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marilynthornhilllover · 21 days ago

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50 Shades of Red || Chapter 13

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Wanda meets Natasha's mother, and then they have an interesting conversation over lunch.

content warnings: mentions of past sexual abuse

word count: 3.5k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Natasha sits up on the bed, the sudden shift in her weight causing Wanda to sink into the mattress as she struggles to follow the woman’s movement.

“Come on, we need to get dressed if you want to meet my mother.” She grins, leaping off the bed and pulling on a pair of slacks. They’re perfectly pressed, and Wanda can’t help but watch in slight awe as Natasha puts herself together neatly. She looks like she’s been up for hours in business meetings, rather than fucking Wanda within an inch of her life.

“Natasha, I can’t move.”

Those pearly whites flash as she grins, leaning down and undoing the tie. She gently kisses Wanda’s wrists as she does so, the slight indents fading with each second. It’s sexy… and caring. Natasha gazes at her, amused green eyes filling Wanda’s vision. She kisses her forehead quickly before pulling away from the bed and standing fully.

“Another first,” she acknowledges, but Wanda has no idea what she’s talking about.

“I don’t have any clean clothes here.” Wanda is filled with a sudden panic, her heart leaping into her throat at the prospect of meeting Natasha’s mother. Fuck. She only has her wrinkled clothes that Natasha had torn off of her, and that wasn’t a good first impression. “Maybe I should stay in the bedroom.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Natasha threatens. “You can wear something of mine.” She slips into a plain white t-shirt and runs a hand through her just-fucked hair. In spite of her anxiety, Wanda loses her train of thought as she gazes at the woman. She will never get used to looking at this beautiful woman.

Her beauty is derailing.

“Wanda,” Natasha murmurs, leaning in and pulling her up from the bed gently. “You could be wearing a sack and you’d look lovely. Please, don’t worry. I would like for you to meet my mother.” Her eyes are warm, calming Wanda. “I’ll go and calm her down.”

Those green eyes harden slightly. “I will expect you in the other room in five minutes, otherwise I’ll come and drag you out in whatever you’re wearing, understood?” The order rings out, and Wanda feels herself flush. Fuck, why was that so hot?

“My t-shirts and crewnecks are in the closet. Help yourself.” Natasha eyes her for a moment, smirking and kissing her gently on the lips before pulling away and leaving the room, the door shutting softly behind her.

Holy shit.

Natasha’s mother is in the other room. This is so much more than Wanda had bargained for. Perhaps meeting her will help put together more of the puzzle pieces that make up the woman that Natasha Romanoff is. Suddenly, Wanda wants to meet her.

Quickly, she pulls her shirt off from the floor, pleased to see it survived the night and is mostly wrinkle-free. Finding her bra from under the bed, she dresses quickly, hesitating at her still slightly damp panties. Rifling through Natasha’s chest of drawers, she pulls out a pair of soft black boxer briefs, worrying her bottom lip before slipping them on and suppressing a small smile.

Pulling on a pair of loose jeans and slipping into her converse, Wanda grabs her jacket and dashes into the bathroom. The girl that looks back at her is flushed, her eyes a little too bright and hair mussed in a decidedly just-fucked sort of way.

A ponytail will have to do.

Wanda’s subconscious purses her lips and mouth’s the word ‘ho’. She ignores her. Pulling the jacket on, relief fills her at the cuffs hang over the rope marks that had dug into her skin. With one last nervous glance at the mirror, Wanda makes her way tot he living room, reminding herself to straighten her back.

“Here she is.” Natasha stands from where she’s lounging on the couch.

Her expression is warm and appreciative. The dark-haired woman beside him turns and beams at Wanda, a full smile. She stands too. She’s impeccably attired in a sandy colored knit sweater dress with matching suede shoes. She looks groomed, elegant, beautiful, and inside Wanda dies just a little, knowing she looks like a mess in comparison.

“Mother, this is Wanda Maximoff. Wanda this is Melina Vostokoff-Romanoff.”

Dr. Vostokoff-Romanoff holds her hand out, her eyes sharp yet warm. “What a pleasure to meet you,” she murmurs. If Wanda isn’t mistaken, there is wonder and maybe stunned relief in her voice and a warm glow in her eyes.

Wanda grasps her hand and can’t help the small smile that spreads on her face, returning the warm.

“Doctor,” she responds.

“Oh please,” the woman smiles, a faint russian accent wrapping around her words. “Call me Melina.” She winks. “So how did you two meet?” She looks questioningly at Natasha, unable to hide her curiosity.

“Wanda interviewed me for the student paper at WSu because I’m conferring the degrees there this week.”

Oh fuck. Wanda had forgotten about that.

“So, you are graduating this week?” Melina asks.

“Yes.”

Wanda’s phone starts ringing. The sound reverberating from it’s spot in the kitchen.

