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The apartment was filled with sounds of the newest pop music Wanda had become obsessed with over the last few weeks. Natasha could hear the buzz through the walls as she grumbled at her shaking hands, struggling to fit her key into the lock.
When it finally gave way, she huffed lightly and entered the narrow hallway. Her steps were faint against the wooden floors, despite being in heels, and she lingered against the doorframe leading to the kitchen. She watched her wife hum along absentmindedly to the music and chuckled quietly to herself when Wanda messed up the melody and frowned.
Their eyes met after the witch lifted her head to look into the spice cabinet, deciding her sauce was nowhere near seasoned enough, and Wanda’s smile reached her eyes, revealing her uneven dimples.
“Hi moya lyubov’, how was the meeting?” Wanda’s voice was pure heaven to Natasha’s ears, who had only dealt with listening to stuck up, misogynistic, assholes all day.
Natasha simply shrugged, muscles tensing and face grimacing at the recollection of her horrible meeting with the self proclaimed businessmen.
She moved closer to Wanda, “It went fine, dorogoy.” A pause, a second of hesitation, “I missed you.”
Wanda turned away from the stove then, lowering the heat and closing the gap between the two of them.
She pulled Natasha into her warm embrace, the older woman immediately melting into a puddle at her soft touch and laying her head on Wanda’s shoulder. Two collective sighs escaped their lips at the long awaited contact.
“What happened Tasha, hm?” Wanda whispered into her hair, swaying them slightly to the music that had faded into background noise ages ago.
Wanda only received another halfhearted shrug in response and it was clear that Natasha wasn’t ready to talk about it. She held on tighter to Wanda’s waist and murmured tiredly, something she didn’t quite catch.
The witch’s hand traced soothing circles over the expanse of Natasha’s back, working the knots out that resided there, until Natasha was able to take in a real breath for the first time since she stepped into the office at an ungodly hour this morning.
”What do you need, baby?” The other hand situated on Natasha’s waist moved to cup her cheeks and tilt her chin upwards, Wanda’s thumb stroking flushed, pink, skin.
”You.” Natasha breathes out, almost whimpering at the desperation in her tone, taking the hand on her chin in her own and guiding it down her body until Wanda’s fingers reach the hem of her short, black skirt.
“Natalia.” Wanda asserts, eyebrows raised, accent thick and eyes hardening, “Are you sure this is what you want? Think very carefully right now.”
Natasha had never nodded so fast in her life, eager for something, anything, Wanda was willing to give her. She’s almost giddy with arousal, biting her lip to stop any embarrassing noises from leaving her tongue.
”Please.”
In a matter of seconds, Natasha’s skirt is hiked up over her stomach and her lace panties, that are absolutely soaked with need, are pulled to the side just enough for two of Wanda’s slim fingers to find their way inside Natasha’s warm, wet, heat.
The low groan Natasha lets out at the welcomed intrusion has Wanda smirking, and curling her fingers just right.
”This what you needed moya lyubov’? For me to put you back in your place? You don’t have to think now, baby, let mommy handle everything. You’re just too dumb to understand anything right now, aren’t you?” Wanda’s voice drips with faux sympathy.
The combination of Wanda’s harsh words and her fingers working miracles inside of her makes Natasha cry out, “Mommy!”
”Shh baby, you’re doing so well for me, just a little longer, okay?” Wanda praises softly, dipping her head to suck and nip at the skin of her wife’s neck.
Natasha nods at the sound of Wanda’s voice but doesn’t entirely listen to what she’s saying, all her attention diverted to the wet squelching of her pussy taking Wanda’s fingers time after time. The noise is downright sinful, and Natasha’s cheeks have become a permanent shade of red.
Wanda’s fingers don’t stop, pumping in and out mercilessly, hitting deeper with each thrust. Natasha’s willpower is crumbling rapidly and she’s so close to tipping over the edge. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.
“Please.” She nearly sobs out, legs trembling, “Mommy, please.”
”Let go, Natalia.” Wanda commands, her thumb brushing past Natasha’s neglected clit and consequently sending her full force into orgasm, hips rolling as she pushes herself even deeper onto Wanda’s fingers, riding them with reckless abandon.
Her eyes flutter shut, trying to catch her breath and collapsing into Wanda’s secure grasp.
Wanda pulls out and Natasha whimpers loudly while bucking her hips, desperate to fill the void now left between her thighs. In her current state, nothing else matters except Wanda, and the older woman reaches for her hand and places her slick fingers into her waiting mouth. She moans at the taste of herself on her tongue, licking Wanda’s skin clean.
”You did so well, baby. I’m so proud of you.” Wanda coos and the praise blankets her in a mountain of bliss.
Natasha mumbles incoherently around the lean fingers in her mouth, letting the waves of pleasure pass over her.
Wanda eventually detaches herself from Natasha’s iron grip, her fingers being released from her mouth, albeit reluctantly, with a wet pop. She forces her wife to drink a tall glass of water before pushing her in the direction of the bathroom so she can wash the day’s events away from and out her mind (as well as the wet mess inbetween her legs).
She watches Natasha exit the kitchen, a slight limp in her step as she does, and gives herself a mental pat on the back.
Wanda is just finishing up with dinner when Natasha’s bare feet tiptoe down the stairs and back into the room. Her red locks dampened by the shower and dripping down onto her baggy t-shirt. She holds her hairbrush to her chest, looking down at the ground to avoid eye contact.
”Wands.” Natasha utters softly, stifling a yawn.
”Yes, Natasha?” Wanda replies, head whipping around at the sound of her name.
”Would you…help me with my hair? Please?” Natasha asks, vulnerability crystal clear in her voice, and she swallows the lump forming down her throat.
Wanda’s stare softens at the question and she looks lovingly at her wife, “Of course I will, malyshka. Go sit down and I’ll be right there.”
Wanda’s hands work with careful precision, intertwining strands of Natasha’s hair to create a perfect dutch braid that falls down to her shoulder blades. While her hair is being treated with the utmost gentleness, Natasha also has a plate of food that she picks at every now and then.
”How’s that, moya lyubov’?” Wanda places a final kiss to the back of her head, before admiring her hard work.
”It’s beautiful dorogoy, thank you.” Natasha whispers, fingers delicately running along the plait and lips turning upwards into a lopsided grin.
The light chatter coming from the tv filled the otherwise silent living room, Wanda’s arms came to wrap around Natasha’s waist from behind, keeping her surrounded by warmth and the comfort of her wife’s presence. Wanda’s lips kissed every inch of skin available to her eyes, hot breath tickling the baby hairs on her neck, making Natasha sigh at the pleasure.
The shower of affection had Natasha tilting her head back and pulling Wanda’s mouth from her neck to connect their lips together instead. They both knew this dance like the back of their hand, having gone through the motions a countless number of times, and it never stopped being Natasha’s favourite way of decompressing. The way Wanda’s mouth felt against her own, her tiny hitches of breath when Natasha bit down on her lip faintly. It was hypnotic.
When they broke apart, their foreheads remained in contact, Natasha looked up at Wanda like she was the only thing that existed in the entire universe, so much love and adoration in her gaze.
”Thank you.”