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#fic request
fanaticsnail · 15 hours
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"Good Boy"
Masterlist here
Word count: 3,200+
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Synopsis: Eustass Kid didn't know exactly when it happened, but now he craves to be praised by you. He thrives beneath your words, but the one time you didn't call him a "good boy" has him in a bratty rage.
Themes: mutual pining, kid x gn!reader, fluffy, praise kink Kid, he just wants to be a good boy, no kisses just praise.
Notes: it's past 1am where I am, and I physically couldn't get to sleep until I got this request by @remisloves out of my mind. It's all about praise and softening rough characters lately with me. Good night everyone! Sweet blorbo dreams
Tag list: @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @carrotsunshine
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A shudder erupted from the base of Eustass Kid's spine to the top of his cranium. Downturning his chin, he attempted to disguise how wide his smile had risen to his lips beneath the shadow of his blast goggles. 
Never one to shy away from a challenge, Captain Kid pushed himself to the absolute limit to best his latest opponent. Blood dripping from his body, his bones bent to the point of nearly breaking. The weight of his metal arm overencumbered his body, his brute strength no longer enough to propel his legs forward. 
Successful at last, he claimed their loot in their vast treasury, selecting a few key pieces that caught his eye to present back to you: a former thief, his ships’ appraiser, and now his curator of chronological dialogue, items and routines. 
What would possess this hulking captain to risk his body and his crew to collect this small piece of art to present to you? Why would he ever risk such a heavy physical toll for a mere trinket? 
Because he was a good boy. 
And you always informed him as such.
While Kid saw no need for a chronicler initially, he very quickly warmed to the idea of maintaining one on his payroll. When Massacre Soldier Killer suggested a small snippet of their adventures be cataloged in journals, Kid never knew that reading the words back would prompt a rapid boil beneath his skin. A craving. A need. 
Seeing those words scribed on paper held him hostage. Those doting, praising, uplifting words that held such passionate composition regarding his exploits; they pushed him to go further, drive harder, propell longer in his adventures. This was all in an attempt to dream of seeing more of those beautiful words describing him articulated upon paper. 
Well, his exploits at least. 
Most of all, he craved to hear them depart from your lips. You managed to slip a single verbalized expression of praise once upon his return from doing a menial task. Since then, he was hooked on the rush it brought him. 
“Oh, wow! Captain, you've done so well! So unbelievably well!” was that first door opening to the praise he needed. 
That small snippet from you, was all well and good in his opinion. He did enjoy your recognition of his talent, but it was not what he craved the most. 
And what he wanted the most, was to be told he was, “a good boy.” 
He couldn't explain it, but the thought of hearing those words flee from your lips had his eyelids half-hooded, eyes glazed, pupils blackened and blown, and a droopy smile lazily draw itself up onto his lips. 
You had only ever come close one time to praising him personally, rather than the talent of his exploits. He felt the flutter of his heart rapidly igniting his veins with adrenaline, screaming with his eyes for you to utter the words he so desperately craved. 
And you said it. 
You finally said it today. 
His feet thumped upon the wooden deck, after he hoisted himself over the small opening on the side of the ship. The ‘away team' had finally assembled together and began greeting those who remained behind. 
Rushing to greet your Captain, he shot you a reciprocated, triumphant and winning smile, while happily presenting a small object up to you in the center of his right, flesh hand. 
“You found it? You actually found it?” your eyes widened, reaching your hand out to Kid's extended right palm. His body was still dripping with the blood of his enemies, a visible shake in his fingertips as he elevated the trinket up to you. 
“It nearly cost me my other arm,” he winced through the words, his forearm beginning to twitch beneath the strain of his exhaustion, “But I brought it back for you-...” he halted his words, pondering whether it was now time to make his affections known or not “...-to add to the collection.”
“For me?” your eyes widened, looking at the shiny and ornate gold filigree design. In the center of the flattened piece lay a single garnet: small, something one would cast aside should more items be presented. But to you, a prized piece in an antique collection you had been dedicating your life to find. 
“It's the missing piece, yeah?” Kid smirked, huffing through his words as the rest of the crew assembled atop the Victoria Punk, “The one you told us about last Friday?”
“Honestly, Captain, I don't remember half of what happened last Friday,” you confessed sheepishly, up turning your brows as your fingers brushed against his palm, “You'd think my liver would be able to tolerate being aboard your ship, drinking that slosh alongside the crew by now.”
He barked a cracked cackle at your confession, prompting your own to rise in your chest. His laugh was contagious, a laugh that could be felt through his whole body springing and vibrating up within your own. 
“Thank you, captain,” you expressed your deepest gratitude to the taller man, your head nodding in praise, “You don't know what this means to me.”
After a moment's pause, he looked down at the object before bringing his whisky-coloured eyes back up to meet with your own. He inhaled a shaken breath, baited and waiting within his lungs while anticipating his next words. 
“S-So,” he stuttered over his words, scolding himself under his own anxiety, “Did I do good? Is this the one you needed? Am I a-...” he didn't want to lead you into giving him the praise he desperately sought, but didn't want to not hear it either. 
With all the patience you could muster upon such a triumphant moment in your life, you prompted him with your eyes to have him complete his sentence. 
“...Am I a good-...” trying so, so hard to say the final word, he physically couldn't have them pass his lips, “...-Captain?” He mentally slapped himself, knowing that those were not the words he craved and how stupid that must've made him sound. 
You took a moment to carefully think about your next words, noticing how bruised he was, how bloody his knuckles were, how a lot of the crew that went with him on this private ‘away mission' were faring upon return. 
“Of course you are. You captain us extremely well, sir,” you uttered with a soft smile, “I'll adjust my findings accordingly in the journals, if I may be excused?” 
A small puff of air flew from his lips, defeat almost tangibly thick as it shrouded his shoulders with its presence. He looked away after giving his nod of dismissal, his gaze fixed on the wood of the deck below his feet. 
Your smile widened, claiming the object from his palm and holding your hand within his for a moment longer, before withdrawing completely. Fluttering your eyes over each fixed point of concern on his features, you searched for what his body seemed to be screaming for. 
Thanking him with a curt nod, you turned on your heel and abruptly halted your next step. 
At this moment, it fully dawned on you exactly the words your Captain wanted to hear. Eustass Kid, captain of the Kid pirates, champion and leader of the Victoria punk, devil-fruit user and wielder of Haki… had a praise kink. And he wanted you to praise him. 
A playful smile spread like warm honey up your cheeks, a scrunch in your nose as you rolled your next words over your tongue. You turned your head over your shoulder, guarding your intentions close to your chest as you spoke two words that almost had your Captain fall on his knees in gratitude. 
“Good boy.”
From that moment on, he was simply smitten. No matter what he did, whether it was aiding his crew with carrying supplies, carrying out great acts of violence, defending his Nakama from their enemies, or simply finishing his vegetables at meal time - he would look to you in anticipation, that anticipation being met with those two simple words. 
“Good boy.”
They echoed within his mind, swirling around within the chasms of his brain as slumber eluded him. He did not mind in the slightest having his lack of rest consumed with praises departing from your lips. 
Your voice plagued him, haunted him as a spectral ghost would hunt down their unfinished business. He did not mind such a haunting, in fact: he wanted more. He wanted to have more praise, more compliments, more of your verbal, beautiful words crying out from your perfect lips. 
He was smitten, completely smitten, by your compliments. The way your talented tongue made his name sound, the way your lips curved up in a knowing smirk each time you told him he was a ‘good boy.’
Until the day you didn't. 
Eustass Kid was in a foul mood, one that nobody knew the cause nor the cure for such a horrid, stampeding mess of a captain. Food, ales, meads, even gold - nothing appeared to pry him from his raging temper. Breaking tankards, tipping over tables, scattering documents on his captains’ desk, nothing was safe from the wrath he was wreaking on the furniture. 
Hunched over your desk, you continued cataloging and appraising the latest haul of trinkets and treasures thrust into your office. It was overwhelming for you, the sheer number of items scattered around your room. You attempted to alphabetize them, sort them accordingly and lump them into itemized piles. 
The toll the elevation of work raised onto your shoulders had you dismiss all those who presented you with various finds, including your Captain. He rocked on the ball and heels of his feet, eagerly awaiting and anticipating his sought-after praise - but found nothing but an anxious sigh and scratch of your neck in response to his hard labor. 
This was the reason for his intense rage.
After leaving your office, and selfishly paying no mind to your exhausted expression, he began to spiral.  
“He was so good. Why didn't you tell him he was? Was there something he could've done better? Something he could've pushed harder to strive for?” all circled within his mind as he tore piece after piece of his office apart. 
Several hours had passed, and you carved a hefty chunk of your work apart and managed to get a fair bit done. It was nowhere near complete, but it had you feeling a sense of anxious accomplishment. 
A knock at the door prompted you to raise your chin, eyes panicked and overwhelmed with the amount of work still required to be completed before mealtime. 
“Need help?” The light flickered off the cerulean and pearl colored mask of the first mate, who peeked his head around the doorframe. 
“Please,” you sighed, gesturing to your position kneeling on the ground beside you. Killer promptly entered your office, crouching beside you and sifting through the uncharted treasures still needing to be sorted. 
“What we up to?” he elevated his hand, gesturing out to the various piles in front of you both, “I think I see where they need to go. You written down them all?”
“All recorded in the book, down to the last drooped earpiece,” you confirmed, nodding to the mess in the center of the room, “They just need to be put in the right piles, locked in the treasury, and then we can call it a night. Maybe have an ale, if you're up for it, Kil?”
After a moment's pause, both of you rolling the items in your fingertips and placing them within the according: gold, silver, platinum, gemstone, raw material, ceramic, wearable materials, and weaponry piles. 
“Leave this with me,” Killer uttered, placing a throwing knife within the weaponry stack, “And you go and perform your other job.”
“What other job?” your brows knit with confusion, “I've already done the journalling of the exploits, the timetabling of the crew shift-changes, notarizing the stock we need within the kitchen-.”
“-Oh, no, buckaroo,” you could audibly hear the smirk behind Killer's mask as he teased you, “the other one. The one nobody pays you to do.”
“Which is, champ?” you taunted in return, nudging him with your shoulder roughly against his, “Be specific.”
“The one where you-...” he took this brief pause as an opportunity to sigh in huffed frustration, “...-where you tell our captain he's a good boy. Although, in his current state,” Killer rotated his neck to relieve the tension on his shoulders, “I might even go so far as to suggest you call him a bad one, considering that's exactly how he's behaving.”
Your confusion knit your brow down in the center of your face, your mind focussing on when the last time you praised the puppy you had turned your Captain into. 
“Oh, fuck! I didn't praise him when he brought in the loot!” your eyes widened in shock, promptly rising to your feet and brushing over your pants, “I just got so overwhelmed by the sheer bloody number, I couldn't think of anything else. Oh, I'm an idiot.”
“You're not an idiot,” Killer interrupted you, rising to his own feet and cupping your shoulders in an attempt to halt the rise in your anxiety, “Hell, you're not even dating him. It shouldn't be your job-,” he brushed over your shirt, adjusting the crumpled material to make it more appealing to the eye. 
“-Yet here you are,” he concluded, nodding at you before glancing down at the piles of treasure, “And here I am: the first-mate, the best friend, the confidant. The one who is unable to tear him away from his absolutely shit-house mood, because all he wants is you.”
You attempted to stifle the warm flush that drew itself up to your cheeks. Captain Kid was a tall, broad and intimidating man - those were the three assessments you initially made when you were hired to serve aboard the Victoria Punk. Then you got to know him, and were made privy to truly see who he was beneath the surface. 
The twinkle behind the feral rage, the purity in his unbridled emotions, the lack of restraint in all his advances: you adored him. When he began to seek out your praises, you were immediately swooning at his attention. 
He wanted your words, not just due to the fact words were your job, but because he wanted you to speak them. Just to speak his praises to be granted the luxury of a light tingle in his ears, a blush rise to his cheeks and a smile decorating his lips with such beautiful words. 
Now within the doorframe of your captain's office, you arched your brow and crossed your arms. Leaning on the wooden panel, you continued to watch his chest rise and fall with each exasperated and berzerk breath. Your eyes never left his body, each arch of his back and ripple of his muscles straining under the taut fabrics atop his shoulders. 
“All this because I didn't call you a good boy?” you addressed him in a low and dangerous tone. His feral eyes snapped over to you, widening as he truly witnessed the devastation in the destruction in his office. 
“You've been a bad boy, I see,” you continued in your dark tone, promptly stepping into his office and closing the door behind you, “Look at all this mess. Tsk, naughty.” 
The click of your tongue had Kid arching his back, straightening his spine as he bit back a soft whimper. His brows triangulated in the center of his face, bottom lip now quivering under the weight of your disciplinary tone. 
Circling his body, fingers brushing against his large right hand beside his hip as you leaned into him. You shook your head, stooping down and beginning to collect the paper, stationary, tankards, and paperweights that had been flung against the floor. 
Before you could say a following, disciplinary word, Kid immediately fell onto his knees and began hurriedly picking up the items he threw onto the ground beside you. 
“I-I’ll pick it all up,” he nodded his head as to confirm his words further, “I'll tidy up all this shit. Please, I-I’m sorry. I just-.”
“-Just wanted to be praised, hm?” you hummed at him. He hid his head from view, his painted lips pouting while his eyes held their attention firmly against the mess. 
He nodded, the weight of finally admitting his craving lifting off his chest and shoulders as he received the items you were holding atop the stack he was forming. 
“Tidy up your mess, handsome,” you smiled, elevating your right hand to capture his pointed chin within your thumb and index finger, “I'll watch every step you take, and let you know how good you're being, if you do it properly.”
Kid’s breath caught in his lungs, a pink dust settled against his cheeks and ears. He hurriedly rose to his feet, up-turning his askew desk and dusting off his captains’ chair. He extended it outwards, wordlessly and politely gesturing for you to take a seat. 
“My, my,” you commented, rising to your feet and accepting his invitation, “Such a gentleman, you're being. But, you've gotta’ work a little bit harder to earn that title you crave.”
Captain Eustass Kid was a dutiful, whimpering puppy under your watchful eyes. He was, almost, happily rearranging all of the objects he had thrown askew. He even took the time to appropriately categorize the pages he didn't complete prior to his little tantrum.
“Hm, very good. Well done picking up after yourself.” He blushed further at your words, but craved so much more. 
“Oh, look at how much time you're taking on that bookshelf. I can even see how clean you're making each of the panels. Look at you go, big boy.” That praise had him whimpering, his eyes fluttering shut as he continued to clean in silence. 
“So strong, picking up that heavy weight all by yourself. So proud of you.” He could not stop the audible gasp, nor the rush of blood seeping to places they had no business in flooding to at that moment. 
He completed all this while glancing over his shoulder and thriving beneath the giddy feeling rushing to his chest upon being the center of your unwavering gaze. 
Upon the last paperweight being placed and straightened atop his desk, he knelt between your knees and glanced up into your eyes. He looked innocent of all wrongdoing, all prior anger and malice fleeing from within his silent pleading. 
He was desperate for those words, those two simple little words that he so yearned for. Noseying up further between your knees, his shuddering metal and flesh hands cautiously placed themselves gently on your calves. 
Soft and slow circles were traced against your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as they began twinkling with hope. All his mind was screaming, silently and internally, was a simple repetition of: “Please, please, please. Say it, say it, say it.”
And you obliged him by leaning down, caressing his left, scarred cheek and drawing your lips close enough to taste the tingle of his breath upon your skin. Hovering before contact was made, you floated your gaze between his whisky-hued orbs and his parted lips with a soft smile. 
“Good boy.”
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creampuffqueen · 2 days
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Creampuffqueen Account Birthday Fic Bash!!!
Hello all my dear friends and followers!! Today is this account's sixth birthday, which is just wild to me. It's hard to believe I've been on tumblr for that long, but here we are. I just wanted to come on here and say how grateful I am for this account and all of the lovely friends I've made from it!
And, as a celebration, both of this account's birthday and the 400 follower milestone I recently passed, I will be opening up my fic requests!
It's been quite a while since I've done this, and it will likely be a long time before I do it again once this is over, so please take advantage of it while y'all can! I'm very excited to create things from my lovely followers' favorite characters and ships!
Now, there are a few rules/guidelines for this. Please take the time to read these before requesting!
When you send in a request, please send in the characters/ships you want AND some kind of prompt. it can be a quote, it can be one of those ship prompt things from a list, it can be some ideas and a general vibe. But please give me something to work with!
If I've posted for the fandom before, it's fair game. This is a multifandom blog and I enjoy all kinds of media. It doesn't matter how long ago it was, if you saw me post for that fandom then I will be down to write for it
These don't all have to be ship fics as I'm more than happy to write gen/friendship focused fics. If you do send in a ship, just note that for the most part I enjoy canon ships over non-canon ones. That's not to say I won't do something non-canon, not at all. But if you're stuck between two ships and one is canon while the other isn't, I'm more likely to enjoy the canon one. If you have a question about a particular ship, please feel free to send in an ask and I will let you know my thoughts on it!
Please keep all prompts SFW
BABYFICS!!! they are my specialty and I love writing them. If you've been craving seeing your favs with cute babies, this is the place to request it. Just putting this out here as I know babyfics aren't a lot of peoples' jam (which is totally cool) but they are mine! In fact they're some of my favorite things to write ;)
I reserve the right to refuse any request. If I won't write it, I will do my best to answer your ask with why so you can send another request if you want
You can send in multiple requests, but please keep in mind that I am just one person, and a busy college student at that. Please have patience! I will be doing my absolute best to get all of these written in a timely manner, but life happens, and I won't be sacrificing grades/personal life for these, no matter how excited I am to write them
I know that's kind of a lot but I want to keep things as streamlined as possible so everyone can request things easier!
Fic requests will remain open for a week or two, depending on how many I get. The fics themselves will be pretty short, probably ~1000 words each, give or take, so I don't burn myself out by writing all of them. This post will be my pinned post for as long as requests are open, and I will remove it once they are closed.
Happy requesting!! I can't wait to see everyone's ideas! Thanks for participating in my account's birthday bash!
For examples of my writing:
Writing Masterlist
Ao3 Account
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scarlethexelove · 2 months
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I’d love to see a Wanda x Reader fic where Wanda is practicing a new duplication spell, and she asks reader to help spot any differences between her and her new “clone”. The game turns flirty and then cue a Wanda/Reader/Wanda threeway :)
Seeing Double
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 3569
Warnings: Smut, Spell gone wrong (Or oh so right), Strap-on (R receiving), Oral on Strap-on (Wanda receiving), light bondage (Only a split second), Enchanted Straps, Cum filled Straps, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Two Wanda's, Anal, Double Penetration, Plugs, Anal fingering, Mommy Kink, Mistress Kink, Slight selfcest (Just making out), Squirting, A bit of Cock warming
A/n: I was so excited to write this. Hopefully it doesn't get too confusing with the double Wanda's. I tried my best to tell who was who when doing anything. Thank you for the request and I really hope you like it.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
“Wands?” You call out as you open the door to the study. Wanda likes to use it to practice her magic. You would normally never disturb her while doing so, but she has been in there awhile and you just wanted to make sure she was ok and to bring her something to eat and drink. She warns you that it is dangerous and she would never want to hurt you. So you normally stay away like she said but your nerves got the best of you so you made your way inside. 
