hiraeth

“you wouldn’t dare betray me, right?” kuvira asks a few minutes after she came into your shared room, as she metalbends the top of her uniform off, her back facing you. you’d been waiting for her in bed, leaning against the headboard and immersed in your book, when the question catches you off guard.

you quickly shut it, sitting up straighter when a brief panic seizes your heart at the low, assured tone of her voice. “n—no!” you clear your throat when the denial comes out all squeaky, “i mean.. of course not. you know i’d never betray you, kuvira.”

“is that so?” your girlfriend muses as she sifts through the closet, her buff arms flexing in the white tank top she was left in. “you completely, unconditionally support my plan to take over the earth kingdom? you don’t happen to have any objections, do you? some of my soldiers seem to be.. having mixed opinions as of late, you see. something about my plan being an unreasonable, ruthless dictatorship.”

your brows furrow in confusion, dread pooling in your gut while you watch her ditch her uniform’s pants for sweats. you shake your head adamantly, “no— i have no doubts. i fully support you in your rule, kuvira.”

“i would hope so.” she finally glances your way, and your heart flips at her small amused smile. she slowly walks over to you, her steps heavy while her finger swirls into taking off her metal wrist cuffs, “after all, you’re my obedient girlfriend. my most devout follower. you pledged your complete loyalty to me, didn’t you?”

she didn’t look mad, but you didn’t like where this conversation was going. if anything, her calm demeanor scared you more than when she barged in angry and exhausted; it felt like she was trying to pull something out of you, and you genuinely didn’t know what.

she cocks a demanding eyebrow at your long pause, and you realize you left her without an answer. you jolt up and nod (hard), stammering nervously, “yes, yes— of course. i’ll always be by your side, kuvira. you know that.”

she gives you a non-committal hum, then sits on the bed next to you to stare deep into your eyes, and your cheeks flush at the proximity.

her hands reach out to hold one of yours but you can’t help your slight flinch — random affection wasn’t a common occurrence with her.

she stares at you quietly, and it’s so intense it takes all your willpower not to break eye contact.

her eyes don’t leave yours for minutes, completely unblinking.

“so,” she finally speaks up, and you can feel how badly your hand trembles in her grasp. “you really have nothing to say about my plans? maybe, i don’t know, a little complaint? there has to be something. i am taking the entire kingdom by force, after all. surely, a sweet, kind girl like you must have a certain.. stance about my behavior.”

her widening smile isn’t good news; this was a trick question.

you take a deep breath and shake your head, “.. no, i do not. it is not my place to question you, great uniter. whatever you see fit must be for a good cause, so i believe in you.”

“good, i’m glad we got that straightened out.” she gives your hand a condescending pat before letting go of you, getting off the bed once again.

you let out a deep sigh of relief when she walks away from you, heading out towards the door, but her next words feel like an ice bucket poured over your head. “i simply asked because a little birdie happened to tell me you were seen around said soldiers and conversing with them about my “questionable” decisions.” she unhooks her belt from its hanging spot behind the door, casting you a cold stare over her shoulder, “and the birdie told me you didn’t look like you were disagreeing.”

at first, her words don’t even make sense to you. what the hell was she talking about? you never talked with— oh.

“oh no no no,” you quickly wave her off, breaking into a cold sweat when she approaches you again. you let out a nervous sorry excuse of a laugh, your hands lifted in shaky surrender, “oh god— haha, this is actually so silly. that was a total misunderstanding. i-i wasn’t cooperating with them at all, i swear kuvira! the truth is—”

“save it.” she snaps, her amusement gone and replaced with a stern glare that shuts you right up. “i’m already irritated, so think carefully. are you sure you want to lie to me?”

“.. p-please,” you plead anxiously, scooting over to the edge of the bed, looking up at her when she stops in front of you. “please hear me out. i promise it’s not what it looks like. i swear i wasn’t planning anything against— agh!”

you don’t see her hand move until you feel the harsh sting of the belt against your bare thigh, earning a pained yelp from you.

“i’m not interested in your excuses.” she states matter-of-factly, letting the leather softly caress the sore spot, the threat obvious from her level tone, “i’ll ask you questions, and you’ll reply with either a yes or a no. am i clear?”

you chew on your bottom lip to keep from crying already, her authority so suffocating. you nod slowly, “.. yes, kuvira.”

she silently stares down at you, hands still behind her back in her usual military stance. then, after what felt like an eternity, she sits back down next to you on the edge of the bed, her legs lazily spread. she pats her thigh, “you know the drill. over my lap.”

that sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine. you wished you didn’t know the drill.

you’re not left much choice though, her fingers curling up and you’re already shifting into position through no will of your own. she always had you wear silver jewelry, and while she disguised it as a sweet thoughtful gift (a lie you were gullible enough to believe), all she ever used it for was to easily manhandle you in whichever way she desired with her bending.

you let out a shaky exhale, your tummy pressed against her strong thighs, staring helplessly at the stupid flower motif of your sheets.

“so.” her crisp voice cuts through the air like a knife, immediately forcing you into intense focus. “first of all, are you aware that betrayal is the worst thing i ever expect from my troops?”

this was ridiculous. of course you knew that— you were her girlfriend! but arguing would not help your cause, so you simply swallow down your protests, “.. yes.”

“second question.” you shudder when you feel the belt flipped, the studded part softly rubbing against your ass. “you do know how i deal with traitors, don’t you? it’s not pretty.”

you want to cry. this was so unfair. you weren’t even a traitor, and you were given no chance to defend yourself. once more, you gulp thickly, “.. yes, i know.”

“good.” her other hand comes to ruffle your hair patronizingly, “we’ve established the basics. now, tell me, were you or were you not with those soldiers?”

you so desperately wanted to get up and look her in the face to explain it all; her questions were cornering you so unjustly, and she must know that. so why was she being so cruel?

you don’t feel the tears well up in your eyes until your answer comes out all sniffly, “y-yes, i was. but please, i literally—”

smack!

you cry out, eyes blowing wide open when the spikes meet soft flesh, clutching the sheets as a wail rips through your throat.

she merely clicks her tongue, unbothered. “don’t cry now, this is your fault. i said i wanted yes or no answers only. just obey and you won’t get hurt.” her hand pats the reddening spot, and she picks up where she left off like you weren’t a bawling mess. “now, you do admit you were with said soldiers. in their conversation, were they or were they not conspiring against me?”

at this point, accepting your fate was easier. these questions were unfairly framing you and there was nothing you could do about it.

you nod through tears, your whole body trembling with your sobs, “.. yes, they were.”

she hums, “and you agreed.”

“please,” you throw caution to the wind, unable to keep answering questions that were leading you straight to your execution. you tightly latch onto her legs, desperately crying and apologizing to hopefully stall her for a minute, “p—please, i know what it looks like, but i swear, i swear i would never betray you, great uniter! y—yes, i was with them, and i did hear them out, b-but that’s only because they stopped me and asked me to join their cause. i swear i said no, i swear, kuvira.”

your words came out all high-pitched and jumbled up, but you were just grateful and surprised no strike landed on you during your incoherent rambling. you couldn’t see her face like this, but maybe this was making her think. yes, maybe this could work.

you cling tighter to her thighs, head lowered further in submission, “i-i understand why you would be angry with me, i really do. but i swear to you, i was just going along with it to try and talk some sense into them. p-please, you have to believe me. please don’t kill me, kuvira. y-you know i would never betray you.”

you really, really wished you could see her face to at least gauge her reaction. while her silence was definitely better news than her beating, you still felt terribly uneasy.

“kill you?” she finally speaks up and your limbs abruptly tense up. you’re confused when her hand finds your head to gently pat it, “of course i’d never kill you, sweetheart. you’re my girlfriend, aren’t you? i’m not that heartless.”

you blink, puzzled. did the fear make you pass out and send you to an alternate universe?

“i suppose i believe you,” kuvira adds, and as lost as you were, relief floods your heart. see, she just needed to hear you out!

you wipe your tears, a small smile on your face as you start lifting yourself up from her lap, “thank you so much. i’m so glad you heard me ou— ouch!”

you gasp when she harshly grabs your hair, halting your movements, and she tilts her head down to stare at you with an amused, quizzical look. “someone’s certainly confident. who said i was done with you?”

you blink at her, speechless. “huh? didn’t you just—”

she cuts you off, “head down.”

you plop back down in defeat with a soft whimper, her hand roaming over your lower back. “i said i could believe you,” she gives your waist a mean pinch to hear you squeal. “i didn’t say anything about forgiving you yet.”

forgive you? for what???

you glance up at her needily over your shoulder, “b-but why?! i already told you i didn’t take part in any of that!”

she only raises her eyebrow, “are you yelling at me?”

“n-no,” you quickly backtrack, lowering your voice. “no, i’m sorry. i just don’t understand what i’m being punished for, please.”

she doesn’t even bother hiding her smug smirk, toying with a strand of your hair. “oh i’ll tell you why. remind me, what’s your job here?”

“i’m.. your main researcher.” you answer hesitantly, confused about how it mattered right now.

“exactly.” a sudden smack lands on the back of your thighs, making you jolt up and yelp in surprise, “you only belong in the laboratory and the bedroom. what business did you have outside with the other soldiers, hm?”

you frown, “.. huh? i was just walking around the— oww!!”

her strikes are slow and controlled, but the impact has tears filling the rim of your eyes again. “and did you ask for my permission to do that?”

what?! your mouth opened to ask when that rule was ever instated, but your lips are smacked shut when she picks up the belt again, giving it a whip against her palm.

if kuvira suddenly decided it was a rule, then so it was.

defeated once more, you mumble between sniffles, “.. no, i didn’t. i’m sorry.”

“good girl,” she gives a pleased pat to your backside, urging you off with a bounce of her leg. “get on your knees.”

you do just that, scrambling off her lap to kneel between her legs. you slowly look up at her and bite back a moan. her manspreading made the bulge evident, thick and outlined against the side of her thigh, your gaze trailed up over where her tank had slightly ridden up for a glimpse of her abs, to its tight straps on her buff shoulders, watching her lean back on her flexed arms. finally, you meet her eyes and you feel your pussy throb at the sight, her gaze arrogant and somewhat demeaning.

she smirks at the hitch of your breath, tilting her head, “enjoying yourself? strip.”

you blush and do so; you only had a shirt on anyway, so you were just left in your underwear in front of her.

“what are you waiting for?” she gives her erection a few shameless rubs through the fabric, “it’s not gonna take care of itself. get to work, slut.”

“y—yes mommy,” the title naturally slips out of your lips, to which she hums appreciatively. you shakily tug down her waistband, freeing her hard cock enough for it to slap! back against her abdomen, the view making your soaked cunt clench around nothing.

you reach out for the pillow next to her that you usually put under your knees (because a blow job with kuvira never ended early; you learnt that the hard way in your very first days), but she smacks your hand off it, and you retreat it with a pained whimper.

you look up at her, visibly upset and startled as you rub your poor hand.

she only scoffs, her glare so intimidating it made your knees wobble, “what? you think you deserve comfort with how you behaved today?” she fists herself, bringing her flushed tip to your parted lips. “you’re funny. now shut up and suck me off.”

when you take more than a second to comply, she huffs and slaps the fat tip against your cheek, smearing pre-cum over your face, then forces herself in the second you open your mouth to gasp.

you’re left no time to process it, grabbing her thighs as you choke on her cock, her large hand finding the back of your head and pushing you further in with no prior warning.

“fuck,” she grunts at the tight squeeze of your throat around her, while you claw at her legs for mercy. “you sound much better like this. choking on my dick, like you should always be.”

tears stream down your face, pitifully looking up at her, but the shared eye contact only makes her twitch in your mouth, her pace growing more feral, “take it, you beautiful whore.” she breathes out a moan at how wrecked you looked, only a few minutes in, “you can take it.”

the throat-fucking renders you completely numb, your knees marred and bruised from the direct, prolonged friction against the hard floor. you weren’t even doing anything anymore, she was the one bobbing your limp head up and down her cock, your tongue uselessly licking up the ridges, her grip so tight on your hair but the sting of your scalp paled in comparison to the abuse of your throat.

it didn’t help that your pussy ached for touch, folds puffy and swollen, your slick uselessly dripping down your thighs and onto the ground. but when you tried to reach for your needy clit, her free hand striked your stained cheek so hard you choked harder on her cock.

“stupid slut,” she hissed, a cry ripping through your stuffed throat at her tightened grip on your hair. “you’ve gotten too brave. remember your fucking place.”

with a flick of her wrist, she bends your silver bracelets into snug handcuffs, swiftly locking your hands behind your back.

you thrash uselessly against them, your knees as heavy as lead, her rhythm growing sloppier as she tips her head back, “fuck, s-so good.. i’m gonna come.”

the unmistakable throb inside your mouth confirms her words, and soon after, thick spurts of cum paint your warm throat white.

kuvira sighs, chest heaving, and pulls herself out, but not without a final slap against your tongue. “swallow.”

you try to swallow most of it, the texture wet and sticky against your sensitive throat, your eyes glazed and half-lidded, barely able to hold yourself up without collapsing to the ground.

with your sore jaw hanging open, some of her cum dribbles out of your lips and she immediately gives your head a rough nudge, snapping you out of your haze.

you dazedly look up at her, and she points at the droplets that dripped down onto your chest or spasming thighs, irritated, “doesn’t look like swallowing to me.”

if you had any more tears left in you, you would have cried at the sheer humiliation, but she’d already finished up your stock and bullied your mouth shut into never denying her again, and so you gather up the few remains, shamefully bringing them to your swollen lips and licking them clean.

“good girl.” her hand finds your head again, and you flinch back like a dog at the motion, but she only gives you a gentle pat.

“can’t..” you whisper, your voice hoarse and cracked. “c-can’t move.”

your knees were locked in place from how long you were kept in such an uncomfortable position, your legs cramping so painfully you couldn’t budge a millimeter.

she takes a strand of your once pretty hair — now disheveled with some of it left in her hands from her rough pulling — and twirls it, “you do know why i had to punish you, right? i have no guarantee that you weren’t conspiring against me or planning to. and the evidence pointed towards it. you may be my girlfriend, but i’m the earth kingdom’s future ruler. i must deliver justice, don’t hold it against me.”

you rest your forehead against her knee, too tired and sulky to reply to her. she sighs at your silence, petting you like a puppy on the street, “i can’t afford to have traitors in my ranks, especially someone as important as you. you understand that, don’t you baby?”

if you weren’t scared of her, you would’ve scoffed at that. of course, always the roughest punishment and the same flimsy excuse of “having to do it” afterwards to butter you up.

kuvira lifts you up onto the bed, laying you down, and a bemused smile tugs at her lips when her eyes drift down to your sopping wet cunt.

she leans down to kiss your cheek — the one that still burned with the mark of her handprint — cupping your pussy tauntingly, forcing a needy whimper out of your lips.

“maybe next time.” she pats it before leaving you with a peck on the forehead, your hands still cuffed. she tuts at your whiny begging, “nope. no can do. bad girls don’t get orgasms, go to sleep.”

and with that, she rolls over to her side of the bed, your crying lulling her to sleep as you’re left tied and pent up.

you’re never leaving that lab again.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

* ugh kuvira breed meeeuhhhh.. again too lazy to proofread

after her defeat in republic city, she had fully succumbed to the nothingness. she lost everything. now, she is more than willing to accept whatever punishment the earth kingdom sees fit.

no one ever comes to visit her. not suyin. not even the avatar, despite sympathizing with how alike the two of them were. not even baatar. and worst of all, not even you.

at this point, she is even willing to accept death.

the heavy platinum door just a few feet away from her cell creaks open. the light shines in, making her wince and retreat further into the corner. she doesn’t bother looking up. it’s probably just some scrawny rookie delivering her lunch for the day.

then the door shuts and locks.

that, at least, is new.

“kuvira?”

a familiar, sweet tone. your voice echoes in the cold cell. kuvira’s eyes go wide at the sound of it. no. it’s just her mind playing tricks on her. it has to be. she refuses to look up, convinced it’s just another cruel trick of her own making.

your footsteps bring you closer with each step, stopping right at her cell. your hand slowly clasps around the platinum bar.

“kuvira, it’s me.”

finally, she looks up.

a shiver runs down your spine the moment you finally meet her dark, emerald eyes. the very eyes that used to look down on you when she worked you like a dog, barking commands at you with impossible expectations to please her.

she stares back at you, her expression completely unreadable. dark, wavy hair falls in strands over her face, making her look imposing despite her circumstances.

“you,” her voice comes out low, with a gravelly, deep rasp that never fails to make you nervous. “what are you doing here?”

you swallow hard. you’re not entirely sure why you came to visit kuvira in the first place. or maybe a part of you does know. it’s like an itch you can’t scratch, a truth you never want to admit out loud: without her presence, you feel lost.

“i just wanted to see how you were doing,” you explain, trying your best to sound indifferent.

a sharp, bitter laugh escapes her throat, her chains rattling against the metal. “is that so? you came all this way just to look down on your pathetic commander?”

as much as she wants to keep looking at you, she forces her head down—a small grievance for her own humiliation. sympathy rolls off your body so loudly that she can feel it, which only makes her feel even more helpless. she does not want your pity.

“n-no,” you mentally curse yourself for stuttering. “i didn’t come down here to belittle you. i just—”

“—just wanted to see your personal monster locked up in chains? don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart,” kuvira spits out bitterly. “you swore your loyalty to me, and now look at us. only one of us is in chains while the other wears the zaofu sigil with pride.”

your face contorts into a sneer. even now, with kuvira locked away for good, you hate the way she still manages to get under your skin. you hate how, even without her titles, she still has so much power over your feelings.

“that’s not true!” you screech, your voice echoing off the walls. “i didn’t come here to look down on you. i truly just wanted to see if you were doing okay!”

kuvira looks up, her eyes widening and her lips parting in shock.

even now, after all this time, your big heart still has space for her. beating for her, even—albeit small.

she studies the look on your face, the look she knows all too well. she recognizes the pinch in your brows, the way your bottom lip trembles with frustration whenever you do something that doesn’t please her. she recognizes the way you grip the platinum bars of her cell tightly, wishing you had all the strength in the world to tear this cage apart and break her free just so you could be with her again.

before she says something that’ll snap the devoted bubble you find yourself in, she forces her lips shut and downturns them into a frown that she knows will get her loyal pet’s heart racing.

“i’m sorry for lashing out at you,” kuvira speaks in a voice so small it nearly breaks you. “it’s just… so lonely in here.”

she huffs a self-deprecating laugh, pulling at your heart even more.

“i’m just used to a large bedroom with a king-size bed right in the middle.” she lowers her voice deliberately to a sultry rasp that you recognize all too well. “and with you lying right there next to me.”

your face goes hot, and your lips part in a soft gasp that echoes throughout the entire room. while you’re flustered, trying to mentally collect yourself, kuvira smiles—knowing she's already won you over.

“this is better, kuvira,” it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. “for the people. for the earth kingdom. for everyone.” your eyes are almost pleading. “and for us.”

kuvira sighs softly, letting the silence settle just for a second before she twists the knife buried in your heart.

“i miss you, baby.”

your eyes go wide. it feels like your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, desperate to release itself and reach the woman who destroyed not only your home, but your life.

all those late nights sneaking into her quarters after the rest of the military went to bed, moaning her name while your fingernails clawed into her back. all those stolen glances, the marks she would leave on your neck that you were forced to hide behind an earth empire uniform collar.

all those memories, compressed into a single, hopeless sentence.

baby.

the last time she called you that was when you were tangled in each other’s limbs after sex, where she was stroking your back and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. a promise of a life together once she took over republic city. a promise that never came.

“the things that i would do just to hold you one last time,” kuvira sighs. “to feel your fingers through my hair.”

your heart pounds wildly. suddenly, the cell key hiding in your pocket feels so much heavier.

“if things had been different, if i had just… handled things better, it wouldn’t be like this,” kuvira’s voice trickles into a broken whimper of regret. “we would be living together, right in the heart of zaofu where i was raised. we would have a wedding—just like we talked about during those late nights in the comfort of my bed.”

tears begin to dance at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill. the woman before you sounds so broken, in a way you have never heard before. the more she speaks, the smaller she looks.

“it’s not too late!” you insist, both hands finding the bars as you try to push your face through the gaps, desperate to reach her. “w—we can fix this! i can try getting suyin to hear you out. or… or—”

“don’t be ridiculous,” kuvira cuts you off, her patience fraying. she tries her best to suppress it to avoid your suspicion. “after everything i’ve done, they won’t allow it. they’ll even punish you for seeing me.”

you swallow down your tears.

“the next time you try to sneak out to see me, i’ll probably already be dead.”

your hand trembles, your shoulders slumping at the realization. “no…”

kuvira eyes the head of the key sticking out of your pocket, then looks back up at you. “but if i get at least one last opportunity to touch you, i can die in peace.”

she senses your hesitation, but she’s so close. you’re dangling right at the tip of her fingers. she just needs to find one last thing to reach in and grab you…

“i love you,” she confesses suddenly. “i felt like you needed to hear that now, otherwise you never will.”

your breath catches in your throat, and your heart stutters. without a single rational thought passing through your brain, you glance at the door. it’s locked. trapped shut. and completely soundproof.

kuvira smiles. good girl.

you fish for the key in your pocket, your hands clammy and clumsy as you try to insert it into the lock. the moment kuvira hears that delicious sound of the latch unclicking, she sits up so fast her chains rattle. you push the heavy cell door open, and she forces herself to rise slowly, lest she startle you.

she doesn’t even get the chance to stand up fully before your body collides right into hers, nearly knocking her backward. your face finds comfort against her chest, your arms wrapping tight around her waist as you pull her close.

“kuvira, i missed you,” you whimper. “i missed you so much.”

kuvira is stunned. it has been so long since she spoke to anyone, much less touched someone like this.

finally, her chin rests in that familiar spot atop your head, both hands coming up to pull you in even closer. the platinum feels heavy on her wrists, rattling with each stroke of your back.

“shh, don’t cry. i’m here,” she coos, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “kuvira’s here.”

she pulls away slightly to cradle your face in her hands. her thumbs brush over your cheeks, wiping away the tears streaming down your skin. then, she leans down and presses her lips against yours in a hot, searing kiss.

you melt into her immediately, your eyes fluttering shut as if under a spell. you press your chest against hers, your hands tangling in her dark, wavy hair. she lets out a low moan against your mouth, her tongue instantly taking control.

her hands trace your entire body, the cold chains dragging against your skin as she explores every curve she missed. she squeezes your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. one hand rests heavy on your lower back while the other reaches down to cup you, giving a possessive squeeze.

you moan into the kiss, and she moans back, rougher and deeper.

two minutes of her hands groping you, squeezing you, tracing thin touches that tickle your skin. two minutes of her mouth claiming yours. it takes only two minutes to already be soaked for the woman before you.

kuvira’s hand traces down your stomach, moving straight to the heat between your legs. her thumb presses gently against your clit, stroking you through the fabric of your uniform.

“uncuff me, baby,” she rasps against your mouth, barely pulling away from the kiss. “remove these chains, and i’ll take such good care of you.”

you pull back with a regretful look in your eye, holding your breath.

“i… i only have the key to the cell,” you mutter. “i’m sorry.”

kuvira isn’t happy. her face twitches, already settling back into that cold look of disapproval she wore when she was the great uniter. but she forces it down when she sees you tremble.

she knew she wasn’t going to get out of here today, but at least she has you. and that’s a start.

“don’t cry again,” she reassures you, her hands already making quick work of your clothes. “chains or no chains, you’re still mine. and i’m going to make sure your body remembers that.”

she tears your clothes off piece by piece until you’re standing completely naked before her. you watch as her cold, green eyes trace over your body with pure lust—a look you haven’t seen in a long time, yet one that never fails to send your heart racing.

her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip while she traces the smooth expanse of your stomach with the back of her index finger.

“you’ve always been such a perfect girl for me,” kuvira praises, stepping closer to you. “always so good. so pliant.”

then, with a sudden, tight grip, she grabs you by the waist and pushes you up against the cold wall, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs.

your eyes flutter up at her, displaying a cocktail of fear and desperation that she wants to get drunk on.

she brings her fingers up to her lips, eyes never breaking from yours as her tongue darts out to wet them. she settles her knee between your thighs, forcing you to part for her. her fingers finally make contact with your heat, and you immediately arch your back into her touch.

kuvira chuckles deeply. “so wet,” she coos. “i didn’t even need to prep my fingers when you’re already doing such a fine job for me.”

one of her large hands captures both of your wrists, pinning them above your head while the chains dangle. her other hand fondles you teasingly.

“kuvira, p-please,” you squirm, grinding your hips against her hand. “need you inside.”

she smiles wickedly. “just because i’m in chains, you think you’re in any position to make demands?” her fingertips tease your entrance, feeling your body clench in anticipation. “let me hear you beg for it. just like you used to when i was your commander.”

“please, great uniter!” you beg. “i pledge my entire body, my entire being to you, great uniter.”

a low groan rumbles from her throat. it’s been a long time since she heard those words come out of your mouth, and she feels her self-restraint melting by the second.

“it should be you in these chains,” she hisses, her fingers finally tearing past your entrance and into your warmth. “i should’ve thought of that when i was still the ruler. should’ve built a cage just for you—kept you chained up, always ready to be used at my disposal.”

your body stretches around her fingers, moaning and gasping her name like a breathless prayer as she works inside you. kuvira dips her head down, capturing one of your hardened nipples in her mouth.

“a-ah! k-kuvira!”

you feel her teeth graze against the sensitive skin, as if threatening to bite. you hiss sharply, arching your back. this is your warning, and you know what she wants.

“i’m sorry, great uniter!” you cry out, offering the title she demands. “i’m sorry. i’ll be good!”

she moans against your breast, and as you look down at what she's doing, the sight alone is enough to send you over the edge.

she pulls your sensitive nipple into her mouth, her tongue lapping hungrily over your skin. she switches from one side to the other, leaving one exposed to the cool air while the other gets ravished.

long, thick fingers move in and out of you. every time she pulls out only to drive back in, it leaves an embarrassing, wet squelch. you leave a slick ring at the base of her knuckles, her thumb soaked as she circles your throbbing clit.

“oh god, don’t stop! don’t stop!” you cry out.

you roll your hips in time with her movements, your body tightening up around her fingers. she pulls her mouth away from your chest, looking up at you through heavy lids and long, dark lashes.

“you going to cum? already?” she taunts, withdrawing her fingers completely.

you whine, left completely on edge. “it’s just… been so long.”

“no one’s touched you?”

you bite your lip, shaking your head no.

“even locked away, i still have power.” she smirks, wearing the exact look that makes your knees weak. “no one is foolish enough to touch what’s mine.”

slowly, she sinks to her knees before you. roughly grabbing one of your thighs, she hikes it over her shoulder and presses her nose up against your wet core, breathing you in. she lets out a sigh of approval before flicking her tongue out, dragging it along your folds and straight over your clit.

you gasp. “oh, kuvira!”

her hand grabs your ankle, forcing you to keep your leg pinned over her shoulder. she squeezes hard, making you whimper.

“call me kuvira again, and so help us both, i’ll find a way to break out of these godforsaken chains and give you the punishment you seem to be pining for, you dirty slut.”

she buries her face against you again, lapping at your warmth and flicking her tongue against the bud of your clit. her left hand remains tight around your ankle while her other hand trails up to the curve of your ass, gripping you tight so you can’t escape her ruthless tongue.

you moan and cry out, getting closer and closer to the edge.

she presses her face completely flush against you, letting her tongue do all the work. she flicks up and down hungrily, a wet sheen coating her chin. your eyes roll back, your hands tangling into her dark curls as you cry out.

“great uniter, ah—fuck. i’m cumming!”

her tongue gives you no remorse. she chuckles darkly against your clit, the vibrations making your eyes roll back.

“fuck, fuck, oh my god—” you cry out. “kuvira!”

her name breaks out in a pathetic whine, spilling from your lips. you no longer care about her title. you don’t even care if she punishes you for ignoring it. all you care about is coming undone all over your lover’s face.

kuvira’s palm squeezes your ass tight, forcing your hips against her face while her tongue works you through your climax. rolling your hips against her, you finally break with a screech of her name.

