leosmaxromanoff - Tumblr blog

leosmaxromanoff · 5 days ago

Text

VELVET FOCUS

sue storm x fem!reader

wc: ~6.8k

ao3

summary: you're a freelance photographer who gets a job photographing the fantastic four for a magazine spread.

warnings: nothing serious, Johnny flirts with you a little, one (1) makeout towards the end of the fic (and it ends quickly because i'm scared of writing smut🧍🏻‍♀️), lots of interaction with the rest of the team, probably inaccurate depiction of anthropology and the publishing industry, limited use of y/n, pretty canon compliant except for reedsue lol, no spoilers.

notes: i'm absolutely appalled by the lack of sue x reader fics on here. i’m usually a lurker but i had to do something about the sue drought. there’s quite a bit of plot on this. i’m not exactly sure what happened to me, i don’t normally write this much. i was driven to write this in a haze of desperation. you don't talk to sue as much as i would like but you do yearn™. i like it how it came out though.

enjoy :)

One of the many great pleasures of living in New York City is the copious amount of bagel spots there are. You can go to just about any corner store in the city and order yourself a decent bagel in any form. The spot you like to frequent is a little bodega about a block away from the apartment that you share with your best friend from college. It's run by a sweet Puerto Rican lady who has a daughter about your age, with whom she keeps trying to set you up with. From what you've heard about her, you're sure she's a nice girl but you doubt you have anything in common outside of being a similar age. You're not even sure you're looking for anything now anyway—you're more focused on finding your footing in a post-grad life. You still appreciate Isabel's efforts though, especially since she makes a mean breakfast sandwich.

"Estás muy flaca!" Isabel shouts at you from behind the counter as she assembles your breakfast sandwich. She doesn't even need to take your order anymore; she just starts making it as soon as you walk through the door.

You smile good-naturedly and shake your head fondly at her, but say nothing. Isabel has been telling you that you're too skinny for as long as you've been coming to her store. You grab an apple juice from the fridge and place it on the counter next to a Mars bar that you picked out for your roommate as a thank you gift for landing you a freelance photography job. It's a high profile assignment that's going to earn you a few hundred dollars.

As you stand there waiting for your order, you feel something small push up against your legs. You look down to see Chunk, a round, gray cat, weaving between your legs, demanding pets. You smile and reach down to give him a few scratches behind his ears, and are rewarded with a series of mews and purrs.

"Are you sure you're eating enough?" Isabel asks skeptically. She rounds the counter with your sandwich.

"Yes," you say with mock exasperation. "It's just winter. I'm pale."

"Alright, alright," she breathes out as she rings up your total.

You drop your change into the tip jar that sits next to your total and make your way to the exit.

"Adios," you say as you open the door. She waves back at you before taking the next customer's order.

The weather outside is cold and unforgiving, as it usually is in February. Your breath leaves your mouth in little foggy puffs of air. The sidewalk is littered with people rushing to get to where ever they have to be in the mornings. You just barely jump out of the way, as a group of kids runs past you to make their bus on time. You shiver and pull your coat closer to your body, and head in the direction of your apartment, your breakfast sandwich doing well to warm your hands.

When you walk through the door, you're greeted with your frazzled roommate, Chloe, running around the apartment like a chicken with its head cut off. You check your watch and see that she was meant to be at work nearly twenty minutes ago. She got a job at Time Magazine as a cub reporter for their Arts and Culture section right out of college. You weren't as lucky, but you still manage your end of the rent with your job at the bookstore and the odd photography gig. Sometimes you feel bad that she's carrying most of the bills, but she always insists that she's happy to do it. She's sure you're going to come up with a full time job soon enough. You wish you shared her confidence.

"What are you still doing here?" you ask as you set your things on the kitchen table.

"That's a great question," she says with a harried expression. "I seem to have misplaced my ID badge, and I can't get into the office without it."

You look around your usually tidy apartment, which is small but still spacious enough to comfortably house two people. It's currently in a state of disarray though—evidence of Chloe's panic. She runs into the hallway that leads towards your bedrooms, shouting something about double checking under her bed.

You sigh as you walk over to the living area and begin to dig through the couch cushions. There was a massive sale at Macy's a few years ago, so you and Chloe agreed to go halfsies on one of the couches that was on sale. It's a great couch, really comfortable, but the seats are so deep that you guys are constantly losing things in it. Your hand brushes over some loose change and something sticky that you don't dare to examine further. Eventually you feel your way to a small, glossy card and pull it out. A picture of her nervously smiling on her first day is looking back at you.

"I've got it!" you yell over her cries. "It was in the couch."

"Y/N! You are angel," she says, running over and immediately engulfing you in a hug. You laugh as you return it. "Thank you so much."

"Don't worry about it," you say. You look around the apartment and grimace at the mess.

"I will clean all of this up when I get home later today," she says, looking around her.

"I can do it," you say, meaning it. These days, you tend to be home most of the day. It only makes sense that you clean up.

"No," she protests. "Don't even think about it. You have your big photoshoot today. I don't want you lifting a finger for this place."

"Chloe," you laugh. "I don't have to go to that for like another four hours. Also you're the one who got it for me. Cleaning is the least I can do to thank you."

"The Mars bar is enough of a thank you," she says pointing at the chocolate bar lying on the counter.

Time is doing a piece on the Fantastic Four and their work-life balance. Chloe was tapped to write the story and interview the team. To have such a big assignment this early in her career was huge win for her. The two of you celebrated with the expensive champagne that you can't really afford from the liquor store beneath your apartment. When she found out that they were still looking for a photographer to do the spread, she brought them your portfolio and convinced them to hire you. If this goes well, you could get more editorial work in the future, and hopefully more money.

"You're being dramatic," you tell her.

"No, I don't care," Chloe says as she puts her coat on. "If this apartment is tidied by the time I get home today, I'm kicking you out."

"Really?" you say unimpressed.

"Mmhmm," she hums. "It's the Fantastic Four, you need to put all of your energy into it. I left a draft of the article on your desk so you can get a feel for the vibes. Remember the editors want casual and intimate!"

And with that, she's gone. You can hear her feet racing down the stairs of the walk-up as she runs to catch the train. You look around the apartment and decide that you really can't just leave it looking the way it does right now. You two are meant to be having friends over later tonight, to celebrate Chloe submitting her article. You adjust the coffee table and the couch cushions, and flip the rug back to it's rightful place on the floor. The rest you'll allow her to do.

You sit down at your desk with your apple juice and breakfast sandwich. Chloe's article is sitting atop a bunch of anthropology journals that you've been leafing through for inspiration for your thesis when you do eventually apply to grad programs. As a recent college graduate with an anthropology degree, there are really only a few directions you can go in from here—the typical one being grad school. You're not quite ready to jump back into academia though, so you've resolved to take a gap year, or two, to have some time to yourself. You still want to keep up with the advancements in your field, however. Hence the journals spread across your desk.

You've already read earlier versions of Chloe's article—she always shares all of her work with you before she submits anything even though you don't really know much about journalism. She tells you it's because she values your opinion over the old men she has for bosses. You think it's sweet, and are always happy to read her things. In return, she's always the first one to see your photographs.

The article takes a closer look at the day-to-day lives of the Fantastic Four, something the public isn't privy to very often. The only member you think you've actually seen in person casually is Ben Grimm, who likes to go to a nearby bakery to get cookies. The rest remain elusive to the general public—mostly only ever seen on screen or in headlines that you roll your eyes at. You'd like to think of yourself as someone who looks beyond the celebrity of it all. You're still psyched to be visiting the Baxter Building though.

You sip your apple juice and continue to skim the words in front of you. You have most of the shoot planned out in your head already, but this last minute look at the article is still helpful. Since it is meant to be a more intimate shoot in their home, it's just you who is being sent. You're only bringing one camera with you and a few different lenses, plus a handful of film rolls that you managed to wiggle out of the magazine's budget. Maybe you'll bring a flash, you think as you try to remember where you last put it.

You check the time and rub your hands together nervously. You can't fuck this up.

. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

The Baxter Building might be the fanciest building you've ever step foot into, and that's only including the lobby. You wish you were more into architecture so you could actually appreciate the full beauty of the building. There's a small seating area to the right of the entrance, with some large, potted plants that definitely aren't native to Manhattan. Further into the lobby, next to the elevators, is a reception desk. There's much less security than you were expecting for such a high profile building, though you suppose that a group of superheroes doesn't exactly need much protection from robbers.

You approach the reception desk and see a small woman with large glasses sitting behind the computer.

"Hi," you greet softly, not wanting to disturb the stillness of the lobby. "I'm here with Time Magazine. I'm the photographer." You hold up your camera and equipment bag as proof. You have the irrational fear that no one informed them of your photoshoot, and you actually just look like a manic stalker.

"Oh, yes," the lady says with a wide smile. "They told me you'd be coming."

You sigh in relief as she starts typing on her keyboard. You shift back and forth on your feet and look around the lobby. The tall ceiling has a very modern looking chandelier that almost looks like it's floating. The floors are polished and shiny, with not a scuff in sight. The windows are so clean that you can barely even tell they exist.

"Okay, dear," the receptionist says as she hands you a visitor's pass attached to a lanyard. "You take this, and then you can go ahead and take the elevator up to the very top floor."

"Thank you," you reply, looking at the pass. Somehow it has your picture on it even though you don't remember taking a photo. Looking closer, you realize that the picture was taken as you walked through the door. Okay, so maybe there is high-tech security after all.

You press a button and the elevator doors slide open easily, and you walk in. Even the elevator feels luxurious, with its wood paneling and freshly steamed carpet. You push the button with the highest number you see. You feel the elevator shudder to life and watch as the floors pass by. The smell of sandalwood fills your nose as you take a steadying breath. You think you hear the Fantastic Four jingle playing faintly and giggle to yourself at the thought of their own elevator playing their jingle. Marketing is a crazy thing these days.

You hear a soft ding before you're ready to, and the doors glide open into a large living space. You step out and look around—it's everything and nothing like you expected it to be. There's a predictable sleekness to the space but it remains warm and homey with the earthy tones of the wood panels and accents of oranges and yellows. The floor to ceiling windows flood the large room with light. You were expecting something polished, sterile, but instead you see a place that's cozy and lived in. There's an arm chair near the elevator with a blanket and throw pillow strewn about it, like someone might've been sitting there earlier. On a side table next to it is a stack of mail waiting to be opened. Picture frames of personal photos decorate the walls and tables all around.

A little robot rolls up to you, making a noise that resembles the word "Hello." It waves one of its little arms and moves to your right, pointing at a coat rack. The two discs that make up its eyes spin excitedly.

Before you can say anything, a person strolls through the foyer entrance with their hands in their pockets. Johnny Storm is standing in front of you, leaning against the wall.

"Well hello to you," Johnny Storm says appreciatively as he eyes you up and down. "Can I just say, you are very—"

"Johnny, she's here to do her job, not flirt with you." A man's voice cuts Johnny off from the stairs. He rounds the corner and you see Ben Grimm, already extending a large hand towards yours. "I'm Ben."

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. The robot makes a whirring sound, regaining your attention. Its hand waves in the general direction of the coat rack again and you quickly understand that you're meant to hang your coat up. You shed your coat and place it gently on the coat rack. You receive a robotic sound of approval in return.

"Don't mind Herbie," Johnny says, smirking at you. "He likes to keep a clean home."

"At least someone around here cleans," says someone from behind Ben. It's a woman's voice that you recognize to be Sue Storm's. A few days ago you heard it through your television as she announced some peace deal with a foreign country—it's much deeper and richer when you're standing right next to her.

She comes out from behind Ben and the greeting on your tongue slips away as soon as you see her. She's wearing a light blue turtle neck tucked into a black skirt. Her hair falls in gentle waves, just past her shoulders. Your eyes trace a path from her eyebrows, down her nose, and to her lips. You've seen pictures of her before, it's impossible not to really, but they don't account for how truly beautiful she is in person.

"I'm Sue," she says, holding her hand out to yours. "You must be Y/N."

"Yes," you say dumbly as you shake her warm hand. Her skin is needlessly soft and gentle.

Your trance is broken when Herbie maneuvers between you and Sue, making his way towards the kitchen. You drop her hand like a hot coal when you realize you're still holding onto it. You try to discreetly wipe your hands on your pants, rubbing off some of the sweat that's accumulated on them since you arrived. You hope she didn't feel the dampness of your palm. Suddenly, you notice Reed Richards standing next to her with a knowing smile on his face. Has he been standing there this whole time?

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you," you say, trying to regain control of yourself. You shake Reed's hand firmly and continue, "I'm a huge fan of your work."

It's true, you are a fan of theirs—and not just the superhero stuff either, but the real scientific advancements that they make. You don't study in any of their fields, but you are aware of their great achievements and have been following them casually for a while now.

"Thank you," Reed says diplomatically. "We saw a couple of your photos, we really loved your work too."

"You saw my work?" you blurt out, eyes wide. You knew the editors at Time would've had to see your work in order to hire you, but you never considered anyone else seeing your portfolio. Sue smirks at you, her eyes flashing with something you can't put your finger on. You avert your eyes quickly.

"There's some really impressive stuff in there," Johnny compliments and Ben nods in agreement.

"Thank you," you say, flattered. "Should we get started?" You're eager to take the attention off yourself.

"Of course," Reed says, taking the hint. "Where do you want us?"

You take another look around the large space that they've filled so beautifully, and feel wildly out of our depth.

"Why don't we begin with the group portraits in whatever room you spend the most time in together?" you suggest, swallowing your nerves.

They give you nods of confirmation and migrate toward the large conversation pit that sits in the heart of the room. The elegant curve of the light blue couch that winds around the pit would be rigid if weren't for the cushy throw pillows that litter it. You place your bag down on one end of the couch and prepare your camera for the photos you'll be taking. You quickly grab a lens that's suited for group shots and snap it onto your camera.

"You can all take your usual places," you direct. "I want this to feel as natural as possible for you."

You can see them relax just the slightest bit at that, and they make their way to their usual spots in the living room. Ben settles into the corner of the couch, near the stairs that lead into the conversation pit. Reed and Sue make themselves comfortable next to him, though they don't lean into each other like you expected them to. You've heard the rumors about them—how they're secretly together, have been for years now, and perhaps they even have a secret child. You don't really believe that last one, but you wouldn't be surprised if they were actually dating. You recall seeing blurry photos of them supposedly kissing in random tabloids at the news stands, not that you pay any mind to those kinds of things. You try not to at least. Johnny plops himself down on one of the many circular end tables that are placed around the couch. You push the thoughts of Reed and Sue's relationship status out of your brain and place your focus back on the task at hand.

"Johnny really?" Reed chastises. "Those aren't made to be sat on. I've told you already."

"I'm sitting on it right now, aren't I? Johnny ribs back. He rocks the table back and forth a little to prove his point, making Reed wince. "It's fine."

Ben and Sue roll their eyes and shake their heads affectionately. You watch with amusement as Reed and Johnny continue to bicker with each other like there isn't just some stranger in their home watching them. You snap a few pictures of the group in the moment. You don't think they'll be used, but it's a nice one of those family moments that Chloe mentions in her article. Despite the clear annoyance that they feel for each other, they all have smiles on their faces.

Ben grabs a magazine that's been left on the arm of the couch and thumbs through it while he waits for the argument to end. Sue catches your eye and raises a conspiratorial brow at you as if to say, "See what I have to deal with?" You smile back shyly before hiding behind your camera again.

"We have this entire couch, and you choose my end tables," Reed says, his arms gesturing widely around the room.

"I feel so far away from you guys when we all sit on the couch," Johnny complains in an almost whiny voice. "It's too damn big. There's only four of us."

One of the photos you take includes Ben smirking behind his magazine as he listens to Reed and Johnny continue to egg each other on. Sue wears her own smile except it's not directed at any of the boys. It's directed at you. A shiver runs down your spine as your eyes meet again. You look away first.

"Fine," Reed says finally, his tone remains playful if a little vexed. "But if it breaks, you're replacing it."

With the end table saga settled for now, Ben places the magazine back down on the sofa arm while he, Johnny, and Reed direct their attention back to you. Sue was already looking at you, you notice. You chew on your lip and ignore the somersault that your stomach does. She's just making sure the strange girl in her living room doesn't steal anything, you think. You adjust your position in front of them and prepare to take the portraits that you were sent here to do.

"Hang on a sec," Johnny says, putting his hand up. He turns towards the kitchen and shouts, "Herbie! Get in here! We're doing pictures now!"

Herbie looks up from his place at the kitchen counter, where he appears to be mixing something in a large bowl. He zooms over to the living room, his apron still wrapped around his little body. Sue reaches over and her skillful hands untie the apron for him before tossing it to the side. Herbie then looks to you and tilts his head, awaiting instruction. The team watch with amusement as you clearly attempt to adjust to the concept of talking to an anthropomorphic robot.

"Herbie," you say, doing your best to sound as casual as possible. "Let's put you next to Johnny."

Herbie rolls over to Johnny, who gives him a little scratch on his head. The knobs on Herbie's display slide into a smile.

The shoot runs smoothly after that—they're seasoned pros when it comes to being in front of a camera. You shouldn't be surprised though, photoshoots come with the territory of saving the city from certain death every few weeks. The chemistry between them is also palpable, which certainly makes your job easier. You don't have to worry about capturing something that isn't there for the sake of appearances. They really are one big, happy family, Herbie included. You find yourself relaxing in their presence as the shoot wears on—there's a comfortable closeness to them that you find incredibly disarming. They're easy on the eyes too, which never hurts. They have a certain other-worldly, magnetic quality surrounding them that makes you wonder if it was something they acquired on that first space mission that gave them their powers. Looking at Sue though, you know that her beauty is just something she was born with.

You are pleased with the amount of frames you're able to shoot of them as a group—you manage four rolls, which should be more than enough. The only real struggle you encountered was trying to keep your camera off of Sue, who you spent far too much time focusing on. You're going to have to develop these film rolls yourself unless you want to reveal your not-so-little crush to some random Time intern in the photo department.

"Alright," you say, standing up. "We can do your individual portraits now in any room of your choice really, and then I'll be out of your hair."

You feel yourself stand up a little straighter than you did when you first arrived at the penthouse. You feel much more confident around them. Johnny has eased up on the flirting now that he realizes that it's not going to be reciprocated, and Reed and Ben are happy to make casual conversation with you. They all seem genuinely interested in you as a person, which is a nice change from other clients who usually just treat you like nothing more than a shadow who happens to have a camera. You do your best to keep your interactions with Sue limited because every time you talk to her, your voice shakes and you blush like a tomato. You'll only be here a little while longer and then you can duck out safely, hopefully with your dignity still in tact.

"I'll go first," Johnny raises his hand, already standing and making his way out of the room, gesturing for you to follow him. "What if I leaned against the window moodily? You think that would look cool?"

You do your best not to burst out laughing as you follow Johnny through the apartment, and into what you assume is his room. There, you're able to convince him to just pose at his record player. You wouldn't say it to his face, though you suspect he already knows, but he is very photogenic. As a result, his portraits are over with quickly. To humor him, you snap a few shots of him staring out of the window before you leave his room. You wander down the hall and find Reed in his study, which is the perfect location for his individual portrait. You take your pictures as he tells you about his latest research. Even though you barely understand the words he's saying, it sounds like an interesting endeavor. He kindly suggests supplemental literature for you to take a look at when you admit your lack of knowledge in the subject.

You head to the kitchen next, remembering Ben telling you he would be there for the rest of the day. When you walk into the kitchen, you see him standing next to Herbie, sprinkling spices into a pot on the stove. Out of all of the team members, he's probably the easiest to talk to. You're eager to see how his portraits come out—he seems the most at home in the kitchen, and you hope that your pictures capture that comfort.

You make your way to the conversation pit, where Sue is sitting. She's looking through the same magazine that Ben was reading, but judging by the fact that she's been on the same page for twenty minutes you don't think she's actually reading it. She looks up when you approach, and stands.

"Would it be okay if we did mine in my study?" she asks.

"Sure," you reply, gripping your camera tightly. "Lead the way."

Her study is similar to Reed's with heavy bookshelves that line the walls and papers spread all over the desk. Her notes appear to be color coded though, and much more organized than anything Reed had out. You think of your own desk at your apartment and how Sue would probably balk at the state of it—not only are there just old papers left crumpled up on top of new ones, there's probably the odd candy wrapper lying around as well. Her bookshelves are decorated with picture frames of her and Johnny from when they were little and souvenirs from the countries that she's traveled to. Sue's study is west-facing, and you're sure that this room looks even more beautiful drenched in the sunset.

"I hope my brother didn't say anything too self incriminating when you were together," Sue says, trying to catch your eye for umpteenth time that day. You don't let let her.

"Don't worry," you assure her from behind your camera, "compared to the guys I've met in college, he's a perfect gentleman."

"My brother a perfect gentleman," she laughs deeply. The sound tugs at the center of your chest. "That's a good one."

Sue's gaze is no less intense when you look at her through the safety of your camera's view finder. You know they want these photos in color, it's all the rage these days, but you're sure that even black and white print couldn't hold off the intensity of the blue in her eyes. She picks out a book from her bookshelf and pages through it as you move around her. The steep slope of her nose leads into the sharp angle of her lips. You long to reach out and run your hand along her sharp jaw line and high cheekbones. In a moment of clarity, you thank heaven above that she's not a mind reader and can only turn invisible, or else you'd be in trouble. Her hair falls into her face and you almost sweep it out of the way, but pull back before she can notice.

Despite her sharp, angular features, she looks all soft and inviting with her wool sweater and alluring smile. This isn't something she typically displays to the public, but here in the comfort of her home—and in your presence, you dare to think— she allows herself to be stripped down. She places the book back on the shelf and faces you. You can feel her studying you now.

"Have I done something to offend you?" she asks. The question would be serious if it wasn't for the amusement lacing her voice.

"Why would you say that?" you ask as swap out lenses.

"You don't meet my eyes, your movements are stilted, I can barely get you to crack a smile, you practically ran out of the room with Johnny of all people earlier," she says, rattling off her observations in an almost scientific tone. You prove her point as you avoid her eyes again.

"Isn't there a video of you offering Johnny to all the single women out there?" you deflect.

"The single women who are interested," she amends. "You're not interested."

"Who says I'm not," you challenge.

Your shutter clicks.

"Are you?" she asks.

Your shutter clicks again.

You hesitate, but eventually admit, "No."

Click.

"Then what is it?" she presses.

Click.

"It's nothing," you say. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

Click.

"Really?" Suddenly Sue is standing in front of you as her hand rests gently on your camera, urging you to lower it.

You follow her lead and are left looking into her soft neck, your height difference more noticeable now that you're standing right next to each other. She takes the hand that was on your camera and moves it to cup your jaw, guiding your eyes up to meet hers finally. You look into an icy blue sea that's inches away from you. Her eyes flit around your face, landing on your lips. You pull away before anything further can happen. You suck in a deep breath and clear your throat as you back away awkwardly. She remains in her place, unabashed.

