Wanda Maximoff One Shots

A.N
Hey readers, so this chapter has more darker theme to it, sex-wise. I put some fluff at the end just to leave it on a lighter note, but overall it deals with overstimulation, exhibitionism, knife play, and misuse of safe word. This is your warning.

(It's also 1 am for me, so don't mind any spelling mistakes or whatever)

The bass thumps wildly, almost shaking the building. Flashing lights wave up and down emitting a mystical vibe to downtown club. Booze and sweat create a swarm over the dance floor where I am currently at. The short black dress, hugging my body, barely covers my ass, so I make a mental note to not lean forward to far.

Soon, I feel wide hands grab onto your waist and move with your swaying hips. I can tell the person behind me is not my wife, but I let them dance with me anyway.

It's all part of the plan.

Grinding against my dancing partner, I feel a bulge start to grow, pressing on my lower back.

"Someone likes my dance moves," I giggle, grinding harder.

The hands tighten around my waist before ascending to my torso, pulling my back against their chest.

"Come home with me," a gruff male voice says.

I smile at just how predictable and easy men are. I turn around, patting his chest in a condescending way.

"No can do, partner."

I turn to find a different spot to dance, but a hand snatches my wrist.

"Oh come on, don't be such a-

Within seconds, the man's eyes are filled with fear as a small but sharp blade presses against his jugular. He has a few inches on my, but that makes me no less intimidating, especially when he meets my eyes and sees no hesitation.

"I said no, prick. Now I suggest you go home to your shithole apartment to fuck that blow up doll sitting in your closet," I grit out.

Pushing him away, he stumbles back. Once he becomes steady on his feet, he shoves people out of his way towards the exit.

"Aww, Detka, he was a valuable patron," a syrupy voice whispers in my ear, lips just barely grazing. I know that mock disappointment anywhere.

I turn around with a innocent smile plastered on my face. "I don't know what happened. One minute he wanted me to go home with him, the next he was running for his life!"

Looping my arms around Wanda's neck, her hands land directly on my barely covered ass. I let out a soft moan at the feeling, which Wanda enjoys all too well. Giving the right cheek a pinch, she grins as I gasp at the pain.

"I guess we'll never know," she whispers before kissing my lips. I bite her bottom lip, hard. As payback, Wanda swats hard enough to leave an imprint on my ass.

Other dancers have moved away from us, giving us plenty of room. I am sure someone would have said something or have had security come and stop us, but once they recognized the redhead, they must have dropped it.

Wanda's hands slide from my ass up to my stomach, leaving one there while the other cups my chin, forcing me to look into her eyes. "Give me the knife."

"Where's yours?"

The hand from my stomach reaches up twisting my nipple harshly through my dress making me cry out.

"Give me the goddamn knife, detka."

I hand her the knife hidden on my thigh. She licks her lips as she sees my eagerness and curiousity. She lifts up the front of my dress with the knife, before using her hand to move my wet panties to the side.