InsaneJournal

Wanda tried not to think too hard.

Not about this, anyway – having someone over in the cottage she spent her honeymoon in, the structure a gift in itself. She tried not to think about the photos on the walls, from weddings and receptions (Stephen) to family moments with the kids (Vision) and how it painted a history of love and loss. She did not think about how they’d darken when another set of lips touched hers, like her magic was trying to cover their eyes so they wouldn’t see another set of hands on her, or hear how someone else was able to elicit soft, intimate sounds from her.

Her luck with love was two for two now, and she was not looking for love. But to say this new connection was cold and heartless was far from the truth, and when she kissed Bo - a bit lazily, a bit dirty - in her kitchen, pancake batter mixed and ready to hit the pan, she felt contentment. She didn’t feel lonely. The friendship felt comfortable. It was fun, and the energy exchange was intense between succubus and witch.

Not requiring to wear pants in her presence was also a bonus.

“I think,” she murmured, hands gripping her hips as she pulled Bo close, eyes hazed over in a flash of scarlet before settling back into their normal color, “this is what people call an ‘adult sleepover.’”

“You think correctly,” Bo chuckled. Her hands wound in the loose fabric of Wanda’s shirt, soaking in her scent, in her warmth, in the energy that poured from them both and crackled between them like a livewire. It was easy to get sucked into and hard to want to pull herself away. “That’s exactly what this is.”

Part of her had wondered when this shift would happen since the start. She hadn’t pressed – she was more than content in the friendship they’d created over the past half a year. She credited Wanda with giving her more of a life outside work and Kenzi. Months in Vallo without the fae and her fucked-up family and love triangles plaguing her every thought had gotten her into a rut. Meeting Wanda had changed that, in small but momentous ways.

There was affection between them. Inside jokes. Shared stories. Shared memories, varying from the silly to the serious. Bo knew better than to look for love – both for the sake of her own heart and for Wanda’s – but their chemistry had been so palpable from minute one that something like this? Yeah, it was inevitable. She really thought that was true.

“But I’ve gotta tell you, pancakes aren’t usually part of the package. Pretty amazing bonus, in this case.”

“Pancakes never killed anyone,” Wanda insisted, though she knew what she was getting at. These sort of arrangements didn’t always work with having breakfast together the next day. But they were friends, Bo was here, why not?

(She had a fling or two in Sokovia, very short-lived, distinctly not emotional. Maybe she was rusty.)

“I have coffee, tea, orange juice. Help yourself. And do you prefer big pancakes, or small ones?”

“Go big or go home,” Bo grinned, leaning in to snag another kiss from Wanda’s lips. She pulled away and made a beeline for the coffee maker, hands moving swiftly and efficiently to load it up with grounds and get it started grinding. Coffee was a must in the morning, especially given how intense the night before had been.

With a content sigh as the aroma of coffee began permeating the kitchen, she pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and did a quick search of the cabinet to pull down a pair of mugs.

“So,” she began, back against the counter between the coffee maker and Wanda at the stove, “do we officially debrief now, or are we good?”

Wanda really could opt into letting her magic work the kitchen like she often did; it’s how her shop was always keeping up with production, the appliances and ingredients moving and mixing on auto-pilot in her absence. She also did actually enjoy doing things the old-fashioned way with her hands, and unless she was busy with another task, she kept it that way at home. The batter was poured into the pan once it was heating and she waited dutifully with a spatula to flip the first one over.

“Officially debrief,” she repeated with a chuckle, shaping the batter gently with her utensil to keep it a perfect circle and not some oblong thing while it was still in mostly liquid form. “That sounds very business-like. What do you mean, exactly?”

“Weeeell,” Bo drawled, “that was… spur-of-the-moment.” She hadn’t gone into their plans yesterday evening with any expectation of it turning out this way. She was thrilled it had, no questions there, but now that the line had been crossed from friends to friends-plus, it felt right to sort out their thoughts and feelings about it.

She was doing her best to be better about that here. Her wants and boundaries hadn’t been their best or their clearest in her relationships with Lauren and Dyson, but she’d learned from them. She’d learned what she needed and that was complete transparency with anyone she was with. She’d been doing her best to practice that in Vallo.

Then Wanda herself came with a set of pretty extraordinary circumstances. Bo wanted to be respectful and make sure they were on the same page.

“Are you looking at it as a one-time thing or a recurring thing?”

“I’m fine with it as a one-time thing,” Wanda admitted casually, carefully slipping the spatula underneath the cooked part of the pancake to flip it to the other side. It took some precision – the bigger the pancake, the floppier it was. “I’m also fine with it being a recurring thing as long as you are not looking for anything more. I enjoy our friendship. I don’t want to ruin it.”

Sex could be simple. Sex could be complicated. What she wanted was simplicity, and it had been a long time since another body warmed her bed. She had grown accustomed to sleeping by herself but, sometimes - sometimes - companionship would be nice.

She was also picky and preferred not to bed total strangers. The risk of attachments were low with that, but she was confident in her own state of being to know that getting attached to anyone in a way that could lead into another relationship wasn’t going to happen. She was too tired to pay the toll of inevitably losing them, too done to let another wave of grief swallow her whole.

