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sytoran · 8 months

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𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 | barbie!wanda

Having been a Barbie her whole life, Wanda hasn’t got a clue about how her newly-human body works. Thankfully, you happen to be the best gynecologist in town.

pairing: innocent!barbie!wanda x fem!gynecologist!reader

word count: 2054

warnings: smut (18+), not exactly a dark fic - surprisingly consensual given the circumstances, just barbie!wanda exploring her identity and being corruptibly cute

Wanda didn’t quite know what to expect when she stepped foot into the gynecology centre. It’s to learn more about your body, Natasha had said, urging her to go. The doctors there will help you.

She hopes her doctor is nice.

“Name?”

“Wanda Barbara Maximoff.”

“Your queue number is 476. Please proceed to Room B when your number is shown on the screen.”

“Okay.”

The metal handle of the door is cold.

That’s the first thing Wanda registers when her right hand meets the shiny surface. It’s a contrast to the warm blood that flows within her body, thrumming in her veins and sliding under the surface of her supple skin.

Temperature. Texture. Telltale emotions.

It’s a whole new world, really, with a human body. Wanda certainly isn’t used to existing within one that isn’t Barbie-like.

She can’t jump out a window and fly two floors down without breaking any bones. (You don’t want to know the story behind that.)

She can’t walk out of the house in full-body neon pink, either. (That one can be achieved with a severe lack of others’ opinion, but Wanda gets this human thing they call ‘anxiety’.)

Change.

That’s what it’s called, experiencing new things, and that’s what this is about.

Wanda pushes down the door handle. She can do this.

“First time?”

“Uhm, yes.”

The doctor’s back is facing Wanda, going clickety-clackety on the computer that actually works and is not made of plastic. It’s a female gynecologist, just like she requested. (Wanda loves women! She’s all for strong and independent women.)

Wanda probably staring at the back of the doctor’s head a little too hard, but then the doctor swivels in her chair, finally turning to face Wanda, and turns out Wanda actually can’t do this anymore.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Y/N, and I’m your gynecologist.”

(This Barbie is going through gay panic, except she doesn’t know it.)

Of all the things that could possibly happen to her, of course Wanda's gynecologist is the most attractive person she’s ever laid her eyes on.

This was not how this was supposed to go. Wanda’s brain is short-circuiting, and she has this new feeling coursing through her body that causes her heart rate to speed up exponentially. It’s new. And different. And oddly nice.

“Wanda? You alright, sweetheart?”

The blonde snaps out of it with a flushed face, snapping her jaw shut. Sweetheart? Vision – a Ken – had tried calling her that once. She didn’t like it.

Sweetheart.

Wanda decides that she likes the way you say it.

“Yep. I’m right here. Sorry.”

You get this side smile on your face for a moment, something flickering in your eyes as you stare at Wanda, and it causes the biggest shiver to run down her spine.

Wanda’s heart is palpitating uncontrollably. If anyone heard it right now she’d probably die of embarrassment.

You pull out a stethoscope.

F***. (She learnt that word from Tony.)

Wanda’s skin burns under your touch, as you place the medical instrument over her chest, listening keenly to her heartbeat.

The blonde thinks she’s going to pass out, with the way you move your rolling chair over so close your legs could touch hers.

“It’s quite fast,” you murmur, your voice taking on a lower tone, and Wanda has to physically swallow before her heart breaks through the constraints of her ribcage.

“O-oh,” Wanda responds breathily, a lot higher-pitch than she had anticipated, and she swears your eyes darken just a tad bit. (She doesn’t know what that implies. But it’s kind of hot.)

“Turn around,” you continue, moving back slightly to give your patient space. Wanda releases the breath she was holding and steals all the air she can, but when your hands slide up and under the back of her shirt, all that air is lost again.

It takes every cell of Wanda’s existence not to let out a whimper when you apply pressure on the stethoscope, right above the clasp of her bra.

That new feeling has been amplified by a thousandfold, travelling from your touch to her skin to her heart and right between her legs.

(This Barbie is experiencing lust.)

“Alright, I’ve been informed that you’re a rather special case, Wanda,” you comment, not unkindly. “You don’t have any past medical records. So today I just want to check that everything is in good condition. We’ll do a quick pelvic exam to test your sexual and reproductive health, is that alright with you?”

Wanda doesn’t know what a pelvic test is. But she’d do anything you told her to, honestly, so she just nods.

“Okay, so you need to strip and lay down on the bed for me.”

“...Huh?”

(This Barbie is thinking dirty thoughts.)

Wanda is clothed in a blue surgical gown. She doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed for that.

All she knows is that the material is scratchy against her chest (or more specifically, her nipples are all tingly — she’s not quite sure what that means yet, but it feels strangely good), and that your gloved hands are spreading her thighs open on the operating bed.

Her feet meet the stirrup supports at the end of the bed, knees falling open, and the way you move your rolling chair between her legs in a swift motion has Wanda questioning how she ever entertained the idea of liking Kens.

Your hands run down the expanse of her thighs — probably a little longer than you should have, not that Wanda’s complaining — and your gaze locks on the pinkish bareness of Wanda’s pussy.

The reaction is instinctive, non-commital, subconscious. “Uhm,” Wanda whines, trying to close her thighs. She squirms under your inspective gaze, biting into her lip and trying to shift away from the grip of your gloved hands.

She’s so bare, so open, so vulnerable. But that’s not what scares her. It’s the fact that she doesn’t mind, not around you.

You seem to catch wind of this, and don’t release your grip on her thighs.

Wanda stares at you with her heart hammering in her chest. Wide-eyed and flushed. The pulse grows from her chest to between her legs and that’s never happened before.

“Sweetheart,” you murmur, very softly, and Wanda melts like putty in your arms.

Her knees fall open again.

The rest of the examination goes somewhat smoothly.

Save for the embarrassing little squeaks Wanda makes when you peer a little too closely at her cunt, it’s not too bad.

She knows you’re discerning possible signs of swelling and soreness or something along those medical lines Wanda is hardly an expert in, but what’s more concerning is the warm liquid pooling in her lower belly.

Wanda’s never felt like this before, especially not as a Barbie, especially not this vividly.

When that warmth spreads to the tip of her folds, threatening to emerge on its surface, Wanda’s breath catches in her throat. She doesn’t know what it means that she’s going to be wet.

“All done,” you comment, leaning back, and Wanda’s legs snap shut just as her pussy grows damp, for the first time.

Crisis averted.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you say, almost sadistically, watching her reaction with an amused look. “That’s just the external visual exam. The second part of the pelvic exam is where I get down to the real stuff, yeah? I’m going to have to put my fingers inside you.”

(This Barbie is dangerously close to passing out from skyrocketing levels of libido.)

“I normally use lubricant on my gloved fingers for my patients, but I have a feeling you won’t need it,” you comment dryly, casually tugging off your surgical gloves and tossing them into the trashcan.

Wanda is too embarrassed to respond. Her face is flushed, her nipples are extra tingly, and her pussy is thoroughly soaked at this point.

And you’re just there, sitting between her legs with your hands on her thighs, a very badly hidden smirk on your face.

She kind of wants to slap your dirty mouth. Or maybe kiss it.

“This is a speculum,” you announce, pulling out a metal-hinged tool. “And I’m going to use it to keep your pretty pussy open. Make sure you don’t close up on me again.”

Wanda squeals at your choice of words, slapping your arm in embarrassment. At this point, there’s hardly a need for professionalism, but she’s still not used to the whole thing.

You let a laugh slip from your lips, thoroughly enjoying yourself as you put the medical instrument in place. Wanda’s so pretty, so innocent.

A more sensual look takes over your features when you’re greeted with the sight of her glistening cunt again. Precious.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

“Oh!” The high-pitched noise Wanda makes when two of your fingers push inside her pussy is downright filthy.

The sensations of your warm fingers bounce all around Wanda’s body and the room. It’s only your fingertips, and you’ve barely moved at all, but Wanda’s slick is dripping and she’s already stimulated like she’s never been before.

“More,” Wanda whines, bringing her hips up, urging you to continue. You press her down by the lower belly, your warm spreading out over her skin.

“This is an examination,” you state, no room for question. Your eyes narrow, and Wanda gulps. “We’re doing it how I like it.”

The blonde looks up at you with those doe-green eyes, pouting adorably, before nodding obediently. She’s been so busy ruling Barbieland that relinquishing all that power for once might certainly be pleasant.

You continue to slowly slide your two fingers in her cunt, and Wanda lets out a whimper. Her body moves with your touch like you’re her puppeteer, but maybe she needs it because this feeling is so, so new.

“Feels s’good,” she gasps, and you want to chastise her because it technically isn’t supposed to feel good, but you see the dizzied look on Wanda’s pretty little face and you relent.

It definitely isn’t the first time you’ve had your fingers in a woman, so your practiced fingers curl with expert ease to find her sweet spot. “Oh!” Wanda moans, louder, lithe body arching on the operation bed.

“Shit,” you swear, fingers curling again so you can see that exact reaction. You start to move, faster, harbouring this carnal desire to make Wanda scream and beg.

She’s so innocent, so corruptible, so easy.

Sooner than later, you’re bent over Wanda’s body on the bed, wrist hammering in and out of her sweet pussy, finding all the spots that make her weak.

“Pretty girl,” you pant, biting hickeys into collarbone and her breasts. Her blonde locks are splayed out on the pillow, body shaking with each thrust, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, and it’s the most breathtaking sight you’ve ever chanced upon.

You memorise every stroke that makes her arch, every spot that makes her whine — perks of being a gynecologist, you supposed — you find your way around her body like it’s child’s play, and all too soon Wanda’s nearing a hypothetical edge.

“I think- I think I’mna pee,” Wanda cries, clawing at your wrist because the feeling is too much. She can hardly think, at the sheer pace and ferocity of which you were taking her cunt.

“Ever heard of a clitoris?” you question breathlessly, still pummeling your wrist into her soaked pussy. Wanda’s dripping, actually dripping. If she thought she was wet before, she was now soaking the sheets.

“Wh-what?” she responds, equally as breathless. Her mind was all fuzzy, barely registering your question.

“It’s this,” you add, bringing your thumb to harshly press against her swollen and puffy clit.

Wanda screams.

(This Barbie reaches another plane of existence with fantastical pleasure.)

It turns out Wanda is a ‘squirter’. She doesn’t know what the implications of that are.

“Do I need to come back next week?” Wanda asks innocently, knowing full well gynecologist visits only needed to be scheduled once a year. She’s perched on the edge of the bed, back in her clothes.

“Definitely,” you respond, scanning over the test results calmly, like you hadn’t just made Wanda squirt twice in less than thirty minutes.

“Doctor’s orders?” Wanda asks playfully, purposefully batting her lashes when you look up from your computer.

You don’t bother hiding the chuckle that leaves your lips at her antics. “Yeah, doctor’s orders.”

a/n: you do not want to know how many health sites i visited to learn about pelvic exams and gynecology. | main m.list

#marvel smut #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader smut #barbie #the barbie movie #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #bottom wanda maximoff #sub wanda maximoff #top reader #dom reader #x reader #wlw smut #gxg smut #barbie 2023

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maxiroff · 2 months

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Truth or dare ~Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Truth and dare leads to unexpected questions and unexpected answers. You show Wanda what true pleasure is really like.

Paring: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Words: 3711

Warnings: Smut, fingering

Note: English is not my first language and I have not proofread this so there may be some errors.

Once the party started to die down you, Natasha, Wanda and Carol decided to move up to your shared floor. You and Natasha were spread out on the sofa while Wanda and Carol sat in the armchairs in front of you. Both empty and full beer bottles filled the table in between you. While Starks parties more often than not doesn't have a reason, this one actually did. It was to celebrate that Carol was back on earth and that Wanda finally became an official member of the team.

The drinks had started to get to you all and you wanted to keep the party going between you after everyone left. That's how you started playing truth or dare but with a twist. You could not say no. “Truth or dare Y/N?” said Carol while taking a sip of her drink. “Truth” the grin on her face told you that it was exactly the answer she wanted. “What is the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you during sex.” The moment she said those words Natasha started laughing her ass off.

“Why are you laughing Nat?” said Wanda with a confused look. “Well lets just say I was there.” “You were?” Wanda said, questioning. You decided to butt in before Natasha could exaggerate the story. “Okay here's what happens. I happened to have ehh, a friends with benefits with one of the recruits we were training, Lucy. We happened to have the gym to ourselves and we took advantage of that. I was standing up and had her sitting on my shoulders, leaning her against the wall while I was fingering her and eating her out. Right as she was about to go over the edge Natasha walked through the door. Of course we didn't notice because Lucy's moaning was so loud so Nat witnessed the whole thing.”

“Damn, was it hot?” Of course it would be Carol who asked such a question. “Carol, you can't ask that.” Wanda said. “Yeah, Yeah it doesn't matter.” she responded. “Okay since you asked me, it's my turn now.” Considering Wanda had never been asked before, and you simply wanted to know, you decided to ask her. “Wanda” her name being said got her attention and she turned to you. “Yes” “Truth or dare?” “Truth” she said with a slight hesitation.

“I know you and Vision were together before, how many orgasms did he give you in one session?” Her cheek immediately reddened at the question and she suddenly thought the floor was very interesting. “He um-” she cleared her throat “He didn't really give me any.” Her body language showed that she was either embarrassed or nervous, her eyebrows were furrowed and she was plucking at her nailbands while she told us the answer.

Her answer didn't make any sense though. They had gotten together shortly after they both joined the team and they only broke up a few months ago. The time they had been together was torture. Remembering all the times they sat snuggled up together on the sofa, giggling and disturbing the team's movie nights. The jealousy had burned through you. You could treat her so much better than he did, he’s a robot bor fucks sake. You had never felt such relief as you did the day you found out they broke up.

“I’m sorry but you're gonna have to make that make sense to us. You were together for like six months, you have to have done something during that time.” While this seemed like normal talk between you, Natasha and Carol, Wanda had never felt more uncomfortable in her life. She was a shy person and would rather keep her romantic life privat. But with all eyes on her she almost felt obliged to answer your question.

“Well he always, you know, finished quite fast and I didnt want him to feel bad about not being able to satisfy me so I just faked it.” Her answer did not surprise you. Once again hes a fucking robot, he probably had a vibranium dick that was smaller than my finger. Could he even feel pleasure and cum like a real person if he is made out of metal.

“What, so he just believed you all that time and you had to finish yourself off.” Natasha’s voice sounded judging, seeing the look on her face she probably was judging her.

Wanda could feel her cheeks redden even more when she thought of the times where she was left unsatisfied by both Vision and her inexperienced hands. To be right at the edge but not able to get over it, to never experience real pleasure. Of course it was embarrassing to admit out loud, especially to you who she admired and liked in a not so friendly way.

She already felt embarrassed enough but the alcohol made her spill her secrets away. With her arms tightly wrapped around her legs the words flew out quietly. “Um no I never really knew what to do so I never got myself there.” She made the mistake of looking up and seeing the shocked look upon all your faces. She never thought she would feel this bad about being inexperienced.

When you saw how uncomfortable she was at the topic you decided to end her misery. “Okej, we are moving on. Wanda your turn.” “Okej Natasha, truth or dare”

With Nat knowing Wanda would choose something vanilla she decided that dare was a safe bet. “Okej, I dare you to sit in Carol’s lap for the rest of the game.” Maybe she’s not that vanilla after all.

Neither Nat nor Carol complained as Natasha happily made herself comfortable in Carol's lap, wiggling her ass as she sat down. “Now it's finally my turn.” She said as she looked mischievously between you and Wanda. Natasha knew of your longtime crush on Wanda and had been waiting for an opportunity to play matchmaker, she was not about to let it go to waste. “Y/N, truth or dare”

“Dare” You said as you lifted your drink to your lips, what's life without a little excitement. Unfortunately you knew you made the wrong choice as Natashas smirk grew a hundred times bigger. “I dare you to give Wanda her first ever orgasm.”

Wanda's eyes almost popped out of her head in surprise, while you choked on your drink. “I’m sorry WHAT!” Telling Nat about your crush was obviously a mistake and if looks could kill she wouldn’t even be 6ft under ground, she would be a 100ft. “You heard me” This fucking bitch. She was enjoying everything that was happening.

Wanda however did not. She was panicking and didn't know what to feel about the situation. This may have not been a big deal for you but it was for her. She wanted to be with you in every type of way, but not because of a dare. She wanted you to be her “first” and this however, may be the only chance she would get. In the spur of the moment that was enough. Even though she was terrified, her mind was made up.

“Okej” Hearing her agree to do this may have surprised you even more than Natasha asking the question. “What, are you really sure about this Wands?” She didn't know if the surprised look on your face was a good or bad sign and doubt began filling her mind. But then again, her mind was made up. “Yes, I am.”

“Okay then” You stood up from your seat and made your way towards Wanda and held out your hand towards her. She followed through and put her hand in yours and stood up making the space between you only a few inches. Looking at her face you could see her face held a determined look, but her eyes showed something else. She was nervous.

In an attempt to ease her nerves you softly squeeze her hand. The gesture brought warmth to Wanda making her release a shuddering breath and her shoulders lowering in relaxation. “Can we go to my room”

“Yes, of course” You said as you led her hand in hand towards her room. Being that it was only a few doors down it didn't take too long. You let her hand go as you opened the door letting her walk in first. When you followed you closed the door behind you, making sure to lock it.

Turning around you saw Wanda standing in the middle of the room, picking on her nails and cuticles, a clear sign she felt unsure of what was happening. Wanting to stop her from picking her skin you slowly took each hand in your own, bringing her attention back to you once again. “I want to know that if anything we do is making you uncomfortable and you want to stop or slow down, for any reason, just tell me and we will.” You slowly bring her in your arms and hold her tight, her smaller frame being embraced by your own. “I always want you to feel safe with me.”

The feeling of you being wrapped around her and your warm breath on her neck when you whispered in her ear brought a warm feeling in her stomach. She didn't know where the courage to place one hand on your neck and the other on your hip came from. Nor where it came from when she softly pressed her lips behind your ear. “I already do.”

Her surprisingly bold actions were easily turning you on. The feeling of her soft, plump lips on your neck made your hands move lower bringing her hips to your own. Holding her tightly you slipped your thigh between her legs and made her grind down.

Her skirt rode up at the motion and you heard her gasp as she felt the pleasure strike through her. While you kept up the movement you kissed her neck in various places searching for her most sensitive spots. Beginning with slow open-mouth kisses pressed gently to her skin, making her feel all the right sensations before sucking lightly. And when you felt it to be the right time you carefully bit her skin.

It took Wanda by surprise and with the combined pressure from your thigh between her legs she couldn't hold back the moan that slipped from her throat. She hid her head in your neck as her hands gripped onto you hard trying to steady herself.

Hearing her moan made you crave for more. Crave to have her under you, tasting her on your tongue and feel how wet she was. Hearing her moan and whine as she squirms and writhes in pleasure. Hear her scream when her walls squeeze your fingers when she cums.

Wanting to make your imaginations real you slowly push her backwards to her bed, making her lay down as you reach the edge. You slowly come on top of her till you come face to face with her looking deep into her eyes. While you kept eye contact, your hands found their way to the hem of her shirt and slowly crept up inside it. Her breath became heavier when she felt your hand make contact with her bare skin.

“Is it okay if I take this off?” You asked as you went from stroking the skin of her stomach to gripping the shirt. She answered by nodding her head. “That's not good enough Wanda, I need a verbal answer.” You said in a stern tone.

“Yes, it's okay if you take it off.” With that you slowly lifted the shirt above her head revealing more and more of her skin. When it was fully off you noticed that she had opted to not wear a bra. Her light brown nipples hardened from the change in temperature and you couldn't resist from cupping her breasts in your hands.

You looked deep in her eyes as you spoke softly “ Your beautiful Wanda.” Your words made her heart flutter as a blush spread upon her cheeks. Wanda had never felt so cherished before. The way you looked and spoke to her made her understand that you meant what you said, it wasn't something you said just because.

Being too shy to reply verbally she slowly connected her lips to your as a show of her appreciation. As your lips danced together she felt your hands starting to move, massaging her breasts and nipple. You mixed between softly stroking and lightly pinching her hardened buds. She whimpered into your mouth and she felt her arousal drip into her panties, slowly creating a dark spot.

As you had slipped your thigh between her legs yet again you could also feel the wet spot that was created. You detached your lips from hers, instead bringing open mouth kisses down her neck and collarbone until you reached her breasts. You removed one of your hands from their previous position, placing it on her hip instead.

Her whines from the loss were instantly quietened when you circled your tongue around her areola. You then dragged your tongue over her nipple and started to flick and suck on it. Her hand landed on your head, fingers threading through your hair to get a tight grip on it, holding you in place.

As your hand twisted and pinched her nipple you softly bit onto her other nipple with your teeth. As you raised your head, bringing her nipple with you, her back arched from the pained pleasure. Her legs clenched around your own, her hips desperately trying to grind against you.

A soft "Please" you heard come from her. “What do you want Wanda?” You asked when you change your mouth from her right breast to her left, doing the exact same thing as before.

“I want your fingers, please.” At the same time she told you what she wanted, her hand grabbed ahold of yours and guided it down to her panites. “Good girl.” You told her as you let go of her nipple. You started making your way down her stomach, leaving a trail of kisses after you. You were soon met with a pair of beautiful red lace panties. You could also clearly see the dark spot in the middle of them, showing off how aroused she really was.

“Is it okay if I take this off love?” You asked, softly looking up at her. “Yes, please.” She answered whilst nodding. You gripped both her skirt and panties at the same time, dragging them down her legs until they dropped down to the floor.

As you made your way up her body again you left a trail of wet kisses up her legs. When you came up to her thigh you started lightly biting, leaving bruises behind. Coming up to her pussy you placed a kiss right above her small patch of dark hair.

Her hips bucked at the motion and a quiet moan slipped past her throat. You parted her legs, moving to lay between them, coming face to face with her again. “Are you really sure that this is what you want Wands? I don’t want to do anything you're not comfortable with.”

“Yes, I promise I want this, I feel safe with you.” She said that she caressed your cheek. Her words almost brought tears to your eyes. To know that she trusts you fully with her body and her pleasure.

You pressed your lips to hers, dragging your tongue across her bottom lip asking for permission to enter. She opened her mouth, tangling her tongue with yours. You used her being distracted in the interment moment to bring your hand down to her pussy.

You dragged your whole hand from her clit to her weeping hole, gathering her arousal on your two middle fingers you dragged them back up to her clit. You rubbed circles around it, teasing her by never fully touching it directly. She grunted into your mouth in frustration, her hips bucking up into your hand seaking the friction she needed.

“If you want something you have to tell me Wanda.” You reminded her. Your words made her even more frustrated, couldn't you see that she just needed you. She needs you to make her cum, not to draw it out by teasing her. She barely had any control over her own body left, her hips were bucking wildly in need and her folds were puffy and sticky from all the arousal leaking out of her.

