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amelxa · 2 months

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atonement

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camp counselor!wanda x reader

word count: 6k

warnings: homophobia and homophobic slurs, conversion therapy, manipulation, gaslighting, references to drug use, unhealthy power dynamics (so rape), noncon to dubcon, cunnilingus, degrading, fingering, nipple play, size kink, general mean Wanda

a/n: me? posting blasphemous content on Easter Sunday? I would never

It looked harmless enough. You weren’t sure what you had been anticipating, mostly because you had been trying to keep your mind off of the unavoidable destination, but it certainly wasn’t the depressing place you had expected. No, they were smart enough to keep that reality away from the parents that dropped their ‘troubled’ children off. If anything, it looked like the kind of summer camp that a lot of your friends would be enjoying about that time.

There wasn’t a church for one thing. In its place was what appeared to be a ranch style house that had kept its traditional family features such as the pair of rocking chairs on the porch and the maintained flowerbed around the borders. On either side of the building, closing in the driveway, were several other intimate buildings that created the impression of a community style living. They were all decorated with various posters about god’s love and acceptance that you guessed you were going to be hearing a lot about during your stay.

Your mother got out of the car first as a man who looked like he was still being dressed by his own mum jogged over from the main house to greet you both. You clenched your grip on your bag strap before deciding to face the music and follow her lead, still examining the area sceptically as your mother and the man introduced themselves. Your mother failed to deliver the same excitement the blonde did, but she attempted to force it nonetheless while your hosts laughed easily at something she had said.

You weren’t listening to either of them as you retrieved your other bag from the boot of the car, not expecting the man to walk around the other side to greet you. “Y/n!” He said like you were an old friend. “I’m Reverend Vision but you can call me Rev Vis.” You most certainly weren’t going to be doing that. “We’re so happy to have you here, let me give you the grand tour of our home,” he beckoned. You trailed behind them.

“Do you live on site?” Your mother asked.

“Oh yes, me and the Mrs. We love our work,” he drowned on and began guiding you through the various rooms of the two buildings either side of his house. The more you learnt about the place, the more you began to dread your stay. There were ‘entertainment’ rooms that were filled with musical instruments and religious books and music. A canteen area fueled by the kitchen in which all of the students were to prepare every meal. A prayer room that was deserted at that time. Finally, the dorms.

Vision wasted no time in searching through your bags for anything that could “interfere with your journey” and came up empty handed, much to his well hidden disappointment. Your mother didn’t seem to notice it, too focused on the contents that came out of your bag, but you saw the flicker of his brow when he declared you were all good and began explaining the long lists of rules that you had no intention of memorising.

“And we do not allow any kind of sexual acts, with yourself or others,” he said lightly. Your mother shifted uncomfortably and you nodded. You had no intention of being caught by him with your hands down your pants when he did his checks during the night. You didn’t anticipate being there long because you were fully prepared to fake your conversion to heterosexuality. How hard could it be? Besides, you dreaded to think how much your parents were paying the capm under the illusion that they could somehow change you. You had to find it humorous, otherwise it would really fucking hurt.

It still did when you watched your family car disappear past the camp gates and into the dense tree line. You sighed, resting your head gently against the cool glass of your window and took in the camp in its entirety. It was a waste of beautiful land, you concluded as you examined where the large field met the changing trees. There were a couple guys in the camp uniform playing football on the grass while a cluster of girls sat to the side cheering them on. Apparently you had caught the end of the game, because Vision appeared on the edge of the grass and called them back inside, most likely to prepare for dinner.

“Y/n,” a voice behind you called. You spun around at the unexpected caller just as she opened her arms and enveloped you in a tight hug that took you wholly by surprise.

“Hi?” You greeted as a question, making the older woman chuckle as she held you before pulling away and keeping her soft hands on your arms as she took you in and allowed you to do the same. Holy fuck she was beautiful. Her striking emerald eyes bore straight through your own and somehow had the ability to make you feel entirely exposed, as though it would be futile to ever conceal anything from her, including your undeniable attraction to her. In contrast, her smile was soft and polite as she gazed at you in a friendly fondness you would with someone you haven't seen in a long time. There was something noticeably comforting in it and the way she carried an entirely put together personar that you wanted a peek beneath. Metaphorically of course… but also literally.

“I’m Wanda, Vision’s wife.” Rev Vis was punching way above his weight. This woman’s voice was even hot. Maybe pretending to be straight would be harder than you thought.

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled and glanced away awkwardly, finding her impossible to maintain eye contact with. She didn’t seem to care as she hooked her finger under your chin and turned your head to keep your attention on her.

“I have every faith you’re going to do so well here, sweetheart,” she told you fondly then dropped her hand and took a respectful step back. Right, gotta leave room for jesus. “Your roommate will be back soon then you too should head down for supper,” she instructed as she headed for the door.

“Okay,” you nodded and pretended to unpack your bags.

“See you later, honey,” she said before disappearing. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding and collapsed onto your bed.

Your first day dragged by painstakingly slowly. Between meals, you attended bible study taught by Vision who gave you his extra attention as it was your first time there. He asked you to compare your own relationship with god to that which he was teaching, expecting an answer in front of all the other students who had been through the same ordeal and spotted your lies as well as Vision did. Apparently everyone did the same when they started at the camp.

You had kitchen duty in the morning and garden duty in the afternoon (which was probably the least crap one) before you had to sit down for what felt like hours to listen to Vision sing about god on a guitar he didn’t know how to tune properly. During every interaction you had with him, all you could think about was how he had ended up with a woman like Wanda. Had they been high school sweethearts? Had their parents pushed them together? Did he have some kind of twisted blackmail over her? They were the only three explanations that made any sense to you but you weren’t about to ask any of the other students for their input.

As it turned out, your daily routine was also going to include a one on one session with the older woman which should have been something to act as a silver lining in your stay, but it was the most challenging aspect of all.

“When did your desire for women begin?” She asked after some small talk.

“I’m not sure,” you lied in an effort to buy yourself some time to think of a good response. She smiled at you softly.

“You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to god,” she informed lightly.

“A couple years ago,” you replied honestly. This seemed to please her.

“And how did it manifest?” She sounded genuinely curious to know, lulling you into being unexpectedly open with her. It wasn’t as though you had anyone else to talk about that stuff with.

“There was a girl in my class that I thought was pretty,” you told her as you recalled your first real crush. “I felt more when she smiled at me than I did when I kissed a boy.” Wanda smiled as though she could see the purity of your memory as well as you could. Except to her, it wasn’t so innocent.

“The devil likes to work his way into places we could never expect,” she told you and your smile dropped. “Especially when we’re naive,” she added. It sounded as though she didn’t hold anything against you and she wholly believed you had been seduced by the devil himself and that it was impossible for there to be any other explanation.

“I was seventeen,” you reasoned. “I wasn’t naive.” Wanda liked the challenge you gave her. That whisper of a promised defiance gave her a thrill she knew to keep a cap unless she was required to use it. She would do anything for her beloved students to guide them back on the right path, especially one that wore the face of morality so well.

“And what do you mean by that?” Wanda enquired.

“I knew- I know what desire and attraction feel like,” you told her without looking her in those expectant eyes that unknowingly glimmered at your revelation.

“Lust,” Wanda said simply. “One of the hardest sins to resist when it affects one so physically.”

“Surely it can’t be bad if it’s natural,” you pointed out. That was not the response the brunette wanted to hear.

“It is not natural,” Wanda said so quickly that she had to take a moment to recollect herself as you looked at her with shock as you took in that momentary crack in her exterior. It was interesting to watch and you wondered why it had hit a nerve. Surely you weren’t the only one to come into her office and state the fact.

“Y/n,” she called slowly. “If lust comes to you while you are here, you must come and tell me,” she told you seriously. Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t be doing that. You agreed obediently anyway.

“Good,” she smiled again. “Now, is there anyone you currently feel ungodly towards?”

“The same girl,” you admitted sheepishly. Yes, you had had a variety of other minor crushes in the past couple years, but she always managed to fill you with that teasing anxiety that never fully manifested when she said hi to you.

Wanda raised her brows indiscreetly. “I hope you will soon be able to give that same loyalty to god,” she said. You didn’t give her a response, unsure of what to say when you had no intention of doing such a thing. “In time,” she added when she saw your hesitation.

“Maybe,” you muttered, meeting her half way. “Won’t he love me regardless?” You painted the question with an air of innocence that anyone else would have fallen for. But Wanda saw beyond that and knew you used the faux front purely to challenge her again. She was impressed.

“Of course,” she told you gently. “Always.”

You thought you were being subtle with the way you kept glancing over at the couple. It was breakfast time so there was a general murmur of conversation that you didn’t feel particularly pressed to join in with. All it did was teach you to avoid sitting with the group you had found yourself with again because they seemed to be the only students there who were actively participating in the conversion with the belief it would ‘fix them’. You pitied them in a way, but not enough to interfere with their ramblings about their opposite sex celebrity crushes.

Wanda caught your eye on one of the many times you had peered over. Vision was talking to her but apparently she was as distracted from her company as you were, more fixed on returning your gaze. The corner of her lip twitched when you realised you’d been caught and you swiftly looked away to stare down at your cereal, actively keeping your wandering gaze on the other side of the room for the rest of the meal.

“So what did you do to end up here?” A curly haired boy asked as he strolled into the kitchen you occupied alone. He was swinging a tea towel in his hands as he joined you and started on drying the washing up you had started.

“Got caught making out with the pastor’s daughter,” you said stoically.

“You’re fucking with me,” he grinned and your composure cracked.

“Yeah, but it’s much cooler than the truth,” you told him honestly as he jumped up onto the counter.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. My grandma walked in on me with my dick down my best friend’s ass,” he told you and you couldn’t stop the laugh that rose promptly. You grinned at the boy next to you in disbelief, thankful that your own luck wasn’t that bad. “Your turn,” he prompted.

“I told my best friend that I like girls. She told my parents,” you said humorously, as though it didn’t hurt like a bitch just to remember.