“kuvira, i’m cumming!”

your body convulses and your leg shakes over her shoulder. she forces you to ride out your orgasm, her tongue flicking feverishly over your sensitive bud. finally giving you respite, she drags her tongue up and down your wet folds, savoring your taste.

“mmm,” she pulls back, licking her lips. “tastes exactly as i remembered. just as sweet, and still mine.”

you’re panting above her, your back sweaty as you slump against the cold cell wall. kuvira slowly rises, watching as your energy drains away. your eyes flutter shut as you continue to catch your breath.

she knows you all too well. she knows that sooner or later, you’ll slump right into her arms—and that is exactly what you do.

kuvira catches you before you can hit the ground, her chains rattling as she uses her strength to hold your weight up.

“there, there,” she coos, slowly guiding you toward her cot.

it’s so easy for you to fall asleep in her arms. her scent, her breathing, the weight of her embrace—all of it feels so familiar.

“rest now, baby. i’m here.”

the two of you lie like that for a moment. despite the cold and unwelcoming cell, you find solace against her chest. her hand rests heavy on your back, monitoring your breathing. with you sound asleep, she slowly pulls the thin blanket up and over your body.

kuvira sighs. it’s a shame, really. a shame that she was given an opportunity to escape, but was instead left with this.

not that she minds it, though. deep down, despite her cruel words, she really does love you.

careful not to wake you, she slowly reaches over to gather your discarded uniform from the floor. as she lifts the fabric, the key to her cell slips out of a pocket and clanks to the floor. she glances over her shoulder at you. you’re still asleep.

she slowly picks it up, stopping to examine the ridges. squinting, she brings it closer to her face to get a better look.

kuvira glances at you one last time for good measure. then, out of sheer curiosity, she brings the key to the lock binding her wrists. she holds her breath. she knows you told her this was only the key to the cell—nothing more.

but it doesn’t hurt to try. at least this way, she’ll know if you were telling her the truth. it’ll give her peace of mind to know where your loyalty truly lies.

she inserts the key into the slot and twists.

click!

The autumn chill had settled deep into the bones of Zaofu, turning the vibrant green valley into a quiet expanse of rustling bronze and gold. In the secluded courtyard of the Beifong estate, the silence was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic, hollow scrape of a broom against stone.

Kuvira swept with an intense, almost frantic focus. She didn’t look up as you approached, though the rigid set of her shoulders proved she knew exactly who was there. Her uniform was gone, replaced by a simple, earth toned tunic that looked far too thin for the biting October wind. She was trying to lose herself in the manual labor, trying to sweep away the ghosts of her past with every aggressive stroke.

You paused at the edge of the terrace, holding a warm jacket over your arm and two cups of tea, watching her. You didn’t rush her. You had learned over the past few weeks that Kuvira could not be rushed.

"Those are sure a lot of leaves," you said softly, your voice carrying gently over the crisp air.

Kuvira’s hands tightened around the wooden handle of the broom. She stopped, staring down at a pile of brown and orange leaves that the wind had immediately scattered back across the path she had just cleared. A tiny, frustrated breath escaped her nose, turning into a faint cloud of white in the cold air.

"They are persistent," Kuvira replied, her voice rough, lacking its old, commanding tone. It sounded tired. "No matter how many times I clear them, they just return. It feels... futile."

"Then stop fighting them for a minute," you said. You walked over, your steps slow and deliberate, giving her ample time to retreat if she wanted to. She didn’t. You set the cups down on a stone bench and held out the jacket. "You’re shivering, Kuvira."

She looked at the jacket, then at your hands, her jaw clenching. "I don't need it. I am perfectly capable of enduring the weather."

"I know you are," you murmured, stepping just an inch closer. "But enduring isn't the same as living. Let me."

You didn't wait for her to argue. Very gently, you draped the jacket over her shoulders. Your fingers brushed against the bare skin of her neck, and she flinched not out of anger, but out of a raw, exposed vulnerability that broke your heart. For a second, she looked as though she might throw the jacket off, to prove she was still the iron willed Great Uniter. But as the warmth settled over her, her shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch.

"You shouldn't be doing this," she muttered, looking away from you, her green eyes fixing on the distant, jagged mountains. "You shouldn't be here at all. The guards outside look at you like you've lost your mind. They might be right."

"Let them think what they want," you said, picking up the two cups and offering one to her. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

Kuvira slowly let go of the broom, letting it lean against the stone wall. She reached out from beneath the blanket, her hand trembling slightly as she took the warm ceramic cup from you. Her skin was freezing. Instead of pulling your hand back, you let your fingers linger against hers, offering your own warmth. She didn't pull away.

"They hate me," she whispered suddenly. The words were quiet, stripped of the armor she usually wore. "Su looks at me and sees a betrayal she can never forgive. The rest of the world sees a monster in chains. And yet... you're still here." She let out a humorless, bitter laugh that cracked at the end. "Why? Why do you look at me and stay?"

The pain in her voice was palpable, a deep, aching wound from the realization of everything she had broken, including herself. You turned your body fully toward her to properly talk to her.

"Because I don't see a monster, Kuvira," you replied, your voice steady and filled with an unshakeable certainty. "I see someone who lost her way because she cared too much about protecting her people, and carried the weight of the world until it crushed her. And I see someone who is actively remorseful from the guilt of it all, but still trying to stand."

Kuvira’s breath hitched. She closed her eyes tightly, a single, silent tear slipping past her long lashes and tracing down her sharp cheekbone. She looked so fragile in that moment, the formidable metalbender reduced to a soul longing for acceptance again.

"I ruined everything," she choked out, her grip tightening so hard around the cup you were afraid it might shatter. "I hurt the people I was supposed to protect. I don't deserve this jacket. I don't deserve this tea. And I certainly don't deserve you."

"Hey," you murmured. You carefully took the mug from her shaking hands and set it on the bench, then reached out, placing both of your hands gently over hers. "Look at me."

It took her a long moment, her chest heaving as she fought to regain her composure, but she finally opened her eyes. They were glassy and filled with sorrow.

"You don't get to decide what you deserve right now," you told her, your thumb gently rubbing the back of her knuckles. "Just let me give it to you. Let me be here. We don't have to fix the whole world in one day. Take it one step at a time..."

A broken smile touched the corner of her lips, vanishing almost as quickly as it appeared. "You are incredibly stubborn.."

"I learned from the best," you teased softly with a genuine small smile on your face, the humor lightning up the heavy atmosphere.

Slowly, testing the waters with a careful deliberateness, you reached up. Your hand moved to her face, your palm cupping her cheek. Her skin was warming up from the tea, and she leaned into your touch almost instinctively, closing her eyes as a soft sigh escaped her lips. It was a slow, surrendering motion, a complete difference to the woman who used to command armies. Here, in the quiet courtyard, she was just a woman letting herself be held.

"Is this okay?" you whispered, your thumb brushing away the path of her tear.

Kuvira opened her eyes, looking down at you with a softness that made the autumn air feel suddenly warm. "Yes," she whispered back, her voice barely a breath. "Please."

She slid her arms out, wrapping them slowly around your waist. She pulled you in close, hiding her face in the crook of your neck. You could feel the trembling of her frame, the silent, heavy sobs she was trying so hard to suppress, but you just held her tighter, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and burying your face in her dark hair. It smelled like cedar and the crisp, damp leaves.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. There was no need to. The slow, rhythmic rising and falling of her chest against yours spoke volumes. It was a gradual, quiet healing, a love that wasn't born of a sudden spark, but built steadily with that time and patience you took your time from the very start up to now.

When she finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, her green eyes were clearer than they had been in months. The guilt was still there it would be for a long time but the suffocating isolation was gone.

"I don't know how to do this," Kuvira admitted softly, her hands resting against your lower back, keeping you anchored to her. "How to be... regular. How to rebuild."

"You don't have to know," you spoke softly to assure her. "We'll figure it out together. One day at a time."

She nodded, a genuine, peaceful expression washing over her face as she leaned down, narrowing her eyes onto your soft lips before averting her gaze away, feeling embarrassed of that thought coming across her mind. Just for now, this embrace is more than enough for the start of a new beginning.

Author's Note

Hey guys🥹 writing this while it's heavily raining outside rn made me lock in for this, I've been postponing this for a lil while because I like to procrastinate 💔

Anyways, hurt comfort with my beloved Kuvira (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) I feel like Kuvira is for the women 🙏 in my opinion please don't burn me at the stake 💔

I really want to make a cute mini series for this😣

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

The first time you notice it, it feels like déjà vu stretched just a little too thin.

Not the usual kind—where something is vaguely familiar, like a dream slipping through your fingers—but something sharper. Precise. The way the barista at the café smiles at you before you even speak, already reaching for the exact drink you were about to order. The way a stranger on the street sidesteps you before you even move. The way the same song hums faintly from passing cars at the exact same point in its chorus, over and over.

You brush it off at first. People do that. Your brain fills in patterns where there are none. That’s what you tell yourself.

Until you meet her.

She’s standing outside your building like she’s been waiting. Not pacing, not checking her phone—just there, still and composed, like a fixed point in everything that feels slightly off. Her eyes find yours immediately, like they’ve done it a hundred times before. Maybe they have. There’s something about the way she looks at you that makes your chest tighten, like recognition without memory.

“Hi,” she says softly, as if she’s careful not to startle you.

You hesitate. “Do I know you?”

There’s the smallest flicker across her face. Not surprise—something closer to disappointment, quickly masked. “Not yet.”

You should walk away. Every instinct tells you that this is strange, that something about her presence doesn’t line up with reality the way it should. But there’s a calmness in her voice that settles over your nerves like a weighted blanket.

She steps closer, slow enough to give you time to retreat. You don’t.

“I’m Wanda,” she says. “And you’re… stuck.”

You blink. “Stuck?”

“In a loop.” Her gaze searches yours, intense but not unkind. “Same day. It resets. Over and over.”

You laugh, because what else are you supposed to do with that? “Right. And you just decided to tell me that outside my building?”

“I’ve told you before,” she replies gently.

The laughter dies in your throat.

There’s no mockery in her tone. No hint that this is a joke. Just quiet certainty, like she’s stating something as obvious as the sky being blue.

“I think I’d remember that,” you say, but it comes out weaker than you intend.

Wanda tilts her head slightly, studying you. “You don’t. That’s part of it. You reset too. Your memories go with it.”

“And yours don’t?” you ask.

Her lips press together briefly. “No.”

Something in your chest tightens again. You don’t know why you believe her—but you do. Not completely, not blindly, but enough that the world feels like it’s shifted under your feet.

“If this is a joke—”

“It’s not,” she interrupts, still soft, still careful. “I can prove it.”

And she does.

She tells you what you’ll say before you say it. Finishes your sentences like she’s memorised them. Points out things that happen seconds before they do—a car honking, someone dropping their bag, the flicker of a faulty streetlight. Each time, it lands with a quiet, devastating precision.

By the time the day ends, you’re not laughing anymore.

By the time the day resets you understand.

—

It’s not immediate, the way you adjust to it.

At first, it’s panic. Every time the clock strikes midnight and the world snaps back to morning, it feels like drowning. You wake up in the same bed, the same light filtering through your curtains, the same dull hum of routine—but now you know.

Or at least, you remember until you don’t.

Because you forget.

That’s the cruelest part. You don’t get to carry it with you. Each reset strips you back to ignorance, leaves you wandering through the same day like it’s new.

Except Wanda is always there.

Always waiting.

Always remembering.

And every time you meet her, she tells you again.

At first, she keeps it simple. Gentle. She helps you navigate the confusion, grounds you when it starts to spiral. She shows you how to test the loop, how to recognise the patterns, how to hold onto the knowledge for as long as you can before it inevitably slips away.

“You’ll forget me,” she says once, her voice quieter than usual as you sit together in a quiet park, the world frozen in its endless repetition. “But I won’t forget you.”

There’s something heavy in the way she says it. Something that lingers even after the day resets and your memory wipes clean.

You don’t notice it then.

Not properly.

But something starts to shift.

—

It takes longer than it should for you to realise that Wanda isn’t just guiding you through the loop.

She’s… adjusting it.

At first, it’s subtle. Barely noticeable. A conversation that goes slightly differently. A person who isn’t where they should be. A missed moment that should have happened but didn’t.

You only catch it because, somehow, fragments stick. Not full memories—just impressions. Echoes. Like trying to recall a dream and only grasping the feeling it left behind.

And the feeling is… wrong.

You start paying attention.

Watching her.

Wanda doesn’t always approach you the same way. Sometimes she’s waiting outside your building. Sometimes she “bumps” into you at the café. Sometimes she doesn’t appear until later, like she’s testing how long it takes before you start noticing the loop on your own.

Each time, her approach is different.

Each time, you are different.

More open. More guarded. More curious. More distant.

It takes a while for the realisation to settle in, slow and sickening.

She’s experimenting.

You don’t know how many times she’s done this. You don’t know how many versions of this day have existed, how many variations of you she’s met, guided, adjusted.

But you know one thing.

None of it is accidental.

—

“Why do you always find me?” you ask one evening, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

Wanda stills.

It’s a small reaction, almost imperceptible—but you catch it.

“I told you,” she says carefully. “Because you’re stuck. And I remember.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Silence stretches between you.

There’s something different about this loop. You can feel it. The air is heavier, the space between your words more fragile. Like you’ve stepped slightly off the path she expects.

Wanda studies you, her gaze sharper now. Assessing.

“You’re not supposed to notice this early,” she murmurs.

A chill crawls up your spine. “Notice what?”

She doesn’t answer immediately.

And that’s when you know.

Something cracks open in your chest, a quiet, creeping horror that settles deep in your bones.

“How many times?” you ask, your voice unsteady. “How many times has this happened?”

Her expression shifts. Not guilt—not quite. Something more complicated. Something almost… conflicted.

“A lot,” she admits.

The simplicity of it makes your stomach drop.

“A lot?” you repeat. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I have,” she says softly.

You shake your head, stepping back. “No, that’s—no. You don’t get to just—what are you doing, Wanda?”

Her eyes flicker with something intense. Desperate, almost. “I’m trying to get it right.”

“Get what right?”

A pause.

And then—

“You.”

The word lands like a blow.

You stare at her, your mind scrambling to make sense of it. “Me?”

“I’ve tried different approaches,” she continues, her voice steadier now, like she’s already said this before. Maybe she has. “Different ways of telling you. Different ways of… interacting with you. Some work better than others.”

“Work better for what?” you demand.

She hesitates.

And that hesitation tells you everything.

Your chest tightens. “No.”

Wanda steps closer. “Listen to me—”

“No, you listen,” you snap, something sharp breaking through the confusion. “You’re not just helping me. You’re—what, running trials? On me?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?”

Silence.

Your heart pounds.

“Say it,” you push. “Just say it.”

Her gaze locks onto yours, unflinching now. Certain.

“I’m trying to make you fall in love with me.”

The world tilts.

For a second, everything goes quiet. Like the loop itself has paused to let the weight of her words settle.

“You’re joking,” you say, but it comes out hollow.

“I’m not.”

“You’re resetting the day—over and over—just to test how to make me fall for you?”

Her jaw tightens. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“How?”

“Because you do,” she says, her voice suddenly fierce. “In some loops, you do. You choose me. You—” She cuts herself off, her expression twisting with something raw. “But it never lasts. It always resets. And then you forget.”

Your breath catches.

“And you don’t,” you whisper.

“No.”

The weight of that single word is unbearable.

“So you just… keep trying?” you ask. “Until what? Until you find the perfect version of me?”

“I’m not changing you,” she insists.

“Aren’t you?” you shoot back. “You’re changing everything else around me!”

Her silence is answer enough.

A cold, sinking realisation settles in your chest.

“How many times have I said no?” you ask quietly.

Wanda doesn’t respond.

Your throat tightens. “How many times have I rejected you?”

Still nothing.

“Wanda.”

Her voice is barely audible when she finally speaks.

“Enough.”

The word echoes in your mind, heavy and suffocating.

You take another step back, shaking your head. “That’s not okay. That’s—that’s not okay.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you still doing it?”

Because she can.

Because there are no consequences.

Because the day will reset, and none of this will matter—except to her.

Wanda looks at you like she’s memorising every detail, every reaction. Like this moment is just another variation to catalogue.

And maybe it is.

“Because I love you,” she says.

It’s not dramatic. Not loud. Just quiet, certain, immovable.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

“You don’t get to do this,” you whisper.

Her expression softens, something almost pleading slipping through. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

“Not if I want to keep you.”

The words send a sharp, icy fear down your spine.

“Keep me?” you repeat.

The air feels thinner now. Harder to breathe.

Wanda steps closer again, slow and deliberate, like approaching a frightened animal. “You don’t understand. Every time the loop resets, I lose you. Every version of you. Every—everything we build, it just disappears. I’m the only one who remembers it ever existed.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to control it,” you snap.

“I’m not controlling you.”

“You literally are!”

Her eyes flash, something dangerous flickering beneath the surface. “I’m giving us a chance.”

“At the cost of my choice?”

“You still have a choice.”

“Do I?” you challenge. “If I say no, you just reset the day until I say yes. That’s not a choice, Wanda. That’s—”

You stop, the word catching in your throat.

Manipulation.

Control.

Something darker.

Wanda’s gaze doesn’t waver.

“You’ll understand,” she says quietly.

“No,” you reply, your voice firm despite the fear curling in your chest. “I won’t.”

A beat of silence.

And then—

“Okay.”

The word is soft. Almost gentle.

Too gentle.

Something in your gut twists.

“Okay?” you repeat.

She nods slowly, her expression unreadable now. Calm. Resolved.

“We’ll try a different approach.”

Your stomach drops.

“What does that mean?”

Wanda smiles.

And there’s something about it—something just slightly off—that makes your blood run cold.

“It means,” she says, her voice smooth and certain, “this version didn’t work.”

The world flickers.

Just for a second.

But it’s enough.

Your breath catches, panic surging as the edges of reality seem to blur, like a glitch in something that’s not as stable as it should be.

“Wait—Wanda—”

But she’s already stepping back, her gaze still locked onto yours.

Memorising.

Evaluating.

Deciding.

“I’ll see you again,” she says softly.

And then—

everything resets.

—

You wake up.

Same bed. Same light. Same day.

No memory of what came before.

But across the room, standing in the doorway like she’s always been there—

Wanda watches you open your eyes.

This time, she doesn’t smile.

This time, she looks… certain.

Like she’s finally figured something out.

“Good morning,” she says gently.

And something deep inside you—something you don’t remember earning—fills with a quiet, unexplainable dread.

Because somehow—

you feel like this is the loop where she gets it right.

—

You don’t know why you trust her so quickly this time.

That’s the first thing that feels wrong.

It settles into you without resistance, like it’s always been there, like she’s always been someone you can lean on. There’s no hesitation when she explains the loop, no disbelief, no frantic questioning. Just a strange, calm acceptance that sinks into your bones like it was placed there deliberately.

Wanda notices.

Of course she does.

You can see it in the way her shoulders relax, in the way her voice softens when she speaks to you, like she’s handling something fragile but precious. Like she’s finally holding something she’s been reaching for.

“Doesn’t it scare you?” she asks at one point, her eyes searching yours carefully.

You pause, considering it.

“It should,” you admit slowly. “But… it doesn’t feel new.”

Her breath catches.

Just slightly.

And you don’t know why, but that tiny reaction sends something uneasy curling in your chest.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

You frown, trying to put it into words. “It’s like… I’ve already been through the panic part. Like I already know how this goes.”

Wanda’s gaze softens, something almost relieved flickering through it. “Maybe you do. In a way.”

You nod, accepting that answer far too easily.

That’s the second thing that’s wrong.

Because somewhere, deep down, something is screaming at you that you shouldn’t be this okay with it.

That something has been… adjusted.

You just don’t know what yet.

And Wanda—

Wanda knows exactly what she changed.

She watches you closely, tracking every reaction, every word, every subtle shift in your expression. Not with the anxious trial-and-error of before, but with quiet, careful precision. Like she’s already narrowed it down. Like she’s refining something instead of searching for it.

“Do you trust me?” she asks later, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

The question lingers in the air, heavier than it should be.

And without thinking—

“Yes,” you say.

Wanda exhales, something deep and long-held loosening in her chest.

And that’s when it clicks.

Not fully. Not clearly. But enough.

A flicker of something чуж breaks through the calm in your mind, sharp and dissonant.

Too easy.

That was too easy.

Your brow furrows slightly, confusion threading through the haze. “Wait—”

Wanda’s expression shifts instantly.

Just a fraction.

But you see it.

The calculation.

The readiness.

“What is it?” she asks gently, stepping closer.

“I just—” You hesitate, the feeling slipping through your fingers like sand. “That didn’t feel like… me.”

Her gaze sharpens.

Dangerously subtle.

“What didn’t?” she presses.

“Trusting you,” you say, the words slow, uncertain. “I mean—I do, but… I don’t know why.”

Silence.

Wanda studies you, her mind moving faster than you can track.

Adjusting.

Recalculating.

Because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

Not this soon.

Not in this version.

“You’ve trusted me before,” she says carefully. “Maybe that feeling just… stayed with you.”

Maybe.

It’s a reasonable explanation.

Too reasonable.

You nod slowly, but the unease doesn’t go away this time. It lingers, faint but persistent, like a crack forming beneath the surface.

And Wanda sees it.

She always sees it.

Which means she also knows—

this loop isn’t perfect.

Not yet.

But it’s closer.

Closer than any of the others.

And she’s not going to lose it now.

Not when you’re finally looking at her the way she’s always wanted.

Not when you’re this close to staying.

So when you hesitate—

when that flicker of doubt threatens to grow—

Wanda makes a decision.

A small one.

A precise one.

Barely noticeable.

She reaches out, her fingers brushing against yours—

and the world shifts, just slightly.

Just enough.

Your thoughts settle instantly, the unease dissolving like it was never there. The tension in your chest eases, replaced with something warm. Familiar. Safe.

Wanda watches it happen in real time.

Watches you relax.

Watches you smile, soft and unguarded, like nothing was ever wrong.

And this time—

this time, you don’t question it.

You just look at her like she’s the only constant in a world that refuses to stay still.

Like she’s the only thing that makes sense.

And Wanda—

Wanda finally smiles back, something victorious and quietly possessive settling behind it as she realises—

she’s getting closer.

So, so close.

And if she has to bend reality just a little more to keep you there—

well.

You won’t remember it anyway.

The day will reset.

And she’ll try again.

And again.

And again until there’s no version of you left that could ever think to leave her. and the terrifying part is, you don’t feel trapped.

Not at first.

It’s subtle, the way it settles into you. The comfort. The ease. The way Wanda’s presence starts to feel like the only stable thing in a world that quietly resets itself over and over again. You stop questioning the repetition. Stop resisting the strange, hazy gaps in your memory. Because every time something feels like it might be wrong—like a thought just slightly out of place—she’s there.

Grounding you.

Soft voice, steady hands, eyes that hold yours just long enough to pull you back under.

“You’re okay,” she murmurs one afternoon, her thumb brushing slow, deliberate circles against your wrist. “It’s just the loop. It can make things feel… disjointed.”

You nod, even though the word doesn’t quite fit.

Disjointed implies something broken.

But this doesn’t feel broken.

It feels… guided.

That’s what it is. That’s what she’s made it.

Your days begin to blur together in a different way now—not as a chaotic spiral of confusion, but as something smoother. Curated. There are no sharp edges anymore, no moments of panic that spike too high, no lingering dread that stays long enough to take root.

Wanda doesn’t let it.

And the more time you spend with her, the more natural it becomes to follow her lead. To let her decide where you go, what you do, how the day unfolds. Because every time you don’t—every time you drift even slightly off the path she’s nudging you down—something feels off.

Not wrong.

Just… less right.

Like you’ve missed a step in something you were supposed to know by heart.

It’s easier not to fight it.

Easier to stay close to her.

Easier to let her guide you back.

—

“You’re happier like this.”

The words slip out of Wanda one evening, quiet but certain, like she’s been holding onto them for a long time.

You glance at her, a small smile already forming before you can think about it. “Like what?”

“Like this,” she repeats, her gaze soft as it traces your face. “With me.”

There’s no pressure in the statement. No demand.

Just… truth.

And that’s what makes it so easy to accept.

“I am,” you admit.

Because you are.

That’s the part that should scare you.

But it doesn’t.

Wanda’s smile deepens slightly, something satisfied flickering behind it. Not smug—never that. Just… relieved. Like she’s finally seeing something fall into place.

“I knew you would be,” she says.

Of course she did.

She always does.

—

The cracks don’t disappear.

They just… change.

Instead of loud, jarring breaks in your awareness, they become quieter things. Fleeting inconsistencies. Moments that almost slip by unnoticed if you’re not paying close enough attention.

A phrase Wanda repeats exactly the same way, down to the smallest inflection, hours apart.

A stranger who reacts to you like they’ve met you before—before quickly correcting themselves.

A song that restarts halfway through, like reality itself lost its place.

Each time, your mind brushes against it—just for a second.

Each time, Wanda is there before the thought can fully form.

“Focus on me,” she says gently, drawing your attention back, anchoring you before the unease can spread.

And you do.

You always do.

Because focusing on her feels… right.

Because every time you don’t the world feels like it might slip out from under you.

—

“You trust me, don’t you?”

It’s not the first time she’s asked.

But it feels different this time.

Heavier.

More important.

You look at her, really look this time, and for a split second—just a split second—you see something beneath the surface. Something tightly controlled. Something waiting.

Waiting for your answer.

“Yes,” you say.

And it’s true.

But this time you know it didn’t start that way.

The thought hits you like a glitch in your own mind, sharp and sudden.

It didn’t start like this.

Your breath catches.

Wanda notices instantly.

Her entire body stills, eyes locking onto yours with laser focus. “What is it?”

You shake your head slightly, the feeling already slipping, already fading. “Nothing, I just—”

No.

Not nothing.

Something is wrong.

Not with the world.

With you.

“I didn’t used to trust you,” you say slowly, the words dragging themselves into existence through resistance you don’t understand. “Did I?”

Silence.

And that silence is deafening.

Wanda doesn’t answer.

Which is an answer.

Your chest tightens. “Wanda.”

Her jaw clenches, just for a second.

Then she steps closer, her voice softer now, carefully measured. “It doesn’t matter how it started.”

“It does to me.”

“You trust me now,” she counters, like that’s the only point that should exist.

“That’s not the same thing.”

Her expression shifts, something sharper breaking through the calm. “Why does it have to be?”

Because it’s not real.

The thought slams into you, sudden and overwhelming.

Because she made it this way.

Your head spins, fragments pushing to the surface—feelings that don’t belong to this version of you. Fear. Resistance. Anger.

Rejection.

You stagger back slightly, your breathing uneven. “You changed something.”

Wanda’s eyes darken.

“Be careful,” she says quietly.

The warning sends a cold spike down your spine.

“You did,” you press, the words coming faster now, stronger, like something inside you is finally breaking through whatever she’s done. “That’s why it feels so easy now. That’s why I’m not questioning anything—you made me like this.”

“I didn’t make you anything,” she snaps, and there’s something raw in it now, something dangerously close to unraveling. “I just… helped you see what was already there.”

“No,” you shake your head, your heart pounding. “No, that’s not—this isn’t real.”

Her composure cracks.

Just a little.

But it’s enough.

“Define real,” Wanda shoots back, her voice tightening. “Because from where I’m standing, this is the most real thing either of us has.”

“You’re controlling it!”

“I’m stabilising it!”

“You’re manipulating me!”

“I’m saving us!”

The words echo between you, sharp and desperate.

Silence follows.

Heavy.

Suffocating.

Your chest rises and falls too quickly, your thoughts spiraling as the pieces start to click together in ways you can’t ignore anymore.

Every reset.

Every change.

Every version of you that ever said no.

“They’re all gone, aren’t they?” you whisper.

Wanda freezes.

“All the versions of me that didn’t want this,” you continue, your voice quieter now, but steadier. “You just… erased them.”

“I didn’t erase them,” she says quickly, but there’s a crack in her voice now. “They reset. That’s how the loop works.”

“But you chose not to keep them.”

Her silence confirms it.

Something in your chest breaks.

“I don’t even know if anything I’m feeling is mine anymore,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda’s expression falters, something almost pained flashing across it. “It is.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve seen every version of you,” she says, stepping closer again, slower this time. Careful. “I’ve seen the ones that hate me. The ones that fear me. The ones that walk away without looking back.” Her voice tightens, emotion bleeding through despite her control. “And I’ve seen the ones that love me.”