The tray clatters to the ground. The cup of tea shattering on impact. Your stunned, mouth hanging agape. There in front of you is your girlfriend and also your girlfriend. You rub your eyes thinking something is wrong with you but when you blink there are still two Wanda’s standing in front of you. “I- What? Why are there two of you?” You stammer out. 
Both Wanda’s stare at you in a bit of shock. They never expect you to come in here and to see this. It’s like watching a mirror as both of them gain their composure at the same exact time. Their expressions are the same as they soften, seeing you and the fact that you had dropped what seems to be food and water for them, albeit there is only supposed to be one of them. 
“Detka a spell didn’t go quite as planned.” One of them speaks. “I didn’t mean to copy myself; it was an unexpected result of a spell.” The other one finishes. Which causes a different confusion now. “Which one of you is the real Wanda?” You question looking between them. They share a look that you don’t quite understand until the first one speaks. “Well we both are real Milaya. But since you're here now why don’t you try and figure out which one of us cast the spell.” The second one purrs in your ear with the last part. Both of them circling you like prey. You gulp both women making you squirm with their intense gaze. It doesn’t take much for your girlfriend to make you squirm like this but now that there are two of them it’s even easier. You nod your head at their words when you grow confident enough to look up into their eyes. 
The first thing you try doing is asking questions to both of them, but both of them answer all the questions correctly. You're getting frustrated with asking questions to the women. You feel as if you're a bad girlfriend for not being able to tell but the one is pretty much a carbon copy of your girlfriend. So you moved to a different tactic but you’re not so sure if it was the worst idea or the best idea you have ever had in your life. Both women are standing in front of you naked. You wanted to see if there were any differences such as marks or scars but both of them were the same. But now your mind is wondering.
You let out a noise of frustration and upset, almost sounding like a whine as you stand behind one of them. You haven’t noticed the swirl of red in their eyes as they have followed you. You're taken by surprise when the Wanda in front of you whirls around and grabs your waist tightly. You let out a gasp looking up at her. “Mommy.” You whimper. There is a proud smirk on her face. “Good girl.” She purrs, you can feel a gush of arousal at the praise. “But that pretty little head of yours has been very loud and very naughty. We have been listening to you for a while now. Do you want to be our pretty little slut? For Mommy and her duplicate to use you.” Her eyes darken as your eyes grow with surprise and need. You let out a whimper as you nod. 
Another body presses against you from behind. You can feel her hardened nipples in your back as her lips meet your neck sucking harsh red and purple marks on your skin. “You're such a dirty girl. Wanting to be used by us.” The second one mumbles nipping at your skin. “Fuck Wanda you should have made two of us a long time ago if it was going to turn her on this much.” She lets out a hum continuing to attack your neck leaving marks behind. Another whine escaping your lips as your head drops back onto her shoulder giving her more access. 
But as quickly as they started they both pulled away from you. “Whyyyy?” You whine, your mind already feeling fuzzy and needy for both the women from their touches. “Patience detka. I want you to go and sit on the couch.” Your Wanda demands. You obediently and quickly head over to the couch sitting down. “How about to keep things simple you can call me Mistress.” The other Wanda states. You nod. “Yes Mistress.” They both smile at how obedient you’re being. “Such a good girl we have. So pretty and obedient.” The second Wanda says. With a wave of her hand you feel the cold air on your skin. Your nipples are pebbling at the cool air now surrounding your body. 
“Mommy? Mistress?” You want them so badly to touch you already. “Patience. Do you want a punishment?” Your Wanda speaks. “No Mommy.” You shake your head and look down. You don’t hear anything for a second so you look back up and that is when you see it. The other Wanda gripping your Wanda’s hips kissing her harshly. The two are making out holding onto one another which is turning you on even more. Wanting nothing more than to be touched by them but you don’t want a punishment so you swallow the whimper threatening to escape. Your body squirms as your thighs become coated in your arousal. You're rubbing your legs together in any hopes of relief. But that is ripped away from you quickly. Red tendrils wrap around your ankles forcing them apart. Biting your tongue not to make a noise. You catch both women's eyes glancing over at you as they continue their actions. 
You're fighting everything inside of you that tells you to plead and beg for them to touch you. Your squirm in your seat as your arousal begins to soak the cushion under you. A small whimper that you weren’t able to hold back escapes your lips. Both women pull away and their eyes land on you. You quickly look down not wanting to meet their gaze. “I-I’m sorry.” You stutter out. 
A finger hooks under your chin. You hadn’t even noticed that they had crossed the room joining you both standing looking down upon you. Gently she pulls you to look up at her. The green in her eyes is barely visible as the blacks of her eyes overtake them with desire. “Tell Mommy what you want detka.” Her voice low, sending another wave of arousal. You try so desperately to close your legs forgetting the binds keeping them apart. “Want Mommy and Mistress to touch me.” Your voice barely above a whisper as both women chuckle. “I am touching you Milaya” You let out a  whine before a rush of words. “Please Mommy want you to fuck me. Want you and Mistress to fuck me till I can’t walk. Use me however you please. Just please fuck me.” 
Your Wanda is leaning down, lips hovering just out of reach. “I love it when you beg.” Her lips crash into yours, as your hands move to her waist gripping onto her. She asserts her dominance quickly as you open your mouth to let her in. Her tongue is searching for yours. You can feel Wanda’s need in the hungry way that she is kissing you. Still gripping your chin, keeping you exactly how she wants you. 
You're so caught up in the kiss you don’t even notice the magic swirling around until you feel a weight on your thigh and one that has slapped against your arm. You pull back quickly panting as you look down slightly. There around your Wanda’s hips is a red large strap with ample girth. A gasp leaving your lips at the sheer size of it. You quickly look beside you and see the other Wanda sitting there. You hadn’t noticed her even sitting at all. She is adorning an identical strap to your Wanda. 
In your shocked state the other Wanda’s hand snakes between your thighs swiping through your wet folds. “Fuck you’re so wet Kotenok.” She groans. “M-Mistress.” You whimper. Your Wanda sits down next to you and turns your face back to her and attacks your lips. The other Wanda plunges two of her fingers into your heat. Your moaning in your Wanda’s mouth as the other fucks her fingers into you. Your Wanda’s hands moving to your breast pinching and twisting your hardened peaks. Swallowing all the noises that escape your pretty little mouth. 
It doesn’t take long to have you on edge. Your walls clenching desperately around the other Wanda’s fingers, your hands gripping anywhere on your Wanda that you can, digging your nails in harshly to her skin. It all stops on a dime. Both women pull away from you causing you to let out another whine in frustration. Your wall quivering asking for their release. 
“Hands and knees Kotenok.” The other Wanda says. They both move to give you room as you scramble to get on your hands and knees. Your Wanda is positioned in front of you sitting up on her knees, the strap mer inches from your lips. The other Wanda is behind you and you can already feel her shuffling closer to you. She swipes the tip through your folds causing you both to moan. As your mouth opens to moan you Wanda shoving her cock into your throat causing her to let out a moan. You know now that both straps are enchanted and can feel everything. You can’t help but let out a moan at that which causes your Wanda to moan again. Feeling the vibrations from your throat on her cock.
“Mommy is going to use your throat while Mistress takes you from behind. You like that little whore?” You do your best to nod with her strap bobbing in and out of your mouth. “Fuck! This pussy is always so good.” The second Wanda says sinking further into you the stretch is slightly painful but oh so delicious. “Maybe Mistress will use this other pretty little hole back here.” Her hands spread your cheeks admiring as you clench. You try to speak but all that can be heard is gurgles as Wanda slowly fucks your mouth. The women don’t need to hear what you say and they don’t even need to read your mind, all they have to do is read your body's reactions. “By the way you're clenching I’m betting you want me to use this tight hole.” A finger presses against your ass and all you can do is whimper and press back.
“If I had known all it would take for me to be able to take that little ass of yours was to have two of me I would have done this a long time ago. I’ve been dying to sink my strap deep in your ass detka.” You look up at your Wanda tears in your eyes as she smiles down at you. But you’re caught off guard when she thrusts hard into your throat causing you to gag and for the tears to start spilling down your cheeks. Her hand cups your face as she wipes the tears. “So pretty when you cry for me. Such a good girl taking my strap down your throat.” She punctuates each word with a thrust of her hips. This sends your body back onto the other Wanda’s cock. Her lubed finger slipped into your ass, you don’t even remember her getting any lube but then you realize that she has magic just the same. Already feeling so full with just one finger you don’t know how you will take any more. 
The women start on a brutal pace of fucking your throat and pussy. As the other Wanda fucks into your pussy it pushes your further onto your Wanda’s strap causing you to gag. As she thrusts forward it sends you back further on the other strap while the other Wanda is still slowly fingering your ass. All that can be hard in the room is the sounds of moans, your gaging, and the wet sounds of your pussy. 
The finger in your ass is removed before feeling a cold metal pressing against your tight ring. The coldness makes your jumps slightly but neither of them seem to care as the other Wanda starts to press a metal plug into your ass. You let out a whine as it presses in stretching further than you have ever gone. The women taking pity on you and slowing down to take their time. The other Wanda uses her other hand to gently caress your hips. “Shhh it will feel so good when it’s all in.” She tells you as she slowly works it in. Your Wanda pulls back to give you a chance to breathe as it sinks in. You let out a groan when you feel it pop into place the slight fullness, a new and exciting feeling. 
“You like that detka?” Your Wanda asks you. You look up at her and see a gentle smile on her face still having concern for your pleasure. “Y-Yes Mommy.” You give her a small smile back. Once they both know that you are ok they quickly flip the switch back. Your Wanda shoving you so far down on her cock making you gag as your nose pressed against her stomach. The other Wanda pressing on the plug as she jackhammers her hips into you. Your Wanda holds you there as you keep getting presses further into her. Their moans bouncing off the walls of the room. Tears are steadily streaming down your face as they fuck into you roughly. 
Right now they are chasing their own pleasure you can feel their hips stuttering as they both fuck into you. The other Wanda has a harsh grip on your hips as she thrust hard and deep each time. Your Wanda has pulled you back slightly so she can fuck your throat enjoying as she watches the tears roll down your cheeks. Their moans turn you on, causing your thoughts to only be of giving them pleasure. Your walls are clenching tightly around the other Wanda signaling that you are all close to your impending orgasms. If it was even possible they seemed to have picked up their pace. The other Wanda hits your spongy wall perfectly with each thrust. You want to tell them you are close but they already know. 
“Fuck. Cum with us Kotenok.” The other Wanda moans. “Got a nice surprise for you detka.” You Wanda adds. Her hips jerked as you felt a warm sticky liquid sliding down your throat. You moan around her doing your best to swallow. The other Wanda’s load fills your pussy as your walls clamp hard around her as you cum with her. Your cum coating her cock as she continues to thrust, riding you both through your highs. Your Wanda is still lightly thrusting, filling your throat with her white sticky substance. As all of you come down your Wanda pulls out of your mouth and gently kisses your lips. The other Wanda staying buried inside of you. “So good.” You mumble causing both women to smile. “You didn’t think we were done with you yet, did you detka?” Your Wanda says as the other pulls back and thrust hard into you again. 
You have lost count of how many orgasms you have had now. They weren’t kidding about making sure you can’t walk. They have had you in all different positions as they fuck and fill you. Your body is weak and exhausted as you're now hovering over the other Wanda's cock. She is tugging on the plug as she removes it from your ass causing you to whimper. “One more detka. Hmm be a good girl for Mommy and Mistress.” Your Wanda smiles in front of you. Your brain is too fuzzy to fight it so you nod. “Okay Mommy.”
The other Wanda is laying back on the couch as they both help guide you onto her strap. She presses it against your ass as you start to sink down. Your eyes widened, your brain hadn’t put together that this is what they were going to do. “Mommy.” You whimper. “Shhh detka you can take. Be a good girl like we said.” She kisses you to distract you. Your body is being guided down on the strap as it slowly fills your ass up. Wanda swallows your sounds the further you sink down. She pulls away when you're fully seated on the other Wanda’s lap. “Fuck so fucking tight.” The other Wanda moans grinding into your ass which causes you to moan. 
Your Wanda moves and positions herself in front of you. The other Wanda leaning you back presenting your leaky abused cunt to your Wanda. She groans as the cum leaks from you but as much as she wants to taste you it will have to wait for another time. She positions her cock at your entrance slamming her cock into you in one swift motion. “Ahhhh fuck Mommy.” You cry out. The other Wanda is kissing and whispering praises in your ear as you adjust to fullness. They both wait for you to adjust before they start. Your Wanda circling your clit lightly to help your body relax more. 
Once they have given you time and they notice your hips grinding they start to slowly thrust into you. Your Wanda keeps her fingers on your clit as their paces pick up. They are now both pounding into you hard. With each thrust of their hips and filling you perfectly to the brim has you gasping for air. You're so full and the pleasure is becoming overwhelming as they stretch you to your max. They have both turned to praising you as they continue to fuck and fill you. Giving you gentle kisses all over your body helps to keep you grounded. “S-so full.” You’re able to mumble out. The women picked up their paces if that was even possible. 
You're all so sensitive already that it doesn’t take long for your orgasms to build. You're already teetering on the edge as your Wanda starts to pinch your engorged bundle of nerves. All of your moans are bouncing off the walls. Your whole body is shaking with pleasure as more tears run down your face. All that can come out of your mouth is incoherent words along with moans. “Fuck I’m going to cum.” The other Wanda says under you. You nod along as they continue to use your body. “Cum then.” Your Wanda moans above both of you. 
White hot sticky liquid fills both your holes as both Wanda’s cum hard. Your walls are able to clench around both of them as you cum harder than you ever have before. Squirting all over your Wanda’s lower abdomen while some gushes down onto the other Wanda below you. You see stars as your eyes roll back into your head. Your body goes rigid before relaxing completely between the women. They slowly fuck you through all of your orgasms before coming to a hault. 
You're so thankful that Wanda had bought the larger couch as they both rotate you on your side staying inside of you. You nuzzle into your Wanda’s neck exhaustion taking over your body. They want to give your body a chance to recover a little before pulling out completely so they both stay inside you not wanting to hurt you. They both are whispering praises into your ear gently kissing you and making sure you know that they love you and you did so good in such a vulnerable state that you are in. 
“You did so good for us, Milaya.” Your Wanda kisses your head. “Such a good girl” The other Wanda says, kissing your shoulder. Your eyes close as your body starts to get heavy between them. You want to ask questions like how long does the spell last and could it ever happen again? But your too exhausted and your throat is pretty raw from the throat fucking and all the moaning so you opt to ask later. Right now you will enjoy the comfort from the two women. They know they need to clean you up but they can see you need time to recover a bit before they can move you. So they give you some time to rest. Taking some time to admire all the marks that they left behind on your skin.
This isn’t what you expected today to come to when you stepped into that room but you are so glad that you did. Both Wanda’s thinking the same thing as they hold you closer to them. This was the best spell gone wrong that has ever happened and both of them communicating that it will happen again. 
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lecsainz · 10 months
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could you talk abt riding charles for the first time? 🤠
just ride
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: (+18) smut, reader riding, dirty talk and unprotected sex, minors dni!
authors note: I'm not sure if this is how you meant it, but I hope you like it. and the playlist this time was a mix of songs from ariana and lana (the title says a lot...)
word count: 2.6K
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Y/N entered the apartment's balcony, the warm breeze of the summer night caressing her skin as she admired the breathtaking view of Monaco's skyline. She knew Charles was on an important call with his engineer, discussing technical details of the upcoming race, but she couldn't resist the urge to tease him.
Dressed in a sheer, lacy nightgown that left little to the imagination, she walked up behind him, running her fingers lightly over his shoulder. Charles glanced at her, his eyes widening in surprise and desire as he tried to maintain his composure on the call.
Y/N whispered in his ear, her voice husky and filled with seduction, "You look so focused, my love. I thought you might need a little distraction."
Charles cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady as he responded to his engineer. "Uh, yes, we'll discuss that later… Sorry, I got…distracted for a moment." He shot Y/N a playful yet pleading look, silently begging her to continue.
She moved closer, her body pressing against his back as she gently slid herself onto his lap. Charles's breathing hitched, and his grip on the phone tightened. Y/N could feel his growing arousal beneath her, making her smile with satisfaction.
With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Y/N began to sway her hips slowly, grinding against him in a tantalizing rhythm. She trailed her fingers along his jawline, her lips brushing against his earlobe as she whispered, "I want to feel you, Charles. Right here, right now."
Charles's voice wavered slightly as he tried to maintain his professional tone. "Yes, we'll…we'll make the necessary adjustments… I understand… Just give me a moment." He struggled to concentrate on the call, his attention completely captured by the sensation of Y/N's body against his.
Y/N continued to move, her movements growing more insistent as she felt Charles's control slipping away. She nipped at his earlobe, her hot breath fanning across his neck, and whispered, "I want you, Charles. I want you to lose yourself in me."
He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "I… I'll call you back.” Unable to resist any longer, Charles ended the call abruptly, tossing his phone aside. He turned his full attention to Y/N, his eyes filled with raw desire. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." he growled, his voice laced with need.
His eyes locked with Y/N's, widening in surprise and desire as he took in her appearance.
As his hand moved to caress her cheek, he felt the delicate fabric of her nightgown and realized there was nothing beneath it. His breath hitched, and his heart raced with anticipation. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with need, "You're not wearing anything underneath."
Y/N's lips curled into a playful smile as she leaned closer, her voice low and seductive. "I wanted to surprise you, Charles. I want you to see just how much you excite me."
Charles's eyes darken with desire as he tightens his grip on Y/N's buttocks, drawing her even closer to him. The realization that she's not wearing anything beneath the nightgown sends a surge of excitement through his veins. He can't resist the temptation to tease her, to play with her desires. With a mischievous grin, he slides a finger along her slick folds, feeling her wetness coating his touch.
Y/N's desperate moan only fuels his desire further. "You're so wet, mon amour." he growls, his voice thick with arousal. Y/N's breath hitches at his words, her eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and need.
"Charles," she whispers, her voice laced with desire. "I want to ride you right here on the balcony. I want to take control and show you how much I want you."
"Oh God, Y/N." A low, guttural groan escapes Charles's lips as he nods, his eyes locked with hers. "The idea of you riding me, taking charge… To feel you riding me, your body moving against mine." he urges, his voice husky with desire.
Y/N's eyes burned with desire as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Charles's ear. Her voice was laced with a seductive plea. "Take off your boxers, Charles. I want to feel all of you."
A low groan escaped Charles's lips as he eagerly obliged, sliding his boxers down his legs, his arousal fully exposed. The cool breeze of the Monaco sea caressed their heated bodies, heightening their sensations.
They were both aware of the potential risk of being seen by visitors to the Monaco seaside, but the thrill of being exposed only heightened their arousal. They were lost in their own world, fueled by passion and the breathtaking view before them.
She positioned herself on his lap, her legs straddling him, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace. Her eyes never left his as she slowly sank down, feeling him fill her completely. A gasp escaped her lips as she adjusted to his size.
Y/N began to move, a rhythm of urgency and desire taking over. Her hips rocked back and forth, riding him with increasing speed. Charles's grip on her tightened, his hands gripping her hips as he matched her movements.
The intensity grew, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization. Each thrust brought them closer to the edge, their moans mingling in the air. Y/N could feel the tension building within her, the coil of pleasure tightening with each passing second.
Charles's eyes bore into hers, a mix of ecstasy and astonishment evident in his gaze. "Oh God." he gasped, his voice strained. "You're driving me insane. Don't stop."
