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#minors dni ৎ୭
wandasaura · 1 month
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WHAT DID I SAY
summary — the four times you fucked up and called your doms by the wrong name
warning(s) — college au, fuck-buddy relationships, marijuana use, alcohol consumption, face slapping, spitting, biting, body writing, restraints, spreader bars, mentions of branding, semi nipple torture, hickies, shotgunning, choking, butt plugs, spanking, ass biting, pussy slapping, doggy style, strap-on usage, cum-filled strap, fingering, oral, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denial, degradation, praise, daddy kink, mommy kink, captain kink, sir kink, literal filth, men/minors dni
authors note — first little headcanon/oneshot for know my place! hope you enjoy my little college stoners who fuck like rabbits. can totally be read seperate from the au!
know my place
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
Maria – 
The wine is warm beside Maria’s bed. The bottle of Prosecco momentarily forgotten about as a symphony engages beneath the darkness of night and blankets. It’s not often that Maria pulls the blankets overtop of herself as she works to unravel the intricate knots and coils in your belly, but she’s chosen tonight to share the beauty of your body with only herself and the silicone toy secured around her hips. Your moans are muffled by her skin, teeth embedded into her shoulder as she rocks the strap-on into you harshly, the bulbous head dancing along your cervix with every third stroke. She’s practiced in this tango, an expert in knowing your body, but the wine has impacted your reception to her actions, and as she pulls the strap out of you almost completely only to thrust back into you quick and harsh, a name leaves your lips that isn’t her own. 
Maria has never been soft with you in moments of time where some part of her body is buried within yours. She’s rough, and assertive, and entirely domineering as she splits you open and gives you only as much pleasure as she’s willing. With Maria, you’re never in charge. The cards are held tightly in her ironclad grasp and you’ve learned better than to try and guess that she’s holding. The wine however, has severely impacted your judgment. You’ve engaged in this dance for months now; been left with the bruises and aches of her touch for days afterward, and yet you’re disoriented enough to cry out for Wanda as she drills your sopping cunt so perfectly. 
“Mommy!” The title slips off your lips before you can search for the correct term that’s filed away in a section of your brain labeled ‘Masha’. Maria has never been Mommy, in fact, she’s always turned her nose up at the title and joked that Wanda’s entirely too harsh to be called something so maternal, and she’s less than amused when the five letter name falls onto her shoulders as she works to unravel you completely. 
Her hips stutter to a stationary position, the silicone dildo fastened around her hips deep within your pleasure soaked core, but unmoving and unwilling to start again. There’s a moment of silence that passes between the both of you; Maria’s eyes are hard, slitted and dark as she stares down at you in a drunken haze, brain struggling to process what you’ve just let slip. Your eyes are wide, light and soft as you meet her stare and attempt to win her forgiveness without seeing the repercussions of your actions. You were a fool to call her Mommy, but you were an idiot to think she’d let it go so simply. 
The silence that had fallen over you ended abruptly, replaced by the echoing sound of a sharp slap meeting your cheek and bouncing through the air before you’d had a chance to process the pain at all. Your head snapped to the side, your unharmed cheek pressing against her pillowcases that smell somewhat of smoke and vanilla. Your eyes pinch closed, anticipating the next hit that will land against your heated skin, but it never comes. Maria’s hand tangled into your hair instead, pulling your head back until your neck is craned and the expanse of your sensitive skin is exposed enough for her teeth and tongue to mark. 
“What’s my fucking name?” Her hips snap into yours with each word that she mutters against your neck, sharp bites and sensitive stings encasing your body in a delectable buzz of pleasure and possessiveness. You’ll bear these marks for days to come, indentations of her teeth and patches of purple from her lips adorning your skin that can’t be easily hidden with makeup or your longest turtleneck. Everyone who looks at you will know that you’d found yourself beneath a warm body and had been helpless to their assault, but only you’ll know that it was Maria Hill who had been your intimate attacker. Each lovebite that she presses into your skin is a subtle claim. You’re not Wanda’s in this moment, you’re not Natasha or Carol’s either, you’re entirely Maria’s and she’s reminding you of such as her hips drive hard against your own and the silicone strap that’s coated in your arousal attempts to bruise your cervix in the most addictively painful way. Each strong thrust sends you reeling farther into bliss, but she’s waiting for an answer and you’re not getting anything more until she hears you call her the right name. In her opinion, she’s being entirely lenient with you, there are a plethora of ways she can go about reminding you who you belong to, and yet your wrists remain unbound and your breasts remain unmarked by the leather of her favorite flogger that’s just an arms distance away. “Whats my fucking name, slut? Or do I need to carve it into you? How pretty would you be with my name on your thigh; ruined for anyone else who even tries to get between these legs? My little slut forever.” 
A strangled moan falls into the air as Maria sinks her teeth into the skin of your neck just beneath your ear, and your hands that have remained at your sides throughout this entire exchange shoot up to scratch at her back, blood bubbling to the surface as you spare to ounce of lightness to your touch. She’s marked you, now she’ll bear your marks for days to come. “S-Sir!” 
Maria hums, satisfied with your answer, but unwilling to forgive you completely. Her hips continue to pound into you until she reaches her high, thighs quivering as she moans in pure delight until she’s too sensitive to continue on with her ministrations. The strap-on leaves your entrance quickly, your overstimulated and sensitive walls pleading for it to stay, but Maria’s done for the night, and she’s decided that you are too. She reaches for the abandoned glass of wine, taking a sip smugly as she straddles your hips, damp toy splayed across your naked belly as your chest heaves and you look up at her pleadingly. 
“You’ll get to cum when I don’t have to remind you who I am.”
Natasha –
Natasha’s hips continue to rock into you even as she leans forward and captures your lips between hers. The room is filled with a thin layer of smoke, the scents of weed and sex entangling together and yet it's somehow entirely Natasha as you lay beneath her, willing to take whatever she wants to give you. Your head is fuzzy, filled with only thoughts of her and the lightness that the bud had brought over your senses. Her body is warm as her naked chest presses against yours, already marked by her passionate kisses and bites that will linger for days to come in secret. Her pupils are blown wide, a combination of her lust and the joint she’s rolled skillfully. Her fingers are educated in the art of many things, but unraveling you is one of her most prized hobbies. Her lungs are filled with smoke from the last drag she’s taken, and as the seconds linger on with her lips still pressed firmly to yours, unmoving but eager to claim you intimately, she exhales into your open mouth and forces you to take the smoke that she fills it with. It burns as you inhale, slipping down your throat smoothly and filling your own lungs, but it’s pleasant and you greedily allow her to continue until all that remains is an empty kiss that was once filled with weed. The smoke trails out in wispy strands of white and gray, and they dance between your faces until the open space claims it and the visual is gone. 
When she pulls away, there’s a devilish smirk on her lips that even another drag can’t erase entirely. She raises the joint to her lips again, eyes fluttering closed as she sits back on her heels, the cum-filled strap she borrows from Carol still buried within your walls and yet agonizingly still as she lets her head fall back in contentment. The cloud of milky white smoke that settles around her is entirely erotic, almost a halo of intoxication above her head, but there’s hardly a second for you to admire how ethereal she looks in this state before she presses into you firmly and resumes her rocking. Her pace is punishing albeit shallow, the tip of the strap-on hitting your perfect spot so softly it feels like butterfly sings batting against your skin, but she’s ruthless with her speed and the quick motions of her hips are enough to have you gripping at the sheets and looping your legs around her waist to draw her in deeper. 
Natasha laughs smugly at the sight of you so fried and desperate. She raises the joint to your lips with one hand, encouraging you to take a hit before her other hand wraps loosely around your neck. She doesn’t apply any pressure as you take a long drag, eyes fluttering closed as you involuntarily shiver at the taste lingering on your tongue, but the presence of her grip is enough to have your hips bucking into hers. 
“F-fuck sir!” You cry out when she obliges with your silent request and begins to thrust deeper into your core, the head of the toy pounding right against your sensitive spot with practiced ease as your head falls back against the pillows and your lips release the joint. A cough falls off your lips as you moan around the smoke in your lungs, eyes becoming watery from the burning sting, but you have no time to recover from the hit before Natasha’s hand is tightening around your neck and her hips are setting into you faster and harder. 
Her lips purse as she collects spit on the tip of her tongue, letting it fall against your flush cheek before she smears it down your neck, fingers that are still holding the lit join trailing across the expanse of your sensitive and worked over skin. She’s playing with fire now, quite literally, smearing her spit across your chest until she finds a home at your pebbled nipple and pinches roughly, but you have no ounce of self-preservation in your body as you watch the lit joint fall closer and closer to the marked skin of your chest as she tightened her grip on your neck and leans cynically close to your face. Her eyes are dark, clouded with lust and intoxication. Her hips have set a punishing pace and each time she drives the head of the strap into your g-spot your vision goes white with pleasure. 
“That’s not my fucking name. Are you really that much of a slut that you’re thinking about Masha as I’m fucking you. We can get Masha if you’d like, I’m sure she’d love to watch as I fuck you into my mattress until the only words you know how to say are Daddy please. I’m sure she’d love to lay between these legs and watch my cum spill out of you before I push it right back in and plug you up. Fucking whore. Is Daddy fucking you too good? Is that little brain so overwhelmed with pleasure that you don’t even know who’s fucking you?” Natasha lightens her grip on your nipple, bringing the joint back up to her lips before she drops it into the ashtray on her bedside table and grips the dildo, throwing her head back as her thrusts become choppy. “I bet you’d let anyone fuck this cunt. All you want is to cum. Fuck!” She curses as she drops her body against yours, lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss as she squeezes the shaft tightly, cum spurting against your walls and marking them with a milky whiteness. “Cum with me. Fuck!” 
With her permission, the coil in your belly finally snaps, and you arch into her touch as she rides out her own orgasm, the cum slipping down your legs and coating your inner thighs and her sheets. “Fuck Daddy!” 
“Good girl. Scream my name. Let Masha hear how good I’m making you feel.” 
Wanda – 
When Wanda invited you over to fuck, you’d anticipated something quick. What you hadn’t expected, was for her to bind your wrists to her headboard and force your legs apart with her recently purchased spreader bar. You’d been at her mercy for hours now, writhing on the bed beneath her as she took her time working you up. First it had been her fingers that dared to ruin you, the ringed digits slipping between your folds and teasing your clit and entrance until you were dripping onto the bed sheets and pleading with her to give you something more. She’d agreed easily, not even putting up a fight to prove her dominance over you. Those skilled fingers had turned into a skilled tongue. The hot muscle pressed against your clit, lapped at your entrance and slurped up the damp arousal that glistened beneath the moonlight that bled into the room from the open window. She was relentless in her teasing, and as overstimulated as you were beneath her touch, you were equally as frustrated. She’d been at it for hours, bringing you just close enough to taste the sweet relief of your orgasm before she pulled away and began the process all over again. You’d cursed her out six times since she started, and each time she merely chuckled against your core and slapped her palm down harshly against your cunt, sure to let her fingers brush against your clit for merely a second before it was gone and her tongue soothed the ache but brought nothing more. 
Your hands itched to tangle into her hair, and yet each time you reached for her you remembered how she’d so intricately bound you to the headboard with the softest rope in her collection. Your hips bucked upward as she pulled away again, your entrance clenching around nothing as your clit throbbed and protested. A broken cry fell off your lips as you shook your head frantically, needing her back on you and relieving the intense ache that she had single handedly created. Her lips and chin glistened with your arousal as she smirked down at you, the vibrating egg between her legs working her up to an orgasm you could only beg for. 
A whine rippled through your chest before it tumbled into the room, the words you’d been chanting for hours mangled and wrong as they came spiraling out fast and strung together. “Captain! P-Please!” Wanda growled lowly at the slip, her eyes dark and sinister as she leaned forward to grab your jaw and force your eyes on her. 
“What did you call me?” Despite how she articulated every syllable in the sentence, she wasn’t really looking for you to respond to her. In a swift motion, she’d reached across the bed to grab the panties that she’d pulled from your legs when you’d first joined her in the bedroom, and shoved them into your mouth. The balled up fabric was damp and uncomfortable as it sat on your tongue, but despite how hard you strained to force them away from your mouth, you couldn’t get them out with your arms bound and her body restricting your movements. 
Your eyes tracked her movements as she fumbled around in the drawers of her bedside table, thighs straddling your waist as she leaned forward and subsequently rocked the vibrating egg farther into her tight channel. She trembled in pleasure, but everything about her was always so perfectly kept that it was hardly noticeable to anyone who wasn’t you. Her rustling had lasted mere seconds before a black marker that had been used weeks prior to mark up a project poster now in her grip and uncapped. You had no idea what she planned to do with it, but there wasn’t any way for you to ask if you wanted to. You were helpless to watch as she slid down your body and dragged the inky tip across the skin of your breasts before moving downward. 
You gasped when the cold tip of the marker dragged across the skin right above your mound, thick black letters that you had to strain your neck to read lingering on your skin only to be gone when you washed your body of her touch later that night. ‘Mommy’s Slut’, was written just above your cunt, but Wanda wasn’t satisfied in stopping there. She dragged the felt tip across the inside of your thigh, holding your legs still as they wiggled away from the ticklish sensations she provoked. A thick arrow pointed straight at your weeping entrance, and Wanda was cruel enough to write, ‘cum slut’ at the tip of the arrow. A cry fell off your lips when she threw the marker onto the floor, and returned to her position between your legs. Her mouth was cruel as it worked you up to the edge, but unlike the times prior, she hadn’t stopped when you’d begun to wriggle around as an indication of your approaching orgasm. You fell over the cliffside in bliss, but that had only lasted long enough for your orgasm to crash over you and then she was gone, forcing you to ride it out with no further stimulation. 
A harsh slap met your sensitive cunt when you finally stilled on her bed, teary eyed and desperate for something more as you stared up at her with wide pleading eyes. Wanda wasn’t willing to comply however, and instead of satisfying you fully, she trailed harsh bites up your torso and between the valley of your breasts before her lips, still glistening with your arousal, found a home against yours. The dainty pink panties with a frail little bow on the waistband still between your teeth and properly wet from your saliva, but she hadn’t trailed so close to your face to kiss you. Instead, she settled her harsh glare on you, a sinister smile curling the edges of her lips upward as she let a damp finger stroke across your cheekbones, “I guess Mommy has to remind you of who you belong to. We’ll see if you deserve to cum in a few days.” 
Carol –
The buttplug is an added sensation that Carol uses to her advantage as she works to unravel you completely before you both have to leave for class. You’re not new to butt plugs, Maria’s quite the fan of them, but you’re new to them with Carol and the ways that she likes to toy with your stimulated body. You're on all fours in the center of her bed, knees sinking into the mattress as your hands grasp and twist at the comforter, absolutely desperate for relief that’s been slowly building beneath the surface. Her fingers are buried deep into your core, curling into your g-spot and massaging your velvet walls with pride. Her tongue circles the plug in your ass teasingly, and every couple of minutes when you least expect it, she presses against the base of the plug in tandem with her harsher thrusts before she scissors you open. 
Carol smirks against your ass as she sinks her teeth into your left cheek, her hand slapping down on you right just as she flicks her thumb over your clit. A muffled moan falls off of your lips as you bury your face into the comforter, your hips rocking back on their own accord as you attempt to chase after her touch, a strangled cry of, “Daddy more!”, vibrating your cheek as you twist your head to rest your cheek against the comforter and stare back at her. 
Carol is relatively unbothered by your slip of her title, but she doesn’t let it go entirely, not that you’re aware yet. Her fingers work into you easily, her thumb rubbing harsher, tighter circles around your clit until you're spasming on the bed. She smirks against the globe of your ass, her thumb pressing firmly against the plug with the hand that’s not buried between your thighs. “That’s not my name Princess and you know that.” Carol says smugly, grinding her hips down onto the edge of the bed as she chases her own relief, knowing there’s not enough time in the ten minutes she has left with you to reverse your position and have you go down on her. 
“Captain!” You cry out sharply, reaching your hand back to grasp onto Carol’s as the coil builds in your belly almost unbearably. The engineering major merely smirks, digging her teeth into your ass a final time before she encourages you to spill around her fingers. That’s all it takes for you to cave and tremble as she continues to scissor you open and curl her fingers into your cunt, but as quickly as your orgasm comes, she’s pulling away and throwing your clothes at your head. “You’re really going to go to class like that?” You question her, laying dazing on her bed as you twist onto your back and watch her run a baby wipe between her legs before she’s wiggling into a pair of fresh panties and reaching for her pants. 
“Yes, and so are you. Get up. That plug doesn’t come out until I take it out.” She says in the most unphased tone, reaching for the crewneck that’s been laying across her desk chair for days, not even bothering to reach for the bra that’s only inches away. 
“W-What?” Your eyes go wide as you sit up in bed, wincing slightly at the pressure in your ass as the plug presses against the inner parts of you sweetly, ropes of pleasure shooting through your core. 
“You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you, Princess?” Carol merely winks before she’s flying out of the room, shouting that you have three minutes to meet her in the car before she leaves without you and makes you walk to class.
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satoruwiki · 2 months
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Hey! I really loved your somno piece with Sukuna and story about Gojo’s lactation kink. If you take requests, can you do Sukuna having lactation kink 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 please please please, I’m going feral thinking of this 😩
♡ - ̗̀ LET ME HELP YOU...⇢ ৎ୭
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minors, ageless and blank blogs dni.
content: nsfw; smut; porn w/o plot; afab!f!reader; noncurse!sukuna; implied relationship; lactation kink; breeding kink (if you use a magnifying glass); fingering; unprotected sex (on purpose lol);
w.c: 1.2k
n/a: sorry for making you wait for so long, i couldn't think of a good scenario to begin this with and tysm for the support! hope this makes worth the wait :(
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"Ah! It hurts…" you hissed as you held your breast, wincing in pain at the fullness of it. You desperately needed to pump the milk out, but your child was asleep, so you had to find another way to empty it.
"What happened?" Sukuna's deep voice echoes behind you; you turn slightly and notice his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
You sigh as you take a small artifact from among the cupboards. "Oh, nothing. I just produced more than what he eats," you mumble, adjusting the breast pump to your chest to relieve the pressure in your milk-filled boob.
Sukuna hums in acknowledgment, understanding the reason for your discomfort now, and wraps his beefy arms around your waist, depositing soft kisses under your jaw. "Next time, let me know when it happens," he said, sounding like an order.
"What for?" you sounded confused. In your mind, there was no reason to do so.
"Just do it," he reiterated.
You woke up with a familiar sharp pain in your chest, your t-shirt wet around the nipple area. You cursed under your breath; you had fed your baby not too long ago, and it was likely that he was not hungry now.
"Honey..." you nudged your boyfriend, prodding him to wake up. "... 'kuna, wake up."
You heard a soft -and slightly annoyed- groan from him. "What's wrong?" Sukuna grumbles groggily, with his eyes still shut, his voice muffled by the pillow.
"It happened again; it hurts," you whisper back.
"Okay, lie back in bed," he instructs you, which leaves you dumbfounded. Is he being serious?
"Then why did you tell me to tell you when my breasts were full again? Aren't you going to do something about it?" you hissed; the discomfort in your chest and his somewhat apathetic (or at least that's how you interpreted it) response had your irritation simmering within you.
Sukuna sighs heavily, sitting on the bed and gently pushing you back onto the mattress. "I am," he reaffirmed, hovering above you and lifting your shirt over your bust, small blobs of the white liquid running down your mounds. "You don't have to be angry," he kept his voice passive, but his eyes expressed the opposite, carrying a glint of lust in them. 
"What're you-" A gasp cut short your words as his mouth latched onto your swollen breast to suck on the hardened peak, gulping the fluid oozing out of it.
"Sukuna, wait, no- Ah!" you mumbled, breathy moans spilling out of your parted lips as you ran your fingers through his pink locks of hair, pulling on them at each hard suck of his, earning a low groan from him.
Sukuna's tongue lapped over the pebbled flesh and swirled around your areola, revelling in your honey-sweet taste. His skilled tongue confused you; it drifted your mind into a foggy state and sent a heat pooling in your lower back, making it hard for you to think and know what you truly wanted. 
Your back arched off the bed, and you shuddered at his teeth grazing over your delicate nipple, drawing a loud whimper out of you. "Easy there, I'm oversensitive now," you sputtered, your words coming out as a weak plea.
His eyes rested on your gaze, a sly smirk gracing his lips moist in his saliva. "I'm surprised you haven't stopped me yet," he remarked, "Feelin' good, eh?"
His teasing words went up to your cheeks, flushing them red. You weren’t sure if you wanted to stop him or not; the pain of your swollen tits was alleviated and replaced by the pleasure of his lewd ministrations on you. "Stop looking at me like that," you whined, blushing up to your ears.
"Don't tell me what to do, silly. I'm doing you a favour right here," Sukuna sighed with a chuckle, his lips latching onto the neglected nipple, a soft grunt escaping as he gave your sensitive skin a broad stroke. With a scowl on his face, Sukuna delighted with your breast milk, an elixir to his taste buds and a stimulating to his cock, which throbbed and left a wet patch on his boxers. "You taste so damn sweet. Might be my new favourite drink after your squirt, of course." 
You squirmed underneath him, overwhelmed by his mouth and vulgar words. His hand traced a path from your breast to your centre, snakily slipping under your wet panties. His calloused fingers circled your bud and teased your folds, coating them in your essence. "So fucking soaked f'me, dirty girl," he murmured, bruising the skin of your breast.
His name spilled out of your plump lips as he glided two of his thick fingers into your dripping cunt, pumping and scissoring inside your gummy walls, the knot in your stomach snapping and coming undone on his fingers.
"Already? I haven't put my dick in yet," Sukuna teased you, drawing an embarrassed whine from you.
He pulled his fingers out of you, his tongue lapping and licking them clean of your release as your pussy clenched around nothing, begging to be stuffed with something thicker.
Without being able to wait any longer, Sukuna unfastened the cloth that confined his erect cock, with a thick vein protruding from the side and smaller ones running down its length, his urethra leaking precum gliding down to the base.
He aligned himself with your pussy, teasing you by sliding his gland up and down across your folds and kissing your swollen clit with it. Before he could sink inside your wet walls, you halted him, putting your hand on his abdomen. "'kuna, condom," you reminded him.
He ignored your comment and snorted, leaning down to trail kisses from your jawline to your collarbones. "For what? We already have one," he mused biting at the skin on your throat, "I wouldn't mind giving you another one."
His cock sank down slowly into you, the initial burning stretch of your pussy being worked open pulling lewd noises out of you, your legs encircling his waist til he bottomed out. 
"Holy shit, you feel so fucking amazing," he huffed, his girth moulding your clenching walls to his size as he fucked you, his cockhead kissing your spongy spot at each deep thrust, driving you to ecstasy.
You moaned his name like it was a mantra to you, your nails scratching his back muscles, holding onto him for dear life and feeling your second orgasm closer than ever. Enamoured with your cunt, Sukuna babbled sweet nothings to your ear, telling you how good you took him in and marking you as his property. "I fucking this pretty pussy, sucking me in so greedily. She knows who she belongs to, doesn't she?" He panted, licking off the bead of sweat rolling down your neck covered in his markings.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes," you sobbed out, your brain numb from the heaven-sent pleasure his cock made you feel.
"So pretty, already cock drunk," he hissed, his abs clenching and glistening in sweat, close to his climax.
Your orgasm hit you like a trainwreck and was unexpected. Your legs quivered and went limb, your pussy fluttering around his shaft. Sukuna cursed under his breath, the spasms of your walls making his dick pulse and release his seed inside you, his hips stuttering to a stop as he reached his high.
Sukuna pressed his forehead against yours, careful to not crush you with his weight as he steadied his breath. "What do you say?" he puffed exhaustedly. 
"Thank you," you mewled weakly, still dizzy from your high.
"Good girl."
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venusiansilk · 7 months
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𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 -` 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ´- 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤. ৎ୭
a note from ˚₊‧꒰ა io ໒꒱ ‧₊ : i know it’s tempting, but please don’t feed him. he’s not starving, just depraved ! ꒰ྀིᐢσ̴̶̷̤ . σ̴̶̷̤ᐢ꒱
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she. writer/poet. sometimes musician. black. reading/writing blog with a dash of art n my creations. thirty; minors dni. no age indicator ⇢ blocked. ⋅♡⸝ currently on semi-hiatus ⸝ 𝄈
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ᝰ 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 – masterlist ⚬ mastertag ⚬ library ⚬ wips ⚬ snips ⚬ creations ⚬ poetry ⚬ art ⚬ asks ⚬ support ᝰ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 – satoru ⚬ kento ⚬ sukuna ⚬ xavier ⚬ rafayel ⚬ zayne ⚬ dan heng ⚬ wriothesley ⚬ mammon
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ᰔᩚ 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: vampire!gojo / header: @/rice5x.
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hercssy · 1 year
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꒰ ৎ୭ ꒱ . . BELOW ! ‹𝟹
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you will find my set of rules that i have set in place when it comes to roleplaying with me! please follow them, they are there for a reason :’) i’m not doing it to be an asshole.
𓈒 𓆇 ˚ ONE. › literate rps.
i will only ever do literate roleplays and i am a heavily detailed writer, i ask that if you are interested in roleplaying with me is that you’re the same in this regard! i am only a writer of third person, i don’t do first person or asterisk roleplays!
𓈒 𓆇 ˚ TWO. › dni if….
you’re under 18+, i’m an adult i don’t wanna interact with minors when it comes to roleplaying. dni if you’re against the lgbtq community, if you’re racist and just a downright bully bc i’ll just bully you back. this should go without saying, but do not react if you don’t have basic human decency to respect others. i won’t respect you if you don’t respect me, it goes both ways and i don’t have the time for rude people.
𓈒 𓆇 ˚ THREE. › nsfw.
i am open to most nsfw things, such as smut, blood, guts & gore, kinks, fetishes, etc. however i do have my limits which are: rape, non-con, dubcon, incest, pedophilia, child abuse, abusive relationships. things such as sexual assault or child abuse occurring in a background/backstory is completely fine! i don’t mind that but if we are actively roleplaying it, that’s a big no no.
𓈒 𓆇 ˚ FOUR. › discord only. 
i will only roleplay on discord as it’s easier for me and not to mention, i can make servers for us which will give us so much access to play around with, to make our stories come to life and the relationships we make with the characters! so please add me on discord to actually rp, i don’t mind if you dm here to ask but i do all roleplays on discord!
𓈒 𓆇 ˚ FIVE. › be patient.
i am working and also studying in childcare, so i’m not going to be active all the time to respond or chat. you might see me be active but i’m just looking or responding messages from close friends. i promise i will be patient with you if you can be patient with me <3
𓈒 𓆇 ˚ SIX. › doubling up, ocxcc.
i only do double up roleplays, i will not do 1x1 roleplays so if that’s something you’re looking for i’m not going to be the person for you (: one for one to me is not only fair, but our ocs and plots + timelines can all intertwine which is better immersion and even more interaction in my opinion. i also only do original character x canon character rps ! no ccxcc pls, i’m just not interested in it!
𓈒 𓆇 ˚SEVEN. › ghosting.
ghosting will lead me to removing you from our discord server and my discord in general. ghosting is rude and i won’t appreciate it, if you’re no longer interested in roleplaying with me that’s totally okay! but a message sent my way would be nice — considering i would have created a server and such for us.
𓈒 𓆇 ˚EIGHT. › introduce yourself.
if you’re interested in roleplaying with me, here’s a lil format you can message me with, so i can get to know you! your name, age, pronouns, fandoms you’re interested in, love interests, open to nsfw content.
if you’ve made it down to the bottom, you’ve reached the password: just survive somehow. be sure to place this in your introduction somewhere! i look forward to meeting you all <3
˚   ♡ 🌱 ⁺   ⟡
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kzscrl · 2 years
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༺ ৎ୭ ༻ thalia/lia | 26 | she/her | personal blog | ༺ ৎ୭ ༻
༺ ৎ୭ ༻ 18+ only // minors or ageless blogs dni/follow ༺ ৎ୭ ༻
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rwibbonz · 2 months
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𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ꒰ she/her ୨ৎ 21 ୨ৎ femme ꒱ ᡴꪫ
ৎ୭ cis men + minors dni ৎ୭
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edensrose · 2 years
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Hi i really love your tower pf god writing 💝 Can i req nsfw khun ageuro agnis and hutz when they jealous? If you feel uncomfortable you can just write sfw!
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sure thing! wow my first hatz request 💕
ৎ୭ — summary : khun aguero agnis and hatz [ separately ] jealousy smut headcanons
ৎ୭ — type : headcanon
ৎ୭ — genre : smut
ৎ୭ — warnings : MINORS DNI // sexual content // jealousy // biting + marking // overstimulation // orgasm denial // penetrative sex // some degradation
ৎ୭ — word count : 555
ৎ୭ — taglist : @shanmie @hirzaeth // please fill out this form if you'd like to be added
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ⵓ‧₊˚ ʚkhun aguero agnisɞ ‧₊ ༉
•Easily gets jealous. The situation determines whether or not he can hide it well. On most occasions, he tries to remain calm and collected. However, if he becomes beyond annoyed with whoever you are directing your attention to - it can result in him pulling you off to somewhere private
•It doesn’t matter whether it’s the bedroom or the closet empty room he can find. If Khun feels as though he’s too threatened - he’ll drag you off without a care and pin you against the closest surface. Be it the door, wall, bed or even table
•Possessive sex with him is a lot rougher than usual. It is when he indulged in marking your neck up with a plethora of hickeys and bites. Doesn’t purposefully leaves them in places where others will be able to see. He wants them to know that he was the one that left them on you
•Lots of overstimulation. Khun will leave you a complete and utter mess by the time that he is done with you. His goal is to make your mind numb with pleasure to the point you’re mewling and crying for him - only him
•Will encourage you to say his name. He wants everyone to hear who’s making you feel good
•Probably wouldn’t get too harsh with the degrading, just a tad bit of it because he is a little frustrated
•All in all, he leaves you sore - of course, he immediately showers you with aftercare and love. If he feels as though he’s overdone it, he’ll whisper a soft apology to you whilst pressing gentle kisses down your shoulders
꒰ ꒷꒦୨hatz୧˚₊๑
•Hatz tries really hard to not show that he’s jealous. He tries even harder to not act irrationally. However, sometimes he can’t control the frustration that comes over him and he ends up behaving rather blunt and forward
•He won’t drag you off immediately and instead wait until you’re both alone together. He’ll subtly lock the door before pushing you up against the wall - yet he would prefer the bedroom. Considering he doesn’t intend on letting you go any time soon
•Hatz may be a little rougher than he usually is, although, jealous sex would usually bring forth an uncommon, teasing side to him. He denies you of multiple orgasms, making you beg and plead for some sort of release. It’s a way of assuring him that you’re needy for him
•However, all this teasing does not last long as he will be unable to be so mean towards you for too long. Once he’s inside of you and thrusting is when he truly lets out whatever he may have been feeling
•It is then that he makes you release over and over again. He’s just as desperate as you as he feverishly thrusts into you. His hands leave little bruises from his tight hold. He prefers to leave hickeys in places where only you will see them
•Won’t degrade you but he will become a little more talkative, telling you to call out his name or to tell him how good he’s making you feel. He needs that little assurance
•After everything is said and done he may feel a little bad and immediately opts for aftercare and cuddles. Will definitely apologize and kiss over all of the marks that he’s left
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fsrintaro · 3 years
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ৎ୭ BEFORE YOU FOLLOW
❖ this blog interacts with +18 content and dark content so you must be 18 or above to follow. this is for your own safety.
❖ no hate, only good vibrations.
⤷ 1) i will bark at you and 2) this is for you
❖ ageless/blank blogs will be soft-blocked and minors are to be blocked.
ৎ୭ BEFORE YOU FOLLOW
❖ you are a minor
❖ you do not fit the basic dni criteria (i.e. homophobic, racist, sexist, etc.)
❖ you just want to shit on me, my moots and my works
ৎ୭ BEFORE YOU FOLLOW
❖ i do not take requests but suggestions, ie. if i feel inspired by your suggestion, i might write out a drabble
❖ i do not write for sc*tting, actual pedophilia, beastiality, g0re, sn*ff, femdom, specific mental illnesses, furry pr0n, self harm, specific body types
list is not exhaustive
❖ i write for haikyuu and jjk characters !!
for haikyuu, characters are timeskipped. for jjk, i will only write sfw content for the students.
❖ i try to be as gender neutral in my writings as much as possible !! ˘͈ᵕ˘͈
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© 2021 fsrintaro — BY PROCEEDING THROUGH MY PAGE, YOU HAVE READ AND UNDERSTOOD ALL THE RULES AND CONDITIONS APPLIED.
happy scrolling ! *‧.₊˚*੭*ˊᵕˋ੭.*
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wandasaura · 2 months
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THE ONE YOU REACHED FOR
summary — after you decide to be a brat as a means to get natasha’s attention, she punishes you, though wanda thinks she’s entirely too soft
warning(s) — married wandanat, dom/sub relationship, bratting, punishment, grinding, humiliation, spanking, orgasm control, daddy kink, minor choking, strap-on usage, degrading, praise, oh so much reassurance, aftercare, wanda being a menace, reader being a menace right back, essentially enemies to lovers but reader’s stubborn, men/minors dni
authors note — this series was inspired by gold rush on ao3! i highly recommend checking it out! that being said, i may have gotten carried away with this dynamic but i absolutely adore wandanat and the budding relationship between wanda and r (even if r is too stubborn to see it yet), apart of the you are in love universe
you are in love universe
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
Natasha’s office was cold. Your legs and arms were adorned in a layer of goosebumps that even a night in the Antarctic would envy, but she made no indication that she even noticed your violent shivering. You were just thankful she hadn’t made you face the wall, at least now you could watch as she sifted through emails and excel word documents with ease. Your nose scrunched in disgust when you caught sight of a particularly grueling math equation, but she had tackled it with grace, something she did frequently. Nothing could rattle her composure, not even your brattiness on the hottest summer day New Jersey had seen all season.
You heard Wanda’s footsteps before you saw her, but there was no doubt in your mind that the auburn-haired Sokovian was the one coming up the stairs. Nobody else had a key to the house, nobody save from you and well, you were already inside. The Maximoff’s were a high profile couple. Even before you’d gotten into a relationship with Natasha had you known of their existence. It was hard not to know of them, their multi-billion dollar law firm was at the top of its game and every celebrity and major corporation wanted them on their side. You’d want them on your side too if it ever came down to it, but thankfully you’d managed to stay out of trouble. Legally at least.
You saw Wanda before Natasha did, though you knew the scarlet-haired woman had heard her office door squeak on its hinges when she entered. Your cheeks flushed pink when Wanda’s eyes met yours and she raised a questioning brow at your predicament. She didn’t address you, no she completely ignored you in favor of sparking up conversation with her wife, the woman you had initially sought attention from.
“What’s she doing here?” Wanda questioned smoothly, her perfectly manicured hands finding their rightful place on Natasha’s shoulders, working out a knot near the nape of her neck. You huffed your annoyance, watching them with narrowed eyes as you pulled your arms closer around your torso and tried to keep warm. Initially, the cold had been comforting. It was blisteringly hot outside, and when you’d entered your cheeks had been flush from the sun, but now you wished Natasha would turn down the air conditioning or at least take pity on your chattering teeth and throw you the hoodie that laid unused on the couch beside her.
“Wanted attention. She almost had it too.” Natasha shrugged, turning her head just enough to meet Wanda’s waiting lips. Their kiss was sweet, nothing short of marital, but it made your belly burn with envy as you watched Wanda get what you wanted.
“She’s freezing, Nat.” Wanda rolled her eyes softly, having noticed the slightest tint of blue that adorned your usually very pink lips. She reached for the hoodie on the couch, chucking it over to you despite her wife’s protests. That was all the attention you received before she was back to being entirely occupied with her wife. “How long has she been in the corner?”
“Mm, bought half an hour.” Natasha mused only half interested in the conversation Wanda was attempting to have, her fingers already back to typing frantically on the noisy keyboard. Typically, you loved the sound of her typing. It was fast paced and soothing, but now you wanted nothing more than to throw the keyboard across the room and demand she never touched it again. You were in no position to be making such demands, but still you let yourself imagine the satisfaction of the action.
You slipped the hoodie over your head, smoothing down your wild hair the second your hands had slipped past the tight cuffs at the bottom of the sleeves. The article was warm and well worn, though all you really cared to notice was how it smelled distinctly of citrus and calm. You could identify the softest note of coconut and maybe mandarin, and your brows furrowed. Natasha wore vanilla. She never ventured into anything fruity, claiming she herself was fruity enough to spare the general public of smelling it too. That meant the hoodie had to be Wanda’s, and while irrational, you felt like it burned your skin by just touching you.
“What’d she do? Bite too hard?” Wanda teased, not even glancing in your direction despite you being the topic of conversation. It was utterly humiliating, but you’ve learned to expect nothing less when Wanda’s around. The woman has a real knack for getting under your skin, intentional or not. “You should really train your pet better.”
“I’m not a pet.” You huffed out, crossing your arms over your chest defiantly, but your outburst was ignored by both women. If you didn’t know superpowers were just a thing of fiction, you would’ve believed that you’d become invisible.
Natasha laughed at Wanda’s assumption, though she shook her head in response. “I asked her to give me five minutes. All the money I give her, you’d think she would’ve gotten herself a watch. Needy little thing couldn’t even last three before she was crawling into my lap and trying to undress me.”
“You're answering Pepper’s emails.” Wanda laughed amusedly, completely bypassing Natasha’s summary of events, not at all surprised by your unwillingness to be patient. Patience seemed to be your biggest undoing, even after seven months of being taught the importance of it. “She’ll have a heart attack. It hasn’t sat in your inbox for at least two weeks yet.”
You couldn’t see Natasha’s face, but you could imagine her rolling her eyes. After almost a year of being under contract with the lawyer, you’d come to know her mannerisms like the back of your hand. This type of back and forth wasn’t new to you, but it’s the first time you’d been forced to watch without any kind of attention yourself. To say you hated it was an understatement.
“Did I tell you that you could leave that corner?” Natasha growled, not even having to look over her shoulder to know that you were starting to migrate toward them. Your footsteps were light, perfectly inaudible, but as well as you knew her, she knew you even better.
“I want you!” You whined rather petulantly, not caring how you came across, not caring that you’d probably just earned yourself at least twenty spanks for not only talking back to her but for leaving your post before you’d been given permission. You’d played this game too many times before. Wanda had seen you play this game too many times. But still, you never learned how to make things easy for yourself.
“Did I tell you that you could leave that corner?” Natasha all but growled, still not turning around to give you even a sliver of attention. Your usual soft and attentive dominant was uncharacteristically cruel today, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were toeing a little too close to the line
“No.” You answered meekly, digging your naked toes into the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Shame flooded your senses, a desperate need to be good coming over you and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Please Daddy. I don’t wanna stand in the corner anymore. It’s cold!”