“So I am comfortable with what you decide,” she added, looking up from the stove to meet Bo’s eyes.

Bo gave Wanda her full attention as she spoke, absorbing her words and studying her body language. In the time they’d known each other, she had never known Wanda to be uncertain. Quiet, yes, but she knew who she was and what she wanted in a way many didn’t. That held true now. She didn’t mince words, didn’t pause to think it over, didn’t fix Bo with the lovelorn gaze she’d grown used to seeing on the various faces of her hook-ups.

Wanda was sure. That quelled any concerns Bo could concoct.

“I enjoy our friendship, too,” she said. “I care about you. Me and ‘more’, though? We don’t mix well.” She had tried, and it had failed fast. Succubi just weren’t meant for monogamy. She craved love, craved that deeper connection, but if her time with Lauren and Dyson had taught her anything, it was that it just wasn’t meant to be. “So, you’re safe there.”

She turned and took a step closer to Wanda, one hand reaching out, fingers trailing down her jaw and chin. “But one night isn’t gonna be enough for me.” She grinned again, voice dropping into something a little more sultry as she leaned in to seal their lips together again.

Wanda didn’t want to make assumptions about Bo’s nature, considering what she was and how that influenced her – she didn’t think she’d have any qualms about having a friend (or two, didn’t she have something with Lucifer?) to have some fun with. She meant it when she said she could go either way. The friendship was the important part.

Anything else was a happy extra.

The pancake was plated right before Bo touched her face, it would be a travesty to let it burn – and Bo’s touch was always electric. She was learning that now. Wanda didn’t mean it in some metaphorical sense either, she could feel that energy seep into her skin. She didn’t let it overwhelm her, but she had to admit.

It was a little addictive.

Her lips parted just enough to accept that kiss, the edges tugged into a pleased smile. It felt nice to kiss someone again. The guilt that bubbled was minute enough to shove away, and she leaned in to enjoy it. “And I am okay with not being exclusive,” she told her afterwards, letting her magic take over the rest of the kitchen. Those pancakes were literally making themselves. “I may not want multiple partners, but that doesn’t mean I expect the same of you.”

“I appreciate that,” Bo murmured, brushing a lock of auburn hair off Wanda’s cheek. “There may be times I’ll see others, but in that aspect, the only other important presence is Lucifer. You know about him.”

Sometimes, it was nice to enjoy sex with someone new as a one-off. She enjoyed the thrill of the instant, carnal connection and indulging in it. There was even a small part of her that enjoyed pulling them under her thrall, just for a little while. But having a friendship with it made her more likely to keep on returning – that was what she had with Lucifer (though that had started in sex and evolved into friendship), and it was what she hoped to have with Wanda now, too.

They were the ones, right now, that she’d keep going back to. It helped that they were both powerhouses, leaving her fed enough to go without picking out randoms to keep her stable. The energy shared between her and Wanda was easily enough to keep her charged up for the next week.

Ah, Lucifer. Wanda tamed her laugh down into a soft giggle, shaking her head. Who didn’t know Lucifer at this rate, but she could understand the appeal of him for Bo - the power, the not-terrible face to look at. “Then you and I are going to be fine,” she deduced, taking the opportunity to let her hand wander up Bo’s shirt. She was soft, and Wanda liked that. “I don’t expect my clothes to hit the floor every time we spend time with one another, but I like the chances of it happening.”

Bo was… good in bed. So terrifyingly good that it was intimidating, all of it better than the use of her own hands or the toys she conjured up for herself. Nothing beats intimacy with an actual person even if she wasn’t interested in strings.

Once the last pancake was plated, she stole another kiss. “Breakfast is served. I have topping options - help yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am. But coffee first.” There was great reluctance in Bo as she pulled away, returning briefly to the coffee to pour two fresh cups. She filled hers up with cream and sugar, leaving Wanda to add her own as she turned to the breakfast that awaited her. She topped it off with powdered sugar, maple syrup, then a splash of cold blueberries.

“So. Plans for today or should I expect to be sent off after breakfast?” She took a seat at the kitchen table and immediately took a slow sip of coffee, humming her approval.

Throwing the person out after sex was the custom, was it not? Wanda had done it the handful of times she was in this kind of situation, but she didn’t feel smothered by Bo to ask her to immediately leave. She prepared her coffee by hand, her pancakes by magic, and occupied the seat across from her.

“I will stop by the shop to check up on things,” she informed her, cutting up the pancakes with the edge of her fork. “That is my only requirement. Other than that – I thought about shopping for plants. Not very exciting things, but you could tag along if you want. Will your roommate flood you with texts asking about your absence?”

“Kenz will be fine,” Bo assured her, waving her fork dismissively before sticking it into a blueberry. She was probably already flooded with texts if she checked her phone, but it had gotten tossed on some surface in the bedroom last night and hadn’t been searched for yet.

“I’ll tag along if you don’t mind,” she agreed, “but…” Her toes stroked playfully down Wanda’s shin underneath the table. “How open are you to being distracted from those tasks a while longer?”

Wanda didn’t respond right away. She took a slow bite of her pancake, studying Bo, and after a few passing seconds, there was that flash in her eyes again – bleeding red, and short-lived.

“Sure,” was her reply, lips slowly quirking into a smile. “Why not.”