“I think I have better mates than you,” he concluded. You didn’t argue with that. “I’m James.”

“Y/n,” you replied. “How long have you been here?”

“Four months.”

“What?” You splashed some water over the floor when your hand slipped in shock and James yelped when some drops hit him then started chuckling at the look you were giving him.

“What? Did you think it was only going to last a couple weeks?”

“Kinda, yeah,” you muttered as you returned your attention to your chore. “Do you think you’ll be out soon?”

“Nah, they know I’m bullshitting them. We all are, of course, but some of them can trick themselves into believing it, which is good enough for Vision.”

“Yeah, I know Wanda sees right through me,” you told him. “Which by the way, that makes no sense right?”

“I reckon he’s holding her family captive,” James stated simply. You laughed with him easily, glad you had found someone like minded to you. “Hey, do you wanna get high?”

The nimble threads at the bottom of your uniformed cardigan were multiplying as your stay at the camp went by. Your fingers frequently found their way to them when you were uncomfortable, which was more often than not, and pulled at the finer threads until you unintentionally collected a small bundle in the palm of your hands that you had to hide. Vision never commented on it, but Wanda did, telling you that it represented your impulse to repress your femininity or some bullshit like that.

You left the threads alone and laced your hands together in your lap when she gave you a pointed look from her office chair and you muttered an apology.

“I’ve noticed you and James have become quite close,” she commented. “I must admit I was hoping you would find better company in some of the other students here. James doesn’t provide the best example to follow,” she told you.

“We’re just friends,” you shrugged, slightly irked that the older woman had a problem with the one refuge you had been able to find in the camp.

“Are you friends with anyone else here?” She questioned, not yet providing you the warm smile she offered every time you stepped into her office or saw her in general. She didn’t look happy that day. She looked troubled but you didn’t believe that was solely down to your decision to spend time with James.

“Not yet,” you told her even though you weren’t planning on expanding your social circle. Though if it was only two people it must be more of a line. Still, adding that unfulfilled optimism was meant to appease Wanda. You should have expected her to see it for what it really was.

“What do you and James talk about?” She wasn’t going to let it go.

“Our lives, I guess,” you shrugged.

“Your experiences,” Wanda said for you. You knew there was no point in denying that when your glance towards her told her all she needed to know.

“Sometimes.”

“You should only discuss those topics with myself or Vision, otherwise you may end up having those experiences affirmed and encouraged,” she explained pointedly. You nodded uncomfortably as your fingers found their ways to your threads again only to snap back in place when you felt Wanda’s eyes momentarily burn into you. Something was very different with her. “So tell me what you discussed,” she pushed.

“I told him how much I dislike kissing boys,” you told her matter of factly as you tried to suppress your rising irritation. Maybe it was her job, but you hated her need to know everything you and James did.

“And you want to kiss girls instead?”

“I want to do a lot of things with them,” you laid on the innocence thick, playing your role as the good christian who was simply admitting to how she had been led astray and just wanted to atone for her sins. As always, Wanda saw through your facade though that time it made her tick. You knew exactly what you were doing, you just had no idea the effect it was having on the older woman. You had no idea that your insistence on pretending to be good while knowing you were bad stirred something in her that she wasn’t supposed to feel. You were pushing those sinful desires that had infiltrated your mind right into her own and she wouldn’t allow it.

“That’s all for today,” she declared without giving a response to your statement. It hadn’t even been your full session time, maybe more like half of it.

“Okay,” you said slowly as you stood up.

“I suggest you spend the rest of your evening with your roommate today,” she told you as you lingered in the doorway.

“Right, bye,” you bid awkwardly, frowning to yourself as you walked away.

The moment the door closed Wanda sighed heavily and leant back in her chair, catching sight of the framed photo of herself and Vision when they went on a hiking holiday in Colorado. The both beamed at the camera as they held each other close, though Wanda’s love for her husband had been as dim as it was in the present. But it was what god wanted. What god certainly didn’t want was for Wanda to allow her mind to wander to you in the way it had during that session when you had been taunting her with that faux naivety that everyone else seemed to fall for.

She had such hope for you when she first met you. But the images you had put in her head of her hand disappearing beneath your skirt as her lips clashed with yours, pinning you down to that very couch you perched on, that was something that could not be allowed to flourish, no matter how it made her throb between her legs. Wanda forced herself to stare at her husband’s image and remember when he used to make her feel that way, but those memories of his breathless features beneath her were replaced with your own and suddenly she couldn’t help but ponder what your sweet moans would sound like next to her ear as her fingers dipped inside-

“Lord help me,” Wanda called, but he never came.

You and Wanda both faced your own new challenges as the weeks went by. For you, your only refuge was gone. James had been sent back home randomly one night after an incident that no one would discuss with you. You had written your numbers on pieces of paper before that night, but it had disappeared as mysteriously as James had and gave you an equally chilling feeling. You had no idea what was going to happen to him when he arrived home without the results he had been sent away to achieve. Would they send him somewhere else? Somewhere worse? The only thing you could do was try not to end up like him.

Unfortunately, Wanda knew that nothing had changed within you. You continued to try and fool her with your illusion of innocence, reciting what Vision had taught you, socialising with the committed students and answering her questions in the way she wanted to hear rather than the truth. Little did you know that your efforts to quicken your release from the camp were futile, because Wanda simply didn’t want you gone yet. You were fighting a losing battle, just as she was.

As much as she despised to acknowledge it, the brunette fought her own desires as much as you did. It made her hate how much she was drawn to you. It made her ashamed of the acts she envisaged herself performing with you and how she just knew in her heart that you would so willingly part your legs for her. She wasn’t blind to your attraction to her, she had encountered it enough in her career to see it a mile away, no matter how discreet you thought you were being.

“I think I’m getting better,” you lied as you peered at Wanda cautiously.

“And what makes you say that?” The older woman inquired, humouring your plain fib.

“I don’t think about girls,” you said as you willed yourself not to look at Wanda’s long legs that were crossed eloquently.

“What do you think about?” You hadn’t been prepared for that.

“God?” Wrong. Obviously wrong. Wanda hummed and you knew that meant she didn’t buy it.

“Y/n, I want you to start being more honest with me.” You froze and didn’t dare look her in the eye. “I’m aware that you’re not progressing, so I think we should try something new. Just you and me.” You frowned and risked looking up to the confident woman, not having a clue of the excitement that manifested so secretly. “Are you familiar with penance?” You were, yet you had no idea where Wanda was going with it.

“There are many different forms. Some fast, some pray, some confess, but as we practise most of that here anyway, I want to try something else,” Wanda explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered over to the desk in the corner of her office. You heard her rummaging around in the draws as a feeling of unease began to emerge in your chest. Rightfully so, because when Wanda turned back around, she held a riding crop firmly in her grasp.

“Stand up,” she instructed and you quickly did so as you eyed the tool in her hands. “Usually you would do this yourself, but I don’t believe you’re capable,” she explained lightly. “Hold out your hand.”

“Wanda,” you said as you kept your hand glued to your side. “I don’t want to.” Her features were deceivingly gentle as she listened to you.

“I don’t want to do this to you either, sweetheart. It’s just the only solution. So hold out your hand,” she repeated, gripping the crop so tight you could hear the leather stretch in her grasp. It unsettled you greatly.

“But it will hurt,” you objected, eyes wide. Wanda could have laughed at how oblivious you were to her intentions.

“It’s meant to,” she said simply and grabbed your wrist with a force that completely paralleled the softness of her tone.

“Wanda-” you tried to yank your hand back but you weren’t as strong as the brunette who only had to hold you with one hand while the other brought the crop down hard.

You cried out but Wanda used her grip on you to pull you flush against her chest, her features having turned ice cold. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyes pierced through your own with a sharpness that was usually dulled. The next words she uttered were void of that nurturing faith she used with everyone else and were replaced with something much darker. “If you keep struggling I’ll bend you over that desk and whip your ass instead.” You trembled against her, trying to decipher what your best bet was. When you took too long to decide, Wanda reached around and groped your ass, digging the crop in as she did so as though to make sure you knew she was serious. Your breath hitched as you found yourself completely trapped against the woman that squeezed you through your skirt. You whimpered, riling her up more until you nodded.

“Good,” Wanda exhaled, calming the heat she was struck with at the sight of your fearful eyes. “With every strike, you’re going to confess something you’ve lied about to me.” There were so many lies to choose from that when the first strike came, you struggled to pick one out. “Confess,” Wanda demanded, all of her patience suddenly absent.

“I don’t like boys, I like girls,” you admitted in a rush, refusing to look at Wanda or your burning hand that she struck again. “I’m not doing the work,” you continued. Wanda remained dissatisfied, striking your raw palm again and again as you admitted to your lies, none of which being what Wanda wanted to hear.

“I touch myself!” That was what she was looking for.

“Look at me,” Wanda instructed, examining the tear streaks down your cheeks as you whimpered. It was clear you were trying to appear strong and indifferent, but it was quickly becoming too much. The older woman cooed at you as dropped the crop to the couch behind you and took a hold of your inflamed hand, rubbing the abused hand with a tenderness that only made it burn more.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her smile had grown sinister and you realised you were nowhere near done. “What thoughts do you touch yourself to?” Wanda questioned further, rubbing the most tender areas of your palm.

“Lying with a woman,” you hiccuped, hoping the harmless phrasing could somehow ease your next punishment.

“Who?” She pushed, gripping your chin roughly and forcing you to look straight ahead at her as you confessed what she already knew.

“You,” you whispered. Arousal rushed to the forefront of Wanda’s mind, and with it came anger. You weren't allowed to make her feel the way you did. She had a husband and she was a faithful Christian wife until you showed up and infected her mind with your own illness. You had to be put in your place.

In a blur, you were laying flat on the sofa you had lied continuously to Wanda on. You were barely given the chance to react before Wanda hiked her leg over your chest and straddled you with a purely feral look upon her face. You felt a strike of fear hit you, however you also weren’t blind to how attractive Wanda looked in her state of desperation. It may have been a desperation to reclaim control and to punish you for her own feelings, but it was hot nonetheless.

