grimeysociety

From behind the counter, Wanda raised an elegant brow. She was arranging bundles of sage, her fingers moving with unhurried grace, like she’d been expecting Darcy’s outburst all along. “Good evening to you too,” she said lightly, slipping the twine knot tight.

Darcy dropped into the nearest chair with a groan. “Sorry. Hi. I just—ugh. I swear, if one more dude tells me he’s ‘afraid of commitment’ but then moves in with his Xbox six days later—” She broke off, gesturing vaguely. “I’m tapping out. Officially retiring from the hetero rodeo.”

The corner of Wanda’s mouth quirked. She crossed the shop, the hem of her wine-red dress whispering against her knees, and settled across from Darcy at the little round table draped in embroidered cloth. A deck of tarot cards sat in the center, waiting.

“No more men?” Wanda echoed, tilting her head. “That’s very decisive of you.”

Darcy threw up her hands. “No more men. Ever. They’ve had their chance. I’m done. Toast. Stick a fork in me, etcetera.”

Wanda hummed thoughtfully, fingers brushing over the back of the tarot deck. “Well,” she said, eyes glinting, “the cards might say otherwise. Would you like me to check?”

Darcy laughed—loud, a little incredulous. “Are you seriously trying to fortune-tell me out of my vow of celibacy?”

“Not celibacy,” Wanda corrected smoothly. She drew the deck into her hands, shuffling with practiced flicks. “Just… new directions. Different possibilities. You swore off men, yes—but you didn’t swear off love.”

Darcy blinked at her, pulse kicking up unexpectedly at the way Wanda’s voice wrapped around the word love. “You mean like… dogs? Cats? I could totally be one of those people who takes their iguana everywhere.”

Wanda smiled, slow and amused, and placed the deck between them. “Pick a card, Darcy. Let’s see what the universe thinks you should try next.”

Darcy hesitated, her hand hovering over the deck. She knew she wasn’t supposed to take any of this seriously—it was candles and incense and vibes, right? But then again, Wanda Maximoff had a way of making even the kitschy feel profound.

They’d known each other for almost a year now, since Darcy signed the lease for the coffee shop next door. At first, it was just neighborly hellos in the mornings, Darcy unlocking the espresso machine while Wanda swept her stoop, both of them bundled against the cold. But soon it turned into little rituals: Wanda bringing over lavender tea when Darcy was jittery from too much caffeine, Darcy slipping a croissant into a paper bag for Wanda whenever she caught her lingering by the pastry case.

They weren’t exactly best friends—Darcy didn’t even know the full story of Wanda’s accent, or why she sometimes looked so sad when the shop was quiet—but they’d built a kind of easy shorthand. Enough that Darcy felt comfortable barging in like this, still dusted with coffee grounds, ranting about her love life.

And Wanda, for her part, never looked annoyed. She always listened like Darcy’s chaos was… entertaining. Endearing, even.

Now, across the table, Wanda’s green eyes sparkled in the lamplight as she nudged the deck closer. “Go on,” she murmured. “Pick one. Humor me.”

Darcy sighed, rolling her eyes for effect, but reached out anyway. Her fingers hovered, then tapped one of the cards near the center. Wanda slid it free with careful precision, turning it over between them.

The artwork gleamed under the lamp: two figures reaching toward each other, an angel poised above them. The Lovers.

Darcy snorted. “Of course. Very funny, universe. Real original.”

But Wanda only smiled, soft and sly, like she’d been waiting for exactly this. She leaned her elbow against the table and rested her chin in her palm, watching Darcy’s reaction. “You asked for no more men,” she said, her voice low and even. “And the cards listened. They are suggesting… another path.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes. “Another path as in…?”

“As in,” Wanda’s lips curved, “perhaps your future isn’t with men at all.”

The words landed heavier than Darcy expected, making her chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with the incense smoke curling in the air. “Wait—are you saying the cards want me to start dating women? That’s your psychic hot take?”

“Not women.” Wanda’s gaze held steady. “A woman.”

The air between them seemed to shift. Darcy laughed, too loudly, too quick, and looked down at the card. “Well, uh. That’s—good to know. Guess I’ll, um, update my Tinder settings.”

Wanda reached out and brushed her fingertip over the edge of the card, so close to Darcy’s hand it made her skin prickle. “Or,” she said gently, “you could let me take you to dinner. Consider it… part of the reading.”

Darcy’s head jerked up, eyes wide. “Wait. Are you asking me out under the guise of fortune-telling right now?”

Wanda’s smile deepened, equal parts mystery and challenge. “Maybe,” she said. “Do you want me to be?”

Darcy blinked at her, then barked out a laugh, shoving a hand through her hair. “Wow. Okay. You’re really committing to the bit. Do you just… hit on all your customers this way? ‘Your aura says you should totally buy me dinner’?”

Wanda tilted her head, unfazed. “Only the ones who swear off men loudly enough to shake the windows.”

Darcy groaned and dropped her face into her hands. “God, you heard that? I knew I should’ve workshopped my dramatic exit speech.”