With every upward motion, she quickened her pace riding him harder and faster, lost in the throes of passion.
Charles's hands traced a fiery path over her skin, his touch leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. His voice, husky and filled with desire, whispered dirty words of encouragement in her ear, igniting her passion even further.
"You're so fucking hot, Y/N." he growled, his voice dripping with lust. "I love how wet and tight you are for me. Ride me, ma belle. Show me how much you want it."
His words sent shivers down her spine, fueling her primal instincts. With renewed determination, she quickened her pace, her body moving in perfect harmony with his. Their moans mingled together, filling the room with their raw desire.
Charles's hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements, his grip firm and demanding. "That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Grind on me. Fuck me like you mean it. I can't get enough of you."
The intensity grew with each passing moment, their bodies consumed by a maddening frenzy of pleasure. The sound of their skin slapping together mixed with their breathless moans, creating a symphony of passion.
As they rode the waves of ecstasy, Y/N could feel the familiar tightening in her core, the telltale sign of her impending release. Charles sensed her nearing climax and intensified his efforts, his touch becoming more urgent and his words more fervent.
Charles's hands roamed over her body, his touch igniting her further. He whispered dirty words of encouragement, fueling her desire even more.
As Y/N straddled Charles, she could feel his hardness beneath her, pulsating with desire. She began to move, her hips grinding against him, seeking a deeper connection. With each thrust, he moaned, his voice filled with unbridled pleasure.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his voice husky. "You feel so good. Ride me harder, mon amour. Show me how much you want it."
His words fueled her desire, and she rocked her hips with more intensity, their bodies creating a rhythm that echoed through the room. As their passion intensified, Charles leaned forward, capturing one of her breasts in his mouth. His tongue swirled around her hardened nipple, and she couldn't help but let out a loud, uninhibited moan.
The sound of her pleasure only spurred him on, and he continued to lavish attention on her breasts, alternating between gentle nips and lingering sucks. As Y/N's moans grew louder, her nails instinctively dug into Charles's back, leaving a trail of marks as a testament to her ecstasy.
"Shh, mon amour," Charles whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and urgency. "We have to be quiet, remember? We're out here on the balcony where anyone could hear us."
Y/N bit her lip, trying to stifle her moans as she continued to ride him. Her voice came out in breathless whispers. "I'll be good, Charles." Y/N's eyes widened with anticipation, her voice hushed but filled with passion. "I'll be as quiet as I can, but I can't promise to hold back when you feel this good inside me."
Charles's grip tightened on her hips, his thrusts growing more urgent. "Hold on tight, cherie, and ride me harder. Show me how much you want it, how much you crave my cock."
Y/N bit her lip, her voice barely a whisper. "I can't hold back anymore, Charles. I need you to fuck me harder and deeper."
Charles reveled in the sensation of her nails raking across his skin, the mixture of pleasure and pain heightening their connection. He couldn't help but growl in response, his own pleasure reaching new heights.
"You're so fucking sexy, mon amour." he rasped, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to feel you come undone beneath me."
As the intensity of their lovemaking reached its peak, Charles felt himself on the edge of release. With each thrust, he could sense Y/N's mounting pleasure, her moans becoming more desperate and her body trembling beneath him.
"You're so tight. I'm close, mon amour. I want to come with you." he growled, his voice filled with raw desire.
Charles could feel her walls pulsating around him, signaling her imminent climax. His hand slipped between their bodies, finding her sensitive bundle of nerves. He began to rub it in firm, circular motions, matching the rhythm of their bodies.
Y/N's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as the dual sensations overwhelmed her. She gripped Charles tightly, her nails digging into his back as she teetered on the edge.
"Oh God, Charles," she gasped, her voice strained with pleasure. "Don't stop. I'm so close."
With an intensity fueled by their shared desire, Charles adjusted his angle, hitting a spot deep within her that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. His pace quickened, his grip on her waist tightening as he chased their release.
Charles's voice dripped with wickedness as he encouraged her further. "That's it, baby. Let go for me. Come all over my cock. Show me how much you want it."
Y/N's body tensed as the pleasure coiled tightly within her, her inner walls pulsating around him. She threw her head back, her moans growing louder and more urgent. And at that moment, as Charles's own release washed over him, he watched with satisfaction as Y/N surrendered to the throes of ecstasy.
As Y/N reached the peak of her pleasure, her body convulsed with waves of ecstasy. She cried out his name, her voice filled with unbridled desire. "Charles, oh God! I'm… I'm coming!"
He watched in awe as she unraveled in his arms, her body trembling with bliss. In one swift motion, Charles lifted Y/N off his lap and guided her to lie back on the sofa. He positioned himself between her legs, his gaze locked with hers as he entered her once again. The familiar heat and tightness surrounded him, and he began to move with a relentless rhythm.
Y/N moaned and clung to him, her nails digging into his back as their bodies collided in a delicious frenzy. She reveled in the feeling of being taken by him, her pleasure building rapidly once more. "Don't hold back, Charles. I want to feel every inch of you." she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of desperation and need.
He obliged, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent, his control slipping away as the intensity consumed him. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a symphony of passion and desire. The sounds of their gasps and moans mingled with the gentle breeze of the balcony, a testament to the raw intensity of their connection.
With each thrust, they inched closer to the edge, teetering on the precipice of their release. And when it finally came, it was a torrential wave crashing over them. Y/N cried out his name, her body quaking in ecstasy, while Charles groaned in satisfaction, his body pulsating with pleasure.
Y/N's body trembled with aftershocks as she slowly caught her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Charles held her close, their bodies still intertwined, as they both basked in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses along Y/N's neck and collarbone.
He chuckled softly, his voice filled with disbelief and delight. "I can't believe we just did that on the balcony," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "You have to ride me more often, mon amour. Seeing you on top of me like that… it's an image I'll never forget."
Y/N blushed, a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction washing over her. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with affection and a hint of mischief. "Well, maybe we can find some more adventurous places to explore, Charles." she teased, her voice laced with newfound confidence.
He grinned, his fingers tracing circles on her bare back. "Oh, I'm all for that, ma belle."
As they sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that their love was a flame that burned fiercely, igniting not only their bodies but also their souls. In the midst of their passion and vulnerability, they had discovered a deeper connection, an unbreakable bond that would carry them through any obstacle.
And as they gazed out at the breathtaking view of Monaco's sparkling coastline from their balcony, the sound of Charles's ringing phone interrupted the moment of bliss. He reluctantly pulled away from Y/N, reaching for his phone with a slightly exasperated sigh.
"It's Xavi." he explained, a hint of frustration in his voice.
Y/N nodded understandingly, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "Go ahead and take the call, Charles. I'll wait for you."
He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before answering the call. As he listened to his engineer's urgent voice on the other end, Y/N took the opportunity to appreciate the sight before her—Charles, half-naked and still flushed from their passionate encounter, his focus shifting between her and the conversation.
Charles's expression changed from annoyance to intrigue as he engaged in the conversation. He was visibly engrossed in the discussion, occasionally nodding or asking questions. Y/N couldn't help but admire his dedication and talent, even in the midst of their intimate moments.
After a few minutes, Charles concluded the call, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. He set his phone aside and turned his attention back to Y/N, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.
"Sorry about that, mon amour," he said, his voice husky with lingering lust. "But where were we?"
Y/N smirked, pulling him closer and trailing her fingertips along his bare chest. "I believe we were in the middle of something quite pleasurable."
Charles's eyes sparkled mischievously as he scooped Y/N up in his arms, effortlessly carrying her to their bedroom. She let out a playful squeal, her legs wrapping around his waist.
"Are you ready for round two, mon amour?" he whispered, his voice filled with anticipation.
Y/N grinned, her fingers running through his tousled hair. "Oh, I'm more than ready." she replied, her voice brimming with excitement.
And as the door closed behind them, their laughter and passionate whispers filled the air, leaving the rest of their passionate escapades to be explored and savored in the privacy of their bedroom.
4K notes · View notes
ginnsbaker · 8 months
Text
Bulletproof
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Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist
Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader
Requested by anon:
could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."
Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.
--
“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her. 
Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.
“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”
Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”
You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.
“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”
Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.
Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”
He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”
Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.
“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.
Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”
Like you, he doesn’t need to say.
You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.
Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”
The room goes quiet. 
A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue. 
You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes. 
Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.
-
The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation. 
In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.
At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.
Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.
Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.
Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you. 
You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.
Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.
You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents. 
As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold. 
You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.
But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.
Perhaps it would be easier to leave.
-
It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:
Your healing ability.
On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.
Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.
As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.
Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.
But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.
“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act. 
Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.
You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger. 
You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.
The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.
You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.
Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”
“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”
Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.
Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.
Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”
“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”
Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.
That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.
The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.
You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name. 
And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.
It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.
“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.
Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”
The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.
“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”
“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”
Was that a compliment?
You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.
Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.
-
The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.
Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”
You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”
Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.
“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”
Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.
Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”
You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.
“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”
“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”
As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.
“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters. 
Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening. 
Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?
Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.
Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”
You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”
Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.
“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.
Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.
“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.
“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”
“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”
“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.
“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”
The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes. 
Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”
“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.
“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.
You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.
The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.
In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.
You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.
You've become more than just teammates.
You've become friends.
And maybe, just maybe, something more.
3K notes · View notes
alienstardust · 6 months
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* you're making the typical me break my typical rules (sanji x f!reader)
♫ “SUCKER” HALSEY
Fic Request: Could you do a one shot with sanji,where when he joins the straw hats,reader always used to cook for them and her cooking is pretty good?
She loves to cook and bake,and she and sanji start cooking together?
(maybe some late night dancing in the Kitchen of the ship when they were baking some sweets?) - anonymous
A/N: Sanji imagine. Thank you for sending in the request! I really hoped I captured your request. I tried to make nice and sweet. <3 Feedback is appreciated. Thank you for all the reads! ♥ [Warnings: fluff, none]
+Tags: @mischiefmanaged71 @sweetheartlizzie07 @syraxnyra
You stared over at Zoro. Zoro exchanged a glance at you, shrugging his shoulders not particularly giving you a sense he had an opinion. You sucked in a breath then pushed the plate away back to the center of the table. Luffy held out his hands, wiggling his fingers, eagerly waiting for everyone’s response. Usopp reached over and took the plate, eating up the scraps left. “Okay… So… I don’t think we have much of a say in your decision, Luffy,” Nami crossed her arms finally giving Luffy the attention he was begging for. 
“He’s in! Great!” Luffy leaped up from the table and ran back to the kitchen at Baratie. You picked up your glass, throwing back the rest of the liquor. 
“Play nice.” Zoro teased finishing his beer. 
“I am the cook. Do we really need another one?” You scoffed, picking up the napkin and folding it into a decorative shape. You sat it down on the table.
The Straw Hats made a stop at the floating restaurant since they had taken a wrong turn getting to the Grand Line, and Luffy made nice with the waiter after not paying the bill. He saw what he could do when some customers were giving others a hard time and offered him a spot on the crew. He thought he was a really good fighter. 
Luffy sold the waiter his own pipe dream of becoming King of the Pirates. You weren’t in support of bringing him on board because he was an alleged chef. That was your job, your spot. He even brought a plate of food and you were taken aback by how well-plated it was, and damn it was good. You were trying to convince yourself it wasn’t. 
Luffy walked back to the table with the waiter/cook in tow. “This is Sanji. And he’ll be part of the crew!” He smiled wide. 
Sanji glanced between the crew and then met your eyes. A small smirk started to grow across his smooth lips. “Nice to make your acquaintance.” He meant it for everyone but he kept his attention on you. It made you a little nervous, you were trying to recall how exactly you looked before you stepped into the restaurant. You squirmed a little in your seat.
“Sure. I have things to do, start something. Please move,” You gestured for Usopp to slide out of the booth, then you stepped out. Sanji smiled brightly when you bumped into him, he lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles. You paused for a moment not pulling away your hand quickly. You could feel your face begin to flush. “That’s mine.” You drew your hand away, then walked out of the restaurant to the ship. You didn’t bother waiting for the rest, you needed to busy yourself.  
Immediately, you went to the vegetables and started to chop them up finely. You started the stove and lined up your spices. You could hear the crew coming back on board. Hearing Sanji’s voice made you wrinkle your nose. “Why do we need the waiter,” you muttered as you dropped the vegetables into the boiling water. 
——-
“Okay! Lads, gents, etc., etc.,” Usopp announced stretching out his arms in front of the countertop, tapping his fingertips against the wood. “We are going to have an interesting showdown here!” Luffy clapped excitedly. The crew surrounded the table in the dining area. You stood in front of your cutting board, sharpening your favorite knife. Next to you was Sanji, he remained cool and collected, carrying the stupid charm. 
He joined the crew a few weeks ago and as much as you hated to admit it, you were impressed with his recipes and the delicious flavors that filled the cabin whenever he cooked. You would offer your tips even though he never asked. You were only returning the favor since he annoyingly did the same to you. He would stand aside while you cooked up your meal, his eyes followed your moves. It made you feel something like you wanted to awe him. The feeling was annoying at times. Why did you want to show off to him? You secretly enjoyed it when you found him sauntering into the kitchen when you were preparing the food. 
“We’re going to see how quickly, speedy, you can chop up some carrots, onions, and celery for this chicken pot pie.” Usopp rubbed his hands together. You averted your eyes toward Sanji and grinned at him quickly, challenging him. “Winner will have reigning rights as top chef for the Going Merry. Okay! On your mark, get set. Go!”
You grabbed the carrots, sliced them into circles on the board. Using the flat side of your knife, you swooshed them to the side and started on the next bunch. You only glanced over at Sanji once, taking notice of how precise he was with his chopping and the pace. He didn’t seem phased by the strong scent of the onions. 
You went back to your vegetables only to hear Sanji drop his knife, chuckling softly. “Done.” 
“Oh! Sanji is the declared winner!” Usopp gestured toward Sanji and frowned at you. “Sorry, my friend. But maybe next time.” You grinned defeated and turned to Sanji 
“The better cook won today.” 
“Well, maybe. Your skills are good, could be better. Maybe some lessons?” He arched an eyebrow, popping up his shoulders slightly. You squinted at him just trying to get a read on him. He was flirtatious that was a trait you could see, so you knew what he was telling you was probably nothing too special. Right? 
“Yeah… no.” You smiled quickly and cleaned up your section. 
—-
After everyone ate, you all sat around the table to discuss the plans for the next excursion. Your mind kept fluttering back and forth, tossing in your bunk and shutting your eyes tighter in hopes that would help. You groaned when nothing was working. 
You grabbed your black notebook from underneath your pillow and went to your happy place - the kitchen. The first thing you started to do was heat up some water for tea. Then you gathered the ingredients to make something sweet - a shortcake. The family recipe was in your book. You set it down and opened it to the page, quietly reading over the ingredients. 
“Baking something helps me during sleepless nights,” a voice spoke as they entered the kitchen. You glanced up at Sanji as he cautiously took steps as if was encroaching on unwarranted territory. He wasn’t wearing his usual suit and tie getup, he was more dressed down. He had on a white muscle shirt and some loose trousers. You found yourself scanning over the outline of his muscles. The look was something he didn’t miss, he started to wear his charming grin the closer he got to you. 
“It helps calm me.” You nodded as you made yourself some tea. “Would you like some?” You held up the extra mug bumping into his chest not realizing exactly how close he was. You swallowed, pushing back your shoulders, and took a breath. You told yourself to not stare.
“I’ll prepare it myself.” He smiled kindly at you while taking the mug from you. He began to pour himself some tea, preparing it the way he liked it. “Why don’t you like me?” He asked casually. 
You sliced up some strawberries and snorted a laugh playing it cool. You turned your head to exchange a quick glance at him. He sipped his tea as he watched you awaiting your response. You could breathe in his musk scent feeling a nervous tickle inside your belly. “What? Does it bother you that I’m just not swooned by you?” You arched an eyebrow. 
Sanji took another sip of tea and chuckled at your answer. “I think you are impressed with what I can do, and dare I say intimated by it?” You rolled your eyes picking up your own mug to take a sip.  
“You’re the better cook, Sanji. You showed that today. Let it go.” You twitched your lip into a lopsided smile and went back to the strawberries. 
“Today was fun. I liked how carefully you sliced things up. Just like your strawberries.” He snatched a piece of fruit and popped it into his mouth. “I was always told cooking is a vulnerable piece of you. The dish you put out there is a part of you, you are opening to criticism. I’m always careful to present the best.” 
You put a knife down and slid it over to him. “Cut. Enough talking.” 
The tips of his mouth crinkled as he smiled, turning to pick it up and began slicing. He followed you. The two of you prepared in silence, you started the batter for the cake. 
“My grandmother taught me to cook.” You finally spoke. “That.” You pointed to the book. “Is hers. Everything she learned, and pieces of her life are in that book. She was also a chef on a pirate ship.” You smiled fondly at the memory of your grandmother that flashed in your mind. “One of the best.” 
You stopped mid-stir to look at Sanji. “Why did you join the crew? It seemed you had a good life in that restaurant.” 
Sanji pursed his lips, turning his gaze down at his hands as he was considering how to answer. Then, he locked eyes with yours. “I want to find the All Blue. Have you heard of it?” You raised your eyebrows a little, slowly nodding your head. Then, you put your knife down, quickly wiped your hands on your shirt, and moved around Sanji to pick up your notebook. “What?” 
Sanji followed you, standing closer to you as you flipped through the pages of your notebook. Your fingers flicked through the pages careful not to tear them, but fast enough so you could get through it. Then, you stopped on a page tapping your finger on the center. “My grandmother. She wrote about it. I never thought anything of it, I mean it's like a fairy tale. But she even sketched images of what people said it looked like.” You slid the notebook over to Sanji and watched him read over the pages, a small smile was growing on his lips as he digested what your grandmother wrote. “I’ll help you.” 
“What?” Sanji was skeptical of your statement while putting down the notebook gently. “You’ll help find the All Blue?” 
“Yeah. It meant something to her, and it means a lot to you. And we’re a crew now…so…,” You exhaled, shrugging your shoulders as if it should’ve been common sense. “We’ll search for it.” You smiled at him. Sanji leaned in and kissed your cheek softly. 
“Thank you.” His words were quiet, you could feel his mouth move against your skin when he spoke. 
“Mhm. Now, we should finish the cake.” 
Sanji and you started to get the cake together. You tried not to argue with him when he did something differently. He seemed to bite his tongue when you didn’t take his advice. It took longer than usual to get the cake into the oven, but you breathed happily when it was finally in there. Sanji cleaned off his hands with the rag, then tossed it over at you. 
“Thanks.” You took the rag to wipe your hands before you started cleaning up the counter. Sanji casually reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. You narrowed your eyes at him scrutinizing his next move. He only smiled lazily and gently pulled you to him taking your hands into his. He started humming a tune that you recognized, it was one of your favorite songs. You remember playing the record a dozen of times, even trying to learn it yourself.
He twirled you once, then took a step forward and you took one back. “I can’t sing…so don’t ask me,” he laughed nervously. He only continued to hum, you joined in keeping up the beat. You mumbled the words avoiding eye contact with him keeping your eyes down at your feet. The two danced slowly in the kitchen, breathing in the savoriness of the cake baking.
“So, Sanji actually isn’t good at something?” You teased as you swayed with him. He gently pressed your body against his, nuzzling against the crook of your neck. You closed your eyes allowing yourself to enjoy the closeness of him. Your pulse sped up as you two moved, slowly trying not to step on each other’s feet. He turned pressing his forehead against yours. 