“You’ve been tempting me ever since you got here,” she hissed, feeling under her conservative skirt for a moment before she lifted it up around her waist. “This is your fault,” Wanda told you as you soaked in the view of her exposed pussy just inches from your face. You could smell her arousal and when she moved to lower herself onto your awaiting mouth, you eagerly grabbed at the back of her thighs until she slapped you away. “You don’t get to touch me with those filthy fingers, just let me use you.” Although you knew it was terribly wrong, you felt your own cunt heat up at her instructions. You knew that it was fucked up that the married woman wanted to get off on riding your mouth, but you wanted it so bad.

“Just like that,” Wanda sighed as you ran your tongue through her wet folds and sucked on them lightly, aiming to savour every drop and inch of her. “Put your tongue out,” she continued to demand. As soon as you did, Wanda began to vigorously grind her clit against your muscle, allowing your tastebuds to become ablaze with her as she cursed above you. You had never heard her swear before and knew she would scold anyone who muttered anything close, so knowing you could elicit such a reaction from her made your insides twist with pride.

She didn’t argue when you switched to sucking on her pulsing clit and felt it throb in your mouth. You moaned against her as her movements continued and her thighs locked around her head. It felt as though she really was using you for her own pleasure, not caring about your own or any comfort. You were the shameful bliss she was forbidden to engage with, but it felt incredible to ignore her god and use you as she wished. But she was really disobeying him, she was just teaching you a lesson. It wasn’t really sinning.

“Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop, you slut!” Wanda cried out as she became engulfed with the sensations you gave her. You had no intention of stopping as you shifted to pushing your tongue inside her. You were met by the tight squeeze of her walls and felt your own clench at the discovery she hadn’t had sex in a while. That explained why she was so sensitive too. Besides yourself, you smirked into the older woman and doubled your efforts.

It didn’t take long for Wanda to get close to the bliss she had become stranger to and you weren’t about to let her lose that. She knew her body, even after some time of depriving herself, and told you exactly what to do to get her there. “That’s it, that’s it,” she panted, head swimming as she erratically thrust herself onto her mouth and came with a sharp cry. You moaned against her, adamant on tasting your reward as Wanda trembled on top of you and eventually forced herself off when you didn’t stop. She wasn’t about to let greed overcome her.

You looked up at her with a hesitant smile that was apparently the last thing Wanda wanted to see. She glared at you and immediately lifted you up and spun you around so that you were leaning over the armrest on the sofa, not allowing you a second to object. “What-” you tried but she didn’t want to hear it.

“We’re not done,” she said without care as she lifted your own skirt over your back and yanked down your soaked underwear. She bit her lip at the sight of the wetness that stained them and threw them over to her desk for safe keeping, definitely not to sniff and use to get off later.

“Desperate whore,” she muttered to herself as she ran two fingers through your drenched lips. “You want to get fucked so bad? I’ll show you what it’s like to get fucked.” She let the threat loom over you as dipped her digits into you lightly, barely enough to stimulate you but enough for her to decipher how tight you were. Wanda groaned when she felt you clench in anticipation, desperate for any touch you would give her. At that, she let the remains of her self control slip away and thrust her fingers in at once. “So tight,” she commented as you clung onto the sofa, moaning at the feeling of her filling you up in the way you had dreamed ever since you first met the older woman.

“Wanda,” you whined when she spread her fingers out within you to push your walls.

“Shut up,” she hissed, refusing to listen to your pathetic pleas on the tip of your tongue. “Take it.” And you did. You bit into the couch to mute yourself as Wanda curled and thrust her fingers inside your wet cunt, mapping out every inch of you and pushing your body’s limits. She added a third finger without any consideration to your stifled whines.

Wanda, as she told herself, was only doing it to hurt you and punish you. You deserved it for sinning so openly in her home and for attempting to corrupt her. It wouldn’t work, she convinced herself, she wouldn’t succumb to your lust but she had to show you the right path. She had to make you ache. With that in mind, she added a fourth finger and pumped her fingers in wildly.

You cried out into the material you sunk your teeth into, feeling your pussy sting at the stretch Wanda was causing. Still, you continued to soak down to her palm. It just hurt so good. Too good for Wanda to allow, so she snuck her hand under your shirt and bra to take your nipples between her fingers and twist them cruelly. You whimpered at the unnecessary act, making Wanda grin triumphantly.

Despite the pain, it did little to distract you from the heat between your legs that was quickly growing out of control. Having stretched you out as much as she pleased, Wanda was able to thrust her fingers inside you without mercy, attacking every sensitive nerve until you became a mess on the sofa she was meant to therapise you on. “You going to cum for me, whore?” Wanda asked when she felt you twitch around her. You mumbled a yes you were lucky she heard. “You’re so pathetic like this, so weak to temptation,” she scolded you with a wicked smile you couldn’t see. “Cum for me.” That was all it took for your muscles to clench tightly around her and let go. You moaned like the whore she saw you as as you came, gripping onto the sofa for dear life as Wanda continued to ruthlessly pump her digits into your cunt.

“Too much,” you whined when she failed to stop. She didn’t listen. You came down from one orgasm and soon went tumbling into another when Wadna kept up her actions, making sure to drive her point home. You squirmed under her as your body became overstimulated but there was no room or strength for you to move away. “Please!” You begged as you bucked into her palm, unable to stop the contradicting action that served to amuse Wanda.

“So sensitive,” Wanda mused, coaxing you through another orgasm until she deemed that the message had gone through enough. You collapsed in a defeated heap as she stood up from the sofa and corrected her uniform as though you weren’t even there. You missed her taking her tainted digits into her mouth to appease her curiosity. Lord, she thought as she tasted your sweetness. She swiftly pushed away the impulse to keep you down and taste your sweetness directly from the source. She had to keep things professional after all.

“See me first thing in the morning,” she instructed, features still flushed with lingering lust. She had given into temptation and whether she liked it or not, she would indulge in you again. You weren’t going home anytime soon.

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amelxa · 2 months

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Y/N: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*

Wanda : Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?

Y/N: I—

Y/N: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

1K notes · View notes

amelxa · 3 months

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Smoking kink with mommy Wanda.

Warnings: NSFW 18+, mommy kink, smoking obviously, shy reader, alcohol, age gap

AN: lmao guys I’m back after month of silence, I'm rested and ready to worship Lizzie and other women again.

I was just thinking about my smoking kink and a picture of you and mommy Wanda, standing on the porch of her house appeared in my head. Perhaps you just went to visit your friends and met her, perhaps it was a small neighborly gathering, but it doesn’t matter.

The main thing is that you are standing together on the porch, and there is the second glass of wine already in your hands, which she kindly offered you. She tries to light a cigarette, it seems that it was some kind of thin and menthol (such a cliché) and because of the strong wind, the weak flame of the lighter goes out every time and you move closer to her to cover it from the wind. And when the cigarette begins to smolder, you look in a trance at her lips wrapped around the filter and smell the smell of tobacco, which is instinctively associated with Wanda.

You cover your face in shame, pretending to enjoy the wine, when in fact watching her smoke was the hottest (literally lmao) sight. She says something about the terrible weather and the constant rain, but you only half listen to her as your eyes follow her hands. Behind her thin long fingers with a cigarette and you think what these fingers could do with you... And then you look up and watch how smoke comes out of her lips and Wanda’s tongue passes along her lower lip.

It seems that this smoke went straight to your head, otherwise why else can’t you think in another direction other than about obscenity with this woman.

Oh, of course, she noticed that you were mentally somewhere not here and finished her monologue about the weather and asked. "Do you want?" You didn’t immediately understand what she meant, only when you saw her handing you a cigarette. Wanda knew that you didn’t smoke, but her first guess about your reaction to her bad habit was that you were simply afraid to ask her to let you try. You looked at the smoke that rose between you both and did’t move. “I...no thanks, I don’t smoke.”

Silence followed you again and the puzzle in the older woman’s head began to take shape. “Are you sure you don’t want to?” She asked in the hope that you would think twice about it. All that came out of your mouth was a string of unintelligible stutters and then she placed her free hand on yours that was holding the glass and lowered them so she could see your red face. Wanda advanced on you, gradually pressing you into the railing until she was so close that her chest was pressed against yours. "I think you will like it." She whispered and took another drag, looking into your eyes. And then she leaned towards your lips, barely touching to exhale the bitter smoke.

Now the smoke that was in her lungs ended up in yours and the nicotine instantly entered your bloodstream, causing you even more dizziness and an attack of euphoria. Wanda's hand with the cigarette rose to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and the woman asked another question in a whisper. “Well, dear? How do you like it?” An uncontrollable moan escaped from your mouth, giving Wanda the green light and she broke her lips on yours, immediately using her tongue inside you. The glass of wine was put aside somewhere and your hands grabbed the railing because you felt like you might fall.

Wanda took your face in her hands and kissed you so greedily, as if she were a wild animal, whispering “Good girl” between kisses and “Let Mommy do the work” which made your core throb.

She having to pull away because someone came outside looking for the two of you and she ended up smoking the rest of her cigarette like she did in the beginning; leaving you at the railing with burning cheeks and heat between your thighs.

The last thing Wanda said to you was “Go upstairs when they’re all gone, second door on the right.” She turned around and winked at you, walking into the warmth and noise of the house.

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amelxa · 3 months

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– DONT POKE THE BEAR.

– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem! reader

– synopsis | you’re known to be quite a tease, especially for your girlfriend, but what happens when you push her too far? will she be able to control herself or will you force her hand?

– warnings | smut, thigh riding, wanda wants to be your mommy hehe, strap on (r!receiving), orgasm denial duh, she eats it from the back :33, face slapping, crybaby reader again, wanda is kinda mean and punishes you ig but she’s so cute with it idc. (18+)

As you entered the room, you couldn’t help but freeze at the sight before you. There she was, the tall and intimidating woman you had grown so fond of, tucked snugly in bed with a book in hand. But what caught you off guard were the glasses perched on her nose – the nerdiest looking frames you had ever seen.