“I swear, Nat. You need to do something about her attitude.” Wanda remarked, her eyes focused on her perfectly manicured fingers as she poked and pushed at her cuticles, entirely uninterested in your predicament.
“Yeah? And what would you suggest?” Natasha scoffed rather uninterestedly, switching through her tabs until she’d gotten back to her excel spreadsheet and transferred whatever finances she’d been focusing on for the last hour.
“Oh, I’d break her.” Wanda snorted, highly amused that Natasha thought you’d be able to handle whatever punishment she would have dished out for your disobedience. “That little girl doesn’t want to know what I’d do to her.”
Your insides burned at Wanda’s implication, and you couldn’t decipher if it was your burning hatred for her and her constant need to appear smug and all powerful, or if it was your desperate curiosity to take her up on that challenge that sparked such feeling in your belly. Whatever it was, it only added to the growing need between your thighs.
“Daddy.” You whined, shuffling on your feet as you contemplated going completely against her and approaching her lap with a pleading gaze, or retreating back to the corner until she deemed you sorry enough to leave it. “Please.”
“You’ve got a brat to tame, Romanoff.” Wanda mused, pressing one last kiss to Natasha’s cheek before she took up space on the two-person couch pressed up against the wall and just beneath the tightly closed and locked window.
“We both know that’s your forte.” Natasha scoffed, huffing out a laugh as she returned her attention to whatever problem Pepper was emailing her about. After seven months, you’d become well versed in the names and job descriptions of most of their employees, and you knew that if Pepper was emailing Natasha for anything at all, that it was important. A pit formed in your belly thinking about how you couldn’t even wait five minutes before taking her attention into your own hands. Clearly you’d interrupted something important.
“Daddy!” You pleaded, tears brimming your eyes as your guilt and desperate need consumed you. You weren’t sure which feeling was the cause for your tears, probably both, but you were at your breaking point and her silent game was only working to undo you faster than you could tolerate it. “Please.” You cried out weakly, nervously chewing on the string of the hoodie, not caring if Wanda would be repulsed by the action, nor if you ruined her hoodie because of it.
“Out of your mouth.” The Sokovian redhead demanded, not harshly, but not kindly either. You hadn’t even realized her eyes had been watching your movements, but your cheeks burned at the reprimand and the string of the hoodie, now damp from your tongue and teeth, dropped back to where it had previously been hanging. You hated giving her the satisfaction of your obedience, but your brain was too overwhelmed to be anything but compliant.
Your nails took the place of the hoodie’s string, already bitten down to the bone as a result of your crippling anxiety and desire to fidget with anything and everything. Natasha had been attempting to break that nasty habit, but she wasn’t around nearly enough for her efforts to be consistent. You saw her a handful of times a week, some days for the sole purpose of engaging in kink, sometimes just because she liked to know you as a person just as much as she liked to know you as her submissive, but there were weeks where she was needed on business and the best you’d get was a measly phone call and text messages. If you weren’t contractually binded, and had met by chance, you would have no hesitation about considering her a friend, though you liked much more to call her your daddy.
“Come here, baby.” Natasha demanded, pushing away from her desk and swiveling on the chair until her eyes met yours. You’d half expected Wanda to reprimand her for being too soft with you, but it seemed even the Sokovian could tell that you’d passed the point of being bratty and were now drowning in your own thoughts. There was a fine line between punishment and neglect, and even if the lawyer thought you were in need of serious correction, she’d be cruel to even consider leaving you in this state.
You approached Natasha hurriedly, sinking into her lap without hesitation. Your arms looped around her neck tightly, almost challenging her to even attempt to break your grip and send you back to the corner. “Don’t like bein’ ignored.” You sniffled, digging your face into her shoulder, hiding away from Wanda’s heavy gaze and the shame of your previous actions.
“Neither does Daddy.” Natasha stated matter of factly, only adding to the shame that was bubbling over in your belly. Her head rested heavily on the back of your head, allowing you to stay hidden as you attempted to keep yourself together. “Don’t think I’ve gotten about your snarky comment toward Wanda either, or how you deliberately disobeyed me when you took it upon yourself to leave the corner.”
You already knew where she was going with this line of conversation, and you whined pleadingly into her neck, desperate to just avoid another round of punishment in favor of being satisfied. Your hips rocked against hers, your fingers curling into her hair the way you know she likes, tugging gently when you weren’t immediately rewarded with a soft moan. Your bout of regret having clearly been forgotten about as you resumed the bratty tactics that had gotten you into the predicament in the first place.
A sharp sting spread up your thigh in seconds, the sharp sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing around the otherwise quiet office. You gasped in shock, pulling your face away from her neck to look deep into her eyes and search for forgiveness, but all you found was annoyance. You huffed, knowing that you were too far in to back down now, and so tauntingly, you resumed the act of rocking your hips into hers, not lost on the fact that she had a strap confined beneath her business slacks.
“Is it the red one I like, Daddy?” You asked coyly, letting your hand drop from where it was wrapped around her shoulders and teasingly venture down between the valley of her breasts until you came to the bulge in her pants. You squeezed experimentally, rewarded with her breathy moan when the hilt of the harness pressed against her clit, confirmation that she was at least half as worked up as you.
“Have I taught you nothing, Natalia?” Wanda growled, watching the scene unfold before her. You’d almost forgotten she was even in the room, and daringly your eyes snapped to hers. Wanda didn’t fold beneath your heavy glare, merely matching your stare with disinterest in her eyes. Natasha would’ve met your glare. She would’ve narrowed her eyes and silently dared you to keep up with that attitude, but Wanda acted like you weren’t shooting daggers through her. “If you do not want me to come over there and handle you myself, you will fix your attitude, brat.” The slight rasp in Wanda’s tone was undeniably a turn on, but you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten to you. Instead, you stuck your tongue out at her, unsure of how else you were meant to defy her wishes.
Before Wanda could get off the couch, a tick in her jaw at your blatant defiance, Natasha’s fingers were twisting into your hair and tugging your attention back to her. Your glare softened immediately, and sweetly, you placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth.
“Do I need to remind you of our rules?” She warned, and you huffed in defeat, wringing your hands together in your lap as you shook your head. “Then you will drop your attitude and apologize to Wanda.”
“I didn’t even do anything, Daddy!” You groaned, throwing your hands up in exasperation.
Clearly that wasn’t the response Natasha was looking for, because in only a matter of seconds you were being hauled off her lap but a handful of your hair and forced to bend over the edge of the desk she’d been occupying for the last hour. “What is rule number six?” She growled in your ear, her hot and heavy breath only adding to the goosebumps that adorned your skin. You’d almost forgotten about them at this point, entirely warmed by her body being so close to yours and the hoodie over your shoulders, but now the memory of them was back and your teeth chattered in response.
A heavy hand met your denim covered ass cheek and your whined, back arching upward in an attempt to dodge her next hit. “What is rule number six?” She asked through gritted teeth, forcing you back into position the way she liked.
“I will show respect to Daddy and her friends.” You huffed, “But Wanda’s not your friend! She’s your wife! That’s not in the rules!”
“She is my wife, that’s right. That means you should not only show her respect, but worship the ground she walks on, not be a disobedient brat.” Natasha seethed, landing another harsh spank to the softest spot of your thigh, not caring that you’re particularly sensitive there, nor that you let out a sharp cry of pain that was in no way mixed with pleasure in response. You’d always hated when she spanked the back of your thighs. It was one of your only limitations when you’d been filling out the contract. It wasn’t a hard no, she never would’ve struck you there if it was, but it was something you’d requested be done sparingly, and clearly you’d worked her up enough to earn yourself one.
“M’kay.” You sniffled, burying your face in your folded arms, not wanting to even spare Wanda a glance. You were absolutely certain there was a smug smile on her lips as she watched you finally be dealt with, but something told you this was the bottom of the barrel when it came to punishments she was capable of.
“How many spanks do you get when you break a rule?” Natasha asked lowly, her left hand still tangled into your hair, and she pulled sharply, forcing your back to arch in her direction, not allowing you the dignity to hide away.
“Ten.” You cried out weakly, trying to alleviate the sting in your scalp as you followed your hand. You’d always been flexible, years of sports and training had assured that, but not even that could completely help you in this situation as she pulled back farther and farther until you stopped struggling in her grip and just admitted defeat. You could safeword if you needed to. Punishments were not an exception to your comfort, but you trusted her to not push your limits, and shamefully, you knew that you needed this. You’d feel too guilty to cope if she completely forwent punishment.
“And how many rules have you broken?” She asked, the softest tinge of her accent bleeding into her words as she let herself completely surrender to her dominant headspace. You always loved when you worked her up to this point, but you hated that this time it was a result of your bratty actions that had done it.
“Um, I don’t know.” You sniffled, but clearly that wasn’t the right answer as she tugged at your hair again, ignoring your sharp cry and the twitch of your fingers as you held onto the edge of the desk.
“What are the rules?” Natasha asked, only slackening her grip the slightest bit. It helped with the sting in your scalp, but it wasn’t completely gone yet.
“I will tell Daddy what I need and what makes me uncomfortable. I will drink at least one bottle of water a day. I will show respect to Daddy and her friends. I will not touch myself without permission. I will not cum without permission. I will use my safeword if I need to. I deserve aftercare.” You rattled off the list with a practiced ease, having practically had the rules engraved in your mind since the very first week of the arrangement.
“Did you tell me that you were feeling anxious being left in that corner?” Natasha’s voice was soft, her grip in your hair gentle and comforting. She let you rest against her chest, your punishment temporarily forgotten as she walked you through the reason behind the awaiting spanking.
Even Wanda had softened in the corner of the room, looking at you with a gleam of something indistinguishable in her eyes. You hated the sight of it, but you couldn’t look away with Natasha’s hand in your hair, so instead you opted to close your eyes, and Natasha allowed you to. Talking about your anxiety was not your favorite pastime, and it was typically avoided whenever Wanda or anyone else was around, but it seems today you wouldn’t get that courtesy. You knew you could safeword, you knew you could ask for Wanda to step out during this conversation at the very least, but as much as you don’t like her, you thought she deserved some kind of explanation for your earlier actions when you’d found comfort in destroying her hoodie. She had to have some idea by now. Natasha offered you too much reassurance for it to have gone completely unnoticed. You’d rather her have the answers then speculate.
“No, Daddy.” You whispered shamefully. “I-I was okay until Wanda said you were answering Pepper. I didn’t like you ignoring me, but I wasn’t anxious.”
“What made you anxious?” Natasha asked calmly, fully loosening her grip on your hair, instead settling for scratching softly at your scalp and letting you melt fully into her, her unoccupied arm wrapping around your torso and keeping you close. You’d never had a dominant prior to Natasha. You’d tested the waters with previous partners sure, but you’d never actively pursued it in the way that you were now. Natasha’s dominance over you didn’t stop once you left the bedroom, and unlike your previous flings, she always tried to understand your triggers so she could avoid them in the future, both sexually and domestically.
“Pepper only emails you when it’s important. I couldn’t be good for five minutes and I interrupted you when you were busy. After I barged in unannounced. I felt– I feel bad.” You whispered softly, dropping your chin to your chest, desperately craving her touch and correction. Nothing would calm the raging storm of guilt in your belly until she punished you. You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself until you knew that she did, and words weren’t enough.
“Pepper does email me for important things most times, but she was only asking about the colors of the banquet, milyy. If it was important, I would have told you that.” Natasha gently informs, and your shoulders deflate in relief. You hadn’t even realized you’d been so tense, but with the promise that you hadn’t entirely disrupted her, you could relax. “Why didn’t you safeword? You know that if you start to feel anxious, no matter what, I expect you to safeword.”
“I thought I deserved to feel bad for interrupting you and being bad.” You muttered shyly, acutely aware of how Wanda’s breath caught in her throat at your explanation. You hadn’t ever shown this side of yourself to her. It was always Natasha alone who had the misfortune of catching you in an episode of panic.
“You are not bad. You are never bad. I do not want to hear you say that again, do you understand, detka?” Natasha asked sternly, and you merely shrugged.
“I was mean to Wanda, and I interrupted you, and I didn’t listen. That’s three rules. Please Daddy.” Natasha knew you needed her to spank you. You needed to clear your head, and you needed her to help you, but she wouldn’t relent until she heard you repeat her words.
“In a second, milyy.” She assured you gently, her hand leaving your hair entirely in favor of spinning you around in her arms and tilting your chin upward until you had no choice but to look her in the eye. “I want you to tell me that you are not bad.”
“I’m not bad.” You didn’t believe it. She knew you didn’t believe it, but for right now, she let it go. A soft kiss was placed on the tip of your nose, a sweet action that you had made clear you adored. Unlike the giggles it usually provoked, you merely smiled weakly and leaned into her touch.
“You’re getting thirty spanks. We’ll see if you deserve my strap after that.” Natasha nodded, content for the moment. She spun you back around, making quick word of the button and zipper on your denim shorts. Your cheeks flushed red, remembering the specific choice of underwear you’d chosen that morning. Baby pink flowers adorned your ass, and the somewhat frilly elastic edges were a gentle shade of green that would make Natasha’s eyes pop if she held it up to her face.
You felt entirely exposed knowing that Wanda was witnessing this and seeing your less than sexy underwear, but it wasn’t the first time she’s seen you be bent over a surface in her house. You remembered vividly the last time she had watched Natasha spank you. It had been after a long day in the office, and Wanda had come home to find you bent over the arm of the couch. She made a joke that Natasha intended to christen every piece of furniture in the house, and while it hadn’t been funny to you, Natasha had laughed loudly and freely in response.
“You will count after each one. If you mess up, we’re starting over. Do you understand?” She asked, pressing down on your back and assuring that you understood where you were meant to remain for the duration of your spanking. You were on your tippy toes, the top of your thighs pressing into the edge of her desk, but you didn’t have the right to complain about the uncomfortable position, so you merely nodded your head and braced for the first hit.
It came seconds later, powerful and unforgiving on your left asscheek. You felt the flesh bounce in response, and the string that was left behind was so sinfully pleasant that you ground your teeth together and choked out a harsh, “One, Daddy.”
The second hit was delivered all the same, left in the same exact spot with a practiced precision. Leave it to Natasha to have good enough hand-eye contact to be able to leave a handprint on your ass so vividly you’d see it leftover for days. The third hit came to your right asscheek, and a gush of arousal further dampened your already saturated panties. The flowers beneath your sopping entrance were undoubtedly a dark shade of pink by now, and you could only imagine what the sight looked like to her.
The fourth and fifth spank came directly after one another, and you counted them off rather breathlessly as her hand gently massaged your stinging flesh until it was nothing more than a pleasant ache. Your eyes were pinched shut, your breathing was shallow, but you craved the next hit, and when it didn’t come, you whined in protest and pushed your ass out toward her hips.
“Begging for me to spank you. How pathetic.” Natasha taunted, though she didn’t disappoint, and the next spank came quickly after, directed toward the center of your ass.
By sixteen, there were tears in your eyes and a desperate pulse in your clit, but you hadn’t miscounted nor forgotten about numbers entirely, and Natasha was beaming with pride. “Good girl.” She cooed, her fingers trailing over your panties until she came upon the wet patch between the apex of your thighs. “So fucking wet. Does it turn you on when Daddy spanks your ass?”
Natasha knows that it does. You’ve asked for enough spankings in the last seven months to prove that fact to her, but she still finds a way to humiliate you every time you find yourself bent over as punishment. There is a very thin line between a maintenance spanking and a punishment, but you know that by time you reach the thirtieth spank you’ll have crossed the threshold of pleasurable pain. “Y-Yes. Daddy please. Please.”
“What do you want, detka? Use your words. You had no problem using them earlier when you wanted to mouth off with my wife.” All the while her hand was still buried between your thighs, avoided your clit with skilled ease, and it was slowly driving you insane. Her index finger pushed against your entrance overtop of your panties, not enough to provide any semblance of pleasure, but still enough to make your knees tremble beneath your awkwardly supported weight.
“Spank me. Please, Daddy, spank me!” You sobbed, attempting to reach for the edge of the desk in a weak attempt to ground yourself in the moment, but with your half-floating position, you found that it was just out of reach and you cried out in frustration as you settled for digging your blunt fingernails into her desk instead.
You hadn’t noticed Wanda approaching you, too lost in the pleasure of Natasha’s fingers on your cunt and the delicious sting in your ass, but you felt her nonetheless. Her hands, so soft and warm compared to the freezing temperature of the office, found a place on your lower back that was still covered by the thick material of her sweatshirt.
“Shh, dorogoy.” She soothed you gently, a stark contrast to her typical cold and sharp tone. You didn’t have any fight left in you to care about her close proximity to you, and desperately you scrounged about until your hand found hers and squeezed tightly. It was at that moment that Natasha resumed her prior actions, and a harsh and sharp spank landed on your left asscheck.
“Seventeen, Daddy!” You cried out, squeezing Wanda’s hand tightly. You were beginning to regret breaking so many rules. You were still thirteen spanks away from being forgiven, and that pleasurable pain that you found comfort in was turning bitter the harsher she was with you. You needed this, both of you knew that, but that never made it any easier to swallow in the moment. Tomorrow, you’d think twice before sitting down for meals or tasks, you’d fondly poke at your sore ass and giggle at the dull ache that brought a sense of comfort and security over you, but for right now, it was torture, especially when you were so desperate for release.
Her hits only seemed to get harsher and stronger as you got closer to thirty, but Wanda didn’t pull away even for a second and every so often Natasha would whisper praises in your ear that made your insides turn to mush. You were lost in your head, mindlessly counting out numbers with no real acknowledgement for what they meant, just desperate to please her. It was only when you reached number twenty five that Natasha switched up her tactics and paused for a moment, taking the time to undress you fully and surrender your body to the harsh cold of her office.
You whined when your pebbled nipples met the cold surface of her desk, already sensitive without the stimulating chilled surface. You squirmed for only a second before Natasha reprimanded you for trying to find a comfortable position, stilling immediately in fear of her adding more spanks or taking away your right to feel her cock in your pussy as a reward. This was a punishment, you would take it how she gave it unless you absolutely couldn’t.
“Five more.” She promised, leaving a soft kiss in the middle of your back. “I want you to tell me you’re not bad after each one, is that understood?”
When you didn’t answer, entirely lost in the blissful beginning of subspace, Wanda gently captured your attention, showing you a glimpse of her softer side. A side you would see more of if you didn’t try to get under her skin each and every time she was around. “Daddy asked you a question, milyy. She expects an answer.”
Breathing out shakily, you nodded your head. “Understood, Daddy.”
“Good girl.” Natasha hummed, but that was the last offer of praise you were given before her hand clapped against the skin of your thigh and you whined and keened in response, trying to wiggle away from her harsh hits.
“No, Daddy!” You sobbed, your hand desperately fighting against Wanda’s hold. She let you go instantly, and you didn’t hesitate to reach down and rub at the sore spot she left with a deep pout on your lips. “Ow!” You whined, tears slipping past your eyes and dampening your cheeks as your shoulders trembled.
“Shh.” Natasha and Wanda cooed in sync, and if you weren’t so spaced out you would’ve rolled your eyes at their alikeness. “I know it hurts, milyy. I know you don’t like it, but this is important to Daddy. It’s important to me that you know you’re not bad. Only four more. You’re being such a good girl. My best girl. Making Daddy so proud, taking your punishment so good. Let Wanda hold your hand, and it’ll be over soon. Then you’ll get me cock. Okay?” Natasha gently fussed over your state of upset, the pads of her thumbs wiping the tears off of your face. You leaned into her gentle touch, savoring it before you nodded weakly.
The next hit came just as harsh as the first, but you’d been expecting it at the very least, and hadn’t had such a violent reaction. Wanda praised you through the entire ordeal, not even considering reprimanding you when your voice grew hoarse and you barely remembered to echo the words Natasha had asked you to repeat. She got the hint that this was one of your softer limits, so she settled for talking you through it rather than demanding you show her partner some respect. She felt so full of warmth as she watched you take the last three spanks with minimal complaints, knowing the level of trust it took to allow a dominant to use a weakness against you, even if it wasn’t in any way ill intended.
“No more, Daddy! No more. Please.” You sobbed when the last hit came, your thighs a gentle shade of pink that Natasha would have fussed over had she not been entirely too committed to making sure you were okay. Your thighs were slick with arousal, your clit pulsed with need, and she had every intention of making it better once she got you to calm down.
“No more. You did so good for me, detka. My good girl. Daddy’s so proud of you.” She cooed gently, pulling you up off the desk and into her waiting arms. You melted against her chest, pliant and putty in her hands as she gently massaged your stinging ass, careful to leave your thighs alone for the time being.
“I’m sorry.” You sobbed, fisting her shirt in your trembling fists, suddenly very aware of how clothed she and Wanda were in comparison to you. Even your pink and green panties had been discarded on the floor in a pile, the scent of your arousal heavy and thick in the air.
“All’s forgiven, milyy. You’re okay.” She reassured, peppering tiny kisses into the crown of your head before she pulled away completely and eased you back onto her desk, this time allowing you to rest on your back in a comfortable position. Her skilled fingers dipped between your dripping folds, collecting your wetness that awaited and begged for her touch. “You’re so wet. Is this all for me?” She teased gently, bringing her fingers up toward her mouth. Her tongue darted out to sweep against the digits, and she moaned in delight at the taste of you. It had been entirely too long since she’d gotten to properly devour you, but that would have to wait until a later date. She didn’t have the heart to leave you hanging any longer then she already had, especially not when you’d been such a good girl for her.
“Please.” You begged, your hooded eyes tracing her movements as she sucked her fingers clean and let them leave her mouth with an audible pop as she abruptly broke the suction. “Please, I want your cock. I’ve been good! Please Daddy, I want you inside of me!”
“You’ve been so good, little one. The best girl.” Natasha affirmed, already working on the button of her business pants. You watched her intently, not paying Wanda the slightest bit of attention though you should’ve known better than that. When you were distracted with the sight of Wanda, the Sokovian woman to your right had taken it upon yourself to work you up even further, clearly not yet satisfied with the length of time you’d had to wait to get to this very moment.
Her fingers found your nipple in only a matter of seconds, and you gasped out in a mixture of shock and pain when she pinched and pulled at your sensitive buds cynically. You arched up into her touch, not sure if you wanted more of it or none of it, and your eyes fluttered closed. Wanda didn’t like that your attention was no longer on Natasha, and she made that clear when she twisted your left nipple harshly. “Eyes open. Your Daddy may have forgiven you, but I’ve yet to get an apology.”
Your eyes snapped open at her words, frantically searching for Natasha as you refocused on her half undressed body. Her black pants were on in a heap on the floor residing beside your own pile of clothes, but her shit was still buttoned over her chest, wrinkled from your tight grip and somewhat disheveled from how aggressively she’d pulled you flush against her at the beginning of your punishment.
Your lips parted in lust when you caught sight of the red strap-on between her thighs. She hadn’t confirmed your suspicions before, but now it was undeniable that throughout this entire ordeal, she’d been packing your favorite toy between her thick and strong thighs. A needy whine left your lips when Wanda harshly slapped at your tits, the soft mounds of flesh bouncing as a result of her hits.
“I don’t think you deserve to be fucked by your favorite toy after mouthing off to me, but you’re Daddy’s too kind to go get a different one. You should thank her.” She hadn’t said you didn’t deserve to be fucked at all, but something about the idea of Natasha switching to a smaller strap seemed like a worse punishment then being left high and dry all together, and feverishly you thanked her for her generosity, not wanting to risk the chance of Wanda’s words actually packing a punch.
Gently, Natasha guided the tip of the strap into your entrance, letting you get accustomed to the stretch before she completely bottomed out inside of you. She’d only gotten the red strap recently, three weeks ago after a business trip to LA, and while you adored it and took it like a champ every time she pulled it out, it was significantly girthier than any of the other ones that resided in her and Wanda’s collection. She didn’t want to hurt you, no matter how many times you told her to be rough.
“Move. Daddy, move please! Fuck me!” You begged, writhing beneath Wanda’s hot hands as she kept up with her ministations on your sensitive and aching nipples.
“You want me to move, pretty girl? You want me to fuck this needy cunt?” Natasha’s thumb found your clit easily, and she rubbed harsh circles along your sensitive bundle of nerves the way she knew you liked it, perfectly content with the knowledge that you wouldn’t last a full five minutes if she kept up the way she was. She was close herself. The strap had been rubbing against her clit since she’d put it on that morning, not knowing you’d show up, but anticipating it anyways. She really did know you like the back of her hand.
“Please! Please! Please Daddy, I want it! I need it!” You babbled needily, uncaring for how you came across to Wanda. You arched into the touch of the Sokovian, you desperately leaned into the strap, your body attempting to stretch in multiple directions as you chased after all of the sensations the two married women were providing your already overstimulated body.
Natasha didn’t need to hear you beg anymore. She set a brutal pace as she snapped her hips, rocking the dildo into your pussy and simultaneously chasing the pressure it put on her clit. She toyed with your clit in unwavering determination to see you fall apart, her eyes pinched shut as she chased after her own pleasure and provided you with yours. Your incoherent babbling was like music to her ears as she pulled your thighs further apart and thrust deeper into your pussy, hammering your sensitive and tight walls with a punishing pace.
“G-Gonna cum! Daddy! Please! Please! I want to c-cum! Please!” You pleaded and writhed, thankful that Wanda had eased off your nipples and you could now focus fully on the sensations that spread through your body from the way Natasha worked your cunt.
“Is that how you ask?” Wanda teased, her hot hand laying softly on your neck. She didn’t squeeze, she wouldn’t without your explicit permission, which she didn’t have, but just the thought of her choking you like Natasha did had your mind reeling and the desperation growing. “Ask nicely.”
“Please can I cum Daddy? Please!” You sobbed, feeling the coil ready to snap with or without Natasha’s explicit permission. You so desperately wanted to be good, wanted to prove yourself not only to her but to Wanda, who seemed to question if you even knew the definition of obedience, but you couldn’t stave off your orgasm for much longer. You’d been desperate for her touch all day, and now that you finally had it the way that you wanted it, it was almost impossible to deny yourself that release.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my cock. Daddy’s gonna cum with you.” Natasha grunted in a manner that was so hot you nearly lost your mind. With Wanda’s hand still loosely around your neck and Natasha’s quick thrust and skilled fingers working you over, you fell over the edge and into a blinding orgasm that had tears falling from your eyes. That blissful taste of subspace that you’d been experiencing since spank seventeen took over in full force, and with the resolution of your climax, you surrendered to the fuzzy feeling in your mind.
Natasha kissed you gently, her tongue still tasting like your arousal from when she’d licked her fingers clean, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the taste of you on her lips. Your eyes fluttered closed when she stilled her hips and subsequently the dildo, drinking in every physical reminder of her touch like you were scared she’d vanish completely if you didn’t appreciate it.
When she started to pull out, wanting to rid herself of the harness after wearing it for so many hours, you whined in response, desperately pulling her closer to you. The strap-on rubbed against your sensitive walls in a way that was unpleasant at best, and you mourned the loss of the full feeling inside of you before it was even really gone.
“Not today, detka.” Natasha knew what you wanted. She knew how you liked to keep her strap buried inside of you for as long as she allowed after a session like this, but she couldn’t ignore her own discomfort for any longer, even if it meant bringing tears to your eyes. “Shh, it’s okay. Daddy’s still here.” She reassured softly, peppering kisses all over your face as she softly pulled the dildo out of you. You winced when your pussy squelched, a reminder of the wetness that still clung to your lower lips and thighs, but both women soothed your embarrassment with praises and reassurance.
“Clean yourself up.” Wanda nodded toward her wife, already managing to detangle your limbs from Natasha’s and exchange them for her own. It wasn’t the first time she’d assisted during aftercare, but it was the first time you’d been so far gone during it. She knew Natasha though, and the weight of the scene would surely dawn on her in only a handful of minutes now that she wasn’t being fuelled by adrenaline, and when that happened, when the crash came, Wanda knew that the Russian would want to be cleaned up and warm. “I’ll bring her to our bed. You need to focus on you for a couple of minutes.”
“Go with Wanda, baby.” Natasha didn’t argue with her wife, pressing a short kiss to both of your heads before she helped Wanda get a hold of you and cradle you to her chest. You had barely even recognized the shift, too sleepy and blissed out to realize that you were being carried away from Natasha and toward the warm master bedroom down the hall.
Wanda was gentle with you, and despite your hesitance to accept her help when you were in a fully sound headspace, you leaned into her now, craving more of her touch. Your glassy eyes searched for hers as she laid you gently in the center of the bed, already missing the warmth that she provided. You whined in protest, but Wanda only shushed you gently and stalked off toward the en-suite bathroom. You knew this routine well, but you were not at all fond of it.
A soft cry left your lips when you realized that you were all alone in their bed, and while their perfume lingered on the pillows and blankets, mixing together to create the most perfect and calming scent, it wasn’t as fulfilling as actually having them with you. The faucet running in the bathroom caught your attention, and just as you attempted to scramble off of the bed and follow the sound, Wanda’s voice had you stopping in your tracks and sinking into the plethora of pillows that surrounded you.
“Stay there, little one. I’ll be there in just a second.” She called out quietly, though her voice was laced with dominance that you couldn’t ignore. You whined pleadingly, looking between the open en-suite door and the hallway, desperate for either her or Natasha to come back and hold you. “Natty will be back soon. She’s probably getting you some water and a snack. You were such a good girl for her, malysh.”
“Good.” The word felt heavy on your tongue, but by some miracle you had managed to get it passed your lips. Your head was so fuzzy and void of any thoughts, but Wanda still praised your efforts.
When she came back into very, her hair was pinned up by a claw clip that you had seen Natasha wear a handful of times. You never really knew whose things were whose because the women shared everything so interchangeably, but despite your iffy relationship with Wanda, you thought it suited her well.
You were entirely too desperate for physical touch to care about who you sought it from (although secretly you were more than okay with it being Wanda who held you), and when her weight caused the mattress to dip as she joined you on the bed, you practically attacked her with your naked body. Her laughter was like music to your ears as she gently guided you into a lying position, shushing your complaints with a sweet and soft look in her green eyes.
“Such a good girl.” She cooed, dragging the damp washcloth up your inner thighs and over your sticky folds. You whined at the coldness of the rag and the rough material on your sensitive skin, but you made no attempt to wiggle away from it. “I know it’s cold, you’re being so good letting me clean you up. Do you hear that? That’s Natty.” Wanda smiled, effectively distracting you with the sounds of footsteps coming back up the stairs and toward the very room that you occupied.
“Daddy!” You whined, reaching for her the second you saw her in the doorway. As Wanda had promised, she had two bottles of water tucked beneath her arm and a sliced apple on a plate in her hands. She wore a gentle smile, her features no longer saturated in commanding dominance, much like Wanda’s weren’t either, though both women were highly aware of how you’d listen to their every command even without the practiced smolders they gave you.
“Just Natty, baby girl. It’s just Natty. We’re not playing right now, we’re all done.” She cooed gently, setting the plate of apples on the nightstand closest to the door before she reached out to take you into her arms. One bottle of water was passed to Wanda, who opened it thankfully and took a small sip, melting into the pillows against the headboard as she watched her wife fawn over you the way you deserve.
“Natty.” You whispered, preening as her hand found your hair and gently worked out any knots that had formed from when she grabbed you harshly. You melted into her touch, your forehead resting against her clothed stomach, though you took note of the fact that she was no longer wearing her business professional blouse, but rather an old t-shirt from her college years.
“Take a sip for me, baby love.” Natasha coaxed gently, unscrewing the lid on your own bottle of water and holding it up to your lips expectantly. You drank it up greedily, finishing half the bottle before she pulled it away and set it down on the nightstand. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl. Are you going to safeword when you need to next time?” She asked softly, needing to hear your answer for her own peace of mind. The fog in your head had cleared up slightly, and you nodded apologetically.
“It was a bad day.” You whispered softly, knowing that it was no excuse but wanting to give her some context. “I forgot I had an exam in logistics, so when I showed up to class I was completely blindsided. Came here straight after ‘cause I just wanted you and I thought I was okay, then when I thought that I had interrupted something important I just got overwhelmed and didn’t wanna… I don’t even know. Didn’t know how to ask for what I needed. M’sorry. Won't happen again.” You rambled out your apology, pleading with her to understand and forgive you, even though you knew that she already had.
“It makes me feel bad when you don’t safeword, but it’s forgiven. All is forgiven, malen’kiy.” Natasha promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose that was still pink from the flush of your orgasm. Unlike the last time she’d rewarded you with the action, you giggled in response and leaned in closer silently begging her to do it again.
“Are you gonna mouth off to Wanda again?” Natasha teased, her fingers digging into your ribcage as you sat perched on the edge of the bed and looked up at her with wide innocent eyes.
Despite your sore ass and thighs, you shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eyes that no amount of punishment could completely get rid of. “Probably.” You giggled, though there was something undeniably different about your feelings toward the lawyer now. You were too exhausted to figure out what had changed though, and so you left it to be a problem for another day.
Wanda, thoroughly amused with your shameless answer, gently chuckled a pillow in your direction and narrowed her eyes when you turned around to look at her. “Oi, little one. This is still my bed you’re getting all cozy in.”
You merely laughed, falling forward into Natasha’s arms, entirely content with spending the rest of your day wrapped up in her.
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wandasaura · 1 month
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SONG IN THE CAR
summary — wanda just wants to check that you’re not lying, but you can only keep yourself together for so long before you beg natasha to fuck you in the car
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink, daddy kink, subspace, public play, inspection kink, butt plugs, packing, strap-on usage, mentions of edging, mentions of spanking, doggy style, car sex, semi-public sex, degradation, praise, dumbification, mentions of free use, finger sucking, oral fixation, men/minors dni
authors note — i’m not even going to apologize for what this turned into because once i started i just kept adding the most unhinged things. as always, this doesn’t need to be read with the yail series but it might make more sense if it is. the ending is a wee bit rushed but i wanted to get this out for you, so i hope you enjoy!
you are in love
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
A strangled whine falls off the tip of your tongue when Wanda trails her fingers across the small of your back. The interior of the store is cold, the electric hum of an air conditioning unit almost as loud as the music that plays through speakers hidden within different vents around the clothing store. You can’t even fathom what business Wanda and Natasha have being in a shop that’s blasting brain melting pop tracks, but they dragged you inside at the first sight of the large LED letters out front. 
You’ve lost sight of Natasha, the Russian made a dramatic show of escaping toward the back wall merely seconds after Wanda dragged you over to look at a rack of denim shorts. The store was geared more toward a generation around your age, the elements of both boho aesthetic and minimalism felt almost too trendy to be authentic, but if you weren’t so… overwhelmed, to put it sweetly, you would’ve vocalized just how much you liked the style of clothes that sat folded precisely on the shelves surrounding you. 
Wanda’s hand lingered on the small of your back for longer than an appropriate second. Despite the cold store that threatened to erase all memories of the sweltering heat outside, the Sokovian’s hands were the perfect cross between just barely warm and unacceptably frigid. The longer they sat on the exposed skin of your back – the baby tee Natasha had picked out for you to wear hugging your ribs tightly and subsequently allowing both her and Wanda access to your sensitive spine – the harder it became to not envision them falling lower and lower until they found a place between your thighs for the second time that day. 
You weren’t looking at Wanda, intentionally avoiding her strong stare and focusing intensely on the white shelves that adorned the walls. You didn’t need to glance at her to feel the devilish smirk that rested across the very lips that had wrapped around your clit and left you needy only a handful of hours earlier to know that it was there and obnoxious. Natasha had kissed her in the car and claimed smugly that Wanda’s tongue still tasted of you, but neither had offered any assistance in relieving the sticky situation between your thighs. 
 When Wanda’s question went unanswered a second time, the question being if you liked anything in particular around the store, a perfectly sculpted brow rose in your direction and the attention you’d been putting on the racks of clothing became a fascination of the past. A slender finger cradled your jaw, cold against your flushed skin but not icy enough to flinch away from instinctively. The subtle gesture had forced your eyes away from the t-shirts and baby-tees you’d been meticulously staring at, and rather onto a set of twinkling green eyes. Wanda’s lips were still curved upward into a smirk, but they twinged with something dangerous as she set her gaze on your dilated pupils and permanently pink cheeks. 
“Mommy asked you a question, milaya. What’s got you so distracted?” Wanda pouts, her lips teasing and thin as they purse in an attempt to ward off a sickening grin of mischief that she wore mere seconds beforehand. She knows exactly what’s distracting you, she’d been the one to suggest this little game when Natasha decided she wanted to go shopping, but still she feigns innocence as you come undone in a disgusting public mall. 
Despite having an answer on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find the courage to share it with Wanda. There shouldn’t be any reason for you to vocalize your feelings when she’s already aware, despite her trying to break you down time and time again. Instead, you settle for something simple, and certain enough to wind her up a good deal. “Nothing.” The word doesn’t roll off your tongue as easily as you would’ve liked. It’s choppy and cuts like a dagger, but it sits lightly in the air between both of your warm bodies as Wanda takes the time to process what you’ve just said. Or rather, how you’ve just blatantly lied to her. 
“Oh, nothing’s distracting you, baby?” Wanda coos, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side as her eyes threaten to unravel the web of lies you're spinning. You don’t even have a chance to answer before she’s gripping your jaw, the pad of her thumb pressing into the hollow of your cheek while her pointer fingers sentence the other side of your face to the same fate. Her grip is tight, controlling, but not harsh enough to actually hurt. She’s mastered the art of grabbing you in a way that stuns you into submissive silence, and though you’re in public where anyone can see, she doesn’t seem to mind holding all the cards in her one-handed grip.  “So if Mommy put her hand in those pretty panties you’ve got on, she wouldn’t find a sticky mess?” 
There are two choices here, you can either deny the accusation and save a sliver of your dignity that’s waning fast as the day progresses, or you can agree with her accusation and hope that your honesty satisfies her need to be right in this moment; either choice will lead to her hand in your panties, you’re not dumb enough to believe that she’ll drop the act when you’re already this far in, but there’s still defiance burning in your belly that deceives you enough to believe you’ll walk away with the upperhand. Hastily, not thinking much of the consequences, your head shakes from side to side in the negative. You’ve decided to save yourself the embarrassment of admitting that your panties are absolutely drenched by no fault of your own, it’s entirely her fault and she knows that. The movement is little, restrained to small jerks due to the hand on your jaw, but Wanda feels it, and she quirks an eyebrow. “I need words.” She tightens her grip, forces your lips to pucker and your cheeks to ache from how her fingers sit flush against your teeth. 