“Please, I just want you to make me cum.” She pleaded. You could see the desperation in her eyes, how they were glazed over, only focusing on you. You knew how much she needed this, you weren't blind. You however, also knew how much sweeter her first release would be with how worked up she was.

“It’s okay love, I’ll take care of you.” Your lips connected to hers yet again, you pressed down on her clit with your thumb, tracing her entrance before sinking into her with your middle- and ring finger. “Oh God.” Her back arched as you pumped your fingers inside of her. She was so wet you could hear sounds coming from her at every thrust.

Her nails dug into your back, leaving deep, red scratch marks, desperately wanting to have you as close as possible. She hid her head in your neck as a way of trying to quieten down her moans. “Don’t do that.” you whispered against her ear. “Don’t hide those lovely sounds from me.” You curled your fingers, making them hit the most pleasurable spot inside her. “I want to hear how good I make you feel.”

She couldn't hold back anymore. Nobody had ever made her feel as good as she felt now when your fingers repeatedly kept hitting her g-spot. Loud moans spilled from her mouth and you could feel how her walls clenched around your fingers.

With your thumb playing with her clit and your fingers working inside of her your hand began cramping. The angle was a bit awkward and you couldn't use the force that you wanted to.

When you attempted to move your hand into a better position Wanda's hand shot down to yours, desperately trying to keep you in place. She panicked when she felt you move, being so embarrassing close she was afraid you would stop before she was pushed over the edge. “No, please don’t stop. I haven’t finished yet. ” She said, looking up at you pleadingly.

“I know, don’t worry sweetheart.” You chuckled. “I’m just changing into a better position.” You pecked her lips, trying to reassure her further. You moved your hand so that your palm was pressed against her clit, making it easy for you to grind it against her as you yet again eased your finger in.

The act made Wanda relax and place her hand back around your neck. You picked up the pace making sure that your palm stimulated her clit at the same time. You knew she was close again from how her body started tensing. Her legs locked up around your arm and her grip tightened around you.

“Fuck you feel so good, I’m so close!” She moaned against you. “It’s okay, be a good girl and cum for me Wanda.” And she did. “Ohhhh” She let out an almost pornographic moan as her back arched and her whole body trembled. Her eyes shut tight at the utter pleasure that pulsed through her. You could feel her cum leaking out of her as you slowly brought her down from her orgasm.

“There you go, you did so good my love.” You slowly pulled your fingers out and started stroking her legs and her waist bringing her back in the moment with you. Her body slowly lowered back into the bed as she relaxed against you. You left a light trail of kisses from her shoulder up her neck and ended it with a kiss to her forehead. The mussels in her face instantly relaxed and she opened her eyes looking up at you.

“Hi” You smiled down at her. “Hi” She whispered back with a blush rising up her cheeks. “How are you feeling, are you okay?” You were afraid you maybe had taken things too far in the moment and that she would start to regret what you had done.

“Yes I’m okay, I promise. This was amazing. You are amazing.” She said as she stroked your cheek. The worry in your eyes was clear and she wanted you to know you didn’t do anything wrong. She could also feel the heat that rose to your face due to her compliment, not being used to it.

trying to hide it from her you connected your lips and dragged your tongue against her bottom one asking for entrance. Of course she granted it and swirled her tongue with yours. You took your time to just enjoy the moment and the efter bliss, only parting when air became an issue.

"Stay here I’m just gonna get a towel so I can clean you up.” She nodded and you left to go to the bathroom. When you came back with the damp towel you gently cleaned her between her legs and where you had dragged your hand as you were trying to calm her down. Wanda watched as you made sure not to leave any residue left.

When you were done you threw the towel towards the bathroom not wanting to depart from Wanda. “ Hey Wands, would you like to sleep here tonight?” Her being exhausted and on the verge of falling asleep wouldn't say no to that. “Yes please.”

You laid down besides her opening your arm allowing her to snuggle into you. Your legs ended up being tangled, your arms wrapped around each other and she used your shoulder as her pillow. “Thank you for doing this, good night.”

“Of course love.” “Ehh before you sleep, would it be okay if I took you on a proper date tomorrow?”. She tightened her grip on you and kissed your neck before whispering out “Yes I would love nothing more.” With that you both fell asleep happy and content in each other's arms.

#wanda x y/n #wanda smut #wanda x reader #bottom wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda fanfic

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wndaswife · 1 year

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a change in you | wanda maximoff & gn!reader

A strong friendship had developed between you and Wanda after she moved to the compound, but ever since you'd gotten a girlfriend, she grew distant and abrasive without explanation.

Word count: 5228

Tags: smut, angst, jealousy, fluff, fingering, this was written in september and i needed to get it out of drafts, so there will be stylistic differences, sub!wanda maximoff, dom!reader. MINORS DNI.

gif credit to creator.

“What do you like about sitcoms?” you asked Wanda, looking over to her as you lifted a handful of popcorn to your mouth. She was leaning against you, your head resting atop hers as her eyes were focused on the black-and-white scene in front of her. Your cheek was pressed against the top of Wanda’s head, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.

Wanda shrugged, reaching up to take a few pieces of popcorn from your hand instead of the large bowl laying in her lap. “I’ve always liked them,” she answered. You loved hearing about Wanda’s childhood, the life she held so dearly to her heart.

Beyond the Strucker experiments, beyond HYDRA and Ultron, beyond being an Avenger, Wanda Maximoff had an innate devotion to love and be loved in return. Everyone she had ever loved and lost were held deep within her. Wanda was driven by those lucky enough to be loved by her, driven to appease, to create a universe within your busy lives for the two of you. The reason she fought, dreamt, and lived was for the profound depths that laid beyond the guises of being a fighter, formed with the intention of filling it with a life surrounded by family.

Watching sitcoms became a tradition for the two of you at the end of the week, cuddled up under mounds of thick blankets and snacks that you introduced Wanda to. Tonight, it was something simple- Maltesers and popcorn.

“As a child, my family would drop everything to watch sitcoms together. My father worked all day. My mother homeschooled Pietro and I,” Wanda recalled. “We were poor. My parents tried their best to make a life for us. When we sat together in front of the television at the end of the day, it was one of the only times I felt like we were a normal family. Like a better future was plausible.”

She lifted her head from your shoulder and looked up at you. With a smile that never ceased to make your heart swell, she said, “And now, it’s a tradition for us.”

That was a month ago, and the last time you and Wanda spent time together.

Wanda left the communal kitchen and lounge area whenever you entered the room. She never answered when you knocked on her bedroom door. During meetings and conferences, she would choose not to sit by you, and if she had no choice but to take the seat beside you, she wouldn’t utter a word to you nor even meet your eyes. Sometimes she’d even choose to stand for the meetings entirety.

You’d gotten Natasha to speak with Wanda for you, and that seemed innocent enough until she brought you up.

Maybe someone detached from the Avenger life would be more effective in getting information from Wanda. You asked Marie to speak to her for you.

Marie was your girlfriend who you’d only just started seeing. She was funny and big-hearted, and insanely smart. You had met her on a mission while she was interning for the Avengers’ lead nursing team. Despite everything, Wanda hated her, and that wasn’t an exaggeration.

You’d heard from some of the others that she’d been talking badly about her ever since the day you got Marie to approach Wanda while she was making lunch for herself. The things you’d heard that Wanda said about her was entirely uncharacteristic of her. She was never like this before.

She’d done a complete one-eighty — one day she had been cuddling up to you on a Friday night like you’d always done with her, then avoiding you all at once and telling your mutual friends that Marie was a gold-digging whore who only wanted you for your title as an Avenger.

Wanda’s validation of your relationship was evidently important to you, yet you didn’t question why it was for a moment through the weeks you craved her approval of Marie. What lay in deep slumber like a sleeping dragon within you beyond layers of confusion and frustration was something you would’ve classified as heartbreak if you had paid any mind to it. You found it was easier on you to be shrouded in infuriated shadows rather than to feel the pain of having Wanda turn on you the way she had, like the flick of a switch as if you had meant nothing to her.

Months of movie nights and conversations and hours spent comforting her and making her laugh- was it no more than a fleeting memory? Had Wanda always intended it to be this way?

Sightings of the Sokovian became scarce. She had taken up a significant amount of missions despite Steve’s advising against it as she volunteered to be dispatched for the smallest of expeditions. Even the Avengers had their working hours, and ever since she’d met Marie, Wanda had been working overtime. When she wasn’t on missions, she was out.

Always out.

Even while Wanda hadn’t been seen by you in days, Marie refused to come around the compound anymore. She was a particularly conflict-avoidant woman, and once she got word of what Wanda had been saying about her, Marie told you that she refused to intrude into Wanda’s territory any longer. The distance was putting a strain on your relationship with her.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t seen Marie since Wanda’s criticisms of your girlfriend reached you, because you had. You often met with her outside the compound in the city, or her apartment in Queens. But it wasn’t enough to patch whatever rifts had formed between the two of you. Perhaps it was also the tension Wanda had put on your relationship; the strange wire you were walking on while both evading confronting Wanda and wanting to defend your girlfriend.

Wanda was your best friend, and she still was, wasn’t she? If there was a chance to talk about what she had said about Marie as friends rather than people deluded by misinterpretation and blind anger, then you would take it. You just had to wait for the chance to come.

But as time went on, waiting for Wanda to apologise and anticipating to see her in the hallways one day, your relationship with Marie only continued to slowly fracture, from her cancelling plans to ignoring your calls entirely. Not only was time for Wanda running out, but you had quickly grown tired of waiting for her as it became clear that she wasn’t going to approach you or take her words back.

You weren’t sure why Wanda had stopped talking to you, why she had suddenly belittled your partner, or why she had completely flipped a switch on you, but you had no more patience in waiting for answers. You needed one, at least. If Wanda could tell you why she had given up on her friendship with you, things would be easier. If she refused to befriend you, even without rationalisation, you would build up from there. An answer — that was all you needed.

There were no missions today, no excursions, no errands that needed to be done that Wanda could take up as an excuse for avoiding you. When you asked her room neighbour, Vision told you she had left early in that morning and was yet to return. You had even asked him if he knew what was wrong with her, and he simply told you that she was concerned for you. Within his ever wise and omniscient advice, he told you that you should’ve considered how distressed she was, how heavy conflict could be for particularly-affected individuals.

Bullshit.

Wanda wasn’t ‘distressed.’ She was being a bitch, and you had enough of waiting for her to take responsibility for what she's done and be a good person, to apologise for what she said. Because she wouldn’t on her own.

You pushed open the doors of the compound’s training room. Clashing metal echoed through the illustrious room, filled with ever-updating technology and machines set up solely for training and practice. The newest addition to the gymnasium was the holopad. It was a four-dimensional holographic platform for hand-to-hand combat training.

You rounded the training room’s equipment to see the holopad being used, a figure of flashing red and ivory white reducing Ultron bots to holographic pixels. His familiar robotic voice spoke gibberish as they approached Wanda from all angles.

She was quicker than she had been during the battle in Sokovia. Her senses were peaked, her fingers flexing and her arms outstretched to take the approaching holograms by their heads, detaching them from their necks. Pixelated metal torsos were ripped from their bodies, robotic cries of defeat echoed against the otherwise empty room as their bodies dissipated and formed new training targets.

One of the program’s more impressive feats was that the user could program for the machine to conjure any adversary. Sometimes, for Tony, it was Steve. For Wanda, Ultron. But today, you expected for the pixelated opponents to be of Marie’s face.

You approached the holopad, standing at the base of its staircase before calling Wanda’s name out.

The sudden noise made her flinch, breaking her focus and allowing the Ultron bots to reach her. Their holographic arms permeated her body, causing a myriad of colours to reflect against her before the holopad flashed red and reset to its blank state.

She looked down at you, panting as she steadied her breath. Wanda pushed her hair back and looked down to her hands to take her gloves off, sensory coverings that helped the pad tell where her hands were and the magic she was using as she fought. Wanda stepped down from the platform, velcro sounding loudly as she slipped the black gloves off and laid them on the control tablet’s stand.

“What do you want?” she asked in vexation, placing her hands on her hips and staring straight at you. She was wearing black leggings and a grey tank, strands of dark hair slick against her forehead.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?“ you snapped, taking a step towards her, demanding an answer even through the way you approached her.

Wanda feigned ignorance, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned to pick her water bottle up from the floor, but you took hold of her wrist, forcing her to straighten and face you again.

“You called my girlfriend a gold-digging whore,” you reminded her with a scowl. Wanda forced her wrist out of your hold at the mention of Marie.

“And?” she retorted, her head tipping to the side, daring you to argue with her.

You scoffed, and Wanda bristled, almost disappointed you weren’t more angry. “And?” you repeated incredulously. Wanda’s eyebrows raised expectantly. “We didn’t do anything to you.”

Stiff lines formed on either side of Wanda’s jaw as she clenched her teeth, her eyes widening in apparent fury. She shouted as if the basic foundations of a relationship were unheard of by her, “We? Is that what you and Marie are now? You care about what she thinks?”

You shrugged with your palms upturned, your expression frozen in disbelief. “I don’t know, Wanda. Did you think things would be the same after we started dating?”

The muscles in Wanda’s neck flexed, her nostrils flaring as she exhaled heavily, her body trembling with restrained anger. She turned suddenly, picking up her waterbottle and speeding past you in a furious delirium.

You followed after her, picking up speed as Wanda did as she tried to flee from your vicinity. “We’re not doing this again! We’re not just going to stop talking for weeks, just for me to have to chase after you like this!” you called from behind her.

“Chasing after me? You’re such a mess,” Wanda scoffed as she pushed the gym’s doors open, not bothering to hold it open for you. It nearly crashed into your face and you stuck your hands out to catch it, pushing it forward and slamming it against the adjacent wall as you glowered at Wanda from behind. You followed Wanda into the hallway leading into the changing rooms and showers.

Your hand made contact with her shoulder and you pulled her back, spinning her around and causing her to stumble until she steadied herself to face you. The tears forming in your eyes made Wanda’s angry veil crack momentarily. “Why are you acting like this?” you asked her, your voice breaking. Having been masked with Marie’s company and utter confusion for the last month, the sorrow of losing Wanda from your life took seeing her in person to set in.

Wanda’s eyes flickered between both of yours. Her expression softened but her resolve did not. “I don’t understand why you care about me so much, Y/N. You have… Marie,” she whispered out, trying to meet your eyes through your glassy tears. The very act of saying your girlfriend’s name was an obvious struggle for her.

You wiped your eyes with the back of your wrists and laughed humorlessly. “Wanda…” you mumbled out. Your hands dropped to your sides and you met her eyes, the most sincere the two of you have been in weeks. “It doesn’t matter who else I have in my life. It never would’ve mattered. You’re you. Marie is Marie.”

She shook her head, her eyes not leaving yours for a moment. “What are you trying to say?” she asked you cluelessly.

“I mean that I missed you, and all you were doing was avoiding me no matter how hard I tried to get your attention. Do you regret getting close to me?”

Wanda inhaled shakily, her shoulders raising. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug and closing her eyes. “I missed you too,” she said into your hair, squeezing you tighter. “Y/N, you don’t understand.”

Anger scorched up your throat and you pushed Wanda away, causing her to stumble backwards. “What don’t I understand, Wanda? You can’t just keep doing this to me.”

“No, Y/N, I—“

“I don’t want to hear anymore bullshit.”

“It’s not! Stop interrupting me and listen.”

You pushed past her anyways, your eyes brimming with tears as your vision became clouded. To have Wanda see you like this, someone who was perfectly fine with pretending you didn’t exist for a month, was certain death.

Four words suddenly blurted out from behind you, attaching chains to your ankles and stopping you where you stood.

“Y/N, I love you.”

Your chin met your shoulder as you looked back at Wanda. Her shoulders were raised, her posture tense as her fists clenched.

“I love you,” she repeated, and you saw her shoulder raise when she inhaled sharply.

You turned around completely, your body facing hers. “I heard you,” you answered. Wanda might’ve fled the room in tears had it not been for the confused furrow of your eyebrows and the trembling of your bottom lip.

“I wished—” Wanda’s mouth shut and she swallowed before correcting herself, “I wish you had never met Marie. I wish you had never started dating her.” The confession spilled from beyond her lips as if it was hastily scripted, her words’ intentions clear but her execution painfully poor.

“You really don’t like her…?” you questioned meekly.

An exasperated sigh escaped from Wanda, her entire body deflating as you continued to misunderstand her. “I don’t like her,” she said. “She’s not good enough for you. Not funny or that smart.”

Your hand raised to your forehead and you massage your temple with your thumb. Your arm fell to your side and you looked straight ahead at Wanda with helpless eyes.

She was taking steps towards you without warning after dropping her waterbottle to the floor, not giving you a moment to even stumble backwards before one of Wanda’s hands wrapped around the back of your neck, her other coming up to cup your cheek. She pulled you against her, crushing your lips against hers bruisingly. You watched her eyes screw together tightly before your own eyes fluttered shut.

Your hands found her hips and you pulled her against you.

Desperate groans and greedy moans were exchanged into your mouths between warm pants. Without conscious volition, your hands began to roam Wanda’s body, taking your best friend in ways you had never before as your hands ran up her back, gripping her sides with possession that made Wanda melt.

You disconnected from Wanda’s swollen lips and leaned down to bury your face into the crook of her neck, her soft hair shrouding your face as you peppered wet kisses up the side of her neck. You could feel the vibrations of her moans against your lips.

“Y/N,” Wanda whimpered your name out. Your tongue ran flush up Wanda’s neck, making her shiver and stumble in your hold before your lips reached her jaw and you sucked at her skin. You found yourself walking forward, leaving Wanda to stagger backwards in attempts to catch up with you and avoid tripping. She was led backwards until her back was pressed against something firm, and she was trapped firmly between you and the wall.

You raised your head and looked at Wanda, a small smile pulling at your lips at the sight of her dishevelled hair and flushed cheeks. “I love you too, Wanda,” you finally told her, your forehead pressed against hers as she looked at you.

Wanda was an enigma. Truly. Her eyes began to well in warm tears and her head hung as she cried into your chest. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she sobbed. “I missed you so much. It was so painful to… But I didn’t know what else to do.” Your hands raised from her waist and you wrapped your arms around Wanda’s trembling shoulders, hushing her softly as she continued to cry. “I couldn’t stand seeing you with her, to know that I could never be what she is to you.”

Pulling away from her enough to cup her cheek and tilt her head up, you kissed Wanda’s tear-stained cheeks. “You are everything to me. With someone else or not, I love you, Wanda. I always will,” you said, your thumb stroking her cheekbone gently. “I shouldn’t have let you feel that way.”

“Don’t,” she argued. Wanda buried her face into the crook of your neck and closed her eyes. Her arms were wrapped around your waist and you wondered if she’d ever let go. You imagined that having Wanda hanging onto your waist until the end of time wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “I don’t want to think about that anymore,” Wanda muttered. She whispered, “Just be with me.”

“Always,” you replied. Your hand cradled the back of Wanda’s head, your other arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug.

After a few silent moments of being embraced by one another, Wanda pulled away from you, slipping out from between you and the wall with a small sniffle. Her arm that was wrapped around your waist fell to her side before she took your hand in hers. With a smile that made your heart swell, as it had hundreds of times before like it would in your future, Wanda led you forward. She pushed open the door to the shower room and the two of you walked in, passing Wanda’s locker and handfuls of others while you followed behind her and watched the swaying of her long dark hair.

Once arriving at one of the showers, Wanda pushed the shower curtain open and turned the shower’s hot water on. While steam began clouding around the two of you, Wanda let go of your hand and undressed. Eye contact was only broken with you when she pulled her shirt over her head. Her ivory skin glistened with a thin layer of shower steam and she stepped towards you when she was simply in her bra and underwear.

Your hands rounded her body as you undid her bra while Wanda tugged at your pants’ waistband before it fell to the ground. Her bra slipped from her shoulders and it dropped on top of your pants. You wrapped an arm around her hips and leaned down to press a kiss to the valley of her breasts. Wanda looked down at you with a soft smile while she played with your hair.

Slow fingers hooked the waistband of her panties and you pulled them down. Wanda stepped out of the garment once it fell to the shower room’s floor.

Wanda undressed you next, her hands running up the soft plains of your body. Green eyes flickered over every inch of your bareness in attempts to saturate you into her memory forever. Her palms ran up your chest and she placed her hands on your shoulders. Wanda pulled the shower curtain back again and she led you in.

Your fingers traced the stretch marks on Wanda’s hips as she walked backwards into the shower. The two of you were soon shrouded in its steam. “You’re so beautiful, Wanda,” you whispered, soaking in her bare body as a flower to the sun at the break of dawn. Her cheeks flushed pink and you kissed her when she tried to look away.

Neither of you bothered to close the shower curtain and you pushed Wanda into the shower wall carefully. Your hand found its way between her thighs and she let out a shaky breath against your lips. Both of your bodies became wet with hot water, but it was you who was responsible for the sticky slick that coated Wanda’s inner thighs.

Your fingers delved into Wanda’s folds while your thumb drew lazy shapes against her clit. Wanda’s head was lolled back against the wall, moaning out in pleasure. Her arms were wrapped around your neck, pulling you ever closer as if frightened that you might leave without warning. Your other hand groped Wanda’s breast, your palm running smoothly against her hardened nipple.

“Y/N, please,” Wanda pleaded, her eyes opening to meet yours, her emerald gaze seeping with desperation. Her hips jerked down against your fingers. Pride swelled in your chest as you watched her writhe for you, a sight reserved only for you. “I want to feel you,” she whispered against your lips. “I want to be yours.”

Moving forward to kiss Wanda’s cheek, you laid your forehead against hers as your slick fingers centred against her opening. You felt her thighs trembling against your own and pushed her further against the shower wall, holding her up. Smooth fingers delved past her opening and Wanda clenched her jaw, a restrained groan leaving her. With a fluttering heart, you watched as her eyes screwed shut, her mouth falling open to moan her hot breath against your chin.

Your lips captured hers, though it was short-lived as your fingers pushed through her velvety walls and Wanda panted out hasty exhales. Once before, you had discussed sex with Wanda. She wasn’t a virgin, although her first time consisted of a myriad of lazy kisses and disinterested fucking. From what you knew, Wanda hadn’t been seeing anyone, and although you had recently spent a month without speaking, the way she clenched around your digits and exhaled trembling breaths implied she hadn’t been touched like this in quite a while.

At the realisation, you ducked your head down and pressed openmouthed kisses to her neck, her wet hair sticking to every plain of skin it could find. Wanda's head was thrown back, her body arching into yours as her hips lowered in jerky motions. She craved more yet knew so little in what the tightening in her lower stomach meant with you. But you were receptive.