Your breath catches.

“And this?” you ask, your voice trembling. “Which one is this?”

Wanda reaches out, her fingers hovering just inches from your face.

“This,” she says softly, “is the one that stays.”

The words settle over you like a weight.

Heavy.

Final.

And for a moment you almost believe her.

Because it would be so easy.

So easy to let go of the doubt, to sink back into the warmth she’s built around you, to let her be the constant that holds everything together.

You can feel it pulling at you.

Inviting you.

All you have to do is stop questioning.

All you have to do is let her.

But then—

a flicker.

A memory that isn’t yours.

Or maybe it is.

A version of you, standing exactly where you are now, looking at Wanda with the same fear, the same realisation—

saying no.

Your breath sharpens.

“No,” you whisper.

Wanda’s hand freezes mid-air.

“I don’t want this,” you say, louder now, the clarity cutting through everything she’s tried to smooth over. “Not like this.”

Something shatters behind Wanda’s eyes. Not surprise. Not even anger. Something worse.

Understanding.

Because she’s seen this before. Heard these words before.

Watched this version of you slip through her fingers —

again.

The air shifts.

You feel it instantly.

That subtle, unnatural distortion, like reality itself holding its breath.

“No,” Wanda says quietly.

The word is firm this time.

Unyielding.

“We’re not doing this again.”

Your stomach drops. “Wanda—”

“I got it right,” she insists, her voice tightening, something desperate creeping in. “This time, I got it right. You were happy.”

“I wasn’t free.”

“I can fix that.”

“You can’t fix this!”

Her composure cracks completely.

“I CAN!” she shouts, and the world jerks violently around you, like something just snapped under the strain.

Silence slams down after it.

Wanda’s breathing is uneven now, her control slipping in a way you’ve never seen before.

“I can make it better,” she says again, softer this time. Pleading. “I can adjust it. Just a little. You won’t even notice.”

That’s the problem.

You won’t.

And that terrifies you more than anything else.

“Or,” she continues, her voice dropping to something quieter, more dangerous, “I can reset.”

Your blood runs cold.

“Wanda—don’t—”

“It’ll be easier next time,” she says, like she’s convincing herself as much as you. “I’ll start earlier. Change less. Keep more of you intact—”

“No!” you step forward, grabbing her wrist before she can pull away. “Stop. Just—stop.”

The contact sends something sharp through both of you.

Wanda goes still.

Completely still.

Her eyes flicker down to where you’re holding her, something unreadable flashing across her face.

“You’ve never done that before,” she whispers.

Your grip tightens slightly. “Done what?”

“Stopped me.”

The weight of that settles in your chest.

Because she’s right.

Every other version of you every other loop you never got this far. You never pushed back like this. Which means this moment is new. Wanda feels it too.

You can see it in the way her expression shifts, something uncertain breaking through the desperation for the first time.

A variable she didn’t account for. A version of you she hasn’t seen yet.

And for the first time Wanda doesn’t know what happens next. The loop trembles around you, unstable, like it’s waiting for her decision.

Reset. Or don’t. Her entire world hangs on that choice. And so does yours.

Her gaze lifts back to yours, searching, conflicted, something raw and unguarded bleeding through all the control she’s been holding onto for so long.

“If I don’t reset,” she says quietly, “this is it.”

No more adjustments. No more retries. No more different versions of you. Just this one. This choice. Your heart pounds, but you don’t let go of her.

“Then let it be it,” you say.

Wanda’s breath catches.

And for the first time since you met her - since any version of you has ever met her - she hesitates.

Not calculating.

Not adjusting.

Just… feeling it.

The risk.

The uncertainty.

The possibility that this might not end the way she wants it to.

Her fingers twitch slightly in your grip.

The world flickers.

Once.

Twice.

On the edge of collapse.

And Wanda—

Wanda closes her eyes.

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

Masterlist

The last strike of the cane landed on your backside and you couldn't help but let out a breath of relief. 

You didn’t move, your breaths coming out in shallow gasps as you tried to regain some sort of a composure. 

“Good?” Asked Wanda as she moved to take the cuffs off of your wrists. They cuffed your arms behind your back at the beginning of the scene but by now you could barely feel anything, your limbs numb from no movement. 

“Yes.” You answered robotically.  

You didn’t enjoy it much, the cane. It left a sting that forced tears that had nothing to do with pleasure, but every ‘Color?’ was answered with ‘Green’.

You were far too afraid that if you told them you didn’t enjoy something they would end the arrangement and you would be left without an income. An income that you desperately needed to get by. Rent, tuition, food, none of that would pay itself. 

“I’m gonna go grab some lotion for her.” Muttered Natasha as she eyed you, unsure if you were just recovering from the intense canning or if something was genuinely wrong. 

Natasha and Wanda were good dominants, asked all the right questions, negotiated everything, though their care was more on the impersonal side. You were not their girlfriend or a wife. You were simply someone they paid for a good time. To be their little toy for the weekend and then go home. 

Every move, every word, every decision told you you were simply a person providing a service and nothing more. You were okay with that, that was what you signed up for after all. And they did pay you well, each sunday ending with a generous transaction. 

You only saw them through the weekend. They were far too busy with their company during the week and liked to keep their weekday evenings free for relaxation while you were left juggling school and your two other jobs throughout the day. 

You felt the mattress dip by your side as Wanda slowly stroked your hair. “I hope these are not sad tears.” She murmured. 

You shook your head immediately. “I liked it.” 

You did not. You wanted to stop before it even started. 

It was them who introduced you to the world of BDSM, though they weren’t really aware of it. You told them you were experienced. 

It wasn't like you hated everything. Being tied up was nice, especially when they edged you or overstimulated you. The paddle was fun too, hurting just enough to make you crave more, while slick covered the inside of your thighs. Being called a ‘good girl’ made you squirm and your hips buck more than anything else. You truly found a lot of it enjoyable, but there were certain aspects of it that made you want to hide away and cry, but you often found yourself saying ‘yes’ and ‘green’ even when your body yelled at you to say ‘stop’. This was a job after all. You were hired to be their submissive. To fulfil their needs as dominants. 

So when Natasha suggested the cane you said yes, just like always. You were here to please them, that’s what they were paying you for. The least you could do was say yes. 

“Got the lotion.” Said Natasha as she approached you and sat down on your other side. You heard her open the cap and squeeze some of it onto her palm, the sound more sharp than normal. “This is going to sting a bit.” She muttered. 

You gave her a small nod, just to show her you heard her, though the second her palm touched your aggravated skin you hissed sharply. Natasha was quick to pull her hand away. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just stings.” You murmured, your voice strained. 

She only hesitated for a second, before her hand reached out again. “I know, the lotion will help. I promise.” 

The initial contact felt like being burned by fire, but you powered through and soon you were able to settle into the touch. The sting didn't immediately disappear, but it dulled enough to not make you whimper in pain. 

They gave you a few more minutes to rest, Wanda helped you roll onto your back and sit up, while Natasha handed you a bottle of water. They both watched carefully as you drank most of it, your mouth feeling like it was filled with sand. 

“Let’s get you to bed.” Said Wanda moments later as she helped you stand up. They had a special room where they did scenes, where they completely took you apart. Once everything was over they would always lead you to their guest room, while they quietly retreated to their own master bedroom. The simple gesture always left you feeling dirty, almost as if you weren’t worth their bed, but you knew the rules. This was strictly just sex, they were not looking for a companionship. 

Wanda helped you lay down when you reached the bed, while Natasha placed another bottle of water on the nightstand. “We’ll be in the bedroom if you need anything. Sleep well.” Said Wanda, her voice lowering. 

All I need is the money. 

“Good night.” You murmured as they closed the door to the guest room and the darkness engulfed you. You desperately tried to shake off the feeling of abandonment. You couldn't understand why you felt so down and shaken, you’ve done scenes you hadn’t really enjoyed that much before, but you were always fine. Why was this so different? 

Whatever. Nothing a bit of sleep won’t fix.  

You closed your eyes, hoping to will the sting away. The money you would receive tomorrow would make it all worth it. Even if you felt like a disgusting, used piece of toy. 

You hadn’t felt this disgusted with yourself since this arrangement started. That first night with them leaving you to question all your morals but you truly had no choice. 

______________

The end of your junior year was approaching quickly and with that the last tuition payment as well. You had it all under control, until you didn’t. 

The past three years were spent running between school in the morning, waitressing in the evening and bartending during the night. It was a lot and you barely had enough time to breathe, but you managed to pay the bills that needed to be paid, though you were often left with barely enough money to afford food. Sometimes all you had left was 20$, and sometimes you managed to save enough to feel like royalty, though you guessed actual royalty felt much different than you did. 

And then it all came crashing down on you in February. Your landlord unexpectedly raised the rent, which meant you had to pick up even more shifts. That was somehow manageable, but then your laptop broke down. And that was truly your downfall. You were in university, you needed a laptop to survive, but the repair cost so much you didn’t have enough for the upcoming tuition installment. 

You paid what you could, leaving a small amount of money in your bank account to afford some food, and promised yourself you would make up for it next month. The next month was the same, and your balance showed you were still almost one full tuition payment short. 

You worked hard to pay it off, and yet, when May arrived and it was time to pay the rest of the tuition off you were more than 2000$ short. 

Then one monday you received an email. Your hands shook and your heart stopped beating for a second as you saw the title. 

Final Notice: Outstanding Tuition Balance

You hesitated for a second before you opened it, wishing you could just pretend it didn't exist, but you knew that was not how life worked. You simply couldn’t run away from it. 

Tears gathered in your eyes as you opened the email. You couldn’t even read the whole message but the most important information stood out clearly. 

Outstanding balance of 4500$.

Failure to meet the deadline might result in a suspension of enrolment. 

By Monday, 25th of May, 1:00 PM. 

You had less than 7 days to get over 2000$. No amount of extra shifts was ever going to solve this, but you still tried asking. Both of your bosses turned you down, claiming there were no extra shifts to give. 

You tried asking for an extension too, claiming it was an extraordinary issue and that by September everything would be paid off. They turned you down too. 

The emergency loan didn’t work out either. 

You could drop out, that would technically make the problem disappear, but you didn’t want to give up now. You had one more year to get through and then you would finally be out of this mess. 

Just when it seemed like this would be the only way to get out of this situation, you overheard two girls talking in the lecture hall while you waited for your morning lecture to start. 

“Ugh, there’s this cute handbag I want to get, but I can’t fucking afford it.” Whined one of the girls. The sound made you wince, you could already tell what type of person she was and it made you despise her before even talking to her. 

“Show me.” Gasped the other girl, curious to see what it could possibly look like. The first girl swiftly pulled out her phone, the webpage with the handback already loaded as she turned the screen towards her friend. 

“It’s so cute though.” Dreamed the other girl, her eyes shining with adoration. 

“Yeah, look at the price.” Scoffed the first girl, the unhappiness clearly written across her face.  

Her friend gasped as she handed her the phone back. “Oh shit girl, that’s worth at least like one kidney.” 

The first girl whined again, the sound cutting through your head. “I know! Fuck it, I need to get myself a sugar daddy. That would solve everything.” 

They both laughed, obviously understanding it was just a harmless joke, but to you it sounded like salvation. 

The idea disgusted you. You were a lesbian, and having to interact with a man that you were not interested in at all left a bad taste in your mouth but you were desperate. 

Maybe we could just talk. Some of them just want dinner and that’s it, right?

You had less than 5 days left, you had to do something. 

That night you searched through the internet. Most of the websites felt much like a scam or straight up like a prostitution website but then you came across the one that would change everything for you. 

SugarDatingNYC

You clicked on it and you were surprised to see the simple, professional design. It seemed more like a corporate webpage rather than a place where one could pay someone for their time. 

The initial link only showed the basics. How it worked. Verification. Rules.

You didn’t see anyone’s profile. You needed your own profile for that. 

You didn’t immediately clink the ‘Sign Up’ button. You couldn’t believe you let yourself get to this point. There was nothing wrong with sex work, if that was what one wanted to do then good for them. But this was not the future you envisioned for yourself. Having to sell yourself just to afford basic necessities. 

You stared at the screen blankly for a few minutes, but your desperation won in the end. You did not want to be kicked out of the school. 

You signed up, but left your profile blank, your profile picture empty. You did not want anyone to see you on a webpage like this. You told yourself you would just look through to see who was on it, how much money they were offering for what type of stuff. 

Some just wanted to text, some wanted pictures, some wanted actual dinners. The money was nice but nowhere near enough compared to what you really needed. 

Then you looked at the profiles of people who wanted something more, something physical, and that’s when you found prices that would actually solve your issue, but the thought made you nauseous. Most of them were men, the profiles filled with sleazy photos and creepy descriptions, the language making you wince. 

No, you did not want to be a slave that would serve her master or a sex toy that would do anything for her daddy. 

No money was worth this. 

And then you stumbled upon their profile. Natasha and Wanda. A Married couple, both dominant, looking for a submissive, women only. Their profile was clean, professional, and it felt like finding a needle in a haystack. 

They wanted a dinner first, to discuss preferences and boundaries, promising a generous compensation. 1500$. It wasn’t enough but it was better than nothing and their profile was the only one that did not make you want to curl into a corner and cry. 

Your fingers hovered above the keyboard, wondering what you should write. Each message left unfinished before you deleted it. Frustrated, you put the phone away, deciding to let it be for now. 

The next morning you woke up even more drained than usual. School, work, another work, all of it passed with you barely noticing, your brain working on autopilot. Soon you were in the same place as yesterday, laying in bed and staring at that damn webpage. You found their profile again.

You pondered, but then you finally made the decision. You truly needed the money and there really was no time to waste. It didn’t matter to you that you weren’t a submissive. Or at least you weren’t aware of it. You weren’t totally clueless, you knew one side had control and the other didn’t, you knew people liked being tied up, liked being hit, but you’ve never tried it before so you couldn’t really tell if that was something you were into. It didn’t matter though. If they wanted a submissive, they would get one. 

You redid your profile, added a picture, a description, perfectly tailored the profile to what they wanted, adjusting the language over and over again to match their tone. 

And then you messaged them, your hands shaking with nerves. 

Hi, I really like your profile. Would you be up for a meet up? I’m available any time. 

You didn’t expect a quick response, after all it was middle of the night, and perhaps they didn’t even visit the website that often. You put the phone away as your heart beat dramatically. You couldn’t believe you’ve done this. You closed your eyes and tried to sleep, but your current situation left you feeling restless. It wasn’t until your alarm was almost about to go off that your brain finally decided to quiet down. 

You checked the webpage the second you opened your eyes and you couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed to find your message unanswered. They hadn’t seen it yet, which was a good sign, it at least meant they hadn't completely dismissed you, but it left you feeling uneasy. 

It was during the second lecture of the day, while the lecturer was setting up his presentation for the class that you decided to check the webpage again. Your eyes widened when you saw you got 2 new messages. 

Tonight, 8PM. Here’s the address. 

The second message was an address of a restaurant, which you immediately looked up. It was luxurious and expensive, located in a part of the city you don’t venture in accidentally. Clearly meant for wealthy people to visit.  

You were a bit startled to see there was no hello or an introduction, just a simple instruction with time and place. What if they’re serial killers? 

You shook the unwanted thoughts away and typed back.

I’ll be there. 

Your shift at the bar was supposed to start at 9 PM, there was no way you would be able to make it. You opened the chat with your boss and messaged him that you wouldn’t be able to make it tonight. 

_____________

“You think we should text her back?” Asked Wanda as she stared at the opened chat in Natasha’s phone. 

Natasha just shrugged her shoulders as she answered indifferently. “We can try. What do we have to lose?” 

“She seems eager.” Murmured Wanda thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, she probably wants the money.” Chuckled Natasha. She knew what the girls on these sorts of apps wanted. Easy money to buy luxurious stuff. It wasn’t like it bothered her, but she did find it humorous at times. 

“Let’s just meet up with her tonight, the worst that can happen is that she won’t show up.” Argued Natasha. 

“Okay.” Sighed Wanda, the excitement missing in her voice. 

They had a happy marriage, some would argue that it was too happy. They loved each other dearly and were more than enough for one another. But over the years their sexual desires grew, what started as a very vanilla sex slowly evolved into more kinkier stuff. However, that’s when they realized one important factor. Neither of them were truly submissive. Both of them could relinquish power every now and then, but the simple truth was that both women simply enjoyed being dominant more. 

It wasn’t a marriage ending type of issue for them, but they both secretly hoped for some sort of a solution. 

Neither of them expected for that solution to arrive so soon. 

They were hanging out with some of their friends, everyone in the circle having known each other for years at this point, which meant that no topic was too sensitive to discuss. 

It started off calmly, everyone simply catching up on what they’ve been up to lately, eating dinner and sharing wine. 

It was later that evening that the conversation turned into a very intense sexual discussion, each friend spilling one confession after another. Wanda and Natasha kept quiet, not revealing much about their own sexual escapades, since they preferred to keep that private. 

That didn’t last long as suddenly one friend turned to the married couple and bluntly asked. “So, who’s the dominant one?”

Both women stared in shock, not really sure what to say. “Uh, I mean, we both are?” Answered Wanda, her voice hesitant. 

“What do you mean?” Asked another friend, placing her elbows on the table as she stared at them intensely, smirk adoring her face. She was always the one that loved winding people up, and she was thoroughly enjoying this moment. 

“Well, we can both sub, but we both prefer being on the dominant side.” Answered Wanda again, a bit more sheepish. 

“So how does that work then?”

“It works just fine, thanks for asking.” Clipped Natasha, clearly getting tired of being interrogated about something so personal. 

“Oh, come on Nat. Don’t be so uptight.” Teased another woman, but Natasha was quick to bite back. “I’m not uptight. This is just none of your business.” 

“It works fine, but if neither of us are up for subbing then we’re just sort of stuck. We still have fun but it just feels unbalanced sometimes. It's becoming a bit more frequent, but it’s okay.” Answered Wanda quickly but honestly, hoping to close the topic. 

“Get a sugar baby then, someone who would sub for you. People will do just about anything, if you offer them enough money.” A different friend answered indifferently, throwing the information at them so casually as if she was discussing the weather. 

“But we don’t want to open our marriage.” Argued Wanda, disgust clearly written across her face. Natasha’s face was no different, clearly not thrilled about the idea. 

“Then don’t. Open your bedroom. Keep it professional, just a simple transaction. They come over, you guys fuck and they leave. No need for any romance.” Shrugged the same friend.

“I don’t know, that doesn’t feel right.” Murmured Wanda as she looked away, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious. 

“Give it some thought, hm? There are many websites meant exactly for this. This isn’t an unsolvable issue.” Said the friend as she offered them an honest smile, her look free of judgement. 

Natasha and Wanda didn’t open the topic that night again once they got home, choosing to let it sit for a bit. It was days later that Wanda decided to bring it up again, approaching her wife and confessing she was willing to give it a try if it was strictly a sex only arrangement. Nothing more.  

They had a thorough conversation about it, clearly laying down boundaries and what they both expected from it. And after that, they started doing their research, looking over different websites to use, neither of them were completely comfortable with it, but they figured it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

They searched through many websites, but none of them felt right enough until they found that specific one. It seemed professional, or at least as professional as it could be and they both quickly agreed to set up their profile there. 

They chose to keep it simple, only sharing what was necessary, there was nothing sexual to it, nothing suggestive, the whole profile looking close to a CV. 

And then…nothing. 

They didn’t reach out to anyone. The idea of reaching out to young girls and offering them money for sexual services felt predatory to them. So they just had their profile there, finding new messages from a few people every now and then, but none of it ever really worked out. 

It wasn’t like either of them was really disappointed, since neither of them truly believed it would work out. So they just left the profile there, deciding to just check if there was anything new every now and then. 

And then they found you, or rather, you found them. 

Were you, perhaps, going to be the solution to their problem? 

_______________

You almost backed out about 10 times before you finally got on a train to go to the restaurant. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. What would your younger self think? 

Your leg bounced uncontrollably the whole way there, and you kept considering just getting out of the train and leaving, but you needed the money. 

It’s fine. It’s just a conversation tonight. I don’t have to do anything with them. 

The walk from the station to the restaurant felt endless and too quick at the same time. You became increasingly more anxious the closer you got, your hands shaking in their pockets and your breathing laboured.

You showed up to the restaurant exactly 10 minutes early, wanting to appear professional, or as professional as you could be in a situation like this. 

You weren’t surprised to already see the married couple sitting by the table, recognizing them from the picture on their profile. They both seemed like the type to arrive at places early. You weren’t sure if you were glad to show up after them or not, approaching them felt weird, but sitting there and having them approach you would feel weird too. 

You walked closer carefully, internally trying to convince yourself to not run away. You kept walking until you stood directly in front of them, their eyes raised as they sensed a new presence and you suddenly felt even more shy at their intense stares. You hid your arms behind your back, not wanting them to see the intense tremor. 

“Hi, I-, I’m the one from the website. It’s nice to meet you.” You said, your voice shaking, as you tried to sound as polite as possible. 

“Hello. I’m Wanda.” Said the first woman and then nodded her head towards the empty chair to your left. “Sit down.” 

Your eyes darted to the other woman who simply offered. “Natasha.” 

You nodded as you pulled the chair back and sat down, it was then that you allowed yourself to look around and admire the restaurant’s interior. It felt and looked expensive, and you could tell the only thing you would be able to afford here would be a cup of water. Maybe not even that. 

“I-, uh, I don’t really know where to start-” You murmured frantically, wanting to fill the silence but Wanda was quick to interrupt you. “That’s okay. Let’s just keep it simple, hm? Choose something to eat, our treat.” 

Her voice was melodic, and so soft you found yourself nodding without even realizing it. You picked up the menu carefully and scanned what was inside. You weren’t surprised to see that you didn’t know the majority of the dishes, everything expensive and way over the top for a regular person. 

“Wine?” Asked Natasha when the waitress brought the bottle to the table.

“Sure.” You nodded absentmindedly. Alcohol was probably what you needed. 

“Did you choose something?” Asked Wanda after a few minutes and you nodded shyly as you showed her what you wanted. She offered you a gentle nod in response as she smiled. 

No one said anything while you waited for the waitress to come get your orders and you were desperate to fill the awkward silence. Though it seemed like you were the only one who felt the awkward atmosphere because the two older women seemed entirely at ease, almost as if this was no different than just a casual dinner with a friend they hadn’t seen in a while. 

Natasha ordered for all of you once the waitress got to your table, Wanda only making an occasional comment with few adjustments, while you sat quietly, playing anxiously with your fingers in your lap. 

Once the waitress left Natasha cleared her throat and spoke, her voice low. “So, what do you want out of this?” 

“I just-, I want money.” You murmured as you winced internally, shame washing over your whole body. 

I sound like a slut. 

“That we can do.” Chuckled Wanda, and her little teasing comment eased something in you.

Maybe you didn’t need to feel so ashamed. They were here for the same thing, they wanted this too. 

“Look, I know this is weird. Believe me, this isn’t what we typically do on a friday evening either, but this is just a conversation, okay? No pressure, we just talk and see where it goes.” Said Wanda, her lips pulled into a tiny but genuine smile. 

“Okay.” You nodded, unable to not return the smile. 

They didn’t ask you much about who you were or why exactly you were doing this, all they wanted to know was that you were all on the same page. They asked you if you had any experiences with BDSM and you nodded immediately, wanting them to believe you were the perfect fit. 

You continued the conversation as you ate, though most of it consisted of them explaining what they wanted from this while you nodded along. They didn’t go into great detail, mostly just clarifying that this was a sex only arrangement to them, it was to remain absolutely discreet, that you were to see no one else during this arrangement for safety purposes and that each night spent together would end with a payment of 3000$. 

Your eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when you heard how much money they would pay you. That would be more than enough to pay off the tuition. 

“Are you still interested?” Asked Natasha as she raised her eyebrows at you, not being able to hide her smirk.  

“Very.” You nodded immediately, earning yourself a chuckle from her. 

Wanda clasped her hands together, closing the conversation. “Well, for now, I think we talked enough. Would you like to come over tomorrow? We can discuss this in more detail, find some common ground and sign a contract.” 

“I-, yeah, sure. That works.” You said as you took a sip of the wine, both surprised and relieved to see this moving along so fast. The sooner this happened, the sooner you would get the money. If they kept their promise you would still get money tonight, but it wouldn’t be enough to pay off everything. 

With that Natasha stood up to go pay, while Wanda led you outside and made sure to exchange your phone numbers, reminding you to send them your bank account number as well. 

Wanda immediately replied to your message with an address. “This is our place. Be there tomorrow at 8 PM, okay?” 

“Of course.” You nodded politely, which made Wanda give you a gentle smile. “Perfect! It was nice meeting you.” 

“See you tomorrow.” Said Natasha as she returned, her hand moving to rest on Wanda’s lower back. They looked good together, almost as if they were from the front page of some expensive magazine. 

“See ya.” You said as you waved your hand awkwardly and quickly turned around in the direction of the train station, desperately needing to escape. 

There wasn’t anything wrong with them, they didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. They were professional but polite. It was the idea of this arrangement that made you feel uneasy. 

You will feel even more uneasy when you get kicked out of the school. 

You watched the people pass you by as you stood at the platform, waiting for your train to arrive. You wondered quietly what they were up to tonight, whether they’ve also done something they never thought they would have to do. 

You felt your anxiety rise any time someone glanced your way, feeling like everyone could see right through you. 

They know what you did. They know your dirty little secret. 

You barely registered the train arriving or getting on it, your body suddenly working on autopilot. It was only half way through the journey that you finally woke up from whatever trance you were in, the sound of a new notification on your phone waking you up. You pulled it out of your pocket, wanting to check what it was. 

The color drained from your face when you saw. Wanda transferred the money. 1500$ just like that. 

You released a shaky breath, finally feeling like that weight was lifting off of your shoulders. And as you left the train station and pressed your card against the gate to pay for your ride you realized that dread didn’t fill you, the sound of the money leaving your bank account not leaving you shaken for once. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

______________

You stared in awe as your uber dropped you off in front of their house. Normally you wouldn't spend your money on an uber, choosing to save that money instead, but when you looked up a way to get there you were horrified to find out you would have to walk for about an hour after getting off of the train, the whole journey taking close to 2 hours, while the uber would only take about 30 minutes. The neighbourhood was apparently so high end that there was no public transport going there, everyone simply drove. 

You thanked the driver and got out, slowly making your way to their front door. You felt smaller and smaller as you approached their house. You briefly wondered if only the two of them lived there. You understood the want for luxurious things and that people liked to treat themselves when they could afford it, but a house of this size was simply ridiculous. It could easily house at least a dozen people, probably even more. 

You stood in front of the door for a few moments, debating if you should text them you were here or ring the bell. You chose the latter, feeling like it was a bit more polite. 

There was no response for a while, and you wondered if you should ring the bell again, but just as you were about to reach out the door opened swiftly, revealing Wanda.

“Well, hello there.” She greeted you with a smile adoring her face.

“Hi.” You replied, feeling shy under her intense gaze. 

“Come on, come inside.” She said as she stepped aside to let you in, revealing the enormous hallway decorated with furniture and numerous paintings.

You couldn’t hide the look of amazement, which Wanda noticed as she gave you an amused smile. “You like it?”

“It’s breathtaking.” You sighed. It felt surreal to stand in a place like this.

“Well, thank you. We are very proud of this place.” Said Wanda as she led you deeper into the house. There was a massive living room to your right and an even bigger kitchen to your left. That was where she led you, while Natasha was already waiting there.

“Hi.” You greeted her quietly, her presence a bit more intimidating than that of her wife. 

“Hello.” She replied promptly as she stood up and went to open one of the cupboards. “How are you?” 

“Good.” You murmured as your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeves. You felt unsure of yourself. You felt like you didn’t belong in this place and you weren’t sure if you should sit down or wait for them to tell you something.

“Nervous?” She asked teasingly as she glanced at you over her shoulder.

You let out a tiny chuckle as you nodded, your hands dropping to your side. “A bit.”

“I would offer you some wine, but I think it’s better if we’re all sober for this conversation. So, how about some water?” She asked as she turned to you completely, holding three glasses in her hands, waiting for your answer.