“N-No.” It takes all of your strength to answer her, and even still all of your mustered up courage leaves a fierce blush sinking into the apples of your cheeks and across the tips of your ears, but a fire lights in Wanda’s eyes at your prolonged battle to remain coherent. You’ve been fighting her on decisions all day, trying to keep your head above the surface and your thoughts clear, but there’s only so much clarity in a moment like this. Nobody can blame you for falling beneath the thumb of the hottest lawyer in the world when you’re quite literally putty in her hands. 
“Oh, well then I guess you won’t mind if I check for myself, will you, detka?” You’d discussed this new kink a week ago. You’d agreed to what she called inspections with no hesitancy, though a healthy bit of embarrassment at the prospect of her being able to feel your sopping cunt whenever she pleased, but you’d agreed and even anticipated the moment she decided to put your agreement to good use. You hadn’t expected her to be so bold as to cash in on your agreement in one of the most densely populated shopping malls in the state of New Jersey, but there was no getting around it now. Still, your eyes fluttered away from hers, anxiously scrounging the small boutique style store for other customers or cameras.
Your eyes only found two figures, and one was distinctly Natasha who had styled her red hair in dutch braids before you left the house. For a second, you wondered if this had been the plan all along; to get you into a store where nobody else dared to shop because of the steep prices and violate you into submission, though you wouldn’t technically call Wanda’s premistion a violation, but… still. The only employee that stood on the floor was a smaller woman with silky chestnut hair, and she occupied a space next to Natasha against the far back wall as the two engaged in a conversation that looked to be revolving around a red bikini top your girlfriend held up to her chest. It complemented her hair nicely, would do absolute wonders for her boobs, but she had no real interest in the article if the pinch between her brows was evidence enough. 
Despite the reassurances you found, you met Wanda’s gaze again and choked out a strangled whisper, “Somebody’s going to see.” The blush on your cheeks was sheerly a factor of your mortification, but Wanda seemed to crave to deepen the sharp color on your face as the hand not gripping your face began its ascent toward your core. The flowy white skirt Natasha had picked out for you allowed her access without a fuss, and when her fingers tickled the sensitive interior of your thighs, you couldn’t help but instinctively part your legs for Wanda’s quest. 
“Shh,” The Sokovian shushed you sweetly, her hand loosening its grip on your jaw but never falling away fully. Her eyes searched yours, practically looking through you as she assured that you were okay to continue, anticipating the moment the safeword fell off your lips and all of her movements stopped. You’d never stop adoring her caution in moments like these. “Let Mommy do the thinking, sweetheart. Little girls don’t need to be worrying about anything other than their Mommy.” Her words fell onto you thickly, and a pout pulled at your lips as they sunk in. That submissive headspace all three of you adored was creeping up on you slowly, and her infantilizing words merely accelerated the process as you blinked at her slowly. 
The hand on your thigh brushed across your mound tauntingly slow, and for a second, you’d forgotten that you weren’t going to receive anything from her touch when it finally came. There would be no pleasure to spiral through your core when her fingers found a home beneath the drenched material of your panties. All that would come from her touch was embarrassment and more frustration. You gasped when Wanda’s ring trailed down the warm skin of your cunt, tracing a path downward until it fell onto your clit almost perfectly. Your hips startled at the cold sensation, but Wanda merely shushed you as the tips of her fingers sought out the source of your arousal. She hummed inquisitively, the pad of her finger pressing against your sopping entrance for merely a moment before it was gone and she was trailing strings of your wetness back up to your clit. 
“You’re so wet, utenok. No wonder you’re having such a hard time listening to Mommy. I bet it’s so hard to think when your pretty little pussy is just crying for attention.” Wanda mused mockingly, the pads of her fingers circling your clit that throbbed and ached for actual relief, but the pleasure never came. As quickly as her hand had dipped into your underwear and sought out your intimacy, they’d fallen away and resettled on your hips. The sticky thinness of your arousal smeared against your exposed skin kissed beautifully from the summer sun, and you knew she had every intention of making you walk through the mall with a patch of glimmering dampness adorning your body that you’d never have the courage to explain if someone questioned it. A deep blush settled across your cheeks, but Wanda wasn’t finished yet. Before you could reach out to her and tangle your fingers into the softness of her t-shirt, she was spinning you around and forcing your back against her chest. “Mommy’s not finished yet. Be a good girl and stay quiet while she checks something.” 
You’d almost had the chance to question her intentions before the words were stolen from between your bitten lips and the softest gasp of pleasure fell from you instead. Wanda’s fingers, still glistening with your arousal, had found a home beneath your skirt and against the base of the plug nestled deep within your ass. You’d only started trying the plugs out a couple weeks ago, but in that span of less than fourteen days they’d become something you adored and hated equally. The deep pleasure that came from constantly feeling full was insatiable and you craved it whenever Natasha pulled it out too soon, but you’ve grown to hate how every soft step shifted it against you perfectly, and especially how no matter which position you attempted to sit in it presses deeper and deeper into you without remorse. Wanda’s fingers circle the crimson red jewel framed between the globes of your ass, cheeks still pink from a spanking you’d received yesterday. The touch is soft, gentle, caring even, but when you think she’s about to pull away and end her little experiment, she taps harshly on the center plug twice, sending sparks of pleasure through your body and into your already fuzzy head. 
“So full for Mommy. Those panties are absolutely ruied, moya lyubov’.” Wanda pulls her hand out of your panties, spinning you back around in her arms and cradling you close to her chest as you shake and try to comprehend the fact that for right now, that simple touch was all you’d be getting. You’d think she almost felt an ounce of sympathy for your desperate form if she wasn’t wearing such a cocky smirk. “You’re being such a good girl, detka. Maybe we should keep you like this, huh? All full and eager to be fucked. Daddy could just bend you over anywhere and you’d take it, wouldn’t you?” Wanda preened into your ear, her words thick with lust and traces of an accent you’ve begun to memorize. You’re not sure whether to nod your head and agree, because it’s true, you’d let Natasha fuck you anywhere she wanted to right now, you’re not oblivious to the fact that she’s packing your favorite strap beneath those denim shorts adorning her toned legs, or to shake your head and beg for her to not let that happen. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive in this state for another couple hours, let alone for however long they deem acceptable. “Huh, answer Mommy, baby. Do you want Mommy to keep you like this forever? Want to be ready to use whenever Mommy and Daddy feel the need to take you?” 
“I-I want you, Mommy.” You pleaded, shaking your head frantically at the suggestion that rolls off of Wanda’s lips like its been imprinted onto the tip of her tongue for decades. The Sokovian smirks, drawing you in closer to her chest and letting her forehead rest against yours, her deep sage eyes peering into your soul with how intensely she stares down at you. 
“You have me, baby.” She soothed your downturned lips with a gentle kiss, her touch soft and smooth yet harboring a lingerance of artificial strawberry chapstick if you thought about her taste long enough. The embrace was fleeting, entirely too short, but it had your head spinning when she pulled away and greeted Natasha who you hadn’t even noticed had come up beside you. “Come on,” Wanda patted your ass deliberately, jostling the plug just softly enough to have you hyper aware of its presence but not earning pleasure. “we still have a couple of stores to hit.” 
“I was thinking we stop by that store you like, ducky. We can see if they have any of those little pins you were talking about?” Natasha places a firm hand on your back, her eyes kind but tinted with lust that has settled deep within her stare permanently since Wanda wiggled the plug between your cheeks. There’s a hint of knowingness in her smile, an indication that she knows perfectly well what had just happened between you and her wife. 
The proposition of spending another handful of hours surrounded by incompetent strangers with no regard for others and continuous sounds that blended into static chatter didn’t sound appealing, but unless you called red, they weren’t taking you home. Reluctantly, you took Natasha’s hand, allowing the lawyer to lead you out of the boutique and toward a store much more your style. Wanda’s hand stayed firm on the small of your back as Natasha took the lead, but your focus had fallen beneath the waves as you surrendered to them entirely. 
-
A desperate whine slipped past your lips as Wanda pulled you into her chest, toned arms still warm from the sun wrapping tightly around your torso and keeping you still. The dressing room was saturated in gold plated decor and embellishments, illuminated by a chandelier framed with dazzling crystals worth more than your entire college education. Natasha had dragged the both of you into the high-end designer store with the hopes of them having their new summer collection, and much to your annoyance, they did. The bold colored suits were a powerful statement, she’d look absolutely delectable in them, but that was exactly what you were worried about. The thought of her in a suit so expensive and sleek sent tingles through your belly that couldn’t just be ignored, especially not with your already existing desperation. Wanda wasn’t blind to your frustration, and she smirked wickedly down at you the second Natasha had slipped behind the heavy fitting room door. 
“Shh, Mommy just wants to check.” She whispered against the shell of your ear, a cold hand trailing up the inside of your thigh that is absolutely drenched with arousal. Your eyes burn into hers as you both become controlled by lust, already blown pupils somehow finding additional blackness to manipulate until the color in Wanda’s eyes is entirely vacant. Your bottom lip is bitten and quivering as you feel her fingers start to massage your slick coated folds, a shaky breath at the back of your throat desperate to be unleashed. “Oh, you’re so wet sweetheart. Did Mommy do this to you?” 
You nod shortly at her question, aware of how close the tips of her cold fingers are coming to your clit every time she strokes the length of your folds, but each time they never brush against your stiff and throbbing nerve, merely coming close enough to tease before they’re gone. She circles your entrance repetitively, pressing against it only to pull away seconds later and trail her fingers back down toward the plug, but she never fully grazes that either. She’s content to keep playing with your body like a toy in the middle of the fitting room, her lewd actions have entirely drowned out the sounds of Natasha throwing different articles of clothes around in the dressing room just a few feet behind you, your focus entirely on her and the sensations she’s provoking cautiously. 
“Oh she did? Mommy did this? What a little slut, getting so worked up and Mommy’s not even touching you fully. You’re so easy, dorogaya” Wanda continues to tease condescendingly, giving you not a single second of relief as she digs her fingers harder into your cunt on the last swipe across your panties before she’s hooking her fingers into the waistband and tugging them down. 
Your eyes go wide as you look up at her fully, your shoulders tensing as she keeps tugging the soiled garment down your thighs. “W-What are you doing?” Your skirt is short, it’s flowy and it’s thin but that was Natasha’s entire goal when she dressed you that morning. You know that despite the length every intimate part of your body is covered, but you weren’t prepared to challenge the wind once you stepped outside again. 
“Color?” Wanda stops her movements, her voice soft and kind as she keeps her eyes on you. Everything before this point had been a discussion that you’d had time to prepare yourself for, but this was unplanned and admittedly terrifying, and yet your belly clenched at the prospect of her undressing you in a public space and forcing you to walk around with no barrier to catch your arousal. 
“G-Green.” You mumbled back at her once you’d taken a second to collect your thoughts and swallow your shock. Wanda nodded curtly before she slipped right back into her role, eyes hard and jaw clenched as she continued pulling your panties down before tapping your thigh in a silent demand for you to step out of them. 
“Then stop talking and let Mommy do what she wants.”  Her voice was hard, leaving no space for you to argue, but you weren’t going to. You stepped out of your panties with a gentle wince, feeling their dampness against your shins before the sensation was gone entirely and Wanda was holding them up to the light to inspect. Your cheeks flushed in humiliation, watching her fingers swipe across the soaked material before she hummed and folded them up, shoving them into her back pocket like they were just a piece of paper she’d found on the ground. “Good girl.” 
You bristled beneath her praise, but your attention drifted away from her when you heard the door unlock and Natasha’s soft footsteps came stepping out slowly. There was no question about whether she had heard the entire exchange, but you had no time to pay attention to her cheeks flush with need as you drank in the sight of her in a hundred thousand dollar suit. If your eyes weren’t already blown wide with lust, they certainly were now as you gawked at her defined biceps and breasts, the suit drowning some of her more prominent features but highly accentuating others. A rippled whine fell off your tongue as your eyes memorized the sight, but so badly you wanted to rip it off her body and drag her home to appreciate her fully. 
“P-Please.” You just barely got the plea off of your lips as Wanda sparked up a conversation with her wife, commenting on the fit of the suit before she began her shower of compliments and praise. You’d gone ignored, or maybe they just hadn’t heard you, whatever the reason for their silence toward you, it only frustrated you further. “Daddy please!” You tried again, eyes wet and pleading as you held onto the little attention Natasha was providing you as her eyes danced away from Wanda’s and found yours beneath the bright LED lights. 
“Shh.” Wanda scolded, a finger coming up to sit on your lips as she turned her head to glare at you. It wasn’t intentional, but your lips had done it anyway. The second her finger, still soft from your arousal, brushed against your lips, you’d let your tongue poke out and lick at her finger, able to identify the traces of you that clung to her skin despite how she’d wiped her fingers clean on your outer thigh. Your lips wrapped around the digit, suckling and biting sweetly as the blanket over your mind became thicker and warmer. Wanda didn’t stop you, merely returned her attention to Natasha before the Russian nodded and disappeared back into the fitting room, hopefully changing back into her own clothes. “Mommy needs that back, little one.” Wanda said softly, gently easing her finger from between your lips when it became apparent that you weren’t going to relinquish it yourself. A pitiful whine came falling off the tip of your tongue when she pulled it away, but she merely smiled sweetly and kissed the top of your head. “Come on, Daddy’s gonna check out and then we’re going to go home.” 
You shook your head, absolutely appalled at the suggestion that you’d have to wait until you arrived home to get what you wanted. The mall wasn’t far, but an hour was a long time for someone who had been teased and dragged along relentlessly since the sun had first kissed the gravel paths that weaved and winded through Westview. 
“No?” Wanda furrowed her brows, looking down at you with nothing but softness in her still black and lust filled stare. She’d dropped the condescending tone, abandoned the fleeting touches and teasing, but the only thing that would fully cure the arousal in her eyes was getting a taste of your sweet pussy. 
The words felt heavy on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t last another hour without release, and so they found their way off of your lips before you could panic about the implications of your request, “Fuck me now.” 
Wanda’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but that look of shock that claimed her strong features had quickly become something sinister as she stepped closer to you, invading your personal space and allowed you the slightest tinge of her perfume as her chest came flush with yours and she let a single finger tilt your head upward to meet her heavy stare. “Yeah? You want your Daddy to put that strap to use and treat you like a filthy little slut where anyone can hear you crying out in pleasure? You want an audience, moya utenok?” 
A whimper filled the dressing room as your thighs pressed together, your lack of panties leaving the rush of arousal to drip nowhere by your thighs as you writhed beneath Wanda. A soft nod came next, and Wanda smirked proudly, mimicking your gesture before she stepped away entirely and turned her attention back to Natasha who had only just left the dressing room with the suit thrown over her forearm. 
“Hurry up, moya lyubov’. The little slut wants her Daddy to fuck her and who am I to say no to that?” Wanda taunted, grabbing your hand and leading you back out into the store, letting Natasha check out in peace as she occupied you with whispered promises of how the Russian was going to absolutely ruin you where anyone was around to watch. 
-
The only saving grace about Natasha’s car were the tinted windows that blocked out the eyes of anyone who dared to even get close to the Stingray. The seat was drenched in your arousal, thighs spread wide as you occupied almost the entire strip of leather. She’d need to clean the seats thoroughly when you got home, but for right now, neither of you cared. Your hands sunk into the cushioned row of seats as you pressed your ass out further, back arched and muscles strained as you dropped your forehead onto the window and watched with slitted eyes as your breath fogged up the glass. Wanda watched from the passenger seat, green eyes trained on your desperate form that reflected off the rearview mirror pointed downward. Natasha was pressed up against the door, shorts unzipped and hanging loosely over her hip bones as the strap stood at full attention, no longer confined beneath the stiff denim. 
Your skirt was bunched up around your hips, ass and thighs already red from various hits and spanks that the Russian had laid upon your ivory skin. She’d yet to touch you, but each hit that rocked the plug in your ass sent you reeling closer and closer to ultimate pleasure. All you could make out was white spots as they danced along your vision and intercepted the view of strangers and cars wrecking havoc in the parking lot around you. Even when a middle aged man and his wife had gotten close to the car, shopping bags in each of their hands that you could only assume was a pending return, you hadn’t focused much on what they could see from the outside. Your focus was entirely on Natasha, and yet the lawyer hadn’t done anything since bending you over. 
“D-Daddy please! I need you so bad! Please!” You cried out in desperation, back arching further as your nipples grazed the seats, your ass grinding against the strap that she refused to shove into you just yet. What she was waiting for, you didn’t know, but every agonizing second that passed was becoming longer and longer as you waited for relief to wash over you fully. Only she could get you to that point, and yet no matter how much you pleaded with her she didn’t cave. “P-Please!” A strangled cry slipped past your lips when her hand found your ass and her thumb pressed firmly on the jeweled plug nestled between your cheeks. 
“Shh.” The Russian coos. It’s the first sound that’s come to fill the car that wasn’t your own since she had aggressively shoved you into the backseat, and you greedily drink in the unspoken promise that what you want is coming soon. You have no time to prepare yourself for the intrusion of her strap as it slips between your folds and finds a home within your cunt in seconds, but you gasp so sweetly that Natasha doesn’t stop to give you a moment to adjust to the wide girth that’s splitting you open. You’ve wanted this for hours, she’s in no mood to drag your pleasure out any further, having already tested her own patience as she waited for Wanda’s silent permission to begin. You’d been oblivious to the curt nod that was given by the Sokovian, but as much as the game was in Natasha’s hands now, Wanda still held all the cards. “Do you feel that, malyshka? Feel Daddy’s cock splitting you open? Filling this slutty little pussy where anyone can see if they come close enough. I bet you’re so full. This pretty little plug has been driving you crazy all day, hasn’t it? Mommy picked out such a pretty color for you.” As the words drive you farther and farther into pleasure and submission, Natasha’s thumb presses against the plug and sends your mind spiraling downward into a sea of static energy. There’s a thick ringing in your ears that forces your mind to go blank, your hips that had been stuttering against her quick thrusts stilling as you surrendered your body to her control, willing to take whatever she gave you in this very moment. 
Natasha’s thrusts only grow faster as your moans and whines become softer and sweeter, desperation not only evident in the way your arousal soaks your thighs and the seats, but in the pitch of your moans as they fill the car and ricochet off the windows. You don’t have it in you to feel embarrassed by how loud you’re being, your only focus is taking the pleasure and not letting it slip away again. A broken cry leaves your lips as Natasha’s hand finds your clit, thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive nub as she winds you tighter and tighter. Her own thrusts are becoming choppy and quick, groans of pleasure harmonizing with yours until the entire car is just an explicit symphony of intimacy. Wanda’s eyes haven’t left you once, but you can’t see her with the way you’re bent and arched over. Natasha can, and she curses beautiful in Russian as she gives you the green light to let go. 
“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me. Cum on Daddy’s strap.” She encourages gently, her thrusts growing harsher as she chases her own pleasure and orgasms with a delicate moan, though it's quickly drowned out by your own sobs and cries of bliss as you writhe beneath her heavy hands and let the coil snap in your belly. Your body shakes in the aftermath, arms giving out on you as you crash against the leather seats and subsequently pull your cunt off of her strap, the glistening material catching rays of sunlight before she quickly tucks it back into her shorts and zips them up. “You did so good for us, malyshka. So so good.” Natasha kisses the bottom of your spine, her fingers working on the plug in your ass simultaneously. Wanda maneuvered herself in the passenger seat, her hand reaching out to just barely brush against your upper back as well. “Relax for me, angel. Let Daddy take this plug out and then we’ll go home.” She talks you through the process, but nothing prepares you for how empty you feel when the metal is no longer flush against your walls keeping you full. A strangled whimper falls off your lips before it’s gently drowned out by shushing and shuffling. Natasha, unwilling to let you go through aftercare in a crowded parking lot all twisted up, opens the door and steps out of the car, nodding for Wanda to occupy a seat in the back beside you. “Mommy’s gonna sit back here with you, and Daddy’s gonna take us home. Just let go, honey. It’s all okay.” 
It doesn’t take longer than five minutes for Wanda to be sat beside you, your body curled up into her chest and void of a seatbelt. Typically she’d scold you for such a behavior, but all she does now is hold you tighter and kiss your head, promising that you’ll be home soon and there will be plenty of cuddles and kisses all wrapped up beneath the heavy blankets on the bed.
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wandasaura · 2 months
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TWO PEOPLE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER
summary — in an attempt to get wanda’s attention, you end up warming the strap you hoped she’d fuck you with.
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, strap-on usage, mommy kink, brief daddy kink, cockwarming, holding/accidental wetting, degradation, praise, aftercare, oral fixation, subspace, humiliation, ¿nursing?, idk you suck on wanda’s tits, domestic fluff, men/minors dni
authors note — if you’re familiar with the song peace, i thought the lyrics from the second verse fit this little moment so perfectly! mommy wanda lovers this one is for you, it was heavily requested so nobody look at me! there’s also some soft daddy nat for those that wanted to see more of her
you are in love universe
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
You should have learned a long time ago that acting out with Wanda never ended the way you wanted it to. Natasha was easy to get what you wanted out of, a few bats of your eyelashes and a whispered cry of Daddy had her backtracking in seconds, but Wanda was unforgiving and found pride in that fact. You’d gained your footing in this new dynamic rather easily, and on some days, the three of you worked so perfectly together that it felt like you’d been a couple for your entire life, not merely a few weeks.  Wanda and Natasha had fallen into a healthy balance of being your girlfriends and being your dominants. There were days that passed without an ounce of tension, but other days feel like a battlefield. You still weren’t sure how to ask for what you needed from them, which is how you found yourself in the position you’re in now. With summer still lingering through the streets of Westview, you slept between warm bodies every night. There was no indication of what mood you woke up in when daylight painted the sky, but Natasha and Wanda had learned to wait for your not-so-subtle tells. When your eyes peeled open, it was easiest to gauge what side of you they were dealing with. When you wanted to spend the day, or at least a couple hours of your morning, as just their girlfriend, they gave you that without hesitance. Wanda giggled with you in the kitchen and Natasha tackled you onto the couch demanding cuddles, and it always felt easy and real. Other days, when you weren’t so willing to harbor full control of your life, you woke up clinging to your Daddy. It was always Natasha you sought out first thing in the morning, but Wanda can’t complain when she’s the one being smothered throughout the night. They were happy to be whoever you wanted them to be, but they’d slowly been working you up to asking for yourself. 
This morning was one of those days where Wanda decided that if you wanted something from her, you needed to ask and not just with your actions, but with your words. Natasha had gone into the office to oversee a development in a new high-profile case, leaving you to follow the Sokovian around the house like a little lost duckling. Where Wanda went you went, simple as that, well, unless of course she managed to close the door before you could get behind it. That had led to a series of whines and angrily stomped feet, but even then she hadn’t budged then. She hadn’t budged until you had wandered into her office with your hands clasped behind your back. She’d gone to ask what you needed, attempted to give you yet another chance to tell her that you needed your Mommy, but you’d dropped an all black strap-on into her lap and pouted at her with needy eyes before she could get the words out. When she’d pulled her linen shorts down her thighs and attached the harness around her hips, you’d thought you had won. When she told you to get into her lap and take the strap down to the hilt, you were sure that you had won. 
In case it wasn’t clear, you hadn’t won. It had been an hour since she’d asked you to come settle onto her lap and take the strap into your dripping pussy. You’d complied easily, sank down on the toy without her help, and had started grinded your hips against hers in a manner that forced the base to rock against her core perfectly. That pleasure hadn’t lasted long, barely three minutes, and just as your hips had found a comfortable pace, Wanda placed a bruising grip on your hips and completely stilled your movements.  Her lips had been wet when they kissed at the side of her neck, and a pleased hum reached your ears as she used a single slender finger to point your chin toward the ceiling. The full expanse of your neck had been both visible and biteable in that moment, and it hadn’t taken any convincing for her teeth to settle firmly into your skin. You found it laughable that at the start of your contract with Natasha, you’d likened her to a vampire, but Wanda was truly the vampire in your relationship. She possessed an incessant need to dig her teeth into any part of you that she could touch, and you allowed her to eagerly. She’d cooed at your whine when it tumbled from your lips, but there hadn’t been an ounce of sympathy in her face when she asked you, “What do you do to get what you want?” 
“Ask.” You had responded with bated breath, your eyes murky with lust that had been ignored for hours. If Natasha were here she’d have already fucked you raw, but Wanda wasn’t afraid of the long game. She’d never been shy about making you work for what you wanted, and even months into your dynamic with her, not as a couple but as a dominant and her submissive, it never failed to fluster you. Wanda was softer when you shared intimate moments outside of your dynamic. She still never let you top, but she was more lenient in giving in. Her being so firm with you had only cemented in your mind that she knew what you wanted, and the entire day leading up to you warming her strap had been merely a game to her. 
“Mmhm.” She had hummed haphazardly in response, and her hands had still been settled roughly on your hips but her eyes had left yours to trail over the documents that splayed across her desk in messy highlighted piles. You hadn’t had the slightest clue as to what she was really doing, but the rare sight of her so disorganized had felt serious. “And since you didn’t use your words, what happens?” 
You had whined and shook your head in a pleading protest, not wanting to lose your voice when you knew exactly what you wanted. Wanda hadn’t folded at your soft whine, she’d done the exact opposite. The tips of her fingers had pulled your hips down harder against the toy buried deep within your weeping walls, and the head of the dildo had nudged against your softest spot and made your torso fall slack against her chest. “Y-You decide what happens.” You’d finally forced the words into the space between your bodies, and it was rewarded with a sharp thrust of her hips that drove the strap-on further into your pussy. 
“That’s right. What should I decide, hm? I think I’d like to have my pretty little girl warm my strap for a while. What do you think about that idea?” She hadn’t really been asking you. You would’ve been condemned to the same fate even if you’d said no, but you found yourself nodding your head at her question despite how horrible it sounded to sit with your aching cunt filled with pleasure it couldn’t fully claim. “Good girl. Now settle down, Mommy has work to do that little girls shouldn't even be in here to see.” She had guided your head down onto her shoulder, forcing you into near complete darkness before her hands left your hips and returned to the stacks of important documents on her desk. 
You’d tried to remain still, knowing it was what she wanted and she’d have to reward your good behavior at some point, but as the minutes ticked by slower and slower not only did your core demand attention, your bladder demanded relief. The wiggling of your hips hadn’t been reprimanded when the movements started. Wanda had only hummed and shifted beneath you, easing the strap-on into a new position that did nothing for your desperate need to pee. She’d been keeping good on her promise of getting you to drink more water, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the exact predicament she had wanted you in when she forced you to finish an entire glass in the kitchen. Surely it wasn’t. Surely she didn’t want you squirming on her lap from sensations that weren’t caused by her, that wouldn’t make any sense. 
When your wiggling became more frantic and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to moan out in ecstasy or sob in frustration, Wanda sighed and dropped her pen onto the stack of papers that she’d very nearly gotten through completely. Your full and sensitive bladder made the strap-on drenched with arousal feel so much better. Every time Wanda inhaled too deeply or exhaled too sharply, you felt every grove of the cock rub against your walls. The sensation was sharp, fleeting, but embarrassingly addicting and you found yourself trying to replicate little actions that provoked it. Wanda wasn’t as unaware of your intentions as you’d hoped, and when you wiggled a bit too harshly in her lap, finally being rewarded with the quick burst of pleasure, her fingers found your hips again and stilled them just as quickly as she did the first time. 
“Keep still.” She sighed her demand, keeping her tone unbothered which only further provoked your desperation. It was always particularly hot when she acted as though your body writhing against hers had no effect on her. Despite leaving her pen to sit abandoned on the desk, you hadn’t felt her eyes burn into your skin throughout the entire exchange. Your face was still pressed into her neck, hiding in the darkness that you hoped would make this situation less humiliating. 
When you finally had the courage to look up at her, unable to keep yourself still any longer, you cupped her cheeks and directed her attention onto you. “I have to go to the bathroom.” You whispered softly, beyond humiliated with the reluctant admission. Your face turned a flush shade of pink that Wanda thought complemented your eyes perfectly, and you knew you had her full attention when her pupils dilated just the farthest bit more. There was hardly any green left in her stare, but you clung to what little color remained. 
“What was that, little one? Mommy couldn’t hear you.” Wanda pouted her lips, her eyes filled with innocent confusion that wasn’t at all authentic. She’d heard you perfectly clear, you were too close to her face for the words to have fallen short before they met her ears, but she wasn’t letting go of your hips without a further explanation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold yourself together for. 
“I have to pee.” You said just the faintest bit louder, hoping your pleading eyes would be enough to convey the desperation you felt within your weeping core and taut bladder. You felt so incredibly full, and every time you took a breath that feeling only intensified. 
“Oh, well you can hold it just a little bit longer I’m sure. Mommy’s almost done.” Wanda smiled a sweet sympathetic smile, the grip on your hips slowly becoming softer as she let the pads of her thumb soothe the aching skin with tight soft circles you wished would land somewhere else. 
“I can’t.” You pleaded with her to understand just how badly you had to go, you’d already been holding it for so long trying to make her proud. Wanda frowned at your plea, her cherry tinted lips the only thing you could focus on. 
“Well that’s too bad, milaya.” She said simply, shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalant manner that made your walls clench and your clit throb. “Try harder for Mommy, I’m sure you can do it.” She conceded when your frown didn’t waver, and ever so softly she pecked your lips before things went back to how they were before you’d interrupted her. Your head was guided back down onto her shoulder, and her hands went back to work shuffling through documents that you could only assume she was annotating. 
Another half hour had passed before you couldn’t hold yourself together anymore. You’d lasted longer than you’d anticipated with her full you felt, but the end was in sight as the muscles in your belly fought vicious wars to keep your dignity. You were so close to the edge that even Wanda’s gentle breathing felt like pin pricks against your spine. As your need to relieve yourself grew more intense, so did the coil in your belly that seemed to find fuel in your desperation. A soft cry tumbled past your lips before the dam broke and the coil snapped. You dampened her lap with more than just arousal, and the wet feeling that spread across hers and your thighs only made you cry harder. Moans tumbled past your lips when your cries fell short, and it became a desperate attempt to both seek harder pressure against your clit and get completely away from the wetness that was quickly becoming cold against yours and her naked skin. 
“Oh baby, did you have an accident?” Wanda cooed sympathetically, not even having to look down at your glazed over eyes to know what headspace you’d tumbled into. Your cries weren’t one of pain, nor were they really ones of frustration either. You weeped with humiliation and the desperate need to finally be spoken to. She’d been merely answering you all day, no ounce of elaboration in the short sentences shared. You needed your Mommy, and Wanda wasn’t going to deny you that any longer when you’d been so good for her. Granted, the accident hadn’t been a part of her plan. She’d only intended to make you hold yourself, but she couldn’t deny that it was hot, though a little uncomfortable to be sitting in a cold and wet chair. Despite wanting to get away from the mess, Wanda remained in her chair and devoted her attention to you. In truth, she’d finished her paperwork twenty minutes ago, she’d just been waiting for you to finally break. “Why didn’t you tell Mommy you needed to go potty, silly girl?” 
The words weren’t fully registering in your head, every noise felt miles away and muffled by thick cotton on your ears. If you’d been in a sounder mind, you would have snapped your gaze up to her so quickly that your neck would’ve broken, but that never came. You’d warned her as well as you could that if she didn’t let you up this would happen, but she had taken her chances and the outcome had been exactly what you’d expected. Wanda hummed soothingly when you burrowed your face into her shoulder and your mouth went to work on the little bits of skin that were available beside the collar of her t-shirt. The cock still in your pussy was the farthest thing from your mind, but when Wanda shifted you into her arms so she could finally stand and move away from your accident, you whined at the sensation of your full cunt being empty for the first time in hours. 
“Shh, it’s okay, malen’kaya. You’re okay.” Even in Natasha’s absence the Sokovian spoke Russian. She had no real connection to her native language that had died when her brother did, and whatever she said to you in this moment would fall upon deaf ears anyway. It didn’t matter what language she let fall past her lips, all that you could comprehend in this state was that your Mommy’s arms were wrapped tightly around you and she was so cruelly pulling something away the only thing that had been with you for hours. “We’re gonna get you all cleaned up. Just be patient with Mommy.” Leaving her office chair to be handled at a different time, she honestly might just order a new one, having no intense attachment to the black swivel chair that’s only purpose was to sit on, Wanda carried you back into the master bedroom.
She made quick work of undressing you, soothing your whines of protest when the cold air ambushed your flush and warm skin. Your shorts and panties had been discarded on the floor of her office, so all she had to strip you out of was one of Natasha’s old t-shirts that you had found in the back of the closet and adamantly adored. You reached for her throughout the entire process, a far away look in your eyes as you barely even registered her face coming so close to yours that her breath splayed across your lips. She kissed you softly, capturing your full attention as you returned the embrace, all the while her hands were pulling the piss soaked strap-on off of her hips and away from her core that throbbed to be dealt with, but she could handle the unsatisfied ache. Unlike you, Wanda was particularly fond of edging, the only problem that came with her interest was she never relinquished control for long enough to ever have it be done to her. 
You huffed when she pulled away from your lips in favor of throwing her t-shirt onto the floor with the already existing pile of your own clothes. She left you laying alone in the center of the bed, making a mental note to throw the comforter in the washer before any of you tried to sleep beneath them later on, and walked into the en-suite bathroom. She drew a nice bath, taking the extra minutes to add your favorite bath bomb into the warm water and light the few candles that remained around the edge of the tub. Bubbles were a must, you demanded them every time either of the redheads even suggested taking a bath, so while the water was still running Wanda added them to the tub as well. You didn’t like a hot bath, a fact that you had been sure to tell Natasha when she’d first tried to lower you into an aftercare session with one, so Wanda figured she had plenty of time to go back and collect you while the water cooled down some more. She could already see the bath bomb coloring the water pink as she left, and she knew both yours and her skin would smell like strawberries and vanilla once you crawled out and dried off. 
You had come back to yourself the faintest bit when Wanda re-entered the bedroom. You’d curled up onto your side, your head resting on one of your arms as you let your eyes remain closed. At the sound of her gentle footsteps, wide eyes still glassy shot open and searched for her. Unlike the state you’d been in when she left to run the bath, you were able to recognize her presence now and you made that very clear. “Mommy!” You cried, a fresh set of tears brimming your eyes as you reached a single hand out to her. Wanda kneeled down in front of the bed, gently taking your hand in hers and kissing it softly.
The hand that wasn’t occupied reach out to brush strands of fallen hair away from your face, and as expected, when she ran the pad of her thumb over your bottom lip, your tongue shot out to lick at it before soft lips claimed it entirely. Wanda smiled fondly, her other fingers gently stroking against your cheek. “Privet, moya milaya devochka.” 
You were still too far gone to comprehend the Russian sentence that you had become familiar with, but that didn’t bother Wanda who hadn’t been expecting a response in the first place. You were falling out of your head fairly quickly, and she worried that your humiliation was the leading factor in your unwillingness to let the fog linger fully. 
“Left.” You croaked pitifully around the soft weight of her thumb in your mouth, your wide eyes desperate for her to understand the message you were trying to convey and not let it happen again. 
“I didn’t leave.” Wanda shook her head firmly, placing another kiss to the top of your hand that curled around hers tightly, unwilling to let go for even a single second. You were always clingy when she got you in this state, and she adored every second of it. “Mommy ran us a bath. We’ve gotta get cleaned up.” She promised you, and at the mention of one of your favorite activities, your torso shot up from the bed and her hand fell away from your face. You wobbled in your disoriented and fuzzy state, leaning into her touch when she reached out to stabilize you. “Come on, sweetheart. There are bubbles waiting for you!” 
Wanda helped you into the bathroom, easing herself into the tub before she helped you over the edge and into her arms. You didn’t go for her fingers like she’d anticipated, merely wiggling your way down in her embrace until your head fell onto the swell of her breast. Not wanting to question you when you were so sensitive, Wanda merely dragged her hand across the inside of your thigh as you sat sideways in her lap, transfixed on the sharp edge of her jaw that clenched when you got too far into her head. She’d have to remember to thank Natasha for pushing to get the bigger tub when they’d remodeled the bathroom years ago, it was certainly coming in handy now. Your body was washed with tender touches, the loofa used a light blue color and saturated in Wanda’s own body wash. She didn’t know why you continued to buy your own, when the only one who ended up using it was her after you’d taken the last of hers. 
It was a comfortable silence that fell over the both of you as the bath water slowly became colder and colder, and with each minute that passed in combination with Wanda’s gentle stroking of your hip or your cheeks, you fell firmly beneath the blanket of fuzzy emptiness that you’d been fighting off before. You felt so loved and so cared for, there wasn’t a single thought in your mind beside her. The humiliation of your accident had waned away, replaced by only flourishing warmth. 
Eventually, your lips began to root around for something to suckle on. Wanda’s fingers hadn’t moved to your mouth quick enough, and your tongue sought out the first soft thing that it could find. A gasp fell from Wanda’s lips when you took her sensitive nipple into your mouth, a sharp sensation shooting through her body that was in no way sexual. She’d always had her speculations about this kind of contact, but now that she had it for herself to experience, she understood. She had all of your mind in her hands at this moment, but you had all of her body. It was a delicate balance that further emphasized how your relationship could only thrive if all parties were equal and respected. Wanda trailed a soft finger over the bridge of your nose, her own scrunching up in admiration. 
“Find something you like, little one?” She teased, but there was no bite behind her words as she gently adjusted your latch to be more comfortable for the both of you. The bath water was officially cold, no longer able to be passed off as warm, but Wanda would allow you to sit in it just this once. She was always such a stickler for crawling out of the tub when the water went cold, but even she didn’t want to leave the intimacy of this moment as your eyes fluttered closed and your tongue made gentle sweeps across her nipple. “You did so good for me. So so good. Mommy’s so proud of you. My good girl.” She whispered delicate praise into the otherwise quiet bathroom, her eyes appreciating how the dim candle light made your glassy eyes glow like a fire had been placed behind them. 
She could faintly hear the front door open downstairs and she smiled knowing that Natasha had finally made it home. It wasn’t often that the Russian went into the office alone, but today had worked out weirdly and Wanda wouldn’t trade it for anything. Natasha had noticed how quiet the house was upon entering, and she tried her best not to disturb the stillness that you and Wanda had created. She took the stairs one at a time, peeking into Wanda’s office when she noticed the door was oddly ajar. Wanda either had the door firmly closed or entirely open, it was never left in the half-opened state it was now. Two pairs of shorts and the puddle on the floor told her everything she needed to know about what had happened while she was away at work. Anticipating your blissed out headspace and Wanda’s full hands, Natasha cleaned the scene, still dressed in business slacks and an off-white satin blouse. The chair had been scrubbed and sanitized, and the floor had been given the same treatment in only a matter of minutes. There was no need to buy a new chair now, and memories of this afternoon would linger in the room anytime either one of you set your sight on it. 