Fingers quickened and the Sokovian’s moans turned into what could only be described as squeals. She tried pulling back, pressing her ass against the wall at the sudden unfamiliar intrusion into her pussy, but your wrist surged forward, refusing to part from Wanda’s cunt. The heel of your hand met her clit and you flattened it against her sensitive nub.

Wanda whimpered in response, her entire body melting in your hold despite the juxtaposing quivering of her walls.

Leaving cold trails of saliva in your wake, your kisses reached the valley of her breasts and you let go of one to cup her cheek. At the feeling of your warm hand caressing her, Wanda’s eyes fluttered open. Her head tipped down and she met your eyes, audacious and unequivocal as you looked up at her from between her breasts.

With your hand still on her cheek, you made her look down at you when your lips wrapped around a rosy erect nipple. Shaky lips formed into a smile as Wanda watched the way you loved her.

“Y/N,” Wanda whimpered meekly, “that feels so good.” Amongst the pleasurable writhing deep within her lower stomach as your fingers continued to fuck her pussy was the intertwining of something warm that only grew the longer she watched you suckle at her breast gently. “You make me feel…”

Your lips found her other nipple and Wanda struggled to maintain eye contact with you. You allowed her to loll her head back against the shower wall in mindless pleasure.

“... So good,” Wanda uttered, her words mumbled out from her mouth weakly. The shower fogged up with hot steam as hot water continued to stream down on the two of you, which was a partial reason as to why the rising and falling of Wanda’s chest was perpetually quickening. You hummed in response, the soft exhaling from your nose teasing at her nipple.

The sound of your thrusting fingers found an accelerating tempo while Wanda’s cunt squelched with the repetitive penetration of her tight hole. The soft hiss of the running hot shower behind you turned into a muddled hum as your senses were filled with nothing but Wanda’s moans, the feeling of her cunt wrapped around your fingers, the feeling of her soft creamy skin running under your hands.

A teasing tug of Wanda’s nipple from between your teeth made her yelp, and despite the reaction, she pulled you closer. You raised yourself up to her face again and began rubbing the heel of your hand against her clit side to side.

“You gonna come soon, Wands?” you asked her, a teasing smirk on your lips.

Through her weak haze, Wanda grinned in return at the use of the nickname. It’d been so long since she’d heard it last. She pulled herself against you, her head resting on your shoulder. “Gonna come,” she confirmed, hugging her arms around your neck tightly. “I love being with you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

Your arm raised to wrap around her waist, your hand pressing flush against her back and pulling her closer. You kissed Wanda’s temple and felt her smile against your neck. “I love you too, Wanda. So much,” you uttered against her wet skin. “Come for me, my angel.”

Despite the curling of your fingers deep within her pussy, it was your use of the pet name that brought Wanda to her high. She buried her face further into your neck when she came, but you raised your head, pulling back slightly to watch her screwed-shut eyes and parted lips. Her knees buckled and she fell forward against you, but you held her up. The raspy cries that left her from beyond her soft lips were comparable to siren’s calls, tempting and every moment alluring.

You had never seen her this way before, and no one else but you ever would. Wanda was every inch yours as you’d be for her from then on, belonging to her, your best friend and the only woman you’d ever love.

Wanda’s arms were limp around your neck as her orgasm washed over her in its final moments. Her arms slipped from your shoulders and dropped to your hips instead, holding you albeit weakly. Her thighs trembled as she held herself up, her hips buckling against yours. She panted against your neck, her warm breath travelling down your chest and hardening your nipples.

With a proud smile, you slipped your fingers out of Wanda’s cunt and she whimpered, hips jerking down at the empty feeling. After running the tips of your fingers through her folds, you slipped your hand out from between Wanda’s thighs. Hooded green eyes looked up at you as you slid your coated fingers past your lips, cheeks hollowing in as you savoured her tangy sweet flavour. Wanda flushed at the sight and you took your fingers out of your mouth to lean down and kiss her.

No resistance was present when you pushed your tongue past Wanda’s lips, spreading the flavour of her pussy through her mouth. When you parted from her lips to press a kiss to her forehead, Wanda mumbled out, “I love you.” The words gave her an instant high, having been burying it deep within her ever since she’d known you, the closest she’d ever gotten to bringing it to the surface being in platonic humorous confessions of love between friends. But now it was different. Wanda could love you without hesitation.

Your hand came to the back of her head, stroking her hair as you whispered sweet promises against her warm skin.

If given enough time, Wanda would’ve been able to fall asleep standing up as you held her, hot water encapsulating both your bodies.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Wanda,” you told her and she smiled up at you sleepily.

For the next little while, you washed Wanda’s hair, scratching at her scalp gently as she leaned back into you. You pulled her backwards to run her shampooed hair under the shower, your fingers raking through her long hair as you washed it through. You pressed kisses to Wanda’s body at every given chance, on her shoulders, her neck, her ears, her shoulder blades.

It was true that things were different, and after that day, it always would be. But there was something so special about loving silence that both you and Wanda shared, and irregardless of the changes that would come about, your hearts would continue to swell larger than any spiel of words could at the stillness your shared love brought.

You’d never love each other from a distance again, no word gone unexchanged, no moment of time spent hiding the way every instinct screamed out with a fervent desire to reach out to one another, yearning for the embrace of the other.

You could embrace Wanda in a way you’d never been able to before, or rather because you hadn’t ever known what your feelings for her meant —the tightening in your chest when she had avoided you, the fluttering of your heart when she took your hand.

Throughout the years that would pass spent with her, one thing would always remain true; Wanda and you have always loved each other, in the longing stares and the hidden blushes, in the stabilising of your quickening heart when you took Wanda into your chest and listened to her steady breaths.

When you’d rinsed Wanda’s body of soap and her hair of shampoo, she turned to pull you close and looked up at you. “I’ll be yours forever, won’t I, Y/N?” she asked.

Without even a moment’s worth of thinking it over, you answered, “Always.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #bottom wanda maximoff #marvel smut #elizabeth olsen

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wandafiction · 2 months

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Just Us - Series List

Y/n is a multimillionaire. Wanda Maximoff is a divorced mum of two twin boys who is trying her best. What happens when their paths cross at a club and Y/n takes Wanda home for the night?

Warnings: This story is an 18+ read, Minors DNI, contains talks and description of Death, Accidents, Injury, Child Loss, Abuse (Physical and Emotional), Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Suggestive themes, Smut (Each Chapter With Themes Explained), Angst (Lots of It), And Some Fluff Thrown in because I felt bad. Top Reader, Bottom Wanda

Each chapter will come with their own warnings.

This is a story that I have put up on my Wattpad and my Ao3 and thought I would share it here for more of you wonderful people. I do hope you enjoy this read. There will be mistakes here and there and maybe some incorrect translations.

So this is an AU story with the MCU characters. So the ages and story lines with be changed and different from that in the movies.

I will right some history for each character as the story progresses just so ages and other things make sense.

All the Character's in this are played by their respective actors and certain aspects of the MCU have been added in. But once again its not going to be an alternative marvel story it is a completely different universe.

I don't own any if the MCU characters.

Master List

Chapter List

Chapter 1 - Yours or Mine

Chapter 2 18+ - First Time

Chapter 3 - How Much

Chapter 4 18+ - Beautiful

Chapter 5 - Accent

Chapter 6 - The Twins

Chapter 7 - Just Add 8

Chapter 8 - Panic Attack

Chapter 9 - Sounds Like A date

Chapter 10 - Happy Tears

Chapter 11 - Twenty Percent

Chapter 12 - Favourite Colour

Chapter 13 - Ex-husbands Clothes

Chapter 14 18+ - Trust is Not Like Candy

Chapter 15 - Morning Bliss

Chapter 16 - Sisterly Advice

Chapter 17 - Lunch Date

Chapter 18 - Not By Blood, By Choice

Chapter 19 18+ - Frozen Peas

Chapter 20 - Scarlet Witch

Chapter 21 - Iron Man

Chapter 22 18+ - Love Language

Chapter 23 - The Friends

Chapter 24 - Hela's Kitchen

Chapter 25 - The Question

Chapter 26 - From Second To First

Chapter 27 - Mr Blue Sky

Chapter 28 - Protective Friend

Chapter 29 - It's Real To Me

Chapter 30 - Pile On

Chapter 31 18+ - Water Fight

Chapter 32 - Head Scratches

Chapter 33 - Billy's Discovery

Chapter 34 - Superhero Trio

Chapter 35 - Pancakes and L Bombs.

Chapter 36 - 10 Out Of 10 Dive

Chapter 37 - Tickle Monster

Chapter 38 - Sarah Stark

Chapter 39 - Love Persevering

Chapter 40 - First Meeting

Chapter 41 - Hear, Listen, Take It In

Chapter 42 - Touch

Chapter 43 - Mockingbird

Chapter 44 - Family

Chapter 45 - Search Party

Chapter 46 - Bowl Of Popcorn

Chapter 47 - Pet Names

Chapter 48 - Trying Something New

Chapter 49 - French Braids

Chapter 50 - Not Taking Advantage

Chapter 51 - To Understand Someone

Chapter 52 - The Row

Chapter 53 - I Need You

Chapter 54 - Your Flaws Are Your Strengths

Chapter 55 - Jealousy

Chapter 56 - I Can't Be Here

Chapter 57 - Stephanie Grace Turner

Chapter 58 - Zak The Waiter

Chapter 59 - Declarations

Chapter 60 - Clingy

Chapter 61 - Triple Chocolate Brownies

Chapter 62 - Watch Me

Chapter 63 - Grown-Up Conversations

Chapter 64 - A+

Chapter 65 - Dynamic

Chapter 66 - You Don't Get It

Chapter 67 - Conditioned

Chapter 68 - Selachimorpha

Chapter 69 - Beed Stroganoff

Chapter 70 - Ruby-Throated Hummingbird

Chapter 71 - Realisations

Chapter 72 - Princess

Chapter 73 - The Talk

Chapter 74 - Black Widow

Chapter 75 - Can I Join You

Chapter 76 - Люли, люли, люленьки

Chapter 77 - Moose

Chapter 78 - Aurora Borealis

Chapter 79 - Calgary

Chapter 80 - Mirror

Chapter 81 - Massage and Important Conversations

Chapter 82 - Banff

Chapter 83 - Strawberries

Chapter 84 - Bayushki Bayu

Chapter 85 - Cookies

Chapter 86 - Control

Chapter 87 - Hyper Puppy

Chapter 88 - Treehouse

Chapter 89 - 312

Chapter 90 - Forgiveness

Chapter 91 - Always Feel Good

Chapter 92 - Your Third Love

Chapter 93 - Daddy

Chapter 94 - Home

Chapter 95 - Stalker

Chapter 96 - Can't Catch A Break

Chapter 97 - Mile High Club

Chapter 98 - Happy

Chapter 99 - Halloween

Chapter 100 - What's In The Box?

Chapter 101 - Hired

Chapter 102 - I've Got You

Chapter 103 - Missed Morning Message

Chapter 104 - Someone I Would Like You To Meet

Chapter 105 - Sis

Chapter 106 - Soulmates

Chapter 107 - Eleos

Chapter 108 - I Called Her Mom

Chapter 109 - Suka

Chapter 110 - How Have I Made It Worse?

Chapter 111 - What Scares You?

Chapter 112 - I Thought I Was Helping

Chapter 113 - What If They Leave?

Chapter 114 - Yelena!

Chapter 115 - Puppy In Training

Chapter 116 - Your Wish Is My Command

Chapter 117 - Morning Sex

Chapter 118 - Safe

Chapter 119 - Work On Yourself

Chapter 120 - Happy Thanksgiving

Chapter 121 - I Hate This

Chapter 122 - To Be A Deer

Chapter 123 - Is Love Enough?

Chapter 124 - Let's Go Out Out

Chapter 125 - Feeling Of Rejection

Chapter 126 - You Should Hate Me

Chapter 127 - You Ready?

Chapter 128 - Pietro

Chapter 129 - Questions And Opinions

Chapter 130 - What Are You Up To?

Chapter 131 - When Pigs Fly

Chapter 132 - Science Lesson

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda smut #wanda maximoff smut #bottom wanda #bottom wanda maximoff #sub wanda #sub wanda maximoff #top reader #bottom wanda x top reader #sub wanda maximoff x top reader #bottom wanda maximoff x top reader #sub wanda x top reader #marvel au #Just Us Series

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witchslove · 2 years

Text

I Can Do It Better

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: When you find out your best friend has never had an orgasm, you help her out.

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; smut, bottom!wanda, fingering, semi-clothed sex, drinking games, cheating(?)

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“Never have I ever had a boyfriend.”

Wanda threw her head back in a laugh at your statement and took a swig of her drink. “Well, obviously. You don’t like guys,” she said, glaring at you playfully.

“Anything is fair game in Never Have I Ever, Wands,” you retorted with a smug smile on your face. “And technically I could’ve in the past before I realized it.”

“Fair point,” she mused, giggling as she began to think of one for you.

The two of you had decided to have some sort of a girls’ night, which consisted of watching a movie and getting drunk. After the movie ended, you were a little more than halfway through a pack of beers and decided to play some drinking games.

You and Wanda were long-time best friends and told each other nearly everything so you figured a friendly game of Never Have I Ever couldn’t hurt. If anything, you might find out something you didn’t know and it would only bring the two of you closer.

Wanda racked her brain trying to think of something she’d never done that you had. She finally landed on one and before her slightly drunk brain could register just how personal it was, she blurted it out.

“Never have I ever had an orgasm.”

If you had been drinking from your beer, you were sure you would’ve spit it out everywhere.

Wanda’s face paled as she realized what she just said out loud to her best friend; it was something she’d never told anyone before.

She couldn’t go back in time and not say it, so she just looked at you and waited for you to take a drink, because that was the rule of the game. She hoped you would brush it off and take your turn, but you didn’t.

“What about… I thought you and Vision…” you said, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Wanda sighed, her cheeks turning rosy. “Um, yeah, we did but he didn’t- I didn’t…” she mumbled out, feeling shy.

You sat there, processing what she was telling you. It didn’t surprise you that Vision wasn’t good in bed. You’d never really liked him and you’d told Wanda she could do better, but she disagreed with you. He was the first guy to ever put in real effort on dates and he was kind, if not a little odd.

You tried to appreciate him for at least that and at the end of the day you just wanted to see the brunette happy. Sometimes you weren’t sure if you just wanted to dislike him because she wanted to date him instead of you.

No, she was your best friend. You didn’t see her that way - or at least that’s what you told yourself.

“And you’ve never… you know, touched yourself?” you asked awkwardly, not really wanting to pry or make her uncomfortable, but genuinely curious. Her admission caught you terribly off guard and you weren’t sure if it was your interest as her best friend or your interest as someone who maybe wanted to be more than friends that pushed you to drag out the conversation.

Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment. “No,” she said quietly. “I mean I’ve tried, I just… couldn’t get there.” As the words left her mouth, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She was certain the night couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

The image of Wanda with her hand between her legs trying desperately to get herself off flashed in your mind and you had to suppress the groan you wanted to let out at the thought of it.

“I’m sorry,” you responded, causing her to look up at you inquisitively. “That you’ve never, you know.”

It could’ve been the way you said it or it could’ve been the drinks, Wanda didn’t know, but either way she was speaking once again before she could stop herself. “Is it as good as everyone says it is?”

“It’s better,” you muttered, immediately feeling bad when you saw a frown overtake her features. “I mean, it’s okay I guess.”

Wanda let out a defeated sigh. “I wish I knew what it was like, I feel like it’s this big inside joke everyone’s in on except me,” she said dejectedly. When you turned to her, she was playing with her fingers in her lap, a nervous habit of hers that you found adorable if not a little disheartening knowing she was anxious. “Vis and I tried and he- he got there. But I don’t know, I don’t think I did.”

“Oh, trust me, you would know if you did,” you quipped, trying to lighten the mood. You realized that was the wrong thing to say when she brought her knees up to her chest and avoided eye contact.

“Wanda,” you started, scooting closer to her. “It’s okay that you haven’t, I was just surprised is all. I don’t want to see you sad over this, how can I get that pretty smile back on your face?”

“Give me an orgasm,” she joked, but it came out sounding more like a demand.

You stopped breathing for a second, not sure if she meant it or not. “Do you really want that?”

It was her turn to tense up, taken aback by your response. Her eyes met yours and she could sense your nerves, which mirrored her own. “You- you would do that?”

“I mean… I could,” you swallowed. “But would it be weird?”

She stared at you thoughtfully for a moment before replying. “I don’t think so. It would just be a friend helping out another friend, right?”

“Yeah,” you lied, knowing that doing this favor for her would be dangerous for you and your repressed crush on the brunette. “Right, exactly… a friend helping a friend.”

“Okay,” she paused and took a breath. “Then yes.”

“Yes?” Your mind was reeling with what was happening and you were struggling to keep up.

“Yes, I want… that. For you to…” she trailed off, waiting for it to click in your mind.

“Oh, right, yeah.” Your body felt warm and you worried your hands would start sweating. “Okay, so just… here? Now?”

“I don’t see why not,” Wanda answered, fidgeting.

“How much did you drink?” You really didn’t want to miss an opportunity to touch the girl you’d been fighting the urge to want for so long, but you definitely weren’t going to take advantage.

“A little more than two beers. I’m fine, Y/N, I’m not drunk.”

You looked into her eyes for any sign that she was lying and all you saw was anticipation.

You nodded, before trying to figure out how you would do what she asked of you. “Lay down, get comfortable.”

She complied, leaning back against her pillows before looking up at you expectantly. You cleared your throat, your mouth feeling suddenly dry. Mentally trying to shake away your nerves, you moved closer so you were hovering over her.

“Is this okay?” You wanted to be sure she really wanted this.

“Yes,” Wanda breathed out. “Now get on with it.” You both chuckled and the suffocating tension began to ease up.

“Yes ma’am,” you said teasingly, before leaning forward. “Um, can I kiss you? Or do you just want me to…”

Wanda blushed, almost looking away. “If you think it will help, then it’s okay.”

You smiled reassuringly and leaned in, closing your eyes as you pressed a featherlight kiss to the corner of her mouth. Pulling away to read her reaction, you noticed her pupils had dilated and couldn’t help but smirk before attaching your lips to hers.

You kissed her slowly and gently as if to let her know she could stop you at any time, but she didn’t. She lifted her head to deepen it, following your lead as she moved her mouth against yours.

Your tongue swiped against her lips to ask for entry and she opened her mouth in response. The first touch of your tongues together made her moan softly into your mouth and you felt a pang of arousal upon hearing it. You wanted, no, needed, to get more of those sounds out of her.

You broke the kiss to trail your lips down her jaw and neck. You kissed the skin and sucked lightly, avoiding leaving any marks. Once you reached her ear, you took the lobe between your teeth and gave it a soft tug, noticing the way her body shuddered beneath you.

You pulled away to take her in, enjoying the sight of her so clearly worked up already. Her eyes were dark, her chest heaving. She looked adorable biting her lip as she looked up at you.

Your fingers played with the hem of her shirt, sliding into the fabric to touch heated skin, silently asking for permission to keep going.

She gave you an enthusiastic nod and you let your hands explore freely, finding her covered breasts and giving them a gentle squeeze. Her breath hitched in her throat and you wanted more. Removing your hands for just a moment, you slipped them under the cups of her bra, letting your fingers brush against her straining nipples.

A whimper escaped her mouth at the feeling of your hands on her and the delicious sound made you throb.

You decided against putting your mouth on her breasts and sucking the sensitive buds into your mouth because, as much as you wanted to, you weren’t sure if she wanted to be so exposed to someone that wasn’t her boyfriend. This wasn’t supposed to be anything more than you helping your best friend solve a problem, scratch an itch. The last thing you wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

You removed your right hand from her bra and brought it down to just where her skirt ended. “Are you ready?” you asked, drawing teasing circles on the soft skin of her thigh.

“Yeah,” Wanda answered breathily. “Please.”

The sound of her begging made your head fuzzy, but you focused on the task at hand: giving Wanda an orgasm. Just the thought of what was about to happen made you undeniably aroused.

Your hand moved up her thigh, under her skirt, until you reached her underwear. You ran your fingers along the front of her panties, almost moaning at the wetness you felt seeping through the fabric.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, heat settling low in your stomach at the realization that Wanda was this wet for you.

Wanda was underneath you, so turned on from your touch that she was dripping and making a mess in her panties.

You applied more pressure, finding her clit through the fabric and rubbing small circles into it.

Wanda threw her head back and whined, her hips jerking up at the new sensation. “That- that feels really good.”

You smiled and stopped only long enough to tug her panties down her legs. She kicked them off and spread her legs when you brought your other hand down to pry them open.

Your fingers immediately went back to their place on her clit, massaging it more purposefully now that you were touching her without any barriers.

“Oh fuck, Y/N,” she moaned, her face scrunched up in pleasure.

Her bare pussy felt amazing under your fingertips, her clit pulsing and folds drenched. She felt soft and warm against you and you were already addicted.

You dragged your fingers through her slick folds, nudging her clit on each upstroke, drawing cute whimpers from her. Straightening your middle finger, you slid it into her slowly, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. You knew she wasn’t a virgin, but you wanted to be gentle and work her up to an earth-shattering orgasm.

She moaned at the intrusion, her throbbing pussy practically sucking your finger in as deep as it would go. You moved it slowly in and out before adding another finger, making her gasp and buck her hips.

You could definitely get used to the feeling of her velvety walls clenching around you, but you quickly shook the thought from your head. This was a one time thing, a favor and nothing more.

You began to thrust your fingers inside her at a steady rhythm, curling them in search of the spot that would make her scream.

You knew you found what you were looking for when she let out a choked moan, her back arching off the bed.

“God, that feels - oh - so good,” Wanda panted out, desperately gripping the sheets for something to hold on to.

You brought your thumb up to rub her clit in time with your thrusts, smiling to yourself at the way her hips couldn’t seem to stay still.

Your free hand came to her waist, pinning her down as you continued to pleasure her.

“You look so pretty like this, Wands,” you said, unconcerned with whether or not you might regret saying too much. “I can’t wait to see you fall apart for me.”

The moan that followed your words was nothing short of needy and loud. You couldn’t help but take a mental note that she liked being talked to while she was getting fucked.

Whatever you were doing to her, it was working. Wanda had never felt like this even when she tried to grope her own tits and slip her own fingers inside herself. She felt a tight heat deep within her, building up, begging to be released. Her whole body felt like it was burning, a delicious warmth that started deep in her core where your fingers expertly curled against a spot she didn’t even know existed, spreading out like wildfire across the rest of her body.

She didn’t know it could feel like this. With Vision, it started out as a dull pain from him entering her with little to no foreplay besides a lengthy makeout session. At some point it had felt nice and she could feel herself craving for a release, but it never came. He didn’t really bother to touch her clit, nor did he manage to hit whatever heavenly spot you were stroking over and over again, making her see stars.

