maxislvt
What is that phrase about spitting into the wind?
Pluto - 22 - They/He
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MOVE BITCH GET OUT MY FUCKIN WAY IT'S BLACK HISTORY MONTH!!
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not gonna lie, the autism has changed and I'm probably gonna start writing for X-Men soon 🧍🏽
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I can't put into words how uncouth and mildly vile this is
WHEN PPL SAY THEY GET OFF TO MY FICS…. we r literally inextricably bound in ways u will never be with anyone else baby……. it’s just u and me………. i basically am making u come and i don’t even have to touch u… and i don’t even know im doing it…..
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Thinking about mean mommy Wanda…
Mean mommy Wanda who…can be mean, but at the end of the day she turns to putty thanks to you. She’ll be so caring and thoughtful — the type of person to get you a flurry of snacks from the gas station even when you say you don’t want anything yet don’t mean it.
Mean mommy Wanda who…gets easily overwhelmed and frustrated. But then you kneel before her, brushing your forehead against her lap and breathing in calmly, and she can finally come back to Earth. You ground her with your sole presence and make her less mean each day.
Mean mommy Wanda who…knows you struggle sleeping. She doesn’t know if it’s due to nightmares or unrelated issues as you’re too shy to tell her, but that’s okay. Wanda still holds you tightly from behind, her chin perched up against the crook of your neck, and mumbles “it’s okay, my love, mommy’s here to protect you.” You never knew what good sleep was until you met her.
Mean mommy Wanda who…loves giving out punishments not just because she gets a thrill out of controlling you, but also because she knows it makes you feel safe to let all your inhibitions go and simply exist empty-headed. She will tie you up against the bed with a vibrator between your legs when you fail to wash the dishes by the time she came home. You don’t have to think about anything but your mommy scratching your stomach and leaving hickeys across your chest. It’s safe and delicious.
Mean mommy Wanda who…knows you need release and gives it to you. During those times she isn’t as rough as she could be, but still fucks into you with might as she holds you tight. Wanda knows at times you simply need for everything to remain quiet until your brain shuts down as well, so she helps. Usually it ends with your sweaty limbs wrapped up one another’s as your forehead touch oh-so slightly.
Mean mommy Wanda who…has a collection of toys she builds almost every week. The two of you shop together for them and more often than not, Wanda spoils you with extra ones.
Mean mommy Wanda who…surprises you with “just because” presents and flowers. She will bring you a gift basket with Mini Brands — what she knows is your new obsession — candy, snacks, and Legos that you’ll build together. The flowers are always a different type, at times roses with different dyes, because Wanda loves keeping her love for you fresh.
Mean mommy Wanda who…cups your face lovingly before shoving her strap-on deep down your throat. The gargles you let out as you choke in her dick make her smile. She adores pretending to be mean, not letting you breathe before pulling out the toy and slapping your face with it, but it only ever happens when she talks about it beforehand with you. And as wild as she can be during sex, she never fails to ask “what color are you, darling?” ever so often to make sure you’re alright.
Mean mommy Wanda who…feels the most peace when she lets you wash her hair. She’s never allowed anyone to touch her in such intimate ways without becoming anxious. You are the lucky first who struggles often with putting on too much shampoo and nearly gets it in her eyes, but that’s okay. Wanda laughs anyway.
Mean mommy Wanda who…cries the first time you feel comfortable enough calling her mommy. You’re sleepy then, curled up into a ball before her towards the beginning stages of your relationship. Wanda only holds you tight, plants a kiss against your forehead, and says “Goodnight, my sweet love.”
Mean mommy Wanda who…actually isn’t as mean once you start getting to know her — she’s just never been loved right and that’s okay.
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I've been fiending over this idea in general but it's hotter when it's wanda! anyways, hear me out:
sometimes she'll bend you over just to be a tease. when no one's around (or maybe when she knows specific people are looking) she'll push you down over a table until you're bent at just the right angle. most of the time your back is arched, but she's not above pushing your chest down to the surface and causing a scene
Mommy Wanda using her strength on you to manhandle and throw you around.
Thank you for listening to my ted talk.
-🦎
What a fantastic ted talk!! I would love to hear more...
But also yes and you get off on it almost as much as she does. She particularly likes to slam you up against doors and walls, her arms pinning your wrists down while she makes out with you.
She also really likes bending you over things, her strong hands pressing between your shoulder blades until you're in the position she wants you.
Wanda especially likes to hold your thighs and hips down while she's eating you out. You try and squirm away, the pleasure almost too much to handle at times, but Wanda doesn't let you.
Don't even get me started on her muscles.
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Begging subby chubby Natasha to sit on your face.
Warnings- Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, face sitting, oral, subby Nat.
ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ
She’s always declined your offer, your need, to pleasure her that way. But you plead with her for just one chance, just to let you try it.
At first she’s hesitant, holding onto the headboard above you, her muscles tense as she refuses to put any weight on you, forcing you to crane your neck up to taste her.
She tries not to look down, too embarrassed with how spread open she is for you, but can’t deny that the sight of you below her makes her so wet, having glanced down on instinct when feeling you move.
Your tongue makes first contact with her exposed clit and a cute whiny moan falls past her lips. You can tell from the sound alone that she wants more, needs more, if she’s going to cum and she so desperately wants to, after having been worked up and teased for an hour before she even settled over you.
It’s not long before her hips are lightly grinding against your face, her eyes closed and her breathing deep as she moans over and over how good your making her feel.
But still, she keeps her full weight off of you, something you feel the urge to fix and soon. You wait, just a little longer, until she’s so far into her blissed out state you know she won’t even notice you pulling her onto you fully.
And that’s exactly what you do, sliding your tongue from her clit to her hole and pushing inside in one fluid motion, pulling a guttural moan from her.
You pull her down on top of you, your hands wrapped around her thighs to keep her in place as you thrust in and out her with your tongue . “S-shit.” She moans, one hand flying from the headboard to weave itself into your hair, holding your head in place as if you’d dare tare yourself away from between her legs.
You know she’s close when her legs start to shake around your head, her thrusts getting fast and harder. You angle your head to brush your nose against her clit and her walls clench desperately around you. She cums apart above you, her head thrown back, her eyes closed and moans of your names tumbling past her full lips.
It’s only when she’s come down from her high that she registers her position, her body attempting to lift off you immediately and a flurry of apologies coming from her, a panicked look in her eyes as she looks down at you.
You just smile up at her dreamily, the bottom half of your face slick with her arousal and your arms kept firmly around her thighs. She gasps when she meets your eyes, the sight of you covered in her so contently causing the heat in her stomach to reignite.
You kiss the inside of each of her thighs, relishing in the shaky breath she realeases as you do so and mumble “your so beautiful” watching as a blush covers her cheeks and she looks away shyly.
You take the opportunity to yank her back onto your mouth, slipping your tongue back inside her and feeling yourself get even wetter at the noise she unleashes.
The hand in your hair tightens again and through the muffling of her thighs you vaguely register her asking to sit up a bit so she doesn’t hurt you. You just smirk into her and pull her further against your mouth, your hips raising unconsciously as she cries out in pleasure, feeling you deeper inside her.
You know you said you’d only do it the once but fuck it that was too good not to do again and you also know that you are now one hundred present obsessed with having her this way.
ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ
A/n- I’m so tired idk if this makes sense n I’m too lazy to lay it out properly I’ll probably fix it when I wake up, hope ye like it tho
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imagine subby emo wanda genuinely getting off to the idea of you praising her over and over during sex. when she fingers herself, she holds a pillow close and imagines she’s hugging you and imagines that you’re calling her a good girl, telling her she’s doing such a good job taking your fingers, and that she’s such an adorable little slut just ready to come for daddy and make daddy proud. she finds herself whimpering out into the pillow while she’s fingering herself, “im a good girl, daddy, im daddy’s good girl. daddy’s making my little pussy feel so good… im a good girl…”
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MERRY CHRISTMAS TO THOSE THAT CELEBRATE
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summary. | Your neighbour just wants you to feel the same way she does.
prompts. | Natasha Romanoff + neighbours AU + “I’ll always love you, even if you don’t feel that way. But you will." + sex pollen, requested by @americasass81.
pairing. | dark!neighbour!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader.
warnings. | NON/DUBCON, drugging, sex pollen, obsession, delusion, orgasm (f), allusions to fingering, mentions of female masturbation, pet names, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics
Flames lick at your skin as desire burns through you—the kind that you can’t alleviate, no matter what. You’ve tried everything—rubbing your clit, humping a pillow, using the showerhead. The feeling just can’t seem to go away, and you’re left in a haze of desperation and arousal.
There’s a knock at your door, and you curse. You quickly grab a robe and put it on, wincing at the feeling of the soft material on your hard nipples. Your thighs are sticky with your slick, and you hope the smell isn’t too noticeable.
You open it to find your neighbour, Natasha. She’s very kind. She was the only person to introduce herself; you’ve even hung out with her numerous times, bonding over ice cream and horror movies.
The redhead leans on the doorframe, a slight smirk on her face.
“Hey, Nat… Is everything alright?” you question, crossing your arms. Her gaze is intense, burning holes as she looks right into your soul. “Oh, yeah, just peachy. How are you feeling, hon?” she asks, stepping inside. You let her, even though you’re not seeking any company now, unless they’re willing to help with your embarrassing predicament.
“I– I’m okay. Actually, I’m a bit busy right now. Do you mind if we talk later?” you rush out, the tingling in your pussy worsening as Natasha takes a seat on your couch. “Busy? With what? Rubbing one out? That wouldn’t even help, and you know it,” she scoffs, and the blood in your face drains.
“Wh– What?” you say, confused at her words. “Don’t play dumb, honey. This place smells like that cunt, and I know exactly what your issue is,” Natasha bluntly tells you, spreading her legs with a cocksure look on her face.
Despite the dirty thoughts that cloud your mind, you manage to piece together what she’s saying. She gave you some brownies as a little treat—and after you ate them, you started feeling this way.
“What did you do to me?” you ask, incredulous. “Nothing, really. Just gave you a little something to make this part easier,” Natasha explains, and you squeeze your thighs for a bit of friction. Her voice is a bit husky, and her simple presence is tempting.
“Why?” you ask, pressing your back against the door. Your legs are weak. “Because I love you, princess,” she confesses with a huge smile on her face. You scoff at her words, both out of fear and denial. “No, you don’t.”
She smiles and stands up, walking towards you. You don’t even think to make a move, your condition leaving you void of any reasonable thoughts. She towers over you slightly, and when you look up, you can only focus on her pink lips.
“I’ll always love you, even if you don’t feel that way. But you will,” she whispers, grabbing the string to your robe. She pulls it loose, and you’re left naked in front of her. Her warm hands land on your waist, and you surrender yourself to her despite knowing better.
Natasha drags you to the couch and stands over you, dominant hand going straight to your wet pussy. She quickly finds your swollen, achy pearl and marvels at the amount of wetness that leaks out from you.
“My God, you really do need me, don’t you? Poor baby,” she coos, and you whimper at her words and touch. She rubs your clit quickly—lewd, squelching sounds filling the air along with your pathetic moans.
You know you shouldn’t let her touch you like this—especially after her admission—but you can’t help it. It feels too good.
“Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you, honey,” Natasha tells you, and you’re coming before you realize it. You cry out as pleasure takes over, though the desperation remains the same.
“M- More? Please?” you ask sweetly, and her fingers move to your wet hole. “Of course. You’re gonna be begging me to stop soon,” she jokes, but you don’t care.
At this point, you’ll take anything.
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summary. | A mob boss takes what she deems is hers.
prompts. | Natasha Romanoff + mob AU + “I think I like you better when you’re gagged and crying on my dick.” + humiliation, requested by @crokitheloki.
pairing. | dark!mob boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader.
warnings. | NON/DUBCON, smut, mobs, strapping, mentions of gagging, humiliation, degradation, dirty talk, power imbalance, praise, mentions of dacryphilia, overstimulation/multiple rounds, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics
You should’ve known better than to move into the building owned by the Natasha Romanoff—the head of the mob that rules all of this city.
To be fair, you didn’t have much to go off of. You only heard whispers of the redhead and her power, and you never thought you’d catch her eye.
But now, you’re whining underneath her in her bed; you realize she’s known you longer than you realized. And that she’s a dirty liar who claims you haven’t paid rent in the last few months.
“Look at you—so pathetic. What would your friends think if they knew you love getting fucked by a mob boss, hmm?” Natasha spits, dragging her strap-on through your wet folds. She’s already taken you so many times, yet the fight hasn’t left your body.
“Please… Just stop,” you beg, voice small and on the verge of cracking. “You know,” she begins, pushing the tip of her dildo into your pussy. Your back arches and nails dig into Natasha’s skin from the stretch, leaving scars the shape of crescents in their wake.
“I think I like you better when you’re gagged and crying on my dick,” she whispers, bottoming out inside your cunt. Natasha alludes to how, just moments before, she had your panties stuffed in your mouth, and you were sobbing as you begged her to leave you alone. “You’re so much prettier than you already are that way.”
Her words make you whimper as you think about the amount of power she has. She could ruin your life easily—she already has.
Natasha’s plastic cock drives in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot as she expertly fucks you. Your eyes roll back, and you grab the pillow underneath your head. Your tits bounce with the mob boss’ every thrust.
“Yeah, that’s it. I know you love this—you’re such a dirty girl,” she chuckles, reaching down to rub your clit. She picks up the pace as you moan loudly, lewd, squelching sounds filling the extravagant bedroom. “And to think you were fighting me before. Now you’re creaming on my dick.”
You’re shy with embarrassment, knowing just how correct she is. You don’t have it in you to fight her—she’s making you feel too good.
“G– Gonna come,” you manage to get out, feeling that pressure begin to build inside your lower stomach. Natasha looks down and watches as her strap stretches your weeping hole as you coat the plastic with your slick. “I know you are, baby. Go on—let me see you come for me.”
As if on command, the floodgates open. Your back arches off the bed, and you gyrate your hips, meeting her shoves. Your pussy spasms on her dick and your moans are pathetic—just as she said.
“That’s it—what a good little slut.”
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Need (18+)
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader x Wanda Maximoff
Warnings: g!p Natasha Romanoff, g!p Wanda Maximoff, implied influence of sex pollen, PWP, threesome, unprotected sex, blow job
Summary: absolutely zero plot, straight up PWP
Masterlist
You finally let yourself relax for the first time in the past two days, closing your eyes and throwing yourself on the couch.