Natasha carried yours and Wanda’s shorts back into the bedroom. She picked up the pile of clothes that had been left on the floor, adding them to the laundry basket they kept hidden away in the closet before her own clothes were thrown on top. She dressed quickly, able to hear the one-sided conversation that was happening on the other side of the wall. 
“Daddy’s home.” Wanda cooed sweetly to you, her eyes filled with gentle love and admiration that felt so full she wanted to cry. You barely heard her words, and if you did, you didn’t fully comprehend them, but she didn’t expect you to. “She’ll be so proud of how good you were for Mommy. The best little duckling.” 
Natasha had decided then to make her presence known, two big and cozy towels in her hands. The initial sight of you and Wanda together had shocked her, her eyes transfixed on where her wife’s nipple was in your mouth, but she didn’t make it a big deal. Lowering herself onto the tile floor beside the tub, placing the towels just out of what she deemed the splash zone, the Russian reached out gently to caress your still flush cheeks. 
“How did this happen?” Natasha questioned Wanda, keeping her voice soft so as to not disturb you when you looked so content and fulfilled. The scent of strawberry and vanilla clung to the air in the bathroom, enough for Natasha to know that one of your favorite bath bombs had been thrown into the tub. 
“She’s down deep.” Wanda merely hummed, leaning over the edge of the tub to lay her lips against Natasha’s. “It was the first thing she found when she decided she needed something in her mouth.” Wanda laughed softly, the vibrations jostling her breasts much to your displeasure. Your hand fell onto the swell of her breast, keeping it still as you suckled contently despite the near interruption. 
“I can’t say I blame her.” Natasha teasingly pinched at Wanda’s nipple, not missing the way the Sokovian’s eyes fluttered closed and she chased the sensation when it was pulled away. Wanda had sensitive nipples, it was a known fact that Natasha loved to abuse, but something about this moment with you just felt entirely pure and wholesome. “Let me be the bad guy and get her out. You’re freezing.” Natasha frowned when she noticed just how cold to the touch Wanda’s skin was. She grabbed at you instantly, noticing that the sections of your skin that had been submerged in the water were just as cold as Wanda’s. 
You whined in protest when you were pulled away from Wanda’s chest and wrapped up like a little bug in the towel that Natasha had brought into the bathroom for you. Natasha didn’t bat an eye at your pitiful whimpering, carrying out of the bathroom and toward the guest bedroom when she gathered the hint that the comforter needed to be washed before any of you laid beneath it that night. It was scary how in tune she and Wanda could be at times, but you weren’t fully present enough to comment on their freaky telepathy. 
Natasha got you dressed into a pair of summer pajamas that still occupied the guest room from when you’d first started spending the night. Your clothes occupied nearly every room at this point, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She adored the little traces of your presence that popped up at random moments, which might be the reason why she no longer scolds you for leaving your shoes in every corner of the house despite the large collection at the front door. By the time you're beneath the blankets in the guest bed, Wanda’s coming into the room in a pair of pajama shorts, though she’s still void of a shirt. 
“Giving in so easily, moya lyubov’? And here I thought you were the strict one.” Natasha teased, knowing fully what Wanda had intended on when she purposefully left the matching top in the drawer where the shorts used to lay. 
“I introduced her to a lot today. I’m not going to try and get her to take my fingers when I know that’s not what she wants.” Wanda merely shrugged, allowing her soft heart to bleed into her words for the briefest minute before she was slipping back into the headspace you craved. “Come here, my little duckling. Let’s get you all comfy.” Wanda pulled your body into hers, guiding your lips down to her chest. Her nipple was sensitive, sore from the earlier abuse, but she didn’t mind the sting of pain that came when your lips wrapped firmly around her skin. “You did so good today, milaya. So good.” 
Natasha curled herself around Wanda, keeping you close between the both of them. It wasn’t long before your lips fell slack around Wanda’s nipple and your breathing evened out. Wanda and Natasha smiled down at you endearingly, deciding there was no harm in taking a little nap after the day that they'd had.
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wandasaura · 2 months
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LOVE IS A RUTHLESS GAME
summary — it’s been months since natasha’s submitted to her wife, but that’s about to change. you’re lucky enough to watch the entire scene unfold
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, the chaotic duo of lucky and fanny, sub!nat, sub!reader, face slapping, pussy slapping, edging, cockwarming, face sitting, nipple stimulation, degradation, praise, dildo riding, dom/sub dynamics, teasing, begging, delayed orgasm, orgasm control, mentions of exhibitionism, oral, bondage, finger sucking, cum eating, threesome, aftercare, men/minors dni
authors note — we’re not even going to address the fact that this was meant to be an entirely separate fic and that now i have to write a part two because it got too long to add any more. this is literal filth, but there are some cute/goofy moments + mean wanda
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
It was bound to be a great day when Natasha got a phone call from Yelena asking if she could watch Fanny and Lucky for a couple of hours; some work conflict having come up on short notice and Kate was already out of town. Those couple of hours had turned into an overnight arrangement rather quickly, but you were just happy that Natasha agreed to keep both dogs for the night and hadn’t sent the excitable pups back through the door they came in at when Yelena dropped the bombshell. 
Wanda was less than pleased to have not one but two dogs running around her perfectly kept house, and had turned her glare on Natasha multiple times because of it. It turns out that Kate and Yelena let the pups run wild, furniture wasn’t off limits and wiping their paws at the door was entirely foreign. You had looked at Wanda in sheer amusement when she’d tried to get the two tail-wagging pups to understand the concept of drying their paws before stepping onto her hardwood floors. They’d merely shook their coats and trotted past her, muddy paw prints adorning the couch seconds later. It was safe to say that Natasha was beyond the point of simply being in trouble with the Sokovian. The Russian had been tiptoeing around for hours, her eyes filled with unbudgeable worry as she scouted each room for Wanda’s presence before even considering entering fully.  
When Natasha appeared again, hair tied up in a bun and blue light glasses slipping down the slope of her nose, that same gleam of hesitance brimmed in her calculated green eyes. You were curled up on the couch, Fanny’s head on one thigh while Lucky’s head rested on the other. Your eyes were staring straight ahead at the television screen, an old movie you hadn’t seen in ages holding your attention, but the dogs had decided that giving Wanda grief since their arrival had officially tired them out. Lucky snored, you found out rather quickly. Fanny was quiet, but your heart ached when she whined every so often and the little paws folded beneath her shaggy belly twitched and jerked like she was trying to run. You didn’t know much about dogs, had never had much interest in having one of your own, but you could appreciate their warm comfort. The Sokovian that was being searched for had gone out back an hour ago, a book in her hands that was already half finished but rather lengthy. As she’d passed you on her way out, careful not to let the dogs out with her, she’d told you she wouldn’t mind an interruption if you wanted to join her, but Natasha had pointedly been left out of that invitation. 
“Where’s your girlfriend?” Natasha asked cautiously, fixing the black framed glasses so they sat on the top of her head, no longer needing them for the work assignments she left behind in her office. There was never any shortage of work to be done, never any space between deadlines and start-ups, but the women found a balance easily, something you admired as more than just their girlfriend. They were never CEO’s first. They were wives, girlfriends, sisters, friends, people. Pursuing a career in computer science has shown you the harsher sides of corporate companies and the intricacies that running a successful business entails. You’d shaken hands with too many sour old men that devoted their lives to the office and were somehow surprised when their wives left them. Wanda and Natasha would never understand how easy they made it look, and how inspiring they are, being successful women in positions of power. 
“My girlfriend, is she?” You quirked a single eyebrow, an expression you had more or less adopted as your own since the start of the summer. Seeing you wear an expression that Wanda practically owned never failed to make Natasha weak in the knees. “Getting a divorce that I don’t know about?” 
“After tonight? We might be.” Although Natasha was merely teasing, playing into the game that you had set up, you frowned at the genuine concern in her simple words. Yelena had put her in between a rock and a hard place, even if it wasn’t entirely intentional. She had definitely left out the part about needing someone to watch the dogs overnight on purpose, but Wanda’s reaction to the news wasn’t her fault. Natasha always checked base with Wanda before she agreed to anything that involved more than just herself, Yelena had no reason to assume anything different of today, but in the chaos of receiving the phone call only minutes before a virtual conference, it had fallen away from Natasha’s mind until the doorbell rang.  
You smiled sympathetically at Natasha, wanting to kiss the creased skin between her eyebrows until it was smooth and soft with ease, but you were effectively nap-trapped by the Golden Retriever and Akita who you didn’t really want waking up anytime soon. They’d finally calmed down, there was silence over the house again, and disturbing the peace felt like initiating a war. “Wanda will get over it.” 
“Wanda hates dogs.” Natasha rolled her eyes like that was the most obvious answer ever, which it was, you knew extremely well how passionate Wanda was about not liking or wanting a dog, but she didn’t hate dogs enough to completely walk away from Natasha. You sighed, deciding that disturbing the nap the two pups were taking on you was less important than resolving the rising issue between your girlfriends. 
Fanny yelped when you shrugged her head off of your thigh, but Lucky remained quiet and merely resettled into the cushions that were warm from where your weight had sat. You grabbed Natasha’s hand without any explanation, not that you needed one, but still she let you guide her through the house without questioning where you were leading her. Her expression grimmed when she spotted Wanda lounged beside the pool, a recently published law book in her hands that was nearly finished as she turned yet another page getting closer to the official end. You didn’t spare the time to admire how fast she read, merely slipped through the sliding glass door and dragged Natasha along with you. 
The door was closed quickly, because although Lucky and Fanny were seemingly content on the couch for the time being, probably missing their Moms as the hours rolled by and the heavy sun became lighter with dusk, you didn’t fancy taking the risk of them wandering outside to find where you’d gone.  
Wanda peered over the edge of her book, sunglasses that were no longer needed now that the unforgiving sunlight had become crisp with wisps of orange, perched on the top of her head in the same fashion as Natasha’s. They were eerily similar, always so in tune with the other even when the tide got choppy. There was no question about how or why they worked so well together, they just did. 
“Please tell your wife that you’re not going to divorce her.” You deadpanned, not even sparing Natasha a glance as you firmly addressed Wanda, who raised both eyebrows in question at your demand. Wanda’s eyes, sparkling beneath the sun, looked between you and Natasha with something unreadable deep beneath them. “She’s being unreasonable. That’s my job.” You pushed further, sensing that Wanda’s silence was around for the long haul if you didn’t make the severity of the situation known. Natasha was uncharacteristically not herself in the moment, and you despised every second of it. 
Wanda sighed, allowing her hands to relinquish the grip she had on her book. It fell onto her thighs that were warm from constant sunlight, the only shadow thrown over her illuminating body. “Natalia, don’t be dense.” She rolled her eyes, accent strong as the day she’d learned how to say her first sentence. The air was thin around the three of you, Natasha’s grip on your hand tight and unnerving. This was not the way Wanda addressed things, for a second you stopped to consider that maybe Natasha had a point to be so concerned, but that fell away when a whimper so soft it sounded like another tale that the wind tried to tell reached your ears. 
Wanda wasn’t annoyed. No, that is absolutely not what was going on. You’d thought she was, had every reason to believe that she was, until a ghost of a smirk splayed across her lips tinted pink from how many strawberries she’d eaten beside the pool. Their dynamic had been only a whispered thing, soft stories and recounts of the nights where Natasha gave herself over to Wanda, but in the almost year that you’d been present in their home and in their lives, you’d never seen it play out. You had no reason to when you were merely around to be a release for Natasha, but now you were their girlfriends, and it dawned on you harsher than the unforgiving sun that it had been months since Natasha relinquished control. This wasn’t about her being paranoid, this was about her wanting to be reprimanded, wanting to let Wanda take over. 
Wanda stood from the lounge chair, bowl of strawberries and her book the only things that said she was ever laid out at all. She was close enough to smell when her feet stopped carrying her forward, and you noted that she must’ve gotten a new perfume because there was something reminiscent of grapefruit lingering around her. You held your breath when Wanda’s palm connected with Natasha’s cheek, the slap sounding harsher than it was. You’d grown familiar with loud echoes after soft slaps, your ass had been discolored by them too many times. There was nothing that could’ve warned you about the harsh treatment, but Natasha didn’t waver behind you. Her knees didn’t fold like yours would have and her shoulders never shook like she feared the next hit. Slapping was a hard limit for you, but Natasha merely sighed at the contact of Wanda’s palm hitting cheek. 
“It’s been a while since I’ve played with you, hasn’t it, kroshechnyy tantsor?” Wanda cooed, a glint of danger breaching her eyes. This was not how she handled you. You’d seen her be harsh, cruel even, but she looked downright mean as the sun glimmered against every inch of available skin that already held a lingering tan. Natasha was allured by the look in her wife’s eyes, and you noticed that she hadn’t yet spoken at your side. 
“Is that what you want? You want me to play with you, milaya? Want our little duckling to know what a slut her Daddy is?” Wanda pressed further, edging Natasha right into a state that was only able to be categorized as submissive. You could hear the stories of their dynamic a million times a day, but nothing would have ever prepared you for the sight of it to be unfolding right in front of you; unfiltered and perfectly easy. “You can speak, milaya. Tell me what you want.” 
“Please, Wanda.” There it was, the first utterance of Natasha’s gravely voice in the minutes that it had been since you dragged her outside. It was light, airy even, softer than a million seeds falling from the pappus of a dandelion. 
“Detka,” Wanda looked toward you, her eyes so much softer than they had been as she peered into Natasha’s soul and dared her to push back. You hummed, inclining your head to the side in an expression that radiated innocence and submission. Even if she wasn’t playing with you, Wanda was still your dominant, you still felt she deserved to be shown respect as she floated nearer and nearer to one of her favorite headspaces. You adored every shade of green that lived within the Sokovian’s eyes, but there was something so captivating about the shade of Juniper that attempted to drown her pupils when she let herself hold all control. “I am not going to be soft with Natalia. You are welcome to join us in the bedroom, but if it gets too much for you, I expect you to leave. Do not stay because you think you’ll be able to handle it.” 
Your brain was a mess of spiraling thoughts, wondering the state that Natasha would be left in when Wanda was through with her, and the extent of which they played at all. There were so many unanswered questions that you hadn’t been at liberty to ask before, but now you had every right to know what turned your girlfriends on, and there was no way you’d be missing out on whatever the scene had to offer. Despite the heavy gears turning in your head that were effectively dampening your panties, you managed to nod your head albeit hesitantly and jerkily. “Okay.” You breathed out, earning a smile from the Sokovian and a tight squeeze of your hand from the Russian. “Are you okay with me watching?” You turned the question on Natasha, assuming that considering Wanda was the one who had extended the invitation she wasn’t opposed to your presence in the room as she unraveled all the tight knots Natasha had been putting into place. 
“Oh honey.” Wanda preened with an edge to her tone that had Natasha whining at your side, “Natalia is quite the fan of having an audience. My little slut thinks it’s quite the turn on to be the main attraction. Isn’t that right, shlyukha?” 
Natasha nodded quickly, her eyes clouded with lust and desperation that wasn’t unusual, but had never been so translucent. You wondered if you looked the same when Wanda had you beneath her thumb, pliant and eager to be ruined, but now was not the time for daydreams about your own submissive nature. 
“Oh.” A whispered response fell off of your tongue as your cheeks became hot with the presence of a blush that was a result of anything but embarrassment. Your stomach tightened at the information, imagining what scenarios had led to that discovery and how intensely they’d played into it. Natasha was not shy. She had no reason to be with her perfectly smooth and silky skin and tits that could win awards if there was ever such a competition to judge. She was breathtaking, you knew it and she knew it, but you’d never expected to hear that she was into exhibition. A sense of pride flooded your system when you could pinpoint the appropriate term on the tip of your tongue, Wanda’s mini lectures paying off. 
“Mmm.” Wanda hummed, a smirk on her lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she practically undressed Natasha. The woman was barely upright anymore, her knees weak as she readjusted her stance time and time again, and you weren’t oblivious to the way her thighs pressed together trying to relieve the ache in her core. If Wanda noticed, which she did, nothing was said about the vain attempts. “Detka, be a dear and help Natalia into the bedroom will you? I want her in a single-column tie before I get up there.” 
Natasha groaned beside you, her head as heavy as a ragdolls as it lulled back and faced the dwindling sunshine like a lonely sunflower would. The train of spiraling thoughts that had been running circles around your brain came to a halting stop at the request, a tinge of pink rising across your neck as you fumbled with your intertwined fingers, not even remember when you had dropped Natasha’s hand, or maybe she had been the one to drop yours, “I don’t– What is that?” 
Wanda, patient as always, merely smiled and inclined her head toward Natasha, an expectant hardness lingering within her sage stare that was darkening by the minute in tune with the depleting sunlight across the sky. It wasn’t cold by any means, still in the warmer months of summertime, but the air around you felt frigid either way. The only thing that could bring warmth back to your body was the touch of your girlfriends. “Natalia will show you. Won’t you, malen'kaya shlyushka. You’ll show our duckling how you like to be restrained to the headboard?” 
“Yebat.” Natasha whimpered, her eyes flickering toward you, filled with desperate longing that didn’t seem to be Wanda’s main concern at the moment. You gnawed at your bottom lip, your eyes hooded and dark, twinged with lust that was steadily growing. “Yes.” Natasha exhaled, eyes flickering back up to meet Wanda’s when the lawyer shifted her stance and inclined her head expectantly. 
“Good girl.” Wanda’s praise was curt and dismissive, not filled with warmth and satisfaction that you had grown so used to in recent months. You found yourself frowning, because even if the praise hadn’t been intended for you, you still hung onto her every word. Wanda, ever observant, didn’t fight the fond expression that slipped across her features as she turned her sharp gaze to you.  “You’re a good girl too, moya utenok. Now go help Natalia. I’ll make sure the ties are okay, Natty won’t get hurt. I just want you to try your best. Okay?” Despite not recognizing the anxiousness that settled in your belly amidst the desperation that brewed simultaneously, the proposition of being the one to restrain Natasha had worried you, but your shoulders relaxed at Wanda’s assurance that your attempt wouldn’t be the final verdict if she found anything less than perfect with the knots you bound her wife with. You nodded, a whispered response filling the air that separated your body from the Sokovians. 
Natasha grabbed your hand, whether it was to steady herself or to ground you, you weren’t entirely sure, but you laced your fingers together and set your course back toward the house where Fanny and Lucky were waiting at the sliding glass door. You’d forgotten about the four legged pups since coming outside, but their hot panting that dirtied the glass implied that they hadn’t forgotten about you. You didn’t try to keep them inside as you slipped in, figuring that keeping them away from the breakable indoors while the three of you were otherwise occupied was the best plan of action if you were going to save Wanda a heart attack. 
“Natalia!” Wanda’s voice was precisely projected as it reached both yours and Natasha’s ears, the thickness of her accent wearing slightly as she forced the words through her diaphragm carefully. It was still a wonder how many years the lawyer had spent in the United States, but it had been enough to ease the traces of home out of her tone naturally. “YA khochu, chtoby utenok byl na rozovom remeshke, kogda ya priyedu tuda.” 
Natasha’s breath stuttered in her chest, and though you were picking up on the simple terms of endearment that they uttered to you routinely, you understood nothing of the sentence that had been just loud enough to settle through the space you occupied. Natasha did however, and when she closed the sliding glass door and guided you deeper into the house, she whispered shortly against the shell of your ear, “Wanda’s trying to kill you.” 
You paled slightly at the confirmation that whatever Wanda had requested, had been in regards to you. Unable to predict what the lawyer could have wanted, you didn’t think to ask, not wanting any distractions that would interfere with the ropes you were instructed to bind. The bedroom was saturated in darkness when you entered through the door, curtains drawn and lights switched off. The only sounds that suggested the room was occupied came from yours and Natasha’s footsteps, but even they were softer than usual. The energy that Wanda possessed had taken its toll, and both of your bodies were eager for sensations that only the Sokovian had the authority to grant. 
Natasha reached for the light switch, drenching the room with artificial brightness that tore shades of cream from the pillowcases adorning the bed. Traces of you lingered across every expanse of space, the room no longer just theirs but yours. Yours to share gentle kisses concealed by darkness in. Yours to sing and dance in when rain pelted the widows and work had been forgotten. Yours to share these intimate moments. Yours. Just yours. 
Natasha tilted her head toward the closet, a space you had grown familiar with for more than just the necessity of needing an outfit in the morning. Your hands reached for the black case that you knew held instruments and toys for a scene like this, but you were stopped before your fingers could ghost against the smooth material. Instead, the Russian reached toward a shelf above the racks of suits and dresses, grabbing a red leather briefcase bound securely by a silver combination lock. Natasha placed it on one of the lesser occupied shelves, her fingers working at the black engraved digits with a practiced ease. 
Despite the submission that you had seen from Natasha minutes prior, she looked down at you with dominance that was familiar and welcomed. Her voice was stern as she spoke to you quietly, not even sparing a glance at the lock that she continued to work open. “We don’t want you in this case unless we tell you. What’s in here is not for you to be playing around with. The combination is our birthdays, I trust that you won’t go snooping around where you don’t belong without permission.” 
“Okay.” You whispered a response, finding that you were practically incapable of speaking at any other volume, entirely consumed with the weight of their presence and not wanting to disturb it. “Natty?” You peered up at your dominant, knowing that tonight was about her but unable to clear the lingering bliss in your head as you looked at her with nothing but sheer admiration. 
“Yes, dorogaya?” Natasha smiled at you softly, her hand reaching to cup your cheek though the tips of her fingers were chilled slightly from the metal she’d been grasping at. You didn’t shy away, leaning into her touch as she let herself be consumed with only you, not the promise of being tied to the bed and fucked into oblivion. “You still okay with watching? Neither of us are going to be upset if you need to leave. Wanda and I don’t have the same rules as we do with you.” 
You shook your head adamantly, wanting her to understand that their hot and heavy dynamic was not the cause of your soft question. “I’m okay. Just wanted to say I love you.” 
Natasha smiled, kissing you softly in the dimly lit closet. The only light that penetrated the space came from the bedroom, but you didn’t need additional light to see the affection in her eyes. “I love you too.” She murmured against your lips, but as quickly as your sacred moment had come, it fell away and your attention was on the case that Natasha pulled open with eager fingers. 
The case, although small, held toys and items that made your eyes bulge and your belly quiver. A collection of knives wrapped pristinely in thick black leather occupied a small fraction of the briefcase, beside it three half melted candles with wicks the color of coal. A pink dildo with a suction cup attachment at the base caught your attention, wondering why it had been displaced from the rest of the dildo’s and strap-ons that the slavic women owned. You didn’t recognize anything else in the case; a bundle of rope that you assumed would be used to restrain Natasha, multiple thin link chain attachments, and an instrument that almost resembled a pizza cutter but the blade was prickled with sharp nubs that looked rather dull. Your eyes searched for Natasha’s, but she was busy rummaging through the case for something unspoken about. Your breathing shuddered when she collected a small bottle of lube in her hands, passing it over to you with a wink. 
She grabbed the dildo and the rope next, closing the case just as quickly as she had opened it although the seconds it took her to find the objects she wanted felt like agonizing minutes. Her eyes, submissive and hazy, found yours in the dimly light brightness of the closer, a soft incline of her head pointing in the direction of the bedroom. “Come on.” You nodded jerkily, following her back into the master bedroom where Wanda’s presence still lacked to be. 
Natasha didn’t head for the bed like you’d been expecting, she headed for the single chair in the corner of the room that had never seen an ounce of attention from the women who preferred to hang around in the living room where sunlight bled in at every angle. You gasped when she stuck the dildo to the seat of the chair, almost a grimace in her face when she turned to look back at you. Although she proceeded to explain what Wanda expected of you, there was no need for an explanation. The bottle of lube in your hands wasn’t for her, it was for you. Another rush of excitement sparked in your belly like connecting live wires, and you barely concealed your whine when Natasha began to strip out of her clothes, leaving them in pristine piles on the nightstand. The lace panties were the last to leave her body, deep red and thin as they slipped down her legs and pooled at her feet with glistening wetness visible across the center. You swallowed thickly, eyes caught on the sight of her core that, although mostly concealed by thighs that you wanted around your head, glimmered distinctly beneath the overhead light. 
Your eyes trailed upward, drinking in the sight of her tensing abs that had only been so prominent last summer; the summer you arranged to be her submissive. Natasha found it easier to work out in the summer, when the weather was inviting and the workload lulled. Her hours spent in the home gym hadn’t been in vain, and the ripples in her muscles held your attention for longer then they should have. You didn’t want to pull your eyes away from her chest, where the sienna color of her breasts became rosy at her nipples that were pebbled and eager for stimulation. Another shuddering breath slipped into the space, but as easily as you’d lost your composure Natasaha was strapping you back into it and handing you the rope. 
She laid starfish on the bed, her swollen and glistening core fully in sight as her thighs spread to allow access to whoever pleased to touch her first. Wanda had said nothing about binding her legs, and the almost silky rose in your hands wouldn’t reach to tether them down. Natasha, head thrown back against the pillows and red curls spilling across them, looked at you expectantly with intense green eyes. Never had this much control been placed on your shoulders, but you wouldn’t disappoint either one of them. Your thighs straddled Natasha’s waist, your chest falling in front of her face as she raised her arms and instructed you through the process of restraining her the way both she and Wanda liked. A whimper fell from your lips when Natasha leaned forward to mouth at your nipple through the thin t-shirt you wore, her hips grinding upwards and forcing sensations of pleasure through your core. You faltered on top of her, panting for breath as you tried to keep your attention on the ties you were making across her wrists, though it proved difficult when her teeth settled firmly around your nipple and tugged. 
“N-Nat.” You whined, hips rocking with their own intention as you dropped your hands to the pillows and let yourself enjoy a single moment of the pleasure she was provoking. Your clit throbbed, your panties are drenched and clinging to your core. You were certain that if Wanda chose this moment to come up the stairs, the sight of you would be painfully erotic. Natasha fully naked, you fully clothed, hips grinding and thrusting and broken moans of pleasure echoing off otherwise silent walls. She could destroy you even beneath you and partially immobile, you were no longer blind to that fact. “S-Stop.” As much as you didn’t want her to, you weren’t sent upstairs to give pleasure and earn pleasure, and the thought of Wanda having a reason to punish the both of you was not a fire you wanted to start at the moment. 
Natasha did stop, but she hummed in disappointment as her head fell back against the pillows, framed by your wrists and hands that still braced the majority of your weight. The knots around her wrists were as good as you would be able to get them without any further instruction, but you had no idea if they were good enough for Wanda’s standards. You didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on the potential failure, able to hear the door sliding against the track and the softness of Wanda’s voice as she told Fanny and Lucky to stay. 
“Do they feel okay?” You checked in softly, peering down between your arms to assure that her face gave no indication of discomfort. The Russian didn’t respond, instead pulling at her arms and humming something that was inaudible with her teeth grinded together and lips pursed tight. “Nat, I need you to tell me if they feel okay.” There was panic in your voice that pulled Natasha back into the moment, eyes searching yours before she realized that the soft sounds Wanda made as her feet braced the hardwood were growing closer and closer. Her footsteps weren’t yet on the stairs that led to the room you occupied, but close enough to remind you both of how you weren’t in the positions she’d requested. 
“They’re perfect, detka.” Natasha smiled encouragingly, bucking her hips beneath you once more, though this time the action was a reminder to shuffle off of her and settle yourself on the fuschia toy that was admittedly an eyesore within the neutral toned room. Your clothes came off in sloppy movements, not folded neatly like Natasha’s as they piled onto the floor and became wrinkled. The bottle of lube was unneeded with the thick ropes of arousal that clung to your inner thighs, a whine ripping from the back of your throat as you eased yourself onto the toy but forced your hips to remain still, not having Wanda’s permission to ride it just yet. You felt exceedingly full, each groove amongst the shaft pushing against the sensitive interior of your tight channel. Your eyes fluttered closed when you sucked in a breath, jostling your body just enough to earn a sweet sensation of pleasure within your velvet walls. Your eyes had been closed when Wanda entered, but they snapped open at the sound of Natasha mewling on the bed. 
When your eyes found the Sokovian, she was leaning overtop of Natasha, both knees digging into the mattress beneath her though it barely sunk with her additional weight. Her fingers were adored with glimmering rings like they always were, though now they threaded into the intricate knots you had made with the beige colored rope and pulled tightly. She hummed her satisfaction when she found nothing wrong with the structure of the ties, juniper eyes searching for yours as she smiled proudly. 
“Good job, little duckling.” She praised sweetly, though the words dripped with danger as she possessed that same glint of passion in her eyes that had appeared beneath the sunset. “I didn’t know my sweet girl would be so skilled at tying her Daddy up.” Your core pulsed around the toy in your core, wetness seeping into the smooth faux leather beneath you. A whimper fell off your lips before you could keep it in, and Wanda’s lips twinged into a smile of fake sympathy. “I bet that pussy’s so full, malyshka. Why don’t you tell Natalia how good you feel, this poor little pussys aching for the same treatment. Isn’t that right, slut?” You gaped at the resounding slap that echoed off Wanda’s palm as she let her hand fall across the Russian’s hot cunt, wetness glistening beneath the light as the Sokovian pulled her hand back to inspect, toying with the arousal that remained on the expanse of her tinted pink skin. “So wet. Did you enjoy having your little girl tie you up, Natalia?” 
Natasha moaned desperately, her hips chasing after Wanda’s hand that wasn’t willing to repeat the former action. Her head bobbed against the pillows, curls becoming frizzy and wild from the frantic  nod that became the only answer she provided. Wanda, seemingly satisfied with Natasha’s chosen silence, turned her gaze back to you, the demand to share your experience heavy in the silence.
Your cheeks, pink and flush, became hotter at the premise of vocalizing the sensations that were admittedly dull with lack of any major movement. “You’ll learn very quickly that I do not ask twice, milaya. Use your words before you earn the same rules as Natalia.” You didn’t know Natasha’s rules, they’d never been discussed, but her silence was enough to guess that she wasn’t allowed to speak without permission. 
“It feels g-good. I feel so full, N-Nat.” You cried out, hips twitching for movement that you wouldn’t allow. However short your explanation was, Wanda seemed pleased as she turned her attention to Natasha, who up until this point, had received the bare minimum. 
Wanda’s fingers sought out Natasha’s nipples, and although yours remained untouched and entirely fine, you winced at the force behind her synchronous tugs. Natasha’s back arched off the bed and into Wanda’s hands, either an attempt to seek more or to lessen the sting entirely. The wanton moans that fell past her lips like a symphony were indicative of the pleasure the action had provided, and although her legs weren’t bound, you didn’t miss the twitch of her muscles as she strained to remain still. 
Your core pleaded for more, walls fluttering around the intrusion of the toy that you hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. The stretch felt intimidating, and so eagerly you wanted to bring your hips upward only to sink back down and accept the presence again. Your nails dug into the arms of the chair, knuckles white from the strength of your grip. Across the room, Wanda was tongue deep in Natasha’s mouth, the only sounds that existed around them being the wet smacks of lips losing suction and gasped breaths. Natasha, with her hands bound, fought against the restraints trying to reach out and touch Wanda, but her efforts failed each time she pulled, the knots unwilling to loosen enough for her hands to slip through. Wanda pulled away with a pleased hum, her fingers back at Natasha’s nipples as she twisted them harshly in tune with the other. 
“Please.” Natasha cried out, writhing on the bed as her legs closed tightly, slick thighs rubbing together in an attempt to bring even an ounce of pleasure over her desperate body. Wanda wasn’t pleased by her efforts, hearing the slap land on Natasha’s cheek before you could process seeing it. Wanda was quick, efficient and cruel, but Natasha wasn’t backing down. The lawyer wriggled and thrashed on the bed, a symphony of Russian falling off her tongue as she kept her eyes wide and on Wanda. 
“Do not make me remind you of the rules, Natalia.” Wanda growled lowly, her voice thick with traces of an accent that suited her well, but only worsened your fate as you tried not to let your restraint crumble, wanting desperately to be good for her. You whined on the chair in the corner of the room, unable to stop yourself as you watched Wanda strike Natasha a third time, the Russian a moaning mess beneath the Sokovian as her cheek took on the faintest handprint of pink. “Is there something you need, moya utenok?” 
“C-Can I– Please–” Your desperation had finally won over, and even without Wanda’s permission your hips grinded and thrashed against the leather beneath your thighs, guiding the dildo into that perfectly spongy part of your walls with ease. The sounds of your arousal were embarrassingly loud in the otherwise quiet room, and you could feel Natasha’s eyes on you as she laid stiff and still beneath Wanda. “Please?” 
Wanda hummed thoughtfully, but when she spoke, your blood ran cold with dread and shame. “It seems neither of you need my permission anymore.” She gave you a pointed glare, and your hips stuttered to a stop, no longer searching for pleasure as you shrunk beneath her glare. “Is that what you’d like, moya utenok? For Mommy to let you do whatever you please?” 
Frantically you shook your head, eyes wide and brimming with tears that had no reason to fall but gathered against your waterline anyway. You hated the mere idea of that ever happening, and you were in no mood to test the truth behind her implication. “No! No Mommy!” You pleaded with her, aware of how pitiful and distressed you sounded as your cries shattered the silence. Natasha, though still beneath the fog that had gathered at the forefront of her mind in the face of Wanda’s brutal ministrations, nudged her knee upward, shaking her head at Wanda when the attention fell back down to her. 
When Wanda’s eyes returned to you, they were softer, greener, filled with a gentle affection that had been impossible to find second earlier. “Do you want to ride the dildo, moya lyubov’?” Her voice was softer, kinder, taking on the tone she’d always devoted to you alone. It was a complete turn around from how she’d been addressing Natasha, but the presence of her accent hadn’t wavered. 
“Please Mommy!” You cried out, unsure of how many minutes you’d been impaled by the thick toy, but enough for the sun to have completely settled beneath the moon and taken its warmth with it. The window was open beyond the pulled curtains, a lingering breeze sweeping past your naked skin before it fell short of the bed where Wanda and Natasha remained entangled. The Sokovian’s hands were braced on the Russian’s abdomen, thighs around her waist squeezing tightly and restricting movement. 
“Go ahead, dorogaya. Let me hear those pretty sounds whilst I see how many edges my little slut can handle before she’s begging for mercy.” Wanda smiled eerily sweetly, casting her eyes back down to Natasha who was flush with arousal and the beginning of a grimace. “How many was it last time, hm? Ten?” 
“Eleven.” Natasha corrected, her eyes wide and pleading as she maintained eye contact with Wanda, her fingers twitching as she remained bound to the headboard that you’d thought was going to snap with the might of her struggles. “Wands, I want–” 
“I don’t care what you want, Natalia.” Wanda quipped before the rest of the sentence could ever exist outside of Natasha’s scrambled thoughts. The Russian nodded frantically, swallowing thickly in complete submission but even her reclaimed silence wasn’t enough to satisfy Wanda who pinched the skin of her thigh until she winced and moaned needily, entirely unmade and pliant to be shaped into something new; something a little bit like you. “What do I keep you around for?” 
“To please you.” Natasha’s voice was breathy and soft, the willingness to fight that had begun to swarm within her eyes that tinted a shade similar to evergreen entirely dismantled, replaced by a desire to submit without hesitance. 
“Dumb little sluts do not get to decide how I take my pleasure. Do not make me regret not gagging you.” Wanda scolded, and Natasha was eager to nod her head in understanding, whimpering into the near-silent room when her obedience was rewarded with a single finger circling her pebbled nipple. 
Your hips grinded against the dildo buried deep within your pussy, guiding it across your slick walls near perfectly each time. Wanda’s eyes were transfixed on Natasha, but every few minutes she glanced back at you, and when she did, you could only whimper. In the minutes that it had taken to accomplish such a satisfying pace, Wanda had eased her mouth down to the spot where Natasha needed her most, tongue not daring to be kind as it circled and flicked at the throbbing bundle of nerves that had pleaded for attention since the start. Shattering moans and whispered pleas fell off of Natasha’s tongue, but each time the Russian grew too close to the edge, Wanda pulled away and her hand slapped harshly against Natasha’s cunt. 
At the seventh edge, you’d never seen Natasha so beside herself. Pear shaped tears fell down her perfectly rosy cheeks and dampened the pillow cases when they eventually dripped off her unblemished skin and landed silently against the cotton covers. Her wrists had grown red from the relentless writhing and pulling, but her attention was solely on Wanda who offered no break. Three fingers worked the Russian open and scissored her wide, never fully pulling out before they slammed back into her at a pace so brutal it would be no surprise if she felt the aftermath for days. Your own orgasm was drawing closer as you watched Natasha submit and Wanda claim, and each snap of your hips only further invited it along. 
The eight edge had Natasha wailing, throwing her head back as her hips jerked upward and chased after Wanda. Like every time before, the Sokovian voiced no sympathy, and her hand came down heavy and punishing against the swollen skin that adorned ropes of arousal. Natasha yearned for more, her face begged for Wanda to repeat the simple action of slapping her cunt, but just like the seven times that had come before, her unspoken request was denied. 
“So pretty when you cry for me. Moya khoroshen'kaya malen'kaya shlyukha. Is that what you are? My pretty little whore?” Wanda teased cynically, juniper no longer a shade amongst the blackness of her eyes entirely dilated by lust adorned pupils. She looked entirely ravenous with her hair tousled and chin glimmering with Natasha’s arousal. 
“Y-Yes.” Natasha cried out desperately, her voice scratchy now as it reached your ears. Your hips continued to stutter against the dildo, but without permission to cum, you forced away the growing tension that pulled at every muscle in your belly and begged for relief. 
“Let me hear you say it.” Wanda pushed further, the tips of her fingers tracing the softest shapes into the slickness across Natasha’s inner thighs. 
There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation that crossed Natasha’s face before she was desperately crying out, “I’m your pretty little whore! P-Please Wanda! Please!” 
“So fucking desperate.” Wanda tutted, a single finger sweeping through Natasha’s folds, though she pointedly avoided the Russian clit that throbbed for even an ounce of attention. Wanda was off the bed in seconds, coming straight at you with her glistening finger outstretched. You didn’t need to ask what she wanted, leaning forward to accept the arousal soaked digit into your mouth with eyes as wide as saucers the second she was close enough. 
Wanda hummed, pleased with your desperation, a fond smile pulling at her lips. “Good girl, malyshka.” She groaned at the feeling of your tongue sucking her fingers clean, your tongue lapping across the expanse of her knuckles as she pressed against your tongue, not hard enough to force you to gag, but enough to make your brain fill with static pleasure. You jumped when hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck, leaning into her despite your skin not yet touching. “I know you want to cum, sweet girl. You’ve been so good waiting for Mommy’s permission, I didn’t forget about you. You can cum whenever you want, but that’s it. You don’t need to keep up with Natalia.” Wanda whispered so softly against the shell of your ear you questioned if she was even real. The harshness that she had addressed you with before entirely dismantled. You leaned your forehead against her shoulder, panting as your hips hadn’t stilled on the toy saturated with your arousal. Although the dildo was suctioned to the chair, one of your hands forced it to remain at the perfect angle between your thighs, and each time you drove your hips against the toy, your clit caught on the knuckle of your thumb only spurring you further into a frenzied state as you chased the orgasm you were finally allowed to have. 
