Chapter Text
Wanda Maximoff had never really considered herself to be a prude. She was very open when it came to asking her husband, Vis, for sex. Of course, that didn’t mean she got it. If anything, Vis considered her attempts at propositioning him to be crude.
A teenage romp at Lover’s Point in Westview had ended in a loveless and childless marriage for her. She’d gotten pregnant, and Mr Stark, the town’s Mayor and Vis’ father, had all but forced the pair to marry - only for Wanda to lose the baby a few weeks after the wedding.
Of course, being married to the son of the Mayor had it’s perks. Wanda had everything she needed: a nice house, a nice car, they were never short for money…
But an active sex life? Nuh-uh.
She was usually only able to get some on either her birthday or Vis’ birthday, and given that was only twice a year, she was pretty much constantly unsatisfied.
So now, while she stood in the kitchen looking out the front window doing the dishes, she watched as a removals truck pulled up at the empty house next door, and a red-headed woman hopped out of the driver’s seat in a white tank top and yoga pants - well, Wanda ended up getting a little distracted.
She’d always known she was attracted to women, since a young age, her only regret being when she tried to convince herself she was straight and slept with Vis.
Wanda watched as the redhead opened up the truck and started unloading full, heavy looking boxes.
“Ah,” she seethed, dropping the knife she’d been washing back into the soapy water and grabbing a cloth to wrap around her now-bleeding left thumb.
She glanced out of the window again, catching a glance at the woman’s behind.
Wanda busied herself wrapping a band-aid around her cut, and glanced at the clock above the kitchen door. Almost noon on a summer’s day, perhaps it would be nice to make a pitcher of iced tea for her new neighbour.
Wanda smoothed down her summer dress, then grabbed her supplies and approached the truck carrying the ice cold pitcher and two glasses, a polite smile on her face.
"Hey, neighbour." she greeted, and the redheaded woman turned in surprise.
Two pairs of green eyes met, and Wanda felt her breath catch in her chest momentarily. The woman was even more gorgeous up close, especially with the light sheen of sweat on her skin. Wanda briefly appreciated the shape of her bare arms, too, being careful not to get too distracted so she didn’t get caught leering.
A smile slowly appeared on the other woman’s face as she took Wanda in.
“Glad to see someone’s finally moving in here, I thought it’d be empty forever. Wanda, Wanda Stark,” she introduced herself. “I thought you could use a drink. Looks like hard work all by yourself.”
The other woman straightened up and took one of the offered empty glasses. “Natasha.” she paused. “Roman.”
“Nice to meet you, Natasha.”
Wanda poured out the tea for her new neighbour, then her own, and set the pitcher down on the edge of the removal truck.
“So, is your husband going to join you and help move in?”
Natasha laughed openly, and Wanda found her chest fluttering at the sound. “No, no, I’m not married. It’s just gonna be me living here, or my sister might visit from time to time.”
Wanda nodded as she took the information in, and watched Natasha’s gaze flick to her left hand.
“You alright?” she asked, gesturing loosely to her bandaged thumb.
Wanda held it up a little, catching Nat’s eyes flick to her ring finger quickly then back to her own. “This? I was just doing the dishes, my hand slipped. I’ve had worse. So, what brings you to Westview, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Natasha shrugged a little. “I’m looking for a fresh start. My business partner and I renovate properties and either lease them out or sell them for profit, but I found myself looking for somewhere new to live, so I’m taking this one for myself.”
“Oh, so you’re going to fix the place up? I didn’t want to say anything because you just bought it, but it could definitely do with some TLC.”
Natasha nodded in agreement, and took a long drink of the iced tea, keeping her eyes locked to Wanda’s as she did so.
The brunette grit her teeth and swallowed thickly, trying her hardest to make it discreet.
“I’m gonna put a pool in.” Natasha said, if only to find an excuse to keep talking to the woman.
Wanda made a face of approval. “Well, that’s sure to get the neighbours talking, that’ll be the first one on the street. You never know, maybe you’ll get some extra business if people see you doing a good job.”
“Hopefully,” Natasha agreed, nodding.
“Anyway, I should let you get back to it. You can keep the tea, just bring the pitcher by when you get a moment. Oh, and there’s a street barbecue this weekend, starts at noon on Saturday.”
“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll try and catch it. And thanks so much for the tea, that’s so kind of you.”
Wanda just shrugged as she started to head back to her own house. “What are neighbours for?”
It took Natasha until the end of the next day to move all her belongings in, and after the removal truck had been gone for an hour, Wanda frowned when she heard a low rumbling noise coming down the street.