“Excuse me,” she murmurs, her ears burning as she makes a beeline for the counter. She doesn’t bother checking the number, already prepared to hear Kate’s voice.

“Kate.”

“Oh thank God, Wanda!” Ah shit, it’s Vision. He sounds desperate. “Where are you? I’ve been trying to contact you. I need to see you, to apologize for my behavior on Friday. Why haven’t you returned my calls?”

“Look, Vision, now is really not a good time,” Wanda glances anxiously over to Natasha. Those green eyes are watching her intently, the woman’s face impassive as she murmurs something to her mother. Wanda turns her back on them.

“Where are you? Kate is being so evasive,” he whines.

“I’m in Seattle.”

“What are you doing in Seattle? Are you with her?”

“Vision, I’ll call you later. I can’t talk to you right now.” Wanda hangs up, shaking off her annoyance. Nochalontly, she walks back towards Natasha and her mother. Melina is in full flow.

“... And Yelena called to say you were around, I haven’t seen you for two weeks, darling.”

“Did she now,” Natasha murmurs, gazing at Wanda, her expression unreadable. She reaches out a subtle hand, gesturing for Wanda to stand by her side.

Almost too eagerly, Wanda tucks herself into Natasha’s side, loving the feeling of the woman’s hand immediately wrapping around her hip. It feels natural and Wanda feels warmth spreading through her body from where Natasha’s fingers gently stroke her waist.

“I thought we might have lunch together, but I can see you have other plans, and I don’t want to interrupt your day.” Melina gather’s up her long cream coat and turns towards Natasha, smiling gently at her. She doesn’t reach out, simply offering her cheek and murmuring something in Russian when Natasha kisses it briefly.

“I have to drive Wanda back to Portland.”

“Of course, darling. Wanda, it’s been such a pleasure. I do hope we meet again.”

Melina holds her hand out to Wanda, her eyes glowing, and they shake hands. It’s brief, and not as awkward as Wanda had thought it would be.

Nick appears from… where?

“Mrs. Romanoff?” he asks.

“Thank you, Nick.” He escorts her from the room and through the double doors to the foyer. Taylor was here the whole time? How long has he been here? Where has he been?

The hand around her waist tightens slightly, and Wanda turns to see Natasha’s eyes on her. She looks intense, and Wanda immediately feels nervous.

“So the photographer called?”

Fuck.

“Yes.”

“What did he want?”

“Just to, you know, apologize. For Friday.”

Natasha narrows her eyes. “I see.”

Immediately, Wanda feels as though she’s done something wrong. She stands in anxious silence as the hand around her waist retreats, Natasha walking over to her study and slipping inside, returning a moment later with a few papers in hand.

Something must have shown on Wanda’s face, because the woman's stony expression softens the moment she sees her.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Wanda.”

Natasha is suddenly at her side again, guiding her over to the couches and sitting her down. The papers are set on the coffee table, the woman’s cinnamon scent engulfing her as one of her hands rests gently on her thigh, the other rubbing soothing circles on the back of her neck.

Wanda can’t help but get a little turned on.

“I-” she stammers, “Well the vibe just changed after that phone call. Should I not have answered it?”

Natasha’s eyebrow quirks up at the word vibe, but she takes a breath, collecting her thoughts before speaking. “I apologize, Wanda.”

“No you don’t have to-”

“Do not interrupt me while I am speaking.”

Wanda feels her lower gut pool with warmth. Now is not the time, her brain whispers even as her clit pulses happily. “Sorry,” she murmurs, feeling Natasha’s fingers relax and resume their gentle touches.

“I became upset when the photographer was brought up, and frankly, the idea that he believes he can still call you after everything that’s happened,” Natasha says, her jaw working slightly. “It may have seemed like my frustration was directed at you, and for that, I sincerely apologize.”

Oh.

“God, you speak like such a CEO,” Wanda giggles, the tension in the room dissipating, “Thank you.”

Natasha nods, smiling at her before reaching for the papers. Gently, she slides them onto Wanda’s lap and places her fingers on her chin, forcing eye contact. Wanda’s clit does that funny pulse thing again.

“These are some things I would like you to go home and research. We’ll discuss it next weekend. I want you to know what kind of kink you’re getting in to.“ She pauses, “We’ll talk more about our specific wants and needs once you have a better understanding of the BDSM community and what it entails"

“Like, different toys and stuff?” Wanda asks, her cheeks burning slightly.

Smiling, Natasha chuckles softly. “Yes, but this packet also goes over the basics of respect in a power dynamic, safewords, different ways to provide aftercare for both the Dominant and Submissive, amongst other things.”

Natasha’s expression grows serious.

“Wanda, please don’t hesitate to ask any questions you have, especially if you’re confused by what’s on the internet.”

Internet! She doesn’t have access to a computer, only Kate’s laptop, and she can’t exactly use the school’s computer lab for this sort of research.