“I think I like you.” He spoke lowly and gave you a quick spin. 
“Oh?” 
“Yes. I suppose I could treat you to a nice dinner, something sweet. Your favorite.” He winked at you. You let out a shaky laugh as you squeezed his hand, then allowed him to pull you into him again. He lifted up your hand and kissed your knuckles like he did the day you first met. 
“That’s mine.” You murmured. 
“Apologies.” He responded. 
You bit down on you lip and then took a chance - you leaned in and kissed him softly. His lips were soft, loving. He responded to your kiss and moved his lips against yours. His hand trailed over your hips, giving you a gentle squeeze. You smiled against his lips. 
“It may be too bold of me to say this. So I won’t call this mine … yet.” He gently, teasingly dragged his thumb up over your lips. The light touch made your body pulse with heat. You sucked in a breath keeping your eyes on him. 
You patted his chest and nodded trying to clear your head. “Good talk.” You stepped around him to check on your cake. 
*** Please give my fiction blog (@alienstardustwrites ) a follow. Thank you! <3
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5oh5 · 28 days
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🌿 9.first frost with joel please <3
hi hi anon, i loved this request so i'm kicking off the milestone requests with it. hope you enjoy! x
first frost
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pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader summary: joel comes home to find you just how he likes you. wc: 1.1k (let's pretend this was 1k words or fewer like I said it'd be) tags: angst, smut [masturbation (f), fingering (f!receiving), unprotected piv, blink and you'll miss the orgasm denial, cum eating], daddy kink (oh no it's happening), sad boy joel, use of religious imagery, one long metaphor a/n: out of my writing dry spell! can't wait to keep going on all of these requests, thank you to everyone who submitted something!! x liv's 1k fairy circle
1k request masterlist | main masterlist | read on AO3 | @5oh5-notifs for fic notifs!
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The weather is getting colder, and Joel feels strangled by it. The warm air is slipping between his fingers, the comforting breeze turning to ice across his cheeks and threading through his hair. He knows that in a few short weeks he’ll be out here, miserable, ice forming in his beard and his eyelashes, blinking back the tears that form to keep his eyes from drying in the bitter wind. Winter arrives before he’s ready every year in Jackson, the frost forming before he can prepare himself to see it.
The warmth of summer always makes something like hope return to the corners of his mind, dusting out the cobwebs and turning on the lights. In the summer it’s easier to tell himself lies, easier to believe that maybe someday she’ll forgive him. When the days are long and the sun eases low into the sky well into the evening, it’s easier to forget. In the winter, in the cold and dark, it’s easier to drown.
There is one thing he knows will be waiting for him, warm and wet and perfect despite the cold air that dries out his hands and cracks the skin over his knuckles. When he’s out on horseback, he thinks only of you and the warmth of your body that will surround him when he comes home. He’s surprised that it hasn’t gotten him killed yet, the way the memory of your moans and the softness of your skin dulls his senses and slows his reactions. He doesn’t deserve you, of that he’s sure, but fuck if he doesn’t revel in the sweet sin of it – of having something he shouldn’t. He figures he’ll answer for his crimes eventually, perhaps at the gates of Hell, murmuring something about how he always knew you were too sweet for him, too gentle, too soft amidst the fucked up apocalyptic nightmare that ravishes everything and everyone. Sorry sir, I couldn’t help it. Maybe God’ll take pity on him, and maybe he won’t. It doesn’t really matter anymore. Sometimes he forgets there was anything other than this, that there was a life before. A normal life. The only glimpses he gets of that now are when he’s buried between your thighs, when the wasteland fades to a blur and the voices go silent, replaced only by your panting breaths and soft little moans.
When he kicks off his muddy boots at the door, they’re already less muddy than usual, the earth starting to harden below them. He hears you before he sees you. He’d know the hitch in your breath anywhere, know the little whimpers that filter through the cracked door even in his sleep. Even in death, he thinks.
You hear the click of the door, listen as his boots come up the stairs. Your mind is a little hazy, teetering on the edge of oblivion. You’re just where he likes you, and you always want to be exactly what he wants. Your fingers are buried in your cunt, desire dripping around your knuckles and smeared across your thighs. You don’t quiet your breaths or fight to control them, knowing that he’ll be here in a matter of seconds to give you exactly what you want.
When he does, his voice is graveled, low and syrupy, and you’re so close already you feel you could fall apart just from the sound of it.
“What’s all this then, angel?” he coos, even though he knows the answer. He just likes to hear you say it. It softens him, a little more each time. “You haven’t come yet, have you?”
Like the thaw of spring your voice melts the freeze that permeates his bones, the one that’s settled, deep and destructive, since the day he lost everything. When he leaves again, leaves the warmth of this house and of your body he knows the frost will return, the ache will spread low in his chest until he finds his way back into you. “No, daddy. Waiting for you.” Innocent, sweet, everything that shouldn’t be. Everything he’s fucked up too many times to deserve.
“Good girl.” Good girl, good girl. Maybe the only good thing left in the world.
Within seconds his fingers replace yours, his flannel still stretched across his shoulders and biceps straining at the worn fabric as he rocks his palm into your clit and his fingers hammer relentlessly into your g-spot, but you’re falling apart before he can even find a rhythm. You’re begging him, tears running down your cheeks, and he thinks of the spring’s rain and the fall’s frost, of all the exquisite wonders that still remain even in this circle of damnation to which the world has found itself abandoned. “You can come, little one.”
What’s the use in depriving himself of one of those exquisite wonders? There are so few left now.
He barely gets himself out of his jeans before he’s sinking into you, the rough denim of the fabric scratching against the skin of your inner thighs, the zipper of his jeans dragging through the coarse hair of your mound. You’re writhing beneath him, cunt squeezing the life out of him, and he happily buries everything he’s ever felt as deep inside of your body as he can possibly reach.
You come again in mere moments, and he realizes he hasn’t asked how long you’d been playing with yourself before he got back. He loves the thought of you toying with that pretty pussy that belongs to him, aching and wanting and waiting. He loves being the one to do it even more. You’re chanting his name like it’s the only thing you can remember, and he hopes you’ll never forget. He stands no chance, his body finally relaxing and mind turning so crystal clear he feels for a moment like nothing bad has ever happened. When he spills himself across your belly, you moan even louder. “Daddy, please, I need it, please.”
He kisses down your jaw, tracing the thick vein in your neck with his tongue before smearing kisses down your sternum until his mouth meets his own mess. With a swipe of his tongue, he collects it, before feeding it back to you with a lick into your mouth that he thinks should embarrass him, but the groan that you feed back to him proves that it never will. He doesn’t register the sound that comes out of his own throat.
When Joel drifts off, the skin of his chest sticking to the skin of your back, he knows he’ll wake up to a glittering world of white that melts in the warmth of the morning sun. Winter doesn’t yet have its talons around Jackson, and grief hasn’t quite gotten it’s claws around Joel either.
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thank you for reading! x
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thecampjuicebox · 5 months
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Was wondering if you could do one with Halsin or Astarion (or Gale👀) where Tav/reader has never let him finish inside them before and it’s something he reallyyyy wants to do so he spends a long time getting Tav all worked up (maybe even days saying he’s too busy to do anything right now) and then keeps bringing them to the edge before telling them what he wants and saying he’ll let Tav finish if they beg for him to finish inside of them
AHHHHHH OKAY WAIT all three would work so perfectly but I feel like this is especially Halsin coded so ding ding ding, he's the winner today. This is going to be a little out of order canonically because I have a very specific time period in mind for this to go down. HERE WE GO!
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Just as nature intended.
Pairing: Tav (f) x Halsin (m)
POV: 2nd person (Reader is Tav)
Rating: 18+, Minors DNI
Warings: SMUT, edging, piv sex, breeding kink, fluff, oral (f receiving), lots of scratching (with some blood), finishing inside, game spoilers
Camp is especially quiet tonight. Gentle waves lap at the short rock ledge, sea mist floating through the air and invading your nostrils with the salty scent. You sigh and relax your tired bones into the cracked stone. The barely audible crackle of the campfire lulls your shot nerves and you rub your temples, the tadpole wriggling just behind your eyes. To put put it plainly, you're exhausted. The shadow curse has really taken it out of you and your group today, evident by the lack of usual banter and comradery that camp often bustles with at the end of each rough day. Instead, everyone has retired to their tents immediately after dinner. You tap your fingers against the rock in a random pattern, doing anything to distract you from the pounding headache in your skull. Carefully pushing yourself from the ground, you move to retrieve your bedroll, preparing to settle in for the night. Whether or not sleep finds you is up to the tadpole at this point.
An idea works it's way into your thoughts and you pause your busy hands for a moment. You know a perfect way to relieve the thundering between your ears. Your lover, Halsin. His large hands and incredible sex drive often offer you solace when nothing else will. Even if he declines your offer for sex tonight, you're perfectly happy to curl up in his arms and search for sleep that way, although you'd much prefer the former option. You plop your bedroll down next to the fire and start towards where he's set up, the familiar scent of oak and basil wafting in your direction from the narrow opening in his tent and you salivate.
"Is that you, my heart?"
His words trickle like honey into your ears and your core burns like the fires of Avernus. You reach a trembling hand out and move the right tent flap to the side, ducking into his spacious living quarters. Halsin is sat cross legged on his bedroll, careful hands whittling a comically small piece of wood, the shape of a duck barely visible past his large fingers. He looks so handsome. Caramel hair tied back in a messy half up, half down bun. Pale green eyes carefully scan the small piece of wood that his knife works at, chipping away little chunks here and there. You giggle quietly to yourself, chewing on the middle knuckle of your index finger to stifle the noise, taking care to not startle him while he works. His attention shifts to you and he immediately sets his work down, muscular arms spreading wide to welcome you into his warm embrace. You oblige and slink into his arms. Your face instinctively nuzzles into the crook of his neck, inhaling his musk. He tightens his grip on you with one arm, using the other to adjust your seating position until you're straddling his muscular thighs. You grin, testing the waters of tonight's potential plans, nipping gently at the side of his neck. He groans, both hands reaching down to grasp your plush ass. "Hmph.."
"Hello, my love."
You lift your head to bite the pointy tip of Halsin's ear, earning a grunt into your perked up ears. A sweet sigh escapes his lungs.
"Not tonight.. My mind is elsewhere. I'm afraid I cannot please you the way you and I both desire. I'm sorry.."
Your lips flatten into a frown and you nod. "Alright." Kicking yourself for even thinking now was a good time, you carefully move to his side, throbbing temple resting against his firm bicep. His eyes soften at your quickness to pull away.
"What's wrong?"
You groan and mumble a soft "headache", closing your eyes to soothe the new light sensitivity. Halsin nods and leans to blow out the candles lit in a row next to him, arms snaking around you, guiding you onto your side with him. He runs his fingers through your soft hair and gently scrunches the hair in random spots on your scalp to relieve pressure. You sigh contently, allowing your lids to flutter.
...
It's been about a week of begging Halsin for release, being disappointingly turned down every time and your core aches from the moment you wake up, to the moment you lie your head on your bedroll at night. It's very unlike him to turn away moments of pleasure with you, especially after he confessed his feelings during the Teifling party. He was very open with his intentions and it made your head spin. He took you that very night. Large hands grabbing and prodding and begging for you, touching every inch of your willing body. Sex with Halsin is euphoric, to be blunt. Otherworldly. With Halsin's age and experience taken into consideration, it's no wonder. His words still ring in your ears every day.
"I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now. I want more than to fight at your side, or sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine."
You lie in your bedroll, the thin veil of sleep still shrouding your tired eyes, but you're trapped in a dream. It's early morning, the rest of the camp still quiet, little snores breaking the dewy silence. Astarion tip toes past you, watching your body writhe in your sleep, clearly dreaming of something dangerous. He smirks and nudges you with his foot. You sit up in a panic, chest heaving, sweat beading up on your forehead and you shoot a look of surprise at Astarion. The vampire crosses his arms over his chest.
"Dreaming of me again, pet?"
"Oh, fuck off. You wish."
You scoff, shooing the man away with the back of your hand, both of your hands coming up to smooth your sweaty hair back and you groan. You quickly pull your nightgown over your knees, shielding yourself from the vampire's prying gaze. Astarion saunters off with a giggle. The small commotion stirs Halsin from his tent and he waves a soft "G'morning" to Astarion, the vampire returning the gesture with a similar wave. You squeeze your thighs together, noticing a very familiar warmth between them. Fuck. You're soaked, night garments basically ruined from the rather intense dream you had. Reaching down, you swipe the slick from your inner thigh and lift your hand up to inspect, the clear substance stretching into thin ropes between your fingers. You grin, not at all noticing your lover standing behind you now, pupils blown wide. He huffs and your bones nearly eject from the skin and muscles that hold them inside. "Sh-Shit." Halsin reaches down and grabs your arm, hoisting you up from your bedroll effortlessly.
"My tent. Immediately."
His tone is deep and hoarse with arousal. You obey and follow the elf to his tent, yelping when he throws you to the bedroll like a ragdoll. You love when he's rough with you. Primal need aches in your belly. You spread your legs for him while he clumsily fumbles with the clasps on the tent flaps. Eventually giving up, he turns to you, mouth salivating at the sight of you so open for him. So ready. He shakes his head, palming at his already erect cock through his leggings.
"Undress for me."
You nod, making a show of sliding your nightgown up and over your head, tossing it beside you, your absolutely soaked underwear coming next. You hook your thumbs into the soiled fabric and tug downwards, painfully slow. The elf grunts in approval, eyebrows knitting together. Once the fabric is at your knees, you slide one leg out, the other flicking the underwear into the air and towards Halsin. He catches them and quickly presses them to his nose, inhaling deeply. You beckon him closer with a slow curl of your index finger, a lust filled grin thinning your otherwise full lips. The air in the tent is warm, the scent of your heat getting Halsin absolutely drunk. He stumbles forward, collapsing overtop of you, large frame pressing you into his bedroll as he aggressively grinds his throbbing cock into your naked mound, desperate for any kind of friction. You wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, closing the gap.
"Halsin p-please.."
His grinding halts, body sliding down yours. You whine at the loss of friction and grab for his hair, shoulders, ears, whatever you can get your hands on to pull him back to you, desperate to feel him against you again. He nuzzles his nose into your soaked cunt, breathing you in, hands sliding to your inner thighs to firmly press them apart to anchor you in place. Your hips buck upwards into the tip of his nose, finding a moment of friction against your deprived clit. He exhales heavy against your slit, his hot breath coasting over your wet skin. Wiggling desperately beneath him, your hands fly down to his hair and he chuckles.
"Oak Father preserve me.. You'll be my undoing."
A quick flick of the tip of his tongue ignites a flame in your core that you cannot control, fire burning hotter and hotter up your spine. Grasping fingers tug and yank at his caramel locks and he grunts against your cunt, the vibrations only assisting in your molten hot pleasure. You burn as hot as Karlach's engine heart. Your climax builds and you yell into the early morning air, teetering on the very edge of absolute bliss. Then the feeling stops. Halsin pulls away, smirking up at you. You kick your legs in frustration and push your hips up towards his face, clit searching for his tongue.
"No, please! PLEASE!"
Your fire dulls to embers and you whine down at your lover, head lifted just enough to meet his eyes. He waits there. Breathing slowly. Each huff of air fans out over your begging cunt. Your eyes well up with tears at the lack of touch. Halsin hushes you sweetly, lips wrapping themselves around your clit once more. He laps at you in slow, painfully slow motions, his head bobbing slightly with the movements of his tongue. The aching builds again and you flex your stomach muscles, walls clenching tightly around the emptiness. The agonizing emptiness. Your sharp nails dig into his shoulders and he groans loudly into your folds. Teeth scrape over your clit, your hips bucking upwards quickly in response and you cry out. "Gods!" Halsin grins and moves his hands under your ass, pushing you up roughly against his tongue as we works you to the edge once more, listening for your change in moans before he pulls away again. You sob. Tears stream freely down your cheeks, back arching up off of the bedroll beneath you and you babble incoherently.
He repeats this process until you're absolutely broken, begging, screaming for him to give you what you so desperately crave. Release. You're positive your other companions are awake now, eating breakfast around the fire to the sounds of Halsin destroying you. The thought definitely arouses you further. He stands over your writhing body and kicks off his leggings, angry and erect cock springing forward. A thin rope of precum drips onto your thigh and you mewl. He bends over to grab your hips, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, nails digging into the same spot on his shoulder before. Halsin hisses. You grin and try to sneakily lower yourself onto his cock, Halsin catching on quickly. He tuts.
"Patience. I want to savor you for as long as I can."
His lips crash to yours, tongue begging for entrance, the subtle taste of your cunt lingering in his mouth. You accept his advance, wrestling your needy tongue with his, a mesh of wet sounds filling the tent. Without warning, he lowers you onto his cock. You moan loudly into his mouth and he follows suit at the grip your cunt has on him. He breaks the kiss to mumble under his breath.
"By the nine hells, you're tight. This is going to be harder than I thought."
Your hands move down his back, nails dragging behind them, slicing long bloody marks into his tan flesh. He throws his head back, bottoming out inside of you before lifting you all the way off of him once more, tip popping out of you with an audible squelch. You keen at the emptiness. Slick drips down beneath you, creating a puddle on the bedroll. Halsin slides in again, then out, then in, teasing your insides. You growl in frustration.
"Fuck me, gods damn it!"
Tears sting in your eyes from the way he's toying with you. You can't take it anymore. Your entire body burns. Aches. Needs.
"I will, my heart. And I'm going to fill you to the brim once I'm done. Only then, can you cum."
Your breath catches in your throat. Halsin had asked to cum inside of you before. And you declined every single time. The idea of potentially carrying a child terrified you. He often reminded you of the resident cleric in your camp, had the need for her become necessary. Now.. Now you're intrigued. You quirk an eyebrow at him and nod slowly, teeth catching your bottom lip. You chew the skin there nervously before settling on a decision. You craved Halsin. Needed every inch of him inside of you. You agree.
"O-Okay.. Just please.."
Halsin slides in before you can finish speaking, the tip of his weeping cock slamming into your soft cervix. You cry out loudly, head falling back, jaw falling open. Your eyes cross, your fingers and toes go numb, you're floating now. Black spots speckle your vision as Halsin aggressively ruts up into you. Your walls flutter around him and he chokes on his breath, hips struggling to keep a consistent rhythm. He nears his end, and you're not far behind. He curses under his breath, grip on you impossibly tight, the indents his fingers leaving on your thighs and ass sure to bruise later. You cry his name into the air of the now steamy tent, the shuffling noises of the rest of the camp making you painfully aware of just how loud you're being. They definitely hear you. Halsin encourages your loudness, nails digging into the flesh of your ass roughly as he continues his thrusting, your entire body bouncing in his arms.
"Gods, I'm close. Beg for it. Beg for me to fill you, just as nature intended."
You pull yourself closer to him, torsos melding into one. Leaning close to his ear you let out a deliciously low moan, tongue working your way along his earlobe.
"Cum inside of me, Halsin. I want you to fill me up. Please.."