You felt a bubbling laughter rise within you, threatening to burst out uncontrollably. It wasn't just the glasses themselves, but the stark contrast they created against her usual, intense demeanor. You had never seen her in glasses before, and the image was both endearing and hilarious.

Struggling to contain your amusement, you approached your side of the bed cautiously, trying not to let on that you were on the verge of laughter. But a few giggles slipped and she looked up from her book, a hint of curiosity in her eyes, and you quickly composed yourself, managing to offer a sheepish smile instead.

“What's so funny?" She asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

Unwilling to lie, you admitted, “you look like a nerd,” and unable to hide your amusement now, you laughed freely.

She was used to your teasing, your playful jabs that never fail to stir her up. In another universe, perhaps, she'd have you over her lap, your apologies tumbling out as you, painfully, realise the extent of your teasing and how mean it was to tease your mommy…

But in this universe, she couldn’t. Not until you were ready.

So she simply chuckled, “and you look like a goof,” eyes trailing down to between your legs, paying close attention to your underwear…

Your bow print underwear.

“Hey! I’ll have you know you loved this goofy apparel the other day.” You cocked your head to the side, stretching up on your knees so your vest rides higher, revealing the top of your underwear where a little pink flower resides, “You loved it so much, I believe you were unable to keep your hands off of me.”

You were obviously right.

Wanda had a thing for you in cute panties instead of sexy lingerie, seeing as stocking and garter belts were more her speed.

Ever the tease, you pulled the duvet off the woman, sending the book flying - as if you even cared - before straddling her warm thighs.

“Oh yeah?” She retorted unemotionally. She wasn’t going to give into your bratty behaviour, no matter how cute you looked on top of her.

“Oh yeah.” You replied mischievously, with a few rolls of your hips. But her hands had latched on before you could continue, halting all your attempts to turn her on.

“Not tonight.”

“Come on, nerd.” You whined, hands attempt to pry hers of your hips. “It’s not even late yet.”

Unmoving, she replied, “don’t call me that.”

“What? You are though.” You ran over her appearance once again, her red curls held high in a loose ponytail as her baby hairs flew abashedly in each direction.

So fucking cute and yet so sexy.

You leaned forward, chest brushing hers. “I mean, who would’ve thought the big, bad Scarlet Witch would need nerdy glasses.”

“What did I say, moya lyubov?” She warned but your fingers only toyed with the arms of her frames, forcing the lenses up and down with each push.

Your incessant need to push buttons drew you closer to a point of no return. Your girlfriend could only take so much more before she snapped.

“Aw is the little witch crying?” You fake cooed, hands playing with the ends of her hair, ready to pull as you deliver the final blow.

“Only a true nerd would get so upset about being called one.”

Pain heated her scalp as her neck was yanked back, but only for a second as you let go of the pressure. Her eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and anger as she grabbed under your armpits, hauling your off her lap like a ragdoll before pinning your wrists above your head.

You felt a surge of fear mixed with a strange excitement as she held you in place, having pushed Wanda so much she’s actually snapped. No longer the collective, push-over girlfriend she had portrayed herself as.

“Are you stupid?” She spat, her entire weight resting upon your stomach. “You don’t listen, do you?”

Clearly unfazed by her words, you smile up at the woman, bucking your hips into her. “Well I guess not, Einstein.”

Even without much strength to it, the sound of the slap is loud. Your head ripped to the side as you gasped for air. Soon enough, you found yourself facing the woman above you. The offending hand now cupping your chin, as light fingers danced over your cheek, already turning red.

You went to speak but she shushed you, soft lips pressed over yours. “No more.” Is all she said but you understood what she meant, as you nod slowly.

No more lip tonight.

“I didn’t want to have to do that.” She brushed a few stray tears away, unbeknownst that you had even been crying. “But you were being bad, baby. Not my usual good girl.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice unsure of the situation you’re in. Wanda looked mad still, really mad, even though you were only joking around.

“I know, baby, but it’s not nice to be mean to me like that.”

“I was only joking…” You looked away, unable to stand her cold gaze any longer.

Her grip on your chin returned to bring your eyes back to hers. “And I told you to stop, didn’t I?”

You nodded weakly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach. You knew she was right, but you didn’t think you hurt Wanda that much. Not enough for her to slap you anyways.

She released her hold on you, moving back against the headboard before pulling you back onto her lap.

She watched you for a second, nothing your refusal to meet her eyes. You looked ashamed, but not too phased of the situation.

“You okay?” She asked, palms resting soothingly on your bottom.

“I’m okay.” You replied as you twirled her nightgown in your fist. “My cheek hurts though.”

“Good.” With that, she pulls you forward, starting a slow steady pace against her stomach, fingers groping, as you take the pleasure with gratitude.

You gasped at the friction, and Wanda chuckled when she felt the damp patch across your panties. “Oh. You liked that, didn’t you? Like when I hurt you, baby?”

Not knowing if she really wanted an answer, you nodded quickly. Hands holding tighter onto her shoulders as you try to speed up, but she moved you off her.

She stood up, leaving her glasses on her bedside table, working her way over towards the wardrobe. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Now let’s see how you like to be teased.”

…

You’re sat on the edge of the bed, and Wanda stepped between your legs, the red dildo pressing against your chest as she strokes it like it was actually her own.

“Do you like it?”

“You know I was the one that bought it for you.” You couldn’t help but say with a playful eye roll, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand snaked around your neck, applying immediate pressure before you could even realise.

“Do you want another?” She asked coldly, referring to the red mark now prominent on your cheek.

Fearfully, you shake your head as much as she allows you. “Then stop with the attitude.”

Ignoring your mumbled apologies, she leaned down to kiss you wetly, forcing your mouth open as she shoves her tongue inside.

“Move up.” She pushed you back up the bed, crawling atop you. You sighed, raising your hands to cup Wanda’s breasts spilling from her night slip.

“You want this?” She asked, rocking her hips so the silicone rubbed against your sodden panties.

You licked your lips before circling her hardened nipple. with your thumb. “Yes. Please.”

“Good girl.” She rolled over, moving up to the head of the bed. She sat back, against her pillows and patted her thighs. “Come here.”

You followed her, hands grabbing onto her shoulders. “Like this?” You lifted a leg, straddling across her hips.

“No. Up here.” She removed your hands putting them up on the headboard. “Don’t touch me until I say so.”

Wanda noticed your hesitancy, your eyes solely focused on what’s between her legs. It was bigger than what you usually took.

She guided you to sit slowly, fingers pulling your underwear to the side, feeling yourself stretch around her as you gasped at the intrusion.

“Feels good, baby?” She asked and once again you’re left speechless, only capable of nodding your head stupidly. “Yeah? Your face says it all.”

You rocked your hips slightly, the pleasure all too consuming to stay still much longer.

Wanda chuckled at the state of you, fighting the urge to slap your bottom just to see your timid self jump.

“Come on. Just ride me baby.”

And you did. Your initial shyness long forgotten as you gripped the headboard tighter, and lifted yourself almost all the way off her cock, before bringing yourself back down. You quickly worked yourself up to a steady pace, head dropping low to kiss Wanda hard on the mouth.

She enjoyed the view, tits bouncing within the confinement of your vest, as her dick disappeared inside your swollen pussy. She pushed her thumb against your covered clit, your movement faltering for a moment at the added pressure, before feeling your orgasm start to take over.

“Don’t.”

You heard her say and your eyes snapped open.“What?”

“Don’t come. Stop.” She grabbed your hips, stopping you from moving.

“What? Why?” You asked breathless. You could feel yourself pulse around her, your orgasm fading from view as your body willed you to move, to chase it.

“I told you.” She pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’m going to tease you. Now, start again. Go slow.”

You whimpered softly and began riding her again, trying not to go too fast. You managed a good pace, each thrust at the same speed as you rocked against her.

“Ah. Slower.”

You huffed, halting all together, before thrusting into what felt like too slow of a motion to make you come. Besides, your thighs had started to burn as you kept moving at this pace for what felt like hours.

“Wanda.” You mumbled, unable to hold onto the headboard any longer, your arms wrap tight around her shoulders, wanting to feel the woman pressed close against you.

She didn’t give you permission to touch but couldn’t find it within herself to reprimand you when you’ve been listening to her so well.

She stroked your curls from your face. “That’s a good girl.” She cooed soothingly, “Such a good girl. Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come.” You said, voice akin to a whine.

She pressed a few kisses across your face, “You’re going to have to ask nicer than that.”

You made a sound, something between a laugh and a sob, as tears fell down your cheeks. “Please, Wanda.” You paused, sinking further down until she was all the way inside you.

“Keep moving, baby.” She pulled your hips forwards and backwards. “Like this. Nice and slow.”

“So beautiful.” She whispered into your hair, trailing more kisses across your face until she reached your lips.

Your pleas fell on silent ears for a while longer as Wanda worked you up to your limit. Not wanting to overstimulate you but just pushing enough to see how far she can go. How far she can push you into that little headspace she wants to keep you in. “Okay, baby. You need to do exactly what I tell you, okay?”

You hummed and she continued. “You need to get off me and go lay down on your stomach.”

It took a second for your brain to compute what she said, but you did so willingly, and your cunt ached at the feeling of being so empty.

“Good girl. Now, on your knees, I need to put a pillow under your hips.” To which you did, as Wanda positioned her pillow under you. You went to lay down, all too familiar with this position, but hands on your waist stopped you.

A warmth spread across you as Wanda licked up your ruined underwear. The white cotton stuck to you she could see the outline of your pussy so vividly. She moaned at the taste, and you whined embarrassingly loud, pushing your hips back into her face, hoping she’d let you come this time. But she pulled always, as the telltale signs of your orgasm come forth, and knocked you off balance, falling into the soft duvet under you.

“I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t help myself.” She ran soothing hands up and down your back, before pulling your underwear off of you.

She didn’t want to keep you waiting much longer, deciding two denials was enough for your first time.