“Water works.” You murmured as you stood still and watched her place the glasses on the table that separated you. A jug filled with water already placed in the middle. 

She sat down then, staring at you expectantly.

“Sit down.” Said Wanda suddenly as she pulled away one of the chairs from the table before circling it, choosing to sit next to her wife. 

You felt as if you were in the middle of a job interview. When you thought about it that was basically what it was. You were applying for a job, hoping they would choose you.

“So, we discussed the money last night. That still stands if you agree.” Said Wanda as poured some water in a cup, placing it in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah. That's fine.” You nodded immediately. 

“We also discussed how we expected this arrangement to work. That hasn’t changed. But what we would like to go through now is exactly what we want to do within this arrangement.” Continued Natasha, to which you only gave a small nod, showing her you were listening.

“You said you’ve had experiences in BDSM before, right?” She questioned.

“Yes, that’s right.” 

“So, what have you tried so far?” Asked Wanda and you wavered momentarily. You couldn’t back out now, so you scattered your brain for some specific activities you could tell them you engaged in. 

“Uh, well, tying up, spanking…just the usual stuff.” You murmured, hoping to hide your cluelessness behind shyness. 

“It is okay if you haven’t tried something yet. Each scene will be discussed beforehand to ensure we all know what’s going to happen and if we’re all okay with that.” Wanda replied, sensing your uneasiness.

Natasha suddenly pulled out a stack of papers, picking a specific one and handing it to you. 

“This is a list of our preferences, what is okay and what is absolutely off the table. Take a second to look at it and then we can discuss.” Said Natasha, her tone suddenly turning strict.

You nodded as you grabbed the paper and quickly scanned its contents.

Hard limits and Preferences.

You went through the hard limits first. The list wasn’t long but it mostly contained kinks on the more extreme side. 

Age play, anything involving bodily fluids, knife play, breath play, rape play.

You were relieved to see those written in there, knowing that you would have a hard time engaging in these things if that was what they wanted from you.

Then you scanned the preferences. That list was longer. Much, much longer. Some of the things written in there scared you, but you plastered on a polite smile and looked up at them. 

“Seems okay.” You tell them, feigning confidence. 

“How do those hard limits seem to you?” Asked Wanda, her voice taking on a softer tone. 

“I-, uh, it’s okay. I don’t like any of that either.” You answered quickly.

“Anything on the other side that is a hard limit for you?” Natasha asked, her tone stern. 

“No.” You answered immediately. It’s been going well so far, you didn’t want them to throw you out now.

They both raised their eyebrows at that, clearly not convinced that you would be into the exact same things as them.

“I mean, I haven’t done all of it, but I’m willing to try.” You stuttered, feeling shy under their intense stares.

“All of it?” Asked Natasha, obviously trying to catch you out in a lie, but you weren’t going to give up that easily. 

“Yes.” You nodded confidently.

“Well, okay.” She muttered as she picked up another paper, this one carried the same title but the rest remained plain. “Write your hard limits and preferences here for us.” 

Fuck. You did not remember everything they had written in there.

The hard limits one was easy, the list short enough to be memorized in that short amount of time but you wouldn’t be able to write down an exact copy of their preferences.

You wrote as much as you could and handed the paper back to them. They both went through it carefully before placing it next to their own list. 

“Hm, almost an exact match, you only left out a few things.” Murmured Natasha as she raised her eyebrows. She proceeded to read aloud those that you left out but you already prepared an answer. “I haven’t tried those, but I want to.”

Wanda gave you a soft smile as she spoke. “Let’s put those under soft limits, hm? We can start with what you already know and then we can move on to something new if you feel up to it.”

I don’t know any of it.

“Okay.” You murmured.

Natasha cleared her throat as she began speaking again. “Now safe words. We use the traffic lights system. Green for keep going. Yellow for slow down or I need a break. Red for stop. Do you use anything else or would you like to use those?” 

“No, those are fine.” You said immediately. 

“We will have non-verbal safe words in place too. In case you cannot speak. We can do taps or squeezes or you can raise your fingers. One for green, two for yellow and three for red. It’s important that you remember this, but we will make sure to always remind you before any scene starts and there will be regular check-ins during the scenes too.” Wanda added, staring at you intensely.

You gave them a small nod but Natasha’s stern voice quickly interrupted you. “Words.”

Your eyes widened momentarily, slightly taken back. Strangely enough, it made warmth bloom in your stomach, your hips shifting unconsciously. “I-, yes, sure. I understand.”

The talk continued, words like aftercare and subspace thrown around but you didn’t pay that much attention anymore, robotically nodding and agreeing to everything. 

Then they talked about the scheduling. You were to come over every Friday at 8 PM, do a scene and then leave. The same on Saturday, while Sunday and the rest of the weekdays were to remain free for both sides. This meant you would have to cancel your waitressing shifts those days, the times simply not working out but you were okay with that. The amount they would pay you would more than make up for it. 

And then the last step. Signing the contract.

“This is mostly just a technicality. Just something to make sure that all sides are safe and that we all have something to fall on.” Clarified Wanda, but your hand still shook slightly as you held the pen in your fingers. You couldn’t mess up now. 

You read through it swiftly, not really caring what was in it but not wanting to appear careless in front of them. And then you signed it. 

“Well, that’s that.” Said Natasha as she took the paper from you, putting it on top of the other papers. 

“Are you up for a scene tonight?” Wanda asked suddenly, which earned her an immediate nod from you. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, wanting to make sure you weren’t lying, but you weren’t going to butch. You nodded again, trying to appear more sure of yourself. “Absolutely.” 

“Alright then, let’s go upstairs.” Said Natasha as she stood up abruptly, her voice carrying a hint of finality. 

They both walked towards the grand staircase and you immediately followed after them like a lost puppy. You weren’t surprised to see the numerous doors once you reached the upper floor, none of them open, quietly hiding what was behind. You all walked all the way until the end of the hallway and then stopped abruptly as Natasha pulled out a key from her pocket. 

“This is where all our scenes will take place.” Said Natasha as she finally unlocked the door, letting you step in first. You were speechless at the sight. The whole room was red and black, filled with various instruments and furniture, but you could tell each and every one of them served its purpose. Some of them looked like torture devices rather than something that was supposed to bring pleasure. A shiver ran through you at the thought of some of these things being used on you. 

You felt Wanda gently squeeze your shoulder, her voice low, but not judgemental. “Still want to keep going?” 

“Yeah…” You murmured. 

I want to run away.

“Okay. I promise we'll keep it simple tonight.” Replied Wanda as she led you to the middle of the room, stopping right in front of the enormous bed. There was no duvet or blanket on it, only two red satin pillows, the mattress made of leather as well.

She stood directly in front of you, while her fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt, but she made no move to take it off yet. 

You looked up at her expectantly, but she only gave you a small smile. “Can I take it off?” 

Your head moved before you could register it, frantically nodding in agreement, but that wasn’t enough for her. “Use your words.”

“I-, yeah, you can take it off.” You murmured, growing impatient, but that seemed to be enough for her as she began to undress you and soon you stood completely naked in front of her. She stepped slightly to the side, letting Natasha see you properly as well. 

It felt strange to stand naked in front of them, while they both remained completely clothed, the action leaving you to feel weirdly exposed and vulnerable. You had to fight the urge to hide, especially when you saw Natasha sitting down in a chair and looking at you so casually. 

It made you nervous, but more than that, it made you feel humiliated. Humiliated to admit that you liked it, slick slowly but surely covering the insides of your thighs. 

“Color?” Wanda asked carefully, stopping for a second to observe you. You gave her a small smile as you spoke. “Green.” 

She nodded in acknowledgement, but her eyes were already turning darker with mischief. “I’ll start first, just with my fingers and my mouth. Gotta get you ready for Natasha.” 

You nodded wordlessly, the blunt language making you blush. It was unbelievable how they could talk about something so sexual and dirty so casually, almost as if they were discussing what they would have for dinner. 

Wanda inched closer to you, which instinctively made you back up, your knees bending once they hit the bed, making you sit down clumsily. 

“Lay back.” You laid down slowly, looking up at Wanda with nervous eyes.

“Thighs apart.” She ordered again, her tone turning more stern as she continued speaking. Your thighs parted automatically, wanting to please her. 

“Good girl.” Your heart stopped beating for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. You liked that more than you thought you would.

“Now make sure they stay there.” She added as she settled between your thighs, her lips beginning to pepper small kisses along the inside of your thighs. You squirmed a bit, finding it a bit ticklish, but your movements were quickly stopped when Wanda decided to bite down on the flesh, wordlessly warning you. It hurt, but it also made your pussy clench around nothing, making a small whine leave your lips. 

Suddenly you felt a single finger drag through your folds, ending at your clit, which made your hips buckle. “Hm, so wet already.” Mused Wanda, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying yourself. 

She teasingly pressed her finger against your clit, while she kept kissing and biting your thighs mindlessly. You tried to bite back your moans, feeling embarrassed about being so around when nothing even happened yet. 

“Don’t hold back. I want to hear it.” Said Wanda as she raised her head, beginning to slowly circle your clit, which made a moan come out of your mouth. Wanda smiled triumphantly. “That’s it.”  

Your head began to spin, and thoughts were becoming harder to string together. You’ve never felt anything like this before. 

You felt the bed dip by your side and you turned your head, finding Natasha sitting next to you, her legs crossed and face blank, though you could see a hint of something dangerously devilish in her eyes. 

Wanda stopped stroking your clit after a few moments, instead moving her thumb downwards before suddenly dipping it in your pussy. You yelped in surprise, your walls immediately squeezing around her thumb. 

“God, she’s soaked.” Murmured Wanda in awe as she looked up at Natasha. 

“I can see.” Mused Natasha, her fingers going to your nipples, mindlessly playing with them. 

Apparently Wanda was done playing around, because she pulled out her thumb only to push her index and middle finger in as her mouth latched onto your clit. Your back arched at the unexpected wave of pleasure, while moans spilled from your mouth. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” Murmured Natasha while her fingers kept softly pinching your nipples. 

Wanda kept switching between sucking on your clit and circling it with her tongue, while her fingers kept pressing against your g-spot. You could barely hold yourself together, the pleasure turning your brain into a soup. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed but you felt your pussy clench around Wanda’s fingers more and more as your moans kept getting louder. You knew what it meant. You were close, you were going to cum. 

All of a sudden, Wanda’s fingers stopped, her mouth pulling away from your clit and your eyes snapped open, tears threatening to spill. 

“I-, please, no…” You whined, your hips shifting over and over, despite Wanda trying to hold you still. 

“Are you begging?” Chuckled Natasha as her fingers unexpectedly pinched your nipple much harder than before, making you whine more.

“I-, uh, yeah…” You murmured, blush rising along your cheeks. 

“Well, then you need to do a better job than that, because you’re not convincing so far.” Said Natasha, which made you pout and your brain drift, which Wanda caught immediately. “Hey, color?”

“Green. I’m green. Just wanna cum.” You whined desperately as your hips buckled uncontrollably.  

“Well, you need to wait then. We like to take our time.” Said Wanda as she pulled her whole body away, her fingers slipping from your pussy, leaving you empty and desperate. She settled on your side instead, while Natasha stood up abruptly. 

“You’ve taken a strap before, right?” She asked, waiting for a response.

“Yes.” 

No. You’ve only ever taken fingers. 

Natasha nodded bluntly as she opened one of the draws, pulling out a strap and a harness, the sight making your mouth water and your pussy clench. You wondered if it was going to hurt, anxiety washing over you all of a sudden. You could only hope your face didn’t give it away, as you had absolutely no strength to hide it. 

She pulled the harness up and secured it swiftly, her movements clearly impatient. You looked up at Wanda, who stroked your hair, letting your poor, sensitive nipples rest. 

You felt Natasha kneel between your thighs, and you looked back at her. She held the strap in her palm and slowly but firmly stroked it against your clit, not putting in yet.  

“Color?” She asked and you were quick to answer. “Green.” 

She slowly started to put it in, bit by bit, letting you adjust to the size. You held your breath as you felt the sting of your pussy being stretched uncomfortably, but Natasha suddenly stopped and instead stroked your clit, which made you moan and your hips buck, forcing the strap deeper. 

She kept stroking your clit as she started to push it all the way inside and then stilled once it was all in, letting you adjust. Your legs squirmed as waves of pleasure kept washing over you. 

She started to pull out, but when she was about halfway out she pushed back in, slowly starting to fuck into you, her movements slow but deep. She got rougher as few moments passed, slowly starting to fuck you faster, but it was still relatively slow. Definitely nowhere near enough to make you cum, just enough to be pleasurable and to make your head feel like it was empty. 

But then suddenly her movements got faster, her hips slamming into you at an impossible speed, her thumb harshly stroking your clit. It made your eyes roll into the back of your skull, and you could tell you were close again. 

You let out a small scream mixed with a moan, choking out. “I-, fuck! I’m gonna cum!” 

Natasha’s eyes turned dark as she sternly clipped back. “No.” 

You let out a desperate whimper. “Please…” 

She sped up even more. “Ask me nicely.” 

“Ple-, fuck! Please, please can I cum?” You whined, almost screaming. 

She didn’t grant you an answer immediately, wanting to torture you just for a moment longer, enjoying that look of desperation in your eyes. She sped up her movements instead. And just when one single tear finally fell from your eye she spoke.  

“Cum.” Ordered Natasha, and you could’ve sworn you passed out in that moment. Your pussy kept pulsing for what felt like an eternity and a mix of moans and whimpers kept leaving your mouth. Your hips kept bucking uncontrollably while Natasha kept stroking your clit, her strap buried deep in you, hoping to prolong your orgasm. 

It was only when your whines increased in pitch that she finally stopped moving her finger along your clit, noticing you were becoming overstimulated. She gave you a few moments to calm down before mumbling something about pulling out, but you paid her no mind. 

Moments passed, but your breaths kept coming out laboured, while your mind remained empty. All you felt was someone draping a blanket over you and a hand gently stroking your hair. 

Suddenly Wanda spoke as she helped you raise your head, an object made of plastic pressing against your lips. “Have some water.” You drank eagerly, feeling like you hadn’t had water in ages. You briefly noticed that Natasha wasn’t in the room with you, but your head was too fuzzy to question her whereabouts. 

“That’s enough.” Said Wanda as she pulled the bottle away from your mouth, satisfied to see you drank more than a half and laid your head back on the mattress, her hand resuming its previous movement.

Once you woke up from the haze of the orgasm you remembered. Have sex and leave. 

You looked up at Natasha once she came back into the room, feeling the shyness return. “Could you hand me my phone, please? I need to order myself an uber.” 

She nodded and wordlessly picked up your phone from the chair where Wanda placed it along with your clothes. “Here you go.” 

“Thanks.” You murmured as you opened the app, finding a driver nearby and pressing ‘order’.

“It should be here in about 20 minutes.” You mumbled as you closed your eyes, suddenly feeling exhaustion wash over you. 

“Okay.” Replied Wanda as she mindlessly stroked your hair. You felt Natasha place something into your palm once you put your phone down. You opened your eyes briefly, wondering what it was. 

“Chocolate. It will make you feel better.” She explained as she stood up again, unable to stay still apparently. 

You let yourself rest for a bit, but when the app showed you your driver would arrive in 10 minutes you moved to get ready. Wanda handed you your clothes, and you began to dress yourself, which proved to be more difficult than expected since your limbs felt like jelly. 

They both walked down with you, Natasha joining you from one of the other rooms on the upper floor. Probably a bathroom. 

Natasha held the door open for you, while Wanda handed you your coat. “We’ll see you on Friday." Said Wanda as she watched you step outside, patiently waiting for your exit. 

“See ya.” You said as you turned around, your uber waiting for you at the bottom of the driveway. 

__________

They paid you so much money that you had enough to go get an actual bag of groceries for the first time in the past 3 years, but as you cooked in your very modest kitchen you felt completely numb. 

I had sex for money. 

You couldn’t even finish the food you made for yourself, feeling as if you were about to throw up every time you swallowed. You put the leftovers in the fridge, already knowing it was just a matter of time before it would end up in the trash can. 

As you laid in bed that night you opened the student portal, the unpaid tuition staring back at you brightly, and with a few simple clicks you sent the remaining amount of your tuition that was waiting to be paid.

If only getting the money was that simple. 

You turned off the screen when you received the automated confirmation email and tossed your phone aside. You turned towards the small window in your room and stared at the city, which was somehow still alive. 

You were hoping for the relief to hit you, and it was there, but it was so dull you could barely feel it. What was stronger was the unbearable feeling of disgust. Tears gathered in your eyes as realization of what you had done truly hit you. 

I slept with someone for money.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, and the night after that too, not being able to shake those feelings off as you constantly questioned how you could’ve let this happen. 

You felt that same disgust now as you laid in bed in their guest bedroom, while your backside was on fire. Could you really keep this up? Was the money really worth it? 

____________

The last strike of the cane landed on your backside and you couldn't help but let out a breath of relief. 

You didn’t move, your breaths coming out in shallow gasps as you tried to regain some sort of a composure. 

“Good?” Asked Wanda as she moved to take the cuffs off of your wrists. They cuffed your arms behind your back at the beginning of the scene but by now you could barely feel anything, your limbs numb from no movement. 

“Yes.” You answered robotically.  

You didn’t enjoy it much, the cane. It left a sting that forced tears that had nothing to do with pleasure, but every ‘Color?’ was answered with ‘Green’.

You were far too afraid that if you told them you didn’t enjoy something they would end the arrangement and you would be left without an income. An income that you desperately needed to get by. Rent, tuition, food, none of that would pay itself. 

“I’m gonna go grab some lotion for her.” Muttered Natasha as she eyed you, unsure if you were just recovering from the intense canning or if something was genuinely wrong. 

Natasha and Wanda were good dominants, asked all the right questions, negotiated everything, though their care was more on the impersonal side. You were not their girlfriend or a wife. You were simply someone they paid for a good time. To be their little toy for the weekend and then go home. 

Every move, every word, every decision told you you were simply a person providing a service and nothing more. You were okay with that, that was what you signed up for after all. And they did pay you well, each sunday ending with a generous transaction. 

You only saw them through the weekend. They were far too busy with their company during the week and liked to keep their weekday evenings free for relaxation while you were left juggling school and your two other jobs throughout the day. 

You felt the mattress dip by your side as Wanda slowly stroked your hair. “I hope these are not sad tears.” She murmured. 

You shook your head immediately. “I liked it.” 

You did not. You wanted to stop before it even started. 

It was them who introduced you to the world of BDSM, though they weren’t really aware of it. You told them you were experienced. 

It wasn't like you hated everything. Being tied up was nice, especially when they edged you or overstimulated you. The paddle was fun too, hurting just enough to make you crave more, while slick covered the inside of your thighs. Being called a ‘good girl’ made you squirm and your hips buck more than anything else. You truly found a lot of it enjoyable, but there were certain aspects of it that made you want to hide away and cry, but you often found yourself saying ‘yes’ and ‘green’ even when your body yelled at you to say ‘stop’. This was a job after all. You were hired to be their submissive. To fulfil their needs as dominants. 

So when Natasha suggested the cane you said yes, just like always. You were here to please them, that’s what they were paying you for. The least you could do was say yes. 

“Got the lotion.” Said Natasha as she approached you and sat down on your other side. You heard her open the cap and squeeze some of it onto her palm, the sound more sharp than normal. “This is going to sting a bit.” She muttered. 

You gave her a small nod, just to show her you heard her, though the second her palm touched your aggravated skin you hissed sharply. Natasha was quick to pull her hand away. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just stings.” You murmured, your voice strained. 

She only hesitated for a second, before her hand reached out again. “I know, the lotion will help. I promise.” 

The initial contact felt like being burned by fire, but you powered through and soon you were able to settle into the touch. The sting didn't immediately disappear, but it dulled enough to not make you whimper in pain. 

They gave you a few more minutes to rest, Wanda helped you roll onto your back and sit up, while Natasha handed you a bottle of water. They both watched carefully as you drank most of it, your mouth feeling like it was filled with sand. 

“Let’s get you to bed.” Said Wanda moments later as she helped you stand up. They had a special room where they did scenes, where they completely took you apart. Once everything was over they would always lead you to their guest room, while they quietly retreated to their own master bedroom. The simple gesture always left you feeling dirty, almost as if you weren’t worth their bed, but you knew the rules. This was strictly just sex, they were not looking for a companionship. 

Wanda helped you lay down when you reached the bed, while Natasha placed another bottle of water on the nightstand. “We’ll be in the bedroom if you need anything. Sleep well.” Said Wanda, her voice lowering. 

All I need is the money. 

“Good night.” You murmured as they closed the door to the guest room and the darkness engulfed you. You desperately tried to shake off the feeling of abandonment. You couldn't understand why you felt so down and shaken, you’ve done scenes you hadn’t really enjoyed that much before, but you were always fine. Why was this so different? 

Whatever. Nothing a bit of sleep won’t fix.  

You closed your eyes, hoping to will the sting away. The money you would receive tomorrow would make it all worth it. Even if you felt like a disgusting, used piece of toy. 

You hadn’t felt this disgusted with yourself since this arrangement started. That first night with them leaving you to question all your morals but you truly had no choice. 

______________

The end of your junior year was approaching quickly and with that the last tuition payment as well. You had it all under control, until you didn’t. 

The past three years were spent running between school in the morning, waitressing in the evening and bartending during the night. It was a lot and you barely had enough time to breathe, but you managed to pay the bills that needed to be paid, though you were often left with barely enough money to afford food. Sometimes all you had left was 20$, and sometimes you managed to save enough to feel like royalty, though you guessed actual royalty felt much different than you did. 

And then it all came crashing down on you in February. Your landlord unexpectedly raised the rent, which meant you had to pick up even more shifts. That was somehow manageable, but then your laptop broke down. And that was truly your downfall. You were in university, you needed a laptop to survive, but the repair cost so much you didn’t have enough for the upcoming tuition installment. 

You paid what you could, leaving a small amount of money in your bank account to afford some food, and promised yourself you would make up for it next month. The next month was the same, and your balance showed you were still almost one full tuition payment short. 

You worked hard to pay it off, and yet, when May arrived and it was time to pay the rest of the tuition off you were more than 2000$ short. 

Then one monday you received an email. Your hands shook and your heart stopped beating for a second as you saw the title. 

Final Notice: Outstanding Tuition Balance

You hesitated for a second before you opened it, wishing you could just pretend it didn't exist, but you knew that was not how life worked. You simply couldn’t run away from it. 

Tears gathered in your eyes as you opened the email. You couldn’t even read the whole message but the most important information stood out clearly. 

Outstanding balance of 4500$.

Failure to meet the deadline might result in a suspension of enrolment. 

By Monday, 25th of May, 1:00 PM. 

You had less than 7 days to get over 2000$. No amount of extra shifts was ever going to solve this, but you still tried asking. Both of your bosses turned you down, claiming there were no extra shifts to give. 

You tried asking for an extension too, claiming it was an extraordinary issue and that by September everything would be paid off. They turned you down too. 

The emergency loan didn’t work out either. 

You could drop out, that would technically make the problem disappear, but you didn’t want to give up now. You had one more year to get through and then you would finally be out of this mess. 

Just when it seemed like this would be the only way to get out of this situation, you overheard two girls talking in the lecture hall while you waited for your morning lecture to start. 

“Ugh, there’s this cute handbag I want to get, but I can’t fucking afford it.” Whined one of the girls. The sound made you wince, you could already tell what type of person she was and it made you despise her before even talking to her. 

“Show me.” Gasped the other girl, curious to see what it could possibly look like. The first girl swiftly pulled out her phone, the webpage with the handback already loaded as she turned the screen towards her friend. 

“It’s so cute though.” Dreamed the other girl, her eyes shining with adoration. 

“Yeah, look at the price.” Scoffed the first girl, the unhappiness clearly written across her face.  

Her friend gasped as she handed her the phone back. “Oh shit girl, that’s worth at least like one kidney.” 

The first girl whined again, the sound cutting through your head. “I know! Fuck it, I need to get myself a sugar daddy. That would solve everything.” 

They both laughed, obviously understanding it was just a harmless joke, but to you it sounded like salvation. 

The idea disgusted you. You were a lesbian, and having to interact with a man that you were not interested in at all left a bad taste in your mouth but you were desperate. 

Maybe we could just talk. Some of them just want dinner and that’s it, right?

You had less than 5 days left, you had to do something. 

That night you searched through the internet. Most of the websites felt much like a scam or straight up like a prostitution website but then you came across the one that would change everything for you. 

SugarDatingNYC

You clicked on it and you were surprised to see the simple, professional design. It seemed more like a corporate webpage rather than a place where one could pay someone for their time. 

The initial link only showed the basics. How it worked. Verification. Rules.

You didn’t see anyone’s profile. You needed your own profile for that. 

You didn’t immediately clink the ‘Sign Up’ button. You couldn’t believe you let yourself get to this point. There was nothing wrong with sex work, if that was what one wanted to do then good for them. But this was not the future you envisioned for yourself. Having to sell yourself just to afford basic necessities. 

You stared at the screen blankly for a few minutes, but your desperation won in the end. You did not want to be kicked out of the school. 

You signed up, but left your profile blank, your profile picture empty. You did not want anyone to see you on a webpage like this. You told yourself you would just look through to see who was on it, how much money they were offering for what type of stuff. 

Some just wanted to text, some wanted pictures, some wanted actual dinners. The money was nice but nowhere near enough compared to what you really needed. 

Then you looked at the profiles of people who wanted something more, something physical, and that’s when you found prices that would actually solve your issue, but the thought made you nauseous. Most of them were men, the profiles filled with sleazy photos and creepy descriptions, the language making you wince. 

No, you did not want to be a slave that would serve her master or a sex toy that would do anything for her daddy. 

No money was worth this. 

And then you stumbled upon their profile. Natasha and Wanda. A Married couple, both dominant, looking for a submissive, women only. Their profile was clean, professional, and it felt like finding a needle in a haystack. 

They wanted a dinner first, to discuss preferences and boundaries, promising a generous compensation. 1500$. It wasn’t enough but it was better than nothing and their profile was the only one that did not make you want to curl into a corner and cry. 

Your fingers hovered above the keyboard, wondering what you should write. Each message left unfinished before you deleted it. Frustrated, you put the phone away, deciding to let it be for now. 

The next morning you woke up even more drained than usual. School, work, another work, all of it passed with you barely noticing, your brain working on autopilot. Soon you were in the same place as yesterday, laying in bed and staring at that damn webpage. You found their profile again.

You pondered, but then you finally made the decision. You truly needed the money and there really was no time to waste. It didn’t matter to you that you weren’t a submissive. Or at least you weren’t aware of it. You weren’t totally clueless, you knew one side had control and the other didn’t, you knew people liked being tied up, liked being hit, but you’ve never tried it before so you couldn’t really tell if that was something you were into. It didn’t matter though. If they wanted a submissive, they would get one. 

You redid your profile, added a picture, a description, perfectly tailored the profile to what they wanted, adjusting the language over and over again to match their tone. 

And then you messaged them, your hands shaking with nerves. 

Hi, I really like your profile. Would you be up for a meet up? I’m available any time. 

You didn’t expect a quick response, after all it was middle of the night, and perhaps they didn’t even visit the website that often. You put the phone away as your heart beat dramatically. You couldn’t believe you’ve done this. You closed your eyes and tried to sleep, but your current situation left you feeling restless. It wasn’t until your alarm was almost about to go off that your brain finally decided to quiet down. 

You checked the webpage the second you opened your eyes and you couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed to find your message unanswered. They hadn’t seen it yet, which was a good sign, it at least meant they hadn't completely dismissed you, but it left you feeling uneasy. 

It was during the second lecture of the day, while the lecturer was setting up his presentation for the class that you decided to check the webpage again. Your eyes widened when you saw you got 2 new messages. 

Tonight, 8PM. Here’s the address. 

The second message was an address of a restaurant, which you immediately looked up. It was luxurious and expensive, located in a part of the city you don’t venture in accidentally. Clearly meant for wealthy people to visit.  

You were a bit startled to see there was no hello or an introduction, just a simple instruction with time and place. What if they’re serial killers? 

You shook the unwanted thoughts away and typed back.

I’ll be there. 

Your shift at the bar was supposed to start at 9 PM, there was no way you would be able to make it. You opened the chat with your boss and messaged him that you wouldn’t be able to make it tonight. 

