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Seraphina should have known Queenie would get bored by the event.
In retrospect the event even bored Sera herself. It was a charity auction as such, People bidded on a date with popular members of MCUSA or public figures and such but being the President of MACUSA meant she wasn’t allowed to enter or show any favoritism, not that she wanted to.
She simply had to show up and make a speech and then sit through the bidding to officiate it all in the end. It was a spot of fun for the buyers and partakers surely, but for her? Not in the least.
She’d hoped having her wife there would make things more interesting and, well, it did.
Just not in the way she expected.
Queenie had been an absolute angel during the opening, though she expected nothing less, her wife could charm the gold from a leprechaun, she’d managed to win Sera over after all.
But of course, with a soft smile and gentle voice came an unbelievable string of influence, which extended even to Seraphina, all it took was a firm, coaxing hand and she was putty, wondering even years later how she managed to let this woman steal her from her hard earned coldness.
The thing about Queenie though - the one trait the Goldstein siblings seem to share gleefully - is a need to push the boundaries and see just what they can get away with, and the younger woman was certainly doing so that evening.
They’d settled at their small table together at the back as they weren’t bidding but as soon as dinner was finished Seraphina felt a familiar hand land on her bare thigh, shooting a warning glance to Queenie only to find her wife looking at the stage, beaming that usual sweet smile.
She frowns, but assume it’s merely a comfort thing, turning back to watch their popular Magizoologist climb shyly on stage for his turn at being bidded on. Someone would win a date with Newt, she’d pay to see how awkward that would be.
Unfortunately- or not - though, she’s distracted from possibly the only amusing bidding of the night by a soft hand inching up her inner thigh pink nail catching on her skin in a stinging scratch making her hiss softly under her breath, a tremble of pleasure through her.
It all makes sense in that moment, Queenie insisting on choosing her outfit, the shorter dress, the tight cut of it - she’d planned ahead.
Damn it Queenie not here.
Even the mental words don’t have the conviction they should, her thighs parting just a touch out of instinct. Clenching her jaw when Queenie gives a playful, scandalized gasp. “Oh my, Director Graves is bidding, whoever saw that coming!”
Seraphina near rolls her eyes, but her attention snaps elsewhere when Queenie’s hand pushes entirely under her skirt, knuckles dragging over the fabric of her gold panties - never one to not color coordinate, even down to the smallest detail.
She’s almost humiliated with how she shifts her hips to make things easier for her wife, her breathe hitching when Queenie cups her cunt possessively, blue eyes flashing to her through thick lashes, a smile dissolving into a smirk.
Morgana the witch would be the end of her, Queenie did seem to have a thing for reminding her she’s very much taken, as if the gold band on her finger wasn’t enough.
She enjoyed having Seraphina begging even whilst she ate her out on her desk. Mercy the wonders that mouth worked, hot tongue dragging over her clit before fucking inside her, her thighs trembling as she bought her to the edge over and over.
Seraphina has to muffle a moan when Queenie strokes over her, beginning to rub slowly through expensive lace, finding her clit with an expert roll of her fingers, grinding against her in slow circles.
She jerks, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth, thankful it seems to coincide with gasps as a price climbs higher, frankly she could care less what her Director was doing, as long as he didn’t miss work to fuck tomorrow.
Seraphina can’t help the way she grows wet, electricity up her spine, a knot tightening in her stomach, Queenie knows every way to work her body, well practiced in the art of making her moan, even when entirely inappropriate to do so.
“You’re kinda flushed honey, everything okay?”
She glares darkly at a syrupy purr, loud enough to draw a few eyes, Seraphina’s cheeks flushed and biting at her knuckle, clearing her throat. “Fine. Merely tired from the event.”
The words are thankfully curt enough to pass as normal and people turn away again, but Queenie is nothing if not a tease and it isn’t enough for her to stop. She picks up speed, rubbing faster over Seraphina’s clit, hard grinding motions, the way she adores and Mercy Lewis and Merlin’s balls-
“Now my little Seraph, you’re going to be a good girl and cum when you’re told, right here at your fancy event, all dressed up for everyone to see. You’re going to cum for me, or I’ll have to punish ya, okay?”
She swallows hard when Queenie leans over to giggle the words, her hips already fighting not to roll against her hand but with the threat of punishment - recalling the last time she’d ended up getting herself into trouble - she nods sharply, licking over her lower lip.
“Answer me honey, I want to be clear.”
Seraphina’s face heats she swears she’d never blushed as much in her life until Queenie came along, a game changer her wife was. She frowns at her, remaining stubborn for bare seconds until the younger woman moves her hand to push inside of her panties instead, dragging her fingers through drenched folds making Seraphina gasp and twitch, biting her tongue to muffle an embarrassingly loud moan.
“Yes My Queen.” She’s no longer surprised by how fast she breaks, breathing the words and loving giving up control for once, letting Queenie take charge and care for her. Foregoing all her power just to be herself, grinding down on her fingers, folding one arm around her middle, pressing her fist to her mouth, trying to make the look of pleasure darker for anyone glancing their way.
She doubts it works and Queenie pushes two fingers inside her, curling them beautifully - but she doesn’t move after that and Seraphina makes a sound of disbelief, knowing she wants her to bring herself to release.
Seraphina makes a small whimper, lashes fluttering, the hand at her middle moving to the table, held in a fist, nails biting into her palms. Perhaps she’d look angry, which fits given her damn Director was bidding - which he wasn’t meant to be - so she allows them to think that, uncaring as she starts working her hips, trying to remain subtle as she chases that blinding heat.
Queenie lets her all but ride her fingers, eyes glassy, cheeks a little colored, so very close to cumming but needing just a little more.
She’s too lost in it to be ashamed when she brings her hand down from the table to between her thighs, pushing under Queenie’s just enough to rub over her clit, thighs clamping around her, biting her knuckle.
She vaguely registers cries of surprise and delight, assuming Percival won if the commotion was anything to go by, but she’ll scald him and congratulate him later, right now she can see a notion of heaven as she forces her eyes open, looking to Queenie who’s smirk widens as she leans in.
“Cum for me honey, give me somethin’ sweet to enjoy in all this crazy.”
Seraphina chokes on a sound, stiffening to stop from crying out and bucking as she cums, working over her clit, cunt clenching, soaked and hot and desperate but her orgasm is wonderful and she melts, left in a lingering sort of heat after.
Queenie mutters a cleaning spell, turning Seraphina’s head with a gentle grip, pressing a kiss to her lips and Sera doubts she’ll ever get used to the soft, warm feeling that fills her chest at the move, absolutely in love with the feeling of a full mouth coaxing hers open, stealing her breath before she pulls away.
“Good girl, now, go and do your job so I can take you home and taste my sweet thing properly, ‘kay?”
Seraphina nods, adjusting her headpiece, pushing up on stubbornly-not-weak legs, walking to the stage to hush the arguing between Percival and another bidder, pinching the bridge of her nose when the man makes a lewd comment about Newt and her Director prompted punches him in the face.
Men, he could have just asked Newt to dinner, but no apparently a spectacle was needed.
She looks back to see Queenie giggling, recalling how much it had taken for her to gather the courage to ask the woman out, how much of a wreck she’d been - ridiculously so, looking back, Percival was much the same about the Magizoologist.
Perhaps it ran in the job line to be brilliant with power and terrible with romance. Luckily for them though - she thinks it as a freckled hand and blushing cheeks pulls the Director away, whispering sweet words to him - they both caught the eye of someone worth all the effort in the world.
Though, that wouldn’t make the paperwork from all this any lighter.