness down. 

You can’t quite remember how you got in the car, or what you were doing earlier that night. It doesn’t matter. Wanda is here, and her green eyes are warm and big and looking right at you, her fingers reaching for your lap as low jazz fills the space. Your reflection is back in the side mirror, your face flushed as Wanda’s fingers brush your bulge again while grabbing a rolling paper. 

“Baby, where’s the weed?”

You chuckle. Wanda is asking where the weed is. It’s right here, silly. It’s… it’s-

Wait. Where is the weed?

“Fuck, um,” you mumble, your body weightless as you lean forward. When did your seat recline? You search around, your fingers brushing Wanda’s as she leans toward you. She’s giggling, her hair smelling like vanilla as she leans into you. Her breath is warm, her lips are soft, and her hands are all over you. They wrap around your waist and skate over your thighs, your fingers finally feeling the plastic baggie on the floor near your boots as her lips suck gently on your neck. 

“Found it.”

“Hm?” Wanda’s voice is all around you, her body practically on top of yours as she leans further into your space. She smells delicious, your skin aflame where her fingertips drag over it, lifting your shirt slightly to stroke your hips. 

“The weed,” you say, your voice somehow sounding both miles away and eerily omnipresent. You hold up the bag, smiling at Wanda’s hand quickly grabbing it. 

You pull out two more rolling papers, Wanda having dropped hers somewhere on the floor, and the silence stretches comfortably as you both focus on the task in front of you. It’s soothing to roll the joint, your fingers moving with practiced ease before you twist the end, your hand moving to Wanda’s thigh where the lighter rests. 

Smoke swirls lazily around you, the car reeking of weed. You find it comforting, the layers of jazz music blending and mixing together into a single endless stream as it flows through your consciousness. 

Wanda hums slightly as she finishes her joint, letting you take the lighter from her lap before she looks over at you. Moving slowly, she somehow manages to move from the driver's seat to your lap, straddling you and pulling the lever to recline the seat fully back.

“Get comfortable,” Wanda murmurs, stealing the lighter from your slack fingers and chuckling at your open-mouthed expression. 

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. It’s not a giggle, it’s a laugh. Definitely not a giggle. God, it’s just so funny, the way she- wait. What was funny?

Wanda is inhaling, her lips wrapped around the end of her lit joint, the flame casting sharp shadows on her face. Her irises glow for a brief moment as the reflection dances in her glassy eyes before she flicks the lighter off with a practiced motion of her thumb. You think it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen.

Smoke is blown softly into your face, and you eagerly sit up, your muscles flexing as you grab her around the waist. “Do it again,” you beg, and part your lips. 

You long to feel her soft lips on yours, and you feel your cock throb hotly when Wanda grips your jaw with one hand, the other bringing the joint to her smirking lips. Everything else fades, the jazz music dulling and the city view out the window dimming as you focus on her. You breathe in when she does, releasing your breath quickly in anticipation. 

Those wonderful lips meet yours, and it feels like absolute heaven. Wanda breathes out, smoke and vanilla mixing as they fill your mouth and nostrils, every single sense of yours surrounded by her. You inhale carefully, breathing in her very essence as you feel your lungs burn slightly, the weed making your head spin pleasantly. 

“Good job, pet,” Wanda murmurs, kissing you fiercely. She bites into your lip, and you moan lowly as you exhale, smoke expelling from your lungs and joining the swirling mist in the air of her car.

She moves her hips, subtly grinding down on your lap. You feel yourself ache, your hips moving up to meet hers as you moan into her mouth. It’s over far too soon, the pressure building as she continues to move her hips, her lips detaching from yours as she leans back, arching her back and grinding harder. 

“Want something, baby?” Wanda asks, one hand bringing the joint to her lips while the other tangles with your hair and shoves your head back into the seat. 

“More,” you say, your voice breathy and echoing. Your head is fuzzy, your limbs weightless as your thumbs stroke her hips. 

Wanda leans down, the change in position pressing her hips firmly against your cock as it strains in your boxers. It feels trapped beneath your pants, but you make no move to release yourself. That’s Wanda’s decision. 

More smoke is inhaled directly into your mouth, and you eagerly suck it in. Wanda’s lips are all over you, sealed around your lips as she exhales fully, her fingers closing your mouth and forcing you to inhale. She kisses down your neck as you do, your throat bobbing as you fight a cough. Her lips feel like fire, her tongue dragging over your skin for a moment before she sucks gently near your collarbone.