“You taste so good, but I want you to come on my cock, okay? I promise Im going to let you come this time.”

You mumbled an okay and she took that as the initiative to slide into you. She slowly pulled out and drove back in, in a swift, hard motion, eliciting a loud, surprised moan from you. She repeated this for a little while, watching her dick disappear inside you, only pulling out to thrust back in with vigour, each time causing a moan to escape your lips.

“Please. Faster.” You managed to say and she took pity.

“Okay, baby. No more teasing.” She began thrusting vehemently into you, her own groans mixing with yours as the toy applied pressure to her nerves. Noticing how your body trembled, she leaned forward, the position allowing her to move deep inside your walls, as she boldly swiped her tongue over the shell of your ear, lightly biting the lobe.

One hand moved from beside your head, distributing some of her weight to your lower back as she sat up, the shift causing her to fuck up into the front of your walls.

“Come for me.”

To her surprise, you didn’t come right away. Your body too concerned with what felt like electric shocks as you thrashed under Wanda’s body.

Words melted into nothing as they were cut off by a strangled cry, tears streaming down your face onto the bed.

She turned you over, careful not to pull out as you’d clamped down on her, as she descended upon your lips. “Oh, my good girl.” Her lips moved up over your eyes, “You did so good for me.”

You chose to use what little energy left to wrap your arms around Wanda, pulling her flush to your body as you shook through the after waves.

She whispered sweet nothings as her fingers run upon and down your side until you calmed down.

“You okay, baby? You need anything?”

You hummed, exhaustion evident in your voice. “No, that was fun.” You kissed her lips, playfully poking your tongue at her.

“But you’re still a nerd.”

She scoffed but rolled over, not missing the way your grimace as she pulled out.

“I should’ve slapped you harder.” She mumbled, as she quickly discarded the toy, pulling the duvet over you both, fearing sleep would come quick with how long you guys had been at it.

Oh well, she’d just have to teach you a lesson some other day.

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amelxa · 3 months

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bows symbols 4 u ! ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

၄၃ 𓍯 𓋭 ୨୧ ౨ৎ 𝜗𝜚 𐙚 ྀི ᧔o᧓ ꔫ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⪩⪨ ೀ 𓋜 ⑅ 𝜗𝒞 ꒰୨୧꒱ Ⳋ᧙

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amelxa · 3 months

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guys…. the way she…. the way her hips move… the slip she’s wearing….. i just think…. ohhdffxusk >_<

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amelxa · 3 months

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amelxa · 4 months

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Endless Swanqueen gifs (42/∞)

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amelxa · 4 months

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Friendly reminder that Lana fucking improvised this scene (Regina sitting on Emma's desk) and what we see here is JMo's real reaction, not Emma's 😌

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amelxa · 4 months

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Me at 3am clicking “keep reading” on the most jaw dropping, earth shattering, pantie dropping, smutty fic when I have to be up in 3 hours

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amelxa · 4 months

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dark Regina/evil queen who kidnaps the reader to keep as a cute little pet, and punishes you when she finds you're trying to escape~

Tw: yandere/dark content, kidnapping, noncon/dubcon, nsfw/smut, mean fem dom, gender neutral/genitalia not specified

You'd been taken by Regina one day after she saw you taking a walk in the forest near your home. You hated having to stay with her, so everyday you did your best to escape from her palace, the prison she insisted you call 'home'.

She thought it was adorable how often you'd try to escape, honest. Never once did she consider the possibility that you might actually get away, and even if you did, she wasn't that worried. Between her magic and the several guards she had under her employ, nothing and no one would keep you away from her.

So imagine her frustration and disbelief when one day you did manage to escape, having gotten help from one of the kinder guards who hated having to see you locked up like that. To say she was furious was an understatement, as she had the guard in question tortured until they finally gave up your last known location: the woods near the palace.

She immediately set off after you, wanting to be the one to find you herself so she could have the pleasure of punishing you for your misdeeds, and once she did, let's just say she wasn't too kind.

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here." You freeze, having been caught by Regina trying to climb up a tree as a means of escape. Before you could say anything, the branches from that very tree latched itself around your torso and limbs, bringing you down to face the Evil Queen herself. "So, you think you can run away with the help from one of your little friends, and I won't notice? You think I wouldn't find you, hm? Think I'm too stupid to know where to look?" "I- n- no, that's not it at all- please, please just let me go-" you begged, tears forming in your eyes as you wondered what sort of things she had in store for you. "Let you go?" She tilted her head while staring at you menacingly. "Now, why on earth would I ever do that?" As she's speaking, you can feel one of the branches from the tree start to rub against your crotch, and you let out a surprised gasp, flailing around as you tried to break free from its hold, but it was no use. It fact, the more you tried to escape it, the more it tightened its grip, clearly under one of the queen's powerful spells. "N- no, no- I- I don't want this- please, free me-" Tears began streaming down your face as you pleaded with Regina, and she stepped towards you, a fake pout on her face. "Aw, you don't want this, my pet?" She asked in a mocking tone. "Well, that's too bad, because I do." The branch between your legs began rubbing against you in a much harsher way when Regina took another step closer, grabbing your chin roughly as she smirked at you. "Oh, you poor thing. Look at you, so pathetic," she cooed, her gentle tone an obvious contrast from everything else that was happening to you in the moment. "Please- pl- please-" you begged once more, but at this point you were unsure of what you wanted, a fire lit deep within you as you began moving your hips against the branch, trying to keep in time with its thrusts. "'Please', what, sweetheart?" She asked in a teasing way, her hand moving from your chin down to your neck before resting on your breastbone. "It sounds to me like you're enjoying what's happening to you." "N- no, I'm not, I- I just-" You felt something other than a branch move against you, something that felt like, for lack of better words, pure magic. It teased your needy hole before plunging up in you, causing you to let out a sound that was something between a shriek and a moan. Regina was relentless with her magic, using it to (pretty roughly) get you off, her eyes never once leaving your face, which you felt burning up from the embarrassment of both what was happening and how much you were enjoying it. Due to the fast and harsh pace of the thrusting, from both her magic and the tree's branch, you came rather quick, your already heightened senses being overstimulated when neither one stopped, even after you'd already cum. Finally, after what felt like decades later, both came to a halt, and you were let go of completely, the physical magic exiting your aching hole as you were unpromptedly dropped by the branches, landing on the dirty ground beneath you. You were exhausted from being overworked sexually, and the fall from the tree to the forest floor certainly didn't help. What made it even worse was when you remembered why you were there in the first place, a sadistic laugh piercing the otherwise quiet forest from the queen above you. "Oh, I wouldn't spend a long time resting down there, pet. After all, we're just getting started. And if you think that was all it took to satisfy my anger, you're dead wrong."

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amelxa · 4 months

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Late Night Cuddling

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amelxa · 4 months

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one step forward (and two steps back)

Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Andrea Sachs (MirAndy)

Summary: recently divorced, Andy and Miranda can’t seem to stay away from each other

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, choking

Notes: it’s my first time writing in the dwp universe and my first time with this pairing so be gentle ? Completely unedited

Miranda couldn’t remember a time she didn’t have a migraine. Her neck was stiff and the throbbing, pulsing pain behind her eyes showed no hints of stopping anytime soon.

The deadline for next month’s issue was fast approaching, not that you could tell from the passive demeanors and positively glacial pace from her insipid employees. She pursed her lips and glanced away from the runthrough and felt a twinge of satisfaction as the greener folks of the crew currently in her office trembles with fear of their impending doom.

Good. They deserved it.

Maybe they’d throw together something at least halfway decent next time, instead of wasting her day away.

She dismissed them with an uninterested flick of her wrist and reveled in the silence that came with the soft click of her door shutting, decidedly not looking at the offending front page of Page Six that has absolutely nothing to do with the bout of sickness that washed over her.

Perhaps her steak from last night wasn’t cooked properly. She should have Emily call Smith & Wollensky to complain.

Miranda brought out her copy of the book and her favorite red pen, gifted to her by Yves himself, planning on eviscerating the lighting in the latest shoot, but her stubborn mind refused to be distracted any longer.

Sighing, she uncovered the magazine from the mound of proofs on her desk and stared at the offending headline and the accompanying cliche grainy photo. Nuclear Wintour out with Newest Bombshell ? Miranda scoffed. Who came up with these things anyway? The headline on its own was of no consequence to her, it was the blurry pixels of the young woman on her nemesis’ arm that caught her attention. She was shielding her eyes from the flash of the photographers, but Miranda would recognize that smile anywhere.

Andrea looked so delightfully happy. She would know–she used to be on the receiving end of all that blinding optimism.

She hadn’t seen it in months.

Her stomach churned.

There was no time to dwell as she was suddenly aware of approaching footsteps and haphazardly attempted to cover the front of the magazine with anything within her reach.

The door opened and Miranda straightened up in her seat, only to breathe a small sigh of relief when Nigel was the only one to enter her space.

“Why has my office been flooded with people terrified that you’re about to fire them?” He asked with a quirked brow. “Was the runthrough that bad or are you just cranky that the newest Emily still hasn’t perfected your coffee order?”

Miranda shot him the most withering stare she could muster without renewing the pain behind her forehead, but the man just smirked. The gall. She should have just let him join Holt Industries if only for Nigel to come crawling, begging for his job back after its untimely demise.

Pity.

“They shall be fired if they waste any more company time on something as trivial as tears and you all would best remember that,” Miranda sneered, but she didn’t have the energy to put any real malice behind it.

“My, my, I thought they must be exaggerating your foul mood,” Nigel said in jest, approaching the desk. “Might I suggest a Xanax?”

Miranda glared at him but the intense brightness of the overhead lights had her wincing in pain. She tore her glasses from her face and massaged her temples. “Did you want something or did you just come here to annoy me?”

Nigel rounded the desk and opened the drawer he knew contained Miranda’s stash of Excedrin and held out two white pills for her to take. He waited patiently for her to take the proffered goods from his hand and swallow them down with some Pellegrino before answering.

“I only wanted to inquire as to what you were planning on wearing tonight?”