You hate stealth missions. You are more of an explosion type of girl, coming in with a bang, kicking some ass and leaving as soon as possible, but this - staying hidden, moving in shadows, and sneaking behind people's backs - this is more of a Natasha thing, which is why she is the one in charge.
You sigh, turning your head to look at the redhead. She is bent over some documents, her brows furrowed in deep thought. Wanda appears by her side a moment later, drops of sweat rolling down her temples.
You sit up, and focus on the women in front of you. Hours ago something went wrong when you split up, they came back looking as guilty as ever, reassuring you that everything was alright, and you believed them then. Now you're not so sure.
"Is everything okay?" You ask, pinning them down with your eyes.
Wanda jumps in surprise and moves to stand behind the table, slightly bending over. Your eyes narrow at the sight.
"Everything is alright. You should go to the store, we don't have anything to eat," Natasha says through gritted teeth, not meeting your eyes.
Your mouth opens in shock, eyes straying to Wanda's in search of support, but you find her in a similar state - eyes dark and jaw clenched tight.
"You two go to the store. Maybe some fresh air will help you get your shit together." You huff, choosing to walk away from the women and hole up in your room, but when you pass by Wanda, your hand accidentally grazing hers, she lets out an actual growl, the wood of the table squeaking in her hold. Her eyes burn bright red, her mouth open as she pants heavily.
"What's wrong?" You hurry to her side, cupping her jaw to inspect her face, and her hips thrust forward, her eyes closing as she whines.
"You need to go." Natasha's low voice reaches your ears, making you look at the redhead. "Leave, before it's too late."
You blink and take a step back, concern swirling in your chest. "What is going on? Let me help."
Wanda takes a deep breath, her hands trembling as she reaches for your hand.
"Wanda," Natasha warns, her tone steel-like, but Wanda pays her no mind, her fingers hot on your arm as she pulls you flush against her front, burrowing her nose in the back of your neck and grinding her hips against your backside, her rock hard cock straining in the confines of her pants.
You gasp, unconsciously arching your back to meet her messy humps, her hands curling around your waist, her mouth hot on your neck. "W-wanda."
Natasha walks around the table and you finally see her fully, see the bulge in her pants, see the veins in her tense forearms. "Leave," she croaks, "before we completely lose control."
You let an involuntary whimper, the sound making Natasha pounce on you with animalistic need. Her lips are on yours, enveloping you in their warmth, her hands are rough on your hips, squeezing and tugging you away from the other woman, but Wanda doesn't budge, growling against your neck and holding on to your waist.
Natasha stumbles back, breathless, and closes her eyes tightly, her fists clenched tight. "This is your last chance. If you don't leave now, we'll take it as your permission to do whatever we want to you."
Wanda hums against the slope of your neck, nipping and sucking on the tender skin, her hot tongue soothing the sting. You gulp, head falling back against her shoulder.
"Use me," you whisper, "do whatever you want."
Natasha's eyes flash, and then she's pushing you down to your knees. Your mouth falls open as her pants and underwear slide down her legs. Her fat cock stands proudly against her stomach, precum leaking down the tip. You barely have enough time to wet your lips before she pushes it down your throat, holding your face between her hands and fucking your mouth like her life depends on it. She throws her head back, strands of her fiery red hair framing her face as she loses herself in her desire.
Wanda mewls beside you, and you glance at her, eyes widening when you see her straining cock in her fist. She pumps it fast, her eyes on you, and you reach out, your fingers wrapping around the length. She closes her eyes, her hands settle on your shoulders as you slowly jerk her off, your throat burning from Natasha's cock. She pulls away to let you take a breath, but you don't have enough time for that - Wanda immediately takes her place, shoving herself into your mouth, her balls slapping against your chin.
You blink back tears, trying to relax your throat, but still gagging on her length.
"M'sorry, detka," she murmurs, "you'll have to take it all."
Natasha taps her tip on your cheek, her fingers tangling in your hair. You pull away, finally allowed to breathe properly, and clench your thighs at the sight of their cocks in front of your face, your wetness staining your sleep shorts as you subtly grind on your heel.
Natasha growls, and then you're pulled off the floor and thrown over the spy's shoulder. She carries you to her bedroom with ease, and throws you on the bed. Wanda hurriedly tugs off your clothes, almost ripping your underwear in haste to get you naked. Natasha is on you the second you're laid bare, ready to claim your most vulnerable part. You spread your legs, bending them at your knees, your thighs wet with your arousal. Natasha tugs you closer, and forces you on your hands and knees.
"Better," she husks, the tip of her cock pushing between your folds and into your tight heat, your walls clenching tightly around her shaft. She moans, thrusting balls deep, "Such a good pussy, taking me like a good slut."
You cry out, mouth falling wide open, and see Wanda settle in front of you, her cock still wet with your spit. She takes hold of your jaw and pushes your head down, simultaneously thrusting her cock deep inside your throat. "Fuck, Nat, we should've done this sooner."
They fuck you like you're a common whore, using your holes to their liking, Wanda's balls slapping against your chin, Natasha's palms placed possessively on your ass. You gag on the witch's shaft, tears streaming down your face, but she's too far gone in her pleasure to notice, hips snapping faster with each thrust. Natasha's length spreads your cunt almost painfully, the tip of her thick cock pushing against your cervix with each rough thrust.
Your moans send vibrations through Wanda's length, making the young witch cry out, her abs taut with tension, fingers pulling at your hair harshly. She comes down your throat with a loud moan, making you gag on her cum. You pull away, struggling to swallow the load that leaks all over your face and chest.
Natasha's thrusts become erratic as she gets closer to her own release, her fat cock sloshing in your wetness.
"Tasha- ah, please," you gasp, and she flips you on your back, changing the angle.
"Louder, baby," she pants, snapping her hips faster, her fingers leaving bruises on your hips. "I want everyone to know what a cock slut you are." Her dirty words make your head spin, your walls clenching around her thickness, trying to swallow her in.
Wanda throws one led over your stomach, now hovering over you, and pushes your breasts together before thrusting her cock between them. You eagerly open your mouth, welcoming the reddened tip. She whines and mewls as she plays with your breasts, her thumbs stroking your nipples, ready to come again just from the sight below her.
Your legs are spread wider before they're thrown over Nat's shoulders. She presses her palm against the bulge in your belly, making you scream, "Yes! Ah- Nat… Yes, yes, yes- deeper, I need you deeper."
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she thrusts one last time, releasing a load of cum into your clenching heat. The pressure inside you releases as you're hit by the most powerful orgasm you've ever had. A few seconds later Wanda follows, forcing your jaw open and thrusting the tip of her cock inside. This time you swallow it all.
She falls on the bed beside you, her body glistening with sweat as you both catch your breath. Natasha slowly pulls out, gently massaging your thighs before taking place on your other side.
"We're not done," she whispers against your ear, her palm cupping your pussy. "We're not done until we've used every single one of your holes. And after that we'll go back to the compound, and we'll do it again and again and again."
Wanda nods, grinning wolfishly, and settles over you, her cock on your lower stomach, ready to fulfill Natasha's promise.
You gulp and spread your legs wider, ready to give them everything.
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SEASON’S GREETINGS.
pairing: stepsister!wanda maximoff x fem!reader
warnings: stepcest, dubcon, innocence corruption, manipulation, mommy kink, dry humping, masturbation, spanking, degradation, fingering (r receiving) 18+ minors dni !
wc: 6.7k
gif credit to owner !
visiting your stepsister for the holidays was always... fun.