“Fuck,” you whisper, watching the smoke escape from your lips as you speak, curling around Wanda’s hair when she sits back up. The joint is pressed into your fingers, the lit end casting shadows on Wanda’s face as she watches you place it between your lips. 

“Take a deep breath, baby,” Wanda whispers, her eyes intent. She looks almost hungry, and her hips shift on top of you when you nod obediently, filling your lungs with smoke. Strong fingers pinch your nose, Wanda licking her lips before speaking. “Hold it.”

You feel lightheaded, your limbs heavy and your chest warm. The warm tingly feeling spreads up to your shoulders and down your arms, your head fully relaxing on the seat as you lean back. Everything is comfortable, Wanda’s vanilla perfume mixing with the heavenly scent of weed, her figure slightly fuzzy as you peer through the haze of smoke. 

Wanda moves again, taking the joint from between your lips and letting go of your nose. “Breathe it out,” she murmurs, holding the burning joint away from her hair as she leans down to kiss you, eagerly inhaling the smoke you expel from your lungs. 

Time turns a bit fluid after that, the sensation of overwhelming warmth taking over you as Wanda sits on your lap, her hands mindlessly running over your torso. Her fingernails scrape down your chest, her palms warm as she feels your abs, one hand holding the joint to her lips. 

You find the joint pressed between your lips, the faint taste of Wanda’s vanilla lip gloss coating your tongue as you suck in. The smoke tastes more burnt than usual, the heat hitting your face as you realize the joint is almost out. 

“Another?” You look up at Wanda with wide eyes, feeling the muscles beneath your eyes contracting slightly as you squint against your will. She chuckles, the sound reverberating around the car before she grinds the end of the joint against the metal ashtray.

“No baby,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss you. “I want to suck on something else.”

“What-” You’re cut off when Wanda grinds her hips down harshly, reminding you of the aching hardness between your thighs. “Oh,” you say, a bit stupidly. 

The words feel weird on your tongue, your mouth not moving properly. So, you decide to do something else with your mouth instead, attaching it to Wanda’s neck and sucking. Her moans sound out, adding to the layers of fuzz building in your head while the blood in your body rushes down to your throbbing cock, her hips providing delicious friction as she grinds on your lap. 

You hear metal clinking, the sound cutting through the soft jazz and smoke, but you don’t have time to think about it before Wanda is grabbing your hands and wrapping something around them. The material bites into your skin slightly, and you let out a chuckle when Wanda finishes restraining you. 

“The seatbelt, really?”

Wanda smirks at you, pulling your hands above your head and attaching your seatbelt-wrapped wrists to the headrest. You’re not sure how she’s managed to effectively restrain you with the seatbelt strap, but when you test the restraints, you’re surprised at the limited movements you can make. 

The weight on your lap disappears, Wanda’s body shifting. You lazily look down, your muscles loose and movements slow. Somehow, your seat is shifted back until Wanda is able to fit herself on the floor, kneeling while she leans over your lap. 

Sharp teeth bite at your stomach, each jolt of pain sending heat directly to the tip of your cock. You can see it visibly straining through your pants, but Wanda makes no move to undo your zipper, her lips turned up into a smirk while she pulls your shirt up and begins leaving hickeys all over your hips and waist. 

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, throwing your head back and shifting your hips, rutting upward in search of any friction. Wanda carefully avoids your bulge, chuckling against your skin while her hands move to gently grab your chest. 

Your nipples stand at attention, pleasure blooming as the sensations cut through the haze in your mind. The only things you feel are Wanda’s teeth and hands, the rest of your body feeling disconnected as desperation fills you. 

“You’re so hot,” Wanda drawls, looking up at you with glassy eyes. Jazz fills your mind as blood rushes through your ears, your heartbeat loud as it pounds furiously in your chest. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

Her hands are warm, smoke shifting lazily through the air when she moves. Your pants are pulled down, a groan clawing its way out of your chest when you finally spring free, your cock pulsing at the thought of stimulation. You shift your hips again, seeing the dark look in Wanda’s eyes as she licks her lips before kissing your tip. 

“Fuck.”