You were nothing like him; the way you were touching her was unthinkable. She didn’t even know it was possible to feel this good.

She was close, so close she could taste it and she almost didn’t want it to end so soon. But as much as she wished she wasn’t coming undone so embarrassingly quickly, she also wanted it more than anything in the world.

With your eyes on her, dark and full of lust, your mouth saying things that made her even wetter if that was possible, and your fingers curled deep inside, she knew she was about to break.

“I think- fuck, I think I’m gonna-” Wanda tried to get out between moans and whimpers. “It feels so…”

You leaned down until your lips were nearly touching her ear, so close she could feel your warm breath sending shivers down her spine. “Come for me, Wanda. Make a mess on my fingers.”

That was all it took for Wanda to tumble over the edge into pure bliss. Her back arched and her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth hung open in a silent scream as she trembled beneath you. Her legs closed around your hand, trapping you there, not that you had any intentions of leaving just yet, your fingers still pumping slowly inside her as she twitched against the bed.

She clutched the sheets so tightly she was almost worried she might rip them but she couldn’t be bothered to care. She couldn’t even form a coherent thought as she rode out her orgasm, pulsing around your fingers and coating them in sticky wetness.

When she finally came down, she laid there trying to catch her breath as your movements slowed to a stop. You tenderly pulled out, making her whine either from the emptiness or the sensitivity, and wiped your fingers off on the sheets.

She hummed as her pussy clenched with the aftershocks, finally calming down enough to open her eyes and look at you.

When she did, she almost felt ready to go again. You were laying by her side now, still facing her, but what really drove her insane was the way you were looking at her. Your gaze was hungry, your eyes twinkling and lips parted to let out uneven breaths.

She could see in your face that you wanted her and she couldn’t remember ever feeling so desired, not even by her own boyfriend.

The moment lasted but a second before you were sporting a smug grin like your normal self again. “How was that?”

Wanda laughed. “Did you like… miss everything that just happened?” she joked, making you chuckle with her. “It was amazing. Thank you.”

“As good as everyone says it is?”

“It’s better,” she repeated your words from earlier back to you and you beamed at the compliment.

“Glad I could help,” you paused, trying to decide if you should say what you really wanted. “I think… I think you should break up with Vision.”

Her eyes widened, but she let you continue.

“You deserve someone who can please you like that all the time. And it’s really not that hard if they’re actually paying attention to you and what you like. I’m not telling you what to do or trying to ruin something that makes you happy. I just think you deserve better.”

Her heart fluttered with how much you cared about her and she didn’t know how to respond, feeling uncharacteristically shy in the face of a serious conversation about feelings, so she teased you instead. “So what you’re saying is I deserve mind-blowing orgasms.”

You snorted at that before answering. “Something like that.”

“Okay then give me another one.” She wasn’t sure where her boldness came from, but she couldn’t take it back now.

“What?” Your mouth dropped open in shock.

“I said…” She leaned forward until your faces were inches apart. “Give me another one.”

“What about Vision?”

Wanda’s face softened, her tone becoming more serious. “I think I actually am gonna break up with Vision,” she admitted. “Not just because of what you said. Although you were right.”

“That you deserve mind-blowing orgasms?”

She slapped you on the shoulder, laughing. “No! Well, yes, but about all the other stuff too.”

You smiled at her and couldn’t resist messing with her again. “So, about what you said…” You reached out to place a hand on her waist, gripping her hip with a smirk forming on your face as you leaned in. “I’m guessing no one’s ever tried to make you come with their mouth?”

Her breath hitched. “No,” she replied, biting her lip in anticipation.

“Let me make you feel good.”

She nodded and you lowered your head, excited to give in to temptation. As soon as she felt your mouth on her, she knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #bottom wanda maximoff #top reader #alexa writes

2K notes · View notes

wandasmistress · 1 year

Text

You Belong to Me

Request- Hello :) could you write Wanda x fem!reader where Wanda loves to tease R by flirting with other people and making her jealous so she flirts with Nat and R snaps, making Wanda suck her strap and fucking her in front of Nat to show her who she belongs to?

Synopsis- You and Wanda have been seeing each other officially on the down low. So when she tests you, you must let her know that she is yours, and only yours.

Pairings- Bottom!Wanda Maximoff x Top!Reader

Warnings- 18+ Content

Word Count- 4.4k

A/N- You already know I had to come back just to show some appreciation to Lizzie mf Olsen, happy birthday wife love u forever <3 This has been sitting in my drafts for a while(months), about time I got it out lol.</p>

*this does not mean im off hiatus, I still cant write a single paragraph for shit :(

➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

It was currently eleven pm and there you sat on the common room's incredibly comfy couch, staring thoughtlessly at the flickering 146” flat screen tv Tony had bought to lure more people into the living space to socialize. But he was wrong, the tv was so large that it managed to captivate everyone’s attention, leaving them astounded by its presence. So there was no real socializing going on except everyone gathering around to be couch potatoes for the next few hours.

At first, all you could do was helplessly stare at the screen, soaking in all the engrossing action-packed scenes and eye-opening visuals that had your mouth agape in awe, until she walked in. Her long deep auburn locks sway in all types of directions from her steady movements, reeling you in and taking your attention away from the attention-grabbing flatscreen instantly. The way her hips perfectly rocked side to side as she took each step closer to where you were, coming to a full stop in front of you while your eyes grazed over every inch of her faultless figure.

Your mouth stayed parted as you sat silently in front of the staggering beauty, staring at her with adoration, you didn't dare blink once afraid of missing an ounce of her alluring presence.

“Hey, Wanda.” You rasped out, taking in an uneven deep breath as you continued to stare.

She knew how you felt about her since you two have been seeing each other on the low for about five months now, fucking each other senseless most nights you caught yourselves alone together. By now you knew every inch of each other bodies but it still amazed her how much of a lovesick fool you acted around her in public.

You both agreed there was no point in telling the others because their maturity level was too low to uphold that type of information anyway, plus the constant teasing and jokes would make both of you insane. But if the team really wanted to know it wouldn't take much to figure out what was going on with all the time you and Wanda spent out of the compound together, talking secretively, eating lunch together almost every day, and always being close to one another. The proof is evident to those who aren't blind.

Wanda didn't respond to your greeting as she took a seat right next to you, awfully too close to your thighs, almost sitting in your lap. You sucked hard on your cheeks to suppress the urge to touch her to the best of your ability. There were others in the room although their eyes were glued to the screen, you still didn’t want to risk it.

Clint passed out straightaway when the movie started to play, he took up the plush velvet loveseat that was basically his from how often he resided there. While Natasha sat on an armchair to the side of the sectional you were currently sitting on. She was in your line of sight, her legs hanging from the armrests as she intently stared at the flashing screen, unbothered by the both of you.

“Hi,” Wanda answered simply with rosy cheeks, becoming flustered by the way you were staring at her, “what are you watching?”

It took a few moments for you to process what she said and then come up with a response because you were too busy caught in a trance staring at the way her mouth was moving.

“Oh, nothing- I mean just a movie.” You said quickly, your sudden rush in words causing her eyebrows to quark up and a small smirk to form on her lips.

“It seems like the only thing you're watching right now is me, precisely my lips.” She replies with a light chuckle, bathing in your attention.

But all you could do is nod your head subtly, looking off into the distance because of the slight embarrassment you were feeling. Not responding to her as your hand came up to scratch the back of your neck that wasn't itching.

In the next second, she bent down, her face mere inches away from yours as she navigated her mouth to the shell of your ear. “Don’t worry, moya lyubov'. I love it when I make you stutter and act like a fool with just my presence.”

The only answer she receives is a small smile from you and a quick nod. Her stomach doing backflips at the way she has gotten you the noisy, cocky, smart-ass to subdue into a calm and demure version that she adored. She admired every single part about it, the way your eyes would dance around her body sending furtive tingles down her spine, or the way you subtly licked your lips as you locked eyes with her which made her want to jump on you instantly and send kisses down your warm neck that she loved sucking on, dearly.

With her thoughts clouded on the only thing possible for her in this situation, which is kissing you she slowly moves away from your ear and towards your dry lips. A playful smirk appears on her face as she comes forward to capture your lips in a kiss. When she is a second away from taking your lips on you avert your head in the other direction, your lips barely grazing hers. Her eyebrows scrunch together as she takes her head back and looks at you in a baffled mien.

You stiffly get up from your position on the couch and talk to her in a hushed tone while bringing your hand up to her arm, “Come on, you know we can't do that here.”

A small sweet pout finds its way on her face and you quickly look away knowing you won't be able to deny anything she wants if you continue staring at her.

“Your lips were very dry, I wanted to moisturize them for you.” She told you quietly while bringing her hand up to the side of your face so you could look at her again, only then did you catch the disappearing grin held on her face.

But you quickly dismissed her offer, shaking her off. You touched your lips feeling that they were in fact very dry. You gave a quick lick to your lips to tame the dryness, for now, not noticing the way Wanda’s eyes quirked up at the movement. “Well, then I better go get some buttery popcorn to help them.” And you briskly walked off towards the direction of the kitchen not waiting to see Wanda’s reaction. She let out a huff of breath and muttered a fine then sat back on the couch, crossing her arms over her body as she rolled her eyes and looked around the room.

When you came back to your spot on the couch with your arms full of bagged candied junk and a big bucket of popcorn that you drenched in butter, ready to get your hands messy if it meant there was more flavor. You were expecting to see Wanda sitting next to your spot but instead the whole sectional was empty when you picked up your head in confusion that's when you spotted her; in reality them.

There Wanda was, sitting on Natasha’s lap, her position had changed so now she was sitting properly in the chair as Wanda was sitting horizontally on her lap, her legs hanging off the side of the armrest. Your fingers clenched tightly as you squeezed the life out of the candy bags in your fist. Irritation bubbling up inside of you fast, or was it jealousy? You didn't care to figure out which ones it was as you sat down grumpily with a displeased face.

You glanced over to Natasha and Wanda every now and then, seeing the way Nat’s hand was resting too low on Wanda’s back for your liking. Your lip raised in disgust as anger boiled inside of you, all of your focus now on the pair. You turned your head away quickly, rolling your eyes in the process as you glanced back at the screen, a cloud of envy overcoming you. Seeing Natasha be that close to Wanda made your skin crawl, she was yours, not hers, so why was Wanda entertaining that idea with a slick smile on her face,

Wanda could feel you staring daggers into the side of her head and she was enjoying every second of it. It was rare for her to ever see an ounce of jealousy pour out from you but she wanted to try something new for once and see your reaction, and she loved it. From the corner of her eye, she could see how your gaze stayed fixated on her. How your jaw was clenching and unclenching each time Natasha rubbed her backside and gripped her waist a little tighter.

She even made eye contact with you multiple times, staring into your pique-filled irises and she couldn't help but smirk and send a small wave your way, biting her lip to add an extra bit of pettiness because she knew what it did to you. All you could do was look away with a roll of your eyes, their intertwined hands replaying in your mind hundreds of times over, gritting your teeth slowly behind your closed mouth.

You tried to keep your attention on the tv and not on Wanda even though you could hear her snicker and whisper at Natasha every few seconds, the sound of Natasha's laughter adding fuel to the displeasure you were feeling. You sat bitterly munching on the popcorn that you no longer had much enthusiasm for, but it was something that was distracting you for now at least.

When you finished all your snacks and popcorn in record time you continued staring at the glowing screen that was not getting your full attention, your arms crossed with a grudge now accustomed to your face. But it was when a familiar loud muffled laugh reached your ears your head flipped over towards the direction of the disruption, you wished you hadn't turned around because it was an eyesore.

Wanda was chuckling into Natasha’s neck as Natasha’s hand firmly gripped her ass, by this time irritation had fully consumed you long ago and you were just waiting for the breaking point where you went erratic and now was that time.

You abruptly got up from the couch and snatched all your wrappers and empty popcorn bowl, flinging them onto the kitchen counter as you passed it on the way to your room. Your heavy steps thundered in the quiet hallway, followed by a harsh slam of a door. While you were in your room brewing in hatred, Wanda and Natasha had witnessed the sudden outburst that made each of them pause their movements and watch you retreat to your room with hunched shoulders.

A frown came to Wanda’s face when she thought she took it too far, quickly releasing herself from Natasha’s hold and sitting down when you had previously sat, guilt clouding her consciousness as she wrapped herself in her arms. She wanted so badly to go and comfort you but she thought you wouldn't want to see her face so soon after the stunt she pulled. Internally scolding herself for inflicting those images that would have definitely gotten her riled up if she saw you wrapped in Natasha’s arms.

While Wanda was still reprimanding her actions in her head while staring down at her lap she failed to notice you entering back into the common room, concealed in your favorite wool grey blanket. She only noticed your presence when she felt a dip in the couch and your chummy arm wrapped around her shoulders causing her to jump from the abruptness. But when she turned to look she saw a slick smile on your face that made a shiver run down her spine. Her eyes narrowed just slightly as her eyebrows pinched together in perplexity.

She continued to look at you in bewilderment as you squeezed her shoulder with your hand and brought her body closer to yours. She didn't question a thing and went along with the strange behavior you were displaying if it meant that you forgave her for her earlier incautious antics that she deeply regretted. It surprised her greatly when you proceeded to wrap the thick blanket over her body, hiding both your bodies under the large duvet, your familiar scent wafting into her nose. She stiffened in her spot, shoulder tense and mouth tight-lipped. She brought her face back towards the screen and faked interest as she tried to calm herself down from your peculiar behavior.

Then she felt your callous hands slide their way onto her bare thighs, her breath becoming shallow as she started to feel that familiar vibrating pulse that made her shut her eyes tightly and breathe in through her nose deeply. Just like how she knew what her lip-biting did to you, you knew how your touch affected her gravely. You let out a low chuckle into her ear at her reaction that you could never get enough of, tightening your grip on her slightly quivering thigh while your free hand moved the stray hair from the side of her face then sent a soft kiss to her temple.

She let out a soft gasp as her hand unconsciously moved under the blanket toward her heated center. The tension built up too much for her to properly function right now and she had to ease a little of it, at least that's what she told herself. You know exactly what she was doing the moment her arm moved under the blanket, your eyes following it attentively as it stopped above her center, a smug grin overcoming your face. Your hand was quick to move from her thigh and meet her hand at her center.

You clicked your tongue three times to catch her attention and whispered, “Filthy brats like you are always impatient.” You scold her with a sneering tone, biting her earlobe and making her shudder on the spot.

“I’m sorry.” She breathes out, eyes shut as more tension is added.

“It’s a little too late for that, sweetheart.” You hiss into her ear, a small whine releasing from the back of her throat when she feels your fingers rub over her clothed pussy.

“I really am, I really regret it. Please-.” She whispers out to you. Looking you deeply in the eyes, now it’s becoming hard for you to stay mad at her when she gives you that look. Her needy fingers quickly grip yours as she moves them past her pants and thong directly to her clit, “here.” She finishes off by biting her lip tenderly and staring enchantingly into your dour eyes.

You immediately remove your fingers from under her thong and pull it back causing it to snap back onto her aching clit, smiling as you see her close her eyes from the abrupt pleasure she has been longing for.

You bring your mouth impossibly close to her ear and whisper out, “Then you should’ve thought before you acted like such a dirty little slut.” A muffled moan comes from her as you wrap the palm of your hand over her mouth, silencing her.

She squirms in her spot, begging for your fingers to play with her down under again, but she knows she can't be too loud in case she attracts attention and that's what makes the smug smile reappear on your face. When you make eye contact with her, you so badly want to stop the teasing and give her what she so desperately needs when a small pout forms on her precious face while her eyebrows furrow together instantly, but you hold out a little longer.

Everything changes when you hear a loud laugh ring through your ears, disrupting your out-of-control thoughts about all the things you wanted to do to Wanda right now, how your mouth itched to be on every inch of her body. Your head shot towards the irksome sound, your eyes traveling to a very giggly Natasha who was doubling back in laughter.

You started to become infuriated with the way Natasha seemed to keep coming in between you and Wanda and out of anger, your hands squeezed like they normally did when you got too mad and needed to physically expel the energy. What you hadn’t noticed was your hand unconsciously traveling down towards Wanda’s center and encasing it in the palm of your hand, applying harsh pressure when you squeezed your fist.

This caused Wanda to let out a prolonged gruff moan that immediately shut Natasha up, making her head whip toward your direction. A conniving smirk appears on your face when you make eye contact with Natasha whose lips are pressed so tightly together that they form a straight line. While you're too busy reveling in the way Natasha’s confounded face enlightens you, you fail to notice the way her eyes trail to a still Wanda whose head hangs down as she pants with an open mouth while her eyes are pinched shut.

Natasha’s eyes automatically raise at the sight, her head instantly snapped back towards the now not-so-enticing screen attempting to clear her mind of what just happened. Your venomous stare is still on her figure until there is messy panting in your ear, turning over to see Wanda resting her head on your shoulder as she grinds her hips into your still-stiff hand, her movements quenching her thirst for you to give her pleasure.

You decide to indulge in her urges and cup her cunt with such vigorousness that an oncoming moan gets trapped in her throat and her eyes roll to the back of her head in gratification. The next thing she does while she is in this intense moment of nostalgia is bite her bottom lip firmly. Once her plump bottom lip pops out of her pearly white teeth’s grasp you start breathing again.

“Fuck, you’re doing it again.” You groan out. Your other hand snaking up her waist, her trembling figure tucked close to you again, “teasing me like that when you know I can't have you fully.” You conclude which makes her give out a hazy chuckle.

“Who says you can’t?” She whispers back, a little too loud, but you don’t care one bit.

This triggers a ferocious instinct within you when you hear her response and quickly move her hand under the blanket toward your crotch. Her eyes light up at the gesture and she bites the inside of her cheek as she feels a bulge coming from your sweats. Her eyes trail up slowly to yours and she licks her now dry lips, encasing your bulge with her nimble fingers that seemed to fit perfectly around it.

“Suck it.” You burst out quietly, staring her down.

She lets out a laugh in a response to your absurd command but quickly stops when she realizes you weren't joking. Her face drops in all emotion when she realizes you were serious, her eyes shifting around the room to Clint who was, no surprise, still knocked out, and to a tense Natasha. When she looked back at you you were nodding your head for her to do it and that was all it took for her to dive under the blanket swiftly. Her fingers already pulling down at the waistband of your sweats. It caught you off guard how eager she was to do this, but you loved it.

A smug smile sat upon your face at her willingness to do this in front of others, her fingers gripped the false cock as she inserted it in her mouth the next second. Bopping her head up and down, slightly gagging from the pace along with your hand snaking up into her hair and pulling it tightly although not enough to be painful. A quiet moan releases from her lips at the force and she looks up at you from underneath the blanket, through a small crack formed by the blanket. The sight takes your breath away, your lips quivering slightly.

The way she was staring so endearingly at you sent a slight shiver down your back, your hand coming to her chin and pulling up so the strap was no longer in her mouth, she didn't hesitate to obey. She placed her hands on your chest to steady herself while her face was inches away from yours, now out of the blanket.

“Let me kiss those pretty lips of yours.” You whispered softly, your hands finding their place on her hips, giving them a gentle squeeze.

Her lips teasingly came closer to yours, when you successfully locked lips you both took your time savoring the taste of each other's lips and not rushing the kiss as it was slowed. Wanda bit your bottom lips so she could have access to your tongue, letting your tongues quarrel together as you held her close.

Your scheming fingers trailed down her spine and towards her plump ass and sneakily went under her pants, passing her thong that held a large damp spot that had spread further up, your hands found her bare ass giving it a tight squeeze. She responded by pressing down harder on your chest, her nails digging through the fabric of your shirt as she tried her best to stifle her moan and you tried your best not to grunt from the pressure.

At the same moment, Wanda’s head found its place under your chin, her strong coconut-scented shampoo wafted into your nose which made you smile more profoundly. You took a few seconds to cherish her warm presence in your arms, and so did she from the way she didn't move out of the embrace.

Wanda’s thong and pants were starting to bother you since they were getting in the way of your hands fully grasping her, so you quickly whispered in her ear, “Take them off.”

Wanda’s head backed up from its place under your chin and she sent a wary glare your way. The pressure from her hands on your chest became lighter and you knew she was questioning if she should really strip, in the common room with others out of all places. But you reassured her as you brought the blanket further up her back for better consolation. She had managed to get out of both her pants and thong in under thirty seconds, surprising you when she returned to give a few sloppy lingering kisses to you while her hips ground down onto you. Making your hands recoil as they came back to her waist

Giving no notice to Wanda you wasted no time in shoving the silicon cock straight into her needy center, inducing a deep muffled moan from the red-headed goddess, and a slight groan from you as she sunk her teeth into your shoulder. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your own center started to be overcome with wetness. Your hips slowly grind up into Wanda’s soaking core, her tight pussy gladly welcoming the thick cock in.

The couch you were both sitting on started to shake violently from your intense deepening thrust that made Wanda see more than a million stars all at once, her eyes shut tight as her mouth hung open. Moans were the last thing to be released from her at the moment as she succumbed to her first climax of the night, you had plenty more to give her from her mischievous acts earlier.

Your hands clung around her waist, sure to leave deep purple marks. She spasmed above you, rigorously moving her hips into you to ride out her high. Your breath got caught in your throat at the sight of the extravagant beauty displayed in front of you, moving your head to the side to catch your breath. Not only did you catch the quick breath you needed but Natasha’s wondering eyes. A cocky smirk appeared on your lips as a single drop of sweat slid down your face to solidify her internal questions.

Eye contact between you and Natasha remained as you kissed the side of Wanda’s sweat-laced temple, Wanda still coming down from her high and attempting to catch her breath at the same time. Her uneven breaths became a soothing melody to your ears as your eyes remained on Natasha. A sadistic feeling clouded over you, telling Natasha that Wanda was yours without uttering a single word.

Your hips wasted no time getting back into action, your thrusts were deeper this time as you continued to stare down Natasha. Wanda practically clung onto you for dear life as her overstimulation made her want to combust then and there. Her futile shaky moans moved you to thrust your hips quicker and harder, making her much more vocal than she would have liked to be in a public setting.

Natasha was all too aghast to look and started to feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise from the uncomfortableness, she wasted no time in staying to listen and watch any longer.

All it took was one second of you turning to look at Wanda as she started to pant your name messily while burying her head into your shoulder. You could feel her perky nipples poking out onto your chest which increased your desire for her even more. But by the time you looked back, there was no sight of the stunned woman, a fiendish smile corrupting your features.

You focused your attention back onto the convulsing woman that held on to you for dear life. Continuing to whisper sweet nothing into her ear as she came down from her second high of the evening, cherishing the way she felt within your grasp. Running your brawny fingers across her back while gripping her enticing curves.