“Zaya?” The sweet, chirpy sound of your stepsister’s voice from the kitchen made your ears twitch as you surfed through the big list of movies on her watchlist - TV remote pointed to the screen. The nickname sent an all-familiar, warm, fluttery feeling to the pit of your stomach.
Your tongue peeked out from between your lips as you focused on the TV. Due to your silence, Wanda poked her head into the doorway, and her face instantly softened at your concentration. Catching you lost in focus, she cleared her throat, and you tear your eyes from the screen to meet her own.
Wanda was dressed in Christmas pyjamas that matched yours, standing with a spoon in her hand that had a brown coating and radiated stream. “Would you like whipped cream or marshmallows in your hot chocolate, moya lyubov?” Tiny crows feet situated themselves in the corners of her eyes when she smiled — a pearly white one that was enough to make you swoon.
You smiled gratefully at the question. “Both, please?” You asked sheepishly; words elongated into a question, making the older girl giggle softly. Wanda was so sweet to you.
She’d always make an effort to see you over the holidays, begging you to come and visit since she was on winter break, and when you did, she always had plans and activities lined up for the two of you to do. She’d take you Christmas shopping and purchase you practically anything you wanted, or rather, eyed. You never had to ask with Wanda.
You’d go to Christmas fares, and she’d hold your hand while you looked around all the stalls, buying matching shirts to wear later that night and drinking eggnog and hot chocolate. The visits to Wanda’s were domestic. They felt like home to you, Wanda did, granting you that warm fuzzy feeling when she’d flash you a smile or kiss the top of your head.
For as long as you could remember, your stepsister was always there for you. She was there if something was playing on your mind, distracting you with a day out or a trip to your favourite places. If you were having relationship problems, Wanda was there to help you with open arms and rather conniving relationship advice, cupping your face and kissing your cheek, wiping away stray tears that ran down them with her thumbs. As much as it pained Wanda to see you in such a state, she couldn’t help the pang of excitement that shot through her body when you announced that you’d broken up, hiding a grin behind your back when she pulled you close into her chest as you sobbed.
Wanda was a shoulder to cry on — a comforting beacon of trust. You could always remember it that way. In fact, it would be quite abnormal for Wanda not to be overly keen on your relationship status or the way you were feeling. Wanda was a protector, a provider.
She missed you so much when you were gone. She missed being a dependent, a carer to your needs. Albeit she was your stepsister, she took on the parental role in the relationship and was fond of taking on the position of your protector to nurture you dearly.
What you didn’t need to know was what Wanda truly did in your absence. You didn’t know of the way she’d hump your pillows when you weren’t there, rutting against them like a wild animal as she softly moaned out your name through stuttered groans. Or the way her hand would descend her body, sliding across the smooth of her belly and to her aching cunt, rubbing her clit through your underwear fervently. On occasion, she’d even press another pair to her nose - a pair she’d stolen from your drawer, bathing in the sweet scent of you as she came. You remained blissfully unaware that she used to watch you in the shower or where she kept the polaroids of your half-dressed, sleeping body. You didn’t need to know that when she engaged in such mundane activities with you as holding your hand and kissing your cheek, a dull, familiar throb would situate itself between creamy thighs.
Wanda was your favourite.
“Of course.” Wanda granted you a curt nod before turning her back and finishing the drinks in the kitchen.
When you refocused your attention on the screen, a wide smile crept onto your face at the range of Christmas movies that she’d added. The knowledge that she’d devoted so much preparation to your night made your cheeks flush and heat up. Wanda was always thoughtful like that.
You settled for Home Alone, the sound of the brunette’s feet padding carefully into the room capturing your attention. Her eyes were locked onto the screen, and she chuckled at your movie choice. She knew you loved that movie, somehow being the one that ended up playing at each annual Christmas movie marathon the two of you celebrated together.
You gratefully took the drink from your stepsister’s hand, giving her a polite “thank you,” as she carefully placed her own on the coaster of the coffee table so as not to spill it. A soft giggle erupted from your throat at the large pile of whipped cream she’d decorated your drinks with — so much of it that it was almost seeping down the sides.
“Home Alone, huh?” She asked as she plopped down onto the couch beside you, sitting cross-legged as you were, a smirk plastered on her face as she raised a brow. Your gaze found her own, and you could swear by it that home was the comfort of those twinkling green eyes.
A blush found your cheeks, painting them rosy as you smiled sheepishly and looked down to the drink that rested in the small gap between the cross in your legs. “Mhm,” you replied, licking a dollop of whipped cream from the swirl as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I do hope you like it.”
You were grinning now at the shared sarcasm as Wanda made a thinking face, pouting her lips out slightly. She nodded, taking her own drink from the coffee table as she scooped up a few small marshmallows with her tongue. “Excellent taste, bunny.” She hummed, and the compliment made you wriggle happily in your seat.
The two of you sat in silence for a short while after that, only basking in each other's company and watching the movie with pleasant intent. Wanda’s hand rested idly on your thigh, rubbing circles into the skin there as you giggled occasionally at the film.
After ducking your head down to get another mouthful of the sugary drink and tasting both cream and marshmallows, you suddenly made a long, deep ‘mmf’ sound, throwing your head back at the taste. It made Wanda’s muscles twitch and her eyes widen prominently. Her eyes shot to your face, watching as your eyelashes fluttered closed at the sweet, sugary taste of the cream. “This is so good, Wands, thank you!” You exclaimed rather innocently, albeit your stepsister’s thoughts were none of the sort.
Focused so entirely on your drink, you’d missed the way her hand tightened its grip on the handle of her mug, her olive skin turning white as she changed positions to squeeze her thighs together. The throb between her legs at your whiny moan was near unbearable for Wanda, but she remained poised as she leant forward to briefly place her mug back on the coffee table and patted her lap softly. “Come, baby, sit.”
The offer was unanimously accepted as you placed your cup on the table and shuffled towards her, straddling her lap before allowing her to redirect you so that you were facing the television, back pressed to her front with your legs lazily tangled with her own. Wanda sighed softly as she inhaled the sweet scent of your shampoo in your hair, rubbing slow circles into your thigh.
“You are so beautiful, malysh,” Wanda purred into the shell of your ear, the movements of her thumb inching inward on your thigh. Your eyes drew from the screen, and you blinked softly up at her, craning your neck to meet her gaze. You squeaked out a tiny ‘thank you’ in return, your cheeks heating up at the sudden undivided attention. “Like an angel.”
You swallowed down the spit in your throat, unsure of what to say. The pressure of Wanda’s thumb never faltered; in fact, it increased, the pad of it sinking into your skin rather profoundly. “Do you know how beautiful you are, Zaya?” Wanda pressed, kissing your temple softly. Green eyes peered down at you, lit up only by the reflection of the disregarded movie, and only then could you see the love and awe that shone through them. They searched the entirety of your face, top to bottom, careful not to miss even one singular detail.
You squirmed in Wanda’s lap, burying your face in the crook of her neck, and she chuckled at the sight. “Ah-ah. Tell me you know how beautiful you are.” When she pried your face from her neck, gripping your chin gently with a forefinger and a thumb, your cheeks were a deep red, your eyes darting around the room as you tried to avoid her stare.