Halsin reaches a hand between the two of you, relying on your grip on him to hold you up and his fingers find your deprived clit, rubbing in furious circles. He thrusts one final time. Hot ropes of cum spew inside of you, the large elf grunting in pure ecstasy. He works your clit still, your climax very suddenly slamming into you and you scream his name. Your walls tighten around his softening cock and he slides out of you. You ride the waves, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as you come undone. He holds you for a moment, cooing into your ear about how well you did for him, how much he loves you, how proud of you he is. You mewl and press tired kisses to his chest and shoulders, asking to be put down. He sets you on your feet and you squirm at the mixture of his cum and yours dripping down your inner thigh, legs barely able to hold you upright. You giggle.
"I need to bathe.. You've ruined me."
Halsin chuckles and pulls his leggings back on, reaching down to retrieve your nightgown and he hands it to you. You slide it on carefully, turning to catch Halsin taking another deep inhale of your underwear. You shake your head and he smirks in your direction, tucking the fabric under his pillow. "I'll be keeping these." He slides his hand into yours and leads you out of his tent, the rest of your companions snapping their attention to the two of you as they're finishing breakfast. Your face turns a deep shade of red and you lower your head in embarrassment. Yeah, they heard you. Astarion stands, moving behind Gale, placing his hands on Gale's hips and rutting playfully into his behind.
"Oh gods, Halsin! Please Halsin! I'm so close Halsin!"
Astarion mocks your loud moans, squeezing his eyes closed tightly as he pretends to cum. Gale rolls his eyes and shoves the vampire backwards, smoothing the back of his now crumpled robe down. Karlach and Shadowheart throw their heads back and laugh, Wyll shakes his head and sips his tea, blinking through the steam. You scurry out of sight of everyone, hand covering your face to somehow shield you from their taunts. Halsin slaps a hand onto Astarion's shoulder, leaning in to his ear, the smell of you still evident on his breath.
"Wishing she'd cry out for you like that, blood sucker?"
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dear-bunnyboo · 5 months
Note
can I request a Joe x Model!reader where they are secretly dating and she will be walking at the VS Fashion show and since they are a secret, Joe is watching the show live at home with his friends and they are teasing him 💕
it would be such a cute idea!!
more Joey B one shot request for you cuties!! (this is mainly Joe's pov!) you can also continue sending me request if you guys want to, my request box is always open 🤍
𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joe Burrow x Model!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your secret boyfriend watches you as you walk the biggest runway of your life.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, cursing, teasing, tension?, nerves, secret relationship
𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Joe's leg was bouncing up and down, seemingly his leg had a mind of its own— Joe looked fine on the outside, his calm and stoic demeanor was a normal look on him. However, to people who actually knew him in a personal level would know how nervous the quarterback was— plus his leg bouncing up and down kinda gives it away.
It was a crisp evening, and Joe was at home with his closest friends; Ja'Maar, Tee, Tyler, and Sam who were all surrounding him on the couch as they loudly conversed among themselves. As Joe sits with his closest friends in the dimly lit living room, He can hardly contain his excitement— Joe invited his closest friends over for the night not just to hang out and as much as he enjoyed their hang outs this was something entirely different. They were all gathered to support you who they have grown close to from dating Joe.
The moment Joe's been eagerly waiting for is about to unfold— the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, a glittering spectacle, is the platform for you, Joe's secret girlfriend, the woman who has captured his heart. Joe can feel the nerves dancing in his stomach as he anticipated the start of the iconic runway.
The quarterback does not have a lot of knowledge when it comes to runway or modeling but after meeting you, he had learned the different terms and technicalities— he has also learned how important walking this runway is for a model's career. This was not your first time walking the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show but it was the first time you'll be walking with Joe watching, now as your boyfriend.
You and Joe have been dating for almost a year now— a year you two managed to keep your relationship under wraps from the public eye. Joe being the star quarterback of the Bengals and you being one of the most coveted supermodels in that field— people are expected to talk. So when you two finally made it official, you decided that it was better for the meantime to keep your relationship just between the two of you— well, except for a few exceptions; that being both your families and closest friends.
The same friends who are staring at the TV in front of them while they teasingly nudged Joe, as the TV projected a glittery pink display;
𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓥𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓪’𝓼 𝓢𝓮𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓽 𝓕𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓢𝓱𝓸𝔀
Written on the screen as a countdown started playing below it, showcasing that there was only three minutes until the shows begins.
Despite his nerves, Joe couldn't help but let out a grin form his face as they continued tease him. As the countdown reaches sixty seconds, his friends took it upon themselves to start counting down— they were now on their feet, counting down the numbers on the top of their lungs as if it was New Years while they teasingly circled around Joe like a bunch of idiots as he would put it in his head.
"3! 2!.. 1!"
A hush fell within them as the once pink glittery display disappeared, moving onto the iconic opening introduction that showcased the glittery runway where a bunch of people were surrounding; from actors, actresses, and the likes.
Joe couldn't help but feel envious of them— he wanted to be there physically with you and watch but his circumstances hinders him from doing so... next year, he swears silently to himself in his head.
As they all finally settled in back on the couch in front of the TV, Joe couldn't help but feel a mixture of pride, anxiety, and a strange blend of vulnerability. His friends were his confidants, the ones who'd been with him since the start of this incredible journey in the NFL. But now, they were all here with him supporting his girl.
A loud bang of music started playing, Bruno Mars walked out greeting the audience as his song 24K Magic started playing— this instantly made his friends jump up to their feet as they bopped and danced to the beat. As the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show began and the first models graced the runway, Joe watched with bated breath. The anticipation was palpable, and he couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions. His girlfriend, the woman he cherished above all, was among the models preparing to walk. Joe knew she was out there, and the pride he felt was overwhelming.
Joe, however, tried to remain composed on his seat, silently sipping on his drink on hand as he bopped his head up and down to the beat, the models started walking out one by one— walking to the beat as Ja'Maar started praising each and every one of them.
"God Damn!" he playfully melted on the spot as he grabbed his chest earning a chorus of laughs from them including Joe who shook his head at his friends shenanigans.
The show continued, and the atmosphere in the room was charged with anticipation— they were all waiting for you to come out. The models sashayed down the runway, and with each passing moment, the teasing from his friends intensified. They now started to chant your name inches from his face as Joe let them, his eyes solely on the screen waiting for you to walk out.
And once you did— pandemonium.
As you stepped out, a shimmering vision of grace and beauty, Joe couldn't help but gasp. You were breathtaking, you walked out wearing a red lingerie partnered with huge red wings that you wore with pride. You were radiant and confident, walked out sparkling under the runway lights. You were breathtaking, an ethereal presence, and his friends gasped in awe. The angel wings adorning you like a celestial being. Your radiant smile and confident stride captivated everyone, just as they had captivated Joe from the very beginning.
"Joey B!" Sam cheered while nudging him with his shoulders.
“Damn, Joe!” Tee hollered to himself,l not long before winking at the quarterback.
Joe remained aghast as he gawked at your figure strutting down the runway with a flirty look on your face— enjoying your time on camera. You were amazing, a natural at what you do. You had the most beautiful smile on your face that made Joe feel like melting on the spot— the quarterback was so focused on you that his friends teasing remarks sounded like white noise to him. All his senses were solely focused on you and only you— he was immensely proud of his girl.
A mixture of pride and awe washed over him as you glided down the runway. Your elegance and poise were unmatched, and you held the audience, and him, in the palm of your hand. It was a moment of profound beauty, watching the woman he loved shine on a iconic stage.
Joe's heart swelled with affection, and for a brief moment, the world disappeared. It was just him and you, connected through a screen, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with love and admiration. Joe applauded and cheered along with the audience and his friends as your walk concluded, Joe celebrated with pride and joy. You were extraordinary, and he was grateful to share in this moment of your incredible success.
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dividers: @cafekitsune
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @jackkyhughes @h0e4fictionalme-n @queenmendes @rd14 @scoobydoopoo @estapa94 @karmasabitchybitch @literaturelustrr @toterry @fangirl-madz @atticusismybae @stargaryenx @haydee5010 @porter113 @ryiamarie @starrgir1 @flwries @slafgoalskybaby @unsaidjaelinrose @in-my-body-bag @cixrosie @siutforjjmaybank @youn-jo @nobystanderz @bb-swift @buckystwilight @kidrauhlakaperf @kkrenae @catswag22 @hustler-sinner @asparklysoul @kaydesssssssss @97bngchn @dunningz @whiteleoqueen @austinswhitewolf @wickedfun9
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!
: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡
-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ
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sophswritingthings · 4 months
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what if a mizu x fem reader who’s her childhood crush? fem reader is like master eiji’s granddaughter or a child who was raised by him/visits him often. mizu sees her around often as a child and falls for her. years later, reader saves mizu and is like “miss me?” and Mizu’s first instinct is to tackle them into a tight hug
pairing: mixu x fem!childhoodcrush!reader
warning(s): the usual, y'know, swearing
a/n: I know I have others who put in a request before this, but I HAVE TO INDULGE RQ THEN I'LL GET BACK TO IT. this is so cute anon
summary: mizu hadn't grown up around people; she wasn't ever allowed outside. that was until she found the sword father, and stayed with him. she meets you, a pretty young girl her age, who happens to be his granddaughter. she falls for you--and years later--when she sees you again.. all of those feelings begin to resurface.
word count: 950 words / 5,010 characters
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mizu stopped in her tracks, holding a large pair of long iron tongs in her small hands. she saw you, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. a pretty young lady, about her age.
what would a girl such as yourself want to do with sword father?
she cleared her throat.
"hello," you murmur to her. you'd never seen her before; and those eyes... blue as the water. "who is this.. grandfather?"
you turn to your grandfather. he holds up a hand, gesturing for you to silence. he than gestures for mizu to hand him the tongs, in which, she does.
your grandfather doesn't answer you, so you take to a different approach. just ask her directly.
"who are you?" you murmur, "and what is your name?"
she clears her throat again, coughing a little before she spoke. so awkward, and for what?
"mizu," she replied rather quietly. “I-I’m.. staying here. with your um, grandfather.”
you chuckle at her awkward tone. you smile at her, offering your hand for her to shake. you were a little taller than her.
she grabbed your hand, shaking it softly.
from then on; you had visited every so often, when your mother would allow it. you two got along like two peas in a pod; you were best friends.
and every time mizu saw you, she swore you got more beautiful.
that was until she had gone. one day when you had come to visit; the girl had disappeared into the wind. your grandfather had told you that she had disappeared on a quest.
and you never saw her again.
that was until now.
you were settled outside your home, knitting and watching the people go by along the cobbled streets.
someone of… interest, caught your eye.
the minute you saw them; you knew exactly who it was.
mizu.
your first instinct was to call out to her; but it seemed that wasn’t exactly possible right now. she was being chased, a sword attached to her hip.
you couldn’t just sit here, right? no, you couldn’t. you leapt to your feet, throwing yourself between the now seemingly samurai mizu, and the one chasing her.
“leave them go,” you hiss.
“move, girl,” he grumbles back, looking up at mizu than down at you. “he’s killed half my men!”
“and I’m sure he had a good reason to,” you glance at mizu over your shoulder, smiling softly. “head off and leave us be now. whatever business you have to settle with him, you can settle in a honorable matter like men.”
the man groaned, glaring at mizu as he stomped off.
you turned to mizu with a bright, bright smile.
“miss me?”
you giggle, gazing up at her. god she'd gotten tall; you used to be taller than her, now she was probably a foot taller than you!
she says nothing.
a gentle smile spreads across her lips, and she tackles you into a tight hug.
you laugh, rolling onto the snowy cobblestone ground with the woman. your blushing a little, seeing as she’s now sitting on top of you, gazing up at her.
“I suppose you did, than!” you laugh.
she sits you up, nuzzling into your neck.
“I did. I really did.”
you were beautiful as ever. maybe even more beautiful than the last she had seen of you. a proper woman, one of she was not, but that didn’t matter. she was happy to see you after all this time. and you had saved her, no less.
“so.. what are you up to, now?” you gesture her up and down, “a samurai, are you? I thought you would be married by now..”
that made her flinch, seeing as she was once married, and the son of a bitch turned her in. and she may or may not have killed him.
she wasn’t going to tell you that, though, because you'd certainly call her stupid if she did.
her sights had changed, certainly.
“I am a samurai, yes,” she replied, glancing away.
“and what brings you back around here, hm?” you annunciate the hm, smiling as she helps you to your feet, holding her hat under her arm.
“a quest. my vow.”
her vow. yes, you thought she'd told you about that.
“I didn’t think you would still live here.” she replies. a woman as beautiful as you had to be married off, right?
“I am waiting for my father to find me a match,” you roll your eyes. “not that I want him to.”
she cocked her head. so you weren’t married. and for some reason, now she was blushing, thoughts swarming her mind.
maybe she could be that match—
no. mizu, no.
you wouldn’t think of it. you looked at her as a friend, a childhood friend you hadn’t seen in years.
“under.. understood,” she whispers.
if you were being honest with yourself, you'd always had a little crush on mizu. and looking at her now, the strength she simply admitted from her, those good looks. those eyes.
your father would never allow it. but who cared what he wanted?
“are you going to visit? eiji, I mean.” you murmur. “I-I could accompany you, if you are.”
“ah, right—“ she stops herself as she hears you offer to come with her, “you could if you want to.”
“yes. yes, I’d like that.” you nod, beginning to walk side by side with her. you gently brushed her hand, giving her a small smile.
it made her heart pound in her damn chest. it told her something, maybe you wanted to explore this. you had obviously noticed it on her face.
she clasped your hand as you walked.
she wanted to explore it, too.
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a/n: mizu and a childhood crush is always my favorite <333
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proxima-writes · 11 months
Note
Can you write something where Joel is trying not to fuck you (maybe because of your age or something), and then he caves out of pure horniness. I seriously have a kink for always in control men - losing control.
Thank you for the message!! I hope you like this little story!
title: the babysitter
pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x babysitter!female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age difference (21F and 36M), power imbalance dynamics, begging, pet names, oral sex (f receiving), kinda perv Joel, no use of y/n.
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You’re asleep on the couch when Joel comes home from a night at the bar with Tommy. The TV casts a blue glow over your soft features. Your plush pink lips are slightly parted, and your tits remain barely covered by the tank top you wore over that evening to babysit Sarah.
You’ve been Sarah’s babysitter since you were eighteen and Joel was desperate to find a balance between being a single father and getting the chance to spend some time out with his friends and brother, usually at a dive bar shooting pool like they did tonight. His neighbor had recommended you, a sweet young girl who just graduated high school and worked as a babysitter for extra cash while attending the community college.
Now you were approaching twenty-one, a whole fifteen years his junior. Something Joel has to remind himself on nights like tonight, when his eyes greedily roam across your exposed skin and commit the view of your nipples straining against your tight tank top to memory.
He’s had a few drinks tonight. Nothing crazy, but he feels the buzz in his veins as he continues to watch you. You shift positions, turning more on your back and raising your arms up, the motion exposing a strip of stomach above the waistband of the shorts you’d worn.
Joel can normally tamp down the thoughts he has about you, sweeping them under a metaphorical rug to be ignored. But tonight, he lets himself drink his fill, storing it away for later.
Surely there’s no harm in that?
He needs to wake you up, needs to hand you the handful of twenties and walk you to your car, just like he does every other evening you babysit for him. He reaches a hand out to grip your shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. Your brow furrows, but you otherwise don’t stir. He lets his palm linger in your warm skin, swallowing down the urge to drag his hand lower, to cup your breast in his palm and see if a pinch of your nipple makes your back arch in ecstasy.
He tries another shake, followed by a murmur of your name. That has you blinking up at him, eyes heavy with sleep.
“Mr. Miller? What times’it?” You slur. He checks his watch.
“Just past 12,” he tells you. His hand is still on your shoulder.
“Oh. I’m sorry I fell asleep,” you tell him with a yawn. “Guess I didn’t realize how tired I was.”
You lick your lips, staring up at him. His brain is screaming at him to remove his hand, to take a step back and take a breath, to remind himself that you’re the babysitter.
But your head tilts, appraising him. Keen eyes stare back at him like you know exactly what he’s thinking.
“Mr. Miller?” You ask again, voice breathier. Joel’s fingers flex against your skin. You press your shoulders into the couch cushion, the movement causing his hand to drift lower, the tips of his fingers just grazing the flesh of your breast.
Your breathing becomes rapid, but you remain still. Joel swallows harshly, his fingers inching the slightest bit lower. Your lashes flutter as he slips the tip of his pinky beneath the neckline of your tank top.
He takes a harsh breath, ready to withdraw his hand and chalk this up to a brief moment of insanity, but as he tries to move away, your hands grip his wrist.
“I can’t do this, honey,” Joel says. You whine, tilting your head back.
“Please?” You ask. Your hands release his wrist, and Joel knows he should hold strong.
But then your own hands are drifting down your body, caressing your curves before dipping beneath the waist of your shorts. Joel’s heart beats a mile a minute, a frantic pulsing in his chest as he watches you with unwavering focus.
Your hips jolt as your fingers swipe against your clit. His view is hindered by your shorts and he wants nothing more than to remove them and replace your fingers with his.
“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you say, eyes wide as you stare up at him. “You can touch me. I want it.”
“No,” Joel says, but it sounds weak even to his own ears. And you notice it, too.
“Please,” you beg. Your hips grind against your hand. “I’ll be such a good girl for you.”
Joel’s eyes flutter closed as he takes a deep, steadying breath. In through his nose, out through his mouth.
“You’re too young for me, darlin’,” he finally says. He lifts his hand from your shoulder and you give a sad little whine that has him grinding his teeth together.
“Why are you being so mean?” You accuse.
“You don’t know what mean is.”
“Why don’t you show me, then?”
You remove your hand from your shorts. Even in the dim light of the TV he can see the unmistakable shimmer of your slick coating your fingers. When you spread them, a thin thread stretches between your digits.
He watches it stretch to its limit before snapping. And much like that thread of fluid, the last of his control snaps, too.
“Take off your shorts,” Joel says. When you don’t move he snaps, “Don’t make me ask again.”
That gets you moving, your hips lifting from the cushions so that your hands can shove your shorts down to your ankles. You gaze up at him, waiting for instruction.
Joel moves your outer leg off the couch, your foot settling on the floor. He kneels between the new space and lets his hungry eyes consume you.
“Dirty girl,” he murmurs. He collects the saliva on his tongue, spitting it harshly against your pussy, your body jolting and your head dropping back with a moan. “Quiet. You gotta be quiet, okay.”
You nod your head quickly, teeth digging against your lip to make good on your promise. Satisfied, Joel leans down and licks a broad stripe through your slick folds, the tip of his tongue dipping into your entrance before he drags it up to circle your clit.
You’re writhing beneath him as he attends to your needy cunt, your whimpers such music to his ears that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you to be quiet again.
Your fingers grip his shoulders, the bite of your nails into the thick muscle making him groan against your center. He can feel your hole flutter against his tongue and takes the opportunity to slip a finger into your tight heat.
You gasp, back arching as you shatter around
him, cunt pulsing deliciously around his finger. He’d love nothing more than to feel you around his cock.
But this has already gone too far.
He withdraws his hand, reaching down to grab your shorts and pull them up your legs. Your brow furrows in confusion.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
“It’s time you head home,” he says, not daring to meet your eyes. You’re still and quiet for so long he finally chances a glance.
To his surprise, your lips are tilted into a smirk. You shuffle onto your knees, bringing yourself face to face with him. You reach for his hand, keeping your eyes trained to his as you slip the finger coated in your release into your mouth.
You hum, and Joel has to fight the moan clawing its way up his throat. You release his finger with a slick pop before rising to stand.
