marvel oneshots

maximoff | drunk on you ( s )

summary - after a night out with natasha and maria, wanda intends on getting what she wants from you

word count - 1.8k

warnings - hair pulling, finger sucking, praise, slight slight degradation, also very very slight dom/sub dynamics, fingering... i think that covers it all but it's very mild in everything

The blinds were pulled shut, encapsulating the room in near complete darkness save from the candle burning on her bedside table that smelled of firewood and sweet vanilla nectar. You can hear her rustling through drawers in the bathroom, a very dim touch of yellow slipping out from beneath the crack in the door. The faucet turns on after she's found whatever she needed, and then a string of curses. A snicker climbs your throat like a ladder, your head cocking toward the bathroom entryway in peaked curiosity and amusement.

A countdown begins in your head, anticipating for her to appear in the yellow lighting, dressed in a deep frown. It's at three that she does appear, wet brown hair sticking to her cheeks and holding her single pointer finger to her chest in dramatic dejection. Her bottom lip quivers in a forced pout; her attempt at earning your pity. You cock an eyebrow, not at all sympathetic. She huffs, shuffling toward the bed that you continue to lay unmoving in.

Despite the heavy covers overtop of your body, she plops herself into your embrace, slightly wet skin illuminated by the dim candlelight. Droplets gather closer to her hairline, racing down her porcelain skin when she doesn't wipe them away immediately. One arm locks around your neck, dragging you closer to her. The headboard digs into your back noticeably, but you don't shift in any direction. She'll have to work for what she wants.

"And what happened this time, baby?" You tease, letting go of the balled up comforter and settling your hands on her instead. You snake them beneath the black t-shirt she's clad in, finding not a trace of material as a second barrier. It flusters you immediately, but you can't allow her the satisfaction of noticing. This is her game. This had been her game since you came home from dinner with Nat and Maria. You rub at the skin of her hips, only ever letting your fingers brush the curve of her ass. Nowhere farther, and nowhere deeper.

"I pinched my finger in the cap of your face wash. It's your fault." She whines, bringing her finger away from her chest for the first time since coming out of the bathroom, to instead wave it in your face. The skin is slightly pink, and slightly hard to see in the darkness of your bedroom, but you feign sympathy all the same.

Your brow quirks, your sweet erubescent lips creating a puckered pout that's intoxicating. She draws in a breath that she tries to conceal, only it's far too late by time she realizes her lapse in sadness. You suppress a smirk and a tease at her slipup, just squeezing the flesh of her hips. "Oh, it was my fault, was it?" You tug her closer to you, and allow the gentle gasp that follows to be like music to your ears as she drags against the fabric of the bed covers.

"Yes." Something shifts, something becomes heavy, like you're reminded of your place, but it doesn't dissuade you from keeping up your disinterested front. You're far too stubborn to let it all go so quickly. "Kiss it better." She huffs, placing her finger just out of reach of your lips, waiting.

You pause for a moment, a smirk ghosting over your features. You look younger this way, in this lighting, in her arms. She's in love with this carefree side of you that is protected by walls even with your closest friends. The words fall from your lips so easily, she knows you didn't truly need that second to think, and it only adds to the game the both of you are caught up in. "Why should I?"