_____________

“You think we should text her back?” Asked Wanda as she stared at the opened chat in Natasha’s phone. 

Natasha just shrugged her shoulders as she answered indifferently. “We can try. What do we have to lose?” 

“She seems eager.” Murmured Wanda thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, she probably wants the money.” Chuckled Natasha. She knew what the girls on these sorts of apps wanted. Easy money to buy luxurious stuff. It wasn’t like it bothered her, but she did find it humorous at times. 

“Let’s just meet up with her tonight, the worst that can happen is that she won’t show up.” Argued Natasha. 

“Okay.” Sighed Wanda, the excitement missing in her voice. 

They had a happy marriage, some would argue that it was too happy. They loved each other dearly and were more than enough for one another. But over the years their sexual desires grew, what started as a very vanilla sex slowly evolved into more kinkier stuff. However, that’s when they realized one important factor. Neither of them were truly submissive. Both of them could relinquish power every now and then, but the simple truth was that both women simply enjoyed being dominant more. 

It wasn’t a marriage ending type of issue for them, but they both secretly hoped for some sort of a solution. 

Neither of them expected for that solution to arrive so soon. 

They were hanging out with some of their friends, everyone in the circle having known each other for years at this point, which meant that no topic was too sensitive to discuss. 

It started off calmly, everyone simply catching up on what they’ve been up to lately, eating dinner and sharing wine. 

It was later that evening that the conversation turned into a very intense sexual discussion, each friend spilling one confession after another. Wanda and Natasha kept quiet, not revealing much about their own sexual escapades, since they preferred to keep that private. 

That didn’t last long as suddenly one friend turned to the married couple and bluntly asked. “So, who’s the dominant one?”

Both women stared in shock, not really sure what to say. “Uh, I mean, we both are?” Answered Wanda, her voice hesitant. 

“What do you mean?” Asked another friend, placing her elbows on the table as she stared at them intensely, smirk adoring her face. She was always the one that loved winding people up, and she was thoroughly enjoying this moment. 

“Well, we can both sub, but we both prefer being on the dominant side.” Answered Wanda again, a bit more sheepish. 

“So how does that work then?”

“It works just fine, thanks for asking.” Clipped Natasha, clearly getting tired of being interrogated about something so personal. 

“Oh, come on Nat. Don’t be so uptight.” Teased another woman, but Natasha was quick to bite back. “I’m not uptight. This is just none of your business.” 

“It works fine, but if neither of us are up for subbing then we’re just sort of stuck. We still have fun but it just feels unbalanced sometimes. It's becoming a bit more frequent, but it’s okay.” Answered Wanda quickly but honestly, hoping to close the topic. 

“Get a sugar baby then, someone who would sub for you. People will do just about anything, if you offer them enough money.” A different friend answered indifferently, throwing the information at them so casually as if she was discussing the weather. 

“But we don’t want to open our marriage.” Argued Wanda, disgust clearly written across her face. Natasha’s face was no different, clearly not thrilled about the idea. 

“Then don’t. Open your bedroom. Keep it professional, just a simple transaction. They come over, you guys fuck and they leave. No need for any romance.” Shrugged the same friend.

“I don’t know, that doesn’t feel right.” Murmured Wanda as she looked away, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious. 

“Give it some thought, hm? There are many websites meant exactly for this. This isn’t an unsolvable issue.” Said the friend as she offered them an honest smile, her look free of judgement. 

Natasha and Wanda didn’t open the topic that night again once they got home, choosing to let it sit for a bit. It was days later that Wanda decided to bring it up again, approaching her wife and confessing she was willing to give it a try if it was strictly a sex only arrangement. Nothing more.  

They had a thorough conversation about it, clearly laying down boundaries and what they both expected from it. And after that, they started doing their research, looking over different websites to use, neither of them were completely comfortable with it, but they figured it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

They searched through many websites, but none of them felt right enough until they found that specific one. It seemed professional, or at least as professional as it could be and they both quickly agreed to set up their profile there. 

They chose to keep it simple, only sharing what was necessary, there was nothing sexual to it, nothing suggestive, the whole profile looking close to a CV. 

And then…nothing. 

They didn’t reach out to anyone. The idea of reaching out to young girls and offering them money for sexual services felt predatory to them. So they just had their profile there, finding new messages from a few people every now and then, but none of it ever really worked out. 

It wasn’t like either of them was really disappointed, since neither of them truly believed it would work out. So they just left the profile there, deciding to just check if there was anything new every now and then. 

And then they found you, or rather, you found them. 

Were you, perhaps, going to be the solution to their problem? 

_______________

You almost backed out about 10 times before you finally got on a train to go to the restaurant. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. What would your younger self think? 

Your leg bounced uncontrollably the whole way there, and you kept considering just getting out of the train and leaving, but you needed the money. 

It’s fine. It’s just a conversation tonight. I don’t have to do anything with them. 

The walk from the station to the restaurant felt endless and too quick at the same time. You became increasingly more anxious the closer you got, your hands shaking in their pockets and your breathing laboured.

You showed up to the restaurant exactly 10 minutes early, wanting to appear professional, or as professional as you could be in a situation like this. 

You weren’t surprised to already see the married couple sitting by the table, recognizing them from the picture on their profile. They both seemed like the type to arrive at places early. You weren’t sure if you were glad to show up after them or not, approaching them felt weird, but sitting there and having them approach you would feel weird too. 

You walked closer carefully, internally trying to convince yourself to not run away. You kept walking until you stood directly in front of them, their eyes raised as they sensed a new presence and you suddenly felt even more shy at their intense stares. You hid your arms behind your back, not wanting them to see the intense tremor. 

“Hi, I-, I’m the one from the website. It’s nice to meet you.” You said, your voice shaking, as you tried to sound as polite as possible. 

“Hello. I’m Wanda.” Said the first woman and then nodded her head towards the empty chair to your left. “Sit down.” 

Your eyes darted to the other woman who simply offered. “Natasha.” 

You nodded as you pulled the chair back and sat down, it was then that you allowed yourself to look around and admire the restaurant’s interior. It felt and looked expensive, and you could tell the only thing you would be able to afford here would be a cup of water. Maybe not even that. 

“I-, uh, I don’t really know where to start-” You murmured frantically, wanting to fill the silence but Wanda was quick to interrupt you. “That’s okay. Let’s just keep it simple, hm? Choose something to eat, our treat.” 

Her voice was melodic, and so soft you found yourself nodding without even realizing it. You picked up the menu carefully and scanned what was inside. You weren’t surprised to see that you didn’t know the majority of the dishes, everything expensive and way over the top for a regular person. 

“Wine?” Asked Natasha when the waitress brought the bottle to the table.

“Sure.” You nodded absentmindedly. Alcohol was probably what you needed. 

“Did you choose something?” Asked Wanda after a few minutes and you nodded shyly as you showed her what you wanted. She offered you a gentle nod in response as she smiled. 

No one said anything while you waited for the waitress to come get your orders and you were desperate to fill the awkward silence. Though it seemed like you were the only one who felt the awkward atmosphere because the two older women seemed entirely at ease, almost as if this was no different than just a casual dinner with a friend they hadn’t seen in a while. 

Natasha ordered for all of you once the waitress got to your table, Wanda only making an occasional comment with few adjustments, while you sat quietly, playing anxiously with your fingers in your lap. 

Once the waitress left Natasha cleared her throat and spoke, her voice low. “So, what do you want out of this?” 

“I just-, I want money.” You murmured as you winced internally, shame washing over your whole body. 

I sound like a slut. 

“That we can do.” Chuckled Wanda, and her little teasing comment eased something in you.

Maybe you didn’t need to feel so ashamed. They were here for the same thing, they wanted this too. 

“Look, I know this is weird. Believe me, this isn’t what we typically do on a friday evening either, but this is just a conversation, okay? No pressure, we just talk and see where it goes.” Said Wanda, her lips pulled into a tiny but genuine smile. 

“Okay.” You nodded, unable to not return the smile. 

They didn’t ask you much about who you were or why exactly you were doing this, all they wanted to know was that you were all on the same page. They asked you if you had any experiences with BDSM and you nodded immediately, wanting them to believe you were the perfect fit. 

You continued the conversation as you ate, though most of it consisted of them explaining what they wanted from this while you nodded along. They didn’t go into great detail, mostly just clarifying that this was a sex only arrangement to them, it was to remain absolutely discreet, that you were to see no one else during this arrangement for safety purposes and that each night spent together would end with a payment of 3000$. 

Your eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when you heard how much money they would pay you. That would be more than enough to pay off the tuition. 

“Are you still interested?” Asked Natasha as she raised her eyebrows at you, not being able to hide her smirk.  

“Very.” You nodded immediately, earning yourself a chuckle from her. 

Wanda clasped her hands together, closing the conversation. “Well, for now, I think we talked enough. Would you like to come over tomorrow? We can discuss this in more detail, find some common ground and sign a contract.” 

“I-, yeah, sure. That works.” You said as you took a sip of the wine, both surprised and relieved to see this moving along so fast. The sooner this happened, the sooner you would get the money. If they kept their promise you would still get money tonight, but it wouldn’t be enough to pay off everything. 

With that Natasha stood up to go pay, while Wanda led you outside and made sure to exchange your phone numbers, reminding you to send them your bank account number as well. 

Wanda immediately replied to your message with an address. “This is our place. Be there tomorrow at 8 PM, okay?” 

“Of course.” You nodded politely, which made Wanda give you a gentle smile. “Perfect! It was nice meeting you.” 

“See you tomorrow.” Said Natasha as she returned, her hand moving to rest on Wanda’s lower back. They looked good together, almost as if they were from the front page of some expensive magazine. 

“See ya.” You said as you waved your hand awkwardly and quickly turned around in the direction of the train station, desperately needing to escape. 

There wasn’t anything wrong with them, they didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. They were professional but polite. It was the idea of this arrangement that made you feel uneasy. 

You will feel even more uneasy when you get kicked out of the school. 

You watched the people pass you by as you stood at the platform, waiting for your train to arrive. You wondered quietly what they were up to tonight, whether they’ve also done something they never thought they would have to do. 

You felt your anxiety rise any time someone glanced your way, feeling like everyone could see right through you. 

They know what you did. They know your dirty little secret. 

You barely registered the train arriving or getting on it, your body suddenly working on autopilot. It was only half way through the journey that you finally woke up from whatever trance you were in, the sound of a new notification on your phone waking you up. You pulled it out of your pocket, wanting to check what it was. 

The color drained from your face when you saw. Wanda transferred the money. 1500$ just like that. 

You released a shaky breath, finally feeling like that weight was lifting off of your shoulders. And as you left the train station and pressed your card against the gate to pay for your ride you realized that dread didn’t fill you, the sound of the money leaving your bank account not leaving you shaken for once. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

______________

You stared in awe as your uber dropped you off in front of their house. Normally you wouldn't spend your money on an uber, choosing to save that money instead, but when you looked up a way to get there you were horrified to find out you would have to walk for about an hour after getting off of the train, the whole journey taking close to 2 hours, while the uber would only take about 30 minutes. The neighbourhood was apparently so high end that there was no public transport going there, everyone simply drove. 

You thanked the driver and got out, slowly making your way to their front door. You felt smaller and smaller as you approached their house. You briefly wondered if only the two of them lived there. You understood the want for luxurious things and that people liked to treat themselves when they could afford it, but a house of this size was simply ridiculous. It could easily house at least a dozen people, probably even more. 

You stood in front of the door for a few moments, debating if you should text them you were here or ring the bell. You chose the latter, feeling like it was a bit more polite. 

There was no response for a while, and you wondered if you should ring the bell again, but just as you were about to reach out the door opened swiftly, revealing Wanda.

“Well, hello there.” She greeted you with a smile adoring her face.

“Hi.” You replied, feeling shy under her intense gaze. 

“Come on, come inside.” She said as she stepped aside to let you in, revealing the enormous hallway decorated with furniture and numerous paintings.

You couldn’t hide the look of amazement, which Wanda noticed as she gave you an amused smile. “You like it?”

“It’s breathtaking.” You sighed. It felt surreal to stand in a place like this.

“Well, thank you. We are very proud of this place.” Said Wanda as she led you deeper into the house. There was a massive living room to your right and an even bigger kitchen to your left. That was where she led you, while Natasha was already waiting there.

“Hi.” You greeted her quietly, her presence a bit more intimidating than that of her wife. 

“Hello.” She replied promptly as she stood up and went to open one of the cupboards. “How are you?” 

“Good.” You murmured as your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeves. You felt unsure of yourself. You felt like you didn’t belong in this place and you weren’t sure if you should sit down or wait for them to tell you something.

“Nervous?” She asked teasingly as she glanced at you over her shoulder.

You let out a tiny chuckle as you nodded, your hands dropping to your side. “A bit.”

“I would offer you some wine, but I think it’s better if we’re all sober for this conversation. So, how about some water?” She asked as she turned to you completely, holding three glasses in her hands, waiting for your answer.

“Water works.” You murmured as you stood still and watched her place the glasses on the table that separated you. A jug filled with water already placed in the middle. 

She sat down then, staring at you expectantly.

“Sit down.” Said Wanda suddenly as she pulled away one of the chairs from the table before circling it, choosing to sit next to her wife. 

You felt as if you were in the middle of a job interview. When you thought about it that was basically what it was. You were applying for a job, hoping they would choose you.

“So, we discussed the money last night. That still stands if you agree.” Said Wanda as poured some water in a cup, placing it in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah. That's fine.” You nodded immediately. 

“We also discussed how we expected this arrangement to work. That hasn’t changed. But what we would like to go through now is exactly what we want to do within this arrangement.” Continued Natasha, to which you only gave a small nod, showing her you were listening.

“You said you’ve had experiences in BDSM before, right?” She questioned.

“Yes, that’s right.” 

“So, what have you tried so far?” Asked Wanda and you wavered momentarily. You couldn’t back out now, so you scattered your brain for some specific activities you could tell them you engaged in. 

“Uh, well, tying up, spanking…just the usual stuff.” You murmured, hoping to hide your cluelessness behind shyness. 

“It is okay if you haven’t tried something yet. Each scene will be discussed beforehand to ensure we all know what’s going to happen and if we’re all okay with that.” Wanda replied, sensing your uneasiness.

Natasha suddenly pulled out a stack of papers, picking a specific one and handing it to you. 

“This is a list of our preferences, what is okay and what is absolutely off the table. Take a second to look at it and then we can discuss.” Said Natasha, her tone suddenly turning strict.

You nodded as you grabbed the paper and quickly scanned its contents.

Hard limits and Preferences.

You went through the hard limits first. The list wasn’t long but it mostly contained kinks on the more extreme side. 

Age play, anything involving bodily fluids, knife play, breath play, rape play.

You were relieved to see those written in there, knowing that you would have a hard time engaging in these things if that was what they wanted from you.

Then you scanned the preferences. That list was longer. Much, much longer. Some of the things written in there scared you, but you plastered on a polite smile and looked up at them. 

“Seems okay.” You tell them, feigning confidence. 

“How do those hard limits seem to you?” Asked Wanda, her voice taking on a softer tone. 

“I-, uh, it’s okay. I don’t like any of that either.” You answered quickly.

“Anything on the other side that is a hard limit for you?” Natasha asked, her tone stern. 

“No.” You answered immediately. It’s been going well so far, you didn’t want them to throw you out now.

They both raised their eyebrows at that, clearly not convinced that you would be into the exact same things as them.

“I mean, I haven’t done all of it, but I’m willing to try.” You stuttered, feeling shy under their intense stares.

“All of it?” Asked Natasha, obviously trying to catch you out in a lie, but you weren’t going to give up that easily. 

“Yes.” You nodded confidently.

“Well, okay.” She muttered as she picked up another paper, this one carried the same title but the rest remained plain. “Write your hard limits and preferences here for us.” 

Fuck. You did not remember everything they had written in there.

The hard limits one was easy, the list short enough to be memorized in that short amount of time but you wouldn’t be able to write down an exact copy of their preferences.

You wrote as much as you could and handed the paper back to them. They both went through it carefully before placing it next to their own list. 

“Hm, almost an exact match, you only left out a few things.” Murmured Natasha as she raised her eyebrows. She proceeded to read aloud those that you left out but you already prepared an answer. “I haven’t tried those, but I want to.”

Wanda gave you a soft smile as she spoke. “Let’s put those under soft limits, hm? We can start with what you already know and then we can move on to something new if you feel up to it.”

I don’t know any of it.

“Okay.” You murmured.

Natasha cleared her throat as she began speaking again. “Now safe words. We use the traffic lights system. Green for keep going. Yellow for slow down or I need a break. Red for stop. Do you use anything else or would you like to use those?” 

“No, those are fine.” You said immediately. 

“We will have non-verbal safe words in place too. In case you cannot speak. We can do taps or squeezes or you can raise your fingers. One for green, two for yellow and three for red. It’s important that you remember this, but we will make sure to always remind you before any scene starts and there will be regular check-ins during the scenes too.” Wanda added, staring at you intensely.

You gave them a small nod but Natasha’s stern voice quickly interrupted you. “Words.”

Your eyes widened momentarily, slightly taken back. Strangely enough, it made warmth bloom in your stomach, your hips shifting unconsciously. “I-, yes, sure. I understand.”

The talk continued, words like aftercare and subspace thrown around but you didn’t pay that much attention anymore, robotically nodding and agreeing to everything. 

Then they talked about the scheduling. You were to come over every Friday at 8 PM, do a scene and then leave. The same on Saturday, while Sunday and the rest of the weekdays were to remain free for both sides. This meant you would have to cancel your waitressing shifts those days, the times simply not working out but you were okay with that. The amount they would pay you would more than make up for it. 

And then the last step. Signing the contract.

“This is mostly just a technicality. Just something to make sure that all sides are safe and that we all have something to fall on.” Clarified Wanda, but your hand still shook slightly as you held the pen in your fingers. You couldn’t mess up now. 

You read through it swiftly, not really caring what was in it but not wanting to appear careless in front of them. And then you signed it. 

“Well, that’s that.” Said Natasha as she took the paper from you, putting it on top of the other papers. 

“Are you up for a scene tonight?” Wanda asked suddenly, which earned her an immediate nod from you. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, wanting to make sure you weren’t lying, but you weren’t going to butch. You nodded again, trying to appear more sure of yourself. “Absolutely.” 

“Alright then, let’s go upstairs.” Said Natasha as she stood up abruptly, her voice carrying a hint of finality. 

They both walked towards the grand staircase and you immediately followed after them like a lost puppy. You weren’t surprised to see the numerous doors once you reached the upper floor, none of them open, quietly hiding what was behind. You all walked all the way until the end of the hallway and then stopped abruptly as Natasha pulled out a key from her pocket. 

“This is where all our scenes will take place.” Said Natasha as she finally unlocked the door, letting you step in first. You were speechless at the sight. The whole room was red and black, filled with various instruments and furniture, but you could tell each and every one of them served its purpose. Some of them looked like torture devices rather than something that was supposed to bring pleasure. A shiver ran through you at the thought of some of these things being used on you. 

You felt Wanda gently squeeze your shoulder, her voice low, but not judgemental. “Still want to keep going?” 

“Yeah…” You murmured. 

I want to run away.

“Okay. I promise we'll keep it simple tonight.” Replied Wanda as she led you to the middle of the room, stopping right in front of the enormous bed. There was no duvet or blanket on it, only two red satin pillows, the mattress made of leather as well.

She stood directly in front of you, while her fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt, but she made no move to take it off yet. 

You looked up at her expectantly, but she only gave you a small smile. “Can I take it off?” 

Your head moved before you could register it, frantically nodding in agreement, but that wasn’t enough for her. “Use your words.”

“I-, yeah, you can take it off.” You murmured, growing impatient, but that seemed to be enough for her as she began to undress you and soon you stood completely naked in front of her. She stepped slightly to the side, letting Natasha see you properly as well. 

It felt strange to stand naked in front of them, while they both remained completely clothed, the action leaving you to feel weirdly exposed and vulnerable. You had to fight the urge to hide, especially when you saw Natasha sitting down in a chair and looking at you so casually. 

It made you nervous, but more than that, it made you feel humiliated. Humiliated to admit that you liked it, slick slowly but surely covering the insides of your thighs. 

“Color?” Wanda asked carefully, stopping for a second to observe you. You gave her a small smile as you spoke. “Green.” 

She nodded in acknowledgement, but her eyes were already turning darker with mischief. “I’ll start first, just with my fingers and my mouth. Gotta get you ready for Natasha.” 

You nodded wordlessly, the blunt language making you blush. It was unbelievable how they could talk about something so sexual and dirty so casually, almost as if they were discussing what they would have for dinner. 

Wanda inched closer to you, which instinctively made you back up, your knees bending once they hit the bed, making you sit down clumsily. 

“Lay back.” You laid down slowly, looking up at Wanda with nervous eyes.

“Thighs apart.” She ordered again, her tone turning more stern as she continued speaking. Your thighs parted automatically, wanting to please her. 

“Good girl.” Your heart stopped beating for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. You liked that more than you thought you would.

“Now make sure they stay there.” She added as she settled between your thighs, her lips beginning to pepper small kisses along the inside of your thighs. You squirmed a bit, finding it a bit ticklish, but your movements were quickly stopped when Wanda decided to bite down on the flesh, wordlessly warning you. It hurt, but it also made your pussy clench around nothing, making a small whine leave your lips. 

Suddenly you felt a single finger drag through your folds, ending at your clit, which made your hips buckle. “Hm, so wet already.” Mused Wanda, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying yourself. 

She teasingly pressed her finger against your clit, while she kept kissing and biting your thighs mindlessly. You tried to bite back your moans, feeling embarrassed about being so around when nothing even happened yet. 

“Don’t hold back. I want to hear it.” Said Wanda as she raised her head, beginning to slowly circle your clit, which made a moan come out of your mouth. Wanda smiled triumphantly. “That’s it.”  

Your head began to spin, and thoughts were becoming harder to string together. You’ve never felt anything like this before. 

You felt the bed dip by your side and you turned your head, finding Natasha sitting next to you, her legs crossed and face blank, though you could see a hint of something dangerously devilish in her eyes. 

Wanda stopped stroking your clit after a few moments, instead moving her thumb downwards before suddenly dipping it in your pussy. You yelped in surprise, your walls immediately squeezing around her thumb. 

“God, she’s soaked.” Murmured Wanda in awe as she looked up at Natasha. 

“I can see.” Mused Natasha, her fingers going to your nipples, mindlessly playing with them. 

Apparently Wanda was done playing around, because she pulled out her thumb only to push her index and middle finger in as her mouth latched onto your clit. Your back arched at the unexpected wave of pleasure, while moans spilled from your mouth. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” Murmured Natasha while her fingers kept softly pinching your nipples. 

Wanda kept switching between sucking on your clit and circling it with her tongue, while her fingers kept pressing against your g-spot. You could barely hold yourself together, the pleasure turning your brain into a soup. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed but you felt your pussy clench around Wanda’s fingers more and more as your moans kept getting louder. You knew what it meant. You were close, you were going to cum. 

All of a sudden, Wanda’s fingers stopped, her mouth pulling away from your clit and your eyes snapped open, tears threatening to spill. 

“I-, please, no…” You whined, your hips shifting over and over, despite Wanda trying to hold you still. 

“Are you begging?” Chuckled Natasha as her fingers unexpectedly pinched your nipple much harder than before, making you whine more.

“I-, uh, yeah…” You murmured, blush rising along your cheeks. 

“Well, then you need to do a better job than that, because you’re not convincing so far.” Said Natasha, which made you pout and your brain drift, which Wanda caught immediately. “Hey, color?”

“Green. I’m green. Just wanna cum.” You whined desperately as your hips buckled uncontrollably.  

“Well, you need to wait then. We like to take our time.” Said Wanda as she pulled her whole body away, her fingers slipping from your pussy, leaving you empty and desperate. She settled on your side instead, while Natasha stood up abruptly. 

“You’ve taken a strap before, right?” She asked, waiting for a response.

“Yes.” 

No. You’ve only ever taken fingers. 

Natasha nodded bluntly as she opened one of the draws, pulling out a strap and a harness, the sight making your mouth water and your pussy clench. You wondered if it was going to hurt, anxiety washing over you all of a sudden. You could only hope your face didn’t give it away, as you had absolutely no strength to hide it. 

She pulled the harness up and secured it swiftly, her movements clearly impatient. You looked up at Wanda, who stroked your hair, letting your poor, sensitive nipples rest. 

You felt Natasha kneel between your thighs, and you looked back at her. She held the strap in her palm and slowly but firmly stroked it against your clit, not putting in yet.  

“Color?” She asked and you were quick to answer. “Green.” 

She slowly started to put it in, bit by bit, letting you adjust to the size. You held your breath as you felt the sting of your pussy being stretched uncomfortably, but Natasha suddenly stopped and instead stroked your clit, which made you moan and your hips buck, forcing the strap deeper. 

She kept stroking your clit as she started to push it all the way inside and then stilled once it was all in, letting you adjust. Your legs squirmed as waves of pleasure kept washing over you. 

She started to pull out, but when she was about halfway out she pushed back in, slowly starting to fuck into you, her movements slow but deep. She got rougher as few moments passed, slowly starting to fuck you faster, but it was still relatively slow. Definitely nowhere near enough to make you cum, just enough to be pleasurable and to make your head feel like it was empty. 

But then suddenly her movements got faster, her hips slamming into you at an impossible speed, her thumb harshly stroking your clit. It made your eyes roll into the back of your skull, and you could tell you were close again. 

You let out a small scream mixed with a moan, choking out. “I-, fuck! I’m gonna cum!” 

Natasha’s eyes turned dark as she sternly clipped back. “No.” 

You let out a desperate whimper. “Please…” 

She sped up even more. “Ask me nicely.” 

“Ple-, fuck! Please, please can I cum?” You whined, almost screaming. 

She didn’t grant you an answer immediately, wanting to torture you just for a moment longer, enjoying that look of desperation in your eyes. She sped up her movements instead. And just when one single tear finally fell from your eye she spoke.  

“Cum.” Ordered Natasha, and you could’ve sworn you passed out in that moment. Your pussy kept pulsing for what felt like an eternity and a mix of moans and whimpers kept leaving your mouth. Your hips kept bucking uncontrollably while Natasha kept stroking your clit, her strap buried deep in you, hoping to prolong your orgasm. 

It was only when your whines increased in pitch that she finally stopped moving her finger along your clit, noticing you were becoming overstimulated. She gave you a few moments to calm down before mumbling something about pulling out, but you paid her no mind. 

Moments passed, but your breaths kept coming out laboured, while your mind remained empty. All you felt was someone draping a blanket over you and a hand gently stroking your hair. 

Suddenly Wanda spoke as she helped you raise your head, an object made of plastic pressing against your lips. “Have some water.” You drank eagerly, feeling like you hadn’t had water in ages. You briefly noticed that Natasha wasn’t in the room with you, but your head was too fuzzy to question her whereabouts. 

“That’s enough.” Said Wanda as she pulled the bottle away from your mouth, satisfied to see you drank more than a half and laid your head back on the mattress, her hand resuming its previous movement.

Once you woke up from the haze of the orgasm you remembered. Have sex and leave. 

You looked up at Natasha once she came back into the room, feeling the shyness return. “Could you hand me my phone, please? I need to order myself an uber.” 

She nodded and wordlessly picked up your phone from the chair where Wanda placed it along with your clothes. “Here you go.” 

“Thanks.” You murmured as you opened the app, finding a driver nearby and pressing ‘order’.

“It should be here in about 20 minutes.” You mumbled as you closed your eyes, suddenly feeling exhaustion wash over you. 

“Okay.” Replied Wanda as she mindlessly stroked your hair. You felt Natasha place something into your palm once you put your phone down. You opened your eyes briefly, wondering what it was. 

“Chocolate. It will make you feel better.” She explained as she stood up again, unable to stay still apparently. 

You let yourself rest for a bit, but when the app showed you your driver would arrive in 10 minutes you moved to get ready. Wanda handed you your clothes, and you began to dress yourself, which proved to be more difficult than expected since your limbs felt like jelly. 

They both walked down with you, Natasha joining you from one of the other rooms on the upper floor. Probably a bathroom. 