Wanda’s touch was gone far too soon, but your eyes traced her steps as she retreated back to Natasha. The redhead was beside herself as she wiggled and squirmed, chest heaving breaths that weren’t quite full. Wanda didn’t hesitate to restart her efforts at working Natasha toward relief, though this time she was much less graceful. Her fingers provoked squelching sounds from the tight cunt they occupied, her arousal coated tongue flicked unforgivingly and quick. Natasha looked like the rawest depiction of beauty as she cried out and whined, desperate to tangle her fingers into Wanda’s hair but to no avail did she succeed. 
It had taken you only minutes to reach a high that had your toes curling and your thighs trembling. Without the grip of either of your girlfriends steadying your hips as you came crashing through your orgasm, your body jerked and writhed for more and less simultaneously. A melodious whine fell off the tip of your tongue before it was overshadowed by a moan that had your lips vibrating at the reverberations. Every muscle in your body tensed before it became nothing but jelly, leaving you a heap of sweat and arousal on the chair suddenly feeling very naked and exposed before the rapidly cooling breeze that snuck in through the open window behind you. Natasha’s eyes were locked on you, her head turned toward the side as she took in the sight of your self-inflicted orgasm. In the year that you had been involved with the Russian, she’d never allowed such a thing. You’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to pleasure yourself in all the best ways, but that wasn’t really what happened anyways, you’d followed all of Wanda’s instructions, you’d waited for permission to fall over the edge, even without the touch of another, you’d never really been in control. 
Your peace was shattered by a sharp and exceedingly needy while falling off of Natasha’s lips, her gaze snapping back toward where Wanda was perched between her thighs as another orasgam ended before it even started. You almost felt bad, almost. Although you weren’t even able to imagine the kind of torment that came with being edged in the same room as your girlfriend that had permission to cum whenever she wanted, Natasha wanted this. It was hard to feel sympathy for a woman who walked herself into a trap and had been the very one to close the door. A smile splayed across your lips when Wanda slapped her cunt, and you couldn’t help the giggle that came soon after when Natasha rattled off the long list of curses she knew in English. Your orgasm had brought a new sense of clarity over your once hazy mind, and now the actions that had seemed so cruel and ruthless, merely resembled affection and mutual trust. Natasha was a strong woman, but she was seemingly a slut in the same breath.
Wanda’s eyes met yours, glimmering with something sharp as a smirk replaced the permanent thin line that sat on her lips whenever Natasha was the focus of her attention. There was amusement clear in her eyes, something twisted lingering beneath the surface that you longed to know the reason for. “You find something funny, malyshka?” 
Revived from the pliable state that you’d fallen beneath at the first instance of Wanda’s unfiltered dominance, your eyes lingering on Natasha’s face for barely a moment before you returned your gaze to Wanda and feigned perfect innocence. “Natty bit off more than she can chew.” You stated simply, aware of how you were betraying the woman that you yourself had bound to the bed, but more aware of the fact that Wanda seemed pleased with your admission. 
“That she did.” Wanda hummed, her fingers toying with Natasha’s sopping entrance that begged for more, but she wasn’t willing to give in. “Come here, my little duckling.” Wanda inclined her head toward where she was perched between Natasha’s thighs, and although your legs felt like jelly beneath you, you didn’t hesitate to comply with the demand. Your breath stuttered when the dildo finally slipped out of your pussy, the veiny grooves rubbing against every hypersensitive inch of your walls. None of the other dildos had such prominent veins, and although it was admittedly one of the smaller toys you’d taken since beginning a relationship with Wanda especially, you felt painfully empty without it inside of you. 
Your steps were wobbly and slow, reminiscent of Bambi if you remembered correctly, but Wanda was in no rush to have you at her side and so she waited with an encouraging smile on her arousal drenched lips. It was warmer beside the bed, that was the first thing you noticed when you’d finally reached where Wanda laid. The wind didn’t dip so far into the room that Natasha felt the chill cold, yet you wondered the response she’d have to being encased by the soft breeze. She was responsive as it is, a shift in temperature was certain to have her mewling for something that wasn’t allowed just yet. 
“Since you find Natalia’s position so funny, detka, I want you to edge her while I ride her face.” Wanda smirked, and suddenly you weren’t finding Natasha’s position so funny anymore. Being allowed to eat either one of them out was the ultimate privilege, something you almost always had to beg for, but now it was being offered without bait, yet it came with a price that felt too steep to pay. Having to deny Natasha an orgasm sounded absolutely horrible. All you ever wanted to do was make her cum quickly and effectively. Wanda was aware of how eager you always seemed to be at the proposition of feeling either of their orgasms on your tongue, and either she’d forgotten that, or she didn’t care at all. 
“But– Wanda!” You whined, desperately hoping that you’d change her mind, but you knew the reality of your situation; either you got on your knees and complied with her request, or she carried on doing it herself. No matter your decision, no matter if it was your tongue or hers, Natasha wasn’t seeing an orgasm until she’d surpassed her last record. 
“Not so funny now is it, milaya?” Wanda grinned like the cheshire cat, and you properly felt like a scolded child beneath her wild stare. You shook your head adamantly at the question, a smile no longer ghosting across your bitten lips as you looked between her and Natasha’s pink and swollen cunt. It was properly abused, fucked out and dripping onto the sheets yet still begging for more of what she wasn’t yet allowed. “What’s your choice, utenok? My little sluts running out of patience.” Her word was true. Natasha looked ready to crumble at any minute, her eyes bouncing between you and Wanda with nothing but desperation in her heavy gaze. 
“Do I have to edge her?” You whispered timidly, looking pleadingly up at the Sokovian. Wanda didn’t respond, merely quirked an expectant eyebrow down at you and shifted her position. You sighed, shoving her out of the way in a manner that was less than graceful, but thankfully it went unreprimanded. 
“Good choice.” Wanda hummed, already standing beside the bed and stripping eagerly out of her clothes. Her skin was tinted with lingering traces of the sun, thin lines adorning her shoulders from where bathing suits had forbidden the kiss of daylight. She looked entirely ethereal as she shimmied out of her own black panties, letting them pool around her ankles for merely a moment before she kicked them away and took her place overtop of Natasha. Her thighs framed the Russian’s face, individual freckles adorning her shins and thighs begging to be kissed and fawned over, but no such thing would happen tonight. With a sharp request for Natasha to stick her tongue out, she sank herself lower and lower until her pussy made contact with the hot and ready muscle. “I’ll tell you what, moya lyubov’,” Wanda began, a cynical smirk on her lips as she grinded her hips against Natasha’s face, dampening the flush skin with her arousal. “if you can get Natalia close with only your fingers, I’ll allow her to cum when I do. If you can’t, we add four more edges.” 
“B-But I want to taste her!” You cried out, looking at Wanda with wild eyes that begged her to fold, but she wouldn’t. This was the kindest she’d been all evening and yet it was still so painfully cruel. 
“Well that’s a shame, sweetheart.” Wanda pouted, but her words were anything but sincere as she rocked against Natasha’s tongue and drug her clit against the textured surface, falling into bliss the longer she kept up with her ministrations. 
You whined, settling on just using your fingers, not able to bring yourself to edge Natasha even further, or at all. Even if she was merely your girlfriend in this moment, all you ever wanted to do was cause pleasure, not be the one to take it away. Your fingers brushed through her folds gently, but Natasha still flinched away and tried to close her thighs. Your body between her legs forbade her from doing so, leaving her entrance easily accessible. You winced yourself, knowing that your fingers were frigid against her hot and worked up cunt, but you didn’t give her the chance to grow accustomed to the feeling. Wanda wasn’t slowing down, and you knew she’d be cruel enough to force you to stop if she were to cum before Natasha grew close. You set a brutal pace, not sparing pleasantries like you’d typically do. Your fingers curled against the softest spot of Natasha’s walls the way you knew she enjoyed, and you committed the sound of her squelching pussy to memory. You’d seen her wet before, you’d gotten her wet before, but you’d never taken the time to unravel her the way Wanda had. She was properly soaked, sheets drenched and darkened beneath her trembling thighs. 
The pad of your thumb found her clit when her walls tightened around your fingers, rubbing skilled circles against the sensitive bud that begged for release you hoped you could provide in time. You didn’t offer praises, didn’t let encouragement slip into the silence filled by only Wanda’s moans as hers became muffled against the cunt riding her face. You were certain they’d fall on deaf ears at this point, entirely positive that Natasha was too far gone into Wanda to even hear you utter her name. Instead, you encouraged her with the pressure of your thumb against her clit and the punishing speed at which you pumped your fingers in and out of her cunt. You had her right on the edge, right at the point of coming apart completely, but Wanda wasn’t close. In your overzealous attempt to match the pace in which the Sokovian had set, you walked not only you, but Natasha into a trap. 
“Stop.” Wanda demanded, and you had no choice but to comply, your fingers coming to a halting stop within Natasha’s cunt that was so desperate for something sweet. You whimpered at the feeling of Natasha’s velvety walls fluttering around your fingers, her clit throbbing beneath your thumb as her hips squirmed wildly on the bed. There was no way you’d be sleeping here tonight, not with Wanda’s insurance that you never sleep on sheets that aren’t perfectly clean. “I’ll give you another chance, moya lyubov’, do not let it go to waste again.” Your eyes snapped up to hers, unsure of whether it was yet another game she was playing, but when her head tilted the the side and her lips pursed, whether it was to hold back her own moans or to intimidate you, you weren’t entirely sure, you knew she wasn’t. 
You nodded frantically, all attempts to get Natasha to the edge resuming, and it wasn’t a hard feat. The Russian was sensitive, so slick your fingers had almost slipped out, but she was already climbing that hill of pleasure again beneath your thumb and around your fingers. It took seconds, mere seconds to have her at that perfect place again, but unlike the last attempt, Wanda was right along with her. The Sokovian moaned as her head fell backward and her hips stuttered, Natasha’s binded hands unable to provide support like she otherwise would’ve. You didn’t wait for permission to fall from Wanda’s lips between her broken moans and breaths, tripling the efforts you’d already set in place to get Natasha thrown off that cliff and into bliss. Your tongue found her clit the second she toppled over, soothing the harsh sensations that you’d previously provided. You moaned at the first taste of her on your tongue, licking and sucking at every expanse of sensitive skin until she was writhing beneath you for an entirely separate reason. 
Your fingers fell away from her cunt at the first indication of oversensitivity, but your tongue kept up its pace, licking her out until you were certain that not an ounce of arousal clung to her skin anymore. That wasn’t enough for you however, and your tongue lapped at the arousal that dampened her thighs, licking it away with eager swipes. At some point, Wanda had eased herself off of Natasha’s face and had begun to undo the binding around her wrists, but you hadn’t realized the Russian was free of her restraints until calloused hands gently reached for your face and pulled you up to see her eye to eye. 
You looked absolutely ravaged with her arousal clinging to your chin and lips, and a blush across your cheeks from your own orgasm. Eagerly you crawled up onto the bed fully, only faintly aware of the ache in your knees and back from the position you’d been laid in as you unraveled her completely. You straddled her lap when she guided you into doing so, your arms twisting around her neck before you dug your face into her shoulder, hiding away from the light. 
“What can I do for you?” You asked softly, voice muffled by her shoulder but she’d understood you perfectly, her hand coming up to stroke along the back of your head as she held you in place. You were vaguely aware of Wanda walking back into the closet, but you didn’t question what she was searching for, content to just be back in Natasha’s arms.  
“Just let me hold you, malyshka. You did such a good job for us.” She praised you quietly, her voice scratchy and raw from the hours of screaming she’d done. You hadn’t realized how much time had slipped away since she’d guided you into the closet by your hand, but the clock on the nightstand hadn’t lied to you yet, and the illuminated numbers indicated that two hours had been devoted to breaking Natasha down. 
“I should be telling you that.” You huffed, curing further into her body, desperate to encase yourself in her warmth. Natasha didn’t mind, letting you curl around her like a little koala as she held you sweetly in the center of the bed. “I never wanna edge you again.” You mumbled against her neck, turning your head so you were pressed directly against her, your soft breaths tickling the sensitive skin of her ear. 
Natasha laughed at your admission, and a gentle finger guided your chin up so your eyes could meet fully and properly for the first time in hours. “You ever edge me again, your ass will be over my lap before you can even say your sorry.” There was no bite to her words, but you never wanted to find out if she was being serious, so you merely nodded quickly in response. “I know Wanda scared you earlier. She gets lost in her head sometimes, she didn’t mean it.” Natasha soothed, but you’d already figured that her words from hours ago weren’t honest. They’d assured you at least a hundred times that the only way you were ever getting away from them, is if it was your own carefully thought over decision. 
“I know.” You whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against Natasha’s in a soft kiss. It was the softest touch she’d felt in hours, and eagerly she leaned into it, giggling at the taste of her own arousal when your tongue brushed against hers. “Ya tebya lyublyu.” You murmured against her, giggling when her lips curled into a grin and she peppered kisses across every inch of your face that she could reach in this position.
“Ya tozhe tabya lyublyu.” She mumbled back, her eyes dancing behind you when Wanda reappeared from the closet. You settled against Natasha’s chest, not wanting to leave her embrace anytime soon, and it didn’t feel like she wanted to let go either. Your eyes fell upon Wanda, who at some point, had thrown a t-shirt on and tied her hair back up into its once occupied messy bun. You made grabby hands at the woman, an action that you had recently learned she could never deny. 
“Privet, moy sladkiy malysh.” Wanda smiled fondly, coming to join both you and Natasha in the mess of sheets. You hadn’t noticed the clothes in her hand before, but you watched as she sat two t-shirts down on the pillow cases that were still damp from Natasha’s tears, and a bottle of cooling lotion quickly joined the pile. She snuggled close against Natasha’s side, her fingers tangling into the Russian’s hair in the same soft and tender way you’d grown accustomed to. “What do you need, Natty?” She asked softly but received the same answer that you had, Natasha just wanting the both of you close for a while. 
Wanda sighed softly, already beginning to detangle herself from Natasha’s arms. “Let me put lotion on your wrists, then I’ll give you both all the cuddles.” 
Natasha groaned, her stubborn attitude already peaking through the surface level haze that twinkled within her eyes. “They don’t even hurt that bad, let me hold you.” 
“You say that every time, and every time I listen to you, you make me get out of bed at three in the morning.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but affection was clear as day in her tone as she didn’t fight the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. “Hug your duckling, she deserves some cuddles for being such a good girl.” Wanda winked at you, and you blushed beneath her smothered praise, hiding your face in Natasha’s chest much to both of their amusement. 
“The best girl.” Natasha pressed a kiss into the top of your head, her lips lingering for longer than necessary, though you weren’t complaining. You settled against her chest, watching Wanda unscrew the cap on the lotion and squeeze a generous amount onto the palm of her hands. Tentatively, you reached your own hand out, wanting to help ease Natasha’s pain in any way possible. Wanda didn’t question your action, squeezing the tiniest pea sized dollop onto your fingers and instructing you to be soft, but make sure that it was all evenly applied. 
Natasha gazed down at you with tender softness in her eyes as you gently took her wrist into your hands and rubbed in the lotion. She couldn’t help the tears that glimmered in her waterline as you eased yourself into her aftercare routine without hesitation, just another part of their life that you so easily integrated into. You beamed up at Wanda when you were done, giggling when the Sokovian kissed the tip of your nose and praised you softly. 
It wasn’t until you heard Lucky bark through the open window that you remembered about the dogs that were still outside and probably hungry by now, the sun having faded into darkness hours ago. You looked between Wanda and Natasha, a crease in your brow as you asked, “Um, do we even have dog food?” 
malen'kaya shlyushka – little slut
ya khochu, chtoby utenok byl na rozovom remeshke, kogda ya priyedu tuda. – i want the duckling on the pink strap by time i come in
privet, moy sladkiy malysh – hi, my sweet baby
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wandasaura · 2 months
Text
THE BEST THING THATS EVER BEEN MINE
summary — when you take the dogs to the park, jealousy takes control when wanda gets too comfortable with someone else.
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, the chaotic duo of lucky and fanny, domestic fluff bc i couldn't help myself, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, mommy kink, biting, love bites, oral fixation, teasing, slight humiliation, brief dumbification, jealousy, bratty reader, thigh riding, mentions of fingering, clothed sex, punishment, aftercare, men/minors dni
authors note — the promised second part to love is a ruthless game. jealous reader finally makes her appearance as requested!
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You decided very quickly that however curious you were about adopting a dog, you never wanted Wanda to agree with that decision. Although the sun was already peaking past the horizon when Lucky came scratching at the guest room door,  effectively rousing not only you, but Natasha from sleep, it wasn’t even eight in the morning. It wasn’t often you woke up with the Russian still in bed beside you, typically being the last one to wake and the first to fall asleep, and now that you had her warm and soft beside you, you weren't even able to enjoy her clingy cuddles like you wanted. Lucky was persistent, his whines and whimpers thin but effectively audible despite the heavy door trying its best to block him out. Wanda’s voice echoed through the house in tandem with the pitiful whimpers, trying to beckon the pup back downstairs, but the retriever was adamant about wanting you awake. 
Natasha groaned beside you, her face shoved into the pit of your neck where the impeding sunlight was darkest. Her hair tickled your cheek as she wiggled further into you, soft breaths fanning across the expanse of your shoulder. You giggled softly at the sensation, twisting into her arms until you were chest to chest, then leaning in to press a kiss to her clothed skin right above where her beating heart laid. You sighed blissfully, thankful that Wanda has managed to distract Lucky, but knowing that despite the reclaimed silence, you’ll be unable to go back to sleep now that youre awake and focused on Natasha. 
“I love you.” You whispered against her chest, laughing when her lips puckered against the skin of your neck and kissed you sweetly albeit sleepily. She was always affectionate, always wanting to assure you know how loved you are, but you’ve discovered that when she’s tired theres no amount of physical contact that can satisfy her. As if determined to prove that statement, she tugs you closer into her chest, fingers loosely threading into the knotted ends of your hair.  “Do you need more lotion on your wrists?” You question softly, untangling your arm from between your chests so that you can trace the tips of your fingers along her cheekbones. 
As if she wasn’t sure about the question, Natasha rolled her wrists in circular motions, testing just how badly the irritated skin ached from the aftermath of being restrained. You scoffed amusedly, deciding that her answer wasn’t going to be trustworthy when she finally did respond. You pulled yourself away from her chest before she’d even returned her gentle grip to your hair and lower back, though you giggled when needy fingers poked and prodded at your ribs trying to get you to stay. 
“Come back.” She whined, rolling into the center of the bed, and although she was covered by blankets, you could make out the soft rising and falling of her chest as she turned onto her back and finally peeled her eyes upon to drink in the sight of you still messy from sleep. Your hair was frizzy, cheeks flush and adorned with indentations from the pillows prominent and deep against your skin. You slept like dead weight, but Wanda’s rustling always found a way to tousle strands of your hair that she inevitably got caught between. You looked like sheer beauty as sunlight dawned upon your features. “Duckling.” She pleaded, arms outstretched and pleading with you to step close enough to touch. 
You smiled fondly but remained persistent, already turning toward the door and leaving Natasha to lay amongst the ungodly amount of pillows and thin summer bedding as you searched for the lotion Wanda used last night. When you opened the door, you were met with the indicative sounds of breakfast being made down in the kitchen. The clattering of metal and plastic made you smile, still not accustomed to how a house could feel so lived in each and every day. It was a mystery what the Sokovian would be preparing as she clattered around in the kitchen accompanied only by Yelena’s dogs, but desperately you hoped that it was something sweet; sweeter than the fruit that she’d been forcing you and Natasha to eat everyday for the past three weeks. 
The bedroom was two doors down and directly across from Natasha’s office. Deciding that a detour wouldn’t hurt the already pouty woman, you broke away from your intended path and verged off into the office where paperwork and files sat meticulously stacked on the left side of her desk. The right side was dressed in personal items, namely a picture of the three of you from the Memorial Day barbeque, and little trinkets that you assumed came from Russia. You’d have to ask how frequently she visited her native country, noting that some of the figures on her desk looked shiny and new. You smiled softly when you noticed a ring sat beside her keyboard, knowing that it wasn’t hers, but Wanda’s. You wondered just how many small traces of them existed within the others personal spaces, but that would have to be a scavenger hunt for another day. 
You smiled softly when you pulled open her desk drawer, finding your now voided contract at the top of the pile she kept. You don’t think she’d ever part ways with it, telling you that it’s a reminder of how far she’s come since you met her last year, and you can’t disagree with her logic. The sticky notes she keeps are right beside it, all annoyingly mundane and lacking bright colors. Wanda’s the one with the plethora of color options, which had thrown you for a loop when you’d initially assumed Natasha was the fun one. Either way, you pulled a single piece from the pad, reaching for a pen that was laid across her other documents. You didn’t have the time to dwell on what you wanted to say, settling simply for the three words you loved the most and a deformed smiley face that would surely make her laugh. Natasha always did find amusement in your mindless doodles, something you found extremely endearing. You adhered it to the monitor of her desktop, assuring that none of the glue residue touched the actual screen because she’d surely lose it. When you were satisfied that it was in a place she wouldn’t miss, you slipped back into the hallway and carried on into the bedroom, eager to be back in her warmth for at least a handful of minutes before Wanda called you both down for breakfast. 
The bedding had been stripped from the bed, all that remained was naked pillows and the fluffy mattress that begged for your weight to sink into it. The collection of your clothes that had adorned the hardwood floor were all missing as well, and you assumed that in her need to find order, Wanda had thrown them in the washer as well. She really was horrible at letting a mess exist for longer then a handful of hours. With the sunlight bleeding into the room, adding warmth the wooden furniture and floors, all that remained from last nights scene was the bottle of lotion on the nightstand table, the other toys and instruments already cleaned and back in the combination locked briefcase. 
You freshened up in the bathroom, not wanting to linger in your sleepy state for any longer then you already had, and the water you splashed against your face felt exquisite after receiving so many licks and kisses from Fanny and Lucky yesterday. With your hair tied up into a ponytail and the rest of your routine completed in full, you left the bathroom behind you, eager to find Natasha once again. 
The Russian was in the same place that you’d left her in ten minutes ago, sprawled out on her back with wild red curls splayed angelically against the pillowcases in a fashion that was reminiscent of a halo. You grinned sweetly, climbing over her body until you could settle against her belly, not saving her the experience of your full weight plopping down on her in seconds. You giggled at her grunt, calloused hands holding onto your thighs as she peeled her eyes open and looked up at you with faux annoyance. 
“Wake up.” You more or less demanded, your bright smile significantly more electric than it had been when you’d first laid your eyes on her that morning. Natasha couldn’t resist smiling back, and her hands reached to rub at her cheeks as she forced herself awake. She and Wanda always resisted rubbing their eyes in the morning, claiming that it was damaging and not the best habit, but you couldn’t be swayed, and secretly, Natasha found it adorable when your closed fists dug into your eye sockets like a sleepy toddler as you stretched out the muscles in your body only to curl up into a tight ball again. “Wanda’s making breakfast.” You informed her gently, unscrewing the cap on the lotion and squeezing a generous amount onto your palms in the same fashion that you’d seen Wanda commit to. 
Unlike last night when she was adamant that all she needed was cuddles from her ‘two favorite girls’, Natasha didn’t fight against you when you reached for her wrist and held it tenderly in front of your chest. You inspected the irritated skin, pleased that although it was red and adored with the faintest traces of ligature marks, the skin wasn’t torn apart nor angry. You rubbed the lotion into her skin tenderly, not wanting to further irritate the area, and Natasha appreciated your efforts as she sighed in relief. You giggled, leaning forward to brush your lips against the tip of her nose before you repeated the process on her other wrist. 
“Can I bite you?” You questioned randomly, breaking the silence that had come to sit overtop of your warm bodies as you devoted your full attention to Natasha’s wrists. 
Amused, Natasha’s lips settled into her infamous smirk that always had you weak in the knees. The green within her eyes was sharp and calculated as she watched you play and twist at her fingers now that your initial task had been completed. “You’re going to bite me anyways.” Her voice was smooth as it reached your ears, not outright refusing your request of biting down on her fingers, but not entirely compliant with the idea. You smiled down at her eagerly, wanting to have her full permission before you sunk your teeth into her soft skin. “Once.” She agreed, nodding her head at your unasked question. She was never able to deny you when you looked so sweet and eager sat against her, and after all of your efforts to make her feel loved since coming down from the scene, she didn’t really want to say no anyway. She could handle your incessant need to bite her if it would make you happy, however her permission didn’t come without an ultimatum. “Then I’m sending you off to Wanda.” 
You laughed at her threat, but nodded anyways, bringing her fingers up to your lips. You kissed them sweetly, your lips soft and barely there as you just existed in this soft moment with her. Your delicacy didn’t last for much longer, and the second she had relaxed against the bed, your teeth sunk into her skin harshly; harsher then you’d ever even consider biting Wanda. You giggled at her yelp of shock, scrambling off her lap and out of the guest room before she could think about retaliating. 
You raced down the stairs, throwing caution to the wind as you forced yourself to forget about all the lectures Wanda had bestowed upon you about how dangerous to run down them. Natasha was hot on your heels, her footsteps light and calculated as she called for you to come back to her. The sounds of Wanda rummaging through cabinets became clearer with each step you took toward the kitchen, and when she was in sight, already showered and dressed for the day, you wasted not even a single second before you were throwing your arms around her torso and hiding your face in her chest just as she had spun around to find whatever the commotion was about. 
Lucky and Fanny barked with glee as you unintentially riled them up, their tails wagging as they made laps around the island, knocking into the chairs that sat on one side of the counter after each successful lap. Wanda gasped at your tight embrace, but one of her hands fall onto the small of your back without hesitance. 
“Save me.” You pleaded, looking up at her with wide eyes that held mischief and chaos. You didn’t spare Natasha a single glance when you heard her enter the kitchen, more than certain that she wouldn’t do anything with Wanda present. 
The Sokovian hummed thoughtfully, her eyes sparkling as she looked down at you with adoration clear in her sage stare. Her pink tinted lips quirked upward into an amused grin, scrambled eggs on the stove momentarily forgotten about despite how they sizzled and begged to be removed from the heat. “What did you get yourself into, moya utenok?” She grinned, tracing a gentle finger against the slope of your nose that felt ticklish before it was gone and her hand cradled the back of your head protectively. 
“Nothing!” You shook your head frantically, clinging closer to her chest when you felt Natasha come up behind you, her hands cold as they ran up the exposed skin of your thighs. There was disbelief written across Wanda’s expression, the sunlight bleeding in from the open window practically a spotlight as it highlighted each and every freckle that adorned her naked skin.
“The little devil bit me.” Natasha exclaimed though her voice was perfectly level as she held her hand up for Wanda to see, the sunlight falling into the soft craters your teeth left along her skin. You couldn’t help but giggle, looking up at Wanda with a bright expression on your face. 
“She said I could!” You explained mischievously, your eyes bright and enchanted as the organic light reflected across your face. Your entire disposition wasn’t dissimilar to the state of Lucky and Fanny who had begun to chase each other through the house, still hyper on your own excitement, though now they barrled into glass doors and walls each time they turned to bark at the other. “I asked nicely and she said I could, Mommy.” As your voice raised three octaves, so did your height as you pushed yourself up on your tippy-toes and left a sweet kiss on the corner of Wanda’s jaw, attempting to pull her beneath your trap as Natasha gasped at the scene. 
“Do not play the Mommy card you little minx!” You shrieked in laughter when Natasha grew tired of caressing your thighs, her cold hands taking you by the waist and pulling you back into her chest, though your eyes still lingered on Wanda who merely shook her head in amusement at the sight. You attempted to squirm away from Natasha’s fingers that dug into your ribs, but her grip was persistent around your waist, not allowing you freedom. 
Your eyes closed against your will, your head falling backward as laughter filled the kitchen alongside the barks and yelps of the puppies who didn’t understand what was going on, but wanted to be a part of the fun anyways. Fanny’s tail drummed against your shin as she circled your feet, but you had no time to show any attention to the retriever as Natasha blew a raspberry against your neck. Your laughter ended abruptly when in that same spot, her teeth sunk into your skin. A choked moan slipped past your lips as her tongue shot out to ease the spark of pain before you could even recongize its presence. Your fighting stilled, body falling slack against her chest as she trailed kisses up your neck before biting again, this time just below your ear. A shuddered whine fell off your lips as you craned your neck to the side, eager for her to do it again. The position allowed sunlight to kiss against your features, warm and welcoming as you basked beneath it. 
Natasha’s arms stayed tightly around your waist, but her teeth never left another impression amongst the smooth expanse of your neck. You whined softly when you realized she had no intentions of continuing, a pout taking over your lips as you peeled your eyes open and looked up at her pleadingly. 
Natasha leaned down to kiss the tip of your nose, but her unbroken stare as dangerous and calculated as she maintained eyecontact, her hand cupping your chin to assure you didn’t look away before she was willing to let this moment fall away into just another memory.  “Don’t forget who you belong to, malen’kaya.” 
You pouted deeper, wriggling out of her arms at the first instance that she allowed, instead seeking out Wanda who was thoroughly amused at the stove, an apron half tied around her waist and dusted with what you could only assume was powder from the pancake mix she’d thrown together. The Sokovian didn’t hesitate to wrap you up in a one-armed bear hug, keeping you flush to her chest as she flipped a pancake with a matte black spatula. Even their utensils matched the aesthetic of the kitchen, sometimes it felt like they had everything so meticulously planned out that not even an apocalypse could throw them off. You nuzzled your face into her neck, inhaling that fresh scent of grapefruit that lingers on the collar of her t-shirt, eyelashes tickling her skin as you let your eyes flutter closed. “You’re wife’s being mean.” You sulked against her, your voice muffled and thin as you listened to her heart beat evenly in your ear. 
You yelped in shock when a warning tap langed against your ass, entirely unexpected and harsh within your soft little moment. Your head shot up from Wanda’s neck, searching for Natasha who looked down at you with a challenging gaze. “Do you want to try that again, little one?” She questioned, arms crossed over her chest as she stood beneath the unfiltered sunlight that allowed the green in her eyes to shimmer like a million stars. Your head shook feverishly, fingers curling into Wanda’s shirt as you held her tighter, your lips turning downward into a pout as your body finally caught up with what had happened and the ache in your ass settled over your mind. One spank always hurt more then multiple, you’d never be able to understand why. “No, who?” 
You shrank into Wanda, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth as you fought between looking at Natasha and hiding away in the woman who kept a comforting hand against the small of your back, her thumb rubbing soft circles over the thin shirt adorning your otherwise naked body. When the words finally fell off your lips, they were no louder then a whisper. “No Daddy.” 
“That’s what I thought.” She muttered, nodding her head curtly before she turned toward the refrigerator and sought out the pitcher of fresh juice that Wanda routinely assured was fully stocked at the start of each new week. This week, she’d gone with grape juice from the local farmers market, and it was particularly tart when you were least expecting it. You whined softly, digging your face into the lawyers neck, fingers still keeping a tight grip on her shirt. 
Wanda, feeling no sympathy for you, merely patted your back encouragingly. “You shouldn't have started a game you didn’t want to play, dorogaya.” You whined, shaking your head against her neck. Wanda wasn’t in the mood to play into your game, and her hand on your back trailed across your spine until it sat firmly against your hip, her ring clad fingers squeezing warningly. “Don’t get fussy with me. You’re the one who bit your Daddy. What did I say about biting?” 
You pouted, just wanting one of them to take pity on you, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards for you this morning. Lifting your head from Wanda’s neck, you met her eye and meekly muttered, “That you’d bite me back.” 
Smiling softly, Wanda kissed the top of your head, her lips lingering for a second longer than necessary, but you’d never complain, reveling in the soft touch. “Exactly. Now go help Daddy set the table. I was thinking we can take the dogs to the park today. Yelena left their leashes and I’m sure Natasha had a couple balls laying around here somewhere.” 
You’d never even considered taking the dogs out for a play, but as the suggestion rolled off of Wanda’s lips you nodded eagerly, tightening your grip on her shirt as you practically bounced on your toes and forced your chests closer together, practically one body beneath the radiant glow of summer sunlight. You’d miss it when fall came around, and the soft glow adorning your girlfriends skin dissipated into nothingness. “Can we go to the park with the big fields? Lucky will love that!” 
Wanda smiled at your excitement, glad to see a smile gracing your features again. “If you get your little ass in the dining room and help Natty, I don’t see why not.” She laughed, laying another little kiss on your forehead before you had the chance to untangle yourself from her completely and dart off in the direction that Natasha had trailed off in. 
“Deal!” You giggled in excitement, your sockless feet pounding against the hardwood floors as you made a break for the dining room, unintentionally colliding with Natasha who had only just turned around to grab the needed silverware for your breakfast of pancakes and eggs. You didn’t find it necessary to step away form the lawyers chest, standing right before her with anticipation clear on your smiley face. Your arms extended at your sides, palms raised toward the ceiling as you bellowed, “Natty, we’re going to the park!” 
“I heard, detka.” Natasha laughed at your excitement, gently taking your arms into her hands and holding them closely to her chest. Her lips pressed soft kisses against your wrists. “I also heard that you needed to help me with the table.” 
“Yeah.” The smile on your lips didn’t leave fully, but it dimmed as you pulled away and began the search for Wanda’a favorite cutlery, because leave it to the lawyers to have multiple sets all intended for different events and holidays. “Do you think Fanny will run away if we let her off the leash?” 
“She won’t run away.” Natasha laughed, dragging her fingers against the small of your back as she joined you beside the long dresser filled with different assortments of serving plates and utensils. She pointed toward the intended set, and you collected three forks and knives with a hum, unable to contain your excitement. 
-
The beating sun fell harshly against your sunscreen slathered skin, provoking sensations of warmth and comfort as you and Natasha chased after the softball she’d dug out of the garage. Lucky had decided that your game of fetch was no longer worth his attention, and had retreated back to Wanda’s side after you’d thrown the ball far off into the field for the umpteenth time. Your laughter bellowed through the park as Natasha bumped her hip against yours, sending you sidewalks on your walk to retrieve it. 
Although the grass was luscious and green, concealing many lost toys and objects, the lime colored ball stuck out like a sore thumb just inches ahead of you. The hours had rolled by quickly, afternoon soaking up the last of its stretches as nightfall became an approaching promise that no amount of pleading could stall. You’d spent the last four hours beneath the rays of delicate light, enjoying the practically abandoned park for what it was. Birds chirped at the very tops of tall trees, squirrels carried acorns across the sidewalk and scurried up the bench only to drop them and begin the process over again, only occasionally did another dog owner come trailing through and stopped for friendly conversation, but Wanda always responded eagerly. You hadn’t had a day this simple in weeks, spending most of your time either out beside the pool or trailing after your girlfriends as they tagged each other in to be CEO for the day. It felt utterly domestic to be beside them surrounded only by nature and traffic sounds, far away from paperwork and the house that had begun to feel confining. You soaked every second up eagerly, knowing it would end far too soon. 
You reached for the ball when you were close enough, batting away Natasha’s hands as she fought to retrieve it first. The Russian laughed loudly when you attempted to shove her body out of the way, yet despite all of your strength being put behind the shove, she remained perfectly in place. You huffed, but quickly your lips curled into a grin when the ball was safely between your fingers. Natasha merely rolled her eyes because you both knew that she had let you win despite her dirty tricks. You spun around to show Wanda, your smile wide with pride, but your eyes didn’t find the Sokovian alone beside the bench where the bag of treats and water was left. Instead, you found her in deep conversation with a woman she looked all too comfortable beside. 
You weren’t a jealous person, you could let a lot fall off your shoulders, but there was something about the way she was talking with the stranger that made your belly sick with envy. The green eyes you’d fallen in love with were creased around the edges, bright and full of radiant light as she continued on with the conversation that had her laughing. Her head was inclined to the side in that same dominating manner that she’d bestowed upon you mere hours ago, and although one of her hands scratched at Fanny’s coat, the other reached out to brush against the stranger's forearm. She wasn’t Wanda as she stood beneath the dark shadows branches on the tallest tree in the park projected, she was Mommy. Your smile fell quickly, the ball no longer anything interesting. 
Natasha’s hand falling onto the small of your back startled you enough for the ball to fall back into the blades of grass, slipping through your fingers like it wasn’t really there at all. You watched it slip into the tall blades, nearly concealed entirely, and you made no attempt to retrieve it as you turned your frown in her direction, the falling sun still bright enough to force you to squint as the light hit your eyes. The Russian laughed softly, her thumb rubbing softly against your clothed skin. “Got a problem, moya lyubov’?” There was a mischievous gleam in her equally squinted eyes, and you took the time to notice that surrounded by the clear blue skies and open fields, the color around her pupils was electric and undeniably green.
“Mine.” You huffed out, wanting to wriggle your body if only to make a point that you were unhappy with the entire arrangement happening before you. Your slitted eyes trailed over to Wanda once more, but the Sokovian was still oblivious to your heavy stare.
“Yeah, she’s yours, dorogaya. But, she’s also friends with Daisy.” Natasha smiled understandingly, her hand on the small of your back guiding you closer into her side. She wraps you up entirely, her cheek falling onto the top of your head as the both of you steady your glances on Wanda, and apparently Daisy. You decide quickly that you don’t like the latter. “She’s still yours, nothing is going to change that.” 
“I wanna go home.” You pout, aware that you’re being petulant, but not willing to change your mind as you detangle yourself from her arms and collect the softball without so much as a nod of acceptance from Natasha. 
It takes seventeen steps exactly to end up directly beside where Wanda’s standing with Daisy, you count each and every one as your feet pound against innocent blades of summer fresh grass. You’ll miss the softness that squishes beneath your feet when winter rolls around and everything becomes muted and harsh, but for now, you’re content to overlook the beauty of this moment in favor of getting out as quickly as you can. 
“Hey, utenok.” Wanda smiles sweetly down at you, her hand brushing against your forearm as she attempts to draw you into her side. You shrug off her touch, lips settled into a scowl as you make your way toward the bag packed with everything you could possibly need for not only the dogs, but for yourselves. You’ve been snacking all day, the tupperware of strawberries and pineapple nearly empty as you and Natasha had shoved your mouths full of the fruit an hour into your park visit. 
“We’re going home.” You say curtly, already holding onto the two solid purple leashes that would soon be attached to the solid black collars adorning the puppies necks. Wanda’s eyebrows raise not only in question, but in challenge, your dynamic having lingered in the air since that morning, but you weren’t willing to submit anymore. 