You barely have any time to think before Wanda’s tongue is circling your tip, the stimulation teasing while you try to fuck further into her mouth. Hands grip your hips, pinning you to the seat, your face flushed as your head spins. 

Wanda loves how pathetic you look. Your head is thrown back, your eyes glassy and your pupils blown. You’re whining slightly, the sound wrapping around her head and sending pleasure shooting through her body. She loves how your body looks when you arch your back, your muscles trembling from the effort of chasing your pleasure. 

She wants you, her mouth feeling empty all of a sudden. With one last breath, Wanda seals her lips around the tip of your cock and sucks. 

You let out a loud moan, your hips jerking at the sensation. Wanda wastes no time, one hand gently fondling your balls while she takes you further in her mouth inch by inch. Her tongue works the underside of your shaft, licking your balls once she finally has your whole length in her mouth. 

Choking slightly as your tip hits the back of her throat, Wanda bobs back up, her tongue relentless as she licks the sensitive spot just under your tip. She bobs her head, taking your whole length in her mouth again, her cheeks hollowing while she sucks, swallowing around your length as it buries itself in her throat. 

“Yeah baby, just like that. Sucking my fucking dick so good.” You moan, pleasure filling you. Every sensation is heightened, the sound of Wanda sucking your cock filling the car as smoke swirls around her. You feel her moan, the vibrations causing your balls to tighten for a moment while your tip throbs at the back of her throat. 

Spit coats your length, smearing on her chin and dribbling out while she bobs her head up and down, your orgasm approaching. It’s filthy, her hand glistening when she wraps it around the base of your cock, stroking you slowly while she sucks. 

“I’m gonna cum.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Wanda growls, releasing the tip of your cock with a popping sound, panting as she takes you in. Her hand works your length, moving quicker while her other hand tightens around your balls. 

You whimper. “Baby, please.”

“I’m not done with you yet.” Wanda releases your cock, your length throbbing and twitching as it slaps onto your stomach. You can feel the combined juices of your precum and her spit as it smears over your lower stomach, your dick twitching every so often while you watch Wanda fumble with the clasp of her jeans. 

“Let’s smoke another joint while you fuck yourself with my cock,” you say, the idea popping into your mind. You speak the words quickly, your thoughts quieting again before you forget what you’ve spoken. Wanda’s eyes light up, and she leans over to kiss you solidly before grabbing the baggie of weed from the floor. 

Wanda moves quickly, her pants discarded as she straddles your hips, teasing the tip of your cock. She doesn’t move yet, just lets her juices run down the length of your shaft, your tip slightly pressing into her eager heat. 

A rolling paper is set out on your stomach, your abs flexing while you try to remain still. Wanda is focused, grinding on your tip with a teasing smile on her lips while her fingers move quickly. She rolls the joint in record speed, and before you know it she’s lighting the end and sucking in a full breath while sinking down on your length. 

You’re in heaven. 

Smoke fills the air again, the haze swirling about as Wanda lets out a low moan. She doesn’t move for a few seconds, her pussy walls clenching around you as she closes her eyes. Leaning back, she grabs one of your knees to support herself while bringing the joint to her lips again.

Then, she starts to move. 

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, your cock throbbing hotly as she lifts her hips only to sink back down. She grinds on you as she does so, her clit hitting the base of your cock perfectly with each movement of her hips. You can feel her arousal as she fucks herself, her juices coating your cock as she easily takes your whole length. 

Heat and pleasure fill you, Wanda’s hands grabbing your shoulders as she changes positions, fucking herself harder. It’s addicting, the sound of her moaning in your ear and the burn of smoke when she places the lit joint between your lips. Her fingers dig into your muscles, her hips trembling as she chases her orgasm. 

You can’t help but fuck up into her, loving the sound of your hips meeting hers while you thrust roughly. Her breaths are ragged, a low moan sounding out when you breathe in smoke, exhaling around the joint as you hold it between your lips. 

Everything is fuzzy. You feel a burning need in your stomach, warmth spreading throughout your whole body. Wanda is everywhere, her hands tangled in your hair, her lips on your skin and her pussy gripping you like she needs you to survive. One of her hands reaches down to rub her clit, and you take one last drag of the joint before she grabs it between nimble fingers and breathes deeply. 

“Gonna cum, baby,” she mutters, blowing smoke directly into your face. 