"I think I've got everything I need," you say at once, your voice shaking against your will. Any confidence that you found earlier is gone now.

"Thank you for coming," she says, still looking at you intently. "I'm excited to see how the pictures come out."

"Yeah, me too." You pause in front of her but move away before she can register anything. You pack your camera away in your bag, and drop your finished rolls of film safely in a little pocket inside the bag.

"Have you been doing this long?" Sue asks when you move away from her.

"What, the photography?" you ask and she nods. "I've been taking pictures since I was a kid, but I got serious about it in college."

"Was that your major?" She tracks your movements, not allowing you a second of reprieve from her sight.

"I actually majored in anthropology," you say and she raises an intrigued brow, her lip quirks up too. You swear you already mentioned your major today, when you were talking to them as a group. "I'm taking a gap year before I go to grad school, though."

"Anthropology," she says, testing the word in her mouth. You wish she'd do the same with your tongue. "That's the study of human cultures, right? Observing them, analyzing them?"

"Yeah," you say, unsure of where the conversation is headed.

"What have you observed about me?" she asks, a playful smile spreading across her face.

Oh.

She's knows you've been watching her just as much as she's been watching you. She stares at you, waiting for you to take the bait. You bite at your lip.

"You and Reed have very parental roles on the team," you say, throwing caution to the wind. "But, you aren't together. Not like everyone thinks you are."

"How do you know we're not together?" she asks, not denying anything. You heart skips a beat.

"You both left too much space between each other on the couch," you explain. "Couples usually lean into each other."

"Interesting," she says after a moment.

"I could be wrong though," you say quickly. Perhaps your wishful thinking has clouded your judgment. "There's only so much I can see from just one afternoon."

"Maybe you should come back again then," she says, taking her chance to move closer to you again. "To be sure."

You're back in a similar position to the one you were in just a few moments ago, except this time she's closer. Her body presses against yours just the slightest—testing the waters, giving you time to move away. When you don't, her hand finds its place on your jaw again, keeping you close. She pauses, waiting for you to close the gap.

"I'm technically working right now," you stall.

"I don't see a supervisor around," she whispers back.

The blue in her eyes slowly disappears the longer you stand there, breathing the same air. You hesitate before craning your neck up and molding your mouth to hers.

Her lips are as soft as you imagined they'd be and her mouth is warm as it moves against your own. You bring your hands up to her side, running them along her waist and up her back. The hand on your jaw sneaks behind your neck, holding you steady, while her other tangles in your hair and tugs gently. You gasp into her mouth and swallow her breath eagerly.

She runs her tongue along your bottom lip and you open your mouth for her, allowing her to take the lead. As her tongue dances smoothly against yours, your hands wander lazily along the length of her back. The sweater that was so neatly tucked into her skirt is freed from its confines when your grip on her tightens. Her hand leaves your jaw and she wraps a strong arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

The kiss becomes more frenzied as you slot your legs between hers. You feel yourself going light headed from the lack of air, but who needs such a thing when you're with Sue Storm?

A heavy knock on the door forces you apart, as she turns her attention to the person on the other side. Her body remains pressed against yours though, with a hand still tangled in your hair.

"Sue?" It's Ben. He sounds cautious as he speaks, "Dinner'll be ready soon." He trails off, sounding unsure of what to else to say.

You stand there, your face crumpling in embarrassment as you remember exactly where you are at this moment. You just made out with Sue Storm for God knows how long in the Baxter Building, technically on company time. You cover your face with your hands.

"We'll be right out," she calls through the door, her voice deeper than it was before. She runs a comforting hand up and down your back.

"Okay," Ben says, already walking away. "No rush. Take your time. Please."

"Oh my God," you groan into your hands. You feel Sue step back, leaving you with just enough space to run if you wanted to. You don't.

"Don't worry," she says, pulling your hands away form your face. She's smiling widely, her lips swollen and pink. "No one heard anything. Ben just doesn't like to see his food go to waste."

"Do you do this often?" you ask incredulously, she's suspiciously calm right now.

She pushes some hair behind your ear and teases,"Only with pretty girls." You level her with a serious look that she matches. "No, I don't. I actually don't have much time to myself these days. Even if I did, I wouldn't exactly spend it doing this kind of thing with multiple different people."

Your hands dangle uselessly at your sides as you process the meaning of her words. You hesitate to believe them—not because she's untrustworthy, but more because you can't imagine her wanting someone like you. For one, she very probably could have Reed if she wanted him and vice versa. Pretty people like to date other pretty people, and you're not exactly insecure but you know you don't look like her.

And two, she could have quite literally anyone she wants—the whole world is in love with her. People spend more time talking about her good looks than they do the multitude of good deeds that she's performed, both with the team and independently. It's a little maddening come to think of it. You think her initiatives with the Future Foundation are much more newsworthy than whatever product she uses in her hair. Though you have to admit that it is a very good product, whatever it is, because she has not a single hair out of place after your recent activities.

"I can tell you're freaking out already," she states calmly. She smooths your hair down and tucks in her skirt. "You're more than welcome to stay for dinner, but you don't have to if you don't want to. I'm unsure of what your plans are for the rest of the evening."

"I have a big dinner party with my friends," you reject as you adjust your camera bag on your shoulder. The bubble you two were in has popped now."We're celebrating my roommate's article. The one I'm here for actually."

"Well, tell her I send my congratulations," Sue says sweetly, guiding you out of the study with a hand on your lower back.

You walk through the small hallway, doing your best not to peer nosily into the open rooms on the way. You exit back into the main area of the penthouse and are met with the boys all sitting around the dinner table. Herbie whirs around the kitchen, cleaning up here and there. Ben rises from his seat.

"Thank you again for having me," you smile. "It was lovely to meet all of you."

"What? Sue couldn't convince you to—"

"We look forward to seeing your photographs in the article," Reed cuts Johnny off.

"It was nice to meet you," Ben says, handing you a small paper bag.

"Thank you," you reply, taking the bag. You take a peak inside and smile at the assortment of cookies you see. You continue on your path to the elevators, where Sue helps you with your coat. From the dinner table, Ben and Reed discreetly watch you both, pretending to rest their heads on their hands. Johnny openly stares, a smirk planted firmly on his face.

"I meant it when I said I said you can come back," Sue says, dusting invisible dust off of your shoulder. She stares at you shyly now, "I'd love to see you again. Outside of these circumstances."

"Okay," you agree lamely.

You brain is screaming at you for daring to utter such a response when she hands you something small. You're expecting to see a business card, but are pleasantly surprised to see that it's a little slip of paper with what looks like a personal number neatly scratched onto it. It looks like it was just ripped from a random notebook in her office.

"It's my personal number," she says confirming your suspicions.

The elevator dings, she must've pressed the button while you gawking at her phone number. You remain planted in your spot, still not completely believing your eyes. She nudges you in and confidently smiles, "Call me."

Behind her, the boys say their final goodbyes to you. Even Herbie waves and whirs at you. Sue gives you a soft smile, which you return as the doors close. You clutch her number in your hand, unwilling to let it go out of fear that it might slip away from you otherwise.

This might be your most successful gig yet, you think to yourself as the elevator delivers you back to the lobby.

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leosmaxromanoff · 6 days ago

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man fuck it

dreams are shifts

daydreams are shifts

no dreams are shifts

thinking about how a song reminds you of ur dr is shifting

listening to tiktok edit audios imagining your badass self is shifting

reading “scenarios to script” and thinking of it happening is you currently being in ur dr

pinning to a pin board is you being in ur dr

scripting is shifting

reading about shifting is shifting

you reading this post is you having shifted

me writing this post is me having shifted

something unexpected happening today is a shift

nothing happening today is a shift

waking up is a shift

taking a quick nap is a shift

rain instead of sunshine is a shift

sunshine instead of rain is a shift

eating is you having shifted

taking a shower is you having shifted

taking a shit is you having shifted

being cold is you having shifted

being hot is you having shifted

being as snug as a bug in a rug means you’ve shifted

any action or thought you take means it’s already done

you’ve done it and the process is over

observe how natural and easy it is to just shift

2K notes · View notes

leosmaxromanoff · 7 days ago

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fuck me through my panties and then bully me afterwards because of the mess I made <33

4K notes · View notes

leosmaxromanoff · 8 days ago

Text

the outside world has failed you

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Word count: 6,253

Warnings: 18+ content, mention of cockroaches and bedbugs, mention of contract-killing, Natasha x Reader, I criticize the church a lot, blasphemy, caning as a punishment, manipulation, masochism, oral sex, edging, dacryphilia, strap-on usage, hair-pulling, slamming, degrading, angst, fluff.

A/N: Hi! I'm sorry for disappearing, but in so few months, so much has happened. It has taken a toll on me, and I was in no mood for anything, in many ways. I am recovering, though! I love it here and I'm glad I was able to write a little something hehe. Watching AHS Asylum for the fourth time does things to you. 😮‍💨

Sister Wanda Maximoff didn't make your plan to take advantage of the church as easy as you thought it would be.

You were not going to endure another god-awful day in that abyss you called life. You simply could not. Nothing particularly happened, you simply collapsed.

Your job in this economy did not allow you to support rent, food, services, all that went with being independent. So many exhausting hours for so little pay. Just so when you finally returned home, the first thing you saw were multiple eviction notices on your door, reminding you that you were on the verge of being homeless.

So, when you opened your door with push, the inside was not very welcoming either, as the holes in your furniture and under your broken sink were the perfect place for cockroaches to breed in droves, causing you to find a few over here and there. At least they lived rent free, you thought.

You ate microwavable or precooked food, the cheapest you could find, and proceeded to go to sleep, hoping the bedbugs wouldn't cause you any more health problems than you already had from the quality of sleep and food you provided your body with.

And then, you slept four hours, you got up to work, you came back home, you repeated.

Well, the sole exception was your upstairs neighbor, Natasha Romanoff. A Russian immigrant on the run from the authorities for her involvement as an accomplice to Clint Barton, a notorious contract killer. Barton, lacking the courage to face imprisonment with dignity, betrayed his loyal partner, declaring, "If I go down, you go down with me".

Now a fugitive, Natasha cut and dyed her hair blonde and resorted to phone scams to survive. “Fucking cyber education”, you could hear her yell from downstairs, usually followed by the sound of her cell phone hitting the ground (your ceiling). You deduced it was because fewer and fewer people were falling for the bullshit of a $500,000 prize.

The sex with her was good, too good to be true. You weren't happy about her misfortune, but you were grateful to whoever was smart enough not to fall for that classic scam, because you knew that after that, she would get to take out her frustration on you as soon as you got home from work. That was the only means by which you could secrete a little dopamine, a little... happiness.

“I hate this life,” you once commented, clinging to her as she rode out the ground-breaking orgasm she gave you.

“Hmmm, bullshit,” she growled. ”I can't go out and buy fucking cigarretes without the fear of some asshole recognizing me from the wanted signs and ratting me out,” you could feel her back muscles tensing again. “I can't engage in anything too scandalous, legal or illegal, because any false move will take me back to Russia. And don't make me detail what prison is like in Russia,” she added, quickening her movements and panting slightly. Your eyes rolled, and against your will, the need began to simmer inside you once again. “Don't come and tell me your life is difficult. Figure it out! God... damn it!”

“What do you propose I do?” You asked her, once the overstimulation of two orgasms in a row had subsided enough to allow you to formulate something more than whimpers and moans.

“Go to the nuns congregation,” she shrugged, as she buttoned her pants. They were somewhat tight, which made visible the bulge formed by the strap-on she used on you.

“Fuck you!” You exclaimed.

“I'm serious. They love to feel like they're saving souls,” she justified. “Tell them you want to let God into your life, and just like that you get three meals a day and a warm bed. You deserve a chance in life."

Okay, maybe you could have gone on to apply for other jobs and in one of them you might've been lucky to get hired, but your day-to-day life had mentally drained you so much that you didn't think you were capable of making one more effort to survive.

It wasn't fair. The people working in the church enjoyed every comfort simply by feeding people's beliefs in something greater. They stood before crowds reading teachings they often didn't apply to their own lives, but that didn't matter. All they needed to do was make people feel good about themselves for sacrificing one hour of their Sunday to listen. People gave money to the church for this. They granted the church privileges for this, like tax exemption. Meanwhile, you did pay your taxes.

Natasha was right. If a simple practice of a religion was going to give you all that, more than your skills or abilities would, you might as well take it. After all, it was divine justice to privilege yourself from the church that privileged itself from the people.

Everything went smoothly, for you were a master in words and conviction. If only you had the opportunity to go to college, you would be using those skills to build a career of your liking, maybe laws or literature. But there you were, reorienting the reason for the misfortunes in your life to a motive to strengthen your faith. You even talked about a dream where you received a message where God commanded you to serve Him, and you dropped a couple of tears to make it believable. They loved it!

From then on, your days were consumed by correspondence lessons, spiritual readings that stirred nothing within you, and the hollow act of pretending to pray mentally. It was excruciatingly monotonous, devoting yourself to something that doesn’t align with the core of who you were. However, the only solace came from the feeling of a full stomach, the embrace of a bed where you could finally surrender to real rest, and the relief of having left behind the life that once tormented you.

If that weren’t enough, Natasha remained present in your life. There was no love, perhaps not even affection, but there was familiarity. You were each other's person to look forward to after an exhausting, unsuccesful day.

Therefore, every night, she would appear at your window, her wide smile showing beneath the shadow of her hood.

She would fuck you hard, keeping in mind the exciting fact that, despite covering your mouth with her firm hand, a moan could probably be heard if she dared to let go or if you didn't control yourself.

The danger of someone discovering an Aspirant being thrusted deep by another woman whose reward for finding her exceeded a million dollars gave you the most delicious orgasms you had ever had in your life.

All your needs were taken care of, and all you had to do was pretend that this was your calling.

Until Sister Wanda Maximoff noticed your lack of interest. The other Aspirants glowed with marvel, their eyes burning with the will to learn during every lesson. They bombarded her with so many questions that each class stretched at least an extra half hour. But overall, they worshiped her as the living embodiment of what they could only dream to become.

But you remained sitting quietly, your gaze steady but lacking the usual awe radiating from your classmates. It wasn't shyness, for Sister Wanda had taught many shy Aspirants before, it was as if you existed on a separate plane of existence, observing from a distance instead of immersing yourself.

So she deliberately picked on you, persistently directing her questions at you regardless of your ‘fellow’ Aspirants' raised, insisting hands.

What exasperated her the most was your response to her gentle reprimands when you answered incorrectly; your attitude matched, perhaps even surpassed, the apathy you showed toward her lessons. The sole thing you were eager about was to demonstrate how little she mattered to you.

How wrong she was to believe private lessons would change anything. She assumed whatever shit show you were trying to pull would crumble when it was just the two of you, face to face. She thought you showed defiance only because you were among other Aspirants, who would devastate at the sight of their sweet, dear Sister being —justifiably— hard on someone. But no, you were insolent and that was all there was to it.

Unfortunately for you, Sister Wanda didn't have her group of adoring students around to see her now, leaving her free to do whatever she pleased with you.

"Damn you!" She slammed her Bible shut, after she made one last attempt to kindly ask you to make an effort to pay attention. You barely had time to register her words before she was standing—no, looming in front of you. "Listen," she hissed, her breath sharp against your face. The smell of cigarretes was evident. "I don't care why you're here. I only care that you are here. And as long as you are here, you're going to listen to my lesson. You're going to care. And one way or another, you're going to love me for it.”

That was the heart of it, wasn't it? You hadn't knelt, hadn't lapped at her heels like the others, and that was enough to wound her. Enough to make her angry. You could see it in her eyes, controlled fury, a slow-burning arrogance that refused to be challenged.

"Bend over," she ordered, signalling towards her desk with her emerald-green eyes.

You met her eyes, and in that moment, you knew she saw your rage, your disgust, your perplexity barely restrained beneath your clenched jaw.

"Excuse me?" Your voice was trembling of pure impotence, as the room itself seemed to contract around you.

"Bend over," she repeated. “Or… don't. You can always go back to that job—”

And before she could even complete her sentence, you were bent over her desk.

"Normally, I’d let you choose," she mused, her voice thick with condescension. "But you’ve been so bad, you don’t even deserve that.”

The closet doors creaked open behind you. Wooden. Heavy. Old.

The sound pierced the silence, a whistle of something cutting through the air, followed by a firm whip exploding across your flesh.

You sucked in a sharp breath.

It stuck in your throat, strangled by disbelief, both from the action and the inimaginable pain.

Your body jerked forward against the desk, as a high-pitched cry escaped your lips before you could stop it.

The wooden cane struck again, and again, and again.

Sister Wanda was known for being methodical, and her punishments weren't the exception, for she let each strike sink in before delivering the next.

Your fingers clawed at the barnished wood of her desk, intending to stay still, to deny her the satisfaction of seeing you squirm and suffer.

But it was impossible. The burning sensation radiating from your ass across your whole body, had you sobbing openly, with your pride as bruised as your skin.

"Please," you whimpered, choked with pathetic attempts to inhale some air. "I‐I'm sorry, please...”

She hummed with indifference. The same indifference you once gave her during her lessons. Divine justice.

Her cane tapped thoughtfully against your tender flesh, making you flinch. You couldn't take another single one.

"What did Christ say to Peter after the resurrection?” Just another cynical test. You should've seen it coming.

The answer was somewhere within the depths of your distressed mind. But the sting of open skin, made your thoughts slow.

"Well?" she pressed, and the cane lifted from your ass.

"Simon son of John, do you love me?”

Through your sobs, you heard the creak of the cabinet opening again, the soft sound of the cane being returned to its place. Your flesh throbbed in time with your heartbeat, and you knew you wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for days.

With gentle hands that moments ago had wielded the cane, she carefully smoothed down your tunic, her touch now impossibly tender.

"There now, sweet girl," she murmured, her voice honey-like and soothing. Her fingers traced the tear tracks on your cheeks, wiping away the remnants of the evidence of your sorrow. "You took your punishment so well.”

Every alert in your rational mind that would dcream at you to stay away was turned off. You knew it when you found yourself melting into her touch, craving the comfort she offered. And she looked down at you with adoration when she found nothing but submission in your eyes, as she cradled your face between her palms.

"Such a good girl for me now, isn't that right?" he whispered, and the praise… the praise had your earlier fear dissolving under her careful ministrations. "This is all I wanted from you, darling, just to see you truly present, truly here with me."

She drew you closer, letting you rest your forehead against her shoulder as her fingers threaded through your hair. The scent of chapel incense and that hint of cigarettes enveloped you, and you found yourself breathing it in deeply, letting it ground you.

“This is what happens when you let yourself be guided, when you submit to proper instruction," her lips brushed your earshell as she spoke. "Will you be good for me from now on?"

You nodded against her shoulder, unable and unwilling to resist the tempting implication she made. If you behaved, you would have more of these precious moments.

And this alone gave you more purpose than anything else since you arrived to the monastery.

You became aware of it in the same way a candle becomes aware of fire, at first, just a taste of heat, then a flame that tangles in the wax until it consumes it all.

You became an active participant in her lessons, a constant presence who made sure to be seen, to be noticed. You knew Sister Wanda liked your enthusiasm, but it wasn't just her approval you sought. You wanted her recognition.

And so, when you weren't taking her lessons, you were reading, studying, making sure your application made you stand out among the other Aspirants. All so that you would be her favorite girl.

She usually saw you reading under one of the garden's trees. You had chosen the one that was the closest to the hall, she noticed. She couldn't miss it if she was walking out of her office. It was adorable.

If she had time, she would stop by your side, looking at the book in your hands. She would take the tome gently, making sure that her slender fingers brushed yours, even if for a second, and her arm subsequently found its around you in an almost unconscious, protective manner.

"Do you have any questions?" She would inquire. And even though you didn't —unsurprisingly so—, you pretended to need clarification, any excuse to let her closeness linger a few seconds longer, not ready to be apart from her yet.

It had taken hold of you. The need of her touch.

Before, reading and prayer were mere obligations, mechanical routines that you did just because you had to. Now, they had become rituals charged with intention, directed towards something greater; her.

If you prayed fervently, if you participated enthusiastically, if you were everything she expected of you, rest assured she would seek you out every time, just to remind you that you did not go unnoticed by her.

"It was so good," she purred, her hand sliding over your lower back.

And, of course, she noticed your every gesture. Every held breath, every tiny tilt of your body in her direction.

She had conditioned other students to obey her in the same way, but they did not respond to her touch as you did that day after she bent you over the desk. Not only did you not flinch, you melted.

They obeyed for fear of being punished again. But, it seemed you had even forgotten all about it.

You didn't look at her with terror. You looked at her with longing.

Sure, it was normal to look for approval. That's all it was. A conditioned reflex, a survival instinct. To make sure you didn't get any more punishment.

But you... you weren't just looking for her approval.

You were looking for her.

And she didn't know which was worse, the reverse effect it had inadvertently caused in you, or the one it was causing in her.

She should have stopped when she had the chance, when she noticed that her threatening attempts to impose fear, meaning by grabbing your face, squeezing your shoulder or resting her hand on your back, for you were, in reality, caresses. Caresses that you evidently lacked throughout your life.

"One way or another, you're going to love me for it," she had established, but the another way was not the one she usually applied, the one she used to know so well.

The admiration of others fed her ego, and gave her that sense of power and control to which she had long ago become addicted. But you had made that seem insignificant compared to what you provided her.

She was fully aware that you didn't want to be like her. Hell, she knew exactly why you joined the congregation.

It was something far more significant than the admiration she had initially tried to kindle within you.

It was submission.

And therefore every slightest caress became a bottomless pit for her, for both of you. And both, without fear, fell.

It was everything you were looking for.

So much so that, when Natasha touched your window, you felt nothing. And you had reached the point of believing that there was no point in continuing to do something that no longer had any meaning for you.

So, as she was about to climb in, you stopped her.

"I'm reading," you said without looking up from the book in your hands, signaling to her that you weren't going to move from there.

Natasha paused for a second, just long enough for doubt to seep into her expression before pulling herself together.

"I can see that. Good for you.”

And still, she walked in. She did so as confidently as she always did, expecting no more permission than she believed belonged to her.

"I can't do this anymore," you stated, firm this time.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, somewhere between mockery and skepticism. She swept her gaze over you, that quick, almost bored assessment. Then, she chuckled.

"What?" She asked in mock disbelief. "Are you going to tell me that you received a calling from the Lord to give yourself to him? Is this what it is? Are you going to practice chastity?”

You denied quickly.

"No, don't be ridiculous.”

It wasn't faith, not in the way she implied. It was devotion, but to someone who was there, who did respond. There was something greater than mindless pleasure, something more real than the filling of your needy hole. You had found someone to exist for, someone who saw beyond the fleeting instant and looked at you, not just what she could take from you.

She tilted her head, with the same expression of one who already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it anyway.

"You met someone else," she asserted.

"No..." it was an instinctive reflex that, upon reaching your tongue, lost its form, dissolving into something uncertain. "Maybe. I don't know."