“I’ll see you next week, Mr. Miller,” you say casually.
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fanaticsnail · 3 months
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when are you going to write the Sapsorrow fic 💀💀💀💀
Oh, you mean this one?
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I'll just need to watch this to refresh my memory.
The Storyteller - Sapsorrow
"Whom so ever fits the ring becomes wed to the warlord who owns it"
Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope.
I would love to give this a go. I gotta think of a playlist to hyperfixate on it.
(And Sis, I know it's you 💀).
Chapter Links:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10 Finale
526 notes · View notes
cosmicbucky · 5 months
Note
A chubby reader who's super self conscious of her belly and bust? Like she's strong and stuff, comes with the higher weight, but just....
Cant really wear anything unless it's sweats and a sweater, or a t-shirt. Almost never goes out.
And one day Bucky comes to the compound. Reader immediately gets a crush, and has major anxiety over it, like "leaving the room when he comes near" anxiety. Bucky thinks it's his fault, that he's done something wrong and talks to you about it.
He decides to talk to you about it, crying ensues because insecurities, and then the fluff.
Sorry this ask is so long, I'm kinda scrambled XP
hi, lovely! 💫
first of all, don't apologize for bringing this beautiful request into my world! i was beyond excited to have the chance to bring this idea to life, and i hope the direction i took with it does justice to what you had in mind!
second of all, i am so sorry this took me so long to put out, this request is so lovely and i really wanted to make it the best i could.
i hope you enjoy!
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matches
pairing: bucky barnes x midsize!reader
word count: 3974
warnings: insecurities and self consciousness, mild body image issues, brief self depreciating thoughts, angst, mutual pining, fluff, swearing, allusions to mature themes, let me know if i missed anything!
please do not read this if you're not comfortable with any of the above topics. while they are not heavily focused on, they are the main theme of this fic
a/n: big thanks to @buckylattes for reading this and catching some of the dumb ass mistakes i made lmao
《《《《 ♡ 》》》》
Being part of the Rescue and Reconnaissance division of Stark Industries wasn't the most glamorous job, but you loved it. You got to work nearly hand in hand with field agents every day, formulating plans for raids, rescues, infiltrations, or general takedown missions to make sure all those involved worked as safely and efficiently as possible. 
You were the one they turned to when a new plan was needed; when they were at risk. There were a few agents who refused to listen to anyone other than you when it came to these times - specifically asking for you to help them through. 
Agent Barnes was one of these people, and though you could never voice it, he was your favourite to deal with. He was always kind and courteous, understanding in the fact that despite not being in the same rankings as him, you damn well knew what you were doing. And, well, it didn't hurt that he always found a moment to be a charming little flirt. 
You have no idea why he had such faith in you. Maybe it was because you always took what he suggested into consideration when calculating next steps. Maybe it was because your ideas were as crazy as his sometimes. Maybe it was simply because he liked the sound of your voice. 
You never knew. 
You never actually met him.
All your dealings with field agents were done from the safety of your control room. You never minded it, though. It was nice, in a way. You absolutely loved doing what you do, but you would never be able to handle being around field agents all the time. Not when they look the way they do, and you…. well, you're you. 
Your thighs touch when you walk, your belly shakes when you laugh, your arms jiggle when you move. You have to painstakingly pick out the right kinds of shirts, otherwise your chest will make it seem like you're three times as big as you really are. 
You were the chubby girl who always hid in the shadows, too afraid to let the world see how bright you truly shine - you were a flame ready to ignite, but no one around you ever offered you a match. 
You were used to it. You made peace with it a long time ago, finding solace in your own company instead of relying on other people to enjoy your time with. It still bothered you from time to time, and you let yourself have days where you wallowed in it, wishing things were different, wishing you looked different. Though, for the most part, it stopped bothering you so much the older you got. 
Until the day you finally met Bucky. 
It was a strange day, being sent to the compound. You've never been sent anywhere before, always planted in your seat while talking to field agents across the world. Yet here you were, being requested by Tony Stark himself. 
You must have spent hours trying to find the right outfit. One that showed off your curves without accentuating the extra pudge around your middle. One that complimented your chest without highlighting the size. One that showed off your ass without making it look massive. One that carefully hid your arms. One that you felt comfortable in. 
It felt like your heart was in your throat the whole time. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full on frenzy, and you had to take deep breaths every few seconds to stay calm; and to not throw up. 
You barely heard it when Tony said he wanted you working under him. You could hardly process it when he said he created a job just for you. You didn't quite understand it when he told you there was space for you at the compound, and he wanted you here full time. 
All you could do was dumbly nod your head, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of the fact that Bucky Barnes was just outside the conference room. 
By the time the meeting was over, you felt lightheaded. You clutched the contract you were given against your chest and took a final deep breath before leaving the room, hoping to get by unnoticed. It's not like he even knew who you really were, right? 
A gentle calling of your name told you that you were very, very wrong. 
Your feet became rooted in place as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing all you could on calming your nerves before turning around. And jesus christ, nothing could have prepared you for how beautiful this man actually was in person. 
"Hi," you breathed out, a tiny shy smile gracing your lips. 
"Hi," he said, unintentionally mimicking you. 
His eyes travelled over your face before taking their time roaming your body; you shifted uncomfortably and clutched the contract a little tighter as he stayed fixed on you. A smirk graced his lips, but it was gone before you could really focus on it. 
"It's, uh-... it's nice to finally meet you, Agent Barnes," you muttered sheepishly, hesitantly offering him your hand. 
"You can call me Bucky," he said, smiling warmly as he took your hand in his, sending fire throughout your whole body. "I'd like to say thank you for saving my ass as often as you do, but thank you doesn't seem like enough."
You chuckled, feeling your face flush under his gaze. "'Thank you' suffices just fine, Bucky. I've only been doing my job."
"Speaking of," he started, tilting his head a little as he eyed the contract you held. "You gonna take it?" he asked curiously, his eyes snapping back to yours. 
"What?" you asked, caught off guard by his question.
"The job," he said, gesturing between the contract in your hands and the conference room you just occupied. "You gonna say yes?" 
"How do you know about that?" you asked curiously.
"I know things," he said passively, shrugging his shoulders. "How 'bout I show you around? You can see the place before you decide anything."
You wanted to say no. You wanted to run away and retreat into yourself once more. Though something about the way he was looking at you made it hard to do so. 
So, you agreed. 
And that's how everything started. 
You took the job, moving into the compound a few days after that. You quickly made friends with the girls, and they became your support group; they would help you when it came to shopping for clothes or finding the right outfit for events. They offered to go for walks with you or do yoga - anything you felt like doing, really. You still felt inferior to them from time to time, but not because they made you feel that way; no one at the compound did. 
Only yourself. 
When it came to the boys, it was more or less the same thing. You felt comfortable around them, and you never minded close contact or them seeing you in tighter fitting clothes. 
Everyone was family, and it never felt awkward or uncomfortable around them. 
Except for when it came to Bucky. 
You still grew closer to him over the months of you living at the compound so far, but it hasn't been easy. It was a constant challenge, and it grew harder for you day after day.
When it came to you working alongside him on his missions, everything was great. Nothing with him changed, aside from him throwing out a few more flirty comments. And, since you still had the safety net of being behind comms, you threw some right back at him. 
Once the missions were over, though, it was hard to be around him. You wanted to be around him, but it was nearly impossible. Your feelings for him grew, and the stronger your feelings were, the more distant you became. 
You were careful to only wear sweaters or loose tees paired with sweatpants around him, making sure he would never catch sight of the extra weight you carried around. You quit eating around him; it's not like you had bad eating habits, but you couldn't shake the panic that he would somehow be disgusted, that he would think the reason you're so chubby was because of your diet. You stopped sitting near him during movie nights, and you never hugged him. No matter how much you itched to wrap your arms around him when he came home safe from missions, you couldn't risk him feeling the rolls your body carried, or how soft and pudgy you were. 
It was driving Bucky crazy.
From the minute he finally set his eyes on you, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was beyond thrilled when you agreed to Stark's offer, and he couldn't wait to take the opportunity to get to know you - which was a massive step for him. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he did something to upset you. 
He grew more confused every day. When it came to conversing over the comms during missions, you two were like a well oiled machine; giggles and flirting and jokes of previous missions. No one would ever know something was amiss. 
Yet when everyone would return home, it was like a switch was flipped. You greeted everyone with hugs and smiles and affection, and Bucky always waited patiently for his turn: but it never came. Instead, you turned to him with an awkward smile and shining eyes and gave him the traditional "welcome home, soldier" that, despite everything, always pulled a smile from his lips. 
He racked his brain every night trying to figure out if he did something, if he said something, but he could never come up with anything. He could never find a reason for the way you would some days leave the room as soon as he entered, for why you always hid away from him when he would catch you off guard in workout clothes or formal attire. He could never come up with an explanation and it was eating him alive. 
The final straw came for him on the night of Pepper’s birthday party. 
He didn’t want to go, he never wanted to go to these things, but ever since you came around he found himself more willing to at least make an appearance; if only to see you. However, he wasn’t even positive if you were going to show up this time, given the way you’ve been so distant lately - and that made him not want to go at all. So he was biding his time, sitting in the kitchen and emptying a bottle of whiskey, trying to not make it obvious that he was waiting to see if you’d wander out of your room before he slipped away to the party.
You stood in front of your mirror for what felt like hours, never before feeling more diffident as you assessed your reflection. You’ve been to some of Tony’s parties before, but this was for Pepper - it was the most grandiose one you’ve attended to date. You weren’t left much choice but to dress your fanciest, and you felt so unfamiliar with your own body as your hands trailed down the fabric of your dress. It was form fitting, hugging every curve you had and accentuating your figure in a way you weren’t used to seeing. The straps were small and the cut was low, it travelled midcalf and had a small slit up the side, showing way more of your leg than you wanted. You had a burning desire to change, but Nat insisted you looked incredible, and Wanda already applied a touch of makeup to match the dress - not to mention you were already running late as it was. 
With one last heavy sigh, you steeled yourself before slipping on your heels and marching out of your room. You thought of anything and everything you could as you marched down the hall, doing your best to pay no mind to the way you felt the fabric clinging to your body with every move you made. God, you really should have put on shapewear. 
Bucky heard you before he saw you, your footfalls echoing through the floor in the same pattern he came to memorize in the months you’ve been here. He took a deep breath, prepared for the fact that you would most likely brush him off once more. He was not prepared, though, for the sight of you as you rounded the corner. 
You were not prepared to see him sitting there, clad in a pressed suit, or for him to quite literally choke on the drink he was nursing as he took in your presence. 
“Jesus, Bucky. Are you alright?” you inquired, conflicted between staying where you stood and approaching him. 
A dismissive wave of his hand had you staying in place, your arms wrapping around your middle as you began to feel exposed to him. 
“I’m fine, I’m good,” he coughed out, refilling his glass as if nothing happened. 
You stood there quietly, completely unsure of what to do next. The silence was becoming louder and louder but you didn’t want to draw his attention to you. Not when you were looking like this. Not when he’d be able to see every curve and divot of your body, the protrusion of your stomach, the ample raise of your chest. You were really starting to regret not changing. 
“Are you gonna stand there and stare all night or head to the party?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the glass before him. His tone was playful, but his voice had a rasp to it that sent a shiver down your spine. 
“Oh, uh - sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat as you slowly advanced in his direction. “Are, um-… are you gonna join the party?” 
He huffed a small laugh, his eyes finally raising to meet yours only to find that you were looking almost everywhere but at him, effectively wiping the small smile from his face. 
“I’m not so sure,” he said lowly, downing the contents of his glass as he kept his eyes on you. 
You hummed, looking down at your hands before chancing a glance at him; his gaze on you so intense that you immediately looked away again. 
“Well, I- I hope to see you there,” you said sincerely, wringing your fingers together. “You look really nice, Buck” you added quietly, looking up at him just long enough to flash him a warm smile before continuing through the kitchen. 
“Did I do something wrong?” he called after you, the hurt in his voice impossible to miss. 
“What?” you asked in confusion, turning to glance in his direction. 
“Did I do something wrong?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Because ever since you moved in here, it’s like you can’t stand the sight of me.” 
You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that left you, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true.” 
“No?” he asked, his tone taking on a new edge. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you can’t even fucking look at me right now. You practically run from me when I enter the same room, you do everything you can to avoid me, and let’s not forget the fact that I’m the only one around here who you don’t hug after getting back from missions.”
“Bucky-” you tried to explain, but the lump forming in your throat stopped you short. 
“I just wanna know what I did,” he carried on, voice softer this time. “I don’t know if you’re angry with me or- or if you’re scared of me-” 
“I am not scared of you,” you interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. “Please don’t think that.”
“What else am I supposed to think?” he asked quietly. “Everything is fine when I’m out on the field, we- I get along with you better than anyone. But then I come home, and it’s not the same.”
“It’s not-... it’s not like that, Bucky,” you whispered sadly, unintentionally looking away from him again. 
“Yeah, if you say so,” he said curtly, sighing in defeat as he filled his glass again. “Just enjoy the party, okay?”
“You’re not coming?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice. 
“Well, you’re just gonna avoid me anyway. Might as well make it easier for you and stay here,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the twirling glass in his hands. 
“I don’t want you to think like that,” you admitted softly. “I- I don’t mean to do the things I do.”
“Then why do they happen?” he inquired, his eyes meeting yours and displaying a painful mix of hurt and confusion. 
“Because,” you started, feeling your bottom lip quiver. “I mean, look at me, Buck,” you finished, as if that was explanation enough. 
“Believe me, I’m looking,” he said gently. “And you look-... well, I wanna say you look beautiful, but that implies you don’t always look beautiful, so, I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he added, his voice so low he may as well have been speaking to himself, but you heard every word he muttered. 
“...What?” you breathed out, staring over at him. 
“What?” he questioned, glancing up to catch your eye.
You tried to swallow the lump in your throat but it just kept on growing, forcing you to choke on your words. 
“Hey, wait, don’t-... okay, now I really said something wrong, right?” he asked quickly, starting to panic as he watched your eyes fill with tears. 
Shaking your head vehemently, you delicately wiped your eyes, hoping not to smudge the work that Wanda did for you. “No, you- I just didn’t expect you to say that. I-... I'm not used to hearing that." 
"You're not?" he asked, genuinely surprised. 
You almost laughed, and you probably would have if it wasn't such an embarrassing thing to admit. "No. I'm… guys don't really call girls who look like me beautiful." 
He fell silent for a minute, eyeing you carefully before shifting in his seat, resting his arms on the table.
"You know, I've been alive for a pretty long time now," he said conversationally, as if you weren't on the cusp of a breakdown. "And I've also been quite literally around the whole world in that time. Some of it I remember, some of it… not so much. But even so, do you know what the one thing I can say with complete certainty is?" 
You waited for him to go on for a moment before realizing he was actually looking for an answer. "No, what?" you manage to croak out. 
He smiled softly, relaxing in his seat again. "I have, quite literally, never met anyone as beautiful as you. And I mean in both appearance and personality." 
"But I- I'm not… I don't have the kind of body like the other women around here," you murmured, casting your gaze downwards as if you were ashamed of your words. 
"So?" he asked incredulously. "Do you seriously think that you're automatically not beautiful just because you aren't the same size as them?" 
"No, it- you can't- I'm not-" you tried to argue, but all you could get out were a few utterances before you had to choke back a sob, completely lost on how to express yourself. 
"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" he asked anxiously, fighting the urge to approach you. 
"Yes. I mean no, I-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, taking a moment to consider your answer. "I've been too embarrassed to be around you. I-... I was afraid you'd be repulsed by me and that I'd lose you." 
"Repulsed by you? A woman who puts fucking goddesses to shame?" he asked in disbelief. "Did me choking on my drink earlier not prove how taken by you I am?" 
"Is that what that was?" you wondered, letting out a watery laugh. 
"Yeah, that's what that was," he confirmed with a soft chuckle. "A guy does a real life spit take when he sees the girl of his dreams looking like the focus of a goddamn renaissance painting and she doesn't even realize it," he mumbled in exasperation, yet his eyes carried a playful sparkle. 
"The girl of your dreams?" you repeated in shock, your voice a nervous whisper. 
"Was that too cliché?" he questioned, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
"Maybe a little," you said playfully, sniffling quietly. 
"I know how it feels, you know," he said softly. "To feel uncomfortable in your own body. But if you'd let me, I'll spend every day proving to you that I see you as nothing short of perfect." 
You could only nod, giving him a weak smile as you fought back a wave of tears. "Yeah, I-... I could do that, too," you agreed quietly. 
He grinned softly, greedily taking in your appearance once more before tearing his eyes away. "Come on," he urged, downing his drink before standing up. "You owe me about seven dances." 
"Where does that number come from?" you asked with a laugh, watching as he approached you. 
"For how many parties you snubbed me at so far," he replied casually, stopping as he stood before you. 
"I never snubbed you," you grumbled, peering up at him. 
"Sure you didn't," he teased, carefully wiping the tears from your face. 
"Do I still look okay?" you asked nervously, fidgiting slightly under his touch. 
"Gorgeous as ever," he replied sincerely. 
You couldn't help but grin, laughing a little anxiously. "Okay. Come on, or else we won't have enough time for all those dances." 
Bucky laughed happily, taking your hand and rushing to join the party, having you giggling in his wake as you did your best to keep up. 
You let him whisk you away for the rest of the night, leading you through all the dances you owed him; and a few more, for good measure, as Bucky put it. 
He stayed true to his word, and there wasn't a second that you spent with him where you didn't feel like the most ravishing woman to walk the earth.
Especially when he took his precious time in the dark of the night to memorize and worship every inch of your body over and over again.
So as you sat here now, watching from across the room as he danced with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel foolish. Foolish for letting your thoughts take away the extra time you could have had with him, foolish for ever thinking this incredible man would ever judge you for something so trivial. Foolish, foolish, foolish. 
"Penny for your thoughts?" you heard from beside you, ripping you from your reverie.  
You turned your head, grinning as you saw the very man himself had taken up the seat to your left. "What, get tired of dancing already, old man?" 
He gasped, feigning offense as he took in your words. "I'd watch who you're calling old, sweetheart," he warned playfully. 
"I'd watch who you're calling sweetheart. I happen to be a married woman now, you know," you replied jovially.
"Married, huh? Should've known I didn't stand a chance," he lamented, shaking his head. "How about a pity dance?" he suggested with a grin, holding his hand out to you. 
You giggled softly, taking his hand with a grin of your own. "Lead the way, Mr. Barnes." 
"Anything for you, Mrs. Barnes," he replied with a wink, leading you to the dance floor. 
And just like he did three years ago, he whisked you away and led you through a whole seven dances; and a few more, for good measure. 
You were a flame, finally ignited, and Bucky was your match.
1K notes · View notes
scarlethexelove · 2 months
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I saw that you are looking for requests & I had an idea after seeing a BTS photo of Kate Bishop/Hailee’s face all bruised/cut.
What if Kate comes back from a mission and reader sees her all bruised and wants to help, but Kate is frustrated and angry after the mission and fucks reader w/a strap until she feels better 😅🥰
Let Me Use You
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Not my gif found from google
Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader
Word Count: 2698
Warnings: Smut, Dom!Kate, Sub!Reader, Fingering (R receiving), Strap-on (R receiving), Squirting, Dacryphilia, Slight Bondage, Light Marking. I think that is it.