You nod, moaning low as her movements become erratic. She reaches down, her eyes glinting as she forces the joint between your lips. It’s almost out, the lit end flickering dimly as you breathe in, feeling your skin start to tingle. 

“Cum inside me,” Wanda whispers, smiling darkly at you as your cock throbs violently inside her at the words, her hand hovering over your chest. The lit end of the joint is hot and close to your skin, your heart racing as you begin to understand what her next move is.

“Hurt me,” you moan, your voice pleading as you continue to thrust up into her. Her hand moves quickly over her clit, her walls squeezing you as she begins to fall over the edge. Your skin burns, the lit end of the joint extinguishing on your chest as Wanda grinds it into you, her pupils blown while she moans. 

Her orgasm seems to last forever, a whispered command for you to cum sending you over the edge as pain and pleasure mix together. Your whole body seizes, your balls tightening as Wanda’s walls grip your cock, your hot cum spurting inside her. You feel nothing but warmth and pleasure, the slight burn on your chest amplifying every sensation as your head spins, Wanda’s tongue soothing the mark while she drops the joint in the ashtray.

“Good job, pet,” she murmurs, moving her hips as she fucks herself slowly on your length. Your cum seeps out of her, dripping onto you and smearing on your stomach. Wanda trembles, slowing completely before finally stopping, your cock buried deep inside her. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, every muscle in your body relaxing as your orgasm fades. You can feel your cock twitching, her warm walls gently squeezing you and keeping you hard. Your hands are released, Wanda’s lips kissing your wrists where the seatbelt dug into your skin. 

“I love seeing you like this,” she mumbles. 

You nod, knowing exactly what she means. Wanda loves control, and you love giving it to her. She craves being in charge of your pleasure, and you find it incredibly arousing to give your choice in the matter up to her. 

Wanda moves slowly, putting another rolling paper on your slightly damp stomach, your chest heaving from your orgasm. You don’t say anything, enjoying her presence as she prepares another joint. The smell wraps around you, vanilla mixing in the air as the haze lazily swirls about, jazz playing softly as you feel your cock start to harden again with each subtle shift of Wanda’s hips. It’s obscene, the way your cum and her arousal drip out of her, coating your length. 

You can’t focus on anything, your head fuzzy and warm as you feel your high pleasantly fill your body. Wanda lights the joint, the smell of freshly burning weed adding to the layers of sensations already present in the car. 

“Let’s finish this,” Wanda smirks, sucking more smoke into her lungs before placing the joint between your slack lips. You obey, taking a long, deep breath as her eyes darken at your submission. “I want you nice and pliant for me before we go again.”

Well, you certainly weren’t going to complain about that.

---

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[igsuhrheos]

Hello fav writer 🤭 saw the game so here my request!!

Wanda + touch + number 2 ! Pretty please ♡♡

Hope you're okay if not I send you a lot of love :)

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Drabbles

prompt: calloused hands in soft hands | words: 1183 | warnings: brief mentions of self-harming and violence, unhealthy coping mechanisms, winter soldier reader, takes place around civil war, fluff, kinda friends to lovers (unspecified).

A/N-> I wrote most of those on my phone, so I’m sorry if there are typos.

-&-

Nine hundred and ninety-eight.

Nine hundred and ninety-nine.

One thousand.

Start again.

One.

Two.

A drop of blood felt at your feet. The pain makes you flinch but you push again.

Three.

The bag makes a noise.

Four.

There's another crack and then the sand is mixing up with your blood.

You stop, panting. The destroyed bag is pushed off the holder so you can carry it away with the other ruined ones. 

The gym is empty because they only have two clients. Super soldiers from the 40s who got frozen in time and struggled to trust anything, even gyms, from the new century. But unlike you, Steve Rogers is getting better at training in public. He even goes running with some of the other veterans, you heard he even made a friend there.

You're not Steve. You never were. He was the good Rogers, you, well, let's just say Hydra didn't need to say much to charm you into the quickest way to find your brother again. A couple of lies later, and you found yourself in chains, losing the memories of your brother that were the reason why you accepted their bargain in the first place. Before you could protest, years were wasted as the Winter Soldier. 

Well, that's past now. Yet, you destroyed another pushing bag while remembering your past.

There isn't much to do when you ruin them all - you are left for some push-ups before Steve calls again. He's insistent on your presence in the tower tonight, someone's birthday whatever. You're not the party type. You cannot be his Bucky.