Had you, really? Wanda hadn't touched you in that way, the way Natasha did, urgently, hungrily. And yet what she did to you had been more than anything you'd ever felt. Her fingers glided over your skin with a lightness that didn't demand, that didn't take. There was something in the way she looked at you, not with possession, but with recognition. As if you were someone, not something.

You didn't know if it was equal, but it was better. Much better.

There was a second of silence. Then Natasha let out a dry laugh.

"Well, I'd be damned," she muttered with a half-smile, not taking her eyes off you. "Just... think about her if you want. I had a long day.”

And you agreed. It was the only way to know if this bordered on a level of attraction that was new to you.

When Natasha fucked you, you closed your eyes, and you imagined those pink lips, those big emerald green eyes, that unseen body hiding under that habit.

No. Not like this.

If you were doing this with Wanda, she'd be stroking your hair. She'd kiss your cheeks. She'd make sure you felt how much she appreciated having your presence beneath her, pleasing her. Overall, she'd make sure you were enjoying yourself too.

Because you were somebody.

You opened your eyes, and you pulled Natasha's hand away from your mouth, with a movement that was not abrupt, but definite.

"Caress me," you commanded.

Natasha frowned.

"You're insane," she panted between thrusts. You didn't blame her for saying it. Maybe you were.

"Do it," you insisted, with the certainty of one who has made a decision with no turning back. "Or this will be the last time.”

She rolled her eyes impatiently. But she agreed. Without love, without affection, with a mechanical manner that barely mimicked what you had asked.

"No, this isn't working," you growled, nudging her gently. You didn't want to make her feel like this was her fault, it really wasn't. You simply began to crave for something she was no longer capable of giving you.

"I agree, let me do my thing," she replied, slamming deeper inside you to reassert her dominance. You knew she knew what you were referring to, the fact that her flings during the night were no longer working for you. But she wasn't going to admit it, because she wanted to keep using you, seeing you.

And no, you had a say in this.

"Natasha, I don't want you anymore!" You exclaimed, perhaps louder than you should have in the middle of the night when everyone was supposed to be asleep.

She pulled back, just enough to glance in your direction, as if to silently confirm the truth of your words. Within the depths of your eyes, she found the answer. Therefore she stepped back with deliberate nonchalance and adjusted her pants, maintaining her composure in the shifting tide of the moment.

You thought she was going to refute, as it seemed very important to her to leave her house, to risk being found just to 'take out her frustrations on you'. She could have looked for anyone, but she wanted you. And perhaps the reason would remain a mystery.

"Call me when that cheesiness wears off," she stated matter-of-factly, and retreated from your room through the window.

And with that, you thought you were off the hook.

You thought.

You were under your tree, your now shelter, when you saw Wanda come out of her office. Her footsteps echoed on the floor, quick and heavy, so different from her usual gait. She was furious, you knew.

You didn't alert yourself, you thought it wasn't about you, that if you were doing what she expected from you, without fail, why would she be angry?

But then, instead of taking the path to the hallway, as she always did, she walkes you. Her eyes showed no gentleness. There was no tenderness in her face. But what had happened? Everything seemed to be in order. Why... this?

In one sudden movement, she bent down and, with a violence that made you lose your breath, she lifted you up suddenly, pulling your hair towards her, forcing you to stumble, to stagger, all the way to her office. She didn't care about your whines, and, your desperate pleas to explain what was happening.

And once inside, the door closed with a clang that chilled your blood, and proceeded to bend you over the desk by slamming the side of your face against it. There were no orders. There were no requests. There was no room for choice.

No explanation, not a single word spoken, like you didn't deserve any of that. It couldn't be real. Not again. Not like this. She was treating you... badly. And you didn't know why, or what you had done wrong.

"I took you for so many things," she began, and the sound of the closet doors where she kept her canes chilled your skin just like the last time. "Insolent, disdainful, opportunist... and I thought I'd fixed you."

You choked, your throat closed up with unshed tears. You didn't understand. You couldn't understand.

The prospect of getting caned didn't even occupy your mind at that moment. It was the torture of knowing that you let her down, that everything you had done, all your effort, had been in vain, that consumed you to the core.

"Y-you did!" you cried, trying to cling to some hope, some justification, looking for some way to explain what you didn’t even know you did. "I've done everything you asked, and more! I don't understand!"

The way she dismissed your words with a curt hum, and proceeded to lift your tunic, was a silent communication that everything you did for her wasn't enough to forgive nor forget what she was about to punish you for.

"Yes," she said, caressing your bare cheeks, which still held the memories of your first punishment. "Except for the fact that you're a filthy slut, fucking a criminal every night in your room."

Your skin bristled at her accusation. She felt it under her fingertips, and that made her more relentless.There was no point in applying those impecable lying techniques that had brought you to this point, if ultimately, your body was at her mercy, and it did not lie.

"Who told you?" you could barely articulate. How could anyone ever dare to touch something so sacred to you?

"No one!" She exclaimed.

It had been one of your fellow Aspirants. She was heading to the bathroom that night, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, when she heard the hushed moans and accelerated breaths through your door.

And when she heard your apparent fling was about to slip out of your window, she followed.

She didn’t go far, just enough to reach Natasha out, grip her shoulder, and turn her around to reveal her identity. That cost her a broken nose. However, it was worth it. So worth it.

Because she hated you, everyone hated you. Why were you Wanda's favorite? You hated her lessons, you were rude to her, and when you started doing what everyone did, you got praised for it?

She was supposed to belong to all of them! Equally. So if she had to sabotage your relationship to take back what was theirs, then so be it.

First thing in the morning, she told Wanda everything.

"I don't understand you, (Y/N)!" She continued, whipping you three times in a row, the contact coursing through your entire body. You could have sworn you felt an electric current run from your head to your feet. And worse than the first time. Much worse. Oh, compared to what you felt now, those moments seemed like paradise. "Here, you have it all!"

Wanda's jealousy, the shadows of her anger, made her apply way more force than she intended to. And from your end, the realization that you had failed the one person who had ever made you feel you were worth anything, who had made you believe you weren't invisible, made you the perfect recipient for her fury.

You were vulnerable, not resistant, for you defeatedly accepted this as just a little bit of the hell you deserved for having disappointed Wanda. Your Wanda.

"You got everything you wanted," she continued. "Everything you wanted in exchange for being my good girl. And isn't that enough? You had to look outside for what you could have here, with me?"

Before you could apologize, or beg for mercy, you felt the touch of her face against the fabric of your panties, where she inhaled deeply.

"I should have known my baby girl wanted to be fucked, hm?" She commented, more softly than before. The scent of your involuntary arousal soothed her unlike any other. "My bad.”

“I… I'm so… I'm so stupid,” you whimpered, your words laced with embarrasment. Your tears had already formed a small, glistening puddle on the surface of her desk, reflecting the dim candlelight.

"Shhh, nothing to be ashamed of," she whispered in your ear. Her body pressed against your back with almost reverent care, as though she wanted to hold you rather than crush you. After all, you were someone fragile, someone precious that deserved protection from the claws of the outside world. "Oh, my darling," she cooed, with a gentleness so sincere that it made you forget, if only for an instant, the trust that had been broken. "No more tears," she commanded softly.

She stuck out her tongue and slid it tenderly over your cheek, gathering the salty trace of your regret.

She extended her tongue, moving it with deliberate tenderness across your tear-stained cheek, collecting each salty droplet that marked your sorrow.

The warm, wet sensation of her tongue against your skin, the taste of your regret, provoked her to elicit a deep, satisfied moan that resonated through her whole body and into yours.

It shouldn't have felt like salvation, but it did. And naturally, you yearned for more, as you did with form of contact that she could offer you.

And, with the same quiet desperation of a sinner seeking absolution, you turned your head, parted your lips, and let the tip of your tongue meet hers. She stilled for a moment, just a moment, before answering you kindly. A gentle meeting of tongues, tentative at first, but then so natural and carefree. Like you had done this a thousand times before. In a previous lifetime, perhaps.

The kiss deepened, her tongue exploring yours with the same careful attention she gave to every aspect of your being. Her mouth moved against yours with a rhythm that spoke of ownership, of belonging, each sweep of her tongue claiming territory that had always been rightfully hers. Not anyone else’s.

The taste of her, sharp and sweet like consecrated wine, filled your senses until there was nothing else. No past mistakes, no future uncertainties, just the perfect present of her mouth commanding yours.

Your heart thundered against her desk, no longer from fear but from the raw intensity of being truly seen, truly possessed. Each sigh you drew was heavy with the innate air of submission you emanated, sweeter than any prayer you'd ever offered. And she inhaled it blissfully.

"Out there, they only know how to take from you," she whispered against your lips. "But here, my precious girl, I'll make sure you get everything you need. No need to look outside ever again."

“Yes,” was the only thing you needed to say, and it was the only thing she needed to hear.

She left a kiss on your cheek, both as a thankful gesture and as a silent assurance before she knelt to the level of her desk where you were still bent over, now in front of her.

You felt her warm breath clash against the sensitive skin between your legs as she pushed your underwear to the side.

She trailed her tongue against your folds, making you gasp at the sudden foreign intrusion. No one has ever tasted you before. Natasha thought it was too intimate.

But screw Natasha. There you had everything you’d ever needed.

Her eyes widened in awe. She had just discovered a flavor so intoxicating, so essential, that she couldn’t imagine life before tasting it. And the last ounce of self-control vanished as she lunged forward, devouring your pussy with the desperation of a starved creature finally set free.

She wanted you to interiorize with every fiber of your being that this was where you belonged, under her ministrations, receiving the divine attention only she could provide.

It was overwhelming, not just physically, but emotionally. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes shut tight and your head struggled to process the intensity of it all.

"Oh, Wanda!" You whimpered, your voice thick with need for more. Always needed more of her, didn't you? The words barely made it past your lips before dissolving into desperate gasps.

It was all too much. The cool surface of the desk against your heated skin, the warmth of her mouth claiming you so intimately, the sting from your punishment mixing with rising pleasure until you couldn't distinguish between the two.

"Tell me where do you belong," she demanded, pulling back just so she could speak. The sudden absence of her tongue made you whine pathetically. You felt hollow inside.

"With you, only with you!" You vowed, proudly. "I've always been yours."

Your admission seemed to ignite something animalistic in her. She growled against your flesh, the vibrations making your thighs tremble.

Your hands fisted helplessly against the polished wood, seeking grounding as your body threatened to collapse under the assault of her mouth.

The world outside ceased to exist. There was only her mouth working you with devastating precision, only the building pressure deep in your core that threatened to tear you apart. Your consciousness narrowed to a singular point of pure feeling.

"Give it to me, my sweet girl," she murmured, her words muffled against your flesh.

Your body responded to her command before your mind could process it. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, manifesting itself through your release, and she swallowed every drop of it. She wasn't going to stop until she made sure to dry you out.

Your vision blurred, spots of light dancing behind your closed eyelids as you succumbed completely to her dominance, that didn't seem to cease despite your surrender.

"Oh, p-please..." you gasped, though you weren't sure what you were begging for, to stop or to continue.

Regardless, she didn't stop, didn't even slow down. If anything, your pleas spurred her on, her tongue moving with renewed vigor as she worked you through your release. Your legs shook violently, and if not for her firm grip on your hips, you would have fell down like a ragdoll.

"Mine," she established, finally pulling back to admire her work. Your swollen, pink pussy throbbing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

A rustle of fabric caught your attention, followed by the cool touch of silicone against your worn out hole. She leaned over you, pressing soft kisses along your spine as she aligned herself.

"My precious girl," she whispered, intertwining her fingers with yours on the desk. You turned your head to meet her gaze, overwhelmed by the tenderness in her eyes.

She pressed forward slowly, letting you adjust to the feeling of being filled. Her other hand caressed your cheek lovingly, wiping away the remnants of your tears. You leaned into her touch, turning to kiss her palm.

"Please, I want you," you breathed, squeezing her hand. "Only you, always you."

She began to move with gentle, measured thrusts, each one accompanied by sweet words of praise and affection.

She leaned down to press her lips against yours in a deep, passionate kiss. The new angle made you gasp into her mouth as she hit a particularly sensitive, spongy spot inside you.

"There, my love," she encouraged, maintaining the steady rhythm that was slowly building you towards another peak. "You're doing so good. Always making me so proud."

Her thrusts became more purposeful, but never lost their tenderness. One hand remained firmly clasped with yours while the other wrapped around your waist, holding you close as she fucked you thoroughly.

Your breath hitched as she increased her pace, each thrust now hitting deeper inside you. Her lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as she drove you closer to the edge. The feeling of fullness, of being completely possessed by her, was overwhelming.

Wanda's embrace tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against her body as she continued her relentless rhythm. She delivered sloppy pecks on your lips, gentle brushes against your cheeks, tender touches along your jawline. Despite her agitated breathing, not for a second did she halt her worshipping.

"Let go for me," she whispered against your ear, her accent slipping out.

Her order, combined with the perfect angle of her thrusts, sent you spiraling into another intense orgasm. Your walls clenched around her as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. She held you through it all, her arms secure around your waist, her lips pressing sweet kisses to your temple.

"Good job," she cooed, slowly bringing you down from your high. "You're perfect, absolutely perfect."

As your breathing steadied, she carefully withdrew, turning you in her arms to face her. Her eyes were full of adoration as she cupped your face, thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. She pressed her forehead against yours, sharing the same breath, the same space, the same devotion.

"No more fucking that girl, understood?" she asked. It was clear you were never going to let Natasha lay a hand on you again, not after this. Nevertheless, she wanted to hear you say it.

"No, never again," you assured her. "I know now, I shouldn't look outside what only you can provide for me.”

"Hmm, that's how a good girl talks," she commented, pulling away from you, intending to see your reaction when she told you the following. "Well. It's not like she's going to show up again anyway. While I was fucking you, she was probably heading on a plane back to Russia.”

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leosmaxromanoff · 10 days ago

Text

Hangover

Summary: You woke up in a room that isn’t yours, two beautiful women sleeping at your sides and a bunch of memories and promises make you realise love at first sight actually exists. For once, it was a good idea you listened to your friends, right?

Pairing: married! Wandanat x fem! reader

Warnings(+18): alcohol, fingering, oral sex, strap on use, mommy kink, daddy kink, degradation kink, voyeurism, masturbation, pillow humping, praise kink, goofy! Natasha, flirty! Wanda, plot w porn I won’t lie, fluff

you don’t have permission to translate/repost my work anywhere. Please be respectful. Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated. MDNI — Regina

A/N: You guys won’t believe how the story started in my head- IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS. Also I tried to write porn without plot and failed. Here we are tho ♡ hope you like it. The middle pic is from my personal collection 🤪 I miss paradise. Also sassy is what my friends call me hehehe

Main Masterlist

The first thing you did when your mind started waking up was groan.

The room was a little chilly, your body was sore and your head was about to kill you. You kept your eyes closed, trying to decide if you should stay in bed that day or join your friends for breakfast.

You arrived to Cancun three days ago after the endless begging of your friends for you to join them on their little trip. And it was supposed to be healing as you found yourself again. But right then and there, you were regretting joining them for drinks at the hotel’s bar the night before.

You sighed. The headache wouldn’t go if you didn’t take anything. And when you tried to reach for your phone, instead of touching the nightstand, you touched a warm body.

That made you sat up immediately, making you aware of your naked state as the sheets fell into your lap. Your lips parted as you looked to your left.

A brunette was lying on her back, her arm over her head trying to block the sunlight and her other hand below your pillow and her chest covered with the sheets. You moved backwards, only to bump into another body and you gasped.

When you turned to your sight, you found a redhead lying on her chest, her back bare and marked. Her arm placed protectively over your lap.

Your head started spinning a little as the memories of the night before finally flooded your mind as your eyes scanned the room that clearly wasn’t yours.

And your cheeks started burning.

(—)

The day before.

Wanda convinced her wife to have a little getaway. By little she meant a Caribbean paradise to forget about the not-so-little break up with their latest girlfriend.

They were running from their demons. Every inch of their house reminded them of the breakup and when Natasha started spending more time in the office than by her side, Wanda knew they had to leave as far away as they could.

And the redhead wasn’t so sure at first but when her wife kissed her so seductively and whispered the filthiest things in her ear, Natasha couldn’t resist anymore.

Everything was running smoothly. They tanned, read and swam at the pool like it was their second honeymoon. And they fucked like they could pound the memories out of each other. It was working, though.

Until, you walked in front of them at the pool. Wanda’s jaw almost dropped and she swore she heard Natasha growl under her breath but it could’ve been her. It was hard to say.

You looked stunning. A red bikini adorning your body, your hair pulled up, sunglasses resting at the top of your head and a beach bag hanging on your shoulder. And you stopped before them, turning around when someone called your name and Wanda’s hopes died when a tall blond man approached you.

He hugged you and your body relaxed under his touch. And Wanda couldn’t help when she sighed and turned to look at Natasha. But her wife was still looking at you, and if it wasn’t for her sunglasses, Wanda would’ve noticed the way Natasha’s eyes darkened at your sight.

Then the redhead furrowed her brows, making Wanda look back at you. You were giggling and trying to push away the man, as he took away your bag and started fighting with you.

Wanda jumped on ready to help you but Natasha stopped her. You kept laughing, pushing him away as he kept threatening to push you to the pool.

“Luke, stop!” you laughed and your voice was like music to their ears.

Were your moans as sweet as your laughter? Or did your voice drop lower when you felt needy?

But Wanda’s trail of thoughts was interrupted with your scream and a splash, flinching a little when water reached her and she gasped when you weren’t coming out of the water.

Natasha reacted first, jumping to the pool instantly and helping you out. You took a deep breath, your cheeks instantly flushed as Natasha held your hips protectively.

You brushed your hair back. Your eyes meeting a pair of unfamiliar green eyes looking at you worried. For a moment, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. And your lips parted to talk but you were sure you forgot your own name.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked softly, not quite ready to let you go and unaware of your flustered state.

“Come on, sassy, stop pretending you don’t know how to swim” Luke interrupted the moment and you weren’t sure who growled, you or the redhead.

You turned to glare at him and flipped him off, only making him laugh and then you looked back at the redhead.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you” you said softly and Natasha nodded.

The redhead helped you out of the pool and you offered her your hand to help her out, ignoring the teasing tickles from your best friend.

Your breath faltered when you took in the redhead’s image. She was wearing a black bikini top and a pair of black shorts. But that wasn’t what made you stop breathing, it was her toned abdomen and her strong arms that made you forget about everything else.

Luke pinched your side, offering you a teasing grin and you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm.

“Hey! Don’t be so mean” he grunted, placing a hand over his burning skin where your punch landed and you smacked him again “Stop!”

“That’s for pushing me, vipes” you huffed and he wrapped his arms around you, placing a soft kiss on your cheek “I’ll deal with you later” you muttered and faced the redhead again, that was now drying herself.

In that moment you noticed the brunette that was lying next to her and your mouth watered at her sight. She was wearing a mustard bikini, long legs perfectly tanned and a collarbone that was challenging you to touch just to find out if it was as sharp as it looked. She smiled at you softly and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red.

“I- we are sorry” you said softly, your eyes dancing in between them and you offered the redhead a grateful smile “Thank you for saving me, that was really kind”

“Yeah, saving you from your own stupidity” Luke teased but regretted it when both women glared at him as if they were trying to kill him on spot.

“Yeah, that too” you chuckled, a little amused that they made Luke squirm a little “But really, thank you”

It was like you weren’t ready to go, glued on your spot even when Luke was trying to make you keep walking. But you would’ve done anything to hear the redhead’s voice again and wondering how the brunette sounded.

And as if they could hear your thoughts, both smiled softly at you.

“It was nothing, just…” Natasha glanced at Luke for a moment and her eyes softened when meeting yours “be careful. It doesn’t matter if you know how to swim, games like that could end up badly”

Luke huffed like a scolded child behind you and you nudged him with your elbow making him yelp as you smiled and nodded.

“Tasha, don’t be so hard on them” Wanda scolded her wife softly and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “Glad you are okay, sweetheart”

Your breath hitched at the sound of the brunette’s voice. It was sweet and alluring. You would even dare to say motherly in a way that electrified your skin and made your knees feel weak.

Luke noticed your state. He could almost see the moment your brain malfunction and he smirked. As much as both women made clear they didn’t like him, his little game turned out better than he imagined. Still, he cleared his throat and you flinched.

“Yeah, I- huh, thank you again” you finally said, trying to remember how to breathe and waved at them “Sorry for the trouble and I hope you keep having a good time”

You started walking but Luke stood still, watching you with an amused smirk and you rolled your eyes. You grabbed him by the wrist, trying to ignore the curious eyes of the women and fighting to make him move.

“Vipes, I swear to god-“ you grunted and he chuckled, starting to move as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Come on, sassy. I have a story to tell” he laughed and you pushed him away.

Both women watched you leave as you bickered with him. And Natasha almost jumped again when you were close to falling but this time Luke grabbed you by the waist and you started smacking his arm but giggled.

“Do you think they-“ Wanda started and Natasha looked at her wife.

“I don’t think so, dorogaya” Natasha sighed and laid down, putting her sunglasses back on “I hope not”

“You hope?” Wanda smirked and Natasha scoffed “Don’t be like that, moya lyubov’. We are on the same team here” the brunette smacked her wife’s thigh playfully.

Natasha chuckled, wrapping her arms around her wife and pulling her over her lap. She kissed Wanda’s neck as Wanda tried to break free because Natasha was too cold for her hot skin.

“I know we are, but I’m not so sure we should be thinking that way” Natasha said softly and Wanda turned to look at her, letting her body curl over Natasha’s and pecking her lips softly.

“Maybe that’s what we need, Tasha”

They both looked at you. You were now at the other end of the pool, lying down as the sun kissed your skin with your arms folded behind your head. Luke was standing before you and telling your two other friends about what happened, but their eyes were fixed on you.

“Maybe, but she’s gone now, Wands” Natasha said softly. She kissed Wanda’s forehead and patted her side as she offered her wife a loving smile “But I can get creative tonight”

Wanda laughed and kissed Natasha. At the end of the day, the redhead was her true partner in crime. The rest of the world was just a fantasy.

(—)

“Do I really have to go? I’m tired” you whined, letting yourself fall onto the mattress as Maddison threw you a dress “Mads”

“None of that, baby girl, it’s Friday night” she shrugged and looked at you “Just tonight, the rest of the week you can ignore our pleads”

You sat straight and snorted “You always say that and for some reason, it keeps happening”

But you complied. Anything to keep your mind away from home or away from the women that saved your life that day. Mostly them.

They were extremely hot, even Luke made an effort to state that when he was telling the story to Noah and Maddison. And you felt their gazes more than once during the day at the pool, or maybe you just imagined that since you wished for them to keep noticing you.

You weren’t sure, though. By the way they talked, at least the little you heard, they seemed to be married but it wouldn’t be the first time you mistaken friends for lovers. You could never trust your gaydar.

So a night out to clear your mind sounded marvellous. It was that or staying at your room as your mind ran over and over again their faces like a prayer.

You started dressing yourself, ignoring Maddison when she called you a good girl and after doing your makeup, both of you left your room.