She looked out of the front window, trying not to be too nosy and thankful for the sun that hadn’t quite set yet, enabling her to see a gorgeous cherry red mustang reversing onto the next door driveway.
The rumbling stopped and, after a moment, Natasha stepped out, once again in her white tank top and yoga pants, and Wanda couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath as she took in the sight of the other woman in the setting sunlight.
Green eyes turned toward her own house and Wanda jumped back quickly, out of sight behind the curtain, silently cursing herself at the possibility she’d just been caught nosing.
She shook her head, and looked at the small clock on the mantel above the fireplace. Vis would be back from his work drinks soon, she supposed she ought to make him a snack to take the edge off of the alcohol.
Wanda was just finishing up making Vis a sandwich when she heard a knock at the door. “One moment,” she called out, putting the sandwich on a plate and into the fridge, before heading for the door.
She opened it, and was pleasantly surprised to find Natasha Roman on the other side, holding Wanda’s own pitcher and glass, the larger container filled with what looked like lemonade.
“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I just thought I’d bring your things back, and then I figured I may as well repay your kindness, too.”
Her smile was brilliant, and Wanda couldn’t help but give one back. “No, you’re not interrupting anything! Please, come in. That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you.” She said as she opened the door wider and gestured for Natasha to enter.
The redhead had swapped her tank top and leggings for a white button up and black slacks, obviously wanting to clean up a little before coming over, and Wanda found herself appreciating the woman’s arms again, with her sleeves rolled up to just above her elbows.
She closed the door behind them and gestured at the sofa. “Please, take a seat. I’ll grab another glass.”
Wanda retrieved another glass from the kitchen, and when she returned she noticed that Natasha hadn’t poured her own drink yet. How polite , she thought, taking a seat next to her.
Until she sat down, Natasha hadn’t noticed Wanda’s return and had been looking around the room, taking in the handful of photos of Wanda and her husband, and the spaces where in most homes there would be more, finding only art instead.
“Where’s Mr Stark?” She asked politely, pouring them two glasses.
Wanda rolled her eyes a little. “He always goes for a drink with his colleagues after work.”
She took a sip of her lemonade. “Oh, that’s sharp!” she chuckled.
Natasha took a drink, too. “I hope you don’t mind, there may or may not be a little vodka in there.”
The brunette’s eyebrows raised, but she took another drink. “Oh, that’s fine! I haven’t had vodka for years, though.”
Natasha nodded. “I noticed it’s not a particularly popular spirit here. Where’d you last have it?”
Wanda seemed to blush a little, and Natasha tilted her head curiously. Wanda found herself enjoying having the other woman’s eyes on her.
“Uh, the last time I remember having vodka, I was eight, actually.”
“Eight? Wow. Starting young.”
Both women laughed freely.
“My father insisted. It was right before we came to America. He said we had to have one drink in our home country before we left it forever.”
Wanda watched as one eyebrow on the redhead raised.
“And where’s that?” she asked, pouring herself another drink.
“Sokovia. It’s this tiny little nation right by Czechoslovakia.”
Natasha squinted at her. “So what’s your maiden name?”
“Maximoff.”
“Huh. Well, now I feel like I can kind of trust you with this -” she paused, as Wanda finished her glass and poured another. “My last name isn’t actually Roman, it’s Romanoff. I shortened it. I’m from Russia and, well, you probably know what Americans are like with Russians at the moment.”
Wanda nodded in understanding. “Your secret is safe with me, дорогой .”
Natasha smiled brightly at her. “You speak Russian as well as Sokovian, then?”
Wanda nodded. “They’re incredibly similar, and my grandmother lived in Russia when I was little so we would visit her. Easy to pick up. Your American accent is great, by the way, when did you move here?”
“Oh, I was just a little girl, too. Maybe twelve. I don’t really remember it too well. Twenty years makes those memories foggy.”
The brunette settled back against the sofa, filing away the information of Natasha being thirty-two. At twenty-eight, with a four year difference, it seemed they left the Soviet area at around the same time.
Natasha leaned back, too, crossing one leg and putting her arm over the back of the couch, her hand coming to rest on it just above Wanda’s shoulder.
“So how come a красавица like you isn’t married yet?” Wanda asked innocently.
Natasha threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh - and the housewife briefly appreciated the curve of her neck and the bob of her throat as she did - before looking back at Wanda with her red waves now a little mussed.
“Well, I’ve already spilled my Soviet heritage, I’m not sure you’re ready for more of my secrets tonight.”
Wanda chuckled a little. “I’m the only other Soviet you’re gonna find in this town, we may as well trust each other.”