A/n: This one was fun I love Kate so much. Thanks for the request for her. Hope you enjoy.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
You’re sitting on the couch in your living room. A movie playing on the Tv as you eat some popcorn. The night is quiet and your girlfriend should be on a mission. It worries you but you know she will come home safe to you. She has to come home safe, you think to yourself. You have been dating Kate for a year now. You met her when she saved you from being mugged. You were so thankful but couldn’t help but reflect on the beautiful girl that saved you that night. It brings a smile to your face. You never dreamed of dating an avenger. A regular girl who just so happens to have stolen the heart of an avenger. 
You're pulled from your thoughts when you hear a crash in your bedroom. You scramble putting your popcorn down on the coffee table quickly kicking the blankets off your lap and getting up. You grab the baseball bat that is sitting by the front door and make your way down the hall. You can hear some grunts as you get closer. With your heart beating out of your chest you grab the handle. You take a deep breath before twisting the knob and swinging the door open. Charging in with the bat held high ready to hit whoever is in your room. 
You scream closing your eyes and swinging the bat down. You feel the momentum of the bat before it stops. You slowly open your eyes to see piercing blue eyes staring back at you. Those blue eyes that you would know anywhere. “What the hell was that Y/n/n?” Kate questions you loudly. “I-I-I thought you were an intruder. You - you're supposed to be on a mission.” You stammer, setting the bat down. 
Kate sighs, her shoulders are tense and you can now see the scratches and bruises littering her face. You quickly move forward and reach for her face but she grabs your hands pulling them around her waist as she pulls you close crashing her lips into yours. You get lost in the kiss before remembering what was just happening so you pull back. Which elicits a growl from the back of your girlfriend's throat. She pulls you closer by your hips but you stand strong even if your knees feel weak. Your girlfriend's possessive behavior always having an effect on you. 
“Your hurt Katie please let me help.” You try to persuade the woman in front of you. “I’m fine princess. I was checked at the compound.” She tells you which makes you feel better. But that still leaves a question in your mind and like she knew the next words that were going to come out of your mouth she speaks again. “I lost my keys and my phone is dead so I climbed up the escape ladder.” You can’t help but chuckle at this. It has been the first time and it more than likely won’t be the last. 
You can still feel how tense she is while holding you. So you give her a gentle kiss before looking into her eyes. “What’s wrong baby?” You ask her, moving your hand and gently caressing her cheek.  “Let me use you” She growls before attacking your neck leaving reddish purple marks. You let out a groan and your legs almost give out, but Kate's hold on you keeps you in her arms. “K-katie?” You stutter out. She hums against your neck lifting you into her arms. You wrap your legs around her waist as she carries you towards the bed. You’ve seen her like this a few other times and know exactly what she wants so you let her do it. You can’t complain because you get so much pleasure out of it too. 
Kate tosses you on the bed before climbing on top of you. She continues to attack your neck and slowly move down. Once she reaches your shirt she gets a little frustrated with it being in the way so she leans up and rips your shirt down the middle. “Katie!” You yell at her. “I’ll buy you a new one.” She grumbles before leaning back down and leaving marks on your chest. She pulls your bra down letting your breast spill out. Taking your nipple into her mouth, scraping her teeth over the sensitive bud before sucking harshly. You moan out and your hand flies to her hair gripping harshly. Her hand moving to your other nipple tweaking it between her fingers making sure that it gets the same attention. Once she is satisfied she moves her mouth to your other hardened peak and does the same.
You grip her tightly and pull her closer. “Katie please.” Your whines fill the room as you start to buck your hips for some form of relief. You can feel her smile around your nipple before she pulls back and sits up looking down at you. She climbs off of you which causes you to whine and for her to chuckle. “Get undressed princess.” She tells you heading into the closet. You take no time and start to do what she says. “Leave your underwear on pretty girl.” She pokes her head out from around the corner of the closet, a dark look in her eyes. Once you are done you sit back down on the bed waiting for your girlfriend to come back out. 
After what feels like an eternity your wetness soaking your underwear in anticipation for what is to come Kate walks out. A large purple strap hanging from her hips makes you squirm. It must be new and it looks bigger than anything you have taken before. You let out a small whimper before trailing up to her eyes. You see some bruising on her side which concerns you. You get up and start making your way to her forgetting all about what was going on before. “Oh Katie.” You say holding her hips and taking a look at her side. 
Kate grabs your hands and places them together. She starts to tie your hands together with the rope that you had totally missed. “I told you I’m fine princess. I just need to use your pretty little body for some stress release. Can you let me do that sweet girl?” You nod when looking back up into her beautiful blown out blue eyes. “Good girl.” She praises you as she leads you back to the bed. 
“Lay down.” Kate tells you. You scramble the best you can onto the bed with your hands tied. She gets on after you and settles between your legs. She takes your tied hands and moves them above your head before tying them to the headboard. You wiggle a bit and whine. You knew it was happening but you didn’t want it to. You want to be able to touch your girlfriend. She just gives you a sickly sweet smile and kisses your head before settling back. 
Kate licks her lips as she looks down at how you have soaked through your underwear. “As much as I want to taste you baby girl, that will just have to wait. I want to see your pussy stretched out around my cock.” You look down at her as she jerks her faux cock. “Too big.” You whimper, which makes her grin wider. “Don’t worry your pretty little head princess. I’ll make it fit.” She presses a finger to your clit through your underwear, which causes you to squirm and moan. Your hands balled into fist as you pull on the restraints trying to reach for her. But she doesn’t pay you any mind with that. She pushes your panties to the side and uses two fingers to tease your entrance. 
You buck your hips hoping that with Kate's frustrations she won’t tease you tonight. She loves to tease you for hours before finally fucking you. And lucky for you tonight she takes mercy on you. She shoves two fingers into you and quickly starts working them in and out. She doesn’t give you much time to adjust but you're already so wet for her that you don’t really need it. “F-fuck Katie.” You moan out. 
Your hips bucking into Kate’s hand as she pounders her fingers into your pussy. She curls them expertly as she draws them out. Her skilled fingers are already bringing you close to the edge. Her thumb moving and pressing down on your bundle of nerves. Your whimpers and moans echoing off the walls. “Always such pretty noises.” Kate purs. She adds a third finger stretching you deliciously. Her fingers picking up even more speed that you didn’t know was possible. Your hips bucking wildly as your walls clench tightly around her fingers drawing them in more. The knot in your stomach is close to snapping. “You want to cum pretty girl? Cum on my fingers show me how good I make you feel.” You push your head back into the pillows as a loud moan is ripped from the back of your throat. Your legs tremble and you try to close them as your orgasm takes over you. Kate pushes them open as your cum coats her fingers. 
She keeps working you through your orgasm. She starts scissoring her fingers a bit inside you as she pulls out. Stretching you out so that you are prepared to take her strap. Your whimpers are heard as she knows you're a bit sensitive now but she just wants to make sure. Once she deems you ready for her cock she pulls them out and pops her fingers into her mouth. She moans at your taste as she sucks them dry. Your chest is heaving as you watch the woman you love. “Fuck tastes so delicious. Not as good as right from the source but I’ll have to come back to that later when you're all messy and I need to clean you up.” She smiles and you shudder at her words. 
Kate leans down and kisses you making you taste yourself on her lips. You moan into her mouth from your taste and when you feel her faux cock nudging against your clit. She pulls back and looks into your eyes. Her pupils are dark and blown with desire. She gives you another quick peck before sitting back on her knees. She pushes your underwear out of the way with her cock as she brings it to your entrance. She slowly pushes the head of her cock in. You can tell she wants to go faster, to ruin you right away but she doesn’t want to hurt you. 
You flex your hands before balling them into fist as the head makes its way into velvety walls. Already feeling fuller than you ever have before. Kate pushes her hips forward as you take more. The stretch is deliciously painful as she sinks her cock all the way in, down to the base. You whine at the stretch and how full it makes you feel. “I know princess. I know it’s a lot but it will feel so good soon I promise.” Kate coos as she wipes the tears rolling down the side of your face. You hadn’t even realized that you were crying. You hate to admit how good the pain felt. 
After a moment you start to grind your hips into Kate. You wrap your legs around her signaling to her that she is ok to move. She waist no time in pulling back till only the tip is in before snapping her hips forward. She has been fighting to not to just ruin you. She loves to see you cry as she fucks you hard and rough. How your body reacts under her touch. You were made for her to use and to fuck for her own please. 
Kate pounds into you mercilessly as she sees your tears rolling down the side of your face, your eyes closed as you’re lost in the pleasure. . Your mouth hangs open as your moans fill the room. Kate moves her hand down between your bodies and you feel a small vibration come to life. You snap your eyes open and look at your girlfriend. She moans as she snaps her hips. She has a vibrator in the base to help with her pleasure, which gives you a bit more. She turns it up causing both of you to moan at the same time. 
You throw your head back as you buck your hips and pull her closer by your legs. Kate loves when you're so eager to please her. She works the cock in and out of your soaked cunt. The squelching sounds of your pussy filling the room along with your combined moans and some of Kate’s grunts. You pull on your restraints in dire need to touch her to pull her even closer. She notices and gives in. Working to untie you as she never falters in her quick deep thrust. Once she is able to release your hands, they immediately move to her back and you dig your nails in. This causes Kate to moan at the pleasurable sting. She loves it when you mark up her back. 
You drag your nails down her back as you pull her closer trying to help her thrust. Your walls clench around her cock as she pushes into you. If she meets any resistance you can’t tell. “Fuck! You're so pretty when you cry and let me use you like this.” Kate leans down and kisses you. Rutting her strap into you as she does so. She pulls away from your heated kiss and places her head on yours. Watching your face as she continues to fuck you. “Mmm s-so good Katie.” You whimper and moan the knot growing tighter in your lower stomach again. 
Kate's thrust starts to get sloppier as she gets closer to impending release. Your nails dig in more to her back, her thrust causing scratches to appear up and down her back. You tear stained cheeks sending her into more of a frenzy. Wanting both of your releases. 
With Kate’s sloppy thrust and your walls clenching hard around your cock it isn’t long before both of your orgasms are daring to crash over the both of you. “Cum with me princess.” Kate mutters before kissing you hard. Her body goes ridge above you. You moan into her mouth as your mutual orgasms wash over the both of you. You cum coating her cock, squirting out onto her abdomen and soaking the sheets below you. Kate moans and looks down watching your juices flow out of you. She ruts her cock into you as she helps you both ride out your highs. 
Once she stops leaving her cock buried deep inside of your soaked cunt and she shuts off the vibe. She rolls you both on your sides as you cuddle in close to her. “I-I’m sorry.” You stutter out. Upset with the mess you just made. “Don’t be princess that was super fucking hot.” She caresses your cheek and smiles gently at you. You nuzzle into her hand. Both enjoying the soft moment. 
“Feel better baby?” You ask Kate as your breathing gets back to normal and your legs aren’t trembling as much. “Much. Thank you baby for letting me use you.” She kisses you softly. You can’t help but chuckle. “How can I say no when the orgasms are mind blowingly good when you're like that.” This causes you both to break out in a fit of giggles. Once those giggles die down again you both lay there in utter bliss. Kate shifts unexpectedly causing you to moan as the cock still buried deep inside of you moves. 
You watch as Kate’s gaze darkens again. The sound of your moan revitalizing her need for you and to destroy you. She starts to gently thrust again and you know now that you're in for a very long night. “I love you princess.” Kate mutters her head presses back against yours as she thrust. “I love you too.” You reply. Ready for the long night ahead.
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lecsainz · 6 months
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hey!!!! so a Londo x gf!reader where Lando is a super loving but at the same time suuper annoying and sassy boyfriend 😂
DATING WITH LANDO NORRIS
summary: that's how it would be like dating lando.
authors note: While writing this, I almost died cause I went to grab coffee, and it was SO SO SO HOT 😭 I got inspired by the messages I found on Pinterest 💅
✩. . . masterlist !
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You didn't know that dating Lando would be a test of patience. Not that you were a boring person, but Lando had a knack for teasing you just for fun, and it drove you crazy...
You're in college, juggling lectures and assignments, and Lando takes every opportunity to distract you with playful text messages and surprise visits to your campus.
Living in London together means endless opportunities for exploration, but also endless debates about whether to take the Tube or an Uber, and Lando always insists on walking, even in the rain.
Lando's idea of a romantic date involves taking you to a go-kart track and pretending to lose so that he can see you competitive and fired up.
He's super loving, and when you're stressed with exams, he'll make you tea and give you back massages, but not without adding a cheeky comment about how you should study less and cuddle more.
Whenever you're watching a Formula 1 race, he'll point at the screen and say, "That's gonna be me winning for you one day, babe."
Lando can't resist poking fun at your accent, even though he's the one with the strong British one. "Say 'water' again, love."
He insists on cooking together, but be prepared for a chaotic kitchen and lots of flour fights.
Lando loves surprising you with impromptu road trips, and while you appreciate the spontaneity, you secretly wish he'd let you pack a bag first.
He's a night owl, and you're not. He'll playfully nag you to stay up late and binge-watch Netflix series with him.
On your birthdays, Lando goes all out with surprises. One year, he arranged for you to take a ride in an actual Formula 1 car (with a professional driver, him, of course).
Lando can't help but show off his driving skills when you're in the car together, even if it means a few hair-raising moments.
He leaves sticky notes with cheesy love messages all over your apartment, which you find for days, even in the most unexpected places.
Sometimes, he intentionally loses bets just to owe you a favor he can cash in later for cuddles.
Lando's sense of humor is a mix of charming wit and cheeky sarcasm, which makes every conversation an entertaining challenge.
Lando's cooking skills are... questionable, but he'll proudly present you with his latest culinary creation, and you'll pretend it's the best thing you've ever tasted.
He loves to bug you, especially when he's jetlagged, sending all sorts of messages like:
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ginnsbaker · 6 months
Text
mastermind
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Summary: As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy. And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her // …or the one where you find Wanda in the crowd during your band's gig, only to discover there's much more to her than you initially thought.
Word count: 5.2K+ | Tags: Smut (18+), Fluff, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Squirting, Overstimulation, Meet-cute, Drummer!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Requested by anon. I got carried a way for a bit and took a few liberties. Hope you like it!
-
You almost didn’t make it for tonight’s gig. 
Still recovering from the flu you caught last week, you were close to letting Kate fill in on the drums. That is, until Yelena begged you not to let her girlfriend botch a sold-out evening.
The tension backstage is thicker than Bucky’s pre-show smoothie, and, given the mishmash of green ingredients, that's saying something.
“I'm just saying, letting Kate drum tonight is like giving a cat a keyboard and expecting Bonham,” Yelena says, gesturing wildly with her hands.
“Continue talking and you might not have a girlfriend by the end of your next sentence!” Kate huffs, spinning on her heel to stomp out of the area. 
You sip on your water, trying to keep your hydration levels up but also stifle a chuckle. This isn’t the first time Yelena’s protective streak has clashed with Kate's overenthusiastic approach to... well, everything. Natasha is trying, and failing, to keep a straight face, while Bucky seems to have found sudden interest in the intricate patterns on his boots. 
Your head is throbbing, the remnants of the flu still gnawing at your energy, but you've mustered up just enough strength to make it through tonight's set. Before Yelena or any other band member can comment further, the organizer gestures for your band to take the stage.
You take a deep breath, followed by another swig of water. It's almost showtime, and the excitement is seeping through the nerves, reminding you why you endure the endless rehearsals, sleepless nights, and yes, even the pre-show squabbles.
As you step onto the stage, the applause is deafening. The lights illuminate the sea of faces before you, and you can see the familiar glint of excitement in the eyes of returning fans mixed with the curious expressions of first-timers.
Bucky approaches the mic, flashing his signature charming smile at the crowd. “Good evening, everyone! We’re ecstatic to see so many familiar faces and new ones too! We've got a great set for you tonight, but before we start, let's give a big shoutout to Y/N here, who's powering through the flu to be with us tonight!” The crowd roars in appreciation, and you can't help but wave sheepishly, a tentative smile stretching across your face.
Natasha strums the opening chords of the first song, her fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings. Yelena, momentarily forgetting her earlier spat with Kate, loses herself in the rhythm, the bassline syncing perfectly with your drumbeat. The music flows, each note hitting the right spots, the synergy between band members mesmerizing the audience.
As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy.
And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her.
There's a brunette, her hair cascading down, dancing like she was born for this exact moment. The way she sways and lets loose to the rhythm—it's captivating.
But it's when she turns around that your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. Her eyes meet yours, and the world seems to slow down for a moment. Those intense, deep-set eyes pull you in, making it impossible to look away. They're filled with an emotion that's hard to pinpoint: intrigue, curiosity, maybe even a hint of challenge. The message is clear—she's noticed you, just as much as you've noticed her. 
She doesn't break the gaze, and as her hips move in tune with your beats, there's a silent communication happening. Your hands, despite the rising temperature of the room, feel cold against the drumsticks. It's a battle to maintain your rhythm and not lose yourself under her spell.
Natasha, catching the look on your face, leans in during a brief instrumental break. “You good?”
“Yeah,” you reply, attempting to refocus. Your distraction had almost caused you to miss a beat or two. 
Your eyes are locked onto the brunette once more as she starts grinding against her friend, her movements confident, sultry, and unapologetically magnetic. It's the sort of dancing that would have any person within the perimeter drooling on the spot. Usually, you'd shy away from openly watching someone move so suggestively, but you find yourself completely mesmerized.
As the next song kicks off, you throw in some extra flash on the drums, just to see if she'll play along. And sure enough, with every fancy beat you drop, she dances right to it. It's like you're both in this unspoken challenge, seeing who can outdo the other. Your fingers grip the drumsticks tighter, and you can feel the heat rising on your face.
That's when Natasha glances in the same direction and catches on. “Well, well, looks like someone's got a fan,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice barely audible over the booming speakers.
You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the dryness in your mouth betrays your nonchalance. “Just playing my part,” you quip, though you're keenly aware that your concentration tonight is split between the drums and the mesmerizing dancer.
Yelena, following the exchange between you and Natasha, leans in from the bass guitar, raising an eyebrow. “Who's got you all hot and bothered?”
“Shut up, Yel,” you retort. With cheeks aflame, you try to shove Yelena’s teasing aside, to focus solely on the music coursing through your veins. However, the allure of the brunette is a magnet you can’t seem to resist.
As the beat picks up, so does the pace of your heart, hammering against your chest with every enthralling movement she makes. She is intoxicating, and you’re utterly spellbound.
During the bridge, you hit a sour note—a misstep that rarely happens—and Bucky gives you a dirty look from across the stage. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to the music, and you mouth a silent “sorry” before forcing your eyes away from the captivating sight in the crowd.
But not before catching her reaction.
She's laughing, her eyes alight with impishness, and you'd swear she's looking right at you. There's a knowing smile on her lips that suggests she knows exactly the effect she’s had on you. It’s both mortifying and exhilarating.
You try to keep to the side, hiding behind cymbals and drums, but it's impossible to shake the sensation of being observed. It's like she's got a spotlight aimed right at you, and you're center stage. Every moment you resist looking her way feels like an eternity, but every time you feel the pull to glance in her direction, Yelena’s earlier tease flares in your mind, keeping your eyes stubbornly on Bucky’s flashy shoes.
As the last song fades and the applause rolls in, you set down your drumsticks, nerves and excitement warring within you. You don't hang around for Bucky's wrap-up speech. Instead, you hustle to get backstage.