The boys were already waiting for you at the hotel’s bar since you weren’t in the mood to go full nightclubbing and that was the best you could offer. And they agreed just because if they got you tipsy enough, maybe you would be the one wanting to change scenarios.

You greeted both and sat on a barstool next to Luke that was grinning at you mischievously. You squinted your eyes as he wiggled his brows and then decided it was better if you didn’t know.

You asked the bartender for a piña colada and Luke groaned.

“Dude, you are going soft” he glared at you and changed your order for something stronger a Moscow Mule.

“No, you are trying to kill me” you scoffed and Luke laughed “Vodka isn’t my cup of tea, vipes”

“Tonight it is” he shrugged and leaned over the counter “Your girlfriends are here, by the way”

At that, you straightened your back and Luke started laughing louder. You pushed him away when he tried to hug you and grunted.

“Shut up” your cheeks flushed and you thanked the bartender when he placed your drink before you and gave a long sip “They are not my girlfriends”

“But you wish they were” he teased, nudging your side playfully.

“She wishes what?” Noah chimed in, his arms wrapped around Maddison’s waist and you groaned, hiding your face in between your hands.

“That the hot women from earlier were her girlfriends or at least one of them. Hard to tell if they are together” Luke said tapping his chin in a thoughtful manner and you punched him.

“Are they here?” Mads asked, her eyes already scanning the place and you closed your eyes.

Ever since you broke up with your ex, your friends were firm believers that the only way out of your dark tunnel was a quick fuck. Noah and Luke were insufferable about it but when Maddison chimed in, it only got worse.

And you knew they were trying to cheer you up. After all, they were the ones collecting the pieces of your broken heart. But no one was interesting enough for you to really pay attention until that day.

You didn’t even know their names and maybe it was for the best. But both women were extremely attractive, it wasn’t even fair to be that hot. Physically should be impossible and yet, they were goddesses walking down on earth.

Luke told the story, emphasising on the fact that you were flustered when you talked to them and they pushed all day for you to talk to them. You stayed firm, though, even if on the inside you wanted to do it.

But it was like tossing a coin. They could be married or just friends or worst case scenario they were straight. Either way, you would’ve ended up making a fool of yourself and you weren’t ready for that hit.

“Yeah, corner booth on your right” Luke smirked and Noah and Maddison turned their faces in the most obvious way they could.

You gulped the rest of your drink and ordered another one. They were as embarrassing as any parent could be. Well no, they were worse.

“Dude, they are one hundred percent lesbians” Noah said looking at you and you side eyed him “Mads is the only straight woman I believe is that beautiful, the rest are certainly lesbians”

“Nice wording, baby” Maddison kissed his cheek and he smiled proudly “But he is right. And they make me wish I was into women, like damn”

You sighed, loudly and dramatically. You were delusional but your friends always fuelled that side of you and this time you weren’t falling for it.

“Well, then they are married. Cheers to that” you said raising your glass and Luke patted your shoulder “Do not hit on me, Lucas”

He chuckled “I was gonna say, you could always try your shot”

You gulped again your drink, leaving your glass half empty and shook your head as you laughed.

“Last time you told me that, I found my best friend” Maddison laughed at that and cheered with you “And I’m not replacing her”

The three of them kept teasing you, trying to encourage you to go and talk to them but that only made you keep drinking. And maybe alcohol wasn’t the best solution for your broken heart, the teasing or the need that was increasing between your legs every time you glanced at them, but the alcohol was making it bearable.

In the middle of your fourth drink, the bartender pushed a new drink and you looked at him confused. It was a different drink, the glass was garnished with lipstick and you raised a brow.

“This cocktail is called ‘The Flirt’” he explained with a soft smile, gaining the attention of your friends as they turned to look at him with curious eyes “Tequila, brandy, cranberry juice and lime juice” he continued, focusing on you as you stared at the drink like it held all the answers in the world “From the ladies over there”

Your cheeks started burning as Noah and Luke high five and Maddison started laughing. The bartender offered you a friendly look but it didn’t help to soothe your nerves and you tried to give it back.

“I don’t think this is a good idea” you said shyly, finishing your drink and Luke wrapped his arm around your shoulder “Don’t”

“Sassy, it’s just a drink not a marriage proposal” he said softly, restraining himself from teasing you. He sniffed the drink and looked at the bartender “I want one, smells nice. Please”

“Take mine” you grunted and Luke ignored you, pleading silently to the bartender to go and he nodded “Lucas”

“No, we are not doing this” he said firmly and you turned to look at him “I know we tease you a lot but this is a sign, (Y/N)” you groaned and started shaking your head “Yes, it is. Take the drink and just go and thank them. If they were just being nice with you, you can come back and we all go to bed” Noah smacked the back of his head but Luke remained unbothered, almond eyes only focused on you and smiling softly “And I will do whatever you want for a month”

“You really want me to go over there, huh?” you giggled softly and his smile widened.

“It’s been six months, sassy girl” he pecked your cheek “Go and if you don’t like them, look at me and I will go and pretend I’m your jealous boyfriend”

You laughed and rolled your eyes playfully “You always want to play that role” he shrugged and you sighed “Fine, but I will make you suffer for a month”

You stood up and took the drink. Your hand slightly shaking as you took a deep breath. It felt like you even forgot how to flirt, you were rusty after five years of being in a relationship.

“Go, get ‘em tiger” he patted your shoulder and you sighed.

(—)

Surprisingly, the drink was Natasha’s idea.

But she had to do something because it couldn’t be a coincidence that they ran into you two times that day after not seeing you the whole week. And Wanda also kept throwing stealthy glances at you, although she wasn’t as subtle as she think she was. Not for Natasha, at least.

And if it went wrong, Natasha could blame it on the alcohol later. Even when she knew how to handle her vodka. But the smile of her wife was priceless when she did the request to a waiter, so it really was worth the trouble.

But Wanda’s smile faded when she watched you struggle. Your blond friend was telling you something, the bartender was looking at you trying to decide what to do and your other two friends were immersed in their own world.

You looked conflicted.

“I think we over did it, moya lyubov’” Wanda looked at Natasha nervously, biting her lip and feeling her heart race.

The redhead extended her arm and Wanda took her hand seeking comfort. And there wasn’t any other thing that could soothe her worries like Natasha’s reassuring smile.

“Well, in that case we tried and I keep my word on getting creative tonight” Wanda giggled and Natasha’s smile widened “There you are, dorogaya”

“Yeah, you are right. Maybe my gaydar is broken” Wanda sighed, shrugging and Natasha laughed.

“Or maybe she’s not into us, Wands” Natasha teased and her wife offered her an offended look “Well, into me. My wife is extremely hot”

“Hey now! My wife is hotter” Wanda grinned and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “But really, it’s okay. At least she got a free drink and…”

Natasha’s eyes flicked your way and her heart skipped a beat. You were now walking towards them, stumbling a little but with the drink on your hand. And for a second, Natasha thought you were going to throw the drink to them. But when her eyes met yours, you smiled softly and she forgot how to breathe.

“Dorogaya”

“So I think we could just close the tab and…”

“Wands”

“I really don’t mind. In fact, I think I’m feeling tired. Aren’t you…”

“Wanda!” Natasha said louder and Wanda flinched, furrowing her brows a little hurt because her wife never raised her voice. At least not to Wanda “I’m sorry, my love, but look”

Wanda then looked your way. You were closer, walking too slow for Natasha’s liking but she was enjoying the view. And Wanda’s breath faltered as she squeezed Natasha’s hand tightly and ignored when her wife grunted.

Both looked at you in awe when you stood before them. The crimson dress that you were wearing made you look like an angel of death. Their deaths. Your hair was down, your collarbone adorned with a cute silver necklace and you were wearing rings.

“Hey” you said shyly “Thank you for the drink. Seems like I owe you big time now” you joked, trying to keep your nerves in check even when the alcohol was numbing you and still your skin was buzzing.

Natasha’s jaw was one movement away from dropping, you couldn’t look hotter even if you wanted to. It should be illegal or something. And Wanda wasn’t so sure about her own name, afraid of talking and making a fool of herself.

They were never shy around women. Not when they were single and specially not since they were married. Both were natural flirts, almost bordering arrogance when it came to their looks. They knew they were hot, they knew they were charming, they were overly-confident with their skills in specially in bed.

And yet, in that exact moment, they both forgot how to talk.

On your end, the silence stretched too quickly. It was barely two minutes, but your confidence shattered. What if they didn’t mean to send you the drink? What if it was meant for someone else? What if they didn’t even want you there?

You bit your lip nervously, taking a step back and looking over your shoulder. Luke nodded and said something to Noah and Maddison, and started to walk towards you.

And Wanda finally snapped out of her own thoughts.

“Hey, sweetheart” she smiled softly and her voice electrified your skin “Did you like the drink?”

Wanda kicked Natasha under the table, not daring to look away from you and her wife growled but it was enough for her to react.

“I- well I haven’t…” your cheeks flushed and you shifted your weight nervously.

“Why don’t you join us for that drink?” Natasha said sliding over the round booth to sit closer to Wanda and gave you space “Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

There was a hopeful edge on Natasha’s voice and your legs almost failed you because she sounded so sweet. But before you could accept, Luke’s arm wrapped around you protectively.

“What are you doing, baby?”

Wanda threw a ‘I told you so’ look to her wife. Natasha’s jaw clenched at the sight of the blond man. Your cheeks were burning and you were wishing for the earth to swallow you up. The only one that was grinning and in control was Luke; the one person that didn’t belong there.

In his defence, you gave him the signal.

You took a deep breath and turned to look at him, trying to silently ask him to go but Luke was dumb when he wanted.

“Why don’t you go with Noah and Mads, hm?” you asked softly and he frowned.

“What? But you…”

“You heard me, vipes” you cleared your throat, your eyes wide opened as you tried to signal him to get on track. But you could see how slowly the dots were connecting “Lucas!”

You smacked his arm and he flinched. And finally, he reacted. Luke grinned and nodded, you could just wish he didn’t look that obvious to the beautiful women behind you as much as he did to you.

“Oh, yeah. Huh” he scratched the back of his neck and looked over you “Ladies, I think I never apologised. Sorry for the disturbance earlier and for…” you pinched his arm subtly and he grimaced “Yeah, for earlier. I’ll see you later, sassy” he leaned and pecked your cheek.

Natasha watched him leave and she smiled triumphantly to her wife. The redhead loved being right, she loved even more proving her wife wrong even when that got her in trouble. It was always worth it.

And she told herself as much when Wanda nudged her forcefully with her elbow and smiled at you with innocent eyes when you turned to look at them.

Wanda Maximoff was the devil in disguise and no one but Natasha knew that.

“Sorry about that, he just… well, it doesn’t matter” you bit your lip nervously, trying to gather your thoughts “So may I sit or should I just…”

“Please, I promise we don’t bite” Wanda said cheerfully “Unless you are into that, in that case we very much bite”

Natasha looked at her wife incredulously. Wanda only got that chatty when she was nervous, like it was her first time interacting with a woman and if they wanted a chance with you, Wanda needed to get it together.

But you chuckled and sat on the spot Natasha left you.

“I guess it depends on who is biting, so we will see” you smiled softly, gaining confidence from god knows where but it was working.

“So sassy? Is that your name?” Natasha said casually, taking a sip of her drink and your cheeks flushed.

You were there already flirting with them and you didn’t even know their names nor they knew yours. But the redhead was smooth, you gave her that.

“God no” you giggled and Natasha almost choked on her drink, could you get even cuter? “Vipes calls me by my gamertag. I mean Luke, I also call him by his gamertag” you babbled and Natasha held back an amused smirk.

You were just like her wife. Well, Wanda barely got that nervous so it was almost your fault that she was in that state. But that seemed to be your usual. And it made sense.

If Natasha had to guess, you probably were in your mid twenties. At least ten years younger than them. You seemed to come from a good family, nice manners and probably you had siblings based on the way you treated your friend. Long-term relationships were your thing, so a one night stand was barely an option and still, you were there with no expectations.

That was the redhead’s final assessment. And she was right. Natasha Romanoff was always right.

“Gamertag?” Wanda tilted her head slightly and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red, making Wanda’s curiosity spike even more.

You probably sounded like a total nerd. Or that’s what you believed while Wanda was genuinely curious. Natasha was the gamer, not her.

“Yes, dorogaya. Gamertag, you know the name you use online when you play?” Natasha explained sweetly and Wanda raised a brow, clueless “Like mine? Black Widow?”

“Oh, I see” she giggled and looked back at you “You’ll have to forgive me, perhaps I’m old” her cheeks flushed and you wanted to tell her you probably looked like trash next to her, that there was no way she was that old. But you bit the inside of your cheek nervously “And sassy is yours?”

“Something like that but my name is (Y/N)” you hummed and took a sip of your drink to soothe your nerves “And do you have names or should I just call you hottie one and hottie two?” your tongue ran before you could stop yourself and your eyes widened, coughing and not sure where to focus “I mean- god, I’m so sorry. I take it back. No, I mean I don’t take it back. You guys are hot but I say that respectfully and I didn’t want to…”

Natasha grabbed your hand and gave you a gentle squeeze, making you look at them. They were smiling a little amused but they weren’t judging. You bit your lip nervously, embracing the warmth of Natasha’s touch as she rubbed tender circles on the back of your hand.

“Thank you for the compliment, malyshka” Natasha started softly, as if she was trying to be careful of not scaring you away “I’m Natasha and this is my wife, Wanda”

“And I gotta say, you have a very cute name” Wanda added, smiling at you and almost climbing Natasha’s lap just to be closer to you because her wife got to touch you first and the brunette was competitive.

“You guys do too” you nodded, downing half the drink before you could keep talking and you made a bigger fool of yourself “You also make a lovely couple”

And they did. They truly did. It shouldn’t be fair that two women that hot were together but life was never fair. And they looked like a match made in heaven, like two pieces that belonged together perfectly. It was written all over them.

But knowing that didn’t keep you from feeling a little disappointed because the chances of them looking for a third were very thin.

“Oh, thank you. That’s really sweet, isn’t it moya lyubov’?” Wanda smiled at her wife and Natasha hummed, her eyes fixed on you even when her wife kissed her cheek.

“Is that… Russian or something?” you asked curiously and Natasha offered you a proud smile, one that made your heart flutter.

“It is. Good job, malyshka” Natasha praised and your arousal pooled between your legs “Wanda called my love and I just called you little one” she explained but you were half listening. You nodded but you were squeezing your legs thanks to the praise and the pet name, what was wrong with you?

“I’m not that little” you murmured and Wanda giggled “I’m twenty five”

“It’s not like that, sweetheart” Wanda explained with a soft smile “Although, for us you are little. In a cute way and maybe we are just older” your lips parted to ask but she tutted “It’s rude to ask a lady her age”

“She’s thirty five, I’m thirty seven” Natasha rolled her eyes playfully and Wanda smacked her arm. You giggled “You act like you are eighty or something, Maximoff”

“Says the woman that keeps complaining about her knee” Wanda scoffed and winked at you.

Their silly banter was refreshing. You weren’t sure how long they’ve been together but the way they acted around each other was something you wished you would be able to find one day. Being around someone that long for them to be your best friend and your lover.

“So, malyshka, what brings you here? To Cancun, I mean” Natasha asked grinning at you.

“For that, I think I’ll need another drink” you said shyly.

“As you wish” Natasha called a waiter over.

And you tried to collect your thoughts and feelings. It was a terrible idea to talk about your ex when you were trying to flirt with them. But they asked and you couldn’t find in yourself to lie, not to them.

Their beauty made you nervous and made your whole body buzz with need. But both women also looked at you as if they could catch you when you fell, like they would never judge.

The real question was: could you trust them?

(—)

None of you were sure how long you’ve been hanging in that booth. But the more you talked to them, the more comfortable you felt.

The moment you saw Wanda, you knew she was a sweet person. There was a light around her that was compelling, that called you without trying. But getting to know her was a full experience. The brunette was well educated, loved reading, she was the reason Natasha didn’t get a dog because she was more of a plant person and she volunteered in a music center by giving piano lessons for children that couldn’t afford them.

She was a true angel. Plus, you now were sure about her motherly energy.

Natasha, on the other hand, at first seemed like a little rigid. She teased, she flirted, but it was like Natasha was holding back. You saw the moment the redhead started easing up to you, how her body relaxed and her smile was more genuine.

She turned out to be hilarious, a goofy woman that loved pushing her wife’s buttons even when that got her in trouble, a huge protective energy and incredibly intelligent.

Natasha read you like an open book, every question she asked was precise as if she already knew the answer and wanted to confirm it. But it made sense, she ran her own security company, she needed to know how to read people. It was impressive nevertheless, because she was a software engineer and you always pictured people like that having a little more trouble when mingling.

Both were amazing and you weren’t sure if you wanted to be with them or be like them. Because together, they looked like a solid couple that knew each other better than they knew themselves.

Wanda would scrunch her nose when she didn’t understand a small thing and Natasha would be there explaining patiently to her wife in words that were more familiar to her. Natasha would tense up when a question took her by surprise and Wanda would caress her arm and lock her fingers with her wife’s.

And you wished you could be jealous, even if you didn’t know of who or what, but it wasn’t coming. Because they were also making sure to wrap you in their own bubble.

They listened to you when you talked about the real reason you were there and their eyes softened as if they were going through the same thing. Wanda asked about your work and listened carefully. Natasha asked about your goals and even offered to help if you were comfortable with.

You weren’t sure how they kept pulling you closer. Maybe it was the way Natasha kept ordering for you, not before checking in and asking if you needed something else. Maybe it was the way Wanda smiled at you softly when she noticed you were getting nervous and called you sweet names.

Both wrapped you in comfort and security. Drawing lines around you that they kept asking silently if you were okay with them crossing. Not pushing, only patience. And you weren’t sure where it was going, because they were taking their time, but you wouldn’t mind if it ended up with them being just friends. As long as you got to keep them by your side, it seemed worthy.

Then, Wanda made it very clear for you. Maybe it was the alcohol running through her veins, maybe it was her eagerness or maybe it was her impatience. But she made the effort to be transparent with you. No more dancing around.

“Has anyone told you how pretty you are?” Wanda asked with a flirty smirk, her chin resting on her fist as her other hand played with the straw of her drink.

Your cheeks started to burn. It wasn’t only the compliment, it was the way she was looking at you with hunger but mostly with genuine adoration.

They just met you. But just like you found them extremely alluring, they both were buzzing with need to have you in more ways they wanted to admit. Because the moment you sat down, it felt like a missing piece was found. The real one, not their fail attempts to fill the void.

You looked at Natasha, almost expecting her to scold her wife for being so bold. But the redhead was looking at you the same way as Wanda.

“I- well, I guess? I’m not sure” you stuttered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and giving a sip to what seemed to be your tenth drink “but that’s fine. Not a big fan of feeding my ego”

Wanda giggled, a sound that was enchanting like a siren voice and your heart skipped a beat.

“Pretty and cute. I think you should feed that ego” Wanda shrugged, leaning back and crossing her legs as she played with a lock of her hair “After all, it’s true. Don’t you think, Tasha?”

Your eyes landed on Natasha. A little nervous because her wife was blunt with you and you were afraid of flirting back. Not when you weren’t sure about their whole dynamic.

But Natasha hummed, green eyes twinkling with amusement and something you were afraid to name. The redhead leaned closer and her hand landed on your knee, her grin widened when you squeezed your legs together as her touch electrified your skin.

“Wanda is right, malyshka” Natasha smiled and gave you a gentle squeeze before leaning back and placed her other hand on Wanda’s thigh “Not only is she always right” Wanda hummed proudly and you giggled “but it’s true. You are really pretty” her eyes danced over your face, stopping on your lips before they kept going down and your skin started burning “cute” the redhead bit her lip and looked back to your eyes “hot, I would dare to say. And incredibly smart. We like smart, don’t we dorogaya?”

You looked at Wanda. The brunette was also checking you out, biting her index finger as her eyes roamed your body. They weren’t even assessing you. No, they were enjoying the view. Like admiring a painting they were ready to buy and hang to look pretty at their house.

You almost whimpered. Arousal pooling between your legs and your fingers twitching with need. You wanted to blame the alcohol for your horny state, but it was all their doing. Everything about them was a turn on and they hadn’t even touched you.

And your body buzz with excitement at the thought of they doing it because if they could do that much without their touch, what would happen when they did?

“Very much. It’s why a fell in love with you” Wanda looked at Natasha and they leaned closer. Closing the gap between them, lips locking in the steamiest kiss you had ever witnessed or had.

You bit your lip, moving your leg impatiently and tugging the hem of your dress. But then, everything stopped because a moan escaped your lips before you could even process it.

Natasha and Wanda broke the kiss, sharing a knowing look that you didn’t see because now you were downing the rest of your drink and fighting with the ice cubes as if they could cool down your burning cheeks.

“Everything okay, malyshka?” Natasha smirked, watching you try to merge with your glass and when it didn’t work you called over a waiter.

Your ears reddened, feeling the amused gazes of the women as you tried to order a drink. The waiter glanced at Natasha, as if he was asking permission since she had been ordering for you all night. The redhead nodded, her eyes barely leaving you and when you turned to look at them you started coughing.

“Easy there, sweetheart” Wanda said with faux worry and leaned to grab your hand. You nodded, clearing your throat and trying to smile at them “Well, Natasha asked you a question. Won’t you answer? It’s rude to ignore”

Wanda ignored the small pinch her wife gave her. The brunette’s eyes darkened with more hunger as you squirmed on your seat. You weren’t nervous. Well, not as much as you were turned on by her tone. It was deliberate and commanding. And when Natasha looked at you, she saw desire written all over your face.

“I- yes. Sorry” you managed to say and looked at Natasha “Everything is okay, Natasha. Thank you for asking” you glanced at Wanda for a moment, trying to see if she was pleased but when she didn’t move or say anything you looked back to Natasha “and sorry for ignoring you when you asked”

It should’ve been humiliating or that’s what you thought trying to make sense of the tingle in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t find in yourself to care about it. Not when your heart was seeking approval from them.

The redhead offered you a proud smile and nodded, but you almost moaned again when Wanda talked.

“Good girl. Such good manners” you held back a whimper as Wanda started playing with Natasha’s hair. You thanked the waiter for the drink and Wanda stopped him before he could leave “Perhaps we should close our tab, moya lyubov’”

But she wasn’t looking at Natasha, Wanda was looking at you and you choked mid-drink. You started coughing again and Wanda smiled with amusement.

“Yes, please. It’s time for us to go” Natasha said to the waiter and he nodded, excusing himself to get the receipt.

You took a deep breath and started to slide off the booth. Both women looked at you confused as you stood up and smiled at them, opening your small purse and searching for cash.

“I guess that’s my queue to leave. Thank you both for the lovely night” you said softly, pulling out some money and offering it to Natasha that looked at you like you just insulted her “It’s not much but I can’t let you pay for all my drinks” you explained, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as your other hand trembled nervously as if the money felt heavy on your palm.