“What is it?” Natasha asks, cocking her head to the side.

“I don’t have my own computer. I’ll see if I can use a private brower on Kate’s laptop.”

Smirking, Natasha taps the papers again, before she stands. “I am sure I can… lend you one. Allow me to dress, then I’ll be ready to drive you home.”

“Sure,” Wanda murmurs, watching the woman retreat down the hallway. She glaces at the papers in her lap, her curiosity getting the better of her as she flips to the first page. It’s not that bad, she recognizes a lot of the words from her romance novels, but she can tell that Natasha wants her to take this seriously. Looks like she has a bit of studying to do.

Natasha reemerges, dressed in a black leather jacket and holding a messenger bag. “Ready?” She asks, holding a hand out to Wanda.

Nodding, Wanda stands, gripping the papers in one hand and her phone in the other. She slips it into her pocket, taking Natasha’s surprisingly soft hand in her own as they walk toward the elevator.

The ride down to the garage is quick, and the sheer amount of cars causes Wanda’s eyes to bulge slightly.

“Nice cars,” she murmurs dryly.

Natasha grins. “I know,” she says, her expression suddenly young and carefree. It warms Wanda’s heart, and she smiles like an idiot when Natasha opens the passenger door of a sleek, black sporty car. She slips inside, reverently touching the dark maroon leather seats as Natasha gracefully slips into the driver’s seat.

“So what sort of car is this?”

“It’s an Audi R8 Spyder. It’s a lovely day, we can take the top down. There’s a baseball cap in there. In fact, there should be two.” She points to the glove box. “Also sunglasses if you want them.”

She starts the ignition, and the engine roars to life. Placing her bag in the space behind their seats, Natasha presses a button, and the roof slowly reclines. With the flick of a switch, soft jazz surrounds them. Grinning easily, Natasha eases the car out of the parking space and up the steep ramp.

Then, the bright Seattle May morning hits Wanda’s face. She reaches into the glove box and pulls out two black baseball caps, handing one to Natasha before slipping her ponytail through the loop in the back and pulling the brim down low.

People stare at them as they drive through the streets. For a moment, Wanda thinks it’s because they recognize Natasha, but then the paranoid part of her thinks that everyone is looking at her because they know what she’s been doing in the last twelve hours. Then, she finally realizes that it’s the car.

Natasha glances over, her eyes hidden behind a pair of Ray-Bans. Reaching over, she gently places her hand on Wanda’s thigh, her fingers firm as she squeezes slightly.

“Hungry?”

Not for food.

“Not particularly.”

Natasha’s eyebrow raises. “You must eat, Wanda,” she chides. “I know a great place near Olympia. We’ll stop there.” She squeezes her thigh again, “Let me take care of you.”

Well, Wanda can’t say no to that.

The restaurant is small and intimate, a modern looking wooden cabin the middle of the forest. The décor is rustic with random chairs and tables and wild flowers in little vases.

“I’ve not been here for a while. We don’t get a choice on what we eat, they cook whatever they’ve caught or gathered.” She raises her eyebrows in mock horror, and Wanda can’t help but laugh. The waitress takes their drinks order. She flushes when she sees Natasha, avoiding eye contact with her and hiding under her long blonde bangs.

“Two glasses of the Pinot Grigio,” Natasha says with a voice of authority. Wanda purses her lips.

“What?” Natasha asks, tilting her head.

“I wanted a Dr. Pepper,” Wanda whispers.

Those green eyes narrow slightly, and then she shakes her head, speaking patiently. “The Pinot Grigio here is a decent wine, it will go well with the meal, whatever we get.”

“Whatever we get?”

“Yes.” Natasha smiles, her head cocked slightly, and Wanda can’t help the way her heart thumps at the sight. She can’t help but reflect that glorious smile back at her.

“My mother liked you,” she says dryly.

“Really?”

“Yes, she was always worried I’d be lonely once I came out as a lesbian.”

“Oh.”

“You know, Wanda, it’s been a weekend of firsts for me too,” she says quietly.

“It has?”

“I’ve never slept with anyone, never had sex in my own personal bed, never flown a woman in my helicopter, never introduced a woman to my mother. What are you doing to me?” Her eyes burn, their intensity taking Wanda’s breath away.

The waitress arrives with their glasses of wine, and Wanda immediately takes a quick sip. “I really enjoyed this weekend,” she murmurs.

“Stop biting your lip,” Natasha mutters, her eyes glancing down before she takes a sip of her wine. “So did I,” she adds.

“What’s vanilla sex?” Wanda asks, if anything to distract herself from the intense, burning, quite frankly sexy look Natasha is giving her. The woman laughs.

“Just straightforward sex, Wanda. No toys, no added extras,” She shrugs. “You know… well actually you don’t, but that’s what it means.”