Natasha held the door open for you, while Wanda handed you your coat. “We’ll see you on Friday." Said Wanda as she watched you step outside, patiently waiting for your exit. 

“See ya.” You said as you turned around, your uber waiting for you at the bottom of the driveway. 

__________

They paid you so much money that you had enough to go get an actual bag of groceries for the first time in the past 3 years, but as you cooked in your very modest kitchen you felt completely numb. 

I had sex for money. 

You couldn’t even finish the food you made for yourself, feeling as if you were about to throw up every time you swallowed. You put the leftovers in the fridge, already knowing it was just a matter of time before it would end up in the trash can. 

As you laid in bed that night you opened the student portal, the unpaid tuition staring back at you brightly, and with a few simple clicks you sent the remaining amount of your tuition that was waiting to be paid.

If only getting the money was that simple. 

You turned off the screen when you received the automated confirmation email and tossed your phone aside. You turned towards the small window in your room and stared at the city, which was somehow still alive. 

You were hoping for the relief to hit you, and it was there, but it was so dull you could barely feel it. What was stronger was the unbearable feeling of disgust. Tears gathered in your eyes as realization of what you had done truly hit you. 

I slept with someone for money.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, and the night after that too, not being able to shake those feelings off as you constantly questioned how you could’ve let this happen. 

You felt that same disgust now as you laid in bed in their guest bedroom, while your backside was on fire. Could you really keep this up? Was the money really worth it? 

____________

Wanda and Natasha have been quiet lately. It’s more than a period of reservation; you’ve found that it’s a withdrawal from you and a pull to each other.  

The first few weeks, you’d told yourself it was just work. Their unit had suffered a loss on their last mission, and they were still recovering all the while planning a flawless extraction for captured S.H.I.E.L.D agents. So, you picked up the slack around the floor. Instead of letting either of them handle meals or trouble themselves with cleaning up, you decided to shoulder it all. 

Sometime after, you were assigned a solo mission with logistics that had quickly worn you down. Dealing with an influx of responsibilities as the team’s trust in you grew, pushed you into various team meetings, conferences, court appearances, and briefings. Coming back to a home that had to be reconstructed together with your dedication to the Avengers had become increasingly demanding. You fell sick from overwhelming stress by the end of the month.  

If Wanda or Natasha had noticed your never finished meals, thinning hair and frame, booming coughs, blemished and feverish skin, or inability to stay asleep, neither of them had said a thing. Internalizing it all, you turned back to slowly redistributing household tasks, eager to nurse yourself back to health and feel like a unit inside your own home again.  

That feeling never came back.  

You had all but withered away alongside them. For the last six weeks, you have approached them countless times looking for answers, a way to fix what’s been broken between the three of you. Each time, they had no response. Your distance continued to grow, and your relationship fractured.  

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d fallen asleep together, lingered in bed and begged each other for five more minutes before training, gone on a date, or sat around your dining room table accompanied by anything but the sound of utensils against dishware. The hope that the damage wasn’t irreparable had begun to dissipate. But you wanted to give it one last shot.  

It’s Saturday. They’d told you their visit to Maria’s would be a few short hours, that they’d be back in time for dinner, and like the idiot you were—you’d believed them. Only as you sat in the living room, waiting for the elevator to ding and F.R.I.D.A.Y. to announce their arrival, did you remember the last time they promised you a swift return and failed to uphold it.  

You grew wary the first time it happened. Blew up their phones for an hour. It took you pinging them to make Natasha finally call back and tell you not to wait up. It’s been five weeks since. 

You thought you knew better, starting dinner at half past seven, nearly an hour after the time you agreed on, now that you had a grasp on their new habit. But even two hours later, both of them were a no-show.  

You stared at your phone, curled into yourself on the couch, television off, eyes strained, and heart aching. The last text you sent stared back at you, the word ‘delivered’ sitting just under it.  

Had they even thought about you?  

The dinner you plated had lost its warmth an hour and a half ago, the wine cork was waiting to be popped, and dessert sat in the ice box waiting to be served. You were unsure whether it had begun to freeze or not. You didn’t really care anymore.  

You turned your phone off with a click and turned further into yourself. You knew this would be another night without any sleep, just endless thoughts about what you’d done wrong and how nothing you did would be enough to fix it if neither of them could show up for you.  

A part of you knew this relationship was coming to an end, but there was no way you wanted to let go. Wanda and Natasha owned you; both heart and soul. If it was over, what would be left for you to claim? In your mind, rebuilding your identity, your routines, your humanity, was an impossible feat if they weren’t beside you.  

If they cut this love short, would you go back home? Would you leave Earth, the friends and family made, the memories and its innocent people, behind? 

Before you could decide, a familiar ding and your favorite artificial voice sounded out across the floor. Your heart jumps as the smooth and heavy door of the elevator works itself open. The sounds of boots clicking and low conversation come to a stop, presumably, at the sight of you and the dining room. Your name is uttered softly by Wanda, and you flinch, readying yourself for the excuses to fall from their lips.  

“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll put it up so you can have it after training tomorrow.” Your voice was muffled by the pillow you’d stuck yourself onto, but you knew they’d heard you.  

“We just—” You cut Natasha off, sitting up quickly and facing the two of them. Your eyes were red, not from crying, only pure exhaustion.  

“I don't want to hear any excuses tonight. I understand. Could we just go to bed?” Natasha’s mouth stayed open, unable to respond. Wanda gives you a stiff nod and takes Natasha’s hand, dragging her to the bedroom.  

You follow behind them sluggishly, your palm itching as you stared at their intertwined fingers. Your eyes watered as you tried to recall the last time they’d held onto you with such mindless affection—out of habit even. You blew out a silent breath as you urged yourself to put away any feelings of discontentment for tonight.  

Instead of stripping along with them in the center of the room, you venture into the walk-in closet and drag your own clothing off its hanger and out of the drawer. You hear the shower turn on, and your lips tremble at the thought of them getting in together, without you. A tear slips down your cheek as you attempt to withstand the feeling of being left out once more.  

As they wash up, you trudge into the kitchen. Almost robotically, you pull out a container for each of you, all the tops color coded, and begin to push dinner from their plates into the glass bowls. Not having the energy, you rinse the dishes and leave them in the sink, place the wine back in its fridge, and wrap dessert up properly, expecting it to be eaten sometime tomorrow or placed in the team’s common room when Wanda and Natasha didn’t touch it. 

Yelena and Sam would surely be the first to start devouring it.  

A small smile builds as you imagine crumb covered mouths, and their pupils blown wide from true delight after having your planet’s equivalent of a sugar-loaded dessert bark.  

You linger in the kitchen for a bit longer, nails tapping over the marble countertop as you stare blankly at the backsplash. It was made entirely of stones from the forests of your home. In the middle of the night, it glowed just enough to pull out the right snacks for you and Natasha to share when neither of you could sleep.  

You missed the nights when Natasha’s eye would pop open minutes after your own. She’d slide out of bed and help you escape Wanda’s arms without waking her. You’d patter down the hall all while discussing which snacks to munch on and what package would make the least sound.  

Your breathing evens as you think of when you’d sit beside her, sometimes in her lap, as you spoke quietly about your dreams or plans for the next day. How, when your eyes drooped too low, she’d carry you back to bed where Wanda would receive you two with open arms. Her body was always warmed by sleep and a weighted blue comforter.  

Before them, you had never known a love so tender. 

Now, your midnight journeys to the kitchen were taken alone. Natasha feigned sleep these nights, you felt the way her heart would beat erratically against your back when she had nightmares; you knew she’d awoken when the light snores would change rhythm and vary too widely in volume. Somewhere along the way, you convinced yourself she wasn’t avoiding being alone with you, she just didn’t want to bother you or Wanda anymore.  

Not wanting them to come looking for you, though you doubted they’d seek you out, you shake yourself out of these thoughts and make your way back to the bedroom.  

You wish you’d chosen the couch that night.  

“Surely, you aren’t serious?”  

You feel yourself sway slightly at the sight of them. They looked snug as they cuddled up. The problem wasn’t how comfortable they looked without you. As you approached the bed, you expected them to separate. Your place had always been between them. Natasha on your left, Wanda on your right, rarely had it ever changed. For either of them to avoid separating from each other, especially as you lifted the covers, made you break.  

It was insulting, the expectant looks on their faces as Natasha patted the space beside her. You didn’t want to be left on the edge of things anymore. If anything, the only ritual holding you together these last few weeks was the space they made for you at the end of the night. If you couldn’t count on it during the day, there was always a pillow between them waiting for you at bedtime. Always.  

“What’s wrong?”  

Your hand clenched the fabric, arm still in the air as you stared in disbelief. “What’s wrong? You must be joking? Please, tell me you are joking and I will ignore it all tonight. Please.”  

You watch as Wanda’s brows furrow, and she shakes her head lightly before responding.  

“We don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

“You’re lying!” You throw the comforter down and back away from them. Their faces screw up at the action, and you can’t help but feel even more wronged by their growing exasperation.  

Natasha chooses to pacify you instead of fueling your anger, but there was nothing she could say that would truly calm you. “Detka, we’re tired. Can’t you just get in bed for us?”  

“Is that what you really want?” You stare at them.  

Wanda’s green eyes widen at your inquiry while Natasha’s darken at what feels like an accusation. It didn’t matter if they felt accosted by your words. You needed to let everything out, to understand what was going on. Such a small act of detachment has broken you. There wasn’t a dam strong enough to withhold your emotions in this moment.  

You suffered a healthy silence before the tears started pouring out.   

“I have existed on the outside of this relationship for weeks and now you cannot do me the service of a space in our own bed?” You gesture forward to their still tangled limbs.  

Wanda sits up then. “Natasha just asked you to sleep beside us, I’m not understanding what the issue is right now.” She runs a hand through her hair as she stares up at you.  

Despite standing above them, you felt as though no power was within your grasp. There were feelings of undiluted rage, resentment, and offense ready to spill forth with no true strength to hold back or tone correct.  

“I always sleep in the middle! That's my place! It’s mine! And you’re taking it away from me.” 

Your chest heaved as you yelled at them. You knew how immature you sounded; you must appear like a petulant child, you think. Regardless of how upset you were, none of it was starting to come out as you hoped. You wanted to be taken seriously.  

“It’s just one night, detka. Can we please just—” Natasha’s voice was grave, irritation started to creep into her tone, and it infuriated you. You were the only one here who deserved to feel annoyance in this situation. Your yelling was the least of what you felt compelled to do.  

“But it’s not just one night, Natasha. It is every day and then this night. What did I—Can you tell me what I did wrong? Please, I will fix it right now. I promise you.”  

“Honey...” Perhaps Wanda began to feel your power bubbling under the surface, how unstable your mind had become, how fast you’d gone from yelling to pleading—near groveling. You felt her resolve breaking before Natasha interrupted her.  

“We can discuss this in the morning. Here.” Natasha crawls out of bed and chucks open the blanket, throwing a careless hand towards its middle. “Get in bed.”  

You wanted to scream. It was as though she was telling you to shut up, and you couldn’t take it after their constant dodginess around this conversation. You were fed up with putting their fear of confrontation before your own heart.  

“I don’t want to have this talk in the morning. I want it tonight. Why are you avoiding me? This game of evasion is ruining me, and neither of you seem to care. Do I not matter to you anymore?”  

Your hands clenched and unclenched as you looked between them, Wanda in front of you and Natasha beside, both unwilling to speak first.  

“Right.” You nod and turn away.  

You begin to pace with your eyes cast down, chest heaving, and power thrumming within your veins. You didn’t want to appear as a threat to them, so you willed yourself to take deeper breaths and started counting.  

“That’s not what’s happening. We care about you, it’s just—”  

Wanda couldn’t seem to come up with the words.  

You scoff and speak half-seriously. “What? You don’t love me anymore?”  

The silence that followed was one that could kill. That couldn’t be the truth. You wouldn’t accept it.  

“You don’t?” Your voice trembled as you asked her, then turned to Natasha, searching conflicted eyes and taking in hesitant lips. “And Natasha?”  

“We do.” She found her voice.  

“Then say it.” Your power flickered about your frame, golden wisps and sparks pulsing in time with your racing heart. All of you was on edge, your senses had enhanced themselves without a thought, and it started to hurt—attempting to dampen them. You would fall apart if you didn’t hear it from them.  

“We love you, detka. But we can’t do this anymore.” You felt your heart break in an instance.  

They watch as you stumble backward, unable to fathom what’d been said. Your eyes began to flicker, your humanity began crumbling in front of them, and your foreign skin itched to be shed in the center of the room.  

Weaved into Wanda’s explanatory tone was bits of trepidation, understanding of the fragile state you were in, and a knowingness that her softness was needed in such a moment. “Natasha and I have been talking, and we think it’s best if our relationship ends here. We want different things.” 

“No, we don’t. We want each other. That’s enough. You told me that’s enough, so what do you mean ‘different things’?” You growled out, voice booming and falling between something human and something terrifyingly feral.  

“We want a baby. We want a family.” Natasha pushed out the truth through gritted teeth, her stature losing its perpetual strength.  

So that’s what this is about.  

Your eyes dimmed, losing its glow to the revelation. “So, what then? You’ve just been learning to live without me for six weeks? I told you that we could be a family, I just need time. We’ve talked about this again and again, and yet this is where we end up?”  

“We’re both getting older.” Natasha threw her hands up. “Earth is calm and most importantly, safe. Half of our team is building families outside of this tower. Everyone our age is getting married and having babies. We don’t wanna wait anymore and you have so much of your life ahead of you. You’ll live for half a millennium, of course our life paths won’t align. Any family we build together wouldn’t last a quarter of your lifetime. This is a reasonable decision. Please tell me you understand where we’re coming from.”  

When you don’t respond, she calls your name out softly, further imploring you to see things from their point of view.  

You blinked as you took in the assassin’s words, a dull ache starting to settle somewhere in your chest. Your tears wet the fabric of your night shirt as you sniffle.  

“The both of you have spent nearly a decade together. I ask for three years, and you find yourselves impatient?” You eye both women, disregarding their looks of remorse as you talk.  

“Children change everything and you know this. I wanted to share a life with you before we started a family. Our second anniversary is next month, and you couldn’t wait? I can't even say you should’ve thought about this before you committed to me, because you did—we did! All three of us have had endless conversations about what this means.” You gesture between you all. “Being together. And you promised me our love would come above all. You agreed to this and now you’re throwing it back in my face and asking me to understand how you’re abandoning me because of FOMO? I can’t believe this.”  

“I thought this could work, but we want more, and it’s not something you’re ready for. We love you, malyshka. We didn’t want to pressure you into this by giving you an ultimatum. We wanted to end this cleanly.” Wanda wanted you to trust they’d never intended to hurt you, but you couldn’t imagine this ending any differently. You were bound to be heartbroken; there was no easing this pain.  

“There was never going to be a way to end this cleanly. I love you. I don’t want to leave our connection behind. We can start a family, as long as it’s with you, it doesn’t matter. Please don’t leave me. We can have a baby!” You cried into your hands.  

Wanda’s next words are chosen carefully; nonetheless, they tear away at you more than she could know. “We’re doing this for you, as much as we’re doing this for ourselves.”  

“Our relationship won’t account for ten percent of your lifespan. You are bound to move past us.” Natasha adds.  

You didn’t know if it was an attempt to assuage your anguish or to alleviate the gross amount of guilt that’d been choking them from the beginning.  

“Stop saying that! Stop thinking you know what’s best for me.”  

Your legs had finally given out, and you slumped to the floor with wet palms covering your ears. They both move as if to catch you before drawing back outstretched arms, finding themselves too far and too late. 

No matter how enhanced your senses had become, the sheer volume of your own bawling drowns out the sounds of Wanda’s not-so-quiet tears. With you curled into yourself, there was no way to observe how this was wrecking them as well. Natasha’s hands shook violently by her side, she tries folding them together, wanting to hide it, needing it to stop, but there was no use. She sits on the edge of the bed and Wanda’s head immediately meets her back and within seconds her shirt is dampened.  

Her hands cover her face, mirroring your earlier position, and her elbows rest on her knees, evidence of her pain wets her wrists while she shakes, silent cries rocking her body. Wanda and Natasha knew they’d gone about this the wrong way. Over the weeks, it ate them alive to see your face fall after every shot at confrontation and reconnection.  

The room was filled with shuddering breaths and sniffles as you three spent minutes collecting yourselves. None of you could look at each other, afraid of choking up again and descending into hysteria. 

You were the first to speak.  

“Since the day we met, I was prepared to love you both for every second lived. You’re demeaning the worth of our relationship, in my life, without truly considering me. This isn’t a matter of statistics, Natasha, it’s just love. I see a full life with you. Both of you will age. I understand that. I will always take care of you, our children, their children, and their families. I would commit an eternity to doing so if I had to. All I have asked for is time, and you couldn’t wait another year before bringing this up again?” You stared vacantly at the wood floors, your fingers scratched at your pajama pants, and you hiccupped between words.  

Wanda wiped her nose. It glowed a sickly red, rosy and stuffed up by mucus. “That isn’t fair to you. You should be with someone to fulfill you for the rest of your days. Natasha and I can’t give that to you.” Her voice cracks at the end, and again she’s in tears.  

You raise your head to look at them now, eager to make them hear the way you yearned for them. The women wiped their faces constantly. Their skin grew more and more flushed from friction. It was a tragic sight, something you knew would stick with you forever. 

“Just the mere thought of either of you is sustenance. I want you and that’s all that matters. Please, think this through.”  

Nat’s voice was thick with emotion, no longer able to stay strong for anyone in the room. “We have. For six weeks, we have.”  

A drastic wave of passivity crashed over you, bringing you to terms with your inability to hold onto a devastating love. “So, this is why you wanted to talk in the morning? A little more time to absolve yourselves of this guilt?”  

They both shook their heads frantically, not wanting you to misunderstand them, but it was futile. Nothing would get through to you anymore. You felt listless. Your body had experienced severe emotional whiplash within the last three hours, and the last thirty minutes had effectively killed any light inside of you.  

“We wanted each of us to have a clear head.” The witch muttered ruefully.  

“Right.” Your lips twitched.  

Then, with all the strength you could gather, you lifted yourself up and padded into the bathroom. You looked through cabinets and drawers until you found what you needed. At some point, both Wanda and Natasha had made their way to the ensuite’s entrance, watching with tear-stricken faces as you packed up your toiletries.  

“What are you doing?” Wanda whispers, somewhat apprehensive after witnessing you, void of emotion, work around the counters.  

“Leaving.” You zip up the bag and brush past them into the room, heading for the closet.  

You find a step stool somewhere near the door and unfold it, already scanning for what you needed on the high shelves.  

“We can sleep in the guest room, you shouldn’t have to leave.” Natasha offered, making an effort to provide you with some kind of familiar comfort after such an intense night.  

You didn’t reply. They would have each other in an unfamiliar room. There was no way you would fall asleep, wrapped in sheets that once held together the love of three, alone.  

Only when they saw you pull down a duffle bag did they understand you weren’t just going down the hall, you were truly leaving. You don’t pay mind to their stuttering heartbeats and withdrawn breath; instead, you fling clothing into the bag, not truly comprehending what was going in or staying out. You were unsure if half the clothes inside were even yours. You didn’t know, you just wanted enough to cover your ass and get out.  

“It’s late, detka. Stay home with us for now, please.” Wanda’s hand fell lightly on your shoulder as she begged you.  

Your skin burned with her touch and gold flared under your skin. You craved her, your power craved her magic, and you could barely resist her. If Natasha touched you next, you weren’t sure you’d be able to leave. Understanding this, you zip up the duffle overhastily and whip around with a cutting glare, hoping you looked as threatening as possible.  

Your eyes flash gold as you bark out. “Do not call me that.”  

“I’m sorry.” Wanda squeaked out, stepping back in submission. 

It ought to have made you pause, the sincere apology and pitiful sound that’d left your witch—the witch. But you push the urge to double back aside, needing to escape this floor as soon as possible.  

Natasha held herself back from reprimand—because what right did she hold now—as she questioned you. “Are you staying in the tower at least?”  

You didn’t know before, but hearing it being asked aloud made you resistant to the idea. You wanted to be as far away from them as possible, but with a mission pending and the team counting on your participation, the option of going off-world was null.  

“Don’t worry about it. I can take care of myself, Natalia.” You catch the way she flinches as you slide past her and into the hall, making a beeline for the elevator door.  

You were surprised she didn’t voice her vexation at the way you addressed her. It always peeved her when you, or Wanda, would use the name non-affectionately. “That’s not the point and you know it.” 

They’re both hot on your heels as you speed through the floor, calling out for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to send the elevator up.  

“Well that kinda became the point when you decided to break up with me.” You bite back, anger starting to fight its way to the surface again.  

It’s easily swallowed down with Wanda’s next words, only leaving annoyance in its place. Annoyance at how a steady and warm tone could begin to pull you back into her so easily, annoyance at how she believed either of them were due any answers from you, and a annoyance that you knew would, eventually, only simmer into guilt.   

“We’ll be at peace knowing where you’ll be.”  

The elevator dings and you step in, unwilling to face them as you go.  

“You don’t deserve it.” 

The two of them watch the door close, marking this chapter unfinished. They fought the ache as they stood there, along with the feeling that called them to chase after you, apologize, and make things right. A chill shot up Wanda’s spine as her body began to process her standing, barefoot, on the foyer’s tile. She walks over to the living room, seeking a plush warmth that would never reach her heart, when she spots it.  

“She didn’t take her phone, Nat.” 

Wanda and Natasha have been quiet lately. It’s more than a period of reservation; you’ve found that it’s a withdrawal from you and a pull to each other.  

The first few weeks, you’d told yourself it was just work. Their unit had suffered a loss on their last mission, and they were still recovering all the while planning a flawless extraction for captured S.H.I.E.L.D agents. So, you picked up the slack around the floor. Instead of letting either of them handle meals or trouble themselves with cleaning up, you decided to shoulder it all. 

Sometime after, you were assigned a solo mission with logistics that had quickly worn you down. Dealing with an influx of responsibilities as the team’s trust in you grew, pushed you into various team meetings, conferences, court appearances, and briefings. Coming back to a home that had to be reconstructed together with your dedication to the Avengers had become increasingly demanding. You fell sick from overwhelming stress by the end of the month.  

If Wanda or Natasha had noticed your never finished meals, thinning hair and frame, booming coughs, blemished and feverish skin, or inability to stay asleep, neither of them had said a thing. Internalizing it all, you turned back to slowly redistributing household tasks, eager to nurse yourself back to health and feel like a unit inside your own home again.  

That feeling never came back.  

You had all but withered away alongside them. For the last six weeks, you have approached them countless times looking for answers, a way to fix what’s been broken between the three of you. Each time, they had no response. Your distance continued to grow, and your relationship fractured.  

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d fallen asleep together, lingered in bed and begged each other for five more minutes before training, gone on a date, or sat around your dining room table accompanied by anything but the sound of utensils against dishware. The hope that the damage wasn’t irreparable had begun to dissipate. But you wanted to give it one last shot.  

It’s Saturday. They’d told you their visit to Maria’s would be a few short hours, that they’d be back in time for dinner, and like the idiot you were—you’d believed them. Only as you sat in the living room, waiting for the elevator to ding and F.R.I.D.A.Y. to announce their arrival, did you remember the last time they promised you a swift return and failed to uphold it.  

You grew wary the first time it happened. Blew up their phones for an hour. It took you pinging them to make Natasha finally call back and tell you not to wait up. It’s been five weeks since. 

You thought you knew better, starting dinner at half past seven, nearly an hour after the time you agreed on, now that you had a grasp on their new habit. But even two hours later, both of them were a no-show.  

You stared at your phone, curled into yourself on the couch, television off, eyes strained, and heart aching. The last text you sent stared back at you, the word ‘delivered’ sitting just under it.  

Had they even thought about you?  

The dinner you plated had lost its warmth an hour and a half ago, the wine cork was waiting to be popped, and dessert sat in the ice box waiting to be served. You were unsure whether it had begun to freeze or not. You didn’t really care anymore.  

You turned your phone off with a click and turned further into yourself. You knew this would be another night without any sleep, just endless thoughts about what you’d done wrong and how nothing you did would be enough to fix it if neither of them could show up for you.  

A part of you knew this relationship was coming to an end, but there was no way you wanted to let go. Wanda and Natasha owned you; both heart and soul. If it was over, what would be left for you to claim? In your mind, rebuilding your identity, your routines, your humanity, was an impossible feat if they weren’t beside you.  

If they cut this love short, would you go back home? Would you leave Earth, the friends and family made, the memories and its innocent people, behind? 

Before you could decide, a familiar ding and your favorite artificial voice sounded out across the floor. Your heart jumps as the smooth and heavy door of the elevator works itself open. The sounds of boots clicking and low conversation come to a stop, presumably, at the sight of you and the dining room. Your name is uttered softly by Wanda, and you flinch, readying yourself for the excuses to fall from their lips.  

“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll put it up so you can have it after training tomorrow.” Your voice was muffled by the pillow you’d stuck yourself onto, but you knew they’d heard you.  

“We just—” You cut Natasha off, sitting up quickly and facing the two of them. Your eyes were red, not from crying, only pure exhaustion.  

“I don't want to hear any excuses tonight. I understand. Could we just go to bed?” Natasha’s mouth stayed open, unable to respond. Wanda gives you a stiff nod and takes Natasha’s hand, dragging her to the bedroom.  

You follow behind them sluggishly, your palm itching as you stared at their intertwined fingers. Your eyes watered as you tried to recall the last time they’d held onto you with such mindless affection—out of habit even. You blew out a silent breath as you urged yourself to put away any feelings of discontentment for tonight.  

Instead of stripping along with them in the center of the room, you venture into the walk-in closet and drag your own clothing off its hanger and out of the drawer. You hear the shower turn on, and your lips tremble at the thought of them getting in together, without you. A tear slips down your cheek as you attempt to withstand the feeling of being left out once more.  

As they wash up, you trudge into the kitchen. Almost robotically, you pull out a container for each of you, all the tops color coded, and begin to push dinner from their plates into the glass bowls. Not having the energy, you rinse the dishes and leave them in the sink, place the wine back in its fridge, and wrap dessert up properly, expecting it to be eaten sometime tomorrow or placed in the team’s common room when Wanda and Natasha didn’t touch it. 

Yelena and Sam would surely be the first to start devouring it.  

A small smile builds as you imagine crumb covered mouths, and their pupils blown wide from true delight after having your planet’s equivalent of a sugar-loaded dessert bark.  

You linger in the kitchen for a bit longer, nails tapping over the marble countertop as you stare blankly at the backsplash. It was made entirely of stones from the forests of your home. In the middle of the night, it glowed just enough to pull out the right snacks for you and Natasha to share when neither of you could sleep.  

You missed the nights when Natasha’s eye would pop open minutes after your own. She’d slide out of bed and help you escape Wanda’s arms without waking her. You’d patter down the hall all while discussing which snacks to munch on and what package would make the least sound.  

Your breathing evens as you think of when you’d sit beside her, sometimes in her lap, as you spoke quietly about your dreams or plans for the next day. How, when your eyes drooped too low, she’d carry you back to bed where Wanda would receive you two with open arms. Her body was always warmed by sleep and a weighted blue comforter.  

Before them, you had never known a love so tender. 

Now, your midnight journeys to the kitchen were taken alone. Natasha feigned sleep these nights, you felt the way her heart would beat erratically against your back when she had nightmares; you knew she’d awoken when the light snores would change rhythm and vary too widely in volume. Somewhere along the way, you convinced yourself she wasn’t avoiding being alone with you, she just didn’t want to bother you or Wanda anymore.  

Not wanting them to come looking for you, though you doubted they’d seek you out, you shake yourself out of these thoughts and make your way back to the bedroom.  

You wish you’d chosen the couch that night.  

“Surely, you aren’t serious?”  

You feel yourself sway slightly at the sight of them. They looked snug as they cuddled up. The problem wasn’t how comfortable they looked without you. As you approached the bed, you expected them to separate. Your place had always been between them. Natasha on your left, Wanda on your right, rarely had it ever changed. For either of them to avoid separating from each other, especially as you lifted the covers, made you break.  