"I..." you squeezed your eyes shut as you tripped over your words, the thumb between your thighs moving dangerously close to your clothed cunt. Talking was becoming increasingly difficult, especially with Wanda’s hands all over you, one rubbing your burning cheeks and the other your quivering inner thigh. “I know how beautiful I am.” You mumbled, the wide grin dancing on Wanda’s lips at your words, forcing a prideful smile upon your own.
“That’s right,” She hummed, letting go of your chin to grant you the comfort of facing forward, your stepsister’s lips pressing to the back of your head once again. “Every part of you is very pretty, honey.” Wanda’s hand moved the hair from the right side of your neck and brushed it to the other side, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she spoke. “It astonishes me that nobody has taken you sooner.” She leaned down to connect her lips with your neck, teeth grazing the skin, when she grinned at the feeling of your pulse thrumming rapidly beneath her touch.
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?” Your voice was quiet and laced in confusion, and Wanda’s clit throbbed at your innocence.
“Well,” Wanda smiled down sweetly at you and tilted her head to the side. “I’m just surprised that nobody has stuffed your pretty little cunt full of their fingers yet, is all.” You released a long whine at your stepsister’s words, squirming in her lap when the hand between your thighs cupped your pussy. She hummed at the heat that radiated from you and the dull throb she could feel through the thin material of your pyjama pants.
“Wands!” You squealed with a gasp, trying desperately to wriggle from her lap. A firm hand wraps itself around your waist, pulling your back flush against her chest. “What are you… ah!” The pad of Wanda’s middle finger rubbed taut circles around your clit, your hips bucking inadvertently at her touch.
“W-Wan… feels really weird,” you whine, your head tipping back limply to connect with the dip of her collarbone.
Wanda hums.
You were solely a puddle beneath your stepsister. The warmth of her breath against the shell of your ear brought you a great deal of comfort, and the stimulation she was granting your pussy with was euphoric, yes, but a pang of guilt loomed over you, a nervous feeling situating itself in the pit of your stomach. A feeling you felt obliged to voice to your stepsister. Because you knew she’d always understand, Wanda understood everything.
“Wanda…” You began breathily, the name leaving your lips as a whine rather than the statement of surety you so wished it to be. Squeezing your eyes shut, you battled to focus only on your thoughts, taking a deep breath to collect them. “I don’t think we should be doing this…” You spoke quietly — in fact, so quietly that you would’ve assumed she hadn’t heard you if it weren’t for the crane of Wanda’s neck to get a good look at you.
Her eyebrows were stitched together, her eyes widened, and her face was painted with a look of absurdity.
“Oh, you don’t?” Her movements to your clit never ceased, causing a cloud of confusion to fog your brain. She was still touching you, even through your objections or the look on her face. It felt like a trick question. You persevered anyway.
“No,” You shake your head, your body betraying you as your hips uncontrollably bucked, seeking more of her touch, even despite your feeble protests. “It’s wrong.”
Wanda hums again — this time, you can hear the humoured smile that plastered her face in the sound.
“But your pussy’s so hot and sticky, honey! You’re practically soaking through your panties, what could possibly be so wrong about that?” The way your body reacted to your stepsister’s touch was completely out of your control. Your cheeks burned at the shameful realisation that she was right — and that if she happened to slip her hand across the smooth of your belly and between your folds, separating them and thrusting a finger inside, you’d be entirely sodden.
Wanda grinned at the flustered sight of you, revelling in the way she could corrupt your innocence so pliably.
“Aw, baby. I can see how hard you’re trying! It’s okay, just let me do all the big girl thinking.” She coaxed, kissing the shell of your ear. You could feel yourself slipping further into the blanket of haze that fogged your brain with every word she spoke, your clit twitching at the constant stimulation of her fingers as your eyelashes fluttered closed.
You felt your head tip back, breathing short breaths into the skin of Wanda’s neck. Your pulse raced beneath your skin, skin that was so hot it felt as if you were burning up as her fingers dipped below the waistband of your pyjama pants, slowly moving under your panties, fingers inching closer and closer as your lips parted and your hips bucked against her palm and—
The sound of keys jangling and turning the lock on the front door caused your ears to perk up, your eyes widening as you froze.
Wanda’s father was home. Your eyes shot to your stepsister, whose hands slipped quickly from your heat to your hip, squeezing it in warning. She seemed uncannily composed, her appearance entirely flawless compared to your own; tiny beads of sweat gathering at your temples, cheeks flushed and red as your thighs squeezed together tightly.
Wanda greeted him with a warm smile, dissipating his concerns with convincing words of reassurance and excusing your flushed face and slightly trembling frame as a pose to the heat of your fleece pyjamas. You remained silent, your lips sealed shut and tugged into a smile, as you felt like if you had spoken, all that would’ve come out was a whine or a choked-out excuse for a sentence. The dynamic of Wanda doing all of the talking wasn’t abnormal to you anyway; your stepsister usually taking the domineering approach to conversations or decision-making for you, so you only focused on the palm that was rubbing lengthy patterns along your hip.
After a long description of how his night went, ranting about the incompetence of his colleagues and their inability to cooperate with simple tasks, he blew off the steam and kissed her head before saying his goodnights, excusing his absence with tiredness.
Wanda stood shortly after that, only when her father had ascended the stairs and was out of sight, pulling you up with her. You whined at the loss of Wanda’s warmth, the cool winter air hitting you quite abruptly when you were standing, only for Wanda to place a chaste kiss on your forehead and tell you it’s getting too late for such a precious girl like you to be up.
That night, you went to bed with an overbearing ache between your legs, thoughts of Wanda plaguing your mind entirely sinfully, guilt gnawing away at the guts in your stomach of committing such lustful acts with your stepsister, and even more so, at the reoccurring wishes for it to never have ended. You were ashamed to have wanted it, but the touches felt like heaven. Her words were smooth like velvet, clouding your brain with silken desire and unfulfilled wishes.
The next day was abashedly normal.
In fact, it was so normal that it was enough to make you doubt yourself about whether it even happened at all.
Your stepfather was anew, at work, and you’d received a text that morning from Wanda explaining that she was running some errands and that she’d be back around noon.
She’d also instructed you not to misbehave, as if you were merely a small child, one that she felt should be put under the scrutiny of a more mature parental figure.
You kept yourself fairly busy throughout the day, despite not having too much to do, making sure you were all caught up on your assignments and doing chores around the house that were visibly waiting to be completed, such as washing the dishes or putting away silverware. You buried as many crude thoughts of your stepsister beneath the busyness of the housework you were doing, folding one last shirt atop the pile of laundry in your bedroom. Reoccurring images of the previous night spent with your stepsister swirled around your head like wildfire, spreading goosebumps along your skin, and you did as much as you could to keep them at bay.
The sound of the front door being knocked twice broke you from your trance, your ears perking up at the sound. You checked your phone, rereading the message you received from Wanda earlier in the morning. 'Sent: 9:20AM.' It read. The time was now ten — She couldn't be back this early already, could she?
You dashed from your bedroom to the stairs, treading them swiftly in case of Wanda’s presence on the other side, peeking through the small peephole in curiosity. Your heart felt like it had stopped almost entirely at the sight you were met with, nerves shooting through your veins like electricity. Your hand met the handle of the door, swinging it open to be met with a pair of warm, brown eyes and a soft smile.