“That’s not necessary, it was my pleasure” Natasha smiled, her eyes now unreadable as she looked at you and you bit your lip.

You were too focused on her to notice when Wanda found her way out of the booth and stood next you. But the warmth of her hand startled you for a moment. You looked at her, her hand still tender over your arm as she caressed you and you eased up.

“We are not ready to let you go just yet” Wanda said softly, her eyes flicking for a second to your lips and she looked back at you when she caressed your cheek with the back of her fingers and you leaned into her touch without fully realising it “Such a pretty girl. So reacting”

Natasha appeared behind Wanda, arms instantly wrapped around her wife’s waist as she rested her chin over her shoulder and smiled at you.

“We were hoping for you to join us in our room” you looked at her in awe and for a moment, Natasha doubted herself but she forced herself to keep going “It’s okay if you don’t want to or you are uncomfortable. It’s just that booth is bad for my back and I’m sick of these clothes”

“I- I don’t want to impose myself” you stuttered, stepping back and regretting it when you lost Wanda’s touch “I’m sure you have more interesting things to do than entertain me” you forced a laugh but they both looked at you even more confused.

“Yeah, we have more interesting things to do with you” Wanda said closing the gap between you again and she grabbed your hand, giving you a gently squeeze and you relaxed “But if you don’t want to, we will understand”

“Just don’t leave because you think we don’t like you” Natasha added with a reassuring smile and you bit down your lip.

It was a bad idea. You started liking them way too much and that could only end badly. At least, that’s what you were trying to convince yourself about. But your mind was already lost in both pair of green eyes that held all the promises in the world and were ready to give you the universe if you asked. For a night, but it sounded worthy.

“Are you guys sure? I really don’t want to…”

“Don’t finish that sentence, malyshka” Natasha said a little more firmly, a tone that told you there was no room for argument “We are sure. What about you?”

“Yeah. Fine, let’s do it” you sighed and both smiled proudly, like using your words was all they need “Let me go tell my friends”

Wanda stopped you before you could walk, her grip more firm as a silent command and you couldn’t fully understand why your body kept reacting to every order they gave you. Their words told you were free, the commands were silent but not pushy but you weren’t so sure now you wanted that freedom. Your body wanted to follow commands, would your mind like that too?

“I’m sure you can text them, right?” Wanda said softly and you tilted your head slightly “My feet are killing me, sweetheart” she explained and you smiled shyly.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. I’ll text Luke” you said pulling out your phone and they smiled proudly again, making your heart fluttered with satisfaction.

“Well, I guess then we go now” Natasha said softly and hoisted Wanda in her arms and the brunette gasped “for your feet, dorogaya”

“Always my hero” Wanda pecked her lips and then winked at you “Lead the way, pretty girl”

Your breath hitched and your heart raced. But you started walking. If it ended in tears, you would gaslight yourself into thinking it was the alcohol’s fault.

(—)

Natasha and Wanda’s room was on the top floor. The one reserved for members. And when they opened the door to their suite, you wondered once again how rich they were.

They dressed, looked and talked expensive. Did they taste the same?

And maybe Natasha diminish her company, making it sound like it was a small business but standing at the entrance of that big room was telling you otherwise.

“Oh, sweetheart, apologies for the mess” Wanda said softly next to you once Natasha put her down “Natasha forgets to clean after herself”

Natasha snorted, already standing next to bed and picking the phone “Yeah, me. Because I wear these” she said amused, showing her wife a red thong and your cheeks flushed when Natasha winked at you “Yeah, good night. I would like to order room service?”

Wanda approached her wife and smacked her arm as Natasha played around when Wanda tried to snatch the thong out of her hands. It was impressive the way her voice didn’t waver while doing so, like nothing was going on even when her wife was threatening to kill her silently.

You giggled softly, not able to look away. And Wanda finally snatched the piece, although something told you Natasha let her win.

The brunette turned to look at you as her wife grinned behind her making you laugh a little, but Wanda’s stare made you stop and you pursed your lips. She approached you and your feet almost moved to close the gap, Wanda was faster though.

Her index finger curled beneath your chin and lifted it up. Your cheeks blushed as green eyes studied you carefully.

“What’s so funny, sweetheart?” her voice was dripping with sweetness. A trap wrapped in silk and you shook your head “Nothing? Hm, interesting”

You bit your lip nervously, playing with your fingers as you tried to look down but Wanda wasn’t letting you. The brunette was enjoying every delicious second of you squirming under her gaze.

And maybe now the alcohol was doing the trick because you could swore Wanda was leaning closer to you, her breath colliding against your face with a mix of cherry and vodka. Or maybe it was you the one that was being pulled closer, you couldn’t tell.

Your lips brushed against each other’s, you closed your eyes as your body buzzed with excitement and then Natasha broke the spell.

“Maximoff, leave her alone” Natasha said wrapping her arms around Wanda from behind.

For a second you were scared but when your eyes met the redhead’s she was amused and her eyes were darkened. She whispered something in Wanda’s ear, her eyes not daring to leave you and then it was Wanda’s turn to blush and bite her lower lip.

“Fine, I’ll behave” Wanda sighed finally and broke the embrace.

She started cleaning a little. It was true, the mess was hers but Natasha was the one to blame for that because she made it almost impossible for her wife to pick something when the redhead kept threatening her to rip it off her body.

The reason they were out was to get you out of their minds, to focus on each other and not the need of having you. And when you walked in, it was like a divine sign. Or at least that’s what Wanda said.

Natasha placed a tender hand over your hip and your breath hitched with the firmness of her touch. You wondered if she was always so gentle or if she was holding back to not scare you away.

“I hope you don’t mind” she started as her other hand cradled your jaw and you leaned into her touch. She offered you a soft smile even when you saw a flash of fear in her eyes for a moment “I ordered some drinks and food, you can’t have an empty stomach with all the alcohol you’ve been drinking” your cheeks were burning, you weren’t sure that was going away anytime soon. And you tried to look away but Natasha tutted “None of that, malyshka. Don’t hide from me, please”

Your heart melted. The softness of her voice made you want to hug her but you weren’t so sure. And your mind started running crazy, being flooded with unnecessary thoughts.

Why were they so sweet with you? Why putting this much effort into someone they just met? They had the perfect life, the perfect marriage and yet, they were showering with attention and care.

“Why me?” you whispered, your tongue betraying your mind and Natasha furrowed her brows as her eyes clouded with confusion “Why are you guys being so nice to me? We just met”

Natasha opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door and she sighed, like the interruption really bothered her. You offered her half a smile and she looked at you with apologetic eyes when she had to let you go.

“Come sit, sweetheart” Wanda called you from behind and you walked towards the sofa, swallowing nervously as you sat down “You okay? Did Natasha say something? Romanoff!”

Natasha was walking behind a man as he pushed the small cart with food and drinks.

“What I do, dorogaya? I swear it wasn’t me” Natasha said softly, grinning at her wife that was glaring at her “Thank you, we will leave it outside when we are done”

The redhead tipped him and he left, but her wife was still watching her with her hands over her hips and Natasha chuckled nervously. Wanda was ready to lecture her.

“She didn’t- Natasha didn’t say anything wrong” you rushed to say when Wanda opened her mouth and both looked at you.

The brunette approached you and crouched before you, taking your hand in between hers and looked at you with soft eyes.

“Are you being honest, sweetheart?” Wanda asked trying to read your face and you nodded “Words, pretty girl”

“Yes, Wanda” you whispered, lost in her gaze and Wanda smiled.

She stood up and looked at Natasha, that just grinned triumphantly and Wanda rolled her eyes playfully.

“Saved by the cute girl” Wanda teased her wife and Natasha shrugged.

“What can I say? I’m a saint!”

Wanda hummed and Natasha sat in the sofa in front of you as her wife placed a glass before you and some snacks over the coffee table. Then she joined the redhead, curling beside her and resting her right elbow over the back of the sofa.

They went back to assess you, seeking any sign of discomfort as if they already knew your body language. And at that point you were almost sure. Both seemed to be able to read you so easily.

Natasha leaned forward, taking a sip of her drink and then resting her arms over her thighs. You swallowed and bit your lip.

“You asked why” Natasha said softly and Wanda tensed slightly. Without having to look at her wife, Natasha leaned back to place her hand over Wanda’s knee “Wanda and I have been together since what? High school, my love?”

“Officially, since college. But yeah” Wanda smiled softly at Natasha and looked back at you again, her smile still on her lips.

“We were best friends, then lovers. We got married” Natasha’s gaze was soft, like she was trying to tell you everything she couldn’t with her eyes “And I love her with all my heart as much as she loves me” they looked at each other, like their love never wavered but only got stronger. Wanda pecked her lips and whispered something before they looked back at you “But something was missing. Well, not something. Someone”

At that, Natasha tensed up. You saw the moment her eyes clouded and she straightened up, her hands leaving Wanda’s knee to fold her arms over her chest. She was shielding herself.

Instinctively, you moved to the edge of the sofa. Your body trying to reach her, to comfort her or to at least apologise for asking, for forcing her to say something she didn’t seem ready to say.

But Wanda shook her head subtly, smiling gratefully but asking you silently to give Natasha a moment. You nodded and sat back.

“We work perfectly, don’t we moya lyubov’?” Wanda smiled at her wife, her hand already rubbing circles over her thigh and Natasha relaxed and looked at Wanda “Everything is almost perfect” the brunette caressed her wife’s cheek.

“Almost” Natasha whispered and as much as you wanted to look away and give them space, you couldn’t. Natasha looked at you again “but we need balance in our lives, you know? Someone to keep us in check, to remind us to live before we get consumed with our own things” Wanda intertwined her fingers with Natasha and both smiled at you “Someone with enough power to make us feel more free”

Your lips parted as the silence stretched in the room. Your cheeks were flushed and you shifted nervously on your seat. The words were sinking in your bones. Feeling so right that it scared you, because the words sounded real.

No one could be that mean to lie, right? But given your list of exes, you couldn’t trust your own judgement. Still, your heart needed to believe.

“I don’t think I am that someone” you murmured and Natasha stood up “I’m flattered, really. You’ve been so sweet to me. You both are awesome but…”

The redhead sat next to you and your voice died down. Natasha caressed your cheek tenderly as your breath hitched, her thumb brushing your lower lip as her eyes followed her movements. And then she brushed your hair back.

“We think you are. Yeah, we just met but look at us” she said softly “You are an attraction force. You didn’t leave our minds all day and then we talked to you and you sound so collected” Natasha leaned closer and you bit your lip “I don’t think you even know it. But if you are not comfortable, you can leave. We just needed you to know”

Your heart was drumming in your ears, your cheeks were burning but your mind went completely silent. Natasha’s eyes were twinkling with sincerity, a little fear and like she just opened her heart to you. So you did what you’ve been wanting to do all fucking night.

You kissed her.

At first, she flinched a little as her muscles stiffened. But when her mind finally realised what was happening, her lips started moving. Natasha was careful, her plumped lips softer than you imagined and gentler. She tasted like vodka and lime. But mostly, she tasted like a promise.

You whimpered, trying to deepened the kiss and Natasha pulled back. She smiled softly and shook her head, brushing your nose with hers.

“Not yet, malyshka. You are going to get me killed” she chuckled and you furrowed your brows.

“Killed? What do-“

A small tap on your shoulder cut you off, your cheeks heating up even more when you remembered the brunette. You turned to look at her, swallowing nervously and an apology already on the tip of your tongue but she raised a brow.

“If you dare to apologise, you will regret it” Wanda said firmly, sitting next to you and tapping her thigh “Come here, sweetheart”

Your mouth ran dry and you glanced at Natasha, that gave you a small nod and a reassuring smile. You straddled Wanda’s lap and her hands grabbed your hips, keeping you steady.

She leaned closer. Lips brushing your neck as she inhaled your scent. You smelled like coconut, summer breeze and dreams. You held back a moan when she placed a soft kiss on your jaw, your fingers locking on her shoulders trying to ground you and she smiled.

“You are so damn beautiful. Less than a day knowing you and our lives already shine” she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “You are perfect, sweetheart”

Before you could reply, before you could even think of denying her words, her lips captured yours. Wanda was a little rougher, impatient, but gentle all at once. Her tongue outlined your lower lip and you followed her silent order, opening your mouth.

Her tongue was on a mission, like she was trying to memorise every inch of you and her grip tightened on your hips. You moaned against her lips, your hips grinding against hers when she bit your lower lip, tugging it playfully and she smirked when you grunted.

“Such an impatient pretty girl” Wanda teased you and pecked your lips again “Did you eat something before going to the bar or were you planning on getting wasted?”

You looked at her in awe. Her tone firm but sweet, another trap wrapped in silk. One you would’ve run straight into if Natasha didn’t stop you.

“I wouldn’t lie if I were you, malyshka” Natasha said amused, leaning closer to you “She smells the lies from miles away”

Wanda hummed in agreement and you bit your lower lip, slightly distracted by Natasha’s fingers over your thigh.

“I- I didn’t” you admitted shyly “But I’m not hungry, I swear”

Wanda squinted her eyes, making you squirm over her and Natasha laughed.

“Maximoff, leave her alone. If she wants to eat, she will do it” Natasha smirked and Wanda pouted, looking at her wife “No, you won’t get away with everything you want”

“But she will need energy” Wanda defended herself and you gasped, making both look at you “unless you don’t want to…”

You leaned and kissed her again. You couldn’t trust yourself with talking. Not when they looked at you like they just found a treasure or how cute Wanda looked when she pouted. And the way she melted under your arms just fuelled your need of her.

You broke the kiss when Natasha huffed and when you turned to look at her, she was pouting like a child. You smirked amused as Wanda giggled and kissed your neck.

“What?” you asked wearing a cocky smirk. One that disappeared when Natasha stood up.

The redhead was taller than you, but you could almost feel the power radiating from her. She looked bigger, imposing, like she could ruin you if she just snapped her fingers.

It was her turn to smirk, sending a shiver down your spine and you almost squeaked. But Wanda started licking your neck and you whimpered when Natasha leaned.

“Not so cocky now, are we?” Natasha whispered and you bit down your lip “You are really lucky it’s our first night, malyshka. Really lucky”

It wasn’t a threat. She wasn’t warning you either. No, her words were a fucking promise. And instead of fearing her, you wanted to challenge her. You needed to see how far it could go.

Your brain wasn’t fully understanding how two women you just met, had total power over you. They weren’t forcing you, they weren’t pushing you. They kept giving you options and as free as you could feel, you didn’t want it. You wanted to be theirs.

It was the type of power that came with a lot of promises. The one that just asked for trust and care in return. Because Natasha and Wanda had some power over you. But you? You were the powerful one in that room. They would give you the universe if you just asked. All you had to do in return was trusting them. You had to give them the room to ruin you in all the right ways and they would be yours forever.

“Sweetheart, breathe” Wanda whispered in your ear and you realised your heart was racing, threatening you to jump out of your chest. You took a deep breath and looked at her “Good girl. Now be nice to daddy and apologise for making fun of her”

You moaned at the title. Your cheeks flushing when your eyes met Natasha’s. The redhead was grinning, green eyes daring you to not follow Wanda’s order. But you wouldn’t dare even if you wanted to.

“Sorry, Nat-“ Wanda pinched your side and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red “Sorry, daddy”

“Such an obedient plaything” Natasha said proudly.

Her fingers locked around your chin. A firm and steady grip that made you moan again as she leaned and kissed you. The first kiss was gentle and caring, this one felt like a claim.

Natasha kissed you like she was marking you, owning you and at the same time she was giving herself to you. Your head felt hazy. Your body craving them as if their lips over you weren’t enough.

Your fingers tugged Wanda’s hair when she bit your neck and the moment you moaned, Natasha’s tongue swirled with yours. It was like a practice dance. As if both knew all the right spots in your body, all the right things to do and say.

And it clicked.

You broke the kiss, panting and pushing Wanda away gently. Both looked at you confused and you tried to collect your thoughts before talking because you could potentially ruin your night.

“I’m not the first one, am I?” you asked carefully, watching the moment they shared a look and then went back to you “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. I’m sorry if I overstepped”

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t” Wanda cradled your jaw and gave you a sad smile “I wish I could tell you, you are the first one but you are right, you aren’t”

“But you are the one we want” Natasha added and smiled “and before you dare to say again we just met, sometimes you just know. We can’t name what it is, but we know we want you”

Your heart fluttered “What happened to…”

“That’s a story for another day, sweetheart. Why don’t we move this party somewhere more comfortable, hm?”

Wanda looked at Natasha and her wife nodded. You gasped when the redhead hoisted you over her shoulder, she was way too strong. She handled you with ease and care, putting you down on the bed and smiling like she just grabbed a pillow.

“Do you want us to stop?” Natasha asked softly and you shook your head “Remember what mommy told you, malyshka. Use your words”

You whimpered “No, daddy. I don’t want to stop”

“Good girl” Natasha smiled proudly.

Wanda knelt behind you as Natasha crouched and started taking off your heels. Wanda unzipped your dress slowly, tossing your hair aside and she kissed your shoulder blades. Natasha started kissing your legs and your mind didn’t know where to focus as Wanda pulled your dress down slowly.

The experience was something you had never felt. They were acting with so much care, making you feel safe. As if they were unwrapping a gift and wanted to engrave the experience in their minds.

The redhead helped her wife taking off your dress and both moaned at the sight of your body. Black lingerie covering your body and you couldn’t find in yourself to feel shy. Not when they were looking at you like you were a masterpiece.

“If you want to stop, you will say so. Understood?” Wanda whispered in your ear, tilting your head to the side and kissing your neck.

“Yes, mommy”

The praise came as a moan. Your words igniting Wanda’s skin as you used the right title. The brunette started sucking on your neck and you grunted. And when you looked down, Natasha was already kissing your thighs.

Both were marking you, their hands caressing your body like you were made of glass. As if you could break underneath them if they were rougher with you.

Your knees opened when Natasha moved up and she smirked. Your body was already reacting on its own. Your mind was silent, trying to remember every kiss, every movement, every sound they were making.

Your breath faltered when Natasha stopped in your covered cunt. She inhaled your scent, whimpering as her mind tried to decide what to do. And when she placed a chaste kiss and moved to your abdomen, you grunted.

Wanda unhooked your bra, throwing it somewhere around the floor and you tossed your head back when she cupped your breasts. You hid your face in the crook of her neck, kissing her as she pinched your nipples.

And you moaned, feeling Natasha’s tongue over your skin as Wanda’s hands worked over your chest. Your teeth sank in her skin and the brunette growled when you started sucking.

Your hips bucked up when Wanda’s fingers were replaced with Natasha’s mouth. Her tongue swirling over your harden nipple and her lips popping when she let you go.

The redhead continued to mark you, bruises appearing over your skin as a statement. When her knee pressed against your cunt you moaned and started grinding to ease the tension.

“Easy, malyshka” Natasha whispered in your ear “We are getting there”

Then you whined when they stopped touching you. Both kissing over you as you looked up. They were rough, you could almost feel the power battle that was taking place over you.

Your fingers hooked in Natasha’s pants and the redhead broke the kiss to looked down on you with curious eyes. You smiled innocently.

“Too much clothes, daddy”

Wanda chuckled as Natasha smirked with amusement and they shared a loving look, checking on each other before they kept going. The brunette pecked her wife’s lips and said something in russian.

Their attention was back on you. Moving around you with ease and Natasha made you stand up. You tripped and she caught you. Your heart melted when you heard a soft ‘I got you’ that felt like an oath.

“Who do you want to undress first, little one?” Wanda asked softly and you bit your lip.

Your eyes danced in between them. Your ears ringing as you tried to decide and when your breath hitched, the brunette’s hand wrapped around your wrist. You looked at her and she smiled reassuringly.

“Perhaps our cute girl shouldn’t choose” Natasha suggested tenderly and your cheeks flushed. Her finger traced your collarbone and she smiled “it’s a huge decision, isn’t it malyshka?” you moaned at her tone. Natasha was stripping you from your freedom, the one that came with consequences and a lot of anxiety “Mommy and daddy will do it for you. Sit and watch”

You nodded and sat at the edge of the bed. Your eyes fixed on them as they helped each other out of their clothes. Their movements deliberate, their eyes glancing at you every now and then with smiles that reached their eyes.

Wanda turned around. Natasha unzipped Wanda’s dress and her tongue traced her wife’s spine. You weren’t sure if Wanda moaned or if it was you. You clasped your legs to get some relief.

But your underwear was ruined when Wanda knelt before Natasha. It was one hell of a sight as the brunette looked up to her wife and took off her pants. You whimpered when Natasha stepped out of her pants and took off her shirt.

Both were goddesses. Your eyes were trying to decide where to focus. Natasha’s toned abdomen was calling you but Wanda’s long legs were alluring. You needed them both, not sure if you needed them to touch you or you needed to touch them.

As if they could read your thoughts, they approached you. Standing before you with softened eyes, giving you silent permission to touch.

You swallowed, not ready to pick between them without feeling you were failing them. Wanda smiled at you knowingly and looked at her wife.

“Dibs” Wanda said triumphantly and you looked at them confused as Natasha chuckled.

“No, you can’t call dibs. She gets to do it” Natasha said amused and you tilted your head with curiosity “Mommy wants to pick who goes first. Do you want her to pick, malyshka?”

You giggled softly and nodded “Yes, daddy” you looked at Wanda and grinned “You pick, mommy”

The brunette caressed your cheek and smiled proudly. She leaned to peck your lips, leaving a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Our perfect girl” she praised you and you smiled “Tasha, sit on the bed”

Natasha huffed but complied, she knew better than to piss off her wife by not following orders. The redhead sat next to you with a grin and you giggled when she winked at you.

“If you piss mommy off, I will let you cum sooner than later” Natasha teased and you gasped but Wanda smacked her thigh.

“Do not give her ideas” Wanda scolded and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “Sweetheart come here, kneel before daddy”

You did as told, eagerly. And Natasha moaned at the sight of you as you looked at her with doe eyes that twinkled with excitement.

Wanda knelt behind you, kissing your neck and then your shoulder. She pressed her chest against your back and you moaned when she nip your earlobe.

“Daddy is so beautiful, isn’t she?” Wanda purred and you nodded “Do you want to touch, little one?”

“Yes, mommy, please”

Wanda hummed proudly and took your hand. She showed you the way, your fingers caressing her legs tenderly. Natasha rested her body over her elbows, tossing her head back when your hand reached her thigh.

“She will never say it out loud, but she loves being worshipped” Wanda murmured and you whimpered as she guided your fingers over Natasha’s clothed cunt “Natasha acts all tough and powerful, but she is a golden retriever in disguise. A woman that needs to be taken care of” your thumb pressed against her clit and Natasha moaned, a sound so heavenly that you thought you could come just by hearing it “Show her how much you want her, sweetheart. Make daddy feel good”

Natasha gasped when your arms hooked around her legs and you pulled her closer with strength you didn’t know you had. And your body moved with a mission in mind.

The redhead watched you licked her abdomen, sucking and marking her. Her body was perfect, museum worthy. Wanda helped you unhooked her bra and you sucked her right breast first and then the left one.