You had enough of your fun for now and wanted to fully admire her behind closed doors where you worked best. “Let’s take this to the room, shall we?” You solemnly murmured in her ear. But she was all out of words as she only nodded against your collarbone and brought her head up to lazily gaze into your adoring eyes.

It took less than five minutes for both of you to be tangled beneath your silk sheets, desires running wild as the fun truly began.

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lizziecanrailme · 1 year

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Poor little witch

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Summary: I don’t even know

A/N: This is my first smut, bear with me🧍🏾‍♀️

—✦—

The Scarlet Witch

A being of oh, so much power. One of the most powerful magic users in the universe. She can kill 100 men with just the snap of her fingers.

Yet here she is, moaning and withering under you.

She panted as you pounded into her at a fast past. Her pussy was so wet and puffy as it took you in. She gripped onto your arms hard, nails digging into your skin.

You groaned at the pain but that made you even more eager. You sped up your movements, leading a squeal to come out of her mouth. She tried to say something but it only came out as moans. You smirked at this, loving to see her being fucked dumb.

“You want something darling? You have to use your words.”

She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut. “Please” she croaked out, blissed by the pleasure. You took your hand away from her side and grabbed her face. Her cheeks squished together and her eyes opened.

“Please what?” you asked teasingly, your lips only inches from hers. You knew she’d have trouble answering but you didn’t stop moving. “S—slow down, p-please” she stuttered between moans. You pouted at her mockingly.

“Aw, the big bad scarlet witch can’t even handle a little roughness?”

Those words made her feel small and helpless. A particularly hard thrust making her moan loudly. She moved her hands to grab your shoulders.

“Poor little witch.”

You slithered your hand to the back of her neck. Bringing her into a rough kiss, her moans vibrated in your mouth. She felt herself coming close, the pleasure being too much for her. You noticed this and smirked, “Go on, come for me.”

—✦—

A/N: I cringed while making this

#wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff #Wanda Maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #bottom!wanda #sub!wanda #bottom wanda maximoff #bottom scarlet witch

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wmarximoff · 2 years

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in secret | w. maximoff

summary: after spending all of her youth trapped in HYDRA's labs, Wanda Maximoff had no contact with outsiders, and therefore never knew the nuances of human pleasures. but when a young amateur photographer travels to Sokovia, in secret, Wanda discovers more about herself than she ever has done before.

warnings (18+): mentions of tragedy, sexual discovery, masturbation, mentions of sex, voyeurism.

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

word count: 2k

A/N: guess who finally saw In Secret? lol

this is basically Wanda's journey of discovery about her sexuality and maybe her body as a whole. it's more of a character study than anything else, really.

|masterlist|

༺ᱬ༻

Wanda Maximoff couldn't have pinpointed with unerring clarity the first time that dazzling spark flickered in her fiery center when facing another female figure. When she had started to feel that peculiar way around someone like her – when her gaze had started to take too much of its time just scrutinizing the contours of rosy lips and gentle chins, lingering on the newly conceived idea of the fact that she wanted to touch – she needed to feel – something that she also had.

At some point, as in a summer breeze that comes in the form of an announcement of warm and restrained days, like a verging innocent desire to know something new, the curves of pelvic girdles became more attractive than the prominent muscles and roughness of stubble beard trails, when the softness and the fragility were enough to make her want more of that new idea. For Wanda, there was nothing of an assorted nature that would be able to attract her like that feeling did.

It certainly wasn't, however, during the early years of her pre-adolescence, all carried away in poverty worthy of the structures of a country devastated by war, that she realized this outlandish distinction flourishing within herself. A need. A crave, perhaps. Not like other girls, but for other girls.

At the time, the unfaithful hunger had allowed her senses to arise in no other way than to beg for something other than food to digest within the walls of her stomach; there was no room there to consume the dying butterflies of love, for the hunger was cavernous even when her mother barely tried to keep it from being so – her father worked to keep everyone pleased and healthy, it’s true.

But, at that time, there was a girl a little older than Wanda who lived in the apartment next door, next to that scrawny, tiny room in which she lived huddled together with her parents and her older twin brother – a room that wasn’t quite enough to shelter within itself, in four scraggy walls that barely prevented the frosty draft from outside, the size of a family of four. But they had a small television, a handful of old American sitcoms to watch, and a teenage daughter trying to make sense of the unintelligible.

The Maximoffs made it happen because they had no choice but to share the same bed to stay warm through the cold, algid Sokovian nights. When Wanda had to hug her own hands and only hope she didn’t die of hypothermia overnight.

The neighbor at the time was a rather appealing young woman, tall, typical of Slavic Europe, about nineteen years old, who had been babysitting her and Pietro some seasons before in the summer sun. She was a stunning image that captured the senses of a young Wanda at the height of her fifteen years of age, when things began to blossom like a rosebud and the notion of a child's world was slowly fading away from her cognition, every day a little beyond an ingenuous notion.

When she started fancying to have her own room and own bedsheets like the American kids did in these old shows from the last century – the pinnacle of the American Way of Life, a blatant lie for impressionable eyes –, realizing the unfair limitations of poverty and the true meaning of it in one's life, having lonely teenage nights to discover what hadn't been discovered yet.

There was a need effervescent in Wanda’s spirit, as if her lungs were crying out for oxygen to breathe. It was as if she was shedding her own skin without realizing that she was doing it; until it was too late to turn back. Wanda found the girl buried in the ruins of the popular residence after the second bomb fell on the building's terrace.

Only a pale, unresponsive forearm could be seen dragging itself out of the concrete and splinters, but Wanda recognized the silver bracelet buttoned to the length of her skinny wrist that had sporadically caught her attention when that pretty girl passed her in the hallways, always to offer her a fond, complacent smile that made Wanda's little heart, still so foreign to amorous feelings, flutter strangely when her cheeks heated up like an ignition in a fireplace, burning greedily inside her nerves.

On the lonely teenage nights she liked to daydream about, Wanda began to think about what it would be like to sleep next to the warm body of her striking neighbor; how the silhouette of her sinuous body would look under the covers when it was lit only by the silver moon, and how unsettling her sweet, honeyed scent would be when she bent over her straining guts. It made the hollow half withing her thighs quiver beneath her nightclothes every time.

Maybe she wouldn't snore as much as Pietro did, always so loud and so unkempt, or kick her shins under the thin blankets in her sleep. Her skin would be soft and delicate against the hollow of her calves, like a second mantle, silky and subtle to the touch. Wanda would certainly like to know what her sleepy sighs would sound like tenderly in her ear.

She was armed with the best of intentions when she took the bracelet for herself from that frozen dead arm (unlike the image her unconscious had become accustomed to idealizing in dream lines when flanked by the coming sleep, of that warm forearm encircling her waist and bringing her closer and closer) because she liked that girl enough to keep her memory close even after she passed away.

But crying for her parents, she didn't remember shedding any tears for the girl. She was then made an orphan, after all. She was a lonely girl, absolutely helpless.

Wanda lived to grow beyond the age when her neighbor was faced with the abrupt end of her life robbed by a war she hadn't started, and in which she would never be the one to end it. Even in an orphanage, crammed into a single room in the company of dozens of other little orphans, that girl in the next door still made her think and turn in the uncomfortable sheets overnight.

But she was barely twenty years old when she and Pietro (the orphaned twins then imbued with unusual gifts, Mind Stone energy pulsing in fiery golden color within their blood cells) fled the clutches of the HYDRA organization once and for all, after a few years of a poorly misguided volunteering that only resulted in abilities beyond what a normal human would have, the two of them headed into a world they would no longer see in the same way as they did before.

It didn't take long for Wanda to realize that she didn't truly understand the ranges of her new capabilities and how they shaped and transmuted her as a being, just as she didn't understand that ecstatic feeling that took shape, grew and expanded inside her like a crimson mist. The sun of her childhood had set, and it was time for something new to emerge from her insides.

She wanted to be in Pietro's shoes when he narrated to her, always so pompously, about the secret nocturnal encounters he'd been having with some girl and some other boy in the villages they frequented as they traveled across Sokovia with only each other’s company – the long journey only tarnished with a winding trail of experiences through the still shaken country, Wanda curious, dreamy and experimenting at that point among a collection of shabby maps, disjointed guides and fantasies late at night – every night – as soon as she realized that Pietro was falling asleep.

Wanda couldn't care less about the young man's summaries of what boys were like exposed in the minimal, voluptuous light of a dark room, indeed.

Just how they could be rather filthy when stripped of clothing and guided only by the will of their desires. But something in her craved to know more and more about how a girl reacted to being touched in a way that she had never been touched, nor had she ever touched anyone else before. How would it feel at her fingertips.

So she touched herself in the dead of night, in one of those where Pietro ventured out of their rented room, just rehearsing the idea empirically in her actions.

Idealizing the subtlety of a girl’s gentle touch even though her own probing fingers were amateurish and naively sloppy against the middle of the old sensibility that used to throb between her partially spread legs, so elusive against her panting skin.

There was something wet and pulsing that she brushed lightly with her fingertips, still testing, still knowing, but it caused an awakening of chaos inside her that she didn't want to let go of at that moment.

It felt good, as good as something that shouldn't be that good. If she was a person devout in faith, she figured, maybe it was a sin, because sins seemed to be good to taste. But there was nothing to stop her from moving forward, and everything in her screamed for her to keep going until that knot formed below her belly button came undone.

And then, in a rush of scarlet pleasure that sailed hard through her ruffled veins (her brow furrowed as if in pain, her heart racing like a marathon runner, her wrist aching in that newfound position of the tendons in her joint), with her mouth agape, Wanda understood. She truly did.

It was a sweet secret she had kept to herself. Something she secreted to the four walls of a dark room again, again and again. Everything about it, about the cravings of girls, always seemed to be something to be kept in secret – a secret that no soul seemed to dare to reveal.

A few weeks passed then since a new discovery, you showed up in her life. A photographer from another country, someone at the inn where the two of you temporarily settled down clarified the doubts that were circling Wanda's mind when her mouth opened to ask about you, a foreigner who just didn't seem to be from there – because you really weren't.

You were there to capture on screen the feeling of witnessing the pleasing Sokovian spring landscape, to present the result of a project and get your college degree.

Being a college student, then, you were a couple of years older than she was, but you were a new figure for her to discover and you were just as intriguing in Wanda's eyes as a foreigner could be. You, the idea of what you would be – what you could be –, aroused something exciting inside Wanda.

And she devoted her hidden attention to you like a believer who follows a god, always biting her own lips in a veiled excitement for the times in which you looked so intently with your camera and took a picture of some situation unfolding in your lens, preserved for posteriority in the light of your attentive gaze.

Wanda wanted you to look at her in that same intense way; that you studied her behind a camera and immortalize her in your memory.

She was like a red specter behind you on a particularly warm afternoon, heading into the scrawny beech trees of vegetation that skimmed the edges of that tiny village situated somewhere in the heart of Sokovia.

Like an animal looking for its prey, Wanda followed you along the lines of a shy little bunny, only being guided by the long pauses made by your sloppy feet, all directed to photograph the vibrant landscape or peaceful nature, some humming bird exotic in a funny pose.

Curly trees and elemental rusticities encompassed the natural landscape around you, a mist filled with the slow two-dimensional heat of morning hovering over your slow path, trickling through the tall row of trees clustered before the edge of a silvery-surfaced river like a long mirror.

You had taken a shortcut through the forest overflowing with so many emblems of nature and crossed the river before the dew, and at one point, amidst the vegetation, Wanda got on her knees (her fingers crunching fresh grass between the extensions of silver rings, she on all fours like a child still in the beginnings of that primordial phase of crawling, still not being able to walk properly) behind a tall pasture that served as a direct audience for you, as oblivious as you were just around the corner across the river, so far from the one who wanted you, yet so close that her gaze burned at your silhouette in front of a golden pool of sun.

From somewhere deep within that dark vortex, Wanda felt a new awakening of desire; so monstrous was her appetite for such a distinguish figure that, just a few feet away from her hiding place in the tall vegetation, you only raised your camera before your eyes and then snapped a well-articulated photograph.

Sweat ran in hot drops on the milky pale skin of Wanda’s neck, feeling so suffocated even under the damp shade of tall trees, and a hissing sound broke in the hollow of her parched, parted peach lips as she shifted position on the grass, the hem of the scanty maroon dress clad in the hollow of her crotch skimmed lightly against that secret place of hers reserved for lonely nights only.

“S-shit…” she moaned, half shivering, snatching her lower lip hard between a row of upper incisors.

And Wanda wasn't even at all surprised when she realized that, there, that nerve was throbbing, begging to be brushed again against the thin material of her secondhand dress. She spread her legs a little wider, fitting her pelvis better against the grass, the pale skin of her knees, then scattered here or there with small leaves and twigs, brushing against the grass mat down her inner thighs.

Charm and vulgarity clenched at Wanda's core when it was that she daringly rolled her hips forward one more time, in test form then intentional, only to feel the bun of fabric press against her panties beneath the dark layer of the dress. And it was good.

Then she rolled her hips again. And again. And stronger. And more exasperated. And more excited. And she rode out in search of what she already knew, secretly honoring you, that unknown photographer whose name she didn't even know.

Then Wanda lifted her clouded gaze, tilting her chin at a broken angle, the emerald green veiled by a shroud of sullen need that melted into the anticipation she'd compelled herself to feel, only to find you, right next to her in that bank of the river parallel to the one she was on, fiddling with the camera dangling from your neck, so absorbed in your ecstatic actions.

A nervous lump of hidden arousal formed inside Wanda's larynx – something pressed inside her as the notion descended upon her that you, far away, so beautiful and so immaculate, were just ignorant of her there, brushing nervously with the hollow of her inner thighs against the fabric of her own dress and the dewy grass on the ground like an animal in heat.

There was something bestial about the raw brutality that aroused her; Wanda discovered it there, snarling against her clenched teeth, watching you from afar, the knot about to burst.

“Fuc– fuck–! Fuck!” she grunted as that lump untied, her eyelids partially threatening to close against her eyes that would never dare leave your vision.

As Wanda rode, prolonging that vibrating red burst between her legs as long as possible, she never stopped holding her neck to watch you there, practically salivating, wanting it to be you there beneath her — she could rub herself against your hand, maybe your thigh, or even all over your pretty face.

And something in her shuddered, as you raised your camera in front of her face, even if so far away, and pointed the lens right at the place where she was hidden within the tall grass.

Later, the incitement of an impending night crept in, which dawned behind the avenue, between the tops of comfortable trees and along the green hill where the sun set behind the mounts, in the bliss of a due leisure, to which the moonlight of summer alluded to the amenities surrounding that small Sokovian village.

The candid air was clear, dewy, and humid to the lungs, yet a bit chilly in its European essence. The windows around the inn had all been closed. Wanda was lying on one bed and Pietro on another.

“So,” began the older twin, getting better under his covers, “What did you do this morning when you disappeared? I looked for you everywhere, you know? I was worried.”

And a small smile allowed itself to mischievously slip into Wanda's rosy lips.

“I can’t tell you,” she whispered to her brother, like a child who holds an enigma, “It's a secret.”

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lesbian-smart-water · 1 year

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walking in on wanda humping her pillow and absolutely sobbing because she’s been trying for hours to get off. but she’s no good without you inside of her. laughing at the poor thing while you fuck her because, “you poor little slut. only daddy makes you feel this good, hmm?” and she cums so hard after working herself up for hours

#subby wanda <3 #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #bottom wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #gender neutral reader

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 3 months

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bottom wanda begging you to let her cum >>>

"please? I've been so good, right?"

"fuck, you make me feel so good. please just let me cum, i'll do anything for you. just... fuck..."

"so close... please let me, I'm... fuck I'm coming... please."

Sometimes you give her permission, and often you don't. But, she loves being punished so it's a win-win scenario either way.

#charsgaythoughts #wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x you #marvel #mcu #wanda marvel #wlw #wlw smut #bottom wanda maximoff #bottom!wanda

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sytoran · 5 days

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PLEASE LIKE I BEGGGGG, make a fic based on sabrina carpenter’s lingerie commercial with skims IT CAN BE ANYTHING JUST DO IT I BEGG

espresso — w.m

you come to pick your girlfriend up from her photoshoot. things get a little out of hand in the changing rooms.

pairing — sub!model!wanda x dom!gf!reader

warnings — just pure filth, minors dni or block, usage of 'bunny' pet name

note — anon your wish is granted... this is me taking a break from writing hiwthi to come up with this short fic inspired by sab… i am not immune to the pretty blondes

word count — 1008

MAIN MASTERLIST

“Baby, - ah! - the makeup artists are gonna be b-back, uhn, anytime,” Wanda gasps breathlessly, as she’s bent over the counter, as you’re three fingers deep into her sweet pussy from behind.

It was a common occurrence to see you at Wanda’s rehearsals and photoshoots, and today was no different. You had come to the studio to shower your girlfriend in love, affection, and a croissant, but then you had seen her in that lacy, lacy lingerie, and then, and then—

“Fuck,” you growl, gripping fistfuls of Wanda’s pretty hair as she squeals and backs her ass into your crotch. She’s porcelain, fine china, and you have your tendencies.

Wanda would swear she tried to keep you off her, especially in this sponsored lingerie, because it was a brand deal, and she was supposed to be good.

But you were not good. And she liked you that way.

It was a Sisyphean task, considering just how handsy you were, completely disregarding the cameras and flashing lights when you had your eyes set on your girlfriend.

There was a moment’s silence when she locked eyes with you across the room, one behind the camera and one in front, and Wanda had to fight battles to not let start drenching the carpeted floor.

Your gaze was hot, molten, searing across her bare skin wrapped up in lace, and Wanda was a pool of gasoline that fed your will. She whimpered quietly, so quietly, when you licked your lips imperceptibly. She wanted it.

No longer had the photoshoot been paused for lunch break did she follow your retreating figure into the emptied changing room, heart pounding and already damp between her legs. It was no secret, then, what had ensued behind closed doors and cameras.

Wanda watched herself in the mirror through lowered lashes. She was being fucked within an inch of her life, bent over and manhandled.

Her mascara was messed up, stained, and the rest of her face was no farther from saving. There were tears pooling in her eyes, from how deliciously rough you were being, and her hair was already a tousled mess, all credits to your insistent tugging.

“I know, bunny, they’re gonna be back soon, hm?” you tease, voice dripping in caramel and honey. Feels like it, too, with three thick fingers drenched in your girlfriend’s slick, pummeling into that tight little cunt like it was meant to be.

Her hair bows are all undone, strewn across the floor. Wanda looks like the fashion of a tainted angel, crafted by your doing. Her panties are undone by the laces and hanging off the side of the counter.

There was just such power you derived, from having the infamous Wanda Maximoff completely bent over in submission, subservient to your command. You just had control over her, had her wrapped around your finger, and in turn you were obsessed to her pretty self.

“Gonna be so good for me, yes bunny?” you pant into her ear, groping at her hefty tits through the lingerie. She’s so effortlessly babygirl, all wide eyes and pink lips, shy giggles in your ear when you tease her.

When Wanda fails to answer you in due time, you snap the thigh highs against her thick thighs, and the high-pitched squeal she lets out is worth it enough.

“Y-yes!” she cries out, jumping from where you snap the material. “Be good for you, promise.”

You rumble your acquiescence, looking at her reflection through the mirror. It’s immaculate all the same, glossy eyes and glossier lips. “Good girl,” you murmur into her ear, pressed hot and tight against her ass.

Wanda moans lowly at that, arching her back when your palm meets her ass once more. It’s already a handprint-red, and you didn’t want to think what her managers would say during the photoshoot that would continue later.

They should know who she belonged to.

“Fuckin’ princess,” you breathe, trailing open-mouthed kisses across her pretty back. Her lingerie is simply the prettiest thing you’d ever set your eyes on, hugging her figure like it was meant to be.

At that, you curl your fingers roughly, and the near-scream Wanda lets out is sure to be heard by someone from outside. She comes suddenly, jet streams and white bursts, squirting all over your hand and dripping down your wrist.

She whimpers at the sheer impact of her high, bright doe eyes catching yours. “Bunny,” you grunt, ramming your fingers into her pussy, not letting up for a second.

“Give me another. Your cute cunt’s good for that, right? Coming for me?”

Upon listening to you, Wanda whines again, blonde locks getting tugged on by your impatient hand. Her eyes are watery, so pretty and angelic, and you a carnal urge washes over you to just take what you want—

WIth rough movements, you drag her by the hips and spin her around, setting her onto the counter with her thighs wrapping around your torso. This way, your mouths meet in an inferno of heat and lust, your prodding tongue intruding into her mouth greedily.

Wanda’s dragged out moan of your name gets lost in the squelching sounds of your fingers spreading her pussy open. You’re even rougher than before, if that’s possible, and it almost seems like she’s going to be torn within life and death if you go on further.

The second high comes in short bursts: Wanda writhes in your arms, all hiccups and tears, clutching the lapels of your suit jacket with your overstimulated she is, all your fault, all your fault.

“Y/N, please, please, please—” Wanda gasps, pleading your name in a mindless chant, flooding your hand. At this point, you’re pretty sure she’s dripping onto the fucking floor.

She comes and she comes and she keeps on coming, your hands all over her lingerie-hugged body, your mouth whispering sweet nothings into her ear, elevating her to a redeemed paradise.

That night, in the confines of your shared penthouse, sprawled over a King-sized bed with silk sheets, Wanda pays her due. She keeps you up all night — just like espresso.

reblog to support me n my lil writings

hope yall liked this little blurb, i was cooking a long fic but then i was tired so here you go

MAIN MASTERLIST

#sabrina carpenter #sabrina carpenter x skims #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #marvel smut #wlw smut #gxg smut #x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #sub wanda maximoff #bottom wanda maximoff #top reader #dom reader #espresso #espresso sabrina carpenter

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maxiroff · 8 months

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Thin walls ~ Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff

Summar: The tin walls makes it possible for Wanda to hear you and Natasha’s “night activities” and can’t help herself.

Paring: Natasha x reader x Wanda

Words: 707

Warnings: Smut, imagining of fucking with strap fingering and cunnilings, fingering, bad writing

Note: This was very rushed so it’s not that good and probably has plenty of errors.

When Wanda first moved in she thought she was lucky to share a floor with you and Natasha. That was before you and Natsaha got together and moved into your room, which was right next to hers. Almost everyday she could hear your “nightly activities”.

She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help listening. What surprised her was that she thought the roles in your bedroom would be different. But she was pleasantly surprised when she heard you for the first time and you were the one in control.

How you dominated Natasha for countless hours. Fucking her with your tongue fingers and strap. How Nat would whine when you kept teasing her, and how she moaned when you finally let her cum.

The more it happened the more Wanda wished to be with you. She would imagine how she could eat Nat out while you fucked her hard from behind o your cock. How you and Natasha used her as your little toy to pleasure yourself with. How it would feel to have Natasha suck on her brests while you sucked on her clit and finger her at the same time. Curling your fingers at the right time hitter her g-spot and making her cum so hard her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

And today was no different. Your voices through the wall started out as muffled and quiet but soon became loud and clear as time went on.