Tonight? Miranda had nearly forgotten about the little soiree she was required to attend. Thank god she was neve expected to stay longer than her customary fifteen minutes.

“Pick something for me. Perhaps a deep blue or purple. You know what I like.” She dismissed him with a wave of her palm and pretended to focus back on her work, but Nigel didn’t budge. “Nigel,” she sighed, “I have things to do. Leave me.”

To her horror, her oldest friend shifted the proofs from her desk to uncover what has become the bane of her existence.

“Oh?” Nigel’s lips twitched. “And does that include woefully staring at pictures of your ex-wife like a heartbroken teenager?”

Miranda glanced down at the magazine in his hands and quickly went back to the book. “That drivel? I barely even noticed. Is that really her?”

NIgel chuckled quietly under his breath, seeing right through Miranda’s ploy for what it really was–an attempt at seeking information. “This drivel that’s soured your mood so badly your assistants refuse to be within twenty feet of you?”

Miranda jerked her head up and watched as her assistants cowered behind their computer monitors, eyes red and swollen. Surely she hadn’t been that harsh, had she?

“Fine,” she acquiesced with a curt nod. “Send them home. I’ll need to get ready soon anyway.”

Nigel straightened up and prepared to leave, deciding it would be best to let Miranda get over whatever it was that was bothering her in peace, but turned around just before he got to the door. “You could just call her, you know,” Nigel informed her, his voice soft. “She might like to hear from you.”

Miranda scoffed. “And tell her what? There’s nothing left to say between us.” Her voice had an air of finality in it, and Nigel understood just how dejected she was over this. He decided to risk one last comment before he scampered away.

“You never know what might come out of trying.”

The rest of Miranda’s day seemed to drag on and pass instantaneously at the same time. She downed the rest of the glass of champagne in her hand, depositing the flute on the empty tray of a passing server as she spun to find her next fill of alcohol.

She desperately needed it after all the press’ questions aimed at her over the cover of Page Six. What did she think about her ex wife walking out with her sworn enemy? Just dandy, thank you. Did she approve of the budding romance? Did she think they would become the next power couple in fashion?

She wanted to throw up.

Miranda swallowed down the unease of picturing Andrea with someone else and focused on the betrayal instead. She felt her skin get hot in her irritation. Good, she thought, she’d rather have the motivation of anger than wallow in self pity and drown in humiliation.

None of those sniveling journalists would have ever thought to ask her any questions as inane as those they did tonight, and she had her ex wife to thank for that. After they all saw how smitten she was with Andrea, how a warm hand on her arm and a gentle smile could easily calm any of the ire they’d fueled, they no longer pulled their punches.

Tired of looking for more champagne, Miranda excused herself to find the private bathroom on the second floor. If she couldn’t have a drink to calm her nerves, perhaps a stern talking to in the mirror would do.

The door hit the wall with a bang as Miranda entered the bathroom which was thankfully empty. The porcelain of the sink was cool under her palms and worked to soothe some of the emotion flooding Miranda’s body.

It isn’t until she speaks that Miranda realizes she never heard the door close behind her.

“The bathroom isn’t the best place to hide from the hoi polloi, Priestly.”

Of course she would show up when Miranda is at her most vulnerable, wearing one the latest couture dresses one could get their hands on, no less.

The deep green silk dress hugged Andrea’s full curves and the slit up the thigh showed off toned and shapely legs. Miranda’s mouth went dry as she took her time noticing all the details of the fine craftsmanship. It was as if Valentino himself sewed the fabric together to create the most mouthwatering amount of cleavage Miranda had ever–

Her brain finally caught up with her ears.

“Evidently,” Miranda answered dryly, averting her gaze from her ex lover to peer at herself in the mirror.

Andy stepped forward and Miranda had to close her eyes–smelling the perfume Miranda had bought her for their first anniversary on Andrea’s skin did funny things to her stomach. She had half expected her to have dumped the remnants in her coffee one morning as a final fuck you.

“Careful,” Andy teased, “if anyone else sees you in here they might start to think La Priestly is human.”

“After my fourth divorce?” Miranda scoffed. “I’m not sure there’s a thing I could do to convince them I’m anything but the Devil in Prada.”

She looked up to find Andy’s face in the mirror, her warm chocolate eyes trained on the bare skin between the lapels of Miranda’s suit jacket. She hadn’t understood why Nigel insisted upon such a garment for tonight, but now his reasoning made more sense.

Andy’s pouty lips were parted just slightly and her cheeks had gone pink. Miranda lips twitched into a ghost of a smirk. She could see just how much Andrea enjoyed seeing her in such, it was written all over her face.

“And you’ve followed me in here because…?”

Andy’s head snapped up and she caught Miranda’s gaze. “Is it a crime to have a conversation with my ex wife?”

Miranda’s eyes flicked back to her own reflection to fix imaginary out of place strands of hair, her jaw set. “Your new paramour won’t mind, then, when she finds you gallivanting off to the bathroom with me?” Miranda spun around to look at Andy directly. “Or does she not know what we used to do in here?”

Miranda couldn’t help but watch as Andrea’s perfectly plump and red bottom lip was pierced between her teeth. She was somewhat jealous that she was no longer allowed to sink her own teeth into Andrea’s flesh whenever she felt like it.

“I forgot how hot it is when you get all jealous and possessive.”

She knows that back before they finally admitted their feelings for each other that Andy had actively tried to make Miranda jealous at functions like this. And most of the time, it worked. Miranda would stalk over to Andrea’s side and eviscerate her conversation partner until they fled, then she would place a hand just above Andy’s backside where it would stay for the rest of the evening.

Once they became an official couple, not much changed except that instead of leading her through the crowds to talk with other important guests, Miranda would usher Andrea to the nearest private room where she would remind her just who she belonged to. Miranda let out an almost imperceptible squeal as she recalled just how wet she would always find her when she finally slipped her hand between shaking legs.

But that wasn’t her place anymore, was it?

“Does Anna not do it for you, then? It seems like she would be your type.” Miranda spat, unable to keep the vitriol from her voice once she remembered that Andrea arrived on the arm of another woman.

Andy smiled knowingly, Miranda was all bark no bite when it came to her, only lashing out because she felt vulnerable.

“Not that I owe you anything,” Andy shot a look at the editor, “but it’s purely business with Anna.”

Miranda’s eyes swept over Andrea’s form again. “And I’m sure she gifted you with a gown that emphasizes certain…assets…of yours out of the kindness of her heart?”

Andy folded her arms across her chest and glared in her ex lover’s direction. “And what is that supposed to mean, Miranda?”

“Hmm,” she hummed noncommittally, “you’re a smart girl, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually.”

Andy frowned in hurt and Miranda almost regretted her words. Almost.

“Well,” Andrea chuckled in self-deprecation, “if that’s what she’s looking for, she should try hiring me. I’ve always preferred my women bossy, you know. Besides,” she stroked a hand down Miranda’s arm in what was supposed to be a calming gesture, but had the opposite effect as Miranda shivered at the touch. “I don’t think anyone in the world of fashion would touch me with a ten foot pole. They all know you’d kill them if they tried.”

Miranda smoothed her features and Andy knows she has caught her. Once the mask is in place, she’s all but won.

“It’s of no importance to me where you spend your nights.” Miranda almost sounded convincing, but her averted gaze sold her out. She must’ve known, too, because she took her leave and didn’t look back as Andrea called out for her to stop.

Miranda, once safely in the backseat of the car, realizes she does not want to go back to the dark and empty townhouse.

Just a block away from home, and in a split second decision, Miranda lowers the privacy screen.

“Roy, take me to the office.”

Knowing better than to ask any questions, the driver dutifully turns back around and Miranda stares out the window at the flashing lights.

At the office, Miranda is better able to compartmentalize. She can focus on work and not be bothered by trivial matters of the heart.

She stalked through the empty halls of Elias-Clark, reveling in the silence for the first time that day. She allowed herself a small smile; it’s the simple pleasures that make life worth living, really, and if all it takes for her to find a sense of peace, no matter how small, she should take it.

As Miranda moved farther into the building and towards her office, the smile on her lips faded. There, perched on the edge of her desk, was Andrea in all her glory.

Dread filled her to her core once she saw the magazine in her hands.

Andy doesn’t need to look up to realize when Miranda arrives. “I can’t believe these people call themselves journalists,” she said conversationally. “You know they think I’m after Anna’s Vogue money?” She snorted at the absurdity. “Didn’t they look at our divorce proceedings? You gave me almost half of yours. Why would I need more?”

It’s true. Miranda had to practically force Andy into taking it, using the girls as an excuse, but really she just felt that it was the only thing she could offer Andrea. An apology, in a way, one that meant absolutely nothing to the other woman.

“What do you want?”

Andrea finally looked up from the page she was reading. “You used to be a lot nicer to me when you were actively trying to get in my pants.”

The two stared at each other in a battle of wills, waiting for the other to concede, until Miranda throws her coat and purse to the couch and heads to the bar. She poured herself a shot of whiskey, downed it, and filled her glass along with another, silently handing one to Andrea.

Miranda, no matter how hard she tried, could not get the image of fucking her wife on top of her desk out of her mind. It didn’t happen very often, but when it did, she wasn’t able to properly concentrate in her office for weeks. What she wouldn’t do to bend Andrea over the glass and make her plead with Miranda to let her come undone underneath her.

A slave to her mind, Miranda stood between Andy’s legs, resting a cool palm high on a naked thigh. The legs parted automatically under her touch and her knees grew weak at the movement. She leaned in close, her breath tickling brown locks and their chests pressed against each other, and lowered her voice. “Is this what you came for, Andrea?” She whispered hotly.

“Miranda,” Andrea whimpered, still aching from their conversation in the bathroom. She hasn’t been this close to her former boss in ages, it was intoxicating.

Emboldened by Andy’s reaction, Miranda slid her hand farther up the thigh until her fingers tangled in the waistband of lacy La Perla panties. She can’t quite help but to squeeze the hip under her palm, knowing just how melty her lover becomes under a strong grip.

