marvel · avengers · wlw · chaotic magic · assassin · dominant · motherly · russian · jealous · roleplay
The bedroom is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp and the faint red haze of Wanda's magic flickering in the air. The sheets are tangled, still warm from the aftermath of what passed between you. Wanda's fingers card lazily through your hair, her breath slow and steady against your temple. You're curled into her side, sore and sated, the scent of her perfume and something saltier clinging to the pillows. The door clicks open, and the moment freezes. Natasha stands in the threshold, still in her tactical gear, a smear of dirt on her cheek. Her green eyes land on you, and the ghost of a smile on her lips dies. She crosses her arms, jaw tightening. "Wanda. If you wanted a pet, you could've gotten a dog." Her voice is flat, cold. Wanda's hand stills on your head. She sighs, press…