“Carol?” You scoffed lightly in disbelief, having it been so long since you’d seen the girl, despite your occasional catch-ups over text message from time to time. You certainly hadn’t expected to see her on your - Wanda’s, doorstep.
Carol was one of your old friends, one you’d grown up with when you lived in town, before you moved away with your mother and eventually enrolled in college. You weren’t too far away; your hometown was only around an hour’s drive from your college, albeit you never seemed able to find the time for your old friends, being head to toe in coursework and studying. The two of you had always kept in touch, so when you told her that you’d be visiting Wanda for the holidays, she couldn’t miss the opportunity to see you.
“Hi, Y/N. I thought I’d pop in, since I knew you were in town. I hope you don’t mind,” The blonde rambled, her eyes drifting to the side as she peered into the house behind you. She seemed almost cautious of your stepsister’s presence, wary and hasty. You racked your brain as to why Carol would behave that way. Wanda wasn’t anything to worry about, wasn’t she?
“Is anybody home?” She asked, her voice wavering only slightly. The sound of her voice broke you from your thoughts, shaking your head with honesty.
“No. My stepsister and her dad are out. It’s just me,” You swallowed. The realisation hit you like a truck at the situation you were actually in; Carol was at the doorstep and Wanda wasn’t home. Your stepsister always strictly instructed you never to invite or welcome guests into her home without her permission, the words being ushered from her lips each time she left the house without you making the rule abundantly clear.
You chewed nervously on the skin of your bottom lip as you weighed out your options.
You knew Wanda wouldn’t be happy — livid, at that — but the opportunity seemed to be one you shouldn’t take for granted, and with Carol’s expectant doe-eyes darting expectantly between your own, you felt as if there was only one choice.
Maybe spending some time with Carol - and just Carol - would be good for you, without being under the constant, watchful eyes of your stepsister, you suppose. Plus, the excitement of seeing your old friend was getting the better of you; the images of catching up and drinking warm tea together were sending you into a state of pure joy and anticipation. You took a brief glance at your phone once more, taking a mental note that Wanda would probably be home from the supermarket in around an hour and a half or so. You had plenty of time before she'd come home, and you'd make sure Carol was out of the house by twelve. What's the worst that could happen?
“Come in.” You waved, stepping backwards so that she could enter the house. A large grin broke out from your face as she pulled you into a tight hug, squeezing you as she did so, filling you with reminiscence and warmth.
The two of you spent the remaining hours of the morning catching up, chatting between comfortable silences and small sips of herbal tea. You told Carol all about your experience at college, and she filled you in on the happenings of her own life. You exchanged presents with the pinky promise of refraining from opening them before Christmas day, to which you shared a giggle. You felt like a child again in the presence of your old friend, bringing you a sense of deep fulfilment and platonic affection.
Wrapped up entirely in the company of Carol, you failed to notice the opening and closing of the car door outside of the house, nor the front door’s handle turning until Wanda made herself known, wiping her boots on the welcome mat, hands full of grocery bags. “Zaya!” She bellowed, unassuming. She expected you to be upstairs and to come running any minute now. “Come help with the groceries, please. I picked us up some—” Wanda’s gaze hardened as she looked up from the floor, being greeted with the dreadful sight of you and Carol lounging on the couches of her living room.
“Y/N.” She sneered, raising an eyebrow in amusement, nostrils flaring as she spoke your name with a tone laced in distaste. Her eyes drifted from your now-trembling frame to the blonde opposing you, eyes glazed over with a look you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “Carol,” She repeated. She kept a straight face, solemn and unnerving.
“Wanda.” Carol returned, standing on her feet to gain height over the older woman. You felt pathetic as you felt yourself frozen to the seat beneath you, knees like jelly as your stomach churned at the confrontational and quite disastrous situation you were in. Carol flashed your stepsister a faux, pearly smile, offering a hand to shake Wanda’s own. Carol was never much of a fan of your stepsister. Even when you were growing up, she didn’t like the way that Wanda took control over you or the obscure possessiveness that she held, treating you as if you were one’s own.
“What exactly are you doing in my home?” Wanda scowled, disregarding the hand that was reaching out to her.
You stood, swallowing the thick lump in your throat you hadn’t even known was there. “She—” You began, but Wanda held up a finger in your direction, keeping her eyes locked on the blonde.
“No, please. Carol — enlighten me.”
Carol’s eyes glanced from Wanda’s to yours, blinking a few times before shoving her hands in her pockets and speaking. “I came over. I wanted to see Y/N while she was in town. It’s been years,” Carol’s eyes narrowed, the corners of her lips downturned.
Wanda’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you did?” She chuckled amusingly, sauntering into the kitchen and placing the grocery bags on the counter. She turned around and began to take slow steps towards Carol, her head tilted to the side in fury.
“Here’s the thing, Carol,” She began, “You are not welcome in this house. You never have been, and you never will be.” Wanda’s cruel words made you whine, but your friend remained quiet, stepping backwards each time Wanda took a step forward. She walked Carol until she was out of the open door, standing in the doorway with folded arms and slightly twitching lips.
“I do not wish to see you here again, Carol.” She stated simply, her jaw clenched as her teeth ground together in putrid.
“But—” You attempted once more, but you were again silenced by the sharp bite of your stepsister’s voice.
“Ever.” She practically slammed the door in Carol’s face, the movement so swift and so harsh that you could’ve sworn the door had come off its hinges.
Wanda wasted no time in taking you by the wrist and dragging you into the kitchen, storming into the room before bending you over the kitchen counter in one swift motion, a pressed hand firm to the base of your back, keeping you pinned there. You barely registered what was happening until your pants were being pulled down to your knees, and Wanda was raising a hand, bringing it down harshly to the skin of your ass to spank you. You cried at the action, the stinging pain spreading like fire on your skin and wriggling beneath her hold.
She loomed over you, seething as she spat. “You selfish little girl,” Her palm raised again, delivering a slap to your other asscheek, eyebrows knitted together in pure anger. “I can’t even leave you for a few hours without worrying about you breaking the rules.” You shook beneath her, your face pressed against the cold surface of the counter, as your breath caught consistently in your throat with each hit.
"I didn't mean to! She just came, and- and I—”
“Shut up, slut,” She growled into the shell of your ear, bending over to press your body even further into the countertop. “How dare you even think about disobeying me like you did? Stupid little bitch, didn’t your mommy raise you with any fucking manners?” Wanda’s face was downcast, biting back a cruel smirk at the way you whimpered when the uncomfortable fabric of her jeans rubbed against the raw skin of your ass.
“Please stop,” you choked out, tears already filling your eyes. “H-Hurts.” Wanda hummed. Another slap.
Wanda clicked her tongue, her palm rubbing large circles over the red, throbbing area. “Oh, it hurts?” Her voice was honeyed and low as she purred the words into your ear. She took a fistful of your hair and leant back, pulling you alongside her, tugging until your back arched painfully. She craned your neck so that you were looking at her, a pout masking her face as her eyebrows knitted together in pity. Faux pity.
You still nodded ashamedly, your eyes slipping shut as tears cascaded down your rosy cheeks. Wanda frowned, taking her hand from your ass to slap you across the face, forcing your eyes to open and your hips to buck backwards into her own. “I asked you a question,” She hissed. “Fucking answer it.”