“Please, Mistress keep playing with my clit. I have been so good today.” Natasha was heard through the wall. “Oh, have you now?” You said in a deep teasing voice.

It turned Wanda on beyond measure when your voice changed. She had taken off her panties and started to rub the outside of her pussy before dipping two of her fingers slightly in her hole gathering arousal. Then dragging her fingers through her lips and up to her clit, circling it lightly.

“Yes, please.” It was followed directly by a loud moan meaning you granted her her wish. Helping her fantasies feel more real she would match her own pace to Natashas moans. Meaning if they stopped she would also stop, despite how annoying it could be.

When Natashas moans increased in volume Wanda increased the speed she was using to rub at her clit.

“Would you like to be filled up by your Mistress fingers too?” “Yes” “Please” Wanda and Natasha answered at the same time. Wanda was so caught up in her own fantasie she didn't register how loud she got.

Her loud moans matched Natashas as she started pumping three fingers inside her. She could feel how her walls pulsed as she continuously hit her g-spot. She was so wet she could hear her own arousal each time she pushed in and out.

“You're doing such a good job baby, being such a good girl for me.” Despite the words not meant for Wanda she took them to heart, also making her walls clench around her fingers and a knot forming in her belly. “Please can I cum Mistress? Please! I’m so close!” She felt her clit throb underneath her thumb and her walls squeezed her fingers.

“Cum!” And she did. Her eyes shut, her back arched and mouth opened in a silent scream. Cum gushed around her fingers, running down her ass and onto the sheets forming a big puddle. When her body relaxed a bit right after the peak of her orgasm she finally let a loud moan escape as the pleasure kept pulsing through her body.

Unfortunately the effect of the orgasm ended earlier then she wished and the guilt began setting in. After each time she felt guilty for her actions as she felt disgusted with herself. Quickly hopping in the shower trying to forget what happened.

On the other side of the wall you and Natasha were cuddling together enjoying the afterbliss. “How about we let her join the next time baby?” You asked in a teasing voice making Nat chuckle and bury her face deeper in your neck.

Whenever this happened Wanda always forgot one thing. If Wanda could hear them through the wall, they of course could hear her too.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff smut #bottom wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff smut

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chaoticstateofaffairs · 9 months

Text

FUCK!!!! YEEESSSSSS!!!! YEAH!!!! FUCK YEAH!!!! WOOOOOOOO!!!!!

#wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda imagine #wanda x you #wanda smut #wanda maximommy #milf!wanda #bottom!wanda #bottom wanda maximoff

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witchslove · 2 years

Text

Seven Minutes In Heaven

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Your best friend’s sister has hated you since the day you met. What happens when the two of you are forced to spend seven minutes alone together at a party? (College AU)

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; smut, bottom!wanda, thigh riding, oral, fingering, dirty talk, mentions of strap-on use, jealousy, slight angst, drinking/partying

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It was Friday night and as per usual, Pietro was dragging you with him to another college party.

You didn’t mind parties, in fact, you enjoyed seeing your friends and having some drinks to loosen up after a long week of classes. The party wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that Wanda Maximoff would be there.

Wanda was Pietro’s sister, who you’d met a number of times. And each time, she made it clear she didn’t like you one bit.

When you first met her, you thought she was beautiful. You even joked with Pietro about him hiding his hot sister from you, to which he made a face and reminded you that he was the better looking sibling.

Wanda made you curious. She was quiet, at least towards you, and you wanted to figure her out. You soon learned that she wasn’t quiet because she was shy, but because of her distaste for you. You had no idea what her problem was, but she was cold and dismissive every time you tried to talk to her.

For a while you gave her the benefit of the doubt, knowing the reason for that was your crush on the brunette, but at some point you’d had enough. She was rude and unafraid to hurt your feelings. You decided to avoid her as much as you could, tired of the butterflies you felt whenever you saw her getting squashed by her snide comments and insults.

You weren’t exactly jumping for joy at the thought of seeing her tonight.

Pietro was persistent though and before you knew it you were getting ready to head to the party with him. Wanda declined his offer to ride with the two of you, muttering something about getting a ride from Vision before rushing out the door.

You knew Vision liked her, but you weren’t sure if she liked him back. Part of you hoped she didn’t, but another part of you knew you shouldn’t care.

When you arrived at the party, your eyes scanned the room for familiar faces. You saw Wanda first, standing in a corner with Vision, far too close for your liking. You shook your head, trying to ignore those thoughts as you looked around. You spotted some of your friends near the kitchen and waved, walking towards them and fixing yourself a drink.

The party became a lot more fun after you’d had a couple mixed drinks and played a few rounds of beer pong with Pietro. You tried to push down the jealousy you felt whenever you happened to see Wanda dancing on Vision, grinding her back against his front while his hands roamed her body.

You focused on your game, eventually beating Pietro and leaving the two of you tied. Before you could start another round, Nat was announcing a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven, encouraging you and Pietro to join.

When he found out Monica would be playing, he agreed without hesitation and grabbed your hand to pull you along.

You sat next to him on the couch and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Wanda sitting in a chair across from you in the circle. Vision was sitting on the arm of the chair, not even paying attention to her as he got caught up in a drunken conversation with Tony about sports or girls or whatever college jocks usually talked about.

You didn’t mean to make eye contact with Wanda, but when you did you felt yourself blush. You looked away when she practically glared at you, trying your best to brush off the sinking feeling it caused in your stomach.

“Okay, who’s up first?” Nat asked loudly, looking around the group. Carol volunteered and you wondered who she was hoping to spend seven minutes alone with. When you saw her cheeks turn pink as Nat handed her the bottle, you no longer wondered.

When she spun the bottle and it landed on Valkyrie, you bit back a chuckle. The crowd whooped and laughed as Val raised an eyebrow at Carol before extending her hand chivalrously to the blonde. They walked off to the bedroom where they’d spend the next seven minutes doing whatever they wanted.

“Remember you’re supposed to be making out, or worse! Those are the rules!” Tony shouted down the hall, causing a few people to roll their eyes and giggle at his antics.

While they were gone, the group kept themselves entertained with gossip and silly dares. You nudged Pietro when you noticed Monica was sitting next to him, encouraging him to make a move. He managed to make small talk with the girl and you decided to scroll on your phone to avoid accidentally looking in Wanda’s direction.

When the two girls came back out, the group erupted in cheers and whistles at the sight of Carol with flushed cheeks and mussed up hair. Val followed, grinning smugly as they took their seats. Val only admitted they didn’t actually sleep together when Tony relentlessly teased them about it, saying she’d prefer to take her time with Carol and sending her a wink.

Nat told everyone to settle down so the game could continue before walking around the circle, deciding who to throw under the bus next.

You knew you were screwed when her eyes landed on you and she smiled suggestively. “Y/N, you’re up,” she said, handing you the bottle.

You sighed, taking it from her and setting it on the table. You swallowed nervously as you spun it, unsure of who you’d even want it to land on. The prettiest girl in the room hated your guts, so you’d kind of hoped you’d get out of participating at all.

But a small part of you still wanted it to land on Wanda, regardless of how unfairly she treated you.

And to your surprise, it did.

You wanted to sink back into the couch and let the cushions swallow you up when you saw her reaction to the bottle’s decision. She looked irritated and if you were reading her correctly, a little disgusted. If only you knew that somewhere deep down, she was just as nervous as you were.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said coldly, standing up and walking out of the room. The group watched the interaction awkwardly and you stood up, making your way around the table to follow her.

“Remember the rules!” Tony called out after you, earning a slap on the shoulder from Nat.

Your hands shook as you opened the door to the bedroom, entering to find Wanda sitting on the bed.

You walked over and sat next to her, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. “So…”

Wanda scoffed. “We’re not making out, Y/N,” she sighed. “I bet you’re pretty pissed the bottle landed on the wrong twin, huh?”

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Oh, give it up already. I know you like Pietro,” she responded callously. “Why else would you be all over him all the time?”

You stared at her in shock, almost wanting to laugh at the absurdity of her accusation. She sounded so sure of herself despite the fact that she couldn’t have been more wrong. Was this the reason she hated you so much?

“I don’t like Pietro, Wanda. He’s my best friend,” you replied, slightly amused by how much the whole thing was bothering her.

She rolled her eyes dramatically and looked at you. “Come on, Y/N, I’m not an idiot. And you’re a bad liar. You can’t even say it with a straight face.”

Now you were getting frustrated, offended even, and it showed. “Fuck you Wanda,” you spat. “If you’d ever even bothered to pay an ounce of attention to me you’d know I don’t even like guys!”

Her face fell at your admission, her mouth agape as you continued.

“I don’t want to date him, we’re just friends. He’s not even the Maximoff I want,” you said with a scoff. The last part came out before you could stop it, your emotions clouding your judgment in the heat of the moment.

When you realized what you’d just said, your blood went cold.

Wanda’s head tilted to the side at your words, her eyebrow raising the slightest bit when your confession hit her.

“I- I didn’t know you were…” she trailed off.

“Gay?” you finished for her.

“Yeah.” A tense silence fell over the two of you for a moment, only broken by her inability to ignore your other comment. “So, who is the Maximoff you want?” she asked, teasing you.

You groaned in embarrassment, your cheeks flushing as you looked away.

“Your mom,” you retorted, trying to deflect, but she noticed the lack of seriousness in your voice.

She chuckled before scooting closer to you. “That’s a shame, my mom isn’t the one sitting next to you at a party waiting for you to kiss her,” she said, taking you by surprise.

You looked at her, studying her face for any indication that she was messing with you. You wouldn’t put it past her to set you up in such a cruel way just so you’d humiliate yourself.

“You hate me,” you mumbled, trying to regain control of the interaction.

“I was wrong,” she admitted, surprising you yet again. “And maybe a little jealous.” She said the last part so quietly you almost weren’t sure if you imagined it.

“Jealous?”

She rolled her eyes at you again, but this time more playfully. “Do you really want to spend our seven minutes talking?”

“More like four minutes now,” you corrected, enjoying how easily you could rile her up.

“Oh shut up,” she grumbled, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in.

You’d expected the kiss to be aggressive from the impulsivity and Wanda’s irritation with you, but it wasn’t. While your lips met roughly at first, the kiss itself was painfully soft. You couldn’t believe this was happening when just moments ago you were at each other’s throats.

You ran your tongue along her bottom lip, asking for entry which she granted immediately. When your tongues met, she moaned softly into your mouth, sending heat straight to your core. You wanted to hear it again.

You brought a hand to her hip, letting your thumb slide under her shirt to stroke bare skin just above the waistband of her skirt. Her grip on the back of your neck tightened and the kiss became more heated, the two of you gasping for air by the time she finally pulled away.

Before she could speak, you heard a voice calling out from the living room. “Time’s up ladies!” It was Nat, probably trying to save you from what you’d expected to be an awkward and maybe fatal encounter with Wanda. Just this once, you wished she wasn’t looking out for you.

As Wanda caught her breath, she stared at you with darkened eyes and tinted cheeks. She looked even more beautiful like this, no longer hiding behind that angry facade you were all too familiar with.

“I guess that’s it,” you said, feeling a twinge of disappointment. You weren’t sure where you would go from here; would Wanda treat you differently now or would you go back to being her worst enemy?

Her next words shocked you.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked boldly. When you didn’t respond right away, she quickly tried to explain herself. “I- I just… don’t really want to stop… and the party’s lame anyway.”

You realized she was nervous. Wanda Maximoff, always confident, always guarded, was nervous in the face of asking you to go home with her.

You hadn’t expected the turn of events. You were sure she’d end up leaving the party that night draped all over Vision - it wouldn’t be the first time.

“I doubt Vision would like that very much,” you said bitterly.

“Who cares? He’s not my boyfriend. He’ll probably just find some other girl to bother all night after I’m gone,” she replied nonchalantly, thinking nothing of it, but then she noticed the jealousy and uncertainty written all over your features and she softened. “There’s no need to be jealous.”

She leaned in, her mouth so close you could feel her hot breath against your ear and it made you shiver. “If you don’t want to come home with me, that’s fine. I’ll just have to take care of myself,” she whispered, emphasizing her words with a nibble to your ear lobe that had your eyes fluttering shut.

Images of Wanda touching herself to the thought of you flashed in your mind and you bit your lip to stifle a groan before turning towards her and grabbing her hand. “Let’s go,” you said, dragging her out of the bedroom.

When you reentered the living room, Wanda in tow, everyone was looking at the two of you expectantly. Nat and Pietro seemed surprised to see that Wanda hadn’t killed you during those seven minutes alone, but they didn’t get a chance to make a joke about it before you were asking him for the car keys.

The group stared in awe, some exchanging amused looks at how things had turned out.

He was about to protest and ask how he would get home when Monica placed a hand on his shoulder. “I can give you a ride later,” she said, making him smile giddily as he fished for his keys in his pocket.

“Don’t make me regret this, if I come home and see or hear anything I’m not supposed to, you’re both paying for my therapy,” he warned, tossing you the keys. You nodded, chuckling, before bidding the group goodnight and escorting Wanda out of the house.

Wanda made the drive home nearly impossible, teasing you with a hand on your thigh and her mouth on your neck as you tried not to crash the car.

When you arrived, the two of you rushed out of the car and into the house, where you pinned her against the front door the second it was closed. You attached your lips to her neck, payback for what she pulled in the car, nipping and sucking the sweet skin as she whimpered under your hold. “Bedroom, please,” she panted out. You delivered one last harsh bite to her neck before you released her, letting her lead you down the hall since you’d never been to her room before.

Once inside, you slammed the door behind you and brought your lips together again, walking her towards the bed. When the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, she crawled backwards until she was laying against the pillows with you hovering over her.

You took your time, languidly kissing her and letting your hands roam, relishing in the breathless moans she let out every time you bit her lip or ghosted your fingers over her clothed nipples. You kissed your way down her jaw to her neck, looking for all the spots that would elicit more delicious noises from her.

While everything you were doing felt good, Wanda was growing impatient. You were taking such good care of her, but she needed more. She flipped your positions so she was on top, straddling your lap.

You smiled up at her and brought your hands to her hips as she leaned back down to kiss you again. Her hips started a slow grind against your lap and when you pulled her down roughly, the button of your shorts bumping her clit just right, she moaned at the friction. Her movements in your lap became needy, her hips purposefully grinding down in search of more. You stopped her for a moment to slide further up on the bed so your thigh was between her legs. “Go on, pretty girl, use my thigh.”

She whined pitifully at that, excited at the prospect of getting some relief where she needed it most, but also not expecting you to be such an impossible tease instead of just fucking her into the mattress. She started up her movements again, this time rubbing herself against your thigh, her jaw slack as she whimpered in pleasure.

You almost moaned when you felt her wetness against your skin, seeping through her panties and painting your thigh with every buck of her hips. “That’s it, Wanda,” you said, loosely guiding her thrusts as you watched her hungrily. “You look so good riding my thigh, pretty girl. Can you get off like this?”

Your words sent a wave of arousal straight to her core, where she was dripping all over your leg. “I- I don’t know,” she managed between pants and moans. “But I’m close.”

The sight of her like this was driving you mad, you could only stare in appreciation as her movements became more frantic. Her hands squeezed your shoulders the closer she got and you decided to help her out when you noticed the concentrated look on her face, her hips beginning to lose their rhythm.

You gripped her eagerly, taking over the movements so she could lose herself in her pleasure. Her arms holding her up almost gave out at the new friction, needy moans filling the room as the tight coil within her threatened to explode.

You were in awe at the sight of her above you, her face scrunched up in pleasure, her eyebrows furrowed, and her mouth hung open letting out the most erotic sounds you’d ever heard.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” she cut herself off with a gasp and a moan, her legs starting to shake.

“Let go, Wanda, make a mess on my thigh. I want to watch you come for me.”

That was all it took for her to tumble over the edge, hips stuttering against your thigh as she all but collapsed on top of you. She cried out as she came undone, gushing into her panties, and you greedily drank in the sight of her in ecstasy. You felt close just from watching her fall apart for you.

As she came down from her orgasm, you slowed your guided movements of her hips, letting her catch her breath. When she finally opened her eyes, she stared down at you with a satisfied smile before leaning down to kiss you.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, locked in a tender kiss, before you curiously brought your hand to the front of her panties, wanting to feel the slickness against your fingertips. She gasped, breaking the kiss, still sensitive from her orgasm.

“Can you go again?” you asked, rubbing her teasingly through the soaked fabric. “I really wanna taste you.”

“Fuck,” she whispered, feeling her body heat up at your boldness. No one had ever spoken to her so candidly before and it made her head spin.

“Is that a yes?” She nodded, biting her lip and waiting for you to flip her onto her back and ravish her. Instead, you tugged at her panties, encouraging her to remove them. “Take the skirt off too, I want you to sit on my face.”

Your words made her clench around nothing and she felt more wetness pooling in her already ruined underwear. She complied quickly and you helped her remove her shirt and bra too, wanting to see all of her.

“God, you’re perfect, Wanda,” you said, devouring her with your eyes. She blushed, resisting the urge to cover herself under your intense gaze.

She brought her hands to the hem of your shirt in a silent question and you sat up to discard the piece of clothing before laying back down and reaching for her once more.

You pulled her up and she swallowed her nerves as she positioned herself over your face.

You felt like you were in heaven.

Her soaked pussy hovered mere inches from your face, the intoxicating scent of her arousal invading your senses. She was beyond gorgeous, her exposed chest heaving with uneven breaths as you admired her swollen pink cunt, bringing your thumbs inward to spread her open for a better view. You practically drooled at the sight of her hole clenching around nothing, her folds glistening, her clit peeking out, begging to be touched.

She whined above you and you realized you were being horribly selfish.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” you said absentmindedly and before she could tell you to get on with it, you were dragging your tongue through her wetness, moaning at her taste. You didn’t hold back, moving your hands to her ass to pull her down against your face and messily eating her like a woman starved. You licked into her, her juices coating your tongue, and moved up to wrap your lips around her aching bundle of nerves.

You didn’t have to wonder if she was enjoying it as much as you were, because she was not at all shy when it came to voicing her pleasure. Loud moans and whimpers threatened to drown out the lewd slurping noises coming from between her legs.

“So good, please, please.” Wanda didn’t even know what she was begging for, too lost in the sensations you were bringing her from your hot mouth against her needy pussy.

She began to rock her hips, practically humping your face and spreading her wetness all over your nose, lips, and chin. You hummed and the vibrations caused her to let out a guttural moan, her movements speeding up as she neared her second orgasm of the night.

She was still sensitive from the first one, so it didn’t take long before her legs were trembling around your head, your mouth working tirelessly to bring her over the edge.

You brought your fingers up to tease her entrance before sliding two of them in with ease, her walls hot and slick around the digits.

“Fuck Y/N, don’t stop, feels so good,” Wanda cried out, bringing a hand down to your head and grabbing onto your hair for dear life. You sucked harder on her clit, letting your teeth graze it ever so softly. You curled your fingers in search of the spot you knew would make her see stars and when you found it, her breath caught in her throat.

Her body stilled above you for just a second before her thighs closed around your head, muffling the sound of her noisy moans filling the room as her release hit her hard.

Her walls clenched around your fingers harshly and when her thighs eased up their tight hold on you so she could thrust her hips lazily against your mouth, you replaced them with your tongue. You brought a thumb up to rub slow circles into her clit as you licked inside of her pulsing heat, her cum spilling into your mouth as she rode out her orgasm.

You moaned against her, making her flinch from the overstimulation. Her movements finally stopped and she lifted herself from your face on shaky legs before collapsing next to you in the bed.

You rolled over to face her and she looked at you with a lopsided smile on her face, still panting and recovering from the aftershocks. She giggled at the sight of you, your hair a mess and your face slick with her arousal. “God, I really made a mess of you,” she said, bringing a hand up to wipe your chin with her thumb.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you replied, moving forward to wrap your lips around the digit, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked it clean.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she mused, the visual of you so hungry for her making her feel hot and bothered all over again.

You released her thumb with a pop and she didn’t hesitate before crashing her lips against yours, sliding her tongue into your mouth and humming as she tasted herself.

When she pulled back, her green eyes were dark with lust. “I want to try something,” she husked, pecking your lips one more time before crawling out of the bed and going straight for the bottom drawer of her nightstand.

She found what she was looking for and stood up. “I’ve never… with this,” she said, holding a charming red dildo and a matching harness.

Your eyes widened and you found yourself nodding excitedly.

“Are you sure?” you asked as she helped you into the harness.

She laid back against the pillows, biting her lip at the sight of you hovering over her, ready to fill her up with your cock. She spread her legs beneath you and smirked when she heard your breath hitch.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

You felt yourself throb at her words and the last coherent thought you had before lining up the silicone tip with her entrance was that you really hoped Pietro found somewhere else to crash for the night.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #bottom wanda maximoff #top reader #alexa writes

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marximoff · 2 years

Text

déjà vu | w. maximoff

summary: as you slowly reconnect with Wanda, you feel a familiar feeling of déjà vu.

warnings: heavy make out, smut, strap-on sex (Wanda receiving) mentions of smoking, mentions of drinking, canon typical violence, angst.

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

word count: 10k

A/N: this chapter sure was long awaited (i know it was you horny gays) but before the hot sapphic sex everyone wanted (emo wanda my beloved), this chapter deals with a character study of both r and wanda, to understand a little more about who they are rn as people

((by the way, I'll be taglisting the chapters from now on, so if you want to participate, just say something in the comments

enjoy!

|series masterlist|

《《《《《《《ᱬ》》》》》》》

A carton of almond milk, a jar of peanut butter, a dozen eggs, a stick of butter, a can of peas, a bag of soft multigrain bread and a sizable bottle of wine are the components of the plastic basket that Wanda carries slung over her right arm.

She doesn't know that she forgot to get a can of corn too.

But the basket is kind of weighty and she might as well use her magic to levitate the items around her own silhouette, but she prefers that way, holding them down herself with her own arm strength.

Sometimes it's good to keep the sense of normality active. Even if normality just means carrying a basket full of groceries around the supermarket.

She then looks at the face of the brown watch buttoned at the base of her left wrist and checks the time, blinking her greenish eyes after squeezing a long, full yawn in the back of her throat.

A gray-haired old lady (Mrs. Sharon Davis, an elderly widow, all wrapped in her pale blue cardigan) in front of her appears to be in a conflict with herself to find some of the change interred in the lowest of her silver wallet.

And Wanda scrutinizes the establishment around herself, between the shelves stocked with groceries and the glossy linoleum floor; the weary gaze wavering absorbedly over her own white-fabric sneakers and contingently fixing on a dark, even smear on the floor between them.