-
To everyone's shock, you decide to stick around after the gig. You're usually the most introverted one in the group and never do this.
Natasha sidles up to you, a teasing smirk on her lips. “So, about that girl you couldn't take your eyes off of...?”
You attempt to play it cool, but your nervous fidgeting with your drumsticks gives you away. “What girl?” you ask, feigning ignorance.
Bucky snorts in amusement, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “The one you were practically eye-fucking the entire set? Thought you were gonna jump off stage and grab her right there.”
You're now the shade of a ripe tomato, desperately searching for a diversion. “You guys are seeing things,” you mumble, avoiding their amused gazes.
“Honestly, I was half-expecting her to throw a bra onstage or something, the way you were gawking,” Yelena chirps in.
“Enough,” you protest weakly, your voice drowned out by the laughter of your bandmates.
Just as you're about to slip away to the bar for a breather, a waiter approaches you with a drink in hand. “Compliments of the lady over there,” he says, nodding towards a dim corner of the club.
You peer in the direction he's indicating but can't make out who it's from. The drink looks fancy, possibly alcoholic. Glancing at the waiter, you inform him, “I can't drink alcohol right now, but thank you.”
Natasha snatches it from the tray. “Well, if you're not taking it, it's mine.”
Bucky laughs. “Is everyone in this club trying to woo our drummer tonight?”
You roll your eyes at them, trying not to dwell on the mystery woman. However, it's not long before the same waiter returns, this time holding a simple glass of lemonade. “The lady noticed you weren’t drinking the cocktails and thought you might prefer this.”
Your curiosity almost gets the better of you, but the memories of the striking brunette dancing to your beats earlier still linger fresh in your mind. You opt not to scour the club's corners to spot who's sending the drinks. Instead, you lift the lemonade in a thankful gesture, aiming it in the general direction of where the waiter had pointed, and offer a polite, appreciative smile into the dim.
Natasha teases, “Playing hard to get, huh?”
You shrug and take a sip from your drink. “Just soaking in the night and the rewards of our hard work,” you remark, patting the pocket where you tucked away the cash from tonight's gig. “Isn't that what we're here for?”
-
An hour later, the club's neon and strobe lights continue to play tricks on your eyes, turning every brunette head you spot into a potential sighting. Each time, however, it’s not her.
Bucky's animated conversation about a new track he's been working on fades into the background. Natasha keeps throwing you knowing glances, but doesn't press. It's Yelena who finally comments, probably having had enough of your desolate puppy-dog look. She nudges you with her elbow, Kate giggling drunkenly by her side. Yelena's arm is protectively around Kate, but her sharp gaze is all on you.
“You know, you won't find her by just sulking here and gazing at every brunette that walks past. You gotta move,” she challenges, her tone equal parts bored and encouraging.
Kate, in her slightly inebriated state, adds with a giggle, “Yeah, go get her, tiger!”
“It's not that easy, you know,” you sigh, brooding over your drink. “Plus, what if she's not even interested?”
Yelena's smirk is almost predatory. “From what I saw? Trust me, she's interested. Now go.”
With a resigned sigh, you push yourself up from the booth. Steeling yourself, you start weaving your way through the crowd, using your slightly sober advantage to maneuver past intoxicated dancers. You scan every corner and table as you walk past, even though there's a nagging feeling in your gut that she might have already left the club.
It’s after what feels like an eternity that you spot a familiar cascade of brunette locks by the bar. She’s engaged in what appears to be an animated conversation with a tall, equally striking man. However, her posture—shoulders slightly hunched, eyes darting around—suggests that she’s far from comfortable.
The protective instinct kicks in before you can talk yourself out of it. Closing the distance, you position yourself between her and the persistent guy, offering her a way out. “Hey there,” you say, smoothly, your voice loud enough to be heard over the clamor. “I've been looking for you. Sorry I'm late.”
She catches on immediately, her relief evident as she steps closer to you, away from the guy. “There you are! I was starting to worry,” she plays along, giving you a swift kiss on the cheeks that has your eyes widening for a second and breaking character. Thankfully, the guy doesn’t notice your blunder, and sensing he's lost this battle, scowls and retreats into the crowd.
Turning to her, you can't help the grin that finds its way to your face. “Sorry for that, I wanted to help, but I didn’t also want to cause any trouble.”
She smiles back, her eyes gleaming in the club lights. “Thank you for the save. I was about to resort to more drastic measures.”
The banter between you flows naturally, the awkward ice broken by the unusual circumstance of your first interaction. “I'm Y/N,” you offer, extending a hand.
“Wanda,” she says, taking your hand. Her grip is firm and her hand warm against yours. It sends a jolt of electricity up your arm. Only now do you notice her eyes, the shade of green in them, and the way they reveal so much yet nothing at all. Just like that, you fall a little deeper into her trap.
“Wanda,” you repeat, tasting the name on your tongue as if trying it out. Your smile broadens instinctively, and she catches it, her nose scrunching up bashfully.
“What?” she asks.
“Oh, nothing,” you chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just think it's a beautiful name. Fits someone as beautiful as you.”
She blushes, and you can't help but inwardly high five yourself for making her smile like that. She looks away for a moment, trying to hide her smile but fails miserably, and you find it endearing.
“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her eyes meeting yours once more, a shy smile on her lips.
The night unfolds seamlessly from there. You find a quiet corner away from the crowd, where the music is a distant thump, allowing conversation to flow freely.
“So, when did you start drumming?” Wanda asks, leaning in a bit, genuinely seeming interested in your answer. You try your best to stay calm as you feel the heat radiate from her body.
“Believe it or not, I started a bit late, around twelve,” you reply, smiling at the memory of your younger self, awkwardly trying to grasp the drumsticks. “But I played the guitar first, picked it up when I was just five.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wow, so you're a multi-instrumentalist?”
You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, but can't help the proud grin that creeps onto your face. “Something like that. But I mainly stick to drums in the band.”
She tilts her head, her eyes shining with interest. “Why don't you play the guitar for the band then?”
“Natasha's better than me on the guitar. She's got this incredible flair and finesse. I mean, I'm good, but she's... amazing.”
Wanda nods, absorbing the information, “I've heard her play, she really is. But I'm sure you're just as great.”
You laugh, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Then, taking a sip of your drink, you add, “Playing the guitar actually helps a lot when I'm writing our songs.”
“Wait, you write the songs?”
“Most of them,” you confirm, trying to sound as modest as you can be. “It's a collaborative effort, of course. But yeah, having a knowledge of multiple instruments, especially the guitar, helps lay the foundation for many of our tracks.”
Wanda looks at you, clearly impressed. “That's incredible, Y/N. No wonder your music feels so... personal. It's like you're telling a story with every song.”
“You’ve listened to our songs before?” you ask, mildly surprised.
Wanda nods sheepishly, as if caught harboring a guilty secret. “I might have, a few times... I definitely came here tonight to see you guys perform.” 
She then places a hand on your knee, and all at once, your throat feels parched. She scoots closer to you, to speak directly into your ear. “I wish I could see you play the guitar for me.”
You swallow hard. Her suggestion has certainly crossed your mind several times throughout the conversation. “Actually,” you begin, trying to steady your voice, “we keep our instruments in the back of the van. If you're interested, I could... play something for you?”
Wanda pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, looking like she wasn’t expecting you to actually agree to give her a private performance. “Really? Now?”
You nod, then stand and extend your hand to her, grinning. “Ready for a show?”
-
This isn’t exactly the kind of show you had in mind when you led Wanda to the back of the van. But you’re just twenty seconds into the new song you’ve been working on when she grabs your face with both hands and draws you in for a ferocious kiss. It’s a kiss that you haven’t tasted in a while—completely unrestrained.
You're lucky the drum set hasn't been loaded up yet, and with Bucky's keyboard being used by the current band onstage, there's just the right amount of space. Taking advantage, you push Wanda onto her back without breaking away from the kiss.
You pull away just enough to ask, “Are you sure?” while Wanda starts to slide your jacket down your arms.
Wanda nods impatiently, tracing her tongue along the underside of your chin, clearly enjoying the reaction she provokes.
“Was that a yes?” you prod, sitting up. Wanda sighs, albeit a bit irritably, only because you're suddenly out of her reach, before she collects herself enough to answer, “Yes, Y/N, I'm sure.”
“It's just that... I usually don’t do this,” you confess, looking down in embarrassment.
Your heart is pounding so loudly you're sure Wanda can hear it, especially with the way she's studying you intently. You can feel the heat creep up your neck, coloring your cheeks a deep shade of pink. This isn't typically your scene, and you wonder if she's regretting her decision.
But then, with a move that’s smooth and tender, Wanda slides her fingers under your chin, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes aren't filled with judgment or mockery, but with genuine understanding and something else you can't quite place.
“I find it... sexy,” she murmurs. “It’s refreshing, actually. Everything about you feels genuine. It's rare to find someone not playing games.”
Your eyes widen a fraction. That wasn't the reaction you'd been expecting.
She smirks a little at your expression, that hint of mischief returning. “Did you think admitting you're a little inexperienced would scare me off? If anything, it makes this even more exciting.”
“I'm not exactly 'inexperienced',” you argue with a bashful smile.
Her voice drops to a whisper, making your breath catch, and she inches just a bit closer. “I'm sure about this, Y/N. The back of a van might not be a romantic scene from a movie, but…” she breathes, and then she makes sure you feel every word she’s going to say next being spoken in your ear. “But right now? I swear, I might just go crazy if you don't touch me.”
Her statement stokes the fire between your legs and acting on the pull you feel, you lean in, hesitating just for a fraction of a second before capturing her lips with yours. Wanda lets out a soft, sultry moan as you deepen the kiss, your tongue boldly seeking entrance. She grants it, and you're immediately intoxicated, not just by the taste of the vodka she's been sipping on, but by Wanda herself. The way she feels, the way she responds—it's all consuming.
She tilts her head, granting you better access, and you take the opportunity to explore every inch of her mouth. The gentle tang of the alcohol is present but overshadowed by her own unique flavor, which is even more intoxicating. You can feel her hands resting on your shoulders, fingers gripping you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
Wanda's breath hitches sharply as you confidently take charge. You yank her shirt off in one quick move, and she's laid bare under the soft street lights. Outside, some party is still in full swing, but in here, it's all about the uninhibited hunger between the two of you.
You slip your fingers to the back of her bra, fumbling just a moment before unhooking it, revealing her. Not wasting any time, you dive in, taking her nipple in your mouth, savoring it. The sensation drives her wild, and she arches her back, pushing herself deeper against you with a throaty moan.
Her fingers grip your hair, guiding and sometimes just pulling when she needs more. Every sound she makes, every pull of her fingers, gets you more revved up. It's intense, it's messy, but it's all too real.
As your hands venture lower, you notice her pupils dilate and her breathing grow uneven.
“You still sure?” you whisper, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. She responds with a desperate whine, pressing her hips closer to yours.
“Use your words, baby girl,” you murmur, nipping at her pulse point.
“Yes, yes, yes…” she answers breathlessly. “Please, Y/N.”
Your fingers playfully glide over her entrance, teasing her, “So wet for me,” you marvel, pressing a firm kiss to her neck. Your fingers dip inside her just slightly, pulling back out to further tease her.
“It's too bad I don't have my strap with me,” you groan, grinding against her thigh, letting her feel how turned on you are. “You'd look so pretty, taking it all.”
Her breathing hitches, “God, I wish you had it too.”
Wanda’s whines intensify, a sweet sound of pure desperation, as you suddenly remove your fingers from her. “Why did you—” she starts to complain, but you silence her with a searing kiss.
“I want to see all of you,” you murmur against her lips. Her skirt is the next target, and you fumble with the zipper, eager to remove the barrier between your hands and her skin. However, as you're about to pull down her underwear, a thought strikes you. Looking around the back of the van, you remember how it's been used for hauling equipment, and the floor isn't exactly pristine.
Thinking quickly, you grab your jacket and lay it out beneath her, ensuring she's on a cleaner surface. “Always got to take care of my girl,” you wink at her, trying to lighten the moment.
“Your girl?” Wanda echoes, her eyes half-lidded, a playful smile curling on her lips.
You realize your slip-up a beat too late, but then, her underwear and skirt are swiftly discarded, and she lies there, beautifully exposed to your hungry gaze.
“You're breathtaking,” you whisper in awe.
She flushes under your gaze. “I could say the same for you,” she murmurs, pulling you closer.
Your eyes roam her body, the soft curves and inviting skin, particularly where she's most sensitive. But you've always been one for asking. 
“Can I taste you?” The question leaves your lips, whispered against the skin of her inner thigh, making her shiver.
She responds with a needy, “Yes, please,” and bites her bottom lip, arching her hips slightly, as if laying herself bare for your indulgence.
You don't waste any more time. Shuffling down, you position yourself between her legs, the aromatic scent of her arousal filling your senses. Carefully, you part her folds with your fingers, your tongue darting out to collect the first taste. The first touch of your tongue against her wetness draws a sharp inhale from her, followed by a moan that has your ears burning from how shameless it sounds.
Your tongue swirls around her swollen nub, establishing a pattern that has her thighs clenching around your head. “Fucky, right there,” she groans, her hips thrusting up, eager to meet each glide and flick of your tongue. The wet sounds of your mouth paired with her whimpers urge you to sneak a hand beneath your jeans, seeking relief for your own building tension.
Her hands tighten in your hair, pulling you closer, almost as if she's trying to mold you to her. “More, right there... Oh, god!” she cries out, providing the exact guidance you need.
Amused by her reactions, you intentionally draw out a slurping sound as your tongue dives deeper, making Wanda retreat, but you abandon your own need for release to grab her ass and pull her back to your mouth. 
“Y/N, please, please, I’m—”
“You like that, don't you?” you tease, voice husky with lust. “You sound so pretty when you beg.”
She keens, a desperate sound, her fingers tightening their grip on your hair. You're relentless, enjoying every second of her unraveling, and she's close—so close.
“Are you going to come for me, Wanda?” you growl, lost in the intoxicating taste of her, pressing your tongue deeper, seeking out every intimate spot that makes her body jolt and writhe above you. Her voice breaks into a high-pitched cry, “Y/N! I'm—I'm—” and you feel her climax, her entire body shaking with the force of it, her wetness dripping from your chin down to your throat, drenching you in the process. 
Wanda's gasps fill the space as she shudders, the aftershocks of her orgasm leaving her body trembling. A wicked grin spreads across your face as you take in the sight of her, completely spent and vulnerable. She squirms beneath your mouth, trying to escape the onslaught of sensations. “Too much,” she pants, her voice hoarse.
Ignoring her plea, you continue your ministrations, lips and tongue working in tandem, driving her to the brink once more. As you feel her tensing up, preparing to escape your relentless assault, you slip two fingers inside her, feeling the tight clench of her around you. The unexpected intrusion steals her breath and the fight from her limbs, her resistance melting under your touch.
“You want more, don't you?” you murmur before your lips find her clit again. 
The van is starting to smell like sex. You know you'll have to do something about this later, but for now, you can't bring yourself to care as you take in every detail of the naked girl before you. The pleasure is almost overwhelming for Wanda, teetering on the edge of pain, but she feels another climax building deep inside her.
“Y/N!” she cries, her grip on your hair tightening, her back arching. “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!”
You don't stop, doubling your efforts, fingers and tongue working in sync, driving her up and beyond any point she's ever known. Suddenly, there's a gush, wetter and warmer than before, surprising you both. You pull back slightly, and she looks down, mortified. Her face turns a deep shade of red, and she tries to squirm out from beneath you.
“I'm so sorry... I—” Wanda stammers, scrambling to hide her face in her hands.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a smirk forming on your lips. “Wanda, that was... incredibly hot.”
She looks away, still trying to process what just happened. “I didn’t... I've never...”
Sitting up, you gently cup her face, making her look at you. “Hey, it’s alright,” you say softly, trying to reassure her. “Don't be embarrassed. I'm honored that you felt comfortable enough with me to let go completely.”
She gives a shaky laugh, her fingers lightly tracing circles on your chest. “I can't believe you made me do that on the first try.”
“And I’m extremely lucky to be able to,” you say with a chuckle, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.
She blushes for a moment, then says, “I noticed you didn’t... you know. Do you want me to...?”
“Next time,” you promise, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Right now, I need to make sure this van doesn’t end up as evidence of our... activities.” You wink, earning a soft giggle from her.
“Besides, I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed watching you fall apart because of me,” you add, mischievously wetting your lips.
She blushes, playfully swatting at your arm. “You're impossible.”
-
You were the first to step out of the van, offering Wanda a moment of privacy to get dressed. When she finally emerges, she leans on you for support. “I can't feel my legs,” she jokes, struggling a bit. She hands you your jacket which you'd forgotten, helping you slip it on. Immediately, the scent of her hits you, reminding you that she had climaxed twice on that very fabric.
Before you can dwell on the thought, a man approaches Wanda. It’s the same guy from earlier, the one she was arguing with at the bar. You instinctively square your shoulders, ready to step in between them, protectively, but Wanda halts you with a hand on your chest.
“Pietro!” Wanda exclaims, letting out an exasperated sigh as she utters her brother's name. You halt, puzzled.
She knows this guy?
Pietro looks at Wanda, then at you, his eyes narrowing for a moment. “You ready to go, Wanda?” he asks, clearly impatient.
She turns to you, giving you a soft, apologetic smile. “Y/N, this is my brother, Pietro.”
You swallow dryly, offering a somewhat clammy hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Pietro just eyes your hand, perhaps connecting the dots from earlier. Feeling like an idiot, you quickly pull your hand back, subtly rubbing it against your pants. He departs without another word, muttering to Wanda, “I'll be in the car. Don't keep me waiting too long.”
Wanda watches Pietro go, her smile fading a bit. Turning back to you, she takes a deep breath. “Okay, so, about earlier,” she starts, biting her lower lip nervously. “I might have, um... staged that whole fight thing to get your attention. He wasn’t too thrilled about the idea, but he played along.” Her eyes dart to the ground, avoiding your gaze.
You blink, processing her confession. Before you can come up with any coherent response, she giggles at the dumbfounded expression on your face. “I really have to go,” she says.
And then, before you can react, she plants a featherlight kiss on your cheek. The warmth of it lingers on your skin as she steps back, her eyes holding yours for a long, sweet moment.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes glistening under the soft moonlight. “Tonight was... unexpected, but amazing.”
And with that, she turns and hurries off to where Pietro is waiting for her by a parked car. You stand there, feeling the spot on your cheek where her lips touched, watching her until she hops into the car and drives off into the night. It’s only after the car disappears around the bend that you mentally kick yourself for forgetting to ask for her number. With a sigh, you turn back to your van, resigned to cleaning up.
The chill of the night settles in, and when you slip your hands into your jacket pockets, your fingers catch a scrap of paper. It feels out of place, foreign to the usual belongings you stash in there. You pull it out, and to your surprise, it's a receipt. The drinks listed there jog a memory: an alcoholic cocktail offered to you earlier in the night which you politely declined, and the tangy lemonade that followed right after.
Realization dawns on you. Wanda had been orchestrating things all night. You flip the receipt over and your heart skips a beat. Scrawled at the back in a neat, cursive handwriting is her number, accompanied by a simple message: “Call me soon.”
Grinning like a fool, you grab a cloth and some disinfectant from the compartment. Cleaning the back of a van has never felt this satisfying.
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