Natasha’s breath hitched as you kept leaving bruises over her body. She didn’t like love bites, at least not that much unless Wanda was doing it to prove a point. But with you doing the job, looking at her like you’ve been dying to taste her and own her, Natasha knew she was fucked.

Maybe you weren’t their first addition to their marriage. They’ve tried multiple times and as much as they gave themselves up, it never reached that point. Not because they didn’t want to. It was because they never felt ready.

It could be the alcohol in her veins or her foggy mind. But instead of wanting to stop you from keep bruising her, she pulled you closer.

Wanda took in the image, noticing the way Natasha was letting you step into a territory she barely unlocked. The way her wife was holding you close as she unravelled under your touch. And she smiled because as much as the three of you felt like something that could vanish as soon as the sun came up, Wanda knew it wouldn’t happen.

They just found you. They wouldn’t let you go any time soon.

Not when Natasha felt so safe. Not when Wanda’s body buzzed with excitement and need she had never felt with anyone but Natasha. Not when you were so obedient, so eager, so fucking perfect.

Your tongue traced a line down her body. Your fingers hooked on the waistband of her underwear as you asked silently for permission and Natasha nodded, biting her lip as she watched you undress her.

You moaned at the sight of her slick. You leaned and kissed her thighs tenderly. And when your lips met her cunt, you both moaned.

“Take your time, sweetheart” Wanda cooed, her hand snaked between your legs. You whimpered when she tossed aside your underwear “I got you”

You swirled your tongue over Natasha’s clit, moaning at the taste and Wanda pressed her thumb against yours. You ran down your tongue making Natasha buck her hips up. And when your thumb rubbed circles over her clit as your tongue entered her, Natasha tossed her head back with a loud moan.

Your movements started gentle, slow, almost afraid of rushing things. But then your hunger came out to play, drunk on her taste and her moans. The way her fingers twitched next to your face trying to restrain herself from tugging your hair.

And your mind was hazy, moaning against her cunt as Wanda’s fingers worked between your legs. You whimpered when she pushed two fingers inside of you, your knees spreading a little more to give her more space to work and Wanda hummed satisfied.

The three of you were moving in sync. Wanda’s lips marking your back as she pumped her fingers, you eating Natasha out like she was the last meal on earth and the redhead finally broke and tugged your hair, guiding you as she bucked her hips up, grinding her hips against your face.

“Fuck, malyshka” Natasha whimpered, forcing herself to watch you and when she met your eyes she moaned louder “You look so perfect like this. I’m almost jealous, thinking your tongue worked on someone else” you grunted and Wanda fastened her movements, a possessive rhythm took over with Natasha’s words “Yes, baby, just like that. Don’t stop”

You pushed your hips back, trying to get Wanda to move faster. And she complied, her mind deciding she couldn’t wait for you to come around her fingers.

Natasha tugged your hair again and you whimpered, your eyes fixed on hers and you sucked on her clit and she moaned, not only at the sensation but at the way you were looking at her.

“I’m so close, please don’t stop” Natasha begged, feeling her abdomen tightened and her knees clasped in your head “Fuck”

Wanda licked your shoulder and smirked “You will come when she does, sweetheart. So it’s up to you”

Your eyes rolled back, your walls clenching around Wanda and your abdomen tightened as you tried to wait. And Natasha came moaning your name. She collapsed against the bed as you slowed your movements, your chin dripping with drool and her arousal as Wanda kept you in place.

“You made her a mess, sweetheart” Wanda whispered and you pressed your right cheek on Natasha’s thigh, moaning as Wanda kept pumping her fingers and her thumb rubbed circles on your clit “Mommy is so proud of you, little one. You are such a good girl. Cum, baby, claim your reward”

Your back arched against her chest, your head leaning on her shoulder and Wanda sucked on your neck as you came around her fingers. Your desperate moans filled the room and Natasha straightened up, watching the way your body trembled against Wanda’s.

The brunette slowed her movements and she captured your lips with hers, tasting her wife and moaning against your mouth. You bit her lip harshly and she whimpered. And she broke the kiss when she pulled out her fingers as you grunted.

You watched her lick her thumb clean, her eyes fixed on you for a moment before looking at Natasha. The redhead understood the command, leaning closer with her mouth opened as Wanda pushed her fingers in.

Natasha looked at you as she sucked her wife’s fingers, tasting you and moaned. You watched her mesmerised, noticing the way her eyes rolled back when Wanda pressed her fingers down her tongue. Natasha’s lips popped when Wanda pulled out her fingers and smiled.

“You taste better than I imagined, malyshka” your cheeks flushed and she signalled you to get closer “And that pretty mouth does wonders, mommy will love it” her knuckles caressed your cheek “Our perfect girl”

Natasha kissed you tenderly, your skin flushed and your heart racing. You were sure you could never get tired of her lips. The way she kissed you was charged with something you couldn’t name but it sat right on your bones.

Wanda stood up, leaving you both as you made out. Your body hovered Natasha’s as you climbed the bed and her hands squeezed your ass making you moan. You only broke the kiss when your lungs started burning needing more air and you smiled at Natasha.

“You are perfect too, daddy” you leaned and kissed her neck “So perfect”

Natasha grunted as you sucked on her neck, her hand slapping your ass and made you moan. The redhead tugged your underwear, contemplating ripping it off and the consequences. But it lasted one moment before she did it anyway and you gasped.

“I’ll buy a new pair, don’t worry” she grinned and you giggled.

Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, founding you extremely cute. It was a balance, silly things during an intimate moment that warmed her heart. Someone that didn’t expect her to be cold and heartless but actually enjoyed her goofy self.

“Tasha!” Wanda gasped and you both turned to look at her “It was such a nice piece. Why you do it, moya lyubov’?”

“My hands have mind of their own” Natasha grinned and Wanda chuckled “I see you brought the big guns”

In that moment, you noticed the strap on her hands and you gasped. Wanda looked at you amused, approaching you as if you were her prey. The small break was over because it was Wanda’s turn and Natasha was going to show you the right way to treat her wife.

“You are so tight, sweetheart. I think you deserve to be stretch out” you moaned as she brushed your lips with the tip of the toy “Sadly, it won’t be me doing it. Daddy doesn’t like to share her toys” she pouted and Natasha chuckled under you.

“Malyshka, sit closer to the headboard. I’ll show you how to treat mommy, hm?” Natasha instructed and you looked at her “And since it’s our grand opening night, I will let you enjoy the show as you please”

Natasha winked at you and you growled at her words. You moved around the bed, following her orders and the redhead gave you a proud smile that only increased your arousal.

You took off what was left of your underwear and tossed it away, your body getting comfortable between the pillows as you watched them carefully.

Natasha went back to her powerful state. Imposing and commanding as she watched her wife putting the strap in place around her hips. The redhead told her something in russian and Wanda grunted, stripping off her underwear and kneeling before Natasha.

It was hard to tell which one held the power over the other. They both seemed to share but in that moment, the picture was clear.

Wanda looked at her wife with devotion. Letting Natasha handle her as she pleased. Focusing on her and not daring to look away, not even when the brunette wanted so bad to watch you.

And as easy as it looked, the only reason Wanda bent to her wife’s wishes was because she loved Natasha dearly. Enough to give up her own power, enough to show the redhead she was hers too.

Natasha looked at you and you moaned. They looked perfect, delicious, you couldn’t even feel left out because they were letting you watch their interaction. It was hot the way they surrendered to each other, their love an intoxicating force that not everyone could see fully. Not like this. But you were lucky by just witnessing.

“Mommy’s tongue ran a little earlier, don’t you think?” Natasha smirked and looked down to her wife “Telling our perfect girl how much I love being worshipped, how soft I can be, how to hold power over me” you and Wanda moaned. Natasha’s smirk widened and she turned to you “I’ll pay back the favour. Here’s the secret, malyshka” her hand grabbed the toy and she brushed it against Wanda’s lips. Her wife opened her mouth and Natasha pushed it gently “Mommy looks so collected, so expensive, you wouldn’t even dare to think how much of a slut she is” your hand landed between your legs as Wanda bobbed her head “She walks around the world pretending she doesn’t like to serve, to please, but her inner slut always comes out to play in the bed. Isn’t that right, my love?”

Wanda and you moaned. The brunette’s mouth stuffed with the toy as your fingers played with your clit. Natasha looked so powerful like that, holding your attention and your needs. Knowing what to say and when to say it. A side of her that she always showed; composed, in control, intimidating and powerful.

Because her goofy self was for those that were close to her. She couldn’t be nice to everyone, it wasn’t in her nature to trust any stranger and yet, she trusted you. Natasha was willing to let you see every part of herself.

“Malyshka, be a dear and toss me a pillow” Natasha asked gently and you moved to complied. She smiled gratefully and dropped the pillow before Wanda “Come on, my love. Put on a show for our girl. Ride it as you suck my cock”

Wanda whimpered, her hands grabbing the pillow and putting it underneath her. Her head kept bobbing on the toy, the tip meeting the back of her throat as Natasha tugged her hair.

It was also hard for Wanda to show that side of her. Because Natasha’s words were true; the brunette walked around the world with all the confidence she had. Every inch of herself screamed power and she loved it.

Wanda loved the control, her ability to solve everything as if the world depended on her and the power all of it gave her. But when Natasha stripped her out of her power, Wanda also found a way to breathe.

She wouldn’t say it out loud, she would deny it if asked, but there was something about giving her power up for the woman she loved the most that was thrilling. But she felt vulnerable.

Her power shielded her from the outside. None of their exes had ever witnessed the power exchange between them because Wanda couldn’t let them see that side of her, the one that could break if handled poorly.

However, you were there. Touching yourself at the sight of her sucking the strap and humping the pillow and instead of seeing someone easy to destroy, you still looked at her like her power was never gone.

No, Wanda still had power over you. She wasn’t vulnerable. Wanda didn’t feel the ache in her chest or her usual fear igniting inside of her. She was free, holding everything and letting it go all at once.

Natasha fucked her wife’s mouth as if she could just come by the sight. You pumped two fingers inside you as you applied pressure on your clit. And Wanda was humping the pillow like it could save her.

“Seems like our girl is liking the show, Wands” Natasha grinned at you, her fingers tugging the brunette’s hair and you moaned when Wanda choked on the strap “Who would’ve thought? You are a slut just like mommy, hm?”

You whimpered, curling your fingers inside as Natasha paid attention to both of you. You were part of the show, they were letting you in and it felt like your body was on fire.

The gagging nosies Wanda was making were driving you to the edge. Her neck was flushed and you could see drool dripping. But what almost broke you was the moment you saw a tear rolling down her cheek.

You wished you were Natasha in that moment. The sight of Wanda from above was heavenly. A sight that shattered the powerful image of the brunette, the same woman that commanded you with a single look.

You moaned louder, your hips bucking up trying to reach your high and Natasha looked at you with a smirk. She pulled out the toy and Wanda coughed trying to regulate her breathing. The redhead crouched before her wife and grabbed her chin.

“Keep moving, Wands” she ordered and Wanda whimpered, hands steadying herself over the floor as she was grinding her hips “But look at her. Look how much she loved watching you being a slut for me” Wanda’s eyes met yours and you both moaned, your abdomen tightened and you tossed your head back as you came around your fingers “I wish I could take the credit, my love. But you did that, don’t you love it? Someone finally matched your slutty ass”

And with that Wanda fell apart, her orgasm crashing over her bones. Natasha’s words landing in all the right ways. And when you finally regained yourself back, you crawled over the bed. You laid down over your chest and reached for Wanda, the brunette moaning your name like a prayer as she slowed down her movements with her eyes closed.

Your eyes met hers when she finally opened them. Panting with her cheeks flushed like she just realised how much of herself she let go and afraid that you would think less of her. But when you cradled her jaw and caressed her cheek with your thumb, Wanda leaned into your touch.

“Thank you, mommy” you whispered “you looked amazing”

Natasha smiled softly, watching the interaction as her heart raced. You were giving them all they needed, all they craved and you didn’t even know. They cracked open before you and you weren’t judging, you were following them.

Wanda leaned and kissed you, a tender kiss that said more than she could trust her own words to tell. A silent thank you and at the same time, she was holding onto you like you could save her.

Then she broke the kiss and reached for your hand, sucking the fingers you were using to touch yourself and you moaned when her eyes never left yours. There was something more than hunger in them, something that screamed ‘see me as much as I see you’.

“You really are perfect” Wanda whispered after she let go of your fingers “Now, let mommy and daddy take care of you”

“I just had two-“

“It’s really not about how many times, malyshka” Natasha explained and you looked at her confused “Lay on your back and let us have you, yes?”

“Yes, daddy”

“Such a good girl you are” she pecked your lips.

You laid on your back and Wanda hovered your body, not before leaving bruises over your abdomen like Natasha did earlier. She was claiming you too, marking you as a shared possession with her wife. And when she finally was face to face with you, Wanda smirked.

Her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath faltered. You bit your lip, nodding slightly as she squeezed a little more testing the limit. But Natasha and Wanda made a promise, they wouldn’t push too far that night.

They needed to try, to see how comfortable you were around them, how much of yourself you were willing to give. For them it wasn’t physical, it never was. They saw you, they wanted you, they talked to you and realised they needed you.

Love a first sight was for fairytales, but you looked like the one that could finally break them and glue them all at once. You were perfect in more than one way, you just had to believe it. And they were ready to make you see it.

“I want to try that pretty mouth of yours, is that okay little one?” Wanda whispered, brushing her lips against yours and then tracing your cheek with her nose as she inhaled your scent.

“Please, mommy” you murmured, closing your eyes as you felt Natasha’s hands over your thighs.

Wanda took a moment to admire you. You looked so eager, so innocent, so… breakable. But you were trusting them, she could feel it. Her fingers brushed your hair and your eyes fluttered open, meeting hers with a soft twinkle.

“If you could only see what we do” Wanda said softly, smiling as she brushed her lips against yours “We waited for you for so long, sweetheart. This will work out, I promise” she kissed you again and your hands held the back of her neck trying to pull her closer. Wanda broke the kiss and you grunted “Easy. The night is still young” she pecked your forehead “Now, if you make mommy cum, daddy will let you cum” she leaned closer to your ear “but I’m not like daddy, I don’t like sloppy work” she purred.

You nodded eagerly and she hummed, hovering your face and you moaned at the sight of her glistening cunt. She smelled delicious. Just like Natasha, she smelled like paradise. An expensive paradise.

“Okay, malyshka. You better make mommy cum. Tap her thigh if you need us to stop” Natasha said spreading your legs and you whimpered when Wanda lowered herself over your mouth and the redhead spit on your cunt.

Your lips sucked on Wanda’s clit and the brunette had to steady herself with the headboard. And you moaned against her cunt when you felt the tip of the toy in your entrance.

Your movements faltered as Natasha pushed inch by inch of the toy inside and Wanda grunted, getting impatient and started riding your face. You matched her pace once that Natasha bottomed out, grunting against Wanda when the redhead started moving.

Your head felt foggy. Overwhelmed by the sensation of both women over you. Their noises driving you to the edge. Wanda was moaning louder over you as your fingers dug into her skin and Natasha was whimpering, hypnotised by the way the toy disappeared inside of you.

And your back arched when her thumb pressed over your clit and Wanda’s movements turned erratic, her slick covering your face as she used you just like she used that pillow.

Soon the brunette came, legs pressed against your head as she shuddered above you. Wanda was sure she had never came that fast, not even Natasha had made her.

She moved after a few minutes, letting you breathe and moving your body so she could hold you from behind. You buried your face in her inner thigh, your hands holding her legs as Natasha hovered your body.

The redhead was focused, whimpering as she pounded her hips against yours. Your legs wrapped around her hips and both moaned when Natasha kissed your neck.

“You are so perfect, malyshka. So tight” she breathed out in your neck and you whimpered “We are not letting you go”

Natasha looked at you, green eyes as darkened as yours. You tried to talk but only a moan came out and Natasha smirked. Wanda caressed your hair, soft fingers grounding you while Natasha shattered your world.

“Do you like when daddy fucks you, sweetheart?” you looked up and Wanda’s eyes were fixed on you, engraving in her mind every feature of your face as it contorted with pleasure.

You nodded and sank your teeth in her thigh when Natasha got rougher. You needed them everywhere, you didn’t want the night to end. And when Wanda started rubbing your clit, you screamed with pleasure.

“Daddy, mommy, please” you whined, feeling so close again and Natasha grunted “I’m so close, don’t stop please”

But the redhead stopped, she pulled out and you mewled. Wanda shushed you as Natasha flipped you, raising your hips and pushing the toy inside again.

Her hands landed in between your shoulder blades and she pushed you down. Wanda’s hand tugged your hair as Natasha started grinding her hips faster, erratic, with her fingers between your legs.

“Come, detka. Show me how much you love daddy’s cock” Natasha whimpered and your knuckles turned white as you fisted the sheets.

And you came, not sure of what you screamed but your orgasm came down like a crashing wave. You whined when Natasha didn’t slow down, she went faster and rougher. Her fingers working over your sensitive clit and your nails started digging into Wanda’s thigh like she could save you.

“Tasha, I think-“

“No” Natasha grunted, looking at Wanda with hungry and possessive eyes “She can take it, right malyshka?” you moaned and Natasha pulled you up, pressing your back against her chest and bit your neck.

Your eyes met Wanda’s and the brunette searched for any sign of discomfort but when your eyes rolled back with pleasure, she knew you were okay.

She knelt before you, biting the other side of your neck. Both were marking you, claiming you and your mind was one step away of crashing. It didn’t take that long for you to come again, one hand tugging Wanda’s hair and the other one tugging Natasha’s.

And the redhead slowed down, but she wasn’t ready to pull out. Neither Natasha or Wanda were actually ready to give you a break. Not when the last orgasm was possessive, claiming and promising.

And you didn’t want to let them go either.

(—)

At some point that night and after watching them come undone under your touch, you had a break. Regretting not listening to Wanda about the food when your stomach roared with hunger.

But you were sore, your body slumped over their bed with sheets covering you slightly. You looked like a fucking masterpiece, covered in love bites all over. Sweat glistening your skin and your head hazy.

“Don’t sleep yet, sweetheart. It’s time to eat before bed” Wanda said softly, lifting your body and holding you in between her arms as you hid your face in the crook of her neck. You whined “None of that, pretty girl. You need to hydrate and eat”

“Mommy, please” you pouted and Wanda giggled, brushing your hair “Sleep now”

“She’s a little brat” Natasha grinned, straddling your lap and offering you a water bottle “Come on, malyshka, don’t get on mommy’s bad side”

You grunted but straightened up, drinking as Natasha held the bottle. Then she turned and held a club sandwich before you and you pouted again. The redhead chuckled but you sighed, reaching for a fry but Wanda smacked your hand.

“Sandwich first” Wanda ordered and you rolled your eyes, Natasha held back a grin.

“Daddy is more fun” you groaned and took a small bite of the sandwich as Natasha bit a fry and wiggled her brows, amused.

“You say that now, until she is the one mad” Wanda whispered in your ear and nip your earlobe “And if you keep being a brat, I’ll show you the real deal”

Natasha laughed and fed you a fry, then she offered her wife a bite of sandwich and Wanda looked at her gratefully.

“She’s right, I’m more fun” Natasha teased her wife, shrugging and biting another bite.

Wanda glared at her but you giggled. They kept bantering as you ate. And your eyes wandered over their bodies, they were as bruised as you. Not once did they stop you. They let you claim them as well and that made your heart flutter.

When the brunette was satisfied, Natasha cleaned up and Wanda moved to cuddle you. She pecked your lips and then peppered kisses all over your face making you giggle. And when she smiled at you, your breath hitched.

“Thank you for trusting us, sweetheart” she whispered and nudged your nose with hers “You did good”

“Thank you, mommy” you murmured and pecked her lips again.

Natasha laid behind you, covering Wanda’s body with the sheets and then hers. Her arm wrapped around your hips and pulled you closer, leaving a kiss behind your ear.

“Let’s rest, malyshka. Tomorrow we can talk about everything” she whispered and you nodded.

And they kept whispering sweet praises until you fell asleep. Natasha looked at Wanda one last time, a silent conversation being held over your sleeping body. They kissed softly and went back to nestle your body between theirs.

You were perfect. And they would make sure you knew it.

(—)

You slid out of the bed, careful not to wake them up. And when you stood up, you tripped a little, gasping.

The only thing you could blame the alcohol for was your damn headache. But every decision that night was yours and your heart wanted to believe everything was true and not just a dream.

You bit your lip. No, you wouldn’t ruin this for yourself with insecurities. You couldn’t when they were so sweet before, during and after everything. And if it was a lie, then they would have to tell you themselves.

Your phone started ringing and you jumped a little, running and trying to answer before waking them up. You tripped with the sofa, grunting as you reached for your purse and when you turned around, Wanda was already looking at you, leaning back on the headboard as you answered.

“Dude, where the fuck are you?” Luke’s voice was on the other end and Wanda beckoned you and your body moved on its own, you could swear on that.

“I’m a little… busy” you said softly and Wanda raised a brow with amusement “Why? What do you want?”

“Breakfast? Open the door, I’ve been knocking” your best friend groaned as you crawled over the bed and sat on Wanda’s lap.

And if Wanda’s mood wasn’t enough to prove you they were planning on keeping you, her lips sure did because they found their way to your neck soon enough.

“I’m not there, vipes” you bit your lip as Wanda licked your throat “But I’ll meet you at the restaurant”

Wanda slapped your ass and you held back a moan, looking at her confused and she started shaking her head. Making you furrow your brows.

“What do you mean you are not here? Oh wait!” he started laughing but you couldn’t snap at him, not when Wanda kept roaming your body with her hands “You still with them? Naughty girl!”

“I’m not telling you shit” you smirked but it faded away when Wanda mouthed ‘language’, you rolled your eyes and she slapped your ass again making you whine.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just tripped” you lied and Wanda giggled, pecking your lips “Anyway, see you at breakfast like in…” you looked at the screen but Wanda blocked your view and you frowned “Yes, Wanda?”

“You are not leaving” she sentenced and you looked at her in awe.

“But I’m hungry” you pouted and heard Luke screaming on the phone “Lucas, give me a minute. Shut up!”

Wanda grabbed your pillow and punched Natasha with it, her wife groaned and grabbed the pillow by the third time. She glared at her wife and you held back a smirk.

“What?” Natasha grunted, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Then her eyes found you and she squinted “Why is your phone in your hand, malyshka?”

“She’s trying to leave” Wanda replied and your jaw dropped, you grabbed the pillow from Natasha’s hand and punched her with it “Watch it, little one”

“That’s not- I’m not trying to leave, I swear” you looked at Natasha “I’m just hungry” Luke shouted your name again and you groaned “Luke, I said shut the fuck up! Give me another…”

“Luke, right?” Natasha said after snatching the phone from your hand and you looked at her stunned and Wanda smirked “Yeah, Natasha here. I don’t think she will make it to breakfast” the redhead hummed as she smacked your hand away and Wanda went back to kiss your neck “I see, yeah. When are you leaving?” she grabbed her phone and looked at the hour “Sure, we will join if that’s alright with you and your friends?” she hummed again and typed something in her phone, showing it to Wanda and her wife nodded “Yeah, see you then. Thank you”

Natasha hung up and placed your phones together over her nightstand and your jaw dropped. You weren’t sure if you heard right, but apparently the redhead already decided they weren’t going to leave your side.