Old Mrs. Davis still hasn't spotted her desired coins, and she's been digging into her wallet for the silver pennies for a good few minutes now.

Wanda listens over her shoulder as someone pulls into a shopping cart right behind herself and lets out an audible groan, evidentially annoyed at the delay of the old lady with her change, but Wanda doesn't see the point in bothering to torment herself.

It's not yet six o'clock and she'll be peaceably walking home, for Westview is a small, undisturbed, reticent suburban town where everything is so close and easy to find. And she knows that, with her house being just a few blocks away from the locality of the modest market, she won't be long in coming to prepare dinner for her and her boys (whom she has left securely at the house, both doing their math homework).

She smiles tenderly to herself when she thinks about Billy and Tommy.

After all, she knows she's never loved anyone as passionately as she loves those two little boys (the grace of her life, the reason for her morning smile and for the blaze of keenness pulsing within the fond fortifications of her warmish heart).

For her they are everything, and that is why she would do anything for them – they are the epithet of the purest form of love that Y/N had ever gifted her with; the culmination of their love converted into two vulnerable little creatures that are made up of the best of the two of them.

She just knows, like a good mother who understands both her children so well, that at that moment, the twin boys are probably watching some silly cartoon on the television set beside the broad fireplace found in the corner of the commodious living room.

And she is placid in a supermarket line, getting a whiff of the eccentric consequence of the odd combination of the full-bodied aromas of cleaning product and some sturdy feminine perfume – an even slightly nauseating aroma, kind of overpowering and suffocating.

(In some aisle away from her, a child is heatedly asking his mother to buy him some treats)

Wanda then ponders about making something a little special for dinner, and recalls about the delicious kugel recipethat her mother used to prepare in the length of her childhood days, back in devastated Sokovia, so many years in the remote past that encompasses the beginning of the disasters that marked her life.

The memory that gushes over her is sentimental and bittersweetly recurring to her core; she deliberates about the sporadic months of starveling and a small humble family of four, when her father was lucky with his sales and there was a sufficient amount of money left to buy the soldiers' leftover ingredients.

But then, she retrieves back to the years of her late youth, all lived in the restful caresses of the compound in upper Manhattan. She was still understanding about how to breathe without having Pietro to hold her hand. She was learning to live on her own.

She was coming to terms with the truth that living didn't inevitably have to be a bad experience at all; not when Y/N showed her that there could still be delight in the little things in life.

And it was Y/N who used to marvelously praise the dish when Wanda found comfort in the act of cooking, and she always repeat a few slices every time Wanda cooked it so long ago, when they were just two teenage lovers (and eventually also young wives, both living in a small bubble of love and companionship on the edge of a comfortable wooden cottage surrounded by dozen of yards of apple orchards).

There was the sweet virtuousness of the warmth of two young girls' lives at that time. It was the first time that Wanda was really fond of being young (of breathing and having a beating heart, of having a life to live valuing every little detail of it).

She memorizes the exultant smile of her ex-wife, looking so light and beautiful even while talking with her mouth full (a half-crocken smirk drawn to her left-side, like the smirk also articulated in the innocuous characteristics of her little Tommy after he was born, which reminds her so much of the radiance that used to gleam in the sweet features of her former companion).

Her ex-wife wasn't always a lonesome and distant creature creeping in the corners of her mind, and it genuinely aches inside her chest to remember that.

Y/N always devoured lavishly every traditional Sokovian dish she has ever prepared and promptly asked for more – and then thanked her with a chaste kiss placed on the pulp of her lips, which promptly evolved into the building of an intimate, sweaty moment with two bodies rubbing greedily against each other.

But she soon lets out a crestfallen, rather disillusioned sigh, repressing herself for having gone back to those secluded memories amorously stored in the edge of her brain in the first place (of the concept of two adolescent girlfriends absorbed in love in the purest sense of the word, emulating the seriousness of a relationship with adult bearing, but never losing, at its core, the youthful sweetness worthy of teenage lovers). Two girls playing love in a world that was a little too hard on them.

She glares ruefully at the bulbous base of the red wine bottle and then lets out a sorrowful exhalation.

Her relationship with Y/N felt like it was straight out of the old sitcoms that she always appreciated so much, where no problem was a genuine obstacle and that, by the end of the day, the two lovers would be in each other's affectionately secure arms again (and that perhaps she let have an effect on her a little too much, when dealing about decisions made early on in her adult life).

But then she reminisces that she was merely turning eighteen years old when she became a wanted on an international scale, and that, prior to that, she had also grown up in a war-torn country.

She never knew how to behave like a normal person per se – whether that was before or after she became able to expel bolts of magical energy from her fingertips. She never quite knew how to fit into the role of a child or a young adult in the first place. Not by herself.

There was no time in Wanda’s life to understand precisely how to fit these labels (she was protesting with so much loathe constricted within her heart, volunteering to save her homeland, being made of little more than a lab rat by the clutches of a bunch of mad men, being used by the being that promised her greatness, but only ended up costing her the life of her darling brother).

In the cramped confines of a bleak, sullied cell, with only a modest television in the corner to entertain her mind away from the needles and the brutality, there were not many allusions of love and passions that elapsed through her life outside a square screen.

Wanda was aware that she just mimicked other people's movements and transcribed them into her own actions, as if it was all just a show and she was its young star, trying to intomb in her core the path of catastrophe and violence that had always shadowed her closely; it was only the years of strict therapy, self-knowledge and self-care, right after being blipped and coming back, that edified her to be her own person in a truly healthy way. There would be no more extremes in her life.

Her cohabitation with Y/N at the time facilitated, of course – even though her wife had changed a lot in the time that followed since the blip, at first, things had worked out well between them. Or as well as possible under the anomalous circumstances.

The two of them took care of the (still) newborn twins and of each other, always with great tenderness and affection while they did it. At least that's how it worked for the first year after their reunion – until Y/N got into alcohol's graces for good, that is.

Their relationship had always felt rather light and jovial before Thanos snapped his fingers. And after that she might even have come back, but it was indeed her marriage that had turned to dust in that remote dreary day in Wakanda. In all honestly, she's not quite sure what's changed in that meantime that she's been away (dead, she was dead). And it's uneasy to ponder about it, but sometimes she does – she can’t help it.

Her corporeal existence had disintegrated into a sift of life, crumbling into her own ashes. There was color, and then the dreadfully wide expanse of emptiness (death); she, as a self-aware being, ceased to exist with just a thought and a snap of two fingers.

Her consciousness faded before she could even realize she was doing it – the palms of both her hands constrained firmly against the wound in YN's stomach that was leaking bundles of fresh blood. And Wanda never relatively questioned her existence before that (she only questioned why she ceased to exist in the first place). Returning to dust, as people of faith would say.

Five long years that slipped through her fingers and dripped onto the floor in the form of a veil of dust.

It still feels odd in her guts, even ten years later, to remember that there's a void somewhere in her life that would be filled with the time that was thieved from her by the Infinity Gauntlet. A void that had once been filled by the subtle presence of Y/N's love.

(Once, when the twins were about a year old after the blip, Y/N drunkenly knelt down with her face defectively reclining on Wanda’s thighs and questioned her as to why Wanda and the babies where the ones erased from existence while she stayed behind, abandoned like an old piece of furniture that no one wants to use anymore. Wanda never knew how to answer it, but they got divorced about a month later)

But she imagines that it, the crumbliness of their relationship, has something to do with the fact that they were both a little precocious in getting married before their twenties properly speaking; maybe if they were older and more experienced before doing it, she thinks, standing in line at the supermarket, maybe then they wouldn't have had the sorrowful culmination that they did (the crying faces and the broken hearts).

Maybe they could have risen together, and not just drifted further and further away as the days passed.

Maybe Y/N didn't feel guilt-ridden every time the twins cried in need to be held or fed. Maybe Wanda wouldn't have queried her for the love she no longer knew how to give – she is fully aware of the fact that she has always had a somewhat pushy nature, after all.

Maybe this, maybe that.

She doesn't know why she's been thinking about maybe so much these past few days. But it's not her fault that her ex-wife happens to be so pleasing to the eye.

The person behind her in line grumbles again, and there is a mischievous chuckle that reaches her ears with airs of grace. Wanda is sincerely considering summoning some coins with her magic for Mrs. Davis.

“Oh my God, this wine is divine!”

It is Sarah Proctor who addresses Wanda, the key to undeniably everything in this town. Wanda knows it's the other woman because a sudden pulsing urge to fade away takes over her nervous system as soon as the voice echoes behind herself.

She is the high-nose blonde woman who lives up the street, is a devoted member of the Westview Elementary School parent-teacher association (in the year before Wanda had witnessed her make a young teacher leave the room in tears after a meeting), proudly cultivates the most exquisite yellow roses in the neighborhood and wears a pair of classy yoga pants that would fit a young teenager with half of her age. A self-proclaimed wine mom.

Her daughter is a classmate of Billy and Tommy, and the children often attend both the Proctor and Maximoff residences – which occasioned in Sarah a vague idea of intimacy that only endures in the head of the blonde woman with bobbed hair.

She has already invited Wanda several times to Westview Pool Club girls' gatherings, but Wanda politely declined with an odd smile and a trivial wave of her hand, because she's never been the socially outgoing kind of type—and she's always been under the impression that every attempt Sarah made from approaching her were due to the fact that the other woman knew of her past as an Avenger (as did most of the small-town citizens), and so was trying to turn her into a kind of living-tourist-spot for the eyes of the rest of the world to witness.

(Rumors had it that Sarah would run for mayor in the upcoming election, and having a former Avenger as the face of her campaign certainly sells well with the predilections of the American public. Little does she know that Wanda won't vote for her)

“Oh yes, it's one of my favorites” Wanda retorts, talking about the dark tall bottle of red wine prudently deposited inside her plastic basket “It's been a while since I've had a drink, so I decided to buy a bottle to open this weekend”

“Some special occasion, I suppose?” Sarah articulates a suggestive grin, but Wanda just frowns uncertainly, half squinting at her neighbor.

“What- no, no. No” she flashes a half embarrassed, half awkward smile, chuckling nervously while doing so “Y/N is staying with the boys for the weekend, so it's just a special little thing for me. All by myself. A quarantine-style staycation. A whole weekend... just to myself"

“Y/N, huh?” Sarah raises a well-crafted eyebrow in a pique of curiosity “Your ex-wife, right? I remember seeing her at the twins' birthday party. I mean, she's pretty, yes, but she's quite the quiet type, huh...”

“Yeah, she was never one to talk much… but neither am I, honestly"

“A pair made in heaven, indeed” Sarah then flashes a smile, but the taste that slides across Wanda's tongue is bitter and kind of hard to swallow.

She shifts her body weight uncomfortably from one leg to the other.

“But wait, she's also an Avenger, isn’t she? Yeah, she's the one in the black and white outfit! Oh my God! Who wore a jacket over it and had that kinda mean attitude, all punk rock and stuff?”

“Herself” Wanda agrees, pressing her lips together in a long, clumsy line. She just wants to go home and cook her damn kugel.

“Oh my, how did I not notice this before? I remember seeing her in the news once, when I was in college. I also had a taste for delinquents back then, if you know what I mean”

Wanda feels a hot twinge high in her face and she bites the inside of her cheek in a rather timid act (but there's no denying that Y/N's somewhat rebellious attitude has always had a lewd effect on her legs as a young teenager with a schoolgirl’s heart).

“She and Black Widow, I think, saved the life of the mayor in that bombing on the Fourth of July in... 2015, 2016, maybe? Yeah, I remember that! She's the one who's super strong, isn't she? Who held up a scaffold once and saved those kids”

"That's her, yes"

The brunette muss in a limp voice, which seems to draw a slightly indecent laugh from the blonde woman with her shopping cart full of knick-knacks and silver hoops clicking in her earlobes. It is from her that the aroma of sturdy perfume comes.

“Well, I imagine that super strength of hers comes in handy in some… situations”

“Situ-“ but then she blinks just one time “Oh”

Mortification hangs over Wanda like a bucket of paint spilled over her dark-haired head.

She opens and closes her mouth like a golden fish, frowning, and her cheeks don't take long to reach strong shades of scarlet, glowing red like one of the tomatoes inside Sarah's cart.

It's inappropriate, and she knows it, but she can't help but feel a certain tingle in her breasts as lapses of memory enlighten her thoughts with the ghost of touches coursing along her body. Then she thinks of Y/N's warm, measured breath against her earlobe (of strong hands pinning her wrists above her head, of a tense, impassive hip against her own hip, of the cracked headboard and the broken bedframe). A movement and a moan. An electrical discharge in her bowels.

And then, fuck...

Just Y/N tearing her insides apart.

The other woman smiles viciously, and Wanda suddenly wishes she hadn't put on a sweater before leaving the house, because she can actually feel herself starting to perspire at the expectant look her neighbor bestows on her.

She's never been one to deal with such intimacies with anyone other than her ex-wife (merely some casual, unsuccessful and sporadic blind dates that's never been more than a few kisses and a few touches here and there, by no means ending up in her or anyone else's bed).

But she permits herself only to flash a wan grin towards the other woman when she realizes that, in front of her, the old lady has lastly found her damn change.

Fucking finally.

And then, with the memory still boiling hungrily in her innards, like a hungry beast devouring her from the inside out, she takes a large step in the other direction, trying to walk away from Sarah as humanly possible, as if the other woman carries with her a toxic cloud that sickens everything that comes in contact with her.

If Wanda couldn't probably get a nice lawsuit for that (or worst), she'd turn Sarah into a disgusting slimy frog.

“Well, I, I, I need to go, Sarah, but it was really nice meeting you around here. Bye” the enchantress raises her wrist, bidding the blonde woman goodbye with a wave of her hand and a small, introverted (half-awkward) grin.

There is barely time for an answer to be formulated on the part of the housewife. Wanda's cheeks are still red hot as she (virtually) dashes through the small supermarket's automatic double doors like a fugitive on the run. Mrs. Davis drops a coin on the floor on her way out.

ᗢ

You don't know exactly how long you've been raising and lowering the joint of your bent elbow above your head. It doesn't feel right to do it, just as it doesn't do it if it feels wrong. It's just necessary – it’s like cracking some eggs if you're in the mood for an omelet for breakfast.

You just have the fullest conception that a few good minutes have passed since the beginning of all the activity, and as in the rehearsal of a play, you are repeating the gestures until you overcome them with great proficiency and your culmination comes out perfect, from your liking.

And you don't bother to intend to stop doing it anytime soon – such a guttural, animalistic and barbaric action. At this point, the movement is already instinctive after being recorded in at the core of your memory, an automatic message engraved between the ligaments of your neurons.

You've done it innumerable times before, and you know you'll do it a few more times after this one.

You lift your right arm, lowers your implacable fist constricted like a steel ball, the resonance of smashed cartilage and wrecked bones echoing in your eardrums, all instructed by the figure of a bloodthirsty invisible conductor within the ramparts of your own cranium.

The face of the bewildered guy lying beneath you looks like a loaf of raw, misshapen meat as you repeat a cadence of sequentially delivered punches against his facial bones.

And he, who is at least twice as big as you, lets out a piercing howl of pain from the cavernous depths of his throat, as even a wild bear would do if attacked deep in a forest.

But in that alley on Long Island there is not a soul available to help him to get rid of your uncomplacent fists – not at the end of a passage that is unpopulated, far from prying eyes that could creep in your direction during the action which takes place there, a beacon of environment squeezed between two amorphous walls of scorched bricks, which gives the illusion of a single long, damp, narrow street.

A sphere of blood is clotted on your face, like an eccentric gemstone, a dark red pearl splattered under the arch of your left eyebrow. And you pant heavily, your veins stiffening.

You've never been one to refuse punching a motherfucker in the face – your forte has always been pounding up things, whether on the countless missions conveyed alongside your teammates or at work during your teenage years, taking advantage of your inhuman gifts to have something to eat at the end of the week.

You've never had a dilemma in whacking someone’s ass. Even more so when that said someone had committed a hate crime against a racial minority and got away with the trial, because that's the way it is in New York City.

The recurring metallic scent of fresh blood squirts in a jet of reddish color, thick and gleaming across your rigid, compact knuckles. The gruesome fragrance is no stranger to your sense of smell, and you're not quite sure whether you want it to be or not.

But it is what you are; as an inherent component of your biological chemistry (like the serum gushing through Steve's veins, altering him from inside out, or the magic pulsing within Wanda's core, changing the structure of her brainwaves), you know that hostility is a primeval part of your nature longer than the placid ends of an ordinary, quiet life.

The peaceable domestic life lived alongside Wanda is long gone, and desolation and wrath are your only roommates within the walls of your morbidly valueless apartment.

You've been living like a cornered animal for fifteen years in programmed mode, always exposing your fangs and your claws at any sign of danger, just self-destructing, dying little by little, not craving to exist for one more day after laying your head on the blandishments of your pillow and staring blankly at the ceiling, whirling through your usual drunken state. Just desiring to somehow wreck your imperishable body that can't be cut or torn by human hands or tools.

People much well-intentioned than you are long gone, and you, by some implausible probabilities, were (cursed) fortunate to have endured thorough all the catastrophes that life directed at you.

The car accident as a child. The blip as a mother and as a wife, as a friend.

The damn journey by the mountain of Vormir, in which three of you went in the grip of that appallingly isolated planet, and only two came back with a chest full of oxygen and life pumping through your nervures. The avid combat for proprietorship of all the six Infinity Stones, and the provenance of the final snap that brought back peace to the equilibrium of the universe by eliminating the existence of its greatest known threat at the time.

You just seem to live confined in this unbearable cycle of misfortune, and it's not fair to others that you are the person left to tell the story of those who are gone.

If only you could, you would swap places with the true heroes who gave their lives for the greater good. You would even be honored to do so yourself.

Your chest heaves and deflates severely within the molds of your leather jacket fitted around your shoulders over a short-sleeved plain shirt, your veins bulging with rushing blood, and you rise to your feet, setting up your knees, and step back to inspect the big man who lies defeated to the floor of the alley, amidst a pool of his own blood and filth typical of places like this — your jacket sleeve shimmering with bundles of fresh blood, a coat of gleaming sweat limping glistening on the beam of skin on your forehead, near your hairline.

He is still alive, groaning in a vital position, and is severely battered. And it was never your intention to kill anyone. He probably learned his lesson. Maybe you should break his legs, just in case.

A tremor rolls under your black sneaker feet as a loud motorcycle passes by in the distance. Sirens also pass presently afterwards, coming and going with their blue and red outcome.

But there, squeezed inside the claustrophobic walls of the dim alley, you are far from any possible intervention. You then register a single shake that travels along the outline of your left leg as your cellphone pulses inside the back pocket of your old jeans, shivering against your hip bone.

You take an elongated gulp of air before diving into your flickering pocket and hooking the device through your fuming, blooded finger length. You know your pupils are dilated and dark.

Your gaze is empty and brittle as you scrutinize between the digitally formed words before your motionless eyes.

Frequent bursts of oxygen are a method of neutralizing the pulses of adrenaline throbbing in the artery inside your neck. But the taste that slips between your teeth is acid and sour, and you lock your jawbone at the information that is cognitive to you.

Hey, Y/N. Are you really going to come get the boys tonight? I saw in the weather forecast that it will rain later, so I wanted to check with you just to make sure

(seen)

It’s Wanda

(seen)

By the way

(seen)

Yes, you know it's Wanda (your sweet Wanda, the trace of humanity lingering inside your icy chest), that she texted you. And it doesn't astonish you at all (not anymore), because not many people contact you lately during the sunny period of the day.

You two have been keeping in touch the last few days, after all, you told her that you wanted to be more present in the twins' lives. And it's not an untruth at all, but your sly creaking anxiety makes you feel like it's a kind of uncertainty inside your throbbing stomach walls.

Maybe it's not the right decision, the voice inside your head spoke. Maybe at this point in life they don't need you anymore. Maybe this is a breakthrough, or even the commencement of a calamity worthy of a Greek novel, you're not quite sure yet.

You turn on your heels and spin your back on the battered man, so you can send your reply to your ex-wife's number without looking at the ferocious outcome of your latent tantrum.

yup, your avid thumbs type along the digital keyboard provided on the screen of the small electronic device, i’ll be there in 1 hour or so. hope they like cheeseburgers.

And then you slide your upper teeth along the flesh of your lower lip, somewhat unsure of how to proceed.

try to enjoy your staycation btw. you deserve it

(seen)

You don't know why you sent her that stupid emoji.

It's not like you're a teenager reproducing a failed flirtation attempt with the girl you have a crush on anymore.

But a lapse of realism is present as your vision aims on the blood folds on your stinging fingers folded around the cellphone, and you feel a heavy ball of constricted lamentation taking shape in the back of your throat when your sorrowful eyes scrutinize thorough the lines of your hands and find there only odious signs of a cavernous viciousness (a raw, physical cruelty also reflected within the mirror of your shattered soul).

In the background, the man is still groaning in pain. And you're not sorry you broke him in a beating. No, no. You're just sorry for yourself, because you didn't bat an eye when you did it.

Vaguely the memory of Wanda placing chaste kisses along your hands invades you, and you realize you wouldn't want her to kiss your unseemly fingers right now (because you find her too pure to dwell on the filthiness of your touch).

The skin on your hands abruptly itches and feels dull, and you don't feel like having those plagued fingers around your children’s immaculate faces anymore.

ᗢ

The twilight of dusk breaks with the trepidation of an ingrained thunder, which rumbles all in a glow of white light that splits along the longitudinal path that comprised the pleasant suburb that is Westview.

So, this is an opaque afternoon resulting from the middle of the rainy day, gray and hazy in its chilly essence, with tenuous threads of a torrential drizzle protecting the foundations of the two-story house on the slopes of the street, making the dewy ivy rustle on its ground, dripping slowly from the eaves of the ceramic tiles.

Standing on the porch of Wanda's house, you ponder that you should have listened to the weather forecast when it was said that during the afternoon there would be a period of rain. Your dark hoodie is really soaked through and your hair, pulled back in a high half ponytail, is damp against the skin of your own forehead. You feel kind of stupid.

Compact, opulent, slate-colored clouds were uneven against the emerald green of the panorama of howling houses, hills and trees, like the leaning of thick smoke from a desolate fire.

A fierce storm, nevertheless, is not anomalous in the face of the oscillating spring climate of the state of New Jersey, which is not a real stranger to the rainy weather of the season. Thus, the nonstop drizzle is not the atypical episode of the day altogether.

The conquering event of such a rank happens when Wanda opens the door and finds you there, standing with your elbows dripping cold droplets water in the light wood entrance, and then pulls you into the cozy embrace of the pleasant climate established within that domestic environment of her own home.

“For God’s sake, Y/N, you're soaking wet!”