It was insulting, the expectant looks on their faces as Natasha patted the space beside her. You didn’t want to be left on the edge of things anymore. If anything, the only ritual holding you together these last few weeks was the space they made for you at the end of the night. If you couldn’t count on it during the day, there was always a pillow between them waiting for you at bedtime. Always.  

“What’s wrong?”  

Your hand clenched the fabric, arm still in the air as you stared in disbelief. “What’s wrong? You must be joking? Please, tell me you are joking and I will ignore it all tonight. Please.”  

You watch as Wanda’s brows furrow, and she shakes her head lightly before responding.  

“We don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

“You’re lying!” You throw the comforter down and back away from them. Their faces screw up at the action, and you can’t help but feel even more wronged by their growing exasperation.  

Natasha chooses to pacify you instead of fueling your anger, but there was nothing she could say that would truly calm you. “Detka, we’re tired. Can’t you just get in bed for us?”  

“Is that what you really want?” You stare at them.  

Wanda’s green eyes widen at your inquiry while Natasha’s darken at what feels like an accusation. It didn’t matter if they felt accosted by your words. You needed to let everything out, to understand what was going on. Such a small act of detachment has broken you. There wasn’t a dam strong enough to withhold your emotions in this moment.  

You suffered a healthy silence before the tears started pouring out.   

“I have existed on the outside of this relationship for weeks and now you cannot do me the service of a space in our own bed?” You gesture forward to their still tangled limbs.  

Wanda sits up then. “Natasha just asked you to sleep beside us, I’m not understanding what the issue is right now.” She runs a hand through her hair as she stares up at you.  

Despite standing above them, you felt as though no power was within your grasp. There were feelings of undiluted rage, resentment, and offense ready to spill forth with no true strength to hold back or tone correct.  

“I always sleep in the middle! That's my place! It’s mine! And you’re taking it away from me.” 

Your chest heaved as you yelled at them. You knew how immature you sounded; you must appear like a petulant child, you think. Regardless of how upset you were, none of it was starting to come out as you hoped. You wanted to be taken seriously.  

“It’s just one night, detka. Can we please just—” Natasha’s voice was grave, irritation started to creep into her tone, and it infuriated you. You were the only one here who deserved to feel annoyance in this situation. Your yelling was the least of what you felt compelled to do.  

“But it’s not just one night, Natasha. It is every day and then this night. What did I—Can you tell me what I did wrong? Please, I will fix it right now. I promise you.”  

“Honey...” Perhaps Wanda began to feel your power bubbling under the surface, how unstable your mind had become, how fast you’d gone from yelling to pleading—near groveling. You felt her resolve breaking before Natasha interrupted her.  

“We can discuss this in the morning. Here.” Natasha crawls out of bed and chucks open the blanket, throwing a careless hand towards its middle. “Get in bed.”  

You wanted to scream. It was as though she was telling you to shut up, and you couldn’t take it after their constant dodginess around this conversation. You were fed up with putting their fear of confrontation before your own heart.  

“I don’t want to have this talk in the morning. I want it tonight. Why are you avoiding me? This game of evasion is ruining me, and neither of you seem to care. Do I not matter to you anymore?”  

Your hands clenched and unclenched as you looked between them, Wanda in front of you and Natasha beside, both unwilling to speak first.  

“Right.” You nod and turn away.  

You begin to pace with your eyes cast down, chest heaving, and power thrumming within your veins. You didn’t want to appear as a threat to them, so you willed yourself to take deeper breaths and started counting.  

“That’s not what’s happening. We care about you, it’s just—”  

Wanda couldn’t seem to come up with the words.  

You scoff and speak half-seriously. “What? You don’t love me anymore?”  

The silence that followed was one that could kill. That couldn’t be the truth. You wouldn’t accept it.  

“You don’t?” Your voice trembled as you asked her, then turned to Natasha, searching conflicted eyes and taking in hesitant lips. “And Natasha?”  

“We do.” She found her voice.  

“Then say it.” Your power flickered about your frame, golden wisps and sparks pulsing in time with your racing heart. All of you was on edge, your senses had enhanced themselves without a thought, and it started to hurt—attempting to dampen them. You would fall apart if you didn’t hear it from them.  

“We love you, detka. But we can’t do this anymore.” You felt your heart break in an instance.  

They watch as you stumble backward, unable to fathom what’d been said. Your eyes began to flicker, your humanity began crumbling in front of them, and your foreign skin itched to be shed in the center of the room.  

Weaved into Wanda’s explanatory tone was bits of trepidation, understanding of the fragile state you were in, and a knowingness that her softness was needed in such a moment. “Natasha and I have been talking, and we think it’s best if our relationship ends here. We want different things.” 

“No, we don’t. We want each other. That’s enough. You told me that’s enough, so what do you mean ‘different things’?” You growled out, voice booming and falling between something human and something terrifyingly feral.  

“We want a baby. We want a family.” Natasha pushed out the truth through gritted teeth, her stature losing its perpetual strength.  

So that’s what this is about.  

Your eyes dimmed, losing its glow to the revelation. “So, what then? You’ve just been learning to live without me for six weeks? I told you that we could be a family, I just need time. We’ve talked about this again and again, and yet this is where we end up?”  

“We’re both getting older.” Natasha threw her hands up. “Earth is calm and most importantly, safe. Half of our team is building families outside of this tower. Everyone our age is getting married and having babies. We don’t wanna wait anymore and you have so much of your life ahead of you. You’ll live for half a millennium, of course our life paths won’t align. Any family we build together wouldn’t last a quarter of your lifetime. This is a reasonable decision. Please tell me you understand where we’re coming from.”  

When you don’t respond, she calls your name out softly, further imploring you to see things from their point of view.  

You blinked as you took in the assassin’s words, a dull ache starting to settle somewhere in your chest. Your tears wet the fabric of your night shirt as you sniffle.  

“The both of you have spent nearly a decade together. I ask for three years, and you find yourselves impatient?” You eye both women, disregarding their looks of remorse as you talk.  

“Children change everything and you know this. I wanted to share a life with you before we started a family. Our second anniversary is next month, and you couldn’t wait? I can't even say you should’ve thought about this before you committed to me, because you did—we did! All three of us have had endless conversations about what this means.” You gesture between you all. “Being together. And you promised me our love would come above all. You agreed to this and now you’re throwing it back in my face and asking me to understand how you’re abandoning me because of FOMO? I can’t believe this.”  

“I thought this could work, but we want more, and it’s not something you’re ready for. We love you, malyshka. We didn’t want to pressure you into this by giving you an ultimatum. We wanted to end this cleanly.” Wanda wanted you to trust they’d never intended to hurt you, but you couldn’t imagine this ending any differently. You were bound to be heartbroken; there was no easing this pain.  

“There was never going to be a way to end this cleanly. I love you. I don’t want to leave our connection behind. We can start a family, as long as it’s with you, it doesn’t matter. Please don’t leave me. We can have a baby!” You cried into your hands.  

Wanda’s next words are chosen carefully; nonetheless, they tear away at you more than she could know. “We’re doing this for you, as much as we’re doing this for ourselves.”  

“Our relationship won’t account for ten percent of your lifespan. You are bound to move past us.” Natasha adds.  

You didn’t know if it was an attempt to assuage your anguish or to alleviate the gross amount of guilt that’d been choking them from the beginning.  

“Stop saying that! Stop thinking you know what’s best for me.”  

Your legs had finally given out, and you slumped to the floor with wet palms covering your ears. They both move as if to catch you before drawing back outstretched arms, finding themselves too far and too late. 

No matter how enhanced your senses had become, the sheer volume of your own bawling drowns out the sounds of Wanda’s not-so-quiet tears. With you curled into yourself, there was no way to observe how this was wrecking them as well. Natasha’s hands shook violently by her side, she tries folding them together, wanting to hide it, needing it to stop, but there was no use. She sits on the edge of the bed and Wanda’s head immediately meets her back and within seconds her shirt is dampened.  

Her hands cover her face, mirroring your earlier position, and her elbows rest on her knees, evidence of her pain wets her wrists while she shakes, silent cries rocking her body. Wanda and Natasha knew they’d gone about this the wrong way. Over the weeks, it ate them alive to see your face fall after every shot at confrontation and reconnection.  

The room was filled with shuddering breaths and sniffles as you three spent minutes collecting yourselves. None of you could look at each other, afraid of choking up again and descending into hysteria. 

You were the first to speak.  

“Since the day we met, I was prepared to love you both for every second lived. You’re demeaning the worth of our relationship, in my life, without truly considering me. This isn’t a matter of statistics, Natasha, it’s just love. I see a full life with you. Both of you will age. I understand that. I will always take care of you, our children, their children, and their families. I would commit an eternity to doing so if I had to. All I have asked for is time, and you couldn’t wait another year before bringing this up again?” You stared vacantly at the wood floors, your fingers scratched at your pajama pants, and you hiccupped between words.  

Wanda wiped her nose. It glowed a sickly red, rosy and stuffed up by mucus. “That isn’t fair to you. You should be with someone to fulfill you for the rest of your days. Natasha and I can’t give that to you.” Her voice cracks at the end, and again she’s in tears.  

You raise your head to look at them now, eager to make them hear the way you yearned for them. The women wiped their faces constantly. Their skin grew more and more flushed from friction. It was a tragic sight, something you knew would stick with you forever. 

“Just the mere thought of either of you is sustenance. I want you and that’s all that matters. Please, think this through.”  

Nat’s voice was thick with emotion, no longer able to stay strong for anyone in the room. “We have. For six weeks, we have.”  

A drastic wave of passivity crashed over you, bringing you to terms with your inability to hold onto a devastating love. “So, this is why you wanted to talk in the morning? A little more time to absolve yourselves of this guilt?”  

They both shook their heads frantically, not wanting you to misunderstand them, but it was futile. Nothing would get through to you anymore. You felt listless. Your body had experienced severe emotional whiplash within the last three hours, and the last thirty minutes had effectively killed any light inside of you.  

“We wanted each of us to have a clear head.” The witch muttered ruefully.  

“Right.” Your lips twitched.  

Then, with all the strength you could gather, you lifted yourself up and padded into the bathroom. You looked through cabinets and drawers until you found what you needed. At some point, both Wanda and Natasha had made their way to the ensuite’s entrance, watching with tear-stricken faces as you packed up your toiletries.  

“What are you doing?” Wanda whispers, somewhat apprehensive after witnessing you, void of emotion, work around the counters.  

“Leaving.” You zip up the bag and brush past them into the room, heading for the closet.  

You find a step stool somewhere near the door and unfold it, already scanning for what you needed on the high shelves.  

“We can sleep in the guest room, you shouldn’t have to leave.” Natasha offered, making an effort to provide you with some kind of familiar comfort after such an intense night.  

You didn’t reply. They would have each other in an unfamiliar room. There was no way you would fall asleep, wrapped in sheets that once held together the love of three, alone.  

Only when they saw you pull down a duffle bag did they understand you weren’t just going down the hall, you were truly leaving. You don’t pay mind to their stuttering heartbeats and withdrawn breath; instead, you fling clothing into the bag, not truly comprehending what was going in or staying out. You were unsure if half the clothes inside were even yours. You didn’t know, you just wanted enough to cover your ass and get out.  

“It’s late, detka. Stay home with us for now, please.” Wanda’s hand fell lightly on your shoulder as she begged you.  

Your skin burned with her touch and gold flared under your skin. You craved her, your power craved her magic, and you could barely resist her. If Natasha touched you next, you weren’t sure you’d be able to leave. Understanding this, you zip up the duffle overhastily and whip around with a cutting glare, hoping you looked as threatening as possible.  

Your eyes flash gold as you bark out. “Do not call me that.”  

“I’m sorry.” Wanda squeaked out, stepping back in submission. 

It ought to have made you pause, the sincere apology and pitiful sound that’d left your witch—the witch. But you push the urge to double back aside, needing to escape this floor as soon as possible.  

Natasha held herself back from reprimand—because what right did she hold now—as she questioned you. “Are you staying in the tower at least?”  

You didn’t know before, but hearing it being asked aloud made you resistant to the idea. You wanted to be as far away from them as possible, but with a mission pending and the team counting on your participation, the option of going off-world was null.  

“Don’t worry about it. I can take care of myself, Natalia.” You catch the way she flinches as you slide past her and into the hall, making a beeline for the elevator door.  

You were surprised she didn’t voice her vexation at the way you addressed her. It always peeved her when you, or Wanda, would use the name non-affectionately. “That’s not the point and you know it.” 

They’re both hot on your heels as you speed through the floor, calling out for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to send the elevator up.  

“Well that kinda became the point when you decided to break up with me.” You bite back, anger starting to fight its way to the surface again.  

It’s easily swallowed down with Wanda’s next words, only leaving annoyance in its place. Annoyance at how a steady and warm tone could begin to pull you back into her so easily, annoyance at how she believed either of them were due any answers from you, and a annoyance that you knew would, eventually, only simmer into guilt.   

“We’ll be at peace knowing where you’ll be.”  

The elevator dings and you step in, unwilling to face them as you go.  

“You don’t deserve it.” 

The two of them watch the door close, marking this chapter unfinished. They fought the ache as they stood there, along with the feeling that called them to chase after you, apologize, and make things right. A chill shot up Wanda’s spine as her body began to process her standing, barefoot, on the foyer’s tile. She walks over to the living room, seeking a plush warmth that would never reach her heart, when she spots it.  

“She didn’t take her phone, Nat.” 

One late evening, the whole Avengers team were gathered in the living room of the compound all cozied up. Clint, Thor and Steve sat with blankets over them and their best sweatpants was on. They were seated right in front of the TV on the big couch.

Clint had a bucket in his lap, throwing up the awful liqour Thor had given him.

Tony and Bruce sat by the kitchen but still had a view of the TV. They chatted quietly about some science project they had going on, beers in hand.

You sat on the opposite side of your best friends, Natasha and Wanda, who hadn’t changed since the party that Tony had earlier. Natasha sat sideways on Wanda’s lap as they shared a blanket in the cozy chair, her Louboutin heels still on, hanging over the armrest.

You had a book in your lap, not a pretty girl like Natasha, but it was still something.

The horror movie in the background was booming, but you weren’t paying attention. I’d say you paid attention to your book, but I’d just be lying. Your attention was on Natasha and the way she 'reacted' to the movie. Her head was tucked in Wanda’s neck as her girlfriend had the biggest smirk on her face, paying attention to the movie. You could see the movement of Wanda’s arm underneath the blanket, the way Natasha’s chest rose and fell heavily. Wanda’s lips moved occasionally, muttering something you couldn’t make out completely. However you’re pretty sure some of those words were ‘good… for…’

You glanced up from your book, cheeks red when your eyes met Wanda’s. Natasha pulled Wanda closer, hiding her face as she stiffened. You noticed how Natasha's feet straightened in her heels. Wanda smirked at you, mouthing, 'Wanna join?' ’'. You swore you could die that moment.

With wide eyes and a very red face, you looked down at your book again, staring at it like it was your job.

"We are heading to bed," Wanda spoke softly over the TV.

The guys only nodded, waving them off, their attention on the movie.

Except for Clint, his head was still in the bucket.

Natasha was now standing, her slender fingers pulling down her black minidress.

She wore the one with thin straps, not the one that covered her chest and shoulders. You liked this one more.

"Night, y/n…" Wanda spoke softly, looking at you up and down. You looked up and gave them a soft smile, trying to ignore the aching feeling between your legs. They both smirked at you before walking out, Wanda’s hand on the small of Natasha’s back.

-///-

About an hour later, the movie was finished, and all the guys headed to bed. Tony and Bruce had migrated to the lab for some 4 AM brainstorming. You placed your book down, your head still a little fuzzy from all the alcohol you consumed earlier that day.

Your skin was dry, like always when you drank. So you couldn’t wait to put on your favourite lotion and jump into the cold bed, get some good shut-eye, and definitely not dream about your best friends.

Except you couldn’t apply the lotion. Because it was, of course, on Wanda's and Nat’s dresser. Normally, you'd apply it before, but since they asked to get ready with you and be the judge of their outfits. The lotion was long forgotten when you had placed it down on the dresser and seen Wanda half-naked as she got dressed for the party.

With a sigh, you made your way to your room, walking into the bathroom, looking for anything that could replace the soothing feeling of putting on the lotion. When finding nothing, you groaned in frustration.

Surely, they must have gone to bed now.

It would be easy.

You’d sneak over to their dresser in their bedroom.

Retrieve the lotion.

Walk out like nothing happened.

Maybe you’d see a naked boob peaking out of the blanket, but that was okay.

You could survive that; they were just your best friends.

As you stood outside the door, you put your ear to it, listening for any sound. Not hearing anything, you decided to walk in.

However, you felt an immediate regret for not listening longer, and you were sure that now you couldn’t walk out of there like nothing happened.

Something happened.

Something was currently happening.

And it was right in front of you.

Natasha, still in her heels, was pushed up against their dresser.

Head against the wall. Mouth open. Eyes closed.

She was completely naked with one leg over Wanda’s shoulder, the other on the floor.

Her hands held tightly on the edge of the dresser, knuckles white as she took the thrusts from Wanda.

The thrusts made the dresser move, hitting the back wall along with your lotion right beside Natasha’s hand.

Talking about hands, Wanda’s right hand was on Natasha’s throat, and you could practically feel it on yourself. Her left hand was around Nat’s thigh, which was over her shoulder, pulling her closer.

Your eyes landed on Wanda’s dick that was penetrating Natasha, and you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off it.

It moved fast, slightly tilted up. You were sure that if your thoughts weren’t so loud, you could hear Natasha’s wet, throbbing pussy being penetrated by it.

She opened her eyes, making eye contact with you, a soft smirk on her lips.

"Wa-anda," Natasha choked out. Her girlfriend lightened the pressure on her neck. Nat let out a cough and looked back at you. ‘’We’ve go-ot co-ugh fuck, company.’'

Wanda looked behind her, seeing your red face and your thighs clenched.

She slowed down, then stopped and removed her hand from Nat’s throat.

Natasha’s forehead fell onto Wanda’s shoulder, panting heavily.

"Can I help you?" she asked, amused

You only stood there, eyes hopping between Nat and Wanda.

Natasha tried to take her leg down and cover her chest up, mostly for your comfort; she didn't really care.

Albeit, Wanda stopped her.

‘’I’m not done with you.’'

Her voice was low and firm, and it made Natasha’s eyes darken, adjusting herself a little on her girlfriend's thing.

You hadn’t moved for a good 4 minutes. Wanda might as well not have ruined Natasha’s orgasm and continued if she knew you were just going to stand there and watch them.

If you wanted to watch, you could just ask.

"Sweetheart, I’m kind of busy here. What did you need?’’ Wanda asked. Nat glanced over at you, her breathing more steady now, but her forehead still glistening from sweat in the dim lighting.

''Lotion,'' was all you got out.

Wanda furrowed her brows and then realized.

She grabbed the lotion with her free hand and held it out for you.

You awkwardly walked towards her, the room smelling more and more of sex.

With a gentle hand, you grabbed it. Wanda’s fingers brushed against yours; they were wet.

Natasha.

You turned about three times redder in the face and hurried out of the room.

‘’Why did she get so red?’'

‘’My fingers have been inside your pussy.’'

Natasha didn’t get a time to respond before Wanda started to move again. A loud moan escaping them both.

It didn’t take long until Wanda came inside of Natasha, Natasha following just a second later.

Once Wanda pulled out, she picked her up and carried her bridal style to the bed.

Natasha hummed with delight and closed her eyes, her head falling against her girlfriend's shoulder.

Wanda carefully placed Natasha on the bed as if she were made of glass, gold, and one-of-a-kind black diamonds. Natasha couldn’t help but smile at her gentleness.

She carefully removed her girlfriend's heels, kissing her feet softly.

Natasha hummed and stretched her arms over her head as she admired the younger woman.

Wanda smiled at the sight, continuing to kiss up her calf

Her knees.

Inner thighs.

She then moved to Natasha’s stomach.

Side ribs.

Chest.

Collarbone.

Neck.

And, finally, her lips.

They smiled wide at each other, like they had just fallen in love all over again.

"Hi, beautiful," Nat whispered, her hand cupping Wanda’s cheek.

Wanda smiled wider, if that was even possible.

‘’Hello, gorgeous.’'

Wanda laid down beside Natasha, her head resting on her chest.

They let out a contented sigh, feeling a little more relaxed.

Natasha bit her lip; seeing your face's reaction in her head did something to her.

‘’You’re replaying it in your head…’’ Wanda spoke softly a little later.

Natasha sighed, ‘’Wanda…’'

‘’I’m sorry, your thoughts were really fucking loud.’’

‘’She didn’t mean to see us,'' Wanda whispered.

‘’You liked it.’'

Wanda didn’t move.

‘’It was really humiliating,’’ Natasha said, her hand playing loosely with Wanda’s hair.

"I'm sorry, I should have let you take your leg down or pulled out at least," Wanda apologized, lying on her side, resting on her elbow.

‘’No.’'

Wanda furrowed her brows.

Nat bit her lip again.

A smirk formed on Wanda’s lips.

‘’Oh?’'

Her hands trailed around Natasha’s chest.

"You liked when your best friend saw you getting fucked? Completely manhandled like a whore?’’

Natasha let out a shaky breath, her eyes closing. It only made Wanda smirk wider.

‘’You did…’'

a small bonus cause i love ya'll, put ya'll seatbelt on, it's about to get HOT

Wanda knelt and spread Natasha’s legs.

Nat whimpered in response, trying to close them.

"I don’t think I can take another one, baby…" Natasha mumbled, looking at the younger woman.

Wanda made puppy eyes, her lip sticking out in a pout.

A soft giggle came out of Nat, rolling her eyes in the process.

‘’Fine, only because I love you.''

Wanda smiled, kissing her cheek.

‘’You won’t regret it.’'

‘’Oh, I know.’'

Wanda kissed Nat’s stomach, her hand moving closer to Natasha’s core.

"You're still so wet… With my cum running out of you and all,’’ Wanda teased, lapping up her own cum from Natasha’s pussy.

‘’Fuck…’'

As Wanda continued to eat Nat out, Nat’s mind started racing as she closed her eyes.

The way you watched them, not stopping them, just enjoying the sight.

She knew you got wet from the way she moaned for Wanda, letting her use her pussy.

"You're thinking of her again," Wanda mumbled, removing her mouth and sitting up.

Natasha still had her eyes closed, but she could feel the way Wanda’s eyes stared at her.

She opened them and looked at her girlfriend, biting her lip.

Wanda pushed two fingers into Natasha’s sore but aching pussy.

"You want her to see you like this… again? All exposed and needy for my fingers?’'

Wanda smirked as Natasha nodded her head; she bit her arm to suppress the embarrassingly loud moan.

"Maybe I should just send her a video of you like this? Make a sex tape dedicated to her?’'

"Please…" Natasha’s pleading sent shivers down Wanda’s spine. Her eyes darkened, her free hand coming up for an unexpected choke.

Natasha gasped, her eyes going wide.

Wanda let out a low growl before removing her hand from her pussy.

She moved into missionary, taking Natasha’s legs over her shoulder.

‘’Wanda I—WANDA!'' Natasha was about to protest before she screamed her name.

Wanda had slammed her cock into Natasha, already thrusting relentlessly.

‘’You’re such a whore, you know that?’'

Natasha could only nod in complete bliss.

‘’You’re my whore, you belong to me.’'

Wanda growled.

Going faster.

Harder.

Deeper.

Tears streamed down Nat’s face, a breathless sob escaping her.

And Wanda noticed.

She didn’t slow down, but she did release the grip on Natasha’s neck, pulling her into a desperate, needy, and sloppy kiss.

Natasha moaned into it, enjoying the roughness her girlfriend was giving her.

Not even a minute later, Nat’s toes curled, her body spasmed, and her legs shook.

She came, and oh my, did she come hard.

Wanda moaned, slapping Natasha’s face, and not the gentle, loving kind.

It stung. A lot.

But it felt good.

It felt great.

Nat grunted and smirked up at her girlfriend, her cheek already turning red.

She knew how much Wanda liked impact play with her, especially because of how well Natasha took it.

‘’Fuck!’'

Wanda shot her load into Natasha, both moaning.

When she pulled out, Natasha was exhausted, completely limp, and breathing heavily.

That’s when Wanda got soft with her.

Like usual.

She cooed at Nat and kissed her cheek, then gently wiped her face of tears.

‘’You’re such a good girl, Nat.''

Nat chuckled and pulled her into a kiss.

"Sorry for hurting you."

"You didn’t… or well, you did, but I enjoyed every moment.''

Wanda smiled, pulling her into a cuddle as she lay down beside her.

"You weren’t close to safe wording?" Wanda asked, rubbing her girlfriend's back lovingly.

Nat shook her head, leaning into the touch.

"No, but if you didn't release your grip on my throat, I would... Or if you fucked me like that in the ass and had me gagged, blindfolded, and in a sex swing… I probably would too.’'

Wanda giggled, kissing her cheek again. ‘’I’ll always notice before you ever have to use the safe word… also, anal?’'

Wanda’s brow was raised, her hand gliding down Nat’s back to cup her ass.

Natasha pushed her hand up to her back again.

"Not. Now.’'

‘’Fine…’’ Wanda grumbled, lying down on her back and pulling Natasha to lie by her.

Natasha cuddled into her, wincing slightly in pain. Her legs and cheeks would hurt tomorrow.

‘’Like you can handle that anyway,’’ Natasha muttered, her head still not left the thought of Wanda taking her from behind.

‘’Excuse me?’'

"You heard me. The second I bend over, my ass all ready for your cock, you’re gonna cum," Natasha puffed, following a smile, a small flick coming to Wanda’s cock.

"Okay, that happened once," Wanda defended, grabbing Nat’s hand and kissing it. ‘’And to be fair, you bending over for me is really fucking hot.''

Natasha blushed a little, yawning. She laid her head on Wanda’s shoulder, closing her eyes. They lay in quiet for a moment, enjoying each other's company.

‘’Did you really want me to record you?’’ Wanda whispered, her fingers playing with Natasha’s hair.

Natasha opened her eyes and took a deep breath. She looked up at Wanda, glancing down at her eyes before meeting her eyes.

‘’Did you?’'

Wanda bit her lip, kissing Natasha’s forehead.

"I mean… I’d only do it with your consent, but I don’t know of I’d send it to y/n,’'

Natasha nodded, cuddling closer to her.

‘’She deserves the live show…’'

Wanda chuckled, ‘’She’s already got it. ’'

Natasha blushed, groaning as she hid in Wanda’s neck.

Wanda laughed.

"Let's invite her tomorrow for a movie. I’ll fuck you when she isn’t paying attention. And if she does, I won’t stop because you’ll enjoy it too much,’’ Wanda whispered, her own dick twitching by her own words.

Natasha felt butterflies in her stomach, she really did have an exhibitionism kink…

She blushed hard and subconsciously bucked her hips.

Wanda was now satisfied, a smirk on her lips.

It was about time. Your boss announced that you'd been promoted and to say that you were happy was an understatement.

Eleven months — day by day, nine to five, even sometimes on Saturday mornings — you'd given work your all and you'd finally been compensated for your hard work but at the cost of what?

Your family. Your happiness. Your wife.

It was 9:39pm as you'd been driving home after getting a couple of drink with Kate and Yelena to celebrate, although you made sure not to drink enough to get drunk.

Once you stepped inside your and your family's home, you were greeted with a complete silence. It wasn't exactly surprising since it was past the twins' bedtime by now.

Walking in further, the sound of water flushing from the kitchen's sink could be heard. You'd gotten rid of your coat and shoes, knowing that your wife didn't like it when anyone went further inside the house with shoes from the outside on.

There she was, your beautiful auburn haired woman.

Even though, her back was facing you, you still thought she was the most beauteous human being on this earth. You walked up behind her, arms around her waist as you placed a kiss on her neck.

“Hello, darling.” you greeted, placing kisses on her shoulder too. “Missed you.”

She didn't answer and you didn't particularly pay attention at the moment but when you leaned in to kiss her cheek, she stepped away from your embrace to go dry her hands.

That's when you started noticing that something was off—because Wanda doesn't ignore you.

Well, she certainly has given you the silent treatment before but at least, you knew what you'd done. Although, you'd just gotten back home from work, what could you have possibly done wrong?

You decided not to ask and instead, “Long day?”