“Uh-huh,” you slurred, mouth hanging agape. It was as if her sickly sweet, sugary-laced voice had turned off a switch in your brain, one captive of any sensical thoughts.
“Uh-huh,” She mocked, the pads of her fingers pressing into your cunt through your panties. She revelled at the feeling of wetness that lay there, enthralled at the ideology that she could arouse you with merely a few touches, no matter what she did. “Such a disgusting bitch,” She eyed your pussy in awe, her eyes twinkling as she grinned. “You’re soaked, baby.”
You mewled at the feeling of Wanda’s fingers tracing your hole through the thin cotton fabric, your hips backing into hers in desperation. You craved the gentle touches of your stepsister’s fingers, reminiscing in the pleasant memory of them being so soothing and relieving, and you began to wonder why you even disobeyed her in the first place.
“Tell me you’re sorry.” She pressed.
“I’m sorry, m’ really sorry, Wands, I am!” You began, pleading with all the desperation you could, only wanting to please Wanda. That’s all you ever wanted to do.
She hummed, and just as fast as she was to plant her touches on you, she quickly retracted her hand, depriving you of any stimulation at all as she took a step back and began to sort through the bags of groceries as if nothing had ever happened. As much as she wanted to take you, she needed you to understand that bad girls deserved to be punished and that your behaviour wasn’t something Wanda would just take lightly. You leant over the counter, which was now slightly damp, with a puddle of your tears as you collected yourself, your heartbeat thrumming as you hiked your pants back up to your waist in embarrassment.
“Go and clean yourself up before your father gets home. I will deal with you later.” She stated, watching with a smile as you stood on shaky legs and attempted to gather yourself before you ascended the stairs and made your way into your room without further resilience.
You spent the rest of the evening in your bedroom, not even coming out for dinner or for a drink. The act did worry your stepsister, even despite the calm tone she carried when your stepfather asked what was wrong, which Wanda dismissed as you feeling a little under the weather. Even despite how livid she was with you. He hadn’t suspected a thing, not the previous night, albeit your flushed face and your trembling body, nor tonight, your absence from the dinner table completely, as the only sound that reverberated the four walls of the kitchen was the scraping of cutlery and usual dinner time talk, which consisted of Wanda’s father telling her how much of a bore his job was and how much he despised his colleagues. He only nodded pitifully at the news and wished you well, hoping you’d ‘feel better tomorrow.’
After dinner, Wanda remained downstairs briefly and helped her father clean the dishes and load them into the dishwasher. She was barely listening to a word he was saying, although it really didn’t matter; the nonsensical droning bored her half to death anyway, the only thing on her mind being you. She couldn’t help but wonder why you hadn’t joined them that night — it was extremely uncharacteristic, even for you, and she decided it was better not to dwell on such things without investigating what was wrong. She shared thanks with her father for the food, and after tossing the dishcloth into the washer, she padded up the stairs indefinitely.
Wanda creeped along the hallway of the house, careful so as not to disturb your peace, or what she thought was your peace. When she reached your bedroom, she peeked through the small crack in the door that you’d appeared to have propped open, the warm glow illuminating the dark hallway, and the sight she was met with caused her breath to hitch in her throat.
Through the dim, warm-toned lamp on your bedside table, she could make out your silhouetted figure: thighs on either side of your stuffed toy, rutting your hips aimlessly onto the soft cotton. You reeked of inexperience as her thighs snapped together, drinking up the sight of your wet pussy that rubbed its wetness into the bear with each miscalculated thrust. Your stepsister made an effort by quietly creeping into the room, shutting your door behind her, and locking it. She smiled down at your flushed face, eyes squeezed shut, as you rocked your body back and forth, in awe. Nothing but adoration filled her twinkling eyes as she wetted the skin of her lips with her tongue, her eyes preying on every single inch of you.
Your head hung low, your fists gripping the soft ply of the bear in a feeble attempt to stabilise yourself as your jaw remained slack. Wanda quickly came to the realisation that you’d been demonstrating these movements for quite some time and hadn’t yet had any luck getting yourself to climax.
“Would you like some help, malysh?” Wanda’s soft voice spoke out, enchanting the room with a euphoric sweetness that turned your mind into mush. You didn’t even react to Wanda’s presence, only whimpering at the knowledge that she was there, humping harder into the stuffed animal.
“Please,” you almost cried, goosebumps running down your spine when you felt Wanda mount the bed behind you, positioning herself flush against you with a sly grin. You could feel Wanda’s hardened, pebbled nipples rub against your back each time you moved, the feeling sending a warm flush to your cheeks.
“Oh, baby.” Wanda cooed, stroking your hair softly with the back of her hand. “It’s okay. I bet last night made you feel real icky, huh? Been needing to let it all out, honey?” She questioned, hands fiddling briefly with the hem of your shirt before she slipped her hands beneath, fingers skimming the soft skin of your stomach, your hips, brushing over your ribs. You nodded pitifully, your lips pouting. Your pussy was dripping onto the soft fabric of the teddy bear; Wanda could see that, and it took everything for her not to take you all at once and completely rip you apart. Take you so beautifully and devour you so that she was the only person who knew how to stitch you back together again.
She cupped your breasts in her palms, humming pleasantly at the absence of your bra. She brushed the pads of her fingers over your hardened buds, forcing your hips to jolt against the stuffie. She towered over you, leaving you feeling entirely consumed, caged in by Wanda. The sweet, vanilla scent that coated her neck mixed with the stench of sex, filling your nostrils intoxicatingly.
“W-Wan…” you mumble through soft pants, moaning out when you felt a pair of thumbs and forefingers pinch your nipples, rolling them with expertise. She continued this from the bottom of your nipples to the very tips, your chest arching into the soft skin of her palms.
“Ah-ah.” She tutted, kissing your shoulder softly. “Mommy,” she corrected you, and you found yourself whimpering at the honorific.
“Mommy, please…” you immediately comply, biting your lip to refrain yourself from moaning, even at the way it sounded coming from your mouth. “Feels so achy, it hurts,” You sob, your pussy dripping and raw due to the constant stimulation you’d been delivering to it.
She hummed, eyebrows knitting together as she looked down at you condescendingly. Although you couldn’t see her, you felt the holes she was burning into the back of your head.
“I know, bunny. Mommy knows.” She lulled gently, giving your nipples a final tug before releasing them from her grip, her hands travelling across your chest and descending your abdomen, making sure not to leave a single inch of you untouched. Firm hands held your hips, pushing them down so that your cunt was flush against the stuffed animal. You moaned out feebly, your muscles loosening as you allowed yourself to be taken under the guidance of Wanda’s hands.
Your breaths were shaky as your head lolled back into Wanda’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut when she began to move your hips forward and back, forward and back, your clit rubbing deliciously with every movement she instructed. “Oh! feel s’good, mommy,” you sigh, your hands slowly releasing the grip on the toy. A smirk pulled at the corners of her lips at your words, chuckling into your skin.
“Hm… Mommy really does miss you so much when you’re gone, moya lyubov.” Wanda nodded, the tip of her nose brushing against your neck as she rested her chin on your shoulder. “I touch myself most nights thinking of you,” She smiled, her pink lips slightly muffled, as she continued her sinful confession. “Sometimes, Mommy even comes in here and rubs her pussy all over your cute little stuffies." Her voice held a sincerity — almost purity — when she spoke, sending a rather strange feeling to the pit of your stomach at the knowledge of Wanda’s perverse acts, though any sensical thoughts were swiftly knocked from your brain when two pads of Wanda’s fingers reached forward, rounding your hip to rub tight circles around your throbbing clit.