She reiterates, surveying you with an apprehensive gaze that runs the length of your head to toe, her slender ringless fingers still pressed worriedly around the outline of your right forearm tucked beneath the humid fabric of your damp blouse – but Wanda doesn't seem to realize as she's still carries with the action, and you kind of don't want her to let go of you anytime soon, so you say nothing about the warm touch tingling on your cold skin.

“Yeah, the rain started when I was halfway there and there was no way for me to avoid it, so I just went with it” you mutter, with a certain lack of interest smoldering in your quiet voice “Sometimes I wish I still had a car...”

“But you didn't bring an umbrella?” Her gaze is accusatory in your direction, the tone of voice sounding dangerously concerned inside your ears.

“Well” you kind of sigh, shrugging your shoulders within your hoodie, without looking her straight in the eye “You see, I, hah… I didn’t think it was actually going to… you know… to rain”

And then you look at her, and the exact facial expression you'd expect to find there makes its way until it slides all over her face. She’s pissed off.

“But I told you it was going to rain!” she then frowns at you, looking a little exasperated while doing it, her beautiful features drenched in an irritated tone of incredulity “Seriously Y/N, you need to listen to what I say more! What if you get sick?”

You flick an eyelid at the grumpy figure of a very upset Wanda standing right in front of you, exhaling aromas of tea and crimson color. It's funny how the pique of nostalgia slips through your bones – there is an air of familiarity when a subtle sense of déjà vu settles into your cognitive system, like the feeling of coming home after a long trip. You feel at home. You feel belonging.

This image is very cherished to your spirit, and you can't help but to articulate a small grin that feels light in your heart in front of your ex-wife, who then aims towards your gaze with a gleam that is an assortment of misunderstanding and irritability flickering in the greenish irises, the color that look like two emerald stones embedded within her eyeballs, curving a single one of her sharp dark eyebrows in an high arching cut.

You feel married to her again for half a fraction of a second – it's like your remote newlywed routine all over again. And the feeling is actually good.

She looks so pretty. It's like you could kiss her lips right there.

“What? What's so funny?”

Wanda questions you in an almost petulant way, and you let out a pleasant chuckle as she tilts her head slightly to the side of her right elbow, her chin pointing toward the tip of your nose – her typical irritating movement as the harbinger of an angry reaction to anything that troubles her spirit.

“You know I'm physically incapable of getting sick, don't you?” you declare, still with a smile carved along the outline of your own lips, and Wanda crosses her forearms close to her chest in an even vaguely embarrassed way in front of you.

She was always a stubborn bratty type anyways.

“It's that super durability mutant thing or some shit like that. At least that's what Banner told me once, and he's a smart guy, so I believe him” you casually shrug, “I haven't had a cold since I was, like, thirteen. Shit, I don't even know if I remember what it's like anymore. You don't have to worry about me, Wanda"

“W-well,” she exasperated in a timidly cute way, even a little childish in essence, pressing her open palms against the sides of her hips well-guarded by a pair of pale mom jeans – the attire so far from the miniskirts and chains and torn clothes she used to wear when she was younger, at the apex of her mean girl phase.

Today isn't the first time you've noticed that her waist got wider as a result of the prudent ripening endowments of late adulthood blossoming into her beautiful body-type. It suits her well. You want to touch her skin through the fabric of those flimsy jeans and the thin white cotton blouse; your fingers itch to do it.

“Just because you don't get sick like other people it doesn’t mean you can walk around in the rain whenever you feel like it. You look like a wet dog right now, you know”

“Alright, alright, I get it” you raise both your hands to shoulder height in a placid gesture of surrender “No more walks in the rain”

“You're impossible, Y/N” she then rolls her green eyes into their sockets, but you just smirk jokily at her reaction.

It only takes a nonchalant magical flutter of Wanda's wrist, with her right five fingers all enveloped in a fading mist of crimson steam, for the well-versed witch to make your garments still swell on your body, expelling from the bristles of fabric, as even in a chemical separation reaction, the water molecules that soaked them in the first place.

It's like a huge hair dryer blowing hot air the entire length of your body and then unexpectedly stopping as if pulled from the socket, making your skin temperature pleasant again like a sunny embrace all around your body.

You find yourself dry in a matter of seconds, from your socks to your underwear, thanks to her remarkable magical gifts.

The tingles consequential from the scarlet mist touching your skin still slither down the length of your body. It is familiar and eccentrically comforting – it's like eating again a candy that you used to eat during the preludes of your childhood; tastes like home and happiness.

“You know what, your powers come in handy sometimes, I’ll give you that” you say in a mocking tone of voice, and she raises a single eyebrow in response.

"I'm still considering throwing you out for dripping water on my carpet, just so you know"

Wanda just casts a weary glance in your direction, but there's a slight lighthearted tone that resides in the green outline of her graceful irises, as if an inside joke has taken hold between you two.

She smiles, and so do you, because you feel comfortable while doing it – a pair of complicit grins from someone whose chest is filled of joy and fullness. The atmosphere that sets in is comfortable, and you feel more relaxed being close to her.

You don't really do it, but it feels like your fingers are entwined with the fingers of her own hand – the specter of touch is written between the two of you, and it's as if your soul can really feel hers at its core, like two magnets that can't stop attracting each other instantaneously. You've always gravitated towards Wanda's overwhelming presence, and things won't be any different now.

“Come on, the boys are watching cartoons in the living room” Wanda says, then turning her back on you so that you follow her lead to the intimates of the house, “You can stay until the rain stops”

You follow after your ex-wife without further circumlocution, the two of you passing through the small and comfy entrance hall as you go after Wanda into the large rectangular living room, your hands always tucked inside the single pocket of your hoodie as you accompany her with phlegmatic steps in your essence.

Your shoulders feel even lighter as she turns to you and casually offers you the sweetest smile you've ever seen in your life.

Torrential rain is still pouring down from the sky outside the house, and the boys Billy and Tommy can be seen wearing warm, comfortable clothes, both the twins snuggled up against the back of the gray linen sofa, their little smart eyes looking smilingly at each other’s faces and not towards the television screen, where some cartoon that seems unfamiliar to you is shown.

They seem to share some secret that only two people with some primal connection as to what unites them would be able to do it, but the sounds of banter irrigated in the air of childish shenanigans reveals the mockery between their giggles.

They are brothers and they are twins, yes, two parts of a whole, born of the same womb that they shared from the beginning of their existence as two living beings, but you were always a little happier to realize the closeness established in the friendship between your children. Billy and Tommy are each other's best friends.

The pair then seem to make themselves aware of the presence of their two mothers as they enter the room, and the smiles of both children scintillate in enthusiasm as the pairs of eyes look up and acknowledge your appearance a little further behind Wanda's still figure, following her very closely, ceasing the small section of chitchats they had between the two of them.

"Mom!"

"Mommy!"

From the sofa the boys joyfully call out to you, beaming in your direction. You can't help but do the same to them.

“Hey, my demons spawn. What are you up to there, huh?”

“We were preparing something! Okay, so, mom,” Billy speaks in response, barely seeming to be able to contain the glee of excitement inside his tiny body.

"Listen to this-!" Tommy complements his brother's phrase, in a tone of enthusiastic anticipation.

"Hey, I want to start it!" but the other twin intervenes promptly, almost indignantly.

Tommy frowns, turning up his freckled little nose towards a rather annoyed Billy, who is sitting next to his left elbow. The little boy briefly tilts his head to the left side towards his brother, and you know you've seen similar action in Wanda's characteristic mannerisms.

“No, I want to start it!”

"I want to start it!"

“But I want to start it!”

“I want to start it!”

“Why don't you both” Wanda then promptly interferes with the small disagreement between the boys, increasing her mother's reproachful tone of voice a little, preventing, at the beginning, that the intrigue takes a somewhat bigger proportions “Start it together?”

“Yeah” you support her in a complacent tone of voice “You two came up with the idea together, so the right thing would be to do it together too. Whatever it is, I mean”

"Okay"

"Okay..."

The two of them mutter almost in almost defeated tune, fidgeting together on the couch. You think that they look cute while they're there, tiny and sitting like two baby rabbits.

"You ready?" Billy questions in a low voice, turning to the brother beside him.

“Yeah” Tommy mussed back, nodding in agreement.

“Okay,” says Billy then, almost proudly, “Three, two, one, go”

And then, you can barely contain a smirk when the boys, in different and discrepant voice tones, begin a silly chant in their thin children's voices. In the corner of your peripheral vision, you notice that Wanda also lets out an amorous smile, melting into a comfortable puddle of kindness, dying in love with her two singing little children sitting across from the two of you.

“We like ice cream like any child should” they hum together, vocalizing playful tones as they proceed through the song's component words, “And if we get some ice cream, we pro-mise to be… good!”

Then they look towards the two of you, displaying expectant smiles written all over their childish faces. And you and Wanda exchange glances, and the smile she offers you is very similar to the one that graces the curve of Billy's lips.

"Nice try, smarty-pants, but you haven't even had dinner yet"

“But mama” Tommy replies in a pleading tone of voice “We really want ice cream!”

“Yes, we want ice cream!” exclaims Billy in agreement "We can't wait!"

“Well, we can have dinner first, then ice cream. What do you guys think?" you offer them, your eyes darting towards Wanda's face "But you need to have dinner first to grow to be strong and healthy, and ice cream is for dessert only. Right, mama?"

Wanda looks in your direction, and then smiles. And you smile back, because the situation is prone to do so. You, for the first time in so long, feel welcomed and hassle-free in the presence of others.

The air inside the house is blissful and warm, so unlike your empty, disdainful apartment forgotten somewhere on the West Side of Midtown Manhattan. Wanda doesn't feel like your ex-wife right now – at least, that's not how she looks at you.

“Right” her eyes flash pale green beams towards you “Let's have dinner first, mommy”

ᗢ

You wake up in the middle of the night, but maybe you just haven't fallen asleep at all.

The sheets that grace the bottom of your body are soft and comfortable, and the pajama set you wear is not your property. It's late in the course of the long night, and like so many that have passed before this one, you just know you wouldn't be able to rest your relaxation anytime soon.

How could you even do it? Perhaps you stayed longer than you realized detailing the gloomy ceiling of Wanda's guest room, counting in your mind as you scrutinized every passing second so that you still had control over something (time being something), so that you wouldn't go mad at being dismembered alive by each of your own inner demons.

If the beginning of the night was watered in jubilation and a serene comforting coziness on your part, the firstfruits of the dawn soon came to frustrate you in the form of intrusive thoughts quite harmful to your twisted mental health.

The torrential rain didn't stop anytime soon, and after having dinner with Wanda and the boys (in a very warm congregation, you were sitting at the table with your family, eating the same food as them and breathing the same oxygen, always supported by grins of pleasure as you chatted eagerly with each other), and the twins were slow to fall asleep after two generous mugs of chocolate mint ice cream each.

Your ex-wife insisted that you stay for the night after the two of you carried them upstairs and deposited them in their respective tidy beds, showering each of them with chaste kisses to the tops of their childish heads – Wanda's little staycation was long-forgotten by then.

You let out a disturbed sigh, both palms of your hands polishing the length of the dull face of yours.

What the fuck, you think, what the fuck are you doing there? This may even be your family, but this is not your house. It's not your home. Not anymore.

Reverberating through your insides you find the throttling need for a drag of a cigarette eating away at the bottom of your lungs like a harmful parasite sucking the life from its source, and then you get up to do it, because lying down feels like it consumes you from within in a profuse haze of bubbling anxiety that bursts from your stomach to your mouth, making you feel so weak inside.

It has always struck you as a somewhat ironic cynicism on the part of the universe that you, who are possessed of an impenetrable shell on the outside, suffer so much from the brittle fragility of your own interior – hard skin does nothing to protect a broken mind.

The lavender bedclothes had begun to tighten the muscle in your neck after a while, and in the room just down the hall, you assume Wanda sleeps comfortably cuddling in her bed.

When searching inside the single pocket of your hoodie, the well-folded garment on top of a plain desk in the corner of the room, soaked in the darkness of the shadowy environment, the absconse pack of cigarettes from a brand that you are quite familiar with, that keeps you company in the acrimonious moments of solitude, you take a single cylindrical unit towards the spaces open to your drooping mouth and then you find the cold lighter with your fingertips, leaving for the entrance door of the room offered to you by your ex-wife.

After descending the stairs, stepping one step at a time with your bare feet, you are surprised that the door leading to the backyard is already open before you are even there, and the cold night wind has blown inside the house like a curious, invisible animal, installing an icy feeling of dysphoria within the broad walls.

But before you could search with your watchful eye for some intruder who went beyond the icy specter of the night, in avid state of alert, you notice an apollonian silhouette hunched outside, sitting on the step outside the door, with a long waterfall of soft hair in the color of a raven's down running halfway down her spine.

The restlessness that weighed heavily on your shoulders eased as the familiar full-bodied scent of hibiscus tea mixed with the sweetness of a mild strawberry shampoo slithered into your nostrils and filled your lungs thirsty for smoke and tobacco.

As you approach, you see that Wanda, wearing a sheer silk robe over a red nightgown, is accompanied by a large cup that exhales small clouds of steam, with the tiny bundle that carries the tea herbs submerged into the hot water inside the dark container.

"You really have loud thoughts" Wanda's small, soft voice ripples through the air and then hugs your body as your ex-wife turns toward you with a lingering slowness that, to you, is as familiar as the taste of your unsmoked cigarette.

Her eyes glow an intoxicating green hue amid the darkness of the night, only supported by the silver light of the moonlight coming from outside the residence.

You feel like a frog being studied on a silver platter in some high school biology class.

Wanda's diligent gaze always seemed to be able to penetrate through the cracks of your soul – she always understood you as if she were an expert when dealing with any subject concerning you.

You let out an uneasy sigh, oddly scratching the inside of your throat as you do.

"Sorry if I woke you up, it wasn't... it wasn't my... intention"

“It’s okay” she mumbles serenely over a sip of hot tea, the pulp of her nacarine lips being moistened by the hot liquid she's ingested.

“I still haven't been able to sleep anyway”

And it's no surprise to you, because you slept and woke up next to this woman for several of the component years of your life span, and it was always well known to you that Wanda is a woman quite affected by long sleepless nights, not being able to afford to actually close her eyes and be fortunate enough to have a good night's sleep.

Countless were the nights turned to morning dawns, when you both resided under the same roof in the compound back at the Avengers Tower, so many years before you were there, standing in the middle of her kitchen, silently watching her perform the simple act of drinking tea at her backyard door.

“Still having trouble sleeping?”

“Once in a while”

Wanda answers you, and with her eyes she indicates the empty space next to her right elbow so you can sit there.

“Sometimes I need to relearn how to sleep all by myself”

Without saying a word, you cross the entire length of the kitchen, passing by the island and the marble sink, to be seated on the marble step that freezes your warm skin, next to the woman who smells of hibiscus with strawberries and deep scarlet tones.

Her eyes recognize the figure of the unsmoked cigarette between your fingers, unlit and forgotten like the insignificant little rolled-up tobacco paper that it is, and then she looks toward the profile of your silhouette, blinking once with her thick eyelashes as she does so.

“You start smoking again?”

“Yeah, it's been a while, actually. Not that I'm proud of it”

Your gaze shifts to the small cylinder, turning it between the digits of your index and middle fingers of your tender right hand.

“That shit helps me calm down, I guess. Or at least I like to think so. I don’t know"

Silence touches both of you shoulders, and there is a moment for Wanda to sip more of the tea that has spilled into her cup. When the drink is gone, then all the way into her stomach, she places the container on the floor, close to her left ankle like a tame kitten, safe from her company.

You are still hesitating in the uncertainty of whether or not to light up that damned tempting cigarette.

“Earlier today,” she begins, immediately drawing your attention to her pretty face, and you're met with her pink lip as she clamps her upper teeth over the contour of her wet mouth.

“You and me and the boys... it was good. They like having you around. And I... I like it too, Y/N”

She hums in the sigh of the night. You feel a crackling feeling swelling inside your swollen chest, but you don't say anything in sequence, because it's Wanda who continues to converse in the silver moonlight.

“I had forgotten what it was like. Me and you acting like family. It's good, It’s… really good"

You choke relatively. For Wanda, a heartbeat rumbled in her ears. And then she looks at you, and you look at her.

And suddenly, you don't want to light that cigarette anymore – because she leans her chin forward, leaning her head towards you, and you do the same when your body cries out for her, lips colliding in midair like the consolidation of a wish, a scarlet fever supernova bursting within your own chest.

And then, the full-bodied freshness of hibiscus darts into the half-open breach in the gap between your lips, pressing a velvety tongue against the slit between your teeth, discharging into your mouth a red-sour-sweet flavor, definitely good though, but rougher than usual as the two of you now share a needy, somewhat sloppy, even animalistic kiss.

Even if there is indeed a need on Wanda's part, and you just need someone to scare you away from the evil inside your head.

Your ex-wife, in a thoughtless act, dives with her clever hands into the thin fabric of the tank top that clothes your impenetrable skin, grabbing the sides of your waist in a needy way, as if all she wanted at that moment was to feel you, as if her entire existence existed based on physically feeling you snuggled into her icy body.

She blinks, consenting to the overflow of her feelings, enraptured by the image of your cheeks burning and your chest heaving.

And she does what she thinks is right to do, which seems to be the only option possible in this small moment of affection and dedication, filled with an ember that if she could name it, she would call it love - because she knows she love you, even if she didn't say it out loud yet.

You are the love of her life, and she is the love of yours.

Wanda then hurls herself even farther forward, a nymph figure smitten with idolatry, and takes her prize, pressing the commission of her red lips against the outlined mouth with the flavor of melancholy that could belong to none other than you, so exotic, and never the same.

You feel the smart hands rest at the end of your spine with an almost practiced disregard, seeking nothing but feeling at first, far from the lascivious idea of consolidating the carnal act. Wanda just wants to feel you close, all to herself, comfortable in her grip.

Between a set of pink lips, a tongue is present, and this tongue curls up in another in a not hasty and exaggerated way. It's elegant. It's careful. It is harmonious.

But a slow kiss unravels, and Wanda holds her breath and returns in search of more of her favorite flavor to keep in her mouth, only to be promptly reciprocated by a devoted you, a soft nostalgic familiarity edging your silhouettes connected by the lips beneath a star-studded sky, with an absorbed perfection that no one else but the two of you would be able to achieve.

Up and down, side and side; surrounded by genuine attunement, lips moved carefully, following an invisible line that dictates your not so reckless actions.

A waltz of delicate, tangible lips that still fit together so perfectly, so neatly, that you might as well cry.

But the pacified kiss soon takes the form of a fervent kiss as you pant hot against your ex-wife's lips, and the fervent kiss becomes little kisses sprinkled around her neck that soon dissolve into a hollow moan, into a world where there didn't seem to be any more worries as long as you were in each other's arms.

In her own time, Wanda drags her teeth along the lower lip of your mouth, which groans deeply in response with a tingling in your throat, a tiny fraction of time passing until, like a buzz, quick, rough lips take refuge again in a tongue inside your mouth, and you feel an icy hand grasp your breast in a primitive way.

Clever fingers, soaked in crimson, traveled to your scalp, and a light mouth caresses yet another moan of yours. In a heartbeat, Wanda swings a leg over your knees and sits right on top of your lap, grabbing your wrists to put your hands around her waist.

The feeling is familiar. Toxically familiar.

It is the red invading your senses, intoxicating you with dense doses of scarlet.

You know very well that, even before the enticements of alcohol and cigarettes, your primary vice has always been the crimson sweetness of Wanda's body.

And, well… you're not known for being resistant to the temptations of your addictions.

ᗢ

A crimson marble glow glistening under the palms of both your hands. Sweat glistened in the hollow of your groin across your burning hips.

Wanda riding on your lap, naked as a Renaissance painting displayed in the dim light of a museum, her chest heavy like a marathon runner. The long, thick length of the red strap brushed against a specific spot on her inner walls that made her delirious and increasingly pivot her hips toward you, seeking more, brushing against each other like two animals in heat.

There was nothing rational in that animalistic act.

The symphony in the room was that of skin beating wet against skin; of her lascivious wetness voraciously swallowing your cock.

You could see it from the single, retracted drop of sweat that poured into the valley between her own swollen breasts, the two mounds swaying just before your lascivious eyes; a delight modulated to your stormy gaze, profuse as sea water, which clouded your young girlfriend's body with a predatory look, immersed in illicit labor.

Your insides tingled in a white-hot tingle, both clits sliding through the material of the strap, the insides of your thighs strong and wet against Wanda's pulsing center.

Her tight pussy pressing against the erect silicone phallus between your legs, the red of the material buffed with the sticky juices from inside of her. That was her bed, her sheets wet beneath your sweaty bodies, the walls of her room reverberating the pornographic grunts and moans from deep in her throat.

“F-fuck-!” she clenched her teeth, her nails lacquered with black nail polish carving red paths in the muscles of your back, “Y/N, fuck, right there, ah-!”

Her thick Sokovian accent spilled into your ears, and something primal and cavernous rumbled inside you, like a spark that explodes in a raging fire.

You wanted to own her.

You wanted to consume her.

You wanted to eat her alive; fuck her until the mold of your strap was forever etched into the walls of her greedy cunt, which was increasingly squeezing the silicone phallus, a delicious pressure forming a red knot just below her belly button.

“Ah-! Ah-!, pozhaluysta, pozhaluysta-!” she gasped in her native dialect, loud and clear against your ear as you fucked her as hard as possible “Trakhni menya... ya pochti u tseli, ya po-pochti u tseli... Ugh, dorogaya!”

“Fuck, are you close?”

“U-uhum! ” she kind of moaned, both eyes squinted two lewd lines “Please don't stop, don't stop Y/N, ah-!”

The scream was loud as you dropped her suddenly onto the sheets, her sweaty back slamming against the thick material of the mattress, her dark hair spilling across the pale material of the pillow.

You slipped your hands between the folds of both her knees and brought her lower back close, barely giving her time to miss your strap inside her dripping cunt before guiding the red material between her sticky folds, resuming the vigorous action of fucking your way against her coccyx.

Your strong hand pressed itself (as did the bone of your jaw) against the upholstered headboard, and there a rip was deferred by your own touch – as it had done to a plucked pillow, and a lampshade shattered to the ground.

The lamp above your heads flashed white. Wanda's eyes glowed a profuse scarlet that swallowed the moss green of her irises, the darkening of her dilated pupils making her eyes look like two bottomless wells of lust.

You buried your face against the beam of sweaty skin that joined her neck to her collarbone, and placed a generous, savage bite there.

"Fuck- I’m cumming, I'm cumming!" she decreed, panting against your bare neck, pressing her fingers against your buttocks in an incitement to the act they so indomitably committed.

“Cum for me Wanda” you murmured against her ear “Cum on my cock, pretty girl”

The bed hit the wall again. And again. And again.

You didn't stop at the first orgasm. Nor in the second. Nor on the third.

《《《《《《《ᱬ》》》》》》》

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