“Oh, I heard it.” Wanda leaned closer, her voice warm with amusement. “Half the block heard it. Very powerful energy. Very final.”

Darcy peeked at her through her fingers. “You’re mocking me.”

“I’m encouraging you.” Wanda tapped the Lovers card again, her nails painted the same deep red as her dress. “The universe is clearly trying to help you move on. Maybe even… pointing you toward someone specific.”

Darcy let her hands fall with a sigh, slouching back in the chair. “Wow, real subtle. Next you’re gonna tell me the crystals ship us.”

“They do,” Wanda said matter-of-factly, with zero hesitation. “Especially the rose quartz.”

That earned another laugh out of Darcy, sharp but genuine this time. “Okay, fine. Points for commitment. But if this is your sneaky way of asking me out, you could just… y’know, ask me out. Normal style. Without props.”

Wanda smiled like a cat who’d already gotten exactly what she wanted. “But where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re gay?” Darcy asked, squinting at her like she was trying to solve a math problem.

Wanda’s smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Not strictly speaking,” she said, her tone lilting, careful. “I’ve loved men before. But I don’t… limit myself.” Her gaze lingered on Darcy, steady and just a little too direct. “Why would I, when the world offers so many possibilities?”

Darcy blinked, taken aback by both the honesty and the delivery. “Huh.” She sat back, arms folding, though the corners of her lips threatened to twitch. “So basically, you’re saying you’re the Swiss Army knife of dating.”

That made Wanda laugh, soft and warm. “If that helps you understand it, sure.”

Darcy pointed a finger at her, still smirking. “Dangerous woman. Very dangerous. One minute I’m ranting about terrible boyfriends, the next you’re telling me the tarot says I should date my hot witchy neighbor.”

“Psychic,” Wanda corrected, her grin turning sly. “And yes. That’s exactly what the tarot says.”

Wanda tilted her head, eyes narrowing just slightly, like she was studying Darcy the same way she might study the spread of cards. “You’re smiling,” she pointed out softly.

Darcy immediately straightened in her chair. “I am not.”

“You are,” Wanda insisted, a little spark of triumph in her voice. “You think it’s funny, but you like it. The idea.”

Darcy scoffed, flapping a hand. “Oh please. You’re reading into my face now like it’s another card in your deck.”

“Maybe.” Wanda leaned in just enough that the scent of her perfume—warm, floral, faintly spicy—curled into the air between them. “But I’m very good at readings, Darcy. And right now I see a woman who swore off men… but hasn’t sworn off being kissed.”

Darcy’s laugh caught in her throat. She fumbled for her coffee-stained apron strings, tugging at them like they’d suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world. “Wow. Bold. Do you just—drop that line on all your neighbors, or am I special?”

“Very special,” Wanda murmured, tilting her head the other way now, as though closing in.

Darcy blinked at her, pulse tripping over itself. “Special, huh? Is that what the crystals told you, or are you just making it up as you go?”

“Does it matter?” Wanda asked, her voice quieter now. Her head tilted again, deliberate, her hair slipping over one shoulder as she leaned just slightly closer across the table.

Darcy froze, realizing exactly how little space there was between them. The Lovers card still sat on the table, its painted figures mirroring the way Wanda’s gaze locked onto hers.

Her throat went dry. “Um. Just so we’re clear,” she said, fighting for nonchalance, “are you about to—like—psychically kiss me, or…?”

“Not psychically,” Wanda murmured, lips curving. Her face was so close now that Darcy could feel the warmth of her breath. “Unless you want me to.”

Darcy’s laugh came out shaky, half a protest, half a dare. “You’re—unreal. You know that, right?”

“Then stop me,” Wanda whispered.

Darcy didn’t move. She just sat there, caught between laughter and the dizzy thrill of it, as Wanda leaned in until there was barely a heartbeat of air left between their mouths—close enough for the promise, not yet the kiss.

Darcy didn’t stop her. Couldn’t. The second Wanda’s lips touched hers, every smart-ass comment Darcy had queued up short-circuited.

It wasn’t dramatic—no fireworks, no swelling soundtrack—just warm, soft, shockingly gentle. But Darcy still felt her knees go wobbly, even though she was sitting down. She made a tiny, startled sound against Wanda’s mouth, and Wanda smiled into the kiss like she’d been expecting it.

Darcy pulled back half an inch, eyes wide. “Wow. Okay. You actually did it.”

“You sound surprised,” Wanda teased, tilting her head.

“I just—I didn’t think my evening was gonna include—” Darcy broke off when Wanda leaned in again, stealing another kiss. This one lingered, Wanda’s tongue teasing at her lower lip until Darcy gasped and laughed at the same time.

Somehow Darcy’s hands found Wanda’s waist, tugging her closer. Wanda let herself be pulled, sliding into Darcy’s lap like she’d planned it. The motion made Darcy’s breath hitch and her laugh turn shaky.

“Wow,” Darcy said again, voice a little higher now. “You really don’t waste time, do you?”

“Why would I?” Wanda murmured, kissing her again. Her hand slipped under the hem of Darcy’s apron, palm warm against her stomach, fingers trailing lower.