“Oh, are we?” She hums, both her and Daisy turning to watch you as you beckon Fanny and Lucky to your sides, fingers already clamping around their collars and clipping the leashes to them. You're as gentle as you can be, but Fanny’s wriggling around makes it harder to attach. You sigh in frustration, getting down on your knees to softly coax the retriever into momentary stillness. “That’s my cue Daisy.” Wanda decides to give into your decision, if only to uncover the reason behind your attitude if nothing else. You merely huff when Daisy says goodbye to not only Wanda, but you, her black painted fingernails wiggling softly beneath the setting sun before she’s back to jogging down the path, her ponytail swinging with every step she takes. 
“Nat!” You call for the Russian, watching her frolic through the field like you hadn’t told her you wanted to leave. The softball is between her fingers, and every couple of minutes she throws it back up into the air and lets it crash against her palm. Her sharp eyes find you smugly, but you’re in no mood to let her win. “Let’s go!” 
“I don’t like this little attitude, detka.” Wanda warns evenly, her eyes slitted into dangerous daggers as she peers down at you dominatingly. You merely huff at her stance, only able to picture her standing in such a way in front of Daisy. When you don’t bend like you typically do, she cocks her head to the side, green eyes begging to understand what’s happened in the last ten minutes. “What’s the problem, you were having such a good time.” 
Unable to help the eyeroll that follows her question, you don’t even bother looking up at her as you begin to set your pace for the entrance of the park, both leashes tightly between your fingers. “What does it matter to you.” You mutter, just barely able to step around her before her hand is grabbing onto your wrist and keeping you still. 
Wanda pulled you back to her chest, assuring that you wouldn’t move before she let her words slip against the softest area of your neck, chills falling down your spine as her breath tickled your sensitive skin. Her words were dangerous, calculated even, but all you could picture was her hand on Daisy’s arm when she should’ve been paying attention to you. “I would think about who you’re talking to like that, detka.” She warned, but you merely huffed and tugged your arm free. 
“Leave me alone.” You snapped, fingers curling possessively around the two leashes in hand. Lucky and Fanny, who had been more than thrilled to go on a walk, pulled at their leads with eager excitement, their golden tails wagging in tandem with the other. You didn’t fight against them, letting them lead you in the direction of the entrance, not even craning your head to assure that Wanda and Natasha were following. 
-
Much to Wanda’s annoyance, your attitude seemed to be around for the long haul. Dinner was an awkward affair, filled only with the sounds of silverware clanking against plates and the occasional comment from Wanda who had given you several chances to amend your little issue. You weren’t receptive to any of it, though each attempt dampened your panties that were now stuck uncomfortably to your throbbing core. Her hand had fallen firmly against your thigh halfway through dinner, and she spared you no ounce of pain as she squeezed the sensitive flesh each time you had the courage to roll your eyes at her or even worse, Natasha. The Russian had been merely collateral damage, but every time she chimed in at Wanda’s defense, you found yourself growing more annoyed, but worse than that, sexually frustrated. Despite the scene last night, neither of them had touched you, and with Wanda’s hand lingering so close to where you needed her, that fact had turned you into putty quickly. 
Yelena had come to pick the dogs up just after eight, only sticking around for long enough to inform Natasha of the grueling activities she’d been forced to oversee for her company’s annual donation fair. You’d never understand what it was that Yelena did exactly, but each time she talked about the job that kept her busy and moving, it was always with exuberant pride and happiness. You were happy for her little life that she adored, but you were even happier when she left and you could throw yourself at Natasha with a bruising and desperate kiss. 
Your arms looped around her neck, chests flush together as you swiped your tongue across her bottom lip, hardly caring that you were making out with the highest profile lawyer in the world right beside the open window. Anyone who was unfortunate enough to pass by could see how desperately your fingers curled into the curls at the nape of her neck, your hips having a mind of their own as you attempted to push your bodies into one. Natasha was more than receptive to your embrace, but the second you thought you’d won the fight for dominance, she backed you up against the wall, your wandering hands pinned above your head. 
“You’re not mine to have tonight, d'yavolenok.” Her hot and heavy breaths fall across your lips as she settles her forehead against yours, effectively ending whatever you had anticipated to come from the impromptu kiss. You whined, hips arching off the wall and pushing into hers, desperate to change her mind, but there was no winning tonight. The only way you were getting even an ounce of pleasure was through Wanda, and the Sokovian sat unamused on the couch, not even attempting to join in on the game you’d initiated. 
“I want you, Daddy!” You whined, pouty eyes searching for hers, but Natasha had already made up her mind, and as quickly as her hands had pinned your wrists, the touch was falling away and she was walking back toward the couch where her body sank in without protest. Wanda didn’t make any move to embrace the Russian, but it didn’t seem like Natasha had expected her to, because she curled into the arm of the couch and settled her attention on the television, entirely uninterested in your high pitched whines and stompy feet.  
“If you want something, I suggest you end your little tantrum and bring your ass over here, dorogaya. I will not tell you again to cut it out.” Wanda’s voice is stern and cold, but your feet find their way closer to her either way. You don’t ask before you settle into her lap, a pout on your lips as you press your face into her neck and hold onto her tightly. She doesn’t push you away like you’d anticipated, but you should’ve known by now that Wanda would never push you away, still the fear lingers in your mind anytime you push against her authority. Instead of handling you harshly like you’d thought would happen, her hand comes up to cradle the back of your head tenderly while her other hand settles on the small of your back beneath the t-shirt adorning your torso. Her skin is warm, not entirely cold but not exceedingly hot either. She feels perfect against you, but there's more that you want, and she’s making no indication that she’s going to give it to you. “Do you want to tell me what’s got you so fussy?” 
When you don’t answer, Wanda’s fingers tangle into your hair and pull your face away from her neck sharply. A guttural moan falls off the tip of your tongue as your head cranes backward and your eyes flutter closed. Your hips, still with a mind of their own, twitch against the thigh you’ve found a seat on, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your lower belly that rages with a fire demanding to be extinguished. “I made myself very clear, utenok. I’ve been very lenient with this attitude of yours, do not be so foolish as to think I won’t have you over my lap in the next thirty seconds.” 
You whined at her words, hips still grinding against her thigh. You’d never found yourself in this position before, never desperate enough to search for release against her thigh adorned with only freckles and the lingering presence of sunscreen, but there’s not a single coherent thought in your brain that tells you to stop and maintain the little dignity you have left. Your shorts are thin, your panties even thinner as they become soaked through entirely, and each pass of your hips against her skin feels beyond pleasurable. “M-Mine.” You just barely get the words past your lips before Wanda’s pulling at your hair again, provoking a shuddered whine that sounds entirely too high-pitched to have fallen from your lips. 
Wanda’s silent for a moment, but when she speaks again, your cheeks flush pink and you whine in embarrassment. Hearing her verbally address what’s been bothering you makes it seem so pathetic. “Is this little attitude of yours about Daisy?” She questions, the hand in your hair slipping away to instead hold tightly to your chin, forcing your eyes to meet hers beneath the lamplight drowning the living room. 
“Mine.” Your whimper is soft, entirely breathy as you search her eyes, pleading with her to understand. Wanda merely hums, a soft smile gracing her lips that had been pressed into a thin unimpressed line before she’s drawing you closer and slotting her lips against yours in a passionate embrace. You groan into her mouth when her tongue, hot and light, swipes across your bottom lip. You don’t fight her for dominance, instead allowing your lips to fall slack and accept the presence of her in your mouth. She searches every part of you with passion, her hands falling down to your hips at some point, dragging you against her thigh with intent, helping you find a steady rhythm whilst simultaneously distracting you with a bruising and head swimming kiss. 
You only pull away when you can’t handle both sensations of pleasure at once, your head swimming in fuzzy thoughts as your hips begin to stutter desperately against her thigh. Your shorts are equally as drenched as your panties, and you’re sure that with each forced drag of your hips she can feel the wetness seeping into her skin, hot and sticky with desire. You’re so painfully close, but the stimulation isn’t enough. “M-More.” You pant, head thrown back as your eyes flutter closed, your fingers tangling into her hand that’s hanging loosely down her shoulders. 
Wanda merely laughs at your desperation, the sound cruel and entirely condescending as it pairs with your desperate whines and moans. “Oh, honey. Did you really think I was going to give it to you easily? My poor little duckling, no. Either you cum on my thigh, or you don’t cum at all. Only good girls get what they want.” She taunts, dragging her teeth against the expanse of your neck, humming in contentment when you release a shaky sigh, your fingers grabbing at her desperately. 
“I-I can’t!” You cry out weakly, your hips losing their rhythm as you try to chase the pleasure that's ebbing away with each failed thrust. Her hands have stopped guiding you, sitting heavy on your thighs that frame her waist. 
“My dumb little baby needs Mommy’s help with everything, huh?” The Sokovian ridicules, but her hands find a home on your hips either way, beginning to guide your pace again. She’s ruthless, quick with her motions and entirely controlling, but it gets you back at the top of that mountain of bliss in seconds, and your whines of frustrations become moans of desperation. You’re so close, so painfully close that you can taste the wisps of pleasure that dance across your vision, but it’s still not enough. Wanda’s enjoying herself entirely, each rock of your hips forcing your body to roll against her own dripping core, and the sounds of Natasha’s moans fill your ears albiet vaguely, your own pleasure drowning out the sounds of hers. Still, you don’t even have to look at the Russian to know that her hand has disappeared beneath her shorts and her fingers are glistening with her own arousal. “Come on, detka. Cum for Mommy, be a good girl.” 
Your moans become frantic when Wanda flexes her thigh beneath your weight, giving you just the right addition of something more. Thatall it takes for you to fall off the edge and cum on her thigh, your panties absolutely saturated in pleasure when you finally stutter to a stop against her chest. The Sokovian’s moans are broken and soft as her head tips backward and she meets the same fate as you. You sink against her chest, pushing closer into her as you whimper in sensitivity, trying to wiggle away from her thigh and settle fully in her lap. 
“Mine.” You whisper against her skin, inhaling the traces of grapefruit that have dissipated throughout the day, but if you focus on her scent hard enough, the faintest tinge of fruit still linger around the collar of her shirt. Your hand searches for hers, and she allows you to grab onto it easily, guiding up to your lips as your eyes flutter close and you embrace the darkness that comes with it. Her thumb is heavy against your tongue as you bite at it softly. 
“All yours, detka. Just yours.” Wanda promises, her lips ghosting across the top of your head when she adjusts the position she’s in so that she can lean against Natasha’s chest, assuring that you're safe against her chest as her own eyes flutter closed. “Nothing is going to change that.” 
The hand that isn’t held captive dips beneath your shirt again, and her nails scratch soft lines across your spine as you melt further into her, eyes only peeling open when you become desperate to hear the same reassurances from Natasha. “Mine.” Your words vibrate against Wanda’s skin, and the lawyer smiles fondly down at you.  “You’re mine, sweetheart.” Natasha’s hand falls gently onto your cheek, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone as she holds you tenderly. “You’re ours.”
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wandasaura · 2 months
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BURNING BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN
summary — the annual maximoff memorial day barbecue has finally come, but so has a softer side of your dominants
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, mentions of dom/sub dynamics, this is 90% fluff, shower sex, quickie, fingering, oral, nipple stimulation, hickies, its relatively tame in comparison to what lives in this au, domestic fluff, mentions of pietro being dead as fuck, men/minors dni
authors note — remember when i said i was taking a little break? yeah i lied and im not sorry about it!
you are in love universe
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff
The warmth and promise of sunshine had quickly taken hold of Westview, days of long darkness and snow storms came to be just a memory, thawed out by butterflies and the occasional white dove that pecked at the birdfeeder on the back porch of the Maximoff residence. You couldn’t understand how the sky was so much brighter in warmer weather, but as you sat beside Natasha on the cusp of solid Earth, you thought it looked bluer than usual. The crashing waves before you licked at your feet and dampened the shorts you wore when the tide dared to try and swallow you whole, but like changing seasons, it never stayed quick. 
Sunrise had barely hit its peak and already the traces of pink and orange were just another mental memory for the big scrapbook of moments you never wanted to forget. The sand was coarse beneath the fingers that hours earlier had been dug into soft blankets, but refreshing and welcomed despite how small granules crept beneath your nails when you picked it up the wrong way. Natasha hummed an old lullaby beneath her breath, eyes closed and face tilted toward the sun like a lonely flower that had managed to grow in an abandoned field. You knew much about the woman's past, but not enough to understand her connection to the star that brought you light each new day. Now wasn’t the time to ask, but you knew that eventually you’d come to know the reason for her methods of relief in hard times. 
The first weekend of break had come on quick, and the barbeque that Wanda and Natasha had frantically tried to tidy the house for before your attitude interrupted them was merely hours away. Despite the plans and the people coming over, time had been taken out of the day to devote just to you. In this moment, sitting on the edge of solid ground beneath rays of sun that attempted to burn you, you couldn’t even explain how truly loved you felt. 
The beach was empty, void of the presence of others and quiet for your enjoyment, save for the seagulls who squawked over scraps and the waves that crashed against man made piers and naturally jagged rocks. Your toes were coated in sand, your fingers in the same state, but you didn’t care to think about the messy things at that moment, you only wanted to focus on the good. The good was Natasha’s arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close like a stray wave might succeed in carrying you out to sea. The good was Wanda’s perfume that lingered around the collar of your stolen shirt like the scent was woven into the cotton. The good was being here, being free and alive. The good was knowing Natasha. The good was having Wanda. The good was knowing love and having love.  
You laid your head down on the woman’s shoulder, noting how her hair seemed to glow beneath the sunlight. In this moment, it wasn’t auburn with scuffs of brown thrown in at the roots, it was orange like fire made by those long before lights and lanterns existed. She was ethereal, sat out beneath the early daylight, bearing her freckles for the sky to adore. You’d attempted to count them earlier, your gaze stuck on her naked face with blemishes and beauty marks sporadically thrown into the mix, but somewhere after thirty they all blended together and you settled for simply looking at them, admiring how you were somehow allowed to see them. 
You were happier in spring, happiest in summer, but recently, you have found those seasons in people. Wanda was like the early days of May, where weather was warm but also cold, and sunlight was soft but somehow harsh. Natasha was like summer, late July if you thought about a specific moment. Like the air she was sweet, but like the people she was calm, and like the night she was chaos wrapped up in laughter and loved company. They weren’t perfect, you would never call them such, but they were as close to it as people could get. 
A soft smile graced your features, and though you squinted to lessen the sting of sunlight, Natasha thought you looked stunning. When her eyes reopened and her head tilted downward to look at you, there was only affection smeared across her face. Her eyes that were so meticulously different shades of green had a spark within them that could only speak of the happiness she felt. How words had existed for so long and still there wasn’t one to describe the intense feelings that rushed through the both of you, you didn’t know, but you were content enough to rest against her with the knowledge that even if you couldn’t say it, you were both feeling it. 
“We’ve gotta head back soon.” Your beautiful moment was ripped into tiny pieces of paper that got caught in the breeze before they made it into the recycling can, and the smile that had turned your lips upward quickly worked in the opposite direction. You shook your head, digging your heels into the sand like the simple action might change her mind and make her forget about the barbeque that was starting at noon. “Not now. I need a couple more minutes of this.” 
You giggled softly when she nuzzled into your head, her wild curls tickling your nose because she hadn’t bothered to straighten them yesterday. You reached up, taking one of her curls between your fingers and pulling it taught, letting go to watch it bounce back into place and laid against her forehead with frizzy edges. You sighed in content, running your fingers through her wild hair that couldn’t be tamed in this state. “I like your natural hair.” 
Natasha crinkled her nose at your genuine admission. She puckered her lips and let them rest against your finger that was still in front of her face as you softly brushed strands of hair away from her eyes. “My natural hair is blonde.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You rolled your eyes fondly, snuggling even further into her side despite how hot you felt beneath the sun. No matter the weather you wanted to be pressed up into her, and it was clear that she wanted the same, her arm around your waist squeezed you tight, almost daring you to try and pull away prematurely. “When you met Wanda did she have red hair?” 
“No, the red is pretty new. It was brown, a little bit longer than she keeps it now. She was really leaning into the whole emo phase. We could never go out together if she didn’t have red lipstick and eyeliner, she always said it completed her look.” Natasha smiled fondly at the memories that came to mind when she thought about the beginning stages of their relationship, and you felt your own heart warm in your chest as you thought about the young couple they had been. You wondered what kind of odds had been stacked against them, but you didn’t question it, happy to just live in this happy moment. 
You let your hand fall back into the sand, rubbing circles that slowly became hearts into the malleable surface. The beach would always be one of your favorite places, but sitting beside Natasha made it better, sweeter. “How long have you been together now?” 
“Fourteen years.” Natasha laughed, her own hand reaching out to collect handfuls of sand that she let run between her fingers until only a few granules were left in her palm, and then you watched her repeat the process over again. “Sometimes it feels like it was only a couple of weeks ago, and other times it feels like I’ve never lived without her.” 
“I never hated her.” You admitted, though you had the slightest inkling that Natasha already knew that. She just had a way of knowing things before you did. There was no possible way anyone could hate Wanda Maximoff, and if you somehow stumbled upon the only person in the world who did, you didn’t doubt they’d meet a quick and painful demise. 
“I know, moya kroshka.” Natasha laughs softly, so softly the sounds of the waves almost drown her out completely, but you still heard her. You’d always hear her. “It’s coming up on a full year since we started this whole thing, have any ideas about what you want to do?” 
You shrugged your shoulders, reaching for Natasha’s hand when she lost interest in the sand. She’d taken her rings off last night and with the early wake-up call hadn’t put them back on. The slightest tan kissed her features around where they usually sat, and gently you brushed the pads of your fingers against the pale skin. “I just want to spend it with you both.” 
“We can definitely make that happen.” Natasha hummed softly, laying a gentle kiss on the top of your head where sunlight had kissed your hair. Your roots were warm, hot against her lips, but Natasha didn’t flinch away. You knew this moment was coming to an end, but you could appreciate it for the few seconds longer that it lasted. “Wanda probably has breakfast ready, milaya. We’ve gotta start heading back now.” 
“Can we come back?” You questioned softly, not wanting to speak too loud as if it could ruin the quiet atmosphere around you. As you stood, dusting sand off the back of your legs, you winced at the ache in your back when you finally found your feet and steadied yourself on them. Natasha did the same, a quiet groan slipping past her lips when she reached down to collect your abandoned sets of flip flops. With one hand occupied, she reached the other out to you.  
“We’ll find a day.” She promised with a nod of affirmation. Your hand fits easily in the palm of hers, your fingers curl around her scarred knuckles while hers lay flat against your unbroken ones. Together you’re a perfect balance. Delicate definitely, but not entirely harmless. 
Westview sits on the edge of New Jersey, the air tinged with the permanent lingrance of salt and sand. The farther you walk, the less prominent it becomes, but if you know what you’re looking for, the scent of the shore still remains. Houses closest to the water are painted soft colors that linger in the summer sunrises, vacation homes that are only occupied for a handful of months throughout the year, but the deeper you walk the more mundane it becomes. The town is a muted palette of browns and beiges, fences of white and cars of greyscale. It’s perfectly coherent, acceptably mature, but the Maximoff residence remains the outlier. In the blandness of tans and creams, the two-story house is a soft green color with vibrant red shutters. The cars are normal, though elaborate. Unlike the Hondas and Toyotas that occupy driveways and road space, Natasha’s sleek Corvette Stingray sits beside Wanda’s Audi R8 in the driveway, the only flex of their wealth that’s apparent. You like it though, like how they’re so different from everyone else. 
You make sure to kick the sand still clinging to your heels off before you step into the house, and immediately you’re met with the aroma of sweet sugar and maple. Natasha hums at the change of scent, leaving behind the traces of salt that had tickled her nose the entire walk back to the house in favor of discovering what Wanda had prepared for breakfast. She drags her hand across your back as she passes you, seeking out the presence of her wife. 
You're slower to follow, taking your time to meticulously stack your flip flops with the rest of the shoes in the entryway. They don’t match the aesthetic of Valentino loafers and Prada heels, but you smile at the sight anyways. Your favorite pair of white converse sit beside the shoes Wanda wears into the office every work day, and your balled up pink socks are tucked into Natasha’s running shoes for some reason, but the little traces of your place here makes you feel at home. You’re not so different from the shore that lingers through Westview in the winter, but unlike the water that’s abandoned when snow falls, they’ll never forget about you when the seasons inevitably change. 
“Where did you leave the stray?” You just barely catch the end of whatever conversation has led to that question when you finally appear in the kitchen. The sunlight is golden now, no longer soft with pink and orange, but it falls over Wanda like the perfect blanket anyways. She’s wrapped up in Natasha’s arms, pinned to the stovetop where bacon rests in a hot pan. The only indication that this moment is less than perfect is the hot grease that pops and splatters every other second when Wanda neglects it for too long. 
“You know, you should really be nice to me before I start biting your ankles like a real stray.” You hum, your voice carrying through the kitchen like it’s always belonged there, though it’s not a response derived from annoyance like it would have been only weeks ago. Rather, your words are layered with fond exasperation that Wanda finds herself laughing at. 
Natasha kisses the lawyer's shoulder, squeezes her waist tightly, whispers something in Russian that’s not entirely audible from how far away you stand, before she pulls away entirely and walks toward the refrigerator. You pout when she pulls out the near empty pitcher of orange juice, setting it down on the island to be poured into glasses when breakfast is ready. It seems you could’ve spent a few more minutes beneath the sun, but you don’t complain. This is just as nice, just different. 
“That’s my job.” You sulk, letting your naked feet slap against the hardwood floors as you approach with sadness written across your expression. “Wanda, your wife took my job.” 
Natasha only narrows her eyes at you, the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips that she doesn’t even attempt to school. “It was my job first.” 
“Well it’s my job now!” You stuck your tongue out at her, sulking your way over to Wanda who lets you wrap your body around hers like a baby koala. With your front pressed up against hers, you have to crane your head backward to catch a glimpse of her face, but you're pleased to know she’s already looking down at you. You pout your lips up at her, grinning in victory when she kisses your frown away with a sigh of faux exasperation. “Can I have a new job?” 
Wanda laughs at your question, her fingers sliding beneath the waistband of your shorts to sit on the skin of your ass that’s still marked from days prior. You sighed in relief at the contact, leaning heavily into her chest when she rubs away the lingering ache that truthfully doesn’t bother you much anymore. It doesn’t last long, there’s still much to be done before noon rolls around, but you soak up every ounce of domesticity this morning has offered. “Sit on the counter and look pretty for me while I finish up with the bacon.” 
“Aye aye, Captain.” You giggle after saluting her, wiggling out of her arms and sliding your way up onto the countertop that’s practically become your designated spot since she stopped reprimanding you about sitting up here. Natasha crosses the little space between the edge of the island to where you’re perched watching Wanda cook, and you hum in pleasure when she leans forward to connect your lips. 
Your hands wrap around her shoulders and fingers tangle into the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. You smile into the kiss, beyond content with the little bubble that’s existed around you since being roused from sleep at five in the morning. A shriek of surprised laughter fills the kitchen when Natasha pulls away from your lips and buries her face in the crock of your neck, a raspberry tickling the sensitive skin as she blows against it. You squirm away from the sensation, but your arms still keep her locked in place. 
“Hi, Natty.” You giggle, tugging gently at the loose curls that your fingers are twisted between. She smiles at your happiness, pecking your lips a handful of times before she pulls away and whispers back the same greeting. “You smell like the beach.” You point out, giggling at Natasha’s extravagant eye roll. 
“You both smell like the beach and will be taking a shower after breakfast.” Wanda chimed into the conversation, tapping your thigh in warning as she opened the cabinet just beside your head. It had become routine at this point for her to simply work around you, so the clattering of plates beside your ear didn’t bother you much. 
When she turned around to grab the serving plate of belgian waffles on the island, your hand shot out to slap her ass, all thoughts of controlling your limbs forgotten. But really, who could blame you when she was wearing the shortest cotton shorts that had ever been sold in stores? Natasha had to bury her face in your neck to muffle her laughter, and you could feel her wide grin against your skin as you smirked innocently back at Wanda who set a firm glare in your direction. 
“Behave yourself.” She warned half-heartedly, absolutely no bite to her warning as you’d all just accepted the natural occurrence of the day, your roles as dominant and submissive forgotten about. You liked this exchange, not because you felt any less their equal when they bossed you around and set expectations upon your shoulders, but because it was the faintest glimpse at what life could be if they weren’t married and you were really their girlfriend. “Don’t even think about it, Natalia.” Wanda warned, already knowing Natasha was about to do the same thing you had been bold enough to accomplish. 
The redhead merely smirked and shrugged her shoulders, feigning innocence as she pulled away from your embrace and brought the drink glasses and pitcher into the dining room. You hopped off the counter the same as you always do, mimicking Natasha’s shrug when Wanda winced at the action. You grabbed the platter of bacon from her hands and followed after the lawyer who had already exited, eager to see where the day ended up, surrounded by the Maximoff’s closest friends and family members. 
-
The shower water was hot enough to create a thick fog on the glass doors and surrounding mirrors in the en-suite master bathroom, but still it felt cold as you joined Natasha beneath the heavy and unrelenting spray. You shivered despite the heat, reaching for the handle and turning it up even hotter, ignoring the Russian’s protests that her skin was actively melting off her bones. You liked hot showers, but you hated hot baths, and somehow you had yet to find a happy medium that worked for the both of you. Typically you’d compromise and switch off between who melted and who froze, and although it was admittedly your turn to freeze, today was not a day where you were willing to sacrifice feeling in your appendages.  
You silenced her whines with a desperate kiss, not even attempting to hide your need for her as you backed her up against the cold tile walls and pinned her hands to her sides. Your tongue was unrelenting as it licked and sucked at hers, tasting the minty toothpaste that she had rinsed from her mouth only minutes before you’d sought out her presence. When your teeth bit down on her tongue, just hard enough to send a shock of excitement down to her core, Natasha decided that being pliant in your hold wasn’t working for her. 
You shrieked in surprise when your position switched easily, the hands that had been firmly holding her wrists against the wall now pinned at your sides in the same way. You arched away from the cold tiles, effectively smashing your chests and eager nipples together as you attempted to run away from the cold wall.
“Fuck!” You shivered, your lips ghosting over hers. “You have a fucking Stingray and you still haven’t discovered heated walls?! What’s the point of having money if you don’t use it for good things!” Your words were quickly replaced by breathy moans as Natasha attached her mouth to your chest and greedily sucked a mark into your untouched skin; a mark that wouldn’t be easily hidden, especially not with the swimsuit you had been intending on wearing for the party. “Fuck, Nat–” You pushed her head away, hoping you’d acted quick enough for the damage to be only minimal. The smirk on her lips told you that you hadn’t succeeded, and you slapped at her shoulder in exasperation. “Your sister is literally going to be here in two hours, can you contain your vampire impulses until she leaves?!” 
“My sister has fucked her girlfriend in my guest bedroom. A hickey should be the least of her worries.” Natasha threw back at you, attacking her mouth to your nipple with purpose. You had ten minutes to sort yourselves out before Wanda came stomping up the stairs and pulling you out of the shower, orgasms or not. You did not want to spend the entire afternoon and evening hot and bothered because you got pussy blocked by a scary Sokovian. 
Natasha’s teeth pulled at your nipple, allowing the skin to sting for only a second before she soothed the pain with quick flicks of her tongue. Your other nipple was not privy to the same treatment, but her stumbling fingers attempted to make up for the neglect as she rolled and pinched at the pebbled bud. You shoved her head away from your chest, forcing her down onto her knees and in the direction of where you needed her most. It occurred to you briefly that you should wash her hair as she ate you out, kill two birds with one stone or whatever the saying was, but you quickly backtracked on that idea when her tongue sought out your clit with no lack of drive. Your knees wobbled, your breath got caught in your throat, and desperately your fingers tangled into her hair and pulled her closer. Your hips grinded against her face as she licked and sucked at your nerve with a passion, and you're certain that had the droplets of liquid fire not been falling over her face in a manner that was less than pretty, her chin would’ve glistened with your arousal. 
You arched into her touch as your orgasm approached, and Natasha had used the new position of your body as the perfect moment to bury two fingers knuckles deep in your cunt. You gasped in pleasure at the brief sting that came from her actions, crying out her name in pure bliss as she worked you over the edge so quickly you deserved an award for fastest achieved orgasm. 
She pulled away with dilated pupils, her own lust not forgotten about. You sank to your knees before her, pushing at her shoulders until she complied with your silent request and was laid out on the shower floor. Unlike you, she didn’t attempt to wiggle away from the flush of cold against her back, and unlike her, you didn’t waste time toying with her nipples. You dove straight into her cunt, lifting one of her legs until it was high enough to drop onto your shoulder. She tasted like she always did, but something about this situation made her more addictive. The spray of the water fell onto her belly, harsh droplets of water tinting the skin pink from not only the temperature but the pressure. One of these days, you’re going to get around to finding out the true pleasure of the detachable shower head, but today was not that day. You didn’t tease, much more intent at working her up and pushing her over before Wanda came to interrupt. Her clit throbbed beneath your tongue as you licked at her, and her walls clenched around your fingers as she pleaded for more. 
“Faster.” She moaned, her head thrown back against the white shower floors. The messy sprawl of her red hair was perfectly angelic, but you had no time to dwell on the sight of her as the minutes ticked down to none. Your fingers set into her at a punishing pace, curling into the sweet spot she loved so much until it was just a symphony of your name that rolled off her tongue in breathy whines and moans. You eased her off of the cliff with a practiced ease, giggling softly when she pushed your head away and subsequently caused water to spray in all directions as it bounced off her wrist. “N-Never letting you talk me into a shower quickie again. I think there’s an entire lake in my ears.” She panted, splaying a hand across her belly until she had managed to catch her breath. 
“I mean, technically I didn’t talk you into anything. I mouthed you into this.” You giggled, helping her stand and replacing your rough touch with something tender and sweet. You reached for Wanda’s shampoo, not caring that Natasha had her own right beside it. Wanda’s smelled sweeter, and if you were going to be the one to wash the woman’s hair, it would be you who picked the scene she bore for the rest of the day. 
You rubbed at her scalp, lathered until it bubbled, and eased your fingers through the knotted locks when it was time to wash it out. Wanda’s conditioner sat in her hair when the process was repeated on your head, and you sighed in relief when Natasha scratched her nails against the nape of your neck before trailing her hands down to your shoulders. Her thumbs worked on the soft muscles between your shoulder blades, and you melted into the firm attention. 
“How long can we stay in here before she breaks down the door?” You questioned, your eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself relax completely. Even if you hadn’t said it, you were beyond nervous to be meeting their family and friends. Some of the people attending their barbeque were big names in the security world, namely Kate Bishop, and you intended on making the best first impression if you were to ever have a career in the same field. 
“Three minutes.” Natasha chuckled gently, guiding you under the stream of water so she could rinse the soap from your hair. She conditioned you right after, twisting the strands of your hair between her fingers as she worked out the knots and kinks toward the ends. You rinsed her hair when she was done, dragged a loofa across her skin afterward, and then were rewarded with the same loving treatment. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. Everyone coming knows how much you mean to us. They’re all excited to meet you.” Natasha kissed your shoulder before she turned the water off and squeegeed the door clean of droplets and steam, stepping out into the cold first before she offered you a towel. 
“I know.” You sighed, drying your body as you tried to force your feelings into words. “I just want to make a good impression. These are your friends. It’s your sister. They matter to you and Wanda.” 
“And you matter to me and Wanda just as much. If you’re worried about Yelena, there’s no reason to be. She’s going to act like she hates you because she thinks it's her duty as my little sister to vet whoever I choose to spend my time with, but by the end of the night she’s going to have you trapped by the firepit showing you pictures of her dog. When she met Wanda for the first time, she insulted her in Russian because she thought she wouldn’t understand.” Natasha snorted at the memory, and you couldn’t help but grin bashfully at the admission. “You’re going to get along fine, and honestly that worries me. I can barely handle you by yourself.” 
“Hey!” You slapped at her side, but couldn’t help the wide smile that threatened to split your lips in half as you stared up at her. “I’ll be on my best behavior, promise.” 
“I don’t doubt that, утенок.” Natasha leaned forward to kiss your lips, and you returned the gesture though a crinkle of confusion settled across your brows. 
You asked once she pulled away, wrapping the towel tightly around your torso so that you could make a break for the guest bedroom where your outfit for the day remained. “What does that one mean?” 
“Duckling.” She laughed, and you groaned knowing that it was going to stick around, at least for a little while. You’d been quite privy to Wanda in recent days, call it making up for lost time if you really had to explain your reasonings, and both the Russian and Sokovian had chalked up your clinginess as acts of a duckling blindly following its mother. If Wanda was anywhere in the house, you were right behind her. Yesterday you had genuinely pouted at the bathroom door when she forbade you from coming in with her when she needed to pee, and unluckily enough for you, Natasha had come into the bedroom at just the right time to watch the scene unfold. “Go get dressed. Yelena said she’s arriving at twelve which really means she’ll be here in twenty minutes.”  
You nodded quickly, bolting out of the master bathroom and into your claimed bedroom without a moment of hesitance, not wanting Yelena to arrive before you were dressed. The door wasn’t even fully closed before you were dropping your towel and scrambling to find your bathing suit bottoms in the pile of messy clothes stacked on the dresser. 
-
Droplets of chlorinated water lingered on touches of skin that had yet to be dried by the slowly slipping Spring sun; still a ripple of motion in the pool that hadn’t yet gone completely still with the fresh absence of bodies in the water. The crack of wood submitting to controlled flames accompanied the music of laughter and conversation that happened around you. The evening was long ahead of you, eternal more hours of company promised, but you didn’t feel any obligation to join in on jokes and memories as you fell into Wanda’s lap and snuggled in close, seeking her warmth and comfort as a chill set overtop of you. You’d been drinking all afternoon, being handed hard seltzers and beers whenever anyone noticed your hands were empty. You’d finished a handful of Wanda and Natasha’s chosen drinks, taking it upon yourself to try at least one of every flavor they had laying around the backyard. The flush on your cheeks was near permanent at this point, and though the heat in your ears would be gone by morning and replaced with a headache only Advil and sleep could soothe, the kiss on your cheeks would last days before it settled into darkened skin. 
As promised, Yelena had kept you pinned to the edge of the pool when the sun was still at its highest peak in the sky, showing you pictures and videos of the two dogs she took great pride in caring for. Kate had watched for a while, draped across her girlfriend's shoulder as the three of you laughed at a particular video of Fanny and Lucky dressed up in bowties zooming around their daylight drenched kitchen, but she had excused herself to the bathroom before the end was in sight. Maria Hill had been your savior, though you were content with Yelena’s easy presence not to mind your trapped position much while it had lasted. The early hours of the afternoon had been filled with conversation and the act of acquainting, but the later hours had told a different story; a wild one. It was the story of how you had come to find this state of mind, far past the point of being tipsy and well on your way to true drunkness. 
You hummed when Wanda laid her palm flat over your belly, keeping you close and safe in her lap. The soft pad of her thumb tickled your belly button as she adjusted slowly, sinking further down into the lounge chair she sprawled across. The sloppy smile on your face was the truest indication of your contentment, and Wanda, though she wondered who had been the one to feed you so much alcohol without her realizing, returned the grin. 
Natasha and Yelena were noticeably missing from the circle, but the silhouettes of their wild hair and toned shoulders were figures or darkness in the kitchen that promised a quick return. Natasha, though only an inch or so taller than her sister, wore her curls in a messy bun that slipped lower and lower down her head as the hours carried on. She was easiest to spot from a distance, the shadow of her presence known perfectly to you. Wanda didn’t pay you much attention other than the firm hand on your belly, but you were content to just be with her as she laughed and caught up with the blonde woman sat beside her; Carol Danvers. 
“They put up a new plaque for Pietro today.” Carol laughed at the inkling of information she had forgotten to share earlier in the afternoon, and Wanda craned her head in hopeful willingness that Carol would share more. “He would’ve loved it. He’s the only bastard on the squad that was dumb enough to have a catch phrase.” 
As if that mentioned catch phrase had been sitting on the lips of every person gathered around the fire, it fell from soft tongues without a moment of hesitation. Messy, not at all in tune, but seemingly perfect to Wanda who smiled when horrible Sokovian accents caught up to her ears and the words her brother had made his slogan lived on when even he didn’t, “You didn’t see that coming.” 
Memorial day has never held much significance to you. It had been just another holiday that sat on the start of summer, sometimes warm enough for gatherings like these, and sometimes not. Until you realized that the American flag folded in militant perfection in the master bedroom was a symbol of remembrance, you hadn’t thought it held much significance to the CEO’s either. Even though you hadn’t known Pietro, his life ending years before your path had crossed with the Maximoff’s, you smiled. His name had lingered in conversations throughout the day, and you didn’t question how loved he still was after years of absence. 
Wanda’s lips were heavy on the crown of your head when she leaned down to kiss you. You leaned into the touch, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest second before they opened and found Natasha admiring the sight of you. Two beers retrieved from the cooler near the pool sat in her hands, one cracked open and extended in your direction. 
“She doesn’t need anymore.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but didn’t stop you from grabbing the long necked bottle Natasha offered and adjusting yourself in her lap so that you could sip on it easily, having already spilled one drink down the front of you. With your back against her chest, and your legs situated between hers, you had to crane your neck to catch even the slightest glimpse of her face, but her arms around your torso were the physical assurance of her presence. She rubbed at the skin of your belly that had grown pink and warm beneath the sun, not yet tan, but it would come soon. The hickey on your chest had long since been forgotten, though Yelena had posed many questions of its origin before Kate slapped her shoulder and changed the topic. You’d been accepted without question, and you found that while some of their friends were painfully intimidating, Maria and Carol, they were truly sweethearts who had the same tendencies of protection as your dominants. 
When your beer had grown warm, and your cheeks had grown flusher, having been in no hurry to finish it off and replenish it like Yelena was doing, you passed the near empty bottle off to Natasha who had taken it not without an exasperated roll of her eyes and a mumbled sentence along the lines of being nothing but your servant. You had giggled, shrugged your shoulders, and curled further into Wanda who didn’t seem to even flinch at your elbow digging into her ribs. 
Despite your determination to remain awake, sleep won over you just as quickly as drunkenness had. Wanda merely rubbed your back in encouragement, being the single factor that had forced you into soft unconsciousness when conversations still buzzed around you. With your eyes closed and your breathing even, no chance of being woken even by the harshest storm, conversation had naturally flowed away from Pietro and onto you, but both Wanda and Natasha welcomed the new topic if it meant having the welcomed opportunity to boast about just how truly sweet you are. 
“I see you played the long game, Maximoff.” Maria winked at the Sokovian, her icy blue eyes admiring your innocent form as you attempted to wiggle closer to the auburn haired women who held you tightly. If you could find a way to burrow yourself beneath her skin, she knew that you would’ve done so already. 