“If by long day you mean me picking up the boys from school, making lunch, working from home, and then cooking a very nice dinner that I had expected to share with my wife AND our kids but only for said wife to text me from her colleague's phone, saying that she'll be  getting drinks instead of coming home to her family? Yes, my love, it was a very long day.”

You can hear the harshness, next up, the disappointment, then the sarcasm in her tone very clearly and your entire being was immediately filled with culpability. She wasn't even looking at you. Her back was still what faced you.

“Wanda, baby, I'm really—”

“Save it. I don't want to hear it.”

“But I assure you that—”

She finally turns to look at you and you should be glad that she was finally visually acknowledging you but no, you're not. Not when she's looking at you like this, not when there's not even a smile on her face and the look in her eyes is not the usual happy, loving one but replaced by a hard, angry look  instead. “I told you, I don't want to hear it.”

You shut up. What else can you do? You don't wish to anger her further, anyway.

“I never once stopped you from doing what you wanted, because that's not how marriage works.” She says. “Marriage isn't about control or dominance but commitment, trust, love, care, honesty,  communication. And I'm not saying that you have failed at being or doing any of those things because you have, God, you have! Otherwise, I wouldn't be here, wearing this ring.”

She gestured at her left hand before keeping up on her speech.

“But do you know what you've been lacking?” you don't answer and let her do it instead because you're not sure if you're allowed to speak yet. “Presence. You're barely around, Y/N.”

For the first time tonight, she speaks your name and your heart simply shatters at her tone—it's not harsh or sarcastic anymore, even tho the disappointment remains—but it's sorrowful, broken.

And you're hit with a wave of remorse.

“I can handle you missing out of a date night or- or even an anniversary but—”

Shit.

Wanda's words drown to the back of your head as your stupid mind reminds you now instead of earlier. Tommy's big soccer game day was today and you'd fucking forgotten about it.

“Darling, please..” you try to step closer.

“No. No. You're not doing that. You're not going to apologize to me but to your son. You did him wrong, not me.” She tells you. “Do you know how upset he was? Thank God Pietro was there otherwise, he probably would've not played at all.”

“You know I didn't mean to forget about it—”

“But do I?” she asks you. “Because I'm not really sure I do.”

“It was a really long day, okay? It all went by so fast and my phone was off. I truly didn't mean to miss it, baby.”

She scoffs and throws the kitchen cloth she used to wipe her hands dry on the counter.

“If you're able to forget about your own son's game day, I wonder why you can't forget—even just for one day—about your job.”

You shake your head, “Sweetheart, you know it's not like that..”

“Don't bother, I know the answer.” She quips as she ignores your words. The Sokovian steps closer to you, and in any other circumstances, you would've been happily reaching out for her but you can't. “Because that's all you care about. In the morning, at night. You even forget to eat just because you're consumed by your damned job!”

“I'm doing it for us, you know this.” You state, poorly attempting to defend yourself and your actions. “So we can secure our backs, our children's backs.”

“Yes, but at the cost of what, huh? Said children. Me.”

“Wanda—”

“I want a divorce.”

Everything stilled as she uttered those words. Those dreadful, alarming words that made your heart sink within your lungs. It's only then, as she gestures to it, that you notice the piece of envelope by the kitchen table. It was as white as the marble table, hence why you had missed it.

For a moment, you felt as if your ears had failed you, as if you'd made that up and you found yourself hoping that indeed, for a second, you'd gone crazy and made all of that up.

But by the look in her eyes, that determined intonation of hers, you knew you were fucked.

Your first instinct is to utter a small, nervous laugh, “You c— You can't mean that, love. You don't mean that.”

“Yes. I can and I do.” She tells you as you feel the panic rise within you.

This can't be happening, you think to yourself, it must be a fucking fucked up nightmare.

“Wait, Wanda, wait, wait, just wait a second, baby, ee have to talk about this. Y-You can't just come up with this decision— I-I mean, think about everything we built together! Think about our boys!”

“That is exactly what I am doing, Y/N. You should've thought about them before you started prioritizing your job over them. Over us.” 

You felt a pit in your stomach at her words. She was right. You should've thought about the kind of impact working day and night would have on your family. But you hadn't and it was too late now.

I mean, how could you when you were simply doing what you thought was best for them. You didn't want Tommy and Billy to grow up like you. You wanted them to never have to worry about money because that was their parents' role and not theirs. You didn't want them to stress or worry about such things until they were old enough and/or parents themselves. You would give them the world if you could — that's how much you loved them.

And Wanda loved that about you.

But when it feels like loosing you in the process, she can't let herself bear it.

“You might as well marry your job now, since you love it so much to the point you spend the majority of your time working.”

Not even a second after she was done speaking, you'd dropped to your knees, your arms encircled her waist as your forehead rested against her stomach.

“You don't have to do this. Please don't do this, my love.” You hadn't even realized it but you had started crying by now. “Please, don't leave me. I can't do this without you, please. I love you, Wanda, I love you.”

The ginger didn't answer, she didn't move — not yet at least. As much as she was upset with you, it was challenging to see you cry like this, on your knees for her, without comforting you. But she had to. When she married you, she didn't sign up for piece of attention. Much less when you both decided to become parents — she wasn't going to let the kids see you be slowly pulled away from them because of your determination.

“I love you too, Y/N.” she tells you gently although, it's not as endearing as usual and you know that she's not saying this because she's forgiven you. “But it's not only you and I anymore. As I told you before, I would've handled it all if it was on me — buf you've been neglecting our children and I cannot handle it. Which is why I'm doing this.”

You look up at her, eyes already puffy and red, full of tears as you sniffle. “Just— please, let us talk about it, hm? Please, my love, please.”

She didn't look at you as she spoke, “We already did talk about it, Y/N. My decision is final. You'll have to give my lawyer an answer within the next 21 days. If not, I think you know what happens.”

Wanda removed your arms from around her so she could step out of your embrace and then left the kitchen, leaving you to drown in your sorrows on your own.

You start to think about everything. The path it took to loose the love of your life and your children. Because, no, it wasn't only about dinner or Tommy's game day you'd missed but it has been a continuous pattern : arriving late during parent-teacher meetings, missing some of Billy's karate practice because he wanted you to see how much he'd improved, or that time during the boys' birthday party you were supposed to go pick up the cake but you'd been called in to work due to an emergency instead and on top of that, you'd forgotten to warn Wanda about it. They waited a full hour until she'd called you. That evening, there was a huge argument and you'd slept in the boys' bedroom instead. The list is probably fuller.

.   .   .  .  .

You never would've imagined that this could've ever happened to you.

You always believed that Wanda and you were meant to last together until death does you both apart — as your vows sermonized. But, here you were.

It has been eleven days—a week and four days—since that teary evening. And your mind was only filled with the thoughts of those cursed divorce papers. Day and night, you dreaded the fact that clock kept ticking, time wasn't going to slow down for you, and soon enough, you'd have to agree and officially start the divorce process.

In those eleven days, not once have you slept by Wanda's side nor had she spoken to you.

Billy and Tommy started to notice that their moms weren't being their usual selves—clingy, kissing one another, or even teasing one another—Billy had asked you “Is Mamma upset with you?” and Tommy giggled it off, saying that his brother shouldn't worry because Mommy always makes Mama angry but that everything would be alright soon.

But oh wrong were they.

At that, you couldn't help yourself but started tearing up.

You had excused yourself and went to the bathroom to cry. Of course, you had to muffle it. They couldn't know that something was wrong. They couldn't hear you cry or they would start asking questions and you don't want to lie to them.

Nothing was ever going to be okay again, not unless you tried one last time to fix your mess.

You'd always been compentitive—both Wanda and you—to the point where, once, everything had been a competition and even now, you couldn't let Wanda win this. No. You couldn't let her go that easily.

So that was it. One last fight.

You had been sitting in your car for fifteen minutes now, revising your words carefully in your head. You weren't exactly in a position where you could ask for conditions but after a nice chat with your lawyer, you discovered that you had the rights. Even it sounded selfish, you would still use it because you don't give up easily. No, you're not a coward.

Not when it concerns her, at least.

Entering what would probably not be your home anymore, you carefully closed the door behind you and stepped inside. The bedroom was bathed in a soft glow from the bedside's lamp. Wanda was seated on the bed as she read a book, hair loose, glasses and a red sweater on. She seemed relaxed and you almost gave up and left because you didn't want to disturb her, but you didn't. You couldn't. If disturbing her meant repatching your marriage back together then so be it.

“Can we talk?”

She deliberately flipped the page of her book, not even sparing you a glance as she replied — her tone calm but distant, “I don't recall having anything to say to you.”

“No, probably not.” you agree before continuing. “Just as you haven't for the last eleven days. But about that, I think you will.”

You knew you were treading on eggshells from the glare she gave you  but she didn't say anything. Instead, her gaze traveled to the envelope you held between your right hand's fingers. She immediately recognized it. “I agree to the divorce.”

“It was about time.”

“Only after two months.” You continue and notice her gaze faltering oh so slightly. “Allow me two more months to be with you and our kids, after that, I promise to let you go without any hesitation.” if you still haven't changed your mind, is what you don't add.

“Please.” You pursue when she doesn't answer. You know where to press to get things to go your way. You know she still loves you and you know that deep down, even if she'll never admit it out loud, she wants you to fight for her, for the kids. “I love you, Wanda. I will never stop loving you. But you can't expect me to just let you go like this, not when I am not even prepared. So, please, this will be the last thing I ever request from you. Two months, and then you're free.”

She exhales but eventually nods reluctantly. “Fine. As if it would change anything — whatever.”

Her words hurt but you deserved them because you had been the one to hurt her first, and she's only returning the equivalent.

That night—after each and everyone's night routine—instead of going taking the couch or the guest bedroom, you went back to sleep in your shared bedroom, spooning her as she unwillingly let you.

.  .  .  .  .

From that moment on, every single minutes counted.

Every single movements, words, actions : it all mattered. You couldn't— no, wouldn't permit yourself to commit any mistakes because you knew it would mean being one step away from Wanda and two steps closer to the divorce.

As of now, spending your time with your family was your top priority. Because they were your happiness, your anchor, the reason why you were fulfilled in this life and if you lost them?

Well, nothing really mattered anymore.

You were, henceforth, on a clock.

During those 60 more days that Wanda approved of, you had to ensure everything would be in your favor in the end. You always did some things that would at least remind the Sokovian of the great times you spent together, of the life you had before everything went downhill.

First of, you took two months off work so you could be home 24/7. You decided to improve your cooking skills so you could make lunch and dinner for them. Obviously, the boys were the only one delighted by the meals as Wanda would either say that she wasn't hungry or that she had already eaten. That didn't stop you from giving up, anyway.

You continually cuddled her at night until the both of you fell asleep, regardless of the fact that she remained with her back facing you.

You'd still say wish her good night and let her know that you loved her albeit despite that she wouldn't answer.

Whenever the morning rolled by, you weren't by her side — not because you'd already left for the office but because you were getting the boys up and ready for school. You'd make breakfast for her and leave it on the table and when you returned from dropping off the boys, you'd find it still on the table, untouched.

She was both distant and quiet. Whenever you'd try to have a conversation with her, she'd always respond drily or not at all.

It has been going on like this for the first three weeks and it was really hard to handle. You didn't like the fact she was so close yet so far away from you.

.  .  .  .  .

“Guess what, little gremlins?” you exclaimed as you crouched down in front of your sons. They began to excitedly question you, demanding that you tell them what was going on.”

“I got us tickets for the zoo.”

Billy squealed and his brother followed. The said zoo had recently opened and they'd both been dying to go there for a while now but due to the lack of time you, couldn't and they didn't want to go without neither Wanda or you.

So now sounded like the perfect time.

It wasn just a simple zoo—it had an aquarium and some amusement park-like rides. Also, some classmates of theirs had been bragging about the hotdogs they served there.

First of, Wanda said that she couldn't come because she had some things to do with Pietro but then Billy started crying because of it. You tried to persuade him that if Mama was busy this time then you could still go a second time but when he'd yelled back at her, “No, I don't want next time. I want us all together now! We're barely all together. Why can't you both be like Morgan's parents.”

You felt Wanda's cold gaze and you brain kept mocking you, telling you that you deserved just that. Because it was your fault if you couldn't be like Morgan's parents or Nate's.

Nonetheless, she ended up cancelling her plans with her twin, which eventually led Billy calm down.

The entire drive there, your heart was thudding in your chest. Neither of you spoke, aside from your sons in the back seat. You desperately wanted to apologize but it wouldn't make a difference — if anything, it would just upset the auburn haired woman more.

That remorseful feeling you had during the drive disappeared the moment you heard the enthusiastic yells of the twins. They got to see real life wild animals for the first time in their six years of existence and it was timeless.

You'd gotten cotton candy first—they even got to choose which color they wanted—then, went on an educational tour. Afterwards, you did the rides.

After visiting the aquarium and getting the infamous hotdogs, which were indeed delicious, a photographer proposed to take a picture of you. You'd already agreed—Tommy and Billy too—before even asking Wanda if she was comfortable with it.

When you have her an apologetic look, she simply rolled her eyes and muttered a “Whatever.” then went to pose where the boys gestured to—in front of the giang water fountain—she was only doing this for the boys.

“What a beautiful family we have here.” An old passing by lady said, making you smile and thanked her.

Even though, now, you only had about a month left, you wished the four would remain just that — a happy, beautiful family.

.  .  .  .  .

That evening, you'd been the one to take care of the twins and get them to bed. It had been a long, eventful day and they were surely very tired. You marched inside the boys' room and first off went to Billy's bed since Tommy was still using the restroom.

“Hey, B. Ready for bed?”

“I don't know,” He counts “I think I would prefer watching cartoons right now.”

You let out a chuckle, “You would, wouldn't you? Well, I also know better. By the time you lay down, you'll be out like a light.”

“That's because I have amazing dreams awaiting for me. I can't be up too long or the night will pass.”

You laughed at his antics. He always has had a wild imagination, and who could blame him? That's a mindset for a six year old.

“About earlier, you shouldn't have gotten upset at Mama like this. You know she loves you and cares for you.”

“I do and I'm sorry.”

“You should be mad at me, Billy Bear. She's the one who's home with you and your brother all the time, not me. She's the one who constantly looks after you and you shouldn't hurt her like that, do you understand?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Good. You can say sorry to her tomorrow, yeah? I love you.”

As you predicted, within the next upcoming minutes, he falls asleep and you're not surprised by that.

Tommy exits the bathroom, his feet dragging him over to his bed. You follow suit, a gentle smile in your lips.

Tommy slides inside the sheets, and you expect the tucking in to go even smoother, if not quicker, than Billy's.

“Mommy, what's divroce?”

However, this question wasn't what you expected. At least not from your six years old son, at the crack of night. Your movements falter slightly at this interrogation and before too much time can go by and he starts to call for you again, your hands go back into motion — straightening the sheets as you speak.

“Where did you heard that from?” You gently ask him then proceed to correct him. “And it's a di-vor-ce, darling, not divroce.”

“Uncle Pietro. I heard him speak about it with i-don't-know-who on the phone when he picked us up from school the other day. Then I asked him about it and he said that it's when two married people get unmarried.”

Tommy is smart. Everyone knows it. And the fact that he was able to note all of that and say it to you again is shocking and not, at the same time.

“Are you and Mommy getting a divorce?”

You swallow the lump in your throat. Is it really that obvious that things aren't going well in your marriage anymore?

You can't lie to him, but you can't tell him the truth because it is all so complicated. The tears gather in your eyes—both from his words and because there's your auburn haired soon-to-be ex-wife in the back of your mind.

“I... want to be honest with you, Tommy.” You utter softly. “I really love your mom, with my whole heart. And sometimes, adults have disagreements, just like you do with Billy when he takes your toys without asking you first.”

“And is that what's happening with Mama?”

The corner of your lip shifts slightly, a waterly chuckle escaping your throat. “A bit, yes.” It's more than that — much more than that. But he's too young to understand, too sweet to be hit with reality of things just yet. “You should know that Mama loves you both very much and..every decision she'll ever take will always be for your you and your brother's well-being. I don't know for certain yet that we will proceed with a divorce so i can't give you an answer. But if it were to happen, I need you, along with your brother, to be strong and look after your mom for me. Could you do that?”

“Yes, Mommy. But I don't want you to leave us.”

“I know that, sweetheart. And I don't want to leave you either. But sometimes, things like that happen and there's nothing any of us can do.”

Your heart's hurting. He doesn't deserve this, Billy doesn't deserve this and much less, Wanda. You wish you could take it all back but it's only what it is — a wish.

Tears slid down your cheeks and Tommy brings his palm up, guiding it down your skin. “No tears, Mommy. I don't want you to cry.”

“Im sorry, my love.” You sniffle, wipping the tears away from your other cheek. You don't know if it's the sight of him that makes you still have a smile on your face or if it's just a natural reaction — either way, you're smiling while crying at the same time. “It's just... you're already so grown.”

Tommy grins, pleased by that. He doesn't want to stay little forever, obviously. Not that he could. “I love you, Mommy.”

You hug him and tell him you love him too. As slumber lulls him, you remain laying by his side, hugging him as hot tears silently slide down your cheeks. All you can do is stay here, wallow in on your sadness until you could calm down.

You know that they don't deserve to be in this situation. You know you don't deserve them. You know that if you could, you would take it all back and make things better. What you don't know is that your wife is right out of the door, listening to this conversation from the very beginning, and she just hates the way you're so good with words.

She hates the fact that even when she wants to despise you, you just manage to make her love you, even unknowingly. So when you step inside the bedroom, thirty minutes later after composing yourself, she's standing there, looking at you. Her green orbs filled with a look that crosses confusion between love and hate.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you? Making me want you even when you don't deserve it.” Her speech doesn't falter at the look of confusion on your face. “Tell me.”

You try to explain to her that you don't understand what she meant, but she doesn't let you. She's too angry for that. She's too sad for that. She's too disappointed for that. She's too in love for that. Somewhere along the line, you're close — closer than she's allowed you to be in weeks and it almost makes you cry. You missed her. All of her. And she missed you too.

She missed so much that even if you're both not on so great terms, even if you don't deserve it — she allows you to touch her. Her lips meet yours and it's not slow and soft, no—It's rushed. messy.

Somewhere along the way, your both on the bed. She's laying on her back while you're in between her legs. Your hands are working down past the hem of her sleep shorts, panties and landing right on her throbbing cunt. She's wet. She's been wanting this and you can't blame her. You've been wanting to touch her for a while and half of you feels glad that she's permitting this but the other half isn't. Because you don't want her to be angry at you. Because you know she's rushing this because she can't stand you. Because you wish you could make love to her and not fuck her.

Her sounds shifts between breathy gasps and whines. She's mostly trying to keep quiet for the kids. You fingers curls inside her and her back arches off the bed. Your busy your lips at her neck, marking her skin because it will probably be the last time this ever happens. Because soon, you'll never get to have her like this.

You mutter apologies, despite yourself, while pleasing her. Your mouth makes it way further down to her chest, latching on one nipple while rolling the other one in between the fingers of your unoccupied hand. Her fingernails dig into your shoulders as she moans. You switch and give her other nipple the same attention by your mouth. If it's for her, you can multitask.

After a while, she comes at your hand, chest heaving, sweat all over her forehead. She's beautiful every day but even more like this — cheeks flushed, lips parted as melodic moans escape them. You almost cry at it. But no, tonight was about her and only her.

The next day, you wake up alone in bed. Not that you expected her to be there cuddled in your arms, but it still hurt a little.

You make your way out of your shared bedroom and get the boys up and ready for school. Once they finish eating breakfast, the three of you are out and about for drop off.

Once you drop Tommy and Billy off at school, you drive your way back home.

Everything in the living room looks the same. You don't question it. 'Maybe she's going to spend the entire day out to avoid me, you think to yourself. Because, yes, when you're about to divorce, you don't let your soon-to-be ex wife fuck you. But you don't blame Wanda. You're thankful that she allowed you this one last time. What surprises you is the missing covered breakfast plate on the dining table. Wanda never ate nor touched any of the meals you've cooked ever since the divorce announcement.

Suddenly, a familiar voice resonates from behind you. “What's got you frozen over there?”

Your head whip in the voice's direction and you're met with the sight of Wanda. She's dressed in a sportswear, her reddish-brown curls are pulled in a messy bun and she's munching on the breakfast you kept aside for her.

Your lips part very slightly. Her chest area and neck area looks a bit damp — even after a run (which is obvious she went for) you can't help but think she's beautiful like this. You force yourself to snap out of it. She's talking to you for God's sake, for the first time in weeks, (and it doesn't concern the twins) she's initiating a talk. You clear your throat. “Uh, nothing, I was just... Nevermind. I didn't know you were out.”

Well, technically you did. But you couldn't exactly say "you didn't tell me you were going out." as if everything was still the same.

“I sent you a text. But it seems you didn't check your phone.”

You mentally curse yourself at her response. Of course, that damned device again. You can't feel it in your pockets, as a matter of fact, you know you didn't even have it in the car with you.

“Well, uhm, I didn't check it when I woke up..”

Your wife shrugs, not that she expected anything else. You never check your phone.

“I should've. I'm sorry. ” you add but she doesn't say anything. fuck.

Wanda simply goes to seat on the couch. She doesn't seem upset but you can't exactly read her.

“Is...” you begin hesitantly, unsure if making a conversation is a good move now. She spoke first, sure. But what if it should've stopped just at that. Nonetheless, you keep going. “Is it good?”

She sees you gesturing to the plated meal in her hands and she raises a brow, “I'm eating it, no?”

“Yeah.. yeah, you're um— yeah.”

You decide to let her be. Again, the last thing you want it to piss her off when she was finally addressing you more than a single word.

You don't dare mention what happened the night prior. You can't. She'll probably pull her walls back up fully again and that damned divorce would be certain.

. . . . .

For the two remaining weeks, the tension had dimmed.

It wasn't enough to indicate that Wanda had changed her mind but it was progress. Her blank expressions, eye rolls or annoyance at your mère presence seemed to cease. The two of you were talking and sitting all together during meals again even if it got awkward at times, but it was better than the past month and a half. She even let you take her out one night when the twins were over at Pietro's for the weekend. Also, she started facing you in bed again.

But there was just one slip—Wanda didn't mention the divorce papers.

At all.

Not even once in passing, while laying comfortably in her arms or while you brushed your teeths together in the early mornings.

And that was the reason why you couldn't fully relax.

You couldn't allow yourself to let your guard down, to stop worrying just yet because even if she didn't voice it and was seemingly considering you again, it didn't mean you were forgiven. It didn't mean she changed her mind. It didn't mean you wouldn't loose her, still.

So, while doing your best not ruin the good times you're having both as a couple and a family by showcasing your distress, you're slowly, sort of dying inside. Because without your wife, life doesn't make make sense.

Without your family, it's just you, wine and your thoughts.

But at the same time, you force yourself to enjoy it. You tell yourself that maybe—just maybe, it's all going to go away. Maybe it didn't even happen, that it simply was a cruel, regrettable nightmare to make you realize how of a shitty partner and parent you'd been.

However, it's definitely not just going to go away. It all comes crashing down once you allow yourself drown in those short-lived moments of happiness.

The calendar stares back at you — the due date circled in a red marker ink, as if mocking you. You had completely forgotten about . Today was the day you were supposed to let go of Wanda, with no difficulties, as promised.

It was cruel but simply what it was. Your own promise.

It was better to honor your own words, rather than make her have to remind you what you said.

So, you quickly finished cleaning around and began packing your stuff. Maybe she simply didn't bring it up because she doesn't love me anymore. Maybe she simply wanted to allow me— us a good time one last time to remember.

Half of your clothes are neatly packed already. You found yourself looking around what was once your shared safe space with your wife and tears gather in your eyes. You don't want to do this, you don't want things to end up like this but it is what it is. It's not like you didn't fight. You had but it simply wasn't enough to stop the divorce from happening and there was none else to blame.

You pick up the not-yet framed family picture on the shelf. The recent one you took at the zoo. It wasn't the happiest moment you've had but you knew you could take this without Wanda minding.

Your fingers trace her beautiful face as tears threaten to fall. This is certainly not going to do you any good but you know she has a better shot at being happy again, and that comforts you.

Because you'd be content as long as she's happy. Even if you weren't the origin of it.

As you kiss over Tommy and Billy's face, hot tears are streaming down your cheeks. “Mommy's sorry.” you mutter, kissing over their pictured faces over and over. “Mommy's really, really sorry.”

“Who are you talking to?” Your body goes rigid at the familiar tone. She's standing by the doorway, you can tell because your back is facing it and she's a few feet behind you. She wasn't supposed to be home just yet, was she. Fuck, you weren't even supposed to be there anymore. Now it's probably just going to cause another argument.

You take a breath, bringing your palms up to wipe away your tears. You only hope your eyes aren't red or puffy enough for her to notice you've been crying. You don't want her to think you're trying to make her feel sorry for you or pity you for something you're at fault for.

So, you quickly fold the picture and tuck it in the back pocket of your jeans. You nervously wipe your hands down your pants, finally turning to face her.

As predicted, she's standing in the bedroom's doorway, a confused look on her face and a .. flower bouquet in hands.

“I uhm .. I don't know if you recall but.. today's the last day of the two more months you allowed me to spend with you and the boys.. ” you approach delicately, as to not make her think you're trying to make her feel bad about it or something of sort, your voice shaky. “I was thinking I wouldn't let you waste your time by telling me I had to leave and just do it myself. I was just about to finish, if you could just.. allow me a few more minutes to get the rest of my stuff, then I'll lea—”

Wanda's arms fall at her side, the bouquet dropping right beside her feet.

You step forward, picking it up and holding it beside her hand again. “Wanda, your flowers..” you trail off once your eyes meet her again. You understand she'd done this just because she wanted to confirm her doubts. She wanted you closer so she could see your face. You simply looked away again, take a step back with a baby feeling of unease settling in the pit of your stomach.

“They're not mine, Y/N. These are yours.” She tells you, motioning at the bouquet. You blink, lips parting slightly. You don't know what to say, you weren't expecting this. Why would she bring you flowers?

“I.. ”

But you're unable to speak again. She's always been able to take your breath away. In every sense of the word. In any possible situation.

“Were you just going to leave? Without even taking to me first?”

“I.. I thought you'd want me gone by the time you came back, I figured it'd be better..”

“God, Y/N,” she exhales and you hear the shakiness in her voice. “We were finally doing better! We were finally being a family again. You didn't even know what was my final say!”

“You never once mentioned your decision about the divorce, Wanda.” you calmly retort. “I didn't want to assume you had changed your mind.”

“Oh, right, so you preferred assuming I'd want you—the mother of our children—gone just like that as if you were, I don't know, a parasite?”

“No..” a shake of head, a shaky tone. “No, no, it's— it's not like that, Wanda. I just wanted to make things easier for you. It was better than to already assume you'd want me again, since I hurt you a lot and as long as you hadn't said anything, the safest thing to do was this..”

You don't even notice it but tears are in your eyes again. There's a knot in your chest. A mix of feelings — worry, fear, sadness, panic. a rush of panic.

“Y/N, I don't want this divorce anymore..” she finally says, stepping closer.

A rush of relief floods you, but you're not completely out of it. You're tired, very tired. You blink a few times, exhaling, trying to stop what's starting to come.

Wanda immediately wraps her arms around you. You bury your face in her neck, allowing yourself to cry like you haven't been able to in a while. All that repressed pain? You're letting it all out.

“I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry.” she tells you, kissing your temple as she cries herself. Wanda doesn't feel at her best right now. She's seen how much of a toll it took on you. She's seen all the effort you made so she could forgive you. She knows you love her and would do anything for her. She just didn't know how bad it was. How broke you felt inside because you'd been a step away from loosing your why.

“No.” You shake your head, lifting your face away from her neck, sniffling. “Don't apologize. I didn't treat you and the boys right. I deserved this. You had to suffer for longer than I have. I'm sorry, Wanda.”

“I promise to do better from now on, ” you tell her again. “I'll spend more time with and the boys. I'll even quit.”

She shakes her own head, wipping your tears away. “You're not gonna do that. You love doing what you do, Y/N. I'm not going to take that away from you, it would be selfish. All I wanted was for you to realize that you also had us.”

“Are you sure? Because I want you to know that this job doesn't matter if I don't have you and the boys by my side—”