Darcy’s laugh cracked into a gasp. “Oh my god—are we seriously—right here? In your crystal emporium?”

“Yes,” Wanda said simply, her grin wicked as her fingers dipped beneath the waistband of Darcy’s jeans.

Darcy squeaked, grabbing Wanda’s wrist for half a second before letting go just as fast, shoulders shaking with laughter. “You’re ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.”

“You’re wet,” Wanda countered softly, pressing her fingers more firmly against her.

Darcy let out a helpless, breathless laugh. “Okay, fine. Point for the psychic.”

And then she was kissing Wanda back, messy and eager, her own hand sliding up Wanda’s thigh under that wine-red dress.

For one dizzy second, Darcy almost pulled back—just to get her bearings, just to process that this was really happening. She’d joked, she’d flirted with women before, sure, but this? Wanda in her lap, dress hitched, both of them laughing into each other’s mouths while their hands moved lower—this was sex. With a woman.

It was shockingly… easy.

Darcy had always figured if it ever happened, it would feel complicated, like a whole different skillset she’d have to fumble her way through. But it wasn’t like that at all. It was instinct. Wanda kissed her and Darcy kissed back, Wanda touched her and Darcy wanted to touch right back, like she’d been waiting for permission she didn’t even know she needed.

Somewhere in the blur of it, Darcy thought—Wow. Men really had me convinced they were the default. But this feels so natural it’s almost embarrassing I didn’t try it sooner.

The thought made her snort against Wanda’s lips, which turned into a little laugh she couldn’t swallow down.

Wanda pulled back just enough to smirk at her. “What’s funny?”

Darcy shook her head, still breathless, eyes wide with a mix of nerves and wonder. “Nothing. Just… I can’t believe how much I like this.”

Darcy swallowed hard, still grinning like she couldn’t help herself. “Okay, no, you know what? I am gonna say it out loud.”

Wanda raised a brow, amused. “Say what?”

“That I cannot believe how much I like this,” Darcy blurted, words tumbling over each other in a rush. “Like, I’ve never—never done this before, and it’s not awkward at all, it’s not confusing, it’s just—” She broke off with a helpless laugh, cheeks flushed. “It’s really, really good. Like maybe I should’ve been doing this the whole time instead of wasting years on emotionally constipated dudes named Kyle.”

Wanda’s smile turned warm, indulgent. She brushed her fingers across Darcy’s cheek, tilting her face back into another kiss. “Good,” she murmured against her mouth. “I like hearing that.”

Darcy laughed again, breathless, her forehead resting against Wanda’s. “You’re seriously going to ruin me for straight relationships forever, aren’t you?”

“Not ruin,” Wanda whispered, lips ghosting over hers. “Just… show you something better.”

Wanda kissed her again, slow and coaxing, while her hand slid back down, undoing the button of Darcy’s jeans with an ease that made Darcy gasp.

“Whoa, okay,” Darcy breathed, squirming, but she didn’t stop her. In fact, she wriggled her hips like she was helping. “You really are committed to customer service, huh?”

“Always,” Wanda murmured, slipping her hand inside, finding Darcy hot and wet.

Darcy’s laugh stuttered into a moan. “Oh my god. Okay. Yeah. Yeah, that’s—wow.” Her head fell back against the chair, eyes squeezing shut, half laughing at herself for how fast her body responded. “This is—seriously, I thought there’d be, like, a learning curve!”

“There isn’t,” Wanda said, voice low and pleased. She kissed along Darcy’s jaw as her fingers worked her, slow at first, then deeper, more deliberate.

Darcy bucked up against her hand, grabbing Wanda’s waist under the dress, tugging her closer until her own fingers slid up between Wanda’s thighs. The silky heat there made her gasp again, this time from pure wonder. “Ohhh, hello. Okay. Yeah. Yeah, I get it now.”

Wanda’s laugh broke on a soft moan when Darcy pressed her fingers higher. “Quick learner,” she whispered, rocking down against Darcy’s hand even as she curled her own fingers inside her.

Darcy could barely breathe, the two of them tangled together on the chair, every sound turning half giggle, half desperate gasp. “We’re—God, we’re really doing this, huh?”

“Yes,” Wanda moaned, her forehead dropping to Darcy’s shoulder as they moved against each other. “Yes.”

Darcy’s laugh came out shaky, high-pitched, punctuated by another moan. “Holy shit, I—Wanda, I’m—”

Her words tumbled into broken noises as Wanda’s fingers coaxed her over the edge, her whole body jolting with release. The sound she made was half a laugh, half a cry, muffled against Wanda’s hair.

Wanda wasn’t far behind, Darcy’s hand pressed firm and eager between her thighs until she shuddered, moaning low into Darcy’s neck, her laugh trembling right through it.

For a long moment they stayed tangled there, both of them breathless, giggling at how ridiculous and incredible it all was.

Darcy finally managed, between gulps of air: “Okay. Okay. Forget the crystals. You don’t even need them—you just won the argument by default.”