Natasha pursed her lips and regarded Wanda for a few long moments, watching as the brunette shifted under her gaze, getting a read on her. She seemed flustered, flattered, even, to be receiving Nat’s attention.
Testing the water, Natasha held eye contact with Wanda for a moment, making sure she was watching her, and let her eyes travel down to Wanda’s lips.
Her gaze travelled a little further, to the barely-there cleavage of Wanda’s summer dress, and Natasha slowly wet her lips, sticking her tongue out just a little.
She watched as Wanda’s breathing hitched, and her chest heaved just that little bit more, a pink flush appearing across her décolletage.
“The reason I’m not married -” Natasha said, slowly dragging her eyes back up to meet Wanda’s, whose pupils were now slightly blown. Natasha let her finger and thumb drop from the top of the sofa onto Wanda’s shoulder, running them gently across the shoulder strap she found there. “- is because I like women.”
Wanda’s lips parted a little.
Her head was swimming. This woman had waltzed into her life less than ten hours ago and not only did they share heritage, language and sexuality, but she was actually flirting with her.
Natasha’s finger on her strap wasn’t even touching her skin, but she burned where hand met cloth. It was the most intimate touch she’d received from another person in as long as she could remember and her body thrummed for it.
Wanda swallowed thickly, and Natasha smiled - almost smirked, really - at seeing the effect she was having on the housewife, so clearly underappreciated.
“Well then,” Wanda muttered, shifting slightly and dropping her shoulder, so that Natasha’s touch met her skin, and she erupted in goosebumps. “я полагаю, что это два секрета, которые мы разделяем.”
Natasha’s smile widened. She didn’t mind flirting with straight women, she was usually able to get them into bed regardless, but there was something delightful about finding a kindred spirit, tied down by a loveless marriage. Hell, if she got Wanda into her bed and it only lasted a night, she’d feel she’d done her a service by treating her right, even briefly.
The older woman stretched her hand, letting it coast slowly up the other woman’s neck, her fingers gently tracing her artery up, then drifting along her jaw, the lightest of touches.
She could tell that Wanda was getting worked up from just the simplest touch, and Natasha couldn’t deny that the sight of her chest heaving did something to her, too.
“When will this husband of yours be home, милашка?” she asked softly, chuckling darkly as Wanda turned wide-eyed at the implication. Her lips parted and Natasha, seeing an opportunity to work her up even further, didn’t hesitate to press the pad of her thumb against red lips.
Wanda was on fire inside. She knew she was sexually frustrated, but getting so turned on by such simple touches and a few choice words was a little ridiculous, even for her.
When Natasha pressed her thumb against her lips, Wanda wasn't even thinking, she just opened her mouth that little bit wider, enough for Natasha to push her thumb inside.
Wanda's mouth closed around it, her tongue pressing against the pad of the digit, and as Natasha pulled it slowly from her lips, Wanda heard her short sigh.
Natasha took her hand back fully, and the two held each other's gazes for what seemed like forever.
Wanda made to lean in, but as she did so, the front door opened, shocking them both from their reverie.
“Wanda, I’m home.” Vis called bluntly, closing the door behind himself and doing a double take at the pair of them on the sofa. “Oh, we have a guest.”
The brunette stood up and moved to take her husband’s coat, as any good wife should, and hang it on the coat rack. “Sweetheart, this is Natasha Roman, our new neighbour.” She explained as she did so. “She just moved in today.”
Vis made his way over to the sofa, and saw Natasha move to get up to greet him.
“Please, no need to stand.” He held his hand out and she leaned up to shake it. “A pleasure. Always nice to have a new face on the street.” He said, perfectly polite, if a little clipped. “You must excuse me, I’m back at work early tomorrow,” he said, and Natasha merely nodded as he turned to Wanda. “I shall head straight to bed, darling. Don’t stay up too late with your girl-talk, will you?”
Vis kissed her on the cheek, offered her a smile, and gave Natasha a flick of a wave as he headed off down the hall to his room.
“Даже не на губах?” Natasha asked quietly, just loud enough for Wanda to hear.
Wanda pursed her lips and shook her head, returning to the couch and sitting down a little closer to Natasha than she was before, her knee brushing the fabric of Natasha’s slacks.
“Anyway,” Wanda said softly. “Where were we?” she asked, and fixed Natasha with a look, challenging her.
Natasha raised an eyebrow at the other woman’s apparent boldness, but put her arm over the back of the sofa again and leaned into Wanda’s space.
“Let me take care of you.” Nat whispered, surprised at how quickly they had moved, but eager nonetheless.
“Oh, Пожалиуста,” Wanda whispered.