“Patience rewards those who have it.” Wanda merely smirked in response, running her pruney fingers from hours of holding sweating cans and bottles through your chlorine stiff hair. “She just needed a little encouragement.” 
“She wasn’t the only one.” Natasha rolled her eyes, sipping slowly on her beer that despite the warmth, still brought a piece of home over her longing heart. Russians may drink vodka, but Melina Vostokoff had always preferred a beer. 
Wanda shrugged, knowing that despite her persistently cold demeanor, she had never truly doubted how her heart yearned for you. “It’s not my fault you brought home a brat.” 
“If I remember correctly, you said the same thing when you met Natasha.” Carol smirked over the lip of her can, her eyes burning holes into the side of Natasha’s face, though the Russian pointedly ignored her stare. 
“Watch it, Danvers.” She warned, but surrendered to the teasing she had missed in recent months. Life was busy, but they’d always find a reason to come back together.
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wandasaura · 2 months
Text
LOVELORN AND NOBODY KNOWS
summary — your relationship with natasha is not as black and white as it seems, but you’re in no rush to figure out the logistics of it. when she leaves for a business trip, wanda is your only source of comfort, but you hate her… right?
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, playful banter between three idiots, somnophilia, edging, praise, begging, teasing, oral, fingering, semi-clothed sex, finger sucking, bratty reader, a fuck ton of domestic shenanigans, copious amounts of fluff, essentially hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks, mommy wanda 101, so much softness, men/minors dni
authors note — this is actually such a wild ride, and i shamelessly got the slightest bit carried away, but hey, we’re making progress in the wanda x reader department!
you are in love universe
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
You saw Natasha at least three times a week, she made sure of it when she could. Sometimes, you were lucky enough to see her every day in some capacity, other times her business kept you apart for an entire week if not longer. Your favorite days were the ones where she’d stop by your dorm room for a quick lunch break. She’d bring your favorite meal and a bouquet of vibrant flowers, and it gave you a taste of what an authentic relationship with her would look like. You never forgot about Wanda. Never forgot that she was already married and had her wife’s explicit permission to be seeing you, but it was nice to pretend anyway. It probably wasn’t the best idea to have a crush on your employer, even if your arrangement was anything but practical, but even still, you should not be crushing hard on the woman who pays you for a fuck. 
You’d seen Natasha four times this week and it was only Wednesday. She’d stopped by your dorm room for lunch on Monday afternoon, holding onto a takeout bag from your favorite Italian restaurant, a bouquet of wildflowers neatly arranged in a tall and elegant vase, and one of her old Avengers University hoodies that had been meticulously sprayed down with her expensive perfume. On Tuesday, you ran into her at your favorite coffee shop where she subsequently stopped you from ordering a triple shot espresso in exchange for an ice water. You’d wanted to be mad, wanted to tell her that you were a big girl and you needed the extra caffeine to survive the long day of studying ahead, but when you’d even thought about challenging her, one look into her green eyes had you melting into the submissive partner she expected you to be. Sometimes you hated how easily she could break your strength without even trying, but you knew that was the biggest lie you've ever told yourself. You adore the control she has over you, you allow her to have that control, but sometimes you just wanted her to remind you of that. She did later that evening when you’d gone to the Maximoff’s residence for dinner. On Wednesday morning, you woke up with a soft ache between your thighs and the remnants of her touch in the form of scattered bruising across your chest. 
Every Wednesday night since you’d signed the contract to be Natasha Maximoff’s sugar baby, you had gone over to the Maximoff residence for a movie night and pizza. There was never a promise of anything sexual happening, but sometimes you just couldn’t help yourself and Natasha would fuck you right there on the couch if you asked nice enough. Wanda wasn’t always a participant in your film marathons. She worked in the office a significant amount more than Natasha did, claiming she liked the fast paced environment more than the peaceful quiet of the house, and her late hours kept her away from you most Wednesday nights. For that you were beyond grateful, but you didn’t always get so lucky. 
Tonight was one of those nights where Wanda had retired from the office earlier than usual, and was already on the couch with a half finished glass of wine before you’d even shown up at seven. The key you kept on your lanyard was practically useless on Wednesdays. If the door wasn’t already unlocked prior to your arrival, Natasha was sprinting to open it before you could even attempt to do it yourself. The gesture made you blush a ferocious shade of red each time, and you wondered if she sat by the window and watched you drive up just so she could fluster you, but you’d never get that answer out of her no matter how prettily you begged. Some secrets were kept tightly underwraps, even if they were merely forged in amusement. You’ve come to learn that Natasha Maximoff loves secrets, even if they made both yours and Wanda’s skin crawl. 
“How were classes, milyy?” Natasha asked sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips in the doorway of the house, not yet letting you enter fully. The warmer days of Spring had finally settled over top of the small New Jersey shore town she and Wanda lived within, and the lick of heat that encased your body was particularly pleasant tonight. Dressed in only a pair of soft pajama shorts and her recently gifted hoodie, you didn’t mind standing outside for as long as she wanted, the moonlight reflecting off of her eyes created its own endless galaxy that you had the pleasure of getting lost in. You’d hate to shuffle inside and lose sight of it. 
“Tiring.” You hummed, leaning into her gentle touch when her calloused palms reached out to cup your cheeks. Your answer sets the mood for the evening even without meaning to, but you don’t mind what you’re getting yourself into. Natasha is always particularly attentive and soft with you if you tell her that you’ve had a long day, and secretly, you’ve been anticipating her coddling since your second lecture that afternoon. “It’s almost done, I just keep telling myself that.” 
“And then you’re mine for an entire summer. Think you can manage six more weeks before I steal you away?” She asked softly, already having a plethora of ideas for how she’d ask you to spend your break. You practically lived at the Maximoff residence during the semester, she couldn’t imagine three full months of your undivided attention and company. It was sure to be bliss. 
“Or I can drop out and we can start early.” You suggested, though it was merely a fabrication of your need for calm rather than any actual intentions of dropping out. You adored your academics, as demanding as they were, you were just reaching a critical episode of burnout. “Never let me overload again. I think my cerebrum is malfunctioning.” 
“That’s a big word for such a little girl.” Wanda’s voice quipped from deeper into the house, a playful edge to her tone but you were in no mood for jokes, especially not from her. You scowled with the knowledge that you wouldn’t even get a handful of hours alone with Natasha now, whining pitifully into the chest of your dominant. Sometimes you wished you could call her more than that, but you’d settle for anything if it meant calling her yours. 
“Be nice, she’s just teasing.” Natasha rewarded you with a gentle kiss, her cold fingers tilting your chin upward until she had your lips perfectly available. You tasted like coffee, and her brows furrowed at the realization that not long ago, probably not even a full half hour ago, you’d consumed caffeine. She always worried about you getting enough sleep at night, and the repercussions of caffeine on days when your anxiety was particularly brutal, but you never listened to her. “How many coffee’s have you had today, milyy?” 
“Please don’t punish me.” You sighed in regret, melting against her chest and forcing her arms to wrap around your waist and support the majority of your weight, the front door still open and allowing the valued cold air that Wanda paid a pretty penny for to slip out into the streets of Westview. “I just needed something to get me through class, and I didn’t want to fall asleep on you ten minutes into a movie so I stopped on the way here. I didn’t even finish it, promise, it’s still half-full in the car. You’re leaving tomorrow. I just wanted to see you.” 
Your nervous rambling was enough to indicate that your head was swimming in thoughts that made no real sense. Truthfully you knew that Natasha wouldn’t punish you for your caffeine intake. She’d be worried, she’d make you drink enough water to refill the ocean if it somehow managed to evaporate, but she wouldn’t punish you. Her consideration for your wellbeing did not warrant a physical punishment for choices you made as a grown adult, even if they concerned her. 
“Is that what this is about?” Natasha quizzed, looking down at you with a fondness in her eyes that made your cheeks flush a shade of pink only she had ever been able to create. When you nodded sadly, still not willing to let go of her waist, the lawyer huffed out a mixture of laughter that was somehow both saddened and amused. “It’s only two weeks, milyy. Fourteen days. How many hours is that?” She asked softly, knowing that you knew the answer. When you had first learned of her inescapable business trip to the Bahamas, which honestly sounded more like a dream than an obligation, you’d gone on a rampage. You’d listed off the number of days and hours and seconds that you’d be apart. You’d pleaded with her not to leave you for so long, and as embarrassed as you felt once you’d sobered up from your state of panic, the fact still remained that you were dreading the time apart. Yeah, Natasha was definitely more than just your contractual dominant, but neither one of you had braved a conversation regarding what the true extent of your relationship was. 
“Three hundred and thirty six. That’s over twenty thousand minutes, Natty.” You whispered into her chest so softly that the howling wind almost drowned you out, but still Natasha heard you and tightened her hold around your midsection, not caring about how warm the house became as a result of the still open front door. She’d melt into a puddle if it meant easing your mind, and Wanda, despite her tendency to poke fun at you, didn’t mind either. 
“You’ll be okay. I have a surprise for you, but I think we need to get some food into this belly and some water into you before we do any of that.” Natasha smoothed the wild flyaways away from your face, cradling your cheeks sweetly and tenderly, almost as if she was afraid if she touched you too hard you’d crumble on her front porch. 
At the mention of a surprise, your attention peaked, and you tried to peer around her body for any indication of what it was that she had. “Now?” You tried to convince her, a lively spark coming back to your eyes. You always loved her surprises. They weren’t all material, and the ones that were didn’t always make your bank account hurt at the mere thought of how much she’d spent on you. Sometimes a surprise meant that she’d take you out for a walk and bring you to her favorite bench by the shore, sometimes it meant she’d found little canvases to paint and had set up a makeshift studio in her office. Sometimes it meant that she had new toys to test and outfits to wear. You never knew what she had up her sleeve, but you adored her efforts nonetheless. 
Natasha laughed at your eagerness, glad that you had come back to yourself if only for a couple of minutes, but shook her head to decline your temptations. “Not now. Come on, inside, baby.” She guided you further into the house, finally closing the heavy front door when you were far enough inside to not be nicked by the latch. She’d made the mistake once, and you hadn’t let her forget about it since. She was so excited about your company that she’d more or less attempted to close the front door on your body, and while she’d apologized profusely, you’d just taken the bait and been able to call her the impatient one for once. 
“Hi Wanda.” You mumbled out pleasantries, knowing that it would make Natasha happy even if you just wanted to ignore the other CEO in the room. The woman was curled up into the corner of the couch, far away from the spot you and Natasha typically occupied during movie nights. Briefly you wondered if she’d done it on purpose, or if that was just the spot she liked to sit in. 
“Hi, darling.” She returned the greeting, though it was significantly warmer than yours. Natasha praised you for your efforts either way, running her cold hands up and down your thighs as she came to stand directly behind you, her chin resting on the crown of your head in the way you despised when anyone else tried to do that same. She was only two or so inches taller than you, but she made up for it in dominance, and it was no help that you shrunk in on yourself whenever she was around. 
“Go sit with Wanda, baby. I’ll bring you out some pizza.” Natasha left a kiss on the side of your head before she pulled away from you entirely and gave you an encouraging shove toward the couch. You pouted not only because of her asking you to keep Wanda company, but because the last thing you wanted was to leave her company after just entering it. 
Wanda laughed at your expression, patting the soft silk cushions of the couch invitingly. You adored their couch. You had made it known on multiple occasions when you all but refused to move into a bed at the end of the night, but something about being left alone with Wanda made even the softest seat feel daunting and scary. “I don’t bite, detka.” Wanda laughed, watching you pleadingly stare at Natasha who promptly ignored the burn of your eyes on her back as she disappeared into the kitchen. Her auburn hair looked like pure fire as she slipped into the brighter lit room, the overhead lights casting spells on her appearance. “She’ll be right back, there’s no need to pout.” 
You huffed at Wanda’s unwillingness to appease your sadness, but shuffled on your feet until you were close enough to the couch to plop down in the way she hated. The cushion sank beneath your weight and the back of the couch welcomed your presence without any additional need to wiggle around and get comfortable, and as much as it felt like a warm hug, your skin crawled being so close to Wanda without Natasha around to mediate. 
“Don’t be a brat, darling. It’s only for a couple of minutes.” Wanda’s scold wasn’t necessarily cold, but it was still laced with dominance that you couldn’t ignore. You huffed, pouting deeper, grabbing fistfulls of the hoodie’s sleeves and holding them over your trembling fingers. Wanda’s reserve melted as she picked up the subtle tells of anxiety, and that indistinguishable gleam reappeared in her eyes that were green like Natasha’s but so so different and unique. “You still have all of tonight. There’s no need for the tears right now, angel. Tomorrow, you can cry all you want, but enjoy what you have in the moment. Can you do that, detka?” 
“I don’t want her to leave.” You mumbled, nervously bringing the cuff of Natasha’s sleeve up to your mouth and chewing on it. Wanda had seen Natasha reprimand you for the action, she herself had reprimanded you for the action, but you looked far too nervous to scold right now, so she let you be. You didn’t know what had come over you. Never would you admit such silly feelings to Wanda, but you figured she would understand your thoughts. Natasha was nothing to you but a piece of paper, even if you didn’t believe that it was still the truth, but Wanda was her wife, and she had every reason to hate this trip more than you did. 
Not making a sarcastic remark like you’d half-expected her to, Wanda merely shrugged sadly and took another long sip of her red. You hated red wine, but the lawyer beside you found it particularly comforting for reasons you’d never asked about. “I don’t want her to go either, but she has to. A long time ago we stopped getting upset about what’s best for our business. It doesn’t do either of us any good if we work ourselves up about the inevitable. She’s come back before, hasn’t she?” 
“Yeah, but– but she’s never been gone this long, and– and, I don’t know.” You shrugged, your words practically incoherent with the thick material still between your teeth, but Wanda had understood you perfectly. 
“I think you do know, but you don’t want to tell me, and that’s okay. It’s okay to need her, malysh. She does a lot for you, yes? More than just providing orgasms like you’d thought you’d be getting into.” There was a hint of a teasing in Wanda’s tone, and her words caused a blush to spread across your cheeks at the implication of her knowing about your most intimate moments. Of course she knew. She’d seen you cum on Natasha’s strap and her fingers, on her thigh and on her tongue, in her bed and on her couch and her dining room table, but still you found ways to be shy about the topic after nearly a year. 
“Shut up.” You mumbled through your mortification, wanting desperately to hide your face and scrub this conversation from your memory. Your cerebrum may be failing in an intellectual sense, but it was working just fine now and you hated to admit that talking about orgasms with Wanda made you needy. 
Wanda laughed at your embarrassment, setting her wine glass down on the coffee table in front of her, her ringed fingers sparkling in the dim lighting of the room. The diamonds on her left hand were particularly blinding, and once again you remembered what you were to them and what Natasha wasn’t to you. 
“Natasha is just as upset about leaving you. She knows this is a stressful time, or did you forget we both went through eight years of law school?” Wanda quirked a perfectly sculpted brow in your direction, her green stare unwavering, and honestly, you had forgotten that they’d been in your shoes once, even if it was years ago now. Your silence was enough of an answer for Wanda whose lips curled upward into her signature smirk of amusement. “I think you’ll like the surprise.”
“You know what it is?” Your head whipped in her direction, and no longer did you avoid looking into her eyes. Your excitement was back, and desperately you bounced on the couch and pulled the sleeve away from your mouth. “What is it?” 
“What kind of secret would it be if I gave it up so easily? You should know better than that, little one.” Wanda laughed, curling her legs further beneath her as she readjusted on the couch, not missing your immediate pout at her unwillingness to even give you a hint. “You will find out soon.”
“I wanna find out now.” You huffed, throwing yourself back into the couch and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t beg with Wanda, no you still had enough self control to restrain from stopping to such low levels, but maybe you could work Natasha and get her to cave before she made you sit through an entire movie still not knowing. 
“Are you still pouting about the surprise?” The voice of your dominant hadn’t been expected, and you lurched forward on the couch in a desperate attempt to please her. Both women laughed at your stick-straight posture and firmly planted feet, but only one of them leaned forward to kiss your head and for that you were grateful. 
“Yes!” You huffed, throwing your arms out toward your sides in exasperation, narrowly avoiding hitting Natasha in the face as she leaned down to place three plates of pizza on the coffee table. You’d never understand how she could balance so many things at once, but when you’d asked once, she’d just laughed and told you she was a skilled spy in another life. “Please, Natty? I want to know! Wanda knows! You know! I’m the only one who doesn’t know!”
“That’s because A, Wanda lives here, and B, the surprise is for you. Do I need to remind you of the definition of a surprise, or is your brain working enough to remind yourself.” She taunted, not yet moving to sit down on the couch and collect you into her embrace, and it was then you realized that she still needed to go and collect the waters from the kitchen. “Eat. If half of that slice is gone by time I get back, maybe I’ll throw you a bone.” 
Wanda laughed at your deep frown, but she made no other comments that would’ve gotten you into hot water with Natasha when you inevitably quipped back at her. You aggressively grabbed the slice from the plate, biting off more than you could comfortably chew just as a means of expressing your annoyance. 
“Somebody’s fussy.” Natasha merely commented, and you sighed knowing she was right. She was always right, but it never made the pill any easier to swallow when she called you out. “How much sleep did you get last night?” She quizzed, and once again it felt like you were under interrogation as she looked up into her eyes and simultaneously felt Wanda’s gaze on the back of your head. 
“How many hours will you consider a reasonable amount?” You tried to wiggle your way out of trouble, but Natasha was unwilling to budge as she placed her hands on her hips. “Two.” You eventually admitted. “And I had four coffees. I never answered that question. But it wasn’t my fault, honest, Natty!” 
“And how would that not be your fault?” Natasha played your game, even if she so desperately wanted to march your ass up the stairs and make you go to bed right then and there. 
“I had to cover for my group partners for a stupid project that’s literally worth half of our grade! I don’t know how those fucking idiots have even made it this far without being kicked out. I’ve been reaching out to them all semester, but I couldn’t wait to finish it any more. It’s due next week and every time I emailed the professor she just told me to wait a little longer because I still had time before it was due. I left them parts to do so that they could get some credit at least, that was a fucking mistake.” You seethed, your jaw locked as you recounted the events of last night that had definitely ended with you crying yourself to sleep out of sheer frustration. 
“Detka.” Surprisingly, it was Wanda’s voice that called out to you, and you turned to face her with unbridled tears in your eyes. “You are not responsible for the academics of others who do not wish to put in the same amount of effort as you. It was very nice that you tried to save their asses, but if I hear that you sacrificed your own wellbeing again, you will have to deal with me. Not Natasha, and not your professors. Is that understood?” 
You knew that Wanda could punish you if she really wanted to. Natasha had made that clear when you’d been filling out the contract. As much as you were only her submissive, you’d agreed to her proposition of letting Wanda deal with you if she saw fit, and clearly, this was an instance where both of them agreed because Natasha didn’t offer a single defense in your favor. Wanda had never threatened to punish you, not seriously at least, it was more or less just banter between two dominants who sought out different things in a submissive, but now she was beyond serious and your cheeks flushed at the scolding. Your typical snarky response attitude fell away in an instance, leaving only a pliant submissive in the place where sarcasm usually filled. You tested Wanda. You pushed her buttons and bit back at her when she dangled bait in front of your face, but it was always Wanda that you fought with, the woman Natasha married, not the dominant you knew that she was both inside and outside of the bedroom. You had enough respect for her to address her with obedience now, even if you tried to tell yourself you hated her guts. 
“Yes, ma’am.” You whispered, dropping your gaze to your trembling hands in your lap. “I only tried to help them. My professor kept telling me everything was okay.” 
“Your professor is an idiot, and if she doesn’t fail your partners when you tell her that they did nothing to help you, which you will tell her next time you have class, I will deal with her myself. Is that understood, little one?” Wanda’s hand reached out to capture your chin, and although you wanted to flinch away from her touch, scared that it would burn you if that was at all possible, you allowed her to redirect your stare until you were looking into her worried and angered eyes. 
“Yes.” You deflated, hating that your peaceful evening had turned into this. “Can we just drop it? Please? I don’t want to talk about school.” 
“You’ve had a long couple of days, haven’t you?” Natasha cooed sweetly, understanding what you needed even if you hadn’t explicitly asked for it. You wanted to shut your brain off and just surrender yourself to her. You wanted her to take control, you wanted her to make the decisions, and she was more than happy to comply with that request. 
“The longest.” You sighed out, leaning into her touch when she reached a hand out and gently cradled your face. “I didn’t want to be naughty. I didn’t think I was being naughty.” 
“I never laid out academic expectations, you have no reason to feel guilty about breaking a rule you didn’t know existed. You know now, and will you do it again?” Natasha asked softly, getting down on her knees in front of you and softly wiping the pads of her thumbs against your cheeks, wiping away tears that hadn’t yet fallen. 
“No.” You shook your head, an admission that you couldn’t stop from forming on the tip of your tongue. “Wanda’s scary.” 
Natasha laughed at your statement, but she nodded her head softly, not disagreeing with you. She had been on the receiving end of Wanda’s scolding one too many times, and she knew just how threatening it could be. If you thought she was scary now, when she was admittedly being very soft and patient with you, Natasha knew you’d be a gonner the second you actually did anything to piss her off. “She is pretty scary, huh? But it’s only because she cares about you, even though you like to act like a little brat whenever she’s around. You’re a cute brat.” 
“Natalia.” Wanda’s sharp tone caught both of your attention, and subconsciously you leaned in closer to Natasha as if she could protect you from her wife. “Do not encourage her.” 
Natasha cracked a small goofy smile that had you giggling, your guilt and upset long forgotten as you leaned forward to kiss her nose the same way she did to you. “Eat your pizza, baby. I’ll show you the surprise after, okay?” 
“Okay.” You agreed, letting her stand and retreat back to the kitchen to collect the water she would undeniably make you drink entirely. “I’m a cute brat.” You looked back at Wanda, repeating Natasha’s words that would definitely get you in trouble at a later date, but for tonight, Wanda allowed you to feel content with the admission, not wanting to see any more tears in your eyes. She would never tell you, but seeing you upset broke her heart just as much as it did when she saw Natasha upset.
“I am not above spanking a cute brats ass until it’s sore for a week, but yes, you are a very cute brat.” Wanda laughed, not missing the way your eyes bulged out of your head and you quickly distracted yourself with another bite of pizza. 
When pizza was eaten and a significant amount of water was drunk, Natasha kept her promise of showing you to your surprise. Wanda didn’t trail along with you, more than content to let you have a moment alone with the woman you would miss unbearably by this time tomorrow. You held onto Natasha’s hand as she guided you down the upstairs hallway, practically bouncing on your toes as she took her sweet time. 
“Why are we going in here? It’s empty.” You frowned when Natasha abruptly stopped walking and instead stood still in front of the third door on the left; the last door on this side of the hallway. The first two doors led to rooms you knew well, although Wanda’s office was significantly less explored then Natasha’s, you’d still been in there a handful of times when your dominant asked you to place some paperwork on her desk. 
“Finals are coming up, and I know you hate working in the library because college kids don’t know the definition of quiet.” Natasha began, her hand not yet reaching for the gold doorknob. The suspense was killing you, and she seemed to take great pleasure in that fact. “I thought you would like to have a space where you can come and do your work, or just decompress if you need to. Well, it was actually Wanda’s idea, but she thought you’d hate it if she knew it was her suggestion, so don’t tell her I told you.”  
“My lips are sealed.” You giggled, keeping your voice low and hushed, though you were absolutely certain Wanda could hear the both of you perfectly clear despite your mutual efforts to be sneaky. The woman had a strange sixth sense for knowing when you and Natasha were causing trouble, but this time it was at least a good trouble. 
“You have your key. I want you to use it when I’m gone, even if Wanda’s home and you think she won’t want to see you. This might not be your home, but you are welcome at all hours of the day and night.” Natasha kissed the side of your head gently before she reached out for the doorknob and gently led you inside, flicking on the lights when both of you were inside of the room. 
The plain white walls that you were used to were now adorned in all kinds of photographs and prints. Some of the pieces displayed were photographs of you and Natasha that you didn’t even know existed, but some were posters of your favorite places and artists that only someone who paid careful attention would know. You’d droned on and on about Scotland and Moscow one night with Natasha, and you hadn’t expected her to really be listening, nor remember the exact locations mentioned, but the scenic photographs of your favorite towns and cities proved that she had been and that she did. There were little knick knacks and trinkets on the bookshelf toward the back of the room, and your eyes quickly spotted a figurine of a whimsical fairy placed right beside your favorite children's book that brought you comfort on long days. There was greenery in almost every corner of the room. A succulent sitting on your desk with prickly beige spikes adorning its thickest section. You giggled at the pot of choice, approaching it slowly as if you weren’t allowed to touch it. The entire room was magnificent and so perfectly you, you didn’t even know how to express your gratitude.
“This is amazing, Nat.” You breathed out in wonder, sweeping the tips of your fingers along the potted cactus. The pot was a nude color, notably the same shade of pale as Natasha’s skin in the wintertime, and the painted nipples on the pot were comically small and pink. You knew that she’d been the one to pick out that pot, and you could almost imagine Wanda’s exasperation when she’d been shown it. “How much of a fuss did Wanda put up about the pot?” You giggled. 
“Oh she made me cook dinner for three days after that purchase. Something about me being ‘incredibly childish and needing to learn how an adult acts’. I know she likes it though. There’s a matching one in our bathroom.” Natasha’s smirk was smug, and you desperately wanted to kiss it off her face, but you were frozen in place when you realized there was a desktop computer sitting in the middle of your desk that was identical to the one in both her and Wanda’s office. 
“Nat, you didn’t need to do this. This must have cost you a fortune.” Tears brimmed your eyes, but unlike before, they weren’t in the slightest bit sad. You crashed into her chest with a force that threatened to knock her on her ass, but she had maintained upright and had reciprocated the embrace with a tightness that only reminded you about her upcoming departure. “I’m going to miss you so much.”  
“Hey, look at me, angel.” Natasha gently guided your eyes to meet hers, and you were shocked to find that they were just as glassy as your own. Maybe Wanda was telling you the truth when she said Natasha was just as upset about the business trip as you are. “I’ll be back in three hundred and thirty six hours, and then I’m not leaving for the rest of summer. You have me for three full months, can you be my strong girl for two weeks?” 
“Only if you promise that you won't have any fun while you’re gone. And that you’ll drink a pina colada for me, straight out of a coconut, with a pink bendy straw and a little umbrella.” Natasha laughed at your petulant proposition, but she extended her pinky finger in the same childish fashion. 
“I pinky promise I won’t have any fun. It’ll be impossible to have any fun without you, detka.” She whispered, leaning forward to brush her lips against your forehead. “And I pinky promise to drink a pina colada straight out of a coconut with a pink bendy straw and a little umbrella just for you.” 
“I can be your strong girl then.” You wrapped your pinky around hers, pulling your entangled fingers close to kiss them softly and lock in the promise. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.” 
“I wish I didn’t have to leave either, but it’s my turn to be the big scary boss lady. And, you’ll have this space to come to if you miss me. There might be a couple of other surprises laying around, but I want you to find them in your own time, okay?” 
“No super sneaky peeking around.” You agreed, cracking a genuine smile up at her. “Can we go watch the movie now? Wanda hasn’t complained about seeing Cars in a while.” 
“Are you ever going to let her have a moment of peace?” Natasha laughed at your cheeky expression, smoothing it down with a lingering kiss that was nothing but sweet. 
“Absolutely not.” You giggled, already peeling away from her body and making a mad dash down the stairs and toward the living room, knowing that she’d be right behind you. 
-
A fire in your lower belly is the sensation that eventually pulls you from sleep, though the blinding presence of morning sunshine is a close second. It takes only three seconds for you to realize that your hips are pinned to the soft mattress beneath your weight, incapacitating you from attempting to stretch like a newborn kitten, it takes you a further three seconds to realize that the fire in your core was not a result of a wet dream you couldn’t remember, but rather Natasha’s tongue and fingers as she worked you open. 
You gasped at a particularly harsh thrust, her fingers curling into your pussy with a vengeance, seeking out that soft spot within your walls that made your eyes roll each and every time she abused it. If you weren’t so disoriented from sleep, you would’ve had the decency to feel embarrassed about the wet squelching sounds that Natasha draws from your cunt every time she snaps her wrist back toward your mound, but there's no time to think about how desperate your body is for her touch even when asleep. 
“Daddy!” You cry out, your back arching off the bed, attempting to push yourself closer to her face and seek out a deeper pressure on your clit that's being worked over with practiced ease. You briefly wonder how long she’s been between your legs, but it's not a thought that stays longer than a fleeting single second before you're being distracted by her nails digging into your thigh wit the hand thats not fucking your desperate hole. “Please! Fuck!” 
Natasha moans against your pussy, and it’s only when you raise your head to see her clearly that you realize that there's a vibrator clenched between her own naked thighs and she’s actively chasing her own high, her hips rocking against the bulbous head of the purple toy you have a love-hate relationship with. Your fingers reach down to grab at her auburn hair, pulling her closer to where you need her most, begging her to fix the mess that she single-handedly created. 
You can feel the coil growing in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter with each pass of her tongue against your throbbing clit. You come undone so quickly for her, there’s no telling if she’s been between your thighs for mere minutes or entire hours, but the sensation of sunlight against your face tells you that it’s at least ten in the morning, and Natasha’s an early riser, so you know that if anything, she’s been edging you for at least an hour so successfully that you hadn’t even stirred. 
Her lips pull away from your clit far too soon for your liking, and the hill that you’d been climbing slowly starts to fall despite the fingers still practicing a punishing pace as they disappear into your most intimate part. “Do you know how many sweet orgasms Daddy has stolen from you, Princess? Do you know how sweetly you moan when you're still asleep?” 
“Fuck, Daddy, please!” You cry out in desperation, writhing on the bed before her free hand leaves your thigh and reclaims its position against your hips, effectively stilling your movements and leaving you to just accept what she gives you. 
“Five. Daddy’s edged you five times. You must’ve been so sleepy, baby girl. Do you feel all rested now?” She teases, and her mouth is so close to your pussy that you can feel the vibration of her words against your clit. She wont start up again until you’ve answered her, but there's not a single coherent sentence in your brain at the moment. Your senses and thoughts are consumed with one thing; her. “Hm, do you feel better now, baby? You were so tired last night you didn’t even make a fuss when Wanda carried you to bed.”
Your face flushes in embarrassment as you learn about who had been the one to tuck you in so tenderly. You remember red hair and soft lips as they kissed your forehead, you remember a gentle hand brushing against your cheeks as you whined for them to stay with you, but it hadn’t registered that it was Wanda who carried you upstairs and not Natasha. 
“Y-Yes, yes I feel better, now please! P-Please Daddy, make me cum! Let me cum!” You sob rather pathetically, but you're too lost in pleasure to care about how needy you come across. Your fingers that are still threaded into her hair attempt to pull her lips back to your clit and she lets you. If she didn’t want you winning, you know she could’ve easily resisted your grip, but there's something so satisfying about believing that you’ve overpowered Natasha Maximoff. 
“Thought you’d never ask.” Natasha hums against your clit, devouring your pussy with purpose. She’s not wasting time on pleasantries, you suppose she’s already done enough of that, and her tongue sets a punishing pace in tune with her fingers as she circles and flicks at your clit with the very opposite of kitten licks like you know she loves to tease you with. 
“Oh! Oh!” You cry out, an orgasm approaching you, but unlike earlier, Natasha doesn’t pull away and she doesn’t slow down, if anything, she picks up speed and hammers into your pussy so harshly you know you’ll be feeling these lingering touches for days afterward. You can’t bring it upon yourself to care though, and your hips attempt to meet her thrusts. “Please! Please!” 
“Hold it.” Natasha sounds desperate herself, and it's only when she increases the speed of the vibrator that you realize what she wants. She wants to cum together. She’s leaving today, in less than two hours, but she’s taking the time to be with you rather than packing her carry-on, and on top of that, she wants to cum together. You're drowning in adoration, blinded by pleasure, completely surrendering yourself to her and whatever she deems you worthy of receiving. “Just a little more, Daddy’s so close, baby. Gonna cum with Daddy? You gonna cum all over Daddy’s face and let her taste you before she leaves? Gonna let me remember the taste of your sweet pussy before I leave for the airport?”
“Please! Please, I want to cum for you!” You cry out, your blunt nails clawing at the skin of her neck and shoulders as you feel yourself beginning to crash over that blissful edge of satisfaction. Natasha doesn’t stop you this time, and with the slightest signal of permission as her fingers tap twice on your belly, you fall over that edge and gush around her fingers. 
“Good girl.” She coos, her breath caught in her throat as she comes down from her own high, wiggling away from the vibrator when the sensations become too much against her sensitive clit. “Such a good girl for me.” She praises you, rewarding you with a soft kiss against your throbbing clit. “Shh, let Daddy clean you up.” Natasha hums, pulling her fingers out of your pussy and replacing them with her tongue. You reach for her hand, knowing how much it drives her crazy when you suck your orgasm off of her fingers, and right now, you’re more than willing to please her in that way. Your tongue rolls between her knuckles, your teeth gently nibbling at her skin. You can barely feel her tongue cleaning you up as you devote yourself to her fingers, but you know she’s satisfied when she leans overtop of you and kisses you slowly, her lips damp with your arousal. 
“Morning, Natty.” You whisper shyly, threading your fingers through her hair in a much nicer manner now that you’re not desperate for release. She smiles and mumbles the same greeting against your lips, and though you can taste yourself on her tongue, you can also taste Wanda, and you have a feeling the Sokovian lawyer in the room just next door was woken up in the same fashion. “Can taste Wanda on you.” You giggle softly, shoving her away from you in favor of cuddling up into her chest and making the most of the next hour and a half. 
“She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Natasha teases, her fingers, still damp from your mouth, trace the smooth embellishments on your cheeks. She adores all of your imperfections, she’s guilty of running her thumb across the jagged scar on your hip whenever you wear shirts short enough to reveal the blemished skin, but something about her right now is so different then the many other times you’ve been in this position. You never want to leave her embrace but you know that you have to. You hate that you have to. “Wanda’s making breakfast. I have time for some coffee and pancakes before my flight.” 
“I don’t want you to leave. I can fit in your suitcase if I really try, I’m sure of it.” You plead with her, but despite her wanting to see you try, she shakes her head and kisses away the pout on your lips. 
“I think that counts as human trafficking. I might be the best lawyer in the world, but even I don’t have a good enough defense to get me out of those charges.” She teases, pulling you into an upright position so you won't fall asleep on her like you want to. 
“Piggyback down the stairs?” You question, rubbing your eyes with closed fists, another one of your habits that both Natasha and Wanda hate, but she doesn’t reprimand you today. 
“Of course, darling. Put your shorts back on and then I’ll bring you down.” Natasha kisses you one last time before she gently forces you off the guest bed and onto your own feet. You make quick work of redressing, forgoing the purple panties you had initially worn over last night, knowing that if she’d taken the time to edge you five times before you’d even woken up, that they were surely drenched and in need of multiple washes. Better yet, you might as well just throw them out. 
You clamber onto her back with a smile on your lips the second your shorts are back into place, giggling manically when she jostles you around and makes a show of running down the stairs two at a time, much to Wanda’s displeasure. Your sensitive core rubs against the seam of your pajama shorts and the muscles in her back, but you pay the tickling sensations no mind, desperate to just enjoy these last few moments in her company to the best of your abilities. 
“Do you still have a voice, malen’kiy? I’m pretty sure the neighbors heard you.” Wanda teased the second you and Natasha entered the kitchen, bringing an immediate scowl to your face. You kicked your foot out in her direction, knowing you’d miss but just wanting to retaliate in some way. “Do not act up with me, little one. Natasha can’t save you when she leaves.” 
“Don’t be a meanie then!” You stuck your tongue out at her, hardly realizing the grave you were digging for yourself. Tensions were high with the promise of Natasha leaving, there was no real malice behind your jabs, but just as your emotions were unruly, Wanda’s patience was thin. Your eyes went wide when she suddenly appeared so much closer than you remembered her being, and you anticipated her next move before she’d even acted, but unfortunately for you, you hadn’t been quick enough to pull your tongue back into the safety of your mouth before Wanda was pinching it between her thumb and pointer finger.  
“I understand you’re upset, but I will not tolerate this disobedience. If you want to join us for breakfast, you will knock it off now, otherwise I have no problem making you a plate and sending you to eat in the living room by yourself. Is that what you want, milyy?” You shook your head, but quickly regretted the decision when you remembered Wanda still held your tongue firmly. You whined, batting her hands away from your face but she was unrelenting, and if anything, her grip only got tighter. “If I see that tongue out again, you’re not going to like what happens.” She warned, and even though you wanted to call her bluff, Natasha’s tight grip on your ankles told you that was not a fire you wanted to play with today. 
You whined, thankful that she had stopped holding your tongue captive and had walked back toward the stove, but now you were left with the sickest feeling of embarrassment crawling up your spine. For as bratty as you tended to be, you hated being scolded. You attempted to hide away in Natasha’s neck, but Wanda seemed to have grown a third eye and was quick to reprimand your fleeting attempts to worm your way into Natasha’s good graces. 
“You do not get to hide. You wanted to be a brat, you can deal with the embarrassment of being reprimanded. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times, I am not as lenient as my wife, and I do not tolerate disobedience. Fix your pout, go sit down at the table, and wait quietly for me to finish your eggs.” Wanda pointed toward the already set table with her spatula, only briefly glancing back at you when she made the effort to reach for the salt and pepper shakers. 
“Wanna stay with Natty.” You pleaded quietly, not attempting to hide your face again, but still holding tightly onto your dominant who would be leaving for the airport in forty minutes. You didn’t even have a full hour left anymore. 
“I’ll be right there, go sit down. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Natasha lowered you onto the ground, softly kissing your temple before she patted your bottom and guided your shoulders in the direction of the table just beyond the threshold of the kitchen. Wanda and Natasha were the only people you know that actively used their dining room for every meal they ate together. They even had a breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen with pretty blue placemats and a vase of fresh flowers as a centerpiece, but on the nights that you slept over, you’ve never even seen so much as a book be left on the table. 
You sighed, doing as was asked of you, if only for a handful of minutes before you headed straight back toward the kitchen. You could hear their whispered voices even from where you were meant to be sitting at the table, but what they were saying was practically indistinguishable. They were too far away and far too quiet to make out clearly, but you hoped it wasn’t about you. You hoped that you hadn’t completely ruined Natasha’s last morning at home before her business trip. You sighed softly, deciding against ignoring your anxiety, and slowly approached them again, your hands clasped in front of you. As much as you wanted to run straight toward Natasha and have her hold you, your eyes were trained on Wanda, waiting for her to notice your presence, though you knew she already had. Maybe she was waiting for you to make the first move, or maybe she was ignoring you because she thought you were deliberately disobeying her. She wasn’t your dominant, she wasn’t anything to you, not really at least, but somehow it felt wrong to disobey her so directly.  