What's left of the bags are discarded in the community trash, and you make sure to lock the place as the old Mrs.Johnson - the son, not the father, as that man died before you got unfrozen by Hydra a fourth time - asked you to. 

But just as you're about to lock the old administration room, someone comes in.

Wanda is dressed in casual attire and they always make her look so not Avenger that it never fails to bring a smile to your face. She corresponds immediately, and you're not sure what good you've done in your life to deserve such sweetness but you're not complaining.

“Hey, you.” You greet her, keys in the lock but eyes on her. She repeats your words and you notice how shy she looks with her little anxious jump and hands safe in her pockets. “I thought you would be at the party tonight.”

She shrugs, a smile playing on her lips.

“I ran away.” She tells with a complicity you two have shared from the second you first met. Maybe being Hydra volunteers does bring people together. “I know you work out here so I thought… I don't know…”

She struggles to justify her presence but that just makes you smile.

“That watching me sweat was funnier? You're a flirt, Maximoff.” You tease her, enjoying the pink of her cheeks that she tries to hide with a chuckle. 

She mutters “very funny” but you don't push your teasing further as you lock the door and tug the keys away. Grabbing your old army jacket from the coat stand by the entrance, you hold the door open for Wanda to go out again.

“Let's grab something to eat. And you're paying Avenger.”

She laughs, retorting that technically you're an Avenger too and you're sure not contradicting a pretty girl today.

The place you two go for is a local diner. It is not full but it's not empty, at least not enough to go unnoticed. Especially with a Winter Soldier physic or the face of everybody's favorite little witch. So when you and Wanda manage to get to one of the last tables without anyone bothering for an autograph, you're sure she used her powers for that.

“You're getting better at this.” You tell her proudly which surprises her. While the Avengers often tell her to control her Hydra impulses such as manipulation of will, you don't seem to mind about the moral issues of it. You're just glad she's getting more confident in her own abilities, instead of blatantly embarrassing her for something opportunely useful like her team does. She smiles shyly in appreciation and you busy yourself with the menu.

But the second your bruised fingers are noticed, Wanda's mood changes. 

The waitress who is coming to the table suddenly has the will to turn back to the kitchen.

You watch as she moves the menu away from you to reach for your hands.

The softest fingers of the earth trace the lines of your calloused, over-abused hands. Every scar is touched before she looks up.

“Why would you hurt yourself like that?” 

You sign, not pulling away from her touch but struggling to stare into her eyes.

“Not all of it was me.” You try to joke, but the weak chuckle that escapes you turns into a nervous laugh as she doesn't smile. “ I did fight for one hundred years, you know?”

She shakes her head, the eyes scanning your face then looks down where your fingers are dancing together. 

“Steve said you were frozen for most of it.” She recalls with a strange hurt in her voice that makes you swallow hard. “And you're also a shooter. That wasn't that much of fighting back in the day.”

You smirk, one of your hands enveloping hers. Touch to touch warms your skin so tenderly that you barely feel the autumn cold coming from the windows.

“If I didn't know you, I would say you care about me.”

Wanda frowns and looks up, a serious look on her face.

“You do know me.” she says. “And you know I care.”

You're not surprised but you're speechless. You don't know how to do this. Whatever is between you and this charming woman.

So you just try your best to do what Steve always says you should: be honest.

Wanda watches as you sigh, hands still on the table, playing with hers.

It takes a moment, but finally, you add:

“The pain anchors me.” You start, risking taking a glance at her worried frown. “It just makes me feel I'm here instead of frozen again. It helps.”

It's her turn to sigh. When her hands move away you're worried you shared too much. You swallow, ready to push down your emotions when Wanda shifts in the bend to slide closer to you.

You tense, like a frightened animal but she doesn't make any sudden moves. Her actions are slow, the lift of her hand to your cheek, the tender smile before she leans in. 

For a whole moment, the world does freeze. But unlike any of the other times, you feel warmer than ever.

She pulls away just enough for you to look at her eyes again, nose to nose.

“Would this anchor you enough?”

You smile at her, your hands finding hers again on her lap. One of them, you lift to your mouth level just to kiss her soft skin.

“I wouldn't be able to be anywhere else, witchy.” 

[igsuhrheos]

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