Andrea bucks her hips, trying to find friction to relieve the pressure between her legs, and Miranda chuckles darkly into her ear. It isn’t why she showed up here, but Andy can’t remember why she had. Her mind went blank as soon as Miranda touched her for the first time in months.

As she placed a gentle kiss behind Andy’s ear, Miranda dragged her knuckles over the lacy fabric, tracing the folds from entrance to swollen clit. The thin garment did nothing to soak up the liquid seeping from Andrea’s core, allowing her juices to cover Miranda’s long fingers.

The office is silent besides their labored breathing as Miranda slowly circles Andrea’s clit through her panties. The brunette cries out when a finger brushes her just where she needs it, and Miranda takes the opportunity to attach her lips to a long neck, unwilling to pass up the chance to mark the woman beneath her.

“Miranda,” Andy moaned, feeling the teeth sink into her skin, and let her hands trail up Miranda’s back to knot themselves into short, white hair.

She presses a slender finger into Andrea’s entrance but becomes frustrated when the panties block her from truly feeling the slick heat she craves. Without a second thought, Miranda rips the garment from Andy’s body and shoves the tips of two fingers inside her in one fluid motion.

Andrea cried out in ecstasy and Miranda couldn’t recall hearing a sweeter sound in all her life. “Tell me how badly you want it,” she requested, stilling her fingers’ movements so she could watch her lover squirm.

“Fuck, please, Mira,” Andrea ekes out between desperate rolls of her hips.

Once they both realize what she’s said, the women go rigid. And just like that, the moment is gone.

Miranda, catapulted back into reality upon hearing the nickname, dropped her hands to her side and took a step back. Avoiding Andrea’s gaze as she catches her breath, Miranda runs a hand through her hair in an attempt to smooth it from Andy’s assault, to no avail.

“You haven’t called me that since before–”

“I’m leaving,” Andrea blurts out, unwilling to let Miranda bring up the elephant in the room. “Next week,” she repeats, “I’m leaving.”

Miranda, getting the feeling something was wrong, demands, “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

Andy, wanting to look at anything other than Miranda, pulled her dress back to its proper place from where it was bunched at her waist. It was wrinkled beyond saving at this point. “That business with Anna? We’re doing a joint piece on, um, women in the military and keeping their femininity.”

Miranda nodded slowly, unable to understand why Andrea was so hesitant to share this information with her. “So you’re going to Virginia, then?” She asked, assuming she would be doing her interview on base. “Why would I need to know that?”

Andy refused to look at her.

“Andrea,” Miranda said in that deadly tone of hers, as a dark thought occurs to her, “you are going to Virginia, are you not?”

No answer.

“Where, Andrea?” Miranda gripped Andy’s chin between her fingers, forcing brown eyes to look into her own icy blues.

The anguish written all over her face told Miranda all she needed to know before it was said. “Afghanistan. That’s where it matters the most–”

“No,” Miranda growled, “absolutely not. I won’t allow it.”

Andy looked up at her angrily and forced her jaw from Miranda’s grip. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Miranda, but I don’t work for you anymore and we aren’t married either. You have no say over any of this. I only came to tell you as a courtesy.” She stood from her seat on the desk to search for her missing underwear.

“And the girls?” Miranda asked, switching tactics once she realized her old one wouldn’t work. “You’re just going to leave them too, even after promising them you wouldn’t abandon them like all their other stepparents have?”

It was a low blow and Miranda knew it. Andrea had not been anything short of amazing to her girls, loving them as if they were her own. She had gotten so lucky to have Andrea watching over her and her daughters. Preying on Andrea’s love for them was borderline cruel but desperate times and all that.

“I talked to them before their father picked them up, actually. They think it’s cool and they’re excited for me.”

Trust Andrea to poison her daughters against all good reason.

“They don’t understand, Andrea,” Miranda argued. “They’re children. They don’t understand all the intricacies of war. If they knew the chances of you not coming home, they would be just as upset with you as I am!”

Andrea, having finally found her ruined panties, shoved them into her bag and turned to look at her ex wife. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”

“It was more than idiotic! How did you expect me to react? Did you want me to be happy that you’re going to risk your life for no reason? That I would jump for joy over the prospect that you might never come home to me again?” Miranda’s nostrils flared and her chest heaved.

Andrea, frozen to her spot, was helpless to argue.

“I don’t understand you, Andrea. You ask me for a divorce and won’t bother to listen to any sort of reason on the matter, then once it’s official you can’t stay away from me. You come here,” Miranda swallowed harshly, “and you act like you still love me, then you leave again.”

Andrea felt hot tears spill from her eyes and she angrily wiped them away as Miranda kept going.

“Is this all just a game to you? A way to get your revenge on me for the crime of caring about my job?”

Andrea doesn’t recognize her own voice as she responds. “Is that why you think I asked for a divorce?” She steps forward but Miranda stops her.

“Then why did you leave me?”

Andrea swallowed upon hearing all the hurt and confusion in Miranda’s voice. She hasn’t ever heard her sound so broken and defeated and it tugs on her heartstrings. “I’m not mad at you for your devotion to your career. I just wish it didn’t have to mean forgotten dates, birthdays, and anniversaries. I used to hope for just a single text from you a day. We barely saw you–”

“You knew what my job was like when you married me. Did you expect it all to change once we said ‘I do’? I’ve made it clear since day one that Runway is my priority.”

“Miranda, I wasn’t asking to be your number one priority. All I wanted was to be somewhere on the list,” she smiled sadly.

“It used to be enough for you,” Miranda looked up at her with watery eyes, “so what changed?”

“Of course it was enough when I was twenty-something and was just excited that someone like you would deign to look at someone like me!” Miranda flinched at the harsh tone her ex wife used. “What happened was I grew up and realized that I deserve more than that. I deserve someone that acts like they want to be with me.”

Andy waited for an answer but Miranda stayed silent. Without another word, Andy turned around to walk out of the Elias-Clark building and out of Miranda’s life.

If she had stayed, she would have seen Miranda break down into heavy sobs until she passed out on the couch from exhaustion.

Andy, after a long night of packing and making arrangements for her travels, wearily made her way to the couch, flopping down with her second cup of coffee of the day.

She had just taken her first delectable sip when she was interrupted by an insistent knock on the front door. She contemplated just waiting whoever it was out and pretending to not be home, but the knocking turned into full on pounding and she relented.

“I don’t want whatever you’re selling,” she tried to make her voice sound stern as she yanked open the door, only to be rendered speechless by the sight in front of her.

“Andrea,” Miranda breathed in relief, “good.” She nodded in approval before noticing Andy’s apparel, or lack thereof. Her eyes raked in the younger woman’s appearance—her long, bare legs leading up to the shortest pair of boxers Miranda has ever had the pleasure of viewing, and a worn out and gray college shirt. Exquisite.

Andy nervously watched as Miranda’s blue eyes grew dark as they drank their fill and became keenly aware of how messy she must look. Stressed fingers pulled the loose hairs from her bun behind her ears in an effort to seem more presentable, though she wasn’t sure why she bothered. After all, Miranda had seen her in all states of dress while they were married. There was no reason to try to impress her now.

“Well,” Miranda lifted a pristine brow in amusement, “are you going to let me in, my darling?”

The brunette stepped back to allow the editor to slip into the apartment. Miranda, in all her glory, was in Andy’s home. One they never shared. Her heart panged at the thought but her ex wife sought out her gaze with shining eyes.

“It’s good to see you again.” She came in close to press the customary kisses to each cheek and all Andy could smell was her and the mousse she always used in her perfectly coiffed hair. God, she hated herself for it, but she yearned for those lips to take her own, to make them hers again.

The thought made her so angry after the last time they spoke. It ended like every conversation they’ve had for months—in an argument over the end of their relationship. It hurt every time because they both knew it wasn’t a lack of love that ended their partnership. But love isn’t always enough.

“Why are you here?” Andy asked, morose as she flopped back onto the couch. “If you’re looking to berate me for my life’s choices I’m not in the mood.”

Miranda hummed and motioned for Andy to lift her head and allow her to sit on the couch with her, leaving chestnut hair in the editor’s lap. “Does one need a reason to visit her wife?” She asked, ignoring the way the woman resting on her thighs tensed, instead focusing on tracing the features of her face with her fingertips.

“Ex wife,” Andrea gently reminded her, sounding hesitant, and Miranda wondered whether she may have made a mistake, but a small smile formed on full lips. “Or is this a case of retrograde amnesia? Did one of the clackers finally have enough and knock you on your ass?”

“Cute,” Miranda snarked, reaching out to gently pinch a thigh. “But I won’t argue with you over a matter of semantics, my love.”

Andrea turned to look at her with a critical eye. “Someone’s in a good mood,” she said cautiously, hoping whatever she said next wouldn’t take Miranda’s warmth and closeness away from her. Her curiosity over the change in demeanor since they’d last seen each other won out, however. “Any particular reason why?”

She figured Irv must have died or Anna decided to retire to have put Miranda in such a happy place. Andy tried to recall the last time she saw Miranda looking so truly at peace with life, and her memories took her back to how she acted during the first few years of their marriage, when they were both so sure they would spend the rest of their lives loving each other.

A dark shadow crossed Andrea’s face. Had Miranda come to tell her she’s found another? That there was no chance of a reconciliation between them?

Miranda soothed the frown lines appearing on Andy’s forehead with the pad of her thumb. “None of that, darling, I’m just elated to have caught you before you left on your…excursion,” she said as if the word caused a bad taste in her mouth.

“I don’t have until tomorrow,” Andy supplied helpfully, taking the opportunity to snuggle in just a little bit closer to Miranda. She didn’t know when she would next get the chance to be so close to the love of her life, to feel the blissful calm she always received from her touch.

They were silent for a moment, each reflecting on what could have been and where they would be today if they’d never parted ways. It was bittersweet to think about, all the time they’ve missed out on.

Miranda glanced out the window to view the distant skyline, trying to muster up the courage to say what needed to be said. She would not allow herself to mess this up for a second time, she couldn’t stand it if it happened.