“What is it, detka? Wanda asked you to sit at the table, did she not?” Natasha decided to throw you a bone after it was made clear that neither you nor Wanda were going to make the first move. You were both far too stubborn for your own good, but luckily enough, you had her to bridge the gap when neither of you were willing to give an inch. 
Your eyes flickered between both Natasha and Wanda, and softly, so softly, you found the strength to apologize. “M’sorry, Wanda.” You admitted weakly, looking down at your naked feet in a lash ditch effort to avoid her strong stare, not wanting to see her face if she decided to reject your apology and send you away again. “C-Can I stay here?” 
“Come here.” Wanda sighed softly, and you faintly recognized the sound of the spatula being set down and placed on the countertop. When you looked up from your feet, still avoiding Wanda’s eye but no longer trying to make yourself seem small, you noticed that the eggs were done cooking, piled up onto a serving plate and resting near a pitcher of orange juice that you had no doubt was freshly squeezed and organic from the local farmers market, though it lacked pulp much to your delight. Natasha was a freak when it came to how she liked her orange juice, but you were glad to see that at least somebody who permanently occupied a space in this house had some sanity. “I didn’t send you over there as a punishment, detka. You needed to breathe, and now that you have, you feel better don’t you?” 
You nodded your head, because admittedly you did feel a little bit better now that you had taken a couple of minutes to put space between yourself and Wanda and all the big sad feelings you had no choice but to shuffle through. You still wrung your fingers together and looked everywhere but Wanda’s eye, but you definitely felt better. You could see Natasha’s smile in your peripheral vision, and you exhaled softly at the confirmation that you hadn’t completely ruined everything, another weight falling off of your shoulders. 
“Did being over there make you anxious because you could hear us talking and you thought it was about you?” Wanda tested the waters, and your head snapped up to look at her with pure bewilderment in your expression. “Aren’t you the one who calls me a witch, shouldn’t you expect for me to know everything that goes on in that pretty little head?” 
“Yeah.” You grimaced slightly. You didn’t know she had caught onto your less than creative nickname for her, but apparently she had and had just accepted it without complaint, or maybe she had complained to Natasha, but she wasn’t saying anything to you about it now. You felt bad, not normally someone who resorted to name calling when you were around someone you didn’t like, but Wanda just made you so… annoyed, for lack of a better adjective.  
“Good job recognizing that.” She praised you lightly, and as much as you didn’t want to, you glowed beneath her positive attention, your eyes flickering to Natasha as if to ask her if she was actually hearing the same thing as you. The auburn-haired woman laughed at your expression, merely shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. “Ah, not looking at Natasha, looking at me. Good girl.” Wanda gently scolded, and your cheeks flushed at her continuous praise. If someone would've told you that when you’d gotten into this situation that Wanda would be the one dishing out praise while Natasha stood silently on the sidelines, you would’ve laughed in their face. “Come here, I made Natty and I’s pancakes, but you can make yours.” 
“I can help?” You light up at the suggestion, eager to get your hands on the bowl of batter that was waiting on the side of the stove, and you definitely spotted chocolate chips sitting right beside it. Neither Wanda nor Natasha had any specs of brown on their breakfast, so you wondered if those had been taken down just for you. 
“If you promise not to splash batter everywhere.” Wanda hummed, and her eyes flickered briefly over to Natasha who was less than amused at the unneeded comment. 
“It was one time! And it was your fault! Who comes up behind someone in the middle of making pancakes!” Natasha exclaimed in playful exasperation, though her wide smile betrayed her faux annoyance. 
“And what is throwing pancake batter going to do if I had been the intruder you claimed to think I was? Was your plan to avoid being murdered by offering them a nice homemade breakfast?” Wanda rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to Natasha’s cheek before she focused her attention back to you. “Bring the eggs to the table, Natasha.” 
“Bring the eggs to the table, Natasha. Wash my car in the middle of a snowstorm, Natasha. Find a way to make elephants purple, Natasha.” The woman droned on in an accent similar to Wanda’s, though there was a distinguishable difference in her tone. With her Russian roots, she couldn’t quite master the Sokovian accent, but she certainly tried her best. Her mocking was more or less ignored, though Wanda did threateningly snap a dish towel in her direction and wordlessly pointed toward the dining room. “I thought this was my going away breakfast and yet I’m being put to work.” 
“You have thirty minutes to eat, and unless you’d like me to let you get on a plane starving, you’ll do as I ask.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but her attention was no longer on her dramatic wife. Instead, she was entirely focused on you and guiding you through the motions of pouring the remaining pancake batter into the already hot and sizzling pan. You giggled when the smallest bit of batter splattered out of the pan, landing on the skin of your hand though you were grateful it wasn’t yet hot.
“Can I put chocolate chips in it?” You bounced on your toes excitedly, already reaching for the bag despite not yet having Wanda’s permission. Natasha was strictly against you eating sugary things for breakfast when you had classes to focus on, but it seems Wanda didn’t share the same concerns, because she hummed her approval seconds before your hand dipped into the bag. 
“Do you want some pancake with your chocolate, honey?” Wanda laughed, and for once, you didn’t get offended by her teasing, just craned your neck and offered her the brightest smile you could muster. “If you can’t pay attention in class today, we will not be having chocolate chip pancakes on weekdays again. Got it, dove?” 
“Got it!” You giggled, not really paying attention to her anyways. You were entirely too busy making sure that your single pancake didn’t burn as a result of the too high heat and combined culinary negligence, though every couple of seconds you snuck a handful of chocolate chips into your mouth and hummed as they melted on your tongue. They bought the good chocolate, that shouldn’t have surprised you. 
“I can see you, you are aware of that, aren’t you?” Wanda laughed, but there was no bite to her taunt, and again you found that it didn’t bother you like it usually did. If she had wanted you to stop eating the chocolate chips, she would’ve asked you to, but she quite enjoyed seeing you so carefree and happy with the ongoing promise of Natasha’s departure looming heavily in the air around you both. 
“Do you want one?” You replied coyly, holding up your hand for her to see. There was in fact a singular chocolate chip pinched between your fingers, and while Wanda wanted to roll her eyes and remind you that she had been the one to purchase them in the first place, she settled for simply accepting your offer. Her way of accepting your offer however, had not been what you’d had in mind, and you’d flinched in shock when her teeth grazed the knuckles of your fingers and her tongue corralled the single piece of chocolate into her mouth. “That– That is not what I meant!” You blushed a ferocious shade of red, quickly turning back around and focusing your attention on the pancake that had finally finished cooking. 
“Stop teasing her, Wands!” Natasha’s voice called out from the dinning room where she had remained throughout the entire ordeal, but you could hear the amusement in her tone and wondered if she could see the both of you from wherever she was standing. 
“Yeah, Wands.” You giggled, poking your tongue out at the lawyer before you remembered her earlier words and your face dropped. “Sorry!” 
“She stuck her tongue out at you again, didn’t she?” Natasha’s voice filled your ears, and the sound of her laughter followed shortly after, but you were too mortified to smile at the sound. You turned around to look at Wanda nervously, noting that her hands were on her hips and her perfectly manicured nails glimmered beneath the bright lighting and unfiltered sunlight. Her eyebrow was quirked perfectly, and you wondered how long she had practiced that expression until she was sure it was perfect. She had her intimidation tactics down pat, but you supposed that came with owning the world's most successful law firm.  
“Sorry! I really didn’t mean to!” You pleaded with her to believe you, knowing that the time you could spend with Natasha was slowly dwindling, and you really did not want to spend the last few minutes of contact with Wanda mad at you. 
The stern expression on the lawyer's face melted away like it had never been there in the first place, and Wanda laughed so sweetly you were almost absolutely certain that you’d somehow missed a joke Natasha murmured from the dining room. You pouted in confusion, digging your toe into the hardwood floor and flickering your gaze down to watch. 
“You’re fine, detka. Thank you for apologizing, but I know you were just teasing, huh?” She smiled, lifting your chin to meet your gaze. She kissed your forehead, something she had only ever done when you were half-asleep or entirely fucked out, but you couldn’t deny, even though you desperately wanted to, that it felt nice, comforting even. “Get those pancakes into the dining room before they get cold. Natty only has a couple more minutes before her driver gets here.” 
And once again you were faced with the unavoidable truth. Natasha was leaving for fourteen days and there was nothing you could do to stop it. 
-
The first five days without Natasha had gone as well as had been expected, though you would say you were faring significantly better than she’d ever anticipated. Even Wanda, who you had seen a handful of times throughout the week when you escaped to the Maximoff residence to work in your newly established office, had been surprised at your composure. The older woman of the couple had never been away for so long, usually capping her trips at three to five days, and even that was challenging for you to accept in the beginning of your relationship, but you were handling the distance well and with pride, being her strong girl like you’d promised to be. You talked daily, and though you didn’t hear her voice as much as you would like, she’d made the time to FaceTime twice so far. Just because she didn’t have the time to call didn’t mean you missed out completely on what activities she was up to though. She made sure to send you plenty of pictures of the scenery, and you’d all but gushed over the resort she was staying at when she sent you a picture of the sunset from her room. There were at least twenty pictures of Bahama sunrises in your camera roll now, but your favorite pictures were the ones you got at random throughout the day that were nonsensical and entirely her. She sent you pictures of her outfits and of her drinks when she managed to escape to the bar after whatever meetings had given her a headache. She’d managed to get her hands on a pina colada in a coconut on the second day of her trip, and although the bendy straw was yellow not pink, you forgave her and asked how it was. Your most favorite pictures however, were the ones of her notes. You’d expected the CEO of a successful law firm to take detailed and attentive notes, but every time she sent you a picture of her notebook, the pages were filled with random doodles of flowers and stick people, and yours and Wanda’s name in different squiggly styles. You held those closest to your chest, because even if you were just her submissive, she was thinking about you the same way she was thinking about Wanda, her wife. 
Your academic workload hadn’t lightened in the last five days, but you’d been juggling classes and routine well, somehow managing to balance studying and homework as seamlessly as anyone who made the decision to overload in a Spring semester could manage. You had hours of homework a night, research papers and historical annotations never giving you a break, but the end was in sight, and for a while, that simple fact had been enough to keep you pushing through. You knew Natasha would be proud of your grades at the end of the semester, and you had been anticipating the praise and reward she was sure to provide, but that all came crashing down after your last lecture of the night. Your professor, Sharan Carter, had berated you for your complaints about your group project, but not only that, she had failed you. Her reasoning had been that you did not adhere to the guidelines of the assignment, claiming that you made no effort to work alongside your partners, and even though she had a small novel of proof in her email history that debunked that accusation, she hadn’t wanted to hear your side of the story, and had sent you out of her office with the dismissive shake of her head. 
All you had wanted in that moment of shame and defeat was Natasha, and although you knew she was over a thousand miles away on a tropical island, probably stiff as a board in some multi-hour meeting that she had no real care for, you had gotten in your car and driven straight to the Maximoff residence. Your hands were trembling at your sides, and it would appear to anyone who even glanced at you too quickly that you’d been caught in a sporadic storm with how damp your cheeks were from the tears that defied your attempts to keep them at bay. Your hands were trembling so violently that you couldn’t get the key in the hole, and dissimilar from how the front door remained unlocked until lights out when Natasha was home, you found that Wanda was in the habit of locking it each and every time she left and entered. The thought of the Sokovian lawyer made a sob crawl past your lips, and feverishly you knocked on the door, hoping she could hear you from wherever she was in the house. You didn’t care about how you were supposed to hate her. You didn’t care about the rivalry that existed between the two of you, though it was slowly becoming an afterthought as the days passed. She was the only source of comfort you had right now, and as you waited on the porch, shaking like a leaf in the middle of a hurricane, you yearned for her touch and her citrusy scent. 
When the door opened, and the quickest glimpse of Wanda’s burgundy hair flashed before your eyes, there wasn’t a second of hesitation that crossed your mind before you stepped past the threshold of where their porch met the entryway and dug yourself into the lawyer’s chest, desperately clutching at her t-shirt. Agonizing sobs further shake your already trembling body, and you barely recognize the weight of her hands slinking around your waist and drawing you in closer to her chest as you finally let yourself fall apart completely. 
“S-She failed me.” You sobbed into Wanda’s arms, acutely aware of how silly you probably came across to the businesswoman as you allowed yourself to become so distraught over something as trivial as a project grade, but the combination of academic failure and Natasha’s absence had entirely demolished your reserve. “A-And you told me to t-tell you if she didn’t listen to me! So I am! I did! I’m telling you! A-And Natty’s not here, and I’m so tired, and she failed me and it dropped my entire semester grade to a D! A-And I just, I just wanted Nat, and I don’t even know why I came because I know she’s not here, b-but then I got here and I just wanted you, and-and-and-” 
“Shh,” Wanda soothed you gently, effectively stopping you from working yourself up even further than she thought possible with your practically incomprehensible rambling and heartbreaking tears. Her gentle hands rub patterns onto your back that you were only vaguely aware of in your state of upset, but eventually the combination of her physical presence and dull beating of her heart in your ear calms you down enough to allow you to suck in a sharp gasp of air. “You’re okay. You’re okay, sweetheart. Just take a deep breath for me, okay? Good girl.” 
You melted into Wanda’s embrace as she continued to hold you tight, one of her ringed hands eventually trailing up your spine until it found a home at the back of your head. She pressed your face into her neck, not caring about how your wet cheeks made her skin damp and sticky, just wanting to keep you close until she was absolutely certain that you had calmed down enough to breathe normally. Even if you hadn’t realized how close you were to tipping over the edge and into a full episode of panic, Wanda had, and it scared her half to death to see you so distraught and beside yourself. Up until this very moment, she’d never even considered how she would miss your sarcastic quips and ruthless banter, but opening her front door to find you a mere shell of the woman you usually were had been horrifying and not something she ever wanted to relive. 
Eventually, you pulled away from her embrace, wanting to wipe your cheeks free of tear tracks and mascara, and desperate to breathe in the fresh scent of blossoming spring that surrounded the suburban roads of Westview. Wanda smelled heavenly, she was positively addicting with her coconut mandarin mix, but fresh air was non negotiable in your current state, and greedily you breathed in through your nose deeply until that suffocating feeling in your chest became a simple buzz. It was then that you realized Wanda was wearing her blue light glasses, and your gut clenched in guilt, realizing that she’d been working up until your little meltdown.  
“Fuck, you were working. I’m sorry.” You apologized quickly, a fresh onslaught of tears brimming your eyes. You couldn’t seem to do anything right today, and so desperately you wished that Natasha were here to make it all better, despite knowing the luck of your day had nothing to do with the physical presence of one single person. 
“No more tears. No more tears, detka.” Wanda coaxes you farther into the house, not allowing you to back away and retreat toward your car like you’d been attempting to do since realization sunk in. “Nat told you to come over whenever, I’m glad you remembered that. I know I’m not Natasha, sweet girl. I wish I could bring her back for you, but for right now, why don’t you tell me what you need, hm? Can you do that?” 
“You’re working. It’s important if you're working at home this late.” You whispered shamefully, not wanting to be the reason Wanda falls behind on deadlines. You know it’s her company and she can do whatever she damn well pleases, pushing off a few measly emails included in that long list of possibilities, but you would feel horrible if your childish breakdown caused more work and stress for both her and Natasha in the future. 
“It is important, you’re right about that, malysh. Darcy fucked up big time with a client, and now I need to fix her mess before they ask for her release, and I won’t be able to argue with them if it comes to that, but nothing is more important then your wellbeing, so can you talk me through what you need?” Wanda gently cupped your cheeks in the same manner that Natasha usually does when you're in this state, and you felt a pang of sadness rush through you as you realized the true extent of how much you missed her. You’d been pushing off the sadness and grief that came with her absence, but you couldn’t avoid it forever, and apparently it had decided to catch up with you now. 
“Water. Natty always makes me drink water after and she… she holds me.” You admitted shyly, afraid of Wanda’s reaction to what you were indirectly asking of her, but all she did was smile at you reassuringly and lead you in toward the kitchen, the wide open front door forgotten about for a few short moments. 
Wanda makes quick work of filling a glass for you, not letting go of your hand for more than a necessary second throughout the entire process, for which you were grateful. You were absolutely certain that if she let go now, you’d spiral back down into that isolating pit of never ending thoughts. She pours herself a glass as well, though hers is taller than yours. She takes a sip before motioning for you to do the same, watching you intently over the rim of her glasses that have started to slip down the bridge of her nose. The cold water feels marvelous on your throat when you finally raise the glass to your lips and take a small sip, having not realized how scratchy and stiff it was as a result of your crying. 
“Would you like to sit in with me as I finish up with the paperwork?” Wanda questions you, her tone indicative of your freedom to decline her offer and ask for something else, but you wouldn’t even dream about saying no to her right now. 
“I can?” You asked meekly, shuffling on your feet nervously. 
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I wasn’t being truthful, dorogoy. I know you’re worried about me falling behind, so I figured I could hold you in my lap for a while until I finish up everything that needs to get done. Does that sound like a good plan?” Wanda checked in with you, her thumb rubbing comforting circles on your knuckles. Her touch on your hand is a stark contrast from how she’d last grabbed you when you were in the kitchen together, but it feels nice and you don’t ever want to pull away from it. 
“The front doors still open.” You remind her, and she laughs softly at your concern for the door, guiding you back into the living room and toward the entryway. She closes the door with a soft push, making sure that both locks are clicked before she even considers turning toward the stairs and leading you up toward her office. She may be a capable woman, but a home intruder felt like something she wasn’t quite qualified to deal with. 
“There, all better.” She smiled down at you, leaning in just close enough to brush her lips against your forehead. “Do you need anything else before we head up to my office? It might take a couple of hours before I have everything completed.” 
“No.” You decline her offer, shuffling closer into her embrace when you ultimately decided she was too far away. Your free hand was still holding onto the glass of water, and you were careful not to spill any of it as you moved.
“Okay then, bug. Let’s go.” She squeezed your hand tightly, slowly leading the way toward her office despite your familiarity with the route. You didn’t complain about her slow pace, taking the time to really admire the subtle details of her home that you overlooked when you were busy chasing Natasha around. 
The Maximoff residence was luxuriant and abundant to put it gently. There were large windows in both the kitchen and the living room that allowed sunlight to pour in at every hour of the day and coat the furniture in golden hues. There were subtle traces of both Wanda and Natasha’s separate personalities in the decor that filled bookshelves and countertops, but for the most part, their style blended together superbly. It wasn’t obnoxious or over-the-top, no, it was done so tastefully that you thought the interior of the house belonged in some high class magazine that showcased celebrity homes. The accents of black in their appliances and metal hardware that were undoubtedly Natasha’s doing, but you thought it fit perfectly with the presently white walls and light colored wood. Wanda had more to do with the furnishing if her office was any indication. While Natasha’s furniture was practical and bare, Wanda spared no expense in assuring her office was both functional and comfortable. Their subtle differences were what made them work as both romantic and business partners so well, and you hoped that one day you’d be lucky enough to find a love like theirs.  
“You still with me, sweetheart?” Wanda checked in, effectively drawing you out of your head that you’d somehow gotten lost in, but your thoughts weren’t unpleasant, and the ghost of a smile on your lips assured Wanda that you were fine. 
“Did Nat pick the black hardware?” You questioned softly, following Wanda as she stepped into her office and closed the door behind you both. 
The woman laughed at your question, having expected hardware to be the last thing on your mind, but she nodded her head. “She did. I wanted gold.” 
“I like it. I could tell she picked it. You picked the furniture.” You mumbled, glad to be talking about something other than your breakdown. You didn’t know what you expected when you originally sought Wanda out for comfort, but you were glad she was just rolling with the punches as they came. 
“Very attentive, little one. I did.” When she sat down in her office chair, setting her water down carefully a good few inches away from her keyboard, she turned to you expectantly, patting her lap with a silent invitation. She pried the glass of water from your grip, placing it next to hers, and you realized then that she had gotten down two different glasses on purpose. “Get comfy, we might be here a while.” 
You sank into her lap tentatively, unsure of how she liked to be held. You practically koala’d yourself around Natasha whenever she allowed you to keep her company in her office, but you’d never cuddled like this with Wanda before, and you didn’t want to make her feel suffocated with your clinginess. So instead, you settled for resting your cheek against her chest, the crown of your head tucked beneath her chin, and you kept your arms pinned between your chests. You could feel her every inhale as she breathed, and you quickly decided that you liked this position. 
“Before you get too sleepy, I need the name of your professor, malen’kiy.” Wanda rubbed your back with a heavy palm, making note of the fact that you seemed to have forgone a bra when getting dressed that morning. You were just like Natasha in that way, and she found a gentle smile gracing her features at the subtle similarities between the two of you. It was no wonder you fit together like a glove, you were practically replicas of each other in the little aspects of your interests and personalities. 
“Sharon Carter.” You mumbled, entirely too content to really care about how you were basically feeding the woman to wolves with your admission of her name. Wanda would rip her to shreds when she got her claws on her, you were sure of that fact, but she deserved it after the harsh and unnecessary comments she’d made. 
“Carter, huh.” There was something in Wanda’s tone that implied she was familiar with the woman, or at the very least her last name, but you didn’t care all that much about whatever was going through her head. 
“Shh.” You silenced her, snuggling deeper into her chest and clutching the hem of her t-shirt between your fingers, wanting to rest in silence for the next couple of hours. 
Amused with your antics, Wanda pressed a kiss to the top of your head before she got back to business, the only sound that filled the office was the rhythmic clicking of her keyboard as her fingers worked feverishly to resolve the issue that Darcy had created. It wasn’t even a full ten minutes before you were sound asleep against her chest, your deep and even breaths tickling the exposed skin of Wanda’s chest, but she didn’t care as long as you were feeling better. 
Your relationship shifted that night. It wasn’t perfect, not yet at least, but you couldn’t deny that Wanda had somehow wormed her way into your heart, or maybe, just maybe, she had always had a place in it to begin with.
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wandasaura · 5 months
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�� THE QUIET GAME
summary — nobody can beat wanda at her own game, but that doesn’t stop you from trying, and roping natasha into your little game much to her amusement
warnings — dom!wanda maximoff, flirting, dom/sub undertones, semi-public sex (nobody’s around), nipple play, finger sucking, face slapping (once), thigh grinding, fingering (r receiving), degrading, praise, slight begging, edging, aftercare, implied past relationship with natasha, smut minors/men dni
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
Wanda was livid, you could tell from across the room, the dim overhead lighting just bright enough to create a million little rainbows reflecting off the sequins of her skimpy black dress and the kink in her jaw as she grinded her teeth together. It was rare to see your girlfriend so dressed up and out of her element — usually sporting a more masculine appearance in various shades of red — but tonight was a special night, and she always strived to outdo the company.
She became the most beautiful woman in the room the second you opened the double doors upon your arrival, hand and hand, standing shoulder to shoulder, both dressed to stun in dresses that left little to the imagination. She’d had no reservations about your scanty red dress, but her sage eyes had been hungry and dark with lust since the initial glance she stole of your put together look before you left the apartment. You’re her most prized possession and all of your friends know it, some more inclined to tease the hardened witch about her soft spot for you then others, but that didn’t quell her insistence to make your relationship known to every stranger who attended; proud to show off what was only hers. Throughout the night, she’d kept a hand on your your hip, whispering into the shell of your ear knowing how it looked and how it made your legs quiver. Throughout the night, she’d been working you up to the point of no return.
When you separated after too many cocktails and not nearly enough fancy horderves to keep up with your alcohol intake that left your cheeks flush and palms sweaty (not by any choice of your own or hers, merely Tony’s elaborate plan to trap his billionaire friends into donating to the Potts Project) your attention had been solely on her and memorizing the way that the light shaped to her sinful body, cleavage glistening and full for anyone to gawk at. And they did. You’d caught a handful of guests ogling the deep neckline of her dress too many times to remain unbothered and composed, and while you knew the only one she was even looking at beneath the yellow toned lighting was you, the offered drinks and fleeting touches to her waist from arrogant men that thought they could get a piece of what was yours, sparked a fire of jealousy you didn’t want to ignore.
It was no secret that these events led to some of the best sex you had in your relationship, a result of spending the long hours of the night too enraptured with each other's bodies to pay soft touches and patience any mind when you finally had the chance to come undone beneath one another, but tonight was different. Tonight you couldn’t play by her rules and watch from a distance as she floated around and socialized, no, tonight you’d play the long game of getting so beneath her skin she wouldn’t be able to wait until you returned home for a piece of you.
That jealousy was what ended you up in such a flirtatious exchange with Natasha, the redheaded widow painfully aware of yours and Wanda’s relationship (she’d walked in on you too many times to deem them all accidents), but she was more than happy to play along with your game, finding sadistic entertainment in the not-so-subtle expressions your otherwise unshakable girlfriend sent her way. With a possessive grip on your hip, chest flush against yours, nose only one accidental stumble away from yours, Natasha was playing with fire, and you were malleable to her every move. Your history with her was only an advantage in this situation as you stole glances at Wanda from across the room, not surprised to find that she was watching you intensely, clutching the stem of her wine glass so tight her knuckles had turned white, lips pursed into a thin line and when you caught her eye, you dared to smile innocently. When Natasha’s calloused thumb brushed against your bottom lip to draw your attention back to her, Wanda’s final straw snapped, and the redhead teasing your body with sensual touches merely chuckled darkly at the approaching footsteps of your possessive girlfriend.
You didn’t break eye contact with Natasha even when you felt the warmth of her body press against yours, her wine glass having been shoved into some poor unsuspecting waiter's chest during her pursuit. “Let’s go.” Her words were cynical, heavy even, but you’d only just started having fun, and Natasha wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.
The redhead pulled you closer, so close that you could smell the mojito on her breath, creating space between you and Wanda who hadn’t been quick enough to grab the other side of your waist when she had the chance. “Look who finally has the time for me.” You joked with Natasha, running a wandering hand down the front of her chest where the buttons of her suit jacket revealed milky skin. She was always so pale, even in the summertime, but the deep color of her suit complimented her complexion nicely, and sharpened the deep green of her eyes and redness of her freshly dyed curls. She’d been blonde only three days prior, but her changing appearance wasn’t anything new at this point. Twirling a strand between your fingers, you bit into your bottom lip. “You have time for me, don’t you, Natty?”
“Always, detka.” The redhead smirked, leaning her forehead against yours, bold enough to slide her hands down your waist and grab at your barely covered ass. Wanda seethed behind you, green eyes flashing red as she glared at your best friend and grabbed your wrist before you could go exploring Natasha’s body again. You had the audacity to giggle when she started pulling you away and toward the exit, wiggling your fingers at the widow who sent you a knowing wink, stumbling over to Maria who had watched the entire scene play out behind a bottle of beer, lips upturned in a smirk. You’d get an earful tomorrow afternoon when you returned to the office, but for now, the only thing you cared about was getting your girlfriend undressed and beneath your touch.
“Hi.” You grinned sweetly, voice dripping with lust as you peered up at her clenched jawline and flared nostrils. She was pissed, and a pissed off Wanda was exactly the woman you needed tonight. Her hand was still tight around your wrist, grabbing at you not hard enough to hurt, but giving you no other choice but to follow after her as she dodged guests and furniture.
You’d never been to this specific venue, Tony preferring to host these events in the compound where the only liability was a broken vase that he didn’t really care about anyway, but still, she maneuvered you both through the building like she’d mapped it all out, footsteps only slowing when she had you confined to a single use bathroom down the hall from the main ballroom. In seconds your back was flush against the door, breath knocked from your lungs as you peered up at her with blown out pupils and a hungry smirk.
She didn’t give you the time to make a sarcastic comment, you’d made enough of them already if she had any say in it, but you would never complain about the feverish way she leant in to kiss you, and how her tongue tasted like your favorite cocktail as it brushed against yours. You fought for dominance as your teeth clashed together and your tongues danced to explore the others mouth, fighting to be the lead, but it was no surprise that she won. A heavy moan filled the echoey bathroom when her body warm pressed into yours, leaving you helpless to her assault that you truthfully didn’t really mind. You kissed her back just as aggressively, hands finding their way into her loose locks that fell down her shoulders in simple and natural waves, and you tugged on it in a desperate plea for something more. Anything more.
She chuckled darkly when she pulled away, bringing her decorated fingers toward your face. Her rings sparkled beneath the automatic lights, silver jewelry complimenting her midnight black dress. In any other setting, you would’ve told her she looked beautiful, but you were desperate to reach a high only she could give you, and she seemed to be taking her sweet time in working you up. Just like Natasha had, her calloused thumb brushed across your swollen and wet bottom lip, collecting the wetness that had gathered from your kiss before she forced it into your mouth. The digit felt heavy on your tongue, but not unfamiliar, and without hesitation you began to suck, eyelids fluttering closed at the warm feeling the sheer dominance of the action sent through your body and straight to your already sopping core. You could feel your arousal soaking through your panties, thighs wet and pressed together as you sought out any kind of relief. Wanda gazed at you with stars in her eyes, but her delicacy didn’t last long before she was forcing your legs apart with her thigh, pressing right up into your needy core. The pressure on your clit felt heavenly, your hips grinding to find the right friction without her permission.
She didn’t stop you, letting you hump her leg like a needy slut, instead focusing her attention on the way you hollowed out your lips around her thumb and kitten licked around her ring, eyes pinched shut as your breathing became heavier. “You think you’re so funny.” She sneered, using her pointer finger to tilt your head upward, revealing your unmarked neck. She’d change that. Her red lips didn’t waste a second, and her teeth weren’t gentle as she nipped and licked at your sensitive skin, working her way up toward the shell of your ear where you were the most reactive. You shuddered violently when she licked a bold strip up the side of your neck, blowing out cold air that made goosebumps prick the skin of your arms. Your grinding only became sloppier as your clit pulsates with need, pathetic whines vibrating her thumb and fueling her actions. “You think you can let Natasha touch what’s mine. Think I don’t know what you’re doing. I know everything, malyshka. I know what makes you moan,” She bit down on your earlobe, tugging at it gently with her teeth, and unable to help yourself, you arched into her chest, moaning desperately.
“I know what makes you whine,” The hand that wasn’t occupied snaked between your bodies, and sought out your barely hidden nipples, pebbled from the cold and your turned on state. Your whines were music to her ears as she tugged and twisted at your sensitive buds overtop of the thin dress, not bothering to shove it out of the way like you wanted. Your nipples were always so sensitive, it was one of Wanda’s favorite ways to work you up to a quick orgasm when you didn’t have the time to be fooling around, but that wasn’t her intention tonight. Just like you’d decided to do, she was playing the long game.
“I know what makes you gasp,” Her thumb made an obnoxiously loud sound as she pulled it from the warm confines of your mouth, but before you had time to process the loss, her palm was colliding with your cheek and the sting on your flushed skin replaced the weight of her heavy digit. You gasped, just like she expected you to, peering at her with wide eyes and an entirely fucked out expression despite not actually being touched yet. Her thigh was saturated in your arousal, the scent thick in the air but it couldn’t be blamed on only you. Her own panties, black like the color of her dress because she was ever the meticulous woman, we’re so drenched they stuck to her folds, but her attention was on you right now, because clearly that’s all you wanted, and who was she to deny you anymore?
“What? Did you just need me to pay you attention? Is that it?” She cooed mockingly, pulling her thigh away from your core just as you found the perfect rhythm, disrupting your climbing high before you could fall over the edge into bliss. You whined pathetically, hips frantically searching for her again. “Are you such a desperate little slut you couldn’t get through one evening without needing this little pussy fucked?” You gasped when her hand cupped your mound, skilled fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties and toying at your sensitive clit. “You spent the last hour mouthing off to Natasha, when you could’ve just told me what you needed.”
“P-Please.” You stumbled over your words, breathy moans like music to her ears as she sank two fingers into your willing hole, feeling just how worked up you’d gotten yourself since arriving. You squeezed at her fingers, walls fluttering with desperation as her thumb set a brutal pace on your clit, entirely to soft and slow to bring you to where you wanted to be.
Attempting to take matters into your own hands, you pushed on her fingers that worked at scissoring you open, caressing your velvety walls like she was trying to study you. “Oh no, you don’t get to rush me now. You lost that privilege the second you let her touch what belongs to me.” Wanda’s other hand held your hips flush against the door you were pinned against, keeping her pace slow and torturous and entirely unsatisfying. “We’re gonna play a little game.”
“N-No.” You shook your head frantically, your hands scratching at her exposed shoulders, trying to wrestle them down her arms to free her breasts that had been taunting you all night. Even in her aggression, she still looked beautiful, and you cursed the tight fabric of her dress for holding her in so perfectly. “Wanda please, p-please.” You moaned loudly when her fingers found that perfect spot inside of you, pressing into it teasingly, before they were pulled away. She let them slip past your lips, filling your mouth with the taste of your own juices that glistened on her palm and smeared against your chin.
“Unless you want someone to hear how desperate you sound, you’re going to stay quiet. The second you make a noise I stop, do you understand me?” She pulled her fingers out of your mouth, satisfied with how you’d cleaned them off only for her to get them dirty again. You nodded frantically, desperate to have her back where you needed her most. Your walls fluttered around nothing, that deep ache in your belly nearly unbearable as you’d been left right on the edge twice already. “Good girl. What do you say if you need a break?”
Your heart melted at the tender care she showed, a crack in her facade as she let the both of you exist in a single gentle moment of care and respect. She may be rough when she’s pissed, she may slap you around and drag out your pleasure for her own amusement, but she made sure that you knew you were really the one in charge during these exchanges. The second you asked her to stop, she would. But you trusted her enough to never go there. “Yellow. Red if I want you to stop, I know Wands. I trust you, just please touch me.”
She smirked sadistically, letting her hands roam your body filthily. You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress the moan that threatened to escape when she pulled at the neckline of your dress and revealed your sensitive nipples to the cold air abruptly. Her hot fingers were skilled in many ways, and still slightly damp from your mouth, they moved over your skin easily, tugging and pinching at your nipples with a practiced perfection. She knew exactly what you liked and what made you go crazy, and she was using every skill in the book to get you to break. When her mouth found your left breast, kissing all over the warm and silky skin that she’d spent twenty minutes fondling before you’d even left for the event, you almost broke. Your knees weakened, your belly quivered with need as she kissed and sucked at every inch of skin beside where you really wanted her. When her lips finally encased your erect bud, a wave of relief crashed over you, but was replaced in seconds by an unmet desire. Her teeth bit ar your nipple, tugging until you didn’t think you could take it anymore, but she knew what you could take, and before you could tap at her shoulder, she was letting go and soothing the ache with her skilled tongue. A shaky breath escaped your lips before you could help it, and immediately she was letting go of you completely, leaving you to stand by yourself against the door.
“What did I say?” Her green eyes that were black with lust glared at you, her words sounding so far away as you arched away from the door and tried to persuade her to come back.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please. Please Wands, just touch me.” Your eyes were unfocused and hazy, head spinning as you pined for touch. The long game had definitely come back to bite you in the ass, nobody fucked with Wanda Maximoff and won, but you were too drunk on her touch to care about how you’d walked yourself into this.
“You make another sound and we’re going back out there until the end of the night.” She laid out her ultimatum, words slurring together with the faintest hint of her accent coming out to play as she admired your frantic stare and flushed cheeks, looking absolutely ravenous as you anticipated her touch. You nodded frantically, desperate to win her over, although you both knew she was going to resume either way. Natasha could only work you up so much, but she was the one who made you come undone with the lightest touch, and that was enough to motivate her into continuing.
This time when her fingers returned to your core, she wasn’t as gentle, thumb heavy on your clit as her fingers teased around your entrance, not daring to fill you up how you wanted without making you earn it. She pulled at the waistband of your thong until it snapped, flimsy purple fabric falling down your sweaty thigh to be forgotten about on the tile floor, and finally without the tight barrier that only gave her so much room to work in the way, she set an unforgiving pace that had your head spinning and thighs shaking as she reached the deepest part of your pussy with ease and talent that Natasha never had during all of your hookups. The wet noises that came from your center should’ve been embarrassing, but you couldn’t think about how anybody that happened passed by the door could definitely hear them, focused solely on the way her palm slapped against your clit at just the right pressure and pace, her breath tickling your lips as she leaned in close and rested her forehead against yours. Your hands reached out for her, desperate to have something to ground yourself to as you felt the spring in your core begin to tighten immensely. Her red hair was tousled and frizzy from your desperate pulling, and it only got messier as one of your hands tangled into it again.
Wanda didn’t deny you, grabbing the hand that wasn’t in her hair, and holding it against her chest as she worked you through your orgasm, smiling sweetly as your chest rose and fell in quick succession, bottom lip bitten and flush from both the alcohol and your high. “You can make noise, it’s okay. Let me hear you, it’s just us. It’s just us, malyshka.” Her gentle eyes flashed red, strong tendrils of magic encasing the room im her own makeshift sound barrier. The noise from the party quieted down, leaving only the sounds of your intimacy to be heard. With her permission to moan, you did just that, whining and gasping as you rode out your orgasm on her fingers, hips stuttering to both find a steady pace and pull away from the overstimulating sensations shooting down your spine.
When she pulled her hand away, fingers dripping in your juices, your cheeks flushed, only growing darker when she let them sink past her cherry red lips and weigh heavy on her tongue. She moaned at your taste, eyes twinkling as she made sure you were looking straight at her. When she was satisfied, she leaned in for a kiss, gentle and endearing as she let you work out whatever you needed, pulling back the reins of her dominance for the time being at least. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you looked up at her glassy green eyes.
“I love you, Wanda Maximoff.” You giggled, pecking her lips that your arousal clung to. The taste of yourself wasn’t something unfamiliar at this point in your relationship, but it never failed to make your belly tighten with gratitude that after everything in life, you found your way to her.
“I love you more.” She leaned up to peck your nose, smiling goofily. “We should invite Natasha over again.”
You laughed loudly at the suggestion, remembering the last time the redhead ended up in your bed when you were still living at the compound. She’d limped around for hours afterward, glaring daggers at Wanda from across the room every time she went to sit down.
“You know, she’s equally as guilty as I am.” Your eyes sparkled with mischief, a teasing smirk on your lips as you thought about the unstoppable Black Widow being forced to her knees by your giggly girlfriend.
“Watch it, or I’ll let her spank you with the paddle next time.” Wanda quipped, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to her lips, where her gaze lingered for a few seconds before looking back at you. “Maria’s going to be all over you tomorrow.”
“I guess I’ll just have to have something to brag about then.” You smirked, leading her out of the bathroom and out into the cold of winter. Your breath floated through the air as Wanda wrapped her arms around you, long coats forgotten about as you began to trek toward the car, eager to get home and help her reach her own high.
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