“What did he tell you?” you asked as Natasha kissed her wife and looked at you amused.

“Something about a trip to Women Island?” she shrugged and leaned to kiss you “Hope you don’t mind if we tag along”

“I- I don’t but I don’t think you want to hang with four strangers and-“

“We are hanging out with you and may I remind you this stranger made you moa-“ you clasped your hand over her mouth as your cheeks started burning and she raised a brow.

“Fine, three strangers. They are stupid and teasing and…” Natasha licked your hand and you moved it away “Hey!”

“Oh so now you don’t like my tongue? Wasn’t she asking me to never stop using it last night, dorogaya?” Natasha asked to Wanda and the brunette laughed.

“Yeah, I remember that” she teased and you groaned, trying to get off Wanda’s lap but she kept you in place “What I don’t remember is giving you permission to move”

“Is this my new life? Am I gonna get teased for the rest of my life?” you said without really thinking about your words but when realisation settled, you panicked “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Yes, that’s what you should expect for the rest of your life” Natasha smiled and grabbed your hand “And we don’t mind hanging out with your friends. It will be good getting to know them since you know… you are kinda stuck with us now”

“You make it sound like a threat, moya lyubov’” Wanda laughed and you bit your lip “We don’t have to go if you don’t want us to”

You looked at them, like really looked. Their eyes were twinkling softly, their smiles didn’t waver and they kept one hand touching you as the other were linked.

They made it look like you’ve been part of them all their lives, as if they didn’t meet you the day before but like you belonged there already. And your heart melted.

Maybe you didn’t take the best choices in the past, but this felt right. They felt right. So what if you just took a leap of faith?

“Yeah, okay. Let’s do it” you smiled and leaned to kiss each one of them “and I mean all of it, if you guys still want me” you whispered shyly and Wanda caressed your cheek.

“I know a way or two to show you how much we want you” she purred and you whimpered “What do you think, Tasha?”

“Yeah, I know what you are talking about?” the redhead smirked and you moaned.

“Again?” you grunted when Wanda pushed you down in between their bodies and their lips were already on your neck.

“Again. And again after that” Natasha whispered and you bit your lip but your stomach growled and the redhead laughed.

“Or not. I guess she really is hungry” Wanda chuckled and you groaned, looking down to your abdomen.

“No, no, I’m not hungry. Come back” you whined but Wanda was already picking up the phone to order room service “She won’t let it go, will she?”

Natasha patted your thigh “You get used to it, now come back to my arms and wake me up when food is here”

And when you settled in her arms, watching Wanda reading the menu and ordering for you as Natasha kissed your shoulder and held you protectively, you knew whatever happened next it didn’t matter.

You really could do that for the rest of your life.

1K notes · View notes

leosmaxromanoff · 10 days ago

Text

𝒿𝓊𝓃𝑒𝒷𝓊𝑔

;༊ dom!natasha x soft dom!wanda x reader

summary — when natasha presents at a local westview university, the last thing she expects is to find a pretty little junebug to take home to her wife. she really doesn’t expect to find out just who her little junebug is either… or maybe she does.

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, camgirl, dom/sub relationship, bdsm dynamics, eventual mommy kink, eventual daddy kink, shameless smut, aftercare, additional warnings are provided in each part, men/minors dni

au — natasha’s a biotechnical researcher at her own company and wanda’s a high school teacher grappling for control in their busy lives

PARTS — added as written

moodboard

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leosmaxromanoff · 12 days ago

Note

If requests are still open, is it possible to get a subby milf Wanda x neighbours daughter college student r?

If not all good, I love your blog 💚 you’re actually so talented, I’d read your shopping list if you wanted to publish it…

love thy neighbour

wanda maximoff & fem!reader

tags: smut, sacrilege (a lot), cunnilingus, fingering, semi public & public sex, infidelity, manipulation, slight obsessive & possessive behaviour, angst, fluff, sub!wanda maximoff, dom!reader. MINORS DNI.

word count: 9237

summary: You meet your new neighbours when you visit home for the holidays. With homemade treats and friendly advances, Wanda seems to have intentions of becoming closer with you, and she won’t settle for anything less.

a/n: this took weeks to finally work on but im so thankful for your request, this christmas fic couldn’t have been done without it <3

Your semester was finally over.

Exams were finished.

Assignments were finished.

Buying groceries for yourself and attending weekly class were finished.

Until next semester came around, anyways. But that didn’t cross your mind when you wheeled your luggage up the snowy driveway of your house and to the front door where you knocked.

You were glad for a white Christmas, though your tremulous drive back begged to differ.

But nevermind that.

The front door of your house was pulled open and a gust of warm air from inside laced with the palatable scent of homemade dinner embraced you.

Nevermind any of it.

Your mother pulled you into a hug and your father took your luggage up to your bedroom.

For the next few weeks, you could forget about anything that didn’t have to do with the holidays and spend every day of it precisely how you wanted to, schedules and deadlines finally be damned.

There were a few things that had changed around the house since the last time you visited, including a strangely-decorated Christmas tree in the corner of your living room that your father had obviously decorated on his own without listening to any of your mother’s input.

You spent the next forty minutes in your bedroom unpacking in time for dinner downstairs with your parents. Perhaps if you had known there’d be guests, you would’ve changed out of your casual jeans and hoodie.

It was only until you stepped foot downstairs in the living room when you reconsidered your attire. But just then, a family of four came into view- a tall finely-dressed man and who you assumed to be his wife turning to look at you.

“This is our daughter, Y/N,” your mother introduced, stepping over to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. She mused, “She came home not more than an hour ago.” Her face turned to you with a proud smile.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” the tall man greeted, extending a hand that you shook. “I’m Vision, and this is my wife Wanda. We’re your neighbour across the street.”

Your eyes moved from him to the woman beside him dressed in a wine red turtleneck and black slacks. Her dark brown hair streaked with shades of blonde was curled up to above her shoulders. She, contradictory to you, was dressed in the spirit of a formal dinner.

You wondered if it had become a tradition for your parents to dine with them since the last you’d visited. It made you feel particularly casted off from your own home as you knew little of who the family standing in the middle of your parents’ living room was.

“We’ve heard much about you, Y/N,” Wanda commented. Her voice was even-tempered and soothingly soft. “We’re glad you could make it home for the holidays as your mother and father have told us how demanding your program is.” You found you could do nothing but nod in understanding, a considerate smile on your lips.

She continued, “These are our twins, Tommy and Billy. Say hello, boys.” The two children, dressed as formally as their parents were, waved at you. One was holding his mother’s hand and they both shone polite smiles at you with the intention of being friendly.

You waved back at them with your own smile that you hoped looked as welcoming as you intended. It’d been awhile since your street had any children.

“Shall we take this into the dining room?” your dad spoke suddenly, outreaching his hands to take the casserole in Vision’s. With a nod, the dish was exchanged between the two men. The twins trailed behind your father as your mother began a conversation with Vision.

Wanda was standing beside you before you realised she had held herself back a moment to be able to walk with you. A warm smile was directed at you when you looked over at her, eliciting the first sincere upwards tug of your lips since you arrived downstairs.

Her arms were pulled forwards by Tommy and Billy and she followed their excited lead over to the adjacent side of the table where the rest of her family’s seats separated you from her side.

Your mother began serving the plates, asking neither of the guests of their preferred amount of portions other than you. Had it really been so long since you were last home?

When you looked up from the mashed sweet potatoes, curious green eyes caught your attention- it was Wanda’s, staring across the table and at your face. Not anywhere particularly, but rather running down the way your hair tucked behind your ear or the curves of your lips as you told your mother you didn’t want any cranberry sauce.

Her eyes left you once yours found hers. It was almost a bit strange, certainly, but you dismissed it as curiosity.

“Wanda is a member of the church here, Y/N,” your dad said as he poured you a glass of ginger ale.

“Wow,” you responded, looking up from your plate in front of you to nod at her in indication of a peaked interest.

Your mother continued, “She’s a choir leader. Three, sometimes four days a week, she’s volunteering for services at the church around the block. She’s really quite talented. Composed a number of pieces herself.”

Wanda said with a sheepish smile and a flick of her wrist, “She doesn’t want to hear about that, do you, Y/N?” Her eyes were on you again, but with more intention when she maintained eye contact that time.

You cut a piece of casserole from your serving and shrugged, looking back up to Wanda, then around the table to your mother. “I wouldn’t mind hearing about it,” you answered and took a bite from the portion you had scooped onto your fork.

Wanda’s eyes seemed to follow the direction of your fork that moved past your lips, then maintained focus as she watched you chew.

Vision and your father started up a conversation which called for everyone’s attention at the table with their central positions between everyone. Perhaps you’d seen it wrong, but it took Wanda a few moments for her to direct her attention from you, even when her husband moved onto another topic.

Finally, once Tommy’s exceptional grades were brought up in his physical education class, Wanda focused her attention on him and away from you, running her hand down her son’s arm admirably. She did the same for Billy when she mentioned his joining of the school’s soccer team.

After about an hour and a half of listening to yours and Vision’s family’s conversations with the occasional input from your end, you were washing dishes in the kitchen while everyone conversed in the living room. You were relieved to have some time to yourself. Dinner with guests took you for a bit of a surprise.

“Is it alright if I put these here?” a soft familiar voice asked from behind you. Wanda came into view as she rounded you to the sink holding three empty wine glasses.

Though you did enjoy meeting her.

“That’s fine,” you answered her and went back to rinsing a soapy plate. She placed the wine glasses on the counter beside the sink.

You expected for her to leave the kitchen as silently as she had come, but she leaned against the kitchen counter and your eyes flickered over to her.

“Did you enjoy dinner?”

You nodded. “I did enjoy it. It’s been a while since I’ve had a big home cooked meal like that.” She said something about agreeing to have enjoyed dinner in response.

“Did you like the casserole?”

Restraining the confused furrowing of your eyebrows that you felt beginning to tug onto your expression at Wanda’s question, you simply nodded again. “It was good. I thought the chicken was really great,” you told her, recalling the meal in detail.

“Did you make it?” you asked, looking over to her when you took a wine glass from the counter and began washing it.

Looking pleased that you suggested it, Wanda responded, “I did. The secret to it is a few pinches of paprikash in the marinade while the chicken sits the night before.”

You could hold back the amused smile that formed on your face as you listened to her sudden commentary on cooking. “That’s cool,” you replied with a nod. “Yeah, it was great. Do you and your family often come over for dinner?”

“Not very often. Most Saturdays and some weekdays if we can.”

“So, you’re close to my parents?”

“We are,” she said, almost hesitantly. “They were very kind to us when we first moved in.”

You nodded again and ran a soapy sponge through the inside of the final glass.

The older woman played with her wedding ring between her forefinger and the pad of her thumb. The moment her lips parted, Vision stepped into the kitchen.

“Wanda, the boys are ready to head home,” he told her. Wanda straightened. She answered him with a silent nod before looking back over to you.

Turning the sink off and drying your hands on a dishcloth, you said, “It was nice meeting the two of you, and Tommy and Billy.”

Vision smiled at you from across the kitchen, then raised an arm to beckon his wife over. Wanda looked back at you over her shoulder and you caught a glimpse of the soft curve of her red lips before she was at her husband’s side.

You joined your parents in time to wave goodbye to the twins as they walked across the street to their housr, Wanda and Vision holding a hand of each child. They were a conventional-looking family, the dark-haired wife bundled up in her jacket with a scarf and pair of gloves while her husband wore a sandy woollen trench coat. Their sons were squeezed between them as they waved back at your parents before their front door shut.

Guilt settled in the base of your stomach as you headed upstairs to your bedroom after bidding a goodnight to your parents. The curiosity of your neighbour’s eyes, the awkward twirling of her fingers as she approached you after dinner.

Had she wanted to get to know you?

There was warm familiarity in having everything placed as they normally were now that you were back home. Settling under your mounds of blankets while scrolling through your phone was a comfort as you no longer had anything weighing you down now that winter break had started. But the guilt of having overlooked Wanda gnawed at you still.

It didn’t matter all too much, did it? You were neighbours and you’d see each other around- plenty of time to make up for how you disregarded Wanda’s attempts at conversing with you. The two of you would likely not end up being any more than cordial neighbours with the differences that lay between you, but Wanda had been kind enough earlier that night and the least you could do was repay her for it.

You padded downstairs in the late afternoon, freshly out of bed after you heard the doorbell ring. You recalled amidst your sleepy daze that your parents were at work which forced you to drag yourself out of bed and open the front door.

Soft hair topped with a knitted-hat, rosy cheeks, and a familiar red scarf from last night greeted you once you opened the front door. The brisk winter air bit at your body half-dressed in a loose shirt and shorts, making you realise you were standing in front of your neighbour who had evidently gotten herself dressed up to visit your house.

Wanda’s soft smile dissipated into furrowed eyebrows and a concerned downwards curve of her lips. “Have I come at a bad time?” she asked you, the deep white dish in her mitten-clad hands lowering.

“Oh, no, no, no,” you blabbered and raised your hands to your hair, pushing it back behind your ears in an attempt to look presentable. “No, it’s not a bad time. But my parents aren’t home if that’s who you’re looking to talk with.”

“I was actually hoping to talk with you,” Wanda said. Something laid behind her words, though you could not decipher if it was due to the cold or some sudden onset of nerves. Blank and perhaps unfriendly confusion must have unintentionally come over your features for Wanda looked down at the dish in her hands, eyes flickering away from anywhere but yours. “But I understand if I’ve come at a bad time. I made brownies for you and your parents, so if you’d prefer I can just drop it off.”

Something opportunistic bloomed within you, a chance to make up for last night, and you stepped back into the house. “No, please, Wanda, come in,” you told her and gestured your arm back in a short sweeping motion, implying for her to step inside with you.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstep.”

“You’re not overstepping, I promise. I’ll take this from you so you can hang your things up.”

Finally, Wanda entered the front foyer and held the warm dish out which you took. While you brought the deep dish of brownies into the kitchen, you heard rustling behind you as Wanda hung her jacket up and placed her boots on the mat.

“Did I wake you?” Wanda inquired as she walked through the living room and into the kitchen behind you.

You lied, “I was laying around doing nothing productive upstairs before you came.”

“I’m glad. I hoped I didn’t bother you,” she expressed relief.

“Do you want to have some of this now? I can cut it up for both of us.”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Soft clinking of plates and forks sounded through the kitchen as you wondered what Wanda might be doing there. She took a seat at the small kitchen table in front of the oven, her movements almost completely silent if not for the squeaking of the chair’s foot against the floor.

After you turned and placed a plate with a brownie slice on each side of the table, you poured two glasses of water across from each plate.

“Thank you,” Wanda said and lifted her fork between the pad of her thumb and the side of her middle finger. Her wedding ring reflected the winter sunlight from beyond the kitchen window. A singular prong from her fork pressed into the decadent-looking brownie before she spoke again, looking up from her plate to you. “Y/N, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a question. I’ve been a bit curious about you.”

“Curious?” you repeated, looking up at her too.

With a nod, Wanda hummed in confirmation before asking, “You attend school so far from home. Don’t you feel… worried? About the distance from your parents and your hometown.”

“I suppose I do sometimes,” you pondered aloud. “I think most students who study away from home feel a bit awry about living so far.” In silent understanding, Wanda nodded and sliced a small portion of the warm brownie onto her fork. “Why do you ask?” you asked her.

“Your parents mention you often,” Wanda mentioned and looked up to you. “It reminds me of when I was around your age, I was quite interested in pursuing studying abroad. I was curious about whether you enjoyed it.”

You took a bite of the warm brownie to give yourself a few moments to think. “I’m only a few hours away, but I do enjoy it,” you answered finally. “You didn’t end up studying abroad?”

Wanda’s fork clinked against her plate. “No, I could’ve never done something like that,” she said. “My upbringing was extremely religious. I didn’t end up studying Orthodox Catholicism in the detail that my mother had hoped, but I was able to take a few English classes throughout my time at school which I loved very much. I adored Shakespeare.”

Orthodox Catholicism, was that right?

You wondered about Wanda’s personal beliefs, the opinions she might reserve about you should the two of you have any conversation past than the cordial neighbourly discussion. You didn’t press her about religion.

There was much she told you that you didn’t expect from her. She was first a dedicated churchgoing housewife then a lover of classic English poets.

A few slightly awkward moments passed as the two of you forked bites of Wanda’s brownies into your mouths between sips of cold water.

“Do you bake often?” you found yourself asking suddenly. When your eyes were laid on Wanda’s face, she did not look as uneasy in the silence between the two of you as you initially imagined she would.

Wanda answered, “I do when I have the spare time. For lunch after church services I attend, I sometimes bring over a few dishes of mine.”

“I’m sure your family loves them. You’re a talented cook.”

Green eyes watched intently as you took a drink from your glass, and Wanda smiled. “Thank you,” she said, sounding sincerely grateful for your compliment. “I hope I’m not making you feel uncomfortable, Y/N, I was just so eager to get to know you.”

The more you got to know Wanda, the cautious housewife with an impulse to please that volunteered at the church a few blocks away, the more you untensed around her. “I don’t feel uncomfortable at all. I’m really glad to get to know you a little too,” you reassured her. And you really did begin to enjoy being in her company.

Laughs came from her much easier as time passed in the kitchen together, then divulgences about her family life and congregation were shared with you as you sat together on the living room couch.

After an abrupt ringing of her phone, her husband calling her to ask if she could pick the twins up from school instead of himself, Wanda stood from the couch with you. But before she stepped into her boots, she asked with a coy tone of voice, “Would you mind if I used your washroom for a moment before I left?”

“Of course, it’s no problem. There’s a bit of an issue with the sink in the washroom here, so you’d have to use the one upstairs. Do you know where it is?”

Wanda confirmed that she did, and with her jacket on, she ascended the stairs up onto the second floor of the house. Her steps were barely audible as she walked across the floor and to the washroom across from the staircase upstairs.

While you carefully covered up your neighbour’s homemade brownies and placed them in the fridge for your parents to try once they came back from work, the woman you only just began to know as an unassuming harmless housewife sorted through your bedroom.

Nimble fingers pulled open your dressers’ cabinets then your wardrobe. She tucked pairs of underwear you owned into her jacket pockets that she adored as she sorted through them. She took photos of your perfumes and shampoo, the pills that belonged to you behind the washroom mirror. She looked over photos of you and your friends that decorate your desk and small areas of your walls, flipped through your notebooks and ran her eyes down your handwriting.

Leaving everything as it had been before she slipped into your bedroom, Wanda silently closed your door and with the washroom door open upstairs, she ran the sink for a few moments as she looked through the photos she took of your bedroom.

She joined you back downstairs after an appropriate amount of time, a soft smile on her bare pink lips. You were sitting on the couch scrolling through your phone when you looked up at her.

“Thank you,” Wanda said and wrapped her scarf around herself, then her woollen hat onto her head next.

You arose from the couch and opened the front door for her. “It was nice meeting with you,” you admitted as Wanda stepped into her boots and swung her purse around her shoulder.

“Likewise, Y/N. Thank you for making time for me,” she replied, moving past you to stand on your front porch. “See you soon.”

With a polite wave and a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes, Wanda stepped off of your porch and headed across the street back to her house.

As you shut the front door and went back upstairs to the comfort of your bedroom, the warm feeling of appreciation for growing so close to your friendly neighbour veiled any possible suspicion that Wanda had been in your room.

You did not fall back asleep once you buried yourself back in your mounds of blankets and pillows, but instead scrolled through the internet on anything about Wanda Maximoff.

Photos of polite proud smiles surrounded her at her old church came up, then articles with her name mentioned because of her community volunteering contributions, and a Facebook profile hardly used besides a few published photos of her family and a profile picture from a time where Wanda’s hair was shorter and blonder than it presently was.

It was later in the evening when you wished to let Wanda know that your parents loved the dessert she made that you realised you didn’t have her number nor did she have yours.

Wanda’s family did not come over for dinner that night.

You took special care in washing her empty dish clean- the best one could do cleaning a dish for confections.

Twinges of embarrassment ran through you as you envisioned yourself through another’s perspective, making a fuss over a dish as an excuse to see your neighbour. You convinced yourself it’s what all cordial neighbours would do.

With that, you shut the kitchen light off and went to bed internally conjuring up every phrase you’d bring up to Wanda later that next morning.

Deciding to keep up good impressions, you woke up earlier that morning around nine. Dressed up for the visit across the street, you walked over to Wanda’s house.

It was a nice morning. It wasn’t actively snowing, but glistening white blankets covered the sidewalks and the street’s roofs. The sun was beaming down on you, enough to warm the tip of your nose yet maintain the brisk chill of winter.

With the dish balanced in one hand, you knocked on Wanda’s front door. You could see the warm gold and red outline of a Christmas tree past the living room’s partially opaque curtains and a variety of plants that decorated the windowsill.

The front door opened and your neighbour appeared dressed in a tan dress and sheer black latex tights. She seemed to be ready to head out.

“Y/N,” Wanda breathed your name out, a smile on her red lips. “Hello.”

You answered, tempted to look past her and into the warm ornate Christmas decorations in her house, “Hi. I wanted to return your dish. My parents really liked it. They told me to thank you.”

“Oh, yes,” Wanda said, looking down at the dish in your hands. “Come in. I’m happy you all enjoyed the dessert.” She closed the door behind you and a wave of deja-vu came over you as you recalled yesterday afternoon.

The subtle scent of homemade treats and cinnamon enveloped you as you stepped into the warm home.

Wanda lifted an earring from her palm and turned to look into the small mirror beside the door. “I’m just getting ready for mass. Vision is at work and the boys are at school. Do you have any place to be?”

She looked over at you from the mirror once both gold stud earrings were put on.

“No, nothing planned for today,” you replied finally.

Wanda took her dish from your hands carefully and headed into her kitchen. She offered, her voice echoing through the hallways to you still standing in front of the door, “Then would you like to accompany me to church? I’m not volunteering this morning- just attending the service.”

“Would it be okay? I don’t think I’ve ever been to your church although I’ve lived so close for a while.”

You heard a small amused laugh from Wanda in the kitchen. “Of course. The church is open to all- newcomers and old,” she answered.

You bristled at that terminology.

Newcomer.

Even if you accepted her offer, you didn’t anticipate being a regular attendant.

Wanda returned to the living room with her purse slung over her shoulder and a winter coat on. She leaned down beside you to slip a pair of heeled Oxfords. “Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalm…” she recalled the Bible verse, “hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.”

When she straightened, she was smiling over at you. “Attending mass is always a pleasure for me. I would like to extend that joy to you. But it is your choice. You don’t have to come.”