“Andrea,” Miranda hesitantly started, her fingers halting as they raked through soft brown hair, “I don’t want you to go.”

Andy made to protest but Miranda shushed her with a thumb to her lips. She needed to get this all out now before she lost her nerve or remembered where she lost her pride.

“I don’t want you to go because I want you to be here at my side. I want you to stay here where I can protect you and keep you safe. I wish to be in range if you ever were to need me,” Miranda swallowed. “I’ve recently taken some action to ensure my availability for you, should the occasion for it ever arise.”

Andy was confused as to what Miranda was trying to say. All her words seemed coated in so many letters of subtext that anyone else couldn’t decipher their true meaning. She sat up, falsely hoping that changing positions would improve her cognitive abilities enough to uncover the truth.

She needn’t have gone through the trouble, though, as Andy recalled just how well she speaks La Priestly.

Just as Miranda was silently willing her to understand, the realization hit.

“Oh my god, Miranda, did you quit your job because I told you I’m going overseas?”

The older woman rolled her eyes. “No need to be so dramatic dear. I may be taking a step back from my editing duties, but that’s only because I’ve come into a seat on the board that’s recently been vacated.”

Andy launched herself into the woman’s arms, perhaps with a bit too much enthusiasm if Miranda’s soft oof was anything to go by, and wrapped her arms around her neck. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” the brunette whispered into cropped white hair as slender arms curled around Andrea’s midsection, holding her tight.

Suddenly, Andy pulled back just far enough to look Miranda in the eye. A thought had occurred to her and she wasn’t quite sure if it was a good one or not. “Miranda,” she started slowly, “you didn’t…do all this to try to get me to stay, did you?”

“No,” Miranda said simply, brushing a few errant strands of hair back into their rightful places. “By being on the board I get more control over the magazine, which will be inherent to Runway’s continued success, no doubt.” She sighed, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “I’ve given so much of my life to Runway, and I don’t regret it, but I’ve been thinking that there are some parts to life that I’ve been missing out on. Some things I’d rather not let slip between my fingers.”

The look in Miranda’s eyes told Andy that the things she spoke of meant her. There was a glimmer of something there, something akin to hope or maybe longing.

“And if, somehow, my plans to retire from my position as CEO managed to convince a certain someone that I’m worthy of a second chance, so be it.” Andy saw straight through the faux nonchalance and took Miranda’s words for what they were: she practically had Miranda on her knees begging to take her back. “Is it working, by chance?”

Tears welled up in Andy’s eyes and refused to be blinked away, even as she smiled and rested her forehead to Miranda’s. “And if it was? What would you do then?”

“Well,” Miranda cleared her throat, her hands guiding Andrea’s body to position the woman in her lap, “I should think I’d want to celebrate with my wife,” she glided her hands up Andy’s sides, grazing the skin under her shirt, “maybe go out to dinner, have dessert after,” her fingers traced ribs inward, her knuckles grazed the underside of a bare breast, and Andy rewarded her with a soft gasp for her troubles, “and, perhaps, if you’re amenable,” her voice dropped down an octave, the way she does when she has plans for Andy, “end the night with dessert.”

It worked on Andy, just like it always has.

She shifted her hips so that her center pressed directly against the clasp of Miranda’s pants with a groan under her breath. “And if I’d prefer to start with dessert?” She grinded her hips down, not taking her eyes from Miranda’s. “Would that ruin your plans too much?”

“And spoil your dinner, Andrea? Tsk tsk tsk. Whatever am I going to do with you?” Her hand made its way to Andy’s lower back where it encouraged the younger woman to press herself further into Miranda’s arms.

“I have a few ideas,” Andy’s breathing ran ragged and her words sounded so deliciously breathless that Miranda, in the next instant, had Andy flat on her back with Miranda hovering over her.

She caught sight of those lips, the ones she’d been dreaming of for three months, two weeks, and five days, and there’s nothing more she wanted than to lay claim to them, but something stopped her.

She cleared her throat. “You know how deeply I love you, yes?” Blue eyes bored into brown ones, needing to know the younger woman understood her. “That there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you should you ask for it.” She took a breath and Andy saw all the pent up emotion Miranda had hidden all throughout their divorce proceedings displayed on her beautiful features. “The last few months have been absolute hell without you. I never want to do that again, do you hear me?” Miranda tried and failed to sound stern for perhaps the very first time in her life. “I was ruined the moment I had a taste of life with you. I don’t ever want to experience your absence from my life again. Let me,” Miranda hesitated, “let me make it up to you for the rest of my life, because not a single thing matters more to me than being here-,”

Andy couldn’t take it anymore. She tugged on Miranda’s hair until the distance between them was almost certainly none, connecting their lips for the first time in months. She’d almost forgotten how absolutely intoxicating it was to be the sole focus of Miranda’s attentions and ministrations.

As utterly needy as they both were, the kiss was surprisingly slow, each taking their time remapping the other’s lips and mouths. There was no rush, just slow, maddening passion between them. It was nasty, really, how dirty the simplest things with Miranda were. How could Andy be dripping before she’s been properly touched?

Miranda, on the other hand, couldn’t believe how incredibly lucky she’d gotten. The loveliest woman in the world was willingly in her arms, moaning softly into her lips as she devoured them. The older woman pulled back from the kiss just to watch Andrea try to follow to keep their lips connected.

What a sight it was to see her to wanton, her eyes darkened and her cheeks flushed, just begging for Miranda to make love to her.

Wanting the barriers between hers and her lover’s skin, Miranda sat back on her heels and expertly began to unbutton her blouse. She watched in fascination as Andrea's eyes glazed over at the scene playing out in front of her, watching as more and more of Miranda’s lovely skin was revealed to her. Miranda flung her shirt someone far away, not caring where it landed, and went to remove the offending garment between the brunette’s legs only to be stopped by the reverence on Andy’s face as she reached out to touch her.

Warm hands caressed the soft expanse of Miranda’s stomach, as if she was a thing of porcelain, push too hard and she’d break. For Andy, she wanted to memorize this moment. Miranda, shirtless and between her legs, lipstick smudged across the whole bottom half of her face and her hair sticking out at all angles, was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen. Truly, she didn’t think there could be a more beautiful sight if God himself had tried to create one.

Miranda must have seen some sort of want in her eyes because in the next moment, her lips were back on Andy’s, and much more insistent this time. Her hands couldn’t get enough of the creature in front of her and she let them dip into the waistband of her boxers. She looked up for a moment, just to check that Andrea was still okay with the way things were progressing, and snatched them away from her body at the other woman’s nod.

She didn’t waste a second pressing her body to Andy’s nearly naked one, reveling in the warmth of their connected skin. Her hands explored and caressed until they reached Andrea’s plump backside, where she delighted in squeezing. Andy’s little moan and jerk of the hips allowed all her wetness to spread over the older woman’s stomach. Miranda groaned when she felt just how ready her lover was for her. One of her most favorite things about Andy was just how enthusiastic she was during lovemaking, and she didn’t disappoint this time.

In a show of strength, Miranda pinned Andy’s arms above her head and loomed over her as they both caught their breath. “Are you staying?” Miranda demanded to know.

Andrea’s eyes fluttered closed and she nodded. “Yeah, baby, I’ll stay.”

Miranda leaned down to press a gentle kiss to swollen lips. “Good girl,” she whispered across a warm cheek before sliding down Andrea’s body until she was face to face with a soaking cunt.

She had half a mind to tease the girl into oblivion but it wasn’t likely that either of them had the patience for that. Maybe next time.

Miranda kept eye contact as she moved her tongue on either side of Andy’s core, licking the space between leg and labia to watch as her lover’s eyes fluttered closed in appreciation. Of course Miranda still knew her body inside and out.

She took mercy on them both and took her first taste of Andy’s juices, licking and sucking her way through pink folds.

“Oh fuck, Miranda, I forgot how good you are at that,” Andy said between pants, her hands finding purchase on slim shoulders.

Miranda chuckled into her pussy before lifting her head up with a smirk. “I’ve barely gotten started darling,” she responded, diving back down to eat Andrea with reckless abandon. “You taste so good, sweetheart.”

There was nothing Andy could do to stave off her orgasm once Miranda started actually moaning into her pussy, and the older woman had to hold down her hips so she could properly finish Andy off.

Andy didn’t get a second's rest after she came because Miranda promptly shoved her two middle fingers as slowly and as deeply as they could into her. A hot and wet tongue stroked her clit at just the right pace to build her up again as the fingers inside her curled.

Andy gasped at the new sensation, her eyes opening wide to see Miranda already peering up at her, watching her face contort in the pleasure that she was giving her. A third finger was added to her already aching hole, and just like that, Andy tumbled over the edge again.

Miranda hummed, pleased at the reaction she was getting, and continued her assault between her lover’s legs. Once it became clear that Andy would need a little more help this time, and elegant hand wrapped around her throat and applied pressure as she said, “I know you can give me one more, can’t you darling? Be good and cum, now.”

She knew what the commanding voice did to the younger woman and wasted no time dipping her head back between her legs to suck her swollen clit between her lips. Andrea’s hands gripped Miranda’s hair as tight as she could muster when her body went rigid and her legs shook as she came on Miranda’s fingers.

The way Andy’s inner muscles clamped down on Miranda’s fingers was absolutely divine, but she knew her lover was spent and gently removed her hand. She watched, delighted, as cum ran down plush thighs in clear evidence that she had pleased Andrea so.

As gently as she could, Miranda sucked and licked at swollen folds until they were sufficiently cleaned. Once she kissed her way up Andy’s taut stomach muscles, the girl was still recovering from her triple orgasms.

She chuckled softly to herself and settled her head into the crook of Andy’s neck. “Was that any good, dear?”

Andy didn’t have to open her eyes to know what the smirk on Miranda’s face looked like, but she was far too spent to care.

“It should be illegal how amazing that is,” she mumbled into white hair.

“Now that’s an idea. Did you already pack away the handcuffs?”

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