“Oh.” Wanda had thought it was melty chocolate fudge brownie sex they’d had, with a cherry on top. But hey, what does she know?

The waitress brings them soup. They both stare at it rather dubiously.

“Nettle soup,” the waitress informs them, before turning and flouncing back to the kitchen. Wanda doesn’t think she likes being ignored by Natasha. She takes a tentative taste. Fuck, it’s delicious.

Natasha and her look up at each other at the same time with relief. Wanda giggles, and Natasha cocks her head to one side.

“That’s a lovely sound,” she murmurs.

“Why have you never had vanilla sex before?” Wanda asks, intrigued.

Natasha nods slowly.

“Sort of.” Her voice is wary. She frowns for a moment, seemingly engaged in an internal struggle of sorts. Then, she glances up, a decision made. “One of my mother’s friends seduced me when I was fifteen.”

Holy shit that’s young.

“She had very particular tastes. I was her submissive for six years.” She shrugs. “So I know what it involves, Wanda.”

“Oh.” Wanda just stares at her, unable to articulate anything, her mind spinning.

“I didn’t really have the typical introduction to sex.”

Curiosity skinks in.

“So, you never dated anyone in college?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Natasha smiles slightly, her eyes locked onto her soup. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t want to. She was all I wanted, needed really. And besides, she’d have beaten the shit out of me.” Natasha smiles fondly at the memory.

Wanda can’t help but want to know more, as awful as the picture Natasha is painting is.

“So if she was a friend of your mother’s, how old was she?”

Natasha smirks. “Old enough to know better.”

“Do you still see her?”

“Yes.”

A flash of jealousy runs through Wanda. “Do you still…?”

“No.” Natasha shakes her head and smiles slightly at her. “She’s a very good friend.”

“Oh. Does your mother know?”

Natasha gives her a flat stare. “Of course not.”

The waitress returns with venison, but Wanda’s appetite has vanished. What a revelation. Natasha as the submissive?

Wanda takes a large sip of her Pinot Grigio. It’s delicious. She needs time to process this, when she’s on her own, not when she’s distracted by Natasha’s presence. She’s overwhelming in the best way, and that’s not good for a clear head.

She glances up at Natasha, watching her cut into her venison, perfectly happy. This woman, having revealed that she was sexually abused as an adolescent, acting like she didn’t just drop a bombshell in casual conversation.

“Is this what our, um, relationship will be like?” Wanda whispers. “You ordering me around?”

“Sort of,” Natasha says, taking another sip. “It goes much deeper than simple orders, Wanda. Once you’ve done some research you’ll have a better understanding.”

“It’s a big step,” Wanda murmurs, finally taking a bite of her food.

“It is.” Natasha closes her eyes for a moment, before opening them to gaze intensely at her. “Wanda, you have to go with your gut. Do the research, I’m happy to discuss any aspect of this relationship with you. I’ll be in Portland until Friday if you want to talk in person about it before the weekend. Call me if you need to I just… I want to make this work. In fact, I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want this to work.”

Wanda just nods, stunned into silence. They resume eating. The food is delicious, but Wanda can’t focus on it too much at the moment, her mind churning with new information. Natasha waves the waitress down, putting a thick black metal card down without even looking at the receipt.

When they stand, Natasha holds her hand out, interlocking their fingers as they walk back to the car. Public display of affection, that’s new.

The drive is quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Natasha’s hand doesn’t leave Wanda’s thigh, and she idly plays with the soft skin of her fingers.

When she parks in front of Wanda’s apartment, it’s five in the evening. The lights are on, Kate is home. Packing for the summer, no doubt, unless Yelena is still there. Natasha switches off the engine, and Wanda realizes she’s going to have to leave her presence.

“Do you want to come in?”

“No, I have some work to do,” Natasha says, before twisting her fingers with Wanda’s and bringing her hand up to her mouth. She kisses it softly, the gesture so intimate that it makes Wanda’s ears burn.

“Thank you for this weekend, Wanda. It’s truly been the best. Do you want to get dinner on Wednesday?” Her expression is hopeful. “I’ll pick you up from work, from wherever you’d like?”

“Wednesday,” Wanda agrees.

Natasha smiles widely, kissing her hand once more before she opens the door and walks around the car to open Wanda’s for her. Fixing a smile on her face, she clambers out of the car and heads up the path, knowing she has to face Kate and her multitude of questions. She turns, gazing at Natasha as she steels herself.

“Oh… by the way, I’m wearing your underwear.” She gives her a small smile and pulls down the waistband of her pants slightly so she can see. Natasha’s mouth drops open, shocked.

Wanda’s mood shifts immediately, and she smiles as she turns, opening the door and slipping inside.

The last thing she sees before closing the door is Natasha still standing there by the open passenger door, her green eyes intensely watching her.

Fuck, she really does love those eyes.

---

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