Though she gave you every opportunity to deny her, to turn away and say that you would rather occupy your day doing something else, you found it difficult to envision any sort of dejection as you peered at her curious green eyes through her rimless glasses.

Without a moment’s thought, you answered, “I’d love to go.”

Your neighbour’s smile upturned into a grin and she nodded once. “Perfect. I was planning on walking as Vision has the car. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I have my car parked in the garage, I could drive us both there,” you offered immediately, stepping back to allow Wanda to open her front door and step out onto her porch with you.

With a cheerful chirp and a beaming smile, Wanda spoke, “Sounds like a plan.” After locking the door behind her, she hooked an arm around yours and the two of you crossed the road together. You helped Wanda into the passenger's seat and then slid into your own.

On the way there, Wanda discussed more of her religious upbringing with you once you asked her about her passions. You worried you were imposing yourself too harshly on someone you had only just begun to know, but curiosity got the best of you.

Wanda Maximoff was a traditional churchgoing housewife with two children and a perfect marriage. She baked for your family and offered to take you to one of her church’s masses. She was perhaps the kindest woman you’d ever known.

How could you stand to reserve your questions about her personal alignments any longer?

Fortunately, Wanda seemed open to sharing with you what you were curious about. Her mom was, alike to her, a hardworking stay-at-home mother who tended to her and her twin brother in their childhood. Her father was a tireless man who worked every hour possible to earn for his family. It seemed the differences between her families was generational, wherein family dynamics and generational wealth shifted somewhat since Wanda last lived under her parents’ roof.

Through schooling and religious camps, she met her husband at the age of nineteen. He was her summer camp counsellor who was nearly seven years her senior.

Her parents loved Vision, a well-mannered man with priorities set well into the future and capable of supporting a family of three- perhaps even up to two more members if they ever wished to grow. They settled down when Wanda was twenty-two.

Now at thirty-three, Wanda was still happily married with two twin boys in a quiet neighbourhood wherein she had a high standing at her local church and general community.

As a college student yourself, her feats were daunting but impressive all the same. Wanda was an amazing woman.

Thus, the number of well wishes and brief conversations Wanda partook in as the two of you walked from the church’s parking lot to the building’s vast front doors did not come as a surprise to you.

Though it had struck you as odd as you noticed how adverse Wanda was to introducing you to members from church and her other community friends.

Unless any of them mentioned you as you stood right beside her, she wouldn’t mention you at all. Even the most obvious of referrals to you, eye contact made or a nod in your direction, would be ignored. If it wasn’t the most explicit of mentions of your being there, Wanda would squeeze her arm around yours and walk ahead with you.

Wanda would introduce you along the lines of, ‘This is my neighbour, Y/N. She’s come to spend the holidays at home.’

‘How kind of her to come attend mass with you,’ they would say.

Wanda would nod politely, though uncharacteristically without any further remarks. Even compliments on her choir sessions and composed songs which Wanda would typically flush at and dismiss as overt flattery were responded to with unadorned expressions of gratitude.

Finally, the two of you took a seat at the front pews, Wanda’s hand on your hip.

“Come sit close to me, Y/N,” she told you, hushed. “We don’t want to get separated.”

With your head ducked and your chin tucked close to your chest, you whispered, “Do we have to sit so close to the front? There are some seats at the back.”

“We must sit up front and pray as such. Settle here with me. I will show you how to worship.” She took your hand and led you down into the pew.

You sat down beside her, shuffling right and left in accordance with the rest of the church’s members also taking their respective seats on the same pew as you and Wanda. But with a hand on your knee, she kept you close.

Wanda kept a watchful eye on those around the two of you as if hoping to me keenly observant of something. Then, the priest, dressed in his black alb that nearly reached the floors, created an illusion that he was gliding across the front of the church. He reached the front, by the podium and its microphone, and exchanged a few silent greetings with those sitting at the front pews.

In response to a small wave from him, Wanda nodded cordially at the priest.

Wanda slipped her jacket off. It pooled by her hips and she placed her purse between her hip and yours. You did the same with your jacket.

The church’s service progressed, a series of kneeling and standing, hands clasped together and chins tipped upwards. You listened to Wanda sing along with the church hymns while you followed from a songbook.

The mass sang a handful of Christmas songs and you were amused as you listened to Wanda sing.

She did have a nice voice. It was soothing and demurely sweet.

You should’ve expected it, but you were stunned all the same. She was a model woman, a model Catholic, a model wife and human being. You looked away from her then, at the realisation of her sterling magnificence.

Suddenly, as if she had been aware of the way you stared at her throughout the entire service and was attuned to every shift of your focus, Wanda looked down her shoulder at you, who was slumped slightly down onto the pew’s kneeler.

“Y/N…” Wanda whispered, eliciting your attention back up to her. “Are you paying attention?”

You nodded, correcting your posture to kneel as Wanda was.

“But each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed,” the priest continued to read from the Bible perched up on the pedestal. “Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.”

Gentle flipping of the thin pages echoed through the church’s speakers and he continued, “For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world.”

“Will we be seeing you next mass, Ms Maximoff?” the priest asked by the exits of the church once the service came to an end.

You stood beside Wanda, awkwardly, averting your eyes from those that passed you who peered at you curiously, an unfamiliar face standing beside perhaps the most well-known member of the church.

“Are you alright?” a voice suddenly cooed.

You looked up from the ornately tiled floor to the woman beside you- Wanda, looking over you with a curious gaze. You managed a nod, perhaps one that was at least almost convincing.

But Wanda looked at you for several moments more.

She bid a farewell to the priest and hooked her arm around yours. Then, wordlessly, the two of you walked past the opposite flow of people walking by the two of you.

You rounded a corner together, revealing an empty hallway that led to a closed room at its end. Moving forward, Wanda turned the knob and allowed the two of you in.

A silent room enveloped you, the colourful stained windows reflecting a soft myriad of colours into the four-walled room. Smaller, then, the two of you moved forward, to what appeared to be a wide wooden closet.

Wanda unhooked a latch, pulling the door open and stepping into the confessional booth. She tugged you towards her then closed the same wooden door, confining the two of you to the right wooden box.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, you could feel it in your fingertips.

Your breath hitched and Wanda placed her hands on your hips, stepping forward into the tight booth and removing any space from you.

“Y/N…” she whispered, her voice a fragile gust of warm breath. “The prodigal daughter, how terribly I’ve fantasised of you. You are all I’ve ever hoped for myself.”

Her hand found your cheek, fingers fondling your soft skin and running her nails down to your chin gently. “So brave and kind,” she continued. “So smart. And pretty.” Her cheek pressed against yours, her lips ghosting against the lobe of your ear.

“Wanda…” you muttered, turning your head and disconnecting your cheek from her own. But she moved closer again.

“Trapped in a marriage like mine, a studious child then an ever-dedicated wife and mother. Never having any other path, Y/N. You…” Wanda pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “I admire you.”

One of her legs moved past yours so Wanda could turn your body and push you downwards onto the seat of the confessional. Her dress hiked up her satin-covered thighs as she sat herself down on your lap, her purse and jacket a forgotten mess on the floor of the booth.

“Only a moment passed after your mother firstly told me about you- her bright daughter studying the program of her choice in a campus hours away- and it was only that very moment it took for me to become taken by you,” Wanda recalled.

She placed both hands on either side of your face, making you look up at her. “You lied to me when I woke you up that afternoon. You’re so considerate of an old woman like me.”

Her words were a nonsensical score as she spoke, “Everything I’ve ever done- planned, written out, premeditated. Otherwise engaged. Unfulfilled.”

She took her glasses off and placed them by the edge of the seat.

All you could hear in the confines of what was nothing to you but a wooden closet was the racing of your heartbeat and the hasty inhales and exhales of your shaky breaths.

Nevertheless, Wanda continued. Her hips began moving down against your lap. Her thumbs stroked your cheekbones in what felt like admiration.

“But Y/N… you were so sudden. I don’t want to wait- don’t want to pretend I’m not counting down the moments until you shove a hand up my dress and run your fingers through my wet cunt.”

Your eyes widened and you bucked upwards in a sudden panicked realisation of Wanda’s intentions, which only elicited a small whimper from the older woman. You watched as her thighs spread apart further, allowing your lap increased access to the clothed pulse of her desire.

“You’re married to Vision, and-and with Tommy and Billy…” You fumbled your words as you racked through the logistics in your mind, “And you’re my neighbour. You’re a friend of my parents.”

“You’re making excuses,” Wanda reprimanded. Her grip on your face became tighter, ever so slightly so the tips of her fingers pressed into the hollow areas beside the corners of your jaw. “What’s next? I’m too old for you? Not pretty enough? Maybe I’m not tight enough for a young girl like you?”

Her head tipped to the side inquisitively. Her eyes were solemn, though you couldn’t tell whether it was from a sincere feeling of dejection or not.

“No!” you protested with a fervent shake of your head. “Wanda, you’re-”

“Unappealing, then. I don’t attract you.”

Her eyes were sharp, piercing through your skull as if to interrogate you.

You blinked up at her, simultaneously bewildered and intrigued at the woman perched up above you. Had a potency like this only been slumbering beyond her unassuming smiles since you’d first met her?

Further, your mind wandered, curious about this angle of her and where her thoughts and feelings had hidden before now.

“I think you’re beautiful,” you admitted. “I really do.”

A pleased smile came over your neighbour, gracing her features and bringing with it the delicate expression you thought you had known. “Then? What limits you now, from indulging in what you want?”

You answered, simply, perhaps simply enough for her to become enraged at your response, “Matrimony.” But Wanda did not become angry. She laughed.

“Suddenly the virtues of the Lord concern you?” she questioned, her eyebrows furrowing together in a strange upwards curl. You didn’t respond right away, for you had nothing to say, nothing to supplement your sudden hesitation.

Wanda’s hands untensed from your face and she tipped your head upwards, supportively. Coaxingly. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised,” she whispered, though there was no need to veil either of your volumes in the enclosed room you were in.

In Wanda’s eyes, you were free, untouched by the manacles of a stubborn future and all its entails. And conversely, you were still restrained by your morality.

You were there, hanging from the precipice of indulgence and convention.

Wanda stroked your cheek with the back of her knuckles. Who would be more worthy to teach you the ways of the Lord than her?

“I’ve thought it through,” she said. “This is why I’ve brought us here. A booth of confessions and an absolute absolve of sin- anything unholy and unfaithful. Nothing is sinful in the house of Christ. My Y/N, anything we shall do here is our own. The Lord will forgive me. He will forgive us.”

Then, in a shaky exhale, Wanda spoke, “Take me as your own, Y/N.”

Your lips parted and you looked up at her in shock.

One hand detached from the side of your head and Wanda took your wrist with her hand. Then in a swiftly-led sleight of hand, your palm was pressed against her breast. With her fingers placed behind each of your own, she made you squeeze the malleable swell beyond her dress. Her head lolled back, the smooth plain of her neck and expanse of her throat becoming exposed to you.

“All yours,” Wanda sighed. Her head moved forward and she met your eyes again, though her body was arched backwards so she could roll the space between her thighs against your lap. “I will give you my body, my vessel and my blessed spirit. Oh, Y/N, take me, please.”

A small space formed in the centre of your lips when they parted in attempts to protest. But Wanda was faster.

She pulled herself forward and her chest slammed against your own, your warm breaths mingling within the mere inches between your faces in a sharp exhale at the impact. “Please,” she pried once more. The tip of her nose brushed against yours. “I want you.”

A sharp gasp escaped from beyond Wanda’s now faded red lips when your hands met her hips and you pushed her off of your lap. Initially, she slipped backwards, but your arms rounded her waist and you pulled her to the opposite side of the bench within the limited space you had in the booth.

“Y/N-”

You stood from your seat and slid a knee between both of Wanda’s. With a nudge, you parted her thighs and leaned down to capture her lips with your own.

It was a harsh action, for Wanda winced and she pulled away at the taste of blood. Your fingers wrapped around the back of her neck and prevented her from moving away. Painfully, lips pressed against the clashing of teeth.

Still, perhaps out of instinct or an intrinsic desire to be tamed, Wanda reached up and pushed at your shoulders.

Your hand reached down and pulled her dress up her thighs so they wrapped around her waist. The hem of her dress scraped against her skin as you did, and although her upper thighs were clothed by her satin tights, Wanda hissed from the contact and its sudden sharp pain.

Nails raked down against her soft lower stomach when your hand slipped further up her dress and tugged her translucent black tights down so they slipped down and pooled around her ankles.

Wanda’s arms reached up and wrapped around your neck, pulling your face down to her level. She kissed you again but you remained towering above her.

One of your arms pressed against the wooden wall behind Wanda’s head to perch yourself up, and the other travelled down between her thighs.

Your lips parted occasionally in soft wet pops between breathless pants.

Slender fingers shot down between Wanda’s legs, red manicured fingernails tucking themselves beyond the hem of her wet panties. You slapped Wanda’s wrist and her eyebrows furrowed in frustration when her hand jerked away from her core. But you were quick to appease and pulled her panties down for her.

Her slick made the soaked fabric of her underwear stick to her folds briefly before they were pulled down entirely. Wanda’s spread thighs halted the downwards descent of her panties and they snagged at the edges of her parted knees.

Cold fingertips pushed through the older woman’s sticky lips and Wanda shuddered. Her head lolled to the side, her chin meeting her shoulder.

Before returning back to holding yourself up above her, your hand wrapped around one of Wanda’s thighs and pulled her leg up around your hips so you could angle your wrist between her thighs more comfortably.

Weakly, she tried to hold her leg up around your waist. You stepped forward so her leg bent backwards further and you could hold her up with the pressure of your front. Her other leg focused on staying as parted from the other as the confinement of her panties wrapped around her knees would allow.

Finally, your fingers delved past the rim of Wanda’s opening. Your digits were warmed by her smooth walls and her back arched from her seat.

“My Lord…” Wanda moaned out, her lips pulling upwards in a wide grin. “I offer my thanks for the pleasures of the flesh- of my sacred body.”

You tucked your face in the crook of Wanda’s exposed neck. Your tongue ran up the pulse of her neck, eliciting a long moan from your neighbour.

Two fingers spread apart and curled within Wanda’s walls and the sweet sound of her parting pussy reached your ears. With the space you made for yourself, your fingers picked up speed and your arm surged forward then back.

Wanda was a melted mess against the booth’s wooden partition. Her hips jerked up desperately for more contact but her loose hold of her leg around your waist offered no leverage. She was left to arch and whine helplessly underneath you.

“Y/N,” she breathed out, her eyes fluttering open to look at you. But your face was buried deep within her neck, nipping and sucking at every inch of her soft skin that your lips danced across. She exhaled again, sharply this time, “Y/N!”

Regrettably, you parted yourself from the warm enveloping and lifted your head to look up at Wanda.

Her eyebrows were stitched together and her expression was contorted. If one could not hear the melodic sounds coming from her, one might even think she was in pain. But despite her position, helpless and without any semblance of leverage over you, the corners of Wanda’s lips arched up into a satisfied grin still, though granted it was one that quivered.

“Faster. I’m going to come,” she panted out.

You abided by Wanda's wishes and, rapidly, your fingers quickened. The confessional booth shook as you thrusted your fingers into her. Wanda’s shoulders jerked backwards in response to each entry, the pain near bruising.

“Oh, God…” she trembled. “Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.”

You advanced forward so her knee pressed into her chest. You silently mused at the way Wanda’s leg bent backwards further to allow for you to push yourself against her.

Your forehead pressed against her own and with open eyes, you watched the contortion of Wanda’s face and the parting of her lips, the rising and falling of her breasts beyond her dress as she panted.

One arm slipped from around your neck and reached back. Wanda’s fingers grasped at the metal divide of ornate patterns against the partition.

You groped at her breast, switching periodically as her chest heaved.

“Have mercy on me, my Lord,” Wanda whimpered, her eyes screwed shut so tight that she saw wisps against the insides of her eyelids. Scattered psalms and Bible verses spilled from her lips and reached your ears in such an abrupt and perpetual way that nearly made you question if you were the God that Wanda cried out for, the Lord she presently worshipped as her slick dripped down her inner thighs and coated the seat beneath her.

A sharp yelp came from Wanda’s constricted throat, “Ah, Y/N! I’m going to… my God, my holy God, I repent! I repent for my-”

Her voice broke and she cried out.

“Y/N!”

The last arm hanging from around your neck tightened around you as she came, raspy cries leaving her throat raw as she moaned out strings of your name.

Her body turned to mush the moment the last waves of Wanda’s orgasm washed over her. Her leg slipped from around your waist and her fingers tumbled from the partition’s divide.

Weak pants left her as her eyes shut, too fatigued to even keep them open. Wanda’s body was slumped back down against the wooden wall behind her. Her body shuddered and she groaned uncomfortably when you slipped your fingers out of her hole.

“Wanda…” you whispered. “Are you okay?”

Your arm wrapped around her waist and you helped her sit up. The older woman only hummed out a tired moan in response, her head nodding ever so slightly.

Your coated fingers slipped past your lips and you ran your tongue across it, licking it clean of Wanda’s tangy-sweet juices. Your hand moved forward to her mouth and your thumb swiped across her soft bottom lip.

Wanda’s tongue darted out weakly to taste herself on her lips.

You met hers with your own in a soft kiss and her eyes fluttered open. She kissed you back and smiled against your mouth.

She uttered softly, her whisper raspy and evident of the effects her cries had on her throat, “Do you want to leave now?”

“Not yet.”

You got down between her thighs and pulled her panties down further so they fell to her ankles atop of her tights. Wanda chuckled and repositioned herself on top of you. Her hands found either side of your head, steering you gently as you kissed her lower stomach and hips. She hummed, feeling pleased while your lips ran across her rolls and stretch marks.

Soft tufts of wispy hair tickled your upper lip as you travelled south. You pressed gentle kisses to Wanda’s outer lips.

When you finally buried your nose into her cunt and dragged your tongue through her folds, Wanda grinned. Your thumbs delved into her slick petal-like folds and spread them apart, allowing your tongue to lap up the sweet nectar of Wanda’s pleasure. Her head fell back against the wall behind her. Her fingers played with the hair at the back of your neck as her back arched up from her seat once more.

Three more orgasms racked through her body before you left the confessional together.

“Did I guilt you earlier, Y/N?” Wanda asked as the two of you exited the church. It was empty, the service long concluded by the time you finished with her. She tightened her jacket lapels around her as the cold winter air enveloped her warm body. After being in the stuffy confessional booth for nearly an hour, it was a harsh awakening. “Did you touch me out of pity?”

You turned to her when you reached your car in the empty parking lot. It had snowed a notable amount since the last time you were out. “No,” you answered. “You didn’t guilt me into anything. I did what I did because I wanted to.”

“Truly, I didn’t mean to force you,” she continued despite your answer. She stood on the other side of your car’s hood, her words leaving her in white tendrils in the cold air. “I was under the impression you felt the same passion for me. Was I mistaken?”

From across the snowy hood of your car, you peered at her. At least now, you knew more in the field of reading her. Her words were not accusing nor vexed. They were words of reflection, the lingering sentiments of having partaken in what she did with a girl so much younger than she.

But Wanda wasn’t feeling guilty, was she?

Did she regret what she’d done?

You looked away from her and moved to the back of the car to get the snow brush from the trunk. “It wasn’t a mistake,” you uttered though the side of your car shrouded you as you finished your answer.

You unlocked the car and heard Wanda slip into the passenger’s seat while you brushed the loose yet thick layers of snow from the vehicle.

Once the snow was cleaned from the car and you put the brush back into the trunk, you got into the driver’s seat.

An inevitable silence came over the two of you as you started the car and waited for the engine to warm up.

Thick flakes of snow, perhaps each half an inch wide, fell scattered and delicately onto the windshield only to melt into clear crystals once the heat from the car warmed it.

“Do you regret it?” you asked suddenly, your voice a low hum synonymous with the buzz of the running car.

Much to your relief, Wanda answered through a soft sigh, “No.” She turned her head and looked at you. “I don’t.”

Then it was your turn to feel some streak of guilt.

“Not for a moment in my life have I ever done anything so spontaneous,” she told you. “It felt so wonderful to make a decision like that on my own, on little premeditated thought.”

“You’re married,” you pressed, turning your gaze towards her.

Wanda urged, “I didn’t choose that. I love my boys, as does my husband. But, Y/N, what we did was something that I’d chosen. Do you understand?”

You shook your head.

She took your hand, moving it from your own lap to on top her thigh. She stroked the back of your hand with her thumb soothingly. “I do not regret it,” Wanda stated firmly.

Then she continued. “But I will not act under the pretence that you do not have every chance to make something more of yourself,” she added, eliciting your curiosity. You peered at her through her glasses.

“I do not wish to deny you any opportunity because of what we’ve done. You are not in my debt because of what you’ve given me.”

You felt your face contort at the statement and you pulled your hand away from her. “You aren’t a price to pay, Wanda. You’re not a substitute or a stepping stone,” you said.

She scoffed. “Please. Don’t you know how old I am now, Y/N?” Wanda inquired, though you knew it was rhetorical. “I have two ten-year-old children and a husband of eleven years. There is nothing I can give you that you cannot receive from someone younger, a selection as easy as picking a ripe fruit from a blossoming tree. I have nothing to bear for you.”

“You think that concerns me? It doesn’t. If it should have, then I wouldn’t have come to the service with you today,” you informed her plainly. The way in which you spoke such devotion to her bewildered Wanda. The confidence in your admission as if it were common knowledge- it planted something unsteady in her.

“You speak of the confidence your choices give you, but what of mine?” you said. “What we did, it was not done only because you chose and I swayed. In my own decision, I was unambiguous. There’s nothing more to it.”

Wanda’s breaths were steady and her blinks even-tempered. After a moment, her lips parted and she spoke, “You choose this? With me?”

“With everything in me capable of acting on my volition.”

“Which is plenty?” she attempted to clarify.

“Plenty enough to fill a dozen churches and several more.”

A sharp barely audible inhale came from Wanda and she straightened.

Then, in a swift and careful motion, she leaned over and kissed you.

The car’s heating was left on as you pulled Wanda onto your lap. You unzipped her dress and unclipped her bra, pressing kisses to her soft breasts and mapping her body out with your hands. Your lips wrapped around her rosy nipples. Her lipstick stains decorated your face in gentle shades of faded red.

Her arms wrapped around your body as she bounced on top of you, welcoming your fingers into her once again. And again, and again.

The two of you fucked in that otherwise empty church parking lot until you both grew tired, after which you dressed Wanda back up in her clothes.

Sitting on your lap with her head on your shoulder, Wanda uttered, “Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly at your service.”

“Which verse was that?” you whispered back.

“It’s not a Bible verse. It’s Shakespeare,” she answered and kissed your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut as did Wanda’s, her hand brushing against your cheek softly.

Wanda lifted her head. When you opened your eyes, she was looking down at you. A smile was on her face and her bottom lip was taken between her teeth. “Years it’s been since I’ve quoted him,” she thought aloud.

She tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed the tip of your nose. She then confessed, “I’ve missed it gravely.”

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