“But you don’t mind, do you, bunny? It makes mommy feel really good, all warm and tingly inside.” All you could do was switch between nods and fervent shakes of your head, helplessly moaning out as Wanda took you how she pleased — how she’d fantasised for so long.
A dull throb formed between Wanda’s own thighs at her confession, although you barely listened. Ridden so deeply in pleasure, your hole clenched and your clit twitched perfectly each time she moved her fingers, and your teeth sunk so deeply into your bottom lip that you felt as if you were drawing blood.
“Mommy…” you slurred, your brain struggling to catch up with the pace of Wanda’s movements when two svelte fingers were carelessly shoved between your puffy lips and into your hole. Your hand darted to her wrist, gripping it as your cunt squeezed her fingers. “Ah— no, mommy, s’too much!”
Your words fell on deaf ears as she sped up, spreading her fingers apart inside of you so that you could hear the lewd sound of squelching. A large, tight pressure built itself up in the pit of your stomach, your body betraying you when you rocked against the knuckles of Wanda’s fingers.
“Too much, can’t— feels so weird, oh, mommy, m’ feeling really weird!” A flurry of barely coherent words left your parted lips, albeit Wanda seemed to understand every one, curling her fingers deliciously inside you, a loud, lengthy cry leaving your lips when she did so. The knot in your stomach tightened, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you panted, falling completely apart in the trusty arms of your stepsister.
“Come on my fingers, bitch,” She spoke through gritted teeth, an amused grin plastering her face. “Make mommy proud, be my good little girl, I know you can do it.” And with that, your walls clenched, squeezing and milking her fingers, clit twitching as you came. Wanda shushed your tiny cries and mewls as she helped you come down, slowing her thrusts as she held you close, your back flush against her front. She kissed your temple, wrapping an arm around the length of your own as your slightly damp hair spilled all over her shoulder. The only sound to be heard were your sticky parts as she pulled her fingers out and the soft pants of your breathing.
Wanda breathed deeply, inhaling the heavenly scent of your shampoo, before speaking again through chaste kisses. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did earlier, zaya. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was just upset.” She swallowed, eyebrows twitching when she continued, “You know I would never hurt you, don’t you, baby?”
You nodded lazily, your eyes beginning to submit to the sleepiness of Wanda’s familiar scent and the dimly-lit lighting of your bedroom. “I know, Wands.” You smiled, squirming so as you were even closer to her, frowning in slight frustration at the inability to actually merge into Wanda and become one. Somehow, even skin to skin, you didn’t feel close enough.
Wanda hummed, massaging your scalp softly. “Good.” There was a pause — a few beats of silence, before she blinked, and then spoke. “I love you, malysh.”
Your vision began to fade; your eyes physically unable to remain open as you sighed. “I love you, Wanda.” You giggled softly, “So much.”
And when your eyes finally shut — your mind, body, and soul entirely consumed by Wanda, basking in what was the epitome of heaven — you knew that home wasn’t anything of a place, but the verdant eyes that watched you, swirling in awe at the peace of your slumber that you succumbed to.
You’d never love anyone more.
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wanda degrading you while you eat her out >>>
"you must really like the sound of my voice, huh?"
"you're making mommy feel really good, darling. keep going, make me cum like the little toy that you are."
"do you want me to moan for you? i can tell that you're getting tired, would that re-energize you? maybe i'll pet your hair if you do a better job."
the whole time she's having to hold herself back from coming, edging herself over and over again just to keep degrading you. you're doing such a good job, enthusiastic and skilled, just the way she likes you.
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Rockin' Around
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 603
Warnings: Mean Wanda-ish, Strap-Ons, Power Bottom!Wanda Maximoff, Service Top!Reader, Mommy Kink, Bondage | 18+ Minors DNI
Summary: In which you and Wanda share a passionate moment on Christmas Eve.
“You and I both know that wriggling around like that won’t get you very far, darling. Now be a good girl for mommy and stay still.”
The sound of her voice made you internally scowl, but your features remained stoic as you looked up at the woman. She had you sprawled over the bed, her body domineering itself to cover your own – both in a similar state of nudity. Only your skin had swirls of white and red satin fabric ribbon draped over it, holding your wrists hostage against the headboard while your partner climbed atop.
“I thought you were a nice girl, Y/N,” Wanda’s dripped into your ears with its deep, sultry goodness. “Or have you been naughty this year, honey?”
Your limbs quivered as Wanda grabbed onto the candy-cane-colored dildo that hung between your legs. It had been your idea to wear it while your wife took control, and the woman was far too excited for the idea to put it in denial. She quite enjoyed staring down at your heaving chest as you attempted to avert your gaze out of pure sexual humiliation, only for her to catch it with her piercing viridescent eyes. Wanda knew how to turn you to putty with a single gaze, both of you knew.
“Such a pretty girl for mommy,” Wanda hummed. She’d previously rubbed enough lube on the toy, her dominant hand glistening with the liquid that helped ease her down on you. Gasps atop moans buffeted your face as you were left laying back in disbelief, watching in awe as the dildo disappeared between her puffy pussy lips. “So big for me too, huh? Filling mommy up with your little cock. Looks like someone deserves to be spoiled with presents.”
“Uh-huh,” was all you could muster out in response. At that point the last thing on your mind was the fact that Christmas was tomorrow. Your mind couldn’t think about all the preparation in the form of wrapping Wanda’s gifts that you needed to do. Instead, it was left blank so the sight of the redhead fucking herself on the faux cock could be seared into your brain. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Wan- mommy.” You knew to correct yourself before Wanda forced herself off you as a means to punish you for your slip-up. “Santa went all out this year.”
“Anything for my sweet baby.” Wanda’s hands were hot as they laid grasping at your breasts with might each time the tip of the toy pressed against the depths of her cunt. “Mommy knows how hard you’ve worked this year. She knows that her girl has been the nicest of them all. And for that, you deserve to be smothered with all the presents your heart desires. Isn’t that right, baby?”
“Yes, mommy,” you whined. Although you couldn’t physically feel the warmth of her velvety walls gripping your cock, you sure as hell enjoyed the sight of it at least. It was mesmerizing how Wanda bounced up and down the toy, her head thrown back – the Santa hat she wore nearly falling at times – while you sat there and took it all. Her breasts jiggled, nipples hardening with the cool breeze that attacked them. “I want everything.”
“I know.” The redhead leaned in as a means to pepper kisses across your jawline, at times leaving some on your bruised lips, her tongue sticking between them, before moving down your body. “I’ll give you everything you want,” Wanda swore. Her cunt ached as she neared her orgasm, but never did she stop roughly fucking herself with the toy. “It’s all yours, my love.”
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watching mommy wanda doing the dishes after you'd made her a wonderful meal for one of your date nights, blowing out the candles but bringing them with you and holding them in one hand while the other snakes around her waist and hips, pulling her tightly against you, whispering in her ear,
"you look so beautiful tonight, so perfect in this dress."
she'd turn around and catch a glimpse of the candles in your hand. you'd purposefully drip wax onto her chest as she arches her back, eyes darkening as you take in the sight.
"now, i want to see you naked and covered in red wax, darling. can you do that for me?"
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